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Spectre's Rest

Page 14

by Nick Moseley


  He scrambled in the dusty net, doing his best to move to the far edge so that he could let himself down. He glanced back over his shoulder. The wolf-thing was staring down at him from the second-floor walkway, its head thrust between the bars of the handrail. Trev shivered and turned away from its glowing green gaze, focusing himself on getting out of the net before the creature could make its way back down from the upper level.

  He did it with all the style and grace of a landed fish, flopping and squirming his way along. He was almost at the edge when a voice from below interrupted him.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  Richie stood just inside the doorway, looking up at him with an expression of bafflement mixed with annoyance.

  ‘Watch out!’ Trev said, pointing up at the walkway. ‘There’s a–’

  He tailed off as he realised that the wolf-thing was gone. There was no sign of it on the walkways, the stairs or the ground floor.

  ‘What?’ said Richie. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I was trying to get away from a… thing,’ Trev said.

  Richie folded his arms across his belly. ‘A thing?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Trev. He was just wondering how best to explain himself when the net broke. He had hold of the edge, and so found himself performing an involuntary forward flip as the net swung towards the floor. He landed on his feet, then, shortly afterwards, his face.

  ‘I’d give you about an eight point five,’ said Richie, making no attempt to help Trev get up.

  Trev rolled onto his back and ran his fingers across the bandage on his head. He was pleased to note that there wasn’t any fresh blood. His eyes swivelled around to Richie’s smirking face. Bad Trev lurched in his chest and sent a flash of anger through his brain.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘You look like a man who knows athletics.’

  Richie’s face dropped. ‘What?’

  Trev ignored him and climbed to his feet. He turned slowly on the spot, scanning the cell block for any sign of the wolf-thing. He saw nothing but shadows and neglected architecture. The adrenaline drained out of his system, leaving him exhausted and hollow.

  ‘Oi,’ said Richie. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Shut up, Richie,’ said Trev. ‘I was getting attacked by some bloody creature and where were you? Having a nice break in the crapper.’

  ‘Piss off,’ said Richie, his face reddening. ‘There’s no creature in here, just some little twat with a bandage.’

  ‘Right,’ said Trev. ‘I threw myself off a second-floor walkway for a laugh.’

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Richie said.

  Trev opened his mouth for a retort but was interrupted by Richie’s radio, which crackled into life with Grace Montano’s voice.

  ‘Grace to Richie. Report please.’

  ‘We’re in Block D,’ Richie said. ‘It’s clear, but Irwin’s claiming he saw a “creature” in here.’

  ‘What? What sort of creature?’

  Trev held his hand out for the radio but Richie turned his back on him. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing here. But Irwin managed to fall off one of the walkways and into the safety net.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  Trev tried to dodge around Richie and snatch the radio off him. The guard switched it to his other hand and barged Trev away with a beefy shoulder.

  ‘Yeah, I’m serious.’

  ‘I want you both back up here now,’ Montano said.

  ‘Received,’ said Richie. He returned the radio to his belt and grinned at Trev. ‘There you go. You can tell Grace all about it.’

  ‘Yeah, that and your twenty-minute toilet break,’ Trev said.

  ‘I’m allowed to go to the bog if I need to,’ Richie said. ‘All you had to do was wait for me, but you decided to wander off. That’s not my fault.’

  ‘You should probably go back to the toilet,’ Trev said, ‘because you’re clearly still full of shit.’

  He walked off, leaving a fuming Richie cursing in his wake.

  ‘That’s twice you’ve seen this “creature”,’ Montano said, leaning forwards across her desk, ‘but both times you’ve been on your own. Seems a bit convenient.’

  ‘I’m not lying,’ said Trev. Though his anger had evaporated somewhat on the walk back to the warden’s office, he could still feel it simmering below the surface. ‘Hasn’t this prison got CCTV, for God’s sake?’

  Montano toyed with a pen on her desk. ‘Yes, it has.’

  ‘So, review the footage from Block D and you’ll see that thing for yourself.’

  ‘We would, if the cameras had been working,’ Montano said. She looked embarrassed. ‘They cut out while you were in there. Though they came back online in time to get some footage of you and Richie arguing.’

  Trev snorted. ‘They cut out? Dare I say that seems a bit… convenient?’

  ‘I’ve got someone looking into it,’ said Montano, frowning at having her own words thrown back at her. ‘I’m not impressed, to say the least. But whatever the cause, it means you were the only one who saw, well, whatever it was you saw.’

  ‘Richie would’ve seen it too, if he hadn’t been skiving in the loo.’

  ‘I wasn’t skiving,’ Richie growled from behind Trev. ‘I had to go. It happens.’

  ‘I told you to stick together,’ Montano said. ‘If you needed the toilet you should have taken care of it before you went down to Block D in the first place.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re an adult, Richie. Surely I shouldn’t have to tell you that?’

  Richie made a stuttering sound but Montano’s glare prevented him from replying. Trev restrained a smile.

  ‘So tell me what you saw,’ Montano said to Trev. She sat back in her chair, her face stony. Trev cleared his throat and told the story, sticking to the facts. Montano listened in silence. In the corner of the room Desai leaned against the wall, the frown on her face deepening as Trev’s account progressed.

  ‘I’m not sure how you can criticise Richie for going to the toilet when you went wandering off yourself,’ Montano said when Trev had finished. ‘Not that your story is very convincing anyway.’

  ‘What?’ said Trev.

  ‘A wolf with glowing eyes?’ said Montano. ‘It didn’t sound likely the first time. You should’ve left it at that.’

  ‘I’m not lying,’ Trev said again, slapping a hand on Montano’s desk for emphasis. ‘I don’t give a shit whether you believe me or not. I saw what I saw. Do you think I’d jump off that walkway for no reason?’

  ‘Then where did it go?’ Montano demanded. ‘By the time Richie got there it was gone. Out of a room with only one exit. How?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Trev said. ‘I’m not an expert on the habits of shadow-creatures. Maybe you should give David Attenborough a call.’

  Montano shook her head. ‘It’s time to drop this nonsense and tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘I have told you.’

  ‘No,’ said Montano. ‘You’ve told us a fairytale. I want the truth.’

  Trev didn’t reply. A vein pulsed in his forehead.

  ‘What is it you think Trev is holding back, Grace?’ Desai asked.

  ‘The pair of you turn up here and within a few hours an important prisoner is dead,’ Montano replied, still looking at Trev. ‘Trevor’s found wandering near the cell block with a head wound, claiming that there was something prowling around outside. I give you both the benefit of the doubt, and the next thing I know he’s hanging in a net in Cell Block D rambling about this creature again, while a mysterious fault stops the cameras from recording what really happened.’

  She turned to Desai. ‘Now, either this is some kind of elaborate practical joke or there’s something going on which you aren’t telling me. Which is it?’

  ‘There’s a third option,’ Trev ground out. ‘That I’m telling the truth and there really is a creature.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ muttered Richie.

  ‘If it can disappear or turn invisib
le or whatever, maybe it was what killed Corbyn,’ Trev pressed on. Judging by Montano’s face, he’d have had a better chance of convincing her that he was Lord Lucan and that he’d arrived at Spectre’s Rest on board the Titanic.

  ‘Do we know Corbyn’s cause of death yet?’ Desai said, breaking the awkward silence that followed Trev’s suggestion.

  ‘Dr. Bookbinder’s investigation was… inconclusive,’ said Montano with a sigh. ‘I believe his exact words were “Corbyn died of being dead”.’

  ‘He died of nothing?’ Desai said.

  ‘And yet I’m the one who gets called a fantasist,’ Trev grumbled.

  ‘Mishti, I want the pair of you to go back to the staff quarters and stay there until further notice,’ said Montano. ‘I gave you a chance to prove yourselves trustworthy and you didn’t take it.’

  Desai folded her arms but didn’t argue. Trev caught her eye and raised his eyebrows in a silent apology. Montano waved a dismissive hand at them and picked up her radio to check in with the guards who were still out searching. From what Trev heard before Richie bundled him out of the door, they weren’t having much luck.

  Richie led them down to their rooms in silence. Trev suspected that Desai had some things she wanted to discuss with him, but she at least didn’t give him a bollocking in front of Richie. The guard looked quite pleased with himself. Trev ignored him, his anger finally spent. He was exhausted, and worried. It didn’t look like there was any hope of Montano letting them go for the time being, and there was a creature stalking him that only he could see and nobody else believed existed.

  Oh, and someone had confiscated his weapons.

  And before that, his girlfriend had dumped him.

  Yes. Life was good.

  Richie took them as far as the staff quarters before doing an about-face and walking off. Trev gave his retreating back the finger but as Desai had already gone into her room there was nobody to see it. There were a couple of guards in the common room watching TV and Trev didn’t feel like gate-crashing their party, so he went to his room and crashed out on the bed. His body took this as its cue to shut down and he was asleep within a few seconds.

  He was woken by Desai knocking on his door. He squinted at his watch and found that he’d been asleep for four hours. It was past ten p.m.

  He opened the door. ‘Hi,’ he said to Desai, rubbing at his eyes.

  ‘Sorry it’s late,’ she said, ‘but I think we need to sort a few things out. I came past earlier but I could hear you snoring through the door so I thought I’d leave you to it for a while.’

  Trev stepped aside and she walked past him, perching herself on the edge of the desk. ‘It gave me an opportunity to calm down a bit as well, if I’m honest.’

  Trev winced. ‘Look, I know that things didn’t go well earlier,’ he began.

  Desai held up a hand to stop him. ‘Just one question,’ she said. ‘What the hell is going on, Trev?’

  ‘Don’t you start,’ Trev said. ‘I wasn’t spinning Grace a line. What I told her back there was what happened.’

  ‘You’re serious about there being a creature chasing you around? One that nobody else has seen?’

  Trev took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But if it was in the cell block with you, where did it go?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I was trying to get away from it, so I didn’t see.’

  ‘You can understand why people are finding your story hard to believe, though?’

  ‘Of course I can,’ Trev snapped, ‘but think about it. If I wanted to invent a story, I’d come up with something a bit better than that.’

  ‘I’d hope so,’ said Desai. ‘I’m not being funny, but it sounds like complete nonsense.’

  ‘Thanks for the support,’ Trev said, deadpan. ‘But what about the CCTV? Don’t you think that’s dodgy? It just happened to break down when it could’ve backed up my story?’

  ‘It’s dodgy, I agree.’ Desai tapped a finger against the edge of the table. ‘I don’t know what to make of it. Do you think it did record the… incident and someone’s deleted it or something?’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ said Trev. ‘Or maybe the wolf-thing affected it somehow.’

  ‘Yes, maybe the “wolf-thing” affected it,’ said Desai wearily.

  ‘Oh come on, at least try to take me seriously.’

  Desai shrugged. ‘Put yourself in my place, Trev,’ she said. ‘Feargal put me in charge of this excursion, and at the moment we really haven’t covered ourselves in glory. Whatever happens, Grace will be writing a report on what happened here and it’s going to include us. I don’t think it’ll be complimentary.’

  ‘Sounds like Grace isn’t the only one who’s worried about her career,’ Trev said. He regretted the comment almost immediately. Desai had been more than fair with him, and he could see things from her point of view. She must have been wondering how she’d ended up being saddled with such a liability.

  ‘Don’t try and make this about me,’ said Desai. ‘I’ve been trying to fight your corner with Grace but you’re making it very difficult.’

  Trev adopted his most contrite expression. ‘Yeah, sorry. That was out of order.’ He self-consciously adjusted his bandage. ‘So what are we going to do?’

  ‘We just need to find out who or what killed Corbyn, locate Jerry Phelps, and deal with this creature you’ve been seeing,’ said Desai. ‘Without upsetting Grace by leaving the staff quarters.’

  ‘Well that’s a relief,’ said Trev. ‘I thought for a moment it was going to be difficult.’

  Desai grimaced. ‘We’ll just have to do what we can,’ she said. ‘It’s not like the solution is just going to fall into our–’

  ‘What was that?’ Trev interrupted. He pointed at the door, which was still ajar, and then to his ear.

  Desai frowned but went quiet and took a step towards the door, reaching into her jacket for her gun. There were a few seconds of silence, and then a shuffling sound from outside in the corridor, followed by a sighing breath.

  Desai motioned for Trev to stay back and stepped into the corridor. She held her gun out in front of her, index finger resting lightly on the trigger guard. Trev let her get out into the corridor before going after her. By the time he caught up, she was at the junction with the main corridor and holstering her gun. Trev peered past her to see what she’d found.

  Dr. Bookbinder stood in front of her. He was in a set of rather frayed pyjamas, navy blue with a red stripe, and he appeared to be asleep. His breathing was slow and steady and his eyes were half-closed. As Trev watched, he shuffled forwards another step.

  ‘Sleepwalking,’ said Desai softly.

  ‘Should we wake him up,’ Trev asked, ‘or just leave him be?’

  ‘No idea, but we can’t leave him wandering,’ said Desai. ‘He could hurt himself.’

  ‘Couldn’t we just point him in the direction of his office and hope he finds his way back?’

  Desai’s expression suggested that this wasn’t an option. Trev made a face at her and walked over to Bookbinder. ‘Dr. Bookbinder?’ he said softly. ‘Leo?’

  There was no response, so he reached out and took hold of Bookbinder’s shoulder, intending to give him a gentle shake. The reaction to making contact was immediate. Bookbinder stiffened, and his hands shot out, grabbing Trev by the upper arms.

  ‘They didn’t know,’ he hissed. His eyes were fully open now, but they stared through Trev and into nothingness. ‘It was an experiment. They didn’t know what would happen. Couldn’t know.’

  ‘What?’ said Trev. He tried unsuccessfully to extricate himself. Bookbinder’s grip was far stronger than he would’ve expected.

  ‘When they built this place,’ Bookbinder continued, ‘they were just guessing. They didn’t know. Wanted to make things better. Couldn’t know.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Trev said.

  ‘It was their mistake,’ Bookbinder said. ‘They’re all gone now, but not the mistake.’

  He tensed again
, pulling Trev in so that they were almost nose to nose.

  ‘It is AWAKE!’

  Eighteen

  Bookbinder cradled a steaming cup of vending-machine coffee in his hands. Trev’s efforts to free himself had woken the old man, and he had been confused and upset. They’d taken him to the common room and put him on one of the sofas. Trev had gone to his room and retrieved his blanket, which he draped around Bookbinder’s shoulders. The doctor nodded his thanks.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Trev asked. ‘You gave us a bit of a fright there.’

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ said Bookbinder, waving a hand. ‘Just a little embarrassed to be found wandering about in my nightclothes.’

  ‘Do you sleepwalk often?’ Trev said.

  ‘It happened occasionally when I was a young man,’ Bookbinder said. He took a sip of the watery coffee and forced himself to swallow it. ‘I once woke up in a pub beer garden.’

  ‘We’ve all done that,’ said Trev. ‘Though I can’t really blame sleepwalking in my case.’

  Bookbinder dredged up a ghost of a smile. ‘At least you’re honest,’ he said. ‘It hasn’t happened to me for many years. I thought I was over it.’

  ‘Any idea what set it off?’ Trev said, leaning against the wall with rather forced nonchalance.

  ‘No,’ said Bookbinder. He half-raised the coffee to his lips, then wrinkled his nose and put it aside. ‘No idea.’

  ‘You talked a bit,’ Desai said. She was leaning against the table, also trying to look nonchalant.

  ‘Did I?’ said Bookbinder, his eyes suddenly wary.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Desai. ‘You said something about this place being built as an experiment.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Bookbinder, snatching the lead from Trev in the forced-nonchalance stakes.

  ‘Any idea what you meant?’ Trev said.

  ‘Not a clue,’ said Bookbinder. ‘Well, I suppose this place was experimental when it was built. Nobody had tried a large-scale prison for supernatural beings before. That must have been what I meant.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ said Trev. He caught Desai’s eye for a second. ‘You also said that the people who built this place made “a mistake”, and that they were gone but the mistake was still here.’

 

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