Predator (10 page)
Joe glared at Khan’s impertinence.
Grace’s Evening Visitor
Grace stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the full-length mirror, to admire herself before shrugging into a fluffy white bathrobe. She was excited about the evening but she was running late. Her brother would be waiting and Derek would also be there.
A shy smile crossed her face as she thought about Derek.
That idiot Chris would be here any moment now to pick her up. The doorbell rang. Cursing under her breath, she peeped through the keyhole and then flung open the door.
‘Oh, my God! It’s you! What a pleasant surprise!’ said Grace.
‘I was in the neighbourhood, on my way to the party. I wondered if you needed a ride,’ he said, and handed her a red rose.
‘That would be so cool! Wait, let me call Chris and tell him not to come. Give me ten minutes to get ready, and I’ll be right back,’ said Grace obviously thrilled to see her visitor.
‘Can I come in and watch you doll up for the party?’ asked the visitor, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘No way in hell! You wait right here, you handsome, horny man!’ giggled Grace and flicked a speck of invisible dust off the shoulder of his tux with the rose, and hurried toward the stairs to her bedroom.
‘Wait, Grace. I’ve got something for you,’ said her surprise guest and pulled out a small hip flask. ‘As they say, one for the road, you must taste this. It’s a secret recipe … the finest wine ever … ’
‘You carry fine wine in a hip flask? Ha! Ha! Umm … fine, I’ll grab the glasses, but we need to make it quick, and I still need to dress up, and call Chris, or we’ll be late,’ laughed Grace. She rushed back with two wineglasses from the kitchen cabinet. ‘Here you go.’
‘As you say, my angel, now close your eyes,’ he said, and tipped the contents of the little flask into the two glasses. When Grace obediently closed her eyes, he slipped a tiny white pill into one drink.
‘A toast for you, my love, to your health! Open your eyes,’ said her unexpected visitor, and handed a glass to her. She barely tasted it, and tossed the wine down her throat and said, ‘done … ’
Her eyes widened as the room seemed to spin around her. The last thing she saw before completely blacking out was her surprise visitor standing smiling in front of her; her empty glass in his hand.
He let her lie on the floor while he emptied his glass into the sink, washed both glasses, wiped them, and neatly put them back into the cabinet where they belonged.
He gently picked up the supine Grace from the floor, carrying her in his strong arms like a bride. The door was not locked; and he used his elbow and foot to nudge it open. The sun had set, and the streetlights were dim. An SUV with tinted windows stood waiting at the kerb, engine running.
Grace’s visitor quickly glanced around. The place seemed deserted. He swiftly crossed the sidewalk to the waiting car, and placed the limp body gently on the backseat and rushed back to the house.
‘Hurry up!’ said the driver revving up.
‘Just give me a minute, I need to make sure the place is clean,’ the man threw over his shoulder as he headed back to the house.
He returned within minutes and climbed into the passenger seat beside the burly driver.
‘The boss called! He doesn’t want us hanging around here too long,’ said the driver.
‘Shut up, and drive, fool,’ said the man in a flat, emotionless voice. He fastened his seatbelt and looked back to see if Grace was all right.
She was out like a light. Sexy, semi-naked in a bathrobe, she looked every inch the most desirable woman that she always wanted to be for this man.
The Sandman’s coming in his train of cars
,
Jump for joy, for he’s about to give you a bouquet of scars
;
With moonbeam through the windows and wheels of stars
,
He shall sweep you off your feet with fine wine and cigars
;
Scream and shout your lungs out with fright
,
Do what you can, I’m a biological male, don’t try to fight
;
You stripped your soul; you’re not that smart
,
Burn in shame, while I rape your vagabond heart!
—The Predator
Party Night: 3 A.M.
In the dead of night, Joe’s vineyard seemed to come alive with a life of its own. Music blared. The dancers on the floor, hypnotized by the rhythm, were oblivious to everything but the Dolby input, akin to the rats of Hamelin. The harsh rays of the strobes sporadically beaconed over the sleeping trees in coloured hues as though trying to rouse them from their slumber to tell them something. A zephyr flirted with the floating candles and their tiny flames undulated. The reunion bash was on full throttle.
The intoxication levels hit new highs each time Prince touched his console. Laughter grew louder as nostalgia paved the way for dalliances.
Despite the turbulences brewing, Chris and Salmonella donned their sociable masks and returned to the party to play the perfect host and hostess. In Joe’s retreat, at the heart of the vineyard, heated discussions between Joe and Inspector Khan continued unabated, while Ram Singh waited meekly in a corner of the porch in case his master should need him. Inspector Khan resented his sycophantic servitude.
He couldn’t help wondering whether the radar of his cop instincts had moved into hyper mode, but the blips were going off like crazy, and, on an intuitive level he was certain he had arrived at the devil’s own lair. His resolution hardened to get to the bottom of the mystery and save Grace. Reality seemed to have abandoned the vineyard a long time ago, the music at the distance manifested as a dull thudding, as a backdrop to the palpable hostility on Joe’s porch.
The four worried friends headed back to the guesthouse with Chief leading the way. Away from the bright lights of the party, the guesthouse seemed plunged in darkness save for the fireflies creating their whimsical constellations in the dense foliage surrounding the villa.
The clear night sky cast eerie shadows on the ground, and a pair of bats swished noiselessly overhead. The cicadas chirruped in the background and an animal howled plaintively far away. Something dreadful and evil seemed afoot. Deprivation of proper sleep for several days in a row had rendered Goose into a zombie state: his mind capable of only one thought at a time – was there a grain of truth in those folklores?
The events of the evening kept replaying in each one’s mind. Upon reaching the guesthouse, Chief vaulted over the picket fence, but before he could switch the portico lamp on, Derek froze in his tracks, put a finger on his lips and whispered, ‘Shhh! Did you hear that?’
Hound turned around to look in the direction of Joe’s villa, which was now out of sight. ‘I did, Derek. I’m sure I heard it too, it sounded like a scream, I’m not sure … ’ The music throbbed at a distance. Hound gulped audibly and cleared his throat before he spoke, ‘could that have been Grace? Maybe the urban legend is true? Is it possible that the devil has taken her?’
‘Chill, dude,’ said Chief. ‘It must be the party animals. You’re spooked, Hound, take a break. Or it could be Goose’s stomach growling. He found free food today!’
Goose had joined Chief on the guesthouse porch and was trying to locate the switches for the lights. ‘Chief ’s right, Hound! Don’t lose it! True, Grace is missing, but the last thing I want to do now is babysit a superstitious fool!’
But Goose had heard the scream as well. It had creeped him out. It had sounded like the scream of a terrified woman.
Chief saw a flight of stairs by the porch that he hadn’t noticed before. It seemed to lead to the roof. He took two stairs at a time and was up on the roof in a jiffy. He took stock of his surroundings as best as he could in the poor light afforded by the crescent moon and her bevy of stars. He was on sloping roof, about three storeys above ground. The staircase seemed a sort of a fire escape. Looking down, he could see Hound, Derek and Goose, and, although he couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, he could see they were pointing in the general direction of the gala.
He positioned himself at a safe place on the tiles; he had a bird’s eye view of the vineyard. To the north, the party venue was a brightly lit, circular patch with the stage and dance floor on eastern side of the clearing. The strobes bathed the area in light at irregular intervals. At this distance his college mates were miniscule specks.
To the south, about half a kilometre away, he could see the bright lights at the gates and the parking lot, but it was darkness beyond. The west was crepuscule in shades of black. It was the long winding road through the wooded patch that led to the vineyard. The graveyard lay somewhere in that direction.
To the east, lay Joe’s villa. And, although he wasn’t a hundred per cent sure of it, the scream seemed to have come from somewhere between Joe’s villa and the party venue. It seemed to be the darkest area in the vast estate. Chief strained his eyes to spot any movement, but he could see nothing. It seemed as if the entire vineyard had donned a veil to hide the deep, dark secret within its womb.
Chief ’s gaze lay transfixed on the villa for a while. It seemed to hide something sinister. The hair on the nape of his neck prickled as the scream resonated inside his head and an unknown entity seemed to linger around him. He heard the sound of heavy breathing and felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned around, but no one was there. He was thoughtful as he slowly descended from the roof and joined the others. He believed that he did not have the kind of runaway imagination as the rest of his crew, and was convinced there was someone, not something, up there on the roof watching them.
‘Where the hell have you been, Chief?’ quizzed Goose. They had switched on the porch lights, which were imitation railway lanterns swinging from the beams under the slanting roof, and were seated on the tasteful wicker patio furniture. Derek, who seemed preoccupied, had lit up a cigarette. Hound had brought out a jug of water from the kitchen and was drinking glass after glass of it desperately wanting the ‘close to water’ phenomenon to work. The last time they were on the beach, their IQ level had shown tremendous improvement.
The dimly lit porch created a world of its own. Nothing was visible beyond the sphere of light. The ink of night seemed to have seeped into their souls and they felt numb.
‘I went up to the roof to recce the place. We’ve got some exploring to do tomorrow morning. There’s nothing out there, but my imagination,’ said Chief, and sat down heavily on a chair; he looked at Goose, hoping that Derek and he would understand why he’d been to the roof. He’d reckoned that it was best to play along for now if Grace had to be found.
The scream, although Goose chose to wish it away, had been quite distinct. Goose could sense that Chief was being deliberately secretive, but he had seen or heard something while on the roof.
Hound had rapidly sunk into a state of despair. ‘I hope Grace is alright,’ he choked.
‘If not, then I hope she’s already dead!’ said Derek flatly. He stubbed out his cigarette on the floor and lit another.
To Goose’s horror, in one fluid movement, Hound rose, and punched Derek on his jaw. The cigarette fell unheeded. Hound rained blows on Derek’s head and arms as Derek tried to protect his face without retaliating. Chief watched stoically and chose not to interfere. Goose sat dumbstruck.
Just as suddenly, Hound tore away from Derek and slumped back into the chair and held his head between his hands and sobbed, ‘You’re right, Derek. I’m sorry. I just pray that my little sister is all right. Or I hope she’s died a quick painless death instead of being brutalized for days on end … ’
Goose saw the silhouettes of two people as they crossed the picket fence and walked towards the porch.
Party’s Over: 4 A.M.
‘I see we’ve been missing out on a lot of action here’, sniggered Prince as he and Salmonella sauntered up the stairs to the porch. ‘So, who won?’ asked Prince, grinning from ear to ear. He withdrew a packet of roll-ups from his pocket and lit up.
‘You guys missed a great party. I’d composed a new mix just for tonight. I call it mixing pain and pleasure! Those imbeciles danced all night … ’ Prince blew a stream of smoke straight up into the air, and lounged against a pillar.
