Pressure: a dark and disturbing psychological thriller

by Betsy Reavley

  I know that hunting is controversial but there is something very beautiful about it. It is a primal desire to hunt. It’s a desire that was inbuilt in those dogs, the same way a horse longs to gallop. Men have the desire to hunt, too. It is not something that is necessary anymore, society has put an end to that, but it remains, bubbling under the skin of people, looking for an escape.

  On that day, watching the hunt, I realised I had it in me.

  32

  The Pica Explorer

  Day five. Hour 21:30.

  ‘Everyone stay calm.’ Susie’s voice is quivering. ‘We need to get the torch.’

  ‘It is in the drawer near the kettle,’ Sam says.

  ‘Okay. Please all stay where you are. I am going to try and feel my way.’

  I hate the darkness. I always have but the darkness in the submarine is like no darkness I have ever experienced before. It is so thick it is almost alive. I start to think I can see shapes moving in it, the spirits of the dead people on board living in the blackness, walking among us. And then I think of the killer and wonder if they are in the room with me now.

  ‘Hurry up, will you?’ Frank’s impatience is hugely irritating to me.

  ‘She’s doing her best,’ I bite back as Susie clatters into something. ‘Are you okay?’ I reach out in the darkness hoping to make contact with someone but there is no one there.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  Someone is breathing very heavily close to me. Is it Frank? Is it Sam? The sound puts me on edge and I don’t like it at all.

  ‘Sam?’ I speak into the darkness, not knowing in which direction to aim my words.

  ‘I’m here.’ His voice sounds further away than the breathing and I deduce that it must be Frank. Then the sound of a drawer opening grabs my attention.

  ‘Got it,’ Susie says, her words full of relief.

  The next thing I see is a beam of bright light. It hits me directly in my eyes and I squint. Then the beam moves slowly around the room, looking for the others. It finds Sam before finally resting on Frank’s face. The shadows cast on his features make his face look distorted and evil; like something from a horror film. His insane smile is repulsive.

  ‘If the lights have gone, then the oxygen will probably be next,’ Sam says from the darkness.

  No one says anything. What is there to say?

  Then from the distance we hear a banging sound. It travels through the darkness leaving behind visible vibrations in its wake.

  ‘What’s that?’ Susie shines the torch light around the room, which darts about aimlessly as if it is a laser cutting through the black that surrounds us.

  ‘It is coming from inside the sub,’ Sam whispers loudly.

  Frank’s silence is unnerving.

  The noise stops for a moment and then starts again. It is frantic and seems to be getting louder by the second.

  ‘Luke!’ Susie suddenly says. ‘It’s Luke.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Let’s go.’ The light searches for the door and I hear Susie crossing the room.

  ‘Why? Are you going to let him out?’ Sam sounds hoarse from fear.

  ‘I don’t know but we can’t just leave him locked in there in the dark.’

  ‘I think we can, actually.’ Frank’s low voice rises through the pitch-black darkness.

  ‘Are you coming?’ Susie turns and the light hits me again in the face.

  ‘Yes. I’m not staying here.’ I follow the lit pathway through the room when she lowers the torch.

  ‘Fine,’ Sam huffs. ‘Come on then.’

  ‘I’ll be fine right here.’ Frank remains standing in the darkness alone.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Susie leads Sam and me in the direction that the clattering sound is coming from.

  ‘Do you think he is safe left on his own?’ I ask as we walk slowly, not able to see our feet.

  ‘I don’t care,’ Sam snorts.

  ‘We won’t be long,’ says Susie.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ I admit. ‘I don’t want to die in the dark.’

  I reach out and put my hands on Sam’s back, which is just in front of me, and hold on to his clothing. He doesn’t say anything but keeps on walking.

  ‘This is crazy.’ Suddenly Sam stops.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I lean in and ask. ‘Susie, wait.’ She spins around and the torch light whirls in the darkness.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m sick of this.’ Sam reaches out his hand, searching until he finds mine. ‘We can go and see if Luke is okay but then I’m going to go try fix the lights. There must be a way to get the power back on, if only for a while. I’m not ready to give up just yet.’ Just then the noise from the room Luke is locked in comes to a halt.

  ‘Do you know anything about electrics?’ I ask with scepticism.

  ‘Hopefully enough to come up with a temporary solution.’ He squeezes my hand.

  ‘Okay. But first let’s just check on Luke. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Sam nods his head and I admire his good looks for the first time in a few days. With everything that has happened it was easy to forget that I have been living side by side with a film star.

  We walk faster now, grateful for the small amount of hope that Sam has offered us.

  When we turn the corner Susie calls out to Luke.

  ‘Luke. It’s Susie.’

  ‘Susie. You have to let me out.’

  ‘Sorry, pal,’ Sam replies, ‘but that’s not going to happen. We just came to see if you are okay.’

  ‘I can’t see anything. What’s going on?’

  ‘The lights have finally gone out,’ I call back.

  ‘Well, I can see that!’ Luke shouts. ‘Please, just let me out.’ He starts banging on the door. ‘I’m sorry. I know I frightened you all. I was just scared. But I’m fine now. Please.’

  The three of us on the other side remain quiet.

  ‘Come on, guys.’ His voice starts to break.

  ‘Maybe we should.’ Susie points the torch to the bound door handle.

  ‘Yes, yes, come on, Suz, just open the door.’

  ‘He sounds much calmer.’ Susie turns to us searching for agreement.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I whimper, starting to feel dizzy.

  ‘Not yet,’ Sam says, taking control of the situation before turning to Susie and me. ‘Ladies, let’s go back to the living area. We can set up some candles and get you settled. I’ll take the torch and go and see if there is anything I can do. If I manage to get the lights working then we will let him out.’

  ‘And if you don’t?’

  ‘We will cross that bridge when we come to it. Right’—Sam leans over and takes the torch from Susie who relinquishes it without a fight—‘we have a plan.’

  ‘We’ll come back for you.’ Susie leans in and puts her hand on the door.

  Sam starts to walk away and we follow, leaving Luke locked in the bunkroom screaming.

  It doesn’t take long for us to set up the living quarters with a few candles. The temperature has dropped noticeably and our breath clouds the air. Frank has been sitting in a corner the whole time not moving or saying a word. There is a strange expression on his face and his brow is furrowed.

  Sam makes sure we both have a knife, some water and a blanket before he sets off.

  ‘Keep an eye on him.’ Sam turns in the doorway before disappearing. ‘I won’t be long.’

  I huddle with Susie beneath the blanket, trying to get some warmth.

  ‘Do you think this is it?’ My teeth chatter and I struggle to get the words out.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it,’ she admits.

  On the other side of the room, Frank seems oblivious to our conversation.

  ‘We can’t give up hope yet.’ Susie puts her small head on my shoulder and I feel that she, too, is shaking from the cold.

  The various candles dotted around don’t offer much light but just enough for us to be able to see Frank’s o
utline and the whites of his eyes.

  ‘It’s Frank who should be locked in that room, not Luke,’ Susie whispers under her breath. She’s right of course.

  Rubbing my hands together furiously, I try to produce some warmth. ‘I wish I was at home, with Olly.’

  ‘Olly?’ she inquires.

  ‘Yes, my boyfriend.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned him before.’

  ‘Haven’t I?’

  ‘No. How long have you been together?’ She pulls the blanket up under her chin.

  ‘A little less than a year. He’s great.’

  ‘Where did you meet?’ It’s very good of her to feign interest.

  ‘In a bar. He makes great cocktails.’

  ‘I love a good cocktail,’ she agrees.

  ‘Now I am never going to see him again. We had a fight before I left. I said some horrible things.’ A lump forms in my throat.

  ‘Hey, I’m sure he’ll forgive you. At least you have someone. I don’t really have any family or anyone.’ She cuddles up to me even closer and I can smell her hair. It reminds me of something.

  ‘I’m so cold.’ I push the memory of Olly away. It is too painful.

  ‘I know, me too.’

  ‘And I’m tired. I’m so tired.’ I rub my temples, knowing that something in my memory is stirring, trying to come out but it remains just out of reach.

  ‘Come on.’ Susie lies back and pulls me gently down. ‘Close your eyes for a bit.’

  ‘What about Frank?’ I say looking over at the deranged man who remains sitting alone in the corner.

  ‘I’ll be awake.’ She wipes a strand of hair away from my face. ‘I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to.’ Her words are spoken with sadness.

  ‘Are you sure? Just for a little while. I’m feeling sick and my head is spinning.’

  ‘Ssshh. Rest.’ She puts her hand on my forehead to feel for a temperature, just like mothers do with their small children. ‘You get some rest.’

  Closing my eyes I hope to slip into sleep but colourful images dance behind my eyelids, twisting and turning in on themselves like a kaleidoscope while in the distance I think I can hear Luke calling out.

  Turning onto my side, I hug myself beneath the covers and roll my body up into a foetal position in an attempt to get warm. But still my whole body trembles.

  I lie there for a while, watching in awe as the swirling colours dance around in my mind and manage at last to find a brief moment of peace. Gradually I feel myself sinking into sleep and as I begin to allow the feeling to take hold I see a flash.

  ‘Oh!’ I feel Susie sit up next to me and I open my eyes.

  I can see and for a moment it is surreal. The room is flooded with electric light and the brightness of it hurts my eyes.

  ‘He did it!’ Susie gasps in amazement. ‘He bloody well did it!’ She hugs me.

  In the corner, I notice Frank has put his hands up over his eyes, much like a child playing hide and seek. He keeps them there and I motion to Susie to look up, watching as she slowly picks up the knife, concealing it under the blanket.

  ‘Protection,’ she mouths as if I didn’t realise.

  ‘Luke has stopped shouting.’ My relief is tangible.

  ‘Having the lights back on will make a big difference.’ For the first time since we were plunged into darkness I feel my heartbeat returning to a semi-normal rate.

  Moments later we hear running steps echoing down the corridor and shortly after that Sam appears in the doorway, sweaty and panting.

  ‘Well done.’ Susie rushes over to give him a hug but putting a hand up he stops her.

  ‘The good news is that I managed to fix the lights.’ He takes a long breath. ‘For now.’

  An impending sense of doom returns and I wait for him to continue.

  ‘The bad news’—he hangs his head—‘is that I found Anya.’ Sam looks up and around at each of us in turn. ‘She’s dead.’

  From the corner of my eye I see movement coming from Frank. He slowly lowers his hands from his eyes and speaks in a low voice.

  ‘And then there were five.’

  33

  Susie

  I’ve always been quiet and never one to rock the boat. I hate confrontation and always have ever since I was little.

  Growing up I was a lonely child and I went through life trying to remain unseen. I suppose I was shy but I didn’t mind my own company and it gave my imagination time to expand.

  I loved animals as a young girl and would spend a lot of my time studying them and then doing drawings in my bedroom, which I hid beneath my bed because I was meant to be doing homework instead.

  School wasn’t much fun for me. The other children were mean and used to tease me, but I tried to keep my head down and keep out of their way. Sadly, the teachers never did anything about it, even though they knew what was going on.

  When I was sixteen my mother died. My father hadn’t been around and so I was sent to live with my uncle. He was better off than my mother and had a love of photography. I think he felt sorry for me, being an orphan, and he used to lend me his camera so I could go outside and take pictures of the birds and wildlife. That was when I developed my love of film. Life seemed so much more beautiful through a lens and for my eighteenth birthday he bought me a video camera. It was soon after that I left my uncle’s home and went to London to carve out a career in film-making.

  My uncle had some friends in London who showed me around and helped me to find my feet. The big city was a scary place, in comparison to the quiet countryside I’d grown up in, but I soon got used to it. The biggest hurdle was taking the Tube. I often got lost and ended up on the wrong side of the city.

  Eventually I found a course in film-making. It wasn’t one of the big, respectable film schools but it was an introduction and a step in the right direction.

  Although my mother had not been wealthy she had at least owned the cottage we lived in and I was the sole beneficiary. That money helped me to pay for the course and my accommodation. Without meaning to, my mother had finally done something helpful.

  After completing the course I managed to get little bits of work on small-fry productions and while on set, I realised that what I really wanted to do was become a producer. I’d always been quite organised and efficient so it seemed a good fit.

  My first chance came when I was nearly thirty, in 2002, when I was given the job as production assistant with an advertising firm. I really learnt so much during my two years there and eventually found the courage to pursue working as a producer myself. Fortunately, the people at the company liked me and offered me a shot at stepping out of the shadows.

  During my first ad, which was for a washing detergent, I was so nervous I couldn’t eat a thing. I felt sick most of the time and my nerves were even worse when I had to show up on set.

  The director, a nice guy who I think fancied me, was gentle and patient. For that I’ll always be grateful. Everyone on set was great, as is usually the case. Of course there are exceptions but usually people on a set work out how to just get on. Nothing would ever get made if we spent our time bickering.

  Gradually, I started to get a name for myself and after about eighteen months I was being offered lots of work.

  I had a reputation for being easy to work with and I think that helped. No one wants to work with a tyrant, do they?

  Having grown up with little money I was stunned by the amount I was making in advertising. I was able to buy myself expensive clothes and moved into a bright, airy apartment in Fulham.

  Work became my sole focus and I had no time in my life for men. I’d always had trust issues with men and as an adult those did not subside. But I was content on my own. The flat was decorated just how I liked it and I didn’t have anyone to answer to.

  But things changed after the crash in 2009. Companies were spending less on adverting and the industry took a hit. Despite my reputation, and the various awards I’d received over the years, the work started to dry
up and I ended up taking a job working on a really bad sitcom that was shown late at night when only teenagers and stoners were awake to watch it. The actors weren’t great and the script was even worse, but it was work and it helped to pay my mortgage. Unlike other people in the industry I suppose I was lucky.

  My luck changed yet again when I received a call from Frank Holden’s PA out of the blue.

  I’d heard the stories about Frank, as had many others, so I was curious when I was called to a meeting with the man, as well as cautious. His reputation preceded him and, as a reasonably attractive woman, I knew I needed to be wary.

  Frank Holden was every bit as obnoxious as I’d heard he was but the thing that took me by surprise was his size. He was overweight and much taller than I had imagined. He was a man who commanded a room and I could see immediately why people were intimidated by him.

  When I went into his ultra-modern office he remained seated in an expensive looking executive leather chair and sat with his hands folded and his chin resting on them. He wore a blue shirt that was tight around his belly. His small brown eyes looked me up and down before returning to the papers he had been reading before I was called in.

  One his right sat a small woman dressed in black. She had cropped dark hair, and wore trendy black-rimmed glasses, which I suspected were not required for seeing, and bright red lipstick.

  ‘Come in and have a seat, hon?’ The American lady beamed.

  I sat down on the opposite side of the huge glass desk feeling like I was a contestant on The Apprentice.

  ‘I’m Monica Cherry, Mr Holden’s PA. We’re so glad you could join us today.’

  I’d met many Americans who worked in film and was always surprised by the way they spoke. It was contrived but the familiarity of it was somehow comforting.

  ‘Lovely to meet you.’ I shifted in my seat feeling very small in the huge clinical office.