***SPOILER ALERT*** Before reading any further, have you read Unspoken? If not, this blog post could ruin the ending of a thriller. If you want to avoid that, stop now and return after you know the ending.
This is your last chance to back out before I reveal this thriller’s twist!
***SPOILER/SPOILER/SPOILER/SPOILER/SPOILER/SPOILER/SPOILER***
EPILOGUE
Three Months Later
Him
Consciousness came in slowly. A wave, lapping at the shore. Dale’s senses came to life in the same way.
First, he became aware of the coolness under his back.
Next came the rhythmic beep of a machinery. Finally, a woman’s voice carried to his ears.
“Such a shame,” she said.
“Is it?” another woman replied. “I heard she hit him in self-defense.”
Self-defense.
The term jarred something in Dale, and he tried to interject. He couldn’t make his mouth work. What was happening here?
“Even so,” the first woman said. “Does anyone really deserve
this?”
Deserve what? Dale wanted to ask.
“It’s not like he’s dead,” the second woman stated.
There are some things worse than death. The though floated up, unbidden.
Again, Dale tried to speak. Again, he failed.
What’s wrong with me?
He tried to move, to push against the restraints of his own body, but his limbs felt heavy, foreign. His mouth, still unresponsive, betrayed him.
What. Is. Wrong.
“Someone told me it’s locked in syndrome,” the first woman said as though in answer to his silent plea for an explanation. “It’s just a rumor. But the longer into your career you get, the more wild stuff you see.”
“So, that means he can hear us?” The second woman sounded nervous.
“Oh, who knows? Maybe if it’s really that, he can. Maybe see us if his eyes happen to be open. And feel us, too.”
A light touch found Dale’s wrist, proving the last piece to be right.
“But if it were true…” the first woman went on. “Then don’t you think his heart monitor would be going nuts right now?”
Dale agreed. It should be going because there was a rising panic in his chest.
The second woman–Dale surmised now that they must be nurses–didn’t seem to be able to stop herself from saying one last thing.
“She’s the one who did this, isn’t she?” she whispered. “The one who almost killed him.”
Now the clack of shoes on linoleum carried to Dale’s ears, and the next voice that spoke was familiar. But it wasn’t his wife; it was Talia.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said. “Could you just give us a moment alone?”
There was a shuffle, the nurses murmuring and excusing themselves. Then came a protracted silence before Talia spoke again, her voice right beside him.
“Hello, Dale,” she murmured, the greeting dripping with derision. “I just wanted to see you one last time. Not so much to tell that doctor says this is permanent or even
to say that we’re glad you got this rather than death. It’s just so suiting.”
If he’d been able to speak or move, he would’ve turned away. Plugged his ears. Demanded to know where his wife was and who was behind this. But none of that was possible.
Talia got even closer, her breath warm against his cheek.
“What I really want to do is to ask you a question. Tell me Dale…how does it feel, knowing we took away your power over us?” she asked. “Over your wife, Lena, in particular?”
I’m not powerless! Dale wanted to yell while seizing her throat. I’m not!
Talia laughed. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t tell me, can you? You can’t do anything.”
Rage was a tidal wave. But the not so silent woman was right; there was nothing he could do. Not. At. All.
THE END
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