6677 words (26 minute read)

Day 2

Day 2

Morning came too quickly, as it always seemed to for Jessica. It took awhile to pull herself together, but after forty-five minutes she was sitting in morning Manhattan traffic. Anticipation was eating away at her as she studied the map to see exactly where it was she was going. She hated the heavy traffic but she liked to drive, something that had become very rare since moving to the city. She was not ready to give up the car but it was quickly becoming apparent that it would be cheaper to let it go and become one of the countless faces that walked the sidewalks every day of their life.

After waiting through the stop and go traffic for what seemed like forever she was on I-87 North toward Albany. The traffic on the way north turned out to be far better than the traffic in the city. After driving for nearly two hours she found her exit and then began to follow roads into the countryside. The winding roads were empty and lonely. The shadows mingled with the sunlight in scintillating patterns on the road. She would round corners and find beautiful houses dazzled by kaleidoscope sunlight. Then she came to the large wrought iron gate that hung from a great brick wall that surrounded the hospital.

The gate opened and she drove through. As she followed the curving road, the gates closed behind her. The large brick building came into view. The hospital looked like a mansion, with exquisite landscaping and brightly blooming flowers in reds and yellows. The drive was lined with stones and cobblestone walkways cut across deep green lawns that were freshly trimmed. There were people out sitting at wooden tables playing chess or checkers. Some sat just looking over the large pond that sat tranquilly in the midsummer morning. She had not expected a place of so much beauty.

She pulled into the parking lot behind the complex and noticed that there was a large hedge garden that seemed to fade into the trees in the distance. She stepped out of her car and grabbed the folder and her laptop carrying case. She began walking toward the front door of the hospital. As she walked a man approached her. His clean appearance and almost casual dress seemed to make him fit into the scenery. He had a gentle and caring smile on his face. “Dr. Fairchild, I’m Richard Tollvert. I’ve been looking after the man for the past few days. It’s nice to see you and I do hope you can help him or us, whichever it turns out to be.”

She smiled at the man with the streaks of gray in his black hair. “Mr. Tollvert, I’ll do my best. How did you know it was me?”

Richard chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming, “Richard, please. We were told to expect you, along with your Malibu. You have a very recognizable face. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to his room.”

Richard turned and walked only slightly in front of the small woman who had come to see their newest patient. The inside of the hospital was as welcoming as the outside. The walls were decorated with paintings and painted in different color schemes to make it seem like a house. There were rooms that were dedicated to different uses. Some rooms were for television and movies, others for board games and yet others were like large patio rooms for taking in the outdoors without being outdoors. She saw nothing that would make anyone uncomfortable.

After a few turns and a flight of stairs and a long hall of what could have been a college dormitory, they arrived at a room with a thick wood door. Richard took out some keys and unlocked the door. Once through the door, the atmosphere seemed to change. The white tiled floor and the white plaster walls were indicative of a city hospital. Their shoes clicked on the tile as they walked. Richard stopped in front of a room with two armed guards standing outside.

Richard turned to her, “This is it. He comes out a couple times each day. We’ve had no problems but he’s always under a watchful eye. If you read the account in your file, you’ll find that he struggled against five orderlies. One was an instructor for self-defense classes. All of them were fairly large and this guy seemed to treat them like they were rag dolls until they got two full syringes of tranquilizers in him, then, for the next week and a half, a gentle, kind and almost hero-like demeanor. But, we’re not taking any chances.”

Jessica looked at the white metal door and the steel wire reinforced window. Through the window she could see the young man sitting on his hospital bed. He seemed to be bored and waiting for time to go by. She turned to Richard, “Well, thank you, I think I’ll go in and speak to him now.” She looked at her watch. It was ten-thirty-four.

Richard shook his head, “I know you know this, but be careful.” He took the large bundle of jingling keys and unlocked the door to let her in. She walked through the door and heard it click shut and then the sliding of the security bolt as Richard locked it behind her.

The young man looked at her with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through her. His sandy colored hair was a little long but he was clean shaven. His features were soft and slightly angular. He was handsome but his eyes seemed cold. She did not like the way he looked at her. It was as if he was looking for her flaws and weaknesses. She was the one who was supposed to be figuring things out, yet he seemed to be the one who was going to be getting answers.

“Hi, you’re here to figure out who I am, right?” the man said.

She swallowed the lump of anxiety in her throat. “Yes, I am. My name is Jessica.”

He looked to the floor, “That’s a good name. Pretty.”

She smiled, not realizing that she was already at a disadvantage, “Thank you. Do you mind if we talk?”

He looked her in the eye, “What do you want to talk about?”

He asked it so simply that it took her off guard. She had hoped that he would pose a basis for conversation, but he had just made it her duty. “I don’t know,” she looked around his room and realized that there was nothing there to use as a conversation piece, “Don’t you feel awkward being kept away from everyone else most of the time?”

“No, it seems familiar. Like I’ve done it awhile so it’s not too bad. Are you nervous, your voice sounds uneven?”

The look of awe on her face was a dead give away, “What?”

“There’s no reason to be nervous, or afraid. You’re here to help, right.”

“Yes, and I guess I’m a little nervous. But how’d you know that?”

He looked at the floor again, “I don’t really know, it just seems like your voice shouldn’t tremble so much.”

“So, you can read me that easy and it doesn’t bother you to be pinned up in this room with guards?”

“No, it doesn’t. Uh, would you like to take a seat? Maybe it’ll help calm you down.” He gestured to the simple plastic chair in the corner of the small, white room.

She walked to it and pulled it closer to the bed and then sat in it. “Thank you,” she paused, wanting to call him something and realizing that there was nothing to call him, “Sorry, it’s just that… you need a name.”

“I don’t remember my name, or anything else for that matter. I thought that was why you were here.” He focused on the floor.

“Actually, I’m here to save my career. I haven’t had much luck since I moved to New York and then finally they came up with this to help me. If I figure out where you came from, I might get to keep my job. I just wanted to do something instead of being in the background. I was so afraid that I would never prove myself and then this came up and I took it.”

“Now I think I understand why you’re so nervous. You have a lot riding on this. Trust me, it could be worse. Fear is a dark and often controlling thing.” The young man seemed to regress. His eyes changed from piercing to dark and boding. Jessica tried to think on the connection.

“Do you like to read?” she asked to get his attention back.

He looked at her, “Sometimes, I don’t remember reading much though.”

“What do you remember reading?” she asked.

“I don’t recall anything before, but I’ve been reading ‘Dracula.’ It’s interesting but for some reason I don’t see a vampire inviting someone to stay with them just to get to a girl. It doesn’t seem quite right, you know. I mean, why would a dead corpse want to get with a live woman for anything other than a drink? Think about it, and the whole reincarnation thing, I don’t think the two ideas go together all that well. Ghosts maybe, but vampires and rebirth, no.” He paused, “And a vampire that can come out in the light, that gets me. I mean, it might happen, but for some reason it just doesn’t seem like it fits.”

Jessica giggled, “You seem to have some pretty firm ideas about vampires. It’s not like they’re real. Why do you think that a vampire couldn’t come out in daylight?”

“Well, that’s always been part of the crucial weakness. Throughout the stories, it’s either fire or sunlight. Crosses and garlic and all that stuff is just like the salt over the shoulder thing. Crosses should work because they represent Christ. Garlic has always been a good luck charm. Silver is for werewolves. Holy Water is just like the crosses. If sunlight and fire don’t work, you just made a creature that only dies if you cut off its head, but it’s faster and stronger and you’re lucky if you can actually cut through their neck. See?”

“You seem to know a lot about vampires. Why?” Jessica thought she had her way in.

“I don’t know, really, I guess they just intrigue me. The great monster that lives within our own society while feeding off of us. Like, we’re the cattle but the wolves are so much like us that we can’t tell that they aren’t cattle. They look like us, talk like us, live like us and so much so that they could walk among us and never be seen or noticed. Maybe, it’s the fact that you can’t disprove them but somehow you know they aren’t real.”

She thought for a moment, “Doesn’t the idea that something like that could be real scare you a little?”

“No, not really. I’m not sure if I’m scared of anything. I know I don’t like the dark. When it gets dark, I have trouble sleeping. I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t get very tired and then I feel the need to sleep during the day, like I’ve done it for years and it’s normal.” He looked around the room.

She watched him look around, “I was told you don’t talk much, why are you talking to me?”

“You asked me to talk and you keep asking questions. Besides, I’d like to know who I am, too.” He looked up and noticed the manila folder in her lap. “Have you read everything in there yet?”

She looked at the folder, “Most of it, why?”

“Have you noticed anything strange about it?”

“No, should I have?”

“Don’t you think it odd that they have all those ways to find a killer but they still can’t tell me who I am? Fingerprints, DNA from hair, I don’t know, there’s got to be something.” He peered at her.

“They don’t have any records matching your prints, no DNA traces have matched any known blood samples, they’re still working, but to date they haven’t found anything. Sorry.” The question did not seem that potent, but as she answered it, she began to see that the answer may be further behind the veil than she had ever thought.

“So, I don’t exist. That’s reassuring. So, where do we go from there?”

Jessica looked at him, her hopes were falling and she had only been in the room for a few moments. He could see the hopelessness in her eyes. She closed her eyes and let her face drop, dark brown waves covering her features as she put her hand to her face. She was already losing his faith and her job and she had not yet had a chance to start. She was falling into a spiral of fear and anxiety that the young man had hoped she would leave behind.

“Jessica, those pages won’t tell you anything. I don’t think anything really will. Maybe you should try to start with something you like and maybe my answers will help.”

She looked up, distress in her deep blue eyes, “Where did you learn so much about people?” she blurted out and then remembered. “Sorry.”

“Okay, so, maybe you’d like to go and think about it on your own.” He cocked his head to one side.

She nodded and stood. She walked to the door and knocked. One of the armed guards let her out. She walked down the hall and then through the door into the more homey part of the building. She stopped at the first chair and took a seat, looking out of a large window that looked out into the nearby trees. She truly did not know where to begin to get back to his past. She could not even fathom how much territory there could be and all she had was his knowledge of vampires and his almost grandfatherly way of seeing into her. None of that really seemed to help. There was no solid ground to start with. He had no identity; there was no family, no friends, and no link to the past except the incident when he awoke from the coma.

She could not let that be her tool. It was too dangerous. To use something that volatile might awaken the rage that he had when he attacked the girl. She suddenly realized that she knew nothing about the woman that had been attacked or the details of the attack. None of that information was in the file and she had not had time to research anything about those few moments. Going back to those moments that were so dangerous may be the only hope this young man had of rediscovering who he was. She could be opening up something she would want to close and not be able to, but that seemed to be the only way.

She decided it was time to do some research and set off to find Richard Tollvert in hopes that he would be able to help her amass the details. After a few minutes of winding through the halls she came to a large open room that was done in desert tones with a pale brown, almost tan carpet and a ceiling that had been painted a near perfect cornflower blue. A long semicircular desk adorned the large room and two young women and a middle-aged man were at work with papers and files and computers. She approached the desk just as Richard stepped through a door behind her.

Richard called from across the room, “Dr. Fairchild, I didn’t expect to see you out yet. Is there something I can help you with?” He then whispered something to the older woman who followed him through the door. She nodded and then left. He started walking toward Jessica with a full, honest smile.

Jessica waited for him to get to her, “Richard, I need to know more about the attack on the woman. I don’t know if there is anything else we can use to get to this guy’s past and I don’t know enough to start the line of questioning. Is there any way you can help me?”

Richard thought for a moment before answering, “I don’t know too much besides what I have already told you, but we were given a copy of the video that caught the act. Come with me and I’ll show you.” He then started to walk toward the door he had come through. “I hope it can tell you something. Personally, I think that there is more to this guy than we may ever know.”

After a short hall and a turn to the left they were in a small room with a large television and enough audio and video equipment to make a high quality project film. The walls were covered in posters and there was a movie list that seemed to go on forever. “Dr. Fairchild, this room is for anyone who wants to use it. We keep the ordinary movies on DVD in the large cabinet to your right, but we keep the really interesting stuff over here.” He stood next to a small metal locker, sifting through keys, looking for the one to unlock the safe box. After a few seconds he unlocked the box and then traced the writing on the VHS tapes with a finger until he finally took out one and slid it into the VCR. “Here, this is the hospital’s security camera video tape of the night of the attack.” He started to walk out of the room.

“Excuse me, I’d like if you’d stay and watch this with me. A second opinion could be helpful.” Jessica hoped he would stay.

Richard stopped and then spun a chair around, “Alright, let’s have a look at it then.” Jessica took a seat, setting her laptop and the file down on a round table that sat in the center of the room.

The video started playing back. The scene opened with a nurse rolling a gurney down a long corridor. The young, blonde haired woman was simply doing her job when suddenly the person on the gurney jumped up and spun the gurney toward her. He hit her in the face with his open hand, blood splattered from her face. Then he turned around looking for something. By that time, the orderlies were headed his direction, appearing to have responded to the scream that could be expected from a woman getting hit in the face. The man from the gurney spotted what he had been looking for and ran off the screen. He came back wielding a splintered piece of wood. He noticed the orderlies and paused in wait. As they approached he spun around, dropping one with a kick to the face that was so fast none of them saw it coming. He then hit one of the others in the chest, knocking him off balance. Then he ran toward the nurse with the splintered piece of wood. He attempted to attack and then the orderlies started grappling with him. He tossed them off like they were children, as if he had no concern that they were there. One of the orderlies stabbed at him with something and then he punched the orderly, sending him across the tile floor and leaving a trail of blood from his face on the wall. Then he elbowed an orderly in the ribs who was trying to hold the hand that he was holding the piece of wood in. Another orderly made a stabbing motion and the young man started to slow down. Then after a few moments of struggling, the man collapsed.

Jessica just stared at the screen. Richard stood and turned off the television set. “That was… revealing.”

She looked up to him and the look on her face was full of despair, “He’s like Rambo or something. But in there, he’s so gentle and his words seem like they are filled with wisdom. It doesn’t make any sense how someone can be a monster and be gifted with such, I don’t know, it just doesn’t work out.”

Richard arched his eyebrows, “Unless there is a real motive behind what he did. Then, it might.”

“But why a young nurse, what could she have possibly done to make him want to hurt her?”

“Well, I’ve seen cases where someone is put under during a fit and if they wake up to something they witnessed during that fit, they will just go right back into a rage. Maybe, he suffered something similar.”

“That would mean that his coma was probably caused by something violent, an attack, a mugging rather than say, a fall or a car accident. But if it was a mugging, why would he treat the men like nuisances and the girl, she couldn’t have been a threat, like she was the problem.”

“Well, think about it, he’s trained to fight, obviously, so maybe she could look like someone trained like him. It could be some sort of military or CIA thing.”

“I doubt it. I don’t think they would be sloppy enough to let us get involved, especially not this deep.”

“Then what, some kind of crazy kung-fu stuff or something?”

“Wait, what about the piece of wood? Where did it come from and why a piece of wood? Why not just hit her with a chair or something?”

“A weapon, a very efficient weapon. A stake through the heart or something.”

“A stake through the heart. Play back the tape.”

Richard played back the tape. They both watched intently, waiting for the part where the young man used the splintered piece of wood. They both seemed to notice it at the same time. Jessica covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Richard reacted with a simple, “Oh my God.” The stabbing motion of the stake was unmistakable. He was going for the heart. He was going to drive the stake through her heart. Richard turned to look at Jessica. Her eyes were wider than he had thought possible.

After a few moments of sitting there, frozen, she finally replied, “Do you really think…?”

Richard looked at the floor not wanting to confirm what they both now thought the most likely answer.

“He talked about vampires. He seemed dead set on certain behaviors. Do you think that he really thought she might have been a vampire? And if he thought she was a vampire, how many other people do you think he may have killed thinking they were vampires, especially if he is that good at fighting?”

“What if it was just like some freak thing that just struck him at the time because he has an interest in vampire based literature?” Richard proposed.

“Do you think you could find the nurse? Maybe, we can get something from her.” Jessica was hoping she had not stumbled across a serial killer or a madman, and that hope made her want to find out more. If he was dangerous, she may be the only one who could keep him off of the streets. She now had the chance to do more than just help an individual and could very well have the chance to catch a criminal. Though the thought of putting someone behind bars was invigorating, at the same time, the concept of the immensity of such a thing so early was overwhelming.

Richard nodded, “Let me make a call and I’ll see if we can get an interview or something. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He left the room and Jessica was left to ponder where she was headed with the investigation. All of the forensic evidence had come back negative and if he was responsible for a murder they should have found something that connected. Fingerprints, DNA, everything they had tried had come back negative, but did they cross reference the material with any criminal databases or even suspect it? Were the authorities informed of how dangerous this man could be? Were Richard and herself the only ones with any insight and why was nothing heard from the nurse? There were so many questions and no answers that seemed to make sense and yet the questions were not being asked.

She sat staring at the paused screen, the stake poised over the woman’s chest, the two hundred and thirty pound muscleman being dragged by an arm that appeared to be little more than average, a syringe sticking out of the smaller man’s back and the calm perfection of the swinging motion as if it was the only thing in all the world that mattered. She could not believe that a man that could read her like an open book could try to kill a perfectly innocent woman. It just did not come together in her mind.

He was an enigma. There was no way that someone could exist in the United States without leaving a trace. There had to be a mistake somewhere. She knew that records had to be there, they could not have let a person slip by. The man was educated, experienced and obviously trained in some sort of self-defense or martial art. That would leave something. Some proof of classes or registration and that would require some kind of identification, even if it was false. There had to be something that this man left, some trace, some effect that she could identify.

She stared into the screen. The image appeared as though it had been cut out of some action movie and yet it was a hospital security camera that had actually captured the image. If it had been altered, she could believe that, but it was taped only eight days before and it had been locked up in that box and then there was the time it would have taken to find the footage and then send it with the man to the Ulbrik Hospital.

A little later, Richard came back, “I called the hospital. Apparently she stopped working there after the incident. They did give me her name when I told them why I was calling. They said her name was Heather Westchester. She shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Jessica just looked at him. He could see the feeling of terror. She knew she would still have to work with him and now she knew that she was not safe being alone with him. If he did decide to attack, she would probably be dead before someone outside the room would notice. “We need to confine him and have guards in the room when I speak with him.”

Richard nodded, “That might be a good idea. I think I’m going to increase security on his room. We will have to start treating him as a high risk resident, full and true. That means his social time will be within confines. At least we know he poses more of a risk than we had previously thought.”

“I think I’m going to go and try to do some more research. I’ll be back in a few days to do a follow-up interview. In the meantime, could you have someone take notes on his daily behaviors? I’d like to have something to go on that is more personality based. I should be able to handle most of the material investigation.” She stood and picked up her things.

“I will make sure that there is always a watchful eye, or several. I hope it’s not what we think.” Richard stepped out of her way as she walked to the door.

“I hope we’re wrong, too, but if we’re not…” She did not have to finish. He knew what would happen to the young man. Richard realized how terrible it would be to live your entire life locked away. If they were wrong and that mistake carried too far, the young man would never know what a real life was. That was a tragedy that he did not want to be responsible for.

She walked out, leaving a strange void even deeper than the one she had come to explore.

Later that night, Jessica sat in the living room of her apartment with papers sprawled out across the floor and a box of some strange Chinese food she could not pronounce the name of in front of her. The papers were in piles and there was some loose organization of details. She had amassed information and retrieved stills from the security tape and had acquired a decent pile of material from the office and the library in hopes that somewhere between the Time Life Collection book on vampires and the psychotherapy texts, she would find a beginning. So far, she had managed to get a soy sauce stain on her plaid pajamas.

She had spent the day working on gathering the information. She had already talked to several people about the scenario. She had been working hard and was finally taking a break to let her mind rest. Even though she was resting, she did not want to fully lose her frame of mind and was looking over the results of her studies, with a notebook full of scratched notes and etchings. She sat down the box of Chinese and picked up one note she had not followed up on, the name of the nurse. She looked at her watch and noticed it was already eleven-thirty.

She stood up and looked around. Her eyes stopped on her house phone. She thought for a moment and then decided that it would be worth it to have at least some kind of an answer to something. She sat down the Chinese and then picked up the notebook. She walked to the phone and then sat down the notebook and reached under the small table and took out a phonebook. She thumbed through the ‘W’s and then to the Westchester section. She followed the names with a forefinger and stopped when she got to the two Heather Westchesters. She hoped one of them was the one.

Two phone calls later, she had gotten no further and was left even more in the dark than she had been to start with. She walked back to the small bare spot left between the piles of books and papers and pictures. She shook her head. She could not believe that she had taken on a case that would involve a man who had left behind no fingerprints, no birth certificate and no life as far as she could tell. Then she jumped up and ran to the phone and called the hospital.

She did not wait for an answer on the other end, “Excuse me, I’m Dr. Fairchild and I am calling in regards to a nurse by the name of Heather Westchester. I was hoping you could help me get in touch with her.”

“Well, just a moment, I’ll see what I can do?”

After a few moments the man on the other side came back to the phone, “I, uh, well, she… May I ask why you’re calling?”

“I would like to speak with her about the attack, if that’s possible.”

“Well, Doctor, she died shortly after. I just found out myself, they said that you can call the coroner. If you like, I’ll just transfer you there.”

“If you would; thanks.”

A moment later the phone rang. Three rings and the coroner picked up, “Hello, coroner, how can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Dr. Fairchild and I’m working with the young man who attacked Heather Westchester. I was told that she died and you dealt with the body.”

“Oh yeah, the gorgeous blonde who overdosed, I remember that one. That was two days after the attack. Cause of death was easy enough and then it was off to the funeral home, I believe they cremated her. That’s sad, survives an attack by a madman just to screw herself over. Anything else you want to know?”

“No, thank you.” She hung up.

She looked around again and shook her head in disbelief. Nothing seemed to lead anywhere. She looked from pile to pile. She had opened a wound that would take forever to heal. She put her thumb and her middle finger to the sides of her head and started to massage her temples. She had started something that she may not be able to complete. She was quickly growing afraid that she would end up becoming the coffee girl.

She picked up a book and looked it over. Thumbing through the pages, she saw pictures, drawn ages ago and read passages from books and stories: so much information on vampires, so much of it contradictory. How could anyone pick out what made sense and what did not. With weaknesses varying from garlic to crossing running water and powers from superhuman strength to walking through shadows and even flying without wings, how could anyone postulate what made sense and what would just be a flight of fancy on the part of an author or old man who wanted to capture people’s attention.

She could only imagine that the man was dangerously insane, living in a fantasy world where his own name may not be the one he would answer to. There was no certainty to how someone who had designed a belief like that may react to a particular line of questioning and now she had to take those possible reactions into account before speaking to him again. She collapsed onto her sofa, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands over her face. She looked up through her fingers and noticed that she had just let the book fall.

She looked at the window as it started to rain. It was barely audible and the sounds of the life below still wafted up to the apartment. She liked the sound of the rain, it reminded her of home. The smell of the grass after a summer rain seemed to hang in her nostrils but she knew it was only a fond memory of a place that was too far off to even think of then. She started toward the window. She wanted to leave everything behind and go home, but she knew that if she did that, everything else that would follow would show defeat. She would have the small town atmosphere but at the cost of success and the feeling of triumph and being away in her own life.

She started playing with the charm of her necklace. The simple silver cross had been given to her by her grandmother before she had gone to college. Her grandmother had wished her good luck and then said something that she thought was odd, “For all the science in the world, don’t be afraid of the things that could never be explained.” She stopped a few feet from the window and bit her lip as she remembered her grandmother.

Then the thought struck her. She turned and ran to the phone. She dialed Dr. Fitzpatrick’s number and waited as it rung. “Hello, this is Dr. Fitzpatrick, how may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Dr. Fairchild, I’m working on that file and I was wondering if you could have the man’s fingerprints ran against deceased records from thirty to fifteen years ago and see if the prints match anyone’s?”

“Well, Mrs. Fairchild, it seems you have found yourself. I’ll be glad to have that done. By the way, how is it coming?”

“I don’t know. It’s like he doesn’t exist. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Well, I’m sure that we’ll find something eventually. Just don’t worry too much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to read.” With that he hung up.

She decided she was done for the night and went to the sofa and pulled a blanket that she had used as a cushion on the floor up over her. Then she drifted to sleep.

Next Chapter: Night 2