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Tessa scanned the rec room for an ally. Other than the one they called Dizmo, a thirty-something-year-old with dissociative identity disorder—and only some of his personalities liked Tessa—she didn’t really have any allies. Most of the children liked her, and she still visited their play area from time to time. But ever since she turned seventeen and had already proven she was no longer a danger to others, she’d been allowed free range in the hospital’s community areas. The adult rec area quickly became her favorite spot, where she could whittle away time by completing a sudoku without getting caught up in a game of tag. She still slept in Ward C, the kids’ ward, as the hospital had a policy—or maybe were required by law—to separate those eighteen and older from the rest. Tessa assumed it had something to do with sex. Different wards were probably a smart idea, not that she had any interest in the drippy-drooling men she’d seen there. But as far as she could tell, the adults were just down a different hallway, with no discernable barrier or security between them.
In any event, while the adults were kind to her or else paid her little attention, none were her friends. She’d only really ever had one friend, Michael, but he was on the outside. He could do nothing for her, not even with a cop for a foster mom.
Looking at all her fellow crazies, dressed in all white and gray cotton tees and sweatpants without drawstrings, Tessa felt more like she was part of a cult than a patient in a hospital. A hospital for loonies, she qualified, never missing a chance to tear herself down.
She grabbed a crossword puzzle book and a black crayon then took a seat at a plastic table. Opening the book, she stared at a very detailed drawing of a penis. She had to flip through several pages before the notorious penis artist had apparently gotten bored and left her a clean puzzle to work on.
As she considered a seven-letter word for nervousness, the hairs on her neck began to tingle. The room seemed quieter, the only sound Manny’s spastic moaning. Raising her gaze without lifting her head, Tessa took a closer look at the morning crowd. In addition to Dizmo and the much older Manny, who only spoke Portuguese when his strange ailment allowed him to speak at all, the usual patients were in their routines—baby boomers Jordan and Harriet were playing chess, chins resting on hands as they focused on their board; Monica was scribbling furiously in her sketch pad, her long bangs always hiding her eyes but exposing a thick scar running along the side of her head; Dirty Terry was reading a sleazy romance novel, his hand rubbing the front of his pants; and the bridge club, all of whom seemed entirely normal, was, of course, playing bridge. Other patients were doing those heartbreaking little things—the rocking, the staring blankly, the muttering to themselves—that helped fill the hours of their days and reminded Tessa of where she spent hers.
But Link’s eyes were on Tessa as he leaned against the wall in the corner, presiding over his subjects. She heaved in a sharp breath and averted her gaze from the orderly’s, tapping the crayon against the side of her head as if in deep thought.
Actually named Jeb, Link was six feet seven or thereabouts with a skull that seemed too big to be human. That, together with the ridge of bone protruding under his eyebrows, his prominent cheekbones, and his right-angled jawline had earned him the nickname “Missing Link,” or “Link” for short. In her peripheral, Tessa saw him watching her with beady eyes set deep in his orbital sockets. Catching her looking back, he smiled as if to say, “Yeah, I see you.”
She refocused her attention on the page in front of her, her hand jerking and marking a black line across the clues. Taking a deep breath, she kicked off her slipper then bent over to put it back on. While leaning over, she checked the rec room for other staff but saw none and no one looking her way except... Her breath hitched as her gaze landed on another freakazoid, a fellow patient who the other kids called the Bandage Man. Despite their usually creative imaginations, the psych ward children failed to offer the man anything more than a descriptive nickname. Gauze and medical tape chaotically wrapped most of his head, with tufts of gray hair sticking out at the top and at his chin. His eyes, almost feline in shape and shadowed by eaves from the tape, peered out with seemingly vicious intent. A narrow slit over his mouth allowed him to breathe.
Tessa had heard at least half a dozen reasons for those bandages, most of which entailed fire and severe burns, but the most outlandish of them rumored that he’d carved his own face off. He never spoke and always scowled, but his deep brown eyes revealed a sinister mind at work. A mind that, at that moment, had turned toward her.
“How are you this morning, honey?”
Tessa jolted upright, whacking her head against the table. She rubbed it even though it didn’t hurt as she looked up into the watchful eyes of Nurse Francine, which were circled with so much black eyeliner and shadow that she resembled a raccoon.
The nurse grinned. “Were you able to get some sleep after all?”
Tessa hesitated, searching for the right response, then nodded.
“That’s good. Good.” Francine smiled wider. “If you continue to have trouble sleeping, I can talk to your doctor and see if we can’t get you some pills that’ll help.” She threw a thumb over her shoulder at Link, who was leering at them. “I’m sure good ol’ Jeb there would be happy to bring it to you tonight. Would you like that?”
“N-no.” Tessa fidgeted with her crayon. “No, thank you. I’m sleeping okay now.”
“Good. Good, dear.” Francine leaned closer so that her mouth was only inches from Tessa’s cheek. Her breath reeked of eggs and her skin smelled of too much lotion or perfume. The overpowering lilac scent reminded Tessa of home, a place she would happily never return to. It smelled like the potpourri Father used to keep in the bathroom and something else, like disinfectant, maybe ammonia.
“I know you were worried about Mitchell last night. Well, I just saw him playing with the other children, looking happy as a clam.” The nurse straightened, crossed her arms, and chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll be hearing him screaming again tonight.”
Tessa didn’t know how to respond to that, so she kept her mouth shut. A wicked gleam twinkled in the nurse’s eyes that made Tessa want to run and hide. She thought she’d been locked away from the horrors of the real world, but she didn’t feel safe there anymore. The people coming in from the outside would always be dragging their dirt in with them.
“Well,” Francine began with an exaggerated sigh. “I have to get going—you know, places to go and people to see. But remember what I said. If you need anything, Jeb and I are happy to help. We’re always around, and we’re always happy to lend a hand where needed.”
She turned on her heel then sashayed toward the double doors leading into the hall when a redheaded, freckle-faced teen about Tessa’s age entered. Francine stopped mid-stride to avoid colliding with him. He smiled and held the door open for her. She nodded curtly, smoothed out her uniform, then walked out without a second glance.
The boy stood just inside the door, sizing up the rec room just as Tessa had. A tingling in her lizard brain told her she should know him, but she didn’t. His gaze swept the room, eventually landing on her. Apparently taking her stare as an invitation, he offered her a warm smile before approaching.
Her heart pumping just a little faster, Tessa slid out of her chair as he came within a few feet. The boy slowed his approach, his smile shrinking. He took another step forward, and Tessa stepped back. He stopped and extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Jimmy.”
Tessa hugged herself tightly and flinched away from his touch. The boy lowered his hand and frowned.
“Jimmy!” Tessa blurted, her eyes exploding open with sudden realization.
The boy’s frown grew with the wrinkles in his forehead. “Your name’s Jimmy too?”
She let out her breath then giggled. He must have thought her one of the gibbering crazies. “No-no, I’m Tessa.” She smiled and looked away, her cheeks flushing with warmth. “We have a mutual friend. Michael told me all about you. In fact, he says he wants to visit you.”
“Really?” Jimmy scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly, his dimples childlike and endearing. “Well, I guess it’s good someone out there still cares, but he’s sorta the reason I’m in this place.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Oh.”
“Though it beats the hell out of prison, I guess.” He tapped his foot and huffed. “Well, then I guess there’s no use in pretending I’m not as nuts as everyone else in here.” He chuckled, apparently realizing his gaffe, then sighed and studied the floor. “Sorry.”
Tessa laughed. “No offense taken.” She took her seat, and he flipped another around and straddled it, resting his arms over the back. “Forgive me if I don’t shake hands. I... I don’t like to be touched.”
“No worries.” Jimmy’s dimples returned. Just looking at them somehow made her feel a little less anxious. But she swallowed hard as she glanced at Link. He glowered at the two of them as if he hated them just for the sake of hating.
“So,” Jimmy scratched his head again and blushed. “What exactly has our good friend Mikey told you about me?”
“He told me all about what Glenn Rodrigues did to you both. I was still in school when you shot him, so I already knew about that. Seems to me like he got what he deserved.” She rested her fidgeting hands in her lap. “Other than that, not much else, really. Just that you were in here now, too, and he said you might be someone I could turn to if I ever needed a friend.”
“Really?” Jimmy sat up straight. “Michael said that?” His body shook as he laughed. “That’s really cool of him after all that happened. Did he tell you anything about the Suarez gang or his kidnapping—”
Tessa shot up from her seat. “Michael was kidnapped?”
Jimmy threw his palms out. “Woah! He’s fine. Don’t worry. He’s back, safe at home. For a little while now.”
Tessa slowly sat back in her chair, confused why Michael would have kept that from her, why, after all they’d been through together, he would feel the need to keep anything from her. “I guess I haven’t talked to him in a while,” she said, barely audible. She thought back to the last time she had seen him, when she’d tried to tell him about the screams she heard at night. Jimmy had come up then. “Oh crap.”
Jimmy’s dimples vanished. “What’s wrong?”
“I just remember I told Michael that you didn’t want to see him.”
Jimmy’s entire face seemed to scrunch, freckles closing in on his nose from all directions. “Why would you do that?”
Tessa studied her book, ashamed. “I don’t know. I guess I was upset. We don’t get to spend a lot of time together, and I was trying to tell him something important, that I was scared. All he wanted to talk about was Jimmy this and Jimmy that, and—no offense—I couldn’t have given two shits about you at the time. I wanted him to shut up and listen. Urgh. Michael can be so oblivious sometimes.” She looked up at him, pressing her lips together tightly. “I’m sorry. It was dumb. I’ll explain it to him the next time I see him.”
“All right.” Jimmy frowned, then sighed. “I kinda owe him and would love to see him. He and that detective helped me out a lot, especially since I didn’t deserve it. Got me in here when I could have been looking at real time, maybe even tried as an adult. Mikey’s a good guy. That detective isn’t so bad either.”
“Detective Reilly.” Tessa snickered. “Yeah, she’s all right, I guess.” She met his stare for a second then looked away, the conversation falling into awkward silence.
He shrugged. “Well, I’d ask you what you’re in for, but somehow that doesn’t seem polite. Instead, I’ll ask what there is to do for fun around here. The doctors have just declared me fit to join the general population. I’m no longer likely to stab anyone with those dull, curved-ended scissors or snort jelly up my nostrils or whatever else they were afraid I might do in here.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, up for a riveting game of Yahtzee? I think I saw Monopoly on the shelf over there too. But if we play that, I get to be the car.”
Tessa glanced again at Link, who was still staring their way. She faced forward, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples. “You might have been better off where you were.”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned forward over the table, her face less than two feet from his. “Is it true what Michael said? Can I trust you? Are you a friend in here?”
Jimmy shrugged and showed off his smile. “Look around. I don’t see anyone else our age in here. I think that makes us friends by default.”
Tessa pouted. “But you don’t even know me.”
Jimmy’s shoulders drooped. “I’ve done some pretty awful things. Whatever you’ve done, I’m no one to judge.”
“I killed my stepfather.”
Jimmy started. “I’m... sorry?”
Tessa smirked. “Don’t be. He was a real asshole.” Her mirth was fleeting, drying up like a mirage in the desert. “A bully, like Glenn Rodrigues.” She tapped her crayon on the crossword puzzle book.
“Anyway, it’s not that.” She sighed and spent a moment trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say. “You’re not going to believe me. You’ll just think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.” His words said one thing, but his narrowing eyes and pursed lips suggested he had his doubts at the ready.
She picked at her fingernail, wondering how best to start. “Don’t look, but do you see the orderly to my right with the giant head?”
“Woah.” Jimmy rocked backward. “That is a big head.”
“I told you not to look.”
“Right. Sorry.” Jimmy scooted his chair closer. Tessa winced as the back of it clacked against the table. He rested his forearms on the table edge. “Anyway, what about him?”
“Is he still staring at us?”
Jimmy started to turn his head.
“Don’t look!” she said in a loud whisper.
“Then how am I supposed to know if he’s staring at us?”
“Well, look, but, you know... do it discreetly.”
Jimmy pretended to stretch his neck, first left then right. “Yep. Staring right at us. You want me to say something—”
“No.” Tessa reached across the table, grabbing his fingers before she knew what she was doing. They both stared at her hand around his. Embarrassed, she yanked it back. “Sorry, just... I’ll explain. Now, how about the guy to your right, the one with the bandages covering his face. Is he staring too?”
Jimmy stood up, turned to his right, then walked straight up to the Bandage Man. Tessa nearly shrieked, biting on her knuckle to block it. She wanted to scream at Jimmy to stop. Her mind raced as she thought of all the horrors she might have just exposed him to, her wildest imaginations as vivid as if they were reality.
But Jimmy passed the man and headed for a bookshelf, which he pretended to peruse before grabbing a copy of what looked like Time or People. He headed back to the table with the magazine rolled up in his hand.
Sitting down, he said, “Yep, he’s staring too. And he looks mean as hell. Kinda gives me the creeps.” He wrapped his knuckles against the table. “Okay. Anyone else in here I should watch out for?”
“Well, those two are the worst, but I don’t really trust any of them.” Tessa gave him the rundown of all the Ward C regulars, staff and patients alike.
Jimmy listened as she spoke, guffawing a little too loudly when she explained why they called him “Dirty Terry.” He folded his fingers in front of him and lowered his voice. “You ready to tell me what this is all about?”
“Are you in Ward C?”
“As of tonight, I am.” Grinning, Jimmy almost looked proud. He must’ve been in Ward D, where they kept the dangerous and often violent patients. Ward C was for the still-crazy-just-not-violently-crazy residents.
“Sometimes at night, I hear screaming. Kids are taken from their rooms, maybe adults from the other hall too. I know because they pass by my room. I don’t know where they take them, but sometimes they don’t come back.”
Jimmy frowned. “We are in a mental hospital. Kids screaming at night has gotta be common.”
Tessa felt heat rise up her neck. “Don’t you think I know that?” She looked away, hoping she hadn’t drawn more eyes upon them.
Jimmy’s eyebrows pinched together and a slimy, flat worm of a smirk slithered on his mouth. “What are you thinking? That some mad scientist is performing experiments on people here like they do in the movies?”
“I don’t know.” Tessa’s lips quivered. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I’m scared. Last night, I peeked outside my door as I heard them dragging someone down the hall—a kid I think, one of the younger ones—until his screams were cut off. I didn’t see who it was, but Nurse Francine—that’s the one you almost bumped into when you came in—spotted me at the door. She was acting really weird and talking funny. Today, too, and she’s usually really nice. I mean, she’s still being really nice, but it sounds... fake, I guess.
“Anyway, she said it was Mitchell, who’s like eight or nine, who was screaming. I’m worried about him, and I’m worried about me. Link and the Bandage Man—that’s what the kids call them—haven’t taken their eyes off me since I came in here.”
Jimmy leaned back, folding his hands behind his head as if he were completely relaxed and totally unimpressed. “Seems easy enough to check. We can just go talk to Mitchell and see if he’s all right.” He shook his head. “Except I’m not supposed to be talking to those kids, I don’t think.”
“I can. I’ve been in with them for a long time, so they all know me. Francine says Mitchell is happy and playing, but I don’t know.” She pressed her index finger into the table. “You don’t think it’s weird that people are being taken from their rooms at night? The ones that don’t come back—are they being discharged at, like, two in the morning?”
“Okay. I see your point. But if something funny really is going on, I think our best bet might be to stay as far away from it as possible.”
Tessa’s eyes blurred as she drew a long breath. “That’s just it. I think I’m already deep in it. I saw them doing something I wasn’t supposed to see, or at least they think I saw them. I’m afraid that tonight or some night soon, I’m the one they’re gonna drag out of bed, and no one will ever see me again. It’s not like anyone would even miss me.”
“That’s...” Jimmy chuckled and shook his head slowly. He let out a long sigh. “How the heck do I get myself into these messes? I just walked over to say hi to a pretty girl, and—”
Tessa’s lip quivered again. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. If you’re really in trouble, then you can count on me to help. All these people with power over us coming after one girl? That sounds like bullying to me, and as you’ve already noticed, I really don’t like bullies.” He leaned across the table, sliding his hand toward her folded arms. She didn’t flinch or pull away at his touch.
“So?” He looked her straight in the eye. “What can I do to help?”
Tessa ran her fingers through her hair and averted her gaze. “Where’s your room?”