better chair later, or a pillow.

The thought of looking for a comfortable chair while his friends lay comatose was shameful. Ryan

pushed the thought away, and reached for his coffee. The beep of the machines altered, as movement

caught his eye. Ryan turned his head just in time to see Ginger’s eyes blink open. He was so surprised

his body jerked to standing, spilling his coffee over his hand, the cabinet, and the floor. “Ahh!” he

cried in alarm, not even looking at his hand. “Daniel?”

His eyelids fluttered, but stayed open. Brown eyes moved about, taking in where he was, then

shifted over to Ryan.

“Daniel, y-you’re awake!” Ryan was too shocked to say anything else.

“Ryan?” he croaked. His nose twitched, and his eyes dropped down to frown at the tubes in his

nose. Ginger’s hands came up to his face, then saw all the extra wires. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“H-hang on,” Ryan breathed, relief flooding his weary body. “Let me get the –”

A nurse appeared at the foot of the bed. A second nurse rushed past her, to another bed. Beeps

sounded through the ward.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked.

The nurse blinked at him in surprise, then smiled. “They’re waking up.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Two days later

The newspaper was slapped down on the counter in front of Ryan, front page headline: Fainting

Endemic at Local Pub. Gas Leak To Blame? The accompanying picture was an outside shot of the

cordoned off Queen Anne’s Revenge, surrounded by police cars and ambulances. That had been

Saturday night. It seemed like a life time ago. Ryan frowned at the picture, then looked up at Matt.

“Reduced to a stupid headline in the crappy Argyll,” Matt muttered. “I’d always thought their

headlines were...” He shook his head. “Too ridiculous to be true.”

Ryan nodded. He knew exactly how Matt felt. “Coffee?” he offered. He’d just brewed some fresh.

To hell with nerves, he needed the caffeine.

“Nah, I’m all right,” Matt said. He pulled a new pint of milk out of the plastic bag he carried, and

placed it on the counter. “Thought I’d get you some, too.”

He must have just nipped out to the shops, Ryan realised. It was nine in the morning, and Matt was

clearly getting ready to prep his kitchen. No one had broached the subject of the pub opening today,

but there didn’t to be any reason not to. No reason that anyone could come up with, anyway. None that

the police, the fire department, the gas board, the hospital doctors, nor even their area manager, Dom,

could provide. Dom had said they could take the week off if they wanted, but Ryan got the impression

everyone wanted to get back to work.

They were restless, especially Pete and Ginger. Aside from complete memory loss of the whole of

Saturday, they were both fine. Everyone was fine, in fact, apart from poor Sammy with his broken

arm, and minor case of concussion. He was still in the hospital, awaiting a new cast.

Ryan forced a smile at Matt. “Cheers,” he said, taking the milk. “Um...I think Pete said Sammy

would be released this afternoon. He’s going down later to pick him up.”

Matt’s eyes darted at Ryan, then away. He nodded, but he looked nervous. “Yeah...I know.”

Ryan decided to be brave, and broach the subject. “Have you talked to him?”

A snort, then Matt fiddled with his plastic bag. “Not really.”

“Maybe you should.”

“What’s the point?” Matt snapped at him, fixing Ryan with a glare. “No one remembers anything,

do they? Except you and me. I feel like...I dunno!” He huffed angrily. “Like I’m stuck in some bad

dream.”

“I know,” Ryan said gently. Boy, did he know. “But maybe...even if they, or he doesn’t remember, it

doesn’t have to make a difference to anything we do.”

Matt frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

“What I mean is, what’s to stop you and Sammy from...you know, starting afresh?”

Matt’s glare faded, like he was taking in what Ryan said. Ryan could hope, anyway.

“Hmf,” he grumbled. “Maybe.”

“Just try talking to him,” Ryan suggested.

“Yeah, well.” Matt shot him a pointed look. “Maybe you should try taking your own advice, Ry.”

With that, he turned and stomped toward the door. Ryan stared after him.

Sorry I spoke.

As he reached the kitchen door, Matt startled back in surprise.

“Oh, hey, Matt!” Fizz greeted him brightly.

Matt edged around Fizz, muttering a reply. He looked back at Ryan, another pointed look, then

dashed away. Ryan heard his footsteps stomp down the hall.

Fizz blinked at Ryan, confused. “Is he okay?”

Ryan shrugged. “He’s a bit stressed.”

“Oh.” Fizz frowned, seeming concerned. Ryan watched him warily, trying not to be as noticeable in

his wariness as Matt. He knew what they’d seen, back in the pigeon loft that day, and he kept having to

remember it hadn’t been Fizz. Something else had been inside Fizz’s body, controlling him. At least,

that’s how Ryan understood it. Like The Exorcist, or something.

Ryan concealed a shudder. “You...you all right, Fizz?”

Fizz looked at him, offering a bright smile. “Yeah.” He strode into the kitchen with purpose. “Can

you help me?” In his hand, he held his mobile phone. He gazed up at Ryan imploringly. “I want to get

phone credit, but I only have cash. I’m kinda stuck, as I don’t know where to go.”

Ryan was taken aback. Fizz seemed...different. Mildly so, this time. Instead of shy and timid, now

he seemed more...normal. He didn’t shuffle about, he walked briskly. He was alert, made eye contact,

and spoke clearly, brightly. Still very much Fizz, but like someone had reached inside and turned up

his wattage, somehow.

It was a bizarre thought, but Ryan conceded he’d seen a whole lot of bizarre over the last few days.

“Um, sure,” he answered, gazing back into Fizz’s eyes. They were deep, deep blue. Had they always

been that colour? Ryan couldn’t remember. At least they were blue, he thought. Blue as they should

be. “The newsagents up the road do phone credit,” he said. “Want me to go get you some?”

Fizz looked surprised. “Oh no! I can get it, I know you’re busy.”

“It’s no trouble,” Ryan said. He knew Ginger wouldn’t want Fizz going off on his own. “It’ll only

take me five minutes.”

Fizz smiled at him. “Shall I come with you? I’d like to see where it is.”

Ryan didn’t think he’d seen Fizz smile before, not like this. Certainly not at him. He’d caught Fizz

sharing little smiles with Ash over the last few weeks, and of course, there had been those mean smiles

when Fizz wasn’t...wasn’t himself.

Ryan pushed that thought away. That hadn’t been Fizz. Was he going to have to keep reminding

himself of that every day?

“Come on then,” he said, giving in. His coffee could wait. Fizz was clearly itching to use his phone

to contact someone, and Ryan had a good idea who. He led Fizz downstairs. Aside from Matt, they

were the only ones awake, as was often the case mid-morning. Ryan wasn’t sure if anyone else would

get up to work their shifts. As he’d had trouble sleeping, he thought cleaning the pub and getting it

prepped would be better than tossing and turning in bed on his own.

From the bundle of keys in his pocket, Ryan unlocked the side door, opening it to the street. It was a

warm, yet slightly overcast day. The sky was bright, yet dark clouds in the distance threatened the

chance of rain. Typical British summer, so far. Ryan held the door for Fizz, who practically bounded

through it into the open street. Ryan shut the door and locked it, whilst watching Fizz take in the

bustle of the Old Steine in front of them.

Another thing Ryan noticed, Fizz wasn’t all swaddled up in clothes. The kid had a habit of hiding in