They walked the long corridor following George’s direction past more rows of shelving, until they reached a dead end. Violet and Boy heard a door bang when George left, but they were now facing a stone wall. Boy ran at it and had to bite his tongue not to cry out in pain when he slammed into the solid structure.
“Well that was a bit stupid,” Violet laughed.
“Any better ideas?” Boy snapped, cradling his shoulder.
“I bet it’s like the hidden doorways in the Archers shop. I had to run my hands…hold on.”
Her fingers slipped across a loose stone. She pulled on the brick and the top half popped out from the wall like a door handle. Violet glanced at Boy, smiled, turned the stone and pushed. The wall gave way to another hall beyond. Quickly the two passed through gently closing the door behind them.
The hallway was circular and lined in stone, the same sort that the door was made from; solid squares of rock like it was part of a castle. This hallway was very small, more like a landing and to the left of it was a set of steps that spiralled downwards. The space was lit by a mounted torch, the flickering flame warmed the cold stone. Quickly Boy grabbed the torch from its perch and began to descend the stairs.
“We can only go down,” he whispered.
Violet nodded, her bravery was being tested.
“I feel like we’re in a computer game,” she said, following close behind.
“What’s that?”
“You know a computer game. You must have played at least one before you came to Perfect?”
Boy fell silent, just like he’d done before when Violet mentioned his lack of parents. What had she said wrong this time? How could talking about computer games upset anyone?
“Your parents weren’t killed by a computer game or anything were they? I heard once before from a girl in school that that had happened to a friend of hers. I’m really sorry Boy, I didn’t know.”
“No,” Boy snapped, “I don’t know what a computer game is.”
“Oh is that all, well you’ve spent way too long in Perfect,” Violet laughed relieved.
“I never lived in Perfect,” Boy whispered, so faintly Violet barely heard him.
“But how did you get to No Man’s Land then?”
“I don’t know. I was born there I think. I don’t ever remember anywhere else.”
“Oh!”
What could she say? She didn’t want her shock to be obvious but all words disappeared from her brain. They continued the descent without talking, the steps seeming to spiral forever.
“We’ll be in the centre of the world soon,” she said, to break the silence.
Suddenly Boy jumped back pushing her up against the cold stone. He brought the flame round to his face and put his finger to his lips silencing her protest. He pointed down the stairwell. A chilling cry reached up from below. Someone was in pain, not just ordinary pain, terrifyingly painful pain.
“I promise, I’ll get her next time Sir,” someone whimpered.
“You better or you know where I’ll be sending you,” George Archer hissed, “There’s too many going to No Man’s Land, until Brown fixes our problem I don’t want anymore disappearing.”
“I understand Sir, it’s just this Violet’s a hard’ne to crack. I’m doin the same that I do t’all the rest but I think she’s got too much.”
“I don’t care how much she has, just figure it out! I WANT NO MORE DISAPPEARING!!”
“I understand Mr. Archer Sir,” the voice trembled, “I’ll do me best.”
“YOU’LL DO YOUR JOB!”
Footsteps pounded across the floor below. Then, after a few moments of silence, laughter erupted.
“I’ll do me best Mr. Archer Sir!” a different voice snorted.
“Well what was I meant to say?”
“I love you Mr. Archer Sir,” someone else sniggered.
Boy whispered to Violet to stay put. Then he quenched the flame with his foot and followed the stairwell down. Violet stood in the darkness. She fought the urge to run listening to the voices squabble below. What did the Archers want her Dad to fix?
“There’s three of them. Watchers,” Boy whispered, rejoining her side, “I think they are getting ready to sleep off their night’s work. I figure give them another little while and they’ll be out for the count. Then we can move on.”
“What about George Archer? Is he still there?”
“No. I didn’t see him. There’s a few passages leading off the Watchers room. I’d say he went down one of them.”
Violet shivered as she sat on the step to wait. She couldn’t shut off her imagination, her head swam in terrifying images of what might happen. Sometimes her imagination was her worst enemy but other times it was her best asset, at least that’s what her Mam told her. She couldn’t think about her Mam. She needed to be strong, not just because she had to rescue her Dad but she had to rescue her Mam too. Boy shifted uncomfortably next to her and she sought out his hand on the cold stone floor. She slipped her fingers through his and felt safe.
“You know,” she whispered, “my parents can be yours too.”
There was nothing for a minute. Had she upset him again? Then he squeezed her hand.
CHAPTER 17
Deadly Cold
“Come on,” Boy whispered, after an eternity in the dark, “I think they’ve gone asleep.”
Violet got up and, keeping her left hand against the wall, tiptoed after Boy. As they neared the bottom, light trickled up from a doorway below. Violet held her breath; any sound could wake the sleeping Watchers. Boy, a little ahead, entered the room. She followed suit though every sinew told her to run. She would show Boy she wasn’t a girly girl.
The room was large and cold. About twenty rope hammocks dotted the cavernous space hanging from hooks in the stone ceiling. Most were empty except for three, which were occupied by sleeping Watchers oblivious to their intruders. Violet passed a heap of upturned wooden crates in the middle of the room where a card game was laid out ready to play. The place was really messy, lots of large black shirts, enormous black trousers and giant leather boots created obstacles in the middle of the floor. It was definitely a boy’s room. Violet held her nose to block out the sweaty stench and picked her way past.
“Down here,” Boy whispered, ducking into a passageway.
Though it was dark Boy didn’t dare light the torch still held in his grasp, so they moved quickly along keeping close to the wall. They had been travelling a while when they reached a crossroads.
“Which way?” Violet whispered.
“I don’t know. Does either of them give you a feeling?”
“What do you mean a feeling?”
“I don’t know, like do you think your Dad might be at the bottom of one of them?”
Violet walked to the entrance of the first passage. She stood for a minute, walked down a little then turned and came back. Shrugging she walked to the next entrance.
This time a chill slithered up her spine and grabbed the air from her throat. Arctic winds wrapped her like snake would it’s prey, and howled round the space. It was like all her blood had frozen as if she was dead. Terrified she sprinted back to where Boy stood waiting.
“This one,” she stuttered, pointing to the first passage, “not the other one. Definitely not the other one.”
Boy smiled at her odd behaviour as he followed her down the first passage. They’d been walking for a while when voices reached them from a little ahead. A group of men were approaching from the other direction. The pair frantically searched for a hiding space. The walls were solid. There was nowhere to go. The voices were getting closer, Violet tried not to panic. Thinking quickly Boy grabbed her arm and raced back the way they had come.
“Hey you’s!” a voice roared from behind.
Violet’s legs turned to lead, her heart was racing but she wasn’t moving fast enough. Her pursuer pounded the stones just a few paces behind. With each step he was closer. Suddenly someone grabbed her top, yanking her bac
kwards. She squealed. Boy turned and sprinted towards her, the torch held high. A sharp cry filled the air as he brought the wooden object down heavily on her attacker. Her legs reawakened. Grabbing Boy’s hand again they flew back through the passageway. Now the rest of the gang joined the chase and had almost caught up to them when the pair broke onto the crossroads and ducked down the second entrance. Their attackers came to an abrupt stop. Violet looked around unsure she believed her ears.
Three Watchers stood laughing at the top of the tunnel. They remained there mocking for a minute then turned and disappeared. Violet pulled sharply on Boy’s hold.
“They’ve gone Boy. They’ve stopped,” she panted.
“You sure?” he replied running back a little to check.
“I saw them. They stopped when we turned down here. There’s something about this place…” she trailed off wrapping her arms tight across her chest to combat the sudden cold.
“We’ve no choice,” Boy said, “We have to go on. We can’t go back. They’ve seen us now.”
Violet nodded and followed his lead. The path became extremely dark. She moved closer to her friend. A mist seeped into the tunnel filling the stone space. It’s icy tongue licked Violet’s skin. She searched out Boy’s hand in the darkness. He was shivering.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He didn’t respond.
“Boy please you’re frightening me. Where are we?”
“Do you hear them?” his voice was weak.
“Who?”
Violet moved closer wrapping herself round the top of his arm. Someone was watching them. She looked behind but could see nothing in the thick black.
“Do you hear the voices Violet?”
Boy sounded desperate, urgent.
"What voices? It’s just the wind. Please Boy you’re scaring me.”
“They’re crying. I think they’re crying Violet.”
“Who’s crying? Please Boy stop it!”
There was a rustle behind her. Violet panicked. Letting go of Boys arm, she sprinted for the light that trickled into the tunnel ahead. Within moments she broke out into open space and collapsed at the waist to catch her breath. Something creaked loudly and she sprung upright. An old iron gate rose from the mist in front of her. Hanging loosely on it’s hinges it swung in the wind.
“See Boy,” she said, jumping up and down, “that’s what you heard, an old gate!”
He didn’t respond, his face was as white as her mother’s starched sheets. He was scaring Violet so to steady her beating heart she ignored him and looked around. The gates hung from two crumbling stone pillars covered in moss and ivy that were part of a surrounding wall. The wall reached to Violet’s chin and she had to hoist herself up on her arms to peer over it. Tall stone structures floated in the mist beyond. The gates creaked loudly again pulling Violet’s attention.
“No please stop Boy! Don’t…it’s a graveyard” she stuttered, jumping down from the wall.
He kept walking and had almost disappeared into the fog before Violet followed him. She had no choice. Slowly she pushed open the gate, her heart pounding. A path led through the middle of the graves. It was overgrown in weeds, and to distract her imagination she counted them as she walked past the gravestones.
“1 dandelion, 2 daisies, 2 dandelions…Ouch”
Something sharp ripped through the skin on her forearm. She looked up suddenly and screamed. A dismembered hand sat impaled on a wooden stake. The skin was purpley blue and green pus poured from the maggot-made wounds. A roughly scrawled sign was nailed to the stake below.
KEEP OUT IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU!
“Please Boy. Please can we leave!” she cried into the fog.
Her fear raised Boy from his trance and he raced back to her side.
“Violet, are you okay? What’s wrong?” he panted.
She pointed to the sign just as a shadow moved out from behind a tombstone ahead. Boy grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly down onto the soggy grass, using a stone cross as cover.
“Stay here,” he mouthed silently.
She nodded, her voice stolen. Just as Boy was moving she grabbed his sleeve pulling him back.
“I have to check it out,” he shivered, shaking her off, “I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.”
He was gone. She was alone.
‘Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.’
Something brushed off her shoulder. She jumped back suddenly and stumbled to the side before losing her balance. A hand reached up to break her fall and she grabbed for it in the darkness.
“Oh Boy. You scared me,” she gasped, turning around.
Hollow eye sockets stared at her from a mutilated skull.
She screamed and darted forwards. Tripping over something she fell into a sea of maggot-ridden bodies. Bones cracked breaking under her weight as she crawled across the masses of dead people. Finding solid ground, she sprinted for the wall that surrounded the graveyard and scrambled over the top into mossy grass on the other side.
A blinking streetlamp yellowed the mist and she stumbled across the balding lawn towards it. As she got closer her fear subsided and her thoughts shifted into a world of problems. Images of rotten skin, maggots and bone flew from consciousness and she became clouded in worry. What if her Mam didn’t love her anymore? Maybe it had nothing to do with Perfect, maybe her mother hated her. What if her Dad disappeared on purpose, maybe he had another family or maybe he didn’t love her either and that’s why he left? She blamed the Archers for everything when really it was her own fault. Her heart sank, pulling heavily on her chest and before she realised it she was on her knees. Every bad thought imaginable ate away at her mind until her life felt bleak and she couldn’t see an escape.
She looked around for Boy. The mist had thickened. She couldn’t see him. He’d left too or maybe he’d been attacked in the graveyard and his half eaten body lay with the others. Everyone that meant anything had gone. They’d abandoned her. Pulling her knees towards her, she wrapped her arms around her legs, shielding herself from the outside. Soon the mist cocooned her from the world. She cried. For her Mam and Dad, for the friends she’d lost, for Boy and his lack of parents. She cried for all the things she had ever heard about in school, like the floods in Pakistan, the starving children in Africa and she cried for herself. This was how Boy found her.
“Violet,” he panted, sitting down beside her, “I was looking for you.”
She didn’t look up. She was angry with him and definitely didn’t want him to see her crying.
“Where were you?” she stammered, “You left me.”
“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “I didn’t leave you. I went to see what the noise was. I thought it was George Archer.”
“But you left me, with…those bodies.”
“I’m sorry Violet. I didn’t know. If I’d known I’d never…” he trailed off.
“Who are they…who did this?” she quivered, rocking back and forth beneath the street lamp.
“I…I don’t know Violet.”
The pair sat shoulder to shoulder in silence. The mist grew thicker and a distant rumble of thunder filled the skies.
“Violet,” Boy whispered a while later, “Please look at me.”
“I know,” he said, wiping his red eyes, “It’s this place. It brings out every bad thing you’ve ever thought. I heard about it before but I never believed the stories.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, standing up to pull his friend gently from the soggy grass.
They walked together through the mist. Soon large trees loomed out from the fog dotted round a small park. Like winter trees, they had no leaves. Their barren branches clawed against the stormy sky. The park was filled with clay, the only green from grass tuffs that hung round the base of the trees. About twenty rows of strange plants lined the clay from one end of the park to the other. The heads of these odd flowers were bent over as if sheltering from a
driving rain so it was hard to recognise them. They were about the same shape and height as sunflowers but something so happy didn’t fit in this landscape.
Derelict houses hovered lonely and grey in the mist just off a potholed road that surrounded the park. Some of the homes had no windows, others no doors and more still were half built.The wind whistled through the empty shells rattling the steel fencing that lined the roadway.
“It’s the Ghost Estate,” Boy whispered.
CHAPTER 18
The Ghost Estate
“Ghosts?”
“That’s what they say. I heard some men in No Man’s Land talk about this place but I thought it was just another story. It’s exactly how they described it.”
“What is it?” Violet asked.
“I don’t really know. I heard them say it’s a place of loss and sadness. They said it’s where all lonely souls go.”
“Go to do what?”
Thunder boomed overhead making Violet jump.
“Can we leave Boy please?” she begged, pulling on his sleeve.
Boy led the way quickly across the park. A sudden movement caught Violet’s eye and she stopped.
“Boy look,” she shivered, pointing at one of the flowers.
It’s petals were closed as if it were asleep. Each petal was delicate, translucent and tiny thread like red veins patterned their surface. She could see right through the petals to the centre of the flower. Something was moving at rapid speed inside. She bent down to investigate when a huge clatter echoed through the empty estate. Boy grabbed her arm and they ran for cover behind the garden wall attached to one of the empty houses.
“I think it’s just the steel fencing. The wind must have blown it over,” Boy panted, after a few minutes, “Come on let’s get out of here.”
Violet was about to move when she ducked back down behind the wall pulling Boy with her.
“There’s something inside the house” she whispered, “Something moved I swear.”
A Place Called Perfect Page 7
