Page 64 of Into the Dark

Instead of dry and powdery, the plaster on the wall was slick and wet under Oscar’s fingers. It came away in sheets, releasing the smell of rot as it did so.

Zeek grabbed a handful himself, grimacing. “Why is it wet? Ugh, don’t answer that.”

Between the two of them, they soon had the door uncovered. It was just another steel security door, no different from the ones that had led to the other staircases they’d used.

Oscar heaved the door open on groaning hinges, and a blast of icy air surged up to greet him, carrying with it the stink of gangrene. He took an instinctive step back, bile rising in his throat.

“Oh geez.” Zeek pressed his wrist against his mouth. “What the fuck?”

All of Oscar’s instincts screamed at him to turn away, flee back outside into the clean air. Away from whatever horrors waited below.

But Nigel might be down there. And Oscar was damned if he’d leave him behind.

He shone his flashlight down the stairs, but the beam seemed swallowed up by the blackness, as if the shadows were something physical rather than the absence of light. At least the steps were concrete, so he wouldn’t have to worry about them rotting out from under his feet.

“All right,” he said, turning back to face the others. “I’m going down there. It’s pretty obvious the situation isn’t good, so if anyone wants to leave?—”

Adrienne held up a hand to stop him. “Spare us the heroic speech about how you’ll understand if we turn tail, and areprepared to march down there alone. Just get a move on before the entire asylum falls down on our heads.”

“Agreed.” Dr. Lawson took a step forward, as if she’d push Oscar out of the way if he didn’t move fast enough. “You’ve been watching too many action films, Fox. Skip the speeches and shake a leg.”

The yellow paint had completely peeled away from the metal railings, leaving behind great scabs of rust that Oscar had no desire to touch. He led the way down cautiously, half-expecting something to jump out at each turn of the stairs.

Nothing did, though. At the bottom, the steel door stood wide. Its surface was badly dented, as though someone had bludgeoned it open at some point in the past. And beyond…

What the room had started life as, Oscar wasn’t sure. Fire had blackened the brick walls, and a thick layer of ash covered the floor. A metal bedframe and gurney stood scorched alongside melted medical equipment of some sort.

“This must have been the electroshock room,” he said. The ash stirred around his feet as he moved deeper into the space. “Where Nurse Young and Dr. Wilkes died.”

Dr. Lawson played her flashlight over the ruined equipment. “They just sealed the door away and left everything behind. Were they afraid of a scandal if more attention was paid to the doctor’s death?”

“Someone definitely wanted this forgotten.” Adrienne picked her way through tumbled, burned equipment toward the exit. “It makes me think Della Young did kill him. She’d tried to warn the board, and when they ignored her, she took matters into her own hands to save her patients from his ‘care.’ Either she got caught up in the flames accidentally, or she was willing to die with him.”

“If word got out, that would definitely draw unwanted attention,” Dr. Lawson agreed. “If a reporter got hold of the death records and realized the board had ignored malfeasanceon the part of the superintendent they supported…I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised they just plastered over the evidence and pretended it wasn’t here.”

“Let’s just hope the door out isn’t also plastered over,” Adrienne said, and pushed on it.

It swung open with a scream of rusted hinges, revealing a long hallway with pipes running along the ceiling and walls.

“Steam tunnel.” Adrienne took a few steps into the corridor, shining her flashlight along the long-cold pipes. “No sign of Nigel yet.”

Oscar had been trying not to think about the fact the door they’d come through was still sealed up, which meant Nigel couldn’t have come down that way. The only other option was the elevator…which, to be fair, had somehow opened, even though it wasn’t connected to any electricity.

Surely Nigel wouldn’t have been so stupid as to voluntarily get on it. Had he been forced inside somehow?

Was he even down here?

If he wasn’t, he could be anywhere. Lost on the grounds outside, trapped inside some closet or hidden space they hadn’t been able to find. Nigel had mentioned the asylum once had its own coal mine. If he’d fallen through into an old shaft…

His increasingly panicked thoughts must have shown on his face, because Chris’s hand settled on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” they said with a squeeze. “We’ll get him back.”

One thing at a time. “Thanks,” Oscar said.

The long hall paralleled the ward above, first running straight, then in a short dogleg where the nurse’s station and door between wards would be. On the other side, the corridor widened, pipes continuing straight along one wall and the ceiling.

The enormous drums of industrial washing machines lined the back walls, the comparatively small hatches in the frontreminiscent of submarines or iron lungs. Canvas laundry hampers hung in rotting tatters from their steel frames. As with the rest of the asylum, decay seemed to be unnaturally accelerating here, the stainless-steel tables meant for folding and sorting gone mottled with rust. The sour stink of mold poured out of the open washing machines, and greenish slime dripped down their sides.

Overhead, a number of metal chutes emptied into a central hopper. And hanging from the hopper was a long, ragged curtain.

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