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Back The Bad Place Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. THE BAD PLACE
  3. Contents
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. Acknowledgements
  71. About the author
  72. An Invitation from the Publisher

But her arm was yanked painfully behind her back and she was pushed forward. Slammed head first into a machine. Her forehead hit the glass of the screen, the noise was deafening against her ear, manic lights exploded in her vision. All she could see was a blur of red and yellow and blue. The symbols on the screen, fruits and numbers and coins and dollar signs, spun and stopped, spun again.

A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair to shove her into the machine again, and then her thoughts became sluggish and the strength ebbed from her legs. Her body wanted to slide to the floor despite her best intentions to stay upright, but the hand kept her pressed against the side of the machine.

‘You’re going to be sorry!’ She felt hot breath on her ear and a voice hissed, ‘You’ll know the truth about her!’

And then she was released and Sasha flopped on to the carpet beside the machine and lay there, struggling to find the strength to get to her feet.

Disorientated, the world flashing and whirling above her, noise and light detonating inside her head.

31

Crouched in front of Sasha, the paramedic said, ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

Sasha blinked. ‘Fifteen.’

The paramedic shook his head gravely at Vaughn.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Sasha. ‘I was joking. Someone with a sense of humour can’t possibly have concussion, I’m perfectly fine. Help me up, please, I need to get back to work.’

Vaughn climbed on to the back of the ambulance, where she was sitting on a trolley. ‘No, you’re not, you’re going home.’

‘Any dizziness or ringing in the ears? Do you feel nauseous?’ asked the paramedic.

‘I heard bells,’ Sasha said, ‘but that was probably the fruit machines.’

He tried to ask her another question, but Sasha ignored him, climbing from the ambulance with as much dignity as she could in front of hundreds of tourists. As far as she was concerned, the angry bump on her forehead looked worse than it actually was.

‘Vaughn, really, there’s too much to do, I need to get back—’

‘It wasn’t a suggestion, Sasha, I’m telling you, go home.’

‘There’s CCTV along here,’ she said, pointing at a camera on the top of a street lamp. ‘He’ll be captured on those.’

‘Look who you’re talking to.’ Vaughn pointed to his own face. ‘I know all that, we’ll get the footage, and tomorrow morning I’ll want a description of your attacker.’

‘Lydia will be able to give you a proper description,’ she said, feeling excitement that they could finally have a breakthrough. ‘And she has a number for him.’

They looked over to a patrol car where Lydia was sitting in the back talking angrily to Karin, her face a mess of tears and snot. ‘She’s in considerable distress, we’re not going to get anything from her tonight.’