‘Hey, I’m talking to you.’
Mason was looking at a black man, around the age of thirty, wearing what appeared to be basketball gear. There was a threatening look in the man’s eye, but he was alone, and Mason thought that he could take him if he had to. ‘What do you want?’
‘Give me a couple bucks.’
‘No.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because you didn’t say please.’
The man tilted his head back slightly and looked down his nose at Mason. ‘Ha. Fine then, please give me a couple bucks.’
‘No.’
The man looked startled. ‘Why the hell not, whitebread?’
‘Because you didn’t say please the first time.’
‘Forget you.’ He stormed off, waving a hand.
The rain trickled from the sky, and a low grumble set in. Mason watched the man walking away, and then a thought occurred to him. ‘Hey.’
‘What?’ he spun around, hopeful.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Jackson. What’s it to you?’
‘How about you earn…’ Mason got out his wallet, flicked through the notes and held them out with an offering hand. ‘Forty-eight dollars?’
Jackson looked at the money with scepticism, as if he were being tricked. ‘I ain’t sucking no dick.’
‘What the… No, I don’t want that either.’ Mason waved a hand and pointed at the building. ‘Come here and look at this.’
Reluctantly, Jackson stepped forward and snapped for the cash. Stuffing it into his shorts, he followed Mason’s finger with his eyes, studying the building in front of him. It looked like the kind of place where homeless people might hide away, keeping warm in the colder months.
‘I’m going into this building. All I want you to do is wait here. You got a cell phone?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Right. If anybody comes out – anyone other than me – I want you to get a good, clear photo of whoever it is. Even if it’s five different people, all right? Just snap away until your thumb bleeds. Got it?’
‘Sure, man.’
‘Good.’ Although he had suspicions that Jackson would be gone by the time he returned, Mason approached the building carefully. He was expecting a bomb of some sort, but then realised that if Anarchy wanted to do that, he would have done it with the package.
The door creaked open easily, and Mason was left looking at an arrow on the floor. It was a red cut-out and led to another arrow, which led to another.
Wherever that son of a bitch is, he’s in this building. I just know it.
Ever wary, Mason took a deep breath, drew his gun and stepped inside.
46
The hallway was so dark that he could barely see the arrows on the floor anymore. One led to another, sending Mason between the rooms, his finger tense around the trigger of his revolver.
Come on out. I dare you.
He came to what used to be a kitchen. The counters were there but were now rotten. The sink was there but full of mold and bugs. The whole house was letting out a foul stench that was nearly unbearable.
‘Mr Black?’
Mason spun on his heel, raising the gun in the direction the voice came from.
‘I’m in here. I thought the arrows would have been enough.’
It was surely the voice that Mason had heard at the hospital – a calm and slightly amused tone, with small hints of fatigue and frustration. Grasping the gun tight, he went through to the next room.
‘Closer, little piggy.’
‘Come out.’
‘Ssh. Just a little bit closer.’
Mason was ready for an attack, and prepared himself for anything that might happen. But when he came into a large, empty room with the familiar-looking man standing at the far end, he suspected that there was little else to worry over. Besides, if Anarchy made a run for it, Jackson would hopefully take the pictures, or even try to stop him.
‘That’s close enough.’
Mason stopped, slowly lowering the gun. ‘What do you want?’
The man took a small step forward into the beam of light granted by the dirty window. It was clear to see that it was definitely Anarchy now – or Shaun Chambers, both one and the same. ‘What do you think I want? I’m here to test you. You know, for a PI, you’re not very bright.’
Mason had to fight the urge to grab him by his throat. ‘What kind of test?’
‘More of a trial, really.’ Anarchy stepped back now, as if he were being equally cautious.
‘No.’ Mason shook his head. ‘I’m not playing your stupid game, Shaun. Yeah, I know who you are. I spoke with your aunt, and you’re going to jail.’
Anarchy shook his head, looking disappointed. ‘Such confidence! It’s quite admirable – it really is – but that’s not going to happen. And how do I know that?’ He walked toward the back wall and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Because you couldn’t possibly arrest me and save the kids…’
Mason began to sweat. He raised the gun again, far too tempted to squeeze the trigger. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s called pyrotechnic composition. My own little cocktail,’ said Anarchy. ‘Invisible to the naked eye, you hardly notice the irritation before it’s too late. It eats through cloth and skin, attacking the spinal nerves until you begin to spasm. And that’s when the real pain begins. If you’re unlucky enough to survive it, there won’t be much of a life left for you.’
‘What have you done?’ Mason spat.
‘Me? Oh, nothing… It’s just that there’s a school out there somewhere, and it has this chemical coated all over the kids’ classroom chairs. There might be just enough time to get there and stop it, but not if you’re busy taking me down. So, the choice is yours; take me in, or save those little kiddies a lot of grief.’
Mason ground his teeth. ‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Not at all. Hey, as a gesture of good faith, I’ll even give you a little clue as to which school it is.’ Anarchy moved closer now, until his eyes were only inches away from Mason’s. ‘It’s now 7:40, and your little Amy starts school in twenty minutes.’
47
Amy was running a couple of minutes late since Diane had been forced to run back and grab her car keys. It was bad timing, too, as her first class was with Miss Watson, who disliked everybody for no good reason.
She quickly climbed out of the car outside the school, thanked Diane and sprinted up the front steps. The hallways were quiet now, and everybody must have been settled into class. Amy checked her watch.
Six minutes late. Eek!
Pulling on the strap of her bag, she ran down the corridor (ignoring the no-running rule that had landed her in trouble on more than one occasion) toward her classroom. Amy thought she had a pretty good excuse for being late, however. If she was being totally honest, it was a wonder she had made it into school at all. With everything that had been happening to her dad, she could quite happily have skipped school and spent some time with him.
And then there was Marcus, the first boy she had ever liked. Amy really wanted him to stick around, and maybe that was a good thing. They shared most of the same classes, and that served as a draw for her to keep her attendance up. Even though things were rocky, her desire to impress was making her a little mature.
When she reached her class, she pulled open the door and went inside. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Watson.’ Amy looked around the classroom. All the other students were seated at their desks, although a lot of them seemed to still be fidgeting, pulling at their clothes as if they had some kind of irritable itch. Even Marcus, who was sitting at the front and winking at her.
‘And why are you late, Miss Black?’ the teacher said sternly.
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Then you can stick around after school and explain it.’
Aw crap! Amy had never had detention in her life, and she’d certainly thought that she never would. Sure, she had a tendency to get a little too relax
ed at times, neglecting a school policy or two, but her grades had always been up.
Rolling her eyes, Miss Watson waved her palm suggestively toward the room’s one empty desk. ‘Well? Take your seat.’
48
Since leaving the abandoned house, Mason had sprinted to his car (shoving a confused Jackson out of his way) and sped toward Amy’s high school. But even with his foot heavily on the pedal, he was still twenty minutes late.
By the time he arrived, the front of the school building was swarming with ambulances, police cars, and other services he didn’t quite recognise. The children were scrambling everywhere, some crying and others holding their weeping friends.
I’m too late.
Mason had never been so frightened as he was when he ran toward the front doors of the building. A police officer was just outside, setting up a line of tape to cordon off the area, but Mason was already inside by the time the officer could say anything.
‘Amy?’ he cried, running down the corridor, passing a small group of teenagers. He stopped and put his hand on one of their shoulders. They all froze and stared at him. ‘I’m looking for Amy Black. Do you know her?’
They all shook their heads, and Mason ran on. ‘Amy!’
‘Sir,’ a good-looking teacher said, stopping him in his path. Her eyes were a captivating bluish-green, and her hair fell over her forehead in a thick, sexy sweep. ‘You can’t be here right now.’
Mason had met her before. She was Miss Innoles, Amy’s history teacher, and had once called him in to discuss his daughter’s excelling progress. ‘Amy Black – is she here?’
Miss Innoles shook her head. ‘I don’t think you should–’
‘Please!’
The teacher sighed heavily. ‘Up the stairs and in the first door on your left, but you–’
By then, Mason was gone, leaping up the steps and rounding the corner to find the correct classroom. His adrenaline was at an all-time high, his nerves in a state of restlessness. When he found Amy’s room, his heart almost stopped.
Kids were being carried out on stretchers, clawing at their backs in screaming agony. Their howls filled the corridors in haunting echoes, while others stood watching with looks of horror crossing their faces.
That’s it – I messed up. I couldn’t get here on time.
Worse yet was that no matter how many times Mason studied the fear-stricken faces of all the teenagers – no matter how many times he searched and re-searched, his daughter was not in the room.
49
Anarchy. His own name made sense now, even to him. And who cared if Mason had figured out who he really was? The fact of the matter was, he had some tests of his own.
As soon as Mason had left, Anarchy had gone into the back room, which looked as though it had once been a dining room (it was difficult to tell with all the termites and moth-bitten drapes). In the far corner was his laptop, which he prised open and switched on.
While it booted up, all he could think about was how disgusted Mason had looked. The thought of hurting children was clearly one of his weaker spots. Anarchy had read all about his little incident with the Lullaby Killer, and was, to say the least, impressed.
But it’s not over yet, Mr Black.
The laptop finally loaded, and Anarchy turned on the camera feed. Now he was looking at an image of the school. Before long, the Emergency Services would arrive to take care of all the poor kids who had suffered. While he waited patiently to see if Amy Black would be one of them, he slid a cigarette into his mouth and lit it.
Ahhh, sweet release.
While he took drag after delicious drag, blowing the purplish clouds of smoke toward the damp ceiling, Anarchy thought hard about what he might do next. It could be anything from mutilation to a shooting spree. Hell, he could even be the Lullaby Killer’s copycat for all he knew. Anything was possible.
Time will tell, he thought, watching the screen and awaiting the chaos. Time will tell.
50
The police had escorted him out, and he stood nervously at the tape. Even his Private Investigator badge or association with Leanne Cox couldn’t help him this time. It was, for very understandable reasons, considered bioterrorism.
One by one, the surviving teens were led out of the building by teachers and policemen, while the rooms and corridors were swept by the authorities. Nobody knew for sure if there were remaining chemicals, or even if the person who’d done this was still in the building or not. Painful as it was, Mason decided to bite his tongue, for now.
‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stand back.’ A young officer – the one who had tried to stop Mason when he’d arrived on the scene – waved back the ever-growing crowd, forcing them onto the road.
The press were there, too, and Mason suddenly thought of Evie. Normally, she would be the first one on the scene, getting all the facts and sharing them with him. But it seemed those days were done, and while Mason stared longingly at the front doors of the school, he wondered if he would ever see his sister again.
Just then, the doors burst open and a crowd of schoolchildren came out in single file.
‘These are the last of them,’ Miss Innoles said to the policeman, leading the group.
Mason, having heard this, pushed forward to look at the students. His heart was racing as he scanned their features, hoping to recognise Amy. His nightmares were on the verge of coming true, and he imagined the chemicals burning at her back, inflicting such pain.
And then he saw her, the last person at the back of the line.
Ducking under the tape, Mason ran to her. The officer behind tried to stop him, but he wasn’t fast enough. Nothing could keep Mason from his little girl now. He got to her and scooped her up in his arms, holding her close. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Amy said as she was crushed by Mason’s firm hug.
‘Where were you?’
‘Waiting in the principal’s office.’
‘You didn’t go to class?’
Amy’s cheeks grew a rosy red. ‘I had an argument with the teacher. She tried to give me detention because I was a few minutes late, and I didn’t think it was fair. So I told her that, and she sent me to the principal.’
Mason, in spite of the terrible scene around him, began to smile. ‘Good. That’s…’ He enveloped her into his arms again, holding her tight. If it were up to him, he would never let her go – never.
‘Who did this?’ Amy asked, whispering gently into his ear.
Although he could tell her exactly who had set this whole thing up, Mason didn’t like the idea of Amy thinking she was being targeted. If she knew that all these people had suffered because of Mason’s involvement, she would never forgive him. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, lying to her for the first time he could remember. ‘I don’t know.’
51
It was early morning when Mason awoke and trod sleepily downstairs. Still groggy from a night of disturbing dreams, he went into the kitchen, where Diane was folding laundry.
‘Morning. Is Amy up yet?’ He kissed her and joined in, helping her fold the clothes and place them to one side. ‘I want to see if she’s okay.’
‘She’s sleeping in.’ Diane handed him a separate pile and continued to fold her own.
While Mason got to work on the various shirts, he looked over at Diane, who seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood to approach the sensitive subject. ‘So… I’ve been hoping to speak with you about something.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Captain Cox has offered me my old job back.’
Diane paused, staring at the top she held in her hands. ‘That’s great,’ she said flatly. ‘Are you going to take it?’
Mason felt something inside him crumble. He had always thought of them as a team, which was why he had thought to discuss it with her in the first place. But after that reaction, he was no longer so sure. ‘I was hoping to hear your thoughts.’
‘Hon
estly?’
‘Sure.’
Diane put down the clothes, took his hand and led him to the nearest kitchen stool. She sat on the one beside him, looked him right in the eye and said in her calmest tone, ‘Personally, I don’t like it. But it’s not for me to say, really. This is your life and these are your decisions. I wouldn’t want to be the one who stands in the way of you and happiness.’
Mason rested his elbow on the kitchen island. ‘You are my happiness, but can I ask why you’re not hot on the idea?’
‘Hmm.’ Diane bit her lip. ‘With everything that’s going on, I was hoping to have you around a bit more. Amy doesn’t feel so safe, and if I’m being honest, neither do I. All this business with Anarchy is making everyone uncomfortable.’
She’s right, he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say. Doing so would be to confess that he was in over his head, and that would lead to her suggesting that he stop. ‘I will be around more – I will. As soon as this guy is stopped, I plan to take things slower. And, full disclosure, I think I want the job. Just not right now, you know?’
‘Right. So, maybe you should take it.’ Diane stood, ran her fingers through his hair and returned to the laundry. ‘Honestly, do whatever makes you happy. We’ll adapt.’
This isn’t right. She thinks I’m being selfish. What if I am? What if this is my marriage to Sandra all over again? Mason stood and approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her. ‘But I do want to live with you.’
Diane turned, smiling for the first time today. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
She kissed him then, full and hard on the lips, her smile breaking through. ‘I love you, no matter what your job is.’
‘I love you too. I really do.’
After a few minutes of kissing and holding each other, Diane finally took charge of the morning. She got up, threw a suit at Mason and told him to get dressed.
Until then, he had completely forgotten – today he had a meeting with Cox and the rest of the San Francisco Police Department. Although he hadn’t yet officially taken the job, his presence was requested in another capacity – as the unfortunate target of Anarchy.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 41