CHAPTER SEVEN
Luke, Cam, Eric, and Hex picked the lock on the door of the boarded-up facility.
It was a small hospital, only two stories.
From on an initial review of the plans for the facility, it appeared that patient rooms were on the first floor, with examination, surgery, and research rooms on the second floor.
That clearly indicated they never kept more than fifty patients at any one time.
The waiting area had four dusty leather chairs facing a large reception desk, also covered in dust. Through a second door, they entered the hallway that led to patient and exam rooms on the first and second floors.
Eric and Luke took the left hallway, Cam and Hex the right. The pairs searched each room, looking for anything that might tell them what happened here.
In each room were two twin beds, one small dresser, one window locked from the inside, and nothing else. The bathrooms at each end of the hallway were communal rooms with multiple toilets and multiple showers.
One end of the hallway was blue for the boys, they assumed, while the other was painted in pink.
“It feels as though they only took children, no adults,” said Hex. Cam nodded.
“Yeah, that’s not giving me warm fuzzy feelings.”
“Hey!” yelled Luke down the hall. “Y’all come see this.”
Not seeing anything in their end of the hallway, Cam and Hex walked back toward Eric and Luke. They were in a room halfway down the hall, on the right-hand side.
“What’s up? We didn’t see anything unusual where we were,” said Cam.
“Look,” said Eric pointing to the windowsill. Hex and Cam walked toward the window, Luke looking away with an expression of anger and the all-to-familiar look of ‘I’m going to kill someone’.
“What the fuck is that?” whispered Hex. “Are those scratch marks?”
“Put your fingers over them,” said Eric.
Cam and Hex took turns doing so. Although their fingers were larger than those that made the marks, it was painfully clear. Someone, some child had attempted to claw his way out of this room.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” said Hex. “I think we need to see what’s upstairs.”
The staircase wasn’t some grand, welcoming staircase in the center of the building. It was purely mechanical. Designed to get you from floor one to floor two and back again. The steps were metal, creating an eerie echo as they walked up them.
“This would frighten the fuck out of a kid,” said Hex.
“Not if they can’t hear,” said Eric.
“But these kids hear in their own way,” said Cam looking upward. “They would be able to feel the echo and the vibration. That still had to be scary for them.”
At the top of the stairs it opened into a larger space filled with file cabinets, most of which were emptied of their contents.
The four men stayed together, walking into each room.
There were the standard examination tables, overhead lights and a few medical instruments familiar to them, used to check the ears or throat.
“Before y’all leave check the basement. I’ve got one of those feelings.”
“Will do, Ace. Thanks,” said Luke.
In the last room they walked in to see broken instruments scattered everywhere. Strings on banjoes, violins, guitars, cellos, and pianos had been deliberately cut. Flutes, clarinets, and others were bent, snapped in half, or mangled. Even a massive harp had been splintered into fragments.
“They did this before they left,” said Eric. “I can just feel it.”
“Why? The instruments alone would have given them money. Why destroy all of these? Or why not take them with them?” asked Hex.
“They were teaching the kids a lesson,” said Luke. “Either those that were here, or those that ran away and might come back. They wanted them to know they were angry.”
Charts on the wall had pictures of hands showing the alphabet in sign language. There were other charts demonstrating words related to music, or teaching.
“Why is there a surgical table in this room?” asked Cam. Luke stared at the table and shook his head.
“I cannot imagine what these kids went through. What were they forced to do? I heard what Keith had to go through before Uncle Alec found him. What did they do to these children?”
“I don’t know, brother, but we’ll find out,” said Eric. “Let’s see what’s in the basement and I already regret saying that.”
It took them a while to even find the door to the basement. It was hidden inside the kitchen pantry. When Eric ran his hand over the top shelf, well above seven feet high, he felt the small button and depressed it. The shelf swung open just enough for him to grab it and pull it open further.
“I didn’t bring a flashlight,” said Luke. “Use your phones.”
The light on their phones guided them down another set of stairs. What awaited was part of their worst nightmare. Surgical tables were bolted to the floor, scattered across the less than sterile space. Surgical instruments were still littered on counters and tables, some having been used.
“Dear God,” whispered Hex.
The basement space covered the entire footage of the floor above, making it appear larger than it actually was. As the men carefully searched for some clues they could take with them, Luke stopped in front of a large metal door, slightly ajar.
“Luke? What’s wrong?” asked Cam.
“This is what Ace had a feeling about. I just know it.”
Cam stepped forward and pulled the door open further. At first, with the darkness, their eyes adjusted to the blackness. Then it caught sight of what they were afraid to find.
“Children. They didn’t even bury them. They just cut them open and let them die, stacking them in here,” whispered Eric. They all stared at the horrific sight, almost sick to their stomachs.
“Luke? There’s scraps of food. Some of it is recent. Bread, a piece of cake. Someone has been here.”
“We need to get these bodies out of here and identify these kids, give them a decent burial,” said Luke.
“We will, brother,” said Cam. “You know the coroner is going to need some time to get all of them. There must be a dozen in here.”
Hex thought he heard something behind them and turned but didn’t see anything right away. The others stared at him and he signed for them to be quiet. He walked toward a table, then waited silently for the movement to happen again.
From beneath the staircase a pair of eyes stared straight at him. He knelt down, staring back and signed to the pair of eyes.
“I will not hurt you. I want to help you.”
The eyes blinked and then he heard the shuffling of feet. A small boy appeared. A boy who had clearly been operated on. He dragged his right leg, his right arm unable to move.
The right side of his head seemed to be concave, dipping in, then out. The top of his head appeared too large, almost swollen and misshapen, giving his head an egg-like appearance.
“Holy mother of God,” whispered Eric. The boy stared up at the giant of a man and then stepped back. Eric knelt as well, quickly signing to the boy.
“I hope you can understand me. We will help you.” The boy just stared at them and then pulled out a loaf of bread to show the men. “You’ve been feeding the other children?”
Eric could barely hold back his tears. The boy nodded and shuffled toward the door where the children’s bodies were. He set the loaf of bread down and signed to them.
“For you. I get more.”
He walked back out and looked at the men.
“Keith is on his way,” said Luke. “We need him, along with some of the medical team. Keep talking to the boy, Eric. See if we can get him upstairs and out of the basement.”
With a little coaxing, Eric was able to get the boy to allow him to carry him up the steps and into one of the leather chairs. He asked the boy for his name and he shrugged.
“Don’t you have a name?” asked Eric with a smile. He shrugged again. “Can you hear me or do you just know what I’m signing?”
The boy made the sign for signing and Eric nodded.
“What happened to your head?” he asked.
“The doctors cut me. Put me with the other kids in the closet. It was quiet for long time. I pushed door open,” he said in broken sign. “My head hurt. Everyone was gone. I was hungry. Got out of window.”
“You got out through the window?” asked Eric. The boy nodded.
“I took food.”
“I think it’s okay that you took food,” said Eric. “Son, do you understand that the other children couldn’t eat. They’re not alive any longer.”
The boy looked away and didn’t look back at him for a long moment. Then he turned to see all four men in front of him.
“I woke up. Maybe they wake up.”
“This kid has survived whatever they did to him, the death of his friends, and stole food for more than a year, living in this hellhole,” said Hex. “I want to kill someone.” The boy tapped Hex’s hand.
“Doctors killed enough. No kill.”