The Creator

by Neil Carstairs

  Madeline studied Nathan. At a glance, he seemed like any other teenage boy. Tall and gangly, with a shock of dark hair that drooped over his eyes in a way that gave him a moody, brooding look. It was inside Nathan that the differences occurred. He struggled with social communication and he had sensory difficulties. What made Nathan difficult to diagnose, were the results that suggested Nathan acted this way.

  Madeline heard the faint chimes of the doorbell reach through into the interview room. The staff had tried to soundproof the room as best as possible but their budget didn’t stretch as far as getting a professional job done. Support from the charity’s sponsors had dried up since the financial crisis and local council cuts meant even less money available to fund the home.

  Madeline noticed Nathan’s head rise a fraction as the sound of the doorbell repeated. Taking his interest as a cue she said, ‘I wonder who that could be?’

  Nathan gave the tiniest of smiles. ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you?’ Madeline sat forward. Perhaps now they could start communicating.

  Nathan pushed his chair back and stood. Before Madeline could say anything the boy walked to the door and opened it. Madeline followed him. She hurried to keep up with his long strides. The ground floor interview room lay in the west wing of the house. They made their way along wood-panelled corridors with original carpeting that deadened the sound of their footsteps. It all made Madeline think of Downton Abbey (she tried to ignore the fact she was old enough to remember Upstairs Downstairs). By the time they reached the reception hall of the house Madeline was out of breath.

  Two young people, one male and one female, were talking to Josh, one of the house managers. Nathan stopped so quickly that Madeline almost ran into him. The sound made Josh and the visitors turn. Madeline heard Nathan whisper something, that sounded like ‘it’s them’.

  Josh said, ‘I think this might be the boy you are talking about.’

  ‘Yes, I think it is,’ the woman said.

  Madeline heard the American accent with surprise. Beside her, she felt Nathan take a half step back. She looked at Josh and asked, ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘I was just about to find out,’ Josh said.

  ‘We were visiting your local church earlier when we scared a teenage boy who was inside. When we asked in the village a local suggested that the boy came from this home. We just wanted to make sure he was okay because he ran away before we could speak to him.’

  ‘And you think it was Nathan?’ Madeline asked.

  ‘He had the same sports top on,’ the man said.

  Nathan turned and walked away, back along the corridor. Madeline hesitated. She wanted to find out more but knew she should stay with Nathan. She said to Josh, ‘I’ll go after him.’

  Josh watched Madeline disappear before he said, ‘Sorry about that. Some of our children have difficulties communicating, so seeing strangers might have upset Nathan. Before you go I’d like to make a note of your names and where you are staying. At least then we have details if anyone makes a complaint.’

  He led the couple into a cramped office and squeezed between a photocopier and a filing cabinet to get to his desk. Once seated Josh asked their names.

  ‘Joanne Kramer and Ben Scarrett,’ Kramer said. She spelt their names and then the name of the bed and breakfast they were staying at.

  ‘Just down the road, then,’ Josh smiled. ‘How long will you be there for?’

  ‘A couple more days,’ Kramer said. ‘We’ve had a hectic schedule and it’s nice to unwind somewhere quiet and peaceful.’

  ‘Darlford is quiet,’ Josh said. ‘A lot of our kids come from inner city areas so the countryside can be a shock to them.’

  ‘Are they permanent residents?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Oh, no, certainly not for the majority. Most of them are here for a week or two at a time. It gives their families respite from caring for them. In fact, only Nathan, who you met, is with us long term. His parents separated when he was four and then when he was ten his mother died of cancer. From then to thirteen his grandparent cared for him but they are too old to cope now. His father doesn’t want anything to do with him. Due to his condition getting him fostered or adopted is pretty much impossible. So he’s stuck with us I’m afraid.’

  ‘He seems like a nice kid,’ Kramer said.

  ‘He is.’ Josh smiled. ‘Although I’m surprised you saw him at the church. He’s never shown any thoughts or feelings towards religion.’

  ‘Perhaps something else interested him,’ Ben said. ‘There’s a strange carving on a stone tablet that could have caught his attention.’

  ‘Possibly.’ Josh shrugged. ‘I can get Madeline to ask him. See what he says.’

  ‘We’d like to know,’ Kramer said.

  ‘Why?’ Josh frowned.

  Ben could see the manager of the home thinking it odd that a couple of people on vacation would take that much interest in some kid they didn’t know. So Ben said, ‘Just to make sure he’s okay. We wouldn’t want to think that something we did upset him too much.’

  Josh didn’t look convinced. ‘I don’t think Madeline will ask him straight away. By then you’ll have moved on.’

  Kramer said to Ben, ‘I guess we best be going. We’ve taken up enough of Josh’s time already.’

  Josh seemed happy for them to leave, He escorted them to the front door.

  Kramer and Ben walked to their car. They took one last look at the manor house before Kramer said, ‘I’ll call Congrave. He’ll need to check up on this place.’

  ***

  Nathan watched the couple stop by the car. He stood beside a second-floor window and peered through leaded glass. He could feel Madeline as she hovered nearby. She kept quiet but Nathan could sense her nervousness. Madeline thought she knew a lot, but in truth she knew nothing. And about Nathan she knew nothing at all.

  The couple looked back up at the house. Nathan disregarded the blonde woman. She had no importance. The other one intrigued Nathan. The boy leant closer to the window and rested his forehead cool pane. Nathan saw his breath appear as a fog on the glass. His view became a blur, but through that blur he saw a shimmer of blue. Nathan wiped the glass clear. He concentrated now on the man and let his senses understand the blue shimmer. ‘Spirit Shield,’ he whispered.

  ‘Did you say something?’ Madeline came to his side. She looked out through the window. ‘Oh, it’s the people who saw you earlier. They came here to make sure you are safe.’

  ‘No,’ Nathan said. ‘They came here to destroy us.’

  ‘Destroy?’ Madeline repeated, hardly able to believe Nathan would speak like that.

  He looked at her. Madeline took a step back. She dealt with many young people, most of them troubled in one way or another. This time she saw something in Nathan’s eyes that scared her. Properly scared her.

  ‘I think we need to sit down and talk about this,’ she said.

  ‘No.’ Nathan turned back to the window. The car had gone. He closed his eyes, drawing in the memory of the man. Sharing it. He smiled.

  ‘Nathan?’

  ‘Go away,’ he said.

  ‘I need to understand what you just said. About being destroyed.’

  ‘Spirit shield,’ he said, and smiled. ‘Yes.’

  ***

  ‘It’s gone.’ Emily stood close to Connor, her voice low so that the grown-ups near them could not hear what she said.

  Connor didn’t need to ask what she meant. He’d never seen the shadow. He got more of a sense of foreboding from the presence. With Emily next to him he realised that feeling had gone. With a quick glance at his mother, he said, ‘When?’

  ‘A few minutes ago. I’ve got so used to it being there that I didn’t notice when it went.’

  ‘Do you think it has gone for good?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Emily hoped it wouldn’t return, but deep down she knew it would.

  ‘So where has it gone?’ Connor asked.

  Emily shrugged. She noticed her mom looking
over at her. ‘Can you get any idea?’

  ‘I’ve had some odd feelings today,’ Connor said. ‘I can’t say what they mean. It’s like having butterflies in your tummy.’

  ‘I feel the same,’ Emily said.

  Connor reached out and took Emily’s hand. She felt a surge of fire burst into her chest. It lifted her into darkness. Connor came with her. His hand still held hers. Emily saw a tunnel ahead. The walls a pattern of grey and black. Wind swept through her hair and buffeted her skin. She thought she heard Connor say something but his voice became lost in a myriad of other sounds. A scream reached out of the dark. Emily turned as she tried to find the source. She saw shadow figures, indistinct against the ever-moving wall. A woman, with blonde hair and pale skin, held out her hands as a man fired a gun at her. The woman fell. Emily saw blood and heard her killer laugh as the weapon he held swept round to aim at Emily and Connor.

  He fired.

  The shock of sound and impact drove Emily back to the dining room of Sheddlestone Hall. She almost fell, and only the fact that Connor still held her hand kept Emily upright. She looked at Connor and then around the room. Everyone at the buffet had their eyes fixed on Emily and Connor. Jane moved first, followed a moment later by Devon. They ran to their child’s side.

  Jane grabbed Emily as she said, ‘What happened?’

  ‘A vision,’ Emily said. She could still feel the bullet hitting her. ‘A bad one.’

  Congrave came over. ‘We’ll get you to another room for some privacy.’

  Natalie took charge. She sent Reuben off to find Alex Hughes. Three members of Delta team materialised from somewhere in the stately home to escort Connor and Emily to a parlour room. Natalie gave the children drinks and sat with them. Emily sipped the blackcurrant squash as Jane stroked her hair. When Alex and Reuben arrived Natalie said, ‘Did you share the vision?’

  ‘I think so.’ Emily looked at Connor. ‘Were you in a tunnel?’

  ‘Yes, and a man was shooting a woman.’

  ‘Did you recognise either of them?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘No,’ Connor said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Emily said. ‘I just felt as if there was a connection. I got a picture of Ben in my head when it was happening.’

  ‘Was he doing the shooting?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘No,’ Emily said with a definite shake of her head.

  ‘Could the woman have been Joanne?’

  ‘No,’ Emily said. ‘I think it’s someone connected to Ben.’

  ***

  Douglas Congrave and Delta One waited in Congrave’s huge office as Natalie entered. The office had once been a reception room big enough to hold three original marble fireplaces that dominated one wall. Four windows were set opposite them that looked out over grounds designed by Capability Brown. Congrave didn’t care about that, he just needed an answer.

  ‘Emily and Connor saw the same vision of a man shooting a woman. Emily thinks there is a connection to Ben Scarrett.’

  ‘Joanne Kramer?’ Congrave asked.

  ‘She doesn’t think so.’

  ‘Not much help, then,’ Congrave said. ‘Does anyone know if Ben is married or has a girlfriend?’

  ‘I don’t think either apply,’ Delta One said. ‘I got the impression from Jo that he’s single.’

  ‘Well I’ll pass this one over to his boss,’ Congrave said and then added. ‘But if there’s a threat connected to Ben then we need to think about putting your team on alert.’

  ‘I was thinking the same,’ Delta One said. ‘Do we need to take a psychic with us?’

  ‘Probably Alex Hughes,’ Congrave said.

  ‘Emily and Connor want to go,’ Natalie said. ‘When I spoke to them about the vision they both said they need to be there.’

  ‘Impossible,’ Delta One said.

  ‘Not ideal,’ Congrave sighed. ‘Were their mothers there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what did they say?’

  ‘They were horrified at the idea,’ Natalie said.

  Congrave smiled. ‘But the children insisted?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘You can’t be thinking of putting them into the village?’ Delta One asked.

  ‘Do you know how Connor found us? He and his mother travelled down from Birmingham. He walked into our offices because his psychic guide told him where to go. And Emily? She’s the link according to Dawson. Whatever has been inspiring all the recent attacks has been centring them on Emily. You were there at one of them.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I can’t see it being right to put her back through all that death again.’

  ‘It’s not about right or wrong,’ Congrave said. ‘It’s about getting the job done. Natalie, you call Joanne, find out if they might have triggered a reaction. Don’t mention any threat connected to Ben. I’ll call General Dawson and let him know. Delta One, I want you and your team ready to move with fifteen minutes’ notice. The children will go with you, and their mothers as well.’

  ‘Sounds like a recipe for disaster,’ Delta One said.

  ‘No,’ Congrave said. ‘It sounds like our enemy is responding. We need to hit it with everything we’ve got, including two ten-year-olds if necessary.’

  Chapter 14

  Hugo Dawson disconnected the call from the United Kingdom and called out to his secretary, ‘Which team are on rapid response?’

  ‘Three,’ the reply came back. ‘Buhl and Pruitt with one of the Rangers.’

  ‘Get them up here now.’

  Dawson slumped into his chair, worn out by the last few days. Part of him wished he had stayed in retirement. The previous day had been spent explaining to the President how a so-called allied nation could send troops into the U.S. to rescue a little girl that his own people couldn’t find. It made Dawson wish he’d listened to his wife’s advice and moved to Hawaii. While he waited for Team Three to arrive Dawson scrolled through Ben Scarrett’s background report. He found the details for Chrissie Scarrett and printed them off just as Buhl knocked on the door.

  ‘You wanted to see us, General?’ Buhl asked.

  Dawson passed over the printout. ‘Unspecified threat to Chrissie Scarrett, Ben’s sister. She rents a room at his condo and works at a bookshop in McLean. I need you over there to cover her.’

  Buhl read the details before passing them to the Ranger, Drake. ‘This connected with our mission?’

  ‘Yes. Someone trying to hit a soft target and get to Ben that way.’

  ‘You want us to bring her back?’

  ‘From the reports about her you’ll have to drag her here kicking and screaming. But this is the safest place. So yes, bring her back.’

  The men left the room. Dawson closed his eyes. Yes, Hawaii seemed inviting right now. He sighed. Congrave had advised him not to call Kramer and warn her about the threat. She and Ben were investigating what they hoped was the centre of the paranormal activities. Dawson knew what he would do. Send in the army. The Brits did things a little more slowly though and Dawson could only pray they weren’t too slow.

  ***

  Du Chae-Hong woke to a room that reeked of tobacco smoke and sex. He lay on his back and stared up at a grimy ceiling home to grey trails of cobwebs. He thought about death. Yesterday, he had died. At least, he thought it was yesterday. He closed his eyes. Saw death. Opened his eyes. What day is it?

  He rolled his overweight body off the narrow bed and stood. The room seemed to swirl around him in a momentary attack of vertigo. Chae-Hong recovered his balance and found himself staring at his naked body reflected in a dresser mounted mirror. He turned away, embarrassed by the sight and saw a pile of clothes on the floor. Picking them up, he dressed in the loose-fitting grey cotton that he had favoured before all the deaths. Beneath the pile, resting on a heavy, khaki overcoat were the guns. His guns. His beautiful babies. Chae-Hong had tears in his eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed and rested the weapons on his lap. Two automatics, extended clips fully loaded. They fit into his hands
as if God had designed them just for him. Chae-Hong lifted one, held it out and sighted down the barrel. He swept it around the room. Aimed at the door, a chair, a lampstand and finally his own reflection. ‘Bang,’ he said.

  Just holding the gun made his heart beat faster. Du Chae-Hong had died aged twenty-three. He’d never had a girlfriend. Never asked a girl out on a date. If someone asked him what he thought sex would be like, he would have described the feeling of holding a gun. He lowered the gun, still looking at his mirror image. His round face embarrassed him. Back in school someone had once described his eyes as raisins in the slush. Du Chae-Hong hated the kid for that. Even if it did portray the black dots of his eyes lost in the folds of flesh pretty well. And that was why Du Chae-Hong was alive again because hate drove him to his death fourteen years before.

  A kind of edgy boredom made him pace the room from door to window and back. The view through the grimy pane of glass showed a derelict used-car lot. Tattered bunting fluttered against a grey sky and broken wire fencing rattled in the wind. Du Chae-Hong sat on the edge of his bed. He could feel a slow burn start in his chest. A knowledge grew within him that he sat in this room for a reason. He should be dead. Left to rot in that hellish dark zone where his tormented soul ran from the memories of his life.

  Images filled his head. A voice whispered to him. He listened. He used the words as if they were a crutch to support his weary body. The voice calmed his nerves and painted a picture. A shopping mall. People. Du Chae-Hong carrying his guns.

  Death.

  He smiled and rose, the overcoat fitted perfectly. The guns slipped into pockets on either side as if they were holsters. One more glance into the mirror. He looked more the part now. A killer on the hunt for victims. No-one could stand in his way.

  ***

  Chrissie Scarrett usually caught a bus to work. She enjoyed people watching. It also gave her a sense that not using a car at least contributed to reducing her carbon footprint. With Ben away things were different. He’d left his car for her to use. So, for the time being, she drove to work. She parked in the furthest corner of the mall parking lot. Close to her usual bus stop. Closer still to the health food shop where she bought her lunch. It wasn’t just lunch that took her to the shop. She liked one of the guys who worked there and thought maybe he liked her back but she’d never had the confidence to ask.