“All right?”
“OK, dad.”
“In fact, you don’t tell anyone what I just said.” Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you cross me on this, boy.”
“I won’t.”
Gene’s father opened the door and waved.
“Hi honey! Coffee’s on.”
25
Kirkfallen Island 2000
Gene stared at the wall of the gang hut, lost in thought. Poppy and Millar were playing chess on a tatty wooden board laid across the tea chest.
“Checkmate,” Poppy crowed. “Maybe you’d have better luck if you camouflaged the pieces. Gave them funny hats like yours.”
“You lulled me into a sense of false security by looking like you had an IQ of 70.”
“Actresses are supposed to look dumb.” Poppy patted her bob daintily. “Just like Marylyn Monroe.”
“Yeah. She also looked pretty.”
“That’s just acting.”
Millar gave up and tipped over his king. “You want a game Gene?”
“Jackson Head,” Gene said. “The answers to all our questions are in that abandoned base on Jackson Head. I just know it.”
“Unless you’ve taken up pole vaulting, that’s where they’ll have to stay.”
“No. I’m going there.” Gene slapped a hand on his knee. “Who’s coming with me?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t you want to know what’s going on? Don’t you want answers?”
“Not enough to be grounded forever.”
“We’ve spent our whole lives on this little bit of land,” Gene snarled. “We’ve never asked questions. We’re so fucking… contented! So complacent!”
“I like the island.” Poppy frowned. “What’s got into you?”
“Something’s not right!” Gene could hardly contain his anger. “Real teenagers are rebellious. They take chances!”
“There’s a good chance of this teenager being grounded for ever if he even goes near the Fence.”
“I’ve been thinking about your books, Millar. They’re full of wars and arguments and exploration and discoveries. None of the adults here do anything like that. None of the kids either.” Gene clenched his fists by his side.
“WE’RE NOT NORMAL!”
There was a stunned silence.
“Is that a bad thing?” Poppy asked tentatively. “I mean. We’re happy.”
“I’m not happy anymore,” Gene said bitterly. “I got too many questions. And I’m going to Jackson Head to find out the answers, with or without the two of you.”
A longer silence this time. Poppy quietly began setting up the chess pieces again.
“Well since your happiness is obviously my prime concern,” Millar sighed. “I better come with you.”
“Really?”
“You’re my friend. We watch out for each other. Always have.”
They both looked at Poppy.
“Our parents told us Jackson Head was really dangerous.”
“I can confidently say our parents haven’t been telling the entire truth about this place.” Gene gave a disarming smile. “But we’ve always done everything together. We gonna stop now?”
“Besides, Poppy,” Millar chimed in. “We’ll need you to lie at the bottom of the Fence to use as a trampoline.”
“Whatever. Find a way over that doesn’t require me throwing Millar and I’ll come along.”
“We’ll use a ladder,” Gene said. “After all, what do we all know how to do?”
“Annoy you?”
“No.” The boy smiled for the first time that day.
“We know how to build.”
That night Gene lay in his bed, wide awake, despite the late hour. He could hear his parents talking softly in the next room. On impulse he got up and crept to the door. It was open a crack.
He could see his parents sitting side by side at their narrow kitchen table, drinking from tin mugs. The fire crackled in the grate and red light and black shadow wrestled for dominance along the walls
“What did you tell Gene?” Annie Stapleton whispered.
“Not much. But he’s a smart kid. He’s getting more and more inquisitive. He was asking about the Orbisons.”
“I been thinking about that myself,” she admitted. “Any word on when they’ll be coming?” The mug trembled in her hand. “It must be soon.”
“I imagine so.” Her husband stirred his tea slowly and deliberately. “It’s what we planned for.”
“But so many things could go wrong.”
“I don’t need reminding of that.”
“It keeps me awake at night, Eddie.” The woman sounded exhausted. “Lying there wondering if we’re not every bit as evil as the forces we’re bringing down on Fallen.”
“You think I don’t?” Edward grunted. “This gamble doesn’t pay off? We’ll be sacrificing our own kids for nothing.”
The large figure got up and pushed a poker into the fire, stirring the flames.
“But I haven’t heard you come up with a better idea.”
Orange lambency washed back and forth across his broad shoulders.
And Gene hurried back to his bed, all hope of sleep extinguished.
26
Amblin Cottage, The Hebrides 2000
Apathy woke, lying on a strange bed. For a few seconds she was confused. Then bewilderment gave way to terror as vague memories of the last few hours separated themselves from her dreams. She recalled a nightmare journey in a windowless van, drifting in and out of consciousness, the overpowering smell being held to her face every time she seemed to be waking.
The roof above the bed was low, with unpainted wooden beams striping its surface. Her head throbbed when she turned to look across the room. Under an attic window with bright yellow curtains was a small table with a salad and a can of coke sitting on it.
She rolled over, wincing.
A man was sitting on a wicker chair on the other side of the room. Apathy slithered away, eyes wide, almost falling off the bed.
“Steady there.” The stranger put out a hand, though he didn’t attempt to rise from his seat. “You probably have a bad headache, but it’ll pass.”
“Who are you? Where am I?” Apathy struggled into a sitting position. “My mum will be looking for me!”
“I don’t doubt it.” The man reached out and switched on the bedside lamp. “I’ve been searching for you myself.”
The shadows were obliterated and Apathy saw a broad tight lipped face, framed by shoulder length greying hair. Despite the age she immediately recognised the features from her mother’s photograph.
“Oh my God. It’s you!”
“Hi there.” The man waggled his fingers her. “The notorious D.B. Salty. Also known as Dan Walton, Dan Bundy and a dozen other names. Including dad, I guess.”
Apathy gripped the covers, her head spinning.
“You should eat something.” Her father gestured towards the sparse meal on the table. “I assumed, since you’ve turned sixteen, that you’re on some kind of diet.”
“How long have I been here?” Apathy looked around for a clock. “My mum will be going crazy.”
“She knows you’re with me. My associate left her a note. She just doesn’t know where you are.”
“You kidnapped me!”
“I’m wanted by about every organisation under the sun,” Dan said dismissively. “I can hardly get into more trouble.”
“But you’re my father.” Apathy relaxed slightly, sensing that she was in no immediate danger. “Why didn’t you just get in touch normally?”
“Couldn’t exactly go strolling up to your door, could I?” Dan got up and went round the bed. The teenager watched him apprehensively but he merely picked up the tray of food and put it on the covers.
“It’s been a long time. Wasn’t sure of the reception I’d receive.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
Dan raised an eyebrow.
“No. We just need to t
alk.”
“I want to leave.” Apathy stuck out her chin. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Actually I can. You are in an extremely grave situation.”
“I can see that.”
“I don’t mean me.” Her father sat on the edge of her bed. “I have a story I need to tell you. Then you’re free do whatever you decide is best.”
“Does that include leaving?”
“We’ll discuss that.”
“My mum will be worried sick. What if she calls the police?”
“I don’t think she will, but I’m prepared to take that chance. Right now, this is the safest place in the world for you.”
Dan opened the can of Coke on the tray. It gave an evil fizz and frothed over the top of the tin.
“I won’t harm you. You have to trust me on that.”
“Trust you? I don’t even know you.”
“I’m the famous Houdini Killer.” Dan grinned broadly, crossing to the door and opening it.
“If I had murder in mind, you’d already be dead.”
As soon as her father was gone Apathy tested the window, but it was locked. It was dark outside, with no house or streetlights deflating the void. Despite her dread, Apathy returned to the bed and ate the salad. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was.
Once the teenager had finished, she tried the bedroom door. It opened and she stepped into a snug, sparsely decorated living room. There was a log fire burning in the grate and a dining table with a chequered tablecloth in the corner. Her father sat on a stool beside it, wrapping a present. On a chair by the fire was a short, overweight man, considerably younger than her dad, with a thick fringe of black hair and a pleasant, round face.
“Apathy Walton,” he said, rising and holding out a podgy hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you properly. Happy birthday, by the way.”
Apathy kept her arms at her side.
“Who are you?” she asked rudely.
“I like her,” the short man grinned. “She’s feisty.”
“This is Mr Gacy, aka Colin Walton.” Dan lit a cigarette and waved it at his companion.
“Apathy, I’d like you meet your uncle.”
27
Amblin Cottage 2000
Colin and Dan sat by the fire drinking wine and smoking cigarettes. Apathy perched on a stool next to the window, looking forlornly at her presents. Dan had presented her with a gleaming Swiss Army knife and Colin had given her a silver heart on a chain. Despite the gifts, she hadn’t spoken for half an hour. A glass of wine sat on the table in front of her, untouched.
Dan and Colin didn’t seem to mind. They were obviously used to each other’s company and had become embroiled in a lively debate.
“You kidnap your own daughter and then you give her a knife as a present.” Colin looked warily in the direction of his silent niece. “What if she stabs us in our beds?”
“It’s a Swiss army knife, not a machete. If she wanted to kill us there’s a meat cleaver in the kitchen.”
“Oh, that’s a bit of information she sorely needed to know.” Colin poured himself another glass. “I’ll be sleeping in the shed tonight.”
“She’s not going to kill us, Colin. If she does, she’ll never know the rest of the story.”
“Maybe she’s not a curious person.”
“She’s Emily’s daughter. She’ll want to find out.”
“My mother never tried,” Apathy said viciously. “She didn’t even tell me about you ‘till yesterday.”
“That’s because she was trying to protect you.” Dan shook a cigarette from its packet and lit it. “Now it’s our turn.”
“Then why didn’t you come back and do it sooner? Why wait fifteen years?”
“You and your mom haven’t exactly been easy to find.” Dan looked embarrassed. “It was Colin who finally tracked you down.”
“Can’t hide anything from a psychic investigator,” Apathy’s uncle gave a small bow.
“Psychic investigator?”
“One of our many side-lines,” Colin said affably. “Actually, we’re con men. There’s a lot of cash to be made convincing gullible punters that we’ve got in touch with their dead granny.”
“Oh, very nice.” Apathy turned her back on them again.
“How is your mother these days?” Dan asked.
“None of your business.”
Her father pursed his lips angrily, but said nothing. He picked up the wine bottle. It was empty. He got up and went out to the van to get more.
“You’re pretty uppity,” Colin yawned. “Back chatting the notorious D.B. Salty.”
“You don’t seem scared of him.”
“True.” He stretched his arms, revealing a bulging midriff. “Well, well. As far as I can see this parent and child relationship is going to be a bit of a sticky wicket.”
“No kidding.”
“Ever heard of J.B. Watson, father of the Behaviourist movement?” Colin looked at the ceiling, trying to remember correctly.
"I quote. Children should be brought up by scientific method rather than an emotional basis, with no kissing cuddling or mollycoddling. One of his sons committed suicide and the other became a psychoanalyst - much to Watson’s annoyance.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about”.
“On the other hand, we have Dr. Spock...saying that parents should get all kissy-kissy with their little mites. His book, Baby and Child Care outsold every publication in America, except the Bible of course. Then he admitted he didn't have a clue what he was talking about. He also won a gold medal for skiing in the 1924 Olympics, but that's beside the point.”
“My mum will be going frantic.”
“Dan Salty has spent his life trying to protect your mother.” Colin’s voice suddenly became hard and flat. “When that meant staying away, he stayed away. Now it means taking you here, so he took you here. It’s how it has to be.”
“Where are we?”
“We’re on one of the islands in the Hebrides. As deserted as the moon and, judging by the way this party’s going, it’s got just as poisonous an atmosphere.”
“And what are you doing here? My mum said D B Salty killed you.”
“Maybe she lied. It wouldn’t be the first time she lied to you, now would it?”
“Maybe you’re the kind of uncle nobody likes to admit to.”
“God, you’re a firecracker.” Colin gave a hearty laugh. “This is a family filled with secrets, Apathy. I got mine. Your mum has hers. But you’ll probably get the truth out of Dan. All you have to do is make him promise. He never breaks a promise.”
“Is he going to kill me?”
“Of course not.” Colin looked shocked. “You’re family.”
“So were his mum and dad.” Apathy gritted her teeth. “So was my grandmother.”
The smile slid from her uncle’s face.
The door swung open and a blast of icy air swept Dan into the cottage. He gave a heartfelt shiver and marched over to the fire, plonking two bottles of wine on the hearth. He threw himself down on the chair, unscrewed the top and poured himself a drink.
“I don’t suppose you have a picture of your mom?”
“She would never let anyone take one.” Apathy wasn’t about to let the only photograph she had out of her possession.
“Clever girl.” Dan sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Clever, clever girl.”
“Do you know that she loved you?”
“I take back that last comment.”
The room lapsed into silence. Colin looked at Dan and then at his niece.
“Tell her, D.B. She deserves to hear your side.”
“I don’t think she wants to hear anything I have to say.”
“Yes I do.” Apathy retorted. “If you promise to tell me the truth.”
Dan shot Colin a dirty look. The shorter man stared at the ceiling, twiddling his thumbs.
“All right I promise. I’m… just not sure where to start.”
“The beginnin
g, dad.”
Dan blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth and shut it again.
“You called me dad.”
Apathy waited.
“This whole mess began on a summer’s day. August 1978.” Dan took a deep breath.
“That was the day I killed my father.”
28
Fraser, Colorado
1978
Dan heard his parents screaming at each other when he came home from school. Nothing unusual in that. His father had been stationed in Vietnam and returned a changed man - it seemed fighting was all he remembered how to do. Dan’s mother, on the other hand, had got used to independence and now treated her husband as an occupying force.
Dan ignored the shouting, went upstairs to his bedroom and shut the door. The walls reverberated with the muffled sound of this particular conflict. The boy lay on his bed and tried to read a book but he couldn’t concentrate. The yelling intensified.
Then there was silence.
Dan waited, holding his breath. He knew the battling would begin again and no amount of hoping or wishing would change that.
Only, this time, the house stayed ominously quiet.
He got up and opened the bedroom door. The unaccustomed silence was more frightening than the argument. Yet he knew his parents were both in the house or he would have heard the front door slam.
Nothing. No sounds of his father trying to explain away his outburst. No muted crying from his mother as she put ice on her bruised face.
Dan crept quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen
Wilma Salty lay on the floor in a pool of blood, one leg at a strange angle. Her mouth was open and so were her eyes.
A knife stuck out of her chest.
Dan knelt beside his mother. There was no point in feeling for a pulse. Even at this young age, Dan knew his mother was dead.
“Aw, no mom.” He rocked back on his heels. “Aw, no.”
He pulled the blade from her lifeless body and put it on the kitchen table. Opened the living room door.
Alex Salty was hunched on the couch, head in hands, his face ashen.
The Kirkfallen Stopwatch Page 9
