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The Institution

Page 34

by Kristen Rose

The elevator arrives on the first floor, Foreman throws Jennifer inside. She slams into the back wall, hitting her head. She rolls, half dazed, to the ground. Foreman laughs as he glides into the elevator and presses the button for the third floor. He turns and yanks Jennifer up off of the floor; blood is trickling down her face out of a fresh gash on the left side of her forehead. He grips her arm once more and twists it behind her; her skin slowly begins to change to a deep shade of purple. She cries out, eyes closed, forehead searing with pain. Foreman takes his other hand, still gripping onto his gun, and jams it into her spine.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Jennifer asks again, weakly. ‘What are you getting in return?’

  ‘Shut up!’ He yells at her, all patience gone. The elevator arrives on the third floor quickly and Foreman yanks her out. She doesn’t fight back; walking stiffly instead to where she is being directed. When they reach the glass security door Foreman unlocks it with his security card and pushes her through. This time the corridor is empty.

  ‘You know, the other patients are bound to hear, they’ll come out. They’ll all be witnesses to your crime.’ The words come slightly detached out of Jennifer’s mouth.

  ‘I don’t think so. These doors are all hooked up to the main security system. They are controlled in the head office upstairs.’ Foreman continues dragging her down the corridor. ‘My colleagues locked every door in this hospital manually via the computer system earlier this evening, except for yours of course. The only way to unlock them is to do it manually the same way. Even if your fellow patients hear, they won’t be able to leave their rooms to do anything about it.’ He laughs, coming to a stop when they reach her room. The door is half shut just as she left it; dim orange light continues to shine out of it, illuminating the corridor.

  ‘Mr Verdad. I have her.’ Foreman yells into the room before pushing on the door.

  It glides open. Jennifer screams. She turns her head away and shuts her eyes.

  The room is unrecognisable. A dark skinned police officer, bloodied and bruised, is tied up on the ground at the far end of the room; his head bobs from side to side as he lulls in and out of consciousness. The once cream bed spread, now a bright crimson, is pulled back revealing an unidentifiable man; his head half blown apart, his torso swimming in blood.

  Standing in the middle of the crime scene is Marcus Verdad, dressed neatly in his black suit and tie, his blond hair perfect as usual.

  ‘Jenny!’ He smiles, turning around. ‘I wondered where you’d got to. Where was she Gord?’ He directs to Foreman.

  ‘I got her just as she and the detective were trying to leave through the staff entrance.’ He glares down into Jennifer’s face.

  ‘What did you do with him?’ Verdad walks slowly towards them.

  ‘Shot him in the foot, he’s downstairs bleeding and cowering in pain as we speak.’ Foreman smiles, snickering lightly.

  ‘Why did you stop at the foot?’ Verdad pauses before letting out a manic laugh and rubbing his hands, focussing his eyes on Jennifer.

  ‘Well, I thought he might like to be informed when you finally get rid of our little Jenny here. Plus I thought you would get more fun out of killing him than me.’

  ‘Yes ... Good work Gord.’ Verdad takes his eyes off of Jennifer and looks at his employee, smiling.

  ‘Now,’ He continues walking towards them, ‘I am curious Jenny, how did you find out I was coming here tonight?’ Verdad refocusses his gaze on her, clasping a hand onto her chin and pulling her face towards his. She remains silent, her eyes still firmly shut. ‘Jenny, open your eyes – look at me at least.’ She remains still. ‘Look at me!’ He yells, placing a hand on each cheek and shaking her head sporadically. ‘How did you find out?’ He orders.

  Her eyes open into a poisonous glare, she yanks one of Verdad’s hands away with her free one before answering his question. ‘One of the patients heard your idiot guards on the fifth floor talking about it.’ She spits.

  ‘What! They were under strict instructions not to mention your name.’ He glances as Gord. ‘How would a patient know they were referring to you?’ He squints at her.

  ‘He didn’t. It was just luck. He’s a blabber mouth and I just happened to be the first person he told about it.’

  Verdad chuckled to himself. ‘Well, your luck has run out.’ He stares menacingly into her eyes. ‘You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone Jenny. I don’t want to kill you, I never wanted to kill you, but you’ve done this to yourself.’ He stands up straight.

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t done anything.’ She tries to pull away from Foreman’s grip but it is still too tight.

  ‘You agreed to testify against me.’

  ‘What! Who told you that?’ She frowns.

  ‘Your number one fan, Detective O’Connell.’ His voice is icy.

  ‘I never said that, I only said I would think about it, and the only reason I said that was to make him feel better. This morning I had decided not to talk at all, but that was until I got told that you were coming here to kill me! Needless to say I’m reconsidering my decision.’ She looks away.

  ‘O’Connell as good as told me last night that you were testifying against me.’ He leans in closer once more.

  ‘Well he lied. He was probably just trying to piss you off or get you to do something stupid, which it seems, you have. I thought you were smart enough to tell when someone is lying.’ She looks at him, amazed.

  ‘You’re a shitty person Marc and you do disgusting terrible things. But ... as much as I want to hate you and to get even with you ... I can’t! This whole time I’ve been thinking maybe he’s decent, deep down, maybe he is the romantic loving guy that I thought he was the entire time and wished that he was. I don’t want to believe what I saw.’ Tears begin to fall from her eyes. Verdad reaches gently towards her face and strokes a solitary tear off of her cheek, she slaps his hand away clumsily. Foreman pulls on her tighter still. Closing her eyes again she takes a deep breath before opening them and continues. ‘Declaring I witnessed something in court in front of a bunch of people, or even declaring I witnessed it to anyone for that matter makes it real. I don’t want it to be real.’ She sobs, closing her eyes once again in an attempt to stop the tears.

  Verdad stares at her, mesmerised. He reaches his hand up again, this time directing it to her shoulder attempting to comfort her.

  ‘Don’t!’ She spits, trying to pull away.

  ‘You still love me.’ He says, shocked. ‘You ... you still love me. After all this time, after everything I’ve done.’

  ‘No.’ Jennifer shakes her head quickly; tears pouring down her red face.

  ‘Yes you do!’ Verdad defends. ‘Why fight it? I’ve always loved you, ever since I saw you with your head stuffed into that big pile of books at the café.’ He half chuckles to himself. ‘I’ll stop Jenny. I will. We can be happy.’ He smiles, showing off his perfect teeth.

  ‘If you think that I would even consider this then you’re crazy. You should be the one living here, not me!’ She yells, shaking her head.

  ‘You’re only saying that because you think it’s the right thing to say. Who cares about right and wrong? What you think is the right thing to do isn’t necessarily what you want to do.’

  ‘We can’t always do or have what we want Marc.’ She pauses. ‘Besides, you’re wrong. I know what I want, regardless of what you say, and it isn’t you.’ She stares up at him. ‘You meant a lot to me. But I’ve had a long time to think about this. Of course I still love you, you can’t just stop loving someone, no matter what they do ... but ... the way you love someone … that can change. The only reason you want me is to make yourself feel better. You think that if someone can love you and be with you, then maybe you’re not such a terrible human being. You destroyed your life Marc, as well as the lives of innocent people and ... I can’t forgive that. Whether you have me in your life or not isn’t going to change who you are.’ A new flood of tears run down her cheeks as the words splu
tter out of her mouth.

  Verdad looks at her before turning and staring at the man lying dead on the cream mattress and the other one unconscious on the ground. His eyes are blank. He tilts his head towards the floor, silent.

  ‘Mr Verdad, just do it already!’ Gord yells, impatient. ‘The hospital’s guards will start to wake up soon.’

  Verdad glances up at him, this time his eyes seem full of contemplation. After a moment he stumbles, ‘I ... I can’t kill her.’

  ‘What! Of course you can. You’re just under her little spell. I don’t know what you see in her. She’s a manipulator. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, she’s got O’Connell wrapped around her finger, hell, she’s even got this entire hospital wrapped around her damn perfect little finger. Can’t you see that?’ He shakes his head. ‘You’ve killed before, quite easily, what makes this any different?’ Gord’s eyes are wide, manic.

  Verdad stares out into the empty corridor. ‘I didn’t know those people.’ He says vacantly. ‘Gord, get Quin and Liam. We’re leaving.’ He tilts his head towards the floor again.

  ‘What! But ... what about this?’ He indicates the bloody crime scene in front of him with his right hand, still firmly holding onto his gun. ‘You have to fix this up before we go.’

  ‘No.’ Verdad gazes into Jennifer’s eyes once more. ‘I’ve ruined your life Jenny ... I’m sorry.’ She looks away from him, saying nothing.

  Elegantly, he ducks past her and Gord, passing slowly through the door.

  Gord, still holding onto Jennifer, turns her around with him so he can watch Verdad leave, his face murderous.

  ‘If you won’t do it,’ he shouts to Verdad’s back, ‘I will!’ Verdad stops walking immediately and turns back around, surprisingly composed.

  ‘Gord, don’t be stupid.’ He takes a step back towards them, hands raised. ‘Go, start over, pretend you never worked for me.’

  ‘You’re a chicken!’ Gord cocks his gun, pressing it deep into her back – she winces, scrunching her eyes. A shot resonates down the corridor; the bullet slams into the door frame above their heads, showering plaster over them. Jennifer opens her eyes, looking around for the source of the shot. Gord, distracted, loosens his grip on her and leans out into the corridor.

  O’Connell is limping down the hallway, leaving behind a trail of bloody left foot prints, his gun pointing straight at Verdad. Sweat pouring down his pale face. Jennifer pulls herself away from Gord’s weakened grip, runs past Verdad and gallops straight to O’Connell. She grabs onto his free arm and wraps it around her neck, helping to support his weight.

  ‘Oh god, are you alright?’ She asks him, trying to hold off a fresh onset of tears.

  ‘Yeah, it’s just a little scratch, nothing to worry about.’ He jokes, panting. ‘It looks like I just made it here in time.’

  ‘This is bullshit!’ Gord calls out, stepping up to Verdad. ‘We came here to do a job. I haven’t been running around after this bitch, watching her every move for the last couple of months for you to just ... give up.’ He yells into Verdad face. ‘If you wanna be through with this business, fine, but at least finish what you started.’ He waits for a reply but doesn’t receive one. O’Connell and Jennifer huddle together watching the strange scene.

  ‘Fine!’ Gord erupts, turning and aiming his gun at Jennifer’s head. Her eyes balloon and her pulse speeds up. ‘Goodnight.’ He says to her, squeezing the trigger.

  ‘No!’ Verdad yells out. He lunges towards Gord and knocks his arm out of position as the gun fires. The two stumble sideways and crash into the corridor. Jennifer lets out a pained scream, releases her grip on O’Connell and clutches her hand onto her left shoulder. Blood seeps out of a fresh bullet wound, slowly forming a jagged circular stain on her white T-shirt.

  ‘Jen.’ O’Connell comforts her.

  Verdad continues to wrestle with Gord’s arm, twisting it sharply. Gord, too quick for him, swings around and whacks Verdad’s forehead with his gun. Verdad stumbles backwards, touching his hand to his forehead where fresh blood is oozing out of it. Gord stands tall again and refocusses his attention on Jennifer, aiming his weapon at her a second time.

  ‘No Gord.’ Verdad yells, lunging back over to him.

  He fires quickly before Verdad gets in his way. This time his aim is perfect. The bullet flies straight into Jennifer’s chest. The force from the bullet shoots her back, she begins to fall, gasping.

  ‘No!’ O’Connell yells, catching her. He guides her down gently towards the ground, navigating carefully around his injured foot. Quickly, he pulls his jacket off, bundles it into a chunky ball and forces it onto Jennifer’s chest, now erupting with blood. Still conscious, she stares up at him, her body convulsing uncontrollably. ‘It’s okay Jen, stay calm. I’ve got you.’ He whispers to her.

  Gord, grinning, raises his gun once more, this time aiming it at O’Connell. Just as he is about to pull the trigger for the third time, Verdad grasps onto him again. He flings his hand out, trying to reach desperately towards the gun, attempting to pry the weapon out of Gord’s tight grip.

  ‘Give me the gun Gord, you’ve done enough damage!’ He yells.

  ‘Not till the dick is dead.’ He spits. Verdad continues to twist and turn Gord’s arm. In one quick movement, he manages to get a strong hold on his wrist and twists it, forcing it back with his strength. There is an eerie snap and Gord screams, dropping the gun and pulling his wrist towards him.

  Verdad quickly releases his grip on Gord and drops down after the gun, picking it up swiftly just as it comes to a stop on the grey carpet. As he tries to navigate the gun into position, Gord, still clutching on to his newly broken wrist begins to kick him furiously. Verdad yells out with each dull thud, refusing to give up his grip on the weapon. Gord kicks him back against the wall, ploughing his heavy leather boots into Verdad’s face. Blood starts trickling out of Verdad’s nose. Gord stops kicking him, kneels down beside him and once again tries to quickly pry the weapon out of Verdad’s hand. Verdad, quick to recover, shifts suddenly and knees Gord in the stomach, revelling as his employee reels back, gasping. In one quick swift movement, Verdad sits up, aims the gun and fires a bullet directly into Gord’s head. His gasping breaths stop suddenly and his face glosses over. He thumps to ground, coming to a rest at an odd angle. Verdad, panting chucks the weapon onto the floor. Verdad stares down at the lifeless body, watching blood trickle out of the bullet wound and drip down onto the grey carpet. He is mesmerised until the sounds of raspy gasps and loud tears bring him back. He looks up towards his right and sees Jennifer lying on the floor, O’Connell bending over her. Quickly, he leaps up and runs over to the couple, matted together tightly on the hard floor.

  ‘Is she okay, is she alive?’ Verdad asks O’Connell impatiently, dropping down onto the floor to join him.

  ‘Barely, if we don’t get an ambulance here soon ...’ O’Connell sniffs, looking over at Verdad. Verdad pulls his mobile out of his pocket and dials ‘000’, all the while staring down into Jennifer’s pale face. The call is answered quickly.

  ‘Yes, I need an ambulance. A woman has been shot in the chest.’ His voice shaky. He takes a minute to quickly dictate their address and give further details of the injury over the phone. O’Connell takes little notice of him.

  He snaps the phone shut slowly. ‘An ambulance is on their way.’ He says, more so to Jennifer than to O’Connell.

  ‘Thanks.’ O’Connell stares at him appreciatively. Verdad nods, becoming more alarmed as Jennifer begins to gasp even louder, taking in quick shallow breaths.

  ‘No Jen, come on. An ambulance will be here soon, just keep breathing.’ O’Connell yells at her. Her head moves shortly up and down.

  ‘Jenny, I’m so sorry.’ Verdad stares into her vacant eyes. ‘I ...’ He stops and turns his head away. ‘O’Connell,’ he says after a minute.

  ‘Yes.’ He replies, applying more pressure to Jennifer’s chest in response to more loud gasps.

  ‘I should go downs
tairs – someone has to let the paramedics’ in.’ Verdad turns to face O’Connell whose attention is solely on Jennifer.

  ‘Yes.’ He replies vaguely. ‘Good idea ...’ Verdad returns his gaze to Jennifer one last time, taking in her soft features. He stares into her green eyes, tear stained and bloodshot and washes over her pale complexion, losing even more life as the seconds tick by. Slowly, he pulls himself up onto his feet, stares down at the intertwined bloody mass that is Jennifer and O’Connell once more before turning around hurrying towards the elevator. O’Connell ignores him as Jennifer gasps, coughing up a small pool of blood. The red liquid standing out vibrantly against her pale skin.

  ‘No! Come on Jen, you can’t die.’ He cries. ‘This is all over now, you have so many reasons to stay.’ He bends down and kisses her forehead softly.

  ‘Pete.’ She whispers, drawing a desperate breath. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry? For what?’ His eyes well with tears.

  She takes another raspy breath. ‘It could have ... been over ... years ago. I’m ... sorry.’ She coughs up more blood, gagging.

  ‘It’s okay. Don’t worry about it now, we’ll talk about it later. We’ve got our whole lives to talk about it.’ He brushes her hair back smoothly with his free hand, running his fingers along her glistening, pale forehead.

  ‘Promise you’ll explain everything to my parents.’ She gasps. ‘I love them ... tell them ... I love them.’

  ‘No, you can tell them that when you see them next.’ He presses more firmly onto her chest.

  ‘No ... point ... pretending ...’ Her voice grows fainter.

  ‘I’m not pretending, it will be okay! It will be okay ...’ O’Connell cries out.

  ‘Pete, you’re a good friend.’ She tries to reach out for his hand but fails, coughing rapidly, a larger pool of blood spilling out of her mouth.

  ‘A friend ...’ His face contorts, trying to hide his pain and tears.

  ‘A ... good ... friend.’ She closes her eyes, ‘read my notebook,’ she stops short, gagging.

  ‘Jen, come on!’ O’Connell starts shaking her un-injured shoulder. ‘Stay awake, you have to stay awake.’ More blood pours out of her mouth. Gently, her head drifts to one side and goes limp.

  #27 The Chase

 

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