Читать книгу Doc Mortis - Barry Hutchison - Страница 7

Chapter One THE HOSPITAL

I stood in the doorway, swaying on unsteady legs, staring down at the spot where my mum should have been.

The air around me was raw with the smell of disinfectant. It rose from every surface, thick and overpowering, as if trying to mask something too dirty to ever truly clean away.

Where I had expected to see Mum, there was someone else. This person was older than Mum. Smaller. More frail. Tubes and wires were attached to her all over, sagging limply, like the strings of a broken puppet.

Was this what Mum had looked like too? Lying there in this bed, bruised and battered from the attack by the Crowmaster? I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t dare imagine it. Things I imagined had a nasty habit of coming true.

Like Mr Mumbles, for example. Years ago, when I was four or five, he’d been my imaginary friend. Eventually I’d outgrown him, forgotten about him, moved on.

He, it turned out, hadn’t.

Just over two weeks ago he came back and tried to kill me – or rather, a twisted, mutated version of him had come back, with dirty stitches sealing his mouth shut.

I only managed to survive when I discovered that I had a... special imagination. By concentrating hard enough – by picturing something clearly in my head – I could make it happen. I’d created fire. I’d created weapons. I’d even created a large, angry dog. And possibly a flying monkey, although the jury was still out on that one.

‘She was there. She was right there.’

Ameena’s voice sounded tinny and distant; I turned to face her. It took the room a few seconds to catch up.

‘Well, she’s not here now.’

A flicker of worry passed across Ameena’s face. ‘Are you OK? You look terrible.’

‘I’m fine,’ I lied.

‘You’ve been getting worse all night.’

‘I’m fine.’

I wasn’t fine. I was far from fine. My head was full of marshmallow and my legs were solid stone. My whole body was shaking with cold, but a thin film of sweat stuck my T-shirt to my back. My eyes felt like they were boiling in their sockets, and the five scratches I had received when the Crowmaster’s claws had dug into my scalp were burning holes through my skull.

I was sick. Maybe really sick. But it wasn’t my health I was worried about.

‘We’ve got to find her,’ I said.

‘You need to sit down before you fall down,’ Ameena told me. ‘I’ll get you a doctor.’

‘I’m fine,’ I snapped, turning and staggering out of the room. ‘Don’t worry about me. Worry about Mum.’

‘Can I help you?’

I looked in the direction the voice had come from. A tall, slightly overweight man in a white coat gradually swam into focus. His face looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in days, and the stubble that grew from his chin was flecked with grey.

‘My mum,’ I said.

The doctor raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down. ‘Sorry?’

I shook my head and cleared away some of the fuzz. ‘My mum was here,’ I explained. ‘In that room. She’s not there now.’

The doctor glanced in through the open door of the room. ‘Yes?’ he said, his tone clipped and irritable.

‘So where is she?’ Ameena asked.

‘Transferred.’

I frowned. ‘Transferred where?’

The doctor glanced at his watch. ‘That’s confidential. Now, if you’ll excuse me...’

Ameena stepped in front of him before I could. ‘He’s her son,’ she said, jabbing a thumb in my direction. ‘And I’m the one who brought her in. You can tell us where she is.’

The doctor folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on his heels. ‘The family has already been notified,’ he said, looking me up and down for the second time. ‘So, if you really are who you say you are, I suggest you check with them.’

Ameena didn’t move. She just stood there, blocking his way and giving him the evil eye.

‘Should I call security?’ he asked impatiently.

For a few long moments Ameena remained defiantly rooted to the spot. Then, although she didn’t step away, her shoulders slumped and she broke eye contact with the man in the white coat.

Keeping his arms folded, the doctor side-stepped her and carried on along the corridor. He didn’t even glance in my direction when he passed.

‘Family?’ Ameena asked as we watched him go. ‘What family?’

I laid a hand against the corridor wall, steadying myself. The paintwork was pleasantly cool to the touch, and I realised my insides felt like they were boiling. I’d gone from freezing in the cold to almost choking in the heat. I wanted to press my head against the wall and smother the fires that were burning there, but I didn’t. That would’ve taken time, and I was beginning to feel that time wasn’t something I had a lot left of. Besides, I’d have looked mental.

‘Nan,’ I croaked, letting go of the wall and forcing myself to stand up straight. ‘We have to go see Nan.’

I’d only been to the nursing home a couple of times since Nan had gone to live there, but I knew more or less where it was. We’d caught the bus. Ameena had paid for the tickets using money she got from who-knew-where, and then had half led, half dragged me to a seat somewhere near the back.

The journey went quickly, helped by the fact that I kept falling asleep. Every time I did I’d be greeted by a vision of the Crowmaster, or one of the enormous flesh-eating birds he’d sent after me.

Mum had sent me to stay with her cousin Marion for a few weeks, hoping it would help me escape from the horrors I’d encountered recently. I’d agreed because I thought it would keep her safe. I thought it would help keep everyone safe.

It didn’t.

As she left the train station, Mum had been attacked and almost murdered by the Crowmaster. I later found out he was Marion’s imaginary friend from long ago, but I didn’t find out in time to save Marion. She was dead. For all I knew, Mum might be too. I thought I could protect them all.

I couldn’t.

Ameena had nudged me awake as the bus rattled to a stop. I’d told her where we needed to get off as soon as we’d taken our seat, knowing full well I’d sleep through most of the journey.

As we stepped down from the bus the evening wind rushed to meet us. Its icy fingers snaked and probed through my dirty clothes, but my skin was so hot I barely felt their touch.

With a low rumble and a whiff of burning diesel, the bus rolled away, leaving Ameena holding on to me on a deserted residential street. A row of neatly kept bungalows stood on either side of the road. It was only early evening, but already lights were on in most of the windows, preparing for the long, dark night ahead.

‘Where to now?’ Ameena asked. Her voice was right by my ear. I could see one of her hands holding me under the arm, but I couldn’t feel it.

‘Thish way,’ I slurred, staggering onward a few steps. Ameena took my weight, probably stopping me falling. Good old Ameena. I’d only known her for a couple of weeks, but I had no idea how I’d cope without her.

‘Did you just call me “Good old Ameena”?’ she asked.

I focused my eyes somewhere in her general direction. ‘Did I say that out loud?’

‘Yes. “Good old Ameena”,’ she repeated. ‘What am I? A faithful pet dog?’

I arranged my face into something I hoped might pass for a smile. ‘Trusty sidekick, remember?’

We were moving again, shambling slowly along the pavement in the direction of the nursing home. With every step I seemed to sink further and further into the pavement.

‘Yeah, well this trusty sidekick thinks you need to sit down,’ she said, steering me towards a low garden wall.

‘No!’ I snapped, with more venom than I intended. I yanked my arm away and immediately wished I hadn’t. The sky seemed to slide sideways away from me, even as the ground raced up to meet my face.

This time I did feel Ameena’s hands. They caught me round the waist and chest. She couldn’t stop me hitting the ground, but she slowed me enough that it didn’t hurt too badly.

‘Good old Ameena,’ I mumbled, letting my head rest against the rough stone of the pavement.

She rolled her eyes, but flashed me a brief smile. ‘Woof. Woof.’

‘Help me up,’ I said.

‘Don’t you think you should wait a minute? You need to get your breath back.’ She looked me over. ‘Well, what you probably need is a blood transfusion, but a bit of a sit-down is going to have to do.’

‘No time,’ I told her, struggling to push myself up from the pavement. Try as I might, neither it nor I appeared to move. ‘Need to find Mum. Nan will know.’

‘What if your nan’s not there?’ Ameena asked. ‘You think of that? You’re killing yourself to get there, and she’s probably at the hospital already.’

‘They don’t like her being out at night,’ I said. I heard my own voice trail off and realised my eyes were closing. I forced them wide open. ‘And the doctor said they’d informed the family.’

Ameena shook her head, not understanding what I meant. ‘So?’

‘So if they had to inform her, that means they moved Mum when Nan wasn’t there. Only place she’d be is the home.’

‘Maybe, but—’

‘Ameena,’ I said, and the mention of her name cut her short. ‘Please. Help me up.’ She hesitated, still holding on to me, even though I had nowhere else to fall. ‘Please,’ I whispered.

With a sigh, she adjusted her grip and braced her legs. ‘Fine,’ she said, ‘but if you die before we get there, don’t go blaming me.’

Some time passed. I don’t know how much. The sky grew darker and the well-kept bungalows became badly neglected blocks of flats. Ameena was doing almost all of my walking for me now. Was I even moving my legs? I couldn’t say for sure. Fire burned in my head and in my throat and in my chest, while pain ravaged my brain and through my bones.

And through it all I could feel the itch on my scalp, where the Crowmaster’s claws had broken the skin. It was growing worse, and I knew that whatever he had done to me was responsible for the way I was feeling now. I thought I’d beaten him, but maybe he’d have the last laugh after all.

‘Dead yet?’ asked Ameena, not for the first time.

‘No.’

‘Good stuff. How much further?’

‘Not far,’ I told her, hoping this was the truth. The buildings looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t really be sure how close the nursing home was.

‘Thank God, you weigh a tonne,’ she said. ‘And you’re sweating like a Mexican wrestler.’

I turned my head to attempt an apologetic smile, and that was when I heard it.

‘What was that?’ I frowned.

Ameena stopped, and by default I stopped too. ‘What was what?’

I listened for a moment, and heard the sound again.

‘There,’ I said.

‘Where?’

‘Can’t you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’

‘That whispering,’ I said, whispering myself now.

Ameena tilted her head to one side and listened. ‘Just the wind,’ she said.

I shook my head. It wasn’t the wind. ‘I heard something. A voice. It was a voice.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Don’t know, didn’t hear properly.’

‘I didn’t hear a thing.’

‘Shut up, sssh,’ I urged.

Amazingly, rather than punch me in the face for speaking to her like that, she did shut up. We stood in silence, both of us listening for any unusual sound, but the whispers didn’t come again.

‘Maybe you imagined it,’ Ameena said.

I let her take my weight again. ‘Let’s hope not,’ I said, and together we staggered onwards into the darkness that loomed ahead.