Ice Diaries

by Lexi Revellian

  “David. I used to know him … reassuring to have a dentist on board.”

  Ginger laughed. “Raj isn’t a lot of use, no kit. He used to be a top Harley Street cosmetic dentist. He’ll tell you what’s wrong and what treatment he’d do if he had the equipment, then say come back if it gets too painful and he’ll take it out. Give him his due, he’s good at extractions. Fast.” He gathered up his tools. “That’s done. Come and let me top you up.”

  We lolled around on the sofa, drinking and talking. Pleasant though it was, I was longing for bed after the day’s events and all the rushing around, and kept yawning.

  Later Ginger led us to the mezzanine and showed us our room. The bedroom was furnished as if for a photo shoot, with lamps and cushions and vases and fur throws and a handful of books chosen for their looks. Toasty warm. A huge window would keep us abreast of how much snow nature was currently dealing out. I switched the lights on and off a few times, just because I could. The bathroom was so ridiculously opulent it made me laugh out loud. A free-standing tub, a marble floor and walls, and both the window and the mirror were floor-to-ceiling; no neighbours to worry about on the forty-first floor. The effect was slightly spoiled by a bucket with a lid, the only part of the room you could actually use. Ginger went and got us an electric kettle, an extension lead, two buckets of water and a plastic washing up bowl so we could wash.

  “If you need anything else, just shout,” he said.

  Ice Diaries ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 27

  Biscuit under the sofa

  It was not that my worries had disappeared; but they had for the moment slunk back to their lair to bide their time. I slept well in that warm room under only one duvet and the fur throw, with Morgan beside me. He woke me getting out of bed soon after daybreak. I shivered involuntarily when I remembered he was clearing the snow off the turbines for Ginger that morning, and felt delightfully snug as I watched him dress. There’d be a lot to clear if it had been snowing all night, enough to stop the blades turning; we hadn’t drawn the curtains, and thick flakes were still pelting past the windows. I couldn’t feel that subliminal vibration which meant the turbines were working.

  “D’you want me to come and help?” My heart was not in this offer.

  “No, it’s okay. Go back to sleep, it’s only six thirty.”

  “Don’t fall off the edge.” Darn, that slipped out.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Wasn’t planning to.”

  “Morgan, supposing Mike comes up here? I’d better come and bolt the door after you.”

  “You can if you like, but the lift’s off, and I can’t see him climbing the stairs. He’ll still be in bed. As soon as I’ve done this, we’ll look for the trailers and get out of here whatever the weather. We’ll hide somewhere till the snow eases.”

  “D’you think Randall will be any use? Ginger seemed to think so.”

  “No idea. He may be able to help, but I’d rather not wait to find out. Best to rely on ourselves.” He bent and kissed me. “See you later.”

  I shut my eyes. I thought of Morgan beside the turbines in driving snow, with nothing between him and a sheer drop. I curled into a ball, only my nose above the duvet. I thought of my poor flat, its windows gone and snow drifting in to cover my possessions, the stove out and the bed cold; my home that had sheltered me for a year. I turned over on my other side. I thought of Greg with only a rat for company, looking from his window to the burnt remains at Bézier. I tried lying on my back. I thought of Mike, and wondered what he was doing right now, and what he would do later that day. The unbolted door was niggling me. I had a vivid vision of Mike wandering around the flat holding the gun, opening the bedroom door and creeping in … My eyes sprang open on their own, and I shut them again. Nothing doing. I was wide awake. I got up, tiptoed downstairs and shot the bolts, then came back up. I put the kettle to boil for a thorough wash, deciding to use a whole bucket of water and do it in style.

  Ten minutes later, I dressed and went downstairs to see if there was any food I could scrounge. The kitchen was immaculate, with three stools lined up against a crisp white island unit. I opened the cupboards without much hope. Plenty of white crockery and glasses, four one-litre bottles full of water, but nothing to eat at all. Ginger had achieved a minor dream of all men, commonplace in other centuries; meals delivered regularly and no washing up ever. When would breakfast arrive? Presumably not till Ginger woke and turned on the lift, and he was having a lie-in.

  I wandered into the living area in the hope there might be nuts or crisps kicking around. I found and ate half a packet of peanuts, and was on my hands and knees reaching for the oat biscuit I’d spotted under the sofa when a knock on the door made me jump and bang my head on the coffee table. I scrambled to my feet, heart thumping. Morgan wouldn’t have finished yet. Perhaps he’d forgotten something.

  I walked to the door and listened. I couldn’t hear anything. “Who is it?”

  “David.”

  I opened the door and he walked into the room holding an empty plastic bottle. I shot the bolts again. “What are you doing here?” With my mingled emotions of fear and relief, this came out unwelcoming. He looked sweaty and exhausted and irritable. “Did you climb the stairs?”

  “Yes.” He slumped on the sofa. “Thirty-odd flights. Can I have some water?”

  I fetched two glasses and one of the litre bottles, poured, and handed him his. He drank. Movement above made me look up. Ginger, fully dressed, his hair sticking up, was walking down the stairs. I guessed he wasn’t much good at lie-ins. He didn’t seem surprised to see David.

  “Morning all.” He yawned. “Where’s Morgan?”

  “Clearing the turbines.”

  “Cool beans. I’ll turn on the lift and we’ll get some breakfast.”

  He left the flat, on his way to the turbine room. I turned my attention back to David, waiting for him to explain his presence.

  “I talked to Serena last night.” He tipped more water into the glass. “I was in the Hall and she came in, in a state, clutching bags with all her stuff in. Mike had thrown her out. They’d had a fight. I said everyone had disagreements, and she said no, this was final, he’d taken her sled key. She burst into floods of tears. She was really upset, saying she’d never get south, she’d die here. Then she started worrying the committee would take Mike’s side and think she was a troublemaker and not let her stay. So I bought her a drink and talked to her for a bit.”

  I remembered that was one of the good things about David; he liked to help people, and always made time for them if he could. Which thought made me ask, “What about Katie? Wouldn’t she have wondered where you’d got to?”

  He looked away. “As a matter of fact, we’d had a row and I wanted some time to myself.” Hmm. They seem to have a lot of rows. “Anyway, I offered to have a word with Mike, and Serena said that wouldn’t do any good. Then she told me all about him – about the business with Red, and the gun, and him nearly shooting Morgan. Why didn’t you tell me what he was like?”

  “I tried. I told you he was a psycho.” I was pleased Serena had done what I had failed to do, and made him see Mike in his true colours. He sat there, frowning down at his glass. “Where did Serena sleep, if Mike had kicked her out?”

  “On a sofa in the Hall. A woman lent her a blanket. She’d have come up here, but the lifts were off and she couldn’t face the climb.”

  Poor Serena. Maybe Ginger would let her move in to his spare room. After a bit I said, “So what brings you up here? Apart from the stairs.”

  “I came to apologize. I got Mike wrong, I thought he was a really nice guy. Maybe his offer of transport south over-influenced me. I was desperate to get Katie and Tessa away from the snow. Probably that made me uncritical, too keen to trust him. And I’m worried about you, if Mike’s determined to shoot Morgan. You’re in danger, being with him.”

  “We’re going to leave soon.” We should have gone as soon as we woke. Except we couldn’t because of
the snow. I was beginning to feel jumpy. “Did Serena say Mike knew we were here?”

  “Eddie told him you brought him back to Strata. He went to their flat after I realigned his nose again. It was a really tricky job, totally smashed up this time – I had to give him morphine.” He looked at me in a meaning way as if to make sure the message Morgan is a violent thug got home. “I put a fresh dressing on it, then once the bleeding had stopped, which took an hour, he left. I know he told Mike, because that’s what the row with Serena was about. He was angry she knew Morgan was in the building and hadn’t told him. He’s only got to ask around and he’ll find out you’re still here, and where you are. You can’t keep a secret in this place.”

  Everyone had seen us in the Hall, then Randall Pack had noticed us with Serena by the lifts, then Sue saw us when she came to clear the dishes …

  David stretched and consulted his watch. “I suppose I’d better go, once the lift’s working.”

  Politeness dictated I should ask him to stay for breakfast, but though David had rethought his opinion of Mike, he clearly disapproved of the new man in my life as much as ever, and Morgan would be down from the roof in twenty minutes or so. On the other hand, if Mike appeared the minute the lift was working I’d prefer not to be on my own. At that moment Ginger came back in.

  “Morgan’s not doing a bad job. He’s nearly finished one turbine already. I’m going down now to talk to Randall. When Sue comes up with my breakfast, just ask her to bring up whatever you fancy.”

  I thanked him, and asked him to hurry in case Mike arrived first. He said he would. He turned, just as he reached the door. “David, d’you want to stay for breakfast? Keep an eye on Tori.”

  “Oh, yes, thanks very much,” David said with alacrity.

  When I’d bolted the door and we were alone again, I said, “Thank you for coming up all those stairs just to apologize.”

  “I still care about you, Tori.” He said this staring at his knees, then his eyes met mine. “I know there’s nothing I can do about it, it’s all too late, but I’m beginning to think I rushed into the relationship with Katie. She got furious last night when I said I ought to warn you, she told me to stay out of it, it was none of our business and we shouldn’t get involved. She didn’t seem to understand I couldn’t do that. We’ve been getting on less well lately, since she had the baby. If only I’d known you were alive … I didn’t realize how I felt until we met again, and afterwards I found I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His hand moved towards mine. “You seemed to still feel the same way about me. Maybe it’s not too late –”

  Stone me. I could see hope in his eyes. I put my hands behind me and leaned back. “Stop right there, David. You might be having second thoughts, but I’m not. I’ve moved on. Anyway, your responsibility is to your child and the mother of your child.”

  David sighed. “You’re right, of course.” He stared glumly into space, the silence growing. There didn’t appear to be anything left for us to talk about. I was starving. I nibbled the edge of the oat biscuit, experimentally. It was soft and tasted wrong. I put it on the table, and drank some water, wondering if it would be rude to fetch a book to read. The faint thump of the lift doors, and a polite knock … I walked over to the door, hoping it was Sue with breakfast.

  “Who is it?”

  “Mike.”

  My heart pounded. “Go away.”

  “I want a word with Morgan.”

  I didn’t say Morgan wasn’t there in case he guessed he was above with the turbines. I retreated, looking round for a weapon. I’d got my knife … David stood up. A huge thump made us both jump. I guessed Mac was throwing his weight against the door. It was solidly-constructed, perhaps strong enough to withstand the assault. Ginger would be back soon. The heavy bangs continued.

  “Is there another way out?” David asked quietly.

  “No.”

  The banging ceased. We looked at each other. A gunshot splintered the wood on the hinge side of the door. David pulled me to the far corner of the room out of range. Another shot, two more thumps and the door crashed inwards smacking on to the floor.

  Mike stepped over it, followed by Hong and Mac.

  “Tori, hi,” Mike said, moving forward into the room, as casual as if he’d dropped by for a cup of coffee. The gun was not in evidence. “David, what are you doing here? Thank you for patching up Eddie again.”

  “How is he?” David asked, cautiously, after a pause. It’s not easy to strike the right social note with an armed man who busts down a door then strolls in behaving as if nothing has happened.

  “Well, understandably he’s not feeling marvellous, but he’s resting now and I’m sure he’ll be fine in a week or two. You must let me pay you.”

  “That’s not necessary. You know I get a retainer from Randall.”

  “Then I hope you’ll accept something as a personal favour to me. Think of it as a bonus.”

  David responded awkwardly. “No, really,” he muttered. “I couldn’t.”

  “If you’re sure. Is Morgan about the place?”

  “He went down to the Hall to get us breakfast,” I said.

  Mike considered this misinformation. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. He turned to Mac and Hong. “Check out the bedrooms.” He didn’t believe me. They clumped up the stairs. A minute or two later they came down, alone.

  “We’ll wait for his return, if you don’t mind.” He sat on the sofa, at the far end where he could see the entrance. Hong and Mac settled on stools by the workbenches. After a moment, David and I sat too. Mike looked around him. Something tiny and silvery in his ear caught the light for a split second; he was wearing acoustic earplugs, the kind that protect your ears while letting you hear what people say. I’d been issued with them when I worked in a music bar as a student. Hong’s ears were covered by his black hair, but I could see Mac had them too. My drumming heart did a quick syncopated groove.

  “One thing I admire about Randall is the quality of the people he’s recruited. You, of course,” he said to David. “I feel selfish hoping to persuade you to come south with me. But there’s only a short-term future here, I’m afraid, which makes it logical for you to leave. Then there’s Ginger. Remarkable man. Quite eccentric, but without him, the community would hardly be possible.”

  It didn’t seem to bother Mike that he was getting almost no response from me and David. He chatted on, as relaxed as he had been at Nina’s, about Strata’s organization and the people running it, while my mind ran around in circles. He intended to shoot Morgan as soon as he walked in the door, and I had no way of warning him. But if Morgan didn’t come down till he’d finished clearing the snow, he’d be at least another fifteen minutes, and surely before then Ginger would be back with Randall Pack, having looked for Mike downstairs and deduced he was here? I wasn’t sure what they could do, but my feeling was the more people up here the better. Or perhaps I could go down a floor in the lift, sneak back up the stairs, and alert Morgan …

  I waited until a pause in Mike’s monologue and got up from the sofa. “I’m tired of waiting, I’m going to get my own breakfast. Coming, David?”

  Mike slipped the Glock out of his pocket and lobbed it gently from one hand to the other, smiling. Everyone in the room tensed. Hong and Mac exchanged glances. “I’m enjoying our chat, Tori. I’d really like you to stay.”

  I stood there, irresolute, scared. It seemed to me entirely possible Mike would shoot me in the back if I walked towards the door. I didn’t want to chance it. I resumed my seat. There was perfect silence for a few seconds, then the faintest of drones, an almost imperceptible background purr, started up. Morgan had turned on one of the turbines. My heartbeat went up another notch. I went hot all over, and prayed my face hadn’t gone red. Mike smiled; not a nice smile.

  “So that’s where Morgan is. Above us in the turbine rooms.”

  “No, actually it’s Ginger. He’s clearing the snow off the blades.”

  He gave me his special
indulgent look, as if I was a child lying to cover up for a friend. “Then I think I’ll go and say hello to Ginger.”

  He got to his feet, jerked his head and Mac and Hong moved to his side. At that moment I heard the lift doors open. Moments later Randall Pack, followed by Ginger, walked into the room, hands in pockets. Randall no longer wore his shades. His eyes were calm under black brows, taking in the damage to the door, looking at all of us in turn, then dipping briefly to the Glock.

  “Mike, guns aren’t allowed in Strata. Give it to me and you can have it back when you leave.”

  He held out his hand, and Mike lifted the gun and shot him.

  Ice Diaries ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 28

  Killers

  The gunfire was unbelievably loud in that confined space. Randall Pack crashed to the floor and lay twisted on his side, not moving, blood pouring from a head wound and pooling on the floor. Ginger backed away fast and edged out of the flat. Though my ears were ringing I could hear him pelting down the stairs, while David ran to Randall and crouched beside him. I stood, frozen to the spot, unable to believe this was happening. Mike strode to the doorway. On his way out he paused and glanced down at Randall. I caught a glimpse of his expression; cool with a hint of satisfaction, pleased to have proved the gun worked. Mac and Hong followed him looking sober, as if they didn’t much like it. As soon as they had gone I pulled myself together, got my legs moving and went to peer round the edge of the splintered jamb to see which direction Mike took. He headed down the corridor towards the white door with NO ENTRY on it; he was going after Morgan. Terror gripped me as if an abyss had opened at my feet that I feared to contemplate, let alone fall into. Behind me David called my name.