Chapter 19 – Breakthrough
Sam was determined to get through to Philip. She was sure he could hear her. Despite being in a coma and a nightmare, he was still aware of what was going on around him. He must be able to see through the eyes of the people he was controlling. It was the only explanation for how Philip was able to manipulate events. Therefore, he must be able to hear her. But how do you wake someone from the deepest, darkest dream?
She had heard that coma patients could react to direct outside stimuli.
“I want to hold Philip’s hand,” she announced. Mrs Randerson looked surprised.
“Why?”
“That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do, isn’t it?” asked Sam, reasonably. She wished she could stop shivering. She wished someone would just put an arm around her and tell her everything was ok. Nobody did.
“Well, I’m going to hold his hand,” Sam asserted. “If Philip wants to stop me, he is more than capable of doing so. Dr Soames, will you help me?”
Dr Soames looked at Harden and started walking over to Sam. Harden made no move to prevent him. Dr Soames found some crutches in the corner of the ward. He brought them over to Sam and helped her to her feet. She used the crutches to hobble over to Philip’s bed. Dr Soames placed a chair for her and helped Sam to sit down. Nurse Winter’s unconscious body was still lying on the floor. Dr Soames picked her up and carried her to Sam’s old bed.
Sam placed her hand over Philip’s. She gently stroked it, just like her mum would do when she needed comforting.
“Hello, Philip,” she began, hesitantly. She felt stupid, and she felt conscious that everyone in the room was looking at her. “I don’t know if you can hear me. But I hope you can feel me touching your hand.”
She looked around. Dave Sturn was even filming her.
“Philip. Do you remember what you asked me on the coach? Do you remember the coach? Just before the bomb went off, we were talking. You asked me a question. Do you remember what my answer was?”
There was no indication that Philip had heard her. Sam knew she was just hoping for the best. Mrs Randerson struck another match and watched it burn.
It unnerved Sam. While she was sure that Philip had some kind of control over his parents, they weren’t like the sleepwalkers. They weren’t passive zombies. Quite the reverse, they had become grotesque exaggerations of their real selves. Clearly Mrs Randerson had always been a classic overbearing and overprotective mother. But in Philip’s nightmare, she was a monster. That must be how Philip saw her, and because his nightmare was now real he had turned his mother into mumzilla.
Sergeant Blunt’s team had arrived in the stairwell between floor 35 and 36. Bailey’s body was still where it had fallen, his neck twisted at a horrible angle. Blunt had seen friends and colleagues die before, but it didn’t make it any easier. He did what he always did. Breathed deeply. If emotion got the better of him, he would make mistakes. He didn’t intend to make any.
Like Stannard, he was leading a team of five SFOs. Three women and two men. He didn’t want to lose a single one of them. He craned his neck upwards to see what might be waiting for them at the top of the stairwell. Empty. Potential hostiles waiting in the corridor beyond the door? Only one way to find out. He led his team up the remaining steps.
Keeley Gann, a 28-year-old officer, was bringing up the rear of the squad. She stood with her back to the doors of the supposedly deserted 35th-floor corridor. She didn’t notice a figure appear at the glass behind her. Suddenly the door was swept open with such force that it knocked her off her feet. Before she could recover, Anika Ali had taken two paces forward, lifted Gann off the ground and thrown her down the stairs. Right behind her, Officer Sarah Dunne reacted quickly. Gann was one of her best friends on the Force. They looked after each other’s children and swapped presents every birthday. She needed to believe that Gann had survived the fall.
Dunne fired her taser. Anika Ali collapsed to the ground, twitching, the electrical bolt lodged in her stomach. Dunne quickly checked Gann. She was alive, but unconscious. Her metal helmet had protected her head and the body armour had absorbed the impact of her fall.
Sergeant Blunt hesitated. He did not want to leave a fallen comrade. But he had been warned by Stannard that anyone rendered unconscious might wake up as one of the enemy. He couldn’t take Gann with them, nor was there time to move her. They would have to risk leaving her.
“Dunne. Leave her. She’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
Sergeant Blunt looked through the glass of the doors leading into the corridor on floor 36. Again, he couldn’t see anyone. Another trap, no doubt. Time to take action.
He pulled a tear-gas cartridge out of his belt clip. The team put their masks on.
He threw the cartridge into the corridor in one direction, then a second one in the opposite direction and closed the door. That would smoke them out.
The noise of the exploding cartridges reached Windsor Ward.
“Oh dear,” said Mr Randerson. “Does rather sound like we haven’t been taken seriously doesn’t it?” He straightened his tie. His wife didn’t like it if the knot was crooked.
“Indeed not,” agreed Mrs Randerson. “Just like Miss Sharma over there. She didn’t take us seriously either. Perhaps it’s time we started to address that.”
She struck another match and paced over to Jasmin’s bed. She held the flame a few centimetres in front of the reporter’s face.
Jasmin tried to shrink back into the pillow as far as she could. Mrs Randerson started stroking Jasmin’s cheek. “Such a bright, young thing,” she mused. “So beautiful. So radiant. And yet, so short-lived.” The match went out. Mrs Randerson smiled.
Sam tried to ignore the other people in the room. She still needed to get through to Philip. She was frightened, but she felt so much stronger now. The food was starting to have an effect. Her fingers were tingling. Her legs didn’t hurt anymore. It was impossible to say if they had totally mended, but she was sure she would be able to walk now. But she wanted to give herself as long as possible. If she ripped off the plaster casts too soon and fell flat on her face, then it would be game over.
“Philip. You do know who I am, don’t you?” she asked. “You know it’s Sam? The girl you like having meaningful intellectual conversations with. And the one who never really knows what you’re on about.” She laughed, hoping he would too.
“You’re probably trying to think up a witty reply. Remember that I said I liked a sense of humour? Well, I wasn’t lying. It’s not just good-looking boys that I like. I want someone to be funny. I want them to see the world like I do. I’m sure you must have understood that. I didn’t even know you that well, but I know that you are the smartest boy in the school. But there’s something else that I think is more important.” Sam reached over and placed her lips against Philip’s hand. She kissed it. “They have to be kind,” she murmured. She put her head down on the bed, her forehead touching his hand. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was the strangest feeling, trying to talk to someone who may or may not even be able to hear you.
“Sam – look!” urged Dr Soames.
Sam raised her head. Philip had several vases of flowers on his bedside locker. A single rose, which had been sitting amongst a collection of other colourful flowers, was floating in mid air above the vase. Slowly but smoothly it glided across the bed and settled into Samantha’s lap.
Sam felt her eyes watering.
“He heard me,” she cried. “Did you see that? He heard me.” She held up the rose in front of Philip.
“Thank you, Philip, thank you. Please. Can you open your eyes? Can you look at me?”
But Philip’s eyes remained closed.
Sergeant Blunt waited patiently on the stairwell. He looked through the glass into the corridor, but it was impossible to see anything except thick plumes of smoke. Blunt removed a stun grenade from his belt. He would throw a couple of those into the corridor too for good measure, and then his team
would go in.
He opened the door. Instantly, tear gas started seeping out into the stairwell. Instinctively, everyone checked their gas masks to make sure they were on securely. Blunt pulled the pin from the stun grenade and prepared to throw it down the right side of the corridor. Before he could, a face loomed out of the smoke. Emma Venton! Blunt was taken aback. Before he could react, two hands reached through the smoke and dragged him into the thick fog, making him drop his grenade before he went. He was instantly enveloped and disappeared. Before Blunt’s team could react and help their comrade, the stun grenade went off. There was a deafening bang and the team were blinded by the flash of light.