Chapter 11 – Isolation
Glass. Sky. Green. Concrete. Rush of air. Unable to breathe. Should never have left bed. Stayed in bed. Bed.
In Uxbridge Ward, every conscious person jumped out of their skin as a loud crashing sound broke the ordered silence.
Everyone looked around to see what the cause of the commotion was. They saw James Blake sprawled on his bed, looking wildly around him like he’d just been dropped from a great height which, technically, he had. His face was cut. His clothes were ragged. He looked wild and he was making strange noises as he clutched the bed, seemingly trying to convince himself it was real.
Nurse Winter was standing near James’s bed, but made no effort to comfort him. Dr Soames had been standing outside the ward, heard the crash, and came running in to try and calm James down. He had no idea what had just happened, although his imagination was working overtime.
“It’s ok, James. It’s ok, you’re safe,” he soothed.
James was wild-eyed. He was hurting, he was tired, but he was alive. Somehow he had managed to teleport himself to safety. He wanted to speak. He wanted to tell them about Emma Venton and what had happened to Chief Superintendent Harden and DI Stannard. But as he started to speak he felt a wave of nausea. He felt as if he had just run a marathon and then played a game of football against Manchester United. He retched.
Dr Soames helped him to lie back on the bed. James could feel his eyes closing and a wave of sleep so powerful that he couldn’t resist it. He could hear noises, but the only voice he could understand came from Mr Randerson.
James could see him, turned round in his chair, calm and unfazed by James’s dramatic entrance. The voice was even and soothing. It had a honey-like quality, but yet was somehow poisonous. They were the last words he heard before he fell asleep.
“We told you that you wouldn’t be leaving.”
Jasmin Sharma couldn’t believe her luck. She was surrounded by broken glass, the remains of the top-floor window. Next to her was Dave Sturn, filming everything in sight.
James Blake’s nosedive had come halfway through Jasmin’s 12:30 broadcast. She had just been telling the viewers that the police were reportedly conducting a hunt within the hospital for a 14-year-old girl, when there had been the sound of breaking glass.
Live on TV, Jasmin and Dave had run towards the noise. Around the side of the tower block, they had found the remains of the smashed window, and some baffled onlookers. Jasmin had managed to interview eye witnesses who swore that a body had come falling down the side of the building. Dave had managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a heavily bandaged patient through the broken window, using the zoom lens. It was a TV reporter’s dream come true.
PC Nelson came running round the corner, talking on his radio.
“O’Brien? O’Brien? You on floor 17? Get up to the top floor now. Window smashed. Something got thrown out of it. Find out what’s going on.”
Suddenly aware that he was live on television, Nelson made sure he looked composed and in control.
“We’ll need to clear this area, please.” He gestured for the slowly gathering crowd to step back. Another officer came running. Nelson addressed him.
“Molesey. Get this area taped off will you. Better let the Chief know.”
Nelson turned to Dave Sturn and Jasmin. “Please could you get back. It could be dangerous here.”
Jasmin turned back to the camera. She sensed it was time to leave the report on a high. She wrapped up the broadcast, but made sure Dave continued to film, just in case.
“What do you think is going on?” she asked Nelson.
Nelson was never sure whether to be on his guard with Jasmin or not. He also couldn’t get the image of her removing her coffee-stained blouse out of his head.
“I wish I knew. Maybe when O’Brien gets his backside up there we’ll find out.” He started talking into the radio again. “O’Brien. O’Brien. You receiving me? What’s occurring up there?” He waited for an answer. “O’Brien?”
There was nothing but static.
Fast asleep in his hospital bed, James Blake was having terrible dreams. He thought he was waking up in a big empty hospital ward. His was the only bed, placed right in the middle of the room. He looked around the room. There were lots and lots of doors set into the walls. More doors than he could count. All the doors were open, but it was impossible to see what lay beyond them, because there was just total blackness.
Somehow, in the impossible world of the dream, he knew that something terrible was coming for him. An evil, nameless something was going to get him, and it was going to come through one of those doors. He could hear it approaching. A terrible, slow, dragging sound. But which door would it come through? He ran to the nearest door and shut it. There was a key in the lock. He turned it. The door was secure.
He ran to the next door and locked that too. Then the next, then the next. He must lock all the doors. But there were so many. Could he ever manage to lock all the doors in time? In his dream, he asked himself “Am I dreaming?” He did not know the answer, so he worked faster and faster to lock all the doors.
Later that afternoon, Samantha Blake was feeling ever more frustrated and worried. She looked at her phone. It was now 15:38. It was two hours since she had received her last text from James.
Why had she not heard from him? He must be ok though because he was with Chief Superintendent Harden. Unless he’d got into trouble for following Harden? She hated this not knowing.
Sam sighed. All afternoon, she’d been prodded, pulled, tested, X-rayed and goodness knows what else. She was amazed and delighted to be told that her cracked rib had healed, just like the skin on her chest and stomach. Buoyed by James’s recovery, she had hoped that her legs would be mended too, but the X-rays had shown they were still broken. So she was stuck in bed.
Sam was missing her mum and dad. She understood that they had a lot of arrangements to make, but she had wanted the chance to talk to them about what was happening to her and James. They had promised to be back here at half past six this evening.
It was all so unfair! How come James had recovered so quickly and she hadn’t? She should be out there with him, rather than being stuck here in this room, in this bed! She hadn’t had a visitor for nearly two hours. The worst thing was, she had run out of food!
She looked at her hands. She was fairly sure she had started that fire in the lift. She had felt the wave of heat emanating from her fingers in that moment of panic when the lift doors had closed, shutting her brother out. It all tied up. Dr Okocha kept telling her that her body temperature was worryingly high, and yet Sam didn’t feel hot at all. Her mum had assured her that her skin felt normal to the touch.
Sam wanted to try out this new... thing. She had no doubt that, at the first opportunity, James would be showing off whatever powers he had gained. But Sam didn’t want to be reckless. Fire was dangerous. She could potentially burn down the entire hospital.
Sam held out her hand in front of her. She imagined holding a tiny flame in her hand, like a candle.
There was a spark. A definite spark. Then another. She tried to relax. Tried not to force it.
Finally, there it was. A small flame, cradled in her palm. She made it burn brighter, like she was turning up the gas. It was in her control. She waved her hand around and the flame moved with it. Sam laughed at the thrill of her success. Then the flame died out.
That was amazing. What else might she be able to do? She thought about how she had pushed James over. Maybe she was really strong? She looked around. What could she try it on? There was nothing really. Bending a banana or crushing a grape wasn’t exactly The World’s Strongest Man. Although, hang on – fruit! Whereas a week ago she wouldn’t have considered eating anything else, now the idea seemed almost revelatory. She grabbed some grapes and a banana. She also clutched her teddy bear. She was glad no one could see her. She knew she should have grown out of that sort of thing, but she needed comfort. Which was ironic, she
thought, given that she might be the most powerful girl on the planet.
Sam totted up how much junk food she had eaten since she’d been awake, and it was probably more than she had consumed in the whole of the last year. Why wasn’t it making her feel bloated or sick? Had the accident changed her attitude to food, too?
Sam examined her body. To her, she still looked fat, although the doctors had repeatedly told her that she was underweight. She cringed at the memory. But then a thought struck her. She was healing, but at a much slower rate than James. Why? Was it to do with her body weight? It kind of made sense that if they were performing extraordinary physical feats then that in turn would burn off more energy, and they would need to eat more. James, the greedy pig, had always stuffed his face, which would explain his faster recovery.
Sam finished off all the fruit in the bowl.
She looked at her phone again and sent James yet another text, asking how and where he was.
She idly scanned the internet. She looked up the 24/7 News channel, as that seemed to be the only way to actually find out what was going on around here.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the headline.
Breaking News – School Bus Bombing – Were Twins Targeted?
Fears that teenage twins were targeted in terror attack, amid reports of SECOND strike in victims’ hospital!
Sam read on.
Jasmin Sharma was perched on PC Nelson’s desk, drinking coffee. Nelson was surprised to discover how quickly he had got used to Jasmin’s company. He didn’t like being stuck on his own in the mobile incident unit cabin. It felt good to be able to impress someone by being positive and dynamic. And, to be honest with himself, he just couldn’t stop looking at Jasmin’s incredibly short skirt and her perfect bare legs, which she was swinging off the edge of the desk.
“I’ve got Molesey – I mean, PC Mole – looking after the cordoned-off area underneath the broken window, keeping the riff raff back. Old O’Brien finally reported in. He’s still up on the top floor. He said that the Chief has taken charge. The top five floors of the hospital are empty, so the Chief has had them taped off as well.”
“What actually happened, though?” asked Jasmin.
“Security alert,” said Nelson, dramatically. “But it’s not that bad or they would have evacuated the hospital,” he conceded. “Probably a workman has left his lunchbox up there or chucked his hammer out the window.”
“What about the missing girl? She was up there. I saw her.”
Nelson shrugged.
“I guess that’s why the Chief is up there. I’m waiting for orders now.”
Jasmin smiled.
“More coffee?” she asked. Nelson nodded. Jasmin slid off the desk and left the cabin. Dave Sturn was waiting patiently outside, fiddling with his camera. He raised an eyebrow, enquiringly.
“Top five floors have been sealed,” reported Jasmin, as they strolled towards Dave’s car. “Harden has been up there for two hours. Emma Venton was up there. We need to get up there, fast.”
“I thought we were. Tonight?”
“I don’t think we can wait till then. We’ve got to do it as soon as possible. I think Harden is going to get more police down here. It’s obviously all kicking off inside. So we need to get into the hospital before the place is crawling with coppers. Get on the phone to the office. Tell them to send someone else to cover things from the outside. We’re going in.”
Dave Sturn nodded and hurried off. Jasmin’s mobile started ringing.
She didn’t recognise the number, but she answered it.
“Miss Sharma?” asked a shrill voice.
“Yes,” murmured Jasmin.
“This is Glennis Randerson. We haven’t heard from you about our next interview.” It was a demand and a statement of fact, all in one sentence.
Jasmin groaned inwardly.
“Well, we have done an interview today,” she pointed out. “Which has proved incredibly popular.” Jasmin had no idea if it had proved popular or not. She hadn’t had a chance to find out. “But we have to plan these things carefully.”
“What about America? We’ve already started packing our things. When will you be having Philip moved?”
For pity’s sake! Who were these people?
“Well, it doesn’t quite work like that,” soothed Jasmin. “It’s not a simple thing to arrange for a patient to be transferred to America.”
“I’m assuming it will be in the next day or so!” insisted Mrs Randerson. “My husband has already asked the neighbours to put our dustbins out next Monday.”
Jasmin wanted to laugh. The Randersons were priceless!
“To be honest, Mrs Randerson. I cannot say when, or even if, it is going to happen. It’s very much out of my hands.”
“Miss Sharma. I don’t know how you were brought up, but we have always raised Philip not to tell lies, or make promises he cannot keep.”
“Mrs Randerson, nobody has told lies and no promises were made. We had a conversation regarding sharing your story with the world, which we have done. If the US networks want to run with it, then they will no doubt be in touch with an offer. But as yet that has not happened. Let’s be patient, shall we?”
“It sounds to me,” said Mrs Randerson, her voice rising an octave, “that you are more interested in this James Blake story now, and have lost interest in my Philip.”
“And uhhh, what makes you think that?” asked Jasmin casually, her mind racing. James Blake? The twin again? What was the woman talking about?
“Well, you won’t find his body outside. He’s back in his bed now. But that will teach him to go wandering off to dangerous places. I don’t think they teach them anything in schools these days.”
“Are you saying James Blake fell out of the window?” Jasmin wished Mrs Randerson wasn’t such a mentalist, because as a source of information she was prolific.
“Miss Sharma,” the pitch of Mrs Randerson’s voice had changed again, back to stern. “It is clear that you are one of those women who acts in a certain way to get what she wants. We have a name for women like that, but I shan’t use it here. Instead, I will give you the opportunity to act like a decent young lady, and telephone me back by the end of the day to say you have made the appropriate arrangements for America. Otherwise”, she added in a shrill voice that made Jasmin move the phone away from her ear, “I will be very cross. In my day, young ladies who behaved in a dishonest fashion received an appropriate punishment. Good day to you.”
And with that the phone went dead. Jasmin should have laughed, but she shivered. Mrs Randerson was like a demonic headmistress. She wished she had never given the mad bint her telephone number. But then she had given her some priceless information. She looked at her watch. She just had time to give another quick news update.
Sam sat watching the news. She felt unable to stop herself from watching it. It held a morbid fascination for her. Earlier, she had been worried. Now she felt sick and scared. So many things had happened in the hospital over the last few hours that she had been totally unaware of.
First there had been the report of Emma Venton’s disappearance, by Jasmin Sharma. A written article rumoured that James and Samantha Blake might be targets for an unknown terrorist and that Sam had been abducted from her bed last night.
Then the mysterious ‘death dive’ story, culminating in the glimpse of Emma through the top-floor window. That had made Sam’s blood run cold. James had gone up to the top floor. What if it had been him who was thrown out of the window?
The door to her room was closed and it effectively shut out the sound of the hospital outside. She hadn’t noticed anyone walk past the door recently. What if something had happened to the entire hospital? What if, since that report, Emma had gone on and killed everyone in the building?
Sam was startled by the sudden appearance of a figure at the door. A shape. Immediately she thought it must be Emma Venton returning for her. The door opened. Friend or enemy?
Saman
tha Blake shrank down into her bed. Even with the amazing things that she could do, she had reason to be fearful.
The door opened. It was Chief Superintendent Harden accompanied by a woman who she didn’t recognise. An attractive, very businesslike woman, with red hair. If they were here, then everything must be all right.
And then all of a sudden, it wasn’t.