He frowned, "Nah. The town held a clean-up during a summer-long before I moved here." Pointing to the half of the building that still had the first floor he said, "The entrance to the basement is in there. According to Simon, there isn't a chain or lock on the stair doors."
Brad said, "I'm going to explore. Should only take a few minutes." He walked towards the building and faded away.
I shivered. Would that ever stop being creepy?
Chance asked, "What is it?" He looked around.
"Nothing. Just how Brad disappears when he leaves." I shook out my body and hands, "He is going to check if Lewis is here. Give him five."
"Now having a ghost that could enter and warn the police of danger. That would be handy." He moved a stake to his belt.
"I always wondered if the government knew anything about the stuff out there. After you talked about the missing files, now I wonder how much they know. And if they know about me."
He nodded. "It crossed my mind too." He took off his cowboy hat and brushed back his hair. "I don't fancy ending up on the wrong side of a scalpel either."
On the hill, the trees made it hard to see the town. "Can you imagine driving up here to leave a loved one for treatment."
Casteele said, "Well, it would likely be in the back of a police car." He put back on his hat. "The county ran Spring Peaks back in the day. So, this is where those who were criminally insane went."
"Wait, I thought the World War Two fire-bug was the only criminal ever brought here?"
"He was the most well known in town because of the fire that he caused, killing some of the patients and himself."
"So, who else got shoved off to this sanctuary of sanity?"
He snorted. "Sounds like you have a personal hate against institutions."
"I did my time," I said. "Lots of people don't or can't believe there is more out there."
His smile dropped. "True. That's why I kept my peace." He looked up at the clouds, "Well, from what I read, there were a few others."
"Hmm. No details."
"Just more things I wished never happened, and that I wish I could forget."
Staring at the peeling plaster, I wondered how many had been committed because they saw things they couldn't forget.
After a moment, he asked, "Shouldn't your ghost buddy be back by now?"
I shrugged. "We've never done this before. Give Brad another five minutes."
Chance's hazel eyes hardened as he put a toothpick in his mouth.
I asked, "What's with the toothpicks?"
"It helped me stop smoking."
We moved to a part of the building that was open, still in the sunlight but got us up out of the snow. Chance leaned against a burned column. "Since Brad seems to be occupied, I'm curious."
I tilted my head, "About?"
"Are you done with Roth?"
My breath hissed out, "Jesus, Chance."
"He is violent. You should stay away from him."
"You don't have the right to tell me shit!" Feeling the rage waiting to be freed I stopped. My tonfas were in my hands. I didn't remember grabbing them out of my bag. Putting them at my sides, I started breathing deeply. "Sorry."
He shifted a stake in his gloved hands. He stayed silent, watching me.
Everything felt wrong. I walked away.
"I'd never tried to be in an adult relationship before. Roth is so smart and sexy. I thought why not?" I watched the snowfall and listened to the quiet of winter. "But somehow. Somehow, we can't make it work."
Putting his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it, saying, "Dianna, I need to tell you something." His voice had that I'm-sorry-to-have-to-tell-you quality; throaty and sad.
"What?" I turned around.
His gloved hand moved from my shoulder. Chance met my eyes and said, "Roth is dangerous."
Sighing, I asked, "Does he have assaults on record, is that it?"
He sighed, "No. He is squeaky clean." Shaking his head, he started to say something, but I felt something hit my neck, right under my knitted hat and hair.
Chance moved, raising the stake as I fell down.
Looking at his boots, his face was next to mine. Blood poured over his closed eyes.
I tried to push myself up, but my arms and legs didn't respond. Someone rolled me over.
Standing on top of me, crouching down, Lewis' eyes gleamed from his protective goggles. "I have to feed," he said.
Grabbing me up Jason Lewis yelled in my face. The black balaclava didn't hide his putrid breath. "It's your fault!"
"Your breath stinks, Lewis," I whispered. My vision slowly started to change to crimson.
Shrieking, he picked me up like a doll and threw me against a tree.
My lower back took the impact. As bones cracked, I screamed.
Picking me up by my coat's front he screamed, "Your fault!"
He slammed me into the tree over and over. My back took the first hit and then I felt my head hit too hard. The rising red faded and the world went black.
Chapter Thirty-One
My head hurt in ways it never had before. I tried to open my eyes, but something covered them. The back of my throat burned as I smelled the smoke. Warm hands took off the gag on my mouth.
"Dianna, we have to leave. Some nutter kidnapped us."
Roth's hands gently took off the blindfold. He had blood on his forehead, mixing in with the fading red tips and black locks. He only had on black pants, and a black undershirt over a red ripped up button-down top.
The room had large concrete brick walls with once white paint peeling. The years of graffiti over the brinks consisted mostly of hearts with initials together. Posters filled one wall. The bands and shows dated from the nineteen nineties.
Old hospital equipment and six beds, three on each side, lined the room. Newer blankets and pillows had been put on the beds. All in bold colors. My hands were bound to one of the beds. Two groupings of candles barely lit the area.
Chance's skin looked chalky. The blankets under him were soaked in blood.
Brad stood next to Roth. "Dianna, we need to leave! I can't fight them! There are too many!" He pivoted around in a tight circle, searching. "I think they can hurt you. Lewis is upstairs. He can control them! He put gasoline everywhere. You need to get out now!"
Roth waved a hand in front of my face. "Dianna, can you hear me." He had his cell phone out. Splintered glass cracks lined the screen. "No signal."
Switching the phone to its flashlight mode, he clipped it on his belt. The small light brightened the area. Untying the ropes on my hands, he asked, "Dianna?" He had blood on his neck and matted on the back of his head.
"Who?" Everything seemed fuzzy. Coughing from the stink of gasoline and smoke, I asked, "Lewis?"
"Lewis. The one wanted for murdering that doctor?" As he undid the last knot, blood flooded into my hands with a burning sting. Looking over at Chance, he sneered. "I should kill him for putting you in such danger."
Shaking my hands vigorously I said, "He didn't force me to do anything." Setting up, the muscles in my back reminded me of the damage Lewis had inflicted upon them. "Roth, I can barely sit up."
Turning back, Roth picked me up and held me in his arms. He said, "We have to leave. This place is on fire."
"We can't leave Chance. Put me down."
For a moment, Roth tensed, squeezing me tighter. "No." He walked towards the double doors. The only doorway out.
Sighing in frustration, I pushed against him.
He hesitated, "There is no time." Relenting, he put me next to him, supporting me as I stood with an arm around my waist.
My legs gave out, and I knelt by Chance. I tried to untie a knot, but my fingers weren't cooperating. "Dammit Roth! Help!"
Growling loudly, Roth came over and quickly undid Casteele's knots.
I nudged Chance's shoulder, "Wake up!"
He didn't move, and his breathing came out fast and shallow.
"You have to carry him."
Roth gl
owered at Casteele's still form. "And how the hell will you get out? You can't will yourself to walk, Dianna!" His accent coated his words along with his anger.
Taking off his red shirt, Roth tore it into strips. He put one over his nose and mouth, handing me the other strip. I put it on. Picking Chance up, he threw him over his shoulder, so that Chance's middle rested on his shoulder. Chance was taller than Roth, so it looked cumbersome.
Grabbing my hand and half dragging me Roth went to the doors. My legs weren't working right. He kicked it open with his bare foot.
Smoke poured into the room. I kept listing to the side and slipping down as my legs tried to function. My back constantly spasmed as I breathed hard with the effort it took to walk.
Coughing we made our way forward. Nothing was visibly on fire in the hallway we entered. Trying to remember the blueprints, the stairs were to the north, but which way was north?
Seeing a sign ahead that had a faded S I said, "This way."
We walked towards it with Roth still holding my wrist and dragging me along whenever my legs gave out. My wrist, elbow, and shoulder hurt from the abuse.
As we got closer to the sign, the heat started to make us sweat. I touch the door, feeling the heat on it. "Ouch!" I moved my hand away quickly.
Roth said, "If it’s the only stairs, we have to chance it."
I hit my hand against my temple, trying to remember. How many exits from the basement were there? The service elevator! There would be a ladder inside we could climb up. I could open it if my hands were working when we found it.
"Service elevator. It has a ladder inside it."
Frowning, he shifted Chance's body, "Let's go."
As my head cleared the pins-and-needles in my hands started to fade. Normally, I could carry Chance. Roth kept a death grip on my wrist as he sprinted in the direction I pointed. Heading to the elevator, the drug Lewis used on me made everything appear to be underwater with a yellow filter.
Losing my balance, I fell to a crouch.
Pulling my wrist, refusing to let go, Roth asked, "Which direction?" His words sounded muted.
"South," I said not trusting my vision. "Drug. Lewis."
Roth dragged me along. My arm throbbed from the mistreatment.
Brad waved up ahead from a hallway, "Over this way!"
I pulled on my wrist and pointed towards Brad. "That way."
Putting Chance on the ground, Roth crouched and picked me up. He asked, "Is your head alright?"
"Lewis drugged me." It seemed so stupid. I had gotten ambushed and drugged by a vampire. I started laughing.
Roth's hard slap made my head crank to the side.
"Bastard," I said, rubbing my cheek.
Not saying anything, he held me up. "Are you too injured to continue?" His eyes bored into mine, piercing the smoke.
Mad, I shook his grip off. "I can manage."
Brad shouted as a large ghost lumbered towards us.
The ghost didn't have colors like Brad. It was blackened and appeared more solid. Thick chains wrapped around the man, who wore pants and a top. He must have stood at least six and a half feet in life, and almost as wide, with thick muscles. His bald head showed a face mostly burnt to ash. Only one eye remained. It bored into me as it raised the chains. Swinging them from side to side, sparks ricocheted off the walls.
"We have to leave him, Dianna." Roth held me unaware of the danger headed towards us.
"Roth!" I wouldn't let this ghost harm him!
Brad suddenly popped out from a wall next to the ghost, knocking him through a wall. "Hurry!"
"Put me down," I said.
Gingerly setting me on my feet, I stood. Stumbling slightly ahead of Roth I used the wall as a brace. I said, "This way."
Everything still seemed yellow, dark, and moving, but we needed to leave before it was no longer an option.
The smoke either grew thinner, or I'd gotten used to it. The elevator doors were open, with graffiti decorating the inside of the shaft. A single door next to the elevator shaft had the word stairs on it in peeling red paint.
Roth bumped me aside and kicked the door open, without bothering to test it. I grabbed his arm, pulling him and Chance away as I expected a wave of heat and fire to spit out. There was no deadly fireball. We ended up sprawled on the floor.
Roth spread-eagled atop Chance, icy eyes glaring at me. "Do that again, and I leave him."
He got up and searched Chance's coat. Pulling out a mini bottle of water, he took a drink then pointed the way we came.
I looked back and hoped Brad had got away. The smoke had made it too dense to see more than the blue sparks from the chains of the ghost.
"There must be a generator somewhere. We need to get out quickly."
I turned back to him, "I'm trying."
He handed me the water bottle.
I took a swig. Even with smoke blocking my sense of smell the water tasted like Roth smelled, like honey and spice. Taking another drink, the spasms in my muscles ceased. I handed the water back to Roth.
“No, you finish it.”
I finished the bottle and tossed it to the ground.
Roth stood up and said, "I'll need your leverage to lift this lump."
I took the water, and a stake Chance had brought, shoving them in my back pockets. Then I helped Roth put Chance back over his shoulder, and a wave of nausea hit me. Bending down, I ripped off the piece of shirt from my face and started vomiting. Chunks of black blood came out along with my breakfast. After getting sick, I felt better. The yellow tinge to everything faded. Wiping off my face with my shirt, I tied the red shirt piece back over my face.
Roth said, "Lewis, you said?"
"He is a murderer."
"Obviously it’s become a habit."
He offered his hand to help me up.
"I'm alright." Standing up, I said, "I think whatever Lewis gave me is leaving my system."
The door stood open, smoke drifted in.
Pushing ahead, Roth said, "Stay behind me."
The narrow stairs caused Chance's head to smack against the wall as he took the corner up.
"Roth!"
Roth's pale eyes narrowed as he turned around. Saying nothing, he continued up the stairs.
Brad whispered behind me, "When you get upstairs stay to the right. It looks worse, but trust me, head to the right."
"To the right," I whispered.
"What," asked Roth.
"When we get to the first floor, we head to the right."
"I have to go! There are too many!" Brad's voice grew faint as he left. "Stick to the right. The first set of doors."
"Too many what," I wondered.
Pushing open the door at the top, Roth said, "What?"
The door opened in towards us, so I had to move back down a couple steps so Roth could pry it open.
Chance remained unconscious. His tanned face had streaks of blood fresh and drying. Moving him in this condition sucked and remained a bad idea, but leaving him in a building a vampire set on fire was a worse one.
I walked up the last stairs and through the door. The upstairs was covered in fumes and thick smoke. I couldn't make out anything past my arms, so I put my hand on the wall.
I yelled to Roth, "Hold my hand, I'll touch the wall, so we know where we are!"
I couldn’t see him anymore, it was too thick.
He took my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. His hand felt cold. I worried he was injured worse than he let on.
The sheer heat of the place had my whole body sweating. Walking without being able to see anything but flames and smoke made me whisper a silent prayer. "Let us live."
The feeling of the old paint, the occasional nail stuck out scraping at my fingers. Not worried about injuries yet, I kept moving. Roth still held my hand. I felt a door frame.
Using my strength, I kicked out at it. The door flung open and off its hinges along with the chain and locks that had held it.
Pulling on the hand, I felt the chill of
the night. I kept moving until we were far away from the hospital. I fell down on the snow.
We needed to get farther away. But I hadn't eaten in so long that my wounds weren’t healing.
Rolling over to look at Roth, I screamed.
Lewis smiled at me with fangs growing. "It's your fault, Dianna!"
Chapter Thirty-Two
His eyes didn't blaze red. He most certainly did not sparkle. But he did look like he planned to finish what he started. He was wearing a black suit; a once white shirt soaked through with old and fresh blood. The blazing inferno of Spring Peaks reflected in his eyes. Nearby, a man's voice sang about the fire.
Stealing a glance, I saw a semi-transparent man dancing and singing.
Lewis grabbed me by my coat and pulled me close enough I could smell the rot in his breath. "It's your fault!" His spit hit my cheeks.
"Say it, don't spray it," I replied.
Shrieking in rage, Lewis shook me. "You bitch!” Bringing me close he said, "You did this!"
"Lewis, you have to stop." The cold from his hands penetrated through the layers of clothes, making me shiver.
"How do I make it stop?" Throwing me on the ground, he leapt on top. His hands pinned mine down. "If I drink more of you, will it go away?"
Pushing against him he barely moved. "No."
Sniffing my neck, he said, "This hunger has to end."
I thrashed and bucked my legs, trying to dislodge him, but stopped as his teeth pierced my flesh. I didn't want to end up with my throat ripped out. "No! Stop!"
His tongue licked at me as he lapped at my blood. Moaning he whispered against my neck, "You taste so good."
He pressed against me tightly and kept sucking with his fangs just shy of penetrating again. Suddenly, he started gagging. He moved away and started to vomit. Blackish blood poured out of his mouth.
I sat up. Everything was spinning. My head felt heavy. Holding the wound on my throat, I pressed on it hard.
Roth and Chance were still inside the fire. I had to save them.
Lewis continued to puke. Soon, he would stop. Once again he would try to feed. He was a monster and had to die.
Dead Chance Page 14