The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

a rotating circle in the middle. Green or red, depending upon whether someone was inside for the inspection phase of returning to such a lovely workplace.

"Nice visit?"

Karl blinked, surprised anybody had spoken to him. He usually stood in the line, followed directions, got searched, and went on his way. No one had ever asked him anything so seemingly innocent.

The guard, a young guy Karl had never seen before, even smiled. He did take Karl's badge and record the number in one notebook before he crossed it off of another.

"Sure, same as usual," Karl said. "Family, you know. I live out here for a reason."

"Same here," the guard said, nodding. "Sometimes I wonder if we have the right people on the inside. Go on through. Room three is open."

Karl nodded and walked over to the door with the green circle. The guard waiting inside the small room was an older man he recognized.

"Gilmore," Davis said. "You know the routine. Turn out your pockets and strip. Anything strange happen?"

"No, sir. No more than a typical visit with my family. Didn't take anything out or bring anything in."

He emptied his pockets: a ring stuffed with too many keys, his badge, and some spare coin. Karl got undressed as quickly as he could. He didn't love this part of the routine, but it was indeed routine.

"Arms out, turn in a circle."

Karl did, watching Davis shake out his clothes. He'd thought a few times about telling his parents he wouldn't be visiting anymore because this took way too long. Annoying as the inspection was, that would be a bigger lie than he was comfortable telling.

"Get dressed and back to your apartment," the guard said. "Bit restless in there all day. They're asking for people not on shift to stay out of the way."

Karl stepped into the far busier main corridor, wondering what could have happened since he’d left that morning. He saw more gray-uniformed people walking past in both directions than usual for early Sunday evening, and they all seemed more than little bit nervous. It wasn't a full lockdown. Those were rare enough to fade to rumors, but telling folks to stay in at all was hardly normal. Whatever had the guard anxious was hitting everyone.

Andy had asked him to keep an eye out. Well, this might just be a good time to look around if everyone was distracted. He walked until he should have turned to the left to go to the staff apartments.

Without a backward glance, he turned right toward the medical records offices instead.

Karl stood up tall and walked with a purpose, wanting to look like he had somewhere to be even in his street clothes. He was getting a bit tired and frustrated with his job lately, but he didn't want to get fired or demoted for snooping, either.

He saw lights through the windows of several office doors he passed, but thankfully the records office was dark. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the hall was empty, then tried the door. Locked.

Karl pulled out his ring full of brass keys out and sorted through them. A buddy of his, another escapee from an all-Builder family, worked in maintenance and supply. Just a few weeks ago, he'd given Karl what he claimed was a master key, a special one that would open nearly any door in the place.

George Wood had been trying to work out how to make one for weeks, though he never would say why. Karl hadn't believed a word of it, but he hadn't tossed the key. He slid it slowly into the lock, expecting the key to break or nothing at all to happen. After a little shifting, the lock turned.

"I'll be damned..."

Karl opened the door and slipped inside, turning the lock again. He was in here all the time turning in new patient files or getting information, but he'd never been all that interested in looking around. The only thing he really wanted to learn more about was housed elsewhere, in the experimental medicine wing. He'd never manage to sneak into there.

And he couldn't get Andy's worried eyes out of his mind.

He started one of the gas lamps away from the door, leaving it low so it wouldn't be obvious someone was in here. The electrics were far too bright. The skylights let in more light than he expected, so it didn't take much.

The vast room was full of wooden-and-brass cabinets as far as he could see, and every one of them had several thick brown folders stacked on top. The whole thing was an overwhelming mess—one Karl had no idea how to start digging into for answers.

The huge number of new cases a couple of weeks ago that drove everyone to exhaustion could work in his favor. If the towering piles on every cabinet were any indication, this office was as short-staffed as Karl's nursing department.

He walked deeper into the huge office, lighting lamps as he went until he got closer to the windows. The sunset was still an hour or so away, and plenty of light was streaming through. Even with that, Karl couldn't get a handle on how things were supposed to be organized. Some of the labels seemed to be alphabetical, but the system started over again and again. He finally saw the cards tucked into brass holders on the cabinets at the end of each aisle.

They were organized by what was wrong with the new admissions, then alphabetically. Karl frowned, wondering if they possibly had that many patients to organize. He hardly ever went outside his own section, so this huge number he was unfamiliar with was entirely possible.

Karl kept walking, still not sure what he was looking for. He found sections for the people he usually cared for. Mania. Hysteria. Obsessive disorders. He knew what those were and exactly which of his patients suffered from each. Without more to go on, he'd never find anything.

His broad shoulders brushed against the stack of folders on