SCREAM - THE GHOST OF LONDON

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Charlie sat on the front step of the house, hunched over slightly as he stared blankly at the chaotic scene in front of him. The area was swarmed with police cars and ambulances, their red and blue lights flashing in an endless, blinding cycle. The rhythmic pulse of the lights seemed to match the pounding in his head. He felt detached, numb to the noise and activity around him, the adrenaline slowly draining from his body. His shirt had been lifted and roughly patched where the knife had torn into his stomach, but the pain was a distant throb, muted by the whirlwind of emotions.

He glanced to his right and saw Kit standing a few feet away, talking to a police officer. Kit's face was serious, his eyes flicking over to Charlie every now and then with a mix of concern and relief. Across the way, Paris was sitting in the back of a police car, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She stared down at her hands, her face pale and blank, as if she was trying to process the nightmare they'd just lived through.

Charlie let out a shaky breath and turned his gaze back to the ground, the images of what had just happened replaying in his mind like a twisted movie. The weight of everything settled heavily on his shoulders, but for the first time, there was a sliver of hope. They had survived, again.

He heard the soft crunch of gravel and looked up to see Doctor Dengate walking toward him. The doctor moved slowly, his face lined with exhaustion but still carrying that composed expression. He stopped in front of Charlie and crouched down to his level, searching his eyes.

"Are you going to be okay?" Doctor Dengate asked gently, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the commotion.

Charlie held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod. He mustered a soft, tired smile. "I will be, eventually," he replied, his voice hoarse and strained.

Doctor Dengate studied him for a moment longer before nodding, a hint of a smile appearing on his own lips. "That's all we can hope for," he said quietly, placing a reassuring hand on Charlie's shoulder.

Charlie looked back out at the scene around them, the flashing lights reflecting in his eyes. He knew it would take time to heal from this, physically and mentally. But sitting there, amidst the chaos, he felt a small spark of determination. For now, he was alive, and that was enough.