When they had been making their plans they had reasoned that it could be watching them and they wouldn’t know, that it could strike anywhere and at anytime. He realised they were all waiting because they expected to be repelled by an instant confrontation. The anticipation was horrible; it felt like he was holding his breath constantly, although he could feel his breathing alongside the pounding of his heart.
Kelly was the first to act, dragging her cylinder to the lift in a prolonged eruption of noise as the cylinder sang out its hollow ring. Cat, Craig and Rachel followed with theirs while Kelly called both lifts to the ground floor, she motioned to Rachel and Cat and then at the cylinders. “You two okay with this bit?”
They both nodded and started following the plans they had made the previous night. Craig wordlessly followed Kelly as she headed to the caretaker’s office behind the lifts, and Jason followed him. They were confident that Alec had finished his daily duties an hour ago and would be in his flat for lunch. Kelly reached without looking and Jason knew to pass her the crowbar then stand further down the corridor as lookout into the lobby.
The door opened with a deep crunch as the crowbar did its work and chewed the fibres of the wood into ragged splinters. Kelly leaned heavily into the lever and the door gave up it’s resistance in a loud crack and swung abruptly inwards. The crowbar fell clanging to the floor but the noise that gave them away didn’t seem to faze Kelly and she just swiped it back up from the floor. Craig moved past her and gave the cluttered room a cursory inspection before searching out the keys they needed. Finding them clearly labelled and hanging on the wall he snatched them and called Jason back from his lookout duty to the lift maintenance cupboard behind the lifts.
Hastily unlocking the cupboard he found there was no light within. He grabbed the torch that stuck out from his jeans pocket and shone its puddle of light into the small room, scanning it over the grey concrete walls run with a black wash of damp and mould. He settled the torch light on the trip switches and fuses for the lifts. He listened to the lift doors shut on the ground floor and waited until Cat and Rachel appeared in the doorway of the cupboard.
“It’s done,” Rachel hushed, flushed from the exertion of moving the payload into the lift with Cat.
With that confirmation Kelly reached past Craig and tripped the switches, cutting the power to the lifts. Jason got his mobile phone out and made a show of checking that Cat’s, Craig’s and Kelly’s mobile number was stored safely, demonstrating he knew what he was doing.
“I’m all ready.” He stated confidently.
Cat ruffled his hair. “Hey, I know you know what you’re doing. You’ve come through for me before. I trust you. I’m sure my back’s safe with you watching it.”
Craig felt a panic rise in him. What did Cat mean? He looked to Kelly hoping she wouldn’t bite at the comment. He couldn’t face them all having a row now; he just wanted to get this done and over with one way or another.
Kelly spoke directly to Jason. “As soon as one of us calls just send the first lift down, don’t answer the phone I doubt we will have any time to answer or talk, then once you have sent that lift down count for thirty seconds and send the second lift down.”
“Proper seconds too, I want a Mississippi between each one. Cat does not want you sending that second lift down while she is still on that floor.” Craig added.
No one seemed to mind hearing Jason’s part of the plan again. Kelly handed Jason the long silver key to the cupboard. “Lock it behind you. Don’t open it to anyone but us,” she instructed firmly.
Craig felt a surge of protectiveness towards Jason and nudged him playfully. “I hope you’re not claustrophobic, kid.”
Jason flashed a tight smile, but there was no humour in his pale face. He looked scared. He stepped into the cupboard and shut the door behind him. Craig heard the raw bite of the key securing the door. Brave kid.
Craig exchanged glances with everyone. This was the point of no return.
“Guess this is it.” Cat spoke Craig’s own thoughts aloud.
Craig knelt down and retrieved the red plastic flare gun from a hold-all Rachel had sorted out for them. He passed it to Cat and then removed the nail gun for himself. He slung the empty bag in front of the broken door of the caretaker’s room.
Craig handled the heavy awkward tool and stared at it strangely. He imagined it working, punching nails into flesh. Could he do that? He had never hurt anything in his life and today he had set out to kill something. “I can’t believe that we’re doing this.” The others nodded in agreement.
“Give me a five minute head start,” Kelly instructed. She headed to the restricted fire door they had decided the stalker had been using, Craig followed her through to the staircase. She stopped and gave him a quizzical look. “You’re meant to be with the others – we talked about this, we need more of us in the basement if that’s where ‘it’ is…”
Craig cut her off. “I’m scared.”
She looked caught, unsure how to answer. “Yeah, I know. I feel the same,” she admitted grimly. “Course, this could end up with a no-show.”
“Yeah – this could end up with us just looking stupid.”
“On top of facing charges of breaking an entry, trespass and a rather large act of arson.”
“So are we hoping there is a monster down there?”
“Would give us a bit of justification…” Nerves distorted her brief laugh.
“Cat has pulled herself together, but you still don’t seem yourself. Is it just the fear?”
“Yes, ‘just’ the fear of dying.” She teased before taking his question seriously. “Yeah, it’s all a bit daunting.”
He knew it wasn’t just fear. “Yeah, same here. I guess I just like all my parts where they are!” He watched Kelly nod in agreement before cutting in with his real reason for intercepting her, his heart in his throat. “I was kind of hoping that if we get out of here… You might fancy going out, or having another one of them microwave meals?”
Kelly flushed and looked to be struggling to restrain a broad smile. “I have a lot of baggage – it might be easier to not come back from whatever’s in the basement.”
“I don’t think so.”
“But, Cat…”
Craig arched his eyebrows. “Cat, what?!”
“Nothing. It sounds great – I would love to.” She stumbled and refocused. “You better get yourself out of there in one piece. I like your parts the way they are too.” She looked embarrassed and she turned away sharply and jogged up the stairs.
Cute and cheesy, but he liked her even more for it. He just hoped they wouldn’t all be dead within the next ten minutes.
Craig left the stairwell and nodded to the others and stood before the fire alarm point. He checked his watch and waited. None of them spoke in that time. He guessed there was nothing to say. Five-minutes seemed like five hours but they had passed. He wiped a sweaty palm on the seat of his jeans and prepared a palm strike to the glass of the small red alarm.
“Can I?”
Rachel suddenly speaking made him jump.
“The idea of unleashing chaos is quite appealing.”
Craig fixed her with a grin and stepped to one side. “Knock yourself out.”
She hit the box and the shrill bells rang out.
Rachel clamped a hand over the ear that faced the bell. “It’s all very exciting.”
According to Kelly’s estimation they would have fifteen minutes before the emergency services arrived through the throng of Camden’s market crowds and the boroughs lunch-time traffic. She had suggested lunch-time in the theory that most of the tower’s resident’s would be at work and out of danger, and the roads would be at their busiest.
The three of them took their cue and hurried through the door of the disused fire exit, locking it behind them so the undertaker stalker or anyone else couldn’t block their exit. With a secure grip on the nail gun Craig led the descent.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs
he gingerly pushed the heavy fire door open and stepped through into the basement. Cat and Rachel followed him through and stood each side of him. The fire door drifted shut and stifled much of the ear-aching din of the fire-bells. Cat and Rachel shrugged their back-packs off and began carefully removing their bottles of petrol while Craig stood over them and cautiously scanned their surroundings for any movement.
As far as he could tell they were alone. He began to gather up material from around the basement that would be flammable and with Cat and Rachel he piled it up in the corners and in front of the second set of lift doors according to their plan. They doused them with one of the bottles of petrol. The three of them took a pile each and stood poised with their matches. Monster or no monster they were creating their own danger by starting a fire. What kind of prison sentence did you get for arson these days? Craig stared at both women in turn and he could see the uncomfortable anxiety and indecision that gripped him etched on their faces. “Fuck it.” He struck his match and tossed it. With a whoomph his pile was a column of writhing flames as tall as he was.
“Fuck it.” Cat did the same.
“Yes, fuck it indeed.” Rachel stated and ignited her pile.
Craig and Cat set fire to the remaining two piles and returned to Rachel’s side. The gloom was chased away by a shifting orange glow that sent the shadows darting from place to place, and the cool basement air was consumed by a violent heat. Craig could already feel a film of slick sweat over his entire body.
The ceiling was a black shifting mass of smoke that rolled to the edges of the room and gradually lowered itself upon them. They hadn’t factored that into their plan. Craig hunkered down so as not breath any of it in and he rushed back to the fire door and propped it open. After a few minutes the smoke lifted and flowed steadily through the door like a fast flowing black river. He returned to Cat and Rachel and stood with them, poised with their weapons waiting for the monster.
Chapter Forty Two
Jason tried to focus on his computer game Halo as he guided his character through the corridors of an alien building. He could hear the muffled voices beyond his door. The tone was heated and it boiled the blood in his veins. He was worried about his mum and angry at his dad, but he channelled it all into his fingers on the X-box controller and the Masterchief character on the screen loosed a barrage of bright blue weapon-fire at the horde of creatures he charged amongst. The aliens responded with a mixture of terrified yelps and defiant ‘Wart, wart, wart’ laughs. The controllers rumble pack vibrated as enemy fire splashed against his character and coincided with two heavy knocks rapping sharply on his bedroom door. The knocks rattled him more than the controller.
His concentration shattered and his sharp aim faltered and he took several avoidable hits.Jason heard his name called through the door. He paused the game and tossed the chunky controller roughly to the floor. He couldn’t ignore his father’s voice any longer. His hate for his dad burned, but the guilt chilled him. It was his dad. What about mum? After what dad had done to mum how could he accept dad?
“Jason?” the voice asked gently. “Jason – I know you are in there…” It persisted with another two knocks.
Jason’s need for his dad was in conflict with his fierce loyalty to his mum.
“Me and mum have chatted. I – I guess you heard that,” it said apologetically. The voice attempted being whimsical but failed and changed tact. “I didn’t come here to argue – that’s not what I wanted.”
There was an aching honesty to the words and Jason wanted to forgive him. The guilt was like a weight on his back.
“I just want to talk to you,” the voice faltered. “Please…”
Let me in…
The tug of war pull on his feelings was painful. Tears stung at his eyes.
“Are you scared of me?”
Standing with the door between him and his dad, Jason strangely remembered the story of the big bad wolf calling on the three pigs; he frowned at the random memory and shrugged it off. Jason had been scared – scared for his mum that night. He knew it was the drink that had made him violent, but the frustration and anger had been brewing between his parents for months. There was no excuse for what his dad did but Jason accepted that things like that happened. He had seen families on TV move on from moments like that. There was no fear of his dad, pity maybe – as his dad had lost everything of value because he didn’t keep control of his emotions that one time. The only fear Jason harboured was for his mum being hurt by letting his dad be part of his life again. Jason wanted his mum to take comfort in knowing that although dad had let her down, he wouldn’t, he wasn’t his dad.
“Don’t be scared of me. I know I did a bad thing that night, there’s no excuse for that. I just want to see you… Talk to you for a few minutes.” Let me in…
Jason’s instinct told him his dad wanted to be a part of his life – more than that he wanted forgiveness. That wasn’t for Jason to give; that was for his mum to decide and deal, she was the only fit judge. However, she had already punished his dad, and where did that leave Jason? He would never complain about his mum’s decision, but he had lost his dad.
“Talk then,” Jason said bitterly.
“Not through the door, Jason,” the voice reasoned.
“I know you only want to apologise.” Jason turned to the door, there was quiet. “Words are easy dad.”
“I don’t just want to apologise. I missed you. I want to see you. Regularly.” Let me in…
Jason’s blood rushed with excitement but drained away into the pit of guilt in his gut.
“I’ve spoken to your mum and she doesn’t want you to be without a dad. Me and your mum are going to stay friends so I can come and see you, go out and stuff – if you want that? Open the door.”
His mum’s permission made things easier. He did want to see his dad. But would she still be disappointed in him somehow?
“You do want that don’t you? Open the door.” Little piggy…
Yes.
He did want that. Jason slipped the long silver key from his pocket. Suddenly there was a strange feeling of unreality, like Déjà vu, a sudden awareness that something was out of place. He didn’t have a lock on his bedroom door. He stared at the key then at the dark key hole. Strange. Then the moment passed and he accepted it. His door was locked and to get to his dad he had to unlock it. What was so problematic about that? Yet he couldn’t shake the sickness that fluttered in his stomach.
“Open the door.” Little piggy! Or I will huff and I’ll puff…
Jason slipped the head of the key into the hole, the gritty teeth biting sharply into the barrels combination. Something was wrong. He dismissed it roughly. It was dad. Dad had only been frightening that one time. There was nothing to fear.
He turned the key in the lock.
The door was forced inwards, twisting Jason’s hand back at an awkward angle and pushing him to the back of the cramped room. He clutched at his aching wrist, suddenly aware he was no longer in his room but back in the lifts electrical cupboard. His dad wasn’t in the doorway, it was another man, Jason recognised the man with the short solid build as Alec the caretaker. Jason’s responsibility pressed in on him. He had opened the door!
Alec smiled disarmingly from his familiar round face, but Jason knew this was bad, knew Sparky – the entity could control people, knew Alec couldn’t be trusted. Alec smiled, but his voice was hard, like the tone of a teacher telling him off. “You shouldn’t be in here. It’s trespassing.” The smile went. The face was blank. Eyes cold. “You better run along.” Little piggy, or I’ll eat you all up…
Did Alec have a set of ragged wolf teeth in his mouth? Jason’s eyes switched to the crowbar on the shelf between them. If he made a grab for it Alec would be able to reach him. He needed to pee. Leaving his feet planted to the ground, he lunged forward, snatched at the tool and hauled himself back on his heels.
His grip was clumsy, made worse by the pain in his wrist from where the door had bee
n forced open. His awkward snatch at the weapon swept the vital mobile phone from the shelf. It clattered onto the concrete, and the phones plastic case splintered in all directions. The phone was essential. Without the phone the others couldn’t give him the signal. Without the signal he didn’t know when to send the lifts down. His fingers winced with the phones impact and caused the crowbar to slip out of his grip. Jason’s hand frantically clapped the air trying to catch the weighty tool. He caught it and fumbled to secure his grip.
Alec lunged strong hands out to restrain him.
Although Jason’s grip of the tool was awkward he swung it upward wildly between him and Alec in an attempt to ward him off. Alec stepped away, startled by Jason proving that he was willing to fight.
With the extra space and time his swing had afforded him Jason took a better grip of the crowbar, blood rushed in his ears and his heart pounded uncomfortably in his throat. Poised to strike and inflict an injury, Jason was suddenly detached from himself. A misplaced blow from the crowbar could kill. This was Alec! Someone his mum always had a hello for. A sense of doing wrong slithered in his gut. Jason knew he shouldn’t be in the lift maintenance cupboard and it was Alec’s job to look after the building. To stop vandals. That’s what Jason was in this moment, a vandal. Alec had the right to be there and to evict anyone that trespassed or damaged things, he was the caretaker – the adult. The others in the basement were relying on him, he had already failed by opening the door he wasn’t going to fail by losing control of the lifts.
Harvest Page 39