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The Void Page 5


  “True. I wonder how the others are coping by themselves?”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I keep wondering about poor Ryan. I hope he’s okay.”

  I laughed. “Bloody bludger. He’s probably doing just fine. He’s probably spending most of his time making sure his hair looks good. And did you see he was wearing those glasses again. They’re so stupid. I know he doesn’t need them. Since when is wearing glasses fashionable anyway? He looks ridiculous.”

  “You’re so mean about Ryan! What the hell is he doing here anyway?” she said. Then she gasped. “Uh, he seems like a nice guy.”

  “Ah whatever, cat’s out the bag now. Who cares? They should’ve done their research. Maybe they knew about the connection anyway. It’s not like he wasn’t allowed to apply.”

  “We were told not to tell anyone until we go out,” she said. Then she sighed, resigning herself to the fact that the truth had come out. I was surprised we’d managed to last this long without talking about it to be honest. I thought she was going to kill me when she saw Ryan walking toward us. “Anyway, why did you tell him about it in the first place? I nearly died when I saw him at the park. You could’ve warned me. That Melanie girl probably thinks I’m a freak now.”

  “Sorry, Ke. I honestly thought it would be funny. Come on, it was, wasn’t it?”

  “It was very typical of you, that’s for sure. Funny? Not so sure. Is he giving you some of the money or something?”

  I grinned. “Ah, now you’re getting it. In case one of us doesn’t make it, we’ve promised to split the money.”

  She sat up and glared at me. Her eyes seemed darker in here. “Wait a second. So, if Ryan doesn’t make it, then we have to give him some of our money? That doesn’t seem fair. Also, you could’ve asked me about this, you know. It’s not your decision to make.”

  “Fair point. Hear me out, though, Ke. If we don’t make it, then he has to give us some of his money. Either way, we’re guaranteed to have something when we get out of here, which, by my calculations, should be in ten days’ time.”

  “More like eleven,” she pointed out, but I was sure she was wrong. We must’ve been in here longer than that. “Are you telling me that Ryan could be sitting at home right now while we make him rich?”

  “No, we only qualify if we make at least ten days here. See, I’m not such an idiot after all. I’ve thought this through. I did this for us. I know how much you want a new camera. I wanted to get you one for Christmas this year, but man those things are expensive. I really want this for you.” A flash of the smile and Ol’ Charmer returns. The camera she wanted really was ridiculously overpriced, and what I wanted to spend the money on was a new car, but this was definitely the right thing to say right now. I squeezed her hand and knew she wasn’t upset with me anymore. Also, I figured this would gain me some brownie points for the audience. The man who would risk his sanity to give his girlfriend what she wanted. Hell, I was good at this.

  “I guess. Next time, though, run it by me first. I would like a say in the matter. We’re meant to be in this together, remember?”

  “We are, and just think, poor Ryan is all by himself.” I chuckled. Knowing Ryan was alone in a room next door felt a little like having a safety net to me. I may not be feeling great, but surely he was feeling worse. The camera was going to love him.

  “He’ll be fine,” Keri said unconvincingly.

  “What were your thoughts on Larry, by the way?” I asked. We’d kept our conversations quite superficial so far, but talking openly about Ryan suddenly made me want to say everything that was going on in my head. Well, not everything.

  “Larry?” Keri asked. She’d climbed out of bed now. “Coffee?”

  “Yes please.” Thank god for coffee. “Yeah, what did you think of him?” I didn’t get out of bed but watched as she scooped granules into a mug. I missed the ritual of grinding beans every morning, but this was better than nothing. It was amazing how much I enjoyed this purely because it gave the illusion of starting my day off right. A measure of normality among the crazy. Although, I didn’t see why they couldn’t have sprung a little on proper coffee for us.

  “He seemed sweet. Interesting. I’d love to photograph him.”

  That gave me a laugh. “Oh yeah? I know what that means.”

  She turned to me. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you don’t find him attractive.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nice bum, by the way,” I said and laughed when she wiggled it. I could tell she had been annoyed yesterday, so it was good to see her back to her normal self. Sleep seemed to be the key to surviving this. And coffee, I thought as she handed me the cup. I took a sip and smiled. “I mean, you only like taking photos of people you don’t find attractive. The weirder someone looks the more interesting you seem to find them. That’s why you don’t take pictures of me.”

  “That doesn’t mean I only like unattractive people. I just don’t like typical models.”

  “Oh, he’s definitely not model material.”

  “Jon!”

  “Oh, come on, he’s not. It’s not an insult. It’s truth. Anyway, I found the guy a bit weird to be honest. Like…I don’t know…creepy. What if…What if there really is a camera in the bathroom? What if he’s keeping those for his own personal collection? What if—

  “Jon! Stop it. Come on,” she pleaded. I knew Keri well enough to know what she was thinking. Not now! the look said. Keri spoke many truths, but only in private. She wouldn’t want to hurt Larry’s feelings.

  “I’m kidding,” I said even though I wasn’t. I sat back against the cream wall, and sighed. Larry had been bugging me ever since I’d met him. I couldn’t shake the thought out of my head. Something about the guy just didn’t sit well with me. Why had he been the only guy we’d met? What if he was pumping some sort of weird hallucinogenic drugs through the vent to make us go crazy just to make good TV? And then the main thought, the one that kept playing over and over again in my head. What if there wasn’t even a TV show?

  “You know.” Keri’s voice boomed through the silent room. She must’ve realized it because her next words were close to a whisper. “It’s sort of weird that Ryan got accepted, don’t you think?”

  “What do you mean? I told him to apply.”

  “Well, yeah, but what are the chances that they actually said yes to him? There must’ve been a million people trying to get on this show. Odd.”

  “Hmm.” I couldn’t reply. I could barely think due to the pounding of my heart, which seemed to resonate through my head. It felt as if someone was hitting my forehead with a hammer. I’d never thought of that before. There is no TV show. Bang! There is no TV show. Bang! We’re never getting out of here. Bang!

  “You okay?”

  My head hurt, but as I turned, I caught sight of the camera. I sat a little taller and smiled. “I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just thinking of all the things I have to get done today. What to do first? What to do first?” Bang!

  She giggled. “How about I whip you up a delicious breakfast?”

  “Get to work young lady. Show the world your culinary skills.” The banging eased to a soft knock, and I relaxed again. Of course there was a TV show. Everything was going to be fine.

  Food was a dismal affair, not unlike Keri’s cooking back home really, but despite this I looked forward to it each time. Every meal felt like an accomplishment, as if I was one step closer to the finish line. Our little fridge/freezer was packed to the brim with boxes, each one apparently delivering our quota in calories. I say apparently because I was sure I needed more. I was double Keri’s size, after all, and back home I always ate more than her.

  “Warm up two please,” I asked her.

  “I am.”

  “No. Not two in total. Two for me.”

  She groaned. “Are we really going to have this argument again? The food is supposed to last us two weeks. The last thing I want is to have no food for the last few days.” />
  “He gave us extra remember. Come on, Ke. I’m starving.”

  “Yeah, he gave us extra, but we have no idea if we’re even having three a day. What if we’re having five a day without realizing it?”

  “We’re not. I don’t know why you think we can’t figure out time. It’s the morning of the fourth day, and we’re about to have breakfast,” I said resolutely. I wasn’t sure how much I believed that, but the more convinced I sounded the better for my state of mind. “How about I get an extra bit of food every few days at least? You know I need more than you. I’m always exercising.”

  “Okay fine,” she said then mumbled something under her breath.

  “What was that?”

  “I said that’s fine.”

  “Then you mumbled. What were you saying?”

  “I said that’s fine,” she said again. “You can have two.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Jon, does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed. A heavy sound that seemed to take forever to reach me. I imagined it pushing its way through the air, like someone swimming against a current. I could swear the air was heavier in here. Maybe that’s why I was feeling so strange.

  “I just said that you’re not even exercising at the moment.”

  “What do you mean? I was doing laps remember.”

  “You call that exercising?”

  This angered me more than it should, but I knew it was only because I was ashamed at myself. I’d never gone this long without exercising, but since being in the pod I just couldn’t muster the energy for anything.

  “You should be happy. You’re always saying that I exercise too much,” I pointed out.

  “Well, yes, but you’re the one who brought those damn kettlebells in here. I said we should’ve bought a deck of cards, or a book, or something other than exercise equipment. I’m just annoyed that you made me give up something I wanted for something you haven’t even bothered to use yet.”

  “You were supposed to exercise with me.”

  “Fine. Let’s do a workout after breakfast.”

  “Fine.”

  Food was a weird egg mixture that made my stomach turn. I still wolfed down two boxes, even though I didn’t feel like it. I couldn’t exactly turn the second one down after I’d made such a big deal out of it. After, we sat around, doing little, and barely looking at each other. I kept expecting her to tell me that we should exercise, but she never said a word. Either she wasn’t keen on it herself, or she could see that I wasn’t and had taken pity on me. I didn’t care. I was just glad she hadn’t brought it up again. The more I didn’t exercise, the more frustrated I felt at myself, but the more I felt like I couldn’t do it. I felt heavy, and lethargic, yet I knew if I tried to sleep I wouldn’t be able to. Instead, I sat with my back flush against the cream wall, and wondered if my cream shirt made me look like a floating head. Keri jumped up so suddenly I gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

  “Nothing. Sorry. I thought I’d go for a shower. That’s all.”

  “Didn’t you have one earlier?”

  “Did I? I’m losing track of time.” She stood there for a while, and I swear I could hear her thoughts. Either that or she was talking and not thinking. Things were weird in here. “No.” She shook her head decidedly. “It was yesterday. I showered yesterday. Anyway, it gives me something to do.”

  “Yeah, good idea,” I murmured, then watched as she closed the sanity line. I shut my eyes the moment I heard the water and tried to picture myself back at home. I imagined myself at the gym, saw myself pushing weights, felt the feel of the treadmill under my feet. The warm room, the sweat dripping down my face. I stood up, pulled my shirt off, and sauntered to the bathroom. I yanked open the curtain, then blinked in surprise when I saw Keri standing there.

  “Jon! Close the curtain. The cameras!” she yelled.

  I stared. Blinked.

  “Jon!”

  “Sorry,” I said, then closed the curtain and hurried back to the bed. What the hell? For a brief moment I could swear I was heading to the showers at the gym.

  Get a grip! This was ridiculous. I found myself staring into the top right camera, which seemed to be focused right on me. The room felt hazy, and I pictured Larry sitting there, laughter spilling out of him as he pumped more strange gases into the room. I pushed the fumes away, stood up and moved to the camera.

  “Don’t mess with us, Larry. I swear, if I find out you’re making us go crazy on purpose, I’ll sue your ass. You hear me? I’ll sue you.”

  “Jon? What are you doing, Jon? Who are you talking to?”

  I stopped, and as I turned slowly, I noticed that the haze was just steam coming from the hot shower. I laughed, although the sound was strange.

  “Ah, just chatting to the camera. Trying to freak them out.” I turned back, offered the camera a huge grin. “Just kidding, Larry. Got ya good, didn’t I?”

  Chapter 11

  Ryan

  “Uh, hi.” I spoke nervously into the camera and wished I didn’t worry so much about the way I was coming across. I should be used to things like this. I was always taking videos with my phone, uploading stories to social media, informing the world of where I was at all times. I tried to upload a photo or video once a day, once every two days at the least. If I didn’t, I always felt as if I was failing my audience. The very fact they followed me made me feel like I owed them something. I kept a tally of exactly how many followers I had on each account and loved nothing more than watching that counter go up. Whenever it went down, I worried for days about what I could’ve done wrong. I thought I’d love this, but everything about it felt wrong. I kept imagining the camera as a real person, and once I swore I heard it laugh at me. Yet, at the same time, I liked having it there. It was like an emotional friend who mocked me all the time, but who I also knew I could rely on. “So, it’s Thursday today, and it’s three in the afternoon.” Then I laughed. “Who am I kidding? I’ve completely lost track of time. It feels like three, although most of my time here has felt the same. Who knew three pm had such a presence about it? In real life this is a time where I generally do nothing. It’s that strange time of the day where it’s too early to call it a day, and too late to start anything new. I used to call it Limbo time back home. Anyway, that’s my thought for the day. I think I’m going to play some cards now. Cheers.”

  I cringed at the entry and wished I could do it all over. Why did I always sound so fake talking into the camera? At least at home I could redo the video endless times until I was sure it was right. I ran a hand through my hair, and pulled it back in surprise. What was that? Blood? I looked at my hand, expecting it to be red, but saw nothing. I jumped up and headed over to the small mirror to examine myself. I wondered why they had chosen to put the mirror out where the cameras could see me, rather than in the privacy of the bathroom. Was it the same for all the contestants? Or was each pod designed differently? If that was the case, was their design based on the people going in? What did that say about me? This bugged me. I felt a constant tugging to the mirror, and the desperation to know whether I looked okay was strong. I tried to resist it for as long as I could, just so I didn’t come off too vain. The first few days I’d found myself at it far too often. Although, lately, I didn’t feel the need as much as before. I didn’t like the way I looked here. I wasn’t sure if it was the odd lighting, the lack of beauty products, or the fact that I no longer had my camera’s filter to smooth away the edges. My eyes seemed strange to me. The pupils were too big, and the red rim of my eyelid seemed more prominent. I averted my eyes whenever I looked in the mirror now. I stood there, examining my head. There was no blood, but my hair didn’t look clean. I was sure I had washed it not so long ago. Had I? I tried to remember when last I’d showered. That morning? The day before? Why couldn’t I remember the simplest things anymore? My gaze moved from my head to my eyes, and I flinched. I wanted so badly to move away, but I found myself pe
ering closer. I’d always likened my eyes to the deepness of the ocean, the sort of mix of green and blue that changes depending on the light, but they seemed darker in here. Wait. I looked closer. Where was the ocean? Where was the blue or the green that was my trademark? It was gone. Did my pupils now take up the entire eye? I blinked. Holy shit. I looked away. It was just the weird lighting in here. That was all. My eyes didn’t really look like that. When I played back the footage,I’d see that they looked normal. I…I…I ran my hand through my hair again, then gasped. Blood! I looked at my hand. No. No. Just dirty. I just need to take a shower, and then everything would be okay. A shower, a cup of tea, maybe a game of cards. A bit of normality. Everything was fine. I was fine. My eyes were fine. Fine.

  I would never complain about my home shower again, which I’d always believed to trickle rather than gush the way a good shower should. I now knew the difference though, and the word would forever remind me of this place. Still, a shower was a shower, and I felt better just being there. Solitary confinement without this would’ve been a hell I might not have been able to stay in. I scrubbed at my hair, the part I was most concerned about. I missed my own shampoo, and my hair products, but they were luxuries we had not been allowed. Although, now that I was in here, I would swop my stupid pack of cards for some hair spray any day. I’d considered some sort of beauty product, but I was worried about the backlash I’d get when I returned. I was always going on about being happy with who you were, the whole inside is more important than the outside pitch. I’d get slaughtered if they knew just how much I really cared about my appearance. Right now, though, I’d give anything for—