FROM AWAY ~ BOOK TWO
Page 16
The cabin is still. Silent. Dark.
~
Dawn sleeps. Restless.
Across the room, her father’s bed is unslept-in.
On the bedside table: Her tablet recharges.
To either side of her bed stand the couple she thinks of as the Waxes. Watching her. Motionless.
The woman holds a thin chain with a silver charm. It swings slightly in her grip. Occasionally catching the small shred of moonlight sneaking in the window.
Otherwise, the cabin is still. Silent. Dark.
~
Dawn sleeps. Restless. Around her neck is a thin chain with a silver charm.
On the bedside table: Her tablet recharges.
The people she thinks of as the Waxes lean over her bed from either side. Their lips nearly touching her ears.
Across the room, her father’s bed is unslept-in. If he’d been there, he might have heard their whispers.
The cabin is still. Dark.
~
Dawn is gone.
The cabin is still. Silent. Dark.
Empty.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Paula’s eyes open.
Almost immediately, they close again.
After weeks in darkness - with nothing required of them - everything is over-lit. Hot. Bright. Painful. Too much to handle.
An overexposed after-image burns on her corneas. In negative: A cage of rods, wires and tubes surrounds her. Nearly enough to explain her circumstances. She almost understands. Can’t quite put the pieces together.
She tries again. More slowly. Opens her eyes the tiniest sliver. A little more. Squinting. Cutting off the full flow of light with her lids and lashes. Just enough to discover...
She’s in a hospital. In a room. In a bed. In traction. Immobile.
How she’d arrived there is one step beyond her ability to recall. Just outside a door she can’t reach to open. A brutal trauma, she knows. Any more than that she’s hidden from herself for the time being.
Everything aches. Hurts. The pain seeps slowly into her consciousness. Receptors reintroducing themselves. One broken body part at a time. She feels each in turn. Remembers. One by one. Every hit. Every cut. Every invasion.
And as her memory of the incident returns, she begins to smile. The pain means she’s alive. The hospital room means she’s being looked after. The joy of simply surviving fills her heart. And so...
Paula laughs.
A soft chuckle initially. Abrasive in an unaccustomed throat. Broken ribs complaining with each shuddering inhalation. The laughter grows. In spite of the pain. Because of it. Expanding in both volume and intensity. From a chuckle to a chortle to a guffaw.
The world is so amazing. Who’d have thought she’d ever return to it after everything they did to her? The torture. The indignity. It’s wild. Altogether too fantastic.
Her barking wheeze genuinely loud now. Waking neighboring patients. Alerting the staff. Paula couldn’t stop it if she wanted to. And she doesn’t. She wants to revel in it. Announce to everyone in earshot that she’s survived.
As nurses enter, the laugh becomes an unstoppable wailing scream. Practically indistinguishable from tormented sobbing. Tears complete the image. Flowing down her cheeks in hot torrents.
The nurses rush forward. Trying to help. To calm. To console.
But she doesn’t need their reassurances.
Paula Fields is just so goddamned happy.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Deke Mackey Jr. has spent most of his life
sitting cross-legged in a corner. Rocking in place.
Knocking his head against the wall.
Quietly telling himself stories.
Recently? He’s been getting louder.
Occasionally, he can be found making trouble at:
www.dekemackeyjr.com