she asked.

“Oh. Sorry.” Ryan hurried over to where she pointed, and squirted some of the liquid into his

palms. It was sticky, and smelt like vodka, but he wiped it all over his hands. When he returned to the

beds, he saw what it was the nurses were cleaning up. Under each bed, on the plain, hard flooring,

were strange markings; pictures drawn in bright green.

There was one under each bed. Ryan tilted his head, looking at the nearest one. It was some sort of

symbol. A triangle? No, an eye, within a circle, and different markings, letters and numbers leading

off it. Ryan walked down the row of beds, eyes darting to his friends lying there, and the markings

under their beds. Each marking was the same. When he got to the end of the row, the two nurses with

the sponges and paper towels were busy scrubbing the floor, removing the marking from under Pete’s

bed.

“Who did these?” Ryan asked.

Amy’s look of displeasure rested on the still form of Fizz.

“He drew these?”

“Mm-hm.” Amy turned her look onto Ryan. “Do you know if he sleep-walks at home?”

“Sleep-walks?” Ryan was confused. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“We caught him sleep-walking a couple of times. The last time he’d drawn all this rubbish on the

floor. He got agitated when we tried to remove them, so we had to sedate him again. If he carries on

like this, I may have to refer him to the psychiatric ward.”

Psychiatric. Ryan felt panic trickle through him. He couldn’t let Fizz be put in a psychiatric ward,

Ginger would go nuts.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Ryan tried to reassure. “He’s probably in shock or something. He’s been

through a lot, and...and...”

What else could he say that she would believe?

Amy was clearly tired, and in no mood to banter further. “Sounds like you’ve all been through a

lot,” she said. “Tea and coffee machine’s down the hall, on your right. Water fountain by my desk.

Don’t touch anything, don’t make too much noise, but if you want to chat, go ahead. A friendly voice

might do some good. And if he wakes up again –” She glanced at Fizz. “– tell him to behave.”

Ryan nodded vigorously. “I will. Thank you.”

Amy left the ward, returning to the front desk. Only the two nurses remained, scrubbing the floor,

one symbol at a time. Ryan was beyond confused. Again, flashes of movies filtered through his mind.

Where had he seen symbols like that before? Usually when something like witchcraft was involved.

God. This didn’t bode well.

He picked up a plastic-moulded chair, and carried it over to Ginger. Setting the chair down at the

bedside, Ryan sat down, facing Ginger’s form on the bed. He ignored the discomfort of the plastic

chair, and tried to ignore all the machines around him, and the other still bodies. He also had to ignore

the strange symbol under Ginger’s bed. Ryan removed the pendant from his neck, and slipped it under

the edge of Ginger’s pillow. The man didn’t stir.

“You need to wake up now,” Ryan said. His eyes darted around, just to make sure no one had

sneaked up on him. He could hear the distant scratch and scrub of the nurses cleaning, a few beds

away. Satisfied he was alone, Ryan gazed down at Ginger. His red hair fanned out on the pillow, and

he looked as though he were asleep. Ryan’s fingers reached out, gently touching a long strand of red

that had caught in a curl. He unwound it, smoothing it to lay with the rest of his hair.

“Daniel, I’ve got something to tell you,” Ryan said quietly. “Something that I should have said a

long time ago.”

Silence. Only the machines beeped in the background. Ryan kept expecting Ginger to open his eyes

any second. That was the way things should be. In his mind’s eye, Ryan saw Ginger blinking up at

him, like he had in that moment Ryan had stolen a kiss, before the blood had rained.

Don’t think about that.

Ryan stroked through Ginger’s hair. To stop himself thinking about that kiss, about that horrible

room, he looked at the colours of Ginger’s hair. Poppy red, vermillion, rubine... His eyes stung. Ryan

felt the tears brimming. It was all just too crazy to think about. He wanted to go back in time, to do

everything again differently.

“Daniel, I love you. I’ve loved you since forever, and I was too afraid to tell you.” He breathed in a

long, shuddery breath. “Okay, you can wake up and laugh at me now.”

Silence. Ryan traced the neck of the hospital gown, his fingers brushing over Ginger’s collarbone.

He was careful not to disturb the air tube that rested over his neck, leading up to his nose. Ryan stared

at the sleeping man, his eyes mapping every detail. He’d never had such freedom to stare at Ginger

before. He was used to stolen glances, covert looks, hoping he wouldn’t get caught. Ryan would trade

anything to have that again, to have Ginger open his eyes now.

“Daniel, please wake up,” he said, voice wavering. “I just...I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

When nothing happened, Ryan shifted his chair carefully, so he was able to lean his arms forward

on the bed. “I’ll just shut my eyes, okay? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

A blend of quiet noises from the machines, and the nurse’s cleaning, lulled him to sleep. Twice

Ryan woke with a jerk, and he wondered if it was because something had happened, but nothing had

changed.

The nurses had scrubbed the floor under Ginger’s bed, and the symbol had vanished. Ryan leaned

forward again, resting his head on his forearms. The silence lulled him to sleep again. This time, he

dreamed. The figures were after him, and no matter how much he tried to move and kick, his body

wouldn’t obey.

Again, Ryan woke up with a start. His vision blurred, and his mind buzzed. He knew he needed

proper sleep, but he couldn’t face the dreams. Ginger was still asleep. Did he dream, too? Ryan

wondered what it would be about, if he would ever feature in them.

He sighed heavily. “I’m going to get a coffee,” he croaked out. When he stood, his back cracked

painfully. He swore under his breath, stretching as he walked. He’d expected to see Amy at the front

desk, but it was one of the other nurses. She smiled at him as he walked past. Ryan gave her a weak

smile in return. His eyes glanced up at the clock on the wall. 07.36AM.

God, he’d only been there about an hour, yet it felt like years.

The vending machine hummed quietly in an empty hallway. Ryan fished in his pocket, relieved

when he dug out some silver. The machine wasn’t expensive, but he guessed he’d be feeding a lot of

money into it today. He chose a cappuccino, extra cream, extra sugar. The cup dropped down, and the

machine whirred to life, shooting jets of different coloured liquid in the cup. When the green light

indicated for Ryan to take it, he picked up the steaming hot cup and peered inside.

Cappuccino? Ryan wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was too hot to taste yet. He took the cup back

to the ward. By each bed was a small cabinet, and Ryan placed his cup on the flat surface next to

Ginger’s bed. He glanced around the ward, looking down the rows of beds. The two people he didn’t

know, the paramedics who’d first come to help them, and then all the people he knew so well. It was

surreal.

Ryan wondered if Mr. Singh would blame him for this. It had been Ryan after all who’d requested

Ash come to the pub. What if something worse had happened to Ash? Ryan figured he probably

deserved whatever Mr. Singh wanted to dish out to him.

With a sigh, Ryan sank down into his uncomfortable plastic chair. His back started aching in

immediate protest, but he wasn’t about to leave. Get used to it, he thought. Maybe he could go find a