Chapter 7: ch6 Epilogue

　　Jonathan ran back to King's Cross station without stopping for a moment. This time he rushed gratefully into the crowd of people crowding the platform; it was like looking for a needle in a haystack to find him again. After waiting only a minute or so, a subway train puffed and puffed its way into the station. Jonathan pushed into the car, while watching out for anyone chasing him. The carriage door beeped shut, he was relieved to get out.

　　After a few stops, the carriage became empty. Jonathan found a seat and sat down, thinking hard. He knew he should go to the teleportation point described in Stevenson's diary, but he couldn't just disappear into thin air without telling anyone. Besides, if the kidnappers in the library were involved with those who had broken into the house, it wasn't safe to go home. Chances are they're waiting for him back at home. There was also the possibility of going to Mrs. Elwood's house, but Jonathan figured she wouldn't be back until late, and he didn't want to hide in the garden and wait dry. The best solution would be to go to a friend's house, but he had no friends.

　　Never mind, there was only one place to go. When there were still two stops to go to the nearest station, Jonathan jumped off the subway and strode towards the bus stop on the main road. From here he could get a ride to the hospital.

　　The bus finally arrived, a long and winding route that seemed to take him around every alley in London. The residential street lights came on, and Jonathan looked through the window and saw parents returning home from work, carefully pulling up the driveway and closing the front door to the outside world. The old woman sitting next to Jonathan was mumbling, reeking as if she hadn't bathed in a long time. The trepidation and excitement he had felt in the library receded and was replaced by a secretly growing resentment. In one day, he had uncovered more family-related secrets than his father had ever told him since he was born. Why had Alain never told him about the Dark Place? What was so important that even his own son couldn't talk about it? What else was he hiding?

　　By the time Jonathan arrived, St. Christopher's Hospital was completely submerged in darkness. The wind whipped through the side room where Alan lived, slapping against the dirty windows and rattling the rotting door frames with a painful creak. It seemed to Jonathan that the whole building might be uprooted from its foundations by the wind at any moment and swept away along with the people inside. The sense of urgency suddenly gripped him with a deadly grip.

 

　　Inside, the reception was empty, except for a man in a nightgown who was staring straight at the floor and muttering something in a whisper. Eventually the nurse came out of the next room, she recognized Jonathan and ably let him up to the second floor.

　　"The patients are a little irritable at night," she warned Jonathan, "keep your eyes down and stay out of the wards."

　　Jonathan quickly walked up the stairs and entered the first ward. The atmosphere of panic from yesterday was gone, and the air was full of pent-up anxiety. The patients were huddled together in their beds, crying lowly in fear, with occasional forced choked sobs coming from them. A large group of caretakers moved around the room alertly. Jonathan obeyed the nurse's instructions and did not stop. There was something very wrong with this place.

　　In room seven, Mrs. Elwood was sitting next to her father, who was lying flat on his back, reading a fashion and celebrity magazine. When she heard Jonathan enter, she jerked around, but Alan didn't even lift a finger.

　　"Jonathan! What are you doing here? You can call me if you want to come, honey. I'll drive and pick you up."

　　Jonathan ignored her and strutted over to Alan's bedside, "Daddy, what is the Dark Place?"

　　Mrs. Elwood whispered a short prayer behind him. He had imagined this scene long ago, but Jonathan felt one of his dad's eyes twitch, presumably because he heard the name.

　　"I went into your study, Dad. Can you hear me? I went into your precious study." He said it forcefully, as if he were launching a challenge. Alain's lips were trembling. It seemed he could hear himself, and that was good, "I'm still reading those stupid books of yours."

　　Mrs. Elwood restrainedly put a hand on his arm, and Jonathan shook it off. Sudden anger rose up and tore at his heart. A low moan escaped from between Alan's lips, like the sound of an ancient Egyptian tomb opening.

　　"I saw that picture, Dad. I saw the picture of you and Mom."

　　Another groan, this time louder.

　　"In all these years, you never showed it to me. You told me there was no picture!"

　　Jonathan turned and sat on the end of his dad's bed, on the verge of crying out in frustration. He wanted to hurt Alan, wanted to get back at him for being silent for so many years, wanted to make him angry, wanted him to get up out of bed and fight back, whatever it took. He needed Alain alive, here with him. His whole body was shaking, and it felt like the only way to stop it was to let out a scream. But all that anger vanished into thin air when his dad hugged him for the first time in years.

　　"I'm ...... so ...... sorry," he whispered in Jonathan's ear.

　　"It's okay," Jonathan replied with difficulty, squeezing his eyes shut, "It's okay, Dad."

　　Feeling incredibly demoralized, Jonathan asked his dad question after question, thinking he would hear the real answer this time. But Alan was sometimes awake, sometimes confused, and could only understand a fragment of what his son was saying. Sometimes he tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn't listen. Jonathan hung his head sullenly.

　　"Don't worry, dear," Mrs. Elwood said with a sympathetic smile, "he's waking up. That's what's important. When he's a little better, you can ask him any questions you want."

　　"It's just that there's so much I don't know. There's so much he's not telling me." It was then that he thought of the question, "What do you know about the Dark Lands?"

　　Mrs. Elwood sighed and she turned her head away slightly, the light casting shadows on her cheeks, "Enough to know that it's an evil place and that you and your father would both do well to stay away from it."

　　Rhythmic footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, and for a moment Jonathan thought it was the nurse coming over to tell them to leave immediately, but the footsteps went through the door and into room eight.

 

　　"But I knew how to get there! I went to the British Library and read this book and know all about it! I can go to the Dark Lands!"

　　Mrs. Elwood pointed at Alan angrily, "Do you really think this is that simple? Going to the Dark Land is not like going to the street, Jonathan. You don't just jump on a bus. It will tear your soul to pieces. Look at your dad! Twelve years have passed and he hasn't come back from there, and that place is still tormenting him." She grabbed Jonathan's shoulders, her eyes wide and full of begging, "It's like poppycock. Do you want to end up like that?"

　　"I don't understand. If he wanted to come back so badly, why didn't he do it?"

　　Mrs. Elwood sighed, "It was an accident. A building collapsed on the only teleportation point Alain had ever known, and he could never use it again. From that point on, he was hell-bent on finding another way to get to the Dark Lands. God in heaven, he had reasons for having to go there, but ...... I mean, it had to do with your family - why did you have to hurt yourself?"

　　Scratching sounds and high-pitched wails pierced the walls and came from the next room, disrupting Jonathan's thoughts. He tried his best to focus on Mrs. Elwood, "Look, someone's starting to tell me the truth. What is the Dark Land anyway? What does my father have to do with it? Why would anyone want to kidnap me?"

　　Mrs. Elwood blinked, "What?"

　　"They tried to get me in the library! There was a strange woman, Marianne, whose perfume made me follow her out in a daze, and then I managed to get away. I had to get kicked out of the library to escape them."

 

　　There was a shocked silence.

　　"You were thrown out of the British Library?"

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　　"I didn't have a choice! Those guys were chasing me. I had to get out somehow!"

　　His explanation didn't seem to go down well, "And I'm pretty sure they're the same guys who broke into my house last night."

　　Allan squirmed and looked at Mrs. Elwood in surprise. Suddenly she was a little woebegone, "I was going to tell you, Alan--but I didn't know where to begin ...... Anyway, you've just woken up, and . . you see, there was something going on at your house last night. I got there in time and everything was fine, but ...... I knew something might be following Jonathan. Obviously, something strange happened. Alan, but we'll be fine until you recover. I can take care of Jonathan, whether those women are wearing weird perfume or not."

　　With an extraordinary effort, Alan reached out a thin, bony hand and touched Mrs. Elwood's arm soothingly. Then he shook his head sluggishly, "Arn ki, (Andrew Carnegie)," he murmured to the two men in front of the bed.

　　"What, Dad?"

　　"Arn'Eegi," he tried again, but unfortunately his mouth was incapable of uttering the full phrase.

　　"I can't understand, what did you say?"

　　Alan lifted his head from the pillow and shouted, "Arn ki!"

　　Mrs. Elwood drew back a cold breath: "Definitely not, Alan. We can handle all this on our own. We don't need to bring him into this ...... You know what this means, don't you? You know where Jonathan has to go!"

 

　　"What is he talking about? I can't understand. Please, tell me."

　　Mrs. Elwood turned her face away again: "He was saying 'Carnegie'. He wants Carnegie to take care of you."

　　"Who's Carnegie?"

　　"Your father's friend. He lives in the Dark Place." A series of crashes from room eight interrupted her, followed by an ear-splitting scream, screaming with fear, "For God's sake, what's wrong?"

　　Another scream followed, along with the sound of breaking glass.

　　"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good."

　　They heard the door next door slam open and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Jonathan stood up and cautiously walked to the doorway to look around. In the dimness, he saw a figure running in a panic toward the stairs.

　　"Jonathan, I'm pretty sure that the doctor knows what to do."

　　"I don't think that's the doctor."

　　"Well, don't go out there. Jonathan!"

　　But it was too late. He had slipped into the hallway. A cold wind blew from somewhere, and the door to room eight slammed into the wall with a loud bang. Jonathan took a step that way, took a deep breath, and looked into the room.

　　There had been a fierce fight here. The bed was turned upside down, and the sheets were all thrown to the floor. The lamp was broken, and the walls were splattered with blood. Something had been thrown out of the window with great force, breaking the glass and the guardrail mounted on the outside. There was no one in the room. The visitors and patients were gone. But Jonathan saw only one person leaving from the hallway. He walked slowly to the window and looked out. There was a man far below, lying spread-eagled on all fours on the asphalt, a shard of glass crushed beneath him. Just then, another figure stepped out of the ward's front door, and without looking at the man lying on the floor, darted past and disappeared into the night.

 

　　Jonathan headed for his dad's room, but he was just about to leave when he was drawn to something on the floor. He bent down and picked the object up. It was a long, thin, silver knife with a handle, as if it had been carved from bone. The bloodstained blade shone with a greedy light. Jonathan had the strange feeling that he was sure this knife was not the first time it had devoured human flesh and blood.

　　He heard someone on the stairs, probably people coming over to see what all the noise was about. Jonathan realized he should drop the dagger, but for some reason, he didn't move. The weapon's heavy grip in his hand gave him a sense of reassurance; and the knife really did work in his hand, as if it had been made for him. Besides that sense of lethality, it had an odd beauty, and suddenly Jonathan was reluctant to let go.

　　There was no time to think about it. He hastily wiped the blade clean, put the knife in his pocket, and slipped back into his dad's room.

　　"What's going on over there?" Mrs. Elwood asked.

　　Jonathan saw the worry on her face, so he shrugged, "I don't know," he lied.

　　A cry of pain rang out from the bed, startling them both and causing them to turn around in a hurry. Alain sat up straight, his hands clenched into fists, his whole body spasming in pain.

　　"Oh my God. What the hell is going on?"

　　Alan's eyes glazed over and the veins in his neck burst out as if he wanted to scream out the ultimate warning, but all he could do was make a sharp, choking sound between his clenched teeth. Jonathan ran to his dad's side, but there was nothing he could do: Alan screamed and fell back into bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Darkness claimed him once again.

　　The essence of this book has been serialized for you, thank you for reading.

　　"What's he talking about?"

　　Alan's head dropped heavily back onto the pillow, "That is the only way," he said vaguely, "he knows ...... he can wear the karma cross." A faint smile rippled across his face.

 

 

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