by Kip Nelson
“I knew it,” he said. “I knew I should have posted a guard here. You had the look of a man who was going to poke his nose into things where it doesn't belong.” Ethan nodded to himself and laughed, then began pacing around the room, waving his finger at Mack. Mack tensed his body and primed it for action, but Ethan didn't seem to be interested in a fight, at least not yet. He hadn't called for any help either.
“You shouldn't have done that, Mack. I would have been nice to you. I was nice. I took you in, I offered you a meal and a warm bed and this is how you repay me? With mistrust, sneaking around the floors late at night, going into an office and rummaging around files that aren't for your eyes? I know the world has changed, but does that mean honorable men have to lose what made them so special? And I can tell you're an honorable man, Mack, both of you are. After all, you tried helping that poor, misguided woman, and you did help her, because you brought her back to where she belongs--”
“I brought her back to a trap! I never should have let you take her. Where is she now? I suppose you've got her locked up with all the rest of them, all the rest of those innocent people who don't deserve it. You speak about honor, but you have none, and don't presume to know me,” Mack shouted.
“Oh, but I know you all too well. You're just like them, like the others who all presume they know exactly what's going on, when really they have no idea. You have no idea what happened in this place. I've done nothing to them that they haven't deserved, and you have no right to come in here and judge me for it. You're no one special. You're just a man who made the mistake of helping someone he shouldn't have, and I would have let you be on your way, you know. All you had to do was take part in this play and you could have gone on your merry way, but no, that's not the type of man you are, is it? You have to feel like you have some say in the world, like you have some control. Well, I'm telling you now that this is my world and I'm the only one who has control.” Ethan's fists curled into tight balls and his thin lips were pulled back, showing his white teeth.
“You'd like to think so, wouldn't you? Yes, I helped Miranda, and you're a fool if you think I ever was going to leave here without doing everything I could to help her and everyone else in this place.”
“Help them? Help them from what, from me? Is that what she told you? That I'm some kind of evil man who came into this place, and I've corrupted everything? Believe that if you want, but I have done nothing wrong here, nothing that wasn't already going on before this all happened. I heard them talk about outside, but honestly, that doesn't matter to me. The only thing that matters is what happens in here.”
“Then what is happening? What is your grand plan? Are you just going to keep going forever? Are you going to act out these roles for anyone who comes across this place? It's not possible. Just let everyone go. They're here to help you, to help all the other patients in this place. Don't you care about them? You've acted as Dr. Richardson. Did you get a sense of his compassion, of his love for the place?”
Ethan threw back his head and laughed. “That's a joke. Your esteem of Dr. Richardson is far too high and it's clear you never knew the man. He was a pompous, arrogant fool who thought he was far smarter than he actually was, and he got everything he deserved.”
“And what about anyone else? Are you going to lump them in with him?”
“Are you speaking of your precious Miranda again? It seems you have developed a soft spot for her. She never should have come back here. She got lucky when she escaped, but that will not happen again. Let me tell you a story, Mack,” he said. Ethan paced around again before pulling a chair from the side of the room and slamming it down in the middle of the room.
He sat down and folded one leg over the other as he threw himself into his story, “I'm sure you've noticed how old the building is. When a building becomes this old, legends and myths begin surrounding it, especially when it's used for a purpose such as taking care of the mentally ill. Now, one of the most common rumors is that this institute was built on an ancient burial site and had evil spirits running through the walls.” As he said this, Ethan moved his head around and looked at the walls and ceilings, before his gaze returned to Mack.
“Now, I've never put much stock in things like that. People even have claimed this place is haunted! Not that I can blame them, given the horrors that have gone on here over the years, and all the lost souls who have passed through these doors. I'd hardly claim to be the most rational person around, but even I can see that it's a load of crap. Simply because there is no such thing as good and evil, and that's what the people hear. That’s what you don't understand.”
“Then why don't you enlighten me?” Mack said.
“I'd be more than happy to do so,” Ethan said, leaning forward in his chair. “You see, there is only strength. That's the only thing that matters. Good and evil are nothing. You either do the things you want or you don't. You either fight back or you don't. Anything else is just a distraction of the conscience. They wanted to put me in a neat little box and file me away with all the other disorders, but they couldn't because there's nothing wrong with me and I never should have been here in the first place.”
“Then why not get out? Why didn't you leave when you had the chance and get away from this place? Why are you bothering to put on this show when there's nothing for you here?”
“Because they poked and prodded me and tried to make an example out of me when I'm just a person like them! Just a man!” he said, kicking away his chair, eyes blazing with frustration and anger. “We just wore different clothes and you helped me prove that. You couldn't tell the difference between us. What right do they have to put any of us in here?”
“I'm seeing a clear difference now,” Mack said sharply, and this only served to make Ethan angrier, although he remained outwardly calm rather than exploding.
“And what are you going to do with us now? Are you going to keep us here, make us your patients, even though we don't belong here either? You know you'll be just as bad as them if you do that.” His words seemed to lance through Ethan, and the man standing in the middle of the room visibly winced.
“You made your own fate when you went snooping around. I would have let you go. I would have been generous, but you forced my hand. It's not me who did this to you. It's your own fault. You've already made it clear that you're not going to leave this place without helping the ones who you feel have been so oppressed. So I can't very well let you leave now. No, you shall suffer the same fate as all of them.”
“And what fate is that? To be locked up? I'm not like them, Ethan. I can fight back. I'll escape. I'll find a way out and I'll make you pay for this. You know I will,” Mack said.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to get him to kill you?” Luis interjected.
“I'm not going to kill either of you. That wouldn't serve my purpose. I must educate you, to make you see there is no difference between any of us. I will keep you with the others and you will stay here until you suffer the same fate as them. You will not escape or break out, I can guarantee that.”
“How?” Mack challenged.
“Because the plans for you are the same as the plans for the rest of them. I will keep you here until you lose you minds, until you all finally accept that you belong here. Then truly you will be the patients, and you will see that I have been right all along.” Mack stared at him, dumbfounded.
What he proposed was horrible; stripping away someone's reality like that was disgusting. Now Mack felt even worse that he had handed Miranda over to them, and he was more determined than ever to stop Ethan. The two men were standing in the ward, staring at each other, with Luis sitting on the edge of his bed, almost not daring to move. The tension was palpable, such that just one movement would have been enough to set things off. Ethan was far more dangerous than Mack initially had thought and he was not going to bow down to the man pretending to be a doctor. Perhaps Ethan was right and there weren't such things as good and evil, but Ethan surely came close to the l
atter.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GRACE, Saul, and their new friend moved through the asylum. They were on the bottom floor and had to creep forward slowly, staying close to the walls so they would not be seen. Grace kept looking at Billy, every time relieved to see he still was standing and wasn't cowering on the floor. Billy had told them that, as far as he remembered, the guards were stationed in the stairwells. Since there were not enough of them to keep watch over the entire building, there were some places where there was no fear of being discovered. This floor was such a place because, as Billy told them, the people kept in these rooms all were locked up, so they only needed to be checked on occasionally. Pity filled Grace's heart as she looked inside the rooms and saw the sedated people, and surmised they were the captured doctors. Then she came across Miranda's cell and her heart sank. It meant that, in all likelihood, Mack and Luis were prisoners as well, although there weren't any signs of them in this ward.
“We'll have to go to the upper floors to find people we can trust,” Billy said.
“I'm not going to end up like them,” Saul said, and gripped his weapon tightly. Grace didn't say anything, but she wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiment.
It was very dark but they were afraid of using any lanterns as it would give away their position. So they had to rely on the moonlight, which didn't make things easy. Although their eyes had adjusted, everything still seemed vague and amorphous in the shadowy light, and every step had to be taken carefully in case they made any unexpected noise. Since the only way was up, they entered the stairwell and gradually climbed the stairs in silence, hoping they wouldn't come across anyone. They were thankful that they entered on a lower floor as most of the activity was confined to the higher floors in the building.
As she walked up the stairs Grace could feel the gun prodding against her back. She didn't want to use it unless absolutely necessary. Even then she had her reservations as she was worried about collateral damage. None of the innocent patients in the institute had asked for this, and they hadn't done anything wrong. They were victims of mental illness, and this place was supposed to be a safe space where they could recover and be treated for their disorders. Now it seemed as though they were going to be caught in the crossfire. With each step, Grace seemed to be moving down a darker path, but she didn't see how she could turn away. How could one hold onto humanity in this world when sometimes it was required to step outside your own morality and do what was needed? What cost was her conscience when it would result in freeing the people here? She only could hope the patients who had taken over the hospital would surrender when they saw what they were up against.
It was not exactly a formidable army that they had managed to recruit as they made their way up the levels of the building, but it was much better than the three of them. As they had gone up each flight of stairs they had gone onto every level that did not have a guard stationed at the entrance. Then they had moved quickly through the various rooms and wards to try rallying people to their cause. Grace and Billy had been the most persuasive, while Saul mostly had stayed in the background, scowling. Grace and Billy had implored them that they would remain unsafe if they stood by and did nothing. They told the patients that they owed it to the doctors to help now, after they had given over their lives to helping them. It wasn't easy, as many of the patients weren't fully aware of what was happening, but Billy helped to get through to them. The ones who were cognizant all agreed to go with Grace and help get the institute back for those who should have been in charge.
“Thank you for your help with this,” Grace said to Billy as they were leading a few more recruits back to the stairwell.
“No, thank you. You've reminded me what it is to be a hero. I should have done this a long time ago, but Billy wouldn't let me. You got through to him when even I couldn't, and that's something to be proud of. You're a special person, Grace, and you can be a hero, too, if you let yourself take the role.”
“I don't know about that,” Grace said, trying to play down his praise, but inside she was glowing. “Do you really think we can pull it off?”
“All we can do is try, and hope, but if we fail, then it's better that we tried to make a difference rather than standing by and doing nothing. There's nothing worse than knowing you stood by when you knew you could have done something. I know that all too well. I'm glad I have the chance to make amends here. I'm just worried that Billy is going to return...”
“Try not to think about it. I'm sure it'll be fine and, you know, turning into Billy doesn't have to be as bad a thing as you think. He has the power to overcome his fear, just like we all do,” she said. Grace had to remind herself that Billy was just as much a patient as any of them, as it was easy to forget when she was talking to him.
“Perhaps you're right,” he said.
“And the only reason most of these people are here is because of you. I doubt they would have listened to me on my own.” As she said this, Grace looked around at the motley crew they had assembled.
Mostly she hoped that the sheer force of numbers would be enough to end the hostilities. If they were forced to fight, she was not sure how capable those behind her would be, although she did not tell them that as she didn't want to dishearten them. They had given themselves to this mission after being persuaded and the last thing Grace wanted to do was to deflate their confidence. However, Saul did have his misgivings and was not shy about sharing them with Grace. She knew it was a serious issue when he was bringing up his concerns about the ethics of their plan, but no matter what happened, the patients would be better off having the doctors in charge of the institution. If this is what it took to get them back in control, then Grace was willing to take that step. She would have to deal with the consequences, if any, later on.
She hadn't had a chance to speak to them, and many of them preferred to remain silent anyway, but she had managed to communicate the general idea of the plan. They would go onto the upper floor as a group and take on as many people as they could find to cause general chaos. Then Grace and Saul would seek out Ethan to end it once and for all, and free everyone he had held captive. Billy insisted on taking Ethan on as well, and while Grace initially had agreed, she harbored reservations. She did not want to make it an essential part of the plan as she knew she couldn't rely on Billy.
They were surprised as they made it up the stairwells that they did not come across any other guards, and the longer this went on the more suspicious Grace became. She half-wondered if they had become wise to their presence, but it was too late to change the plan now. Besides, there really was no other option. They had played their hand and now it was time to see it through. Grace's heart was beating rapidly and she found that she had to focus on breathing or else she held it in her lungs, and it started to burn.
This assault had a much different context than the one in Mr. Smith's camp. That had been planned by Mack and was a well-coordinated operation, whereas this was a slapdash attack and none of them knew if they were going to make it out alive. She glanced at Saul, who nodded at her, and she was glad that at least he was there. They had had their differences, but when it came down to it he was a decent man. He easily could have slipped away in the night without a second thought, but he was still there helping them. For all his protests against Mack and the group, he put his life on the line, too, when it mattered.
“Something must have gone wrong,” Saul remarked as they reached the very upper level without having run into anyone.
They paused outside and Grace repeated her thoughts about continuing with the plan, even if there was a chance that Ethan and the other patients were prepared for them. She drew her gun; Saul already had his out. They stood outside the door. Billy was ready and Grace looked at each of the patients in turn.
“This is it. You all are incredibly brave for agreeing to do this, but once we go through that door there's no turning back. If any of you want to leave now we won't judge you, and it's perfectly understandable.” She let her
words hang in the air in case any of them wanted to take the opportunity she was giving them.
None of them budged an inch. She found herself feeling proud that, even though these people would have been written off by the vast majority of society, they had banded together for a greater cause. They still were able to recognize they needed to be proactive because there were people who needed them. It warmed Grace’s heart. However, she did not have too much time to reflect on that feeling as she opened the door and let the scene unfold.
Since Grace and Saul had the guns they stayed back, ready to use them if necessary. Their army swarmed through the door, their bare feet smacking against the checkered floor, their figures moving between the shards of moonlight that came in through the window. The orderlies all were gathered in the middle of the corridor as if for an address. They all turned around in shock to see the patients running toward them with their teeth bared. The initial flurry of violence was to the patients' advantage as they flailed about, making the most of the element of surprise and their superior numbers. From her vantage point, Grace could see Ethan emerging from a ward, looking frustrated.
“No! No! You're ruining my speech! Get after them! Fight back!” he yelled and, unfortunately for Grace and the others, the element of surprise was no longer a factor.
The people Ethan had recruited were some of the most dangerous patients in the institute. To them, violence was a natural thing, and pain was an old friend. They could take being struck, but the patients that Grace had counted on were not used to violence. When they were struck they began to fall away, retreating in fright, and their numbers soon dwindled. The armies were still a blur, though. Grace and Saul still couldn't use their guns to help, even though they could see Ethan's force was gaining ground. They looked over at each other in desperation. Saul merely held his gun up and shrugged.