Hexad: The Ward (26 page)

"Let's make the most of it then," said Dale, now pulling Amanda toward the bathroom.

Peter better not have made a mess in the bathroom.

A few moments later they decided it was best to spend their time in the bedroom. Peter seemed to have somehow got involved in a mud fight with the garden and had left most of it in the shower — there was more dirt and grass then Amanda could have believed possible to have come off a single human being.

As they walked into the bedroom, Wozzy greeted them with a lazy flick of the ear and a half-open eye before going back to sleep, somehow managing to stretch across both of their pillows.

Welcome home,
thought Amanda, smiling as she pulled Dale to the floor.

Too Much

Present Day

"Are you ready?" asked Dale.

Amanda gulped, smiled although she knew Dale could tell it was fake, and nodded, freshly washed hair falling forward to hide her fears. "Let's do it."

"Are you sure? I can go on my own."

"No, Dale, we do this together. And besides, I just know this won't turn out how we expect."

"Yeah, I kind of have that feeling too." Dale squeezed Amanda's hand tight, reassuring her a little — whatever happened at least they were together.

They jumped.

~~~

37 Years Future

Conversations had gone around in circles once more, both of them admitting they had little in the way of a plan, but that they knew it hinged on returning to The Ward at the time fate had conspired to send them to in the first place. The only thing they could agree on was that they would jump to the middle of the night at The Ward when things were quiet and nobody would expect them. At least they hoped that would be the case.

As to the rest? Well, they would deal with that as it came. All they had to go on was the unshakable feeling they were going where time wanted them to go. What awaited them there they had no idea, but they would find their answers and they would solve the problem somehow, or die trying.

"Ow."

"Ssh," said Amanda in a whisper, stepping off Dale's foot. Already the sweats had begun. The thought of going back to The Ward was scary enough, but actually being back, and in Hector's office, made her head spin and sent her reeling. She was losing balance, losing her grip on reality, and they'd only been there a few seconds.

The memories threatened to overwhelm her, to send her over the edge, spiraling down and out of control. The smell, the smell of cabbage and bleach, of the sweat and tears of countless versions of herself, it was too much.

Amanda felt the strength in her legs go. Her knees buckled and she reached out for Hector's desk.

"You okay?" asked Dale, concern highlighted on his face by the faint glow of the Hexad, 5 flashing rhythmically.

"I'm... I'll be all right, just give me a minute." Amanda leaned against the desk, the warmth from the wood strangely reassuring. As she calmed, so the strength in her legs returned, and she reached over to switch on the reading lamp. The green shade gave a cold light but at least they could see properly. Nobody was around in the night time, Hector always left and the women were locked up for the night in the dorm. Only a skeleton staff remained. It would be the nurse with no name and a couple of goons in case anyone caused any trouble — it seldom happened, nobody was clear enough of thought to do much but sleep and get topped up with meds in the morning.

"It's so quiet here," said Dale, staring around the room.

"I know. I've never been here at this time, it's damn weird." Amanda was at a loss, what were they supposed to do? What was next?

Creak.

They turned at the sound. The shelves were moving, row after row of perfectly aligned, leather-bound books coming at them. It took Amanda a moment to understand what was happening — it was a hidden door, built into the bookshelves that lined the one wall, integrating seamlessly when closed.

Dale caught on a moment later and grabbed her. He flicked off the light, put the Hexad in his pocket and they ducked down behind the desk, peering over the top as the secret door opened wide.

They watched as a figure emerged through the door. Light spilled out behind him, allowing them to get a clear picture for a second before the door closed and the room was plunged into darkness. By this time he was at the office door and had unlocked it. He closed it behind him; they were back in darkness.

Amanda moved to stand but Dale pulled her back down. "Wait a minute, there might be someone else."

"Okay. But you do know who that was, don't you?"

"Yeah. What the hell is this all about?"

"I don't know, but we're going to find out."

They waited, the only sound their breathing as the darkness enveloped them. It had been Max Overtone, the billionaire that was to be the first person to buy a Hexad from Hector's secret organization. You couldn't miss him with the expensive suit, the dark tan and perfectly coiffed hair — he looked like a used car salesman that had suddenly come into a lot of money, all plastic and fake looking, like he'd do you a dodgy deal if you gave him the wink.

Why was he there, and what was behind the door?

Amanda stood, her knees beginning to shake again.

Dale got up and turned the lamp back on, finger poised on the switch in case anyone else came through the secret door. "What's he doing here? I thought he was just a rich dude who was going to buy the Hexad? This isn't ringing true any more."

"Like it did when we saw that crazy advert in the city? It was all a trick, some way to get everyone geared up and itching to own a Hexad. A marketing ploy you and Peter couldn't tear your eyes away from."

"Yeah, well, the woman was mesmerizing. Come on." Dale moved over to the bookcase and ran his fingers along the almost invisible line that was the door. "How do you open the damn thing?"

Amanda moved up beside him and took the books out closest to the edge of the door. It was barely a hairline crack. This was one door that was very well constructed. There was no way you would ever find it unless you knew exactly where to look. She returned the books and moved over to the desk.

"Move out the way, let me try something."

Dale turned and then stepped aside as Amanda angled the lamp at the bookcase.

She turned the lamp so it highlighted the top of the shelves then moved it down slowly, squinting as she studied the books. "There, that one, the book on the sixth row down."

Dale moved to the books and counted down the shelves. Amanda angled the light more and said, "To your right, the third of those red ones. Yes, that's it. See, the spine is glossy, probably where it's been touched more often."

Dale carefully removed the book. Behind it was a simple switch, looking just like a plain light switch. "How did you know to do that?"

"What? It's how secret doors always work. There's always a switch or a button somewhere, it's either hidden behind a book or it's under the desk. Well, what you waiting for?"

"Okay, here goes." Dale reached out and nervously flicked the switch. He jumped back as the door swung open silently.

Amanda turned off the lamp, careful to put it back in its proper place, and stepped over to Dale.

"This won't be good, will it?" she said.

"No, of course not. What is?"

They peered through the opening at a stark corridor the width of the open door, strong white light bleaching concrete walls looking like the bones of some ancient, huge animal. Amanda reached for Dale's hand and squeezed it tightly. He flicked the switch, the door began to close and they walked into their future.

Things Get Weird

37 Years Future

"No, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening, this can't be real." Amanda felt like her head had cracked open, brains spilling out and replaced with the madness of a million women weeping for their souls. She sank to the ground, trying to fight it and knowing she would fail. She hardly even registered Dale's hands under her as he stopped her from cracking her head on the floor just to feel something real and visceral rather than raw emotion.

"Move. Come on, keep it together, just move."

It was too late, they'd been seen. What felt like a thousand pairs of eyes turned and stared at them dully, eyes that saw but didn't care.
They probably think I look like someone else,
thought Amanda, as she looked into the dead eyes of one woman after another.

A moment later they were dismissed, not important, and the women turned back to the screen. They were in a large room, like a gymnasium Amanda remembered from school, equipment gone but the parquet floor remaining. There must have been a thousand cheap chairs lined up in neat row after row, and in each chair sat an Amanda now staring straight ahead again, rather than at the opening she and Dale had walked through after moving from the stark corridor and taking the door at the end then repeating the process a few more times, walking past small office spaces, empty apart from tidy desks and the dull flickering of monitors hooked up to computers.

They assumed it must be the administrative side of Hector's operation, how they kept track of all the women and how they got them in the first place, but as far as they discovered this wasn't where the Hexads were made, this was simply how they ran The Ward.

What they hadn't expected was for there to be almost a repeat of The Ward that Amanda had known but on a much larger scale. They'd found a large dorm, empty, and a rec room, empty too, nobody around, everything eerie and as silent as an empty padded cell.

They were all in this over-sized TV room, staring at a face Amanda had seen before, the face of the woman that had enthralled those in the square in the city when she'd had to drag Dale and Peter away. What was this? Why were they watching TV in the middle of the night? Who were all these women and why were they here?

Amanda didn't want to know, couldn't face it for another moment. She knew she would go mad if she did. Already she felt the pull of the women, wanted to take a chair and join them, be a part of whatever it was they had together, to be lost to anything and everything, just watch the beautiful woman on the screen and be done with the pain and anguish. Sit in a cheap chair and go numb.

"Let's get out of here, quick," Amanda managed to whisper, already moving back to the door.

"What the hell are they doing? Why are they here? And who's in charge?" Dale tried to see what was keeping the women in the room, or who, but it seemed that the TV, or more likely, the woman and her words on the screen, were draw enough to keep them firmly in their place.

"I don't care, I'm leaving." Amanda clutched at the door handle, but her eyesight had blurred. Everything was doubled up and her brain couldn't focus. She missed the handle and batted ineffectively at air.

"Come on, here we go." Dale opened the door and as they left the madness behind them the women turned to watch for a moment as the hinges squealed before returning their gaze to the screen.

Dale helped Amanda stagger down the corridor. They moved as fast as they could away from the TV and the nightmare of a thousand identical women all uncaring, watching TV in the middle of the night like it was perfectly normal.

Questions spun around Amanda's head but she couldn't grasp a single thought and hold it. The sight of so many women, apparently oblivious to their situation, was too much to take. This was like The Ward but magnified. Who were they? Those that were too far gone to be in The Ward? Those that couldn't function or those that had been used up, sucked dry of their precious fluids and left to wither while they were mesmerized by the screen?

So many questions with not a single answer.

"I... Dale... Help me."

Amanda blacked out. She welcomed the emptiness.

~~~

Amanda awoke to a pleasant numbness, a feeling that was all-too-familiar. A fuzzy, light feeling where everything was all right with the world, where thoughts held no power, everything was fluffy clouds and life was simple. You woke, you ate and drank, you sat and let your mind drift, thinking of nothing much, and then you slept.

Amanda shifted her position, wiggled her bum on the padded floor, eased her back tighter into the corner of the room and brought her knees up closer to her ears. In her crouched position, she smiled slightly and watched as the tray of food slid through the hatch in the door. It must be breakfast time.

Breakfast time at The Ward.

It was strange, she felt like she'd been away, but couldn't remember. She was home now, home where they would take care of her and everything was okay.

Amanda pushed back and straightened, then moved over to the tray and lapped at orange juice on the tray like a dog.

The juice tasted slightly bitter. Absentmindedly, she thought they had probably upped her meds. Maybe she'd been naughty again?

It didn't matter, they'd fix her, they always did. Didn't they?

A Little Unexpected

37 Years Future

Amanda stared at the man in front of her as he undid the straitjacket, knowing she knew him but not sure how, or if it mattered anyway. Of course it didn't, nothing did. The man was crying as he fumbled with the straps, clearly not used to how it fastened, and he kept glancing at the door, the open door, as if worried someone would come in, or worried she would try to go out of her room?

He didn't have to be concerned about that. She was a good girl. She wouldn't do anything naughty. She didn't like being punished. She wanted to stay where she was, sit against the wall, recover and get well.

Maybe this man was going to take her to Hector? Was it her day to see him and get a little better?

She couldn't think, wasn't sure of the day or the time. What had happened to see her back inside her cell? She'd been out in gen pop hadn't she?