Chapter 5: Finding Jamie

**Jack's POV**

It took a lot of investigating, mainly from Sophie (which was only achieved through Bunny), but we were able to find out where Jamie was taken.

Saint Dymphna's Asylum.

"Asylum? What's that?" I asked Bunny while we were looking on what the mortals called the
"internet". Jamie taught me how to search using a "computer", a very complex machine, the location of buildings and structures around the world. It was tiring, though we were only sitting down, or in my case, floating, inside the library. But it was worth it.

Remembering the times I spent with Jamie sent another wave of guilt agony as I recalled Sophie's words.

"It's a place where the put the crazy drongos," Bunny said, bluntly. Bunny knew that if he sugar-coated the explanation, I would only mull it over and try to understand it… but it didn't make the piercing guilt and duller.

I shook my head and searched on the "website" called "Google" the asylum. It was four days after Bunny "investigated" Sophie, and now we were in the Burgess Library, in the farthest corner of the room. The ceiling fans whirred overhead and we were surrounded by stacks of uncategorized books, to refrain from attracting unwanted attention on the fact that a computer is searching up mental hospitals all by itself.

"There it is!" I exclaimed, undaunted by the "Please observe silence" rule of the library.

Bunny, being the six-foot tall Pooka he was, noticed a few of the children accompanying their parents turning heads. One child even stood up and walked over to the aisle next to them, thinking that was where the sound came from.

"Frostbite, we gotta go," Bunny hissed in my ear.

I nodded. I jotted the address in my palm with a "ballpen" and immediately shut the computer. The humans in the library shivered as a cold wind blew through the door. And just as the child realized that the sound originated from the aisle opposite, we were gone.

The address took me to a small village in Missouri; the asylum itself was located near the outskirts. It was near enough so that supplies from the nearby village can be delivered easily but far enough to ensure isolation from the majority of the population. The landscape was mostly made of grass and shrubbery. Gnarled trees that have lost their leaves to the coming winter dotted the landscape. I breathed in the crisp, autumn air.

The structure itself towered over the small village. It had almost a church-like quality to it: a rectangular structure lined with windows that were made of old bricks was lined with buttresses that connected to several towers. The entrance was a simple glass door, yet a sloping roof lined with shutters tinged with yellow ochre spread over the door, shielding it from the elements, like a bird's wing protecting its young.

I asked the Wind to take me over to one of the towers. It wasn't too high; yet it was high enough to allow an individual access to a view that spanned for miles, where the slightest movement can be detected with the set of binoculars that was conveniently hanging on the peg behind the door.

I was deposited in the west tower lining the front of the asylum. Three other towers were stationed on the remaining corners of the facility. I walked the air, or "sky-walked" as Jamie used to call it, lining the buttress to an open window above the shuttered roof. I breezed inside.

Numerous employees typing in computers, others talking on telephones or "mobile phones" like ones Jamie used to have, greeted my eyes. The office was modest in size, no one was cramped, yet some had to move to make room for bustling workers with paper to deposit to the other sections of the room. A glass window lined the wall parallel to me, and outside, bustling workers wearing white uniforms, some leading people, others not, walked by, oblivious to my presence. I smiled bitterly.

A section of the glass opened as an employee walked inside. I gasped. The glass slid back in again, taking its place among the—what I realized were— numerous panes of glass that lined the wall. I waited for another person to walk outside before I flew over his head and through the door.

I groaned. The place was huge. The roof outside belittled the size of the place. I was on a raised platform that hugged the sides of the rectangular-shaped infrastructure. I was on the ground floor; I noticed the front door across the yawning void as it opened to let in bright sunlight only to be muted as the glass door closed again. Four corridors that branched out to more cells, offices or stairs were located in the four corners of the building. The ceiling was a cathedral, and the void below was dotted with lights as the cells grew darker and darker.

There must be a basement level, too. I groaned to myself.

There must be something I could do… Think Jack, think!

.

.

.

.

Wait a minute…

"Wind!" I shouted. I was undaunted by the multitude of people here. However, I chuckled (who knew I had a sadistic sense of humor?) when the people stopped all at once and glanced around nervously for the source of the sudden burst of wind that originated from who-knows-where.

"Spread out! We're looking for a man in his early-twenties, brown hair, brown eyes," I spoke like a commander addressing to his army, though mirth laced my voice at the idea of me and the wind flying through this whole building looking for one boy.

He's a man, now, though. I thought in a bitter tone.

I shook my head. Now was not the time for self-pity.

"Ready!" I yelled. I and the Wind positioned ourselves in the four corridors of the hall. The corridor entrances on the floors above and the floors below were also taken up by the Wind.

"Go!"

Hi guys! How am i doing? R&R! :))

PS: Saint Dymphna is real saint. She's the saint of the mentally ill. And I am not aware ofa Saint Dymphna's Asylum in Missouri... if there is.. then, WOW. ^.^