Page 178 of The Sleepwalker
‘I’m dreaming,’ he says.
‘Do you remember any of it?’
‘Just that I was at home. And .?.?. I don’t know, I think I had to run. That’s what usually happens, anyway.’
Without warning, Hugo sits up. The camera pans across the bedroom, taking in the curtain over the dark window, the chest of drawers and the armchair.
‘So you’re sleepwalking now?’
‘Yeah,’ he replies, his voice barely a whisper.
‘This is creepy,’ she says quietly.
The camera moves slowly towards the door, where it pauses.
The sleeping Hugo seems to be staring straight at the smooth panel as the world of the nightmare takes over him.
His pale hand appears in the lower right of the screen, and he calmly turns the handle, opens the door, looks around and moves forward into the dark hallway.
When he reaches the main door to the suite, he stops again. His movements become frantic, tugging at the handle and fumbling along the walls beside it with increasing desperation.
‘You’re trying to get out,’ Svanhildur whispers.
The sleepwalking Hugo looks around, takes a step back and presses the lock button on the wall. He then moves forward and opens the door, hurrying out of the suite and straight into the wall opposite.
‘Ay,’ he mumbles as he watches himself stagger to one side on the screen.
The camera is still for a moment, then starts drifting down the corridor as though it were floating on a dark river, past patient rooms and offices. The row of pale-blue nightlights on the right-hand wall flicker by.
From time to time, Hugo glances back, as though he thinks he is being followed. The camera sways slightly with each step hetakes.
In Svanhildur’s pantry, Hugo leans into the computer. He runs a hand through his hair and realises he is shaking.
On the screen, a lumpy, dark-grey shadow is visible by the wall at the very end of the corridor. It looks like a heap of sacks full of potatoes and onions.
The vinyl flooring shines in the soft light.
Closed doors with gleaming hardware rush by.
The sleeping Hugo holds out a hand, as though to push back a low-hanging branch.
‘What are you doing?’ Svanhildur whispers.
‘Dunno.’
He sees himself stop and look down at his pale bare feet. There is a dried wad of snus on the floor by the metal skirting board.
Hugo looks up and then slowly starts walking again, past the door to Svanhildur’s room.
At the far end of the corridor, the lumpy shadow moves suddenly, and a thin arm becomes visible.
‘There’s someone there! Did you see that?’ Hugo asks, pointing at the screen.
‘God .?.?.’
The camera continues past more dim nightlights, floating ever closer to the shadowy figure.
The sleeping Hugo turns towards a red cabinet containing a fire extinguisher, and his frightened face is reflected in the glass.
