Drug

by O'Rourke, Lynda

  “How long do you think we have before the night shift changes over?” I asked, looking at Max.

  “Probably another hour,” he shrugged. “We need to decide how we’re going to walk through those gates with the rest of the staff unnoticed.”

  “Well, you and Jude have an I.D. badge each,” I said, “So maybe Raven should walk out with Jude and I’ll go out with you. If you hold up the I.D. badge for the security guards to see then I might be able to just slip through.”

  “Go out in pairs you mean?” he said. “Yeah, it’s probably best not to go in a group, we’d stand out too much – we know their looking for three of us at least.”

  “I just hope that Jude is well enough to walk,” I said, looking over at the door where he lay.

  “And run,” Max whispered. “We might have to run.”

  I nodded my head. The thought of having to walk past the security guards pretending to be a member of staff filled me with dread. Would we pull it off?

  “Hey, we’ll do it,” said Max, as if able to read my mind. “We have to.”

  “If we make it past the gates, where should we head?” I asked. “We need a direction. We don’t want to look suspicious – we’ve got to act like all those other workers leaving work. We can’t catch the bus – we’ve no money.”

  Max sat down on a pew, picked up an ancient-looking bible that lay on the floor and waved it in front of his face, trying to rid the smell that hung in the chapel. “Holly Tree is the nearest town and most of the staff come from there. So, we take the path along the road that leads down to the bottom of Strangers Hill but we don’t follow it all the way. As soon as we’re out of sight of Cruor Pharma and out of sight from the staff leaving, we get off that path and cut down the hill under the cover of the trees.”

  “Then what?” I asked. “Do we go into Holly Tree, and if so, where do we go when we get into town? Will we be safe there?”

  “The only people looking for us at the moment are staff members from Cruor Pharma, and they still think we’re inside the hospital,” said Max. “The police don’t know about us yet which gives us a bit of a head start, but when Middleton realises we’re out, that’s when he’ll go to the police – to Inspector Cropper – that’s when we’ll need to be out of Holly Tree.”

  “Was it Inspector Cropper who dealt with you when you went to the police about your brother?” I asked.

  Max nodded his head. “Yeah. No wonder he wasn’t interested. He’s probably on Middleton’s payroll. I bet he was pleased when he thought he’d pulled the wool over my eyes and got rid of me.”

  “I wonder what he would’ve done if you’d been persistent?” I whispered.

  We both looked at each other as if thinking the same thought.

  “Guess I wouldn’t be here now talking to you,” sighed Max, running his fingers through his hair. He leant back against the pew slowly shaking his head. “Shit, I’d probably be dead or locked up somewhere.”

  “Do you really think the police would do that – kill anyone who might give up their secret with Cruor Pharma and Middleton?” I whispered, a bad feeling churning away inside of me.

  “You’d like to think that they wouldn’t,” he shrugged. “But who knows how deep the police are involved in all this. Inspector Cropper certainly seems to have his hands dirty. I’m sure he wouldn’t want this getting out – not if he’s been taking money from Middleton.”

  “Well at least we know not to go strolling into the Holly Tree police Station,” I said. “But where do we go?”

  “Jude said he has a car parked outside that bar – The Fallen Star. I think we should get the car and get the hell out of Holly Tree,” said Max.

  “My friend Hannah lives close by – in the next town. We could go there after we get the car. She’d help us. We could clean up and I know she’d lend me some money,” I said.

  “I don’t know. Can you trust her?” asked Max. “Does she have anything to do with Cruor Pharma or any family that works here?”

  “I trust her with my life. We’ve been friends since I was little,” I said. “She works at the bank in The Mumbles. Her parents moved away a year ago, I’ve never known them to work for Cruor Pharma – ever.”

  A sudden doubt flashed up in my mind – my dad. I had never known my dad to work, let alone work for Cruor Pharma. Could Hannah’s parents have ever worked here? No, her mum had been a librarian and her dad had worked for the local newspaper.

  “Okay, we’ll stop at Hannah’s,” said Max, standing up. “But only so we can clean up and borrow some money. Then we’ll go. Can you drive?”

  “I don’t have a driving licence, but I can drive a car,” I said. “Hannah gave me some lessons a while ago.”

  “Good,” said Max heading toward the door. “I can’t drive and I’m not sure if Jude is gonna be in any fit state to either. I’m gonna go and check on him.”

  I looked over at Raven. She was fast asleep. Good, I thought. Thinking of Raven made me remember the crosses and crucifixes. There must be some in this chapel somewhere. I walked down the aisle, knocking the cobwebs away. I checked the pews but the only items along them were prayer cushions and some bibles. It was strange to see the chapel so tidy and neat yet covered in dust and cobwebs. It was like it was waiting for the congregation to arrive. I reached the wooden lectern. A bible had been opened and a verse had been highlighted. Covering my nose with the sleeve of my jacket, I started to read.

  Peter 5:8 – Be sober-minded, be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

  I noticed several pages had been bookmarked. Prayer cards were poking out from different pages and I opened up to the next one. Again, another verse had been highlighted.

  James 4:7 – Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

  I flipped through the other pages noticing the highlighted text. They were all verses about the devil. Had the priest who served this chapel known about Cruor Pharma and what strange things roamed its corridors? Had he been reading these verses from the bible to the people who came here? Or had he been reading them to himself for comfort and guidance? My head swam with thoughts of ghosts and monsters. I had seen enough through the night to change my beliefs about the supernatural but the devil…? That just seemed too crazy. Too extreme. But was it?

  I closed the bible. Something shiny caught my eye. It was poking out from beneath a large pile of what looked like dirty-white material, shoved under the front pew. I bent down and picked it up. A silver cross hung from a string of wooden beads. Rosary beads. I slipped it over my head and tucked the silver cross under the jacket I wore. This might help me. I thought of the Cleaners. The bad smell making my stomach churn seemed so much stronger here. Whatever it was, was coming from under the pew. There was something else sticking out from under the large bundle of material. A brown leather strap. My head was telling me to leave it alone, that whatever was under this large pile of material should stay there and not be disturbed. I reached out. I tried to pull on the strap but it seemed to be caught on something. Giving it a harder yank, the strap came free, revealing a brown satchel. I gasped, falling back onto the floor. Attached to the strap was a hand – its fingers curled tight about it.

  “Max, come here!” I shrieked, edging away from the bundle of material.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, running down the aisle toward me.

  “I think there’s someone under there.” I pointed to the material. “Look.”

  Max knelt down beside me, covering his nose. Pinching a lump of the material between his two fingers, he slowly lifted the cloth up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  The bundle of material almost seemed to ripple – like it was bobbing along on a gentle stream as Max cautiously lifted it up. Dust motes swirled up, making me choke. I waved my hands about trying to clear the air. The waft of rotting flesh made me gag.

  “I know this is gonna sound really dumb, but after every
thing we’ve seen, do you think whatever is under this material is definitely dead?” I whispered, grabbing hold of Max’s hand, stopping him from pulling the material any further.

  He smiled nervously. “I don’t think it’s dumb to think that – I was wondering the same.” He took a deep breath. “Ready?”

  I nodded my head. “Do it”.

  Max pulled the cloth away. A body of a man lay curled up on its side. Its bony, fleshy fingers grasped a wooden cross. The clothes it had on were wet through from the decaying flesh.

  “It’s a priest,” whispered Max, giving the body a poke with his fingers, making sure it wasn’t suddenly going to get up.

  I leant over the priest. He was still wearing his dog collar.

  “How long do you think he’s been here?” I whispered. “I know he’s decomposing, but there’s still a lot of him left intact.”

  Max shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “I wonder what happened,” I mumbled, cautiously taking the satchel from its fleshy grasp. “He must have been hiding – why else would he be curled up under the pew?”

  “Let’s cover him back up,” said Max, pulling what was left of the material back over the priest. “Is there anything in the satchel?”

  I stood up and unfastened the buckles. Peering inside, I could see a bible, money, and some other kind of book. I pulled it out.

  “A journal,” I said, turning it over in my hands. I read the name on the front. “Father William.”

  Flicking through the yellowed pages, I could see entries had been made on different dates.

  “Looks like some kind of diary,” whispered Max over my shoulder. “We should check it out. It might have some clue as to what was going on in this chapel and what happened to Father William.”

  “Okay, but let’s sit near the door. I need some fresh air,” I said, walking down the aisle, the smell of Father Williams’s body making me want to puke.

  We sat down on a pew near to one of the stained glass windows, the light was a little better there and I could see Father Williams’s handwriting more clearly.

  Opening up the pages, I said, “Where shall we start?”

  “Somewhere in the middle,” Max whispered. He shifted up close, resting his arm behind me on the back of the pew.

  Turning to the centre of the journal, I took a deep breath and started to read.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  1st May 2014

  I fear something odd is going on here. The chapel and Cruor Pharma are not how I remember them to be. I can’t quite put my finger on it. They are no longer the happy places I can recall. The staff look troubled and very few of them come to visit the chapel. Those that do, seem frightened and withdrawn.

  I know the role of Cruor Pharma has changed somewhat over the years – the old hospital stands empty and the new building works more towards scientific study and developing drugs for cures. But still, the modern progression does not explain the heavy atmosphere that seems to dwell amongst the staff and grounds of this place. It’s like the air has been tainted – no – infected by something dark.

  I feel silly writing this. It sounds like the ramblings of an old fool but I am shocked by Doctor Middleton. Why hasn’t he aged? Why does he look no older than he did all those years ago? It makes no sense to me. It isn’t possible. And what about Doctor Fletcher? He still looks as young as ever. Maybe it’s a new drug they’ve developed? No, that’s just daft. No drug could do that.

  Doctor Middleton was very cold towards me today. I could almost feel the hate coming from him. I didn’t feel welcome. Maybe I’ll try to talk to him another day soon. Perhaps I just caught him on a bad day?

  Whatever is going on here, I shall do my best to serve the staff who come and see me. I hope that given time, they will trust me and realise I am here to help.

  “Well, there’s not much there that we don’t already know,” frowned Max. “Except the bit about Middleton and Fletcher not aging.”

  “That is weird,” I whispered. “I saw a picture of Middleton in that old newspaper I picked up back inside the hospital. It was taken in 1974, I think. The picture wasn’t very clear, but now after reading what Father William wrote I think that maybe he’s right. Doctor Middleton still looks the same, but that was nearly forty years ago – how can that be?”

  “Let’s read some more,” said Max, leaning over me and turning the page of the journal.

  I looked down at Father Williams’s handwriting and continued to read.

  20th May 2014

  My visitors to the chapel are dwindling. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong? Is it just that they are not a religious bunch? Perhaps I need to try harder? It’s almost like they fear the chapel – or is it me they fear? But why?

  I spoke to one of the porters today – Danny. He’s been to the chapel a few times now. He sits at the back near the door. Keeps himself to himself. A quiet lad. He wanted to know my thoughts on spirits. I was rather taken aback – not the kind of question I would have expected from him. He seemed agitated. He kept looking over his shoulder like he was afraid that someone was listening. I have to admit – I feel rather spooked myself after some of the things he spoke of. He thinks he’s seen ghosts. Black, shadowy shapes that float through doors, wandering through the old hospital. He says he’s heard staff talk about a delivery of coffins containing bodies for research that turned up years ago. Apparently the rumour is that when the coffins were opened, the hospital changed – the staff changed. I don’t know what to think. Ghosts and stories about coffins seem rather far-fetched to me, but what do I know? This place is strange. Each week I turn up at the chapel and it feels more forlorn than ever. I will pray for Danny. I know God will watch over him. I hope he comes back to see me.

  Tomorrow I shall be stopping by Doctor Middleton’s office. Maybe he’ll be more talkative this time. I’m not sure if I will be bold enough to enquire the secret of his youthful looks. It may cause me some trouble if he thinks I’m sticking my nose in. I don’t want him complaining to the Bishop.

  “What do you think about that?” I turned and looked at Max.

  “The coffin shit seems weird. If the hospital and its staff changed when those coffins were opened, then there must have been something in them but… I don’t know, Kassidy,” sighed Max, “It’s everything I’ve never believed in. But we’ve seen some fucked up shit since we’ve been here and I think we have to face the fact that ghosts exist.”

  “When I first saw what had happened to the others on Ward 2 – you know, Wendy and Howard, I kept telling myself it was because of the VA20, that the drug had sent them insane, but…” I trailed off, my skin covered in goose bumps. “But it doesn’t explain what the Cleaners are, it doesn’t explain what has happened to Carly, and it certainly doesn’t explain the weird behaviour of the doctors. When I was with Doctor Fletcher, one minute he was nice and then in a split second it was like he had taken on a completely different personality – like a schizophrenic.”

  “Read some more, the journal might give us the next piece of the jigsaw,” said Max, tapping his finger on the page.

  21st May 2014

  What a strange meeting. Doctor Middleton seemed vacant. It was obvious right from the start that he wasn’t interested in anything I had to say. Anyone would think I had the plague the way he kept his distance from me. I think the man could be suffering from some kind of mental disease. His behaviour was bizarre. There is something strange behind those eyes of his –I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. He is not the man I remember him to be. His reaction to me when I suggested that I come into the hospital to talk with the staff was panic. Then aggression when I tried to push the idea further. He made it quite clear that I was to stay in the chapel. I tried to talk to him about the old days when I would visit the patients on the wards but he seemed to have no memory of it. How could he have forgotten?

  I casually slipped in a comment about how good he looked after all these years – his response
was zero. He just glared back and ushered me out of his office.

  I have to admit that I feel a sense of great relief now I am back inside the chapel. This is not a nice place to work. I feel more and more unease every time I have to visit Cruor Pharma. I wish this wasn’t part of my parish.

  I turned the page. The next few entries were missing, ripped out from the journal. So I carried on reading from the next time that Father William had written down his thoughts.

  16th June 2014.

  I don’t know what to do? Should I send a letter to the Bishop with my concerns? No. He will think I am mad. Am I mad? This place has me doubting my sanity. I feel something. I don’t know what it is? Something is pushing me away. When I walk through the gates to Cruor Pharma, it’s like a shadow falls upon me. Watches me. Follows me. Am I paranoid? Maybe.

  Danny came to see me. He’s leaving Cruor Pharma. He looks ruined – wretched – a troubled soul. He says he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s seen things. Heard things. I feel disturbed – unsettled. He told me about a drug trial. A drug trial that hadn’t been authorised. It went wrong. Danny heard the screams. Saw one of the patients. It looked like – as he describes it – a zombie. I don’t want to believe him. The truth scares me – has me questioning everything I have ever believed in. I told Danny he must go to the police. He doesn’t want to, he’s too scared. I tried to calm him. I hope he will take my advice. I must pray. The Lord will comfort me. I must have faith.

  I looked at Max. “Shall I carry on?”

  He nodded his head. “There might be something about my brother’s drug trial. He came here three months ago, in July. Has Father William written anything for that month?”

  Flicking through the pages, I stopped. “There’s an entry here.”

  “Read it out,” whispered Max, squeezing up tight to me so he could see the page.