Alexander Smith: Lockdown

It was a fairly old house, but well taken care of and the stairs didn't creak once as I made my way up. I swung my light to and fro to see where I was going, the shadows seeming to dance in front of me like there was an army of goblins hiding in the corners and behind the furniture. I swallowed hard as I neared the top, cursing my imagination.

There were six doors on the long landing, all closed. Carefully twisting the handle of the first, I found myself staring into a pristine white bathroom. The second door opened outward, revealing an empty closet. Well, almost empty-as I was closing the door something rushed at me out of the darkness, slapping me on the forehead. I just about screamed, fighting off my attacker before realizing it was a mop. Shoving it back inside, I kicked the closet shut, no longer caring about noise, and walked past a small chest of drawers to the next door.

Third time lucky, as they say. This one opened into a large room with a desk against one wall. I made my way straight to it and couldn't believe my eyes. On its walnut surface lay a stack of ten-and twenty-pound notes plus several bags full of coins-what must have been a couple of grand in all.

It was as I was reaching for the cash, a massive grin on my face, that I heard the sound of screaming from downstairs.

I froze, my skin turning to ice, my scalp seeming to shrivel up so tightly that it hurt. The house wasn't empty. Toby had been rumbled by what sounded like a very shocked woman, which meant he'd make for the nearest exit. I, on the other hand, was stuck up here. I snatched the notes and stuffed them into my pocket.

When the shrieks started again, I realized I'd got it wrong. It wasn't the owner screaming-it was Toby.

But the shock of that was nothing compared to the fright I got when I turned around. In the shadows behind the office door, right in front of me, was an enormous figure. A man whose black suit blended perfectly with the walls, but whose two glinting eyes and vast, sinister grin shone out of the darkness like those of a shark in the cold, dead water of the ocean.

I DON'T NEED TO tell you what I did next. I ran, straight for the open door. But the figure was too quick, slamming it shut and reaching out toward me with an arm the size of a tree trunk. I ducked but he moved like lightning, grabbing the flashlight from my fist and throwing it at the wall. It smashed as it hit a shelf, plunging the room into darkness.

Well, almost darkness. All I could see as I backed away from the man were his eyes, which still stood out from the shadows like two silver coins. They followed me each time I made a move, never blinking and so bright that they seemed to burn right into my soul.

I had to get out of the room. I had no idea who this guy was but I was in his house and, judging by the size of him, he could turn me inside out without breaking a sweat. I was wondering whether I could leap through the window without killing myself when he spoke.

"Where you gonna run to?" he said, his voice so deep that it sent a vibration through the floorboards. "I can see you, Alex."

My heart seemed to stop for an instant as I heard my name. He couldn't know who I was. There was no way. We lived more than a mile away and we never came to this part of town unless we were hitting a house. Then it struck me. He was a cop. He'd been following Toby and me after a previous job and had framed us by setting up this house as bait.

The thought filled me with panic. At last, the thing I never thought would happen was finally happening-I was about to be busted. Another ear-piercing scream penetrated the room from downstairs. What the hell were the police doing to Toby? I suddenly wished I was back at home, tucked away in bed and dreaming, wished I had never stolen that money from Daniel Richards. And I knew that if I didn't make it out of this room, I wouldn't be back in my own bed for months, maybe years.

I fingered the money in my pocket, realizing how pathetic I was to risk everything for a few hundred quid-money that would be useless behind bars. But maybe it could prove useful here. Grabbing as many of the notes as I could, I wrenched them from my pocket and threw them at the man. I didn't wait to see what effect they'd have, but dived to the floor, rolling under his reach and scrambling to my feet on the other side of the room.

I couldn't see the door: it was too dark. I slapped my hands furiously against the wall, knowing that I had only seconds before I felt the cop's huge hand on my shoulder. But there was nothing there except shelves and books. Risking a look behind me, I saw the man's two disembodied eyes race across the room, and it was all I could manage not to collapse to the floor screaming.

Just as he was above me, however, my hand hit the doorframe. Reaching across, I felt the handle and twisted it, ripping the door open so hard that it almost came off its hinges. It struck the man square in the face, but his only response was to laugh-a deep, grating rumble that followed me out onto the landing.

"Run, Alex, run, Alex, run, run, run," came his voice as I felt my way toward the stairs. What the hell was going on? What kind of cop would say that?

I was running too fast and tripped on the top stair, almost plunging into darkness before I managed to get a hold on the banister. I tried to plan my escape route as I descended. Obviously the room we came in through was now a no-go area-I had no intention of meeting whoever was in there with Toby. There was the front door, which lay directly ahead of the stairs, or I could try to find my way to the back of the house. Either way, I wouldn't get far in the dark.

As it turned out, though, it wasn't the dark that got me. Almost as soon as I propelled myself from the bottom step every light in the house was switched on simultaneously. I gasped and pressed my hands to my eyes, momentum flinging me into a wall. The illumination had completely thrown me, filling my head with stars and causing me to lose my bearings.

I squinted against the glare to see that the hall was empty. A quick glance at the front door told me there were too many locks to force it open, so I started running toward the back, hoping for a quick exit.

I couldn't tell you what happened next. I'm not sure if it was the fact that my eyes hadn't adjusted to the light, or if fear and adrenaline did something to my brain, but it was as if a figure simply stepped from the wall. One minute my path was clear, the next it was blocked by another mountainous man-so wide and so tall that he seemed to take up every centimeter of space.

I skidded to a halt, mouth agape. This man too was dressed in a slick black pinstriped suit, with a white shirt and black tie. He looked more like an undertaker than a cop. What scared me most about him, though, was his face. It seemed to be expressionless and grinning at the same time-his silver eyes staring down at me with unmistakable glee, like a boy about to squash a bug.

"Boo," he said, his thick voice just as deep and dangerous as that of the man upstairs.

I staggered backward, shaking my head. The man had left only one escape route-the way we'd come in. I bolted through the sitting room door, ready to fling myself screaming from the window. But what I saw in that room drained the strength from my body, turning my legs to jelly. It took everything I had to remain upright.

The room, which had been deserted less than five minutes ago, was now full of men. Each was almost identical in size, dwarfing the furniture and making the large space feel like a doll's house-each almost identical in looks too, like brothers. And they were all wearing the same immaculate black suits. I counted four in all, and the sound of footsteps behind me made it clear that the other two were in the hall.