Ready or Not (The Hide and Seek Trilogy Book 3)

by Mark Ayre

  By now, the entire statue was rippling and rapidly changing colours. The lance seemed to change the fastest of all, and right at the tip, something else. The tip was black but glowing. Like the rest of the statue, it rippled, but it did not change colour. And there was power there. Heidi could feel it. It made her cold, afraid. She hated that feeling even more than she hated feeling stupid. Her kind did not feel fear. Should not, anyway.

  “What did you do?” Asked Heidi.

  “Tore a hole in the precarious wall between the dimension we had entered and the one we had left. Once I did that, our reality came flooding in, and the beautiful world we had overtaken was torn to shreds. Our slaves were turned to nothing, and our bodies unravelled. Once more, we were spirits of unmatchable power; our tormented world was twice as large.”

  Behind Cleo, there was a crumbling sound. Heidi thought at first, the state was going to collapse. Instead, the man upon the horse moved his arm, shifted his lance, so it no longer pointed at an angle, but directly at the sky. The black, throbbing dot at it’s end grew larger.

  “I knew then my purpose,” said Cleo. “Since then, we have entered many other worlds, all before you were born. Each has collapsed beneath the weight of our home, once I tore a hole between the dimensions.”

  “Why?”

  The word escaped Heidi’s lips before she could stop herself. At her side, she felt Aurora tense with anger. She thought Cleo might lash out, might kill her. She was lucky.

  “Beauty, life, happiness,” said Cleo. “These are lies. Our true forms reveal us as harbingers of destruction. It is what we are for, and we will find no peace until the entirety of existence is nothing but a never-ending expanse of the world from which we came, and there are no beings left but us.”

  The stone man pointed his lance to the sky, the tip aimed at what many humans believed to be the heavens.

  “Can I count on you, Heidi?” said Cleo. “I sense my plan makes you uncomfortable. I need to know you’ll follow me.”

  Heidi could not afford to hesitate. Regardless, she did, if only for a couple of seconds.

  “You’re my master, the most powerful of us all,” she said, after those seconds. “I called you forward not to presume to tell you what to do, but to listen to your orders and to carry them out. That’s all that matters.”

  Cleo looked Heidi in the eyes. Searched for lies. Smiled when she was satisfied.

  “That’s all I wanted to hear. And the truth is you have little to do. Within hours, our friend, the statue here, will be ready. I have turned him into a conduit with which I will break down the barriers between this pathetic world and ours.”

  Cleo stepped forward and clasped Heidi’s shoulder.

  “The humans might see tomorrow’s sunrise,” she said. “If so, I hope they enjoy it.

  “It will be last rising sun this world ever sees.”

  Thirty

  Beauty made fast work of getting Sam out of the hospital. Heads down, they made for a Ford Capri, blue, and slipped inside. No one peeked through the windows as they drove from the carpark. No guards burst from the hospital as they joined the main road. There was no sign of the police.

  It took less than half an hour to reach their destination. Sam expected another building shell. Maybe a warehouse or a shack or underground bunker. Beauty drove her to a comfortable neighbourhood filled with detached homes and well-kept lawns. They swung into a cul de sac. Beauty smiled at a couple of children having a kick-about. They grabbed their ball and rushed to the curb, waving at the car as it went by.

  Beauty drove to a house at the bottom of the road. Number 17. It looked like any of the others. Nothing about the place screamed that this was the headquarters of a woman who possessed dark intentions and her boss, who she believed was a God. It was hard to believe a plan to enslave humanity could be formed within and launched from this unassuming property. Then again, this wasn’t Hollywood. Not everything had to look as you might expect.

  “Out,” said Beauty.

  Sam did as she was told. Stepping from the car, she looked back up the road to the children they had passed on their way down. The kids had returned to playing their ball game. They were laughing and joking. Inside, they would have parents who loved them. After Sam’s parents died, there had been no more time for games. She stayed inside, she studied, she cooked, she cleaned. Did anything she could to ease her guilt for what she was doing to Benny. Stealing his life by turning him into mum and dad.

  An elderly woman stood at the window across the street. She appeared to be looking at Beauty. When she saw Sam looking at her, she disappeared back into her home. Perhaps to call the police.

  A sign on a lamppost caught Sam’s attention.

  “Neighbourhood watch area,” she noted. “Don’t you think they’ll be on you before long? If they don’t go straight to the police.”

  “Shut up, get inside,” said Beauty.

  Sam expected an escort into the house, but Beauty left her by the car to storm up the drive and unlock the front door before disappearing inside. Sam glanced back at the old lady’s window, but no one appeared to be watching for the time being. She could run, but to what end? Her brother lay in hospital. She needed to see him, to know how he was. Her options were to stick it out with Liam and Beauty until her brother was free or return to the place she had just fled, looking even guiltier than before.

  Again plagued by worse than a lack of options, Sam stepped away from the car and up the drive. To the right of the front door were two window boxes. Well-kept, fresh. Would she open the door and find, in the downstairs bathroom, the fresh corpses of what had been, until recently, a happy family? The thought brought bile up her throat and tears to her eyes. Why was she here? What had she done?

  Too late to worry about that now. The decision was made. Sam was determined to stick it out.

  Taking one final look up the road, at the kids playing ball, at the old lady’s window, at the neighbourhood watch sign, she sighed, stepped inside, and closed the door.

  The house was quiet, the soft carpet in the hall pristine. Although Sam feared she might need to flee this place, she could not bring herself to sully the carpet. She wiped her shoes on the mat then slipped them off, leaving them by the front door. Then she stepped to the first door on the right and let herself from the hall into the living room.

  A small, snug room. One sofa, one armchair, big TV. An electric fireplace. A mantlepiece and windowsill upon both of which stood numerous family photos. Smiling faces in wooden frames drew Sam’s eyes. She tore her gaze away. She did not want to think about the homeowners or what might have happened to them.

  Beyond the living room was the kitchen. Sam could hear Beauty moving about. A kettle boiled. Her driver returned into the living room.

  “Coffee?”

  It was the hospital dilemma again. Sam was drained; could use the pick-me-up the coffee promised, but she loathed the idea of accepting anything from this monster.

  The logic Beauty had laid out over the water still stood. Fighting the urge to tell the stunning bitch to piss off, Sam nodded.

  “Sugar? Milk?”

  “Whatever you have.”

  Beauty nodded and left. Though the armchair and sofa looked comfortable, Sam remained standing, positioning herself where she would see Beauty enter from the kitchen, but not the family photos which might inspire horrible, lucid imaginings.

  A couple of minutes later, Beauty returned, dumping a mug on the coffee table, and casting an eye over Sam’s attire.

  “You look ridiculous. I’ll get you some clothes.”

  She departed without a word, leaving Sam alone in the living room. Less than a minute later, the door opened, and in stepped the man with Liam’s face.

  “I’m glad Stephanie was able to persuade you to join us.”

  Sam opened her mouth to ask who Stephanie might be, then it clicked. Of course, she had named the beautiful woman Beauty for lack of a better option. Her real name must be Stephanie.


  “I made a mistake,” said Sam. “I was afraid. I didn’t want to go to prison. I helped kidnap a kind innocent man and now… well, I don’t know. What’s happened to Liam? Who are you? Beau—Stephanie says a God.”

  At that, Liam smirked. An easy, confident smile. It didn’t belong on the face of the man Sam had met in the pub the previous evening. Seeing it made her angrier, made her want to storm out. She held her position as Liam dropped into the armchair and pointed at the sofa.

  “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  Sam gave a short, sharp shake of the head.

  “No?” Liam raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look comfortable.”

  “Maybe when the homeowners return,” said Sam, “they’ll offer me a seat. If they do, I’ll take it.”

  She’d spoken with contempt, with sarcasm. Liam registered the tone but seemed unable to comprehend what she might mean by it. At least for a few moments. Then he smiled and gave a little laugh.

  “You think we’ve murdered some poor family and stolen their home for our headquarters?” He looked around. “I suppose if you were going to kill someone for a home, this home would be a stellar choice.”

  The armchair was positioned between the telly and window. From the windowsill at his side, Liam plucked a family snapshot. Standing, he pressed the frame into Sam’s grasp, though she didn’t want to take it. He sat, gestured to the photo.

  “We’ve killed no one to be here,” he said. “The owner gave us permission. Look.”

  Sam wanted to tell Liam to piss off; to throw the frame in his face and storm out the door. Now it was in her hand, she found herself far less able to resist the photo than when it had been across the room. Fingers trembling around the smooth wooden frame, she glanced at the picture.

  A family of three. Two parents in their fifties, a child in her teens. All of them beaming.

  The parents looked friendly, loving, but essentially ordinary. The girl was something else—an untold beauty with long, flowing hair, perfect skin, and piercing eyes. The smile on her face was natural and easy, kind, even. The confident smile didn’t suit Liam, and this warm smile didn’t suit the woman who had threatened to have Sam raped.

  “Stephanie was fourteen,” said Liam. “That’s their last family picture. Her parents died shortly after. An accident. Something the two of you have in common, as I understand it. Difference being Stephanie was an only child while you had your brother.”

  For a second Sam felt a pulsing, overpowering sympathy for Stephanie. It throbbed in her stomach. This woman had been through what Sam had been through but without a Benny. What would Sam have done without her brother? How would she have coped? Would she have coped?

  The sympathy came as Liam spoke and went as Sam remembered Titus’ battered corpse and her brother, in an operating theatre, fighting for his life. She placed the photo on the coffee table beside her untouched drink, folded her arms and looked at Liam.

  “Am I supposed to forgive the awful things she’s done because her parents died?”

  “Not at all. She’s a loathsome human who deserves to pay for her sins,” said Liam. “For now, though, it’s important to understand her parents died in non-suspicious circumstances and Stephanie inherited the house. I’m sure she would be happy for you to take a seat, but I can invite her back down to confirm if you’d like?”

  So calm, so cool. Sam hated Liam more with every easy word. Still, she was weak, tired. Though she loathed both of them, she sat in Stephanie’s chair, accepting the drink Stephanie had made and the company Liam offered. She surrendered her moral high ground as she fell from her feet as she had when she quit the hospital for fear of prison time.

  “Just tell me,” she said. “Is the real Liam alive?”

  “No.”

  Liam didn’t hesitate to divulge the news. Sam clenched a fist by her side and felt a tear drip from her eye. Liam was dead. She was to blame.

  She said, “You killed him.”

  “It’s an unfortunate side effect of the process,” said Liam. “The ritual dragged me from my dimension and shoved me into the victim on the symbol. I took over like a virus. Not by choice, I killed the host and took his body. I am sorry. I wish it hadn’t been him. He was a nice guy. Genuine.”

  Liam never wavered as he spoke. His eyes burned into Sam’s. She turned away, drank more coffee, cried more tears. She couldn’t speak.

  “I’m not a God, though, if that helps. Just a being from another reality. A horrible, awful dimension. Like I say, I didn’t choose to be here. I wouldn’t have chosen to kill Liam, but I can’t regret my arrival. I’m needed right here, right now. For various reasons.”

  “What can I call you?”

  Liam raised his eyebrows, surprised. He had expected her to dig into why he needed to be on her world. She couldn’t have cared less about that.

  “I’m still thinking of you as Liam,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I can’t have that. Bad enough you’re disrespecting his memory by wearing his skin after you killed him. It’s even worse I’m using his name for you so, what can I call you? What’s your name?”

  As though it were a problematic maths sum rather than a straightforward question, he gave this some thought. After thirty seconds, he merely shrugged.

  “I don’t have a name,” he said. “Would you care to christen me?”

  “Scum. Bastard. Devil.”

  Liam smiled. “Not a huge fan of those, it must be said. But maybe we can work with Devil. Ruler of the underworld. How about Pluto? From Roman Mythology, the God of the underworld. Also Mickey Mouse’s dog. What do you think?”

  “I don’t care if you call yourself Wrench, so long as it’s not Liam.”

  “Well, on balance, I think I prefer Pluto to Wrench, so we’ll go with that. I’m pleased.”

  She didn’t respond. Her coffee was still hot, but she was so drained she downed most of it anyway. Afterwards, her tongue throbbed, and her throat strained. She didn’t care.

  “Why did you want me, anyway?”

  “Huh?”

  Liam, now Pluto, had been staring out the window at the clear blue sky. Seemingly, he’d fallen into a reverie from which Sam’s question had dragged him. She repeated it, and he nodded.

  “I need allies,” he said.

  “You have Stephanie.”

  “I do have Stephanie. But she’s cruel-hearted, self-serving. She follows me for now, but do you see her as the sort to take orders long term, even if she does believe me a God?”

  Sam couldn’t help but smile as her exact thoughts were parroted back to her.

  “She thinks she can.”

  “She’s lying to herself,” said Pluto. “As well you know.”

  Sam nodded, didn’t respond. Pluto continued.

  “I have another, a man I met earlier today but I don’t yet know enough about him. I could find more people, but only those I could convince through a show of power would join me. More Stephanies, in other words. That’s not what I want.”

  He gave her a long look. His eyes spoke of honesty and integrity. Lying eyes, in other words. Still, Sam stayed quiet.

  “You’re different. When I burst into this world, I saw into the souls of those whose chants had summoned me. In a split second, I learned so much.”

  He went back to staring at the sky. He smiled at it as though it were an old friend or lover—someone he had missed.

  “Titus was a monster,” he said. “He’s better off gone, trust me on that. As for your brother… I know how you feel about him. I won’t speak ill.”

  “My brother’s the reason I survived my parents’ deaths.”

  At her defensive words, Pluto turned his head, as though the syllables had made a fist and smacked his jaw. There was sadness in his eyes. She hated that. He thought her delusional, pitiable. But how could he know? She couldn’t explain it to him, this creature from another world. He would never understand.

  Nor did he want to pursue the matter.

  He said,
“Whatever your brother is, you are an honest being, and selfless. I need you by my side for the next day or so. Do you think you can help me?”

  “Why should I?”

  “For now,” he said, “because I promise to ensure your brother never sees the inside of a prison cell, and neither will you. I mean that, too, but I don’t believe it will matter so much in the end. I believe, before we’re done, you’ll be helping me because you want to.”

  Sam almost laughed. Pluto was insane if he believed she would ever want to help him. It might not matter. His promise regarding Benny might be enough.

  “My brother’s spent his whole life protecting me,” she said. “More than anything, I want to return the favour. I want to keep him out of prison.”

  Pluto nodded. Didn’t speak because he could see there was more to come.

  “I won’t hurt anyone,” she said. “No matter what. Even for my brother, I could never do that.”

  “I know you couldn’t,” said Pluto. “Nor would I ask you to.”

  Sam didn’t know if she could believe that. So far, he had given her no reason not to trust him, but no reason to trust him either. Although he claimed he couldn’t control it, she couldn’t look past the fact he had murdered Liam. Still, he had made his promise, and if it kept Benny safe, she had to follow him for the time being. She could always change her mind later. She hoped.

  “What do you want me to do?” She asked.

  Trying not to smile, Pluto rose from his chair. From his pocket, he withdrew a mobile phone and unlocked it as he crossed the room.

  “Stephanie thinks I’m a God and she’s wrong,” he said. “She also thinks I’m the most powerful being on the planet. Wrong again. Today, someone brought to your homeworld the ruler of my kind, who comes with glorious purpose and unimaginable power. I dare not tell you of their plan. I don’t want to scare you. All I know is someone stands in his way.”