The White Witch by Rory B. Byrne

Author:Rory B. Byrne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-14T14:25:41+00:00

“Simon?” the voice said.

It was male, close to his ear. Somehow, Simon found his way to consciousness again. He followed the voice to the surface and opened his eyes.

“Simon, can you hear me?”

Simon looked at the speaker. A man almost eight years his senior, had a hulking stature that took up a lot of view before Simon’s eyes. Brian MacIomhair traced his Scottish heritage back to the Viking and Germanic invasion of Scotland. He was a businessman who didn’t have a lot of time for friendship. It made their relationship easier for Simon because he didn’t have to worry about how the gentleman felt personally about Simon. He had hired Simon for his experience, not his personality.

Simon moved to talk but found it challenging. His body began waking up, including the patches of memory that had happened sometime before he awoke in a hospital bed with Brian hovering over him.

“Where am I?” he whispered. He had to speak softly through what felt like shards of glass in his throat.

“You’re in Edinburgh. You’ve been here for nine days,” Brian said.

“Nine days,” Simon repeated. His brain kicked around ideas and images. The fog of medication filled most of the space between his ears. He felt constricted. He remembered—

“The girl,” he whispered. Brian sat up, nodding. “The girl, what happened? Where is she?”

“We’ve got her friend. She’s a fiery American bitch,” Brian said. “Her boyfriend got arrested by Police Service on possession charges of hashish. So far, Simon, you’re our best witness. Our CCTV footage failed. We had a catastrophic power failure. We lost all the data within the chamber. Anything that hadn’t been backed up that night on the external servers got lost during the surge.”

Brian stared at Simon. There was more he held back than he said. Simon knew the man for over ten years. He knew Brian had a low threshold for waiting. Yet, something in the way his employer stared at him made the man hold back.

Simon tried to sit up farther, but they had restrained him in place. Wedged against the thin mattress and the slight pillow under his head, Simon cleared his throat. He wanted water, but Brian wasn’t a friend, he was an employer.

“Do you remember what happened?” Brian asked, his voice low because Simon knew they weren’t alone in the hospital room.

Memories were important. They made up the whole person. Without memories, Simon didn’t have a career. Everything he’d learned throughout his forty-seven years wasn’t worth anything if he wasn’t able to recall important pieces. Still, he remembered the girl’s face. The way she looked at him with her dark honey eyes and the chestnut-colored choppy hair. There was a look on her frightened angular face that made Simon think she seemed extremely familiar.

“The girl,” Simon said.

“Yes,” Brian said. He leaned over Simon. His hands on the bed rail, his breath washed over Simon’s face; he smelled like coffee and cigarettes. “We know about the other girl, Simon. What happened to her? Did it happen

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