The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons (17 page)

Jake entered the elevator bay and pressed a call button. Having slept little the previous two nights, he felt stiff and disoriented as he boarded an elevator.

Descending …

His stomach lurched. He did not look forward to seeing Kira and he didn’t wish to trip himself up with a lie if she asked him about her security card. The elevator doors opened, and he joined Laddock and Birch at their security station.

“Right on schedule,” Birch said from his seat.

Jake blinked. “Excuse me—?”

Birch looked up at him. “Not you—
them.”
He nodded at the front doors. “They rise with the sun.”

Jake followed Birch’s gaze to the dozen men and women gathered outside the doors. At first he failed to recognize them through the glare on the glass, but then he realized they stood gazing up at the Tower, as still as statues. “Jesus. What are they looking for?”

Laddock shrugged. “God?”

“Do they ever come inside?”

“Sometimes. But it doesn’t take much to get rid of them.” Laddock reached behind the security station and picked up a wooden nightstick that reminded Jake of the baton he had carried as a patrolman. Laddock slapped it into the palm of his other hand, and the fleshy-sounding echo made Jake wince.

“That seems a little extreme.”

“We’ve got orders not to touch them with our hands,” Laddock said.

Jake remembered the caution he had shown as a uniform when handling homeless people, who were potential carriers of disease.

“Are you going somewhere, Mr. Helman?”

Jake spun at the icy sound of Kira’s voice. She stood in the open doorway of an elevator, dressed in another dark miniskirt and blazer combo with knee-high leather boots. The lady liked black. Her disposition toward him seemed no warmer since their tryst.

Good morning to you
, too, Jake thought.
I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on. “I
was just stepping out for some fresh air.”

“I want to see you in my office as soon as you get back.”

Here it comes
. “Sure.”

Kira gave him a hard look before the elevator doors closed and he felt himself turning red. Did she know he had sneaked into the Demonstration Room, or was she just upset that he had not returned her security card to her yet?

“Uh-oh,” Laddock said.

Turning back, Jake saw one of the Emotionally Disturbed Persons detach herself from the crowd outside. The young woman, dressed in a black miniskirt, a satin top, and no coat, staggered toward the doors in a daze. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she pressed her face close to the glass and stared into the lobby. Behind her, the others remained focused on the Tower.

Grinning at Jake, Laddock slapped the nightstick in his hand again. “We’re going to have to break her in.”

The woman shook the door closest to her, rattling it. She looked up at the top of its frame, then down at its brass handle.

“Don’t do it,” Birch said, rising. “Keep your ass
out
there.”

“They never make the same mistake twice,” Laddock said in a conspiratorial tone.

The woman pulled the door open, allowing cold air to precede her. She stepped inside, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Her face
, Jake thought, narrowing his eyes. Something about it looked familiar …

“I need it,” the woman said as she approached the security station. “Give it back to me.”

An Irish accent?
Jake stared at the gold crucifix hanging around her neck, and the image of rosary beads formed in his mind.

Laddock stepped around him and raised the nightstick over his head. “Crazy bitch …”

The woman continued forward, oblivious to the threat Laddock posed to her. Jake’s right hand shot out and seized Laddock’s wrist, preventing the nightstick from crashing down on the woman’s skull. Laddock turned to him with a surprised look and Jake shook his head.

Laddock jerked his arm free. “Have it your way,” he said through clenched teeth. His snarl transformed into a smirk as he stepped back, giving Jake free reign over the situation.

Birch pointed past them. “Look out!”

The woman stepped closer to Jake, her face taut.
“Give me back my soul!”

Jake saw his reflection in her eyes and realized he had seen it in them before.

Impossible
.

He had not recognized Shannon Reynolds because he had only seen her previously as a bloody corpse lying tits-up on a bedroom floor in Hell’s Kitchen. He raised his hands to hold her back.

Birch raised his voice:
“Don’t touch her, man!”

Too late.

Shannon walked into Jake’s hands and Jake flinched as an electric current jolted him. Unable to bow his head, he lowered his eyes and gasped. His hands had been absorbed into Shannon’s sternum. His arms simply stopped after his wrists, which pressed against her satin top. He opened and closed the fingers that he could no longer see, but the current made it impossible for him to feel anything but fear. He tried to jerk his arms free, but they did not respond to his will. Over the top of Shannon’s head, he saw the other EDPs outside turn their heads toward him in unison. All of them stared at him, wide-eyed and unblinking.

Birch said, “Holy shit …”

Staring into Shannon’s eyes, Jake saw undiluted terror. Her lips trembled, and when her quivering mouth opened as wide as possible, she unleashed a scream that caused him to shudder. A gurgling sound rose from deep within her, and the flesh on her face drew taut. Her features collapsed, as if her skull had caved in on itself, and her liquefied eyes ran over her cheekbones like runny eggs. Beams of intense white light shot out of her gaping sockets and open mouth. Jake watched in mute horror as the energy dissolved her flesh and a stench like that of rotten fruit filled his nostrils. He felt Shannon’s guts gushing over his hands like warm gelatin, and her flesh and clothing swirled together like mixing paints, absorbing her crucifix. Her scream elongated into an agonized wail unlike anything he had ever heard, and her liquefying body splattered the floor at his feet. Steam rose as the flesh-pink liquid evaporated and the light from her core intensified like a sun going supernova. Jake clamped his eyes shut and did not reopen them until the light on his eyelids had faded. No trace of Shannon remained.

Bile rose in Jake’s throat and he fought it down. His hands jerked open and closed, translucent slime dripping from his fingers like long strands of saliva. The electric current had cut off, but his body continued to shake. He turned to the guards, who stared past him, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Good Lord,” Birch said in awe.

Now what?

Facing the entrance again, Jake nearly lost his balance. The EDPs stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the doors with their bodies as they peered in at him and the guards. He focused on the bearded black man he had spoken to the previous morning, and his heart beat faster as he recognized him: Luther Bass, the Cipher’s second victim. Swallowing, Jake studied the other faces. All of the Cipher’s known victims stood before him: Abigail Williams, Miguel Jerez, Sung Yee, and Rachel Rosenthal. He did not recognize the other five figures, but in any serial killer investigation, detectives anticipated a number of undiscovered victims.

Dead people stood on the other side of the glass doors.

Murder victims stared at him with glassy eyes.

Ghosts
.

Jake stepped back. He wanted to flee, to run and keep running, but the doors offered the only means of escape and he had no intention of going through the dead things outside. Had they come to the Tower because of him?

No, they’re not here for me
.

What had Shannon said?

They want their souls back
.

Laddock and Birch had already recovered from Shannon’s meltdown, and Jake’s gut told him they had witnessed similar light shows before. An edge crept into his voice. “Do you guys think you can handle things down here?”

Birch nodded. “It’s not like they can hurt us.”

Jake glared at Laddock.
Thanks for warning me, you prick
. “I’m going upstairs. If you need backup, call Graham.”

Shaking his hands, he boarded an elevator. The slime had evaporated. As the doors closed, he took another look at the things outside and they looked back at him. He felt a sense of relief as the elevator surged upward, but his brain felt like scrambled eggs.

Not possible, not possible, not possible!

What linked Old Nick to the Cipher?

He had to know.

W
hen the elevator doors opened, Graham rose from his seat with an alarmed expression on his face.

He saw the whole thing on the monitors, Jake
thought as he entered the security bay.
They all know what’s going on
.

“Are you all right?” Graham said.

“Do I look all right?” His body tingled, his legs ready to buckle as he approached Kira’s office. Graham did not answer. Jake pushed the buzzer and waited. No response. He glared at the camera looking down at him from above the doors. Still no answer. He turned to Graham, who sat with his back to him.
Pretending he’s not watching me on those monitors
. “Where is she?”

Graham swiveled his seat, an innocent expression on his face. “She must be with Mr. Tower.”

“I need to get in there right now.”

Graham’s expression turned helpless. “You saw what happened down there. This is a goddamned emergency!”

Graham swallowed. “She’ll have my head.” “You’re under my command. I’ll take responsibility.” Sighing, Graham turned to his console and flipped a switch. Jake heard the doors before him unlock, and he pushed them open. He entered the office and closed the doors, the silence in the immense space unnerving him. Glancing at the security monitors, he saw Laddock and Birch standing at their station with nightsticks drawn. Kira must have witnessed the scene and then ran to warn Tower. Jake turned to the anteroom door, pressed his eye against the retina scanner eyecup, and waited. A flash of red light, followed by a click, and he entered the confined space. After staring at the scanner next to the double doors for a moment, he set his palm upon it. Bracing himself, he felt a needle pierce his skin. Then the immense doors separated, and he slipped between the metal rods before the doors had opened all the way.

Jake entered Tower’s darkened office as the doors reversed direction, the recessed monitors providing the only source of illumination. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the LCD lighting, he saw that neither Kira nor Tower occupied the office. He passed the model of the Tower and stopped at the massive desk. The wooden box that Fortaleza had brought on behalf of President Seguera rested upon it. He reached down and opened the box: empty. The doors behind him finished closing and the reverberation caused the office to shudder.

Where had Kira and the old man gone?

His eyes moved to the double doors behind the desk.

Inside
.

Circling the desk, he stepped before the doors, which had no security scanner. Anyone who made it this far had free access to Tower’s inner sanctum. He grabbed the gold handles and turned them. As the doors swung open, bright light blinded him and he shaded his eyes with one hand. He stepped through the doorway and into the light—and entered paradise.

Jake found himself standing on a narrow wooden bridge spanning a narrow stream. Crossing it, he stepped onto a dirt path leading to a wooded area. A warm breeze blew in his face and sunlight shone down on him. Having solved the mystery of the missing floor space, he gazed in wonder at the landscaped park: dirt paths crisscrossed a green lawn covered with lush flowers and exotic plants; huge lights in the ceiling, three stories above, simulated sunlight, shining down on multicolored trees unlike any he had seen before; a waterfall cascaded from the third level into a pool on the first, feeding the stream that circled the entire park like a moat; a laser generator in the ceiling projected holographic birds onto the trees like shadow puppets on a wall, and hidden speakers broadcast nature sounds. At the center, thick vines crept up the brick face of a circular building with stone steps. All on the sixtieth floor of a Manhattan skyscraper.

“Welcome to my Garden of Eden.”

Spinning on one heel, Jake looked up. Tower and Kira stood on a balcony fifteen feet above him. The old man had exchanged his security blazer for a khaki shirt with shoulder straps and a gauze bandage masked his pale left eye. Kira stood behind him, deferring to his authority. Jake had not seen them together before.

“This is a surprise,” Tower said.

Jake’s jaw tightened. “I’ll say.”

Tower followed the balcony to a curved stairway with no railing and trotted down the wide, Plexiglas stairs. Wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots with white, knee-high socks, he only needed a safari helmet to complete the image of a Great White Hunter.

It’s November in the real world
, Jake thought.

“Ms. Thorn just finished telling me about your encounter downstairs,” Tower said.

Jake glanced at Kira, who glided down the stairs behind Tower, her expression inscrutable. “She’s a busy beaver.”

Tower let out a boisterous laugh. “Yes, she is.” He joined Jake on the path and grasped his left shoulder. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Jake stared into Tower’s good eye. Was he kidding? “I need to speak to you—
alone.”

Kira joined them before Tower could answer. “I don’t think that’s wise, Nicholas.”

Releasing Jake’s shoulder, Tower turned to her. “Now, that’s no way to talk, my dear. Jake’s on our team. We can trust him.” He turned back to Jake. “Can’t we, Jake? Just hand your gun to Kira.”

Kira held out her right hand but Jake hesitated. He did not wish to spend one second in the Tower unarmed.

“I don’t allow weapons inside my private quarters under any circumstance,” Tower said. “You’ll get it back.”

Sighing, Jake reached inside his jacket, removed his Glock, and set it in Kira’s open palm. She gave him a patronizing look as she curled her fingers around the weapon’s grip and held it with her wrist bent outward.