12
I dreamed about a ghost with bad taste in clothes, a box that was a house, and Dan in an orange jumpsuit. I think he was an FBI agent.
Oh yeah, and while it was on a roll, my drug-muddled subconscious tossed in a bit about a syringe as big as a banana. No surprise there.
The image was burned into my brain. So was the memory of Doctor Gerard leaning over me, grinning, as the needle pierced my skin. My head told me none of it was real, that it was all something I’d experienced hours (or was it days?) before. That didn’t keep the rest of me from reliving every terrifying moment. Or from feeling exactly like I had back there in Doctor Gerard’s office when that syringe penetrated my skin and the nasty, mind-numbing drug inside it coursed through my veins.
First, fire spread up and down my arm. Then it rushed into my chest and made my heart feel as if it were pumping lava. Every muscle in my body contracted. My head felt as if it was going to explode. My tongue swelled. My eyes flew open.
I’m pretty sure that was the point where I sat up and screamed.
It was also when I realized there was no one around to hear me.
I was alone in a nearly pitch-dark place, and with nothing else to go on, I relied on instinct and instinct alone. My instincts told me I wasn’t in my hotel room. It wasn’t my apartment, either, or any part of the Gerard Clinic I’d ever seen. For one confused minute, as I fought to make sense of my surroundings and couldn’t, panic washed over me. I hate to admit it, but for that one minute, I let it. Too tired to fight, too frightened to care, I gave in to the out-of-control sensations. My heartbeat raced and my breaths came in gasps and I curled up into a tight little ball on the mushy mattress where I found myself. I knew giving up and giving in like that was a sign of weakness, but honestly, I didn’t give a damn. I only knew that I felt like hell, I didn’t know where I was, and I was really, really scared.
Maybe I fell asleep. I can’t say. I only know that by the time I stopped crying and opened my eyes again, my head wasn’t pounding nearly as hard, and there were thin slices of gray morning sneaking in through the mini-blinds. In the anemic light, I saw that I was in a hospital room. There was a white, standard-issue dresser across from the bed where I lay in a snarl of sweat-clammy sheets. There was a metal chair to the left of the dresser. On the other side of it was a bigger, darker rectangle that I knew must be a doorway. The door was closed. Another door on the wall to my right was open, and from where I lay, I could see into a tiny bathroom.
None of it looked the least bit familiar.
“Not to worry.” The comforting words that scraped their way out of my parched throat didn’t do their job. When I untangled myself from the blankets, my hands shook, and when I swung my legs over the side of the bed, I knew I had to take my time. My knees were weak, my legs were shaking, but that didn’t stop me from standing. Or from collapsing right back on the bed.
“Not to worry,” I said again, because at that point, lying to myself sure beat facing the truth. “Snap out of it, Pepper. There’s nothing weird going on. There’s a logical explanation for all of this. Something went wrong when Doctor Gerard gave you that shot. Yeah, yeah, that’s what happened. Doctor Gerard called the paramedics. The way a nice, responsible, professional doctor would. They took you to a hospital. A nice, responsible, professional Chicago hospital. Like the one on ER.”
That made me feel better, and feeling better, I figured I’d ring for the nurse, find out what was going on, and hightail it out of there as fast as I could. I wasn’t made of money, and the health care benefits at Garden View left a lot to be desired. The sooner someone called a cab for me and I got back to my hotel, the happier I’d be.
Too bad I couldn’t find one of those nurse call buttons.
Or a phone, for that matter.
And though my purse was on the chair across from the bed, my cell phone wasn’t in it.
I grumbled my displeasure and decided on a more direct approach. I went to the door and turned the knob.
The door was locked.
This was not something I’d ever seen the nice, responsible, professional folks on ER do, but was I worried? Well, not too much. Just like there had to be a logical reason for me being in the hospital, there had to be a just-as-logical one for my door being locked. Maybe those nice paramedics who brought me there realized Doctor Gerard was acting weird. Maybe they locked the door to keep him away from me. Or maybe I had something contagious. I pushed up the sleeve of my peachy sweater and scratched my arm even though it didn’t itch. Determined to make sense of the whole thing, I found a light switch and flicked it on.
Light on, light off, it didn’t make a whole bunch of difference. The door was still locked, there still wasn’t a phone in sight, and damn, I still didn’t know where I was.
I grumbled my displeasure, considered my options, and chose the first one that came to mind. I cranked open the blinds.
I found myself looking over a sloping roofline and gingerbread woodwork where snow swirled and icicles hung from the gutters like dragon’s teeth. A couple stories down was a wide expanse of windswept land. The grass was frosty and the landscape was dotted with trees, their branches bare at this time of year and their limbs waving madly in the wind. Beyond that, the waters of what must have been Lake Michigan churned into white-caps and sent sprays of ice crystals into the air. There wasn’t another building in sight. Or another person, for that matter.
If this was Chicago, it was a rustic, desolate part of town that wasn’t on any tourist map.
“Yeah, a part of Chicago that doesn’t exist.”
My words were no more enthusiastic than my mood, and my mood went from merely terrible to truly awful, because the second I looked out the window I realized something else. I mean, something other than the fact that I wasn’t in Chicago anymore.
There were bars on the windows.
This, I told myself, could not be a good thing.
 
 
The next time I woke up, it was morning, though I couldn’t say if it was the same morning or the next. The sun (at least what I could see of it from behind the bank of heavy clouds that hung close to the roiling lake outside my window) was higher in the sky than it had been last I looked. And I was as hungry as if I hadn’t eaten in days.
“Hey!” I went to the door and pounded on it. “Anybody out there? I could use some breakfast in here.”
I didn’t get an answer. Not right away, anyway. I was all set to start pounding again when a buzzer sounded somewhere in the distance and my door popped open.
“Well, it’s about time.” I stepped into a long, bare hallway with a green tile floor, one of those fake panel ceilings, and walls that were painted institutional beige. I am no decorator (I mean, that’s what those of us who can afford it—or at least those of us who used to be able to afford it—pay professionals for, right?), but even I knew that with the added pizzazz of some paintings, maybe a wall hanging or two, and the right upholstery on the furniture, the color combination might have worked. The way it was, there were no pictures on the walls at all. There was no furniture around, either. In fact, there was nothing to relieve the starkness of the hallway except a utilitarian metal desk all the way at the far end. Behind the desk was a burly guy with short-cropped hair and a neck as big as a linebacker’s. He was wearing white scrubs and a solemn expression that clearly said he had better things to do than be bothered by me.
Like I was going to let that stop me?
My legs were still wobbly, but step by careful step, I closed in on him.
“What’s the deal?” I asked. “Where am I? And what’s going on? And while you’re explaining all that, you can tell me where breakfast is, too. And the day spa. There is a day spa, isn’t there?” I didn’t think there was, but a girl can hope, right? Besides, I thought maybe the request would get a rise out of him.
I was wrong. His name tag said he was Henry. Which is more than Henry himself had to say. He hardly spared me a glance before he went back to looking over the medical chart in his hands.
“Hey! Earth to Henry!” I rapped on the desk to get his attention. “I asked what was going on here. And where’s Doctor Gerard, anyway? The last time I saw him—”
“Thaddeus will take you down to breakfast.” Henry delivered this news just as the doors to the elevator to the right of the desk swished open. Another white-clad guy stepped out. Aside from the fact that his name tag was different, Thaddeus could have been Henry’s twin. He was just as big, just as burly, and he was wearing scrubs, too. He didn’t greet me; he just stepped back into the elevator and stood aside. I knew an invitation when I saw one. I also knew that refusing was not an option.
Soon the elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid open. Thaddeus motioned me to get out, but he didn’t follow. I found myself in another hallway with another metal desk at the end of it. The guy behind it was named Adam, and he didn’t smile when he stepped up at my side.
Together, we walked down a corridor as long and as bare as the one outside my room, crossed what would have looked like a lobby if the windows weren’t covered and the door wasn’t barred, and headed down another corridor identical to the one we’d just come out of. The only difference was that in this one, I could smell the heavenly scent of bacon.
Oh, it should have, but not even the thought of those covered windows and that barred door was enough to ruin my appetite. That’s how hungry I was.
I stepped up the pace and followed my nose to a room on my left. The place was as big as a gymnasium, and like a gymnasium, there were no windows in it. There was one long wooden table set up in the middle of the room and ten chairs placed around it.
I did a quick count. There were only four people seated there, an empty chair between each. Without a word to any of them, Adam showed me to my place and disappeared into an open doorway across the room. I hoped it was to get me breakfast. Wherever he went, I had a funny feeling he wouldn’t be gone long. I had to get down to business. And fast.
“Hi. I’m Pepper.” I slid into the empty chair to my left, next to a stick-thin woman with stringy blond hair and dark, dark roots, and when nobody bothered to greet me—or even look at me for that matter—I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I beat my brain for some idea to get their attention and was surprised (not to mention grateful) when a memory bubbled up from beneath the ocean of drugs that had been pumped into my veins.
“Oscar Zmeskis,” I said, and waited for one of the people at the table to show some kind of reaction. “Are any of you Oscar Zmeskis?”
When no one responded, I struggled to remember the rest of the names Sister Maggie had given me. “Becka Chance?”
Hopeful, I looked at the woman next to me, who was wearing a hospital gown that hung from her scrawny shoulders. She, however, was busy staring into a bowl of oatmeal that looked as if it had gone cold long ago. “Are you Becka Chance? Or maybe Athalea Misborough? I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally see somebody. What’s the deal here? How long have you been here? What day is it? Where’s the phone?”
The woman continued to stare into her oatmeal.
I checked to make sure Adam was still busy before I changed seats again. This time, I found myself next to a middle-aged guy with open sores on his arms. He was drooling. I made it quick. “Alan Grankowski? Leon Harris? Lony Billberger?” I tried the names out on him, and when he didn’t flinch, I moved to the other side of the table.
My third candidate was sound asleep, so I opted for breakfast guest number four, who was a thirtyish African American guy with bad teeth and a maroon cardigan over his hospital gown. He just so happened to be talking to his pancakes when I showed up. In my book, that was a good sign. At least he was talking.
“So, what’s going on here?” I asked him. I looked over my shoulder. Still no sign of Adam, though I could hear the rumble of his voice and the clank of dishes as he loaded a tray that I prayed was mine. “Why are we here? And where is here, anyway? Who are all these people? What do they want from us?”
He looked up from his pancakes. “I’m one of the lucky ones. I see people who aren’t there.”
“Yeah, me too.” I heard Adam thank someone for helping him. His voice sounded closer. I didn’t have much time. “When did you get here? What’s your name? And how do we get out? I mean, all the doors are locked, and the windows are barred and—”
Adam appeared in the doorway, but lucky for me, he was in the process of saying something to someone back in the kitchen, and he was looking over his shoulder. By the time he finished up and arrived with my breakfast, I was waiting in my original seat.
Adam, it seemed, was not as dumb as his WrestleMania physique made him look. He eyed my breakfast companions carefully, and it wasn’t until he’d satisfied himself that they looked just as spaced out now as they had when he went into the kitchen that he set a plate of food down in front of me.
The bacon was too greasy, and I am always careful about how many fat grams I consume.
The eggs were too runny, and I got the willies just looking at them.
The toast was rye, and I much prefer wheat.
I dug in practically before the plate was on the table.
“Doctor Gerard wants to see you after breakfast,” Adam said.
“Great.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the bacon I wolfed down or about finally having the chance to confront the doctor. “’Cause I want to talk to him, too.” I swallowed down a plastic forkful of scrambled eggs and talked with my mouth full. “And another thing—”
Another fork filled with eggs was halfway to my mouth when something just outside the door of the dining hall caught my eye.
I was out of my chair practically before Adam could say, “Hey, you’re not allowed to get up,” and out the door long before Mr. Muscle-Bound had a chance to stop me.
The way I figured it, that gave me a couple seconds to talk to Ernie before Adam caught up.
I ignored the big bruiser escorting him and plucked Ernie’s sleeve. When he stopped and turned to me, his eyes were glassy and his expression was blank. Just like the expressions on the faces of the people back in the dining hall.
My stomach went cold.
“Ernie, it’s me, Pepper. You remember, from the alley next to the clinic.” The big guy accompanying Ernie put a hand on his left arm. I held on tighter to his right. “I came to find you. Are you all right? How long have you been here? You didn’t tell Doctor Gerard you can see ghosts, did you, Ernie? I’m sorry I ever mentioned that to you. I should have known you’d use it to get into the study. Please, tell me this isn’t my fault, that you didn’t—”
“Gettin’ three squares a day. And a nice, warm bed.” Ernie grinned, and for just a second, his eyes brightened with recognition. “Did you bring Alberta?”
I remembered the photograph I’d left in the box in the alley. “She’s back at home, Ernie. She’s waiting for you. She says you need to get back to her and—”
Turns out that for a big guy, Adam was pretty quick on his feet. He lumbered out into the hallway and latched onto my arm.
Like that was enough to make me let go.
“You’re going to see her again,” I told Ernie even as his attendant tugged him away. “I promise you that, Ernie. You’re going to see Alberta again.”
“There’s no fraternizing.” Adam’s grip tightened enough to make me wince. He yanked me away from Ernie, and helpless, I watched the other guy lead Ernie away.
“Doctor Gerard is not going to be happy when he hears about this,” Adam said.
“Great. Fine.” It wasn’t easy shaking off his grip, but somehow, I managed. Maybe that’s because Adam wasn’t used to the folks around there fighting back. At the same time I backed out of his reach, I glared at him. “Let’s go see Doctor Gerard, why don’t we? Because I’ll tell you what, I’m plenty anxious to talk to him. I’ll bet my attorney will be, too. You know, the guy who’s going to file the couple dozen lawsuits that are going to put this place out of business.”
Did Adam take me seriously? Darned if I know. But my comment did make him snap to. He motioned me to get moving, and maybe he did believe the line of attorney bullshit, because he was really careful to keep his distance. Side by side, we walked back the way we’d come, through the locked-down lobby and back into the wing of the building where I’d woken up that morning.
A few minutes later, I found myself outside a closed office door.
“Doctor Gerard?” Adam tapped on the door politely. “Patient JK6345 is here.”
The door snapped open, and once again, I found myself face-to-face with Hilton Gerard. I had planned on playing it cool, tossing around that attorney threat again in that oh-so-unconcerned-because-I-know-I’ve-got-you-by-the-balls tone of voice I’d learned at my parents’ knees. I might have succeeded, too, if my arm didn’t ache from where Adam grabbed me. And if I didn’t remember that spacey, stripped-of-all-humanity look on Ernie’s face.
I popped off like a science fair rocket.
“You son of a bitch!” I pushed past the doctor and into his office so I had more room to stare him down. “What are you doing to the people here? Why are they so out of it? And while we’re on the subject, what happens to them after you’re done with them, huh? You can’t just scoop people up and think that nobody’s ever going to miss them, and—”
My own words sunk in and cut me off short.
“Of course you can scoop them up and nobody misses them.” Astounded and appalled, I grappled with the idea. “They’re homeless. Nobody’s going to look for them. That’s why you started that clinic of yours in the first place. You aren’t a great humanitarian, you’re a son of a—”
“Yes, yes. You said that before.” Hilton Gerard’s smile was as gracious as if we were trading quips over canapés. “And may I remind you, you also were kind enough to share with me that you’re not from this area, that your father is currently and unfortunately incarcerated, and that your dear mother is somewhere in Florida. My, my, but to me, it sounds like—”
“Nobody’s going to be looking for me anytime soon, either.” My insides froze. The next second, the ice melted under a healthy dose of anger. “That’s not true. Plenty of people know I’m here. There’s Doris and Grant from the conference. And my boss, Ella. She’s the one who sent me here in the first place. And Quinn, he knew I was coming to Chicago, too, and just for the record, he’s one tough cop. He’ll be plenty interested in hearing about those folks in the dining hall. You’ve got them drugged, don’t you? Every single one of them.”
“Of course they’re drugged.” Doctor Gerard sneered. “They are mentally ill, after all. They need their medications.”
“And you need them to be compliant. Why?”
“Pepper, Pepper, Pepper...” The doctor signaled Adam to leave and close the door behind him, and after it clicked shut, he got down to business. “You know what I’m looking for, don’t you?”
There didn’t seem to be much point in denying it. “Ghosts. You’re looking for someone who can contact the Other Side. Why?”
His shrug said it all. “Why not? Let’s face it, if I can prove there is life after death, well, it would be the most incredible scientific breakthrough of this century. Or any century for that matter.”
“You want to go down in history?”
He laughed. “You are a shallow thing, aren’t you? I’m not looking to see my name in lights, not for finally being the one who can put the living in touch with the dead. But think about it, Pepper. If I did that, think about all the great things I could accomplish.”
I tried. And couldn’t think of one. “In my experience, the only thing dealing with the dead gets you is trouble.”
“Maybe because you haven’t been dealing with the right dead. Or not in the right way. What if . . .” He tipped his head back, thinking. “What if we could make contact with the spirit that was William Shakespeare? If he could give us the words of his next drama?”
“Not a good idea.” I knew this for certain because I’d already dealt with a sorcerer who was channeling a rock star’s songs. I remembered all too clearly that the last time I saw him, he had a knife sticking out of his chest. “Things like that never end pretty.”
“All right, what about the ghost of Albert Einstein, then? Think of what he could tell us. Or the spirit of some unsung hero of a doctor who died just before he had a chance to complete a study that would have cured cancer? Don’t we owe it to the world to be open to the possibilities?”
“And you think I can help you?”
“Dan does.”
“Dan doesn’t—” It was hard to get the words past the sudden sour taste in my mouth. Something told me it had nothing to do with the scrambled eggs. “Dan would never be all right with what you’re doing to those people in the dining hall.”
“You think so?” Doctor Gerard looked at me hard, but he didn’t wait for me to answer. He got up and went across the room, and when he rummaged around in a file cabinet over there, he turned his back on me.
I saw my chance and made a move toward the phone on his desk.
“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.” When he turned back around, the doctor was holding another big, honkin’ syringe. “You have to have the PIN code to get an outside line,” he said.
“I’ll bet.” I backed up toward the door and watched him close in on me with that syringe in his hands. “Look . . .” I ran my parched tongue over my dry lips. “If you’re looking to contact the dead and do all those great things you talked about doing, I really might be able to help you.”
“I know that.”
“Then you really wouldn’t want to—” My butt slammed against the door knob. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to me. I mean, if I’m your best bet, you want me to cooperate, right?”
“Oh, you’ll cooperate.” Doctor Gerard closed in on me.
“But I can tell you stuff.” I watched both the doctor and the syringe get closer. “I can tell you about Gus, the first ghost I met. And Didi. I helped her get recognition for a book she wrote fifty years ago. And—” He was right in front of me now, close enough for me to see the flare of his nostrils. “I can’t do that if I’m drugged.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Doctor Gerard backed off, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Right before I yelped when he lunged at me and stuck that needle in my arm.
“But you see, Pepper . . .” When my knees gave out, he was there to catch me. “It’s not the stories of how you work with the dead that I’m interested in. It’s duplicating your Gift. And I can’t do that . . .” He dropped me into the closest chair. “Not until I get inside your brain.”

Night of the Loving Dead
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