A. Renee Art

The next morning, Merc and Lydia returned from the next town to get food for that day. After breakfast, the six of them left to explore the town hospital. The windows were boarded up and the front doors were chained when they arrived, but the lock holding them was cut open, and not cleanly. It was as though someone used a hacking motion and succeeded after several tries. Then, when they were done looting, they had the common decency, if one could call it that, to place the lock back, perhaps as a deterrent.

With a set of walkie-talkies, they split into two even groups. Lydia and the boys went upstairs, while Janet, Maddie, and Caylix explored the first floor.

The first thing Janet and the girls came upon was the logbook at the front desk. Trisha Roberts was confirmed as a patient. So was Scott Brooks. Dorothy and Charles were confirmed visitors, along with Father Matthew Brooks.

“Brooks visited Trisha three times,” Janet noted. “Unusual.”

“Special counseling after her mother’s death,” Caylix figured.

“Maybe. Hopefully. Let’s look around.”

Behind the desk were scattered papers and files, a few boxes of books, and yellow sticky notes from doctors, nurses, and other staff. Tasks and orders meant to be carried out still waiting to be completed but never will be. In one of the drawers, Caylix already scored big by finding a key-card belonging to Dr. Henry Johnson among a pile of other similar cards, his with a regular key attached to it. Janet took it saying they could get into his office eventually.

“The power seems to be working here,” she added.

“How is that possible,” Caylix asked. “We had lights at the inn, the church, and the manor, but none in Dorothy’s cottage.”

“Hospitals run on generators in an emergency. With the power shut in much of the town, it’s probably still running on that. The fuel from gasoline keeps it running. Can’t explain the other places, though.”

Caylix nodded as she continued looking. Janet found a space occupancy sheet with Trisha Roberts’ room number—203. She relayed the information to Lydia upstairs.

“203. Alright. We’ll check it out. Over.”

“Wanda Tyler’s room is on this level, so Maddie, Caylix, we’ll check out room 102.”

“Got it,” Caylix said. Maddie found an old pendant from 1964 on it. After finding nothing else, they headed for 102, which left them empty-handed, but heading around the corner, they were lead to the nurses’ station, which looked similar in state to the front desk. Searching first led to a medical records room key, found by Janet.

Maddie checked out the bulletin board. There was a missing child’s poster along with flyers and brochures for Scott Brooks’s handyman services, The Moon Café and Oliver Gibson’s photo lab. Near the end was a curious post that was not like the others at all. An article about the possible existence of ghosts. Maddie took the article down, folded it, and put it in her pocket. Janet happened to look over and saw a map of the hospital.

“Oh, we could use this,” she said, taking it.

Caylix found a box on the floor next to one of the turned-over chairs. Inside was a house key labeled “Wanda Tyler” labeled with her address and a diary underneath.

In the diary, Wanda wrote about her difficulties with her cancer battle and how her son Derrick visited her often. He would read her Jane Austen novels and tend to her needs at night while the nurses were busy with other patients. He was also Charles Roberts’ chauffeur during this time and so no doubt had a lot of things on his mind.

Some pages were mysteriously torn out. It was the first time the investigators had seen something like that in a journal.

Next, in her final entry in December of ’95, she knows she is dying but tries not to worry her son. She seems to have regrets about not doing more for him.

“What does that mean,” Maddie wonders.

“Probably a mom’s regret about dying and leaving her 20-something-year-old son behind,” Janet answered. “What’s strange is that Derrick never picked it up after her death.”

Upstairs, Lydia and the boys were making the rounds in every room they could go into. Connor found a couple of letters from two girls about a time capsule they planned to bury in the cemetery.

“Who’s up for a treasure hunt,” he asked Lydia and Merc.

In another room, Lydia found, not so much a letter, since it was addressed to no one, but a page of reflection from an old dying man.

They found Trisha’s former hospital room locked. The physical therapy room was still filled with its old equipment, and the roof, which they were able to access gave them nothing. Feeling defeated, they returned downstairs to meet up with the others.

Janet and the girls were in the medical records room next. Janet rummaged through the files while Maddie and Caylix searched the rest of the room.

With Wanda Tyler’s name fresh on her mind, Janet looked her up first. She was indeed fighting cancer, but there was a red flag—Dr. Henry Johnson, the man who was (killed by someone first before being) found submerged under Cherry Creek Lake. She then thought to look up other notable people’s records for confirmation. She was not disappointed.

Andrew Reed’s doctor was indeed Dr. Johnson. Reed had been brought in for alcohol dependence and mental or emotional illness. Under the heading marked “Optional Elaboration”, additional notes were made describing his condition, which were “Hallucinations brought about by trauma.”

Partially marked out. Why? What trauma?

Vivian Roberts was last admitted to the hospital in the 1970s when she gave birth to Trisha and then had her breakdown. A separate obstetrician tended to her for the birth, but Henry Johnson was her primary doctor. He was also the main physician for Charles Roberts, though Charles was never admitted for anything.

Bernard Hopkins received a prescription for his migraines—from Dr. Johnson.

She searched for other names—Sofia Miller, Dorothy Patterson, Mary Martinez, Scott Brooks, and Trisha Roberts.

Trisha was admitted and placed in Dr. Johnson’s care for her breakdowns. Scott Brooks was tended to by another doctor during his stay. Dorothy received medical checkups from Dr. Johnson as well, but nothing serious. Mary Martinez had a different doctor altogether.

Strangely of all, Sofia Miller was not found in the records.

After the girls found nothing, Janet relayed to them what she discovered. Afterwards, searching the cafeteria. Lydia called to tell them that they were done and were heading back down. After searching a few more rooms, some of them locked, they met Lydia and the boys downstairs and were approaching Dr. Johnson’s office.

The power had suddenly gone out, however. Caylix screamed and ran away towards the front door, her brother and his camera behind her. Lydia ran as well, wanting to check on her. Merc turned on his flashlight and pointed it down the hallway that suddenly became dark. Maddie stood frozen in place looking the same way. Meanwhile, Janet just gathered enough courage to try to use the key-card on Dr. Johnson’s office door.

It didn’t work.

“Yeah, it’s the power,” she said. She took a few breaths then said to them, “We’re done here for now. Come on!”

Merc, shaking a little, but trying to hide it managed an “Hmm hmm” before following them. The three of them quickly walked out.

Caylix had finally managed to calm down with everyone gathered. They decided to return to the inn for another debriefing. Janet noted, however, that they would have to come back later. Caylix softly wailed and her brother tried to calm her this time.

As they walked away, Lydia took one last look at the hospital. On the roof she got a good look at one of the chimneys, only that it wasn’t a chimney. What she saw appeared to be dark with the shape of a person—someone wearing dark clothes, a hoodie? Looking around, she saw no one else, but when she looked back at the roof, the person was gone.

Lydia ran after the others. She thought if she should say something to the others but decided not to. If she said that she saw someone on the roof, Janet would make everyone leave. Janet would also have to leave without closure for her story. So no, best not tell anyone about the guy in the hoodie on the hospital roof—at least not yet.