by J. D. Weston
Then slowly but surely, the shape of a man stepped from the shadows. He stopped on the edge of darkness like death himself.
"You should have died a long time ago, Stone."
Harvey didn't reply.
"So much death. Think of all the pain and suffering you've caused."
Harvey didn't reply.
"How many, do you think?" asked the shadow. "Fifty? A hundred? More?"
Harvey didn't reply.
"Tell us about them, Stone."
"About what exactly?" replied Harvey.
"Which one was your favourite?"
Harvey didn't reply.
"Stuck for words, eh?" said the man.
"My favourite?" said Harvey, through gritted teeth. He stood on tiptoes, striving to keep his airway open. "It was a scene just like this."
"Do go on," said the man in the trees.
"But it was you with a noose around your neck, and not me."
"You must be mistaken," came the reply. "I don't recall ever being in such a position.”
"You've had a noose around your neck ever since I saved your sorry ass."
The shadow didn't reply.
He stepped from the trees into the light of the fire.
"Jackson?" said Reg in surprise. "But, you-"
"Quiet, Tenant," said Jackson, without turning. "If you hadn't worked it out already, you're in the wrong job."
He stepped up to Harvey.
"But you worked it out just fine, didn't you?" he said.
"It wasn't hard," said Harvey.
"So tell me. Entertain us all with your insight."
"You had the access."
"I did," agreed Jackson.
"You had the means."
Jackson nodded.
"And, out of everyone out there, you wanted me dead more than anybody."
"Very good," said Jackson. "And for what reason?"
Harvey's feet were tiring. He was struggling to keep the chain loose enough to breathe.
"I'm a risk to you," Harvey began. "I saw you kill. If anyone can bring you down, it's me."
"You would have made a good operative, Stone," said Jackson. "You think like a villain."
Harvey didn't reply.
"You are a villain, Stone."
"So it was you all along?" said Reg. "It was you that killed-"
"Like I said, Tenant, if you can't keep up with the conversation, best you keep quiet, eh?"
"You bastard, sir," spat Reg.
Jackson's eyes didn't leave Harvey's face.
"You win some, you lose some, right Stone?" said Jackson. "Isn't that what you told somebody a long time ago?"
"Moments before you tortured him?" said Harvey. "Yeah, it was something like that."
"I'd love to stay and chat, but you know I have a busy morning ahead. It'll be light soon. Besides, we don't want your bath to get cold, do we?"
"Jackson?" rasped Harvey.
Jackson turned back to face Harvey.
"Any last words, Stone?"
"Come closer."
Harvey fought for breath, and stumbled onto the coals, causing a flash of angry sparks to jump from the fire.
Jackson waited for Harvey to stop swinging and steady himself, and then stepped forward.
"Any regrets, Stone?" he asked.
Harvey smiled.
"How did you know where we'd be?" asked Harvey.
"Oh come on, Stone," he replied. "I've been listening to Tenant's calls now for more than a year." He laughed to himself. "You should hear some of the things your girlfriend has to say about you, Harvey. They're like two old women."
"That was you in Athens too, wasn't it?" asked Harvey. "It was you behind it all."
"You've been a marked man for years, Stone. Don't be offended."
Harvey was struggling with the intense heat. His neck was swelling in the grip of the steel chain.
"I'm not offended," said Harvey. "But I do like to have a good reason when I kill a man. It pleases my moral compass, Jackson."
"What do you mean?" said Jackson, his head cocked and intrigued.
"I have to give it to you, Jackson," said Harvey, "this is a fantastic set up you have here, even by my standards."
"What are you talking about, Stone?"
"But for all your planning and eavesdropping, you forgot one important point."
Harvey smiled.
"I told you before that your last word will always be the one that kills you."
Harvey gave a short sharp whistle.
Jackson's eyes widened with fear.
"Boon?"
A sudden look of doubt and fear wiped the smug look from his face, just before Boon leapt from his full speed run, launched himself up and sunk his teeth into Jackson's neck.
23
Fly Beast Fly
Melody woke with the rhythmic beat of her heart loud in her ears, and the stinging of burnt and scratched skin to remind her she was alive. She opened her eyes from the darkness that had welcomed her with its inviting warmth to see the black sky and shadows of the trees overhead.
Men were talking nearby. They weren't shouting. The conversation wasn't heated, but hatred ran thick in the tones of their voices.
A familiar friend rested his head on Melody's chest. His ears pricked up when Melody began to raise her head, and his tail thumped the ground when she smiled at him.
Was it a dream?
She searched her surroundings.
Reg was still chained to the tree. But he smiled at her in the dim light with genuine relief.
Her vision blurred with every movement of her head, but the two other men were still there too. George and his boss, the angry man. She tried to wipe her hair from her eyes, but her hands had been bound once more behind her back.
Melody tried hard to remember what had happened. She was being pulled. Her neck still stung. She'd fought for breath, and she'd felt death beside her.
But now? Was this real?
"It's time, Jackson."
It was Harvey's voice.
"Harvey?" said Melody. "It's time to stop this." She winced at the pain in her temple when she spoke.
Harvey didn't reply.
"Let me down, Stone."
That's Jackson, she thought
"Jackson," said Melody. Though her eyes failed to focus, she stared blindly in the direction of his voice. "Jackson help us."
"Please, Stone," said Jackson. "You don't understand. Melody tell him. Tell him to stop."
Slowly the scene began to focus, and Melody rolled to her side to take it all in.
Jackson now hung above the old copper bathtub. A great loop of the chain had been fastened around his chest and under his arms. His head fell forward and his bound feet tried in vain to avoid the heat and steam that grew angrily from below.
"I understand, Jackson," said Harvey. "If anybody understands, it's me."
Harvey stepped into view.
"Harvey?" said Melody. "Is that you? It's time to stop now. No more. Please."
Harvey bent and smoothed the hair on her forehead then planted a light kiss on her smooth skin.
"This is my last," said Harvey. He then smiled weakly and stood.
Melody watched with fear and astonishment as the man she loved began to circle Jackson like a wolf might circle a deer.
"Tell me about the murders, Jackson," said Harvey. "Tell me how it made you feel."
Jackson didn't reply.
"I don't have time to play games, Jackson. How did it feel to burn the limbs off someone?"
No reply. Instead, Jackson just struggled against the chain.
"How will your wife feel when she finds out who the killer was?"
"No," said Jackson. "She can never know."
"Detective Chief Inspector Harris," said Harvey, "would you agree that you've found the man you're looking for?"
There was short silence, and then a weak voice from the far side of the small C-shaped clearing spoke. "That's fair to say," he said. "But I don't think it matte
rs anymore, does it?"
"Oh it matters, Harris," said Harvey. "Jackson, tell Harris about how you glued Noah Finn to the bathtub."
"No," said Jackson. His voice suddenly broke. "I'll deny it all."
"You probably won't get a chance, Jackson. But if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that people always feel better after a confession."
Harvey began to pace again in a wide circle. He stopped with his back to the fire and looked out over what was once the grounds where he and his sister had played when they were young.
"I've encouraged many confessions, Jackson. It's what I do best. I enjoy retribution. I can't help it. I'm not sick or twisted, and I'm certainly not the psychopath you say I am."
He turned again to face Jackson.
"I just enjoy seeing people get what they deserve."
He nodded into the darkness among the trees, and the chain links slowly began to pay out. Jackson began to lower.
"No, stop. Harvey, no."
"Don't fight it, Jackson. All you have to do is tell us."
"Harvey stop, you sick bastard."
Jackson's toes dipped briefly into the scalding hot water. He fought to keep his tired legs bent and away from the heat.
"Are you ready to talk, Jackson?"
Harvey's face was emotionless.
Jackson's face was a picture of perfect misery.
He began to sob.
"Tears won't help you, Jackson," said Harvey. "You've been a very bad man. The only thing that might help you now is a confession."
"I can't. It was a blur," sobbed Jackson. "I wasn't thinking straight."
"What was a blur? Was it cutting Noah Finn's nuts off and stuffing them in his mouth? Or was it slicing his stomach open and letting his guts fall into his lap in front of his waking eyes?"
Harvey paced once more.
"Which was it? Perhaps it was the pinning somebody down with stakes through their wrists and ankles, and letting them drown in their own blood? Maybe that was the blur? What do you think?"
Harvey nodded into the trees again, and slowly, a few more links of chain rolled across the thick branch above.
Jackson's feet sank into the scalding water.
He began to holler and growl, deep, carnal and angry. More chain was released and Jackson's feet hit the sides of the red-hot copper tub. His ankles began to blister as they succumbed to the vicious hiss and sting of the boiling water. The growl became a shrill scream.
"Ready to tell us about it, Jackson?" said Harvey. "The longer you take, the harder it'll be. But confess, and I'll make it as quick as possible."
"No Harvey," said Melody. "Stop. He's had enough. Let the law deal with him."
She tried to stand, but could only manage to get to her knees.
"You're innocent, Harvey. Stop and all this will be over."
Harvey offered her a smile.
"Last chance, Jackson," he said.
Jackson continued to sob and mumble apologies aimed at nobody.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was the only way."
"Then it's over," said Harvey. "Goodbye, Jackson."
Harvey turned to the trees.
"Shaun?" he called.
Shaun Tyson appeared at the edge of the darkness.
"Are you ready for your new beginning?" asked Harvey.
Shaun nodded.
"Are you ready to leave the weak and perverted mind of the old Shaun Tyson behind?"
Shaun nodded once more.
"Say it, Shaun," said Harvey. "Tell me you’re a new man. Show me how strong you are."
"I'm strong," said Shaun, a little weaker than he'd hoped.
"Louder, Shaun."
"I'm strong."
"Louder. I want you to feel it when you say it."
"I'm strong," yelled Shaun. "I'm strong."
"Are you weak?" asked Harvey.
"No," said Shaun.
"I can't hear you, Shaun."
"No," shouted Shaun.
"Are you perverted?"
"No." Shaun's face had reddened from the shouting and his windpipe stuck from his neck.
"Are you a new man, Shaun?"
"Yes."
"Then show me," said Harvey.
Without hesitation, Shaun cast the end of the chain away. It ran freely over the thick branch above, and Jackson landed with a splash into the searing water. His scream seemed to pierce the very darkness around them. His thrashes sent the boiling water onto the hot coals, which sent up clouds of steam that partially hid the horrific death.
The chain fell down on top of Jackson. He thrashed from left to right, unable to stop the pain from biting every nerve in his body. He flung his bound hands out over the edge to pull himself out, but the scorching copper seared his skin, melting it, so he simply slid back inside from the inescapable agony.
His visceral screams were lost to the trees and the dark night.
Melody turned away and held Boon with her bound hands, who grew excited at the commotion.
"Harvey, get him out," she said. "Enough is enough."
Harvey didn't reply.
He stepped over to Melody, and once more, bent down beside her.
"What have you done, Harvey?" she whispered, in disbelief at what she'd seen.
"I finished it," replied Harvey. "Once and for all."
"But you were innocent," she said. "You could have walked."
The thrashing and splashing stopped with abrupt silence. There was just the sound of hissing coals and the searing hot water settling.
"I'm still innocent, Melody. Only not in your eyes. I was always guilty in your eyes, wasn't I?"
"No, Harvey. You changed, you-"
"I've always been me, Melody." He spoke softly. The time for violence and rage had passed, perhaps for good.
"I'm sorry," said Melody. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm-"
"Don't apologise, Melody. We had a good time, didn't we?"
He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair for the last time.
"No, Harvey, don't go. It doesn't have to end like this," she whispered, pleading.
Harvey stood and stepped away.
"Harvey, stop," she shouted.
Harvey didn't reply.
"Harvey, come back."
Harvey didn't reply.
"Harvey, stop," Melody shouted, then took a breath. "It doesn't have to end this way," she said softly to the empty night.
She paused.
"Harvey."
Harvey didn't reply.
Finding a hostel so late at night had been difficult. Shaun had to beg to be let inside, and then had paid double for the little room, which wasn't much to look at, but to Shaun, it was everything he'd dreamed of. Outside his little window, the rain fell hard, bouncing off the surface of the road and the parked cars. Headlights illuminated each drop as if they sparkled.
Shaun thought of his mum.
She'd be sat in her kitchen at the little table they'd eaten so many breakfasts and dinners at before. She'd probably be smoking and cradling a cup of tea in her hands as she often did.
He wondered if she'd be crying. It was a question he'd asked himself when he'd been tied up in the back of the van, and when Harvey Stone had caught him in the forest. But this time, his mind was clear. His thoughts ran wild, with the freedom and innocence of a child.
She'd be okay. She'd be happy for him. He made a mental note to call her, just to hear her voice.
A group of people walked by his window, and he moved back away from the glass, but then stopped. He was allowed to look out of the window.
He was free now. Free to as he pleased. Free to live his life.
Thanks to Harvey Stone.
Of all the men in all the world that might offer Shaun a second chance, Harvey Stone had been at the bottom of the list.
But the man had done something to Shaun. He'd awakened something inside him, something that he'd never had before, but had seen in other men.
A confidence.
Shaun emptied
his rucksack onto his bed and separated his belongings. He folded his clothes neatly, and placed his wallet, passport and money carefully together. Then, while his freedom ran amok inside his new-born mind, he changed into his smart set of clothes. He ran some water into his hands and smoothed his hair then pulled his coat on. He pocketed his multi-tool, wallet and loose items. Then Shaun walked out into the hallway, locking the door to his room behind him.
The rain was hammering down, but he stepped onto the pavement of Amsterdam anyway, and let the water splash onto his face.
He smiled at how fresh it felt, the rain, the cold air, and freedom.
A man and a woman stood beneath the canopy of a closed restaurant a few doors away. They argued in another language, French maybe or Italian; Shaun didn't know.
He ignored them and focused on his own joy.
How powerful he'd felt when he'd cast the chain away and let that man fall to his death. How in control he felt of his own destiny.
A loud slap caught Shaun's attention. He turned to see the man recoil from the blow the woman had delivered, in time to see him retaliate with a blow of his own.
Shaun stepped back into the doorway and out of sight.
The woman gave a cry, and even the loud rain couldn't hide the dull thuds of punches and kicks. Shaun had heard them on many occasions in prison. It was a noise he'd never forget. It wasn't like the sound of a punch in a movie; the sound of a real punch was unlike any other noise.
"Are you strong?" asked Harvey, a voice inside Shaun's head.
Shaun closed his eyes.
"Are you strong?" he asked again.
"Yes," Shaun whispered.
"Louder, Shaun," said Harvey. "Are you strong?"
"Yes."
"Are you in control?"
"Yes."
Shaun stepped from the doorway.
"Are you a new man?"
"Yes."
"Louder."
"Yes," shouted Shaun.
He began to walk towards the couple. The woman was on the wet ground, trying to scramble away from the man. Her dress had pulled up from the struggle, and she was screaming.
"Are you a new man?"
"Yes," shouted Shaun.
The man bent over with his hand on the woman's throat.
