Dead Like You

spot any intruder, he noticed that No. 17, which had been dead when he had started his shift, was still not showing any images. It was the old Shoreham cement works, where his dad had been a driver.
    He pressed the control toggle to change the image on the screen, in case it was just one of the twenty-six CCTV cameras that was on the blink. But the screen remained blank. He picked up the phone and dialled the night engineer.
    ‘Hi, Ray. It’s Dunstan in Monitor Room 2. I’ve not had any image on screen 17 since I started my shift.’
    ‘Mr Starling’s instruction,’ the engineer replied. ‘The client hasn’t paid his bill. Over four months now apparently. Mr Starling’s suspended the service. Don’t worry about it.’
    ‘Right, thanks,’ Dunstan Christmas said. ‘I won’t.’
    He ate some more Doritos.

100
    Saturday 17 January
    A terrible pain, like a vice crushing her head, woke Jessie. For an instant, utterly disoriented, she had no idea where she was.
    In Benedict’s room?
    She felt all muzzy and queasy. What had happened last night? What had happened at the dinner dance? Had she got drunk?
    She felt a crashing jolt. There was a constant whooshing sound beneath her. She could hear the steady blatter of an engine. Was she in a plane?
    Her queasiness deepened. She was close to throwing up.
    Another jolt, then another. There was a banging sound like a loose door. Fear squirmed through her. Something felt very wrong; something terrible had happened. As she became more conscious, her memory trickled back, reluctantly, as if something was trying to hold it at bay.
    She couldn’t move her arms or her legs. Her fear deepened. She was lying face down on something hard and constantly jolting. Her nose was bunged up and she was finding it harder and harder to breathe. She tried, desperately, to breathe in though her mouth, but something was clamped over it and no air would come through. She couldn’t breathe through her nose now either. She tried to cry out but just heard a dull moan and felt her mouth reverberating.
    Panicking, juddering, fighting for breath, she sniffed harder. She could not get enough air in through her nose to fill her lungs. She squirmed, moaned, twisted on to her side, then on to her back, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing, fighting for air, close to blacking out. Then, after a few moments of lying on her back, the blockage freed a little and more air came in. Her panic subsided a little. She took several long, deep breaths, calming a fraction, then tried to call out again. But the sounds stayed trapped in her mouth and gullet.
    Bright lights lit up the darkness for an instant and she could see above her the roof of the vehicle. Then darkness again.
    Another bright light and she saw a hunched figure in the driver’s seat, just shoulders and the back of a baseball cap. The light passed and was instantly replaced by another. Headlights of oncoming cars, she realized.
    Suddenly there were bright lights to her right, as a vehicle overtook them. For a fleeting instant she saw part of his face reflected in the interior mirror. She froze in terror. It was still masked by the black hood.
    His eyes were on her.
    ‘Just lie back and enjoy the ride!’ he said in a bland, small voice.
    She tried to speak again, struggling once more to move her arms. They were behind her back, her wrists clamped together. There was no slack, nothing to get a purchase on. She tried to move her legs, but they felt as if they had been welded together at the ankles and knees.
    What time was it? How long had she been here? How long since…
    She should be at the dinner dance. Benedict was going to meet her parents. He was coming round to pick her up. What was he thinking now? Doing now? Was he standing outside her flat ringing the bell? Phoning her? As headlights again brightened the interior, she looked around. Saw what seemed to be a small kitchen unit; one cupboard door was swinging, banging but not closing. Now they were slowing down. She heard him change gear, heard an indicator click-clicking.
    Her fear deepened even more. Where were they going?
    Then she heard a siren wailing, faintly at first, then louder. It was behind them. Now louder still! And suddenly her spirits soared. Yes! Benedict had come round to collect her and called the police when he realized she wasn’t there. They were coming! She was safe. Oh, thank God! Thank God!
    Shards of blue light, as if from a shattered chandelier, flooded the interior