by N. M. Brown
When the first officers ran down the stairs, paramedics close behind, McQueen was surprised to find shallow tears rimming his eyes, his arms aching, and his lungs were burning. But she was still alive and as they carted her into the ambulance, they told him he was probably the only reason she’d survived. A kiss of life, they had told him. McQueen though he would wait and see if she awoke before he patted himself on the back. She might not be so thankful. He’d let Sydney get away and he knew Echo wasn’t the forgiving type.
XXXIV
Echo felt the weight of the world smother her in her sleep, the darkness pealing her skin from flesh, muscle from bone until the frigid darkness bit down hard, right over her heart. She felt scorching heat and then a wide expanse of cold. She couldn’t feel her limbs or open her eyes or smell or taste anything. Panic gripped her heart, but that’s when she felt it. The hard, constant thud that boomed in her chest.
Thu-thump, … … Thu-thump… … Thu-thump… …
She sensed her chest, the curving ribs and length of her spine as it reached from her head to her hips. Her shoulders were pressing into the tough material beneath her, arms lying limp at her sides. Her head was propped on pillows and an itchyblanket thrown over her body caused the unquenchable need to squirm. Eyes’ fluttering open, harsh light blinded her, but was quickly blocked by a shape. A round blob with a rectangular base… A person. It was a person leaning over her.
“Rise a shine sleepy head.” The voice above her sang. Cheery and pleasant. Too pleasant. Too cheery. Too much pain and her body throbbed. Shifting her head, she heard it, that unmistakable sound of life, counting down with every beep of the machine. She was in hospital.
Echo groaned, feeling the deep vibrations in her chest. It felt good, reminding her she was alive, but it also tore at her dry throat, reminding her not to do it again.
Once they saw she was awake, she was suddenly surrounded by people. She only recognized Nurse Willow, who had made it her mission to smile at her every time their eyes met despite the fact Echo knew the nurse hated her. Doctors prattled on with a clip boards in hand; checking vitals, liquids and fluids, all the while poking and prodding her. Nurses freshened her up with a new pillow, new sheets as well as a jug of water with a cup and straw. Echo was getting dizzy just watching them.
“What happened?” She asked her voice cracked and dry.
“You were shot.” Nurse Willow answered, fluffing her pillow for a second time. “You’ve been in a coma for a week and a bit. It was touch and go for a while but you’re awake now.” She smiled and passed the dirty sheet to another nurse before continuing. “The killer that had been murdering all those poor people had taken you and McQueen, the Detective, hostage in the House basement.” Echo felt the need to snap at the little woman, that she knew perfectly well that McQueen was a Detective, but her eyes were starting to droop. “The killer, Pari Badal, was shot by your bar tender, who then tried to kill you. McQueen had to release the women, so he could save your life.” She babbled on. “It was all rather heroic really, I was just telling Nancy the other day, how…”
Echo tuned her out after that. Her mind rolled over the event as she remembered them. Sydney shot her. The crazy bitch! But then something else ticked in Echo’s mind about Sydney… what she had said…something important… something... but her mind wandered, her eyes closed, and Echo soon drifted off into oblivion.
✽ ✽ ✽
When she woke again, she was surprised to be in a different room one with a large window on one side the sky obscured by creepy trees and buzzing fireflies, but in the dark, it looked like the stars. Echo blinked a few times before the room came into focus and discovered that she wasn’t alone. She had a visitor.
“You’re awake.” Turning over, Echo looked at McQueen. He was washed, clean shaven, with his shirt pressed and suit pristine. He still had bags under his eyes and hollowness in his cheeks, but he otherwise looked good. She guessed the few weeks since she was shot had done him well. She dared not think how many sponge baths she’d had to endure while unconscious.
“Stardom suits you.” She coughed out, pushing herself upright, the twinge of pain rippling across her stomach but she ignored it. “How is the world of the serial killer catcher? I heard she was shot and killed by the ‘crazy bartender’… who got away?” Echo looked at him with a hardened gaze.
He looked annoyed but didn’t refuse to answer. “I’d like to remind you, I saved your life.” He sniffed in distain. “And it’s not like there’s no one looking out for Sydney Summers. We will catch her.”
“Not if I catch her first.” Was Echo’s reply and she didn’t bother trying to hide what she’d said or the malice in her voice. McQueen knew very well what Echo would plan on doing, there was no point hiding it.
McQueen grew quiet then, contemplating her; regarding her. The silence thickened though McQueen broke it first, shifting uncomfortably in his plastic seat. Echo had the sudden insight that he’d probably hoped she’d awakened when he wasn’t around. “You’re looking better.”
Echo just rolled her eyes. “Yes, I'm a fresh peach.” Giving him a sideways glare, Echo breathed heavily through her nose. He didn’t look like he was about to leave any time soon. Despite having just awoken, Echo could feel the threads of sleep clawing at her. This was all going to have to be quick. “Why did you let her go?” she asked, keeping her voice even.
McQueen snorted. “You mean why did I save you?” Echo reluctantly nodded. “She made a good point, catch the killer, save you, and win the day. And as I’ve said, we will catch her”
“Excuse me if I don’t believe you. Three accounts of attempted murder are on her rap sheet? You could barely catch a serial killer without me.”
McQueen gave Echo a pitiful look and it made her blood sizzle. She would happily wipe that expression from his face… just as soon as she could get out of the bed. “We’ll catch her Echo. She won’t get near you again.” Of course, the soft-hearted Detective thought she was scared. Fucking brilliant. Bang goes her hard-ass reputation.
“Whatever.” Echo sighed, closing her eyes. But as she tried to slowly relax, she found she couldn’t due to two eyes that bored into the side of her head. “What? What do you want Queenie?” Echo asked.
“Me? I don’t want anything. Do you want to talk about anything though?” There was hesitation in his voice, and Echo could picture McQueen going over and over in his mind; finding just the right words to bring up the question. And wasn’t it just a loaded question? Did Echo remember the ground-breaking revelation? Nope.
“No. Nothing to talk about.” Denial probably wasn’t doing her any favours in the ‘I'm-not-crazy’ department, but Echo wasn’t going to deal with McQueen's existential crisis tonight. Whether McQueen was convinced or not, only time would tell. But before he could question her some more, the door opened.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Nurse Willow smiled down at her, coming up behind McQueen. She looked different in plain, normal clothes. Now she looked like a woman. Her hair hung in large blonde curls that rested on her shoulders, while she wore a loose white top, that were tucked into high waisted jeans. They made her look slightly taller, but Echo was pleased to see in made her boobs look none-existent. Bending down, the perky nurse gave McQueen a quick kiss on the cheek. Echo schooled her face and hid her surprise.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” She spoke to McQueen, who smiled at her, kissing her on the cheek back. The woman smiled at Echo again, like the cat that got the cream, before walking out, not even seeing if Echo wanted a fresh pillow or a cup of water. Some hospitality.
Watching the woman walk back out, Echo rested her eyes on him again. “Well, you moved in on that fast.”
“My relationships have nothing to do with you.” McQueen grunted. “But I had to wrap up the case which meant checking on you from time to time. It meant I was here a lot and I asked her for a coffee date.”
“Ah. And what will Mrs. McQueen think to all that?” Echo asked not forget
ting that little detail that had almost got her killed.
“Again, that has nothing to do with you.” McQueen sighed and stood. “I just wanted to see you awake and apologies. Pari Badal picked me because of my past and you got dragged in as well. The case is now closed and with any luck we will not cross paths again”
“Well you know what they say about luck Queenie: You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.” Echo laughed but stopped and winced in pain as it curled through her stomach and back.
“I guess you’re not wrong.” McQueen looked down at her a let out a small smile. So far, he’d only kept a straight placid face. Echo was surprised he didn’t argue, but it was a nice feeling when he agreed with her. “I also wanted to say that I’ll be searching for Sydney when I can. I can’t imagine she’d be stupid enough to return to the House but just in case, you should be weary.” McQueen continued saying.
“Not going to give me your number to call day or night.” Echo questioned, but she didn’t ask with any heat in her voice. She almost felt… hurt that the good Christian man he was hadn’t already offered.
“No.” Clearing his throat, “I don’t think-…” He paused and seemed to struggle with the next part. Echo felt the other shoe drop beneath her.
“Spit it out McQueen.” He had been stood, but he now moved to stand closer to the end of the bed, like she might attack him. Echo held her breath.
“Whatever myths or fairy-tale you believe, or Ms. Summers believed, I think she was right about one thing.” Echo's interested took a nose dive. Hostility burned in her gut and she hoped McQueen chose his words carefully. “You do cling to the Hellions with a fierce grip and even though you’ve been cleared, the charges you faced were serious. You were going to go to prison for them. For doing a job they pushed you into.”
“They’re my family.” Echo spat, hands gripping the bed. “Unless you didn’t notice, they are all I have. And as you’ve pointed out several times, I do fit in rather well.”
“Yes. I noticed.” McQueen huffed out a sigh. “Sydney called you the Queen of Stockholm Syndrome. It’s a harsh description but… she’s not wrong. I don’t know if Sydney’s delusions are true or if you believe them, or maybe they believe it themselves. But the truth is that House is bad for you. You don’t see it, you don’t want to see it, but you need to leave. You’re just not normal when you’re there.” McQueen sighed, like he’d been released from a great weight.
Echo froze, her temper flaring and she had to bite her tongue to stop the tears from falling. “I remember a time when you told me not to be normal. You requested I be myself. My cold nature helped you. But now you take it back?” Echo’s voice was thick and full of fury.
“Echo…?”
“No, no, no. It’s Ms. Headly to you Detective. You used me to get what you needed when we were here last time, I’d hate for our relationship to change.” McQueen didn’t answer. “Thank you for checking up on me Detective. You can leave now. You and I should really hope we don’t cross paths again. I would hate for my delusions to ruin your normal life.” She snapped. McQueen just shuffled his feet before heading to the door.
“I am sorry Echo.” McQueen spoke with his back to her. “I’ll pray for you.” Echo didn’t thank him.
Instead Echo smiled. It was deadly and vicious and as she spoke she hoped he hear every truth to her words. She hoped he wouldn’t sleep at night, turning her words over and over, doubting himself again and again. She wanted the nugget of fear and uncertainty clinging to his chest in his every waking moment.
“Pray for me Queenie. Pray all night. But don’t forget that the dark is where you can fall into the Devils clutch and you have tripped one too many times. You might not accept that monsters live under your bed, but they’ve accepted you and they like how you taste.”
Echo saw McQueen roll his shoulders in discomfort, but he didn’t look back; didn’t speak. He just walked out and she was left alone, chuckling in a darkened room as the bugs winked out beyond her window pane.
The dawn might have been breaking, but shadows always linger.
Epilogue
“Oh, honey look, she’s smiling.”
“You think?” The dad asked leaning over his wife as they gazed down at their new bundle of joy.
“Of course, she’s smiling. Look, I think she has your dimples.” The wife beamed. She held the bundle in her arms like it was the most precious thing on this earth. To her, it probably was. “I can’t believe she’s not cried yet. Mary-Ann said Justin cried and cried and cried.” The couple chuckled together.
“It’s because she has your bravery and your can-do attitude.” The father stroked his wife’s hair. He looked so proud of her.
“It’s time for the little one to go to the nursery.” You say, taking the few extra steps you need to get to the edge of the bed. You hold out your arms to take the little one.
“Now? So soon?” The mother gasps. She tightens her hold on the precious bundle, but you can already see the need for sleep creeping into her eyes. She looks up at the husband suddenly nervous. “But we haven’t named her. We can’t not name her.”
The husband looks down on his wife, caressing her lovingly down the side of her face, lulling her to relax. “It’s fine sweetheart. We have some names picked out. You wanted a little more time, but someone wasn’t having any of that.” The father gave a soft smile at the little pink bundle. “We could choose now?”
You shuffle on your feet and resist wiping your palms on your scrubs. “You could think about it while she’s in the nursery. Then when she comes back, you’ll have one all picked out and ready.” Your smile tightens. You take one more step closer.
The mother looks down again. She’s exhausted and will sleep for a long time. The father will join while he can before they embark on this new journey they have been given. That was their plan, anyway. “That could work.” The wife mumbles. Bending down, she rubbed her nose on her new born daughter’s head and releases her grip ever-so-slightly. “You are loved. You are cherished. You are ours.” She chants in a breath while her husband rubs soothing circles into her back.
You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest as the soft, warm pink blanket is placed in your arms. You feel the new born squirm just for a moment before getting comfortable. She doesn’t make a peep. “All right now,” You smile, just as you have been doing all along. Just as you have practiced so many times before, ready for this moment. “Say, ‘Bye, bye mummy. Bye, bye daddy.’” You slowly place the child in the plastic crib ready to be wheeled down to the nursery. You watch the faces of the two new, proud parents as you push the child out of the room. They look so relaxed, so happy. You pass the nurses’ station with a ‘hay’ and a quick pit-stop, so all the nurses can coo over the bab
You mustn’t rush. You mustn’t make it obvious.
“Better get this one downstairs.” You press and move off. The soft hiss of the crib’s wheels is the only sound in the dark hospital hallways. It’s the middle of the night. No one should be around. You reach the elevator and step inside. The cold metal walls feel like they are closing in on you, but you breath. Everything was fine. Everything is going to plan. You watch your reflection in the elevator mirror because you know in your gut you can’t look down. You can’t focus on what you’re doing.
You reach the right floor and step off. It’s quiet. Peaceful. It’s empty of all staff because it’s not the nursery. You’re a floor below. Now is when you must perform, just in case. You look left, then right and ‘oh’, suddenly realize you’re on the wrong floor. You turn to catch the elevator but, ‘dang’, you missed it. You’ve worked in this hospital all your life, so you know it’s in’s and out’s. You know that it would be quicker to walk up a flight of stairs then wait for the elevator, so you turn and walk towards the stairwell. The old, cold stairwell that is hardly used and has no security cameras.
Picking the pink bundle up from the cradle, you look over her dark, pitch black hair that�
�s already curling out of the crown on her head. She was sound asleep but as you shift her in your arms she stirs and looks up at you with the most beautiful bright green eyes. They are a tropical sea green with rings of ocean storm clouds around the edge. They steal your breath away and capture your heart.
You find yourself stalled at the top of the stairs. One flight up and you would be on the nursery floor. You would be among peers, families and friends. You could drop the bundle off with a smile and some laughter. Leave her with people who would love and look after her. She’d grow up to be a bratty toddler, too an anxious teen, before onwards to an adult, full of life and prosperity… She will find love and life wherever she goes. She might do something amazing that will change the world as we know it. She might just cruise through life; happy on the middle ground. She’ll never miss her parents or miss a birthday or miss a homework assignment.
But as you look down the dark stairwell to the lower floors, your mind whispers dark, horrid things. Where she’s going, she won’t get a chance to miss those things anyway. So, you find yourself turning and begin your decent into the lowest levels of the hospital; the precious cargo sound asleep.