‘Hello, Matt,’ Sara Robbins said, licking blood from her lips and smiling. ‘I told you we’d meet again.’
I wasn’t surprised it was her. I grabbed the front of her jacket with one hand and smashed the other into her face. I kept doing that till it was a red mush, then I let her fall back, then turned and ran.
‘Karen!’ I screamed. ‘Where are you? Karen!’
I followed the direction she had taken, looking from side to side. The grass wasn’t long enough to hide her. They had disappeared.
Could she have got to the trees? How long had I been struggling with Sara?
I reached the forest. ‘Karen!’ I yelled, again and again.
Then I pushed past a low branch covered in fresh leaves. There she was, lying on the ground with her arms outstretched. The baby was a few feet ahead. Both were motionless.
‘Karen,’ I moaned, falling to my knees. ‘Magnus…’
The pain that suddenly transfixed me was worse than any I had known. I looked down and saw the bloody point of the bayonet protruding from my chest.
I screamed and then an explosion of light melted my eyes.
‘Matt? Matt?’
I was blind and the pain in my chest was still intense. My head was also throbbing. The voice, soft and deep and female, continued saying my name, but I didn’t recognize it.
‘Pull it out,’ I heard myself say. ‘Pull it out!’
I felt dampness on my eyes, a cloth or the like. Then it was withdrawn and I found I could open them. Faces swam into view.
‘Pull it out! Please…’
A honey-colored face that I’d seen before came close to mine. ‘It’s Angel, Matt. The midwife.’
My chest was in agony. ‘Pull it out,’ I pleaded.
‘Pull what out, Matt?’
‘My heart,’ I said. ‘My heart. Pull it out.’
Angel’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Oh, Matt.’
A man in a white coat moved in front of her. ‘Mr. Wells? My name’s Jimson. I’m the doctor looking after you. Do you remember what happened?’
I stared at him. ‘Of course I do. Karen and I were having a picnic. It’s the first time we’d taken the baby on one. We…’ I broke off as I had flashes of Sara Robbins in black, a rifle in her hands. And a bayonet. ‘Karen,’ I said. ‘Where is she? Where’s my son?’
‘Calm down, Mr. Wells. I gave you a sedative. You’ve been…you’ve been dreaming.’
Something clicked and my world seemed to reconfigure itself. ‘That’s a relief…’ I said.
Dr. Jimson nodded. He was a handsome man in his uniform, a colonel, no less. I remembered the other doctor, the one with blood on his tunic. Kitano. He told me that…
Something clicked again, this time more jagged and metallic.
‘He’s remembered,’ I heard Jimson say. ‘Get ready to restrain him.’
But I didn’t move. I just said dully, ‘Karen’s dead. Our son, as well.’ A bitter taste filled my mouth and the pain in my heart got worse. ‘Isn’t that so?’
He looked at me and then nodded. ‘I’m very sorry, Mr. Wells. My colleagues did everything they-’
‘I want to see them.’
‘I…I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’
‘I want to see them. Now!’
Two big men appeared on either side of the bed and took hold of my shoulders.
‘Please, Mr. Wells, you need to-’
‘I want to see them!’ The words burned my throat.
A face that I recognized appeared from behind one of the gorillas.
‘Let him see them, Doctor,’ Peter Sebastian said. ‘It’s what he needs to do.’
Jimson nodded. ‘Very well. But he’s still my patient. I need to check if he’s up to it.’
I closed my eyes as he examined me. I breathed evenly, willing myself to appear normal. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat; there was only the knifing pain.
After some time, I felt electrodes being removed from my chest and I opened my eyes. The big men had stepped back.
‘Can you sit up, Mr. Wells?’ Jimson asked.
I found that I could. One of the auxiliaries pushed a wheelchair forward.
‘I don’t need that.’ I pushed my feet downward and put my weight on them. My legs felt weak, but I could take a few steps.
‘Let him walk,’ Sebastian said.
I looked at him and felt relief. At least someone understood. Angel knelt down and slipped a pair of slippers onto my feet.
‘Follow me,’ the doctor said, heading toward the door.
I moved forward.
‘Would you like me to come with you?’ Sebastian asked.
I shrugged. Whatever happened, I was going to see them alone. He could tag along as far as the last door if he wanted.
Fortunately, nobody spoke during the short walk. Angel was in the group, probably because she felt bad about what had happened. I didn’t feel anything except the pain in my heart.
Jimson led us through a door. There were desks and other office furniture, and another door across the room. A sign said Authorized Admittance Only and there was a key card panel.
‘Mr. Wells,’ he said, his eyes avoiding mine, ‘Dr. Kitano had to perform a Cesarean section. You…you should be aware of that.’
I understood the warning-don’t look down there. ‘I’m going in on my own,’ I said, extending my hand, palm up.
The doctor exchanged glances with Peter Sebastian, who nodded, and gave me a plastic card.
‘I’ll be here, Matt,’ Sebastian said, his expression grave. ‘Anything you need, anything at all.’
I walked away from them and inserted the card into the locking device. I pushed the door and let it close after me. The room was cold. The first two aluminum tables were shrouded by white sheets. The one on the left was almost flat, a tiny object lying near the top. The outline of an adult was on the right. I stepped up to that table first and drew the sheet back slowly. Karen’s face was peaceful, the furrows labor had created on her forehead now gone. Her skin was gray, as were her lips, and her hair was limp. I stood by her for a time, my fingers on her chill brow. The pain in my heart had increased even more and I was struggling to stay upright. Tears drenched my cheeks and obscured my vision.
After a while, I went to our son. I pulled the sheet away gently and looked at the small body that was still curled as it had been inside Karen. It was swaddled in white, the face a deep, unnatural blue. His hair was dark brown and there was a lot of it. His nose was flat and his lips an even deeper shade of blue. He was beautiful. I picked him up and kissed him on the forehead. Then I took him to his mother, pulling down her shroud and setting him gently on her chest. Her arms had already stiffened, but I managed to get them around him. I stepped back to take in the sight of them together. I kissed them both for the last time, and then I covered them carefully with the sheet.
When I opened the door, the group in the other room looked away, apart from Peter Sebastian. He stepped toward me, but he didn’t make it in time.
I saw the floor approach rapidly. Then everything, even the pain in my heart, was gone.
Thirteen
The Soul Collector. Sara Robbins considered the name she had given herself the last time she had been in the U.K. It struck her now as ludicrously over the top, despite the fact that it had been a tribute to her brother, who had called himself the White Devil. She had been influenced by the occult back then. Not that she believed in any of the Satanic stuff, but her sister had. And Matt Wells had killed her, just as he’d been responsible for the White Devil’s death. She would never forget that, no matter how much time passed or how much the circumstances changed-and no matter what her expensive Upper West Side shrink said.
She glanced around the chairs outside the Brooklyn Heights cafe. It was the kind of place that pandered to its customers by putting gas heaters on the terrace in winter, even on days like today, when the sun was bright and there wasn’t much wind. A pair of well-dressed young women at the table in front of her discussed their boyfriends, listing their inadequacies and squealing with laughter. They both had leather laptop cases and were obviously in good jobs. Sara was tempted to lift one of the bags. When she had worked on a newspaper in London, she had often picked people’s pockets on the Underground and slipped shop goods into her pocket-nothing major enough to be missed, but she was good at it, she never got caught and it was fun. The chaos that the loss of her laptop would bring to the airhead was delicious to imagine, but Sara decided against it. As ever, she was keeping a low profile.