The Remnant Keeper (Tombs Rising Book 1)

by Robert Scott-Norton

  But she didn’t know what she was missing. Sitting on the sea wall, eating chips and gazing across the sea to the distant horizon could help put everything into perspective. “Sometimes it’s the little things that matter,” Jack said.

  She either didn’t hear him or she ignored him, heading instead towards a hulk of a man who’d just got out of his car.

  “You’ve brought someone.” His gravel voice revealed his smoking habit. Jack offered a hand but the man ignored it.

  “This is Jack Winston,” she said cheerfully, then less cheerfully, “the remnant keeper whose wife was murdered a few days ago. I thought he’d be safer with us.”

  “So, you thought you’d bring him here to make him feel safe?” The man burst out laughing. When he’d settled enough to talk he said, “You crack me up, Anna. A pleasure working with you again as always.” He then put his hand towards Jack and Jack shook it, disliking the man. “No hard feelings, Jack. Sorry for your loss. I’m Alan by the way.”

  “You’re a watcher?”

  “Sure am.”

  Alan retrieved a metal security case from the boot of his car. The memory box would be inside; the lock keyed to Alan’s hand print.

  “We should hurry,” he said as they walked towards the entrance to the habitat block. “Have either of you been inside here before?”

  “No,” Jack said, a little too quickly.

  Alan gave him a curious look.

  “I mean, not to this one.”

  Alan nodded, understanding.

  “Well, obviously as this vessel is one of mine.” Anna took the lead. She addressed Jack, “Stay sharp, let no one approach you, don’t talk to anyone. Got it? If trouble kicks off, stay with Alan. He can look after you.”

  “You’re making me think I should have stayed at home.”

  “That might have been the most sensible thing to do,” she countered.

  At the main doors, a small group of children had gathered. The youngest girl couldn’t yet be six, the eldest a boy of about nine; they should have been in school. The doors groaned open automatically and Jack glanced down at the youngest girl, a pretty thing in a tired pink floral dress with hair tied back into messy plaits, and he smiled. She flicked her middle finger and stuck out her tongue. Jack looked away.

  A security drone zoomed down from above and buzzed in front of Jack. He batted it away. Inside the main foyer, more shops and businesses ran along three of the walls, leaving the entrance aspect clear. There was a chemist, a general store with flickering neon signs in the window, and an entertainment store advertising video clips of the latest releases. Groups of residents with nowhere better to be, drifted across the open space like autumn leaves skittering across the dirt.

  “Come on, we’re running late.” Anna led the way to the glass lifts that ran up the inside of the habitat block. Looking upwards, Jack followed a lift cab up through the central space, which was open to the sky. Natural light came down here, but broken and second-hand. Streetlights were fixed to the levels of balconies that rose above them, all lit despite the early morning.

  When a cab arrived, a group of laughing children spilt out.

  “Sorry,” said one of the older boys as he charged into Jack’s shoulder on his exit. Jack spun, ready to challenge his behaviour but a stern look from Alan warned against it.

  The cab doors slid closed, and the lift ascended into the sky, swishing between floors and clacking as it passed each floor’s stop.

  “Why aren’t they in school?” Jack asked Anna.

  “No idea. Not my problem.”

  Alan answered, “My sister-in-law works as a teaching assistant in a block in District 4. I’ve heard it all and believe me, it’s not worth the grief a teacher would get in chasing up truant pupils.”

  “But they’re kids. What are they going to do?”

  “It’s not them they’re bothered about; it’s their parents.”

  When the lift got to their floor, Alan walked out first, the others following. They were high in the complex and fewer people were about. Jack made the mistake of looking over the top rail of the balcony that ran around in a square around the central atrium. The ground floor was two hundred metres down and his stomach lurched. He took a step back.

  “Keep up,” Anna snapped and Jack hurried to her side. There were sixteen flats around the central atrium: four along each edge. Alan led away from the central space, through one of the passages digging deeper into the housing complex. Lights hidden behind wire cages dotted the ceiling and helped push the shadows away.

  The corridor twisted around a couple of corners and Jack wondered what kind of idiot would have designed something so inhospitable. As they turned the next corner, Jack saw they’d come to a dead end. There was one flat here and Anna rang the doorbell and waited.

  A sharp buzzing made Jack jump.

  “Who is it?” A senior voice asked through the crackling filter of her security intercom.

  “It’s Anna. Remember, I told you we were coming to see you today?”

  The buzzing stopped, and the door opened revealing a grey-haired woman in her mid-seventies, wearing a light blue-coloured house coat and yellow dress beneath.

  “Don’t just stand there, come in, come in,” she said. Her cheeks were flushed as she tilted her head up to plant a kiss on Anna’s cheek. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  “It’s only ten o’clock, beautiful,” Anna replied, and followed the woman inside.

  Alan made sure the door was locked after the group had filed in.

  “So, how’ve you been keeping?” Anna asked as the group entered the front room.

  “Not so bad. The medicine finally seems to be helping. Getting a bit of decent sleep each night. Sit down, sit down. I don’t stand on ceremony here.”

  Jack looked for somewhere to sit. The front room had one sofa and a battered armchair. Two cats had sprawled out on the sofa leaving one seat in the middle to sit on. Alan grinned, then put the silver case on the floor and sat between the two cats, reaching out to scratch both their heads. They responded by pushing into his hands.

  “Always loved em.”

  Honey noticed, chuckling at the sight of the huge man playing with the cats. “Not even mine. Keep sneaking in, the crafty bastards.”

  Jack grinned and took a seat on the armchair.

  Anna gestured at Alan. “This is the watcher, Honey. It’s OK if he stays during the recall isn’t it?”

  “Of course. Just don’t get too comfortable. It won’t take long.” Honey smiled at Jack. “I know you, don’t I?”

  “We’ve not met. I’m Jack Winston.”

  Honey’s expression changed. “I know that name.”

  “I’m a remnant keeper too.”

  “No, that’s not why.”

  An awkward moment passed. Honey concentrated, lifted a finger to her lips to shush Anna’s interruption before it began. Then it came to her. “Oh, dear…I’m so sorry.” The smile, full of pity, stung.

  Jack replied with an awkward smile of his own.

  Anna interrupted, “He was working on the wife’s eye, Lavinia Wei. You’ve got her husband’s, Nikoli.”

  “Two remnants? Man and wife?” Honey asked, curious at the news.

  “Yes.”

  “Murder?”

  Jack nodded. “Yes. An intruder in—”

  “Don’t say another word. I’m not supposed to know anything about the case until I start on the recall.” Honey rubbed at her cheek, then brought her hands together in an effort to stop them shaking. She bent in close to Jack’s face and peered at his eyes. “You’re still wearing it.” She called to Anna who’d wandered over to the back wall staring out of a window. “I don’t understand. Why’s he still got the eye in? Why have you brought him here?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We’re not in any hurry.”

  Jack answered. “Someone killed my wife whilst I was reading Lavinia Wei’s remnant. They stole the memory box with one of her eyes, but
they didn’t realise I still had this first eye in my head.”

  “That’s why I know you. You’ve been all over the news feeds.” Honey looked at the three people in her house, realising for the first time that today would not be routine. “He shouldn’t be here. He should be at OsMiTech having that eye removed. He’s going to need protection.”

  “I know. We’re on our way there next,” Anna lied.

  “But why have you brought him here?”

  “We think you might be able to help each other.”

  “I don’t need any help. Help with what? I know what I’m doing. Oh, wait, you think we’ll share notes or something? That’s not how it works. I’m meant to do the recall on my own, then submit a report to OsMiTech. I’m not meant to be talking to strangers about it. That could hinder any court case couldn’t it?”

  Jack cleared his throat. “I don’t want to interfere. But there’s more than a court case at stake. Between us, we might find something that we can use to work out why my memory box was taken.”

  “You want access to the husband’s memories?” Honey shook her head. “I’m sorry that your wife’s dead, but there are rules. I’m not about to break them. Everything I find out will go in my report to OsMiTech. Leave it to them to work with the police and find out who killed your wife.”

  “Honey, listen,” Anna said, “it’s in everyone’s interests to sort this mess out. We’re going to OsMiTech next. Jack will file his report. But, aren’t you worried that whoever took Lavinia Wei’s eye may be interested in her husband’s?”

  “You think they’re trying to cover their tracks?” Honey asked.

  Jack shrugged. “It would make sense.”

  “Then even more reason to leave it to the police. You’re out of your depth. What does a remnant keeper know about catching murderers?”

  They were getting nowhere. Jack looked at Anna and then at Alan who’d remained quiet through the whole exchange.

  “What do you think, Alan?” Anna asked.

  “Honey’s right. He—” a finger pointed at Jack, “—has no business being here. We’re already stretching the rules to breaking point. I can stay if the remnant keeper wishes it, and her handler, again if she wishes it.”

  “Why did you let me come up with you all this way if you’re just going to chuck me out?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t enforce the rules. I just deliver the goods and wait if that’s what’s asked for.”

  “No,” Anna said with the same cold authority that Jack had seen before with the police back at his house. “Things have changed. Jack stays. You stay, and I stay.”

  “Hang about—” Honey exclaimed.

  “Either we all stay, or I’ll file a request to get you re-evaluated as a remnant keeper. You are looking very frail today.”

  “You bitch.”

  “Going to be a shock to your budget if you lose your income from OsMiTech.”

  “But, that money’s going to get my daughters new homes. Kid licences. You can’t threaten me like this.” She glared at Alan. “Listen to her, you’re a witness, tell her she can’t.”

  Alan held up his hands in submission.

  Honey glared at Jack. The friendly look had long gone and in its place, a woman who looked every one of her years.

  “Showing your true colours,” she said to Alan and put her hand out. “You’d better give me that.”

  Alan picked up the case and sat it on his lap. He placed his palm on the side of the case, and there was a faint click. From inside, Alan took out the wooden memory box. This one a light golden brown, with sharp carvings of dragons and fire decorating the surface. He handed it to Honey who took it quietly.

  Honey held the box with a level of disinterest that surprised Jack.

  Anna smiled half-heartedly. “We’ll wait here for you, Honey. Make sure you’re OK.”

  “I don’t suppose I can make you leave?”

  “No.”

  Honey sighed and headed out of the room, and then she hesitated like she was on the brink of saying something. Her eyes met Jack’s and for an instant he felt sure she wanted to tell him something.

  “Can you hear the voices yet, Mrs Brown?” Jack asked softly.

  “They’re always there if you listen hard enough. The problem is that most of you never listen to what’s being said.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No. You young-uns never do. I’m sorry.”

  And the conversation was over. She left the room leaving her three unwelcome guests staring at each other. Jack scratched an itch on his neck. “What was that all about?” he said to the others. “Is she that bothered by protocol?”

  Alan looked miserable. “You two are making her break the rules. We have protocols for a reason. They’re to protect all parties.”

  He sounded like he was remembering something he’d been told in a training seminar rather than something he believed in.

  “She’s tired,” Anna said. “She’s got Parkinson’s disease. The medicine I bring for her keeps the development of her condition to a slow crawl, but it’s very draining.”

  “Should she even be on OsMiTech’s books?” Jack said.

  “She passes the medicals, and it gives her something to look forward to.”

  Jesus. Something to look forward to. Watching the last moments of a stranger’s life wasn’t what most people looked forward to, but then looking around her rather sparse flat, and the habitat block on their way through, Jack believed there were worse things than watching a murder first hand.

  Something fell over upstairs. All eyes rose to the ceiling. Then there were footsteps, from both ends of the room.

  Jack got to his feet and hurried for the door, but Alan seized his arm, shaking his head in warning. His eyes were bright and alert.

  Anna put her finger to her lips. Her next words were spoken louder than was usual for her. “Maybe if we get time we can go for a walk along the seafront afterwards. Get some lunch?”

  She mouthed at Alan.

  Are you armed?

  The hairs on Jack’s neck bristled at the thought of needing weapons, and the image of the ATL man in his house flashed in front of his eyes.

  “Hell yeah, fish and chips would be sweet. Haven’t had them in years.” Alan carefully reached inside his jacket pocket. He gestured the others stay put and crept over to the door.

  Ignoring silent protests from Anna, Jack followed him to the hallway, treading as lightly as possible.

  Jack’s heart thudded so loudly others must have heard. The blood rushing through his ears made him dizzy and the urge to run out of the front door and shout for help was strong. The only thing stopping him was the depressing thought that the people living out there probably didn’t give a toss what happened in here.

  A flash and a crack of sound split the air. Something whipped past Jack, and Alan slumped to the floor, his foot slipping on the step as the impact knocked him off balance. Jack froze, fear gripping him. But then, instinct saved his life, and he ducked and spun back away from the stairs. A bullet impacted the picture three inches from where his head had been, shattering glass across the hall.

  “Get out,” he shouted, running into the lounge looking for Anna, ready to grab her and run for the front door. But, Anna wasn’t there.

  “Here,” she hissed from around the corner where a small kitchenette nestled by the dining room. Jack found her crouching behind a refrigerator, trying to call a number on her HALO with shaking fingers.

  “It’s too late for that. No one can get here in time. We need to go. Alan’s dead.”

  Anna’s face turned ashen. “No, he can’t be.”

  “We’re next unless we can get out of here.”

  Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Jack slammed against the kitchen door, holding it shut with his weight. The door was as cheap as the rest of the apartment and he didn’t give it much odds against stopping a bullet, but there was nothing else to use as a barricade.

  The door slammed a
gainst Jack and a man burst in. Jack fell back against the cooker and cracked his head. It was the man he’d fought in his own house. He raised the gun in his hand. With nothing else for it, Jack threw himself at the man’s legs, not caring if it meant a bullet.

  The impulsiveness took the intruder by surprise. Jack yelled and knocked him back into the dining area. He collided with the table and for a moment it seemed as if Jack had gained the upper hand.

  “Anna, go,” he yelled, pummelling his fists into the killer’s firm body. He was wearing some kind of body armour and every punch hurt. He wrestled around, but the moment of victory proved short. A right hook into Jack’s chin and pain fired up his face, shocking all the nerve endings into spasms of agony.

  With redoubled efforts, Jack landed punch after punch into his body, but he moved like oil, slipping away from the fists. Nothing of any worth struck home and after a second punch landed above Jack’s right eye, he felt blood trickle and his vision clouded. He fell. Feeling sick, Jack tried to crawl away. A foot landed into his side and he yelled in pain and fear. Hands grabbed his shoulders and hauled him to his feet before shoving him back into a wall. Jack slumped to the floor, and a picture fell off its hook and landed beside him, the glass cracking in its frame.

  Anna dove forward, fists raised against Jack’s attacker. A punch across her face and she fell beside Jack, looking desperate.

  Jack stared at her and tried to think of anything useful to put into his mind for her to read. A plan, something to collude on that would get them out of this—but there was nothing. All she would read if she was even calm enough to do so would be the anger and fear and pain that coursed through Jack’s brain.

  “Let her go, she’s not important. It’s me you’re after,” Jack said, trying to be heard over the sound of her yells. A flash of hope crossed his mind as he thought of Honey’s neighbours. Surely someone would have heard the commotion and called for help. But, it would take time to arrive—too long.

  Their attacker kicked Jack again. “Shut your mouth,” he said. The lack of anger or concern in his voice frightened Jack more than the gun that he now raised and pointed at his face.