by Jack Parker
Lia creased her forehead.
"Just because I didn't have a date, it didn't mean that I would resort to bringing my mother! The cheek of it!"
Lia blinked. He must have been on his mobile. She closed her eyes, leaning against the staircase. Her breathing was slow, measured. She couldn't risk getting seen. It would destroy the plan.
And she was so scared.
She wanted to stay there, stand there, forever, frozen in that one moment in time, unable to move and encased in that thick layer of ice as the grandfather clock ticked by slowly, surely. And it reminded her that it was nearly time.
It was nearly time.
"Yes, yes, I'll calm down, Roland. I need some sleep. It's been a long night. Say hello to Harriet for me."
He hung up, then sighed. She heard the key click in the doorway. The door was locked. Fallock's heavy footsteps scuffed against the carpet as he made his way across the main hall, then up the winding staircase. The main hall was once again encompassed in darkness.
Once she was sure that he was out of range, Lia stepped out from her hiding place and scoured her surroundings searchingly. The plush carpet stretched out before her as the grandfather clock ticked away mercilessly. A few paintings adorned the walls, which were clad in heavy plaster, the subjects of which she could not make out beneath the lack of light.
Where was he?
Two hands rested on her shoulders. Her stomach jumped and she suppressed a scream.
"Boo," he drawled.
She elbowed him in the stomach. "You scared me," she hissed.
"Do you remember the plan?"
She rolled her eyes. He loved to be in control. "It's a bit simple not to remember."
His hands remained on her shoulders. "You're still shivering."
She was, but she hated it that he noticed. "I'm not," she snapped.
He massaged her shoulders. "Be calm. You won't be able to do it otherwise."
Lia shook her head. "Why can't you –"
He cut her off. "It's your mission. You have to do this."
She bit her bottom lip. "I know." She sighed.
He pushed her forward, gently. She walked to the foot of the stairs, then stopped and turned.
He cocked his head to the side. "Go, I'm coming."
She nodded slowly, then placed her foot on the first step. What if he didn't come? She knew she couldn't do this on her own. She turned again.
"Cal –"
"I told you I wouldn't leave you alone, and I won't."
The banisters were cold beneath her grip, an icy chill penetrating through her gloves. She wasn't sure if it was from the banisters, or if it was just her. She gazed up at the staircase as it coiled above her; it looked endless.
She made her way up the stairs, slowly, stealthily. Darkness met her with every step she took, a few beams of white light escalating from somewhere that she couldn't see. Lia looked for the source of the light, then found it. At the top of the staircase was a large, glass window, a few lamps hanging outside of it.
She made her way towards it and placed her hand on the glass, feeling the cool panes beneath her gloves. She wanted to take them off, to feel the glass with the tips of her fingers and wipe away the thick layer of condensation as water mingled with her skin.
Lia bit her bottom lip. She was stalling for time and there wasn't enough time to do that. She had to go forward. Cal would come; she knew he would.
She scuffed the carpet beneath her shoe. Moonlight shone over its black surface. It was like the saying, "In Darkness, there is light." She allowed herself a wry smile.
Everything seemed to be moving slowly. Fallock would be in his room. She knew what she had to do, but she couldn't let him hear her.
Upon finding his room, she gently eased open the door. She heard a gasp, then the scuffling of feet. Lia entered. He was stood at the foot of his bed, a broom in hand. He was shaking.
And the hatred suddenly boiled back, overcoming her senses.
She hated him so much.
"I-I'll attack you," he stammered.
She allowed herself a wry smile. He was far too fat to pin down, so she would have to go for another approach. She stepped forward. He whimpered.
"W-what d-do y-you w-want?"
She tilted her head to the side. "I think you already know the answer to that." She was amazed at how cold her voice sounded.
A rush of wind swept past her and, before she knew what was happening, Fallock had been knocked to the floor, the broom clattering to the ground. Cal took his place beside her, then placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Are you ready?" he whispered.
She nodded slowly.
He noticed the hesitation. He dug his hand into her pocket, then pulled out her gun. Cal placed it in her palm. It felt so cold.
Lia bit her bottom lip, then began to aim. Her hands were shaking, trembling. Then everything suddenly rushed back to her. She felt her stomach clench. She wanted to run, run away and hide. She didn't want to be here.
But she was.
"Lia, do it!"
She could feel every breath as it shook her body. Everything seemed so blurred, so detached. She clasped her fingers over the trigger. She had to do it. They had gotten this far; she couldn't give up now.
Lacey's words rang in her ears.
"People aren't just empty vessels that you can do with what you please..."
She pulled down the gun, then shook her head. "I can't do it."
"You have to, Lia. Hurry up! Remember what I told you!"
She blinked. "But –"
He grabbed her shoulders, wrenching her around to face him. He shook her. "What the hell has gotten into you? Everyone's risked so much to get us here and you're just blowing it."
She bit her lip. "I –"
And then the alarm bells rang.
They both shot around abruptly. Fallock was lingering by a button near the headboard of his bed.
He cocked his head to the side, smirking. "Security systems. Couldn't live without them."
Cal grabbed her arm, pulling her to the door. "We have to get out of here, now!"
Lia took in a deep breath, then grabbed the gun and pivoted to face Fallock. A look of shock marred his features.
They'd all done so much to get here. She couldn't blow it.
She couldn't mess up the mission.
Embrace it, accept it, only then will you move forward…
It was in that moment that she made up her mind.
She was the hunter and he, the hunted.
And then she pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 15
A deafening crash echoed through the room, followed by a high pitched scream.
His face froze, immobilized with fear. And then he fell to the floor, blood pooling around him and staining the carpet a heavy rouge. Alarm bells rang in the background. They sounded dim, faint, as they echoed within her ears and beat against her skull.
And she couldn't stop looking at him.
She felt sick.
Cal grabbed her arm, shoving her out of the door and closing it behind her.
"Quickly," he hissed.
They ran across the landing; they could hear the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. Fallock sure had a quick security system. Lights flared from outside of the many windows lining the landing, cutting through the darkness and blinding them before they moved on.
And everything felt so numb, so detached.
Cal still had her arm and he was leading her in a different direction than that of which they had come.
They reached a doorway. He shoved her inside, then followed and slammed the door shut behind them. There was no light and little space. The darkness washed over her vision. She felt his hands on her shoulders as he pinned her against the wall, his breathing rapid. He pushed something into her hand and she closed her fingers over its cool exterior.
"I'm going to go out and distract them," he whispered. His breathing was still rapid; he was tired. "When this
vibrates –" He indicated the object in her hand "–I want you to make a run for it and go through the back and into the garden. I'll meet you there."
She shook her head. A few beams of white light wafted down from a window in the ceiling. Half of his face shone white, the other half shadowed by the thick bangs as they fell over his features.
His grip on her shoulders tightened.
"Don't leave me alone." Her voice was shaking.
What was wrong with her?
Why was she so scared?
And all she could see was the carpet as it stained a heavy rouge and pools of blood formed around his sleeping figure and that look of shock remained, frozen, on his face for all eternity.
And everything felt so numb, so detached.
"I'm not," he replied softly. "I'll meet you out there."
Liashook her head again. "You're going to get hurt."
He grinned lopsidedly, then cocked his head to the side. "I'm wounded by your lack of confidence in me." His expression became more serious. "I won't. Don't worry about me, okay? Just be out as soon as it vibrates and then we can get out of here. Trust me."
"I do."
He tucked some hair behind her ear. "I'll see you in a little while, then."
She nodded slowly. His arms slipped down from her shoulders and fell to his sides, then he turned to walk away.
Lia grabbed his arm, then bit her lip. He turned to face her again. "Be careful, okay?" Her voice was soft, quiet. And she was just so scared.
His eyes met hers. His gaze was intense, his green eyes omitting a soft glimmer beneath the white light. He offered her a ghost of a smile, then nodded.
She let her hand drop, then watched his retreating form and the door as it closed behind him. The room was once again basked in silence, but this time she was alone. Lia fingered the small device in her hand; it was cold, cool to the touch. She shoved it in her pocket, then slipped down into a sitting position.
Lia cast her gaze upon the small window in the ceiling; Beams of white light crisscrossed over the dark carpet, running over its surface before they reached the wall and diminished.
She held her knees to her chest and rocked backwards and forward. Everything was so dark, so empty. Lia wished the thing he had given her would just vibrate; a feeling of unease rested in the pit of her stomach. She just wanted it to be done and over with, that way she could just forget.
She just wanted to forget.
Her breath caught in her throat, suddenly. She could hear a pair footsteps and a low, booming voice.
"…Don't know what he did."
Someone replied, "He got away, but they're still searching for him. Apparently they lost him."
Her stomach dropped. Lost him? Did that mean that he had already left?
The footsteps stopped outside of the door. She bit her bottom lip, her breathing rapid. They were coming in. They would see her. She could feel her body shaking. Lia held her knees closer to her chest, backing against the wall. She wanted to shrink, to fade into the wall.
What would they do to her once they found her?
The light continued to dance across the carpet; it reached her, illuminating her face and casting patterns over her form. The door handle turned, slowly. Her breath caught in her throat.
A harsh beeping sound echoed outside, followed by an ear-splitting bang.
"Holy shit!"
Lia ducked from instinct; she could hear their retreating footsteps as they raced across the landing.
Something vibrated in her pocket.
It was time.
Lia shot up, then made her way to the door and pushed it open. She stepped out onto the landing. Her eyes widened. She clasped a hand over her mouth and nose, the thick smell of fumes consuming her nostrils. There was no time to survey the damage; the security would be back.
She took the opposite direction down the corridor, the plan of the house racing through her head. Lia could still feel herself trembling as she ran through the corridor and took a turn.
An empty corridor blared out before her. Gun shots rattled through the air. She pushed open a door behind her and threw herself into the room, hurriedly locking it. Someone began kicking at the outside of the door, causing it to shake and vibrate.
She looked around frantically, then spotted the window. As far as she knew, it would lead into the garden. Lia ran towards it and fumbled with the latch. It was bolted. The kicking outside grew harsher, followed by heavy shouts.
She stepped back. There was no time. Lia pulled out her gun, then shot at the glass twice. An ear-splitting crash resounded through the room as the glass shattered and flew everywhere. She ran her eyes over the room. There were a few cupboards stacked haphazardly in the corner and a small bed.
She hurried towards the cupboards. The door was beginning to give way. Lia tried to wrench off the front of one of the chest of drawers. They were old and loose, so they would, hopefully, give way easily. She began to twist it from side to side, attempting to loosen it. One of the sides broke off. Lia pulled out her gun and shot the other side, causing it to fall onto her lap.
She bit her lip in pain, then stood up and raced towards the window. She pushed out all of the glass with the front of the cupboard, then stepped out onto the ledge. There was railing along the walls. She fumbled for her belt and took a coil of rope, then secured it over the railing. Lia tossed it over the edge and began to climb down.
She heard the door give way behind her, accompanied by heavy shouts.
There was no time to climb all the way down. They would kill her before she reached the bottom. She closed her eyes, then allowed herself to slide down the rope.
Her hands burned, the rough chord cutting against her flesh. She wanted desperately to let go, but knew that she couldn't. Lia reached the ground, falling onto the grass. Gunshots rattled through the air.
She ran, blindly, through the darkness and towards one of the bushes. She ducked behind it and scoured her eyes over the vast landscape behind her. The wood was only a runaway and that was where Cal had said he would meet her.
Lia bit her lip and raced towards it, diving behind one of the trees. A hand grabbed her arm, causing her stomach to jump. She was about to scream, but a hand closed over her mouth.
It was Cal.
She relaxed.
"We have to get out of here, now." His tone of voice was urgent.
He pulled her up. They sprinted through the wood, twigs snapping beneath their feet. Finally, they reached the edge.
A car stood there, waiting for them. The window was pulled open and Leigh indicated for them to get in. They dived into the back and slammed shut the door.
"You're lucky that they didn't see my car." He sounded annoyed.
The engine hummed, whirred, and they were off into the night.
* * *
Lia awoke.
Sun light bled through the curtains, bathing the room in a harsh white glow. She pushed herself up and felt her muscles groan in protest. Lia leaned against the headboard of the bed and took in a few deep breaths.
She pushed off the covers and got out, then made her way out of her room and into the bathroom.
Lia surveyed her reflection in the mirror. She was pale and her hair was a mess. She turned the tap and allowed the cold water to run between her fingers, then she threw it onto her face.
She had to forget; if she forgot it, then it would no longer bother her. There was no point in dwelling on what was the past; she had to move forward and embrace the future. It was the only way that she would get better.
There had been no mission.
There had been no ball.
She hadn't shot Arthur Fallock.
Lia felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of her chest. She exited the bathroom and made her way into the main room.
Lacey was sat on the sofa talking on the phone. She indicated for Lia to come nearer.
"It's Carmon. He wants to talk to you about something."
She tossed
her the phone; Lia caught it and brought it to her ear. Lacey left for the kitchen.
"Aloha, amigo," he said chirpily.
She had to forget. He sounded happy, normal, so she would too. Lia rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
