The Rainbow Man Page 2

  Moments later, he was up and over the other side. There was now no way to reach the dog other than going over the rocks, or swimming out to sea and around.

  Jill was almost in tears, as Daniel, Mikey and Greg joined her. “What am I going to do? Mum’s going to kill me,” she said. They could hear Vincent barking still on the other side.

  “I’ll go and fetch him,” said Greg.

  Daniel held his arm. “No, you wait here... and keep an eye on Mikey.” Greg frowned as Daniel handed him the backpack. He looked like he was going to argue at first, then glanced at the rocks and nodded.

  “Please be careful.” Jill placed a hand on his arm. Daniel also nodded, before moving forward, sensibly deciding to make his ascent at the lowest point.

  As he began his climb, all Daniel could hear was the voice of his mother that morning: “Just keep off those rocks and it’ll be fine.”

  He reached up, fingertips sliding off first one ragged edge, then another. His boots were also having great difficulty finding footholds. Once or twice he almost lost his grip, especially near the top, but Daniel kept going. He had to get Vincent back… for Jill.

  When he reached the peak, it was with some relief that he swung himself over. But he missed his step on the other side, and wound up tumbling, but landing gratefully on the wet sand beneath.

  Shaking his head, he looked up. Daniel was vaguely aware of his friends calling his name, but could hardly hear it over Vincent’s barking. And now he could see the dog, some way ahead of him on the beach. The collie was standing, barking at… something laying there. At first Daniel thought it might be some kind of large fish that had washed up and not been able to get back to the ocean. But as he blinked, rising, and began moving forward—compelled in a way he didn’t understand—he saw that it was more of a human shape.

  It was a body.

  The body of a man.

  For a moment he forgot to breathe, then he let out all the air in his lungs in a single burst. It hurt when he moved, walked, let alone ran, but Daniel began covering the distance quickly. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that this part of the beach was where the rainbow was pointing. And there it was now, also ahead of him. Its colours seemed stronger and truer than ever, the closer he drew. In fact, was it his imagination or did the rainbow actually end at the body? The base of the thing showing both him and Vincent where to find the man.

  Daniel seemed to move slowly and quickly at the same time, wanting to reach the body but not wishing to see it at all. Vincent never stopped barking in all that time and when Daniel caught up, he crouched to put an arm around the dog. “It’s okay…” he lied, knowing it was nothing of the kind.

  The prone figure laying there was only a few metres away now. He was dressed in trousers, a shirt and a jumper, but had no shoes on, only socks. And all of these clothes were dripping wet. His thin, dark hair was also saturated, plastered to his forehead. His eyes were shut, and a streak of red was running from one of his temples across his face.

  He’s dead, Daniel said to himself. That man’s dead. Washed up on shore from some kind of wreck, like Robinson Crusoe. Only this guy wasn’t quite so lucky. No camping out and Man Friday for him; just a bash on the head followed by drowning.

  He recalled the tall tales Greg’s dad had told them now, of sailors washed overboard in storms and rising up...

  Looking for revenge.

  Though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, Daniel knew he had to check for sure. He rose, and Vincent started barking again, more furiously than ever this time. “It’s okay,” Daniel repeated, each time he said it making it less and less so. “Stay here, boy.”

  Like a cat burglar in a house that wasn’t his own, Daniel crept forward, trying to keep his breathing steady. He got down again, on his hands and knees this time, crawling towards the body, trying to spot any signs of life... but there were none. He was trying to hear as well, though Vincent was barking again. “Shush, boy!” Daniel called back over his shoulder.

  The collie quietened down momentarily, content to whine a little for now. Daniel inched ever closer, cocking an ear. There was no rise and fall of the chest, but that didn’t mean—

  He needed to listen more closely, needed to hear if the man was breathing or not. Closer, closer… Nothing. Daniel’s cheek was almost touching the man’s skin, so close he thought he could feel the coolness of his flesh.

  Vincent began barking in warning now. Daniel pulled his head back, suddenly terrified. There was no doubt about it, surely. This fellow wasn’t alive any more. Just like—

  “You know, you really do look so much like him…”

  For the longest time, yet it could only have been seconds, Daniel stared at the body before him. Everything else faded away, all the sounds and sights around him. He felt compelled again, just as he had to reach this figure. Only now it was his hand reaching out. Daniel had to feel the skin, touch it, just to make sure.

  His hand was up, fingers spread out. Closer, closer…

  Fingertips shaking, something urging them forwards: to connect. To brush against this person, and experience the iciness of death.

  Vincent was still barking, but he’d gone round the other side of the body in an effort to snap Daniel out of his stupor. Again to warn him of… of what? What could this dead man do to him?

  (Revenge, remember?)

  If Daniel knew anything, it was the damage the dead can leave behind them. But not like this, not in the same way. Zombies didn’t really exist outside of comics, TV, film—

  Another loud bark, mixed with a growl, pretty much in Daniel’s face this time, so he was forced to take notice. To look up. “Vincent, would you cut it ou—”

  The body moved, twitched spasmodically. Daniel jumped, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Vincent began snarling. Daniel attempted to move away, but the man’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist.

  Vincent was silent.

  What was that you were saying about zombies, Daniel? Not here, eh? Only in made up stories, like the ones Greg’s dad spins. So, tell that to him, eh? Mr. Zombie, hi, pleased to meet you!

  The “corpse’s” eyes were fluttering and, trapped as he was, Daniel had no option but to gaze at them. As they flickered open once, twice, three and four times, he tried to work out their colour. They flashed first red, then yellow, green, then a startling blue. Daniel closed his own eyes tight and shook his head.

  “H-Help me,” wheezed the man. Daniel looked again, to find the man’s eyes had closed. Then the grip relaxed on Daniel’s wrists, going slack before the hand fell completely away.

  Back to being dead again.

  Except he wasn’t. Daniel could see that rise and fall of the chest now; could see and hear the man breathing. He was alive after all.

  Daniel felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped again, not knowing how many more shocks his body could take. He twisted round, and saw Greg’s face there. Sand still dotted his cheeks and nose from where he’d stumbled earlier. He said one word: “God.” Then he seemed to snap awake, mumbling, “Phone…” He looked to Daniel, but knew his friend hardly ever carried one with him, and when he did the battery was almost always flat. Greg took his own mobile out of his pocket and tried to get a signal. “Nothing. It’s these rocks. I’m going to have to go back, maybe see if Jill can reach someone. Get some help.”

  Daniel nodded, staggering to his feet again and stepping backwards. Vincent joined him, whining and cowering, the excitement gone.

  Daniel was barely aware of Greg leaving him to return to the others, but he continued to retreat. Walking backwards away from the man, until he’d put what he thought was a reasonable distance between them. And that’s where he stayed until the rescuers came: standing and staring with Vincent still cowering round his legs.

  But he wasn’t just staring at the man, he was staring at the place where the rainbow had once been.

  The rainbow that had vanished just as quickly and mysteriously as it had appeared.<
br />
  CHAPTER TWO

  IN A STRANGE SORT OF WAY they had found the treasure Mikey had been talking about, at the end of that rainbow. That’s what their mother would say afterwards.

  “You usually find pots of gold,” she’d commented, “but you found life. You saved a life, Daniel.”

  Daniel wasn’t sure he’d done anything of the kind. It wasn’t like he’d given the guy mouth to mouth, or banged on his chest like you saw people doing in those medical dramas on television. The man had come back all on his own. Come back to life. Come back from being—

  His mum had explained later on, when they’d got the guy back to the small hospital in town, that cold water can sometimes preserve people, make it look like they’re dead. But then when they start to thaw out again…

  “Like surs… surspendered… animals…” Mikey had attempted.

  “Suspended animation?” Their mother had laughed gently. “Yes, I suppose so.” They suspected he’d either been involved in a wreck out at sea—just like Daniel did at first, except they never did find any driftwood, no flotsam nor jetsam on the beach—or had maybe fallen overboard during the storm. “It did get quite rough out there, by all accounts,” their mother continued. Now they had to find out the identity of this stranger, who was suddenly the talk of the town.

  At the moment he was lying in one of the hospital beds, the kids who had found him just outside in the corridor. Though Daniel couldn’t help going and peering through the large glass window at the stranger, with tubes running from him into machines that beeped and whirred, a bandage covering the wound on his head. Vincent had been taken home by one of the local rescuers, and both Jill and Greg’s parents were informed about what had happened, if they didn’t know already through the grapevine.

  “There’ll be a family somewhere worrying about him, too,” Daniel’s mother pointed out, putting her hands into the big pockets of the white coat she was wearing. To begin with, when she’d been notified and they’d first told her what Daniel had done, she’d been angry. But it was really only relief that he was okay. She’d checked her son over herself, making sure he hadn’t been hurt in the fall, in spite of the fact he’d told her he was okay several times (he was anything but, though that wasn’t strictly a physical thing). Then she’d focused on the person they’d found, called upon as town doctor to supervise his treatment.

  It wasn’t long before Sergeant Yeats was also at the hospital, with a couple of his constables flanking him, asking questions. He’d removed his cap and nodded a hello to Daniel when he saw him. Daniel had nodded in return. “What’s his condition, Lori?” the tall, broad-shouldered man in uniform had asked Daniel’s mother. And they’d gone down a little side-corridor, though Daniel could still make out what they were saying. His hearing always had been sharp.

  “He’s suffered quite a knock on the head, Sly.”

  “When’s he going to wake up?”

  Daniel couldn’t see his mother shrugging, but he knew she was. “How long’s a piece of string? He could be in this coma a few hours, a few days… He might never wake up.”

  But he’d woken up once already, hadn’t he? Daniel had seen it, and more besides. He hadn’t told anyone this, because he couldn’t be sure exactly what he’d seen. Flashing colours? Could just have been the rainbow reflecting off the man’s eyeballs before fading away… The guy had spoken, however. Maybe he should say something about that to someone? Might be important.

  “Well, do you think we could take his prints or something?” Daniel heard Sylvester Yeats ask.

  “You think he’s a criminal or something?”

  “For the purposes of identification. We need to get cracking trying to find out who he is, what’s he doing here.”

  “What he’s doing here,” said Lorraine Routh, “is recovering from his ordeal… hopefully… whatever it was.” It went against what she’d been saying earlier about a family wondering what might have happened to the man, but Daniel also knew that the welfare of her patients came first with his mum. “Now surely all that can wait just a little while. Besides, I have a few more tests to run.”

  “Kay,” said the sergeant. “I’m going to need to speak to the kids, though. That all right?”

  There was a pause. “I guess. Better start with Jill and Greg, I have a feeling they’ll be getting picked up anytime.”

  So Yeats did just that, borrowing an office and asking first Jill—who hadn’t really seen that much—and then Greg what had happened. When he’d finished, Mikey insisted on being asked as well, and Yeats humoured the kid, lifting him up and looking seriously into his eyes, before saying: “And you, young man. What did you see out there on the beach today?”

  “Pirates!” shouted Mikey, then laughed hard.

  “I see.” Once more Daniel and the sergeant shared a knowing look, and a smile. Yeats put Mikey down again. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell my men to be on the lookout for anyone with a wooden leg and an eyepatch.” Mikey laughed once more.

  Jill’s mum and Greg’s father had showed up then to take them home, though not before asking a few questions themselves about what was going on. Satisfied their kids were okay, and that nothing more could be gleaned from either Yeats or Dr Routh, they made to take Greg and Jill off with them.

  “Wait, before you go,” Daniel’s mum had asked Jill’s mother. She was exact opposite of the slim, auburn-haired doctor, with her bleached perm and few extra pounds; Jill’s mum was always baking cakes and cookies, primarily for herself to eat. “Could I ask you… both of you, really,” Daniel’s mum continued, looking down at Jill, “a really big favour? Could you watch Mikey for me, just till I’m finished here?”

  “Of course,” replied Jill’s mother. “Our pleasure.”

  “D’you hear that?” Jill said to Mikey, taking his hand. “Back to mine and I’ll bet you anything Mum’s been in the kitchen again. What is it today, fudge cake?”

  The woman nodded and smiled thinly, as if the very thought of sharing her precious desserts made her feel physically sick. “Yay!” said Mikey.

  “And you can play with Vincent as much as you want,” added Jill.

  That’s if he’ll want to play, thought Daniel, remembering what state the dog had been in earlier on. Mikey let out another big “Yay!”

  “Thanks,” said Daniel’s mother, then told Mikey to come over and say goodbye to her and his brother. She gave the child a big hug, then Mikey went over and hugged Daniel round the waist. Daniel shifted about awkwardly, patted Mikey on the back and said, “Off you go then, Shrimp. See what other trouble you can get into.”

  Mikey looked up sadly at him, then let go… was prised off by Daniel, actually. Jill called him again and he remembered the cake and the collie waiting for him back at her place.

  Greg gave a quick wave to Daniel before his dad began ushering him out, but Jill lingered a moment. Then she walked back over to Daniel and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He felt blood rushing to the spot, and the next thing both cheeks were burning. “That’s for going after Vincent in the first place,” she told him.

  Daniel couldn’t fail to miss the glance Greg cast in their direction, opening his mouth then looking down as he let his fisherman father lead him outside to their truck. Daniel had suspected for a while now that Greg liked Jill, possibly more than just in a friend way, but had tried his best to ignore it. Probably because he’d started to develop similar feelings himself, as much as he’d suppressed them. But he’d known Jill a lot longer than Greg had, and he worried that was the only way she thought of him too… as a friend. What was he talking about, they were all friends. A team: the three musketeers. Except none of the musketeers had been a girl, had they.

  By the time his mind had finished rambling on, Jill and her mother had left, taking Mikey with them.

  Just a kiss to say thanks; that’s all. Greg had nothing to worry about. He was safe. Their friendship was safe… for now.

  “I’ve always said that Jill Sullivan was sweet on you, Dan
iel,” said his mother.

  “Just… look, just leave it, will you,” he said and she recoiled as if slapped. Turning away, she retreated back into the room to check on her patient, making Daniel wish he could take back those words.

  “Still giving your mum a hard time, eh?” asked Sergeant Yeats. Daniel had almost forgotten he was behind him. “You know, this place has got bad memories for all of us.”

  Daniel nodded his head. “I know…”

  “And your mum did everything she could to save him.”

  You found life. You saved a life.

  “There was nothing anyone could have done. It was just his time.”

  Daniel shook his head, closing his eyes as he did so. “Can we stop talking about this, please?”

  Yeats put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course. How about we have a little chat about our friend in there, instead?”

  Daniel opened his eyes, looked up at the tall man, and swallowed. He’d been dreading this: the moment he’d have to go through it all again with the authorities. No, not the authorities, with Sylvester Yeats, who he’d known all his life and was like an uncle to him. But still, could he trust him with the truth? And what exactly was the truth, anyway? Daniel had seen the most out of all of them, and couldn’t even be sure himself. “Okay,” he said reluctantly.

  Yeats guided him along the corridor, about to take him into the office he’d been using to talk to Greg and Jill. But before they could enter, they heard Daniel’s mum cry out: “He’s awake!”

  Both turning as one, Yeats and Daniel looked down the corridor to see Dr. Lorraine Routh standing at the door to the man’s room, beckoning them. “He’s just woken up!”

  He’d woken up once before, though, Daniel reminded himself again. As the sergeant set off for the room, and Daniel finally followed, he wondered what he would see this time when he looked at the man.