As if on cue, a sharp beep echoed in the air.
‘Yes!’ I focused on the sounds of the machines. They were real. I blocked the voices from my mind and fixated on the beep, able to imagine the machines that would be surrounding me. Blip, blip, blip, blip, on and on. I closed my eyes and the sound became louder. I had to remember all that I had seen. I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t….
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Harsh white light flared before me and I closed my eyes again as they watered. The blip of the machines cut through the quiet, pulsing from the walls as if the sound came from a professional amp on the loudest setting. It rushed over my skin and through my mind, stirring my adrenalin. I opened my eyes, giving myself time to adjust to the brightness.
I took a moment to get my bearings. I was back! My throat felt like I’d swallowed the Sahara Desert, but I’d returned to the real world, and it was definitely the real world. Everything had more depth, more feeling, more colour. Even the air in my lungs felt different, proving how wrong everything had felt in the Wastelands.
I studied the small grey room. I lay in a hospital bed with two chairs beside it. It wasn’t most cheerful décor around. As I tried to sit up, a blood pressure cuff inflated on my right arm, tightening until my fingers tingled.
My arms moved a mere fraction. I lifted my shoulders up, groaning when my body quivered with weakness. I studied the cannula in my wrist, attached to a drip. Heart monitor leads reached under the hospital gown I wore to my chest and a tube entered my nose, most likely how I’d received enough nutrients to survive.
The blips of the heart rate monitor sped up as I stared at the padded cuffs securing my hands and ankles to the bed.
Panic gripped me—
Oh my God, I'm in a mental hospital!
—before anger shoved it aside—
They actually put me in a frickin’ mental hospital!
I strained against the cuffs, grunting with effort, before falling back onto the bed with exhaustion. I took a moment to get my breath back and tried to call out. A dry croak escaped. I licked my cracked lips, but my tongue felt like a hairy rug. I needed a drink.
I strained to hear sounds of civilisation, but the closed door blocked me from the world. If there were people out there, nothing reached me.
I clenched my fists in frustration, the action pathetic, my muscles void of strength.
I slumped back on the bed in disappointment. So many times I had dreamed of the moment I’d wake up, with smiling faces around me, Adam holding out baby—
The baby! I looked at my stomach to find it flat with no sign on postnatal sagginess. How long had I been out? How old was the child now? Had it been a boy or girl? What had Adam named it? Was it alive?
The last thought filled me with renewed strength, and I shouted again, only to growl when I managed little more than a hoarse squeak. Where was my baby?
Lifting my shoulders off the bed, I pulled against the restraints and yelled. Blades tore at my throat, but I ignored them, focusing on one thought—my child!
My voice gave out and the door remained closed. I glared at my restraints, memories of my time in the Wastelands worming into my mind. I could move stuff. Of course you can’t. That wasn’t real!
But what if it had been? I decided to keep it simple to start with and looked around the room for something the practise on. The chair would be good to start with. It would be more difficult to damage than hospital machines.
I willed the chair to move but nothing happened. I growled with frustration and tried again. My breath unsteady, I glared at the chair. I needed to get control of it so I could find my child. I needed it to move.
I tried to recreate what I had learnt in the Wastelands, but again, nothing happened. The chair seemed to silently mock me as I slumped back on the bed, gasping. I needed to calm down, to figure a way out of the restraints.
I practised for several minutes. Time was easier to judge when the loud blip of a machine measured each heartbeat. Sweat broke out of my brow as I bucked on the bed, thrashing my body left and right while I cursed in a harsh croak. Nothing happened and I screamed in frustration until my already frail voice cracked and blades tore through my throat.
I needed to get out now. I needed to find my baby.
I forced my breathing to slow. There had to be a way out, something I was missing because of my panic.
I pulled against the restraints, this time testing the strong and weak points of the metal safety bars on each side of the bed, the straps secured to them.
The right bar seemed loose, the joints worn after years of use. I inched my body closer to it, as close to it as the restraints on my left limbs allowed. After taking a slow, deep breath, I pulled my right arm and leg as far from the rail as possible before slamming them back, hitting the rail with all the speed my restricted limbs allowed.
The bars rattled but remained fixed. I screamed with everything I had.
The door crashed open and a woman in a grey uniform paused in the doorway. I blinked against the sharp light that spilt in behind her. She stepped into the room as she coiled her long hair into a loose bun and secured it with a band on her wrist. A small wide smile touched her aged lips. ‘Welcome back.’
I wanted to shuffle away from her, the straps making me more vulnerable than I’d been in some time.
She bent over me, fiddling with the tubes. ‘I’m Doctor Miles. How are you feeling?’ I glanced at the straps and back to her. Her uniform looked military. When I studied her further, I spied the pips on her shoulder. Not just a doctor, but an officer.
I choked as my throat swelled with panic, and I tried to shuffle away, but still couldn’t move. Everything that had happened, everything they had said, had been a lie to get me back into one of their bases. My safety had been assured when I agreed to their press conference, but they had lied. I was a prisoner again.
The woman leant towards me, her mouth moving as if she spoke, yet her words unable to penetrate my panic. She touched my arm and I yelled, unable to keep my fear under control.
For god’s sake, stop being a frickin’ pansy. I need to find my baby. I need to escape somehow. What if the government has stolen my child?
The last thought hit me like a tonne of bricks. I might have succumbed to my fear if the nurse hadn’t pulled at the Velcro on my wrist, freeing my right hand.
My reaction was immediate, without a moment’s hesitation, I whipped my hand towards her. Before the doctor had chance to cry out, I twisted my hand through her thick hair and smashed her face off the bars.
She slumped with a groan, blood pouring from her nose, still conscious but dazed. Before she could regain her senses, I slammed her head against the safety rails and dropped her to the floor. I ripped the remaining restraints off and pulled the blood pressure cuff from my arm. Next came the small pulse oximeter from my finger and the needles in my arms, followed by the feeding tube.
I tried to stand and was quickly tangled in the drip still attached to my hand. I tore it free and, ignoring the bead of blood that welled from the hole, tried to stand again.
It suddenly hit me, all the understanding I had gleaned in the Wastelands, all the memories I had spent time living in. I retched and rolled over, sure I would vomit on myself. After a moment, the spams calmed down. I probably had nothing to bring up.
I took several deep breaths, trying to calm the chaos in my mind, determined to block the feel of Cleas as much as I could. I slipped off the bed and collapsed against the bed as my legs gave out. I gripped the bed rails, managing to remain stood even though my legs quivered with the limited energy of a freshly born fowl.
I stared down at the unconscious doctor, wishing I had demanded answers before knocking her out. I silently screamed at her, Where the hell is my baby? I didn’t have time to wait for her to regain consciousness. I didn’t even know where I was or the number of enemies against me, though, I was pretty sure I wasn’t in Downing Street anymore. The dingy roo
m was out of place for the luxury they had there. The question was, where the hell was I?
I tested weight on my legs until sure I could support myself, thoughts of my child giving me strength. Firstly, I needed to figure out where I was.
Walking was like trying to complete a marathon. My head thumped and my vision blurred. It took all the strength I had not to pass out. Using the bed, I stumbled to the stand with the half-empty bag of fluid hanging from it.
I took a moment to catch my breath before I could reach high enough to unhook the bag. I dropped it to the floor and leaned against the bed to gather my strength, wishing I had just pulled the tube from the bag.
Once sure I wouldn’t faint, I leaned on the pole for support. I shuffled from the room, making sure to keep the pole close. If it wandered too far from my body, the wheels would fly across the room, propelled by my leaning weight.
A grey hallway stretched out before me, the floor covered in a pale, sickly green lino. I dipped my head, shielding my eyes from the harsh strip lights on the ceiling. Doors lined the corridor, all of them marked with painted numbers. I kept expecting to hear someone shout out, sure that someone would notice the unconscious doctor. I tried to speed my pace up, still with no idea where to go.
I opened what doors I could, trying to find some water. The baby was my main concern, but my body had other ideas as it begged for a drink.
Someone shouted in alarm, back in the direction I had come from; they had noticed me missing and the injured woman I’d left behind. I slipped through the next door I could open, shutting it with slow measured movements. I leant against it, breathing heavily as I listened to the shouts of alarm.
One I regained some composure, I felt along the wall, searching for a light switch. Pounding footsteps hurried past the door. I continued to fumble against the wall, looking for the elusive switch, when all strength left me, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I slid to the floor, not sure whether I would pass out or vomit. My vision floated in and out, and my head pricked as if a cold breeze ran through my hair.
More steps pounded past as people shouting at each other. Their words escaped me as I fought to remain conscious. I focused on how cool the floor felt against my bare backside. The hospital gown gathered at the front, and I pulled it all to the side, getting as much cool air to my skin as possible.
I didn’t care if someone found me half naked on the floor, as long as they brought water and word of my child.
‘I don’t know how she got out?’ someone snapped as they hurried past the door I lay against.
I tried to stand, undecided whether I wanted to hide or get their attention, but only succeeded in rolling onto my side. The cold floor felt nice against my cheek and I took a moment to relish it, uncaring that my backside was up in the air for anyone to see.
I rested for a moment, waiting for my head to clear. Once sure I wouldn’t faint, I struggled to my feet. The act drained me, and I leant against the wall, trying to focus my swimming vision.
As my mind cleared, fresh footsteps ran down the corridor. Someone shouted that I needed to be found, and quickly, and the footsteps passed. Where did they think I’d gone to hide?
Each breath felt like blades sliced through my throat. I needed a drink; it was fast becoming the only thing I could think about. I reached along the wall, making sure to take my time in case I induced another bout of dizziness. I had almost given up looking when my fingers brushed against the light switch.
I closed my eyes before turning it on and spent an agonising length of time adjusting to the harsh strip light on the ceiling. Once my vision cleared, I studied the room. Two rows of lockers towered before me, each one marked with a white strip of words, likely names. I peered to the back almost smiled. A row of sinks gleamed in the bright light. It felt like Christmas.
I stumbled over, using the lockers for support and fell into the sinks. Instinct took over, and I bent over, scooping greedy handfuls of water into my mouth. My thirst sated, I sunk to the floor, my stomach aching.
I groaned as my stomach lurched. Water trickled from my throat and through my dry lips. Tears blurred my vision as I heaved my stomach empty of its meagre contents.
I leaned back against the sinks sucking in lungsful of air. I needed to use my brain if I wanted to escape. I knew better than to guzzle so much down in one go. It had been so long since I’d ingested anything, my stomach wasn’t used to it.
A piercing clang made me jump. The alarm blared and my adrenalin surged. Now the whole base would be searching for me. Maybe they would carry weapons I could utilise.
Once I managed to get my bearings again, I supped some water, forcing myself to stop after a few mouthfuls. I waited until sure I could keep the fluid down before drinking more.
I sank to the floor, satisfied for the moment. Now that burning thirst didn’t consume me, one thought echoed through my mind: my child. It didn’t matter how weak I felt, I would dissect any person that had dared harm my baby. The alarm continued to shake the foundations, loud enough to raise the dead in the next country over. My skull ached in response and my eyes watered. It felt like a mallet repeatedly bashed my head. Putting my hands over my ears did nothing. I needed to focus and get moving.
I studied the room again, now able to take in more detail. Its reasonable size allowed for two rows of back to back lockers, each row two cabinets high. I passed by the wide benches separating the rows, checking each locker in the hope someone had been careless and left theirs open. Halfway down the right row, I found a bottom one unlocked. It had a wallet and a binder, but no clothes.
I continued my search, finding three more open lockers, each as disappointing as the first. I still had two rows to check, but my hope dwindled. I turned the corner, my strength ebbing, when I saw what I wanted. A thin bench edged the far wall with hooks above. I stumbled to the corner, praying my vision didn’t deceive me.
Some tracksuit bottoms and a tee-shirt hung from the hook. I pulled them down. Please God, don’t let them be too small.
I held the light grey bottoms out with a sigh of relief. They were big, likely belonging to a man or one hell of a tall woman. They smelt of stale sweat, but they were clothes, and I yanked them over my legs. I dragged the top down, wincing at the strong, musky scent. After a moment of studying it, I dropped it with mild relief. The armholes on the vest were far too large. The hospital gown would be better.
I sipped some more water, managing a few mouthfuls before my stomach ached. I needed to find another way out. I once again heard shouts and doors slamming as soldiers checked the rooms. First, I needed to find Adam. He would know about our child.
I followed the sinks around a corner. Several individual showers edged the far wall, each separated by another section of wall. White curtains hung from each of them, all pulled to the side. Wooden benches lined the two side walls, but apart from that, the room was empty. I stepped in further. There had to be another door somewhere.
I was about to give up when I spotted what first looked like an alcove but was a small corridor leading to another door, in the opposite direction to the raised voices.
An empty corridor lay beyond. I stood in the grey hallway, not sure what to do next. From what I had seen, I was no longer in Downing Street. The doctor’s uniform had a crisp military look to it, and she had been human, so I could assume I was still with the government. But where?
I closed my eyes, trying to get a sense of the four Siis I was bonded to. I shied away from the sense of Cleas. I had just escaped the clutches of his mind and was in no rush to delve back in. I also avoided Gabriel, in no mood for his judgement and anger. It wasn’t like he would help me anyway.
I focused on Adam and his warm feeling soon reached me, strong and present. He was close.
I turned right, following the invisible thread that existed between us until I reached the end of the corridor. I paused to listen. The alarm fell silent and footsteps faded into the background. I turned right into another corridor, this one
also lined with doors. I hurried past them, sure that one of them would open and I would be caught. My limbs trembled, making it impossible to fight, and I didn’t have a weapon.
For once, luck tagged my heels, and I reached the end without encountering anyone. Muffled, angry voices came from the left, the direction I needed to go. I limped along, using the wall for support. I should have kept hold of the drip stand for a crutch, but, being an idiot, I’d left it in the locker room. I followed Adam’s thread and the voices to a closed door.
I paused with my fingers resting on the handle, gathering my strength before I entered.
I couldn’t delay any longer when, amongst all the other snapped words, Eris said, ‘I warn you, witch, try my patience any longer and you will pay with your life.’
I opened the door into a larger room filled with people. A deep mahogany, oval table, big enough to seat over twenty people, dominated the middle of the room. On it were jugs of water and several glasses set around the table and three platters of untouched sandwiches as if they had prepared for a lengthy discussion. By the tense air and sullen expressions of everyone present, it hadn’t gone to plan.
On the other side of the table, Maria and Eris faced each other, Maria with her fists clenched so hard her knuckles were white. Adam stood with his back to Eris, glaring at a suited man who told him he had no right to make demands. Several other men and women were scattered around the room, releasing snide remarks and subtle threats about the Siis being in their domain. Those ones obviously hadn’t seen the footage of Eris tearing through the last military base. Soldiers stood at attention against the wall, evenly spaced, every single one of them armed and pointing their guns at Maria and Eris. If they shot, Eris had a chance of surviving, but Maria wouldn’t.
So absorbed in their arguments, nobody noticed that I’d entered the room. I stepped in further, daring to let go of the wall. My legs wobbled and I locked my knees. I wouldn’t collapse. Exhaustion still dragged on my body and mind, but I needed to find my child first.
Noble Lies Page 24
