Split (20 page)

“What?”

“Don’t go wishing to relive the trauma you
experienced, or you risk attracting violence to yourself. If not in real life, then at least in your dreams. It was bad enough that you had to endure it once, but you have been reliving that trauma in your nightmares, hoping to find a new resolution.”

Mak stopped and let that sink in.

My God, she’s right.

“I never thought about it that way.”

Ann looked directly at her, those intelligent brown eyes holding her thoughts, her secrets. “You were abducted by a terrible person and the police managed to find you before it was too late. The crime was in abducting you, Makedde, not in saving you.”

But no one could save my mother. Why should I be saved when no one could save her?

“This detective, Andy Flynn, hasn’t done anything wrong, except perhaps being insensitive to your feelings about the situation.”

“Oh, he is so bad for me. I can’t tell you,” Makedde blurted, the tears still running freely down her face. “I don’t know what it is about him. I think he’s basically a decent man, but something about him just signals trouble. Nothing but trouble.” She was on a roll now. “I have actually been dating someone, finally, for the first time since I got back from all that crap in Australia. This guy, Roy Blake, seems really sweet too.”

Ann looked up. “Roy Blake?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s tall and good-looking, and he works as a security guard at the university. I know…I know…
cops, security guards…not much difference.” Mak took a deep breath. “Nice guy, I think. He looks out for me, he brings me flowers…” She was aware that she was rambling. Her thoughts were running off in ten directions at once.

“Makedde, it is a very positive sign that you decided to date someone new. That is exactly what you should be doing. Going out and enjoying the company of some new people. It is a sign that you are moving on—”

“But I haven’t finished yet.” She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. The words were hard. “I ended up in bed with Andy last night. It just happened. I hadn’t planned it at all. That is what I meant when I said I had done something stupid. I don’t know. I feel like a total…slut or something. It’s all wrong. I mean with Andy showing up suddenly, and freaking me out with this news about an investigation at the university. The Nahatlatch Murders. And he made it sound like some psycho is actually hunting for victims at UBC. Like he is dragging them out into the wilderness and shooting them like animals…and he’s hunting for them at my university! And I wasn’t doing so hot before that news anyway…I feel like everything is out of control here. I’m out of control. I mean; I slept with him…”

Calm down, Makedde. You’re losing it.

“Did you not want to?” Ann said.

Mak took a deep breath. She thought about that. Yes, she had wanted to. She hadn’t planned to, but she had wanted to.

“You are trying to overcome some issues right now. Your insomnia is your body’s way of saying, ‘Hey, you need to sort this out.’ Make sure every step you take is one that will bring you closer to a resolution, Makedde. I think it is wise that you have decided to speak to someone about this.”

No kidding? I can’t believe it took me so long.

“I’m not sure what to do now. I’ve never felt like this.” Makedde thought of how she was with Roy, and then Andy the very next night. “I’ve never acted like this. I am afraid of making more bad decisions.”

“Take it easy and look out for number one, okay? And remember that you don’t owe these men anything, Makedde. It is okay to ask for space.”

But I owe Andy my life.

Makedde didn’t say it, but she thought it.

I owe him my damn life.

Dr Morgan suggested that she see her again in two days, and Mak agreed. She drove home, feeling drained. She lay on her bed for several hours before sleep finally came.

Debbie Melmeth woke to the sound of footsteps. She tried to open her eyes, and was met with a jab of searing-hot pain along the side of her face. Her left eye stubbornly refused to open wider than half an inch in its stiff, swollen state.

She sat perfectly still and squinted in the direction of the sound, the direction of the only entrance to the small room which had held her for days. The footsteps stopped. She watched the doorknob as it turned…

No. No, not more!

She had been tricked.
Damn him.
She had given herself to him and it had gotten her nowhere. Now he called her a whore, an animal, and she was confined once more.

Debbie watched as her captor approached, dressed in head-to-toe black, and carrying a hunting rifle.

He placed the gun to her forehead and looked at her without compassion. She did not move a muscle,
for fear he would pull the trigger right there and then. The barrel felt cold on her skin.

“Cooperate now, little lady, and you’ll be just fine.” He smirked. Then he knelt down and reached for her ankles. She flinched at his touch. She felt the release with a series of metallic clicks.

Should she kick out at him? Could she? She imagined the blast of the gun, taking her head clean off, and she resisted the urge. She sat still.

And then he was up again, the cuffs undone, and her arms and legs were finally freed.

My God, I’m free.

She was shoved forward and instinctively hugged herself. Her captor forced her arms behind her again and her wrists were handcuffed together just as tightly as before.

She was ordered to stand.

But she couldn’t move. She had neither the will, nor the physical strength. She said nothing, just sat there with her arms behind her back and her raw ankles throbbing in pain. She didn’t want to stand. She didn’t believe that anything she did would make any difference now. He’d had his way with her and she felt worthless. She didn’t believe in anything any more.

“
Up
.” He shoved the gun’s cold barrel between her shoulder-blades, nudging her forward. “Stand.
Now
.”

Hesitantly, Debbie forced herself to stand. An involuntary cry escaped her throat as she rose and she
struggled to remain strong as her knees threatened to buckle. She did not want to fall at his feet. She did not want to lose what tiny shred of dignity she had left.

“Now, walk forward.”

The gun barrel jabbed at her, pushing her forward, and then they were moving together in a kind of funeral march, heading towards the door she had stared at for so many hours—for so many days. Then magically, she was through that door, out of that room and walking down a hallway. She’d had visions of making it through that door, but at no time did she imagine it would be like this, with a gun aimed at her back, defeated and used.

“Please—” she began. It was a word she had used many times in the previous days, without success.

Debbie was marched to the front door, floorboards creaking under her feet. The man kicked open a door in front of her and suddenly she saw the dark outdoors. She had started to wonder if she would ever see outside again. It was night and there were no lights anywhere.

The gun stayed pressed to her back as Debbie was pushed through damp grass.

“Walk,” came the now familiar voice from behind her, and she did as it said.

Debbie stubbed her toe on something and tripped. She fell forward, felt her balance go, and suddenly hands reached out of the blackness to grab her and hold her upright.

“Careful now…” came the voice.

It seemed an odd comment.
Careful or what, I might hurt myself?

After several metres, the pathway in the grass appeared to end at a wall of trees. Finally, the gun was pulled away and Debbie was in the middle of nowhere, facing the cold, dark forest.

It is time now,
she thought.
Time to die.

She felt a tug at her wrists, heard the click of the handcuffs. They were off. They were finally off, she was free, she was out of that horrible room, out of that cabin but it meant nothing now, and she knew it.

“Run.” The voice behind her was emotionless. “
Now
.”

There was no light to guide her way.

None at all.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the faint moonlight, but even so she could barely see a thing. She did not want to run. She did not want to play this game. If he was letting her go, then he should let her go near a road where she stood a chance of finding help. Not this way. Not in a strange forest, alone.

Instead of running as she had been ordered, Debbie turned towards her captor. Better to face death head-on, rather than get shot in the back, if that’s what was intended for her. Slowly she turned towards him, searching for those awful, compassionless eyes that had watched her plead and beg for mercy.

She did not find them. Instead she found great long stalks where his eyes were supposed to be.

Debbie screamed, and started to run.

The Hunter gave her sixty seconds.

Then he adjusted his night-vision goggles, and followed.

It was a beautiful day at UBC—sunny, but with a crisp autumn bite in the air. Mak sat on a bench waiting for Roy, her neck wrapped in a warm scarf against the chill. When she had woken up that morning, she knew what to do. Sleep had helped to clear her mind. She needed time by herself. She needed space.

Mak had called Roy on his mobile and left a message for him to meet her on campus. It was best to just be honest and get it over with. They had barely had a chance to get to know each other, but she had to stop seeing him now. Roy’s arrival in her life could have been a further wedge between Mak and her former lover, but instead, she had found herself in Andy’s bed as well. She didn’t want to be split between two men. It was better to cut it off with both, and be alone until she got her head together.

She spotted Roy approaching along the pathway, right on time. He was dressed in his security guard uniform and carrying a small box wrapped in pretty
gold paper. She knew it would be a gift for her, and that made her want to cringe.

Roy greeted her with a chaste kiss and sat beside her on the bench, smiling boyishly. He had shaved recently and she could smell the Azzaro aftershave. His skin glistened slightly in the sun. His hair was gelled, his uniform neatly pressed. He looked handsome, and she almost didn’t want to let him go.

“Hi, Mak.” He smiled at her—his face positively lit up. “You look very beautiful today. But then again, you always look beautiful.” Mak gritted her teeth. “Thanks. I, um…I actually wanted to talk with you about something, Roy.” He perked up. He shouldn’t have perked up.

“Great.” He extended his small wrapped parcel. “This is for you.”

“Thank you, Roy, but—”

“Would you like to open it now?”

Makedde took a deep breath. “I think we may want to wait on that until I tell you what I need to say. Thanks for the gift, but…I just need to talk with you about something first.”

He nodded and looked at her with those big brown eyes, his face suddenly serious. “It’s not about me following you home that first night again, is it? I’m sorry about that. I was just looking out for you—”

“Roy…I don’t think we should see each other for a while,” she said.

His face dropped.

“There’s a lot going on in my life at the moment which I need to sort out, so I shouldn’t really be seeing anyone just now. I’m sorry.”

He appeared totally confused. “Is it something I did?”

“No, no. You have been lovely. I just would rather be alone.”

Roy looked puzzled, and hurt. Yes, he definitely looked hurt.

Am I doing the right thing? Am I ruining a potentially good thing?

“I’m sorry, Roy. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I didn’t want to just avoid you or anything. I wanted to be upfront about it.”

He squinted and pursed his lips. “Is there someone else?” he said suspiciously. She didn’t like the look in his eye when he said it. Nor did she appreciate his tone.

“No, not really. It’s just me.”
Don’t bring Andy into this.

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Not
really
? So there
is
someone else?”

“No,” Makedde repeated, more firmly this time. She didn’t like this sudden aggression.

“Who is he?” Roy demanded.

She saw a flash of anger, and it made her nervous. She stiffened and sat upright.

“
Who is he
?” she lashed back. “I just said there is no one else. I don’t want to see you, okay? Don’t you get that?”

Perhaps that came out a little nastier than necessary.

“No!” he spat. “No, it’s not okay. I want a good reason. I want a good reason for why you would lead me on like this. What are you, some kind of tease?”

Makedde’s jaw fell open. “Roy!”

He shut up and covered his face with his hands.

“Roy, you are being totally unreasonable,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, shaking his head, berating himself. “I didn’t mean to say that. That was wrong. Please forgive me. Won’t you give me another chance?”

“I don’t think we should see each other any more, Roy,” she said firmly.

“But, Makedde, I really care about you.” He reached for her hand and she pulled it away. “Will you let me be your friend at least? Please?”

“Just…just accept my apologies and go. There’s no hard feelings or anything.”

“You don’t want me?” He sounded like a spoilt child.

“Roy.” She was annoyed. He couldn’t have missed it. “Don’t do that.” She gave him a firm and steady “back off” look and felt her body prepare for a possible confrontation.
What if he freaks out and gets violent?

Roy looked at her for a while and she looked straight back.

“But, Makedde, I can help you. I know what you’ve been through, and I can help you.”

A chill went up her spine.

“Professor Gosper told me all about it. It’s terrible what you’ve been through. I can understand why you’re pushing me away, but really, I can help you.”

“Professor Gosper told you about
what
?”

“About the man who abducted you in Sydney. The serial killer.”

Her blood ran cold.

Her toe began to tingle.

“I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

“Don’t do this, Makedde. I can help you,” he pleaded.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Don’t push me away! I understand you! I can help you!” He opened his mouth again to protest, but stopped, stood up and tossed his gift on the ground so hard that it bounced on the pavement. He stormed off in a huff in the direction he had come.

Makedde sat on the bench and hung her head.

Damn.

That hadn’t been as easy as she had hoped.

And he knew all about Sydney!

When Makedde finally left the bench she wasn’t sure what to do about the little gold box. If she gave it back it would mean facing him again, and if she left it at his work station or something similar it would be like rubbing salt in his wounds. She wished he had just taken it with him, whatever it was.

I should at least open it,
she thought.

Makedde bent over to pick up the little box. It felt light in her grasp, the gold paper smooth under her fingertips. Carefully, she peeled open one end of the neat wrapper and pulled out the box.

Chocolate.

Inside was a large milk-chocolate heart sitting in a bed of crimson gift paper, but his act of throwing it to the ground had caused it to break—right through the centre from top to bottom.

The heart was split.

Mak fought a terrible melancholy as she drove home.

In no time at all the weather had turned nasty, just like her day. The clouds had come over as soon as she reached Zhora in the university carpark, and now rain lashed the sides of her car and thunderclouds hung heavy over the city.

You’ll see Ann again tomorrow, and then you’ll be making progress again. You’ll be okay. Don’t panic.

But she
was
panicking. Makedde couldn’t remember the last time she felt so down.

By noon she had locked herself away in her apartment and had immersed herself in a textbook—
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
. There was no way she could face the conference, or face anyone at all.

You’ll be okay…you’ll be okay…

She flipped the textbook open to page three hundred and twenty, “Major Depressive Episode”.

When the phone rang, she didn’t move a muscle. Her answering machine picked it up.

“Hi, Mak.”
It was Jaqui.
“I just got your message. Are you okay? You sounded a little down. I’m worried about you. Call me.”

I’m worried about me, too.

Not long after, the phone rang again, and Mak thought fleetingly of answering it. It’d be Jaqui again.

Her machine got it.

“Makedde, it’s Roy. Pick up the phone.”

Oh no…

“Pick up the phone…”

She didn’t move.

“Pick up the phone, Mak. Pick up the phone, pick up the phone…”

The sound of his voice made her feel cold and she shivered.

Makedde listened to the background noises, the sounds of the wind and the rain. He was clearly calling from outside somewhere. He was calling from his mobile phone, from somewhere rainy and wet, and windy.

Her eyes went to the window, to the trees swaying in the wind.

My God. What if he’s outside?

She jumped up and checked that the door was locked, pulled the security chain and went around
closing the curtains in every room. With trembling hands she peeked through a crack in the curtain fabric of the main window and scanned the street outside. No sign of him.

I’m going crazy. I can’t take this any more.

Breathing hard, she opened the cupboard in the bathroom. Her heart was pounding and so was her head. She pulled out a box of medicines she never used.

There it is.

Makedde popped a small pill out of a foil wrap, and snapped it in half. She slugged it back with a mouthful of tap water. Within ten minutes she felt the drowsiness hit.

It was barely one in the afternoon when Makedde crawled into bed and fell into a deep drug-induced sleep.