Different (18 page)

"It's a lot different from Canada but Sharon and Scott love it and so do I.” He grinned, “Why don't you and Mary come and take a look for yourselves?"

"I will later, but not yet. It's hard to explain but I need to stand on my own feet for a while, find out what I can achieve on my own.” Jay grinned, “But don't worry, if things don't work out, I'll yell so loud you'll hear me on the other side of the Atlantic."

She took his arm and led him away from the others to one side of the funeral car that was waiting to take them back to the cottage for the wake, almost all the village had turned out to pay their last respects, and she'd invited all of them back. Peter had arranged for caterers to provide the food and drink.

"Uncle Peter, you know that Granddad Tom found me after I'd been abandoned when I was three, did he ever mention anything else?"

"I don't think so Jay, why what's on your mind?"

"Do they use identity chips on dogs in America? You know they're implanted in their ear so that if they get lost they can be identified and returned to their owners."

"Sure and not just cats and dogs either, why?"

"You're a research scientist, if I gave you a chip, could you find out what it says for me?” Jay reached into her pocket and brought out the small cardboard box, opened it and took out the self-seal plastic envelope and held it up so he could see the miniaturized computer chip inside.

Peter took it from her and frowned, “I suppose so if it's important, who's dog was it taken from anyway?"

"It wasn't, when I was eight I wanted my ears pierced like the rest of the kids and they found this implanted in my right ear. Now that Tom and Anna are gone it's important that I find out what it means, it might say who my real parents are."

She didn't tell him that he might explain the special gifts she used to have as a child but now seemed to have deserted her, probably because she'd suppressed them for over a decade. The night following her memory about her and Granddad Tom's game of hide-and-seek and Anna's fall, Jay had tried to become. After stripping, she'd pressed herself against the tree but nothing happened and after a while she'd re-dressed and gone back to the house and to bed.

She fell asleep almost immediately and dreamt.

Fire raged through the darkness illuminating the rats that followed in it's wake feeding on it fellows who'd been trapped by the fire, there were iron rail tracks on the floor and she knew that she was in some old abandoned coal mine. She didn't feel threatened just uneasy as she followed the rats, the tunnel seemed to come to an end but then she saw they were at a junction and could turn either right or left and they turned left and the fire died out. Strangely though, she could still see and as she followed the pack, she realised that she could feel a flow of air on her skin and the rats were feeding again.

Jay almost screamed when she saw them tearing at the body of a woman wearing a white suit of some kind and on another body just behind it. She wanted to turn around and run but was pulled forward as though by an unseen hand and saw the boy completely encased in a block of ice except for one hand that protruded from the side. He looked familiar as though she'd seen him before! But then a rat sprang and fastened its jaws to one of the exposed fingers of his hand and she saw the flesh tear and blood slowly ooze from the wound. The rat was joined by another and the first rat dropped with a severed finger in its mouth and blood dripped onto the ground.

He's bleeding, she thought. Somehow the boy in the ice was alive and the rats would eat him bit by bit as the ice thawed.

Jay finally managed to scream and jerked awake, the nightmare still fresh in her mind. Nauseated, she got out of bed and went downstairs and into the kitchen and made some strong black coffee. She didn't want to go back to sleep.

The Devil's Footprint

Adam heard a scream and jerked awake. Instantly, he was aware of his predicament; of the ice that prevented him from breathing or moving and the intense pain in his left hand. He was barely able to see the rats that were tearing at his flesh. Two of them hung writhing and twisting with their jaws clamped into the raw bloody meat that his hand had become. It was almost unrecognisable as being a hand. Rage, terror and panic possessed him and as he tried to pull his arm back into the protection of the ice sending tremors through his frozen prison, he felt the ice shift.

Colours were passing in front of his eyes as his oxygen starved brain started to black out and he concentrated on moving his arm. He twisted it back and forth, pulled and pushed. A hairline crack appeared in the ice immediately in front of his face. Knowing it would be his last effort, he redoubled his struggles and suddenly his arm broke free and the pressure of the ice eased from his chest, but it was too late, he had to breathe. His chest heaved and instead of blacking out, he felt air flow into his lungs and with a cry of triumph, he shook his arm again. The ice in front of him fell away.

The rats launched themselves at him as he slumped to his knees, snapping at his face, arms and legs. He ignored their bites exploring the ground with his right hand, which closed around a piece of splintered wood. He fought then, beating the rats with the branch until they released him and fell to the ground. Then he was clubbing them in a fury until the ground was covered with their broken bloody corpses. Adam felt so weak, and knew his strength was almost gone, he had to find food and drink or he would die. He blacked out.

He woke feeling stronger and found he was chewing bloody meat and he looked in horror and disgust at the half eaten rat in his hand. Adam hurled it away from him and saw several more half consumed rodents by his feet. His left hand was healing fast though, and already replacement fingers were beginning to grow. Soon he would be strong enough to try and climb up out of there and back into daylight.

Three days later—10 a.m. New York

Russell was suffering from jet lag, because since he'd returned he'd been flying around the country organizing Henry's security. The Presidential election campaign was underway and the battle for the White House had begun, and Russell's ex-Vietnam buddy, Henry Lane was one of the leading contenders for the Vice-Presidency.

Leaning back in his chair, Russell closed his eyes and someone tapped on his door.

"Come in!” he said wearily, whoever it was had better have a good reason for disturbing him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lane,” Arlene, his new secretary said timidly, “But I thought you might want to see this.” She handed him a letter. “It's from a Doctor Peter Mallard, and he says he's found a micro chip that refers to some experimental work we were doing in the eighties in the UK. I tried to open the file on the computer but its restricted access."

Suddenly Russell was very much awake, “Leave it with me and I'll see to it personally,” he said.

Russell was grateful that the house was secluded, it meant he could let Sharon Mallard scream as loud as she liked as he lopped off the little finger of her right hand, he'd already finished with her left one. He'd arrived in New Hampshire that morning at first light and had been able to snatch a few hours of sleep.

"You seem to be all thumbs tonight.” he said picking up a severed forefinger and examining it thoughtfully as the woman's screams faded to be replaced with great wracking sobs intermingled with cries of pain. She was naked and spread-eagled face up on the table, secured with the thin nylon cord he preferred.

Her husband, the doctor was crying quietly, he too was naked and his manacled wrists were fastened to the chain of his leg irons, but unlike his wife, he was gagged. Russell had no doubt that the doctor would have answered his questions a long time ago, before he'd even started on Sharon's right hand, but it never hurt to let them see he meant business.

They'd been having dinner when he'd arrived and he'd accepted their offer to join them after he'd told them about the mislaid letter. He'd waited until Sharon had cleared the table before pulling out the gun and subduing them.

He removed the doctor's gag and bent to look into his eyes. “The chip, I want to know how you got hold of it and I want the truth, if I even suspect you're holding anything back or lying to me, I'll just have to start in on Sharon's toes once I'm done with her fingers."

"Nooo,” Sharon moaned, “Please, no!"

"I got it from my niece, well she's not really my niece, my dad found her when she was three,” the doctor said.

"When?"

"About 1990 in the spring, she was tied up in a bin liner, the chip was in her ear and she gave it to me three weeks ago after my father died.” He looked at Russell as though he expected him to start in on his wife again, but Russell knew he was telling the truth.
Shit! Jeremy had been right the Mallard girl was one of the monsters!
He'd have to find the girl again, this time he would make sure that she was dead.

"What's her name?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. It never hurt to get a confirmation.

"Jay-be-free Mallard, she's eighteen now and living in Nottingham. It's the truth! Please, you've got to believe me!"

"Oh I do doctor, I do,” Russell said and drew the blade of the stiletto across the man's throat. The doctor's eyes opened in shock and then the thin red line opened in a gaping wound and blood erupted all over the doctor's shirt as he made a coughing noise and slumped to the floor. He turned back to Sharon, and she started screaming again.

On the flight back to New York, Russell leaned back in his chair and smiled, he could picture Jay Mallard's smooth naked flesh. He thought about what he would do to her before he started in on her with his knives, and found himself getting aroused.

Jay hung up the telephone feeling numbed.
Uncle Peter and Aunty Sharon, murdered by burglars?
She couldn't believe it. Three members of her family had been murdered within a month of each other. Scott had sounded bewildered and hurt on the phone; she could still hear the horror in his voice.

"They raped my mom, Jay! Raped and tortured her, cut off all her fingers and ... I'm sorry you don't want to know the details. Dad was lucky, they just slit his throat. Jesus, Jay their blood was all over the dining room, I've seen the police photographs, fortunately our attorney had the place professionally cleaned before Mary and I got home. Look, their internments on Friday and I hope you don't mind, but I've booked a ticket for you for Wednesday on the 11a.m. flight to New York. Mary and I will be waiting for you and then we'll catch a plane home from there."

"Scott, I ... I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry but I just can't take it in. Look, I'll see you and Mary in a couple of days. Ok? Oh God, I'm so sorry!"

She sat on the bed for a while and then she remembered the micro chip she'd given her uncle at Tom's funeral just a few days ago and wondered if he'd ever found out what it meant.

A motorbike pulled up outside the cottage, and after dismounting from his bike the courier retrieved a clipboard from his pannier and hurried up to the front door.

Jay signed for the envelope that was addressed to her and after closing the door she carried the envelope into the kitchen. Opening it, she found two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds worth of gift vouchers from a large department store in Nottingham, and a small card that was obviously written by the store on Scott's behalf.

"Dear Jay, You may need a new flight bag and some other things. See you soon. Love from Mary & Scott.

PS: When you've finished shopping, go to the Saracen Casino in Trinity Square at about 7p.m. As for the manager, Spencer he's a family friend."

Nottingham was about a one hour drive but at least it would give her something to do and take her mind off things. Despite his grief, Scott was really thoughtful.

Jay parked on the lower level of a multi-storey car park in Nottingham's City Centre and entered the busy indoor shopping center. It was late in the afternoon by the time she had eaten, bought a new flight bag, and all of the other things she'd need. She decided to pass away a couple of hours by getting herself a tan before going to the casino.

Russell disguised as the Death Dancer walked on the opposite side of the road to the casino. Four white neon scimitars flashed on and off in sequence, giving the illusion that the scimitar was sweeping down to point at the red fluorescent letters that made the name, Saracen Casino appear to have been written in blood. He casually looked at the windows above the sign without slowing his pace.

To a casual observer, all of the office windows on the first floor looked identical, but the one he was seeking, although glowing faintly behind the drawn blinds like the others, this window had a security grill over it. It was in that room he'd find Spencer, Janine's brother. The casino was a three-storey building, and according Janine the ground floor housed the gaming rooms, the first floor the offices, the second floor small partitioned off bedrooms where the call girls who worked for Spencer, took the punters for sex. As soon as Jay Mallard had left for Nottingham with the gift vouchers Janine had sent in Scott's name, Janine had rung Spencer and told him she was sending him a girl to train as a hooker. By the time he'd realized he'd been set up, it would be too late for both him and the girl. Once the freak and Spencer were together, Russell planned to kill them both.

Crossing the road, he slipped into the narrow service road that ran along the back of the club. Removing the Berretta from his pocket, he checked the clip, which held a full seven rounds. He'd checked it earlier but he didn't take chances. From another pocket he removed the new stainless steel silencer and secured it to the pistol, checking that the safety catch was on, he pushed it into the special holster he'd made. Satisfied that when he reached under his jacket, the weapon drew smoothly without catching upon anything, he crept into the shadows.

The rear fire doors of the club took him about five minutes to open and he stepped inside the stairwell with his pistol at the ready. It was deserted but the thumping of the disco from the Oasis Club, next door, made him frown in irritation, but still the row should mask any noise he made. Taking a battery powered, high speed modeller's drill from his pocket; he drilled a small hole through the door just above the steel release bar.