The Ghost of Graylock

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The Ghost of Graylock Page 3

by Dan Poblocki


  When Neil raised his camera and flashed another picture, his fellow explorers all exclaimed their version of a yelp. “Sorry,” Neil whispered.

  “It seems like everyone left in such a hurry,” said Bree.

  “Maybe once the staff knew they were being forced out,” Eric suggested, “they realized that packing up, or even cleaning, would be pointless.”

  “Still …,” said Bree, unable to comprehend what had gone on here during the institution’s final days.

  Neil understood what she was feeling — it was as though they had stumbled upon a car crash, its victims long gone. This must be what Alexi and Mark experienced in places like this. He lowered his camera and simply observed the stillness, listened to the silence.

  Outside, a duck settled noisily upon the lake, quack-quacking, splashing the water’s surface with frantic wings.

  “What’s upstairs, I wonder?” said Wesley. He’d noticed what looked like a large cage in the far corner of the room, next to the party table. Inside white mesh bars, a set of metal steps stretched up into the ceiling.

  “Or downstairs,” said Neil. Underneath the “up” staircase, blocked by another wire door, more steps disappeared into the floor.

  “Look,” said Eric, pointing at a sign on the wall.

  Dormitory

  Up

  Boiler/ Exit

  Down

  “That’s where they slept,” said Wesley.

  “Wouldn’t hurt to check it out,” said Bree. And suddenly, Neil wished she hadn’t made that assumption. The darkness — both upstairs and down — seemed to hum at him tunelessly.

  “The cage door looks locked,” said Eric as Wesley reached out to grab at the grating. But the door squeaked open. Wesley raised an eyebrow, and Eric shrugged.

  Neil grappled with his flashlight and flicked it back on. Beyond the lip of the highest stair, another hallway stretched off into inky darkness. “Guess I’m first,” he said unsurely as he moved away from the comforting sunshine of the common room.

  Once he’d made it to the top, he turned around to make sure his friends had followed. Their wide eyes reflected his own nervousness. The hallway up here unsettled him more than any area they’d already wandered through. Maybe it was that multiple doors stood in opposite walls every few feet, closed and blocking out whatever light they might otherwise have let in. Maybe it was the curve of the hallway at the end of the corridor that appeared to lead off into nothingness. Maybe it was the intimacy of knowing that this was where the patients had slept, lived, dreamed — patients who had not been much older than Neil. He wondered what they had done to end up here. What had been wrong with them?

  When his father had left, something shifted inside Linda, as if she’d become possessed by the spirit of someone else. This new mom frightened Neil; he didn’t know her at all. She cried. She screamed. She was silent for hours at a time. New Mom’s emergence made him wonder if he had a shadow person hiding inside him too. He certainly felt like it sometimes — especially when he thought of his parents. What would happen if the shadow decided to come out? Would that mean he was crazy? Would they send him away to a place like Graylock Hall?

  When you come back, I’ll be better, she’d told Neil finally. I promise. I’ve got a lot of work to do. Neil understood it wasn’t the kind of work you got paid for. You paid for it.

  The others stepped forward, crossing Neil and his flashlight. Eric opened the closest door. Sunlight flooded the immediate hallway. He noticed a placard on the wall. This was room number 1. Inside, dust motes swirled above a small twin bed, where a rumpled and stained pillow sat propped against a greenish-brownish wall. The room itself was not much bigger than the bed itself, and the space was otherwise empty.

  Were they all the same? Neil wondered. He couldn’t imagine spending ten minutes alone in this room, never mind a night, or a week, a month, a year.

  More …

  “Guys,” he whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t —”

  But the group had separated, opening different doors as they moved down the hallway. Neil gave in and comforted himself by taking pictures as he drifted from room to room. The walls in one had been decorated with posters, mostly of cute baby animals with not-quite-witty slogans printed underneath the images. One poster instructed a kitten who was dangling precariously from a tree branch to HANG IN THERE, BABY.

  When Neil peeked his head back outside into the hallway, he realized he was alone.

  In the hallway behind him, where he and his friends had opened the doors, light filled the space. But that far bend in the corridor ahead remained as shadowed as before. If everyone had gone on without him, why had none of them opened the doors like they’d done before?

  A quiet shuffling sound came from the darkness.

  Neil’s flashlight provided a tiny bit of comfort as he made his way around the bend. His light revealed another long passage that extended farther than the beam. A door about halfway down the new hall was open; however, no sunlight streamed forth. If the room had a window, something was blocking it. A curtain. A board. He crept closer.

  “Hello?” His voice sounded louder than he’d meant it to. No one answered. That shuffling sound continued. Soft soles on a slick floor. Neil paused, his skin prickling. “Hello?” He whispered this time. Again, no answer. He tried to take another step forward, but he found he couldn’t move. His muscles felt like Jell-O, his shoes like cement bricks.

  Still holding the flashlight in place, he raised his camera to adjust the settings, preparing to snatch a hurried shot in case something unpleasant suddenly appeared before him. Neil forced his feet forward, dragging his sneakers against the tile, the rubber soles squealing their opposition.

  He came to the edge of the door frame. The placard on this open door read 13. Lucky number 13. Leaning forward with the flashlight, Neil peered around the corner.

  A white figure stood in the center of the small bedroom. She seemed to be staring at the shuttered window. Her long brown hair hung almost halfway down her back. She clenched her fists at her sides. But she did not turn, not even when Neil let out a small groan.

  He’d found Nurse Janet.

  THE FIGURE SWAYED SLIGHTLY, and Neil immediately realized his mistake. She was not dressed in white, but the bright flashlight had made it seem so.

  Bree was wearing the same blue T-Shirt and shorts as when they’d left the aunts’ house. That was how he recognized her.

  Still, something was strange here. Hadn’t she heard him calling? “Bree …,” Neil said quietly, calmly. She made no sign that she’d heard him. “Bree,” he said, louder this time. Again, nothing. This was weird. Too much like his mom. Neil had worried about his own shadow person; should he have been worrying about Bree too?

  Neil stepped through the doorway. Even though the room was about the same size as the other ones, this one felt smaller. Claustrophobic. As if the walls were moving in on him.

  He touched Bree’s shoulder. But she did not turn.

  Instead, she simply said, “There’s something about this room….” Her voice sounded foggy, as if she’d just woken from a deep sleep.

  “Let’s go.” Neil’s flashlight flickered. A flash of panic crackled his skin. Shadows leapt out from the walls momentarily before retreating swiftly back into place. Bree finally turned to look at him, but her eyes were blank, as if she were peering through him. Several seconds passed before she blinked and appeared to recognize him. “Come on,” Neil tried again. “We’ve got to find Wesley and Eric.”

  “Who?”

  Neil clutched the flashlight even harder and noticed his hand shaking. He answered slowly, carefully. “We came here with my friend Wesley Baptiste and his brother, Eric. Remember?” Under different circumstances she’d have poked his chest, thinking he was teasing, but now she merely nodded, thankful for the reminder. Neil reached out to take her hand, but she stepped backward toward the blackened window.

  “This room …,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
>
  “What about it?” Neil said, frustrated, as he moved toward the doorway. At that moment, he only wanted to get back down to the common room.

  “Shh.” Bree cocked her head, listening to what sounded like silence. “Do you hear that?”

  A chill wrapped Neil’s body, head to toe. “Hear what?”

  “Whispering.”

  The flashlight winked out. Darkness came like eyes shut tight. Neil and Bree collided with each other before bouncing away. They both screamed, then froze, paralyzed by fear and a dizzying sense of disorientation.

  “We’re fine,” Neil said a second later. “The battery died.” He flicked the flashlight switch on and off, trying without success to milk the last of the juice from it. They were blind. After shoving the device into his bag, he managed to find Bree’s hand in the darkness. “Come on —”

  WHAM.

  The room shook. Neil felt himself fall backward, tripping and landing on a damp mattress. Bree’s voice lifted dramatically, “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, standing. “Let’s go.” He dashed toward the doorway, only to meet a blossom of pain — his forehead and his nose felt as if they’d exploded. He groaned. Something wet dripped over his lip. He stuck out his tongue and tasted blood.

  “The door must have slammed shut,” said Bree, a disembodied voice beside him. Back to normal. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

  He wiped at his face, the warm liquid coating the back of his hand. “I’m bleeding.”

  “Your nose?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pinch it. Up near the bridge.” Bree touched his shoulder. Neil heard her fidgeting with the doorknob. “This thing is stuck.” Neil’s entire face throbbed, but this news made the rest of his body feel numb. “Can you help?” Bree asked.

  Ignoring the pain, Neil reached out blindly. He grabbed the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. Even when he threw his weight backward, the door refused to give. “Are we trapped in here?”

  “Wesley!” Bree cried. “Eric? We know you’re out there!” She listened to the silence for several seconds. “This is not funny! Let us out!” She pounded on the metal door. It reminded him of thunder. They could use some lightning.

  The camera! It had a flash. Maybe there was a latch on the door that they’d missed.

  He grabbed at the camera, which still hung from his wrist, but lost precious seconds as it slid from his grip, his fingers trembling and slick with his own blood. Finally, he clutched the camera’s metal casing and held the device out before him. “Stand back,” he said. He pressed the shutter button, and cold light burst inside the small room. When the afterimage of the flash died down, the room seemed darker still. Even if he had seen the details of the doorknob, he wouldn’t have been able to figure it out now. “Useless,” he whispered.

  “Not useless,” said Bree. “Turn on the view screen. It’s got to give off a bit of light.”

  Licking his lip, tasting the coppery liquid there, Neil blindly pressed a couple buttons. The screen on the back of the camera glowed blue. He held it up to the doorknob. It appeared plain, round, silver. If there was a lock at all, it was on the outside. “What the heck! How are we supposed to —”

  Someone shushed him.

  But it wasn’t Bree.

  Wide-eyed, he and his sister stared at each other, their faces lit by the camera from below. Slowly, they turned. At the other side of the room, near the window, a dark shape stood completely still. It looked like one of their own shadows. Neil knew this was impossible. The camera’s light was between them and the shape. Their shadows should have been cast on the door behind them. Shaking, unable to speak, Neil held up the camera, trying to see who was there.

  The figure shifted forward. In the dim light, Neil made out some faint details. Long dark hair. Clothed in a light dress, possibly a uniform.

  Neil tried to scream, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink. Even his bloody nose felt as if it had stopped flowing.

  Then, just like the flashlight, the camera died.

  SOMETHING SHOVED NEIL AND BREE FORWARD. The floor tilted. The darkness spiraled. They were falling. Spinning.

  But no …

  The door had merely opened with a swift jolt, knocking into them, sending them off balance. Neil took a step and caught himself.

  “What are you guys doing in here?” Wesley’s voice came from the hallway. A sliver of dim light broke the curtain of shadow.

  Without thinking, Neil yanked the door the rest of the way open. He grabbed his sister’s arm and together they leapt out of the room. “Run!” he called to Wesley, who stood momentarily stunned behind them before springing forward. The trio sprinted toward the bend in the corridor, where daylight greeted them like a parent waiting with open arms. They raced toward the stairs. Neil did not look back.

  Memories of the Nurse Janet story flickered through his head, like old film from a loud projector, and all he could think of now was her strong hand reaching for his collar. At any moment, he would be caught, choked. As his lower body continued to race forward, his feet would flip upward. He’d fall flat on his back, looking at the ceiling as her pale face came closer and closer, glaring down at him as she —

  “Watch out!” Bree grabbed Neil’s arm just as he was about to topple headfirst off the top stair. He swung out and clasped the railing, pinning himself against the wall.

  Rattled as he was, Neil managed to peer back into the darkness at the corridor’s bend. His heart galloped; his lungs burned. His eyes scanned the distance for any movement, anything at all. But nothing was there … nothing he could see anyway. “Can we not stop here, please?” he said.

  “Are you okay?” said Wesley, following Neil and Bree briskly down the stairs. “You’re bleeding, Neil.”

  “I ran into the door back in that room.”

  “I heard you guys shouting. Did you see something?”

  At the bottom of the stairs, Neil finally found his breath. The sunlight had sunk to a position where it hit the lake and reflected golden light all around the common room.

  “I don’t know what we saw,” Bree said. “Where’s your brother?”

  “I’m here.” Eric came through a doorway on the other side of the cake table. He was holding what looked like a brown file folder. “I found an office. You would not believe the things they left behind in this place.” When he saw the state of the trio, his eyes grew wide. “What happened?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Neil. “We’re leaving.”

  “Really?” said Eric. “But it looks like things are starting to get good.”

  “You’ve been down here for a while?” Bree asked with a scowl.

  Eric nodded slowly, wearing an almost obnoxious expression that said, What’s your problem?

  “Someone is upstairs,” said Bree, “in one of the bedrooms. She tried to lock me and Neil inside.”

  “Nurse Janet,” said Wesley unsurely.

  “No way,” said Eric, starting past them toward the staircase. Wesley grabbed his arm. Eric flung him away. “I wanna check it out for myself.” He paused, and then added, “I can’t wait to tell the band about this.”

  “They kicked you out!” Wesley shouted.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eric yanked the mesh door open and climbed the steps two at a time. He disappeared into the opening at the ceiling.

  Bree shook her head. “Forget him. I’m not spending another minute in this place.”

  Wesley blinked. “We can’t leave him up there.”

  “Why not?” said Bree. “He’s happy to leave us down here.” Her cheeks flushed red. Neil could see that all the charm she’d collected from Eric earlier had evaporated. No one messed with Bree, Neil knew. Eric would learn. “You can stay, Wesley, but I’m taking Neil with me.”

  Neil sighed. “But —”

  Wesley held up his hand. “You’re right.” Listening to the silence from upstairs, he added, “He can be a real je
rk sometimes.” He called out, “Meet us outside, Eric!”

  They didn’t receive an answer.

  The three headed back through the door of the youth ward into the long hallway, running in the direction of the crumbling gymnasium — at least, that’s where they thought they were headed. Even though Neil had marked every turn they’d made, after what had happened in room 13, his sense of direction was now screwed up — not good, since they were heading into some very dark places without a working flashlight.

  “Which way?” asked Bree at an intersection of two hallways that looked exactly like the last one they’d come to.

  “Maybe there’s a sign like before,” said Wesley, peeking around a corner.

  “But don’t we have to go down some stairs eventually?” Neil asked. In fact, through an open doorway up ahead, there was a stairwell. The group crept forward. The passage led down into complete darkness. “Is this the one we came up?”

  “I think so,” said Wesley.

  “There’s got to be another way out,” said Bree. “One that doesn’t involve us wandering around a pitch-black maze. What if we just keep going straight ahead on this floor instead?”

  “We could try that,” said Wesley. “I mean, it’s not like we’re trapped in here or anything.”

  “You’re right,” Neil answered quickly. The memory of the blindness he’d experienced upstairs swept through him. He knew he’d have nightmares tonight. Best to remain logical, levelheaded. Like Alexi and Mark. He stepped back from the stairwell and nodded down the corridor. “Let’s try this way. At the very least, if we come to a window, we can climb out. It shouldn’t be too far of a drop.”

  “I remember the second story being pretty high up,” said Bree. “And after everything else, I really don’t feel like breaking my ankle today.”

 

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