Sleepwalkers

by Tom Grieves

  The next day they ate cereal from cheap plastic bowls in silence, then prepared to go. Anna had delayed them by insisting on washing up. Even Terry had seemed nervous, moaning about computer access and wanting a couple more minutes before they headed off. Toby said nothing, pacing about the room, pale and fidgety. And Ben just stood by the door, lost in thoughts that Anna was happy for him to keep to himself.

  They drove off once rush hour had passed. Ben and Toby sat in the front, Anna and Terry in the back. Terry had a laptop perched on his knees and he tapped away at it throughout the journey. Anna had no idea what he was up to, but she would have welcomed the chance for some distraction. Instead she stared out at the people, the shops, the cars and buses. Locked inside the car with this ragtag collection of strangers, she felt terribly alone.

  They drove on, and after half an hour they stopped at a set of traffic lights. As they waited patiently for them to turn green, a police car drove up next to them and everyone stiffened.

  ‘Just remain calm and look straight ahead,’ said Ben, staring hard at the lights. Anna tried to do as he said, and no one spoke. The lights remained red. It seemed to go on forever.

  ‘Oh come on …’ gasped Toby.

  Anna couldn’t help but glance across to the police vehicle. The driver was a woman, a WPC, and she was talking to someone via the car radio. Anna watched her. Was she talking about them? Were they checking out the registration plate of the car? Why the hell were they driving around in a stolen car? And then the WPC turned and looked at Anna, looked her straight in the eye. It was as if she knew her. And Anna was about to shout out in panic, when the car jerked forward and took a right-hand turn, leaving the police car behind. It didn’t follow. But still, Anna was shaken by that stare.

  ‘See?’ said Ben from the front. ‘Just a cop car, driving around, not interested in us. We’re fine.’

  But she didn’t feel fine. She felt that they were being played with.

  Ben had explained to them how he’d worked out the rough location of ‘the lab’, as he’d started calling it, from a memory of a statue in a square. Soon they drove past this statue – a crouching lion, painted gold, on a tall marble plinth. It was just as he said. And although it meant nothing in itself, the mood in the car was buoyed enormously.

  Toby had a map on his lap, but was rubbish at reading it and offered less-than-helpful directions. Terry, in frustration, used his computer to offer different instructions. The two boys would bicker and shout at each other as Ben would drive round and round, cursing when they hit a one-way system that slowed their progress even further.

  But every now and then they’d reach a back alley, a quiet road that might be ‘the one’. And then they’d all be silent as they drove along it and they’d all stare out, looking for those silver doors. At the end of the road, when nothing was found, Terry and Toby would resume their bickering. It was hard to tell if this was frustration or relief. As much as Toby said he wanted to know the truth, he had squirmed and argued hard against them trying to find it. It was just too dangerous.

  Round and round they drove. Slowly Anna’s fear faded, but it was replaced by car sickness. She began to believe that they’d never find these doors.

  They found another quiet back street. Ben indicated right, took the turn and drove slowly along. Anna looked out at what must be the backs of office blocks or shops – the uglier, concealed back entrances which were hidden from public view. They passed a stack of large plastic bins and then the car stopped. Anna was confused for a moment, then she saw that Terry’s face was turned away from her, pressed against the glass. She looked over his shoulder and saw a steep drive that dipped away from the street, leading down to a thick metal barrier, spotless and shiny. A metal door, close to the square with the lion statue, off a steep drive. Just as Ben had described it.

  No one moved. The engine purred as they all stared at the metal door. Next to it was a small keypad on the wall. A digital keypad.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ whispered Terry. ‘That’s it, isn’t it?’

  No one else spoke.

  Anna looked at Toby. She could see that he was shaking. She leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulder, but it had no effect.

  ‘Let’s go, just go,’ Toby pleaded.

  But Ben didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the door.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here!’ shouted Toby.

  ‘They’re in there,’ said Ben. ‘It’s all in there.’

  ‘Yeah, great, well done, cool. Now let’s go!’

  Toby was twisted and contorted in the chair, writhing with fear.

  ‘Have you seen the keypad?’ Ben said, turning to Anna. He seemed absolutely calm. She nodded. It was as close as she could get to speaking.

  ‘Don’t go down there!’ Toby screamed.

  ‘But it’s the only way to find out the truth.’

  ‘Fuck the truth!’

  ‘Toby.’ Ben put a hand on the boy’s arm. ‘We have to be sure. This could be the wrong place. Some rich guy’s garage.’

  ‘Or they could be there. Just waiting. You open the door and they’ll get us.’

  Ben seemed to have no answer to this. Anna watched him as he turned to stare back at the metal barrier. The silence was painful. The engine ran, idle. She looked back behind them, but there was no one there, no people, no police car. Terry started typing something new into his computer, but Anna just stared back at Ben, waiting for a decision.

  ‘Come on,’ he finally said, unbuckling his seat belt.

  ‘No way,’ Toby replied.

  ‘Yes. Yes, come on. You have to do this.’

  Anna could see tears forming in Toby’s eyes.

  ‘Why doesn’t he just wait in the car with us?’ she suggested. ‘You know what the code is.’

  ‘Toby,’ Ben said, ignoring her.

  ‘Come on, Ben, look at him,’ she said. ‘He’s absolutely terrified.’

  Ben glanced at her and then back at Toby. Then he nodded. ‘You get in the driver’s seat,’ he said to her. ‘If there’s trouble, you drive. Just drive, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  She watched Ben get out of the car, rub his hands and roll the stiffness out his shoulders. Then he walked down the drive, towards the door and the keypad. Suddenly Toby bolted from the car and ran towards Ben. Anna wanted to shout after him, but she was scared of making too much noise. Instead she got out herself, closed the door he’d left open and got into the driver’s side, pulling the door shut as quietly as she could. The seat was still warm from Ben sitting on it. Terry continued to type away in the back. She turned and watched as Toby caught up with Ben. Behind her, the typing stopped.

  ‘You think this is it, Miss?’

  ‘Don’t call me Miss.’

  ‘I do. I think this is the place. Fucking hell, I’m scared. I don’t care who knows it.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ she replied, a little too quietly.

  *

  Ben turned in surprise as Toby ran down the steep tarmac slope and stopped next to him in front of the big metal door.

  ‘Better out here with you than in the car. She’s a rubbish driver,’ said Toby, pulling a face. Ben put a hand out and patted his arm gently. His nerves were shredded, but he didn’t want the boy to see. He needed to be strong for both of them. He looked up at the building – the wall had a thick, even render, which had been painted white. High above were five sets of window shutters. Closed.

  ‘You think this is it?’ he said.

  Toby nodded. The tears were in his eyes again.

  Ben went over to the keypad. He was about to type in the code Toby had sung when the boy stopped him.

  ‘Why do you think we’ve been dreaming about this place?’

  Ben was confused. ‘What?’

  ‘Why do you think we both suddenly started dreaming the same sort of thing? Just like that. Now?’

  Ben paused. He had no answer, he’d not considered the timing of the dreams important, only what he rem
embered from them.

  ‘Do you think,’ Toby continued, faltering, ‘that like, maybe, they’re still in our heads? Sort of, I don’t know, sort of – they wanted us to remember this place?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So we’d come back here.’

  Ben’s hand instinctively jerked away from the keypad. He shoved it in his pocket to make the reaction seem less extreme. He looked at Toby, so fragile and so frightened in front of him. The boy would say anything to get away from here, he thought. But he couldn’t deny the eerie logic.

  ‘Sort of like we’re programmed,’ Toby said. ‘Even when we’re awake.’

  The idea clawed away at Ben. But he shook his head.

  ‘We’ve been here for five minutes. If they wanted us, they could easily have got us by now. Look at this street – only two ways out. We’re sitting ducks.’

  He looked around. The road was empty. He looked back at Anna and Terry who stared back at him from the relative safety of the car.

  ‘No,’ Ben said more confidently. ‘If they knew we were here, they’d have got us by now.’

  He turned back to the keypad.

  ‘Why bother to get us if they know we’ll just walk in anyway?’ Toby asked, his voice tremulous.

  ‘It’s fine, it’s probably not even the right place,’ Ben replied. But it was. He knew it was.

  He punched the five numbers into the keypad.

  It made the exact tune that Toby had hummed.

  But nothing happened.

  Toby breathed out a shallow sigh of relief.

  Ben tried again, adding an extra key – a green button – at the end.

  Another pause. And then there was a tiny click, a slow groan and the door began to slide down into the floor. Slow and sleek, it sank away, revealing a dark room on the other side.

  Toby nearly bolted, but Ben grabbed his arm. He was transfixed by the cool, slick motion of the door as it gradually disappeared entirely into the ground. Then there was a small mechanical shudder and everything was silent again. Ben took one step closer and peered in. It looked like a large, empty garage. Parking bays were marked out by painted white lines on the floor. Big spaces. Big enough for vans. Nothing else, except a door at the far end and, next to it, the doors to a large lift.

  He looked down at the sunken door and the cavernous opening. He took another step forward. There was something about the threshold, that sunken metal barrier that scared him. He imagined it springing back up once he’d crossed it, trapping him inside. But if he didn’t step forward, he’d never know more.

  *

  Inside the car, Terry was muttering swearwords to himself, over and over. Anna’s hands gripped the steering wheel, wanting to drive away, drive as fast as she could.

  ‘He’s not going in there, is he?’ Terry asked, incredulous, as Ben took a tentative step forwards. ‘We should get out of here, yeah? Now we know it’s for real, we need to get the hell out of here. Yeah? Yeah? HELLO?’

  Anna banged on the window, trying to catch their attention. Come on, she thought, don’t make me shout or sound the horn, just come back now, just come back. Toby looked up at her, his face pale. She gestured for him to come back to the car. He nodded, turned to Ben and said something. Ben replied, but neither moved.

  ‘Why aren’t they coming back?’ she hissed.

  ‘He’s going in, isn’t he? Oh fucking fuck.’

  ‘It’s okay, it’s just, it’s just …’ but the words choked inside her.

  Outside, Ben took another step forward. Terry coughed up a muffled squeal. She tried to find her most adult, practical voice to calm them both down.

  ‘There’s no sign,’ she said.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘There’s no sign to say who owns the building.’

  ‘No shit. You think they’re going to advertise themselves?’

  ‘No, but maybe there’s a sign on the other side, on the front of the building. We could find out who owns it that way.’

  ‘I know who owns it, that’s what I’ve been doing on my computer. It’s a big holding company, the Rylance Group, but who gives a shit. Seriously, he can’t go in there!’

  He banged on the window himself, but neither Ben nor Toby seemed to notice.

  The words hit Anna hard in the gut. She thought maybe she’d heard wrong.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Rylance Group. They’re a big multinational, own all sorts, oil companies, airlines, computer companies, you name it. But they’ll just be a front, I bet. Probably just renting out the space. Won’t have a clue what it’s really being used for.’

  Toby had grabbed Ben’s arm, trying to stop him from going forward. Anna watched them as she took in Terry’s words. It felt like someone was sitting on her chest, crushing her lungs. She could barely breathe.

  Her father worked for the Rylance Group.

  *

  Outside, Ben tried to pull away from Toby. But the boy held tight.

  ‘Don’t go in. You said we’d just check it out today. You said.’

  ‘I know. But we’re here now.’

  ‘You promised!’

  ‘Look, let’s just go to the edge. Have a look. If it’s at all odd, we won’t go inside. I promise.’

  Toby nodded reluctantly and Ben led him to the entrance. They stared in. The floor was clean, a little dusty, but well tended. Ben listened out, expecting the noise of charging feet coming to get them, but the room was eerily silent.

  ‘Do you remember this?’ Ben asked.

  Toby shook his head. ‘Not really. Just the other stuff. Upstairs.’ He sniffed.

  Ben pointed to the lift. ‘They took us up in there.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘We’re not mad.’

  ‘I already knew that.’

  Ben was quiet for a moment. He wasn’t mad. They had done things to him. And he really had done things to others. His wife had lied to him. His children were probably not his. All this wasn’t just craziness in his mind. But the truth was worse.

  And then he felt Toby’s clutch on his arm tighten. He looked at him, followed his gaze and saw what he was staring at. A camera. A small camera attached to the wall, pointing right at them. Its red light blinked repeatedly: on, recording.

  We see you. We are watching you.

  Ben took a step back and they both turned tail and sprinted to the car.

  *

  Anna saw them coming and hit the accelerator as soon as they jumped inside.

  ‘They saw us,’ gasped Toby, who had thrown himself into the back seat. ‘Oh shit, they’ve seen us.’

  Ben had jumped in beside her but said nothing, panting slightly as she took a hard left turn and kept on driving fast. It was a while before he spoke.

  ‘We need to dump the car. We’re not safe until we do.’

  She let him direct her to an industrial estate with long, empty roads, where they parked the car and walked away. It was a good twenty minutes to the nearest bus route, but the walk seemed to calm them down.

  Except for Anna. She walked slightly behind the guys, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to her over the last few months. Her father worked for the Rylance Group. Soon after she’d got into trouble with Toby he’d turned up at her flat uninvited. Memories of her childhood flickered in her mind, but they didn’t answer the questions that bit at her. Her father was a part of this. Which meant that she was too, in ways she hadn’t realised.

  Toby cheered up with each step they took away from the car. Ten minutes later, he was cock-a-hoop.

  ‘We did it!’ he cheered. ‘And may I just say that you two were total pussies for hiding in the car!’

  Terry thumped him and they started wrestling on the pavement, the relief pumping out of them.

  Ben moved to pull them apart, clearly irritated by the spectacle, but Anna stopped him, her hand on his arm. He looked at her, surprised.

  ‘I need your help,’ she said to him quietly, so that the boys wouldn’t hear. ‘Let’s get
them back to the squat. And then I need you to take me somewhere.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Anna couldn’t quite remember why she found it so hard to talk to her father. Their relationship had slowly deteriorated over time, starting when something had happened around the time she left university, and various rows and unintended slights had spiked their opportunities for a reunion. But they had been inseparable once.

  She remembered happier days. She remembered playing on a beach when she was no more than ten or eleven, digging in the sand, laughing as the sea would sweep in and follow the trenches she’d dug for it. Henry sat in the shade, glancing up from a battered paperback, waving at her and worrying about suntan cream. When she stamped and pouted because his attentions were elsewhere, he’d laugh and crouch down next to her and together they’d build castles and cathedrals. She was never a princess, but always the master builder, an architect, and he was her trusty servant, berating their invisible workmen for their slovenly ways.

  One time she looked up, having dug a hole so deep she was already down to her waist, to see her father had bought her a kite from one of the local stands. She was thrilled, and they flew it together all day. The kite was deep red with multi-coloured ribbons hanging down. Anna was so happy she slept with the kite on her pillow. But the next day, as Henry diligently smoothed the factor 40 cream onto her arms and legs, her hands became greasy and the kite slipped from her grasp. She wailed as the kite fluttered up and away, flying not out to sea but inland, above and over the steep cliffs that towered up behind the beach.

  Henry listened to his daughter’s pleas with a solemn face. He argued that the kite was most likely long gone, even if they did climb the steep, uneven path that zig-zagged up the rocky terrain. But little Anna was insistent and he relented. After packing up their belongings with a care that drove her to distraction, the two of them set off, holding hands, in search of the lost kite. Anna only had flimsy sandals on, and although she skipped along at first, soon her feet became sweaty with the heat and started to slip and slide. The rocks scraped and bruised her toes, but she tried not to show it. Henry walked ahead of her at an even, demanding pace, never slowing, only occasionally glancing back. By the time they’d reached the top of the cliffs, the sun was right above them and Anna was swaying in the heat, her hands and legs covered in the rocks’ white chalky dust. Henry was waiting for her, having reached the top some time before. He gazed at her coolly and she tried to smile, knowing that this was all her idea. She could sense, despite her young age, that her father wanted her to grumble. This was a test. Ahead was a field, wire-fenced, covered with thistles and stinging nettles. Henry gathered Anna to him and lifted her up. For a moment she thought it was a cuddle of congratulation until her father pointed to a dash of colour, trapped amid the high grass at the far end. He’d lifted her up so she could see it. When he put her back down, Anna could only see the violent green of the nettles. And then her father took her hand with a firm grip that let her know she was going to come with him.