Asylum (Asylum, #1)(21)
“Look for hidden doors, latches, anything,” he said, squeezing between his friends. The beam from the flashlight he’d brought this time bounced along the floor and up the walls as he studied the filing cabinets and bookshelves. Abby drifted to the wall beside the desk and immediately found the picture of the little girl again. Jordan stood frozen as if he’d already seen enough. Dan ignored them and pressed ahead.
He moved from one bookcase to the next, shining his light over the cracks between each one. Dust covered everything, shimmering up into the air at even the lightest disturbance. Going clockwise, Dan eventually ended up at a cluster of filing cabinets that lined the wall behind the warden’s desk. The third cabinet in the bunch looked strangely cocked, as if it had been pulled out from the wall and pushed back again, but not all the way. This was it, he knew it. As if to confirm his suspicion, a pair of rusted, broken spectacles hung from a hook on the other side of the cabinet. He reached out to touch them, then stopped. There were fingerprint streaks on the wall behind the glasses, like someone had hung them up with a bloody hand.
“Guys, I think I found something,” he said, reaching around to the back of the cabinet and gripping the edge. He pulled, and the cabinet lurched half an inch forward, its metal feet screeching across the floor.
“What are you doing?” Jordan hissed. “Don’t break anything.”
“Let me help.” Abby was at his side, gripping the front right edge of the cabinet and counting, “One, two, three.”
They heaved, and the cabinet eased forward a foot, giving them a glimpse of an opening behind.
“No way,” Abby breathed. “A secret passage? Is this for real? How did you know to look here?”
“The spectacles,” Dan said, pointing to the hook and the glasses.
Abby looked at the streak marks, shuddered, and then seemed to collect herself.
“Just a little farther and I think we can squeeze through,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Nope. No, thank you. I am not going in there.” Jordan shuffled a few steps backward, holding his hands up as if in surrender.
“Suit yourself. I want to see where this leads.” She motioned for Dan to help her out, and after one last moment of hesitation, Dan reached for the back of the cabinet and pulled. In two quick tugs, their way was clear.
“Use your flashlight, Dan. I can’t see anything.”
He went through first, his heart pounding in his ears.
“This must have been a real doorway once, but it looks like someone tried to brick it off,” Dan said as he and Abby crouched and walked through to the next room.
“Then who opened it back up?”
Bits of loose brick and wall scattered from Dan’s shoes. “Professor Reyes mentioned something about a senior seminar archiving this place. I’m guessing they needed to knock a hole in the wall to get access.”
The ceiling and walls opened up, and with a quick sweep of the flashlight, Dan determined they were in a second, smaller office, this one with nothing but two tan filing cabinets and a downward stairwell to the right.
“What’s in there?” Jordan called from the other side, making them both jump.
“Nothing much,” Dan replied, nearing the cabinets. Little placards with A–D, E–I, and so on down the alphabet were affixed to each drawer. “Just patient records, I think. You can come through if you want.”
Jordan appeared from the narrow passage, his eyes wide and spooked. He noticed the dark stairwell and recoiled. “Please tell me you are not thinking about going down there, Abs.”
“We haven’t even found anything yet,” she replied, flashing her phone toward the stairs. “Feels cold. I bet it leads down to a whole lower level.”
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t go. Have you seen even one horror movie? Jesus!”
“I just want to see where it goes,” she said. “And the stairs don’t look too bad.” Gingerly, she put one foot on the top stair and transferred her weight to it. “See? Sturdy enough.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dan offered.
“Great. Awesome. You two go into the abyss, then. I’ll just be here not getting axe-murdered.”
Together, Dan and Abby carefully took the stairs down, testing each step before putting their full weight on it. Dan wanted to think it was romantic, the way they were watching out for each other, but it was a stretch, even before you considered the cold and the moldy smell that grew stronger with every step. At last the stairs ended abruptly, winding around into a narrow corridor. Step by step they crept forward, the corridor pressing in on them, making Dan feel like he couldn’t breathe. He wondered how claustrophobic it must have felt working down here—especially if you were trying to push a wheelchair or a gurney along this narrow hall.
Doors began appearing on their left and then their right, staggered every few yards or so. Abby drew up in front of one, flashing her light into the little slot of a window set in the door.
“God,” she murmured. “There’s still stuff laying around.”
“What kind of stuff? Let’s see.” Dan opened the door and inched inside, frightened of what they might find. He shined his flashlight into the darkness.
Instantly, he felt sick. It was the room from his vision, right down to the operating table and the bloody shackles on the wall. How could he have seen a room he’d never been in? He felt shaky and weak, and leaned against the door while Abby toured around the room with her tiny cell phone light.