“This place is unhealthy as…hell,” Barb said, looking around the parking lot. “Nearly literally. I mean really, really bad.”
“You’re serious?” Kurt said, grinning nervously.
“ Bad bad,” Barb said. “Bad on toast. Like, my first instinct is to burn it down and kill everyone near it.”
“Don’t,” Kurt said. “I know you’re covered for stuff, but that would be pretty hard to cover up.”
“Seriously bad,” Barb said, taking a deep breath. “Makes me want to scream…”
“The patient exhibits many classic signs of psychosis with, however, some idiosyncratic additions,” Dr. Downing said.
Oddly enough, it was the same doctor who had been treating Janea. Now that Barb knew he was associated with this mental facility, she intended to get him unassociated as fast as possible.
The patient was restrained. Tightly. Barb was familiar with restraints, having spent some time under them herself after her first encounter with a demon and before Augustus pulled some strings to get her out of psychiatric care. But the ones they’d used on her were light compared to what they had on the young man in the bed.
“How idiosyncratic?” Barb asked, disturbed by the sight of the otherwise healthy young man’s condition.
“Most patients in this type of condition tend to bite,” Dr. Downing said, pulling out a probe. “Most of those, however, do not tend to swallow whatever they bite off. These patients do. And, observe,” he continued, pressing the probe into the base of Darren’s foot.
“I didn’t see anything,” Kurt said. “Except him continuing to…”
“Writhe,” Barb finished.
“You should have,” the psychiatrist said. “That should have elicited a pain response, even in a patient suffering from psychosis. A yell, a howl, some type of response. And,” he continued, pulling out a small rubber mallet. “Observe.”
He tapped the subject just below his knee and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure his leg didn’t twitch,” Barb said, frowning. “He should have had an involuntary movement, a reflex response. Right?”
“Correct,” the doctor said, smiling as if at a marginally bright student. “No reflex responses, no pain responses, but their autonomic nervous systems continue to function, they breathe, their hearts beat and they have control over their voluntary muscles. But, if I were to remove the restraints and let him walk, you would observe that his motions are powerful but uncoordinated in the extreme.”
“I…need to check something,” Barb said, then frowned. “I take it that anything that goes on in here is confidential?”
“Yes,” Dr. Downing said, frowning in turn. “What sort of examination?”
“One that’s going to make you shake your head and wonder if the Bureau is going nuts,” Kurt said. “And one that you’re not going to comment on under any circumstances. Under the Uniform Federal Code Section Eighteen. In a real and legally binding sense.”
“Oh,” Dr. Downing said. “O…kay?”
“It won’t take a moment,” Barb said. She hated to Open in this place, but it was going to be necessary. Because there was something screaming at her about the patient. He looked healthy enough at first glance, but something was…screaming.
She laid her hand on his brow, careful to avoid the gnashing teeth, then Opened up her Sight.
The first thing she noticed was, in fact, the neurologist. His aura was as black as the ace of spades. She saw him tense and looked over with a thin, fierce grin.
“Okay, I suppose this isn’t quite as unusual as I’d have thought for you,” Barb said.
“What…are you?” Downing asked, carefully.
“As it turns out, your worst nightmare,” Barb replied. She reached for the soul of the afflicted and paused. “Jesus Christ,” she said, softly.
“I wouldn’t have expected you to curse,” Kurt said.
“That wasn’t a curse, Special Agent,” Barb said. “That was a prayer. This person is dead.”
“Dead?” Dr. Downing said, snorting. “I can assure you, as a physician-”
“With what’s riding you, there’s no way that you heal,” Barb said. “So calling yourself a physician, Doctor, is a stretch. Research. Poke. Prod. Possibly advance science. But that…thing in you isn’t going to allow you to ever heal. And when I said this person was dead, I was very specific. This…thing has no soul. None. No ka. No ba. It is a walking dead thing.”
“Zombie?” Kurt said. “Please, not zombies.”
“Not the movie zombie,” Barb said. “I’m not sure what it is or how it was created. But this person has no more soul than a rock. How it’s continuing to exist is a real question. There is power coming from somewhere that is continuing to give it the semblance of life.” She stepped back and started to close down. Then, just as an exercise, she fully Opened her Power.
Dr. Downing immediately took an involuntary step backwards and grunted. In the distance, one of the patients started howling, setting off others.
“What just happened?” Kurt asked, looking around.
“ That is what I am, Doctor,” Barb said. “Is that clear enough for you?”
What was clear was that it wasn’t simply the neurologist that inflicted the place. It stank with evil, and shadows filled every corner.
“Yes,” the doctor said in a strained voice.
“God has given me the grace to be His sword upon this land, Doctor,” Barb said, softly. “Your Master cannot prevail against me, for I wear the armor of righteousness, and the power of the Lord is held in both right hand and left. So fill us in and quit playing power games. I have neither the time nor the patience, and this place quite frankly wants me here slightly less than I want to stay.”
“I have a short video I’d like to show you.”
The video started with Darren apparently asleep in the traditional rubber room. He was slumped in one corner, his mouth open and flaccid but his limbs twitching.
“I thought these things were a myth,” Kurt said, looking at the view.
“They are not a preferred environment,” Dr. Downing said. He’d managed to calm down a bit on the walk to the meeting room and was still trying for suave and debonair. However, he was keeping the special agent between himself and Barbara.
“But there are conditions in which they are useful. Such as this one. I wanted to observe his actions under a variety of stimuli, and given the reports of his admission, I was unwilling to do so outside of a controlled environment. He was heavily sedated when placed in the room, and the first part is rather boring. I’ll fast forward.”
The digital file skipped forward until, in fast motion, Darren lurched to his feet and started walking.
“There,” the doctor said. “Note the nature of the motion.”
“He looks like a zombie,” Kurt said, his brow furrowing. “Christ, why’d it have to be zombies?”
“Yes,” Dr. Downing said, smiling faintly. “He does, doesn’t he? Arms extended, although more to the side than the traditional zombie look. And that would be why?”
“His balance,” Barb said, nodding. “He’s got real balance problems.”
“Due to the lack of reflex,” Dr. Downing said. “It gives him the equivalent of an inner-ear infection, and he uses his arms to maintain his balance.”
Barbara leaned into the video and nodded.
“His lips are moving,” she said. “Is there audio?”
“There is,” the doctor said, turning it on.
The syllables were harsh and guttural, mixed with moans and occasional shrieks.
“It appears to be random babble,” the psychiatrist said. “Not entirely idiosyncratic, but uncommon. Normally the patient would be speaking recognizable words but disconnected in syntax. Along with occasional disconnected threats or pleas.”
“I’m not sure that’s babble,” Barb said, listening for a moment longer. “Get me a copy of the audio file. Actually, copies of the audio and video.”
