LIFERS Chapter Nineteen

Gregg reckoned the old man around six-two and one-seventy at most, and in his mid fifties; his hair was dirty grey and touched his shoulders, his skin leather-looking and grimy, and his eyes burned deep-red amid a surround of mustard-yellow.

He removed the man’s hat and tossed it to the floor then turned him and pushed him up against the bars where his search produced a small plastic box, inside were two large contact lenses, the irises light-brown and the outers a brilliant white with faint red capillaries. He tossed the box and its contents next to the hat and twisted the man back to him.

‘In there,’ he said, indicating Vicky’s cell.

Jill stood by the desk as Gregg took the keys and locked the door.

‘Pieroni, Gregg,’ he said, offering his ID. ‘And you are?’

The man didn’t look at the card. ‘Jackson,’ he said. ‘Zack Jackson.’

‘Okay, Zack, here’s the deal. I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them. If you don’t answer them or I think you’re lying to me, I’ll shoot you where you stand. Is that clear?’

Zack nodded.

‘Very wise,’ Gregg told him. ‘Now, as you’ve probably worked out, I’ve already found six of the girls you’ve taken.’ He paused for a reaction, didn’t get one. ‘And my reckoning tells me there are three others that I haven’t found. Are they here? Are theystill alive?’

Another nod.

‘Tell me where.’

‘Upstairs in the town hall; there’s a balcony facin’ the entrance with five rooms off it; it’s the middle one.’

‘Is it guarded?’

A shake this time. ‘No.’

‘Tell me how many others there are here like you?’

‘A hunert; give or take.’

‘And where are they?’

‘Up there, too, and if I’m not back mighty soon, they’ll all be a headin’ this way.’

Gregg ignored the empty threat. ‘Why are they up there?’

Zach stayed silent so Gregg pulled his gun from the back of his jeans. ‘You have three seconds. One, two, thr─’

‘Wait,’ Jill said. ‘I have a better idea.’

She moved to a window and picked up the empty vase from off the cupboard then made her way to the washroom. A few seconds later she came out rubbing black lines of mascara from her face. ‘Tap’s dry,’ was all she said.

She opened the stationroom door and spent ten seconds outside before she returned with a vase full of brown, muddy water. ‘Now,’ she said, forcing the door closed with her butt. ‘Are you going to answer that question, or do I baste you?’

Zach looked from Jill to Gregg then back again. ‘We all go up there durin’ a storm; s’where we watch the rain.’

‘Why do you watch the rain?’ she said.

He raised a shoulder, dropped it. ‘It’s just somethin’ we do, we don’t know why we do it, we just do.’

‘Gregg’s one of you, so why doesn’t he do it?’

‘Cause he ain’t tasted the honey-salt, yet.’

‘The honey-salt?’ Gregg said.

‘S’what she’ll taste like if you’ve half a mind to find out, kinda sweet, kinda salty. Mind you, that shouldn’t take too long once you get the thirst.’

Gregg looked to Jill to see a frown creasing her forehead; probably not too pleased about the “sugar-salt” remark, and he didn’t think he had the thirst, just yet; he changed the subject. ‘This Ella, is she the big cheese?’

Zach scoffed. ‘S’what she likes to think.’

‘So if she’s not in charge who is?’

Zach again stalled; he looked even more reluctant to answer that one. Jill cupped a hand, scooped out some water and tossed it at him. He saw it coming and turned, but not before catching some on his right cheek where it hissed like bacon on a hotplate.

‘Next time you get the lot,’ she promised.

He rubbed the seered cheek. ‘His name’s Martins, Thomas Martins. He started this whole place off, s’why it’s named after him.’

Gregg lowered the gun. ‘Explain what you mean.’

‘Told us he wanted to live for ever, lonnevity he called it. So he gets a bunch of us to bring a bunch of others along to a town meetin’ up in Charleston, said he’d come up with this stuff, an injection. Told us what it could do, even shot his own foot just to show everyone. Three hours later there was nothin’ there but a scar. Said what he’d made don’t let you get old, neither, sumthin’ he called dem-cells fixin’ you up the whole time. That’s why, after seein’ you out there on the road all twisted and busted up, I knew you’d be comin’ back.’

He didn’t bother to correct the stem-cell thing; his attention was on Jill and the smug “See, I told you so” expression she wore.

He continued. ‘Where is this Martins, is he up there as well?’

Zach nodded. ‘Mind you, ain’t seen him for a while now. S’posed to be workin’ on somethin’ that’s gonna change us.’

After seeing what they did to those six girls and Vicky, Gregg wasn’t interested in their future, if he had anything to do with it they weren’t getting one that didn’t involve the words incarceration and death row.

‘So this Martins guy … he convinced you all to become freaks?’

‘Some didn’t get no choice; they were just kids, sixteen; that’s when they got the turning.’

‘The turning?’

‘That’s what we called it; when you turned sixteen you got the jab.’

Jill butted in. ‘Were you one of those kids?’

Again he scoffed. ‘No, I’ve always been part of it; ever since we first moved out here to build this place in nineteen-nineteen. I was offered the chance to live forever and be healthy, so I took the offer, matter of fact we all did. Didn’t know the full consequences at the time, mind, but I’m not complainin’ now.’

She moved closer. ‘Nineteen-nineteen? So how old are you?’

He straightened, proud. ‘A hunert n’ thurdy-four, I was forty years old with a bad heart and blind in one eye when I accepted, strong as an Ox she is now and I see perfect, too,’ he said, thumping his chest and winking at her.

She lowered the vase. ‘So this, live-forever thing,’ she said, then pointed to Gregg. ‘Is that the reason Hal called him a Lifer?’

‘Hal’s the only one called us that, reckoned everyone who got turned was a prisoner in their own skin.’

‘And are you still turning people?’ she asked.

‘Nope, ain’t turned no one for fifty years o’ more.’

It was Gregg’s turn to scoff. ‘I beg to differ,’ he said, again rubbing the spot where they injected him.

‘You were a one-off, just some meddlesome investigator snoopin’ round and stickin’ his nose in where it weren’t wanted. Hal there didn’t like it, he wanted to shoot you straight off; can’t say I blame him m’self.’

‘And that’s exactly what I’d’ve done in his shoes,’ Gregg said. ‘Now, Zach, tell me how many entrances there are to the town hall.’

‘Just the one.’

‘Will it be locked?’

‘Huh uh. No one goes in or out till the rain stops.’

‘Unless they use the tunnel like you did,’ Jill said.

Zach didn’t comment.

‘Well that makes two ways in,’ Gregg said, picking up the map. ‘Is this tunnel the only one?’

‘The one from in there meets a main tunnel that leads to the town hall, and there are others leading from the cinema, the schoolhouse, the garage, and the library.’

Jill put the vase down and took the map from Gregg; she held it up for Zach to see. ‘It doesn’t show them on here.’

‘Don’t need to, at one time each building had its own map, but they’s all gone now, that’s the only one lasted as long as we have.’

Gregg put his gun in the back of his jeans and went over to the writing table. He plucked the pen from its holder, took the map from Jill, and passed them both through the bars. ‘Draw me the tunnels that aren’t on here.’

Zach spent a couple of minutes drawing before handing the items back. Gregg studied the alterations. The lines denoting the tunnels betrayed a very nervous hand, and the writing that identified the buildings could just as well have been that of a five or six year old. He wondered if it was Zack’s age or education, or the fact that things weren’t looking too good for him right about now. He put the map and pen on the desk and continued.

‘How do I know you’re not lying to me? How do I know that when we get in those tunnels that they won’t be crammed full of you lot?’

‘You don’t, but you’re an investigator, prob’ly trained to spot when someone lies to you. Plus, you got a gun and she got water, wouldn’t be prudent to lie.’

Gregg looked again at the altered map. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be sure to let the authorities know how helpful you’ve−’

On hearing the boom, he snapped his head up to see Zach fall backward to the floor, a small hole in right side of his head, and no left side beyond and above the nose. He turned to see Jill holding the still-smoking Magnum in shaking hands.

He took it. ‘Jesus, Jill, he wasn’t going anywhere.’

‘I know, but judging by the outcome of your questions, I have a strong feeling that very soon you and I will be, and I wasn’t leaving him in there with Vicky; he just might…’

Gregg put the gun on the desk and picked up the vase. ‘Then you better make sure,’ he said.

She walked closer to the cell and shook it twice in an upward motion to empty it, some of the water struck flesh but nothing happened. So now they knew for certain that death seemed to be the cure for the water affliction they suffered. Not the greatest news from Gregg’s point of view.

Jill again put the vase down and Gregg caught her staring at Vicky. He couldn’t tell if she was shedding more tears or rain was dripping from her hair. He hoped for the latter because she needed to stay strong through this, and up to now she’d exceeded his expectations on that front. But he had a feeling things were going to get a lot more complicated and even more dangerous for the two of them before the night was over.

A clap of thunder ended the sense of privacy Jill seemed to have ensconced herself in, and with a sharp intake of breath, she returned to the reality of their situation.

‘Jill?’

‘Yeah, sorry, I was …’ she trailed off.

He sympathised. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘Need to sort something out,’ she said, then headed for the washroom.

Gregg picked up Zach’s flashlight and turned it on and off a couple of times to test it, and then unlocked the cell and took Zach’s gloves. He looked across to where Vicky lay to see quite an amount of blood pooled around her body. He picked up the blanket he had earlier and placed it over her before he crossed himself.

‘Thanks, Gregg,’ Jill said, her voice sombre. ‘That was nice of you.’

Gregg saw how she’d used her T-shirt to wipe ruined make-up from her face. ‘A marked improvement,’ he said.

‘You could have said how awful I looked.’

‘Rule number two; never tell a woman how awful she looks.’

‘And rule number one?’

He smiled. ‘Never date a woman who might cause you to break rule number two.’

Jill returned the smile, weak though it was. ‘Can I ask you a question?’ she said, a little more serious.

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘What Hal said before, about you getting thirsty? And Zach with that sugar-salt thing?’

‘What about it?’

‘I want you to tell me if it starts to happen.’

‘It’s not going to happen.’

‘But if it does…’

He picked up Hal’s gun and handed it to her ‘If it does you can use this.’

Jill raised an eyebrow. ‘You think I won’t?’

‘No, I’m quite sure you will. But like I said, it’s not going to happen because you’re going through that door, turning right, and keeping on until you hit a town. As long as it rains no one will come after you.’

She put the gun down. ‘As appealing as a twenty mile hike in a thunderstorm is, Gregg, I think I’ll pass,’ she said. ‘Because this could be the bit in the movie where the dumb-blonde, for reasons known only to the writer, doesn’t switch on the light when she goes into the dark, haunted mansion, and continually calls out for someone who never answers her back. Thus telling some murderous psychotic in a grotesque mask exactly where she is, and then wonders why the hell she gets herself killed.’

‘But you’re not dumb, nor are you blonde.’

‘I know, therefore, I’m not dumb-blonde enough to go out there and get myself lost in those woods. So for now, like it or not, I’m sticking around. Besides, I owe them one, for Vicky.’

Again he picked the gun up. ‘In that case,’ he said. ‘You’d better hang on to this.’