MLT Works

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Hive Mind (from The Green Vial)

The story continues. If you missed any of it, start here.


“What is going on?” I demand as we speed through the streets.

“Not right now,” the woman tells me as she jerks the steering wheel to the left. Her dark eyes are focused on the road. We take a sharp left and race through the city.

My stomach grumbles loud enough that I see those dark eyes cut over to me.

“You hungry?”

“Starving,” I say. “I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat in a couple of days.”

Her eyes shift to the rear view mirror momentarily, and she slows down and pulls over to a diner.

“Name’s Di,” she says as we exit the car.

“I know,” I say automatically.

I pause.

What? What am I saying? How would I know this woman’s name? I stop, holding my head in my hands. I glance at her and see a hint of a smile crack on her face.

“Come on,” she says, motioning to the front door. “Let’s be quick.”

We sit in a booth across from each other. After placing an order, we sit in silence for several uncomfortable moments. She’s staring at me, her eyes not missing a single detail. There’s a hint of a twinkle in her eye, like a parent who’s amused by a young child. Like she’s waiting for something.

“Well,” she says. “Go on. Ask.”

“What is going on here?”

The words rush out of my mouth before I can think. It’s almost as if she’s put them there.

“Why are there people trying to kill me?” I continue. “Why can’t I remember two days of my life? Why am I getting all these headaches and hearing things? Am I going crazy?”

The waitress sets a plate down in front of each of us. I dive into the cheesesteak sandwich the moment the plate hits the table. The salty, greasy sandwich hits the spot. Di takes the opportunity to fill my silence.

“It’s the hive mind,” Di says.

“What’s a hive mind?” I ask through a mouthful of fries.

“Hive mind,” she says. “Multiple minds connected together to one master mind that controls them.”

I know the look on my face must look completely lost because she explains further.

“It’s like a hive of bees,” she says. “The drones are all control by the queen. None of them really acts independently. They all do what the queen wants. It’s the same way that your body responds to the impulses of your brain.”

“So how is all of this happening to me?”

Di stares at the rivulets of water running down the outside of the smudged. Rain is beating on the windows competing with the clattering of dishes in the kitchen.

“Do y’all need anything?” the waitress asks on her way by.

I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

“His name is John Malcolm. He’s the COO of MacIntosh Pharmaceuticals. Years ago, the company was contracted by the government to research mental manipulation warfare.”

I nearly choke on my water. It takes a few hard coughs to clear my lungs.

“Are you talking about mind control?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she says. She’s wringing her hands together. “It’s more like impulse control. A way of linking minds to other minds to inhibit their decisions. The original idea was to prevent people from committing violent acts and other crimes whenever the impulse hit. The FDA decided that the drug was a major rights violation, and rightly so.

They shut the project down, but John wasn’t satisfied. He was determined to see things through. He thought that it could be a way to unite humanity. To create peace finally. It became an obsession that took hold of him. He thought he was the only one capable of handling the responsibility.”

I see a flash of anger (or is it pain?) in her eyes. She stays silent for long moments before continuing on.

My phone chirps. It’s Ruby asking where I am and if I’m okay. I ignore the message for a moment, absorbed in Di’s story.

“Anyway, he continued working on the project in secret until he perfected the formula and began running tests on subjects. It worked on most, but some resisted. The serum proved ineffective against some, and even heightened their mental capabilities.”

“You mean like being able to read others thoughts?” I say.

She nods.

“So then it’s not just me hearing things. It’s all real?”

“All of it,” she says flatly. There’s a blank look in her eyes as if she’s reliving some distant memory.

“Those who resisted the serum he sees as a threat to his role of mastermind. He hunted them all down and killed them. All except two who still remain.”

The realization strikes me like a lightning bolt directly into my brain. My body shudders when I realize that I know because Di sent the thought directly to me.

“You and me?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Another nod.

Something isn’t right about all of this. Something feels off.

“How do you know all of this?”

Di looks at me, and the pain in her eyes is clear now.

“He’s my husband. Was my husband. I couldn’t bear to watch what was happening to him, what he was becoming.”

The waitress drops the check off at the table. I can only stare at the numbers on the paper. I have no words to say. The food in my stomach has suddenly turned sour, and my stomach twists in knots.

“And you want me to help you stop him?” I ask, the taste of bile rising in my throat.

“I do.”

I reach into my pocket, pull out some cash, and toss it on the table. My hands are trembling. I know what she’s asking, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. What am I even supposed to do?

I find my self shaking my head. I can’t do this.

“Please, Ben,” Di says. “I need your help.”

“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head more furiously.

Suddenly, I’m running to the front door and out into the rain. I don’t care that I’m getting soaked. I deserve it for being the coward that I am. 


Continue the story here.