This is the end. He’s done with me now.
I twisted and reached for the knife, knocking it against his side. The blade nicked against his arm and he dropped it in surprise. Then he dropped me. Then he fell back.
“Help me,” he said simply, the arrogance gone.
With nothing holding me, I scrambled for the kitchen but as I turned to slam the door, I saw his pathetic face. Tears ran down his cheeks. The bastard was crying. Kneeling on the floor, looking around him like he was lost, and he was crying.
“What’s happening? I was at home. My lodger…” He trailed off, and I hesitated. My emotions screamed at me to get moving and to get help. But, who was I running from? The man on the floor, his whole attitude had changed. It was like a different person. The way he moved, the confidence gone, a timid man checking out the house like a rat sizing up its maze for the first time.
“Get out!” I shouted. “I’m calling the police.”
“No, please don’t. They won’t like that.”
“Who? Your lodger?”
“No. I get a call when something needs doing. But, I forget things. I’m being watched.”
A finger of fear poked me in the heart and I spun around, sure then that there was another person in the house, but the kitchen was empty. We were alone. He was sobbing now. Shoulders lifting up and dropping like cresting waves.
I held my HALO before me and swiped a finger. The police would have to come and they’d need a doctor. The man was delusional. But, that was a mistake. He stopped sobbing and looked up. Only, it wasn’t the sobbing man who looked up, but the first, the mean man with the smile that might slice like razor wire. He came for me.
Oh my God, he’s coming for me. Oh my God… Oh my…
9:32 PM
It was far easier getting into Keeley’s offices than he expected it would be. Fuse Media was housed in one of the larger commercial centres in the middle of town, a well-secured gated site with many other impressive looking buildings. He used her security pass to get past the main pedestrian access to the site—no physical guards to manually confirm identity at this late hour; he just scanned the card and walked through the turnstile.
Jack had chosen the time of his expedition carefully. Too early, and there would be a much larger physical presence of security, too late and he’d stand out on the empty walkways, giving the security drones an obvious target to focus on. It was a little after seven in the evening, a time when most office workers had already headed home. Fuse Media was no different. Keeley had explained all about the Fuse algorithms to him. How they could run their own stories outside office hours. Some staff would be working from home to tame the system or be able to send drones should there be any breaking news stories. Jack felt relatively safe.
He pulled the collar up on his jacket and tugged his hat down over his tattoo. The wind blew a dismal chill along the pavements, hitting walls and kicking up litter like a petulant child. A whistling noise seemed to follow Jack as he moved through the business centre, making him glance behind more often than was good for his nerves.
He stepped up to the main entrance of the Fuse Media building, peering through the glass doorways, trying to spot if anyone was manning the main reception desk. Damn, a guard was hunched forward in his seat behind the desk. It would be impossible to get past the man without being noticed. He considered turning back.
It’s too late to turn back.
Jack pushed open the door to the lobby.
The man didn’t look up from his desk and Jack eyed the turnstile to the back lifts and wondered if he’d be able to use Keeley’s pass without being noticed.
Something wasn’t right; the guard looked asleep. Jack stood calmly and let his mind relax. He wasn’t picking up anything from the guard at all. No telepath would. Urgently, forgetting his original plan, Jack ran to the desk, hoping he’d made a mistake and the guard would look up in response to the approach—but the figure stayed still.
“Are you OK?” he asked then tapped the man on his shoulder, and that was when Jack noticed the blood that had spilt out all over the security desk. He moved his fingers to the side of the neck, checking for a pulse, but instead they found the wound. A slit across the side of the neck. It must have missed the jugular or the spray would have spread across the reception area.
Leech was already here.
Time slowed. The edges of his ears tingled as the fine hairs there quivered. He took a step back, then spun around checking the distant corners of the reception area. Pillars made good hiding places. Several doors led off from here—toilets, a private office space for the dead guard, a cleaning cupboard. Jack dropped to the floor, his back to the reception desk. Heavy hands of panic pressed down on his ribcage and he took a deep breath, then another.
Leech wanted what Keeley had been working on and he was prepared to kill to protect the information. Did that mean killing anyone who Keeley might have told? How many people worked at Fuse Media were now at risk? Jack couldn’t protect them all. His track record of being able to protect precisely zero people since Leech had started his mission cut him up. If only he could block his own conscience as easily as he could block his thoughts from other telepaths.
He needed help. Burnfield’s HALO went straight to voicemail and the seed of hope was crushed.
“It’s Jack Winston,” he said quietly but quickly. “I’m at Fuse Media. Leech is already here trying to destroy evidence. I need backup, but I can’t let him do this. I’m going after him. Please, hurry.”
There, it was done. Burnfield wouldn’t leave his messages unchecked for long. He’d be here soon. Too soon might be a problem, though. If Jack could finish this with Leech tonight, he was prepared to. He couldn’t take another night of waking and staring at an empty pillow beside him.
Jack stood slowly, ears hunting stray noise. On this level, the only thing to hear was the low thrumming of the air conditioning units. Beyond the turnstiles, nothing. The action was upstairs where the company servers connected to the office block’s main trunk. If Jack were Leech that’s where he’d start. He hurried through the turnstile, the security pass letting him through. His trainers dropped lightly on the tiled floor and he glanced at the lifts as he passed, a niggling fear remained that they’d open as soon as he approached. But, he got to the stairwell uneventfully. Lights came on in the stairwell as they sensed his presence, and he listened for any sign of his prey. Nothing.
Keeley’s office was on the third floor, and it was an obvious target for Leech. The place was empty. Still on guard, he walked across the open plan area towards her office. It had been months since he’d last been in here, and it was exactly as he remembered. Jack ran his fingers over her desk before sinking into Keeley’s chair. Absently, he turned his attention to the desk drawers. Locked. He sat back in the chair and tipped his head so he was staring straight up at the ceiling. The closer he got to understanding what had happened, the further away he seemed to drift. There was no guarantee that any of this was connected—and yet, his gut told him differently.
That was the worst thing, that nagging question that until now he’d pushed aside. What had she been working on that was so important it had gotten her killed? And why had she felt so inclined to keep this project from him? But, she hadn’t had she? That morning when he’d received the memory box, she’d called out of the blue and told him she was coming home. It wasn’t about the fight, the stupid pregnancy licence. This was about something she’d found out on the morning she’d died.
He grabbed at the drawer handle and yanked.
Something fell on the carpet under the desk. Jack stood and pushed the chair away. A key caught the light. Jack dropped to his knees and grabbed it, almost afraid it would make a run for it. A tiny blob of sticky gum adhered to the thumb grip and Jack found the rest stuck on the underside of the desk. He should have checked. Keeley was all for low-tech solutions.
The key slipped in the lock effortlessly, and Jack rummaged around the contents. An old noteb
ook she’d used when she couldn’t bear technology any longer. He pocketed it without checking the contents. Some aspirin and tissues; a spare lipstick and mismatched earrings; perfume—the same brand that had infused her cardigan; a couple of pencils; some coins.
And that was all.
Jack frowned. He’d been hoping for more, but it wasn’t going to be.
Her computer monitor stared at him invitingly. There was no way he would get past the biometrics, and he was sure any attempt to turn it on without Keeley present would alert security. Ella would have been able to get into it. That’s what Leech had wanted her for.
He glanced at the doorway. The murderer was here somewhere, but whatever he was doing was keeping him occupied. Jack’s focus was on getting the information before Leech wiped it—it might give him the leverage he needed.
He checked his HALO. It had been five minutes since he’d called Burnfield and no answer yet. He should just call the main police switchboard. The longer he left it, the worse this would look for him. He pressed the ring and was just about to ask for the police when a shadow fell across the desk. A man’s shadow, blocking out the light from the hallway.
Leech.
And the gun he held was aimed directly at Jack’s face.
9:48 PM
“I know what you’re thinking,” Leech said, “and you’re wrong. I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve a job to do and when it’s over, I’ll leave. Now sit down and shut up.” The gun waved at the guest chair. Jack complied, then Leech walked around the desk, and set down the gun, well away from Jack. From a pocket, he retrieved a device and set it next to Keeley’s computer. His fingers tapped a series of instructions and the computer screen lit up.
“You didn’t need to kill Ella. She had nothing to do with this.”
“She was Keeley’s boss.” Leech frowned.
Jack remembered the personality change that had come over Leech at Ella’s apartment. He knew what had triggered it, but he needed Leech to get close. “Keeley told me about the project. She had all the information she needed and was shaping it up to release. I’ve got my own copy in case anything happened to her.”
“Don’t jerk me around,” Leech spat. He tapped away at a virtual keyboard that appeared on Keeley’s desk, checking a screen on his device, then tapping again. Jack guessed he was trying to break the biometrics with his device.
“You won’t break the security. You’d need Keeley to get in that way. But, you don’t need to, I’ve got what you want right here.” Carefully, Jack pulled out the notebook he’d found in Keeley’s drawer and held it before him.
“What’s that?”
“Her notes. She liked to keep her own backup.”
Leech got up from his chair, picked up his gun, and stepped over to Jack. “Give it here.”
“No.”
He reached for it, but Jack tossed it into the corridor out of reach, where it bounced off the wall and landed, pages splayed out. Leech swung his fist in a wide arc against Jack’s cheek, and Jack crashed to his right, reaching out to the desk for support as he fell. As Leech strode out into the corridor to retrieve his false prize, Jack thumbed the lid off his own treasure that he’d managed to grab from the desk surface.
“What is this crap?” Leech said as he stormed back into the room with Keeley’s book in one hand. Jack moaned softly but stayed where he’d landed. He wanted Leech to come closer.
Realising that he wasn’t about to get to his feet, Leech landed a foot into Jack’s side. “Get up.”
Jack didn’t move.
“I said, get up!” Leech bent, grabbed Jack’s shoulder and tugged.
Jack let himself be turned, and as he rolled he squirted a heavy mist of perfume into Leech’s eyes. A scream of rage and Leech blindly kicked out, but Jack was already standing and behind his attacker. With a giant shove, he pushed the man forwards onto Keeley’s desk. Equipment crashed to the floor as Leech struggled to regain his balance.
Jack should have run, but he hesitated, his eye on the gun. Big mistake. Leech was strong and twisted himself upright; swiping out with his leg, a boot struck Jack’s knee, and he stumbled.
Strong arms gripped his shoulders and drove him against the wall. Jack gasped, but as he tried to gulp down more air, Leech’s hands found his neck and they began to squeeze.
As their skin touched, a connection formed. Confusion and pain and rage.
He grasped the hands, pulling them away from his throat. He wasn’t strong enough. He was going to die. Fighting against the survival instinct, Jack gave up on Leech’s hands and fingers outstretched, he aimed for his attacker’s eyes.
Leech wailed and fell back, letting go. Jack gulped down delicious air.
But something had changed. The man wasn’t resisting anymore. Jack paused, worried that he’d killed him, but Leech slowly sat upright, hands protecting his damaged eyes, trying to blink and focus on Jack. “You’ve got to help me,” he cried.
“What are you talking about?” Jack gasped, his throat still paper delicate.
“I…what am I…” he shut up and ran back to the doorway, sticking his head out into the corridor, looking both ways. “I don’t have much time. You’ve interrupted the control.”
Jack’s stomach tightened. He tensed, ready to fight his way past Leech if he had to.
“What are you talking about?”
Leech came back to the desk and picked up his gun. He grabbed it as if noticing it for the first time and pointed it once again at Jack. “You’re the man from the ATL meeting who took on Frazier Growden. What am I doing here?”
“I’m Jack Winston,” he said cautiously. “You’re the bastard who killed my wife.” Jack raised his hand in a pacifying gesture. “You remember that right?”
Leech shook his head. “No. Snatches of…stuff. I don’t know. I was meeting someone for a drink. Then it’s all gone…” he gestured extravagantly with his hand, twirling it around the side of his head exasperatedly. “I’m going now. Don’t follow me.”
But before he could leave, a change came over him again, like a switch had been flicked. The worrying stranger was gone, replaced by the confident Leech. He shook his head as if shaking cobwebs loose.
“Sorry about that. Where were we?” With the hand holding the gun still pointing at Jack, his other picked up the pocket computer and frowned. “She’s cleared the decks. There’s nothing in here. I’m going to try accessing the base lines directly. You first.”
Leech indicated they should walk back along the corridor and past the lifts.
“We’re going up to the roof,” Leech said.
Jack led the way into the stairwell and started up the staircase. At the top, he pushed open the security door that opened out onto the roof and stepped outside. It had begun to drizzle and sporadic gusts of wind whipped across the rooftop. A waist-high railing ran around the perimeter of the building and four industrial air conditioning units had been sited at each of the corners of the roof. Right in the centre was a mast; a transmitter that presumably connected Fuse Media to the rest of the networks.
Jack checked his HALO for the time and tapped his ring nervously.
The air was cool and even in his jacket, Jack felt exposed. “Whatever you take from here doesn’t matter. I’ve got copies of everything Keeley was working on at home. Keeley made sure of it.”
Leech dug the weapon into Jack’s back. They stepped towards the transmitter tower, the gravel on the roof crunching underfoot. Leech gestured to the floor. “Sit down on your hands please.”
Jack shrugged and carefully sat, the wet surface uncomfortable.
Leech stepped away and regarded the access panels underneath the transmitter. Jack knew little about the technology behind these things and wondered how Leech had learnt. What did he do for a living when he wasn’t killing people?
Leech took out his pocket computer and placed it against an access hatch. The device snapped magnetically to the side and stayed there. A few more taps on the device and a mess
of tendrils spun out, quickly forming an artificial web that crawled across the hatch. In seconds, it had found the edges of the metal and the fibres worked their way through the gap.
Leech inspected the device, tapped a few buttons, then grinned. “Excellent. I’ve got access.” A few more taps. “Now, it just needs to search out your wife’s files and delete them.”
“Why am I still alive? I take it you plan to kill me.”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“You’ve killed seven people.”
“They got in the way.” His eyes were cold and mean.
The device bleeped urgently, and he returned his attention to it. “Excellent. Found it. Found it and removed it.” He pulled the device away, and the fibres disintegrated into a fine dust that caught on the wind and blew out across the night. “A copy for protection.” He pocketed the device.
“Back in the office, you said someone was controlling you.”
Leech hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re in trouble. I felt your confusion. Someone’s doing this to you.” Jack needed to buy more time. There was no reason for Leech to keep him alive now. As soon as Leech realised that, he knew he’d be taken care of.
“There’s no confusion.”
“I’ve seen you change. When you’re hurt. You’re not yourself all the time. Who are you?”
“I’ve told you enough about me.”
“I know you want to get caught.”
Leech laughed. The drizzle had soaked his fine hair. “You’re delusional.”
“You left Ella’s eye for me to find.”
Leech frowned, then he looked away. “It’s a great view up here isn’t it?”
Beyond the business park, the peaks of the crescent shaped OsMiTech building could be seen. Lights from distant security drones crossed the sky, but none, unfortunately, seemed interested in what was happening here.
The Remnant Keeper (Tombs Rising Book 1) Page 20