Soul

by Dave Blackwell

  “How much is there?” Jon demanded.

  “Loads.” Martin said reluctantly.

  “Wasn’t speaking to you.” Jon responded bluntly. “Be quiet.” He was harsh. “I was talking to you.” He pointed the gun towards Catherine.

  “Five thousand.” Catherine said.

  Jon scoffed.

  “Five thousand?” He was confused and looked up at Martin. “You said there was a lot more than that!” He shouted. “Did you lie?!”

  “No!” Martin panicked. “I don’t lie!” Tears welled in his eyes.

  “It was banked.” Catherine said. “My accountant banked it at the beginning of the week.”

  Jon grunted in annoyance and rested the handle of the gun against his forehead.

  There was a long silence as Catherine looked at Martin and he gave her a confused grin, she understood and smiled at him, shaking her head at him not to worry.

  “Jon.” Martin said.

  Martin stood with his eyes closed, breathing deeply.

  “Jon?” Martin said more urgently.

  “What?!” Jon’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at Martin. “What do you want?!” He snarled.

  Martin groaned and looked down at his feet, rocking back and forth.

  “Martin?!” Jon shouted. “Don’t do that shit.”

  Martin continued to rock back and forth.

  “Martin.” Catherine said softly. “Calm down.” She smiled at him. “Go and get the money for Jon.”

  She looked at Jon who nodded in agreement.

  “Get it.” Jon said bitterly.

  Martin turned and broke into a run. Jon looked up as he disappeared and then looked back at Catherine, the gun still trained on her.

  “What happens now.” She asked him. “Are you going to kill me?”

  The question threw Jon and his mind when blank.

  “What?” He asked her.

  “Are you going to shoot me?” Catherine asked.

  “No.” Jon said in discomfort. “I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  Catherine laughed softly.

  “What?” Jon wanted to know why she was laughing.

  “You have a gun in my face.” Catherine held up her hand. “Is it even real?” She took a step towards him.

  “Yes!” He snapped. “Just stay where you are, and you won’t get hurt.” Jon lowered the gun and then raised it nervously.

  “Take the money and go.” Catherine said. “If Martin had asked me for help, I would have been happy to help him out.” She explained. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” Jon said.

  “Never know until you ask.” Catherine smiled.

  “Are you going to report us?” Jon asked.

  “No.” Catherine shook her head.

  “Why?” Jon refused to believe her.

  “I believe in giving people a second chance.” Catherine crossed her arms and shivered. “We all make mistakes in life and we all deserve to be forgiven.” Catherine explained.

  “What about your butler.” Jon said.

  “My butler?” Catherine asked in confusion. “Do you mean Jackson?” She smiled.

  “Yeah the stocky guy who left earlier.” Jon muttered.

  “He is my personal assistant. He and his wife help me out around the house and my business matters.” Catherine explained. “He won’t be an issue.”

  “Won’t he ask about the money?” Jon wanted to know. “Seeing as he probably knows it is there.”

  “No.” Catherine shook her head. “If he does then I will tell him I gave it away to charity.”

  “He won’t believe that.” Jon sneered.

  “He will. I gave the same away to a start-up group a few months back.” Catherine laughed. “He was livid but knows that the money is mine to do with as I please.”

  Martin walked to the top of the stairs holding wads of notes in his hands.

  “Got it.” Martin said loudly and held the money out.

  “Well done.” Jon said in sarcasm. “Get down here.”

  Martin made his way down the stairs, carefully holding the money and taking it stair carefully. He glanced at Catherine and smiled nervously. He stood next to Jon, holding the money like a new-born child.

  “Got your money.” Martin giggled and smiled at Jon.

  “Yes, I know.” Jon replied and shook his head in annoyance.

  “You have got what you wanted.” Catherine said. “Leave now and never come back. This didn’t happen.”

  “Oh, I want to come back and see you Miss Catherine.” Martin complained. “I like coming here.”

  “Be quiet Martin.” Jon scolded him.

  “You need to go.” Catherine said, her expression that as if she were telling off a naughty child.

  He looked back at her in confusion, shaking his head.

  “You need to do what Jon tells you now.” Catherine told him.

  “No.” Martins words became angry. “I want to come back.”

  Martin turned to Jon and put the money to his chest causing him to grab hold of it awkwardly.

  “Martin stop!” he snapped. “What are you doing?!”

  Martin dumped money against Jon and pushed him slightly. Jon struggled and tried to balance the bundle against his chest, losing his grip on the revolver. He tried to grab it, fumbling as it slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor.

  Catherine took a couple of slow steps towards Martin to try and calm him down. She wanted this to be over and done with, to get back to her bath and then her bed. To forget the evening ever happened and start afresh the next day.

  Everything went in slow motion as Jon watched the revolver fall to the floor, the barrel facing towards Catherine as it hit the floor and a deafening blast echoed around the room as the revolver fired. The bullet skimmed Martins jacket as he recoiled in shock and covered his ears, dropping to the floor and cowering. The revolver fell to the side and spun, a gentle wisp of smoke exiting from the barrel.

  Jon looked up at Catherine and the money dropped from his hands.

  “Shit.” His mouth dropped.

  Martin looked down at the revolver and then up at Jon, realising something was wrong he then looked at Catherine.

  “Miss Catherine!” He screamed in distress. “No!” He howled and scrambled on his hands and knees towards her.

  The bullet hit Catherine in the side of the neck. Her hand went to her neck when she felt the sharp pain followed by the cold numbness. The bullet passed through her neck and embedded into the door with a hollow crack.

  Catherine groaned and fell to her knees, holding onto her neck as blood erupted from the wound. Cold and numb she fell backward, her head cracking against the floor and her eyes rolling as her grip lessened on her neck.

  “No!” Martin howled and kneeled beside her. “What do I do?” He panicked. “Tell me what to do!” He begged her.

  Catherine shook her head and tried to speak, but she was weak and could feel her life slipping away from her. She wanted to tell him it would be ok. She wanted to reassure him that she was happy to let go and move on.

  Jon snapped back to his senses when Martins screams cut through his head. He bent down and grabbed the revolver, putting it into his pocket and then grabbed a couple of wads of notes.

  “Martin.” He shouted. “We need to go.”

  “Miss Catherine needs help!” He cried. “Please help!” He groaned.

  “Do you want to go to prison forever?” Jon ran up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need to go mate.” He tried to encourage him.

  Martin moaned and cried, tears streaming down his face.

  “Go.” Catherine groaned. “Go……Now. Martin.” She forced a smile and nodded at him.

  Jon walked backward.

  “I am sorry.” He said to Catherine.

  She nodded. She knew it was an accident and she wasn’t afraid to die. She never wanted to go this way, but she knew that nothing ever went to plan.

  “Martin!�
� Jon shouted.

  Martin got to his feet and reluctantly followed Jon as he made his way towards the kitchen. Martin turned and looked at Catherine, moaning with hesitation.

  Her white bathrobe had turned red with blood and a puddle had begun to form around her head. Her breathing slowed, and she was becoming paler by the second.

  “Goodbye.” Martin sadly and waved to her before running into the kitchen.

  Jon got to the back door in the kitchen and looked to Martin who was wiping the tears from his face.

  “I am sorry mate, but it was an accident. We need to go.” Jon said urgently. “Get in the car and this didn’t happen ok?”

  Martin nodded.

  “Do you understand?” He asked him.

  “Yes.” Martin said in a panic.

  Jon opened the door and stepped out.

  “Wait. My balaclava!” Martin said in urgency. “I left it upstairs!” Martin ran off.

  “Hurry!” Jon said and calmly made his way towards the car.

  The snow was still falling as he looked around, checking for anyone noticing. He was sure someone must have heard the gunshot. He looked behind himself towards the house, looking out for Martin but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “What the hell is taking you so long?” He said to himself. The street was quiet, other than the sounds of the rustling trees. The snow gently crunching beneath his weight.

  He crossed the road without looking and reached into his pocket for the keys. Shoving the money into each pocket he then unlocking the car, reaching over he cleared the snow from the windshield as much as he could and then opened the door and got inside. Getting comfortable in the seat he then turned the ignition.

  The engine failed to start.

  “Oh, come on.” He grunted in annoyance and kicked the bottom of the footwell. After a few seconds he turned the ignition again.

  The engine turned over weakly before roaring into life.

  “Thank you!” He snapped.

  He looked at the clock on the dashboard, groaning when he realised it was wrong. He looked towards the house for any sign of movement.

  “Come on Martin!” His voice was urgent as he looked around for signs that they had been noticed in some way.

  A dog barking caused Jon to gasp and look around frantically, the light outside the front of the house next door lit up. After a few seconds the front door slowly opened, and a large black Labrador ran out into the snow, playing in it and eating it. A young man walked out holding a lead in one hand and slammed the door behind him, he was wearing white trainers, black shorts and thick fleece. His short blonde hair was messy, almost as if he had just woken up. He was in his late teens, tall and stocky for his age.

  “Matty come here!” The young man called out. “Let me get your lead on and you can go nuts at the park!” He shouted as he pulled a beanie hat from his pocket and pulled it on, yawning deeply.

  Matty ran around and jumped up at the falling snow.

  “Matty come on!” The man called out. “Don’t make me come over there!” He didn’t know why he was arguing with the dog because it never took any notice of him. Matty was his sister’s dog, and he always did what she told him. Anyone else was ignored unless food was made available.

  The dog continued to ignore him.

  “Matty!” He growled. “Come here or you won’t be let off your lead.”

  Matty stopped and looked at the man, pacing down like he was about to run away.

  “I am not playing.” The man warned.

  Matty dropped on the spot, his head low and his butt high in the air, wiggling as his tail wagged furiously. Panting heavily as his tongue dipped in the snow. He turned his attention to the snow and took a greedy bite.

  “No don’t eat that you moron you will get brain freeze!” The man laughed, trying to keep a serious face. “Matty no!” He said sternly.

  Matty continued to bite at the clumps of snow, chewing it furiously and cocking his head in curiosity. The man groaned and slowly walked towards the dog, the dog sat down and just watched the man approaching him. The dog’s mouth open, the tongue hanging and steam rising as water trickled from his face.

  “Be a good boy and I’ll give you a treat.” The man said under his breath, chuckling as the dog let off a happy whine. “Thought you might like that.” The man smiled and bent down, taking hold of the dog by the collar and attaching the lead.

  The scream cut through the silence causing the man to look towards Catherine’s house, Matty yelped and panicked, breaking free from the man’s grip and running away. The scream, a mixture of agony and anguish became choked as it suddenly stopped, echoing down the street.

  Jon looked towards the house, his heart thumping in his chest and his eyes darting back and forth up and down the street. Grinding the gears in a struggle, he slammed into first and pulled away. The car spun before gaining traction and he took off as fast as he possibly could, not looking back.

  “Matty!” The man called out, watching as the dog took off, running around the car and into the bushes. “Matty?” The boy wondered what had spooked the dog. He had never known him to get spooked. He then turned his attention back to the house. “What the hell?”

  The boy ran up to the steps of his house and opened the door, leaning in.

  “Mum call the police and ambulance, something has happened next door!” He yelled. “Hurry. I am going to go around and see if I can help.” He then broke into a run, jumping over the small wall which separated the two houses and landed, slipping in the snow and falling to his front. Groaning he got to his feet and ran up the steps, pounding on the front door.

  “Catherine it’s Simon!” He yelled. “Are you ok?” He ran down the steps, looking up towards the upstairs windows for any signs or light or movement. “Jackson!” He called out, then realising that Jackson was not at home. He ran back up to the steps and got to his knees, looking through the letterbox.

  He saw Martin laying by the stairs and the floor covered in blood, his eyes wide and his expression frozen in fear. Catherine was nowhere to be seen.

  “Catherine!?” He yelled through the letterbox. “I am coming in.” He got to his feet and stepped down to the bottom of the steps. “I hope you haven’t bolted this door.” He said and ran at the door.

  Simons' shoulder contacted the door, and with a splinter the latch broke off. The door flew open and slammed against the wall. Simon fell heavily to the floor, yelling out in agony when his shoulder cracked against the floor. He lay on the spot, winded and trying to catch his breath. After a few moments, he rolled onto his front and got to his knees, holding his shoulder.

  “Catherine?” He called out. “Are you here?”

  There was no answer.

  Simon slowly backed away, he didn’t want to venture further for the fear of damaging the crime scene but also the worry of anyone still inside that could harm him. He slowly stepped backward, not taking his eyes off the body of Martin.

  “Mum someone is dead!” He said quietly. Standing at the bottom of the stairs he turned to his house and shouted. “Mum!” He turned and ran to the house, leaping over the wall and pushing the door open as he ran through.

  TWO

  Sophie was sat up in bed, a fleece blanket wrapped around her tightly as she looked out of the window at the falling snow. The double room was a perfect square, pink walls, white ceiling and thick purple carpet. The single pine bed was against the wall, right in the centre of the room, draped in a pink duvet and two pillows to match. On the right side of the bed was a small bedside cabinet with a desk lamp on it. To the left of the bed was a door leading to the hall, on the back of the door were dozens of photographs stuck to it. To the right of the room were a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a desk all in pine. Next to the desk was a box filled with various toys. A laptop sat on the desk, open with a screen saver active of a ball bouncing around. A cork notice board was mounted behind the desk with various papers, photographs and pictures stuck to it. It hung in an angle and lo
oked like it was about to fall off the wall.

  At the base of the window was another single pine bed with a mattress still in the plastic. The white blind was open and moving slightly against the gentle wind of the partially open window.

  Sophie was ten years old, average height and slim, blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and very pale skin. She looked at the woman lying on the bed with her back to her, wearing a grey fleece and blue jeans. Her long black hair messy and covering her face.

  Sophie had woken from a bad dream in a panic before realising she was safe, she noticed Marie in the bed next to her and remembered that she had sat with her because she was afraid to be alone. She had gotten up and opened the blind so she could watch the snow fall, she found it pretty and relaxing. She had got too hot and opened the window slightly, only to feel cold shortly after. She carefully got back into the bed with fleece blanket she had been given at the hospital. It was the size of a beach towel, extra thick with a picture of a wolf against the moon. One of the volunteers at the hospital had given it to her when she found out that Sophie loved them and needed something to cheer her up. She held it close to her, feeling the softness and the new smell.

  She looked to the bedside cabinet at the mobile phone which was flashing, the mobile phone was on silent and a call came through causing the display to flash intermittently.

  Sophie sighed in frustration and with hesitation she tapped Marie on the shoulder gently.

  Marie moaned but continued to sleep.

  Sophie huffed and tapped her again, harder.

  Marie slowly sat up and then turned around, confused and mumbling. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Sophie in worry,

  “Oh god. Are you ok?” She said, gently getting hold of Sophie by the shoulder who smiled and nodded. “Sorry I forgot to sign.” Marie then signed to Sophie, repeating what she had said.

  “I am fine.” Sophie signed, mouthing her words. Sophie is profoundly deaf and communicated in sign language. She doesn’t use her voice when she speaks, preferring to mouth her words. “I woke up and couldn’t sleep.” She pointed to the window. “Watching the snow.”

  Marie sighed and sat leaned against the headboard, looking outside at the snow.