Meng froze in the doorway, and looked back in real fear now. I had my hand out, pushing against Jenna’s chest to keep her off me. Fortunately, Jenna wasn’t very large or strong. She tore at my wrists with her broken nails, and we were both bleeding. Soon, she was going to get the idea to bite me, and I didn’t want that.
“Release Jenna, or I’ll put a round into your legs right now,” I said. I lowered my aim and paused.
“Jenna,” Meng said, “be yourself.”
Jenna stumbled and grabbed on to me for support. She looked down at her hands and my palm against her chest. There was blood on both of us.
“What did you do?” Jenna asked me breathlessly.
“She did it,” I said, gesturing toward Meng. “She blanked your mind then ordered you to attack me.”
Jenna stared, disbelieving and upset. She looked down at the finger that rolled around in the bottle in my hand. I was pressing it against her, so she could hardly miss it.
“Meng, step over here,” I said. “Come back to the desk. We’ll try to talk civilly again.”
Slowly, the doctor complied. She didn’t look happy about it.
“The talisman worked?” Jenna asked me.
“What talisman?” Meng asked, but we ignored her.
“That’s what you did to Robert, isn’t it?” Jenna asked her suddenly. She held out her hand in my direction. “Give it to me, Quentin.”
“Hold on, Jenna,” I told her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—” Meng began.
I felt a stabbing pain in my hand as Jenna suddenly bit me, blood welling up. I roared in pain and surprise, dropping the talisman. Jenna caught it. She had that wild look in her eyes again.
I realized Meng was using her powers again—and then I knew no more.
When I woke up, I was lying on the floor of Meng’s office. The first thing I noticed was the noise. The entire sanatorium had come alive at last. It was filled with wild sounds: banging, screeches, and warbling noises like the cries of the distant birds. The inmates had awakened.
Jenna stood over me, aiming my pistol over toward Meng’s chair and dry-clicking it. She was breathing hard. Her eyes were wide and her lips were curled back. Her hair hung over her face unheeded, exaggerating her wild expression. I knew then what she had done. I struggled to my feet, feeling dizzy. I looked over the desk—there was Meng, sprawled on the floor. There was blood on Meng’s chair, on the floor, and a growing circle of it stained her white lab coat. It looked like wine spilled upon a tablecloth.
“You shot her,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said in a hollow voice. “We have to get out of here.”
I picked up the .32 auto’s magazine from the floor, staring at it. “There must have been a round in the chamber.”
The bizarre sounds coming from the hallway behind me increased in volume. As my mind grew clearer, I realized Jenna had released everyone in this place who was under Meng’s control. The doctor had a bullet in her chest, and as a result, we were all off the leash. Jenna had cut the strings of every puppet at once.
I took the gun from Jenna’s rubbery fingers. I reloaded the weapon and pulled back the slider to chamber another round. We went to the office door, and after a momentary hesitation, I threw open the door and leaned out into the hallway.
In the hallway, the noise was a hundred times worse. People howled, cackled, and sang at the tops of their lungs. I had no doubt some of them had been brought here for good reasons originally, their mental health far from stable, but none of that could explain the madness I heard roaring from dozens of combined throats.
I was at a loss to understand it, but I imagined they’d been imprisoned here, silent and motionless in their cells for years. Countless quiet hours had been imposed upon unbalanced minds. Now that they’d finally been released, they had gone completely mad.
Doors shook with powerful blows. Wired windows cracked, spitting flecks of glass. Door handles rattled under furious hands. From somewhere, wisps of smoke had crept into the hallway. I wondered if one of the upper floors was ablaze.
A pair of people rounded the corner at the nurse’s station, heading our way. Nurse Miranda was in the lead and right behind her was the orderly I’d beaten down to escape this hellhole a week ago.
“You!” Miranda screamed.
There was a light in her eyes I didn’t like. I was glad I had her pistol, because right then I was sure she would have emptied the gun in our direction. I lifted the gun and found that I either had no compulsion against harming her, or Dr. Meng’s state had freed me. The two slowed as they saw the gun in my steady hand.
“Put it down, Draith,” Miranda said.
“No,” I said. “I’m free. Just like the rest of them.”
They both advanced, their hands up with open palms. They wore expressions akin to people approaching a strange growling dog in their living room. There’s a good doggie.
I took a step back, but my gun didn’t waver. Miranda turned toward the orderly, her eyes were wide. “He must have killed her,” she said.