Asylum: The Complete Series (All 8 Books) Read online

  It's been years since Julia died, but her brain is still functioning in that tank. Sometimes I stare at her and I wonder if she's properly conscious. Dr. Sospiri, who claims to be an expert on these things, insists that she's only alive on a technical level, that there isn't enough energy to keep her consciousness running. But I'm not so sure. Sometimes I see brief flurries on the monitor that make me think she's in there, trapped in the dark, wondering what the hell's happening to her. Perhaps she's dreaming, or screaming, or both.

  "Good night, Mom," I say, staring at the brain.

  "Good night, son," I imagine her saying, but of course she can't say anything at all. Damn it, I wish I knew what her voice sounded like. I've seen a photo of her face, although it was from after she arrived at Lakehurst; in fact, it was from just before she went in for her operation, so her head was shaved and she had this look of absolute terror in her eyes. I don't know what she looked like when she was properly alive, out there in the real world before she ended up at Lakehurst. I'd like to think she was a beautiful, vibrant woman with a great mind and a happy life, although that doesn't really make sense. How would someone with any kind of future end up throwing it all away and being committed to Lakehurst? The truth is, there must have been something pretty horribly wrong with her. She must have been a complete fuck-up. I guess I'd rather not know the truth.

  "Jerry!" calls out a voice from another room. I turn, startled. Wandering through, I find Nurse Perry has come down to the basement. She's looking good today, with her eye having almost completely healed after the little accident she suffered a while ago. "Hey," she says, smiling. "Have you seen Morris?"

  I shake my head. Morris, the janitor, is an old guy who regularly vanishes for hours on end. I have no idea where he is, and I don't really care. He's not exactly the best janitor in the history of the world, and I generally try to keep out of his way as much as possible.

  "I need him to clean up a spill," she says. "You sure he's not down here somewhere?"

  "I pretty much live down here," I reply. "This is my space. Trust me, I know if someone's down here or not".

  She sighs. "I don't suppose you've got a few spare minutes to come and -"

  "No no no," I say. "I don't do clean-ups. Not of organic things. I just fix machines".

  "Jerry, please -"

  "No!" I say firmly. "If you've spilled some microchips or some nano-transponders, I'll come and clean those up. But if you've spilled blood or guts or other human stuff, get someone else".

  "I'm rushed off my feet -" she insists.

  "Sorry," I say. "No can do. Strict policy. If I do it once, I'll end up doing it all the time, and believe me, I've got my work cut out for me down here".

  She smiles. "I never knew you were so squeamish".

  "It's not that," I say, annoyed that she knows me so well.

  She nods. "Okay. Well, if you see Morris, send him up, would you?" She turns and heads over to the elevator, and then she pauses. "Jerry?" she says, turning back to me. "You doing anything later?"

  I smile. "The usual time?" I ask.

  She nods. "The usual time," she says, stepping into the elevator. I watch as the doors close and the chamber heads back up to the ward, and then I walk over to the machines in the corner of the room. Checking my watch, I see that it's almost 2pm, which easily gives me a few hours before I need to go up to my room and get showered. Fine, I should be able to get everything done by then, provided there aren't any more distractions. People from up on the ward have a nasty habit of assuming that I have an easy job. They think I don't really do much, that I just potter around with the machines, but that's not true at all. Hell, I'm probably more stressed them all of them put together.

  As I turn to go back through to the transducer, the little buzzer hooked up to the laptop starts buzzing again. Sighing, I walk over and pick it up. I stare at it for a moment before breaking the top off, forcing it to fall silent. Damn thing. That's all I need. Another faulty buzzer.

  Kieran Evans

  Finding Lakehurst Psychiatric Hospital is almost impossible. For some reason, it's not marked on any GPS system, nor is it shown in any online mapping services. There's no website, no listing in any online or offline phone directories, and barely any mention of the place anywhere. Locating this place is like locating a top-secret military base: it's quite clear that someone has gone to great lengths to keep it hidden.

  I found one website, which had a few photos of the place from the 1980s and mentioned various conspiracy theories, but the site seemed to be abandoned and although I emailed the webmaster asking for information, he never got back to me. I scoured that website for information, for anything that could tell me more about Lakehurst. I found a few details about the staff, and some rumors about experiments being conducted at the place. One guy even claimed that an old Nazi scientist was living in the attic. It was all pretty off-the-wall stuff, easy to dismiss as a bunch of paranoid fantasies. Still, it's interesting to wonder why Lakehurst prompts people to respond in such a way. There's got to be something strange about the place.

  Eventually I pulled a few strings and inquired through official channels, and after several weeks I finally got what I wanted: an address. Even then, though, it wasn't an easy job to pin down exactly where Lakehurst can be found. There's nothing out here but rolling countryside and thick, impenetrable forests. I tried feeding the address into GPS, but as I got within a hundred miles the GPS system seemed to get scrambled, as if some outside signal was interfering. I ended up driving around for almost two full days before I finally drove up a dirt track and spotted a building in the distance. I recognized it immediately from those website photos. After all the searching, I knew I'd finally found Lakehurst.

  Pulling up in the driveway, I get out of my car and look up at the imposing facade of the building. Whoever built Lakehurst, they were keen to make an impression. It's the kind of building that gives you a bit of a chill. The windows look so empty, and to be honest the whole place seems deserted, yet this is a functioning psychiatric hospital with - according to my sources - dozens of patients and a full complement of doctors and nurses. I turn and look out across the countryside. Lakehurst sure has a great view, though there's something deathly about the scene, as if the hospital itself casts its thrall as far as the horizon. I feel as if I'm intruding upon a very private place, as if Lakehurst itself doesn't want me here. Hell, there's not even a sign to welcome visitors. It definitely feels like the people inside the building won't be pleased that I'm here, but then I'm not here for them. I'm here for one person; I'm here for someone who should never have come to Lakehurst in the first place.

  Pulling out some pieces of paper from my pocket, I look at the print-outs of old photos. It looks like Lakehurst was already starting to crumble in the 1980s, and judging by the state of the place today, they haven't spent much money fixing the place up. It looks slightly shabby, though I can see that the windows are tightly secured and the front door looks to have a very modern security system. There this sense of incongruity about the whole place, with weeds overgrown around the steps and cracks in the brickwork, yet there are some very modern security cameras dotted around. It's almost as if the people who run this place want it to look like it's rundown, even though it appears to have a state-of-the-art security system installed.

  As I approach the steps leading up to the main door, I spot movement over to one side of the building. An elderly man appears, pushing a wheelbarrow. I stand and watch him for a moment until he notices me, and I can see that he's surprised by my presence. He squints as he tries to make me out, and I wander over toward him. I guess he's the gardener or the janitor, rather than a member of the medical staff.

  "Hi," I say as I reach him. "This is Lakehurst, right?"

  He pauses for a moment. "It is," he says finally. "Are you lost?"

  "Not any more," I reply. "I'm here to visit someone".

  "Is that right?" He seems to be studying me, trying to work out who and what I am. "Did
you call ahead?"

  "I couldn't find a phone number," I tell him. "I figured it's such an out of the way place, hopefully there's a little leeway if I've arrived outside of visiting hours".

  "I don't know about that," he says. "You can always try. Just go to the main door and press the buzzer".

  "I'll do that," I reply, as the man pushes his wheelbarrow away from me. I watch as he goes, and after a moment he glances back at me. I'm definitely getting the feeling that this isn't the kind of place that gets many visitors.

  Walking up the steps to the front door, I press the buzzer and wait. Moments later, I see a figure approaching the door from inside, and a woman looks out at me. She's wearing a nurse's uniform, and she has a nasty-looking black eye.

  "Can I help you?" she asks. "Are you lost?"

  "I'm here to visit someone," I say. "Can I come in?"

  She stares at me blankly. "You want to visit someone?" she says, as if she can't quite believe it. She's acting like I've just asked for something bizarre or ridiculous.

  I nod. "Is that allowed? I'm sorry, I couldn't find much information so I decided to just turn up and try my luck". I look at my watch. "It's only three o'clock. Am I too late?"

  She pauses for a moment, her eyes fixed on me as if I'm the strangest thing she's ever seen. Finally she presses a button and I hear the lock slide across, and she opens the door. "You'd better come in," she says, as I step inside. She pushes the door shut behind me. "I don't know if a visit can be arranged, though. We'll have to check with Nurse Winter. Can I ask who you're here to see?"

  "Well..." I take a deep breath. "It's a little awkward, really. I'm here to see Annie Radford".

  "Annie Radford?" Now she looks almost scared of me.

  "I know she's here," I continue. "I also know I'm not supposed to know she's here. But I do know, so that's that. Like I said, I would have called in advance if I'd been able to find a phone number. I hope Annie's up to receiving visitors".

  The nurse stares at me. She seems confused, as if she has no idea what to do. Is it possible that I'm the first visitor at Lakehurst for a very long time?

  "Can I ask your name?" she says.

  "Kieran Evans," I say, looking at the name tag on her chest. "And you must be Nurse Perry".

  She smiles awkwardly. "Won't you come with me, and I'll see what can be done?"

  We walk along the corridor. The whole place seems so quiet. I've never been to a psychiatric hospital before, and I guess I was expecting the place to be more chaotic. I've seen films about this kind of place, and I guess I thought there'd be people shuffling around and looking crazy, when in fact it feels very much like a normal hospital. There's no screaming in the distance, no sign of panic or disorder. I'm kind of impressed, to be honest, though I'm also a little creeped out. I mean, how can you keep a load of mentally ill people together in complete silence like this? Surely they should be making some noise, even if they're just talking somewhere in a room?

  "Wait here, please," Nurse Perry says as we reach a chair in the corridor. I watch as she walks over to a door and knocks. There's a plaque next to the door that simply reads: Nurse K. Winter. After waiting for a moment, Nurse Perry steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, leaving me alone in the corridor.

  I look down at the chair. Clearly I'm supposed to sit and wait like a good little boy, but I decide to wander along the corridor and poke around. I can't explain why, but I've got a really strong feeling that I'm not supposed to be here at all. You'd think a psychiatric hospital would get visitors occasionally, but Lakehurst seems to try very hard to keep itself hidden. Reaching an open door, I glance into a large empty room with a bunch of chairs arranged in a circle. Looks like this is where the patients sit and have group sessions, which is the first sign so far that this place really functions as a proper hospital. To be honest, I was starting to worry that they kept all their patients locked in a dungeon, but I guess I'm just being slightly paranoid.

  I wander around a corner and find myself in an empty corridor. It just feels strange that there's not more activity around the place. I keep walking, looking at the doors on either side, and I realize that these appear to be patients' rooms. There's a name on each door, but I don't see one for Annie. I guess there must be -

  "Excuse me," mutters a voice behind me.

  Having not realized there was someone there, I turn quickly, shocked. There's a late-middle-aged man in a white medical coat, staring straight at me.

  "Sorry," I say, "I was just -"

  "It's fine, it's fine," he says. "I just wanted to..." His voice trails off; he seems lost in his own thoughts.

  I look at his name-tag as he hurries past: Dr. A. Campbell. "I was just looking," I say.

  "It's fine," he mutters, before stopping and turning back to me. He looks so upset, so worried. "I made a terrible mistake," he says. "I should never have let this happen. I suppose I'm just delaying things. Judgment day and all that, you know?"

  "Sorry?" I reply. "I'm not sure I -"

  "It all seems so cruel now," he continues, "but at the time it..." He pauses again. "I hope people won't think I'm a monster". He turns and hurries away, disappearing around the next corner. Puzzled, I follow him, but when I get into the next corridor I find that there's no sign of him. I didn't hear any doors opening, but I guess he must have gone into one of the rooms. Either that, or he vanished into thin air.

  Hearing some voices ahead, I walk to the end of the corridor and find another open door. Finally I see some patients, about a dozen of them sitting around in what looks like a recreation room. Careful not to draw attention to myself, I watch as one of the patients shuffles across the room toward the windows. She stands and looks out, with a kind of blank and vacant look on her face. This is the kind of thing I was expecting when I arrived here, and it feels good to see that at least some parts of Lakehurst seem like a real hospital. There's no sign of Annie, though. She has to be around here somewhere, right? Or are they going to pretend she's not here at all?

  Suddenly the girl at the window turns to look at me.

  "Can I help you?" says a voice, and I turn to find another nurse standing behind me. She's a little older than the first, with dark black hair and a slightly fake smile. Nurse Perry is standing a little way further off, looking worried.

  "Kieran Evans," I say. "I'm here to see Annie Radford".

  "Kirsten Winter," she replies as we shake hands. "Would you like to come along to my office?" She turns to Nurse Perry. "You can resume your duties now," she says, and Nurse Perry hurries into the recreation room like a scared mouse.

  "I hope I didn't come at a bad time," I say as Nurse Winter leads me back to her office. "Everyone seems a little jumpy".

  "Not at all," she says. "There's never a bad time. Not really. Of course, there's never really a good time, either". She smiles. "That was a little joke".

  When we get to her office, I'm surprised to find that it's a large, oak-paneled room lined at one end by a large bookshelf. I don't quite understand why a nurse would be in charge of a place like this, but I guess it's not my place to ask such questions. Maybe I'm a little old-fashioned, but I'd assumed Lakehurst would be run by some old guy in a suit.

  "I hope you didn't have any trouble finding us today," Nurse Winter says as she sits behind her desk.

  "Not too much," I reply, sitting on the nearby sofa.

  "Now this might seem a little awkward," she continues, "but I'm afraid you've had a wasted trip. There seem to be rumors circulating that Annie Radford is a patient of ours. Unfortunately for you, those rumors are untrue. While I'm sure we would have been able to help a troubled girl such as Annie, I'm afraid the court decided to send her elsewhere".

  I smile, having anticipated she'd try to put me off like this. "Judge Euan Collard himself sent me," I say, seeing the instant look of concern on her face. She knows her lie is dashed. "He and my father go way back. He's a rock-solid man. Reliable. He told me Annie's here, so... Annie's here".


  She pauses for a moment. "I hope you understand," she continues, "that the location of a patient such as Annie Radford is a matter of great interest -"

  "I get it," I say. "You have to protect her. For all you know, I'm some journalist for a trashy tabloid, looking to get an exclusive, or I'm a maniac who thinks Annie deserves to die". I reach into my pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper, which I place on her desk. "That's a letter of personal recommendation from Judge Collard himself. As you'll see, he thinks it's perfectly acceptable for me to see Annie".

  She takes the letter, unfolds it and reads it. There's a look of disdain on her face, but she can't argue with what's right in front of her. "How do you know Annie?" she asks eventually, putting the letter down.

  "We met once," I say.

  "Just once?"

  "Just once," I continue, "but sometimes once is enough. We got to know each other quite well, and she helped me with some work I was doing".

  "What work might that be?" Nurse Winter asks.

  "Triangulating radio signals," I reply. "Well, when I say she helped me, what I mean is that she made me see things a little differently. It was the night before the incident... Well, to be honest, it was the night before the day she killed her brother".

  "A terrible business," she says.

  "An awful business," I add, amused by how formal she's being. "Anyway, the point is, immediately after all of that stuff happened, I made a breakthrough with my work. I also felt like I should try to see Annie again. So while I was working on my radio project, I was also trying to find her. And then..." I pause for a moment. "Well, here's the thing. It turned out that my radio project and my search for Annie both converged at the same place. Here".