Blink by K. L. Slater

Author:K. L. Slater [Slater, K. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Suspense, Mystery & Detective, General, Psychological
ISBN: 9781786811288
Google: B-6nDQAAQBAJ
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2017-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

38

Present Day

Queen’s Medical Centre

The room appears quiet and perfectly still, but something in the air has changed. Whoever the person was who very quietly opened and closed the door, they’re still in here. I can sense their presence.

There’s a long beat of silence, during which the walls seem to press closer to my face. It feels harder to breathe. If I had to breathe of my own accord, that is.

When it comes, her voice sounds coarser than I remembered.

‘I heard about what happened to you but I had to see it for myself before I could really believe it.’

I hear her pad forward from the door a few steps. It’s almost inaudible, but I am instantly alert to the faintest muted rustle of soft soles on a hard floor. My ears have sharpened. It’s as if my body is trying to make up for the fact that almost all other bodily functions have been rendered useless by the stroke, or whatever condition since then has paralysed me.

I catch a whisper of breath and that tells me she has moved a little closer to my bed. But I still can’t see her.

‘What happened to Evie, it’s your fault.’ Her voice sounds fairly level but there is a wobble behind it, a sort of worrying unevenness.

It’s true. It’s my fault Evie was taken. I don’t need her to tell me that. Of all people, she is far from blameless. I should never have listened to her poisoned words.

My heartbeat wallops against my chest wall and, worse than that, I can feel nausea rising in my chest. If I bring back my liquid food, I could choke to death before the nurses even get here.

I hear the soft rustle again. She’s on the move but sticking close to the walls, staying purposely out of my view.

With her last step, she comes into focus.

A vague shape of unidentifiable colours, over on my right hand side. She stands adjacent to my head but well back.

If only I could swivel my eyes, just slightly to the right . . .

‘They say you can’t move, not even a millimetre,’ she says. ‘They say it’s not known whether you can see or hear, but I’ve got some things I want to say to you all the same.’ She shuffles slightly. ‘I’ve got something I want to show you, too.’

I don’t like the way she says that.

I start to shake my head violently from side to side, and stretch the fingers of my left hand until it hurts, stretching towards the emergency button that hangs on a thick cord, just centimetres away.

I shout and yell for the nurse to come and help me, to make her go away.

But of course, in the real world, I remain completely still and unresponsive.

Now she has stopped speaking, there is only the ticking of the clock, the rasp of the respirator and the thick, cloying air that settles on the surface of my skin like a toxic sheen.

I wonder how she got past the nurses.

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