Then a prison officer barged in, claiming that this was setting Robertson's rehabilitation back years. Alec shrugged. 'You'll be fine.' Logan groaned and went back to scowling at the scenery.
Heather lay back on the smelly mattress and stared up into the blackness. Dark. No sound. No light. No idea of time. Beginning to wonder if she was already dead - if she'd passed away and just not noticed. She couldn't even cry any more. She'd lain for what felt like years, bawling her eyes out, sobbing for her husband and child, until there was simply nothing left. Not even-- 'Are you OK?' Heather screamed, scurrying back into the corner, flailing her arms around, trying to ward off the voice. 'Jesus, Heather, you look like a complete spaz. Calm down for fuck's sake.' 'D ... Duncan?' She peered into the dark. 'But ... you can't be ...' One minute there was no one there, and the next: Duncan, wearing that goofy smile that always appeared when he thought he'd just done something awfully clever. Like coming back from the dead.'Ta- da!' There was a hole in the top of his head. It glowed bright red, glittering in his hair, making it shine like a scarlet halo. Heather closed her eyes and punched herself in the stomach again. 'Come on, Honey, stop it.' Teeth gritted. Another punch, torturing the already bruised skin. 'Heather! Stop it! Stop!' Duncan grabbed her hand. 'Stop.' 'Let go of me - you're dead!' 'Shhhh ... it's OK, it's OK.' 'No it isn't! I--' 'Justin misses his mummy.' 'He ...' Tears ran down her cheeks. 'He's alive? Oh thank--' 'I'm sorry, Honey: everybody's dead, but you.' 'Noooooo ...' She went limp and let her dead husband rock her in his arms. 'Shhhh ...' He kissed the top of her head and she found her tears again. 'You've been through a lot, and you've not been taking your pills, have you?' Heather could barely get the words out:'Duncan ... I'm ... so sorry ...' She cried and cried and cried. Then the sobbing trailed off and she just lay there, being held. 'There you go, feel better?' He smiled down at her wet face. 'I meant what I said: everything's OK, really.' She almost laughed. 'I'm trapped in a little metal box, everyone I love is dead, and I'm talking to a ghost. How
