Halloween Party:
Wrong Place, Wrong Time #2
Copyright 2013 By P.A. Ross
www.thornsneedles.com
Halloween Party
The eerie gloom of twilight washed over the dark streets as Sarah Hargreaves walked briskly back from work. Her house was just another corner away, right at the end of the road, through the alleyway and the semi-detached immediately afterwards. The location made for quick getaways at night and early morning returns over the fence if necessary. She planned on a long hot shower, a cold beer and some trashy TV to unwind and clear her head before she rolled into bed and slept. The world around her would wake and go about their normal everyday lives. Then she would do it all again, heading back out into the night as the rest of the world relaxed safe and secure in their houses.
She scouted around the empty streets, watching for lurking shadows as she marched home. She pulled her big black overcoat closer around her. The coat wrapped around her jeans to her knees, preventing the cold from seeping in even further. She glanced up to the dark skies, which revealed the twinkling of the stars and the half-moon shining out in the fading black. Her breath froze before her, and her solid army boots pounded along the pavements as she hurried home.
Driving towards her was a dirty white van. Its front dashboard littered with newspapers and empty fast food boxes, and the driver’s figure silhouetted in the dark. A delivery driver or tradesman on their way to work, she thought as she looked at her watch. 5:50 a.m.
She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm and marched on, with her head down and her long purple hair flopped across her face. Under her coat, on her left-hand side, she could feel the reassuring bulk of her hi-powered 9mm Browning pistol, ready to be drawn at any sign of trouble.
The van went past but then skidded to a halt. Sarah turned at the sound of the van brakes and doors sliding back. Out jumped three figures, all dressed entirely in black, with balaclavas hiding all but the whites of their eyes. She watched as two of the dark figures ran through the parked cars while the third jumped onto a car boot and ran across it. She ran, reaching into her coat and pulling the gun out. Down the street, a parked black van's door slid back. Out jumped more dark figures with rifles aimed. She skidded to a halt looking for an exit, gun in hand, finger on the trigger.
‘Sarah, freeze,’ a man in front shouted.
She looked around frantically as the figures behind her pulled out pistols, blocking her path. The third figure, still stamping across the car roofs, with metal and glass crunching with each footstep, blocked the exit into the road.
She stopped and put her hands in the air. She was surrounded. They could shoot her before she even got off a single shot.
‘Remain calm, Sarah. You are in no danger,’ a dark dressed man in front said. ‘We just have questions, but you have to come with us. Put the gun on the floor.’
She nodded, flicked on the safety, crouched down to the floor and laid the gun on the pavement.
As she stood up, the two figures behind raced in, pulling her hands back and clicking them into cold metal cuffs. The third jumped off the car roof and sauntered over. He pulled a bag from his belt and threw it over her head.
She heard the van’s wheels screech backwards down the road and halt to the side. She was bundled through the gap between the parked cars into the van and cuffed to the interior metalwork. Hands reached inside her coat, carefully patting her down, looking for other weapons while avoiding any unnecessary contact.
They found the knife concealed in a sheath strapped to the small of her back and unbuckled it. They went down her legs and pulled out another knife that was wrapped around her shin and concealed under her jeans.
You could never have enough weapons, she thought. In her line of work, strange things often happened, but this was a first even for her.
The doors slid along the railings and slammed shut, and the van moved away. The others in the van said nothing to one another as they bounced along the road.
‘Where we going?’ she asked. She jolted into the sides of the van as they took a tight corner.
‘People have questions for you,’ a man's voice replied.
‘Well, just invite me for coffee then.’
‘These aren’t the type of people to ask or to be seen out in public. You should know the score,’ he answered.
She did.
#
The van carried on along the roads, turning left and right. She tried to create a mental map of her journey but realised they had gone in a circle and around a couple of roundabouts three or four times to disguise their route. The van slowed down and up ahead she heard some metal shutters rising, then the van drove through and parked up. Two of the men helped her out of the van and walked her up some stairs, through a maze of corridors, down in a lift and through another set of doors, before guiding her to sit down in a chair.
She heard other footsteps walk into the room: a high tone tip tapping that she guessed was from a woman’s shoes and a sturdier clumping of a man’s feet. The door clicked shut, a chair pulled out and the clumping footsteps thudded behind her. The bag whipped off her head, and her eyes blinked at the sudden light.
She looked around, trying to focus and saw a figure in front of her. A woman sat at the table with a folder open on the desk. Sarah guessed her to be of a similar age, mid-twenties. Her jet black hair was tied back into a neat twist. Her clothes were smart, a suit jacket and white blouse. The woman continued looking down at the notes in front of her, ignoring Sarah.
Walking to her side with the clumping footsteps was an older man, his hair shaven and a cut out of his left ear. The man adjusted his suit jacket as he looked intently at Sarah.
The woman looked up and offered a weak smile. ‘Sarah, let’s get to the point,’ she said, ‘we know who you are and what you do.’
Sarah looked at her and raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
The woman’s weak smile disintegrated, and she looked back down at the folder. ‘You are Sarah Hargreaves. You work for the Dark Watch and have belonged to their secret organisation since you were ten years old when your parents were tragically killed. During your time with the Dark Watch, they have trained you and taught you everything they know to become one of their operatives. How am I doing?’ the woman asked.
Sarah noticed a hint of an Eastern European accent. ‘Forgot to include that my parents were killed by vampires,’ she replied.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ the woman responded. ‘As a Dark Watch member, you hunt vampires and any other dark creatures threatening our society. Your first activity was to act as bait. As my gentleman colleague will say, you are hot.’
‘Damn right she is,’ the man replied.
Sarah noted his American accent and smiled in the hope she might be able to establish a connection that could help her out.
‘Yes,’ the woman said, looking disapprovingly at her colleague, ‘you have gone beyond that to become a prolific hunter and killer of these creatures. You have an impressive record, Miss Hargreaves.’
Sarah felt proud that her achievements had drawn such attention. She grinned with satisfaction at the thought that maybe she was being promoted or recruited. ‘Great. You know about me, but who are you and what do you want?’ she asked.
The woman looked back at her notes again and then leaned back in her chair. ‘We are part of an organisation working on an international scope and that is all I will tell you. You can call me, Kate, if it helps.’
‘Kate, I work for a secret organisation that has power and influence. Do you think they will be
happy about you kidnapping me?’ Sarah asked
‘Kidnapping is such a strong word,’ Kate answered. ‘It’s just questions and once we are happy we will let you go. Sarah, secret organisations exist within secret organisations. The Dark Watch belongs to a bigger group. We represent that bigger group. Therefore, you work for us.’
‘Okay, whatever,’ Sarah replied, knowing she wouldn’t get a proper answer. The Dark Watch had secrets; she knew that. How else do you maintain a secret organisation? Even after working for them for fifteen years, she knew she didn’t know the true extent of their reach. ‘So, what are your questions then?’ she asked. ‘Let's get this over with. I have been working all night.’
‘Good. We have an understanding. Halloween Party, three weeks ago. Tell us what happened.’
Sarah’s eyes rolled as she slumped back into her chair. It was the question she least wanted and had hoped it wouldn't be asked.
‘A problem, Miss Hargreaves?’ Kate asked.
‘No problem. You obviously know some of the story. What do you want to know?’
‘Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.’
The man bent down to a bag and offered her a bottle of water.
‘Cuffs,’ Sarah replied, rattling them against the wooden chair.
He walked behind her and unlocked them, stuffing them back into his suit pocket.
Sarah rubbed her wrists and stretched her arms to push the blood flow back into her hands. She twisted the cap off the bottle and gulped the water down. It was a delaying tactic to give her time to compose herself to recite the story she had rehearsed every evening since. Her mind drifted back to the events of three weeks ago, and she shuddered as the memories replayed in her mind, but she focused through it and began to talk.
#
‘I had been hunting down a new cell of vampires operating in the London area. Intelligence reports suggested they were using humans to entrap other humans. These humans were often people that wanted to become vampires – apprentices they were called. The disappearances recently all centred on a suspected apprentice called Luke Robinson.
‘Luke fitted the stereotype of an apprentice; he was into Gothic and dark culture, he dressed in black and had ears and nose pierced. He hung out at alternative style pubs and nightclubs and went to gigs of like-minded people: other Goths, Emos, Punks and Metallers. Other agents had done the legwork in finding out his favourite hangouts and operating methods. He would make friends and invite them to parties, from which people would disappear, and then he would move on. He picked loners usually, which made his friendship easy.
‘I used my cover personality of a computer security geek called Sarah Lansdown, who had moved to the area recently and was looking to make friends. I dyed my hair purple, applied black makeup and dressed up in Goth gear with a hint of Emo. A black skirt and tights with red boots and a multi-layered purple, red and black slashed t-shirt and a knee length black leather jacket. I hoped to catch his attention and get invited to one of his infamous parties. I got a rental house in the area, and I immersed myself in the alternative Gothic culture, to blend in and gain trust. With Halloween only five weeks away, I felt sure I stood a good chance of getting an invite and finding out the truth. Halloween seemed the perfect date for a recruitment party.
‘As you said, I am hot, and I usually don't struggle to attract men. I hung around a few pubs. I started in the Captain’s Cabin and chatted to a couple of guys, Steve and John, who fitted the profile of victims, dressed all in gothic black clothing. They were at the back of the bar, playing pool. I made friends in the hope that one of them might introduce me to Luke, or mention the party in the forthcoming weeks. For once, my good looks seemed to go against me, as I met suspicion from the two guys. I dived into the toilets, scruffed my hair up and applied some thicker black makeup in the hope it would help. It didn’t make any difference, but I bought them a few drinks and talked about playing World of Warcraft, and they settled. I told them I was new to the area and looking to make friends. I found out about other pubs and hangouts to try and tapped them into my phone. I exchanged phone numbers with them, and I dropped hints I was desperate to find a good Halloween party. With the mission completed, I dived out of the pub before their courage built up into a messy attempt to kiss me.
‘The next night I tried the other places from the intelligence list and the tips from the guys in the Captain’s Cabin. Over the next few nights, I tried the Prince William, Nag’s Head and the King Charles. I made a new friend in the Nag’s Head – Lucy. She told me they were off into the City for a gig of some Gothic/Punk Metal band. To keep my cover, I went along as well, hoping Luke might attend or that I would at least get introduced to more people and improve my cover story. Luke didn’t attend but I enjoyed the night anyway, and it secured my friendship with Lucy.
‘The weeks went by without any luck and Halloween was looming. After another night of wandering the pubs alone, I headed home, diving into the King Charles pub on the way back. The KC is an old-fashioned type of pub. The red seat fabric is ripped and has holes in it with the foam poking out. The carpet old and dirty having seen too many spilt drinks. The locals sit along the bar, but at the back tucked into a corner a younger crowd tends to gather. That night, in the corner, Luke stood drinking a pint of Guinness and looked like one himself with his black coat, boots, trousers and white streaked hair. He was chatting with Steve and John that I’d met in the Captain’s Cabin a couple of weeks before. I walked over and smiled at Steve to say hello and purposefully bumped into Luke, making him spill his drink, which sloshed over his hands and down his 'Jesus and Mary Chain' t-shirt.
“I am so sorry, let me get you another one,” I said, dabbing my hands on his chest to brush away the liquid.
“Okay, another pint of Guinness,” he said, as he continued to mop it away with a few paper towels the barman had handed over.
I got him another drink. “Hi, I'm Sarah. Pleased to meet you,” I said, handing over his pint of Guinness
“Cheers. I'm Luke.”
“I am so sorry, Luke. Is there anything I could do to make it up to you?” I asked, smiling and tilting my head to one side. I flicked my hair back to reveal my neck and looked up at him.
‘He gulped and his lips pursed together. He took a couple more gulps and looked back at me. “I’m sure you could.” He smiled. “Maybe another time,” he said, and moved away to talk to others in the group.
‘I couldn't believe he turned me down.’
#
Kate interrupted, ‘Maybe you were a little too eager. Too obvious.’
‘I find you usually can't be obvious enough with most men,’ Sarah replied and winked at the man standing next to Kate.
He smiled and adjusted his jacket.
Kate looked at her colleague, shook her head and sighed.
#
‘Anyway,’ Sarah continued, ‘he wandered off and started talking to other people. I watched from afar and noticed he seemed more intent on talking to couples and handing out invites to them. I realised I needed to be in a couple to get his attention. I had been seeing a man for the last couple of weeks, and on our next night out I took him on the bar tour, trying to find Luke and get an invite.
‘We ended up at the KC, in the corner again, and my boyfriend bought us a couple of drinks. We sat down at the edge of a group of four at the table next to us. They were all from the same alternative crowd.
“Seems a nice place,” my boyfriend said. “How come we’ve never been here before?”
“Oh, just thought it would make a change,” I said, as I scanned around the bar watching out for Luke to appear.
“I guess I have a lot to learn about you, Sarah. You still haven't told me what you do for a living,” he said.
‘I used my standard response. “I.T. Security,” I replied.
“Really, but why the night working?” he asked, as I had rarely taken the night off in my search for Luke.
“I am on s
hifts, monitoring the internet for cyber attacks. I work for the government, and I am not allowed to talk about it,” I said, still more interested in watching the crowd. I knew my cover would stand, as I had falsified records and a persona created by The Dark Watch to conceal my activities.
“Oh. That explains it, I suppose. Seems strange we've been going out for a few weeks and haven't really talked about the normal stuff.”
I looked around at him and into his crystal blue eyes. “Normal stuff is boring. I prefer a little mystery. Well, you might as well tell me what you do.”
“I study history,” he replied proudly.
“Oh. Never mind,” I replied. For some reason, I expected something more exciting.
He looked deflated and sipped his drink. I went back to watching the crowd.
“Sarah,” he said, “I guess this isn't the time or the place, but I wanted to talk to you properly. You often seem so distracted, especially tonight.”
I stopped scanning and turned to listen more intently. “Sorry, work gets in the way sometimes. It’s hard to shut off in my line of work,” I said, which wasn't a lie. When you are out at night, you are constantly on guard in my line of work, especially that night when I was actually working.
“I understand it's easy to get too involved in your work.”
“Even in History,” I said.
He nodded. “Like I said, I want to talk properly. I have really enjoyed the last few weeks. I would like to see you more often if that is okay?” he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder.
‘It took me by surprise. I didn't really have thoughts of our relationship on my mind and felt a bit guilty using him as bait that night. My cheeks flushed, and I quickly knocked back some drink, as I looked again into his crystal blue eyes.
‘The last few weeks had been good, better than with anyone else. He accepted my strange behaviour and working hours. In fact, the weirder I acted, the more he appeared to like it. Most men gave up at this point, fed up with a girlfriend with such a strong personality and physique. Yet, he was no pushover either, and when he really felt strongly about something he would stand his ground. He also kept fit and had a well-defined body, which was a bonus. He wouldn't have any trouble finding an easier going girlfriend, a more normal girlfriend, but he wanted me.