CHAPTER 33

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Everything hurts.

I open my eyes and there's no bright light.

My body is splayed across the footpath outside the hospital. I draw a breath and inhale dirt and dust. I cough and reflexively take a deeper breath that sets of a convulsion of coughing. I see the glaring light of early morning. The last few stars of the night sky are fading. I haul myself up into a sitting position, each movement sending shockwaves of pain through my body that resonates with the thumping in my head. I lean my head into my hands.

I look around expecting to see Niklaus, but there's nothing and nobody – just a deserted car park. I reach out to the low brick wall of a garden bed and use it to steady myself as I stand on wobbly legs. I'm overwhelmed with sudden nausea. I take a moment to recognise this feeling but it's too late – my body instinctively lurches forward and throws up bile into the garden. Ironically I think perhaps it's not so great to be human after all. Then I laugh, loudly

"I'm alive!"

I smile so widely my face hurts. I close my eyes and take a moment to enjoy every ache I'm feeling. The chill of the morning air caresses my cheeks and I smell a sweet perfume. Jasmine! I look around and see the perfect white flowers cascading over the brick wall. I lean over and sniff the petals, enjoying the sickly floral scent, mixed with a sour acidity, then look down and see the bile I just ejected. I laugh again at the wonder of the unfiltered world. The colours are brighter and the lines of the trees and buildings are clean and crisp. I look down at my clothes and the tank top that was black before is now green and my jeans are blue denim. My boots and trench coat are still black, but maybe they already were in the beginning. It was so long ago I can't remember their original colour, nor whether I stole them or Niklaus found them for me. My attention shifts from my exterior to the internal and I realise my mouth is parched and I'm surprised to find I'm ravenous. I haven't felt hungry in decades.

I wander into the hospital and head straight for the kitchen. I look through the window in the door and see the staff preparing breakfast for the hospital's patients. I move towards the double swing doors with the intention of walking through them but my body pushes them with a loud squeak. I quickly retreat, remembering I'm no longer invisible. I leave the kitchen area and head to one of the closest wards. Every ward has a pantry that stores basic food for patients between meals. I slip in and grab a can of lemonade and a sandwich from the fridge and take it to a waiting room close by. The taste of fresh bread with ham and cheese explodes in my mouth and brain. I sit back on the lounge chair and sip my lemonade after scoffing down my first meal in decades.

Now that my primary needs have been met I find myself thinking about Reeves, Matthews and even Nicole. I probably won't be seeing them again for a long time. Then I think of Margie. I've watched her age over the decades, followed her life and subsisted on her highs and lows and right now she's at a low point. I watched her try to kill Bardon to provide vigilante justice when the system failed; and saw her disappointment when she couldn't do it. Even with all the strength I know she has, she couldn't bring herself to kill someone when her life has been dedicated to saving people.

I stand and swallow the last of my fizzy drink. I wander into the empty corridor and slip into the clean utilities room. I find a 20ml syringe, a blunt drawing up needle and two ampoules of sterile water and slide them into my pocket. The ward is semi-dark and my black trench coat helps me blend into the shadows. I know where I'm going, but I keep slipping into patients' rooms to avoid nurses who are making their morning rounds.

I reach Bardon's door without being seen, twist the door handle and slip into the room. Bardon's window blinds are open and the dawn brings helpful shadows that guide me towards his bed. Bardon is asleep, looking like somebody's grandfather. Soft snores reverberate between his slightly open lips and as I lean over I see his overgrown nose hairs vibrating in rhythm with the snores. He looks older than the last time I saw him when Margie collected his blood while he was on trial. I can't help wondering how he can sleep so peacefully after all the horror he has inflicted on others.

I withdraw the syringe from my pocket and draw up 20mls of air. Barden is hooked up to fluids, I feel around for the IV port and attach the syringe. I slowly inject the line with air, then I disconnect the syringe and draw up another 20mls of air and push it into his IV line. I feel around in my pocket for the blunt needle and water. I attach the needle to the syringe and draw up all the liquid and I push it through the port. That should hide the air I've just administered, once it pushes through the line and into his body.

It's funny how I haven't forgotten my medical training, even though I haven't practised since the war. I still remember the ward sister chastising me for leaving bubbles in a syringe before administering medication to a patient. A 20ml dose of air is likely to cause disruption in Bardon's system – 40mls will ensure his demise. Especially since he's an old man with a heart condition.

I leave his room and stroll back down the corridor towards the exit doors that I've longed to walk through for many years. I can just hear the faint echo of Bardon's heart monitor shrieking as I leave the ward. Nurses push past me with apologies as they rush towards the emergency buzzer.

I walk out into the brisk morning and succumb to the pleasure of crisp air in my lungs and the crunch of gravel under my boots. I turn up my coat collar as I leave the hospital grounds. I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do – everyone I used to know thinks I'm dead. Maybe I'll find a way to retrain as a nurse, pick up where I left off.

Whatever happens I intend to make the most of this second chance at life – being Death's captive has left me with no fear of the afterlife.


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