by Mark Ayre
Liz fell, the monsters caught her and brought her in line with Amira, both held fast by eager to please hands.
Unfortunately, they were eager to please Heidi, rather than Amira and Liz.
Once they were side by side, Amira said, “Honestly, it was on a plate. I made sure all the right pieces were in all the right places. All you had to do was put one blade through one heart.”
“Which we did.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear. It wasn’t supposed to be an indiscriminate stabbing. You were supposed to murder the right person.”
“We were tricked. That bitch Olivia must have called the demon. I wondered why she’d come with us. I admit, she pulled the wool over my eyes. Then again, Richard didn’t pipe up that he’d lost out. Bastard was so full of his power and cunningness. He probably didn’t even notice he was the same man.”
“You screwed up,” said Amira. “I died to make this work.”
“You’re not dead.”
“Well, that’s not my fault. I was at Richard’s mercy, done for. I can’t help my raw, animal, sexual appeal.”
“When you’re quite finished,” said Heidi. “I thought you might like to know what happens next.”
“Not really,” said Amira.
Mercury attacked, swinging a fist at Heidi. Like lightning, Heidi struck back, dodging Mercury’s blow and landing a fist in her attacker’s stomach. As though that fist was a sledgehammer, Mercury rose and collapsed, writhing.
Before the still stunned Trey could get himself together to flee or attack, Heidi grabbed his arm and squeezed.
Over his scream, she said, “You’re all very rude. You don’t want to know, but I’ll tell you anyway. Today, the most powerful of my kind will rise. I will bless Mercury with his occupancy.”
She smiled at Mercury, as though this were an honour, then looked at Liz and Amira as though her next offer would be something she believed a punishment. Which would presumably be bad, but better than what Mercury was getting.
“Kill Amira,” she said, which was almost the best-case scenario. “Make Liz watch, then let her go.”
“No,” said Liz. “Kill me.”
“Yeah,” said Amira. “Kill her.”
With a yank of her arm, Quincy tugged Amira to the ground. A second later, his boot was on her throat. Liz tried to attack but was immediately grabbed by three or four of the maniacs, who restrained her, but held her close.
With a podgy finger, Quincy pointed at a woman across from him. She was slim and attractive and looked both frightened and determined.
“Do it,” he said. He drew a blade from his belt and pressed it into her hand. Amira thought of how kind he had seemed, and how all that friendly old man charm had sapped from his face oh so quickly. She wondered if his dog was still sitting patiently in the back of the car, waiting. She doubted the dog had been infected, but couldn’t rule it out.
The woman with the blade knelt beside her.
“Don’t worry,” said Liz. “She’s not going to kill you.”
“Yeah?” said Amira. “You have a plan?”
“No. You just always seemed to dodge these bullets.”
“I actually didn’t dodge the bullet.”
“You know what I mean.”
“True,” said Amira. She remembered how she saw life as a movie. As she did, a car spun around the corner and pulled up behind the crowd.
Said crowd parted as the door flew open and a desperate man almost tumbled to the tarmac. His eyes fell to the woman with the blade.
“Stop Gina,” he shouted. “I won't let you become a killer.”
Liz said, “told you.”
Forty-Two
From the ground, clutching her throbbing stomach, Mercury was alarmed to hear she was again to play host to a demon; horrified to hear her friend’s death sentence.
Amira couldn’t catch a break.
If this almighty being possessed Mercury, her body would walk and talk and kill, but she would be gone. Unless the host experienced the actions of the virus, without the ability to intervene. She could imagine nothing worse.
Not keen on being paralysed by the potential horror of this scenario, Mercury shelved it and climbed to her knees. Still clutching her midriff, she found herself in line with the door into the warehouse in which lay the dead Richard, who was supposed to contain the dead Heidi.
Another issue for later consideration.
At the opposite end of the warehouse was the fire escape though which the living driver had fled. If Mercury could get there, there was a chance she could slip through Heidi’s net. The demon, while close enough to stop her, was distracted. She had hold of Trey, making him unsavable, but did he deserve freedom?
All of it was moot. Across the tarmac, a foot held Amira to the ground. A woman hovered over her with a blade.
If Mercury tried to save her friend, Heidi could catch her before she halved the distance to the execution.
Heidi might decide not to pursue Mercury, but only because she would know there was zero chance Mercury could reach Amira in time. Heidi would delight in watching Mercury try and fail.
As such, Mercury was better off going for the fire escape.
Yet, she would run for Amira. Not because Amira had moved heaven and earth to save Mercury; and had been willing to sacrifice her life in pursuit of this aim, though this was incentive enough, but because Mercury loved her best friend. Leaving her was not an option.
She was going for it.
As she made the decision, a car pulled up.
Will jumped out.
Shocked, Heidi released Trey and stepped forward. Before Mercury knew what was happening, a fight had broken out. Bodies were piling in. The dynamic changed. Mercury saw what she had to do.
Jumping to her feet, ignoring the pain, she bolted for the warehouse door, grabbing Trey and dragging him along.
“No,” shouted Heidi, spinning, but they were gone.
Diving into the warehouse, Mercury slammed the door. The lock was automatic; a beep indicated it had engaged. Heidi had no key.
Richard lay on the floor, spread like a star. He was on his front, the hilt of the blade protruded from his back like the sword in the stone.
Heidi kicked the door. Under the brute force of her foot, it buckled, bent, but did not break. It would take only a couple more attempts.
Designating herself King Arthur, Mercury dipped, grabbed the knife and pulled it free. Gesturing to Trey, she rushed across the stone floor towards the back exit.
Heidi kicked the door again, and it flew off its hinges. With an elegant calm of which the previous owner of her body would be proud, she strutted into the warehouse.
As she entered, she saw Trey’s heel disappear through the fire escape. Behind him, the door clattered shut.
Losing a little of that Olivia cool, she dashed to the fire escape and bashed it open, rushing into daylight.
A small patch of grass split the fire doors of the various units from a pathway and two-lane road. Beyond the road was a sheer wall leading to a raised train track. There were no moving vehicles in sight.
Neither Trey nor Mercury were anywhere to be seen.
They hadn’t run. There were turns off this road either left or right of the fire escape. The first turn to the right would loop back to the gated entrance of the industrial estate where warred Heidi’s minions with Amira, Liz and William, the newcomer. This was the closest turn; there was no way Trey and Mercury had reached it in the available time.
Nor had they scaled the wall to the train tracks. Not possible for a human. All the fire escape doors were closed. The one through which she had come had shut behind her. Even if it hadn’t, they couldn’t have returned through. Heidi would have seen them. It’s closure meant that avenue of escape was gone.
There was no moving traffic along the road, but parked cars dotted the side closest to the warehouse as far as the eye could see. Given their pathetic human speed, Mercury and Trey could have reached the f
ar side of only six cars. Three to either side of the fire escape.
They could be behind any one of these six. More likely, they were behind two.
They weren’t stupid, and the smart play was to go straight from the fire escape, between the first two cars, then split. When Heidi approached, she would have to turn left or right. Whoever she turned away from would attack.
They had only one knife. Of that she was sure. There had been only three and two were in the lorry with dead Harvey. She’d been stupid to leave the third in Richard. Trey had been there and taking it would have aroused his suspicion. Her little game, pretending to be Olivia, had put her on the back foot.
No use worrying. The knife was useless until it pierced her heart. And sure, Mercury had killed two of her kind; maybe a third. Heidi didn’t know what had happened with Yassin. Irrelevant, she was older, smarter, and stronger than any of them. She would not let these humans get the better of her.
Angry at her procrastination, she realised she had to do something they would not expect.
If they had split, they planned to wait for her to step between two of the cars. It was their only play, given they couldn’t run. Besides, they had already proven they could be brave, and they were hell-bent on destroying her.
So, surprise them.
Smiling at the idea, Heidi hopped atop the nearest car’s roof. From on high, she could see along the line of vehicles, and who was hiding behind them.
No one was hiding behind them.
As she began to ponder this issue, she heard movement. She turned towards the fire escapes and saw a rock disappear through the grass.
They had tricked her.
She span, but Trey, having slipped from beneath the car on the road side rose and grabbed her ankles. Before she could do anything, he yanked, and she fell.
Her back cracked the car; her head the concrete. There was a little dizziness, but only the embarrassment hurt.
Before she could spend too long chastising herself, Trey was on her. He had the blade and a look of fiery determination in his eyes. She hadn’t recovered her senses as he plunged the knife towards her.
She grabbed his hand.
And felt the blade slide through her flesh.
Screaming, she withdrew her legs, got them beneath Trey and kicked.
By her standards, the kick was powerless. To Trey, she might have been kickboxing world champion. He left the ground, flew back, and hit the concrete.
The knife went skidding along the road.
Rising, Heidi roared and felt the wound.
Blood was pouring. For a second, she thought she was dead.
No. When she’d grabbed Trey’s hand, she’d forced the blade down. It had half-submerged in her stomach, and from there, the blood flowed. Because it was poisonous, the pain was excruciating. Because it hadn’t been a shot to the heart, she would live.
Good for her, bad for Trey.
He was scrabbling for the blade and fair play to him. He’d suffered a fair number of knocks recently. Despite this, he got his hand to the blade and began to turn.
Too late. She grabbed his shirt at his back, lifted him into the air, and tossed him into the side of a car.
With an oof, he came to the ground. Again, the blade fled. Again, Trey gave chase.
She kicked him and swept to catch the blade, clutching it and swooping it in an arc in one swift motion. Over the train lines, it disappeared.
There was no longer a chance of him killing her.
Despite that, he came again.
With ease and a sigh, she caught him. As he roared, she broke his arms.
A beat. Then the screaming began.
Getting behind him, she put a hand over his mouth. She hoisted him into the air, holding him tight enough to feel his body wring with the screams she had rendered inaudible.
“I love your bravery and determination,” she said, “but it wasn’t enough. With me, it will never be enough.”
She approached the warehouses but paused with a flash of shock.
“Hang on. Where’s Mercury?”
Trey’s attempted screams had become attempted whimpers. Even without her hand across his mouth, he would have been in too much pain to speak.
She dropped him. Considered. When she realised they’d duped her again, she sighed, chuckled, and shook her head.
Picking up Trey, she began to walk towards the fire escape, then paused.
“No, no, Trey, that’s what she wants us to do, isn’t it?”
A second longer she considered, then a grin split her face.
“Come on, forget killing them. I know how we can really make them hurt.”
Forty-Three
In Imran’s old room, Edie slept. Will was terrified to leave her. If not for Gina, he wouldn’t. Would never risk her losing her father as well as her mother. He had no choice. If he thought he could explain without her insisting on coming, he would. Instead, he wrote a letter.
In the master bedroom, Xyla slept. Still on her knees, Kayla now rested her head on the mattress. For her daughter, she was fighting to stay awake. Given all that had happened, and how many hours since she last slept, it was a battle she could never win. The forces of sleep were amassing. She couldn’t hold them much longer.
Will wanted to relieve her, so she could sleep and be sure Xyla was safe. If he didn’t have to go, he would have offered, and she would have rejected. This was his fault. Even if they came through it safely, she would never forgive him. She was right not to.
“I have to go after Gina,” he said. “I have to go now.”
Afraid of waking Xyla, he kept his voice low. He was behind Kayla. She didn’t shift or look back. At first, he thought he had spoken too quietly. She hadn’t heard him.
Then she said, “How will you find her?”
“Leon. He let me know where she is.”
When Will had answered the phone, Quincy spoke. Heidi needs us, he’d said. Come now. He’d given an address and hung up without awaiting an answer. He was expecting neither refusal nor follow up questions.
“That monster would have killed me,” said Kayla of Leon.
“I know.”
“Would have killed my daughter and your daughter too.”
“I know.”
“You should kill him.”
“I know.”
Kayla said nothing more. As he could not see her face, he couldn’t tell what she thought. Nor did he know if his inability to kill Leon was weakness or strength. They would have to decide what to do with him, but later. Well restrained, Leon wasn’t going anywhere. Gina would.
“I know you said you would leave the moment Xyla woke,” Will said. There was more, but he stopped, afraid to ask.
“I won’t leave Edie alone,” Kayla said. “I hate you for what you’ve done to my daughter and me, but she’s innocent. I wouldn’t leave her.”
Deciding another apology would be pointless. Will only nodded and said, “Thank you.”
“Be quick,” Kayla said. “If Xyla and Edie wake, I’ll try to persuade your daughter to come with me. If you’re going to bring your wife back, and your wife is anything like Leon, will Edie be safe?”
Will couldn’t answer. Over Kayla’s shoulder, he stood watching the sleeping baby for twenty seconds.
“Shouldn’t you be going?” said Kayla.
In the car, in the driveway, Will was overcome with terror. Less than 12 hours ago he had slipped into bed missing his wife, worrying about an affair, but nothing more.
If she had been cheating, he would have dreaded telling his mother. Losing Gina would have preoccupied his thoughts. If she were willing, he would have fought for their marriage.
Guilt crept around his throat. Fifteen perfect years. Almost fifteen. He thought again of his plans for their anniversary and remembered her excitement of the upcoming day. How could he have considered that, under normal circumstances, she would cheat?
Corrupted by a demon she thought was a God, she had become something
less than the Gina he knew and loved. Trapped inside the body of the woman who had tried to kill Paul and who had chained Will to a radiator, he knew his wife remained. If he could reach her; stop her doing something truly awful, he could save her.
They could have that perfect anniversary, as planned.
On his wife, he would never give up.
For another minute, fear choked him, then he started the car, and made the journey to the address Quincy had given him. An industrial estate not far from his home.
Swinging into the road which contained the entrance to the small estate, he saw a group of maybe twenty people, forming a ring around something or someone he could not see. He was reminded of schoolyard brawls. Two kids in the centre, hitting and kicking and biting in a mad frenzy. Mounds of kids in a ring around the combatants chanting fight, fight, fight.
Will was the teacher sent to break up the fight. To do so, he had first to penetrate the crowd of excited kids. Not wanting their entertainment ruined, they might not make it easy for him to get through.
As he stopped the car, heads turned. Contrary to his fears, the spectators folded out to spy the new arrival. In doing so, they opened a pathway to the scrap’s central participants.
There was no scrap.
Quincy had his foot on the neck of a woman Will didn’t recognise. Leaning over the same woman, with a knife, was Gina. Like Kayla, she was on her knees. The difference being her intentions were murderous, rather than protective.
He tripped as he scrambled from his car and almost went to the concrete as he called his wife.
“Stop, Gina. I won't let you become a killer.”
In the crowd, a woman said, “Told you.” Will noticed she was being held tight around the arms to ensure she couldn’t flee.
With the woman on the floor and the woman held still, he felt an affinity.
“Will,” said Gina. “Why are you here? Go home.”
“Too late,” said Quincy. He clicked his fingers and pointed at a handful of spectators. “Bring him.”
Gina was still staring at Will. Quincy, too, had lost focus on the task in hand. This made it simple for their victim to pluck Gina’s knife. As Quincy’s foot was on her throat, Will assumed she would stab him in the leg. Instead, she plunged the blade into the thigh of one of the men holding the other woman.
