“Why not?”
“Oh, for crying out loud” it’s Jane, and she tears the paper from my hand and looks down at it. “I mean, where do we start? Erm, let’s see? One tenth of an ounce of unicorn’s horn. I mean…”
“Yes, or 25ml of vampire’s blood” Ruth adds.
“Well, let’s stick to the unicorn for the moment” Jane says quickly.
“And the problem is?” I ask.
“Well, John, the problem is that, if you hadn’t noticed, unicorns don’t exist. And if you think I’m going to sleep with you until we’ve resolved this, forget it” she adds, pushing my hand away. At least she doesn’t try to break it again.
“You’re wrong. Of course they exist. They are, I admit, incredibly rare. From what we know, only seven exist in the world” I reply. “Or perhaps, six, now” I add, thoughtfully.
They both stare at me, so I continue.
“What, just because you’ve never seen one you assume they don’t exist?”
“So…” starts Jane. Then she stops.
“So… “ starts Ruth, “the detective wasn’t lying?” I nod.
“The detective?” asks Jane.
“A while back, when we were at John’s apartment, this detective, you know, Detective Carver, said that they had found a unicorn’s horn…”
“And you thought not to tell me this, in your report?” Jane asks, icily.
“Oh, don’t start, Miss Naked” snaps back Ruth. Okay, that was interesting.
“Anyway” I say slowly, “yes, that’s right. But that is really worrying.”
“What is? That she’s always naked?”
“Erm, no, that they found a whole horn” I reply, carefully.
They both stop, and regard me.
“Why?” asks Jane.
“No, of course, you don’t know, do you? Unicorns are immortal. Taking their horn away is the only way that they will die. It’s almost impossible.” And then I add, into the silence, “almost."
“But someone did it” replies Ruth.
“It would seem so."
“And, stupid question, but they took the horn away because?”
“Because, Jane, it is so powerful. I mean” I say, turning to Ruth, “you’ve seen what can be done with some of that energy, just a tiny bit, haven’t you. Imagine the power multiplied a million… no, that’s nothing like it, you imagine, something that’s been there for thousands, millions of years, I mean, no, you can’t even imagine, it’s just insane, what can be done with that. I mean, God, I don’t know."
“And this wasn’t you? This wasn’t Hart Industries?”
“No way” I reply. “It’s completely way out, it’s a complete transgression, totally against the rules."
“Okay, I’m going to regret asking, but the rules? Are we talking some kind of ancient, secret society and pact, all that sort of stuff?”
“No, well, no, not exactly. Well, yes” I reply. “But, forget it, you don’t need to know, in fact, you don’t need to know any of this. All you need to know is how to make it, that was the deal. And then, I’m out of here.”
“But…” starts Ruth, “if someone is doing this, if they have just killed a unicorn and have this immense power, it’s got to be for a reason, right?” her voice is questioning.
“Good deduction” and I wink at her.
“And…” she pauses, “and, if you’ve pushed the world to the brink of nuclear war with what you’ve done, and that’s nothing compared to this, then…”
“How is the war, by the way?” I turn to Jane and ask this, my voice light and high.
“Well,” she starts, and shivers, maybe because she’s naked and it suddenly seems to have got cold in here, “well, the Chinese seem to have suddenly pulled back, for some reason, we don’t understand why."
Ruth and I glance at each other; seems like Simon and Elena have been busy. Jane wraps her arms around herself, but makes no move to dress. Some kind of personal pride thing, I guess. But when she carries on, her tone is harsh.
“Listen. I know you don’t care, I get that. But you need to tell us who is doing this. We need to regain control and if something really bad is happening out there, I need to know who’s doing it. Then we’ll let you go. So long as you tell us how to find unicorns.”
“And vampires” Ruth adds.
“We already know about vampires” Jane snaps at her.
“We do?”
“Something else you haven’t shared?” I ask Jane.
“Shut up” they both say to me, simultaneously.
“I know who’s doing it” comes a deep, dark voice from somewhere.
***
“But he’s not sharing” comes a whispered voice from somewhere else. And then it disappears.
The room gets extremely cold, and suddenly is filled with white smoke. A man steps out of it, and gently lays a fur coat over Jane’s shoulders. I reach out to touch the fur, it is so smooth as to almost make me weep. It makes me long for the comfort of my car.
“Shhh” says the man, he brushes his hand over his face and his complexion changes, I understand something but I can’t quite articulate it, before I recognise who he now is.
“You” I whisper, and then he disappears and I am left staring into to the face of a small Chinese man, grinning wildly, a gun in his hand. It’s so cold now that I can’t even make out its model number.
“You’re coming with me” he hisses, and although Ruth reaches out to touch me, to save me, it’s too late, I am falling back into the swirling fog, my arms clasped around his waist.
Chapter 30
“Hey, it’s good to see you again man” Babybro shouts above the din, slapping me on the back, as we are whisked along. “We had fun last time, right?”
“What, when you tried to kill me, you mean?” I shout back.
“Yeah, man, but you know it wasn’t personal right?”
I laugh, and I feel sick, and then I am sick. “Sorry about that” I manage, but he just waves his hand, “this kinda travel kinda gets to you, man”.
“So, a bit of a falling out with the good lady, right?” he winks at me, and it takes me a moment to understand, “Oh, you mean Ruth? Well, she’s not my good lady, we were just having a drink together, and anyway she betrayed me."
“Ah, that’s a tough break, anyway, don’t worry, cos I rescued you."
With a bump, we land, back in a dark, featureless room, with some very strange looking seats at one end. Suspended above the seats are some sort of equipment, headgear, knives, axes, pins, all attached to levers, wires, pulleys, like some medieval torture room. The seats themselves are white, but stained, very stained with splatters of something dark. They each have straps attached to them, and the whole thing doesn’t leave an awful lot to the imagination.
“Erm, “ I start, “and when you say rescued, is that..."
“Hey man,” shrugs Babybro, “just doing my job, y’know?”
Now I’m strapped to the seat, the first on the left, the one with the least blood on it, and my head is held in some sort of clamping device. I hate pain. Just for the record. I struggle to deal with it.
“Now” starts Babybro, attaching electrodes to my ears. “These, my man” he says, grinning, his teeth absurdly large and absurdly white (funny, I had never noticed that before about him), “these are for the reversal procedure, just so we know that you, like, y’know, will feel everything, man” and then he turns to the equipment behind him and starts typing.
Of course they know how to reverse it. I told them. I steel myself, make sure that a smile appears on my face, and start “OK, now listen, my friend…”
He stops what he’s doing, turns and studies me, and his grin, if that’s possible, gets even wider “hey man! You’re gonna try and talk me outta this, right, man?” he slaps his leg and starts laughing. “Well, hey it’ll be good to hear, but just to be fair, I mean, just so you know, it’s not gonna work, I mean they, they were very insistent, y’know what I mean? I m
ean, you really…”
A buzzing behind him and he turns, picks up his phone “Yeah?”
Pause; “yeah, I know, yeah, ok…. Yeah, sorry, like well, it wasn’t my fault….no, not yet, no…nothing, no, ok, nothing, ok yeah, I’ll tell him, yeah…. Yeah, you too, look …. Yeah, no but please look…look……. Shit” and he throws the phone up in the air, waits for it to fall and kicks it across the grey, empty room.
He turns back to me, his eyes, his face is lost for a minute, and I realise I’m holding my breath, and then, “ah, shit, never mind” I can see him snap back into focus as he notices me and he comes across so that our faces are close, so close, I can feel his sour breath on me and I would recoil but I can’t because my head is tied tight, unable to move, staring straight ahead. And his frown becomes a grin as he says “right man, let’s start” and I’m saying “no but wait, the call…” and he just replies, “ah, but it was personal, don’t worry about it man” and he’s back at the controls and suddenly there’s a pain in my body that I just can’t describe, and I’m weeping, trying to at least, but my eyes are caught, they can’t move, but they can feel now the pressure building up behind them like a ball in my head, no, an explosion in my brain, the pressure on my eyes, oh no, I can’t move my hands, I can’t help, I can’t see but I can feel my eyes, explode, out of my head, I can feel the blood pour down my face, I can see the blackness and in the blackness I can see something, its there, its so dark, it’s coming, its approaching me, and oh no, oh God, I can’t look at it’s face, I can
and I’m gasping for breath and I can see again and his face is there, again, grinning and now when he speaks, spittle covers my face, he’s talking so fast “hey wasn’t that great!” he starts, “Whoo! Whoah man, what a ride, hey I love that bit, did you like it, I designed it myself, hey man, just think, we’re only just getting started!”
“Please…” I gasp
“Ooh!” he shrieks, “Please! Please sir, please stop, I’m not enjoying it anymore” he mimics, in a high pitched, squeaky voice, “please, please, please” then his voice changes, suddenly, a deep, dark growl “No! Torture you, then kill you, that’s what I’ve been told to do, that’s what I’ll do.” Now he sniffs, loudly, and suddenly, spits in my face. “So we may as well enjoy it” he finishes, more calmly, and returns to the console, starts tapping the keys. I can hear him humming to himself, a song, a tune, I’m sure I recognise, sitting somewhere, maybe a clue?
“Look, I can help, I know things” my voice comes out muffled, and painful, I can’t see my face, can hardly move it, my mouth feels dry, so dry like a dirty island, close to the sea but so far from it, I can taste the sand, taste the blood, “look, I can help you, I”
“No you can’t” he whispers, and touches the screen.
I’m back there and this time I can see it’s face, it’s there but I can’t describe it, can’t describe anything just the memory of it’s teeth ripping into my flesh, my tongue, gouging my face, my nose, my eyes until the sockets are hollow and I can feel the sweet scent of its bloody breath, it’s air flowing into my brain through what’s left, and then, it’s tongue, hot, sticky, touching, exploring, poking through my right eye socket, deeper, entering my brain, entering my thoughts, and I want to scream, I want to tear my hair out, tear my skull off, tear my brain out just to make it stop if only for one second, one millisecond, one part of hell, anything just for this to stop, oh God, oh Lord, please please please
And then it stops and I’m back. I can feel the sweat on my face, in my hair, soaking through my clothes, I can feel my heart beating so fast it’s trying to escape from my chest, I can feel my body shake, I can feel my skin crawl and my stomach retch, I can hear it breath, still, beyond the heartbeat in my ears, in my soul, I can see but I can’t see my vision is blurry it takes time, I can’t really understand and then I do and I stare in front of me to see his face, tormenting me but he’s not, he’s not there, I don’t know why, and it takes me a couple of seconds, a few minutes more, maybe an hour or two until my vision is clear and I can hear again, and when I do I understand that actually I am alone, in this room, that he has really left and of course I wonder if this is good or bad as the artificial light fades slowly and the greyness becomes deeper, deeper until it’s black and I’m left there, in the darkness, in the black, in the noiseless void, until of course I can’t resist anymore and the fear runs out of me, like an express train, like a rocket, and I shout, I scream, I shriek and I cry, and I cry and cry until I can’t anymore until a shroud of red touches the black until
“Shit, shit, shit”
And I notice he’s actually crying, maybe he’s feeling my pain, “shit shit shit” but the words echo through my head like a ball bouncing in the void that’s left there, and every time he says it, it goes bang, and it hurts
“What’m I gonna do, man?”
“Erm…” I start, my voice broken, and he looks up, surprised, as if he’s forgotten I’m there, and now he’s looking at me, like he’s imploring, and I have to get myself together, I can’t take another one, it’s just too much, come on, pull myself together, focus on one thing, just one thing, focus on my voice, don’t show the fear, and I spit and croak, it’s all I can do, I close my eyes and think of my mouth, my tongue, my voice, let it be ok, let me start, just focus
“Can I help”
My voice comes out high pitched and cracked, all at the same time, but it’s a start, recognisable nonetheless, and Babybro’s eyes lock with mine for a second, I can see them turn red, then blue, before going back to brown, and I know that I have a chance.
“You look worried” he’s still not sure but maybe I can make it, I spit on the ground, and twist my neck as much as I can, show that I am strong, perhaps he’ll not remember, and he’s starting to say something then he stops, and he turns, and punches the computer, well maybe that’s good, but he twists on me viciously.
“Shit man, shit, women, can you understand them, I mean, I give up, I gave her everything and still, I mean, still man, it’s not enough!"
And I laugh, I actually manage to laugh and say “yeah, bloody women right, what’s up?”
Babybro drags his chair over to me and rests his arms on his knees, looking at me, like he’s confiding in me. “Yeah man, I remember, you were with that broad, she was old, right? Old but sexy. Yeah, man” and he actually punches my shoulder in some misplaced gesture of friendship, “you did well there. Hey shit man, that’s the problem, my girl, right? She is sexy, beautiful, but hey man, what a bitch, right? Here, look at her” and he pulls out his wallet and shows me a picture, my eyes are still blurry and I can’t quite make it out, but I nod appreciatively, slowly but appreciatively, “she’s beautiful” I mumble. I’m really starting to struggle now and I hear myself say “shees boorifal” but I think he still gets it, he pats my arm and says “yeah, ain’t she, much better than yours” and he says this without a trace of sarcasm, or superiority (but I’m hardly in a position to start worrying about motivations)
“Wazza probeem" I manage, and he sighs, “well man, it’s crazy, but she’s got it into her head that I’m a bad man, that I do bad things, and now, man, she says, that’s wrong, that I can’t do that no more or else she’ll leave me. I mean, man, y’know, they like it all don't they, she wants it all right, she wants the kit, she wants the stuff, she wants to hang round, y’know, but, like man, well she won’t pay what it takes…”
“Sheet, thoz turf” I reply, I clear my throat, and start again, “in wez, yor din do bed fing, yor joz dor woz nezedrady."
He stops, and stares at me, “You’re right man, you’re dead right, I do what’s necessary, that’s all I do man, I mean, you…” and he’s looks at the cuts on my face and hands, the blackness of my eyes and he says “uh…” but we need to carry on, so I do, “dat's right, yuz hav to make the difficut dezdidons, I mean, yor an miz, weez OK rigt”
“Yeah man” he gets up and starts pacing around, “you and me we’re OK, you know it’s no
thing personal, you know I just have to torture you to get paid, to do my job, I mean…” and he stretches out towards me, “you know, we’re just having fun right, we’re all in this together aren’t we” and I nod, painful, as enthusiastically as I can manage. "Coors men!" I spit.
And then he pauses and wipes his eyes, “but she just don’t get it man! Maybe it’s that sect she’s joined, maybe it’s that bastard Hector, I’m gonna kill that bastard, I’m gonna f…”
“Hey, I’ve gort an ideer!” I shout (or croak, or squeal, I’m not sure which) “ I cud talk toor here. Mebez I cud tell herz I undoor stend, meberz I cord, then…”
“You’d do that? You’d do that for me?” his voice is so light, so full of emotion, “really man, you’d do that for me? God man, I love you ,that would be so great, you are just the best, I really love you man! You could tell her, you could say look Sharllen, I really understand, I really understand what you’re going through, but this here, you could say, this here, he’s my main man, he and I go back, and I know we’re having some tough times, but he really, I mean he really is caring, he really doesn’t want me to get hurt, I mean, you could add, he listens to me, we talk, I mean, he’s really sensitive, yeah, she’d like that, sensitive, and look although we’re here, I know, Sharllen, he’s got a good heart, he’ll look after you, he just does what he has to do, I mean, man, would you, that would be so cool, she would love you, she really would, we could all go out for a drink together, oh shit, no we can’t cos I’ve gotta kill you, but y’know, y’know what I mean, man, we’d think of you. God man” and he actually kisses my forehead, then wipes the blood off his lips, “god man, I love you, you’re the best, I’m gonna go and get her now” and he’s wiping himself down and heading to the door, and I just manage to catch him and shout “Hey”
“What is it, bro?” he asks, lightly,
I speak slowly, trying to be clear, so important, “Hey, listen, maybe it would be, er, a good idea if you let me out of these shackles, it may not give the, erm, best impression, when she gets here” I stutter.
“Yo! Yeah, good point man” and suddenly I’m free, and just as suddenly he’s gone. I have no idea how long I have. I have no idea what I should do. I want to stretch out, I want to feel freedom, feel warmth around my arms, clean my face, I want to get up and get away from this darkness but I can’t, I can’t move, it’s as if I’m still tied down, my arms and legs are so tired, they feel like… ice, they feel like ice, they feel like they will snap if I do anything except just continue to lie here, but I know that I have to get up, I know that I have to move and move quickly, before they get back and so I look round, trying to find something to focus on, something to concentrate on, in the dull, bleary hut that I occupy… The computer! Yes – exactly, the computer! Let me get to it, let me check it out, with any luck… and I think of only that as I force myself up, pain screaming through my body, but I can’t give in to it, just got to get up, get to the console and keep standing, just got to move, got to ignore the images that rage and crash through my brain, as I need to get there, one leg is up, is on the floor, Christ, it’s like hot coals, it’s like needles shoved into my muscles and twisted, my other leg is there, the room is swaying as I try to keep my balance, it’s like a wolf ripping it’s fangs into my flesh and tearing, then tearing again, and a step forward, my vision goes red as I shut my eyes to deal with the pain and I crash, crash, and now, I’m there, open my eyes, but no I’m not there, I’m still in the middle of the room, outcast, in a sea, everything around me, there’s nothing there, and I stumble and almost fall, it’s like the alligators almost get me, but I manage to stay up and move myself forward, so slowly, with so much effort and now I’m there, I’m there and I’m holding onto the desk and I feel for the first time a huge sense of relief sweep through my body. I give myself a minute to calm down, to allow my breathing to return to normal, to allow my eyes to focus, to allow my hands to stop shaking and then I concentrate on the computer, try to picture what’s on the screen, what he’s left, and it takes me a little while to process but I realise, joyfully, that he’s left himself logged in, and I focus, concentrate, start typing, furiously, as if my life depends on it, which it probably does.
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