Pressure

by Betsy Reavley

  ‘Greedy little bird,’ I mutter as I back away and watch her eat from a distance. ‘Greedy, greedy, little bird.’

  She swallows the mouthful of dry biscuit with difficulty, so I offer her some water, which she gulps down gratefully.

  ‘Don’t worry, little bird.’ I cup her head in my hands and bend down on my heels. ‘You look scared.’

  Sitting down on the dusty floor I grow accustomed to the low light in the room. She refuses to meet my eye.

  ‘Sing for me.’

  She lifts her head, showing me her sad eyes and gaunt face.

  ‘Please?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘But that is why I brought you here. I want you to sing.’

  ‘I can’t do it…’ Her voice is broken and a tear rolls down her white cheek. ‘I won’t.’

  Letting out a long sigh I get up off the floor and dust myself off.

  ‘If you will not sing then I no longer have any use for you,’ I say, moving over to the table where a knife is laid out.

  ‘Wait, please.’ The words trip out of her mouth. ‘Can you just explain it all to me? I need to understand. You owe me that much. I’m your little bird. You owe me that much.’

  I turn my back to the table and I have to tear my eyes away from the glinting blade.

  ‘Very well. I will tell you everything but I don’t think you are going to like it.’

  She sits there while I tell her all about Mummy and Robin. Her face doesn’t flinch but her eyes say everything.

  ‘And then Olly.’ I pause. ‘I thought he was the one, I really did. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to use those words? It was all going so well. I’d got my life on track.’ It is my turn to feel pain now.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Susie says gently. ‘Your mother was abusive. She didn’t give you a choice. You were a child.’

  ‘Mummy couldn’t help herself,’ I agree.

  ‘But you have a choice now. You don’t have to be like her—’

  ‘What?’ I interrupt.

  ‘I mean’—she hesitates—‘you can be kind. You can be gentle and forgiving.’

  ‘I am nothing like her,’ I spit. ‘She made me hurt her. Just like Olly and the others. Don’t you understand? I only got rid of them so that we could be together. The oxygen, you said it yourself, there isn’t enough for everyone. They were bad people: Anya, Ray. All bad people. They didn’t deserve the air they breathed. But you do, little bird, and so do I. That’s why I did it. For us.’

  Susie hangs her head and lets out a long pained sigh.

  ‘Do you want me to sing?’ she asks, her head still resting on her chest.

  ‘More than anything.’ I sink to my knees.

  ‘Then you need to untie me. What good is a bird that doesn’t have its wings?’

  I pause for a moment and think about what she is saying. It does make sense but I’m frightened. ‘I don’t want you to go away again, Robin. I’ve been so lonely.’ I start to cry.

  ‘It’s okay. Really, Zara, I’m here. I will sing if you just let me go. A bird needs its freedom. It’s not like I can really leave anyway. Where would I go? We are trapped here. There is no way out.’ Her soft voice calms me. ‘I was your little bird then and I want to be the same little bird now but you have to give me my freedom.’

  ‘And you promise you won’t try and fly away?’

  ‘I have nowhere else to go.’ She smiles sadly.

  ‘Everything we need is here.’ I get to my feet and approach her cautiously.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she encourages.

  ‘I’m so happy to have you back. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.’ My hands are shaking with emotion and I struggle to loosen the ties around her wrist.

  Once freed she rubs her wrists and smiles at me. ‘Thank you,’ she says in a shaky voice. ‘Now my feet. Can you untie my feet?’

  ‘What are you going to sing?’ I ask as I begin to fiddle with the restraints.

  ‘What would you like to hear?’

  ‘Oh, that’s a tough one. I have so many favourite songs.’ I find myself thinking back to my childhood and imagining the songs Mummy might have sung to me had things been different. ‘Do you know ‘Hush, Little Baby’?’

  ‘Yes.’ She swallows hard. ‘I know it well.’

  Just as I free her feet she kicks out violently, knocking me back.

  ‘You lied!’ I cry with hurt.

  ‘Luke!’ she screams. ‘Luke, help me!’

  Then Susie charges at me with all her might and we tumble to the floor as she pulls at my hair. But I am stronger than her and it doesn’t take long before I have gained control by getting her in a headlock.

  ‘Why couldn’t you just be good?’ I sob as I continue to squeeze my arm around her neck. ‘Why couldn’t you just sing…’

  42

  The Pica Explorer

  Day six. Hour 08:15.

  I sit with her, stroking her short hair and I notice how dirty it is. She hasn’t had a wash for a few days. None of us have. We are both on the ground and her body is slumped onto my lap while I smooth her greasy fringe out of the way so that I can see her face properly. She looks like she is sleeping. Her body is cold and skinny. I can feel her shoulder blades digging into my thighs.

  Looking around the empty room I am glad I am not by myself. It would be frightening being on the bottom of the ocean floor, trapped alone, but I am lucky – I have my Robin back.

  It is clear I am going to die here but I have accepted it and am at peace. For the first time in my life I am where I belong and where I am meant to be. For all my life I’ve felt like a stranger walking the earth, like I don’t belong. But here, with my little bird, I can at last be myself. My childhood was filled with sadness and fear but that has all melted away now.

  I say a silent goodbye to Mummy and Olly. Olly was a mistake. It should never have happened. Who was I kidding? I was never going to escape my past and it was greedy to think I could go on and have a happy life. For so long I wanted to be like everyone else but now I know that was pointless and now I have accepted what I am. It doesn’t matter that they are all dead. Perhaps I, too, am dead. Maybe I’ve never been alive. Maybe this is all just a dream and I am the figment of someone’s twisted imagination. Perhaps this is just a story and I am a character playing a role. I don’t know anymore.

  Letting out a long sigh I slide Robin’s head off my lap and get up to stretch. I am exhausted and thankful I don’t have to fight anymore.

  On a chair in the far corner I see a video camera and approach it. Picking it up I go and settle on another chair and set the camera up on the table, so that it is facing me.

  It’s unlikely we will ever be found but I now have an opportunity to set the record straight, so I look into the lens and begin to speak. The words pour out of me and I tell the camera everything. There should be a record of what happened here. It should not be lost.

  Perhaps one day this vessel will be discovered, the bones of everyone on board lying scattered around. Maybe the sea will eventually eat through the walls and we will become one with the salt water. I don’t know what will happen and there is painful bliss in the uncertainty, but what I do know is that I have a chance to set the record straight and I will tell my story and share the ugliness that I have suffered and been the cause of. Mummy set me on this course. There was never any way that I would escape my fate. She saw to that.

  It occurs to me, for the very first time, that perhaps I am like her. She was cruel and sadistic and that is what I have become – but it is all her fault. If only she’d loved me. If only she hadn’t brought Nick into our lives. If only she hadn’t killed Robin. But there is little point crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done and now I must accept what has happened.

  Turning off the camera, I wrap it in a towel and put it in a cupboard, to keep it safe. At last there is a record and I feel better for expelling the truth. It came flooding out of me like a tidal wave and the fog from my mind h
as lifted for the first time since I can remember. No longer do I feel like a ghost watching the world turning around me. Now I am part of it and I can exist in the present.

  Returning to Susie I bend down and squat on my heels. I no longer see a person. I see a bird. The feathers start to gently push their way through her skin, sprouting like flowers in spring. The place where her nose once was begins to transform into a perfect little beak. Rolling her onto her back I spread her arms out and watch the feathers grow out of her limbs. It is magical and I sit back, watching in awe as the transformation takes place in front of my eyes. Her wings are there now, returned to their rightful owner, and the memory of the broken little body I last saw on the kitchen floor, when I was a child, has faded into oblivion and been replaced by the marvel I see before me.

  ‘You have your wings back, little bird.’ Tears stream down my face. ‘I fixed you.’

  Just as I reach out to touch the miracle I hear a loud thud from somewhere in the distance and then the sound of heavy footsteps growing louder.

  ‘No, no.’ I cradle my head in my hands. ‘Leave me alone.’ The pain in my skull is instant and stabs like a knife. I begin to sweat and a violent wave of nausea hits me in the stomach.

  Whimpering, I crawl towards my bird and rest my head on its chest. I can hear the heart beating and the life flowing through its veins.

  ‘You are alive?’ Lifting my head I look into its eyes, which have opened wide. The beak begins to move and as I watch I think my heart might explode in my chest. Its black eyes are staring. ‘Come on, Robin, you can do it. Just sing. Sing one more time.’ The giant sparrow tips its head back and opens its beak.

  ‘Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.’ The tune carries around the room and the sound is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It is more than a song that I hear. It is a musical instrument playing. It speaks to my soul and cuts through the pain in my head. I am hypnotised by the beauty of the sound.

  In the distance somewhere I hear banging on the door to the room I am in and a muffled voice calling out to me but I cannot make sense of the words.

  ‘Keep singing, little bird.’ I close my eyes and let the music travel through me. ‘Keep singing.’

  43

  The Pica Explorer

  Day six. Hour 08:30.

  ‘Let me in.’ I bang on the door with my fists. ‘It’s me, Luke! Come on. What’s going on in there? I heard someone screaming.’

  After trying for so long I managed to burst through the door that was keeping me trapped in the bunkroom. I can’t believe they locked me in there.

  I walked around looking for them but everywhere I went all I saw was death. Sam, Frank, Anya, they are all dead and I don’t understand what has happened to these dudes.

  It was when I heard someone call out that I knew I had to get out of there. I kicked and kicked until the door gave way. My foot really aches now but it hasn’t stopped me looking for people. I know someone is alive. I heard them.

  ‘Who’s in there? Are you okay? What is going on?’ Resting my tired head against the door, I struggle to hear. There is no sound coming from the room but I know there is someone in there. It has been locked from the inside.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I tell them. ‘I’m better now. I just freaked out a bit. You can trust me. Let me in, guys.’ Still there is no response.

  ‘You can’t leave me out here.’ The rage erupts from nowhere and I start slamming my hands against the door so hard that my palms begin to sting.

  ‘Just fucking open the door!’

  ‘Is that you, Luke?’ A weak voice comes from inside the room.

  ‘Yes, yes. Zara, is that you? Where’s everyone else?’

  ‘I’m scared, Luke. I don’t understand what’s going on.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’m here. Let me in.’ I’m doing my best to sound calm even though that isn’t how I feel.

  ‘You’ll hurt me.’ Zara sounds childlike.

  ‘No, no I won’t. I promise. I just want to make sure you are all right. That’s all.’ Putting my ear against the cold door I try to listen better. ‘Come on, Zara, it’s okay. You can do it. Just open up. Please.’

  ‘I can’t.’ I can hear that she has come closer to the door. ‘Mummy won’t let me.’ There is something strange in her voice, something I don’t recognise and it makes my blood run cold.

  ‘Zara.’ My voice remains calm but my body is shaking. ‘If you don’t open this fucking door I am going to smash it down. You have to the count of five before I start kicking.’ Despite the throb in my foot I mean every word. ‘Come on, Zara. I just want to talk to you.’

  ‘You sound angry. I don’t like it when people are angry.’ Again, I can’t help thinking she sounds like a kid and not the adult she is.

  ‘I’m not angry.’ I take a deep breath through my nose. ‘But I need you to let me come in.’

  On the other side of the door I hear movement. What is she up to in there? Then, to my amazement the door opens a crack. I have to control myself not to go bursting in but I remind myself I don’t know what she’s been through while I was shut in that room.

  ‘There we go,’ I encourage, ‘not that difficult. Now, I’m going to come in, okay?’

  I hear her scurry away and push on the door. Never could I have ever been prepared for the sight in the room.

  On the floor, spread out, is Susie. She has been stripped naked and the skin from her body has been ripped away. The smell of the blood is all around. In a corner, Zara sits hugging her knees to her chest while she rocks on the spot humming a tune to herself.

  ‘What the fuck happened?’ I notice a splatter of blood across her cheek and all over her hands. She doesn’t respond and keeps on humming.

  I look around the room, still in shock. It is a bloodbath.

  ‘Zara?’ I choke, putting my hand over my mouth and falling to my knees with a thud.

  Zara gets up and I see her clothes are soaked with blood. In her hand is a knife. She walks over to Susie as if she is strolling through a park and starts to hack away at her face.

  Horrified, I can do nothing except watch while Zara sets to work butchering the body like it is a piece of meat. Still she is humming and I realise I know the song.

  Unable to carry on sitting there, I manage to get up and stand. Taking clumsy steps towards Zara, I beg her to stop but it is like she can’t hear me. She is in her own terrifying little world.

  I try not to look at the mess that was once Susie, but I can’t tear my eyes away. The closer I get I realise there is something odd about Susie’s face. It looks strange and unlike her. Then I realise that it has pen marks all over it. Zara had been drawing on her. There are thick lines around her eyes and I can see that her hair has been hacked at. Clumps of hair have been cut away and her pale skull is showing through the bald patches.

  ‘Why, Zara? Why did you do it? What is wrong with you?’

  She turns to me and smiles and I see there is blood on her teeth.

  ‘Have you been biting her?’ The idea of it makes me feel sick.

  ‘Do you like my picture?’ She puts her head to one side and admires her work.

  ‘You’re mad. You’re fucking sick!’

  ‘Pretty bird.’ Zara puts the knife down and picks up Susie’s lifeless foot, which she holds against her bloody cheek while rubbing her face against it. Then the humming starts again.

  I can’t take this anymore. This nightmare has gone on long enough. Without thinking I slide the knife away from her. She doesn’t seem to notice. She is too locked inside her own mad head.

  Looking down at the horrific scene it dawns on me that Zara is the one who has killed them all. How she managed it I don’t know, but I know for certain that it was her doing. Pity and disgust mingle and I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. This sad, mental woman has been the cause of all these deaths. Her madness has killed innocent people and now only she and I remain.

  My eyes wander around the room and I remember we aren’t ge
tting off this thing. I’m trapped with a deranged killer and I remember how it all began, how we all came together to create something that was meant to be good. How did it all go so wrong? But then I realise that the moment the sub sunk we were all doomed. None of us were ever going to escape with our lives intact, which makes what she has done even more pointless.

  I look at the corpse lying spread out on the floor. Poor Susie.

  I can’t stay in this room anymore. I need to get out. I can’t breathe and I stumble away from the scene of the massacre.

  Zara turns her head slowly, like a doll, and watches as I back away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Her voice is higher than normal and she sounds so innocent.

  ‘I erm, have to go for a piss.’ I have to get away from this woman. ‘I need the bog.’ I will say anything to get away.

  ‘You should stay with us, Luke.’ She gets up, still covered in Susie’s blood, and begins walking towards me. There is a vacant look in her eyes that scares me to my core.

  ‘Stay there, Zara. Don’t come any closer.’

  She’s not listening and continues to take slow steps. I have two choices. I either try and run or deal with this face on. But there is nowhere to run. There is no exit.

  Lying on a table is a large metal torch. Without thinking I pick it up.

  ‘I’m warning you, Zara. Stay back.’ But like a zombie she floats closer and closer.

  Closing my eyes I hold the torch up and swing it against her head, which makes a cracking sound before popping like a watermelon. I can’t look at her twitching body on the floor. I leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

  There is nowhere for me to go so I walk aimlessly through the sub towards the control room. It is one of the few places left that isn’t stained with blood. Stepping over Sam and Frank’s bodies I try to ignore the rank smell that hangs in the air.