Fiona was lying, propped up by pillows, in the hospital bed, watching the sun slowly slipping down below the window ledge. Soon it will be dark, she thought. A tremor of fear rumbled through her body. Ever since the phone call from Jane, three days ago, she hadn’t slept. She knew that if those two bastards were going to return, they would come at night. The rattle of crockery out in the corridor drew her attention to the door. With supper coinciding with visiting time, there were always a few hours of frantic activity and she’d be safe, but by 10 pm, the hospital would go quiet and that’s when… she swallowed the salvia that had appeared in her throat.
Her body ached with just lying in bed and every movement caused her pain, but she had to keep practicing. She began with her legs. Her right hand shot to her stomach and tears filled her eyes, as she raised each leg in turn, an inch. She relaxed after just one try, releasing her breath in a smothered screech and panting the agony away. Now the worst part, she said to herself, placing her right wrist at the side of her hip. Carefully, and ever so slowly, she eased her upper body forward, off the pillow. The muscles in her chest felt like they were tearing apart, sending out tortured spasms throughout her chest. She paused, sipping in air, waiting for a break in the pain. There was none. She pushed on, moving herself further forward. Her arm began to shake under the tension of holding her body upright; her breath was sucked in and gushed out in spittle, through her gritted teeth; and her eyes were squeezed together with such pressure, no tears could escape. Finally, she collapsed back against the pillow.
‘I can’t do it, I just can’t,’ she gasped. In her current state, it would be impossible for her to out run or escape the PI and his gorilla, when they came. She began to cry. Where was this man Jane was sending, why wasn’t he here?
The door opened and Fiona quickly gulped back the sobs and brushed away the tears, taking in deep breaths to relax her. The nurse moved to the bed with her supper and night-time medicines: pain medication that made her drowsy and sleeping pills. The nurse stopped and looked at her.
‘You look flushed,’ she said, touching Fiona’s head. ‘And you’re sweating. Are you feeling, okay?’
Fiona nodded. ‘It’s just the pain.’
‘Oh, you poor luv. This should help.’ The nurse gave her a little cup of tablets and a glass of water. Fiona slipped the pills between her teeth and gum while she swallowed the water from the glass.
The nurse smiled. ‘That should ease your pain, but let me know if it doesn’t.’ She took away the empty cup and adjusted Fiona’s pillows. On her way out of the door, she turned and said, ‘I’ll check on you later.’
Just as the door was swinging closed, Fiona caught a glimpse of the policeman sat outside. When she had spoken to the detective about her fear that the PI and gorilla were going to come back, he had agreed to leave a policeman to guard her. It gave her some comfort knowing he was there.
She spat the tablets into her hand and put them in the small rubbish bag hooked onto the bedside table. They had begun dissolving in her mouth, so she quickly took a mouthful of water to wash the taste away. All too soon the hospital grew quiet and the night began.
Fiona didn’t remember dropping off to sleep and she woke with a start. Her room was in complete darkness, yet she knew she had left the light on. There was even no light from the window, which meant the blinds had been drawn down. She lay quietly, listening intently, her mind filling her with fear. She took a deep breath, calming her emotions, remembering that the nurse had said she would return. Perhaps it was her who had switched off the light.
A sound from the door, like a thud, drew her attention and the thin glow from the corridor, seeping under the door, highlighted what seemed like the side of a shoe. She blinked and focused again. Someone was standing against the wall, she was sure of it. Keeping her eyes fixed on the shoe, her right hand cautiously moved over her body to the left side of the bed searching for the light switch.
It wasn’t there.
She turned her head, just catching the smell of stale cigarette smoke. A voice said, ‘Is this what you’re looking for, honey?’ The light came on and she found herself staring into the sneering grin of the PI.
Fiona threw herself over to the right and off the bed. The pain of impacting the floor intensified the pain in her chest and sent shock waves through her plastered left arm. She screamed in agony and would have lost consciousness except for the fact the PI had followed her over the bed and was now straddling her, forcing his bony fingers into her face and over her mouth immediately choking her quiet. He leaned in towards her, his right knee shifting so it eased down onto her chest. A yellow-stained, toothy grin spread across his face when Fiona cringed in pain. He forced her head to the right and she saw a pool of blood, creeping across the floor towards her, from the body of the policeman. His throat cut by the PI’s gorilla, now standing over him.
She felt the PI’s warm breath in her ear. ‘Are you ready to die?’ he hissed.
Fiona closed her eyes; she knew there was nothing she could do.
The sound of the door crashing against the wall vibrated across the floor and Fiona’s eyes opened in time to see a flash of movement, of what looked like a figure of a man, smash into the PI’s gorilla. The force of the impact sent them both toppling over the policeman’s body and the gorilla crunched into the windowsill before sliding, unconscious, to the floor.
The PI was startled, but quick, he let go of Fiona’s head and pushed his hand into his jacket. He began to rise off her chest, pulling out a gun. Fiona knew her rescuer would have no chance to defend himself. She swung her right hand up, steeling herself for the pain and forced her strapped up, broken fingers in between the PI’s legs with as much force as she could. His screech was like that of a fighting cat and he turned on her, the gun coming down towards her head.
Fiona watched it play out as if in slow motion, numb to the pain in her hand and body. Her rescuer had taken advantage of the distraction and he caught the PI’s head from behind, twisting it with such force that Fiona heard it snap. The PI fell towards her, but was caught by the man and thrown over to the side. The gun slipped from the PI’s hand and landed on the floor by her side.
She saw her rescuer clearly for the first time. A man with a muscular body, dressed in black, wearing a black balaclava, so only his beautiful copper brown eyes showed through. Before she could speak, a thick arm swung round the man’s neck pulling him up and back. The PI’s gorilla had him in a choking grip and she could see her rescuer’s eyes bulging with the pressure being put on his head. She didn’t know how her rescuer did it, for it happened so fast, but he seemed to bounce backwards, forcing the gorilla against the wall. She heard a grunt and then they were fighting face-to-face; their fists pounding into each other and their bodies buckling with each impact, until they fell against the bed, locked in each other’s grip. The bed screeched across the floor, until it reached the wall by the door. They fell to the floor out of her sight. She could still hear the grunts and groans as they continued to fight, until finally there was a gasping sound and scuffling, as if legs were fraying about on the floor. A few seconds later, it was quiet.
Fiona readied herself, sure in her mind that the gorilla was coming to finish her off. She saw the PI’s gun next to her and grabbed it, swinging it round as her peripheral vision caught sight of a figure coming towards her. She stopped, her eyes filling with tears, as she recognised it was her rescuer. He knelt down and gently took the gun from her. His eyes crinkled, as if he was smiling under the balaclava and when he pulled it off, Fiona saw the dark-blond haired, handsome man who had saved her. Blood was trickling down from a cut across his right eyebrow and his left cheek looked red and sore. He held up a bracelet and said quietly, ‘Don’t think I need this to clarify who I am.’
‘Stan?’ Fiona whispered and began to cry.
‘Shall we get out of here?’ he asked, slipping his arms under her and lifting her up. ‘Sorry if I’m hurting you,’ he whispered into her ear, as she stifled a moan.
She snuggled her head into his neck and said, ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’ Then slipped into unconsciousness.