Run & Hide

by Brett Calhoun

  I tore my gaze from the shop and beckoned Sal to follow me. As hungry as we were this was definitely not the time to eat. Every second on the first floor was a roll of the dice on if you lived or died. The entrance to the basement was right next to the shop just as the information booth had mentioned. I didn’t like the idea of going into a place with only one entrance or exit, but I had to figure out why there had been two “hints” regarding checking out the basement. I pulled down on the metal door handle and the door swung open easily enough. It was a heavy door, just like the doors to the main stairwells. There was no light down the stairs that I could see. This only deterred me for a few seconds though. I took the first step and let the darkness devour me.

  The basement was definitely different from the rest of the hospital. The main floors of the hospital were very neat and looked nice, or at least they did at some point in time. The basement was only what it needed to be. The walls were made of a dull rough concrete and the stairs might as well have been made of stone. I was fortunate to see that there was a brass metal railing along the stairs for me to grip as I descended. It was completely black except for a slight shimmer off in the distance, which I assumed was a light at the bottom of the stairs.

  Upon reaching the base of the stairs I saw that the shimmer came from a bare hanging light bulb a few yards down one of the narrow halls. I noticed immediately that this floor must be quite large due to the fact that the path from the stairs immediately branched off into three different directions. I could make out other low hanging flickering light bulbs as well. It seemed they were spaced out much farther than they should have as there were huge patches of hallways that were left with little to no light, especially the corners. I surmised that anyone that came down here, back when this place was functional, knew to bring a flashlight.

  “Welcome to the last circle of hell.” Sal grumbled in my ear. “Jesus, it’s fuckin’ cold down here…”

  Sal was right. It seemed to be colder down here than anywhere else I had been in the hospital. I could see my breath easily, and I noticed a few ice sickles along some of the ventilation shafts. I immediately knew that was a bad sign, but if the colder air meant that the hunter was down here, how was that possible? I knew he had taken one of the main stairwells earlier, and the only way in or out of this floor was through the staircase we had just taken. Perhaps he wasn’t the only threat in this place? I pushed all my questions from my mind though and just held onto the simplest of conclusions: cold meant danger.

  “We need to watch ourselves down here.” I whispered to Sal as we began to make our way down the left hallway, “I don’t think we’re alone.”

  “I’ll light one of these if it gets too dark so we can see.” Sal said as he pulled out his matchbook, “We just gotta make sure to stick together down here. If one of us gets lost we’re fucked.”

  I nodded and continued slowly walking. The halls were made up of several storage rooms along each wall. Each storage room looked more like a jail cell than anything else though as each of them had barred doors padlocked closed. It was quite wet down there as well. I noticed a few shallow puddles as we made our way. I made a mental note to try and avoid them as stepping in them would make noise. I also kept my ears open for the sound of any puddles being disturbed in other areas of the basement. So far there was nothing but grave silence. I prayed that it would continue.

  Suddenly, as I was walking through a particularly dark patch of hallways, my foot bumped into something solid that made me jump back instinctively.

  “What is it?” Sal whispered after backing up a few steps.

  “There’s something on the floor in front of me.” I replied, “Light a match.”

  Sal lit one of his matches and we saw that what I had bumped into was the old corpse of a man sitting down propped up against the right wall of the hallway. His legs were sprawled out, so that must’ve been what I had bumped into. The corpse looked to be several months old as the skin was gray, sallow, and shrunken. Its head was hung forward resting on its chest. A large bullet hole was visible on its left temple. It appeared to be a man. He had on an old army jacket with a tattered flannel shirt underneath along with a pair of bloodied jeans. Along the neck and chest were several large bite marks. His hands were limply by his sides. One hand held a silver handgun with a brown handle while in the other hand was a smudged sheet of notebook paper clenched in his dead hands.

  Immediately I picked up his weapon and somehow knew exactly how to release the magazine and check if there was any ammunition in it. The weapon was empty. I guessed that the owner must’ve been down to his last round, although that didn’t explain any of the bite marks. I placed the empty magazine back into the pistol and stuck it in my back waistband. Even though it was useless as a weapon, maybe I would find ammunition elsewhere, or at the very least it made me feel somewhat safer to have a weapon. Sal’s match went out so he lit another one, while I picked up the paper in the dead man’s hand. It took a few seconds to work it out of his hand without tearing the sheet. The sheet was definitely smudged and the writer appeared to have been trembling awfully as he wrote. There were wet marks all over it that looked like they had come from tear drops, although I could’ve been wrong.

  It’s all over for me. I lost Wallace a while ago. He’s dead. I know it. I could hear his screams ring throughout these damned halls. I’m next, but I’m not going to let it get me. There’s a monster living down here, it’s the devil himself! I don’t deserve anything less though. I know what I am now. Maybe I’m already dead and this is hell. I’m so sorry, Cindy. I wish I could go back and do things differently. I’m so so sorry…

  “What’s it say?” Sal asked.

  “A lot of it doesn’t make sense.” I replied handing him the note, “He was being hunted and something tells me it was different from what that thing is upstairs.”

  After reading it, Sal handed me back the note and I pocketed it.

  “What did he mean ‘I know what I am now’?” Sal asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I replied, “Hopefully we’ll figure out more as we go on.”

  Sal and I continued making our way down the hall. My heart would always drop every time we came across a new set of storage rooms as I always feared that I would find a pair of glittering eyes watching me from behind the bars. I made sure to mark every corner with one of my pencils as I went so that way we would be able to find our way back. I still wasn’t sure what I was looking for down here, but after all the hints and the fact that others had come before us, there had to be something important. Wallace and his friend must’ve come in search of the same thing. Did they find it? In the deepest recesses of my mind I imagined a picture of me slumped over in some dark hallway rotting. It terrified me, but I couldn’t help it. I struggled to push it out of my mind.

  After what felt like at least an hour of wandering we passed by a well-lit hallway with an open storage room. A television set stood on top of a small metal cart with a shiny VCR on a rack under it. The television was on with static streaming quietly from its speakers. I signaled for Sal and approached it.

  “Yo, check that out.” Sal said pointing at a VHS tape sitting neatly on top of the VCR, “Pop that in.”

  I picked up the tape and saw there was some writing on the side and back of it. On the side of it was a white label with the words “RICHARD REMENDEZ INTERROGATION #1”. On the back of the tape was an index card taped to it that read “YOU’LL FIND WHAT YOU NEED ON BASEMENT LEVEL 2”.

  I popped the tape in and let it start. The video opened with an interrogation room. It looked like the recording was made from the booth behind the mirrored wall of the room. Two men in shabby suits were standing in the room talking. One was chubby and wore a tan suit with a large mustard stain on his tie. He had a blond crew-cut and a massive moustache. The other one was nearly completely bald and slim. His suit was dark blue and covered in lint. His wire-rim glasses made him look like a librarian. The chubby man was sipping coffee from a Styrofoam
cup. The two appeared to be waiting on something.

  There was a knock on the door of the interrogation room and the door opened. Two uniformed police officers escorted a young man with brown hair in. It didn’t take me long to realize that the young man was the kid that got murdered and dragged away by the psycho with a bag on his head. The kid looked healthier than he had when I saw him. He was wearing a red Hollister polo shirt and a nice pair of slacks. He was also in handcuffs. The officers seated him in a steel chair and removed his cuffs. The two men in suits took seats across from him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Remendez.” The blonde man greeted as he set his cup down and placed his hands together, “I’m Detective Fitzgibbons and this is my partner Detective Winkler. Have you been read your rights?”

  “Yeah,” the kid replied nonchalantly, “I’m not saying anything until I get my lawyer!”

  “That’s fine by us, Richard.” Winkler shrugged, “Your parents have called your family lawyer and he’ll be arriving soon.”

  “You don’t have to say anything to us, but I think it would be in your best interest to listen to what we have to say.” Fitzgibbons explained, “We know what you did, Ricky. You left a massive trail of evidence behind you. Now I’m sure you’re thinking since you got a rich mommy and daddy that everything will be taken care of, but not when it comes to situations like this.”

  “Oh be quiet.” Richard sneered, “I know you pigs are just trying to scare me so I’ll confess. I’m not stupid and I’m not guilty of anything.”

  “Is that so?” Winkler asked as he opened up a large manila folder, “Let’s see what your record says… According to this you’ve been arrested for driving under the influence twice, attempted rape although the witness later recanted her story, and last but not least arrested for marijuana possession five times.”

  “And you’re only twenty years old, Ricky!” Fitzgibbons smirked, “I’m scared to think what your juvenile record must say, but all in all, I’d say you’re definitely guilty of somethin’.”

  “So what?” Ricky shrugged, “None of that applies to this.”

  “Oh but you see it does.” Fizgibbons retorted, “Ya see, Ricky, you’ve developed a record. You’re not squeaky clean, so there’s going to be little to no leniency when you get your sentence. And do ya know what they give to murdering rapists in this state, Ricky? They give ‘em the death penalty.”

  “I’m not guilty though, so there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Ricky smirked and shrugged again.

  “Really?” Winkler replied skeptically as he dug through his folder again, “You left finger prints on the baggy of spiked cocaine you gave her, there were heavy amounts of fluids left behind on her body, and, I can’t believe you were THIS stupid, you had photos taken of you two together having intercourse.”

  “Wow…” Fitzgibbons said in mock awe, “Some criminal mastermind you are! I’d say you’re fucked, pal.”

  Ricky looked scared now. The color drained from his cheeks and for a few moments he began to look like the scared kid I had met briefly earlier today. His hands shook slightly and his voice cracked.

  “N-Naw, you don’t know shit.” Ricky denied as he looked down at his hands, “That’s all bullshit.”

  “Is it, Ricky?” Fitzgibbons looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Are you willing to bet your life that we’re full of shit?”

  “W-What would I-I have to do t-to fix this?” Ricky said with a slight shred of hope in his eyes.

  “If you confess, we can put in a good word with the DA and see about some form of leniency.” Fitzgibbons offered, “I’m not going to lie to you, man. Things are bad, but cooperating now will make things easier for you later on.”

  Detective Winkler passed a yellow notepad across the desk along with a pen. Ricky had tears in his eyes and hesitated for several moments before picking up the pen. Just as he began to write his confession the tape came to an abrupt end.

  “What was that all about?” Sal asked me with a puzzled look. I had forgotten that he had never met Ricky.

  “That was the young kid that got axed to death on the seventh floor.” I explained.

  “Looks like the bastard got what he deserved.” Sal commented, “But it makes ya wonder, ya know…”

  “What’s that, Sal?” I asked him.

  “It makes ya wonder who else here is more than they appear to be.” Sal said locking eyes with me.

  “I wish I could tell you, Sal.” I replied honestly, “I woke up here with no clue about who I was except for my first name. I could be child murderer and I wouldn’t even know it.”

  “Same here.” Sal gave a slight smile and nodded, “It’s kinda creepy to think about. What’s our next move?”

  “The back of the video tape said we would find what we need on basement level 2.” I explained, “I suggest we make our way for that floor and then get back to the others as soon as we can.”

  Sal nodded again in agreement and we began walking again. I had wished I knew where the damn stairwell to the second basement floor was, but Sal and I were just rats in a maze, hoping to find what we were looking for, while also hoping to avoid whatever found the previous owner of my handgun. Things were still eerily quiet as we made our trek through the darkness.

  After what seemed like hours, we finally found the access stairwell to the second basement floor. A sticky heat permeated from the stairwell, which I took as somewhat of a good sign. Sal and I found no light in the stairwell down and this time there were no railings so we had to take things slow. Occasionally Sal would light another match just to make sure everything was okay. I remembered dreading every time he lit a match, because I always feared that when the light snapped on I would find myself face to face with some abominable horror. Fortunately, our trek was undisturbed.

  The second basement level greeted my arrival with around a foot of nasty water for me to step in. I almost screamed in surprise when I felt the water stick to my ankle. As soon as I jumped back in surprise, Sal lit another match to see what the commotion was about. The floor was flooded. I could see a few small items floating around.

  “Damn,” Sal groaned at the sight of the water, “I’m not lookin’ forward to muckin’ around in that.”

  The water on my ankle was icy cold and miserable. I knew we had to continue though, so I just grit my teeth and stepped in with the other foot. The second basement floor was near pitch black, but from what I could see it was very small. It seemed as more of a relief station between the first and third basement levels. There were two rooms and another hall that led to the stairs down to the third basement floor. One of the rooms had a sign that said “Maintenance Locker Room” and was securely shut. The other room was a pump station responsible for the dispersion of water throughout the hospital. There was no way we could access the third basement floor in its current condition as it was completely submerged in water. I could see light from the third floor though, which meant the lights must be on down there at least. I was happy that whatever we needed was on this floor as I had no intention of getting completely drenched. I looked around for anything special, but found nothing of interest.

  As Sal lit another match, which he was starting to run low on, I caught a glimpse of a large plastic zip-lock bag floating near the entrance to the third basement floor stairwell. Inside it was a handheld voice recorder. I picked up the recorder and saw a tape was in it. I rewound it and clicked the play button. The recorder expelled static at first, but then I caught a voice.

  “This is Ralph, chief of maintenance; the damned basement has flooded again! It looks like seawater is pouring in from some unknown source. The water is wreaking havoc on the bottom two basement floors as it cut the power off to the second basement floor. Since the maintenance locker room is electronically locked, no one can get in or out of it. I got a lot of pissed off guys down here that are talkin’ about seein’ their union official. Hell, Bobby is locked inside the damn room and is yappin’ on about using that shotgun of his to blow the door
down! I just tried draining the water remotely using the valve over in the pump station but the water wouldn’t drain all the way and it came back after only an hour or so! I had Stenseth try to continually drain the thing too, but it locked up every hour! Nicky says he’ll swim down there and switch the power on after we drain it, but I think it’s too risky. We’re not makin’ another move until management gets off their asses and gets us some diving equipment down here.”

  Sal and I exchanged looks when a shotgun was mentioned and knew that it was probably the prize that had brought us down to the basement’s darkened halls.

  “It looks like we’re gonna have to switch the power back on down at the third basement level to open this locker room.” Sal confirmed as he inspected the locked door to the locker room, “It looks pretty solid. There’s no way we can break this door down.”

  “How do you recommend we do that?” I asked.

  “I guess we’ll have to race against time.” Sal replied, “If we pump the water out like that maintenance guy did we’ll have around an hour to hit the power switch. There’s a catch though.”

  “What’s that?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “The power is probably gonna trip again not long after we flip the switch, however we only need a second or two to open the door.” Sal explained, “That means one of us will have to stay up here and open the door while the other goes down to the third basement floor to hit the switch.”

  “Well I’m not exactly thrilled about it, but I’ll be the guy that goes down to the third level.” I volunteered, “I’ll be able to move a little bit easier in my clothes than you would in your suit.”

  “Hey, listen,” Sal said very seriously, “Are ya sure you wanna do this? We don’t know what the current state of that floor is. It could end up flooding a lot faster and if you get stuck down there you’re all sorts of fucked.”