Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer (Nightmares Trilogy)

Nightmares

of

Caitlin Lockyer

DEMELZA CARLTON

This book is dedicated to Johanna.

Never underestimate the power of dreams.

Especially when they follow you to the toilet.

Copyright © 2012 Demelza Carlton

Lost Plot Press

All rights reserved.

They took her away from me.

I mumbled a protest through the haze of pain and exhaustion that had turned me into little more than a zombie. I'll never be able to watch a zombie movie again without remembering this night, I thought.

"It's all right – we have to move her somewhere else to take care of her. She's hurt worse than you," I was told. "We need to treat you, too. There's a gunshot wound in your shoulder."

I couldn't remember how long it had been since I'd last slept, so it took a few seconds to register what she'd said. Gunshot wound
. My shoulder. Oh yeah, it hurt. I couldn't help her 'til that was sorted. Hospital staff would take care of her until I was okay.

The pain began to dull as a local anaesthetic took effect. I turned to look at the mess of blood my right shoulder had become. The smell of disinfectant jolted my brain out of sleep and most of the way to alertness.
All that blood and it was barely more than a graze. A few stitches would sort that.

One of the hospital staff held a clipboard while she spoke to two police officers just out of earshot. She nodded, looked grim and came over. She started firing questions at me.

"Name?"

"Nathan Miller."

"What happened?"

"I was shot."

"By whom?"

"A homicidal lunatic with a gun and bad aim."

The next question came tersely.
"Her name?"

"Caitlin Lockyer."

"What happened to her?"

"Looks like someone tried to kill her."

"Was that you?"

"No, it was the homicidal lunatic and his mates, for all I know."

"What's your relationship to her?"

"Friend."
What the hell, I thought. She'd probably agree with that, for the moment, at least.

"There.
Done." The nurse stitching up my shoulder was cheerful, glad to be finished with me. "Now I'll show you to your room – just overnight..."

"I want to see her."

"She's still in Emergency."

"I want to see her," I repeated.

"Only family are allowed. She's in a critical condition..."

"
Which is why I want to see her."

"But you can't
..."

"Take me to where she is, now."

Nurse Grim was reluctant, but Caitlin wasn't that far away. Instead of a normal Emergency Department curtained cubicle, they'd put her in the room for child patients, with cheerful pictures and mobiles on the ceiling. Small though she was, I hadn't made the mistake of thinking she was a child.

Nurse Grim stopped to speak in a low voice to an orderly outside. I accosted a nurse on her way out of Caitlin's room.

"How is she?"

"She's fighting us. Calls out for someone and tries to get up. We can't do anything for her unless she calms down."

I glanced inside and saw someone with a syringe, advancing on her. "Please – don't hurt her!" I blurted out.

The orderly blocked my path. "You're not family
..."

"I'm the one she's calling for."

"You said your name was Nathan Miller, and..."

"But she doesn't know that." I pushed past him.

The syringe-wielding nurse stared at me, her mouth open. Caitlin struggled to sit up and grabbed the syringe from the distracted nurse. "Don't let them hurt me again!" For an instant, I saw her face. Her eyes had hell in them.

I approached her slowly, looking deep into her tortured eyes, avoiding looking at the injuries that caused her so much pain. "I'm here. We're in a hospital and they're trying to help you." I kept my voice calm and steady.

She sagged back against the bed as she took this in, her eyes never leaving mine. The syringe rolled across the floor as it slipped from her fingers.

"
So... tired," she managed to say, "but... scared to sleep. What if... I wake up... you're gone and I'm still... there... with them?" She didn't look away, even as her eyes filled with tears. "Please."

"I'll be here. When you wake up I'll be here. Here, in hospital with you," I promised recklessly, forcing myself to smile as I reached to touch her hair.

"Thank you," she murmured, closing her eyes.

I waited until I was sure she was asleep before I said anything else. "You cut her hair off. She won't like that." Her long hair was now a short, dark cap that curled slightly around her ears.

"She didn't," came the nurse's voice behind me. "That must have been what woke her up. But we couldn't leave it – it was matted with blood and sand. We had to clean the wounds on her back. I've never seen so many ulcers, especially ones that bad. It's a good thing she's unconscious for this, because those must really hurt..."

She talked as she worked. I tried to keep my eyes firmly fixed on Caitlin's sleeping face, so I didn't see the extent of her injuries, but occasionally my eyes would stray to the subject of the nurse's running commentary. Every time I wanted to close my eyes in horror at the thought of what Caitlin had been through, but I didn't. Instead, I dragged my eyes back to her face.

When the nurse had finished with her now-cooperative patient, she said, "Now I'm taking her up to her room..."

"And I'm taking you to yours," an orderly behind me chimed in.

"If you think you're taking us to separate rooms, you've got another thing coming."

"The police want you under guard
..."

"And she won't feel safe without some sort of protection. We'll share."

As they wheeled her bed out, I followed, along with a police officer I hadn't noticed earlier.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asked abruptly.

I shrugged. My eyes were on Caitlin, asleep on the hospital bed.

"Look, you found an injured girl on a beach and got her to hospital, probably saving her life. That sort of thing can get you a medal. But there are a few suspicious things that just don't add up. You were walking down a beach in winter at 2 am. You got into the ambulance with her. She refused all medical assistance until you were there. There was a dead body on the beach, not far from where you found her, shot with the gun you were holding. And she was last seen three weeks ago, speaking to someone in a car just like yours."

I shrugged again. "Look, I've already told two different officers this, but I can tell you, too, if you like. I couldn't sleep so I went for a drive, then decided to take a walk on the beach. I saw a couple going for it near where I'd parked my car when I got back, so I decided to take a longer walk and come back a bit later.

"When I returned later, they were still there and I tried to keep my distance from them, but I heard her telling him to stop. When I gathered he wasn't stopping and she was getting increasingly upset about it, I went over and asked if they were all right.

"She asked me to help her and the guy told me to fuck off. He pulled a gun out and started waving it around and threatening me. I dived for the gun and got into a fight with him. I managed to knock the gun out of his hands and I didn't see where it landed.

"The next thing I knew, there were gunshots and I threw myself to the ground, but he didn't. She'd gotten hold of the gun and shot him. I'm lucky she didn't hit me, her aim was so bad.

"I told her that he wasn't going to hurt her again and tried to take the gun off her, but she wouldn't let go until I promised they wouldn't hurt her again. So I did."

I took a deep breath and went on.

"I rang an ambulance and waited with her. The police turned up, someone got mixed up and figured I was the one responsible, possibly because I was holding the gun.

"They let me carry her to the ambulance. Then one of your guys shot me, or tried to, but he only grazed me and managed to shoot her instead. The last thing she said before she passed out was, '
You promised...'" I gritted my teeth, remembering what she'd looked like as she said it. "I got in the ambulance because I was carrying her, I stayed because I'd been shot and I'd promised.

"She's been beaten and worse by the dead guy,
then when I tried to help her we both got SHOT by the police who were supposedly trying to help her. About the only person who hasn't hurt her is me, so she doesn't trust anyone else. Damn it, your guys shot her!

"And yes, I'm staying. I found some random girl on a beach, fought off her attacker and helped to get her to hospital, while getting shot in the process and winding up in hospital myself. So I'm sticking around because I want to know she's okay. If you were in my place, I imagine you'd want to know whether you'd wasted your time, too." I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

He looked unmoved. "You have no witnesses to confirm your story before the police showed up? Anyone you told you were going for a walk, anyone who saw you?"

I nodded toward Caitlin. "She saw me." After thinking a moment, I added, "My doctor knows I have trouble sleeping. He gave me something called
Temaze, but I only use it as a last resort."

"And how do you explain that your car was seen when she disappeared?"

I narrowed my eyes. "My car? I drive a red Mercedes. I know it's an unusual car, but I bet it's not the only one in Perth. You know it was my car? Someone saw the licence plates of my car?"

The cop looked abashed. "Okay, no, we don't know what the number plate was. We don't know it was your car. But it is a hell of a coincidence, all the same."

I took a deep breath and laughed. "Look mate, do you think she'd trust me if I was the guy who'd raped her?" More soberly, I continued: "Hell of a coincidence – more like someone's trying to set me up for this."

He looked indecisive for a moment, before replying in a low voice, "If someone's trying to set you up, they'll need to set you up with accomplices. Her medical report says that she's been raped repeatedly by at least four of them, probably including the dead one on the beach. And judging by her injuries, they've been at it for at least a couple of weeks. Three of them are still out there. When she wakes up she might be able to tell us who they are. But I never told you."

Red Mercedes.

They had a red Mercedes.

Hit me, pulled me in, drugged me.

Eyes like saucers. P
ervert.

Sorry. Oh God, so sorry.

Let me go, you bastard.

Fighting the drugs.

C
lawing at my throat.

Fighting the darkness
.

T
he pain in the darkness.

Fight them.

Don't let them win.

I woke in daylight and glanced at my watch. Early afternoon. My shoulder ached and more besides. It must have been time for more pain medication. Please, please let there be more pain medication.

A smiling woman set a tray of lunch on the table next to my bed. She returned to the trolley for Caitlin's lunch, which she placed hesitantly on the table beside her.

"One of the volunteers should be along shortly, with the book and magazine trolley. Your roommate's on the front cover of today's paper – you might want to keep a copy for her."

I thanked the woman.

"When she wakes up, can you tell her I've given her today's and tomorrow's menu, so she can pick what she wants? Yours is on your tray, too." She lowered her voice. "The ice cream is really good."

I smiled and thanked her again as she left, my eyes straying to Caitlin. I slid out of bed and made my way over to her.

She was tucked tightly in her bed, still asleep, her face and hair all that showed. She looked as if she hadn't moved since we were brought here early this morning. With the amount of sedative she'd been given last night, she wasn't going to be awake for lunch today, nor dinner – I figured her first hospital meal wouldn't be earlier than breakfast tomorrow. I had until then to work out what I wanted to say to her when she woke up.

I headed past her, to the bathroom we shared, before I went back to sit on my bed to eat lunch for breakfast at lunchtime. I didn't taste any of it, from the first bite 'til I'd finished the ice
cream.

When did I last eat? I
wondered, realising that I couldn't remember. No wonder I'd been hungry. I'd last had a drink more than twelve hours ago, a sip on the beach, before I gave the rest of the can to Caitlin.

Almost without thinking, I pushed myself off my bed and settled into the visitor's chair beside her, so I could see her face. For the first time, I felt self-conscious that I was only wearing my shorts. They were the only item of clothing I had left – I'd handed the rest over to the police, her blood on everything else. I'd have to call my sister today and ask her to bring some fresh clothes, before Caitlin woke up. I didn't want to frighten her any more than she had been already.

"You'd have to be the first pretty girl I'd rather woke up to me fully clothed than in just my underwear," I told her. I laughed quietly.