Doc Mortis by Barry Hutchison Page A

though, fear would have kept me there on the bed.
    The porter brought its face even closer to mine, until I could feel its rough skin brushing against my cheek. It paused there for a moment, then craned its head down and began to sniff my neck. For the first time, I was grateful for the brace. It acted like a shield across my throat, stopping the thing getting too close.
    â€˜He is getting your scent,’ Doc explained. ‘Smelling the very blood coursing through your veins. Do you know what that means?’
    I didn’t answer, so he continued.
    â€˜It means you can never escape. It means if you try to get away, he will find you. Wherever you go, however fast you run, he will find you, and he will catch you, and he will bring you back to me.’
    At last, the porter stopped snuffling at my neck. It crawled backwards off me, button eyes gazing emptily in my direction. Doc was back standing by my feet. He held the metal hook in both hands, the pointed tip angled towards me. ‘And I will be very upset with you. Do I make myself clear?’
    Again I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Fear had frozen my words in my throat. He took my silence to mean I understood perfectly.
    â€˜Good,’ he said, and he sat the hook back down on the trolley. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some thinking to do, and some other patients to attend to before we get down to business. If you are what you claim you are, you deserve something...’ A shudder of excitement rippled through him. ‘... extra special .’
    The porter scurried past him and held open the doors. Doc backed away from me, still peering over his glasses, holding my gaze. He began to sing as he edged towards the door, his voice taking on the same slow, scratchy drone as earlier.
    â€˜If you go down to the woods today, you’d better not go alone. It’s lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home. For every bear that ever there was, will gather there for certain because...’
    He hesitated just beyond the doors. ‘Today’s the day the teddy bears have their piiic nic .’
    The doors swung closed, and like that, they were gone.
    â€˜Weirdo,’ I whispered, letting myself breathe out and allowing my knotted muscles to relax just a fraction. ‘What a psycho.’
    A groan from the doors stopped me saying any more. My muscles bunched up again, my brief respite apparently over. The left-hand door was nudged open a crack, and the hinges groaned more loudly.
    The face that appeared was not one I expected. It was thick with dirt, and looked almost as scared as I felt. The boy’s silvery eyes watched me, unblinking.
    â€˜You!’ I said, louder than I’d meant to. The boy shrank back behind the door, and for one terrible moment I thought I’d scared him off. But the door stayed wedged open, and I knew he was still out there. ‘I won’t hurt you,’ I said. ‘I promise.’
    â€˜Can’t hurt me,’ he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. ‘You’re all tied up.’
    I couldn’t really argue with his logic on that one. ‘I know. Listen, you’ve got to help me,’ I said. ‘You’ve got to help me get out.’
    There was silence for a moment, then, ‘You stole my crisps.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜My crisps. You stole them.’
    â€˜Oh, right. Um... I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were yours.’
    â€˜And my sweets.’
    â€˜Yes, again, I—’
    â€˜ And my bag.’
    â€˜You punched me in the balls!’ I reminded him, but he pulled back at that and I quickly softened my tone. ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ I said hurriedly. ‘For all of it. Most of the stuff’s still in the bag.’ My eyes searched the debris around me. ‘It’s just, I’m not sure where the bag is right now. But if you help untie me, I’ll find it.’
    The boy’s face