Page 62 of Unwell
A scent bloomed in the air, as familiar as breath. Peppery and woody.
Elijah.
He was there.
He wouldn’t let anyone take her.
Relief washed through me as I stood back. My smile held as Nancy guided me gently back into a chair. I didn’t take my eyes off Alice, making sure no one but Nancy held her.
And then straps pulled tight across my chest, harsh leather biting into my skin.
Then my wrists and ankles as I tried to kick and push the doctors off.
Cold metal kissed my skin, sending a chill through my veins that stole my ability to move.
My bladder loosened in a hot flush as panic gripped me. ‘No. Nancy! You said we are going home. You promised! Please, don’t let them?—’
But then I saw them.
Dr. Marney and the others, their white coats merging in front of me. Their eyes glinted dangerously as they enjoyed my distress. On a tray nearby lay tools I didn’t recognise. Long and silver, pointed like needles, others blunt and heavy and menacing. They clinked as Marney lifted a terrifyingly long metal spike.
My throat closed around a sob. ‘What are those? Why do you need them? Elijah. Elijah, please don’t let them hurt me!’
I strained against the straps, wrists burning and ankles bruising. ‘Don’t let them take her! Don’t let them take my baby!’
Nancy’s face swam above me, blurred by my tears. She still held Alice, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
‘Elijah!’ I screamed, thrashing pointlessly against the straps. ‘Help me! You promised you’d protect me!’
His scent still clung, Elijah was there.
He had to be.
He always came when I needed him most.
Even as the doctors surrounded me.
Even as the straps cut deeper.
Even as Nancy turned away.
Even as the pointed metal stick neared my eye.
Elijah would come.
He always did.
THIRTY-EIGHT
NANCY
Ihad dabbed the aftershave along my neck that morning. An unopened bottle I’d hidden away for Robert’s birthday. A birthday that would never come. The peppery, spiced scent had hung about me all day, and when Ginny caught it in the air, she had smiled.
‘Elijah,’ she’d whispered.
It was the only way I’d be able to bring her comfort before I deceived her.
She’d handed over her baby at last. Such a slight weight in my arms that it broke me. Ginny hadn’t seen Alice as anything but alive. Cooing over her sweet baby even as she deteriorated. Tears made my vision waver as I traced her delicate skin. It already softened, peeling in places, her tiny lips blackening at the edges. Thesmell of rot seeped thickly from her. The little ducky pyjamas I’d saved for my baby were barely holding in Alice’s ballooning gut.
