Wraith

by Shane Smithers

  James inspected every nook and cranny in the study. ‘Nothing,’ he muttered, pulling out the hundredth book, hoping it would open a secret passageway or reveal a hidden safe.

  A grandfather clock in the hall chimed five. Half an hour had just whizzed by – time was running out. Aureole mustn’t have found the SAFFIRE either, or she would have been here by now. Their chances of finding it were growing slimmer by the minute. The house was so big it could take days to search, but they didn’t have days; they didn’t even have hours. They’d have to be gone before sunrise.

  Aureole was right, he thought to himself, sniffing the air again when he was out in the hall. There is a funny burnt smell. He gave a shrug and went to search several more rooms with no success. Then he noticed a plain white door at the end of the hall. It seemed out of character with the rest of the house. It was nothing fancy, no ornate door handle. Maybe this was the hidden room he’d been hoping for. He turned the knob and gently pushed the door inwards. It creaked as it swung open.

  Gaudy’s Jewellery Shop, Adelaide, South Australia

  There was a police cordon keeping pedestrians away from the crime scene. Gaudy’s Jewellery store was bathed in flashing lights and trampled by men in blue uniforms. The sky was growing lighter by the minute as Cirro circled overhead looking for a place to set down. He needed to find a place quickly. It had to be close enough to allow his sensors to scan the area, search the CCTV and monitor the police, who might have clues to the children’s whereabouts. A flat roof overlooking the scene seemed an appropriate site and so he set the hopper down.

  ‘I want to see the CCTV for the jewellery store,’ he said to Angie.

  ‘The system has been disabled for two hours.’

  ‘Can I see footage from the last twenty-four hours?’ Angie was silent for a moment and then said, ‘There is footage inside the shop from 9 a.m. till 6 p.m.’

  ‘Let me see it.’ A grainy image of a shop assistant and a balding man in a suit appeared. ‘Fast forward.’ The footage sped up and the man and woman raced around the shop, back and forth, polishing, cleaning and arranging the jewels. A customer, a middle aged woman, entered, looked at various things and left. Several other customers came and went. ‘Freeze that frame,’ ordered Cirro as a man entered. Cirro squinted at the face for a moment, frowned, then said, ‘Continue.’ The man on screen chatted to the female shop assistant and then left. A time lapse of ten minutes passed and then James and Aureole entered. Cirro watched on, his mouth a grim line. ‘That’s enough. Download and then erase the data from its storage facility.’

  SIXTY-TWO

  Marino, South Australia

  ‘Damn, it’s just the laundry,’ said James, eyeing the dirty clothes on the floor. He bent down and searched a few pockets in case he found another receipt. At home, his mum always complained that he and his father never cleaned out their pockets before a wash – his homework sheets were a frequent victim.

  He was just about to scoop up another pair of trousers when he heard a hissing noise somewhere above him. He looked up and saw a ball of black fur hurtling toward him. There was no time to react, so he just closed his eyes and grimaced. The feline landed on his face with all eighteen claws extended; his scream was muffled by the cat’s furry belly. A tug of war broke out between the two – the cat was winning. Blinded, James tripped over the laundry basket and smashed into the washing machine. He tried pulling on the cat’s tail, but that only made it hiss louder and cling on tighter. He could feel blood starting to trickle down his face when the cat released its death grip. It dropped to the floor and darted out the door. James reached out a hand to steady himself, the room spinning. He coughed several times, positive he had swallowed mouthfuls of fur.

  ‘Crazy bloody cat,’ he muttered as he staggered from the laundry, desperate for a drink of water. He eyed the laundry. Who knew what else might be lurking in there? The kitchen was a better option. He guessed it must be at the back of the house, since he’d searched most of the front. He listened for a minute in case someone had overheard his brawl with the cat, and then, satisfied all was safe, began retracing his steps back to the living room. Somewhere he took a wrong turn and ended up in a long corridor, unsure which way to go.

  At the very end of the hall, he noticed an open door to a room with a light on. He crept toward it, trying numerous doors on the way, all of which turned out to be closets. The closer he came to the open doorway, the more the knot in his stomach tightened. Something didn’t feel right. He stopped, held his breath and listened. But the only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart. He was about to continue on his way when a black blur streaked out of the open doorway, over his foot and disappeared down the passageway, hissing as it fled. James grimaced, still smarting from the scratches around his face.

  Either the cat was some kind of possessed psycho . . . or maybe, just maybe, someone was down there. James hugged the wall and inched his way closer. What he saw as he peered around the corner made him catch his breath.

  James wasn’t going to get his drink of water any time soon. Four unconscious bodies – a man, a woman, and two young children – lay, bound and gagged, on the floor of the kitchen. Standing over them were two men. James recognised them instantly. The skinny one was speaking softly to the bald one with the tattoos, who was twisting a piece of rope around in his hands, showing his partner how to make some kind of knot.

  James’s mind raced. He had to get to Aureole, and fast. Slowly, he took a step back and then another . . . and another . . . and – his arm was suddenly twisted behind his back. He let out a muffled cry as a hand covered his mouth.

  ‘And where do you think you’re going?’ whispered a cool voice in his ear. It sent a shiver down James’s spine. ‘I don’t expect you to answer that.’ The man gave him a rough nudge. ‘Move!’

  A stabbing pain surged through James’s trapped arm, forcing him to walk forwards.

  ‘Look what I found lurking in the corridor,’ said the man, shoving James through the doorway.

  ‘Little Goldie Lockes,’ said the skinny one.

  James struggled to break free, writhing and kicking out at the man holding him, but to no avail. The man tightened his grip, and none of James’s kicks connected with him.

  ‘Settle down, James,’ said the man.

  They know who I am, thought James. How? He attempted to bite his captor’s fingers, but his teeth missed their mark.

  ‘Tie him up, but leave his legs. I need him to walk,’ said the man to the bald one with tattoos.

  The bald one turned out to be a master at restraining people. He had James bound and gagged in a matter of seconds.

  The skinny one nudged the woman lying on the floor with his foot. ‘Collins used to work at a rodeo,’ he said to her, ignoring the fact that she was out cold.

  The boss tilted James’s sunglasses back on his head and stared into his eyes, as if searching for something. James stared back defiantly. ‘Where’s the girl?’ said the boss man, his tone menacing.

  James shook his head. He didn’t know how he was supposed to answer with a gag in his mouth, but it didn’t matter. There was no way he would tell them where Aureole was.

  ‘Shall I break his fingers?’ said the skinny one, sounding way too eager.

  The boss man studied James for a few more moments and then said, ‘No.’ Turning to the bald one he continued, ‘You stay here and guard the family.’ Then he looked at the skinny one. ‘Bring the boy . . . the girl’s got to be here somewhere. If he’s down here, she’s probably upstairs.’

  James released a small cry in protest, but it was instantly muted as the skinny one shoved him in the back and said, ‘Move.’

  The three of them made their way down the long hallway.

  ‘If he makes a sound, you know what to do,’ whispered the boss man when they were at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘Oh, please make a sound,’ whispered the skinny one in James’ ear.

  James would have loved to make a sou
nd. He would have screamed, ‘Run, Aureole – RUN!’ But the gag was cutting deep into the corners of his mouth and his arms were already throbbing from the tight ropes.

  At the top of the stairs, they all stopped and listened. The sound of movement, ever so faint, came from the third room on the right. The boss man smiled and gestured to the skinny one. James was forced forward.

  SIXTY-THREE

  Marino, South Australia

  They found Aureole bent over a dressing table, sifting through jewellery. James had to warn her, he didn’t care what they did to him. He moaned loudly through his gag. He expected Aureole to spring into action, to do some crazy attack move, or run at them, screaming, to do anything . . . but she didn’t . . . she didn’t even look up.

  ‘James, stop fooling around. I know the owners are not here. Help me look through this stuff. It has got to be here somewhere.’

  James moaned again with more urgency, only, this time, the skinny one jabbed him with his elbow sharply in the ribs. James couldn’t believe it – she was still ignoring him.

  ‘Looking for this?’ said the boss man, pulling something out of his pocket. He was holding up a necklace with a pendant sparkling golden green.

  Aureole froze, and then spun around to face the strange voice, her jaw dropping when she saw James tied up. ‘Where did you get that?’ she said, eyeing the boss man and then the necklace.

  ‘Let me just say, it’s amazing how effective a little amount of plastic explosive in the hands of an expert can be. The safe just popped open and there it was.’

  That’s why we could smell burnt plastic, thought James.

  ‘Give it to me, it doesn’t belong to you,’ said Aureole, a slight falter in her voice.

  The boss man made a humph sound. ‘Not likely,’ he said. ‘Who are you anyway? James’s girlfriend?’

  James didn’t know why Aureole wanted that necklace, but at the mention of his name, he groaned and tried to twist out of the skinny one’s grip. The skinny one gave him a slap across the side of the head and said, ‘Stop wigglin’, boy.’

  Aureole ignored the boss man’s question, and held out her hand. ‘You need to give me that necklace and let us go.’ She sounded bolder now.

  The boss man laughed softly and slowly shook his head. ‘Give you the SAFFIRE . . . I don’t think so.’

  Aureole gasped at the mention of the SAFFIRE and retracted her hand. ‘H-how do you know what it is called?’

  At this point James became totally confused. What are they talking about? That isn’t the SAFFIRE . . . it’s too small. Maybe Aureole’s trying to trick him. Yeah, that’s it . . . Aureole’s planning something.

  ‘I know a lot of things,’ replied the boss man, carefully placing the necklace back in his pocket. ‘I’m good at getting what I want. Isn’t that right, Wilson?’

  Wilson nodded.

  The skinny one’s name is Wilson . . . Yeah, he looks like a Wilson, thought James.

  ‘Now,’ said the boss man, ‘seeing I have your boyfriend here, all tied up, how about you come quietly, like a good little girl?’

  James shook his head vigorously and gave a muffled cry of, ‘Run!’

  ‘I’m sick of your cheek, Goldie Lockes,’ snarled Wilson, shoving James face down on the floor.

  Aureole took a few steps backwards. Wilson lunged for her arm, but she blurred, causing him to miss her completely. ‘What the . . .’ he cried, as he set upon her once more, only to miss again.

  James tried to get to his knees, but the boss man kept pushing him back down with his foot.

  ‘Come on, Wilson, you can do better than that. She’s only a girl.’ The boss man looked amused.

  Panting and confused, Wilson stopped and just glared at her. Aureole made a rush for the door.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ said the boss man, reaching out and latching firmly on to Aureole’s blurry body.

  She let out a yelp. She didn’t appear to be in pain but rather in shock; the boss man’s arm was blurry, just like hers. ‘Who are you?’ she said in a terrified whisper.

  ‘I’m someone just like you,’ said the boss man.

  Wilson and James had frozen, awestruck.

  ‘B-but your eyes,’ said Aureole.

  ‘Amazing things, contact lenses . . . help me blend in remarkably well. You on the other hand look like every Azurien girl I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘You are an Azurien?’ cried Aureole. ‘Why? Why would you want to steal the SAFFIRE? It is going to help the world. Why would you want to stop that?’

  ‘Maybe the world doesn’t deserve help,’ said the boss man. ‘Wilson, grab the boy, it’s time to go.’ They marched them back to the kitchen.

  In the meantime, the bald one had made a platefull of cucumber sandwiches, cut up into neat triangles.

  ‘How thoughtful,’ said Wilson, sticking three in his mouth at once.

  ‘Tie her up,’ the boss man ordered the bald one.

  ‘Won’t she just melt through the ropes or somethin’?’ asked Wilson, bits of cucumber flying in all directions as he spoke.

  ‘No, it only works on living things. She’s harmless,’ said the boss man. Once Aureole was secure, he instructed the bald one to go and retrieve the car.

  ‘What are we gonna do with all these witnesses?’ growled Wilson, playing the scary crim now that the bald one had left.

  The boss man prodded the unconscious father with his foot. ‘The family didn’t see us, so I don’t think they’ll cause us any grief,’ he said. ‘Just take the kids.’

  Wilson picked up one of the unconscious children and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  ‘Not those kids, you imbecile. James and the girl.’

  ‘Right . . . I knew that. Just wanted to see how heavy that kid was, that’s all.’ Wilson carefully laid the child back on the floor and then turned to James and Aureole. ‘All right you two, get goin’.’ James and Aureole looked helplessly at each other. ‘Move!’ barked Wilson.

  Outside, the sky had lightened, but to James’s dismay there was no one around: no early morning joggers or people walking their dogs. He and Aureole couldn’t rely on someone else helping them. They were on their own. Their best chance was to escape before the bald one returned with the car.

  When the boss man left Wilson guarding them near the house, to see what was taking Collins so long with the car, James knew this was their chance. James used his eyes to tell Aureole he was going to run one way and that she should run the other. Aureole gave a slight nod of her head and then stamped savagely on Wilson’s foot. Reefing his arms from Wilson’s grip, James ran for his life; Aureole darted in the opposite direction.

  ‘Boss, they’re getting away,’ screamed Wilson.

  ‘Get the boy! I’ll get the girl,’ said the boss man as he ran back toward the house.

  James found out that it was hard to run with your hands tied behind your back, and the gag made it almost impossible to breathe. Wilson gained ground and was nearly within arm’s length. James had no choice but to fly, but when he tried to take off, nothing happened. The lack of oxygen was making him light-headed – he couldn’t focus. Wilson dived, latching onto James’ legs. James fell forward, hitting his head heavily on the ground, knocked senseless. The last thing he saw was the boss man an arm’s length from Aureole and then everything went black.

  ~

  Erebus caught Aureole easily. She tried to scream, but he covered her mouth with his hand. ‘Don’t be foolish,’ he growled in her ear.

  Collins arrived moments later and Erebus bundled Aureole into the rear of the station wagon, tied her legs and stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth. The boy, looking groggy and cross-eyed, was still lying where Wilson had tackled him.

  ‘I’m gonna need help carryin’ this one,’ said Wilson, waving Collins over.

  Erebus had lost some of his cool. ‘He’s going to be too much trouble. Just get rid of him,’ he said angrily. ‘We don’t need him. We’ve got the SAFFIRE. And the girl might co
me in handy if NIB come after us.’

  Wilson gave a nod. ‘You grab his shoulders, I’ll take his legs,’ he said to Collins. They lifted James and started round the back.

  A few seconds later . . .

  Wilson groaned and dropped the boy’s legs, rubbing his lower back. ‘Growin’ teenagers. Why do they have to be so heavy?’

  Collins continued dragging the boy around to the back of the house and Wilson followed, still moaning.

  When Collins stopped, Wilson asked, ‘What are we gonna do with him?’

  Collins pointed to the cliff edge.

  ‘I guess that’s better than breakin’ his neck,’ said Wilson. ‘And the noise it makes . . . makes me shiver, just thinkin’ about it.’

  Collins set James down centimetres from the edge. Wilson put his foot on James side ready to push him over, but then hesitated. A few small rocks broke away from the cliff, bounced a couple of times and then sailed gracefully into the foamy green sea a hundred metres below.

  ‘I don’t remember this in the job description, do you? You know . . . killin’ kids,’ said Wilson.

  Collins grunted, and with the tiniest movement, shook his head. Sweat was dripping off him in copious amounts.

  ‘How about we just leave him here? He can’t do no harm,’ suggested Wilson, looking down at James.

  Collins wiped his brow with a handkerchief and nodded his agreement.

  Barely had the pair turned and walked a few metres, than they heard a noise behind them. Wilson turned, just in time to see James struggle to his feet, lose his footing and fall backwards off the cliff.

  ‘Oops,’ said Wilson, looking wide-eyed at Collins.