Soul Storm (10 page)

‘Before you ask, I’m still not quite there with the Fixing Alice research. Irons in the fire, but none of them glowing.’ Lewis is talking incredibly fast, but he hasn’t
looked at me once since he’s let me in.

He
has
had second thoughts. Even though I’d considered the possibility, I couldn’t imagine it happening. He’s always been so loyal and kind.

This time you pushed him too far, didn’t you, Alice?

It’s over. Without Lewis to tease me and reassure me, I don’t know if I can carry on. I feel dizzy.

‘Maybe . . . if you don’t want me here, I can go. I drove, anyway, so—’

He turns back towards me. ‘Eh? What are you going on about? Did I
say
I didn’t want you here? Forgive me if my manners aren’t as gentlemanly as they usually are; I had
a rough night. But, Ali—’

I look away. I can’t let him see I’m on the edge of tears.

Too late.

‘Hey. What is it? Has something happened?’ He comes closer, touches my arm. His fingers are warm against my skin but I’m cold with fear.

‘No.’

‘It’s not because I’m grouchy, is it? After everything you’ve had to deal with, don’t say it’s grumpy old Lewis who’s tipped you over the
edge?’

‘You think I’m crazy, don’t you? You’re trying to find a way to tell me to go.’ The harder I try not to weep, the more choked I get. And I’m not a crier, not
usually.

‘What?’ Then he slaps his own forehead – too hard, judging from his pained expression. ‘Bloody hell, Ali. No. That’s not what it’s about. I had everything go
wrong on me with some stupid project overnight and I’m sulking. Nothing to do with you.’

That’s all it takes for me to believe him. Instincts aren’t only about negative stuff, like Sahara being dangerous. They’re also about who you can trust.

I want to change the subject away from my own paranoia. ‘Tell me about what went wrong. Lewis. We’re always talking about me.’

I don’t know nearly enough about what Lewis does, though I know his heart’s not really in his day job. He only does the boring projects to fund some kind of Robin Hood style campaign
against hackers. Perhaps he needs someone to confide in too.

‘Ali, you don’t want to know. Too tedious. Let’s lighten up, shall we? You’re banned from the web, but I’ve got every video game you can think of. Not just the
shoot-’em-ups, either. Some girly ones, too. We could Zumba. Build a virtual zoo.’

Banned from the web.
I’d hoped I might be able to talk him round, but I get the impression it’s not a good time to push him.

‘I’m not that into games. I haven’t had time lately . . . what with the Beach and everything.’ I try to smile and he smiles back. ‘Oh, before we do anything else,
you need to call my mum, please – to tell her I’m here and I’m not up to no good.’

He whistles. ‘Like
that,
is it? Surprised she hasn’t fitted you with an electronic tag.’

‘Whatever you do, don’t suggest it. I bet they sell them on Amazon.’

I hand him my phone, already calling Mum’s number.

‘Mrs Forster. Lewis here. Just checking in, to tell you your daughter’s safe and well . . . Yes, absolutely . . . We thought a country walk might be in order. Maybe to a nice country
pub. No . . . Ha ha, don’t worry, I won’t let her drink during the day. Same to you, too. Bye for now.’

He hands the phone back. ‘How was that? Reassuring enough?’

‘Perfect.’

‘In which case, Ali, shall we work out what we’re
really
going to do?’

We
do
go for a walk, by the river.

‘Ugh! The great outdoors. I can’t take any more,’ Lewis says. He threw himself under the shower before we came out and now he looks like his old self again, sleek and geeky at
the same time. I waited on the sofa, staring at his three high-def. monitors. I had to sit on my hands so I wouldn’t rush over to log on to the Beach.

‘Daylight must be quite a shock for a hermit like you, Professor.’

We stop on the bridge, looking over at the weir. Water crashes down angrily but by the time it gets to where the little boats are moored, it’s calm again, so the
Mallard
and the
Port Out Starboard Home
bob as gently as toys in the bath. The sky is a very English blue; we could be in a kids’ cartoon world.

‘How are you feeling, Ali?’ Unlike everyone else who asks that question, he really wants to know.

‘Up and down. Right now, I’m good. But the rest of it . . . being offline. Not hearing from you.’

‘I didn’t want to call till I had something definite to tell you.’

I gulp. ‘So you don’t know how you’re going to fix me?’

Lewis turns to me. ‘I just don’t want to get your hopes up.’

‘Trouble is, Lewis, I’ve nothing else to feel hopeful about. My summer holidays involve nothing but therapy sessions with a guy who wants to enslave me in his bereavement
cult.’

He laughs. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for that blank look in your eyes. Or if you start wearing cheesecloth and getting your hair crimped. Sure signs of cult membership.’

‘Seriously. I could do with something to believe in. Anything.’

Lewis nods. ‘I get that. OK, well, I’m looking into brain scanning.’

‘To check I’ve got one?’

‘It’s a little more sophisticated than
that
.’

‘Sorry. Go on.’

‘The thing about scanning is it can show which parts of the brain are being used when we’re doing different things: the pleasure zones, the Stone Age instinctive parts, the visual or
imaginative areas. My theory is we can use the same tools to find out if what you’re seeing is really there or if it’s . . . well, if it’s a delusion.’

Delusion.
The word is frightening, though it’s not the first time I’ve been scared I might be going crazy. But I
must
know one way or the other. ‘That’s
possible?’

‘The truth is, I don’t know. I’ve been making contacts, finding out where the UK facilities are. Obviously, most of the sophisticated scanners are in hospitals but it’s
harder to sneak you into those. So I’m looking at commercial companies, games research labs, that kind of thing. These are seriously expensive bits of kit, you see. And I also need to find
the right kind of person to analyse the results.’

I nod. ‘But if you do find someone . . . it could change everything.’

‘Yup. Or nothing. But, you know, Ali, there is another, simpler way.’

‘What?’

‘I could try visiting Soul Beach myself.’

I shiver, no longer feeling any warmth from the sun.

‘No. No, you can’t.’

Lewis frowns. ‘Why not?’

‘Because . . .’ Reasons flood my brain, faster and more urgent than the water on the weir. ‘Because it’s wrong. I’m sure the rules won’t allow it. Because I
bet you wouldn’t see it anyway.’

‘In which case, there’d be no harm done,’ he says gently.

‘No! You don’t understand, Lewis. It’s too big a risk. I could be banned like that,’ I snap my fingers, ‘for good. And then where would I be?’

His face is unreadable. Does he not believe me? ‘It has to end somehow, Ali, unless you’re going to carry on living this double life forever.’

‘Maybe. But not yet. I’m not ready. Letting someone else see, it would be . . . unnatural. You can’t do it. I won’t let you try.’

‘OK. OK.’ He places his hand on mine. ‘I’m sorry I even suggested it, then. I only thought it might be the fastest way to get an answer. The last thing I wanted was to
upset you. We’re in this together, right?’

I nod. Yet already I’m plotting. Will he let me go online on my own, or is that going to make him cross?

He squeezes my hand. ‘Can I say something else? Something important.’

‘I guess.’

‘If I can organise a lab, then we’ll scan you while you’re online on the Beach, to see which parts of your brain are most stimulated by it.’

‘Right.’ I’m picturing electrodes, electric chairs, mad boffins. ‘It won’t hurt, will it?’

‘No, no. It’s noisy but not invasive. But there is one thing you can do, to prepare and get the clearest results. From what I’ve read, it’s recommended that subjects
avoid similar stimulus in the days leading up to the research.’

Subjects? Stimulus?
It takes a moment for me to work out what he’s talking about. ‘Oh. You mean, I shouldn’t go online before it happens.’

‘Right. I mean, you’re not supposed to be online anyway, while you’re being “treated” by this Olav character, but I know you, Ali. You’re
determined.’

‘Do you really think it’ll make a difference to the results?’

‘It’s uncharted territory. There’ve been no experiments like yours because, obviously, this situation is unique. But it’s like any addiction – the craving for it,
and the response once it’s available again is bound to be intensified by a wait.’

We step down from the bridge and head for the bank opposite the lock gates, where there’s a queue of families waiting to buy ice creams from a kiosk.

Addiction.
Am I addicted to the Beach? The same way my mum’s addicted to therapy and Cara can’t stop herself chasing bad boys?

And Meggie was addicted to being centre-stage?

It’s not quite so clear-cut in my case. At least the others involve human contact, whereas the Beach . . .

‘Do you think . . . it’ll be a long wait?’ I ask.

He looks at me. ‘I hope not.’

I nod. ‘OK, then. It seems like the best chance of understanding. So I’ll do it. I’ll stay away. Except . . .’

‘What?’

‘Let me go there today.
Please
.’

‘Online?’

‘To the Beach. For the last time before the experiment. Please? It’s been six days offline now.
Six.
Meggie and—’ I’m about to say Danny’s name, but
I stop myself. I don’t want Lewis to know about him, ‘and the other Guests will be worried. Scared something awful’s happened. All I have to do is go for a minute or two, let them
know I’m OK.’

Lewis keeps walking, slowly, staring into the river water.

‘You
are
addicted to it, aren’t you? Your mother would kill me.’

‘She doesn’t need to know. It’s just once. Then I promise I’ll go cold turkey.’

He smiles at the joke, then sighs. ‘How come you
always
manage to persuade me to let you do what you want, Ali? I’m such a pushover where you’re concerned.’

For some reason, that makes me blush. ‘Thanks.’

‘One condition.’

I wait for some other awful demand, except I can’t think of anything that will make my life duller or tougher than it is right now.

‘You buy me an ice cream.’ He nods towards the van. ‘I think this is a two-scoops kinda favour.’

And I laugh, because Lewis always knows the right thing to say. ‘Two scoops
and
a chocolate flake,’ I tell him. ‘Because you’re worth it, Professor
Tomlinson.’

I sit down in front of the middle one of the bank of screens. The largest one.

Lewis has taken his spare laptop – actually, he’s got
three
spare laptops – into his bedroom and closed the door to give me some privacy. But he has set an alarm to
remind me that this
must
be the briefest of visits.

I log into my email, find the original invitation that’s my only gateway to the Beach, click on the link.

Because it’s been so long, I’m scared. I hold my breath while I wait for the place – the only place I can truly be myself – to appear. I just never know if . . .

It’s there.
I breathe again and feel the warmth of the sun on my face.

Danny and Meggie and Tim are stretched out on the sand, as though they haven’t moved since I was last here, six days ago.

My sister jumps up when she sees me, and gives me a hug. The vision of the black gloves and the white pillow is so fleeting it only registers because I was expecting it. What I
do
feel
is the softness of her breath against my cheek, the thump of her heart against my chest.

Addictive?
You bet.

‘You’ve been
naughty
, baby sister! Too busy with your real life to come and hang out with us nobodies.’ She smiles, but I can tell she’s been worried.

‘You don’t want to know why, Meggie, but I’m here now.’

Tim gives me a half-wave, then gets up and walks away. He started this whole ‘Alice shouldn’t be on the Beach’ discussion. Does he have a hidden agenda? With me out of the way,
there’d be no competition for my sister’s attention.

Or might he even be afraid I’m going to find out he was the killer after all? No, I ruled him out months ago.

Meggie follows him with her eyes, but stays next to me. ‘Don’t judge him too harshly, Florrie. He cares about what happens to you. And he didn’t exactly have the easiest time
of it when he was living, being hounded by the press and police. Whereas at least I died when I was at my happiest.’

Even though you were being stalked?
I need to find some way of prompting her to tell me more, without getting banned, but Danny’s already putting his arm around my waist and
nuzzling my neck.

It would be so easy to melt into the embrace, to let the kiss be all that matters.

And yet, Danny’s own words come back to me again:
I don’t have anything to offer you except this, and this is not enough.

‘Missed you, Alice,’ he says.

‘Missed you too.’

Meggie tuts fondly. ‘I won’t interrupt this touching reunion.’

Before I can stop her, she’s heading off after Tim. I should follow her. It can’t be long till the alarm goes off and I have to leave the Beach indefinitely.

Danny will understand, surely, that I have to prioritise. That affection has to take second place to justice and finding out the truth at last.

‘Hey,’ says Danny, ‘what’s with the frowning? Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me.’

‘Oh, I am.’ And as he holds me tight, I know I’m not ready to break away from him yet.

Does that mean I will be one day?

‘Danny,’ I whisper. ‘There are things happening. Things that might keep me away from the Beach for a time.’