Braden and Nick wouldn’t understand. They’d only be a distraction, treating it like a circus. And I felt it deserved more respect than that. Kaitlin and I needed to go alone. To explore every inch of the place, without fooling around or vandalizing anything. I just felt like we needed to go in a different mindset this time.
I explained my thinking to Kaitlin, and she pushed back.
“It’s not safe, Grace,” she said. “We need them as our protection.”
“We do not,” I shot back at her. “We’ll go during the day and obviously won’t put ourselves in any dangerous situations. We just need to look around again, Kaitlin. On our own, so we can focus.”
She rolled her eyes, acknowledging her acceptance of my plan, however much she didn’t like it.
“When?” she asked flatly.
I paused for a second, and then said, “Today.”
Kaitlin was pissed, acting like going back to the asylum was the last thing she’d ever want to do. But, ironically, she pulled up in front of my house within minutes of our decision to go.
“I can’t believe your mom let you take the car,” I squealed, climbing in.
“Oh, shit. That reminds me.” She grabbed her phone. “I need to put this on ghost-mode again, so she doesn’t track me. She thinks I’m just hanging out with you and going to the mall.” She updated her tracking app, then put the car in gear. “Are we sure about this?”
I clicked my seat belt. “Yup. We don’t have to stay for long. I just need to know if any of that shit was real. Like, if any of it happens again, then we know something big is going on. If not, then yeah, maybe it was all just our heads playing tricks on us.”
Kaitlin shook her head and pulled out. “Maybe we won’t even be able to find it again. Maybe it doesn’t even exist.”
“Whatever.” I glanced out my window.
Her reluctance was annoying. It made no sense she wasn’t just as frantic about this as I was. Sure, it was scary, but there was no way we could ignore this and pretend like it wasn’t happening.
“I can’t believe your mom let you out of the house.” Her words broke my train of thought.
“She doesn’t know.” I huffed. “She’s at work. Probably until late again.”
It used to bother me that she worked so much, but now I saw it as a blessing. All she did was hover judgmentally anyway, always wondering where I was going, who I was with, and if I’d been partaking in the sins of today’s youth. I just wanted her to stay as far away from me as possible.
I stared out the window as we drove along the orchard roads, wondering what might happen when we got there. The place was everything Kaitlin and I ever dreamed of, like all the past summers we spent searching for ancient cemeteries and creepy urban legends. The mystery of the burned-down orphanage was our favorite. The stone-foundation ruins and sections of the basement were all that remained of the orphanage and were believed to be haunted. We’d explored that site so many times, though, it wasn’t even spooky anymore.
But now we had a true mystery. It held secrets that scratched at our minds, never allowing it to be forgotten. We should be resting, but somehow the pull of that place was stronger than anything else.
I glanced up, catching a glimpse of the water tower.
“There.” I pointed. “Pull in down that road.”
Kaitlin took the turn hard, causing the tires to squeal beneath us. I swayed, pressing against my door as we took the sharp corner.
“Sorry,” she said, fighting the pull in the steering wheel. “Didn’t want to miss it.”
My face pressed against my window, and I stared out past a group of mature evergreens that shielded an open field. Black spike fencing hid behind the brush, and I caught sight of its ivy-covered gate. My mouth pressed to the side as I contemplated what the secluded area might be.
“I think the pull-off is just up ahead a bit,” I said, craning my neck back for a final look at the hidden field.
“I see it,” she said as a twitch jolted through her entire body. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Have you looked this place up? It has some pretty disturbing stories about its patients. Like, the criminally insane.”
I glanced at my phone. It was true. I’d done a bit of research on the asylum, and I was unsettled by what I’d found. Abusive conditions, unethical treatment methods, a clinical research lab, notorious inmates.
“Like the boy who killed his parents?” I said.
“Yes! I saw that too,” she interjected. “What did you find about it?”
“Not much. Just that he was held in the asylum but had no memory of why he was there. Like it never happened.”
“Same. They probably had no idea how to treat him,” she added. “Like a criminal or like a mental patient.”
“There were a lot of people like that,” I said. “They were kept in the high-security ward. But then there were the people whose families had them sectioned against their will.”
“And others who signed themselves in.” She huffed. “They had no idea there wasn’t a line on the form for signing themselves out.” Kaitlin shrugged as she turned the car down the narrow lane leading to the institution.
The sound of the tires crunching on the broken pavement filled the car as she moved slowly over it. She pulled to the side of the road near the sign we’d originally found. I stared at the stone monument and its original inscription, Blackwood Insane Asylum, and a deathly chill ran through me.
“Ready?” Kaitlin asked.
I stared up the old road toward the clearing where the asylum stood. A dull ache throbbed behind my eyes as if to warn me from what I might see. I rubbed them for longer than necessary, attempting to wipe away any disturbing visions or images that might still linger from the last time we were there.
I blinked at Kaitlin, holding down the nausea that rose in my throat from the clamp on my gut.
“Ready,” I replied.
I stumbled on chunks of concrete as we walked toward the entrance to the grounds of the asylum. Thin streaks of gray clouds covered the sky, making the brightness of day easier on my eyes. Light and sound sensitivity were some of the most common symptoms of concussions, and I hadn’t been passed over in those areas. Fatigue, heightened emotions, and cognitive challenges like confusion and difficulty making decisions were several of the other symptoms I’d been warned of, but I fought back on those. My brain had always been one-hundred-percent reliable. I was a sharp, quick-thinker, and I refused to accept any less.
Still, I wasn’t quite myself yet. The healing process was slow and frustrating. All physical signs of the accident, like bruising or sore muscles, were gone. But my damn head was still foggy as if someone filled it with cotton.
“Do you think it’s going to rain?” Kaitlin’s voice jolted me.
Shading my eyes as I lifted my head, I noticed darker clouds moving in. I checked my weather app.
“It says forty-percent chance later, so we’re good for now,” I said. “I smell it in the air, though. It’s coming.”
“You smell the rain?” Kaitlin glanced over with raised eyebrows.
I slowed for a second under her scrutiny, realizing I’d never smelled the rain before. Or I’d never noticed, anyway. Right now, it was clear as day, but rain was coming.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I think I’ve heard people say that before, and I kind of just noticed it myself.”
“Well, let me know when it starts to get closer, so we can make a run for the car,” she said with a chuckle.
We stepped out of the overgrown wooded area, and the clearing of the grounds opened up in front of us. The red brick buildings stood waiting for their visit, as if each one vied for our attention. And every single one had mine. I’d need a full month at least to explore them, one by one.
But there was a pull that drew me back to the wards near the dining hall. The women’s wards. Tom had described them to us as the Excited Ward, the Convulsing Ward, the Untidy Ward, and the Quiet Ward. I needed to see th
em again.
“Let’s go this way.” I pointed along the road that led to the wards. “I want to have a good look at those buildings.”
Kaitlin slowed. “I forgot how creepy this place was,” she mumbled. “And this time, with no sun, it’s even creepier.”
She was right. The last time we were here, the sun brought the place to life, reflecting bright rays off the old lead glass windows at the top floors of the buildings and shining bright orange hues off the red brick exterior of the wards. But now, everything was dull and gray.
We strolled along the crumbling pavement that must have once seen thousands of patients. I pictured them walking in head-down silence with stoic nurses at the front and back of the lines to keep order.
A flash of the hanging tree caught my eye. My eyes darted to Kaitlin as she took it in.
“Do you see anything?” I whispered.
“No.” She shook her head. “Thank God.” She turned away from it toward the row of wards along the outer edge of the grounds.
I tried to imagine what it would have been like to be confined to one of the wards. The gothic architecture was unsettling in its boarded-up, abandoned state, but even when alive and bustling, I couldn’t picture its beauty. The buildings were ominous and foreboding. Prison-like.
“We need to explore that one.” I gestured to the Excited Ward. It was the one in the middle of the others. The one that had mesmerized us the last time we were there. Something about it pulled me closer.
“That’s the freaky one,” Kaitlin replied. “I’m not going near that one.”
“We have to, Kaitlin,” I pushed. “It’s the one that matters. That’s why it’s freaky. Come on.” I took her arm, pulling her along with me to the front of the ward.
She kept her gaze down, refusing to look directly at it. But I was determined to learn its secrets and I stared at its entrance, daring it to open up to me.
Seven crumbling concrete steps led up to the boarded front door. Rolls of peeling white paint hung from the side pillars and crown moldings that framed the entryway. A crooked metal lamp, like one seen in an old medical examination room, hung from the overhang above the door. A large arched window high above kept watch through its array of small glass panes. I strained to see through the glass for a glimpse into the top floor of the building, but only the reflection of gray sky and branches from a nearby tree could be seen.
I moved up the front walkway toward the steps.
“Wait,” Kaitlin said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just gonna see if there’s any weakness at the door. You know. To see if we can get in.”
“Are you nuts?” she hissed.
I walked up the steps, minding my footing on the broken concrete, careful to not damage it any more. On the landing, I stepped closer to the door and put my hands on the plywood covering. Solid screws, positioned at regular intervals all around its perimeter, held it firm. I turned my attention to the side windows that framed the door, and I pressed on the boards that covered them. They, too, were sealed tight. I wished I’d brought a screwdriver or something I could wedge in behind them.
I turned back to Kaitlin. “They’re boarded tight,” I said.
She exhaled for miles and glanced back the way we’d come, likely hoping it was time to go.
“Follow me,” I said as I hopped off the stairs and moved around to the side of the building. “Let’s look for weaknesses around back.”
Maybe there would be a loose board or a low window that hadn’t been sealed well.
“The sign says ‘Entry is prohibited. Danger. Police take notice,’” she said. “Have you not seen the signs?” She pointed to two different postings. “That one says cancer on it. Asbestos warning. That shit’s dangerous.”
“They have to post all those warnings,” I said. “That way, the town’s not liable if someone gets hurt. It’s a ‘proceed at your own risk’ disclaimer, basically.”
“Um, that’s your la-la voice talking,” Kaitlin grumbled. “You know, the one who says you’re lost in your fantasy world. The one full of rainbows and unicorns. This is real, Grace. And it’s dangerous.”
I chuckled at her insult, but she was right in a way. Any time I tried to convince her to do something scary or devious, she said I used my ‘la-la voice’ to try to make it seem okay. And it was true—I was using it now.
I hurried to the rear of the building, my eyes widening at the immense size of the ward. It went farther back than I’d expected, and two separate wings moved out along the two sides, creating a U-shape at the back. Within the courtyard of the U were countless windows and low doors hiding in sunken stairwells to the basement.
I stared at Kaitlin in shock. Her wide eyes proved she was just as overwhelmed.
“Over there.” A muffled voice caught my attention.
My head shot in the direction of a girl’s voice from high above, and I scanned the top windows of the buildings. I searched for any movement or possible cause of the sound. Then I moved my eyes to the inner corner of the U to a stairwell that led down to a weathered basement door. The boarding looked rotted and broken.
I glanced up in the direction of the voice, but I saw nothing.
“Over there,” I said to Kaitlin. “That door looks promising.”
Chapter 10
We crept toward the rotted basement door at the inner corner of the U-shape at the rear of the ward. I glanced once more to the windows above where I thought I’d heard the voice of a girl call to me. Logic told me it was my imagination or a trick of the wind, but my intuition nagged at my gut as if we were supposed to be here—to get inside the Excited Ward.
My heart rate quickened as my adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always wanted to explore an abandoned place like this, only this one exceeded every expectation I ever had. The ruins of an insane asylum went far beyond anything I could have hoped for.
“Holy crap.” I turned to Kaitlin as I approached the basement door. “The screws are rotted out. And the plywood is falling apart.” I scanned around to be sure no one was watching, then stepped down the concrete stairs.
The metal railings on either side were rusted to near disintegration, and a pile of leaves and mud had accumulated at the landing below. My sneakers squished into the black muck as I kicked away some of the leaves that bunched up at the bottom of the damp, splintering board.
Kaitlin fearfully peered over her shoulder. “What are you going to do?”
Reaching my fingers behind the board, I tugged. A chunk of plywood came loose in my hands and fell to the ground. I gripped the side again and pulled more gently, jimmying the entire board from its housing.
“It’s coming off,” I whispered in astonishment as I gazed in behind the barrier. “Shit! I can see the metal door behind it.”
I peeked around the jamb, searching for the doorknob, and saw only the round housing where the knob used to be. It had been broken off. When I pushed on the cold, rusted door, it pressed inward with stiff resistance.
“It’s open,” I squealed. “Come on. Squeeze through with me.”
Pulling the plywood outward, I pressed behind it and pushed my weight against the metal door. It gave way enough for me to pry myself through, and I stumbled into the musty space within the lower floor of the building. I shot my eyes in every direction, searching for any sign of anyone or anything, but the space was silent.
“Hurry up,” I called to Kaitlin. “Don’t leave me in here alone.”
Kaitlin bounced in place with indecisive nervous energy.
“Kaitlin,” I pressed.
“Okay,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
She squeezed her way in and stood against the doorframe, frozen. I stepped past her, pulled on the plywood to make it look like it hadn’t been disturbed, then closed the metal door to the point just before it settled into its frame…just in case it decided to lock somehow…on its own.
Light entered the space through the loose sides of plywood boards that cover
ed each window, but I still pulled out my phone to use its flashlight. I aimed my light beam in a steady motion across the entire room. Old metal file cabinets lined the side wall and taped boxes, blackened by mildew, were piled on top of them. A rusted bookcase keeled to one side from the weight of an old-fashioned typewriter and a film projector that still had two reels attached to it. More boxes labeled ‘confidential’ filled the shelves of the decrepit bookcase, and wooden clipboards were strewn all over.
“It’s a storage room or something,” I whispered.
Dusty beams of light shot across the room from the narrow seams at the windows, illuminating the peeling paint from the walls around us. Layer after layer, exposing assorted colors of past decades, rolled down the walls on every square inch. At the far side of the room, my eyes landed on a chipped white door with two rows of small-paned windows at the top, four on each row. It was slightly ajar, inviting us farther into the secrets of the ward.
“This is insane,” Kaitlin whispered. “I can’t believe all the stuff that’s still in here.”
“Same.” I stepped closer to the white door.
“What are you doing?” Kaitlin froze.
“Exploring,” I said. “Come on.” I pulled the wooden door open wider, and it creaked on its rusted hinges. My shoulders lifted to my ears in an attempt to quiet its alarm.
I peered out into a long corridor with archways that spanned the width every few feet. Piping, wrapped with ripped cloth that hung like decaying bandages on a mummy, crossed overhead while large cardboard cans overflowing with trash lined the sides of the hall.
“Let’s see if there’s a way to get to the upper floors,” I whispered. “There must be a stairwell at the end.” I snuck out into the hallway, then tiptoed through the wide corridor. Doors leading to unknown areas, like boiler rooms or more storage, hid in every alcove begging to be opened, but my focus was on the upper floors and the stories they might hold for us.
Kaitlin followed close behind me, flinching at every ping or creak. “What’s that?” she hissed.
The Shuttered Ward Page 8
