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Authors: Spike Black
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hear her. She moved in front of him, blocking his view. “It’s just a dream. You’re still asleep.”
“No.”
“Yes. You’re seeing things.”
“He’s there. He’s right there.”
Silas pulled away sharply, his head jerking about like a crazed animal until he focused on her face and began to breathe easier.
“That’s it,” she said softly. “That’s it.”
His eyes raised and met hers. “He’s looking straight at me.”
Oona stroked his damp hair. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep looking at me.”
After a long moment, he broke her gaze. “He’s still there…”
His face crumbled and he sobbed, softly at first. Oona put her arms around him and he began to howl. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…”
“Ssh,” she said, as calmly as she could manage with her heart racing and her voice shaking and her mind full of fear.
She had experienced some frightening things on this holiday, but none of them came close to invoking in her the level of terror she felt right then, fearing that her husband had lost his mind. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s all right.”
Eventually his sobbing abated, and after a few minutes he had stopped completely, the occasional cry hitching in his throat, his arms clamped tight around her. She stroked his hair, settled him down and tucked the covers around him.
It was just a waking dream, she told herself. He had still been asleep, and he hadn’t even realized it. The mind does strange things when it can’t cope , as Silas himself had said.
She reached over him and flicked out the light. A chill ran through her as she sat there in the dark, thinking about the fear in Silas’s eyes and the panic in his voice.
Do you see him?
She turned over, closed her eyes, and remained awake for the rest of the long, long night.
17
S creeee—screeee—screeee—screeee—
The next time the alarm went off in the cell block, Silas’s heart slammed in his chest, his palms moistened and his mouth became dry. Those distant screams echoed through his mind.
Roland hollered and rubbed his hands together. “Here we go again…”
Wendy shook her head and tutted. “Why does it do that? Brian, what’s the deal with the bloody thing?”
“It’s bust,” Kelvin interjected. “We need to get someone in to pull all the wiring out.”
Silas was watching Brian. The sergeant was staring into space, an odd look in his eyes. He was the longest serving officer at the station, and if anyone knew anything about the alarm, it would be him.
“What are you thinking about, Brian?” Silas asked.
Brian leaned back in his chair and took a cricket ball from his desk. Tossed it in the air and caught it. “I’m thinking about the screaming,” he said, and Silas’s stomach lurched.
“This sounds interesting,” Roland said, pulling up a chair.
Wendy shivered. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“The last cell,” Brian said. “On the back wall. That’s where we always put the real dangerous ones. The loons. And George Olsen - that man was off his rocker. He was a wiry little man with an odd, shriveled face, but the scary thing about Olsen was that you only had to look in his eyes to see that he was capable of anything.
“See, you lot wouldn’t know, but when you have prisoners, well, sometimes checking on them isn’t as simple as opening the hatch on the cell door. If they’re drunk, or a danger to themselves, you have to go in and wake them up, or make sure, you know…”
“Make sure they’re still alive,” Kelvin offered.
“Right. Hourly rousing, it’s called. But Pete Stone had only been in the job six months, and he was like all of us when we start out. Keen to show how bloody capable he was. A big, buff guy. And there was George Olsen, the wrinkly little shit. Who knows what went down, maybe Olsen pretended to be dead or something, but Pete ignored his training and just went in there. He unlocked that madman’s cell and went in there on his own.”
“No.”
“Yes. You’re seeing things.”
“He’s there. He’s right there.”
Silas pulled away sharply, his head jerking about like a crazed animal until he focused on her face and began to breathe easier.
“That’s it,” she said softly. “That’s it.”
His eyes raised and met hers. “He’s looking straight at me.”
Oona stroked his damp hair. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep looking at me.”
After a long moment, he broke her gaze. “He’s still there…”
His face crumbled and he sobbed, softly at first. Oona put her arms around him and he began to howl. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…”
“Ssh,” she said, as calmly as she could manage with her heart racing and her voice shaking and her mind full of fear.
She had experienced some frightening things on this holiday, but none of them came close to invoking in her the level of terror she felt right then, fearing that her husband had lost his mind. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s all right.”
Eventually his sobbing abated, and after a few minutes he had stopped completely, the occasional cry hitching in his throat, his arms clamped tight around her. She stroked his hair, settled him down and tucked the covers around him.
It was just a waking dream, she told herself. He had still been asleep, and he hadn’t even realized it. The mind does strange things when it can’t cope , as Silas himself had said.
She reached over him and flicked out the light. A chill ran through her as she sat there in the dark, thinking about the fear in Silas’s eyes and the panic in his voice.
Do you see him?
She turned over, closed her eyes, and remained awake for the rest of the long, long night.
17
S creeee—screeee—screeee—screeee—
The next time the alarm went off in the cell block, Silas’s heart slammed in his chest, his palms moistened and his mouth became dry. Those distant screams echoed through his mind.
Roland hollered and rubbed his hands together. “Here we go again…”
Wendy shook her head and tutted. “Why does it do that? Brian, what’s the deal with the bloody thing?”
“It’s bust,” Kelvin interjected. “We need to get someone in to pull all the wiring out.”
Silas was watching Brian. The sergeant was staring into space, an odd look in his eyes. He was the longest serving officer at the station, and if anyone knew anything about the alarm, it would be him.
“What are you thinking about, Brian?” Silas asked.
Brian leaned back in his chair and took a cricket ball from his desk. Tossed it in the air and caught it. “I’m thinking about the screaming,” he said, and Silas’s stomach lurched.
“This sounds interesting,” Roland said, pulling up a chair.
Wendy shivered. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“The last cell,” Brian said. “On the back wall. That’s where we always put the real dangerous ones. The loons. And George Olsen - that man was off his rocker. He was a wiry little man with an odd, shriveled face, but the scary thing about Olsen was that you only had to look in his eyes to see that he was capable of anything.
“See, you lot wouldn’t know, but when you have prisoners, well, sometimes checking on them isn’t as simple as opening the hatch on the cell door. If they’re drunk, or a danger to themselves, you have to go in and wake them up, or make sure, you know…”
“Make sure they’re still alive,” Kelvin offered.
“Right. Hourly rousing, it’s called. But Pete Stone had only been in the job six months, and he was like all of us when we start out. Keen to show how bloody capable he was. A big, buff guy. And there was George Olsen, the wrinkly little shit. Who knows what went down, maybe Olsen pretended to be dead or something, but Pete ignored his training and just went in there. He unlocked that madman’s cell and went in there on his own.”
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