by Willow Rose
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I didn't succeed. I couldn't believe how careless my daughter suddenly was.
"I can't believe you. I’m not here for a few hours, and everything falls apart. You didn’t even make it out the door? What were you thinking?"
Maya stared at me and crossed her arms in front of her chest with a groan. "I’m not going to listen to this," she said, grabbed her backpack, and looked at Alexander. "Come. We have to get to school."
"Oh, now you wanna go to school, huh?" I yelled after them. "Tell me what would have happened if I hadn't walked in at this moment, huh?"
I didn't expect an answer, and I didn't get one. They had both rushed out of the door and slammed it behind them. I sighed profoundly, then sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing my forehead. I grabbed one of the cookies the teenagers had brought out but not even touched.
Probably busy with all the kissing, I thought to myself, tired. Instead of going to school, puh. I can't believe she would do that.
I didn't mind Maya having a boyfriend; she was, after all, seventeen. No, that wasn't why I was upset. I was angry because she let it affect her school and because she hadn't told me anything about this boy before. I didn't even know his name, and here they were…kissing? In my kitchen? I thought she told me everything, and now this? A strange boy all over my daughter? In my own house?
I shook my head and put my feet up on the chair next to me, while Kenneth attacked a stuffed animal that Sophia's youngest, Alma, had left the last time she was here. I stared at the dog for a little while, not bothering to scold him again until my phone rang. I picked it up once I saw Morten's name on my display.
"Hey. You miss me already?"
"Ha-ha, very funny. I am actually pretty stressed out right now. I’m trying to get ahold of Sven Thomsen's family in Copenhagen to tell them the bad news. But I did have time to check out the thing you asked me to yesterday."
I sat up straight. "The statement?"
"Yes, there isn't one. They never questioned Laila Lund, according to the report."
"Why not?" I asked, reaching out for another cookie. I was careful not to crunch loudly, so Morten wouldn't hear it. There was no reason for him to know I was eating cookies.
"Well, apparently, she made no sense. The day after John Andersen's disappearance, she was admitted to Fishy Pines by her family. For treatment in the very institution where she worked. When they closed the adult department shortly after since the building was falling apart, she was transferred to Lakeview Mental Institution in Sonderho. She might still be there."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hanne Carlsen yawned for the third time in a row. Her co-worker turned to look at her with a smile.
"Too much partying?" he asked.
"Very funny," Hanne said and grabbed the report her co-worker handed her, then walked back to her computer and sat down. She punched in the numbers, then felt another yawn come along and caved into it. She stared at the flickering computer screen, her eyelids feeling heavier than ever.
She sipped from the coffee cup that stood next to her and realized it was her fourth today. She'd have to cut back soon, but she was just so darn tired all the time.
All because of that stupid leak.
It had kept her awake two nights in a row. The dripping in her bathroom. She had thought it was just the faucet and tried to tighten it better the night before, but still the dripping returned last night. This morning, she had called a plumber, and her husband had stayed home to let him in. Hopefully, they would find out what it was, so she would get a better night's sleep tonight.
If only he can find the leak.
Hanne hadn't been able to figure out exactly where the leak was. But a leak there was; she had no doubt in her mind. She could hear it, and she had even found a puddle of water on the bathroom floor in the morning. Her husband, Per, kept telling her she was crazy because every time she convinced him to go look for it, there was no dripping sound. He had never heard it. Still, Hanne knew it was there.
"Can you bring me the results from last week’s tests?" Hanne asked a co-worker sitting behind her.
He handed the file to her.
"Thanks."
She opened the folder and looked at the numbers, then rubbed her forehead. "We're really making progress on this one," she said.
"Sure are," the co-worker said from behind her.
Hanne smiled and sipped her coffee, hoping for the caffeine to kick in soon. Being tired and not fully alert wasn't good in her line of work.
"Any news of subject B-3?" she asked.
The co-worker shook his head. "Nope."
"Dang it. I can't believe we actually lost a subject. That was years of hard work."
"I know," he said. "My guess is there will be more heads rolling soon."
"As there should be." They had fired only one after it happened, but several others were just as responsible, in her opinion.
Hanne grabbed the folder from the cabinet of subject B-3 and looked through it. The pictures of the girl levitating above ground had been taken right before she ran away. Corporate had decided to tone the disappearance down and not report it to the police. They didn't want any media attention and had to find the subject on their own, was the message. Hanne didn't know how the search was going, but she knew they were out there looking for her, going through the entire island. She pitied the fools standing in their way. These guys were no joke.
Finishing her coffee, Hanne felt the urge to rush to the bathroom, which wasn't so strange after four cups of coffee. She left the file on her desk, then hurried to the bathroom, went inside a stall, and closed the door. She yawned a few times more while sitting in there and while thinking about the girl they had lost. She had been testing her for years and had come really far in cracking her genetic code, and then, just like that—puff—she was gone.
Those who were responsible deserve to get fired over this, she thought to herself. You don't just lose a subject worth millions in research. Tsk.
Hanne drew in a deep breath when a noise coming from outside her stall made her freeze.
It was the sound of water leaking.
Chapter Thirty-Three
She was still there. The nice personnel at Lakeview Mental Hospital told me over the phone that Laila Lund had been a patient there since nineteen eighty-two and very rarely had visitors, and if I would like to come and see her, it would be very much appreciated.
So, I did. I drove to the southern part of the island, to Sonderho, and parked the car outside in the parking lot. It was a gorgeous old building from eighteen-hundred and ten that housed the hospital.
"Used to be a hotel," the nurse who showed me to Laila Lund's room explained. "One of the most beautiful and popular in the country, as a matter of fact. But then the owner died, and the state bought it to house patients. We believe the nice surroundings are good for them. Therapeutic. The backyard grows to be stunning in the spring. You should come out and see it."
"Well, maybe I will," I said as we reached a door and the nurse stopped. She sighed and looked at me.
"Mrs. Lund doesn't make much sense. You'll have to bear with her, all right?"
"Of course. What happened to her?" I asked. "Do you know?"
She shook her head. "Not really. Someone once mentioned that she had a shock of some sort. That tricked it. You know, a trauma of sorts. But she has never been able to tell anyone exactly what it was."
"I see," I said.
The nurse knocked on the door and opened it. "Hi there, Mrs. Lund," she said, her voice almost singing. "You have a visitor today. A famous one. The great author Emma Frost is here to see you; maybe she'll sign a book for you before she leaves, huh?"
I blushed slightly. "Sure."
"Awesome. I'll leave you two to it, then," the nurse said with a big smile, then left.
Laila Lund was sitting in a wheelchair looking out the window, her back turned to me. I approached her.
"Hi there. As t
he nurse said, my name is Emma Frost. And I’m here because I’m writing a book about…well, I don't really know what it’s about yet, but a part of it is about the disappearance of a plumber…"
I looked down at Laila Lund, who wasn't looking out the window as I had assumed, but instead sat in her chair, staring emptily into the air, a smile plastered on her face, giggling like someone had said something funny. Drool was running out of the side of her mouth. I sighed and grabbed a chair, then sat down. I wasn't quite sure what I expected to find here. I just knew I needed answers.
"So, Laila," I said. "Can you tell me anything about John Andersen and what happened to him? I think you might have been the last person ever to see him."
I turned my head and looked at the woman to see if I would get any reaction from mentioning the man's name, but nothing came. She just sat there, grinning. I exhaled, found a napkin and wiped off the drool from her face, then sat back down.
"The thing is," I said and looked out the window. "I think something horrible happened to him on that night when he disappeared. And I think you saw it. I also think the shock of what happened made you how you are today. So, if only there was a way to have you tell me exactly what it was you saw on that night. If only. Then maybe we could get to the bottom of this. I think there's a heck of a story to tell. But I can't seem to crack it open. I had hoped you could help."
Chapter Thirty-Four
The snow-covered landscape outside Laila Lund's window had me mesmerized. I sat in the chair for about an hour or so, talking to the old woman in her chair, telling her everything I knew about the story so far and even what had happened to me earlier in the year. I don't know why I did it, but I just needed it, I guess. Somehow, I felt that she, of all people, would understand it, or at least wouldn't tell me I was insane for thinking I had actually fought a guy who was centuries old, who drank the blood of certain people living here because it—for reasons I had yet to figure out—contained some strange green stuff that he needed in order to survive.
"I don't get it. I mean, why would Victor's blood be green? And why is he so close to Skye, closer than he has ever been to me?"
I chuckled, then looked at Laila Lund, who hadn't moved a muscle in all the time I had been sitting there, babbling on. I didn't even know if she was listening to me at all.
"Sorry," I said. "I just needed to unload a little. It's not that I am jealous or anything…well, maybe I am, but I want what’s best for him, don't get me wrong; it's just that I feel like I’m losing him a little bit every day. Maybe it's a natural process; I don't know."
I exhaled and looked at my phone between my hands. It was getting late, and I had to head back soon. I was disappointed that Laila Lund hadn't said a word. I knew she was sick, but I had hoped she would at least be able to speak a little, even if what she said probably wouldn't make any sense. I looked at her face, then moved a lock of hair that was blocking her view. She didn't seem to mind, though.
"What's it like in there? Does it get lonely?" I asked.
I thought about her when she was younger and how she had lived a life as a nurse, taking care of patients just like herself. Was it life's cruel irony somehow? What went on inside that body? Could she hear me? Was she trying to answer me, but her body wouldn't let her? I couldn't imagine living a life like this, not being able to talk to anyone or even look at them. Was this really a life worth living?
And that was when she finally decided to start to speak. She didn't look at me, but words simply spurted out of her so fast it was hard to find out what it was she was trying to say. It sounded almost like a nursery rhyme the way she almost sang the words.
"Wet-critters, drip-drip-drip. Little critters ha-ha-ha, small little critters, crawling up the water, drip-drip-drip. First, we saw the head, then the eyes-eyes-eyes in the water staring up at us. Blink-blink-blink. Little critter in the water, in the pipes, bang-bang-bang, banging all night. Plumber came, hurry-hurry-hurry. Must get the critters out. Ha-ha-ha! First, we saw the hair. That was what we saw, ye-e-e-s-s, that was what we saw. And then…then the eyes and the nose, nose, nose. Little wet critters, splash-splash-splash, dripping on the floor, drip-drip-drip." While speaking, Laila Lund was doing something with her fingers, and it reminded me of my own children when we sang Itsy Bitsy Spider. She still wore that grin on her face, and her eyes seemed to be rolling around in her head.
Madder than a bat.
The door opened, and the nurse from earlier came in. I looked at her.
"Is she talking about the wet critters again? I feared she might start to do that. I’m so sorry," she said and approached us. "It creeps me out. Maybe we should stop for now. Besides, Laila needs her nap now."
I rose to my feet. I threw a glance at Laila, who seemed to still be in another world. As the nurse grabbed her chair and turned her around to roll her away, she looked at me one last time, then said, while tilting her head from side to side:
"Drip-drop, drip-drop, drip-drop-DEAD!"
Chapter Thirty-Five
I made it home just in time to prepare afternoon tea. Victor stormed through the front door a few minutes later and greeted Skye, who was already waiting for him in the hallway. Me, he didn't even say hello to before he rushed out into the yard, holding Skye's hand in his.
I sighed and returned to the kitchen where my bread was baking in the oven, and then Maya came home. She slammed the door, and I heard her backpack fall to the ground. I walked out to say hello, but she was already halfway up the stairs.
"Hello?" I said. "No one wants to even say hi to their mother?"
Apparently not. Maya was probably still mad about what had happened earlier this morning. I didn't quite understand how I ended up being the bad guy in all this when she was the one who had messed up. Maya had a way of turning these things around and making me feel guilty. It was a gift.
Our afternoon tea became strange and very silent. I knocked on Maya's door, but she told me she wasn't hungry and then asked me to go away. So, it was just Victor, Skye, and me. The kids didn't say a word but were obviously communicating on other levels, since they kept snickering and giggling. I don't think I had ever heard Victor snicker before.
"So, how was your day at school?" I asked my son in the hope he would engage just a little with his mother.
He didn't even turn his head in my direction. He just kept staring at Skye and she at him. It was like their minds were locked into one another's and there was nothing else in this world.
This can't be healthy, can it?
"Victor?" I asked. "Victor?"
He still didn't react. It was like he was completely detached from this world, my world, the real world.
The kids rose to their feet, then stormed out into the yard again without even a word to me. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, sipping my hot chocolate and finishing my buttered bread with jam. I was wondering about Victor when my thoughts drifted off to earlier this day and my visit with the crazy Laila Lund. I shuddered slightly when thinking about her and those rolling eyes and the words she had said. I was trying to make sense of it, which I kind of knew was impossible, but part of me still desired to.
Wet critters? Dripping on the floor? What did she mean? Critters in the pipes? What kind of critters?
I got up, walked to the bathroom in the hallway, and stood outside, staring at the closed door. I hadn't had been in there since I had seen something slip into the drain, something big and wet. The plumber had told me it could be frogs, but somehow, I didn't think that's what it was. It was something else, and the very notion of it made me shiver. I couldn't escape the thought that so often I woke up at night because the pipes moaned and groaned and sometimes even thumped. What the heck was down there?
Little critters in the water, in the pipes, bang-bang-bang, banging all night.
I shook my head almost violently. This was silly. It was more than that; it was stupid. Ridiculous, even. Insane to listen to some crazy woman babbling along.
I scoffed and wa
lked back to the kitchen, grabbed the plates, and began to clean up. I was making Danish meatballs—Frikadeller—for dinner and put on my apron to start preparing it when there was a knock on my door.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Hanne shuddered. It wasn't because it was cold inside the bathroom. No, the reason for her shivering was the sound of the dripping water. Usually, that sound wouldn't make the hair rise on her neck the way it did now, but these drips were different somehow. They sounded exactly like what she had heard the night before, and the one before that. That same sound of water dripping, keeping her awake all night.
Had it followed her? To her work?
Nonsense. How would that be possible? Don't be stupid. You're a woman of science. There's probably just a leak here as well. Someone left a faucet on. Don't be silly, Hanne.
Hanne closed her eyes and imagined herself on Crete with Per. They went there every year in February when the sky was dark gray in Denmark, and the sun barely rose. February was the worst month in this country, Hanne believed, and she always tried to get away. Just to get a few rays of sunlight and maybe a swim in the ocean. She couldn't wait to go again. Things had been tense at work lately. Ever since they lost the subject. They had all been interviewed about their role and whereabouts on that day when there had been a breach. B-3 had been her subject, her research. And now she was gone. Still, they didn't know whom to blame for the disappearance. No one knew how the subjects managed to get out of this secure location. It seemed impossible, at least they had thought it was. For days, they had searched for B-3 on the island and around the lab, but B-3 remained gone without a trace. Hanne couldn't quite grasp how the subject would even manage to survive without being seen. The world out there wasn't a place for her. Wouldn't they have heard about it if someone had found her? Hanne believed they would.
