Authors: Lucas T. Harmond
There was a brief pause. “You sure? We’re not supposed to abandon our posts?”
“Yeah, but needs must when the devil drives, right? Anyhow I want you to come ’round and watch the front. And the house you’re watching out for is the one with the green door and ivy. you can see it easily from the car. Okay?”
“Yeah okay. I’m on my way.”
PICKING UP THE TRAIL
WITH THE THIRD KICK whatever lock was holding shut the door shattered and Nickoloi was in. He found himself in a large space with white brick walls and dirty windows which let in little light. Above him glowed the intense glare of strip-lighting. Apart from a series of paintings, the room appeared to be empty.
Nickoloi sniffed the air and then allowed the room’s stored energy to flow through him. Fragmented sounds and visions flooded his mind. Echoes recorded by brick and wood. His quarry had been here and for one second they looked through each other’s eyes. He saw a painting writhing in pain, and in turn Josh had seen the crucified man who had stood before Nickoloi. He smiled.
Zackeriah had entered the boy’s mind, searching along corridors and pathways until the signal had become clear. Once there he’d manipulated his limbs like a toy, slashed out at his friends and nearly succeeded.
Nearly
but not quite. Still his failure was not complete. With the drug still in his veins the boy’s mind had been like an open book. Names, fears, visions had all been his.
A Casendrull he was not
. Then had come the name of something other than human,
Carthy
. His reason for being involved, a girl possessed. A girl he loved. How he and his friends had met with their acquired meat puppets. But all of these fragments were useless without a location and this Zackeriah had not been able to find. For hours he had meditated, his mind linked to the boy, Josh, but it was clear the boy himself didn’t know where he was. Instead he had glimpsed an address that meant something to him, a place where he had unknowingly encountered Malok. And this place had felt right. He could see the pathways expand from it. The sights and visions of the area had filled his mind.
Zackeriah had seen clearly the night on which Malok had met Harper. Seen flashes from Josh’s fledgling mind,
a figure stalking some distance behind.
No, Josh it seemed was no Casendrull, as Malok had said, no, just a human who’s powers had been partially awakened first by their presence and then by their product.
But Carthy
? The question hung steadily in all their minds.
Who was this Carthy
? And
what
?? His methods far too erratic for Casendrull— yet clearly not human. Carthy. The true threat to their scheme, having already executed Malok;
but where was he
? To get to him it seemed they would have to go through the children.
And this was how Nickoloi had come to be standing in Josh’s art studio and as he stood there revolted by all the recorded sensation, he, on impulse, approached a nearby table. Amongst the empty coffee cups and jars full of dirty water and brushes was a discarded letter. And there at its top, neatly printed beneath a coffee ring, was the address he was looking for.
INFO
“DRUGS?” SAID CALLUM. “You’re asking me about drugs?”
“Yeah, I’ve got some new information.”
“Not really my field...”
“Yeah, but you can ask about them, right?”
There was a pause. “I don’t know, the suits at the office are making me pretty edgy.”
“Yeah I know, they’ve been to see me. Slapped my wrist and told me to keep my nose out in so many words.”
“Jesus, do they know about me?”
“Not from me they don’t, and my guess is, that
if
they did, you would as well!”
There was a longer pause this time. “Listen,” said Callum. “You’re my mate Ian, and you’ve done a lot for me in the past, but I don’t know about this... The Station is pretty much in lockdown. The suits are asking a lot of questions and they’re looking into everything, all sorts. Missing persons, murders, Narcotics, the lot.”
“Narcotics!?” snapped Ian. “But don’t you see that proves it?”
In his office Callum paused and nervously watched as one of the suited men walked past his desk. When he spoke again it was hushed.
“Look mate, I’m not saying it doesn’t but I’m getting nervous.”
“Callum, I just need some info, I’m out of the loop. Look, have you heard anything about a drug called Blue?”
“Yeah. There’s a bit of a buzz about it on the street. LSD, I think, but no one seems to know who’s pushing it. What’s it got to do with your case?”
Ian hesitated as his neighbour John walked into the hallway carrying a hot cup of tea.
“Hang on Callum,” he said and took the receiver from his ear. “Cheers again John, just put it down on the stairs.”
The elderly man nodded and moved away with out saying another word.
Ian was about to speak again when a dark notion suddenly took him.
“Callum, it just occurred to me there’s a very good chance they’re monitoring your calls there.”
“It
had
occurred to me. Do you want to phone back on another line?”
Ian thought for a long time. “No, the longer we wait the more chance they’ll have set something up. Shit your pants and dive in right?”
There was a long pause from Callum. “I’m not sure about this Ian. Maybe you’re in too deep? Maybe you should walk away from this one? Call it SNAFU?”
“For reasons I can’t explain, I can’t. Look I’m in this do or die, can you tell me anything about Blue? Anything about drugs in general?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, anything! Anything big that’s happening, any names connected to Blue. Anything!”
Callum thought for a few seconds. “ A number of Gareth Heath’s boys have been found dead. Either real cut up or with what were apparently self-inflicted wounds. By all accounts it looked like the start of a drug war but no one seemed to step up to fill the gap. Then it all went quiet again.”
“Does this have anything to do with Blue?”
“I wouldn’t know. you said anything. Heath’s deep into drugs though. Him and Sonny Black pretty much have the city divided up between them. If someone’s pushing something new it seems reasonable to assume him or Sonny would know about it...”
Ian interrupted “
Or would want a piece
, right?”
Callum nodded. “Yeah but that doesn’t figure. If that was the case it wouldn’t have been Heath’s boys we’d have found.”
In Ian’s mind a scenario was rapidly developing. “Unless he went up against someone he couldn’t handle.”
“Seems unlikely. Besides Heath’s gone quiet. He’s not on the warpath. Narc’s got it figured it was him who had his own people done, some kind of internal dispute, taking a larger cut then they should or some such nonsense.”
Ian spoke to himself. “Maybe,” he paused to take a sip of tea and then spoke again. “I’m thinking maybe it isn’t Heath who’s running his own organisation, not anymore.”
“What?! Heath wouldn’t sit quiet while someone else was taking over his firm.”
“He would if he didn’t have the choice. If he was being controlled.”
“Controlled!? By who? Ian what are you talking about?”
Ian was silent for a second, numerous scenarios forming in his mind. “I can’t explain. Not over the phone at least. Tell me, what fronts is he operating?”
“A number of night clubs, restaurants. He’s got fingers in launderettes, all sorts.” He paused. “On the surface he’s nothing other than a shrewd business man.”
“Nah, that’s not it.”
“What do you mean ‘
that’s not it
?’ That’s
what
he runs!”
Ian was frustrated. “Something else,” he said.
There was a long silence.
“Callum?”
“I’m thinking. I think he’s still got a warehouse he rents space in over Hershaw Green, is that what you’re looking for?”
“Christ,” said Ian. He felt like his head was going to explode. “Christ, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m just so fucking tired.”
“Ian, you should walk away from this, enjoy your leave.”
Ian spoke sharply. “I can’t! Leave it at that! Look, Callum can you just send a list of Heath’s properties to my house, fax them.”
“Oh Jesus I don’t know...”
“Callum, please...”
Over the phone Ian heard Callum sigh. “Shit, okay. I’ll wait till a few of the suits have cleared off though. It could be quite a lot later.”
“That’s fine lad. Look I really appreciate this.”
“Look, just remember you owe me,” said Callum, and hung up.
SPIDER IN THE WEB
NICKOLOI PAUSED, STANDING TALL and lanky, looking up at the dirty-white building. A mass of white concrete slabs and rows of darkened windows, behind which figures rushed along.
He’d asked for directions and this was the place.
He watched the students spill down the steps with cold disdain.
He counted to eight and then made his way up the steps towards the main building.
He violently flung open the glass doors of the building, receiving a look of anger from a plump girl with dyed braids. He considered killing her and then remembered Zackeriah’s warning to him. He looked forward to the time when he could separate from his self-appointed leader. There would be no such considerations then. No, then he would stand as the God he was.
He moved to the reception desk. The lady there smiled at him but when she was met with the coldness of his glare her smile quickly faded.
“C-can I help you?” she asked nervously.
“The Dean?” he hissed and without waiting for a reply turned his back on her and made for the lift. In a millisecond her untrained mind, opened merely by the suggestion of the word ‘Dean’ had told him the location of his office. The thought of talking to this quivering lump of meat again disgusted him.
As the doors of the lift opened, he saw the features of its occupants become uncomfortable.
Although humans remained unaware of the presence of his kind, at some animal level they could still sense the difference. This was why Malok, Zackeriah and he had opted to use meat puppets in the first place. First the shambling Harper and later a few days re-conditioning the crew which had foolishly attempted to take over their operation.
“To move amongst them openly,” Zackeriah had said, “would be dangerous.”
He, himself, regarded them as little more than cattle.
Nickoloi smiled coldly and pushed his way into the lift. Its human occupants shifted aside to avoid touching him.
A few minutes later he found himself in front of the university Dean’s office.
‘knock, knock,’ he thought.
“Come in,” came the muffled reply.
He opened the door smiling coldly. The Dean was looking at the door with a confused expression.
“
Did you knock
? The strangest thing... I just got the feeling someone was there and before I could...”
“
Shut up
,” Nickoloi said.
This stunned the man into silence and he sat there looking flummoxed.
Clearly showing no regard for his presence, Nickoloi pulled out a chair and seated himself. He sat for a moment in silence staring at the red-faced, overweight man who sat before him.
The Dean, feeling both uncomfortable and also something he couldn’t clearly identify, spoke once more. “Sorry, can I help you in some way?”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Not the police again!” He paused and then quietly to himself said. “No, not the police.”
Nickoloi mimicked him. “No, not the police.” He pushed a thought into the Dean’s head.
“You’re looking for Josh Holt?? Whatever has he got himself into? First the police and then—sorry, who did you say you were?”
Nickoloi shook his head sadly. “
Shut up
,” he said calmly after a pause. He was enjoying the game.
The Dean spoke quickly and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Sorry,” he said and there was a look of terror in his old eyes.
“I need an address for this boy Josh and any friends he may have. And parents.” He sighed. This encounter had already become tiresome.
The Dean fidgeted awkwardly. “I can’t just give out address. Not to just anyone.”
“
You can
,” Nickoloi told him.
“I can?” asked the Dean bewildered.
“You can,” Nickoloi confirmed coldly.
There was a pause. “Er, okay I’ll just have Jane run you off some copies.”
“No,” said Nickoloi. “The original files will do.”
“But,” said the Dean and then said no more as Nickoloi had jammed his central nervous system. He made the man rise abruptly to his feet and moved him towards a set of filing cabinets. As he approached, the lock clicked open and without being touched the drawer slid quickly open. Automatically the Dean began to sort out the files needed. His face was contorted under both immense strain and confusion.
After a few minutes he had all the files Nickoloi had instructed him to retrieve.
Cooly, Nickoloi held out his hand and the Dean placed a collection of manila folders into it. Without saying another word, Nickoloi rose to his feet and walked to the door.
“What just happened?” asked the Dean.
Nickoloi just looked at him icily. “
Sit down
,” he said and as the man fell rapidly into his chair, he exited the office and made his way to the lift.
STATIC
JOSH SAT BESIDE SARAH, holding her hand. Its coldness disturbed him. The sun had long since set. An ocean of smog choked golds and oranges melting above the grey concrete. Then the darkness had crept in, announcing it’s arrival with the lighting of street-lamps and tower blocks.
Keeping his head low, he crept to the window. From the total darkness of the room he peered out. Below in the street sat the dormant car, a cigarette burning somewhere inside.
Josh shook his head and cursed to himself. The house was still being watched. Sarah was still unconscious. And still they had no leads.
Across the landing, Rufus, Karen and Ian stood in a darkened room while a fax machine noisily printed out a sheet of addresses. Feeling useless, Josh let go of Sarah’s hand which fell lifelessly to her side and went to join them. “Is this going to help?” he asked as he entered the room. “If we can’t even get out of the house?” Ian looked at him with disdain. “And what do you suggest lad?” Josh fell silent. “Man this is bullshit,” mumbled Rufus. “Shut up Rufus,” Karen said quietly. She looked at Ian. “What makes you think this has anything to do with the drug?” “This man, Heath, he’s deep into drugs...”