‘No,’ she answered after a moment, ‘we’ve not met before.’
‘Are you sure?’ he searched his memory, ‘you seem… familiar.’
‘It’s not surprising that it seems that way,’ she shook her head. ‘I was the doctor who treated you when you were brought into the ER. You were lapsing in and out of consciousness at that point, but it is possible that you subconsciously retained the memory of my face.’
‘I guess,’ he replied uncertainly.
She leaned over and shone a small light into his eyes, checking his pupil reflexes.
‘When we found you, you didn’t have a wallet or any ID on you. You’ve been John Doe for the past week,’ she clicked the tiny flashlight off and met his intense gaze. ‘Do you remember anything?’
He shook his head.
‘How about your name?’
‘Sam,’ he murmured, the vague memory of his dream whispering at the edges of his mind, ‘I think my name is Sam.’
‘Last name?’
He simply shook his head.
‘Well okay then Sam,’ she nodded.
‘What happened to me?
‘We’re not entirely sure,’ she replied, ‘the police found you unconscious in the middle of the road. Witnesses say you stumbled out into traffic and just collapsed. There were no drugs or alcohol in your system and no head injuries, nothing that would account for your loss of consciousness or the coma you’ve been in for the last few days. I have to say Sam, you’re a bit of a medical mystery.’
‘I just collapsed?’ he queried.
‘Yes, right in front of oncoming traffic. Frankly you’re lucky you weren’t killed.’
‘Was anyone else hurt?’ he frowned, ‘I mean, I didn’t cause an accident, did I?’
Her head tilted as she studied him, almost as if she were confused at his obvious concern.
‘No Sam,’ she replied, ‘the driver managed to stop in time and due to the late hour, traffic was light.’
‘Okay,’ he breathed in relief as the knot in his stomach began to uncoil, ‘okay then.’
‘What’s the last thing you remember?’
Sam tried to cast his mind back but found nothing. Fragments of his dream swirled through his mind but nothing tangible for him to hold on to.’
‘I’m not sure,’ he shook his head.
‘It’s okay, I’m sure the answers will come to you in time.’
‘What’s wrong with me?’ he frowned again, ‘why can’t I remember?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered honestly, ‘your CT and MRI were both inconclusive. We can’t find a cause for the coma or the apparent amnesia.’
‘I see,’ he replied absently.
Once again, the feeling of urgency slammed into his gut, fresh and raw, as he pulled himself upright pulling at the blankets and upsetting the monitors once again.
‘I have to get out of here.’
‘And where are you going to go Sam?’ her voice was firm. ‘You don’t remember who you are or where you come from. You have no money, nowhere to go and in all the time you’ve been here no one has come forward to claim you.’
He stared up at her and through his stormy eyes she could feel his restlessness churning beneath the surface, like a caged animal.
He wanted to touch her. His fingers twitched unconsciously as she leaned closer. There was something about her, half-forgotten but so familiar. It called to him, she called to him. The fragrance of her slammed into him, a solid fist to the gut. The deep earthy scent he had experienced earlier coiled around him like a serpent, winding its way through him until it had him by the throat. His stomach tensed as he watched her intently. Who the hell was she?
‘Stay…’ the word hovered on her lips, but she didn’t speak it aloud. It seemed far too intimate, too personal a request. Instead she straightened her back and took an involuntary step back, maintaining a friendly yet professional distance.
‘Why don’t you rest, and we’ll see if we can figure out what happened to you, okay?’
Sam studied her for a minute before finally nodding and settling back onto the bed.
‘Thank you,’ he spoke softly as she turned to leave, making her stop and turn back toward him, ‘for taking care of me,’ he added.
‘You’re welcome,’ she murmured, her expression unreadable. ‘Get some rest.’
He watched the door long after she left, until his heavy eyes drifted closed and once again he was pulled into a disjointed and restless dream.
‘Who is she?’ Olivia asked curiously.
‘Who?’ Sam asked.
‘The girl?’
‘The one you’re being punished for,’ she smiled knowingly.
‘How do you know it’s because of a girl?’ he frowned.
‘Honey,’ she laughed in amusement, ‘it’s always because of a girl.’
‘I don’t think I like you anymore,’ Sam scowled.
‘Of course you do,’ she patted his hand fondly and took another swig of her whiskey, ‘now why did your father trap you down here?’
Sam hesitated for a moment, ‘he wanted me to betray someone I cared about.’
‘Who was she?’
‘So sure it’s a she, aren’t you?’
She simply raised her brows and waited.
‘Fine,’ he answered after a moment, ‘she was…is a friend, sort of.’
‘How can someone be sort of a friend? If you care about her enough to be exiled because of her, either she’s important to you or not.’
‘She is,’ his voice was soft and tinged with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, sadness perhaps? Or maybe remorse. ‘You remind me of her actually,’ he looked up at Olivia. ‘She is beautiful and clever, but she can be incredibly stubborn, and she’s sweet and kind. She has a deep love of lore and history.’
‘She sounds like my long-lost twin, except for the sweet and kind part,’ Olivia chuckled lightly, ‘so what’s the problem? She sounds pretty perfect.’
‘She’s the daughter of a traitor.’
Olivia stared darkly at Sam.
‘And you hold that against her?’
‘No,’ he realized she’d gotten the wrong idea, ‘I would never hold what her mother did against her. It was not her fault, she had nothing to do with it and yet she is paying the price for it. Even her own people,’ he shook his head in disgust, ‘you should see how they treat her, it’s like they look at her and see her mother. They can’t see who she truly is. Even my people treat her with distrust and suspicion.’
‘I see, so it’s like a forbidden love kind of thing?’
‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘it’s not like that.’
‘Isn’t it?’
He shook his head in denial, ‘it’s impossible, especially after what I’ve done.’
‘What did you do?’
He turned away, almost as if it were easier to confess if he wasn’t looking directly at her.
‘I betrayed her,’ he whispered painfully, ‘she’s never going to forgive me.’
‘I think she will,’ Olivia told him gently, ‘if she’s the person you think she is. She may be hurt but if she knows you love her, she’ll forgive you.’
He looked up at her and stared.
‘She doesn’t know how you feel about her, does she?’
He shook his head slowly.
‘Sam,’ she breathed, shaking her head, ‘just tell me one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Tell me her name.’
He blinked at her thoughtfully for a moment before releasing a resigned sigh.
‘Scarlett,’ he breathed painfully, ‘her name is Scarlett…’
When Sam awoke once again he felt less groggy. The room was dim, day had given way to night and as he raised his hand to run it through his hair, an old unconscious habit, he suddenly realized the tubes, wires and monitors had been removed while he slept. Pulling himself up he gingerly swung his legs over
the side of the bed as his gaze was drawn to the open window. The curtains no longer billowed on a playful breeze but whipped and snapped spitefully as the wind picked up.
Placing his bare feet down on the cool floor he slowly stood. Despite the fact he had been in bed for days, surprisingly, the strength flowed easily back into his limbs. He moved slowly to the window and held the curtain back as he glanced up at the dark threatening sky. What had been a pleasant sunny day had now given way to the blackest night. The appearance of the moon split the sky like a great silver disc. The trees bowed in the wind and just for a moment he swore he heard a low whisper carried on the air. The uneasy feeling in his gut slammed into him with a vengeance.
Dr Angela Vincent stepped out of the elevator and waved absently to the security guard.
‘Night Doc,’ he lifted his hand, ‘hell of a storm heading our way.’
‘Looks like,’ she agreed as the doors opened, and she stepped out into the night. Making her way past the ambulance bay she tightened her grip on her bag and cursed herself for not grabbing a jacket.
The wind tore at her neat blouse and tidy skirt with sly spindly fingers. It skipped gleefully over her chilled skin and tugged at her dark red hair, pulling little curly tendrils loose. Stretching her aching neck, she yawned as she headed down the block. She hardly ever used the main parking garage as she disliked enclosed spaces. She liked to look up and see the sky above her at the end of a long shift.
She sighed as she looked up. Although the moon was out, there were no stars glittering in the sky tonight. Swirling grey clouds slashed across the sky and the wind rolled through the trees, scattering leaves in its violent wake.
Seeing her car, she pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked it with a quiet click and a flash of light. Dumping her purse on the back seat she froze, tiny icy fingers skittered down her spine and she felt a presence behind her. She turned sharply as litter, kicked up by the wind, flew across the dark street. A jagged fork of lightning slashed across the sky. Thick oily black clouds rolled in, looking distinctly unnatural, and carried on the wind was a strange pungent smell, like sulfur. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stood calm and immovable amidst the approaching chaos, her expression wary and slightly irritated even.
Suddenly everything froze as if someone had hit the pause button. Cans and scraps of paper hung motionless in the still air, the relentless shriek and howl of the wind was silent, and everything went dark, as if all the light in the world had suddenly gone out. Standing before her was a small child, a little girl of perhaps six years old, wearing a white dress tied around the waist with a dark sapphire blue ribbon. Like Angela she seemed completely unperturbed by the oncoming malevolence of the storm.
She stood unflinchingly, her clear blue gaze boring into Angela’s smoky grey eyes. The child’s pitch-black hair hung shiny and loose, framing her beautiful doll-like face. A hint of gold glinted at her chest and when Angela looked closer she could see an amulet of some sort hanging on a delicate gold chain around the child’s neck. It was deep blue and spherical and for just one second, she could have sworn she saw the heart of the jewel pulse with electricity.
The child never spoke, nor did Angela. There was no need, but some kind of silent recognition passed between them. After what seemed like an eternity the girl turned and pointed solemnly toward the hospital. Angela’s gaze left hers as she glanced up at the towering building and when she looked back the moment had passed; the girl was gone, and the sky once again churned like a giant maelstrom.
Sam glared out of the window. Something felt…off. The warning in his gut once again flared hot and urgent, this time accompanied by a surge of adrenalin. Something was definitely wrong. The temperature in the room plummeted abruptly and Sam found himself watching in a kind of sick fascination as his breath was expelled as a fine mist. His heartbeat kicked up another notch as he felt rather than saw a shadow pass the doorway behind him in an icy rush of air. Instinctively he melted into the corner of his room, holding his breath until he was sure it had passed.
Stepping warily from his room he checked the corridor. There was no one in sight; despite the late hour there should have been some staff on duty. Creeping silently on bare feet he froze as the lights suddenly flickered once, then twice and with an insect-like buzz the whole floor plunged into darkness. Only a few seconds passed before the emergency backup spluttered and kicked in with a distinct clunk, but it seemed like an eternity.
All his senses were in overdrive, his heart thudded in his chest and pounded in his ears as the adrenalin pulsed in his veins. He could sense something close by, almost scent it on the cold sterile air. Something was stalking him. He passed by the abandoned nurses’ station and for a moment he wished he had some kind of weapon.
He could feel it now, an icy prickle grazing his neck. Despite the cold, a bead of clammy sweat rolled down his spine and his jaw clenched purposefully. It was close, just behind him, creeping on silent feet, just beyond his peripheral vision. His body tensed, and he drew in a slow breath.
When the attack came there was no element of surprise, his instinct took over. As hands grabbed him from behind he merely twisted and spun with an innate warrior like agility. Grabbing his assailant roughly and swinging around he pinned the figure to the wall. But instead of the broad-shouldered assailant he’d imagined, he found himself pressed against the soft slim curves of a woman. His breath hitched, and his eyes widened slowly in surprise as he recognized the shock of red hair. He immediately released his grip, an apology already forming on his lips.
Angela felt the tension in his body change as he relaxed his hold on her and in one swift move she grabbed him. Rolling him across her body she spun him into a corner and with surprising strength pinned him against the wall. One hand moved to cover his mouth and with deliberate slowness she raised one slender finger and pressed it to her lips to indicate silence.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as her gaze flicked behind them, scanning the empty corridor. Sam’s heart kicked up another beat as she unconsciously pressed her lithe body to his, her leg wedged intimately between his as she held him in place. He could smell her now, that dark earthy scent, so familiar his throat constricted, and he fought the urge to lean in closer, so he could press his face against the line of her exposed throat and just breathe her in.
His eyes darkened as he gazed down at her. After a moment she removed her hand, seemingly satisfied he would not make a sound. Her face was so close he could feel her breath in small puffs against his lips.
She seemed preoccupied, almost as if she was listening to something far away. He found he could not tear his eyes away. She was fascinating, the way her body hummed against his. He could feel every muscle tensed and wary, and her eyes, for a second, he thought he had imagined it but her stormy grey eyes began to lighten until they were so pale they were almost colorless.
He felt the tension in her body shift and when he followed her gaze he found himself sucking in a deep silent breath and holding it. A dark shape the size of a man drifted sibilantly across the floor, weaving back and forth. It looked as if it were comprised entirely of black oily looking smoke. It was vaguely human shaped, with a torso, arms, a neck and a head but instead of legs it had something that resembled a serpent’s tail. It’s face, when it turned to them, was like nothing Sam had ever seen. It had no eyes, just empty sockets and instead of a mouth it had a gaping maw which hung open, exhaling with a wet rattling sound.
The strange creature stopped, hovering mid-air as it raised its head, almost as if it were sampling their scent upon the air. After a couple of seconds, it dropped back down to a few meters above the ground and moved closer, undulating serpent-like, every now and then lifting its hooded face.
Strange, Sam thought silently, although the unnatural creature had given him an initial jolt, he found he wasn’t afraid. In fact, he watched dispassionately, feeling nothing but calm and detached. Somewhere in the back of his mind a dry voice told h
im he should be afraid but somehow, he wasn’t.
Looking down at the woman in his arms he watched her face as her eyes tracked the creature. His arms tightened around her, protectively pulling her in closer as it drew near. She didn’t seem afraid, he thought with an unconscious frown, in fact, she didn’t even seem surprised and with that realization a sneaking suspicion began to gnaw at the back of his mind.
Angela watched warily as it approached. Raising her hand slowly, she didn’t speak, nor did she give any other outward sign of action, but suddenly the air immediately surrounding them seemed to warm and flood with the unique scent of her. The dark enticing flavor seemed to cocoon him and was so painfully familiar it made him ache, causing him to swallow past the dryness in his mouth.
The creature hissed angrily as it weaved from side to side, strangely agitated, almost as if it knew they were there but somehow couldn’t see them. Suddenly a loud bird-like shriek echoed down the corridor and the creature swirled violently around, blasting out of the room in an abrupt burst of speed and frigid air.
Sam let out a slow breath and relaxed, allowing Angela to step back. He opened his mouth to speak, but again she shook her head pointing out into the corridor. An ear-piercing scream shattered the stillness of the room followed rapidly by more shouts of alarm.
Pulling off her heels and grasping them firmly in her hand she grabbed Sam’s other hand and pulled him from the room, ignoring the jolt of electricity which shot through their joined hands and ran up her arm. They fled, Sam didn’t know why but he followed her blindly. Once again that dry voice at the back of his mind warned him she wasn’t what she appeared to be and yet when she touched him there was something comforting.
The lights flickered wildly now, the once still corridors were filled with chaos and the terrified screams of patients. Weaving their way through the confusion Sam and Angela crashed through a heavy fire door into a blessedly empty stairwell. As they paused for a moment it looked as if Angela was trying to decide whether or not to go up. She looked back speculatively at him for a second before tugging him downward and they descended the cool steps.
A Little Town Called Mercy Page 26
