The Fringe Dwellers

by Patrick K. Ball

  “You’re the one Kane told me about,” Hulk said as his body unconsciously relaxed out of its defensive posture.

  “That’s right. Do you know why I’m here?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m here to help you, Hulk. That’s what I was put here to do, help people.”

  “Help people, yesss.”

  “But before I can help you, I need for you to tell me something. Is that okay, Hulk?”

  “Tell you, yesss.”

  “That’s good, Hulk, just let the answers flow. Just let it flow. Now, tell me, Hulk. What scares you? WHAT SCARES YOU?!”

  On the other side of town, at Torrie’s house, Ed woke up screaming from his nightmare. Ed looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand next to Torrie’s bed. It was three sixteen.

  “I didn’t have no scotch whiskey, but I got us some pretty good bourbon whiskey,” Kane announced when he returned to the location where he’d left Hulk. “I’m sure you won’t mind though.”

  Hulk didn’t answer. Kane turned his head from side to side searching for Hulk, but he didn’t seem to be around.

  “Hulk?” Kane said nervously, hoping that the big man had only gone off a short distance to take a leak.

  Still no answer.

  “Quit fuckin’ around, Hulk. I ain’t in the mood for this shit,” Kane said a little louder with as much false bravado as he could muster.

  Kane still didn’t hear an answer, but he thought he heard leaves crunching fairly close to where he was standing. It sounded like footsteps.

  “Hulk, if you’re out there, speak up, now!” Kane yelled in the direction of the crunching leaves.

  No answer.

  “Hulk!” Kane yelled one last time, but still got no reply.

  The crunching continued closing in on Kane. If it was Hulk, there was no way he could’ve failed to hear Kane, and Kane wasn’t going to take any chances alone in the woods. Kane dropped the whiskey bottle and bolted into the woods in the opposite direction from the sound of the footsteps. Kane prayed he hadn’t waited too long, but had a bad feeling he was done for, especially when he continued to hear the sound of something crashing through the woods behind him.

  The only thing he could do was keep moving as fast as he could towards his destination, the Vagrant-ville Community Center. There would be people there. His people. He’d be safe. But the week of being imprisoned at Ivory Rock left him winded; he wasn’t in shape for a chase through the woods. He was breathing much too hard. If he didn’t rest soon, he’d either pass out or have a heart attack. Kane finally gave in to his body and stopped running so he could catch his breath. He leaned against a tree for support, doubled over and breathing heavily. Then, he heard a voice.

  “Hello, Kane.”

  At the sound of the voice, Kane stopped breathing entirely.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ed never got back to sleep after the nightmare woke him up. He must not have screamed too loud because Torrie barely moved. She was back asleep within seconds. At first, Ed rolled over and tried to get back to sleep too. Then he remembered the conversation with Torrie and Undertaker earlier in the day. That made sleep impossible. Ed was even more disturbed than usual knowing there was a good possibility that Uncle Kane’s creature had struck again.

  After Ed resigned himself to the reality of being awake for the rest of the night, he got out of bed and walked downstairs to watch some television. Archie didn’t follow him tonight, but she did roll over and groan when he got out of bed.

  Ed surfed through the channels aimlessly, finally landing on a documentary discussing the Three Gorges Dam Project in China and its effects on the cultural heritage of the Chinese people. He had a hard time concentrating on the narrator. His mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Torrie and Undertaker. They never reached a consensus regarding how to proceed with their investigation of the bodies.

  Undertaker wanted to concentrate on the police involvement angle, probably because that was the area he was most familiar with, having spent years as the Chief Medical Examiner in Chicago. Torrie wanted to concentrate on the angle most closely associated with her area of specialty, the Austin/Trish/clinic angle. Ed wanted to concentrate on the paranormal creature angle because that would make the most interesting story and sell the most newspapers—his type of paper anyway. Unfortunately, Ed had no idea of how to begin a search for an X-creature.

  Instead, Ed decided to go with Torrie’s angle, mainly because it seemed like the path of least resistance. If he tried interviewing members of the Edge Key Police Department, he’d most likely meet with stiff resistance. On the other hand, it would be natural for him to interview Dr. Austin on the premise of seeking information about Uncle Kane. Ed was a trained journalist and had interviewed thousands of people during his career. It was his job to pry information out of people without their knowledge of his true intent.

  Torrie’s angle also had another bonus, it was the safest route. Searching for a creature that feeds on the life-force of people would be extremely dangerous, assuming such a creature existed. Likewise, poking your nose into the dirty laundry of the police could be troublesome at best. Dirty cops could make your life a living hell—Undertaker was already threatened in this manner—and if so inclined, they could make you disappear without a trace, no questions asked.

  “Then it’s settled,” Ed said to the television right before Archie jumped up on the couch next to him. He didn’t hear her come down the stairs.

  “What’s settled?” Torrie said as she walked down the stairs, yawning and stretching.

  Ed hadn’t heard Torrie coming down the stairs either and the documentary he was watching earlier had magically changed into an infomercial about the latest device “guaranteed to melt the pounds away!” He didn’t realize how deep in thought he’d been, or for how long.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” Ed said to Torrie as he scratched Archie behind the ears. “I was just thinking out loud. What time is it?”

  “It’s around six. How long have you been up?”

  “Since three sixteen.”

  Torrie froze in mid-stretch. “Three sixteen? Oh shit, you had another nightmare.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Turn on the news. If there’s another body discovery . . .” Torrie trailed off, not wanting to finish saying what she was thinking. It was too disturbing a thought.

  They kept the news on for the next couple hours while Torrie fixed breakfast. There was no mention of a dead body being discovered on Edge Key, but that didn’t mean much. It was certainly possible that a body had been discovered without making the news. They continued watching the news while they were eating breakfast until they were interrupted by a phone call.

  “Yes he is,” Torrie said into the receiver after answering the phone. “It’s for you,” she said and handed the phone to Ed.

  “Ed Nanreit,” he said into the phone.

  Torrie listened to Ed’s side of the conversation and tried to figure out what was going on, which was virtually impossible when all he said was: “Oh my God.”; “Are you sure?”; “Do you know when?”; “When was that?”; “Okay.”; “Uh-huh.”; and “I’ll be right over.”.

  “What’s going on?” Torrie asked as soon as Ed hung up the phone. The suspense was killing her.

  “Uncle Kane escaped from the clinic last night.”

  “Oh my God. Are they sure he escaped? Maybe he’s still somewhere in the hospital hiding.”

  “They’re sure. They searched the entire building.”

  “Do they know when he got out?”

  “Somewhere between seven o’clock last night and seven this morning. Look, Torrie, I just went through all these questions with them. I want to get over there ASAP. Will you come with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  CHAPTER 27

  “Doctors are men who prescribe medicines of which they know little, to cure diseases of which they know less, in human beings of whom they know nothing.”

  —Voltairer />
  Torrie and Ed were dressed and out the door ten minutes later. Ed was surprised to see Dr. Austin waiting outside for them when they got to Ivory Rock.

  “Ed, hi,” Dr. Austin said, sounding concerned, as he walked up and shook Ed’s hand. He barely acknowledged Torrie other than a polite nod in her direction. “I just heard what happened to Kane. The hospital called me and I came right over. I can’t tell you how sorry the hospital is about this. We’ve never had a patient walk out on us like this.” Ed wondered if he’d forgotten about Tazz’s escape from the clinic or whether he was blatantly lying. Ed also wondered why he seemed so concerned about Uncle Kane all of a sudden, especially since Dr. Austin was considering releasing Uncle Kane only yesterday. “Has he contacted you?”

  “No, that’s why we’re here,” Ed said. “I asked Torrie to come along to help cut through some of the red tape and, maybe, get me some answers. I’m glad you’re here though. You mentioned possibly releasing Uncle Kane yesterday. Did you talk to him about it?”

  “Yes I did, late yesterday afternoon,” Dr. Austin said. “I told him that I couldn’t find anything wrong with him, so I saw no immediate need to keep him any longer as long as he felt ready to go. Then I asked him whether he felt like he was ready to go.”

  “What’d he say?” Ed asked.

  “It was odd. Kane complained all week about not being allowed to leave, but when I basically handed him the keys to go, he told me he’d feel better if he could stay the weekend. He didn’t tell me why and I didn’t ask. That’s why I was concerned when I heard he left.”

  “Don’t you mean escaped?” Ed said.

  “Why don’t we go inside . . . to my office. We can talk there,” Dr. Austin said.

  Ed felt like he was avoiding the question—he was definitely acting nervously—but Ed didn’t press the issue at this point and followed Dr. Austin into the clinic. Ed knew from experience that it was usually better to let the little things build up in a guilty mind because eventually the subject would burst, usually spilling his guts in the process.

  As soon as they were in Dr. Austin’s office, Ed began the interrogation he practiced in his mind early in the morning. “Doctor, I’d like you to give me some background on Uncle Kane’s condition, but please, keep it simple, layman’s terms only. I’ve known since I was a little kid that Uncle Kane was being treated for some type of psychiatric problem, before I even knew exactly what that meant, but I’ve never really known precisely what he was being treated for. Maybe that’ll shed some light on the reason he took off.”

  Dr. Austin thought about it for a few seconds before he said anything, then said, “I guess the best way I can describe his condition is that Kane’s brain is wired differently than most people’s. He’s extremely intelligent despite a lack of formal education, but he doesn’t, um, how can I put this.” He paused briefly. “Kane just doesn’t fit into what we’d call, ‘normal society’.”

  “Is there any particular reason?” Ed asked and looked to Torrie for help.

  “He wasn’t my patient,” Torrie said. “I’m not familiar with the particulars of his case.”

  “It has something to do with the difference between the way his brain functions and the way the majority of the population’s brain functions,” Dr. Austin continued. “I guess you could say he receives too much stimuli when exposed to common social situations; his mind gets overloaded.”

  “Like autism?” Ed asked.

  “It’s similar to autism in some ways, but completely different in other ways,” Dr. Austin answered. “His condition is much rarer and even less understood. Let me see if I can explain.

  “When Kane is exposed to too many people, his brain, um, sort of makes a connection to others which causes him to receive more information than most people. He’s somehow able to tap into and use an area of the brain to process information where most people’s brains will bypass this area of the brain when they’re processing information.” Dr. Austin paused and looked at Ed, whose brow was scrunched together. “Looking at your expression, it doesn’t seem like you’re following. But it’s not really that important. The bottom line is that on most occasions when Kane is around people, it’s uncomfortable for him.”

  “Have you worked with others who have the same condition as Uncle Kane?” Ed asked.

  “Only one,” Dr. Austin said as he looked away from Ed and stared off into the distance.

  “Can you tell me anything about that other patient?” Ed asked. “It might help me understand Uncle Kane a little bit better.”

  “It was a long time ago,” Dr. Austin said, barely above a whisper. He was still staring off into the distance and his hand was stroking his chin.

  “Was that back in the days when Nurse Trish and you were running the clinic?” Ed asked.

  Dr. Austin’s head snapped back and he met Ed’s eyes. For a moment, Ed thought he saw rage in them. “That was something different altogether.”

  “So, this other person had nothing to do with the experiments you were performing back then?” Ed asked.

  Dr. Austin glared at Ed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Would you like to explain what you think you know?”

  “Just something I heard, probably just a rumor,” Ed said. “It’s not important. Let’s get back to the other person you treated with the same condition as Uncle Kane. You were telling me about him.”

  Ed’s instincts were correct. When you let a person get away without a proper explanation of the questions they’re being asked, a person will eventually blow. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Dr. Austin who couldn’t take the pressure any more. It was Torrie who blew. She just couldn’t stand the cat and mouse game Ed and Dr. Austin were playing any longer.

  “Let’s cut through this bullshit!” Torrie said. Ed’s head slumped forward. He felt like he’d lost the advantage. Dr. Austin’s gaze switched from Ed to Torrie, and he looked shocked. “You both know what’s going on, and you both know that the other knows it. Steve . . . Um, Dr. Austin . . . We know Trish and you were up to something at this clinic back in the sixties that wasn’t quite kosher. You two were performing some type of psychological experiments on the patients that may or may not have been completely ethical and it almost cost you your license, if not your freedom. You’ve been carrying this around for too long. It’s time to come clean.”

  It was Dr. Austin’s turn to slump his head forward, which he caught in his hand. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it is time to come clean . . . clear the air once and for all . . . stop all these rumors and innuendos.” Dr. Austin paused, thinking. “Wow, I don’t know where to start.”

  “You obviously weren’t disciplined by the Board of Medicine for anything that happened, therefore, you’ve got nothing to fear by simply explaining what you were working on,” Ed said softly.

  “It’s nothing bad, not like you seem to be implying,” Dr. Austin said. “That’s why the Board of Medicine dropped the investigation and sealed all the records related to the investigation. I did nothing wrong. I want to make that point crystal clear. Understand?”

  “Uh-huh,” Ed said. Torrie shook her head and mumbled something indicating an affirmative response.

  “I also need to be careful about what I reveal,” Dr. Austin said. “Patient confidentiality is at stake, so I’ll limit my explanation to a general overview of what we were trying to accomplish. Okay?”

  “Fine with me,” Torrie said.

  “Go on, Doctor,” Ed said, purposefully limiting his response so he neither agreed nor disagreed with Dr. Austin’s covenant.

  “Trish and I set up the clinic in the early sixties as a research facility,” Dr. Austin explained. “Our primary focus was phobias. We were researching new therapies.”

  “Why phobias?” Ed asked.

  Dr. Austin hesitated before answering, only briefly, but long enough for Ed to notice and take note. “We were given a research grant of sorts, and the money was specifically ear-marked for phobia research. It was a take it or leav
e it offer.”

  “As are most grants, it seems,” Torrie agreed.

  “Anyway, not only was the area of study important, with the potential to help cure a large number of people, the money was simply too good to turn down,” Dr. Austin said.

  “How much are we talking?” Ed asked.

  “An almost unlimited amount of funds, and very little oversight,” Dr. Austin said. “The grant’s benefactors were only interested in results; they cared very little about how much money was spent . . . or how the results were obtained.”

  “Who were the benefactors?” Torrie asked.

  “That’s confidential,” Dr. Austin said. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it. It was a condition of the grant. I thought you were interested in my research, not my funding.”

  “I’m sorry,” Torrie said. “I was just curious. I’d like to get a grant like that.”

  Dr. Austin continued. “At that time, systematic desensitization was the primary form of therapy used to treat phobias.”

  “In English, Doc,” Ed said. “Not everyone in the room has had formal training in this field.”

  “Basically, the patient ranks phobia related situations from the situations that cause the patient the most anxiety to the situations that cause the least anxiety. For example, if someone has a phobia about, let’s say injections, being given a shot would rank at the top of the list, watching a nurse load a syringe would be somewhere farther down the list, and so on. Understand so far?”

  “Oh yeah,” Ed said. “I’ve heard of this somewhere. It has something to do with imagery and relaxation techniques to reduce the phobia anxiety level. Right?”

  “Exactly,” Dr. Austin said. “The patient starts by imagining the situation that’s least stressful while performing a type of meditation until the patient’s anxiety level to that situation is eliminated. This exercise is repeated throughout the list until the patient’s phobia is either eliminated or can at least be lived with.