“Exactly my point. However, HBK’s son, the one with the allergy, he had other problems that made his allergy an issue. Lance had a severe phobia to injections, the one thing that could save his life if he was stung by a bee. Lance happened to get stung one time, went into shock and almost died rather than taking the adrenaline injection.
“The phobia wasn’t his only problem though. I guess you could say that Lance’s brain wasn’t wired properly.”
“You said that about Uncle Kane when describing his condition,” Ed said.
“Um, yeah, there’s a reason for that. I’m getting there. Let me finish with Lance first.
“Lance also suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and he couldn’t get the fear of being given an injection out of his mind. He developed all sorts of bizarre rituals to prevent being stung by a bee and receiving an injection.”
“What type of rituals?”
“That’s not important. I’m trying to stick to the important details. Besides, the rituals changed over time. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Anyway, HBK became increasingly disturbed by Lance’s rituals. I was hired to cure him. We cut corners with some of our research methods, but HBK didn’t care as long as it resulted in a cure for Lance. That’s why we used the inhabitants of Vagrant-ville as our research subjects. It was easier to cut corners when using a group of people who weren’t educated, especially in certain related legal issues, such as the informed consent requirement. And if, God forbid, something bad happened, nobody would miss them if they were to . . . disappear.
“It sickens me now to admit it, but we did have some failures . . . vegetables . . . deaths even. I’d convinced myself that the ends justified the means; that sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good of eradicating phobias from the face of the earth. Of course, we never anticipated a patient like Lance.
“Lance was never mentally stable in the first place, and our treatment only made him worse. We were able to cure him of his injection phobia, for the most part anyway, but during the course of his treatment, he was able to teach himself how to, ah, perform our new hypnosis technique.”
“Lance could tap into a person’s subconscious mind?” Ed asked.
“Better than either Trish or myself. It pretty much confirmed that certain people do have an innate ability to hypnotize others. The problem was, Lance equated being cured of his phobia with being reborn. Well, one part of his personality anyway. His mind seemed to split into a dual personality with one personality believing he’d been born again without fear, but with the other personality still acting like a scared child and manifesting certain aspects of the injection phobia. But the dominant personality subsequently developed a new compulsion to help other people become born again, however, Lance triggered such an extreme response in the people he was trying to help that they died of fright.
“It started with random patients in the clinic, but then he escaped to continue his mission to help the rest of the Vagrant-ville residents become born again. Soon, he was traveling throughout the country helping all those who were like his fellow patients in the clinic—hobos, bums, vagrants, derelicts—to become born again.”
“Born again? As in a religious sense?”
“It started out as being reborn without fear, but his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder mutated the compulsion into being born again in a religious manner, like Christ. And, like Christ, he wanted to help the outcasts of society, so the meek could inherit the Earth. He began to believe that only those who were pure of thought were capable of being born again without fear of any worldly matters. It had something to do with the passage in the Bible, John 3:16: ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life’.”
“John three sixteen? Three sixteen!” Ed said, more thinking out loud than speaking to Dr. Austin.
“Yes, Ed, three sixteen. That’s why you wake up from your nightmare at three sixteen every time Lance tries to help someone become born again.”
“How could you possibly know about that?”
“Torrie asked me about a patient with a recurring nightmare that always occurred at three sixteen. I thought it might be important. I put her under and asked for the name of her patient. She never knew that she was hypnotized or that she gave me your name.
“One of Lance’s rituals involves waiting until three sixteen in the morning before helping someone to be born again without fear. Of course, to be born again, you must first leave this earth.”
“So, Lance knows that he’s killing people?”
“In his mind, these people don’t die, they’re reborn again without fear. Lance truly believes he’s helping to cure people.”
“So, where do I fit in? Why do I wake up at three sixteen every time there’s a murder?”
“Um, I don’t know how to tell you this, Ed, but Lance is your uncle.”
“Huh?”
“Kane and Lance are half-brothers. Kane was from HBK’s first marriage, but he was abandoned on a doorstep when HBK married his second wife, Lilian Garcia. Your grandparents adopted Kane and raised him as their own when they found him on their doorstep. I don’t know if Kane ever knew about Lance, but I suspect he did.”
“What happened to Uncle Kane’s mother?”
“She died . . . of natural causes. Lilian wouldn’t marry HBK unless he gave up the other woman’s child.”
“So, Uncle Kane and my father aren’t biologically related?”
“Um, no . . . but, um, the person who raised you as your father isn’t your biological father. Kane is your biological father, but his step-brother, the person you think of as your father, gained custody of you as an infant. You were never supposed to find out.”
Ed was shocked speechless. He sat there with his mouth wide open, staring at Dr. Austin.
“Kane didn’t always live on the streets, but when his wife, ah, your mother, died, he withdrew from society. I think I explained to you before that Kane’s brain is wired differently than most people’s; that he receives too much information . . . too much stimuli when he’s in a normal social situation. Your mother’s death was the impetus for this condition becoming unmanageable.
“Kane had probably lived most of his life with this problem, but something inside him snapped when his wife died, and he was unable to control his condition any longer. It’s similar in certain respects to Lance’s ability to easily hypnotize people. Both Kane and Lance were born with a unique ability that allows them to tune into people and, for lack of a better term, read their emotions better and more accurately than the average person.
“You were obviously born with this capability also and, somehow, Lance is able to send out a mental signal to you when he’s helping people to be born again. It’s on more of a subconscious level though, which is why you only receive these signals when you’re asleep.”
“This is too much to comprehend,” Ed said as he rubbed his temples and stared at the floor in front of him. “Let’s just forget about my parents lying to me for my entire life. And Uncle Kane. Let me just try to focus on all this mumbo-jumbo you’ve thrown at me.
“My mind is somehow connected on some level with my Uncle Lance’s mind? That’s too . . . out there. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Nobody knows exactly how the mind works or what it’s fully capable of, especially in cases where the mind doesn’t function normally, as in Lance’s case-”
“Or mine?” Ed asked.
“Twins have been documented for years as having an ability to know when the other twin has been involved in a traumatic experience even if the twins are separated by several states. But we don’t know how that works. Hell, they’ve even documented cases of prayer by a stranger affecting the healing process in a subject from far away when the subject was unaware of the prayer taking place. Now, I’m not necessarily saying that we’re talking about the same thing here, but it’s something to consider.
&
nbsp; “Lance, Kane and you are related, and all three of you were born with a unique ability to sense things in people that are invisible to most; your brains function differently than others. Is it really that far of a stretch to believe that Lance and you are able to communicate on some subconscious level, especially when Lance has mastered the ability to directly tap into another’s subconscious? It’s an inherited trait that runs in your family in the same way that athletic prowess or intelligence runs in other families, although, in your family’s case, this unique ability isn’t without a downside.
“In Kane, this ability has made it difficult for him to function in normal society due to the amount of unfiltered stimuli he receives from others. In Lance, this ability has manifested itself as various other psychological problems, but also with the capability to directly tap into other people’s subconscious mind. You seem to have this ability to a more limited degree; the ability only functions on a subconscious level when you’re sleeping, but you don’t appear to have any of the social-psychological problems that your father and uncle possess. Your ability to read people was probably what drew you to investigative journalism in the first place.”
“I don’t really know what to believe right now,” Ed mumbled. “Let’s just assume for a minute, for the sake of argument, that you haven’t gone off the deep end and everything you’ve just told me is true. I’m still left with a very troubling question that you haven’t even remotely suggested an answer to. If my, ah, uncle, um, Lance that is, if you knew he was killing people, why didn’t you stop him? At the very least, he should’ve been locked up in a nuthouse for the criminally insane. How could you let so many innocent people die?”
“I’ve often asked myself that very same question through the years,” Dr. Austin said, switching his gaze to the middle of his desk instead of having to look Ed in the eyes. Then, he opened a desk drawer and continued. “I was a lot younger back then, worried about my career, my future. HBK was a very rich and powerful man, and he had Captain King in his back pocket. Do you remember Captain King?”
“J.R. King. Of course.”
“If I’d come clean, I definitely would’ve lost my medical license. That almost happened anyway.”
“How did you survive the inquiry? You told me there was insufficient evidence, but-”
“You’re a smart man, Ed. I’m sure you’ve guessed how I got out of that one and kept the records sealed. Trust your instincts. I don’t really want to talk about that; it doesn’t matter anyway.
“What does matter is that in addition to losing my medical license, I was also afraid of losing my freedom. People died during my research-experiments. I would’ve been held accountable, and HBK would’ve ensured that Captain King had enough evidence to lock me away forever.
“But HBK was more concerned with keeping his son out of trouble. Loyalty to a child can sometimes be blind . . . and stupid. Besides that, I was arrogant. I thought I could find him if I looked hard enough. I searched all over the country for him every chance I got. I thought I could eventually bring Lance back.”
“Bring him back from where?”
“After Lance escaped from my little research facility, I thought he could be captured with the help of the Edge Key Police Department, who were basically controlled by HBK through Captain King. I thought I could bring Lance back to the research facility, and then, bring him back from the edge of insanity, where he’s been living for the past forty years.
“It soon became evident that I would never be able to bring him back, in either respect, but by then, Lance had helped so many people across the country to be born again. Even after HBK, Lilian and Captain King passed away, I still refused to come clean. I was in too deep, and I rationalized in my mind that since Lance was only killing hobos and drifters, it wasn’t . . . that bad a thing.”
“Wasn’t that bad?!” Ed said, horrified that someone could reasonably think such a thing.
“I don’t believe that anymore,” Dr. Austin said, barely above a whisper as he pulled something out of the desk drawer he’d opened a couple of minutes before. “I realize now that I was in denial. That’s why I asked you in here to hear my confession . . . and to beg for forgiveness.”
Before Ed had a chance to further vent his rage, his attention shifted to the object Dr. Austin had pulled out of the desk drawer. “W-What’s with the gun, Dr. Austin?” Ed said hesitantly.
“Will you forgive me, Ed?” Dr. Austin said as he raised the oversized revolver to his head.
“Don’t do it, Doctor! Lance is still out there! He’s got Torrie! We need your help!”
“I’ve been trying to correct my mistake for over thirty years,” Dr. Austin said as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I can’t help anyone anymore. All I can do now is pray for forgiveness. And make things right.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion for Ed, even sound. The shot reverberated throughout the house, briefly followed by an eerie silence that was soon replaced by the sound of doors being kicked in and windows being broken. Ed’s ears were still ringing from the deafening sound of the forty-four caliber round when a half-dozen police officers, guns drawn, swarmed into the library.
“Down! Down! Everybody down!” Ed heard through the fog in his head.
When he didn’t move, Ed was forcibly taken to the ground by at least one officer.
“Captain, we’ve got one down. It appears to be the perp. The other one is shaken, but appears to be unharmed.” Ed heard one of the officers say into a radio.
“Is there a female with them?” Captain Nash replied through the radio.
“Negative. The rest of the house is clear.”
“Oh, shit! Has anyone heard from Bischoff?” Captain Nash said.
CHAPTER 36
“I repeat, Bischoff, come in,” Captain Nash’s voice sounded through the radio. “Be advised that Austin has been taken down, but was alone. We are en route to your position, but use extreme caution. Victim is assumed to be at your location. Do you read, Bischoff? Come back.”
Lance grabbed the police radio off of Bischoff’s belt, being careful not to step in the puddle of blood that was forming around his head from his empty eye sockets.
“It appears that we’re about to have company,” Lance said to Torrie, who was still staring straight ahead into space. “Unfortunately, your boyfriend isn’t coming alone. But what’s done is done. I’ll just have to take care of him at a later date. But you, my dear . . . What to do with you?”
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Lance said to his reflection in the mirror.
“You don’t mean?” Lance answered.
“That is our purpose in life, or have you forgotten?”
“I just thought-”
“You thought nothing. We need to help her. Look at her. We need to remove her fear. You know I’m right.”
“Yes, you’re always right.”
“Ed, stop, I can’t let you go in there,” Captain Nash said while holding onto Ed’s arm.
They were at the HBK mansion within a minute of Captain Nash’s radio call to Bischoff—along with ten police officers—and had found the open door leading to the basement.
“You go in there guns blazing and Torrie’s going to get hurt. He’s my uncle. He won’t harm me, and besides, I think I know his weakness. I’ve already prepared myself a little surprise I picked up from the paramedics at Dr. Austin’s house. I’ll be fine. You owe me this chance to save her for your role in all this.”
Captain Nash released Ed’s arm. “Go,” he said softly.
Ed rushed down the stairs not knowing what would be awaiting him when he got there. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw a mattress lying on the floor, but no one was on it. Ed quickly looked around the room and saw a mirror, a candle and a lifeless body. Ed froze on the body, and he was briefly transported back in time to the alley of his nightmare, especially when he heard the voice.
“Eddie, you did come alone! I’m so happy for this reunion. Tor
rie and I have been waiting for you. I thought we were going to have to leave before you got here, but you arrived quicker than I anticipated, and now we’re all together. It’s so nice to see you again. You do remember our first meeting . . . in the alley?”
Ed had been terrified when he first saw Lieutenant Bischoff’s body—and when the voice first began to speak—but he was now beginning to feel relaxed, a little sleepy even. Fight it! he told himself.
“Uncle Lance, how nice to see you again. I’ve been waiting for this reunion myself. Of course I remember the alley, but I’ve got something out of memory lane for you too. Does this bring back any memories?” Ed said as he brought his arm up to show Lance what he was carrying in his hand.
“T-That doesn’t bother us anymore,” Lance said, but his expression said otherwise. His eyes were wide open, jumping around from point to point in the room as if searching for an exit, until he stopped on his reflection in the mirror.
“Yes it does still bother us! Make it go away!” Lance said to his reflection.
“No, we’ve been born again. We have no fear. Ignore it!” Lance commanded his reflection.
Ed didn’t want the momentum to shift to the dominant personality, and quickly made his move—probably his last opportunity. “Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?” Ed said as he slowly walked towards Lance, holding the syringe out in front of him.
“Stay away from us!” Lance screamed in a high-pitched voice as he let go of Torrie and crouched in the corner.
“It’s time for your medicine,” Ed said as he continued moving towards Lance. “This is probably going to hurt a little, but it’s for your own good.”
“Nooooo!” Lance screamed one final time, and then fell silent, curled up in a fetal position.
“What are you doing with that syringe?” Torrie asked Ed, having snapped out of her trance. “And where are we? The last thing I remember was being in the woods.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Ed said as he dropped the syringe and hugged her as tightly as he could. “I think I’ve finally escaped the alley of my nightmares once and for all.”
The Fringe Dwellers Page 24
