Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Squeak

If he had thought he was quick, he was wrong. The orderly had seen his hand slip under the tail of his oversized shirt, and had acted as soon as Adam had freed it from his waistband, by seizing his thin wrist and twisting it behind Adam's back. The gun tumbled out of his loose grip and skidded across the floor, bumping into a stop at his sister's head. The orderly continued to twist until Adam cried out in pain and crumpled to his knees in submission.

Fingers entangled in black hair in forcing the boy's gaze onto the upward slope to Dr. Wynn's glare.

He was by no means a patient man. It's why he became a doctor. And because society and the problems of normal people bored him, he elected to become the director of the most notorious psychiatric ward in the state. And this boy, who had come to his office a mere year ago ran his patience dangerously thin.

"After everything I did," Adam seethed. "Everything."

"We agreed that you'd bring him here without attracting attention, and look what you've done. Couldn't keep him from making a mess, could you? You've drawn more attention than I can afford to divert."

"Please...Let me go." Adam's lips trembled. His green eyes broke with angry tears.

Just looking at this scumbag made Dr. Wynn sick with pity.

"Are you insulting me? You just tried to kill your sister."

Eyes widened to saucers in denial. "N-no...I wasn't...I was—"

"Admit it. I can see right through you," Dr. Wynn said, "You're an impressionable halfwit— clearly unhinged and obsessed. If killing her will bring you satisfaction, then I'll readily deprive you of that."

"I wasn't trying to kill her, you idiot."

The vulnerability Adam expressed moments prior had been wiped clean from his gaunt face…

"I hope Michael gets you before I do."

Dr. Wynn narrowed his eyes. "Michael is unconscious. Severely wounded. Locked in a room. Drugged. He might be a freak of nature, but he's still human..."

"You're wrong about that," Adam said. "...He isn't human."

"I've heard enough." Dr. Wynn glanced at the orderly and cocked a brow.

Understanding the wordless order, the man quickly released his hold on Adam's arm and used that very hand to land a solid smack to the back of his head. He dropped Adam as soon as the boy's head went limp.

"Sleep tight…" muttered the orderly.

With a nod, Dr. Wynn said, "Ready one of the facility vehicles. I want their bodies as far from Smith's Grove as possible. Try the Fox River. And then come back and do away with his car sitting in the back."

The orderly hesitated.

"I thought...You were supposed to pay him…"

"Are you kidding? He's a loose end."

"But," the orderly's eyes flickered to the sister. "... she's..."

Judging by the man's expression, he wasn't especially comfortable with killing children. Dr. Wynn would also have his qualms too, but she seemed old enough.

"You know what talk can do to a place like this, don't you?" Dr. Wynn reasoned. "You're a smart, man and I'm sure your kids will come out to be the same. Now, what are you waiting for?"

The threat of losing his job was one he didn't want to challenge, so the orderly promptly left the room, brushing past the director a little too roughly for it to have been an accident. He didn't like it, but what other choice was there?

As the shadows of the hall swallowed his retreating form, Dr. Wynn looked at the teenager with disdain. Maybe, her idiot brother grazed her artery and she'll bleed to death. It'll be one problem he won't have to deal with himself.

The sooner he restrained Adam the sooner he can feel assured no one will discover Michael Myers's whereabouts.

He half turned, head peering down the hallway. The only sources of light came from the emergency exit sign glowing at the very end and the room in which he had entered. He could hear the sleet pelting the building from outside and couldn't recall the last time Smith's Grove had ever seen a storm of this magnitude.

What the hell was taking that orderly so long?

Then, he heard it like a feather on his eardrums. The squeak of something rubbing against a slick surface. He thought nothing of it, at first. Until the voice that followed:

"If you run, I'll kill you."