I screamed. The sound reverberated in the dark, empty house as he dropped me to the floor with a thud.
From our bedroom, there came a crash. A flicker of hope surged through me. Eric stood over me, blood dripping from his face. He kicked me twice in the ribs and again in the head. He wore boots, so each kick felt like a Mack truck.
“Christopher.” I could barely whisper. It was hard to remain conscious with all the pain coursing through me.
Eric laughed, a hideous mocking sound as he grabbed my arm again. “You’re a pathetic little bird that can’t even squawk.” He towed me toward the door, dragging me across the tile.
“Christopher,” I said again, louder.
From a distance, Christopher roared, and a light snapped on.
“Brandon said you’d be a perfect candidate because you’re so cold inside, but I want to break through that reserve. It’ll be quite the challenge.”
I screamed in agony as he attempted to haul me outside. If he got me out of the house, I’d disappear. Nobody would know what happened.
There was another thump and Eric looked up.
“Lizzie!” Christopher lurched into sight.
Eric dropped my broken arm. I screamed at the inferno, burning my arm from the inside. Pain blurred my vision. My eyelids were too heavy and I hurt in so many places. He threw open the front door. The alarm sounded and then faded from my awareness. I lay on the cold tile floor—the door opened to the January night as Eric fled and the world disappeared.
Chapter 25
When I came to, everything was muffled, and the light was too bright. I panicked and struggled at first, but I was too tired to fight, so I drifted. It was easier to sleep. When I came to again, faces blurred above me. Bland walls and the faces of doctors and nurses filed in and out. I was in the hospital, not in a lab. I searched for Christopher’s face, but couldn’t find him.
“Where’s Christopher?” I pleaded with those around me.
I don’t know how long I existed in that state, a fog of morphine and misery. It could have been a few days; it could have been a week. There was no way to guess. It was painless to sleep, but my mind couldn’t rest. Fevered nightmares plagued me with monsters and shadowy attackers. I searched for Christopher, knowing he’d make everything better. Where was he?
When I opened my eyes, this time the light was muted. Meghan’s tear-streaked face was the first I saw.
“Meghan?” I whispered.
My sister yelped and grabbed my hand, squeezing so tight it hurt.
“We’ve been so worried. Thank goodness you know me, this time. You’re awake.”
“What’s wrong with me?” It hurt to talk and my throat was dry as sand.
“You were attacked.” Fresh tears fell from her eyes. “Your shoulder was dislocated and your ulna and radius were both broken. You had surgery a couple of days ago. Your head injury and bruised ribs had us worried. The doctors didn’t know why you wouldn’t wake up.” Meghan’s voice broke as she finished her account.
“Where’s Christopher?” My lips were cracked and dry. I wet them with my tongue and whispered again, worried that she hadn’t heard when she didn’t answer. “Where’s Christopher?”
Meghan covered her face with her hands and sobbed. She didn’t answer my question and ran from the room. Had Eric hurt him, too? I couldn’t remember past Christopher’s entry to the kitchen when he’d called my name. I’d blacked out just as he’d yelled his nickname for me, ‘Lizzie’. He was himself again; the antidote had worked.
Andrew was the next visitor.
“Hey, you’re awake. We were worried.”
“Did they get him?” I forced my voice to be audible.
Andrew’s eyes were bloodshot, and he had several days’ worth of stubble on his face. He dropped to the chair beside my hospital bed and took my hand. He looked so worried; I must look awful if it scared him to talk to me.
“Christopher? Is he here?”
Andrew shook his head and turned away, perhaps so I wouldn’t see the wetness in his eyes.
Was Christopher hurt? Is that why he wasn’t here?
