‘What are you doing?’ Hawkins slumped, breathless from the exertion, the pounding in her head now twice as intense. ‘You just woke him up.’

‘Yes.’ White removed the cloth, gently lowered Mike’s head to the floor. ‘I needed to check I hadn’t caused any major damage when I knocked him out.’

She shook her head, certain now that he was insane.

White returned to the holdall, depositing the bottle and cloth before lifting out something else from inside. Then he went back and knelt beside Mike, placing the item on the floor.

Hawkins’ sight was almost back to normal, but she still had to stare at the compact grey box to bring it into focus. Panic jolted through her when she realized what it was.

The defibrillator.

‘Wait,’ she said, ignoring the discomfort of speech. ‘He … doesn’t meet your criteria.’

White was adjusting the unit’s controls, apparently preoccupied. ‘What?’

‘All your victims thought they were possessed. That’s why you killed them, isn’t it?’

He looked up, apparently confused.

She continued, ‘You used their insecurities to draw them in. They came to you because they thought you could help.’

White laughed. ‘Their readiness to believe certain things made them vulnerable, yes, but that isn’t the reason I’m doing this.’ He paused, her silence prompting him to go on. ‘I’m sure you’re familiar with the idea of the soul leaving the body when someone dies.’ He motioned towards the defibrillator’s paddles. ‘Well, interrupt the heart’s rhythm and it arrests, triggering a quick death without damaging the host.’ He waved at the ceiling. ‘The spirit simply detaches itself.’

‘You’re sacrificing these people.’

‘Not at all.’ He began removing the duct tape binding Mike’s arms. ‘This concerns self-preservation.’

She frowned. ‘They were a threat to you?’

‘Don’t be so facile. I have no dispute with these people, but in this world, we profit only at another’s expense.’

‘But why? What do you gain from their deaths?’

‘Ah.’ He tapped his temple. ‘Well, it seems I have a tumour, inoperable, I’m told. The doctors give me six months, although just to make things a bit more interesting, they say it could rupture at any time. Science can’t help me, apparently, so I’m helping myself.’

Hawkins’ mind raced to comprehend what he was saying, but it felt sluggish; slow to respond.

White picked up on her confusion. ‘Modern society is ignorant of such matters, of course, but most spiritual doctrines agree that our consciousness isn’t tied to one physical form; it can be transferred. It’s a simple case of tenancy, except two individuals can’t occupy the same host.’

Hawkins blinked. ‘You want to … transfer your mind?’