by Marc Horn
But, no! I do care. There is something here that had been buried deep. It cannot be love, but I know it’s close to that. My eyes seal shut again. In my mind I scream for them to open. I’m delirious, I know that. The drugs are making my thoughts and emotions swim in my mind.
The pile of bricks, dull red, about the size of a Ford Transit, float in my mind. Burton closing in on them, Cassandra cowering behind them. I’m still screaming at my eyes, because now I’m imagining what’s happening. Events are unfolding both in my mind and at the same time on the balcony. But only the balcony is real.
Now I’m back, now I can see again. Yes, I’m certain – Burton has inched closer, now he’s eight feet from the stack. And then I feel a maddening, itching sensation over my entire body as Burton arcs his body to the right, training the weapon on that side of the bricks. He knows what she’s going to do, knows she’s going to step out that side and try to take him down. He’ll blow her head off the moment she steps into view.
I can’t bear this. I almost voluntarily shut my eyes. And then Cassandra appears from the left side of the bricks. By the time Burton realises this, she’s facing him. He turns fast, but she blasts him in the stomach and he staggers backwards and then drops to the floor, his gun sliding across the concrete towards her.
I watch with elation and surprise as blood drips out of his shirt and he roars with pain...
‘You stupid, fucking bitch! You kill me and we all die!’ He stares up at her, his face red with rage and fear. ‘You’re- you’re not fucking linked. It- it can’t be you. I couldn’t read you! I- I- arghhh!’
Burton whines as he unbuttons his shirt, and keels over as he pulls the sleeves from his arms. Then he forces himself back up onto his arse and ties the shirt tightly around his bloody stomach. After this, he reaches around his body and feels his back for an exit wound.
I hear someone else. Someone else is in my flat. As Burton presses the shirt against his stomach, I see a woman step onto the balcony. Her hair is grey and brittle, her face creased and pale, and her posture a little stooped. She wears a maroon shirt and a dark skirt.
When she looks at me, I realise who she is.
‘I am the fifth link.’
46
It takes all my strength just to open my lips, so I cannot speak. I want to ask, ‘Mum, where do I come from?’ and ‘What am I?’ I can feel tears forming in my eyes.
Burton shakes his head, his bloody hands clasped together against his stomach. ‘Claudia Vice. I should—’ Another cry of pain. ‘I should’ve seen that. You left him – a child – to fend for himself. And now it’s come to this because of you.’
My mother stands beside Cassandra, who still has the gun fixed on Burton. She ignores him and walks up to me. ‘My poor son,’ she says, leaning in to stroke my hair. But her blue eyes are cold and her voice is unbroken. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She speaks authoritatively, confidently, with conviction. ‘I couldn’t cope after your father died. You became so needy, and I couldn’t bear knowing that you had engineered his death.’ She looks me right in the eye, but there is no guilt evident. Am I supposed to express guilt? Is that what she’s getting at? After all, he was her husband.
‘You were causing yourself all this suffering and it was so traumatic for me. I just couldn’t stay, I couldn’t. It’s not the simple case of a mother abandoning her child. I was a widow distancing herself from the child who killed her husband.’
I still feel so thankful to see her, the only woman I have ever loved. I want her to put her arms around me, to embrace me and I know that the tears streaming down my face reveal that need. But she’s crippling these desperate emotions, by mixing them with guilt. I’m so sorry about my father, of course I am. I’ve suffered for it all my life. But must she focus on that? Can’t she see I’m in pain and I need her? Need her reassurance?
‘Living with the truth was exhausting for me, Kane. You were a little boy who had an indescribably important role. Since I was linked, I was influenced by my survival instincts. With that in mind, I couldn’t possibly be a mother to you. I had the entire world to look after. Billions of people had to come first. I had to serve their interests.’
What is this? I weep. What is she on about? I was- I am her son. Where was her loyalty to me?
‘You got too fucking involved!’ Burton cries. His moans in the background have been constant. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing. Hey,’ he says, now addressing Cassandra, ‘you need to fire some bullets into that bitch. She’s a liability!’
My mother turns to face him. ‘And look where your actions have taken us. He’s weak, wounded and immobilised. And now he’s wanted for murder.’
‘You killed that black bitch!’ he screams. ‘Now we have minimal access to him! You any idea how much more difficult that makes things?’
‘She suggested to him that he kill himself!’ she protests, but uncertainty is evident in her delivery.
‘He was in a fucking secure hospital!’ Burton rasps. ‘He had access to nothing that could’ve assisted him with suicide.’ I watch my mother swallow hard. ‘I was monitoring him. They were increasing his dosage, things were under control. At that point there was nothing you could do to convince him otherwise. He knew it was his world. But it didn’t matter. He was in the right place to believe that, because no one would believe him and airing such delusions would keep him under section. It was perfect!’
More silence from my mother.
‘I know what I’m doing,’ Burton shouts. ‘I’ve been doing this for thirty-three years while you’ve been running off and meddling.’ He stares at Cassandra. ‘Other links interfere, Cassandra, that’s all they do. We’re better off with just me.’ Cassandra still has the gun on him, but I can tell she’s listening to him too. ‘Because of that stupid woman, our links are now partly severed. She’s been tasking you and look where it’s got you – you’ve killed three coppers. You’re wanted for murder, love. And you’ve killed someone he adored. She’s used you and unless you work with me, he’s gonna tear your limbs off.’
‘Cassandra,’ my mother interjects, ‘we can do this ourselves. We don’t need him. Put him out of his suffering.’
‘But...’ Cassandra responds weakly. ‘What will we do, Claudia?’
‘He’s right about this,’ she says, pointing her hand towards my limp frame. ‘We just need to keep him controlled like this. Drugs... The mental health unit.’
‘But... he’s- he’ll be a vegetable... how could you bear that?’
‘The many are more important than the few, my dear.’
I look at Cassandra. She meets my eyes. I see tears well up in hers. She walks towards me, on the way kicking Burton’s weapon towards the other side of the balcony. As her beautiful face floats above mine, she says, ‘Razors, my darling, you’ve got it all wrong.’ Her tears are swelling and a couple drop onto my cheek. She wipes them off with her thumb. ‘They’re- they’re misleading you. It’s nonsense... this- this fairy-tale that it’s your world. It’s… a fantasy, a delusion. You’re sick, that’s all… They just want you sectioned because you’re dangerous. That’s what this is really all about.’
‘It’s too fucking late for that!’ Burton roars. ‘He fucking knows!’
‘He’s right, Cassandra,’ my mother says, stroking her back. ‘It has to be this way now. It’s the way forward now.’
‘No, Razors, don’t listen to them! I- I killed Hilda because she pulled out a knife. She tried to stab me. She was harming you, filling your mind with nonsense. I wanted to tell her to stop. That’s why I visited her.’
My mother laughs. ‘Cassandra, you need to pull yourself together.’
‘I- I love you. I was so ashamed of what my father did, but I wanted you to know that he wasn’t working alone. It was Burton that planned everything.’ She bows her head. ‘We are so alike, you and me, Razors. We are meant to be together.’
My mother curls her fingers around Cassandra’s gun hand. ‘You know what must be done, Cassand
ra. Don’t disobey me now. Burton will kill us the moment he has the chance. If you don’t want to do it, I will. We need to put him out of his misery.’
‘You’re right,’ Cassandra says, sucking in air and standing up straight. She wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve, and then turns around to face Burton.
He’s a pitiful figure, cowering there on the floor, arms shielding his face, scrunching up his injured body as if it might make him bullet proof. I want to watch this. I want to watch this evil piece of shit die. But then Burton opens his arms and watches wide-eyed when Cassandra turns back round to face me.
Her striking blue eyes are sad and happy at once, as is her smile, as she points the weapon at my heart. And I know that hers is the last face that I’ll see. If I had to choose which face I’d last like to see, from all the billions I’ve created, then it would be hers. I’ve realised something… This is about fulfilling others, not yourself. How far would someone go for you? How much do you mean to them? If you mean nothing, then you’re worthless. If you mean the world to them, you’ve excelled. It’s that judgement that truly counts.
I’m aware that my mother is trying to stop this from happening, but I ignore her as she flaps about in my peripheral vision. The barrel wobbles slightly, but she can’t miss. With the last remnants of my strength, I curl my lips into a smile. I love this girl.
About the Author
Marc was brought up in Dartford, England. Nothing much happened there - landing a job as a banana packer was the highlight - so he spent most of his time lost in his imagination.
Seeking change, he became an airborne soldier (not airborne germ, as a friend once called him) and had to parachute out of the first plane he ever went in. The boring days were over.
He's drawn to stories of hardship and survival. Carlin announcing he's 'The Daddy' in Scum; Brendan fighting for his family in Warrior; David searching for answers in Vanilla Sky.
Marc doesn't hold back when he writes. Much of his work contains black humour. Some might call it a sick sense of humour, but whatever it is you had to have it in the army - you laughed or you cried.
He's into writing psychological thrillers that offer the reader something fresh. He likes to depict thought-provoking, controversial situations and in some cases to make people more aware of uncomfortable but important topics.
Marc has written three novels. THE MORTAL RELIGION has been awarded Rabid Reader's Best Books of 2013; E-thriller's Thriller of the Month in April 2013, and is also listed on 42 Books to Love for Towel Day. PERSONA is a Kindle number 1 bestselling psychological thriller. CUFFED, is listed on Rabid Reader's Best Books of 2014.
He has also just released TIMER, a series of sci-fi novellas, described by the BBC as a 'High-concept and compelling sci-fi series, reminiscent of past hits such as "Logan's Run".' The first episode is free here.
He loves sixties music and studying lyrics, meditation, skiing, off-road cycling, repairing bikes, martial arts and chess. Stay informed about new projects by signing up to his mailing list. Just click the banner and scroll to the bottom of the page.
I hope you enjoyed Cuffed. Please review it wherever you bought it and read what others think. I’m particularly interested in feedback for this novel, as I’m considering writing a prequel. Would you be interested in reading more?
All my books are free. Quite simply, exposure is more important to me than profit. I want readers to experience my work and, if they like it, tell their friends about me.
If you want to make a financial contribution, I suggest a donation to MIND, a charity that caters for some of the issues in this book.
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Also available:
Persona
#1 Kindle Bestseller in Psychological Thrillers
“Persona” was a fabulous read. A brutally raw psychological thriller, Horn’s characters are worthy of Bret Easton Ellis and “The Last Days of Disco” by Whit Stillman. (Rabid Readers Reviews)
To live with no regrets, Ryan vows to try it all — even murder.
Creating a different persona for each pursuit, he soon loses himself in his own dark labyrinth.
Best friend Dave struggles to bring him back — but first must face the darkest side of all.
From readers: 'Impossible to put down'; 'A real page turner'; 'Masterful'; 'Has more layers, digs deeper into the human psyche, and is far more involved than any other psychological thriller.'
Featured on 42 Books to Love for Towel Day
Top 5 bestseller in Kindle Store
Over 35,000 copies sold
An edgy, riveting thriller packed with black humour, inspired twists and gut-churning suspense.
Persona portrays a dark world different and yet alarmingly similar to our own, where personal demons cannot be kept at bay.
WARNING: This novel contains graphic sex scenes, violence and bad language. DO NOT purchase if you’re easily offended. If this isn't the case, you'll find a gripping and unique story that will keep you guessing.
The Mortal Religion
Best Rabid Reader’s Reads of 2013
Chalk Cutter was spitefully nicknamed Moonface as a child, and lives a life of torment and isolation because of his unusual appearance.
Believing only a revolution could induce change, he kidnaps a girl who ridiculed him, intending to re-educate her - and ultimately mankind - in an attempt to lead a narcissistic society to treat all people as equal.
But Chalk hadn’t anticipated his own emotional backlash to the brutal brainwashing process...
His self-control diminishing, and after some reckless actions, his elaborate plan seems little more than a pipe-dream, until an old nemesis infiltrates their world.
This fateful encounter is the catalyst for the creation of The Mortal Religion, the shocking revolution Chalk is certain will breed universal contentment...
E-thriller headlining Thriller of the Month April 2013
Featured on 42 Books to Read for Towel Day (from award-winning review blog)
A dark, disturbing and thought-provoking psychological thriller that explores the effects of social exclusion, THE MORTAL RELIGION takes you deep inside the soul of self-discovery, desperation, and obsession. Unique and perceptive, it will grab you from the first page and not let you go until the last.
Timer
The three blood-red numbers suddenly branded on our chests has given us incredible insight.
We now know how long we will live.
Welcome to a world of paranoia, mistrust and uncertainty, to the darker side of humanity.
Revolutionary novellas from award-winning author Marc Horn, described by the BBC as a 'High-concept and compelling sci-fi series, reminiscent of past hits such as "Logan's Run".
Dedication
This is the first book I feel is 'clean' enough to dedicate to my mother. You always said I'd achieve whatever I set out to. I will miss you always.
Acknowledgments
C Davies – More solid editing and great suggestions.
My wife – For the unwavering support and encouragement.
Angela – We couldn’t get the cover to Persona’s standard, but you helped realize my vision perfectly and made the next step considerably easier. RIP, sweetheart.
Sarah – Awesome digital illustration for the cover, and cracking trailer images.
Morgan – For help with the ‘Fire and Rain’ transcript.
Lee – Timely proof reading and procedural input.
Kam – For the football commentary, design input for the cover and song selection. And for being a good listener (or seasoned bluffer!).
Matt – For the forensic advice.
Table of Contents
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About the Author
Persona
The Mortal Religion
Timer
Acknowledgements