Whispers of Bedlam Asylum (Sigmund Shaw Book 2) (24 page)

36.

Laying in his bed in the pitch blackness, Sigmund thought of all the things that could go wrong.
The mind is devious in darkness
, he scolded himself. It was not the time for naysaying or letting fears run free.

He jumped as a sharp crack of thunder shattered the silence. The rumbling faded, but Sigmund’s heart rate did not. The storm outside raged with renewed passion. The calmer weather over the past few days was nothing more than a tease for that night’s maelstrom. The rain was thick as sheets, while the wind ravaged anything that stood in its way.

When Sigmund could take the waiting no more, he went to the door of his little room and unlocked it. The corridor beyond was very dark and he could see no more than a few feet. In the brief flash of a lightning bolt, Sigmund confirmed that the hallway was empty. With the snapshot of the layout freshly burned in his mind, he made his way quickly to the double doors.

The sounds of crying and laughter were hard to make out over the beating of rain on the windows, but the lamentable sounds were not completely suppressed. Sigmund took some solace in the thought that things could change here – with Charlotte’s article.

At the double doors, Sigmund put his ear against one and strained to hear anything on the other side. As far as he could tell over the storm, all was quiet. Taking out his lock picks, he went to work on the handle and had it opened in under a minute. Once on the other side of the doors, Sigmund paused again to try and sense if anyone was about. Nothing could be seen or heard.

Quietly making his way across the second floor landing, he passed by the dining room and community room and approached the women’s second floor wing. The lock mechanism was similar to the one he had just defeated and he had it unlocked shortly. A bit of creaking could be heard as Sigmund opened the door very slowly. He cringed at the sound, although, in reality, it was not loud enough to disturb anyone. With the door opened, he looked for signs of Charlotte. At first, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. His mind jumped to whether or not he should wait or perhaps even try to find her. Neither option was appealing.

“Sigmund, is that you?” a whisper came from the darkness.

“Charlotte?”

He sensed movement and another lighting flash lit up the corridor and showed clearly that a person, Charlotte, was there. He instinctively moved backwards as he did not realize someone was so close to him. Letting out a pent-up breath, he said quietly, “Let’s go.”

After Charlotte passed out of the doorway, a voice from the dark hallway behind her asked, “What are you doing?”

It was a whispered voice, but it sounded young. Charlotte responded, “Pocket, is that you?”

“Yes, Miss Charlotte.”

She let out a sigh and said, “You should be asleep. Now go back to bed.”

“But what are you doing? I want to come.”

This was getting ridiculous
, thought Sigmund. With as an authoritative whispered voice as he could muster, Sigmund said, “Look, umm, Pocket, was it? There is something that Miss Charlotte and I need to do. We cannot have you come along this time. Understand?”

“You sound like Mr. Baker,” Pocket said defeated.

Sigmund closed the door and shook his head. The two of them made their way carefully down the stairs, the sound of the rain hiding most of the noises they made. At each lightning flash, however, Sigmund felt uncomfortably exposed, but no one seemed to be about to see them. At the bottom of the steps they needed to find a spot that they could hide and wait. On the ground floor, there was a small alcove on the side of each stairway where it curved. It was the obvious spot and the best choice for the two of them.

At first, they stood in silence, trying to hear anything that would give away activity that didn’t belong. The storm caused a persistent thrumming sound throughout the asylum lobby making it difficult to hear anything that was not very loud or too close. Occasionally, one of them would step out from the alcove to see if they could spot any activity in the darkness. Each time they returned with nothing to report

After about twenty minutes, they switched from standing in the alcove to sitting. There was no telling how long, if at all, until someone might come along.

They didn’t talk much as they wanted to keep focused, but Charlotte couldn’t help but tell Sigmund, “Thank you for allowing me to help.”

They gave extra attention for a few moments, in case her words distorted something, and when it was clear that they hadn’t, Sigmund said, “I think it is the least I could do. Given what you have gone through to be here, and given our, somewhat, entwined past.”

Again, they were silent to make sure they weren’t missing something. Charlotte responded, “Sigmund, I am sorry for my…my blaming you. It has been a difficult several days.”

Sigmund nodded in the darkness and moved a little closer to Charlotte, partially to show that he had no hurt feelings and partially because it was cold. She didn’t move away as she probably appreciated the warmth too.

It was well over another hour until something caught their attention. They listened as they heard a metallic
clack
. After a second, there was another. Then another. It continued until it was clear that the noise was descending the very stairs that they were hiding next to. Sigmund would have liked to have stepped away from the alcove to get a glimpse, but it was too dangerous. He couldn’t risk being spotted – for he had to worry about himself
and
Charlotte.

The clacking sound stopped and they could hear a large breath being let out. Then, barely audible over the storm, a small
squeak
could be heard. Sigmund grabbed Charlotte’s wrist, both to let her know that this was probably what they were looking for, and to keep her from moving too soon.

He was surprised by her giving a muted ‘Ahhhh’ and by withdrawing her arm quickly from him. Sigmund looked at her to try and determine what was wrong and in the darkness he could see pain on her face and her putting her hand up to indicate that she was okay. Something was not right as she was taking steady heavy breaths to apparently calm herself.

Pushing this confusion to the side, Sigmund listened for the squeak. He thought he heard it again, but it was faint. He stood up and edged out of the alcove to see where the person, or persons, had gone. He was just in time to see the far left door, opposite the asylum entrance, close and a bit of a light getting fainter under it.

Signaling that it was safe to move, Charlotte joined him as he hurried towards where their target had went. He had never been through that door and didn’t know what to expect. Using hand signs and facial looks, he pointed at it and gave a questioning expression. Charlotte shook her head. Either she didn’t understand or she didn’t know what was on the other side.

Putting his ear up against the door, Sigmund listened for activity and was rewarded by hearing another door close, a muted
thunk
, and then silence. He carefully tested the handle and found it to be unlocked. Quietly opening the door they were greeted by a hallway of darkness on the other side. There was no illumination other than what could make its way in through the doorway past them. A flash of lightning gave a snapshot view of the space, a small hallway with only two doors along its left wall.

Sigmund’s heart was pumping hard as the adrenaline was kicking in. He turned to Charlotte and asked, “Are you alright?” He had been in situations like this before, but she probably had not. He would not blame her if she wanted to stay behind.

He could see a slight nod of her head followed by the words, “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

She is a brave woman
, thought Sigmund. Regardless of what she felt about him, he had a lot of respect for her, and it was only increasing.

They felt, more than saw, their way to the first door on the left. There was no noise behind it that they could make out, so Sigmund tried the handle and found it unlocked. Carefully opening it, not making any noise, what they found behind it was not what they were after. With a little groping, it was clear that this was a supply room of some sort. Whoever they were following did not go in there.

Closing the supply closet, they moved along the wall to the other door. Charlotte had a grip on Sigmund’s arm as the darkness was thick and separating could be problematic. At the second door, they listened, but could not make out anything. Unlike the previous door, Sigmund found this handle to be locked. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lock picks and went to work. It was difficult in the absence of light, but although it was slow going, he was able to eventually unlock it. With a gentle turn of the handle, Sigmund pushed against the door but, to his surprise, it did not move. Keeping the handle in the open position, he pushed a little harder, and then with his shoulder. The door did not budge. It was somehow locked or barricaded on the other side.

Sigmund looked at Charlotte, or at least in the direction that he thought Charlotte was, and asked, “Any idea what is behind that door?”

“No,” came the quiet answer.

“I know!” said an excited whisper from the door to the lobby.

They were both startled, but knew immediately who it was. “Pocket!” Charlotte whispered as she walked towards his voice. “I thought we told you to go to bed?”

“Yeah, you did. But I was too excited and you left the door unlocked.”

Sigmund, not wanting to have a long conversation, asked, “Did you say you knew what was behind that door?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, what is it?”

“That is the basement stairway.”

Sigmund was not aware that Bedlam had a basement. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve been down there once, but my mum says that it is too dangerous. But I’m not afraid.”

“Pocket,” Charlotte said, “is there another stairway to the basement somewhere?”

“Not that I know of.”

“This night is going to end quickly,” commented Sigmund, “if we can’t get down there.”

“I know a way down,” Pocket said cheerily.

“I thought you said that there wasn’t another stairway?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s not a stairway. Come on, I’ll show you.” They could just make out his little silhouette head into the lobby.

“You think we should follow him?” Sigmund asked Charlotte.

“Yes, I do. That kid is special. Besides, what choice do we have?”

“Good point.”

When they caught up to Pocket, they found him outside of the doors to the ground floor women’s wing. They heard his small voice say, “I’m sorry, Miss Charlotte. I forgot that the doors are locked at night.”

“Are you saying,” asked Sigmund, “that we need to get through those doors?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well then, I think I can help.” Sigmund knelt down and went to work with his lock picks.

When the door opened, Pocket asked, “Are you a magician?”

Charlotte stifled a laugh while Sigmund answered, “Not exactly. Now, lead the way, our young guide, and show us how to get to the basement.”

The little boy headed down the dark corridor with the two grownups in tow. About two-thirds down the hallway, Pocket stopped at a door and whispered, “In here.”

Inside was very dark and Sigmund wished he had a light of some sort. It was a foolish mistake on his part to be so unprepared. When he heard a match strike he looked towards the sound right as a light flashed. Pocket held the burning match in his hand and produced a candle in his other hand which he proceeded to light.

“Well done, Pocket!” Charlotte whispered.

Sigmund looked around the now illuminated room and saw that it was a small one, like his own.