Free The Reviver by Seth Patrick Page B

ways. Something that he expected to be simple could overwhelm him, too much too fast, a gut-wrenching feeling of a ride he couldn’t afford to get off. And all the while, having to be ready to talk to the subject the instant it stopped.
    An image flashed: a bright sky from a summer long before. He tensed, waiting to see how the surge would go. Another image sparked, long grass in sand, a strong smell of the sea.
    And then it came in full and swamped him: pain, at first; anger there, but outweighed by the sorrow. Confusion, too. The surge grew, pictures and sounds and feelings, compressed and hurled at him. He felt his stomach lurch at the sense of speed, plunging down through the child’s mind. Not so bad, he thought and hoped, not so bad this time, and he held on as it peaked and fell away.
    His realized he’d been holding his breath. He let it go, and breathed deeply.
    He opened his eyes to find himself kneeling over the unchanged corpse of Nikki Wood. It was done.
    ‘She’s here,’ he said to a camera. Nikki’s corpse inhaled quietly – none of the dramatics of Alice Decker’s revival, just a trace of mucosal sounds. Jonah sensed nothing else with her – no other presence. He grimaced and put the thought from his head. His work could proceed.
    ‘My name is Jonah Miller, Nikki. Can you hear me?’
    An instant response, heartbreakingly gentle. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you know where you are?’
    ‘I died.’ Jonah was thrown for a moment by Nikki’s frankness. Children accepted this at least as readily as adults, their grasp of the situation often immediate, without denial or evasion.
    ‘That’s right, Nikki. I’m here to ask you some questions about how you died. Do you understand?’
    ‘Like Granny Mo.’ Her grandmother; the revival her parents had mentioned.
    ‘Yes, Nikki. Like Granny Mo. Can I ask you some questions?’
    ‘Yes. Is Mom here?’
    ‘You can talk to her when you’ve answered our questions. I promise.’ A promise he might not be able to keep.
    ‘OK.’
    He sensed she was disappointed. ‘Tell me what happened. Why did you come downstairs?’
    ‘I was asleep. I must have been sleepwalking again. I hate that, I wish I didn’t do that…’ She halted, silent. Jonah waited ten seconds.
    ‘Nikki?’ he said, a small prompt, and Nikki’s chest rose at once.
    ‘I woke up, standing in the living room. A man was going through the drawers in the sideboard. It was dark, he had a flashlight. He wasn’t even looking at what was in them. He just pulled out each drawer, took out the things inside and put them on the floor. He turned the drawer over and set it down too. Then he did the same with the next. I was afraid. He was being so quiet, I didn’t understand. I backed away.’
    She stopped but stayed silent. Jonah sensed it was fear, fear of the events that followed.
    He prompted her again, trying for warm authority. ‘Please, Nikki. Continue.’ A few seconds passed before she inhaled.
    ‘He heard me. I didn’t know what to do. He pointed the flashlight at me and said he would kill my parents if I made a noise. He told me to stand in the corner of the room and face away from him. I did. I heard him take another drawer out. I was crying. I tried to be quiet, but I peeked. He’d found my mom’s jewellery box. I didn’t want him to have it. It was Granny Mo’s. It’s very important to Mom.’
    She fell silent again.
    ‘You’re doing so well, Nikki. We’re nearly done.’
    ‘I told him to put it back, that it was important. He told me to be quiet. I was crying. He told me to stop, and it made me cry more. He stepped towards me and I was frightened and I went to run. He caught me and I tried to shout but his hand covered my mouth. I kicked out and he threw me. I hit my head hard on the wall.’
    Jonah heard Crenner whisper something to Ray Johnson: ‘Not a weapon. Maybe something on the wall.’
    Nikki continued. ‘My head hurt, and it went quiet. I felt so tired, and I went to the sofa