by Krishna Ahir
Perhaps that night wasn't going to be so bad after all.
He had left his house and sat in Barbara's father's car feeling nothing but dread. In spite of all of Barbara's reassurance, he could think of nothing worse than going out that night, especially considering the awkward liaison with Georgina at his front door. Now that he was actually committing to his attendance, his mind had whirled into overdrive and every curious and uncomfortable feeling he had ever felt about Georgina returned full force, slamming into him like a wrecking ball. Yes, she was attractive. Yes, she was good conversation. But that was where it ended. Now that he was on the spot and under the pressure of committing to a decision, he couldn't imagine having a relationship with her. Not with all of the uncomfortable feelings plucking at him. It wasn't a slight against her (at least this was how he rationalized it), rather that he knew that Georgina wasn't right for him.
All that was left was to tell her.
Unfortunately, since Christopher had arrived at Eric's house at just after eight, he had yet to see her. Now that it was closer to half past nine, he was wondering if Georgina was even going to show up at all.
He had looked for her, initially, however after half an hour he had grown sick of wading through the sweaty bodies of people inside the house and retreated to the garden. There (he hoped) he would at least have some time away from all of the inebriated rubberneckers.
That was when he had seen Maddie, through the glass of the patio doors.
Seemingly making a point of standing separate from everybody else, the way that she held herself was what had first caught Christopher's attention. Rather than slouching awkwardly, her back was straight and her shoulders thrown back. A confident air had clung to the girl despite the fact that (until he had nutted up and gone over to her) she had been stood alone for half an hour.
He admired the confidence that it took to stand isolated in the middle of a party and not seem affected by it. Maddie was comfortable in her own skin and enjoyed her own company.
Having watched her for close to thirty minutes, Christopher had decided to finally go up and talk to the girl. Impolitely excusing himself from yet another asinine attempt at concern, he approached Maddie through the sliding doors. At that point the fact that he had only seen the back of her head was irrelevant. What she looked like had no bearing on his desire for conversation with a like-minded individual.
As it stood, however, he was pleasantly surprised when she had turned around.
Much like her younger brother, Maddie's hair was dark and curly, falling in thick locks around her face. Her skin was a pale olive tone and her eyes were bright green, the contrast catching Christopher's attention and holding him transfixed for the majority of their conversation.
Watching her disappear back inside the house, Christopher found himself eyeing the backside of her jeans. Catching himself, he attempted to suppress the blush spreading across his cheeks.
Christopher, usually oblivious to the advances of girls, and hesitant to act on any kind of romantic situation, felt something stir inside of him. Something that he hadn't felt in a long time. Elusive and fleeting, it danced through him quickly, leaving him dazed and light headed.
He wanted to get to know Maddie better. He wanted to see more of her.
Perhaps, he thought, this could be where things start to get better.
Had Christopher had even the slightest idea of what was coming, he would have realized just how wrong he was.
Chapter 9
Dumping her younger brother into his bed and leaving him to writhe in drunken pathetic state, Maddie let out a long breath and pushed her hair out of her face.
Uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, Maddie kept an eye on him for several long moments to make sure that he didn't vomit. Before long, however, she decided to vacate the premises.
She hated being in Eric's bedroom. The space smelt musky, the result of an overfull wash basket and a lack of ventilation.
Closing the door behind her, Maddie paused and directed a number of party guests away from the room. A gaggle of Eric's friends, who had followed her upstairs, hung around the hallway, lingering and flitting about like flies.
Turning towards them, she sighed half-heartedly. "He should be alright for now, but one or two of you should probably watch him. Make sure he doesn't drink anymore or throw up. Right?"
The closest two nodded, just about managing to direct their response at her before she quickly departed.
Maddie was confident that her brother's friends could look after him. And if they didn't then, as far as she was concerned, anything that happened to him wasn't her fault. Little brother be damned, he wasn't her responsibility. Especially seeing as he had done it to himself.
Plus, Maddie was eager to get back on her way. Get back to Christopher and finish their conversation.
Maybe even finish something else.
Talking to hazel-eyed young man had filled her with an excited flutter. Eager need and expectation throbbed through her womb. Be it the alcohol or simply Christopher's charm, she knew what she wanted. It was just a case of if he wanted the same.
But there are ways of testing that, she thought.
Hurrying into the bathroom, Maddie quickly peeled off her top and unhooked the clasp of her bra before stuffing it into the airing cupboard beneath the sink. Settling into a casual standing position, in front of the mirror, she pinched her nipples, tweaking them into stiff nubs. Satisfied by the effects, she swiftly redressed before again examining herself in the reflective glass. Two rigid peaks stood at attention, visible beneath the fabric of the shirt.
Pushing through the swarm of bodies, Maddie descended the staircase and began to scan the crowd for Christopher's face. As had been the case for the majority of the night, almost everyone made a pointed effort avoid meeting her eye. A number of girls sat around the dining table, sipping bottles of luminous blue alcohol, while a crowd of boys tried with all their might to impress them. Stood in the corner, a girl tapped away at her phone, no doubt drunk-texting a boy that she liked, while across the room a small group were talking amongst themselves.
The cool air plucked at her nipples, hardening them even more, as she slipped out the back door and into the garden.
He was exactly where she had left him, sat down on the decorative patio wall.
"You know, I was actually worried that you wouldn't be coming back," he said, with a grin.
"Come on, do you really think I would do that to you?"
"Honestly, I don't know what to think," Christopher replied, the corners of his eyes narrowing discerningly. "I did only meet you half an hour ago. Really, I don't know you from Nash."
"Who's this Nash?" she teased. "Anyone I need to watch out for? I'm not much of a fan of competition."
"I don't think you need to worry about anyone," he said, rising. "Plus, between you and me, you're much prettier than him."
Maddie fanned her face with her hand and laughed. "Oh my, Mr. Douglas. You're flattering me."
"At least I'm doing something right." He took a drink from the plastic cup clasped in his fist. The strong scent of spirits wafted off of his breath and into the air.
"Moving on to stronger stuff?" she asked, indicating the vodka.
"Well, you know... Gotta spice things up a bit. Plus, I'm going to need a bit of liquid courage if I want to get anywhere with you."
"Are my ears deceiving me, or did you just admit that you were going to try it on with me?" Maddie laughed. "That takes guts. What if I don't feel the same? Hm?"
"Then I really must be seeing things," Christopher replied. "Because it looks to me like you took off your bra." He smiled coyly and flicked his eyes down her shirt, before returning them to Maddie's face. "Admit it," he added, playfully. "You're trying to seduce me."
Maddie's olive cheeks tinged pink. She wasn't used to being so blatantly called out on her advances. "I might be."
"Come on," he said softly, putting down the cup and taking off his coat. "You
know you didn't have to do that to get my attention. Here. You can have this." Passing Maddie the light brown workman's coat, he pointed at her chest and laughed. "You look like you need it. Those things could cut glass."
Maddie laughed and slipped on the coat. Inhaling sharply, she quickly breathed in his scent. "You're very forward."
"It's better than being backwards."
Again, she found herself softly chuckling. "Funny too."
"I try."
"You succeed."
Sitting back down on the wall, Christopher patted the stone surface beside him. "Care to join me for a sit?"
"Don't mind if I do."
Looking up at Christopher, her green eyes traced the line of his jaw and settled onto the thin line of his lips. She kept her eyes on them as he spoke.
For over an hour they sat and talked about everything and nothings. They could have been talking about anything in the world and it wouldn't have mattered. Their conversation flowed smoothly, meandering effortlessly through the vibrant fields of interest and attraction, with no indication of an approaching coast.
In the recesses of her mind, Maddie thanked her brother for throwing the party; for telling his guests to ignore her. For had he not, she would never have been approached by Christopher.
When he put a hand on her knee, her entire body shivered. Shifting, Maddie attempted to cover the unintentional reaction by acting as if she were cold.
Christopher noticed the motion and beamed softly. "I'm really happy I met you tonight."
God, he knows exactly what to say, her mind rolled as Maddie reached out and gripped the cup that Christopher had set aside. Bringing it to her lips, the burn of vodka swam past her gums before dropping down her throat.
She wanted to kiss him; to wind her fingers through the soft brown locks of his hair and knot her tongue inside his mouth. She wanted to run her hands over his chest, before slipping them behind his back and cupping the mound of his ass. He had good legs and an even better bum. Maddie could see it through his tight blue jeans.
A dry sensation gripped her mouth, like it had been stuffed with wads of cotton. Moving her tongue about her teeth, moisture returned just in time for her to reply. "I'm really glad I met you too."
Again he flashed that killer smile, and she knew that she was done. She wanted him.
__________________________________
Georgina Bell stepped towards the patio doors, just in time to see it happen.
Her feet locked up, like they had been trapped in a pit of tar, and the corner of her eye twitched; throbbing like a tiny heart.
She watched as the girl (the girl wearing his coat) looped her arms around Christopher's neck and stuck her tongue down his throat.
For a brief, hopeful instant Georgina expected Christopher to push her away. To hold the girl at arm's reach and explain that he liked someone else. But he didn't. He leaned forwards and stroked the side of her face with his fingers, tracing the edge of her ear gently.
Incredulous rage flared inside her chest, igniting an ether of jealous spite.
Georgina could do nothing but watch, dumbstruck, as the pair rose and moved about the garden, joined at the lips. They sauntered hungrily, entwined in each other, before disappearing through the back door and into the house.
Following them with her eyes, Georgina felt acid course through her veins.
Christopher and the girl ascended the staircase and vanished into an empty bedroom, shutting the door behind them.
Gregory and Osborne had to race a storm to the train tracks. A call had come in early in the day about a potential dump site, forcing them to move fast lest they be washed from the scene.
Upon their arrival, the rain was just starting to spit down.
Iron tracks split the ground, hard brown and flecked with splashes of orange rust. All around, small grey stones had been scattered, interrupted occasionally by a flash of green where grass had managed to sprout through. Bordering the transport line, at the bottom of parallel slopes, were a number of bushes. The parasitic shrubbery had grafted itself onto the erected fences, winding through the thin links of metal.
The leaves had been disturbed, in a section roughly a meter and a half wide. Somebody had taken a pair of cutters to the fence, clipping the thin metal diamonds one by one until a sizable hole was opened. Snaking down towards the empty space, from the tracks, a thick line of crimson red glared up at the officers, like a pair of tightly-pursed painted lips.
And, laid on the tracks, was a mound of mangled cat corpses.
"No doubt about it," Drake said, crouching down beside the pile. Around his feet, the plastic bags that covered his shoes shimmered in the light. "This is definitely our guy."
Osborne hung back, holding a hand in front of his nose and mouth to fight back a gag. "Fuck, don't stand so close to it."
Confused, Drake looked up at his new partner and lifted one eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
Osborne averted his eyes. "It's disgusting."
"Aren't you supposed to be a Detective?" Drake asked. "I'd have thought you'd be used to this."
He scoffed. "No. I mostly deal with rape, and drugs, and-"
"Murder?" the Constable persisted.
"Stabbings," Osborne replied, bluntly. "And shootings. Not... Disfiguring shit." Quickly moving his mismatched eyes back to his comrade, he glanced over him. "How come you're so okay with it?"
"I usually work traffic collisions," Drake explained. "I'm used to seeing mangled bodies like this."
"Whatever..." Turning his attention away from his partner, Osborne started to question the National Rail employee who stood behind him.
Forensics Investigators had already arrived and were in the process of erecting a tent around the site, to protect it from the weather. The scene was quickly whipped up into a frenzied atmosphere. Photographs were snapped, police tape was strung out, and evidence was bagged and tagged.
As everything around him moved at lightning speed, Drake stayed crouched, staring intently at the cat corpses. His eyes begged them to reveal their secrets: To tell him exactly what had happened; to scream at him who had killed them.
All of a sudden, a thought flashed through his mind.
"Why did he make the dump here?" he called over his shoulder, at Osborne.
The excessively hairy man abruptly turned away from the rail employee, leaving her stunned at his rudeness. "What?" he asked, gruffly.
"Why were the cats dumped here?" Drake reiterated. "At the college they were left there because our guy knew the routine; knew that he wouldn't be caught. That's how we know there's a connection to the college. But why here? What's the link to the train tracks?"
"What makes you think there is one?"
"Because it's out in the open." He stood up and indicated the scene. As he did so, the rain started to come down even harder. Lashing down onto the tent now covering them, the water roared over the top of their conversation. In response, Drake raised his voice. "What about this place made him pick it? Why risk getting caught like this?"
"Maybe he wanted to stop the trains?"
Osborne bowled out the phrase so suddenly, Drake was momentarily taken aback. "What was that?"
"The train. He probably wanted to stop it."
"But why would he-?" Drake stopped short and directed his attention to the National Rail employee. A subtle urgency gripped his voice. "What's down the line from here?"
"One direction is a straight route to Highwich," she replied. "But that's a twenty minute drive."
"And the other way?"
"Rosefield station. But why does that matter?"
"Is the station manned?" Osborne asked, sharply.
"Sometimes," the woman replied. "Usually only by one guy though. It's not really used that much. It's a tiny station. Only five people get on from there a day. At most." She suddenly stopped to think. "Actually..."
Drake lowered his brows. "Actually, what?"
"It might be more today..."
"And
why's that?"
"There are repairs happening at Grand Stone Bay this weekend. Some of the lines out of there are closed, so passengers may have to get replacements from other stations. Rosefield is one of them."
Osborne abruptly departed, heading straight for his car. Giving chase, Drake ran up behind him, into the pouring rain. "What are you thinking?"
"I think they wanted to get someone alone. Stop the train, no one comes to the station."
"Really?"
"It's what I'd do."
__________________________________
Chapter 10
The station attendant smirked down at Maddie as he passed her the ticket, eyeing the valley of her cleavage in a stare that lasted far too long.
Snatching the orange stub of paper out of his hand, she pulled an unattractive face, like she had just stepped in dog mess. Maddie was in a foul mood and the never-ending slew of bad luck that had hit her that day didn't seem to be letting up at all.
When gathering up her things, for her trip back to university, Maddie discovered that one of Eric's intoxicated party guests had decided to use the clean laundry hamper as their own personal sick bucket. Forced to stay behind and do almost all of her washing again, she had missed the train back to London from the Grand Stone Bay Station. Not that it would have mattered. As she arrived at the station for the next departure, Maddie discovered that planned repairs were being conducted on the line from Friday through to the Sunday. Crammed inside a too-small replacement bus, she was forced to traverse the countryside and get a train from the much smaller station on the outskirts of Rosefield.
Mostly unmanned and several decades old, the Rosefield station didn't even have a ticket machine. Constructed from browning yellow bricks, it was little more than a concrete platform, bordering rusted iron tracks. Graffiti had been sprayed onto a number of the walls, yet nobody had bothered to clean it off, leaving it to wither and fade. Set into the middle of an otherwise empty field, bordering a seldom-used country road, it was so out of place that it almost hurt.
Then there was the employees. Or rather employee. Ever since Maddie had arrived, stepping off the bus on her own, he had done nothing but stare at her. She could feel his oily gaze slicking over her, to the point where she could almost see a visible shine on her skin. It made her feel uneasy and wrong.