14

For Floyd's part he knew that they were walking in the wrong direction and he wanted to tell them to get off the road and keep going North. This was the wrong way. He could sense danger but his mind was so full of his own demons that he couldn't vocalise his demand to get away from the road. Floyd could smell it. He could taste it in the air and when he was able to see properly again and when he was able to lash out and speak and shake people and bang some heads together he would. For now he had to leave Spencer as the adult in charge and just hope that he took note of any warning signs. Floyd did try once to explain that they were walking into danger but his words came out as a low keening sound and it wasn't really a sound Floyd liked to make. He didn't want their sympathy. He wanted to be in charge of a situation which now he was able to think about it was a totally ridiculous one. They were all going to die and it would be his fault.

No… it would be Spencer's fault.

Floyd would refuse to take blame for this balls up as much as he'd refuse to take the blame for anything.

'Feet.' He managed to whisper at around mid-day, but Spencer and Sam were again moaning at each other about eating.

Neither of them heard Floyd.

Floyd didn't like to be ignored. If he was going to be dragged into the pits of hell by these two morons he would at least like to have a foot rub first. It seemed he was going to be unlucky though.

'You need to try to eat something.' Spencer was saying.

'I don't want to. I don't trust that you can eat that thing and not get a vile gut ache. I don't know if it will get me high… Spencer… in my pack I have some stuff. Can we stay here for the rest of the day and night and let me have something? I'm sure if I shoot up I'll feel better. It's a good idea huh? I'll be all sprightly and full of whoo hoo in the morning. What do you think?'

Spencer gave Sam a very hard look. 'So you don't think you heard someone in the forest? You don't think someone is following us? You think this is a safe place for you to get off your face? You will have to wait.'

'And who died and put you in charge of what I can and cant do? You're not my dad – or my mum – I don't have to listen to you.' Sam whined back.

'Now you will listen to me Sam.' He waited for Sam to stop picking his nose and look his way. 'I've stopped you from dying a nasty death two times now. I could have left you in that ditch but for some reason I felt obliged to save you – at risk to my own life – and you will do what I ask. Up ahead somewhere is a dry place. It might not be warm, but it will be dry and we can find something to burn. When Floyd is well again and when we have dry clothes and we know we are safe then you may ask Floyd if you can shoot up, until then you'll do what I tell you.'

'You're not my fucking parent. You cant order me around. We are equals.'

Spencer didn't much want to be Sam's equal, but he didn't want to fall into a childish argument with him over it. 'The sooner we get to our feet again and start walking the sooner we will find where this road is leading us to.'

Floyd groaned and Spencer ran a finger down the side of his face.

Sam felt a swell of jealousy. Floyd was his. He was Floyd's. Spencer was getting in the way. Sam sat and wondered how he could get Spencer far out of the way. He plotted and plan executions, torture, terrible accidents, disease… He decided on the latter. Disease would be easiest. All he had to do first was to pass one on to Spencer and that might be the hard part. Floyd would stop him. Sam then spent a considerable amount of time trying to work out how to stop Floyd from preventing him from doing foul deeds to Spencer and the only way he could think of was to accidentally hit him very hard over the head with a mallet – or a large rock. They walked again with Floyd getting more and more awkward as they helped him walk, but half dragged him down the road. He could walk fine for a while and then his legs would give out and he'd be on his face again, or he would start to walk off in what Spencer and Sam both thought was a random direction.

It wasn't random.

It was North.

It was away from the danger Spencer and Sam were pulling him into.

He attempted to kill them both once, but it wasn't that easy when he was once again on his front half draped over a bit of tree. He attempted to open his mind up and zap a message through to Sam and Spencer but it just gave him a nose bleed and he thought it made the crotch of his jeans get suddenly warm. He decided that due to the high risk of his companions finding out that he'd just pissed himself he'd not try that again. At least his own stink and the rain… which was falling hard again now… covered up that accident.

The following day after yet another restless night Spencer was very happy to see that Floyd was walking in a straight line again. He was still horribly silent though and also that weird look in his eyes hadn't gone. Physically Floyd seemed fine. The bleeding from his ear had long stopped and there was only an occasional nose bleed, but mentally Floyd still didn't seem to be with it. At around mid-day, sitting under the shelter of a tree, they nibbled mushrooms and grass and licked water off leaves.

'A very long time ago.' Floyd suddenly burst out. It was like he'd been holding the words there for a week and had only just managed to find a way to say them. 'Oh… hundreds of years back now, I was a fighting man. I was a captain in a great army. Well actually it wasn't that great. We were decimated but not through my fault. Thousands of men were killed that day.' Floyd reached out and touched Spencer on the hand. 'Buckets of intestines and brains splattered over me. It's good I don't make friends. Thousands of men were lost, but not one of them I cared a simple shit about. It was the most incredible experience. It rained for a week whilst we held position. There was camp fever carrying off men faster than you could blink. Living in your own shit for so long causes disease. We lost half of the army before we came to the decision to attack the small tower which guarded the road to the city. The enemy were holding up within the tower and in the grounds of the place. They had three times the men we did, and those men didn't have breaches full of green shit and minds on the verge of insanity. The great battle was obviously lost. As said… brains and intestines… limbs ripped away by cannon fire. Dozens of men ripped apart with one shot. I had a horse. I kept back. I was partially in charge of this shit. It was fucking hopeless. I sat and watched the massacre for a couple of hours, slipped from my horse, and retreated at a run. I ran for a week you know? Not through fear. It wasn't fear. It was a complete feeling of hopelessness. There was nothing. I couldn't go back because I'd be hung for desertion. I couldn't return to my family… I didn't have one. I had no friends to offer me largess. I could do nothing but keep running. I ran out of energy in the end and lay under a big old tree and curled up and really didn't give a fuck what happened next. I was still in my fancy fucking uniform. I had no idea if I was in friendly or enemy territory. Not that it would have made a difference as I was enemy to both now. I fell asleep. I woke up because the wind was blowing… the rain bucketing down, and apples were falling on my head. At least I had something to eat though huh?'

'Fucking liar.' Sam replied. 'You've never been a fucking soldier.'

Floyd cuffed Sam gently. 'Yes I have sweetpea… and one day you will be too. Just make sure you fight on the winning team. If you don't know who's going to win… then you need to run.'

'Why are you telling us this now Floyd?' Spencer gripped hold of Floyd's hand.

'Ah…' He shuffled his position and rubbed at his eyes. 'Well it's much like now you see? Except now is better because there are at least two of us.'

'There are three of us.' Sam corrected. 'And it's not the same because we're not at war or running from anything. We're just wet and cold and even I have to admit that I'm feeling hungry.'

'Only partially correct Sam. You two OK whilst I take a nap? Stay on guard. We really don't know whose territory we are intruding upon here and I don't want to wake up tied to the back of a horse and spend my next fifty years locked in a cell sitting in my own shit. Once in a life time is enough however long your life ends up being. Stay aware.' Floyd then slipped sideways and fell into a deep sleep.

'Well what the fuck was he talking about? He's never been in a war and he couldn't have gotten bits on him if he was sitting on a horse. He's a fucking liar and just trying to scare the crap out of us.' Sam muttered indignantly.

Spencer wasn't so sure.

Actually Spencer was very aware that they were probably in what could be called enemy territory, but didn't think right now was the time to point out that he had a feeling that in a very round about way Floyd was telling them they'd made a big error in judgement by walking down the road. Too late now though. It was too far to go back to where they'd found the road and it was unknown where to road led to in either direction. Spencer thus decided for the three of them that they'd stay where they were for the night and in the morning carry on. There was no war. No battle. Nothing but that one warning sign and a few bits of old rusty barbed wire which Sam still hadn't noted even though there had been a few trees displaying it. Obviously though it had been there a long time and the trees had started to grow over the metal and absorb it into the tree it self.

Floyd fell into a deep brooding silence again the following day; a day which promised rain and much more rain. Sam wanted to stay and make camp where we were, but Spencer wanted to keep walking. He could feel that they were close to something. He was hoping for an abandoned farmhouse or even a barn, a small shed, a wall with a lean-to? Anything to keep the rain off. The three of them stumbled forwards again. Floyd could mostly walk unaided now, but he again kept walking off the road and was tripping over his feet. Spencer actually wondered if Floyd could see. That look deep in his eyes hadn't changed. He wanted to ask Floyd, but didn't want Sam to hear. If there was a problem it was one he didn't want to bother Sam with. The relationship between them was tense at the best and that morning Spencer had seen that Sam had found a sharp stick and had been scratching at his inner arms with it. He would have told him to stop, but Spencer knew well that it wasn't that easy. He had his own scratches and scars on his own arms to prove that much.

'Sam.' Spencer tried to lift Sam's flagging spirits. 'When we've found somewhere and when we're dry and safe…'

Sam nodded at Spencer. 'I don't think that's going to happen though is it? We died when we fell in that ditch and Floyd died when he hit his head. If we go back again to that place where we found the road we'll find Floyd's rotten corpse laying in the road, half eaten by wild animals and pygmies and we will be lost forever covered in mud. We're still there Spencer. I can feel it. I can feel this horrible tightness in my chest. Sometimes I cant breathe properly it's so tight… like a metal band around my ribs. I cough and I cough and I spit out mud. We are still there. This is just a miserable journey we are having to take to get us into hell. There's no hope.'

Spencer could see that defeated look on Sam's face. 'You really believe that?'

'Of course I do. This isn't really us. Even Floyd knew that. He said there were two of us here. Which one of us isn't real? It must be you Spencer because you're of that other place. Floyd and I belong here and you don't. So really if you think about it you're just here to annoy me because this is my own version of absolute hell. How else can you explain it? I want a bed. I want to be in a room with mirrors on the ceiling.' Sam stopped and grabbed at Spencer's free hand; the other was holding Floyd's. 'I want mirrors on the ceiling and I want red walls and drapes. I want a dark red carpet and I want to be naked and warm. I want to feel safe and loved and I want to see my refection and that will do me forever seeing that perfect form laying on that perfect bed feeling wanted.'

'You are wanted.' Spencer said. It was only part true. Spencer himself didn't want Sam.

Sam let go of Spencer's hand and started to walk away. 'Not by anyone who doesn't want to pimp my arse out I'm not.' Which was maybe true. 'The only person who likes me for what I really am is myself. I know I look fantastic when given the chance. I know I can be liked and I know once I was even loved. Fucking hate this place Spencer. When can we go home again? I want to go back. I want to go to college and have a time table to keep to and know when my papers need to be given in by. I want to see that look on the tutors face when my work is so much better than he could have done.. I want to see the look on people's faces when they see my text books and the miles of notes I have in tiny writing in the margins. I want to feel like people look at me and look beyond the external and see what's inside. But having said that… the external is pretty amazing too.' Sam walked around a slight bend in the road as he talked about himself and what he wanted. 'Oh fucking fuck… what the fuck is that?'

o-o-o

The three of them stood in the road and looked at the thing which the road led to. Firstly a fence of wire mesh with rolls of razor wire looped around the top which must have stood at a good twenty foot high. There was a gate and the road continued on through it. From here they could see that the gate was held closed by a thick chain. A yellow notice, very much battered and weathered had been attached to the gate.

Beyond was a building.

'What the hell is it? It looks like an abandoned prison.' Sam muttered.

'It's hell.' Floyd groaned.

'Shelter.' Spencer added. 'It's very obviously abandoned.'

They walked slowly forwards. 'Even when presented with a way out, the foolish will walk right through the gates of hell.' Floyd commented.

Sam rattled on the gate. The chain wasn't so tight that someone couldn't slip in through the gap, but it would have stopped people going through more than one at a time. Sam slipped through and jumped up and down in his sandals. 'Well I didn't instantly burst into flames so it's not an old monastery and nor is it hell. Come on you two.'

The building was, by the look of it a large upended U shape. The two sides were two storeys high and the end of the building had an extra bit of height to it. There were small windows with no glass, broken in doorways, and doors still closed and very rotten. To Spencer it still had that ancient prison feel to it, though why it would be out here in the middle of nowhere he didn't know. To Sam it felt like a five star hotel. He ran down the middle of the road whooping with excitement, convinced that Floyd was bringing them here all along and hoping above hope that this used to be an insane asylum and spooky things were still going to be found inside of it. But maybe not too spooky… and maybe he'd wait for the others to catch up before finding out. To Floyd it felt as though they'd just committed the biggest mistakes of their lives and walked right into the slaughter house with kill me, I'm a fucking idiot tattooed on his forehead.

'We cant stay here.' Floyd mumbled, but his voice was lost under Sam's screams and yells of happiness.

'A door! Come on! Hurry up! We can finally get out of the fucking rain!'

Spencer felt Floyd's hand tighten in his. 'Oh Spence babes. Be careful. Be so very careful. We're not alone.' Spencer put it down to paranoia. 'If anything happens to me, get Sam out.' Floyd stopped walking and pulled Spencer round to face him. 'I'm having a little bit of a problem keeping both visual and mental focus. I cracked my head a bit damned hard. You know I can get shot in the head and it not do this sort of damage and it's kind of concerning me a bit. Why aren't I healing?'

Reid didn't know the answers. 'Are your glasses in the backpack?' Floyd nodded. 'Then once we're in side and we've checked it's safe and the floors aren't about to collapse under us I'll find them for you. You're badly concussed. I know the feeling very well. Your ear was bleeding. It'll settle, but you have to get in out of the rain and get those wet clothes off. You need to relax and take some of your powders and things will look better. I'll not let anything happen to either of you. Trust me Floyd. I'm a Fed. I know how to look after myself.'

'A Fed.' His hand tightened in Spencer's again. 'And I repeat. There are more than two of us now. When the armies come raging in and when I'm taken for not standing there… standing there and dying with my men… then you'll go. You'll take Sam and you'll run North. Always either North forever or South forever. We are off the track Spence. Stuff always grabs hold and drags you in when you go off the track. They will come for me. The ghosts of the past either in person or just here.' Floyd put a finger to the side of his head. 'Either way, same result. Much death Spencer. So much. I can taste it. It's sliding down the back of my throat and trying to strangle me from the inside. But I'll protect you. I'll stand with you and I will protect you. If I fail… if I turn my coat… promise me you'll take Sam and go.'

'Turn your coat to who? There's no one here.'

Floyd started to walk forwards again but Spencer was no very afraid that the man who was meant to be leading this great adventure had totally lost his mind and paranoia or delusions… or maybe a psychosis had taken hold of his sanity and ripped it to shreds.

Dark openings in the old red brickwork stood looking at them almost menacingly; trying to entice them to their doom. Sam stood by a pair of big double doors with peeling white paint but he'd not entered yet. He was hopping from one foot to the next gesturing at Floyd and Spencer to get a move on.

'It's dry in here! Holy Hannah! Fuck a dog… dry!' Sam squealed in delight.

'You might have to hog tie him.' Floyd whispered to Spencer. 'Don't let him wander off. If we are going to die we will die together OK?'

'Fine, but we're not going to die Floyd. This place is long abandoned. Maybe over fifty years… there's no sign of life.'

'Of course there's no fucking sign of life. They're not alive are they? Come on. Let's get inside before Sam pisses himself on the doorstep.'

The room was huge and square. There was a fire place at the back wall and a mess of broken chairs and tables in the corner. Other doors led off to the sides and a wooden staircase went up to the next floor. Sam ran to the fireplace and then to the broken chairs and tables and began dragging things back. Floyd stood and looked up at the balcony looking down at them. He shielded his eyes and frowned at it and then frowned at Sam and then grinned at Spencer. 'Well at least we can dry off I suppose. Maybe I was wrong and there's nothing here. I was expecting heads on spikes and bodies in cages. Perhaps we're just in the wrong room.'

'Forever the one to cheer the place up aren't you?' Spencer mumbled. 'Why cant you just accept that you're grumpy because you smacked your head and got a headache and that we found somewhere dry without your help?'

'I don't have a headache.' Floyd snapped back irritably as he pulled off his wet coat and tossed it to the side. 'And we have shelter and maybe even a fire to light but no food.'

Floyd had a good point there, but Spencer was prepared to forgo food that night in exchange for dry clothes. Everything was wet. Even the clothes in their bags were soaked. Sam lit a fire with the bits of wood and then stripped off and laid his things in front of the big fireplace to dry. Floyd was more reluctant to strip and decided to just dry something and then get changed when there was something to put on. Spencer would have loved to have done what Sam had, but he was very disinclined to strip off until they knew exactly what this place was. He placed things over the back of rickety broken chairs and stood them in front of the fire, Floyd did likewise and then they sat and watched the flames.

'They will see the smoke.' Floyd commented. 'They will see it and come for us.' He pulled off his boots and rubbed at his toes. 'And we will have to fight our way out. I wont be taken Spence. Don't let that happen. Yet if it does and if the worst happens and you cant get me back, you have to leave and go North and get out of here. Don't come back. That's a lesson which has to be learnt from experience, but don't let this one be that lesson. If something happens just go and never come back. Not ever. If I can I'll find my own way out and back to you.'

Spencer wanted to know exactly who Floyd thought would see the smoke and who would come after them. It seemed obvious to Spencer that nothing had been here in a while. There oddly though didn't even seem to be animal droppings. The place had that abandoned damp smell to it. There was nothing underlying that smell. Nothing which shouldn't have been there except maybe their own smells. Spencer was also quite sure now that Floyd was deliberately trying to scare Sam who was sitting wide eyed clutching a flashlight in his hand. It wasn't lit. It seemed to be for comfort if anything. They decided that this afternoon and tonight they would sit tight. Dry clothes in the morning would warm them and allow them to think better about what to do next. Floyd's idea of just drying off and moving on wasn't met with much excitement from Sam who complained that his feet hurt and his back was in agony. He also whined and begged and moaned until Floyd finally relented and let Sam have his drugs. He was far from happy about it as he watched the naked Sam curl up in front of the fire. Floyd was enjoying the scene. There was something wild and romantic about the scattering of clothes, the roaring spitting fire, and the naked person. He would have liked to have enhanced the feeling of this bohemian love scene but Spencer was not going to give in to Floyd's loving attention.

'I'm sore and I ache. I just want to rest.'

'You stink too but I'll still have you if I want.'

'Well you've not really put me in the mood for romance with all your stories of death and things coming out of the dark to get us.'

'Would you rather it came as a surprise? Would you have preferred I'd said nowt and let you get dragged away by them? At least you have warning.'

'There's nothing here! This place is empty.'

Floyd shrugged at Spencer. 'Then what's the problem? If it's empty you can drop your pants for me surely? Why do you come up with constant excuses not to let me? What's going on Spencer Reid? Why are you pushing me away? Is it Sam? Have you moved on because I'm too old for you?'

'In years, Floyd you're ageless. In maturity I do wonder sometimes. Do you have the same syndrome as Sam? You said it was genetic.'

That got Spencer a back hander across the face and sharp words in return. 'You calling me an emotional retard you motherfucking shit?' Sam twitched slightly as a spark from the fire landed on his chest. 'Are you implying that I'm second rate?'

'No… not at all. Why would I be here with you if I thought that?'

'Then why fucking well say it? You need to mind your damned mouth and give me some pleasure for once, you selfish bastard. Now. Pleasure me. See if you can remember what I taught you so long ago. See if you can remember what Sam showed you.'

Spencer stood and threw down the bit of wood he'd been holding. 'Sam never showed me anything! What on earth is wrong with you? You wanted Sam with us. You wanted him hanging around getting in the way and now you don't like that he's here do you? I'm not going to just get on my knees and pleasure you because you had a shit day. That's not how it works!'