"They take the charade of a mental institution so far as to have doctors?" What kind of place was this? If they wanted the people here to believe that they were mental patients that badly... the unpleasant notion of brainwashing sprang to Brennan's mind. Then again, it was probably wise to take everything this young man said with a grain of rice. Or... what was it? Salt.

Brennan withdrew her hand, rather awkwardly. Considering how little trust she had placed in him, she hardly blamed him for being wary of her. But it made her unsure of how to react.

"If it helps, I'm not a medical doctor. Or a psychiatrist," she added. "I... don't like psychology. I'm a forensic anthropologist. But you can just call me Brennan." No one called her by her first name except Russ, and she... didn't want to go there. "It's... uh, it's nice to meet you. Keman."

She moved her flashlight away from him, shining it towards the intersection at the end of the hall. "I have a large but quantifiable number of questions that I would still like to ask you, but if you could show me the nearest exit while we talk, I would appreciate that." She needed to get out of here, figure out where exactly here was, and find a way to contact Booth. They needed to make sure this place was shut down.