by Cross, Amy
***
A short while later, Tom's car screeched to a halt on a dark street and the door swung open. Candy's bloodied corpse tumbled out, and the car immediately took off again, knocking over a trashcan as Tom struggled to pull the door shut.
III
Without saying a word, Ben opened the passenger-side door and stepped out of the car, immediately feeling a cold night breeze fluttering against his shirt. He slammed the door shut and turned to Jane, and for a moment he simply watched as she looked over at the office building. The same breeze was rippling her hair, but as she slung a rifle over her shoulder it was clear that she barely even noticed the world around her. Only the building held her attention, and the promise of what lay beneath.
“There's still time to back out,” Ben told her. “You have two kids at home who -”
“Don't keep saying that,” she replied, stepping past the car and making her way up the steps. “My kids need a safe world. They won't get that if the Border is still here.”
Taking a deep breath, Ben double-checked that his shotgun was ready to fire, before following Jane into the building. The door had been left unlocked, so they had no trouble getting to the corridor and then making their way toward the door at the far end. They both knew the way, of course, albeit for very different reasons: Jane, many years ago, had turned up one night for an audition, and then she'd spent several months working at the Border; Ben, on the other hand, had been a hired hand, carting boxes inside and generally working as a dogsbody. Now, as they reached the door, they stopped and glanced at one another.
“Okay?” Jane mouthed silently.
Ben nodded.
They both paused.
Suddenly Jane turned the handle and pushed the door open, aiming her rifle straight ahead as she saw a startled Simon sitting at his desk, speaking to someone on the phone.
“Police!” Jane shouted. “Put your hands where I can see them!”
“Wait!” Simon stammered, with the phone still in one hand. “Sir, can I call you back? There's a situation.”
“Who are you talking to?” Jane asked.
“I'll be sure to do that, Sir,” Simon continued, before setting the phone back onto its cradle.
“Who was that?” Jane shouted, stepping toward him.
“That was my boss,” he replied, watching the barrel of the gun with caution. “I really don't think he's going to take too kindly to -”
“Call him back!” she barked.
“I can't possibly do that right now.”
“Call him,” she said firmly. “I want to know who's behind this place.”
Simon shook his head.
“You know I can find out,” she continued. “I can get hold of your phone records, your emails, everything. I'll get the information I want. You just need to think very quickly, Simon, about whether you want to annoy me while that happens.”
“Jane...”
“Call him back!”
“No!”
She took another step forward, with the barrel of her rifle aimed straight at Simon's face.
“Easy, tiger,” Ben whispered to her, glancing around and spotting just one camera in the room, high up on the far wall. Raising his shotgun, he fired a single blast and the camera exploded along with a decent chunk of the wall and ceiling.
“You could have just unplugged it!” Jane hissed, turning to him.
“I didn't know it'd cause so much damage,” he replied, staring in shocked amazement at the smoking hole where the camera had been mounted. “I'm not really a gun kinda guy.”
“Tell Katie I love her,” Simon whispered.
Ben glanced at him. “Alright, Romeo, calm down.”
“You also shouldn't waste ammunition,” Jane pointed out.
“Fair point.” He glanced at the hole before turning just in time to see Simon taking a gun from the desk drawer. “No!” he shouted. “Get the -”
Before he could say another word, Simon smiled and pulled the trigger, shooting himself through the mouth and spraying a mix of blood and brain matter across the white wall as his body slumped down.
***
“Please!” Ruth shouted as the paramedics started working on Alex's trembling body. “You have to save him! It's like he started speaking in tongues!”
***
“Sweet Jesus,” Ben said, wincing as he stepped around the desk and looked down at Simon's fallen body. “That is the single most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life. And let me tell you, I've been around the block a few times.”
“What the hell did he do that for?” Jane stammered, her hands shaking as she held her rifle. She was rooted to the spot, with the sound of Simon's gunshot still ringing in her ears.
“Fear, I guess,” Ben muttered, turning to look toward the door in the corner, before reloading his shotgun. “He knew the game was up, and he also knew his boss on the other end of the line wouldn't be too happy.”
“I need to call this in,” Jane replied, pulling her phone from her pocket.
“And waste this opportunity?”
She turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“You don't need to call it in,” he continued, “you just want to back out. Calling it in is your way of taking things out of your own hands, when we both know perfectly well that we have to keep going.”
“A man just died!”
“So?” He shrugged. “It's not like he was a decent man, or a good man, or a man with any redeeming qualities at all. He died? Good. That shows we're on the right track.” Making his way over to the corner, he pulled open the door and looked down the steps as he heard loud music thumping from the level below. “Maybe you should turn back, Jane,” he added. “This isn't for you.”
Stepping around the desk and taking care not to look at Simon's corpse, Jane had already slipped her phone away.
“Don't say that,” she said firmly. “I've been down there before, remember.”
“Well, don't say I didn't give you a chance to quit.”
Taking the lead, with his shotgun aimed straight ahead, Ben made his way down the steps until, finally, he reached the bottom and look out across the red-walled room. The scene was filled with a kind of dull haze, as bright lights burned in the corners and naked women led naked men from doorway to doorway. At first, no-one even noticed Ben and Jane as they stood at the bottom of the steps, but finally one of the women stopped and stared, as if she couldn't quite process what she was seeing.
“You might want to get out!” Ben shouted. “Things are gonna get real ugly!” Reaching over to a box on the wall, he flicked a couple of switches and the red lights were immediately replaced by bright, unforgiving white lights, while the music came to an abrupt halt.
“What the hell is this?” one of the men shouted, stumbling to his feet.
“This is your late night wake-up call,” Ben replied, aiming the gun at him, “and you'd do well to take notice. Sorry, gentlemen, but the Border is shutting down tonight. You've all got about five minutes to get out of here before my police officer friend here starts taking names.”
“We're not doing anything wrong!” the man shouted, stepping toward him.
“Then by all means stay and test that theory,” Ben said darkly. “The rest of you, if you've got any sense at all, had better start running.”
***
“It's going to be okay!” Ruth sobbed, hurrying alongside Alex as he was wheeled out to a waiting ambulance. Reaching down, she squeezed his hand, even as his body continued to tremble. “You're going to be just fine!”
“It's some kind of seizure, M'am,” one of the paramedics said. “We need to get him to hospital as quickly as possible. Whatever's wrong with him, it's only getting worse.”
***
“Well that was relatively easy,” Ben said with a frown, looking around at the bare, brightly-lit room once the last of the customers had fled semi-clothed up the steps. “I thought at least one of them would put up a fight.”
“This is ju
st the first level,” Jane replied, her eyes fixed on the door in the corner. “Something tells me it'll get harder the further down we go.”
“They'll also be more prepared.”
“That guy was right, though,” she continued, turning to him. “Technically, the Border complied with every law. What they were doing might have been wrong, it might have been repulsive, but from a legal standpoint they had themselves covered and -”
“Let's check out a few more levels,” Ben replied, “and then see where we stand on that, okay? I've got a feeling that the further we get from the surface, the further we get from anything decent.”
With that, he headed across the room and opened the next door. From below, loud music could still be heard.
***
“You're so lucky,” Tom Lanegan said, holding Katie's hand tight as he led her along the dark, red-lit corridor. “I'm sorry I was late tonight, but I'm here now and that's what matters. And you, my dear, are going to be part of the Border's most sacred ritual.”
“I'm really not sure about that,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder and seeing that several other customers were following at a safe distance. “Sir, I actually think -”
“In here,” he continued, tightening his grip as he led her through an archway and into a large, high-ceiling room with a set of steps leading up to a rostrum at the far end. There were still a few trails of Candy's blood dried to his face. “You have no idea how privileged you are to witness this moment, girl. What's your name again?”
Staring at the rostrum, she couldn't help but notice what appeared to be a hunched figure with a set of twisted, broken antlers jutting up from the top of its head.
“K... Katie,” she stammered, “but really, I just want to -”
“Katie,” Tom repeated with a smile, leading her forward. “Have you heard the legend of the stag-headed man, Katie? Have you heard the stories that are told all around this little town?”
“I don't think so...”
“Every club needs a ritual,” he continued, “and the Border is no different. It's rare for new members to be admitted, and when they are, they have to pass an initiation test.” He paused, his eyes alive with anticipation as he stared at the silhouetted figure at the far end of the room. “Blood has to be a part of that test, of course,” he added. “Blood must be part of any test, really. Sure, the members who join the upper levels know nothing of this, but the deeper you get, the closer you come to the beating heart of the Border, and such a prize requires sacrifice. It takes time.” He turned to her. “Do you know what we sacrifice here, Katie?”
She shook her head, while trying to twist her arm free from his grip. She didn't want to show that she was panicking, not yet, but at the same time she wanted to get away.
“We sacrifice innocence,” Tom continued. “Our own innocence, of course. We force ourselves across the threshold, and in so doing we reveal what kind of souls we really have. I myself was only recently granted that opportunity. I became the latest in a long line of figures to have worn the crown of the stag-headed men. In fact, I believe I'm only the fifth or six person to be given that honor in the past two decades. And what did I do?” He paused for a moment. “I chose to break with tradition. I killed not a girl, like the rest had done before me, but a man. A dangerous man, a man who I deemed to be a threat to the Border. It's okay, though. I quickly put that right.”
Turning, Katie saw a large glass jar standing on a nearby table, half-full with what appeared to be several fist-sized objects.
Instinctively, she took a step back.
“No!” Tom hissed, shoving her forward with such force that she fell against the table and had to steady herself. He placed his hands on her bare hips, as if to hold her in place. “Take a look!”
Staring down at the jar, she realized that it contained some kind of meat, with other, smaller flecks of stringy matter suspended in the yellowing liquid.
“Hearts,” Tom whispered, his voice curling with pleasure. “Human hearts.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide with horror.
“Every candidate for the lower levels of the Border is required to place a heart in that jar. Some of them are many decades old, others are more recent.”
“Why...” Pausing, Katie told herself that the whole thing had to be some kind of sick joke. “Why are you doing all this?” she asked cautiously. “Is it a test? Is it something...” She turned back to look at the hearts. “Is it some kind of fantasy? Those are pig hearts, right? I mean, they have to be pig hearts.” She winced a little, before turning to Tom again. “I think maybe you should find someone else for this,” she stammered. “I'm pretty open-minded and I'm definitely not a prude, but there are some kinks -”
“I need to add another heart,” he replied, interrupting her. “I made a mistake. I added the heart of Jack Freeman to the jar of hearts.” He tapped the jar, indicating a heart near the top. Pinker than those beneath it, this heart still had blood smeared around its sides. “I had to add a woman's heart to balance that out,” Tom continued, tapping a little higher up, indicating the heart at the top. “I managed that tonight, but now I'm back to where I started, so I need to add another woman, and then I'm ahead. I shouldn't have tried to change things, but fortunately I can make amends.” He turned and stepped toward Katie. “Do you get it now?”
She stepped back, horrified as she saw him slipping a knife from his pocket.
“This is more than I signed up for,” she stammered. “I'm out of here. I think maybe I'm going to quit a few hours early.”
She watched as Tom took the crown of the stag-headed man from its stand and placed it on his head.
“That's enough for me,” Katie said, turning and hurrying toward the door before feeling a hand on her bare shoulder, yanking her back. “Please, you have to stop!”
She tried to slip away, but the hand reached around and grabbed her chest, holding her firmly.
“Please,” she stammered, “just -”
Suddenly, just as she tried to twist free, she felt an intense, sharp pain in her shoulder, and she looked down just in time to see the knife's tip being forced out through the top of her right arm. Filled with a sense of adrenalin-fueled panic, she stumbled forward with the knife still embedded in her flesh, before turning and seeing that Tom was already following her. Sobbing as the pain intensified, she turned and staggered out into the corridor, almost tripping as warm blood flowed down her arm and dribbled onto the floor.
“You shouldn't have struggled,” Tom told her. “If you'd stayed still, I'd have aimed right the first time and you'd be free of pain by now.”
Ignoring him, she staggered along the corridor, forcing herself onward even as she began to feel increasingly weak. Turning, she saw a trail of blood leading back toward Tom, who was already following with the stag mask covering his face.
“Get away from me!” she screamed, before turning and running through to the next room. “Someone help! Someone call the police!”
“Hello, there,” Mac Crutchlow grinned, looking over at her from one of the booths in the corner. “Why don't you come and sit down?”
“Join us for a drink,” added another guest, an older man with a snow-white beard. He grabbed Katie's arm and tried to pull her toward the booth. Although she tried to fight back, she was starting to feel as if she might collapse at any moment.
“That looks nasty,” Mr. Crutchlow said, peering at the knife poking out from her shoulder. “You want to be careful, young lady, or you'll end up hurting yourself.”
“Just take a seat,” the white-bearded man said, shoving Katie into the booth. “This'll all be over with in a matter of seconds.”
“No!” she shouted, pushing him away and stumbling to her feet, even as she saw Tom entering the room. Racing away from him, she tripped and fell, landing hard and scrambling for a moment in a patch of her own blood as she got to her feet and ran toward the stairs.
“You won't get very far!” Mr. Crutchlow called a
fter her. “It's a special night tonight, young lady! Mr. Lanegan is being initiated into the lower reaches of the Border! He's going to go beyond the seventh level! They're all howling for him down there!”
With tears in her eyes, Katie began to scramble up the stairs, desperately trying to get back up to the sixth level. She tripped and fell, banging her legs hard against the steps, and a moment later she felt a hand grabbing her ankle. Turning, she saw that Tom had already reached her, and she screamed as he grabbed the knife's handle and used it to start pulling her back down the stairs, tearing through her flesh in the process. The harder he pulled, the further down the knife moved as it carved through her shoulder and toward the small of her back.
“Help me!” she shouted, looking up toward the door at the top of the stairs. “Somebody, please -”
Suddenly the door opened, revealing a figure silhouetted against the lights above.
“Help me!” Katie screamed, before Tom clamped his hand over her mouth and began to pull her down. She tried again to call out, but blood loss was making it difficult for her to even stay conscious. Despite a desperate sense of fear, she felt too weak to fight back, even as he turned her body around and pulled the knife from her shoulder. Leaning over her, he raised the blade and -
“Stop!”
The next few seconds were a blur. Katie felt herself being dropped, landing hard against the steps, as a gunshot rang out and part of the nearby wall exploded. Plaster dust rained down, and when she opened her eyes she saw that the figure from the top of the stairs was running down with a rifle in his hands. He dropped down next to her and rolled her over, checking for a pulse as a second figure followed.
“Is she okay?” the woman asked.
“She needs help. You have to get her to a hospital.”
“But -”