Dylan shook his head.
A strange tapping sound came from the walls.
He glanced at Dylan, who had his lips pressed tightly together. If he was afraid he didn’t say so.
It took several minutes to reach the top floor. The doors opened automatically and Jock was about to step out when Dylan grabbed his arm.
“Watch out!”
Without warning, the lift plunged downwards with the doors still open, gaining momentum as it went.
“Brace yourself!” Dylan warned.
They threw themselves to the floor and lay there as the lift plunged down. They hit the bottom with a thump.
“Alright?” Dylan asked.
“Alright.” Jock said, feeling a bit shaky.
Dylan pulled himself to his feet with the elegance of a cat and Jock scrambled up after him and shone his light into the corridor.
“What is that?”
There was something wet and bloody on the floor.
“It looks like a severed paw.”
“Don’t touch it!” Jock begged, as Dylan inspected it. “Dylan!”
“Alright! Keep your knickers on!” Dylan kicked the offending article out of the way.
Jock looked about. “There’s no one here. Let’s go.”
“But we haven’t found Simon yet!”
Jock shuddered. “This place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I think it’s supposed to. That’s how they keep people out.”
“They?”
“Well, it can’t just be Simon, can it? He doesn’t exactly blend into the crowd.”
They took a quick look around the corridor then returned to the lift. The doors opened immediately, almost as if it had been waiting for them. Dylan pressed the button and they plummeted downwards.
“Hang on!”
Jock felt as if the lining had come out of his stomach as they dropped and dropped. They hit the bottom with a thump and the doors flew open. He shone his light along the corridor.
“Shall we take a look?” Dylan asked.
“I thought we were going to be methodical and work our way down from the top?”
“I think the lift has other ideas.”
Jock shone his light around in the darkness. There were some impressively long cobwebs that stretched all the way along the wall.
“There’s no one here.”
“Doesn’t look like it, no.”
“Look!” said Jock, shining his light along the far wall.
There was a clear imprint of a hand in the thick grimy dust.
“It’s too small to be Simon’s,” Dylan said.
“How long does a print stay on a wall like that?” Jock asked.
“Wish I knew. What is that vile smell?”
Jock covered his mouth with a hanky. “Look, a door.”
He pushed it gently and it swung open. Jock shone his light into the room. It looked empty, but on the top step sat a tray containing a cup and saucer. Dylan bent down and touched the cup.
“It’s still warm.”
Fear hung in the air. The dog growled and smacked its lips. Sapphire curled herself into the smallest possible ball and listened to the padding of unclipped nails on the vinyl floor. Vital seconds ticked by as she held her position, too tense to move. When she looked up, she saw Ingrid lying on the floor. The dog stood over her, prodding her with its paws. Ingrid screamed as it sank its rancid teeth into her neck. The strangest thing, the thing she would always remember, was the lack of barking. She had never known a dog not to bark before, but this vicious, angry dog hadn’t barked once.
She grabbed the lid off the bin and threw it at the dog, aiming to knock it off balance. The dog released its grip on Ingrid. Its body went straight and stiff, with its head, shoulders and hips aligned. It bared its teeth. Ever so carefully, Sapphire reached down and pulled off her right shoe. She held it in her hand, waiting for the dog to pounce.
“Don’t come any closer!” she warned. “Don’t make me do this!”
The dog lunged at her and she shoved the shoe into its mouth. With her other hand, she peeled off her dress and threw it over the dog’s head. It pawed at the material, trying to fight its way out. She knew it wouldn’t hold it for long.
She sped down the corridor, shivering in her petticoat. She was weak and tired, but she knew she had to keep her legs pumping. If she stopped even for a moment, the dog would have her. The corridor was in darkness. She felt along the wall with her hands. She could hear the dog panting somewhere behind her, scratching the floor with its feet. She rounded the corner and smacked into a wall. She had come to a dead end. There was no way out.
Slowly, she looked up. The moon shone down on the dog’s face, making its teeth look even more horrific than before. It grinned, menacingly. She hit out at it, kicking it with her feet and shoving it with her fists. But her efforts only stoked its anger.
“Down!” she commanded. “Down!”
The dog sank its teeth into her arm then let go, only to grab hold of her chest. It pulled her across the floor, dragging her weak, pathetic body towards the lift.
33
“Stop!” It took her a moment to register the voice as Claire’s.
The dog froze.
“Heel!”
With one last growl, the dog let go. Sapphire watched as it trotted over to Claire and settled at her feet.
“How did you do that?” she gasped. She was shocked that the dog had taken any notice. It had seemed so feral.
“Good girl, Petunia,” Claire said, feeding the dog a piece of dried liver. “Good job I saved some treats, eh? Don’t worry, I’ll shut her in my room.”
Sapphire nodded mutely. Why hadn’t Claire locked the dogs away in the first place? Was she still in two minds about letting them go? She watched as Claire took the dog by the collar and walked towards the lift.
“Please, don’t leave me!” she pleaded. “I’m so weak and Ingrid’s hurt, too.”
Claire looked at her a little oddly. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “Just wait here.”
They disappeared into the lift and the doors closed behind them. Sapphire ran her hands over her wounded body. Her chest was wet with blood and it hurt to breathe. Her arm was bleeding, too, but she had nothing to dress the wounds with. She leaned back against the wall and waited. Precious minutes ticked by and Claire did not return. What was taking so long?
Gingerly, she clambered to her feet. “Ingrid?” she called down the corridor. “You can come out now.”
But Ingrid didn’t reply and she didn’t dare call any louder. Instead, she inched her way back towards the kitchen.
“Ingrid?” she called again.
She moved as fast as she could, still clutching her bleeding chest. Ingrid lay face down in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“Oh God!” Sapphire knelt down beside her. There was blood everywhere – hers and Ingrid’s. She had thought her chest hurt before, but now the ache in her heart was so raw it was unbearable. She felt desperately for a pulse, but there was none. Tears streamed down her face. “Come on!” she sobbed. “I need you! We’re going to get out of here together, remember? You promised.”
For several minutes, she alternated between chest compressions and breathing into Ingrid’s mouth. She couldn’t remember how many to do of each, but she just kept going until she could do no more. In her heart, she knew Ingrid wasn’t coming back, but to accept that was to accept defeat. Ingrid was her friend, her dearest friend. What would she do without her?
“I thought I heard voices!”
Sapphire looked up. A veiled figure stood over her, surveying the damage. “What a mess!”
A gloved hand poked at her wound.
She opened her mouth to scream but managed to stop herself. She knew the May Queen Killer would relish her pain. She needed to stay strong, but she didn’t have the energy to fight. There didn’t seem much point now. Ingrid was gone. Their dream of getting out together was gone.
The May Que
en Killer grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her to her feet, causing fresh blood to spurt from her chest and neck.
“Get off me!” she spat, unable to take her eyes off Ingrid. “I’m not going back to that cellar.”
“No, you’re not. I have something much better in mind.”
She was barely conscious as the May Queen Killer heaved open the door to a large walk-in cupboard and threw her in.
The harsh fluorescent light made her want to puke. After so many days in the dimly lit cellar, she couldn’t take such bright lighting. It was only when she uncovered her eyes that she saw that she was not alone. Fizz and Harmony lay side by side on the floor. She tried not to stare at the shackles they wore round their ankles and the chains that connected them to the ceiling. Why hadn’t she been chained up with them, she wondered, or was it just a matter of time?
“Are you badly hurt?” Harmony asked.
Sapphire looked down at her wounds. She felt a jolt of pain with every breath, but it no longer seemed to matter.
“No,” she lied. “I’m just tired. Are you OK?”
Harmony pulled the hair away from her face to reveal a gaping wound.
“Oh my God!” Sapphire shrieked. “Your ear!”
“They said they would let me go,” Harmony sobbed. “I don’t know why I believed them.”
Sapphire reached for her and hugged her as tight as her wounded chest would allow. “I’m so sorry. I should never have left you.”
“At least we’re together again,” Harmony said with false cheer. “And this is better than the cellar, isn’t it?”
Sapphire looked around. The cupboard was a lot bigger than it had looked from the outside. It was about the size of her old garden shed. “Does that light stay on all the time?” she asked, twisting to avoid its glare.
“Seems to,” said Fizz, reaching down to adjust her shackles. She looked Sapphire in the eye. “What do you think’s going to happen to us?”
Sapphire took her hand. “I think it’s best not to think about it.”
Like the cellar, there were no windows in this room. The brightness came from an overhead light. She wondered if the light had been installed specifically to torture them. It was such an odd sort of a room; it was difficult to imagine what it would have been used for ordinarily. It looked a bit like a cave she had once explored, with weird formations hanging from the walls and ceiling. And yet this place was clearly man-made. It had the distinctive pong of meat. Once, she guessed, whole carcasses might have hung down from the ceiling. That would explain the hooks that dangled like sinister coat hangers. And the patches of red on the floor.
Tears streamed down her face – hot, salty tears that seemed to defy gravity, sticking to her face rather than falling down to the ground. She had been so close. Claire had given them a chance, more than a chance. She should have jumped through the window, no matter how high it was. She should have made Ingrid jump, too. They should have taken their chances in the murky waters of the canal. Anything would be better than this.
The door opened and a warm breeze blew in. Harmony screamed as Ingrid’s lifeless body was hauled into the room. Sapphire felt the bile rise up in her throat as she saw her. Her skin was already blue. The door slammed shut again and Harmony fell to Ingrid’s side, searching urgently for a pulse. She attempted to breathe life back into her, just as Sapphire had done, but Ingrid didn’t breathe and her heart refused to start. She had been gone too long.
“Why, God?” Harmony wailed, clutching Ingrid’s hand.
Sapphire rocked herself back and forth. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted someone to turn out the light.
A big brown rat shot out from nowhere. It headed straight for Ingrid’s body. Angrily, Sapphire shooed it away.
“Oh, Ingrid!”
She closed her tired eyes and leaned back against the wall.
“Sapphire? You have to wake up. You can’t go to sleep in here,” said Fizz.
She rubbed her eyes.
“Sapphire, listen to me! You need to stay awake.”
“What are you talking about?” she murmured. “Just let me sleep will you? Just let me sleep.”
Jock shone his torch down into the cellar. “Nobody down there,” he confirmed.
But there had been, hadn’t there?
The cellar looked empty, aside from a couple of blankets. Dylan went down and had a look around, but Jock remained in the doorway. The thought of going down there was just too creepy to conceive of. Was this where Sapphire had been all this time? And if so, where was she now?
“I think I can hear something,” he called out to Dylan, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“What is it?”
“The lift’s moving. Someone must have called it.”
“Not necessarily. That lift does what it likes.”
“I don’t like this. I think we should get out of here.”
Dylan came back up to the top and pressed the button, but nothing happened.
“It’s broken,” he said.
“Chill,” said Dylan. He jabbed the button himself, but it still didn’t respond. “Maybe it needs a rest,” he suggested.
“What do we do?”
“We wait.”
Jock fiddled with a loose thread on the sleeve of his fleece. He wished he had worn something warmer.
The creaking started again.
“Thank God!” Jock said. The doors opened and he flung himself inside. “Come on!” he called to Dylan. He didn’t like being alone in there.
Dylan got in and the lift slowly began to climb. And then, without warning, it stopped.
“Not again!” Dylan muttered.
The doors opened about halfway between one floor and the next.
“What do we do?” Jock asked. “Should we get out?”
Dylan folded his arms. “You know all those accidents you hear of? People falling to their death down lift shafts?”
He nodded.
“Well, most of those were people who climbed out of the lift. The thing to do is wait. The lift will start up again eventually.”
“But what if it doesn’t? Nobody even knows we’re here.”
“I think we can afford to wait a little longer, don’t you?”
“Hey, what’s that?”
“What?”
“I thought I heard a rumbling in the distance – a kind of scampering sound.”
“Oh, Lord!”
A dog loomed into sight. Its eyes were large and hungry. Blood dripped from its mouth.
“Do something!” Jock shrieked.
“I’m trying!” Dylan jabbed the buttons, but nothing happened.
“We’re stuck!”
Jock pressed himself against the wall while Dylan tried to out-stare the dog. The dog snarled and Jock moved further back. But Dylan was not afraid. As Jock watched, he took a running jump at the dog, missed and fell awkwardly against the door.
“Dylan!”
The dog pounced, clamping its jaws around Dylan’s head.
“Oh my God! Stop! Stop!”
Jock watched in horror as it hauled Dylan out of the lift and into the dimly lit corridor.
“Oh hell!”
He had no idea what to do. If he pressed the button, there was a chance the doors would shut and carry him away to safety. But if he did that, he would be leaving Dylan to the mercy of the dog.
He glanced into the corridor. There was a curtain hanging just above the dog’s head. If he yanked it down, he might be able to use it to confuse it for a moment and if he could pull down the pole it hung from, he would have a weapon. He had never wielded a weapon before in his life. But there was a first time for everything.
“I can do this,” he told himself, as he crawled out of the lift. He reached up for the curtain, but just as his fingers closed around the dusty fabric, the light flickered inside the lift. The blood rushed to his ears as he realised the doors were about to close. He couldn’t let that happen; he would be trapped here with D
ylan and the dog. He moved back and placed his foot in the lift. But he didn’t like the way the doors pushed against him, as if they were trying to crush his leg. He looked again at Dylan, still trapped by the angry dog. He had to make a decision. He could jump back into the relative safety of the lift or he could stay and help his friend.
“Help!” Dylan’s voice sounded weak and confused.
Jock forced the lift doors apart and flung himself inside.
“Don’t leave me!” Dylan choked.
“I’ll get help!” he promised, as the doors closed behind him. And the lift took off, leaving Dylan to his fate. He leaned against the metal wall and the coldness made him shiver. What had he done?
34
I walk from room to room, furious with myself for thinking Claire deserved my trust. The warehouse is a labyrinth of dodgy floors and broken machinery and there are many dark corners to hide in. But the lift is the only way to travel between floors. To control the lift is to control it all.
I watch the digital display as it counts down the progress of the lift from the fourth floor. Three, two … Then the doors open and Claire gets out.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I demand.
She shrinks back behind Petunia, who regards me with suspicion. I hold out a biscuit and the dog snaffles it up, but she doesn’t take her sad, brown eyes off me and as soon as she’s swallowed the treat, she whimpers for more. I throw a second one down and she glances at Claire before she eats it, as if to ask permission.
“It’s OK,” Claire tells her.
Petunia continues to watch me as she chews. She is supposed to be my dog. They all are, but Claire is the one who feeds them and walks them around the warehouse. She’s the one who is with them all day. She could turn those dogs against me, if she chose. That’s why I’m giving them to Evan. Of course, a large weighted sack would do the trick just as well, but I’ve always had a soft spot for dogs.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I ask Claire, angrily.
“It’s over,” she replies. “It’s time to leave.”
The Perfect Girl Page 25
