Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,91

down beers. Ducking into the white room near the back of the strip club, I found the two Doberman pinschers waiting for me. Everything normal. Yet, when we stepped into the elevator, the canine pushed the button to the first floor of the subbasement rather than the third, where I always met the old man, causing a fresh rush of tension to gather in my shoulders.

As the doors slid open with a soft hiss, I waited for one dog to lead the way as it always did, but neither moved. I looked down at the dogs, but both were staring straight ahead.

“Come along, Gage,” Chang called, his disembodied voice dancing down the hallway.

Frowning, I stepped off the elevator and walked down the dimly lit white hall before turning a corner to enter the main room. My mouth fell open as my eyes struggled to take in the enormous garden spread before me. Much like the third floor of the warehouse that I always visited with him, the first floor appeared to be an enormous room with two-story ceilings. Yet instead of the usual assortment of tables and shelves filled with rare items, the room housed an enormous garden that would have put Versailles to shame. It somehow looked organized and elegant as well as wild and untamed all at the same time. Lush flowers bloomed around trees that stretched up to the ceiling. But the most spectacular thing was the light. I couldn’t see a single bulb overhead, but the room was as bright as midday despite the fact that we were several feet underground.

It was only when I felt a small hand pat me on the arm that I pulled my eyes away from the garden to look down at Chang. The wily old Chinese man looked older than the Cairo pyramids, but there was a twinkle in his brown eyes that reminded me that appearances could be so deceiving. He raised a large metal watering can and I took it without thinking.

“Come, help me,” he said with a wave of his hand before he started down a winding gravel path that disappeared into the garden. I followed him, parting the limbs of a weeping willow that hung over the path. The light that cast the room in a golden glow dimmed as we walked deeper into the garden, coming under the shade of so many massive trees.

“It looks like you’ve been busy,” I said, struggling to keep one eye on the little old man with the cane while my attention kept getting drawn to the garden.

Chang gave a little chuckle and shook his head. “I have had this garden for years. It is very relaxing to wander here.”

“Yes, but with everything going on topside, I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

The little old man paused and looked up at me. “The world is falling apart. Indianapolis has disappeared like Atlantis and Pompeii. Where would you be if you fear it is your last moments?”

I looked around, taking in the general serenity of the place. Except for the sound of water flowing past the banks of some distant stream that was cutting through the room, it was silent. The air was thick and heavy with humidity and the scent of flowers. It was as if the outside world had ceased to exist beyond Chang’s private Eden.

I looked down at the old man and gave him a weak smile. “I understand.”

“You were always a smart boy, Gage,” he said with a wink. He continued walking with me, following a couple paces behind until he paused before an outcropping of what looked to be limestone. He pointed to several beds of light violet-colored flowers huddled near the rocks. “Give those flowers a drink for me.”

With a nod, I walked over and watered them with the can he handed me. As I stood there, I peered closer at the flowers, taking in their thick leaves and delicate buds. Raising the watering can, I jerked around to Chang, who was watching me with a look of expectation.

“These are Cry Pansies, aren’t they?” I demanded. Chang nodded, his smile growing. Putting the can on the ground, I knelt down for a closer look. “These are extinct.” I barely controlled the urge to reach out and touch one of the blooms. “Not even the Towers have these in their greenhouses.”

“Of course not,” Chang snapped, drawing my gaze up to him again. He waved his hand at the flowers. “No magic or potion value. The Towers