Berkley Street Series Books 1 - 9: Haunted House and Ghost Stories Collection

by Ron Ripley

  “Had to,” Shane responded. “I’d rather not be here.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Jacob assured him. “Tell me, why are you here?”

  “Surgery,” Shane explained.

  Jacob frowned. “And will you leave our Nurse alone when you are done?”

  “Not a chance in Hell,” Shane said.

  “It will cost you your life,” the dead man said after a minute of silence.

  “It could,” Shane agreed.

  “Your determination is foolish,” Jacob said, anger creeping into his voice.

  “Usually is,” Shane said.

  “Then leave,” Jacob urged. “Go. Find another facility for your operation. We will let you go in peace.”

  “Can’t,” Shane said.

  “Can’t or won’t?” the old man asked.

  “Either. Maybe both,” Shane said, shrugging. “The point of the matter is this, I’m going to destroy the Nurse, then no one else will have to worry about being killed before their time.”

  “You don’t understand anything,” Jacob said with a bitter tone. “You don’t know what it’s like to cling to life, and all the while lacking the courage to kill yourself. The Nurse takes that burden from us. We will not have to suffer with the sin of suicide over our heads. She has accepted the responsibility of our deaths.”

  “You swallowed the lie hook, line, and sinker, didn’t you,” Shane said softly.

  “It is no lie,” Jacob snarled. “You have been given a choice. Will you stay and suffer the wrath of those who support her, or will you leave and live until your time has come?”

  “Wrath sounds good to me,” Shane said. “Now, if you’re not here to cheer me up for the surgery, you should probably go.”

  The old man didn’t move, and Shane tightened his grip on the knuckledusters.

  Then Jacob turned and left the room.

  The light flickered and came on.

  A knock sounded and the door opened.

  A young woman walked in. She held a couple of paperback books in her hands, and she smiled at Shane.

  “Here you are,” she said, bringing the books to the bed table and setting them down beside the lamp’s base.

  “Thanks,” Shane said, and reflexively his right hand lashed out as the young nurse swung her fist at him.

  Metal clashed against metal and Shane yelled as something plunged into his left shoulder. She kept her grip on the handle of a knife, the blade of which was buried to the hilt. As she tried to pull the weapon out Shane latched onto her wrist, keeping the knife trapped in his body.

  His body shrieked, pain exploding across his nerve endings and setting his brain on fire. Shane ignored the injury, and the grating sensation of metal against bone, and swung his left fist at the nurse’s face.

  Shane’s blow lacked any strength and bounced harmlessly off her forehead.

  Then a powerfully cold sensation surged through his body and the woman let go of the weapon. The young nurse stumbled back as Courtney took shape in the room. The light flickered, and the bulb exploded. Cries of surprise could be heard from the hallway.

  She’s drained the whole floor, Shane thought numbly.

  With the room lit only by what little light came in through the window, Shane saw the young nurse catch herself on the wall. She stood and gasped, trying to catch her breath.

  “Who are you?” she hissed, staring at Courtney.

  Courtney said nothing. Instead, she stepped forward and grabbed hold of the woman’s blouse. Shane saw a small, grim smile appear on Courtney’s face, and then her arm was a blur. Courtney hurled the woman across the room, where the cinderblock wall stopped the young nurse violently.

  Shane heard something break, and the woman slid limply down to the floor. A trail of smeared blood remained on the wall. For a heartbeat, the woman remained upright, and then silently she fell to the left, landing with a thud.

  Shane watched as Courtney walked over and knelt down beside the woman, looking at her.

  “She’s alive,” Courtney said, glancing at Shane.

  Shane struggled and sat up. He ignored the knife hilt which protruded from him. Wincing, he got out of the bed and forced himself to sit down beside the young nurse.

  “Nurse,” he said.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Hey!” Shane shouted.

  Her breathing was ragged. Reaching out, Shane pulled up an eyelid. Only the white was showing.

  Great, he thought. Pointless now. And I’ve got a damned knife in me.

  “She’s dying,” Courtney said in a low voice.

  “Let her.” Shane grimaced as he shifted his weight. “I hope it hurts like hell.”

  Courtney vanished and Shane was left alone, wondering what to do next.

  Chapter 52: An Exodus

  Francis pulled the car over on the side of the road leading up to Sanford. From where he sat, he could see the building, and something curious.

  Buses.

  Three were parked in front of the facility, and others could be seen idling on the road reaching around to the back lot. Francis could see patients being brought down the stairs. Staff members helped them into the buses, and as Francis watched, the first bus was loaded, the doors closed, and the vehicle pulled away. Soon it passed by him, and then it was followed by the second, and the third. In less than half an hour, fourteen buses traveled down from the hospital to the main road.

  The building had been emptied out.

  Why? Francis thought. Why have they left? Is Matias still there? And what about Doc?

  He waited for a minute, then he started the car again and turned on the radio. Francis checked the stations until he found a news report.

  “The information being given out is pretty slim right now, folks,” a male reporter said. “All we know is that the authorities at Sanford Hospital said there has been some sort of chemical leak. The patients and staff are being evacuated. We’ll let you know as we learn more. But, as of right now, you can go to Manchester West High School, which is where the patients are being brought.”

  Francis turned off the radio and shook his head. Decent cover story, he thought, and drove up to the back parking lot.

  Shane’s car was there, near a light.

  Francis frowned, shut the engine off again and looked at the tools he had brought: the shotgun, the extra rounds, the war club from Uri, and the rings on his fingers.

  Abbot Gregory had allowed Francis to pick a pair of them, as he had promised. Each ring was made of thin iron and stamped with crosses. The metal was snug against the index finger of each hand, and Francis felt better knowing they were there.

  He got out of the car, went around to the passenger side and took out the extra rounds and the shotgun. He felt odd, carrying a weapon while still wearing his simple robes. But a deep, powerful part of him knew it was justified, and he was doing what was right.

  Turning around, Francis walked towards the back of the building. A bay door had been left open, and he quickly walked up the concrete steps. Emergency lights were on, and Francis realized there was hardly any ambient sound. He moved quickly along the corridor and found a jacket. A security badge was clipped to it, and Francis pulled it off. He held the thin plastic card in his hand and soon had a use for it.

  Francis came to a secured door, but the electronic reader accepted the swipe from the card and buzzed him in.

  He found himself on the first floor, A Ward, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with the hallway. Francis tried to remember where Matias’ room was, and as he looked down the hall, he saw a door with a quarantine seal around it.

  Matias, he thought.

  Francis quickened his pace and as he advanced he heard a noise. He twisted around in time to see an old woman. She moved towards him and Francis saw she was dead. Her face was wide, her eyes half-closed and the gray hair on her head pulled back in a loose bun. She wore a gray nightgown, clinging to her large frame.

  Francis brought the shotgun up and sighte
d down the barrel.

  Chapter 53: Matias in His Room

  It took an exceptionally long time for Matias to crawl the length of his room. By the time he reached the door, he could hardly breathe. With a gasp, he rolled onto his side and pressed his back against the wall, resting his head on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his breath and his wits back to him.

  The way my luck is running, Matias thought grimly, Mark will return and find me out of bed. Wouldn’t that be a kicker?

  Finally, Matias opened his eyes again and looked at the door. The handle was only a few feet off the floor, but it would be a challenge to reach it.

  And open it, Matias thought, and then get out.

  How are you going to get out of the building, Matias? he asked himself.

  One problem at a time, he thought.

  Matias got into a sitting position, looked at the door handle and reached up for it.

  The metal was cold in his hand as he gripped it tightly. His heartbeat increased, his blood thumping in his ears as he pulled it down. Cautiously he pulled the door back, a quarter of an inch at a time, listening intently.

  The sound of a shotgun jerked his hand away from the door handle and caused him to fall backward.

  Chapter 54: Doc Arrives

  A shotgun blast stunned Shane. Within a heartbeat the door opened, and Doc came into the room, wide-eyed.

  Doc looked around, saw the body and said, “What the hell happened? And who the hell is shooting in here?”

  “She tried to kill me,” Shane said, waving towards the body, “and I don’t know.”

  “Jesus, man, do you have a knife in your shoulder?” Doc asked. “Where is everyone on this floor?”

  “Yes. No idea,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “Listen, Doc, if you could help me with this, I would really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah. Right,” Doc said, shaking his head. “Sorry. Can you follow me?”

  Shane nodded. Together they left the room and went out into the empty hallway. No one was at the nurse’s station. From what Shane could see, no one was anywhere. Someone fired the shotgun twice more.

  “Wait here,” Doc said, and he hurried around the nurse’s station. Shane held onto the counter top with his right hand, and he could feel the blood seeping around the edges of the knife blade. Doc reappeared thirty seconds later with a large first-aid box. He set it down, opened it, and pulled out a pair of scissors.

  “So,” Doc said, cutting away at the fabric, “you come here often?”

  “Is this your bedside manner?” Shane asked, wincing as Doc reached the knife and worked his way through the cloth.

  “Yup,” Doc said, removing the shirt. “You like it?”

  “No,” Shane said, “but please don’t let that stop you from fixing me.”

  “I never allow constructive criticism to interrupt my work,” Doc said. He put the scissors down, took a compression bandage out and said. “Can you say, ‘ah’?”

  “Ah?” Shane asked, and when he did Doc grabbed the knife and pulled it out.

  Shane’s voice became a scream of rage and pain. Doc slapped the bandage on him, and as Shane’s vision pulsed in time to the throbs of the wound, the former medic taped him up.

  “How’s it feel?” Doc asked.

  “Like crap,” Shane grumbled.

  “Good,” Doc said. “At least you feel something there.”

  The medic rooted around in the first-aid box for a moment, grunted in satisfaction and pulled a small hypodermic needle out.

  “Tetanus,” Doc said, and without ceremony, he took the cap off and stuck the needle in Shane’s deltoid.

  “Doc, you have the absolute worst bedside manner,” Shane said. He looked down at himself. “And I am now bloody and in a pair of boxers.”

  “Well,” Doc said, dropping the needle onto the desk. “It could be worse.”

  “How so?” Shane asked.

  “You could be wearing tighty-whities,” Doc replied.

  Before Shane could comment, another shotgun blast echoed through the hospital.

  Doc glanced at Shane’s hand and asked, “Will those actually work?”

  Shane looked down at the knuckledusters and nodded. “You bet, Doc.”

  “Okay,” Doc said, “let’s go find out who’s gone haywire with a shotgun.”

  Shane nodded and walked toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Doc asked, stopping by the elevator.

  “Power’s out, Doc,” Shane said, glancing over his shoulder. “Think you can get the elevator to work without it?”

  Doc frowned and followed Shane. Together they reached the stairwell and Doc slipped in front of Shane. The former medic removed a key card from his pocket and swiped it through. The emergency power allowed the door to open.

  “Where’d you get the card?” Shane asked as they entered the stairwell.

  “Ask me no more questions, I’ll tell you no more lies,” Doc said, starting down the stairs. The shotgun was fired again, the sound echoing up from the bottom of the stairwell.

  “Doesn’t sound good,” Doc said, looking over at Shane.

  “No,” Shane agreed, “it sure as hell doesn’t.”

  Chapter 55: Francis Finds Matias

  The world was silent.

  Occasionally the dimness of the ward was lit by the muzzle flash of the shotgun, and Francis knew he was smiling. His heart kept a strong, steady beat within his chest, and he felt the blood flowing through him.

  A man stepped out of a room, a look of pure hate on his face. He was missing his left arm at the shoulder, but he still looked as though he could inflict serious damage on Francis.

  Francis pulled the trigger, rock salt exploding out of the shotgun and ripping through the ghost. As the spirit vanished and the rock salt shattered against the wall, Francis turned and realized he had reached Matias’ room.

  He let go of the weapon with his left hand and grasped the door handle. With a jerk, he twisted it and pushed into the room.

  Matias was lying on the floor.

  Suddenly the ability to hear rushed back to Francis and the old man’s labored breathing filled his ears.

  Francis dropped to his knees, setting the shotgun down beside him.

  “Matias,” Francis said, and the old man looked at him with wide eyes. His lips were blue, his face pale.

  “Dom Francis,” Matias whispered, his voice barely audible.

  Francis went to speak, but a scream tore out of his mouth instead of the kind words he had meant to say. Something unspeakably cold grabbed him and threw him aside.

  Francis watched as the Nurse reached into Matias' chest, her hand plunging in all the way up to her wrist.

  Matias opened his mouth in silent shock, his eyes glazing over as his back arched.

  Francis tried to move but found he couldn’t. Fear immobilized him.

  “Peace,” a voice he recognized as the Nurse’s said. “He is nearly done. And it is not yet your time, Father.”

  Francis remained silent, unable to respond.

  Matias relaxed, then went limp. For a few seconds longer, the Nurse kept her hand in Matias’s chest. Finally, she withdrew it and looked to Francis.

  “You should return to your home, Father,” she said. “There will be others who will need your comfort before I give them mine.”

  The Nurse vanished, and Francis tried to gather his strength, but he failed.

  Chapter 56: A Gathering

  When they reached A Ward and exited the stairwell, Shane could see the door to Matias’ room was open. Plastic wrap for quarantine control was in disarray. The smell of gunpowder was heavy in the air.

  “Oh damn,” Shane breathed as they reached the doorway.

  Doc pushed past him, hurrying to Matias’ side. Shane watched as Doc checked the old man’s vitals, but it was no use. Matias was dead.

  “Dom Francis,” Shane said.

  The monk was on his knees, head bent. His hands were clasped together on
his lap, and a riot shotgun with a drum canister lay on the floor beside him.

  “Dom Francis,” Shane repeated.

  The monk lifted his head and in his eyes Shane saw a deep sadness.

  “What happened?” Shane asked.

  “She killed him,” Dom Francis replied. “I couldn’t stop her.”

  “Look at me,” Doc said, command and authority in his voice.

  Dom Francis did so.

  Doc checked the monk’s pulse, his pupils, and his neck. With a sigh, Doc settled back on his haunches and said, “You’re fine, physically.”

  Dom Francis nodded. “I know. Shaken, is all. I thought I’d be able to save him from her.”

  “You and me both,” Shane muttered.

  “Now what?” Doc asked, looking from the monk to Shane. “Seriously, what do we do now? This place has been abandoned, so I don’t think we’re going to get any help if we call anyone.”

  “Not looking to call anyone,” Shane said. “All I want to do is get to my car, get my gear bag and find her grave.”

  “You still want to do that?” Doc asked, shocked. “After everything we’ve gone through?”

  “Yes,” Dom Francis said, getting to his feet. “Shane is right. We need to finish her off. I doubt the hospital will be closed for very long.”

  “You guys have some issues,” Doc said, using the wall to support himself as he stood up. “But I guess you’re right. We should finish it. We can’t risk her coming back. And, you know, I really don’t want to wake up with her standing over my bed one day.”

  “Alright,” Shane said. “Got a question you might be able to answer.”

  “Go ahead,” Doc said.

  “Do you know if there’s an old graveyard around here. Maybe something in a back corner, tucked away?” Shane asked.

  “Sure,” Doc said. “About a quarter mile away, up through an old road. I think they used it for the hospital, back before it filled up and people changed their minds about letting the government bury their family members.”

  “Alright,” Shane said. He looked over at Dom Francis. “You okay to do this?”