Hope and Undead Elvis - By Ian Thomas Healy Page 0,40

Christ on the Cross hung on the wall opposite her bed where her eyes would naturally fall upon it. She wondered where she was. Had she been dreaming? Vague, unsettling memories of the world ending and burning death lurked at the edges of her consciousness like a half-remembered dream.

Then she felt fluttering movement in her belly, and she gasped. She was pregnant! She remembered that much. Her hands flew to her stomach. Once it had been taut. Now it had a gentle swell. She marveled at the change and the feel of independent motion deep within herself.

Hope smiled, and tears rolled down her cheeks to soak her pillow. "It's alive," she whispered. "The baby's moving, Elvis."

Elvis? Why had she said that? She remembered a companion, a shadow beside her. He must have been the baby's father. But where was he? And where was she?

And why couldn't she remember?

A gasp and clatter of falling crockery startled Hope. She turned her head to look and the dizziness threatened to spill her right out of the world. A young woman in a light blue nun's habit stood in the doorway, her hands to her mouth as if holding in a shriek. An overturned tray lay at her feet where water from a fallen basin puddled.

Her senses reeling, Hope raised a hand toward the woman, who gathered up her skirt and fled. Hope could hear her calling out as she ran away, "Sister Agatha! Sister Agatha!"

That suggested to Hope that she was in a hospital of some sort, but her room was missing the traditional accessories like IV stands and electric monitors. Looking up, she also noted there weren't even any overhead lights. Maybe not a hospital.

"Oh shit," she said aloud as an idea overwhelmed her sense of decorum. "Am I in a convent?"

"Yes, child," said a voice. Hope looked over to see an old woman in a faded habit standing in the door. She had a kindly, wrinkled face but also the air of someone used to being obeyed without question. "Welcome to St. Mary's. How are you feeling?"

Hope laid back against the pillow and rested her hands across the new bulge of her belly. "Disoriented. And thirsty. And really, really hungry."

The old woman turned to the young nun who had first discovered Hope. She spoke in a loud voice with exaggerated enunciation. "Sister Rae, please bring some meal mush and water for our guest."

"Yes, Sister Agatha." The younger woman left again.

The word mush made Hope's appetite sharpen. She was starving, but not for that! She wanted a cheeseburger, and pasta, and she'd have gotten up and danced naked for ice cream. She'd never taken pregnancy cravings seriously until now. "What happened to me? How did I get here?" asked Hope.

"You don't remember?" Sister Agatha sat down on a stool beside Hope's bed and took her wrist with cool, strong fingers, checking her pulse.

Hope dug into the great black gap in her memory. "I remember swimming. I was swimming in the woods. And driving. Also in the woods." The fleeting memory escaped her once more and she shook her head. "That's all, and it's not very clear. The last thing I remember..." She sighed. "I'm sorry, I guess I don't remember anything really."

"What's your name, child?"

"Hope. Hope… um, just Hope, I guess."

"Hope is a lovely name. I'm sorry to tell you that you were in a car accident. A noisy one, for we heard it here during devotions."

"An accident?" Hope held her belly with both hands, afraid for her unborn child. "But… my baby."

Sister Agatha's eyes wrinkled as she smiled. "As far as we can tell, your baby is fine. We've been much more worried about you."

"Me? Am I hurt bad?"

"Not now," said Agatha. "But you were." Sister Rae returned to the room with a bowl of porridge and a clay mug of water on a tray. She set it across Hope's lap and brushed her fingers across the back of Hope's hand, as if to verify she was real.

"But I don't feel hurt…" Hope clutched at Agatha's hand in fear. "How long have I been here?"

"Three months, child."

Hope gasped. Three months! Memories flooded in upon her as her brain unlocked moment after moment. The world ended. Gabrial. Asher. Mercy. The car crashing into the deer and the world tumbling around and around and pain everywhere. And through it all had been…

"Was… was there anyone with me? In the car, I mean."

"No, child. We didn't find anyone else. We were lucky to even