UNWELCOME GUESTS: An atmospheric, suspenseful thriller

by Anna Willett

Jace turned back to the door and grasped the knob. He moved his wrist as if to turn it but then let it go so he could wipe his hand on the front of his shirt. When he finally turned the knob, the door swung inwards with surprising ease. Caitlin gasped and clutched Eli’s shoulder.

  An arm, as grey as the concrete floor beneath it, lay in the arc of light flooding in from the cellar. The first thing that struck Caitlin was how dirty the hand and nails looked. The skin appeared bruised and powdery as if it had been dragged through the dirt.

  “Holy shit.” Jace took a step into the room running his hand along the wall.

  “Watch it, mate. They might try something.” Eli’s voice sounded croaky and strange, as if coming from someone older.

  The lights came on giving them their first real look at the previously locked room.

  * * *

  “Is he alive?” Her words hung in the air as the three of them regarded the figure on the floor.

  “He’s breathing.” Jace hesitated over the slumped form, not sure whether to touch him.

  Caitlin understood his reluctance. From what she could see, the man was in pretty bad shape. He’d clearly been beaten—badly. With half his face pressed to the floor, what she could see was a network of cuts and bruises. His eye, swollen shut beneath a gash that sliced through his eyebrow. He wore what looked like jeans and a t-shirt, although the layer of dirt and possibly blood that coated him made it difficult to be sure.

  The rawness of the man’s appearance made him seem somehow less human. She felt repulsed by him in a way that took her by surprise. He was obviously in need of help yet she felt herself wanting to turn away.

  “Who could have done this?” Jace crouched over the man, still not touching him.

  “What do you mean, who?” Eli’s voice, loud and thick with anger cut through their questions. “It’s obvious who. Your rich mate.” He stepped through the doorway and stood over his brother and the unconscious man. “We’re in the guy’s house, so this has got to be down to him.” He pointed at the figure. “What the hell have you got us into?”

  Jace looked from Caitlin to Eli, his face slack with shock and confusion. “What? I don’t… You think I know something about this?” He shook his head. “You don’t really think I knew this was going on?” He turned from his brother back to Caitlin. “Come on.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Eli was right. The house belonged to Jace’s friend. She didn’t believe for a minute Jace would be involve in hurting someone, but he had to know what sort of man his friend was. Or at least who the guy on the floor was.

  “Cat, you don’t think I knew about this, do you?” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, it stabbed at her heart.

  “No. No, of course I don’t. It’s just,” she hesitated.

  “It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” Eli cut in. “This is serious. We need to get this guy help. Call an ambulance. He might be dying for all we know.”

  “Please.” The one word hung in the air, raw and laboured.

  For a second, no one moved. Jace was the first to react and break the spell.

  “It’s okay, mate. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He got down on one knee and put his hand on the man’s chest. “What’s your name?”

  It was difficult to tell where the bruising ended and the grime began. One eye was nothing more than a swollen bulb with a slit that was once an eye socket. He tried to speak; moving his lower lip opened up a split that immediately bubbled with blood.

  “It’s okay.” Jace’s voice was gentle. “You don’t have to say anything now.”

  Caitlin kept shifting her gaze between the man and Eli, waiting for him to react and take charge. As if reading her thoughts, he turned to her. “Go get a blanket. We need to get him upstairs.”

  She nodded. Before turning and rushing back upstairs, she took one final look. Beyond the figure on the floor and her husband and brother-in-law, lay the room where the man had been kept. In the far corner, a steel toilet was bolted to the floor. Plastered across the back wall in slashes and dollops were brownish stains. The scene was stark in the unforgiving light of one bare bulb, as if the whole thing were unreal in some way.

  She narrowed her eyes, fascinated by the odd pigments decorating the wall. When it dawned on her what she was seeing, her stomach clenched as if she’d been punched. It wasn’t paint or damp, but blood. She raised a hand to her mouth as if expecting a scream.

  “Caitlin.” Eli’s voice snapped her gaze off the wall. “Go find a blanket, as quick as you can.” His voice was soft, almost as gentle as his brother’s. How long had it been since he’d spoken to her with such kindness?

  “Okay. Sorry.” She turned and fled.

  Once on the second floor, Caitlin raced into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of black tennis shoes. She thought of just grabbing a blanket off the bed where Eli had been sleeping, but something else occurred to her. She headed for the linen cupboard stopping only to flick on the lights.

  Kneeling in front of the open cupboard, she pressed her cheek to the floorboards. Whatever was in the silver box might be connected to the man in the cellar. After all, someone had gone to great lengths to hide it. Just like that guy downstairs. The splattered wall danced across her mind with its gruesome patterns.

  She sucked in air through her nostrils and forced the image away. Hooking her finger through the hole in the panel under the bottom shelf, she pulled. She had the box in her hands. A set of clips secured the lid. She flicked them back and opened the box.

  A gasp whistled past her lips. Sitting on a cushioned bed of black foam was a gun. Its barrel, sleek and silver glinted in the light. Below the black hand grip, a dark rectangle. She’d seen enough movies to recognise the shape as a clip, something used to hold bullets. What the hell is this place?

  A shiver made its way up her spine and sent a tremor through her shoulders. Something was terribly wrong. If the brutalized man in the cellar wasn’t enough, the sight of the hand gun confirmed it. Where would someone even get a hand gun? This wasn’t America. Hand guns were almost impossible to procure.

  She stared at the gun, the first real one she’d ever seen. Like the blood splatters, it seemed surreal. She flipped the box closed and stood, grabbing a yellow blanket from one of the shelves. She slid the box under her arm, surprised at how weighty it felt and returned to the stairs.

  The lights came on when she was half way down, flooding the sitting room. Jace stood in the archway leading to the kitchen, one arm hooked under the guy’s armpit as his right arm hung limply over Jace’s shoulder. The man’s legs bowed out as if he were sinking into the floor.

  Eli appeared from the study. “Bring him in here.” He crossed the room and shouldered some of the guy’s weight. Together, the brothers shuffled the man into the study.

  Caitlin began to follow then stopped. She wondered if it were a good idea to mention the gun in front of the injured man. He was hurt and locked in the cellar, but what else did they know about him? How was he connected to the gun? For all she knew it might be his. It seemed in this house, anything could be possible.

  She put the box on the coffee table and then changed her mind. Clutching it to her side, she scanned the sitting room, looking for a place to stash the weapon. Deciding upon the sofa, she bent down and slid the silver case between the front legs. There would be time to tell Eli about its existence later.

  She could smell him before she entered the study. An earthy odour mixed with sweat and something metallic, it reminded her of a memory she’d pushed so far to the back of her mind, it was now difficult to grasp and identify. She wrinkled her nose and stepped into the room.

  The man lay slumped on the chaise lounge. His one visible eye fluttered open as she entered. “Here.” Caitlin held the blanket out to her husband, not wanting to have to touch the man herself.

  Eli took the blanket without looking at her and draped it over the man’s body, tucking it around his shoulders. Jace stood nearby, hands on hips. “We ne
ed to get him to a hospital.”

  Eli nodded. “If my phone worked, we could call an ambulance.” There was sarcasm in his voice, clearly aimed at her. Caitlin would have felt wounded by his tone if she wasn’t so preoccupied with the gun and the memories that were trying to surface.

  “Water.” It was only the second time he’d spoken. His eye, brown and watery shifted but didn’t focus.

  Caitlin turned to her husband. “Why don’t you get it?” she spoke before Eli had the chance to order her back to the kitchen. Not because she wanted to remain with the injured man, but more to pre-empt another trip around the house on her own. Something was terribly wrong here, she could feel it in the marrow of her bones. The last thing she wanted was to make any more grim discoveries.

  Eli’s head snapped in her direction. He seemed to be about to argue, but then change his mind. “Okay.” He nodded to the man on the chaise. “Keep an eye on him.”

  “Are you okay?” Jace asked. He was looking at Caitlin. She wondered fleetingly why he’d waited for Eli to leave the room before asking her, but the thought sank under a wave of emotion.

  “I—Are you?” She didn’t know how to answer and could feel tears threatening to well up. Am I so starved of kindness that it only takes one question to break me?

  “Pretty weird, huh?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead.

  “Yeah. It’s weird all right.” She found herself staring at the injured man’s face. There was a crescent-shaped bruise on his cheek as if he’d been kicked. She shuddered and looked away. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.” Jace shrugged. “You heard me ask, but he–”

  “No. I don’t mean him.” Caitlin jerked her shoulder towards the guy on the chaise. “I’m talking about the man that owns this house.”

  “Oh yeah. Micky. Micky Blyte.” Jace’s eyes shifted from her to the doorway.

  He was hiding something, she could see it in the way he moved his weight from one foot to the other. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed the tell-tale movement. Now that she thought about it, he’d done the same thing when they arrived and she asked him what the owner did for a living, only then she’d been too distracted, worried about Eli’s sombre mood.

  “So, what do you know about this Micky Blyte?” said Eli from behind her.

  “He’s dangerous.” The guy on the chaise spoke through swollen lips, his voice thick and sluggish. “We need to get out of here before he comes back.”

  Chapter Four

  Things were spinning out of control. What started out as a harmless idea, a bit of fun, had turned into something Jace could never have imagined. Now everyone looked to him for answers, especially Eli.

  “Wait a minute.” He could see the panic growing in Cat’s eyes. He had to get the situation under control. “We don’t even know your name.” He spoke to the man lying on the chaise. “How did you end up locked in the cellar?”

  “Can I have some water please?” The man held out a tremulous hand to Eli who gave Jace a warning look before handing the guy the bottle he’d retrieved from the kitchen.

  The three of them waited while the injured man put the bottle to his swollen lips, winced and then drank. “My name’s Felix Holly.” He took another sip before continuing. “I don’t know why I was in the cellar, only that the man who put me there is crazy.” His one functioning eye shifted from Jace to Eli.

  “Does it matter who put him there?” Cat stepped closer to Eli. Jace thought he noticed his brother flinch slightly as if her closeness offended him. Knowing the real reason behind Eli’s reaction didn’t make it any easier to watch.

  “We should just get in the car and go.” Cat raised her hand as if to touch Eli’s arm, but instead brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Something’s going on here. Something dangerous. We should just go.” She turned to Eli. “We can drive to the police station in Mandurah and let them sort it out.”

  Panic jolted through Jace. If the police got involved, then everything would come to light and he’d find himself in deep shit. He tried to think of another way out of the jam, but his mind ticked back and forth between images of cop cars and blue flashing sirens.

  “Just drop me off at the hospital, I’ll get them to call the cops from there.” He clamped a hand over his abdomen and grimaced. “You got me out of that room. There’s no need to get involved in this any further.”

  Jace felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe there was a way out that wouldn’t end with the three of them sitting in a jail cell. “Okay. We’ll get you to a–”

  “No.” Eli’s voice was flat. Jace knew that tone all too well. When his brother made up his mind, he wouldn’t be moved.

  Jace noticed Cat’s shoulders droop. Like him, she knew there would be no point in arguing. He wished, just for once, Eli didn’t have to always be the one in charge. Jace loved his brother, or at least he used to. Lately it was getting harder to see past the things he did. The way he treated Cat.

  “I’m not getting in a car with you until I have some answers.” He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed his eyes on Felix. “What’s going on here?”

  Felix took another sip from the water bottle. Jace couldn’t help noticing that he seemed to be feeling a lot better than when they found him slumped on the cellar floor.

  “I didn’t know his name.” He nodded towards Jace. “Not until you said it a minute ago. All I know is he was waiting for me when I left the public swimming pool.” He touched a finger to his swollen eye. “It was dark, he came out of nowhere and hit me with something. I didn’t really get a good look at him until he got me back here.” His voice, slushy through swollen lips, rasped with the effort of speaking. “I don’t know how long I’ve been down there, a few days, maybe longer. It’s all a blur.”

  “And the bruises?” Eli prompted.

  Felix let out a long breath as if gathering the courage to continue. “The first day, he started hitting me. He’d put something over his hand so the blows hurt but didn’t break the skin. I was groggy from the whack on my head, but I could tell this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this.” He shook his head. Jace noticed there were grazes on the man’s neck. “He’s crazy, he gets off on inflicting pain. He kept waving a gun in my face, enjoying watching me beg.” He raised himself up until he was leaning forward, his one visible eye glittering with tears. “We need to be gone before he gets back.”

  Jace risked a glance at his brother. Arms still crossed over his chest, Eli looked to be in deep thought, but Jace knew better. There was uncertainty in the set of his face. They were caught up in something none of them had ever experienced and Eli was just as out of his depth as the rest of them.

  “Where are the car keys?” Jace wanted to move things along. Get out of the house as quickly as possible and drop Felix off at the hospital, not because he feared Micky Blyte’s return, but to untangle himself from the mess he’d landed them all in. What would Eli and Cat say if they knew he’d only seen Blyte once, exchanged less than a handful of words with the man?

  He waited for Eli to respond but his brother stood unmoving like a tightly-bunched tree trunk.

  “If it’s not safe here, we should go.” Jace tried again. He looked to Cat for support, hating himself for using her fear as a leverage to get Eli moving, but what choice did he have?

  “He’s right.” Cat’s eyes, startlingly green against her pale skin remained wide with fear. Jace wanted to put his arms around her. Tell her he’d keep her safe, but instead he looked down at his feet.

  “You said he had a gun?” Eli continued with the questions as if no one had spoken.

  “Yes, that’s right.” Even Felix’s voice sounded stronger now. “That’s one of the reasons we need to go.” He shifted his body, one hand still pressed against his ribs. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but we’re wasting time. I can tell you whatever else you want to know in the car.”

  Eli nodded. Jace let out a breath. Once they were on the road, he could figu
re out a way of keeping the three of them out of trouble. He’d have to come clean about Blyte and the house, but the truth could wait until they dropped Felix at the hospital.

  “Jace, Caitlin, we need to grab our stuff and go.” Eli jerked his chin towards the door, indicating that he wanted the two of them to follow him.

  Jace hesitated. As eager as he was to go, he felt uneasy about leaving Felix alone. He almost said something, but shrugged off the feeling as paranoia. He’d smoked weed and then found a man locked in the cellar, was it any wonder he felt jumpy?

  He followed Cat and Eli out of the room and across the open-plan sitting room. His flip-flops slapped the stone floor, the sound noisy and conspicuous in the silent house. As they filed into the kitchen, Jace couldn’t help snatching a glance behind him. For a split second, he thought he saw the study door move. He stopped walking and waited but the door remained a jar, just as he’d left it. Jesus, this place is really getting to me.

  Once in the kitchen, Cat set about taking their stuff out of the fridge and putting the remaining cans on the counter. “Just leave that.” Eli’s voice was clipped, as if he were straining to keep himself under control.

  Cat blinked and stopped moving. Jace could see a blush creeping up her slender neck. He wanted to say something. Tell his brother to stop being an asshole, but Cat looked close to tears, starting an argument with his brother would only make things worse. He clamped his lips together and leaned on the counter opposite the fridge.

  “Something’s really out of whack here.” Eli stood with his hands on his hips as if addressing an audience. “Apart from the obvious, I get the feeling that guy’s not telling us everything.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Jace couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. He was sick of his brother ordering everyone around. It might have worked when they were teenagers, but Jace no longer saw his older brother as a hero.

  “I’m saying, I don’t want that guy… Felix, in the car with us. We should go, but leave him here. We can stop at the police station and send the cops to sort things out.”