The Creator

by Neil Carstairs

  ‘I wasn’t drunk.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Well, maybe partly. Are you trying to say it was inevitable?’

  ‘No, I’m saying it was bad practice. When we’re in the field, we are never off duty.’

  ‘Like I said, I’m sorry, but the whole day has been overwhelming.’

  ‘Not so easy is it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Firing a gun at a paper target is easy, but when you’re aiming at a human, even if you know they trying to kill you it’s a completely different game.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  They drove in silence. The city faded out around them as they followed the other vehicle onto rural roads. More silence built up between them. Ben wanted to break it but Kramer seemed content to just drive as she followed the taillights of the other vehicle.

  ‘Have you worked it out yet?’ Her question surprised him. He looked across at Kramer. She smiled in the dark, her face bathed in the wash of light from the dashboard.

  ‘Worked what out?’

  ‘How to apologise properly.’

  ‘I thought I had.’

  She half laughed. ‘Wait until the morning, when you’re sober and have had enough hours to realise you should be dead. The succubus could have just pulled you into the alley next to the bar and we would have only found you at dawn.’

  ‘I guess it all happened too quickly. You did save my life.’

  ‘Not sure why.’

  ‘Maybe because you like me?’

  Kramer gave him a brief glare. ‘In your dreams.’

  ‘I’ll tell you about them in the morning.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘My dreams.’

  She looked at him long and hard. Long enough that he started to worry the car would go off the road.

  ‘Your dreams,’ she said, ‘are my nightmares.’

  He had no reply to that and Kramer didn’t say another word until they were at the safe house and out of the Suburban.

  ‘We’re on the road at eight,’ she said as she stalked off into the open doorway of a sprawling ranch style building. By the time Ben got inside she had disappeared and the other army guys were dividing up the rooms. Ben got the short straw of a third-floor attic space. He lay on the bed, still dressed, and wondered whether Captain Joanne Kramer would kill him before the resurrected did.

  ***

  Dawn mist clung to the farmland around the safe house as Ben stood on the porch and drank his morning coffee. He didn’t know if the aches in his head and body were all succubus related or if he could blame some of them on the beers. In the shower that morning he’d counted fifteen separate bruises that he could see and sitting in the kitchen with the others he’d had to work hard to cover up the fact he was in so much discomfort.

  Mack must have known because when he announced that the three soldiers would be leaving early to catch their flight his way of a goodbye to Ben had been a good old-fashioned slap on the back. Ben had just about held back the pain and met Mack’s grin with a glare that made the corporal’s smile even wider as he and his comrades walked out the door. That left Ben alone with Kramer. She hadn’t exchanged a word with him at breakfast which was why Ben stood outside in the chill morning air wishing he could spin the clock back twelve hours or so and not get taken in by the succubus. He heard footsteps on the porch behind him.

  Kramer came out of the safe house with her pack slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look at him as she said, ‘We leave in five minutes.’

  Ben tipped the rest of his coffee away. He hoped the caffeine wouldn’t do too much damage to the shrubbery. He took the mug into the kitchen and swilled it before he ran to his room and grabbed his belongings. Kramer had the engine of the Suburban running when he came outside. He stuck his bag in the back and got in alongside her. Kramer had an email open on her smartphone. ‘Details from General Dawson,’ she said, passing the phone to Ben.

  Ben read and Kramer drove.

  A body had been found in a roadside grit store. Not yet identified but a female aged around fifty. No evidence linked either Julie Zabel or the DeForrests to the death yet but Dawson’s team were working on the assumption due to the close proximity of Kenyon. Priority was for Kramer and Ben to get to the site. By then Dawson hoped to have more information for them to track.

  Ben closed the email and slipped the phone into the centre console. Kramer concentrated on driving. He looked out of his window at the farmland sweeping past. Harvest time had come and the land was being worked to bring in the crops. Ben had something to say but couldn’t find the right time until they passed over a wide, slow moving river and the shadows of the bridge pillars flickered like the bars of a prison across his eyes. Ben looked across at Kramer and said, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For last night. For putting myself and you in danger. I got drunk and I almost paid the price for being stupid.’

  She drove in silent thought for a couple of hundred yards before saying, ‘Lesson learned?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ***

  Pete Walsh lived in a two-storey ranch house in Westchester, on the outskirts of Chicago. Julie looked at the house as Jane pointed it out, glanced at her friend and said, ‘Is he a successful author?’

  ‘He’s had some good sales,’ Jane said.

  ‘How good?’

  Jane shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, I know a couple of his books were optioned into films. One of them had Matt Damon in it.’

  ‘So he’s what you might call comfortably off?’

  ‘I guess.’ Jane felt embarrassed now and turned to Emily who had already undone her seatbelt and couldn’t wait to get out.

  ‘I can’t wait to see him,’ Emily said with a grin.

  ‘Me neither,’ Jane whispered.

  Emily scrambled out first and ran ahead of Jane and Julie to the front door. It opened before she even reached it and Jane felt her heart skip a beat as Pete appeared in the doorway. He gave her one of his five-star smiles before Emily hit him at full tilt. Pete stumbled backwards. ‘Whoah, little girl. Or should I say big girl? Look how much you have grown!’

  He lifted Emily off her feet and swung her round both adult and child laughing.

  ‘Marry him,’ Julie said.

  Jane stared in amazement at Julie. ‘What?’

  ‘Look at them. It’s like they’re father and daughter.’ Julie stopped on the path. ‘Do you love him?’

  ‘I...’ Jane saw Pete put Emily down and now he came towards her and his smile was just for her. Not for anyone else. In the moment before he took her in his arms she said to Julie. ‘Yes.’

  Jane held Pete tight. The emotions of the last twenty-four hours expanded within her like an oil well about to blow out. She stayed close to him. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. Pete saw them anyway. He pulled back to look down at her with a frown.

  ‘You’re shaking,’ he said.

  Jane nodded, tried to say something and failed. She just buried her face into his shoulder. Pete looked over her head at Julie. ‘Is it that bad?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably worse,’ Julie said.

  Pete turned to Emily. ‘Alfie is locked in the kitchen. Take him into the garden and have some fun. He’s been going stir crazy with me these last few days.’

  As Emily squealed in delight and ran into the house as Julie said, ‘Alfie?’

  ‘My Golden Retriever,’ Pete said as the sound of barking came from inside. ‘Now, let’s get your bags out of the car before I make coffee.’

  ‘We don’t have bags,’ Julie said. ‘Just what we came in.’

  Pete frowned. ‘You left wherever you were in a hurry?’

  ‘You might say that,’ Julie said and held out her hand. ‘I’m Julie, by the way, Julie Zabel.’

  ‘Pete Walsh,’ he said, his handshake firm. ‘Let’s go inside.’

  Pete made coffee for the three of them and took a Diet Coke out to Emily. When he returned Julie and Jane were sitting s
ide by side at an oak kitchen table. Pete sat across from them, resting his elbows on the table. He studied them for a moment before asking. ‘Are you two together or something?’

  ‘No,’ Jane and Julie said together.

  ‘Just asking,’ Pete said.

  ‘Pete used to be a detective in the Chicago Police Department,’ Jane said, as if that explained everything to Julie. ‘He left to take up writing full time when his first novel was published.’

  ‘It’s just unusual for two women and a child to travel halfway across the country without spare clothing or any kind of bags,’ Pete said.

  Jane and Julie exchanged a glance. Each one expected the other to start talking. When it became clear that Jane did not know what to say Julie said, ‘We only met a few months ago when we were taken on by a... government department to do some research.’

  ‘Which department?’ Pete asked.

  ‘I’m not sure we can say,’ Julie said. ‘Well, at least I could tell you it’s part of Homeland Security.’

  ‘And what were you doing?’

  Julie hesitated. ‘I did what I do for a living.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I’m a psychic, and I was recruited to provide intelligence based upon my psychic abilities to aid DHS in their mission.’

  Pete could have played poker for a living. He switched his gaze from Julie to Jane and said, ‘Are you a psychic as well?’

  ‘No,’ Jane said in a quiet voice. ‘It’s Emily they wanted to recruit. I went along as her guardian.’

  ‘Emily’s psychic?’ Pete said in a flat voice.

  ‘Actually,’ Julie said. ‘Emily is a precognitor. It means she can see future events. She is incredibly valuable to the team.’

  Pete sipped his coffee and Jane could tell he did this to give himself time to think. He put the mug down and glanced out of the kitchen window as Alfie let loose a volley of barks as he played with Emily.

  Pete sighed. ‘If I didn’t know Jane so well I would dismiss what you said out of hand,’ he said to Julie. ‘As it is I still find it hard to believe.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Julie said. She stood and went to get a folded newspaper off a work-surface. The front page had news of the Seattle shoot-out. Julie opened the paper to more coverage inside including a series of still images from the television footage. She turned the pages so they faced Pete. She pointed to one image. ‘Her name is Joanne Kramer; she is a Captain in the U.S. Army. This guy’s name is Ben, I’m not sure of his surname as he only joined the team the day before. Do you know Jane?’

  ‘No, I think it may have been Scarlett? I’m not sure, something like that anyway.’

  ‘And here? These guys are army as well, part of Joanne Kramer’s team. They were assigned to the DHS unit we are part of.’

  Pete stared at the photos. ‘Is this why you are in danger.’

  ‘Partly,’ Julie said. ‘Whatever happened in Seattle is linked to what happened at Kenyon.’

  ‘And what’s Kenyon?’ Pete asked.

  ‘Kenyon is a joint military base in Nebraska. It’s where we have been for the last few months. Yesterday, while we were off base having a meal in a local restaurant, Kenyon was attacked.’

  ‘Attacked?’ Pete frowned. ‘Like by terrorists or something? Surely that would have been on the news or the internet by now?’

  ‘Kenyon is top secret. So is what happens there. We’re running because Emily saw what happened with her second sight. And because of something else.’

  ‘What?’ Pete asked.

  Julie reached out to hold Jane’s hand. ‘There was another woman with us. Her name was Karen O’Riordan. At some point she became possessed by an entity that called itself ‘The Creator’. She threatened Emily.’

  ‘And what happened?’ Pete asked.

  ‘I killed her,’ Jane said, without emotion. ‘I hit her head with a lump of stone and I killed her. And that makes me a murderer.’

  ***

  ‘I don’t think you are a murderer and when they know the facts I don’t think the police will either.’

  The house held a night-time quiet that Pete liked as the walls cooled and creaked like an old lady settling into an armchair with a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of cake. He’d had more time recently to enjoy this hour after his wife moved out and told him she wanted a divorce. Pete watched Jane as she shook her head. They sat across the living room from each other with the lights turned down low and the television off.

  Julie had gone to bed half an hour earlier, and Emily a couple of hours before that, leaving Pete and Jane alone for the first time that day. Pete still hadn’t come to terms with the revelation that Emily had psychic abilities. He hadn’t pushed Jane too much during the day. Emily had been in and out of the house with Alfie and Julie had dominated the conversation whenever Pete tried to find out more. Now he asked, ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Emily?’

  ‘Would you have believed me?’

  ‘I’d like to think so but I may have needed to see evidence.’

  Jane shifted in her chair. She tucked her feet beneath her as she said, ‘I didn’t know who to turn to. Lyndsey had made it clear she didn’t want us to contact each other again. The police thought I was some sort of terrorist...’

  ‘Idiots,’ Pete said.

  ‘Which is why I can’t go to them now. They won’t believe me whatever I say about Karen being possessed.’

  Pete sighed. Lamplight spilled across Jane’s slim frame. Her red hair seemed to shine. Pete remembered the first time they had met. A cold mid-western day. Jane wrapped up in a sweater, coat, scarf, hat and gloves but still with that sparkle in her eye that caught his attention. He could see the sparkle was still there. Dimmed a little by the recent events, but still enough to remind him why she had captured his heart. ‘Jane,’ he said.

  She looked up, and he saw tears in her eyes. ‘I thought you wouldn’t want to see me. I thought you would blame me for Lyndsey leaving and...’

  ‘Jane, I love you,’ Pete said. ‘Have done since that first time we met. If I’d been a braver man I would have left Lyndsey for you. But I wasn’t brave. I was stupid.’

  Jane half-laughed half-coughed, wiping tears from her face. ‘You’re not stupid.’

  ‘Not anymore.’ Pete had been planning this moment for the last twenty-four hours since Jane called. He rose, stepped across the room and held out one hand. Jane stood and Pete took her into his arms. He drew her close. Her warmth and fragility filled his senses. He led her from the room. The lamp remained on, casting its shadows as Pete and Jane made their way upstairs. Behind them, in the living room, those shadows darkened.

  ***

  Emily chose the highest bedroom in the house to sleep in. Pete had had the loft space converted into a fifth bedroom with an en-suite bathroom alongside an office that he worked in. Alfie, inseparable from Emily since her arrival, lay on the bed with her. She had taken some time to fall asleep. The old house made some strange noises at night, and Alfie didn’t help with his deep breathing that some people (unkind people in Emily’s view) would call snoring. He also liked to kick, growl and bark in his sleep and, until exhaustion claimed Emily, she had tried to imagine what kind of doggy dreams filled his head.

  As Emily slept, Alfie woke. He shifted and lifted his head to study the girl. Then he turned to find the source of the sound that had disturbed him. Streetlights painted a soft glow on the window blinds. They gave Alfie enough light to see the room. Emily’s clothing lay scattered on the floor. An old chest of drawers and a matching wardrobe waited for the garments that Pete had promised they would buy the following day.

  Alfie tensed and his hackles rose. An odour drifted to him, caught on an unseen eddy of air. On the stairway to the loft space a tread creaked. Alfie whined. He shifted so his legs braced beneath his body. A tremor of uncertainty ran down his body. The odour grew in strength. A smell of burnt meat on a griddle. Alfie came to all fours as deep in his chest a growl formed, starting low but growi
ng in intensity. From the other side of the bedroom door came the sound of claws scraping on wood. Alfie stepped back. His rear paws pressed onto Emily. The weight of his body woke her.

  ‘Alfie?’ Emily sat up, still half-asleep. She reached out to touch the retriever’s back. She felt the tension in his frame and came fully awake as he growled again. This time louder. ‘What’s wrong, boy?’

  Emily peered into the room. Saw shadows. Saw something.

  If Emily hadn’t been sleeping she may have got more warning from her precognition. Now she saw them, in her mind’s eye, coming up the stairs. Hunched, naked and hungry.

  Emily screamed.

  ***

  Jane lay on her right side with Pete close beside her. The warmth of his body a comfort in the night. One of his hands made lazy circling motions on her stomach, something Jane had always liked. She guessed it came from being sensitive to tickling but this was a nice, delicious feeling as she came down from the high of their lovemaking. Pete kissed her shoulder as his hand drifted up her body. Jane caught hold of his wrist as the hand crested her ribcage. She said, ‘Too soon.’

  Pete chuckled. ‘You shouldn’t be so beautiful.’

  ‘Oh, so it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands off me?’ Jane turned in his arms, pressing close to him. Yes, he was ready again, and come to think of it so was she.

  Pete didn’t bother replying. He rolled onto his back and lifted Jane with him so she straddled his body. His hands went to her breasts, supporting Jane as she leant forward to kiss him. Jane’s hips moved and Pete groaned as he felt himself caught in a hot, wet grasp. As their kiss broke he said, ‘Too soon.’

  Jane laughed and pushed back so he could look up at her naked body. His fingers sank into her waist and held. They waited. Pete’s throat grew dry. He made a small movement with his hips and heard Jane sigh. She pushed down.

  Emily screamed.

  They had a brief moment of panic as they struggled on the bed to push away from each other and hold on to each other at the same moment. Jane fell from Pete and the bed. She sprawled on the hard carpet. Her voice already rose, ‘Emily!’