Subject Seven Read Online Free PDF

from the noise just in time to avoid getting creamed by the milk truck rumbling down the street. The air was hotter than he expected, and his skin was stippled with a thin sheen of sweat.
    Not two feet away from him, the road was baking in the bright sunlight and a bum was sprawled on the ground, either sleeping off a bender or knocked unconscious.
    The bum turned over and groaned. Hunter looked toward the man and took in the bruises and bloodied nose, the busted lips and the eyes swollen almost completely shut. His clothes were clean but wrinkled. Not a bum after all. Somebody’d just beat the crap out of him.
    Hunter turned to get a closer look, but then—
    It was dark and he was lying in a new bed.
    He heard a noise and looked to his left. The shape next to him muttered and snored lightly. There was a girl in his bed with long red hair and a tattoo of a unicorn across her shoulder. She looked a few years older and she had one arm stretched toward him. Neither of them was wearing clothes. Hunter sat up in the bed and looked around, his heart hammering hard.
    There was a girl in his bed. A naked girl. What the hell had he been—
    Daylight again and a different hotel.
    For a moment he tried to suppress the panic blooming in his chest and then he changed his mind. He shoved the fear aside and went straight for the anger that made his body twitch.
    â€œEnough!” He came out of bed furious, hating this. “What the hell is this?” He couldn’t get a decent breath no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t know if hours had passed or days or even months, and the confusion hit him like a hurricane. His chest felt like someone was crushing him in arms as thick as a gorilla’s.
    None of it made sense! He swung at the air, just in case there might be someone behind him, but struck nothing.
    â€œWhat’s happening to me?” His voice cracked and his eyes stung with the need to cry.
    And then he noticed the note on the window, taped in place. It said: PLAY ME, and an arrow was drawn pointing toward the pressboard desk below the sign.
    Below the sign was a cheap tape recorder.
    His head ached and his eyes burned a bit, but he nodded and took a deep breath. If there was a song on the thing, he’d throw it out the window. If it was someone talking, maybe he’d finally learn something.
    Hunter pulled out the desk chair and sat down. A moment after that he hit the play button.
    The voice that came out was tinny and distorted, and not one he recognized.
    â€œBet you want answers, don’t you? Bet you’re tired of blacking out again and again, aren’t you?” The voice sounded almost amused, but there was an undercurrent of anger, of hatred, that he couldn’t ignore.
    â€œTough. Your life is officially shit. I own you. Get used to it.”
    â€œWhat?” The voice was recorded, but if he could have, he’d have strangled it into silence.
    â€œYou’re having troubles, loser. You’re in deeper than you know and the only way you’re going to get any answers is to listen to me. The only reason you’re alive is because I need you. If I didn’t, you’d be dead and buried where no one would ever find you.”
    There were a few seconds of silence and then the voice started again. “You don’t know where your family is. You don’t know where you are. You might not even remember anything about yourself, and that’s okay. It’s all stuff we can fix if you work with me. But if you piss me off, if you cross me, I can ruin you.”
    Hunter reached for the recorder, ready to shut it off.
    â€œThis is a first-time run. You want to answer me, you turn the tape over and you go ahead and say what’s on your mind. We’ll have a nice little talk. In the meantime, don’t get too stupid.”
    That was all the tape said. He listened for several minutes to the static and silence of the blank tape before he turned it