Beyond the Blood Moon

by Vic Robbie

  He looked blank.

  ‘Everyone is microchipped, and if you attempt to remove it, the penalties are severe.’

  Now he wanted to get away and find a space where he could shut out the confusion surging through his brain. It was just his luck. Find an interesting woman, and she turns out to be a fruitcake. If he was weird, what was she? And the delusional ones could be dangerous.

  ‘Oh, that.’ He recalled something he’d read in a newspaper and thought it best to humour her until he could escape. ‘They’ve been trying it out for several years in Sweden. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Sweden?’ It was her turn to be confused.

  ‘They claim it’s supposed to make our modern lives easier,’ he said. ‘The propaganda is we’re all safer with a chip. No terrorism. If you’re not worried about privacy, then it might be for you. Didn’t realise it had caught on in a big way, but I’ve been out of the loop recently.’

  ‘Where have you been?’ She couldn’t believe it. ‘No, don’t tell me. Don’t want to know. Those cops at the hospital carry a microchip scanner. With their scanners or using those scanner boxes on the streets, they can read your chip which uses electromagnetic fields to identify electronically stored information about you. They can tell immediately if you’re an upstanding citizen or a wanted felon. Where you’ve been, where you work. Everything in your life. All in this little chip.’

  She took off her glove and held up her hand to emphasise the point.

  Just as well I haven’t got one.

  ‘It’s serious. If there’s no reading, they regard you as a terrorist and a threat to society.’

  ‘Your phone gives out most of that information anyway, so what’s the difference? That’s why I no longer carry one.’

  ‘Why?’ She seemed to find that incomprehensible.

  ‘Prefer to be incommunicado.’

  ‘It’ll get you into trouble.’ She shook her head with a worried frown.

  ‘More than I’m in already?’

  Her mouth puckered, and she nodded. ‘The chips transmit radio waves, which means it’s a two-way street. They can also send messages controlling behaviour and actions.’

  ‘That would be great for dieters. Every time you reached for another chip—’ he laughed at the pun, ‘—it would zap you.’

  As he appeared unable to accept the gravity of the situation, she leant forward and hissed, ‘In extreme cases, there’s erasure then ultimately deletion.’

  ‘Deletion?’

  He looked around, hoping Barney would come over and interrupt this crazy conversation. If not, how quickly could he make it to the door?

  At first, Solo didn’t answer then, picking her words carefully, she whispered, ‘You’ve become a non-person.’

  That was nothing new, he’d been a non-person for a couple of years.

  He let her continue talking but tuned her out. Perhaps this wasn’t happening, and he was still in a coma and in the middle of another nightmare. It was a pity; she was too attractive to be only a figment of his imagination.

  But it was impossible to ignore her and to stop her rambling he grabbed her bare hand and was relieved it felt like flesh.

  ‘If I show you mine, will you show me yours?’ She giggled as he examined her hand. ‘No sign of any chip,’ he faked a worried look, ‘but the lines on your palm tell me you might be a girl with a past.’

  It was so smooth he held onto it for longer than needed, finding the touch reassuring.

  Allowing him that for a few seconds, she snatched her hand away. ‘Why did you have your chip cut out?’

  He flexed his fingers, almost believing there was something in there. ‘Honestly,’ and he stared at her, his blue eyes wide open, ‘it’s not something I’m worried about.’ He’d never been one to follow fashions or fads.

  ‘They’ll be after you,’ she persevered. ‘StatPol never give up in the search for non-chippers.’

  His head was aching, and the whole room appeared to be moving. Although he found this exotic-looking woman with strange ideas equally intriguing and frightening, she was flawed. And it could only lead to danger. He had to concentrate on keeping ahead of the Bentons, and he needed no distractions.

  Now he wanted to go somewhere she couldn’t find him. Her imagination was running rampant. The blowing up of the taxi was almost certainly the work of Bulldog’s friends and family. If they were prepared to endanger innocent members of the public in their quest for revenge, it had moved up a level. He would have to redouble his efforts to keep alive.

  She was still speaking, but he’d lost track of what she was saying.

  ‘If I don’t have a chip, they won’t be able to find me,’ he interrupted, trying to close the conversation.

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ she added. ‘If they scanned me leaving the hospital with you, they could track me now, and I’d lead them to you. Better we split up.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Halfway through another beer, two cops barged into the bar, scanned the room and, pointing him out, came straight over. There were no pleasantries just, ‘Come with us.’

  Headlock didn’t move, and they ordered, ‘Now. Get up.’

  ‘At least let me finish my drink.’

  The other cop pulled out a nightstick and swept the bottle off the table. ‘You’re finished.’

  Rising slowly, he flexed his shoulders. ‘What’s up?’

  Having underestimated his size and power, the cops stepped backwards. ‘Lootenant wants to see you,’ one said in a less confrontational tone.

  ‘Why didn’t he come himself?’

  ‘He’s got problems, big problems. C’mon.’

  ‘You going to cuff me?’ He held out his wrists in mock surrender.

  ‘Naw, you’re family.’

  The way the cop said ‘family’ caused him to hesitate before agreeing to go with them. There was a suggestion in the tone of voice of something they didn’t want to tell him.

  At headquarters, they were shown into the room they’d been in before, but this time they waited only minutes before the door opened, and he gasped. Since they last met, his brother appeared to have aged. Deep lines etched his face, and his clothes were crumpled and hair hand-combed. But it was the eyes that were most noticeable, a sadness replacing their usual spark.

  ‘Sit down,’ his brother said. ‘Got bad news.’ He was battling for control. ‘There’s no good way to tell you this.’

  An overwhelming sense of dread settled over him like a heavy blanket. His brother had always been in charge of his emotions, but no longer.

  ‘Becky’s gone.’

  As though stabbed, a sharp pain tore through his chest, and he heard Solo gasp.

  Gone? How could that be?

  The lieutenant lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Abducted.’

  Becky’s name usually brought back memories, old regrets and feelings of guilt, but all he experienced now was impotence as a numbness spread, paralysing him.

  Four years ago, for endless days and nights, he’d sat in a small room in City Hospital by the side of her ventilator willing her, so small and red and wrinkled, to keep on living. Refusing to sleep so he’d be there for her when she woke. Holding her tiny hand, he’d promised anything and everything and urged her to keep breathing. ‘Hang in there, we’re here for you, we love you,’ he’d whispered over and over like a mantra.

  And now that seemed lost, and all that remained was an overwhelming helplessness.

  ‘I can’t…’ His voice broke before he recovered. ‘Are you certain?’

  The lieutenant snapped back. ‘Of course, I’m sure.’ Then bit his tongue.

  ‘How? When?’ Dread gave way to a wave of anger. ‘This can’t be. It happens to other people.’ Solo’s supportive hand was on his arm, comforting him.

  ‘Then it must be our turn.’ The lieutenant slumped in a chair. ‘I’ve been here many times, telling parents the last thing they want to hear. Sympathetic to their grief but never feeling their pai
n. Always an outsider, an observer, never part of it. Now it’s different, I’m sharing your pain, believe me.’

  ‘Jane?’

  ‘It’s not her fault.’ The lieutenant sprang to his wife’s defence.

  Trying to imagine what had happened so he could process it, he pushed back the chair and paced the room, but all he saw was his daughter smiling, and it made him nauseous. His sister-in-law had been like a mother to his child, and he couldn’t blame her.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘In pieces, what do you expect? She blames herself. Only let her out of her sight for seconds, and someone took her.’

  ‘Might she have wandered off and will come back?’ It was a faint hope, and his brother shared it before professionalism took over.

  Wearily, the lieutenant shook his head and reached for a cigar but threw it down. ‘Don’t think so. We searched everywhere. There was no sign of her.’

  He let out a long sigh and leant against the wall, studying the ceiling. If she was still alive—no, no, he must eradicate the possibility she might be dead from his mind—was she frightened? Alone? Helpless? He wanted to lash out, hit something and feel the pain of the blow to share her suffering. He felt useless, discussing it in a downtown office. He should be out there searching for her.

  ‘Perhaps someone has her and will let her go.’ His voice sounded like someone else’s, full of false hope and impotent. ‘Was it Bulldog Benton’s people, the bastards?’ He balled a fist and slammed it on the table.

  ‘No,’ the lieutenant picked his words with care. ‘more likely the serial killer. One consolation, the only consolation, is if it’s him, he probably hasn’t hurt her.’

  He raised his eyes to meet his brother’s, and for the first time in years, there was a bond. ‘That’s the one thing I couldn’t bear.’ Although he didn’t want it to, his mind rewound like a video to their discovery of the girl’s body.

  She looked at peace, but she was still dead.

  Solo had gone to a corner of the room with a hand over her face and, from the way her shoulders were shaking, he could tell she was crying and didn’t want him to see.

  Silence pervaded the room, growing stronger and making it harder to break as each was unwilling to speak for fear of revealing their thoughts. Eventually, he asked, ‘Any suspects?’ He clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to suggest she might be dead.

  The lieutenant clasped his hands together and lowered his head. ‘Nothing concrete. Just the same MO as I mentioned, all four girls had a small puncture on their left arm. There was nothing else.’ He glanced back up at him as if answering an unasked question. ‘They all had the same blood type.’

  ‘Same as Becky’s?’

  His brother nodded.

  ‘So, what is he, a vampire? The papers are full of stories about the men with their throats bitten.’

  ‘It’s more complicated.’ In exasperation, the lieutenant reached for another cigar, jamming it in his mouth, and for the first time in years lit it. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling and disappear into an air-conditioning vent. ‘The men were drugged and bitten by a human and left to bleed out. They were violent deaths. With the children, it was a medical procedure. They were otherwise unharmed and laid to rest in a cemetery.’

  ‘Apart from the victim, we found last night.’

  ‘Yes, that was a change to his MO.’ The lieutenant paused, eyes far away. ‘But this is more complicated.’

  He slumped into a chair. ‘In what way?’

  ‘We are unable to identify the first three girls he killed.’

  He snorted, ‘But you had the bodies?’

  ‘Yes, we found them, and you discovered the fourth in the alley.’

  What’s he not telling me?

  His brother stared at the wall as if he’d find the right words there. ‘None of them has been reported missing. And we have no records for them as though they were killed somewhere else and brought here.’

  ‘Illegal immigrants?’

  ‘Unlikely, racial profiling doesn’t suggest that, and they’d been in perfect health and well cared for. But the strangest thing is that all four had a microchip implanted in their left hand.’

  He was listening, but all he could think of was Becky. He must do something.

  ‘We have four bodies in the mortuary, but it’s as if they don’t exist,’ the lieutenant added. ‘Not wanted in life, not wanted in death.’

  One of the lieutenant’s men brought in a couple of coffees and added a slug of brandy. Solo gestured she should leave, but his demeanour persuaded her to stay.

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about this.’ The lieutenant stared down at the table, avoiding eye contact. ‘Not your fault.’

  ‘Should have been there for her,’ he exhaled. ‘If I had been, this wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘We’ll get Becky back.’ The words fell as heavy as paving stones but without conviction. ‘We’ve got to keep on searching and hoping. Whatever you think, we all love you and will support you all the way.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Family problems were the last thing he was thinking about, but his brother needed to talk to deaden the raw pain. And perhaps Becky’s abduction was giving him the chance to say things needing to be said before it was too late.

  ‘You never liked us calling you Junior. At first, it was fun to rile you, but then it became a habit.’

  ‘Didn’t like it.’

  ‘Sorry.’ The lieutenant looked him straight in the eyes. ‘It wasn’t me saying I was better than you. It was never that.’ He shook his head, vigorously. ‘You got to believe me.’

  ‘Could have fooled me.’

  ‘I’m not like you, I’m a straight up and down guy,’ his brother said with a self-deprecatory laugh. He took out another cigar and stuck it in the corner of his mouth, and for a moment, it seemed to give him some comfort.

  ‘Boring?’

  ‘Might say that.’ A suggestion of regret tainted the lieutenant’s hoarse laugh. ‘Guess it was expected, me being the firstborn and all that. Had to toe the line, get the grades, be respectable. Owed it to our parents.’

  ‘While I was the opposite, the rebel. Looks like you’re making excuses for me.’ He moved across the room.

  ‘Not quite, let’s say you had a special licence. If I stuck to the rules, it allowed you to break them.’

  He stopped pacing and studied his brother, noticing a side of him he’d never witnessed before.

  ‘I wanted to be more like you. Go out and do things. Grow my hair long like yours, have a drink or three, wear outrageous clothes. Just be me.’

  ‘So why not? What stopped you?’

  ‘Parents’ expectations can sometimes be too heavy to bear. Imagine ma’s and pa’s reaction. They’d have been disappointed, and it would have broken their hearts. I did what they wanted, passing every exam. Went into the police, worked my butt off, became a regular guy, a respected member of the community. A buttoned-down kind of guy.’ And added with a smile, ‘Yes, boring.’

  ‘So, what I got up to didn’t matter?’

  ‘You had freedom, but that didn’t mean they didn’t care.’

  ‘Felt like it.’

  ‘Guess so, but no one could have been prouder of you. Pa watched all your fights on television. He often asked friends round to watch. Even seen him trying out your trademark headlock on them.’

  ‘Didn’t realise that.’ He came back and sat opposite.

  ‘And ma was proud in her own way, although she never talked about your wrestling, scared you might get hurt one day. Didn’t watch your fights, but she was listening in the kitchen. And when it was all over, and you’d won, she had a secret smile and then came in and switched off the television and talked about something else.’

  He shook his head slowly. This was all news to him.

  ‘When Bulldog died in the ring, we were all devastated for you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to kill him. He had a hereditary weakness in his neck.’


  ‘But you were exonerated.’

  ‘Yeah, but you were the guy who arrested me.’

  The lieutenant rubbed a hand over his head. ‘Consider it from my side. We had to. If I’d said I wasn’t going to, how would that have looked? Not arresting a guy because he was family. God help me, I didn’t want to, but I thought it was better me than someone else. I’ve spent many sleepless nights remembering that.’

  Just as well he wasn’t the executioner.

  ‘Bulldog’s death haunts me every time I stop and think. He was a good guy, a friend, despite the hype you may have seen on television. People tried to get me back in the ring, and the fans wanted me to do the same to some other poor guy. But I couldn’t. Every guy I fought; I’d see him.’ Bulldog was also the father of two children, although it wasn’t the time to mention it.

  ‘That’s all in the past.’

  He looked away. ‘No matter what you do, you can’t escape the past. His family and friends won’t let me forget. They want me to pay for what I did, either through the courts or preferably in blood. That’s why I have to keep moving. That’s why it was important Becky stayed with you and Jane.’

  The mention of her name caught in his throat. ‘If I remain in a place long enough, they’ll catch up with me. Can’t even hold down a job without them finding me.’

  ‘It won’t last forever.’

  ‘Hope so.’ Although he was unconvinced. ‘Sometimes, I just want to step out of this world. Disappear and live a normal life again.’ But he wanted to change the conversation. It should be Becky they were talking about. ‘Can I go see Jane and Brett? I want to tell her I don’t blame her.’

  ‘She’d appreciate that. We’ve told Brett that Becky’s gone to stay with friends for a couple of days, but you know kids. They’re smart, they pick up on things. More people than usual coming to the house, and he’s caught his mother in tears. He’s playing with his toys and keeps asking when she’s coming home.’

  He touched his brother’s arm, the first time they’d had physical contact in years. ‘You’ll find her. If anyone can, you can.’