Decimation: The Girl Who Survived

by Burke, Richard T.

  Antimone wrapped her arms around herself and shivered violently. “But you said you were the father.”

  “Yeah, he used protection. When he’d finished, he ordered me to … well, you know.”

  As she processed Jason’s words, it all seemed horribly plausible. “Christ, is there anybody who hasn’t had sex with me?”

  “Well, me for a start,” Floyd said. “I just had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I saw you both come out of the bedroom. Neither of you looked in the least bit distressed. I thought you were just, um … getting to know each other a little better.”

  “What were you doing there?” Jason asked.

  “I didn’t murder my wife all those years ago. Eileen called me from work on the day she disappeared. She sounded upset and said she was coming home, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was about. She never arrived. When the police questioned the Ilithyia people afterwards, they said she hadn’t turned up at all that day. They found a record of the outgoing call, but your mother explained it away by saying that somebody phoned me to ask if I knew where my wife was.”

  “That still doesn’t explain what you were doing at the house.”

  “I think your mother was involved somehow, Jason. The police never discovered anything at Ilithyia’s offices. I was hoping to find some evidence at your house, maybe a diary with an entry like ‘Murdered a member of staff today and framed her husband.’”

  “What? After all that time?”

  “Well, I’d exhausted every other avenue so …”

  “How do you know it was my mother?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure. I suppose it could have been somebody else at Ilithyia. In any case, whoever it was must have planted Eileen’s blood in the boot of my car. You can’t imagine what it’s like serving a sentence for the murder of your wife when you know some other bastard was responsible and got away with it. All these years later, I still find it hard to talk about.”

  “What about when you threatened me at the seaside?” Antimone asked.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Not my finest moment, I know. Look, I thought the pair of you had set me up. Remember this is the second time I’ve been framed for a serious crime. My head was all over the place. I followed you from Northstowe. Then I saw you messing around and having fun while I was still a wanted man, hiding from the police. It all just got to me. All I can do is apologise.”

  “Well you scared the shit out of me,” Antimone said, folding her arms. “You must be really proud of yourself.”

  “Like I said, I’m sorry. I did help to get you out of there, though.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Anyway, the bottom line is that woman still has my child. How are we going to get him back?”

  “We could go to the police,” Jason said.

  “That’s a big risk,” Floyd said. “I suspect your mother’s not going to just give him up. But if that’s what you want to do.”

  “So what do you propose?” Antimone asked.

  “We have access to her computer. I suggest we try to find out what she’s planning before we make our own plans. We might even discover where she’s keeping the boy.”

  “The boy as you call him,” Antimone said, “has a name. It’s Paul. Before we do anything, I want to call my parents and let them know I’m alive.”

  “I think you should wait until we know what Jason’s mother is up to before doing that,” Floyd said. “Telling them would be like talking to the police.”

  “Hmm. So where is this equipment then?”

  “It’s back at my squat in Huntingdon. We’ve hacked into her computer and can read anything that’s stored on it, like emails and so on.”

  Antimone fastened her seat belt. “So what are waiting for? Let’s find out what that evil witch is up to.”

  Chapter 69

  Monday 17th January 2033

  Jason, Antimone and Floyd sat around the tablet computer. The display showed a list of emails on the left side of the screen. The information was split into three columns: one for the title, another for the sender and the last for the time received. As they watched, the cursor moved to one titled ‘Tim Belton reference request’. The sender was somebody named John James. The bold font indicated that the email had not yet been read. A second later, all the items in the list shuffled up one position.

  “She just deleted it without reading it,” Jason said.

  “Who needs a reference anyway?” Floyd said. “You should try spending sixteen years in prison for murder. Then see how easy it is to get a job.”

  “When’s she going to go home?” Antimone asked. Jason had lent her a chunky pale blue jumper which she wore over the thin hospital gown. On her feet was a borrowed pair of thick woollen socks. “How are we going to find out what she’s planning if all we can do is watch her deleting emails without even reading them?”

  “Patience,” Floyd said. “She’s got to stop at some point.”

  The three people fell silent as another five emails disappeared from the list without being opened.

  The tablet rested atop an overturned plastic crate. An extension cable snaked away from a plug block into the adjacent room. The computer’s power supply and a small fan heater occupied two of the four sockets. Antimone was in the wheelchair while Jason and Floyd leant against the pock-marked wall, sitting on the bare floorboards. A battery-driven camping lantern provided the illumination from its position on the floor in the centre of the room. At the side of the stark room was a sleeping bag resting on top of an airbed. A heavy brown blanket lay beside the opposite wall.

  “So, have you found anything out about your wife?” Jason asked.

  Floyd’s eyes remained fixed on the screen. “I searched all over the network. There are files relating to other things at about the time my wife disappeared, but nothing directly relevant. There was one password-protected file on your mother’s hard drive. It looked like it was last modified at around that time, but I wasn’t able to open it.”

  “Sorry,” Jason said, “I don’t think I can help. You’re talking, what, sixteen or seventeen years ago? I’ve no idea what my mother was into in those days. It could be pretty much anything. There are websites that list the most popular passwords, but I can’t see my mother picking something that obvious.”

  “So no suggestions?” Floyd asked, diverting his gaze from the tablet display to search Jason’s face.

  “What about her initials and her birthday or something?”

  “It’s worth a try. What’s her–”

  Floyd paused as a sudden movement on the screen caught his eye. The picture changed from that of an email program to what appeared to be a shiny, black surface. A hand entered the shot. The image jerked while the hidden person adjusted the camera angle. As the fingers moved out of the way, the picture stabilised, and Rosalind Baxter’s face gained focus. A click came from the small speakers on the computer.

  “Can they hear what I’m saying, Anders?” Rosalind asked a person who was standing out of the camera’s line of vision.

  Her eyes darted left and right then settled on a point at the centre of the screen. “Hello Jason, Antimone and Daniel. I assume you can all hear me. My Chief of Security, Mr Grolby, assures me that your little bug is picking up my voice and everything on the display. A very clever ploy, but I have to admit I’m disappointed in you, Jason. I’m assuming you’re the one who put it in place. Don’t bother answering by the way. I can’t hear you.

  “So you managed to free your friend. First of all, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that she signed a contract when we agreed to treat her. She’s now in breach of that contract, and I’ll be seeking legal redress for the cost of her treatment.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Antimone said. “She’s making out that I’m the one in the wrong.”

  Floyd waved a hand to shush Antimone.

  “… generous offer to waive any legal action if she returns to the hospital immediately,” Rosalind continued. “We’re very clo
se to a cure. The future of the human race depends on our ability to continue studying you, Antimone. You don’t want to be responsible for the deaths of countless women who’ll die in childbirth just because you couldn’t handle a little discomfort, do you?

  “I take it my son – my adopted son, that is – has told you that he is the father of your child, Antimone? Well, if he hasn’t, welcome to the family.”

  A fleeting smile crossed her lips. She reached out her arms to somebody off-screen and accepted a small bundle, wrapped in a white blanket. “I guess I’m a grandmother now,” Rosalind said, turning the bundle around to show the baby’s face to the camera. She bounced the child gently up and down a couple of times. The baby opened one eye and yawned then settled back into a peaceful repose.

  “Paul,” Antimone said in a strangled voice.

  “Don’t worry, we’re taking good care of him – for now,” Rosalind said. Her arms extended to hand the child back. Her gaze focused back on the screen. “He’s missing his mother, Antimone. So here’s what I’d like to propose.

  “You – that’s all of you by the way – come here to Ilithyia by nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Antimone, you’ll be reunited with your son. You can call your parents and they can visit whenever they want. We’ll continue to study you until we’ve developed a cure. We won’t do any procedures without explaining them fully and obtaining your permission first, although I think we’ve already got all the data we need. When we start the first patient trials in a week or two, you’ll be free to go home.

  “I’ve decided to be generous and forgive your foolish actions, Jason. I was wrong to ask you to forget about your friend. I’m sure you’d much rather be at home than in some squalid hideout.

  “Mr Floyd – Daniel – I’d be happy to show you the records we have available from the time of your wife’s disappearance. I know you think my company had something to do with her death, but I can assure you that isn’t the case. The police investigated very thoroughly sixteen years ago, and I’d be glad to let you see everything I showed them at the time.

  “There is just one condition. If the police are involved, the whole deal’s off. They’ll only complicate matters. I’m sure we can sort this out like adults. If you want to discuss anything, Jason has my mobile number. If I don’t hear anything, I expect to see you all tomorrow morning.”

  Rosalind gave a slight nod of the head. The screen flickered once then turned black.

  Chapter 70

  Monday 17th January 2033

  Jason pulled the phone out of his pocket and turned on the screen. “It’s still before seven. We’ve got more than twelve hours to make a decision, but I think we should just call the police.” He placed the device on the floor beside him.

  “I don’t trust her,” Floyd said. “It’s all just a bit too easy. I mean, she could have let me see the files months ago. She’s hardly going to show me anything incriminating, is she? And if she’s so relaxed about allowing you to see your parents, Antimone, why didn’t she let you see them in the first place?”

  “I don’t know,” Antimone said. “She’s still got my son. I don’t want to do anything that puts him at risk. I vote for doing as she says.”

  “It all just seems too good to be true,” Jason said. “I walk into her company, gas her security guards, and she’s just going to brush it all under the carpet and take me back. I’m sorry, but I don’t buy it.”

  “Maybe we can set up a message that goes to the police automatically if we don’t stop it so that they know where we are if anything happens,” Antimone said.

  “Hmm, maybe,” Floyd said. “The question is whether they would believe us, especially if we’re not there in person to argue the case.”

  “Whatever we decide, I think we should all do it together,” Jason said.

  “I’m just nipping to the loo,” Antimone said.

  “Do you need a hand or anything?” Jason asked. He blushed as he realised the stupidity of his question.

  “I think I can manage,” Antimone said, a thin smile brushing her lips. “I have been doing this for four years, you know.”

  Jason turned back to the tablet. Floyd had closed the remote display application and was now staring at a password box. “You suggested your mother might have used her birthday or initials.”

  “You don’t know how many characters then?”

  “No, it could be any number,” Floyd said.

  “Well her birthday is the eighteenth of April, and she was forty-five two years ago so that makes her year of birth … um … nineteen eighty-six I think. Her middle name is Susan.”

  Floyd typed in ‘180486rsb’ and pressed the enter key. An ‘Incorrect password’ message appeared, and the password entry box cleared.

  Floyd quickly tried several combinations, reversing the date, reversing her initials, swapping the order of the initials and the digits. “This is hopeless,” he said.

  “I’ve got another idea,” Jason said. “I know my mother sometimes swaps letters for similar looking numbers and vice versa. Try changing the S for a five and the zero for an O, maybe even an L for the one.”

  Floyd rapidly entered several permutations of Rosalind Baxter’s initials and birthday. “No, that’s no good either.” He leant back against the wall and sighed. “After a day like today, I could do with a stiff drink.”

  Jason frowned then jerked forwards. “What did you just say?”

  “I said I could do with a stiff drink. Why, do you have one stashed away somewhere?”

  “My mother’s always going on about a particular make and vintage of red wine. It costs something like a quarter of a million pounds a bottle. Even the newer vintages cost several hundred quid.”

  “You’ll have to narrow the field a bit for me,” Floyd said. “Can you remember what it’s called?”

  “Chateau something or other,” Jason said. “I remember it sounds like a woman’s name.”

  Floyd opened a browser window and typed in ‘Chateau expensive wine’. He scrolled down the list of results. “Lafite? Rothschild? They don’t sound like women’s names.”

  Jason shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”

  “Mouton? Margaux?”

  “That’s it,” Jason said. “Margaux. Try Chateau Margaux expensive wine.”

  “It says here that one of the most expensive vintages is seventeen eighty-seven. Apparently forty-five years ago, some bloke who owned a bottle took it with him to a restaurant. He didn’t open it or anything, but a waiter knocked it off the table. His insurance company paid out about a quarter of a million dollars for it.”

  “That’s the one,” Jason said excitedly. “I remember my mother telling me the story. Try Chateau Margaux seventeen eighty-seven.”

  Floyd transferred back to the password screen and entered the letters. “No,” he said. “That didn’t work.”

  “Try capital letters and swap the words around.”

  Floyd tried several alternatives, his mood deflating with every failed attempt.

  “Remove the Chateau part. So just Margaux followed by the date.”

  Floyd typed in Jason’s suggestion and shook his head.

  “Leave a space between Margaux and the numbers.”

  The password box disappeared. A list of files took its place.

  “Bingo!” Floyd said. “Good guess. Let’s see what’s in here then.” He opened the first file and scrolled down what appeared to be a report. “Just some test results by the looks of it.”

  He selected the next file. The scrollbar indicated he was about halfway through the contents when he stopped. “Hang on, what’s this?”

  He read the words on the screen then moved the document down a page. “What’s your birthday, Jason?”

  “Tenth of April.”

  “What year?”

  “Twenty sixteen.”

  “My God,” Floyd said, his mouth dropping open in shock. In a frenzy, he opened several of the other documents and quickly scanned the contents while Jaso
n looked over his shoulder. “This is staggering. It’s far worse than I thought. We’ve got no choice but to go the police now.”

  Jason’s face was pale. He clasped his arms across his chest and shivered. “I can’t believe she would do something like that.”

  “The evidence is here in black and white. When Antimone comes back, we’ll all go to the police station and show them these documents.”

  “I just can’t believe it.”

  “She's always been a bitch, but I never thought she was capable of anything like this.”

  “I thought I knew her. All this time–”

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. At least now we know the truth even though it may be hard to swallow.”

  “It’s just …” Jason’s voice tailed away.

  Both men sat in silence. Floyd continued to scroll through the documents. He closed the last one and glanced up from the screen. “Where the hell has that girl got to? I guess things take longer in a wheelchair, but even so.”

  “I’ll go and check on her.”

  “Do you want to borrow the light?”

  “No it’s alright. I think there’s a torch on the phone.” Jason felt in his pockets and realised the phone wasn’t there. He cast his mind back and remembered putting it on the floor shortly after his mother disconnected the computer. It was no longer where he had left it. “Did you pick up the phone?”

  “No.”

  “Shit. We might have a problem. The phone’s gone, and I think Antimone took it.” Jason rushed into the hallway calling her name. No response. He opened the front door and stared both ways along the quiet street. Seconds later, he sensed Floyd’s presence behind him.

  “How much money did you put in it? Enough to get a taxi?” Jason asked.

  “I think it was about a hundred quid. That’s probably just about enough to get to Ilithyia.”

  “Well she’s left, and there’s only one place she could be going.”