Simon Says

Parker had been having the most restful sleep. It had been a tough week at work and sleep had not been his friend, leaving him feeling weary to his bones. Right now, he was somewhere between dreams and awake at that stage with the strange sensation where your mind is aware but your body isn’t really up to speed yet and a little slow to respond. Most people experience this as a terrifying feeling of being paralysed and trapped in their own body. Not Parker. It’d been happening to him regularly since childhood, normal until a few years ago and not scary in the slightest. He would wake enough to move soon. There was an odd sound he was becoming aware though, one he couldn’t immediately explain. It was out of place and he couldn’t quite work out why through a sleep haze. An electronic buzz. Was his alarm clock broken? Feeling ready to move, he rolled over without opening his eyes, reaching for the clock on his bedside table..... and fell to the floor with a jarring thud.

Fully awake now, Parker’s eyes fixed on the carpeted floor under his nose. A short fibre with a gold diamond shape on a burgundy background. This was NOT his bedroom floor. This was not a floor in any room in his house. He turned his head, looking around at the furnishings and décor within view of where he lay on the floor. The bed he had just unceremoniously tumbled off was attached to the wall with thick metal brackets and opposite stood two dining chairs either side of a table top attached to the wall in a similar fashion. Parker pushed himself up to sit with his shoulders resting against the bed frame. The electric sound came from a vibration beneath the floor he could feel now he was sitting on it. He looked around the narrow dimly lit room decorated with warm brown wood, rich dark red upholstery and gold accents, noting the way the ceiling was convex, markedly increased at the wall to his left where what was presumably the window was covered by soft curtains and a stack of small luggage the sort people carry when travelling light to one side. Not like his luggage set at all. A sleeper car in on a train. All he could think was When on earth did I get on a train? This did not bode well. It had been years since he had last had a blackout. With the plans he had worked on with his doctor, these episodes had stopped completely. The last thing he could recall was walking through the parking garage under his office building. How long ago was that? Getting to his feet, he noticed he was still dressed in the bamboo blend business shirt he had worn to work, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It wasn’t overly creased after sleeping in it, but that was the beauty of bamboo, it didn’t wrinkle easily. His slacks on the other hand were not the same blend. There weren’t too bad though, so maybe he hadn’t slept long? His watch was gone, as was his phone. Not helpful. He took a deep grounding breath like he had practiced so many times before. No point causing himself stress over something he couldn’t change. If they were gone, they were gone. Move on. He listened for sounds while he checked his pockets for any clues on where he was and why. Patting his back pocket produced a crackling sound. Parker produced small piece of folded paper he hoped might be a ticket, something with a concrete lead. What he found halted his train of thought all together.

Written in a hand that he instantly recognised was a message:

Come find me.

S.

If he had any doubt as to whether his remembered the handwriting after so long, the signing with ‘S.’ smothered it. Simon had to have been in a bit of a hurry, he preferred to use his full name normally. Parker hoped somehow he was wrong even though he knew he wasn’t. If Simon was involved, it was not good.

Finding nothing else in his pockets he turned to the bags. They contained utilitarian items, nothing personal. A few protein bars and snacks, a pen, note pad with an embossed pattern across the top, a set of what appeared to be house keys, a thick scarf balled up and stuffed in one back pack. The pad of paper appeared to be the same paper as the note Simon had written and the ink in pen was the same colour. Both items had been in the top of a backpack. It was possible that Simon had been here, used these items to write the note in his pocket, but Parker did not believe the pack belonged to Simon. It wasn’t his style. The pad looked familiar though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Something about the pattern, like a word or a name on the tip of his tongue. Reaching the bottom of the last pack, Parker pulled out a small cloth wrapped bundle. The smell from the cloth made him fumble and drop the small bottle wrapped up in it. A sharp memory of the cloth reeking of that smell being pressed over his nose and mouth before the world went black struck with force. Throwing out a hand to steady himself, he focused on the label on the bottle. A hand written and placed crooked across the glass read chloroform. OK, definitely not his own luggage. He hesitated before rewrapping it and putting the small bundle into his pocket.

So far there had been no sounds from outside the car he stood in. Given there was a distinct possibility he had not boarded the train under his own violation, Parker hoped that was a positive sign but caution was likely the best course. He slid the door leading to the hallway open a little and listened intently. At first the only sound was the running of the train. It had to be electric and high speed because of the smooth hum of the engine with only the odd soft rhythmic bumping sound typically associated with a train. Sliding the door open, Parker glanced both ways down the hall. The only movements were blurred shapes of trees flying past the windows lit by the dim light of the sun. He would have to wait a little bit to work out if it was dawn or dusk though. Feeling tense, he stepped out of the sleeping car. Out here he could hear the sound of voices. Not loud enough to make out words, just enough for him to figure out the sound was coming from down the hallway to his right. Parker considered it for a moment. No ticket, no ID, the kind of people willing to abduct him and Simon gallivanting around? Probably better to avoid people where possible for the time being until he had some more information. Sliding the door closed behind him, Parker turned away from the voices and started down the train towards the rear carriages, the carpet making his cautious foot falls silent. Looking around as he progressed down the hall, he noticed there was no light coming from under the other shut doors. With the sound of the voices receding, he opened the door between this carriage and the next. The dining car was empty. Odd that at this time of the day there were no diners or wait staff bustling around preparing for a rush of hungry patrons, breakfast or dinner. It was almost as though the train was deserted.

He passed through the kitchen after the dining car having with an growing sense of menace, like any moment his abductors might jump from a shadow to attack. Previous doors had all been unlocked, but closed. Ahead of the increasingly apprehensive businessman opened a darkened portal, the lights in the next car were not lit. Taking a breath he stepped cautiously through the door way and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Vague shapes surrounded him on both sides, empty shelves divided from the central walk way by slack cargo nets. Walking further into the dark a deafening crunching sound under his feet sent his heart rate through the roof. The floor in here was clearly not carpet. Concentrating on his settling his breath again he looked around to try see what he had stepped on. Unable to see in the very low light he warred with himself for a moment: turn on a light and potentially set up a beacon for his assailants to notice or see what was around him for a clue as to how to get out of this mess?

After a moments consideration he stood and searched for a light switch on the wall beside the door. After a brief search, his fingers encountered a bank of rocker switches. Taking a deep breath, he gently slid the door shut and closed one eye so when the light came on he would not be blinded. Flipping a random switch, the lights at the far end of the room flickered on, catching on the sharp edges on the broken glass bottle to one side of the walkway. Coiled beside a larger shard of glass lay knotted lengths of rope frayed at one end, cut away by something not quite sharp enough to be efficient and a strip of cloth. Beyond that was chunks of broken wood scattered around a trunk with a shattered lid. The scene triggered another memory. No sickly sweet smell of chloroform this time. Bound hand and foot, two stocky men in ski masks lifted him bodily into the trunk and keeping him there while they lowered the lid. Crouching beside the trunk Parker examined what remained of the lid. Twin crescent shaped indents marked the wood cracked and pushed up on the far end of the lid. Running his finger tips over it, he considered the clues. The curvature of the lid would have given him enough room to repeatedly jam his heels against the inside until it broke. Being slender and long of limb did not make Parker weak. Aside from breathing and meditation exercises, his Doctor had recommended dealing with the stress and running his successful company through physical exertion. Parker had chosen swimming initially, enjoying the solitude of lapping the pool. Simon had 'suggested' adding cycling to his regime by ordering a stationary cycle to be delivered to Parker's apartment. He had been annoyed by the interference in his life at first. He had discovered he enjoyed cycling though and had to begrudgingly admit, sometimes Simon knew him better than he knew himself. Now it appeared the strength gained from those two recreational activities that had given him the ability to kick his way out of a confined space. He drummed his fingers against the remainder of the lid, crouched by the box deep in thought. He had little to go on at this point. He had been abducted. That much he remembered. He had been stuffed in this trunk. He remembered that too. The grain of the wood caught the light, a depth of colour and grain he could recall as the lid had closed on him, locking him in pitch black. The box was now broken and he had woken up in a different room. It was a high likelihood he had broken out, not been let out or someone breaking in. That aside, the more concerning questions were: who were his abductors and why? The article in Forbes magazine recently listing the substantial value of his company and his personal net worth had stirred up a few people. There wasn’t a day that went by since that his secretary didn’t tell him of a worthy cause writing to ask for support. Could ransom be the motivation?

Finding nothing else of consequence in the luggage car, Parker flicked the lights off again and made his way back the way he had come. Nothing on the train seemed out of place other than a lack of passengers. The only sign of other occupants had been the voices down the hall from the room he had woken up in. The idea of seeking out people potentially responsible for his current predicament set his heat beating faster. It stood to reason that his abductors would come looking for him where they had left him. Hiding and waiting to be hunted down sounded less appealing than going to find them. At least being the hunter gave him some sort of advantage. He hesitated at the kitchen, contemplating taking a knife from the magnetic strip on the wall and decided against it. He had no where to hide it and he didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to shoot first and ask questions later.

The hall way of the sleeper car was as deserted as when he first woke. Listening intently as he slowly progressed, the voices got clearer. Something about them was off. They weren’t natural, the way voices sound when people have a friendly chat or even an not-so-friendly one. A Television maybe? Now nearly at the end of the carriage, Parker could see a thin line of soft yellow light shining under the bottom of the door interrupted occasionally by a shadow passing back and forth like someone pacing intermittently. The first sign of another person he had seen. Feeling his pulse quicken again, he worked to keep his breath even and quiet. Whoever was in the room had a high potential to be hostile and as much as he was sure his breathing was not that loud, some primal self preservation instinct screamed at him that every minuscule sound he was making was as likely to attract that hostile attention as banging on a drum. He waited a moment looking for the shadow to pass over the floor again and back before testing the door to see if it would slide just enough for a glimpse of the interior of the room, pausing long enough to slide the bottle of chloroform out of his pocket and loosen the cap. Surprising himself, his hand was steady as he reached out to move the door. It slid silently and easily. A crack opened between the wood of the door and the frame, just enough for Parker to see a sliver of the room including the edge of a couch and a television on a side table with a news station weather girl warning people cheerily that they would need to remember their umbrellas tomorrow. The narrow crack did not open enough for him to see anything useful and the pacing shadow hadn’t moved into view. Being careful not to draw attention to himself and holding his breath he slid the door a little further. At that moment the shadow moved toward the door. Parker jerked back, afraid to be discovered. He had never been overly dexterous, but this would have to have been his worst uncoordinated moment. He had been keeping pressure on the pocket door to prevent it rattling in its frame and drawing attention, a sound theory. Not as sound when he forgot what he was doing in that moment of panic and his hand threw the door open as he drew back hastily. The effect was akin to a magician throwing back the curtain to reveal his beautiful assistant where an empty box been a moment ago. The door flew back on its track, leaving him completely exposed. And face to face a grotesque sight.

Parker stumbled back, tripping when his heel caught on the carpet and fell back against the windowed wall of the hall. He scrambled back onto his feet and spun around to put his back against the wall outside the room. His breathing came in short ragged gasps and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The edges of his vision were closing in as if he was going to faint, but he knew better. He had felt like this many times before, right before a blackout. The memory of Dr Vaughan’s voice echoed in his head.

You have to gain back control. It happens when you become caught up in your stress. Focus on slowing and deepening your breath. Look around at your surroundings, find 5 things that are completely man-made. Now find 3 things that are organic material. Finally, find something familiar.

Parker had followed the instructions as he heard them in his head. They had always worked before. He found the five, then three and finally looked for something familiar. His eyes cast about and came to rest on the window opposite where he stood propped against the wall. It had definitely been dusk, the scenery outside now invisible in the dark. The smooth glass instead reflecting back his own pale face framed by dark dishevelled hair. Not a style he was used to, but still the most familiar sight in the world to him. Taking a deep breath he stood up straight and rounded the corner to face the sight in the room again. Calmly this time, he took in details.

A rope roughly the thickness of his thumb ran from a knot tied to the brass coloured curtain rail, across the ceiling to wrap around the light fitting, the opposite end of the rope weighted with a body. The rope looped around his neck had sunk into the soft skin, made worse by the swelling from the pooling of blood in the tissues either side of the ligature. His face had turned an ugly red like a deep bruise with big blotches of darker colour that must have been broken blood vessels under the skin. His face may have been slender before, but now it was puffed up making his bulging eyes look half closed and his parted lips stick out like he had too much filler put in. Every so often, the carriage would sway slightly in its passage over the rails making the body sway on its rope. The pacing shadow cast across the floor. The face held Parker’s attention. The deceased man’s tongue stuck out past his swollen lips with something white beside it. Repulsed, he stepped in closer to get a better look. A rolled up tube of paper had been tucked in the side of his mouth, jutting out beside the tongue. Cringing and fighting back vomit, he attempted to pull the paper out. At first it wouldn’t budge. It’d become stuck to the dried out mucus membranes. Tugging a little harder and gagging, Parker tried again. After a second the paper slid out in tact. It might have been the nausea, but he had a bad feeling about this. He lent over away from the corpse, his stomach roiling and unrolled the small scroll with trembling fingers. The handwriting was the same as the first. The paper from the same unusual embossed notepad.

Tick Tock Parker. Time is of the essence!

Find me. FIND ME NOW!

Simon

Simon could be a condescending ass when he wanted to be, but he had never taunted Parker before and to his knowledge, he had never committed homicide. What the hell had he done? How was he involved in this? The sound of the TV in the background broke through the tumultuous thoughts rattling around his skull. He was not used to not having all the answers.

‘Now for an update on the search for the missing Forbes Magazine Businessman of the Year, Parker Rein. Police have released images of two men they believe may have knowledge of his whereabouts. If anyone has any information, they are urged....’

The two images on the screen were instantly familiar. Cover their faces with ski masks and they were the men who had bound his hands and feet and unceremoniously stuffed him in a wooden box. One of them was now hanging from the light fitting. Which begged the question: where was his buddy?

The only place to go was forward. Parker noticed this was not a regular passenger train. The finishings and decorations would not have been out of place in a mansion. The next carriages going forward were equally as uninhabited as the ones he had come from. There were signs of activity in the forward carriages: things left out on the bench after someone had made a sandwich in the smaller galley kitchen off a fancy dining room, a couple glasses of scotch left on the bar, a game left unfinished on the billiard table and on dart board. The bigger sleeping car remained untouched. It seemed his abductors had charted a private train but not for the comfort. It suggested they had some serious financial backing.

He arrived at the forward car more anxious than before. There were two abductors. If the second was on the train, he had to be in the engine. Maybe he was the driver?

Despite knowing his abductor was most likely beyond the next door, Parker nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the bottle of chloroform he had been carrying for defence when the stocky guy on the other side of the antechamber dropped to the floor and scooted his back to the door of the secure cockpit of the train engine.

“Please! I was just doing my job, I wasn’t going to hurt you!” The guy held his hands up and turned his face away, like not looking directly at Parker could save him from harm.

Something wasn’t right. He was the aggressor, he was the abductor. The person with all the control and power. Why would he beg Parker? He knew business negotiations though. This was his chance to get some information. “You stuck me in a box..........”

“Yeah, we did. But it was a big box. Plenty of air. And we were careful. We were under instruction not to hurt you.”

“Were you told to put me in a box?” It was a strange thing to fixate on, but he suddenly had to know.

“Yeah! The box, the train. Everything. They provided everything. With full instructions. I’m really sorry, man! Please! I’ll do whatever you want! Don’t kill me!”

Parker kept his expression carefully neutral. The guy was afraid of him. Not his money or influence. But the potential for physical harm.

“Who hired you?”

“I never met them.” He sat a little taller against the wall, hopeful he could talk his way out of this predicament yet. “I only ever knew the main contact by a code name. Doc. Nothing else. Money and equipment were left in neutral places, nothing traceable. Cash n the like. Honest to goodness! I’m telling the truth!” He placed his hand over his heart as he said the last peice.

It had to be someone who knew him. His suspicions were growing.

“Did they tell you my father used to lock me in a wooden box when I was a child if in anyway disappointed him?” Parker watch for the guy’s reaction. The colour drained from his face and he looked terrified, like peices of a puzzle were falling into place and the picture was his worst nightmare.

“I swear, I didn’t know, they never told me! I’m sorry! I didn’t know! Please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t kill me!”

“Where is this train going?”

“What are you talking about? How should I know!” The guy’s expression changed from fear to one of disgust. “You changed the programed route and locked us out of the cockpit hours ago. There has been a speed warning alarm sounding for the last 20 minutes. The train is at risk of derailing. And the speed just keeps increasing. At these speeds there won’t be enough of us left to bury!” His tone became frustrated and hopeless. “I’ve been trying to get in and slow it down ever since. I just want to get off the train! I just want to get off!” He started to sob. “If you are going to kill me, please just do it. Please stop the games. I can’t do it. You stalked us and you got Connor. Im trapped. Please don’t torment me any more. Please.......”

Parker stood inside the door watching the man on the floor, peicing together a story.

“My father was a horrible man who used to shut me in that box for hours. He would refuse to give me food or water. Enough oxygen to breath, but no light, no sound and little room to move. My earliest memory is of being shoved screaming into his punishment box. The result is I suffer blackouts. Something I’m guessing ‘Doc’ didn’t tell you could happen. You see, I experience Disassociative Identity Disorder. By stuffing me in that box, you caused a panic attack and my other personality came to my defence. You met Simon. He will do virtually anything to keep me safe. Simon killed your partner in crime and changed the train program. Actually he is the only one with the skills to do it. I can barely use the features on my cell phone. The only way to stop the train is for Simon to come back. I think that's why he killed your friend. It was supposed to shock me into another black out.”

The guy stared at him with his mouth hanging open. “Why? Why not just stop the train and get off? You are obviously capable? This is just a game to you!”

Parker sighed. He had hoped this would not end up going the direction he suspected it would. “May I remind you, YOU abducted me? Clearly, you arnt an innocent bystander here. If you had known the full story, I suspect you wouldn’t have taken the job. But then again, maybe the money would have been too good.” A thought occurred to Parker, one last question about something that didn’t make sense. “Where is the engineer? The train driver? Even a pre programed electronic train has a driver. The company wouldn’t have chartered it to a client without providing a qualified driver or making sure they had one.”

The guy on the floor stared at him in disbelief. “You killed him! Connor was the driver!”

Parker’s lips pressed together into a line. So the choice of target was not pure chance. 2 birds, one noose. Simon knew that if shocking Parker into a blackout didn’t work, he would need a plan B. They needed Simon to slow the train or they would crash. He had never tried to relinquish control to Simon before. He hoped it would just be the opposite of the technique he used to keep Simon at bay. Parker focused on all the stressors in the situation: Simon’s presence, the murdered driver, the run away train, the threat of dying in a blazing fireball. And to top it all off, he was fairly certain Simon wouldn’t let the second guy live.

“Mr . Rein? Dr Vaughn will see you now.” It didn’t matter how often he said please, call me Parker, Denise still called him Mr. Rein.

“Thank you Denise.” He smiled at her and hobbled to the ornate wooden door leading to the psychologist’s office. He had been coming here for years and it was the place he felt most safe.

“Parker! So good to see you up and about! How’s your foot?” Dr Vaughn stood up from behind his big oak desk to shake his client’s hand. Parker had woken up in hospital bruised, battered and with his right foot in plaster. A hairline fracture in his tibial bone and a concussion were all he sustained after apparently jumping from a high speed train just moments before it derailed in a ball of flame. The Doctors at the hospital said he was incredibly lucky to have survived and were not surprised he had amnesia.

“It’s fine, a little sore but it’s good to be out and about again.” He took his doctor’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. His eyes dropped to the desk between them and landed on a note pad scrawled with the doctor’s illegible hand writing. The note pad was unusual, the embossed pattern on the top jumping out at him as it had on the train. Picking it up off the desk, he stared at it for a moment.

“Parker? Is everything OK?”

The pieces slotted together, how didn’t he see it before? There was only a few people who knew he experienced blackouts and even fewer who knew the trigger. Well, two. Technically himself and Simon counted as one. Dr Dennis Vaughn was the other.

“It was you. You orchestrated my abduction.”

Vaughn sat down slowly. “I acted as a go between, yes. But I didn’t orchestrate it. You made that deal with the green energy company and the stocks in the company dropped and kept dropping. Investors pulled out because they weren’t interested in short term loss for long term gain. The threat to you personally was high. You’ve been tired? It’s not because of the hours you've been working. It’s because Simon has been seizing the opportunity to take over when you go to sleep. You maybe asleep, but Simon is awake and has been very busy. I didn’t want to Parker, but Simon made sure I’d be implicated if I said or did anything other than what he wanted me to. When Simon says.......”

Parker stared at the pad in his hand. “Yes, when Simon says, we do.” He realised in that moment, he would never be free of Simon.