by Peter James
She climbed into the car and sat in silence as they drove away, watching the lights of the traffic and the darkness.
‘You’ve had no more dreams, since?’ he said.
‘No.’
‘I wouldn’t talk to anyone else. I wouldn’t dig any further, Sam. Try to forget about it. It’ll heal in time.’
‘I wish I could believe that.’
‘Don’t you?’
She shook her head.
‘If the mind’s got the ability to see the future, Sam, then I’m sure it’s got the ability to forget the past.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Forget it all. The hooded man’s dead and buried. Both of them are now. Bury him in your own mind, too.’ He tossed his cigarette butt out of the window. ‘Forget it. Forget the past. It’s over. You’ve met your monster – isn’t that what someone said to you?’
She nodded.
‘You’ve met your monster – all your monsters – and you’ve beaten them.’
‘Life’s full of monsters, Ken.’
‘Life’s full of survivors, too.’
Maybe it was an hour later that Ken dropped her off at Wapping. Maybe it was several hours. She seemed to think they’d stopped and had a drink, or perhaps she was confusing that with another time. Her head was a blur of burning pain and she was shaking all over.
She went into the lift and pressed the button for the fourth floor and the door slid shut and the light came on and they began to move upwards, slowly, shuffling and clanging, it seemed to be going slower than ever. It stopped, with the same jerk that always unbalanced her, but this time it seemed even more vicious and she was thrown against the side.
There was a sharp pop, and the light went out. She felt the sting of glass on her face, and yelped.
Then there was silence. She waited for the door to open, but nothing happened.
She fumbled her fingers down the control panel, trying to find the round ‘Door Open’ button, her heart thumping. It ought to be at the bottom of the panel, she knew. She felt the indents of the floor selectors, reached the bottom one, then nothing. Just cold smooth metal. She moved her hand up, counting. Ground, First, Second, Third, Fourth, then smooth metal again. She pressed a button at random. Nothing. Tried another. Nothing. She gave the door a thump with her fist and heard the dull metallic boom echo around. She thumped it again.
Alarm bell, she thought. There was an alarm bell. Higher up; or was it the last button? She pushed each button in turn. Nothing. Nothing. Suddenly the door began to open, slowly, scraping, and her heart leaped with relief.
Then she screamed.
Screamed and fell back across the tiny lift.
Pressed herself hard against the wall as Claire came in through the door with a sickle in her hand, raised above her head.
‘No! Claire, no!’
She flung her hands up and felt a raw terrible pain as the grimy, muddy blade sliced into her arm. She tried to fend Claire off with a crutch, but the demented woman tore it out of her hand and flung it, clattering, into the corridor.
‘Richard!’ she screamed, ‘Oh my God Richard, help me!’
The blade smashed into her hand, slicing off fingers, then into her chest.
‘Richard!’
It gouged into her chest again, searing her with pain, then it crashed into her head; she heard the clang; felt the agonising pain, closed her eyes, opened them again, saw Claire’s face right up against hers, her eyes bloodshot, flooded with crazed pleasure, saw the hand rise up again, then a million red hot spikes were being ground into her skull.
Claire jerked sharply backwards; Sam saw her dimly, skidding across the floor, a hand holding her hair, shaking her head like a rag doll, saw her flung against the wall, a startled look in her eyes, saw the sickle smash into the wall, then drop out of her hand. Richard. Richard shaking her, wild with rage, smashing her head into the wall, again, then again, until she slumped senseless onto the floor. He turned towards her.
‘Bugs?’
Sam stumbled forwards, reeling. Richard was now a dim blur. She fell towards him.
‘Bugs?’
There was silence.
‘Bugs? You OK?’
The blood covered her face, poured down it, poured through her clothes.
‘Bugs?’
Light came on. Brilliant dazzling white hospital light, a doctor staring into her face, and beyond him she saw the painting of a nude on the wall, and she realised it wasn’t a doctor, but it was Richard.
‘You’re OK, Bugs, it’s all right. You’re OK.’
She ran her hand across her face and stared at it. Water. Perspiration; it was only perspiration. She stared at her hands; counted her fingers, slowly: they were all there; not a mark.
‘Was that another?’ he said. ‘Was that another of your nightmares?’
She shook her head. ‘No. It was different. Different.’
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
She was panting, she realised, panting and gulping down air. She lay back and listened to the sound of her own heartbeat pounding inside her chest that was as tight as a drumskin. ‘It was different, this time. It was fine. Just a dream,’ she said, loudly, clearly, as though she wanted the whole world to hear; as though, if she said it loudly and positively enough, she might even believe it herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, and saw Claire’s head smash into the wall again, and again. Saw the glazed beaten expression in Claire’s eyes as she slumped to the floor. Then she looked back at Richard and smiled.
‘It was just a dream.’
available from
THE ORION PUBLISHING GROUP
Dreamer £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-7678-8
Alchemist £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-1729-3
Host £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-3745-1
Faith £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-3711-6
Possesion £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-3746-8
Sweet Heart £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-7677-1
Twilight £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-7679-5
Denial £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-2688-2
Prophecy £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-1737-8
The Truth £6.99
PETER JAMES
978-0-7528-1666-1
All Orion/Phoenix titles are available at your local bookshop or from the following address:
Mail Order Department
Littlehampton Book Services
FREEPOST BR535
Worthing, West Sussex, BN13 3BR
telephone 01903 828503, facsimile 01903 828802
e-mail [email protected]
(Please ensure that you include full postal address details)
Payment can be made either by credit/debit card (Visa, Mastercard, Access and Switch accepted) or by sending a £ Sterling cheque or postal order made payable to Littlehampton Book Services.
DO NOT SEND CASH OR CURRENCY
Please add the following to cover postage and packing
UK and BFPO:
£1.50 for the first book, and 50p for each additional book to a maximum of £3.50
Overseas and Eire:
£2.50 for the first book plus £1.00 for the second book and 50p for each additional book ordered
* * *
harethis-inline-share-buttons">share
