Chapter 9
I lay there, not daring to move. I knew there was a lot more pain coming. When someone had pushed me down the cellar stairs in the Melbourne pub, the angle had been steeper, with concrete at the bottom. I’d had broken bones then. Here my face was ground into the pile at the bottom of shallow, carpeted stairs, but I wasn’t holding out any hope of a reprieve.
I forced my eyes open, blinked a few times, tried to focus. Feet pattered down the stairs behind me and I froze. Whoever had pushed me was going to check if I was dead. I closed my eyes, tried not to breath. The footsteps paused next to my head then continued down. I slitted my eyes and peered at the shape as it reached the bottom, but it was like looking at a wraith. All in black, no features, a dark ghost.
The person-shap
