by Amy Cross
“Do you know where I can find Charmian Bell?”
Michael stared at him for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally.
“I tried her flat, but she didn't answer. Perhaps she's out with her daughter?”
“Her...” Michael paused. “Yes, she has a daughter, doesn't she?” He looked away for a few seconds, as if his mind was racing. “Loose ends...”
“So where can I find them?”
“I just have to finish a few things,” Michael climbed down from the side of the bin and made his way over to the doctor. “I'm sorry,” he continued, forcing a smile, “it's been a very busy day. Plumbing trouble, you know? I was up on the roof a lot, trying to get it fixed, but right now I'm a little lost. Between that and the need to give the hallways a fresh lick of paint, I never get time for anything else.”
“I'm sure it can be difficult to keep a place like this running.”
“Very difficult.” He glanced over at the fence as another train passed. “Did you really come all the way down here just because you're worried about one patient?”
“It's a little more than that,” the doctor replied. “The truth is, I've been trying to lay eyes on Charmian's daughter for a while, to check up on her, but the woman has steadfastly refused to bring her to my surgery. I know I should just tick the appropriate boxes and get on with things, but when a child's health is in danger, the situation is a little different. In all good conscience, I can't stand back and do nothing, so I feel that a home visit is my only option.” He paused. “Obviously I can't go into detail, but... You haven't seen Charmian Bell's daughter Beth around, have you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Humor me.”
Michael stared at him for a moment. “To be honest,” he said finally, “I lose track of who I do and don't see. I can tell you who I saw this morning, which is basically no-one, but apart from that I'm kind of at a loss.”
“It's very important that I speak to Charmian,” Doctor Rogers continued. “I canceled a number of appointments so I could come here tonight.”
“That's very diligent of you.”
“There are still some of us left in the health profession who actually care about our patients. I could get the police involved, of course, but once you start that particular ball rolling, things rapidly become official and she could end up losing the child. I'm hoping to just check up on the little girl and make sure she's okay, she seems -” He caught himself just in time. “Well, patient confidentiality and all that. If you could just let me know where you think I could find them, I'll be out of your hair. Is there a park nearby, perhaps?”
Michael shook his head.
“Where would they be at such a late hour? Is there a community center or a playground in the area?”
“Nothing, sorry,” Michael replied. “I've always thought there should be a playground here, but I guess there's no money for that kind of thing.”
“Okay,” Doctor Rogers continued, evidently feeling a little frustrated by Michael's evasiveness, “so where can I find them?”
“I really didn't expect anyone to come around tonight,” Michael replied. “You certainly picked a busy time to just pop in like this.”
“We both seem to be busy men, so perhaps you can let me know where to find them and I'll leave you to get on with your work.”
“I suppose the girl's still in the flat,” Michael continued, looking up at the side of the building. “I should have thought of that, but there's been so much to do.”
“I knocked on the door. No-one answered.”
“Maybe she's a good little girl and she knows not to answer when strangers are outside.” Michael paused for a moment, before turning to him. “You know what? I'm being very rude, aren't I? Why don't you come to my office and I guarantee I can help you find Charmian Bell.” Forcing a smile, he reached into his pocket and once again felt the edge of the knife.
***
“Don't you remember what it was like?” Toby asked, as he led Beth along the walkway. “I remember. Before I broke back through the barrier, I was in the dark place, the place where the dead go.”
Beth walked silently next to him. She hadn't spoken for several minutes; instead, she was trying to understand everything he was telling her, and she still hadn't quite accepted that she was dead. As they stopped at the end of the walkway, she began to pinch her arm, and as the pain built and built she told herself that if she was truly dead, nothing would hurt.
Gasping, she let go of the skin and saw that it was a little red.
“I remember the darkness,” Toby continued, staring at her intently. “The whole place was black and gray, with just enough light to see the tops of their heads. I remember everyone was separated from their bodies. My mind was in one place, and I could see my body down below, stumbling aimlessly among all the others as if it was lost. I knew that if I was going to get through the barrier and come back here, I had to get into my body again. It wasn't easy, especially with all the other people screaming and moaning, but I found a way and then when the barrier was at its weakest I slipped past everyone else and...”
He paused for a moment, as if he was reliving that moment.
“I ran back to my parents' flat,” he continued finally, “and I knocked on the door, but they were gone. I found out that six months had passed since my death, and they'd moved away. I cried so much, sitting in the walkways, but no-one else could see me. People just walked past, not even looking in my direction when I called out to them. I spent months just crying and begging someone to notice me, and then one day...”
Beth stared out at the city's dark landscape for a moment, before turning to him.
“You were crying,” she said finally, “the first day I met you.”
“I couldn't believe someone could see me,” he replied. “At first I thought you must be dead like me, but then I realized you weren't, at least not then. You just seemed more in tune with the world around you. After a while, I even forgot what had happened to me. I guess it was too tempting to let myself believe that I was normal again, but then the other day, when I was trapped in flat 313, Jennifer Hathaway made me see it again. She's scared. She knows who's coming through the barrier next.”
“Who?” Beth asked.
“Her father. He was a very bad man.” He paused for a moment, before suddenly starting to climb up onto the walkway's ledge. “Come up.”
“What are you doing?”
“Come up and join me. I want to show you something.”
Leaning over the edge of the walkway, she saw that they were at least fifty meters above the courtyard below.
“Don't be scared,” he continued, holding out his hand. “You're already dead, Beth, even if you don't accept it. Nothing bad can happen to you.”
“I want to go and find my mum,” she told him.
“Don't be a baby. Your mother's gone now, she's on the other side of the barrier and she might never get back. You've got me, though. We can be friends forever, we don't have to grow up.”
“You're wrong,” she replied, fighting to hold back tears. “My mum isn't dead and neither am I.”
“You both are,” he continued, “and I'll prove it. Just come up here with me.”
Staring at his hand for a moment, she finally began to climb up, until she was standing on the railing with nothing in front of her except a steep drop down to the courtyard below. A cold wind rippled against her dress as she stared out at the vastness of the dark city, and all the lights seemed to be watching her. In the distance, beyond the sirens and the sound of traffic, there was another sound: the faint moan that Toby had told her about earlier. Now he'd pointed it out to her, she couldn't believe that there had ever been a time when she wasn't aware.
“When I count to three,” Toby continued, “we'll jump.”
She shook her head.
“I'm going to prove to you that you're dead,” he told her. “Then you'll understand.”
“I'm not dead,” she whispered, feelin
g a little dizzy as she stared down at the concrete far below.
“Yes you are,” he replied, taking her hand in his. “You'll see in a moment. Are you ready?”
She shook her head again.
“One,” he continued.
“I'm not jumping.”
“Two.”
“Toby, please -”
“Three.” With that, he stepped forward, pulling on her hand and trying to drag her with him. At the last moment, his fingers seemed to slip through hers.
“No!” she shouted, trying to turn but losing her footing and dropping down. She landed hard on her chest, but at the last second she was able to grab hold of the railing and haul herself back over, landing hard on the walkway's concrete floor. Gasping for breath as she felt a sharp pain where she'd hit the railing, she began to sit up, only to find that Toby was somehow standing next to her.
“Why didn't you jump?” he asked, with a hint of anger in his voice.
“I'm not dead,” she whispered, as tears ran down her cheeks.
“You are!”
Holding up her hand, she saw that she'd grazed the skin. Beads of blood ran down to her wrist, and after a moment she licked the blood away to check that it was real.
“When we're both dead,” Toby continued, “we can play forever. Don't you get it?” He held his hand out to her again. “Let's try one more time. Don't you want to play forever?”
“I'm not dead,” she said firmly, getting to her feet. “If I was dead, my hand wouldn't hurt!”
“Don't be an idiot, Beth.”
“You just want me to jump because then I really will be dead,” she continued, taking a step back. “You're trying to make me like you!”
“It's not so bad,” he continued, stepping toward her. “You get to play forever, but it's only fun if you have someone to play with. I don't want to be lonely. Please, let's try again -”
He reached out to her.
“No!” she shouted, turning and running along the walkway. She raced down the stairwell, but when she got to the next floor she found Toby waiting for her. Slipping past him, she headed down to the next level and then the next, before finally spinning through the door at the bottom and finding herself in the lobby. Racing toward the main door, she stopped suddenly as she saw Toby standing outside, as if he was still waiting for her. She turned back and looked across the foyer, before running over to the door that led into the building manager's office. Finding no-one inside, she glanced around for a moment before hurrying past the desk and crawling behind the table at the far end of the room, where painting sheets provided some degree of privacy.
She waited, trembling with fear, convinced that Toby would find her at any moment.
As the minutes passed, she began to wonder if she'd managed to avoid being seen. Peering out past the edge of one of the sheets, she watched the door but saw no sign of Toby, although a moment later she realized she could hear voices outside the room. She listened as the voices came closer, and finally she saw the building manager entering the room, with an older man right behind him.
“I appreciate your help,” the older man said. “I'm starting to worry about Miss Bell and her daughter.”
“I understand entirely,” Michael replied. “Just let me grab some details from the filing cabinet.”
Beth pulled back slightly to make sure that she wouldn't be spotted. She watched as the older man made his way to the far wall and examined a framed certificate hanging next to the bookcase.
“You're a Cambridge fellow, I see,” the man said after a moment.
“For my sins,” Michael replied. Beth watched as he made his way over to the older man. “I studied Criminal History. It was fascinating, looking into the lives of some of this country's most notorious criminals.” He paused for a moment. “My time there didn't end too well, though. I started some postgraduate research into the greatest serial killer in British history, but no-one there accepted that he was real. They told me Ellis Hathaway was a figment of my imagination.”
“Ellis Hathaway? Never heard of him.”
“No-one has. He was so good and so smart, he slipped into the cracks. Even the local police didn't know about him until it was too late. I managed to put together proof, to show that he existed, but I was laughed out of the university and eventually I gave up and decided to conduct some more direct research. Actually, that's how I ended up here. I was lucky that the building manager's job was going, so I managed to get hired. At first I thought I'd stick around for just a few months, but then...” He paused for a moment. “Hearing those trains going past all day and all night, and feeling the vibrations in the building, something seemed to change. I came up with a better idea, although sometimes I think back to the way I used to be and I wonder how I managed to change so much.”
“And how did -”
Beth watched as Michael reached around and slashed the older man's throat. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw him pull the older man back and clamp a hand over his mouth, holding his struggling body firmly for a moment as blood flowed down onto the floor. As the old man's struggle began to fade, Michael eased him down and then took a step back, with a blood-stained knife in his hand. A few more gasps came from the twitching body on the floor, before finally the old man fell still.
Holding her breath, Beth couldn't help staring. She wanted to cry out, to scream for help, but she knew she couldn't let Michael know she'd just seen him kill the other man. As she began to sob, she held her hand over her mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet.
“Ellis Hathaway,” Michael said finally, still looking down at the dead body, “was the greatest serial killer this country, maybe even this world, has ever known. And the best part is, he's coming back tonight.”
***
Rose grunted as she dropped the necklace for what felt like the hundredth time. Scrabbling to find it again, she was finally able to get back to work, slowly wearing down the rope. She'd been struggling to get free for a few hours already, but since she was unable to see her progress, all she could do was hope that somehow she'd soon manage to break free.
“Please,” she whispered, “please, please, please...”
And then she heard it.
She froze, listening to the sound of the rain as it fell outside. There was something else, too.
Footsteps.
Keeping hold of the necklace, she rolled across the floor until she reached the far wall, and then she waited, listening as the footsteps approached the door. Holding her breath, she tried to keep from shivering with fear, and finally she heard the door creaking open, followed by the sound of something being dragged across the wooden floor.
“I brought another one for you,” Michael said, dropping something heavy. “Such a waste. I hate when I have to kill them like this. They're no use to me dead.”
Rose stayed completely still, desperately hoping that he'd leave again so that she could get back to work. Holding her breath, she listened to the silence for a moment, and finally she heard the floorboards creak.
“Are you awake?” Michael asked, his voice sounding a little closer.
A moment later, she heard him making his way toward her, and then he used one foot to gently nudge her in the small of the back. When she didn't respond, he nudged her again.
“Hey, are you awake down there?”
Figuring that she shouldn't arouse his suspicion, she rolled onto her back and looked up into the darkness. A second later, the light of a torch flicked into life, almost blinding her and forcing her to close her eyes.
“I was starting to worry that you'd conked out on me,” he said with a forced smile. “I've got a really good feeling about tonight, Rose. I think this might finally be the night when Ellis comes through. I've been trying to attract his attention and now I think it's worked.”
“Ellis?” she whispered.
“Not long now,” he continued, switching the torch off before turning and making his way back across the room.
Looking ove
r at the bodies, Rose blinked a few times, trying to clear the light-spots in her eyes. Finally she began to get used to the gloom again, and she realized that there was now a fifth corpse: an older man had been added to the pile, and his dead eyes were staring almost directly at her as Michael stepped outside and swung the door shut, once again leaving the room in darkness.
Rose stayed completely still, listening to the footsteps as they headed away. Once she was certain that Michael was gone, she began to work on the rope once more, cutting as fast as possible while still not managing to see whether she was making any progress. The rope felt as tight as ever, but she was convinced that eventually she'd wear away enough of the material. Pulling again on the bonds between her wrists, she tried with all her strength to get loose, but panic was starting to grip her soul now and as she continued to cut with the necklace, her hands were trembling more and more.
Three
Sitting alone in his office, Michael stared at the clock on his desk. He hadn't moved for a couple of hours now, preferring to just sit and watch as the second hand ticked round and the other hands, slower but still in motion, continued their journey.
Finally the clock ticked over to midnight.
He took a deep breath, before getting to his feet. Heading past the painting equipment he'd laid out on one of the old benches, he made his way to the door.
Still hiding under the table, Beth squeezed her eyes tight shut and – without moving her lips – continued to pray for her mother to come and save her.