Harvest (55 page)

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 been 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.