The Dead House - Kurtagich Dawn (лучшие книги читать онлайн бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗
(CJ): He didn’t know where to find me. You never let me say good-bye. You took him away from me—
(AL): Carly… I only began work on your case after you were admitted here. How could I personally be responsible? Hm?
[Pause]
If I am to have any chance of helping you, you have to stop seeing me as the enemy.
(CJ): [Softly] You’re not responsible. I think… I think maybe I do… need help.
[Pause]
(AL): Carly… this is remarkable progress. Thank you for allowing me back in.
(CJ): I’m tired now.
(AL): Okay. Let’s resume tomorrow. This is wonderful progress. You should feel proud.
[Pause]
(CJ): Then why do I feel like I just murdered Carly?
[End of tape]
Some people say that night blooms.
But night descends self-consciously.
Night cuts slowly.
—Kaitlyn Johnson, Attic Wall
59
A record of the phone call transcript, which Kaitlyn references in the entry below, took five years alone to secure and release. The transcript follows the diary entry.
The Johnson Claydon Diaries
Twenty-second Entry
Presumed to be Tuesday, 21 December 2004
I never expected to hear his voice on the phone. The Viking, after all this time. He said he’d been trying to find out what happened to me—where they took me—for two solid months after the accident, but he was shut down by the police. After I was taken to Claydon again, a small article made it into the local paper. As soon as he spotted Carly’s my name, he was on the phone to Claydon, demanding to speak to me.
Lansing got ahold of him after that, and I think I’m grateful. I don’t know what my mind might do anymore. Lansing said I was catatonic, and so I was. Lansing said I would integrate, and I have. Lansing says I’m fragile, and, well, I did almost jump off a roof…
So she has control of me. Takes care of me.
I can’t be trusted by myself. Because Lansing is right. I do hear Aka Manah still, getting closer and closer, his Voice so soft I can feel his breath. And I feel the Dead House, yearn for it even. That’s not normal, is it, Dee? So I should withdraw, keep away.
But, the Viking… I can’t believe it. He found me.
The first thing he said, after I picked up that gray phone, was “You’re a bird, and I have your seeds.”
Dee, I burst into tears. If I ever had something close to a brother, although more, it would be the Viking. My stupid-ass John, who dresses like some kind of barbarian and towers six feet tall, looking down over my tiny five-five. He made me feel safe—just his voice, over that crackling audio line.
He asked me what I was doing here. I told him about Elmbridge. He made me feel like a part of the world again, Dee.
I cried.
I never cry.
I hate how small I sounded. How already-broken I was. Am. He told me to hang tight, that he was coming soon, and I cling to that, Dee. I cling to the knowledge that he’ll come and see me when his course ends. (He’s at college now, can you believe that??)
My Viking, my brother, after so long.
Transcript of Incoming Telephone Call
Schedules at 4:00 pm, Tuesday, 21 December 2004
Ward A3
John Hutt: DH? Dark Half?
Operator: Please hold the line while I connect you.
John: Okay.
[Connection tone]
Reception: Ward A3.
Operator: Call for Carly Luanne Johnson, authorization Dr. Lansing.
Reception: Connecting.
[Connection tone]
Carly: Hello?
John: You’re a bird, and I have your seeds.
Carly: [Sharp intake of breath] John?
John: What the hell are you doing in a place like that? I saw it in the paper. Have you been there all this time?
Carly: [Soft crying] [Sniff] No—
[Crying]
John: It’s okay, Kaitie. I’m here.
Carly: [Takes breath] I was here for a while, but then they moved me to a school. Elmbridge. It’s in Somerset. I’ve only just come back here. For a little while.
[Pause]
John: Well, I guess it makes sense. You were a bit potty.
Carly: [Laughing] You dick. Where are you? Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for forever.
John: Back home still. I never left Chester, but we moved house. I was in an accident. It put me in the hospital for a while, which is how I lost track of you. By the time I got out, you were just… gone. No one knew or would tell me anything.
Carly: An accident! Are you okay?
John: Yeah… Yeah, no worries, I’m fine. Just pissed that I lost you for a few broken bones. But I’m hoping I can come see you when college is out.
Carly: You’re in college?
John: Yeah. Engineering.
Carly: [Quietly] You always were good at fixing things.
[Pause]
John: Not always.
[Pause]
Carly: [Softly] Chester is ages away.
John: I’m coming to see you. I am. As soon as I can. I promise.
[Silence]
John: I am coming, DH.
Carly: Yeah.
John: Ever the skeptic. You’ve got to trust someone, right? So trust me.
Carly: [Laughs] You sound like Dr. Lansing now.
John: [Pause] I’m going to have words with that Lapdog woman.
Carly: [Laughs] Lansing, not Lapdog!
John: She’s got a lot to bloody answer for.
Carly: I don’t think you’re allowed to swear on a hospital phone, you know.
John: Well, she said something that pissed me off.
Carly: She’s helping me.
John: Listen, if she were a guy, I’d have broken a rib or two by now.
[Pause]
Carly: What’d she say?
John: She said something that tipped me off to the reason I haven’t been able to find you in so long. You were there. In a bloody mental hospital.
Carly: I… I thought you’d forgotten about me.
John: I would never do that! I told you, remember? Even though—even if—
[Pause]
I have to go. I don’t want you to hear me like this. I might break something. Pro’ly the phone. Or the wall.
Carly: Wait—John…
[Breathing]
John?
John: I’m here.
Carly: So… you didn’t forget me?
John: You’re a riot, Kat. [Pause] You pest.
Carly: [Laugh, sniff] So… you’ll come?
John: Wild trolls couldn’t keep me away.
Carly: [Exhales]
John: Kaitie?
Carly: Hm?
John: Don’t let them break you.
Carly: I… I’m trying.
Operator: Time’s up.
John: Talk to you soon, pest.
Carly: John—
[End of call]
The Johnson Claydon Diaries
Twenty-third Entry
I had a conversation with a viper tonight. He slithered up my legs, around my torso, lingered on my shoulder, forked tongue flicking near my eye as he smelled me.
