I said, ‘Make sure you don’t stand in its blood,’ but they told me afterwards it just came out as a series of meaningless sounds.
He came to stand in front of me. ‘Max, it’s Ian. Let go of the gun and the axe.’
I kept trying to look around him. I must not take my eyes off the head. I tried to tell him.
Finally, he said, ‘What?’ and I tried to signal with my eyes.
He turned round and said, ‘He’s very, very dead, Max. He’s never going to do anyone any harm ever again,’ and, then, thank God, just as he looked, the head moved again. Another small movement. Back towards the body.
He stood frozen for a minute and then said in a very different voice, ‘Where’s that axe?’ He swung once, twice, three times, powerful blows with the full force of his body behind them. We both stared at the crushed, ruined head. Even then, I wasn’t convinced. Neither was he.
‘I’ll see to all this, Max. Let’s get you out. Leave all this to me.’
I tried to say something about contamination, but he said, ‘Will you trust me to do this right?’
I nodded.
He carried me out of that stinking pod, through the plastic containment tunnel, into a small plastic treatment room and wonderful, glorious, fresh air.
I couldn’t see Kal at all for the people bending over her. She was hooked up to all sorts of drips and stuff. They were calm but urgent. The bloody pillow lay on the floor with soiled dressings all around. They were cutting her clothes off her.
Masked and suited figures appeared around me, cutting off my view. My turn.
Someone said, ‘Close your eyes,’ and I felt cool liquid running across my face.
Someone else said, ‘Keep irrigating. Don’t stop.’
I recognised Nurse Hunter. Dr Foster must be with Kal.
Hunter bent over me. ‘Hello, Max, what have you been up to now? Everything’s fine. We’re just going to have a look.’
They started to cut off my clothes, as well. Mrs Enderby, our wardrobe mistress, was not going to be pleased with us at all. I tried to tell them to bag everything, but no one was listening, and after all, we were in an isolation tent. It wasn’t likely they would just carelessly toss it all away. Let them get on with it.
I started to shiver.
‘OK, let’s have some heat pads here. Elevate the feet. Hang on, Max.’ Voices came and went, the way they do when you doze off in front of the television.
‘Cuts and abrasions on her forearms – probably defensive wounds, one is very deep indeed. Two deep gashes across her left ankle and some minor cuts to the abdomen. Nothing too serious, Max. You’ll live to be grateful to that corset. In fact, we’re ditching the Kevlar and replacing it with whalebone.’
I don’t know why medical staff think they have a sense of humour. I went for a smear test last year and Helen swore there was an echo. How funny is that?
Stripping off her gloves, Helen replaced Hunter. ‘She’s still with us, Max. We’re taking her upstairs now.’ I saw her eyes shift to Hunter, who shook her head slightly. ‘Don’t be alarmed. You have a couple of bad cuts on your face. We’re keeping them clean and Dr Bairstow wants you sent off to the big plastics unit at Wendover. Everything’s under control here. You concentrate on you.’
Fog billowed and swirled like silk. A T-rex lowered its fearsome head, looked at me, decided it couldn’t be bothered and wandered off, to be replaced by Major Guthrie saying, ‘They’re on their way – ten minutes,’ and then my father said, ‘Hello, Madeleine.’ And I struggled to get away.
Mrs Partridge stepped into my view. She wore a white robe and her dark hair was caught up in a silver clasp. Everything else was shadowed but I could see her very clearly. If Kleio, Muse of History was here, then things must be bad.
I said, ‘Am I dead?’
‘Not this time. Stop fighting them. Let them do their job.’
I relaxed and let my head fall back.
Helen had gone.
Someone said, ‘Give her two gowns and plenty of blankets. She feels the cold.’
Something warm and soft covered me. If there were heat pads, I couldn’t feel them.
‘Another blanket here.’
It made no difference. I was frozen, shivering violently and uncontrollably. Something pricked the back of my hand as I was hooked up to something else. Bright lights weaved and waved. Voices came and went. I could hear my teeth chattering.
I heard a loud and prolonged grinding of metal on metal. They were opening the hangar doors.
Someone said, ‘Keep her dry.’
They wheeled me to the edge of the hangar and we all peered out. Wind, rain – it was a hell of a night out there. It had been a hell of a night in here, as well.
Overhead suddenly, a rhythmical pounding cut through the sound of the storm. The outside lights blazed on. They hurt my eyes. Someone covered my face with a blanket. The rackety clatter got louder. People shouted.
Someone said, ‘OK, here we go,’ and I was wheeled at speed out into the storm.
‘On three. One, two, three.’ I was tilted, turned, tilted again.
Someone said, ‘Is she dead?’ and pulled the blanket down.