Wolf Asylum (2 page)

Darwin shot back startled, “did they also mention I was not to be disturbed?”

“No one wanted to come and get you. I volunteered. I've heard about your privacy when you come here. I wouldn't have come unless I thought it was urgent,” Caroline reassured.

“What is it?” Darwin asked, rising to his feet.

“The Director of Riverview Psychiatric Institute changed his appointment from tomorrow to today and he'll be here in less than an hour. I know how important that meeting is for us. Doctor Gagnon has already been notified and is on her way to City Hall, Tara is at the office and is prepared to host the meeting, but we knew you wanted to be there.”

“Thank you Caroline, you were right to come.” Darwin walked away from his friend not knowing what was on Steve's mind. That question would have to be left for another day.

“May I ask who he was?” Caroline asked.

“A good friend who should have been by my side in this. That choice was taken away from me. Now, I come here when I need guidance or companionship. It is my way of remembering a great man,” Darwin offered.

“We all remember our loved ones in different ways. If that's what works for you, then you shouldn't worry about what others think.” Caroline replied.

“It's a private matter,” Darwin concluded before marching ahead of Caroline. “What do we know about this man from Riverview?

“Very little. We know more about the hospital. The hospital was built in 1897 and is slated for demolition next year. It is the only sanatorium within five hundred miles that deals with the criminally insane. Riverview was considered a premier facility for treatment and detention of the worst in psychiatric problems. Unfortunately for them, the buildings have been condemned and no one is willing to front the money for a new hospital. That's where we come in. By offering a replacement without strings attached we can all but assure ourselves the care center moving here.”

Darwin sighed. “What if they don't like what we're offering? Let's face it, a geriatric hospital is a long way from mental hospital.”

“True, but I think we can reassure Riverview that with some minor upgrades it can be made into an effective psychiatric hospital. If we're the ones flipping the bill, do they really care?”

“What about the patients, will they be missed?” Darwin asked.

“From what I have heard, these people
are
the forgotten. No one visits them because there's nothing to visit. Most have no clue of who or what they are. I think in the long run it will be a solid and replenishing source of food for us.”

“How many patients are we talking about?”

Caroline replied as a matter of fact, “Riverview can house nearly a thousand patients, but that was in its heyday. The numbers now are around five hundred and I expect we would only be taking the worst of the worst, so roughly three hundred and fifty. I was thinking with numbers that low, we might consider utilizing the female patients in the breeding program.”

Darwin nodded. “That's a good idea. You're not so bad, Caroline. You've come a long way since January,” he admitted in truth. “Do you ever think about the people you left behind in Special Handling?”

Caroline remained silent for a moment, contemplating her feelings but she finally answered, “when I changed the first time, I knew what I was. It felt amazing and I loved it. I knew I was an accident and I thought I could fight you, fight for the captives; but once I fed it all began to make sense. In a way the only reason I hold any thoughts for the ones I left behind is knowing they could be like me, but I have no use for them the way they are now. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Darwin said slowly.

Hearing someone else struggle with the same emotions made him feel better about his own situation. The change in thought process was a normal one. Darwin stumbled on his words, but his next question had been nagging him for awhile.

“Do you think we do the things we do because we have to, or because we want to?”

“Deep thinking, Darwin,” Caroline joked.

“I'm serious. What do you think?” Darwin's concern dampened his eyes.

“Well…” she started and then stopped. Actually, she had never considered the question herself. Caroline had killed more than her fair share of people and had embraced her existence, quickly turning on the people she had once been a prisoner with. The gift had consumed her, as it had consumed every other infected person; but the question demanded an answer.

“I don't know,” she replied honestly. “A part of me knows the answer lies somewhere between the two. I can tear a child apart and feel no remorse and I can't explain it. I know what feelings I should have; six months ago I would have never hurt an adult, let alone a child. There is a thrill in it—it's not always about the meal.”

Darwin said, “The thrill of the hunt. Part of me is dying to chase some prey through the streets and woods and rip them to shreds. What we have here in New Haven is so refined—sophisticated, that our inner animal is being neglected. What we are is primal. We deserve to shed ourselves of this human canvas and live our lives as it was intended. Do you agree?”

“Oh, yes! I'm getting warm just thinking about it.”

Darwin asked with his canines beginning to show, “after our meeting, I think we should treat ourselves to a little run through the woods. Are you up for it?”

Caroline cracked a big smile, but said nothing more. The two returned to city hall for their meeting, but it was their pending snack that remained at the forefront of their minds.

“Your town's gracious offer is one we cannot ignore, but you must understand the challenges of relocating and housing these patients. They are not your average psychological subjects. Some of them require special accommodations and—” The Director was cut off in mid sentence causing a precariously close slosh of his coffee.

“Around the clock surveillance, coupled with intensive psychotherapy and pharmaceutical interventions.” Doctor Gagnon threw out her comment in arrogance, “Yes, Mister Kimbel; my medical staff are well versed in these areas.”

“I'm sorry Doctor Gagnon, but I don't think you understand. Do you know what Riverview's chief priority was?” Kimbel asked.

The room remained silent so he continued, “Riverview was never intended to treat the mentally dysfunctional, these people are beyond treatment. Bluntly, most of them are walking time bombs because you never know when or what will set them off. The chief priority of Riverview was to ensure that these people never saw the light of day and to protect society—that's it. So, please forgive me if I sound ungrateful, but you can forget your unerring ideology. For your safety and the safety of others, the security of your hospital must be airtight. Anything less than that is unacceptable.”

Mayor Bollen smiled. “Of course, Mister Kimbel. As a matter of fact, I would like you as our consultant while we retrofit our facility. I want you to be comfortable in turning over control of your patients to us.”

Kimbel squeezed his coffee mug tighter, making his knuckles turn white. “Comfort is a luxury I do not have. The decision to move the facility has already been approved by the Board of Directors against my objections. I am here to liaise, precisely as you have just requested, Ms. Mayor.”

“What are your objections, perhaps we can put them at ease?” Darwin asked from his position leaning against the wall.

“I'm sorry, you are?” Kimbel asked.

“Darwin Foster, I'm with city planning. I admit my qualifications greatly exceed the requirements for a project of this size, just the same, I think I can help.” Darwin pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the liquor he had stashed inside an antique cabinet.

“I see. You won't mind my asking where you received your education?” Kimbel asked as he eyed the confident young man help himself to a glass of Jack Daniels.

“Would you like one, Mister Kimbel?” Darwin asked, forgetting to offer one to the puppet mayor.

Tara chimed in, “Pour me one, Darwin; and one for Mister Kimbel…I think we could both use it.”

“I'm fine with the coffee. I have a long drive back,” Kimbel said.

“Sure.” Darwin smiled, pouring a drink for Tara and quickly handing it to her. With his own Jack in hand Darwin took a tiny sip which sent a rush through his body. “I'm actually self taught, Mister Kimbel. Education is for the ungifted.”

Kimbel froze, unsure of how to respond and now he was wishing he had taken the drink.

“I'm kidding! I have a degree from UCLA, I actually just graduated, top of my class,” Darwin lied.

“Congratulations, Mister Foster. You look so young to have such a grand accomplishment. You must be very bright?” Kimbel politely implied.

“Actually, I worked very hard to get to where I am. I'm just blessed with youthful looks,” Darwin sneered. “So, what were your concerns? I'm more than willing to bet I have a plan for every concern you may have. You don't graduate top in your class and then show up to a job unprepared.”

Kimble replied, “Mister Foster, Ms. Bollen…the board simply does not understand the situation. They are a numbers group; the sooner we can close our doors the sooner the land can be sold off. It's a monies game now. Frankly, I think you could have offered to house the patients in a wooden box and the move would still have been approved. They don't understand the kind of patients we deal with. We are a repository of evil. Our patients kill for no reason. Some hear voices, some see things but the insanity always drives them to kill. One of our patients broke through his restraints not that long ago. He killed a nurse, but not before biting off her nipples. By the time the orderlies arrived, the patient was running around the room with the nipples plastered to his eyes laughing hysterically. That is not an isolated case, it's almost the norm at Riverview.”

Kimbel paused and asked, “are you prepared to take on that challenge Ms. Mayor?”

“I think New Haven will put the fear of God into them,” Darwin replied with a smirk and another big slurp of his JD.

Doctor Gagnon asked, “Mister Kimbel, can I count on your assurance that the complete medical history of every patient we receive will accompany them?”

“Of course. Keep in mind, the medical files are more like behavioral logs. The files will tell you a lot but Riverview abandoned treatment years ago. The majority of patients simply receive tranquilizers to keep them calm. I think your attending physicians would be wise to follow the same plan of action that we have,” Kimbel concluded.

“Thank you Mister Kimbel, I will keep that under advisement.” Doctor Gagnon made a notation in her ledger, not looking up.

“How many physicians do you have in New Haven?” Kimbel asked.

“One,” Tara replied.

Kimbel's hand shuddered from nervous shock. “For the entire town? Now she wants to take on a mental hospital, as well?”

Tara replied with her Public Relations charm, “we are always hopeful that we can acquire more doctors. Fortunately, New Haven is blessed with exceptional health. Doctor Gagnon feels she can more than handle this proposal. Actually, we're fortunate to be over-burdened with nursing staff which will help in the interim while we try to find a few more doctors. I've grown to trust Doctor Gagnon's judgment, and if she says she can handle it, then I believe her,” Tara shrugged. “Besides, it sounds like these people don't need a doctor, they need a jailor.”

“True, but I would feel better for you with a larger team of doctors,” Kimbel said.

“You and I both. I'm always worried that our good fortune could come to an abrupt end. For the moment, I think Doctor Gagnon can handle the situation. If you have any doctors that want to transfer here, I'm sure we would be more than happy to take them on, if that would put your mind at ease.” Tara suggested.

“I will take that back to Riverview and see if there's any interest in relocating. Honestly, I think the staff will be happy to see it close.” Kimbel stopped, delicately wording his next question.

“A town so utterly perfect, quaint, accommodating and friendly; why on earth would you welcome the doors of Hell to your home?”

Tara smiled a little, “every town has its secrets, a dark side so to speak. New Haven is no different. Our perfection is nothing more than an illusion. We've known Hell; we've just learnt how to deal with it. Your little hospital will not be a challenge for us, I promise you that. It's just another way for our town to grow and prosper…to feed our appetite for success.”

“A progressive town; no opportunities turned away?” Kimbel asked.

Darwin laughed. “If we could make something out of toxic waste we'd probably get into that business too! New Haven has been economically depressed for years; when the coal mine shut down the town nearly died. We are reinventing the community—we're not in a position to be discriminatory. We've lost half our population already. If New Haven is to survive, we need industries.”

“Not a lot of money in mental hospitals,” Kimbel uttered as he slurped back his coffee that he had only nursed up until now.

“True,” Darwin admitted. “We've developed a more comprehensive plan. A hospital on its own might not generate large amounts of revenue, but in conjunction with a university-specializing in medicine and research, we believe the plan will create an economic engine. It is our hope that the new Hadamar Wellness Retreat and subsequent spin off industries will amount to a twenty percent contributing portion of the town's treasury within ten years.”

“It's good to have goals, no matter how lofty,” Kimbel replied.

Doctor Gagnon interjected, “Mister Kimbel, why don't you and I head over to Hadamar? You can survey the building and give us your input on what upgrades we still must make. The Mayor has another appointment in a few minutes; we can always speak with Mayor Bollen later, should you feel the need.”

“Fine.” Kimbel rose from his seat, snapped his grip loose from the mug and left it near the edge of the old, wooden desk. He quickly grabbed Tara's hand, firmly shaking it before moving to Darwin. Kimbel again extended his hand and made a point to look into his eyes. In that brief moment, Kimbel saw the lies. He had seen it all before. Neither man spoke a word.

Tara said warmly, “I'll see you out, Mister Kimbel. Darwin, make yourself at home, we can start our meeting in a little while.”

“Thank you, Tara,” Darwin said to an office door that was more closed than open.

With the pleasantries over, Darwin found himself alone in the office that was his new life. The office was not his, and yet it was. The paintings on the walls and choice in wall paper were not his, but he left them out of respect for Tara. He was the alpha male, in charge of everyone and everything. He was Mayor to his community, but for appearances, Tara reprised her role as Mayor for outsiders, as needed. She was nothing more than a puppet for the world at large to deal with. Darwin was young, and to sell the lie he knew it was best he be only a leader to the group; the idea-man.

When Darwin realized that the gift could alter the way a person viewed the world he began to see how anyone could be made a lycan. Tara's family had all been decimated by Darwin, but with a little bite and some blood she had turned from the angry prisoner in Special Handling to a soldier; lock and step behind her new master. He considered destroying her, but the experiment showed the power the gift had over a person, and how it could make them do things they might not otherwise do. Even though her family was gone, Tara seemed content in her new existence.

Darwin was in charge because he was first lycan in New Haven. It was his ideas that created the utopia they now lived in. Everyone looked to him as though he was some mystic who knew a great deal about the power, but in truth Darwin knew nothing. He kept on with his leadership role, reassuring the citizens that food and privacy would always be plentiful.

Since moving into the mayor's office six months earlier, Darwin had changed little in the work space though nothing stopped him from doing whatever he wanted. The only renovations he had done was having a bedroom and bath installed next to his office for the late night entertaining he assumed he would engage in. Since its completion, Darwin had only used it for private time with himself.

He slumped in the leather chair, reclining enough to put his feet on the desk. The art on the wall he found himself most transfixed by was the Doolittle lithograph titled
Power of One
. It was the depiction of an Indian on a horse charging from the mouth of a cave, as though he was about to go to war. In typical Doolittle fashion, there were images surreptitiously concealed within the art. Like white noise, the bears watched their prey secretly, waiting to lunge at the perfect moment. For now, they chose only to reveal themselves to the fears of imagination.

Darwin wasn't sure why he liked this picture, but it was the one he found himself lost in the most.

Somewhere between sleep and rest Darwin sunk away from the lithograph and cracked his eyes to find himself in a place he had not been since December. The underworld had again taken him and he was at the stone altar in his mind. The cave room was silent except for what sounded like a winter storm howling beyond the rock. The weather was not loud, but present.

“You have done well despite our warnings,” a voice broke in.

“Thank you,” Darwin replied, excited to hear from his masters.

“Gratitude is irrelevant. Your plan must proceed,” the voice returned.

“It is moving ahead,” Darwin stated. “You must be aware of that?”

“Progress is slow, you must accelerate the plan.” Now it was a trio of voices.

“Explain?” Darwin asked.

The masters lectured: “Complacency. Someone approaches, but they remain hidden to us.

Destruction approaches,” the voices breathed. “Complacency must be replaced or face your end,” The sound of three voices came from one face now; a powder white canvas with no eyes, nostrils, or mouth now at an intimidating distance from Darwin.

“Why do you come to me if you can't give me answers? I can't do my job if I don't know what to watch for!”

“Remain vigilant, young Darwin,” all three voices said.

Darwin was again in his office with his feet on the desk just as they had been before. The voices of the other world were now gone, replaced with two onlookers sitting on the opposite side of the desk with one clearing his throat.

“Are you okay, Darwin?” Tim Waters asked. “That was a damn deep sleep you were in.”

“I'm fine, just a little tired, I guess,” he lied. “Why are you two here?”

Clint Littleford responded like a college frat dressed sloppily for a Halloween party. “Now I'm hurt! It's Tuesday, beer night!” He wore a plain leather patch to cover his badly scarred eye that Caroline had clawed from its socket months earlier. He could see, but the eye looked more like a tattered rectum, so he opted to keep it covered. Clint held up an eighteen pack by its cardboard handle. “You forgot, didn't you?”