"Got it," I answered. So much for being helpful. Another minute passed in silence. Finally, with a dejected sigh, she rolled down the van window and pushed the intercom button.

"Who is it?" asked the tinny and static-laced voice of the intercom.

"Julie Shackleford. I'm here to visit my father-Raymond Shackleford. He is a patient of the Doctors Nelson." There was a long pause before the heavy, iron gate creaked open under hydraulic pressure. We drove through.

"Doctors Nelson?"

"Lucius and Joan. Husband and wife team. One is a psychiatrist, the other is a psychologist. I can't remember which is which though."

"What's the difference?"

"Beats me. I was a history major. You're the trivia nut," she replied. "They are actually both retired Hunters. They bought this place from the state when they left MHI. They're good folks. I've known them since I was a kid. They are getting up in age, but they do really good work here. The Nelsons have done some great research. They help a lot of people with special problems."

"Special problems?"

"Mostly they work with regular mental problems, like any treatment center, but they specialize in people who have had monster encounters. Not everybody has a flexible mind like those of us who become Hunters," she answered.

I had never thought about that. I was still internally freaking out about the things that were happening to me. I could only imagine how some people would react from that kind of trauma. Apparently here was my answer.

We parked in the near empty lot under a large tree. Thick leaves dangled across the windshield. Julie cautioned me to make sure the door was locked. Her suggestion made sense considering that there were crazy people roaming the lawn, and we had something like a dozen firearms, grenade launchers, a flamethrower, edged weapons, and several pounds of high explosive in the back of our huge Ford passenger van.

The grounds around the asylum were immaculate. The lawns were green, and comfortable chairs had been placed in various strategic locations for the patients to make themselves at ease. A group of casually dressed people were sitting in a circle, listening to one of their own tell a story. The woman was very animated, and obviously distressed.