The Institution

by Kristen Rose

  *

  It is 10:45 P.M. when O’Connell and his men arrive at the hospital.

  Their dark rental van drives quietly down the winding bitumen driveway, coming to a slow stop in the employee car park towards the left of the main entrance. One by one they slither out of the van, silent. Once out, O’Connell takes the lead, directing orders to his men in a husky whisper.

  ‘Young, I want you to go to the visitors’ entrance now and hide in the bushes beside the door.’ He points back in the direction they had come, the bushes barely visible in the dark night, still, Young nods ably. ‘Make sure you’re well hidden, okay?’ Young nods. He double checks that he has his radio and map along with a copy of the security codes before plodding his way into the blackness behind him.

  ‘Okay,’ O’Connell continues once Young’s head can no longer be seen bobbing away, ‘let’s continue to the employees’ entrance.’ The four of them scurry quietly towards their destination some fifty metres from their parked charcoal van. O’Connell’s deep navy eyes scan the rest of the parking lot, searching for another rental car. He sees none but is no more relieved than he had been before arriving. They exit the parking lot and continue down a narrowly lit cement path leading along the front of the hospital and around to the left. They continue down until reaching the end of the path, turning towards a reinforced steel door marked ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’. O’Connell stops abruptly as do the rest of the men and pulls his radio off of his withered belt.

  ‘Jones, this is O’Connell, are you there? Over.’ He whispers into the radio.

  Nothing.

  He glances up at his colleagues, a look of warning on his face. He repeats his transmission.

  Nothing.

  He tries a third and final time. Nothing but the still black night.

  ‘Okay, it looks like Jones won’t be able to help us,’ O’Connell sighs, ‘but, now we know this is for real.’ The others nod; fear in their eyes. ‘Finlay, you stay here. Go behind that tree.’ O’Connell points behind him, away from the door. ‘You should be able to get a good view without being seen. Remember, when you see Verdad, straight after he enters contact us so we can get into position.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.’ He says; his boyish face confident and stern. He nods goodbye, turns and heads to the large tree twenty or so meters south of the door.

  O’Connell turns his attention to the steel door, pulling out his photocopy of the security codes. He scans the sheet housing a long list of numbers – a different code for every door. When he finds the correct code, he places his index finger on the point where the number is printed on the sheet and moves his right hand towards the fluorescent key pad above the door’s thick metal handle. With care he punches in the numbers. Once finished he draws a deep breath before pressing the ‘Enter’ key. The small LED light above the handle, previously a dim red, changes to a bright green. With a sigh of relief, O’Connell pulls down on the handle; it gives way easily, opening in silence. He pushes on the door cautiously; it swings open without sound into a minuscule lit up foyer. Another locked heavy steel door awaits them on the left side of the room.

  The three men shuffle into the tiny entrance, barely able to close the door behind them. O’Connell faces the steel door, preparing himself to punch in another access code. Once the light on the door turns green, he pulls the handle down and enters, leading Rogers and Hudson into a medium sized L-shaped locker room, curving around to the right.

  Two rows of cream metal lockers cover the entire surface of every wall; each with a name printed on the door and a combination lock. The room is half lit with fluorescent light and vacant aside from a few pairs of running shoes littering the floor and some coats splayed across some metal benches in the middle of the room. The men follow the curve of the room until they end up at a small narrow walkway. The walls are covered with coat racks, one fifth of them occupied with thick, heavy parkers. At the end, a heavy metal door identical to the first two awaits them.

  O’Connell pulls a large heavily folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and unravels it, revealing a basic map of the hospital. He studies it.

  ‘This door takes us right into the patient’s part of the hospital.’ He says pointing towards the metal door. ‘Let’s hope there’s no one on the other side.’ He refolds the piece of paper, sliding it into his pant pocket. He then takes off his thick black woollen coat, hanging it on one of the coat racks in the walkway. ‘May as well take advantage of their facilities, we are doing them a slight favour after all.’ He says once his coat is perched neatly on the wall. Rogers and Hudson follow his move and remove their own coats, hanging them up sporadically along the wall. O’Connell pulls his radio off of his belt.

  ‘Okay guys, we’re inside the employee locker room. We’re about to enter into the main section of the hospital where the patients are. Let me know if the situation changes. Over.’

  Hudson and Finlay’s voices shoot through the radio one after the other with affirmations. O’Connell clips his radio back onto his tatty black leather belt and continues towards the steel door. Once again he pulls out his sheet of codes and searches for the one that will open the door.

  ‘Wow, this security is really tight.’ Hudson muses, jittering centre meters away from O’Connell’s shoulder. ‘A different code for every door.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s home to a lot of the country’s biggest psychopaths.’ O’Connell explains.

  ‘Really? What’s your friend doing here then? I know that you said she’s pretending, but she’s not pretending to be a psycho killer or anything, is she?’ A concerned look on his face.

  ‘You don’t have to be a psycho killer to be treated here. It helps of course but I believe the main prerequisite is a wealthy family who is willing to pay for you to stay in a first class facility. They’re supposed to have some of the best doctors in the country working here which is why they have some exceptionally disturbed patients. Courts around Australia order people to be treated here because of their first class facilities.’

  ‘So what, they have a random mix of really hard core crazy people and really rich not so crazy people? How does that work, I mean, they couldn’t all get along could they?’

  ‘They’re all separated.’ O’Connell’s frustration coming forth. ‘See ...’ He pulls his map out of his pocket. ‘There are three different wards here. Different kinds of patients get treated in each ward, the really psycho ones are confined to the top floor, which has the best security available, and they aren’t allowed to leave their rooms at all. What’s with the twenty questions now? You could have asked me all of this during the two hour drive from the airport.’ He mutters, stuffing the map into the side pocket of his jacket for easier accessibility.

  ‘I guess it didn’t occur to me, sorry.’

  ‘Well, we’re kind of in a hurry so maybe you should save any more questions you’ve got for later, okay?’ O’Connell stares at him, his eyes burning.

  ‘Sure, sorry.’ His pale face flashes pink for a short second. O’Connell stares back at the list of codes and cheers when he locates the correct code for the door. He punches the number into the key pad with care. The door opens out into a wide corridor running left to right. O’Connell pulls his map back out of his pocket. The corridor is dimly lit with small lights positioned every few metres along the walls. It is deserted and eerie; the grey carpet appears black in the darkness, the walls a murky blue. O’Connell turns his head towards the left observing a single elevator at the end of the corridor. He then turns to the right where the corridor continues down and around to the left. He glances at the map once more, turning it around in his hands. ‘Okay,’ he says, ‘we have to go right and follow the corridor around to the left and down along the front of the building then around until we get to the end. There should be an elevator awaiting us like this one.’ He points to the left. ‘We have to take it up to the ... third floor. That should take us to Jenny’s ward.’ Hudson and Rogers nod. O’Connell lea
ds the way, heading down the aforementioned path. Ahead of them, two solid steel doors, a motionless surveillance camera on either side, await.

  ‘Those doors lead to the visitor’s foyer.’ O’Connell states as they approach them.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Rogers’ exclaims, overtaking O’Connell and leaning down towards the floor at the base of the steel doors. O’Connell and Hudson shift their gazes to the ground where two guards are lying, one on either side of the door hidden in the darkness. Rogers’ tends to the one on the left while O’Connell hurries over and inspects the one on the right.

  ‘Hello!’ O’Connell projects to his guard in a faint whisper, tapping him on the cheek. The guard shows no response. O’Connell places his index and second finger onto the guard’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

  ‘He’s alive, but his pulse is incredibly faint.’ He states, worried. ‘I wonder what drug they gave these guards and how much they gave them.’ He picks the guards head up and lets it fall back down gently.

  ‘Can we do anything for them?’ Rogers asks, gently rearranging his guards head into a more comfortable position.

  ‘I doubt it. It looks like the only way out is for them to just sleep it off. Besides, even if we could do something it wouldn’t be a good idea.’ O’Connell pulls his hand away from the guard and checks his watch. ‘We better continue on, we want to make sure we’ve got plenty of time to spare.’ He gets up off the floor, Rogers follows. Hudson remains silent, his gaze fixed on the two unconscious guards, a slightly ill look on his face. ‘Come on.’ O’Connell pulls on his jacket arousing Hudson away from his thoughts. They continue, not stopping again until they reach the elevator at the very end of the long corridor. O’Connell presses the ‘up’ button on the wall next to the elevator. A loud ‘ding’ resonates around them instantly. The doors drift open revealing an empty compartment with a vibrant plant in the left corner. The three men step in and turn around to face the doors. O’Connell highlights the number three button with a swift movement and waits, strumming his hands along the sides of his legs while the doors shut gracefully and the elevator ascends. It arrives at their destination within seconds. They exit slowly into a corridor similar to the one they just left.

  O’Connell leads them straight to a sparkling glass door a few metres from the elevator, a keypad glowing on the left above a metal handle.

  ‘Whew.’ Hudson whistles. ‘Yep, tight security.’ He places a hand into one of his pockets.

  ‘In a place like this, you have to be efficient.’ Rogers’ responds.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll say. It’s certainly not the easiest place we’ve ever broken into.’

  ‘No,’ O’Connell joins in, once again pulling out his list of codes, ‘but we’ve still managed to get in.’ He smiles lightly.

  ‘Can you imagine the bad publicity this place will have if news of tonight gets out? They’ll probably have a tough time recovering, seeing as they pride themselves on their security.’ Hudson says, leaning against the wall.

  ‘Yes, but we’re not going to let that happen. If this runs smoothly then there’s no reason for it to make the headlines.’ O’Connell says, entering in the code and opening the glass door leading into the deserted corridor.

  ‘She’s in room three-eighteen. It should be just up here on the right.’ He says, his heart pounding.

  They walk a mere five metres to a door that is resting half open, light shining out of it. Rogers’ gives O’Connell a warned look. O’Connell flicks his head sharply to the left and then to the right, signalling his men to move either side of him. Rogers’ stays on his right side while Hudson walks around the left. O’Connell pulls his gun out and indicates to Rogers and Hudson to do the same. He aims it towards the door, Rogers and Hudson follow suit. Slowly, O’Connell taps the door with his foot, opening it wider, gun ready. The room is empty.

  ‘Where is she?’ Rogers projects lowering his gun. ‘I thought you told her to stay put.’ He stares at O’Connell, confused.

  ‘I did.’ O’Connell grinds his teeth, returning his gun to its holster. He strides over to the closet on the right and slides the door open, pushing around a large collection of white garments and colourful shoes, searching.

  ‘Do you think he’s already got her?’ Hudson asks walking up to him. Rogers is looking underneath the small tidy bed.

  ‘No. He would’ve killed her right here and then left, he wouldn’t have taken her away. Besides, there’s no sign of a struggle.’ O’Connell turns and marches over to the desk. Sitting isolated in the centre of it, splayed wide open is a note book; a blue pen resting in the spine. His eyes fill with recognition.

  ‘This is Jennifer’s hand writing.’ He states, picking up the book and beginning to read. ‘Guys, this is interesting.’ He waves them over to him.

  ‘What?’ Rogers and Hudson ask in unison when they reach the desk.

  ‘This book ...’ He flips back a few pages. ‘Jennifer’s written everything that’s happened to her in it. It looks like she hadn’t finished writing the last bit, like she stopped abruptly … which I bet means she only just left.’ His eyes excited.

  ‘But the elevator we took was waiting on the first floor and we didn’t cross paths with her.’ Rogers says.

  ‘There are two other elevators at the other end of this corridor, she must have gone that way.’

  ‘Should we go and see?’ Hudson asks, leaning back towards the door.

  ‘No. Verdad obviously hasn’t come yet, and it doesn’t matter whether or not Jennifer is here, this is still the perfect opportunity.

  ‘I’ll go and find Jennifer, you two stay here, set up a trap.’ O’Connell orders, looking around the room.

  ‘A trap?’

  ‘Yeah. One of you hop in the bed, pretend to be Jennifer and the other hide in the closet. Turn the lights out and shut the door so Verdad thinks Jennifer is in here asleep. Have your guns ready, when he comes in be prepared, he may not even check to see if Jennifer is really in here, he might just shoot – assuming he has a gun that is. Act quickly and do whatever you can to catch him without getting hurt.’ He cautions.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ve got this.’ Rogers’ says comforting O’Connell with a slap on the shoulder.

  ‘Good, I have faith in you guys.’ He stares at them giving a silent nod goodbye and exits the room quickly. He continues down the corridor at a hurried pace, turning as it shifts towards the right. When he reaches the glass security door he yanks the sheet of codes out and fumbles around with it, finding it difficult to locate the correct number. His heart beating faster as midnight creeps closer. With a huge sigh he locates the code, unlocks the door and flies through it, ignoring the motionless guard lying on the floor. He stares at the two elevators on his left, glancing up at the LED screens revealing the floor numbers that each elevator is currently located on. He observes one elevator on the first floor, the other on the second. O’Connell presses the ‘down’ button. The elevator on the second floor starts moving and arrives quickly. O’Connell scoops himself in between the doors before they are barely open, jams his finger onto the number ‘two’ button. The doors creep shut, sealing quietly. O’Connell, impatient and worried, recommences strumming his fingers rapidly on the sides of his legs. The trip to the second floor is short and when the elevator arrives he steps out into the dark corridor, pulling out his gun at the same time.

  #25 Escape