Sombre

  She called out to Sombre, “Please bring The Funneling!”

  Hind up first, front up second, with a ‘phshhhhh’ from her knee-work, Wilder was upright and galloping away from the scene. Halliday coughed and spat in a most unflattering fashion, as she looked over her shoulder. An explosive, catastrophic boom enveloped Battallion as the building finally toppled.

  A battle-weary Halliday, a lifeless Em and a very ill Wilder vanished into The Funneling.

  CHAPTER 23

  Scrutiny

  “So next year I’ve got the stupid prom. Wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it,” Parker said swallowing a mouthful of egg and salad roll.

  Both girls were sitting under their designated tree – the new Centurion lunchtime spot. The temperature was good and hot-Californian, hovering around 90’.

  “Why? You’ll have your pick of dates, won’t you?” Hope said trying her best not to study her friends face - she had more of the mysterious Sombre acne.

  “Because it’s an absolute twit-fest. Frocked up girls parading around like peacocks. Dumb assed jocks doing their best to get down your pants, just so they can say they did it on ‘prom night’.” She rolled her eyes, then gave Hope a look. “Oh, and subtle by the way …”

  “What?”

  “Stop looking at my zits, bitch! Your face is no better,” she grinned at Hope. “My skin would wanna start clearing up soon. It better not scar-up, or the only date I’ll get will be with Lenny the Leper from band! He’s got some godawful bowel issue and farts himself stupid!”

  Hope burst out laughing.

  Parker laughed with her. “I’ve actually seen him lift his butt cheek to give his ass-wind proper clearance!”

  Doubled over, Hope put her lunch bowl down on the grass and fought for breath. She proceeded to cough. Reaching for her mineral water, she took a long swig.

  She rubbed tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, “Oh god, don’t do that!”

  The older girl folded up the balance of her roll in the paper bag and changed the tone, “Jerry’s back tomorrow. I reckon we’ll need to watch him.”

  Hope nodded. “I wonder what sort of shape he’ll be in?”

  “Physically he’ll be fine. They wouldn’t let him go if he wasn’t. I’m curious to see what this Ether person has done to his head though. He’s the spookiest asshole I’ve ever seen.”

  “Agreed,” Hope said. The two had already discussed Ether. The relatively small amount of information Halliday had managed to find out from a reticent Lucretia left a gulf of unanswered questions.

  “Where was it Ether was from again?” Parker said stretching her legs out stiffly on the grass. With a free hand she rubbed her neck, “Man-o-man, I’m sore …”

  Hope watched her friend grimace with her aches and pains. “Well, you know Em’s neck was broken, don’t you? And Halliday had to break Em’s legs to get her out of the plane as well. She jumped up and down on them!”

  “Savage thing, isn’t she?”

  “She can be. Gets the job done, though,” she smiled wanly at Parker. She wasn’t about to apologize for Halliday’s antics. The aches and pains – and the pimples - an unjust part of it all that had to be suffered through. “And getting back to your original question, Ether is from The Isolate. It’s cold there.” Hope said repeating Lucretia’s words from the night before.

  “So now there’s another place we have to know about? Fuck! It’s not like Sombre isn’t more than enough!”

  “Like you said, our worlds are crashing.”

  “Yes, I did say that,” Parker said.

  Hope sighed, “I’ve got the sleep clinic tonight. Not looking forward to that.”

  “What if you do a Sombre flip out and trash the room or something!” Parker chuckled. “I’d pay good coin to see that!”

  “Yeah, real funny. What if I can’t get to sleep?”

  “You could try and stay awake.”

  Hope yawned. “Actually, I doubt it, I’ll sleep. I’m already tired. As you know, Halliday had a big one last night.”

  The school bell rang. Both girls got to their feet and dawdled back to class.

  “You couldn’t save Em’s stupid ass though, could you? She’s on two strokes now,” Parker huffed. She looked down at the ground and shook her head. “It’s bizarre, and more than a little fucked up, but there’s a disturbing part of me who likes being her, you know.”

  “I know, I’m the same. I’m worried about Halliday’s strokes as well. She’s a ticking time bomb.”

  “Ha! Don’t even put her in the same stall with Colonel Em Contusion, my friend! The colonel is in an entire league of her own!”

  Parker gave Hope a shove in the shoulder. “Halliday needs to look after her better is all!”

  S

  “Have you packed some pajamas, Hope?” Evelyn Kelley looked sideways at her daughter. She pulled into the sleep clinic’s parking bay. Daylight was on the decline. They were running a little late. Her mother had all but forgotten about the sleep therapy booking. Such was her busy social schedule – to Hope, the therapy now felt like an intrusion.

  “No. Should I have?” Hope pulled her seat belt free.

  “Well I would have thought pajamas would help you relax a little. I forgot to remind you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Jesus, I wouldn’t be …” Evelyn muttered as she cracked her door open.

  It wasn’t quite true, she knew it, but Hope couldn’t help feeling like an unwanted bag of clothes her mother was dropping off at good will. Evelyn Kelley had an annoying habit of having well-meaning and helpful ideas, setting them up, then not particularly caring how things panned out. If this worked – good. If it didn’t work, she would be quick to wash her hands of it. She didn’t dwell on things, she moved on.

  They both walked the parking lot in silence until Hope pushed on the tinted door to the Marin Sleep Centre. She read Doctor Marin’s bronzed lettered credentials. She spoke with a sigh, “Go through, mother. You’re paying.”

  “Cheeky.” Evelyn raised her eyes as she pushed through.

  The air-conditioning in the reception was frigid. As they approached the front counter, Hope saw Dr Marin meandering around behind the receptionist, obviously awaiting their arrival.

  “Ah, Hope and Evelyn Kelley! How are we this evening? Damn hot outside! Are we ready?” He stepped out from the counter, pursed his lips and tapped his chin in mock contemplation. “No pajamas, no blanket, no pillow? Nothing from home at all?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “I did remind her,” her mother lied. She gave Hope an encouraging rub on the upper-arm.

  “Yeah, as we were pulling in,” Hope said.

  “Where do I sign.” Her mother said heading to the counter. Keen to purchase her first born a ticket to sleep away from home with wires and monitors.

  “I sense a bit of anxiety here,” Dr. Marin chaffed, eyes darting between the two Kelley women. He rubbed his hands together. “Totally understandable. Although there’s absolutely nothing to fear. Cognitive therapy is quite gentle. Once you get used to the wires. We find most patients adjust very quickly.”

  “Okay, see you then … in the morning,” Hope waved to her mother.

  Evelyn looked up and smiled, she held eye contact with Hope for a few seconds.

  “Yes Hope, 6 a.m. sharp. You’ll be better for this!”

  Hope allowed herself to be guided through into what she ghoulishly assumed would be a Dr. Frankenstein-styled laboratory. She assumed wrong. The rooms turned out to be quite civil.

  Dr. Marin spoke softly,

  “We have four rooms, Hope. The other three are already occupied. Here we have what we affectionately call the Nightingale room. Do excuse the furnishings, the walls, the fluffy toys ... this is normally used for infants. Our cancellation has a bout of chicken pox,” he smiled then pursed his lips as he gestured her into the already open door.

  She really wished he’d stop using his kissy-lips – they
were so off putting. She stepped in and looked around at the walls; dark, night-time blue, emblazoned with ‘cow jumped over the moon, the dish ran away with spoon’ wallpaper. Two technicians were preparing the bed, a full hospital bed, with side rails and white sheets. They both looked like students or interns to Hope; the woman was youngish with glasses, long blond hair in a plait; the man was tall around the same age; dark, he wore his thin moustache well, had a nicely shaped jaw. A wide screen T.V. hung above playing a game show at a low volume. Hope eyed the various machines beeping intermittently, L.E.D. lights flashing. There was a trolley with a jug of iced water. This was just like a hospital stay. A small wave of nausea came over her. What if she did have a Sombre flip out? Her sleeping world was about to be delved into by scientists! She hadn’t thought hard enough about this at all.

  “So, Hope Kelley, meet Jessica and Taj. They’ll be in charge from here.”

  She was greeted warmly by both.

  “How are we feeling now?” Dr. Marin cupped his hands together oddly, as if he didn’t want to touch anything and possibly infect the area.

  He was a weird one, thought Hope, “okay I guess.”

  The two younger assistants, seemed to be either used to Dr. Marin, or too nice to register his weirdness as anything other than the norm.

  The doctor looked at his wristwatch. “Okay, Hope. So, I’ll leave you in Jessica and Taj’s quite capable hands. I am wanted at home. By the morning, hopefully we’ll have plenty of data that we can analyze. This therapy is quite enlightening.” He smiled and nodded, “Good night.”

  Hope sat on the bed and pulled her trainers off. Picking up a clipboard, the doctor walked to the door and ran through a few things with Jessica, then left.

  “You good, Hope?” Taj smiled at her as she lay down on the bed. “I can boost you up a bit if you like. What do you want to watch? We’ve got everything.”

  “Whatever, I’m not that fussed.”

  He looked up at the monitor sour-faced. “This game show is pretty crappy, though. We can do better.” He began flicking through the channels.

  “Hi, Hope,” Jessica said at her bedside giving her a tight but friendly smile. “You ready? Time to hook you up to the gadgets. Andy, can you bring me the tapes please.”

  The two worked quickly; Hope found herself covered in wires at her throat and temples, nose and forehead; everywhere up her arms. Jessica did a lot of the talking and Taj nodded and said ‘it’s all good’ a lot.

  “Hope, this is Diagnostic Sleep Therapy. Dr. Marin has told us you can’t remember your dreams, correct?”

  Hope nodded and lied, “I just wake up super tired.”

  “Oh, well. I guess we’ll just have to see. With a bit of luck, you’ll have some crazy dreams tonight and we’ll get heaps of data!”

  “Hmm … not too crazy, I might blow up your machines,” Hope joked uneasily.

  She realized how serious all of this was getting. In the centre of her chest, the box all the wires were plugged into suddenly felt heavier than it actually was – like a symbolical reminder of Halliday’s Beating Clock. She had to catch her breath. Making a grunting noise she tried to stifle but couldn’t, she pulled the box down closer to her stomach. She fidgeted nervously, and Jessica put a soothing hand on her wrist.

  “Just relax, Hope. We do these all the time. You have nothing to fear. Take in some water, hydration is very underrated, everyone forgets to drink enough, before and after sleep.”

  Hope sat up and Taj poured some water into a tall glass, he reassured her once again. “It’s all good, Hope. Take a drink, take a breath. It’s all good.”

  Taj was nice, but actually giving her the shits. It was like he was in some sort of bedside manner training.

  With a final check of every taped wire with her index finger, Jessica seemed happy with her work. “Okay, Hope, I think we’re done. We’ll leave you to relax and watch T.V,” she looked up at the monitor, “Beetlejuice!? Really, Taj! Couldn’t you have found something a little more relaxing? The whole film’s like a nightmare.”

  “It’s a good film – it’s funny,” Taj said and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Don’t worry,” Hope said. “I’m a fan. I’ve seen it heaps of times.”

  Taj dropped another, ‘it’s all good.’

  Jessica rolled her eyes and pushed him in the side. “Have a good sleep, Hope. We’ll be watching. If you need anything just ask.”

  The two left the room.

  CHAPTER 24

  The Coldest Place

  Hope’s eyes glazed as she watched a shrunken Beetlejuice threaten the deceased Maitland family in the mini cemetery – her favorite scene. She’d seen it so many times but couldn’t help but giggle as he swore and grabbed his crotch. He was a disgusting thing.

  She licked her lips, the room felt too cold. She didn’t think it was something worth complaining about though, the whole building would be set to the same temperature. Hunkering lower into the covers, her eyelids felt a little heavy. There was an itch underneath a sticker tab she did her best to ignore. She looked up at the screen again and admired Geena Davis’s portrayal of Barbara Maitland; she’d had a massive girl crush on her when she was younger – she thought her a brilliant actress.

  The room fell colder again as she lost sight of the movie and drifted. Teetering on the edge of sleep, her thoughts went to Sombre. What would happen? What would Jessica and Taj see once she became Halliday? She pictured needle thin Gamma waves fluctuating across the clinic’s screens, crazy signature-like patterns drawn by an out-of-control digital hand. Her semi-conscious state delved further. She imagined flashing computer monitors overloading, sparks shooting from consoles, big messages of ‘SLEEP STATE OVERLOAD’ ‘PATIENT SAFETY ALERT’ ‘WAKE UP HOPE!’

  With a spasmodic jerk that startled her semi-awake, Hope opened her eyes. She was on her side, right eye covered in pillow, her left stared straight at the shimmering form of Ether. Black eyes watching her intensely, he squatted down at her bedside. His wet fringe came down past his eyes in thin strands. Beads of water dappled his cheeks and nose.

  A big grin came across his mouth as he put an index finger to his lips. He breathed a spit filled “shhhhh,” through his teeth. Peering down at the floor, eventually the ghoul shut his eyes.

  Hope shut hers as well.

  S

  There was no lead in nightmare. No rite of passage. There would be no Sombre tonight. Hope knew this to be true. She knew this, even in the unconsciousness of sleep. This was as horribly tangible, as physical, as any Sombre-led dream or nightmare she had ever had. She was definitely here. Dressed in stark white pajamas, she stood barefoot. White and blue and grey vapor filled her senses, blurred her vision. A dribble of water cascaded down a set of stairs to her left. The air was beyond cold. An unreal and persistent wind pushed against her cheeks yet didn’t ruffle her hair. Bitterly cold water drifted up to her ankles. Her frost-bitten fingertips felt pain in its purist form.

  A dirty blood red pulsed in the pale vapor ahead – the only sign of anything resembling life – living or dead. Hope felt something at her back, spider-like fingers ran up and down her spine. Gasping, she turned. There was no one, well, no one in body anyway - just a well-formed outline of an open mouth sucking in the wet vapor. The mouth hung in the air. She had an urge to see if it was real and poked it with her finger. It broke into particles, then instantly reformed when she pulled it away.

  The mouth whispered to her.

  “Hidden. This is the hidden place, Hope Kelley. This is The Isolate. You should already know this. Your isolated self becomes real here. Here, you cannot hide who you really are. This is your stilled heart … your stilled heart … your stilled heart … stilled heart.” The mouth coughed, and watery-spit exploded in her face.

  Hope felt a sudden, sharp, heavy pain in the centre of her chest. She doubled over and inhaled the cold - like a knife slipping down her throat.

  “Stand up straight, Hope Kelley, you of the pathetic! You
of the slovenly! You of the spiritless!” The mouth threatened, no longer a whisper, now a metallic waspish growl.

  Trying to stand, Hope’s body felt impossibly heavy; like a crane with multiple tons on its boom. She tried to speak and all that came out was gibberish. The gibberish turned into a gargle and she felt a liquid escape her mouth, “ugh!” Instinctively she caught the blood in her hand. The pain in her chest worsened. Peering down she saw a gaping wound had formed through her pyjama top. With one hand cupping the blood dribbling from her mouth; the other searched the hole between her breasts – it was large, her hand fit inside easily. Ice had crystallized the plasma, stemming any blood flow from the wound.

  “Look at me, Hope.”

  Hope lifted her head. As if standing in front of a mirror, she now stood face to face looking at a fully formed reflection of herself. A horrific looking reflection. Her eyes were seeping blood under her glasses, pink open cracks had formed over her cheeks and nose. The reflection’s speech was dry and croaky.

  “Never come here again, Hope. The Isolate is terminal. Do you hear me? Worlds end here.”

  Her reflection reached out and covered her face with her hand.

  Hope left The Isolate.

  S

  Hope woke facing the wall. Staring at the dish running away with the spoon, she momentarily forgot where she was.

  “Oh …” she croaked through the driest mouth imaginable. Clearing her throat, she reached for her water. There was another presence in the room. She felt the bed rise up.

  A smiling Jessica stood holding the beds remote yawning. “Well, that was interesting, and not very at the same time. Let’s get these wires off your person, shall we?”

  Hope lowered the glass from her mouth. “What happened? What did I do?” Fearing the absolute worst, she felt her heart rate go up. The monitor, still plugged in, picked up the elevation and beeped quicker.