Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five)

by Rissa Blakeley

  “So you don’t think it’s just me…being a fuck-up?”

  This was huge. If what he said was true and they cured me, my future would be bright. I could live a truly normal life. Although this information was yet another kick to the bollocks.

  “I believe some of your behavior is due to the virus.”

  I sat silent for a while, fidgeting with the blanket. “If you cure me, do you think some of that will go away?”

  “As of right now, I don’t know. We will monitor you carefully to see if things change, both mentally and emotionally.” He patted my leg and stood. “Can I bring everyone back in?” I nodded, still staring at the blanket, quickly wiping away the tears. He grabbed the call switch. “Come back in.”

  As they walked back through the decontamination stall, I tried to keep myself calm, but all my anxieties screamed. With good reason.

  Erik addressed everyone. “Luke has decided to talk to PJ. After their session, we will begin treatment. Dr. Barter, go over the MRI findings, then we can give them some privacy.”

  Smart enough to stand at a distance, Dr. Twat pulled out two sheets of paper from the folder he carried. He handed one to Michelle, who then gave it to me.

  “This was taken when you had your cranium injury. The red portions are the virus.”

  An image of my brain—a rainbow of colors with small smatterings of red here and there, indicating shit I didn’t understand.

  “What’s this supposed to show?” I asked.

  “I’m getting to that.” He handed Michelle the second sheet. Again, she passed it to me.

  I stared at it in awe. It looked as if someone painted my brain red. There wasn’t much else. A few streaks of blue, green, and yellow, but holy fucking shit. My brain was lit up like a red-light district.

  “This seems…,” I started.

  “Bad,” Dr. Twat said. “The virus has multiplied.”

  “Like bunnies,” I mumbled, staring at the images. I looked up at Erik, who dropped his gaze to the floor. “So, essentially, it’s infiltrated my whole brain.”

  “That is correct,” Dr. Twat said.

  “Wow… I don’t even know what to say.”

  “As we just discussed, this could be a good explanation of some of your behaviors,” Erik added. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to comfort him or me. “All the things you cannot control. Your thought processes, your reactions, your aggressive nature—”

  I held up my hand. “Yeah… Got it. Thanks for the memo.”

  Michelle took the sheets from my hands and passed them back to the doctor. “This would be a great time to chat with PJ,” she said, her eyes displaying so much more than sadness. I wasn’t getting a positive vibe from anyone in the room.

  “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

  Erik lifted his gaze to mine. “You’re at a critical stage. If we don’t go at this hard from the get-go, the likelihood of you living much longer is very slim.”

  “Miniscule,” Dr. Twat corrected.

  “So this is the right choice then. Me being here… I made the right choice.”

  “Absolutely. Without a doubt, I’d rather things go poorly here, where you are contained, than at home.”

  Implication understood. I would be a danger to my family. If I stayed, the possibility was real that I could kill them…either through my anger or by feasting on them.

  A shudder passed through my body as an image of Nicky undead trampled my thoughts.

  There were so many questions, but the big one was whether Gunther’s condition was like mine. Since I received the larger dose, I hoped he wasn’t as sick as I was.

  “Do you think—” I started.

  Erik held up his hand. “Why don’t you have a good chat with Dr. Atbury? Dr. Barter and I will be back in about…” He checked his watch, “an hour with your treatment. Does that work for you, PJ?”

  “Yes. That should give us a good starting point.”

  “Excellent. We’ll see you in a bit then.” Erik nodded and signaled for Dr. Twat and the nurse to leave.

  After they walked out, I slipped out of bed, testing my legs again. They seemed steady, so I walked slowly to the heavy bag. If I didn’t get some of the harrowing emotions out, things could end badly for the head-shrink. One wrong word and I’d tear out his throat.

  “It may be better if you take a seat,” PJ urged.

  God, I fucking hate all the bullshit. “It may be better for you to let me do my thing.”

  PJ nodded. “I suppose we can chat while you work out.”

  “Good plan, Doc.” I squared my shoulders and raised my fists, then lowered them. “This is between you and me, right? The others won’t know what I tell you?”

  “No. The only information they’ll know is what I note in the chart. Diagnosis, treatment plan, and medication, if necessary. They won’t know anything else. So what you tell me is all off the record.”

  I nodded once and turned back, throwing a few soft punches.

  PJ stood a distance away, watching me as I began to punish the bag. Before I knew it, I had stripped off my t-shirt and sweat poured off me.

  “Let’s start with what’s going on in your thoughts.”

  I glanced at him, curling my upper lip. “Death. That’s what’s in my thoughts.” I hit the bag a half-dozen more times, picturing Roger, Erik, and a few others from the cast of jackoffs who did this to me.

  “How did it make you feel to hear that coming here was validated by the scan?”

  I looked at him and snorted. Is this bloke a total moron? “Really? You can’t tell?”

  “I want you to say it. It means more when said, helping you address it so we can jump over the hurdle, make strides, then attack another issue.”

  “What do you want me to say? That I’m pissed?” My voice raised with each word. “That I’m so fucking angry with everything that has happened to me? That I want to beat the fucking life out of everyone who has wronged me? That I hate myself for every stupid thing I’ve done? Is that what you want to hear?” I hit the bag so hard, it rattled the support.

  “Yes. Tell me about your anger, your rages. When they began and what triggers them.”

  “My life has been nothing but one disappointment after another. Even when good things happen, something always tramples it.”

  “What tramples it?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to tell him about the demons. I faced the bag and spoke in between each set. “On my fifth birthday…I watched my mum get beaten and raped so badly…I thought she died… I ran off…and wasn’t found until a day later… She was gone…no mention of her. I haven’t…celebrated my birthday since.”

  “Am I to assume she passed?”

  “No… She was hospitalized for a long time… My cocksucking father kept us apart… He put me in an orphanage…then foster home…after foster home.”

  I pounded the bag with fury once again, thinking about the moment I put a bullet in his head. I felt victorious…until I discovered the bullet from Roger’s gun took out Josiah in the process, proving disappointment was always peeking around the corner, no matter the successes.

  “Okay,” PJ frowned. “You said you didn’t have a father.”

  “I don’t,” I ground out.

  “But you just said—”

  I stepped away from the bag and stalked up to him, shoving him into the wall. The look in his eyes as they darted back and forth, trying to avoid my stare, told me I terrified him.

  Good.

  “I killed him.”

  “You killed him?”

  “Sure did. I proved he wasn’t the god he thought he was.” I tapped my finger between his eyes. “Put a bullet right here. Anything else you want to know about my dark, dirty, tainted past?”

  His swallow was audible. The slight tremble in his body grew as I pushed him into the wall. “Were you convicted?”

  “I thought he was a zombie…” I shrugged. “Oops.”

  “Is there any way you could step back just a bit?�
��

  A smirk lifted my lips. “I could, but this is more fun. Up close and personal. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  The whispers in my head revved up.

  “I’d prefer if we could chat a little farther apart.”

  “Do I frighten you?”

  “A little, yes.”

  “Good. Keep that in mind.” I pushed away from him and walked back to the bag.

  PJ straightened his jacket, tugging at the sleeves. “How did ending his life make you feel?”

  “Bloody amazing.” I dropped my fists and pointed to my head. “Although it affects me.”

  “Taking another’s life isn’t something you can just brush off.”

  “I’ve killed a lot of people, Doc. A lot.”

  “Why?”

  “A variety of reasons. None of which you are privy to.”

  I throttled the bag, the sound overshadowing whatever it was he tried to say. I pounded out the aggression, working to burn out the ire, but to no avail. My chest pumped, my lungs burned, my heart beat at a rhythm I couldn’t track.

  The demons taunted me repeatedly, poking at every open wound. Pain in my chest, my head. Dizzy. Confusion.

  My vision blurred as the world spun in the opposite direction, making me off-kilter.

  PJ reached out to me with a concerned look, muttering, lips moving in slow motion.

  So much white noise…static crackling. Like a vacuum, all exterior sounds were sucked away as the demons shouted out horrid things. Things they wanted me to do. I didn’t want to listen, wanting everything to stop.

  Everything hurt. Blood… There was so much blood. I went cold, sweating as if a fever had broken. More blood. More and more red. Even my blurred vision turned red.

  That’s when I realized I was screaming. Blood-curdling, toenail curling, throat bleeding screaming.

  Hands all over me. Bloody hands. More screaming.

  Faded to blackness. Silence. Trapped in the darkness.

  Chapter 10

  Standing in the lab, Erik waited at the bench while Tess finished mixing Luke’s anti-serum.

  “I bloody hope this works,” she said. “I tested it on a sample of his blood and the results were fifty-fifty.”

  “Shit,” Erik whispered. He jammed his hands up under his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he sat on a stool next to her.

  “Maybe we weren’t as ready as we originally thought.”

  He dropped his hands on the benchtop. “I’m already mentally exhausted. I was up all night, researching, trying to find a better way. It seems as if I have written us into a corner after creating this fucking virus.”

  Tess considered his dark circles, drawn face, and sunken cheeks. His slight frame seemed to get thinner by the day. For once, she felt some compassion for the overworked scientist. As his glasses slid down his nose again, she reached out and shoved them back up.

  “You’re doing everything you can for him. While I think he’s a bellend, Dr. Barter is a great doctor. You have two very capable nurses, even if one brings creepy to a whole new level. A shrink who’s counseled some really messed-up motherfuckers. And, of course, you have me.” She smiled. It was fake, but slightly reassuring. “We’ll get this.”

  “We don’t have a choice.”

  “That’s why I’m in this white room nearly sixteen hours a day, trying different things.”

  Erik reached out and patted Tess’s shoulder. “You’re doing a magnificent job.”

  Before she could brush away his compliment, a loud crash came from Luke’s room.

  They stared at one another for a split second before Erik yelled, “Go get Dr. Barter! Now!”

  Tess got up and ran to the door leading to the hallway.

  At the same time, Erik jumped up, pushed his hand into his lab coat pocket, checking for his knife, before running to the foyer door. The print reader couldn’t disengage the lock fast enough.

  “Come on!” When the lock clicked, he yanked open the door and hit the next print reader. “Come on! Come on!” He stepped into the decontamination stall. Everything seemed to be going too slow. Finally, the door to the chamber unlocked.

  Erik burst through the door, finding both Luke and PJ on the floor, blood all over both of them. “Stay away from him!” he yelled.

  “What? Why?” PJ asked confused. “He’s knocked out.”

  Erik ran to the bin of gloves by the cabinets and slipped on a pair as he rushed over. Taking a quick peek at PJ before rushing to Luke’s side, he asked, “Did you get any of his blood in your mouth?”

  Brow furrowed, PJ replied, “No… Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Go wash up and stay away until we can figure out what happened.” PJ ran into the bathroom, while Erik hit the emergency call switch. He knelt, trying to find where the blood was coming from. He turned Luke’s head. “Fucking hell.” Dr. Barter and Tess emerged from the decontamination stall. “Put on gloves. He has a gash in his scalp.”

  “Knocked out?” the doctor asked as he put on a pair of gloves, dropping to his knees and checking his pulse. “Heart rate’s a little fast, but steady.”

  “Good,” Erik said.

  “Let’s get him up on the bed. Where the fuck is that nurse? We need one…stat,” Dr. Barter growled.

  Just as he closed his mouth, Michelle came through the decontamination door. Her face fell when she saw the blood pooled on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

  “Get on gloves and help us!” Erik yelled.

  “What the fuck happened?” Tess asked PJ as he ran out of the bathroom.

  He shoved his damp hands through his stringy hair. “He was aggressively hitting the bag as we talked. He then swayed on his feet and fell. I tried to grab him, but I couldn’t get there before his head hit the edge of the bed frame.”

  As they rolled Luke onto his stomach, he moaned.

  “Easy, mate,” Erik said softly. “We need to stop the bleeding and stitch you up.”

  Was I flying?

  Drifting into nothingness?

  My soul searching for heaven or hell?

  I felt a chill.

  Muffled noise, a whisper wrapping around my mind, digging into the dark depths. A moan. Bleeding…

  Air rushed around me.

  “Luke…?”

  What? Who’s Luke? I thought, my eyelids heavy. “Henry,” I said in a slur. I tried to open my eyes to—

  “Who’s Henry?” a woman asked.

  Wait… I managed to open one eye, staring down the shirt of someone with a pair of spectacular tits bending over me. Her face became clearer.

  The nurse… Michelle.

  “Head hurts…,” I groaned.

  “You have a nasty gash in your scalp. It’s bleeding pretty badly, but you’ll be fine.” She smiled and swiped a cloth over my forehead as a mixture of sweat and blood ran down my face.

  There were a whole lot of words, chatting, and sounds I couldn’t focus on. When something heavy rested on my back, I groaned and tried to shift.

  She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Just be still. Dr. Barter is about to—”

  “Fuck!” I yelled, trying to get off the bed as something seared my head, my flight response kicking in.

  She took my hand and rubbed her thumb across my palm. “Shhh… Luke, look me in the eyes.” I did my best to focus on her, but the pain was bad. “Dr. Barter—”

  “Twat,” I mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Dr. Twat.” I watched her eyes shift to above my head, then I felt a tug on my wound, burning pain radiating through me. I wanted to vomit. “Ugh…fuck… What’s he doing?”

  “Look at me.” Again, I tracked my gaze to hers. “He’s cleaning the wound.” She paused, her gaze moving above me for only a second before we made eye contact again. “He’s going to start stitching now.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to stay calm, hoping any rage or sickness would cease, but it didn’t work.

  It felt like three days before I heard Michelle say,
“Halfway there.”

  “Fuck me,” I moaned.

  I had no power, no will, no strength. I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry like a fucking baby. The malicious laughter in my head grew in volume. I closed my eyes, trying not to focus on the devastating words the demons said.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I popped my eyes open. “Never will be…”

  She pursed her lips, concern filling her eyes as she continued to circle my palm with her thumb. I still had a great view of her tits, but no matter. I was ready to throw in the towel.

  As she stared into my eyes, her head cocked to one side, eyes narrowed, lips puckered for a split second.

  “Your eyes. They seem—”

  Erik interrupted. “Gray?”

  “Yeah. Like a muddy mix of green and gray. It’s odd. I haven’t seen this before.”

  “We need to hurry up,” Erik said.

  “Five more and we should be good.” Silence. Everything stood still. No breathing, including me. “And we’re closed. Ms. Fogerty, wrap the area with a dressing.”

  She walked around to the other side of the bed. Oh, fuck… The more touching, the more I whimpered.

  “I’m sorry. Just give me one second,” she said. “Okay. We’re done.”

  “Christ…,” I groaned as a weight lifted from my back.

  “You muscleheads are not as comfy as I had hoped,” Tess said, patting my ass, coming into sight.

  “Why did you sit on me?” I moaned as Erik and Michelle helped me roll over.

  “Because,” she said with a smirk, “I know how mental you are and what a big ol’ baby you can be.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I love you, too, tosspot.” She smirked and headed out of the chamber.

  Erik patted my leg. “Do you know what happened?”

  I glanced at PJ and Dr. Twat. “I don’t know. I was chatting with PJ and hitting the bag. A dizziness took over and I think I passed out or something.”

  “Did you ever pass out before you came here?” Dr. Twat asked.

  “Only when I was pissed up.”

  “Hmm…,” he said, rubbing his chin. He took out his penlight and shined it into my eyes. “Headache?”

  “What do you think?” I asked, annoyed.