Jamie woke up.
"He's awake!" a doctor cried.
He could feel an oxygen mask on his face.
"How do you feel?" the other doctor asked. He wore incredibly strange glasses that gave Jamie a slight shock.
"Ugh." He found it hard to speak. There was a disturbing beeping noise in the background.
"You're alive though," the doctor with weird glasses said optimistically. "At this time of year you could die of the cold."
Jamie noticed a policeman sitting in the corner, taking notes.
"What happened…?" He said slowly.
"No, don't worry about that now," The first doctor, said. "You could have concussion. And you're pretty badly bruised too."
Jamie laid back. He could see out the back window; they were approaching Lerwick. He drifted back to sleep…
It was like some sort of dead reunion. Dozens of ghosts stood about, talking, drinking, behaving like people who are alive.
He saw the ghost of Gormac, the man who was killed by a broken wind turbine, sitting on a bench. He looked around for anyone else dead he knew. He walked up to Archa.
"Hey, Jamie's Dad Ernie isn't here is he?" Robert asked him.
"He's dead?" Archa said, shocked. Robert explained it to him.
"Like I said earlier, not everyone becomes ghosts," Archa said. "He could be dead and we wouldn't know."
Robert went back to lurking in the corner. He felt so alone. It may have been because he was surrounded by dead people, but something hiding in the back of Robert's mind dismissed that as the reason. Robert decided to keep it at the back of his mind.
Archa glided towards Robert. They didn't actually glide; their feet moved and touched the ground, but gliding was the only way he could describe how ghosts moved.
"Things are advancing sooner than we thought," Archa told him. "We'll need your help."
Robert suddenly was filled with bottled up rage. Why should he help? This had nothing to do with him! He didn't even know what he had to do! And on top of all that, his Grandparents always had preferred Mary…
"Well what if I don't want to help you and your pointless mission!" Robert burst out. "It must be getting late and surely Dad will be wondering where I am now! Why can't I just go home?"
"You can," Archa said, frowning. "However it might interest you to know that you're not the only missing person! Your sister has been taken by the people we intent to stop!"
Robert's Dad in fact hadn't noticed Robert was missing yet. It was late into the night, and pitch black outside. He was sitting in a police-car, sick with worry. How could Mary have just disappeared like that? But she was just one of many missing people in the police's eyes.
The radio made a crackling noise. Wilson tried to switch it on, though with little luck. Had he not used a radio before? Eventually he got it working.
"Yes sir?" He said into the speaker.
"Wilson," a man with a deep voice, which could only be the chief inspector, said. "We've located and arrested some of the possible kidnappers. We saw them trying to kidnap the boy that was with Mary Smith when she went missing-"
"Jamie!" Sam - Mary's Dad's name, cried out.
"Yes, that it his name," The Chief Inspector said tiredly. "But we got into a shootout with them, as one of them had a gun. He was regrettably killed but we arrested the others."
"Very good sir," Wilson said. "Er, was the boy - Jamie, alright?"
"He was taken off in an ambulance, as not only had they been rough with him but he's been exposed to the cold for what looked like ages."
"So what do you want me to do sir?" Wilson asked.
"Report back to the police station with Mr Smith for questioning, then we'll interrogate the kidnappers."
"Very good sir." Wilson fumbled with the buttons and turned the radio off. Was there truth in the letter Jamie had told him about after all?
"Do you think Mary's disappearance is connected to my parent's disappearance last year? Sam asked him.
Wilson hesitated, thinking, though he was really thinking about something completely different… It was bound to come up at some point. He'd just have to lie again. Soon it wouldn't matter.
"Oh, um probably," he answered.
Sam was also thinking about other things. The end would come soon. And people would certainly die. It was up to him to make sure as few did as possible. But how?
Sam was not the only worried parent. When he hadn't arrived at home by nine, Jamie's Mum Clarice gave the Smith household a phone; only there was no answer. Worried, she had then phoned Len, who told her all about Mary being missing, and that Jamie had run off.
She was phoned an hour later by the police, who said Jamie had been found and was being taken to the hospital in an ambulance, thought they wouldn't say what the reason was, and only that it wasn't life threatening.
She darted into the car and made her way towards Lerwick…
"Would you like anything to eat?" Miss Manson asked Mary. Mary ignored her.
She was in a room, with metal walls painted to look like wood. The room was small, and all that was in it was the chair she was sitting in, a radio (which was playing some old tune from the 80s), a bed and a bookcase. She was allowed access to a toilet twice a day, and was taken out for exercise (a walk) every 3 hours.
"You must want something dear," Miss Manson continued. "You haven't eaten anything since you arrived."
Mary didn't have a clue where she was. For all she knew she could have been taken up to Norway. Naturally she wasn't allowed outside the room, except for when she was escorted to other rooms.
"Well, I'll leave the food at the door and if you want it you can eat it."
Miss Manson walked out the door, and it slid closed.
The place was a laboratory; there was no doubting that. She sometimes heard buzzing, and odd clanking noises. It had the ominous feeling of being underground as well, though Mary couldn't be certain of that.
She often wondered if this was where everyone went when they were kidnapped. She listened out for signs of people, and even shouted out for someone in the middle of the night, though none of her kidnappers heard, making her think the walls were soundproofed.
She then had a horrible thought; what if the people taken were used in some sort of experiment (or worse), and afterwards were no longer needed and "disposed of". She put that thought out of her mind, and looked at the food. Typical; salad!