“You scared me!” gasped Sam. “I’m so glad it’s you. I’ve just seen the news. What’s going on? Is my brother ok?”
Harden said nothing. He just stood in the doorway and looked around.
“James. James Blake. He followed you up to the 36th floor. Emma Venton was up there. Is he ok?”
“Where are your parents?” barked Harden.
Sam felt taken aback. Harden suddenly seemed different to the kind, courteous man who had spoken to her earlier. She noticed he had a bad cut on his temple.
“They’re at home,” replied Sam, in a small voice. “They’re preparing for my move. They’ll be back later.”
“We’re moving you now,” stated Harden. “DI Stannard will be taking care of you.” He indicated the woman with red hair.
“Now?” echoed Sam. “But I’m not ready. You said tomorrow.”
“Change of plan,” said Stannard.
Sam noticed how Stannard had an almost identical cut and bruise on her temple. What was wrong with them? Then she realised that she herself was trembling.
“Has something happened? Am I in danger? I saw the news. What about all my things? My cards, my trophies, my clothes? I need my mum here to help me.”
Harden didn’t answer.
“Are you stupid or something? Can’t you talk?” Sam surprised herself with her rudeness.
Harden and Stannard just stood looking at her, as though they were waiting for something to happen. Seconds later, Nurse Winter entered the room. She looked like she was sleepwalking, the same as the patients who had kidnapped Sam the other night.
Sam pressed the panic alarm beside her bed and started dialling her dad’s mobile number. Harden snatched the phone out of her hand and stamped on it. Sam looked on aghast. Her lifeline was reduced to a mess of broken plastic!
In the Blake’s four-bedroom house, on a quiet road not far from Ealing Broadway, Roger Blake was on the phone. He was talking to his father, Larry. Yvonne was busily packing suitcases.
Larry Blake had a perennially chipper, positive attitude which sometimes grated on Roger’s nerves, but on this occasion he was very grateful for it. Larry Blake was retired from the United States Air Force. He was an engineer, born in Chicago, who had been stationed in East Anglia in the 1950s and 1960s, where he met and married local girl Barbara Edmunds. Roger loved his father, but he always felt the need to remind him that he had retired from the service twenty years ago.
“You shouldn’t have left them there, Rog.” Roger Blake sighed at the criticism in his father’s voice. “Should’ve taken them home, there and then.”
“Dad I– Dad– Dad–” Roger knew it was impossible to interrupt his father when he was in full flow. “Dad. I couldn’t just do that. Sam’s still got both legs in plaster and I need to make sure she is well enough to be moved.”
“Ok. But I think you should get back there as soon as possible, Rog. I’m worried that... someone might come for them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just a feeling. I made enquiries with some old friends. I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. I’m just saying that the longer they stay there, the more likely it is someone will find out about them, and that would put them in danger. I want you all to get down here as soon as you can.”
“But why them? Why now? And why didn’t it happen to me? Doesn’t make sense.”
“It might do. The car bomb...” Larry Blake’s voice tailed off. “Somehow that may have caused the change. Fear, adrenalin, near-death experience. It all fits. And they may not be the only ones this has happened to. I can explain more when you are here.”
“We’ll be with you mid-morning tomorrow.”
There was a pause. Roger worried that his father may not have heard him.
“This policeman who’s arranging the transport. Do you trust him?” Larry asked.
“He seems to be on the level.”
“Then check your television. 24/7 Interactive News. Something is happening at the hospital.”
PC Nelson peered out of the mobile incident unit and couldn’t believe his eyes. Five police vans had driven into the hospital car park, and teams of riot police were assembling in front of the A&E and Outpatient entrances to the hospital. News crews from every station were shuffling around with shoulder-mounted cameras, getting dramatic shots of the assembling crowd-control teams. Nelson saw Jasmin Sharma waving her arms dramatically in front of a camera. Nelson grabbed his radio and ran over to the assembled throng. He grabbed the nearest officer by the arm. He didn’t recognise him.
“What’s going on, mate?”
“Security alert,” the officer replied, businesslike.
“Why the riot gear?” asked Nelson.
“Chief’s orders. We’re putting the hospital in lockdown, aren’t we? No one to be allowed in.”
Nurse Winter released the brake on Sam’s bed so it could be moved. Sam was feeling an unpleasant sense of déjà vu.
“Stop it!” she demanded. Nurse Winter showed no signs of stopping. Instead, she produced a syringe from her apron pocket and leaned forward to give Sam an injection. Sam grabbed the nurse’s arm and flung the girl back across the room. Nurse Winter crashed into the wall and looked stunned. She dropped the needle on the floor.
Stannard produced a pair of handcuffs. She and Harden marched forward to try and place them on Sam’s wrists, but Sam was too fast and too strong. She grabbed hold of Stannard’s outstretched arm, and with her free hand, gave the woman a shove that sent her sprawling back against Nurse Winter.
No sooner had Stannard been disposed of than Harden had taken her place. Sam was alarmed to see Harden actually draw back his arm to strike her. It was a horrible moment, as, for all his gruffness, she knew that the policeman was a decent and kindly man, who had been so protective of her earlier. He brought his hand down to hit her but she blocked it with her forearm. Harden was rocked back on his heels. Sam had barely felt the blow.
Even though Sam had no clue as to what was going on in the hospital, she knew that these people were no longer themselves. It was like an Invasion of the Body Snatchers type thing. Nurse Winter was back on her feet now and brandishing the syringe once more. This was impossible. They were relentless.
Sam didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t run away. Ironic, given how fast a runner she was. Could she knock them out? She was worried that in a panic, she might somehow accidentally set fire to them. That would be terrible. She was sure these people meant her no harm really. There was no way she could hurt them.
As if realising what a surprisingly formidable opponent Sam was, Harden, Stannard and Nurse Winter regrouped and started advancing on the girl in a staggered line, looking to outflank her. Stannard started to move round the side of the bed, Harden stayed at the nearside, while Nurse Winter approached from behind him with the needle. Sam kept track of all three. If she had to, would she use her fire power?
She clicked her fingers to summon up the flame. Nothing happened.