Electric Light (Blair Dubh Trilogy #3) Read online

  A nurse popped her head around the door. “I’m sorry, there’s too many people in here as it is. None of you should be here at this time, we’re only allowing it because of the circumstances.”

  “I’ll go,” said Steve. “I could do with getting something to eat anyway, I’m starving.”

  “Sure you’re okay Steve?” frowned Freya. He suddenly looked old and tired.

  “I don’t know,” he replied vaguely before gliding from the room in a daze.

  The nurse closed the door behind him and Freya and Nora were left alone again.

  “He didn’t look right,” said Nora. “Poor lad’s been changed forever.”

  “You’re right,” replied Freya before she remembered she’d fallen out with Nora and the scowl returned.

  A grunt from the bed had them both looking down at Craig. He shifted and grimaced, his eyes flickering open.

  “Craig?” said Freya gently, running her fingers through his hair.

  “Freya?” he mumbled. His eyes snapped open and fixed on the ceiling with horror. “Freya, run.”

  “Sssh, it’s okay babe, you’re safe. You’re in hospital. Graeme’s been arrested. It’s all okay.”

  He blinked then his eyes focused on her “You’re okay?”

  “Yes, fine and you’re going to be fine too. You’ve had some surgery on your stomach but everything went well. You’ll soon be back on your feet. Just get some rest.”

  He gave her hand a weak squeeze, it was the most he could manage. “It doesn’t matter…to me…Logan…”

  “I know babe, I know,” she smiled, tears standing out in her eyes. She leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the protest of her injured knee.

  “Get some sleep son, we’ll watch over you,” said Nora.

  Craig smiled up at her too, eyes already closing. “Good,” he whispered before dropping back off again.

  “I told you he’d be okay,” said Nora, feeling almost buoyant, such was her relief. “He’s strong. He’s going to need us both while he’s getting better. It will be a struggle for you coping alone with both him and Petie on that bad leg.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “You don’t need to manage. I’m here to help.”

  “How can you help when you’re in Blair Dubh?” she retorted.

  “Yes, well, when I was trapped in that pub with a madman outside I had second thoughts about that.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That maybe I’ve had my fill of that village. I can still go back to visit Pete’s grave, although I might take an armed guard. I think maybe it’s time I took a look at the big city and see if it’s all you say it is.”

  “You’ll change your mind. You’ll go back there and that village will cast its spell over you again.”

  “I can’t live there again. I don’t even want to go back there to get my things but I have to so I can pack and put the house on the market.”

  “You really mean it?”

  “I do. You were right, that village is rotten. Actually it’s a bloody death trap. Blair Dubh belongs to the dead now. There’s no place for the living anymore.”

  “It’s not like you to get so superstitious.”

  “I’ve just been through hell. It changed my outlook on life.”

  Nora was heartened by the tiny smile Freya gave her.

  CHAPTER 28

  The earth was tumbling in on her, suffocating, thick clods sticking in her throat, causing her to gag and choke. Her fingernails snapped as they clawed at the earth just inches from her face, fresh panic jolting her body at the sound of the spade hitting the ground above her, stabbing at it before throwing it in on her. All around her the whispers echoed until she felt herself changing, felt the fear dissipate and be replaced by a cold oppression. She went still and it became easier to breathe, despite the fact she was buried under the earth. The whispers were so close to her ear now it was as though the whisperer had lain down beside her. Bony fingers touched her hair, fetid breath wafted over her skin.

  “Daughter,” said the voice.

  Freya jumped awake with a gasp and she could have cried with relief when she realised it was just a dream. She was still at the hospital, maintaining her vigil by Craig’s bedside. Nora, completely exhausted, had been taken to her hotel by a policewoman but Freya had refused to go. Craig had woken again briefly, just before Nora had left. He was drowsy and not quite with it but his surgeon was pleased with his progress.

  She watched him sleep, recalling how he’d looked in the church. She never thought she’d see the day she was afraid of her husband, but he hadn’t been her Craig. Something else had taken him over, something dark that dwelt inside that church.

  Daughter.

  The recollection of that hideous disembodied whisper made her shudder. She’d felt something come over her too when she was holding that gun, something that had drained every last drop of positive emotion out of her, leaving behind only the hatred, the rage, the desire to do harm. If Thorne hadn’t turned up when he did she would have killed Graeme. Her first shot had missed, even though she’d been aiming for his head at close range. She hadn’t expected the weapon to kick back so much, it had knocked her aim off and the bullet had gone into his shoulder instead, smashing through the bone. Her lips curled. At least he was going to be in a lot of pain, which was the least he deserved.

  Freya shook away the pleasure this thought gave her. Remnants of that influence still clung to her and if she wasn’t careful it would take her over again. Even now she could feel it, like a shard of ice lying in her heart. She would have to watch Craig carefully, he’d been as influenced by it as she had. His face had changed, it had taken on a threatening aspect that wasn’t natural to him, the shadows conspiring to distort his features into something disturbing. Even his teeth had looked different, small and sharp, like the mouth of an animal. The memory of that face she dearly loved twisted into something so unnatural made her fear for the future. What if he had ice in his heart too? They had a young child. What if their experiences had changed them irrevocably? What if that malign influence took hold of them again and made them hurt their son? The thought made her want to cry.

  Looking at Craig sleeping so peacefully made it difficult for her to believe that any of it had happened, that anything could be strong enough to make Craig act against his very nature. She resolved to speak to no one about it except him, it would be their secret. Graeme might say something but no one would believe him. One reason she was keeping this vigil was that she couldn’t wait for him to wake up properly so she could get it off her chest. If she knew Craig he’d be worried too, unless she’d imagined the whole episode, but that chill right in the centre of her that had never been there before convinced her she hadn’t.

  Slumped in her wheelchair she drifted in and out of sleep, which was broken by random nightmares, phantoms that surrounded her, whispering dark words before pulling back and vanishing as she opened her eyes. Every hour the door would open and a nurse would walk in, throwing her an apologetic smile for waking her but Craig’s condition required careful monitoring and she was glad he was being so well looked after.

  Finally she gave up on sleep altogether. She needed to see the outside world, to be reassured that it still turned, so she wheeled herself to the window and lifted the blind a tiny bit to peek outside. After that long, terror-filled night the bright, sunny day felt like a rebirth, as though the sun’s rays could cleanse her of the horror. But that ice remained firmly implanted in her soul. She shivered and let the blind drop.

  The sound disturbed Craig who shifted, head slowly rolling from side to side as he drifted back to consciousness. Freya wheeled herself back to him and smiled as his hazy grey eyes blinked up at her.

  “How are you doing?” she said softly.

  “Been better,” he rasped, throat dry. “You?”

  “I’m okay now you’re awake.”

  He groped for her hand and clasped it tightly.

  “How d
o you feel inside?” she said tentatively. When he just looked at her, puzzled, she did start to wonder if it had been her imagination. Then she recalled Graeme’s words and decided she had to do this. “You remember when we were in the church?”

  He nodded, still looking confused.

  “We attacked Graeme,” she said quickly, dropping her voice.

  Of course he remembered, she could tell when his gaze clouded over.

  “We were kicking him when he was down on the floor. That’s not us.”

  Craig nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with worry.

  “I feel different, in here,” she continued, touching her chest. When Craig nodded again, indicating he felt the same, it was almost a relief. She wasn’t alone, she wasn’t losing her mind. “You do too?”

  “Yes,” he said before clearing his throat.

  “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. It’s over.”

  “No it’s not and you know it. I’m sorry,” she added. “I know you’re not well and you don’t need this right now but we have to do something about it, when you’re better.”

  “I felt something in there,” he said, eyes widening, holding onto her hand tighter. “I think it was…”

  “Don’t say it, please,” she said before he could elaborate. “I’m not ready to hear it yet.”

  “Okay, later.” He winced and shifted on the bed.

  “Is it hurting?”

  “No, I just can’t get comfy. I hate hospitals.”

  “You’ll be out before you know it.”

  “We have to go back to Blair Dubh one last time, we have to…”

  “Ssh, it’s okay. I know,” she said, heart sinking.

  Craig soon dropped off again so Freya took the opportunity to wheel herself into Gary’s room. He too had made it through surgery and was, to her surprise, a lot more alert than Craig even though his injury was more serious. Steve was by his bedside, who had showered and changed before returning to the hospital, refusing the pleading of his fiancée to rest. He couldn’t until he knew his colleagues were going to be okay.

  “Freya,” grinned Gary. His smile was broad but his voice was weak.

  “It’s so good to see you awake,” she said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

  “Wow, a kiss from Freya Donaldson. It was almost worth getting shot for.”

  “I wouldn’t go trying it every day,” said Steve dryly.

  “How’s the Sarge?” Gary asked her.

  “Good. He’s woken up but he’s still really groggy. The bullet missed everything vital. How did your surgery go?”

  “Great. I’ll be tap dancing again in a couple of days.”

  “Since when have you tap danced?” said Steve.

  “I might, I feel so good,” he smiled, shifting about on the bed and grimacing. “Ow.”

  “Stay still you bloody fool,” chided Steve. “You’ve still got a bullet in you.”

  “They left it in?” said Freya incredulously.

  “It’s an inch and a half from my heart, they said it’s too risky to remove,” explained Gary. “So I’ll be setting off a lot of metal detectors at airports.”

  Freya sensed his sunny front was masking a deeper pain. “What does that mean for your future? Can you carry on as normal?”

  “I can’t exercise as much as I used to, especially the weightlifting and it looks like I’m finished in the police.”

  “That’s not fair, you’re so good at it,” she said, feeling terrible for him.

  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he said quietly. He forced the grin back on his face. “But the birds are going to be flocking round me after this and I’m going to have a cool scar to show off.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Don’t know. I always thought if I didn’t make it in the police I’d join the army, but they won’t take me now either.”

  She grasped his hand. “I’m so sorry Gary.”

  “At least I’m alive. I am not going to sit around and mope about it.”

  “Good for you,” she smiled. “Think of it as a fresh start.”

  His smile faltered. “I’m trying sweetheart.”

  “You’re going to be kept busy when you get out of here arranging my stag do,” said Steve. “He’s going to be my best man,” he told Freya.

  Gary looked visibly brighter. “Strippers, lots of them.”

  “I don’t think Monica would like that,” said Steve.

  “I’m not asking her to strip.”

  Steve’s expression hardened. “You’d better not.”

  “She won’t know. I’ll tell her we’re going to a poetry reading followed by an alcohol-free meal at a vegan café. How’s that?”

  “She wouldn’t believe it for a second.”

  “I’ll think of something, don’t worry. It’s going to be epic.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Do you know how Graeme is?” said Freya.

  Gary frowned. “Why do you care about that shite bag?”

  “Because I shot him. I’m curious to know if I killed him.”

  “You shot him? Fucking hell sweetheart.”

  “He made it through,” said Steve. “No permanent damage. Unfortunately.”

  “I don’t know if I’m pleased or not,” said Freya thoughtfully.

  “You should be,” said Gary passionately. “It means you’re not going to get into trouble because of that fucker.”

  “Alright, take it easy,” said Steve when he started to get agitated.

  “I bet it felt good when you pressed that trigger,” said Gary.

  Freya thought of the dark oppression that had taken hold of her in the church. “Not really. I just wanted it over.”

  “And you ended it. Now he’s going to rot in prison.”

  “I was sorry to hear about Hughes,” she said. “I couldn’t stand him after the Mad Mandy incident but he didn’t deserve that.”

  “All he wanted was to be a copper and it got him killed,” said Steve, “Let that be a lesson to you Gary. If you’re not capable of doing something then you don’t do it.”

  “Yes Mr Monica,” he smiled.

  “You’re a silly bastard,” he said, shaking his head.

  Freya smiled at the genuine affection between the two men. “Maybe you could be a party organiser Gary? I’m sure you’d arrange some amazing stag nights.”

  “Hey, that’s a great idea,” he said, looking happier already. “Beer and strippers all day long.”

  When the nurses insisted it was time Freya was taken back to her own hospital room Gary was still talking excitedly about his future as a professional party planner.

  CHAPTER 29

  Freya was delighted when James and Veronica walked into her hospital room the following morning with Petie, Fraser holding his dad’s hand. She’d been discharged and they’d come to pick her up.

  “Hello wee man,” she exclaimed, holding her arms out to him.

  The boy laughed and clapped his hands in delight to see his mum and when he was passed to her he wrapped his little arms around her tightly and clung on for dear life. Freya got the feeling he sensed that she’d been through something dangerous in the strange way children often have and buried her face in his downy dark hair, showering him with kisses.

  “He’s missed his maw,” said James, smiling at the two of them together.

  “How’s he been?”

  “A bit fretful,” said Veronica, “but on the whole okay. The question is, how are you?”

  “You know me, I’m a survivor.”

  “That’s not answering my question.”

  “I’m better off than some,” she said, thinking of the list of the dead. Fifteen had been Graeme’s final tally in Blair Dubh, including the two police officers, the two teenagers and Betty, Adam’s grandmother. She’d died of a massive heart attack five hours after being brought to hospital.

  “We’ve just popped in on Craig,” said James. “They weren’t going to let us see
him at first because we’re not family but Veronica dazzled them with her credentials so they relented.”

  “You mean I planted myself in the middle of the ward and refused to go until they’d let me through,” she smiled.

  “As they don’t allow children onto intensive care wards I was left in the corridor with the boys, extremely embarrassed,” smiled James.

  “How was he?” said Freya anxiously. “When I saw him he was really groggy, he wasn’t with it at all.”

  “He was quite alert,” said Veronica. “He’d had chance to recover from the anaesthetic. The outlook’s positive, I promise no one’s keeping anything from you.”

  “Thanks Vee,” said Freya, feeling better. She drifted off into silence, smiling down at Petie.

  Both Veronica and James noted how closely she was studying her son, as though she was searching for something, and frowned at each other.

  “Why don’t I take the boys for their snack while you get yourself sorted out?” offered Veronica.

  “Not in your condition,” said James. “Why don’t you rest here and I’ll take them?”

  “I’ve got a craving for croissants dripping with butter,” replied Veronica, giving him a meaningful look, eyes darting from him to Freya.

  “Oh,” he said, finally cottoning on. “Okay. We’ll meet you in the canteen then.”

  Veronica rolled her eyes at him before holding her hand out to Petie. “I promised you some juice and toast, didn’t I?”

  Petie seemed reluctant to leave his mum until Fraser started clapping and cheering at the thought of toast, so he relented. Freya gave him a kiss as he slipped down off her knee. Her smile was sad as she watched him toddle up to Veronica and take her hand.

  “I’ll see you soon baby,” she called to him.

  He waved with his chubby hand before disappearing out the door with Veronica and Fraser. James closed the door behind them and turned to Freya. He didn’t need to say anything, she saw the question in his eyes.