Lockdown

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

26/09/2019. 10:02 hours. St Mary’s Hospital, California.

 

David twitched, a small snore leaving his throat. He dozed off minutes after Spencer fell asleep. He moaned softly at the sound of rapid beeping. The beeping continued, breaking through the haze, followed swiftly by a choked cry. David sat up with a start from his slouched position in the chair, dark eyes wide and alert. Spencer was writhing in the bed, blankets twisted around him. His face was contorted in a tortured grimace of agony.

“Please... No...  Don’t...” A small whimper left Spencer’s quivering lips. David reached for the fingers tightly clasping the blankets.

“Spencer? It’s okay. You’re safe.” Spencer’s head wrenched to the side, veins protruding in his neck. His face scrunched in anguish, eyes squeezed tight shut and brow furrowed.

“Please... Stop... I don’t want it...” David gently brushed the hair away from Spencer’s sweat-beaded forehead.

“It’s okay, kiddo. I’m right here. You’re safe.” Spencer let out a broken sob. A tear crept out of the corner of his eye, trickling over his nose, and dripping onto the pillow. His breath shuddered as he peeled his eyes open to find himself in the hospital. David ran the pad of his thumb back and forth across Spencer’s cheekbone to soothe him. Spencer reached a hand over to David’s, pressing his palm down to his face to ground himself, remind himself that David was real.

“Dave?”

“Yeah, kid. I’m here.”

“Thank you... Thank you.”

“It’s okay. You want to talk about it?” Spencer shook his head and gripped David’s hand tighter.

“No. I can’t.”

“You’re going to have to soon. You know you’re going to have to give a statement. If we want justice for what happened in there, we need it from you. Trust me, there’s nothing we want more than to bring those sons of bitches to justice.”

“I know. Just, it’s too raw right now. It’s too real.”

“But that’s when it’s best to talk about it. When it’s fresh in your mind.” Spencer gave an uncertain nod.

“C-can you be the one to take it? I feel safe talking to you.” David gave a proud smile.

“Of course, Spence. Why don’t I record it and then you don’t have to repeat it?” Spencer offered David a small smile and shuffled himself up into a seated position on the bed. He took in a deep, shaking breath as David began the voice recorder on his cell phone, and began his story.

The minutes felt like hours before Spencer finished describing every horrific instance that occurred whilst he was in the prison. He discussed in graphic detail being handcuffed and gagged, his legs being bound, the three rapes, the seizure. He recounted the blur between the seizure and waking up in a cell. The brief sweet release from the leg straps and the cloth gag, only for his ankles to be shackled and tape to be pasted over his mouth to silence him once again. The bag put over his head to blind him to his surroundings. Being strapped down to the gurney in the execution chamber. He recalled the team seeing him through the window to the chamber. He had no memory of the moments after he was dosed. It made David’s stomach lurch and his heart shatter. It was unfair. Spencer was one of the sweetest, most innocent men David had ever met, and he had been through more than any man should ever go through.

Spencer’s eyes were ringed with red, eyelids heavy. His eyes were still glazed with unshed tears. A trembling hand came up and wiped away the mucus and tears from his nostrils, wincing as he knocked the fracture. He turned his gaze to David and offered him a taut smile of gratitude. The rawness of his throat and his talking had all but zapped his voice, leaving him able only mouth the words ‘thank you’. David patted Spencer gently on the leg.