Greg found him two hours later. He stumbled in to the flat, thinking through his alcoholic daze, that it was odd that the door was wide open. What he saw on the loungeroom floor sobered him instantly.
David’s breathing was ragged. He was curled up in a foetal position, one whole arm at a strange, unnatural angle behind his body, blood circling him like a river around a mountain. He was shaking slightly, but seemed unconscious.
Greg dialled 000 immediately. An ambulance came. The police. No, Greg didn’t know anything. David was rushed to hospital, still unconscious. He had no testimony yet to give the police officers.
‘Did he have any enemies?’ the police asked Greg.
‘Not that I knew of,’ Greg answered mechanically.
David spent the first night in intensive care. After that, while broken and depleted, he was considered past the critical phase and was moved to a shared room in the men’s ward. His doctor catalogued his injuries to him. Dislocated shoulder – now re-adjusted back – broken fingers on both hands, broken ribs – two – dislocated jaw, broken teeth – emergency dental work done, much to follow for comfort and cosmetic reasons, bruising and sprains over most of his body, lower back damage that he was lucky hadn’t been sufficiently violent to break his back but –‘that was close’. Probably only one or two kicks away from a wheelchair, he thought to himself. Was he lucky? Perhaps he was.
How was Lisa?
He realized he didn’t even know her second name so he couldn’t check if she was also in this hospital. Besides, if she was convalescing somewhere, it may not be here. There were many hospitals in Sydney and he didn’t know where she lived either, so he didn’t know which one would have been closest.
Would she have reached a hospital though? Didn’t she live alone? He couldn’t remember. Where would he be if he hadn’t had a flatmate?
He spewed his fears and worries out to the police when they visited. He had no compunction in accusing Andrew. He knew, dully, that Andrew would have the money and connections to get good legal representation, and that in accusing him he may well be inviting another attack upon himself, but it was the only way to help Lisa. It was all he could do.
(c) Helen M Valentina 2016, All Rights Reserved
Well, glad David got help. I can imagine the story from Andrew.
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Thanks, yes. All a bit grim! 🙂
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