Note: For those who still have not lost the patience with me - thanks for sticking around :)


Part 51

POV – Gill

Consciousness returns together with excruciating pain. Each breath is an agony. I'm covered in a sticky liquid. Instinctively I know it is a blood. The smell makes me nauseous.

Sickeningly sweet taste in the mouth is not helping. The pungent smell very similar to the one of ether hits my nostrils.

Chloroform!

That explains almost allergic swell and burning sensation in the throat. If the tumefaction goes any further, I might suffocate.

My face is stiff, jolts of pain run through the head. The abdomen hurts like it was split open by a grenade. My legs have lost any feeling. Their numbness should scare me, but I have no energy to worry. Strangely there is no fear, just a hope this pre-death agony will end soon.

The place is damp and cold. Frosty draught is chilling up to the bones.

The air is heavy, like I'm somewhere deep underground. Oxygen deprivation is taking its toll. I keep falling into a murky feverish void filled with mushy purple flashes. This trance like state of semi-consciousness is better than the reality with its penetrating pain.

POV – Rader

"Where the hell did you two disappear?" Bennett's thunderous baritone splits the air as soon as I enter the office, "And where the hell is Lightman?"

Before I can answer, the man commands, "Well, it doesn't matter. Let's go!"

The question 'where' dies on my lips seeing the distraught expression on his face. The tie around his neck is lose, top buttons of the shirt are open. Droplets of the water run down square face. I track their descent up to the collar of the sweat-ridden shirt. The focus on small meaningless details is a trick of the mind I use to keep sanity during the most horrendous moments of my life.

"They found a body fitting her description," Bennett doesn't have the heart to say Foster's name, "thirty-six knife wounds… died around an hour ago…"

I hear the words, but my mind refuses to accept their implication.

POV – Ria

I know something is off, but no one tells us what is going on. Bennett, Wheels and Jack stormed off ten minutes ago without any explanations. I would love to think they have a solid lead on Gill's whereabouts, but the haunted look on their faces told otherwise.

All I can do is to hope and pray that for once I'm wrong.

POV – Jack

We walk down yet another long, artificially lit corridor of the morgue. Bennett's words keep rolling in my head, but I refuse to believe them until I see the body.

Death has been in my life from early age. I witnessed the murder of my mother and brutal assassination of my brother. Anger and thirst for revenge drove me for years. I have been attacked and I have killed without tiniest bit of remorse. If it wasn't for Cathie, my whole live could have gone to hell. I managed to escape, to leave it all behind, even come to some kind of peace, but this attained balance is cracking with each step bringing me closer to the destination.

I thought I have seen it all, thought that nothing could rattle me, but was wrong, so wrong.

Who is this woman for me? What did we have in common aside from the work, constant arguments and fights? One night of passion and desire which she regretted right after? Why does her image keep rolling in my mind – the warmth of her smile and the depth of her sadness, the endearing fragility of her soul and admirable courage of the spirit? She was there for years, but I never really noticed it. At times I hated her guts, mostly because of her uncanny ability to get under my skin. I admired her levelheadedness and diplomacy, but would never admit it aloud. She is the only woman I have ever truly desired and now she is gone.

It is my fault.

I didn't manage to keep her safe. Ignoring her calls that fateful day, I unknowingly signed her death warrant.

I will never forgive myself for not listening to my intuition earlier in the afternoon. I should have made her stay, forced, if needed. Now it is too late.

The failure to save her will haunt me for the rest of my life.

The doors open.

"Over here," tall dressed in white man nods in our direction. My step falters as we approach the metallic cart with the body covered only by a white sheet of linen. My eyes fall on the sandy locks of hair breaking out from under the cover, the heart skips a beat.

I'm frozen in the moment unable to speak or move. It feels dragging on for an eternity, while in reality in mustn't be more than a mere minute.

"Are you ready?" The man asks. Ready? Ready for what? What should I be ready for? My mind has gone completely blank.

Bennett nods. Without looking around I know he is scared too. I feel this fear radiating through my skin, poisoning every molecule of my body, running through the veins mixing with the blood, landing on the particles of dust in the air that I breathe.

Good Lord, let it be anyone, but her.

Foster, Gillian, Gilz…

The sweetness of her lips on mine, the warmth of her palms on my skin, the tenderness of her smile, it cannot be gone. The despair gives a way to the rage, sweeping me of the feet like a hurricane.

Don't you dare to die on me!

Do you hear, do not dare!

It cannot end like this!

It will not end like this!

The sheet is drawn from the lifeless body like a verdict.

Her pale, lifeless face in front of my eyes is too much to bear.

I can't, I don't want to look and I run. Through the haze I barely register Bennett's thunderous voice sending darts to my back. I don't remember the empty corridors I must have crossed or the strange looks I must have gotten running like a madman through the building, getting my bearing back only once outside.

Desperate vail leaves my lips as I sank down on my knees right on the entrance steps.

Long forgotten thirst for revenge pulses heavily through my veins. The darkness I thought I buried long ago resurfaces with intensity I have never experienced before.

My fists clench from the rage swirling inside.

Whomever did this will pay, pay with his life.

It will be a long, tormenting death.

POV - Gill

Once again the consciousness greets me with its excruciating agony, but at least the head is clearer. Horror slowly creeps in as I realise this is not a nightmare.

My whole body is sore, but somehow I gather enough strength to open my eyes. It takes time to get used to the pitch-black darkness, but when I do, I wish the previous void would consume me for the sweet escape.

I'm lying in an awkward position on a stone cold floor. My right arm is twisted in an unnatural angle, the fingers are immobile. My head hurts like hell from even the tiniest movement.

The heavy weight crushing my legs looks like a human. Using my good arm as a leverage I lean down in crouched position and with almost inhuman effort turn the body over. Connor's distorted face comes into view and I almost pass out. The blood is still running from the open wound in his skull.

Pulling all my strength I try to get out from under the dead body, but to no avail. The fear inside me is like a caged animal trying to break free. I would have screamed in terror, if only could, but my throat has swollen even more. All that comes out is a hoarse whisper.

"It's ok, everything is going to be ok," I whisper soundlessly not sure whom I'm trying to convince.

Quick glance around the small space confirms my fears. There are no windows or any other escape aside from the heavy looking metal doors. The room itself looks more like a cave or carved in stone basement. I need to find something, anything that I could use as a weapon. Somehow I know that whomever did this, will be back.

I refuse go out without a fight!

Tbc