by Cross, Amy
“Huh,” she muttered. “I'm not imagining this.”
“What happened to you, anyway?” he asked, spotting the bandage on her shoulder. “It wasn't the raccoon, was it?”
She shook her head.
“Just when you think Bowley is a safe place,” he continued, leaning back again, “a goddamn raccoon comes at you and reminds you that the world is filled with danger. First the Border, then this.”
She turned away, ready to ignore him as usual, before realizing what he'd just said. Turning back to him, she saw that he was starting to fall asleep.
“Did you say the Border?” she asked, nudging his arm. “Bob, this is important. Did you just say something about the Border?”
“No, M'am,” he replied with a grin, miming zipping his lips shut. “Seriously, forget it.”
“I know about the Border, you idiot,” she hissed, keeping her voice low as a patient was wheeled past. “Do you go there?”
He paused, eying her with suspicion. “How much do you know?”
“Are you a customer?” she asked. “Seriously, Bob, you? Of all people?”
“What's that supposed to mean? Why wouldn't I be a customer?”
“Well, it's just... I mean, they have...”
“Standards?” He hiccuped. “I'm a member. I go every night.”
She stared at him for a moment, watching the twitch on the side of his face. “Liar,” she said finally. “You've heard of the place, though, which means you probably had an application interview, and the fact that you're drunk...” She paused again, running through the possibilities. “You got turned away, didn't you?”
He shook his head.
“You failed the interview,” she continued, “and... It happened tonight.”
He shook his head again.
“Yes, it did,” she replied, “and that's why you ended up drunk.”
“Absolutely not.”
“And the so-called raccoon attack...” She paused, trying to work out what had really happened to his hand, before realizing the truth. “Well, that part maybe happened,” she muttered. “I could totally see you getting attacked by a raccoon. Bob, in fact I'm surprised it hasn't happened before. If you -”
“Listen -”
“You're an idiot.”
He raised both eyebrows.
“You should be so monumentally glad that you didn't get accepted,” she continued. “Believe me, whatever you think you'd gain from that place, it would have messed with your life. Be glad, be very glad, that you got to walk away.”
“I thought the Border was a huge secret,” he replied, with a hint of a whine.
“It is,” she told him, “so keep your mouth shut.”
Sighing again, he leaned back and looked up at the flickering electric light. “Do you ever think,” he said after a moment, “that sometimes life isn't turning out the way you expected? Do you ever wonder if you're doing it all wrong?”
“I think you're doing it all wrong,” she told him. “You've got a wife and a beautiful little girl at home waiting for you, and instead you're drunk in the emergency room, with a raccoon bite on your hand, and you're feeling sorry for yourself because you didn't get accepted into the Border. If you've got even a shred of sense and dignity left in your body, Bob, you'll go home and you'll set things right. Oh, and you'll stop seeing that little trollop you've been sleeping with.”
“I have no idea what -”
“Don't lie to me,” she replied, getting to her feet. Checking her watch, she paused for a moment. “It's Christmas Eve. Right now, it's Christmas Eve, do you realize that? I guess that means that, in about twelve hours' time, you and I are going to be at a big family gathering and we're going to have to act like nothing's wrong with the world. Try to be sober by then, okay?”
He paused, before nodding.
“I have to speak to a doctor about my shoulder,” she added, “but then I'm heading back to town. Do you want to share a cab?”
“I would,” he replied, “but I think I have to stick around for a few more hours. Something about checking for rabies.”
“You're an idiot,” she muttered, turning to walk away. “Try to sort yourself out by tonight, Bob.”
***
As gently as she could manage, Beth turned the handle and opened the door a little. Peering into the room, she saw that Lucy was sleeping soundly. She allowed herself a faint smile, before closing the door again and heading downstairs.
Everything was a mess, but at least her daughter was fine.
On the kitchen table, Lucy's Christmas gifts were all wrapped and ready to be placed under the tree. Gathering them up, Beth headed through to the front room and began to arrange everything. She'd wrapped something for Bob, too, although as she set it in its place she couldn't help looking up at the angel at the top of the tree, which was still impaled on one of the branches.
“Hey there, Candy,” she muttered. “I hope you've got a nice headache there.”
Checking her watch, she realized that it was only twelve hours or so until her entire family would descend on the house for a Christmas Eve gathering, and the thought was vaguely terrifying. She had no idea where Bob was, but she figured he was most likely enjoying a quick night with his bit on the side. Sighing, she turned to head up to bed.
Her phone buzzed briefly, indicating that a message had arrived.
She was almost too tired to bother looking, but nevertheless she sloped over and grabbed the phone. Finding no messages in the usual folder, she was about to write the buzz off as a figment of her imagination when she noticed that the dark-net browser was flashing. Tapping the screen, she saw to her horror that she'd received an email from someone at Metal Pill Terminations.
After looking over her shoulder to make she was still alone, she opened the email. Her hands were trembling with anticipation as she read the message, which turned out to be terse and to-the-point:
If you're serious, meet me at the Bowley diner at 9am on Christmas Eve. Terms as outlined in advert. Luke.
She froze, reading the message over and over, before closing it and setting the phone down. Stepping back, she felt as if simply by opening the message, she'd somehow come into contact with a different world, with a kind of darkness that existed out there in the world. Looking at the door, she almost expected armed police to storm into the room and drag her away, even though the dark-net messaging app claimed to be anonymous.
At the same time, her heart was pounding. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if she actually went ahead with the whole thing. Bob would be gone forever, and his life insurance policy would cover Lucy's dance lessons and college fees, allowing her to pursue her dreams. A whole perfect life filled Beth's mind, and all of it would be facilitated by the simple removal of one man who, frankly, no-one really liked that much. She tried to imagine herself showing up at the diner to meet this mysterious Luke guy, and although the idea felt insane and impossible, there was still a part of her that was tempted. In fact, the idea of getting rid of Bob seemed ludicrously simple.
She knew she should go to bed, but instead she picked up the phone and read the message again and again, while fantasizing about what it would be like if she actually went through with the plan.
***
Climbing out of the taxi, Jane tried to ignore the twinge of pain in her shoulder. She had a clear plastic bag in one hand, filled with several boxes and bottles of pills that had been prescribed to manage the swelling and stop the pain, although she felt the pain really wasn't something she wanted to ignore. She needed the pain in order to stay alert.
She turned and handed some cash to the driver, before stepping back and watching as the taxi drove off into the night. Turning, she headed toward the police station.
And then she saw her.
Nearby, Jane's car was where she'd left it earlier, and there was a figure sitting in the passenger seat. Even before she could see any of the figure's features, Jane knew who it was, and she stopped for a moment be
fore heading around to open the driver's side door. She sat in the seat and pulled the door shut, before turning to Caitlin.
They sat in silence for a moment.
“You're real,” Jane said finally, her voice trembling with fear. “You are real, aren't you?”
“Define real,” Caitlin replied softly.
“You're really here. You're not...” Jane paused, too scared to continue. “I mean, you're not a figment of my imagination.”
“No, I'm not.”
“So you're...”
Silence again.
“But...” Jane paused again, feeling as if she was on the verge of losing her mind. Looking at the bag of pills, she began to wonder if she'd been given something at the hospital that might have caused her to hallucinate. Then again, she'd been seeing Caitlin for a while now.
“I came back for Joe,” Caitlin said after a moment. “He was so alone after I died, and I knew... I knew what was going to happen to him, and I knew I couldn't stop it, but I felt I should at least try to help him through it all. Over the past nine years, he's come so close to copying the stag-headed man on so many occasions, but I was always able to talk him out of it until recently. When he finally broke down and killed Mel Armitage, I was screaming at him to stop, but he couldn't hear me. He blocked me out. He was listening to the stag-headed man instead.”
“And Hayley?”
“I watched the whole thing,” Caitlin replied. “I begged him to leave her alone, but... The only way he could deal with the pain was to do those awful things. He thought that if he copied the stag-headed man, if he obeyed him, then somehow he'd be helping. His mind is so messed up and twisted, I don't think it could ever have been put right.” She paused. “Well, it was messed up and twisted. Now that he's dead, maybe there's hope for him.”
“Dead?” Jane turned to her, shocked by the suggestion. “Joe's dead? Since when?”
“Since a few minutes ago. Alex Gordon hasn't found the body yet, but at some point soon he'll go into the cell and find that Joe's hanging from the window. I helped him do that, he wouldn't have been able to kill himself alone.”
“I have to go and -”
“It's too late,” Caitlin said firmly.
“There was another way,” Jane replied. “He didn't have to die.”
“I wanted to end his pain.” She looked down at the pills. “Speaking of which, aren't you going to take some of those? Your shoulder's hurting you, I can tell.”
Jane shook her head.
“You don't want to numb the pain?” Caitlin asked.
“I don't think pain should always be numbed,” Jane replied. “I think pain has a reason. I think pain is a message. Numb the pain and maybe you can ignore the message, but that doesn't mean the message didn't have something to tell you.” She stared at the pills for a moment. “I want to find another way to get rid of the pain.”
“Don't be a hero. Your shoulder hurts.”
“It should hurt.”
“I get it,” Caitlin continued, “you're trying to prove some kind of point. But if your shoulder hurts, take the goddamn pills.”
Jane paused, before tossing the bag of pills onto the back seat. “When this is over.”
“So you're going to torture yourself until then?”
“I want to keep my head clear. I don't want to take pills and get foggy.”
“It's not over, you know.”
“I know.”
“Joe killed Mel and Hayley, but only because he was copying the person who killed me.”
“I know.”
“The person wearing the stag head.”
“I know.”
“The person who -”
“I know,” Jane said firmly. “I know he's still out there, and I know we're no closer to finding out who he is or catching him.” She stared out at the dark town square for a moment. “It's that place, isn't it?”
“The Border? What about it?”
“I have to...” She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of fear starting to tighten in her chest. “It can't be allowed to go on.”
Caitlin laughed. “Who's going to stop it? You?”
“It's connected to all of this somehow.”
This time, Caitlin paused. “Maybe. Yes.”
“And it's been allowed to continue for far too long,” Jane muttered. “I don't know how, not yet, but I'm going to stop it all. I'm sure I'm not the first person who's decided to do that, but I swear to God, I'm going to be the first who actually gets the job done.”
“If you stop it,” Caitlin pointed out, “then people are going to find out about it.”
“I know.”
“Your husband's going to call you in a few seconds.”
“I don't want to talk to him.”
“You should.”
She shook her head.
“Trust me,” Caitlin continued, putting a hand on Jane's arm. “You really should talk to him. Promise me you'll at least give him a chance. It's very important.”
Jane paused. “Fine,” she said finally, through gritted teeth.
“And at least think about taking some of those pills.”
She shook her head again.
“Well...” Caitlin smiled. “It's your choice. You know, you can be pretty brave when you want to be. And dumb.”
“I don't feel brave.”
“Really? I don't know many other people who'd willingly get into a car with a ghost. See you around, Jane. One day maybe.”
“What does -”
Turning to her, Jane realized that Caitlin was gone. A moment later, she saw that the word Goodbye had been traced across the window; a moment after that, she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. When she saw that Jack was trying to get in touch, she felt physically sick, but still she answered.
“Hey,” she said cautiously, “what -”
“Where are you?”
“I'm...” She paused. “I'm heading home. I just have a couple of things to do in the office first. It's been a crazy night.”
“I heard about what happened,” he continued. “I'm heading home too. I think we need to talk.”
“Me too,” she replied, with tears in her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
“Look -” She froze for a moment. “What did you say?”
“I'm sorry,” he said again. “I was wrong. I should never have gone into your phone or your emails. I should have listened to you.”
She sat in silence for a moment. In her head, she'd run through a million different possible conversations with her husband, but she'd never even considered the possibility that he might do something as simple as apologize.
“Jane? Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” she replied, wiping the tears away. “Yeah, I am. Jack, listen, I think there's something I need to tell you. It's about...” She paused, before realizing that she needed to tell him about the Border, but face to face. “Later. When we get home. With the kids at your mother's, it's the perfect time.”
“But we'll be okay, right?”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Yeah, we'll be okay.”
“I still think Ben is linked to all of this,” he continued. “Fine, Joe killed Mel and Hayley, but Caitlin nine years ago and the other -”
“We'll talk about it later,” Jane replied, interrupting him. “Let's just...” She turned and looked toward the police station, and after a moment she spotted Alex at the coffee machine, which meant he most likely hadn't found Joe's body hanging in the cell yet. “I have to go and do something,” she continued, “but I'll be home in about an hour. We'll talk, and then it'll be Christmas.”
“I love you,” Jack replied.
“I love you too.”
Cutting the call, she sat in the dark car for a moment before climbing out and walking with heavy steps toward the station's front door. Once she was inside, she went through to the office and found Alex adding cream to his coffee.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, clearly shocked. “Jane, you
r shoulder -”
“It's fine. I got some painkillers.”
“Are they working?”
She nodded, even though it was a lie.
“I was about to go through and check on Joe,” he continued. “That kid is a complete mess. I don't know what's going to happen to him, but he needs locking away and then he needs serious help.” He flicked the button on the coffee machine. “Wait here. I'll be right back.”
“No,” she said suddenly, grabbing his arm. “I'll go and check on him.”
“Come on, you need to -”
“Let me,” she continued, realizing that she didn't want Alex to have to deal with such an awful discovery. “I'll do it. I'll be fine.”
He frowned. “Okay,” he said finally. “I'll make the coffee, then.”
She watched as he headed back to the machine, and then she began to walk across the office. When she reached the door that led through to the cells, she paused for a moment, hoping against hope that maybe Caitlin had been wrong and that Joe would still be alive. Somehow, though, as she looked through at the dark corridor, she felt as if she could sense death in the air. Realizing that there was no point delaying things a moment longer, she made her way along the corridor and then stopped at the end. She felt certain that if she turned and looked into the last cell, she'd see Joe's body but, as tears filled her eyes, she struggled to find the strength. Finally, somehow, she was able to look.
Joe was hanging from one of the light fittings, his body partially illuminated by a patch of moonlight that shone through the window.
***
“I love you too,” Jane said, before the call was cut off.
Sighing, Jack stared at his phone for a moment longer, before slipping it into his pocket. The night was cold and he was facing a long walk home, but he figured the fresh air might do him some good. Making his way along the empty street, he saw Christmas decorations in some of the nearby windows and he realized that in less than twelve hours' time he'd have to be at his sister's house, pretending that everything was okay. Still, so long as Jane was with him, and the kids, he knew he'd manage, even if he had to fake a smile while he was in the same room as his brother.
Soon the morning papers would be delivered, and people all across Bowley would start to learn the truth.