by Jon Mills
“You are free to go, Nurse Cross. Um, David, if you could just stay a while longer. I have a couple of matters to discuss with you.”
She got up and thanked her and exited feeling frustrated and vulnerable.
Had Nurse Harvey gone through the same ordeal? As she strolled back to the unit, she felt more unsafe now at the thought of facing her coworkers than she did the patients. She swallowed hard, and fought the urge to quit.
19
In the days after the death of Edgar and Seth, Jack learned that a small memorial service would take place in the chapel the following Sunday. That morning he joined Cowboy and a small gaggle of patients as they streamed into a small outbuilding that resembled a storage shed more than a church. It had a stone foundation, light brown vinyl siding and black shingles. The only resemblance to a church was a large stained-glass window at the far end that depicted Calvary and the death of Christ.
Off to the right, a large, imposing man was removing a cardboard box out the back of a full-sized SUV with dark tinted windows. He left the trunk open as he set the box down and reached in for a mic stand.
Nurse Cross and a male nurse were escorting patients that morning.
“Morning,” the man said.
“Pastor Boone,” Cross replied, ushering everyone in.
There were no pews inside, no Bibles or crosses on the walls. Instead, there were five rows of hard metal chairs. Once they had taken a seat, Jack watched as a couple of the patients helped the pastor set up a small microphone and podium. The pastor didn’t look like a clergyman, in that he didn’t wear black clothing or a white collar. His attire was relaxed: khaki bottoms, a denim shirt with a white V-neck and solid boots.
Over the next five minutes he went one by one to each of them and got their names, shaking their hand and making them feel welcome. To those who were new he gave out a pamphlet providing a short introduction to his mission statement, his story, belief and affiliated church. When he reached Jack, he extended a hand and after getting his name he smiled. “Ah, finally a face that goes with the name. John Dalton spoke very highly of you.”
“You know him?”
“Indeed. In fact I was the one who arranged for him to see you.”
“Huh! I appreciate that.” Jack smiled. “How is he?”
“Good but concerned… for you.”
He cocked his head. “When is he not.” He smiled warmly.
The pastor looked cautious about what he said with staff standing nearby. Fortunately, Nurse Cross rose and went to the doorway as one of the psych techs had come over to ask a question.
“Is he still around?” Jack asked.
“Yes, he’s staying at my place for a couple more days before he heads back. Though things have got a little hairy, you might say.”
“In what way?”
Boone cast a glance at Nurse Byrd who was trying to get two of the patients to settle down. They looked as if they wanted to play Jenga with the Bibles. “A local group of men threatened him. He believes they were also responsible for running Ms. Armstrong and her colleague off the road.”
“Armstrong?”
“A reporter.” He looked at him for a second then his brow furrowed. “He didn’t mention her?”
“No.”
“She’s from the San Francisco Chronicle.”
The very mention of the name brought Dana to mind.
“What’s she doing up this way?”
“If Dalton is correct, looking for an interview with you. She tried to get in here but was told they had denied all visitors. Hence the reason I had to set up a meeting at the hospital in Saranac. It was either that or Dalton would have come here. I wasn’t sure if you would be here today so he didn’t come with me. Said he had a few things to do related to Ms. Armstrong before he left.”
“Pastor, do you know when you’re going to start the service? The patients are getting a little distracted,” Byrd said pulling one of them back and forcing him into his seat.
“Right. In a moment.” He looked back at Jack. “Perhaps over the coming weeks we can spend a bit more time talking. I’d like to get to know you better, Jack.”
“You know I don’t do religion, pastor.”
He smiled and nodded. “Dalton made me very aware of that.” He tapped Jack on the shoulder. “But still, whether you get involved in the meeting here or just hang around to speak after, I’d like to be a listening ear.”
“I thought God was there for that.”
He chuckled and patted him before going to the front to make preparations to begin. Jack cast a glance over his shoulder and noticed Nurse Cross was no longer there. Big Charlie entered and sauntered down, slipping into a seat next to him, almost taking up two seats. “Didn’t take you for a religious man, Charlie,” Jack said.
“Thought I would pay my respects. Edgar was a close friend. A good man.” He glanced at him. “Heard you tried to escape and those two assholes put a beatdown on you. That right?”
“Not far wrong,” he replied keeping his eyes forward.
“One of these days those two are going to get what’s coming to them.”
Boone came walking up the aisle. “Can I get you two strong gents to give me a hand loading in the new speakers?” They nodded and got up and headed out to his SUV. Nurse Byrd was too busy trying to control patients to worry about Boone’s safety. Outside a warm sunshine beat down. Jack glanced across the yard and saw Nurse Cross making a beeline for a grove of trees on the far side with a psych tech. Figuring they were handling another unruly patient, he didn’t give it another thought. “Right, guys, if you want to drag that one out and I’ll carry this one. My back isn’t what it used to be.”
“The hospital pay for these?” Charlie asked as he reached in and removed some heavy blankets covering the equipment and pulled out a large black speaker. That garnered a laugh out of Boone.
“They charge me to use this building. So no, they don’t pay for squat.”
A scream echoed and all three of them looked off towards the grove of trees. It wasn’t uncommon to hear screams especially from female staff if a patient struck them but there was something about the continuation of the scream. They expected any second now to hear the alarm go off and see a troop of hospital cops but nothing happened. Jack rushed to the chapel and yelled to Nurse Byrd who had her hands full restraining a patient. She tugged on her personal alarm but nothing happened. She released the patient and jogged toward the entrance thinking it was out of range as it relied on GPS, but her second attempt failed to get any response.
Not wasting any time, Jack sprinted for the cluster of trees, with Charlie and Boone not that far behind. As he rounded the large thicket, Jack came out into a space that was out of sight of the hospital or even security. Pressing on, his eyes washed over a downed psych tech, he was motionless and had a nasty gash to the forehead. A short distance away, Sutton and two other patients surrounded Nurse Cross. They had her pinned to the ground and Sutton was choking the life out of her.
Jack rushed in, only to have the other two lash out. He kicked one of them in the nuts and Charlie burst past him exchanging fists with the other. By now Jack expected Sutton to have fled or at least come at him, but he was still straddling Cross, focused on strangling her. Jack launched forward, tackling him at the waist and knocking him clear. They rolled across the grass a few feet before Sutton parried with a blow to the face. It stung but without missing a beat, Jack headbutted him, bursting his nose before being thrown off by Sutton’s pals. Wanting to help, even Boone got involved, dragging Nurse Cross clear of the assault which was now building in intensity. Fists flew as Charlie and Jack took on all three of them. A jab, a hook, a kick to the knee and a mean uppercut and one of Sutton’s pals was out cold. Charlie had his hands full with a muscular animal that had been thrown inside for rape and murder. Sutton tossed a shank from one hand to the next and spoke through gritted teeth. “Come on!”
He lunged, scything the air with a blade. Jack removed his
jacket and used it to tangle up his weapon hand, and twisted it behind him. He plowed his foot into Sutton’s back, knocking him down. Sutton was fast and able to take a beating. Flipping back over he took out Jack’s leg and followed through with a strike to his neck with the ridge of his hand.
It took his breath and allowed Sutton to scramble for the blade he’d dropped.
Seconds, that’s all he had. There was no time to catch his breath, Jack fired up and threw himself onto the back of Sutton as he scrambled forward, his hand inches away from a makeshift blade made from a filed toothbrush and a razor. He cracked him twice in the ear and then put his left arm around Sutton’s neck while digging his knee into his back. Sutton’s fingers clawed at the earth until he latched onto the shank. In a stabbing frenzy, he launched his attack trying to get Jack off his back even as he rose. Here were two men over two hundred pounds, one gripping the other with the hope of choking him out while the other stabbed furiously over his shoulder. Only twice did the blade strike Jack but they were nicks more than deep wounds. Hanging on for dear life, Jack tightened his grip, cutting off air to the brain until Sutton’s legs buckled and he collapsed.
As Jack rolled off and tried to catch a breath, the hospital siren blared.
Minutes from now, cops would barrel in, restrain and throw them all in seclusion. Like a light switch turning on, Sutton gasped taking in a deep breath as he came up, then coughed hard. Jack rolled forward preparing for another attack when Charlie raced in, snagged up the shank near Sutton’s hand and stabbed him in the neck. It happened so fast.
“Charlie.”
He jabbed his finger at Jack. “Go. Get out of here before they come.”
“But—”
“Go!” he yelled as Sutton gripped his neck, toppled over and bled out on the ground. “He got what was coming to him.” Charlie looked over at Boone who was performing CPR because nurse Cross was struggling to breathe. As Jack rose to leave he saw her double over and start coughing which was a good sign. No doubt she’d suffered some vocal damage but at least she was alive.
He took off into the grove of trees just as cops burst out of the building, their dogs yelping and tugging on the short chains. He glanced back at Charlie who laid down, placed the shank beside him and interlocked his fingers behind his head. The shank. He didn’t even try to get rid of it. He wanted them to know it was him but why? Why had he done that? What had Sutton done to him? There wasn’t much about the people or the place that made sense. That’s why they were here.
“You okay?” Boone asked. He placed a hand on her back as she sucked in air and rubbed her neck with her other hand. She nodded but didn’t say anything. Boone looked on at the chaotic scene as hospital cops took control, placing all patients in restraints and calling for paramedics over the radio. Where was Jack? He surveyed the terrain before security made sure Boone was okay and released him to return to the chapel.
He returned with a heavy heart knowing full well he’d have to postpone the memorial. Any time hospital police were called in to deal with a murder, patients had to go back to their rooms and the entire facility was placed on lockdown.
Nurse Byrd looked shaken up as she guided the patients back.
He smiled at her, hoping to raise her spirit, but it was useless.
Boone collected his belongings and left the equipment. He closed the trunk on his vehicle and got inside. He fired up the engine and rolled out, glancing one final time at the chaos. Some days he questioned whether it was worth it, whether time invested in the patients’ lives had any effect at all. Charlie had been a model patient not prone to violence and yet in an instant had snapped and taken another person’s life without hesitation. It was in these moments that he was reminded of the dangers of working with the mentally ill.
He eased off the gas as he came down to the sally port and a hospital cop stepped out of the booth while another one was on the phone, no doubt speaking to his colleagues back at the facility. Both of them look disturbed and preoccupied. Boone brought his window down.
“Hell of a day, eh?”
“Telling me. You all good?” The guard asked.
“Yeah, will have to come back next week.”
The guard glanced in and asked him to pop the trunk. He did so and the cop came around. Just as he was leaning in, the alarm at the facility went off again. “Terry, you got that?”
“They need more support, you done?”
The guard groaned and slammed the trunk shut without properly looking. “Yeah, he’s good.” The gate groaned open and they waved him out. His tires bit into gravel, then the vehicle bounced up onto asphalt and away from the hospital.
A few minutes along the long stretch of road cutting through the forest, Boone reached down to his glove compartment for a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out with his teeth and tossed the pack on the passenger seat. As he looked up to light it, his eyes widened and he nearly lost control of the vehicle. There in the back, now partially covered by the heavy blankets, was Jack Winchester staring back. “I thought pastors didn’t smoke?”
“What the? How did…?”
The car screeched a little as it swerved.
Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. “Settle down, pastor, and keep your eyes on the road.” He glanced back. “You’ll be fine. Just keep going and take us back to your place.”
“That second alarm. That was for you.”
“No doubt.”
“They’ll be looking for you.”
“By then I’ll be long gone.”
“Jack.”
“Keep driving, pastor. Keep driving.” Pastor Boone lived roughly forty minutes from Holbrook. His log-style cabin was nestled in the woods, set back from an isolated road that only had four other neighboring houses.
When they arrived, Boone swerved his SUV to a standstill a few feet from a wraparound porch. “You got family?” Jack asked.
“No, I’m divorced.”
“Divorced. Smoker. No wonder you need God.” He tapped him and chuckled. “It’s a joke, pastor. Smile.” Jack climbed out of the back and brushed himself off. “Thought I was going to have to kill that guard. That was close.”
“Jack?” Jack turned to see Dalton come out of the house, a wide smile spreading. “You’re out?”
“Damn right.”
They hugged it out and Dalton patted him on the back. “How you doing, my old friend?”
“Better for seeing you,” he replied before looking at a nervous Boone. “Like I told you, Boone, it’s complicated.”
As Dalton patted Jack on the shoulder, someone cleared their throat. Jack noticed a woman in the doorway, good-looking, far too young for Boone though. “Jack. This is Kelly Armstrong.”
20
The clock was ticking. His reunion with Dalton was short-lived. Time was against Jack and they all knew it. The longer he stayed at the pastor’s house, the higher the odds of getting caught. Within twenty-four hours an escaped convict would have local, state and federal officers, including FBI agents and U.S. marshals, in hot pursuit. Checkpoints, search dogs and aerial surveillance, they would use it all and that included giving a mug shot to the media. How much more attention would a dangerous mental patient attract? It wouldn’t be long before his face was plastered all over the news. The internet would be buzzing. Eyes would be on him and the public would become his worst enemy.
No, if he wanted to strike back at Angelo he needed to do it now and fast.
New Jersey was a good six-hour journey and that was if they didn’t stop and use the main interstate, but with police spreading their net wide, he would have to stick to the back roads. Experience told him that they would initially set up checkpoints in a five- to ten-mile radius. Needless to say, the first few hours were critical. Fortunately there was a small window of opportunity, two hours max, he believed. The hospital wouldn’t immediately contact state police but would try to save face by searching the grounds and every room in the hospital, especially since only one other person h
ad escaped and that exit point was now known.
He could imagine Jenkins and Porter beating their head against a wall trying to locate him while other staff members made excuses. By the time the dust settled and they needed to report him as AWOL, he would be at least twenty miles away.
The storm door creaked as he pushed it open.
“But Mr. Winchester. You don’t know what I have been through to get here. The risks I have taken, the ridicule I’ve suffered, not to mention enduring the gross habits of my coworker while on the road. All I want is thirty minutes of your time. Tell me your story, who you are, your background, how you came to meet Dana, why you choose to help people and….”
He put a hand up. “Darlin’, I would love to stick around for drinks and story time but as you can appreciate, I’m a little under the gun right now,” he said glancing at his watch as he stepped down and headed toward her rented SUV.
“Hold on a minute. You’re taking that?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded and threw in a small duffel bag of food, and enough clothes so he could change his appearance at least twice on the way down. Change it up. That had always been his method. Keep them guessing.
“Well I’m coming too then.”
“No you’re not,” he said looking back at her.
“You owe me a story. You can tell me on the way.”
She hopped into the driver’s side and patted her jacket but Jack dangled the keys. “Looking for these?”
She put her hand out.
He shook his head. “I’m driving. Scooch over.”
“But…”
“Seriously, Dalton, where did you find her?”
Dalton laughed before he turned to Boone and gave him a hug. “Thanks.”
“If they show up, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Come on, pastor,” Jack said out the window as he fired up the engine. “You smoke and curse, I’m sure God won’t mind you telling one white lie.”
Boone groaned and shook his head. Dalton hopped in.
