Indecipherable visions float above. I can see swirling colours in various shades of purple, blue and violet. The sound coming from the distance has receded into the background as if from far away nestled in the corners of the forest. Luminous sparks shower the night above the trees. Warning flares decorate the sky. Each rocket splays across the air above in an enigmatic display of bright lights and sparks. The next few days pass by in a blur. I flit in and out of consciousness shifting between the boundaries of dream and reality. Day fuses with night. Time ceases to exist. Among the collection of unintelligible memories and images emerging from the depths of my past, doctors appear and fade as an overwhelming fug of tranquilisers and barbiturates send me back into a comatose. Reality no longer exists beyond the reaches of what I experience. An empty room waits. I’m still confused. Can’t be sure of what day it is. It could be winter. I’ve seen the sun set on the horizon, the evening sky darken as it sunk into the ocean. Listen to birdsong fill the morning air as I slept underneath the protection of bed sheets and drugs. Day, time or place remains uncertain. The world beyond my imagination may or may not be real. What I experience could in effect be the life of another man. Without consciousness there is only a brief shifting between fiction and reality.
I can hear people talking nearby. As if they are on the periphery of my dream. I fight to stay awake, battling the effects of the drugs administered earlier that morning. Keeping my eyes open proves too much of a challenge. I listen carefully, straining to hear what they say. Muscles remain pinned to the mattress. I’m trapped by this paralysis beneath the sheets of my hospital bed. I am only beginning to learn what my reason for being here truly is.
‘Have you got the files?’ a man asks.
‘Have them right here. What do you need these for anyway? It’s not as if he’s going anywhere.’
‘We can’t take any risks. He’s too much of a threat.’
‘What if someone notices?’
‘No-one will notice. He came here alone, he leaves here alone.’
‘But what if someone does? It’s not as if he’s exactly unnoticeable. He’s one of the leaders for God sake.’
A brief silence ensues. I can hear the dull hum of machines in the background. A metronomic beep resonates about the room. Their breaths are barely audible above the constant thrumming of medical equipment working at my bedside. I would give anything to see what they are doing.
‘Look. If we’re going to do this we’ve got to do this right. There’s no point stalling any longer.’
‘What about the guards?’
‘Never mind them. There’s always alternatives. We have to act quick. You have the equipment?’
‘Have it right here.’
I can’t be sure if I’m still dreaming. This episode could be an effect from the drugs. This feels too real to be a dream.
‘We can’t do this. What if my suspicions are right? What then?’
‘Then we follow the procedure as planned. Take no notice.’
I can hear a faint scuffle. Velcro being ripped apart. My breath quickens. I’m fighting to stay awake. The potent solutions running through my veins begin to take hold.
‘Take his arm,’ one the men whispers.
‘I can’t. Stick to the plan. Remember, as we agreed.’
I can feel cold fingers wrap around my bicep.
‘What if someone sees us?’
‘They won’t. Wrap him in the blanket. He’s out cold. He’s in a coma for Christ sake.’
‘Someone’s going to notice he’s gone.’
The fingers release their grip dropping my arm to the mattress.
‘Look, I’ve explained this to you already. Give him the drug.’
A dart of adrenaline shoots through my abdomen. I can feel sweat pump out of my temple. I recognise the voice. The timbre and rhythm sounds recognisable. I’ve heard his voice somewhere before.
‘What are you waiting for? Give him the drug.’
I want to escape. Break free from these reigns. I can’t. I’m locked into position. Each sinew of my musculature remains rigid.
‘You’d better not screw this up.’
‘Me? How do expect me to screw this up? How he’s still alive is the problem. He shouldn’t be here in the first place.’
‘We can’t clear up the mistakes others have made. Just get on with it.’
Mistakes they’ve made? What are they talking about? I search the gaps in my memory for any hint of the past. It remains a blank. I listen carefully as their footsteps echo about the room. A door creaks. It slams shut. I can hear keys locking us in. Fingers grapple around my upper arm. I can feel them fiddling with the syringe embedded underneath the skin. They’re putting something into my IV. I know it. I can tell. Whatever I’ve done they want to make amends.
‘What’s taking so long?’ the man whispers.
‘It’s the drug. You brought the wrong one.’
I can feel one of the men shoving me onto my side. I collapse onto my chest. The force of the weight shoves the syringe deep into my skin. It feels as if it is digging through the bone. Blood seeps out of the incision staining the cotton hospital gown covering my torso.
‘Look what you’ve done. Get him onto his back. No trace, remember.’
I can feel hands grapple my underside. With a forceful tug I collapse onto my back. The pool of liquid spreads around my upper arm. I’m bleeding. I can’t see it, can’t stop it. I can feel it, picturing the scarlet pigment leaking out of my body and onto the sheets. Lose more and more blood as pain darts through my upper arm.
‘What did I tell you? No cuts. No incisions. You’ve ruined it.’
‘Quick. Get him into the sheet.’
I can hear rustling plastic at my side.
‘The sheet. Push him onto the ground.’
‘That wasn’t part of the plan.’
‘Making him bleed all over the bed wasn’t either. You have a better way of doing this? Now shove him.’
A succession of loud knocks resonates throughout the room. Somebody is banging on the door.
‘Shit.’ the man curses.
A deathly silence descends. I can hear my own breath.
‘Get him onto the floor, now.’
My body collapses to the ground. The impact sends shockwaves through my shoulder. The syringe rips out of my arm. Blood pulsates out of the skin pumping like a fountain over my skin covering me in warm liquid. A series of metal objects clatters to the floor. The pounding rattles the doorframe.
‘Open this door,’ a woman’s voice shouts.
‘Wrap him up, quick.’
‘We can’t get out.’
Their collective breaths quicken as footsteps shuffle from left to right around the edge of the bed. I feel hands grapple at my limbs tugging and pulling me apart at the seams. Moments later, my legs lift up into the air underneath the bed sheet.
‘The window.’ the man grunts.
Their hands grapple my shoulders, heaving and moving through the dark. Another succession of knocks echoes around the room.
‘Who’s in there?’ the woman shouts, her voice muffled by the doorframe.
‘Take care of that will you?’ one of the men says.
I can hear every word, each syllable is crystal clear.
The man fiddles with the lock. To my right, I can hear him open the door. The woman’s voice is cut off followed by a dull thud. A sickening clunk of limbs falls to the floor. I know what happened. The door swings shut once more. Locked and sealed, cut off from the outside world.
‘I told you. No unnecessary attacks.’
‘How was that not necessary?’
I can hear a rummaging around me.
‘Right. Grab his legs.’
I can hear the window slide open. The man pulls the frame apart. A chilling breeze sweeps in. They must have cut the bars.
‘Now’s our chance.’
My body lurches with their movements swaying through the air back and forth like a swing. I’m unable to fight back. Am I dreaming? This is too real to be a dream. The men release their grip of my ankle and wrists as a fierce gust of wind hits me like a truck. I clatter onto the ground with a thump. What’s happening? A dull ache traverses my shoulder. An excruciating sensation runs the length of my side. I pass out from the pain.
A gradual shift rocks my body back and forth. Ice cold air fills my lungs as I fall in and out of consciousness. ‘Where am I?’ Everything is so confusing. My eyes search the gloom. A dull ache centres on my midsection. Mouth is dry as cotton. Eyes snapped shut. I can hear an engine chug in the night air as water laps against the side of the boat.
‘Is he still alive?’ a gruff voice asks.
‘How should I know? Do we have to keep him alive?’
‘Better that than dead. We don’t want to bring a carcass to him now do we?’
‘Where did they find him in the end?’
‘How should I know? We’re not supposed to ask questions. Just do your job and that’s that. He could be the princess of Narnia for all I care. Doesn’t affect what I earn.’
‘What do you earn by the way?’
‘And why would I tell you that?’
‘Just asking.’
Am I still in hospital? A biting wind cuts through my skin into my bones.
‘What did you get for taking him?’
‘What makes you think I’m going to tell you that?’
‘Come on, not as if he’s worth that much. Look at him. Just a bag of bones. Probably just another routine body.’
‘He’s still breathing.’
‘Well obviously, I know that. Not as if that somehow escaped me. Just saying, don’t think he’ll last very long, do you?’
‘You’d never know. Could be one of those speciality victims. Do ones you read about in the newspaper columns. We could be shipping someone very important indeed.’
‘Did the man give you the drugs?’
I can hear plastic rustling next to my ears.
‘Have them right here.’
‘What did you get this time? Some morphine? Tranquilisers?’
The wind dies down.
‘Can’t read the label. Some purple solution, I think.’
‘Right. Wouldn’t have an idea what that stuff could be. God knows what they have him on. Would he be like the rest do you think? Pass out the minute we set him down?’
‘Wouldn’t say so. Looks as if he’s already well passed out from what I can tell.’
‘How long has he been in for?’
My ears prick up in anticipation.
‘Can’t be sure. With coma victims, anything from three to five years. Maybe more.’
Three to five years? How could I have been out for that long? What happened to me?
‘Why do you think they kept him alive that long?’
‘Beats me. Must be special. If I was in a coma, I know how long I’d be kept alive for.’
The men start to laugh. I can hear the man closest to me rustling a piece of paper next to my ear.
‘From what it says here, looks as if we’re headed to Devenue’s Port.’
‘Devenue’s? Why does he want to bring him there?’
‘That’s what it says here in black and white.’
‘Let me see that.’
The other man snatches the page off the other. I listen as gulls caw overhead. I must be at sea.
‘You’re right, Devenue’s. Must be a special case if that’s where they’re sending him. The other one’s usually end up in Constanato’s. Where do they get them from?’
‘The hospital. He’s an unusual one though. He’s not awake.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Yes, but one thing you haven’t noticed is, he’s not tied or bound by anything. Why do you think that is?’
‘What would he need to be bound for? He’s practically stupefied.’
‘So are a lot of the other ones. Look. All I’m saying is. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye with this man. Could be something special. Different port, different procedure. Never received so much paraphernalia this big with one batch of skin and bones before.’
‘You’re right. Usually it’s no more than a barcode and that’s them ready for transport.’
Their conversation continues. Each word they speak I pray somehow one of them will blurt out my name. Air rushes out of my parted lips as I try to speak.
‘When will we get there?’
‘Another couple of hours or so. Should see us there with plenty of time to spare.’
‘Wish this thing would hurry up. Taking forever.’
‘We’ll make sure he’s back in time for breakfast.’
‘By the looks of it, he won’t be having much.’
‘Let’s just get him there and see how much he’s going for. I’m due payment soon enough.’
The men start to laugh. A succession of chuckling echoes into the sky above. Their voices fade into the background. It could be day or night. I’m unsure how I’m still alive. I can feel and hear all that is around me. I cannot move, cannot speak, cannot see. Under the overwhelming potency of drugs I cannot remain awake any longer. Slowly their voices fade into the night sky as fatigue sets in. I haven’t found my answer.