The Left Series (Book 4): Left In The Cold (23 page)

“Maybe you should be talking to Davie or Alex.”

“Have they taken them?” I wasn’t going to shoot her in cold blood but I needed some answers.

“I told you, I don’t know.”
Mrs McMahon’s lip curled back over her teeth in an angry sneer.

I didn’t see how one person could trap the three armed girls but anything seemed possible in this crazy place.
Alex seemed a bit of a smug bastard but I didn’t think he was capable of kidnap. I knew from reading Davie’s employment file and the way he’d been riled when Smith was goading him that he had a temper, but was he capable of abducting three armed women?

Mrs
McMahon hadn’t given me any clear answers but at least I knew she’d poisoned Smith and I’d have to watch myself now as I’d threatened her. I wouldn’t be able to eat anything she’d cooked and I’d have to watch out for crazy Rory attacking me as payback. I decided to cease quizzing her and try and find the other castle dwellers to see if they could shed any further light on the situation.

I turned away from
Mrs McMahon and stomped out of the kitchen, half expecting her to hurl the big chopping knife at my back.

My head spun with the events that had taken place and the new revelations that Chloe and
Mrs McMahon had admitted. Was Maddie really a danger? And where the hell was Gera? And the sweet old cook Mrs McMahon was capable of attempted murder. Jesus, I wanted out of the castle so badly. The zombie infested wastelands outside seemed like a street party compared to this place.

I thought I’d try the recreation room next, the place where
Maddie sung her songs the previous night. I barged through the door, conscious I was running out of time. The situation needed to be resolved by nightfall or I was going to be scrabbling around the castle in darkness. The shadowy rooms and dingy corners were hard enough to see into, let alone in pitch blackness. Zombies or assassins could lurk right next to me during the night and I wouldn’t know they were there.

Nobody occupied the recreation area. The place was littered with empty wine bottles and dirty glasses. I moved through the room to the doorway opposite.
A spiraling staircase lay beyond the far door. I was now moving into places I hadn’t been before. It looked as though the staircase led to one of the other towers. I guessed the castle dwellers might use the tower as living accommodation so I slowly climbed the cast iron steps.

The daylight faded into shadow as I ascended.
My breathing increased to a rapid wheeze as I moved further upward into unknown territory. I drew the M-9 and held it out in front of me, wary somebody was going to hurtle down the stairs, on the attack.

I heard a female singing from somewhere amongst the upper rooms as I reached the staircase summit. The layout of the upper floor was similar to the tower where we were accommodated
and a small skylight slightly illuminated the landing area. The singing sounded like a tune Maddie had sung the night before.

“
Maddie?” I called softly, not knowing what to expect. Was she going to attack me or welcome me with open arms?

The singing ceased. I stopped on the tower room landing, turning left and right to face each of the bedroom doors.
I wondered if anybody else was lurking inside one of the rooms and might burst out brandishing a knife or one of the stolen guns. A door to the far left of the corridor opened and a figure slowly stepped out into the gloomy half light.

“
Maddie?” I said again.

“Is that you, Brett?” she called out.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I sighed, slightly relieved it wasn’t somebody hostile. I still had to keep my wits about me, though, if Chloe was telling the truth. I lowered my handgun but kept it at my side.

“Have you come to see me?”
Maddie whispered. “You can come into my bedroom, if you want.”

“Ah, maybe some other time,
Maddie,” I stammered nervously. “I really need to find the others. Have you seen them since lunch?”

“Sorry, Brett, I haven’t,” she replied, padding closer into the light beneath the skylight.

I noticed she wore a silky white robe, patterned with a yellow flower print. The garment was loosely wrapped around her, revealing a vertical strip of bare flesh from her chest to her stomach. I turned my head and purposefully glanced at the floor.

“Oh, Brett, why have you got your gun drawn?” she whispered. “Just like a cowboy from the Wild West. I promise I’ll come quietly.” She raised her arms as though she was surrendering and the robe opened up even more. “Oops,” she sighed and emitted an alluring giggle. “I’ll be naked in a minute.”

I laughed nervously.

“Would you like that, Brett?”

Part of me wanted to step forward, take her in my arms and bundle her into her bedroom. But I knew if I did it was only going to further complicate the situation and I’d never forgive myself for cheating on Cordoba, if I did the wicked deed.

“Sorry,
Maddie,” I said. “Listen, I’m very flattered that you like me but I really have to search for the others. They’re still missing, Smith is sick and there’s still no sign of our friend, Gera.”

I noticed her cheek twitch and an expression of resentment flicked over her face for a brief moment.

“Okay, have it your own way,” she sighed and turned away. “I may have been able to help you find your lost male friend but now, I don’t think I’ll bother. You’ll come around in the end, Brett. Men always do.”

“Wait,” I called, moving forward slightly. “Do you know where Gera is?”

She flashed me a conceited glance before storming back into her room. I didn’t follow her or pursue my inquiry. She’d have only played games with me. I left her to it.

I knocked on a couple of other doors. “Hello, is anybody inside?”

Nobody answered me and I wasn’t going to go into Maddie’s room, so I turned and left the tower area, making no further progress in my search. As I plodded down the staircase, I wondered if I’d ever find my missing friends.

Maybe I’d spend the rest of my days looking for them, like some sad old fool in a black and white
horror movie, perpetually searching for a lost love. I wasn’t sure if Maddie was just bullshitting me about knowing Gera’s whereabouts or she was genuine. Either way, she wasn’t going to tell me now. She seemed to say and do some very bizarre things so I decided to give her a wide berth and keep my distance from her as much as possible.

I stopped on the staircase when I was level with the door to the recreation room but the steps continued on further down, leading to a lower level.

“Ah, what the hell,” I sighed, plodding further down the staircase, into the darkness below.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I fished around in my jacket pocket for my small flashlight. I switched it on and the silvery LED bulbs cut through the darkness as I descended the staircase.
The steps were dusty but I saw recently deposited footprints in the center of the cast iron treads. Somebody had been down there in the not too distant past. I brushed aside huge cobwebs at the sides of the walkway, staring down into the gloom below me.

Some of the steps
at the bottom of the staircase had rusted and broken away from the main frame. I carefully avoided the sharp edges and dropped to the wooden boarded floor below. My feet landed with a thud amongst the dust and rusting metal debris.

I shone the flashlight through the space around me, blowing out the stench of damp and dust from my
swollen nostrils. The room I stood in housed old furniture, piled on top of each other in the corners and against the stone walls. I stayed stock still when I heard a thump. It sounded like something hitting the wooden boards beneath my feet. Maybe it was a rat or a mouse trapped under the floorboards.

Nothing of any significance seemed to occupy the room so I turned back to the staircase but stopped when I heard the thumping again. It continued this time, gaining momentum and becoming more frantic. I listened and thought I could hear a muffled
female voice.

I shuffled across the floor space, listening out for the source of the noise. The banging came from beneath a stack of threadbare chairs in the far corner, on the right side of the room.
I crouched down and shone the flashlight beam under the chair at the bottom of the stack. A trap door sat in the floor beneath, weighted down by the pile of chairs. The banging and muffled voices continued hammering and shrieking. I couldn’t make out what the people below were saying and I didn’t even know if they were alive or it was the screeches of more secretly locked away undead.

I’d have to take a look whatever the consequences. I dragged the heavy stack of chairs across the floor, cringing at the ghastly scraping noise the motion created. Taking a moment to regain my breath, I then pulled out my M-9 handgun and pointed it and the flashlight at the trap door.
I slowly bent down, loosened the bolts at the edge of the trap door and took hold of the metal clasp. The wooden flap was heavy and I couldn’t pull it open while holding the flashlight in the same hand. My heart hammered in my chest as I gripped the body of the flashlight between my teeth and tugged harder on the cast iron ring.

The trap door slowly opened and I saw hands reaching across the floorboards, emerging from the dark space beneath. I hauled the flap fully open and flung it back on its axis. I retreated a few steps backward, pointing my Beretta at the square of blackness in the floor.

The hands gripped the floorboards and a head rose out of the trap door. I shone the light beam directly in the face of who or what was looming up into the room. My finger gently pressed against the trigger of my handgun so I could fire at any hostile person or creature in a fraction of a second.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I recognized the face blinking against the light. I lowered the handgun and approached the trap door.

“Who’s there?” Wingate barked, confusion apparent in her voice.

“It’s me, Brett,” I said. “You’re okay now, Sarah. What the hell
are you doing down there?”

“Get us out of here first,” she yelled. “We’ve been stuck in the dark in this damn cellar for hours.”

I shoved the M-9 back in its holster and set the flashlight down on top of the stack of chairs. Then I moved quickly to the trap door and offered Wingate my hand. She gripped my wrist and I hauled her up into the room. She sat down on the floor amongst the dust.

“Am I glad to see you,” she sighed.

“Hey, Brett,” called a voice from below.

I shone the beam into the dark space beyond the trap door and saw the wooden rungs
were broken on the top half of the ladder leading down into the cellar. Batfish peered up at me, blinking against the brightness of the flashlight.

“Pull me up, will you?” she hollered, reaching up with her hand.

I crouched down and grabbed her hand. Wingate hauled herself to her feet and gave me a hand. We pulled Batfish to the surface and repeated the operation for Cordoba. Wingate slammed the cellar door shut and brushed her hands together.

“Where’s Smith?” she asked.

I sighed. “It’s all gone to shit out here. We ran into some crazy guy who beat up on us so Smith was going to kill him but Mrs McMahon pulled a shotgun on us. Then we went for lunch and she poisoned him,” I explained, in a garbled manner.

“Oh, my god!”
Wingate wailed, holding her hand to her mouth. “Is he still alive?”

“Ah, yeah,” I said, nodding. “He’s going to be okay, I think.” I knew I wasn’t filling them with confidence.

“And you just left him? Where is he now?” Wingate shrieked.

“He’s in his bed in his room. Alex, Chloe and Trevor are looking after him so it’s okay.”

“Shit, Brett,” Wingate gasped, moving towards the staircase. “They could be in league with Mrs McMahon and pushing a pillow over his face, as we speak. I need to get up there and see if he’s okay. Why didn’t you stay with him?”

“I came to
find you guys,” I protested.

The three girls started climbing the spiraling staircase. I grabbed the flashlight and followed on behind them.

“Why were you locked in that cellar?” I asked, as we hurriedly ascended the stairs. “I thought you were supposed to be checking on the upper levels?”

Batfish was directly in front of me and turned her head slightly. “That bastard Davie said he knew where Gera was and he’d take us to him.”

“He said he was down in that cellar with a twisted ankle,” Cordoba added.

“Then after we went down there, the fucker shut the trap door over us,” Batfish concluded. “Wait till we catch up with him
. He’s going to regret jerking us around.”

“Davie did this?” I couldn’t quite accept it.

“Yeah, Davie. The big fat guy,” Cordoba spat. “Why, don’t you believe us, Brett?”