The air drifting through the open bedroom window was the hot rancid breath of an impending storm. Eyes fixed on the glowing light of the digital clock, Kate felt for her wrist and found a steady beat, watching and waiting for the minute to click over. As she’d suspected, her pulse was racing, heart thumping in her chest like a kettledrum. Seeing the house plunged into darkness had sent her reeling out of the chair, arms waving wildly in an utter panic.
When the back-up power system switched itself on a few moments later, the relief had been so immense that she’d staggered and almost fallen. Knowing the deep primitive terror of sudden darkness to be an irrational reaction was one thing; dealing with it calmly and sensibly was quite different.
The fail-safe power supply, superior to most hospital operating theatre systems, could deal with any interruption in power, maintaining her security screens at full power until the main system kicked back in. ‘Calm down,’ she muttered to herself, but without any certainty of being able to act on her own advice. Eventually, at some point in the long night, her over-active mind put up its hands and cried uncle. Enough was enough and Kate sank into a dream-ravaged sleep.
Marcus stood silently in the darkness, still as a crouching tiger, waiting for his senses to adjust to their surroundings. Computer screens surrounded him; red lights flashing intermittently as their respective hard drives acted out instructions. The programme he’d introduced into Kate’s system was still working away. In a few more hours all data would have been permanently removed. Marcus moved stealthily through the room, carefully avoiding chairs and other obstacles. He had exceptional night vision and his other senses were on full alert. With the aid of a tiny penlight, he picked up and discarded several sheets of paper. He was moving away when a laminated card took his attention. He flicked it over and stiffened as the logo was revealed. Marcus stood very still, concentrating fiercely. He had a sudden premonition that the identity card he was holding symbolised a threat to his security and slipped it into his pocket.
Reaching the door, he stepped through into a wide corridor and stood very still, listening for any sound which threatened to disrupt the absolute silence. At last he heard what he’d been waiting for. A soft exhalation of breath and the creak of some inanimate object. A sleeper turning over in bed. Moving like a wraith in a misty forest, he moved silently along the corridor and stood outside a partially open door where a faint glimmer of light penetrated the darkness. He heard a faint rustle from inside the room, eased through the doorway and, by the light of a bedside clock radio, saw a prone figure lying on a single bed in the centre of the room.
Marcus stood right next to the sleeping figure.
Silent and immobile.
Waiting.
This was the best moment for him; that brief interlude when the sleeping victim gradually became aware of his presence. He’d experienced it many times; this remnant of an animal instinct for self-preservation, but never failed to be stirred by it. The sleeping figure would pass from a state of utter repose to one of abject terror, all without any action being required on his part.
Kate’s eyelids fluttered, her chest rising and falling, then her eyes flew open and she looked unerringly at Marcus and screamed. Exactly as he’d known she would. He reached towards her and slapped her face hard, turning on the bedside light with his other hand. Dressed all in black, his tanned face impassive, he stared at her until he saw her turn away.
There was no necessity for him to speak. She had never seen him before, but the air of menace emanating from every pore would have conveyed to her more effectively than mere words that something unspeakably evil had entered her life.
