London Under Midnight

  'This isn't estuary water.' Carter sounded disgusted. 'The rain's washed it out.'

  'There's got to be one that's salty enough!'

  In desperation she began drinking at one of the pools on the beach. Clear, sweet water. Not a trace of salt. She drank with a furious single-mindedness in the hope that a saltiness would emerge as she worked her way deeper. But all the flavour she found was that dusty taste of rainwater. The bite in her side itched again. A mad riot of sensation that made her long to rip at the still raw edges of the wound with her fingernails. And all the time hunger pulsed through her.

  A moment later she gorged on mud again. Anything to introduce a solid presence in that yawning gulf in her belly. As she ate she found herself recalling Carter's own memory as if it was her own. The day two surprised boys stood in their uncle's greenhouse and lifted the lid on the reddest substance in the world.

  THIRTEEN

  The sun didn't show. The storm that had broken the back of the heat wave left its cloud behind to cover the sky. Even so, for April and Carter the light soon reached a screaming intensity. The beach that had been a dull yellow by night now became a fluorescent gold that blinded them as they drank from pools on the beach or gorged on river silt. Most of the time April couldn't bear to lift her head as there was always that tantalizing promise that one of the pools would yield that satisfying salt she craved. Only it never did. Constantly, the light grew brighter and the pain it brought to her skin appeared to force its way through to meet the pain inside her body. That mingling and conjoining of two separate agonies threatened to push her into madness.

  So when one pool didn't offer what her body howled for she scrambled on all fours to the next. At that moment all that mattered was food. Gorge on it, savage it, swallow it, munch, gulp, ingest - she must find real food soon. The consequences of going without were unthinkable. Beside her, Carter clawed at the water as if in the hope of finding salinity in the mud at the bottom. As her mind whirled with those secondhand recollections of Carter gazing into the barrel full of blood, and the twin agonies of the light striking her exposed skin, and the pain of starvation, she realized the futility of trying to satisfy her hunger. In the past, saltwater had blunted the pangs. But the rainwater had diluted the estuary water to the point where there was nothing to be gained from gorging on it. The mud didn't help, either. If anything, its bulk only threatened to burst her intestine.

  With a supreme effort of will she gathered her senses. 'Carter… Carter?'

  He plunged his face into a puddle and savaged it like a wolf savaging a lamb.

  'Carter, listen to me!' She hauled him from the water. 'Leave that and listen!'

  Somehow his sight had turned inwards. She knew that he gazed into that vat of cattle blood again. The memory was transfixed in his mind.

  She grabbed his head. 'Listen! This must have happened before. The rain washed the salt away.'

  'Uh.'

  'When it rained before, what did you do?'

  'Nnn-uh.'

  'You must have done something else to take the hunger away. No, Carter! There's no point in drinking it. It doesn't work anymore. It's been diluted!' Once more she pulled him away from the water so she could shout into his face. 'When it rained before, what did you do?'

  He gulped; his eyes slipped into focus as an expression of horror contorted his face. 'It's never happened before.'

  'It must have rained.'

  He shook his head. 'I arrived at the start of the dry spell.'

  His eyes rolled as he mumbled, 'S'never rained. Always hot. Sun… it didn't rain. Not once…'

  'Okay.' She forced herself to think. 'We've got to ride through this. When the tide falls it'll leave saltwater. As soon as the sun comes out the water will begin to evaporate. Salinity will increase. Then we can drink. We'll be okay.'

  He grunted. 'Can't wait that long.' Suddenly his head darted toward her arm. She managed to withdraw it before his teeth snapped together.

  'Don't bite me. I'm trying to save your life.'

  'Why?' His eyes glazed again.

  'Because you saved mine.'

  'I mean what's the point, we're already dead.'

  'Don't say that!' She rose to her feet despite the blinding light falling through the clouds. 'Get under the bushes. We'll wait it out in the shade. It hurts to stay out where it is bright.'

  He muttered as if becoming feverish; already his lucidity was escaping him. When she tried to help him stand he darted his mouth at her, trying to bite her arms with those gold-tipped teeth of his.

  'You've got to try, Carter. We need each other!'

  At last he did stand. He was groaning; the pains were overwhelming; when he opened his eyes there was a desperate searching quality as he scanned his surroundings for something to eat.

  'Carter…' she began, but he broke away from her with a scream. Then he lied. Any hope of him dashing back to the house was soon shattered. Arms flailing, he raced down to the water's edge, then waded into the river.

  'Carter! Don't do it! Please!'

  She saw his bright wake in all that dazzling radiance. The man became a silhouette even thought she shielded her eyes against the glare; a moment later he dipped his entire body underwater and vanished from sight.

  April dragged herself up the beach to the place of deepest shadow beneath a willow. The green of the grass and leaves was so bright it seemed to yell at her.

  A shouting green, she thought dizzily. Shouting greens, howling light and beautiful singing reds. I want to see into the tomato grower's barrel, too. I've never seen blood like that before. Beautiful, delicious, luxuriant crimson. Red gold.

  Red gold. The phrase amused her; she murmured it to herself as she twitched in the grip of delirium. 'Red gold. Red, red gold…

  The hunger returned - and the sensation took her. It was as simple and as absolute as that. April even believed she still lay in the shadows, until with a shock she realized that she'd run down the beach and already her feet splashed through the water.

  This is how it ends for me, too, she told herself in surprise. The others couldn't stop themselves. Neither could Carter. Now me.

  The water reached her waist and as she toppled forward she understood why the others had vanished so quickly; the river bed dropped away at the edge of an underwater cliff. One moment her feet pressed against a solid mass, the next there was only water. And this was water that was possessed by its own life force. The powerful current gripped her and rushed her away into utter blackness.

  FOURTEEN

  Trajan had discharged himself from hospital against medical advice, so Ben had to find his home address through a friend of April Connor's. Ben figured that if Trajan and April had just signed for a new apartment then they might be already living together. Just reading the e-mail that contained the address filled Ben with jealousy. Disgusted with himself he thought, I should be focusing on that. I should be angry or frightened for her; instead I'm picturing the apartment that she shared with Trajan and I'm jealous; so why am I behaving like a jilted boyfriend? I was always good friends with April; there was nothing more; no romance. Physical contact was a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Jealousy fixes itself to your bones, then it pollutes your mind. You can't just shrug it off. It's not a migraine that you can zap with painkillers. It stays there and makes you miserable.

  'So, what's the answer?' he asked himself as he left his home. 'The answer is action.' He walked past graffiti that must have been added to a wall last night.

  VAMPIRE SHARKZ

  ☺ They're coming to get you ☺

  But the graffiti was no longer important to him. He pushed the magazine assignment to the back of his mind. What burned with importance was to find April Connor. For that he had to start with Trajan.

  When he arrived the door to the apartment in Bloomsbury was already open. Ben leaned forward to get a glimpse of the gloomy interior. There were faint aromas of cooking spices along with something that could have been disinfectant or antiseptic. Ou
tside, the weekday traffic hummed along still wet streets, yet inside here was a capsule of silence. Leaving a door open even in an upmarket London quarter like Bloomsbury isn't a good idea. Sneak thieves would find an open door to an expensive apartment irresistible. Ben lightly tapped on the door.

  'Hello?'

  A shape catapulted from the shadows; set in the upper part of it were a pair of eyes that burned with a blue light.

  'Have you found her?' A man with the bandaged head lunged at Ben, his hands outstretched as if he planned to strangle him.

  'No, I'm-'

  'Damn it! Why aren't you people out looking for her? I told you over and over. She hasn't left me. April's been taken against her will.'

  'Trajan.' Ben recognized the blond man despite the white bandage around his head. The eyes were wild-looking now; nothing like the blue-eyed disdain shown when he met April and the man down by the river just days ago.

  Trajan pressed his hand to the back of his head as the pain of the injury flared again. 'I can't understand why you haven't told the press. If people saw April's picture in the papers then they might-'

  'Trajan. I don't think you remember me. I'm not from the police. My name is Ben Ashton. I'm a friend of April's. I heard from a mutual friend that she'd-'

  'You know where she is?'

  'No.'

  'I don't need well-wishers right now. I'm waiting for the police.'

  With that he blundered back along the passageway to a door that led to the lounge. Ben followed. He was determined not to be shoved back out on to the street without hearing the circumstances of April's disappearance.

  'What happened, Trajan? Did you see the man who attacked her? Tell me!'

  Ben entered the lounge. The blinds were down, a TV in the corner showed a news channel. Trajan must have been hunched in front of the thing, willing it to report news of the missing woman. Trajan stood in the middle of the room. His eyes were crimped tight shut and his fingers groped through the air as he tried to find a chair by touch alone.

  'You should think about going back to the hospital,' Ben told him.

  The man shook his head; the pain from that movement alone made him grunt.

  'Look,' Ben said. 'I need to ask you some questions. But first lie down for a few moments. Here… let me help.'

  As Ben took hold of the man's arm to guide him across the room he let out a scream. Trajan whirled on Ben, his eyes snapped open and blazed at something behind him. A second later Trajan smashed Ben back against the wall. And even though they were almost face-to-face, Trajan glared at the wall just above Ben's shoulder, as if his eyes fixed on something through the plasterwork.

  'I told you not to touch me,' the man howled. 'Leave me alone! And why did you have to hurt her? What made you do that to her? She'd done nothing to you!'

  His entire body quivered; his grasp on Ben's arms possessed a strength generated by terror as much as anger. It lasted only an instant, then confusion flooded Trajan's face. He glanced sideways as if surprised to find himself at home. Ben noticed that a bloody patch leaked through the bandage at the back of his head. He took a deep, shuddering breath before he turned back to Ben. This time his eyes focused on Ben's face.

  'You best leave. I'm still not…' Trajan grimaced. 'I hurt my head.' He released Ben then stood back, tottering as he did so. This time he didn't resist when Ben led him to the sofa.

  'Sit down. I'll get you a drink.'

  'Get me a drink? No, you can get me April. That's what I want. April Connor. In this room. Now!' After that outburst he allowed Ben to help him sit down. 'Look. Just go away, okay?'

  'I'm staying until I hear what happened. April was my friend.'

  Trajan's eyes kept returning to the television, no doubt expecting to see news of April at any moment.

  'Trajan, please tell me what you know.'

  'What I know isn't worth knowing.' The man grimaced again. 'The police won't act. If anything they think we had an argument and April hit me before leaving. All I know is this. We were walking down by the river a couple of days ago. April met someone she knew.'

  'That would have been me.' Ben was mystified. 'Don't you remember me?'

  'That's the problem. The doctors tell me it's an effect of the head injury. They say short-term memory needs time to embed itself deep down in here.' He touched his temple. 'If you take a knock on the head it can wipe out memories before the attack took place.' His hands were shaking. 'I remember signing the contract on the new apartment, then a meal; after that we decided to walk along the embankment because the weather was so warm. I remember that perfectly because April pointed out a fox that was walking along the pavement with a pizza in its mouth. It didn't have a care in the world and we marvelled that a wild animal would come into the city to hunt for junk food. Then it gets hazy. April lunged at what I thought was a stranger - but it was you, uh, Mr-?'

  'Ben Ashton. Call me Ben.'

  'Ben.' He swallowed as if remembering new information made his head ache even more. 'We saw you, and I know she talked to you but I just can't recollect the words. Then we walked again.' His face darkened. 'We were beside the river. I know that. And I know there was a figure; it must have been a man - and this is where it gets all mixed up. There was something about him…' He paused, frowning.

  'You're sure it was a man?'

  'Male alright, but an exaggerated maleness. Something brutish about him. And I know he was doing something…' He rubbed his forehead. 'I don't know what. And I can't remember any details about him. All I can recall is his actions were shocking in some way… and there was a strangeness about him.'

  'Colour of hair? Clothes? Footwear?'

  'The police have been through that. All I could tell them was what I've just told you. The man must have attacked me then abducted April… but it's all a blank.' Once more his troubled eyes returned to the television that was showing a crane lifting steel beams above the river.

  'How's you memory now?'

  'I'm being interrogated by Ben Ashton. That good enough for you?'

  'You'd left your door open.'

  'Deliberate. I'm expecting the police. They're checking her mobile phone and bank card records.' He gave an unhappy shrug. 'See if they've been used since she disappeared.'

  'Then you can explain what you said to me a few minutes ago?'

  'Look, Mr Ashton, you can see I'm in no mood for questions.'

  'When you pushed me against the wall you said, "And why did you have to hurt her? She'd done nothing to you." What did you mean by that?'

  He couldn't have been more surprised if Ben had leaned across and jabbed a finger in his eye. 'I pushed you against the wall? No… I was unsteady on my feet; I might have brushed by you.'

  'You don't remember launching yourself at me? Or asking why I hurt her?'

  'Those were my words?' Trajan's eyes oozed both sorrow and pain. 'Oh, God.'

  Ben continued. 'Then you shouted this, "I told you not to touch me… and why did you have to hurt her… she's done nothing to you." '

  Trajan bit his lip; for a moment he appeared to be close to remembering, then he pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. 'No. It's not coming.'

  'Those words you used when I came into the room, might they be the ones you spoke when the man attacked you?'

  'How can I tell? Everything's been erased.' The bandage appeared to irritate him because he yanked it off. 'The next thing I remember was after I'd found my way into a taxi. Instead of taking me home, as I asked, the driver took me to hospital because blood was squirting out of my scalp. The doctors told me I had concussion. Then they glued the wound to seal it and moved me to the observation ward.'

  'You should go back to hospital.'

  'No!'

  'You really do love her, don't you?'

  'April? Of course I love her!' Anger returned to his blue eyes. 'It's crazy that the police think that she bashed me across the skull before running off with another man. Is that what you think?'

  Ben shook
his head. 'April Connor is nearest thing to an angel you'll ever meet. She's amazing.' The moment he said the words he knew he couldn't maintain eye contact. He turned back to the television; more than anything in the world he longed to see the words: NEWSFLASH: LONDON WOMAN FOUND SAFE.

  Trajan had his own thoughts, too. 'You were good friends with April?'

  Ben smiled. 'Just good friends. But…' He shrugged. 'We were close. Lots of people thought we were in a relationship; even married; you know how people speculate. If you point me at the kitchen I'll make us both a drink.'

  The kitchen had that seasoned appearance that only comes with short-term rental properties. None of the cupboard doors fit flush to their frames; where the carpet wasn't worn it was stained. No wonder April and her number-one man had been celebrating the fact they'd signed for a new home. Again came that scalding surge of jealousy. Ben glanced through the door into the lounge as he lifted the kettle. Trajan sat with his elbow supported by the chair arm; the palm of his hand cradled his head as he kept his exhausted eyes on the TV. The man's blond hair was still matted with blood. Stubble covered his jaw. An air of helplessness surrounded him.

  Ben had taken an instinctive dislike to him when they first met. The way his blue eyes had stared at Ben as if he was nothing more than a scrap of paper blowing in the wind hadn't helped. But worse - far, far worse - is because Ben knew that April Connor was besotted with the handsome guy with the gold neck chains. And what's worse than that? Ben plugged in the kettle then took two mugs from a shelf. Even worse than knowing that the woman he desired shared that man's bed was the fact that Ben had done nothing to reveal his feelings to her when he had the chance.

  As he waited for the kettle to boil he glowered out of the window. Over the rooftops of Bloomsbury rose the classical structure of the British Museum. Contained within it were all those enduring testaments to humanity's achievements -ancient statues, Egyptian mummies, old manuscripts, hoards of gold coins, jewels, all kinds of treasures: all were safely guarded. He, Ben Ashton, had accidentally stumbled upon what he knew was the greatest treasure of his life: a lithe, good-humoured woman by the name of April Connor. Pure gold. And he'd gone to New York and carelessly let her slip through his fingers. Now he'd lost her. Not just to Trajan but perhaps to some tragedy.