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When she crossed from the gas pumps to the mini-mart, the wind began to kick and moan. Leaves, shredded from trees, skittered and scraped across the pavement. The lights of the mart glared, almost burned her eyes. Through the glass she could see nothing but that violent light.
When she opened the door, the hinges shrieked, and the air inside went thick and hot.
When she saw, through that hard light, the man with his back to her, her heart began to thump, bringing pain to her chest. Breath, thin and weak, began to whistle through her throat as she laid a hand on her weapon.
Her mind screamed:Run!
But he turned. He had no face, just a skeletal mask inside a black hood. When he swung out, and the scythe he carried struck her chest, she reared up in bed, gasping.
She pressed her hands to her galloping heart, felt blood pouring through her fingers.
But when she looked down, panicked, her hands were dry. Trembling, but dry.
Struggling to breathe through it, she lay back down. For a moment, she saw herself floating above, as she had when her heart had stopped beating.
Her own voice sounded in her head.
Sometimes, dying’s easier than living.
Maybe, she thought. Maybe. But she’d live. The dreams would pass, and she’d live.
Her whole family arrived at noon, with her father leading the way.
“You’re all checked out, bags are in the car. Ready to get out of this joint?”
“More than.”
Her sister, once again, pushed a wheelchair.
“I can walk. They want me to walk.”
“This is the way out. Hospital policy.”
No whining, she reminded herself. And settled into the wheelchair.
They stopped by the nurse’s station to say goodbye, and say thanks.
“You’ve come a long way in a short time,” Angie told her. “The mark of a good patient.”
Sloan let out a laugh. “A good patient? Me?”
“Yes, actually a very good patient. You followed instructions, even when you didn’t want to. Now keep doing that.”
“We’ll make sure she does,” her mother said. “We’ll never be able to thank you enough, you and everyone, for taking such good care of our girl.”
“It’s what we do. You’ve got a real nice family, Sloan. That’s going to help you the rest of the way.”
Drea wheeled her into the elevator. Not for another X-ray, another test, but to go home.
Outside, she drew in the chilly air like perfume.
“No hospital smell! Just air, cold fall air.”
Getting to her feet, she did a happy dance in her head. Drea wheeledthe chair back in while her father went to get the car. Her mother stood, an arm around her.
“I could walk to the car.”
“It’s cold, baby. Indulge us a little this first day. I know you have to push some, and I promise we won’t let you slack off. But we’ve all been waiting for this day, too. You’re coming home.”