Dead Tomorrow

lecherous smile, to have any encouragement from her.
    She just wanted to go home. Home. Hometo Romeo, to the dog, to the screaming baby. To the people who cared about her. To her family.
    He was stopping the car. The street was dark, and she had no idea where she was. He was opening the rear door and climbing in. Pushing himself next to her. He had banknotes in his hand. ‘Good money!’ he said, grinning. He pressed them into her hand, then unzipped himself.
    She stared at him as he wiggled his erection out of his trousers. Stared at the tattoo of the striking snake that rose from his shirt collar.
    ‘Good money!’ he said.
    Then he grabbed her hair, just like the man had done, and pulled her face down on to his erection.
    She closed her lips over the head, then bit, as hard as she could, until she could taste blood in her mouth, until her ears were ringing with his screams. Then she grabbed the door handle, pulled it down, pushed with all her strength, stumbled out and ran into the night.
    She ran without stopping, lost and disoriented, through an endless maze of dark streets and closed shops, knowing that if she kept running, kept running, kept running, she would eventually find somewhere she recognized, somewhere that would give her bearings and take her back to her home under the road.
    In the blindness of her panic as she ran, she did not see that the black car, driven erratically but keeping a safe distance, was following her.

21
    After driving for severalminutes through the labyrinth of the Royal South London Hospital grounds, Lynn halted the Peugeot in frustration in the driveway outside the Emergency entrance, as the way ahead was barred by a metal barrier. It was just after half past nine in the evening.
    ‘Jesus!’ she said, exasperated. ‘How the hell is anyone supposed to find their way around here?’
    It was the same every time; they always got lost here. Construction work was going on constantly and the liver unit was never in the same building twice–at least, that was how it seemed to her. And since the last time, a good two years ago, the whole traffic layout appeared to have changed.
    She stared around in frustration at the institutional-looking buildings surrounding them. Tall monoliths, a mish-mash of architectural styles. Close to the car was a barrage of red, yellow and pale green signs and she had to strain to read them in the glow from the street lighting. None contained the name of the wing she was looking for, the Rosslyn Wing, which she had been told to access via the Bannerman Wing.
    ‘Must be in the wrong place,’ Caitlin said, without looking up from her texting.
    ‘Is that what you think?’ Lynn asked, more good-humouredly than she felt.
    ‘Uh huh. Like, if we were in the right place, we’d be there, wouldn’t we?’ She tapped her keys in furious concentration.
    Despite her tiredness and herfear and her frustration, Lynn found herself grinning at her daughter’s curious logic. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Quite right.’
    ‘I’m always right. Just have to ask me. I’m like the Oracle.’
    ‘Perhaps the Oracle could tell me which way to go now.’
    ‘I think you’ll have to start by reversing.’
    Lynn backed a short distance, then stopped alongside more signs. Hopgood Wing, she read. Golden Jubilee Wing. Main Hospital Entrance. Variety Club Children’s Outpatients. ‘Where the hell is Bannerman?’
    Caitlin looked up from her texting. ‘Chill, woman. It’s like a television game, you know?’
    ‘I hate it when you say that!’
    ‘What, television game ?’ Caitlin teased.
    ‘ Chill, woman! OK? I don’t like it when you say that.’
    ‘Yep, well, you are so stressed. You’re stressing me.’
    Lynn looked behind her and began reversing again.
    ‘Life’s a game,’ Caitlin said.
    ‘A game? What do you mean?’
    ‘It’s a game. You win–you live, you lose–you die.’
    Lynn brought the car to a sudden halt and turned to face Caitlin. ‘Is that what you really think, darling?’
    ‘Yep! They’ve hidden my new liver somewhere in this complex. We have to find it! If I find it in time, I live. If I don’t, tough shit!’
    Lynn giggled. She put an arm around Caitlin’s shoulders and pulled her close, kissing her head, breathing in the scents of her hair shampoo and gel. ‘God, I love you so much, darling.’
    Caitlin shrugged, then in a deadpan voice said, ‘Yep, well, I’m quite worth loving really.’
    ‘Sometimes!’ Lynnretorted. ‘Only