Come Into Darkness (6 page)

“Sir! Come back!”

“Fuck you,” Mario hissed. His foot struck something hard, and he fell. The ground knocked the air from him and his face hit the earth. He spat.

What the-?

He wiped his lips and examined his fingers. Damp sand clung to the skin.

Two sets of hands grabbed him under each arm, trying to pull him to his feet.

“Get off me!”

“But sir, you have to calm yourself! We’ve had…issues like this before. Don’t rush. Take it slow.”

“I told you to get off me,” said Mario and shrugged himself free. He landed on his hands and knees, out of breath.

“Don’t be stupid,” said Kerry from behind.

The wind ruffled his hair.

Mario frowned.

A breeze?

He pushed himself up and sat back.

Grassy dunes spread out to meet the sea at the horizon, and nimbus clouds traversed the sky in slow-moving queues. Somewhere, a seagull cawed.

Mario stared out across the land and water. “Worth?”

The old man stood by his side.

“Yes, sir?”

“I…what…?”

Mario mumbled the words. Questions collapsed before they had begun, and his tongue fell dormant and useless.

He watched the waves slowly roll about a mile away.

“Come on,” said Worth. “Miss Foster, would you help me get the young man to his feet?”

“Sure,” said Kerry. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Just a little overwhelmed,” said Worth. “It happens. I’m sure you appreciate such a reaction.”

They helped Mario stand and held him. His knees gave way, and he leaned against Worth.

“There are much more interesting places than this, sir!” said the guide. “But this is quite a spectacular view.”

“Isn’t it,” said Kerry. “Shits on my pokey little bedroom.”

Mario stared upward. The sun hid behind a hazy grey sky that reached to the horizon on each side. Seagulls swept over, calling to each other in high-pitched glee.

“Where is this?” he asked. “What have you done?”

“
We
have done nothing,” whispered Worth. “This is all
you
. Miss Foster, help me to that dune over there.”

Mario’s shoes slid in the damp sand. A slight path weaved through the dunes and trees on both sides, and Worth guided him along, taking most of the weight. Kerry had draped his other arm around her shoulders and kept pace.

“We warned you not to go running off, sir,” said Worth, not out of breath. He dragged Mario along, despite the stumbles. “These young actors. Always so hot-headed…”

“Stop,” said Mario. “I…I think I can stand.”

“Sure?” asked Kerry. “You don’t want a face full of sand again, although it was quite amusing.” She ducked from beneath his arm. “Fuck it. If he says he can stand, he can stand.” She walked a few metres away and removed the cigarettes from her jacket.

Worth held on.

“I said I can stand,” Mario snapped. “Let go of me.”

He glanced at Worth, who nodded and released him.

“Take deep breaths, sir. Give your mind time to adjust.”

Mario turned away, eyeing the distance. The breeze had quickened. He smelt the salty tang of the ocean on the air, like rotting seaweed and broken shells.

“Where are we?”

Worth chuckled. “Only you can tell us that.”

Mario glanced back the way they’d come. He expected a door to be standing alone, or at the very least be embedded in the side of a dune. The path led away in sandy covered patches on the short grass. The squat bushes shivered in the wind.

“This can’t be real.”

“Best not to get too deep into all that bollocks,” said Kerry, raising her voice over the sigh of the wind. “It’ll drive you mad if you think about it too much.”

“But…where’s the building? The rooms? We can’t just step out into…into here!”

Kerry dragged from the cigarette, and the light gust snatched away the smoke the moment it emerged from her lips. “Here’s a tip. You’re passed out drunk in the bar. The party is going on all around you, and you’re having one messed up dream. That might get you through.” She sucked the filter again and exhaled through her nose. “Well, come on, Mr. Big Shot Actor. Where are we? Only you know.”

Mario tensed the muscles in his legs to keep himself upright. His hands trembled. Fresh sweat tickled his scalp. “I…I don’t know.”

“Oh come, sir. One must know where we are!” Worth gestured past him and slowly swept his hand back, like a magician revealing his final illusion. “What do you see? Think back…”

Mario faced him and stared at his moustache. In the breeze, the strands twitched like spider legs.

“It looks like…no…it can’t be…”

“Sir?”

“It’s miles away! We can’t be there.”

“Be where? What did you do here, sir?”

Kerry checked her watch and flicked her cigarette away. “Are you two going to play twenty questions all night? Or can we get going?”

Worth dismissed her with a curt wave. “Patience, Miss Foster!” He sighed. “Why do I always get the young upstarts?”

Staring out to sea, the first piece of the jigsaw fell into place. Mario pointed at the faint black monument poking from the deep blue at the horizon.

“There,” he said, hushed. “The rig. You can see it on clear days. Sometimes see the helicopters dropping off the workmen. No chance on a day like this though. It feels like early spring. Too heavy and overcast to see too far out.”

Worth smiled. “Carry on, Mr. Fulcinni…”

“You can see the wind farm if it’s clear and if you get high enough.” Mario looked around and spotting a dune with a gentle slope, he walked to it and clambered up. At its peak, he strained his eyes to penetrate the grey. A drop of rain struck his cheek. “I can’t see them. Too hazy. But they’re there, just down the coast. Hundreds of thin windmills sticking out the water like a field of alien ships or something.”

He pointed in the opposite direction.

“And just over those dunes! There’s a golf course. We used to park the car on the edge and walk down with the dog…” He stopped. “…down to the pond…” The pieces of the jigsaw had clicked together with ease, faster and faster, in his head. He’d described them as they followed each other, like a line of dominoes, each image knocking the next into place.

“…with Laurie.”

Worth clapped his hands together. “Very good, sir!”

Kerry looked bored.

“It’s miles away! We can’t be here,” said Mario.

“Only one way to find out,” said Kerry. “Let’s go look for your pond.”

“That sounds like a marvellous idea,” said Worth.

A stronger gust hit Mario, and he staggered forward atop the dune. He welcomed the cold against his face.

This is too real. I’ve never had a dream this real…

The wind died down, and a gentle pattering seemed to rise from the ground. Mario gazed up into the clouds. Rain fell into his eyes and onto his cheeks.

“Great,” said Kerry. “Good thing this makeup’s waterproof. I’m still going to get soaked though. Why did you make it rain?”

Mario ignored her and closed his eyes, his senses tingling.

“I think it’s romantic,” said Worth, sounding unfazed. “Nothing more romantic than a long walk in the rain with the one you love.”

Kerry huffed.

“But, sir. The young miss is right. We are bound to get drenched if we stay in this weather too long. I suggest we make a move, lest we spend the rest of the week fighting pneumonia!”

Mario opened his eyes and gazed down. He breathed deep, held it a moment, and released.

You’re passed out drunk in the bar. The party is going on all around you and you’re having one messed up dream. That might get you through.

“Yes,” he said, smiling. “Let’s find that pond.”

Sit back and enjoy the ride. Fuck it.

He walked down the dune, his wide strides punching through the sand, forming a mini avalanche. Jumping the last few feet, he landed on the path next to Worth. The two men headed down the scattered path with Kerry following.

“I must say,” said the guide, the wind still buffeting his hair, “I’m astounded, sir. Never before have I seen such a change of heart. Maybe now you can embrace what we offer here.”

Mario laughed.

“You know what, Worth? I think I’m going to do just that. I don’t know how the hell you’ve done all this. I might be lying on that dance floor, twitching and being sick, through something you put in that champagne. Mark my words, if that is the case, I’m going to sue the hell out of you.”

Mario stared across the sandy hills to the left.

Was that the sound of club striking golf ball? Carried on the wind?

“Or,” he continued, “the prices you charge go toward a giant virtual reality machine. Imagine that!”

“Indeed, sir.”

“Yeah. That’s it. A kind of holographic projection suite. Kerry and me are all wired up to these gizmos, and you’ll be sat there, Worth, at a bank of monitors, controlling all this with a click here and a press there. Am I right?”

From behind, Kerry groaned. “How much farther? I didn’t pay all this money to fucking walk!”

They walked on, rounding a bend in the path and ducking under an overhanging tree. It appeared dead, with thin branches like tangled, withered tentacles.

“I remember that tree,” said Mario. “One day we were walking through here and the damn thing scratched my cheek. I was just breaking into the business then and had an audition the next day in Manchester. That was a sleepless night. Who would want to hire someone with that on their face?”

“You still haven’t told me what you do,” said Kerry. “I know you’re an actor, but any pretentious prick whose done a drama course can say that. You must be able to afford this place. Come on, what have you been in?”

None of this is real anyway. Might as well tell her. Besides, what we’ve been through already makes her closer then most of my friends.

My god.

This better not be real.

Mario stopped. “My most successful film was called the Leaning Tower. Heard of it?”

Kerry shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.” He smirked. “Worth? How about you? I’m sure even a man of your age appreciates some artistic…cinematography every now and again.”

The old man merely smiled back.

“I’m not following,” said Kerry.

“Well put it this way. You know the audition I told you about? Well I got the part. It wasn’t my face they were interested in.” He glanced down and up. He winked.

“What?” said Kerry, frowning. Her eyes widened. “Oh…”

Mario resumed the walk.

“Then how the hell can you afford this?” said Kerry, hurrying after him. “Only the elite can come here! How the hell-“

“Investments,” said Mario. “And let’s leave it at that.”

They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

Up ahead, Worth, showing no signs of tiring despite the dips and hills, looked back over his shoulder.

“Tell me more of your theory, sir. I have shown more people through this place than I care to remember. I’ve heard some pretty exceptional ideas on how all this works. I’d be grateful to hear the rest of yours.”

The wind hit them in an icy blast, throwing rain into their faces. Mario paused, wiping the drops from his eyes and cheeks.

“Weather’s getting worse,” he said. “Which actually challenges my theory.”

“Which is, sir?”

“It was Kerry’s turn before. Now it’s my turn. If we
are
drugged and hooked up to some kind of machine, which I believe we are, I think you’re switching between us, reading our minds to create all this. I mean, you created Kerry’s old room down to the finest detail with the television and the diary. I bet even the finished meal she cracked her mother with was authentic. If she’d had a sandwich that night in 1998, a sandwich would have been on that plate earlier.”

“Amazing, sir.”

“Isn’t it? And this place. I swear I can hear people playing golf. That’s how authentic you’re making this. But…”

“But?”

“I’m
not
creating this. It’s raining. I don’t want it to rain. I’ve already been wet tonight and I don’t like being like this again.” As if to demonstrate, he pulled his jacket tighter. “I don’t want it to rain, yet it’s getting worse.”

The path widened, almost like the mouth of a river flowing into the sea of dark brown sand. High dunes stood on either side with steep, grass covered sides.

“We’re here,” said Mario. “We’re at the pond.”

7

Through the gateway formed by the sand dunes, the three walked down the gentle slope toward the pond. Its surface ruffled. Reeds swayed and bobbed like members of a crowd jostling for a better view. Mario stopped at the edge of the water, and his designer shoes sank into the mud. He pulled them free with a wet smacking sound.

“Your shoes are ruined,” mentioned Kerry. She stayed away from the water, stilettos safe from the hungry mire.

“I can buy new ones,” said Mario and turned away to gaze across the large pond. Nothing lived on the waves that licked the shore. He’d never seen a duck or any kind of bird paddling on the border, nor had he seen any anglers trying their luck. The muddy water appeared thick as cold hot chocolate. If any fish were hardy enough to live in such an isolated hole, they never broke the surface.

“The only wildlife we ever saw here were other people walking other dogs,” he said, looking into the past.

“We, sir?”

Mario swallowed. “Laurie and me.”

The old man bowed slightly. “Ah yes. You mentioned the name earlier. I’d be interested to hear more, should you want to share. It seems you want to.”

Mario turned his back on the pond and faced his guide.

“Mr. Worth,” he said. “Surely you know all about her? Can’t you just dig a little deeper?” He tapped his right temple and grinned.

“I’m sorry, sir. I forgot. Let me return to my machine that I have you hooked up to. Am I right?”

Mario grinned. “You tell me.”

Worth cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. The wind had ruffled him as much as the water. “Despite my distinct lack of a mind reading machine,” he said, “I imagine this Laurie was quite a special person, sir. After all, a man in your profession must have had more lady friends than I’ve had guests through Metus House.” He paused for thought, twisting his moustache again. “Yes, I can almost see it. You. Her. Romantic walks through the dunes to this pond. Your secret spot, was it, sir?”