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Authors: Alastair Gunn
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problem didn’t involve them. He was nearing exhaustion. The number of consecutive hours over which he could function normally had begun to decrease, and recently his thoughts had been all but alien to him.
He couldn’t carry on using drugs to stay sharp long term.
As if to emphasize the point, his temperature began to spike. He closed his eyes, all too aware of what would follow.
His body shook and his jaw clenched. It felt like a band was being tightened around his forehead. Rumbling silence built, quickly becoming a roar as he hunched, milling the heels of his hands into his temples. His body locked, and pain set in.
After what seemed like a long time, a level of blackness lifted behind his eyelids, and he felt his heartbeat beginning to slow. He dragged in a deep, tattered breath.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood. His calves burned where they’d been braced against the chair legs, and he bent to massage the muscles.
Suddenly he froze, staring towards the source of the noise.
Someone had knocked at the door.
He waited for confirmation, every sense alert. Had they found him? And, if so, should he try to run, or stay and lie?
Another knock.
He swore silently. The Taser was in his holdall, fifteen feet away in the front room.
He edged into the hallway until he could see across to the glass-panelled front door. Light flooded through the semi-transparent sections, interrupted only by the unmistakeable shadow of somebody standing outside.
But no face appeared at the window, and no shout came. It was a salesman cold calling, something like that. They’d leave …
Then the handle dipped.
In seconds he was at the holdall, gripping the Taser’s handle as he heard the lock turn.
The door opened. He straightened as the intruder moved out from behind it.
He only just stopped himself raising the weapon.
‘Goodness!’ His landlady staggered backwards and slumped against the wall, dropping her keys.
‘Ms Peterson.’ He started forwards, impressed at how naturally his alter ego resurfaced. ‘Are you OK?’
The old lady sagged, her dress catching on the raised pattern of the wallpaper. ‘Oh … yes, dear. You startled me … what in heaven’s name
is
that?’
‘This?’ He waved the Taser, nonchalantly. ‘It’s a, uh, novelty remote control … for the TV. You know,
Star Trek
?’
‘Well, I never.’ She was breathing heavily. ‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry to just come in like that, but when there was no answer I assumed you were out.’
‘Actually, that’s what I wanted you to think. I thought you were a double-glazing salesman.’
‘Oh, I do apologize. It’s just that I still haven’t got round to having a letterbox put in that door and I wanted to leave you this.’ She held out a small brown envelope. ‘You gave me too much money for this week’s rent.’
‘How silly of me.’ He smiled. ‘Come and sit down. Get your breath back while I make some tea.’
She shuffled towards the sofa, frail neck and shoulders looking like they had trouble supporting her head.
He pocketed the Taser and closed the door.
WEDNESDAY
13.
‘
Antonia, it’s your mother. We bumped into Paul in Waitrose yesterday, and he said that last time he saw you he thought you’d lost weight. He still misses you, you know. Anyway, I think your father’s now concerned that you’re not eating properly, so I’ve made you a lasagne, which I’ve broken down into portions and frozen, so please come round and collect them. You must stay for dinner, too, although we can’t do tonight or tomorrow—
’
‘
Message saved
.’
Hawkins dumped the phone in the cup holder on the dashboard of the car, vowing to call her mother back later. She watched a man with a newspaper wander slowly past, trying to read as he walked. The car window was streaked with rain, but she could still make out the bright SUN EXCLUSIVE header. Today’s headline would ensure champagne bonuses for those involved at the paper, but she
He couldn’t carry on using drugs to stay sharp long term.
As if to emphasize the point, his temperature began to spike. He closed his eyes, all too aware of what would follow.
His body shook and his jaw clenched. It felt like a band was being tightened around his forehead. Rumbling silence built, quickly becoming a roar as he hunched, milling the heels of his hands into his temples. His body locked, and pain set in.
After what seemed like a long time, a level of blackness lifted behind his eyelids, and he felt his heartbeat beginning to slow. He dragged in a deep, tattered breath.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood. His calves burned where they’d been braced against the chair legs, and he bent to massage the muscles.
Suddenly he froze, staring towards the source of the noise.
Someone had knocked at the door.
He waited for confirmation, every sense alert. Had they found him? And, if so, should he try to run, or stay and lie?
Another knock.
He swore silently. The Taser was in his holdall, fifteen feet away in the front room.
He edged into the hallway until he could see across to the glass-panelled front door. Light flooded through the semi-transparent sections, interrupted only by the unmistakeable shadow of somebody standing outside.
But no face appeared at the window, and no shout came. It was a salesman cold calling, something like that. They’d leave …
Then the handle dipped.
In seconds he was at the holdall, gripping the Taser’s handle as he heard the lock turn.
The door opened. He straightened as the intruder moved out from behind it.
He only just stopped himself raising the weapon.
‘Goodness!’ His landlady staggered backwards and slumped against the wall, dropping her keys.
‘Ms Peterson.’ He started forwards, impressed at how naturally his alter ego resurfaced. ‘Are you OK?’
The old lady sagged, her dress catching on the raised pattern of the wallpaper. ‘Oh … yes, dear. You startled me … what in heaven’s name
is
that?’
‘This?’ He waved the Taser, nonchalantly. ‘It’s a, uh, novelty remote control … for the TV. You know,
Star Trek
?’
‘Well, I never.’ She was breathing heavily. ‘Oh, dear, I’m sorry to just come in like that, but when there was no answer I assumed you were out.’
‘Actually, that’s what I wanted you to think. I thought you were a double-glazing salesman.’
‘Oh, I do apologize. It’s just that I still haven’t got round to having a letterbox put in that door and I wanted to leave you this.’ She held out a small brown envelope. ‘You gave me too much money for this week’s rent.’
‘How silly of me.’ He smiled. ‘Come and sit down. Get your breath back while I make some tea.’
She shuffled towards the sofa, frail neck and shoulders looking like they had trouble supporting her head.
He pocketed the Taser and closed the door.
WEDNESDAY
13.
‘
Antonia, it’s your mother. We bumped into Paul in Waitrose yesterday, and he said that last time he saw you he thought you’d lost weight. He still misses you, you know. Anyway, I think your father’s now concerned that you’re not eating properly, so I’ve made you a lasagne, which I’ve broken down into portions and frozen, so please come round and collect them. You must stay for dinner, too, although we can’t do tonight or tomorrow—
’
‘
Message saved
.’
Hawkins dumped the phone in the cup holder on the dashboard of the car, vowing to call her mother back later. She watched a man with a newspaper wander slowly past, trying to read as he walked. The car window was streaked with rain, but she could still make out the bright SUN EXCLUSIVE header. Today’s headline would ensure champagne bonuses for those involved at the paper, but she
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