The Soul Catcher
Page 12
Leaning even closer to me, his icy hands once again spread their coldness on my skin — this time on my cheek where it’s been sliced open. The cold seeps through it and numbs the pain.
“Thank you for risking everything for us.” His eyes go sad as he looks into mine.
A memory I’d buried deep starts rising to the surface.
“You’re braver than I ever was. Goodbye, kiddo.” He moves his hand before the numbing pain becomes more than I can stand.
Walking away, he leaves me feeling confused. I watch as he takes Nathaniel’s hand and begins to walk into the dark recess of the factory.
The memory finally flashes through my mind. A photograph that has been folded many times: me as a baby in the arms of a man with the same eyes as me. Ink on the back, faded to almost nothing: Jemma and dad.
My mum had found me and had snatched the picture away. That’s when I’d figured out my ‘dad’ wasn’t really my dad. Just like you’re dad,
“Dad?” I call out.
The figure freezes and stiffens. He turns to me, a sad smile on his face. Fresh tears fall from my eyes.
“I’m sorry, kid.” He turns around and walks away, fading into the black, Nathaniel’s hand held tightly in his.
* * *
Tears still falling, I make my way through the old factory. My vision is too blurry for me to see where I’m going; I trample in the blood that’s been spilled throughout the room. I just want to get out of here. Thankfully, the main doors are open and the red and blue lights are guiding me out of there.
Finally making it, I take a gulp of the fresh air as I hear my name croaked out. I look up.
Ripper is lying down on a gurney, hand held out. I run over, not even bothering to dry my tears. He pulls the oxygen mask from his face.
“I wouldn’t let them—” putting the mask back over his face he takes a deep breath, “—wouldn’t let them leave.” Another deep breath. “Not going without you.”
The paramedics put the mask back on.
“We good to go now, sir?” they ask Ripper.
I can’t help but notice the sarcasm in his voice as they ask. I wonder how much of a pain he’s been, and then I wonder how long I’ve been in there. They lower the ramp on the back of the ambulance and gently push the gurney up.
I take a look around to see who I can spot. Farah is sitting with her head on Aidan’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. The SWAT team are milling around, talking to other police that have arrived at the scene — I’ve no idea what story they’re going to tell them. A few people are sitting in the back of ambulances. I watch as another speeds off, sirens and lights blaring.
I hope they’ll be okay.
Searching for Maria, I see her and Mitchell standing over a body. Maria’s head is bowed but she looks up as though she senses me. Her face is etched in a grief so raw I know instantly who the body belongs to.
Climbing into the back of the ambulance with the help of a paramedic, I’m belted into one of the seats. They start cleaning the wound on my face.
“This is going to need stitches,” I hear them say. They sound distant though. I wave them away and they notice the burns on my arms.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened in there?” they ask me.
I’m too numb to talk. They dress the wounds and then the doors are closed. Sirens blare and lights flash as we follow the previous ambulance.
Ripper pulls his mask down again.
“You okay?” he asks me.
I shake my head and let the tears cascade. “I’ll tell you later.”
I reach over and carefully hold his hand so I don’t dislodge the needle in the back of it.
Right now, it feels like he’s the only thing keeping me grounded. We speed off into the night. I let the grief wrap around me until the paramedic walks over and injects me with something. My eyes instantly feel heavy and they gently push me back in my seat, making sure I’m well strapped in.
I give in to the welcome relief of a dreamless sleep, unaware of the eyes following us in the shadows.
The End