Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (3 page)

At the Westfield Horton Plaza Shopping Mall in downtown San Diego, Emily Marshall glared at the cash out teller, her voice low to avoid the two children in her care overhearing, ‘What do you mean the card is declined? This is a joint account…my husband is abroad on business…’

The young male Polynesian sales assistant raised his hand, ‘I am sorry Ma’am, but the credit card company seems to have declined your transaction, have you any other payment method available?’ He indicated to the take away pizza boxes, ‘You will need to pay for these now as we have cooked them for you…’ The late-morning sun streamed through the windows of the front of the mall, the children looking forward to an afternoon film at their mother’s sister’s apartment.

Emily glanced around, the middle aged lady behind glaring at her and folding her arms in frustration, the children moving to chat intently to some other youngsters just outside the Pizzeria’s polished doors. Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head in exasperation and embarrassment, reaching into her bag for her black purse as she searched for some money, her cheeks flushing bright scarlet, ‘I-I am sorry…he has been away for some time due to the troubles, he must have forgotten to transfer the money…’ Nausea filled her stomach, her shoulders shaking as the thoughts of the recent funeral filled her mind as she glanced back cautiously at the eight and ten year olds once more, her sister’s children spending the weekend with her.

The assistant raised his eyes in impatience, lowering his palm onto the top on the warm cardboard square boxes and slowly drawing them across the counter towards him, ‘No money…no pizza Ma’am, I am sorry…’

Emily swept a strand of blonde hair from her face, tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she fumbled in her bag, searching for the dollars she knew did not exist. The stern female voice from behind startled her, her hand shaking as the handbag dropped to the floor, ‘That’s ok lady…I will get these…’

Emily spun round, the middle aged woman lowering her hands from her chest and smiling briefly as she stepped forward, her hand rising to the young woman’s face, a brief whisper, ‘What happened…don’t cry now…the children will see.’ The lady thrust two notes into her shaking hands, Emily turning in confusion as the lady rubbed her back reassuringly, the assistant smiling as he took the money from her trembling fingers. The middle aged lady behind leant forward, retrieving the handbag and shopping bags from the black polished tiles, ‘I am Katherine…let’s get your Pizzas and children and we will get you to your car…’

She patted Emily’s arm comfortingly as she turned, the change lying on the top of the warm boxes as the assistant beckoned the next patron forward. He nodded a disinterested farewell, ‘Have a nice day ladies…’

The glass and silver doors to the Pizzeria swung open, Katherine beckoning Emily outside as the children turned to stare at her, their faces lighting up as they saw the pizza boxes. Emily stepped forward forcing a smile, ‘Did you not want some Pizza?’

The middle aged lady smiled warmly in reassurance, ‘Let’s get you to your car first…or would you like a coffee, calm yourself down then tell me all about it is you wish…’ Her voice tailed off as the children two young children looked up at her, her expression turning to a warm smile, ‘They are very sweet…’ Shoppers walked past, most chatting excitedly as they entered the mall, their anticipation rising of the bargains in the numerous sales. Katherine smirked as the small girl pointed to her with small fingers, a wide welcoming smile spreading across the youngster’s face. Then she froze, her eyes opening wide as the distant rumble swept across the area, a low murmur of a siren beginning the rise as Katherine grabbed Emily’s arm, the adults in the mall beginning to look round frantically as the now numerous sirens increased in ferocity, beginning to scream out across the city.

A late breakfast at the exclusive Hilton Hawaiian Village hotel followed by a day long tour of the island. The Jacobs family from Sheffield, England had embarked on the holiday of a lifetime after the National Lottery win three weeks earlier. Flying first class with United Airlines to Los Angeles and then onto the ‘The Aloha State’ or ‘Paradise in the Pacific’ had been something Brian Jacobs had always talked about, advising his long suffering wife of thirteen years that ‘one day’ the numbers would ‘come up’ and that Hawaii was the only place he wanted to take her and their two children to celebrate.

At thirty-eight years old, she had always agreed, wanting the quiet life…a normal existence for them and their children. She had never imagined in her wildest dreams the jackpot would be theirs…his determination to go out in the most miserable of weather to buy their tickets had always made her smile, he was a dreamer and needed that outlet…the thought he may ‘one day’ make their lives better. He had been eventually proven correct, £6.47 million pounds correct to be precise.

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Brian was a loyal and hardworking husband, a steelworker and good at it. He worked long hours at Firth Browns, a steel and silver makers in the city that had once been home to the biggest metal manufacturers in the world. Luxury cutlery and trinkets were now the product of choice, sought by the richest patrons around the globe and sold in the most exclusive retail outlets. Always ready to volunteer for overtime or to prove his loyalty, Brian had even cycled to work to save for family expenditure, much to his plump wife’s dismay with the heavy city traffic.

The lived in a suburb of the city, Millhouses, near a large park. The lines of semi-detached houses would have normally been far beyond their income, but for a financial wedding gift from her father, Brian immediately insisting they used it as a deposit on a house for a family.

She smiled fondly to herself as she watched him cut the rashers of bacon for their son, the sight of her husband’s greying hair and stubble warming her heart as she considered his fondness and love for them…he was a good man. She sliced her eggs with her fork, carefully lifting them to her mouth as she watched him encourage their six-year-old boy to go to the lavish buffet on his own, to get more bacon and eggs for the family.

The young child was sensitive and dyslexic and Brian doted on him, taking him to the park at the bottom of their road every day if he could, playing football with him and even taking him to see Sheffield United, his more favoured team of the two in the city, based at Bramall Lane Football Stadium.

The daughter was more studious and quiet, her mother watching her as she picked at her food, slicing specialist sausages and sniffing them carefully before placing them in her mouth, Brain smiling across the table at his wife as they watched their female offspring’s ‘quirky’, yet uniquely autistic behaviours.

Then he raised his hand, pointing out the shaded windows of the hotel restaurant and into the sun drenched street beyond, nudging his daughter, ‘Look Bianca, doggies with a walker…’

The nine-year-old spun round with excitement, pressing her freckled nose to the glass and staring out into the sunlight as she smiled, seeing the five dogs with the slim female walker, the two pedigree poodles, two Jack Russells and a Pug strutting obediently with the hired help, the owners now at their office desks from their homes in the exclusive neighbourhood.

Brian glanced across lovingly at his wife, chewing on a bacon rasher, ‘When the flights eventually start again and we get back to Britain, shall we move out towards the villages and get some land, several dogs and maybe a goat for the children? What do you say Moira?’

The woman grinned happily, glancing down at her eggs again as emotion filled her chest, ‘Sure…let’s get somewhere nice for the children…a house with a big garden.’ She sniffed happily, ‘Shall we get tutors for them…it would stop the teasing at school?’

Her husband nodded in agreement, the two staring fondly into each other’s eyes for a couple of seconds before they were distracted, the boy returning triumphantly with a large platter full of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, hash browns and a variety of sausages. They smiled as their son grinned widely with confidence, meticulously placing the plate on the edge of the table as he murmured, ‘The chef says I am his favourite customer…’ He shrugged with misunderstanding, ‘He says daddy and mummy have hunger…rest of hotel people have silly diets!’

Bianca turned slowly from the window, staring at the new plate with relish but distrust, her voice low, ‘Doggies gone now…’ She slowly reached for her fork again, beginning to study the sausages on her plate once more.

Brian slowly rose from his seat, indicating to the outside discretely to his wife as the two children began to eat once more. She shook her head, smiling in defeat as he slipped from the table, kissing both children on the head, ‘Daddy is going out to see if he can find the driver for our tour today…’

The boy looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly, ‘Daddy is bad…smoking not good for you!’

Moira giggled as Brian frowned, realising the secret had only been alive in his own imagination as the boy continued, looking out the window in curiosity, ‘Daddy smell bad after cigarette!’

Still giggling, Moira leant forward as Brian retreated, ‘Eat your food James…Daddy will be back soon. He has gone to check on what we will do today…’ The boy looked up, unconvinced, then looked back down at his bacon, his small hand reaching out for the glass of orange juice.

Brian Jacobs walked briskly away from the hotel entrance, feeling the seeming wall of warm humid air across his features as he headed for the smoking area, his mind still attempting to comprehend the more than favourable financial situation they had now found themselves in. Shaking his head and smiling, he withdrew the Marlboro Lights packet from his chinos and placed one in his mouth, slowing as he reached the designated area he could smoke in, beneath some palm trees. He lowered himself onto the low ornate wall, the lighter flicking once as he drew greedily on the cigarette, smiling to himself and nodding a greeting to the only other smoker, an older Japanese businessman.

The smoke drifted upwards into the trees as he stared out over the green-blue clear water in the distance, the golden beach lining the seafront as it stretched away towards the mountains in the distance. His mind wandered to where they could live, considering if they should even move from the midlands with the recent situation, perhaps north to Scotland…maybe even near Loch Ness where his parents had once taken him on holiday as a boy. A beautiful and quiet place for the children…and proposed pets…perhaps he would discretely mention the idea to Moira later when they were on the hired mini-coach. He grinned to himself as he hoped the vehicle had strong air conditioning, the sweat beginning to run down his torso beneath the lavish and colourful island shirt he had treated himself to upon arrival.

He drew on the cigarette again considering what car they should buy…something reserved and conservative, not too flash to protect the children from additional attention. Darkened windows were a must…he stiffened as he heard shouts from the beach below, rising to his feet in suspicion as he heard the urgency in the cries. Staring out over the bay, he was just aware of the Japanese moving next to him, his low voice, ‘What is happening?’ The oriental man staring in surprise as the Englishman tossed his cigarette away and lunged back towards the hotel, sprinting along the manicured paths towards the lavish entrance.

Moira was smiling widely at Bianca, the girl’s eyes studying the two new eggs that had been deposited by her helpful brother onto the plate in front of her. James was watching with interest, his hand ready to add some more bacon as he gradually became impatient, ‘Bianca should eat eggs, Mummy!’

Brian swept into the restaurant breathlessly, gasping as he nodded with concern to his wife, ‘I-I think we will go upstairs to the room for a while…perhaps have a lie down…’

Moira shook her head in confusion, disturbed by her husband’s behaviour, ‘W-what?’

The man was helping their son out of the chair, grasping for his daughter, the sweat dripping from his chin, ‘Come on Bianca…Mummy and Daddy are going upstairs, so you should come too…we will bring some food to eat in front of the television…who wants to watch cartoons?’ He indicated to his wife, his expression firm, ‘Put some food on a plate for later so we can have a snack and let’s get upstairs…’

Moira gasped, shaking her head as she indicated for her daughter to rise, the girl smiling widely as she chewed on another piece of sausage. Brian pulled her gently from the table, pushing the children’s hands together and Moira behind them, ‘Go to the lifts dear…then up to the room…lock the door!’ He glanced down at his son, ‘Daddy will be back in a moment…I am just going to get some more delicious food for later…’

Moira glanced round, seeing guests back nervously through the hotel front doors, their eyes staring out beyond the forecourt as she pushed the children forward nervously. The muffled barks of dogs mixed with distant screams, her body stiffening in fright as she pushed across the pristine marble foyer to the lifts, stabbing electronic button as gasps echoed across reception.

Brian stopped abruptly in front of the heated buffet bar, the chef glancing at his attire and smiling, ‘How may I help you Sir?’

The sweating man before him grasped the large basket of bread, tossing butter and jam capsules into the large wicker container, his voice becoming frantic, ‘A full platter of bacon, sausages and hash browns please…piled high…even a basket if you can…’

The young chef stepped towards the hotplates suspiciously, seeing the patron’s distress, ‘Are you OK Sir? Shall I call the hotel doctor?’

The Englishman looked up, his eyes staring widely, ‘Just do it please...I have a family…as quick as you can. Then I suggest you run…and run fast!’

The young slim Polynesian chef swallowed, looking beyond the sweating customer and seeing the gathering people in the foyer begin to glance around in rising panic, their eyes sporadically staring out of the main doors as collective fear rose, hotel uniformed staff running nervously to the entrance and staring out mesmerised, one attempting to lock the doors. He snatched a large serving spoon, beginning to shovel hash browns and sausages into a large display basket, his voice strained and shaking, ‘Which room are you in Sir if I may ask?’

The man looked up, nodding as he saw the food being virtually thrown into the container, then glancing round nervously towards the entrance, ‘311…it looks over the ocean…why? I don’t care what the extra bill is!’

The voices were rising in the foyer, some of the people moaning and backing away. The chef dropped the spoon in exasperation, the metal implement clattering to the floor as he heaved food with his hands into the basket, his knuckles sweeping across the burning hotplate as he winced, muffled screams from outside spurring him on as his nerves and fear tingled up his spine, ‘It’s not that Sir! I-I will bring some more food up later if I can Sir…’

Outside the hotel main doors, seven dogs ran past freely in terror, their leads extending behind them, the screech of tyres and human screams ringing in their ears as a distant inhuman shriek filled the air from the exclusive beach below. In the distance police sirens began to wail.