by Mark Ayre
Fire and Smoke
Mark Ayre
The first six Adam and Eve thrillers are dedicated to my daughter, who turned one while I was writing them, and my wife, who did not.
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Contents
By Mark Ayre
Fire and Smoke
Grab Your Free Thriller Novel
Author’s Note
Have You Read?
The Adam and Eve Thrillers
The Hide and Seek Trilogy
The James Perry Mysteries
Standalone
About the Author
By Mark Ayre
The Adam and Eve Thrillers:
Fire and Smoke
Lost and Found
Cat and Mouse
Lock and Key
Cloak and Shield
Hope in Hell
The Adam and Eve boxset: All Six Thrillers
The Hide and Seek Trilogy
Hide and Seek
Count to Ten
Ready or Not (October 2020)
The James Perry Mysteries
The Black Sheep’s Shadow
All Your Secrets
Standalone
Poor Choices
Fire and Smoke
“Adam, get up. They’re here.”
In a creaking bed on a hard mattress, covered by a toilet-paper-thin sheet, Adam had somehow fallen asleep. More surprisingly, like sinking sand, exhaustion had pulled him deeper and deeper.
Before long, he had begun to dream.
At Eve’s call, he reluctantly rose. Groggy, aching, he struggled to comprehend her words.
In his dream, in a dining room he didn’t recognize, but he knew belonged to the earliest home he remembered, he shared a table with the only people for whom he’d ever cared: Eve, his mother, and Saskia.
The food had been delicious, but the conversation stilted. To it, there had been an unpleasant undercurrent. Adam had felt uncomfortable.
Like always, his reality was shaping up to be far worse.
A scaled slug monster from Mars, falling through the ceiling and devouring his mother, Eve, and Saskia, might still end up appearing preferable compared to what the coming day’s dose of real life had to offer.
Striving to shake off his grogginess, Adam sat up. He watched Eve gather their few belongings before she shoved them into their shared bag. Once done, she would chuck it to him. In return for playing pack-mule, he got the bed whenever they shared a room. She said she didn’t mind. Since he struggled with most mattresses, she knew he couldn’t tolerate the discomfort of floorboards.
While she finished, he rose and went to the window, then peeked behind the curtain. The street was empty. On the horizon, the hint of dawn emerged. The late-nighters were in bed at last while the early risers were still beneath the covers.
Only those keen to perform illegal actions unwitnessed remained afoot.
Armed, well-funded kidnappers, for example.
Parked across from the hotel was a black four-by-four. Tinted windows hid what lay within.
There were no further vehicles in sight. If the SUV did belong to their enemies, it wouldn’t be a surprise. There was a wide alley to the left of the hotel, which led to the walled-off parking lot. Both locations offered plenty of space from which to launch an attack.
But…
“Can’t be,” he muttered.
Finished, Eve shoved the bag into his hands, then dragged him away from the window. She ushered him to the door.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s too soon. They’ve never found us so quickly. Blah, blah, blah. I agree. It’s still them.”
Pausing at the exit, they waited, listening. Beyond the wooden barrier, the corridor was silent.
Adam lifted three fingers to indicate the days since the last attack. Unsure of their previous record, he would guess around nine weeks.
Shaking his head, he said, “Not possible.”
“And yet,” she said, edging closer to the door. “Here we go again.”
In the lobby, three suits in their thirties and forties, each wielding impressive-looking badges, loomed over nineteen-year-old Bethany, the hotel clerk. When asked to clarify who they were, they only said they were government officials. They offered no further details.
“We have reason to believe two dangerous individuals are staying here,” said the one who had introduced herself as Caldwell. She had narrow features and cold, emotionless eyes, which matched her robotic voice. “Give us their room number. We’ll handle this quietly.”
Her words weren’t persuasive, though her tone and cold stare were. The two men who flanked her were intimidating as well. One looked as though he could run through a brick wall without suffering either a cut or a bruise. The smaller, slim one had a serial-killer smile.
Bethany pretended to examine the picture Caldwell had slapped on the counter. The footage was grainy, but Bethany had immediately recognized the duo. The guy was cute—the strong, silent type. His girlfriend, though, had talked a lot. Bethany had been jealous of her.
“They’re here,” she confessed. The suits leaned in. Against her better judgment, she offered, “Room 206.”
“Thank you,” said Caldwell.
When the female official nodded, the man with the serial-killer smile withdrew a tiny device and held it to his mouth, whispering words Bethany couldn’t hear.
Leaning across the desk, Caldwell said, “I can trust you to be discreet about this, can’t I, Bethany?”
She got the impression the use of her name was intentional. It wasn’t an endearment. It sounded like a threat.
Feeling timid and stupid, Bethany said, “Yes, miss.”
“Good girl.”
Over the woman’s shoulder, Bethany watched as the lobby began to fill with more suited agents.
A quirk of genetics or trick of cruel deity had cursed Adam and Eve from birth. They might also have been conceived in the control room of a nuclear power station mid-meltdown. Radiation might be the reason for their particular abnormalities.
Adam had once floated this latter possibility to their mother, who had vehemently denied it. Adam believed her. Eve struggled to believe anything their mother said. Naming her twins Adam and Eve was one of many indications she did not have her children’s best interests at heart.
Due to their curse, the twins had experienced hundreds of cities, become acquainted with thousands of people. Friendship, love, and happiness were forever off-limits.
Being human, they sought settlement and contentedness wherever they could. Four days ago, after seven months of freedom, Adam and Eve had enjoyed an evening in a pub garden. Upon the tinkle of the last call bell, they had departed to different locations. Their mother would have been furious.
The decision had almost spelled the end of their lives on the run.
The alternative was not freedom. It was something far worse.
Three days after their last near escape, the bad guys came again. Unlike Adam, Eve did not need to guess the previous record. Sixty-eight days.
Something was different now.
Creaking floorboards.
Their pursuers were professional sneaks, but the hotel was old. Not even the world’s greatest ninja could move silently across these halls—only one with the power to levitate. In Eve’s experience, such abilities were not out of the question.
Closer, closer.
Having realized Eve was right, Adam looked shaken. Unable to sleep on the hardwood floor, Eve had heard the enemy approach. Since she’d left Adam to snooze until she was sure and nearly packed, she had had
longer to accept the situation.
With care, she turned the door’s lock, took the handle, and looked at her brother.
“Ready?”
Adam nodded.
With a calming breath, she prepared to open the door.
Moving as quietly as the building’s ancient flooring permitted, Caldwell led a group of twelve suited agents toward room 206. Each carried three weapons but had drawn only one. Upon entering the room, a spray of fire would hit the twins at least once each. Within seconds, they would be unconscious, and would wake in a secure facility. Injected with a substance Caldwell wouldn’t pretend to understand, their abilities would be subdued until the experiments started.
What these experiments might entail, Caldwell neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was securing the prize. Not screwing up as had many of her predecessors.
Should something go wrong, should the agents fail to stun the twins, they could unholster their gun or unsheathe their blades. In a life-or-death situation, any of Caldwell’s agents might kill either Adam or Eve in self-defense.
Given the cost of failure, Caldwell would be better off putting the gun to her temple and pulling the trigger should she fail to apprehend the twins.
That could not be allowed.
Outside room 206, Caldwell beckoned one agent. Kneeling at the door, he affixed a tiny device to the wood over the bolt. Bethany had given Caldwell a key. But the twins weren’t stupid—the door would be double-locked.
Her man stood, the agents forming a fan around the door. When Caldwell gave the signal, the lock would blow and they’d flood in. Earlier, they had studied the room’s layout—every inch would be covered. The twins had no chance of escape.
Caldwell raised a hand and three fingers, drawing all eyes. One at a time, she lowered them.
Three.
Two.
One.
Caldwell closed her fist. The lock exploded.
Eve heard the explosion. With no hesitation, she opened the door and stepped into the hall.
Caldwell’s agents entered.
Highly paid, highly trained professionals, they had every inch of the room covered before she crossed the threshold in their wake, three seconds after the mini-explosion.
“They’re gone,” one idiot said.
The bathroom and wardrobe doors were open. Perhaps a rodent could squeeze beneath the bed, but not a human.
From the door, Caldwell could see every inch of the room. By his comment, Caldwell’s subordinate revealed he thought her either blind or stupid.
Drawing her gun to shoot him wasn’t an option. She had to consider the employee survey.
Instead, she said, “They were here. Find them.”
When Adam was still in nappies, his mother had forewarned, “Your life will be all about running. If ever you feel settled, it means they are about to strike again. If I taught you one brilliant evasion tactic, you’d escape once, but be caught the second time. These people learn fast. I’ll teach you a thousand tricks. You’ll learn them all, and more, or you’ll die.”
Some tricks were more straightforward than others. Having been chased from one town three days ago, the twins were off guard. Little thought had gone into their safety. They’d believed they’d have weeks, at minimum, before their enemies found them again.
Their mother had drilled them well. Even in a state of false security, they’d chosen an old, independent hotel. Behind the desk, each room had a cubby hole. A glance revealed the vacant ones.
Eve had booked room 206. With a smile and a wave, they had departed the lobby, entered the lift, and traveled one floor. Only once sure the coast was clear had they broken into room 106.
As room 206’s door exploded inwards, they’d opened theirs, stepped into the hallway, and marched to the stairwell.
Already, the agents would know they had been fooled. Maybe they suspected the twins had booked a room and slept in another hotel—a second trick. Either way, they would make searching the building a priority.
Silence greeted them in the stairwell. With light feet, they raced to the ground floor. In a tiny vestibule was the building’s only lift and a windowless door.
By the door, they paused. Through it, a narrow corridor led to a crossroads—right to the ground-floor guest rooms, left to the restaurant, bar, and kitchen. Straight ahead, an unobstructed arch revealed the lobby, with a waiting area on the right, receptionist desk on the left. Glass double doors displayed the outside world like a museum artifact.
“They’ll have people in the lobby,” Eve said. “We won’t get through this door without being seen.”
Palm up, Adam offered his hand. Empty. Eve stared at the bare skin as though expecting something to materialize.
Neither of their gifts allowed for conjuring objects out of thin air, thick air, or anywhere else.
“Sure about this?”
Adam nodded. Those who knew him briefly often left believing him mute. Their mother used to say a toddler Adam, having become sick of his sister’s constant interruptions, ceased bothering to talk.
The truth alluded even Adam. Having spent his whole life surviving, there had rarely been a quiet moment for self-examination.
“All right,” Eve said.
She took his hand. He shouldered open the door.
Together, they stepped into the hall.
Behind the desk, Bethany stood still as a stone, arms by her side, staring at the wall ahead. She tried not to look directly at anyone, as though they might shoot her should she meet their eye.
She had always preferred the night shift. At nineteen, she lived with her parents. She didn’t have kids or a boyfriend. Her friends were mostly at university. The nightshift suited her because it was better paid and not as busy as days. Plus, no management. For the most part, it involved slouching behind the desk on her phone, checking Facebook or watching Grey’s Anatomy. Once home, she slept the morning away, then lounged around in the afternoon with the house to herself. She was saving to get her own place.
After tonight, she would avoid nights for a while. Caldwell was frightening. Before departing, the agent had told Bethany to relax, do what she would normally, but how could she? There were five suited creeps in her reception and more outside.
Three of the suits slumped in chairs, laughing and gossiping as though this were a holiday. Another stood by the door. The final paced, but he kept a watchful gaze on Bethany. It was a hungry, eager look she loathed from any guy—let alone one she suspected was armed. Despite the badges, she had begun to doubt they were government agents.
A soft thud drew her gaze to the right, through the arch, and down the corridor. All was still, silent. She was sure she had heard the door open and close.
This night couldn’t get any weirder, any worse. Even so, thoughts of ghosts arose—evil spirits who trailed up the hall, unseen until they were inches from her face.
Except, ghosts didn’t need doors. That was common knowledge. She was being silly. Creepy as these suits were, she had nothing to fear.
The door slammed, and she stifled a scream.
No evil spirit emerged. Caldwell, followed by another duo, marched into the lobby. All eyes snapped toward her, the three laughing guys jumping to attention. Caldwell’s eyes gleamed murderously.
“They’re not in their rooms,” she said. “But they were here half an hour ago. Cover all the exits and arrange a search of the surrounding area. Find them. Get them.”
“But ma’am,” someone said. “Can’t the guy—”
“Shut up,” Caldwell cut in. “He can’t do anything for long, so do as I say.”
Scared off from asking further questions, the agents jumped to work. Bethany prayed they would leave her reception area.
Some did. Caldwell approached the desk.
“Tell me, Bethany. You weren’t lying earlier, were you?”
“What?” She tried not to sound desperate. “No. About what?”
“Adam and Eve arrived tonight, took room 206, and
went upstairs. They didn’t depart?”
“Right,” Bethany said. “Well, I didn’t see them leave. There are fire escapes and an employee exit, but how could I know if they’d gone out any of those? I couldn’t. I promise I—”
“Enough,” Caldwell said. She glanced over her shoulder. Only Bethany and her lackeys remained. She pointed at one of her people. “My colleague will keep you company. There’s a chance the twins will return. They may be angry you’ve spoken with us. They’re extremely dangerous. Once we’ve apprehended them, I’ll be back.”
More than anything, Bethany wanted to be left alone. To tell Caldwell she didn’t believe anyone could be as dangerous as the frightening woman and her agents. Trembling with fear, she couldn’t manage any words. Instead, she only nodded.
“Good,” Caldwell said, smiling an awful smile. “See you soon.”
She swept from the room. The man she’d left behind was tall and rough. He had a scar above his lip and tiny black eyes. His hair was shaved close. When he put his hands on the counter, Bethany saw they were weathered and ringless. If someone had asked her to imagine a government special agent, his image would not have popped in her mind. He was hardly James Bond.
Hands on the counter, he said, “You’re pretty, miss. I’m worried about you being so exposed. Is there somewhere a little more private I can take you? Make sure those nasty twins can’t get you?”
Still trembling, too afraid to speak, Bethany could only shake her head. From her chest, those beady black eyes flicked past her shoulder to the rows of room cubbies.
“There you go,” he said, pointing.
Inviting himself around the desk, he brushed past her, making her shiver. From one of the hooks, he grabbed a key. 002. One of the unoccupied guest rooms on the ground floor.