Echoes of the Soul

By S M Stuart

December 2110: Seth lies comatose in Ellingham Clinic while Dez struggles to cope with the fallout of that fateful evening in August, when they confronted the serial killer who devastated so many lives. Victor Trevalyn was Seth’s mother’s Psyche-Twin and had taunted her mercilessly with his projections of the murders he committed.

Dez and Seth had only just acknowledged their growing romance when tragedy struck. Now grieving for her lost soulmate, Dez searches through her ‘head-mess’ of telepathic connections for clues to Seth’s Psyche-Twin’s identity, hoping that a link might help her to break through and bring him out of his coma. After all, it worked when Dale and Asil re-connected through Dez last summer. However, from the depths of her own subconscious, she senses a more familiar voice calling to her – not one that she could have ever expected to hear.

Before she fully realises the implications, Dez is once again gathering clues and racing against the clock to save her loved ones from Trevalyn’s evil machinations.

How will she find Seth’s Psyche-Twin? Whose voice is it that she can hear, ringing through her crowded thoughts? And why does she still feel the threat of Trevalyn’s presence, even though he should be locked away both physically and mentally?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Nov 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781803138312

S M Stuart

Originally from Yorkshire and having had several years as a ‘Berliner’, S M Stuart now lives in Shropshire with her husband, Joe. Her debut novel, Two of a Mind attracted many 5-star reviews from readers of all ages. When not looking after her clients’ financial ‘books’ in her other professional persona as an accounting technician, she continues to write novels, short stories and her series of Yorkshire Dialect Fairy Tales.

Book preview

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Ellingham Trevalyn Clinic: 2 November 2106

What a pleasant surprise, Mr Trevalyn. We generally don’t expect visits from the CEO to our little backwater clinic. Consultant Surgeon and Clinical Director, Mr Reginald Niemeyer, simpered in a way that had Tony Bridges struggling to keep a serious expression.

Nurse Bridges. Refreshments for our guest, Niemeyer said dismissively, as he preceded Trevalyn into his office and switched the glazing to its privacy setting.

‘What did your last slave die of?’ Tony no longer felt the urge to laugh at Niemeyer’s grovelling behaviour. If only this latest posting had a boss who was aware of what Tony had done for his king and country, he might have been shown a little more respect. Even though Tony, himself, had requested the transfer to a less stressful environment several months previously, he now wondered if this retrograde step to ‘nurse’ was a mistake.

"Nothing for me, thank you, Lance Corporal Bridges." Trevalyn’s quiet response froze Tony’s heart. Nobody at the clinic was supposed to know his rank. Did the CEO have that knowledge because of his exalted position in the corporation? He tried to shake off his uneasiness but Trevalyn’s self-satisfied sneer seemed to indicate he knew more about Tony than just the confidential details of his National Service record.

Later, as Niemeyer escorted Trevalyn out to the corporate helicopter, Tony quizzed Dr Okiro about the unexpected visit to the clinic.

Why the sudden interest in Ellingham?

Haven’t a clue, replied the pathologist, but he took a particular shine to Marion. Maybe he’s searching for someone to give him regular bed baths.

Tony pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose as though he was sucking a lemon. That, dear boy, has put me right off my lunch! He pushed his plate of quinoa salad to one side. He had lost his appetite, still feeling uneasy from his encounter with Trevalyn.

Well this’ll keep you off your food for a week. Okiro leaned closer as one gossipmonger to another. They spent an awfully long time ‘touring’ the mortuary. Messing about, more like. She was giggling like a bloody schoolgirl. And the times I had to ask Trevalyn to stop touching things! Set me back hours on the poor Jane Doe from the lake.

Anyone would think he owned the place, said Tony in mock sympathy. The two friends laughed but both felt a little edgy for the rest of the day without really knowing why.

London: 29 November 2106

He smiled as he gently depressed the plunger of the syringe. The enhanced image on the Holo-Screen resembled a drainpipe discharging its murky contents into a huge flimsy beach-ball. In reality, the microscopic droplets filling the egg cell had been carefully harvested and manipulated to encourage a faster growth rate than would happen naturally. Victor Trevalyn was not a patient man.

Soon, he whispered, as he watched the frantic activity on the screen. He felt himself to be the equal of any of the world’s gods. Not that he was a believer of any religion. If he had been, his conscience would probably have baulked at what he was undertaking.

Satisfied that all was advancing as planned, he repeated the procedure several times until he had a dozen viable zygotes. He glanced towards the six gurneys lined up along one side of the laboratory. His lip curled in disgust at the specimens he had been obliged to use for this most delicate task. They had been easy enough to pick up. The dark alleys of the City proved the ideal hunting ground for his requirements. He could have used his testers in the covert laboratory far out in the South China Sea, but he wanted to keep this particular project closer to home. These homeless Empties had been only too happy to offer their services for the money he guaranteed. Or rather, the cure he’d promised.

My pharmaceutical company needs test subjects for a ‘catalyst’, if you will, he’d explained. Something to switch on the psychic-twinning process that should have initiated when you were sixteen. Your assistance will be richly rewarded and you’ll be helping redress the balance for your fellow sufferers.

Those who were Missing-Psyche-Twins (MPTs) had quickly sunk to the bottom of the pecking order. Viewed by many as throwbacks to a lower-functioning species. Some managed to hide their lack of a PT by insisting their Bloc was so restrictive that they couldn’t discuss any aspect of their connection. Such irony, when only a couple of generations previously, to admit to hearing voices in your head would label you as mentally ill.

Trevalyn would have preferred clean-living, well-nourished girls but they would be missed. A significant benefit of using Empties was that there would be no interference from their PT. And, ‘to his credit’, he had helped these individuals kick their drug habits, given them clean, comfortable accommodation, and fed them fine cuisine to bring them as close to peak health as possible. He would just have to hope that any previous damage from their less than healthy lifestyle had been repaired by his intense nurturing over the past month.

Now, let’s see it it’s all been worth it, he said, approaching the sedated girls.

CHAPTER 1

Ellingham: 15 December 2110

Why do I keep coming back here? The scene of so much horror and despair is tragically beautiful in its wintry form. The frosted trees glisten in the afternoon sunshine. The lake froze a week ago and shows no sign of thawing as the sub-zero temperatures continue. It’s the perfect photo-op for the LightFest marketing machine. No different from the commercialism of bygone Christmases but now an all-faith occasion. Another ‘side-effect’ of the modern PT world order, I suppose, being more accepting of other beliefs and sharing celebrations. But celebrations will be low on our priority list this year.

You’ll catch your death of cold, he whispers, his breath a cool breeze by my ear.

Not even slightly funny. I shiver despite my climate-controlled clothing.

He’s not here, you know. They’ve got him locked up somewhere safe. We’ll be fine now.

Will we? I shrug, unconvinced. There’s something deep inside that won’t let me believe his optimism. I haven’t felt any full-on telepathic connections with the serial killer since August, but I can’t shake the sensation that Trevalyn is still lurking in the shadows of my mind. Waiting for the right moment to begin the torment again. He didn’t die that night so maybe he’s recovering his senses and that’s what I’m picking up.

You’ve got to let go, Dez. It’s not helping either of us.

Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who brought him to the lake.

I brought the gun.

No! I won’t let him take any responsibility for what happened. It was my fault and mine alone.

I’ll never let go, Seth. Not until you’re safely home and back with me.

I turn away from the lakeside and retrace the path of my solitary footprints.

As always, my imagination allowed a connection with Seth that I could never achieve while he was conscious. I stretched and opened my eyes, aware that, yet again, my cheeks were wet from crying.

This isn’t helping, is it? Alvin was cleaning his retro specs with a pristine handkerchief. His brow creased and I picked up his own feelings of guilt.

I’d agreed to therapy sessions to keep the ’rents happy but, no, they weren’t really helping.

Sorry, I mumbled. It’s not your fault. I just can’t … let go.

Alvin smiled sympathetically. Nobody expects you to, Dez. All we want is for you to feel you can cope with the things that you’re finding difficult at the moment. Don’t blame yourself if the sessions aren’t giving you what you need. These things take time to resolve. We’ll find a way through. Don’t worry.

I walked him to the door.

Say ‘Hi’ to Debbie for me. I hesitated, trying to sound genuine as I continued, Happy LightFest, Alvin. We hugged briefly and gave each other the obligatory peck on the cheek. I kept my barriers up so he didn’t catch any of my thoughts but his were loud and clear. ‘If only I’d known what Trevalyn was.’

I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see my wry smile. So much for letting go, Mr Therapist! In a strange way, it was comforting to know that even the healer had trouble fixing himself. If he was struggling, what chance did I have?

I snatched my climate jacket from the hook and followed Alvin out into the cold afternoon. We parted company at the end of the road and, once he could no longer see the direction I was heading, I took the path to Ellingham Park.

Outside of my imagination, I hadn’t been back to the lake since that awful night but a sudden urge to do so had me walking towards the Memorial Bridge. I allowed the telepathic links to escape from the lockdown and my head filled with their murmuring. I needed the distraction before dread made me turn for home. The bridge was slick with ice and I was glad of the thick ridged soles on my boots. My breath clouded in the chill air and my nose began to dribble. I fumbled for the hanky in my pocket, but my gloved fingers couldn’t grip it properly and it fell through the railings onto a lump of damp ice in a puddle of semi-frozen water.

For frikk’s sake, I muttered and ran my sleeve under my nose.

I watched the handkerchief gradually soak up the film of water it lay in then stiffen as the freezing temperature took effect. The ice suddenly lurched as though something beneath it was trying to reach the surface. I stepped back in panic then screamed as I felt arms closing around me.

Shush, love. It’s only me. My terror drained away as Samuel’s calm voice finally got through the clamour in my head. I saw you walking this way and thought you might be better off with some company.

S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to scream. I thought I saw … What did I think I’d seen? Nothing more than a current stirring the torpid water.

I know, love. I sometimes get that feeling too. And I’m not sure whether it makes it easier or worse knowing Lizzy didn’t go in deliberately. He was staring into the depths of the lake and imagining his wife’s final moments. He straightened up and took a deep breath. Come on. Let’s find a hot chocolate to take away the chill, eh?

Samuel’s ever-practical approach calmed my frazzled nerves although I couldn’t completely relax. Something – or someone – on the edge of the woods had caught my eye as we stepped off the bridge. Probably just a local dog-walker but a sinister familiarity about the figure made my spine shudder.

My ‘Imaginary Seth’ and Alvin were right. I needed to let go – a little – if I was going to keep my sanity. I made the decision to sort myself out in time for Seth’s recovery. I’d go shopping for LightFest decorations to brighten his hospital room. It was a start.

Ellingham Trevalyn Clinic: 19 December 2110

Tony had just finished his latest rounds as I arrived with a box full of LightFest decorations. His momentary horror at my tacky offerings was quickly extinguished as he realised I was trying to be more positive.

I’m sorry, Dez, but we’ve got restrictions on what can be brought into the wards. Give those to me, Hun, he said. I’ll check what we can get away with and I’ll drop them back in once I’ve done the shift hand-over.

My protest died before I voiced it. I noticed a new nurse hovering in the background and Tony was not happy to see her. Nurse Strickland narrowed her eyes as she looked at me. As with all first-time meetings I couldn’t guard against the connection and her thoughts crashed into me like a physical blow.

‘Pampered little madam. Thinks the world owes her just because the boyfriend got into a fight with a drug-crazed Empty. Well if she thinks she can just waltz in here …’

I gasped and tried to break the link. Tony stepped forward, destroying the visual contact and bringing my focus back to him.

You look a bit out of it. Are you feeling alright? he asked, taking the box and turning me towards Seth’s room. Go sit down and I’ll bring you a cuppa in a minute.

Seth was no longer considered to be in critical condition now that the bullet had been removed and he had been relocated from the Intensive Care Unit to Moderate Care although he still needed constant monitoring and daily physiotherapy to ensure his muscles didn’t atrophy. As I entered the room and saw Seth’s still form it reminded me of Dale Johnson’s situation after Trevalyn had tried to kill him with a drugs overdose.

Why can’t I reach you like I did him? I thought as I kissed his lips, still hoping for a sign that he felt my presence. Nothing. It’s not gonna help me be positive if you’re gonna be such a pain to get through to!

‘…eth? Come on, man! Frikk’s sake. I know you’re out there."

I leapt back as though I’d touched a live mains wire. That wasn’t Seth so who the hell was it? I clasped his hand and tried to find the connection again, but it had gone. If it had even been there. I was pushing against the closed door of Seth’s subconscious and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get through.

He still playing hard to get? Tony came in and started to programme the bed’s exercise routine. I’ll make him work extra hard this evening as punishment for ignoring you.

Ugh, I’ll come back later, I said. Seeing Seth’s jerking limbs and knowing that he wasn’t moving voluntarily was a disturbing sight.

Sorry, Dez. We’re late with the exercises today. The power failed for an hour or so and the place was chaotic for a while.

Surely you have a back-up?

We do. We do. Tony nodded emphatically. That was the problem. The back-up was short of juice, so we had to channel the little power we had to life support in ICU and to the operating theatres. Exercise systems are low priority so we’re only just catching up.

Bet the maintenance guy had a bad day.

Tony’s voice dropped and he glanced at the door to make sure nobody was nearby, He would’ve had but he’s not been seen today. Gone AWOL. Sabotage theories are flying around. It’s all rather odd. What would be the point? He grinned to lighten the mood. He’s probably just got the man-flu and not managed to call it in yet.

I sat in the canteen nibbling on a double-choc muffin. The aftershock of Seth’s shooting had left me with a virtually non-existent appetite. My chocolate embargo from the summer seemed a pathetic gesture as I was struggling to keep the weight on these days. I remembered my peevishness on my birthday when Seth had munched through his cake, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort. I couldn’t understand why I’d been so envious as now the muffin felt – and tasted – like sawdust in my mouth.

I gave it another half hour before heading back to Seth’s room. Tony was sorting through the allowable decorations at his desk and gave me a quick wink as I walked past. He’d lowered the lighting in Seth’s room and adjusted the glazing to the privacy mode. Seth looked peaceful in the subtle glow – too peaceful for my liking. He’d always been a fidget. I suppose that’s why the enforced movements of the exerciser creeped me out. I stroked his hair, the long red curls slipped through my fingers like silky ribbons. I loved his hair. He wouldn’t normally have let it grow quite this much but I thought I could persuade him to keep it longer when he woke up.

***

The figure in the doorway looks familiar but the light is behind him and his features are obscured. He looks over his shoulder as if to check whether he’s being watched then steps into the room, keeping to the shadows. He stands there. Hidden in the gloom. Unmoving yet menacing in his stillness.

The power fails and the sudden darkness swallows him up completely. He laughs quietly and clicks on a small pen-light, shielding its glow with his hand. He approaches the bed, stoops over Seth’s still form as though checking for a reaction then straightens up again, nodding slightly.

I hope you appreciate my little gift as much as I shall, he says, the sarcasm thick in his tone, as the light from his torch finally reveals his features.

***

I woke with a start, Tony’s hand resting on my shoulder.

You okay, Hun? You were murmuring and getting quite upset.

Just a bad dream, I answered although I knew it was more than a dream. I could still feel his presence. But how could Trevalyn have been in Seth’s room? He was locked away somewhere far from here in one of Dad’s secure units. Not only physically restrained but in a mental prison of my making. Maybe my imagination was simply working overtime. It was just another nightmare. Surely?

CHAPTER 2

Ellingham Trevalyn Clinic: 20 December 2110

I’d had a restless night. Understandable I suppose. How could I sleep when I’d had a vision of Trevalyn at the clinic when he was supposed to be locked-up and guarded 24/7? Then there was the question about whether the voice I’d heard could be Seth’s PT – especially as he’d told me he didn’t have one!

For once I was lost in my own thoughts while I waited for the ecotram to take me up to the clinic. The door had started to close again before I’d realised the tram had arrived. I waved my wrist at the sensor and the chip implant activated the door-stall function.

Sorry, I automatically apologised to the Holo-Driver. It was easy to think of the interactive hologram as a flesh and blood driver – it was a very solid projection. And it was programmed to respond appropriately to any situation. Latecomers were nothing out of the ordinary so ‘Betty’ simply smiled as the door closed behind me.

The foggy weather added to my sense of disconnection. When the tram pulled up by the hospital I could just make out the illuminated ‘Trevalyn Clinic’ sign shining white and blue, and fuzzy edged in the gloom. I hated that the sign hadn’t been replaced yet despite the Johnson Foundation taking over in November and the mist made it appear even more sinister.

I walked into the Moderate Care Unit and immediately felt the wave of disapproval from Nurse Strickland. Tony had made it clear to her that I had unlimited access to the ward but she hated what she saw as my preferential treatment. It didn’t matter that the consultant had encouraged as much stimulation as possible to help revive the patient. She resented Seth’s private care and couldn’t stand the flagrant flouting of usual ward rules. ‘And now they’re letting her decorate the room like a stupid LightFest Grotto!’

I tried to keep my own anger at bay. She’d only just come to the clinic and had no idea what had happened. Like everyone outside our inner circle, she believed Seth had been a victim of an attack by a drug-addled Empty and couldn’t understand why that should warrant such special treatment. I wondered if there was a kind of weird quota that had to be filled when the clinics recruited staff. Did there always have to be a miserable, self-righteous and insensitive nurse on a ward to balance out all the good ones?

What do you think? I asked my silent boyfriend. Seth would’ve nudged me in the ribs and told me to shush. He always tried to see the best in people and often reminded me to do the same. "But sometimes they are just horrible people!" I whispered, shrugging my jacket off and picking up the box of LightFest junk that Tony had vetted for me. In fact, it looked like he’d managed to transform the paraphernalia into something quite classy and magical. It was a shame he wasn’t on duty yet – he would’ve enjoyed helping me with the décor. While I pottered around the room I gave Seth a running commentary – anything to fill the awful silence. I tied a tiny sprig of synthetic mistletoe above the bed and used it as the excuse to lean in and give him a kiss. The warmth from his lips always fooled me into thinking he was simply asleep and that, like the fairy tales we’d read as children, a kiss was the magical cure to wake him.

A-hem

I just managed to save myself from an embarrassing fall as I jerked away from the kiss.

I thought I’d better let you know I was here, Samuel said, trying hard not to laugh at my awkwardness. It looks very festive. His voice broke a little. He wasn’t expecting to celebrate LightFest while Seth remained comatose and oblivious to the passing months. He had a glint of unshed tears in his eyes and I felt I’d been cruel and insensitive to even think about doing this.

I’m sorry, I began, I can take it all down if you’d rather.

No. It’s fine, love. Seth would appreciate the effort. Not the sort of thing I’m good at, I’m afraid. Since Elizabeth’s death, Seth had been the one to bring out the relevant lights and baubles for each celebration and festival. For him it had been a way of keeping his mum with them at those times but Samuel worried that he’d never be able to recreate the warm festive atmosphere that Lizzy had seemingly managed so effortlessly. I wondered if I should try to get him involved but was saved the decision when Nina, Samuel’s PT, arrived with a tray of coffees.

I could not remember whether you take sugar? She waved a small package.

No, thanks, Nina. I gratefully took my coffee, realising I hadn’t had anything since breakfast and it was now lunchtime. I didn’t know you were back from Dorset, I continued. She’d been investigating lost Russian icons of the 19th and 20th centuries, trying to return as many as she could find to the museum she curated back in Kamrovskij. Her prolonged stay helped keep Samuel and me above the overwhelming despair that sometimes threatened to drown us as completely as the waters of Ellingham Lake had claimed Elizabeth.

The antiques dealer was very accommodating, she replied, with a gleam in her eye. Despite her demure appearance, Nina had Russian steel in her heart when it came to bringing her country’s treasures home. He has offered the precious icon to the museum on permanent loan. Isn’t that kind of him?

We all laughed.

Congratulations, I said. One day you’ll have to teach me how to negotiate Nina-style.

We sat for a while, drinking our coffee and chatting about Nina’s exploits. Sometimes I slipped up and could hear their inner conversation too. Nothing important or that I was embarrassed to hear but it did highlight how having a unique PT could be a great benefit. I remembered the flash connection I’d had the previous evening. If Seth did have a PT trying to link up maybe that could break through and bring him back to full consciousness. At a pause in the conversation I decided to share my own thoughts for a change.

Do either of you know who Seth’s PT is? I hadn’t spoken to anyone about his confession to me that he hadn’t connected and now I wasn’t even sure if he’d simply said that to make me feel better at the time.

Nina looked at me sharply as Samuel took a quick gulp of air. I’d broken the taboo of asking about someone’s PT outright. Especially as Seth wasn’t there to answer for himself.

Sorry, I said, rushing to explain my bad manners. It’s just … I think I might’ve heard someone trying to get through to him.

Samuel’s face paled and Nina reached out both her hand and her mind to reassure him.

How can you be sure? Maybe the PT is looking for another Seth. He never spoke of a connection. After everything that happened to you, I thought it best to wait until he felt able to talk to me about it. Samuel rubbed his hands along his twitching thighs as he spoke, trying to still his nervous foot-tapping.

I’m not sure, I replied, wishing I hadn’t started the conversation after all. It’s why I asked. I’m sorry I’ve upset you both. I stood and glanced towards the bed desperate to kiss Seth before I left but I realised I should go now before I said something else to hurt his dad and Nina.

Wait. Samuel rose and reached for me to stop me running out of the room. Have you … heard anything from him yet? He nodded towards Seth. His eyes mirrored my own desperation to connect with his son.

No, I whispered. But I couldn’t before. It’s not simply the coma keeping him away from me. At least I don’t think it is.

As I walked past the nurses’ station, Strickland stepped out to stop me.

If you continue to upset the patient and his family, I shall be obliged to report your behaviour, Ms Hanson, she said in a condescending tone.

I wasn’t in the mood for her attitude. Try it and see how far you get with that! Her shocked expression was comical to say