by Carys Jones
Been pushed, she corrected herself. Fallen sounded too much like an accident and there was nothing accidental about what had happened to her.
‘What colour was it?’ Shane asked as he stooped down to rummage amongst some wet stones.
‘Black.’ Amanda rolled her eyes in frustration. Why hadn’t she picked a colour that would stand out, like neon pink or lime green? There had to be a hundred black stones glistening amongst the shingle. When she bought it black had felt discreet, classy even. Had she known she’d end up searching for it on a beach made of shingles she was certain that she’d have made a different choice.
‘Black, okay.’
Amanda walked along the shoreline. She bent down, ignoring the pain that shot through her, and searched the shingle, digging deep but finding only sand.
An hour passed. Shane ran over his allotted time frame without even noticing. All that they’d found were two cans of Coke, a thick piece of driftwood and several slim black rocks, which from a distance could almost pass for a USB stick.
‘It’s not here,’ Shane was doubling back towards her. Amanda looked out at the sea, currently so placid beneath a turquoise sky. She pleaded with it to release its secrets, to give back to her something so vital. ‘We really need to go. We’ve stayed here too long as it is.’
‘It has to be here.’ Amanda ran from him, further along the beach. She kept her eyes glued upon the thousands of chipped stones at her feet. The USB had to be buried amongst them somewhere. If she’d washed up on this beach, then why hadn’t her little storage device? She dropped to her knees and started to dig.
‘Amanda, stop!’
‘I’ll dig up this whole bloody beach if I have to,’ she dragged back the shingle with her hands.
‘It’s not here,’ Shane was grabbing her shoulders, trying to force her back onto her feet.
‘No, let me look,’ Amanda wailed as she shook him off. She kept digging for the USB, not caring that her damp fingers were starting to resemble pink prunes. She had to take McAllister down. If she didn’t he’d just keep on hurting innocent people. It wasn’t just about Will anymore. There were the names on the list and—
‘It’s okay.’ Shane knelt beside her and wrapped her up in his arms. She hadn’t even realised that she was crying. A choked sob broke from her lips and Amanda burrowed herself into his embrace. ‘I’m sorry it’s not here, Amanda. Truly. You looked, that’s all you can do.’
‘He can’t keep on hurting people,’ she shook, her tears soaking into Shane’s navy jumper. ‘He tried to… to kill me.’
‘I know,’ Shane squeezed her harder. ‘But he didn’t kill you, and that’s what matters to me. If I lost you…’ |He kissed her forehead and they remained locked together on their knees until clouds started to roll in overhead.
*
By the time they were back at the hotel it was raining. Wet streaks swept across the glass of the window, the sky now a sombre shade of grey.
‘It could have waited,’ Shane tossed a small white box over to her and shook the rain drops out of his hair. Amanda smiled appreciatively at him.
‘You know me and technology,’ she eagerly began to open the sleek box. ‘Besides, I need to call home and check in on my Mum and Ewan. Thanks for going out to get this for me while I napped.’
‘No problem.’ Shane peeled off his damp jumper and Amanda felt her attention drift away from her shiny new phone. She stole a glimpse of his smooth chest, his taut muscles as he rummaged in a drawer for a dry top. As he tugged it on she quickly looked back at her device.
‘You got me the newest model,’ she noted with approval.
‘I figured you’d only moan if I didn’t.’
Amanda emptied the box of all its contents. It felt good to have a phone again. She’d have to update everything with a new number and passwords, but she didn’t care. It was better than attempting to remotely connect to her old phone which was still somewhere at McAllister’s mansion, bundled up in the overnight bag stuffed with energy bars and flashlights. Had McAllister’s guards gone through it? Were her belongings now in a shallow grave somewhere within the mansion’s grounds?
My things are evidence. Evidence that he tried to kill me.
Amanda instantly dismissed the naïve thought. A man like McAllister was too smart to keep any evidence lurking around his home. There would be no trace that Amanda was even there; like the girls upon his terrible list, she’d just cease to exist.
‘What if your mother asks about the new number?’ Shane raised his eyebrows at Amanda as he smoothed out the creases in his clean jumper.
‘She won’t. And when I’m back I’ll just update her phone myself before she can realise it’s changed. My Mum will always just answer.’
‘Fair enough.’
With her new phone activated, Amanda typed in the number for the little cottage. One ring became two. Three. On the fourth her mother picked up. She sounded out of breath.
‘Mum, are you okay?’ Amanda gripped the phone with both hands, wishing there was some way she could teleport through it and be back home in the next breath.
‘Oh, that boy,’ Corrine chuckled. ‘He’s had me running round this house like a blue-arsed fly. Hide-and-seek,’ more chuckling. ‘With a time penalty system! Can you believe it! After ten minutes, each passing minute equals minus one point. Amanda, I’m on minus sixteen! He’s a little Houdini that one. Do you know where I found him last time?’
‘No, where?’ Amanda relaxed her hold on the phone and leaned back against the pillows on her bed. It was blissful to lose herself in the innocent fun of what was going on at her mother’s cottage. It was a world Amanda was keen to return to. Was keen to preserve.
‘The laundry basket,’ Corrine chortled with delight. ‘Wedged in amongst all my towels! Can you believe it? I won’t even tell you how long it took me to crack that one.’
‘It sounds like you two are having fun.’
‘Yes, we are,’ Corrine enthused. ‘And… are you?’ her mother’s voice changed from joyful to detective in a heartbeat. ‘How are you and Shane finding Vegas? Have you been to many shows? Have you gambled?’
‘Two shows,’ Amanda turned and reached for her laptop. She tapped on the mouse pad and read from the screen. ‘Cirque du Soleil was just amazing. We loved that one. And we even went to see Britney Spears, to be, you know, nostalgic.’
Across the room Shane crinkled his nose up in disgust. Amanda pressed a hand to her chest to suppress her laughter. It bubbled around in her sore lungs, replacing mirth with pain. Wincing, Amanda dropped back against her pillows.
‘What else do you have planned?’ Corrine wondered eagerly. ‘Maybe a visit to a little white chapel perhaps’
‘Mother!’ That seemed a distasteful suggestion even by Corrine’s standards.
‘I meant to sightsee,’ her mum quickly clarified. ‘They’re a tourist attraction, you know, along with being a wedding venue. And no one would judge you, Amanda,’ Corrine’s tone became haughty, ‘You’ve been through such a lot lately. And to lose Will and have to take in a son who you’d never known about, no one would judge you for seeking solace with another man. Someone familiar, someone who you know.’
‘Christ, Mum,’ Amanda could feel her cheeks burning.
Shane glanced over with interest and mouthed, ‘Are you okay?’
Nodding, Amanda forced a smile, knowing it was time to end the call. ‘We’re just about to head out for an all you can eat brunch.’
‘Brunch?’ Corrine echoed shrilly.
‘Brunch, you know, it’s later than breakfast but earlier than lunch. So kind of the two combined – brunch. It’s still early here.’ Amanda hoped she was still successfully managing to keep up the time difference charade.
‘Sounds like an American thing.’
‘It is.’
‘Okay, well,’ Corrine sounded reluctant to leave, but then she bellowed something away from the phone, ‘I said the time penalties didn’t apply when I got a p
hone call! Ewan, we’ll have to start again!’
‘Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. Hug Ewan for me. I’ll call again soon, Mum. Bye. Love you.’ Amanda disconnected before Corrine had chance to say anything else.
‘Are things okay back home?’ Shane wondered cautiously.
‘Yeah, they’re okay. You know my mum, inappropriate as usual.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Nothing,’ Amanda waved a dismissive hand through the air. ‘Shall we eat? Talking about brunch has made me hungry.’
‘Sure,’ Shane tossed her the room service menu. He watched Amanda as she studied it. ‘You know, we could just go back, get involved in all the fun going on back home ourselves.’
Amanda kept reading the menu and pursed her lips as she shook her head. ‘We can’t go back yet.’
‘The USB stick is gone. It’s over, Amanda. And you’re a lot stronger than you were. We should think about—’
‘I’m not going anywhere until McAllister has paid for all that he’s done.’
‘But, Amanda—’
‘I haven’t worked out how I’m going to do it yet, but I will. I owe it to Will. I owe it to the names on that list.’
‘Amanda—’
‘And I owe it to myself,’ she concluded sharply. ‘Can you tell me, truthfully, that after what he did, you’d just be happy to go back home and pretend it never happened?’
Shane’s face hardened. ‘No,’ he said after a long pause. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Then it’s settled,’ Amanda handed him the menu with a fake smile, ‘we stay here until we bring the bastard down. And tonight I’ll have the cheeseburger with salad, not fries. Thanks.’
20
‘Daddy,’ Amanda pulled her blanket up to her chin, her voice a frightened whisper, ‘there’s a monster outside, I can hear it.’
‘A monster?’ her dad slowly lowered himself down and sat on the edge of her bed. The little night light in the corner of the room did its best to try and banish away the shadows which clotted together like molasses.
‘Can’t you hear it?’
Something rattled along the side of the wall. Like bones shaking in a bag or long fingers feeling their way along the house. Amanda shrieked and pulled her blanket higher.
‘There,’ she cowered towards her father. ‘It’s outside and it keeps growling and scratching at the walls, like it wants to come inside.’
‘Oh, Amanda,’ her dad’s hands were warm as he smoothed down her hair and gave her a gentle smile. ‘That’s not a monster, sweetheart. That’s just the wind.’
‘How do you know?’ She didn’t dare release her tight grip on her blanket. Had her father been outside? Had he challenged the darkness and its depths?
‘Because there are no monsters.’
Amanda shook her head, refusing to believe him. What next – would he tell her there was no ocean or sky? The monster was outside, she could hear it desperately trying to get in. It roared around the walls of her small room, confirming its presence.
‘Daddy, you’ve made it angry,’ she dove beneath her blanket, burrowing deep.
‘Amanda,’ her dad peeled back the blanket, re-exposing her. ‘There are no monsters. What you can hear, it’s just the wind whistling around the house. It will die down soon.’
‘There are no monsters?’ Amanda sleepily settled against her pillows. If her father said it then it had to be true.
‘No, there aren’t.’ He tucked her blanket in around her and kissed her forehead.
‘But if there were?’ Amanda wondered as her dad retreated from her bed. He was almost at the door beneath which the welcoming yellow light of the landing crept into the room. His fingers grazed the handle as he turned back to her.
‘There are no monsters, Amanda. I promise. Try and get some sleep.’
‘But if there was a monster outside,’ she pressed, determined to get an answer. ‘And it was really trying to get in the house. How would you stop it?’
Her father dusted his hands through his hair and drew his eyebrows together. He glanced down at the golden light of the landing which pooled around his feet and then yawned.
‘Well?’ Amanda peered at him, her eyes bright with curiosity.
‘If there was a monster outside,’ he conceded with a sigh, ‘which there isn’t. But let’s pretend there was, for a moment, and it was trying to get in the house.’
‘Yes,’ Amanda was nodding along with him, ‘what would you do?’
He thought for just a second. ‘I’d have to kill it,’ he responded simply. ‘Because I’d do anything to keep you and your mother safe, you know that.’ He doubled back across the room and gave Amanda another kiss on the forehead. ‘Now try and get some sleep and remember that monsters aren’t real, okay?’
‘Okay.’
This time when he made for the door Amanda didn’t call him back.
*
Amanda reluctantly opened her eyes. She’d wanted to stay in her dream, close to the memory of her father. Close to a place where monsters weren’t real and she’d known complete safety.
‘Hey,’ Shane was already up. He was at the end of the bed buttoning up a shirt, his hair damp and flat against his head. ‘Did you sleep okay?’
‘I know what I need to do.’ Amanda sat up. When she slept she was able to forget about her battered body, about her navy bruises. But when she awoke all the fires within her body started up again. Groaning, she slumped against her pillows.
‘What do you need to do?’ Shane was still preoccupied with his shirt.
‘I need to kill him.’
‘What?’ he abandoned the final button and stared at her, mouth agape.
‘McAllister, I need to kill him.’
‘Christ, Amanda. First you just wanted to put the bastard in jail and now you want to kill him? We’re leaving, today. I’m not going to sit around here and watch you lose your mind.’
‘I’m not losing my mind,’ Amanda declared stridently. She scrambled out of bed, wanting to present herself as strong, self-possessed, not a weakling still resigned to convalescence. ‘In fact I think I’m finally seeing things clearly.’
‘Pack your stuff; we’re leaving, right now.’ Shane clicked his fingers at her as if he were ordering a disobedient dog.
‘He’s a monster, Shane.’
‘I don’t care if the guy’s fucking Dracula himself, you’re not putting yourself in danger again. This is too much, Amanda.’
‘If he lives, more people suffer.’
‘Their blood isn’t on your hands.’ Shane was unzipping her bag and throwing open drawers. ‘Besides, the second you take him out, some other lowlife asshole will rise up to take his place.’
‘If he lives, I don’t get to go home.’ Amanda walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm to urge him to cease his manic packing. ‘And I want to go home, Shane. I want to resume my regular life, I don’t want to have to drift into hiding like Will did.’
‘You don’t know that he’ll still be looking for you.’
‘You don’t know that he won’t.’
‘Amanda—’
‘Years,’ she stated bluntly. ‘McAllister hunted Will for years, even though he’d faked his own death, left his wife and son. It still wasn’t enough. To a man like McAllister nothing will ever be enough, he deals only in absolutes.’
‘This is madness.’ Shane ceased packing.
‘It’s my only shot at getting my life back. At keeping Ewan safe. On saving the names on that list.’
‘You’re talking about committing murder.’ The veins in Shane’s neck throbbed. He’d built his entire career on locking up people who did exactly that. Murderers, killers. He helped bring them all to justice.
‘I’m talking about killing a monster,’ Amanda raised her chin and held his gaze, ‘and you remember reading fairy tales as a kid? The only way we are going to get our happy ever after is if we kill him.’
*
‘I don’t like this.’ S
hane was several verses into his complaint. He’d been reciting it since they left the hotel.
‘What’s to like?’ Amanda muttered as she sat in the corner of the café, bent over her laptop. Her black eyes were concealed behind aviator sunglasses. The long sleeves of her hooded jumper and joggers hid the rest of her wounds. Her blonde hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a loose bun.
She’d dared to peer inside the windows of the white van parked outside the hotel but there was no one sat behind the wheel. Her heart was a jackhammer in her chest as she hurried past it and continued down the street.
‘Are you sure it can’t be traced?’
‘Certain.’ Amanda was focused on her computer, but Shane kept sending furtive glances around the café.
‘But what if someone sees?’
‘No one will see.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know.’
Amanda’s fingertips pounded her keyboard. She knew what she was looking for and exactly where to find it. Once again she was trawling the murky depths of the darknet. She’d found an online store that specialised in guns and promised untraceable transactions.
‘What about the payment?’ Shane lifted his coffee to his lips, there was a slight tremor which ran through his hands. ‘They’ll be able to trace that.’
‘No, they won’t.’
‘They will.’
‘No, Shane, they won’t,’ she raised her head to frown at him. ‘I’m paying in bitcoin.’
‘In bits of coin?’
‘No, bitcoin,’ Amanda stiffly corrected him, taking care to keep her voice low. ‘It’s a digital currency used online. Completely untraceable.’
‘A digital currency?’
‘I invested in a couple of hundred a few years ago when bitcoins were first launched. They’ve more than doubled in value since then.’
‘Really?’
‘One day there will be just one global currency and it will probably be bitcoin, or another incarnation of something very similar.’ Amanda enjoyed prophesising about the future when it came to technology.
