The Tens, Vanessa Jones [i like reading books .TXT] 📗

if it was her utter exhaustion or Clive's impassioned declaration and the first time she had seen him truly vulnerable, something within her softened. Seeing him weakened to his knees made her choke on pity and when pity rushes in, there is no room for anger. She found herself saying. 'I just don't understand why you act like you hate me? I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. And yet, it seems as though you won't help me to get back home?'

'I know, I know it seems that way!' He pleaded with her, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his forehead, like she was some Ancient Egyptian goddess. 'But believe me, we're just trying to make sure you are okay and healthy. We don't have a car to transport you back to the city and we can't risk you going to hospital or the police with traces of our special tea in your blood. It should be gone by tomorrow and then, I promise, we will walk you to the road and help you get a lift back home. I promise Sophie.' He lifted his eyes which had changed to the colour of cinnamon donuts and stared at her. She watched his eyelashes dart up and down for a bit while she thought.

'I want to go home, Clive. I have no interest in going to a hospital really. They will likely section me and I just don't think I need that right now. It will make me worse and it will prevent me from searching for Alex.'

'Good, good,' he nodded with relief. He stood up to leave but as an afterthought, he turned back to her, 'Sophie, do you think that since you have been here, you've been feeling... better?' He pointed to his head as he said this.

'Well, no obviously I've been feeling quite paralysed and exhausted since I've been here!' She set herself up to start yelling at him but she remembered his promise that he would help her get home tomorrow.

Something else started to dawn on her. He was right. Her mind was much better since she had happened upon the camp. And she hadn’t had the nightmare once.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Sophie awoke and even though she lifted her eyelids, everything stayed the same hopeless black. But she forgot herself and went to swing her legs out from under the covers and was delighted to discover they moved somewhat. Barely able to feel her feet, they were numb as they hit the floor. But she forced weight upon them and found herself able to perform an awkward crawl, using her hands on the ground.

Carefully, she snuck out of her tent, peeling back the flaps bit by bit, afraid of what might wait for her on the other side. But the only sign of life outside was the fire which had dropped smaller into a bundle of neon red coals, casting an eerie glow on the ground around it. The red made Sophie think of an 80s nostalgia movie, all stereotypical horror and cliché. She almost laughed at the irony.

Scanning the empty seats that rimmed the fire and the motionless tents, Sophie tried to get her bearings to scramble her way out, back down the hill to the road. She no longer wanted to wait to see if Clive would keep his promise. Although she was sure she had come in from one way, everything seemed flipped around. And in the dark, she couldn't tell where the land rose and where it fell. But she didn't care, she was desperate and would rather spend the night in the middle of isolated scrublands, without even the birds for company, than be kept a prisoner of the unhinged people of the camp in their matching jumpers. Limping, with her hands pressed to the ground, she shot off towards a wall of darkness, widening her eyes so she would see whatever she was about to run into. Her shoulder bumped a tree and she resisted the urge to cry out.

Rising and falling voices made her stop dead. Both quiet and angry. It was hard to tell but she thought they were coming her way. Clinging to the tree, she held her breath and turned her ear towards the voices to work out if they were coming closer or veering off. It was unmistakably Clive and Carla, arguing with muted volume. Lightly suppressed rage in Carla's voice and confusion and pleading in Clive's. Sophie could only garner scraps of conversation but they argued as if they were lovers. Sophie still couldn't tell if they were moving or staying still. They could have been a mere four metres away; it was hard to tell without the advantage of sight.

'We have to do it now. There's no point in putting it off any longer,' Clive begged.

'I'm telling you, she is not ready. I've been probing her every session that we've had and she is clueless.'

'That doesn't mean that we can't do it.'

'It absolutely means we cannot do it. It means that it didn't work at all or, worse, we've got the wrong person.'

The silence after Carla's declaration stretched through the air like a thick rubber band. And Sophie gulped as she realised who they were talking about. What are they going to do to me? Sophie screamed internally.

'What about her nightmares?' Clive asked hopefully.

My nightmares, Sophie thought. Why do they want to know about them?

'There are those. They are a fair indication that she is the right one. Unless it's a wild coincidence and, look, stranger things have happened. As we know.'

'Well, surely we have to try? It's been such a long time coming.'

'Fine. Let me think about it. I mean, we can't very well let her go alive now, can we?'

Sophie heard Clive sigh so loudly and despondently that it shocked her out of her eavesdropping. An icy chill, like a caterpillar crawling up her