“Well, not so much a present, but I pulled some strings for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know someone, who knows someone, who is someone’s brother, who runs a track team. Don’t groan. I spoke to them about you, and they’re willing to give you a chance. They said if you turn up on Monday evening they’ll time you and let you in if you do well. It’s a good club. Usually they only take people who’ve competed already.”
“Come on, Josie. I told you I can’t do that.”
“You told me you’ve wanted to be a sprinter since you were a kid.”
“And now I regret telling you that.”
“You told me you broke records for every school you went to.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You just don’t even want to try.”
“It’s not that.”
“Too afraid of failure.”
“I’m not afraid of it! I know I would fail! It’s a fact!”
“How?!”
“I explained this already. Having one arm means it takes a lot more energy for me to retain balance and straight, forward momentum. It doesn’t sound like much, but I can forget about competing at a high level.”
“So what about those records?”
“Beating a few snot nosed kids is different to beating the best in the world.”
“But you love doing it. Why can’t you just do it for that reason?”
“I can run however much I want on my own, nobody’s stopping me. If I start competing I’ll have to be happy never being the best, and I’m not gonna settle for that. No runner would.”
“So be the best.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“You said it’s harder for you, you didn’t say it’s impossible.”
“It pretty much is impossible.”
“But not really impossible. There’s a small chance you can do it, and I think you can.”
“No offence, but what do you know about running?”
“I’ve seen you catch the bus.”
“Haha! Well catching the bus is enough for me.”
“Just go let them time you at least. See what they say, let them decide if you’re good enough rather than your own negative brain. Think of it as a present to me, rather than a present to you then.”
“I have to take care of Vicky on Monday.”
“I’ll pick her up and take care of her. And I will any time you need to train.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Ok, so it’s sorted. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”
Vicky opened her eyes a little.
“Is it a school day?”
“No, no. I just came in to see if you were alright. Go back to sleep. Night night.”
“Night.”
I got off the bed and went to my room to dress in my running clothes. It was almost midnight. I closed the door quietly behind me and ran down the stairwell two steps at a time; leaping the last few. I emerged from the main doors into a dark winter night. Not even the hundreds of urban street and house lights could fight the overbearing darkness that covered everything.
The blue saloon was there. I ran past it, careful not to pay too much attention but noticing the Buzzcut in my periphery. As I emerged into the roadside and turned the corner I heard his engine start. I sprinted for about fifty metres and turned to cross the road and sneak a look behind me. Sure enough, the blue saloon was creeping up behind me at a distance, with only his low beam lights on. I jogged forward a little further and looked back again just as he was turning the corner. I could have turned down a few alleyways and lost him—he was keeping quite a distance—instead, I found my way to the long high street, which was fairly empty this late, and began to sprint.
The weight in my chest shattered, the knots in my mind blew away. I forgot about the blue saloon, my only thought was to go faster. I leaned forward, pumped my legs, and gulped air. My feet touched the ground lightly. When I felt like I was pushing myself as hard as I could go, about to collapse, I ran quicker. Just when my footing was getting a little loose and my balance a little off, I heard a revving behind me that spurred me on to regain composure and push faster.
Eventually I drew close to the end of the high street where it junctioned with another. It was a busy area. Even this late the cluster of bars and clubs ensured it was rarely quiet. A thick crowd of smokes and drinkers stood ahead of me, outside a pub. I turned off into a sidestreet, then slowed down to a walk, my chest beating rapidly. I stopped up against a wall in a badly lit area and looked back towards the high street. The blue saloon rushed past towards the junction; high beams on. I smiled and jogged in the darkness of the other direction.
Chapter 13
It began to lightly rain again as I reached the park. It was a large expanse, and the lack of lighting made it a pitch black void into which I could make nothing out. It was locked off, so I ran around the perimeter for a while, under the dim, orange glow of the street lights. The soft, drizzling rain caught some of the light as it fell, creating the impression I was moving through some shifting haze. The gentle, constant shush of the rain hitting the pavement felt just as ominous as the silence that had preceded it. As I ran, I kept looking towards the park. Something about the utter darkness felt like a memory that I couldn’t quite recall.
I was about to turn away from the park’s perimeter and begin heading home when there was a noise. I couldn’t tell whether it was a shout, or something else, buried in the sound of the rain, but it seemed to come from within the penetrating gloom of the park. I stopped and pressed up against the fence, listening intently for it to occur again.
I didn’t know the park well, but I had passed through it a couple of times, so I figured that I could pass through it and not diverge too much from the path home. I leapt over the fence and made my way slowly into the thick shadow. A few yards into the park everything seemed different. Even the sound of rain became subdued and menacing, muffled as it was by the muddy grass. I walked on, unable even to fully define my outstretched hand. It was only when I turned back that I realised I was not even thirty metres from the light of the pavement. I stepped cautiously, the wet ground undulating under my feet. The ground began to turn downwards, and it took constant awareness not to slip in the steepness.
A light flickered above me. I froze and looked up; nothing. I stepped to the side slowly and my hand hit something. It felt like a tree trunk. I leant up against it, as still as I could. Careful even not to breath too heavily, I waited for the light again. When it seemed like I had waited long enough I stepped out from behind the tree trunk, and crouching ever so slightly, shifted forward. The light appeared again, and although my instinct was to run, I stayed long enough to realise it was just the moon; flickering as I passed beneath the branches of the tree. I laughed softly to myself, straightened up, and headed forward again with more conviction.
Between the moon light—half emerging from behind silver clouds—and my eyes adjusting, I began to see a little better. Not far ahead still, but enough to see the ground beneath my feet. I headed forward, unsure of why I had decided to enter the park in the first place. There seemed to be no signs of anybody else there, and certainly no noise. I figured that I had simply misheard a random raindrop and my imagination had run away with me. The fence behind me was now just a distant tinge of yellow cutting against the silhouette of the trees. Ahead of me I could still see nothing, and I guessed that the far side of the park was obscured by the cluster of trees and the gondola building that stood across the centre of this section. I checked the time by the internal light of my watch and turned back towards the fence.
Before I took the second step it struck me; the nagging memory in my periphery. Karim had mentioned Josie sneaking into a park at night with a camera—this park. I turned around suddenly, as if the memory might provoke something to appear, but the same blank void remained. Nonetheless, I decided I wanted to make a clean sweep, and pass through the park. I di
dn’t want to stay much longer, and I expected the chances of finding anything were slim, so I decided to run through. I could see just enough ahead of me, and the lack of orientation would be good balance exercise. I placed a hand out and began a gentle jog forward, ready to stop at any time if I hit a tree.
I managed to narrowly avoid tumbling over a bin and some bushes, but just as I was getting used to the rolling curves of the turf I stepped on something hard and smooth. It felt like a glass bottle, and my foot slipped completely over it, sending me into a forward dive. I crashed to the floor in a heap, splashing into a puddle, but still winded from the impact. Despite the disorientation, I noticed an abnormal rustling a few seconds after I hit the ground. I forgot my pain instantly and raised my head to discern it. The rustling shifted hurriedly from in front of me to the side. Another rustling seemed to come from behind me. I felt like I was being surrounded. The movements sounded quick and smooth, like an animal, but I decided to make a dash just in case.
I leapt to my feet and sprinted haphazardly for about half a minute. After making a good distance I stopped and doubled over; I was really out of breath, from both the fall and the sprint. I put my hand on my knee and felt that I was covered in mud. The rain seemed to have grown heavier, deep droplets falling aggressively; the gentle shush turning into a rapid muffled thumping. A wind was picking up, bellowing deeply between the trees; creaking branches.
The moon disappeared behind a black cloud again. I rested for a few minutes, but still felt tired, and I was starting to get pretty cold. I looked behind me for the light of the road, but it wasn’t there. I had no idea which way I had come from, nor where in the park I was. In a second, my sense of place and direction had disappeared. I checked the time again and saw that it was around one am. The darkness wouldn’t lift for a few hours yet— if that. The only option I had was to keep on walking until I saw the light of a road. I continued on at a brisk pace. I had been ignoring the pain in my knee long enough not to notice it was beginning to get worse, and decided to walk instead of run for fear of falling again.
After walking for what seemed like a long time I heard the noise again: A drawn out moan, like someone in pain, or a drunk who had gone beyond words. It wasn’t close, but in the darkness I had a pretty good idea of where it had come from. Some place a little ahead of me. I figured that it might have come from the road. I headed towards it keeping my eyes fixed in front of me. A few steps later I heard it again, longer this time. It definitely sounded like some kind of drunk; a prolonged, hopeless, primal moan; the sound of someone trying to articulate something they couldn’t. As I drew closer I slowed down, there was some other sound too; a buzzing or humming of some kind. It was a peculiar sound, like a kind of motor, but gentler, more organic. It grew louder as I approached, and I once again heard that moan—both of the sounds were coming from the same spot.
I stepped cautiously, feeling like I was extremely close to the sound, yet with every step it grew louder and louder. I wasn’t scared, but the deep, strange tone sent shivers through my cold body. It was loud enough now that I could tell it wasn’t one thing, but a multitude of things, humming in unison. It was rising ever so slightly in pitch. I stepped forward, feeling so close now that I was sure I would trip on it at any second. The drunken cry sounded one more time, longer and more violently than before. Then everything went silent.
A second after the silence, twenty flashlight beams were turned on, only a dozen or so metres ahead of me. The effect of the sudden and extreme points of light bursting and waving in the darkness set my vision crazy. It took a few seconds of blinking and rubbing my eyes before I regained focus. I made out silhouettes; a group of figures standing in a circle, each with a torch. They turned their flashlights away from the circle and disbanded, all heading away from each other. I realised they hadn’t seen me, and was about to turn and run when a beam scanned over me, then whipped back to shine directly into my eyes.
“Hey! Someone’s here! Over here!”
The light in my eyes blinded me, but I didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust, I spun on my heels and tore away as fast as I could. I ran blind until I could shake open my eyes, and when I did I saw multiple spots of light dance around me; casting elongated shadows of me running in every direction. Despite the pain that it caused me, I was grateful to see where I was going, and I pumped my legs into the soft turf as hard and as fast as I could. Shouts rang out behind me, and I could tell they were close by the brightness of the beams. I curved around every tree, slid down every incline, and hurdled over every bush that came in my path, hoping to lose them.
Cones of light sprung from the sides, all scanning frantically against the thick rain to catch me, and I leapt from side to side in order to lose them, following the darkness. Eventually I shook them and turned back around to see flickers from behind a cluster of trees. Most seemed far away but one beam was closing in on my direction. I reached for a tree trunk and drew myself up close to it on the opposite side, gasping for breath.
I leaned against the rough bark in total darkness, my wet clothes pressing against my back, and I could smell the damp mud that covered me. The sound of raindrops on a few dry leaves masked most of the shouts that came from within the depths of the park. After a minute, the ground around me lit up vibrantly, the thick shadow of the tree swinging from right to left. I shifted to the dark spot, waiting for the light again. It came by swiftly, left to right this time, and I shifted again to stay in the darkness. I leant slightly and looked around the tree. The point of light was nearby; I could make out a faint silhouette of the person carrying it. They were jogging lightly, heading down a path that ran past the tree I was hiding behind. I pulled back and pressed myself up against the tree again, waiting for the light to scan by again. It did, and I once again shifted with it in order to cover myself in the thick trunk’s shadow.
The next sweep of light happened much quicker. The torch-holder was right next to the tree I hid behind. I slunk around in the shadow, spun away from the tree and came up behind the silhouette. They turned just as I threw my fist; hitting them in the side of the head and sending the flashlight flying away in a spasm of spinning light. From the cry of pain it seemed to be a young woman. I leapt on her as she lay on the ground, felt for her mouth and pressed my hand around it so she couldn’t shout again.
When I was sure that there was no one else nearby, I grabbed the flashlight and began running down the path. A few yards and I got an idea of where I was in the park, and continued down the path hoping I was correct in assuming it would take me to the exit.
Just as I relaxed and slowed my pace down to a jog, something smashed into my side and clattered me to the ground. I rolled over and tried to find my feet but this time it was the girl who was holding me down. She put her knee on my arm and sat on my chest. Before I could swing her off balance she began throwing punches. She connected a couple of times with my face, and knocked all of my focus out of me. She scrambled around, looking for another arm to pin down before feeling my stump. She pulled the flashlight out of my hand and shone it directly into my eyes.
“Are you police?”
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes tightly. The light burned my senses.
“Are you police?”
I squirmed and shook, trying to force her off me, but she had me pinned down firmly. Every time I nudged her off a little she shifted easily, not allowing to me to gain any leverage. I squinted through my eyelids, trying to make out a face beyond the bright glow.
“If I say no will you get off me?”
“What are you doing in the park?”
“Enjoying the lovely weather.”
She brought the flashlight down hard on my forehead. I blacked out for a few seconds, and when I came to I felt like I was going to be sick.
I heard shouts from far away, and the girl called out.
“Hey! I’ve got him! This way!”
She shone the flashlight somewhere away from my face, and I turned to lo
ok at her. She had surprisingly delicate features, and looked barely out of her teens. She brought the flashlight back to face me and I turned my head again.
“You’re not going anywhere. You shouldn’t be so nosy.”
I was turning my head so much that my nose touched the ground. It was a gravel path, and the stones pressed against my cheeks.
“Here! On the path!”
There were shouts back and forth. The rest of the group was getting closer. I twisted my face as much as I could against the ground, and with my tongue began pulling stones into my mouth.
“Stop moving!”
She brought the flashlight down onto my head again, but I was too determined to acknowledge the pain. Eventually I had a mouth full of stones. I brought the biggest to my lips.
“I’m right here!”
She shone the torch away again, and I turned to face her. With as much force as I could I spat the stone out. It struck her chin, and I heard the gentle thud of its impact. She pulled her hand to her face, startled, and I quickly spat the remaining stones at her. They flew like shotgun spray over her face, distracting her more than doing any damage, but causing her to shift back enough for me to move a little. I thrust my jaws against the thigh she was pinning my arm down with, and bit as big a chunk of it as I could. She screamed, and I bit harder, as if trying to rip her flesh away.
I forced until I could taste blood, and she scrambled backwards to pull her thigh away, screaming. Only when she got off my chest did I let go, and within seconds I was on my feet. I put my foot on her chest to stop her from rising.
“Help! Help!”
Further down the path I could see the bouncing beams of the others approaching, they were seconds away. I pulled the girl’s flashlight from her hands and lashed it down upon her forehead. She groaned and stopped moving. I turned and ran. My skin felt so bruised and sensitive that every raindrop against my face caused pinpricks of pain. I struggled to focus on the light in front of me, and dizzily tried to run in a straight line.
Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller Page 13