‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ he said.
Belle stared at him mutely. Not kidding, her eyes said.
‘These people—’
‘Sew it up,’ said Belle. ‘You have to.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Bad. Very . . .’ she gulped. Tasted blood again. She felt weak, so weak. And sick to her stomach. ‘Very bad.’
He walked away.
No, he’s going to the phone, they’ll know I got away, Harlan will kill me, they’ll finish it this time . . .
But he went instead to a cupboard, pulled out a blanket, brought it back and draped it over her. It was warm. She was still shivering, which was shock she guessed, or horror or some damned thing, but the blanket was good.
‘Do it, yeah?’ she said, closing her eyes, weary now.
‘It will hurt,’ he warned.
She knew that. ‘Do it.’
He went to the cupboard again. Pulled out a first aid box. Brought it back to the table, opened it up beside her head. She didn’t look. If she did, she knew she’d lose her nerve and let him use the phone and then she’d be fucked.
Then he was gone again. He came back and stood there, looking down at her, holding a dark green bottle in one hand. Then he seemed to come to a decision. He uncorked it and took a swig straight from the neck. Swallowed hard. Then he looked at her again.
‘Want some? It’s good brandy. Might take the edge off.’
Belle tried to shake her head.
‘OK.’ He started laying out the things he’d need. Antiseptic. Swabs. Cotton. A fine needle. When he had it all to hand and ready, he looked at her again. ‘Sure?’
‘No . . . choice,’ she muttered.
He went to the sink and washed his hands; then he came back to her and started. The sensation of the needle piercing the flesh of her cheek, the cotton slithering through the bloodied, hyper-sensitive meat of it, was all too much when she had been through so much already. She screamed aloud, several times. The dog whimpered. Time stretched out and the ordeal seemed to last forever. When he was no more than halfway through, the pain was too bad and Belle passed out. Her last thought before she did so was of Harlan Stone’s cruel smiling face. He would be in charge now, no one to stand in his way.
So she had to live.
She had to fight another day.
That thought stayed with her, following her down into blackness.