This Rage of Echoes

  ‘But today was different?’ I nodded at the screen. ‘You laid bait and lured them in.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, the poor wretches. They simply strolled into our trap.’

  Madeline asked, ‘But why do they bring gifts?’

  ‘You’re better equipped to explain that; after all, technically, you’re one of those creatures.’

  Madeline shook her head.

  Dr Saffrey shrugged. ‘No? We don’t know why either. Either they believe we are stupid enough to be disarmed by their gifts if they bring food. If they bring babies perhaps they see those as a human shield. One that will protect them from us.’

  ‘How wrong they were,’ I said with feeling.

  ‘What happens to the babies?’ Madeline asked.

  ‘They’re dealt with. That’s all you need to know.’

  ‘Is there a technique to tell the difference between a normal human being and one that’s turned Echo?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’ Dr Saffrey made a habit of shrugging now. ‘Nothing is revealed by blood tests, at cellular level, or DNA. All we have so far is the physical change to resemble, or in your case, duplicate perfectly another human being. After that, there is only the change in behaviour. The instinctive drive to kill. Now …’ She stood up. ‘It’s time for you to enter your quarters.’

  ‘You mean quarantine?’

  Madeline added, ‘Or jail?’

  ‘You’ll be very comfortable. Also, it won’t be for long.’

  ‘But we have more questions,’ Madeline said, ‘don’t we, Mason?’

  Clearly, she’d become as distrustful as me. Then she was a chip off the old biological block.

  I agreed. ‘Round about another five hundred questions. After all, how come you’re so confident you’re not going to turn Echo. You’ve been close enough to me for the last hour or so. From what you’ve been saying I only have to e-mail some poor schmuck and they become my identical twin before you can say Shazzam!’

  ‘I appreciate your concerns.’

  ‘Concerns? Believe me, I’m a raging inferno of concerns.’

  ‘All will become clear over the next few days.’

  ‘How come? You know precious little about the biology of these things.’

  ‘We are learning, Mason. Bit by bit.’

  ‘And I’m a bit you’re going to learn from, aren’t I?’ Anger surged through me. ‘You’re going to watch everything I do.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘That and more. But I’m prepared to offer up my life for the preservation of our society. What will you offer?’

  ‘If I go along with this, what happens to me?’

  ‘Mason Konrad is already dead.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Now that did take some digesting.

  Dr Saffrey continued briskly, ‘The media have reported that you killed your neighbours in Tanshelf when you lost your sanity. By the time the police arrived at your home you’d already turned the gun on yourself.’

  ‘Now, wait one minute—’

  ‘There are eye-witnesses. Your body, or someone who resembled you exactly, was discovered in your home with lethal gunshot wounds.’

  ‘No way.’ My voice rose. ‘You’re not taking my identity away from me.’

  ‘It’s already gone. Don’t fight it. Eve has surrendered hers, too. When this is all over you will be resettled under the good offices of the witness protection programme with new names. Even though the circumstances are different the WPP is good at giving people a new life.’

  I began to speak but the doctor held up her hand. ‘I know you could ask me questions for the next week, but I have things to do and you’ll need to settle into your new quarters. Tomorrow our people will start work. The experiments the Echomen conducted at the old school were clearly designed to expand their capabilities. What you can tell us will be invaluable. Clearly, your capacity, Mason, for transforming people into Echomen, even if it is involuntary, is so potent I can’t risk you coming into contact with any of my staff. I’ll show you to the Rose Garden myself.’

  ‘Wait a moment, why are you so sure whatever I carry won’t affect you?’

  A smile touched her lips. ‘I’ve been around Echomen for longer than you can imagine. If they haven’t transformed me now, I figure I must be immune. Step this way, please.’

  chapter 35

  Rose Garden. Ah … the name suggests romance. Then doesn’t every new romance contain a hidden promise of nightmare? I married the blowtorch murderer… My girlfriend confessed to being a witch … On my honeymoon I discovered my gal is really a guy … Hell’s bells. This situation does that to you. Gets you paranoid. Makes you suspect your own shadow has homicidal intentions.

  When Dr Saffrey showed us through the door in the wall with the words, ‘This is the Rose Garden. Make yourself at home in the cottage,’ it was a warm, sunlit place, a pink sea of roses that released a delicate perfume into the evening air. What nicer place to walk hand-in-hand with the one you love. Only the girl I walked with was a female version of me. And I’ve been through the Freudian hog-slosh before. I did not love Madeline. I was not sexually attracted by her. OK, maybe a little when I first met the woman, but not now. No way! I felt a responsibility, toward the woman. What’s more, she’d saved Eve’s life back when the Echomen flooded what had been an empty swimming pool.

  ‘Why weren’t you here earlier?’ A small guy with a shaved head furiously swept the path with a long-handled broom. He wore brown corduroy trousers with brown lace up shoes that were surprisingly glossy. On his top half, a blue jacket from a business suit that was way too big for him. It flapped like a sheet on a washing line as he attacked fallen leaves with the broom. ‘I’m hungry. I’ve had to wait for supper because you didn’t come. And now the rose petals keep dropping off and I have to keep sweeping them up. Eddie, you won’t get any supper if you don’t keep the paths clean. Eddie, sweep the steps. Have you polished the brass yet? Eddie, you swear too much.’ He’d changed his voice for the last part of his speech into something resembling the scolding tones of a schoolteacher.

  Madeline said, ‘We’re sorry. We didn’t know you were waiting for us.’

  ‘I’m taking care of you.’ He chased pink petals against the wall, then instead of picking them up stamped them furiously into soil. ‘I’ve got to take care of you ’cos the others are scared of you two. I’m not scared of you. You don’t know what I can do. I’m strong, me. I could scare you if I wanted.’

  I tried to put the angry little man at ease. ‘We’ll be no trouble.’

  ‘Better not be.’ Grumpily, he dead-headed a rose, then thrust the dead blossom into his jacket pocket.

  ‘This is Madeline,’ I told him. ‘I’m Mason.’

  ‘All the chocolate in the drawer is mine – you’re not to touch it.’

  ‘We won’t get in your way; besides, we’ll only be here a couple of days.’

  ‘That’s what they said to me. I’ve been here weeks. They make me do all the work. If it wasn’t for me the place would fall to pieces. Do you know how many times I’ve swept up the rose petals today? Four times. Four! Can you believe it? You never see them lah-di-dahs come out here and help.’ His bottom lip pushed out as a sulk took him. ‘It’s just not fair. No supper, either. Not till you get here, they said. And you’re late!’

  ‘Sorry.’ Madeline smiled. ‘Can we do anything to help?’

  ‘You can keep your thieving hands of that chocolate. It’s mine.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘Right. I’ve got to show you stuff.’ He thrust his hands into his jacket pockets then stomped along the path between the rose beds. Any suggestion of seriousness on his part tended to be robbed by the fact that the jacket was so long he couldn’t put both hands into his pockets at the same time. So, as he walked, he dropped one shoulder then the other in an attempt to keep the hands lodged there. ‘Bloody roses,’ he grumbled. ‘Bloody, damn, crap roses. It’s not fair.’

  The rose garden was perhaps as large as two tennis courts side by s
ide. Surrounding it, a brick wall at least twelve feet high. In the setting sun the brick had pink and orange tints that were as every bit warm as the roses. Like I said, in happier times a lovely place for a romantic stroll. On the other side of the wall I could see the top floors of the safe house occupied by Eve, Dr Saffrey and the rest. As far as I could tell, the only entrance to the rose garden had been the formidable timber door we’d just passed through. At the far side of the garden was a row of four stables with pale-green doors. Their red brickwork merged with that of the wall. And built into a corner of the garden was a small cottage with a single chimney protruding from its roof.

  ‘You live there.’ The man pointed at the cottage. ‘You’ll have the bedrooms. I sleep downstairs on the sofa. And that sofa’s mine. Only I can use it.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr—?’

  ‘Mister!’ He made a high-pitched bark of a sound. ‘Mister? Nobody’s ever called me mister. I’m Eddie.’

  I lagged behind on the path so I could whisper to Madeline as he marched off ahead with that odd seesaw gait as he tried, but failed, to keep both hands in his pockets at once.

  ‘Madeline. Didn’t Dr Saffrey tell us we’d be in quarantine?’ I nodded at the angry figure stomping toward the stables. ‘Strange kind of quarantine if we’re Eddie’s houseguests?’

  Eddie turned to scowl from beneath eyebrows that were as bristly as his broom. ‘What’s that you’re saying about me?’

  ‘We’re not talking about you, Eddie,’ I said. ‘Dr Saffrey told us we’d be alone in the Rose Garden.’

  ‘Alone? Ha! Yeah, right. Alone as I’ve been for the last week.’ He shook his head. ‘They keep bringing in more and more of you. At this rate I’m going to have to put up tents over these roses to keep you all in. Do you remember what I told you about the chocolate?’

  ‘It’s all yours.’

  ‘And don’t you forget it. Hurry up. I’m ready for my supper. It’s not fair they’ve made me wait. Eddie, make the guests welcome. Be sure they get enough to eat. Give them clean bedding.’ A crafty expression stole over his face. ‘Eddie, be sure to tell … to inform them that it is your chocolate. They must not touch it.’

  Instead of leading us to the cottage Eddie headed for the stables with the green doors. ‘I’ve been told to show you these,’ he told us. ‘Why it couldn’t wait, I don’t know. But it’s either do this or no supper. And I’m starving. Do you know how many times I’ve cleaned up the crapping rose petals today? There’s millions of them. It’s not as though anyone comes to look at them. One bit of a wind and whoosh them crapping petals drop off. And you know who cleans ’em all up? Eddie, sweep the paths. Eddie, clean the windows. Eddie, wash the clothes.’ That haughty schoolmistress voice again.

  ‘You’ve got horses?’ Madeline asked, as we crossed the gravel to the doors.

  ‘Horses? Why do we need horses?’ He took his hands out of his jacket pockets so he could pull back the steel bolts. ‘Pets for them lah-di-dahs indoors? More work for Eddie to do.’ He pushed out his bottom lip. ‘It’s not fair. Watch your faces – these things swing back.’ After snapping back the bolts he violently yanked at the upper-half of the door.

  ‘This one’s poorly,’ he said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘And it’s all your fault.’ The moment Eddie crashed the upper-half of the timber door back against the wall a figure sprang from the shadows. The face that shot toward me was easy enough to recognize.

  Me. Some mutant copy of me anyway. Madeline pushed herself between me and the man who howled in rage.

  Eddie smiled for the first time. ‘Watch it. He’s a biter.’

  The man caught Madeline by the hair; she screamed as he dragged her toward him; his mouth opened so he could sink his teeth into her face. Despite the gloomy interior of the stables I saw that steel bars caged the man. He had to wait until he brought the woman’s face closer before he could start ripping flesh with his teeth. I slammed the heel of my hand through the gap of the bars into his forehead. With a hard shove I pushed his face back. At the same time I tugged Madeline away. She screamed as a clump of her dark hair ripped away.

  A second later I’d hauled her back ten paces. Then I turned on Eddie. ‘Why didn’t you warn us!’

  He blinked in surprise. ‘He’s a biter, I said. It’s you two nitwits that got too close.’

  ‘Do you know who he is?’

  ‘That’s Corporal Naylor. He doesn’t like being in there.’

  ‘Didn’t anyone tell you Echomen are dangerous?’ Instead of waiting for a reply, I checked Madeline as she pressed her palm to the side of her head. ‘It doesn’t look bad,’ I reassured her. ‘But we’ll get something for it. They must have a first-aid station here if it’s a military base.’

  ‘If she wants first aid I’m getting some supper first. I’ve been waiting ages. If they don’t, I’m eating that chocolate, rules or no rules; it’s not fair that—’

  ‘Shut up.’ My tone stung him so much tears appeared in his eyes. ‘Why are they keeping an Echoman here?’

  He took a step back as if afraid I might hit him.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Madeline said gently. ‘We won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Don’t bet on it.’ I shot him a look that he must have recognized as being downright evil because his eyes widened in fear. ‘You’re certain he’s secure in there?’

  ‘Bars,’ was the only word Eddie could manage with his eyes all huge and watery looking.

  I took a step forward, wary lest the guy charged the stable door again. In the gloomy interior of the stable that had been converted into a prison cell an Echoman stood hunched in the centre; his eyes blazed at me with a kind of lusting hatred.

  ‘Corporal Naylor?’

  He flinched. ‘Look what you did to me! Bastard!’ Saliva sprayed from his mouth.

  I remembered what the doctor had told us. ‘You helped carry me into the house.’

  ‘And see the thanks I got.’ His words came in a series of barks. The man suffered, yet it wasn’t pain.

  Madeline stood beside me, resting her hand on my forearm so as to gain some reassurance from touch. ‘He looks exactly like you. Transformation is faster than before.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah! You infected me.’ Naylor lurched forward to strike the cell bars. ‘And he’s done the same to you, hasn’t he, miss?’

  The ‘miss’ sounded at odds with his anger. I sensed he battled with what had been a crushing invasion of his personality.

  ‘Corporal Naylor hasn’t been defeated yet,’ I murmured. ‘He’s fighting it.’

  ‘Yes, I’m fighting it. What the fuck do I want to become you for? I never asked for it. I don’t want your face imposed on my skull.’ He raked his left cheek with his fingernails. Four bloody furrows streaked the flesh. ‘I’ll rip this face off with my own hands if I have to. Because you know something? My face – my real face is still under this mask. I believe that. Soon I’ll prove it. OK?’

  Madeline trembled.

  Naylor noticed her fear with some satisfaction. ‘I know about Echomen. I’ve been killing them for six months. Echomen are ordinary people who catch a kind of bug that changes them into clones of carriers of the bug. You’re a carrier, Mason. You infected me when I helped you into the house. And you must have infected the lady at some point, because though she’s still a lady – a fuck-some fine lady – she’s got your face on her head; like I’ve got your face on my head, and like hundreds of other people have got your face on their heads. You with me so far?’ He stepped into the light of the setting sun. Face-wise he was exactly the same as me. As for the body he’d got the anatomy of a body-builder. This was a man who was an obsessive weight-lifter. Knots of muscle the size of grapefruit bulged in his arms. The pair of hands that came up to grip the steel bars could snap Madeline’s neck like a cracker.

  ‘But you listen to this,’ he growled. ‘Echomen are changing. Your lady there isn’t like the sort I blew to shit with my Uzi. Echomen change inside here as well as turning
clone.’ He screwed his finger against his head. ‘They get a new instinct to kill anyone who isn’t an Echoman. But your lady-clone isn’t like that. She’s not programmed to kill humans. Isn’t that right, lover girl? You’ve been given another role to perform.’ The muscles bunched in his forearms as he squeezed the bars as if squeezing the woman’s neck. ‘You know I’m telling the truth, Mason. Madeline’s no human bitch; she’s not like the other Echo bitches, either. She’s got her own little fucking plan. A fucking plan that she’ll spring on you, Mason, when she’s good and ready. Ha!’ He head-butted the bars. The clang made Madeline flinch against me. Blood dribbled down Naylor’s forehead as he screamed with glee. ‘And when I get out of here I’m going to rip your faces off! There’s only going to be one face like this.’ He slapped his jaw. ‘And it’s going to be this one. D’ ya hear me, Mason! I’m going to peel you like an orange. You fuck—’

  The upper half of the stable door swung shut.

  ‘Eddie, I—’