The Border: The Complete Series

by Cross, Amy

  “What do I hear?”

  “It's a serious question, Jack.”

  “I hear... I hear people, enjoying themselves.”

  “And does it sound natural to you?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Not forced at all?”

  “No. Why, does it sound forced to you?”

  “It's like a visceral, gut reaction,” Ben continued, clearly pained by the sound. “It's why I stay away, really, 'cause I know that every time I come back to Bowley, every time I come back to the family... That's why I wanted a few days alone in town before I made my presence known. Fuck, I know it might make me seem weird, but I don't care right now, it's a matter of self-preservation.” He sighed. “Do you know how I feel right now? Right this instant?”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Can I be honest with you, Jack? I need to be honest with someone. I can't lie anymore.”

  “Okay,” Jack replied skeptically.

  “You think I'm full of shit?”

  “I'm listening.”

  “I feel this uncontrollable tightness,” Ben replied, grimacing slightly, “slowly twisting and turning in my belly. Like someone's grabbed hold and is just turning it all around, and I'm struggling to find a way to get some release. Do you know that feeling, Jack?”

  “I... Maybe. A bit.”

  “Fuck,” Ben continued, “it consumes me. I can ignore it when I'm away from home, but...” He glanced over at the door for a moment, before stepping closer to his brother. “We're close, right? You and me? I mean, I'm trying to fucking talk to you man to man. It's not easy, but... We can still do this, right?”

  “I guess. You've been gone nine years -”

  “That's nothing. Nine years? We're brothers, come on, nine years is the blink of an eye. We have a connection.” Pausing, Ben seemed to be trying to summon the strength to say something else.

  “What is it?” Jack asked finally.

  “I don't know if I can tell you.”

  “Out with it.”

  “It's hard, man.” Another pause. Ben closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again, this time with tears welling. “When I get that feeling, that tight feeling... It's something I've had on and off for my whole life, and I've never told anyone this, okay? Not a soul. You have to promise to keep it to yourself, Jack, if I tell you.”

  “I promise.”

  “Really promise.”

  “I really promise, just -”

  “Even if you feel like you have to tell someone,” Ben hissed. “Like you have a duty, even if... You can't even tell Jane. Especially not Jane, seeing as she's a cop.” He paused. “Jack, I need your help, but you have to promise that you'll treat me as your brother, not as anyone else. That's the whole reason I came back this time, to get you to help me, 'cause you're the only one who can. I'm sorry for bullshitting you at the bar the other night, I was scared, but I need you, man.”

  “Just tell me what's wrong.”

  “I can't keep living like this,” Ben continued. “I can't keep doing the things I've been doing.”

  “Such as?”

  “You know.”

  “I do?”

  Ben nodded. “You do. You've suspected it for a long time. Don't be polite.”

  “What... exactly do you think I've suspected?”

  “I came to you for help. Keep that in mind.” Grabbing Jack's arm, Ben seemed filled with fear. “You have to promise that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. As my brother, Jack, you have to give me that promise and stick to it.”

  “Sure. I promise.”

  He waited for Ben to reply, but after a moment he realized his brother was simply staring into his eyes.

  “What are you doing, Ben?” he asked finally.

  “Trying to work out whether I can trust you.”

  “You can.”

  “That feeling I told you about,” Ben continued, “the feeling in my gut... When I was younger, when I was here before, I found out how to make it go away, but it's not very nice. I have to do something that I know other people might consider bad, or wrong, or... wicked in some way. Evil.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Jack asked cautiously.

  “Haven't you worked it out already?”

  “I need you to say it.”

  “But then you'll help me, right?” Ben pleaded. “I put on this shit-eating grin all the time and I act like nothing matters, like it all washes over me, and I joke around, but inside... Inside, man, I'm falling apart. Please, don't judge me...”

  “Just tell me the truth,” Jack continued, “and I'll help you get the help you need.”

  “I can't say it,” Ben replied.

  “You have to.”

  “I can't.”

  “Ben, you have to,” Jack hissed, keeping his voice down. “There's no -”

  “There you are!” Audrey shouted, with a gin and tonic in her hand as she appeared in the doorway. “My two darling sons, why are you -”

  “Not now, Mum,” Jack said firmly, keeping his eyes fixed on Ben.

  “Don't tell her,” Ben whispered.

  “You boys, always so -”

  “Not now!” Jack said again, turning to her with anger in his eyes. “Mum, please! We need a minute!”

  She paused, clearly starting to understand that something serious was happening, before muttering a few choice words and heading back through to join the others.

  “Thank you,” Ben whispered, as a tear ran down his cheek. “I don't want her to ever know. It'd fucking kill her.”

  “Start by telling me,” Jack replied. “Everything. In your own words.”

  “When I get that tight feeling in my gut,” Ben whispered, “the only way to make it stop is... It's not their fault. It's never their fault. I don't know why I'm wired this way, Jack, but I just have to find a girl, any girl, and...” Pausing, he looked down at his trembling hands. “Do you know how it feels when a puncture wound in a human body lets blood spurt out onto you? Do you know what it's like to witness the light go out in someone's eyes?”

  Jack stared at him, barely able to believe what he was hearing.

  “Do you know what it's like,” Ben continued, “to kill someone?” He stared at his hands for a moment longer, before meeting his brother's horrified gaze. “Four women, Jack. Four women in a decade and a half. It would have been so many more, but I held back. I need you to understand that, brother. I worked so, so hard to restrain myself. There were times when I was fucking curled up in a ball on the floor, shaking with pain, forcing myself to stay inside and not go out to kill again. That's why there were such long gaps, I tried to train myself, like a monk, to ignore my urges, but sometimes... Sometimes they were just too strong. And now I'm scared – no, I'm fucking terrified – that it's going to happen again. After the girl at the bar the other night, I don't want to kill any more people.”

  They stood in silence for a moment.

  “Jack?” Ben whispered finally. “Do you hate me? Aren't you going to say something? You were right all along, I killed those girls, and I'm going to do it again and again until I'm stopped, because I can't stop myself!”

  He waited, but there was no reply.

  “And do you know what I do immediately after I've killed them?” he continued.

  “What?” Jack asked, his voice trembling with tension. “Jesus Christ, Ben, what do you do?”

  “I pray,” Ben replied, wiping more tears from his eyes. “Does that surprise you? Me! I actually pray! I open the wooden doors on the little Jack shrine in my crumby apartment, and I kneel in front of my photos of you...” He stared at Jack for a moment longer, and finally he allowed his smile to return, spreading quickly across his face. “And I ask God why, oh why, he couldn't make me be like you. I have lots of photos of you, ones where you look particularly strong and moral.” He began to chuckle to himself. “I weep and I moan,” he added, raising his hands toward the kitchen's low ceiling, “and I beg him, I sob, I ask why he couldn't make m
e such a fine, upstanding citizen, instead of this weak and cowardly murderer that everyone -”

  “You're full of shit,” Jack replied, interrupting him.

  “Why God, why? Why can't I be normal and decent like my saintly brother Jack?”

  Jack shook his head.

  “No, it's true,” Ben continued, taking a step back and grabbing his beer, before taking another swig. “I ask God, why -” Bursting out laughing, he finally tried to compose himself again. “I ask why can't I be like you. That's all I want in life, that's all anyone -”

  “You think this is a joke?” Jack asked.

  “You should see your face,” Ben replied, stepping closer and patting him on the shoulder. “You're so fucking gullible, my brother, I swear, it's too easy to wind you up.”

  “I knew you were lying.”

  “No you didn't,” Ben replied with a faint, amused sigh. “No, you thought for a moment that I'd finally confessed to all these awful things you think I did. You were lapping up every goddamn word.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Did you know that the word 'gullible' isn't even in the dictionary anymore,” Ben asked, chuckling as he headed to the door. “Look it up some time. True story, I swear to God.”

  “Do you seriously think you're being funny?” Jack asked.

  “Um...” Turning, Ben grinned. “Yeah, actually, yeah I do, I think that was really fucking funny. Your face, brother, I will not forget that look in your eyes, not in a hurry. I can't believe you seriously thought I was opening up to you and telling you some big, awful secret. You're too funny, Jack. Too fucking funny by half.” Another swig of beer. “And far too fucking easy to wind up.” Yet another swig, and this time he looked over at Jack and saw that his brother was simply staring at him with pure hatred in his eyes. “Boo,” he added.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Jack said, pushing past him and heading through to the front room.

  Sighing, Ben made his way over to the window and looked out at the garden, where the children were playing.

  “That's always been your problem, Jack,” he muttered finally, still chucking. “You can never take a joke. And you can never tell which parts of a joke are real and which parts aren't.”

  V

  “Have fun,” Simon muttered as he swung the door shut, leaving Katie standing along in the stairwell. Music could be heard from down below, and there was the occasional faint call of a voice, but this time Katie wasn't scared. She'd already spent two nights at The Border, so she knew exactly what to expect.

  Naked again, she made her way down as the stairwell wound to the right, spiraling deeper down until reaching the red-lit entrance hallway.

  “Hey,” Hayley said, looking up from the book she was reading. Sitting on a bench over by main desk, Hayley was also naked, although she carried her nakedness much more casually than Katie could manage. “Ready for another ride on the old buck?”

  Katie nodded cautiously, although her eyes were fixed on the archway at the far end of the room. Off in the distance, voices could be heard shouting to one another, and it sounded as if the evening's festivities were particularly raucous. People were laughing.

  “Well,” Hayley muttered, setting her book down and getting to her feet, “my break's pretty much over, so we might as well go in together. Crutchlow's here again, surprisingly enough, and his appetite's come back. Yay for chemo.”

  Katie nodded again.

  “You'll be okay,” Hayley added, offering a faint smile as she reached out and took Katie's hand. “I told you the other night, it's just a matter of shutting down the part of your brain that would normally be bothered by what happens here. I know it seems hard, but one day you'll be able to do it without even thinking about it. And then one day you'll be out of here for good.”

  “Sure,” Katie whispered. “I guess.”

  With that, she allowed Hayley to lead her through the archway into the main part of The Border, where Crutchlow was already holding forth and regaling his fellow guests with stories of his better days.

  ***

  She knew that people were supposed to feel relaxed when they headed out of town, and freer, and somehow 'in tune' with nature, whatever the hell that meant. Jane, on the other hand, usually just felt out of place, as if she was more exposed than normal. She was a city girl, or at least a town girl, through and through. Even now, as she climbed out of the car and headed across the dark field, toward the twisted oak tree, she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder, just to make sure that there was no-one else around.

  She just wasn't used to the natural world.

  Hearing her phone start ringing, she pulled it from her pocket and sighed as she saw that Jack was trying to get in touch again. Figuring that she'd better answer this time, she tapped the screen.

  “Hey, honey, I'm just -”

  “On your way to Beth's house?”

  “To Beth's? No, why would I be on my -”

  “Because that's where I am,” he replied. “I'm sitting here right now with Beth and Bob, and the kids. And my mother, my dear, slightly drunk mother. And a few other family hangers-on. Oh, and Ben. Ben's here. Please, I need you to come and help keep me sane.”

  “I'm...” As she reached the oak tree, she turned and looked back toward the town, which lay a few miles away in a muggy gray depression in the valley's basin. “I'm not really very close right now...”

  “Can't you tell Alex you need to finish early? Anyway, what time do you finish today?”

  “I'm just working a little late.”

  “Please, I'm begging you. Ben's already irritating the hell out of me. You won't believe the shit he pulled earlier.”

  “I'll be home in an hour or two,” she told him. “Quicker, maybe, if you'll let me get off the phone.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Out.”

  “Where? Honey, it's getting dark!”

  “Just out. Looking into something. Can I please get on with my job?”

  “He's driving me insane,” Jack replied. “I know I shouldn't say this, I know you'll give me shit for it, but... I think I hate him!”

  “You don't hate your brother.”

  “Don't be so sure about that. Please, just promise you'll be here as soon as you can.”

  “Sure. And you promise you won't say anything mind-blowingly stupid to Ben. Or about him, when he might overhear.” She paused, waiting for a reply. “You know he likes to wind you up, Jack. He knows all your buttons and he pushes them expertly, and you let him! Just calm down and let it all flow over you.”

  “This is great,” he muttered. “It's gonna be a great Christmas with -” He paused. “He's back from the kitchen. God, he's got that fucking grin again. Gotta go. Get here soon!”

  “Fancy a beer -” Ben's voice could be heard saying on the other end of the line, before the call was cut.

  “Sounds like a true monster,” Jane said, slipping her phone away before putting her hands on the oak tree and giving it a gentle tug, to see if it was still as firm as ever. “You'll be fine, honey, just treat him like a man instead of a depraved killer.”

  She paused for a moment, enjoying the silence. She wanted to 'connect with nature', which was something that everyone else seemed to do so easily, but she'd never been able to find that part of herself. She felt as if she was just standing in a field, slightly cold, waiting to go back to her car and return to the comforts of suburbia. Then again, she knew she couldn't go back, not yet. She'd headed out to the tree for a reason.

  “Is your husband being an idiot again?” a female voice asked finally.

  A faint shiver passed up Jane's spine.

  “Well?” the voice continued. “Is he?”

  She nodded.

  “Causing endless, needless drama?”

  She nodded again.

  “And is he going to listen to your advice, or will he just carry on making everything difficult?”

  Jane paused for a moment, before turning to see Caitlin Somers sitt
ing on another part of the tree, with all her injuries fresh and visible in the cold evening air.

  “I can understand why you'd rather be out here,” Caitlin continued with a faint smile. “I'm not sure your husband would, though. Choosing a dead girl's company over a mini family reunion? Jack's just insecure enough to find that a problem, isn't he?”

  “Another girl died,” Jane replied.

  “I know,” Caitlin said, as her smile grew.

  “Mel Armitage,” Jane continued. “Barmaid, twenties, not too many connections in town. Kind of an unassuming woman who kept herself to herself, not an obvious target. Doesn't seem to have been promiscuous.”

  “I wasn't promiscuous,” Caitlin pointed out.

  “No, but you were young.”

  “Is that a crime now?”

  “Not yet.”

  “But it can be a provocation to some people?”

  Jane nodded.

  “I take it that there are certain similarities?” Caitlin continued, reaching up and running her fingers around the edges of her chest wound. A gaping hole revealed the cavity where her heart should have been. “You didn't come out here for shits and giggles, did you?”

  Jane shook her head.

  “So do you think it's him again?”

  “Who's he?”

  “The man who killed me.”

  “What's his name?”

  Caitlin smiled. “Nice try.”

  “There are differences,” Jane told her. “For one thing, he broke your neck. Mel's neck wasn't broken.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I don't know yet.”

  “Well, why do you think he broke my neck?” Caitlin asked. As if to make her point, she tilted her head slightly, causing a faint crunching sound as a jagged piece of bone pushed against the inside of her lower jaw. “Did it happen in the struggle, or had he planned things out a little more?”

  Making her way around the tree, Jane stopped as she got closer to the dead girl.

  “Are you real?”

  “Am I real?” Caitlin replied with a smile.

  “Are you?”

  “A real ghost, you mean?”

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “What else could I be?”