looks out over an electrified fence to the jungle and Thailand in the east—its border barely a kilometer away, so tantalizingly close.
There are, of course, guards all over the grounds, and although they grip their weapons tighter when they see Colton, they know that he is not to be touched. Not until he’s touched by the doctor’s scalpel.
Kunal makes the mistake of bringing Colton near the north wing. And the sounds make Colton stop in his tracks. They are different from the sounds in the front sections of the manor. Those are merely sounds of the aftermath. Ruined beings scrabbling and babbling, trying to comprehend their fun-house existence. But in the north wing—these are the sounds of souls in transition. The hollow howls of purgatory.
In spite of Kunal’s attempts to direct Colton away from the north wing, the boy moves toward a heavily bolted double door, beyond which they can hear muffled moans and weakened wails. Rodín’s own Gates of Hell.
“Recovery room,” Kunal reluctantly tells Colton. “Some live; some die. Some worse than die. You no want here. You be here soon enough.”
Kunal grabs his arm to pull him away, but Colton shakes him off.
“Shhh.”
Kunal looks around to make sure there are no guards observing them, for the doctor does not like Kunal to linger by the north wing. Then they hear within the chorus of groans a single voice begging for help. English. Australian accent.
“Your friend,” Kunal says. “He survive. So far.”
“What did Rodín do to him?”
“Don’t know yet. Will know when he gets out.”
It’s as they’re walking away from the recovery room that Kunal catches something in Colton’s eye. Something more than an acquiescence to Rodín’s experimental plans. Something rebellious. Perhaps, Kunal thinks, there is more to this American boy after all.
5 • Colton
All of Colton’s hope now lies in a tunnel that may not exist. The tree in the center of the grand courtyard remains the center of Colton’s attention. He circles around it again and again, trying not to look suspicious. The roots are as heavy and as gnarled as the limbs. If there was ever a well here, it has been destroyed by the tree’s relentless growth.
“You want climb?” Kunal asks him. “Better to climb now. Won’t be able to later. Either you dead, or you a horse. Climb now. I show you.”
One thing about Kunal, he doesn’t mince what few English words he knows. Colton looks up at the tree and shakes his head. “Rodín won’t be too happy with you if I break my neck.”
“I help,” Kunal says. “Come.”
It seems Kunal’s only joy is his newfound ability to climb this tree, and Colton thinks how amazing it is that humans can adapt to whatever is thrown at them. If Colton survived, will he be able to adapt? He’s not ready to imagine what life for him might be like if his unthinkable operation is successful.
As they approach the tree, Colton sees a small hole between two large roots, no larger than a fist. Colton kneels down to inspect it.
“Bad there,” Kunal says. “Pythons.”
“I thought Burmese pythons live in trees, not under them.”
Kunal shrugs. “Rats, then. Big. Many big things in Burma.”
Still, Colton kicks at the hole, and some dirt falls in, making the hole a little bit bigger. He smiles and looks up at Kunal, who has already begun to climb, and joins him in the lowest branches of the tree. Immediately a guard comes over to shout him down, because while Kunal is allowed to climb, Colton is not—but that’s all right. Colton climbs down, salutes the guard, and heads back to his room, knowing all he needs to know.
• • •
Colton realizes that if he’s going to escape he needs someone with access. An inside accomplice. So that night when Kunal brings dinner, Colton risks it all.
“Kunal, what if I told you that there’s a way you can escape from this place?”
Kunal only laughs. “I say you crazy.”
“That hole beneath the tree is more than a rat hole. It’s a tunnel. I’m pretty sure it leads out into the jungle—maybe even over the border into Thailand.”
That gives Kunal pause for thought.
“Do you want to leave here, Kunal? Think about it!”
Kunal’s eyes begin to moisten. “What for me out there?”
“Whatever it is, it’s better than what you have here. You don’t have to be the doctor’s trained monkey.”
Kunal backs away angrily, and Colton knows that was the wrong thing to say.
“I bring you breakfast at seven. You no talk to me; I