Haunters (9780545502542)

by Taylor, Thomas

  “What do you mean, ‘getting something’? Don’t start all that again.”

  “David, dreams can tell us about how we really feel. You never cried enough when Dad died, so the sadness is coming out another way. It’s obvious,” Philippa said, showering her brother with crumbs in the middle of the last word.

  David couldn’t help smiling. Phizzy was the most irritating person on the planet, but she was still his own little sister — noisy, yes, and always smelling of sugar, but somehow he didn’t mind her talking to him as much as he made out. And she was the strongest link he had left with his father. Their father.

  “Phil, you haven’t told anyone about my dream, have you? It’s just that, well, they’re saying things at school again. About me.”

  “David, I’ll never tell anyone. Never!” Philippa said, and in such a way that David had to believe her. She was looking at him with her biggest eyes. “It’s a special thing, too special to be told. It’s our secret. I mean, a real secret. Eddie is your dream friend.”

  David winced. He’d been close to changing his mind about the cake, but hearing Eddie’s name spoken out loud and in such a childish way made him cringe with embarrassment.

  “Just don’t tell anyone, yeah? Don’t talk about it.”

  “I won’t,” said Philippa. “Not even to Mum.”

  “Especially not to Mum!!”

  “Though she’d understand, Davy,” said Philippa, examining her sticky spoon. “She’d love to hear that something’s still happening with Dad. She might be happier if —”

  “Happier?” David almost laughed. “If you tell her any of this, you’ll just set her off again.”

  Philippa narrowed her eyes at him, the spoon stuck firmly in her mouth.

  “At least Mum showed her feelings,” she mumbled, “unlike my idiot, tough-guy brother.”

  “Just keep it to yourself, okay?” David snapped.

  “But why not tell her?” said Philippa, waving the spoon. “You aren’t the only one who misses Dad, you know.”

  David slammed the lid back onto the cake tin.

  “There’re nearly two hours to go before you have to get up, Phil. So why don’t you take that cake to bed and read one of your stupid books?”

  To his surprise, Philippa seemed to like the idea.

  “I can always blame you when Mum finds the pan empty,” she said, and she hopped down from the stool, grabbed David’s glass of juice, and drank it all in one gulp.

  “G’night,” she said. “Or good morning.”

  “Whatever.”

  David watched his sister cross the still-dark kitchen to the door. She had a teddy bear tucked firmly under one arm. David recognized it as one his dad had once given him, but that was a long, long time ago. As he expected, his sister turned at the doorway in order to get the last word in.

  “Davy?”

  “What?” said David with a tired voice.

  “These weird dreams you’ve been having? Have you tried asking Eddie about them?”

  “Oh, go away, Phizzy!”

  Five minutes later David crept back to his room and got dressed. There was no point in hanging around the house until school, so he decided to go out on his bike to blast away his sore head for good. At this time in the morning the roads would still be pretty clear and the air fresh.

  He wasn’t supposed to go out on his own in the dark, but there was no way he was going to be kept locked up any longer, especially since these days his mother probably wouldn’t notice anyway. And wasn’t the teen in fourteen supposed to mean something? He did take his phone, though. Just in case Mum got up earlier than expected.

  It was freezing outside and gray-blue, with the dawn barely begun in the eastern sky — a typical autumn morning in suburban London. There weren’t many people about, and those he saw were wrapped up in their own business, getting into cars or walking to catch trains. David didn’t pay them much attention as he shot out into the street on his bike and raced down the road.

  Phil and her stupid theories! She really did think Eddie was some kind of dream symbol of their father, despite the fact that their dad had been a healthy soldier named Richard, not a sickly bespectacled boy named Eddie. And Dad had had light, near-blond hair, whereas Eddie’s, like David’s, was dark brown. Altogether, if Eddie resembled anyone, it was David himself. But it wasn’t like looking in a mirror or anything. David was slim like Eddie, but also wiry and strong. And Eddie had an old-fashioned way of dressing that must cause him a lot of trouble at school. Except that Eddie didn’t seem to go to school. And then there was all the writing …

  David stopped the bike with a squeal of brakes. He was doing it again, thinking about Eddie like he was a real person. But Eddie didn’t exist — he was just a figure from a dream, a made-up boy. Yes, the dreams were very vivid, and yes, when he had them he never realized that he was only dreaming. But now, wide-awake and standing in the middle of the road as the rush-hour traffic was about to start, David told himself once again to get a grip.

  He kicked up the pedal and raced off again. A van pulled out behind him. He cycled hard for a while and felt the last of his headache clear. Then he became aware that the van was just rolling along behind him even though there was plenty of room to pass. He looked back.

  The van sped up immediately. The windows were dark, but David knew that anyone inside would be getting a clear view of him as the van eased past. It turned left and vanished from sight. David cycled on, but when he turned the corner himself he saw that the van was just rolling along again, exactly as if it were waiting for him. So David changed direction. He rattled down a flight of concrete steps, dodged the dumpsters down a back alley, and then zigzagged his way around some posts and back out onto a road. In no time he was jumping onto the sidewalk of his own street.

  And the van was parked right outside his house.

  David rode his bike down the covered passage to the yard and then dumped it in the shed. When he let himself in, his fingers fumbled with the keys. Stupid Eddie! Stupid dream! And now he was getting paranoid.

  He flopped into an armchair and nervously sat out the rest of the time until school, trying to concentrate on the television.

  On his way to school, David kept a wary eye out for the van with tinted windows. He didn’t see it, but at the same time, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being watched. He cycled slowly, allowing Philippa to keep up. He’d been worried that she would want to talk about Eddie again, but instead she just gave him knowing looks whenever she caught his eye. He was relieved when they separated at the bike sheds and Philippa ran off to her friends. She was lucky, David thought, as he walked into the building alone.

  His first class was physics, which was almost enough to bring back the headache. The teacher droned at the front of the class and pointed to a diagram of something to do with space and time, while David struggled to keep his eyes open.

  “Didn’t get enough sleep?” said a low voice behind him. David ignored it.

  “Dreaming up some new stories about your dad?” said someone else.

  David tensed.

  “What was he last time?” whispered the first voice again. “Soldier, wasn’t it? Or astronaut?”

  All around people snickered.

  David wasn’t popular at school. He could never work out why. Perhaps he should have made more effort at the beginning, but it was probably too late now. And maybe it was his own fault for talking too much about a dad no one at school had ever actually seen, not even the teachers. It hadn’t taken some of the pushier kids long to decide he was just dreaming it all up. Either that or hiding the fact that his dad was in prison or something.

  There had been real sympathy, though, when news spread that David’s soldier dad had been killed on some far-off battlefield. The head teacher had talked about it in front of the whole school, and even the kids who thought David was a joke looked at him with awe for a few weeks. But then someone noticed that he never talked about his father anymore �
�� that he hardly talked at all, in fact. Suspicion returned, and it wasn’t long before everything was back as it had been before. Unable to explain how empty his life had become, David found another way to express himself. There were fights, and because David was stronger than he looked, he often won, triggering the perverse logic of all teachers that the winner of a playground scrap is always to blame.

  “Astronaut?” hissed someone else. “Nah, you’ve got to be real to be an astronaut.”

  David struggled to control his rage. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the teacher’s voice.

  “David Utherwise! David!”

  David jerked his head up and blinked in surprise. The whole class had turned to look at him. One of the school secretaries was standing in the doorway, clearly annoyed.

  “David, could you please report to Mrs. Fernley’s office,” she said, in a way that suggested she’d already said it several times.

  The class started jeering, though they did that with everyone when they were called out. But the kids sitting behind him made here-we-go-again noises until the teacher started shouting at them.

  David made his way to the door. He couldn’t think of any reason why the headmistress would want to see him.

  “Have I done something wrong?” he asked the secretary as they walked down the corridor.

  “Not this time,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “There are some people here to pick you up, that’s all.”

  “Pick me up? But … where am I going?”

  “Well, surely you know,” said the secretary.

  David stared at the woman. There was nothing planned that he knew about, and his mum hadn’t left him one of her notes, he was sure of that.

  “What kind of car did they come in?”

  “They haven’t come in a car,” said the secretary. “It’s an ambulance.”

  “Not a van, then?” said David after a moment, but the secretary ignored him.

  They arrived at the office and David was shown in. Mrs. Fernley was sitting at her desk, and as soon as David saw her gray face, he knew that something was very wrong. For some reason the blinds were closed, leaving the room in semidarkness.

  “David, there you are,” said the headmistress, her voice shaky. “Your doctor has come in person. Why didn’t you go to your hospital appointment today?”

  David wanted to say, Because I didn’t have one to go to, but instead he looked at the woman who was sitting opposite Mrs. Fernley. Her face made David think of sharks, and her simple, chic suit had an unfriendly hint of uniform about it. Then he noticed there was someone else in the room. Standing in the shadows of the darkest corner was a teenage girl. She had white-blonde hair, and from her outfit she appeared to be a nurse, though in the gloom it was hard to be sure. The hairs stiffened on the back of David’s neck — it was hard to be sure there was anyone there at all.

  “Now, David,” said the shark-faced woman, “if you’re ready, we’ll be going. We’ve taken an ambulance off normal duties to collect you.”

  David blinked at her. Then he looked at Mrs. Fernley. “Old Sternley” ruled the school by force of presence alone — she was the kind of principal who could quiet an unruly class simply by entering the room. Yet here she was sitting meekly behind her desk, fiddling with her pen, her head bowed. David was shocked.

  “I’ve just been on the phone with your mother, David,” Mrs. Fernley said eventually, her eyes never leaving the girl in the shadows. “She’s waiting for you at the hospital.”

  “You’ve spoken to my mum?” said David in surprise.

  Mrs. Fernley gave a startled nod.

  “Yes, so let’s not waste any more time, shall we?” said the shark-faced doctor with a sickly smile, and her chair scraped the floor as she stood.

  “But I don’t have an appointment at the hospital.” David stepped back. “Mrs. Fernley, I’m not even ill.”

  At this, Mrs. Fernley seemed taken by a sudden doubt. She knitted her brow at David as if seeing him for the first time, and for a moment her normal expression of imperious authority returned — something David had never thought he’d be happy to see. She turned back to the doctor as if she was going to question her, but before she could speak, the nurse in the shadows stepped forward. She moved so smoothly it was almost as if she wasn’t touching the floor, and she looked at the teacher with furious intensity, her eyes as bright as pins. Mrs. Fernley drew in a sharp breath.

  “Everything is fine,” the nurse said in a voice like frozen honey. “We are here to take David, that’s all. Everything is fine.”

  Her voice was so persuasive that even David felt everything would be okay if he just went with them, no questions asked. As if sensing this, the doctor put her hand on his shoulder.

  It was only as David found himself being propelled to the door that his alarm returned.

  “But, Mrs. Fernley,” he blurted out, “I don’t know who these people are!”

  Mrs. Fernley didn’t even look his way as she stammered out a reply.

  “Try not to forget your hospital appointments in the future, David. Your health is important.”

  Then David was out in the corridor, being swept along. The woman gripped him under the arm, so far up that he found it impossible to turn and confront her. And perhaps he really did have an appointment today — it wouldn’t be the first time he’d got something like that wrong. He managed to take his phone from his pocket and began to key in a number.

  “What are you doing?” snapped the doctor. Then, in a softer tone, she added, “We don’t have much time, David. You can call your friends later.”

  “I’m ringing home,” said David. No way was he leaving school with this woman without hearing from Mum first.

  The woman didn’t reply, but marched him through the main doors and out to the parking lot, where an ambulance waited. David stopped, planting his feet firmly as he waited for an answer. The doors of the ambulance opened, and a young male paramedic, who could hardly be older than the nurse, leaned out.

  At last, his mum picked up the phone.

  “Oh, hi, David,” she said. “How’s school?”

  “Mum, do I have an appointment at the hospital today?” David asked, one eye on the paramedic. David saw him smirk as he pressed a button on a console.

  There was no reply.

  The line was dead.

  “It must be interference from the ambulance,” said the doctor. “Get in.”

  But David didn’t move. The paramedic stared straight back at him with bright cold eyes, and David found he couldn’t look away. He’d seen that devilish smile before. It was the boy he’d seen on the roof of Eddie’s house.

  He was staring at the strange boy from his dream!

  The boy laughed at the look on David’s face, and then in a rush of movement he lunged at him, snatching up a syringe with his other hand.

  David reacted instinctively. Before he knew what was happening, he’d used his foot to thrust himself back from the ambulance, knocking the doctor to the ground behind him. The paramedic’s grasping fingers missed by a whisker.

  “Grab him!”

  David leaped up, leaving the doctor winded on the ground, and ran for the school perimeter. He could already hear someone running behind him as he grabbed the bricks and hauled himself easily over the top. He dropped lightly to his feet on the other side and sprinted down the path, ducking quickly into a narrow passage between two houses. He wedged himself behind the trash cans and tried not to move, though his heart was pounding. After just a moment’s silence, there was a blur of movement at the end of the passage, and the nurse flashed past, moving faster than he’d have thought possible. He drew his head back, not daring to breathe. It was a full minute before he peered out again.

  No one.

  David released the air from his straining lungs, but almost immediately he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

  Someone was down in the shadows at the other end of the passage, a slim silhouette. She had t
angled hair, though the rest of her features were lost in shadow. She was beckoning to him.

  “This way, David!”

  David kept still and low. Who was she? How did she know his name?

  The girl crept forward a little.

  “Quickly! If you stay there they’ll find you.”

  “Who … who are you?” David called, as loudly as he dared. But the girl didn’t reply. She simply beckoned to him again, then shot back down the passage. In a second she’d disappeared out the other side.

  Whoever this new girl was, she wasn’t the freaky blonde nurse, and right then that was enough for David. He ran down the passage to try and catch another glimpse of her.

  Stepping out into the street, David paused on the pavement. There was no one there, not even anywhere to hide. The girl had vanished so completely that once again he found himself questioning what he’d actually seen. Then, far, far down the road, the same tangle-haired head popped out from behind the trunk of a large tree and beckoned to him again.

  David stared. How could she have got that far in just a few seconds? But he didn’t know what else to do, so he sprinted toward her.

  David didn’t see the van until it had almost knocked him down. It screeched out of a side road and pulled up inches from his nose. The door slid open, and two pairs of black-gloved hands reached out and seized him. He opened his mouth to shout but a piece of damp cloth was clamped over his face. The cloth was soaked in something that filled his nostrils and instantly clouded his mind. He saw dark shapes. He focused briefly on the face of a man in a black visor.

  Then the world went out like a light.

  It was a long time before David could be certain about anything again. He had a vague memory of being jostled about and moved between vehicles, and he was pretty sure that he’d been close to an aircraft of some sort. But it was only now, alone in a strange place, that he was fully aware of his surroundings.

  He was sitting at an aluminum table in a large room with walls of rough-hewn rock. All around him, wooden crates were heaped up in the shadows. One of them was open, and from a mass of packing straw, something stiff rose into the air. It was a human arm. It took David a panicky moment to realize that the arm was made of stone, and that the crate must contain a statue.