You Are Dead

14

Thursday 11 December

Plock... plock... plock... The steady drip of water, from somewhere near. Where was she? Was it raining outside and was water leaking in?

Plock... plock... plock... Each drip echoing as loudly as if the ground it struck was a drum skin. For something to do, something to concentrate on, Logan counted in her head the gaps between each drip, shivering constantly from cold and terror. One hundred and one... one hundred and two... one hundred and three...

Plock.

Fifteen seconds.

She was parched, desperate for water, and she felt clammy and jittery, the deep, destabilizing sense of unease that always spread out through her stomach and up through her body when she was low on sugar. She was very low now. And she was still very badly in need of a pee.

Her eyes felt swollen and all she could see was a green haze. It was as if she was wearing someone else’s glasses, someone who had very poor vision; but she wasn’t wearing any glasses, so far as she could tell. Her nose was itching like hell, and she was desperate to scratch it, but her hands were pinned either side of her, there was nothing she could do. She was close to passing out, she knew. It was her anger that was keeping her going.

Her anger and her terrible fear.

‘Hello?’ she called out.

Her voice sounded deadened, as if absorbed straight into cotton wool. ‘Hello?’ she called again, louder. She must be asleep. Having a nightmare, a lucid dream? Yes, a lucid dream. She’d read stuff about lucid dreaming. Where you could become aware, in a dream, that you were dreaming.

She willed herself to wake up.

But nothing changed.

Then suddenly the light brightened. The green flared into brilliant white, hurting, burning, as searing as a blowtorch. ‘Hello?’ she said. ‘Jamie? Is that you, Jamie? Please let’s talk this through. Please. I know you’re upset with me for breaking it off — but please, this is enough. Please. Please.’

There was a long silence. She heard a sliding sound. Felt cold air on her face.

Someone was standing over her. Her skin was pricked with goosebumps.

‘Jamie?’ she cried out. ‘What do you want? What the hell are you doing? Let me go! For God’s sake get me some sugar, chocolate, I’m going into a hypo. Jamie. Jamie. Jamie. Is it you, Jamie? You know what happens if I get too low. Get me some sugar, urgently, please. Please! Jamiiiieeeeeeeeeee!’

The sliding sound again. The cool breeze stopped.

Could it possibly be Jamie? Angry at her for calling off the wedding? Had she missed something in his character? Had he set this up?

The bright light moved away, accompanied by the faint shuffle of footsteps. She heard a door close. Then a click nearby. Moments later she heard the sudden, tortured cry of a female voice.

‘Help me!’

A slick of terror slid through every cell in Logan’s body.

‘Help me!’ she heard again. Then an even deeper cry of anguish. ‘No! No, please noooo! Noooooooo!’

It was followed by the most pitiful scream.

And suddenly she could not contain her need to pee any longer. Embarrassed, she let go, fully expecting to feel the warm stream between her legs. But as she emptied her bladder, something seemed to be absorbing the urine.

Now she knew for sure this wasn’t a dream.