by Amy Cross
Turning the pipe, Greg peered down the end before holding it up so that Colin could see there was nothing inside.
“It must have gone further down,” Colin continued, looking down at the connector. “It must have come all the way up through the pipes in the building, and now it's gone back.” Grabbing the pipe, he held it close to his eye and peered through, but all he could see was empty space. “I'm not messing about,” he added, turning to Greg. “There was this thing, like one end of a black snake, except it was pointy and it didn't have eyes or a mouth.” He paused, trying not to panic. “I reckon it was a tentacle.”
“A tentacle?”
“It must've been.”
“In the pipes here at Apocalypse?”
“I know what I saw!”
“I know people sometimes flush weird stuff, but -”
“It was alive!”
“Maybe you've been affected by fumes,” Greg continued, setting the pipe back into the connector. “Mate, you should go outside and get some fresh air, 'cause you're not making a whole lot of sense right now.” He leaned closer to the end of the pipe. “Hello!” he called out. “Any squid monsters down there? Could you make yourself known if you're around, 'cause otherwise my mate here's gonna end up looking like a total idiot!”
“Laugh it up,” Colin replied, getting to his feet and heading to the door, “but I'm gonna take a look in the basement.”
“You want me to come with you? Might be handy in case there's a whole army of 'em down there.”
“Just fix the damn pipes,” Colin muttered, clearly not impressed as he made his way out into the corridor. “I'll be back when I've checked a few things out.”
“It's your head that needs checking out,” Greg said with a smile as he began to put the u-bend in place. “I might not know much about the world, but I'm pretty damn sure you won't find an octopus in the plumbing system.”
***
Swiping his access card in the reader, Colin was surprised to see a red light flash. He tried again, with the same result.
“What the actual hell?” he muttered, taking a step back from the door.
He was down in the basement of the nightclub, in a long corridor with large pipes running along the ceiling. The sound of loud music could still be heard thumping through the concrete walls, but he was more concerned with the fact that despite working in the janitorial department, he apparently couldn't access the pump room or any of the areas covering the building's maintenance needs. Having tried three doors now, he'd begun to feel as if someone was extremely keen to ensure that he couldn't get his job done.
“Sod this,” he muttered, taking a screwdriver from his belt and getting down on his knees, determined to remove the entire lock from the door so he could get inside. “I'll show that idiot I was right. Something's in the -”
“Can I help you?”
Turning, he saw that a well-dressed man in a white suit was standing just a few feet away, having evidently managed to sneak up without making a sound. The man's calm, almost preternaturally still demeanor made him seem somewhat out of place in the heart of the Apocalypse building, but at the same time he also appeared to be completely at ease, as if he felt very much in control.
“Who are you?” Colin asked.
“My name is David Ford,” the man replied, “and I'm an assistant to Mr. Andreas Velucci, the man who owns this particular establishment. If I'm not mistaken, you appear to be trying to break into one of our rooms.”
“I work here,” Colin replied, getting to his feet and reaching out to shake the man's hand.
“So I see,” Ford replied, eyeing Colin's outstretched hand with evident distaste. “I hope you won't be offended if I don't shake that thing,” he continued. “I just... Well, I'm sure you understand.”
“I'm sure I do,” Colin muttered, wiping his hand on the side of his overalls. “Look, the thing is, I need to check something to do with the plumbing, but my swipe card won't let me into any of the rooms down here.”
“No,” Ford said, “I imagine it won't.”
“So that's gotta be a mistake, right? I mean, I need to get in so I can do my job.”
“If there's something you require in one of those rooms,” Ford continued, “you can make a note on the shift log, and I will ensure that someone takes a look.”
“Right.” Colin paused. “You see, the thing is, if I could just go in and poke about for a bit, I'm sure there'd be no need to trouble anyone else.”
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“Just...” He paused again, keenly aware that he couldn't tell the truth. “Nothing much, just this and that. To tell the truth, I can't really describe it. I'd just know it if I saw it.”
“You're not giving me much to go on.”
“I really need to get in there,” Colin continued. “I mean, if I'm gonna work here as a plumber, I kinda need to get into all the rooms in the basement.” He waited for a reply, but Ford was simply staring at him with a calm, almost blank expression. “You get that, right?” he continued finally. “I kinda need to be able to access all areas, if you know what I mean.”
“I'm afraid that won't be possible.”
“But -”
“You will have to confine yourself to the parts of the building that you can access with your swipe card. Next time you find a door that you can't get through, I would advise you to take the hint and not try to force the matter.” He looked down at the screwdriver in Colin's hand. “Is that regulation issue equipment from the storeroom?”
“It's mine. I brought it in.”
“You're not supposed to bring outside equipment into the facility,” Ford replied. “Please respect that rule from now on.”
“Facility?” Colin asked. “You mean the club?”
“I'm sure you have plenty of work to be doing elsewhere in the building,” Ford continued, turning and making his way toward the stairs. “If you feel you can't work under these conditions, Mr. Bamford, you are of course welcome to seek alternative employment. I'm sure a man of your talents would have no trouble finding a job somewhere in this town of... considerable opportunity.”
“Sure,” Colin replied, looking down at his access badge to double-check that it didn't include his name, which it didn't. “You, uh...” He paused, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “You know my name, then?”
“Get back to work,” Ford replied, not even stopping to look back as he headed up the stairs. “Any further attempts to access restricted parts of the facility will result in your immediate termination. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Colin muttered, watching as Ford disappeared from view. With a sigh, he turned and looked at the door he'd been trying to get through, before figuring that he simply had to go back to Greg so they could finish fixing the dodgy bathroom on the fifth floor. Still, he knew what he'd seen, and no amount of ribbing from anyone was going to dissuade him.
A moment later, once Colin had gone back upstairs, the tip of a thin black tendril briefly flicked out from under the door, before retracting again.
Chapter Eleven
“Who are we?” some girls were singing at the top of their voices as they ran past the all-night burger bar next to the beach. “Come on, who are we?”
Sitting on the remains of an old broken wall, Judy watched as the sun began to rise over the calm Mediterranean sea. After what had felt like an eternity inside the pounding, pulsing Apocalypse nightclub, she and her sister – not to mention hundreds of other drunk holiday-makers – had spilled out onto the strip and then down to the beach, where the party atmosphere was continuing with revelers drinking and dancing on the sand. Exhausted, Judy just wanted to go back to the hotel room and sleep, but she knew she couldn't leave without Merrie, who was drunk and not entirely capable of looking after herself. Someone had to be the responsible – and maybe slightly boring – sister.
“Damn it!” a familiar voice shouted nearby.
Turning, Judy saw that Gemma's hot dog had slipped
from the bun, landing in a ketchup-and-mustard-covered mess on the cracked concrete walkway.
“Five second rule?” Merrie suggested.
“Don't be gross,” Gemma replied, turning back to the window of the burger bar. “They're only a euro, I'll get you another.”
Allowing herself a faint, tired smile, Judy got to her feet and looked out toward the horizon. Day hadn't fully arrived yet, but there was just enough sunlight to cast long shadows across the sand, while the sky was becoming redder by the minute, almost as if the heavens were starting to burn.
“You alright?” Merrie asked, wandering over while chewing a burger. “Had a good night, did you?”
“I'm good,” Judy replied, trying to sound convincing. “Tired, but good.”
“I'm gonna sleep today,” Merrie continued, glancing back to make sure that Kay was still sleeping unmolested at the far end of the wall. “She's gonna have such a hangover when she wakes up. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna survive a whole week of nights like this.”
“Me neither,” Judy muttered.
“Lighten up,” Merrie said, nudging her arm. “I was only joking. I'm totally psyched, and you'd better be too. We're troopers.”
“Do you want to go come down to the water?” Judy asked, reaching down and taking her shoes off, finally letting her bare feet rest on the sand. “Just for a minute?”
“I'd better stay up here with Sleeping Beauty,” Merrie replied. “You go, though. We'll head back to the hotel when we've eaten, yeah?”
“Sure.”
Making her way across the sand, navigating a path around the drunks and kissing couples, and conspicuously avoiding the outnumbered police officers who were trying and failing to keep order, Judy made her way to the bottom of the sloping beach, stopping only when she felt cool seawater lapping over her toes and feet. She smiled as a shiver passed through her body, and she realized that – for better or for worse – a night out with a few drinks had made the pain vanish from her belly. She was too superstitious to start thinking that her problem had miraculously vanished, but she figured she'd at least be able to make it through the holiday.
And then she'd go see a doctor when she got home. She wouldn't chicken out this time.
As the sky seemed to become even redder, she wandered a little way along the shore, while constantly glancing back to make sure she didn't lose sight of Merrie and the others. Reaching the shade of an old jetty, she stopped for a moment, glad to be away from the crowd. She looked up for a moment, marveling at the fact that the sky had become redder still, and she found herself wondering just how red it could become. There seemed to be a kind of haze in the air, too, as if everything around her was shimmering slightly.
Suddenly she saw him.
Beyond the jetty, a little way up toward a set of huts, the dark, skull-faced figure from the nightclub was standing calmly, watching her.
Stopping, she looked over her shoulder, only now realizing just how far she'd come from the rest of the crowd. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, she took a step back and turned to look at the figure again. In the warm, reddish light of morning, she could seem him much better now. He was wearing a dark shawl, with a hood on the top that allowed just his bony face to show through, lit by the sun. His eyes weren't really eyes at all, just two dark holes where eyeballs should have been, and his bare teeth were crooked and damaged, as if at some point they'd been heavily impacted.
And she couldn't stop looking at him.
It was as if his gaze was magnetic, drawing her closer. After a moment she realized she'd actually taken a step forward, then another, and she had to focus on stopping herself. The thought of going closer to the skull-faced man filled her with terror, yet a moment later she did the same thing again. There was some other sensation in her chest now, a kind of curiosity... or was it more than that? As much as she wanted to go no closer to the skull-faced man, she felt strangely as if she had no choice, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to go to him. As if she belonged with him.
She began to raise her right hand.
Suddenly she heard a scream from back toward the crowd.
She turned for a moment and saw people running past the distant burger bar. When she looked back toward the figure, she realized that he was gone. Worried about her sister, she began to run toward the crowd, finally stopping when she reached the wall and found to her relief that Merrie, Gemma and the still-sleeping Kay were fine.
“What's wrong?” she asked, watching as a couple of police officers raced along the beach as shocked, screaming girls ran the other way.
“Dunno,” Merrie muttered, taking a bite of her burger. “Seems like someone's upset over something. Whatever. I don't do drama.”
Determined to find out what was happening, Judy left the others and made her way across the sand. More and more people hurried past, going the other way, although some people were standing around, staring at a dark shape down by the edge of the water. As she got closer, Judy saw that several police officers were already at the scene, and that one was kneeling next to what appeared to be a human body.
Once she was just a few meters away, Judy stopped and realized that she recognized the yellow dress that fluttered in the gentle morning breeze.
It was the girl she'd seen the night before, the girl who'd wandered out of the nightclub.
Taking a step closer, she saw that the fabric of the dress was stained red. Something was glinting in the morning sun, and a moment later she realized that the girl's ribs were poking out, as if something had torn her chest apart down the middle and opened it to the sun. Several bloodied organs were glistening, while a few others had been pulled out and scattered over the sand. The girl's head was tilted back, her golden hair mixing with the sand, and her mouth was wide open while her arms were stretched out to either side.
“It's so horrible,” a sobbing girl said nearby, as she was being comforted by some of her friends.
One of the police officers shouted something in Spanish. Whatever he was saying, he repeated it a moment later, sounding angry this time as he waved for everyone to go away.
“Woah,” Merrie said, catching up to Judy and stopping next to her. “Is that a real dead body?”
“I think so,” Judy replied, her voice trembling with shock.
“Are you sure? Maybe it's, like, a Banksy stunt or something.”
“It's real,” Judy continued, taking a deep breath. She couldn't stop staring at the girl's ribs, which were like the fingers of a partially opened hand as they curled out from her chest.
In the distance, sirens could be heard getting closer.
And then, slowly, the ribs began to open wider still, tearing at the flesh as they parted as wide as possible, as if they were offering a welcome. Or an invitation.
“Did you see that?” Judy asked, shocked that nobody else seemed to have reacted. She looked around. “Tell me you saw that!”
“Saw what?” Merrie asked.
“Her ribs just -”
Turning back to look at the body, Judy saw that the police were still pushing people back. She told herself that if anything untoward had happened just now, the police would have noticed, which meant that it must have been all in her head. The body hadn't moved at all.
“Nothing,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “Forget it. It was nothing.”
“This is so gross,” Merrie continued. “I've never seen a dead person before. I mean, apart from Mum. I've never seen anyone like this. Oh my God, do you think she was murdered?”
“I don't know,” Judy replied, before turning to look back along at the jetty and spotting the huts where the skull-faced man had been standing just a few minutes ago. She figured that he couldn't be responsible, since the person who killed the girl must have made a quick getaway before the screams started, but still...
“Everyone back!” one of the officers shouted in broken English. “Everyone get back! There is nothing to see here!”
“Wow,” Me
rrie muttered, turning to Judy. “They said a night at Apocalypse would be memorable, but I don't think this is quite what they had in mind.” She craned her neck in an attempt to get a slightly better view. “Gross.”
Chapter Twelve
“Hello?” Ruth called out, stopping in the main room and seeing that there was no-one around. “Mr. Velucci? Mr. Ford?”
She waited, but there was no reply. The villa seemed empty, and she hadn't heard so much as a hint of anyone else since she'd got up half an hour ago.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Making her way across the study, she stopped at the window and looked out. The sun had risen above the distant horizon, bathing Mallaca in a warm morning light. Seeing the town far below, she figured that there'd be a lot of hungover people sleeping in the hotels, and for a moment she couldn't help thinking of Javier and Colin opening up the tattoo shop for another day's barren trade. Just for a moment, she missed them.
Forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, she headed over to one of the other doors and leaned through to the corridor. After a moment, she realized she could hear a voice in the distance, so she made her way along to the next door, by which point she could hear Mr. Velucci speaking to someone on the phone.
“It's not accelerated at all,” he was saying. “The Camp Everbee situation was a long time ago, if they were going to get anywhere they'd have done it by now. Leadenford was even further in the past. The Pure One is close, I can feel it. As for Caitlin, she's of no consequence. Mr. Ford wanted to conduct some form of experiment, but I didn't bother paying attention to the details. I focus entirely on the bigger picture.”
Reaching the arched doorway, Ruth paused for a moment, listening to the conversation.
“No,” Mr. Velucci continued, “the timing is perfect. These things happen for a reason and I have no doubt that external factors will attempt to interfere. There will be no -”
He stopped suddenly.
Realizing that she might have been noticed, Ruth stepped into view and smiled, hoping that it wouldn't seem as if she'd been eavesdropping.