Mar 4

Mar 4 Mind Games - David McGlone

Mind Games by David McGlone

Book excerpt

Andrew’s legs were strong and the running effortless, his breathing deep, even though his chest felt tight. Athletic ease fought with tense anxiety as he drove forward through the long grass. Stopping suddenly, as the road fell sharply to nothing more than jagged rocks below, he searched for another escape route.

‘Halt. Stay where you are.’

The voice was distant but closing in. Andrew turned and looked back at the trampled grass and the stumbling figure approaching, then, tightening the bag over his shoulder, he leaned forward and launched back along towards the man. Crouched and quick, he balled his hands and tensed his shoulders, anticipating contact, desiring it. Adrenaline coursed through him, an exhilarating rush which heightened as he closed on his pursuer, who now stood half-turned and confused. ‘He’s scared,’ thought Andrew. ‘I can make this quick.’

The chase may have made sense to the red-faced cop when he sat behind the wheel of his patrol car, but meeting the miscreant head-on was not in the plan. Too proud to run, he stood side on, hopeful of tackling his man, but sure not to invite a direct collision. Andrew was too quick, too strong, his commitment absolute. He met shoulder with shoulder, shouting out as he leapt into the impact. The policeman flew backwards, his pain expressed only briefly as the air was forced from his body. Andrew did not even miss his stride, moving onwards and slowing only slightly as he checked that his bag was still secure. He smiled broadly at the feeling of the rough canvas bag, bulging with money, pushing against his back. His whole body pulsed with life, and he screamed joyfully as he quickened his pace once more.

He soon reached the cop’s car, the open door an indicator of careless haste, and stopped to catch his breath. Stretching his neck, he took in his surroundings, reveling in the silent emptiness. He threw the bag onto the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel, smiling at the dangling keys.

‘This is an official vehicle, so don’t forget your seat belt.’ Again, he smiled as he clicked the belt into place and turned the key in the ignition. Foot down, the engine roared into life and the tyres spat dirt and gravel into its wake. ‘Let’s go, Andy boy.’

As the car sped along the dirt road and out onto the motorway, Andrew’s senses were heightened, acute, his emotions raw and invigorated. This was a high he wished would never end. Shifting up through the gears, he pushed the car ever faster, desperate to keep up with his mind. Watching the world dissolve into a blur of colour, he screamed in ecstasy, an ear-piercing shriek that seemed almost inhuman. Sound and vision merged, peaking in an unholy maelstrom. Then there was only blackness.

Maria’s body was still pulsing and sweating as she opened her eyes. Her head was spinning, and it was some moments before she could make sense of the hotel room. Reaching to her side, she arched her back in an exaggerated stretch as she grabbed her water and drank greedily. Gradually, her breathing slowed, along with her heart.

‘Jesus, what a rush! What a place!’

The place in question was the Hôtel de Rêves, a place of faded grandeur and strange delights. A source of false mythology, its reality was yet stranger than fiction. The clientele both select and random. Some came to try its strange curiosity and left, quiet and troubled, never to return. Some were immersed in the experience and went home refreshed and excited. Others were gripped by this organic, yet unnatural opiate, returning as hollow-eyed addicts, over and over again.

For Maria it was new and unexpected. A Ouija board-type experimentation, but one that connected with God knows who? That it had worked was surprise enough, but to have felt so much was astonishing. Reaching for the bedside table once more, she picked up the glossy black card, reading the bold red letters once again.