Sanctus

Chapter 145

Distant sounds began to penetrate the woolly numbness of Arkadian’s head: muffled shouts from urgent voices; the squeak of rubber soles on hard floors. He tried and failed to open his eyes, the lids too heavy to shift, so he lay there and listened, letting his senses warm up while the dull ache in his chest and shoulder blossomed into pain.

He took a deep breath and concentrated all his energy on opening his eyes. His lids parted for a split second, then he screwed them back shut.

It was bright: painfully bright. A negative image of what he had seen was now seared on his retina: a chequerboard outline of a suspended ceiling; a rail over to one side with a curtain hanging from it. He realized he was in a hospital.

Then he remembered why.

He lurched forward, trying to sit up, but a firm hand held him down. ‘Whoa there. .’ a male voice said. ‘You’re OK; I’m just checking your wound. What happened to you?’

Arkadian struggled to remember. Rolled a dry tongue round his mouth. ‘Shot,’ he said eventually.

‘That’s for sure.’

‘No.’ Arkadian shook his head and instantly regretted it. Took more breaths until the bed stopped lurching beneath him. ‘Was given a shot of. . something. . Don’t know what. .’

‘OK. We’ll run some bloods; we might have to sedate you again before fixing you up.’

‘No!’ Arkadian shook his head again, the spinning less severe this time. ‘Need to call in.’ He forced his eyes back open, squinting against the glare of the emergency room. ‘Need to warn them.’

The curtain swished open and a short, compact woman in a white coat marched in and grabbed a clipboard from the end of the trolley. ‘Sleeping beauty awakes,’ she said, the fringe of her ash blonde hair falling round her face as she read the paramedic’s notes. A badge pinned to her pocket identified her as Dr Kulin. She looked up at the wound. ‘How is it?’

‘Clean,’ the nurse said. ‘Still wet, but nothing major was hit. Bullet passed right through.’

‘Good.’ She dropped the notes back into their holder. ‘Pressure dress it and move him out. We’re going to need this space any second.’

‘Why?’ Arkadian asked.

She looked puzzled. ‘Why do we need to pressure dress it? Because you’ve been shot and you’re still bleeding.’

‘No, why do you need the space?’

Dr Kulin glanced down at the badge tucked into Arkadian’s belt by the paramedics. It was standard procedure. That way, when casualties from both sides of any violent encounter ended up in the same hospital, the good guys got seen to first.

‘There’s been an explosion. We’ve got numerous incoming. And from what I’ve heard of their injuries, Inspector, they’ll all outrank your gunshot wound.’

‘Where?’ Arkadian already knew the answer.

A commotion outside snatched the doctor’s attention. ‘By the old town wall,’ she said, jerking back the curtain. ‘Close to the Citadel.’

Arkadian caught a glimpse of a trolley rolling quickly past. On it was a man, drenched in blood, dressed exactly like the one he’d examined in the morgue two days previously.

Arkadian closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of blood and disinfectant. He suddenly felt more tired than he had ever done. Whatever he’d hoped to prevent had already happened. He wished to God he could speak to his wife and listen to her soft voice rather than the chaos unfolding around him. He wanted to tell her he loved her, and hear her say the same. He wanted to tell her that he was OK, that she shouldn’t worry and that he’d be coming home soon. Then he thought of Liv Adamsen, and Gabriel, and the woman in the warehouse — and wondered if any of them were still alive.