“Do we know if anybody’s armed?”
“Not that we can tell. Mostly they’ve been picking up the furniture and throwing it around.”
I looked toward the building and my gaze fell on something out of place on top of an industrial-sized air-conditioning unit. “Ohmigod, is that . . . ?” I said, pointing.
“Don’t look,” Wells told me. “That’s Cisco. He threw himself out the third-floor window. Crashed right through the glass.” The deputy paused to shake his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “I mean, that glass is triple paned. You’re not supposed to be able to go through it!”
“Why is he still on the unit?” Breslow snapped, pointing to the air conditioner. “You guys just left him there?”
“Beau,” Wells said, “you gotta understand. This is like a scene out of a zombie movie or something—I mean, wait until you see some of these guys in there! Their eyes are all buggy and most of them are foaming at the mouth and growling like some kinda rabid coyote!”
Wells looked totally freaked-out, and I knew he didn’t want to go anywhere near the building with its mysterious slamming doors and possibly possessed patients.
And, judging by the way Breslow’s pistol-wielding hand was shaking, he didn’t want to go in there either. That’s when Heath squeezed my hand, then motioned for Wells to open the back door for us, and we got out. “Breslow,” he said to Beau. “You got a Taser I can borrow?”
The deputy reached inside his glove box and pulled out a wicked-looking instrument. He then pressed the yellow button on the side, which ignited a loud spark of electricity between two metal points at the top, before handing it to Heath. “If one of them comes within three feet of you, hold that up under their neck until they drop. You got it?”
“Got it,” Heath said, taking the Taser. Then he turned to me. “Let me take point,” he said, shoving several spikes into his waistband with one hand while holding tight to the Taser with the other. “You stick close behind and if anything happens to me, you run like hell.”
“Right,” I agreed, but no way would I ever leave Heath behind. If we were going in together, we were coming out together.
Breslow surprised us when he got out of the car with Gilley’s fishing vest, which he put on before stepping forward to stand next to me. “You’re coming with us?” I asked him, a bit surprised.
He nodded, his lips pressed together in a firm line. “Can’t let you two go in there without some backup,” he said, patting the top of his firearm. Then he turned to Wells. “You coming?”
Wells paled and looked toward the building. Several of the patients still inside were screaming in the most horrific fashion. It was as if they were being tortured but also as if they were enjoying the terrible pain. I shuddered and I wasn’t the only one who did, right before Wells reluctantly agreed and we headed off toward the chaos.
Moving at a cautious trot, the four of us made our way to the front door, which, thank God, was a sliding door and not a swinging door. It opened automatically for us, and the second we crossed the threshold amidst all the screams and slamming, the terrible racket abruptly stopped.
It was as if a switch had suddenly been thrown and the two deputies and Heath and I were now standing in a deserted building. Nothing moved. No one spoke. Not a door slammed. And no one screamed.
We came to a dead stop, and I barely allowed myself to breathe while we all listened for any hint of movement or trouble.
But the only sound that came to me was from Wells, who had stuck close to me on the left side. He was breathing and sweating so hard that I was afraid he was having a panic attack. “Hey!” I whispered, and he turned big wide eyes on me. “You okay?”
“Why did it suddenly go quiet?” he whispered back. “Like, how did that even happen?”
I knew what he meant. The screams from the patients had been coming from all over the building; it would’ve been virtually impossible for them to coordinate their abrupt silence at the moment we entered the building. Not to mention the equally abrupt end to all those slamming doors. It just didn’t seem possible without something supernatural at play.
“Listen to me,” I said, grabbing his arm and moving close to hiss in his ear, because there was no way I was going to let him lose his shit in here when the situation was so dangerous. “You need to hold it together, Matt. Do you hear me?”
He nodded absently, but his wide eyes were roving all over the lobby area like he expected the boogeyman to jump out at him at any moment. “What if that thing tries to get into my head?” he said in a shaky whisper. “I mean, it got into Levi’s head. What if it comes after me?”
I clenched my jaw and dug into my pockets. Pulling out several magnets, I began to stuff them into the top of his Kevlar vest. “These are magnets. No spook can get into your head when you wear them. They’ll keep you safe from being overtaken, okay?”
For whatever reason, Wells seemed to relax a fraction. “They will?”
I held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You guys ready?” Heath asked us over his shoulder. He didn’t seem impatient, just focused on moving us forward when Matt had collected himself.
I cocked my head at the deputy. “We’re good,” he told Heath, as he adjusted his grip on his pistol.
Heath nodded at me, then squared his shoulders and moved forward slowly and cautiously. Breslow followed him, I followed Breslow, and Wells followed me as we made our way through the lobby to the main corridor and began to head down it. Along the way we heard the faint sounds of sobbing, and I squinted at what appeared to be a gurney with a sheet tossed over it.
I pointed to the floor under the gurney, where I could just see a set of tennis shoes poking out from under the sheet, and we moved over to it. Stepping forward, Heath and I squatted down and I carefully pulled up the sheet. A woman in a set of flowered scrubs jumped slightly when I pulled aside the sheet. She was sobbing and biting her fist to try to keep the noise down. “Hey, there,” I said softly, reaching a hand out to her, but she jumped again, so I pulled it back. “I’m M.J.”
She was trembling so violently, I wondered if she was able to take in anything I said.
“I know you’re scared,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “But we’re here to help. If you take my hand, we’ll walk you right out of here.” Again I reached my hand out to her, but she merely looked at it without taking it.
“What’s your name, honey?” Heath tried.
She wouldn’t answer him.
“I’m Heath,” he said. “I promise you that we can keep you safe. If you want to come out from under there, we’ll get you out of this building in no time.”
The woman made a whimpering sound, then sniffled, and then, like magic, she seemed to pull it together. The violent trembling stopped, no more tears leaked out of her eyes, and instead she took a deep, calming breath. I smiled at her. “That a girl,” I said. “See? You can do it. Now come on, honey. Come with us and we’ll get you to safety.”
She eyed me for a long moment, and then the corners of her mouth quirked and just like that, something shifted inside her eyes. I felt the warning a microsecond before she leaped at me.
Scrambling backward, I tried to dodge her outstretched hands, but she got my vest and began pounding away at me. She was strong as hell too. I put my arms up to block her blows, and Heath was doing his best to grab her and pull her off me, but then she started kicking too and she caught me right in the chest.
I went flying backward and for several seconds I struggled to take a full breath, but I also heard the sound of crackling electricity right before a loud thud shook the ground. A moment later Heath was at my side. “Em? Em?”
I held up my hand. I just needed a second so that I could get my diaphragm to cooperate. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to think calm thoughts—no easy task when you’re i
n a haunted crazy ward, and at last I was able to suck in some air. “I’m fine,” I said weakly as Heath and Breslow helped me sit up.
“What the hell was that?” Wells barked. I looked over at him and saw that he was standing over the woman, who was out like a light.
“Cuff her,” Breslow ordered.
“But she’s one of the employees!” he said, as if he couldn’t believe what’d just happened.
“Do it, Matt,” Beau told him, and his tone brooked no further argument.
Wells cuffed the nurse to a safety railing along the side of the corridor and we set off again, but this time I was right behind Heath.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to me over his shoulder.
“For what?”
“I should’ve blocked her.”
I put a hand on his back. “It wasn’t your fault, babe.”
Heath turned his head as if he was about to say something but was immediately silenced by the sound of laughter filling the corridor. It wasn’t nice laughter either.
The four of us froze, staring straight ahead, ready to run, fight, or stand our ground. From out of one of the rooms stepped a tall, skinny man in his mid – to late forties, or thereabouts. His features were long and gaunt, and his eyes were too big and buggy for his face. He was dressed in a loose sweater and baggy pants and his feet were bare.
After stepping into the middle of the corridor, he eyed each of us in turn with a sort of cunning look—as if he had the measure of us immediately. “Little DeeDee has come back to play?” he said, his voice so filled with evil that it made my blood run cold.
“Put your hands above your head!” Breslow shouted, pointing his weapon right at the man.
“The Sandman has missed his DeeDee,” he said, completely ignoring Breslow. “She’s gone on, hasn’t she?” he taunted. I tried not to appear rattled, but it was very, very hard. “DeeDee played a trick on the Sandman,” he continued. “She should have known that wasn’t smart. Now I’ll have to play a trick on DeeDee’s little DeeDee. Even the score. Won’t that make DeeDee learn her lesson?” he said, cackling with delight.
“I said, put your hands above your head!” Breslow roared. He moved a few steps closer to the man and Heath moved with him, the stun gun and a spike clutched in his hands.
The possessed man at last seemed to focus on the advancing threat coming toward him. He eyed them warily at first, and then he simply grinned, held up his fingers, and gave a loud SNAP.
In the next instant every single door in the hospital began to open and slam, open and slam. The noise had been loud when we were outside. It was downright deafening inside.
Breslow and Heath flinched at the sudden eruption of sound, but they also kept advancing.
Wells, who’d been next to me the whole time, put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Stay put!” Then he moved forward too, trotting down the hall to catch up to Heath and Breslow.
The guy currently possessed by the Sandman shifted his gaze back to me, and we locked eyes. I started to shiver, and I didn’t think I could stop. The Sandman knew my mother. And he knew I was her daughter. And by the speech he’d just given, I knew that she’d gotten the best of him at some point in her past, but how and in what context I couldn’t be sure.
What was certain was that if I didn’t figure out how to send that son of a bitch spook back to hell, he’d take me with him. There was murder in the eyes of that mental patient, and I knew it was murder inspired by the Sandman.
“Screw you,” I mouthed at him, hoping he could read my lips. He smiled wickedly. He’d read them perfectly. I gripped my spikes and began walking toward him. There was no way I was going down without a fight.
His smile got even more sinister and he held up both hands, preparing to snap his fingers again, but then he held them in the air as if he wanted to draw the moment out.
Heath picked up his pace, and then so did Breslow and Wells. They were closing the gap as if they sensed that with the snap of those fingers, something even more terrible would happen.
I picked up my pace too. The air was filled with tension and malice. Heath and Breslow were side by side, closing the gap, rushing a little bit faster with each step, but I knew . . . I knew they wouldn’t tackle him in time.
Ten feet from them, the mental patient snapped his fingers and seemingly from every doorway emerged a wildly crazy person. Screams and howls filled the hallway, and I realized too late that I was too far away from my three companions for my own good.
Two men came out from opposite sides of the hallway and lunged at me. I shrieked and raised my spikes, turning them in my hands to use the flat top side to pummel one in the shoulder, and the other in the ribs. Both of them backed off immediately, but then they seemed to recover and they came at me again.
Somehow I stayed clear and spun around just out of their reach. I thought to run out of the building, but I took only two steps before more doors opened and several more howling mental patients came rushing at me. I spun yet again, weaving and dodging and hitting at anything that got too close.
There was such chaos in the corridor that it was impossible to see Heath, Breslow, and Wells. I was lost in a sea of snarling faces, foaming mouths, wild eyes, and clawing hands. I felt like I was in a zombie horror movie, especially when my face was scratched by sharp nails, and my ankle nearly kicked out from under me.
I reeled, and twisted, and spun and darted, trying in vain to dodge all the hands trying to grab me. “Heath!” I screamed. “HEATH!”
And suddenly the hands stopped grabbing for me, and the blows subsided, and in an instant my path seemed to clear. I looked up expecting to see the love of my life there to rescue me, but instead I found myself in front of the possessed patient. My mind reeled. How had he gotten around Heath, Breslow, and Wells?
His appearance threw me and the shock of it caused me to pause.
In that split second, he smiled so evilly that I felt my blood run cold. And then he grabbed me by the sides of the head with both hands, cocked his own head slightly before opening his jaws wide to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth, and in an instant I knew he was going to bite my face off.
I closed my eyes reflexively and tried to pull away, but he was far too strong. I screamed and then something hit me in the shoulder hard enough to send me flying backward for the second time that day. There was the sharp sound of an electrical current, a bloodcurdling scream, and then the whole place went absolutely silent again.
Chapter 11
I rolled around on the floor for a few seconds, trying to get my bearings, when I felt a hand on my arm. I shrieked and struck at it, but then I heard Heath say, “Em! Em, it’s me!”
I blinked and looked up at him, forcing myself to focus on his beautiful face. This time I reached for his hand and let him pull me to my feet, then threw my arms around his neck and let out a pathetic sob.
“Hey,” he said gently. “Babe, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
I realized this was so not the time to lose it, and swallowed hard several times before backing away from him and looking around, ready to battle anything that moved.
But all around us were the prone bodies of fallen mental patients. “Are they dead?” I gasped. I hadn’t registered any shots being fired, but I’d been a little preoccupied with trying not to have my face bitten off.
Heath held up his stun gun and gave the trigger a good push. It zapped with energy. “Remind me to get one of these,” he said.
“You did all this?”
“He had help,” Breslow said from down the hallway. I realized then that he was holding a baton and Wells had his own stun gun in hand.
I turned back to Heath, pointed to his Taser, and said, “We’re both getting one of those.”
• • •
A bit later we had twelve patients plus the nurse in han
dcuffs and zip ties, and we’d cleared the building. All of the people who’d been possessed were then taken to the hospital for evaluation, because none of them had come to. The paramedics who tended to them at the scene kept commenting that they couldn’t understand how a couple of stun guns had put thirteen people into a perpetual state of unconsciousness, but then, they’d had no experience with the Sandman.
It was such a frightening thing to consider that one evil spirit could possess the wills of so many people all at once. I mean, I’d heard of a couple of cases where up to three people had been possessed by the same spook before—but never more than that. This spook had taken over the minds of thirteen people. Thirteen. It made me tremble to think of the power that would take.
I was told by one of the nurses that several of the patients who’d attacked us in force were some of the most docile patients in the hospital. “It just doesn’t make sense!” she’d said. “Why would they all turn on us so suddenly like that?”
I had the answer, but I didn’t have the energy to tell her specifically what’d happened. Instead, Heath had taken one long look at me, marched over to Breslow, and told him he was taking me home for the day.
“You’re leaving us?” the deputy said nervously as Heath led me over to a bench.
“Yep. I’ve already called for a ride so you don’t have to worry about getting us home.”
I leaned back on the bench and winced. It felt like I was bruised all over.
“But what if that thing comes back?” Beau asked.
Heath hefted the duffel bag he’d pulled out of the back of Beau’s squad car and handed over several spikes and magnets. “Have your other deputies wear these flat magnets under their Kevlar and carry the spikes in their belts,” he instructed. “I doubt that spook will be back today, but just in case, you should be safe enough with those on you and your team while you work the scene.”