Dead Cell

by Chris Johnson

  Chapter 29

  Sally's stomach clenched, tightening, and she felt the tension spreading through her body. She fought back the urge to scream and did her best to stay calm. But burning anger still dripped from her voice. "What have you done?"

  Joe seemed as though in another world as his head tilted to one side, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. The end of his mouth curled as he heard the faint rumbling of explosions. He heard sirens passing about three blocks from their location, their wails fading as they hurried towards the explosion site. He put his phone away in his pocket, sat back on the sofa and interlocked his fingers behind his head.

  "No one answered my warning, Ms Green," he responded. "I had to leave another message."

  He looked away and stared in the camera's direction. It was still recording. The flat screen television above the camera showed the interview as it recorded, and he looked at it without taking in the whole situation. Sally watched, noting that he had done that not long after the first explosion as well. She had seen this sort of thing before and she tried to remember where. Joe's head and shoulders started moving back and forth in a slow but constant rhythm. Then he stopped, blinked his eyes, and looked at his watch.

  "Where were you then?" Sally asked, realising the truth.

  Joe turned towards her. "Right here, of course," he replied.

  Sally knew he was being evasive. "No. You were thinking of something else, something from the past. Was it your brother and nephew's accident?"

  He shook his head, standing up and removing the mask from his face. Sally looked at Joe's face, taking in his strong features, and noting how he seemed almost eagle-like. His eyes seemed less sharp but she should still see the intensity they held. His nose appeared determined, sharp, and his chin looked strong with just a hint of a dimple. Joe clenched and unclenched his jaw, and Sally watched it make his temples throb.

  "You were in the armed forces, weren't you?" Sally asked, now recognising where she had seen this behaviour before. He didn't answer so Sally said his name.

  Joe turned around. "Fourth batallion," he answered. "Operation Slipper."

  "Afghanistan?" Sally asked. She paused, not knowing what else to say, and tried to steady the sound of her heart beating. "Do you still serve?"

  Joe didn't answer, staying silent as he sat back down again. Sally continued watching, her mind flicking through different scenarios.

  "Tell me what happened in Afghanistan," she replied. "I know you're still having flashbacks."

  His hands started wringing, his eyes zoned out, but his voice remained present. "I used to be a sniper in Operation Slipper, a damn good one. The enemy had a name for me that meant 'devil's long arm'. I could pick them off before they even knew I was there."

  Joe's voice trailed away, the flashback returning. His breathing changed, chopping to a panicked rhythm, and then he reached for his jeans pocket again. He pulled his phone out, looking at Sally. "Do you think I don't know what you're doing? They tried the same thing, trying to distract me with your ambushing questions!"

  He stepped forward without thinking and slapped Sally's face hard, punctuating the air with the sound. She screamed, her head turning from the force, and raised her arms up to stop any more blows. Joe stopped and looked at her. Exhaling hard through his nose, he held up the other hand with the phone.

  "No, Joe," Sally pleaded. "Don't do it. These are your fellow Australians you are killing."

  Fellow Australians? Joe stopped, looked at her, this time with an expression like a little boy lost in confusion between two decisions.

  Sally pressed forward with her words. "Some of those could be your friends."

  Joe's hand started shaking, almost dropping the phone, and he hesitated.

  "Or your family," Sally added.

  Joe's features softened more at the mention of his family. His bottom lip quivered as he remembered Rachael... Rebecca... Jai... and Shane.

  His voice was hardly a murmur. "They killed my brother and nephew."

  His finger punched the third number on his phone's contact list, and he waited, listening.

  "No!" Sally cried. Her eyes felt hot with impending tears and her face burned as blood rushed to it. "Not again!"

  They waited.

  It seemed to be forever.

  Joe's face took a puzzled expression. He looked at the phone, tapping the number again, and held it to his ear. Hearing nothing, he looked at it again. No signal showed on the phone. "Fuck!" He wound up, ready to throw the phone and smash it against the wall. Then he stopped and looked at the wall, seeing another phone there.

  Whatever relief Sally started to feel slipped away like water from her fingers as she watched Joe walk across the room towards the landline. He picked up the receiver, smiled when he heard the dial tone, and started punching the phone number from his mobile phone's contact list.

  The sound from the phone was loud enough for Sally to hear as it emitted a high-pitched two-note chord. A smile of relief came back again when she heard the automatic voice speaking.

  "We're sorry. The number you have called is either not connected or out of mobile range."

  Joe ripped the landline phone from the wall in rage, then he hurled the phone at the opposite wall. It smashed with a dinging sound as its bell rang its death knell.

  Chapter 30

  The Jaguar's engine roared like its namesake as it rounded the corner to the otherwise quiet residential street. Craig resisted the urge to slam the brakes, lifted his foot from the accelerator, and slowed the car to a stop beside the waiting Special Ops van. Craig and Brianna stepped out of the Jaguar to approach them. The Ops Leader approached them.

  "We got your message, Detective," he told Brianna. "But we couldn't respond. The mobile towers are down."

  "Yes, we know about that," Brianna smiled, putting her body armour back on over her clothes.

  Upon Craig's suggestion, she had called Mick, her hacker friend otherwise known as M1CK. Craig's idea was two-fold: get M1CK to track down Joseph Denton's location and disable the bombs. The only drawback was that M1CK didn't know how to track down the bombs, but he knew how to stop them exploding. It took him less than ten minutes to hack the social media site that allowed Joseph to stream video. With that information, he was able to find the IP Address of Joseph's computer and report that information back to Brianna who relayed that information to the Special Ops team. When Brianna asked M1CK what he could do about the bombs, he gave a simple answer: Leave it to me, Bree, but don't rely on your phone, and don't ask me how I do it. Of course, M1CK's best option was to hack into all three of Australia's mobile networks and disable the towers.

  The Ops Leader's comment confirmed that Craig's and M1CK's plans worked. It was a lot easier than calling the companies and asking them to shut down. They couldn't afford the wait in the queue.

  "With any luck, that means he can't trigger any more bombs off," Craig added, being careful not to mention their involvement with the hacker. He knew M1CK was not with the police, and he didn't want to spoil the boy's fun by informing on him. Craig actually thought he could like that kid.

  "He's the top floor unit on the left," the Ops Leader commented, pointing towards a lit window. "There has been some activity, but nothing clear that we can see through the curtains. We could hear some shouting from there, and some neighbours have called the disturbance in as well."

  Brianna checked her pistol's action. "I'd say he's worked out that the mobile phones aren't working. That could make him jumpy. Have you evacuated the building?"

  "Done," another Special Ops officer responded, pointing down the other end of the street.

  "Then let's make moves." Brianna turned towards Craig. "You hang back here until you're called."

  "Yes," Emily told Craig, smiling broadly, as she followed Brianna and the Special Ops team. "You stay here like a good boy while Brianna and I head off with the lads to get this man."

  "Why are you going with them?" Craig asked, trying not
to sound pathetic. "You're not even one of them!"

  One of the Special Ops men looked around at Craig, wondering to whom he spoke. He saw no one else but Craig who shrugged. Shaking his head, he followed the others and left Craig behind.

  The next ten minutes seemed to take forever. Time slowed and Craig entertained himself by talking to a few spirits on the street who were also watching the events from the street. While he was talking to one in particular, the spirit of an Aboriginal elder whose tribe used to live in the locality, Emily appeared suddenly beside him.

  "Craig!" she urged, excusing herself to the Aboriginal spirit Jiemba before turning back to the psychic. "Come on up. He's already escaped."

  "Hey, Bunji," the Aboriginal called to Craig as he left. "Wait!"

  But Craig didn't hear him as he was already running into the block of units and running up the internal stairs to the fourth floor. His heart threatened to knock itself out of his ribs by the time he reached the top, but he didn't notice. Craig slowed and walked through the door, noting its splintered condition thanks to a battering ram. He noted the officer standing near the splintered door.

  "First time door-knocking?" Craig quipped, stepping over the rubble. He looked towards Brianna who was sitting beside a dishevelled Sally and giving her a drink of water. "Sally," he exclaimed, walking towards her. "Are you okay?"

  Sally nodded between sips of water. Her hands and arms were still shaking from the shock, but she seemed otherwise fine. "I've been through worse," she told him, trying to downplay things. Craig knew of her past involvement with a mysterious man named Predator, a masked vigilante with supernatural abilities, and nodded in response. "Listen, Craig," Sally told him. "This fellow is suffering from post-traumatic stress. It's serious."

  Craig acknowledged her comment with a nod. "How long ago did he leave?"

  "It was about quarter of an hour before you arrived," she replied. "He tried making a phone call, which I believe was meant to detonate one of the bombs he's placed around the city. His phone lost connection, and the landline didn't work either. He went into a rage before leaving me here."

  Craig went back towards the smashed door's remains and found the door handle. He placed his fingers upon it for a moment, and stood up again after a moment, shaking his head. "Nothing. I was hoping to have a clue."

  At that moment, Jiemba the Aboriginal Elder's spirit walked up the stairs and along the hallway. He poked his head in the door, looked at the mess and shook his head. "What a mess! Hey, Bunji," he said to Craig who turned around. "Didn't you hear me calling you? You won't find him here. He left some time ago."

  Brianna had heard Jiemba and Craig talking and came to see who Craig was talking to, but saw no one. "Who are you talking to?"

  Jiemba looked at Brianna, eyed her up and down. "You white women shouldn't be made up for war like that, you know?" He turned back to Craig to say more but Brianna interrupted.

  "Who the hell is that?"

  Craig shushed her and Jiemba laughed. "Yeah, mate. Sometimes you just have to tell them that."

  Jiemba's teeth flashed white as he grinned. "Listen, Bunji, the man you seek with the tortured spirit, he's heading to Karri Point. He's carrying thunder stick with him."

  "Thanks, mate," Craig said and looked back towards Brianna. "Well, don't just stand there. You heard the man. Let's go!"

  Emily and Brianna followed after Craig who was already running down the stairs. Jiemba hung back for a moment and stepped inside to have a look around the unit. "That's the trouble with all these white folk," he muttered to himself. "Always in a bloody hurry and they wonder why they miss so much in life. Lucky for them Jiemba could point them in the right way, eh? Damn, what a bloody mess this place is!"

  Chapter 31

  Brianna held on tight as Craig pushed the Jaguar through its paces, the police light flashing red and blue from its position on the car's roof. She couldn't help notice how focused he was on the drive, and his determined look. Somehow, she felt that he wanted to take out his adopted daughter's death on Joseph, even though Joseph's brother's spirit was the real culprit. She asked him who belonged to the other voice.

  "That was another spirit," Emily responded when Craig failed to answer. "He's one of the Indigenous people who used to live here."

  "Oh," Brianna mouthed. "I thought you were the only spirit I could hear."

  "You can hear all of us if you really want to, dear," Emily told her. "The spirits are almost everywhere. You just have to open yourself to them, and maybe you will be able to see us too."

  The detective was about to ask something when she saw something ahead. She placed her hand on Craig's arm, pointing with her other hand to a vehicle parked on the grassed area. "Wait a second, Craig. Stop here."

  Craig swerved the car and stopped, shining the Jaguar's headlights upon the beaten up old van. Brianna unlocked her seatbelt, opened the car door and stepped out towards the Suzuki. She turned towards the psychic, but he was already there and placing his hands on the driver's door. He waited a moment and Brianna couldn't help notice the worn look the shadows from the headlights gave his eyes. She wanted to say something but now was not the time. He needed rest but there was no stopping him now.

  Craig looked up, turned his head, and started running towards the brightly lit Story Bridge. "Come on!"

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG climb to the top of the bridge. First, he had to pass the locked gate, but that was no big deal. The hammer in his bag helped him bash that away after just three hits, leaving the mangled lock as debris on the ground. Then he had to walk up the stairs. Damn, that was work. The cold winter wind blowing him and the inevitable light-headedness of the slight vertigo made him think he wanted to fall. But, he didn't. After what seemed like hours, but was only fifteen minutes, he managed to reach a position near the top of the bridge's structure. He was able to see through railings towards the road below, and the riflescope was good enough to let him see them illuminated by the bridge's lights. He just had to bide his time now and wait.

  Joseph peered through his riflescope, slowly rotating the weapon as he focused on the people below. He watched one young woman with beautiful blonde hair, blue eyes and a fake tan, as she drove. Her hand moved towards her mobile phone and she looked at its display. Was that a look of disappointment on her face? He knew the mobile service wasn't working right now, and he knew he wasn't the only one affected. Yet these people still felt compelled by their addictions to play with their toys while driving. Don't they know a car is just a guided missile on wheels? Take away the driver's concentration, the missile's guidance, you have a runaway missile that can kill.

  He steadied his finger on the trigger and took a breath.

  Well, he decided. If they want to be in a runaway missile, I'm going to grant it.

  Mobile signal or no signal. They were still trying to use their phones, allowing themselves to be distracted.

  He noted the partially revealed breast of the blonde, aimed for the turquoise pendant in her valley, exhaled a gentle stream, and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 32

  The sickening crunch of vehicles, accompanied by squealing brakes and more car collisions, shocked both Craig and Brianna. They paused slightly in their running, took another breath, and hurried faster towards the bridge. Someone screamed and a few shouts rang out through the night.

  By the time they both reached the bridge, traffic had jammed in a pile-up of cars and trucks, along the southbound lanes and stopped all movement. Craig saw the hole in a windscreen and then the victim behind the wheel. Blood had spattered through the car's interior, and another curtain of red passed over Craig's eyes that sparked a furious vengeance inside him.

  Spinning around, Craig's eyes searched about for any sign of the sniper. Then his gaze fell upon the smashed padlock at his feet. Brianna looked about and saw the nearby gate.

  "Over there," she shouted. "He's gone up those stairs."

  "Call for backup," Craig called back to her, as he ran towards t
hem with Emily just behind him.

  Brianna reached for her phone out of reflex and groaned as she realised the mobile towers weren't working, anyway. They had no way of calling for backup. There wasn't even a payphone nearby since Telstra had been shutting most of them down over the past ten or so years. They didn't see the need with the mobile network so readily available to the public; and who would think the network would fall down?

  She hurried after Craig, looking ahead in the mixture of darkness and shadows cast through the bridge's structures by its lights.

  Chapter 33

  A numbing, yet comfortable, blankness filled Joseph's mind. It was as though he was in the zone. His finger poised as he watched the woman in his scope. She looked as though she was talking to someone else in the car. He looked towards the front passenger's seat, saw it was empty, and then peered to see if it was someone in the back-seat. But he couldn't see anyone there either. The woman must be shouting at the traffic, he decided and wondered if perhaps she didn't know what was happening. He panned the scope, settling upon another car's occupants, and saw the next car had a family inside. No. He couldn't take that one, even if they looked like Muslims; he had no quarrel with them and they appeared harmless. Then Joseph saw just the right one; it was some young man in a flashy suit, his shaved head's dark skin reflecting one of the streetlights. He was shouting into the phone, maybe having an argument, with his other hand gesticulating as he did. His mouth, containing pearly white teeth, opened wide with every syllable he pushed out as though he were ramming the words through the phone at the other person. Joseph though he must have been a liar or at least his argument had no legs to stand on. Some people, especially preachers, seem to shout louder when their points are weak, he thought to himself. And, this man was one of them.

  "Bye bye, baby boy," Joseph whispered to himself, stroking the trigger ever so slightly as he allowed himself to zone in on the target's forehead, just above the eye line.