his temple ...
Good God, he had been attacked ! And by what ? He’d never heard of a weapon that could— Was it a paranormal ? Why in the world—?!
Dad! It must have something to do with Dad !
His breath burned his dry throat and his pulse rushed in his ears so loudly that he almost missed the low buzzing that drifted in from outside the room. He heard a swish , and the hospital sounds grew momentarily louder. Someone had opened a door.
"You’re awake, Mister Davison," a female voice stated the obvious. "How are you—"
"The police!" Steve interrupted. "I need to talk to the police right away!"
"Mister Davison, first things first—"
"Bull shit ‘first things first,’ " Steve snapped, again probing the bandage around his head, over his eyes. The woman — a nurse? — reached out to gently pull his hand away, but Steve batted her fingers fiercely the moment they made contact.
"Mister Davi—"
"I’m not kidding around here, lady," Steve growled, throwing the sheets back and moving to get off the bed. The facts that he was effectively blindfolded , had no idea where he was or where he was going, and would have to drag his IV-tethered hand in order to get there, never crossed his mind. "My dad’s an important guy, and ..."
Steve fell silent as the door hissed open a second time. "Hello, Steve," a man said.
The part of Steve that wasn’t getting caught up in blind panic tried to place the voice. He’d definitely heard it before, many times, but in his present state he couldn’t be sure ...
"It’s Alan, Steve," the man said.
Of course! Alan Russell, his father’s ... well, he was the Vice-President of Davison Electronics for years. Steve didn’t know exactly what his new position was after the business conversion.
"Alan," Steve gasped. He relaxed a little — but only a little. "Can you tell me where I am? I mean, I know I’m in a hospital, but I need to talk to the police, or the PCA . I think I was attacked by—"
"A paranormal," Alan finished for him.
Steve paused. The direction of Alan’s voice had changed; he sounded closer and lower — probably sitting next to the bed now. And Alan’s flat tone made him even more uneasy, if that were possible.
"Right," he pressed on. "I have to report it. Where are my parents? I’m surprised Mom didn’t rush in the moment I—"
Alan shuffled in his seat, and a sound not unlike a grunt escaped him. "Doctor, would you excuse us?"
"Mister Russell," the doctor said ...
all right, so nurse was a sexist guess
"... my patient has just regained consciousness after two days..."
two days?!
"... and we need to determine whether—"
"I understand," Alan cut in. "But ... Steve and I need a few minutes. Alone, please."
I don’t like that, I don’t like that haunted tone in his voice
After a moment, the doctor agreed, "Fine, but I’m not going far. Try not to ..." But her voice trailed off, and she left the room without finishing the thought.
"Alan, what is going on? Why are you here? Where are my parents ?!"
"Steve ..." Alan began. A pause, then another almost-grunt. "Steve ... Steve, I, uh, have some bad news. I wish I didn’t have to spring it on you ..."
Steve began to lose it — he could feel the last strings of his self-control snapping like torn ligaments. The numbness beneath the bandage was no longer a cool sensation, but a white-hot void behind his closed eyelids. Sweat stuck the hospital gown to his body, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked in a way that might have embarrassed him under other circumstances. " Where are my parents?! "
"Steve," Alan answered in a hushed whisper that pierced Steve’s soul in a way he would remember for as long as he lived, "your family has been murdered."
it’s a joke, it’s a sick joke
are you sure about that, Stevey boy, are you really sure ?
"Is this supposed to be