Red July

         It was a hot, sticky day in Smithboro, Arkansas.  Cumulous thunderheads boiled up from more than one horizon.  St. Olephson’s Behavioral Health Unit was a large complex of buildings on the outskirts of the city.  Highway 49, or what turned into Johnson Avenue closer to the subdivisions and buildings of the city proper, ran within view of the mental hospital.  The grounds of St. Olephson’s were neatly tended and sprinkled with evergreen topiaries.  The back part of the grounds was fenced in with a tall chain link fence laced with razor wire.  Many of the windows were tinted dark.  The fairly-modern-architecture building was in good shape.  Toyotas, Nissans, Jeeps, and a showroom new Range Rover were arrayed in the parking lot. 
         Just inside the front door only admissible by key or electronic lock operated from behind the front desk was the waiting area.  It was cool here.  There were comfortable couches, mid-eastern looking rugs, and famous prints on the walls.  Several fake-looking trees with large waxy green leaves stood next to the heavy wooden doors leading off into the rest of the building. 
         

Marsh Banks, the caretaker past his youth, came through the east door on his way to the cafeteria and service entrance to the outside.  It was eleven at night.  He had just snuck a gulp of whiskey from the hidden flask in his back pocket.  His eyes were bloodshot and slightly jaundiced.  The cafeteria was dark and empty.  The aluminum tables gleamed in the low light.  He made the standard food tray and water and sat it down near the service entrance.  He unlocked the door leading outside. 
         “Damn,” he said.  He sat the ring of keys absent-mindedly on the food tray and raised one leg to remove the gum stuck to his shoe.  “These damn kids,” he said as he shut the door behind him, tray in hand.  It was his last duty before going home where he could drink away the memory of his late wife in private.  He took the concrete path around the building to the back, watching the fireworks display in the distance.  The soundless lights were brilliant colors in the night sky. 
         The metal dispenser in the wall looked hungry.  It resembled one of those at the post office where you might place a package to be dropped into a bin behind the wall.  He put the tray in the dispenser and closed it.  The promise of whiskey was sweet in his mouth.  He noticed the fireworks had ended.  He got in his old Buick and drove home.


Chapter 1           Mic Simmons

         Mic sat in his trailer in a daze.  His mother’s funeral had been held a week ago.  He was still reeling from the loss and to him, something didn’t seem right.  He had never been depressed or suicidal or had any mental health issues for that matter.  He picked up the phone book, found the number for a crisis hotline and dialed it on his cell phone.  After several intermediaries, he was directed to St. Olephson’s.  An evaluation would be performed if he would like to come in tonight.  He got in his truck and headed that way. 
         He pushed the buzzer on the front door.  A male voice from a speaker in the wall asked his business and said someone would be with him shortly.  A tall, overly muscular man opened the door with a key and let Mic into the waiting area. 
         “Tell them I don’t really have issues,” said Mic after the muscular man told him to have a seat if he liked.  The muscular man smiled and disappeared through a door.
         After several minutes, a casually dressed woman came through a different door. 
         “Would you like to come with me?” she said.
         “I told that guy I really don’t have any issues,” said Mic.
         “Would you like to cancel the evaluation then?”
         Mic paused, looking at a Van Gogh print on the wall.  Go figure.  A picture by a nut in a nuthouse.  “No, I suppose I need the help.  How long will I be in here?”
         “Let’s take care of the evaluation first,” said the woman, “then we can talk about those things later,”
         Mic followed her through the door, down a hallway, and into a small but nicely furnished office.  He noticed all the doors had massive metal locks on them.  She took a seat behind a polished oak desk and he sat in a plain chair in front of it. 
         “What brings you in for the evaluation?” said the woman after digging around in a drawer for some papers and a pen.
         “My mother died a week ago,” Mic looked down at the floor, “and I can’t shake the loss,”
         “Are you prescribed medication for a mental condition?”
         “No.  I’ve never had any problems like that,” Mic’s eyes were defiant.
         “Do you abuse any street drugs or alcohol?”
         “No,”
         A series of further probing questions were asked and answered and it was determined after a delay during which the woman left and consulted with the doctor that Mic should be admitted.  He was escorted back to the waiting area.  After another short delay, the muscular man came back through the same door he had disappeared into earlier. 
         “My name is John,” he said, “If you need anything during your stay, just ask.  I’m here to help,” he smiled again.  Mic thought he looked like a young Lew Ferrigno.
         John opened the door to the unit with a key and Mic followed him through an open area.
         “The cafeteria is over there,” John pointed, “and there’s the chapel.  They have services every Sunday.  You’re welcome to attend but it is not mandatory,”
         “How long will I be in here?” said Mic.
         “There is a seventy-two hour hold on all patients,”
         “You’re a good man, John,” 
         John smiled and looked back and down at Mic who was a head shorter.
         They went through a set of large double doors that of course locked which led them into the actual unit.  The smoke area was on the right as they passed.  It was a fenced in area outside.  Mic noticed the razor wire on the outside fence.  They stopped at the nurses’ station enclave, located in roughly the center of St. Olephson’s.  A blonde woman sat in a chair behind the counter, which wrapped around the enclave. 
         “This is Lucy,” said John, “our nurse.  She’s going to get your vital signs and some more information,”
         Lucy looked up from writing.  “Hi.  You must be Mic?”
         “Yep.  My dad name was Mike and he didn’t want me to be much like him,” said Mic.
         Lucy smiled, “Well, I’ll bet you turned out like him anyway,”
         John took Mic through a large, open space which John called the day area and into a bedroom.  The bedroom was starkly furnished with a bed, a stand-alone coat closet, and a bathroom with shower and toilet.  Mic was told to strip to his underwear.  John did a perfunctory search of his clothes and put them in a paper bag.  He handed Mic some blue scrubs to put on.  John took the shoelaces out of Mic’s shoes and told Mic he could keep the shoes. 
         “We’ll be by to wake you around six in the morning.  You better get some sleep now,” said John.
         “Thanks buddy,” Mic said as John left the room.  Mic noticed he had left the bag of clothes.  He didn’t want to bother John so he turned off the light in the room and fell asleep on the bed.





Lori Margoles

         Lori Margoles had spent the last two days in the funk of writer’s block.    She had had a dream about a scene but as of yet had not been able to find the right words.  The stress was getting overwhelming and that usually meant cutting and a trip back to St. Olephson’s.  It was ten in the morning and the sun sent shafts of light through the screen door.  She thought about her mom as she took the serrated knife from the drawer.  The sound of the neighbor’s lawnmower grew distant and there was a rushing sound in her ears.  She bore down hard with the knife on her arm.  The blood welled up around the knife’s edge.  She repeated this two more times before collapsing on the couch.  She was crying when the phone rang.  It was her mother who told her to stay put, that an ambulance was being called. 
         The ambulance took Lori to the hospital in Smithboro where she was evaluated and sent to St. Olephson’s in a different ambulance.  As per routine, she was placed on a gurney in the back of the ambulance.  The ambulance drivers opened the back doors and the sunlight flooded in.  This was nothing new for Lori.  She had been in St. Olephson’s several times for cutting issues.  The drivers brought her out of the ambulance on the gurney and rolled her to the front door.  One of them pressed the buzzer and John came to the doors and unlocked them.  Lori got up from the gurney and went inside.
         “How are you, Lori?” said John.
         “I’ve always known I was going to die,” Lori said.  Her eyes seemed fixed on some distant point.
         “We wouldn’t let that happen to you,” said John.
         “It will pay off in the end,”
         “What will pay off?” 
         Lori smiled weakly and went into the mandatory evaluation interview.


Jake Parsons

         The old BBQ stand had been closed for years.  Jake pulled out the joint from his backpack.  He was always smiling, but now his smile grew broader. 
         “You ever smoked from a bong?” said David, his friend from high school.
         “No,” Jake said quickly.  He always answered yes or no before he had even allowed his brain to determine an answer.
         “It’s cool man, there’s water in it.  This one guy told me that if you drink the water, you’ll get really fucked up,” said David.
         Jake lit the joint and inhaled the smoke.  He held the smoke in his lungs for several seconds then blew it out with relish.  They stayed behind the BBQ stand until the joint was finished.  He gave David their private handshake and walked home.  The neighborhood was fairly dilapidated.  The yards were overgrown with weeds.  His house was in the middle of the block.  He went inside and threw his backpack on the couch.          The phone rang.  It was Shawna, the girl he had been seeing for the past month.  She told him she had some meth and would he like to smoke it.  He said he’d be right over.  He’d wanted to try meth for a while now but had no way of getting it.  Shawna was already out of high school and had more connections.  He put on his backpack and walked to her house across town. 
         At first there didn’t seem to be anyone home when he knocked on her apartment door.  Shawna finally appeared looking like she had just woken up.  Jake slipped in.  They smoked the meth and had sex.  There was a loud knock on the front door.  “Police!” said a voice from the other side of the door.  “We have a warrant.  Open up or we’ll break the door down,”
         Jake looked over at the wall, too high to say or do anything.  Shawna jumped up and started mouthing silent words at Jake.  He had no idea what she was saying and continued to stare at the wall.  She disappeared into the bedroom.  The door crashed in with a loud crunching sound.  The police came in. 
         “Is anyone else here?” said one of the police.
         “Yes,” said Jake, not caring one way or the other.  They handcuffed him and led him to the police car.
         His mother had to pay the fines for Jake’s offenses which she couldn’t afford.  She berated him for an hour when he got home from the jail.  He had been ordered to perform community service.  The judge had suggested he see a drug counselor.  Jake’s mom called St. Olephson’s drug hotline and was told to bring him in for an evaluation.  His mom took Jake in to the evaluation room.  He was admitted and led into the unit.  A very sexy blonde sat talking with another man in a spacious room full of ceiling high windows.  The place was well lit and clean.  There was a very muscular man at the nurses’ station who greeted Jake with a smile.  Several women in pants suits came through the area.  Jake had brought his small hunting knife which was confiscated by the muscular man.  A janitor was buffing the floor with a large rotating machine.  Jake thought the guy looked half crocked.  His eyes were bloodshot.  He was taken to his room, stripped, searched, and given scrubs. 


Diego Gacha aka Panama


         Panama shifted the garbage truck into low gear.  He was going to have to get a new air freshener for the cab.  The whole truck reeked of garbage.  He pulled the truck into the wastewater plant and parked it alongside the others.  He was always the first to arrive and the last to leave.  He stepped into the office to pick up his paycheck. 
         “The matter of Mrs. Goslings’ garbage can was settled.  Be a little more careful next time,” said the boss.
         “Yes sir,” Panama smiled revealing a crooked front tooth.  His face was hard, lined, and weathered.  He was a short man but stocky.  He took the paycheck and made his way to his Toyota Camry.  He had put plastic on the seat to avoid getting the grime from his uniform all over it.  The cell phone in his pocket vibrated.
         “Yeah,” said Panama.
         “Diego, I must tell you some information,”
         “What is it Luis?”
         “The police, they are getting close,”
         “Did you take care of that matter we spoke of yesterday?”
         “Of course, Diego, the man will never see the light of day,” Luis laughed.
         “Keep me informed,” Panama disconnected.
         He pulled into the small apartment complex where he lived with his wife and daughter.  His wife was from a rich American family.  The daughter was hers from a previous marriage.
         “I have to disappear for a while,” Panama said.  His wife stood at the sink cutting up potatoes.  She went into the bedroom and returned with a bottle of hydrocodone’s.  Panama took the bottle looked at the pills.  He got a glass of water from the tap and swallowed ten of them.  His wife called the drug hotline.  After being checked out medically at the hospital, Panama was taken to St. Olephson’s where he was admitted for treatment of substance abuse and mental health issues.


Richard Woo


         “Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile,” Richard watched the girl for a response.
         She smiled and looked down into her drink. 
         “Do you want to go back to my apartment?” he said.
         “I have to go home now Richard,” she said and got up from the table.  The techno music was pumping loud in the club.
         Richard went to the bar to get another drink.  He sat down on a stool and looked around.  Two hot girls were sitting on stools down the bar.  He went over to introduce himself.  While he was talking with the girls, an Asian man put several drops of LSD in his drink. 
         He struck out with the girls and went back to his drink.  He took a big gulp and decided to leave.  By the time he reached his car, he was feeling strange.  The car melted from his vision and he was standing in the parking lot alone.  Everything seemed sticky and ephemeral, like reality itself was fleeting.  Richard sat down on the pavement and closed his eyes.  He could hear sirens in the distance.


Amber Rays


         Amber was pulling off her tight tank top.  Her boyfriend was on the couch watching ESPN. 
         “Not now,” he said.
         Amber pouted and threw the removed top towards her boyfriend.  It landed on his face, blocking his view of the TV. 
         “You bitch,” he said.  He jumped up and ran at Amber who screamed and tried to make it to the front door.  He caught her and struck her on the face with the back of his hand.  Amber fell to the floor.  She looked up at her boyfriend.  “You bastard,” she said.  He drew back his hand as if to strike her again.  She cowered away.  Later, she called the police.  He was arrested when they saw the hematoma on her cheek.  She was taken to St. Olephson’s and admitted for domestic violence issues.



Chapter 2  First Group

         Mic came into the room and noticed a tall kid sitting near the window.  Lori Margoles, whom Mic had befriended that morning, came into the room behind him.  The kid looked up at Lori and watched as she took a seat next to Mic in the circle of chairs which lined the room.  Mic stared at the kid until the kid looked at him.  They locked eyes for a moment.  Then the kid looked back down at his hands. 
         A short, stocky guy entered the room and sat down.  The skin on his almost bald head was peeling from sunburn.  An Asian guy came in next.  He sat down and started fidgeting with his pants.  A well-dressed therapist named Marcy came in carrying a briefcase.  She took a seat near the door and produced a legal pad and some papers from the briefcase.  She studied the papers for a few minutes and then began the meeting.
         “Hello, everyone, my name is Lucy and I’m a therapist,” she looked around at the patients.
         “This is the first group session of the morning.  If you’re new, as it seems you all are,” she made a note, “we’ll go over the rules of group.”  Sunlight streamed in through the windows and the air-conditioner made a low rumbling sound as it kicked on.  “There are certain rules to group which everyone is expected to follow.  Since you are all new, I’ll give them to you this time.  The first rule is that there is not to be any cross-talk.  In other words, no talking with your neighbor during group.  There will be plenty of time for talking between groups in the day room.  Rule two is what’s said in here, stays in here.  In other words, don’t talk about what’s said in this group when you leave this room,” 
         The door opened and a young woman with big breasts, wearing a tank-top and jeans came in making popping noises from chewing gum. 
         “Would you remove the gum, please?” said Marcy.
         The woman complied and threw the gum in a small wastebasket near the door.  She took a seat.
         “Okay, we’ll continue.  Can anyone tell,” Marcy checked her legal pad, “Amber what the first two rules of group are?”
         “The world may never know,” said Richard who stared at Amber.  He laughed some and then looked around.  He seemed embarrassed.
         “Mic, why don’t you tell Amber what the first two rules are?” said Marcy.
         Mic sat up.  “No cross talking and what’s said in here stays in here,” he said.
         “Good.  Now rule three.  Rule three says you cannot talk about anyone, a patient or a staff member if they are not present in group,” said Marcy.  She looked around at each patient individually.
         “Okay, if all the rules are understood, let’s begin.  First, we’ll do introductions.  Let’s go around the room.  Tell who you are and a little about yourself and why you’re here.  We’ll start here with
Amber,” Marcy motioned with her hand.
         “My name’s Amber Rays.  My boyfriend beat me up.  And I have a drug problem.  I live in Smithboro with my boyfriend.  He’s a real jerk.  He told me that he was going to kill me if,”
         “Okay, that’s enough for now,” Marcy interrupted, “your turn Richard,”
         “My name is Richard Woo and I like to quote clichés,” said Richard.
         “Okay, can you tell us why you’re here Richard?” said Marcy.
         “Someone drugged me,” he said.  “And now for the rest of the story,” he smiled and looked around at the others.  “I work on computers,”
         Marcy motioned to Jake.
         “My name is Jake Parsons.  I’m a senior.  I’ve got a drug problem,” Jake said, still looking down at his hands.
         “Okay, very good,” Marcy looked at Panama.
         “My name is Panama.  I live with my wife in Smithboro.  I drive a garbage truck.  I’m here to get better,” said Panama, keeping his eyes on Marcy.
         “What brings you in, Panama?” said Marcy.
         “I overdosed,” His eyes were inscrutable.
         “Very good, next” said Marcy.  Amber squirmed in her chair.
         “I’m Lori Margoles.  Maybe some of you have heard of me.  I’m a published writer.  I’ve been here before,” said Lori.  All eyes were on her.  She looked at Jake and held his gaze.
         “Very good, Lori, and finally,”
         Mic paused.  “I’m Mic Simmons.  I’m an ex-pilot.  My mother died two weeks ago,”
         “Okay, since everyone has introduced themselves, today we’re going to talk about anger,” said Marcy, “would anyone like to tell what they know about anger?”
         “I know a lot about that,” said Amber, “my boyfriend stays angry,”
         “Why do you think he is angry?” said Marcy.
         “I don’t really know.  He’s always blowing up about this or that.  I think he’s got some issues,” said Amber.
         Amber continued to talk about her boyfriend for the rest of the hour.  Jake went to sleep.  Richard looked bored and continued to fidget with his pants.  Panama sat stone-faced looking at Lori.  Lori and Mic responded to several question each and participated as well as they could. 
         “Okay, we’ll end group there.  Could someone wake Jake up?” said Marcy.
         Panama reached over and shook Jake’s leg.  Jake opened his eyes and looked around.
         “We like to end all our groups with the serenity prayer,” said Marcy, “Everyone hold hands,”
         They all stood in a circle holding hands.  Mic noticed the smoothness of Lori’s skin.  He looked at the bandages on her arms. 
         “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,” 
         They filed slowly out of the room. 




Chapter 3                    the Day Room

         “Maybe you should come live with me,” said Richard, “Live and let live, you know?” 
         Amber popped her gum and rolled her eyes.  “I’ve got enough problems as it is,”
         “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Richard said.  He took her hand in his.  He put his hand to his forehead.  “You’re thinking…about your boyfriend,” he said, pretending to read her mind. 
         Amber giggled, “How did you know that?” she said.
         “I’m psychic,” said Richard.
         “Yeah, and I’m the President,”
         Richard dropped her hand and looked towards the nurses’ station.  “You ever notice that guy looks like Lew Ferrigno,” said Richard, referring to John, the psychiatric nurse.
         Amber picked up a magazine from a nearby table and began to flip the pages.
         Richard got up and walked across the day room to where Mic and Lori were talking.
         “I think we should call that guy the hulk,” Richard interrupted.
         “What’s happening, big guy?” said Mic.
         “That guy looks like the hulk,” Richard motioned towards John.
         “I once killed a man bigger than him with a piece of pipe,” said Mic.
         “You wouldn’t like him when he was angry,” said Richard.
         Mic laughed.  He and Lori quit talking and waited for Richard to move on.  Richard left the day room.
         “So why do you do it?” said Mic, eyeing her bandages.
         “Stress relief,” said Lori.  Mic smiled.
         “Oh, you’re serious?”
         Lori seemed to be somewhere else.  “I hope the food is good here,” she said after a long pause.
         There was another group meeting that morning in which Marcy discussed hope.  Then smoke break was called.  Amber and Jake came from their bedrooms and went to the smoking area.  After that, they were all lined up for lunch in front of two massive, locked doors leading to the cafeteria.  Lunch wasn’t up to Lori’s standards, but everyone else seemed to have no complaints. 





Chapter 4                              Activities


         The patients were lined up in front of a different set of locked double doors for activity therapy that afternoon.  A tall therapist named Monica opened the doors with a key.
         “I’m Monica, the activity therapist,” she said.
         They were led down a long hall past many offices and closed doors.  The only lighting was from fluorescent lights on the ceiling.  They emerged into a large, sunny room full of windows.  Mic noticed a pool table near the far wall.  Monica turned on the radio to a local classic rock station.  Deep Purple was playing ‘Smoke on the Water’.  A tall chain-linked fence topped with razor wire surrounded the building.  Mic looked at the fence.
         “Are we really that dangerous?” he said to Lori, picking up a pool cue.
         Lori picked up a cue and chalked the end of it.  Mic racked the balls and Lori broke with confidence.
         Richard and Jake went to the ping pong table.  Amber and Panama sat with Monica who tried to convince them to play a game of Uno.  Mic noticed an empty swimming pool outside the windows.
         “Do we ever get to swim?” he called across the room to Monica.
         “The pool is closed until further notice,” she yelled back.
         Mic smashed the eight ball into the corner pocket.
         “You’re a good pool player,” he said.
         Lori put her cue into the holster on the wall.  “I wrote a story once about a pool player,”
         “How did that turn out?” Mic said.
         “Badly,”
         Activities lasted one hour.  The rest of the day was free time.  Supper was served at five.  Visitation was from six to nine, but no one showed for that.  Mic and Lori were the last to go to bed.  She went down the women’s hallway to her bedroom.  Mic stayed in the day room past dark, watching the fireworks display from the city through the day room windows.  The fireworks were far away and could not be heard. 
         “Goodnight, John,” he said as left the day room.
         “Sleep well,” John smiled and continued doing paperwork.



Chapter 5          The Key is used


         At midnight, a large man wearing clothes that were too small for him walked out of Mic’s room wearing a paper bag over his head.  Holes had been cut for the eyes and mouth.  He walked quietly along the wall to the nurses’ station where John was busy doing paperwork.  He entered the nurses’ station and broke John’s neck with a sickening snap.  John slumped to the floor.  The man took the keys and opened the safe in the floor.  He took out a small hunting knife and disappeared into the darkened hallway.


Mic’s Bedroom

         Mic awoke to someone shaking him. 
         “What the hell do you want?” Mic said after gaining consciousness.
         Richard had the wide eyes of fright.  “I think you better take a look at this,” he said.
         Mic rolled over towards the wall, “Go to sleep Richard,”
         “The hulk is dead,” Richard said.  He began to tremble.  His breathing was becoming labored and he sat down on the floor.
         “The hulk is dead?  Where?”  Mic could tell now that he was fully awake something was truly wrong.
         Richard pointed towards the nurses’ station.
         “Are you all right?” said Mic.
         Richard managed one word, “Hyperventilating,”
         Mic waited until the fit had passed and helped Richard to his feet.  “Let’s go have a look,”
         They walked into the darkened hallway.  A print of a painting of a cactus hung on the wall next to Mic’s room.  Mic noticed the reflected light on the glass from down the hall.  The picture frame was made of brass and looked expensive.    Snoring could faintly be heard from Panama’s room down the hall.  The hallway brightened as they approached the nurses’ station.  A rolling cart holding a computer and some medical equipment sat near the nurses’ station.  Mic was looking at its wheels when he saw a human eye on the ground.  It seemed larger than normal.  Mic had never seen one outside of the head.  Nerves and flesh trailed the eye on the tile floor.  Splotches of blood led up to John’s body which was inside the nurses’ station.  Mic looked inside.
         “Oh shit,” Mic said and put his hand to his mouth.  John’s eyes had been removed.  There was blood on his face and his neck was at an unnatural angle.  “What the fuck?” Mic looked around.  The place was quiet.  Mic noticed that the console labeled fire alarm had been ripped apart, revealing many colored wires.  He also saw a canister on the floor which he knew from his military career to be tear gas.  “What in the name of God?”  Mic realized Richard was puking.



Chapter 6                    Amber and Jake Have A Little Fun


         Mic and Richard were stunned.  Mic decided to wake Lori up and get the hell out of this place.  Richard followed him into the women’s hallway.  When they got to Amber’s door, they could hear a thumping noise. 
         “You wake her up, I’m going to get Lori,” Mic said.
         Richard watched as Mic disappeared down the dark hallway.  He turned to Amber’s door.  He could still hear the thumping sound coming from the room.  He thought about knocking, but that didn’t seem to be a good idea given the circumstances.  He grabbed the door knob and turned it slowly.  As the door slid open, the thumping grew louder.  Richard was about to close the door when he started to wretch again involuntarily.  The thumping stopped.  Richard stood as still as he possibly could.  He could hear someone get off the bed and walk towards him.  Richard backed up into the darkness.  The room light came on just as Jake said, “What the hell?”
         Jake was holding a piece of paper over his privates.  His hair was mussed up.  Amber appeared behind him wearing a blanket.
         “Get dressed,” Richard said.  “We’ve got problems,”





Mic Wakes Lori


         “Wake up,” Mic whispered.  He gently shook Lori.  He could see her only by the moonlight through the window. 
         Lori sighed gently and opened her eyes.  “What’s going on?” she said, surprised.
         “John is dead,” Mic didn’t know how else to begin.
         Lori sat up quickly.  “What?  Is this a joke?”
         “No joke,” Mic whispered, “Come on, get dressed,”
         Lori dressed quickly while Mic watched the door.  They entered the hallway together.  Richard, Amber, and Jake were standing in the light from her room. 
         “Richard,” Mic whispered as they approached.
         “Mic, is that you?” Richard stared into the darkness.
         “Yeah,” Mic said as he appeared with Lori.
         “Turn that damn light off,” Mic said.
         Richard reached into the room and turned off the light.  For a second, they were in complete darkness as their eyes adjusted.  Then the ambient glow from the nurses’ station returned.  They could barely make out each other’s forms. 
         “What’s going on?” Amber said loudly, “and why is everyone whispering?”
         “Shut up, you stupid bitch,” said Mic.
         She was about to say something else when Mic put his hand over her mouth.
         “There’s a psycho killer on the loose,” he whispered.  He took his hand away slowly watching her reaction.
         “You’re full of shit,” she whispered, “I’m going to tell the nurse,”
         Before anyone could stop her, she walked quickly towards the nurses’ station.  Jake followed her.
         “How the hell did they know?” said Mic.
         “They didn’t,” said Richard.
         “Then how…”
         Richard made a circle with his thumb and index finger and poked the index finger of his other hand through it several times.
Mic finally got what he was doing.  “Oh, shit.  Should’ve known.  Let’s get the hell out of here,”



Chapter 7                    Double Doors


         Amber grabbed the door handle and rattled it, trying to force it open.  It was securely locked and wouldn’t budge.  The only light was coming from a red exit sign above the door.
         “Let’s go find the others,” Jake said.
         “Fuck them.  I don’t even believe this is happening.  It’s probably some kind of joke,” said Amber.
         Jake leaned against the wall.  “I want a cigarette,”
         The man wearing the paper bag appeared out of the darkness.  The knife in his hand glinted red.  Amber screamed.  They were trapped in a corner.  The man smelled like bologna.  He grabbed Jake by the arm and stabbed him in the gut.  Amber screamed again and ran into the darkness.  The man turned to watch her go.  Jake moaned as the man slit his throat.  Blood began to spurt onto the wall.
Locked In

         Mic led Lori and Richard past the smoking area to the double door leading to the cafeteria and hopefully outside.  He rattled the doors but they were locked tight.
         “Any other way out of this place?” Mic whispered.
         “I don’t think so,” Richard said.
         “It’s all fenced with that razor wire anyway,” said Lori.
         “Maybe we can trip an alarm,” said Mic, “let’s go,”
         When they got to the nurses’ station, Mic and Lori began to look around.  Richard stood watch.  A scuffling noise could be heard from the darkness down the men’s hallway.  There were several crashes.  Panama and the killer were in hand to hand combat as they emerged into the light.  Panama tripped the killer who went sprawling into the wall, shattering a glass picture frame. 
         “C’mon,” said Mic, “let’s go to the smoking area.  We can’t help him,” They all ran towards the smoking area. 
         “Thank God, it’s open,” said Lori.  They emerged into the warm night air.
         “Give me a hand with this,” said Mic as he took a chair and wedged it into the door.  Richard got a few more chairs and piled them on. 
         “You think that will hold that guy?” said Richard.
         “Let’s hope so,” said Mic.  “We’ll all barricade the door with these chairs.  Surely he can’t push back all three of us.”
         They waited, listening intently.
         No sound came from the hallway.  Mic looked out into the night, past the fence.  He could see traffic moving on the highway that ran in front of St. Olephson’s.  There was a banging on the door.
         “Let me in,” Amber said from the other side.  Her voice was muffled yet distinguishable.
         They pulled the chairs away and let her in.  She had been crying and the make-up on her face was smudged.  They replaced the barricade. 
         “Where’s Jake?” said Mic.
         “Where do you think?  He’s dead,” said Amber.
         Lori gasped.  “This guy’s going to kill us all,”
         This seemed to sink in for everyone.  They all sat silently for a while.
         “If we can hold out here until the workers get here in the morning, we’ll make it,” said Mic.
         Richard began to breathe rapidly.
         “He’s hyperventilating,” said Mic. 
         Mic took off his shirt and put in over Richard’s head.  “It’s not a paper bag, but it might work,” he said.
         Lori cringed.  She put her ear to the door and listened.
         “Hear anything?” Amber said.
         Lori shook her head.  “It’s no use.  I thought I wanted to die, but not this way,”
         Richard settled down and Mic put his shirt back on.
         Amber lit a cigarette.  The smoke drifted away on the breeze.  The crickets and cicadas continued their high-pitched drone.  A stray cat moved out of the shadows and ran across the grounds.
         “How the fuck are we going to get out of here?” Amber said.
         “How the fuck do we know?” said Mic.
         “You mentioned something about setting off the alarm,” said Richard.
         “He tore the control box up at the nurses’ station,” said Mic.
         “I can fix it if we can get back there.  You think that would work?”
         “Who knows?  It might throw open the doors or even get the fire department here.  The best thing to do is to stay right here until morning,”
         “You smell smoke?” said Lori.
         They all sniffed the air.  Sure enough, something was on fire.  Mic put his hand on the wall.
         “It’s hot,” he said, “There’s a fire in the next room.  It’ll be on us in a second,”
         There were several loud cracks and a window exploded into the smoking area.  Smoke and heat belched through the broken window. 
         “We’ve got to get out of here,” said Mic.
         They pulled down the barricade of chairs and rushed out into the hallway.  A large beam crashed down onto the smoking area which was soon engulfed in flames.  They moved quickly thought the dark back to the nurses’ station. 
         

Nurses’ Station

         Amber was shivering, looking into the dark hallway as Richard examined the control board. 
         Richard tried touching several of the wires together but nothing happened.  “He’s cut the power somehow,”
         “Great,” said Amber, “Just fucking great,”
         Mic turned as Lori touched his arm.  Panama emerged from the shadows of the men’s hallway.  He was holding his arm which was dripping blood.
         “Let me see that,” said Lori.
         Panama took away his hand, revealing a large gash.
         “That’ll need stitches, but for now you’ll live,” said Lori.
         “We can’t do anything here,” said Mic, “let’s find another room,”
         They went as a group down the women’s hallway and filed into Amber’s room.  Mic and Panama turned over the coat closet and put it in front of the door.  Lori and Amber sat down on the bed.  Richard was wheezing. 
         “We can take that guy,” said Panama, “we should attack, kill the gringo,”
         Mic looked at Panama who was still bleeding profusely.  “Put some pressure on that wound,”
         Lori found a small towel in the bathroom and tied it around Panama’s arm to stop the bleeding.
         “No, we’re staying right here until morning,” said Mic.
         “That worked well last time,” said Amber.
         “Fuck off.  You got a better idea?”
         Amber looked down at the floor. They were sitting in silence when the room door started to rattle violently. 
         “He’s trying to get in,” said Amber.
         Mic and Panama went to the door and held the coat closet in place.  After several seconds the rattling ceased.  They all focused their listening towards the door but no further sounds came.
         “He’s gone,” said Amber.
         “For now,” said Mic, “we’ll hole up here until daylight,”
         Amber fell over onto the bed and started crying silently.  Mic got up and went to the window.  He could see a brick wall and a patch of grass.  It was monochromatic in the moonlight. 
         “I still say we should whack this guy, come out fighting,” he looked at Mic, “You and I, we could bring him down,”
         Mic continued to stare out the window.  “We’re waiting here until morning.  He checked his watch.  It’s three o’clock already.  The workers probably get here at five or five thirty,”
         “We’ll see,” said Panama.
         After fifteen minutes there was a hissing sound near the door and the room began to fill with a cloud of vapor.  Mic knew immediately what it was from the smell.
         “Tear gas,” he said.  He held his breath and ran to pick up the coat rack barricading the door.  Panama did the same and helped him lift the rack up.  The others were coughing and spitting.  “Let’s go,” said Mic.  Mic threw open the door and they scattered into the dark hallway.


Nurses’ Station

         Amber ran toward the light of the nurses’ station.  Her nose and eyes were burning from the gas.  She stumbled to the desk and coughed.  She turned to find she was alone.  The nurses’ station was in disarray.  The control box for the alarms was ripped open, exposing wires and metal.  John was still lying on the floor dead.  Amber saw the phone on the desk and picked it up.  There was no dial tone.  She slammed the receiver down and screamed, “Damn it,” The killer moved in quietly and slit her throat from behind.  She never had a chance.  She turned to see his skinless face.  Her last memory was of his exposed teeth.  He looked like a meaty skeleton.


The Door to the Activity Room

         Mic and Lori ran down the hallway to the door to the activity room.  A red exit sign cast a crimson glow onto the door and walls.  Mic tried the door again.  It was still locked.  “Let’s wait here,” he said, “we can listen for the others,” He knew this wasn’t much of a plan but he wanted to comfort Lori. 
         “How did that guy get in here?” Lori said.
         “Don’t know.  He must’ve been in here before they went home for the night,”
         Lori took one of the bandages off her arm.  The cut was deep and nasty.
         “Jesus, Lori, why do you do that?”
         Lori shrugged.  “I wish we had a weapon of some kind,”
         “Yeah, unfortunately, everything around here is bolted down.  That’s pretty ironic.  They killed us by preventing us from suicide,”
         “What are you going to do if we get out of here?” Lori said.
         “I’ll probably kiss the first woman I see,” he looked at her.  She was looking at him.
         “C’mon, let’s try to find the others,” he said and helped her up.
         

The Men’s Hallway

         Richard looked back as he ran down the men’s hallway.  The killer was striding purposefully after him in the shadows.  Richard could barely see that he wasn’t wearing the paper bag on his head anymore.  He sped up into the darkness and went into his room.  He thought a moment then got inside the coat closet.  He began to rock, swaying the closet until it had enough momentum to crash to the ground.  He began to breathe in quick gasps.


Door to Front Entrance

         Panama ran into the doors, hoping they would fly open.  He bounced off the doors and fell backwards, onto the ground.  He was getting mad at this whole bunch of bullshit.  He sat there on the floor thinking then got up and walked towards the nurses’ station.  When he got there, he heard a crash from down the men’s hallway.  He looked around for a weapon.  He picked up a can of tear gas.  Lori and Mic appeared from the darkness.
         “What are you looking for?” said Mic.
         Panama got on his knees and reached into the floor safe.  His eyes brightened as he pulled out a large pocket knife.  “This,” he said.  He started in the direction of the men’s hallway. 
         “Wait,” said Mic.  He looked around on the floor and saw a piece of brass picture frame.  He picked it up.  “Let’s go,” he said.  Lori followed close behind into the darkness. 
         Muffled cries came from Richard’s room.  Panama wielded the knife as he moved confidently into the room.  The sound was coming from inside the coat closet.
         “It’s Richard,” Panama said, as Mic and Lori came into the room.
         They tilted the heavy closet upright. 
         “It’s me,” said Panama as he opened the door.
         “I’m glad to see you,” said Richard, brushing off his clothes.  “I thought I was toast,”
         “Let’s go back to the nurses’ station,” said Mic, “at least there’s light there,”
         They ran.

Nurses’ Station

         The killer came out of the shadows right behind them.  Panama handed Mic the tear gas canister and stepped out, brandishing the knife.  Mic saw Panama slice at the killer with the knife.  He looked at Lori, grabbed her by the arm and ran towards the doors to the activity room.  Richard followed.  On the way, Mic stopped and pulled the pin on the gas can.  He dropped it in the hallway.


Doors to Activity Room

         They stood at the red sign.  It flickered a few times then went out.  They were in complete darkness now.  They began to whisper.
         “Maybe the hulk has a key to this door,” said Richard.
         “Good idea,” said MIc.  “I’ll sneak back and try to find it.  You stay here with Lori,”
         Mic groped in the dark until he touched Lori’s sweater.  “You okay?” he said.
         “Yeah, be careful,” she said.
         Lori and Richard held hands quietly in the darkness.

         Mic returned much later with the key. 
         “Mic?” Lori said as he tried to open the door with the key.
         “It’s me,”
         There were about twenty keys on the key ring.  Mic tried five before he found the right one.
         “Got it, let’s go,” he said. 
         They moved into the hallway leading to the activity room.  It was cooler here.  They were still in complete darkness.  Mic felt the wall with his hand as they made their way down the hallway. 
         They could see the silhouettes of several things in the activity room by the moonlight coming through the windows.  They went to the pool table.  Mic grabbed a cue stick off the wall. 
         The killer appeared quickly into the dim light.  Lori and Richard fell back into the shadows.
         Mic wielded the cue stick.  He swung at the killer who had raised the knife over his head.  Mic connected to the killer’s head but it didn’t seem to faze him.  The killer continued forward and Mic jabbed him in the gut with the stick.  The killer lunged at Mic with the knife.  Mic dodged just in time.  The knife ripped through his shirt.  Mic ran into the darkness. 
         “Hey,” Lori said as Mic ran by.  She couldn’t see him but was hoping it wasn’t the killer. 
         Mic stopped and wheeled around.  “Where are you?”
         “Here, here,” they located each other by touch and held hands.  They ran back towards the nurses’ station.


Richard

         Richard crept slowly along the wall of the hallway, back towards the nurses’ station.  He had hid under the ping pong table for what seemed an eternity.  He tried not to make a sound.  He even tried to stifle his breathing.  He felt he could hyperventilate at any moment.  He went through the open double doors and into the women’s hallway.


Mic and Lori

         Mic left the door open to Lori’s room.  He hoped this would fool the killer.  They sat alone on the floor at the end of the bed holding hands. 
         “Should I go find Richard?” he whispered into Lori’s ear.
         Lori didn’t respond.
         The room brightened ever so slowly.  It was morning.  Before long, they could see each other clearly. 


Norma Blake

         Norma Blake, the cafeteria worker opened the service room door at five forty-five.  Dawn was just breaking.  She took a deep sniff.  Something is on fire.  She thought for a moment.  She knew how quickly fires spread.  She picked up the cafeteria phone receiver and dialed 911. 


Mic and Lori

         They could hear voices coming from the hallway.
         “It’s them, let’s go,” said Mic.
         Mic released her hand.  They embraced until a fireman walked past the doorway.
         “We’ve got a couple of people down here,” the fireman said in a loud voice.
 
         Mic and Lori were standing outside St. Olephson’s in the parking lot.  Blue lights from police cruisers flashed in the early morning.  Police and firemen were milling around.  Several therapists were standing by, talking with the police.
         “Hey,” Mic said to one of the police, “there was another guy alive in there.  His name was Richard.  Did you find him?”
         “We haven’t found anyone yet,” the policeman said and walked away.
         Richard appeared smiling with a fireman at the front door.  He waved at Mic and Lori.
         Mic gave him a hug.  “What’s up, big guy?” he said.
         “The grass is definitely greener out here,” Richard said and laughed.