Shadows Rise

by Denise A. Agnew

  He shifted, impatient. He was still pissed about that. He didn’t like the fogginess the drug produced in him. He wished now he’d refused to start back on it. “I haven’t seen any ghosts. I didn’t see any when I first came here, even before I got back on the laudanum.”

  Real fear filled the woman’s eyes.

  “Wait. You know more than you’re saying.” He gestured. “You know this place is wrong. Just wrong.”

  She tilted her nose up slightly. “Tranquil View Asylum has a great superintendent and all the doctors here are exemplary. The nurses are some of the finest I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

  “I’m not disparaging the staff or the things you do here. I’m grateful to be here.” He heard himself say the word grateful and knew he lied. He also shouldn’t have promised Ziggy that he wouldn’t say what happened in the basement. Cade decided he had no choice if he wanted to understand more about the asylum and he told her. “Tell me that isn’t the strangest thing you’ve heard.”

  She frowned. “Not the strangest thing by a long margin. Have you told Dr. Prever about your experience in the basement?”

  “He would think I was loonier than a fruitcake.”

  “Most likely.”

  “But it wasn’t just me who saw things literally swallowed by the dark. Ziggy saw it, too. And it took over his mind to the point he couldn’t remember what had happened.” Several people passed through the rotunda. Cade continued, his voice low. “I have a feeling about you, Nurse Summit. You’re a good woman and very kind. Stern sometimes, but never out of malice. I’ve seen how you interact with the men and staff. You’re respectful. Not everyone here is like that. I appreciate it and think it’s admirable. That’s why I wish to hell you’d tell me what you really know about this place. Or is that you don’t want to admit it to yourself that a strange situation is happening here?”

  Her face tightened. “No one, especially a nurse, should believe in ghosts. It’s irrational and has no basis in fact whatsoever.”

  “Is fact all you live for?”

  “Most definitely.” She clasped her hands primly.

  He could see he wouldn’t obtain more information from her, at least not now. He nodded politely. “Very well. I’ll bid you a good day, Nurse Summit.”

  As he left and headed toward the game room, he made a decision. He would take his mind off the strange happenings in the asylum for the moment by borrowing a book and pretending this place, and his situation didn’t exist.

  * * *

  Annabelle’s footsteps clicked lightly as she descended the stairs. She’d made it to the bottom when a shriek came from one of the wards. Startled into immobility, she hesitated. At first she couldn’t tell if it was toward the farthest portion away from the rotunda or nearer. Again another scream echoed. The hair on her arms stood up. A man’s scream, filled with the most incredible horror. Whoever cried out saw hell itself. Jolted out of shock, she ran down ward one toward the sound. She didn’t dare imagine what had caused the cry.

  Penelope and three other nurses struggled with one man who twitched and groaned on the floor. Was it an epileptic fit? None of the other soldiers helped as the man writhed. Their eyes reflected an internal agony of indecision and disbelief. A tormented cry left the man. “Let me go! The devil is in me. Let me die. Let me die!”

  Several men from the kitchen and dining area came out to see what had happened. A tall figure appeared from the game room and stalked their way. Cade. Relief filled her even if it shouldn’t have. Like it or not, he would know what to do with this soldier. She knew that in her gut.

  Cade rasped a curse. “It’s MacRay. What’s wrong with him?”

  Penelope grunted as the man swung and missed her face by inches. “He just fell on the floor and started twitching like this.”

  “Get some men in here who can help.” Cade commanded everyone with his stern voice, his face a mask of authority. He glanced at Annabelle, his eyes filled with fire. “Now!”

  Before Annabelle could rush for assistance, male staff members trotted down the hall to take care of the situation. Prever was in the lead with his medical bag. “What is happening here?”

  Again the nurses explained and Cade assisted with holding the writhing man in place while Prever injected MacRay with a calming drug. Still the man gurgled and shrieked, his voice harsh as he implored someone—anyone—for help. Annabelle had seen and heard a lot of lunacy since she’d been here, but never to this degree.

  “Schizophrenia or psychosis perhaps,” Prever said as the man started to calm down. “I was worried about this with him.” Annabelle frowned at the doctor, surprised this information had been revealed. She knew Prever usually kept patient situations confidential. Dr. Prever ordered MacRay taken to his room and restrained.

  “You’ll leave someone with him,” Cade said, “to make sure he’s all right.”

  Prever looked affronted. “Of course.”

  Annabelle half expected Cade to follow as three men carried off the now limp MacRay while Prever followed. Cade planted his hands on his hips and watched the soldier carried away. Compelled by the concern in his eyes, she approached him. He didn’t seem to notice her as she stood next to him. “He’ll be fine. Dr. Prever will take care of him.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Dr. Prever? Of course. He’s studied abroad at many of the asylums there as well as in the United States. He has extensive understanding of what these soldiers go through.”

  “Does he?” Cade’s gaze snapped to hers, and anger blazed from him. “Has he been in war?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Then how can he know? How can anyone understand it if they haven’t been in the trenches, drenched in the blood and mud?”

  She inhaled slowly to control her own reaction. She wanted to lash back. Before she could reply, he stalked off. She hesitated, then rushed after him, conscious of several nurses and soldiers watching them. She caught up with his long stride as he left the rotunda and went outside. Snowflakes had drifted lightly across the day, but temperatures hadn’t lowered enough to ensure ground cover. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and glanced around, his hands once again on his hips. His mouth slashed across his face in a tight line. He hung his head and groaned with evident frustration, then rubbed his forehead as if he might have a headache. She remained silent, compelled to say something, but unable to form a single coherent sentence.

  When he opened his eyes the perturbation hadn’t left. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “About what? There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  She folded her hands. “Even though I’ve seen what war can do to a man physically and mentally, I still don’t know what you went through. It was presumptuous.”

  He drew in a deep breath and turned his full attention on her. “You were only trying to help.”

  Gratified and surprised by his understanding, she ventured more. “Watching Pepper and MacRay go through things must be difficult.”

  “It’s not just Pepper and MacRay.”

  “Of course not. There are many men here who need help.”

  His hands hung at his sides now, but his stance stayed alert. “That’s not what I mean. I found Ziggy down in the basement last night.”

  She moved closer, looking around to see if anyone else could hear. No one was around. “What on earth were you doing in the basement?”

  “I wasn’t breaking any rules. I have permission from Prever to go wherever I please.”

  “The superintendent asked us to keep the door to the basement unlocked in case we need to go downstairs for supplies. So no, you weren’t breaking any rules.”

  “I was damned amazed he’s given me free run.”

  Half amused, she glanced into the distance where treetops swayed gently. It was cold out here, but near this man she couldn’t feel it. “Perhaps he knew you’d venture where you wanted anyway.”

  “Maybe. Was the basemen
t used for patients?”

  “I understand that Masterson Healy, the superintendent who first ran the asylum starting in 1888, used the cells for the most violent patients. By 1908 he’d stopped using them. Supposedly.”

  “Supposedly.”

  She shrugged. “Rumors. I doubt if half of them are true.”

  “What types of rumors?”

  She hadn’t wanted to get into this, but she knew he’d keep prying until she talked. “The Healy family has a history going back at least a hundred years ... a history with their own insanity. From what I heard, Masterson Healy’s mother had problems with mental health, as did some uncles and a few cousins. It went back several generations. Masterson wasn’t insane, but he helped his insane daughter Patricia Healy by burying women that she’d killed.”

  “God.” He blew out a breath.

  Shivers crawled over her skin as she continued the story. “Patricia went insane over a ten year period. Over that time she killed thirteen companions. At least that’s the story I heard.”

  “And you believe it’s true.” He moved closer, and his warmth touched her though he didn’t lay a hand on her. “Who could verify the story?”

  “Probably Head Nurse Summit. She was here ten years ago.”

  He shook his head. “I asked her first. She didn’t tell me much. Doesn’t believe in ghosts or things that creep and crawl.”

  She laughed softly. “Of course not. I don’t either.” Liar. She’d been wondering more and more why this place unnerved her so badly.

  “Thanks for the background but I doubt it has anything to do with what happened to me and Ziggy last night.”

  “What happened to you last night?” she asked.

  He seemed to struggle, on the verge of telling her. He finally shook his head. “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand. You’d just think I was more insane.”

  “Dr. Prever said you’re back on the laudanum.” Personally she didn’t believe Cade should be on it again, but what choice did he have if he still saw or felt ghosts? Perhaps war had unhinged him forever. “He told the nurses we’d rotate giving the drug to you.”

  His gaze tangled with hers, and a flare of heat speared her belly as his attention devoured her. In a flash his gaze took her in, assessed her so thoroughly she felt touched, naked, and vulnerable. It shook Annabelle the way a man’s appraisal never had before. Feeling like this with him was wrong on too many levels to count. One, Velia stood between them. Two, his mental state was in question. Three, it was against the asylum rules.

  “I’d think they’d leave you out of that duty,” he said.

  “Apparently they think it’s safe enough for me to be near you.”

  His mouth turned into a tight line. “Maybe I don’t want you near me.”

  His words cut deep, and she hated that. She didn’t want to care what he thought of her. It ate away at her that he didn’t trust her, though it really shouldn’t have. Why was it important that he talk with her and like her? He still believed she was responsible for Velia’s death. She rubbed her arms, chilled. “All right. I’ll bid you good day, then.”

  “Wait. I ... that was rude. Hell, if I’m going to be in this place a while, I have to get along with people. Even if ...” He closed his eyes a moment.

  “Even if you hate them?” Her voice came out hoarse but soft.

  When his eyes opened again, the heat returned, and it felt it like a warm wave that enveloped her body. He didn’t answer her question but said, “I need some coffee.”

  He returned inside and she followed him as he took off toward the dining area. When they encountered the cook in the empty dining hall, the woman assented to giving them some coffee. They took their black coffee-filled cups and saucers and sat on benches opposite each other at a long table. For a long time they sipped the hot liquid without talking or making eye contact. Eventually he caught her gaze and held it. Questions burned there.

  “I thought you were worried people would talk about us,” he said.

  “I didn’t want people to misunderstand our relationship. That doesn’t mean I can’t talk with you. I’m expected to talk with patients. Now what happened to you and Ziggy in the basement?”

  He explained how he’d discovered Ziggy in the corner in darkness so profound he'd barely been able to see the soldier. Cade’s account of the event made no sense.

  “The darkness intimidated you. Made you feel insecure. After everything you and Ziggy have been through in war, it’s understandable. That doesn’t mean anything supernatural occurred.”

  “I knew you’d give me a rational explanation.” He sipped his coffee. “But it isn’t good enough.”

  Exasperated, she kept her tone mild. “Even if I had seen such a thing, I know there would be a rational explanation. Everything in life can be explained by science.”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “Up to a point I believe that but—” He shrugged. “Never mind. I knew there was no use in talking to you about this.

  Cade sounded irritated and she decided it would be better soothe the beast. No, she wasn't afraid of his displeasure. In an asylum someone was always displeased. She didn't want to feel like she hadn't done her job.

  "You are used to people agreeing with you," she said.

  He turned the coffee cup completely around in both hands until he clasped the handle with his left. She'd never noticed he was left-handed before.

  "Yeah I am used to it. I'm an officer."

  "It's an aura you have. People tend to obey and ask questions later. I saw how you handled people a few minutes ago. The nurses and even other men did what you wanted."

  He smirked. "Didn't work on you, did it?"

  "I'm very aware of people like you."

  "The way you say people sounds very grim."

  "My uncle has that presence about him. Unfortunately he also uses it to other people's disadvantage. Namely his wife."

  Cade pushed his coffee cup aside. "That's what you think I do?"

  "You have more kindness in you than my uncle."

  He made a soft, deep sound. "Me? I’m a bastard.”

  She smiled at his self-deprecation. “Few officers realize when they are. So give yourself a pat on the back.”

  “Glad you agree with the bastard part.”

  “I think you can be a little pushy. Hard-nosed. Demanding. But I think you have humanity. You aren’t a bad person.”

  His gaze caught hers again. She half expected him to tell her she wasn’t a bad person either, but he didn’t. “Do I intimidate you?" he asked.

  “Do you want to?”

  “I burned to intimidate you from the minute I learned how Velia died.”

  She sighed as regret and disappointment rose up. “Then you’ve accomplished your mission.”

  His gaze took hold of her again and the look he gave her was filled with a grave worry that seemed out of sorts with everything she thought she knew about this man.

  “What’s happening in this place?” he asked.

  “People’s lives have been torn asunder by war. We’re in this asylum to remedy that, or to take comfort together.”

  “Was your life torn asunder?”

  She sipped her coffee, which was still too hot. She blew on the liquid, and when she looked up she caught Cade watching her mouth. A telltale swirl of heat made its rounds low in her stomach. She couldn’t avoid the sensation whenever he was near. What else could she say? “Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  An upwelling of emotion punched her hard. “No.”

  “If not now, when?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I want to understand you.”

  Now that was something. Really something. “A man has never wanted to know me.”

  His brows knitted together. “Are you sure you weren’t so intent on pushing them away they never got the chance?”

  Anger surged up along with frustration at his relentless campaign to ferret out her secrets. “What does it matter to you?” She
lowered her voice, half sure someone would overhear them. “As soon as you’re well you’ll leave here. And I killed Velia, remember. You should want me to suffer.”

  “Maybe I’ll stay in here with you, where it’s safe.” He smiled and rolled his gaze to the ceiling. “Then again, maybe I should take you away with me when I leave. It’s hard to say if this place is safe anymore.”

  She made a scoffing noise. “Ridiculous, Captain. This is as safe an environment as any. Out there the world is still rocked by war and disease. In here ... in here all we have is our insanity.”

  “Our insanity? Do you share it with us?”

  Damn it. Damn him. He’d come too close again, digging deeper with each tiny word until she feared he would know it all—know every inch of her that she’d tried to disguise for so long.

  She stood slowly. “You didn’t tell me anything about your nightmares, Captain, so I can’t share my insanity with you.” She didn’t give him time to retort. She took her coffee cup and left him sitting alone.

  She heard his voice calling after her, “I don’t think you’d share your insanity even if I told you my darkest dream.”

  Annabelle quickened her steps.

  * * *

  That night Annabelle dreamed. She stared into blackness. Not the absence of light, not darkness, but the pit of a cold hell. Her breath seized as she took a step forward. She couldn't tell if the door yawned open; blackness swallowed everything in its jaws. She couldn't breath knowing if she took one more step forward, the basement would claim her and never let her go.

  Bolting upright, Annabelle sucked in labored breaths. She couldn't see a thing except for a thin strip of light under her door. She listened, waiting. She felt that someone lurked outside. How she knew she could be certain. She threw back the covers and turned on her lamp. She inhaled slowly and deeply. Annabelle slipped her feet into her slippers and left the bed. Unlocking the door came easy, but opening it was harder. She threw it open to confront whomever—whatever—lurked outside.

  Cade leaned against the far wall. He peered at her, his eyes haunted by darkness and curiosity. Her breath caught. She stepped out far enough to glance down the hallway. No one but him occupied the area. Two lights at either end of the corridor assured shadows would be revealed as humans and not horrors. Yet the dimness added to their mystery rather than banished them. His dark gaze traveled over her, and missed nothing in between. She felt that searing attention all the way to her toes. Annabelle realized she hadn't put on a robe. He wore his day clothes.