Love Lies Dying

by Steve Gerlach

  “Can you feel it now, Johnny? Can you feel that?”

  He was nodding his head frantically. He couldn’t talk, his mouth wouldn’t work.

  She leaned closer to him and sniffed the air ag

  ain.

  She smiled and nodded.

  “That’s better,” she said. “That’s pain. You can feel it now, I can tell.”

  He was still nodding, looking down at his shoulder as the blood began to pulse out of the wound, pool around the knife and flow down his arm. He tried desperately to get his hands to work behind him, but his back was pressing down on his arms and he couldn’t seem to co-ordinate them properly.

  The pain was too much. His empty stomach turned over and he felt as if his feet were weak and useless under him. The world was rocking back and forth, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a grip on anything.

  “This…” he tried to get his words together. “This can’t…happen. You’re…you’re…crazy.”

  Zoe smiled at him.

  “We all go a little crazy sometimes, Johnny.”

  He looked up at her, but he couldn’t focus properly. Her face kept blurring in front of him.

  He blinked, trying to regain his focus, but it was no use.

  Too hard.

  “Why?” he muttered.

  Zoe laughed.

  He was sure he heard her laugh.

  “Why?” she mimicked him. “Why?”

  He nodded, his head falling to one side.

  “I’ve asked myself that many times too, Johnny,” she whispered in his ear. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  He lifted his head once more, and saw her eyes floating in front of him.

  “You’re…sick…” the words were spinning in his head. “You’re…crazy.”

  “No, Johnny,” she said. “I’m far from crazy.”

  He watched her as she reached out and grabbed the knife handle with both hands.

  He nodded, “Yes….pull it out….please.”

  “My pleasure,” she replied as she yanked it from his shoulder.

  Stars exploded in his eyes. Pain tore through him as the teeth of the blade sliced through skin and muscle again. He gritted his teeth as tears cascaded down his cheeks.

  Only a hollow burning sensation remained in his shoulder.

  His breath came out in a rush and he was panting hard.

  He slumped forward in the chair, trying desperately to get his hands free from behind him. He could hear the metal clanking sounds. But it was no use. His left arm was numb again and he couldn’t get it to work at all now.

  “Are you hurt, Johnny?” she whispered the question.

  He nodded.

  “Do you feel like you want to die?”

  He shook his head as it lolled forward. “No….” he muttered. “No, I don’t…I don’t…want to…die.”

  “Then you don’t hurt enough.”

  Her voice was by his ear, he could feel her breath next to him.

  “Johnny,” she continued after a pause, letting him catch his breath. “Look at me.”

  He lifted his head and turned it to his left. His eyes stopped at his shoulder wound and watched the blood pour out of the deep, gaping hole. He glanced away quickly, his stomach turning over once more, and then continued on to her face.

  A high-pitched noise began to sound in his ears.

  “Zoe…” he tried to focus on her, but couldn’t. “Please…I…”

  She raised the knife in front of his face. She showed it to him, twisting it around so he could see both sides of the now-stained blade. He couldn’t focus on it properly. All he saw was the sun shining off sections of the bloody blade.

  “Watch,” she said.

  He focussed on the blade, trying to keep his head upright, fighting the growing urge to be sick.

  The pain in his shoulder was ebbing away, but the blood still flowed.

  “And feel...”

  She turned the blade upside down, wrapped both hands around the handle once more, and in one fluid movement ripped it down the side of his arm.

  John watched as his sleeve split open just below his shoulder wound. He heard the tearing of material. The knife cut through it easily and quickly, slicing downwards and through his elbow, continuing on and coming to a sudden rest near his wrist.

  The sleeve flipped open and he stared at the gaping cavern of flesh that stretched all the way down his left arm.

  It doesn’t make sense.

  At first there was just numbness.

  Then came the blood. It flooded upwards from inside the dark pit of his arm.

  And then the pain.

  John tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

  His head lolled forward as he watched his whole arm turn crimson red.

  And then everything went black.

  Thirty-six

  “Mr. Murdock?”

  John looked up to see the nurse standing above him.

  “Yes?” John replied.

  “She’ll see you now.”

  John slowly got to his feet and returned the magazine to the pile.

  He smiled at the nurse; a sad, tired smile.

  The nurse placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “She’s weak,” she said to him as she guided him along the corridor. “So don’t stay too long. But try to smile and reassure her everything will be okay.”

  John nodded and stared straight ahead.

  “I’ll try,” he replied.

  It had been hours since they had brought her in.

  When it had all happened, time had flown so quickly. No time to think, just acting on instinct. But when they’d arrived, he’d let go of her hand and they’d taken her away. From that moment on, time had crawled.

  And he was left alone to wait.

  All alone.

  There was nothing he could say or do.

  He just had to wait.

  Waiting while other events happened around him that he was powerless to control.

  Now the time had come. He walked down the corridor and stopped at the door.

  “Remember what I said,” the nurse reminded him. “Look happy, but don’t stay too long.”

  John nodded and turned to smile at the nurse once more, but he was alone.

  He took his hands from his pockets and walked into the ward. He tried not to look at the other patients as he walked past their beds. He didn’t want to make eye contact. He didn’t want to talk with them.

  He was there for only one thing. And one person.

  He looked towards the bed at the end of the ward. It seemed to take him so long to walk down there, as if the ward stretched on for eternity.

  And as he got closer, his heart began to race.

  He peered down at the final bed. It wasn’t until he took a few more steps closer that he realised something was wrong.

  The bed was empty.

  Empty.

  She was gone.

  He rushed to the bed, reached out and touched its cold sheets, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  He turned around and stared back up the ward. All the other patients were watching him, leaning forward in their beds and staring at him.

  He looked back to the bed one more time.

  Then he called out her name.

  No answer.

  The whole room was deadly quiet.

  And then he ran.

  He ran out the ward and down the corridor, looking for the nurse he had talked to. There were so many people out there now. He had to push through and past people as quickly as he could. The crowd was holding him back. Their arms reached out, hands grabbing at him, tearing at his clothes and face.

  He called her name again.

  “Where are you?” he yelled.

  But still no answer.

  There was movement all around him, people walking past, staring at him, talking, reaching for him, laughing, screaming, but he couldn’t hear any of them.

  All he heard in his head was a loud heartbeat.

  Ove
r and over again the sound pounded in his head.

  He called for her once more.

  And then he saw the nurse.

  John sprinted up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. The nurse turned to look at him. She smiled at John once more.

  “Where is she?” John asked.

  “Isn’t she in the ward?” the nurse looked confused.

  “No, I looked in the bed. She wasn’t there.”

  “You sure?”

  “I touched the bed, she wasn’t there. The sheets were cold.”

  The nurse smiled. “She’s downstairs then, on the first floor.”

  “The first floor?” John turned, looking for an elevator. “Okay.”

  “No, no,” the nurse reached out to grab him too. “You can’t go there.”

  “I have to!”

  “It’s out of bounds. Restricted! You can’t!”

  John struggled out of the nurse’s grip and ran to the elevator.

  He got inside and pushed the button to the first floor. The button’s sickly yellow light illuminated and the door slammed shut just as the nurse reached out for him again.

  “You can’t go –” the nurse’s voice was cut off by the doors.

  John was shaking now. He held his hands out to look at them. They looked cold and grey. He noticed for the first time the deep dark bruise marks around his wrists. He touched them gently but they hurt too much, sending pain up his arms.

  The elevator descended. As it did so, the heartbeat in his head became louder and louder.

  John placed his hands over his ears and tried to block out the sound, but he couldn’t.

  It continued as the elevator descended further.

  Down, deep down.

  Eventually, the ride bounced to a stop and the doors opened.

  John peered out into the darkness.

  “Hello?” he whispered.

  No answer.

  Slowly, he walked out of the elevator.

  “Anyone here?” he called. “Hello?”

  The doors closed behind him, cutting off all his light.

  Now he was in total darkness.

  He couldn’t see anything.

  But the heartbeat continued to pulse all around him.

  He called her name again. “Are you here?”

  He walked forward in the darkness. Even though he couldn’t see where he was going, he knew he had to go forward.

  I have to keep going forward, he thought to himself. I have to. I can’t stop.

  He walked on, trying hard to keep the heartbeat from sounding in his ears, but knowing it was futile to fight it.

  Forward. Don’t stop. Keep going.

  But going to where?

  He continued forward.

  He was sure the darkness was getting blacker, if that was possible, and the heartbeat getting louder.

  Where am I? he thought. I really should turn back.

  Something brushed against his leg. He jumped in shock and then looked down. It was too dark to see anything, but he was sure something brushed against him.

  Soft and small.

  It’s too dark. I shouldn’t be down here.

  He walked on further.

  Something else brushed up against him, higher this time. It touched his hip.

  He spun around in the darkness, trying to see what it was. But he couldn’t see anything. There was nothing there to see.

  Just before he began to panic, he saw a light shining ahead of him.

  It took a second for John to work it out, but he found himself in a long corridor and the light came from a door at the end.

  He called to her again.

  No answer.

  John turned around to look behind him.

  Darkness.

  And then his leg was touched once more.

  Panic sliced up his spine.

  He turned and sprinted for the door.

  Quickly! I have to make it!

  The faster he ran, the further the door seemed to be away from him. He ran and ran, but the door kept getting further away.

  Suddenly, pain shot through his torso. His shoulders began to ache and his left arm went limp. He looked down and found blood pumping from his chest and pouring down his legs.

  His head began to hurt badly, as if something were trying to burrow its way out from inside him. John raised his right hand up to his forehead. He was sure he could feel movement under his skull. His hand followed a large bulge as it moved across his forehead and down the left side of his head.

  “No!” John screamed as he sprinted harder to the door. “NO!”

  The door was further away than ever now. He was breathing hard and quickly losing strength. The blood continued to pour from his body. The thing in his head moved across his face, behind his left eye-socket and bulged out his cheek.

  “Help me,” he called. “Heeeeellllllp!”

  And then he was through the doorway and the bright lights were blinding him.

  He put his hands up and closed his eyes, waiting to adjust to the sudden light.

  After a few seconds, he slowly opened his eyes. He realised then all his pain was gone. His left arm was working again and the bleeding in his chest was gone.

  The creature in his head had vanished too.

  He heaved a sigh of relief.

  He was normal again.

  Only the heartbeat remained. Over and over again it pounded in his head.

  As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he could see the white coat in front of him.

  He could make out her figure.

  She was bending over some trolleys.

  He looked around him and realised he was in an operating room.

  So bright, he thought.

  But it didn’t matter now.

  “I’ve found you,” he whispered as he walked towards her.

  He grabbed her and closed his eyes, spinning her around before kissing her hard on the lips.

  The heartbeat was louder than ever now.

  He opened his eyes.

  And stared into Zoe’s.

  No!

  He pushed her away from him, and took a step backwards.

  “No!” he shouted.

  The front of the white coat Zoe was wearing was stained red and bloody. So was her face.

  She held up her right hand and smiled at John.

  “Hi, Johnny,” she said.

  “You,” he whispered. “I don’t want you here.”

  “I’m trapped here.”

  “Get out!”

  “I can’t,” she replied. “I have to go through with this now.”

  “You have to leave, now! Before anyone finds out.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to!”

  She smiled at him.

  “Watch,” she whispered to him. “And feel…”

  “No, no,” he replied. “You don’t understand. Leave before it’s too late!”

  “But I came here for this,” she said to him.

  John’s eyes moved to her right hand.

  She was holding a bloody hunk of flesh.

  It was beating.

  It was beating in time to the heartbeat he could hear in his head.

  He looked down at his chest.

  Saw the gaping hole where his heart used to be.

  Looked back at her and stared at his heart, still beating in her hands.

  He staggered backwards, trying to get away. But his legs and feet were trapped, being held by something. He looked around. Arms reached up from the floor, one pair for each of his legs. The hands held him firmly.

  He tried to turn and run, but he couldn’t.

  He looked down at the hole in his chest again. He looked at the ragged edges of skin and muscle, and at the broken bones jagging out from his rib cage.

  His eyes darted back to Zoe and watched as she moved his still beating heart to her mouth and bit off a chunk of the bloody flesh.

  She smiled at him as she chewed, blood dripping from her chin.

 
And then he screamed.

  Thirty-seven

  John woke, screaming.

  “Bad dream?”

  He looked to his left and found Zoe by his side. She smiled at him and patted his chest.

  “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” she said.

  He was lying down.

  Finally.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated on getting his breathing under control as well as removing the images from the dream out of his head.

  He could feel his heart beating.

  At least I know it’s still in there, he thought.

  Then his mind wandered back to reality. He tried to process all the events of the last three days, but there were too many and he wasn’t thinking straight. He knew just two things: he had to get away from Zoe, and he had to hunt down and kill Fox.

  But stay calm, he thought. Be on guard. Don’t push her too much. Reason with her. You know what she can be like now, how she can fly into rages. Tread softly.

  John opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the church. The wood of the rafters looked old and charred, as if they had been burnt at some stage.

  He turned his head from side to side. The pains in his neck were almost gone; only a dull stiffness remained. He looked up at the windows on both sides of the church and could see no sunlight shining through them, but it was light outside.

  Okay, so it’s only midday. That gives me some time.

  His eyes dropped down to the right as he noticed the glow.

  There was a well-built fire in the fireplace.

  Huh? In the middle of the day? It’s not even cold.

  The heat from fire was quite intense. He could feel the warmth on his face and body, and he realised then that he was sweating.

  He lifted his head to look around the church.

  But as he did so, his headache began to return. Wanting to stay clear headed, he put his head back down, willing the pains in his mind to subside.

  There was a strong almond smell in the air. He tried to work out what it was, but he couldn’t.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Turning to his left, he looked at Zoe.

  She was smiling at him, her eyes showing a mix of sorrow and concern.

  Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and John noticed that the bloodstains that had covered her were now gone. She had showered and cleaned herself up, and was wearing a white bathrobe.

  Almost as if nothing had happened.

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked.

  He nodded his head.