On the Edge of Humanity

HIGHLAND MEMORIAL HOSPITAL SPANNED FOUR city blocks. It was situated in an area of the city steeped in history with opulent mansions and shingle-style homes that overlooked Mt. Hope Bay.

We made it outside and the cold air stung my face, seeping into my lungs and burned as it filtered down. I gasped trying to catch my breath. As for my feet...

An empty police car sat parked at the curb next to a metal post that displayed a large red and white sign that read, No Parking. I shook my head a few times-cops get away with all kinds of crap.

The street was dark with the exception of a neon sign that hung from a medical supply building on the other side of the street. As I looked down the sidewalk to my left, the road ended with a security fence towering over the back of the hospital, and to my right a major street intersected with a traffic light at the corner.

"We'll go this way," Sam said, pulling me toward the traffic light.

"I can't breathe and my feet are on fire."

My bare feet were going to be frostbitten in about three minutes.

"Keep moving and you won't feel it."

"You have shoes on. What do you care?"

"Do you want to find out what happens when that guy shows up?" Sam pointed to the door we just came through.

I shook my head.

"I think the place is around the corner," he said.

I had no idea what he was talking about or where we were going. My face hurt, my lungs were on fire, the bandages around my chest were constricting my airways, and, oh, my feet were stuck to the frozen ground. Just what a girl wanted to do on a Friday night-run for her life.

Wherever we were going, I was praying that we would get there fast.

We walked at a brisk pace around the right side of the hospital, stopping at the edge of a long alley. Sam and I both glanced behind us before we continued. I took a deep breath then let it out. No vampire guy. I silently laughed at my reference to the bandana beast. Vampires don't exist. The absurdity of it made my lips curl at the edges.

"Something funny?" Sam asked.

"No." I didn't want to tell him I was thinking about vampires, at least not right now. I had to be sure it wasn't the effect of any drugs-or a dream.

Sam tugged on my arm and we began walking down the alley. A parking garage sat opposite the hospital building and, at this time of the night, there were a handful of cars parked on the first floor.

I surveyed the road ahead. Several doors punctuated the side of the hospital building. The first one was marked Employees Only. A yellow light sprayed down from above the door, casting a glow over its immediate surroundings and the keypad illuminated to the left of the frame.

As we passed the first door, a noise rustled near the dumpster. I stopped and Sam's hand slipped from mine.

"Come on, Jo," he whispered. "Keep moving."

He approached the dumpster and stepped around it. "It's nothing," he called out.

I walked faster and dodged the loosely formed ice patches that dotted the alley ground, letting out a screech every time my bare feet broke the thin layer of ice. As I made it to where Sam was standing, my right foot landed in an ice puddle. I squealed and jumped to a dry spot ahead of it. The pain from my ribs took over and I almost fell. After catching a burning breath, I continued limping behind Sam.

I prayed we would get to a warm spot soon. My feet couldn't handle much more.

The second and third doors didn't say anything at all. Sam tried one and then another. They were both locked.

"Why are we going back into the hospital?" I asked.

"I'm looking for where they keep the heating system," Sam said.

"Why?"

"Hurry. Follow me." Sam stood in front of a door marked, Boiler Room.

It was ajar with a piece of wood holding it open. Sam peeked around the back and said, "This is it."

We both walked in. Steam filtered up from the floor grates and the hot metal machine in front of us hummed loudly.

I walked to the right of the boiler and directly in front of me sat a desk with a mug with vapor rising out of it, on top of a coaster. I inhaled and the coffee aroma prickled my senses. Suddenly, my stomach growled. Sam had disappeared behind the big metal machine. I stayed next to it, waiting for my feet to thaw from the warmth of the floor. Within minutes, my soles started to tingle and the blood slowly returned. I could wiggle my toes, which was a good sign.

While I waited for Sam, I walked back to the desk where it was quieter. I placed a hand on the side of the cup and glanced around. I grabbed for it.

"I wouldn't do that, young lady," a voice bellowed.

I jerked away from the desk as the man approached.

Sam trailed behind him. As they both reached the desk area, Sam said, "Jo, this is Neil. Do you remember him?"

"Huh? Am I supposed to?"

"Neil Foster, the janitor of our high school. He works here at night."

I dug around in my head and couldn't place him. I never saw a janitor at school. "Sorry, I don't."

"How ya feeling?" Neil asked.

I rolled my right shoulder. This guy wanted to chitchat while a large, fanged dude was chasing us.

"Sam, what're we doing? We need to get out of here."

"You don't remember Neil?" Sam asked.

The man wore a navy blue ball cap with bright yellow letters sprawled across the front that read, US Navy. A small diamond earring dotted his left ear and his starched shirt hugged his chest, revealing a muscular body. Not a bad-looking man. I would've remembered seeing him around school.

"Neil has been helping me. I explained to him what happened at the Birches'. When the doc and nurse left your room while you were still out of it, Neil was able to distract the cop for a few minutes while I snuck in so I could be there when you woke up," Sam said.

"Um, okay. But aren't you forgetting the dude chasing us? How do you know Neil isn't helping that guy?"

"Because I know Neil from school. We can trust him," Sam said, walking closer to me, his back facing Neil. "You're right, we do need to get out of here, but where're we going to go? You have any ideas?" Sam drew his eyebrows together. His forest green eyes were changing, shifting to a grayish black. His face turned a crimson red.

I stifled a gasp, covering my mouth with my right hand. Since when did his eyes change from forest green to black?

He edged closer to me. His eyes were now pitch black. So, this is what Dr. Case must've seen when my eyes were changing colors.

We stared at each other for a long minute. His black eyes reminded me of the blue-bandana guy. A shiver crawled up my spine.

Neil's voice broke our staring game. "If you still want my help, we need to get out of here."

The color of Sam's eyes slowly returned to forest green. I was worried about him. His short temper was getting shorter. I stood next to the desk wondering what was happening to both of us. Was it his anger, or perhaps any strong emotion, that triggered the color change? His eyes seemed to return to their normal color when his anger died. Now that I was thinking about it, Dr. Case did notice my eyes changing just after I freaked out about the blood. What was happening to us? And why now?

"I found your sister some shoes," Neil said. He handed me a pair of worn out sneakers that looked like a man's size ten. The Nike logo was torn off one shoe and the other had a rip in the toe.

"And one more thing," he said. "I just came down from the upper floors. I don't know what happened up there, but the nurses said some man came in and he and the cop tussled. The cop ended up unconscious. The nurse thinks the man kidnapped Jo. They're checking every room. It won't be long until they make their way down here." Neil took off his hat and rubbed his bald head. His eyes held a worried look.

Tussled wasn't the word I would have used. What I witnessed looked more like a one-way battle between a man and a beast, with the beast beating the shit out of the cop.

"Why would the guy want me?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I can at least get you out of here," Neil said.

Sam walked over to the sink behind us, fingers raking through his shoulder-length black hair. He grabbed the knob on the faucet and turned it. It spit a few times and water started running in the basin. Suddenly, I needed to use the bathroom.

I looked around and found the door adjacent to the sink. I went in and closed the door. A small mirror with a dirty film covering it was plastered on the wall above the sink. I pulled down one of the long sleeves of my sweatshirt and wiped it, clearing a small area so I could get a glimpse of myself. As I peered into it, an image of me came screaming back. My hair was stuck to my head with thick strands of dried blood matted together with dried blood. My bandage was reddish brown and my lip was swollen on the left. "What the..."

A bang on the door jarred me away from the mirror.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

"I'll be right out."

"Hurry, we need to go," Sam called out.

Now he wants to go. Isn't that what I've been saying all along?

I turned away from the mirror and took care of other business. I flushed the toilet then washed my hands, keeping my eyes glued to the sink. I didn't want to look at myself again. When I opened the door, I found Sam standing near a lab bench, reading a sheet of paper. Neil was rummaging through a locker outside the bathroom door.

"Zombies look better than me," I said as I pointed to my face.

Sam chuckled. That was the first time I'd heard him laugh in a long time. With my luck, joining in would only cause my stitches to burst.

My eyes gravitated from Sam to Neil, who was squatting with his hands buried in the locker and I froze. On the back of Neil's neck just below his ball cap was a tattoo. It was some sort of symbol. It looked like a monogram constructed from the letters 'P' and 'L.' I wondered if Neil's tattoo were similar to the one Dr. Case had. What would be the odds they both had the same tattoo? Were Neil and Dr. Case part of a gang or group? An ominous prickle skittered up my legs. I was beginning to think that maybe we couldn't trust Neil.

"We need to go," Neil said as he rose and stuffed a flashlight into a blue backpack.

As the three of us walked out, a two-way radio blared above the hum of the boiler.

We walked through the first floor of the garage building. The backs of my feet sprang out of the Nikes that Neil had given me, but the shoes were still better than walking in my bare feet.

Sam's head kept darting from left to right, occasionally turning around to scan the area behind him. Neil walked briskly with his car keys in his hand, ready to unlock the doors.

I looked out into the night. The wind and falling snow seemed to be in a battle against each other. As I walked, trying to keep up with Neil, I read the blue signs that named the owners of each parking space. It appeared this floor was dedicated to the doctors of the hospital. The first car I passed belonged to a Dr. Angus Silva. Dr. Silva drove a gold Porsche with dark-tinted windows. His neighbor Dr. Lowenstein was AWOL tonight. I imagined he had the night off. The next space was home to a black Corvette. My eyes raked over the sleek hood as the overhead lights sprinkled a glow that lit up the blue speckles of paint, making the car appear more blue than black. As I admired the sexy curves of the car, my gaze landed on the license plate that read Case-96. I looked up and the blue sign above stated the car belonged to Dr. Leroy Case.

I wanted to laugh. To me, Dr. Case didn't look like a Leroy; he looked more like a nervous Nelly. I was immersed in my own thoughts when I caught a glimpse of a man in the distance standing against a black SUV. I squinted in his direction. He was staring directly at me.

The hairs on my arms rose and a chill crept up my legs. He wore a black knitted cap; his face looked as if he hadn't shaven in days. Our eyes connected as he tilted his head to one side. Another chill infused every pore inside me.

I turned towards Sam. "Look behind me. There's a man leaning against a SUV. Is that the guy from the hospital?"

Sam peered around me. "What man?"

I spun around. The black SUV was still in its parking space, but the man was gone.

It couldn't be the blue bandana guy, unless he changed his bandana to a hat. No, the man I just saw wasn't as tall.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"There was a man standing there." I scanned the area and didn't see anyone. I started to walk in the direction of the black SUV when distant sirens stopped me. Maybe that man was an undercover cop or he was working with the fanged dude. I ran toward Neil, lungs burning, ribs aching.

Neil pushed the key fob. Two beeps echoed around us. The headlights flashed on and all the interior lights illuminated inside.

I grabbed the handle of the rear door when Sam approached. He scanned the area one last time before he climbed into the front seat of Neil's red four-door Dodge Ram truck.

I stepped onto the running board and jumped into the back. The buttery leather seats immediately sucked me in. Neil started the truck. The radio came on, and the engine began to purr. I sat back and sighed.

I peered through the dark-tinted windows at where the man had been standing, but there was still no one there. Once the truck rolled out of the garage, I rested my head against the backseat. With the exception of a car or two passing, the streets around us were deserted as we traveled north on Robeson.

Safe for the moment, I closed my eyes, drifting off, lulled by the hum of the tires. My body relaxed as the heat from the truck's vents warmed the air. What a screwed-up two days this had been. How had my life spiraled so far out of control? It seemed danger lurked in every dark corner, waiting to jump out at me. What was next?

As the car moved, I opened my eyes and stared out the window, admiring a soft blanket of snow covering the budding trees that dotted the road's edge. It wasn't unusual for snow to be falling in early April in New England. I took another mental snapshot of the passing landscape. We were driving toward the Fall River State Forest. Where was Neil taking us? I started tapping my foot underneath Sam's seat.

The Fall River State Forest was an area of town that no one wanted to be in after dark. It was located just on the outskirts of the city and only a couple of main roads led into and out of the forest.

I peered around Sam's seat and out the windshield. Neil had the high beams on and the lights irradiated the piles of snowdrifts along the road embankments. Every now and then a pair of yellow eyes glowed, peeking through the trees.

"Is this Blossom Road?" I asked.

"Yep. We're almost on the other side," Neil replied.

"Where are you taking us?" I leaned forward, so I could hear him over U2 blaring on the radio.

As he turned down the sound, he said, "My parents have a place they're not using in Westport. You guys can hunker down there for the night."

"Westport?" I kicked my foot under Sam's seat again.

"What're you doing?" Sam turned around. "Stop worrying."

"Yeah, right. Coming from my brother whose middle name is Paranoid. How're we going to get back?" I asked.

"Get back to where?" Sam asked. "We're not going back to Hilda's. We'll need to figure out our next move in the morning."

Sam was right. Where were we going to go? I wasn't going anywhere near Hilda or the hospital, not with that creepy fanged dude lurking around.

"I'll be staying not too far from you. I'll pick you up in the morning and I can help with whatever you need," Neil offered.

Oh, I bet he could. I still didn't trust him. I was curious as to why he was being so helpful.

"Why're you so nervous, Jo?" Sam asked. "You've been listening to all that nonsense at school about murders taking place in the forest?"

"Well, it's true, isn't it? They did happen."

Sam and Neil just looked at each other. They knew I was right.

Sometime in the mid-Seventies, a brutal murder took place on the reservation where the police found a fifteen-year-old girl tied to a tree. Ever since then the State Forest had been the site of several other crimes. High school kids were always having weekend parties in the forest. On Monday mornings, the school courtyard always buzzed about how great the party was.

I sat back and hoped that our final destination tonight was better than spending it in the hospital or being chased by some predator with long teeth. But something didn't feel right. Why would the janitor of our school help us?

I leaned back and listened to John Mayer belt out "Your Body is a Wonderland." I silently chuckled as I listened to the lyrics. The one thing I knew right now was that my body was not a wonderland. In fact, when I looked in the mirror earlier, I saw a wasteland.

Before long, the truck slowed. We were turning onto a driveway. Neil shifted the truck into park. The neighborhood had several homes along one side of the street. Each one looked deserted. But it was one o'clock in the morning and it was difficult to get a clear idea of the area with the blowing snow.

As I stepped out of the car, a For Sale sign on the front porch caught my eye. Just beyond the sign beneath the bare bulb of the porch light, a plaque was nailed to the wall. I read the sign and my jaw dropped, practically touching the ground.

Foster and Sons Funeral Home, est. 1962.

I took a hesitant step forward when Sam grabbed my arm.

"Not yet," he whispered.

It was evident that Sam was not comfortable with the choice.

"Why here, Neil?" I asked.

"Well, for one, it's a good distance from the hospital. Besides, nobody will find you here and it has heat and electricity.

I bet no one would find us here; it was what I was afraid of. The newspaper headlines would read, Dead Bodies of Twin Siblings Found in Abandoned Funeral Home.

"But a funeral home?"

"Better than the alternative, right?" Neil said, walking up the front steps.

What alternative was he talking about? Getting kidnapped or another foster home?

Great, I'm going to sleep with the dead tonight.

The tall streetlights, which lined the edges of the sidewalks, lit up the surrounding area. A local park dominated the block across the street with an ice rink covered in a thin layer of snow. It wouldn't be too much longer before the ice rink turned into a roller hockey rink.

Sam and I were taking mental snapshots of the area when Neil waved to us.

"Sam. Jo," he called out. "We need to get inside."

The funeral home sat on a corner lot with a path from the sidewalk to the front porch, which led visitors to the entrance of the home. Sam walked along the driveway while I circled around the front of the truck.

"Sam, where're you going?" I asked.

My brother had a suspicious nature about him and sometimes it drove me nuts. I couldn't complain, though. His doubtful nature kept us out of trouble most of the time.

"I'll be right there," he said.

When I reached the door, Sam came walking up the path planting his footprints in the virgin snow.

"So, Mr. Paranoia, you satisfied?" I asked.

"For now," he replied.