Asylum: The Complete Series (All 8 Books)

by Amy Cross

  "Whatever," my father says, interrupting me. "It's time to do some real work. Trust me, it'll be good for you. Most kids have started working way before their eighteenth birthday. It's my fault for cutting you too much slack. You've got no idea how privileged you've been so far, but a dose of work in the real world is going to set you straight. Now get moving. You don't want to be late on your first day".

  "Fine," I say, getting out of the car and slinging my back-pack over my shoulder. With rain pouring all around, I turn back to face him. "Good night," I say sourly. "Sleep well in your big, comfortable bed while your daughter toils away in a retirement home for minimum wage".

  "I'll pick you up at 8am," he says, pulling the door shut. I step back and watch as the car pulls away, and then I turn and hurry along the driveway that leads to Crestview's main entrance. I'd never realized how big this place is, but I can see now that there are darkened sections leading off in both directions. Reaching the door, I find that it's locked, so I ring the bell and wait, sheltering under a small awning. Glancing over at a nearby window, I stare at the darkness and suddenly realize there's a person in there, watching me. A shiver runs down my spine, but moments later I hear a key being turned in the lock and I turn to see a middle-aged bald man opening the door.

  "Juliet Collier?" he says, not looking particularly enthusiastic as he checks his watch. "Right on time. Come on in".

  Chapter One

  Today

  "You'll have to excuse me for just a minute," the man says as he re-locks the door behind us. "First, though, here's your first lesson". He slides the second lock across. "Always keep the external doors and windows fastened. Some of the residents can be a little flighty, and if one of them wanders off, we could have a huge problem on our hands, especially when the weather's so bad". He secures the third and final lock, before turning to me. "Do you know what our main job is here at Crestview?"

  "Caring for people?" I ask tentatively.

  "Avoiding lawsuits," he says flatly. "Lawsuits from litigious families. If one of the residents got outside in a storm like this, we could be sued for millions". He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in before holding out a hand. "My name's Charles Taylor, by the way. We spoke on the phone. I'm the manager of Crestview".

  "Hi," I say, forcing myself to smile as I shake his cold, clammy hand. "Juliet Collier".

  "Nice to meet you, Juliet," he continues. "Take a seat and I'll be with you in just a minute. I have a couple of pieces of paperwork to finish". With that, he turns and heads into a nearby office, leaving me to wander through to what turns out to be a high-ceilinged reception area with a bunch of sofas arranged around a small coffee table. The first thing I notice about the place is how warm it is, but I guess that's because old people get cold easily; the second thing I notice is that there are three dark corridors running off in various directions, which I assume must be three of the four wards. I suppose the lights are low since it's late and the old people are in bed, but as I sit down on one of the sofas, I can't help feeling a little overcome by the hushed silence of the place.

  After a few minutes of glancing around the room, I pick up a magazine from the coffee table and start flicking through the pages. It's all about plants, which I guess is what people like to read about in a place like this. Spotting a plant next to the sofa, I reach over and feel the leaves, finding that it's made of plastic. The old people probably don't even notice; I suppose they're not the most observant types. Putting the magazine down, I glance along one of the dark corridors and suddenly realize that there's someone at the far end, standing in the darkness and staring in my direction. I can't make out his or her features, and I guess it's just one of the residents up and about. Still, it feels a little creepy.

  "Hi," I say, waving meekly.

  "Okay, Juliet," says Charles as he emerges from his office. "Let's go and find your colleague for the night and so she can give you a quick run-down of your duties". He leads me away from the reception area and along one of the corridors. "I have to leave in five minutes," he explains, clearly in a hurry, "but Lizzie's a great worker, she'll show you the ropes". We reach a junction in the corridor and Charles looks left and right before sighing and taking a phone from his pocket. "Just a minute," he mutters as he pulls up a number and dials. After a moment, he puts the phone away. "I guess she's busy with a patient," he says. "Come on, let me show you the rec room".

  He leads me into a small, warm room with a number of chairs spread around, all of them facing a TV in the corner. So far, this place is kind of disorientating. All the long, darkly lit corridors seem to be the same, and I already feel as if I'm lost in some kind of warm, plastic labyrinth.

  "This is the recreation room for the green ward," Charles explains. "Each of the wards has a room like this, so the residents can gather and socialize. It's important that they don't just sit in their bedrooms and wither away, you know? We need to keep their minds active, or they can end up sinking into lethargy and from there it's a short trip to the grave. Anyway, I think Lizzie might be on the red ward, so let's go and find her".

  As we hurry along another corridor, I see a set of double-doors off to one side, with a large padlock over the handles and some tape down the middle. I pause for a moment and take a look through the small window, seeing a brightly-lit but deserted corridor; it looks just like the rest of the corridors, except that the lights are on full and the padlock on the door suggests someone really doesn't want anyone going in there. I give the door a gentle tug, but it's firmly secured.

  "That ward's not in use," Charles says, putting an arm around my shoulder and steering me away. "Come on, we have to find Lizzie, I should have left already".

  Adjusting my backpack, I follow him to the red ward, which turns out to be just as dark and empty as the green ward.

  "Huh," Charles says, trying to call Lizzie again but still having no luck. "This kind of thing happens sometimes, Juliet. The night shift tends to be fairly uneventful, but occasionally something happens that requires your attention. Lizzie's probably helping one of our residents. The important thing, though, is to make sure you answer your phone if it's at all possible. As the night progresses, you need to make an effort to stay in touch with your colleague". He sighs. "Okay, we're clearly not going to be able to find Lizzie before I leave, so let me find you something to do".

  "Sure," I say under my breath, already feeling overwhelmed.

  "Take a look around this rec room," he continues, checking his watch again. "If you find anything that needs cleaning, give it a wipe". He opens a small cupboard to reveal a set of cleaning supplies. "I don't really know what's in here, but I'm sure you'll find something. Just make sure you don't leave anything out that someone could trip over, okay? I promise you, Lizzie will be through very soon to go over your duties with you, but the basics are pretty simple. You're here to support the trained medical professional who's on duty, but the most important thing is that you remember that you yourself have no training and therefore can't provide direct medical care. You're just an assistant. A night girl. Once again, we're in danger of a major lawsuit if an untrained worker attempts to perform medical duties, so if you're ever in any doubt, always ask Lizzie, okay?"

  "Totally," I say, starting to feel that this place is a kind of fly-by-night operation. I guess I'm just the dogsbody, hired to carry things and clean up after the residents.

  "There are some forms you have to sign," he continues, "but Lizzie can get you to do that in the office before you leave. Okay, I have to head off, but just hang on in here for a few minutes and I'll make sure Lizzie comes through. Don't worry, she's one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet. You'll be fine". Checking his watch again, he hurries to the door. "Just work hard and use your common sense, Juliet, and you'll have no problems. Welcome to the team!" With that, he runs off down the corridor, and I stand alone for a moment, just listening to his footsteps racing away. After a moment, I hear him speaking to someone on the phone; it sounds like h
e's telling someone he'll be late to meet them at a restaurant.

  "Okay," I say quietly to myself, turning to look around the low-lit room. All around me, there's nothing but silence and emptiness. It's as if I've been dumped in the middle of a large building and just left to get on with whatever work I can find, which isn't exactly how I expected to start my first shift here at Crestview. Walking over to the cupboard, I pull out a duster and a container of spray-polish, and figure I might as well do a little light cleaning. If this Lizzie woman is going to show up eventually, I might as well look busy when she arrives. I set my backpack down on a nearby chair, turn the lights up so I can see what I'm doing, and start running the duster along the top of the TV. The place is thick with dust, so I guess no-one's been in here to clean for a while.

  Reluctantly, I start giving the room a proper clean, occasionally glancing up to see if there's any sign of Lizzie. After an hour, I'm still cleaning and I'm still alone. Suddenly, however, I hear a shuffling noise in one of the nearby corridors; pausing for a moment, I hear it again, and I realize there's definitely someone nearby. When the shuffling noise continues, I realize it sounds as if one of the residents has got out of bed. Figuring I should go take a look, I quickly put the cleaning supplies away and hurry along the corridor. Sure enough, when I get to the next junction, I spot a hunched figure in the distance, disappearing around the next corner.

  "Hey," I call out, taking a step forward. As if startled, the figure disappears quickly from view. "Hey!" I say again, running over. To my surprise, however, I find that there's no-one in the next corridor. I'd assumed that all the old people in this place would be slow and lumbering, but this one definitely seems to be a little more sprightly.

  "You must be the new night girl," says a voice right behind me.

  Spinning around, I find a tall blonde woman smiling at me. She's wearing a light blue nurse's uniform, and she looks to be in her thirties or forties.

  "I'm Juliet," I say, my heart racing.

  "I know," she replies, smiling. "Charles told me you'd be around here somewhere. Sorry I took so long getting to you, but I was over on the blue ward. One of the patients had fallen over, and it was hell to get him up. Have you been okay?"

  "Yeah," I say, glancing back along the corridor. "I thought I saw someone through here, though. I was gonna go and see if they were lost, but they moved too fast".

  "It was probably just a trick of the light," she says. "None of our residents can move at more than a snail's pace".

  "Huh," I say, convinced I saw an actual person in the darkness. "I swear it was -"

  "Come on," she replies, putting a hand on my arm and leading me back to the rec room. "Let me guess. Charles told you almost nothing about what you're supposed to be doing here, did he? He set you loose with virtually no instructions, and expected you to work out your responsibilities along the way"

  "Yeah," I say. "I did some cleaning".

  "Typical Charles," she says, smiling again. She has a happy, friendly face that has already started to put me at ease. "The guy's always in a rush. He never has time to do anything properly. I guess he just plonked you down and told you to wait for me".

  "Yeah".

  "He could have at least made sure you had some training before you started," she adds as we reach the room and she peers at the top of the TV. "Wow, you really have been cleaning, haven't you?"

  "Yeah," I say. "I think he tried to phone you to let you know I was here, but you didn't pick up".

  "He did?" She pulls her phone from her pocket. "I guess. Do you have a phone with you?"

  We quickly swap numbers, before Lizzie shows me around the rec room. She explains that there are three wards at Crestview, and they're all identical, so once I know one of them, I'll know the rest. She tells me that my job is basically to be her assistant, and to help her out with whatever needs doing. There are twelve residents altogether, with four on each ward, and during the day there's a team of nurses and porters to look after their needs; at night, however, budget cuts mean that only one nurse is on duty to cover the entire facility, with a 'night girl' hired to help out. My priority has to be to keep listening out for any sign that one of the patients has woken up; as Lizzie explains, sometimes one of them will wake up and go for a wander, and our main job is to just help them back to their room.

  "You'll be surprised by some of them," she says. "You might think old people are boring, but this lot are a real bunch of characters. They've all lived such full lives, and just because they're old, it doesn't mean they've lost their personalities".

  I smile, not really knowing what to say.

  "You're nervous," she continues. "That's fine. It's good to be nervous, it means you're taking the job seriously. Just remember to take things slowly, and don't be afraid to ask questions if you're not sure about something".

  "Okay," I say.

  "There's also Mrs. Brown," Lizzie explains as we walk along one of the corridors. "She used to be one of our most interesting residents, but about two months ago she started to deteriorate. She's very close to death, unfortunately. Part of this job is dealing with that kind of thing. It's hard the first time, but you get used to it. Do you think you can handle being around people when they're at that stage, Juliet?"

  "Sure," I say, although to be honest I'm kind of terrified at the thought of seeing someone die. I've seen someone when they're close to death, but I've never seen the moment itself.

  "Don't worry," she replies with a smile. "It gives you a new perspective".

  "What's the deal with the other ward?" I ask, stopping as we pass the sealed-up door that leads to the abandoned ward.

  "We don't use that part of the building," she says. "Come on, I'll show you the office".

  "Why don't you use it?" I ask.

  "Various reasons," she says, seeming a little evasive.

  "Is that where the girl died?" I ask, peering through the window.

  "I think so," Lizzie says, gently taking my arm and leading me away. She clearly doesn't want to talk about it, and I can't say I blame her. "Charles left some forms for you to sign". She glances over at me as we walk. "I know it seems like a lot to take in, but you'll get used to it. My first day was crazy, but I quickly settled in. The most important thing to do is to just follow your head. Be logical, and consider the needs of the residents. Just because they're old, don't assume they're dumb, and never forget that they all have feelings. Most of them are frustrated, because they still have fairly sharp minds but their bodies are starting to fall apart. I don't know if you've been around old people very much, but it can be quite an eye-opener. When they get into their eighties and nineties, many of them start experiencing some very major difficulties, things that don't get discussed much in public. Embarrassing things. Humiliating things. Our society tends to push these things out of sight. It can be a sad thing to see".

  "I'll do my best," I say.

  "Treat them the same way you'd treat anyone else," she continues. "At the same time, remember that they can be tricky sometimes. Not all old people are sweet and lovely".

  "I know," I say as we reach the reception area. "My grandmother in Connecticut is a bitch". I immediately regret saying that; I can tell from the look in Lizzie's eyes that she disapproves. "I didn't mean it like that," I add quickly. "I mean, she's difficult, but I didn't mean that she's a bitch. She's just..."

  "Relax," she replies, leading me into the office. "Some people are bitches. Just try not to use that kind of language when you're at work. It doesn't always go down well with the residents. They're kind of old-fashioned, for the most part. Even a word like 'damn' can get some of them worked up. They were just born in a different era, but it's something to keep in mind".

  "Sorry".

  She smiles as she looks for the papers on the desk. "I guess he forgot to leave them," she says after a moment. "One thing you're going to have to learn about Charles Taylor is that he's the most disorganized manager in the history of the world. When he says he's done so
mething, it usually means he's planning to do it, or he think he might do it at some point in the next few days. It very rarely means he actually has done it".

  I smile awkwardly, feeling as if I still don't quite understand the full extent of my role. I figure my best bet is just to follow Lizzie around and let her show me what to do.

  "It's almost midnight," Lizzie continues, "so we're going to have to go on a quick check of the wards. I'm going to throw you in at the deep end, okay? Go and walk around the red ward, and make sure no-one's up. If all the doors are shut, that's a good sign. Go to each of the rooms, open them very gently, and make sure that each resident is okay. You have to make sure you can either hear them breathing, or see the bedsheets rise and fall. Don't worry about waking them up, most of them are sound sleepers. You've got my number, so you just call me if there's anything you need, okay? If there's any kind of problem, don't try to sort it out yourself. Call me. Understood?"

  I stare at her for a moment. "By myself?"

  "By yourself," she says, smiling. "It's really not a big deal, Juliet. You seem pretty sharp and on the ball. Just make sure to ask if you have any doubts at all, okay?"

  "Yeah," I say, though I really don't like the idea of doing this by myself. "I don't know," I add, "maybe if you came with me the first time, just in case I get something wrong..."

  She shakes her head. "You'll be fine".

  "Sure," I say, feeling absolutely terrified at the thought of going into the residents' rooms by myself, but aware that I mustn't let the fear show. "Okay".

  "Great," she continues, leading me out of the office and over to the corridor that leads to the red ward. "Good luck. You'll do a great job. I'll be in the green and blue wards, doing pretty much the same thing that you're doing, so don't hesitate to give me a call if there's anything you want". With that, she pats me on the back and walks away, leaving me standing alone and staring into the gloom. After a moment, I turn to ask her if maybe she could reconsider and come with me, but to my surprise I find that she's already disappeared down one of the other corridors.