The Secret of Kolney Hatch (25 page)

        “We need to get out of here...But we cannot exit through the building. It’ll be a matter of minutes before the smoke and flames fill these tunnels, so we need to travel far enough away to survive. Alright?”

        Both George and Bonnie nodded. I dared not tell them about the ghost or Bradford, for I did not want to frighten them.
 
The smell of the hidden tunnels filled all of our nostrils,
 
and George got sick.

        “Shield your noses with the blankets. Wrap them around you. It’s cold down here, and if we can escape through these tunnels somehow, it’ll be even colder in the snow.”

We crept through the archway into the first passage of the tunnels and trekked for a while.
 
Bonnie screamed when she saw a rat.

“We have to be quiet,” I said.

“Why, is there something down here, Paul?” Bonnie asked with fright in her voice.

“How long have you worked at Kolney Hatch, Bonnie?”
“Same as you. Since May.”

Our whispers echoed in the dark tunnel.

                   At the first fork in the path, I took a left as I had last time, but when I reached the second fork, I took a right. I did not want to go back to that torture room.

Suddenly I heard something in the distance and gave both George and Bonnie the signal to keep quiet. I could not be sure if the sound was due to the fire, or something that lurked in the tunnels.

We seemed to be safe for the moment as we hurried along the path, and when we reached another fork in the tunnels, I stopped. I did not know which way to choose. If we headed left, would that bring us to that laboratory where Heathcliff and William Wilson’s dead bodies rested? I could not subject George and Bonnie to that. But if I went right, would that bring me back to the first tunnel again?

I decided to go right at the fork, and I had no idea how many other routes there could be. I was not even sure if we would find an escape route, but I knew we had to try. We
had
 to try.
 
I would not die in this dreadful place.

I decided to turn left at the next tunnel, and we continued down the passageway for five long minutes in silence. We heard a ringing sound in the distance, but I had no way of knowing what end of the passageway the noise came from. I motioned to George and Bonnie to stop for a moment as we listened for the noise. Again we heard it, a strange clinking sound that I remembered hearing when I was locked in that basement room.
 

Bonnie held up the candlestick in front of us. The noise would not cease—it only became louder, and then suddenly someone pushed me hard. I crashed into the wall and fell to the ground. I knew the man who pushed me was Bradford; I could smell the stench from his dirty body, and he produced the most heinous laugh as he grabbed me by my throat with one of his hands. Bonnie screamed. George mustered up some courage and kicked Bradford in the shin. With a swipe of his hand, Bradford hit George in the face and sent him flying back against the wall.

I struggled against Bradford, but I could barely breathe.
 
He held a sharp object against my throat.

“I’m going to kill you.”

All I could think of was poor George and Bonnie. I no longer cared about my life, but I was determined to save them. I tried to fight against Bradford, but he dug the sharp object in a little deeper, and I felt it slightly knick the skin on my throat.

“Paul!” Bonnie screamed as she knelt over the unconscious and bleeding George.

Bradford grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the wall again. I fell to the floor and tried to regain my balance with much difficulty. Then he dragged me through that dark hallway in the direction back toward Kolney Hatch. The smell of smoke replaced the usual stench of the tunnels. In the distance, I could hear the clinking noise getting louder.

Bradford stopped and struck me again, sending me to the ground once more. Still, I struggled to get up. I was not a man to go down without a fight. But I was wounded, and I could not maneuver my way around in the darkness like he could.

I was prepared to die. Bradford, keeping one hold on my throat, jabbed the razor-sharp object into my side, and I screamed in pain. I grabbed the spot where I was stabbed as I fell to the ground; I felt the blood oozing from the lesion.

I knew Bradford was not finished with me yet.

I cried out in anguish. My body was too weak; I lost much blood.

Bradford held up the large, sharp dagger, now dripping with my blood.

“It’s time to die,” Bradford said. The dull throb of my wounds grew in intensity. Then the pain became almost unbearable.

“Why?”

“Because he tells me to,” Bradford said with a heinous laugh.

“Who,” I said breathlessly. “Who tells you to?”

Bradford laughed.

“Doctor Reid.”

Then I heard an awful sound, not quite a scream, but not quite a cry. Darkness surrounded us, and in that next moment, Bradford dropped his hold around my neck and winced in pain. Someone had bludgeoned him with something. I fell to the floor and caught my breath for a moment. Then, without looking to see what had transpired, I hobbled as fast as I could back in the direction where I left George and Bonnie.
 
I was back by George’s side in two minutes; he had a pulse, but he was still unconscious on the floor.

“Come on, George,” I said breathlessly, keeping my one hand firmly pressed onto my wound.

“You’ve been hurt badly,” Bonnie said as her eyes filled with tears.

“We have to go, Bonnie. We have to find a way out of here.”

The smoke was starting to fill the hallways now. Bonnie panicked.  

“What if there is no way out, Paul?” She cried. “What if we die in these tunnels?”

“We’re not going to die,” I assured her, though truthfully I was not certain we would find a way out, and I had a good chance of bleeding to death. “We have to try to find a way, Bonnie. Can you carry George?”

“Yes,” she said nodding her head.

“I’ll take the light, you take George. And bring all the blankets. We’ll need them if we get out of here. And Bonnie,” I said with barely any breath left in me. I was losing a lot of blood. “If I get caught, you keep running. You keep going as fast and as far as you can. Don’t come back for me.”

 Bonnie’s eyes were wide with fear and sadness, but she shook her head in agreement. I staggered along then through the tunnel, occasionally glancing to make sure no one was near. Bonnie struggled to hold George. If only we could get far enough to wrap my wound, I could help carry him.

Suddenly, I heard a noise. I jumped at a shadow on the wall and saw that ghastly girl standing in front of us, her head and face still covered by the shawl. She had a large broken chain around her ankle. Had she escaped her captivity? Bonnie and I stepped back toward the wall.

“Leave us alone,” I shouted, but she did not respond. She was pale and chalky, but to me she seemed so tangible.

Maybe the ghost of Kolney Hatch was just a girl banned to the tunnels of the asylum for eternity. She must be alive; she appeared to be breathing. But then, why not leave, why not be free of this torture?

She was holding a small, sharp dagger. Bonnie seemed frightened, but I was curious and needed to approach her.

I stepped in front of Bonnie who still held tightly on to George. But the girl did not strike. I was surprised, for as I locked eyes with her for a long moment, there was not the anger or hatred I thought I would see.

 The girl lifted her hand and pointed toward our lit candle.

“What do you want with it?” I asked.

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes now, and she pointed behind her in the direction we were running.

“Is there an escape? You’ll lead us there?” I said to her. I seemed to understand what she was trying to say.

She nodded her shawl-covered head.

“Why are you helping us?” I asked, becoming weaker and weaker by the minute. “Tell me.”

The girl removed her shawl slightly to uncover her mouth, and both Bonnie and I recoiled in horror.

Someone had sewn the girl’s mouth shut. Who would do such a horrific thing? I hobbled closer to her, watching the tears fall from her green eyes.

I quickly investigated her mouth. There was a small opening—someone had been feeding her. This procedure had not been recent since there was significant scarring, and it appeared to have been done more than once. The girl looked like she was in her early twenties, and I wondered how long she had been this way. I was filled with pity; I needed to help her.

I handed her the candle. My pity led to trust, and as she turned to lead the way, Bonnie, George, and I followed closely. The cold, dark corridors were filled with thick smoke now. We covered our noses with the blankets. Luckily, I brought an extra blanket which the girl took willingly. We continued following the candle light when I heard a faint noise behind us. I knew Bradford was chasing us, but I hoped we had enough of a head start.

My body began to shake; I knew I was going into shock and struggled to block out the excruciating pain.

“They keep her prisoner here,” I told Bonnie. The girl was a prisoner just like Agatha. Agatha. I’d forgotten about her. “Wait.”

The girl turned around to look at us, probably wondering why we stopped.

“There was another girl,” I said breathlessly, “Kept prisoner in these tunnels, just like you. Her name is Agatha. You’ve seen her?”

The girl nodded slowly.

“Can we get her to safety as well?”

The girl nodded again.

Suddenly, I heard Bradford close behind. I looked at the girl.

“Go! I’ll hold him off,” I yelled to them, but no one moved.

 “I mean it. Get them out of here!” I screamed, and suddenly the girl was running down the hallway with George and Bonnie following.

Bradford swung the mace at me, and I moved just fast enough for it to slam into the wall beside me, a little too close this time. I wished I had anything to fight back, but I could barely move, much less fight.

“No one leaves Kolney Hatch,” Bradford’s sinister voice said. I could only dodge Bradford’s swing so many times. Eventually he would hit me. Only a dim-light shown in that corridor, but I could see a shadow moving toward us. It couldn’t be the girl.

Ca-thunk!

Bradford screamed, but didn’t falter. He was still swinging the mace, only this time at the person who had just sliced him in the back with a halberd.

Alice.

Bradford hit Alice sending her with such a force against the wall. She lay bleeding on the ground. Then Bradford fell to his knees, and soon he was motionless.

I stood over his body in disbelief. The smoke had reached this tunnel now, and I had no idea where the others had gone.

I heard Alice wheeze, so I rushed to her side, though I knew she was gravely hurt.

“Alice, you saved my life,” I said, holding her bloody hand.

“Beautiful child, so smart,” Alice cried.

“Just rest now Alice…”

“He made me do it to her, you see,” Alice said.

“Alice, it’s alright. Just calm down.”

Alice coughed up blood, and I knew these were her last moments.

“Her father…made her believe…she couldn’t leave.” She took a weak breath—the smoke had thickened in the corridor. “Just like… he did…to all of us,” Alice said, and then with one last breath, she died in my arms.

forty two

THE TRAP DOOR

Paul Watson’s Journal

November 30, continue
d
.—Most of my body was numb, but somehow I gained a bit of strength as I moved down the corridor. I came to a last fork, but I could no longer walk. In fact, I could barely stand, I was so weak. My eye was still swollen, and I could still taste the blood in my mouth.

I thought about how I might not live.
 
And then I thought of my mother, how she was murdered, shot, never had a chance to survive and escape her fate. I realized then, I could not give up. I would survive for her because I had a choice. I would determine my fate. And I would live.
 
At least Bradford could not chase me any longer. The air was cold and the smoke still poured into the corridors. I no longer had my blanket, and I was terribly cold.

I heard voices in the distance coming from the left fork. I staggered down that dim-corridor and soon the girl, Bonnie, and George came into view.

“There he is!” Bonnie said running to help me. “We knew you’d find us.”

“I told you to leave me behind.”

“But we just...couldn’t.”

They had stopped in front of a small, round wooden door. The smoke filled the tunnels now, and I knew if we did not find an escape soon, we would die from suffocation. I hoped this door led to our freedom. The girl had a key but the door was stuck. I pushed on it, but I was too weak.

“Bonnie, George, we all need to push,” I said in a raspy voice. We pushed with all of our might, the girl too. Suddenly the door sprang open, and we all barreled through to the other side.