15 THE SOLAR SYSTEM
15
THE SOLAR SYSTEM
– BELLA –
I bang the door with my fist so hard that the skin on my knuckles splits . ‘ Sam? Sam! ’
I try the door handle, but it doesn ’ t turn . It ’ s locked .
‘ Sam! ’ I yell again, but the smoke catches in my throat, making me splutter . I fumble in my pockets for the key card .
It ’ s not there . Oh, shit .
I hear footsteps and turn to see a man sprinting towards me down the corridor .
‘ Stop! ’ I shout . ‘ Please! Help me! ’
He runs straight past me . ‘ You need to get out of here! ’ he shouts over his shoulder . ‘ Now! ’
‘ But my brother— ’
‘ It ’ s coming from the lift shaft! ’ I watch him disappear round the corner, in the direction of the staircase . I hear the crackle of flames from where he came .
‘ Sam! ’
No answer . Shit .
I take out my phone, hands trembling . Dial 997 . Fuck . No . 999 . I hold it to my ear . It rings once, then clicks .
‘ Emergency . Which service do you require? ’
‘ All of them! I need all of them— ’
‘ Slow down, miss .’
‘ I need help! I ’ m on the fifth floor of the Jasmine Hotel . Room 512— ’
‘ Destination? ’
‘ I just said— ’
‘ Which city are you nearest to, miss? ’
‘ Birmingham! I ’ m in Birmingham! ’ I bang the door again . ‘ Sam! Please, Sam! ’
‘ Miss, you need to calm down . Is someone in danger? ’
‘ My brother . He ’ s locked inside the hotel room . There ’ s a fire— ’
‘ Do you have keys? ’
‘ You think I ’ d be stood out here if I had keys? ’ I don ’ t recognise my own voice . The smoke is getting hotter . Heavier . ‘ Sam! ’
My fist feels like pulp . Tears cool on my cheeks .
‘ How old is he? ’
‘ He ’ s twelve . He ’ s fucking twelve! ’ Oh my God, oh my God . ‘ Sam! ’
‘ Calm down, miss .’
‘ Don ’ t tell me to calm down! He ’ s going to die if I don ’ t open this fucking door! ’
‘ I can see that the fire brigade, ambulance and police have already been dispatched to your location . Now listen to me carefully . You need to ensure your own safety .’
‘ No, I need someone to help me get him out! ’
‘ You need to leave immediately .’
‘ No! ’
‘ Now, miss— ’
I drop the phone . It hits the floor, still connected . ‘ Sam, I ’ m coming in .’
How? How?
I take a few steps back, until I ’ m against the corridor wall . I hear the growing roar of flames to my left .
I lurch forwards and throw myself at the door . Again and again and again . Over and over and over .
Screaming his name . ‘ Sam! Sam! Sam! ’
The smoke chokes me . It ’ s hard to breathe now .
I keep going until I hear a splitting sound as the wood begins to crack around the lock .
I pummel my whole weight into it . ‘ Argh! Fucking – open! ’
Suddenly, I ’ m inside .
I can hardly breathe . ‘ Sam! Where are you? ’ I run into the bedroom – empty . Check under the bed . Not here .
‘ Sam! ’
In the wardrobe .
No .
‘ Where are you, Sam? ’
I bolt to the bathroom . Open the door .
There he is . Flat on his back in the bath with his fingers in his ears .
‘ Sam! ’ His eyes are black with terror . ‘ We need to go! Now! ’
He ’ s frozen in shock .
I grab his arms and pull, but he ’ s a dead weight . I sob into his hair .
‘ Please, Sam . Let ’ s move . We can go together .’
TIME ENDED
I pull the headset off, gasping for air. My throat sears with pain. The bulb above me flickers, making the room quiver around me.
I struggle to catch my breath. I feel sick. I ’ m going to be sick .
Sam. Sam . He looked so scared.
Is he OK? Is he going to be OK? And Bella .
My shoulder . I pull the collar of my nightgown down. Red marks. Fresh bruises. Everywhere.
I’ve been throwing myself against the wall.
Wow, OK. That was insane . And … amazing .
I try to sit, to lie down, but every position hurts. My whole body feels beaten. Two minutes till I get out. I lower myself down with my back against the wall and wait. I think about Bella and Sam, and that idiot who ran for the stairs. I close my eyes, trying to go back, back inside her head.
How did they film it? I could taste the smoke.
At last the door clunks open.
As the music and lights start up again, I wait outside for the countdown to finish.
01:12… 01:11… 01:10…
I feel a tap on my arm. It’s the girl from before. ‘I need to watch it again,’ she says.
‘I was going to go back—’
‘Please.’ Her bottom lip trembles, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Please, I just… I need to go back. I need to—’
‘What happens to Sam?’ I say.
‘I can’t…’ She shakes her head. ‘I won’t spoil it for you. Can’t you just watch another one?’ I look at the clock.
00:22… 00:21… 00:20…
‘But—’
‘I feel very connected to Bella.’
Well, so do I. So do I . ‘I feel the same.’
Her face suddenly flashes with anger. ‘Tough shit, this one’s mine.’ She steps in front of me, putting her hand on the door. ‘You’ll need to find another.’
00:00
The lights stop. The music stops. The distorted voice booms. ‘ It ’ s time to choose your story .’
She won’t budge.
I turn and find the closest door with no one outside it. I look up.
BUCKET.
Bucket doesn’t sound as good. It doesn’t sound as good at all.
Fine. I press the up button on the keypad, two minutes – that’s all I can afford, damn it – and tap my card.
Same as the other rooms. Same goggles.
But as I put them on, something feels different. The excitement, the thrill, is replaced with what I can only describe as some sort of dread. It’s as if a shadow has entered with me.
My stomach tightens as I pull the headset on.
YOU HAVE CHOSEN BUCKET. YOU ARE NOW JACK. HELLO, JACK. YOUR STORY WILL START IN 3… 2… 1…
– JACK –
My head is underwater .
I ’ m going to die . I ’ m going to—
A hand grabs the back of my neck and yanks me up . I splutter, dragging the cold air into my lungs . They rage in agony .
A man speaks from behind me . ‘ Are you ready to agree? ’
‘ No way ,’ I say . It hurts . I try to move my hands to push him away, but they ’ re tied behind my back .
I look down . There ’ s a bucket on the floor in front of me . Ice cubes floating on its surface . I feel the cold on my chest . Inside it too .
I squint into the room, but it ’ s too dark to see .
‘ Well, we ’ ll be here until you do ,’ he says in a thick south- London accent . ‘ We have all the time in the world .’
His fingers tighten around my hair and he pushes down again – hard – submerging my head back into the icy water . I want to twist my body, but he ’ s too strong .
I try to keep my mind blank . Not to panic .
The pressure in my chest makes me push back against him . He shoves me further down into the water .
I ’ m going to die . I ’ m going to die …
Finally he pulls me up and drops me to the floor . I turn on my side, spewing up water, my eyes streaming .
I watch his feet – black military boots, the bottom of his trousers now flecked in mud – slowly step around my head . Then he stops . His face leans into mine .
I see the collar of his leather jacket . His bald head . Stubble . Dark eyes .
‘ Leave me alone ,’ I splutter . I try to scream, but I can ’ t . ‘ Help me! ’
He makes a small laugh . ‘ No one can hear you, mate .’
‘ You ’ re evil .’
He crouches down next to me . ‘ You ’ re going to be a real problem for us, aren ’ t you? ’
‘ Let me out of here .’
He shrugs . ‘ I don ’ t take my orders from you .’ I try to move away from him, across the wooden floor, but his gloved hand pushes the side of my head down with a thud . He holds it there . ‘ What ’ s this? ’ he says, lifting the pendant that I wear round my neck . I watch him studying it in his fingers .
‘ Don ’ t you— ’
‘ A rose .’ He begins to laugh . ‘ Sweet . Fitting, I suppose . Did you make it? ’
I turn my head and focus on the ceiling . There ’ s a solar system painted across it . Each planet a different colour . It ’ s faded, bits of moss growing through the cracks in the wood, but I can see it was once so detailed, so beautiful .
I have no idea where I am .
‘ You like that? ’ the man says . ‘ This hut was built years ago . He painted it .’ He smirks .
‘ Fuck you .’
His foot slams into my stomach . ‘ Manners, Jack .’
But then, there ’ s a noise . From outside . In the woods .
A voice I know .
‘ Jack! ’ It ’ s him . He ’ s come . ‘ Jack! ’
‘ I ’ m in here! ’ I scream .
The bald man snaps his head to the door as it smashes open .
I see him framed in the doorway, with his fluorescent-blue hair . He runs towards me and drops to his knees . ‘ Jack . What ’ ve they done to you? ’ He looks up at the bald man . ‘ What have you done? ’
He grabs me, pulling me into his chest .
He ’ s here . He ’ s here . I see the bird tattoo on his wrist . The one I did for him .
‘ Please— ’ I start to say, but before I can finish, he pushes the man with the bald head . They struggle together in a blur – fists flying, legs kicking, yelling, scrapping . Then a loud thud .
The boy drops to the ground next to me, groaning in agony . Blood dribbles from a straight line, clinically straight, across his forehead .
I look up to see the bald man holding a piece of wood in his hand .
‘ You sick bastard ,’ I scream . ‘ You can ’ t do this .’
I see a shadow behind him, lurking in the doorway . A man . Shirt tucked into smart trousers . Shiny shoes .
I know who he is, but I can ’ t see his face . There ’ s a balaclava pulled over it .
‘ Good God ,’ he mutters as he steps into the room . ‘ Thank you, Karl ,’ he says . His voice is clipped . Posh . ‘ I ’ ll take it from here .’
His eyes land on the floor – on the boy with the fluorescent-blue hair, now seeped with blood .
‘ Eli? ’ I nudge his side with my arm . There ’ s blood everywhere . ‘ Eli? ’
TIME ENDED
I can’t move. I’m paralysed.
Tears are pouring down my face. I’m sobbing. Deep, guttural sobs.
How? How?
Jack. Jack . The pendant. The wooden rose. Jack from Melinda’s support group. The boy who remembered nothing. Like me.
The solar system. The hut. The hut I built with my parents.
And then me.
I saw myself, clear as day. Enter the room and kneel down next to Jack. In our hut in the woods behind the old house.
I have no memory of it. None. My mind is reeling. She said they were actors.
Jack. I knew … something when I saw him. But it was so faint, so distant.
Matching tattoos. The drawing in the attic.
But what makes me retch, makes my head spin out, is the man in the balaclava. I know that voice. I know that voice so well.
Because it was my dad.