It was a good morning, so far at least. Lindsay had woken feeling great after a terrific night’s sleep, although she vaguely remembered waking up at one point, but it obviously hadn’t affected her rest. She’d also called her psychologist’s office a quarter of an hour ago, guessing correctly that the receptionist would be there early, and had successfully changed her appointment to Friday after school. That only left the unenviable task of telling her dad she’d changed the appointment and explain why. Not a conversation she was looking forward to.
Roger chose that moment to come in from the back yard looking red faced and flustered.
“What’s wrong?” asked Lindsay.
“Damn cats in the yard last night. There’s trash everywhere,” he replied. “Looks like they worked their way through some of the neighbours yards too.”
“You want me to help clean it up.”
“No thanks sweetie, I got it. You want me to make you some breakfast?”
“No, I’ll have some cereal in a minute.” She took a slow, bracing breath. “Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Roger finished drying his hands and sat at the table opposite his daughter. To say he was worried would have been an understatement. “Is everything all right?” he asked, trying not to make his question sound too loaded.
“Lindsay nodded and smiled nervously. “I wanted to talk to you about my appointment with Maggie on Saturday.”
“What about it?”
“Hear me out before you get mad, okay?”
“Okay,” he said slowly, drawing the word out. He had a bad feeling about where this conversation was headed.
“Right, so I kind of changed my appointment from Saturday to Friday. I know you’ll be at work so you won’t be able to drive me, but I’ve been looking up the bus routes and I can get there by myself.” Lindsay paused to gauge his initial reaction.
Roger was relieved. He’d been so sure that Lindsay had cancelled her appointment completely. “Wait a second,” he said, his relief becoming short-lived. “Why do you need to change your appointment?”
“That’s the other thing,” she began hesitantly. “Some people from school are going to Hamilton on Saturday and I was wondering if I could go with them?”
“You want me to let you go out of town by yourself?”
“Not by myself. With people from school.” Lindsay was perched precariously on a branch of lies and half-truths where her father was concerned lately and she was beginning to sense the cracks forming beneath their weight.
“Would Simon be one of these people?” he asked, trying for casual, but the underlying implication was clear.
“Yes, he would,” she said, ignoring his inference. “Is that a problem?”
Was it? Simon seemed like a good kid, if a little bit of a clown. Was Roger being overprotective again? Probably. “Honey, I’m not entirely comfortable with this. What if something happens?”
“Dad, please? Hamilton isn’t that far really and if there’s any trouble I’ll call you straight away.” His approval would only be a formality, although one she’d prefer to have. Lindsay had already decided to go, with or without his permission. She had to. Her life and quite possibly the lives of everyone else in the world depended on it. Overdramatic maybe, but true. “How am I supposed to make friends if I’m never allowed to go anywhere?”
She had him and they both knew it. “How about you let me know who else is going on this excursion and I promise to think about it?”
“Thanks Dad,” she hugged him.
“I haven’t said yes yet,” he said.
“I know, but you will.”
─
The woman’s sensible blouse, skirt and tailored jacket ensemble were at odds with the large, chunky rubber boots on her feet, but as far as she was concerned, practicality beat out style every time. With a large bound folder under one arm and a black leather case in her opposite hand, she marched the short distance from her car to the trailer and rapped sharply on the door.
“Come in.”
The woman stepped into the trailer. “Mr Farrell, my name is Angela Gilroy. I have been sent at the behest of Mr Hooper regarding the situation here in Hobbes Falls,” she said curtly. “Might I sit?”
“Sure.” Jim quickly removed the stack of teetering files from the spare chair. “If Mr Hooper sent you, does that mean that you’re a member of the Brotherhood?”
“Of course Mr Farrell. Just because the name is outdated and misogynistic, doesn’t mean the organisation hasn’t moved with the times. I think you’d be surprised at just how many female members the Brotherhood actually has.”
Jim was ashamed that he was surprised they had any at all. So much for being an enlightened man. “What is it I can do for you Ms Gilroy?” he asked.
“You requested a qualified psychiatrist, did you not?” She reached into her black leather case, pulled out a sheet of crisp white paper and handed it to Jim. “A list of my qualifications. I believe you’ll find them satisfactory. I have also brought the in-depth background check on your architect, Mr Hayward.”
“That was quick,” said Jim as he then took the bound folder from her outstretched hand.
“We don’t dally when there is a potential threat to the project Mr Farrell.”
“I see that. Have you read what’s in here?”
“I am aware of the folder’s contents and in the interest of time I shall summarise. Mr Hayward is exactly who he appears to be, a widowed, single father and an extremely gifted and reputable architect. There are no indications that he has any affiliations or sympathetic beliefs with any of our competitors.”
“Good to know.”
“Now that the initial briefing is out of the way, I should like to get to work. I will be requiring a workspace with adequate privacy, preferably somewhere nearer to the actual project.” Ms Gilroy stood and tugged at the hem of her jacket, straightening it in one swift movement. “I shall return in two hours. I expect you to have made sufficient arrangements by then.”
“Of course.” Jim showed her to the door and watched as she marched back to her car. Something tells me that woman is going to be a whole mess of trouble, he thought.
─
Lindsay ignored the now typical stares from her fellow students, her concentration focused on finding Drew before the bell rang in about ten minutes. She was also trying, unsuccessfully, not to think about the repercussions when it inevitably got back to Becky.
She found Drew with five minutes to spare, sat on one of the tables near the edge of the parking lot, thoughtfully strumming on his guitar. Lindsay watched for a minute, fascinated by how engrossed he was to the exclusion of the rest of the world around him. She hated having to disturb that.
“Drew?” she called hesitantly.
He immediately stopped strumming. “Lindsay, hey. What are you doing here? I didn’t think we were allowed to converse in public?”
That damn charming grin of his. It sent flutters through her chest every time. “I need to talk to you about Saturday.”
“You’re here to cancel.” It was a statement. “I’m actually surprised it took you this long. So, what completely irrational excuse are you going to use?”
Drew’s tone wasn’t annoyed or accusing and somehow that made Lindsay feel worse. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I really did want to spend the day with you.”
“However?”
“There’s a man in Hamilton I have to meet…with Simon Spencer. I can’t tell you what it’s about, but it’s very important.”
Drew held up a hand, silencing her. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. If you say it’s important I believe you.”
“Thanks.” She stood, awkwardly searching for something else to say, but nothing more came. “Okay, bye then.”
“Lindsay?”
“Yeah?”
“You and Simon…”
“Are just friends,” she told him again.
“I was going to ask if you and Simon needed a ride on Saturday.”
“Oh.” Heat spread through her face and wished the ground would open up and swallow her, quickly taking it back when it occurred to her that it actually might. “Um, I think we were going to take the bus.”
Drew bit his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning at Lindsay’s nervous floundering, not because he found it funny, but because he thought it was cute. He thought she was cute. “If I drive you there it would cut your journey time in half, which would mean you could get your important thing done quicker and perhaps we’d have some time to hang out?”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“You’re not asking,” he replied. “I’m offering.”
The school bell rang, bringing their conversation to an end.
“It’s settled then. Let me know when and where to pick you up.” Drew packed up his guitar and started inside. “You coming?”
“I’ll be along in a minute,” said Lindsay. She waited until he was far enough ahead that there was no chance of her catching him up and then made her own way towards the building.
The hallways were still crowded despite the bell having already rung. Lindsay dodged and weaved her way through, heading for homeroom.
Lindsay.
The unexpected voice brought her to an abrupt halt. Goosebumps prickled her arms as she remembered the first time she’d heard that ethereal voice calling to her.
Lindsay.
Louder this time. More insistent. Lindsay scanned her surroundings, searching for the source. Overhead the hallway lights flickered maniacally. “Okay, I get it,” she muttered under her breath. “Where are you?”
The door to the girl’s bathroom banged loudly, startling several nearby students. Lindsay hurried to meet her ghostly summoner.
Lauren stood in front of the large mirror, staring at her lack of reflection. “Thank you for coming,” she said, her saddened eyes tearing away from the mirror to look at Lindsay. “I wasn’t sure that you would.”
Lindsay made a quick point of double checking all the bathroom stalls were empty before answering. “Like I had much of a choice with the Casper routine. What do you want Lauren?”
“I know you told me to stay away from you and I don’t blame you after what happened, but I had to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?” Lindsay’s scepticism was clear.
“I know you’re planning to meet a man on Saturday. You can’t go. It’s too dangerous,” said Lauren.
“You obviously didn’t get the memo that I’m dangerous too. In fact, according to you, I’m the most dangerous person on the planet, seeing as I’m going to be the one to end it and all.”
Lauren flinched inwardly at Lindsay’s bitterness. “I overheard the Elders talking. They found out about this meeting and it’s got them worried.”
“And that’s supposed to make me not want to go? They want me dead. The fact that they’re worried makes me even more determined to go,” she said. “Now if you don’t mind, some of us still have to class and I’m late.”
It was pure nastiness, she knew that, but Lindsay couldn’t help herself. She spun on her heel and stormed out of the girl’s bathroom and straight into Simon.
“Whoa, slow down girl-on-a-mission,” he said, catching hold of her arm and pulling her aside.
“Why are you lurking outside the girl’s bathroom?” she asked.
“I have to tell you something and I wanted to do it before I chickened out.”
“Why do I get the feeling my day is about to get even worse?” she muttered.
Simon found something interesting to look at on the tip of his scuffed sneakers, something that was far from Lindsay’s scrutinising glare. “Quick heads up about Saturday, Toyah will be joining us.”
“What?” Lindsay was right, her day was going to hell at a disturbingly rapid pace. “How did that happen?”
Simon shrugged. “She kind of just invited herself. I am so sorry.”
Lindsay gave a shrug of her own. “I suppose in keeping with the spirit of our moment of honesty I ought to tell you Drew’s going to be driving us.”
“How did that happen?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
Drew, Toyah and a man a bunch of ghosts didn’t want her to meet. Yeah, this trip was going to be awesome.
─
Roger sat in his trailer. All his furniture, sparse as it was, had been rearranged to face the small tinted window that faced out at the building. In fact, during his first week he’d asked for the trailer to be moved so he could be closer. The site foreman at the time, Roger couldn’t even remember his name now, had looked at him as if he was crazy.
Maybe he was.
The walkie-talkie on his desk blared to life, startling him. “Roger, come in. We need you out here asap. Over,” Jim’s static crackled voice said with some urgency.
“I’m on my way,” Roger replied, pulling on his jacket as he ran out the door.
A crowd had gathered several feet from the half constructed building and all work seemed to have ceased. Another accident he assumed and as he made his way through the gathered workers, he saw he was right.
Jim, Don and Garrett stood grimly watching as the site medic attended to a shaking figure lying on the ground. Roger stepped closer and recognised the man on the ground as Hector Alvarez, a man he’d eaten lunch with a couple of times. Hector’s hands had already been wrapped in gauze, but his face was still untreated and Roger flinched at the sight of Hector’s bloody, blistered face.
“What happened?” asked Roger.
Jim indicated for him to follow, so they could speak away from the worried yet curious crowd. The two men walked side by side towards the building that had caused so much suffering.
“What happened?” Roger repeated.
“I don’t know,” said Jim, rubbing a hand along the side of his tired, ragged face. This project was seriously starting to age him. “I asked some of the men working nearest to Hector and they said that all of a sudden he started screaming. When they got to him both his hands and face were burned, as you saw. Nobody has any idea how it happened, although Vince Freeman thought for a second that the crossbeam Hector was working on felt hot.”
“Hot? Was he working with a welding torch up there or any power tools?” asked Roger.
Jim shook his head. “No, he was installing the frames for the refracting panels and that’s a hand tools only job.”
Roger shielded his eyes against the mid-morning sun and looked up at where poor hector had been injured. He felt the gentle tug of the building reaching out for him, willing him closer. “I’m going to go up and take a look,” he told Jim.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“It’ll be fine.”
Jim watched Roger leave, wandering along dreamily like a man possessed.
“The ambulance is here,” said Don, joining his boss now that he’d finished his chat with the architect. “Where’s Hayward going?”
“Up there,” Jim nodded up at the building.
“Is he nuts? Hector almost died up there.”
“Which should make the next few minutes very interesting.”
Roger reached out and touched the criss-cross of metal beams that made up part of the building’s unusual foundations. A tingling rush of recognition spread along his arm. “Let’s see what’s got you all worked up,” he said. Stooping to pick up a dropped tool belt, Roger strapped it around his waist and began to climb the scaffolding that encased the entire building.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the crossbeam where Hector had been working. There was no caution or worry that what had happened to Hector might happen to him as Roger reached out to the thin, silver frame that hung precariously in place by thin wires. The metal was cool to the touch.
He pulled out a screwdriver and screw and leaned out to fix the swaying frame into place against the angled roof beam. Violent buzzing erupted inside his head as the two pieces of metal neared each other. Roger released the frame, letting it jerk back to its original position and the buzzing automatically ceased. “Hmm, that’s not right,” he muttered.
Close your eyes.
The voice didn’t startle him. He’d heard it before several times, usually when an inexplicable problem arose, and it always somehow guided him through. The voice was soft and melodic inside his head and, although he could not be certain, Roger likened it to his late wife Lily’s voice. It made sense. If his subconscious was going to invent a voice to guide him, of course it would be Lily’s.
Close your eyes.
He did as he was told. Again the familiar tingling spread through Roger’s body, this time coupled with the sensation of another presence directing his movements. His hand reached forward, seemingly of its own accord, and began to feel along the edge of the silver frame until he felt an almost imperceptible dip.
“Damn.” Roger opened his eyes to look. The metal edge had warped slightly. Thankfully it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed by a very careful hand. The refracting panels were the most important piece of the entire structure and if the frames were not exactly at the correct angles then the entire project would be ruined, at least that’s the way Jim told it. Roger tied a piece of orange tape to the warped area, marking it out for repair.
He made a move to begin his descent down the scaffolding and then stopped. There was still something wrong, he felt it in his gut.
Move the frame, the voice whispered.
“I can’t,” Roger spoke aloud. “The plans are exact. I measured everything myself just to be sure.”
The plans are wrong, the voice insisted. Just move the frame one fraction of a degree. Trust me.
Roger’s hesitation lasted less than a second before he erased the carefully measured marks he’d made previously with new, slightly adjusted ones. It would be fine. He had listened to the voice’s suggestions before and none of the other small changes he’d made at its urging had led to disaster, if anything they had solved several problems.
“I’ll be damned,” said Don as Roger climbed down, apparently unscathed.
Jim watched on in silence.
─
“How did that happen?” Toyah asked after her brother filled her in on the newest addition to their trip. “I guess Drew Blackwell must really dig the crazy.”
“If you’re set on coming with me and Lindsay on Saturday you might want to practice being nice, or at the very least civil,” Simon told her.
“I can be nice,” she said, narrowing her eyes in response to Simon’s sceptical look. “I can.”
“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” he said wickedly and pointed over her shoulder.
Becky Dobson walked through the quad like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her ‘royal guard’ Sarah and Karen followed along, one on either side as per usual. It wasn’t necessary for her and her entourage to pass by the tables where, as Becky referred to them, the social undesirables liked to sit, but their irritation amused her.
“Hey Becks, how’s it going?” Toyah called out in a syrupy, over-friendly voice.
“What are you doing?” Simon muttered.
“Practicing being nice,” she replied, anything but innocently.
Becky wandered closer to her nemesis, curious yet also highly suspicious. “Something I can help you with? Besides your desperate need for fashion advice obviously.”
Toyah’s teeth clenched, but she bit back her automatic scathing retort and smiled widely. “Have you ever considered that maybe I’m attempting to extend an olive branch here?”
“Oh please,” said Becky. “The only time you would extend any kind of branch it would be because you were going to stab me with it.”
“Well they do say straight through the heart is the best way to take out a soul sucking monster, assuming you can hit a target that’s almost non-existent.”
“This is you being nice?” asked Simon.
Toyah shrugged. “Hey, I gave it a shot.”
Becky’s face flushed. “You are so going to pay for that. I will make your life at this school a living hell.”
“It’s school moron, by definition it’s a living hell.”
Karen stepped forward. “By the time we’re finished with you no one outside of your band of freaks will give you the time of day.”
“Damn, no more scintillating conversations with my fellow classmates. I’m crushed.”
“You will be,” said Sarah.
Toyah stood up, ignoring the minions, and faced off with Becky. Simon scrambled off the bench ready to intervene if necessary. “Do you honestly think your threats have any credibility? You’re a joke and the sad thing is you don’t even realise it.”
“Is that so?”
“I think so, but just to be sure when I go to Hamilton with Drew and the new girl on Saturday I’ll double check.”
“Toyah!” Simon cried. How had he not anticipated this, although deep down he knew he really had.
“You’re lying,” said Becky.
Toyah laughed. “Am I?”
A cruel smile twisted itself onto Becky’s face. “Come on girls,” she said to her entourage, “Let’s get out of here. The view is starting to make me sick.”
“I can’t believe Becky Dobson just walked away from an argument,” said Toyah.
“How could you do that?” demanded Simon, wheeling on his sister.
“What?” Toyah replied. “Becky had it coming.”
“No, actually she didn’t. You just wanted to screw with her and you threw my friend under the bus to do it.” Simon grabbed up his bag.
“Where are you going?”
“To go look out for my friend,” he told her and walked away.
─
Becky’s pace was furious as she stormed the school searching for Lindsay. People who saw her coming quickly moved aside, not wanting to be swept up in her tidal wave of wrath, and peered after her as she passed curious over who was about to have said wrath brought down upon them.
Lindsay was headed for her locker when she was blindsided by a whirl of hair, perfume and anger. Becky’s taloned fingernails sunk into Lindsay’s arm, trapping it in vice-like grip, and dragged her along the corridor. “Stay here,” Becky barked at Sarah and Karen.
The two girls stopped where they were, confused and a little hurt from the sudden exclusion, but as Becky’s best friends they did as they were told.
Lindsay was pulled into the girls’ bathroom and she managed a quick second to wonder when bathrooms had become the go-to setting for the majority of her dramas lately.
“Shut up,” said Becky before Lindsay could utter a single syllable. “I don’t want to hear one word out of your skank mouth. It might have been acceptable back in New York to steal other people’s boyfriends, but not here. Not my boyfriend.”
Lindsay kept quiet even though she was desperate to point out the major flaw in Becky’s argument.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the fiery tempered girl continued, “Drew’s not actually my boyfriend, but that’s only a technicality. One I plan to take care of on Saturday.”
“What?” Lindsay blurted as a huge, knowing weight settled over her.
“You’ve just invited me to join your little trip this weekend. I know you must be as thrilled about it as I am.”
You have no idea, Lindsay thought bitterly.
“I’ll expect all the relevant details by the end of the day,” Becky said brightly.
Lindsay watched her check her flawless appearance in the bathroom mirror. It was so unfair how Becky bullied people into getting whatever she wanted. Lindsay’s hands clenched, her nails digging painfully into her palms. A small crack appeared in the corner of the large mirror. An almost inaudible screech accompanied it as the crack crept closer to the mirror’s centre. Lindsay watched it, fascinated by its jagged movements and willing it on, curious to see what would happen.
Exploding shards of glass piercing Becky’s unblemished skin. The image hit Lindsay like a sharp slap to the face. Her hands unclenched and the crack moved no further. Lindsay inhaled a breath and the reality of the situation.
I made that happen, she told herself. Somehow I made that mirror crack and if I hadn’t… Oh my God, I could have blinded Becky. Lindsay’s stomach lurched at how close she had come to hurting her. Until she found a way to control or get rid of this thing inside her, nobody in Lindsay’s life would be safe. This thought over all others finally resolved any lingering doubts over meeting the mysterious man from the internet and if she had to suffer the company of Becky Dobson, then so be it. It was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.
“Be at my house by nine o’clock on Saturday morning,” Lindsay said.
“Can’t wait,” Becky replied.
“I am so sorry.” Simon pounced on Lindsay as she exited the girls’ bathroom. “I should have known Toyah wouldn’t be able to control her big mouth. Are you okay? What happened?”
Lindsay gave him a wan smile. “For a start our trip has gained an extra person.”
Simon watched Becky strut triumphantly down the hall. “Serves Toyah right. Sucks for us though.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Lindsay. “If my dad doesn’t agree to let me go it won’t make a difference whether Becky goes or not.”
“He’ll say yes,” Simon assured her. “He has to.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Simon shrugged. “Kidnapping? I know two girls who wouldn’t object to throwing you into the back of an unmarked van.”
“Becky and Toyah are more likely to throw me out the back of a van, preferably while it’s travelling at high speed.”
“So you’re saying my plan needs work?”
“Maybe a little,” she laughed. What was it about Simon that he could drag her out of a funk with his goofball ramblings? She was lucky to have a friend like him to depend on. “I’ll call you later to see how postal your sister went after you tell her about Becky.”
“Screw that. Let her find out on the day,” he said.
─
Angela Gilroy stood outside the small trailer that had been assigned to her and stared across the construction site at the elegant framework of quite probably the most important building in the history of mankind. For something that when completed would focus such tremendous power, it was damned ugly.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Roger as he came out of his own trailer opposite and found her standing there.
“It’s definitely something,” she replied.
“You’re not part of the construction team are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” she asked.
“I’m Roger Hayward,” he said, diplomatically changing the subject. “Architectural advisor for the project.”
“Angela Gilroy,” she replied, gripping his hand firmly. “Actually, it’s fortunate us running into each other like this. I had been planning on tracking you down Mr Hayward.”
“You have? May I ask why?”
“I’m a psychiatrist retained by the organisation funding this project. They wanted a professional on site to help employees cope with the stress of longer hours and extra shifts, not to mention the unfortunate accidents that have plagued this venture thus far. I was hoping to use your objective perspective as a newcomer to help me identify anyone who might benefit from my expertise.”
“I think that’s a great idea. I have some free time right now,” said Roger.
“Unfortunately I have a rather busy schedule for the next few days,” said Ms Gilroy regrettably. “I know your own workload must be equally as demanding. How about we arrange something for the weekend?”
“Fine by me,” he said.
“Excellent. I shall consult my calendar and get back to you. It was very nice meeting you Mr Hayward.”
“Likewise Ms Gilroy.”