Page 55 of Into the Dark

There was a pause, then:Knock, knock.

Two knocks for yes. “Are you trying to tell us something?”

Two more knocks, a pause—then a flurry of knocks, broken up by short pauses. Oscar frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I think I do.” Dr. Lawson took a pencil and notebook out of her pocket. “She’s tapping out the alphabet. One for the letter A, two for B.”

Knock, knock!

“I assume that’s a yes.” Oscar said. “All right, Ruby. We’re listening.”

The knocks erupted in a long flurry, followed by a pause, followed by more knocks. Dr. Lawson listened intently, the tip of her tongue slightly protruding as she concentrated. At the end of every series of knocks, she’d write something on her notepad.

At last, the rapping fell silent. Lawson tore off the piece of paper and held it up for them all to see.

L-O-O-K-I-N-T-H-E-D-O-C-T-O-R-S-C-L-O-S-E-T

“Look in the doctor’s closet,” Nigel read. “What does that mean?”

“The staff quarters on the second floor?” Adrienne guessed. “That’s where the superintendent lived. The other doctors were on the third floor, so I guess we could look in the closets there, too.”

“Is that right, Ruby?” Oscar asked in the direction of the chute. When there was no answer, he tried, “Should we go to the second or third floors?”

Nothing. “She’s probably used what energy she had,” Nigel said.

“Then it’s up to us to figure it out.” Zeek gestured to the end of the ward. “I say we poke around and see what we can find.”

They headed to the central section of the building, to where the grand staircases curved around the elevator. As they climbed, the elevator cables creaked within their iron shaft, as though the old machine longed to lurch into motion. Oscar took out his EMF reader; it blipped and flashed in jagged spikes, then settled back to baseline.

Which meant he could worry about the old elevator later. Zeek had already reached the second floor and was waiting on the landing, not quite foolhardy enough to race ahead. When they’d all gathered, Nigel bringing up the rear, he opened the door.

The second floor quarters, where the superintendent and senior doctors had lived, were far more opulent than anything else in the asylum, even given their years of deterioration. The small common room the door opened onto contained a piano, slowly collapsing to the ground, the rat-chewed remains of a Persian carpet, and sagging couches and chairs that looked to have lasted since the Victorian era. A grandfather clock stood silent against one wall, and crystal decanters, their contents long evaporated, waited on a sideboard. A billiards table rounded out the scene, its green felt leopard-spotted with mold.

Two doors led to the rear of the building, both standing open to reveal what must have been small sitting rooms. The single door toward the front was shut; beside it was a small brass plaque that readSuperintendent’s Suite.

“I say we try that one first,” Oscar said with a nod to the door.

Zeek pushed it cautiously open, the rest crowding behind him. The door let onto a spacious sitting room, complete with a fireplace set in a marble surround. Carpets that must have once held all the colors of spring lay in tatters on the wooden floor, and wing-backed chairs were drawn up near the fireplace. Sunlight leaked through windows that in the asylum’s heydaywould have a beautiful view of the rolling lawns and the mountains beyond.

To the right was an arch decorated with rococo designs, opening onto a dining room. The long table was dull from years of dust, but must once have gleamed beneath the chandelier hanging overhead. A china cabinet still held a few plates and cups, abandoned by whoever had last lived in this space.

To the left were three doors. The first Zeek tried opened onto a bathroom complete with a claw-footed tub disturbingly similar to the one Mariah had died in. The second had a twin bed, but clearly had been used as a storage space for some time, with random pieces of furniture shoved inside.

“Let’s hope this isn’t it, or we’ll be moving furniture all day,” Zeek said, and shut the door again.

Dr. Lawson strode to the final door and flung it open. Inside was what had no doubt been the master bedroom. An antique bed dominated the space, thin curtains still sagging around it. One end of the room seemed shorter than it had been in the other two rooms, as if a wall had been added at some point. The door set into it was cracked open just enough for Oscar to hear a faint buzzing coming from it.

He’d almost forgotten he was holding the EMF reader until it came to life, beeping urgently and flashing to yellow.

“That must be the closet,” Dr. Lawson said, hanging back. “Probably added later, since closets really didn’t come into vogue until a decade after the asylum was built.”

“So what’s inside?” Adrienne asked, looking to the reader in Oscar’s hand.

“Whatever Ruby wanted us to find.” He took a breath, centering himself, then crossed the room and opened the door.

He braced himself for a ghost, or a shadow person, or whatever else might be lurking inside this dusty, forgotten place. What he actually saw shocked him far more than any ghost.

A large battery sat to one side, connected to a motor, which in turn led to a metal tube. Atop the tube sat a large metal sphere. The hum grew louder, coming from somewhere inside the device. Not a speck of dust had accrued to any of it; the machine had been put here recently.

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