Come Into Darkness (14 page)

“You
should
know him,” said Worth. “You got him fired.”

“He was too old for the job,” Kerry cried before slamming her mouth shut. She covered her lips.

Worth laughed.

“You may have realised, Miss Foster, that I too am close to retirement. Yet, I feel you may believe I do my job…excellently. Don’t you agree?”

Hand still over her mouth, Kerry slowly nodded.

That’s it. Keep him on side, Kerry.

Mario edged along the wall. At the corner, he explored every inch.

Come on…

“Mr. Thomas had a hard winter, what with no income for extra heating. He had a close call with pneumonia.” Worth glanced to the left, like he physically sat beside the old man. “Such a pity. It’s no wonder he looks so fed up! But Miss Foster will make her decisions without thinking first. Here’s a chance, should you choose, to put a spark back into his life.”

The shift of the camera revealed the old man bound to a rusty metal frame with handcuffs. His frail body had been stripped down to a pair of saggy, white underpants. Cables ran from the metal bowl to somewhere off screen.

Mario studied the picture for a moment. With nothing else happening, he continued to probe the walls, moving away from the televisions.

Kerry walked in a small circle on the platform, eyes wide open.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “There’s nothing I can do for these people.” Her head swept to and fro, looking at the screens. “He wants his job back? Fine. I can get that for him.”

“We aren’t finished yet,” said Worth. “You’re forgetting about the third guest.”

Mario paused. The girl on the first screen continued to paw the inside of the tank. Her eyes darted left and right. Mario wondered what horrors she could possibly be seeing. The old man stayed still, either unconscious or deep in thought.

The third guest…

What can they possibly-

“Voila!” cried Worth with a flourish as television number three blinked into focus.

“Oh no,” said Kerry, staring at the final screen.

“You can’t!” Mario screamed across the room.

The baby on screen lay on a velvet shawl. It looked at the camera and squealed in delight, kicking its legs in the air. Silver bracelets jingled on its wrists and ankles.

Kerry strode across the platform, fists squeezed at her sides. She reached the edge.

“I wouldn’t do that yet,” said Worth, nearly jumping from his seat. “You wouldn’t want something bad to happen!”

Boot hovering inches above a red tile, Kerry slowly stepped back and lowered it onto the platform.

“Good girl,” said Worth.

“Sick bastards! A baby?” Mario dashed around the edge of the circle, back towards the screens. “How can you do this?”

Worth raised his hands. “Open your eyes, Mr. Fulcinni. We haven’t done anything.” The baby appeared quite amused by the whole affair. He looked back to Kerry. “You don’t know this young gentleman. The management thought it would add a little pressure to your decision making abilities.”

“What the hell is this?” Kerry screamed. “What the
fuck
is this?”

Worth shook his head.

“So impatient. Let me explain. You like to make the big decisions. The choices that affect the company, and, as we’ve seen, people’s lives. Well tonight, we’re giving the biggest decision of them all.” He licked his lips. “Step on a tile. See what happens.”

“Don’t do it,” said Mario. His stomach lurched, bubbling acid. He rubbed it. “Whatever he wants, don’t do it.”

“I think we’d better continue to play,” said Worth, frowning. “It may be paramount to Miss Foster’s health.”

Mario roared and kicked the wall.

“Is that a threat?” he yelled at the screen. A straight threat, Worth? Is it?”

Again, Worth raised his hands. “It’s not my doing. But I wouldn’t like the delightful Miss Foster to be on that platform when it falls.”

Kerry gasped and stared down.

“No!” cried Mario.

Worth removed his pocket watch and studied its face.

“In approximately two minutes’ time.” He smiled. “Are you ready to play yet?”

13

“The only way out of your predicament,” said Worth, “is to cross the tiles to safety. Again, maybe a little demonstration is in order. Pick one.”

Kerry stared down. Before her feet lay a tile of each colour.

Mario kicked the wall again, and his toes bent from the impact. The hot stab of pain barely registered. “This isn’t fair, Worth! It’s not a true decision if she’s forced into making it!”

“It was her decision to disobey my request to leave earlier, so it
was
her choice. I merely neglected to inform Miss Foster of the consequences.” He looked at Kerry, who studied the tiles. He tapped the face of his watch. “Tick-tock!”

Kerry raised a boot, and it poised in the air over the red tile.

“Don’t do it, Kerry,” called Mario.

“I…I have to.”

She lowered her foot, but at the last moment, sidestepped onto the green tile. It lit up brighter.

On the wall, the green frame of the middle television set flashed. The old man lifted his head as if he’d seen something off screen.

“The green tile,” said Worth. “Every time you step on a green tile, this will happen…”

Mario watched the screen.
Oh no.

A shower of sparks exploded around the old man. His eyes and mouth slammed shut in a sickening grimace, and his head thrashed back and forth, chin striking his chest.

“Oh God,” cried Mario.

Kerry shrieked and jumped back onto the circular platform.

The old man relaxed, head hanging and chest billowing. Blood gathered on his lips and flowed down his chin and neck. Mario guessed he’d bitten his tongue.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Worth, “the green tile. And here’s the rub, if you use the green tile
all
the way across, Mr. Thomas is going to fry, Miss Foster. Maybe it would be better to use all three tiles to dash across?”

Yes. Less time on each one.

Mario’s heart leapt.

That might work!

Kerry stood transfixed at the old man on the green screen. Convulsions still coursed through his wiry body.

“That is,” Worth continued, “if you can creep across in time. Each tile is pressure sensitive, I believe. The harder you hit, well, you can imagine.” He glanced at his watch. “And you have thirty seconds left.”

Kerry screamed and grabbed her head through her hair. She paced the platform, studying the tiles.

Mario’s mind raced, yet the solution remained hidden. He thought back to the old man, high voltage ripping through his body.

Think!

“Twenty seconds,” said Worth. “One must really be ready to move soon…”

“Help me!” Kerry roared.

Mario darted forwards. His foot slammed onto a green tile, and a bang issued from the television. The old man strained like he lifted a weight, before his head beat back and forth once more. Mario jumped back.

“Ten seconds,” said Worth.

Standing at the very centre of the platform, Kerry raised her face and screamed at the ceiling. “Someone help me!”

Mario glanced around, searching for another way to the platform.

Worth stared at the pocket watch. “The big hand says five…four…three…”

“Kerry!” Mario yelled. “Move!”

“…two…”

Kerry stepped backwards.

“…one…”

“Move,” wailed Mario, his throat burning.

Kerry ran and stepped on a blue tile as the platform fell away. She wobbled, arms out, and tottered back. Her hands wheeled in the air.

“Kerry!”

Mario staggered, his toes at the edge of the tiles.

Worth clapped his hands and laughed, settling back and watching the proceedings.

“Keep still,” ordered Mario. “Balance!”

Kerry leaned forwards, body bent. She seemed to find her centre.

“Stay there,” said Mario, “and take your time!”

“I…can’t,” said Kerry. She pointed to the screens. “Look!”

Mario realised that the room echoed with the sound of rushing water. His stomach squirmed, and he slowly turned around.

The blue frame of the second television flashed. Within the tank, Amy Childs banged her fists against the glass. She stared down in wide-eyed terror at the rising water around her knees. Behind her, from an opening in the roof of the tank, relentless water splashed down in a thick torrent.

“Shit,” moaned Mario. “Get off there, Kerry!”

“There’s nowhere to go,” she screamed.

On screen, the water splashed around the girl’s thighs. She slapped the glass, weeping. Her breath steamed.

“Kerry!”

“I know,” she howled. She stepped away from the hole and onto the next row, placing her feet on a green tile. The pouring water stopped, and Amy fell against the side of the tank in tears.

“Noooo!” cried Mr. Thomas on the green screen. Sparks showered him, and his muscles tensed once more. An electrical crackle emitted from the speakers.

“Kerry!”

She glanced over, face flushed and shimmering with tears and sweat. “What the fuck do you want me to do?”

Worth chuckled. “Make the decision, Miss Foster.”

Mr. Thomas jerked back, and a splattering of blood flew from his mouth.

“Keep moving,” shouted Mario. “The longer you stay on there…”

Kerry stepped forwards, and Mario jerked like a bolt of lightning had struck him.

“Not the red one!”

The tile glowed ruby, and the red frame on the last television started its pulsing beat.

The camera panned back, revealing the baby in full. Silver chains, so slender they appeared as glittering lengths of string, were attached to bracelets around each of the baby’s limbs. The chains slowly pulled, the unseen mechanism ticking…

“Kerry,” said Mario.

She stared at the screen, her mouth hanging open.

“Kerry. Move. Now.”

The baby’s hands tugged apart from each other, as did its feet. The child giggled and looked around, seeming curious. Its body formed a star shape, spreading wider.

“Kerry, get off the damn thing!”

Kerry crept forward onto a blue tile. The water poured once more.

“I can’t make it,” she said. “It’s too far!”

“You have to…” Mario swallowed, tears welling. “You have to decide.”

“What?”

“You can make it across on one colour,” he yelled.

“But then…” Kerry glanced up at the screens. The water continued to rise, now up to the girl’s stomach. “What happens to…to…?”

Mario bowed his head. “That’s what you have to decide.”

Kerry stared at each screen in turn. The young girl, the old man, and the baby. She stepped forwards onto a red tile. The baby’s limbs immediately began to spread farther apart. It pulled against the thin chains and erupted into a high-pitched wailing.

“Not the red one!” said Mario.

“I’m sorry,” Kerry screamed. She sidestepped onto a green tile.

The shocks began in earnest.

Kerry jumped to another green tile, quickly followed by another. The instant her boots struck the emerald square, Mr. Thomas’ back arched and struck the metal frame. Mario guessed the voltage increased with each heavy impact on the tiles.

He turned his back to Kerry, watching the screens closer. Amy waded through the freezing water, searching the sides of the tank. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body.

The baby still bawled, kicking and swinging against the chains.

Mario covered his face with his hands.

This is madness. Total madness.

Mr. Thomas thrashed harder, more blood dripping from his chin.

“Hurry up, Kerry,” Mario called and faced her.

“I’m trying,” she said and jumped to the next green tile. Her boot slipped.

“Kerry!”

She fell forwards, arms outstretched. Her body pounded the tiles, and she cried out.

All the television screens flashed.

“Kerry! Get up!”

She pushed herself into a sitting position. Her legs still pressed on several tiles. It seemed she sat on a blanket of colourful light.

“Get up,” he screamed.

The water reached Amy’s chest.

The chains had pulled the baby inches above the velvet sheets.

The old man hung limp on the metal frame.

Kerry scrambled to her feet and balanced on a green tile. The sounds of rushing water and the ticking chain mechanism ceased. Only the buzzing of electricity remained.

Mr. Thomas’ skin glazed a deep red and seemed to swell in places and tighten in others like an overripe strawberry.

“Take your time,” said Mario, observing the other two screens. The chains had pulled the baby to its limits. The infant screamed its protests, its face a dark, bruised purple. Amy Childs stood on her tiptoes with her head tilted back to lift her face from the water. “You’ve made your decision.” He wiped his brow and averted his eyes from the green screen. “You have to stick with it now.”

Taking long strides, Kerry manoeuvred across the green tiles. Nearing the outer ring, she glanced up.

“Oh no,” she said, and closed her eyes.

Mario looked at the screen. Mr. Thomas sweated blood. It seeped from his forehead, chest and arms.

Mario’s stomach bubbled, and he covered his mouth.

The old man’s eyes suddenly popped and hung on his cheeks as white, deflated bags.

“He’s dead,” said Mario. “It’s done. Be careful.”

Two rows from the lacquered floor, Kerry wiped her eyes and sniffled. She wiped her nose with the sleeve of the Nazi uniform.

Mario held his arms open. “Come on. Don’t look at the screen. Look at me.”

Kerry nodded and stepped onto the penultimate green tile. She landed heavy, the increase in voltage now irrelevant.

“That’s it,” said Mario. “One more.”

Kerry screamed and almost hop-scotched across the final tile. She collided with Mario, who wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. They both fell to the floor.

Mario cradled her trembling body.

On screen, Mr. Thomas hung dead from the frame, flames dancing across his body and blackening the skin.

His head…