New Title 1 (22 page)

“Excuse me.” She reached down and touched the person’s shoulder, surprised when the figure slumped to the ground. Concerned and worried, Chase looked down and a scream gathered momentum in her throat.

It was
the vicar.

But it wasn’t a dark shadow on the floor.

It was blood.
 

Someone had cut his throat. Blood glistened wetly around the fatal wound; the edges of the skin had parted like a grotesque zip. Blood covered the front of his clothes and speckled the floor in a gruesome dot-to-dot. She couldn’t see a knife; he hadn’t killed himself (no one slashed their own throat, did they?), and because the blood was still wet, she knew he had only recently been killed. Was the killer still here? Was that whom she had seen running between the pews? Her eyes scanned the room and she backed away from the body, leaving macabre footprints in her wake. She gagged, fighting the urge to be sick.

The candles flickered, smoked, and went out as a wind blew down the aisle. A door slammed, the sound echoing around the church and Chase jumped. She stared frantically around before fear propelled her toward the exit. Something fell and hit the floor behind her, but she didn’t look back, too afraid. She heard footsteps, running, almost disguised in synchronisation with her own. Finding the door was locked, the scream broke from her mouth and she frantically struggled to slide the bolts across, the footsteps growing closer as the lower bolt jammed. Panicking, she slammed the bolt with the heel of her palm, ignoring the pain as she slammed it again and again until it moved with a protesting squeal. The footsteps were directly behind her as she flung the door open, the sunlight stinging her eyes. Once outside, she risked a glance behind in time to see the church door slam shut with a sound like thunder.

Although the vicar was beyond Adam’s ministrations, she ran toward the surgery, her heart thudding like a drum. Fear propelled her flight, and by the time she reached the surgery, she was sweating and breathing heavy. As she dashed through reception, Patricia looked up from filing her nails into claws.

“Miss Black. Can I help you?”

Ignoring her, Chase ran through the waiting room where two people sat in silent contemplation of the empty fish tank.

“Miss Black, come back——”

Without knocking, she opened Adam’s door and ran in, panting. Adam was sitting on his desk, taking a young girl’s blood pressure.

“——the doctor is seeing someone,” Patricia said, grabbing Chase by the arm, her sharp claws digging in and making Chase wince.

“
He’s dead
,” Chase screamed, trying to shrug Patricia off.

The young girl Adam was ministering too, looked up at Chase with panic etched across her face. She squealed, stood up and backed away with the blood pressure meter still wrapped around her arm like a suckling alien. Her long, black hair fell across her face, but she made no attempt to brush it away. Black circles around her eyes marred her pale face.

“Chase, calm down, what is it?” Adam grabbed Chase by the shoulders to restrain her, his face full of concern.

“Adam, I tried to stop her,” Patricia said.

Adam nodded and mouthed ‘it’s okay’.

“The vicar, he’s dead. Someone’s killed him.”

“The vicar! Are you sure?” He looked sceptical.

“Of course I’m sure. He’s at the church and I think the killer’s still there.”

Adam frowned. “Now calm down and tell me what you saw.”

Chase took a deep breath. Her throat felt sore from screaming, as though she had pulled something deep in her throat. “Well, I went to see the vicar, but the church was locked and I went around the back, the door was open, I went in and he was dead, crouching in front of the altar.” She spoke quickly, the words running together so they became one word. She didn’t know whether Adam had understood what she said, because he was just staring at her, his expression blank.

“Come on, he’s dead, someone’s killed him. We’ve got to get help.”

Adam nodded his head. “Okay, let’s go and have a look.” He didn’t look convinced.

“I can’t go back there,” Chase squealed, shaking her head. “We need to contact the police.”

“Well, if he’s dead, he isn’t going to hurt you, is he.”

“Don’t get fucking sarcastic with me. The killer might still be there.”

“Well, I’m sure no self-respecting killer is going to hang around at the scene.” As he spoke, he approached the young girl who was cowering against the wall.

“Keep her away from me,” the girl said as Adam unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from her arm.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you, will you Chase.”

Shaking her head, Chase let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Of course I won’t hurt her.” Why would she think that?

“Come on, let’s go and have a look then.” He walked toward the door.

In the surgery, the two people in the waiting room still contemplated the fish tank, seemingly oblivious to the commotion.

As if out of respect or disbelief, they walked toward the church in silence with Patricia and the young girl following at a discreet distance. When they arrived, the doors were still shut. Chase swallowed as Adam opened the door and walked inside. “Be careful,” she whispered.

Adam nodded and closed the door behind him. Turning around, Chase noticed Patricia and the young girl whispering to each other. Both of them stole furtive glances in Chase’s direction.

Chase swayed from side-to-side, nervous, impatient, her arms folded protectively across her chest. What was taking him so long?

The church door creaked open. Chase flinched and took a cautionary step back.

Adam appeared in the doorway, motioning for Chase to follow him inside. She took another step back, biting her lip. She really didn’t want to go in there. She didn’t want to see the vicar again. It was the first dead person she had ever seen and she recalled how pale his face had been, drained of blood, ghostly, like the fog.

“Come on.” Adam leaned out and grabbed Chase by the hand.

“No, I don’t want to go in there,” she protested. She didn’t think she could face it, not again.

Shaking his head, Adam pulled her inside.

As they walked down the aisle, Chase looked anxiously around the church, avoiding the altar. She really didn’t want to see the vicar. Why was Adam making her come back inside? Did he get some obscene pleasure out of scaring her? What if the killer was still there? Didn’t he realise how dangerous it was? She just wanted to get the hell out of there and call the police.

“Well?”

Chase looked at him. “Well what?”

“Where is he?” He swept his free arm out, indicating the altar.

Chase frowned. What did he mean? She looked toward the altar and her mouth opened in surprise. There was no one there. No body. No blood. Just a wet patch where a vase of flowers had fallen.

The room began to spin, getting faster and faster as reality disconnected, and Chase felt herself falling, as though spinning down a plughole into unconsciousness.

***

Ratty listened to the voices outside the room, straining to decipher the conversation.
Izzy
sat huddled at his side, shaking. He wanted to comfort her, but he felt useless. It was his fault she was in this mess.

He could feel the pressure of her breast crushed against his arm and it thrilled him, but he couldn’t believe he was thinking about such things at a time like this.
Izzy
needed him to be strong, not horny.

As the door opened, Ratty stood up. He could see two figures silhouetted in the doorway. One was immediately recognisable as Drake due to his size.

“Bring them to my office,” the other figure said before striding away.

Drake entered the room, grabbed Ratty and
Izzy
by their arms and pulled them outside. He was wearing green army trousers and a black body warmer over a green jumper, giving him a military demeanour.

Izzy
squealed and Ratty flinched. He wished that he could help her but Drake’s fingers were like a vice, digging into his biceps.

They walked up an incline and the mist slowly dissipated, allowing Ratty to see they were walking between parallel, prefab buildings, the windows of which were dark. At the end of one of the buildings, they entered through a security door into a bright reception area. A man in a blue uniform sat behind a desk. He warily eyed Ratty and
Izzy
until they turned a corner, out of sight.

People hurrying along the corridor seemed to give Drake a wide berth, as though out of fear or respect. Ratty decided it was fear. Stealing a glance at
Izzy
, he saw the same look on her face; she looked more dishevelled than ever. Her hair was dirty and matted to her head while her face was caked in mud and his heart sank. He felt like crying, but he knew he had to be strong.

A middle-aged woman sat behind a desk at the end of the corridor. Her brown hair was tied up in a bun, making her narrow face appear serious and grave. Drake nodded to her and let go of
Izzy
to knock on a door. Without waiting for a response, he opened it and pushed Ratty and
Izzy
through.

Inside, the room was dark, the shutters down. A bearded man was seated at a desk, his hands
steepled
beneath his chin as he watched them enter. His face was expressionless, deadpan, as nondescript as the dark suit he was wearing.

“So this must be Peter
Rathbone
. Isabelle I’ve already met. My name is Nigel Moon.” He moved his hands from beneath his chin and placed them behind his head, his fingers interlocked. He leaned back, eyes narrowed into slits.

 
“Why did you lock us in that room?” Ratty demanded, an attempt at bravery that fell flat as Moon out-stared him.

“It was for your own safety,” Moon eventually said. “There’s a lot of dangerous equipment around our facility. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we? What would your parents say?”

Ratty didn’t like Moon’s tone of voice. He seemed more threatening than concerned.

“So we can go home then?”
Izzy
looked expectant, eager.

“Of course you can. But first I need to ask you a few questions.”

Ratty frowned. “What questions?”

“Well, what are you doing here for a start?”

“We got lost in the fog,”
Izzy
said.

“I see. And what were you doing entering the fog? Haven’t you heard how
dangerous
it is to go wandering around like that?”

Ratty flinched as Moon stared at him.

“It was an accident, that’s all.”
Izzy
lowered her head, the expectant look fading.

“An accident. I see. So what do you think now you’ve seen our little facility?”

Izzy
opened her mouth to speak but Ratty interrupted her. “We don’t think anything. We just want to go home. We won’t even tell anyone you’re here.”

“You won’t? Now why’s that?”

Ratty shrugged. “Because you don’t want people to know you’re here.”

“And what makes you think that?” Moon leaned forward like a predator, ready to pounce.

“Nothing, I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t want to.”