operation here. The man’s gone to ground and doesn’t want to be found.’
‘I just hope that, wherever he is, he’s working. Talent like that shouldn’t be wasted.’ Theo rose as the PA called the team into action. ‘Oh, and, Hayley, we’re competing against ICU to win the “Planet Savers” competition. You’re our weak link. Can you please turn off the lights when you leave?’
She bit her lip. ‘I’ll try.’
Having checked on her appendectomy patient, who was stable and sleeping, Hayley was now in the lift and on her way home. She leaned against the support rail and gave a blissful sigh. She loved this time of the night when dawn was close, but the hustle and bustle of the day was yet to start. It was a quiet and peaceful time—not always, but today all was calm and experience had taught her to savour the moment. The ping of the lift sounded and she pushed herself off the rail as the silver-coloured doors opened into the long, long corridor that connected the hospital with the basement staff car park. Sensor lights had been installed as part of the hospital’s environmental policy, especially down here where, after the morning and evening’s arrival and departure rush, the corridor was rarely used.
As she stepped out of the lift, she commenced counting in her head, expecting the lights to come on halfway between numbers one and two. She got to three and was now standing in the corridor, but there was still no greeting light. Not a single flicker. The lift doors closed behind her with a soft thud, stealing the only light, and inky, black darkness enveloped her. A shiver raced from head to toe, raising a trail of anxious goose bumps and her heart raced.
Just breathe.
Fumbling in her pocket, her fingers clamped around her phone. The lights had failed two nights ago and in a panic she’d rung Maintenance. Gerry had arrived in his overalls, taken one look at her terror-stricken face and had said, ‘We’ve been having a bit of trouble with the sensor, but we’ve got a new one on order. If it ever happens again, love, you just do this,’ and he’d quietly shown her where the override switch was located.
Why didn’t I just walk to work?
Because it was dark. Come on, you know what to do.
She pressed a button on her phone and a tiny pool of light lit up her feet as she edged her way along the wall. Sweat dripped down her neck as the darkness pressed down on her, making it hard to move air in and out of her lungs. She thought she heard a sound and she stopped dead. Straining her ears to hear it again, she didn’t move a muscle, but the moment passed and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. She started moving again and stopped. This time she was sure she’d heard a click-click sound.
It’s the bowels of the hospital. There are all sorts of noises down here. Just keep walking.
She wished she’d counted steps with Gerry last week, but she’d stuck to him like glue, listening only to his reassuring voice. She continued edging along the wall until she felt the turn of the corridor pressing into her back. You’re halfway. Knowing she was closer was enough to speed up her feet.
Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sounds echoed around her like the boom of a cannon.
Her feet froze. Her breath stalled. It’s probably the furnace. Or pipes.
God, she hated this. She was one exam away from being a fully qualified surgeon. She duelled with death on behalf of her patients every single day, winning more often than not. Facing down blood, guts and gore didn’t faze her at all so she absolutely loathed it that the dark could render her mute and terrified.
You’re close to the lights. Keep going.
Ten, nine, eight, seven … She silently counted backwards in her head as she scuttled sideways like a crab. Finally, she felt the bank of switches digging sharply into her spine. Yes! She swung around, pushed her eight fingers against the plastic and started pressing switches.
Bright, white light flickered and then filled the space with wondrously welcome light and Hayley rested her forehead against the cool wall in relief. She gulped in a couple of steadying breaths and just as her pulse stared to slow, she heard a click. She swung around and her scream echoed back to her.
‘Are you hurt?’ A tall man in black jeans, a black merino sweater and a black moleskin jacket turned from three metres away, holding something in his hand that she couldn’t quite make out.
Her heart jumped in her chest and then pounded even harder, making her head spin, but somewhere buried in her fear a shot of indignation surged. ‘No, I’m not bloody hurt, but you scared the living daylights out of me.’
‘Why?’ The question sounded surprised and he stared at her, but he didn’t move to close the gap between them.
She threw her arms out as if the answer was self-evident. ‘I didn’t know you were here!’
His mouth twitched, but she didn’t know if it was the start of a smile or the extension of a grimace. ‘I’ve known you were here for the past few minutes.’
She blinked. ‘How? It was pitch-black until a moment ago.’
His broad shoulders rose slightly and his empty hand flexed by his side. ‘I heard the ping of the lift.’
‘But that’s in the other corridor and I might have gone in the opposite direction.’
‘True, but you didn’t. I could also smell you.’
Her mouth fell open at the matter-of-fact words and she couldn’t stop herself from raising one shoulder as she took a quick sniff of her armpit before looking back at him. His gaze hadn’t shifted and offence poured through her. ‘It’s been a long night saving lives so sue me if I don’t smell squeaky clean and fresh.’
‘I didn’t say it was offensive.’
Something about the way the deep timbre of his voice caressed the words should have reassured her and made her smile, but the fact he was still staring at her was utterly disconcerting. He hadn’t made any move towards her, for which she was grateful, even though she could see a hospital ID lanyard hanging out of his pocket. With his black clothes, black hair, bladed cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose and a delicious cleft in his stubble-covered chin, he cut a striking image against the white of the walls. Striking and slightly unnerving. He wasn’t a fatherly figure like Gerry the maintenance man in his overalls, neither did he have the easygoing manner of Theo. Neither of those men ever put her on edge.
Even so, despite her thread of anxiety, she would have had to be blind not to recognise he was handsome in a rugged, rough-edged kind of a way, and that was part of her unease. She had the feeling that his clothes were just a veneer of gentrification. Remove them and a raw energy would be unleashed that would sweep up everything in its path.
An unbidden image of him naked exploded in her mind, stirring a prickle of sensation deep down inside her. It wasn’t fear and that scared her even more.
‘Scent aside …’ he tilted his head ‘… which, by the way, I believe is Jenson’s Floral Fantasy.’
How did he know that? She frantically glanced around, looking for a camera or any sign that this was some sort of a set-up, a joke being played on her because she was a new staff member, but she couldn’t see anything. She turned back to him and his tight expression suddenly faded, replaced by a smile that crawled across his face, streaking up through jet stubble and crinkling the edges of his eyes. It lit up his aura of darkness and she wondered why she’d ever been scared of him.
His rich laugh had a bitter edge. ‘I would need to be deaf not to hear the argument you were having with your feet.’
He knows you were scared.
Stung into speech, she tried for her most cutting tone—the one she knew put over-confident medical students in their place. ‘I was not arguing with my feet.’
‘Is that so? What else would you call that stop-start shuffle you were doing?’