PART SEVEN

There was an uneasy silence between the pair of them. Jac stared motionlessly at her father, unable to speak, her mind spinning in complete disbelief. She closed her eyes, blinked, and opened them again. He was still there. But, how could he be here? Jac ran her hands through her hair in desperation. Where was here anyway? Jac looked around the miles of desolate cold ice that surrounded them as they stood precariously in the middle of a frozen lake. Where were they and why had Grace abandoned her...just like that?

All this time, her father had been watching her curiously. He didn't speak; he just stood, waiting for her to accept the truth. Jac noticed how cold and frail he looked as he leant uneasily on his cane. Finally she found her voice as the bitter wind whistled loudly overhead.

"How?" she spluttered meekly. Her eyes were wide and questioning, the tone of her voice high-pitched, almost scared. Jac's father watched her a little longer, contemplating his response. He appeared frailer and more worn with each passing moment.

"What do you mean?" He asked with a gentle smile at his daughter. Jac took a step back from him; it wasn't that she distrusted him, she just couldn't be sure it was him.

"How are you here?" Jac's voice was clearer now but still with a hint of terror hidden behind it. Behind them the moonlight pierced through the clouds, giving the snow a yellowish glow.

"Because I have to be," he replied determinedly. Jac started to pace around in a tight circle, muttering under her breath:

"No, no, no, no, no, no..."

"No?" said her father quizzically. Jac stopped pacing.

"You can't be here!" She cried out emotionally. "It's impossible!"

"Why?" Jac rounded on him:

"Because you died!"

Footsteps echoed over a metal floor. They marched on clinically through the darkened room, shadowy and silhouetted. All around the newcomer were rows and rows of beds with white metal frames, each occupied by a sleeping figure. The stranger didn't stop to look at any of them, simply moving further down the room towards the door at the other end. In the faint light given off by the flickering single bulb overhead some of the faces of those occupying the beds could be seen. Their faces were pale, ashen-like and gaunt. Some looked half-dead; some appeared faded as though they were almost gone from the world. Others were covered with gashes, some large, some small; their skin was caked in dried blood.

They weren't all asleep. As the stranger got closer to the other side, a few of the patients began to stir. They coughed and retched; some were crying while others were being violently sick into a bucket placed beside their bed. A tiny, hollow-looking young woman with wispy brunette hair clambered unevenly out of bed and made towards the still marching shadow.

"Ah...ah...ah...Are you?" the woman asked, stuttering over her words. The stranger stopped dead in her tracks. They turned around and stared piercingly at the woman that stood, bent double, in front of her. "Ah...ah...ah...ah...are you here to s...s...s...save us?" Her eyes were wide and frightened; she looked incredibly weak.

"I'm afraid not," the stranger replied in a not unkindly voice. "Someone will be here soon," they added in an attempt to reassure the now trembling woman.

"S...s...soon?" She struggled to say.

"Go back to bed," the stranger told her soothingly. "It's freezing out here, you need to keep warm." The woman didn't move.

"Y...you m...m...must help us..."

"I can't." The woman just stared. "I'm sorry, I wish I could but it's not for me to decide."

"You w...won't help us?" The woman's voice was almost pleading now. The single light was blinking on and off so that every now and then all the stranger could see were the whites of the woman's eyes. They felt slightly freaked out by this.

"I have to go," they said firmly. The stranger turned away from the now inexplicably mumbling woman. A hand suddenly gripped their shoulder tightly, fingernails digging into their skin. "What are you doing?"

"You will help us," the woman's voice was firm; no longer stuttering, no longer frightened. It was cold, calculating and determined. She tightened her grip.

"I cant!" the stranger shouted desperately. "I'm sorry!" Their eyes were beginning to water from the pain in her shoulder.

"You will help us," the woman said again. Her face deadpan. "You will help us," she repeated over and over again. "You will help us. You will help us. You will help us." The stranger looked over her shoulder, others were climbing out of their beds now. They were all heading towards her. All repeating the same phrase:

"You will help us. You will help us..." The light gave one last hopeless flicker and then died out completely. Total darkness engulfed them.

"You died," Jac said again. "I remember, I went to your funeral!" Her father gave her a small smile.

"I know," he said reminiscently. "It was a lovely service."

"So...you are...I mean you did..." Jac's voice trailed off as she stared at the frail figure of her father.

"Yes, I died," he said with a kindly twinkle in his greyish green eyes. Jac edged closer to him at last. She reached out a pale hand and touched him lightly on his face.

"But you're here...I mean you're really here. I can touch you," she said quietly.

"I'm not here. You're not here. None of us are here," he told her with warmth in his old voice. Jac didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" she cried! Jac felt so scared, she had no idea what was happening and worst of all, she had no control over any of it.

"This, all of this, it's happening inside your mind." Jac's father stared at her encouragingly. "I'm here because you wanted me to be."

"I-" Jac started then stopped quickly as new thoughts flooded through her mind. Had she wanted him to be here? She couldn't remember the last time she had thought about her father; she usually kept him buried to the back of her mind. The memory of his passing too upsetting to dwell on. Then she remembered the photo she had seen on Grace's seat. Perhaps it had been that, just that, that had reawakened those dormant thoughts.

"It's okay Jac," her father said, placing an affectionate arm around her shoulder. "Come, we must walk." Jac didn't resist, she felt strangely reassured by him. They began to walk, taking care over the slippery ice.

"I'm sorry," Jac said as they strode across the lake. Her father looked at her with an enquiring expression in his eyes.

"Whatever for?"

"For everything. For how I acted when...when you..."

"It's fine. You were scared, we were all scared." Jac gave him a sad gaze.

"I missed you," she said quietly. The initial frostiness between them had now completely thawed away and both father and daughter walked together comfortable in the other's presence.

"So did I," her father said. "You were always in my thoughts." He stopped suddenly in his tracks, tapping his cane on the ice.

"Why have we stopped?" Jac asked, staring in surprise at her father.

"We need to talk," he said with a commanding but still pleasantly gentile voice.

"I thought we already were," Jac said.

"About you." Jac looked first at him, then at her shoes. She had been afraid of this.

All the stranger could see were rows and rows of glowing eyes staring piercingly at them. They had stopped advancing but the stranger daren't move away. The woman that had gripped her shoulder now stood back from her, unmoving, silent as a ghost. Her breath came out in wisps of smoke, creepily staring. They started to move towards her, ever slowly as if zombies. The stranger held a wizened hand out, trying to tell them to stop. They ignored her. She started to back away as the leader of the pack, the young woman, came ever closer. She could feel her breath on her neck, could smell the rotting odour of dead flesh and stale clothes and as the woman drew ever closer, the stranger could sense the desperation of her.

"You will help us," the dreaded voices came through again, the echoes bouncing off the cold metal walls. "You will help us." It was no use pleading with them, they didn't understand or perhaps it was that they couldn't understand. Clank! The stranger, still facing the advancing crowd, looked behind in astonishment. Clank! Something was moving at the bottom of the room...Clank! The stranger's heart felt heavy, whatever it was, it surely wasn't going to be good. Clank! There was something moving towards her...towards them. It wasn't like the others, it moved steadily and gracefully. As it drew closer, the stranger saw that the clanking noises it made were simply the sound of metal soles on a metal floor. The man's face, for it was a man, was obscured by a dark hood; he wore a cloak tied at the chest with a tight knot. He towered over the rest of them but there was only benevolence in his blue eyes.

"You should not be waking," he called out to the dark in a deep, booming voice. The stranger eyed him curiously for she had no clear recollection of his presence here before. "Go, go to sleep and do not disturb." The man raised his gloved hands but the crowd remained exactly where they were. "SLEEP!" The man cried with gusto but they did not move. They tilted their heads and watched him intently. "YOU MUST SLEEP!" The man's voice became clearer now; it penetrated the air like a knife.

"We will not sleep," came a chilling reply. The voice had come from right at the back of the unmoving crowd. The man stared in the direction of it piercingly, his bright blue eyes shining through the dark. "We cannot sleep," the chilling voice continued.

"You must!" The man was getting desperate now. He looked down at the stranger. The crowd began to advance, free from his gaze. "Run," he said firmly. The stranger did not need telling twice. She began to run as fast as she could, blind in the dark as she headed for the exit. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she felt sick to the stomach but she knew she couldn't stop until she was far away from there.

The man resumed his gaze upon the crowd but he was too late. His screams filled the musty air as they pounced upon him like predators. The owner of the chilling voice leapt at his face, gouging at his eyes with sharp bloodstained fingernails. As blood poured out of his eye sockets and ran down his face like a red waterfall, the man staggered backwards limply. He attempted to beat his attackers off him with a feeble wave of his arm but next second he cried out in agony as another member of the bloodthirsty crowd leapt upon him pulling at his arm. The man tried to fight back but it was no use, he felt an immense searing pain just above his shoulder and with terror he realised his arm was being torn from its very socket. He made another attempt to get away from them but slipped in the puddle of his own wet blood and fell crashing to the floor where the crowd descended on him like a pack of starving vultures.

The stranger heard his screams, but there was nothing she could do. She sprinted out of the metal warehouse and towards a pink Rolls Royce that lay parked just ahead. Her chest was heaving up and down as her pace quickened.

Jac's father held her hand tightly but warmly. He was staring at her with pride brimming in his ancient eyes.

"How did you come to this eh Jac?" He said gently. Jac looked at him nervously. She felt ashamed as her father's pride pierced her.

"I don't know what you see in me," she said in a hollow voice full of contempt for herself.

"I'm your father. I see you as you are," her father said squeezing her hand kindly.

"I am a horrible person!" Jac shouted unable to keep it inside herself any longer. She broke away from her father's warm grip. "I bully, I oppress, I take out my problems on everyone else!"

"You're only human," her father told her sternly.

"Am I?" Jac questioned. "I'm not sure of that." Her eyes were flashing with emotion as everything she had kept hidden deep inside her came pouring out to the one person she knew wouldn't judge her. But this made her feel worse. She wanted him to be angry, for his pride to disappear and to tell her she was just a stupid little girl. "I'm a coward!" Jac finished with a heavy breath.

"You are anything but a coward," her father told her. He stared at her, his eyes giving her a look that only a father can give their daughter.

"Then why do I run at the first sign of trouble?" Jac demanded desperately.

"Because you're scared," he said. "It's not a sign of cowardice Jac...you're just terrified."

"But I don't want to be scared any longer!" Jac shrieked. "I hate feeling like everybody's judging me, waiting for me to mess up and ruin my life!" She was making expressive gestures with her hands as she spoke. "And do you know what the sad fact is?" she said, her face apoplectic with the pent-up rage inside her heart. "Do you know what the one sad fact of my miserable, pathetic life is?" Her chest heaved as she tried to regain control of her spilling emotions. She glared into the night as her ragged breathing started to calm. Turning back to face her father, she said: "I've already ruined my life. Everything I had, that was ever good, I chewed up and spat right out." Her eyes were watering. "I threw everything away. I always do."

All through her rant, her father had watched her, not moving, never saying a word. He just listened, as a father should, taking in everything she said. He didn't miss a thing but as his daughter spoke he could feel a sharp twinge of regret in his heart. He had died when Jac was very young and as his eyes took in the beautiful shape of his grown-up daughter, he felt nothing but regret for missing the best years.

"I am so sorry," he told her. Jac didn't need to see his expression to realise how heartfelt he meant this.

"You have nothing to be sorry for dad," Jac said in a much calmer voice.

"I should have been there for you," he said sorrowfully.

"You didn't ask to get cancer," Jac replied her lips quivering at the memory of her father's painful demise. It had been a horrifyingly long and drawn out death; Jac remembered all too well how she had watched her father literally waste away in front of her.

"I should have tried harder to fight it," her father said sadly. He felt ashamed at how much he had lost.

"If there's one thing I do know," Jac said, her eyes full of determination. "It's that you fought your hardest for all of us...for me."

"I'm just so sorry, I wasn't there for you..."

"At least you didn't see what a hash I made of my life," Jac said, looking at the floor.

"You haven't. Look at what you've become, a cardiothoracic consultant! I am so proud of you Jac, and I always will be." Jac attempted a faint smile. "We all have our battles in life. I lost mine," he began, "don't lose yours."

"I'm afraid I already have," Jac said in a quaking voice.

"Not until you draw your last breath will that be true," her father said looking directly at her. "You're my daughter and I believe in you." Jac's insides were full of butterflies, flapping around like overexcited children, never settling down.

"Then what do I do?" She sounded desperate as she looked to her father to give her the answers he had been unable to give in life.

"I can't give you all the answers, I wish I could, but I can only guide you." He appeared crestfallen at his own inability to give his daughter everything she needed. "You have to find the answers within yourself."

"All I can see is darkness. There is no hope left."

"There is always hope Jac. Never give up on hope for when the world seems its darkest, hope is often all we have and all we need to lead us into the light."

"But all I see is everyone being better off without me," Jac said with a tragic sigh.

"Look deep inside yourself," her father instructed. "Look past the hurt and stare into your very soul, only then will you see the answers you seek." Jac embraced her father. "What's that for eh?" He asked, smiling.

"Nothing," Jac said. "I just had to do it." Their happiness was to be short-lived, however. As they hugged the terrible sound filled the air. It was as if something was being torn apart and as they stared in horror at the ice around them, they saw that it was cracking. Jac clung onto her father tightly, her mind full of terror.

"Don't let go Jac, whatever you do, do not let go!" Her father was holding her tightly to his chest, trying his best to protect her. The crack in the ice was growing deeper and deeper with every passing moment. Jac's heart was thumping. Boom boom. Boom boom. Boom boom. With a sickeningly loud crunch, the ice directly beneath them shattered, plunging them both in to the freezing depths of the lake...

TO BE CONTINUED