Justin Cairns - Little Red

***

Jack awoke in a puddle of his own vomit. His mind raced with questions as to how he ended up on the floor. The unconscious hour had passed slowly and his body felt weak, the alcohol began the slow process of evacuating his system. His head and neck throbbed; his shoulder offered a constant sharp pain. He pulled himself from the carpet and staggered to the chair; it spun to the side as he landed upon it, stopping the motion that caused the pounding in his skull to intensify. He rested upon the desk, unaware that it had been moved.

‘Jesus Jack, you fool!’ he mumbled.

***

Lime sat at an angle, his lady had not returned and he felt cheated. He contemplated ordering another drink but decided against it. His blood had been weakened by the liquid and dehydration had set in. He stood, setting his next destination as home and bed. The music decreased in volume as the door closed behind him, he staggered out onto the street, the cold breeze waking him up.

‘Jesus’ he shivered.

He watched as a black taxi passed by, he thought about calling one but decided that a walk may help sober him up. The night had closed in since he had been in the pub, still upset about the woman’s let down, he shuffled back to his flat, the collar of his suit jacket raised to protect his neck. The streets were quiet, the roads dead also. The nipping of falling snowflakes quickened his pace, the walk turned into a slow jog as he aimed to get away from the cold.

He pushed the glass door open and entered the new building where his flat was located. He sighed as he spotted the sign on the lift stating it was out of service.

‘Stairs it is then!’

Each step became harder, his legs feeling as though he had lead weights attached to them. His breath became sharper and his chest began to tighten under the strain. He wasn’t the fittest of men, he hardly trained and his figure was not that of an athlete. He kept climbing, passing the number of each level as he reached the platform. He reached the fourth floor, his temple echoed the rapid pulse from his heart as he leaned over to get his breath.

The flat door opened and crashed into the wall as William followed its momentum. His clothes were slowly removed and he shuffled to the bedroom with a t-shirt and underpants donned. The lamp at the entrance had been left on all day, results of his rushing around in the morning. The mattress was cold but he didn’t care. His head hit the pillow and he drifted into a dizzy state, afraid to open his eyes to the spinning room. Minutes had passed and he gradually fell asleep, snoring wildly.

***

Nathan walked slowly to the room, Richard assisted him when needed. He opened the door and switched the lighting on, the room was in a state, he had forgotten to tidy with the rush of the morning. Richard stood at the door as his friend shuffled in.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow Nathan, okay?’

‘Yeah, thanks mate’ he had no time for words, the real time felt like a dream, as if he were floating above himself, watching the conversation.

‘Cheers for tonight’ Richard raised a palm to his friend as he closed the door. He collapsed onto the bed and pulled at the sheets. His clothes were removed as if they were on fire, thrown to the floor quickly as the bed welcomed him. The light switch by the bed was flicked and the room turned black, his eyes were half closed as he was swallowed by the darkness.

Richard exited the building and climbed back into his vehicle. He checked the next address on the list, it was roughly ten minutes away using shortcuts. He brought the engine to life and began the journey, in the back of his mind he held concern for his new friend.

Chapter Twenty Two

The water brought life to his face, his reflection looked like an older version of himself. The skin appeared leathered, the wrinkles prominent. His eyes were dull, drawn deep into the back of his skull. He gazed into the glazed pupils, the black dot widened, the droplets snaked down his nose and dripped upon the sink. Jack stepped back, ashamed by his recent acts in the office. The memories came flooding back as he awoke from the short snooze upon his desk, his neck, sore from the fall, cracked when he tilted his head. He raised his chin, the skin on his throat slightly red, the scarring from the old suicide attempt still remained, barely visible and unnoticeable to anyone else. He shook the guilt free from his mind, no one had seen him, nobody knew of his selfish performance. He made a vow to the man looking back at him from the mirror, the vow to never drink again, to forget the past and move on with his life, a vow to do all that was possible to finish the man hunt and close the case. He headed back to the office, drying his hands and face with a paper towel. He rearranged the furniture that had been moved, he binned the empty bottle of whiskey, feeling sick at the sight of it. He opened the drawer and pulled out the compact sleeping bag, it had been there since the split with Helen, used when he needed a place to stay. It smelled of an old aftershave he used to wear.

The floor was by no means comfortable, but Jack decided to punish himself for the mockery he had taken part in whilst intoxicated. His coat made a suitable pillow and as the light was killed off he passed out, thoughts of things to come flooding his tired mind.

***

Richard stood at the door. The house seemed dead, no signs of life could be seen or heard. The estate seemed welcoming, trimmed bushes and leafless trees along the road side. This was one of the unsuspecting places where a beast could live, the outer shell creating a family environment, a place that held smiles and warm hugs. The inside, well, Nathan knew what to expect, he had seen it before on many other assignments. The spacious kitchen would harbour a large oak table, the units housing an array of machines to make fresh coffee and tasty snacks. The living room would be perfect for entertaining, a large LCD television, forty eight inches or so, used for a family film night, the large sofa capable of occupying several rears. The walls, cluttered with smiling photographs and holiday snaps, expensive art work in gorgeous frames.

He crept around the rear of the house, choosing the back door as a weak access point. He anticipated the building being alarmed with an up to date security system, it was. He located the fuse box, knowing what he had to look for. The small box was pulled free from its home; the white sticker upon it read Alarm. Obvious to his eyes but not so obvious to an untrained one. He closed the door of the fuse box and moved aside to face his entry point. He placed the bag down and removed a small contraption form his coat pocket. The lock-pick consisted of two pieces of long thin metal secured at one end. The shortest was pushed into the lock first, the other metal arm was bent to one side and slipped in above its counterpart, he twisted left and right slowly, attempting to click down each tumbler in the mechanism. The click told him he had succeeded. He removed the device and stashed it away for later. The knob was turned slowly and he entered the building.

The kitchen welcomed the waning moon as it peered through the open blinds. The lines of light revealed segments of his body as he sneaked through the room. The screwdriver extended from his hand, in anticipation that the occupant owned a pet that may want to confront him. Nothing had appeared yet so he hoped for the best. The interior was how he thought, minus the family snaps. This person was obviously not a recluse like the last two. The house held fine furniture and wall art, it was the type of building that Richard had hoped to get for him and Megan, a lovely place to raise a child.

He pushed through each room on the bottom floor, no one had been seen yet. He stood at the base of the stairs, the top floor sat in complete darkness. He removed his phone from his pocket and selected the torch accessory, the dim light guided a partial path up the stair. He stepped carefully, not wanting to create any noise. The hairs upon his neck stood to attention, the effect he suffered every time he entered an unknown house or building on his lonesome. He neared the top, the creak froze his body. Fuck . He stood still, cursing the stair in his mind. Nothing occurred, he pushed on. The landing led both left and right, he scanned each way with the phone, all seemed quiet. Deciding to move left first, he kept low and close to the wall to minimize his size. He passed the bathroom door, the white tiles glowed as the moons light filled the room. He turned his head to face the rear, making sure no one was behind him. Darkness followed his movement.