Dennis put out his hand and Max shook it warmly.
“Find out what happened to Ben.”
“I’ll try my hardest.”
Dennis turned and hurried up the stairs, holding on to the handrail. Max watched him retreating and for a moment wanted to race along after him.
But then he knew he couldn’t. He had unfinished business here. He turned and started to head back into the base.
Dennis emerged from the office and stepped into the gloom that cloaked the boatyard. His head ached terribly and he felt groggy like he’d woken up with a particularly bad hangover. Much as he hated leaving Max down there on his own, he knew that in his current condition he’d be no good in a fight and would be a constant liability. The best he could hope to do was to get help as soon as he could.
Across the black expanse of the lake, Dennis saw blue lights approaching the entrance to the pier. The distinctive lights could only be from emergency vehicles and without his mobile phone, this serendipitous sight felt like a miracle. If he headed for the Marine Bridge, he could get across the lake in minutes. Without further thought, he started half-running, half-walking towards the bridge.
After so many years dreaming about his son and how he was going to make those responsible for his disappearance pay for what they’d done, now that he was so close to answers, he felt like a terrified old fool. Carla had said as much earlier. How she'd sooner not know what had happened. He’d not understood her before. How could she not want to know what had happened to her son? They’d been lied to for the last twenty years. Ben had been hidden and forgotten in a nest of lies.
But faced with the reality of these people and seeing what they could do, he could see what Carla meant. Yesterday, Ben was alive. At least, in Dennis’s memories he was alive. Today, what was he? One of those blanks trapped underground?
Dennis lifted his head to the moon and breathed in the night air as he ran through the boatyard’s gates. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t kept on chipping away at the mystery of his son’s disappearance, Max would have left them alone and Carla wouldn’t have been transformed, chained and injured on the kitchen floor. How could things ever be normal again?
Brushing aside such thoughts, he focused on the blue lights and pushed on.
As the man with the dressing left the boatyard, the shadows by the entrance moved. Cindy stepped carefully around the entrance gates, watching the man depart. She didn’t recognise him and had no interest in finding out who he was, although it unsettled her that he’d come from the direction she was headed in. Her phone started to ring again and she hurriedly answered it and pressed the phone to her ear, desperate that the stranger shouldn’t hear and about turn. He didn’t and she listened to the voice at the other end for a few seconds, before hurrying into the boatyard.
37
Max didn’t know which way to go. All the corridors were starting to look the same to him and he realised how much he missed having his comrade around. On a couple of occasions he’d heard footsteps from somewhere close and he’d sought out places to conceal himself. He’d been lucky so far but he couldn’t carry on like this. At some point he was going to have to confront the man running this operation and he needed a plan before doing so.
Turning a corner Max found himself back at a familiar corridor. Cautiously, he stepped along it, keeping his eyes focused on the open doorway ahead: the room that Emma had locked him and Dennis up in with all the blanks. The lights were on, and as Max approached, he saw that the room was empty. More confidently, he strode up to the door and poked his head inside. Save for the benches that the blanks had been sitting on, the room was empty; the blanks had left.
“Hey, stop right there!” A man shouted from behind.
Max turned and saw a large man in a sharp suit step out of a room Max had just passed. He dropped the folder he was carrying, and pulled the same tube like weapon he’d seen Thadeus use at the hospital. Standard issue, Max thought then slowly raised his hands. He had no intention of being shot by a clown when he knew he was so close to understanding what had happened to Heather.
“Who the hell are you?” the man said, strolling up to Max, gun never wavering.
“I’m a guest of Thadeus.”
He chuckled. “Is that right. And you thought you’d have a good look round did you?”
“Speak to him yourself if you don’t believe me. Thadeus asked me to get him a drink.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Bullshit. Put your arms up. Turn and face the wall.”
“He really wanted that drink. I think you’re going to piss him off by making him wait.”
“I’ll take that chance.” The man came closer and shoved Max against the wall, knocking his hands and kicking his legs apart.
“He’s not going to be happy you’re treating one of his guests like this. I’m going to tell him what a dick you’re being, unless of course you let me go now.”
The man proceeded to pat him down as best he could with the one hand he had free. Max noticed with dismay that he didn’t seem keen to let go of the gun.
“Thadeus doesn’t let guests in here. Why would he?”
“He wanted me to come and check on the blanks.”
He paused. “What did you say?”
“I’m a doctor. He wanted me to come and check on those faceless people in storage. Make sure they were OK. Man they gave me the creeps. What’d he do to them?”
“Did he not tell you?”
“No. He seemed in a hurry. Just wanted me in and out.”
There was a pause and Max knew he had him confused.
Max took his chance and spun around, reaching for the man’s wrists. He failed to grab the gun but managed to knock it from his grasp. It clattered on the floor. Both men looked for it, but Max refused to let the man make any move towards it. He thrust forwards and tried to drive the man across the corridor into the opposite wall. He half succeeded. The man was too strong and pushed back against him. Suddenly, Max’s revolt was looking pretty pitiful.
The two men were locked in a struggle, each trying to exert dominance over the other. The man’s face was furious. He was grimacing and snarling at this man who’d dared to try to attack him.
A knee rose up and slammed into Max’s groin. The pain was incredible and Max let go, reacting to the fire that was spreading upwards. It was all his attacker needed. He made a grab for the weapon and brought it to bear. Max glanced up, knowing that his attempt had failed. Wondering what this man was prepared to do.
The man with the gun was red in the face, his breathing heavy but steady. Physical exertion didn’t seem to be a problem.
“Doctor eh? You’re going to need one when I’ve finished with you.”
“Thadeus won’t be pleased.”
“Ah, well. I guess he’s going to be pretty pissed off that there’s an intruder walking around the base as it is.”
“What are you going to do?”
But he never got a chance to answer.
A flash of blue light zipped along the corridor and blasted the man’s side. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Cindy stood at the end of the corridor. Her arm raised, holding her own weapon. She regarded him with a curious expression on her face. Max approached her cautiously. Her eyes weren’t focusing on him. She was looking off into the distance.
“Cindy?”
No reply. She walked past him and looked down at the man on the ground.
“He was going to kill you.”
“If he was, then you’ve saved my life.” He was relieved to see her, but furious at the same time. “Damn it Cindy, what did you do to me that night? Heather’s dead. Did you kill her?”
She didn’t answer. Her phone started ringing. It was an oddly prosaic sound in this situation. Unbelievably, she retrieved the phone from a jacket pocket and answered the call.
“Yes, mum.”
He stepped closer to her; tried to listen to the voice on the other e
nd.
“Yes, I’m sorry. There was something I had to do. I’m on my way.”
“Cindy, who are you talking to?”
She hung up the phone and started walking back the way she’d come.
“Cindy!”
She stopped still, spun around and aimed her gun. She thumbed a switch on the side. The blue cylinder hummed with energy. Max glanced behind him, looking for a hiding place, but he was going to be too late. She pulled the trigger. A red beam of light came at him, but zipped by. It impacted the man on the floor and with a fizzle and a smell of burnt steak, the man was gone. In his place, the shadow of a corpse. Max noticed with dismay that his chance of a weapon had gone with it.
“Don’t follow me,” she said, then turned and strode down the corridor.
Yeah, right. Max waited until she turned another corner, then hurried after her.
38
Cindy strode purposefully down the corridors like she owned the place. Max followed as closely as he dared, imagining that at any moment he’d run into that bitch who’d locked him and Dennis up with the faceless people.
He kept on her tail for five minutes, hugging the walls, as far back as he could without losing her. For the first time since entering this maze, he was glad of the poor lighting. The gloom had become a crucial ally. A couple of times he had to duck into rooms when she hesitated about which way to go. So, Max surmised, despite her confidence, she didn’t know her way around this base either.
Her phone rang. Mas ducked inside an open room.
With the door open a crack, he could make out the conversation.
“OK, so which way now?”
A pause.
“OK, I’m on my way.”
Cindy moved off, and when he thought it was safe, Max continued his pursuit. She vanished from sight around a corner and Max picked up the pace so he wouldn’t lose her. As he approached the corner, he paused. Cindy was on the phone again. He edged up to the corner and risked taking a peek. She was about five metres away. A security door had blocked her path.
“The last code won’t work on this,” she was saying into the mobile. Then, “OK, right.” And she started tapping in a number on the adjacent keypad. The door slid open and she passed through. As soon as it closed, Max ran and tried to get his fingers between the frame and the door, but the door had a strong motor driving it and the door threatened to crush his fingers. He let it go and looked instead to the keypad.
He closed his eyes and pictured Cindy typing in the numbers. There had been eight of them. If he’d had a bit of warning he’d have done this blindfold, but Cindy had moved over for the last digit and obscured it. Still, there could only be a few buttons she’d have pressed for that last digit.
He tapped in the first seven digits from memory, and guessed that the last was 3.
The LED on the keypad flashed red and a second light on a panel he hadn’t noticed before stayed lit. This didn’t look great. How many chances did he have?
He looked closer at the keypad, bending down so he could really see the digits on the buttons. The equipment was old. No doubt about it. That gave Max a fighting chance of working this out. Of the four buttons on the right column, two had worn the lettering down on the face of the buttons substantially more than the other two. Max had chosen one of the other buttons as his last. That gave him three to try, but one of those was the other non-worn down button, so he actually only had two to try.
But how many chances was he going to get. The light on the panel hadn’t gone out yet. It didn’t look like it was about to forget his previous attempt.
He sighed.
“Nothing to lose,” he said to the door.
He tapped in a new combination, all ready for the sirens to sound and the men with guns to turn up.
The door slid open.
Max ducked inside, scarcely believing his luck as the door slid closed behind him.
On the other side, everything was darker and grubbier. The place smelt of mold. A thick brown line ran along the walls at waist height and the ground was wet. He touched the walls and ran his hand through the grime. It reminded him of the inside of a bath tub that hadn’t been cleaned. A tide mark. This place had been flooded. Was that why it seemed in worse condition than the rest of the place?
Cindy was nowhere to be seen.
He walked cautiously along the corridor, senses alert for any clue that would indicate where Cindy was. Each of these rooms had keypads by the doors unlike the rest of the complex. They must be keeping something valuable down here.
Max stopped. The door to his left was open. He stood against the doorway, keeping well out of sight. He could hear movement inside the room. He didn’t dare look, so strained his ears to work out what was happening inside. Cindy was talking to another person. The other voice sounded young.
“Are you going to help me? They keep hurting me.”
“Of course I’m going to help you. I’m not going to leave you. What’s your name?”
“Irulal.”
“Who put you in there?”
“It’s dark.”
“I know sweetheart. I’ll do what I can to get you out.”
There was a pause. Max considered how sensible it was to stay hidden but listening to their exchange, he couldn’t stand by and not offer any help.
Max entered the room and knew that the scene before him would stay with him for the rest of his life. The room was large; about the size of a sports hall with a high ceiling. An array of spotlights were directed at the centre of the space. And that was where the coffin floated.
Except it wasn’t quite a coffin. It was a rectangular box made of a solid white material. Cables ran from the edge of the room to the coffin in the middle. Some looked like electrical cables, some were clear with lights running through them. A couple seemed to be carrying fluid. The floor and ceiling were covered with dangerous spikes, each about a foot long. As he watched, sparks flew across them. The whole place was electrified. Max could feel something in the air. It made a very uncomfortable sensation.
Cindy had her back to the entrance and was looking at a bank of controls.
Cindy spun round from the console, her face at first betraying her surprise before giving way to a stunned relief.
“Max!” Cindy sounded surprised despite speaking to him less than five minutes ago.
Max stood still, it was taking all his effort not to rush forward and grab hold of his wife. It would be so easy to do. He was owed some answers. Instead, he held his position.
“What the hell are you mixed up with Cindy?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit. You came straight down here. You knew where you were going.”
“Max, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I wish I could. It’s like I fall asleep and keep waking up, but in different places.”
“It’s happened before?”
“A few times.”
“And what about the hospital? Do you remember me at the hospital?”
“Yes,” she stared hard into his eyes. A new fierceness burning there. “You were trying to kill me.”
“No. There was another man there. Thadeus. He was trying to kidnap you.”
“But you had a gun. You were shooting at me.”
“Cindy, you’ve got it mixed up. You had the gun.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You need help.”
“I need help?” she snorted. “I’m not the one who can’t keep his dick in his pants. You started all this by sleeping with that tart.”
Max gritted his teeth. “She wasn’t a tart. She’s also dead. Left under the pier the night before last. Whatever you thought of her, none of this was her fault. She didn’t even know I was married when we met.”
“But she knew soon after didn’t she? I bet you couldn’t wait to unburden yourself on some new girl.”
“Yeah, I told her about you.”
Cindy gl
ared.
“I told her what you were like. That you wouldn’t make it easy for us if I asked for a divorce. But that didn’t matter to her. She was going to stand by me however long it took.”
“Love’s young dream.”
Max couldn’t help it. He dashed across the room and grabbed his wife by the shoulders. She was strong though and grabbed his arms, trying to pull him off her. This close, Max could see the sudden fear in her eyes. He’d never before dared to do anything so forceful with her although God knew how many times before she’d deserved it.
“What the hell have you done?”
“Get your hands off me.” She swung her arm up and the gun she’d still been carrying connected with Max’s jaw. He fell back, surprised.
She pointed the weapon at him.
“So you remember that then?” Max hissed.
She looked blank. Then looked at the weapon like she’d never seen it before.
“When you last spoke to me, you used that to kill a man who was about to kill me.”
“What are you talking about? What man.”
“When you spoke to me before.”
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
She looked blank.
Max persisted. “The man in the corridor? He was attacking me.”
“No.” She shook her head. A confused look crossed her face, and then a flash of something else—fear.
“He was going to kill me,” Max said slowly. “You shot him.”
“I what?”
“You shot him. With that.” Max nodded at the weapon.
She lifted the gun in front of her face and stared. “What’s this?”
“You remember?”
“No!” She dropped the gun and stepped away.
“What did you do to Heather? Are you going to pretend you’ve forgotten about that as well?”
She looked confused. Her frown deepened, but behind that mask, Max knew that she remembered. Her eyes darted away, and back to the box suspended in the middle of the room. “There’s someone stuck inside that box, a little girl.”
As if on cue, a girl’s voice came over a speaker set above the control panel by where Cindy was standing.
The Face Stealer Page 22
