Virtual American Gothic - Third Season Episode Fourteen Shine That Ever-Lovin Light Part One of Two By Roguewriter NOT TO BE ARCHIVED TO A WEB PAGE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S PRIOR CONSENT. Special Guest Stars: John Shearin as Waylon Flood Paul Williams as Mr. Drabble Richard Schiff as Dr. Edmond ********************************************** PROLOGUE In the dream, Benjie Healy is four, and once more he's lost in the big department store in the Ascension Shopping Gallery. "But I'm not lost," he thinks, somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. "Daddy found me." The thought does no good, and the dream continues to unfold around him. He's pushing his way through men's coats, looking for Mama and Daddy. He's not panicking yet. He's been smelling the coats, enjoying the new smell, and humming along with the department store Muzak, not really aware that he recognizes it as an old Carpenters tune, one he sometimes hears Mama singing in the morning when he wakes. "Mama's not around to sing for me anymore," he thinks, trying to reason with the dream. No luck. And now he's beginning to realize he's lost them, they've lost him, he's LOST, and he feels the first wave of panic welling up in him, and he forgets all about the good smell of the coats on their circular racks, this forest of suitcoats and sportcoats and overcoats, and he's stopped humming because... Because the music has changed. No more Carpenters. Instead, a different tune, another one he recognizes, but one more to Daddy's liking than Mama's. "Ain't no food upon the table," the singer is barking, "And no pork up in the pan/But you better not complain, boy/You get in trouble with the man..." "The man," Benjie thinks. "THE MAN." He's whimpering now, really afraid, lost in the throes of this known and unknown nightmare... this strange re-knowing... this dream that does not seem like his own. "Let the midnight special/Shine a light on me..." wails the singer. And there IS a light, a light in the forest of coats, and he wants to see its source. He comes to the clearing, to the place of strangeness. It looks like a kitchen, one he does not live in yet, one that will disintegrate in 10 years' time in a holocaust that will change Benjie's life forever. The kitchen where his mother will die. In the clearing of coats, in this kitchen of dreams, there is a shape, its back to Benjie, and that's where the light is coming from. The man is crouching, wearing a long blue coat, he's wearing- "No," someone else whispers. Benjie looks up. There is someone else here, standing in the shadows the way he stands in them, watching the man in the clearing of coats. "Look again, Benjie," the shadowy figure says in a voice so low he cannot tell if it belongs to a man or a woman. "Look at him again." Benjie looks, and the light is still coming from him, something he's holding, perhaps, but through the glow Benjie can see that he's no longer wearing the blue coat. He's wearing pale green pants and a matching shirt. But they don't look like ordinary clothes, they look special, something like... like... He doesn't know, and so he steps forward to see, steps closer to see what the man is wearing, what the man is DOING, because it's bad, what he's doing, it's wrong. He's crouched by the stove, by the stove in his mother's house, and he's doing something to it, and there's a new smell, a bad smell- "Gas," Benjie whispers. The figure in green whirls, and the light explodes in Benjie's eyes. Something in his hand, something shining in the hand of the man- "LET THE MIDNIGHT SPE-SHULLLLLL... SHINE THAT EVER-LOVIN LIGHT ON ME!" screams the singer. Benjie Healy awoke in his bed, screaming for his father. * * * "It's been a good session, everyone," Dr. Edmond said, smiling thinly at the group seated in a semi-circle around him. Few were returning his gaze. He wasn't exactly intimidating - stubby, pinch-faced, the cuffs of his threadworn trousers always at least an inch too short. But few of his patients ever met his eyes. There was something about that steely gaze... "But there's still one member of our group we haven't heard from tonight," Edmond said, and turned to glance at the solitary figure by the window, outlined in darkness by the arc-sodium spotlights outside. "How about it?" Dr. Edmond asked. The shadowy figure turned, revealing a twisted ruin of a face. "I got nothin to share," he hissed, raising one arm in emphasis. It was the one that had done the work on his face, the one that ended in the sleek silver hook, its tip now safely capped in rubber. "But so much to bear," Dr. Edmond replied smoothly. The spotlights outside glinted brightly off the hook pointed at the doctor, and was reflected in Edmond's eyes, turning them into silver coins. "Come," Dr. Edmond said, smiling below those glittering eyes. "Unburden yourself." Waylon Flood came out of the shadows to take a seat. He was wearing the same pale green hospital togs the rest of the patients and inmates here at Juniper House wore... ACT ONE Benjie was sitting at the small table in the kitchen, jabbing a spoon into mushy cornflakes without much enthusiasm, when there was a knock on the door and a dark head of hair peeked in. "Anyone home?" It was Miss Muir, the new school counselor. The woman Benjie's father was seeing. She came in. "Hi, Ben," she said. "Is your dad around?" "He's getting dressed." Merlyn went over to him, hating her inability to be herself with this troubled boy. She recalled watching him cry over his mother's grave on All Hallow's Eve, unable to go to him, unable to stay away. Now she was here, flesh and blood, able to communicate with him... and everything he knew about her was a lie. Except that she loved his father. And neither she nor Ben was ready to tell Benjie that yet. It was going to come up sooner or later, and she believed, HOPED, it might lead to something more. And that would mean coming clean to Ben Jr. She would not allow him to live in a house of lies the way Caleb had all those years. "Ready to face another day of eighth grade?" she asked cheerfully. "Don't," he said, his voice suddenly tinged with anger. He looked up at her. "Just don't." He rose and stormed past her, grabbing his books from the counter and slamming out the back door. Merlyn watched him go, then sighed and went to find her man. * * * "Hey, Benjie, wait up!" Benjie turned, seeing Caleb Temple running across the street to catch up with him, bookbag thumping against his back. "Hey," he said as the younger boy reached him. Caleb fell into step and they walked for a time in silence. Caleb noticed the dark circles under his friend's eyes. Benjie looked exhausted, as if he'd stayed up all night again watching the Sci-Fi Channel. Caleb envied the Healys' satellite dish. "Caleb," Benjie said at length, "After your mama died, did your daddy have a girlfriend?" "Naw. He spent most of his time dating the St. Pauli girl. Least that's what he used to say." Benjie didn't quite grasp that, but his mind was toiling over other matters anyway. "You know the new counselor at school? That pretty lady with the dark hair?" Caleb nodded, looking away to hide the sudden color in his cheeks. "Sure. Miss Muir." "My daddy's seein' her." Caleb's jaw dropped. Merlyn... and Benjie's dad? Lucas's deputy? "No kiddin?" he asked incredulously. * * * Rita Barber was punching in for her morning shift when she heard someone in the waiting room call out a cheerful greeting: "Morning, Sheriff!" She stiffened, slipped her card into its slot, and started toward the desk, already hearing the sound of Lucas Buck's boots coming her way. The sound was still not back to its usual metronome-accurate tempo, and as she turned to face him, she could see the way he still favored the bad knee. "Why, mornin, Miz Rita!" Lucas boomed. "Good to see you back to your usual routine. What with your recent breakup and all. Hard to hold onto those interpersonal relationships, isn't it? Believe me, I know." "What can I do for you, Sheriff?" she asked coldly. Lucas tapped his knee. "Guess I don't have to explain. Still not quite up to snuff. Doc Crower around?" "He's stitching up a bicycle accident in three." Lucas glanced around, put his hands on his hips, and shrugged. "Looks like it's just you and me then. Give us a chance to... tie up a few loose ends, won't it?" Rita swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded. "Step into the examining room. I'll be right with you." * * * Merlyn didn't mention Benjie's behavior until Ben pulled up outside the school to drop her off. "I think we're going to have to talk about Benjie," she said. Ben's smile drained. "Uh-oh, what's he gotten himself into now? You didn't say anythi-" "It's not school-related, Ben," Merlyn said, putting a hand on his. "He's having trouble dealing with you and me. And I don't like deceiving him about who I am." "You prefer to tell him the truth? That you're my formerly dead girlfriend?" She saw the wry humor dancing in his eyes, and wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm serious. He's gone through a lot. He still doesn't have any answers about his mother's death. It might be better for him to have a clear idea of what's happening in your life." "Merlyn, *I* don't have the clearest idea of what's happening in my life lately, you know?" She leaned over and kissed him. "Just think about it?" Smiling, she got out of the car and started toward the double-doors of the school, leaving him looking after her, wondering about all the unexpected curves in the road when you're the one driving the car. * * * Rita found Buck waiting for her in the examining room, leaning against a supply cabinet, thumbs hooked in his belt. "If you'll take off your pants, Sheriff, I can check that out for you-" "Tempting. But we both know that's not why I'm here." She steeled herself and glared at him. "Our deal's done, Lucas. Ben left me for that little twitch of a school counselor, and all of Trinity knows it." "Doesn't change the fact of your involvement in his late missus' death, does it now?" Rita closed her mouth abruptly, trying to find something to say. Lucas stepped closer, scrutinizing her face. "Does it?" She put her hands to her face. "I don't know." "What do you mean you don't know-" "I DON'T KNOW!" she shouted, face to face with him now. "I CAN'T REMEMBER!" Lucas settled back on his heels, folding his arms and regarding her mutely, the muscle in his jaw working. "And you don't know either, do you?" she asked him suddenly. "You were bluffing all along. I thought you knew, Lucas. Knew more than I did, anyway. But you were just dangling me along to keep tabs on Ben, for whatever reasons you do things like that-" "You seemed awfully willing to dangle, for a woman with nothing to hide," he countered. "I may have left it alone then. I had my reasons. But let's say it's a case I've found new interest in... following certain changes in fortune round these parts lately." He was fingering the heavy ring on his finger, as if drawing comfort from it. "Just where were you that night, Miss Barber?" Rita drew a sharp breath, let it out slow. "If you're going to charge me, Sheriff, you charge me. Otherwise, I've got business to attend to this morning." And with that, she stormed out. Lucas glanced down at the ring on his finger, glanced INTO it, saw the shifting black space where he should have seen answers, and clenched his fist tight. The power was back, but the answers he sought in regard to the circumstances of that night were not. * * * Ben was out on morning rounds, brooding behind the wheel of his patrol car. 'You should be a happy man these days, Ben Healy,' he thought morosely. 'Work's keeping you busy, Lucas is just about back to his old self, and the girl of your dreams is finally a part of your life. What more could you ask?' Then again, he knew nothing was that simple. Work was keeping him busy because Trinity seemed more than ever to be spinning out of control, bizarre occurrences becoming the order of the day... And Lucas being back to his old self... well, that was a curse gift-wrapped to LOOK like a blessing, wasn't it? And then there was Merlyn. As wonderful as the last few weeks had been, he knew it was hard on her. She couldn't even admit to her own identity for fear of being locked up in Juniper House with the rest of the crazies. And though she seemed to share his love for her, she wasn't fully comfortable with him yet. Because his life wasn't limited to him alone. She deserved to be a part of all of it. He would talk to Benjie, Ben decided, try to bridge whatever rift his involvement with Merlyn had opened between them. He was driving along the river now, and something made him slow down. He looked out over the rushing water, the place that had so often been in his dreams during the last year. Dreams of blood and temptation, roses and black ice. He remembered Barbara Joy falling through the ice, calling to him for help, exploding into glittering fragments when he failed to save her. She had visited only once since then, the day of the Winter Festival, keeping tabs on his progress with their son. She hadn't returned to him since. He should be relieved... but, strangely, he found that it saddened him. He had failed her twice, and it still hurt. "Where are you now, Barbara Joy?" he murmured. There was no answer. The water went on its indifferent way, ignoring the man driving the car. * * * Merlyn was reviewing her schedule for the day when there was a knock at the door. She looked up, and found Rita Barber standing in her doorway. "Rita," she said, startled. "Hi, hello." Rita blinked, puzzled. "Miss Muir, right?" She held out a tentative hand, which Merlyn shook politely. "We haven't met... have we?" Rita asked curiously. Merly felt her cheeks go hot. "No, not in person, I, uh..." Rita dropped her hand. "I used to see Ben Healy, Miss Muir." The two traded a long look, then Rita dropped her eyes. "But you know that. Just like I know you're seeing Ben now." Merlyn nodded, biting her lip. "Things do have a way of getting around in Trinity. Please, call me Lyn." Rita regarded her keenly. "You've certainly learned our ways in a short time, Lyn." 'Not as short as you might think,' Merlyn thought. "Small towns," she said, trying to smile. "Yes," Rita agreed. Another uncomfortable moment, which Merlyn spent wanting to crawl into her desk. "I'm sorry," Rita said, "I've got to get back to the hospital. I just dropped by to refill the school nurse's supplies, and to confirm that I'll be here tomorrow morning for the annual vaccinations and scoliosis tests." "Oh," Merly said, nodding. "Yes, the principal told me it was that time again. I'll do my best to help out however I can. What time shall we expect you?" "Say nine? We usually do it in the cafeteria. Saves time." Merlyn nodded. "All right. See you then." Rita gave her a brief tip of the head and started to turn, then paused. "Miss Muir... uh, Lyn..." Merlyn watched her expectantly. "Take care of yourself," Rita warned. "Ben isn't the easiest man to hold onto." She looked away briefly. "You know about his ex-wife." "Only what Ben's told me." "With Ben, that's hardly ever the whole story," Rita replied, fixing her with a steady look. Merlyn started to reply, and then Caleb appeared behind Rita, looking uncertainly from his sister to the nurse. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to interrupt." Rita smiled thinly. "That's all right, Caleb. I was just on my way out." Caleb watched her leave, then smiled and pulling the door shut so he could hug his sister tightly. "Thank you, Caleb, I think I needed that this morning." She stroked his hair. "Can I ask you somethin, Merly?" "Sure." "Are you goin' out with Benjie's daddy?" Merlyn laughed. "Oh, it's gonna be one of those days, all right. I forgot you and Benjie are buddies." Caleb shrugged. "He's all right. He doesn't seem to mind that I'm younger than he is." "He's like his father then." "So y'ARE goin out with him?" She nodded. "Is that all right?" Caleb thought about it a moment. "Does he make you happy?" Merlyn nodded. "Happier than I ever expected to be again, Caleb." His small grin widened. "That's good, then. I'm glad, Merly. I'm real glad for you." He hugged her again, and Merlyn hugged back fiercely, planting a kiss on the top of his bristly scalp. * * * Mrs. Garlick was in the middle of a lecture on Middle Eastern economies when Benjie, in a seat in the back of his Social Studies class, finally quit fighting the weight of his eyelids and let them slip shut. He was asleep in three minutes, and back in the dream. The goddamned dream... Benjie is four. Benjie is lost. Benjie is afraid. He pushes blindly through the forest of suitcoats and sportcoats and overcoats, trying to ignore the sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival. The music is cranked to painful volume, and he claps his hands over his ears. "LET THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL..." John Fogerty wails, "SHINE A LIGHT ON ME..." There's the strange light ahead, the clearing, the place of strangeness. And there, crouched beside the stove -- his mother's stove, the one that Daddy says caused the gas leak that blew up the house -- is the crouching man, his back to Benjie. The light shining from his hand- "Benjie," someone whispers. He looks up. The other is here again too, standing in the shadows, watching the man in the clearing of coats. "Look again, Benjie," the shadowy figure says. "Look at him again." Benjie looks, and the light is still coming from him, something he's holding, perhaps, something... "LET THE MIDNIGHT SPE-SHULLLL... SHINE THAT EVER-LOVIN LIGHT ON MEEEEE..." He looks, and it's not something he's holding. It's something else. Something long, curving, reflecting the light. Something... It is a hook. "NO," Benjie screams. "NO! NO!" Waylon Flood whirls and glares at him, still holding the gas line he has pulled out of the wall, the hissing line that belches colorless death into the room where Benjie's mother will die... "NO-OOOOOOOO!" Screams all around him. CCR cut out. The forest of coats was also gone. Benjie was back in the classroom, with thirty startled faces staring back at him. Mrs. Garlick looked aghast. There were giggles. Benjie stared back at them all, his face a mixture of horror and shame... ACT TWO The double-doors to the junior high burst open and Benjie charging blindly out and down the steps, knowing he was going truant and not caring- He ran straight into someone on the steps outside, and cried out as he was grabbed. "Benjie! Benjie, what is it?" He looked up. It was Nurse Rita, his father's former girlfriend, looking at him with a mixture of concern and surprise. He groaned and threw his arms around her, pressing his face into her shoulder. "Honey, what is it?" she asked him, stroking his hair. "I was just on my way out. Tell me, what's wrong?" She lifted his chin in her hand, looked into his eyes, but Benjie could only shake his head mutely. "Listen," she said kindly. "I'm finishing some business in town. You could ride with me. We could talk on the way, and afterward, if you want, I'll drop you off at home, or back here, or at your dad's office." She smiled at him. "I promise, I won't tell your dad unless you want me to." He nodded. She smiled and put her arm around him, and they started down the steps together. * * * "Sheriff Buck?" Lucas turned to find stumpy Elliott Drabble there, peering nervously up at him with his hat in his hands. "Well, if it isn't Trinity's newest slumlord. Got those papers in order for quarterly inspections, Drabble?" "Oh, of course, Sheriff. But I've come on other business." "Why don't we step into my office." He glanced over at his deputy, who had just returned from rounds. "Ben, you on top of things out here?" Ben gave him a thumbs-up, and went to scare up Floyd. Lucas gestured that Drabble should precede him, and the two men went into his office. "What is it then," Lucas asked, closing the door behind him. Drabble's face was more pinched than usual. "I'm hoping you'll lend me a hand in settling Miss Madison's debts, Sheriff." Lucas looked at him in genuine surprise. "Victoria Madison? That crazy schoolteacher who threatened the life of young Caleb Temple? Surely you know my influence over outstanding debts stops at the morgue." "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, Sheriff. You see, Miss Madison's lease was arranged by a third party, and I'm afraid they haven't stepped forward to meet their obligations-" "A third party?" A flare of pain in his knee, and a matching one in his ring finger. Lucas frowned. Drabble was withdrawing a folded lease from his inner pocket. "I should have been more careful, but I'm afraid legal action will be my only recourse unless you could, perhaps... put the fear of God into them?" "Not my department," Buck said, taking the form. "But the fear of me should be more than adequ-" He broke off, reading the lease form. "When was this contract signed?" "About a week before Miss Madison arrived in town." Lucas folded the lease and slipped it into his own vest pocket. "Don't you worry, Mr. Drabble," he said. "I'll handle your little problem. And perhaps settle a few of my own in the process." "Thank you, Sheriff. And if you ever decide to give up that big empty mansion of yours-" "Not while I'm still drawing breath," Buck replied, starting past him. Drabble touched a finger to the side of his nose. "Indeed." * * * Despite his seeming desire to open up to her, Benjie said hardly two words as they drove through town. Rita finally gritted her teeth and asked, "Benjie, is this about your dad and Miss Muir?" Benjie shook his head. "You know, it's important your dad is happy," Rita said. "I really wish things had worked out between him and me, but-" She broke off, looking away. "Sometime you think you got everything figured out just right, and then you turn around and it isn't that way at all. It happens to all of us-" "I know who killed my mother," Benjie said quietly. Rita blanched, and her hands twitched on the steering wheel strongly enough to make the car shudder to the left before she corrected it. "You... you do?" Benjie nodded. "I thought it was Sheriff Buck, but..." She glanced sharply at him. "Why would you say that?" Benjie looked away, unable to admit to what he'd seen in his dreams. He would sound stupid. Rita turned left. "I just have to stop here and drop off some supplies, Benjie, but maybe then we can talk more about this, OK?" Benjie shrugged, then lifted his head from the blur of passing roadway to the sprawling building they were coming to. His eyes saucered. "Here?" he gasped. "Yes, it's part of my job," she said, pulling up the Juniper House driveway and parking. "I'll just be a few minutes, I promise." She patted his arm and got out. Benjie stared up at the looming shape of Juniper House as she rummaged in the back. He watched her start up the steps with a double- armload of supplies. As she went inside, he heard another vehicle pull up the drive. Benjie recognized the sound of the engine at once, and slid low in his seat, watching in horror as Lucas Buck's Crown Victoria pulled up next to Rita's car. The Sheriff got out, looking up at Juniper House. He glanced at the other car, but did not seem to see the boy cowering low in the passenger seat. He started up the steps, favoring his bad leg. Breathing hard, Benjie watched him disappear inside. * * * Rita was coming out of the supply closet, marking her clipboard, when she heard the familiar clockstrikes of Buck's boots. Going pale, she shrank back into the small side room before the tall man in the long coat caught sight of her as he hurried toward the front desk. "What can I do for you, Sheriff?" Rita heard the orderly on duty ask brightly. She assumed it was the same cheerful, wall-eyed fellow she'd greeted when she came in to make her deliveries. She'd never met the young man before, but the turnover rate at Juniper House was notorious. Buck said something too low for her to catch, and was answered with, "Why, straight down the hall, Sheriff. Take a left, then last door on the left. Wait, let me show you." Rita clawed for the light switch and flipped it off, shrinking back into the shadows as she heard their footsteps approach. Buck and the orderly passed without slowing, and she let out a long breath. She slipped out into the hall and moved quickly toward the front door. She didn't need another run-in with him today. She hurried to her car, next to the Crown Vic, and got in quickly. "Let's get a move on, Benj-" But the passenger seat was empty. She looked around in confusion, but the boy was nowhere in sight. Had he gone inside looking for her? She thought about going back in to find him... then glanced at the Crown Vic again. Puzzled, she started the car, backing down the driveway. * * * "What'd you say your name was, son?" Lucas asked conversationally as they walked. "Ernie, sir. Ernie Drummond." "Been working here long?" "Long enough to belong in one of the cells, I think sometimes." "I hear you, son." The orderly unlocked the door and bade the Sheriff enter. Lucas could see that the chair behind the desk was empty. The nameplate on the desk read Dr. Richard Edmond, PhD. Lucas frowned, stepping through the doorway. "You expecting him back anytime s-" He had a sudden flash of premonition, but it came a hair too late. The wall-eyed orderly brought his heavy police truncheon down on the back of the Sheriff's head, dropping him like a sack of grain. He glanced around to see if anyone had taken notice, then closed and relocked the solid oak door, leaving Lucas Buck crumpled on the floor inside... ACT THREE The door to the police station opened, and Rita walked in. Ben saw her and blinked in surprise. "Rita?" She glanced around, caught sight of him, and tried to compose herself. The guilty feeling that had started the moment she pulled out of the Juniper House driveway had grown until she took a detour, deciding to pay him a visit. "Ben, you got a moment?" Floyd and Ben exchanged glances. "I'm going to go... think up a reason to be somewhere else," Floyd said self-consciously, and made his escape. Ben hooked his thumbs in his belt and regarded Rita curiously. "How've you been?" "I'm not here to make small talk, Ben." She reached out abruptly and pulled his hands free of his belt. "Stop that. You look like HIM." Ben folded his arms self-consciously. "What's going on, Rita?" "I ran into Benjie today at the school. He was very upset." Ben blew a gust of air through his teeth. "Oh, hell." "Ben, he said something about knowing who caused the explosion at Barbara Joy's house." Coldness stole its way through Ben to his heart. "What?" "He said something about Lucas... I don't know, he was really upset." "I'll talk to him after school," Ben said. "He's not there. He was so agitated I offered to let him ride with me on some errands awhile." "You did what?" "I didn't mean any harm, Ben!" She wrung her hands miserably. "I love the boy, you know that. But he ditched me. I was delivering supplies out to Juniper House, and he just disappeared." "Juniper House?" Ben turned and called into the back, "Floyd! Where'd Lucas say he was goin?" Floyd peeked out of the back room. "B'lieve he was heading up to the asylum on some business, Ben." "Yes, I saw him there," Rita said. Ben whirled on her. "He was upset about something to do with Lucas and you LEFT him there with him?" "I didn't LEAVE him, Ben, I-" Ben caught her arm and hauled her after him. "Floyd, I'll be back!" * * * Benjie had hidden behind one of the big rocking chairs on the Juniper House porch when Rita hurried down the steps. If she was worried about where he'd gotten off to, it certainly didn't stop her from peeling out in a hurry. When she was out of sight, Benjie went to the door. He didn't expect it to open for him, but it did. There was no one in the entryway. Benjie looked around curiously. He'd never been here before, hadn't even known the place existed until his stepfather flipped his lid during the hearing that day last year, and got himself committed to Juniper House in the process. That was the real curiosity, wasn't it? The dream seemed so REAL, the shadowy figure making it so clear to him who had tampered with the gas line in the kitchen, making him realize the crouching figure had not been Lucas Buck but his stepfather, Waylon Flood... But if Waylon had been locked up here all this time, then... how? The noise of a door closing somewhere in the depths of the building. Benjie gasped and glanced around hurriedly, looking for somewhere to hide. There was a stairwell across from the reception desk. He dashed to the door and pulled it open, not bothering to glance at the small plaque next to it. The door closed behind him, just as the wall-eyed orderly came up the corridor, swinging his billyclub. The plaque read "VIOLENT WARD - NO VISITORS." The door only opened from the hallway side. * * * "Sheriff? Sheriff Buck?" Lucas groaned, feeling the cold tile of the floor against his cheekbone. His skull was pounding fiercely. He lifted his head, tried to clear his vision. Someone was kneeling over him, shaking his shoulder. "Would you mind?" Lucas said, brushing off the shaking hand. He blinked rapidly and sat up, facing a stumpy, pinch-faced fellow who seemed somehow familiar. "Dr. Edmond?" The man nodded. "Yes, that's me." "I don't know how you're picking your staff these days, Doc, but hiring from within should definitely exclude patients." "Who hit you?" "That orderly of yours. Drummond. I'm afraid I was mistaken in my assumptions when I made the trip out here, Doc. You see, I'd received some information tying you to the late Miss Victoria Madison-" "The kidnapper?" Edmond said, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Lucas withdrew the lease from his pocket and handed it to the doctor. "That your signature?" Edmond glanced at him, his expression almost bemused. "Why, no. No, it isn't. How very strange." Lucas snorted. "Not so strange considering your orderly clocking me in the head and taking off. Looks like he may have been trying to divert attention from himself and lay it on you, Doc. Always seemed likely that Miss Madison had an accomplice. This lease seemed to suggest it was you." "I've no doubt you'd be led to think so." Edmond was shaking his head. "Ernie Drummond has been handling all our paperwork for months, Sheriff. He signs my name to a lot of documents I don't have time to handle myself." He stood up and offered Lucas a hand. "Perhaps we'd better find him." "Yes, maybe we'd better." That was when the alarms began going off. * * * In the stairwell, passing a door marked JANITOR'S CLOSET, Benjie paused, turning wildly at the sound of the alarms. There were other sounds from somewhere below him -- clanking noises, and the shouts of patients or perhaps caretakers. "Free!" someone was screaming. "Free! Free!" "Cry havoc!" someone else shrieked, "and let slip the dogs of war!" Benjie gasped, turning to pelt up the stairs once more. Only to find the door to the first floor locked. He whirled, pressing his back to the door. The shouts were getting louder. * * * Edmond and Lucas ran to the reception area, listening to the alarms. "What the hell is that!" Lucas said, having to raise his voice to be heard. Edmond was shaking his head. "I'm afraid it isn't good. Someone's in the control room. It sounds like they've disengaged the electronic locks on the cells." "Doctor, you'd better lock your inmates down." "They're not inmates, Sheriff, they're patients-" "I would suggest this ain't the time for semantics, Doc!" Lucas yelled. "Where's this control room?" "Down the hall, turn right, all the way at the end." Lucas was already off and running, favoring his bad leg. Edmond watched him go, then whirled back as someone began pounding on the other side of the stairwell door. * * * There were fifteen of them crowding the top of the stairwell, but mostly they hung back and let the biggest of them hammer at the door. If he couldn't open it, none of them could. Daniel "Puppy Chow" Pollins had been waiting a long time for this. Twenty-four years old, six feet six inches tall, and weighing something in the neighborhood of 400 pounds, Pollins had been a "resident" of Juniper House for almost a decade. His parents had had him committed when it was discovered that scores of missing dogs in Trinity and Ascension -- long chalked up to some kind of gang that stole animals for high-profit animal testing -- were winding up on the dinner table in the beat-up mobile home Pollins resided in behind his parents' house. Doctors had no explanation for why Pollins was the way he was. He just liked to eat dogs. On Wonder Bread. With Miracle Whip and lettuce. Pollins was also extremely prone to violent outbursts, and his size made him a formidable test of character and endurance for the Juniper House staff. He was currently being a formidable test of character and endurance for the door standing between the residents of Juniper House's violent ward and freedom. There were puppies out there, he knew. Terriers and cockers and poodles. Oh my. * * * Benjie cowered in the darkness of the janitor's closet, hands clapped to his ears, praying none of them would open the door and find him in there. ACT FOUR Trying to ignore the pain in his leg, Lucas rounded the curve and ran down the last hall. He passed a couple of wandering patients, shuffling along in their smocks, looking lost. These weren't the ones to worry about. These were sheep. The wolves were downstairs. Better safe than sorry, though. He found the control bay, tensing in case Ernie Drummond was waiting for him behind the heavy door. But the bay was empty. He would have liked to curse the administrators for not keeping a security guard or two on the premises, but he remembered helping to convince the city board that wasting his taxpayers' dollars on weekend warriors for a bunch of drool-bibbed schizophrenics was not in Trinity's best interest. Not, it seemed, his most cogent decision. It was definitely about time he got himself back on track. Lucas studied the controls, saw a key sticking out of a slot marked "Master Perimeter Locks." He quickly turned it, locking down all the outer doors of the building. None of the lunatics in the hall would slip out into his town now. There was a row of monitors over the console, and he scanned them quickly. The violent ones were out of their cells, all right. The last monitor was marked "Violent Ward," and he could see several figures in white smocks and green hospital garb milling about down there. Some of them were fighting. Others were on their knees, praying for guidance. Probably from Mickey Mouse. Or Monty Hall. Or- He paused, glancing at the next monitor in the row. It showed the stairwell door barring the violent ward prisoners' escape. Someone was standing there, looking at it. Dr. Edmond, he thought- But it wasn't. The figure turned its head, looked directly at Lucas through the monitor. Smiled. It was Ernie Drummond. "Oh, hell," Lucas growled. Drummond opened the door. * * * The clock on the police station wall was striking twelve when the door opened, admitting that pretty new school counselor Ben was seeing. As she approached the desk, Floyd decided ole Ben wasn't quite so dense in the head after all, if THIS was who he'd thrown Rita Barber over for. "Deputy," she said. "How are you? I'm Lyn Muir, I work over at-" "Over to the middle school, sure," Floyd said, nodding shyly. "Good to make your acquaintance, Miz Muir. What can I do for ya?" "Thought I'd come see if Ben might be free for lunch." "'Fraid ya missed him, Miz Muir, he left about five minutes ago with Ri-" He broke off, seeing the potential nest of snakes he'd open up by finishing that sentence. "He was headed up to Juniper House to meet up with Sheriff Buck." "Juniper House?" Merly asked. "That's interesting." Behind them, the telephone rang, and Floyd raised a finger. "One sec, ma'am." He picked up the receiver. "Trinity Sheriff's Department, this is Floyd." "Floyd, shut up and listen," Lucas said quickly. There was a dreadful pounding sound behind his voice, and he was speaking in a rushed hush. "Listen carefully. We've got a situation up here at Juniper House. You need to get Ben and everyone else who's available out here NOW." "Ben's already on his way out there, Lucas, what's going on?" "We got a full-scale escape in progress, Floyd. All hell's breaking loose. I've locked down the exits, but the inmates are loose inside the building with civilians. Not to mention me. Roll Asendorf and Reilly. And tell 'em-" There was a sudden splintering crash and a swell of angry voices. Then the line went dead. Floyd put down the receiver and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh boy," he murmured. "Deputy?" Merlyn asked curiously. "We, uh... I, uh... You're gonna have to excuse me, ma'am, we got an emergency up at Juniper House." He turned and dashed into the back, yelling "Reilly!" at the top of his lungs. "Wilson, get up here on dispatch, I'm rolling with Reilly!" Merlyn turned away and started out, feeling her heart beginning to speed up in her chest. Caleb was waiting for her outside, kicking weeds growing up between the cracks in the sidewalk. Merly had decided to bring him along for lunch with Ben, hoping spending some time with the two of them would encourage Ben to make her a part of Benjie's life as well. "What'd he say?" Caleb asked. "There's some kind of emergency up at the sanitarium," she said. "Ben's there." She started up the street. "Well, wait, where are you going?" Caleb asked. "I've got to get up there, Caleb. Something's going on." A patrol car suddenly emerged from the mouth of the alley next to them. Caleb recognized Floyd in the passenger seat. "Wait!" he yelled, waving frantically. Floyd looked up. Glanced from Caleb to Merlyn. "She's his girlfriend!" Caleb said indignantly. Floyd pondered it, then said something to Reilly. "All right," he called. "Come on if you're coming!" Merlyn glanced thankfully at Caleb and ran to the police car, piling into the back. Caleb was right behind her. As soon as he'd slammed the door, Reilly peeled out, hitting the sirens. Floyd glanced over the seat at Caleb. "So what are YOU doing? Playing hooky?" Caleb and Merlyn traded looks. * * * "I'm sorry, Ben," Rita said for the tenth time. "I'm just worried about the boy, Rita," Ben replied. He was driving fast, eyes intent on the road. "He's having a hard enough time these days. He's still never gotten over Barbara Joy." "Who has?" Rita said unkindly. He glanced at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" "I just hope your new babydoll girlfriend watches her step, Ben." "Rita, that's not fair." "What would you know about fair?" He started to respond, when the radio crackled. "Ben? Ben, you there? Come back!" He picked up the handset and keyed it. "This is Ben, Floyd." "Uh, Ben, you out at Juniper House yet?" He sounded panicky. Ben glanced at Rita. "About two minutes away. What's going on, Floyd?" Floyd told him. * * * The green-garbed patients of the violent ward shoved Lucas down the hall toward the reception area, some of them making growling sounds in their throats, others whispering threats. "Easy, fellas," Lucas said soothingly, feeling anything but soothing inside. "Y'all just take it easy now." A towering man-mountain, head shaved to razor stubble, brought up the rear, glowering at the Sheriff. Lucas realized with a jolt who he was. "Hiya, Pollins," he said, and sized the man up, raising an eyebrow. "Whadda they been feedin you... Saint Bernards?" Pollins stepped up to him, leaned in close, and growled menacingly. Lucas narrowed his eyes. "One word, Danny boy. Milkbones." The mountain blinked, brows furrowing, but a moment later he stepped away again. The corner of Lucas's mouth crept upward imperceptibly. So far, so good, but attitude would only take him a couple inches. There were miles left to go. They pushed him into the waiting area, where someone was waiting for him. Lucas, expecting Drummond, got another shock. "Waylon," he said in acknowledgement. Waylon Flood got up from the small couch and walked up to him, nodding his head. "Been a long time, Buck. A long time." Lucas smiled. "Still got that skin condition, I see." Waylon's good hand jerked up to his scarred cheeks, then his face darkened with rage. "I'm looking forward to returning the favor, Sheriff." He glanced up at Pollins. "You re-open the doors?" Pollins opened one massive fist, revealing the back half of the master key. "When he heard us coming, he broke it off in the switch," another of the patients reported. "We can't open them." He glared at Lucas, who shrugged innocently. Waylon waved his hook. "No matter. Did you send Martin like I told you?" Pollins nodded, and just then a skinny man in a billowing white hospital gown came hustling down the corridor. He was carrying a service revolver and a box of shells. Waylon took it, hefting it with a pleased look on his face. "That'll do," he said, and gave Buck a sneer. "When you locked 'er down, Buck, you shoulda locked it all down. Everybody knows the night guard keeps this in his locker." "Careful with that thing, Waylon," Lucas replied. "Don't shoot the other one off." Another flash of rage, but Flood got himself under control. He nodded to the rest. "Get him downstairs." Pollins and the others began shoving Lucas toward the stairwell door, which had been chocked open. "Where's Drummond?" Lucas called to Waylon. "Pulling the shots for this little caper of yours?" Waylon frowned. "Don't believe I've met the man, Buck. But if he's another patient here, he's going to have to get in line to get a piece of your hide." Then they were shoving Lucas down the stairs, leaving Waylon rubbing his ragged face and looking fiercely after them. He heard tires squeal outside, and went to look out the window. * * * Ben swung the patrol car into Juniper House's driveway, pulling up next to the Crown Vic. "Hell, Rita, you'd better wait right here," he said, opening his door. "We might have a serious situation inside, unless Lucas has managed to-" The windshield exploded in front of them. Rita screamed, flinching away as safety glass showered them. "God awmighty!" Ben hollered. He looked over to see if she was hit, and saw the smoking hole in the seatback between them. Looking out the cracked and starred remains of the windshield, he saw someone moving behind the steel bars in one of the front window, and gasped, "Out, Rita! Get out! Around the back!" They both slid out as more shots thundered around them. Ben scrambled on his belly toward the rear of the patrol car, and found Rita already there, miraculously uninjured. "Stay down," he hissed. "Some damn fool in there's got a gun." "Really," Rita said dryly. "What was your first clue?" * * * Waylon was reloading awkwardly, chuckling to himself despite the hindrance of the damned hook. Surely, he'd just surprised Deputy Dawg Healy into watering his trousers. Oh, how rich today was turning out to be. Just for good measure, he took aim and unloaded another couple of rounds into the whirling blue and red strobes atop the patrol car. "How d'you like that!" he shrieked. "How ya like them apples, Benny-boy!" * * * "Oh my God," Ben said in a weak voice, still crouching behind the car. "It's Waylon." Rita just looked at him, failing to make the connection. "Waylon Flood!" Ben said more loudly. "My ex-wife's ex-husband!" Rita's mouth fell open. "That crazy bastard who cut up his own face in court?" "The same. And not counting one other person, I'm probably at the top of his 'Least Favorite People' list." "Who's the other person?" Ben nodded at the sprawling sanitarium. "Lucas Buck. Who's in there with him. Somewhere." * * * Benjie had heard the crowd of growling, shouting patients come thundering down the stairs again, passing the closet where he was hiding. When they'd gone, he peeked out, hoping he could get away through the front entrance now. He'd nearly reached the top of the stairs when the gunfire started. He froze, then heard his stepfather screaming his father's name as he fired again. And again. Shaking, Benjie began backing down the steps again, when Waylon suddenly appeared in the doorway, grinning like a crazy man. Which he was. "Goin' somewhere, boy?" Waylon growled. Benjie looked up at him, eyes huge with terror. * * * Ben lifted his head, trying to spot the shooter. He didn't dare take a shot at Waylon, in case there were innocent people in his vicinity within the building. "Look," he said to Rita, "Floyd and the others will be here any minute. You wave them off. I don't want any sniper victims." "What are you going to do?" "Try to find some other way in there," Ben said. "Though I'll be damned if I know how." "Wait!" Rita gasped. She was groping in her pocket. She came up with a heavy set of keys, and began hunting through them rapidly. "You have keys?" "I may still have a key to the service door out back. I used to pull night shifts here when I was first starting at Fulton County, trying to boost my income. We used to take smoke breaks out there. They never asked for the key back when I went full-time at the hospital." She paused, examining a key closely. "This is it." She worked it off the ring and handed it to him, closing her hand over his a moment. "Be careful, Ben." He nodded, and lifted his head, watching the front of the building. Then he lifted himself into a track runner's crouch and bolted around the side of the car, running up the landscaped lawn toward the west side of the big building. That was when he heard Waylon shouting to him again. "Ben! BEN! HEY, BENNY-BOY!" Already halfway around the side of the building, Ben drew up short behind the thick bole of a towering oak, gun up, peeking around the trunk. He couldn't see anything from this angle. But Rita could. She squinted, seeing movement in the window again. She could make out a shape. No, two shapes... Her blood turned to ice water. Waylon Flood was standing behind the heavy iron bars in the big front window, and he had Ben's son with him, holding what looked like a big revolver near the boy's head. "YOU'D BEST PONY UP, BENNY-BOY!" Waylon bellowed. "TIME FOR US TO SQUARE SOME OLD DEBTS, YOU AND ME!" Rita closed her eyes. "Oh my God, Ben. Oh my God..." TO BE CONTINUED THIS SUNDAY... WITH PART TWO - "FIRE AND ICE" DISCLAIMER: Any story/episode appearing that states it is part of Virtual AG-Season Three is based upon the Television show, "American Gothic", which is the property of Shaun Cassidy, Renaissance Productions, and CBS (apparently). The characters added to support this concept, and the storylines, are the property of the writers acknowledged as such. PLEASE, DON'T SUE US!!