“That’s all well and good,” William said, “but my point still stands. We’ve helped you achieve what you wanted, so how about you do us a favour now and take us to the ointment?”
“You understand that we had to put the electricity back online first, right?” Hawk said. “It was a quick and easy problem to solve. And fixing it will have a great impact. Had I told you about the ointment, there’s no way you would have come here with us, and we needed you.”
“You clearly did. Without me, you would have taken hours trying to work out the best route to the batteries, and Matilda would have died a slow and painful death.” Spittle sprayed from William’s mouth when he said, “Although, I’m still not convinced she’s going to avoid that. Can we just get on with finding the ointment?”
Hawk raised a halting finger at William. “Now—”
“I swear, the only reason I haven’t buried this axe in your head is because we need you.”
The steel he’d grown used to seeing in Hawk’s glare returned and his upper body tensed. The scars around his neck shifted with his twitching pecs. But then he relaxed and dropped his attention to his feet. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I have been delaying. It’s not that I don’t care about Matilda, and it’s not that I don’t appreciate the help to get the power back on. It’s just …” He looked up, his usual certainty absent, a glaze of tears staring back at William. “It’s where we have to go to get the ointment.”
William’s throat burned, the withheld scream itching for release. “I don’t care where it is if it’s going to make Matilda feel better. It could be in the deepest darkest corner of hell.”
“I’d rather it was there, if I’m being honest.”
Since William had met Hawk, he’d been certain about everything. He’d had the certainty of a fool. He’d been pig-headed and unflinching in what he had to do. But that certainty came from fear. The world closed in around him on a daily basis, and if he didn’t convince himself he was in control, he’d crumble. For the first time, Hawk openly wore that fear. After resting Jezebel on the tiles head first, the handle standing up between them, William reached over and grabbed the top of Hawk’s arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll get there, and we’ll support you. But please, we can’t hang around any longer. I can’t lose Matilda. I’m sure you understand that?”
Hawk dipped his head in concession and said, “Okay.”
“Cyrus,” William said, “we’re going to leave you here with Matilda.”
“I can look after mys—” Matilda paused and took several deep breaths, her face locked in a frown against her clear pain.
William looked at Cyrus. “You stay here, okay?”
Cyrus nodded.
A guardrail close by, William tugged at it, ripping it free from the edge of the roof. He handed the cold metal bar to Cyrus.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Use it if you need it. Hawk needs your sword.”
“I’m not taking a sword,” Hawk said. He brandished his spear. He also had a knife similar to Artan’s.
Olga raised an eyebrow. “You’re planning on throwing spears inside the palace?”
The muscles along the side of Hawk’s face twitched as he clenched his jaw. Artan handed his spears to Matilda. In the tight corridors of the building below, they’d only be a hinderance.
Hawk gave Artan his knife so the boy had one for each hand. He then took Cyrus’ sword. “Thank you. I’ll make sure I return it.”
“Just be sure to come back,” Cyrus said.
As Hawk led the others away, William crouched down in front of Matilda, held her face with both of his hands, and kissed her. He breathed in, inhaling every last moment of their connection. “We’ll be back in time with the ointment, I promise.”
A weak smile, Matilda said, “I love you.”
William kissed her again. “I love you too.” He took off after the others along the slightly slanted roof.
The asylum continued to call the diseased. Barp! Hopefully those in the palace heard it loud and clear. Maybe a naive wish, but they could do with the building being empty of those damn creatures.
Chapter 14
There were many people in need in the asylum, but Max had to get Dianna out of there first. His number one priority before she became one of the shrieking chorus wailing in the shadows. A two-handed grip on his war hammer, his body tense from where the cold walls pressed in on him, he kept walking forwards. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time.
Barp!
Already cold and shivering in the asylum, Max’s body made it worse by releasing a shot of adrenaline every time the tone sounded. The noise counted down without end. At least without an end he knew of. This building probably knew exactly when Max would crumble. Put him in a field of diseased and, although he might see his siblings as he cracked skulls, he could cope. But nothing up until this point had prepared him for this place. Children and women sobbing in the darkness. Never-ending stone corridors, heady with cloying damp infused with waste and sweat. How long would he have to wander the hallways searching for Dianna? Was she even here?
Barp!
“So you got the lights back on?” said the woman in the cell who’d shown Max the exit.
Max stepped closer, the weak bulbs in the hallway revealing more of her face. Her black matted hair clung to her greasy skin. Many of her teeth were missing. There were more gaps than enamel when she opened her mouth. His natural instinct to pull away from this grotesque woman, his body still shaking with the surges of adrenaline, he said, “Uh … thank you for helping me get out.”
While the woman’s external appearance personified madness, her eyes shone with a deep warmth and humanity. This place hadn’t gotten to her yet. A grin filled with gaps, she nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Barp!
Max flinched when the woman moved to the left, the weak light catching the sore on her right cheek. Black with age, it had eaten a hole in the side of her face. How much longer before it started on the bones beneath? Maybe if he got her out, she could clean herself? A thick rusting bolt stood between this woman and liberation.
The woman must have followed his line of sight because she moved aside, allowing the light in the cell behind her to highlight the six or seven silhouettes waiting in the shadows. Maybe one or two of them were children, but the majority were adults.
Max backed away. There were too many unknowns back there. Let them out and he might never reach Dianna. If he could help, he should, but should he help to the detriment of what he hoped to achieve?
The woman winked and spoke in a low hiss so only Max heard her. “Good choice.”
The woman vanished from where she got shoved aside, another inmate crashing into the door with a slam!
Wild eyes stared from the small window. A fat face framed by matted and greasy hair. Thick bags beneath her dark eyes, she spoke with a deep voice. “Let us out of here now!”
Max took another step away.
The woman who’d spoken to him first said, “Don’t let them out.”
The new woman kicked the door.
Barp!
She grabbed the bars in the small window and shook them, the door rattling in its frame. “Let us out of here! Who the hell are you to play god?”
Max moved back another pace. The larger woman also stepped back. Although he couldn’t see into the cell, the thud and gasp of someone being winded came out to him. Max stepped closer. “What are you doing to her?”
“Let us out,” the new woman said, “otherwise she dies.”
While wringing the wooden handle of his war hammer, Max ground his jaw. He’d stand a good chance against the larger woman with his weapon. But how could he start fighting the inmates? They were the victims in this. And would they really hurt one of their own? “I will be back to let everyone out,” Max said.
“How can we trust you?” the mean woman said.
“You have no choice.”
“We can choose to bea
t this woman to a pulp.”
“And I can choose to leave you in this cell to rot.”
Max’s legs trembled as he stumbled away. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to follow through on his threat.
Barp!
The tone ran to Max’s core. Instead of getting used to it, the noise peeled back another layer of skin and jabbed him harder than before. How long had some of the women been in here? Did they all lose their minds after a certain time? No wonder the corridors were filled with sobs and screams.
Mad Max.
“No!” Max hit his head with the heel of his right palm. “Not now. Not in here.”
“Hey, guard!”
Not the first one to shout that at him, Max refused to look at where the call came from. Instead, he stared ahead down the long corridor. “I’m not a guard.”
“Come on, guard, let us out of here. At least give us some food. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.”
Cells lined the shadowy corridor, and more women called at him. “Come on, we haven’t been fed in days.”
And it probably felt like days to them, but the place had only fallen the previous day. Whatever happened, they probably had a little bit longer before they worried about starvation.
“Guard, guard, please let us out.” A woman on his left.
“Come on.” A woman on his right.
Barp!
“Open up. Don’t leave us to die in here.”
“We’re loyal to Grandfather Jacks.”
“Grandfather Jacks is dead!” Max threw his arms wide, the weight of his hammer in his right hand. While gripping the handle, he shook the weapon in the direction of the last woman to call to him. “He’s been killed, and I have nothing to do with him.”
“Then let us out, guard!”
Were it anyone but a child, Max would have walked away. The small face pressed to the bars of a cell on his left. Dirty cheeks, deep brown eyes flickering with torment. Sanity resided in that small skull, but for how much longer?
“Please. I need to get out of here.” The kid’s mahogany stare glazed, filling with tears.
Barp!
Every part of Max’s being pulled towards the small child. He didn’t deserve this. He needed to let him out. But where did he draw the line if he did? How many more children would ask to be freed? How many adults would he have to liberate?
“No.” Max shook his head and backed away. “I can’t let you out. Not right now. I’m sorry.”
“Guard!” The shouts started up again.
“Please, guard, we don’t deserve this.”
“Let us out.”
Barp!
Mad Max.
Max’s breaths grew shallow, his chest tight. More and more cries for help, they swirled through the air around him. How the hell was he supposed to find Dianna in this chaos?
“Guard!”
And if they thought he was a guard, what would they do to him if he let them all out?
“Dianna!” Max shouted. It silenced those around him.
Barp!
He tried again. “Dianna? Dianna? Where are you?”
“I’m Dianna!” A small child’s voice. A boy.
“I’m Dianna!” A woman on his right.
More and more of them said they were Dianna. Other than the screams and shouts, other than the tears of the tormented children, every voice laid claim to that moniker. He’d not thought it through. And how could he tell if one of them was Dianna? So dark he’d have to get closer to every cell. Get the women to show their faces. Engage with their insanity.
Barp!
“Max!”
Max stopped. “Dianna?”
“Max! What are you doing here? I thought—”
“We were dead?”
“I’m so sorry.” Dianna’s voice broke. “If any of us had told you what they had planned for you in Umbriel, they would have killed us and everyone we loved.”
Maybe she’d made the correct decision, and maybe she hadn’t. All that mattered right now was getting her out of her cell and back to the others. For both of them to get away from this hellish place.
Barp!
Max switched his war hammer to his left hand and reached up, tugging on the bolt with his right. Best to clear the air before he let Dianna out. She’d only acted in the way she thought most appropriate. And what would he have done at fourteen if he’d lived the same life as her? “We got away. Me, Cyrus, William, and Artan.”
“That’s great news. I’m sorry they even did that to you.”
“We have Hawk with us. He’s been helping us, and he’s set on getting you out of here. That’s why I’ve come back. Turns out he’s not as loyal to Grandfather Jacks as many others were.”
The bolt’s action was gritty as he worked it free. Clack! Like every set of hinges in this place, the ones for Dianna’s cell door were no different, groaning as if even they were tormented from spending too much time in the asylum.
Dianna stood in the doorway. But then she vanished into the darkness. Her arms flailed as someone behind dragged her back. Another pair of hands shot from the cell, grabbed Max by his shirt, and pulled him in. Light exploded through his vision, the headbutt driving fire through his sinuses. Dizzy from the blow, his legs failed him as the shadows closed in.
Chapter 15
Barp!
William watched his step, the part of the roof they now crossed leaning at enough of an angle for it to be problematic should he stand on a loose tile. Yet he kept looking out into the meadow, the diseased flocking to the sound from the asylum. Like ants storming a picnic, they moved as one to the saccharine lure of the monotone call. “Should make it easier to go through the palace.”
Artan walked beside William, his back straight, his chin raised. “Let’s hope so.”
Hawk and Olga several steps ahead of them, Hawk said, “We need to clear the air.”
William nearly spoke until he realised Hawk meant for only Olga to hear him. The short girl looked the hunter up and down. “We do?”
“W-what happened in Umbriel. It came out of nowhere. And while it was fun, I don’t want it to get in the way of you and Max.”
“There is no me and Max.” Olga then quickly added, “But it’s fine. Honestly. I’m not into you either. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re—”
Hawk’s smile cut her off. He squinted in the strong wind. He reached out to Olga, and for a moment the pair squeezed hands before letting them drop. “Thank you.”
“And what about you and Dianna?” Olga said.
At first it had made William uncomfortable to listen to their conversation; he now sped up to be sure he didn’t miss any of it.
Hawk shook his head. “She’s young. She’s only fourteen. She’s more like a little sister, you know?”
“How come you’re so close?” Olga said.
“We just get on well.” After a second of staring into space, Hawk added, “She supported me when I needed it most.” His hand went to the rope burns around his neck. “Had she not found me when she did …” His glazed eyes lost focus. “And it wasn’t just about her finding me at the right time, it was the support she gave me after. She came to me every day to see how I was doing.” He smiled, his eyes remaining unfocused while his voice wavered. “She had a knack of always being there when things got bad.”
Desperate for something to say, William’s mind went blank. But it didn’t stop the crucial questions. He’d already doubted Hawk’s intentions, but even if his intentions were good, could they trust him? Was his head in the right place to be leading them into the palace?
Hawk walked to the edge of the roof and lay on his front, leaning over the side. William and the others did the same, the guardrail pressing into his chest from where he lay across it.
“That’s one of Grandfather Jacks’ private rooms,” Hawk said.
Several diseased on the ground snarled up at them. Two men, three women, and a young boy. They reached out as if they could will the group to fall.
“Grandfather Jacks always left the window ajar.” Hawk continued. “Whenever he took me into this room, I’d stare at the small gap. An inch of daylight, nothing more, but it would be enough to inspire dreams of freedom. Who’d have thought—” he laughed a humourless laugh “—after all that time wishing I could climb out of the window, that I’d be using this gap to get back into the palace?”
While Hawk spoke in monotone, his face twisted and his brow pinched. Could they really trust him to take them into this place? What if he’d already lost his mind? “Why should we go in this way?” William said.
“It’s a small and private room. Unlike many of the rooms in the building, you have to press the button beside the door three times to open it. With all these automatic doors, the diseased will be going wherever they like. Grandfather Jacks built these rooms for privacy, and I’d wager that not even the smartest diseased will work out how to enter.”
Were William not leaning so close to Hawk, he might not have noticed him trembling. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”
Hawk got up onto his knees and gripped the guardrail. His mouth spread into a maniacal grin. Panic sat in his glare. He jumped, swung around with the guardrail, and slammed both feet into the window frame, breaking it open with a splintering crash. In one fluid movement, he vanished into the room, the diseased on the ground throwing their arms up with an angry flurry.
A strangled diseased wail from inside the place, Olga said, “Oh shit!” She swung around and followed Hawk in.
Jezebel in one hand, William hung down from the guardrail with the other, found the window ledge with his right foot and then his left before he climbed into the room after his friends.
One diseased ran from one side of the room to the other, evading Hawk’s attack. As it ran past the window, William kicked it in the side of the head with a clop!
The diseased fell to the ground and Olga finished it off by driving the point of her sword into its right ear. It squelched when she pulled it back out again. Four diseased lay on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading out beneath them.
Beyond These Walls (Book 7): The Asylum Page 7