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Authors: Chris Ryan

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Blackout (8 page)

BOOK: Blackout
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57

He took another bite, flicking one of the pineapple chunks onto the ground, then chewing the slice quickly. Get it inside you, he told himself. Every bite you take will get you a bite closer to being stronger again. And strength is what you need.

'I had a memory,' said Josh.

Kate looked surprised. She turned to face him, a smile flashing across her lips. 'Just now?'

'Earlier,' answered Josh.'As I was waking up this afternoon.'

It was a little after nine at night, and the final rays of sunlight had just dipped below the horizon. The fierce redness of the sunset against the reddish-browns of the desert landscape had held Josh's attention for more than an hour: he had been happy just to sit and watch the gradual fading of the light, and the smears of colour it left behind. By the time Kate had come out of the kitchen with a giant pizza and a pitcher of iced tea he had been feeling better than at any time since he'd been shot. The pain from his wounds was ebbing, and the headache was tuning down to just a mild, irregular drumbeat.

Now a moon was starting to rise in the sky, arcing across the distant mountain and bathing the flat land in a silver light. Ahead of him, Josh could see a huge inch-and-a-half long bug crawling across the scrub, its eyes glinting through the darkness. The creature had a thick black skin, and was moving at speed across the ground.

Is that dangerous? wondered Josh as he watched the spider's progress. That's the real ^risk from losing your memory: a lifetime's experience of knowing how to look after yourself is lost in a split second.

'Morning is the time when you're most likely to find some memories stirring within you,' said Kate, looking up towards Josh. 'Whenever you feel yourself waking up, try and keep your mind empty and relaxed. Eventually some memories will sneak back in there.'

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'There was a shot,' said Josh, looking towards Kate. 'A gunshot.'

'Aimed at you?' she asked. 'Was it someone shooting at you?'

Josh shook his head. 'No, I don't think so,' he answered. 'I hear a shot. And then I see a boy running. Across some kind of dark landscape. Then that's it. The memory goes.'

'It's a start,' said Kate. 'It's locked up in there somewhere. We just have to find a key that opens the box.'

Josh took a further bite of his pizza, flicking another piece of pineapple on the ground and watching the spider crawl towards the discarded fruit. 'The key's pretty well locked up right now.'

'Try some of the stuff you were watching on TV,' said Kate. 'Maybe that will trigger something.'

'Hasn't yet,' said Josh, taking a sip of the iced tea.

'Iraq,' said Kate. 'What does that mean to you personally? Have you been there?'

Josh paused. Something. He could feel it in his brain, a slight flickering of recognition. But nothing more came. 'No,' he replied. 'Nothing.'

'Okay,' said Kate. 'Let's try something else.' She hesitated. 'What's my name?'

Josh looked at her and grinned. 'Kate.'

'My father's name?'

'Marshall.'

'What did I give you for breakfast yesterday?'

'Cereal.'

Kate nodded. 'And how was the weather?'

'Hot,' answered Josh. 'Bloody hot.'

Kate poured herself a glass of iced tea. She was wearing a pale blue linen skirt and a white blouse, the most dressy clothes Josh had seen her in. He noticed the smooth outline of her legs beneath the fabric. Her skin was tanned a rich, light brown from constant exposure to the sun. The bright

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locks of red hair against the tanned skin gave her an exotic appearance that was all the more captivating for being so unusual. Most redheads had pale skins, reflected Josh. She was an unusual woman. In a thousand different ways, no doubt.

'There are two different types of memory loss,' said Kate. 'Anterograde, which means the patient can't learn anything new. And retrograde, which means they can't remember anything that happened before a certain point. They can remember general stuff, but nothing personal. We've just tested you on the past couple of days and you're doing fine. You remember everything that happened since you came here. So what you are suffering from is retrograde memory loss. That tells us there isn't any brain damage. Rest. You'll get it back.'

'And if I don't?'

Kate shrugged.'You'll just have to learn again. Everything. From scratch, like a kid.'

Josh glanced towards Kate. For the first time since he had woken up here two days ago he could feel himself starting to relax. The itching in his neck was subsiding, and his leg was almost strong enough to stand on without him having to use a crutch. He could move without his whole body rebelling in pain.

Everything's going to be okay, he said to himself. I don't know how or when. But I can sense it. I'm going to pull through this.

'What are you doing out here?'

He sipped on his iced tea and looked at Kate, at the same time gesturing towards the desolate landscape.

'Don't you like it?' she asked. He could detect the hint of defiance in her voice. 'It's a wilderness,' he replied.

'I like it. It's natural. Unspoilt. The way the world should be.'

Josh looked out onto the scrubland. Some of the pizza

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was still sitting at his side, but he had eaten as much as he could manage this evening. 'I don't mean that,' he said. 'You're a doctor, but you don't practise. You're an attractive young woman, but you live out here, a hundred miles from the nearest decent-sized town. I'm sorry, I don't get it.' He looked at Kate. 'What are you hiding from?' Kate stood up briskly. Her manner had grown cold and distant: her shoulders were hunched up into her neck, and her gaze flicked past Josh as if she were searching for something in the distance. 'You need some rest,' she said. 'That's an order from your doctor.'

Josh woke up with a start. His head was spinning and his breathing was ragged. He was about to speak, but he could feel Kate's hand covering his lips.

'Quiet,' she whispered fiercely in his ear. 'There are men approaching the house. Police.'

Josh struggled to wrap the sheet around his naked body. He could feel the tension flooding through him. Glancing outside, he could *see that it was night: the yard was in shadow, with only some moonlight throwing a few pale beams across the pathway.

'What shall I do?'

'Hide, quick,' said Kate. 'There's a place under the floorboards.' Josh got to his feet, using his crutch to walk across the yard to the kitchen. He could see two police cars turning the corner, driving along J;he narrow strip of road that led up to the house. 'Quick,' said Kate at his side.

Marshall was waiting in the kitchen. He was holding up a layer of lino, pointing to a patch of exposed floor. 'Down there,' he snapped, pushing aside two planks to reveal a trapdoor. 'There's a space just big enough to hold a man.'

Josh looked into the darkness. He could see almost nothing. Next to him, Marshall switched on a flashlight. The

61

beam illuminated a set of six steps that led down to a curved space. Josh started to step downwards, leaving his crutch behind. His leg still throbbed painfully as his weight rested upon it. Using his hands, he levered himself into position.

The rectangular trench measured ten feet by ten. It was five feet deep. The space had been cut into the earth below the foundations of the bungalow, with strips of wood used to prop up its sides. Josh lay down on his back. 'I'm going to switch the flashlight off now,' said Marshall. 'I'll get you out when they've gone.'

The flashlight flicked off, and suddenly Josh was plunged into blackness. He could see nothing, only hear footsteps moving above him. The air down in the trench was hot -- at least forty degrees -- and stale. Josh could feel the sweat starting to form on his skin. He could sense the cracked earth all around him, and a few feet away he could Smell the pipe that led down from the bathroom towards the septic tank.

Why do they have a one-man hiding place beneath their house? thought Josh. Who the hell are these people?

He heard a knock on the door. One set of footsteps, then another. Two men. Josh was certain they were men. The steps were heavy and deliberate, walking slowly through the house as if they were searching for something.

Voices. They were too muffled for him to make out at first. He strained his ears, struggling to catch the words being spoken just a few yards above him.

'An Englishman,' he heard a voj*:e saying. 'We're looking for a man with a British accent. He's in the area somewhere.'

Josh could hear Kate speaking, but he couldn't catch what she was saying. A whisper was all that filtered down, the words indistinct.

'He might be dangerous,' he heard the man saying. 'Only might be, mind. We just want to bring him in for questioning.'

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They think I did it. They think I shot somebody. And -- who knows? -- maybe I did, thought Josh to himself. What kind of man am I? What might I be capable of?

Another pause. Kate was speaking again but still Josh couldn't catch the words.

'You haven't seen anything suspicious in the area?' asked the man. 'We think he might be pretty badly hurt too, so he couldn't have gone far.'

Josh could hear Kate now. 'We haven't seen anybody,' she said. 'And, as you know, it's pretty isolated up here. If there was anyone, we'd've seen them.'

'Mind if we look around?'

Now Josh could hear Marshall walking across the floor. 'Feel free,' the older man said.

Josh lay completely still. He could hear the footsteps tramping across the floor above him. And he could hear the sounds of cupboards being opened and beds being moved.

Suddenly he felt something moving across his skin. The thing's touch felt dry and coarse, with the texture of an old belt. A snake. Josh could feel his flesh starting to creep. Goose bumps were rising on every inch of his skin, and a shiver of cold fear started to run down his spine. His hand was trembling, and he had to focus his mind to try and steady it.

I'm learning new things about myself all the time. I have a fear of snakes.

Stay still, he told himself. Stay perfectly still and you'll be okay.

The snake moved further across his torso. Josh caught a glimpse of its eyes, glinting back at him. His own eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness and he could make out that the reptile had wide bands of red and black skin interspersed with narrow ones of white and yellow. Its head was completely black, with a snubbed snout, and

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its long tongue flicked lazily across Josh's chest to lick some of the sweat from his body. Was its bite venomous?

Hold steady, man, thought Josh, tracking the snake's movements. Just keep your nerve.

He could hear footsteps moving towards the door. 'Nothing in the other building?' he heard the policeman say.

'Just a guest room,' Marshall replied.

More movement. Then Kate said something that Josh couldn't catch. The snake started to move up along Josh's body towards his neck. Its tail was flicking against his buttocks.

'Sure?'Josh heard the policeman say suspiciously.

'Sure,' said Marshall. 'Go take a look.'

Another pause. Josh felt a desperate need to scratch the bandage on his neck. The snake was pushing up against the wound.

Another inch, thought Josh, and I'll have to move.

'You can contact us in Fernwood,' he heard the man say. 'You see or hear anything strange, then you let us know. And don't attempt to approach this guy. He might be dangerous.'

Josh took a deep breath. The snake was pushing its head against his bandage, nuzzling it open with the hard bone of its snout. It can smell the blood in there, he realised. And it wants a taste.

Above him he could hear the sound of a starter motor turning, then of an engine running. The police car was starting to pull out onto the roadway. Slowly he counted to five, making sure that the car was safely away from the house before risking betraying himself with any sudden movements.

Now I know I'm a wanted man, Josh reflected sourly. And Kate and Marshall are protecting me. I should be grateful, but why are they doing it?

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With a swift, violent movement, Josh flicked his hand upwards. He grabbed the snake by the throat, squeezing as hard as he could on the thin tube of flesh, skin and bone until the breath emptied out of its body, its tail flapping against Josh's legs, lashing at the skin.

He cast the corpse to one side.

Already, Marshall was beaming his flashlight down into the trench. 'You okay?' he shouted.

65

FIVE

Friday, June 5th. Dawn.

The Chevy Avalanche pick-up truck bounced along the pitted surface of the road. Josh wound down the window, letting the morning air rush over his face. Traces of red were splattered across the sky. His mind was fresh from another five hours of sleep after the police had left and the caffeine from the coffee he had drunk for breakfast was" still flowing through his veins.

'Much further?' he said, looking across at Marshall.

The older man was gripping the wheel of the pickup truck. 'About two miles,' he said, his voice tired. 'I'll tell you when we're there.'

The drive had taken just under an hour, and they had left the house at six. The route had taken them through a rough, mountainous landscape, the surface of the ground pitted with boulders and dried-out trenches. The first town, Fernwood, was just over a mile away, but that was a just a gas station with a diner and general store attached, and a collection of a dozen houses. Since then, they had passed through two more towns, both of them just as small. A pair of ranches had been signposted off the road. Otherwise, nothing. Cococino County was as empty of people as Josh's mind was of memories.

Cowboy country, thought Josh as he gazed out of the window.

The truck started to slow down. The Ford Ranger had been left back at their house - Marshall was still fixing

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some of the damage it had taken in the fight at the start of the week. As they turned the corner, Marshall jabbed his foot on the brakes, and the tyres made a screeching sound as they gripped the surface of the road. 'Here,' said Marshall. Kate was sitting between Josh and her father. She looked at Josh, scrutinising his expression as he looked out over the valley. To the right, behind them, there was a high ridge of red-rock hills. The road twisted along their side. To the left, the land was flat, rolling out several miles into the distance, its smooth, sandy surface punctuated only by cacti and the occasional boulder. Nothing, thought Josh, a pang of disappointment stabbing at his chest. It is as if I never saw the place before in my life. Marshall pushed open the driver's door and hopped down onto the ground. Kate offered Josh her hand to help him down, but he shook his head. The crutch would do just fine. The pain in his leg was still there, but he was getting used to hobbling, and he knew that the more he exercised it the better. He was wearing an old pair of Gap jeans that Marshall had lent him: they were a size too big, and he'd had to put an extra notch in the belt to pull them tight enough around his waist. On top, he wore a blue denim shirt that he'd found in a cupboard. Doesn't matter what I look like, he told himself. In this gear, I'll just blend into the landscape. Another cowboy without much money to spend on his wardrobe. 'Somewhere around here,' said Kate, stepping away from the side of the road. 'This is where I found you.' Josh followed a yard behind her until she stopped beside a ridge. He paused, smelling the air: the dust, the rock and the heat combined to create a hazy, earthy odour that reminded him of somewhere. A camp, maybe. On a hillside. With men, and noise. And screaming.

BOOK: Blackout
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