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The Sentient Mimic (The Sentient Trilogy Book 2)

Page 7

by Ian Williams


  More worryingly though, among the group were a few he knew straight away were members of the press. They were gathering what they could from the people watching, all of who were risking a fine for breaking the imposed curfew in the city. Not one slip of the tongue was allowed this time. He had let the press ask their questions before, even tried to answer a few, but in the end it had only landed him in trouble. Secrecy had become his main concern, even if it seriously hindered his efforts. His orders were simple; find whoever was responsible for the recent series of murders without alerting the public or the press. Two of his usual avenues for gathering information had been shut off to him.

  He called over one of the uniformed officers. “I want all members of the press escorted away, understood? They cannot be allowed to get anything from possible witnesses.”

  “Yes sir,” the officer replied.

  Before the officer could scurry away Conrad added, “Oh, and perhaps you could remind everyone that the enforced curfew started at 10pm. If they don’t go home now they will all face a hefty fine.” He was getting rather fed up with having to remind citizens of this so often. Anyone caught out after the curfew was in place was breaking the law. This had been a measure brought in for their safety as much as the emergency services’; no-one wanted a repeat of the violence that broke out after losing the relays.

  With his wrist computer raised to head height, Conrad called the Detective Chief Superintendent. He had a lot to tell DCS Chalmers and expected she would be as surprised by their discovery as he and Joe had been. It had not gone unnoticed by his superiors that the case had yet to make any kind of breakthrough. He knew this would satisfy them for a little longer. At least they had something to try. The identity of the unknown man was going to crack the case once and for all.

  When DCS Chalmers answered he went straight in for the kill, ignoring entirely the sleepy state she appeared to be in.

  “We’ve got something here,” he said, before taking a breath. “One of these victims is different to the others. I think the killer has finally fucked up!”

  DCS Chalmers immediately sat up in bed, flicked her loose, shoulder length, black hair out the way and stared through the screen at him. “You’re shitting me?” she replied.

  * * *

  The front door slammed heavily behind, the letterbox rattling its disapproval at their overly enthusiastic entrance. The excitement seemed to bounce off the walls all around them as they tore at each other’s clothing. Buttons popped, sleeves stretched and straps snapped against sensitive skin as the pair desperately gave in to their baser instincts. Lust had clouded otherwise sensible minds, resulting in a contorted and heavily breathing mass, with limbs hugging each other’s bodies as much as they could.

  “Welcome home,” the home management system said, hardly aware of just how preoccupied the pair were with each other.

  With a large collection of clothing now littering the couple’s path, they headed roughly in the direction of the bedroom with only a thin layer of underwear each to hide the rest of their naked flesh. They took the corner into the lounge while continuing their eager caresses. Their lips hardly parted as they ventured past the sofa, her back against their direction of travel and blindly leading the way.

  He delighted in hearing a giggle from his partner as his cold fingers moved to a more sensitive area, yet to be addressed in detail.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Jane said, a gentle push away only to be pulled back for another kiss. “I don’t even know your name? What was it? Garry, Jerry. Or was it Gavin?” she said with another giggle.

  “Seriously, we’re doing this again?” Graham replied, sweeping his hair back into place. His wife had a habit of making jokes that only made him want her more. “Fine, my name is Graham. I fly around the world in my private jet, looking for the perfect woman.”

  Jane spun on the spot and seductively wiggled as she walked away. “Well, Graham, perhaps you’d care to tell me what you have in mind?”

  A flash of heat erupted through Graham the moment he noticed the firmness of her backside. He hopped on the spot, pulling each sock off and throwing them away with little concern.

  However much he loved that Jane was in such good shape, he was positive he would feel just as turned on by her if she chose to live more like him. He loved everything about her and knew he always would. Taking the next step in their relationship was something he looked forward to. They had already decided to call their first child Alex, whether a boy or a girl.

  At the moment his thoughts turned to the future, a shadowy figure no taller than a child wandered by the window to his right. He only caught a glimpse in the corner of his eye before it vanished again. Not yet! he thought with a heavy heart. Another few minutes was all he asked for this time. When nothing changed he continued, and tried his best to put it behind him for the time being.

  He followed Jane into the bedroom and found her lying ready for him, her black and frizzy hair making patterns on the pillow. But rather than race into her embrace, he approached slowly; his best attempt at prolonging the fun for a little longer. Once by the end of the bed, he stroked her feet. She always enjoyed this to set the mood right. When he reached the side of the bed he took a moment to look upon his wife’s supple body, framed perfectly by the purple bra and panties he had bought her that afternoon.

  Times like this would stay with him for years to come.

  Leaning on the bed, and feeling his weight shift the mattress beneath him, he bent down and kissed Jane on the forehead. She looked up at him and whispered, “Close the curtains first,” she said, giving her usual shyness away.

  Damn, why didn’t I remember to do that? He knew full well how she felt about any chance of people seeing their ‘alone time’. Considering the Mag-Lev line that passed by their apartment sat at the same height and was constantly busy, it was not such an unusual request really. He still found the idea of inadvertently shocking someone on their way home funny, even if Jane did not.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” he said with a cheeky smile. He wandered over to the window, with a jokey wiggle of his own, and gripped the curtains. Then, when he pulled them closed, the world vanished suddenly.

  Graham was not surprised, but rather disappointed.

  He held his breath while the water surrounded his body and brought with it a familiar chill. The bubbles filled his view as he moved through the water at speed. Others in the pool would of course see he was just showing off – they always did when he decided to dive straight in. They would then roll their eyes at the sight of him proving his rugged manliness.

  With a kick and a splash, he swam beneath the surface as far as he could, before the inconvenience of breathing forced him back up again. Being far more buoyant than he would otherwise have liked to be meant he could never stay under the water as long as he wanted.

  He surfaced and ran his hands over his eyes to clear away the water. Immediately he felt the warmth beaming down from above. The Newquay weather was a welcome change to that of New Chelmsford, which sat beneath a cold depression while they basked in the heat. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds were almost entirely gone, with only a faint wisp of white here and there.

  Graham looked about him to see families enjoying themselves in and around the pool, and thought about his own, which was only months away from adding another to its numbers. He spotted his heavily pregnant wife soon enough. She sat in her bathing suit, reading a book on her tablet computer through dark glasses. She stayed a few rows back to avoid being splashed by excited children nearby. Her sun lounger was positioned facing the sun for maximum coverage, but an overly large hat did its best to keep it off her head.

  He left the pool and headed over. She was completely engrossed in whatever book she had moved on to; her restlessness had made her fussier than usual about what to read. When he knelt beside her and placed a hand upon her extended stomach, she jumped.

  “Sorry, Honey, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, removing his hand t
emporarily.

  “Enjoy your swim?” she replied, a warm smile sweeping gracefully across her face.

  “Yeah, not bad. So what do you fancy doing? Your choice?”

  Jane placed the tablet down on her lap and thought over their options. She looked across the pool for a second or two, until suddenly something had come to mind. Removing her glasses first, she sat forward and took his hand.

  “I could really use a massage. What do you say?”

  He could hardly say no, despite hating the idea of having someone he did not know rubbing oils into his muscles.

  “Sure, sounds fun,” he said.

  After helping Jane to her feet and packing their things into a small bag, Graham slapped his wrist screen to his arm and tapped at the options. While they walked away from the pool he booked the earliest available massage slot. They still had an hour to kill before then, so they returned to their room to get ready.

  With Jane in the bathroom he took a moment to take in the view of the Cornish coast. This was what he had really paid the money to appreciate for the week. It had been a last minute trip, organised for Jane’s sake more than his – not that he was complaining. With raised areas of green grass either side of Mawgan Porth Beach, which their hotel overlooked, and an almost endless stretch of warm sand to explore, he was more than relaxed, he was at peace. Jane deserved it more than he did though. After all, she was carrying their first child.

  As he caught the sight of a surfer out in the water, cresting a large wave – the kind the area was famed for – he considered his calm state. He knew it was all due to vanish once more. The problem was that each time he got close to realising something, he immediately switched to another scene.

  Why would this time be any different?

  He somehow sensed that it had happened once or twice before, maybe more. He could not actually remember those previous moments though. There had been times when he had stayed around longer than expected, he was certain of it. He just could not put a finger on exactly what it was he was feeling, like an itch he struggled to reach. All he could say for sure was that occasionally it had felt strange. Like he did not belong there.

  “What time’s dinner served again?” Jane called from the bathroom.

  Rather than reply, he remained staring out the window at the many surfers out for a thrill. It took him a few seconds to see what else the view had in store. He was there long enough this time to see something out of place. The itch had moved to the centre of his mind, exactly where he needed in order to do something about it. This time he intended to scratch the shit out of this particular annoyance too. Once and for all.

  “Alex! Get out of here, right this instance,” he said to the figure stood a few metres away, on the other side of the glass.

  “What was that, Babe?” Jane said after switching the shower on. The pitter-patter of water disturbed the calmness of the room like an unexpected rain storm. Except the dark clouds had descended over Graham already.

  In confusion he backed away, until he felt the bed against his thighs. This was all wrong. Alex had not been born yet. She was spoiling everything. He and Jane did not even know they were having a girl at that point. Still the little girl he had raised was there with them somehow.

  Why was she misbehaving like this?

  Rather than continue playing along, he left Jane in their room and raced for the exit. If it had all been another moment of madness, then the girl would turn out to be someone else’s and would look only similar to his own daughter. If not, then he would be sure to give her a proper telling off this time.

  Back out by the pool, he took the corner of the hotel and wandered around to the front courtyard overlooking the beach below. There he found the girl standing in place still. She stood waiting as if she was expecting him to arrive. It was irrefutably Alex, his six year old daughter that was not due to be born for another few months.

  “Alex?” he asked tentatively. His mind had all but lost a grip on reality now. Talking to her was another step closer to insanity.

  “Hello Daddy?” she replied without a glimmer of doubt.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? You shouldn’t be here.”

  Alex pointed to her right to something out to sea. “Neither should you, Daddy” she said.

  Following her direction, Graham looked out to the horizon and saw it. Where the sea met the sky, a strange shadow appeared to interrupt the natural line. Everything else looked normal; the surfers were still snapping their boards around at the peak of a wave, the sunbathers were still lining the sand away from the water, even the birds above seemed completely ordinary as they circled high above and searched for food to steal.

  But for Graham the view was suddenly less believable.

  His heart sank. He could not understand why Alex was so intent on ruining it for him. She always kept her distance before, she certainly never interfered like this. For some reason she was no longer content with that arrangement.

  A wave of questions hit him, mentally wiping him out like the surfers in the distance. He could not breathe, the shock had hit him hard. Is this what a panic attack feels like? he thought as his lungs tightened. Then, as with so many other scenes, and before he could ask her a single question, everything changed once more.

  He was not surprised, though a little disappointed.

  Chapter 4

  No time to heal

  10am, Thursday: 38 hours until Switchover

  Phoenix and Elliot had returned home around half past midnight, and gone straight to bed. Their drive had been a quiet one, as she had expected. Elliot’s run-in with the guard left him with little to say, and she could sympathise. The emotional turmoil he must have been feeling over his actions would take a while to overcome. Her own painful struggle with the same ups followed by sudden and devastating downs had shown her that.

  It had been hard for her too, after two of the three occasions when she had been forced to kill at least. The last time her target had been Anthony. She would never regret killing him. He had well and truly deserved it, which removed any lingering guilt entirely. She still tried her best to forget the look upon his bloodied face as she had pulled the trigger.

  In her small single room at the back of the house – the same one she lived in as a child – Phoenix had lay awake until sometime after two in the morning, when she finally dozed off. Her mind rarely shut-off easily at night and it often kept her alert well into the early hours. Sleep was something she had to fight for each night now. There were no D-Stims to rely on anymore, what with the man who once produced the drug currently living under the same roof as her – Stephen could not remember how he made it anyway. Without such help her nights were all long and frustrating.

  When morning arrived it was announced not with birdsong but with a headache; the curtains were letting in far too much light. Plus the repetitive back-and-forth creaking sound from outside had made her cranky before even opening her eyes. Her one tiny crumb of comfort was to know that at least the night had finally passed.

  She checked the clock and saw the time was ten-fifteen. She had overslept. The little adventure she and Elliot had taken had tired her out. Still, the day ahead was one she expected would be interesting – even if tainted by her heavy head. All during the night she had thought over what she wanted to ask the mystery man when he finally awoke from his own slumber. Unfortunately, a lack of good sleep had left her questions confused and jumbled.

  So after a quick wash, she threw on the previous day’s clothes, spiked up the middle of her hair – blonde now, but still roughly a Mohican in style – and then slowly walked down the stairs. Turning the corner, she quickly aimed for the kitchen. She found the source of the noise that had dragged her out of a deep sleep by looking through the window. Outside she could see Alex swinging on the tyre that hung from the small tree out back. She had memories of doing exactly the same thing with her brothers. Except she remembered it making her feel much happier than Alex looked.

  H
er quick breakfast comprised of half a slice of toast, which one of the others had left unfinished, and a small bowl of cereal. She was then ready to address the first order of business; checking Alex was OK. The glazed-over stare she noticed was not one she liked to see.

  “Hey Kiddo, whatcha doing?” she asked, pushing the half-open door the rest of the way and stepping outside. She licked the jam and butter off her fingers. The amount of both that had been heaped upon the toast suggested it was Stephen’s leftovers. His sweet tooth had become legendary during their time there.

  Alex smiled the second she saw Phoenix coming. She then leaned back into her swings and attempted to gain height.

  “You OK?”

  “Sure,” Alex replied, with a quick exhalation as the swing reached its peak.

  “Where is everyone? Seems a little quiet.”

  “You slept in, no-one wanted to wake you up. I think they’re all talking to that man. They sent me out here while they talked.”

  “You’re kidding.” Phoenix was furious. She wanted to be there the second he woke up. Her questions had been written and vetted multiple times in her head during the night. The right amount of pressure was going to be needed if they had any hope of getting information from him. The others had no experience in such things.

  She turned to walk quickly back to the house.

  “Where are you going?” Alex said. She let the swing slow to a stop, its creaking too.

  “Sorry Alex, I need to stop the others before they tell him everything about us.”

  Back in the kitchen she did not stop to say hello to Stephen, who appeared to be looking for something. She realised the toast she had eaten was probably his lost item; he obviously just remembered leaving it. She went straight on into the lounge only to see it was empty.

  Where were the rest of them?

  When she heard the front door open she raced to it to see who it was. She came face to face with Jane and Ruth, both looking shocked to see her up.

 

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