“Are you okay Alex?” called Mum from the living room.
“Bed,” was all I could muster, as I heaved my way on all fours up the steps.
I was drenched in sweat. My clothes looked like they’d been retrieved from a swimming pool. The carpet chafed against my wet skin, leaving fierce red marks on my arms and stomach as I dragged myself upwards. I reached my room in what seemed like hours. I barged my shoulder against the door. It swung open, knocking against the wall with a low thud.
I pulled myself onto the bed without even stopping to remove my sodden clothes. A wave of sickness rushed through my stomach. I leaned over the far side and vomited into the bin.
Whimpering, I rolled onto my back. The ceiling spun around like a car wheel. A small pitiful moan escaped my lips and with no strength left, my body sank into the mattress and my eyelids closed.
I was still in my room but I could feel that I wasn't alone. People were moving about in the shadows, their voices barely a whisper.
The bed shifted as someone leaned over me. I could feel them near my skin, could hear their low steady breathing. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn't respond. Panic exploded in my stomach. I wanted to scream for help, but my mouth wouldn't work. It felt like it had been glued shut. Terror replaced the panic. Inside I was writhing around like a wounded animal, screaming and fighting, but on the outside I would have appeared as still as the dead. More closed in around me, their breath warm on my face. I could smell something familiar, but couldn't place it. They spoke in small hushed bursts.
“ It’s definitely happening.”
“ We should take him now.”
“ I'll carry him.”
Someone scooped me up from under the covers as if I were a baby and flopped me over their shoulder. I strained with all my strength to get some part of me to respond — to fight off my kidnappers and escape — but nothing happened. I was a rag doll.
I felt the slight rise and fall as my kidnapper moved across the bedroom. My stomach lurched as the ground dropped away.
A second later a jarring sensation shook my body and I heard a loud crunch like a hammer on gravel. I realised with pure shock that whoever was carrying me had jumped out of my bedroom window. If I could have screamed I would have. No human could do that without serious damage to us both.
There were a few more heavy thumps onto the gravel as the others followed. Then the rhythmic walking started again — the steady rise and fall.
With everything I had, I strained once more against my paralyzed muscles. I felt the fingers on my left hand flicker. A wave of hope replaced the fear.
“ Wait!” I heard one of them hiss. My heart spasmed. We shuddered to a stop and warm set of fingers felt for something in my neck.
“ God, he isn't out properly! Quick, give it to me!”
There was a rustling sound followed by a sharp sting on the back of my hand. A cool sensation washed all the way up my arm. The last thing I remembered was the sharp taste of metal in the back of my mouth, before the darkness rushed in and took me.
5
My fingers stretched out, reaching for the pillow, but I couldn't find it. Instead I felt something soft and damp. I tried to lift my head up, but it was filled with lead. It pounded relentlessly.
Then the rest of me began to follow suit, starting with a low ache and escalating into an intense throbbing. I tried to open my eyes, but they were slow and unresponsive. The strange material was all around me. It rubbed gently against my stomach, face, arms and feet. After an age my sluggish eyes rolled open and through my blurry vision I saw that I was not in bed at all. I was face down in grass.
Using all of my strength I used my jelly arms to drag my aching body upright. After three tries, I was able to stand up onto spaghetti legs.
Only the briefest glance made it clear that I’d woken up in Providence Park.
My head thrummed and I clasped at it, rubbing furiously in a desperate attempt to blot out the pain. Eventually it subsided enough for me to focus.
The sky was a blend of orange and grey. The rising sun locked in battle with the winter clouds. An icy breeze traced the contours of my skin. The park was empty apart from a pair of joggers on the far side, dressed in matching blue tracksuits.
How the hell did I get here?
I tried to remember what happened the night before, but my brain wouldn't play ball. It only made my headache worse. I stopped trying to think too much. Instead I concluded I must have sleepwalked. It was the only possible explanation for my makeshift bed. Looking down at my trembling body, the theory faltered. I was wearing someone else’s clothes. A simple pair of grey jogging bottoms and white vest, but definitely not mine. All I cared about now was getting home. I staggered forward, only managing a few steps before collapsing.
Gritting my teeth, I stood up again. I wobbled like a drunk on my bare feet, taking baby steps so that I could remain upright. The aching worsened, aggravated by my stubborn movements.
I felt broken. Every part of me smashed beyond repair. But I carried on, step by step, until after an eternity, I’d made it through the gated exit and onto the pavement which followed the main road through town. I noticed a phone box across the road. It stood proud, offering it's salvation to those who could reach its graffitied glass doors.
I dug for change in the jogging bottoms. No luck. Reverse the charges, managed to squeeze through the dagger stabs in my brain. My head lolled from side to side as I vaguely checked for traffic. Meanwhile the throbbing in my body grew into a roaring crescendo of agony. With each boom in my temples, bright flashes of yellow burst into my eyesight. It felt like I could pass out at any moment. So focusing my squinting eyes on the telephone box, I stumbled into the road, arms outstretched like a toddler reaching for its mother.
Straight into the path of a speeding car.
I heard the sound of tyres locking, mixed with a bloodcurdling scream which sliced through my ears like a blade. My head turned in time to see a silver hatchback trying to veer around me just a little too late. Its back end skidded out and swung at me like a sledgehammer. There was no time to move. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.
The morning calm was pierced by the inhuman smash and screech of twisting metal, followed by the tinkle of thousands of cubes of glass pattering onto the road like hailstones. Then the angry hiss of a dying engine. The kind of sounds you only hear when something very bad has just happened. All I could feel was something cold wrapped around my lower body.
Am I dead? I wondered, eyes still squeezed shut. If I was, this wasn’t how I had expected it to be. There were no snapshots of my life, no white light to enter into.
My skin goose bumped from the frosty embrace of the unknown object. Whatever it was, it was holding on for dear life. I inched my eyelids apart. What I saw defied all logic.
The car was a steaming wreck, wrapped around my body.
At the impact point just behind the driver's door, it had caved around me, into a rough V shape. Steam poured in dark clouds from the exposed engine. The rear wheels had buckled and folded in on themselves, causing the car to sink down at the back. All the windows were smashed from the force of the impact.
It was the sort of result you would expect from a head on collision with a solid wall, not a seventeen year old kid. I looked down at my body, fearing the worst.
I didn’t have a scratch on me.
Straining, I prised myself free of the car’s steely grip. The metal groaned in protest.
I turned and stared at the wreckage, my mouth a wide O. The look was mirrored by the young, fair haired woman who crawled across the driver’s seat and flopped out of the passenger side. She staggered around and slumped against the twisted chassis next to me.