Page 86 of No Quarter

“I don’t know,” said Charlie. “He wasn’t in his office, but he must be around here somewhere. We’ll find him.”

“I have a very bad feeling about Doctor Whitmore,” Will said. “The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that he knows something about Valerie’s disappearance.”

“Come on, there’s no time to talk.” Charlie said, rushing away.

Will looked around as if he sensed something.

Valerie tried to open her mouth to scream, yell, cry out their names, anything, but the paralyzing medications were still in full flow. She watched with abject dread as Will ran after Charlie, their footsteps disappearing far away.

Valerie tried to move, again and again. But the only evidence that she hadanycontrol over her body was that she now had a slight tingling feeling in her right foot.

Suddenly, the wall came away, and the bright light stung Valerie’s eyes.

Fort a moment, all she could see was the light from the hallway, but then as her eyes adjusted, she made out the serious, evil expression of Doctor Whitmore. He was looking at her intently. All evidence of the man she had gotten to know the last few days had burned away. All that was left was an evil, twisted human being who was so good at deception that he’d managed to pull the wool over the eyes of the FBI’s best profilers.

All she could do was watch in horror as he sneered at her, before calmly reaching out and grabbing at her. He pulled her out onto the carpeted floor. But Valerie couldn’t feel it. All she could feel were the pins and needles in her foot.

Doctor Whitmore’s grip tightened. Valerie tried to wriggle free, but she couldn’t move. She felt a dull sensation as her body was being dragged along the carpeted floor, like some kind of animal in a butcher’s ready to be gutted and strung up.

Horrified and terrified, she watched as Doctor Whitmore dragged her from one corridor to another. He didn’t say a word; his eyes were cold and dead as he moved through the labyrinthine building with frightening efficiency that spoke of years spent at Elmwood Psychiatric Retreat.

“We’re going back into the basement, Valerie,” he whispered. “Just like the night you chased me down there. A fitting place to end your investigation, don’t you think?”

Valerie tried to scream, but still, nothing came out.

The basement doors soon came into view, and after they were opened, Valerie was dragged down the stairs, thudding against each step until they reached the floor below in the dark.

“It’s a good thing you thought poor Saldana was the killer,” Doctor Whitmore said, now in a louder voice. “He would have been the only down here at this time of night. It’s ironic that you’ve taken away the only person who might have saved you, if they’d stumbled across my little scheme.”

Valerie felt something, a loosening in her throat. She was now able to let out a garbled noise, but still unable to scream.

The doctor looked surprised. “Well, you’re stronger than I thought. You’re really fighting against that dose I gave you.”

He tugged at her feet, pulling her along the basement floor and then over to the boiler room.

“You know,” he said. “Elmwood isn’tthatold, but it’s old enough to still have a working furnace. I think we’ll fire it up tonight, hmmm?”

Dropping Valerie’s legs, Doctor Whitmore turned to a large metal furnace in the corner of the room. Steam was already emanating from it. Valerie could see the doctor busying himself with it.

A fear Valerie had never known came to her.

He’s going to burn me alive, she thought.

With a surge of adrenaline, her heart raced. And in that moment of fear, a voice came from the darkness. It was her mother’s voice. Laughing. Cackling.

Valerie tried to push the hallucination away as she had done before, but being paralyzed, she had nowhere to look but to the shadowy corner of the room.

The voice was coming from there, and in the flickering orange glow that came from the now open mouth of the boiler, Valerie saw the pale face of her mother emerge from the darkness.

She was crawling on all fours, her clothes in tatters. She scuttled up to Valerie, just an inch from her face.

“You want to know about Daddy?” she barked, licking her scratched lips. “No time. No time.”

She looked up at Doctor Whitmore, who was oblivious to Valerie’s internal hallucinations. Her mother laughed in his direction.

“You’re going to cookrealgood. I might have a taste.” She laughed and then moved backwards as if in reverse, until she was no longer there, melting into the shadows.

Valerie’s mind almost shattered at the sight. The terror was overwhelming. But she held onto the thought, the hope, that the hallucination could do no more than scare her. She had more pressing matters to attend to: Her life.

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