Decimation: The Girl Who Survived

by Burke, Richard T.

  That left one last thing to do. She once again grabbed hold of the desk phone and spoke into the handset. This time, there were three repetitions of the ring tone before somebody answered.

  “Hello, Grolby here.”

  “Anders, I’ve got another little job for you. I need you to get a man to follow my son, Jason.”

  “Your son, Mrs Baxter? Why do you want him followed? Are you worried about somebody attempting a kidnapping?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that Anders. I just had a call from the police saying that Jason met Floyd last Saturday.”

  “Floyd? I don’t understand. Why would your son meet with him?”

  “I don’t understand either, which is why I want you to put a man on following him. He’s at school at the moment. I don’t want Jason to know he’s being followed, though.”

  “Okay, I’ll get right on it. I’ll let you know if my man sees anything unusual.”

  “Thanks, Anders.”

  Chapter 47

  Thursday 13th January 2033

  Jason leant against the stone gatepost outside the imposing school gates deep in thought. All his friends had left for the day, and he had delayed his own departure with meaningless tasks that could have waited until the following day. He retrieved the phone from his pocket and read the message again. Just three words:

  ‘Call me. Mum.’

  Had she found out that he had tried to contact Antimone? Did the brusque request indicate she was angry about something? There was only one way to find out and that was by calling her. His heart hammered in his chest as he spoke her name into the handset. He felt out of breath, inhaling in gulps as though he had been running hard.

  A ring tone. Another. A click, then his mother’s voice. “Jason?”

  “Yes, Mum. You said to call you.”

  A pause at the other end. The cold, quiet voice. “The police called me this afternoon.”

  Jason’s heart rate increased. “The police?”

  “Yes, the police. They wanted to know why you went to see Daniel Floyd.”

  A roaring sound in his ears. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  “I take it by your silence that you know what I’m talking about. I’d like to know as well.”

  “I … uh–”

  “I said I want to know what you were doing meeting Daniel Floyd,” she screamed.

  Jason held the phone away from his ear. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.

  “Well, I want you in my office at five thirty to explain it. Is that clear? There’s a policewoman coming to talk to you at six. If they somehow manage to get hold of you before then, you say precisely nothing until one of my lawyers is present. Got it? After everything I’ve done for you, this is the reward I get?”

  “Okay. I’ll be at your office by five-thirty,” Jason said. He hesitated then spoke again, “I’m sorry, Mum,” but the line was already dead.

  He returned the mobile to his pocket and blew out his cheeks. Somehow the police knew he had met Floyd. Did they know he had warned him about the raid? Did that mean they had captured Floyd? But if that was the case, what had Floyd told them? Jason cast his mind back. He had informed the man that somebody else was responsible for making Antimone pregnant. It wouldn’t take a huge leap of logic to deduce the true identity of the child’s father.

  At least he had time to rendezvous with the nurse and get the message from Antimone before he had to meet his mother.

  Chapter 48

  Thursday 13th January 2033

  Jason glanced at his watch. Five past five. The nurse had said she would be there at five, but no red cars had passed by in the last few minutes. He had even used the Internet to look up details of the type of car she drove to make sure he would recognise it. He couldn’t afford to wait too much longer or he would be late for the meeting with his mother. The icy wind gnawed at the exposed skin of his face and pawed at his hair. He shuffled anxiously from one foot to the other.

  A small red vehicle turned off the main road and merged into the steady stream of traffic heading to his mother’s company. As the car drew closer, he identified the model as the one he was waiting for. It slowed as it came alongside, and the window lowered. With a sigh of relief, he recognised Rose’s anxious face. The driver behind tooted his horn.

  “I’ll see you in D1,” she called, then accelerated to close the gap to the car in front.

  For a moment Jason didn’t understand what she meant. Was she referring to a section of the hospital? After a moment’s thought, it came to him. She was talking about the car park of course. Cursing his stupidity, he studied the direction sign and jogged towards the area she had identified. A couple of minutes later, he spotted the entrance to car park D. Four blue signs with white text towered above the rows of parked cars, labelled from D1 to D4. D1 was at the near end, and his eyes ran down the lines, looking for the red car. The blip of an alarm being armed drew his attention. He caught sight of Rose as she strode along the footpath to the building entrance. Jason hurried to catch up with her.

  “Did you give her the message?” he asked.

  She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes, I gave it to her as agreed.”

  “Was there a reply?”

  The nurse swivelled her head, inspecting the surrounding area for anybody showing an undue interest. Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. She delved a hand into her coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of white paper. Jason recognised the shape of a napkin, like the one he had written on the previous night.

  “Before I give you this,” Rose said, “you have to promise me that you’re not going to involve me anymore. This is it. You’re on your own from now on. I’ve got to think about myself too. If they catch me, I’ll be without a job, and I won’t be able to get a reference.”

  Jason nodded. “Okay. Can I see the note please?”

  Rose handed the napkin over. Jason unfolded it and read Antimone’s message scrawled beneath his own.

  He took a sharp intake of breath. “You have to get us out of here?” His eyes locked onto the nurse’s. “How is she? Is she alright?”

  Rose grimaced. “She’s in a bit of pain at the moment. She’s recovering from some tests.” She resumed her progress towards the entrance. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  Jason placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Rose whirled around angrily. “This is exactly what I knew would happen. I should have just thrown the damn thing away. Now you need to leave me alone.”

  Jason raised his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, but how am I going to get her out of there without help?”

  “That’s your problem. I suggest you start by talking to your mother. She’s the one who’s in charge.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to change her mind,” Jason mumbled.

  Rose turned away. “I can’t help you anymore. Sorry.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Jason called to her departing back. He watched as she pushed through the rotating doors and entered the glass and steel building beneath the logo of a newborn child. He pulled back his sleeve and glanced at his watch. Five thirteen. Just over fifteen minutes until the scheduled meeting with his mother and three-quarters of an hour before he had to explain himself to the police.

  He took a step towards the entrance then halted. He turned a full circle, deep in thought. “What the hell am I going to do?” he muttered to himself. His hand slipped into his pocket and emerged holding the phone. Almost subconsciously he unlocked the screen and scrolled through the list of contacts until he reached the names beginning with F.

  For a long time, he stared at the display. Once, then twice, his finger moved to the connect button and hesitated.

  “Ah, damn it,” he said as he finally placed the call.

  Chapter 49

  Thursday 13th January 2033

  Jason stared down at the wooden surface of the table. On the opposite side sat his mother, a glower on her face. They occupied one of the meeting rooms on
the executive floor of Ilithyia Biotechnology. The lawyers waited next door.

  “What the hell were you thinking about?” Rosalind spat. “I want to hear it all. Why you visited Floyd, how you knew where to go, what happened when you got there.”

  “Well, I woke up that morning, the Saturday, and you’d already left for work. I was just sorting out my breakfast when my mobile rang. I didn’t recognise the caller, but I answered anyway. It was Floyd.”

  “How did he get your number?”

  “I’m not sure. He never told me.”

  “Go on then.”

  “Okay, so he starts by asking if I know who it is. I say no, and then he tells me, you know, that it’s him. Floyd. I’m about to hang up when he says he has some information I might be interested in, but it’s going to cost me.”

  “What information?”

  “He wasn’t specific, but he said it was about Antimone.”

  “Antimone? What could he possibly know about her?”

  “Well, he wouldn’t say on the phone. He said if I wanted to hear what he had to say, I had to bring him supplies. Food and stuff.”

  “Why couldn’t he just get it himself?”

  “He was in hiding,” Jason said. “He didn’t want to go out in case somebody recognised him.”

  “So what happened next?”

  “He tells me where to go, the old sorting office in Bedford. He says to go inside and he’ll find me. He warns me not to tell the police, or he’ll break into the house and hurt us.”

  “Hurt us?” Rosalind snorted. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “He mentioned arson or something like that. Anyway, I didn’t call the police. I caught a train to Bedford and bought the stuff he asked for.”

  “Right. And then what?”

  “I found the building. It’s surrounded by a fence so I had to climb over it. I managed to get one of the doors open. There was no sign of Floyd on the ground floor, so I went up to the first floor. I go into one of the offices, and he jumps out, holds a knife to my throat. He makes me sit down while he goes through the supplies. When he’s checked them, he says he’s ready to give me the information.”

  “Go on then, spit it out,” Rosalind said. “What’s so amazing that it’s worth risking your life for?”

  “He says he knows that Antimone is alive.”

  “What?” Rosalind leant forwards sharply. “How the hell did he know that?”

  “He refused to say. All he would say was that she survived the birth.”

  “Did he know where she was being held?”

  “Like I said, if he did know, he didn’t tell me,” Jason said.

  “So it’s just pure coincidence that you saw her later that night when that stupid moron brought you down to the basement?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t believe him. I thought he was winding me up.”

  “What happened next?”

  “The police arrived. I thought he was going to kill me, but I managed to convince him that I hadn’t called them. Anyway, he led me out, and we escaped just before they searched the building.”

  “And then you caught the train back home?”

  “Yeah, from Bedford back to London Saint Pancras, on the underground to Liverpool Street and from there up to Northstowe.”

  “And have you heard from him since?”

  “No,” Jason replied.

  “Have you got your phone on you?”

  “Um, yes.” Jason withdrew it from his pocket.

  “Unlock it and give it to me.” Rosalind stuck out a hand.

  Jason held the camera up to his eye then handed over the pebble-shaped block. His mother reached across the table to grab it. Her fingers danced in front of the screen. Her brow furrowed in concentration.

  Finally, she looked up. “There’s no record of an incoming call on that Sunday.”

  The accusation lay heavy in the air between them.

  “He told me to delete the call record. He watched while I did it.”

  “Okay, that’s convenient.” Rosalind shook her head. “We aren’t finished discussing this yet, but we need to get the story straight for the police. You tell them everything you’ve just told me, but emphasise that you didn’t believe what Floyd said about Antimone being alive. I’m going to keep the phone. If they ask for it, just say you haven’t got it. It’s at home or something.”

  “But it’s got all my contacts on it,” Jason protested.

  “That’s the least of your worries right now. In any case, you won’t be needing your contacts if you end up in jail. I’m going to have a chat with the lawyers now. Don’t answer any questions unless they indicate that you can. I’ll get one of them to nod if it’s okay. When you answer, just state the bare minimum. Don’t elaborate. If you’re unsure about something, it’s fine to say you don’t know. Got that?”

  Jason nodded in acquiescence and watched his mother stride across the room, leaving him sitting by himself.

  “What the hell have I started?” he muttered.

  Chapter 50

  Thursday 13th January 2033

  Rosalind Baxter stared out at the deepening twilight gloom and scratched an earlobe.

  “So he’s been talking to that damned nurse again?” she asked, turning to face Anders Grolby.

  “That’s what my man says, and I think the evidence is pretty conclusive.” He waved a hand at the snapshots arrayed across Rosalind’s desk.

  “What’s that in this shot?” She pointed to a photograph showing Rose handing a white object to Jason.

  “It looks like she’s passing over a note,” Grolby said, shrugging.

  “I don’t suppose we can tell what’s written on it, can we?”

  “Not a chance. It might have been possible with a state of the art camera and a telephoto lens, but not with the equipment my man’s using. Anyway, that stuff would be far too big to carry around on a job, most of the time.”

  “Damn. I told Nigel to fire her. The bloody woman’s a total liability. There’s only one subject those two could be discussing and that’s the girl. You’re going to have to deal with her Anders.”

  “Are you sure, Mrs Baxter? If too many employees have accidents, the police might start to get suspicious.”

  “I know it’s a risk, but the stupid cow is jeopardising everything, especially now that we’re so close to developing a cure. Make it look like a suicide.”

  “Okay. What do you want me to do about your son?”

  “That’s a trickier one. Keep your man on him. We need to make sure he’s not going anywhere near the girl – or Floyd for that matter. I can’t believe the little sod actually met with Floyd.”

  Rosalind had briefed Grolby on how Jason had paid a visit to Floyd at the old sorting office in Bedford, and how the police had questioned him half an hour earlier. The policewoman, Karen Atkins, had clearly been unhappy to see the lawyers present during the interview. Rosalind had asked the woman whether her son was under arrest, and when it became clear that he was not, she had emphasised she was only allowing the interview to take place as a courtesy. A smile twitched at her lips as she recalled the look of indignation on the woman’s face when she had been informed that the interview was over.

  “I want you to go through Jason’s phone records,” Rosalind said. “He told me that Floyd phoned him on the morning he went to Bedford, but there was no indication of an incoming call on his mobile. Apparently, Floyd made sure the record was deleted. Still, something doesn’t ring true. For example, how did Floyd get hold of Jason’s number? Check the outgoing calls as well.”

  “I’ll look into it, Mrs Baxter. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes,” Rosalind said, thoughtfully. “How come Floyd knew that the girl survived? You don’t think we have a leak, do you?”

  Grolby ran his hand over the blond-grey stubble of his hair. “I don’t know how he found out, but I’ll be sure to ask him if I ever get my hands on him. If you can let me know who had access to that information
, I can look more closely at their communications.”

  “I’ll get a list to you. There are a couple of other things I need you to do too.”

  “Yes, Mrs Baxter.”

  “I think we should double the security on the girl’s room. My son’s still sniffing around, and Floyd knows that she survived the birth. I just want to make sure nothing untoward happens. That girl’s worth billions. I’m sure we can afford the cost of another guard to safeguard our investment.”

  “I’ll sort that out. And the other thing, Mrs Baxter?”

  “Yes. I want you to find Floyd again and this time, no tip-offs to the police. He knows too much. When you find him, I want you to deal with him yourself.”

  “That would be my pleasure,” Grolby said, smiling coldly.

  Chapter 51

  Friday 14th January 2033

  Antimone ate her breakfast without enthusiasm. The nurse had told her it was morning, but there was no visual indication it was true. For all she knew, it could have been the middle of the night. Despite feeling stronger, she had slept little, spending several restless hours twisting and turning, trying to get comfortable. A thin layer of stubble now covered her scalp. The sites where the biopsy samples had been taken were beginning to heal, but they were incredibly itchy, and it took all her willpower to resist scratching at the scabs.

  She dropped her spoon into the empty cereal bowl. It ricocheted off the side with a metallic clang and bounced onto the floor. She looked over the edge of the bed and saw it just beneath the metal frame, a few inches away. For a moment, she debated whether to make the effort to pick it up. She could almost hear her mother’s voice telling her not to be lazy, to clean up after herself, but after everything they had done to her, she was in no mood to cooperate. They were holding her prisoner, keeping her locked up against her will with no access to the outside world. Despite the vital nature of the work, it didn’t give them the right to treat her like a lab rat, performing tests and experiments without her permission. And still the nagging doubt persisted. What they would do when they had the answers?