The Reviver (12 page)

And as she had smiled, he had felt the warmth of that smile flood him. It had buoyed him up for the day, and for the week, as he had listened to what he was taught, as he had observed the dead come back to a kind of brief life.

As he had learned what he was.

*   *   *

Sam Deering finally arrived as Jonah was finishing the dinner Dr Connelly had sent him.

‘Hey,’ Sam said, a broad smile that showed genuine relief.

Jonah looked up, his mouth full of dessert. He hurried to swallow. ‘Cookie dough ice cream, Sam. Just the thing for a not-quite coma.’

Sam pulled over a chair and sat. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m sorry. I fucked up.’

Sam frowned. ‘Damn right you did. I can’t believe you took the case at all after what I’d said. There was no need. Jason could have done it, and nothing came up the rest of the day.’

‘You weren’t too hard on Never, though? I talked him into it.’

‘I was disappointed, Jonah. I’d asked him to watch you, for exactly this reason. I know
you
’ – he prodded Jonah’s arm – ‘don’t know what’s good for you.’

Jonah lowered his voice. ‘The man I attacked … is he, uh, pressing charges or anything?’

Sam looked away as he replied. ‘After they pulled you off him, Bob Crenner took the man away for a few words.’

‘To talk him out of it?’

‘No. To talk to him about Nikki Wood. What do you think happened, Jonah? How much do you remember?’

‘I’m still hazy … I can remember bits here and there.’ He thought about it for a moment – there was more, he knew, just out of reach, but it still wasn’t coming. ‘I think I had remnants. It just overwhelmed me.’

‘It was too soon for remnants, Jonah. You’d only just finished the revival.’

‘What, then?’

‘You thought you recognized his shoes – that was what you were shouting about. Do you know why?’

‘I can’t remember. Not for certain. But it felt like remnants, Sam. It was swamping me…’ He stopped. ‘And that doesn’t explain the attack.’

‘It was like Alice Decker, Jonah. Symptoms of burnout. Hallucination, severe fatigue. Anything could have been going on in your head.’

‘So the man’s not pressing charges?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Bob played a hunch. He interviewed the man. They examined his shoes. They found glass particles that matched the glass at the scene.’

Jonah was staring. ‘And?’

‘The guy confessed. Took Crenner to the jewellery he’d stolen.’

Jonah’s mind swirled. ‘What does that mean?’

‘You probably saw the shoes in the surge, that’s all.’

Then something else came to Jonah: ‘Nikki hadn’t seen his face, hadn’t mentioned his shoes during the revival. It must have been a remnant memory, Sam. What else could it have been?’ Things kept getting worse.

‘It’s unheard of, for it to happen so quickly.’

Jonah was looking at a month of leave, then assessment, and eventually another round of tests to improve his medication. ‘I recognized the shoes,’ he said, more details coming back to him. ‘His cough, too, and then his shoes. But it wasn’t just recall, Sam, it was more intrusive, like a…’

And then he fully remembered what it had been like, how it had felt when he’d attacked the man. Jonah looked Sam in the eye and remembered that strange sensation, of being outside himself, watching; and his certainty that somehow Nikki Wood had stayed with him. Not just memories or images overpowering his thought, the way remnants were supposed to occur. She’d been present, and worse – in control.
She’d forgotten about the shoes,
he thought.
She only remembered when she saw them again.

‘Jonah?’ There was a flicker of something on Sam’s face, something that worried Jonah. He was already facing weeks away from revivals. If he told Sam the truth, how long would he have to wait?

Would he even be allowed back?

‘I think I need to see Jennifer Early again.’

‘You need to rest up, come back fresh. Put all this out of your thoughts. I want you to stay in the hospital until tomorrow, then two more weeks away from work. I’ve arranged for you to see Stephanie Graves on Friday. She’s the nearest thing there is to an expert in remnants, and if there’s even a chance that’s what you had, we have to look into it.’

Stephanie Graves had been the senior Baseline medical doctor. When Baseline shut down, she’d continued in a university research position; very rarely FRS staff would be referred to her.

‘Pricey,’ said Jonah. He smiled.

‘She’ll see that you’re fine. And you can tell her whatever it is you won’t tell me.’

Jonah’s cheeks reddened. Sam could read him too well.

Sam continued: ‘She’ll have to give you the all-clear before you start revivals again. I’m gone in a week and a half, and I don’t want Hugo being talked into letting you back for any revivals until Stephanie says so.’

‘Sam, I—’

‘No
argument,
Jonah. You’ve shown you can’t be trusted to look after yourself. Now, as I said, you have to stay here overnight. I haven’t told Never you’re awake yet. He would’ve beaten me here. He can visit tomorrow and help you home.’

‘I’ll be glad to get out,’ Jonah replied, then added: ‘Sam?’

‘Yes?’

Part of Jonah wanted to tell him the truth. The part that was scared: scared by the knowledge that it hadn’t been him that had attacked that man. It had been Nikki Wood, and all Jonah could do was watch.

‘Nothing,’ he said instead. Sam would explain it away as hallucination or delusion; Jonah knew it was more than that.

After Sam left, Jonah lay back and thought about his other recent delusion: about Alice Decker, and where
that
truth lay.

9

Come morning, he woke with a persistent noise that intruded into his mind before sleep had fully left him. High-pitched tones, short sounds that were familiar. He opened his eyes.

‘It’s about bloody time you woke up,’ said Never from his left. Jonah turned his head to see Never playing on a handheld console, the source of the bleeps. Jabbing at it, Never paused his game, then looked up and grinned when he saw Jonah’s bleary face. He reached to one side, picked up a tiny US flag and waggled it. ‘Happy Fourth of July. How are we this morning?’

Jonah sat up and gave the question some real thought. ‘I think I’m fine. Maybe going insane, but fine. Did Sam tell you anything?’

‘He told me Bob and Ray got their man. He said you must have seen something in the surge, enough for you to recognize the guy. The stress of the revival and your chronic overwork led to the attack. Makes sense.’

‘I don’t…’ started Jonah. Then he paused, not wanting to put Never in an awkward spot. ‘I guess it does. Sam’s making me stay off work for two weeks, and off revivals until I get approval from Stephanie Graves.’

At the name, Never raised his eyebrows. ‘Right,’ he managed.

‘It’ll be fine,’ said Jonah, suddenly uneasy – Never Geary being lost for words was unnerving. The situation was serious, and Never clearly knew. ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

‘Whatever you want, mate,’ said Never. ‘Look, uh … Bob Crenner’s invited us out for a drink the night after tomorrow if you’re up for it. We’re meeting halfway, that ex-cop’s place in Stafford. He wants to celebrate the result, but only if you can be there too.’

Jonah’s face screwed up. ‘That’s not such a great idea.’

‘Oh, go on. You’re not forbidden from having a drink. I asked.’

‘You
asked?
’

‘I wanted to pre-empt excuses. Your doctor said it’d be good for you to get out. You can have one drink. Two at a push. And I’ll drive.’

‘They’ll be talking about the case, Never. I don’t want to.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes. You’re allowed home at noon.’ He waggled the flag again and handed it over. ‘In case you’re desperate to get celebrating independence.’

‘I want to go home, shut the door and have a shower. You celebrate for me.’

‘I’ll do my best. Meantime, we’ve got an hour to kill. Game?’ He reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a second console. Jonah realized it was his.

‘You went into my apartment?’

‘I did,’ said Never. ‘Your cat’s fine, by the way.’

Jonah swore. He’d forgotten about his cat, Marmite. The animal had been a gift from Sam after he’d recovered from his breakdown two years before. The name had come from Never. When Jonah had seen the cat, he’d refused point blank to accept it, so Never had called it Marmite. ‘You hate it now but you’ll love it in the end,’ he’d said. Jonah had had to Google it.

He had resented the idea that was so clearly behind the gift – to give him a focus and some responsibility, and stop him from trying to do anything similar again. Even so, he had warmed to Marmite the cat. It had crapped in Never’s lap that first day, so warming to it hadn’t proved hard.

‘Your milk was off too,’ continued Never. ‘And the heat’s made the dishes in your sink go rancid. I would’ve washed them but I had to find a bag and grab you some clothes. Now,’ he said, hurling the console at his friend. ‘Pick your game.’

*   *   *

Jonah had to admit it, he felt good as he walked into the sunshine, a welcome fresh breeze taking the ferocity out of the heat. The rest had been long overdue, and he was full of energy.

He wanted time on his own, though, and Never understood, seeing him into a taxi and making him promise to call later that day and let him know how he was doing.

The taxi to his apartment building passed the FRS office on the way. His apartment was only a ten-minute walk from it, the proximity being one of the reasons he lived where he did – that, and the level of privacy he had there, top floor of a six-floor building, nobody above him and quiet neighbours.

He bounded up the stairs to his front door. Inside, his apartment was suspiciously tidy.

In the kitchen, the dishes were done, a fresh quart of milk in the fridge. ‘Sometimes, Never Geary, you surprise me,’ he mumbled with a smile.

He dumped his bag on the sofa beside his sleeping cat, then turned on the television, flicking between the coverage of the July Fourth celebrations.

He switched off his brain and let them get on with it.

*   *   *

Jonah and Never arrived twenty minutes after the time they’d been told, at the small bar in Stafford that Bob Crenner had chosen for the sole reason – according to Never – that he knew one of the owners, an ex-detective from Philadelphia who had a habit of getting drunk and doling out free drinks to fellow law enforcers. Jonah looked around and approved of the place. It was quiet.

He spotted Bob Crenner and seven others, seeing Nala George at the far corner of the two tables they had pushed together. Crenner nodded in greeting, and Jonah waved and pointed to the bar.

‘I’ll get them in,’ Never told him. ‘You go sit.’ The look in his eye made it clear he was kidding. He knew better than anyone where Jonah’s comfort zone was.

‘I’ll wait.’

When they ordered, the barman told them their drinks were on Bob Crenner. They took the spare seats beside Crenner and Ray Johnson at the end of the table nearest the bar.

‘Jonah!’ said Crenner. ‘Glad you could make it.’

‘Well, Never said you’d not do it without me.’

A sly smile crept onto Crenner’s face. ‘It got you here!’ He raised his glass and his voice. ‘Everyone, to Jonah. A good day’s work. Cheers!’

All the others raised their glasses. Jonah could feel his cheeks redden and his smile stalling. He was relieved that conversations started up quickly.

Bob Crenner clinked his glass against Jonah’s. ‘We were all worried about you,’ he said. ‘I figured I at least owed you a drink for what you did.’

‘No problem, Bob. Strangling bystanders is all part of the service. Lucky he was the right guy.’

Bob smiled. ‘No luck in it.’ He lowered his voice. ‘That kind of thing happen often?’

Jonah met his eyes and grimaced. ‘First time for me. But they’ve taken me off revivals for a while. Overworked.’

‘Yeah,’ Ray Johnson chipped in. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘Not quite the same, Ray,’ said Bob.

Jonah took a drink. ‘I owe you. If you hadn’t questioned him…’

‘We’d have missed him, and you’d be up on aggravated assault and suspended?’ Jonah nodded, with a nervous laugh, and Bob laughed back. ‘All part of
my
service. But I wasn’t psychic. You should’ve seen his face when we pulled you away from him. He was ready to give it up. The guy was
sweating
guilt. He’d been planning on stealing the jewellery, making it look like a burglar got lucky, messing the place up as quietly as he could.’

Ray Johnson stepped in, eager to tell. ‘Nikki was an accident. He hadn’t realized she was badly injured until he was leaving. He broke the glass to raise the alarm. Fucking obscene, really, prick like that fucks up and a girl dies.’ Ray paused, shaking his head. ‘Bob implied the glass particles on his shoes would be enough on its own, but the guy was assuming he’d been named in the revival. We told him we couldn’t comment on that. Made the man think it was his last chance to get it off his chest, make it clear it was an accident. He bit.’

Jonah thought of Nikki. The pointlessness of it; her death was a stupid mistake, by a fool who had given himself away by trying to help her, but had left it too late.

‘Did he know the family?’ asked Never.

‘He lived on the street,’ said Bob. ‘Knew them in passing.’

Jonah waited to see if there was any sign of Nikki Wood in his head, but there was nothing. He looked at Bob. ‘What are they charging him with?’

‘They could argue felony murder and go for first degree, but I think he’ll plea bargain for second.’

The four men were silent, reflecting.

‘A result, all the same,’ said Bob. ‘Cheers.’ He lifted his glass.

*   *   *

Jonah sipped at his drink, listening to Bob and his colleagues exchange stories of earlier cases they’d been on. They didn’t talk any more about the Nikki Wood case, and for that he was grateful.

He returned from a rest-room trip to find Never waiting for him by the bar, Coke in one hand, beer in the other.

‘You’re driving,’ said Jonah.