After the Cabin Page 13

  “I'm sorry,” I stammer, trying to stay calm as I plug the drive in. “Really, I swear. I just have to know.”

  Getting to work, I locate the archive footage for the day when Matt went missing. Part of me expects to find that the footage in question is missing, but to my relief I find that no-one has tampered with the drive at all. I sit and watch through the black-and-white images on triple-speed until finally I spot Matt emerging from the front of the hotel, talking to someone on his phone. This footage isn't so useful in itself, but the time and date information will allow me to work out which cameras should have picked him up next. It takes a while, but eventually I locate another hard drive and pull up the footage from a CCTV camera near the bus station, and sure enough I'm able to see Matt wandering along on the day of his disappearance, still talking on his phone.

  There are thirty-two monitors on the wall, and I think I'm going to need them all. It's like putting together a vast, constantly-changing jigsaw puzzle of moving images.

  I work like this for hours, jumping from one camera to another, following him about town as he drops by a couple of shops and eventually starts wandering home. He spends some time waiting for a bus on Maitland Street, but eventually he seems to change his mind and he starts wandering toward the train station. He takes a couple of detours along the way and I lose him once or twice, but through a process of elimination I manage to pick him up again each time. Checking my watch at one point, I see that it's almost 3am, but I keep going, occasionally having to go back into the storage room and grab more drives. I know I should call someone about Freddie, but I can't trust the police so I figure I just have to keep working. Once I've figured all of this out, I'll be able to make everyone understand what's really happening.

  Eventually, I see a shot of Matt getting into a car. I don't see who's driving, but I get a clear shot of the number-plate and I'm able to follow the car as it heads away from the town center. I don't have access to the town's traffic cameras, but I can still make do with images that show streets in the background, even if this approach is slower. Eventually I realize that the car is getting closer to the industrial estate, and finally I watch as it pulls up outside a large building in a deserted area. I don't have a very good shot this time, but I can tell that Matt gets out of the car with the driver, and then they head into the building. I keep watching, biting my nails to the quick, but several hours pass at triple-speed before the driver – whose face I can't make out at all – emerges from the building and drives away.

  I keep scrolling through the footage, but still Matt doesn't come out of the building. The car comes back a few times, and the same indistinct, pixellated figure goes in and out, but Matt seems to still be in there. Eventually I look at the time-stamp and see that it's well past the time when he went missing.

  “He's in there,” I whisper, staring at the footage of the building, as the mysterious visitor emerges and once again drives away. I rewind and lean closer to the screen, trying desperately to work out whether I recognize the visitor, but the image is way too distant and blocky. I keep watching for a while, but there's still no sign of Matt.

  I need to call someone.

  I need to get help, but there's no-one left to trust. Finally I realize that as insane as it sounds, I have to uncover the truth myself.

  ***

  There's no car outside the building when I finally get there a few hours later, shortly before sunrise. The industrial estate is mostly shrouded in darkness, with just a few lights here and there to illuminate doors. From what I saw on the footage, the only person who ever goes in or out of the building at the far end of the row is the same person who comes in the car, so I figure the coast should be clear right now.

  I glance over my shoulder, but there's definitely no-one following me. Out here, beyond the edge of town, I'd definitely see if I was being watched. At least, that's what I tell myself.

  I make my way quickly over to the door at the corner. When I try the handle, I find to my surprise that the place isn't locked, so I quickly slip inside. My heart is pounding and I know I'm putting myself in danger, but I also know that I don't have an alternative. If I call the police, Bryson will find me, and right now I feel as if every possible contact is compromised. Even my own mother might have turned against me. I just need to get an idea of what's happening here, and besides, I've got a can of mace spray as well as a wrench that I picked up while I was leaving the surveillance company's office. Unless someone pulls a gun on me, I'm pretty damn confident I can look after myself.

  It's not like I have any choice. I have to know what's really happening.

  Making sure to stay as quiet as possible, I look along the dark corridor, with just a solitary light in the ceiling to show the way. Once I'm certain that there's no sign of anyone, and that there don't seem to be cameras around, I make my way cautiously toward the steps at the far end, and then I look down into the darkness that I guess leads to some kind of basement. Standing like this at the top of a set of steps, I can't help thinking back to the wooden steps that I found in the cabin. When I went down those three years ago, I ended up being dragged into a nightmare, but I force myself to remember that it's different this time. For one thing, I'm not the same naive, trusting girl, and for another, I'm more than capable of fighting back. Besides, if I turn around now, I have nowhere else to go.

  I'm so close to the truth.

  When I reach the bottom of the steps, I find myself in a dark room, unable to see anything except a faint glow of light at the far end, seemingly coming from another room. Reaching out, I manage to find the wall and I start edging through the darkness, but I stop after a few paces when I realize I can hear the faintest scuffling sound coming from up ahead. I tell myself that I'm just imagining it, that there's probably no-one here and I've misjudged the entire situation, but once I start walking again I'm able to hear the scuffling sound more clearly. Whatever it is, it's just around the next corner, in another room and -

  Suddenly I stop as I see a camera on a tripod, set up near the door and pointing further into the room. There's a red light on the side, and even from here I can tell that there's an image flashing across the viewfinder. My chest feels so tight, I actually might have a heart attack, but after taking the can of mace spray from my pocket I edge forward, prepared to defend myself at any moment. I almost expect the camera to suddenly disappear, for it to be another hallucination, but with every step it seems more real. Finally I get to the doorway and look through.

  And that's when I see them.

  Karen and Matt have been tied naked to two back-to-back chairs, bound with thick ropes. They're both bloodied and cut, as if they've been tortured already, and Karen is clearly in a much worse state than Matt, with her head dropping down. The scrabbling sound is coming from Matt, as he desperately tries to get free from the ropes, but after a moment he stops as soon as he sees me.

  With a thick gag covering his mouth, he tries to call out, mumbling desperately as his eyes widen with fear.

  I freeze for a moment, as if every thought has rushed out of my mind.

  This isn't real.

  It has to be another hallucination.

  Matt is still trying to say something, and he's jerking the chair with such force that I can hear the wood starting to split.

  Stepping forward, I'm shocked by the wounds all over his body. There are thick cuts running across his chest and down onto his abdomen, along with what looks like a burn mark on his penis. Karen, meanwhile, has some kind of hole drilled through her left shoulder, while her entire chest is criss-crossed by cuts and strips of ragged skin. Her injuries look so much like mine from three years ago, it's almost as if someone has been deliberately recreating the whole thing.

  Matt's voice gets even louder as he tries to shout something at me, but the gag is too tight.

  “I'll get you out of here,” I stammer finally, “I...”

  After checking over my shoulder to make sure that there's no-one behind me, I hurry to th
e pile of tools in the corner and quickly find a pair of garden shears. Running back over to the chairs, I kneel next to Karen and start cutting through her ropes.

  “Can you hear me?” I ask, looking up into her drowsy face. “Karen, say something!”

  Her eyes flicker open and she stares at me with a blank expression. Unlike Matt, she doesn't have a gag over her mouth, and after a moment her lips twitch slightly. She's trying to say something, but she's clearly too weak.

  “It's okay,” I continue, my mind racing as I try to work out how I'll get them both out of here. “Can you stand? Do you think you can walk out with me?”

  As soon as the ropes are free, Karen slumps forward, but I manage to catch her naked, bloodied body in time. She leans all her weight against me as I gently lower her to the floor. Behind me, Matt is still desperately trying to say something through the gag, but for a moment all I can do is check Karen's pulse and then stare at the horrific injuries all over her body. Already, my hands are covered in her blood.

  “I'll carry you,” I tell her finally, as she lets out a pained gasp and her eyes close. “I'll cut Matt loose and then I'll carry you out.”

  Shuffling over to the other chair, I start digging the shears under the next set of ropes so I can get Matt free.

  “It's okay,” I tell him, “we'll get out of here, we'll get help!”

  He's still trying to speak, so I take a moment to cut the gag away.

  “Matt,” I continue, “we -”

  “Don't let her go!” he screams. “Don't cut her ropes!”

  “What?” I pause for a moment, before hearing a bumping sound nearby. I turn, just in time to see Karen towering above me. She brings the handle of an ax slamming down against my face. I hear a heavy cracking sound. By the time I hit the floor, I'm already unconscious.

  Fifteen

  “Anna?” a voice whispers, as if from nowhere, breaking the silence of my non-existent dreams. “Anna Matthews, can you hear me? Anna?”

  Someone touches my shoulder. Just a gentle nudge.

  “Anna?”

  I force my eyes open, and to my surprise I find that I'm a large, bright, high-ceilinged room, with a nurse leaning over me. The scene is so surreal and unexpected, and I genuinely don't remember how I got here.

  “Can you hear me, Anna?” she asks.

  “I -” As soon as I try to speak, I feel a sharp, scratchy pain in my throat.

  “You should drink something,” she continues, holding a cup against my lips. As soon as she tips the cup toward me, I feel cold water running into my mouth, and I swear it's the greatest sensation I've ever experienced. Swallowing is painful, of course, but I swear it's almost as if my entire body is shriveled and dry, and I can almost feel the water re-hydrating me as it runs down my throat. I try to reach up, to take the cup myself, but my arms are too heavy.

  Once the cup is empty, she sets it aside.

  “More,” I gasp.

  “Okay, hold on.”

  I hear her re-filling the cup. When I try to move, however, I feel something pressing against my chest, holding me down onto the bed, and there seems to be something around my wrists and ankles as well.

  “What...” I whisper. “How...” As soon as the cup touches my lips, I drink again. I swallow the water gladly, letting out a gasp once I'm done. “Where am I?” I ask, as I try desperately to remember how I got here.

  “You're at Middleton Cross hospital,” she explains with a faint smile. “It's okay, Anna, you're being looked after.”

  “But -”

  Middleton Cross?

  Why am I back here?

  Suddenly I remember the sight of Karen towering over me, naked and bleeding. She swung something at my face, slamming it into my head and -

  “Matt?” I whisper, trying again to sit up but still finding myself strapped to the bed. “Where's Matt? Where's Karen? Are they okay?”

  “Someone will be along shortly to speak to you,” the nurse replies. “Now that you're awake... Well, don't worry about that right now.”

  “What happened?” I ask, looking down and seeing thick leather restraints holding me in place. I try to pull against them, but the sharp edges immediately dig into my skin. Unlike the restraints I remember from the cabin, these feel so firm and professional. “Why am I like this? What are you doing to me?”

  “We're not doing anything to you,” she continues. “Some police officers will be along soon and they'll explain everything. For now, you need to focus on drinking plenty of fluid, and you need to get some rest.” She pauses, with a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “You've been so much and... Well, I shouldn't say anything. I think the officers are already on their way, we called them about an hour ago when you first showed signs of waking up.”

  “Why are they coming?” I ask, trying not to panic. “What's happening? Where are Karen and Matt?”

  “I'll get you some more water,” she replies evasively, turning to walk away. This time, she doesn't go to the sink in the corner; instead, she heads out of the room.

  “Where are they?” I shout, trying desperately to get up. “Why are the police coming? What's happening to me?”

  ***

  “Do you understand the charges?” the officer asks calmly as he and his colleague stand next to my bed. He waits for a moment, before turning to the lawyer who arrived with them. “Can you explain?”

  “Anna,” the lawyer says, stepping closer, “do you understand the charges that were just read out to you?”

  Staring at him, I feel tears running down my cheeks.

  “Anna,” he says again, “do you understand the charges?”

  “I didn't kill anyone,” I whisper, my voice trembling with fear.

  “Maybe you should read them again,” the lawyer says, turning to the officer. “They said she doesn't have a head injury, so if -”

  “I didn't kill anyone!” I shout, tugging at the restraints as I feel a rush of panic in my chest. The metal cuffs rattle against the bed's rails as I try desperately to get free. “You're lying! I didn't do it!”

  ***

  “Tell me what you remember,” Doctor Lewis says a few hours later, as he sits next to my bed.

  Staring at him, I feel as if my mind is on the verge of shattering. A nurse was in here a few minutes ago, rubbing antiseptic balm on my wounds. I've been pulling so hard on the restraints, I managed to wear my skin away.

  “Just in your own words, Anna,” Doctor Lewis continues. “And remember that this conversation is being recorded, for your own good as well as for my benefit.”

  “I didn't do it,” I whisper.

  He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Anna -”

  “I didn't do it,” I say again. The panic is returning.

  “Okay,” he continues, checking his notebook for a moment. “Why don't you tell me your version of events?”

  “I don't know what happened,” I reply, with tears in my eyes. “They said I killed Matt and tried to kill Karen, but that's not true. It can't be. Matt's not dead, he...” My voice trails off for a moment as I try to remember everything that happened when I entered the building on the industrial estate. I feel as if someone has shaken my head like a snow-globe, and all my thoughts are drifting around in an unconnected mess.

  “Don't forget Frederick Gray,” Doctor Lewis says after a moment. “You've also been charged with his murder.” He checks his notes. “I believe he was a security guard at a company that specializes in CCTV networks. His body was found on the floor in one of the storerooms.”

  “He was dead when I got there,” I reply.

  “Your fingerprints were found in several rooms at his office.”

  I open my mouth to explain what really happened, but I'm not even sure that I know. I remember Freddie's body falling out of the cupboard, but I can't be sure that it really happened that way. For a fraction of a second, I think back to the moment when I attacked Jennifer's dead body outside the cabin. If I could have forgotten that, I guess I could have forgotte
n anything.

  “There are videos, Anna,” he continues. “One video in particular is very distressing, I've seen some segments. The video quite clearly shows Matthew and Karen tied to a chair, being subjected to various forms of torture. The person hurting them is off-screen for the most part, but there is a sequence where you are clearly shown looking into the camera.”

  “That was when I arrived,” I stammer.

  “It's earlier in the tape than that. The torture continues after your face is shown.”

  I shake my head.

  “Karen also confirmed that you were responsible for kidnapping her,” he continues, “taking her to that location, and subjecting her to a series of brutal assaults.” He checks his notes again. “Electric drills, saws, garden shears, acids, heat, physical -”

  “Stop,” I whisper.

  “Anna -”

  “Stop!” I shout, trying again to get up from the bed, only to find once again that the restraints are holding me down. “I didn't do any of that! You have to believe me!”

  “I believe that you believe it,” he replies. “Some of the investigating officers are a little skeptical, but when I write my report on your case I'm going to suggest that you've suffered from a series of blackouts. It's also my opinion that in order to cover these blackout periods in your mind, you've been inventing some rather wild and unlikely claims, things that you truly believe happened but...” He pauses. “I'm on your side, Anna. I think you're a terribly damaged individual, and I think that the extent of your psychological damage was under-estimated. I blame myself for a great deal of that, and I can assure you that I have been thinking a great deal about what signs, if any, were missed. You haven't been in control of your own actions.”

  “I didn't kill Matt,” I whimper, as tears roll down my cheeks. “He was alive when I got there.”

  “Karen claims that she got free just after you killed him, and that she was able to knock you out.”

  “No, I...” Pausing, I think back to that night. I distinctly remember untying Karen and then doing the same for Matt, only for him to scream at me that I mustn't let Karen loose. “How do I know what's real?” I whisper. “I don't know what really happened.”