The Last Weekend

by Julie Morrigan

  ‘Did you notice how intense the colour of his eyes was?’ said Indigo.

  ‘Bright green. Never saw anything like it in my life.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I had a friend with eyes similar to that. She wore coloured contact lenses, that’s why the colour was so vivid.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘The eyes in the bag were light brown, but I saw a contact lens in there, too. A green one. Those were Technogeek’s eyes.’

  ‘Holy fuck!’ JacktheRiffer pulled JunkieScum closer to him. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ he asked.

  ‘You, again!’ said Monkeyboy, glaring at Indigo. ‘It’s always you who finds the bad shit.’

  ‘SpeedKing and I were there, as well,’ said Mayfly. ‘Indigo had nothing to do with what we found.’

  ‘You would say that,’ said Monkeyboy, ‘you’re his fucking girlfriend, Juliet to his fucking Romeo! Had you really not met before yesterday? Because it’s all looking pretty fucking suspicious to me!’

  ‘Wait a minute!’ said Mayfly. ‘You’re getting paranoid, you need to calm the fuck down.’

  ‘It’s not paranoid if people really are out to get you,’ Monkeyboy said, ‘and someone is, and I’ve got a bad feeling about you two.’ He turned and pointed at JacktheRiffer. ‘And him. Someone’s trying to kill us all off, that’s a fact. You two fellas have found the bodies and the … the eyes, that’s also a fact.’ He pointed at Mayfly. ‘You can’t vouch for them because you’re one of the gang. Fact!’ He looked at SpeedKing. ‘And I’m not sure about you, either.’

  ‘Oh, fuck off. We’re in this, the same as you,’ said Indigo. ‘We haven’t done anything wrong. It could just as easily have been you and someone else who found the bodies … but we were the ones with the balls to actually volunteer to go and look.’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ said DeadManWalking. He turned to Monkeyboy. ‘Seriously, were you ever going to volunteer to go and find out what had happened to Scaredycat after you knew Reaperman had been killed?’

  Monkeyboy’s mouth flapped.

  ‘Calm down, honey,’ BlackWidow said. ‘I’m pretty sure what’s happening here has nothing to do with any of us.’

  ‘If it makes you feel better, you can say who we should search with in future,’ said Indigo.

  ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry,’ said Monkeyboy, sitting down suddenly. ‘I’m just on edge.’

  ‘We all are,’ said SpeedKing. He dropped the keys he had gathered up on to the table. ‘All the doors on the second floor are locked, now. Here are the keys.’

  JacktheRiffer dug in his jeans pocket. ‘Here’s the front door key, as well.’ he said, putting it alongside the pile.

  ‘Good, and all our rooms are locked, too. Should make those places safe, anyway,’ said BlackWidow.

  ‘What now?’ asked Monkeyboy.

  ‘Same as before,’ said BlackWidow. ‘We stay together. No one goes off anywhere alone.’

  ‘Shall we try the laptop, now?’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ said JacktheRiffer.

  DeadManWalking took the machine out of its bag and placed it on the coffee table. He slotted the power cord connector into the machine and handed the plug to Indigo, who pushed it into a wall socket.

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ DeadManWalking said, as he switched the machine on. The screen came alive and within a few minutes it had booted up.

  ‘I don’t suppose we can get online?’ said SpeedKing.

  DeadManWalking looked at the screen. ‘I don’t even see a browser icon,’ he said. ‘Would someone else like to take a look?’

  ‘We could do with Technogeek,’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘Here,’ said SpeedKing, ‘let me.’ He clicked on the start button and checked the list of installed programs. ‘Internet Explorer,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what that gives us.’

  ‘Anything?’ said JunkieScum, as SpeedKing opened the browser.

  ‘Nothing. No connection,’ said SpeedKing.

  ‘Shit!’ said Indigo, ‘of course there isn’t! The phone line’s been cut, hasn’t it?

  ‘What a waste of fucking time,’ muttered DeadManWalking.

  ***

  Later that evening, the group of people who had gathered for The Last Weekend – those who hadn’t yet been spirited away and murdered – sprawled haphazardly around the sitting room at the front of the house. They were surrounded by food and empty food wrappers, having earlier made a raid on the kitchen and picked up whatever seemed easily portable. Bread, butter, cheese and ham sat on one coffee table, crisps, biscuits and the remains of a fruitcake on another. Side tables were littered with cans, bottles and knives, and Monkeyboy was well on the way to being drunk.

  ‘Take it easy there, mate,’ advised JacktheRiffer, himself not a sober man. ‘Dangerous to be in that state in here.’

  ‘You lot will look after me, won’t you?’

  ‘Well, yeah, as much as we can.’

  ‘Then I think I’ll have another. Just so long as you don’t put me at the back of the line if we go down to the basement again.’ He raised his can in salute, then started to giggle. The giggles became hysteria, then he sobbed, gulped and sniffed. ‘Christ, what are we doing! This is my worst nightmare.’

  ‘Same for all of us,’ said Indigo. He put his hand on Monkeyboy’s arm. ‘Slow down a little though, eh?’

  Monkeyboy nodded. ‘Let’s get some folks together and go through to the kitchen. I could do with a coffee.’

  ‘I’ll come,’ said SpeedKing. ‘I could do with one myself.’

  ‘Any chance of a tea?’ said JunkieScum.

  ‘We’ll bring pots back,’ Mayfly said, as she stood up to go along and help.

  ‘Be careful,’ said Indigo.

  The three of them went through to the kitchen, Monkeyboy pushing the trolley. Once there, they put the kettle on for tea then set the coffee machine away. SpeedKing found a teapot and teabags, milk and sugar, and Mayfly filled the trolley with mugs. Once Monkeyboy had sorted out the coffee and the tea had brewed, they piled the tea and coffee pots on to the trolley and wheeled it back through.

  Indigo and JacktheRiffer were missing when they got back.

  ‘Where have the guys gone?’ asked SpeedKing.

  ‘Toilet trip,’ said BlackWidow.

  ‘I could do with one of those,’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘Come on then, let’s go,’ said SpeedKing. ‘We should meet them coming back.’ They parked the trolley and headed off to the lavatory on the ground floor.

  As they were walking across the hall, they heard a commotion – raised voices and doors banging. They shared a look then broke into a run. Indigo and JacktheRiffer burst out through the door of the gents’ as they got there.

  ‘What the fuck?’ said SpeedKing. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Someone tried to grab me,’ said Indigo.

  ‘Are they still in there?’

  ‘No, no. I mean, they dropped a rope through the ceiling and tried to lasso me with it. Come on, I’ll show you.’

  They all crowded inside.

  ‘So, what happened?’ said SpeedKing.

  ‘I was in that cubicle when all of a sudden there was a bang, and then this rope flew at me from the ceiling,’ said Indigo. He pointed. ‘Look; there’s a trapdoor.’

  ‘I wonder where it leads to,’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘I don’t know, but I don’t fancy climbing up to find out,’ said JacktheRiffer.

  ‘Definitely not,’ said Indigo.

  ‘What about the other cubicle; is there a hatch in that one as well?’ said Monkeyboy.

  Indigo pushed the door open. ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘Right, well from now on we just use that one cubicle. Agreed?’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘Agreed,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Come on; let’s tell the others what happened. The women will need to check the ladies’ room to see if they’ve also got a hatch in the ceiling.’

  SpeedKing led the way as they jogged back to the sitting room, keeping o
ne another in sight the whole time.

  The news was met with shock and disbelief. JunkieScum took JacktheRiffer’s face in her hands. ‘Christ, it could have taken either or both of you!’

  ‘I wonder how many more trapdoors there might be, hidden around the place,’ said Monkeyboy. ‘We’ve had a hidden door, now a trapdoor, there’s an attic we can’t get to …’ he shuddered.

  ‘Come on,’ said Mayfly, ‘let’s get the drinks poured. A cuppa might just help calm the nerves.’

  ***

  Slayer was upstairs, seated at the computer and watching them on the monitor. ‘Next time,’ he muttered.

  He knew the trapdoor snatch had been a long shot, but he had been so pleased with the way in which he’d managed to grab the green-eyed man from the back of the line as they trooped down into the basement – not only grab him, but make sure he didn’t cry out and also that the knife he carried didn’t clatter on the floor and alert the others – that he had got overly confident.

  He devoted one monitor to keeping an eye on the group and cheered himself up by watching videos of his kills so far on the other. He saved the film of Scaredycat for last. She had been so grateful. And she was proof he was not a monster; he had been merciful in his killing, where mercy was warranted.

  Chapter 25

  A little later, JunkieScum fired up the laptop and plugged in her memory stick.

  ‘What is it?’ JacktheRiffer asked. ‘What’s on it?’

  ‘It’s an MP3. My guess would be that it’s the interview with Reaperman.’ She turned the sound down low and started to play the file, stopping it when she’d heard enough to know she was right. She had no desire to share her reasons for being there with the whole group, especially not under the circumstances. She realised the killer must have listened to it – listened to all of them – and she shuddered. The familiar sense of shame and guilt washed over her as she thought of the child she’d not known she was carrying, and had lost due to substance abuse. She unplugged her memory stick and put it into her jeans pocket, then reached for Scaredycat’s and plugged it into the machine.

  ‘I think we should listen to this,’ she said.

  ‘Woah, hold on a minute,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘I don’t think you should play that.’

  ‘She’s dead. We know her real name was Tracey Thomson. We should at least try to understand what drove her to come here this weekend,’ said JunkieScum.

  ‘I’m not so sure about that. Listening to her interview seems really intrusive,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘What do the rest of you think?’

  ‘Show of hands,’ said JunkieScum. ‘Should we listen?’ She put her hand up, and counted the others. ‘Five for, three against. If you three don’t want to hear, you could always go next door.’

  JacktheRiffer looked at DeadManWalking and Monkeyboy, who’d also voted against. DeadManWalking shrugged and Monkeyboy shook his head, but neither made a move.

  ‘No, go ahead,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Maybe you’re right, maybe we should try to understand.’

  JunkieScum clicked on the file and after a moment or two, they heard Reaperman’s voice.

  ***

  ‘Tell me, Scaredycat,’ said Reaperman, ‘why do want to book a place on The Last Weekend?’

  ‘Where do you want me to start?’

  ‘At the beginning. Take as long as you feel you need.’

  Scaredycat sighed. ‘I was born frightened. I swear, I could hear my parents shouting and fighting while I was still in the womb. I didn’t want to come out at all, especially not to that. The actual abuse started when I was tiny, before I can actually remember anything. I know it did, because from the point of my first memories, nobody was surprised or shocked by anything. Including me. That’s not the same as not being scared, or disgusted, or sickened, by the way. It doesn’t mean that you get to like any of that stuff. It just becomes a part of your everyday routine. Get up, get washed, clean your teeth, get dressed and go to school, come home, clean the house, cook a meal, take a beating because something is wrong with the food, do your homework, go to bed, get woken up in the early hours because somebody wants a blow job. It’s remarkable, the things people can get used to.’ There was a long pause. ‘I remember this one time. He … my father, he was the worst one … he came into my bedroom and woke me up. I don’t know what time it was, exactly, other than the middle of the night. I should have known something was up because he was nice. Kind and gentle, you know? He didn’t want me “carrying on”, as he called it when I got upset about things. He lifted me out of bed and carried me downstairs. I remember covering my eyes because I’d gone from being fast asleep in a dark room to somewhere that was brightly lit. He took me into the front room. Three of his friends were there, and my mother. They made me …’

  Scaredycat’s voice petered out and was replaced by the sound of her crying.

  ‘Take your time. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I want to. I want you to understand.’ She took a deep breath. ‘They made me perform oral sex on them, one after the other, while they watched and cheered and jeered. All five of them. Then they just put me out of the room and left me to go back to bed on my own. I was eight, I think. Another time, when I was about twelve, my father had a couple of mates who were going away on a fishing weekend. He gave me to them for the trip. I had to cook for them and clear up and … you know. He charged them for me. For my services. I could give a blow job before I could tie my shoelaces. I lost my virginity before I started school. I have never had a sexual experience that I initiated. It always, even now, seems to end up being some sick thing where there’s fear or abuse of power or some kind of force or dominance involved. I gravitate towards people like that. It’s like I’ve been programmed; I can’t help myself.’

  ‘They used you when you were small.’

  ‘It was like I wasn’t even human. They took me out, used me and put me away afterwards in the same way as somebody would get the vacuum cleaner out and use it and put it away. I’ve been free of them for years now; they don’t know where I live, they could be dead for all I know. I’ve had therapy and God knows what, I can talk about it rationally and even give the impression that I’m coping. But I’m not. That’s just another mask, you know? Like the one I wore at school and church and Brownies and Guides. I learned to make up a complete fantasy life that I would tell people about, like how my mother baked cakes and my dad read me stories and family friends bought me presents. I used to steal things and pretend someone who cared about me had bought them for me. The only outward thing someone might have noticed, might still notice, is that I find it hard to eat if other people are present. I’ve been forced to put things in my mouth so many times while people watched that I …’

  Her voice trailed off.

  ‘It’s okay, Scaredycat,’ said Reaperman, ‘I’ve heard more than enough to understand why you’re here.’

  ‘I’ve tried living with it, I really have. All I’ve managed to do is to prove to myself that I can’t. I just want to make it stop. The fear. I feel as if I’ve always been afraid. I don’t want to be afraid any more.’

  The recording ended. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then JunkieScum broke the silence.

  ‘Christ almighty, that’s awful.’

  ‘Her parents should be horsewhipped.’ DeadManWalking wiped his eyes. ‘Some people just don’t deserve to have kids. Poor little soul.’

  ‘No wonder she was so thin,’ said Monkeyboy.

  ‘She hardly ate at dinner last night,’ said SpeedKing. ‘I thought she must just be nervous.’ He picked up the plastic bag they’d retrieved from the toilet cistern. ‘Here’s another one we should listen to,’ he said. ‘Technogeek. He deserves to be known.’ He took out the memory stick and handed it to JunkieScum.

  ‘Are we all up to this?’ she asked. ‘Can we take more misery?’

  ‘We owe it to them. Someone should know what drove them to this place, why they wanted to die.’ Monkeyboy paused. �
��Why they did die, like they did.’ He turned to JunkieScum. ‘Go on, play the recording.’

  Chapter 26

  ‘So, Technogeek, what’s your reason for wanting to be picked for The Last Weekend?’ said Reaperman.

  They heard Technogeek draw in a breath and blow it out. ‘I haven’t ever fitted in,’ he said. ‘That’s hard, you know? I … er … I …’

  ‘Just take your time. There’s no hurry.’

  ‘I was just always different. When I was a kid, I would try to join in with things, but the other kids could sense something about me that wasn’t like they were. It might start out all right, but before long I was getting elbowed or tripped up.

  ‘I got sick of all the practical jokes. People think the pranks they pull are funny, and they might be if they’re being done to someone else or if everyone takes turns to be the butt of the joke. They’re not very flipping funny when they’re always at your expense, though. When you’re always the one having stuff tipped over you or written about you or said about you or pinned to your back or whatever.

  ‘There was this one time, I was cornered in the gym at school. It wasn’t difficult, I’m not much of a runner. They beat me senseless then urinated on me. Actually pissed on me. There’s only so much of that you can take, you know?’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘I took self-defence classes so I could at least fight back a little, and I got through the last couple of years of school. University was better. I found a little gang of like-minded people. We were into computers and sci-fi, we all fitted together really well. No one noticed us; it was like we were transparent, the others would look right through us and that was fine, it was better than being noticed and taunted.

  ‘Then I started work.’

  ‘And what was that like?’

  ‘Right back to square one. Honestly, they were supposed to be professional people, but they behaved worse than the kids at school. My life wasn’t worth living. I moved jobs, but the next place was the same. I don’t know what it is, there must just be something about me that people hate.

  ‘Then I was walking home from the pub one night and I got jumped. All the self-defence moves I’d learned came back to me and I defended myself. I caught the bloke in the throat with a straight-fingered strike and his windpipe collapsed. He died, there and then. I tried to revive him but it was no use. There was no one around so I just ran away and left him to be found. It was self-defence, but who’d have believed me? I would have been sent to prison, even though it wasn’t my fault. But I killed someone. Doesn’t matter who started it, I can’t live with myself. Not after that. I’m … I’m a murderer.’