Pain

by Adam Southward

  The scalpel stabbed and twisted. She pulled it out and repeated. Her high grew steadily, but she had a long way to go. Her arms were next. Her fingers. She jammed the tip of the scalpel under the nail of the index finger on her left hand and twisted it away, laughing and screaming at the same time.

  She was vaguely aware of the blood. Her hand was slippery and so was her body. Looking down, her clothes were stained deep red. The white tiled floor was growing red as the blood seeped out of her many cuts.

  Still she continued.

  Her vision blurred as she reached the apex of her high. In a frenzy, stabbing repeatedly, she saw Alex dancing around, trying to get near her. Whenever he got close she swiped at him, stabbing the blade towards his face. Specks of blood flew off her arm and hand, spraying the doctor’s white coat. He was shouting, screaming at her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Mia was lost in her high.

  This was beyond the pleasure of others. This was her own pain, and it was exquisite. Twenty wounds. Twenty-one. With each, the pain increased and so did the pleasure. A twisted dance of complementary opposites. Yin and yang so perfectly entwined they created a perfect balance of euphoria. Mia panted, closing her eyes, groaning at the effect.

  Dizziness. To be expected, of course, but this was faster and more disturbing than her normal highs. She shivered. Why would she feel cold? The building was hot; hospital wards were always warm.

  Vertigo and chills swamped her body. As if being bathed in ice on a spinning top, Mia sank to her knees, slipping on the floor as she fell. The blood coated everything. Her eyes were red.

  The blood. Of course.

  The blood is what kept her warm.

  She stared down at her body. The blood pumped out of it. Her blood. How could she have stopped it?

  The red faded to black. Mia’s high was complete. She closed her eyes. A dull, pleasurable thud welcomed her head to the floor.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  The red from the overhead lights flashed against Mia’s skin. It oozed with blood, creating a horrifying vision before Alex. She was alive, but unconscious. On initial inspection, he didn’t think it was loss of blood, but as he put his hands on her, he realised how deep some of the wounds went. One in particular, on her thigh, seemed to pulse with blood. A nicked artery. He looked around, finding a roll of tape on the floor where the hospital trolley had overturned. He grabbed it and tore off a few strips, trying in vain to stick them over the bleeding wound. It was no use, so he grabbed the roll and wound it round her leg three or four times. The tape held against the wound, but he’d bought time, nothing more.

  He had managed to push his anxiety deep down while he focused on Mia’s frenzy, but now it lurched up and he found himself trembling. ‘What have you done?’ he whispered, holding her limp body. His hands were slippery with her blood, his shirt covered and his trousers soaked.

  Alex was on the verge of panic. He could leave her. She was a killer and this is what karma would demand. This is what the public would demand, and the police wouldn’t protest too hard.

  But as he stared at her young face his heart tugged with fury. This wasn’t her fault. This poor girl had been transformed into a monster and couldn’t be left to die. Alex owed her more. He’d failed to catch her, then failed to rescue her. He couldn’t let his third and last failure be her death.

  ‘Mia,’ he whispered. ‘Please wake up, Mia.’

  She remained unconscious, breathing slowly. Her eyelids fluttered.

  Alex rested her against the side of the bed. It wobbled and the occupant groaned, but his voice was weaker than before and Alex didn’t have time to check him. He would be a casualty of this battle. Alex had other priorities.

  He crouched, searching the room. What did he need? He crawled to the unconscious doctor and checked her pulse. It was strong, but the crack on the jaw had rattled her enough to keep her under. Alex rummaged through her pockets but found nothing except a mobile phone. It was half charged, locked but had full network signal. He dropped it and pulled his own phone out. Full signal too. He must be out of range of whatever jamming technology they’d been using.

  He paused for a second, thinking through his next move. He’d considered it from the moment he saw Mia strapped to the bed. He’d thought about it from the day Laurie had made it clear what would happen when they caught their killer. It might not be the right move, but Alex knew he would do it anyway.

  He looked up the correct number and went to hit the dial button.

  ‘Put the phone down, Alex.’

  Alex froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. He turned in his crouched position to see the dark-haired woman at the doorway. She held a small pistol pointed at his chest. Behind her stood the same bald man who’d been with her before, plus two guards, all blocking his exit.

  The woman tilted her head, peering at Mia propped against the bed, bleeding on to the floor.

  Alex kept his hand on the phone but didn’t touch the screen. He held it up in surrender. Would she shoot? She didn’t have the eyes of a killer, Alex thought he could tell that much. She held the gun but there was hesitation in her stance. She was tense, indecisive. Alex saw her frown as she took in Mia’s condition.

  ‘Where are you taking her?’ asked the woman.

  ‘Hospital,’ said Alex. ‘She needs help.’

  The woman raised her eyebrows. ‘Apart from stating the obvious. Why would you take her away? She can only be treated by us.’

  Alex dropped his hands to his side. The gun remained trained on him.

  ‘But you’re not keeping her . . . here. And you’re not taking her.’ Alex nodded past her, to the corridor still flashing with red lights. ‘You’re leaving.’

  The heavyset man leaned in, whispering a few words. ‘The police,’ he said, ‘they are at Compound E. We need to get you out of here.’

  The woman nodded but didn’t move. She tore her eyes off Mia and stared at Alex. ‘You think putting her in police custody will help her?’

  Alex shook his head. He didn’t know how to answer. ‘She’s killed so many,’ he said. ‘What would you expect me to do?’

  To his surprise, the woman laughed. ‘Expect from you? I have no idea. You always were a little unpredictable.’

  Alex felt hot. Her laugh triggered a vivid memory. He saw himself on the floor of an abandoned building, cradling his daughter, Katie, promising it was over; promising her that Dad had found her and it would all be OK. He smelled the brick dust and the plaster, the stale air and the cold breeze whistling up the stairwell.

  It was the memory of Victor Lazar’s final stand, when he took Alex’s daughter and held a knife to her throat. Victor had held Alex within his control, total and unwavering, and was on the verge of killing them both, father and daughter, in revenge for his own suffering.

  And then Victor had disappeared and Katie was in Alex’s arms.

  ‘I’ll help her,’ said Alex. ‘That’s what I intend to do. If you let me go.’

  The woman stared through him. Her eyes were deep and Alex was losing himself in them. She sighed, tilting her head one way then the other.

  ‘You don’t remember me, Alex,’ she said, ‘but I remember you. It was intentional, the way it had to be. Perhaps one day I’ll explain, but that day has not yet come.’

  The man hissed into her ear.

  The gun lowered. The woman spat a few words at her companion, who backed away, disappearing out of sight towards the rooms and the corridors Alex had just escaped from.

  ‘I must leave,’ she said, lowering the gun. ‘This place is in chaos – because of you.’

  Alex swallowed. What was her game?

  ‘You brought me here,’ he countered. ‘I didn’t ask for it.’

  ‘Oh, but you did,’ she said, her tone losing its warmth for an instant. ‘Because you were warned away and you didn’t listen. Your leash is too long, Alex.’

  Alex paused. His mind raced. He stared and she met his gaze. They locked eyes for an age, unable
to break away. Alex’s breathing become shallow and his heart rate increased. He was on the edge, his anxiety peaking. She seemed to draw it up, pulling his panic to the surface.

  He felt suspended in time, held by her in the moment. She barely moved, only her chest expanding and contracting with each breath. Alex felt his own breathing falling in rhythm, mirroring her, controlled by her.

  And then, in an instant, she let him go. Alex’s shoulders fell like a marionette dropped by its puppeteer.

  Her expression changed. She looked deep in thought, casting her eyes on Mia then cocking her head, listening to the background hum of increasing mayhem. She made her decision quickly.

  ‘Take her,’ she said. ‘The fire escape.’ She gestured behind her. ‘Turn right and follow the path along the side of the building. At the very end, go left and you’ll find a gate in the chain-link fence.’ She threw Alex a swipe card on a lanyard. ‘Use that to open the fire escape and the gate.’

  Alex bent to retrieve it. He wanted to speak, to say something. Not thank her, but ask her why. A thousand questions presented themselves and he stumbled over his words, trying to find the first.

  ‘Goodbye, Alex,’ she said, ‘or, perhaps, au revoir.’

  The woman turned and headed back into the building.

  ‘Wait!’ shouted Alex. She paused.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he said, hoping it would trigger his memory.

  Again the woman laughed. ‘That depends,’ she said. ‘But I like Talia.’

  Her laugh faded and she turned away, striding after her colleague. She didn’t glance back, leaving Alex alone in the room with Mia bleeding on the floor and two dying patients in their beds.

  Alex didn’t pause this time. He shoved his phone and the swipe card into his pocket and knelt, heaving Mia over his shoulder, ignoring the blood and the stench of her body. With some difficulty, he stood, heading to the fire exit doors, blindly trusting the word of the woman who’d kidnapped him and held a gun to his chest.

  Talia. A woman he knew yet had no memory of. Another part of the puzzle, but one he’d have to leave for another day. Today, he had to save Mia Anastos and figure out his next move. He had a plan to put into action, and by the increasing wail of the alarms, very little time to do it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  The woman who called herself Talia was true to her word. Alex didn’t know why she’d let him go or helped him, but he didn’t question it. Not today.

  The path led Alex to a razor-topped fence sheltered behind a short, squat brick building. The swipe card opened the gate and he stepped through, still carrying Mia. The complex behind him rang with the sound of alarms. Diesel engines gunned and he could hear gearboxes crunching as lorries started up.

  Beyond the alarms came the welcoming sound of sirens. Police? It had to be. They were near, although the pitch was changing – the cars were still moving and distant.

  Compound E, the Russian man had said. A different part of the estate? How would the police know where to go?

  Alex struggled with Mia across a rough patch of scrubland. The grass was thick and within it lay hidden rubble and other detritus. Alex stumbled several times. Mia fell and he caught her. Checking her pulse, he forced her back on to his shoulder and pushed on.

  Glancing around, Alex realised they must be on waste ground on the other side of the complex, a long way from the road where he’d been captured. Behind him lay a row of dark buildings, but the appearance to the rear was disordered, not the clean lines that the facades presented to the road. The buildings looked even larger from here, intimidating in their height and cold exterior.

  He couldn’t see far in any direction. Trees to the left and high corrugated-metal fences surrounding low brick structures to the right. The police sirens still screamed in the wind but they were fading. How big was this estate? Were the sirens even for him?

  Alex found a path between two high fences. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could carry Mia, but if he didn’t hurry she’d be dead and all of this would be wasted effort. Nova was packing up and anything of value might be gone soon.

  The alley continued for some distance until Alex found himself at the kerb to a different road in the estate, this one flanked by more familiar industrial units, their logos standing proud at each entrance, customers and workers milling around the parking lots. The razor wire gave way to low fences with wires strung between wooden posts. The Nova buildings seemed distant and foreign. How easily they hid among the rest.

  Alex paused, stepping back into the alley, out of sight. He lay Mia against the fence and pulled out his phone.

  Mikey answered on the third ring.

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘Listen, Mikey. I need a huge favour.’

  Mikey found them without too much trouble. Alex relayed the names of all the businesses he could see and Mikey plugged them into his satnav. He arrived in less than thirty minutes. Alex stayed hidden until he saw Mikey’s BMW approaching. He jumped out of the alley to meet him.

  ‘Shit, man,’ said Mikey as Alex emerged with Mia in his arms. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Open the back door,’ said Alex.

  Mikey hesitated, but only for a second. Their friendship covered all the unanswered questions. Alex would explain everything later. Right now, there was no time.

  ‘You’re paying for the cleaning,’ said Mikey, watching the blood smear over the ivory-coloured leather of the car’s interior. ‘Is she alive?’

  ‘Just,’ said Alex. ‘Give me a pen and paper.’

  Mikey rummaged in the glove compartment. ‘Here.’

  Alex scribbled his instructions on one sheet, taking his time to get them right, glancing nervously at Mia. Putting his plan on paper was more difficult than he’d thought. He scribbled out and rewrote several sections, aware of the seconds ticking away. Distilling everything he knew, all of the conclusions he’d reached. A tentative diagnosis, more guesswork than science. It would have to do.

  ‘Check her pulse,’ he said to Mikey.

  ‘Still strong,’ said Mikey, reaching over and holding Mia’s wrist. He wiped his hand on his trousers afterwards, watching the blood stain his chinos. ‘How many times was she stabbed?’

  Alex shook his head and kept writing. He folded the paper three times, writing a name in capital letters on the outside of the fold.

  He grabbed another piece of paper and wrote an address on it.

  ‘I need you to take Mia here,’ said Alex, giving Mikey the second sheet. ‘Hand her over to this doctor, and only him. He’s a friend – you can trust him. Give him this note.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Mikey, peering towards the back seat. ‘You’re not coming with me?’

  ‘No,’ said Alex. ‘I need to do something else. Promise me you’ll do this. I’ll explain everything later.’

  Mikey looked bewildered at the thought of driving across town with a blood-covered fugitive on his back seat, but he nodded, pulling a blanket out of the trunk and covering Mia as best he could.

  ‘You know what you’re doing?’ he said. ‘I’ve got . . . product in the car. That’s all.’

  Alex understood. A car containing stolen drugs and a stab victim would be the end of Mikey if he happened to be pulled over. The fact that Hartley knew about Mikey’s antics was not something Alex decided to share at this point in time.

  ‘I think so,’ said Alex, not at all convinced, but he was committed. Once Mikey drove off, he would set himself on a path that couldn’t be changed. If he tried, he’d be joining Mikey in the police cell. He nodded.

  ‘Go,’ he said.

  Alex watched Mikey drive off before withdrawing to the alley. He sat against the fence, checking the time on the phone, deciding to give it another twenty minutes. Long enough for Mikey to get a good head start.

  His heart thudded. His anxiety had been tempered by the exertion and focus of carrying Mia. Still out of breath, he now used it to burn the adrenaline, thankful he was still coping. He should have asked Mi
key for some Xanax, but in the heat of the moment he’d forgotten. He cursed, clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth while the minutes ticked on.

  His plan had been rapid and was full of holes. It was simple, though, and in Alex’s experience, simple often won out. He’d find out soon enough.

  The sirens had almost disappeared. It was hard to tell at a distance, the Doppler effect changing the pitch and tempo and the wind carrying the sound and reflecting it off the buildings.

  No one came along the alley, which was one thing to be thankful for. Trying to explain his blood-soaked clothes would be difficult.

  The twenty minutes passed. Alex gave it two more for luck, figuring he’d need as much as he could get, before dialling again.

  The call was answered immediately.

  ‘Alex?’ Laurie’s voice was high-pitched. Alex could hear the sounds of a car engine and a siren.

  ‘Where are you?’ he said.

  A pause.

  ‘Where am I? Where the hell are you, Alex?’

  Alex heard the siren cut out and the screech of tyres as Laurie stopped her car. He took a deep breath and started from the beginning, from his decision to approach the address at the industrial estate and his detainment under sedation by the security guards to his escape. His carefully crafted story accentuated every little detail about the facility and his suspicions of what was happening there. He described the observation room in which he’d been held and the patient rooms he’d spied on his way out, some of them recently occupied. He described the final ward through which he’d escaped, holding two near-death patients, one of whom had been subjected to very recent and barbaric surgery.

  He laid out his theory that these buildings were being used for illegal drug trials on human subjects, and that his presence here had started a frantic clean-up operation to ship out subjects and pharmaceuticals.

  Most importantly, he told Laurie he’d found Mia Anastos strapped to a bed in a secure room. Nova had got to her first and had been holding her captive.