Ghost Hand (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 14, Breathe with Me

"What is it?" Marcus whispered, crawling into the shadow of the bush and peering over my shoulder.

I felt the moment he recognized Passion, the slight, sharp intake of his breath, followed by a long exhale that fluttered the hair at the back of my neck.

Passion looked bad. Really bad. And my hand had done that.

"Hey," Marcus said, touching my shoulder. "This isn't your fault."

Not my fault? Who was he kidding? A day ago Passion had been a slightly disturbed cutter. Today she was hospitalized, suicidal and catatonic. This must have been the client emergency my mother had run off to last night. Passion Wainwright slitting her wrists. Whatever the blades were, she obviously needed them back, and I had let the CAMFers take them.

"Sometimes people look worse before they get better," Marcus whispered, squeezing my shoulder. What was he, a fucking Hallmark card? Maybe he really believed the bullshit he was shovelling, but I'd learned a long time ago that the worse things are, the more people lie about them.

"We have to get the blades back for her," I said, shaking his hand off my shoulder. Then, I stood up and bolted past the brightly lit window at a full-out sprint.

Marcus let out a muted, "Hey" behind me, but I didn't care. I didn't care if I left him behind or they sent the entire hospital staff after me. By the time they did, I'd be up in the woods, halfway to Chief Palmer's house, on my way to getting Passion's blades back and fixing this mess my hand had made.

I ran past the next window, and the next, the end of the hospital wing streaming by me. I came to the meadow at the bottom of the hill and didn't even slow down. If anything, I picked up speed, revelling in the satisfying thud of my boots against the grass, the frantic beat of my heart, the pain in my body and the night air stinging down my throat and lungs. I deserved some pain.

I came to the bottom of the hill and started pounding up the incline, but it was like hitting a wall. My body suddenly decided enough was enough. I could feel the rush of adrenaline drain away. Part way up the slope I had to stop, bend over, and gasp for breath. My throat felt like someone had scraped it with a cheese-grater.

I turned, looking down at UMH. I was almost at the exact spot my dad and I had sat to watch the sunset. Below me was a dark, humpbacked form trudging up the hill, bent over something in its hand. For one weird moment, I thought it was the Dark Man, then realized it was only Marcus.

"What was that about?" he asked, sounding winded and annoyed, as he tucked his cell phone in his pocket. Strange time to be texting someone. Maybe he'd just been checking the time.

"Did anyone see us?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"Don't think so." He came alongside me, the bag of clothes slung over his shoulder like he was evil Santa or something. He turned and looked down at the hospital. "We should probably keep going. Your nurse will be back to check on you any second. Where to now?" he asked, looking up the hill.

"Plan B," I said, turning upwards and putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm going to get the blades back."

"What? Hey, no way!" Marcus objected, catching up with me.

"I know who has them, and I know exactly where he lives."

"No," Marcus said, dropping the bag and grabbing my arm. Old habits die hard.

"Let go," I said, trying to pull away, but he wasn't messing around.

"Don't be an idiot," he said, moving close to me. "This is exactly what they want you to do. It's probably why they took the backpack in the first place, to lure you after it."