Part 34 (1/2)
”Can we agree this place is creepy?” Ricky whispered.
I nodded and pulled my hand back. ”Macy said it wasn't an army base, but that's what it looks like.”
”Could be. We're heading to the biggest building, right?”
”Yep. In the middle.”
He surveyed the landscape. Beyond the pillbox houses we could make out buildings a couple of stories tall. We stuck to shadows and silence as we made our way toward them.
I made notes of my surroundings, trying to arrange everything into a mental map. There'd been only one road leading in, but there were more here, laid out in a grid pattern. Like an army base or other ”prepackaged” community. What else needed to be isolated like this? A prison? A commune? It seemed too open for the former and too industrial for the latter.
We were pa.s.sing the last of the house-like buildings when I caught sight of words carved into the foundation. I touched Ricky's arm to stop him as I bent to read. Someone had painstakingly etched a sentence into the concrete blocks.
There is no freedom from the prison of the mind.
I looked around at the tiny houses with no gla.s.s in the barred windows. With doors that could be locked from the outside.
I fought chills as I rose. We continued on, me following in Ricky's tracks as we skirted a two-story building, circling until we could see around the front.
There was a car in the middle of the main road. The interior light was on, the pa.s.senger door open. Across the street stood a building that looked like a high school. A long three-story rectangle, saved from architectural obscurity by a tower rising an extra twenty feet over the main doors. On top of the tower was a cross with a broken arm. To the left, an empty flagpole groaned in the wind. There was a balcony on the front tower, half the railing missing.
Over the main doors, I could make out a sign, with letters big enough to read in the moonlight. Part of the first word was obscured, but I could see the rest. State Hospital.
”Hospital?” Ricky whispered. ”Way out here? With cabins for patients?”
”It's a mental hospital.”
”An asylum?”
I gazed around. Those locked box cabins wouldn't exactly meet modern standards for mental care, but they weren't cages, either. I took in the architecture. Early twentieth century. The rise of modern psychiatry, if I remembered my college cla.s.ses. Not anyplace I'd want to stay, but past the era of treating patients like animals.
”An early psychiatric inst.i.tution,” I whispered. ”Not Bedlam, but not up to today's code.”
An experiment, it seemed, in a more humane way to treat the mentally ill. Still locking them up and keeping them away from normal folks, but giving them some sense of a community. Yet I remembered those words carved in stone, and a chill ran through me, as it hadn't in the cemetery. That was death. Final and unavoidable. This...?
There is no freedom from the prison of the mind.
I shook it off. Knowing the function of the compound helped, if only to keep my brain from whirring to solve the puzzle. Ricky motioned he was going to slip from the shelter of the building and take a look down the road. I stayed where I was and watched him as he crept along the wall. He moved three careful steps from it, staying in its shadow as he peered down the lane.
He scanned the collection of buildings. Then he gestured for me to wait as he set out, flush with the wall then crossing the gap to the next building with a few fluid steps, never pausing to check where he put his feet down, as if knowing they'd land silently. When he did pause, his gaze swept the road, his head moving slowly, deliberately.
He looks like he's hunting.
Desire and fascination mingled unbidden as I watched him. Wind bl.u.s.tered past, and his blond hair whipped against his face, but he didn't even seem to notice, just kept looking along the buildings. Then he returned to me.
”Someone's down there,” he said. ”Watching for us.”
”Third building across the road, right? I noticed a faint light.”
He shook his head. ”Too obvious. That's a decoy. Same as the building beside this one where the door's cracked open. Both are staged. He's in the one to the right of it. Second story. Left front corner room.”
”What's the giveaway?”
”I drew him out, standing in the road like that. He knows you're not alone now, which should put him on notice. If the girl's over there-” he pointed at the three-story building ”-he can't get to her without us seeing. You can go look for her while I keep an eye on him.”
”Thank you.”
Keeping an eye on our mystery man didn't mean staying where we were. There was no need, now that he'd spotted Ricky. So we darted to the car, using that for cover, before das.h.i.+ng to the three-story building across the road.
The open front door was plastered with more No Trespa.s.sing and Private Property signs, along with warnings that the building was in unsafe condition and trespa.s.sing could result in serious injury or death. Judging by the number of jimmy marks in the frame, the warnings hadn't stopped urban explorers intent on taking a look.
The door opened into a reception room. It seemed tiny, given the size of the building. I guess they hadn't expected many visitors. A counter extended across the room, with mail cubbies behind it. Bits of crumbled concrete and blown-in leaves littered the floor. My footsteps crunched across the debris as we walked.
I took out my phone, for both the flashlight and the directions I'd jotted down from Macy's instructions.
”I need to go that way,” I said, pointing. There were doorways at either end of the reception area, the doors long gone.
”And I'll go that way.” Ricky pointed opposite. ”Upstairs, where I have a better vantage point. Can you stand watch while I do that? I'll text when I'm in place.”
I nodded.
”Be careful in here,” he whispered. ”Just because I know where the girl's kidnapper is doesn't mean he's alone.”
”I know.”
It took Ricky a few minutes to get upstairs. Then he texted to say he could still see the guy, and I set out.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.
The open doorway led to a hall. The exit I wanted was on my left, with its door hanging by the top hinge. I walked through it into another hall, this one so short I wondered why they bothered making it a hall at all. It was really more of an entranceway, leading into a cavernous room. I stepped inside.
Huge windows let in enough moonlight for me to look around. The room took up two stories, with rows of pipes hanging from the ceiling. Were they pipes? Or had they once held lighting? I couldn't tell from down here. As for what the room had been used for, there was little doubt of that. There were still a few metal bed frames, bolted to the floor.
As I moved through the ward, movement flickered above. Rotting rafters showed through chunks of missing ceiling. A black shape took form on one of the suspended pipes. I lifted my flashlight to see a perched raven watching me.
”Ewch i ffwrdd, bran,” I muttered.
The raven lifted its wings, ruffling its feathers as if offended. Then it settled back into silent watching. At another flash of motion, I noticed a hole in the roof. Moonlight streamed through it. Then the moon vanished as an owl glided past.
Ravens and owls. That's no coincidence. They're here for a reason.
Watching me.
I kept going with one eye on the raven. It didn't move. I pa.s.sed through the left doorway at the end of the ward and came out into ...
A bathroom.