Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller)

by Neal Martin

  "Black Mountain is a big place. Kaitlin could be anywhere."

  Rankin got up and stood beside her, put a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't help but flinch at his touch, although he didn't seem to mind. "Harry is one of the most capable men I've ever met. He'll find her."

  "I hope you're right."

  "Hey guys," Donna said, getting their attention. "I've been looking over different maps of the area that Kaitlin is in. I think I may have narrowed down a few places. Black Mountain is a big place, but it's mostly uninhabited. There are only so many dwellings inside the area we triangulated."

  "That's good, Donna," Rankin said. "You need to get on the phone to Harry and let him know so he can check them out."

  Donna went to lift her mobile phone off her desk, and then froze as her eyes went to the door. A second later, Gemma and Rankin looked to the door as well.

  Standing there was a man with a gun in his hand. The man was just over six feet tall, wearing black army fatigues and a black jacket. His hair was dark and Gemma saw a deep scar running down one side of his face. The man stood in the doorway, saying nothing, but holding the gun out in front of him.

  Rankin moved towards his desk but the man stopped him. "I wouldn't," the stranger said. "I'll put a hole in your head before you get anywhere near your desk drawer."

  Raising his hands slightly, Rankin said, "Okay. Who are you?"

  The man with the gun walked into the office and closed the door behind him. He was well built, and moved with confidence, exactly like someone else she knew. She frowned as she looked at his face, and then her jaw dropped open. Her coffee cup slipped from her hand and smashed to the floor.

  "I'm the man who has that woman's daughter," the gunman said, waving the gun in Gemma's direction. "Did you get the present I sent you?"

  Gemma's eyes were wide with shock. She wanted to call the man an evil bastard but she couldn't speak. The more she looked at his face, the more certain she became of who he really was.

  "What are you doing here?" Rankin asked him.

  The gunman looked around the room. "Where's Harry?"

  "He's not here," Donna said.

  The man with the gun frowned and took a device out of his pocket, held it up. "According to the tracker on the phone I gave him, he's here."

  "That phone?" Donna said, pointing to the mobile phone that still sat on her desk.

  The gunman's jaw clenched and he walked over to within two feet of Gemma, pointed the gun at her face. "Where did he go?"

  Gemma stared at the man, at his dark eyes. The shape of his face.

  Impossible. It can't be.

  The gunman stared back, then smiled. "You recognise me. Don't you?"

  Gemma nodded slowly. "Yes."

  He kept the gun pointed at her. "Who am I?"

  "You're…" She could hardly say it. "You're Declan Edger. Harry's brother."

  "What?" Rankin breathed beside her.

  The gunman smiled.

  Black lit a cigarette as he stood outside in the station car park, then he took out his mobile phone and dialled the number he had just gotten for Harry Edger.

  Edger answered after the fifth ring. "Who is this?" he asked. It sounded to Black like Edger was driving and the signal wasn't great either.

  "It's DI Black. I need to talk to you, Mr Edger."

  Edger sighed down the phone. "We have nothing to talk about."

  Black blew out a plume of smoke that the wind immediately carried away. "I think we do, Edger. It's about your brother."

  Silence for a moment, then Edger said, "What about him?"

  "Was your brother lifted for rioting when he was fourteen?"

  "Yes. So?"

  "And was he fingerprinted?"

  "Yes. Where are you going with this Black? I don't have the time."

  "Don't worry, Edger. You'll want to hear this." Black took another drag from his cigarette before tossing the butt. "The car that was used in your daughter's abduction was brought in this morning. I had forensics check it over."

  "And what?"

  "Forensics found a set of fingerprints. Belonging to your brother, Edger. Now how do you explain that when your brother is supposed to be dead?"

  There was no response from Edger.

  "Edger? Are you hearing me? Your brother is still alive, and he kidnapped your daughter."

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Black Mountain isn't exactly a mountain. It's more of a massive hill that overlooks most of West Belfast. Although the Black Mountain is mostly rocky scrub-land, it still has a network of roads running through it, many of which are hardly in use anymore, leading as they do to deserted farms and other dwellings long since abandoned. The mountain also contains a deeply excavated quarry and a police barracks that has been there for years, though Edger wasn't sure if it was still used these days as he spotted it from a distance while he drove. He was trying to stick to the twenty mile radius in which Donna had located the kidnapper's phone, but often he had to go outside that area just to get to a different part of it because of the way the roads were laid out. As he drove, he kept an eye out for any abandoned buildings or farms that might be a likely hideout for the kidnapper. It was unlikely the kidnapper had set up in a place that people were already living in, so Edger dismissed any houses or farms that were obviously occupied by people.

  His search hadn't long started when he got the phone call from the cop, Detective Black. When Black had delivered his message, Edger had to pull over to the side of the road. He turned the engine off and sat there in shock for at least five minutes, trying to come to terms with what Black had told him.

  Declan, Edger's brother, was alive, according to Black. Not only that, but Declan was also responsible for kidnapping Kaitlin.

  Edger sat shaking his head, unable to comprehend this revelation. At first he thought Black was bullshitting him, trying to rattle somehow, for he knew Black felt aggrieved when he was released from police custody. But Edger knew enough about Black to know that he was a straight talker, like himself. He didn't seem the type to play games, especially about something like this. And he had been right about Declan getting arrested years ago for rioting, a stupid mistake at the time that he regretted immediately afterwards. Declan had been fingerprinted back then, so it was conceivable that the prints in the stolen car matched his.

  But why? Where had Declan been all these years, and why did he feel the need to kidnap Kaitlin? To punish his younger brother?

  You know why.

  The voice came from nowhere and hit Edger like a hammer.

  "No," he said, shaking his head.

  Yes. Admit the truth.

  His phone rang in his jacket pocket. Almost grateful for the distraction, he took the phone out of his pocket and saw that it was Gemma phoning off her mobile. "Hello?" he said in a quiet voice.

  "Harry," Gemma said, sounding rattled herself, so much so she could hardly speak.

  "Gemma, what is it?"

  "He was here."

  "Who?"

  As if you need to ask.

  "The man who took Kaitlin."

  Jesus.

  "Are you still with John at the office? Are you alright? What happened?"

  "He came in here with a gun asking where you were." She sounded like she was doing her best to hold back tears.

  Edger swallowed. "Did he hurt anyone?"

  "No," she said. "But Harry, it's Declan. It's your brother. The one you told me was dead."

  He closed his eyes for a second. It really was Declan then.

  "Did you hear me, Harry? Your brother stole Kaitlin!"

  "I know. That cop called me five minutes ago. They matched the prints found in the car he used when he took Kaitlin."

  "How is this possible, Harry?" she demanded. "Tell me. Tell me what he wants. You must know."

  "I don't know anything, Gemma. I swear, I'm as shocked as you are."

  "He isn't doing this for nothing." There was anger in her voice n
ow. "You did something to make him do this."

  He closed his eyes again, said nothing.

  "What did you do, Harry?"

  "Nothing, Gemma. I did nothing."

  Liar.

  "Harry?" It was Rankin.

  "John. Was it him? Was it Declan?"

  "He says it was. Gemma seems convinced anyway."

  Edger let out a long breath. "I have to find where he's keeping Kaitlin."

  "Listen, Harry. He's on his way back to wherever he has Kaitlin. You need to find the place before he moves her."

  "Did he say anything?"

  "Not much. Just that he needs to talk to you. Face to face, he says."

  Edger stared out the window at the flat fields beyond. Dark clouds were beginning to gather in the sky, throwing moving shadows across the course grass in the fields.

  "You alright, Harry?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Listen, Donna has managed to narrow down some possible locations. Keep this line open. She's going to track you through the GPS on your phone so she can provide directions."

  Edger nodded. "Okay."

  "Harry? It's Donna. I have your location. Stay on the road you're on for another mile or so, then look for a dirt road to your right that leads to a deserted farm. Harry? You there, Harry?"

  "I'm here, Donna," Edger said, snapping out of the reverie he was in.

  He restarted the engine and began driving again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  As soon as Kaitlin McGuire opened her eyes she immediately began to cough. Her mouth and throat were covered in dry dust. As she coughed, she sat up and tried to steady herself with her good hand, but as she did she felt a sharp stabbing pain, and she squealed. When she looked at her hand, she saw a piece of wood with a rusty nail in it, sticking into her flesh. Crying, she squeamishly took hold of the small piece of wood—part of the floorboards from the attic room above her—and pulled on it, sliding the nail out of her hand. The puncture wound the nail left behind in the palm of her hand wasn't deep, but it stung like hell, and there was a lot of blood pouring out of it. As she sat amongst the rubble of broken floorboards and pieces of plaster ceiling, she cradled her punctured hand in her other hand, and that's when she realised for the second time that her little finger was missing from her other hand. Kaitlin groaned, then winced as the horrible throbbing pain seemed to come back suddenly into her injured left hand. Then she winced harder at the pain in her head. She must have hit it off the floor when she landed. She used her four fingered left hand to check her head for blood, but she felt no wetness anywhere. Just a large lump near the top of her skull.

  Kaitlin sat and looked around her as she comprehended what had happened. She had crashed through the floor of the attic room, then through the ceiling below into the room she was now in. It appeared to be a bedroom, going by the dirty looking bed in one corner and large double wardrobe next to it. She thanked her lucky stars that she didn't land on the metal bed frame.

  Then a thought struck her.

  The kidnapper. Where is he? Why hadn't he come to see what all the noise was about?

  She sat for a moment, listening. The only sounds were the ones the wind outside was making as it blew through the house, though that didn't mean the kidnapper wasn't in the house as well.

  But he must have heard all the noise. Heard her screaming as she fell.

  Maybe he wasn't here at all.

  Her heart began to pound in her chest at the prospect of escape.

  You need to make a run for it, before he gets back.

  Ignoring the pain in both her hands and her head, Kaitlin went to get to her feet, but fell back down again when she tried to put pressure on her right leg. She squealed in pain and sat back down amongst the debris underneath her.

  Her right ankle was hurt. Probably sprained.

  Tears began to pour from her eyes. "Shit!" she screamed.

  Kaitlin sat for another moment while she got herself together. Be brave, she kept telling herself. Harry would want you to be brave.

  As she got up the second time she put most of her weight on her other leg, using her throbbing hands to try and balance herself as she struggled to her feet. It wasn't easy and the simple act of getting to her feet caused her a lot of pain, but she gritted her teeth and finally managed to stand up straight, her left leg taking most of her weight.

  She looked at her right hand. It was covered in blood. Inside her jacket was a thin scarf. She took it out and wrapped it around her right hand, struggling to do so because of the missing digit on her left. Eventually she got the scarf wrapped around her hand. She then used her teeth to pull the scarf tight so it wouldn't unravel.

  After that, she limped out of the bedroom, pausing on the landing outside. The stairs were immediately to her left. She listened a moment, still afraid the kidnapper might be in the house somewhere, but she saw nor heard any sign of him. Aware that she probably didn't have much time, she limped her way painfully down the creaky stairs to the hallway below. To her left was the front door. She looked at it, considered just opening the door and making a run for it until she realised she probably wouldn't get very far, not with her sprained ankle. Looking out the small window next to the door, all she could see was a concrete yard and fields beyond. Nothing else. No houses. No passing cars. Nothing.

  To her right was an open door, leading into the living room of the house. When she looked inside, she realised this must be where her kidnapper stayed. The room was filled with candles on the floor, some of which were still burning. On one of the walls were photographs of men she didn't recognise. The window in the room had two large holes in it, allowing a cold draft to get through that blew the dirty net curtains on either side. There was also a large bag in one corner of the room, which she could see was filled with guns and other stuff.

  Maybe there's a phone in there.

  She limped over to the bag and painfully knelt down beside it so she could rummage through it. With her bandaged right hand, she moved aside guns, knives, various tools and cans of food. Other things she didn't have time to discern what they were. She only wanted a phone. Nothing else.

  After searching through the whole bag she didn't find what she was looking for. "No," she groaned, tears running down her face again.

  She stayed on her knees crying for a moment, then forced herself to get it together. Started looking around the room.

  Then she saw it. A mobile phone. On the floor next to the old fireplace, beside an empty can of baked beans. "Yes!"

  Kaitlin got to her feet as quickly as she could, ignoring all the pain this time. She only cared about getting to the phone. She limped over and picked up the mobile. "Please be working, please be working…"

  The screen lit up when she pressed the power button. "Yes!"

  She waited interminable moments for the screen to load on the phone, during which time she repeated in her head the number she wanted to dial.

  Harry's number.

  Not long after he came into her life, Harry insisted that Kaitlin memorise his mobile phone number. He said there might be a time when she needed him and didn't have her own phone on her. So she committed his number to memory. Now she was glad she did.

  She dialled the number and put the phone to her ear.

  It started ringing.

  She closed her eyes and uttered a thank you.

  A few long, drawn out moments later, her call was answered. "Hello?"

  "Oh my God," Kaitlin said bursting into tears. "Harry, is that you?"

  "Kaitlin?" He sounded stunned, like he never expected to hear from her again.

  "It's me. Come and get me Harry, please. Before he comes back, please…"

  "Kaitlin, slow down, love. Where are you?"

  "I don't know. Some house somewhere. I don't know where."

  "Alright, hold on." It sounded like he was driving. There was a long pause, then he said, "Okay, Kaitlin. I'm here. You need to listen carefully to me, okay?" His voice was calm, like he was in control of ev
erything, which made her feel slightly calmer as well.

  She nodded. "Okay."

  "Good girl. We don't have much time here. Are you hurt?"

  She focused on all the pain running through her entire body and winced. "Yes, but I'm okay."

  "Can you move around okay?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I need you tell me where you are, Kaitlin. Exactly. Do you know?"

  Kaitlin looked around the room. "I'm in some old house. I don't know where."

  "Can you get outside?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay. Go outside, Kaitlin, and tell me what you see. Quick as you can. The man who took you is on his way back there. We need to do this before he gets back."

  Kaitlin's stomach turned over at the thought of her kidnapper coming back to find her, but she swallowed down her nausea and limped out of the living room and into the hallway. She had to pull on the swollen front door a few times with her injured right hand, but eventually she got the door open and went outside to the front of the house. "I'm outside," she told Harry.

  "Good girl. Now tell me what you see."

  Kaitlin walked over the front yard, away from the house, and looked around, the smell of concrete and something rotting in the air around her. "I see an old barn," she said. "It was painted red but most of the paint is flaked off. It seems empty."

  "That's good, Kaitlin. What else do you see? What colour is the house?"

  She stood back and looked at the house. It was the first time she had seen it from the outside and it was bigger than she initially thought it was. "White. But it's dirty. The windowsills are red, but most of the paint is gone."

  "Are there any vehicles in the yard?"

  "No. Yes. Not really a car or anything. A…what is called? A trailer. At the front of the barn."

  "Excellent. Now what's in front of the house? Fields?"

  She turned and looked at the expanse of grass that led away from the house. "Yes."

  "Is there anything in the fields?"

  "A big stone. A boulder, near the middle." She looked again. "And a pole."

  "A telegraph pole?"

  "Yes."