Dreams Of Death: Book Two In The Michael Manners Dream Sequence, page 1
Dreams of Death
Book Two in the Michael Manners Dream Sequence
David Thomas
For Emma, Zac and Henry,
without whom life would be a very dull book.
And for my readers, thank you one and all.
Contents
10th September
11th September
9th October
26th October
1st November
14th November
15th November
16th November
17th November
3rd December
6th December
14th December
15th December
24th December
25th December
27th December
1st January
2nd January
4th January
5th January
11th January
12th January
15th January
16th January
18th January, 4am
18th January, 9am
18th January, 11am
18th January, 1pm
18th January, 9pm
19th January
22nd January
23rd January
24th January
30th January
31st January, 3am
31st January, 9am
31st January, 11am
31st January, 4pm
31st January, 5pm
31st January, 8pm
1st February, 11am
1st February, 1pm
1st February, 3pm
1st February, 9pm
1st February, 10pm
1st February, 11pm
1st February, 11:30pm
2nd February, 2am
2nd February, 5am
2nd February, 7:30am
2nd February, 9am
2nd February, 1pm
10th September
The overhead light flickered on and then off, on and then off, each time it was extinguished plunging the room into darkness. The third time it lit up, it remained illuminated, a harsh white fluorescent strip that washed off the bare brick walls and concrete floor.
The interior door slammed shut and a lock engaged, the sounds loud in the small room, and the man who had entered the room stared around at the garage. The metal shelves along the wall opposite held neatly arranged tins of paint, boxes of tools and, pushed to the back, several small black nondescript gym bags. A large, bronze coloured car dominated the centre of the room.
The up and over garage door which lead to the driveway was closed and locked. Although he had secured it himself, the man, who was middle-aged, heavy set, clean shaven and with long black hair held back in a ponytail walked around the front of the car and checked the door, making sure it was in fact locked. He then returned to the car.
Everything was ready, prepared in a dream like state the day before, while his wife was at work and his two teenage children were at school. He had been waiting all evening for everyone in the household to go to bed, telling his wife that he’d join her soon when she had headed upstairs around 11pm. He had slipped all three of them a sleeping tablet in their evening drinks, he needed to ensure that he would not be disturbed. Now, he looked at his watch, it was a quarter past midnight. It was time. Nobody would wake for at least six hours, plenty of time to finish what he needed to, to finish what he had started.
He ran his tongue over his thin lips, nervous, but also feeling something else, excitement perhaps? Yes, he mused, he was excited about what was about to happen, what he was about to do. Today he would escape from this life that had become a prison cell.
He took a step towards the car and then a step back. He turned to face the door to the house, indecision etched across his face, but even as he turned, even as he paused, hesitant, he knew he would go through with his plan. He opened the driver’s door, sat down, and pulled the heavy door closed behind him, engaging the central locking as he did so. Looking to his left he saw the passenger side window was slightly open, the green garden hose fitting through the narrow gap that had been blocked with tape, sealed shut, just as the other end of the pipe had been sealed to the exhaust.
In a trancelike state he turned the key, which was already in the ignition in case the brain fog he had been suffering from had caused him to lose it. The engine started straight away, as he knew it would. The car was a 1984 Jaguar XJS and had been well maintained, it was almost forty years old, but a vintage car, not an old banger or heap of scrap, not like the cars he had driven in the past for his employers.
With the sound of the engine came the music of Frank Sinatra as the car’s refurbished media centre immediately resumed playing the CD the man had inserted earlier in the day. The familiar calming strains of New York, New York filled the interior of the vehicle.
The man relaxed back in his seat, enjoying on a subconscious level the cool sensation of the leather through his thin shirt. He could already smell the petrol fumes, believed he could see the gas in the air as he squinted, and he did squint increasingly as his eyes became heavier and began to close more frequently. This is quicker than I expected, he thought. The next thought was of his family, will I miss them? Probably. Will they miss me? Perhaps. They’ll certainly notice that I’m not there and they’ll miss the money, undoubtedly, but they won’t miss my temper, or the risks, the danger that I’ve brought into their lives.
His eyes closed again, and then he thought about that danger, about all the things he had done through his forty-five years of life, and he started to feel a familiar excitement. With the excitement came a panic. Am I doing the right thing? Should I be sat here, waiting to die? What am I doing?
He opened his eyes and looked around him, as if he was seeing his surroundings for the first time. He tried to reach for the car door, tried to open it. It wouldn’t open, his fingers felt fat and uncontrollable, unable to grip the handle to open the door. Something was wrong, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be, or what he was supposed to be doing. He needed to get out. He tried to reach across to the other window, to open it further, to push the pipe out, but he couldn’t, it must be the gas, it must already be killing me, and then he remembered the ignition.
He looked towards where the key should be, intending to turn off the engine, but all he could see was a growing circle of black in the centre of his vision. And then he couldn’t see anything around that circle, there was only darkness. And, as the final ‘New York’ faded into silence, his chest stopped rising.
11th September
‘So, just to recap, you are a millionaire?’ Jess threw an earnest look up at her brother.
Michael squirmed slightly, wishing fervently for simpler times. ‘Technically, yes, but with taxes, bills and “hangers on,”’ he looked pointedly at Jess, ‘I can’t just sit back and never work again.’
Jess nodded rapidly. ‘Uh huh, yep, sure I get that. But that’s not what I was going to ask.’ She paused sucking her top lip against her teeth for an uncomfortably long time before continuing.
‘What I want to know, what I really need to know, is why we are still living in Reading, and not somewhere a little more, I don’t know, upmarket and fancy.’ She turned to face the diminutive estate agent who was hovering behind her, waiting to hand over the keys. ‘No offence Karen, I know you Readingonians – if that is even a word - are super proud of your turf.’
Karen blushed, she was straight out of college and somewhat in awe of Michael’s wallet and Jess’ cool Californian style, with her bleach blond long hair, sparkly nails and bright blue eyes. ‘No offence taken Ms Manners, I’ve been wondering the same thing.’
Jess reached out a hand and laid it heavily on Karen’s shoulder, causing the woman to redden even more. ‘Hey, Karen, I told you when we looked at houses all day, call me Jess.’ She flashed the agent a smile and then turned back to Michael. ‘So?’
‘So, you know full well why we are buying a house here. Elizabeth lives and works here, plus Russ and Rosie are close, and besides, I couldn’t care less for upmarket or fancy.’
Jess studied her brother for another minute, looking him up and down, taking in his unruly mop of brown hair, scruffy white trainers, faded petrol blue jeans, and battered leather jacket that she knew he’d owned for at least a decade. ‘Clearly.’ She quipped as Karen barked out a laugh behind her.
‘But you know I’m teasing. I want to be near those guys too, I adore Elizabeth and love the clan McCloud, and the new pad is definitely a step up from the flat. I don’t understand why the bunch of keys is quite so extensive however.’ She began counting through the keys Karen had handed her. ‘Are these spares?’
‘No, your sharp eyes will surely have noticed they’re all different. But perhaps you can’t recall the work I asked Karen’s company to manage when we exchanged contracts on the house?’ Michael raised his eyebrows at the teen.
‘Oh, yeah. Yes of course, the “security”.’ She made air quotes and winked as she spoke, causing Karen to let out another snort of laughter, followed by another deep blush.
‘Let’s just head in kiddo before you burst something with your hilarious jokes.’ Michael planted a hand on Jess’ back and steered her up the short path from the pavement to their new front door. I do not want to have a conversation about what you mean by “security” with an estate agent, he thou ght, or indeed with anyone.
After Karen had left, thoroughly flustered by the enthusiastic hug with which Jess had said goodbye, Michael and Jess sat in the first-floor kitchen. They perched on the new chairs that had been delivered and unpacked the previous week, sipped coffee and took in the view across the centre of the town.
The entire middle floor of the building was taken up by the kitchen, a room that was high end, high tech, and had been extensively remodeled by the previous owner shortly before they had decided to sell up. The end of the room where Michael and Jess sat overlooked the street and had a modest dining table surrounded by six chairs, negating the need for the dining room on the ground floor to function as such. Instead that room would likely be used as a very occasional guest room but was mostly intended for use as a home office by Michael. The rest of the ground floor contained a small bathroom and a spacious lounge, divided into two zones by a large sofa in order to create a snug seating area at the back of the house and centred on a fire place with a log burner, and a writing nook with a large bay window where Jess would be able to study. The floor above the kitchen featured two en suite bedrooms, a luxury that Michael had insisted on when they were house hunting.
Jess picked up one of keys they’d been given and tapped it on the table thoughtfully. ‘So, this is the key I use to lock myself into my bedroom. And this is the only copy?’
Michael nodded.
‘OK, and so when I am awake, I unlock the door, regardless of whether you are awake?’
Another nod, as Jess continued. ‘And that’s to protect me in case you go for an after dark stroll?’
Michael nodded again.
‘And that is a precaution I understand, a need for protection I absolutely appreciate. Believe me I do.’ She shuddered, thinking back over the first week she had spent in the UK after dropping in on her brother unannounced. ‘But what if there’s an emergency and you need me, or I need you?’
‘OK, so that’s where this comes in.’ Michael picked up a key card. ‘I can use this, and a code, to get to you without needing your key. The code changes with each use and I have to log on to an app to get the new code.’ He placed the key card back on the table. ‘All of which is to say that I would need to be fully awake, not sleepwalking, in order to take all those steps.’
He reached across the table and brushed a hair off his sister’s face, I am doing a really poor job of being the reassuring older brother, he considered. ‘Besides, with Ben gone, and my now being aware of the psychic link we shared, I genuinely don’t think anyone could poke around in my consciousness without my knowledge.’
Jess opened her mouth to speak but Michael raised his hand and continued. ‘But, before you suggest we don’t need the extra lock and complicated security at all, I want to remind you that I am still a night time fight or flight risk, prone to wander and potentially do myself or others an injury.’ He paused, his expression darkening as he replayed in his head the events from the summer. ‘So, my bedroom door and the front and back doors have alarms that will sound if anyone exits without turning the alarms off, and they will make a high-pitched noise that – based on extensive research – I would be unlikely to sleep through. And, for Elizabeth’s security, she’ll have a panic button in case something happens while she is staying the night.’
‘Do you also have a safe word?’ Jess winked, though Michael could tell from the slight tremor in her voice that she was worried in spite of her bravado.
‘You are too funny for words Jess, I’d give up on this student business if I was you.’
‘Nah, I need a fallback in case either the comedy circuit doesn’t work out or you bankrupt yourself and I need to support us both.’ She leaned forwards. ‘And speaking of your riches, can I have an advance on my allowance? There is a wall of empty bookshelves downstairs, I MUST read everything on the course reading list and the university library is so far away.’ She hugged her knees and offered up a look of wide-eyed pleading. ‘I have fought way too hard to get on the course, I need to make sure I can keep up.’
Michael nodded and reached for his wallet to hand over his credit card, relieved that the conversation had moved away from his somnambulistic behaviour, grateful that Jess had been deeply asleep the night before when he had awoken disoriented and clawing at his own throat.
9th October
Jess jogged down the London Road through the centre of Reading, her compact rucksack bouncing against her back, her black and pink Nike trainers splashing through puddles as she headed home during a brief break in the rain. Her mind was on her studies, not on avoiding puddles, images of the design she planned to put together for her next project flashing through her brain.
She noticed a small crowd of people blocking the pavement fifty yards ahead and looked over her shoulder to check for approaching traffic, intending to skip off the pavement and into the road to avoid having to slow down for the crowd. The road was a constant stream of traffic however, cars and vans bumper to bumper, and Jess was forced to slow to a walk. She screwed up her nose and swore under her breath, cursing the unreasonably narrow pavements and missing the gloriously wide sidewalks she’d been used to in California.
‘What can be so exciting that everyone is stopping to gawp?’ She wondered aloud as she drew level with the crowd. ‘Oh!’ She broke into a grin as she saw the reason for the congestion. One of the shops that had been unused since before Jess and Michael had moved into the area had its door open. The entrance was blocked by a table on which reusable plastic espresso cups were lined up. Behind the table a young man was pouring out coffee into more of the little cups, and on the pavement another young man was calling people over to help themselves. Music, currently Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space”, was spilling out of the doorway.
‘Hi!’ Jess greeted the man on the street. ‘You’ve interrupted my run, so this better be good coffee, and it better be free!’
‘It is certainly good coffee my friend, but while it is free now, you’ll be paying for it in a few weeks when we open Coffee with a Kick and you’ll have no choice but to become a regular.’ He winked at Jess as he handed her a cup. ‘I am sorry for interrupting your exercise though, but I wouldn’t worry, the caffeine level in here will have you jittery for hours!’ He laughed loudly at his own joke before turning to another person who had joined the crowd.
‘Thank you.’ Jess downed the small quantity of espresso, noting the smoothness of the coffee as she swallowed. She nodded to herself and repeated her thanks to the man behind the table as she handed back the cup.
She threaded her way through the rest of the knot of people and was about to resume running when her eye was caught by a billboard outside the shop next to the new café, one of the little grocery stores that she had quickly come to recognise as a stalwart of the streets of the town.
****
‘Guess what bro?’ Jess burst into the lounge dropping her backpack and kicking her trainers back into the hall as she greeted her brother.
Michael closed his laptop and stared up at his sister, smiling. ‘Hi, I guess...you ran home?’
‘Well duh, obviously, but not much of a cause for my question.’ She scowled, her face flushed from her exertion, ‘play nice!’
Michael shrugged. ‘Hey, I have no idea what it could be. Do tell me what’s got you more hyper than normal?’
‘Its two things actually, so really you should be able to guess one of them, you know that’s probably statistically true?’
Michael scratched his head. Why can’t people be straightforward like computers, he thought, smiling at his sister. ‘I’m not sure you’re right there, Jess. But anyway, go on?’
‘OK, so, the first thing is awesome, the second one not so much. First thing, new café opening not far from here. And I had a free sample and it was yummy, and potent!’ Jess was bouncing on her heels as she spoke. ‘Second thing, definitely not yummy.’ She leaned in towards Michael, putting her mouth close to his ear before continuing in a hushed tone. ‘There are gangs here in little old Reading.’ She took a step back, folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you think we should move?’
‘Great to coffee, no to moving. What do you mean about gangs?’
