Page 94 of Desecrated Saints
“Be careful and don’t get killed. I am not doing that paperwork.”
The riot of noise from the crowd in the distance accompanies our footsteps into the unknown, gradually fading as we pass behind the perimeter of the institute. Much like Blackwood, it’s a testament to the wealth and opulence that Incendia wields as a weapon. Another slick, well-funded campaign enabling the abuse and exploitation.
Sliding through the chain-link fence that has been broken with wire cutters, we enter the loading bay. It’s spookily deserted, with nothing but empty boxes and parked vehicles. The bay door hangs open ominously, despite the flashing red light above it.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Kade murmurs.
Hopping up on the brick platform, I peek inside the dark institute. “Whatever Bancroft is doing here, it’s nothing we haven’t faced before. Come on, we’re running out of time.”
We sneak inside together. This part of the small institute is ghostly silent, packed with storage rooms and empty cupboards. With my knife clutched in hand, I take the lead. We studied the floor plans meticulously while Theo was busy stirring up a media shitstorm.
Unlike Blackwood, Harrowdean’s experimental wing lies beneath a disused dormitory. It’s approximately half the size, but features observation rooms along with ancient solitary cells. The architecture is a lot older, keeping the pre-existing design of the asylum.
“Can you hear that?” Hudson asks as we race through the corridors.
Pausing on the threshold of a glamorous, refurbished reception area lit with chandeliers, we all strain to hear the distant roar. Too many voices to count, screaming and shouting, like an almighty brawl is taking place. We’re too far from the front gates for it to be the protest.
“Patients?” I hedge.
“They are supposed to be locked down,” Hudson observes.
Kade glances out of a window, his face lit by the glow of the quad lights. “Not so much. Take a look at this.”
All gathered, we peer out at the disaster. Harrowdean’s patients are far from locked down in their rooms. Something obviously went wrong. In the generous space of the tree-lined quad, a mob is forming. Fists fly and patients brawl, spilling blood and tears across the cobbled stone.
Some are yelling and wrestling, while others simply watch the chaos unfold. The few remaining guards not dealing with Theo’s pals from the press are attempting to tame the wild animals and failing.
“Where are they?” I scan the crowd.
Kade points across the quad, towards the distant lights. “That’s Kingsman dorms. Decommissioned for patient use. Sabre’s research indicates the experimental wing is housed beneath it.”
“Only a sea of lunatics between us and them,” Hudson concurs.
“They aren’t lunatics.” I glance between them all emphatically. “Hell, these people are us. Trapped by a broken system. Powerless. Bullied. We’re better than the world that cast them aside.”
Out of them all, I don’t expect Eli to speak.
“N-Nobody… g-gets hurt.”
I take his trembling hand in mine. “Only Incendia.”
Cracking open the heavy doors, we slowly inch outside and stick close to the high stone walls of the main building. Floodlights have been slammed on to reveal the growing brawl, with a few more guards arriving to bring order to the mayhem. Linking hands, we begin to pelt through the crowd.
“Straight ahead, take a left,” Kade instructs.
With my gaze trained on the disused dormitory, I’m too late to spot an incoming blur of motion. Someone ploughs straight into my side, tackling me to the wet grass. Eli’s hand is ripped from mine as I fall.
“It’s too loud! No!”
A fist connects with my jaw, while a tangle of bones attempts to pin me to the ground. Grabbing the young girl by the shoulders, I use my strength to wrestle her aside. She can’t put up much of a fight, her stick-thin body soon becoming trapped beneath me.
“No! I’m scared, let me out!”
“Hey, hey,” I shout down at her. “It’s alright, I’m not one of them. You’re okay.”
“I want to go home! I want my mum… please…”
With the fight leaving her in an instant, she goes completely limp. Tears streak across her pale cheeks beneath a bush of tangled auburn hair in need of a good wash. Hudson attempts to offer me a hand up, but I shake him off.