He breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been much worse.
‘That fucker is a liability,’ Seymour said, ‘but he does have his uses.’
‘Uses?’ Sean asked.
‘A good distraction,’ Seymour replied with a big, self-satisfied grin.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember what I said before, about finding a way to get out of here? Well, I think I have a plan.’
‘What?’ Adrian asked.
Seymour leaned in close to them and held up his hand. There, in his chubby palm, sat an iron key.
‘How did you get that?’ Sean asked, but Adrian had already pieced it together.
‘Swiped it from the ring the guard dropped,’ he said.
‘If someone finds out you took that—’ Adrian started, but was cut off.
‘But they won’t find out, will they?’ Seymour snapped. ‘Now, guess what this will unlock?’
Adrian knew exactly what it would open, as it looked like the same ones the orderlies used to lock them in their rooms every night.
‘But then what?’ Adrian questioned. ‘So you get free of your room? Where do you go then? You won’t get far.’
‘I’ll get far enough,’ Seymour said. ‘Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes. We all have a chance here.’
‘We?’
‘Are you telling me you just want to stay here when you actually have a chance to escape?’ Seymour turned to Sean. ‘What about you, worm-boy? Fancy getting free of this place and getting some more of that opium you crave so much?’
Sean didn’t seem to consider the proposal for very long before he nodded.
‘I do,’ he said.
‘And you, big fella?’ Seymour asked, looking over at Jack, but the large man quickly shook his head and brought his arms up to hug himself protectively.
‘Come on,’ Seymour pressed, ‘stand up for yourself. Come with us and have a chance at a half-normal life. I’m sure there is a girl as big and dumb as you out there that can make a man out of you.’
‘Leave him alone,’ Adrian said. ‘He isn’t going anywhere.’
‘Keeping him here to die with you, then?’
Adrian didn’t get a chance to reply because an orderly yelled out to them all.
‘Everyone make your way over and get your food, and be quick about it.’
People started to rise obediently, and the hunger Adrian had briefly forgotten about during the fight quickly returned.
‘Well?’ Seymour pressed with an urgent whisper. ‘What about it? You were handy enough with me yesterday. Figure you might be of some use.’
‘I don’t want anything to do with it,’ Adrian said, getting to his feet.
‘Stop being so fucking placid,’ Seymour spat. ‘Whatever self-loathing you need to do, do it outside of this prison. Show some backbone.’
‘Just drop it,’ Adrian said.
‘No,’ Seymour replied. ‘Now think hard about this, boy. Tonight, Sean and I are getting out of here. Are you coming with us?’
Adrian didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know if he deserved freedom, but he also didn’t fully trust what was going on in this asylum. ‘I’m… I’m not sure.’
‘Well hurry up and make up your mind,’ Seymour hissed. ‘When we’re out, we’ll come to your room. But you’ll only have one chance, so choose wisely. I won’t hang around.’
Adrian spent the rest of the day in the Communal Area, debating the choice in his head. Every so often Seymour would push him on the subject, but Adrian ducked the questions because he genuinely didn’t know how to answer them.
Could he really allow himself to believe that he deserved redemption and a second chance outside of the asylum?
Eventually, night fell, and the patients were all ordered back to their rooms and locked in.
Adrian sat on his bed and continued his internal struggle. In a few hours, he might have the chance to escape this place. He knew the odds were against Seymour and Sean, and the consequences of their actions would be harsh. But what if they made it?
Adrian couldn’t decide if it was a risk worth taking, or if he even wanted his freedom.
The hours rolled on, and Adrian lay on his bed… waiting.
Chapter 25
Reid’s day had been a slow one, without direction or purpose. The idea of going to work seemed futile considering the position he was now in—any strides he made would be pointless if he wasn’t around to collect the plaudits from the medical community at large.
Instead, he spent the day in his office, sometimes paging through Templeton’s diary—which outlined more of what he now knew about Arlington Asylum and its workings—but mostly daydreaming and staring at the blank walls, weighing up his options.
Surely there was only one answer to give to Templeton. To agree to the offer and live.
But that would mean accepting that he was a prisoner here for the time being, until an opportunity presented itself to escape.
He also considered the substance that was now flowing through his veins—the black liquid that had excreted from the tongue of Robert Wilson. While he didn’t feel ill, exactly—he actually felt healthier and more alert than he had for a long time—Reid did wonder if the substance was poisonous, and if even a small amount would lead to a slow, prolonged death. Still, if Templeton was telling the truth, then the director had the same substance in his blood as well, and he seemed to be suffering no ill effects.
Other than his mental state, perhaps.
As much as Reid was certain that the beliefs Templeton and his followers clung to were fallacies, he still couldn’t explain the things he had seen here, which was maddening to him.
And that was how he spent his day—driving himself crazy and mentally going round and round in circles, waiting for Templeton to show as he promised he would.
Eventually, when night fell, Templeton arrived at Reid’s office and entered without knocking.
‘Have you left this room at all today, Dr. Reid?’
Reid shook his head. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, let us remedy that,’ Templeton said, clapping his hands together. ‘It is time.’
‘To see your old friend again?’
‘That’s right. And I promise it will be a little more enlightening for you this time.’
Reid chuckled. ‘And by that, do you mean I will be violated again?’
Templeton shook his head. ‘That won’t happen. Now, if you will, we should go.’
‘You come alone?’ Reid asked. ‘Thought you would have brought your bodyguard.’
‘Mr. Jones is out in the hallway, along with some other believers who have requested the privilege to go down to the basement.’
‘Privilege? Wow, you people really have your perceptions messed up.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ Templeton said, tapping his foot, ‘there is nothing more to talk about. Now please, let’s go. Otherwise I will have to call in Mr. Jones.’
Reid sighed, but got to his feet. He hated that he was being bullied into this, though he knew he had no choice. Jones was perfectly capable of incapacitating him and carrying him down there if Templeton wished it.
Reid figured he may as well walk under his own volition and prolong an illusion of choice for as long as he could.
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘let’s go.’
‘Excellent,’ Templeton said and, as Reid passed, took hold of his arm. Reid turned to face him as Templeton spoke, making strong eye contact. ‘Keep an open mind tonight,’ he said, ‘because what you will experience will determine your future.’
It was a clear threat.
Reid shrugged Templeton off and stepped out into the hallway, in no way ready for what was to come.
Chapter 26
Adrian wasn’t sure of the exact hour that Seymour showed up at his door, only that it was the dead of night.
And Adrian had made up his mind.
His hatch dropped open, slowly, as to not make too much noise.
‘Adrian,’ the voice of Seymour whispered through the void.
‘I’m not going,’ Adrian told him, hoping it would be enough to drive Seymour away. He didn’t want an orderly to wander by and associate Adrian with the escape attempt.
‘Why?’ Seymour asked, incredulous.
‘Because it won’t work.’
‘Idiot,’ Seymour seethed in an angry whisper. ‘Fine, stay here and rot. No more than you deserve.’
The hatch slowly closed with a squeak, and Adrian let himself breathe a sigh of relief.
Though that turned out to be premature.
‘Hey,’ a voice called. It wasn’t Seymour, however, but someone farther away. Adrian heard Seymour frantically whisper to someone else—Sean, he assumed—before he heard his door unlock. Seymour and Sean came hurrying into the room, shutting the door behind them.
‘Shit,’ Seymour whispered, looking panicked.
No, no, no.
This couldn’t be happening. Adrian would inevitably get drawn into this and apportioned some of the blame.
‘Get out,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘Shut up,’ Seymour snapped back. They could all hear quick footsteps approach from farther down the hallway. ‘Shit,’ Seymour said. There was no way to lock the door from the inside and, therefore, no way to stop whoever was approaching from gaining access.
Adrian felt anxiety begin to rise, and his palms began to sweat.
Okay, he thought to himself, no need to panic. Just explain what happened. Get them to believe that you aren’t part of this.
The door swung open, and a large, overweight orderly stood on the other side, cosh in hand, ready to attack.
‘How the hell did you get out?’ he said and stepped inside. Even though there were three of them, he showed no fear of being outnumbered. But then, why would he? Patients were beaten and ground down into submission here. And neither Sean nor Seymour seemed like they had it in them to overpower the orderly. They looked terrified.
‘Please,’ Adrian said, ‘I have nothing to do with this.’
‘Shut up,’ the orderly said. ‘You’re all in trouble. Gonna get taken off to a more secure ward, I reckon. The director has things in place to deal with people like you. And believe me, you’ll be sorry when you see the… therapies… he’ll put you through.’
The orderly sneered as he spoke, relishing the fear he was instilling in them. He walked over, and Seymour and Sean pressed themselves onto the bed, next to Adrian.
‘I didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Adrian repeated.
The only response he got this time was a club from the cosh across the side of his head. The blow hit him so hard it knocked him from the bed to the ground below, and his vision spun.
He heard the sound of a scuffle above, but was too disoriented to know exactly what was happening. He managed to push himself up to his knees, hoping things would soon come back into focus. Another blow hit him, this one to the back of the head, and again he went down. Then another—a kick this time—then punches rained down as the orderly beat him mercilessly. Adrian tried to croak out an explanation, and an apology, in an attempt to make this stop, but nothing would work.
A familiar feeling of helplessness washed over him as the ferocious attack continued. It was as if he were young again, back home, at the hands of his father.
But he had stood up to his father. And upon realising that, another familiar feeling emerged.
Rage.
Anger at the injustice of it all. It bubbled and boiled, coursing through him until it claimed him completely.
‘No!’ he screamed, loud enough to momentarily shock the orderly. Adrian then used this brief pause in the attack to jump to his feet and, with a roar, wrap his hands around the orderly’s throat. The two wrestled and fell to the floor, with Adrian able to position himself on top of the bigger man. He kept his hold on the orderly’s neck and squeezed as hard as he could.
The man fought back and struck Adrian, punching him in the head, but Adrian was overcome with blind fury and barely registered the blows. He tightened his grip, and the guard began to gag.
‘Let… me… go,’ the man wheezed with tears starting to form in his eyes. It started as an order, but Adrian didn’t let up. ‘Please,’ the man added, now begging with Adrian to stop. It felt good to hear the man’s pleas, so Adrian didn’t let up; instead, he pushed the tips of his thumbs down onto the man’s Adam’s apple. The orderly gagged and coughed as Adrian continued to press down as hard as he could.
The cartilage beneath the tips of his thumbs resisted for a moment before he felt a crunch, but still he did not let up, pushing with even more force. The skin gave way, and his thumbs pierced through while the orderly made a horrible, gargling sound. Blood pooled, then ran freely from the wound that opened in his throat. The orderly made a weak attempt to fight back, but it was futile, and Adrian indulged himself further, digging his fingers into the hole he had created.
Then he ripped.
The orderly’s throat pulled open, forming a gaping red gash as the man’s wet gargles continued to sound. The stringy insides of the gullet were exposed and blood gushed freely. The orderly kicked and fought as his life slipped away.
Adrian continued to rip the ruined throat apart until the guard stopped moving completely and his eyes became glassy and blank.
It took a while, but slowly Adrian’s rapid breathing eased, and he once again started to regain his composure. He pulled his hands from the open wound and lifted them before his eyes. The sight of the murderous weapons—dripping with blood and chunks of claret—brought him fully back to his senses.
‘What did you do?’
It was Sean. Adrian turned to see both him and Seymour standing in the corner of the room, huddled together, having witnessed his barbaric act.
And it was a good question—just what the hell had he done? There was no way he could go back to how things had been after this.
He was in trouble. Serious, serious trouble.
He began to panic.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Adrian said. ‘I just… I just…’
‘You just made up your mind,’ Seymour said, with a hint of a smile breaking through his obvious shock. ‘And now, we need to move.’
Chapter 27
‘We need to go,’ Seymour repeated as he bent down to the dead orderly and relieved him of his set of keys. The one he had stolen earlier was on its own, whereas this appeared to be a full set, all attached to a black metal loop. One in particular stood out as being longer and chunkier than the others.
He got back to his feet and saw that Adrian looked like he was teetering on the edge, ready to lose it, but Seymour didn’t want that to happen. He needed Adrian with him, as the man had proven he could be an asset—the body of the orderly with the yawning throat confirmed that—but Seymour also knew that the more people he had with him, the more potential there was for others to take the fall should something go wrong.
And considering what Adrian had done to one of the guards already, it wouldn’t take much to divert all blame his way.
Seymour also knew he couldn’t give Adrian—who was now just staring at his bloodied hands—the chance to dwell on what he had done, so grabbed the younger man by the arm. ‘Move,’ he commanded and heaved Adrian up. Thankfully, the confused man complied.
‘I… I… I just…’ he stammered, but Seymour didn’t want to listen to it.
‘It’s done,’ Seymour said, ‘no going back now.’
He didn’t wait for an answer, and instead pulled Adrian from the room, ushering Sean out ahead as well. Only when they were in the hallway did he realise it would have been wise to check to make sure no one else was around first. The oversight annoyed him, and he knew he would have to be more careful. This time, they had gotten lucky.
‘Sean,’ he hissed, ‘go and check up ahead, make sure no one else is around.’
‘Me?’ Sean asked, looking genuinely shocked. Seymour felt a pang
of anger bubble in his gut. Sean was a liability, a pathetic soul who drifted along with no drive and no initiative of his own. Seymour didn’t know if it was the drugs that made him this way, turning his mind to mush, or if it was his natural personality, but he didn’t care.
He wouldn’t let anyone stop him from getting out of here.
He kicked Sean in the back and sent the thin man sprawling to the floor. ‘Just fucking go,’ he said, pointing up ahead into the darkness of the corridor.
At first, Sean looked like he was going to protest, but he soon saw sense and scuttled ahead, as light-footed as he could.
‘Useless,’ Seymour said under his breath. He then tried to focus on what the next move would be. While this was not a well-thought-out escape attempt by any stretch of the imagination—the opportunity itself having come about by pure chance—he still knew that some form of plan would be needed.
The first step was easy—they had to head forward to the ward entrance in the Main Hall, which was in the opposite direction from the Communal Area. Sean was up ahead already, and peeked around the corner before turning back and giving a thumbs up.
All was clear.
Seymour set off, pulling Adrian behind him. Seymour hoped one of the keys they were now in possession of would unlock the door from Ward B and bring them out into the central area of the facility.
Seymour had no idea how many orderlies or other staff would be present at this time of night, so they would need to tread carefully and, if at all possible, stick to the shadows.
He caught up to Sean and looked around the corner as well, seeing a thick metal door at the end of the corridor. This was the exit from the ward.
There were no vision panels or viewing hatches, so they would have no idea if someone was on the other side until they opened it.
If they could open it.
As he set off towards the door, Seymour noticed his heart-rate rise; the nerves and adrenaline that were already present after watching Adrian work now ramped up further. He clenched his fists and felt sweat on his palms and prayed the way ahead was clear.
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