Three Stories Tall Read online

  The line went quiet for a moment and Abi thought they had been cut off. "That's better," said her mum who now sounded as if she actually had the phone to her head. "All the trains into Langford have been cancelled. I'm stuck in Wreathing at the moment. I could try to get a bus..." she trailed off.

  Abi was reluctant to give up on lunch with her mum but she couldn't expect her to spend the next hour sitting on a bus just for tea and sandwiches. "Don't be silly mum, we can do it another time."

  "I don't mind."

  "I do," said Abi. "Seriously, I'll get Craig to drive us over at the weekend."

  "If you're sure?"

  "I am. How are you keeping?"

  "Oh you know me," said her mum, "I get by. Listen Abi I need to go, I think there's a train leaving for Oxley in ten minutes."

  "Okay mum."

  "Love you Abi."

  "Love you too mum." She was about to hang up when she remembered there was something else she needed to tell her. "Oh mum, one more thing."

  "What's that?" she said sounding distracted, probably already looking around to see which platform she needed to go to.

  "We're calling her Victoria. After dad."

  "Abi that's lovely. Your dad would be so pleased. Are you sure Craig doesn't mind?"

  "When he asks me to marry him he can have a say," she said. She meant it as a joke but there was an undertone of seriousness to it and her mum didn't laugh. She could practically hear her shaking her head.

  "I should go."

  "Of course," said Abi, now feeling a little embarrassed. "Let me know when you get home."

  The girl came out with her tea and she paid for it. She leaned back in her seat and looked at her phone on the table. She tapped her fingers on the glass surface and then suddenly snatched it up. She opened the message application and wrote:

  'Sorry for being such a bitch. Love you. Xxx'

  Before she could think herself out of it she pressed send and then put the phone back down.

  She sipped her tea and wondered what she was going to do now. She didn't much fancy spending the day in town by herself but if there were no trains running into the city there were probably none running out. Maybe she could pop down to the book shop and get herself something to read, then she could spend the day at the coffee shop until Craig was ready to take her home. If he returned her text. She glanced at the phone but there was no reply.

  He was probably in a meeting or something where he couldn't use his phone. There was no reason to think that he had taken the argument, if it had actually been an argument, as far as she could remember she was the only one arguing, particularly seriously.

  On the street a woman wearing a dress that looked more like underwear ran past barefoot, she was holding a pair of black heels in her hands. There were no cars on the road. It seemed more like a Saturday morning. She didn't make a habit of coming into town so early on a weekday but the few times she had done so it had been busy. Men and women in business suits had swarmed through the streets holding their paper cups of coffee with newspapers tucked under their arms. But now she could count the number of people she saw on two hands.

  Now that she had stopped moving she started to get cold. She reached behind her and pulled the cardigan back on. She glanced at her phone but there was still no reply from Craig. She was being silly, worrying about nothing. If he had a problem he was not the kind of person to ignore it. If he had really been annoyed about this morning he would have called her and spoken to her about it. Unless something had happened to him. She shook her head, of course nothing had happened to him, what on earth could?

  She looked through the floor to ceiling window of the coffee shop and saw that it too was practically empty. The comfortable sofa by the window that was usually taken over by teenagers who should have been at school was vacant, as were most of the tables. A few middle aged men sat around their laptops using the free wi-fi. Three members of staff stood behind the counter talking and looking at their phones.

  Abi finished her tea and realised that she needed to use the toilet quite urgently. She braced herself on the arms of the chair and heaved herself up. Her belly knocked the table and the china cup rattled as it shook and settled down. The door tinkled and the waitress came out.

  "Is everything alright?" she said, very concerned.

  "Fine," said Abi, feeling herself starting to get annoyed with the eager little beaver. "I just need to use the bathroom."

  The girl smiled, her teeth were bleached white and she had a tongue stud. "It's this way." She reached out to take Abi's arm which was not going to happen.

  Abi pulled her arm away from the groping hands. "I can manage," she said with more venom than she had intended.

  "Sorry," said the girl, obviously realising she had overstepped some line. "I just... my sister had a baby last year, she could hardly get around towards the end."

  Abi sighed and forced a smile. The girl was just trying to be helpful, it wasn't her fault she was still in a mood about Craig. Craig who still hadn't texted her back and was probably making her wait on purpose so she would feel bad about their argument. "It's okay," she said. "Could you show me where the toilets are?"

  "Of course," said the girl and she pushed open the door and led Abi inside.

  The noise was overwhelming. The television was on showing the news. Some story about unseasonably warm weather and what scientists thought was causing it. Coffee beans were being ground in the big machine on the counter and the business men she had seen huddled around laptops were talking loudly and incoherently. The air conditioning unit hummed in the background. She felt herself go a little wobbly but forced herself to keep moving. It was probably the change in pressure or something.

  "They're just through there," said the girl and pointed Abi towards a wooden door tucked away in a dark corner next to the bar.

  Abi turned to smile at her and thank her for her help but as she did everything suddenly stopped. The television went off with a loud clunk and the blade in the coffee blender slowed and then stopped. The business men kept talking for a moment but then the lights went out and they fell silent too.

  "What's..." she started to say but her head was swimming. She felt herself falling and saw the waitress girl try to grab her but there was no way the skinny little thing could hold her up. She felt the air rush past and red hair floated in front of her face. She reached out to grab hold of the counter but her fingers were moist with sweat and slipped right off.

  She hit the floor with a thud that she felt all the way through her body. Her hands automatically went to her stomach but how could she tell if the baby was alright. Faces looked down at her from above. She could see their mouths moving to speak to her but she couldn't hear anything. Then it all went black.

  When she woke up she was no longer on the floor. Something soft was beneath her. It was still dark and there was no noise except distant voices which she couldn't hear well enough to understand. She sat up slowly, her head still swimming. The waitress appeared before her like an illusion.

  "Are you okay?"

  Abi nodded but the truth was she didn't know. She had never passed out before, what was it supposed to feel like?

  "Here drink this," she said and handed her a glass of water with ice cubes starting to melt in it.

  Abi took the drink gratefully and started to sip it. "How long was I unconscious for?" she said.

  "Not long, a few minutes maybe."

  The business men had left the shop so it was just her and the staff. "What happened?"

  The girl shrugged. "Power cut I guess. Hopefully they'll send us home."

  Abi smiled and finished the glass of water. "Thanks," she said. She sat there for a moment longer but she didn't want to stay for long. According to the clock above the counter it was just after eight but the day had already been a complete disaster; first she could find her good shoes, then an argument with Craig and her mum cancelling lunch. Now this. She just wanted to find a taxi and go home.

 
; She pushed herself up. "You should rest," said the girl.

  Abi shook her head. "I just want to go home."

  The girl shrugged and helped Abi to stand. "Do you want to call a taxi or something?"

  "I've got my mobile," she said patting her bag. "I think I'd just like to get some fresh air."

  The girl helped her to the door and held it open for her. Outside the air was not fresh and there was an unusual warmth. She smiled at the girl and walked away as quickly as she could manage.

  4

  Gwen stood in the doorway of the control centre and watched the screen light up. As each charge was detonated successfully a green dot appeared. Soon green lights circled the city from the bay to the canyon cutting it off completely from the rest of the country.

  "The power is out," said Dawson.

  She nodded and tried not to think about the people who were inside the green circle. They had kept out as they could but they couldn't save everyone. When the smoke cleared bodies had to be found and the people that were in there now could not be allowed to escape.

  "Are we ready to begin phase two?" she said.

  "One moment," said Dawson and stepped away from her side and out of the control centre. She could hear him talking on his phone, checking the status of the second stage of the operation. After a moment he stuck his head back around the door. "Final preparations are underway. They want to know if secondary charges will be required?"

  The second stage was more difficult than the first. Despite extensive computer modelling they couldn't be quite sure how well the primary charges would work. Now the agents they were sending into the city wanted to know whether they would need to take extra explosives with them. It was as if they hadn't spent the last year training for this.

  She sighed. "They need to take them," she said.

  Dawson nodded and disappeared again. She glanced up at the live satellite image and watched the smoke drift east across the city. She didn't want to think about what it was going to be like for the people trapped in the smoke and the heat. It was never pleasant to kill somebody, especially this many, but when you worked for the Grigori you quickly came to learn that sometimes the ends justified the means.

  "They will be ready to go in ten minutes," said Dawson.

  "Tell the pilots to get ready then," she said, "and start packing up here."

  There were nods of understanding around the small room but the geeks still had jobs to do and furiously bashed away at their keyboards. They had fifteen minutes, once the helicopters were in the air they needed to clear the area. The last thing they needed was for some dumb ass with a camera to photograph their black vans on top of the hill. Besides, they didn't need to stay close to complete the operation. A few miles or a thousand wouldn't make any difference now.

  5

  A large man in a business suit held out his phone, waving it around and looking at the screen. A teenage boy with too much product in his hair shouted into his hand. Abi looked along the street but she couldn't see lights on in any of the other buildings and there was a background noise, like a distant roar.

  Abi took out her phone and turned on the screen. There was still no message from Craig. The little icon in the corner that displayed signal strength was blank. She went to her text messages and saw a little red exclamation mark next to the message she had tried to send.

  She looked back at the coffee shop but couldn't see anyone inside. Across the street there was a pay phone but the metal cable hung limp and phone less.

  More people came out of nearby buildings and filled the streets. Soon they were everywhere.

  A screech of car tires caused her to turn around, a red convertible came roaring down the street, swerving from side to side as if the driver was drunk. Abi stood in stunned silence as the out of control vehicle raced towards the heaving crowd. She wasn't sure if anyone else had even noticed it.

  A woman screamed but the car kept going. It fish tailed back and forth. It must have been travelling at close to sixty miles an hour.

  There was a loud screeching sound and the car folded in on itself. It must have hit a bollard or something and saved countless lives. But the car hadn't stopped moving yet.

  Abi watched in horror as the back wheels lifted off the ground followed by the rest of the back and then the front. It flipped into the air, turning two, three, four times as it flew over the heads of the crowd.

  People tried to move but there was nowhere to go. The crowd was thick and there was no time to get out from under the red death.

  It hit the ground roof first and if the driver hadn't already been dead he was now. Smoke filled the air and the wheels continued to turn as if the car was trying to turn itself over. There was blood and screaming and Abi felt faint. She leaned against a rubbish bin and tried to calm her breathing.

  "It's okay," she said putting a hand on her stomach and gently rubbing her bump. "Everything's okay."

  But it wasn't okay, how could it be? The power was still off and, as far as she could tell, no one could phone an ambulance. People were screaming and crying and she had to look away. She closed her eyes for a moment and tilted back her head. When she opened them she saw a heavy grey cloud spreading across the sky.

  6

  The kitchen was completely dark. It was in the basement of the Park Harrington hotel and there were no windows. Victor stood at the sink and waited for the generator to kick in or for the emergency lights to start glowing.

  "Victor?" shouted Mr Fisher from somewhere in the darkness behind him. "What have you done Victor?" he shouted, getting closer with every word.

  It hadn't been his fault, of course it hadn't, but that wouldn't stop Mr Fisher blaming him. He was sure the old man had it in for him.

  "There you are," he said, appearing at the end of the row just as the generator kicked in and the emergency lights came on. "What happened?"

  "It wasn't me," he said, hating the whiny pathetic tone of his voice but that's what they did to you inside; turned you from a man into a snivelling wimp.

  "Well it wasn't me was it?" said Mr Fisher. He was a squat little man, in every respect Victor's physical inferior. So why did he have to put up with being spoken to like this? He was younger, he was bigger, he was stronger, it should be Mr Fisher that was cowering beneath him.

  "No Mr Fisher," he said and he knew the reason. He did it because if he didn't he would be breaking parole and he had no doubt that Mr Fisher would gladly see him back inside.

  "Go and see if you can find out what happened," said Mr Fisher.

  "I just started the washing up," he said.

  "Are you arguing with me?"

  He shook his head.

  "Go and find out what happened. The washing will still be here when you get back."

  "Yes Mr Fisher," he said and finally put down the pan he had been washing and dried his hands on his apron.

  Victor had been working in the kitchen for three months. A thirty year old man reduced to washing dishes for a living. He felt pathetic. He didn't know the layout of the kitchen as well as Mr Fisher but with the dim emergency lights glowing in the ceiling he managed to make it to the stairs.

  Normally, of course, he would have taken the lift up to the first floor but with the power off he guessed it wouldn't be working. Even if it was he didn't think it was a good idea to use it. If it took him a few extra minutes to get there and back then that was fine, he could feel himself getting angry with Mr Fisher and when Victor got angry things tended to end badly for someone.

  He stopped at the top of the stairs. The gold motif on the red carpet had faded almost to nothing. He listened but he couldn't hear anything in the dining room beyond the doors which was strange. Breakfast was served from six until ten but eight o-clock was the busiest time. Usually people were waiting for tables to become available.

  Victor pushed open the door and blinked in the sunlight flooded room. Dust floated lazily in the beams of light that criss-crossed the space like laser beams. Two of the tables
had been dragged together by the window and had dirty cups and plates on them. The other tables in the room looked unused and there were no people at any of them.

  He walked slowly to the windows. Outside the street was empty. The air looked hazy. He let the curtain fall back across the glass and carried on across the room to the guest entrance.

  The heavy doors squeaked as he pushed them open. In the lobby four old people stood together, two men and two women.

  "Oh excuse me," said one of the women.

  Victor turned around slowly and looked at her. She was a frail old thing with patchy yellow hair. She looked about ninety. The man standing next to her looked even older and cowered like a scared animal. "What?" said victor, making no effort to keep the anger out of his voice.

  The woman opened her mouth as if she had something else to say but clearly thought better of it and shut it again. Maybe he was being unfair; he was angry with Mr Fisher not these old folk. He started to apologise but before he could an angry voice behind him boomed. "Victor!"

  Mr Fisher apologised to the old people and told them that he was sorry but he had no idea what had happened to the power. The old folk told him that about five minutes ago a large number of people had gone running through the street past the window. Mr Fisher thanked them for the information and then told Victor they needed to go back to the kitchen.

  "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" said Mr Fisher once they were back in the stainless steel darkness of the basement kitchen.

  Victor bowed his head and felt the familiar anger start to burn inside him. It wasn't that he felt Mr Fisher's criticism was unjust, he agreed with the pudgy little chef that he'd been out of line talking to guests like that. Agreeing with him didn't help the situation, however, if anything it made it worse because he couldn't put up an argument.

  The anger inside of him had nowhere to go but Mr Fisher kept pushing him. "I have never see such idiotic behaviour, Victor I don't know how you manage not to drown in the shower every morning." Which was alright, he could handle that. It was a stupid thing to have done and he could take his punishment like a man. "You know I should have you fired for that."