Bright Days

“You ever notice how the brightest places hide the darkest shit?” Becket said as he walked alongside a man wearing a lab coat.

The two walked briskly down a whitewashed hallway that screamed clinical. Bright lights above shone down, giving shadows no chance to live. Every so often they would pass a closed, unmarked door. No one else was in the area.

“You would know. You spent the last, what, three years underground,” the lab coat guy said as he adjusted his glasses.

“I wasn’t underground entirely. I had a life, you know.”

“If that’s what you called a life, I worry about you, Bishop.”

“I told you, I go by the name Denny Becket. Stop referring to my old name.”

“I don’t get it. That assignment is over, no?”

“Yeah, it is, but the name grew on me… I’m actually thinking of keeping it.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“I shit you not.”

“I never would have imagined in a million years…”

“Why? What’s wrong with Denny Becket?”

“Nothing, but you’re not really a deputy.”

“I don’t need to be Deputy Becket. Just Becket is good enough. And to be honest, Bishop is an alias from another assignment, so really, I’m just a freaking chameleon.”

“Really? I had no idea…”

Becket stopped and turned to the lab coat guy. “Go on, spit it out. Your face has this look of disgust on it.”

“I’m not disgusted. It’s just, compared to Bishop, Becket seems so Midwestern. Too goody-two-shoes for someone like yourself.”

Becket shrugged and continued walking. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“Yeah right, and maybe hell is freezing over.”

They made a turn down another hallway, where they faced more white walls and more tiled floors and more unmarked doors.

“Surely you didn’t bring me all the way over here to discuss the merits of my name.”

“I did not. We have good news. Everything looks great. Vitals are strong, given the situation. Recovery is still day to day, but we’re bullish,” the lab coat guy said.

“Are you absolutely sure? Last time you were bullish, things turned into a clusterfuck.”

“Oh please, you’re not still bringing that up, are you? That was years ago. Technology has advanced. We’re light-years ahead of that.”

“I just don’t want to be disappointed. I’ve got bosses and decisions that need to be made. We have big plans upon us.”

“Oh, do we? Care to share?”

“I can’t, but I can tell you it involves expansion. But we need him—I need him. He’ll just make it easier. And I’m all about easy after what happened back in Hillside Estates.”

“Yeah, that was a major screw-up, right? The entire place imploding, losing everyone.”

“Tell me about it. But we always knew there was a chance it could collapse.” Becket looked over at the lab coat guy. “So, I hope for your sake you’re right.”

“I am, and that’s why I’m making you come with me. It’s important you see this with your own eyes. I don’t want anything lost in interpretation—if you catch my drift.”

They rounded another corner, and the lab coat guy stopped at a door. He pulled it open but paused before stepping through.

“One question, if I might. Not that I think you’re wrong, but what makes you think you can control things from this point on?”

Becket gave the question some thought before shrugging. “I don’t, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Becket stepped into the viewing room. It was much darker than the sterile hallway they came from. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing the space, as a soft, steady beep rose above it.

He moved toward a viewing window. The sound of a compressor’s drawn-out hiss, followed by a mechanical push could be heard.

Becket peered through the glass. There, lying on a hospital bed, was a man—unconscious but breathing. A number of tubes fed into him and sensors clung to his chest.

A smile spread across the lab coat guy’s face as he urged Becket to take a closer look. 

He leaned in, close enough that a patch of fog bloomed on the glass. Becket’s hand drifted to the glass, fingertips stopping just shy of it.

“Unbelievable,” he murmured. “You weren’t kidding. How soon before he’s fully functional?”

“Could be a couple of months. Could be a couple of weeks. But I promise you, with the improvements we made, he’ll be more than capable, maybe even uncontrollable.”

The ventilator forced another breath into the man’s chest—the rise and fall steady and chilling. Becket didn’t move.

The lab coat guy stepped up beside Becket. “For your sake, I hope you two parted as friends… because Ronan Dark lives.”