Grave Signs (Hellgate Guardians Book 4) Read online

  “You’re still young, Sable,” he says gently, the compassionate tone making my eyes rise to his face. “The mind is a powerful thing. Don’t give up hope.”

  I grind my teeth slightly before I start to tap on my inner elbow again. I pretty much lost hope at three years old, but I don’t tell him that. It’s his last day. He wants sunshine and roses, not hard truths and painful realities.

  “You and I both know I should never get out,” I remind him, holding his gaze with my gray eyes. “I was arrested and declared insane.” And with good reason.

  “The mind can heal,” he argues.

  “Not mine.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, and the only sound coming between us is that damn humming computer.

  “Can I go now?” I ask, suddenly feeling like these four plaster walls are closing in on me.

  He tilts his head. “You can go, but this is the last session we’ll have together.”

  I hop to my feet, and he gets up from his chair too. The good doctor always likes to walk me out like this is just a friendly chat rather than a mental wellness check. “Well, it was nice knowing you for four years, Doc,” I say, holding out a hand.

  He grasps my palm, shaking it lightly before he walks me to the door and opens it. “Take care of yourself, Sable,” he says, and my stomach constricts. He may not have been effective for me, but out of all the doctors I’ve ever had, he’s been the kindest. Too bad there wasn’t someone like him around when I was a kid.

  “You too, Doc.”

  I turn and walk out, the soles of my plain white tennis shoes tapping against the seafoam linoleum. I pass by the orderly station, quickly diverting my gaze when I see Nurse Anika there.

  “Going to your room?” she asks when she spots me walking by.

  I shoot her a glance, but I’m relieved when I see that she looks normal right now. I have to be careful with her and a couple other ones who work here too.

  It’s always the same people who trigger my hallucinations. I call them flickers, because that’s more or less what happens. Sometimes, Nurse Anika has blonde hair and blue eyes, but other times, she flickers and is covered head-to-toe in short silvery spikes, no hair to speak of, and dead puce-colored eyes. Luckily, I’m seeing the blonde-haired version today.

  “Yep,” I say without slowing down or stopping.

  I never linger around her when I don’t have to, and I always try to make sure we aren’t in the same room for too long. I never know when an episode is going to hit me.

  Sometimes, I can go days without having one. But the last thing I need is to get so caught up in my flickers that I panic and go catatonic. It can take me hours, sometimes even days, before I can pull myself out of the blackness that takes over. I don’t want to risk falling into that—not when I need to prepare myself mentally for the move. I can’t shut down. I need to be aware and ready for the changes that are coming. I’ll need to protect myself in the new place and be on guard.

  I keep my eyes trained on the ground as I make my way back to my room. I pass the common space and hear some judge show blaring on the TV, and Weston asking the others to play chess with him. He hasn’t had a lot of takers since Rose lost an eye to the queen in a fit of rage. All because she was beating him. I’m not even sure why they would give Weston back the pieces after he disfigured another resident with them, but we’re all pretty much throwaways here, so I guess no one could be bothered to care. It keeps him occupied, and that’s what really matters to the orderlies.

  After a quick walk down the hall, I reach the door to my room and walk inside, only to find my favorite nurse, Tyson, pulling the quilt his partner made me for Christmas off my twin bed and folding it up.

  “Hey, McLeany, what are you up to?” I ask, smiling at the Grey’s Anatomy rip-off nickname I gave to the tall, graceful nurse when I first met him.

  “Hey, Sabe the Babe, how was your last session with Dr. Gupta?” he answers back, not missing a beat. He folds the quilt and sets it gently in the open suitcase that I just noticed is spread out on the ground.

  My brow furrows as I spot my things in it, and I look up curiously. Tyson’s warm eyes feel like they wrap me up in a tender hug as they take me in, his ever ready smile already in place.

  “Looks like they’re springing you from the joint early,” he announces, gesturing to the suitcase I rolled behind me when I signed myself into this facility and decided I would never allow anyone to let me back out.

  “They?” I ask, a surprising hint of sadness in my tone.

  I truly don’t care about leaving Serenity Peaks. Dr. Gupta was always kind and worked very hard to help me in all the ways he could, but that’s because he couldn’t accept what I already knew—that there’s no hope for me. I’ve never made many friends amongst the other residents either, but admittedly, Nurse Tyson will be a hard one for me to leave behind.

  He’s one of those people that I think is actually an angel hiding in disguise. My illness should have flickered his wings into existence at some point over the four years I’ve known him, but oddly enough, I’ve never hallucinated Tyson’s angel wings. Doesn’t mean they’re not there though.

  He treats everyone he comes in contact with as though they’re the most precious thing he’s ever encountered, and what’s more, I’m pretty sure he truly believes it. He’s such a bright spirit that he could lighten the darkness of a black hole. Not even Nurse Anika flickers into her other self when Tyson is near. He has an uncanny ability to chase all the bad away simply by being.

  I’ve never had a family, which is the case for many residents that find themselves wards of the state. I was dropped off by my parents when I was three at a very different kind of hospital, and that was the last I ever saw of them.

  Their faces are fuzzy in my mind, as are some of the details of why they left me, but it’s not that hard to piece together what happened. Pointing out that you’re seeing things that other people can’t—sometimes very scary things—clearly didn’t go over well, regardless of how little I was.

  Residual abandonment issues are just another thing I have against me on my record. It’s gotten easier with time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them, either in anger, confusion, or sadness. You don’t just get thrown away to a mental ward and not have scars from it.

  But Nurse Tyson and his husband, Rick, make it their mission to adopt everyone in this place, including me. And despite my circumstances and my standoffish attitude, Tyson became a sort of friend to me here, and he’s taken the others under his wing as well. He and Rick celebrate our birthdays and make Christmas presents, they leave sweet notes randomly for all the residents, and they show us throwaways that someone cares. It’s been a magical experience to watch their light shine in such a dark place.

  Tyson says he and Rick will come and visit, but I won’t hold it against them if they don’t. I know they’re busy and there are so many people who need their love more than I do, but who knows, maybe I will see them again. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself when my awareness of how much I’ll miss them starts to creep up on me. I try so hard not to get attached to people, since that never ends well for me, but sometimes, there’s just nothing I can do about it.

  “Well, not they exactly,” he tells me, answering my previous question. “Only one doctor drove down to retrieve you, since you’re the only patient their facility is taking on, but I think you’ll like the view on the drive back, Sabe the Babe,” Tyson adds with a wink. “Richard looked up the facility, and he said it looks real nice. They can be unconventional in their methods, but that ain’t a bad thing if you ask little ol’ me.”

  I offer him a small smile and nod. “Yeah, Dr. Gupta said the same thing. I guess they have horses and other animals that they use for some therapies, so that could be nice,” I agree, moving to the bathroom and packing up my brush and small amount of toiletries.

  I don’t say that with my luck, I’d look at the horse and see some winged creature straight out of a
Harry Potter movie. Or one of those half-people dogs from The Hunger Games. Usually, my issues with seeing what isn’t there sticks to only people, but I haven’t spent much time around a lot of animals, so who knows what could happen?

  “You and Rick going to be okay after this place closes?” I ask as I come to dump my toiletries into the suitcase.

  I study Tyson’s face for any signs of stress or concern, but he just finishes packing the rest of my meager belongings and looks up at me with a comforting smile. “I’ve got my next gig all lined up, babe, so don’t you go worrying on my account.”

  I smile wider and drop my eyes to the floor. “They’ll be lucky to have you,” I declare quietly, hating the way my chest gets a little tight with the words.

  “You know it,” he teases, squeezing my shoulder affectionately as he passes by, my suitcase rolling in tow behind him.

  I turn and follow, not bothering to take one last look at the room I’ve spent the last four years of my life in. Dr. Gupta was right in his assessment. I’m young, but instead of hope for a new future to look forward to, all I have are many more years in rooms just like that one. I’m sure they’ll all look the same to me in the end.

  2

  “I’m gonna miss you, Sabe Babe. I’m not sure where I’m going to look to get my daily dose of beautiful anymore,” Tyson teases as we head into the elevator to go downstairs.

  “And the witty banter, don’t forget that,” I snark, falling right into the rhythm of our normal, easygoing interactions rather than looking at the unwelcome sadness blooming in my chest.

  I was supposed to leave on Saturday when Tyson was off. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of goodbye. Not today, anyway. I thought I had a week or so to soak up my fill. Now, I only have until the end of this elevator ride. How do you tell someone that they helped you find the brightness in a world that was otherwise dark and scary?

  Why are the meaningful things so hard to say?

  I cycle through a couple of options in my mind as Tyson cuts the awkwardness by telling me all about the hot dish of a doctor that’s come to pick me up. “I’m telling you, babe. He is a look. If I were single…”

  I snort and shake my head at Tyson’s wagging brows. “You said that about the pizza delivery guy, and he looked like an ex-hockey player.”

  “Hockey players are hot!” he argues.

  “He didn’t have any teeth,” I say, chomping mine.

  “Well, we can’t all be as gorgeous as you, babe,” he says with a wink.

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but wonder if this new doctor really is nice to look at. If it’s true, maybe it’ll be a nice distraction. I haven’t gotten to see many hot dishes in my life. But then again, I’m a new patient, so even if my chaperone really is Dr. McDreamy, it’s not like he’s going to see anything other than a crazy patient that he’s forced to escort to a new mental ward.

  When the elevator doors open to the main level, I follow a pleasantly chatty Tyson out. I’m still trying to activate my inner Hallmark card writer and put together some mushy things that I’ll wrap giant bows of gratitude around for Tyson and everything he’s done to keep me as sane as I could be here, but I’m not good at things like this.

  “Dr. Gupta left a script for something to help you feel calm on your drive, so if you feel like you’ll need that, you just say the word, babe,” Tyson tells me as he leads me to the intake lobby of the building. This part of the facility is open to visitors, with a garden out back and a rec room, so there are a few people milling around, other patients wearing similar plain sweatpants and cotton T-shirts like me.

  I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. “Tyson…” I start, my mushy greeting card ready and waiting to be voiced, but that’s as far as I get, because a large man steps forward and sucks all my attention and focus away like he’s some cosmic vacuum.

  My eyes flick down to the visitor badge, and I just know this is the doctor. Tyson was right. He is definitely something to look at, and he’ll be a distraction as I ride with him to my next home. But it won’t be the tan skin and muscular physique that gets me all hot and bothered. It’ll be trying to see him without the dark brown wings and jerky black snakes for hair.

  I suck in a breath, forcing myself to keep my eyes trained on his face as he smiles down at me. I’m going to have to work hard to blink away this flicker.

  Feeling frozen as I stand in front of him, I try not to flinch as I hold the gaze of his white eyes, pretending not to see the black slits he has for pupils as they contract on me.

  My heart kicks up a beat as all my worries for this new home come to fruition. Of course my luck would have my new doctor looking like a monster, or at least, he does until I can try to flicker the monstrous image away.

  How the heck am I going to do therapy with this guy?

  I breathe through the panic that ignites at the sight of him. He’s saying something to Tyson, and my nurse is looking at him with dreamy, appreciative eyes. I blink a couple of times while they’re both turned away from me, and try to convince my broken brain to see whatever it is Tyson is seeing.

  It’s not real, I tell myself, as though unseeing the snake-haired man in front of me is that easy. I should know better by now.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Tyson offers as they both turn toward the doors.

  A few of the other orderlies notice me and wave, but I’m too struck with worry to wave back. Gritting my teeth, I turn and follow them as they begin to walk outside. My eyes widen as I stare at the black snakes writhing on the back of his head, flashing me their yellow eyes and thick fangs. Go away, go away, go away, I chant, but I know that reasoning with my hallucinations never helps.

  “Where’s your van, Dr. Ophidian? I can help Sable get her things loaded and settled in for your trip,” Tyson says as the three of us step outside.

  Something about the doctor’s smile seems forced as it stretches wide across his face. “I parked around the side, but you’re too kind, I can take it from here,” he states politely.

  As I watch, one of his snakes starts to hiss and snaps out at Tyson. I gasp in shock and stumble back, pulling Tyson with me, and both he and the doctor look over at my stunned face with concerned confusion.

  Well, of course they’re confused. I’m the only one who sees it, but that doesn’t change the fact that my heart is racing, adrenaline is pumping through my body, and a black border is creeping into my vision.

  Oh no.

  I start to freak out even more. Which is the opposite of what I need to be doing. I know if I don’t calm down, the blackness will start to take over, and when that happens, it’s like my brain just shuts off.

  I’ve been told it’s a protective mechanism that I’ve developed for one reason or another. It forces my whole body to play possum without my consent, and the world around me just blinks in and out like some hellish strobe light designed to make me even crazier.

  I can’t let that happen. I need to stay with it and be aware, not fracture into myself. I dig my fingers into my palms as I curl my hands into fists, blowing out a breath. I’ve learned over the years to focus on my breathing and to look away from the winged delusion that’s setting me off. Sometimes, I can get the hallucination to go away, but when I glance back, all the snakes are still there, and the doctor’s creepy white and black eyes have a scary glint in them.

  Why does my brain want to make him look viciously eager?

  “What happened, Sable? What’s wrong?” Tyson asks me, stepping into my line of vision until all I can see is his soft dark skin and the warm concern in his eyes.

  I blink several times, trying to reset my vision and my head. It works sometimes, but it’s inconsistent at best.

  “It’s not right,” I tell Tyson quietly, at a loss for words that help me form coherent sentences that will explain what’s going on with me without admitting that I’m having an episode.

  He brings his hands up to my shoulders, and the touch helps to ground me more in reality. Tyson
dips down until his eyes are even with mine and stares at me for a beat. “Do you want something that will help take the edge off?”

  I can’t help but scoff a little. In any other circumstances, he’d sound like he was offering me a drink. I hate the medicine side of things since nothing I’ve ever taken has helped with the hallucinations. If anything, it makes me more susceptible.

  I don’t answer, but my panicked gaze bouncing in alarm between his dark brown eyes must be all the answer he needs. He nods and steps back, giving my shoulders another squeeze before dropping his hold. He digs into his pocket and pulls out an orange pill bottle with two pills inside, and hands them over. “Here you go, Sabe.”

  I give him a strained smile. I’ve come to resent all the medication I’ve been plied with over the years, but I know it’s just par for the course. At the very least, maybe this will make me sleep in the car, and then I won’t completely lose it.

  “Thanks,” I murmur as I open the top and tip it over before popping both pills and swallowing them down whole.

  My throat works as the pills go down, and Tyson gives me a reassuring nod before he looks over at Dr. Ophidian and pauses for a moment. “I just so happen to be off in twenty,” he says. “I’ll volunteer to ride up with the two of you and just make sure everything goes smoothly. I can help make sure Sable has an easy transition,” Tyson offers, and I could almost scream with relief.

  I can do this with him there. I can focus on him and his brightness and not the doctor and the hallucination that I can’t seem to blink away.

  Strangely, Dr. Ophidian sighs, losing the smile that was plastered on his face as he takes a step closer to Tyson. “You will leave now, finish your shift, and go home,” he states, his tone deep and layered with something that I can’t quite pinpoint. My illness has affected what I see, but something about the way he’s talking makes me feel like my ears might be an issue too, which scares me even more.