Silence. That was my answer. Ben continued down the corridor, stopping outside some double doors. There was a sign swinging from a hook which read Canteen.
“This is where I say goodbye.” He turned to face me. “You need to go through the canteen and the kitchen. There’s a door that leads out into a hallway. Turn left. Don’t take the door on the right. When you get to the end of the hall you’ll see the old fire exit – remember to head for the chapel – wait inside until the night shift changes over.”
“What about my clothes? Where am I gonna find a uniform?” I asked.
“There must be an old one lying about somewhere,” he said. “You could try searching the lockers in the staff room – it’s next to the kitchen.”
I nodded my head. After everything I had seen in this place – everything that had happened to me – you would think I couldn’t wait to escape, but going outside, back into the real world scared the shit out of me. What was I going to do? What was going to happen to me? How would I cover up these black veins twisting around my body?
“Kassidy, be careful when you get out. Don’t trust anyone. There are so many people living in Holly Tree who work here. No one is safe to trust,” he whispered, taking hold of my hand.
“What should I do?” I asked, the feel of his hand comforted me – made me feel safe.
“That’s up to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t help you anymore. If you want answers you could try finding Doctor Langstone. He might help you or he might not. Cruor Pharma’s sister company is based in Monsal Head, Derbyshire, but Doctor Middleton still has contact with some of the scientists up there. You can’t just go strolling in. You need to be careful.”
“Why have you helped me?” I asked, staring into his eyes, hoping he would answer me.
“If Doctor Middleton gets hold of you, he’ll ruin you,” Ben whispered. “You didn’t end up like Wendy or Howard and you might think that’s good, and it is in a way, but if you end up like Carly you’ll be lost forever – tortured. I helped you because I know how it feels to live a life of suffering – living like a puppet – your life is no longer your own – your movements, your voice, all controlled by unseen puppet strings.”
Ben turned away, lost in his thoughts. I had no idea what he was going on about. Too much had happened to even think straight. My head felt ready to crack open – full to bursting – exhaustion clutching at my body – dragging me down – pulling on my limbs. My eyes burnt – lids heavy.
“Maybe it’s too late to help me,” I whispered, glancing down at the black veins. “Maybe you should have helped me sooner – like not sticking that freaking needle into me.” I walked over to a window and grasped the iron bars. The sky was calm now, no more rain fell and the wind had dropped. The storm had moved on – soon the night would do the same.
“It’s not too late for you, Kassidy, you just need to get away from here,” Ben said, turning me around to face him. “I’m sorry I did this to you, I can’t control myself sometimes. You have no idea what it’s like to be manipulated – dominated against your will.”
Ben’s eyes clouded over again. He stared deeply – like he was trying to see behind my eyes – into my soul. I stepped away – unsure of him – his strange mood swings made me wary – he was unpredictable.
“If you’re really sorry, then tell me what VA20 is,” I said, hoping the question wouldn’t enrage him again.
“It’s a real mixture of things – I can’t tell you,” he sniggered. That look of evil darkening his face again – a menacing presence shadowing over me.
“What are you?” I whispered, looking over my shoulder – seeking an escape.
“I’m evil…” He laughed. Ben shook his head like he was trying to rid himself of something. “I’m not safe to be around, Kassidy. Go now before I can’t stop myself.”
I looked at the canteen door then back at Ben. Was he really going to let me go? His eyes had cleared again – that crystal-blue gaze lingered over me. He smiled but this time it was genuine, not evil. I stepped toward the canteen door – my outstretched arm hesitating.
“Why don’t you come with me, get away from here – find help?” I asked. There was something about Ben that made me want to help him, something hidden deep beneath his tanned skin and crystal-blue eyes. There was another part of me that wanted him to go with me for my own selfish reasons – he was after all the only person who had the answers to what was happening inside of me – the only one who had done something to help me. I knew I shouldn’t trust him, but I wanted to.
“Be careful what you say to me. Don’t invite me to go anywhere with you – I might just latch on to you and then you’ll regret it,” hissed Ben. “There is no helping me, and if they get their hands on you – if I get my hands on you – then you’ll be the one screaming for help. Now get the fuck out of my sight before I take you.”
“Okay, I’m going,” I whispered. My hands pushed open the canteen doors, I turned to look back one last time at Ben, but he’d already gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The canteen doors swung shut. I found myself inside a large hall. The high ceiling was lined with broken windows – vines hung from shards of glass like thick lengths of rope. Dripping water splashed onto the old rotting lino-covered floor. I hugged my arms tight around me, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings. There were five long rows of tables that stretched all the way down to the end of the hall. Chairs were pushed in under them – some kicked over amongst the rubble. I walked slowly down between the tables, my feet scattering broken plates and cutlery – echoing through the room. I gripped the key that Ben had given to me. It gave me hope – my escape out of this hell-hole. My thoughts returned to Ben. He was one big mystery – a puzzle. But then again, my feelings toward him were nothing but a mystery. I should hate him – loathe him for what he’d done to me, but I didn’t. I should be scared of him but I wasn’t – well, maybe a little. I was confused. This place had really messed with my head. A bird squawking above me made me jump. I fell sideways into one of the tables sending its rotten cutlery sprawling over the edge, falling to the floor. The sound of breaking plates and metal jugs hitting the ground echoed around the room causing more birds to flutter about above me.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. With all that noise I wouldn’t be surprised to see Doctor Middleton or the Cleaners appear. I stood still – straining my ears – waiting to hear footsteps coming. Nothing. Just the sound of dripping water and wings flapping. I tiptoed on through the mess – little jumps over piles of clutter and filth like I was jumping on stepping stones. There was a gap in one of the rows of tables and I squeezed through. An old vending machine up against the wall caught my eye. I looked through the glass panel. It still had chocolate bars and crisps stocked in it – packets of Treets and Spangles, KP Discos, and Space Raiders. My stomach rumbled. I needed food. I needed sleep. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass panel. Dried blood stained the side of my neck where Carly had bitten me. My face looked a mess – my eyes smeared black with mascara. My appearance made me think of Carly. What had they done to her? She had looked like Carly but she acted like someone else – like someone had taken her over. The things she had said about my dad crushed me. How had she known such personal things about him? And my mum – was it true what Carly had said? All I knew about my mum was that she had died when I was two years old. My dad had never wanted to talk about my mum. I didn’t even know where she was buried. I had never even seen one photo of her. I carried on through the hall, pushing thoughts of my dad and mum from my mind. Old posters and photos fluttered against the walls – a cold breeze drifted down from the broken windows above me. I looked back toward the canteen doors. I had made it halfway through the hall. Where was the door that led into the kitchen? On the other side of the room I could see a large hatch. It was shut. My eyes drifted along the wall until they reached a door right at the end of the room – the kitchen. Clambering over some chairs, I headed across t
he hall. I stopped. Something made me hesitate. A feeling – a sense that something was coming. I wasn’t going to ignore those inner feelings anymore. I had made that mistake too many times already. Getting onto my hands and knees, I crawled under a table. I waited – my heart beating fast. The atmosphere darkened. I looked toward the canteen doors then back at my escape route through the door into the kitchen. It was too far to get to without being seen by whatever was coming. I could feel myself trembling. What was I going have to face this time? The Cleaners? Doctor Middleton? Carly? Ben had said there were others like Carly wandering around this place – I didn’t know what was worse. I screwed my eyes shut, willing whatever it was to pass by the canteen and leave me alone. I opened one eye and looked at the canteen doors.
“Please don’t come in here,” I whispered. “Please don’t find me.”
The doors wavered slightly. I swallowed back a gasp threatening to erupt from my throat. A cold, menacing breeze filled the hall. Dark shadowy shapes seemed to push through the canteen doors. I knew at once what they were – the Cleaners. They stood still – listening, watching, waiting for a noise or movement. The silence filled me with dread. I knew I had to keep perfectly still. One tiny movement would create so much noise with all the cutlery and plates all over the floor. My left knee was resting on top of a fork, and if I moved they would hear it. I had managed to stay hidden from them earlier so maybe if I just kept still they would move on to the next room. Their shadowy shapes had taken on a more solid form now and I could see their long, plastic aprons and gloves. Their faces were still hidden behind black surgical masks. They moved forwards slowly – the creak of their aprons echoing around the hall. They stopped at the first row of tables. One of them suddenly crouched down and peered under. Another cleaner drifted over to the second row and got down on his hands and knees and crawled under, pushing his way through the chairs and clutter. The scraping of metal filled the hall and sent birds flapping and squawking around the broken windows in the ceiling. I was under the fourth row of tables. I looked to my left. There was only one more row between me and the door to the kitchen. But even if I managed to get under the last line of tables I would still have to break cover and make a run for the door. I was only halfway down the hall, and although it wasn’t much of a distance to reach the door, it was still too far a gap to outrun the Cleaners. I faced front. A cleaner had moved over to the third row. The tables in front of him suddenly lifted up by unseen hands and were thrown across the hall smashing into the walls. I flinched at the deafening noise, panic rushing through me like a tidal wave. Tears welled up in my eyes. Was this it? Was this my end? My row of tables was next. My body shook with fear as I saw two boots appear ahead of me. Any minute now and the cleaner would be looking under or throwing the tables aside. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. But fear kept me rooted firmly under the tables. Just as I expected to see the cleaner’s masked face peering at me, its boots lifted up and disappeared. I swallowed back my tears. It was walking along the tables. I could hear its footsteps coming nearer. The tables groaned and shook. I couldn’t see it but I knew the cleaner was only a short distance away. I gasped as I saw its long gloved arm swiping around – seeking me out – stretching under the table. The arm disappeared again. I looked up through the tiny gap between the table I was crouched under and the table in front of me. I waited – breath held tight like I was underwater. The table in front wobbled. A dark shadow fell over the gap. The cleaner was almost over me. I felt myself sway – still trying to balance on all fours – knee still resting on the fork. The hall had fallen silent. Did they know I was under here? Were they trying to sweat me out – see if I made a run for it? A black gloved hand suddenly snatched down beside me – grasping at air. I leant over to my left, trying to avoid its grip. Its creaking fingers clenching – searching – just inches from my face. The hand swiped about like it was trying to catch a fly. It caught hold of my hair and yanked some strands out, almost pulling me off balance. I watched as the hand disappeared above me, blonde wisps of my hair still caught in its grasp. The cleaner knew I was under here – he must know. He would have felt the tug of hair caught between his fingers as it yanked the strands free from my scalp. I waited, my body tense. Short, sharp breaths escaping my lips. The wait was agony. What was his next move? As if in answer, blonde wisps of my hair floated down from above the table, landing beside me amongst the dirt and clutter on the floor. I looked to my left – searching for the easiest route toward the kitchen door. I couldn’t go under the fifth row of tables, there was too much blocking my way. I would just get caught up among the broken chairs and rubbish. I would have to go over the fifth row and run for my life. Should I go now? Should I wait and see which direction the cleaner would attack from? Looking forwards I could see five sets of boots standing at the end of the row I was hiding under. It was like a game of cat and mouse. I screamed as the cleaner’s face suddenly appeared to my left. It was leaning over from the top of the table – face upside down – raspy breaths seeping through its mask. Its eyes were black – intimidating. Its shadowy form not quiet solid, almost like a cloudy, transparent black mass. It stretched out its arm snapping at my wrist. I grabbed a broken chair leg and smashed it down over the cleaner’s arm. It seemed to fall through its body like I had thrown it through thin air. I scampered out from under the table – key gripped tight in my hand and hurled myself across the last row of tables scattering plates and cups with me. I landed on my feet and ran for the kitchen door. I didn’t look back. I was too scared. Splinters of broken glass stabbed at my feet as I ran across the hall – tripping and sliding over the mess. Reaching the door I grabbed for the handle. Yanking it down I prayed that it wasn’t locked. It opened. As I turned to slam the door shut behind me, I saw the Cleaners walking toward me. I pulled the door shut, and spotting a bolt at the top I slid it across. I knew that wouldn’t stop them from getting in but it might give me a few seconds start to find somewhere to hide. I backed away from the door, knowing that their shadowy forms would soon start to filter through. Turning around I found myself standing between stainless steel kitchen worktops. Saucepans and cooking utensils hung from hooks covered in thick cobwebs. I ran through the kitchen looking for somewhere to hide. There were only small cupboards with doors hanging off them and a large freezer which wouldn’t open. I looked back at the door half expecting to see the Cleaners appearing, but it was clear. As I raced through the kitchen I noticed fresh footprints clearly marked on the dirty tiles. They went in the direction of the door at the far end of the kitchen. Whomever they belonged to had been through here recently. I stopped in the middle of the room – hesitating – not sure if I should hide or go the way the footprints went. I didn’t want to run into anyone else. That dark, menacing feeling seemed to be creeping into the kitchen and I looked over at the bolted door. Relieved that I couldn’t see the Cleaners, I turned away but something caught my eye. The hatch that I had noticed in the canteen seemed to be darkening. The Cleaners were coming through. A dark, hazy cloud started to form into six shapes. I panicked. Grabbing hold of a large, dusty ladle and knife, I held them up in front of me, ready to hit out. The ladle slipped to the right, falling over the knife – forming what looked like a cross. The Cleaners’ dark shapes shuddered and shrank, disappearing back through the hatch. What did I do? Dropping the knife and ladle, I turned and raced past the kitchen worktops and threw open the door into a hallway. I went left – remembering Ben’s directions, but stopped abruptly when I heard whispering voices at the end of the hall. In a panic, I turned around and ran the other way. The hallway curved round to the right and then split into two directions. A large, heavy door swayed on creaky hinges. I pushed through it. I needed to get out of the hallway before the Cleaners came back. There seemed little point in running deeper into the hospital only to get lost by myself, and besides, I was so close now to the door which Ben had directed me to – the door which would get me out of this hell-hole.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Think of something nice,” I whispered, straining my memory for happy times, but no matter how hard I tried, all I could see was death in the most repulsive ways. I looked down at the rusty key still gripped tightly in my hand. I would wait another ten minutes before attempting to reach the door to the outside – just to be sure that the hallway was clear of Cleaners and the whispering voices. I picked up some of the yellowed paperwork scattered about me. The writing had long since faded away. I dropped it back on the floor and stood up. I walked over to the desk, knocking a half burned candle over. Placing the key down and pulling open the drawers, I hoped to find something that could help me get past the security guards at the gate. An I.D. badge would be good, but I wasn’t that lucky. The drawers contained nothing more than pens, matches, and paperwork. As I closed the drawer, my eyes fell upon the metal door at the end of the room. I cautiously stepped toward it, gripping the large handle. Maybe I would find something in there. A box of old latex gloves were fixed to the wall beside the door. Pressing my ear to the cold metal, I listened. There was no sound coming from the other side. I yanked down hard on the handle and pushed the door open. The smell hit me like a slap to the face and I gagged. Covering my nose and mouth with my hand, I peered into the room. There was barely any light and I strained to see what was inside. The floor felt cold against my bare feet. I pushed the door fully open and stepped in. I fumbled around for a light switch but couldn’t find one. Probably wouldn’t work anyway, I thought. I walked back into the office and removed the matches from the desk drawer. Picking up the candle and standing it up on the desk I lit a match. The candle flickered a small, warm glow and I carried it back through the metal door. The light wasn’t enough for me to see the back half of the room so I slowly tiptoed in. Holding the candle up in one hand and covering my nose with the other, I noticed a small sink in the corner of the room. It looked more like a toilet being so short and low down to the ground. The floor and walls were tiled and lined with metal cabinets. Taking my hand away from my nose I pulled one open and found what looked like surgical instruments scattered over the shelves – knives, scissors, and large tweezers all rusted and worn. This must have been some kind of treatment room or operating theatre, I thought. Checking back over my shoulder to make sure I was still alone, I continued through the room. Hanging from a hook were some aprons and I fumbled through them, hoping I might find something else to wear other than this blood-stained hospital gown I had on. My heart leapt with excitement as I came across a black jacket tucked behind the aprons. Placing the candle on the floor, I pulled the jacket from off the hook. I could wear this over the gown. At least it would cover up the dried blood and might just look like I was wearing a dress under the jacket. Not everyone left work in their uniforms. All I needed now was a pair of shoes and some I.D. I pulled the jacket on. It was a little big but I didn’t care. I felt glad to have another layer of clothing on – less vulnerable. As I bent down to pick up the candle, I froze. The flickering light illuminated a fresh, wet, red smear across the floor tiles heading toward the back of the room. The realisation that someone had been in here recently sent chills through me. I stood up slowly. Holding the candle out in front of me, my eyes followed the red smear until it stopped and turned into more of a congealed puddle under a long metal tray on wheels. It was pushed up against the back wall. A blood-soaked sheet lay covering something on top of it. Then noticing the back wall, I took in a sharp breath. It was lined with small metal doors. Some were open with trays hanging out. I was in a morgue. Looking back down at the blood-soaked sheet my heart thumped uncontrollably. The sheet twitched. I backed away. My foot slipped in the wet smear and I toppled over, dropping the candle. A deep moan from the back of the room sent fear racing through me. Snatching up the candle I tried to get back on my feet. A hand shot out from under the sheet frantically grabbing with its fingers. It snatched at its cover and pulled the bloodied material from off its face.
Drug Page 9
