Sleepwalkers (32 page)

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Authors: Tom Grieves

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BOOK: Sleepwalkers
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He patted his pockets, checking he had everything. ‘I hope I see you again. I don’t know what the plan is. But if they say I can come back, I’ll be glad.’

‘But you’ll do what they say.’

He nodded.

‘That’s me. That’s you. That’s everyone.’

TWENTY-ONE

Anna lay in her sleeping bag, thinking of her father, of his faltering gaze and the strange, awful silence that had engulfed and choked him. She had only ever thought of him as a man of utter confidence, until tonight. She tried to think back, remember other occasions when he had been cautious, unconfident, fearful even. But nothing came.

The night dragged past. She’d been surprised to find herself alone when she’d returned. She’d gone straight to her room and it was much later when she heard Toby and then Terry come back. There had been angry whispers which had then descended into giggles, but she couldn’t hear what they were talking about. Finally, much later again, Ben returned. She only knew this because his presence silenced the boys. She heard a grunt and a sigh as he settled down on the floor, then nothing more.

She woke with a start to see light creeping in behind the metal shutters. When she went next door, the others were already up. Toby and Terry were crouched in a corner, watching Ben who was sat on his own, brooding.

‘Morning,’ she said quietly. The boys mumbled something back, but Ben didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She went out to clean her teeth and have a pee, then returned to make herself some tea. The room was stuffy and smelly, and she had to fight the desire to hide away in her own quarters. She could feel the tension in the air. It was as if Ben were about to explode.

‘Ben,’ she said quietly.

If he heard her, he gave no sign of it. She’d made a decision in the night to tell him about her father, but his black mood made her uncertain. Her insides fluttered and when she put a hand on his shoulder he started in shock.

‘What?’ he barked. She took a step back from him.

‘Alright, take a pill, mate,’ said Terry from the other side of the room.

Ben glared at Terry for a moment before staring back down at the floor.

‘What happened to you last night?’ Anna asked.

‘Nothing.’ His clipped tone killed any response.

‘Yeah, you were back well late,’ said Toby. ‘What’s that about?’

‘None of your business, kid,’ Ben replied.

‘You were back late too,’ she said to Toby. He just stared down at the floor. Terry gave him a knowing nudge and the two boys started giggling. This seemed to wind Ben up even more.

‘I’m going out,’ he said, jumping to his feet.

‘Where?’ she asked.

‘Anywhere, I don’t know. Back to the lab, maybe.’

‘What?’ said Toby, scrambling up. ‘Don’t go there!’

‘Well what else can we do?’

‘But they’ll get you!’

‘So you stay here,’ Ben replied. He was always more gentle with Toby, Anna noticed. He crossed his arms, then stuffed his hands in his pockets, uneasy as Toby pestered him.

‘But I feel safer with you.’

‘If you go out and they get you,’ added Terry, ‘then they’ll know we’re here.’

‘You want to sit here for the next year?’ Ben replied. ‘What else have we got?’

We have my father, thought Anna. She was about to speak when Toby hit Ben hard in the arm.

‘You selfish git!’ he cried. Ben barely flinched. ‘If you bugger off now, you won’t come back, will you?’

‘I will,’ Ben replied, but Anna saw how he avoided the boy’s eye.

‘You’ve got it all sussed,’ Toby continued, red-faced. ‘You know what happened to you, sort of. I don’t have that, I don’t have anything. What are all these bloody scars about? How am I going to find that out without you?’

‘I don’t think chasing the past will help. From what I’ve found out, you’re better off—’

‘Don’t give me advice when you’re abandoning me.’

‘I’m not your dad, kid!’

‘Yeah, I got that. Thanks. But then you left your real kids, so what does it matter?’

Ben stiffened at this. ‘Shut up. Yeah?’

‘You think I’d want you to be my dad?’

‘Okay, Toby,’ said Anna, ‘that’s enough now.’

‘I JUST WANT SOME FUCKING ANSWERS!’ he shouted. ‘I can’t just bugger off like you. I’m too young, too … everything.
My dad wouldn’t leave me. He was always there. Always. He was the best. And that doesn’t make sense. Nothing, nothing makes …’ Toby stopped, upset. When he continued, he was quieter.

‘Dad would always be testing me, always trying to make sure I was strong and independent and able to stand up for myself. He was watching out for me, see? Even when he was harsh and a bit cruel I knew he was just doing it to make me stronger. Like, one time, I was on a beach with him and I let my kite slip out of my hands. And it flew up, high up, away from the sea, landed on the top of the cliffs. And he—’

‘Made you go get it with him,’ said Ben.

‘Yes,’ said Toby, surprised by the interruption.

‘And at the top, the field was covered in thistles and stinging nettles,’ said Ben, ‘but he made you walk through it anyway, even though you were in shorts and sandals.’

Anna felt the blood pounding in her head. She saw Toby stare in shock at Ben and noticed that Terry was also absorbed and confused by his story. She had to lean back against the wall for balance.

‘I have the same memory,’ said Ben to Toby, not noticing Anna. ‘Me and my father. I let go of the kite because my hand was slippery from sunscreen.’

Anna felt the nausea rising inside her.

‘I thought that one was real,’ said Ben sadly.

Anna ran out of the room, pushing past them and staggering down the corridor. She was sick before she reached the end. Her stomach cramped and she doubled over, falling onto her knees. She didn’t move until the final wave passed and she spat the last of it out onto the floor. She stood up, sucking
in air, gazing down at the mess. What did it matter? She spat again for good measure.

When she returned to the room, they all stared at her, waiting for an explanation. She walked through to the other room and drank some water, swilling some around her mouth to clear away the taste. And then she went back and finished Ben and Toby’s story for them. Their stunned expressions offered her no comfort.

‘My father,’ she explained, ‘works for the company that owns the building we visited – the lab. I didn’t know, I only found out yesterday. I think I’m the link between them and you. I think they’ve given you my memories.’

She shook slightly as she said the words. It was as though she was always out of breath.

Terry lit a cigarette. ‘Why do you think they’re your memories, Miss?’ he asked.

‘Because, well, it would make sense, that he took them from me. I’m the link to him and then he—’

‘What if you’re just like Ben and Toby?’

‘But I don’t have nightmares. Or any dreams or … anything like that.’

‘Maybe the teacher bit is the dream. Maybe you were put there to meet Toby, to help him escape from his parents. Get him here.’

She looked at Toby and found he was watching her warily. They were suddenly isolated by suspicion.

‘So what about Ben?’ she argued. ‘I didn’t find him, did I?

‘No, he just happened to spot Toby on the internet. Among a billion uploads, he just lucked out and saw him. Jesus, why didn’t I see that before? No wonder he found us so easily. He was led all the way.’

‘I don’t understand what’s going on,’ Toby whimpered.

Anna turned to face Terry. ‘What are you saying?’

‘He’s saying,’ said Ben, taking Terry’s cigarette off him and taking a deep drag, ‘that we are doing just what they want. We always have. Awake or asleep.’ He handed the cigarette back. ‘You realise that means you’re a part of their plans too.’

‘Sod that,’ Terry replied without much conviction.

‘But why? What do they want?’ she protested. ‘It’s like, we could run, we could go anywhere, but how would we know that we’re still not just following orders?’

Ben just shrugged. It was as if he’d finally given up.

‘We know what you were for, Ben,’ said Terry. ‘You killed people for them. I guess the point was, if you were ever caught, you’d look all confused and the papers would run a story about a nutter doing some random act of violence. God, I wonder how many of those were really true.’

‘And me?’ said Toby. ‘I didn’t hurt anyone. I just … got hurt.’

‘Maybe you were in training, or something.’ The words seemed stupid, but everything seemed stupid and everything seemed terrifying, and Anna had no idea how to tell the difference.

‘What do we do?’ she said. ‘Do we stay here, do we run? What?’

‘If they haven’t got us, maybe they don’t know where we are,’ suggested Toby hopefully.

‘Or they’re waiting for the right time to use us.’ Terry sucked on his cigarette, thinking. ‘Maybe Toby’s going to do some loony shoot-out at college or school.’

‘No I won’t.’

‘Maybe you will. Maybe, Anna, maybe you’ll …’

‘Maybe I’ll go mad and stab some of my pupils? It’s ridiculous.
And it doesn’t explain why we’re here, all here together. And it doesn’t explain why you’re here too.’

‘Why do all that stuff to me if I’m just going to end up dead anyhow?’ Toby argued. ‘This isn’t right, we haven’t got it right, there’s something else, there has to be!’

‘It’s something to do with us being together,’ said Ben. ‘Us four. Why do they want us together?’

Anna looked at each of them in turn, noticing them doing the same, but they were banging against a locked door.

Finally Toby broke the silence. ‘No one’s making me do a thing.’ He spat the words out.

‘And how will you stop them?’ said Terry.

‘I’m free now.’

‘Bullshit. None of us are free. No one.’

Anna imagined the kite slipping from her tiny hands and the way she lost sight of it in the glaring sun. She remembered turning to her father and the expression on his face as he dragged his eyes from his book to her tearful face. She tried to imagine Toby doing exactly the same thing, then Ben. She felt as though something had been stolen from her.

‘Well, if they want to keep us together, then we should split up,’ she said.

Ben nodded, pleased to hear this.

‘But first, we’re going to see my father.’

‘Yeah, sweet,’ sneered Terry. ‘Gonna ask Daddy to make it all stop, are you?’

‘In a manner of speaking,’ Anna replied. Her voice was gruff.

‘And what if he says no? I mean, he might be a big cheese, but I imagine that the company’s plans might not include making U-turns because Daddy’s girl says pretty please.’

Anna didn’t bother to reply. She looked at Ben – are you ready?

‘Seriously, Miss. What are you going to do when he blows smoke up your arse?’

‘I’ll kill him,’ she replied. And right there, right then, she meant it. If he wasn’t her father, if all her memories were false, then he was merely a stranger, a cruel torturer.

She buttoned up her coat and walked out. Her walk seemed more confident, as though she’d found an old part of herself from deep inside. Ben caught up with her and looked at her. She nodded at him, confident and purposeful. It was time for some answers.

TWENTY-TWO

The drive was understandably quiet. It had taken Ben ages to steal another car and Anna seemed far less confident when he finally picked her up. She fidgeted in the passenger seat, directing him towards her father’s office. As they headed there, they worked out a plan. Henry Price was a man of habit and would leave the office for lunch at one o’clock. It was then that they would take him. Ben would knock him unconscious and they’d dump him in the boot before heading back to the squat. Once there, in one of the basement rooms, deep underground, isolated by thick concrete walls, they would finally get their answers. Ben didn’t believe that Anna was actually capable of hurting her father. But he was. All she had to do was point him out.

The Rylance Group had several offices scattered across the globe. Henry worked in a smart but nondescript building in the centre of the city. They drove past it and Ben glanced through the glass frontage to see a bored security guard reading the paper at an otherwise unmanned desk. It looked just like any other office.

‘He’ll come out from the lift and stop to talk to that guy,’ said Anna. ‘He’ll know his first name and all about his wife and family. He’s like that.’ It was sort of a boast and sort of an apology. Ben drove on and parked around the corner. He checked his watch and switched off the engine. They were early.

‘I go up to him, stop him, and then you come from behind and you hit him,’ said Anna.

‘You said.’

‘Yes, but I just … yes.’

She put her hands flat on her lap. And then her feet started tapping. ‘Just don’t hit him too hard, just enough to—’

‘Anna, I know what to do.’

She drifted into silence for a while, then said, ‘Should we be parked here this long? We might attract attention?’

He saw her feet go still for a moment then start to tap quietly again. He understood her nerves, he felt them himself. They were close to answers, to the truth. Finally. And he had no concerns about what might be needed to get it. A shiver slipped through him. Anna saw it.

‘Are you scared too?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he answered, but his voice was a little hoarse.

Ben stared ahead. They’d parked in a small side street between Henry’s office and the small cafe that he liked to frequent. It was the obvious cut-through and he would come this way. Ben checked his watch. Half an hour to go, and then Anna would slip out of the car and confront her father as he turned into the street. And then he would get to work. He felt that shiver again and noticed that Anna was looking at him.

‘I was thinking about my wife,’ he said. ‘I was thinking about the time we first met.’

It had been at a Christmas party; a work do at his boss’s house which none of the guys from the garage had been keen on going to. But duty called and so they scrubbed up, put on their best clothes and made a deal to get out of there as soon as it didn’t look too rude. Ben had always been awkward at those sort of things and soon found himself standing alone, clutching a warm glass of white wine, watching his workmates chat happily to strangers. Everyone else smiled and chatted as though it were the easiest thing in the world. He had tried to join in, but a faltering conversation with a smart woman who kept staring over his shoulder soon spluttered into silence and he was back on his own, in the corner, trying to edge his way out of everyone’s eyeline but being pushed forward by an oversized prickly plant in a huge terracotta pot. It was as though the plant were egging him on: go socialise, loser.

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