The Dark Trials: A Supernatural Thriller by T. James Kelly

Author:T. James Kelly [Kelly, T. James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Invictus Booksellers, LLC
Published: 2021-01-25T06:00:00+00:00

17

Slow, high-pitched beeps came from somewhere.

Am I in Em’s hospital room?

My eyelids felt superglued shut. A dull, orange light flickered like fire somewhere beyond them.

Beep.

Fuzzy memories that felt more like dreams materialized in my mind. Adam, a motorcycle, a giant crow, a rush of wind, stars…

Beep.

But if I’m in Em’s hospital room…

Beep.

“Miss Church,” a muted, deep voice said in the distance. “Hannah, are you with us?”

Was it all a dream? Had I sold my soul? Does Em have cancer?

“Hannah,” said the deep voice.

Bright light burst through my eyelids when I forced them open, blinking. A long, florescent light buzzed above me. Dated floral wallpaper covered the walls. The beeping noises came from a machine near my head. I was back in Em’s room.

I was in Em’s bed.

Where’s Em?

I tried to speak, but my mouth felt full of cotton. I groaned and tried to move. Sharp pain knifed my shoulder and I cried out.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Hannah,” said the deep voice. “You scared us for a little while, there.” Doctor Washington materialized over me, blocking out the bright light above.

Gingerly, I tried to shift again, but my entire body felt like a bag full of bricks, and even the slightest movement sent shockwaves of pain roaring through me. “What… happened?”

He grinned for a moment, then furrowed his dark brow. “You were in a motorcycle accident. Someone traveling north saw a motorcycle spin out of control in the south bound lane and called an ambulance. I was terrified to find it was you on the back of that bike, what with everything we’ve gone through with your sister.”

My heart sank. It wasn’t all a dream after all.

“Where’s Em?”

“She’s still on the third floor, right where you left her yesterday,” Doctor Washington replied. “She’s still finding her strength and has a few more days of monitoring to go.”

“How’s her memory?”

Doctor Washington’s eyes softened; his lips tightened. He shook his head.

I tried to sit up, but that was a mistake. I winced as pain screamed through my right shoulder and down my arm. That’s when I noticed the white cast strapped to my shoulder that ran down the length of my upper arm to the elbow. My forearm rested in a sling across my ribs.

“Take it easy, Hannah,” Doctor Washington said too late. I sunk back down into the bed with a groan. “You’ve got a humerus fracture, and you tore your rotator cuff.”

“What’s so humorous about it?”

Doctor Washington laughed. “That one never gets old, kid. Means you broke your shoulder. It’s not too bad of a break and should heal on its own without surgery. But you need to be careful not to move it. And by the way, you’re very lucky that your shoulder is all that’s broken. At least you were wearing a helmet. Things could’ve been much worse for you.”

Holes in my memory filled themselves in bits and pieces. Fuzzy images of speeding down the mountain and onto the highway. A murder of crows becoming one, massive crow, its huge, flapping wings blowing us over.

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