Chapter 92
“Iris…”, I heard
Jack. Yes, this was Jack, but what were we doing? Where were we?
I opened my eyes slowly. He was standing beside my bed, and this bed – I immediately knew – was not mine. I looked at my arms and saw a fluid being infused into me with a needle, a drop at a time. I turned my head slowly, the room swirled. Then I saw Avery, her features fuzzy but recognizable.
“I had to call 911 and have them bring you to the hospital”, she explained
“What happened exactly?”, I asked with a furred voice
“You didn’t feel well, I drove you home and all of a sudden you passed out”, she told me
I began to remember.
“For how long have I been unconscious? What time is it?”, I asked
The day was bright and the light seeped through the windows, its intensity sliced by white shades. It could have been 10 am or 4 pm, it was impossible for me to tell. Avery pointed at a clock on the wall. 5.15, it said. I hadn’t noticed the clock before, although I would have sworn I had looked into that direction when I woke up.
“I had a strange dream, you know…”, I begun
“What did you dream?”, asked Jack, caressing my forehead
“McMurrich was in her office, she insisted that I remember what I ate. I told her I had a chocolate bar before leaving FoodTech. Analyze it, she told me, but then she wouldn’t say why…I woke up before she told me why…”
Jack stopped his hand on my forehead, looking at me with the worried expression of a mother who just realized her kid has very high temperature.
“What?”, I asked, and since he wouldn’t reply I turned to Avery.
Her eyes were bugged, and she looked at me with a clouded face.
“What’s happening guys?”, I asked again
“Well, what McMurrich’s ghost told you makes a lot of sense”, Avery said at last
“Why? What do you mean with McMurrich’s ghost, I was just talking about a random dream…”, I asked, but even before Avery spoke the nightmarish vision of what had happened began forming in my mind
“Why?”, I repeated, the despair resounding in the three letters and breaking my voice
Avery produced a tape recorder from a black bag she had laid in a corner. Still crouching, she raised her eyes and looked at Jack, asking for an answer to a question I didn’t know. He stood there looking at her with a dark expression, without moving.
“Mark Gill confessed”, Avery said at last, pushing on her knee to get up
“Did he kill McMurrich?”, I asked
“Do you want to listen to this?”, she replied, holding the recorder in her hand
My head was spinning and a lump tightened my stomach. I nodded slowly. Yes, I replied in silence, let me hear about this. Yes, go ahead and tell me, I want to know how my game has produced a lethal discovery, which now gnaws on my wasted body and my exhausted mind. Every suicide knows how he gets to end his days, why shouldn’t I?