Coma (Paranormal Romance)

by Lilly Mance

  “Aren't you in a good mood,” he said, matching my smile with his.

  “I am,” I confirmed, rocking back on my heels.

  “What changed since last night?” Zack crossed his arms, squinting, shifting weight on one leg.

  “I'm not telling!” I darted my head side-to-side, and started walking toward the bus station to Sophie.

  “Oh, come on. I tell you everything,” Zack quickened his pace to catch up with me.

  “You do?” I stopped in my tracks. If he did, I wasn't aware of it.

  “Yeah,” he stopped, as well, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops. “Why are you so surprised?” His lips curled, his eyes studying me carefully.

  “I'm not. I know so little about you; I didn't realize that was all there is to know,” as I said that, his eyes widened, and mouth dropped.

  “Ouch. That stung,” he took a step back, and grabbed his chest as if he were hit by an arrow straight through his heart. “You sure do know how to boost my self esteem.”

  “That part of you really doesn't need boosting,” Laughing, I threw an all knowing look, remembering his first attempt to talk to me. Zack grinned mischievously, as if he had reminiscence of his own that amused him. We continued walking. The sound of my arms swishing against my pants annoyed the crap out of me, so I crossed them in front.

  “So? What happened?” Zack's glance was the cutest to date. He seemed playful and relaxed.

  Quite theatrically, I repeated what had happened with the Fat-man. His eyes reacted to every word––one moment showing fear, another revealing worry, and lastly, relief when it was all over. His whole body stiffened up at parts where Fat-man pulled my arm causing me pain. I expected him to be happy that his compulsion had worked, but instead his mood changed into grim.

  “Zack, what's wrong? Your compulsion worked, didn't it?”

  “Bitter victory!” He picked up my sleeve to inspect my shoulder. “Does it hurt?” He looked at me without blinking, eyes wide open.

  “No,” I said, having trouble staying serious. Zack pressed his teeth hard, rage gushing from his nostrils, eyes flaring. “Zack?”

  “What?” His expression remained unchanged.

  “I'm okay. He didn't hurt me. He was helping me get through,” I took his hand in mine to calm him down, but this time he was too worked up to notice. He pulled it out, and hovered toward the curb, turning his back on me, and saying:

  “I'd rip his both arms out for hurting you!”

  “Quit that alpha male bull,” I snarled at him. He turned around looking like a wounded animal. “It's not appealing,” I added. He stared at me, bemused. “I appreciate your concern, but acting irrational will hardly get us anywhere.”

  “I'm not being irrational,” he hovered back to me, grabbing my forearms with both hands, and those beautiful eyes sparked. “I swear, if something—”

  “—stop it! Before you say something you might regret.” I cut him off, and bowed my head to avoid further eye contact. I wasn't ready to hear whatever was about to go down. Powerful emotions such as anger compel people to say things that they wish they could take back later when they cool down. Control freak such as myself knew that all too well.

  “Regret?!” He let out an annoyed snort, and released my arms. Couple of people came to the bus station, leaving us in silent agony. Ten more minutes, we stood next to one another, silently staring in separate directions, and then the bus rolled in.

  Upon entering the bus, I smiled to myself. It was absolutely full! No conversation till we get out. Zack seemed annoyed by it, grimacing and jerking up-and-down a zipper on his shirt pocket, but I saw another side to that event. I was grateful to whoever was the Grand Architect in this realm for making it impossible for Zack to say what he wanted. If he cared for me as much as I cared for him, I wanted to hear it when he was normal, not boiling with rage. Besides, I had to be sure it was care, not possessiveness of an alpha male.

  I sat down next to an older lady, and Zack had to sit next to a guy with headphones, and a hood. The aisle separating us felt as if it were an abyss separating our worlds. From the moment we sat down, Zack fixed his gaze on me, and watched like he did at the beginning. Calm, steady, expressionless statue, with God given beauty. It made me nervous. I fixed my gaze on a bald man's head a few seats down, entertaining myself with tracing the last remains of his hair combed across his scalp. I could feel Zack's piercing eyes on me, watching without blinking.

  Uncomfortable in my seat, I crossed my legs, and placed my hands in my lap, palms down, moving my gaze from bald man's head to my hands. My thick hair dropped, shielding my face from Zack. I put my palms one over the other on my upper thigh. Nothing felt right, so I shifted in my seat again, and flipped my palms up, bringing my hands closer to my belly. With my gaze, I traced the life line on my palm from the index finger, around the thumb, down to the point where it oddly split in two. Zack's heavy sigh jerked me. I uncrossed my legs, then looked at him.

  His eyes latched onto mine. My heart skipped a few beats, and I chewed on my lower lip from the inside, defiantly holding my gaze. His gaze was soft, and locked onto mine as if an invisible tractor beam connected us. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. He didn't blink, and I wasn't even sure he was breathing. There was so much going on in that calm gaze of his, as if he were transmitting with it all that he wanted to say to me, but couldn't. I wished I knew what, but I lacked decoding software to decipher it. His lips parted, and his gaze shifted to my brows, then traced the outline of my face, crossed over to my nose, and stopped on my lips. My breathing increased, and I bit my lower lip. He returned his gaze back to my eyes, and swallowed hard. His lips parted. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, but my eyes were glued to his, and I couldn't detach. He stripped me of my self-control completely.

  The guy next to him readjusted in his seat, resting his back against the window, facing me with a grin. I flinched, and returned my gaze back to hands in my lap. My cheeks were burning, and I heard Zack's silent chuckle. The rest of the ride I didn't dare to look up. The last thing I needed was the wrong guy thinking I was interested in him.

  ~*~

  Although it was hot outside, the air in front of psych ward’s main entrance was chilly. It was on the north side of a monumental building, shielded from the sun all year round, making it at least ten degrees colder than everywhere else. Grotesque gargoyles were covered in green from the mosque, with dark gray patches where the water ran out. I shook at the thought of spending life in there.

  “Are you cold?” Zack asked, wrongly interpreting my shiver.

  “No, I'm fine,” I replied with a faint smile.

  He let out a long sigh, and cracked his knuckles. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  “Good luck,” I breathed. Zack's face lost all of his usual smugness. He seemed worried, and that made me even more concerned about the outcome.

  “Lyra,” hearing him say my name did funny things to me, “Please, don't take this the wrong way.” He shuffled his feet, keeping gaze bowed.

  “Take what?”

  “I don't want you to come inside,” he said, and I didn't respond, unsure what he thought I might take wrongly. “I don't want you near, or tied to this in any way.”

  I chuckled, “I wasn't planning on coming in.”

  Zack remained serious, “Wait for me at the bus station.” His stare demanded my nod, so I did. “Okay,” he said, and turned around, but instead of leaving, he hesitated for a moment. He drew in one large breath that raised his chest completely, held that breath as long as he could, and then slowly let it out.

  I watched his silhouette enter the building, then went back toward the bus station. As soon as I came around the corner, I soaked up some sun to chase away the chill that protruded all the way into my bones. I guess that's how reptiles must feel after a long winter.

  The street sign was all that comprised a bus station, so I sat on one of the larger stones scattered nearby. I was glad that it was midday, and not night, but
five minutes later, my head started burning from the sun's intensity, and I had to find some shade. There were no houses for as long as I could see, and going back to the north side of the psych ward wasn't an option. Only the road, and narrow bushes surrounded me. Traffic wasn't much, either. Little bit further down the road was a lonesome tree, and I decided to seek cover in its faint shadow. It was better than frying like an egg on a stone.

  Resting my back against a tree trunk, my mind wandered off to Zack and Sophie. Who knows what was going on in there. At least I knew her doctor must have agreed to try, or Zack would have been back already. I pulled my legs closer, hugged my knees, and twisted my fingers to lock that position. Sitting on nothing but dirt was uncomfortable, and I was thirsty. After working all morning, I was exhausted. Heat and silence made me drowsy, so I dropped my head onto my knees. The air was dry and hot, scorching my lungs.

  I must have dozed off, because somewhere in the back of my mind I heard someone desperately calling me. I lifted my gaze, but the sun blinded me. Couple of blinks, and slowly my eyes adjusted to the light. Suddenly, I became aware that the cries were real. With his voice breaking from screaming, Zack was frantically calling my name. I stood up and saw him in the distance, running in circles, beheaded. I waved, but he didn't see me. He dropped to the ground, and shoved his head between his knees, clasping hands over the head. I called out, but he didn't hear me.

  “Zack!” I called out again when I was nearer. He jolted, and shot up, running toward me. Man, he could run!

  “Lyra! You okay?” He muttered, bending over, putting hands on his knees, trying to catch a breath.

  “Yeah. I was over there behind a tree.”

  Still bent, gasping for air, he looked up, “Didn't you hear me calling you?” His eyes were worried, and face was red from running.

  “No. I must have fallen asleep,” I bowed my head, and drew an imaginary circle with my foot on the ground.

  Zack chuckled, and straightened up. “Thank God. You can't imagine what went through my head.”

  “I'm sorry. I was so tired and—” he cut my apology by putting a finger over my mouth. My heart fluttered. The touch of his finger against my lips had me boiling up inside.

  His gaze softened. “Nevermind,” he said, tucking both hands in his pockets. “You're okay,” his smile widened.

  “And Sophie?”

  “I'll tell you on the way,” he pointed at the bus approaching.

  “But...that's the wrong bus,” I chuckled, thinking he had lost his mind. That one wasn't going in our direction.

  “No, we have to go to the doctor's house,” Zack winked. My jaw dropped, and I was speechless. The bus was too close, so Zack grabbed my hand, and pulled me across the street. At the last minute, the bus driver spotted me, and stopped several feet away, so we ran forward to enter.

  “Thank you,” I said to the bus driver upon entering, and he nodded, closing the door behind me. Zack was already sitting at the back, wearing his usual grin, and patting the seat next to him for me to sit.

  “Spill it,” I said, sitting down.

  “Everything went like I told you it would, but,” he paused, pressing his lips hard. His eyes were smiling, so I knew whatever he was about to say couldn't be all that bad.

  “But what?”

  “The doctor has a test of her own,” Zack chuckled, and shook his head.

  “What test?”

  “The important thing is, she believed us! But to be sure, she wants me to go to her house, and bring her the fifth book, on the second shelf from the top, counting from left to right.”

  “And she'll let Sophie out?” I lifted my brows and widened my gaze, expecting a confirmation.

  “Not so fast,” Zack narrowed his eyes.

  “She won't?” My mouth dropped.

  “She said that, if I bring her the right book, she will let her out, but Sophie will have to deny seeing anything out of the ordinary, and act healed,” Zack's expression was of a worried kind.

  “That's great! Why don't you look happy?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Sophie doesn't want to lie,” Zack dropped his gaze.

  “She has to! Did you tell her that?”

  “Of course I did. And her doctor told her there was no other way; that people aren't ready to accept this kind of thing, and would deny any proof just to keep their beliefs uncompromised,” he let out a long sigh.

  “And?”

  “And Sophie said she'll think about it.”

  “I can't believe it,” I snorted. “So we're going to get the book, and Sophie might still say no?”

  Zack nodded, “I guess so.”

  Both of us went quiet for a few minutes, and then Zack chuckled. I looked at him, confused. He smiled, curving his lips more to the left, and then said:

  “I didn't tell you,” he smacked his forehead.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Sophie's doctor has state of the art security in her house,” he paused, and I goggled my eyes in disbelief.

  “How are you gonna get in? You said you have to use the door like us.”

  “That's the funny part,” he chuckled. “She gave Sophie the key, and Sophie gave it to me.”

  “I don't see the funny part, yet,” I rubbed my brow.

  He pulled out a card, “This is the key. It's a microchip!”

  “Still not funny...”

  “Can't you see?” He looked at me expectantly. I shook my head. “It's a brilliant idea. Undeniable proof that Sophie isn't lying!”

  “True. But not funny.”

  His brows went skywards. “It is funny if you look at it from normal person's perspective. We're all crazy as hell!” He chuckled again. “Passing things from person to person, one realm to another, materializing from thin air. It's nuts!”

  I couldn't find any amusement in it, but I was glad he was getting a kick out of it.

  ~*~

  Doctor's house was a big mansion, encompassed by several feet high walls and thick iron fence, surrounded by a luxurious, carefully groomed garden. Psychiatry must have paid well—I thought. Zack went in over the wall, because the key was for the mansion only, and I was left outside, peeking in through the fence. This key stunt made me feel uneasy about the whole experiment. She could have given him the key to the fence as well. Why give one key, and not the other? That was too playful for my taste.

  Luckily, Zack was invisible to others, so no-one saw him climb that high wall using tree branches and ivy. While he was struggling to get across, I prayed he wouldn't fall. Any of those branches could have easily snapped, and broken leg would be the end of him, unless we could find a surgeon that was also in a coma to help him.

  Zack reached the front door. I held my breath as he was putting in the key. In that split second, it has crossed my mind that it could have been a trick. He could have been set up. My ears started buzzing, and heart pounding. Gripping the fence, my fingers turned pale white. Huge wooden doors opened, and Zack flashed me a smile. Huh. Cold sweat broke through my pores. Plastered to the fence, I had to force myself away from it, or neighbors might call the police about my suspicious activity.

  Next ten minutes were the longest in my life. Like a beast in a cage, I paced back and forth in front of the mansion. Although so far everything went normal, I still wasn't sure Sophie's doctor wasn't playing us. Having a doctor and a nurse for parents made me privy to their way of thinking—rational and down to Earth. Hanging around hospital when I was little was the reason why I never revealed my secret. Everybody knew whose daughter I was, so no-one ever paid attention to the little kid hanging around the hospital halls, watching them. At that young age, my whole perspective on things had changed. Seeing them reassuring patients everything was going to be okay, and then seeing those same patients die, or get worse, made a huge impact on my life. I couldn't trust adults anymore. Oh, why did I let Zack do this? I chided myself. Of course her doc would act as if she believed Sophie, that's what doctors do!

  A loud thud behi
nd my back winced me. Zack had jumped down the wall, grinning wide, holding a copy of a Bible in his hand. Two long seconds had passed between us, and then we broke out laughing.

  “I love this woman,” Zack squeezed out, still laughing.

  “A Bible?” I stepped closer, and Zack handed it to me. I took the thick, black copy in my hand, and turned it around. “Why the Bible?” I asked, and he shrugged.

  “Open it,” Zack said, curving up his lips, and tucking his hands in back pockets.

  Cautiously, I opened the book. It must have been very old, pages were yellowish and chipped. There was an inscription written in black ink. It read:

  “May Lord have mercy on your soul. Psychiatry is the path of the Devil. It's not too late to embrace Christ!”

  I looked at Zack, eyes wide open, smirk trying to break free.

  “The woman has spirit!” Zack chuckled. “You’ve got to give her that.”

  “Uh-huh. And a twisted sense of humor,” I chuckled as well. I felt a bit guilty for doubting her. She obviously had some issues of her own. At least the Bible implied so. I wondered who wrote the inscription. Undoubtedly, someone who didn't approve of her line of work, someone very religious, and possibly close to her. A family member?

  “Let's get going,” Zack took the book back, and we went for the bus.

  ~*~

  Chapter #8

  It was long past sunset when we reached the hospital. I wished I could go in with Zack, but it wouldn't be wise to do so. It might compromise the whole thing. Someone might think Sophie hired me to pull this prank on her doctor. No, I had to stay away one last time.

  Zack tucked the Bible in his back pocket, and put his hands on my shoulders, drawing one deep breath, looking straight into my eyes. “Lyra—”

  As if hypnotized, I breathed a “Mhm?”

  “Stay close,” those wide green eyes were swept a couple of times with thick lashes, begging for my confirmation.

  I smiled, “Sure.”

  “I should be back soon. Don't make me go through that agony again,” he lowered his chin, holding his gaze.

  “I won't. Now get going or I'll freeze to death,” I ran my hands over my arms to stress the point.