I needed a real plan. I had just lied to Courtney and Aubry. I hated lying. I had already messed up, but you know what, none of that would matter if I could figure something out before dinner.
With the girls on board I had a shot to get the answers I needed to save Sharon, and all of the other patients.
If I was lucky, maybe I’d find information on this Wyatt guy too. But to be honest, that was extra credit at this point.
I already had plans to focus on him tomorrow after they let me out. Hopefully Murph had found something while I was locked up here.
The staff split us up after lunch for what they referred to as the afternoon visitation period. It seemed like a fancy way of saying a nap time for those of you without family.
While some patients went to the visitation area to reconnect with loved ones, the rest of us were shuffled off and locked in our rooms.
Luckily, being under temporary care meant I wasn’t allowed visitors. That was fine with me. I had no desire to talk to my parents until I was forced to. I tried to imagine how disappointed they were going to be once they saw me again.
It was completely out of character for me to run from that hospital. Well, at least it was for old Joe from a week ago. My new life was probably almost as hard for them as it was for me.
Yeah, there was absolutely no way that conversation would go well for me.
Nope, not happening. Not today. Maybe they could lock me up in here for a few more days.
Either way, both of my roommates had people who cared enough to visit them. That was ideal for me. This whole situation felt almost suspiciously perfect.
I better not question it. With a little under an hour of uninterrupted laptop time, this would probably be my only shot to learn something before my time was up. That wasn't a lot of time.
I pulled out the laptop and clicked open the readme file. I skimmed through the notes. This time I decided to focus strictly on Marcellus. Maybe his story would help me get the answers I needed.
I did a quick control F to find his first passage. I wanted to start at the beginning this time so I could understand his story.
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> "I highly doubt any of ya'll reading this chose this life. Yeah, me neither. I guess there's no use crying over spilt milk.
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> For me, this was just a simple case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
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> I had finally signed on for my first stable route, delivering goods for a regional produce company. It was a route which took me past the Chester Bridge, that ran across the Mississippi river. I was relieved to have that consistent money coming in.
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> Plus, the old timers always preached about consistency being a trucker's best friend.
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> Having stable money for the first time in my life truly did feel like a blessing. But as much as I loved the idea of that weekly paycheck, I had a bad feeling about this new gig.
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> The day had started like a busted can of biscuits. Just found out some disappointing personal news, plus there were big storms rolling in from Kansas City. It was bound to be a bumpy night.
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> The good news was that big storms meant light traffic. Much rather deal with rain than people. There ain’t nothing better than a nice quiet drive on an empty road.
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> I had been about five hours into my route, doing my best to dodge the storms that were wrecking nearby towns when I saw a woman standing on top of the Chester bridge.
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> Now, my momma, she raised me to be a good christian man. When I saw that young lady on top of that bridge looking to jump, well I couldn’t just drive by. I had to get her off that ledge. I had to save her poor soul.
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> That was right around a week ago now, and while I’d love to tell you this all had one big happy ending, you know that’d be a lie, and I ain’t a lying man.
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> Now, I’ve got this dang devil book I can’t seem to get rid of and the spirit of the woman that seemed to come along for the ride.
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> It feels like I’ve been punished for not doing more to save her and having impure thoughts about just driving away that night. But I know this isn’t his will.
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> No, there ain’t no way this is the lord's work. Only something purely evil could have come up with a punishment like this.
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> As for the woman, she looks more lost than a goose in a hailstorm.
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> I’ve seen a lot during my time on the road. Laced out men high on meth bent over in the streets, drivers trafficking drugs and people across state borders, and heck, even saw a pony show once by accident. I would not recommend it.
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> All that to say, I’ve never seen something worse than what this woman is going through, and for what? Nothing.
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> She couldn’t handle the gig. I know I’ve only been a week on the job so far, but I already know, thanks to her, that there ain’t no easy way out.
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> This is my life now. Lord guide me.”
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> Marcellus, June 3rd, 1977
I sat there, staring down at the page, trying to piece together what Marcellus was talking about.
So the girl on the bridge must have been the previous owner. There was only one log attached to her name.
It was dated just over a week before Marcellus' post.
I read it aloud under my breath to the best of my ability.
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> “El capítulo final. Hasta que vuelva a tus brazos, mi amor.”
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> Maria, May 26th, 1977.
I sure wish I had paid more attention in my Intro to Spanish class. I recognized the word final and I’m pretty sure that mi amor meant my love.
But beyond that? I was in the dark. My best guess was that she saw a protector stuck to her when she got the power, probably a loved one and that was too much to take. If I was right, that would have been an awful story. At least I never knew Nicole before I met her ghost.
This wasn’t fair to Maria, who had clearly suffered in her own way and wasn’t fair to Marcellus, who just tried to be a good person.
Hell, it wasn’t fair to me either.
At least they were both adults who’d lived long enough to start a life and a career. Me? I was just a stupid kid caught up in this nightmare.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Oh fuck. Were there people even younger than me in this book? The mere possibility twisted my stomach into knots. No kid should have to deal with this kind of bull shit. Not now, not ever.
But if I’ve learned anything by now, it’s that death doesn’t give a damn about what should happen. No one should be in this situation at all. Let the spirits move on! What are they even here for?
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the words on the screen. No, not now. I yanked my hoodie sleeve up to my face, wiping away the moisture.
"Get it together, Joe," I whispered, teeth clenched. “You don’t have time for a breakdown right now.”
I took a deep breath. I had to remember that everyone in this file was most likely already dead and had moved on.
Worrying about the ones who came before me wouldn’t change a thing. This was my time, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I still had a job to do.
I focused back on Marcellus’s passages. I tried to quickly scroll through it to gauge the length.
Oh man, he had written a ton during his time. There was probably only so much you could do in the seventies while on the road.
His next few entries were pretty ordinary. They mostly covered his first mission. In a selfish, terrible way, I felt a little relief. Marcellus had failed his first mission too. At least I wasn’t alone.
Ok, this was going to take way more time than I had available. I was in a time crunch.
Maybe if I just searched the passages for the terms woman and bridge, I would be able to get what I needed. That seemed like my best bet for now.
I typed the words into the search bar. There were a handful of passages that contained one or both of those words. I should have enough time to read all of those.
With that thought, I kept reading, desperately hoping to stumble across something useful. This specific passage started off heavy.
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> "Father forgive me. I killed a man today.
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> Not just any man, the man that raised me. The man that got me a job in the trucking industry. The man I once called my best friend.
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> Although my body did the damage, it was not me. I swear on my life. The devil himself took control.
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> Some primal rage had unleashed from inside me. I had no memory of what happened next.
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> When I helped him unload the back of his truck and I found those three young women… I knew what he had done.
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> Like that woman from the bridge, they seemed lost. Their eyes stared straight into the abyss, like a calf staring at a new gate.
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> I've only met ghosts who were killed tragically with that look in their eyes. It's a look I hope most of you never see.
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> My vision went dark. When I woke, I saw his remains strewn out all over the floor.
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> The haze that fogged the girls memory seemed to vanish into thin air.
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> I watched as the life slowly returned to their eyes. It reminded me of my youth when one of us would come down off our high.
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> When one of the girls reached out and touched me, I saw everything he had done. Every gory detail.
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> I felt no sadness for the man I once knew. I’m not proud of what I did. But after what he did to those girls, I just hope one day I can be forgiven.
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> At least after that moment, they finally had the courage to pass on. I had become the sole holder of those terrible scars.
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> Mental scars that will haunt me the rest of my life.
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> He truly was a monster, and now I can't shake the fear that I might have become one too.”
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> Marcellus, September 19th, 1977
I set the laptop down.
He had to kill the man to get them to remember?
My hands trembled and my pulse quickened. My face was flushed, a bead of sweat rushed down the side of my cheek.
I reached toward my chest, I felt my heart race. Am I having a heart attack?
Aren’t I too young for one of those? My chest tightened. This must be a panic attack. I’ve never felt this way before.
"Breathe," I whispered, clutching at my chest.
"Breathe!" My lungs refused to cooperate. Why can’t I breathe?
Oh God...
No, no, no. I can’t kill Dr. Klanderman. I’m not a killer. I’m not some monster lurking in the shadows. I’m... not. I’m not. But the thought wrapped itself around my mind. I doubled over, my vision blurring.
I was going to pass out.
With desperate, fumbling fingers, I reached for the pillowcase. If I could use it like a paper bag maybe I could stop this feeling. I pulled it toward me. Shit, it was sewn shut.
FUCK!
Tears welled up, blurring my vision further. I wiped at them with my sleeve. I paused. My sleeve!
Quickly, I pulled the fabric over my nose and mouth, trying to mimic the effect of a paper bag. I took deep, measured breaths. Slowly my vision returned and I felt my pulse slow.
Holy shit, that was terrifying.
I had to find another way. I wasn’t a killer. That’s why there were people like Naomi. She was trained to kill people. She could pull the trigger if it came to that. I... I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to learn how.
I thought of Marcellus' story and the black outs I had been having. Were they related? Man, I sure hoped not.
At least for now, the black outs had been mostly innocent. Only mild home invasion. I had to do everything in my power to keep it that way.
I had to keep reading. There had to be a clue somewhere in his ramblings, something that would point to another way out of this mess. But how much time did I have left? The absence of clocks in this room really sucked.
I’m sure it’s fine. I picked the laptop back up. I had to keep going. The answers had to be here, buried somewhere in these passages.
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> “Today marks six months since the night she took her life.
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> Before today, I had purposely avoided driving over that bridge.
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> Going almost an hour out of the way to get to St. Louis.
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> However, I finally watched Roots. There was something about holding onto your past that gave me an idea to help make her remember.
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> If I found out more about her, maybe then, I could use that information to help her remember herself.
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> Plus, it was the right thing to do. While I'll never agree with her taking her own life, after six months on the job, I don't blame her for not being able to handle it.
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> This job is not for the faint of heart. She had to have a proper goodbye.
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> Seeing as I'm the only one who knows why she jumped, that made the decision easier than a hot knife through butter.
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> Unfortunately, that meant I had to man up and face what happened.
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> There was no car nearby that night, so she definitely walked to that bridge. That mean't she had to be from the town of Chester. It was the only town within walking distance.
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> Apparently the town was known as the home of Popeye. I had no idea why, I personally hadn’t ever watched the show, but the town looked small and all small towns needed their gimmick.
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> Having grown up in a small town myself, I knew her jump would have spread around that town like wildfire. I decided to pop into the local library to see if I could find anything on her.
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> Like I thought, the librarian in town remembered the case and the woman. She told me a bit about the girl, then brought a copy of the local paper from the next day for me to look at. She told me her obituary was in there."
I was pulled back to my surroundings by a sound emanating through the room. It was the bell signaling visiting hours were up.
No it can’t be over yet. I’m so close to answers!
Just one more passage. It was worth the risk.
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> “There she was. The woman from the bridge. Maria Rasario, aged 38 at the time of her death.
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> Her husband Juan Carlos had passed a mere week before her. That was when it clicked.
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> Her husband's name was in the guide. It had to be him. It made too much sense. She got her powers from him. She must have known.
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> When he died, she purposely grabbed the book and wrote the last chapter in an attempt to bury it at the bottom of the river. She wanted to end it all, to save all of us.
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> El capítulo final. - The Final Chapter.
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> Well ain’t that some bull honkey. She had tried to save us all. It had nothing to do with her not being fit for the job. She must have seen what this power does to a person.
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> I felt horrible. I had to make her remember, to help her move on.
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> That night, I took her to the bridge where everything happened and read her single entry into the book out loud.
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> That was…"
My time was cut short. My back was to the door as it swung open. Oh fuck, I waited too long. I slammed the laptop closed and shoved it under my sheets.
I turned to see a nurse walking into the room. It was the same nurse that stood guard outside Josiah's room last night. Had they seen the laptop? Oh man I was so screwed.
“Good afternoon Mr. Raymond. The doctor would like to have a word with you. Please follow me.”
“Why does he want to see me?”
“My job is simply to bring you to him. He’s in a hurry today, so please follow me.”
This... Was less than ideal for me. I think I might be in trouble.