Ed gave Undertaker his number and hung up. Torrie didn’t look too happy. “I guess I should look on the bright side,” she said. “At least I’ve got you trapped here with me until you meet with the coroner.”
“Torrie, if things were different, I’d stay here in a minute. I’m not trapped here, I don’t want to leave and I’m not gone yet, so let’s just enjoy our time together. Who knows what the future will bring.”
The future. Right now, the future seemed pretty scary to Ed. People seemed to be dying all around him. Whatever was going on around here, it seemed to be coming to a head. Hopefully, neither Torrie nor Ed would be caught in the path of destruction Ed felt was coming.
“Okay,” Torrie said, “no more talk about what the future holds for us. We’ll enjoy our time together without worrying about the rest of the world. I do have to get back to work though and you should go visit Uncle Kane. If Dr. Austin does release him today, it’ll probably be harder for you to spend any time with him. Once he gets back on the streets, he might decide to take off for a few months on one of his adventures.”
Or he might be hunted down and found with his eyes clawed out, Ed thought and shivered.
CHAPTER 20
“Hi, Uncle Kane,” Ed said as he walked into Kane’s hospital room.
Torrie had a patient waiting in her office when they returned from lunch, so Ed went directly to Kane’s room and Torrie went back to work. Lunch hadn’t been very enjoyable anyway with all the talk about the future, so Ed was glad it was over. He’d see her later, but the time with Kane would give him a chance to focus on other things.
“Hi, Eddie. How’s my favorite nephew?”
“I’m your only nephew, Uncle Kane.”
“And I’m your only uncle.”
“All that Dad would admit to anyway,” Ed said, smiling at their little ritual. “How’re you doing today?”
“Better than ever. I just hope that croaker lets me go soon. I’m goin’ bonkers in here. The food’s awful, the bed’s too soft and if I get pricked by one more needle, I’m takin’ someone out!
“But enough about me. Did you find Tazz?”
“I did, but he wasn’t too helpful. It’s like he was scared of something. He basically told me to forget the whole thing and he took off.”
“Hmm. That don’t sound like Tazz at all. That son-bitch ain’t a-scared of nuthin’. I’ll tell ya what, Eddie. When that croaker lets me outta here, we’ll go see him together. He may not wanna talk to you, but he damned sure will talk to me.”
“There’s something else, Uncle Kane. Another body was found last night.”
“Another one?! Jesus Christ! Who was it?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s got me worried.”
“Go get that croaker, Austin. I’m getting’ outta this joint,” Kane said as he sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “We’ll go find Tazz and get to the bottom of this.”
“I don’t think Tazz is going to be much help,” Torrie said as she walked into the room. “They found him this morning. Tazz is dead.”
“It was Tazz?!” Ed and Kane said simultaneously.
“You knew about this?” Torrie asked.
“I knew a body’d been found. Undertaker told me, but I didn’t know who it was,” Ed said to Torrie. “What do we do now?” he asked Kane.
“I dunno,” Kane said as he stared at the floor in shock.
“Why don’t you read this letter he wrote?” Torrie said as she handed him several folded pieces of paper. “He left it for you, Eddie. Hulk dropped it off. That’s who was waiting for me in my office. He said he found the letter in one of Tazz’s secret hiding places that only a few people know about.”
“What’s it say?” Ed asked.
“I haven’t read it,” Torrie said. “It was addressed to you. I thought we should read it together. Maybe if we all put our heads together, we can make some sense out of what’s going on.”
“There ain’t no sense to be made outta none of this,” Kane said.
“Maybe there is,” Ed said. “Torrie, please close that door. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping while I read this letter.”
Torrie closed the door while Ed looked at the letter. There were several pages folded in half. Written on the outside was a note: “For Kane’s nephew.” Ed opened the letter and began to read it out loud.
Nothing I write here will probably be believed by no one, but I wanted to get all this down on paper after talking to Kane’s nephew in case I wind up dead. The past few days, I’ve had a bad feeling. Now I know why. Kane ain’t crazy and neither am I. There is something out there hunting us. I don’t know how long it’s been around, but I first felt its presence about the same time that Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish opened that clinic of theirs. I don’t know if the bodies—I think you know which bodies I’m talking about—or the clinic appeared first, but I do know that they’re connected somehow.
Even Kane don’t know this, but I spent some time in that clinic in the sixties with Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish, undergoing extreme therapy as they called it. I can’t go into too much detail because of my secrecy oath, but I’ve been afraid of small places ever since I got out of the service. Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish promised me they could help me get over my fears. It was all a big lie! I was worse off when I finally got out of there than before I ever went in.
I don’t remember everything, but I’ll tell you what I do remember from when I was there. When they first started, it all seemed normal enough. I had all sorts of sessions with Dr. Austin. He told me that it was so he could get to the root of my problem. I don’t remember too much about what I said during those sessions, but I remember that I never broke my oath to the government—at least as far as I know. I think Dr. Austin hypnotized me during some of them sessions because there were times that hours passed where I didn’t remember nothing.
After that, the sessions with Dr. Austin stopped. Then, that Nurse Trish started feeding me all sorts of drugs. I don’t know what drugs they were giving me, but I can tell you that I ain’t never got that messed up on booze no matter how much I happened to be drinking—even straight shine. This is where everything gets real hazy. I remember being put into a dark room, but I don’t know if the room was real or not. There were these movies that they played in that room, at least, I think they were movies. It could have all been movies in my head. I’m not real sure.
Now, I told you that the reason I went in there was because I was scared of small, cramped places. These movies, or whatever they were, showed all sorts of cramped places from elevators to caves to prison cells. I remember there was some sort of sound with these movies—it was some sort of whispering—but I can’t remember nothing specific that was said. I don’t remember how many days in a row they showed me these movies, but I remember every once in a while being wheeled through the halls on a stretcher and seeing other people—dead people—being wheeled through the halls. None of those people had their eyes! It looked like they’d been ripped out! That’s all I remember about them people. I never knew then what killed them, but now I think it’s the same thing that’s after me.
After what seemed like weeks, I don’t remember them showing me any more movies, but I think they was actually putting me into these small places instead of just showing me movies about being there. I can’t be sure of that, but that’s how I remember it. That whispering from the movies continued though—and it got louder. Every night I went to sleep, I had nightmares about being locked in a little dark room.
I ain’t never been so scared in all my life as when I was in that clinic. I forget exactly how I escaped that place, but I do know that I escaped—they didn’t let me go. I think they would’ve killed me if I stayed there, but somehow, I was able to get away. For a long time after that though, I could feel something searching for me. I had nightmares about it. I even left Edge Key, but it didn’t matter. I was being hunted. I’m sure of it.
That feeling went away for the most part when they
closed the clinic, but every once in a while, it would come back stronger than ever. It’s back now and I’m scared. The nightmares have even started up again, which means that thing must be back too—hunting me. I don’t think I’m going to get away this time.
This is everything I can remember. I don’t know if any of this will help, but I hope someone can put a stop to this. I’ve been afraid for too much of my life. Nobody should have to live their life in fear. Good luck and stay safe.
“That’s all it says,” Ed said as he turned the letter over in his hands. “Can you make anything out of this, Torrie?”
“Parts of it, I think,” she said while holding her hand out for the letter. Ed handed it to her and she skimmed through it. “For years, the primary therapy used to treat phobias was a procedure called systematic desensitization. In a nutshell, the patient uses a combination of relaxation techniques and imagery to gradually weaken his or her anxiety to the specific phobia. The problem with this technique was that there’s often a huge difference between being able to face a phobia in your mind and facing a phobia in real life.
“The current trend in treating phobias is a procedure called exposure therapy. This technique is similar to building up an immunity to the phobia. The patient is gradually exposed to the phobia in controlled situations until the anxiety to the phobia is either diminished to the point where it’s no longer a problem or outright eliminated. Under both systematic desensitization and exposure therapy, it’s the patient who basically controls the level or speed of exposure to the phobia.
“Back in the sixties, there was another procedure that was tried. It was called implosion or flooding. Under this procedure, the therapist controls the rate of exposure to the therapy instead of the patient. It’s an intense experience, kind of like throwing someone into the deep end of the pool to teach them how to swim. The patient is given maximum exposure to the phobia so that he or she experiences the highest level of anxiety possible.”
“That’s sadistic!” Ed said.
“Now you know why I hate all you croakers,” Kane said.
“There was a point to this form of therapy,” Torrie said. “The aim was for the patient to experience the worst fear possible to prove that the phobia could not only be survived, but that the phobia had no effect on the patient. Unfortunately, we found that in some cases, the trauma could actually cause other problems such as nightmares.”
“Beautiful,” Ed said. “The cure’s worse than the disease.”
“Well, that’s why implosion has been pretty much discounted,” Torrie said. “As far as I know, it’s no longer used. But that sounds like the type of therapy that Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish were using back in the sixties.”
“What about the drugs?” Ed asked.
“Even in the sixties,” Torrie said, “we knew that certain tricyclic antidepressants and MAO inhibitors could help relieve symptoms of anxiety. Those drugs also have side effects, such as drowsiness, that are consistent with Tazz’s description. Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish might’ve been using some combination of these drugs to help cure their patients.”
“I know I don’t know that much about the subject,” Ed said, “but that doesn’t make any sense to me. If the goal of the therapy is to, ‘throw the patient into the deep end,’ as you put it, why would you give them drugs to alleviate their anxiety level? Wouldn’t you want to increase their anxiety level regardless of the discomfort to the patient?”
“I guess that’s possible,” Torrie said. “I remember reading something about certain types of chemicals that can actually produce panic attacks in people who’re susceptible to them. If I remember correctly, sodium lactate is one of those chemicals; caffeine is another. So, theoretically at least, it is possible to prescribe a drug that would induce a panic attack or increase a patient’s anxiety level. I’ve never heard of any type of therapy like that though.”
“That doesn’t mean Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish weren’t engaged in some form of experimental type of therapy like that,” Ed said.
“The problem with that logic is that there’re all sorts of legal and ethical procedures that must be adhered to when you’re involved in any type of experimental therapy,” Torrie said. “Informed consent is the main thing that jumps out in my mind. How are you going to convince a patient to undergo a treatment like that if they tell you they’re not only going to purposely scare the hell out of you, but they’re going to give you drugs that’ll really push you over the edge?!”
“Maybe that’s why they were only dealing with the residents of Vagrant-ville,” Ed said. “No offense to Uncle Kane here, but I’d be willing to bet that most people who live on the streets aren’t up to date on the legal or ethical obligations of experimental therapies. That’s assuming any of them knew they were undergoing anything experimental at all!”
“Okay, I get your point,” Torrie said, “but there’s a big piece of the puzzle missing here.”
“Like what?” Ed said.
“What about that creature who hunts us down and sucks out our life-force,” Kane asked. “That ain’t no legend. I told you before that I’ve heard of bodies scattered all over the country. What do Austin and Trish have to do with that?”
Both Ed and Torrie looked over at Kane. They’d almost forgotten he was there because he’d been quiet for so long. Ed thought about everything that was said over the past few minutes. He concluded that both Torrie and Kane were right. There was a big piece of the puzzle missing and that piece had something to do with all of these mysterious deaths.
“I don’t know,” Ed finally said in answer to Kane’s question. Torrie didn’t say a word. “What I do know is that as soon as I figure out what the connection is between the deaths and this clinic, I’ve got my story.”
“Your God-damn story!” Torrie yelled. “Is that all you ever think about?!” She was on the verge of tears.
“No, of course not,” Ed said and gently put his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off.
“She’s right, Eddie,” Kane said. “You’ve got more to worry about than some stupid story. There’s sumthin’ out there huntin’ people—sucking the life-force outta them. You better worry about your own skin—as well as that little lady of yours’s. If you ain’t alive, it won’t make no difference what you’ve figured out because you won’t be alive to write the story. You don’t wanna go off half-cocked and wind up as buzzard bait. You gotta be careful, Eddie. Be smart about this.”
It was probably the best advice Uncle Kane had ever given Ed. “You’re right, I do have to be smart about this,” Ed said. “But part of being smart is to figure out what I’m up against. Torrie, can you come with me to meet with Undertaker? Maybe with the three of us putting our heads together, we can make some sense out of all of this.”
“Yeah, I’ll go,” Torrie said. “At least it’ll give me some more time with you.”
“Great,” Ed said. “Uncle Kane, I know that you’re not going to like this, but I’d like for you to remain here at the clinic.”
“No way, no how!” Kane said. “As soon as-”
“Uncle Kane,” Ed interrupted, “I need to be able to find you if I come up with some more questions. It’s important. Please stay here. If you’re on the streets, I’ve got no way to track you down.” And it’s probably safer here, Ed thought, but didn’t say.
“Fine,” Kane said, sounding aggravated. “I’ll stay put . . . but only because you’re my favorite nephew.”
“I’m your only nephew, Uncle Kane.”
“And I’m your only uncle.”
“All that Dad would admit to anyway,” Ed said with a pained smile on his face. He feared that after all this was over, he might not have an uncle any more. That thought was interrupted when Kane’s door flew open.
“Patient’s doors are to remain open at all times while visitors are present,” Nurse Trish announced as she propped the door open. “We need to observe our patients at all times.”
Ed could’ve sworn Nurse T
rish gave Uncle Kane a menacing look when she said “observe.” Since neither Torrie nor Uncle Kane seemed to have noticed, he decided to leave without saying anything to Uncle Kane. The look worried Ed, but he still felt Uncle Kane was safer here than on the streets.
CHAPTER 21
“Fear always springs from ignorance.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ed went back to Torrie’s house after Uncle Kane promised to remain in the hospital. Torrie went back to her office. She still had work to do, although it was going to be pretty difficult to concentrate on anything at this point. Torrie sat in her office for awhile, randomly skimming through patient files, but she wasn’t being very productive. She thought about leaving early, until someone knocked on her office door.
“Come in,” Torrie said to the door, thankful for the distraction.
“Hi,” Dr. Austin said as he walked through the door. “I had some free time, so I came by to finish the discussion.” Torrie looked at him strangely. “The one about your patient with the recurring dream.”
“Oh, yeah,” Torrie said. She’d been so focused on the conversation with Ed and Uncle Kane that she’d forgotten asking Dr. Austin about Ed’s dreams. “If I remember correctly, you said that the key to understanding a recurring nightmare is to figure out what the patient is afraid of.”
“Exactly,” said Dr. Austin. “Often, the patient’s fear can be gleaned from the dream itself. I don’t think you told me what the dream was about. That might help. Tell me what you know about this nightmare.”
Torrie hesitated. She was concerned about giving Dr. Austin any information about Ed, especially if there was a connection between the deaths and him. After mulling it over for a few seconds, she reconsidered. If Torrie didn’t tell Dr. Austin who was having the nightmares, then it shouldn’t do any harm and she might be able to help Ed escape the alley once and for all.
The Fringe Dwellers Page 16
