The Border Part Four (4 page)

Suddenly a hand was placed tight across her face from behind, and a second hand grabbed her waist and pulled her back, struggling, through a nearby door.

Trying to get free as she was dragged into a dimly-lit room, Hayley realized she could smell something foul on the man’s hand, like some kind of engine grease. She tried to cry out, but the hand over her face was far too firm, and a moment later she felt a sudden sharp pain slicing through her lower back, running deep into her body. She froze, realizing that something was twisting through her flesh, but the only sound she could hear – apart from rain falling on a tin roof high above – was the heavy breathing of whoever was behind her, coupled with fabric rubbing against her shirt.

The rain was getting stronger now, tip-tapping all over the roof.

Please be a joke
, she thought, even though the pain was building.
Please be Scott or Sean or someone pulling a prank. I’ll kill them for this!

A moment later, the sharp pain moved to the other side of her back. She continued to struggle as she felt something warm running down her flesh, and she began to panic as she realized that it was blood. Still desperately trying to cry out, she stared ahead with wide-eyed horror at the open door just a few feet away, with rain falling more steadily now in the alley. She tried to open her mouth enough to bite her assailant’s hand, and when that didn’t work she tried instead to elbow him in the belly, but she was already finding it difficult to summon the necessary strength. Her legs were starting to buckle and as she continued to wriggle, she tilted her head back and felt hot, heavy breaths against her ear and the side of her neck.

“Please,” she tried to say, but the hand over her mouth was too strong.

In the distance, a car horn sounded.

Forced forward suddenly, Hayley was slammed face-first against the wall. She felt her teeth hitting the concrete, and a sharp piece of enamel fell to the back of her throat. As she felt the man pressing against her from behind, she told herself that he might not be planning to kill her, and she found herself praying that he just wanted to hurt her, maybe use her a little, and then he’d let her go. With tears running from her eyes, she hoped against hope that he’d hitch up her skirt and just do what he wanted, but as each second passed she realized that it wasn’t going to be so easy. She tried again to cry out, but he was holding her face with such force, she was worried her jaw was going to get dislocated. Wriggling slightly, she felt her face being pressed against the rough wooden door jamb, and she felt a cold breeze blowing in from outside, bringing a fine sprinkling of rain.

She began to sob as her mouth filled with blood.

Her nose was broken.

High above, there was a faint rumble of thunder.

Suddenly, she was pulled back and thrown hard against the floor. She let out a gasp, but the hand was quickly clamped back over her mouth and she felt her attacker straddling her, using his weight to hold her down. She reached out, her fingernails scratching against the dusty concrete, but she still couldn’t scream. The man pressed down hard on her back and then grabbed her by the waist, twisting her around until she was able to see his silhouette above her, partially framed against the wide open door and against the rain-filled alley beyond. He pushed her down hard, banging the back of her head onto the floor before pressing his knees against her belly to hold her in place.

Another car horn in the distance.

Barely able to breathe, she snorted blood out through her nose.

The rain was really crashing down now.

Staring up at her attacker, Hayley caught a glimpse of something metal flashing in the low light. A moment later, she felt a sharp pain in her chest, just at the edge of her left breast, and she tried again to cry out as she realized he was cutting into her. With the man’s hand still clamped firmly over her mouth, she tilted her head back and squeezed her eyes tight shut, barely able to breathe as her entire body tensed. Blood ran from her mouth and nose, over her eyes and to her hairline. As each second passed, she felt the blade slicing through her flesh a little further, going under the breast before being pulled out. Struggling to breathe through her nose as tears rolled from her eyes, she felt his fingertips slipping into the wound, as if he was pulling the damaged flesh aside, and then she realized she could feel him touching her ribs, pulling on them hard. She tried to scream, but her mouth was still held too tight, and she tried to kick out but she was feeling too weak from the blood loss.

Her whole body was rigid and shaking with fear and shock.

And then her phone started ringing.

For a few seconds, she tried desperately to reach down to her pocket, before she felt him pulling the phone out and tossing it away. She tried yet again to scream, but suddenly he slammed down hard against her chest with something and she felt a cracking sensation, as if her ribs were being broken. She wriggled again, desperately trying to get free as she felt warm blood dribbling down her side, and then she realized he was pulling on her ribs, as if he was trying to break them. Her phone was still ringing as she began to try to force him back, using all her remaining strength to get free so she could scream or run, but instead he pushed her down more firmly and finally he felt a snapping sensation in her chest, followed by another. She was sobbing now, filled with rage and fear as her attacker’s fingers reached past her ribs. When he felt him getting deeper inside and realized he was approaching her heart, she let out a wild, muffled moan. Realizing that her left leg was partially free, she tried to kick out, but all she succeeded in doing was scraping her foot against the concrete floor and knocking her shoe off.

Finally, her phone stopped ringing.

Sobbing desperately, she felt fingers wriggling deeper inside her chest, brushing against the edge of her pounding heart. She tried to call out again, with her eyes still squeezed shut, even as she heard her phone beep to indicate that a voice-mail message had been left. A moment later, she felt something scraping against her broken ribs, followed by a sensation of sharpness deep in her chest. Everything was strangely still and calm, as if she was suspended in a moment of terrified anticipation, waiting for him to do whatever he was going to do. She opened her eyes and looked toward the open door, seeing freedom just a few feet away and feeling a cold breeze against her face. The tears had stopped falling from her eyes now, and she tilted her head back a little, to get the breeze more fully against her eyes.

Please God
, she thought to herself,
if you let me live, I’ll never doubt you again
.

Thunder rumbled again.

Then silence.

Please God…

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest, and the thumping sound of her own heartbeat exploded in her ears for a fraction of a second. Her whole body tensed and jerked, and she gasped as she felt the hand lifting up from her face. She tried to cry out, but she could no longer find the breath. There was a strange dripping sensation in her chest, and a kind of warmth as if she was filling up, and she felt blood flooding into the back of her throat until it erupted from her mouth, spilling out and running down her chin and the side of her face. She tilted her head back a little further, still feeling the breeze on her face, but she knew now that there was nothing else she could do to fight back. The last sound she heard was a kind of thick, heavy dripping against the nearby concrete floor, and the last thing she saw was rain pouring down outside as finally, slowly, she let out a faint click from the back of her bloodied throat. After a moment, as she stared at the rain, she realized another type of rain was falling closer to her face, splattering against the concrete.

Blood.

The breeze picked up for a moment, blowing against her face, but it was too late for her to feel anything. Her dead eyes stared at the door, unblinking as the breeze ruffled her hair.

Above her, a dirty, blood-stained hand held her still-warm heart, letting blood drip down onto the floor.

***

“Fine, bitch,” Katie muttered, tossing her phone onto her bed. “
Don’t
pick up.”

III

“Yeah, I remember him,” the woman said as she took the phone from Jack’s hands for a moment. She squinted a little as she stared at the photo. “He stayed here for a few nights last week. Nice guy. Friendly, but kept himself to himself most of the time.”

“You’re certain?” Jack replied, standing in the lobby of the Hermitage House hostel, way out on the southern edge of town. “His name is Ben Freeman.”

“Yeah, Ben.” She passed the phone back to him. “Why, are you a cop? Did he do something wrong?”

“No,” Jack said, forcing a smile as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, “I’m not a cop, I just…” He paused, imagining his brother walking through the lobby. “Thank you,” he said finally. “You’ve been really helpful.”

***

“I don’t want people thinking I’m weird,” Alex said, as he cut open the package that had just arrived for him at the police station, “so I was thinking I could shave my head bald and then start wearing an aluminum-lined wig.”

Reaching into the package, he pulled out a ball of hair that was vaguely similar to his own in terms of both color and style, although the resemblance didn’t improve much as he tried to neaten it out. Turning it around, he pulled the edge up to reveal the aluminum lining.

“Clever, huh?”

Watching him from her chair, Jane seemed genuinely lost for words.

“I bought it online, of course,” Alex continued, getting to his feet and grabbing a comb from among his pot of pens. “Made in China, from real hair that they, I don’t know, harvest from orphans or something. It grows back for them, so what’s the problem? Nice was for them to make a little money. Now that’s what I call a globalized economy. It’s a miracle, really.” He made his way past his desk, heading to the far end of the office. “I’ll be in the bathroom. Gotta try this baby on. If it looks good, I’ll get the clippers out tonight.”

Jane watched in stunned silence as Alex headed through the door, and then she sat in silence for a moment.

“What the hell?” she said out loud, finally. “What the actual -”

“There’s been another one,” a voice said suddenly.

Turning, she saw Caitlin Somers standing over by the window, her usual smile replaced by an intense stare.

“What do you mean?” Jane asked.

“What do you
think
I mean? I warned you, I told you to get this thing resolved before it was too late, and now…” The dead girl paused. “It’s not too late, exactly, but there’s been another murder. The body hasn’t been found yet, but it’s out there.”

“How do you know?” Jane replied, getting to her feet and heading to the window.

“How do
you
know, you mean,” Caitlin continued, keeping her eyes fixed on Jane. “After all, if I’m just an extension of your consciousness, then I’m merely vocalizing a realization that has occurred to you. We agreed that’s how it works, didn’t we?”

“But I don’t know that there’s been another murder,” Jane pointed out, using two fingers to part the blinds for a moment as she peered out at the town square. Rain had begun to fall, and there’d been a few rumbles of thunder a few minutes earlier. “Everything seems calm.”

“I told you, the body hasn’t been found yet.”

“Then how do you know? I mean, how do
I
know? I mean…”

“Confusing, isn’t it?”

“We’ve still got time,” Jane continued. “I know we do. If there’d been another murder, we’d know by now.”

“Not if the body’s out of sight,” Caitlin replied. “For example, in an old warehouse somewhere, or an abandoned building. There are plenty of places it could be.”

“So why don’t you give me a clue?”

“I don’t have any clues to give,” Caitlin continued. “Not unless I’m actually a ghost after all, in which case I guess I might know a few things.” She turned to look out at the town square. “But you don’t really think that’s possible, do you?”

Jane stared at her for a moment. “No,” she said finally, “of course it’s not possible. Ghosts don’t exist.”

“So I’m just you,” Caitlin added, with a faint smile. “All your subconscious thoughts, all your brain’s desperate attempts to make sense of the chaos… It all comes out through me.” She paused. “Your husband noticed earlier, didn’t he?”

“Noticed what?”

“The way you keep hiding your body from him.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, and he’s onto you. He might not be the sharpest tool in the box, but he’d creeping closer, inch by inch. What’s wrong, are you suddenly self-conscious about that little scar?”

Jane shook her head.

“What if I
am
a ghost?” Caitlin continued, staring at her. “What if Caitlin Somers died and came back to haunt this town, why would she choose to appear to some people and not to others?”

“I don’t -”

“Play along with me for a moment,” she added, interrupting her. “How would I pick the people I speak to?” She looked at Jane’s shoulder for a moment. “It’s such a small scar, barely noticeable at all, no wonder Jack hasn’t ever spotted it. I guess you never had one of those moments where he idly contemplated your bare flesh, huh? That’s good. You don’t want him poking too much into your past, do you? Anyway, if he
did
ask about the scar, would you tell him the truth?”

“There’s no need to tell him about that,” Jane replied, swallowing hard.

“Isn’t there?”

“No.”

“But is there any need to keep it from him?”

She paused. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“So this ghost,” Caitlin continued, as her smile grew, “if that’s what I am… Maybe I came back to get justice, and maybe, just maybe, I’m only appearing to the people who feel a degree of guilt over my death.” She paused. “Do you feel guilty, Jane?”

“Why should I feel guilty?” Jane asked, turning to her. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Your old life. When you were a Border girl.”

Jane flinched. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not really. A decade or so. Blink of an eye, really.”

“I only worked there for six months,” Jane replied, keeping her voice low in case Alex came back suddenly.

“And how many levels down did you go?”

“What do you think?” Alex called out suddenly, emerging from the bathroom.

Turning, Jane saw that he had the new wig balanced on his head. It looked like a Tribble had fallen on him from a great height.

“Obviously it doesn’t look quite right at the moment,” he continued, “since it’s having to go over my real hair, but if you imagine it fitting snugly, I figure it’ll look absolutely natural. More importantly, the aluminum lining will shield my brain from all those internet signals, so I’ll be able to focus more effectively. I’ll get the clippers out tonight, and tomorrow you’ll never be able to tell that anything’s changed.” Heading over to his desk, he carefully removed the wig and set it back down in its box. “You should think about getting one of these too,” he told her. “I reckon you could pull it off, no sweat.”

Turning back to Caitlin, Jane saw that the dead girl was gone.

“I might even do it when Ruth’s out,” Alex added, “and then see if she notices anything when she gets home. To be honest, I think she might not, it’s that good of a wig.”

“Sure,” Jane replied, turning to look back out at the town square. Everything looked so peaceful as the rain fell, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Caitlin had been right, that maybe there was another body out there, waiting to be discovered, in which case she couldn’t understand how her subconscious mind had made the realization. What had she seen, and why hadn’t it registered properly? “It looks great,” she whispered. “Really great.”

***

“So did you speak to Dad yet?”

“Jesus!” Jack said, turning to see that Ben had appeared as if from nowhere, following him along the sidewalk. “Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“Sorry,” Ben replied, “I just saw you walking past and I figured I’d come and see how things are going. I was going to call later and see if you fancy getting a beer, but I’ve had such a busy morning so far. I had to get some prescriptions filled, pop in to see a few people. Oh, and I murdered another girl.”

Sighing, Jack stopped and turned to face him.

“You wanna hear about it?” Ben asked with a smile. “I cut her heart right out of her chest, just like all the others. Once you’ve done one, you’ve done a million, it’s as easy as pie.”

“Stop.”

“She was pretty, too. Shame about that. It’s always the pretty ones who get my engine revving.”

“Ben, just stop.”

“Why? Don’t you wanna hear about my day?”

“Do you think this is funny?”

“Winding you up?” Ben laughed. “Yeah, brother, I do. I think winding you up is hilarious. I’ve been doing it all my life, on and off, and I just like pushing your buttons.”

“It’s not a laughing matter,” Jack continued. “It’s less than a week since Mel Armitage died, and you’re making goddamn jokes about it? Seriously? Check yourself, man!”

“No,” Ben replied, “I’m not making jokes about the dead girl, I’m making jokes about you and your ridiculous suspicions. There’s a difference.”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“Really? I’d have thought a newspaper man would be more alert to the nuances of language, but -”

“What do you want, Ben?” Jack asked, interrupting him. “I know how this works. You roll up, you make crappy jokes, and then finally you get around to whatever reason you’re actually bugging me, so let’s just cut to the chase. In case you didn’t realize, some of us are actually busy. We have jobs, we don’t spend all our time in other people’s spare rooms!”

“Brother -”

“What do you
want
?”

Ben sighed. “I want to make peace. With you, I mean. I went and saw Dad and it went really badly, as you might expect, and I realized that I can only handle one war at a time.” He paused, waiting for Jack to say something. “So I was thinking, do you want to just get a beer and talk? You’re right, I make jokes too often, it’s dumb,
I’m
dumb sometimes. I’m fully aware that I’m the main cause of the problems between us, so why don’t we try to sort things out? I’ve been having a good time with Beth lately, and I feel maybe you and I could be the same if we just straighten the facts out and set them on the table.”

“You want us to talk about facts?” Jack replied incredulously.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you start that conversation by joking about murdering someone?”

“How do you know it was a joke?” Ben asked, his tone filled with seriousness for a moment, before finally he broke into a faint smile. “Sorry, there I go again, it’s like a nervous tic, I really need to learn to just answer questions honestly.” He paused for a moment. “So how about it? Just you and me, a few beers, down at the Monument at, say, eight tonight? No jokes, I promise. From either of us. We’ll just get to know one another again, the way it’s supposed to be between brothers.” He waited for an answer. “Please, Jack.”

“Ben…”

“Plus, we need to talk about Beth. She’s cracking up.”

“Beth? Beth’s fine.”

Ben shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Jack said firmly.

“She’s not fine. Christ, are you paying attention at all? Something’s wrong, something deep down, but it’s gonna come to the surface eventually. I’m worried about our sister.”

“Beth’s the most okay out of all of us.”

“That’s not saying much,” Ben replied. “It’s not true, either. I’m telling you, something bad is coming with her, I can feel it.”

Jack stared at him for a few seconds, as if he genuinely couldn’t decide how to answer.

“Maybe,” he said finally. “The Monument at eight. I can’t promise, I’ve got a lot on at work and I’m supposed to be looking after the kids, but I’ll try to meet you.”

“Looking forward to it, brother,” Ben replied, taking a step back. “I think this is going to be the start of a whole new chapter. Honestly, I think we’re going to start putting everything back together. And I get that you might not believe I’m sincere, but all I ask is for a chance to prove myself. Just a chance, nothing more.”

“Sure,” Jack muttered, watching as Ben turned and headed away. For a moment, he stood and watched his brother, before finally checking his phone and then walking back across the town square, making his way to the office.

“Nice chat?” Mac asked as soon as Jack walked through the door.

“Uh, yeah,” Jack replied, heading to his desk. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t like him,” Mac continued.

Jack turned to him.

“Your brother, I mean. Ben. I don’t like him, there’s just… I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s the kind of guy who’s clearly up to no good. I know I might be out of place, Jack, but tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

Jack paused for a moment. “I feel the same way,” he said finally. “You’re right, Ben’s… off, somehow. I’ve always known it. Everyone in my family has always known it.”