by P. W. Child
The velocity of his tumble sent his heavy kilt lashing forward when his body stopped short. On his lower back he could feel the awful confirmation of the upturned raiment. If that was not affirmation enough of the ensuing nightmare, the crisp air on his buttocks did the trick.
“Oh Christ! Not again,” he moaned through the smell of mud and manure as the roaring laughter of the crowd punished him. “On the upside,” he said to himself as he sat up, “in the morning I won’t remember this. That’s right! It won’t matter.”
But he was a terrible journalist for neglecting to remember that the flashing lights sporadically blinding him from a short distance away meant that even while he would forget the ordeal, pictures would prevail. For a moment Sam just sat there, wishing he had not been as painfully traditional; wishing he had worn briefs, or at least a thong! Moragh’s toothless mouth was wide open in laughter as she wobbled closer to collect him.
“Dun’t ya worreh, sweeteh!” she chuckled. “Those’r nee the werst eyv seen!”
With one swift movement the stout lass pulled him to his feet. Sam was too drunk and nauseous to fight her off as she dusted his kilt off and copped a feel while she helped herself to a bit of comedy at his expense.
“Oi! Eh, lady...” he blundered his words. His arms flailed like a drugged flamingo as he tried to recover his composure. “Watch yer hands there!”
“Sam! Sam!” he heard from somewhere inside the bubble of cruel mocking and whistling coming from the big grey tent.
“Purdue?” he called, searching the thick muddy lawn for his tankard.
“Sam! Come, we have to go! Sam! Stop playing around with the fat woman!” Purdue staggered along, slurring as he neared.
“What ye seh?” Moragh shouted at the insult. Scowling, she left Sam’s side to give Purdue her full attention.
“Some ice on that, mate?” the bartender asked Purdue.
Sam and Purdue had entered the clubhouse on wavering legs after most of the people had already vacated their seats, opting to go outside and see the flame eaters during the drum show.
“Aye! Ice for both of us,” Sam cried, holding the side of his head where the stone had connected. Purdue swaggered by his side, arm held aloft to order two meads while they nursed their injuries.
“My God, that woman hits like Mike Tyson,” Purdue remarked, as he pressed the ice pack against his right brow, the place where Moragh’s first shot had marked her discontent at his uttering. Her second had landed just short of his left cheekbone, and Purdue could not help but be just a tad impressed at her combination.
“Well, she throws knives like an amateur,” Sam chipped in, as he clenched the glass in his hand.
“You do know that she did not really aim to hit you, right?” the barman reminded Sam. He gave it some thought and retorted, “But then, she is daft to make such a wager. I won double my money back.”
“Aye, but she bet against herself at four times the odds, laddie!” the barman cackled heartily. “She didn’t get this reputation by being stupid, eh?”
“Ha!” Purdue exclaimed, his eyes glued to the TV screen behind the bar. It was the very reason he had come looking for Sam in the first place. Something he saw on the news earlier had struck him as reason for concern, and he wanted to sit there until the bulletin repeated so he could show Sam.
On the next hour the screen displayed exactly what he had been waiting for. He edged forward, knocking over some glasses on the counter. “Look!” he exclaimed. “Look, Sam! Isn’t that the hospital where our dear Nina is at the moment?”
Sam watched the reporter talk about the drama that had hit the well-known hospital just hours before. It alarmed him instantly. The two men exchanged looks of concern.
“We have to go and get her, Sam,” Purdue insisted.
“If I were sober I would go right now, but we can’t travel to Germany in this state,” Sam lamented.
“That’s not a problem, my friend,” Purdue smiled in his usual mischievous way. He lifted his glass and emptied the last bit of alcohol from it. “I have a private jet and a crew who can fly us there while we sleep it off. Much as I’m reluctant to fly to Detlef’s neck of the woods again, this is Nina we are speaking of.”
“Aye,” Sam agreed. “I don’t want her staying there one more night. Not if I can help it.”
Purdue and Sam left the festivities, thoroughly shitfaced and somewhat knackered by cuts and scratches, determined to get their heads cleared and come to the aid of the other third of their social alliance.
As the night fell over the Scottish coast they left in their trail the jovial abandon, listening to the bagpipes fade. It was a harbinger of more serious things, where their momentary recklessness and fun would have to give way to the urgent rescue of Dr. Nina Gould, who was sharing space with a loose killer.
Chapter 9 – Cry of the Faceless
Nina was terrified. She’d slept through most of the morning and early afternoon, but Dr. Fritz had her taken to the examination room for her eye tests as soon as the police had allowed them to move around. The ground floor was being heavily guarded both by police as well as the on-site security company who had sacrificed two of their men during the night. The second floor was off-limits for anyone not confined there, or the medical staff.
“You’re fortunate you were able to sleep through all the madness, Dr. Gould,” Nurse Marx told Nina as she came to check on her in the evening.
“I don’t even know what happened, really. There were security men killed by an intruder?” Nina frowned. “That’s what I was able to make out by the drips and drabs of what was discussed. Nobody could tell me what the hell is really going on.”
Marlene looked around to make sure nobody saw her telling Nina the details.
“We’re not supposed to alarm the patients with too much information, Dr. Gould,” she said under her breath, pretending to check Nina’s vitals. “But last night, one of our janitors saw someone kill one of the security men. Of course, he did not stick around to see who it was.”
“Did they catch the intruder?” Nina asked seriously.
The nurse shook her head. “That is why the place is in lockdown. They are searching the hospital for anyone who isn’tt authorized to be here, but so far no luck.”
“How is that possible? He must have slipped out before the cops came,” Nina speculated.
“That’s what we think too. I just don’t understand what he was looking for that was worth the lives of two men,” Marlene said. She gave a deep sigh and decided to change the subject. “How is your sight today? Better?”
“Same,” Nina replied indifferently. Clearly other things were on her mind.
“With the interference now, it will take a bit longer to get your results. But as soon as we know, we can start treatment.”
“I hate feeling like this. I’m drowsy all the time and now I can hardly see more than a fuzzy rendition of the people I encounter,” Nina moaned. “You know, I need to get in touch with my friends and family so that they will know I’m okay. I cannot stay here forever.”
“I understand, Dr. Gould,” Marlene sympathized, glancing back at her other patient opposite Nina who was stirring in his bed. “Let me go check on Sam over there.”
As Nurse Marx approached the burn victim, Nina watched him open his eyes and look at the ceiling as if he could see something they could not. Then a sorrowful nostalgia came over her and she whispered to herself.
“Sam.”
Nina’s fading sight catered to her curiosity as she watched Sam the patient lift his hand and clutch Nurse Marx’s wrist, but she could not discern the expression on his face. Nina’s own reddened skin, damaged by the toxic air of Chernobyl, was virtually completely healed. But still she felt as if she were dying. Nausea and dizziness prevailed, while her vitals showed only improvement. For someone as adventurous and fiery as the Scottish historian, such perceived weaknesses were unacceptable and dealt her a considerable amount of frustration.
She coul
d hear whispering before Nurse Marx shook her head, negating whatever he had requested. Then nurse pulled free of the patient and briskly left without looking at Nina. The patient, however, was looking at Nina. That much she could see. But she had no idea why. Characteristically, she confronted him.
“What is it, Sam?”
He did not look away, yet he remained quiet, as if he hoped she would forget that she had addressed him. Trying to sit up, he groaned in pain and fell back on his pillow again. He sighed wearily. Nina decided to leave him be, but then his hoarse words broke the silence between them, demanding her attention.
“Y-you know…know…the man they’re looking for?” he stammered. “You know? The intruder?”
“Aye,” she replied.
“He is after m-me. It’s me he is looking for, Nina. A-and tonight…he is coming to kill me,” he said in a quivering mumble of mispronounced words. It ran Nina’s blood cold, what he said, because she had not expected the culprit to be searching for anything in her vicinity. “Nina?” he urged for a response.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I am,” he affirmed, to her dread.
“Look, how do you know who it is? Did you see him here? Did you see him with your own eyes? Because if you didn’t, chances are you’re just being paranoid, my friend,” she stated, hoping to help him think over his assessment to bring him some clarity. She also hoped that he was mistaken, as she was in no condition to be evading a killer. She saw his wheels turn as he considered her words. “Another thing,” she added, “if you cannot even remember who you are or what happened to you, how do you know that some faceless assailant is after you?”
Nina was not aware of it, but her choice of words reversed all of the effects the young man was suffering from – memories now flooded back in. His eyes grew wide in terror as she spoke, piercing her with their black gaze so strongly that she could see it even through her dwindling sight.
“Sam?” she asked. “What is it?”
“Mein Gott, Nina!” he wheezed. It was actually a scream, but the damage to his voice box smothered it into a mere hysterical whisper. “Faceless, you say! F-face-faceless! He was…Nina, the man who set me on fire…!”
“Aye? What about him?” she pushed, although she knew what he was revealing. She just wanted more details, if she could get them.
“The man who tried to kill me…h-he had…no face!” the horrified patient wailed. If he could cry, he would have sobbed at the memory of the monstrous man who’d pursued him after the game that night. “He caught up with me and he set me on fire!”
“Nurse!” Nina hollered. “Nurse! Somebody! Please help!”
Two nurses came running with quizzical expressions. Nina pointed to the upset patient and exclaimed, “He just remembered his attack. Please give him something for the shock!”
They raced to his aid and pulled the curtains, administering a sedative to calm him. Nina felt her own lethargy threaten, but she tried to unravel the strange puzzle by herself. Was he serious? Was he coherent enough to make such an accurate call or was he making it up? She doubted that he was insincere. After all, the man could hardly move on his own or utter a sentence without struggle. He certainly would not be so frantic if he were not convinced that his incapacitated state would cost him his life.
“God, I wish Sam was here to help me think,” she murmured as her mind begged to sleep. “Even Purdue would do, if he could refrain from trying to kill me this time.” It was coming on dinner time already and, since neither of them expected visitors, Nina was free to sleep if she wished. Or so she thought.
Dr. Fritz smiled as he walked in. “Dr. Gould, I’m just coming to give you something for the eye problem.”
“Shit,” she muttered. “Hello doctor. What are you giving me?”
“Just a treatment to alleviate the tightening of the capillaries in your eyes. I have reason to believe that your sight is being impaired by constricted circulation in your ocular area. If you have any trouble throughout the night you can just call on Dr. Hilt. He’ll be on duty again tonight and I’ll check in with you in the morning, okay?”
“Alright, doctor,” she agreed, watching him inject the unknown substance into her arm. “Do you have the test results yet?”
Dr. Fritz pretended not to hear her at first, but Nina repeated her question. He did not look up at her, apparently concentrating on what he was doing. “We’ll discuss that tomorrow, Dr. Gould. I should have the lab results back by then.” He finally looked up at her with failed reassurance, but she was in no mood to pursue the matter any further. By now her roommate had calmed down and grown silent. “Good night, dear Nina.” He smiled kindly and pressed Nina’s hand before closing her file and replacing it at the foot of her bed.
“Good night,” she hummed, as the drug took course and lulled her mind away.
Chapter 10 – Escape from Safety
A boney finger poked Nina’s arm, starting her into a frightful awakening. Reflexively she clamped her hand down onto the touched area, unexpectedly catching a hand under her palm that scared her half to death. Her inadequate eyes sprang wide open to see what was accosting her, but apart from the piercing dark spots under the brow of the plastic mask, she could not discern the face.
“Nina! Shh,” the empty face implored in a soft rasp. It was her roommate, standing by her bed in his white hospital gown. The tubes had been removed from his arms, leaving trails of oozing crimson wiped away carelessly on the barren white skin around it.
“W-what the hell?” she frowned. “Seriously?”
“Listen, Nina. Just keep very quiet and listen to me,” he whispered, sinking to his haunches a little so that his body was obscured from the entrance of the room by Nina’s bed. Only his head was elevated above so that he could speak in her ear. “The man I told you about is going to come looking for me. I have to find a hiding place until he is gone.”
But he was out of luck. Nina was drugged into delirium and did not care much for his fate. She just nodded until her free floating eyes disappeared under the cover of heavy lids again. He sighed in despair and looked around, his breath increasing with every passing moment. Yes, there was the police presence protecting the patients, but honestly, armed protection hadn’t even saved the men who were employed by it, let alone those who were unarmed!
It would be best, Sam the patient thought, if he hid instead of risking an escape. If he were to be discovered, he could then deal with the assailant accordingly and hopefully Dr. Gould would not be harmed by any ensuing violence. Nina’s ears had improved vastly since she had begun losing her sight; this allowed her to she stayed tuned-in to the shuffling feet of her paranoid roommate. One after the other, his footsteps withered away from her, but not towards his bed. She kept drifting in and out of sleep, but her eyes remained shut.
Soon after, deep behind Nina’s ocular cavities a numbing pain had blossomed, bleeding out in a flower of hurt through her brain. Nerve connections quickly introduced her receptors to the splitting migraine it was causing, and Nina yelped out loud in her sleep. Suddenly, the gradually growing headache filled her eyeballs and set her brow on fire with fever.
“Oh my God!” she shouted. “My head! My head is killing me!”
Her cries echoed through the practical silence of the dead of night in the ward, promptly summoning the medical staff to her side. Nina’s shivering thumbs finally fumbled their way to the emergency button and she pressed it repeatedly to illicit help from the night nurse. A new nurse, fresh from the academy, came rushing in.
“Dr. Gould? Dr. Gould, are you alright? What is the matter, dear?” she asked.
“M-my…,” Nina stuttered through her drug-induced disorientation, “head is exploding with pain! It sits right behind my eyes now and it is killing me. My God! It feels as if my skull is cracking open.”
“I’ll go and get Dr. Hilt quickly. He just came out of surgery. Just relax. He’ll be by just now, Dr. Gould.” The nurse turned and hastened out for help.
>
“Thank you,” Nina sighed, exhausted from the hideous pain, no doubt courtesy of her eyes. Briefly, she lifted her head to check on Sam the patient’s , but he was absent. Nina frowned. I could have sworn he spoke to me while I was sleeping. She thought about it further. No. I must have been dreaming.
“Dr. Gould?”
“Aye? Sorry, I can hardly see,” she apologized.
“Dr. Hilt is with me.” Turning to the doctor she said, “Excuse me, I just have to run next door for a moment to help Frau Mittag with her bed pan.”
“Of course, Nurse. Please take your time,” the doctor replied. Nina heard the nurse’s feet patter out lightly. She looked at Dr. Hilt and informed him of her exact complaint. Unlike Dr. Fritz, who was very active and liked to diagnose swiftly, Dr. Hilt was a better listener. He waited for Nina to explain precisely how the headache settled behind her eyes before responding.
“Dr. Gould? Can you at least see me properly?” he asked. “The headaches usually are directly connoted with the impending blindness, you see?”
“Not at all,” she said morosely. “This blindness seems to be getting worse every day and Dr. Fritz has not done anything constructive about it. Can you please just give me something for the pain? It’s almost unbearable.”
He removed his surgical mask to speak clearly. “Of course, my dear.”
She saw him tilt his head, looking over to Sam’s bed. “Where is the other patient?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe he went to the toilet. I remember he told Nurse Marx that he had no intention of using a bed pan.”
“Why would he not use the toilet here?” the doctor asked, but Nina was quite frankly becoming really sick of reporting on her roommate when she needed help to alleviate her splitting headache.
“I don’t know!” she snapped at him. “Look, can you please just give me something for the pain?”
