Monsters and Lollipops

by Franklin D. Lincoln

A slim, young woman slipped through the doorway into the hall and closed the door silently behind her. There was an eeriness about the empty hallway at two thirty in the morning. The building lights were kept on all night and even though there was no change in the wattage, the lights seemed less bright than when the building was bustling with normal hour’s activity. The loneliness of the night hung in the air like a heavy fog with an almost ghostlike menace to it.

  She clutched the gray canvas bag with the two blue straps, tightly to her body as she hurried down the medical center hallway toward the elevators at the south end of the wing. Her rubber soled nursing shoes padded against the tile floor and echoed dully in the emptiness of the hallway.

  Her breathing was short and shallow and her heart was beating rapidly; half with excitement and half with fear. She had gotten what she had come here for and the revelation of her finding was more than she had hoped for. She shifted the bag to her bosom and held it tight against her with both arms, as if protecting a baby.

  She paused at the elevators and pushed the up button. She waited for what seemed like the longest half minute of her life. She could hear the elevator starting from a floor below. To her right, a large rain streaked window filled the upper half of the outside wall. Had she looked in its direction she would have seen herself in the reflection. She would have seen an attractive young lady of medium height, and in her early thirties. Her long dark brown hair hung loose and long over the shoulders of the light gray raincoat that was fully buttoned up to the neck, hiding her slender body.

  The elevator car rolled to a halt. A clear bell like ding sounded as it arrived. The young lady waited with expectancy and apprehension as the door began to slide open. Her breath caught for a second, and then she let it out with relief as she realized the car was empty, as it should be at this time of night, but considering her presence here and what she had just done, she had dreaded the worst.

  She quickly stepped inside and pushed the button for the fifth floor. She was currently on the second. The door slid shut and the elevator mechanism engaged once again. She felt the slight jolt as the car began to move.

  She waited expectantly for the car to halt at its destination and the door slid open once again. She felt momentary relief as she saw an empty hallway, here on the fifth floor. She stepped out quickly, cast a glance down the length of the hallway, to the right. It was empty. She hustled along the corridor for about twenty feet, where another hallway seemed to branch out to the right. She turned into it and found it was also empty. It was not actually a hallway but an enclosed walkway leading from the medical center building to the main hospital complex. The sound of the drumming rain on the peaked metal roof was magnified in the silence of the night. Rivulets of rainwater streamed down the windowed sides of the walkway, distorting the lights of the night outside. The front of the hospital was brightly lighted and its reflection shimmered in the pools of water, covering the half circle driveway that curved close to the entrance. Through the glass wall to her left, a myriad of distorted city lights dotted the darkness in the distance. To her right, through the glass, she saw tall trees swaying in the whipping wind and shaking spicules of water from their mid fall withering leaves.

  Her pace quickened as she neared the far end of the walkway, where it opened into the hospital wing. Sounds of movement and activity emanated from around the corner. As she emerged from the walkway, she could see a bank of elevators off to her left almost directly in front of her. The elevator doors were painted blue and a plaque on the wall clearly identified them as the ‘Blue Elevators’. Directly above this plaque was a slightly larger one that said ‘Geriatric Wing’. There was a cleaning woman mopping the hallway floor, to her right. Open doored rooms lined the corridor on the far side. And, as the name of the wing indicated, the rooms were all occupied with elderly patients.

  She hurried to the elevator bank and pushed the down button. Again she waited, expectantly, hearing the elevator make its way up the shaft. It came to a halt and the door opened before her. Luck was still with her. It was empty. She hurried inside, pushed the button for floor two; the lobby floor. The door closed and the car started downward. A few seconds later the car stopped on the fourth floor. She knew someone would be getting on. Her heart beat picked up the tempo. She hugged the bag tighter and higher, lowering her head as if she could hide behind it.

  The door slid open and a short, thin, male resident doctor, obviously of Hindu descent, stepped in. He was still in scrubs and a stethoscope hung loosely about his dark skinned neck. He pushed the button for floor one, without even glancing toward the woman. The door slid shut and the car continued. The lighted number above the door indicated passing floor three uneventfully. The car stopped at floor two, which was the main lobby floor. The door slid open once again.

  The woman quickly hurried out into the hallway, keeping her head down, but fully aware that the young resident’s eyes were upon her. She heard the door slide shut behind her and the car continued on as she rounded the corner of the hallway into a long corridor that extended toward the rear of the hospital in one direction and toward the lobby at the front of the hospital, in the other direction. She hurried toward the lobby, the sound of her heels on the corridor floor clicking in her ears and her heart beating a throb to her head.

  The corridor emptied out into the lobby. Lighting was dim this time of night and the lobby was almost empty, save for two patrons keeping a vigil for whoever they had here in the hospital. An elderly man was stretched out on a couch against the far wall to the left. A woman, probably his wife sat slouched in an overstuffed chair. Her head was against the back cushion and the side of her face lolled against the thick fabric. Her eyes were closed. Toward the front of the lobby, near the front doors and off to the left, a small room was filled with bright light. This was the security office. She tried not to look in that direction, but occasionally she cast a furtive glance as she passed the empty reception desk to her right and headed toward the entrance.

  The revolving door sandwiched between the two obligatory stationary doors had obviously been locked for the night, so she hurried toward the door on the right, opened it and stepped into the walkway that ran the entire length of the hospital’s front wall. She jumped with startle as the sliding glass door leading to the drive up circle and front parking lot, outside slid open, activated by an electric eye or motion detector of some sort, before her, letting in a blast of cold wet autumn air. She turned quickly to her right and hurried along the corridor toward the ramp garage that lay beyond the exit door at the end of the walkway. The sliding glass door buzzed shut behind her as she moved away declining to access it.

  Her pace slowed and she almost halted when she heard the voice behind her.” Have a good evening,” the security guard called to her. Trying not to show nervousness, she resumed her pace, fighting the urge to run. The doorway seemed such a long way off and her feet felt heavy as lead. Had the guard seen her plainly enough to remember her? No, she told herself. She had kept her head down. But, could she be sure? Her heartbeat raced even faster and her breathing was tight.

  Then suddenly, she was through the door and stepped into the brightly lit, but shadowed ramp garage. The door closed behind her with an echoing clang. She halted briefly, let out a sigh of relief and caught her breath. Then she hurried out into the almost empty chasm of the ramp garage. Her shoes clicked against the pavement and echoed. The hospital had been built on a hill and the ramp garage extended downward two flights as well as upward for another three.

  She had left her car on the first level and she hurried along the ramp floor as it curved downward. She had just rounded the first curve, when she thought she heard it. She came up short, halting and listening. She looked about and forced herself to look behind her. It must have been her imagination she thought. She started forward again and stopped once more. No. She had not imagined it. She had heard it. It was not just the echo of her footsteps, but the echo of another set of shoes. Heavier a
nd louder than her own. They had sounded when she moved and silenced when she stopped. Someone else was in the garage and he was following her. She quickened her pace and she heard the other footsteps quicken also. She started to run, not even trying to hold back the panic that was overtaking her. Only the sound of her own labored breathing and the clickety clack of her own shoes remained in her ears, drowning out all other sounds and losing track of the following footfalls. To the bottom floor of the ramp she ran, almost stumbling over her own feet. Finally she saw her gray Hyundai parked against the far wall of the garage. It seemed such a long ways away and her leaden legs seemed to move in slow motion until she practically slid into the side of the car door.

  Quickly she fumbled in her purse for her keys. Her heart was pounding loudly in her brain and she panicked as she failed to find the keys at first. Then there they were. Her fingers curled about them and she pulled them feverishly from the bag. Her hands trembled and she dropped the keys. They clinked to the concrete floor. She reached for them almost dropping the bag containing what she had taken from the medical center, but she managed to retain her grasp, while retrieving the keys and trying once more to insert the correct one in the lock.

  Once, twice, she tried and failed, but then she managed to unlock the door. She banged the door against her left knee as she jumped behind the wheel and slammed it shut. Her finger found the automatic lock button and she thrust it forward. The sound of the locks engaging into place assured her she was safe. She breathed a little easier with relief. She checked out the area through each side window. There was no movement about the garage. Perhaps she had been imagining things, she told herself, but she still turned the ignition with an urgency and cranked the engine into life. The tires squealed and echoed loudly within the confines of the garage as she backed out of her parking spot, slammed on the brakes and threw the stick into drive. She wheeled sharply to the left and stomped on the gas. Again the wheels squealed as she sent the vehicle forward at an accelerating speed toward the exit.

  The toll booth was closed as it usually was this time of night and the guard rail gate was up. The Hyundai rolled rapidly through the opening, navigated the winding drive that led down the hill toward the street below. She turned right onto the street and rolled toward the main intersection. There was a stop light here and it was red, but she didn’t want to stop. She flicked on the wipers to clear away the rain and she glanced left and right making sure there was no traffic. She rolled on through the light, twisting the wheel sharply to the left, turning south, then straightening out the wheel as she applied pressure to the accelerator and driving off into the darkness.

  As she approached cruising speed she began to relax. Her breathing began to ease and she felt a sudden rush of relief. Safe. She thought without realizing a shadowy shape was rising from the back seat.

  *****

  Chapter Three