Category: Janet

The First

What would drive you to take someone’s life? Jealousy, anger, love, hate, fear, revenge? Whatever, it would be something big, wouldn’t it? Life is precious. That’s what I thought, but it’s not true; it’s much less complicated than that.

I watch the dark red blood slowly seep out from the back of Mr Jones’s head, his small, beady eyes full of self-righteousness, staring glassily up at me. His vitriolic words still ringing in my ears. I know I should feel shocked and horrified at what I have done, it was an accident after all, wasn’t it? An argument that got out of hand. I should call for help or something, try to keep him alive until the ambulance has time to arrive, but I don’t do any of these things. Instead, I calmly button up my coat against the cold, wrap my scarf around my head to obscure my identity, pick up my backpack and watch as his life drains away. I step over the lifeless body, making my way out of the dark, stinking alley at the back of Nag’s Head, onto the street, just as the streetlights come on. That miserable bastard won’t be making mum’s life a misery about parking outside his house anymore, I think, smiling to myself, surprised at the overwhelming feeling of self-satisfaction coursing through my body rather than remorse or regret.  I catch the bus outside the post office, getting off at my normal stop a few doors down from our house. I let myself in as normal, take off my coat and greet mum with a big hug. Then, I wait. How long will it take for someone to find him? Will his death be considered suspicious? He was old, unsteady on his feet.  Did anyone see me following him into the alley and coming out alone? A multitude of questions swirl around my head.

He was my first, the one I am most proud of, the accident, but the one that gave me the taste for it.

Jess moved hesitantly through the trees, the beam from her small torch lighting the narrow path. It was cold, the first signs of frost appearing on the forest floor, each breath she took forming a small cloud of mist. The air smelt of damp wood and moss. Twigs cracked underfoot, and she started at the hoot of an owl. Her wool jacket snagged on something sharp and spiky. She cursed as she tugged it free, knowing that there would be a hole. Everything looked so different in the dark, but she knew where she was going, didn’t she? Of course she did, she’d been there a million times.  The short, sharp, high-pitched bark of a fox sounded in the distance, and a shiver of fear ran through her, doubts starting to fill her mind. Why had she agreed to Ben’s dare to go to the old house in the woods in the middle of the night, for God’s sake? She was a sensible girl, not a risk-taker, but he’d needled her, taunted her about being a scaredy cat, and she’d snapped. He’d dared her, and she was damn well going to prove to him that she wasn’t chicken.  It had always been like this between them. Ben was her best friend and nemesis in equal measure. She’d thought that they’d be an item once, but that idea had been quickly quashed. The school disco a few months ago seeped into her mind.

Laura watched the children playing happily with the large, brightly coloured building bricks in the dim light; Poppy patiently helping her baby brother to build a tower as tall as she could, before he knocked it down with delight. She marvelled at how well Poppy had adapted to their new life and, for George, the only life he had ever known, but she worried about them constantly. They had been underground far longer than either Joe or she had anticipated and been prepared for, but they knew from the reports that reached them sporadically that they had to hold on for as long as they could. She had rationed the food and water for the last year, but the children were starting to show signs of malnutrition. Their skin was becoming translucent, anaemic-looking, they were increasingly lethargic, and they were so thin.  She knew in her heart that if they were to have any chance of survival, it wouldn’t be long before they had no option but to leave the safety of the bunker and face the horrors above ground. Hopefully, they had bought themselves enough time.

By Janet

This scene comes somewhere at the beginning when the girls are found to be missing, and the search for them starts:

As she drove further along the dirt road, clouds of red dust in her wake and the highway a distant memory, Eleri was grateful for what3words and the Jeep Rubicon she had picked up at the airport. Although she had managed to sleep on the plane, she desperately needed some fresh air to clear the fog in her brain. The last 24 hours had passed by in a blur; one moment she was curled up on the sofa watching Race Across the World, and the next she was catching the red eye to Albuquerque and a 3-hour drive to the Chaco Canyon. The girls had already been missing for five days, and Eleri knew, more than most, that the hope of finding them alive decreased with every additional day after the first 24 hours. Not far now, she thought as the location pin on her phone appeared.  The road curved right, and in sharp contrast to the loneliness of the drive there, a hive of activity now presented itself: police cars, fire trucks, ambulances and uniformed personnel filling the parking lot at the Information Center. She parked the jeep carefully; her boss wouldn’t appreciate any bills for damage, the jeep itself was costing enough, and asked a young officer for Sheriff King. The Sheriff turned as she approached. She could see him appraising her suspiciously before a flash of understanding.

DS Stuart Carter exhaled deeply as he closed the door of the Chief Super’s office behind him, the tension of the months of deliberation that had led to this point slowly melting away.  He’d been expecting it, the boss had said, thirty-five years on the Force takes its toll, but he’ll be sorely missed. He thanked him for waiting for the dust to settle after the Parker case. A year’s notice was appreciated, plenty of time to recruit and settle in a replacement. and he reluctantly supported Stuart’s caveat as compensation for this.

As he entered the shiny lift on the top floor of the newly opened out-of-town investigative hub, the white and chrome a far cry from the tired, mildewy dilapidation of the old headquarters in the city centre, he hesitated. Should he go back to his desk and inform the team? No need, he thought, as soon as Carl, the Chief’s Assistant, had seen him go into his office with an official-looking brown envelope, the rumour mill would’ve gone into overdrive. He pressed the button for the basement.

Cassy looked at the pictures filling the screen, the latest celebrity couple smiling broadly, their white teeth gleaming as they presented their perfect new baby to the World. They’d used a surrogate, of course, why ruin your figure when somebody else would take one for the team, at a price.

She thought of that exchange between George Bernard Shaw and Isadora Duncan when she had apparently suggested to him that if they had children together, they would have the perfect combination of her beauty and his brains. The risk is that they get your brains and my beauty instead, my dear, he had countered, laughing. That was then and this is now, Cassy thought, there would have been no such chances taken with this baby.

By Janet

Cassy looked at the pictures filling the screen, the latest celebrity couple smiling broadly, their white teeth gleaming as they presented their stunningly beautiful new baby to the World. They’d used a surrogate, of course, why ruin your figure when somebody else would take one for the team, at a price.

George Bernard Shaw and Isadora Duncan came into her mind. Duncan had apparently suggested to him that if they had a child together, it would have the perfect combination of her beauty and his brains. He had countered this, however,  by saying that the opposite was also just as likely to happen, which would be far from ideal. There would have been no such chances taken with this baby, though, Cassy thought.

By Janet

Mars – Day 1

Hi Mum.

Greetings from Mars!

Yes, we’ve finally arrived and thank God for that. I don’t think I could’ve spent another minute on that shuttle, if you paid me. Two months with six of us cooped up in a space the size of our back bedroom and you can imagine that tempers frayed, not to mention the smell. No wonder they made us strip off and walk through a disinfection chamber on landing. Honestly, I don’t blame them as we stank to high heaven. It was quite embarrassing though but I don’t think Martians are as self-conscious as Humans. It’s interesting how much you learn about people when you can’t escape them. For example, Ginny talks in her sleep and Ryan snores like a warthog, two things I would rather have not known. They of course swore they didn’t, but a little secret recording settled that dispute. Food wasn’t too bad until a couple of weeks before we landed and there was no fresh food left. Dehydrated spag bol sounds OK but, trust me, it isn’t. Think very soft slimy tinned spaghetti strands interspersed with grit, and you get the picture.  The flight was so boring too. The trouble with space is that the view out of the window is quite samey, day after day, not like the journey from Swansea to Cardiff. Imagine month after month of mainly darkness. We managed to keep ourselves busy though. Joe ran a daily morning fitness class of squats, lunges, press ups, sit ups and the plank and Cary ended the day with a yoga class. As you know, I’m no fitness fanatic but I think it’s done me good. That, along with reading, puzzles, listening to music and the occasional makeshift karaoke, initiated by Rob, helped pass the time. I bet you didn’t know that Rob’s DJ’ed at Clwb Ifor Bach. Admit it, you don’t know where that is, but it’s a club in Cardiff so that’s really cool.

Anyway, enough for now. I’ve arrived safe and sound and I’ll message again when I’ve met my exchange family. Say hi to Dad and Jen for me and give Luna a big tummy tickle.

Cariad mawr,

Fi

xxxx

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By Janet

The terrified girls clung to each other until the dazzling, bright light disappeared, and blackness surrounded them. As their eyes grew accustomed to the dark, they made out the shapes of stone structures emerging from a vast, open rocky landscape of dry scrub bushes and dusty, sandy soil. Overhead, the ink-black sky was filled with twinkling stars, and a white moon loomed large and round. All was quiet, apart from the occasional high-pitched howling sound of a wild animal in the distance and the rustling of insects, which unsettled them.

“Where are we?” Jess whispered panickily.

“I don’t know,” Hannah replied, trying to be calm, suppressing her own panic to reassure the younger girl, “but we need to find somewhere safe to wait until morning.”

Keeping close, the girls moved slowly and quietly towards the skeleton of a house, careful not to draw attention to themselves; they didn’t know what was out there watching them.

“We’ll shelter here until light,” Hannah said, “hopefully, we’ll be able to get a better idea of where we are by then.”  

Inside the derelict structure, crouched into a sheltered corner, they huddled together, wrapping their waterproofs around them to keep out the cold. Like this, they slept fitfully until the first rays of sunshine penetrated through the open roof of the house, gradually warming them.

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Sarah sipped her strong, black coffee and stared out of the kitchen window at the mizzle shrouding the garden. She hadn’t slept well, the black crows nesting in the large fir trees, waking her from her dark, fitful dreams in the early hours with their hoarse coos, caws, rattles and clicks. She’d always been suspicious of crows ever since her grandmother had told her that they were bringers of bad luck and death, shooing them away from her small cottage garden at every opportunity. A dark despair crept over her, reflecting the greyness of the clouds and the symbolism of the crows. She didn’t notice the police car at first until a slight movement caught her eye. She watched as a tall, black-suited man, followed by a young, immaculately uniformed female police officer, opened the gate and made their way to the front door, their faces serious with the news they were about to deliver. Finally, this must be it, Sarah thought to herself, the moment she had been dreading and anticipating in equal measure for the last five years. She hesitated at the sound of the doorbell, its cheery chime so inappropriate at that moment. Time slowed as she went to open the door, her legs dragging as if she was walking through quicksand.