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We are not professing to tell you
the complete story of these activities.
We are professing to tell you the complete story that we know.
But these records that we've uncovered don't tell the story.
They tell pieces of it.
They were looking for fundamental information
on compounds that were...
would be capable of causing...
changes in behavior,
changes in mental attitude.
Did you ever consider
what would have happened if any of these substances
were given to, say, unwitting people?
Testing it out on an American citizen?
I...
I guess I must seem very, very cold-blooded about this,
but I don't recall ever having been
very much preoccupied
with that, uh-- with that issue.
Thousands of government-sponsored experiments
did take place at hospitals, universities,
and military bases around our nation.
Some were unethical, not only by today's standards,
but by the standards of the time
in which they were conducted.
Between the injection and the effects,
the patient was transported to whatever
or wherever it is that DMT leads people.
When the Freedom of Information Act released a bunch of documents,
you found out that all these different subjects
that had taken this chemical
all experienced the same phenomena under the drug.
They experienced something out there
that came to them, that met them halfway.
But what you can't lose sight of
is what all of this would mean
in terms of individual human beings.
There would be deaths,
there would be long-lasting and harmful effects.
Everyone who took this chemical saw
and witnessed the same thing,
and they all named it the same thing,
even though they were separate subjects.
What'd they, uh... What'd they name it?
Well, that's actually the name of the chapter.
These entities were kind of malignant and threatening.
And, actually, a handful of the volunteers
had traumatic and terrible encounters with these entities.
Nobody should have to go through this.
The United States of America offers a sincere apology
to those of our citizens
who were subjected to these experiments,
to their families, and to their communities.
It's something that I think the general public
has no idea that our government was doing
and could really open up some--some eyes.
And would you ever, uh...
Would you ever try the chemical?
Uh, that's a big question, isn't it?
That's the million dollar question.
James Hirsch was a close friend of mine.
We graduated together from Atticus University.
We both took writing courses together,
and we'd often work on stories late into the night.
We wasted countless hours at the bar
arguing about political philosophy and movies.
But four years later, my friend James went missing.
All right, it's on.
Now what do you want me to do with it?
Just, um...
I don't trust myself to take accurate notes while I'm on the chemical,
so I'm gonna ingest it, and you're going to record.
Okay.
Hello. My name is James,
and this little guy is 150 milligrams
of specially enhanced Dimethyltryptamine, DMT 19.
It's supposedly impossible to find, but here I have it.
Well, where'd you get it? Some friends in Colorado.
Oh, uh, FYI, Renny,
if this little chemistry experiment goes sideways,
I want you to finish my book and dedicate it to me.
Okay. Be a terrible book.
Might be a terrible book anyway.
We're not actually doing anything illegal here.
Whoa, you look so weird, dude. Shut up.
No, just kidding. You look the same.
Do you feel anything? No?
No, I don't feel anything yet.
Hey, I don't want to see myself
doing some weird drug on YouTube.
Well, if you do anything remotely funny,
I might actually save it.
Don't fuck with me, Renny.
So if nothing happens,
are you gonna just make something up for your book?
Wait. Do you--
What is that?
Do you hear that?
That radio?
Where's it coming from?
It's like interference.
What is that?
Wait.
What if it's coming from something in the house?
Do you think someone's here?
I don't like this. We should call someone.
I ingested the chemical, remember?
I took that. We don't...
Oh, fuck, Renny.
What?
It's coming towards the house.
What is? I don't know.
What is this?!
What do you want me to do?
This...
Help!
Look, you think maybe he was having some kind of spasm,
some kind of reaction to the drug he took?
Look, no. It wasn't...
Can you recall making any movements
to strike or push him when he was convulsing?
Is that how it happened?
No, I-- No. I just ran.
I don't know what happened... And you didn't take the drug?
No, I didn't. Are you sure?
I didn't take the chemical!
James and I didn't see each other much after college.
True to both our words,
he struggled as a young, but talented novelist.
I got into journalism at an online news site.
Occasionally, we'd drop each other an email
just to check in.
No one could tell me exactly what had happened to James
because no one knew.
Nevada law enforcement officials suspected
he'd been murdered by his friend, Renny Seegan,
after James ingested an enhanced form
of a rare contraband chemical known as Dimethyltryptamine.
I been real nice up to now,
but I'm gonna-- I'm gonna fuck your world, kid.
Have you seen the kind of boys
we got down there in the county lockup?
I'm gonna put you in there with those son of a bitches.
I didn't do-- I didn't do anything.
Fresh piece of fucking chicken!
All I know is he said it was
from some friends in Colorado.
God.
Oh, yeah.
I hear that every time...friends.
What kind of friend gives you poison?
Without a body, police weren't ready
to charge Renny Seegan with any crime.
They would never get the chance.
Renny vanished almost 72 hours later.
He was never seen again.
I decided that James and I would work
on one last project together.
We would find out the truth about what happened to him.
It would be our final collaboration.
"James, I expect you'll find this batch "will help immensely with your research.
"It wasn't easy to come by, "but then again, nothing worth doing is,
"so I expect a full report "when you come out on the other side.
Sincerely, your friends in Colorado."
James, what happened to you?
Hello?
Henry Cale? Yes.
We spoke on the phone. Hi. I'm Anne Roland.
So tell me everything you know about shortwave radio broadcasts.
Yeah. Well, I'm an operator and enthusiast,
and I've been working with it all my life. Come here.
I don't like this.
We should call someone.
I ingested the chemical, remember?
I took that. We don't...
- Oh, fuck, Renny. - What?
It's coming towards the house.
Yeah, that sound on the radio
sounds exactly like one of the known numbers stations.
Numbers stations?
Numbers stations are shortwave radio stations of unidentified origin.
They generally broadcast artificially generated voices
reading streams of numbers, words, letters,
backwards music, or cryptic electronic code.
They're in a wide variety of languages,
and the voices are usually female for some reason.
Sometimes it sounds like a child.
And how long have you been hearing them for?
Well, the shortwave community's
been finding them for decades now.
Listen.
7, 5, 4, 6, 8.
8, 7, 7, 6, 5.
Who would broadcast that?
Lot of theories-- secret government agencies,
terrorists, drug runners.
But it's never been shown for sure
who or what is broadcasting them.
So you've been keeping track of these numbers stations
and documenting them for years?
That's right.
And you've heard that particular broadcast before?
Yes, I have.
The signal sounded like a broadcast from this small area
we call the Lonely Traveler Station.
The Lonely Traveler?
Yeah. Shortwave radio guys named it that.
I've heard recordings,
but I've never gone out there to listen to it myself.
Well, James's cabin is right about here,
same area upstate.
So what do I need to do if I wanted to record this broadcast?
Well, it's not easy.
You'd need to be out on the far edge of the Black Rock Desert
between 3:00 to 5:00 in the morning,
and maybe cross your fingers.
That's it?
Doesn't sound so bad.
Yeah, that's it.
I can give you one of our receivers.
One more question.
Did you--Did you used to work for the NSA?
Excuse me? You know, the NSA.
You worked for them as a code breaker.
Why do you say that?
Well, according to the NSA employment verification contact,
Henry Cale worked there from 1963 to 1979.
I wouldn't care to discuss that.
So, out here in the middle of nowhere,
75 miles from the nearest town,
on the outskirts of the Black Rock Desert...
Listening, watching for the Lonely Traveler.
Happy times.
James was more than a friend.
Sometimes I find myself asking, were you in love with him?
I guess I never really thought of it until he was gone.
The signal is getting stronger.
That's weird.
Is anyone out here?
Fuck, they're watching.
You need to be more careful, Anne.
You don't know who's out there.
With that substance, do you know who or what
James might have been involved with?
Well, there was this strange message sent from someone,
I think sent from his supplier.
They didn't sign it with a name,
but they signed it "your friends in Colorado,"
which is exactly the same thing
that Renny Seegan said on the police tape.
Oh, "friends in Colorado."
Yeah, "friends in Colorado."
Like the novel. You know it?
Should I?
Mm-hmm.
Before your time, but it was a very popular book in the late '70s.
Wait. This is a Thomas Blackburn novel.
Yes. That's the way he used to sign his letters,
the title of his novel, Friends in Colorado.
Thomas Blackburn. I--I know his work.
Thomas Blackburn...
an infamous, crazed novelist
risen from homeless, bipolar,
counter-culture activist to literary icon.
His books were written in a haze of pills, booze,
and, to some, schizophrenic genius.
He was a beast from a less civilized era.
Thomas!
Hey, Thomas!
You're ruining my concentration!
He'd been arrested many times.
During an interview in 1974,
he tied the reporter to a chair and threw him into the pool.
He isn't coming up!
He'd been arrested again
at the late Senator Raider's reelection party in 1996.
Hey, hey, hey! I'm press.
Press right here.
Hey, listen, ladies and gentlemen?
Uh, you're campaign contributors.
I just want you to know that the acid in your drink
is gonna kick in in about 18 minutes.
Thomas Blackburn?
Who's asking?
Hi. I'm a journalist from risingjournal.com.
I just wanted to know if I could ask you
a few questions about James Hirsch.
Have you read my latest book?
Which one?
The one called "Go Fuck Yourself"?
So Blackburn isn't talking to journalists anymore.
That's fantastic.
So let's see what this little guy has to offer.
Patient 11?
Time is 5:13 P.M.,
administering 200 milligrams of pure Dimethyltryptamine extracted from...
Nobody said anything about restraints.
What is this?
Hello, Dr. Kessel?
Just relax, please.
Everything will be fine.
Whose voice is that?
They can see me.
They--They can see me.
In the room now.
I can hear them.
It's all gone away.
You hear them?
It's all gone away.
N1.
N2.
H2.
O7.
C11.
They're here.
Aah!
Patient 11, can you hear me?
Patient 11, I need you to respond to me!
Extracting 325 milligrams of Dimethyltryptamine from a primary source.
Do you know what's on that tape?
That's not regular Dimethyltryptamine that the CIA injected people with.
Then what was it?
They were extracting a chemical from a special source, the human brain.
Medical corpses, the pineal gland.
Come on.
The chemicals foundnaturally in the brain?
Yes. They're extracting it from dead bodies, injecting it into live ones.
Lovely.
Anything else good on that tape?
I don't know.
The last 35 minutes have been erased.
I sent it over to the guys at video forensics
to see if they can pull anything out of it.
We get it back next week.
Oh.
In the meantime,
I still got to find a way to get to Blackburn.
You just know he's connected to it.
He's a writer.
He doesn't have the skills to synthesize something like that.
It's a CIA chemical, I know,
but maybe Blackburn got his hands on it somehow.
I mean, think about it.
Both men in western Nevada, the letter signature.
Blackburn found the chemical
and gave it to James for his research.
It's possible.
It's probable,
and I know what to do to get to Blackburn.
Great. What are you gonna do?
Honey, I'm home.
How.
One bourbon, please.
Hey, Thomas. What's up?
I got arrested this morning.
Same as yesterday, huh?
Yeah, same as yesterday.
I was peeing in my own front yard
in the same spot I been peeing in
for the past 15 years,
and there just happened to be
a sheriff's deputy's car parked there.
Fuckin' Nazi cop.
Don't you think it's a man's right
to pee in the fucking desert?
Thomas? Thomas Blackburn?
Yes?
I'm the writer who emailed you.
Sarah? Sarah Weiss?
Right! Right?
Right, yes.
The "print is dead, down on her luck" story.
Wow.
It's nice to finally put a face to the name.
Well, it's nice to finally-- Sarah.
Oh, no thanks. I've got a drink.
That's not for you.
I feel sorry for you kids, you know that?
With your fucking computers and shit.
You know what? You can tell a writer
who actually puts a pen to paper,
who actually scribbles on a fucking napkin.
You haven't written a new novel in, like, eight years.
I'm an old fucking man.
I would love to read something you've written.
No, you wouldn't. No, you wouldn't.
You know what I like to write?
Pornography. Oh, is that right?
I'm quite good at it, yes.
"50 Shades of Shit."
Your fans worship you.
They don't worship me.
They worship an image of myself,
an image I've created, carefully constructed.
I'm a myth.
Come on, being loved by so many adoring fans
isn't a good enough motivation for you?
Let me tell you something
one of my ex-wives once told me.
She said, "Everyone will love you, Thomas,
except those of us who know you best."
But tell me, young writer,
what is it you are writing about?
Um, actually, you'd probably love it.
It's a novel about the narco war in Mexico
and two young lovers who experiment with different chemicals and...
It sounds fuckin' trite.
Well, it's a work in progress.
Yeah, make 'em-- make 'em lesbians.
Really? Burmese throat-singing lesbians.
I don't know much about that subject.
Maybe you could help me.
Well, speaking of ingesting experimental chemicals,
what are you doing this weekend?
Um, I didn't plan that far ahead.
Well, tell you what.
Why don't you join myself
and some fellow travelers at my place.
We're planning an experiment.
It'll be an experience you will not forget.
Oh, I didn't know you were into...
What is it, art?
Yes, that's art, young lady.
It's not a toy. Don't touch that.
So who did your interior decorating, Charles Manson?
Oh, why, fuck you very much.
You have a lot of weapons around.
Didn't you shoot your assistant last year?
Yes, and I feel terrible about that.
But in my defense, she was an idiot
for walking into my line of fire.
Now people go around saying I wanted to kill the bitch.
How do you not go to jail for that?
You still have your permit?
When you're innocent,
you can get away with anything.
Sarah?
Party's in the kitchen.
Sarah? Callie.
Callie? Sarah. Callie is wicked smart.
She's got a PhD in organic chemistry,
but she's sort of an alchemist.
Yeah, she's a bit granola and crystal for me.
She reeks of patchouli oil, but I love her anyway.
So this is it?
How do you ever get the formula for this?
It's my own little secret recipe.
This is government stuff, isn't it?
Aren't you worried about the dangers of taking it?
This isn't the CIA, Sarah.
We're not strapping people down in a dark room
and scaring the fuck out of them
just to see how far we can stretch their sanity.
This is about...freedom, mind expansion.
Power to the people.
Freedom, motherfuckers.
Positive energy. That's right.
Positive energy, huh?
Mm-hmm. I can do that.
Yeah? You positive?
So don't start on me with that... Yeah, I am positive.
fear shit, Sarah, if you're really positive.
Well, it's my first time.
It's normal, right?
What's normal?
Here we go, Sarah.
Ready for takeoff?
A little for you, a little for me.
A little more for you.
Ahh!
Foul fucking venom!
Wow.
How long before it kicks in?
Oh, a few minutes. 30 at the very most.
Not as fast as injecting it,
but not as junkie, either.
Here we go...chaser.
Ms. Weiss, I wanted to ask you something.
Sure. What is it?
How do you feel about liars?
Uh, What? Liars?
Liars, swine, swindlers.
I don't know. What do you mean?
Well, I, for one, cannot stand the bastards
who are bad at it. That's it.
They lack a certain panache.
Well, who does?
Now, I'm not opposed to a good...
a good swindle every now and then,
but a bad one, a bad liar,
that's something that I simply can't abide.
Yeah, I--I agree with you.
What is it?
Your name's not Sarah Weiss, is it?
Excuse me?
Now I can understand your reticence with taking the drug.
I mean, why would a fine, upstanding investigative journalist
like Anne Roland want to sully
an already fragile reputation with bad business like that?
No, it's not like that. You have to...
It's okay, it's okay.
I've, uh...
I've told a few lies in my time, too.
Yes. Recently, in fact.
For instance, I told you that the drug was in that blue liquid,
which you so discreetly threw in my wastepaper bin.
It's not?
No. No.
It was in the whiskey you just drank.
You motherfucker!
No sympathy for the devil.
Keep that in mind.
Buy the ticket, take the ride!
And it's gonna be a good one.
Olivia, call me back as soon as you get this.
Blackburn tricked me into drinking that chemical.
He knew exactly who I was this whole time.
Call me.
This is Anne, by the way.
I...
I can't be alone with Blackburn.
I feel uncomfortable.
I--I feel unsettled.
Unsettled? What, like physically?
Something is coming.
What do you mean, something's coming?
Are you okay?
No, I'm not.
What's going on? Wh-what--
Something's watching you?
I don't like this. It can see me.
Who can see you?
I don't know.
Did you hear that?
Callie?
What's happened?
Are you okay?
It looked at me from the window.
What did?
Talk to me!
I turned around, and it was looking at me.
I saw it.
It's coming to the house now.
What is?
It's downstairs now by the back door.
What is?
You know.
Aah!
What is going on?
There's something in your house, Thomas!
There's something in your house!
Why, you're just hallucinating!
Calm down!
No, no. Callie saw it! I saw it!
There's something in your house!
What? What? What? Saw what?
It wants to wear us.
It wants to wear us!
Don't say that. Don't say that.
All right. You fuckers stand over there.
Go on. Sit in the corner.
Sanity, for fuck's sake.
I hear something.
What the fuck?
Holy...
shit!
What the fuck was that? It was a hallucination.
No, but-- We took a drug.
No. No, no, no.
Oh, fine!
Whoa! Whoa, whoa! Stop it!
What's happening?
Shut up.
Oh, fuck.
Do you have any idea who I am?
I'll blow your fucking...
Where's my gun?
Thomas? Wake up.
Thomas?
Wake up. Wake the fuck up.
Where--Where's Callie?
Where did she go?
Don't know.
Where--Where the fuck did she go?
What happened?
Was it the drug?
Did--Did it really happen?
Where is she?
I don't know. It seemed fucking real.
How long were we out?
I don't know. A couple of hours?
I think the drug has worn off at this point.
Oh, before I forget.
Jesus! What the fuck?
How could you-- I'll fucking kill you!
You are just shit, Thomas! Back off!
Let's get the fuck out of here.
Fuck.
Look, I need to know what happened back there.
You and me both, sister.
That's what these government boys do
is they take something beautiful,
something transcendent and powerful,
like pure Dimethyltryptamine, and fuck it up!
Turn it into something dark, something ugly.
What, you think it's a mind control thing?
Well, if it's real,
what happened to Callie's body?
Did you see her body?
No. No, I didn't.
Me, neither.
Makes you wonder.
Yeah. It makes me wonder what else it did.
We're now going to administer
200 milligrams of the new compound,
Number 19 enhanced Dimethyltryptamine,
a combined substance containing extract from the primary source.
Just relax.
There we are.
Just relax, dear.
All right, don't be afraid.
Don't be afraid.
Patient 14?
Patient 14, can you hear me?
What's happening? She's gone.
Where are all the lights?
Let's check in there.
What is happening to her?
No! No! No!
Aah! No!
No! No!
It came. It came through.
What'd you say?
Did you know James Hirsch?
Uh...aspiring writer kid
who wrote me some letters a couple years ago.
Wanted to know about the chemicals used in MK-ULTRA.
So you sent him the new chemical?
Callie made a batch. Each batch is different.
But, yeah. Uh, he asked nicely, using his real name,
so we acquired him some.
Well, James is missing, probably dead.
Did you know that?
I did not. I'm sorry to hear that.
You don't even know what he looks like, do you?
No, I never met him.
So that's it then, huh?
That's what this is all about.
I want to know what happened to James--
why he went missing, who's behind this,
and what this MK-ULTRA drug is really doing to people.
You have any idea what dirty business
the U.S. Government has perpetrated
on its citizens over the last 200 years?
And you want to know about one CIA chemical brainwashing project.
Well, you didn't know James, did you?
No.
Considering you ingested the chemical, too,
I'm surprised you're not more concerned.
I mean, who knows?
This shit could probably kill you, too, Thomas.
Oh, people are afraid of death
just because death is so fucking ordinary.
It happens all the time.
No, not like this.
What about Callie?
How did she get her hands on this--this chemical formula?
We didn't talk much. She didn't talk much.
You don't ask questions like that.
It's bad etiquette, you know.
It makes them squirrelly.
Would you know where she lives?
Maybe we can go there and check.
Yeah, sure. She lives in, uh,
one of these McMansions she bought outside of Reno.
It was in an empty suburb.
She got it when the market tanked.
We used to go there and smoke marijuana.
Aah!
Oh, my God!
Are you okay?
Thomas! Are you okay?
Talk to me! Oh, fuck.
Oh, my head! God damn it!
Shit.
What happened to you?
I don't know. I blacked out.
I heard chattering and then blackness.
Ow, shit!
Thomas?
Ohh!
Are you okay?
The chemical is like a catalyst.
It--It turns your mind into a receiver.
It lets them in.
How do you know that?
I don't. It's just a feeling.
Well, I want to find out who's behind this.
Well, you're in luck, because I think it wants to find us, too.
You stay there.
Take this with you.
Keep it on channel two.
Stay sharp.
Radio check.
Check.
The button's on the side.
Check.
Have you ever read any H.P. Lovecraft?
No.
Wrote a story in about 1930-something or other
was about a scientist who created an electronic device,
a giant tuning fork.
It emitted a resonance wave that, um...
It stimulated anybody who was nearby,
their pineal gland, allowing them to experience
planes of existence outside the scope of accepted reality.
He would see incredible,
sometimes horrible things, these entities.
He kept turning it up higher and higher,
'cause he was really getting off on seeing this shit,
but it was too late when he realized
that the entities,
they could see him, too.
You know, that's a really fucked-up story to be telling me now.
Thomas, it...
It looks like someone's been here.
Are you sure she lived here,
like, ate and slept?
She definitely was here.
How much sleeping she did, I couldn't tell you.
There's a surveillance camera.
Thomas, can you hear me?
I'm getting static.
What am I looking for?
Should be a basement door
around the kitchen someplace,
because anything she's making
is going to be below ground.
Keeps the feds and local law enforcement
from using thermal imaging to discover anything.
I got it.
Callie keeps parts of the human brain down here.
What does that mean?
It means she took at least part of the chemical from the human brain.
Well, whatever floats your boat, right?
Can we go? It's cold out here.
She found Chamber 5.
It's in the Black Rock Desert.
What?
Callie. She found Chamber 5.
It's where they did the original CIA experiments.
Dr. Kessel, MK-ULTRA?
Can we go already?
It's 2:45 in the morning, and my eyes are bleeding.
The time is 5:13 P.M.,
administering 200 milligrams of pure Dimethyltryptamine
extracted from the primary source.
N1.
N2.
H2.
O7.
"N1-N2-H2... - C11.
O7-C11"?
Nitrogen, hydrogen...
oxygen, carbon.
Oh, my God.
Uh, the CIA didn't come up with the formula.
They did.
Oh, my God. You were right.
The chemical doesn't make you hallucinate.
It turns your brain into a receiver
so they could come through.
Shit.
Thomas, I'm looking at the video surveillance footage.
It looks like Callie.
It looks like...
Callie walked down to the basement.
Thomas, are you there?
I can see it on the footage.
It's by the stairs.
Eight minutes ago.
Callie?
Callie, is that you?
Callie?
Aah! Aah!
Aah!
Help me!
Shit! Shit! Fuck!
Ohh! Aah!
Well, Jesus, Anne! You scared me!
There's only one option.
What is that, dear Anne?
Into the desert, Chamber 5.
No shit.
This is the heart of it.
Everything circles around here.
I've seen things in every single place
before either of us took the chemical.
James's cabin, Callie's house, the desert.
This is where we need to go if we want to stop the signal.
This chemical is creating more receivers,
more hosts to wear, more ways to spread.
We've been fucked with enough
by this horrible hydra of a research project.
You don't scare too easily, do you, Anne?
This shit terrifies the fuck out of me.
Well, I'm more scared of what it will do to me
if I try to run
and they all catch up with us.
What if it doesn't follow us?
Do you want to bet your life on that?
Anne, I never gave you the drug.
What?
I was fucking with you.
You lied to me to get your story,
so I returned the favor and I lied to you.
There wasn't anything in that whiskey,
no--no DMT 19.
You're lying. No, I'm not lying.
You can walk away clean, Anne.
What will I do when it catches up with me then?
Then what?
The point is, you don't have to do this.
No, you're wrong.
James's friend, Renny, didn't take the drug.
It was only a matter of days.
Anne...
take your chances.
Isn't that what I'm doing?
Ow!
What?
Shocked me.
Static electricity?
No, no, no, her brain,
it's still giving off an electromagnet charge.
No, no. It's a corpse.
I know it's a corpse, Doctor. It still shocked me.
You seeing this?
There's still activity in the brain?
This is something stronger than normal brain activity.
State of high alertness, beta waves range max at 40 hertz.
This is going up to 135.
That's strong...
I think we can walk from here.
You okay?
Thomas, you're bleeding again.
I'm fine.
You know, we don't have to do this.
I can take you to a hospital.
Hey, you said yourself it'll be waiting for us.
Let's not disappoint.
Every now and then, you run up into a night
that's a stone-ass bummer from start to finish.
On nights like those,
if you know what's good for you,
you hunker down and you hide.
This is not one of those nights.
Tell you what.
We take this gas can,
and we torch whatever we find inside.
Lead on, Anne.
This must be where they're broadcasting from.
There she blows!
Hump like a snow hill.
This is an old fallout shelter.
Well, you gotta give those government boys credit
for efficient repurposing.
After you.
Well, this is it.
It's Chamber 5.
They just left it like this.
Thomas, put the drugs down.
You know what that's for, don't you?
No.
Medical doctors used to tie people down to that
and fill them full of exotic drugs.
Now, that's entertainment.
How do you know that?
What is that?
Fuck if I know.
I can't see anything.
Aah! Oh!
Oh, my God!
What is it?
Thomas, there's something alive in here!
This is the transmitter.
This is the source. We...
We need to burn this thing.
Where did we put the gas?
They wanted us to come here!
Thomas, where the fuck--
There's something...
There's something coming down the hall!
Thomas, there's something coming down the hall!
Close the fucking door!
They're coming for us. They're coming for us.
My God, they're coming for us.
That's it. We're dead.
Ohh!
Oh, fuck.
Here, you fucks.
No, no, no, no! Sorry, Anne.
Aah!
Thomas!
Damn you!
Please...come...back.
Aah!
Please...come...back.
Come...back.
Aah!
No!
Aah!
No!
No.
No. No.
James? No.
No.
Thank God!
I never thought I'd be so happy to see you.
Just so damn glad you're safe.
You scared the shit out of me.
How you feeling?
Um, I'm surviving.
Do you think they'll charge me with anything?
Rising Journal will take care of any legal fees.
I think they'll just want to keep you
a little while for questions
while they try to sort things out.
There's gonna be years of questions.
Video forensics company sent back your U-matic tape.
They were able to pull additional footage from the end.
Well, what else is on that tape?
Let's...
Let's not worry about that now.
The things I saw, I can't...
I found James's remains, Olivia, in Chamber 5.
I--I--It was like he was watching me this whole time.
It was wearing him.
Who?
It wasn't the drug that killed him.
It is a chemical catalyst that turns the brain
into some sort of receiver and--and...
so they could come through.
Okay. I'm not saying this,
but you know what they'll say.
They know the truth.
I--I really wish I didn't.
Can I ask you something?
Sure.
You're 100% certain that Blackburn didn't put anything in your drink?
Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.
But how do you know for sure?
He wouldn't.
He has no reason to.
Well, I hope you're right.
'Cause you just never know what's really going on in someone's head.
Yeah, you're right.
You never found Renny Seegan, did you?
No.
And he never took the drug, right?
No. I... You're gonna be okay.
No.
No, no, no.
What is that sound?
No, no, no. No, no.
Help!
No! No!
Somebody help! Please help us!
No!
Aah!
Again.
Aah!
It turns your mind into a receiver.
It lets them in.
Approaching 475 volts.
His neurological response is already so disrupted,
he's not going to be able to recall any of this.
He's going to exhibit
some very unusual mental side effects for the rest of his life.
Fine. Make certain.
And again.
Aah!
You never know what's really going on in someone's head.
What kind of friend gives you poison?
When you're done, take him out of here.
Just dump him?
He's injected with DMT 19.
We have no idea what effect on the brain...
Clean-up and rehabilitation are not our purview.
We are done with him.
You want me to just hand him off to a field team?
Yes.
He lived near the campus, grad student volunteer.
You can get his address from our personal file.
What's the name?
Uh...Blackburn.
Thomas Blackburn.
Hit him again.
Aah!
But the follow-up study showed that 60% of those
who had been de-patterned still have amnesia
for periods of anywhere from 6 months to 10 years.
That's quite a memory loss, isn't it?
That is a memory loss. Indeed it is.
It's, uh, more...
I think more than desirable.
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