The Tenth Ward

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The Tenth Ward Page 14

by Rockwell Scott


  “I told you, Rand. Many people in the hospital are experiencing things now. Whatever you saw in the morgue is getting stronger.”

  The curtain pulled open again, but this time it wasn’t the doctor. It was a woman that Rand had never seen before, dressed in a brown pantsuit and her chestnut hair tied in a bun on the back of her head. She did not seem at all pleased to see him. Rand glanced at Harold, who looked at the newcomer with astonishment, which told Rand this lady was not on the same page. “Mr. Casey?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  She took one step into the room and lifted his wrist. Someone had placed a white hospital wristband on him, stating his name and date of birth.

  “I need a word with you, Mr. Casey, if we could have some privacy.”

  “I don’t want to keep secrets from friends.” Rand didn’t like the intense and abrupt way in which the lady had conducted herself so far. She reminded him of Tessa’s mother.

  “I insist,” she said. “Or, if you prefer, we could go ahead and call the police.”

  24

  Katie eyed him, and Rand nodded. She stood and left. In that moment, he wished he still had access to Bill’s open bar. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

  “That will be all, Harold. Thank you,” the woman said. “You can return to your post.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Once they were alone, the woman pulled up the chair Katie had occupied. “My name is Fiona Shaw. I’m the director of the children’s ward here at St. Mary’s.”

  Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her cold blue eyes pierced him with a hard gaze. Rand figured all her subordinates cowered underneath that stare.

  “Randolph Casey,” he said, struggling to sit up on the stretcher. “My friends call me Rand. Religious Studies professor at—”

  “I know who you are, Mr. Casey,” Fiona said. “And what you do.”

  “Ah. A fan.” He tried his best charming smile, but it did nothing to melt Fiona’s frozen exterior.

  “Hardly. I’ll make this quick. After Dr. Carter has assembled your discharge papers, you will leave St. Mary’s and not come back.”

  “Isn’t that always the hope when one leaves the hospital?”

  “Mr. Casey, I am very serious. I have added you to the blacklist and you are now banned from this facility. Your name has been distributed to all security and staff, and if you ever show your face here again the police will be called, and you will be arrested.”

  For the first time, Rand frowned. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m doing what is best for this hospital and the patients.”

  He paused and met her gaze for a long time. She did not budge, as if they were playing a staring game. “And what is it you think I did to deserve this?”

  “You are responsible for exacerbating rumors that this facility is ‘haunted.’ ” She spat the word as if it tasted bad. “That is not true, and continuing assertions that it is cannot go on. We have lost too many staff members over these crazy tales, and more importantly, should news of this ever get out, it would be very detrimental to the institution. St. Mary’s is known in the community as a faith-based healing center with a strong Catholic support system. We can’t have the staff thinking ghosts are running around the place.”

  “Are you a practicing Catholic?” Rand asked. For the first time, Fiona Shaw let her rock solid shield slip. But only for a moment. Rand took her reaction as a yes. “And you believe in spirits and demons, don’t you?”

  “This has nothing to do with me.”

  “It has everything to do with your hospital. Your healing center. Your patients are being tormented by a demonic entity. It has attached itself to Georgia Collins.”

  “Enough, Mr. Casey. You sound like a crazy person.”

  But Rand could see how her eyes darted when he’d said the D-word. Saw the way her hands wrung in her lap.

  “I’m here to help you. And Georgia.”

  “Myself and the other directors have already discussed it. If Georgia Collins and her family keep spreading these rumors or engaging in this activity, we’ll have to relocate her to a more appropriate place to continue her treatment.”

  “What? That’s not fair. You can’t punish her for this.”

  “This isn’t punishment. It’s protection for all the patients.”

  “Don’t do this,” Rand said. “I get it, you have a hospital to run. But you’re letting your job get in the way of your better judgment.” Fiona Shaw looked away again. “I’m the only one who can help you. If you don’t address this now, it will only get worse. You already told me you know who I am and what I do, so trust me.”

  Fiona Shaw eyed him hard for what seemed like an eternity. Then she stood and pulled the curtain aside. “I’ll check with Dr. Carter and see what’s taking him so long with the discharge papers. Remember what I told you, Mr. Casey. I’d hate for us to have an incident in the future.”

  Rand fell back onto the stretcher and rubbed at his eyes. The headache wouldn’t go away and fatigue coursed through every inch of his body. He knew he needed to sleep, but he also wouldn’t be able to until the job was done.

  The job, which had gotten much more difficult now that he was no longer allowed inside St. Mary’s. Rand was accustomed to getting kicked out of places, but this time his banishment was dangerous to others. Without him, Georgia Collins was vulnerable. And since the demon was out of hiding, his attacks would only become more vicious.

  Shindael.

  When the doctor returned, Rand snatched up the discharge papers and didn’t wait around to hear what he had to say.

  Katie and Georgia met him in the waiting room. “Who was that lady?” Katie asked.

  “We need to make a plan, and now,” Rand told her. “We don’t have much time.”

  25

  Rand wobbled down the hall on rubbery legs, the feeling still having not fully returned to his body. Aches and pains lingered with him, and Fiona Shaw’s banishment had been the final kick to put him down.

  But he would not lose hope.

  “A demon,” Georgia said as she and Katie followed behind him. He was limping, like an injured fighter after a beating, and they kept pace with him patiently. “So, you’re saying it wasn’t Thomas at all.”

  “No,” Rand said. “You were never talking with your friend.”

  The hospital was starting to wake up. Night-shift nurses were on the way out, looking tired and haggard. The early visitors had appeared, and The Coffee Bean was brewing the day’s first batch. A pleasant smell wafted down the corridor, but the thought of having a coffee only made Rand’s stomach churn.

  “But… it looked just like him.”

  “They can imitate well,” Rand said. “But never perfectly. There is always some kind of flaw.” Rand remembered the gashed-open spinal cord from the morgue.

  “Now that you mention it,” Georgia said. “I could never see his legs. When he appeared, he seemed invisible from the waist down. But why pretend to be Thomas?”

  “To gain your trust.”

  “And after that?”

  Rand halted when he walked by the chapel. The door was open, and the inside was dark, like a portal to a different holy dimension within the hospital. And in that moment, Rand felt its strong draw.

  “That’s the chapel,” Georgia said. “Remember? We passed by it the first day you came.”

  “Are you going in?” Katie asked, concerned. She knew how every time he encountered the demonic, the only thing he wanted to do afterward was get into the presence of God.

  “Yeah. I have to.”

  “Didn’t take you for a big man of faith, Ghost Man,” Georgia said.

  “It’s something I have to do. I’ll be in touch with you later, okay? Keep your phone charged.”

  “Am I in, like, a lot of trouble?”

  “You’re in danger,” Rand told her bluntly.

  Georgia chewed her lip. “Can you help me?”

  “Yes, but first I n
eed to prepare. Then I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  “But they banned you.”

  “Does that seem like the kind of thing that’ll stop me?”

  “Good point, Ghost Man. Just please don’t forget about me here. I’m officially scared now.” She fist-bumped him and walked away, rolling her oxygen tank behind her.

  “Nice girl,” Katie said when she was gone. “Now I see why you’re so serious about helping her.”

  “So when I come back, will you join me?”

  “I have to,” Katie said. “This one seemed to take a lot out of you. It’s a powerful presence, and you can’t do it by yourself. Or maybe you’re just getting old.”

  “I’ve never felt anything like it before,” Rand said, trying to keep the memory from surfacing again. The presence alone had been so intense it may have killed him if Harold hadn’t come for him. “This shouldn’t take long,” he said, pointing a thumb at the chapel. “Wait for me in the coffee shop—have breakfast or whatever. Then I’ll bring you home.”

  “You want anything?”

  “The last thing I want right now is to eat.” He placed a hand over his belly, which felt like he had ingested a large stone.

  Inside, the chapel resembled a miniature Catholic church. There were pews on either side of the aisle, five on each. At the back was an altar, a table, and a wall-mounted crucifix with Jesus looking down over the sanctuary.

  No one had stopped by for morning prayers, giving Rand a welcome solace. The room was colder than the hallway outside and had a pleasant smell of finished wood. Stained-glass windows along the sides depicted Bible scenes. The lights were pleasantly dim in the early hours.

  Rand limped down the aisle and sat on the front pew, looking up at the cross and the statue of Jesus.

  Rand’s involvement with religion had always been complicated. He’d been raised Catholic by a strict mother, lapsed in high school, and forgotten all about it until he’d gotten involved in his current line of work. Now, his relationship with God was strained. He wondered why, if God was all powerful, he allowed the demons to torment innocent people. Surely with a wave of his hand, he could eradicate them forever. Still, he chose not to. His own life had been irreparably altered. This left him angry at God, but whenever he encountered the demonic, as he had a few hours ago, nothing felt right until he fell before the Lord and sanctified himself.

  That made him feel like a hypocrite who only needed God when he faced true evil and thought he could handle all other problems on his own.

  But Rand owned that completely. He had seen the minions of hell. After that, it seemed benign to pray about anything else that happened in his life.

  “There is evil here,” Rand whispered to the statue in prayer. “Give me the strength needed to save this girl and her family. I ask that you help me help her.”

  Although he was experienced, Rand always experienced self-doubt when going head to head with the demonic. There was no force on earth more unpredictable.

  “Good morning.”

  The strong voice startled him from behind, interrupting his prayer. Rand stood and turned. There, he faced an older man who wore a black suit and a white clerical collar around his neck.

  “Good morning,” Rand said.

  The man strolled down the aisle, appraising him. Rand got the feeling that the priest knew who he was.

  “Do you know me?” Rand asked.

  “No,” he said. “But I know what you are.”

  The headache still lingered in the base of his skull. “A lot of people have been telling me that. I’m worried that it’ll soon go to my head.”

  “People talk in this hospital. You come to visit Georgia Collins, and I’m aware of the things she’s been seeing. It’s been a long time since she’s come down to Mass.”

  “I’ll remind her that going to Mass is highly recommended during times like this.” He held out his hand. “Randolph Casey. Friends call me Rand.”

  The priest clasped it, almost too tight, as if he’d been desperate for another human’s touch. “Father Calvin. I understand the family brought you in because of the ghost stories.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that you did indeed find a ghost.”

  “I wish,” Rand said. “What I found was worse. A distinguished man of God such as yourself should know what I’m talking about.”

  Father Calvin only stared at him, a hardness coming across his face like a shield going up.

  “She needs you,” Rand said.

  “I cannot help her.” He looked away.

  “You must have sensed what was here long before I ever came. Felt it.”

  “I don’t feel much of anything these days,” Father Calvin said. “My job is here in the chapel.”

  “The real job will never be just inside this chapel. And you know it.”

  “I don’t meddle with such things anymore,” Calvin said. “I did once in my youth, and it was then that I learned I am not strong enough.”

  “You are responsible for these patients,” Rand said. “There must be something you can do.”

  Calvin looked at him for a long while, hard and silent. “Let’s speak frankly, then. You are talking about an exorcism.”

  “Yes. This hospital is infested with a demonic spirit. It seems anchored to the tenth ward, specifically—drawn there. It’s grown stronger over time, and now that I’ve come and challenged it directly, it will only become more dangerous.”

  “I cannot help you,” Calvin said.

  “Why?”

  Calvin sat down in the pew, as if he were suddenly too weak to stand. “Twenty years ago, I assisted in an exorcism. It was the only one I have ever been involved with. It was a little girl possessed by a demon named…” He trailed off. “No. I will not name him. But I will never forget the name, or the face of the girl as it invaded her body. He beat her and broke her, pulled out her hair, scarred her. The vulgarities and blasphemies that came out of her mouth were unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It took four full days of constant fighting to cast that monster out of her. After that, I knew I could never do it again. It was just too much. I was so weak, so demoralized. For days afterwards, I had dreams of hanging myself, or jumping off the roof of a tall building. I decided that kind of work was not for me, yet I felt horrible, because it seemed it was the highest calling of any man of God. Here I was, content to sit inside a confession booth or give sermons on Sundays. Meanwhile, the real God-fearing men were out there tackling true evil.” Calvin looked up at him, and Rand got the impression he was the only one to have ever heard this tale. “But what could I do? I tried once, and it nearly forced me to end my own life. I am not carved from stone like those other priests. God did not give me the same constitution, and surely he would not require it from all of his devoted disciples.”

  Rand sat in the pew across the aisle. He felt for the man—truly did. He remembered his first brush with the demonic, all those years ago. He’d gone through the same trauma, the same pain, and had come out on the other side as a changed person. He’d known he could no longer go through life ignoring the evil that lurked in the corners of the most innocent and unsuspecting places.

  “How did you pull through?” Rand asked.

  “Through the grace of God alone.”

  “So you’re okay sitting back and watching the demonic encroach on your territory? On your patients and your flock?”

  Father Calvin said nothing. Only looked at the floor between his feet.

  “Would you try again? For Georgia and her family?”

  “I don’t know what I’m willing to do anymore,” Calvin said. “I’ve considered that maybe there is nothing we can do. That things will happen as they may, without our control.”

  “Isn’t that called God’s plan?”

  “Yes, if you’re the cynical type. I’ve seen so many patients come and go in this hospital. Some walk out, some never leave. No matter what prayers I say, very little seems to get answered in the way we ask. So what’s
the point? Maybe there really is no one listening.”

  “Now is not the time to lose faith,” Rand said, although he felt ridiculous saying it. At the best of times, his own belief was about as solid as a house of cards, something he only cashed in on during situations of desperate need.

  “No one chooses to lose their faith, Rand. So I imagine the timing is even more out of our control.”

  It was hard for Rand to argue. Watching patients die after praying so earnestly for their healing had to take its toll. Such were the mysteries of God, though. Some lived while others died. Some walked and others were crippled. And all the while, inhuman evil spirits ran wild on his flock.

  Rand stood from the pew. “I’m coming back soon. When I do, I will remove this spirit from this place. The more people we have fighting for Georgia, the better. I hope I can count on you to join and that you can muster up enough faith for this. It could be the biggest battle of your life.”

  Father Calvin’s face was heavy and sad as he frowned. He looked like he wanted to say something, but just couldn’t find the words.

  26

  The bell jingled over the door when Rand walked in.

  The used bookshop was in disarray. Boxes of paperbacks were open and resting in the walkways, big cardboard tripping hazards. Other stacks of books weren’t in boxes at all, but piled on the tables and the floor and even by the cash register. A thin layer of dust lingered in the air, tickling Rand’s nose and threatening to make him sneeze.

  He made his way to the counter while stepping over the boxes, making him walk like he was in quicksand. Something crashed to the ground in the closet behind the counter, and someone muttered a curse.

  “What’s the point of having the bell over the door if you ignore it?” Rand said.

  “What’s the point of shouting at me when you can clearly see—oh.” Miller stuck his head out and finally saw who had entered his stop. “Rand Casey, the one and only.” Miller dropped whatever he was holding with a crash and dusted his hands off as he walked out of the closet. “I didn’t know you were coming so soon.”

 

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