The Superhero's Murder by James Damm

Author:James Damm [Damm, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2021-06-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Juliet’s head stirred as her vision returned. Flat on her back above the covers on a bed. Somebody had removed her shoes. Curtains drawn. Dark. A person was watching the news with his back to her. A hotel room? Hers? The screen displayed a simple headline: SUSPECT IN CUSTODY. A chair for show, uncomfortable and brought close to the screen. Soldiers, noise, the crush of a crowd. Darkness. The screen read a simple headline; Suspect in custody. Tom in the chair.

When Juliet next awoke her head was clearer, and the darkness had lifted. A wide window to the side had by this point illuminated the room somewhat. Rather than a hotel, she was in a hospital and judging by the faint granite sheen over the outside world, she gathered the day was just about breaking. Five or six in the morning was her best guess.

Agony swept through her body as soon as Juliet dared to lean forward. Her chest tightly bandaged, she guessed she’d broken a rib or two. Letting a hand slide over her body, Juliet found her head similarly wrapped and a cast on her right arm. Left eye swollen, lips dry and cracked, Juliet was a hell of a state. Without a mobile phone or screen in reach, she felt useless and limp where she lay.

In immense pain, Juliet hauled herself to her feet and staggered away from the bed. There was no private room, and in her open ward the other five patients looked fast asleep. Yet as she manoeuvred her way out of the main door, a startled Tom jumped to his feet. In a chair outside, he’d been snoozing.

“What are you doing up?” he half-yelled before stifling his voice. “You should be in bed.”

“My legs work just fine,” Juliet sneered. “We’re going for a coffee.”

Knowing the battle probably wasn’t worth happening, Tom acquiesced as Juliet dragged herself down the empty corridors. Her estimation of five in the morning proved correct. The odd nurse on night duty wandered the halls, but they had the place to themselves aside from that.

“So what happened?” Juliet said, breaching the subject. “I heard a bomb.”

“No bomb,” replied Tom as he ambled by her side. “Someone left a bag unattended. A member of the public swore blind they saw wires. Everybody was tense, on alert and in a panic. Emotions running that high. It was foolish to have something so public and so soon. One soldier with a gun misfired his weapon at nobody and in error, and the whole circus exploded. Crushes, trampling as everyone tried to escape what turned out to be a figment of their imagination. Eighty injured ranging from severe to critical conditions, luckily no dead. It was madness.”

Eighty injured over nothing. Juliet had no words. Earlier she had wanted to joke about her bandages and cast, but not now. Remembrance of the weight, the rushing feet over her body and the sensation of air being trampled out her lungs remained. Pure isolated luck left her alive.

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