BISENTIENT, page 10
“What?”
“Do you think Gail Hartston affects other people, even people that aren’t like you?”
“God knows.” said Plater. “But we need to get her out of there before some government white coat starts dosing her with drugs or giving her electric shocks or whatever they have in mind.”
“So, what do we do?”
“When are they coming for her?”
“Sometime tomorrow she said, that Granger guy was saying after 10:00am and they would get the man too.”
“Okay, call your nurse back and see if she’s on shift tonight.” said Plater sitting down in front of his laptop in the corner of the room and calling up Google.
“What are you doing?” asked Molly.
“I think it’s time Gail Hartston had a change of scenery.” said Plater, typing furiously.
As it began to get dark several hours later Molly and Plater got into his car and set off towards Lievesham Hall.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” asked Molly.
“No, but this woman has no life in our world but is so alive in the other. These government types have no idea, she’ll be just another test subject to them, a number in a spreadsheet.”
Plater had to try very hard to obey traffic laws on the way to Lievesham Hall. Even though he hardly knew Gail Hartston, he felt as if he needed to be her guardian in the physical world. With no living family there was nobody else to care what happened to her. Nobody to ensure that she didn’t become the equivalent of a lab rat.
As he pulled into the car park at the hospital he paused and scanned the building. He’d remembered from the filming that there was a door close to the Dead Zone ward, as he’d wheeled his camera equipment out that way. Eventually, he spotted it and slowly edged his car as close to the door as he dared.
Molly and Plater walked into the entrance and straight past the single nurse stationed at what was the reception by day.
“Excuse me.” said the nurse as they almost disappeared round a corner into a long corridor. “Can I help you?”
“Hi.” said Molly. “We’re here to see Nurse Hawkins, I’m a friend of hers, we were passing and she said it would be alright just to pop in to say hi.”
“It’s not really allowed.” said the nurse. “This is a secure facility.”
“Can’t we just stay for a few minutes? We live miles away and I hardly get to see Laura. We won’t disturb her or anything.”
“Well okay.” said the nurse. “But just a few minutes now.”
Molly smiled.
“Thank you.” she winked and guided Plater towards the Dead Zone.
As they hurried down the long corridor Plater was studying the walls and ceiling trying to locate the security cameras so they could try to offer the least identifiable angle as they passed. Molly had long hair so was at an advantage. Plater even resorted to turning and walking backwards past one of the cameras, pretending to be talking to Molly.
They needn’t have worried about being seen, not in real time anyway, the guard on shift to monitor the cameras was on his hourly rounds manually checking fire doors and emergency exits.
As they rounded the last corner before the Dead Zone, they almost bumped into the security guard. Plater saw him, shaking the catch on an emergency exit about twenty yards away. He pulled Molly back round the corner and put a finger to his lips. He mouthed the word ‘guard’ and Molly looked nervously back the way they had come. If she was having second thoughts, she managed to hide it. Plater peered carefully around the corner again and then jerked back pushing Molly back along the corridor until they came level with a door marked Linen. It wasn’t locked and once inside Plater pulled the door closed. In the darkness they stood close; the linen store was barely able to fit two people between the shelves of sheets and blankets. As he strained to hear the guard approaching Plater realized he liked being this close to Molly. He felt embarrassed and cross with himself, entertaining such thoughts at a time like this. Molly’s hands clasped his arms and her head nestled against his chest. As they both breathed carefully, they could hear the guard move past the door, on his way towards the Reception area. Plater tried to see though the crack of the door and watched the guard turn out of sight.
“That was close.” he said as they stepped back into the light.
The last fifty yards of the twisting corridor to the Dead Zone made them feel they were leaving one world and entering another. There were fewer lights on and they both felt a drop in temperature. As they rounded the final turn, they could see Nurse Laura Hawkins sat at a small table with a single lamp. The rest of the ward was in darkness. As they entered, she stood.
“You must be quick.” said Nurse Hawkins in a low whisper. “Michael, the guard, he watches the cameras but he’ll be a few minutes yet.”
The nurse set off into the gloom of the ward and stopped next to bed number four.
“Where will you take her?” she asked.
“Best you don’t know, eh?” said Plater. “But somewhere she’ll be cared for, don’t worry.”
The nurse walked further into the shadows but quickly returned with a wheelchair, which she drew alongside the bed. Plater and Nurse Hawkins carefully slid Gail Hartston’s warm and pliant body into the chair. Gail’s head sank to her chest and her hands lay where they were placed in her lap. Just as Plater began to push the wheel chair forwards, Gail's body began to pitch forwards. Plater caught her and slipping off his belt he looped it under her arms, across her chest and round the handles of the wheelchair.
Molly was near the doorway glancing nervously up the corridor and straining to catch any approaching sound. She gestured with a thumbs up and a beckoning wave. Plater wheeled the chair quickly out into the corridor and turned towards the emergency exit door that had been open on the day he’d filmed there. He hoped there was no alarm on it. Suddenly, he realized, stopped and went back to the Nurse who was standing at the entrance to the ward.
“What will you say?” said Plater.
“Don’t worry.” said Nurse Hawkins. “It’ll be at least another six hours before shift change and the nurse coming on is a lazy cow. She won’t do a bed check right away, it’ll be ages.”
“But when they do find out she’s gone?”
“I’ll swear blind she was there when I started and plead ignorance. They don’t have cameras in this section so they won’t see you leave. Go on, you don’t want to risk Michael getting curious and seeing you drive off.”
Plater smiled briefly and rejoined Molly, maneuvering the wheelchair up to the exit. No alarm. He nodded at Molly and she pushed the door open being careful not to let the pushbar make too much noise.
Cool air rushed in and Plater could see his car about twenty yards away across the grass. Molly tried to get the door shut again as best she could, but it hung slightly ajar. It was much harder work pushing the chair across the grass and a couple of times the smaller wheels caught, nearly pitching Gail Hartston clean out of it. By the time they’d reached the car, Plater was breathing heavily, partly from his exertions and partly from the tension. Molly opened the rear door and they struggled to feed Gail’s dead weight onto the back seat. Just as they stood up having tucked her feet inside floodlights suddenly illuminated the grounds. In that instant they both felt a shiver of fear.
“Get in!” said Plater.
They both scrabbled for the door handles and fell into the car. They could see the main entrance and could make out a running figure. It had to be the security guard and he was heading their way. Plater fumbled for the key and the car started first try. Over-revving in panic he went for reverse and the car shot backwards. It mounted a grassy bank and jolted to a stop. Plater flung it into first and lumps of torn turf and mud sprayed from the back wheels as they struggled for grip on the damp grass. Once the tyres held, the car lurched to the right and away from the main building. Plater checked the mirror and could see the guard slowing down as he realized he wouldn’t catch them. He saw him stop and bend forwards, his hands at his waist catching his breath. The next thing he noticed was that Molly had a vice-like grip on his arm. She was twisted around in her seat looking backwards too. Relieved to see their pursuer give up the chase. Plater steered the car in crazy arcs across the sloping lawns of Lievesham Hall as he circled towards the exit. As the car bumped and lurched, Gail Hartston rocked and slid around the back seat, her body assuming unnatural shapes. Once the car settled back onto the road Plater glanced across at Molly.
“You okay?” he asked, adrenalin still pumping madly.
“Yeah.” said Molly. “We just kidnapped someone.”
Plater glanced across again, holding Molly’s gaze for an instant before remembering to drive.
“Yes, yes we did, didn’t we?” he said and then started to laugh.
“Do you think they really believed that story about the foreclosure notice?” said Molly as she busied herself making coffee in Plater’s kitchen.
“I think so, but they’re in business don’t forget, they almost bit my hand off.” said Plater.
Gail Hartston was now a resident of Holworth Hospital, a small country house clinic that specialized in long term care. They had seemed perfectly happy about the emergency relocation, due to the imminent closure of this other institution. Plater had been deliberately vague on details.
“What if they hear about what we did on the news?”
“I’m not sure too much fuss will be made on the news.” said Plater. “I don’t think either Dr Granger or the Government will want too much attention drawn to them over something like this.”
Molly wanted reassurance she wouldn’t be woken at 5 a.m. by police with a warrant for kidnapping but it wasn’t happening.
“But kidnapping is a serious crime Mason.” she said passing him coffee and joined him on the sofa. “They can’t just let it go.”
“I can’t think that way.” said Plater. “Not now, I need Gail to help me to understand what’s going on with me. She’s proof that I’m not going mad.”
“So, what now?” asked Molly tucking one leg under her and facing Plater.
“Damn.” said Plater. “The diagram.”
He put his cup down and grabbed a legal pad and pen from the table. Poised with the pen above the paper his eyes lost focus as he tried to put himself back in the creaking cabin of the old ship.
“I can’t make it out.” he said. “Damnit!”
Plater cast the pad onto the coffee table and thumped his knee with a fist.
“This is ridiculous.” he said. “I can’t do what they want me to do, but I can’t avoid them. Whenever I sleep, I can’t help falling into their world. But if I can’t do what they want what good is it? What’ll I become? Some paranoid schizo who can’t tell dreams from reality?”
Plater’s hand was still tightly clenched. Molly put her coffee down and reached over. Her arm slid round him and guided his head to her shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay.” she began, not sure if she believed that or not. “I’ll help you. You just need more practice and you’ll be able to control this, this gift you have.”
They sat in silence as the first fingers of light from the new day began clawing at the curtains.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DR. GRANGER’S RECEPTIONIST barely had time to read ‘HM Government’ on the small identity card before the holder, a tall man in a dark jacket, had pulled it from her view and was placing it back in an inside pocket.
“We’ll see ourselves in, thank you.” said the man.
Then he and a shorter man in a leather jacket, crossed to Dr. Granger’s office door and entered without knocking. The receptionist’s startled complaints were lost as the men closed the office door behind them.
“Who are you?” said Granger, getting to his feet.
“I believe you’re expecting us, Dr. Granger.” said the taller man.
Granger seemed to be anticipating more of an explanation, but the two men just waited.
“Your colleagues have gone.” began Granger. “They left more than an hour ago, I’m sure I can’t answer any more questions.”
“We’re attached to the Home Office sir, you’re expecting to release two patients to our custody.” said the tall man.
“Yes, yes of course, I’m sorry, I thought you were more police. I have the files right here.” Granger began to walk his fingers through a pile of files on his desk.
“What were the police doing here?” asked the tall man.
Granger pulled two manila folders from the pile.
“Yes, well it’s a bit awkward actually. Will you sit down?” he said.
“No, Dr. Granger, we really need to press on.”
“It’s just that, well, we had an incident here last night, involving one of the patients you’ve come to collect actually.” said Granger, starting to sound nervous.
“What sort of incident?”
“The woman, Hartston, was removed from the clinic.” said Granger, holding out the two files for the tall man to take.
“By whom?” said the tall man, making no attempt to accept the files.
“I don’t know.” began Granger, slowly letting his arm holding the folders sag, until he placed the files back on his desk. “Two people turned up here pretending to visit one of our nurses and the receptionist let them go through. Then it seems they took Hartston from her bed, out through a fire exit and into a car.”
Granger could see this news was not well received.
“Our security guard gave chase.” he added.
“What do the police know?” asked the tall man.
“That’s the thing.” said Granger. “The CCTV shows nothing, not inside or the ones in the grounds and when they drove off, they cut across the grass and the cameras operate closer to the buildings.”
The taller man glanced at the shorter one, who turned and left the room.
“Did the guard get the number of the car?” said the tall man.
Granger looked pained.
“It was too dark.” he said.
“Well, that isn’t very good now is it, Dr Granger?” began the tall man. “I understood that this was a secure facility. My superiors will no doubt be in contact. In the meantime, we’ll collect the man.”
Granger selected the man’s file from his desk and this time, the tall man took it. The door opened and the shorter man came back in. He spoke softly to the taller man as he passed him. Granger couldn’t hear what was said.
“We understood that neither patient had any family?” said the tall man.
“That’s right.” said Granger.
“Had the woman been visited by anyone recently?” said the tall man.
“No, she’d been here for three years and never had a visitor in all that time.”
“I don’t think you’ll be hearing from the police again on this matter Dr Granger, it wouldn’t look good for the clinic. But perhaps a review of security might be warranted?”
Granger seemed a little surprised.
“Yes.” he said. “Yes, we’ll certainly be tightening things up around here, you can count on that.”
Neither visitor looked impressed and waited in silence. After a moment Granger realized he should escort them to collect the male patient.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE HEAVY CURTAINS moved easily on the steel rods and within seconds, the outside world seemed very far away. Huge church candles flickered in dark metal holders, some shaped like fantastic creatures with coiled tails and bat-like wings.
Two figures busied themselves at a strong wooden table draped with a red cloth. They arranged items from an old metal box carefully in a line. First, a black bowl about the size of half a grapefruit, then a dagger with jewels embedded in the handle.
“You must tell me.” said one of the figures, the smaller of the two. “I deserve to know.”
The other figure, taller and with an air of command, stopped his arranging of two pieces of parchment bearing circular designs. He stood to his full height, which was a good half a foot taller than the other.
“Grobus, you are nothing but the shit to be scraped from his feet. You deserve nothing!” The words stung the shorter man and he continued his work, shoulders rounded.
The taller man, known as Oculus, turned and left through a wide door in the far wall, leaving Grobus to his task. Grobus was not his real name but a magical one. It was customary in the Order to adopt a magical name.
Once finished laying out the items on the table, the hunched figure collected a bucket and mop that stood by the door and began cleaning the shiny black floor. A pattern was etched in the stone tiles that created a double circle more than ten feet in diameter. The inner circle was about a foot inside the outer and in the space between the two were inscribed symbols. At four places around the circle the cardinal points of the compass were picked out. Once finished with the mopping, Grobus placed metal stands at these four points.
Grobus glanced at his watch; two hours to go. Two hours should be enough time for the remaining tasks he had to complete. Preparation was so important. Even he knew that. He resented the words Oculus had used. He was not a Master but neither was he a Novice. Seven years he had studied. He had performed every task set for him by Oculus and the other High Grades of the Order. He had never complained, since he had taken his own magical name of Grobus, as all initiates must. Had he not given up most of his non-magical life to better serve the Order? A wife and daughter he now hardly heard from being but a part of what he had surrendered in his pursuit of power. Not earthly power, but real power, over the souls of men. Now he only wanted to know what the significance of his vision had been. Ever since he had described it, Oculus and those of the higher degrees had urged him for more detail but he told them all he could remember. He needed to know if his visions might in some small way advance the Order's quest for The Book. Being of such lowly rank, he was only aware of The Book by deliberately oblique references dropped in his presence by those of higher rank. He thought it was at times deliberate, to remind him of his ignorance. But he knew from his own reading and study of the old texts that a book existed that held the words of beings from the very highest planes. Words of power and words of the old language that few understood. He knew that the members of the High Order did not have The Book. They knew of it and sought it but, Grobus believed, they had so far only managed to discover pieces. Others sought this knowledge. Others less worthy. The Order was engaged in a struggle and a race. Grobus wanted with all his being to be a part of that struggle.
