The Broken II: Tainted Trail

by A. L. Frances

“Nothing, just a pain in my head.”

  “You sure?”

  Looking to Eve, Lewis replies, “Yeah, baby, it’s nothing.”

  Putting out his arms, Lewis cuddles into her.

  Stroking his head, Eve says, “I feel like you have something on your mind, Lew.”

  The words are on the tip of his tongue, but Lewis doesn’t want Eve to think he’s some sort of wimp or psycho by telling her the strange goings on inside his head at the minute. And yet, he feels as though he needs to share what’s happening with someone, and Eve being the only one around, he bites the bullet. “Okay, so I have a question.”

  “Go on, then, what is it?”

  “So… You won’t judge me, baby?”

  “I won’t, you can trust me. Spit it out.”

  “Have you ever had like, a nightmare that’s felt proper real? Like it’s true life happening rather than in your head?” Getting slightly frustrated as he knows it sound ridiculous, he says, “Ah, it’s hard to explain, you know what I mean. It’s like you’re proper living in a real-life horror story.” He pauses but without giving Eve time to respond, he continues, “Right, like – you know, like the horror movies, innit? Well, they always have it where some psycho is chasing after you, yeah, but it feels proper real. You know what I mean?”

  Eve remains silent for a while, her head resting on his. Finally she says, “In answer to your question, yes I have.”

  Lewis is shocked. He was expecting her to call him crazy. “Really?!”

  “Yes.”

  Becoming intrigued, Lewis lifts his head and shuffles round so that he’s facing her. Happy that someone else has experienced this, he continues to quiz her. “So, erm, what do you think it means? Like, does it even mean anything? You know what I mean – is it like depending on what you dream about and who, or not?”

  In a gentle and confident tone, she replies, “You embrace it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Exactly what I just said. You embrace it. When I embraced my beautiful nightmare, I became free to be the real me. The fate that had been aligned for my path – I now get to live it every day. I get to live my purpose because I embrace all that I am, including my beautiful nightmares.”

  “What do you mean ‘embrace it’?”

  “Okay, so next time you have one, submit yourself.” Lewis stares at her, still confused. Eve clarifies: “When it happens again, just say the words ‘I surrender my soul’. Then what will happen is all reality just goes away and you’ll feel amazing. Try it. What have you got to lose? It’s just a dream.”

  Curious and apprehensive, but swayed by Eve’s confidence, Lewis says, “Alright, sweet then, next time I’ll say that.”

  “Right, come here now, I need a cuddle.”

  As Lewis places his head back onto Eve’s chest, she smiles deceitfully. Her eyes light up with an air of secrecy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Secrets to the Grave

  It’s just past two in the afternoon and Wythenshawe Hospital is crowded. In ward seven, where Alice and baby Hope are staying, the phones are ringing off the hook and people are rushing around everywhere. Medical staff are walking briskly up and down the corridor or standing at patients’ bedsides reviewing observation charts and test results, all of them trying to do their jobs to the best of their ability in this busy environment.

  It’s the height of visiting hour and that means one thing: utter bedlam. The continual wave of overly concerned relatives is one of the worst parts about working in any hospital. Assuming their loved one is the only person who requires actual care, visitors are, for the most part, more trouble to have on the ward than the patients themselves. They constantly create issues and incessantly moan.

  All staff, whether support staff, nurses or doctors, are in the firing line. Anyone wearing a hospital uniform is in line for an earful.

  “Excuse me – excuse me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, erm, my mother has been left all day without having her bed changed or even asked if she wants food and water.”

  “I don’t think that’s actually true now is it.”

  “How fucking dare you? Are you saying my mother’s a liar?”

  “Can I just refer you to the sign.” The member of the hospital team points to the sign above her head which reads, “Abusive behaviour against any member of staff will not be tolerated and will result in you being asked to leave”.

  Relenting slightly, the angry daughter says, “Fine, sorry for my language, but can you blame me when my mother’s telling me she’s dying in there because of your lack of care.”

  “Your mother’s Mrs Blinky, yes?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So that would make you Dawn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dawn – your mother has been showing signs of dementia. I can assure you she has been well cared for all day by myself and my staff members. I can show you the sheets if you like, everything is logged.”

  “Dementia. How, erm, what, erm, I…” Dawn walks away from the desk muttering, “I need to be with my mother right now.”

  Yet more fretful relatives arrive, rushing to get to their poorly family member’s designated bedside. Their hands are filled with a variety of different coloured balloons, treats, flowers, cosy pyjamas and other nice gifts, which they balance awkwardly while attempting to watch where they’re walking.

  “Georgie can you move, please.”

  “Mummy, where’s Aunty Valarie?”

  “That way, Georgie. Will you just watch where you’re going? Follow your brother.”

  Ward seven is one of the busiest wards in the hospital. Each of the rooms and communal hospital bays are now at maximum capacity. Adults stand like giants and hover around the bedsides, while mischievous youngsters who are not being watched conspire with one another and swing around the place, pressing buttons they shouldn’t be and generally making nuisances of themselves. The atmosphere is chaotic.

  Thankfully, having been listed as a high-risk priority, Alice and baby Hope are safe from the fast-paced fuss taking place on the ward. They have been assigned to a private room. Room seven isn’t particularly big, but it’s cosy and even has an en-suite bathroom. Alice is being shielded for good reason. She remains in a critical state and is not doing well. Feeble, drained, and having temporarily lost the use of her legs, Alice is confined to her hospital bed. Whatever is attacking her internal system is leaving her too weak to function. Her brain has gone into protection mode and is shutting down the movements of her physical body in a desperate bid to save her internal organs from any potential lasting damage. This mental shut down has restricted Alice dramatically.

  Alice is attached to multiple monitors, which bleep continuously as they calculate her vital signs. Her heartrate and pulse are stable but slow. Her temperature and blood pressure, however, are quite the opposite. They’re unexplainably rocketing, and then dramatically depleting, which in turn is causing Alice to become extremely delirious.

  During the night, Alice inexplicably took a turn for the worse. The doctors managed to revive her and are keeping her stable by pumping drugs of all kinds into her system, but without a diagnosis or any idea as to why this has happened, each doctor and consultant that has assessed Alice has been left scratching their head with confusion. Greatly concerned about their patient’s health, they have conducted test after test but still have no explanation for Alice’s potentially life-threatening condition. They are keeping her alive and as pain free as possible, but they’re nervous about the possibility of Alice dying in their care. For that reason, Alice has been placed on thirty-minute observational checks.

  Not only do the nurses and doctors have to facilitate Alice’s needs, they also have a new challenge to contend with as baby Hope is refusing to settle. The poorly little girl is crying relentlessly and has been for the past six ho
urs.

  In an effort to work out what is causing Alice’s condition, the consultants have sent blood and urine samples and mouth swabs to the lab for testing. And from what little information has been fed back up to the ward from the technicians, it’s clear to see that something isn’t at all right, but no one has a clue what it is, so finding a cure is proving impossible.

  Downstairs in the laboratories in the basement of the hospital, a sign saying “Private and Confidential – Testing in Progress” has been placed upon one of the white doors. Inside, the room is extremely bright. Machines of all kinds are everywhere and are analysing various pots and samples with white labels on them. Standing in their white coats and wearing blue latex gloves, are Zander, Jack and Emily. These three, highly qualified, medical scientists have been assigned the challenge of working out what is attacking Alice and Hope’s bodies.

  Zander and Emily are peering through their microscopes. Zander has Alice’s blood specimen and Emily has Hope’s. Standing by the interior window, Jack is preparing to examine Alice’s DNA, slowly wiping the contents of her mouth swab onto the testing glass.

  “Jack, can you come here please and check this out?” says Zander, sounding concerned.

  Casually making his way to Zander, Jack says, “Sure.”

  After peering through the high resolution microscope, Jack looks up at Zander with a confused expression upon his face. Wiping his eyes to ensure he’s not seeing things, Jack puts his eye back to the lens. It’s clear to see that these highly trained scientists are both witnessing the same thing. Something illogical is happening. The unidentified element in Alice’s body is attacking her blood cells. And, almost instantly, her cells are becoming weak. As Jack watches, the unknown substance is capturing Alice’s DNA. No sooner has contact been made, her cells surrender as they shrivel and die. Baffled as this defies the certainties of science, Jack looks to Zander and says, “What the…”

  “I know, right, what is that?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Gazing back into the microscope and fiddling with the focus, Jack continues, “They’re just dying.”

  Standing at her workstation, Emily pulls back from her lens. “You guys, erm, you might want to take a look at this.”

  Zander makes his way across and takes a look. Without needing to focus the lens, he instantly gasps and steps back, “What on earth is that? Jack, you have to take a look into this one.”

  Already scratching his head and highly concerned, Jack makes his way across to Hope’s blood specimen. This time, he too doesn’t need to fiddle with the focus, he sees something is wrong. Unlike in Alice’s sample, here the unidentified element is wrapping itself around Hope’s DNA and multiplying at a rapid rate, becoming stronger and fiercer by the millisecond. Not only this, the substance is changing tone.

  Looking to both Zander and Jack, Emily says, “What are we going to do? This can’t be real, right? This is like some supernatural voodoo stuff. It’s not real science, right? We’re just seeing things.”

  Attempting to process what he’s witnessing, looking more perplexed with every tick and tock of the clock, Jack says, “We need to get the higher ranks in to have a look at this. This is beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

  Jack makes his way to the phone, but just as he pick it up, the room goes dark. A horrific screech penetrates their eardrums and an unknown force throws each of them across the room. Landing on the ground, Zander, Jack and Emily curl up into balls. They all cry out in pain at the noise circulating inside their minds. The energy within the room has changed. Unaided, the door locks. A vibrational shift takes place. There is a sudden loud crash as the glass from the interior windows and the machines smashes, hitting Zander, Jack and Emily.

  Terrified, Emily screams. A huge shard of glass travels toward her at rapid speed and lands at the back of her throat. Instantly, the sharp shard slices through her carotid artery. Her neck pulsates and blood gushes from her mouth and travels down her chin. Her eyes wide open, Emily lies on the floor choking to her death.

  Both Zander and Jack are completely unaware of Emily’s critical state. It’s too dark inside the room. Zander can hear the gasps of someone trying to take in oxygen. Frightened and not wanting to draw attention to his whereabouts in the room, Zander whispers shakily, “Jack, Emily?”

  No sooner have the words left his mouth, one of the lights begins to flicker. Appearing from nowhere is a horrific vision of a teenage girl. Her jet-black hair is draped on either side of her face and her skin is grey and cracked. A sinister black liquid oozes from the cracks in her skin as she stares at Zander and Jack through the flickering light with her jet-black eyes. She slowly makes her way towards the crippled professionals on the floor. Everywhere she steps she leaves a smear of the thick black substance.

  Struggling to breathe, Jack drags himself across the floor to where Zander sits. Reaching out to help his friend, Zander grabs Jack’s arm and pulls him closer. Looking across to the shadowy girl, Zander shouts, “What do you want?”

  No response. The dark figure stares at the two frightened individuals.

  “Zander, oh my God, it’s going to kill us.” Crying, Jack tucks himself into Zander’s arm, “I don’t want to die.”

  In excruciating pain, Zander feels as if every bone in his body has been broken. Not giving up, Zander bravely speaks once more, “Please don’t hurt us. Look, what do you want? Maybe we can help you.”

  She takes one step closer to Jack and Zander. As she opens her mouth to speak, the black substance gushes down her chin. “The time will arrive, soon you will see, this world was never yours to keep.”

  She raises her head slightly and twitches it to one side. Almost instantly, Zander and Jack hold their hands around their throats. Their airways are being restricted.

  “Temimi!” she shouts.

  She twitches her head once more and a scalpel flies across the room at great force, cutting Jack and embedding deep into his eye. Another head twitch and a filing cabinet speeds across the room towards Zander. The heavy metal structure hits him in the head and crushes his skull.

  All three of them now lie lifeless.

  Content, the shadowy girl makes her way across the room and uses the black substance to smear across the wall the word “MUORI”. Taking the DNA samples, she disappears.

  She has completed her task. Their secret has been taken to the grave.

  Visiting time is still in full swing when Dorothy arrives at her daughter’s private hospital room. She is keen to assist with the care of Alice and baby Hope. Due to the current high demand and shortness of staff, the nurses reluctantly, and temporarily, hand baby Hope over to Dorothy. This familiar face just might help to calm her. She is doing everything in her power in an attempt to care for baby Hope, but Dorothy is also not having much luck. Nothing is soothing this baby girl. Whatever it is that’s upsetting Hope, it is leaving her inconsolable. It has gotten so bad, she won’t accept cuddles, take her bottle or even keep her dummy in her mouth, which is normally the secret weapon.

  Resembling a medicated zombie, Alice is lying completely still. The only part of her which is moving are her eyes. Gently blinking, every now and then, she glances across to her mum.

  Singing a sweet melody, nannie Dorothy is desperately trying to make her precious granddaughter feel better, walking up and down the room in a rhythmic fashion. Dorothy is pulling out all her nannie special talents to help calm baby Hope but still, nothing is working. With no response, and at a loss as to what to do next, Dorothy looks to Alice and says, “I think we should call for the doctor. Nothing’s working, my dear.”

  As her granddaughter’s screams get louder and Alice remains unresponsive, Dorothy ventures across the room and takes a closer look at her daughter. The reality of Alice’s current physical state is devastating. This isn’t the image Dorothy was expecting. Just yesterday, Alice was full of life and wearing
her usual radiant smile. Well, she isn’t anymore. Trying to fight back the tears at the sight of her daughter’s rapid deterioration, Dorothy’s struggling to hold it together. It’s breaking her heart to see her precious one and only daughter looking so lifeless. Kneeling at the side of Alice’s bed, Dorothy says, “Alice, my dear, can you hear me?”

  Alice is staring out the window. Her eyes gradually turn towards her mum. Her expression blank, Alice blinks and still, she says nothing. Filling up with tears once more, Dorothy is in denial and doesn’t want to process this image. Her Alice, her baby girl, her princess, her bright smiling precious daughter is no longer there. Feeling an element of rejection, and not wishing to accept her daughter’s state as it’s too painful, Dorothy holds Alice’s hand and says, “Let us pray.”

  Closing her eyes, almost instantly Dorothy sees an image of Alice when she was a young girl, wearing a dark green and black chequered dress with a black collar and puffy short sleeves. Along with this traditional nineteen eighties little girl look, Alice’s hair is resting neatly upon her shoulders. In this snapshot image, young Alice has just turned six years of age and is in her bedroom playing. Fiddling with her brand-new doll set on the floor, she’s happily singing away to herself. Little Alice is embracing her imagination and remains oblivious to the fact that her mum is standing in the doorway watching her play.

  In this vision, Dorothy rests her head on the doorframe and stares at her daughter with sheer admiration, love and feeling nothing but strength. Smiling at young Alice’s innocence, and overwhelmed with relief, she wipes the single tear from her cheek. This tear which has fallen from her blackened eye. This memory is of the special kind. It’s a memory she will never forget. This day was the day she allowed courage to take over. On this day she left her abusive husband, Alice’s father, and became free. Her first day as a single mother and not a punching bag. And, my goodness, was she happy about it.

  Back in the hospital room, with her eyes still closed, as the memory fades Dorothy hears the screams of baby Hope in her arms. Opening her eyes, she looks to Alice and sees that not so much as a flicker has taken place. Looking to her granddaughter, who is screaming at the top of her voice, Dorothy notices there are no tears falling from her eyes. Aware that she is powerless to help, she makes her way across the room and wraps baby Hope inside multiple blankets using what she calls the sausage roll technique. Dorothy then places Hope inside the hospital cot. She’s under no illusion. She knows there’s nothing she can do to help Hope. And right now, all she truly desires to do is hold Alice.