CHAPTER 13

Joanna couldn’t believe her eyes. Nina was dead, and she had killed her, accidentally driving the chair leg through her stomach. No one could have survived – but then, confusing as it was, Nina was already dead before that, killed when the nurse snapped her neck. It was only Lincoln doing whatever he did to her body that brought her – or something pretending to be her – back to life.

But whatever or whoever stood talking to Lincoln, it wasn’t Nina.

That’s when she realised that if Nina wasn’t technically dead, then she couldn’t be accused of murder or manslaughter or whatever it was they wanted to charge her with.

Now all she needed to do was prove Nina – or something purporting to be her - was alive.

“It will stop others from thinking I’m weak and that they can take control,” Lincoln said to Nina.

“No one will think that.”

“Not now they won’t. Without me, there’s no way through from purgatory.”

“Talking of which, don’t you think you should step up procurement of the hosts?”

Lincoln cocked his head from side to side, as though relieving tired muscles. “All in good time.”

“Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

Lincoln glared at Nina. “Long enough that a few more days won’t matter. Now if you want to make yourself useful, why don’t you go and find Miss Raines before she can cause any problems. And this time, don’t let her get away. We don’t want any unnecessary interference if she manages to get someone to listen to her story.”

“I don’t know why you’re bothering. No one will believe her. Besides, with the police after her, she isn’t likely to pose a threat.”

“And that’s precisely who we don’t want her talking to if they find her first. Now go.”

Panicked, Joanna turned and looked back along the corridor. She didn’t have time to run back to the door she’d entered by, and there was nowhere else to hide that she could see, so the only place she could go, was inside the room.

Fighting the urge to be sick, she ducked low enough that the panel and machinery shielded her and slipped around the corner before Nina turned her way, hoping and praying that no one spotted her. Once inside, she hid behind a stack of boxes. She could hear her heart beating away; was sure other people would be able to hear it too.

Footsteps approached. She heard the walker stop as they reached the door, and she sank down even further, trying to make herself as one with the shadows, head tucked into the crook of her arms as though creating a barrier through which nothing could penetrate.

After a moment, she heard the person, probably Nina, continue on their way and disappear along the corridor, and she relaxed.

“It’s time we were going too,” she heard Lincoln say. “Now remember, if you need me, you know where I am. Otherwise, we’ll reconvene here at midnight all being well.”

The onerous tread of numerous feet exited the room, and in the following silence, Joanna took deep breaths. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she fought them back down. She had to be strong. But she couldn’t do this on her own.


“Jesus, Joanna, where are you?” Stephen asked.

“Listen,” she said, talking quickly into her mobile phone. “Whatever the police told you, it’s all lies. Nina’s not dead. I’ve just seen her.”

“Slow down. You’re not making any sense.”

“It’s hard to explain, but I didn’t kill her. You’ve got to believe me.”

“I believe you. Just tell me where you are.”

“It’s Lincoln you see. He did something to her. Him and that nurse. He did something to her too. Only the nurse is now dead. Lincoln killed her. Only I think she’s really dead this time.”

“Nina?”

“No, the nurse. Perhaps Nina too really. But I don’t know if she can die any more. At least not in the conventional sense.”

“Now I’m really confused.”

Joanna closed her eyes and tried to compose her thoughts. Hearing Stephen’s voice comforted her a little, but deep down, she knew she was alone. That without proof, she was going to have difficulty convincing anyone of her story.

And that proof was out there in the form of Nina.

“What did the police say to you?” she asked. When he didn’t reply, she imagined him sitting there, tongue out, frown lines marring his forehead as he tried to make sense of what she was telling him.

After a moment, Stephen said, “They said Nina had been murdered, and that they wanted to question you about it. That someone matching your description was at the scene when it happened.”

Joanna swallowed, fighting to obliterate the hideous sight of Nina lying in a puddle of blood. “Yes, I was there. But whatever they told you, it’s not true. I stabbed Nina with a chair leg, but it was an accident.”

Stephen choked. “So you did kill her.”

“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. She’s not dead. She can’t die. Lincoln did something to her. He put something inside her.”

“Jo, just tell me where you are. I’ll help you.”

“I’m in the hospital basement.”

“Stay there. I’ll come find you.”

“Please hurry.”

She disconnected the call and leaned back against the wall.


Minutes ticked by. Joanna looked at her watch for the umpteenth time. She spat out a sliver of fingernail, letting it join the other bits around her feet. Suppose Lincoln or Nina got to Stephen. She should have told him to be careful – that he might be in danger. Perhaps they should have arranged to meet away from the hospital.

But it was too late now. He was on his way. At least she hoped he was. What was taking him so long?

She heard the door open at the end of the corridor. About time.

The sound propelled her to her feet and she hurried out of the room to meet him, shocked to see two police officers approaching.

Shadows moved with them and around them, indicating that the same thing possessed them as it did Nina and the others. The sight reminded her of the film, Peter Pan, when his shadow takes on a life of its own.

Now she knew the only way the police could have found her, was if Stephen had told them where she was. She really thought she could trust him. That they had a bond. Obviously she was wrong.

Terrified into flight, Joanna turned and ran in the opposite direction.

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