Read Sanctum Page 17


  “Dan, slow down,” Abby said, “slow down. . . .”

  “He wanted control. That was always the goal. That was it all along, I wanted to control people, unlock their true potential as interpreted by me.”

  “Dan!” She was almost shouting now. Abby leaped up out of the chair and crossed to him, grabbing his forearm and shaking. “Dan! Stop!”

  “What?” Dan was out of breath. They stared at each other in tense silence, and then Abby shook his arm, this time more gently.

  “You’re talking in first person. Can’t you hear yourself? I did this. . . . I wanted that. . . .”

  That was irrelevant. She was interrupting his line of thinking, and he had to keep the thread. He had to write it all down before he forgot.

  “That’s not the point,” Dan muttered, avoiding her gaze.

  “Yes, it is, Dan. Yes, it is the point. I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a crap what ‘Warden Crawford’ did forty years ago. I care about us, Dan. I care about my aunt Lucy. I care about the people who are still alive, and I came back here to this miserable place so we could all get better and move on with our lives. But you’re not getting better. You’re turning into someone else.” Trembling, she took a step back, as if frightened of who was looking back at her.

  “I’m me,” he said, exasperated. “Daniel. Daniel Crawford. I’m . . . me!”

  “Dan Crawford,” she said. It was almost a whisper, and hoarse.

  “What?”

  “Dan. You never call yourself Daniel.”

  Dan felt the wind go out of his sail. He’d become so obsessed with uncovering all the lives the warden had ruined with his influence, he’d lost sight of how he was affecting the lives of the two people who mattered most to him in the world. If he kept this up, they wouldn’t have a friendship, they’d have a shared trauma—one that held them together like a lock that had rusted over.

  “Damn it,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. “You’re right. I have to keep us separate.”

  “From now on we should take some precautions,” she said, still keeping her distance. “Jordan’s coming back with bottled water. Maybe we should only eat and drink things from the vending machines. We’re not here much longer, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Dan said. “We can stock up tonight.”

  “Dan . . . Even if there is ‘something in the water,’ or whatever, I have to say that for all the nightmares and the voices and stuff, Jordan and I have never experienced anything close to what’s happening to you.” Abby tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with a sigh. “I’m not trying to poke holes in your theory. . . .”

  “I know. And you . . . you’re right about that. It’s not a perfect explanation.”

  Jordan appeared at the door, his arms laden with bottled waters, Diet Mountain Dew, three bags of chips, and an enormous box of Twizzlers.

  “What?” he said at the combined force of their staring. “I’m a growing boy. Here.” He tossed them each a water. “Yikes. You could cut the tension in here with a knife. What’s going on?”

  “Dan thinks someone might be trying to drug us,” Abby explained, smoothing down the front of her sweater. Dan silently thanked her for glossing over his outburst. “So from now on, we’re only going to eat and drink things that are prepackaged.”

  “Wow.” Jordan slid back into his desk chair and ripped open a bag of Doritos. “That’s . . . that’s a lot to swallow. But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

  “I think maybe this whole thing is bigger than the asylum,” Dan added. “Maybe even bigger than the college.”

  Jordan positioned the open bag of chips above his face and shook until a little avalanche of nuclear orange triangles fell into his open mouth. He reached for his Diet Mountain Dew and went back to reading the MKUltra Wikipedia entry.

  On the floor, Dan’s phone buzzed, shimmying across the carpet. He scooped it up and squinted down at the glowing screen.

  He had a text message. From Micah.

  They know ur in Erickson. Get out now.

  The phone buzzed in Dan’s hand. Another message arrived, this time from an unregistered number.

  We see you

  Before he could tell the others, Jordan let out a whining “Heeey. What gives? This thing just shut off. . . .” He smacked his palm against the monitor. Dan froze, watching as every monitor in the lab switched off, one by one, the screens going blank.

  “We need to go,” Dan whispered. “Now.”

  “Go where?” Abby cried, kneeling to pick up the pictures and cards.

  “Grab whatever you can carry,” he said, shoving his phone away. “I have an idea.”

  “This had better work,” Jordan whispered, fidgeting in the hedge next to Dan. “This goddamn stupid fern is getting to second base. . . .”

  “Shhhh.” Abby was hidden somewhere to his left, invisible behind a thick row of overgrown juniper bushes.

  The temperature had dropped steadily, and now, wedged behind a shrub with damp leaves brushing his face, Dan struggled to keep his teeth from chattering. He hugged the journal and notes to his chest. If he shivered, if he breathed, it might be enough to give away their hiding spot.

  The minutes stretched on. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the warning message was just that, a warning, and nobody would come. Dan decided he would give it another five minutes. If nobody came, then they would have to come up with another plan.

  Trembling, miserable, Dan was about to call it off when he heard the squeak of sneakers shuffling across the wet grass. One cloaked figure, then two, followed by two more . . . All told, six people showed, hidden under heavy red capes and skull masks. Dan shrank back as one of the leering masks turned toward him. It was impossible to tell if the guy saw him hidden there in the bushes.

  Finally, the Scarlets went into the dorm. Dan didn’t dare exhale until the door shut behind the last one.

  “It’s really them,” Abby whispered. “The Scarlets. I wonder how many there are.”

  “If you start counting alums, there could be hundreds. Maybe thousands.”

  “You’re starting to sound like my history teacher,” Jordan said. “And I’m freaked out that it’s beginning to sound like sense.”

  “They’ll be back soon,” Dan reminded him. “Let’s stay quiet.”

  Not ten seconds later, the door of the dormitory burst open with a bang. Dan huddled closer to the ground, watching as three of the six red-robed students emerged. The person in front was tall, probably male, and he stalled right under the lamp, looking in every direction. Jordan tapped Dan on the shoulder and then pointed. Dan followed Jordan’s finger through the branches and leaves to the pavement and a pair of boat shoes.

  “Come on!” Cal’s voice boomed across the lawn and the paths. “They’ll be done checking the other exits. You idiots. How did you let those morons get away? You!” He strode forward and shoved one of the other Scarlets. “You warned him, didn’t you?”

  “Back off, I didn’t do anything.”

  Dan’s heart sank—it was Micah’s muffled voice behind one of the ugly masks.

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Cal shoved him again, harder. “If you’re lying, you know what she’ll do to you, and this time your weird magic grandpa won’t be enough to save you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Micah pushed back, his fists thumping on Cal’s chest.

  Cal ignored the push, standing his ground. “She’s been putting this together for years, you idiot. Mess this up now, and she’ll ruin your life. Doubt the college will want to keep you around when they know what really got you sent to juvie.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about it,” he shot back, getting in Cal’s face.

  “Theft, right? That’s what you tell everyone? What a joke. You’re a joke.”

  “You need to shut up right now,” Micah growled, shoving Cal again. “Right. Now.”

  “No wonder you work so hard to be everyone’s best bud.?
?? Snorting, Cal turned his back on Micah and took a few steps toward the bush concealing Jordan. “Think everyone would still kiss your ass if they knew you got drunk and plowed into a tree? What was the poor girl’s name? Julie? Jessie?”

  Micah swung, hard, and Cal just managed to dodge out of the way.

  “Careful,” Cal warned, clucking his tongue softly. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

  Grunting and gasping for air, Micah backed away, hands in the air. His shoulders slumped as the fight leaked out of him. “I didn’t do anything, Cal. Back off.”

  “We’ll see. Tell your dumbass ex she better stay in line, too, or she’ll have to wake up, got it?”

  “Leave Lara out of this,” Micah rumbled.

  The three missing Scarlets returned, and then all six of them left down the path, walking and then running. Dan held up his hand, signaling for his friends to wait. If they left the shelter of the bushes too early they’d be spotted, and he didn’t want to find out what the Scarlets would do to them if they were discovered.

  The Scarlets were almost across the quad and out of sight when Dan crawled out from his hiding place. Abby tumbled out of the juniper bush across the path from them and brushed the stray leaves from her coat.

  “I hate saying this, but we have to follow them,” Dan said.

  Jordan glanced between him and Abby quickly. “We’ll be completely outnumbered!”

  “We can lag behind so they don’t notice us. Jordan, we have to hurry!” Abby said, breaking into a run. “They’re almost gone.”

  Together, they ran up the path leading from the dorm, following the direction the robed figures had gone. Dan could just make out a flutter of red disappearing around a corner ahead and to the left. He didn’t want to make too much noise, but he hazarded a few breathless words.

  “I bet I know where Felix’s last coordinate goes,” he huffed. “They’re going to lead us right to it.”

  Clinging to the shadows and whatever trees they found along the way, they followed the six robed figures north and then west of the campus. Dan had never gone this far on foot from the school, and when he glanced over his shoulder the steeple of the campus chapel was no longer visible. The modest houses clustered around the school gave way to larger, more expensive houses in a well-manicured neighborhood.

  They had less cover to hide behind now, with each row of shrubs trimmed down to uniform cubes. House after house, Dan tried to time their dashes between cover, watching to make sure no cars were passing and none of their targets lagged behind.

  Part of him didn’t want to believe what Cal had said about Micah, but why else would someone like him fall in with a cult? Even Dan could see the temptation—join the Scarlets and have a stain on your past wiped clean. Hadn’t Micah even said he was here on scholarship?

  At last Cal and his cohorts turned up the lane to a three-story mansion. The house looked like it had been cut from one enormous block of gray stone. Unlike the other houses in the neighborhood, which had all gone dark except for the occasional porch light, this house was completely lit up. Every window glowed with a red candle in the sill. Even from a distance Dan could make out the shape of the candles. Skulls.

  He had seen a candle just like those in Micah’s room, and one at the house party.

  “Is this like a meeting hall or something?” Abby mused aloud, crouching close to Dan. They hid behind a cluster of perfectly round bushes. A few of the berries from the bush had overripened and fallen, staining the grass red at their feet.

  “I don’t see any cars,” Dan said. “And this is pretty far from campus. . . .”

  “Since whatever we’re about to do will probably get us killed, I want to go on record now saying I was right about the boat shoes,” Jordan whispered.

  “Fine. Okay. You were right about the shoes,” Dan said. “We’re all very proud.”

  “What is the plan?” Abby asked urgently. “We can’t just go strolling up to the front door.”

  “There isn’t a plan. We just need to get close enough to take a look inside. When we do, we might be able to see who else is one of them.”

  “And if they don’t take off their masks?” Abby peered around the edge of one of the bushes, chewing her lower lip.

  “Then we’ll have to think of something else,” Jordan said. “At least we’ll get an idea of how many weirdos we’re dealing with.”

  “Let’s try the back,” Dan murmured, inching forward. “We can take the driveway wide and stay away from the windows.”

  “I don’t know about this. . . .” Abby fiddled with her mittens, rocking back and forth on her heels. “We’re going to be totally outnumbered. Maybe we should wait until morning. They’ll be gone for the most part and then we can see if the house has any doors Jordan can unlock.”

  They didn’t have time to argue, not now, not when they were this close.

  “I have to see this through, Abby,” Dan said finally. “Felix said to follow, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “But there are other ways we could—”

  “No, Abby, this is it. You can stay behind if you want, but I’m going to get a closer look. I want to know who’s after us. I want to know exactly who we’re up against.” He was freezing and frightened, and rapidly losing his patience. Why didn’t she understand? He didn’t like the idea of this any more than she did, but liking didn’t enter into it.

  The warden and his legacy and whoever was a part of it would never leave them alone until they dismantled the twisted system he had put in place.

  “But Dan, if we wait—”

  “I just want it to end, Abby. That’s all I want, to know how to fix this once and for all.” Dan wasn’t waiting any longer. They could follow him or they could stay put, but he wasn’t hesitating another second.

  He darted out from behind the bushes, skirting the driveway, jogging past it, and then turning to run up parallel to the pavement. The house loomed closer, taller than he had originally thought. It was cold, featureless, just a stone rectangle with evenly spaced windows and a sober slate roof.

  When he reached the end of the drive, he was standing opposite the front door, with an empty three-car garage to his right. There was a gap between the house and the garage and he sprinted for it. When he rounded the corner of the house he pushed himself up against the wall, waiting there to catch his breath.

  The moment Abby and Jordan appeared, crowding his side, Dan felt a wave of guilt wash over him. The stress and fear were making him hot-tempered and impatient, and his friends didn’t deserve that. It had been his idea to come back to this place. He was the one the Scarlets were after. But still, his friends followed him.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as they regrouped against the house. “I just . . .”

  “I get it. It’s not like we could walk away from this,” Abby replied. “Not really.”

  “Well, whatever we’re doing, can we hurry it up? My toes are going numb and this place is giving me the creeps.”

  Jordan was right. They were already wasting too much time. Dan led them toward the window a few feet ahead. It was low enough that if he didn’t duck, the top of his head would be visible from inside. All three of them crept below the bottom edge of the window, and then Dan turned, his hands freezing and stiff, and carefully rose up until he could just see in.

  Luck was on his side, but he held his breath, signaling to the others that they could look.

  On the other side of the window was a long, tall room with a gleaming wooden floor. A chandelier with red candles hung in the very center, and the hot wax running into the silvery catches looked like thick rivers of blood. Red-caped figures, at least a dozen, formed a semicircle around a high-backed chair. Dan’s grip on the windowsill tightened. He recognized the chair. It looked almost exactly like the one in the frat house basement.

  “What are they saying?” Abby breathed in his ear.

  She was right, they were chanting something in a low hum that built, louder and lo
uder until Dan could finally make out the words.

  “They built it out of stone. . . . They built it out of stone. . . .”

  Why did that seem so familiar?

  On the right half of the semicircle he spotted Cal’s boat shoes, but nobody was removing their hoods. When the chant grew loud enough to actually shake the pane of glass in front of his eyes, the words cut out abruptly. An open doorway on the right side of the room flickered with shadow, and then another red-robed figure entered, followed by three others.

  “Isn’t that . . . ?” Jordan murmured.

  She hadn’t bothered wearing a mask or hood.

  “Yes.” Dan recognized her instantly—the short dark hair, the gap-toothed smile. “Professor Reyes. And I’ve seen that tall guy on campus. I think he’s another professor. The blond woman was at the carnival. Kelly something. God, she was campaigning for state senate.”

  “I can’t believe this. . . .” Abby shook her head, glancing away.

  Dan smiled, grim. “I can.”

  She walked solemnly to the chair and stood behind it. Around her neck, a shard of red stone flickered, dancing in the candlelight.

  “That’s it,” Dan whispered. “That’s the gem he kept writing about. It’s the warden’s.”

  “How did she get it?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she was his protégé.”

  “Or his victim,” Jordan suggested softly.

  Professor Reyes propped her hands on the back of the chair, taking a long moment to look around at those assembled. They were in danger of being spotted now, with the window facing her directly. Dan hoped the bright lights inside would make it more difficult to see into the darkness outside, but just in case, he lowered his head a fraction.