‘Do you know why I did that?’
Sobbing hysterically, the woman shook her head vigorously.
‘You didn’t follow the instructions I gave you. You need to put the organs back into the body in the right place. And you’ll stay in that room until you do. I know he’s pretty stinky now. Can you cope with it for longer?’
As he asked that, he turned the thermostat up on the furnace, causing the fire to leap forth in the metal-lined hollow inside. It glowed instantly in the background of the room, and he knew the temperature would raise quite a few degrees in a short space of time.
Going from hot to cold was one of his preferred methods of controlling the people he had playing his games. Sometimes, the body went into shock, and they died before the tasks were complete, but mostly the constant temperature changes made them ill. And when they were ill, they were more likely to focus on the hope of leaving and do what he asked.
He’d always found the women hardier – they usually started on the tasks straight away. It wasn’t until much later he would find they wore down and start to fight his instruction. The men were more apt to resisting from the start – this task was often one of the harder ones for them, having to touch the often-rotting flesh of another human being. Sometimes, he wondered why the sexes were so different, but he didn’t focus too much on it. It was one of those ‘it is how it is’ things, and he had far more interesting topics to think about than that.
He could see her hand trembling as she reached to pick up one of the large lungs – he saw her retch as she felt the slimy congealing blood on her bare hands. She didn’t have much to throw up, but she threw what little was there up beside her on the floor, and continued.
See, hardier, they are.
* * *
11th December, 2145 hours – Jackson’s residence
Jackson had been busying himself since he got home from work. He’d tried to sleep, but as usual, he couldn’t drop off – it happened a lot when he worked shifts – so he’d just get up and crack on with the stuff he had to do that day. So far, he’d cleaned the house, done some exercise in his mock gym room and managed to resolve some of the chord issues he was having on the latest song he was writing. He was pleased now it was nearly bedtime, though – his brain felt weary and full. He was due in at work at 8am the next day and knew he needed a full night’s sleep. The last part in the pattern of shifts was the hardest. Tomorrow was his first day of four dayshifts. Then, he would finally get three days off. He was already more than ready for them.
Nicki entered his mind – he hoped she would just leave him alone, now she thought he was seeing someone else, but he doubted it would happen. His phone had been surprisingly quiet today – normally, she sent him about ten texts a day. He’d put her on do not disturb on his iPhone, so he didn’t get alerted. Then, he would just delete them at the end of the day. Maybe she really had got the message this time.
He triple-checked that the front door was locked then headed into the bedroom. Literally the second he got himself settled down to sleep, the phone bleeped to life and banging came from his front door.
‘For God’s sake.’ He swore under his breath and placed the pillow over his head. ‘Please just fuck off and leave.’
The banging didn’t abate. If anything, it got louder.
Jackson flung the duvet off himself and jumped to his feet. His temper rose, and he took a deep breath before opening the front door with force, ready to shout at Nicki.
Instead of Nicki, though, his cousin Kevin Lang stood there with a four-bottle pack of Becks lager in his hand.
‘Hey, Jax, figured you might want a couple of bevvies before bed?’
Jackson stopped himself sighing loudly. All he really wanted now was his bed, but he wouldn’t tell Kevin that. Kev had been on leave with his girlfriend Edina – sick leave after they’d both been caught up in a house fire a few weeks back. Kevin was due back at work the next day on the same shift as Jackson.
He grinned at Kevin, ‘Haway in, bud. Those beers look mighty canny.’
* * *
11th December, 2150 hours – abandoned school near Durham
Cheryl had finally managed to do as the man’s voice said. She’d put all the body parts back inside the body in the right places – after some prompting and yelling off him.
She didn’t know who he was, but she didn’t like him. And neither did the other voices in her mind. Contrary to her request, the evil one hadn’t taken over so she could do the tasks. She’d stayed permanently quiet throughout the exercise, but now, she’d finished the task and was waiting for her next instruction.
Cheryl was exhausted – she just wanted to lie down and sleep, and this room was nice and warm. Her nose had adjusted to the assaulting smell from the man on the table – she could cope with it, if he just left her there.
But he didn’t.
‘Move towards the door at the base of the table.’ It echoed round the small room and made her ears thump with the level of volume.
She knew she didn’t want a blast of the alarm again, so made her way through and flung open the door. She stepped through and the door slammed hard behind her again. And immediately, she felt the walls closing in – this was a much smaller room than the last one – more like a closet than an actual room. She started panting. She’d always been claustrophobic – it was why she slept in the park. The temperature dropped rapidly, and she shivered – the sweat on her body starting to set and form a layer of cold around her skin.
A small dull light swung from the ceiling above her head, but it was too high to reach.
There was another sandwich and bottle of water in the corner on the floor and a thin, worn blanket.
‘Sleep now. You’ve done your tasks for the day. You’re one step closer to being able to leave.’
Cheryl heard a click as the microphone turned off, and panic filled her brain.
‘No, please don’t leave me here alone. Please. This room is too small. I can’t stay here.’
He didn’t respond, and she screamed, banging her fists on the door she’d just came through. She kept screaming until her throat was hoarse, but still, he didn’t reply.
She’d never felt so completely alone in her whole life.
Cheryl eventually sank to the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest. Tears streaked through the dried mud and blood on her cheeks, and she sobbed for a while, before eventually taking a few sips from the water bottle. She half-heartedly ate the sandwich, already understanding if she didn’t eat it, she wouldn’t get anything else until tomorrow. Or tonight? It was so dark in here, she couldn’t tell if it was day or night.
She finished the sandwich and gulped down yet more water. The bread was stale and the ham dry. Even the meals in the shelter were nicer, and they were plain, at best. Thinking of the shelter made her remember her friend. Sally would be missing her surely. How long have I been here? But she couldn’t remember, and slowly, she started to cry again.
You’re pathetic – told you he wouldn’t let you go.
‘Where were you? I begged for your help – you said you’d help me, and you never came.’
I’m not dealing with this shit – it’s your mess. You clean it up.
‘It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything.’
Yeah, sure, and the old man didn’t break his hip when you pushed him over, did he? What kind of a person does that? Pushes an old person over? You are crazy, just like all those people said you were.
‘I only did what you told me! He might not have broken anything. It was your fault. Not mine. You hear me? Your fault.’
And then, Cheryl heard nothing – there was absolute silence. She huddled as closed as she could to the door she’d came through, wrapped the blanket around herself and tried to absorb warmth from the furnace on the other side of the door. She let the tears fall until she fell into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
11th December, 2205 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
Jacob
and Ben had left a while ago – Grace had done well staying up so late. It was a good job it wasn’t a school night, though – no way would she have stayed awake that late if she had school the next day. She was a good sleeper and got grumpy if she was up past her bedtime.
TJ grabbed her sleeping bag and locked up the house – she was intending to spend the night in the barn – she didn’t want to miss Domino’s foal being born, and Domino had grown increasingly antsy through the evening. When TJ had checked a few minutes before, Domino had a sheen of sweat showing on her shoulders, a sure sign that it shouldn’t be too long. TJ knew not to interrupt Domino, though – she wasn’t intending on being in the stall with her – it would put the mare off foaling. But she needed to be close by in case anything happened.
The barn was quiet – most of the horses had fallen asleep, and her presence wasn’t acknowledged, except by Domino, who got to her feet and looked over at her balefully.
‘I know, love. It hurts, doesn’t it? I’m just outside – if you need me, just ask.’
Her tone was calm and even – she said the words knowing that the horse would tell her if she needed help. She set up her sleeping bag on a pile of hay and snuggled inside. The sleeping bag was one that had belonged to Jacob when he’d been in the army. She’d borrowed it a few months before, wanting to be fully prepared for when the foal came. It could be used in polar environments, and she knew it would keep her warm. Thinking about the bag reminded her of the way Jacob had come home – it was nearly ten years ago now, but TJ had been terrified he wouldn’t survive. She’d never told him how scared she’d been but she hadn’t left his side whilst he was in hospital. She’d pushed him through his rehab, and eventually, he’d progressed from a wheelchair to walking with crutches, and then finally a walking stick. He’d always need the stick now, but every time she saw him, she was reminded of how different it could have been if he wasn’t the fighter he was. He fought the odds to survive. Said the Tulleys were made of stern stuff.
Settling in for the night, she said that line over in her mind a couple of times. She would be awake for hours – sometimes, the foal was out in minutes, and sometimes, it could take a good half an hour once the waters had broken. And Domino’s waters hadn’t broken as yet.
She heard a thump as Domino settled back onto the ground and rolled around – the movement helped the foal move into the right position to be born. It would be a while yet – she held her mobile in front of her, though, watching from afar. She didn’t want to miss anything.
* * *
12th December, 0110 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
He stood in the stable yard near the entrance to the barn – there was just enough gap that he could see inside the dimly lit building and watch TJ from behind. She didn’t know he was there, and she would have no reason to turn around.
He knew from emailing the council planning department that she had a visit booked for tomorrow. That visit would upset the plans; he had to cancel the whole thing. He needed to make her reschedule – and that involved tying her up dealing with something else so she would forget about them coming to the house.
Moving silently, he opened the tack room door. He knew it would open without a squeak.
He pulled a Stanley knife from his pocket and proceeded to slice through the lead reins and harnesses that hung beside the door. Then, he attacked four of the saddles, causing sufficient damage so that they couldn’t be used. He pulled the can of spray paint from his pocket and paused. What should he write?
It took him a minute or two, but eventually, he started spraying foul words all around the tack room. They weren’t words he would normally use – he had more class than that. But he was using his imagination. All of this would have to be cleaned in the morning – and she’d notice as soon as she left the barn as long as he marked up the exterior of the door too.
It felt childish to be using spray paint – he wasn’t like that in any way, but that was all to the good. No one would suspect him. All he had to do in the morning was be on the main driveway when the council arrived and advise them of an emergency at the stables. TJ would think they hadn’t shown up, and she’d have to run in hoops trying to contact them to rearrange – but not before she’d have to sort out the insurance for the damaged items. The council would be pissed off at coming out and being turned away, so would be unlikely to want to reschedule straight away. It was all part of his plan. They’d then receive official written notification that she didn’t want to go ahead, with her signature and everything. They’d close the application down and think TJ was a crank when she tried to reopen the file.
He used the Stanley knife to cut through the ropes and a couple of the bridles. And as quietly as he’d entered, he left and closed the door. Using the spray paint again, he marked up the door and strode towards the main path to the house.
The horses in the individual stalls nickered quietly amongst themselves. They weren’t used to someone being in the yard at that time of night. But he knew that even if TJ heard them, she wouldn’t leave the barn. The birth of a foal was important.
As he reached the fork in the path, he veered off and made his way to the clearing in the woods. He didn’t need a torch – knew the way off by heart and rarely tripped over anything on the ground beneath the trees.
He paid no heed to the loud scuffling to his left – too loud for a rabbit or hedgehog. It was probably a badger or fox. But whatever it was, it wouldn’t come anywhere near him.
Finally, he reached the clearing – the clouds had parted, and the moon and stars were shining, indicating the impending frost with the clearness of the night sky. And he felt at peace. Here, in the place where his treasures lay. His Angels. He moved from one to the next, pausing at each virtually invisible mound and giving them his undivided attention for a few minutes. Emotion flooded through him as eventually he reached the last one.
He wanted to dig through, glance at her face again. She had been beautiful. They all were in their own way, but the last one had been stunning. Once, anyway. He’d kept the photo from her purse – it had been the only thing in there and showed her happy and smiling. From how she looked when he’d taken her in, it had probably been taken years before. Back when she’d been happy and carefree, and not addicted to whatever drug had coursed through her veins when he’d taken her.
He smiled in the moonlight. At least being with him had stopped the addiction. And he’d known she’d loved him in her own way. They all loved him.
He held their life in his hands, after all.
5
12th December, 0240 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
TJ shifted in her sleeping bag – the screen on her mobile showed Domino lying on her side with her legs outstretched in front of her. It was time.
TJ stood and stretched gracefully, loosening the tight knots in her shoulders. She shivered as the cold blast in the barn seeped through her thermals and onto her skin. It must be minus three tonight.
She moved quietly to the stable door. Domino’s contractions were strong now, and she could see the pain ripple over her stomach as the mare strained. TJ could see the foal’s legs protruding from the mare. It all looked in order, so she didn’t move to intervene.
A few minutes later, the legs had moved forward further and TJ could just about make out the foal’s head. Domino had positioned herself well – there was plenty of straw padding under her to support the foal when it was delivered.
Domino grunted and squealed a little, the latest contraction obviously causing her pain. The foal’s shoulders rushed forward, rapidly followed by the rest of its body.
Tears pricked TJ’s eyes. It was a beautiful thing to watch – this was only the third time she’d seen a foal born, but this was the best – Domino was her own horse.
She maintained distance as the mare cleaned the foal down, and TJ couldn’t help but grin as it struggled to its feet, wobbling and falling over. It eventually managed to stand, with both front legs skewed outwards at a tr
iangle, trying to steady itself with its hind legs. In the wild, it was important that foals were up and ready to run rapidly from any predator that threatened them. It was the same for horses in captivity too – no predators, but the instinct was still there.
TJ knew she now needed to pop into the stall – the vet had recommended tying the placenta under Domino’s uterus so it wasn’t pulled out accidentally. It needed to come out naturally, but that could take some time. Domino had stood moments after the foal had been born, so was in the right position for TJ to assist.
She pulled on her long-armed rubber gloves and stepped into the stall, tying the membranes quickly and turning to leave.
The foal seemed a little confused as to who its mum was, though, and approached TJ from behind, head butting her in the back as it searched for teats that weren’t there. TJ giggled, and turning, she manoeuvred the foal towards Domino’s underbelly.
The foal nudged and pushed at Domino’s belly and eventually found what it was looking for, latching on and making slurping sounds as it took its first meal. TJ took the opportunity to check under the foal to see what sex it was. She smiled widely as she saw it was a girl. She’d have been happy with a colt but was over the moon with a filly.
Domino moved towards the hay bale in the corner and started munching contentedly.
TJ bolted the stall door behind her and snuggled back down into her sleeping bag – she could grab a couple of hours sleep now and then make sure everything was okay with Domino then. She didn’t want to leave the stable – there was still a chance that something could go wrong. And she needed to be there, just in case.
* * *
12th December, 0420 hours – abandoned school near Durham
Cheryl was freezing – the blanket did little to keep her warm, and there was no heat coming from the room next door. She shivered uncontrollably, her teeth chattering together loudly. She’d wet herself again, too, and realised that sitting in the now cold urine would just make her colder. She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled in the darkness to the other side of the tiny room, huddling as tightly as she could into the corner.
Under The Woods: a heart-stopping police thriller (The Forensic Files Book 4) Page 6