by Amy Cross
“Damn,” she muttered, getting down onto her knees and reaching under the bed to grab the tray. “I'm sorry, I'll try to pull it together, I just -”
Before she could finish, she heard the bed starting to creak above her, and a moment later she saw blood starting to drip down onto the floor. Pausing for a moment, she managed to grab the tray, before finally looking up and seeing to her horror that not only had Chris begun to sit up, but she'd turned to look down toward the floor, which in turn was causing the blood in her eye-sockets to start draining out onto the floor.
“No!” Amanda shouted, dropping the tray again and getting to her feet before taking hold of Chris's shoulder and easing her back down onto the bed. “You can't get up! You mustn't -”
“I saw her,” Chris whispered suddenly.
Amanda stared at her, shocked by what she'd just heard.
“What did you say?” she asked, trembling with fear.
“I saw her,” Chris said again. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, it was almost as if it might fall apart under the weight of each word. “I saw the... girl...”
“What girl?” Amanda asked, her heart pounding in her chest.
“The... same one... you saw...”
“Wh -” She paused. “I need to get Doctor Bell.”
“No!” Chris hissed. “Not her!”
“She'll know what to do.”
“She hurt me” Chris replied, letting out a gasp. “She wouldn't let me scream, but she didn't give me anything for the pain...”
“She gave you injections,” Amanda told her. “I saw her giving them to you!”
“Those weren't for the pain,” Chris replied. “She was paralyzing my throat to keep me from screaming, she... Why can't I see? I remember... I saw the girl when I was in isolation, and then I think I...”
Her voice trailed off for a moment.
“You scratched your own face off,” Amanda replied, unable to think of a lie. “Doctor Bell feels responsible, but you did it to yourself!”
“The girl's eyes,” Chris continued, “were looking straight into my head. It was like... like...”
“But she didn't kill you straight away,” Amanda pointed out. “Why did she let you live? Why does she let some people live, but she kills others?”
“I couldn't look at her any longer, that's why... I had to get rid of my...” She paused again. “My eyes,” she continued finally. “I remember now, I had to tear them out... I felt like I couldn't help it, I couldn't stop myself look at her, so the only things I could do was...”
“I really need to call Doctor Bell.”
“It was the only way I could force myself to stop looking at that girl's eyes,” she added breathlessly. “I was going out of my mind, I thought at first she was a hallucination but then...”
Amanda waited for her to continue.
“But then what?”
“But then... then she... The last thing I saw, after I'd got one of my eyes out and I was digging out the other, was the girl... She was... smiling...”
“Smiling?” Amanda replied. “What do -”
Suddenly the door burst open and Doctor Bell hurried into the room, grabbing a syringe from the side and starting to fill it with clear liquid from a bottle. Her hands were trembling more than ever as she struggled to get the needle through the bottle's rubber covering.
“She's awake,” Amanda stammered, “and... She's talking.”
“She's delirious,” Doctor Bell hissed, “and you should have called me immediately. I've been so busy, I forget her latest dose of pain medication.”
“But she -”
“Get her away from me!” Chris shouted, trying to get her hands free from the leather restraints that were holding her to the bed. “Get this mad bitch out of here, she's -” Running out of breath, she started gasping for air as she pulled harder and harder against the restraints.
Forcing Chris back down onto the bed, Doctor Bell struggled to aim the syringe before finally managed to get the needle into the side of her neck and depressing the plunger. Chris struggled for a moment longer, refusing to surrender, until finally she let out another faint gasp. Moments later, the doctor let go of her shoulders and took a step back.
“I'm sorry,” Amanda told her, “I was about to call you but -”
“What did she say?”
“Just a few -”
“What did she say?” she shouted. “Answer the damn question!”
“Just that she'd seen...” Amanda paused, shocked by the anger in Doctor Bell's eyes. “She said she'd seen Leonora Blake, and that was why she did this to her face. She also said...” After glancing at the empty syringe for a moment, she looked down at Chris's face. “What's in those injections you give her?”
“It's for the pain.”
“But she said -”
“It's for the pain,” Doctor Bell said firmly. “You've been working here barely a week, Amanda. Please don't start thinking that you know better than me. When I say something, I don't want to have to endlessly explain why it's true. You're still just a prisoner here, remember. If you start getting in my way, I can send you back to work with the other idiots.”
“But if she's conscious -”
“That was my mistake,” she replied, slipping a cap back onto the needle before tossing it into a medical waste bag. “The injection contains a number of drugs, and some of them are designed to sedate her so that she doesn't have to experience the pain. It's no wonder she was confused just now, I was planning to bring her out of her sedation slowly and carefully, so as to ease the strain on her mind. Instead, she came blasting out, the poor girl must have been so confused.”
“I just -”
“You could have ruined everything!” she continued, clearly struggling to contain her anger. “You shouldn't have let her talk at all, you should have...” Pausing, she finally let out a sigh. “No, it's my fault. I was so caught up in things last night and this morning, I neglected to give her the next injection on time. I can't blame you, Amanda, you're just my assistant. This incident was entirely my fault and mine alone.”
“What are you going to do with her now?”
“Now?” The doctor looked down at Chris. “I'm not entirely sure, but one thing's clear. I have to make a decision quickly, because time is most definitely not on our side. Even without my mistake, Christine shouldn't have woken up so easily, which means the effect of the sedatives is starting to wear off, which in turn means...”
“Which I turn means what?” Amanda asked.
“She's dying,” Doctor Bell replied, with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It's all or nothing. If I'm going to save her, it has to be in the next twenty-four hours.”
***
“This is ridiculous,” Robin muttered as she picked up another piece of bone from the yard. “We can't keep burying this stuff, it just keeps coming right back up!”
Turning to Ferguson, she could see the look of concern in his eyes.
“We're going to be out here again tomorrow,” she pointed out, “and then again the next day, and the day after that, and -”
“Shut up,” he replied wearily.
“I'm just -”
“You're not gonna bury them!” he told her. “Okay? Just put the bones in these bags and then we'll get rid of 'em another way. Jesus Christ, you women rabbit on sometimes.”
“How are we gonna get rid of them, then?”
“You don't need to know,” he replied, “until I decide you do, so just get on with the job and stop nattering.”
Turning and making his way over to some of the other workers, he clearly had no intention of explaining anything to her.
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“Look at this,” Karen said, holding up a jawbone. “Seriously, who do you reckon all these bones belong to?”
“It's her victims, isn't it?” Robin replied. “Clear as day, it's all the prisoners who were murdered by the Blake girl. They tossed 'em out here, figuring they could just bury the
truth, but...” Looking down at the soil beneath her feet, she paused for a moment. “They won't stay down, not now there's people around. Just 'cause they're dead, that doesn't mean they'll just stay in the mud and let everyone forget what happened. No-one should ever have opened this place back up, it's disturbed things and now the dead want retribution.”
“Yeah, but...” Karen smiled uneasily. “It's not like... I mean, exactly how far do you think this thing could go?”
Hearing a distant rumble of thunder, Robin looked up at the darkening sky.
“I think Amanda Weir saw the kid again,” she said finally, turning back to Karen. “She was blatantly freaked out this morning, and she's usually got a pretty solid head on her shoulders, so I can only think of one thing... She denied it, of course, but I reckon I can tell when someone's lying.”
“So you think she's gonna be next?”
“I think someone's gonna be next, and someone after that, and it's not gonna stop unless Leonora Blake finishes us all off or we manage to work out what she wants. Sure, revenge is part of it, but there has to be something else, something we can give her that'll make her spirit rest.”
“Ladies!” Ferguson called out from the other end of the yard. “Shut up and get to work!”
“I don't like it,” Robin continued, dropping some more bones into one of the bags. “It's like something's going on in the background that we're not allowed to know about and -” Hearing another rumble of thunder, she looked up, and then she glanced at the main building. “That guy freaks me out, you know. There's something not right about him.”
Following her gaze, Karen looked at the windows and finally spotted Governor Windsor staring out at the yard impassively. She'd seen him watching the workers before, of course, but this time he had a strangely impassive look on his face.
“He acts all high and mighty,” Robin added, “but do you know what I think? I think the guy's a world-class pervert and he gets off on watching us bending down and doing whatever he wants. I wouldn't be surprised if he's jerking off every night to thoughts of all the things he could make us do. Face it, anyone who pursues a position of power is clearly fucked in the head.”
“Right!” Ferguson shouted. “When you've filled your bags, you're gonna pile 'em up by the wall while we wait to work out where they're gonna go next! Understood?”
“How long are they gonna be there for?” Robin asked.
“For as long as I fucking want!” he replied. “Got a problem?”
“He doesn't know,” she said quietly, turning to Karen. “He's making it up as he goes along.”
“Meanwhile we get to play with things like this,” Karen replied, holding up a near-complete human skull. “I just hope these bags of bones aren't left out overnight. With a storm coming, I figure that could get real messy, real fast.”
***
“Lights out can be brought forward an hour,” Doctor Bell said as she leaned back in the chair behind Governor Windsor's desk, “and start getting the prisoners up an hour earlier too, I feel as if my predecessor was much too easy on them. Short breakfast and cut it down so they only have two choices, I don't see why the state should provide a full buffet for these criminals.”
“Of course,” Grace replied, making a note, “and -”
“How much do we spend on food for each prisoner?”
“Um... I think it's about forty-one pence a day.”
“Halve it. No, quarter it. No, get it down below ten pence. That should be more than enough.”
“But -”
“Change suppliers, get cheaper materials and maybe cut dessert if necessary. This is a prison, not a holiday camp.”
“I think there might be rules about -”
“There are rules about saying no to me,” Doctor Bell continued, “and those rules are sacrosanct. I've been thinking about the way this place is run and I figure I have a very short period of time in which to make a few improvements, and -” Hearing a rumble of thunder outside, she turned and looked over at the window. “Are they making progress out there with those bones? I don't ever want to see those things again, it's disgusting.”
“I think Officer Ferguson has a plan.”
“Good. Get him to report to me once he's done. I've already begun to think of some more jobs for the prisoners, and I want to get things started as soon as possible. Hardstone is a prison, and it's going to start resembling one a little more clearly so that -”
Stopping suddenly, she noticed a shape standing near the door. She didn't look at it directly, not at first, but finally she allowed her gaze to wander until she was looking straight at the little girl, who remained half hidden in the shadows.
“Is that everything?” Grace asked after a moment.
“Yes,” Doctor Bell replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the girl. “Get out of here.”
Smiling awkwardly, Grace got to her feet and hurried out of the room, pulling the door shut as she left.
For a moment, Doctor Bell simply sat and stared at the girl. Her heart was pounding and she knew she needed to do or say something, but so far all she could do was wait.
“What are you doing here?” she asked finally. “I thought you were gone. It's been...”
She paused, before finally getting up and walking around the desk.
“It's been a long time,” she continued. “I never thought that I'd...” Pausing again, she began to realize the truth. “It's you, isn't it? My God, I never realized, but the little girl people say they've seen around here... You're the Blake girl? Then why... I mean, how come I saw you all those years ago?”
She paused again, her mind racing with the possibilities.
“He saw you too, didn't he?” she asked. “Alistair Windsor, I mean. He saw you and so did the Tate girl, and Christine Bradford too and now two of those people are dead and the third will be soon, but... Other people have seen you as well, haven't they? People who survived.” She took a step closer, still maintaining eye contact with the girl. “All this time,” she continued, “I can't believe I never put two and two together, but... How did you know that I'd come here?”
She stopped just a few feet from the girl and got to her knees, so as to get down onto her level.
“What do you want?” she asked finally, with tears in her eyes. “You've been appearing to me on and off throughout my life, so you obviously want something from me.”
The little girl stared at her, her cold eyes filled with death.
“Maybe I can help you,” Doctor Bell continued, shuffling toward her. “I'm a scientist now, you know. A lot has changed since the last time I saw you and I -”
Before she could finish, the little girl took a step forward, opened her mouth, and screamed with such force that the doctor instinctively crawled back toward her desk. By the time she was able to recover her composure, the girl was gone.
“Interesting,” she said breathlessly. “I think I'm starting to believe in ghosts after all.”
***
“This must be the worst job in the world,” Robin muttered as she struggled to haul a bag of bones across the yard. Spots of rain were already starting to fall, hinting at the downpour to come. “I mean, literally, can you think of anything worse?”
“At least we won't have to bury them again,” Karen replied, setting a bag against the wall. “They're surprisingly heavy, aren't they? You'd think bones'd be lighter.”
“Maybe they're weighed down by the souls that are still attached to them,” Robin said, taking a step back. “Sorry, that was meant to be a joke, but it sounds pretty morbid, doesn't it. Still...” Turning to look back at the churned soil on the far side of the yard, she couldn't help wondering if there might be even more bones buried deep, slowly making their way to the surface.
“This job could've taken half the time,” Ferguson muttered as he wandered over to check their progress, “if you'd spent less time gossiping.”
“Can we go inside now?” Robin asked as the rain began to fall with greater intensit
y. “It's pissing it down!”
“Gotta rake it all over first,” he replied, stepping back under a small awning that gave him a little relief from the bad weather. Smiling, he lit a cigarette. “The governor's gonna want this place looking neat, isn't she?”
“She?”
“Just get on with it.”
“No chance of a toke on that thing, is there?”
“Get back to work! Now!”
Heading back across the yard, with rain now pounding down all around them, the women grabbed their shovels and began to fill in the areas where they'd earlier had to dig down into the soil. The sound of the rain was so loud, none of them even bothered to talk, since they figured no-one could hear them anyway.
High above, darker clouds continued to roll toward the prison.
***
“I'm glad you changed your mind,” Andrew said as he eased the car out of the parking lot and joined the flow of early evening traffic that was clogging the roads around London. “I was thinking about everything I said earlier and I -”
“It's fine,” Grace replied over the phone, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. “I'll come by your place later. You don't need to apologize.”
“Yes, I do. I was wrong. It's clear that you really believe this stuff, and...” He paused as he took a left turn, joining the main arterial road that led around the north side of the city. “Who's to say that I'm right and you're wrong? Who's to say it even has to be that binary? I guess I just feel like... You know, with everything that happened after Sabrina Huntley died, I kind of -”
“Do you blame yourself for her death?” Grace asked suddenly.
“Do I...” He took a right turn and began to speed up. “No, I don't.”
“Why not?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You had a duty of care to that girl, and she hung herself in a prison cell after attacking you. I'm not saying it's your fault, Andrew, but shouldn't you at least feel some guilt?”