May

by Gabrielle Lord

  I jumped to my feet, pointing to the screen.

  ‘That’s my mother!’ I yelled over the volume of the TV, as I watched her being stretchered into the back of the ambulance. ‘She’s been hurt!

  I’ve gotta get to her!’

  ‘Turn it down!’ shouted a voice.

  ‘Please, turn the TV down!’ begged another.

  ‘The juvenile, an attempted murder suspect,’ continued the newsreader, ‘has been on the run since January. Police have called for witnesses, and information from local residents, but warn members of the public not to approach Ormond if he is seen in the area, as he is believed to be armed.’

  ‘Your mother?’ shrieked the pale guy I’d been talking to before the TV was turned up. ‘Are they replacing her too? We’ve gotta stop this! They’re taking over the world!’

  I could barely hear his words over the volume of the TV and the many shouts and moans to shut it off, but I watched as he ran to the door of the recreation room and began pounding on it, yelling at the top of his voice, ‘They’re taking over the world! Can’t you see? Someone’s got to stop them doing this, before we’re all changed! Before it’s too late!’

  Mum! Was she going to be OK? What had happened? Was Sligo guilty of this attack? Dr Snudgeglasser might have told him that I didn’t have the documents, so Sligo could be turning his attention back on my family!

  I started running towards the doors which had finally opened after the strange guy’s hysterical thumping.

  My blood was hot with rage and my head pounded so powerfully that it took me a few seconds to realise that the screaming of the patients, the blare of the TV and the thumping on the door had actually been taken over by an alarm siren ringing throughout the asylum.

  The strange guy who’d been with me had bashed his way past whoever had opened the door and was now on the loose in a fit of rage. Somewhere, I could hear him yelling and throwing things around.

  The place erupted in panic. Frantic footsteps ran in every direction. People were yelling out, their voices fused with the siren’s wailing into a cacophony.

  The door to the recreation room was swinging wide open, overlooked in the emergency! This could be my chance, I thought. I had to find my way to Mum!

  Musclehead’s hoarse voice yelled from down the hallway. ‘Vernon’s on the loose! Vernon’s on the loose! Emergency stations!’

  ‘And one of my carving knives is missing from the kitchen!’ screeched another voice.

  I ran into the corridor where orderlies and nurses were flying in every direction. Gilda raced after Musclehead, and they all raced around after the big baby-faced guy who held the gleaming kitchen knife out in front of him. I seemed to have been forgotten. Perfect!

  Unnoticed, I ran to the glass double doors, but they were locked! Of course they would be—the place had gone into complete lockdown with Vernon on the rampage.

  I wondered where Dr Snudgeglasser was, and as much as I disliked the guy, I hoped he’d locked himself away somewhere safe. Would Vernon try and free the ‘real’ Dr Snudgeglasser by using the knife? I shuddered at the thought.

  The alarm was still screaming and I ran around in a frenzy as I tried to work out what to do. The reception office, halfway down the hall, had emptied for the chase.

  I skidded into the office. This was my chance to contact Boges! I grabbed the phone. The line was dead! I couldn’t believe it!

  The desktop computer was humming away. I crouched over one of the keyboards, the ear-piercing siren filling my head and making it almost impossible to concentrate. My fingers were trembling with anxiety, but after fumbling a little I opened the email system.

  I could hear voices again. The chase must be heading back this way! I had to be quick!

  I was about to add more when I heard footsteps in the hallway coming even closer. I hit ‘Send’, deleted the email from the ‘Sent’ folder, and was halfway out of the seat when someone appeared at the doorway.

  I froze with fear when I turned and was met with a knife-wielding hand. The razor-sharp edge was just centimetres from my face as Vernon, the big baby-faced guy, twisted it unsteadily in front of me.

  ‘Vernon, what are you doing, buddy?’ I said as calmly as I could.

  ‘Just … just checking,’ he said, as he peered intensely into my eyes, his breath hot on my cheek. His own eyes were open wide and almost bulging from his reddened face. The knife continued to twist, so close to me that I was catching glimpses of my reflection in its steely surface.

  ‘You’re OK, for now,’ he said, backing off a little, satisfied that my eyes were unaffected. ‘But the others … I’ve got to help them.’ Tears trembled on his white eyelashes then rolled down his face. ‘I’ve got to save them from being replaced. You know that’s really bad—to replace people. Really bad.’

  ‘It is bad,’ I agreed. ‘I do know something about that, but maybe there’s something else we could do about it together. What do you say?’

  As well as feeling scared stiff, I was really sad to see him like this.

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Vernon, glancing round the office. ‘Where’s Dr Snudgeglasser?’

  ‘He’s not here,’ I said. ‘Maybe,’ I said, trying to keep my voice from wobbling, ‘it would be a good idea to put that knife down. If you want to warn people about being replaced, it’s probably best not to scare them with knives.’

  He looked down at the knife in his hand and then back at me.

  There was a long moment when Vernon and I just stared at each other. He sniffed a bit and wiped his nose with the back of his other hand. But he still held onto the knife. There was no way I could get past him. Neither of us knew what to do next.

  I realised then that Musclehead and Gilda had located us and were watching from the doorway, carefully working out a safe way to approach.

  Vernon swung round at a small sound behind him, but it was too late. Musclehead and Gilda loomed up behind him and took him down. Another guy ran in, knelt on his back and wrenched the knife from his hand. I watched as the three of them dragged him towards the staircase. Vernon looked up at me with tearful eyes.

  The way he looked at me with such sadness and desperation reminded me of the crazy guy on the street in Richmond who had first warned me about the Ormond Singularity, and surviving three hundred and sixty-five days … He’d looked at me with the same kind of fear and anguish in his face as he’d been dragged away by the paramedics.

  I’d just scraped through another day, alive. I staggered with relief and almost fell over a wheelchair behind me.

  ‘What are you doing in here, Ben?’ Gilda said, returning suddenly, alerted by the clattering of the chair.

  ‘I didn’t know where to run,’ I said. ‘I was scared. I was hiding from him.’

  She hurried over to the phone and picked it up. ‘He cut the phone line. Can you believe it?’

  I held my breath. Would she still be able to find my email on the computer? I didn’t think so. She gave me a long look, ordered me outside and locked the office door behind us both.

  It took a long time for everything to settle down after Vernon’s wild siege, but eventually everyone was controlled and locked up back in their rooms. Including me.

  Dinner came around quite late, but I didn’t have much of an appetite. An eerie silence hung in the stale air. Who knew what they’d done with poor, delusional Vernon?

  My brain felt like mush. Boges would be desperate to know where I was and I hoped he would find a way to help me before too long. I also hoped he was over our fight at the boathouse. I recalled his furious face, the two lines on his brow pulled into one angry furrow: ‘I don’t care how cute she is,’ he’d yelled about Winter. ‘Her friends have tried to kill you! What is it about attempted murder you don’t understand?’

  Then I recalled the scary scene I’d seen on the television newsflash—Mum lying on a stretcher with her eyes closed. Who would be checking in on Gabbi if Mum was in a hospital bed herself? Rafe? Where was he? Was he OK?
My stomach was churning with anxiety and worry.

  227 days to go …

  I was woken out of a restless sleep, where I’d been haunted yet again by the heartbroken wails of a baby and the dark sense of desolation at the core of my recurring nightmare. Someone was banging on my door. I struggled to find the energy to sit up in my bed—I’d wandered around like a zombie for the last few days, lost and without any sense of purpose.

  I blinked as Gilda put her head around the door.

  ‘It’s nearly three in the afternoon! Time you got up, young man. You have visitors,’ she said.

  I sat up, suddenly nervous.

  ‘Visitors?’

  ‘Yes, visitors!’ she said gruffly.

  The picture of Mum being stretchered into the ambulance rushed back. What if Rafe had finally located me and had bad news for me about Mum?

  ‘Are you surprised that your friends have come to visit you? Dr Snudgeglasser thinks it’s a good idea—socialising, seeing your friends. Hopefully you’ll remember the life you’ve left behind, Ben.’

  ‘Friends?’ I was puzzled. Gilda had used a plural. So it wasn’t Rafe. But my relief was short lived. What if it was the sumo wrestler and Kelvin? Or Sligo? Or Oriana?

  ‘What are their names?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know!’ she said. ‘They’re waiting for you in the recreation room. Hurry up and get dressed. But first, Dr Snudgeglasser wants to see you.’

  All the way down to the doctor’s office, I worried about who these so-called friends were. Was I about to be attacked or dragged off to some other prison? I began preparing myself for anything.

  At first Dr Snudgeglasser looked fatter than usual, but then I realised he was wearing a thick, panelled kind of protective vest under his sports coat. Vernon’s recent rampage must have freaked him out.

  ‘Ben,’ he said, ‘Vulkan Sligo obviously isn’t the monster you believe him to be. He must have confidentially contacted your friends and informed them of your admission. Visiting rights are a privilege here. And whether or not you can see your friends will depend on your cooperation.’

  I wanted to tell him about seeing Mum on the TV and why I had to get out, but stopped myself. Right now I had to be Ben Galloway, obedient and ready to do anything that Dr Snudgeglasser or Vulkan Sligo might ask.

  ‘I’ll cooperate,’ I said, sitting down in front of him. ‘Anything you say.’

  ‘You have been very cooperative the last few days, which means you’re making good progress. Are you willing yet to tell me the location of the documents that Mr Sligo needs?’

  I took a few moments to think carefully. If I told the truth again, that I didn’t know where they were, I guessed I wouldn’t be allowed to see whoever these friends were. But to do that, I had to come up with an answer that would please Dr Snudgeglasser. I had a sudden inspiration.

  ‘It’s true that I don’t actually have them right now,’ I said, ‘but I do know who does have them—Ms Oriana de la Force, solicitor. She’s looking after them.’ I watched Dr Snudgeglasser writing it down. ‘Tell Mr Sligo. He could organise to pick them up from Ms de la Force’s office.’

  Dr Snudgeglasser looked up at me.

  ‘Not long ago you claimed Ms de la Force abducted you,’ he said.

  ‘I know. I lied, I’m sorry. I can’t help myself sometimes. I get carried away, making up stories. But I’m not lying now. She has the documents. I have no reason to make that up.’

  ‘I really hope that’s right,’ he said. ‘For both our sakes, Ben.’

  I wasn’t sure if it was a good move or not, but it would put Sligo and Oriana de la Force at each other’s throats, I hoped, and it would give me a little space.

  Dr Snudgeglasser pressed the button on his desk and Gilda arrived to escort me away.

  ‘You may see your friends, Ben,’ said the doctor. ‘But if this turns out to be another part of your confabulation, they’ll be the last friends you see.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that.

  ‘Your visitors are waiting in the recreation room, Ben,’ said Gilda as we walked down the corridor, her strong hand gripping my upper arm. ‘I’ve got some reports to catch up on, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.’

  The second I walked into the recreation room, I saw the reason for the word ‘friends’. A massive smile stretched across my face, and I realised I hadn’t smiled in a long time.

  ‘Man, it is so good to see you!’ I called out as I ran over to Boges, who was sitting at the table near the window. He jumped up and swung an arm around me.

  ‘Dude, it is so good to see you!’

  I stepped back and looked over to the other side of the table.

  ‘Winter,’ I said, confused about why Boges had brought her with him.

  ‘Hi, Ben,’ she said, using my fake name.

  I remembered the last time I’d seen her at the cenotaph, right before Sligo’s black Subaru turned up. Right before the boathouse was trashed and I was knocked out.

  ‘She’s cool,’ said Boges, as if that should explain everything.

  Winter was wearing big, red, heart-shaped sunglasses that hid the upper part of her face, but she slowly took them off, all the time holding my gaze. She had on a skirt and white Converse sneakers, and a knitted beanie over her long hair which flowed over the shoulders of a long, grey cardigan.

  ‘So you got my email,’ I said to Boges. ‘One day I’ll tell you what was going on when I sent it! I’ve been going crazy in here!’

  ‘Cal,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ve been going crazy worrying about you. I even checked the car yard. I thought you might have been floating in an oil tank. Or floating face-down in the harbour. It is so good to see your ugly face.’

  ‘Yours too,’ I said. ‘I’m alive, but I have to get out of here. What’s happened to Mum?’

  Boges and Winter looked at each other, carefully.

  ‘Your mum is OK,’ said Boges. ‘I talked to Marjorie, your old neighbour, last night after she’d visited your mum. The police say she walked in on an intruder. She was knocked out—she needed a few stitches, that’s all. She’s still in hospital, but apparently she’s coming home tomorrow. Then we’ll get the full story. Don’t worry about her. She’s going to be perfectly fine.’

  ‘But what about Gabbi?’ I asked. ‘And Rafe? Where was he?’

  ‘Gab’s OK. She still hasn’t woken up, but she’s getting there, I think. Rafe was out working when it happened. Lucky he wasn’t there because he could have made it a lot worse if he’d tried to fight back.’

  I nodded. ‘Do they think I’m responsible for it?’

  Boges looked awkwardly at Winter again, which was not a good sign.

  ‘We don’t know,’ said Winter. ‘The important thing for us is knowing who was responsible for it. Was it Sligo, or Oriana, or was it pure coincidence?’

  Boges nodded in agreement with what Winter was saying. It was weird to see them getting along.

  ‘I lost everything from the boathouse,’ I said. ‘We’re going to have to—’

  ‘Dude, chill,’ Boges interrupted me, smiling. ‘Everything’s safe. It’s all here!’

  He leaned down and patted a backpack sitting on the floor near his chair.

  ‘What are you saying?’ I asked.

  ‘I doubled back,’ said Boges. ‘After I left the boathouse I saw Sligo’s car up on the street and knew trouble was coming. I watched you jump into the water and swim away, without your backpack. They got out of the car and headed off in your direction, so I snuck back to boathouse, grabbed everything I could from your bag and shoved it into mine. I was just swinging it over my shoulder when I heard them coming back. I didn’t hang around, I can tell you. I was out of there faster than the speed of light!’

  Winter smirked at him.

  ‘You’re a superhero now, are you?’ she mocked.

  ‘Hey! Enough of the insults, girl,’ said Boges. ‘And just when I’m starting to think that maybe you’re not totally evil …’


  She laughed and gave him a shove. I should have been happy they were getting along, but something annoyed me about the way they were suddenly so friendly. I tried to ignore it.

  ‘Dude, you are a superhero,’ I said, ‘an absolute legend.’ Such a massive weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I couldn’t believe my mate Boges had been brave enough to go back and get my stuff for me.

  ‘So tell us what happened to you,’ Winter said taking off her beanie and cardigan. ‘What’s with the whole Ben Galloway thing?’

  I gave them the quick rundown on how I’d ended up in Leechwood, how they were convinced I was Galloway—suffering from denial, and refusing to hand over documents to Sligo. I wrapped it all up with the story about Vernon and how I’d finally been able to send the SOS email.

  ‘Seriously,’ said Boges, ‘I thought you were a goner. I hadn’t heard from you in so long and had no idea what had happened to you. I thought I saw Oriana’s car near the boathouse, too. didn’t know what was going on, or who had taken you. For all I knew you could have fallen off a cliff!’

  ‘Oriana? But it was Sligo who kidnapped me and chucked me into this place—despite some story about sending his thugs on a wild goose chase!’ I glared at Winter.

  ‘Hey, steady on,’ said Boges. ‘Listen before you shoot your mouth off too much. Winter’s got a plan. To get you out of here.’

  ‘Winter’s got a plan?’ I repeated.

  ‘You could speak to me,’ said Winter. ‘I’m right here, you know.’

  ‘As if I could forget,’ I said, turning to her. ‘I’m right here, too. Thanks to Sligo.’

  Her dark, almond eyes looked straight into mine.

  ‘Cal,’ she said, ‘I’m really sorry you’re stuck in here. I don’t know how Sligo got his hands on you. You have to believe I got into the car with Bruno and immediately led him away from you. I directed him back to the old squat. But there were new squatters there. I said they must have chased you away.’