A Night at the Asylum (19 page)

“You took my gun,” he whispered with a little
laugh, and I had to laugh with him. “I think I was going to
chastise you for saving my life, also,” he said, and his voice was
a gravelly purr, as if he'd just awakened from a long sleep. And
indeed he had. He pressed his forehead against mine and stared
right into my eyes. I felt a shiver as I relished his closeness,
his warmth. “But I...” he laughed shyly, blushing, and I caught a
flash of his white teeth. “You made me forget what I was going to
say.”

My heart fluttered and my legs went weak as I
shook my head incredulously at him. Could he have any idea how he
made me feel? It would be impossible to put into words. “How the
hell did you get in here without anyone seeing you?” I asked him
breathlessly instead.

“This is my secret room. I’ve been coming
here since I was a little kid. I always thought it was pretty
obvious that it was back here, but nobody else ever seemed to find
it.” He looked around the dark rectangle. He put his arm out to
steady himself against the desk behind me, a little wobbly now.
When he spoke again his words were hesitant. “What we came here for
is in the next room. She told me to wait for you here.”

I knew he meant Jamie. “Are you okay?” I
asked him, brushing his hair away from his face carefully. He was
just so beautiful; I couldn't believe I'd never fully acknowledged
it before now.

“I think I will be,” he said, then nodded his
head, as if he’d convinced himself. “I think it’s mostly out of my
system. I can form a complete sentence now, right?” We both
laughed. “What about you? Are you okay?” His green eyes were
intense, serious now, probing my face.

I swallowed hard to keep from crying again.
“Everything is so fucked,” I admitted, and we both laughed again,
this time through tears.

He held my face in his hands and looked into
my eyes. Even though I wanted to fall down right there and give up,
I couldn’t. His gaze held me then as it had so many times before.
Hypnotized. I was torn between that odd stirring, that desire that
welled up within me, and the anguish I felt seeping back into my
blood. He closed his eyes, and I could sense his exhaustion, knew
that he couldn't go on much longer without more help than what I
could give him. But at least he seemed stronger than he was at the
restaurant. “Don’t worry,” he whispered against my lips. “We’re
going to get out of here. Together. It’ll be okay.” So much had
changed. Such a short time ago everything had seemed so hopeless.
But I believed him. I had to concentrate to keep from turning into
gelatin as I kissed him again. It took all my willpower to stop. He
took hold of my hand in his, and led me to the back of the room.
“This is the way out,” he said.

In the back corner, obscured by the metal
shelf and the opacity of the shadows, was a door that led into the
hall beside the viewing room. Emmett quickly explained that the
door in the paneling I’d come through was only an entrance for
doctors and clergy members, though why it had been wallpapered over
he wasn’t sure. “When I was eight,” he said softly, pushing on the
shelf, “I found a kitten here. He’d probably gotten separated from
his mother or something.” I watched him as he spoke, and his eyes
glistened, even in the dark. “I brought him home and…I didn’t tell
anyone, because I knew my mom and dad wouldn’t let me keep him. I
thought I did such a good job hiding him…I even made a little house
for him under my bed and everything.” He laughed softly.

“Did your parents ever find out?” I asked,
giving the shelf a shove. It squeaked and scraped on the floor as
it budged only a few inches.

I could barely see a thing, but still noticed
the subtle change in his expression. “I woke up the next morning,
and the kitten was lying in bed beside me. He was dead. My father
had found him, and…and broke his neck...then laid him beside me
like nothing happened.”

I blinked back tears, shaking my head. Such a
horrible soul Brad was. Such a despicable legacy to leave.

“Of course he told me right away. He was
proud of it. Said he was trying to teach me a lesson.” Emmett shook
his head. “He really just wanted to kill something I loved.”

That settled it. The minute we got out of
here I was getting him a kitten.

We finally pushed the shelf over far enough
to squeeze through the door. “Wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. He
looked back at me questioningly. “Ead is in here somewhere. I saw
him. We have to be careful.”

“Do you remember where the laundry room is?”
Emmett asked me, his fingers circling my wrist.

“Yes. I think so.”

“It’s just on the other side of the boiler
room,” he whispered. “That’s where we need to go.” He started out
the door, but I pulled him back again.

“Emmett?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re real?” I felt myself
start to shake. “Because if you actually bought the farm out there
in the car and somehow you’re just some…super-tangible ghost and I
won’t find out until the M. Night Shyamalan-like ending to this
whole thing…” I pulled him close to me. “I’m not kidding…I will
kill myself.”

He didn’t look at me like I was a crazy
person. I loved that about him. Instead he kissed me again and
wrapped his arms around me. He was warm, and I could feel his
heartbeat, strong and steady. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t ‘buy the
farm’,” he assured me with a heart-stopping smile, his voice
dipping low into that deep gravelly purr once more. “But I’ll tell
you one thing. I am never drinking soda again. That shit is
gross.”

I smiled at him, pushing his hair away from
his face. “You know…Jamie’s going to have to stop that whole
dream-visiting thing once this is over. A girl could get
jealous.”

He grinned and my heartbeat faltered at the
sight of it. “Ah, she’s only been in my dreams for a year,” he
said. “But I’ve loved you since the first grade, so…”

I blushed so hard my face was lit aflame, and
I was glad it was dark. I had to laugh at him. “Jesus, you’re
killing me,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes at him.

“Come on,” he said, with a tilt of his
head.

Emmett went out the door first, looking both
ways to make sure the coast was clear. Hearing thunder in the
distance, I realized it was still storming. Here in the basement of
the building the sound was nearly canceled out. I looked down at my
dead phone, tucked it back into my pocket, and held onto Emmett’s
hand as we crept into the dark corridor as quietly as possible.

We crossed the boiler room and had to shove
through the door to the laundry room, which had been barricaded by
a stack of metal chairs. Once we were inside, it was almost too
dark to see again. There were no windows here. On one wall were
several old, industrial-sized washing machines. On another there
was a doorway, through which there was a changing room equipped
with a line of metal lockers. The doorway was blocked by more
chairs, piled to the ceiling. Nearly every damned chair in the
building must have been stored here. I reached down for my
flashlight but realized I didn’t have it. “And the gun…” I told
Emmett, and we stared at each other for a moment. “I think I might
have left it back there.”

Emmett thought for a second, and then picked
up a chair. “Come on, help me with these,” he said. “Let’s just get
this out of here and we’ll go back.”

For several minutes, we worked wordlessly in
the dark, moving chairs out of the path of the doorway, trying to
make as little noise as possible. Emmett had to stop to rest
several times and I was growing increasingly worried about him. He
insisted he was fine. Finally we had created enough of an opening
that we could squeeze through and reach the lockers. It was pitch
black. Emmett seemed to be counting something off in his head,
scrutinizing each tall metal box individually. “I wish I could
remember which one it was,” he murmured. He disappeared into the
dark corner for a minute, and there was the obnoxious sound of
metal scraping metal. I looked around, paranoid that someone would
hear. When he reappeared, he was covered in cobwebs and dust. In
his hands, he held a battered, filthy, round object, black with
orange flames. It was just as I remembered, except for the long,
horrific dent in one side. That was new. I covered my mouth with my
hand, the tears coming.

Emmett set the helmet down carefully on a
chair and embraced me. The mosaic of pain on his face told me he
still blamed himself for Tommy’s death, and he was still afraid I
agreed with him. “I’m so sorry,” he said for what must have been
the hundredth time.

“This is not your fault. Your brother’s the
fucking psycho, not you. Okay?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared off into
space.

“Tommy was on his way to Bonita’s house that
night…” I murmured, looking down at the black beast on the chair
with contempt. “He said he had something important to take care of.
Then he promised me he would meet me back home so we could go to
the basketball game together.”

“But he never showed,” Emmett finished for
me.

“Yeah.” I laughed a little, empty and cold.
“I thought he was just being an ass. I went to bed that night and I
was mad at him. I woke up to my mother in the kitchen, on the
phone, screaming.”

“I’m sorry,” Emmett said again.

“I can’t imagine how frustrated he’s been
since then,” I whispered. “Knowing that none of us knew the
truth.”

There was a strange look on Emmett’s face.
“You believe your brother is…”

“Do you believe what you’ve seen?” I asked
him.

He thought for a moment, and then nodded.
“Yes.”

“The worst is what happened to Jenny,” I
breathed, remembering again the pain, the horror from when her
memories were placed in my brain, like a movie on a borrowed
projector. I remembered her lying next to me in that hole in my
dream, the smell of her skin, the decaying scent of mildew and
earth.

Hiddeninasylum.

“Emmett…do you think she’s here somewhere? In
this building?”

“I’d almost guarantee it,” he answered
gravely. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to stick around and
find out.” The sound of police radios crackled somewhere in the
distance.

Just make sure you don’t forget about
me!
she’d screamed. And I wouldn’t. But I had to make sure we
got out of here safe first. Then I’d have to try to stop the
demolition somehow. Maybe the storm had already taken care of
that.

“Alright.” I grasped Emmett’s hand roughly,
and we started toward the door. “Let’s hurry.”

Emmett tucked the helmet under his arm as we
left. It was the same drill as before; we had to look around, go
quietly, carefully. The corridor was clear. I grasped his arm and
let him pull me back toward the viewing room, and we seemed to move
down the hall in slow motion. We’d found what we’d come here for,
and now we just had to make it back to the morgue and out the
window. This was going to be the longest five minutes of my
life.

Emmett’s fingers clasped my wrist tightly. We
were almost there. Something caught my eye on the floor. I stopped
so fast and bent down I almost dragged him along with me. My knee
touched the ground and I felt cold wetness seep into my pants as I
picked up a tiny white tile I had nearly stepped on. I turned it
over curiously in my hand. It was a single domino, covered in tiny
black dots.

Time seemed to stop, and I was filled with
wonder. It had taken five years for Tommy to make me understand, to
lead me to this place, this second, where the truth could be
redeemed. He’d never given up. He’d showed me exactly what I needed
to see, employed whatever pathway would bring me here. When I’d
felt hopelessly lost, he’d led me to Emmett. How hard it would have
been for me to believe something like this could happen if it
hadn’t happened to me.

I looked up to see the door to the visitor’s
room opening. Ead Sutter stepped into the hallway, pointing the gun
he’d found discarded on the floor.

If I hadn’t been kneeling, the bullet would
have gone right through me.

“Sara – run!” Emmett shouted, his face
contorting with fear. I took off down the corridor in a terrified
sprint, ducking into the first doorway I saw. It was the laundry
room. I pushed myself toward the back near the lockers, crouching
down in the darkest, furthest corner.

That’s when I realized Emmett wasn’t with
me.

Another gunshot rang out in the hallway,
skittering off the sheetrock. All there was to do was pray. I
prayed to my brother. “Please, Tommy, help me. Help me.” Quiet
footsteps neared the door to the laundry room, and I held my
breath. I just had to somehow make it to the morgue. Then I could
get out of here…but I wouldn’t leave without Emmett.

I heard a blurt of white noise and a voice on
a police radio. I couldn’t tell what was being said. Seconds later
the text chime on my phone went off. What the hell? Hadn’t it died
like a half hour ago? I winced and opened it carefully. The noise
had been so loud. Had Ead heard it?

The text was from 58008 again. From Tommy.
THRD FLR, it read. I shook my head. Was he telling me to go to the
third floor now? How was that logical? Another text came and I
finally set the phone to vibrate. I couldn’t take the chance of the
damned thing getting me killed. This next message made it clear I
wasn’t supposed to argue. A palpable wave of frustration hit me,
but it felt like it was coming from somewhere else. Or maybe
some
one
.

JUSTGO.

I waited, listening. I didn’t hear anything;
not footsteps, not gunshots, not the radio. But I didn’t think for
a minute that Ead could actually be gone. Something furry, with
tiny legs, skittered across the back of my neck. It was hard to be
quiet when you know a spider is about to make a nest in your hair.
I came out of the corner silently flailing, like some sort of
demented mime, and tripped over a chair. A horrendous crashing
noise ensued, and I scrambled into the dark corner behind the door
to the room, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would
burst.