Asylum

chapter 13

Chapter 13

    Michael was awake within a half hour and Tommy was still on the floor, staring into space, still thinking what he had seen was a dream, hoping it was, wishing it was, but he knew that it was rooted in wholehearted reality. Michael stood up for a few moments and walked toward Tommy who remained on the floor. The footsteps clicked on the cement floor.

    “What’s wrong?” asked Michael.

    “I saw something,” Tommy said.

    “What?”

    “A ghostly kind of figure...something that spoke...it talked in my head...then it disappeared in the wall,” said Tommy. He sounded frantic.

    “It’s just this place...it’s making you...”

    “Crazy? Is that what you're gonna say? No. I am not crazy. I actually saw it...it was right there. And you’re gonna call me crazy?!” shouted Tommy, standing up and balling his hands into fists.

    “No I’m not....” started Michael, head down.

    “Then what?”

    “Stop being so frantic over all of this...it was just something of the imagination...of the head...this place is just creepy. We should never have come here.”

    “You are calling me crazy,” said Tommy. “But it is true. If we would have known about all this crap we wouldn’t have come on the trip. Our parents are probably still worried sick.”

    “Yea,” Michael said, “now just calm down. Soon we will have the answers we are looking for.”

    “Hopefully,” muttered Tommy. He sat in silence for awhile. Then he started talking again. “Do you ever think about your family?”

    “All the time,” answered Michael, “part of me thinks that they actually are worried about me. But my dad is still probably drunk...he doesn’t even know.” Michael stopped, a couple of tears trickling down his face.

    “I’m sorry,” said Tommy.

    “It’s fine.”

    “Why have you been acting like everything is fine when clearly it isn’t?” asked Tommy.

    “Because what the hell am I supposed to do? Am I just supposed to sit and wallow in all these damn emotions? No! I’m not gonna be like that. Everything is fine for me right now. Besides the threats of death. This environments better than any shit I’ve been through at home!” shouted Michael. He had stood up as well. He did make valid points.

    “I do sometimes understand. My father was once like that. But he cleaned up and now it’s fine. What’re you gonna do?” asked Tommy.

    Michael replied, “Try not to die.” They both laughed. A familiar rattling of keys and the door swung open.

    Manson was standing there with guards accompanying him.

    “Come,” he said. Tommy and Michael stood up and walked forward. Then everything went by in a blur.

    A flash of light.

    Tommy turned around and ran. He saw the guards distracted.

    “Get them!!” screamed Manson. There was a popping of gunfire. Bullets smashed into the cement wall.

    “Come on!” shouted Tommy. Michael dove down a narrow hallway with guards closely on his tail. The popping of gunfire was heard throughout the hallways, as was the sudden shouts of guards. They had to escape. They had seen a flash of light before running. What was that?

    He heard Manson shout.

    Tommy and Michael tore through the hallway and once they came out the other end they skidded to a stop, seeing a few more guards standing in the hall. One of the guards lowered his machine gun and fired and Tommy and Michael twisted around and began running again. Bullets skated against the cement walls, sparks flying.

    They needed to escape...needed to get out...and needed to find the boats and get the hell out of there...

    They both ran toward the front door and began tearing down the steps toward the lake when a sudden shape fell to the ground, crashing into the docks, sending pieces of wood flying. A couple of boats exploded. A couple of the guards outside turned around and began firing. They were trapped.

    They turned around again.

    More guards and Manson.

    And then Martin stepped into view a huge pistol held in his right hand. He was smiling.