The Stuff of Nightmares (16 page)

‘Guess,’ the girl ordered.

‘What?’ I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

‘What’s my name? Guess.’

‘Maria.’

‘No.’

‘Mary, Melanie …’

‘No.’

‘I … I must stop …’

‘Guess,’ the mystery girl demanded.

‘Marsha, Mariella, Margaret …’

‘No.’

‘Please …’

‘Guess my name.’

I breathed out name after name after name and the music got louder and wilder until everything around me was a rushing blur – except for the mystery girl. She was like the hub around which chaos revolved.

‘Melody, Meggie, Marcie, Madonna, Megan …’

‘No, no, no,’ the girl laughed.

I didn’t know which was spinning faster now – the blood in my body or the room around me.

‘Guess.’

I went through every girl’s name beginning with M that I could think of, but to each guess the girl laughed delightedly and screamed, ‘No.’

‘I … I can’t think of … of any more. I’ve got … to stop …’ I could hardly get the words out. My lungs were about to implode, my blood roared inside me. Another fraction of a moment and I would collapse.

‘
Stop!
’

Abruptly the music stopped.

‘Are you all right, Perry?’ The girl’s eyes were glinting.

I looked around, gasping frantically as I fought to regain my breath. No one was taking the least bit of notice of me. Didn’t they hear me shout for help?

‘Are you all right, Perry? Is something wrong?’

‘You … you …’

‘Yes?’ prompted the girl.

I blinked heavily as my lungs filled and my heart slowed. ‘What just happened?’ I asked.

She frowned. ‘We were dancing and you were trying to guess my name. Then you suddenly stood still and started staring at me.’

‘I did?’

She nodded. I ran my fingers through my already ruffled hair. I looked around again, searching for a sign on someone’s face that they knew what I’d just
been
through – but there was nothing. I felt really, really sick.

‘I … I need some air. I’ll go outside for a while.’

‘Shall I come with you?’ the girl asked lightly.

I looked at her. Everyone else faded away. I felt as if I were at a crossroads, as if the answer to her question was vital. I shook my head to clear it. Now I was off in my own head, imagining things. That was my mate Kyle’s trick!

‘Just say if you don’t want my company.’

‘No … I mean, yes, yes, I do.’

The girl linked her arm with mine. ‘Let’s go this way, though the kitchen and out the back rather than fighting our way to the hall.’

‘But what about the girl whose party this is? She might not like us traipsing through her house,’ I said doubtfully.

‘She won’t mind.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Yes, I do, ’cause you’re talking to her,’ she laughed.

I frowned at her. ‘But I thought this was the party of some girl called Emma?’

‘M, not Emma. Everyone assumes M is short for Emma but it’s not. It stands for the letter M. Very few people know my real name. And I’m still waiting for you to guess it.’

M led the way through the dining room and the kitchen and down some stone steps to the back garden – if you could call it that. It was so big, it looked more like a small park! The moon was full and high, bathing
the
house and the grounds beyond in a cold white light. The night air was warm and smelled of freesias and roses and the faint hint of orange blossom, like my mum’s air freshener. I looked out over the vast lawn before me. There were flowers everywhere. Hedges broke up the huge expanse of grass, and far across it I saw what seemed to be silvery lights glinting. I sensed rather than saw that M was watching me.

‘I hope you don’t think I’m gate-crashing,’ I said, after an uncomfortable pause. ‘Naima invited me. She said you wouldn’t mind.’

‘And she was right. In fact I told her to invite you,’ she soothed. ‘Come on, let’s walk down to the lake.’

‘There’s a lake? Wow! This is some house!’ I whistled.

‘I like it.’ M smiled.

I realized that the dull silvery glint I could see across the lawn had to be a part of the lake.

‘So where’re your mum and dad?’ I asked.

‘Gone,’ she replied simply.

What did that mean? Gone for the night? Gone on holiday? Gone for good? I decided not to push it. If I was real lucky I might get a kiss, or more, and I didn’t want to ask painful, personal questions and ruin the mood. A soft breeze began to blow. M pulled the hairpins out of her hair until it fell free of its formal Grecian style, cascading down her back. She shook her head and laughed.

‘I prefer my hair loose and free.’

‘It looks better that way.’

‘I think so.’

We walked across the lawn towards the lake. The wind was beginning to pick up now. It snatched at M’s hair, tossing it around her face. I kept stealing glances at the girl beside me. She was so beautiful. I could hardly believe that she wanted to be alone with me. What would she do if I casually draped an arm around her shoulders? What would happen if I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her? God only knew, that was what I was longing to do. We rounded a high hedge which partially hid the lake from the house. I gasped. I’d had never seen so many statues in one place. They were all around the lake shore and beyond.

‘Where did you get all these statues?’ I asked.

‘I made them,’ M said.

There was no pride or modesty in her voice. She was merely stating a fact.

‘You
made
them? I’m impressed.’ I took another look around. ‘What’re they made of?’

‘Stone.’

‘Do you mind if I take a closer look?’

‘Be my guest. This is where I come when I want to be alone with my thoughts,’ M said softly. ‘And I like to have all my men around me.’

‘All your men?’

‘Each statue is of a man,’ she replied.

For the first time I saw that she was right. There were statues touching other statues, statues running, walking, kneeling, praying. Statues of men laughing,
crying
, raging, hiding their heads behind their hands. Statues of surprised men, disbelieving men, amazed men, even a couple of men laughing – and all in a variety of dress. Some contemporary, but most in period costume from across the centuries.

Suddenly all the emotions, all the attitudes overwhelmed me so that I had to look away. I turned to M. She was real and vivid. She was just what I needed to calm my imagination, which seemed to be working overtime tonight. I looked back at the house. We were now too far away to hear the music, and the lights were just tiny candle-flames through the hedge. I turned to gaze out across the lake. I felt strange, dizzy again, only this time M and I were standing still while the wind howled and the rest of the world spun away.

I shivered. I began to feel distinctly anxious. The water in the lake jumped and splashed in time with the wind’s harsh whistling. I looked around, my sense of unease growing. Then I noticed that none of the statues were set on a plinth. They were all free standing, on their own legs or knees – a few on their backs. I walked over to the nearest statue. I reached out to touch the jacket. It was clearly a leather jacket, but stone hard, stone cold. Frowning, I looked into the man’s face. The expression was bewilderment. The attention to detail really was amazing.

‘How d’you get them to stand up without a base?’

‘Guess my name and then I’ll tell you.’

And the wind grew fiercer.

All at once a peculiar thought struck me. Icy fingers began to stroke all over my body.

‘Your name …’ I turned my head slowly. ‘Your name is …’

M had taken off her mask. Her whole face was alive and glowing with joy. ‘I knew you’d get it,’ she laughed happily.

The wind died. Not a murmur, not a whisper of it was left. But still M’s hair writhed and slithered around her head.

‘Medusa …’ It was the last word I ever said.

‘Congratulations, Perry! Or would you rather I called you by your full name? And it’s such a romantic name. A name that always brings out the best in me.’ Medusa’s laugh tinkled like a tiny bell in the still evening air. She stepped up to me, the newest statue in her garden. ‘Perry, I know you can hear me deep inside your stone tomb. All my statues are alive, deep inside … for a while. Get used to your new home, Perseus – you’ll be here for a long, long time. Sooner or later your heartbeat will slow, and then it will cease. But I think in your case it will be later. Much later. But, Perseus, I can guarantee one thing: you’ll pray it was otherwise …’

And with one last satisfied smile, she ran across the lawn and up the stone steps to rejoin the party.

14

HA!
I ACTUALLY
laughed out loud. And the sound snatched me up and dragged me back to the train. I didn’t know about the other visions but I
knew
what I’d just seen about Perry wasn’t true. Medusa! Medusa was just a legend. She didn’t really exist. And even if the legend had an iota of truth to it, Medusa sure as hell didn’t exist nowadays. Perry’s encounter
had
to be imagination.

Why were some of my visions so real, while others, like those of Miss Wells and now Perry, seemed so … far-fetched? Medusa! What next? Wolverine running for American president?

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Rachel.

‘You are,’ I told her. ‘D’you know, you actually had me going until Perry’s dream.’

Rachel looked at me but said nothing.

‘What is it? Some kind of hypnotism trick?’ I asked. ‘You’re good – I’ll give you that.’

‘I’m not trying to trick you,’ Rachel denied softly.

‘But you really expect me to believe that Medusa
comes
after Perry just ’cause of his name? Please!’

‘The dreams you take us into are nothing to do with me,’ said Rachel. ‘And I told you before, some dreams show what is to come; some are just dreams, nothing else.’

‘Look, I don’t know what your game is but I’m not playing,’ I told her belligerently.

Now that I knew it was some kind of hoax, I was determined to focus on the task at hand – like getting the hell off this train.

‘Which game would you prefer to play?’ Rachel asked me coldly. ‘Mine or his?’

And she turned me round to face the end of the carriage. Where the shimmering light was before, there was now the translucent, misty form of a man. At least, I think it was a man, but it was more like a ghost forming before my eyes than anything else.

Ghosts and shadows …

They were on my list of things that scared me the most.

I wasn’t out of this nightmare yet.

‘Now, d’you want my help or not?’ Rachel asked.

I couldn’t speak, could hardly think. All I could do was feel the fear inside eating me up as I watched the shadow struggle to become more tangible. And it was a struggle, I could see that much.

‘Get us away from here, Kyle,’ Rachel whispered.

‘How?’

‘One of your friends. Lose yourself inside the dream of one of your friends. Then he’ll never find you.’

I turned and looked at Perry, at Steve, at Joe. But I couldn’t think myself into their dreams again. It was as if their minds had closed a door against me. Beside me Rachel was beginning to breathe more heavily, as if panic were beginning to set in with her too.

‘Kyle, hurry …’

I backed away, stumbling as I did so but managing to remain on my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Roberta. I thought of her dream and found the way was still open to jump back into it. So those were my choices. The Marauders from Robby’s head or that
thing
at the end of the carriage. No contest. That apparition was after
me
. Against the Marauders, Robby stood a chance – even if it was only slim. What chance did I have against Death? I closed my eyes and leaped. And somewhere along the way, Rachel leaped with me.

15

Roberta’s Nightmare

MARAUDERS!

The midnight-blue overalls which covered their entire bodies struck fear into my heart. The Marauders were the only ones – that I knew of, at any rate – who could survive the rain. And it was because of their uniform. I’d never met anyone who knew how they did it, or where their uniforms had come from in the first place. There were rumblings about the Marauders being someone’s private army but no one knew whose, or even if the rumours were true. Marauders arrived without warning and left destruction and chaos in their wake. I ran for the trapdoor between the water tanks and let myself into the cellar, careful not to fold the lino right back so that it would flop over the trapdoor once I had closed it. The last sound I heard was banging on the door, then the sound of wood splintering. I didn’t wait to hear any more.

Down in the cellar I forced myself not to panic, although I thought my heart would explode out of my chest. I felt for the knife I always kept on me, reassured
by
the cool feel of it in my hand. I was armed at least. But hell! I’d never killed anyone before. I’d never had to. What I’d said to Carter was a lie. There was muted shouting and crashing above me. I looked up as if trying to see through the ceiling. Carter … Was he all right? Had they killed him yet? I should’ve stayed with him – but if he was dead then I’d be dead too by now. What could I do that Carter couldn’t? I was smaller, younger, not as strong. More muted sounds. I wasn’t even sure if they were voices. Now everything was quiet. In some ways that was worse than hearing noises.

Looking through the darkness, I decided that the wisest thing would be to keep out of sight until the Marauders left – or came down into the cellar, whichever happened first. Slowly I felt my way along, arms outstretched, to what I thought would be the ideal spot behind two columns of boxes that I remembered. Very carefully, so as not to knock them over, I inched my way around them. In the space behind the boxes I could stand up straight without being seen from the trapdoor and I had just enough room to kneel but not to sit. I felt safer, but not safe. I counted the time passing by listening to my heart hammer.

Did I doze off? I’m not sure, but I was suddenly keenly aware of the sound of the trapdoor opening. The half-light created by the open door spilled to just in front of the boxes I was hiding behind.