Birthdays for the dead

Alice barged past, going at full tilt, black hair streaming out behind her, red Hi-tops flashing in the gloom. Come back here!

McKenzie battered through the door at the end of the hall a glimpse of an old-fashioned kitchen and then out the back into the garden with Alice closing the gap.

Halfway down the hall I froze

Muffled screams came from behind one of the doors.

Katie.

It opened on a windowless corridor, the bare floorboards disappearing into darkness. A cord, hung from the ceiling I pulled it and an overhead strip-light blinked and flickered into life. The corridor took a right turn about four or five feet in, heading towards the back of the house. I limped up to the corner: another short length of corridor with a door at the far end.

Locked.

More screaming.

I braced myself against the wall, taking as much weight as I could on the walking stick, and kicked out with my left. Twice. Three times. On the fourth go the lock ripped its way free of the surround, and the door jerked open. The stench of rancid meat slithered out into the corridor.

Six stone steps led down to a large dirt-floored room, the walls covered with pink rockwool insulation. Not a basement at all, some sort of outbuilding. It was divided into small rooms by plasterboard-and-stud partitions that didn t go all the way up to the ceiling like the set of some twisted horror film. It was colder in here than outside; my breath fogged in front of my face.

I shoved my way into the middle room: where the screaming was coming from.

Megan Taylor froze. She was strapped into a wooden chair, legs fastened at the ankle with cable-ties, arms behind her back. Her eyes went wide, then the screaming got even louder.

It s OK: police. I m the police. I stuck the gun back in my waistband and limped over. Then stopped, turned, and looked back towards the door I d just come through. Oh shite

Megan wasn t the only one in here. A digital camera sat on a tripod, but behind that was another girl, tied to another chair. Blood covered every inch of skin where there was skin. Naked, head shaved, throat open in a thick dark slash.

My stomach churned.

It wasn t Katie. It was the girl in the photographs the ones on the SD card. What looked like an old kitchen table was against the other wall, its wooden surface laid out with knives and hammers and chunks of flesh.

Jesus

I backed up, knocked over the tripod. The camera crashed to the ground.

She d been here at least a week.

Behind me, Megan kept on screaming.

Alice. Shit Alice was chasing him on her own. I turned and yanked at the cable-ties holding Megan to the chair. Solid. I took one of the serrated knives from the table and hacked through the plastic. Dropped the knife at my feet. You re OK, it s over.

Megan tipped out of the chair and fell to the dirt floor, grabbed the knife, and scrambled back into the corner, holding the blade in both trembling hands, pointing it at my face.

I m not going to For fuck s sake, I don t have time for this shite! I backed out of the room, tried the one next door empty, except for the stains on the floor. The third one was the same.

Listen to me, Megan: I have to go. Someone s going to come for you, OK? I backed up the stairs and into the corridor. Try not to kill them.

I shoved through the back door into the garden. The pale looping bones of a giant honeysuckle loomed in the growing darkness. The garden wall was eight feet tall, red brick, with a gate at the bottom. A private entrance into Cameron Park. It hung open.

The wet grass grabbed at the walking stick as I lurched through into the park. Everything was jagged shadows and indistinct shapes in the gloom. I stopped No idea which way to go.

Shouts came from somewhere to the left. Hoy, you: come back here!

I limped past a copse of trees and there was one of the SOC marquees, glowing like a carnival, a cluster of white-suited techs standing around the entrance, a couple running off deeper into the park bobbing white shapes against the dark.

By the time I reached the tent, the crowd had thinned a bit

Alice was sitting on the grass, holding a hand to her head, someone on their knees beside her, stroking her back.

Where is he?

Alice looked up at me. One of her eyes was already starting to swell, the side of her mouth too a line of blood trickling down from a split bottom lip. I tried

The Scenes Examination Branch tech helped her to her feet, then ripped off his facemask revealing a huge moustache. Who the hell was that?

I pointed back the way I d come. House over there: gate s open. Megan Taylor s inside

The SEB tech stared at me.

Why are you still here? Go take care of her, you idiot! Call an ambulance, backup, preserve the scene. And watch out: she s got a knife. I hauled Alice to her feet.

Come on.