Hell Calling Read Online Free PDF Page A

rear view mirror. There was a look of anxiety on the girl’s face, and she was twisting in her seat.
    ‘Do you need to be sick?’
    ‘I don’t know, it’s like a really strange pain.’
    The mother had a strange sense of foreboding, and wanted to concentrate on the road, at the same time trying to calm the girl.
    ‘If you prefer, we can stop, or I can lower the window and you’ll feel better.’
    ‘I think... I think I know what’s happening to me...’
    ‘No, please. Don’t start, Laura.’
    Alicia tried to keep one eye on the road and the other on her daughter. The girl gritted her teeth, as if trying to silence herself. And then suddenly she began to shout:
    ‘Mummy, Mummy, it really hurts!’
    Laura now twisted around with an inexplicable violence in the back seat of the car, and she continued to shout, with an ever more serious voice, that was less and less like her own.
    ‘Mummy, help me, they’re coming for me! Mummy, Mummy!’
    Alicia tried to control her nerves, but without wanting to, she accelerated. When she raised her eyes to look back at her daughter in the rear view mirror, she was able to see with her own eyes the most terrible sight she had ever seen: the girl’s face was contorted, in an expression of uncontrollable panic, her tongue sticking halfway out of her mouth, her cheeks bloated and her eyes were almost bulging out of her head; completely shining and red. Terrified, and with almost no control over herself or her actions, Alicia realised that they were approaching a bend at high speed, and she slammed her foot hard on the brake. Then she screamed; screamed with all the air in her lungs”.
    Carlos awoke, sweaty, and screamed with all his might; screamed like his wife had done in his dream. And he continued screaming for almost an hour, until he fell exhausted upon the bed.
    XVII
    The building was in the city centre, very well situated, in the most accessible spot. They had met at noon, and at that time of day the bustle was constant and overwhelming. In spite of everything, Carlos liked to feel surrounded by people, as if all of that human warmth would serve in some sense to alleviate his situation. It was as if all of those people, in a silent and mute way, were in solidarity with him. He had to address the person in the foyer:
    “Excuse me, I’m looking for Marta Sanchís?”
    “Erm... Yes, the psychologist: fourth floor, letter C.”
    “Thank you.”
    Carlos took the lift and could see that, although the building was well cared for, it must be more than sixty years old, and the lift was no less than 30, which did nothing in the way of reassuring him. When he knocked on the door to 4C, he was nervous, like a small child going to see the doctor for the first time.
    “Hello, Carlos. Thank you so much for coming.”
    “No, no, Marta; thank you so much for seeing me.”
    It was obvious that the apartment was her normal residence, in addition to being the place where she carried out her consultations. It was too well tidied, and there were too many closed doors along the passageway leading into the lounge, within which were two comfortable armchairs to one side, and an office desk with another armchair to the other.
    “It’s very nice.”
    “Thank you. Would you like anything to drink?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “In that case then, let’s sit down.”
    They each took a seat in the armchairs facing each other, close to a large window showing the balcony, which was full of plants and flowerpots. It was surely a simple technique to relax patients and give them confidence.
    “So... how is everything?”
    Carlos looked at the psychologist, and decided right from the outset to get straight to the point, believing that the best thing to do was just be honest.
    “I remember you warned me. My father also made some comment about it... I think I’m going mad.”
    Marta smiled, trying to ease the tension she could sense in the man, who was clearly in a state of desperation. She really did