Gypsy Cradle: a psychic paranormal thriller (The Gypsy Medium Series Book 2)

by Andrea Drew

  “It’s my pulse. My heart’s banging so hard, and I can’t—I can’t breathe properly.”

  Christie’s breath really did sound raspy, and her eyes were wide. Ryan called out to the hospital orderly. “Can something be done? She says she can’t breathe properly, she’s distressed.”

  The orderly pressed a button on the side of the bed rail.

  “I’m sorry; I’m going to have to ask you to meet us up there. I’m going to call in the team.” The orderly’s fingers were resting on Christie’s wrist. “We’re going upstairs. The staff there will help her.”

  Ryan remained at the edge of the corridor, unmoving, as she was whisked away from him with a burst of intense speed.

  God, he hoped she would be okay. Ryan flicked the sweat off his brow and sat down on a plastic chair. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Connor. Something’s wrong, Christie has been rushed off for treatment. Get to the hospital ASAP.

  Tuesday 22nd January, 12.33pm

  Gypsy curled in the fetal position on the bedroom floor, gasping to get her breath through her tears. A loud, confident voice burst into her head.

  −Gypsy, get up!

  −Who the hell is this. Leave me alone, Renee.

  −Yes! What are you doing on the floor? Get up, Christie needs you.

  −Go away. It’s none of my business anymore. I tried to help, but it hasn’t done any good. Connor’s gone.

  In her bedroom, Renee shook her head. She’d have to snap her aunt out of this, and fast.

  −Isabella visited me again. We need your help. Brenton is stalking Ryan. Renee’s voice sounded clear and confident. This taking charge business was becoming a habit.

  −He’s a nutcase…

  Renee watched with satisfaction as Gypsy pushed herself up from the floor and walked over with wobbly legs to collapse on the bed.

  −Brenton’s been parking his rental car outside Ryan and Christie’s place. He’s packed a bag, ready to do a runner, but before he does, he hopes he’ll convince Ryan to come with him.

  −What about Christie?

  −The hospital staff weren’t sure about your message at first. They thought you were a random nutter, until they spoke to Connor and he agreed that Christie might have been poisoned with antifreeze. So they’ve done tests.

  −Thank god someone is listening.

  Renee’s heart rate was racing, almost exploding. She hadn’t wanted to get involved, but after another visit from Isabella, she knew she had to. Renee licked her lips. She wanted to run away and hide, curl up in her bed. Maybe after this was all over, she could.

  −Just in time, too. Christie’s heart is beginning to fail. The poison is affecting her internal organs. Isabella says they’ll get the antidote to her soon, though. She should make it.

  −So what’s being done about this Brenton crackpot?

  −Nothing at the moment, but then he’s only just crossed the line. Yesterday he sat outside Ryan’s home, but luckily, his friend Jake convinced him to go home. Today, though−he broke in.

  Renee suppressed a cry. She wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t help. Gypsy would sort it out, but that didn’t stop her heart from banging in her chest like a runaway train.

  − Oh my god…

  −Isabella is worried it could get nasty if Ryan goes home and finds him. Brenton is lying in their bed, and has Ryan’s clothes draped across him. He’s fallen asleep.

  Gypsy felt a creeping sensation across her skin.

  −I knew Brenton had problems, but this is ridiculous. I’m going over there.

  −Not yet. Isabella wants you to talk to Connor first.

  −I don’t think Connor wants to talk to me. He said he needed time to think.

  −Isabella said that later tonight the hospital would verify that you were right. The doctor will be talking to Connor and Ryan then. Once Connor realizes the mistake he’s made, he’ll be more willing to listen.

  −I need to go over there.

  −No! Brenton’s still loose. Wait! Christie is okay for now, but she could yet be in more danger. You still have to convince Connor to listen to you. Just wait.

  Renee broke the connection, and Gypsy threw herself back on the bed. She hoped that the separation from Connor would be temporary, not permanent.

  Tuesday 22nd January, 1.38pm

  Ryan sat on the plastic chair in the hospital corridor, face gray, his forearms resting on his legs. Footsteps clicked to his right, and raising his head, he saw Connor arrive.

  “Connor.”

  He placed one arm lightly on Ryan’s shoulder. “I came as soon as I heard. How is she?”

  “They said they weren’t quite sure. They need to run more tests. They whisked her away after her heart rate went up and she struggled to breathe. Then I heard an announcement over the speakers, saying ‘code blue,’ and I wondered if it was for her.”

  “She’ll be fine, mate.”

  “I don’t know what to think. All I know is I want Christie back. I’m even wondering if Gypsy was right and we were too quick to judge her. Maybe Christie has been poisoned. Nothing else explains it.”

  “We’ll find out when the doctor arrives. How about a coffee?”

  “I guess.” Ryan ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe if I’d done things differently, things would have been different—Christie would be safe.”

  “How do you figure that? Come on, let’s go.” Connor stood and beckoned Ryan to follow.

  “A coffee won’t hurt. Maybe we could check in with the doctors when we get back.”

  “Good idea.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tuesday 22nd January, 2.26pm

  Brenton woke up, smiled and ran his hands over the sheets. He could smell Ryan everywhere, in the closet, on the bedding. He didn’t want to leave, nor did he want to think about what might happen if Ryan discovered him.

  He decided he’d have another look around, get to know Ryan a bit more. He started with the bathroom cupboards, discovering wonders such as shaving cream, gel and razor blades, but no medications that he could see. Brenton had been on antidepressants for a while. He hated the dullness they gave him, but they seemed to keep him from dangerous highs. He wondered if either Christie or Ryan was on them, but it didn’t look like it.

  As he stood up, he heard chimes echoing throughout the hallway. Someone was ringing the doorbell. Shit. Brenton stood still, barely daring to breathe, waiting for the unexpected caller to give up and step away from the front door. He hadn’t left his car in the driveway, so there was nothing to give away his presence.

  The doorbell rang again.

  It was probably just a door-to-door sales person and so Brenton ignored it, and continued rifling through the bathroom cupboards, hoping for a gem, some discovery that would give him insight into Ryan’s life. Nothing.

  The mystery caller had started knocking on the door, quietly at first, then louder.

  He heard footsteps shuffling on the front porch, then a voice.

  “Brenton. Brent! Are you in there? Open the door!”

  Jake had found him. He tried ignoring him for a while longer, but the foot shuffling and knocking began again, even louder this time.

  The knocking became pounding. If he didn’t answer it soon, one of the neighbors might hear the commotion and do something about it.

  Brenton ran to the front door and opened it. There was Jake, red-faced, out of breath, and wild-eyed.

  Jake pushed his way in and slammed the door shut. “What the hell are you thinking? You know breaking and entering is illegal, right?”

  He turned away. “Give it a rest, Jake. I didn’t damage the place. One of the windows was open, almost like someone wanted me to get in.”

  “Okay, you’ve officially lost your mind. Let’s get out of here, now.”

  Brenton crossed his arms. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. It was time for Jake to leave.

  “The only reason I let you in is because you were making too much noise. It’s time for yo
u to leave.”

  “One of us needs to see sense. Come on, let’s go, we won’t talk about it again. If the cops find out about this, it’ll get ugly. You’ll be arrested.”

  Brenton headed toward the couch and threw himself onto it. “Too late for that.”

  Jake hesitated before joining Brenton on the couch. “What do you mean, too late?”

  When Brenton didn’t reply, he spoke again, going pale. “Oh god, what have you done?”

  Brenton smiled. “Nothing too major. Just spiked his girl’s drink with a little something.”

  Jake fell back onto a chair across from Brent. “Are you completely mad? You spiked her drink? With what?”

  “A little something I found in the garage.” Brenton wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “Like poison, you mean? What the hell have you done?” Jake pushed himself up from the chair and stormed toward Brenton, grabbed his shoulders and began shaking him. Brenton threw up an arm to knock him away.

  “Get your hands off me!” Brenton’s breath escaped in short gasps.

  “I don’t believe this! Not only have you broken into his house, but also you’ve poisoned his girlfriend! Every second that I’m here, I’m an accessory now. You know that, right?”

  “I didn’t ask you to come.” Brenton would no longer look at his friend. Instead, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

  “No you didn’t. I came because I’m your friend—not that I think you even understand what a real friend is. God knows you don’t deserve any friends, not after this. We could both end up in jail.”

  “You’re free to leave whenever you please. If you’re so worried about ending up in jail, then go. There’s no way anyone will know it was me; the poison I used is colorless and completely untraceable. Of course, I had planned on telling the hospital the name of the poison, anonymously of course.”

  “But why? Why did you do this? It’s madness!” Jake’s voice sounded hysterical and he flailed his hands around.

  Brenton covered his face with his hands and began to cry. Jake stopped pacing the room, ran his hands through his hair, and swore softly. He kneeled in front of Brenton.

  Brenton began to speak but Jake couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “Brent,” he said softly, “slow down, I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Breathe in, and out.”

  As Jake spoke, Brenton took short, sharp breaths and his shoulders heaved.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be like this. It’s just Ryan, he’s the one.”

  Jake rested his hand on Brenton’s shoulder. “We can still make this right. Let’s call the hospital, then the police.”

  Brenton hiccupped and blew his nose. “I want you to know, Jake, it was never meant to be like this. I planned on making the call before now, it all got out of control and before I knew it−”

  “I know, I know.” Jake’s voice was soothing, quiet. “We need to talk to someone now, we can’t wait, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He stood up and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

  He heard a car pull up, then footsteps across the driveway to the front porch. He froze, his gaze fixed on Brenton.

  “Who’s that?” whispered Brenton, eyes wide. A key turned in the lock, and the door creaked, as it swung open. Ryan stood in the hallway, fury written across his face.

  Tuesday 22nd January, 5.15pm

  Christie couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she fell asleep. She remembered her heart banging so hard in her chest she thought it would burst through, and she remembered desperately sucking in each ragged painful breath. She remembered being surrounded by people, barking out orders at each other and wheeling over equipment. Ryan and Connor were nowhere to be seen.

  Drowsiness overcame her, sleep pulling her down. She had tried to force her eyes to stay open, but it was impossible. She drifted off, and in her dreams, she found herself in a darkened room with light streaming in through the windows. The slimy creatures and monsters of earlier nightmares were gone. A hand smoothed her hair, and she turned to see her mother and father beside her.

  “Mum, Dad,” she whispered, unable to say much more than that. Her throat closed over, and hot tears welled in her eyes.

  “Shh, honey, it’s okay. We wanted to let you know we’re here for you.”

  Christie wondered why they were here. Did this mean she’d already died? She’d heard about near death experiences and people being drawn to the light and seeing dead loved ones. She tried to open her mouth to ask her parents what was happening, where her grandfather was, but no words came out.

  She closed her eyes and smiled as her mother continued to stroke her hair. It took her back to her childhood, when Dad had been alive. Life was so different then; Mum wasn’t drinking and she actually paid attention to them. After her father had died in the explosion, everything had been different.

  The hair stroking was sending her back to sleep. She realized that falling asleep inside a dream seemed weird. She felt a pinch on her arm.

  “Wake up.”

  Christie opened her eyes slowly. Beside her bed was a child, a girl maybe 9 or 10 years old with long brown hair and a serious face, studying her intently.

  “It’s not time to go to sleep yet, wake up.”

  Christie opened her mouth in a second attempt to speak, but was unsuccessful.

  “It’s okay, you don’t need to talk. I can read your thoughts. For now, all you need to know is that I’m a friend. It’s not your time yet—if you do sleep, stay away from the light.”

  Stay away from the light?

  The young girl’s gaze did not leave Christie. “For now, you need to rest. Don’t worry you’ll see Ryan and Connor again.”

  Christie let out a long breath, and wondered if it would be okay to sleep. Isabella nodded at her, and she drifted downward into unconsciousness.

  Tuesday 22nd January, 6.01pm

  Ryan and Connor arrived back at the ward and hovered around the nurses’ station. Connor spoke first.

  “Hello. We’re the family of Christie Reardon. Could we have a word with a doctor, please?”

  The dark-haired nurse smiled at them. “Certainly, he’ll be with you shortly. Have a seat.”

  Connor and Ryan resumed their position on the rickety plastic orange chairs in the corridor. Ryan jiggled a foot on the linoleum floor and Connor rubbed his chin. Within minutes, a tall gray-haired man in a suit appeared at the station and conferred quietly with the nurses. He flicked a glance over at Ryan and Connor. They both rose as he approached them with clicking heels. “I’m Dr. McKenzie. I thought you’d like an update on Christie’s progress.”

  “Please, yes, we’d appreciate it,” said Connor, removing his hands from his pockets.

  “Christie is currently in ICU, where she’s getting the best care available.”

  “Intensive care? What happened?”

  “She struggled for a while, but she’s stable now.”

  Ryan rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin, and slowly sat back down. “What happened to her? Will she be okay?”

  “She’ll be fine now. Unfortunately, we weren’t aware that her internal organs were going into failure, but then, that’s the nature of the substance she was given.”

  The doctor’s lip curled and he shook his head.

  “Poison?”

  “We were advised, as you may remember, Mr. Reardon, that Christie may have been poisoned with ethylene glycol. When we conducted further tests, we discovered the crystals in her system. She’s been given the antidote.”

  Ryan covered his face with his hands, and Connor began pacing.

  Connor pulled in his brows and swallowed hard. The news meant serious implications. Gypsy had been right all along, and he’d doubted her, of all people, he’d doubted her.

  “The poison is unique in that it is traceless unless specifically tested for, and its effects mimic symptoms of other diseases. More specifically, her vomiting and hallucinations during the first 12 hours
were the poison taking effect.”

  Connor sat down, gripping the side of the chair.

  Connor hadn’t been prepared for Gypsy being right. He’d been so convinced that Christie would be fine, and that Isabella and Gypsy were wrong, that he’d nearly lost his daughter. He didn’t know if she’d forgive him, or even where to start.

  “Her seemingly miraculous recovery on the second day was part of the poison making its way through her system. Although she appeared well, at that point her organs were being damaged one by one. If the poison had continued its journey through her body, she would have suffered kidney failure, heart failure then death.”

  Ryan took a step closer to the doctor, leaning forward. “How long ago was she given the antidote?”

  “We rushed the antidote to her as soon as the test results came through a couple of hours ago. She’s resting comfortably. It’s a waiting game now, I’m afraid, to see how she recovers.”

  Ryan blew out a breath.

  “Any ideas on how long?” said Ryan.

  The doctor shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing. We are monitoring her closely, though, she’s in good hands. By this time tomorrow we’ll know more.”

  Connor’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came.

  Ryan’s shoulders sagged. “Could it be a matter of hours?”

  “Probably not. Now would be a good time to get some rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll definitely know more. Christie is getting the very best care available, that I can promise you.”

  Connor pushed hair out of his eyes and spoke softly. “Thank you doctor, you’ve saved Christie’s life. We appreciate what you did, more than I can tell you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank the person who notified us of the poison. Without that information, we may have had a different outcome today.”

  Connor covered his face in his hands. “Gypsy,” he whispered. “I’ll be here again tomorrow to see how she’s doing. Take care,” the doctor said, before his heels clicked down the corridor.

  Ryan moved across to the chair nearest Connor. “What’s your take on all that?”