Jack checked the corners of the ceiling to make sure there were no cameras. Seeing none, he stepped further in to the room to get a closer look.
As he approached the bed, he noticed the bland smell of antiseptic mixed with the vaguely acrid smell of iodine. Jack stood next to the bed and looked down on the man who had terrorized him the night before.
The pale skin was even paler, but it no longer made him look menacing, just sickly. The man’s features didn’t gel with the sinister image burned in his mind from the night before. An angular bone structure and a rounded chin made Huckley more pleasant looking than handsome. He had pale blonde hair, so pale that his face seemed to lack eyebrows. Jack had been hoping to find some sign of evil, something to point to, for his own piece of mind. A tattooed swastika on his forehead like Manson would have been great. Anything to prove that the night before had not been his imagination and that this man was evil. But there was nothing and that disturbed him. For the first time, Jack wondered if he could have misinterpreted what had happened last night. He leaned against the bed, both of his hands on the blanket even with Huckley’s chest. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head.
The fingers on Huckley’s right hand begin to twitch.
Lauren was likely done and looking for him by now. He knew she would be upset if she found out what he’d been up to, especially if she found out that he had told the on-duty nurse that she had asked him to check on Huckley. Sheriff Janney would have field a day with his clandestine visit. Jack could hear him now, spouting something about returning to the scene of the crime.
Huckley’s hand lifted off the blanket and hovered over Jack’s.
He had risked coming to the room for no good reason, he thought angrily. What the hell did he hope to accomplish here anyway? What was done was done. It was only a matter of time before they found the woman’s body. Then everyone would believe him. Sneaking into this crazy man’s room accomplished nothing.
Huckley’s fingers curled into a claw.
This guy was just some nutcake. End of story. The girls were fine. Just like Lauren told him, he had to focus on that. They were all fine. Life went on.
Jack opened his eyes just in time to catch a blur of motion as Huckley seized his wrist. The fingers were like metal bindings digging into his skin. Jack cried out. He pulled back, prying the fingers back with his free hand. Huckley lurched upright in the bed. His other hand ripped off the tubes attached to his body. He yanked on Jack’s arm and pulled him to the side of the bed so they were face to face.
Huckley’s mouth parted in a smile and yellow teeth poked through dry, cracked lips. His nostrils flared as if he were an animal smelling its prey. Jack struggled against the man’s grip, but it was impossible to break away. Huckley licked the air with lewd flicks of his tongue.
With his free hand, Jack swung a wild punch and landed it against Huckley’s jaw. A gash opened across Huckley’s face like a crack in dried ground. The wound was deep but no blood poured from it. Huckley’s mouth hung down at an impossible angle, his jaw broken.
Huckley shoved Jack away with both hands. Jack flew back from the bed and crashed into the far wall, barely staying on his feet. His instinct was to run to the door but he couldn’t move. He could only stare at what was happening in front of him.
Huckley stood on the bed, his clawed hands holding the sheet to his body. . With a flick of his hand, he threw the sheet down and exposed his naked torso. Dark sores covered his skin, circular purple splotches with black centers. A foul smell like rancid meat filled the room. Jack gagged at the stench.
Huckley laughed, thick guttural noises that gurgled with phlegm. He pointed at Jack and laughed louder; a mix of spittle and dark blood bubbled out of his mouth and dripped down his chin.
With his other hand, he stuck his finger into the black center of a sore, pushing it in one knuckle at a time until the entire finger had disappeared. Huckley worked the finger around in a circle with a wet, sucking sound.
Jack pushed his back against the wall behind him, as if he might push hard enough and climb into the wall and away from the monster in front of him. He wanted to close his eyes, but could not. He raised his arms to cover his face and gave into his horror. He filled his lungs and screamed.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Strong hands were on his shoulders. Jack felt hot breath against his skin. He lowered his arms. Sheriff Janney’s face was inches from his own.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“It was Huckley. He…” Jack looked over the sheriff’s shoulder at the hospital bed. Nate Huckley lay there hooked up to the thunk-thunking respirator and quietly humming monitors. The bed sheet was tucked in around him, smooth enough to roll a quarter across.
“He was what?”
Jack rubbed the side of his head and closed his eyes. In his mind, he could still see the open sores. He heard the laughter. But it wasn’t real. Just his imagination. He had to get a grip on himself. He opened his eyes and smiled. “Sorry. It’s been a tough one. Lack of sleep’s making me see things.”
“Let’s see you get on out of here,” Janney said. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Jack didn’t try to answer. He just nodded his head and went for the door. The nurse from the front desk stood in the hall, clutching her book to her chest. Jack nodded in her direction as he walked out of the room but the nurse stared down at the floor.
Served him right, he thought. After all, he had lied to her to get into Huckley’s room. He turned to say something, an apology, anything, but she looked horrified. That’s when it hit him. The nurse wasn’t mad, she was scared of him.
Jack wanted to say something to make it better, make her understand that he wasn’t the dangerous one. It was her patient in room 320 that she had to worry about. But everything he thought to say sounded crazy so he gave up and let Janney escort him to the elevator. The doors closed and he and Janney rode down in silence. Jack winced as he thought of explaining his little adventure to Lauren.
EIGHTEEN
The girls ran down the hall toward the exit to the parking lot. They had already said their good-byes to the nurses and now they were ready to go home. Lauren walked quietly next to him. And she wasn’t happy. Jack was trying to explain why he had gone the to Huckley’s room in the first place, but he couldn’t find the right words. And the more he tried, the more irrational the whole thing sounded.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone up there,” he finally said.
“You’re right about that,” she snapped. “You told the nurse that I asked you to go there. It’s so unprofessional.”
“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, still angry, but reached out and took his hand as they walked. “You’ve been through a lot. Maybe this thing shook you up more than you thought. You know, dragged out some old demons.” Jack didn’t meet her eyes. “They said you were screaming?”
“I wasn’t screaming.”
“They said—”