fifty-eight

Beneath the medication that the doctor had given Nathan, the static and crackle shivered around the edges of his thoughts, waiting to burst through the soft fuzz brought on by the meds. He still heard the refrain that now accompanied him throughout the day.

Can yoouu kill, can yoouu kill

The sound of it gleeful now, having overheard Danny’s whispered conversation and the name that Danny had repeated back to his caller, corroborating it: Cedric Gibson, who went by Sid.

Nathan knew that name; of course he did. Zoe had introduced them the night Sid picked her up to go listen to a band. He pictured Zoe inviting the man into his house for the introduction. She’d always been proper about introductions, but Nathan hadn’t cared. He’d continued dipping a vase into glaze without looking up.

This man—Sid. He was playing a game. Had to be; why else befriend Zoe? Or maybe Zoe had befriended him.

Footsteps and voices approached his corner of the ward. The curtains around him parted. “He’s awake, yes. He needs to eat his lunch.”

A nurse bustled in and raised his bed to a sitting position. She arranged him as if he were one of the pillows and swung a tray with his lunch on it over his lap.

“Chicken breast with mash and peas.” She adjusted the fluid line as she passed. “You should be feeling better with the fluids.”

A murmur and then Merrit peeked her head in. “Nathan?”

He picked up a fork and knife, considered the knife for a moment—not sharp—and hacked into the pallid chicken flesh. He ignored the greyish peas that floated on soupy mashed potatoes.

Merrit squinched her nose up in distaste. “Appetizing. I ran into Danny on my way in. He said you didn’t want visitors, but I was already here. Hope that’s okay. I won’t stay long.”

The chicken was nothing but textures on Nathan’s tongue. He accepted that he required food if he hoped to hunt down Sid and obliterate him. He’d take on that task to redeem himself of Susannah’s death. And Annie’s. He suspected he was to blame for her death, too. He didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. He latched onto Sid like a life preserver.

“That man, Sid,” he said.

“You know about him?”

“Yes, yes, Zoe introduced him to me, plus I overheard Danny’s side of a phone conversation.” He cut more chicken and placed it inside his mouth. “What did Danny say about him?”

So Merrit told him, and Nathan leaned back into the pillows. Cedric Gibson.

“All I know is that he’s someone from Annie’s past,” Merrit said.

“I’m sure it’s him,” Nathan said. “It has to be. The man who killed Annie.”

“Maybe. That’s what the guards are investigating.” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “But Nathan, they’re interested in you, too. You know that, don’t you?”

Of course. He was an utter lunatic with a faulty memory, a man who couldn’t go a day without losing time or going mental or stumbling to his knees under the weight of his exhaustion.

He knew how it looked.

After Merrit left, Nathan drifted into sleep on the peaceful waves brought on by thoughts of obliterating Sid Gibson.