=04:05 hrs=
Alex checked the instruments and adjusted his heading. Ten minutes more and he should be off-shore somewhere alongside Military Road. Then it would probably take him a further ten minutes or so to find a secure place to hide his submersible and swim ashore.
I’ll be there in half an hour baby. Just hang on, he promised his daughter.
The journey across the Sound and around to the southern side of the Isle of Wight had gone without a hitch, the Dawn running silently on her batteries. The work he’d done on the rewiring had paid dividends, the new sonar set-up guiding him safely to his destination, and even the seal he’d replaced was holding up.
When Alex finally surfaced it was to a dull rainy day, the small craft tossing about on the surging waves. Even though it was early morning, the low clouds and lashing rain made it so dark that he was concerned about taking the submersible any nearer to the shore for fear of damaging it. He sat thinking for a moment, bracing himself against the swells, wondering how to get ashore.
Then a yellow blinking light caught his attention. It was a large warning buoy about fifty metres to leeward. The coastline here was obviously dangerous with underwater rocks. He’d have to be very careful.
Keeping a sharp eye on the sonar Alex manoeuvred the bobbing craft as near as he could to the buoy. He needed to be quick once he opened the hatch as the heavy seas might flood the small submersible.
Alex punched a few buttons and slipped a hand into the control glove that operated the Dawn’s claw-like appendage attached to one side of the viewing bubble. It took him five attempts before he finally got a grip on one of the buoy’s big anchor points, by which time he was dripping with perspiration.
Locking off the claw Alex donned his wetsuit, took a pair of flippers from a locker, stuffed a pair of deck shoes into his pocket and squeezed himself through the tight opening of the hatch.
As he struggled his way out on to the top of the Dawn, he was met with pounding waves and stinging rain, almost loosing his grip as he fought to dog the hatch closed.
Dropping backwards off the submersible, Alex fell into the sea, turning to orientate himself. He saw it coming too late, just managing to raise a protective shoulder as the Dawn twisted on its claw, crashing into him.
Coughing seawater Alex fought down the panic.
I’m okay! I can do this!
His shoulder felt numb and he was having difficulty moving his right arm, but he kicked out with his flippers, keeping his head above the waves, slowly fighting his way towards shore, wishing he’d used his air-tank, instead of just a face mask.
The morning light was dim, rain shrouding any lights that might have been showing from the houses dotted along the shore. Alex could just make out the dark outline of a hill in the distance and set out towards it at a slow crawl. He was strong but had never attempted a long swim in such dangerous conditions before.
Alex had only swum a short distance when he realised that he might have made a terrible mistake. The clouds had lowered, cutting what little light there was even farther. Behind him just black waves, in front an impenetrable wall of rain.
All sense of direction had suddenly deserted him.
=05:01 hrs=
The wind clipped the tops of the waves into long white frothy streamers that lashed Alex’s face. He was tiring quickly but could see the rocky outline of the shore not far away. Thin fingers of sand stretched out into the sea, like a cupped hand ready to support him.
His knees hit the seabed and he stood, bracing himself against the incoming waves breaking against his back, feeling the exhilaration flood through his body.
He’d made it. He was ashore. As though in celebration of his success the rain eased and a weak sun showed through the clouds.
Spitting salty sea water Alex staggered up the thin sandy spit and flopped down behind a large rock, digging a hole in which he buried his wetsuit and flippers. Then donning the deck shoes he’d bought with him, he made his way across the dunes to Military Road.
The swim had been the hardest physical undertaking that Alex had ever experienced and he felt exhausted. He needed a rest.
Crossing Military Road he found a thick bush and burrowed his way into the middle. The ground was dry and he lay down, hands behind his head, thinking of his daughter and how good it was going to be when he held her in his arms again.
Alex suddenly realised that, since Karen’s death, he’d been distant with Dawn, afraid to get too close in case she was taken from him, as his wife had been. The situation had grown without him really realising it, sort of crept up on him unawares; an emptiness that had its origins in the terrible numbness of Karen’s funeral, a rejection that forced him to lock away his feelings. Perhaps it was time to open that particular door again and examine what lay hidden behind it.
Being physically separated from Dawn this way had shaken Alex from his self-cantered behaviour, made him realise that he had to change, make up for the loneliness he’d caused his daughter. Rejection could be a terrible thing to bear. Alex knew this first hand, from the way he had felt after Karen had left him to raise their daughter on his own.
And maybe he should start dating again, perhaps find a mother for Dawn. That thought brought a tight smile to Alex’s lips and he wondered if he’d even know how to go about dating after all these years.
Alex felt his eyes grow heavy and closed them, telling himself that he’d just have a short rest, then get back to finding Dawn. The swim had really taken it out of him. His muscles ached as if he’d run a marathon. His last thought before slipping into a deep sleep was whether or not he should use the internet to meet someone, or try speed-dating.
As Alex slept, a dark shadow made its way through the damp grass and across Military Road, its sensitive nose close to the ground, following the scent trail. It moved nearer to where Alex was sleeping, its curiosity aroused. Something was hiding here. Excitement rose in the animal and it pushed its head further under the bush, moving stealthily so as not to frighten whatever was there.
=05:43 hrs=
Dawn and Sheena had sat at Terry’s side all through the long night waiting for him to die but he’d hung on, moaning softly now and then, eyes moving beneath blackened lids as though he was dreaming.
Sheena had finished a quarter bottle of whisky and Dawn was swimming in coke. Neither of them had eaten. Apart from a helicopter flying low overhead about half an hour before - which had revived their hopes for a short period - there had been no sounds from outside.
The room was dark, except for the red glow of the morning sun reflecting from the high clouds. Outside the chorus of birds had died down and a thick silence lay over the room - just the odd creak of expanding wood as the structure of the house warmed up.
Dawn was sitting in a half-daze, thinking about her dad when someone spoke. “Huh? What did you say?”
Sheena sat upright, hands on her knees, staring at Terry open mouthed.
“I . . . tried . . .” The skin around Terry’s mouth split as he spoke.
“He’s trying to say something,” Sheena said jumping out of her chair.
Kneeling beside Terry, Sheena leant close to his ear, ignoring the smell. “Can you hear me Terry?”
The voice was almost inaudible, disjointed, as though each word was uttered with great pain. “The pilot . . . tried to save him . . . but the cat . . . too late.” After a long pause, during which they thought he’d passed out again, he continued, “The car is in the wood . . . wood . . .”
Sheena felt tears stinging her eyes and wanted nothing more than to hold the dying man in her arms to ease his pain, but knew that was impossible. “Hush now Terry. Do you want a drink of water?”
“The car . . . take a knife . . . cut the lead . . . the lead to . . .” Terry gave a shudder and his head rolled to one side.
Dawn could see the rawness of his tongue protruding from his mouth and swallowed hard. “Is he dead?” she asked.
Sheena shook her head and sat back on her heels. “No, he’s passed out again. I wish there was something we could do.”
“What do you think he meant about the car?”
“I don’t know.”
Dawn thought for a moment. “He said the car was in the wood. Do you think we could get it and take him to a hospital?”
Without realising it Dawn was already replacing ‘Terry’ with ‘him’ in her mind, making it easier to deal with the situation.
Sheena stood up, easing the muscles in her back. She looked weary and pale, not the vibrant woman Dawn had first met such a short time ago.
“Perhaps . . .”
Sheena’s words were cut short by the noise of the French doors crashing open. A man in camouflaged fatigues stood in the doorway, his swarthy face glinting with a light sheen of sweat, his hard gaze locked on Terry, along with the gun he carried.
“Thank goodness,” Sheena said. “We need to get him to a hospital. Will you help us? Do you have transport? Where you in that helicopter?”
Dawn shifted uneasily, her gaze darting from the intruder to Sheena and back again. She felt anxious and took a few steps nearer Sheena. The man looked at her. His eyes were cold and uncompromising.
“You’re Doctor McKenzie,” he said.
Sheena nodded. “Yes but Terry needs help. It’s urgent.”
“He’s beyond help.”
The cold, clipped words made Dawn feel as if her heart had been dipped in icy water. She moaned softly.
“Sit over there,” the man told Sheena, pointing at the couch with his gun.
“Now wait a . . .”
Sheena’s protest was interrupted when the man kicked the French doors shut behind him and walked further into the room.
“Where’s your laptop. The one you took from Area 7?” he asked.
“Look, I don’t know who you think you are but . . .”
The slap was hard, almost taking Sheena off her feet. Dawn screamed, jumping up.
“Sit down! Unless you want some of the same,” he ordered, his finger stabbing at the couch in anger.
Dawn sat, her eyes wide, hands trembling as she watched Sheena wipe the blood from her lips.
“Fetch that chair over here.”
Sheena did as the man ordered and he pushed her into the seat, securing her hands behind her back with plastic ties.
“Now you.”
Dawn pulled over an antique dining chair and the man cuffed her wrists to the arms. He sat on the couch opposite them and took out his gun again.
“So,” he said, “just like in all those films you no doubt watch, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. For both your sakes I’d suggest you do it the easy way and answer my questions honestly.”
Dawn stared at him with hate-filled eyes, wishing she had the shotgun in her hands.
Where was it? Where had she left it?
“Let’s start with the crispy guy on the floor shall we. Who is he?”
Sheena struggled with her bonds. “You heartless bastard!” she shouted.
“Who is he, or do you want me to wake him up and find out myself?”
“His name is Terry. He’s Mr Booker’s Estate Manager.”
“How did he end up like this?”
“When the helicopter crashed and exploded.”
“He was on board the helicopter?” Gonzalez asked, his voice rising in doubt.
Sheena nodded.
“Well I guess that’s two things I owe him for then.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Tell me where the laptop is.”
“What laptop?” Sheena was worried. If the laptop got into the wrong hands her work could be easily replicated.
The man leant forwards on the couch, forearms resting on his knees, gun held steady in a two handed grip. Slowly raising the gun, he pointed it at Terry’s head.
“Can you live with another man’s death on your conscience doctor? I know it might be a mercy to put him out of his misery, but still.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Sheena’s voice shook with indignation.
“You sure you want to test that theory doctor?”
“Upstairs. It’s in the bedroom upstairs,” Sheena capitulated in a beaten voice. “The third one along. Under the bed.”
The man stood up, holstering his gun, a sneer on his lips. “Don’t even think about trying to escape,” he said. “Otherwise Crispy there won’t need a doctor, he’ll need an undertaker.”
Dawn looked at Sheena, seeing the shock in her eyes. She felt totally numb, like when she’d first heard that her mum was dead.
“What’ll he do when he gets the laptop?” she whispered in a subdued voice after the man had left the room.
“Hopefully he’ll go,” Sheena replied, not really believing what she was saying, just trying to reassure Dawn.
Footsteps sounded and the man came back into the study, a laptop clutched in his hand. Sitting at the desk, he opened the lid and pressed the on-off button, tapping his fingers as he waited for it to boot up.
As the screen finally lit up he chuckled quietly to himself, then turned to Sheena. “Well doctor,” he said, “are you going to tell me the password or do I have to guess it?”
Sheena sat staring at him for a moment, her heart pounding.
Should she take the chance or not? she searched for the right answer, mind in a turmoil. Which password should she give him? The one that would give him access to her research, or the one that would completely wipe the disc?
The first would mean that others would continue her work - with all the terrors that inferred, the second would probably result in their deaths.
“A, C, r, o, n, 25, A, D, G,” Sheena responded to the man’s raised eyebrows, carefully calling out each character.
The man rattled the keyboard then looked across at her, checking the password with her one last time. Sheena nodded and he hit the Enter key.
=06:41 hrs=
The room had grown unnaturally quiet. Sheena watched the man studying the laptop. The hard disc light was flickering but nothing seemed to be happening. He turned to look at her, his eyes flashing in the dim light. She shivered, looking at the floor.
“It can take quite a while to load up,” she said looking up at him through her eyelashes. “The files are big.”
As Gonzalez sat watching the screen, waiting for the computer to finish booting up, he smiled to himself. He’d been right to come back to the mansion instead of staying at Area 7 and directing operations there. After he’d finished here, he would go back and take over where he’d left off.
Sheena watched him, praying that the programme had loaded and was running in the background.
“What’s your name?” she asked, trying to divert his attention from the laptop.
“Gonzalez,” he answered, gaze still fixed on the screen.
He suddenly straightened in his chair, leaning forward, swearing under his breath. Raising his fist he brought it down on the keyboard with a crash. Half a dozen keys shot from the laptop, rattling off the desk and flying in all directions.
Gonzalez slowly turned his look on Sheena, shaking his head from side to side.
“That was a big mistake doctor,” he said.
Turning back to the laptop, He picked it up and slammed it down on the desk. Pieces of plastic flew off. Tearing the back from what was left of the chassis, Gonzalez pulled out the hard drive.
“There are people who can retrieved information from this doctor,” he said holding it up for her to see. “All you’ve done is make things more awkward for me.” Standing up he walked over to Sheena. “Where’s the rest of the paperwork you took from Area 7 when you left?”
Sheena cringed back in her seat, feeling the anger radiating from the man standing over her. She looked away, closing her eyes. “Do what you will to me,” she whispered. “There’s no paperwork. The laptop was all I took.”
Without warning Gonzalez drew his gun and shot Terry in the head.
“Oh but it’s not you that I’m going to hurt doctor. At least not straight away.” A smile spread over his face and he turned the gun on Dawn. “After I’ve killed this one, then I’ll get to work on you. You’ll be surprised at how long I can keep you alive, wishing you were dead. Where are the papers? I won’t ask again.”
Dawn was in shock, her fingers tingling, her eyes wide, her ears picking up every little sound, even her nose telling her that the cut flowers in the vase on the far side of the room were lilacs. The whole world was brighter, more alive. She was trembling uncontrollably.
Sheena’s mouth hung open, her mind fighting to hold onto the contents of her stomach. She looked at the face that had once smiled at her - now a blackened mess oozing brain tissue onto the floor. She worked her mouth, trying to speak, desperately shaking her head as though it might turn back time and release her from the nightmare.
Gonzalez put the barrel of his gun under her chin, raising her head so he could look into her eyes.
“Well doctor, what’s it to be? Another death, or the paperwork?”
Sheena gasped a series of breaths, trying not to lose control of her stomach. “Please . . .” she managed through a tongue-filled mouth. “Please you have to believe me, there are no papers. The laptop was all.”
Gonzalez turned, holding his gun against Dawn’s temple. “Last chance doctor.”
“NO!” Sheena’s scream was full of anguished terror. She was straining at the ties binding her wrists, cutting them deep into her skin, pulling the chair over the carpet in a series of disjointed jerks. Her voice bounced from the study walls as she shouted at Gonzalez, her whole body thrashing in panic.
“PLEASE NO!”
=06:42 hrs=
Alex woke with a start. He was disorientated, not knowing where he was or what had woken him. Then something licked his cheek again and he turned to see a large dog looking down at him, it’s big tongue lolling from its mouth.
Alex frowned, wondering where it had come from. A voice called in the distance and the dog’s ears pricked up. It looked back out of the bush, then at Alex again, head tipped to one side, panting.
“Bugger off,” Alex whispered, pushing at the dog’s head.
The voice called again and the dog barked, making Alex jump.
“Go away before he comes and finds me. Go home!”
The dog backed half-way out of the bush, then hesitated. This time, when the voice called the dog disappeared in a flurry of falling leaves. Alex breathed a silent sigh of relief, his heart still hammering in his chest.
Crawling out of the bush Alex stood up, the sharp tang of seaweed and the sound of waves reminding him of where he was and what he had to do. The sky was light, promising a sunny day. Checking his watch he saw it was coming up for a quarter to seven.
Christ, he’d been asleep for an hour and a half!
Blue flashing lights suddenly appeared in the distance, accompanied by the he-haw of sirens. Alex hid behind the bush as a red fire-tender flashed past, the Doppler effect adding to its appearance of speed. It was followed by two other rescue vehicles and a police car.
As the dust settled, Alex pulled out a map and studied it. Booker’s house was about four miles in the opposite direction to that taken by the fire engines. It would take him at least an hour, probably more the way his legs were aching.
He set out along the road thankful that the rain had stopped. The low clouds were beginning to break and the humidity was rising. Alex frowned, hoping it wasn’t going to be too hot once the sun burnt the low lying mist away. He had a long hike in front of him and too much heat would slow him down.
As Alex strode along the side of the road, his tired legs consuming the distance at a steady pace, a lone animal followed him at a distance, gaze fixed unwaveringly on his back.
=07:30 hrs=
Alex checked the map one last time, then folded it, slipping it into an inside pocket. Not long now, about another half hour’s hard walk. Since the rescue services had roared passed there had been little traffic on the road - just a couple of cars and a lorry.
Realising that he stood out like a marshmallow man at a weight-watches convention Alex had dropped into the roadside ditch when they approached. He didn’t want to chance getting picked up by the police after all the effort he’d put into getting here.
Sitting down for a rest, he pulled out an energy bar and chewed on it, wondering why there were so many half eaten rabbits and other small dead animals lying about.
As he chewed the bar Alex thought about Dawn. She was so young and vulnerable and inexperienced. He wondered how she was coping, hoping that the doctor was looking after her properly. Finished with the meagre meal, he took a drink from the bottle of water he was carrying and strode off down the road again.
As Alex’s shadow lengthened behind him, another darker shadow stopped beside the wrapper he’d just dropped, licking the remnants of chocolate before silently following after him.
Twenty minutes later Alex saw a high stone wall that obviously surrounded a house of some kind. He came to a large ornate gateway, the nearest post of which displayed a fancy iron plaque declaring that this was the Booker Mansion.
While Alex was examining the high gates, the cat that had followed him scaled the stone wall farther back along the road, working its way along the top. It had been persistent, stalking its prey patiently, knowing its time would come, not now but soon.
The cat was young, not much more than a kitten. It knew instinctively that the prey was too big for it to tackle on its own. It sensed others of its kind nearby, others that would help. Inching its way along the top of the wall the cat stopped just above the man’s head, fighting the deep rage that urged it to attack the prey right now.
Alex rattled the gates. They were firmly locked. Reaching out, he put a finger on the entry unit’s call button but hesitated. Lowering his hand, he curled his fingers in a fit of indecision. He didn’t know who might be at the mansion. Maybe the doctor had taken Dawn back to Area 7 so that she could keep an eye on her. If his little escapade with the navy had been on the news he might be recognised and stopped before he could get to Dawn.
Making up his mind to take a look first, Alex scaled the gates and sat astride the high stone wall, catching his breath before climbing down the other side. A noise made him turn. A young cat lay crouched farther along the wall, watching him with wary eyes.
Alex’s face lit up in a smile. He was a cat man, always had been, preferring their independence to a dog’s need for a pack leader.
“Well hi puss. What are you doing there?”
The cat lowered its head, its whole body flattening, its fur standing erect, lips curling back over sharp teeth.
“Whoa puss! Now that’s not nice is it.” Alex held out his hand, rubbing his thumb over his fingertips, making clicking sounds with his tongue. “Come on, let’s be friends shall we?”
When Alex reached out the cat lifted a paw, extending its claws, hissing and growling in the back of its throat.
“Fair enough,” Alex muttered to himself, turning away and dropping to the ground, rolling over as he landed to lessen the impact.
Can’t win ‘em all, he thought, leaning one-handed against the wall while he brushed the leaves off his clothes.
The cat ran along the wall, looking over the edge, it’s yellow slitted eyes widening. Its prey was getting away. Its heart-rate climbed, speeding the virus through its veins, flooding its brain with an almost palpable rage.
Gripping the top of the wall with its claws, the cat bared its teeth and launched itself into the air.
=08:01 hrs=
Alex heard a noise and looked up. The cat had jumped from the wall onto the low hanging branch of a tree. It seemed to be following him. Smiling to himself, Alex turned his attention back to the mansion that he could just make out through the trees.
Halfway along the drive Alex caught the flicker of something to his left and looked over. The cat was pacing him. He stopped. The cat stopped. He began walking again and the cat did the same. Then, from a nearby bush another animal appeared, joining it. This cat was bigger. It looked like a male.
Alex shrugged and continued up the drive, his deck shoes crunching on the stones. Glancing over at the cats again, he frowned. There were four now. Just how many cats did Booker have?
The animals kept pace with him, watching his every move. Warning tingles ran up Alex’s spine. Something wasn’t right here. Cats didn’t behave this way.
Stepping off the drive he cut across the lawn to his right, putting some distance between himself and the cats. As he neared a large flower bed three more of the animals emerged from amongst some tall fancy grasses, flanking his other side.
“What the . . .”
Alex stopped, looking around. He could see at least five other cats in the distance. If he didn’t move right now they’d have him surrounded.
Although he knew that cat’s didn’t attack people, Alex’s rising uneasiness turned to fear, overtaking logic. He broke into a run, heading towards a garden shed behind a low hedge.
Glancing over his shoulder Alex could see that the cat’s were running after him and he piled on some more speed, gulping lungfuls of air as he neared the hedge. Another quick look told him that it was going to be a close thing. The cats were just a few metres behind him now but he would make it.
Vaulting over the low hedge, Alex threw himself through the open shed door and slammed it shut behind him, leaning his forehead against the rough woodwork, heaving and coughing as he tried to recover his breath.
“God-damn!” he whispered, raising his head from the door. “God-damn!”
It was then he heard the low growl from behind him.
=08:05 hrs=
Gonzalez studied Sheena’s face, his finger whitening as he put pressure on the gun’s trigger.
“Please, you have to believe me,” Sheena pleaded. “Why would I lie to you when I told you were the laptop was?”
Dawn could feel the muzzle of the gun pressed against her temple. It filled her world. She was unable to think, unable to speak, hardly able to breathe. Her whole being was waiting for the explosion that would end her life.
“Please . . .” Sheena tried again, closing her eyes when she saw Gonzalez’s finger tightening on the trigger.
Instead of shooting Dawn, Gonzalez released the trigger and lowered his gun. “Okay doctor,” he said.
Holstering his weapon, he began a thorough search of Booker’s study, pulling books from the shelves and emptying drawers onto the floor, adding to the mess that Booker had made when he’d left. Finding nothing, he turned his attention to the rest of the house.
As Gonzalez ransacked the mansion, Sheena and Dawn sat tied to their chairs, Dawn sobbing quietly. Sheena’s heart went out to her, realising the poor girl must be terrified.
“Are you okay Dawn?” she asked.
Dawn raised her head, sniffing back the tears. “Bastard!” she said. “I thought he was going to shoot me.”
Sheena was taken aback, realising that the tears of fright were really tears of anger. She had misjudged Dawn, again.
“Can you get free?” Dawn asked pulling at her own restraints with no luck.
“No. My hands are numb, I can’t feel them.”
Dawn looked over at Sheena and gave her a small quirky grin. “Thanks for saving me,” she said.
“I’m not sure that we’re saved yet,” Sheena said.
Dawn turned her gaze to the body lying on the floor, her face drawn. She had laughed and joked with this man such a short time ago, and now he was dead.
“I didn’t know him that well but he seemed a nice man,” Sheena said.
Dawn nodded. “He was,” she replied, giving a quiet sigh and taking a deep, shuddering breath.
“Someone will be here soon,” Sheena said with as much conviction as she could muster.
Dawn looked her straight in the eye and Sheena glanced away. “That’s what my dad told me,” she answered quietly.
“It’s not his fault Dawn, the island’s been shut down.”
“I know.”
“He’d be here if he could.”
“I know.”
“Do you and your dad live alone?”
Dawn nodded, a sad smile on her face. “My mum died when I was young.”
“It must have been hard for you. For the both of you.”
Dawn’s eyes clouded over, as though she was deep in thought. “Yes I suppose it was. For him as well.”
“He loves you.”
Dawn shook her head and her eyes hardened. “You don’t know that. Stop patronising me.”
Sheena nodded. “Yes you’re right. I’m sorry Dawn.”
“I know he loves me,” Dawn whispered, her conviction growing inside her.
Yes, he does love me!
The realisation was like a light suddenly flooding a dark room.
He does love me a