Page 6 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)

There was a slight, nerdy-looking man waiting for him when he returned to the dormitory. He had thin blond hair pulled back into a ratty-looking ponytail and was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and a white coat, a colour that seemed to be obligatory here.

“Ah, Mr Tyler.” The man smiled at him. “I’m C, the doctor.”

“Doctor C?” Alex snorted. “Earlier I met B. What is this place – Alphabet Mansion?”

The doctor gave a little chuckle. “We find it’s easier this way.”

“So I don’t learn your real names and use them against you when I get out?”

C looked surprised. “No, not at all. It’s just that you’re here to learn, not become attached to the staff.”

That was a strange reply, but Alex suspected he was going to find many things about this place strange, so he didn’t query it further.

The doctor was accompanied by a medibot, and he proceeded to oversee a medical exam that was both gentle and thorough.

“You’re underweight,” he said, glancing at the scale when Alex stepped on it. “Have you been fed adequately?”

“Yes,” Alex replied honestly, “I just haven’t had much appetite lately.”

“I see.” C frowned. “Will you eat for us here? We have a good chef.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Please do. You really are very malnourished at the moment. Let me know if you have any favourite dishes. Our chef will be happy to provide them for you. Now, please remove your bathrobe for me.”

Alex did as he was ordered, throwing the robe onto a nearby chair. C looked at him in shock, his astonished gaze travelling over Alex’s bruised and scarred body, his eyes full of sympathy as he took in his new patient’s poor condition.

“I see that you’re healing from a significant trauma. Are you in pain?” C asked, his fingers spidering gently over Alex’s back.

“A little. It’s better than it was, though.” That was an understatement, given how bad the beating had been.

“Well, take it easy. You have a little while before the new course begins. Use the time to recuperate. Be sure to rest, eat well, and take moderate exercise – daily walks will help. You’ll need to be fit for when your training begins.”

“Why?” Alex asked, studying the man’s face for clues as to what he could expect from his “training”.

“So that you can get the most from the course and learn as much as possible, obviously,” C replied, as if that was a stupid question.

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “There’s an extensive syllabus.

A does like to cram a lot into the course so that our houder clients can be satisfied that their servants have learned as much as possible. ”

“Right,” Alex said slowly. “So, this ‘A’… who is he – or she – exactly?”

“He’s the director. He runs this facility.”

“And when will I meet him?”

C shrugged. “He’s fairly busy.” He lowered his voice and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “To be honest, A only steps in when there’s a problem, so hopefully, you won’t need to meet him, if all goes well.” He gave an opaque smile.

“You sound scared of him. I take it he’s your boss, then, if he’s the director here?”

C looked startled. “Yes, he’s my boss. As for being scared of him – not at all. But he does expect and demand excellence from everyone, including himself. So, if I were you, I’d obey all the rules, study as hard as you can, and do your very best.”

“I’ve never been very good at obeying rules,” Alex murmured.

“Then you really should try.” C gave a little chuckle, and Alex wasn’t sure if that was some hidden warning or just C making general chit-chat.

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Excellent.” C gave a beaming smile and continued with the medical. “You can get dressed now,” he said when he was done. He gestured with his head to the wardrobe. “You’ll find fresh clothes in there every day for the duration of your stay.”

“How long will that be?” Alex asked, removing a pair of navy-blue trousers and a white tee-shirt from the wardrobe.

“However long it takes. A likes to be flexible, and your houder indicated that he didn’t mind how long you were here, as long as you learned everything that he required.”

“I see.” That didn’t sound good.

He found a pair of boxer shorts and some white socks in a compartment in the wardrobe, along with a pair of new white trainers in his size.

A plain navy-blue sweater and a thick yellow anorak were also hanging up, which at least made a change in terms of colour.

“A really likes white, doesn’t he?” He grinned.

C grinned back. “He thinks it keeps the body calm and the mind clear, and it illuminates the darkest recesses of the soul,” he said in a sing-song voice, as if it were a phrase he’d heard often.

“Now, meals are served in the refectory along the hallway. Just turn right on your way out of the dormitory. There’s a recreation room down there, too, if you wish to watch the screen, read, or listen to music.

There is a gym, but I suggest you don’t tackle that for the first week or so. You need to rest and recuperate.”

“Trust me, I don’t go to the gym unless I’m forced to.” Alex grimaced.

“Good. Well, I’ll visit you every day to see how you’re doing. So long for now.” C gave him a cheery wave and left.

Alex stood there, at a loss as to what to do. The idle days at Vertex Tower, chatting to Solange and Ted, seemed a very long time ago.

Finally, he decided to explore, and set off in search of the places C had mentioned.

The refectory was a medium-sized room containing half a dozen tables, each with six chairs arranged around them.

He wasn’t surprised to see that the walls, tables, and chairs were all white.

There was a bowl of fruit and a machine dispensing tea and coffee on a large table along the far wall.

He made himself a cup of tea and found a box with a selection of biscuits in it.

He helped himself to a couple and then wandered into the next room.

This one was filled with a variety of sofas and armchairs, but at least they weren’t white, which would have been impractical.

These were upholstered in comfy velvet and soft linen, in various shades of blue and yellow.

There was also a white table with six hard-backed chairs arranged around it.

A long, wide mirror took up all of one entire wall.

Alex wondered if the mysterious A liked looking at himself, or whether he hung so many huge mirrors everywhere because it increased the sense of light airiness in all the rooms. A clearly had a fondness for light airiness.

The heating was on and the recreation room was warm and welcoming.

There was a large screen on one wall, beneath which was a crowded bookcase.

Next to that was a wooden box crammed full of magazines.

Alex was surprised; most people read magazines on their nanopads.

However, some were still printed on paper for the very poor, who didn’t have access to devices.

Many houders bought them for their household indies to enjoy during a few rare hours off from their duties.

Alex sat on one of the sofas to drink his tea and rummaged through the wooden box, enjoying the novelty.

The magazines appeared to be a haphazard collection of old fitness magazines, gossip rags, and women’s weeklies.

They dated back several months and were in various states, ranging from tattered to relatively pristine.

He flicked through a few as he sipped his tea, feeling himself relax for the first time in months.

He was free of Tyler here, for now at least. It was only then that it hit him just how exhausted he was.

He ached down to his bones – so many months of living on adrenaline, followed by the terror of his escape and recapture, then that awful beating, and Solange’s sickening death.

He closed his eyes and wondered how Joe was doing.

Was he waking up from nightmares, screaming for Peter?

Did he spend his time taking that black dog on long, lonely walks?

He ached for Joe’s loss almost as much as if it had happened to him.

He recalled the dark weeks after his mother’s death, when he’d cried himself to sleep every night with her scarf under his pillow.

Did Joe still weep for Peter, or had his grief settled into a constant dull numbness, as it had for Alex?

He wished he could meet Joe again, although he had no idea what he’d say, or what use he’d be.

He was probably the last person Joe would want to see.

Why would he wish to be reminded of that terrible night?

He thought of Joe’s broad shoulders and his surprisingly elegant fingers.

He remembered how his cropped blond hair had looked from the back, when Alex had been sitting behind him in the car.

In another place and time, maybe Joe would have looked twice at him, the way most people did, but he’d only had eyes for Peter.

Their strong bond had shone out from their banter.

How would it feel to be in a relationship like that, and to be the focus of that kind of love?

He felt like an adolescent fantasising about an unobtainable crush. It was ridiculous, given both the circumstances in which they’d met and his current situation. He sank back on the sofa, giving himself up to sleep.

When he awoke, it was dark outside. He wandered into the refectory to find a menu on the table.

A small, dark-haired woman entered to take his order, identifying herself only as D.

She smiled at him furtively, as if she’d been forbidden to be nice to him.

A few minutes later, a plate of fish and chips was placed in front of him, reminding him of Barney Bates, the kindly truck driver who’d helped him.

It had only been a few short weeks ago but it felt like an aeon.

So much had happened since. He only managed half the meal, but it warmed him, and he patted his distended belly happily afterwards.