The Mermaid's Revenge Read online

  “What's happening?” she gurgles, as Mr. Randall tries to support her. She's slipping down against the floor, and the cloth around her stump is already dripping with blood.

  “I didn't get it in time!” he gasps. “I wasn't quick enough.”

  “Help me!” she screams, but the blobs are already forming across her face and a moment later they start bursting. Her scream becomes an anguished wail, and finally Mr. Randall drops her and stumbles back.

  Writhing on the floor, Ms. Harper continues to scream as more and more blood bursts from the lesions on her face. After a moment she turns and tries crawling toward the door, but she manages only a couple of attempts before slumping down again. I see her face for a moment, but then another black blob bursts in her eye and I turn away. I squeeze my own eyes tight shut and put my fingers in my ears, but I can still hear her agonized cries for several more seconds until finally the room falls silent again.

  I wait, before slowly opening my eyes and turning to see that her body is slumped against the floor. There's blood everywhere, smeared as a trail leading back toward the center of the room. More black blobs are popping all across Ms. Harper's skin, but other than that she's not moving at all. After a moment, I'm just about able to make out her face, and I see that her features are locked in a broken, ruptured scream.

  Trembling with shock, I step back against the wall. My knees buckle and I drop down to the floor, and that's when I realize that I've soiled myself. At the same time, I can't help staring at Ms. Harper's dead face. A few more of the blobs burst, and then finally her body falls still.

  “Jenny?” Mr. Randall says after a moment, his voice filled with fear. “Jenny, I...”

  He hesitates, and then he turns to me. He stares for a moment, and then he steps closer, reaching out to grab my arm.

  “Sylvia -”

  “No!” I scream, turning and running toward the double doors, only for him to step in my way. Almost slamming into him, I manage to change direction at the last moment, and I run past the computer terminals before racing into one of the back rooms that Doctor Collier used to use.

  “Sylvia, come back!” Mr. Randall shouts, and I can hear him running after me. “Sylvia, you have to stay calm!”

  Finding myself in some kind of large storeroom, I hurry through the next door, although I stop as soon as I see the remains of the fish-man on the metal table. Too terrified to stop, I run around the table and over to some doors on the far wall. I need to find somewhere to hide. If I can hide and Mr. Randall doesn't find me, he might just give up and leave me alone.

  “Sylvia!” he calls out. “Where are you?”

  Reaching the first door, I tug on the handle, but it won't open. I try the next, then the next, and then finally one of the handles turns. As I pull the door open, however, I feel a blast of cold air and I realize that I've accidentally found one of the freezer units. I'm about to push the door back shut, when something large and heavy comes crashing out, bumping against me and almost knocking me down.

  I step out of the way, and then I turn to see Mother's dead, frozen body slamming down against the tiled floor.

  I scream, stepping back against the wall, but now I can't run. All I can do is stare at her horrified, open-mouthed face, and then at the hand that she's still holding curled against her chest.

  Suddenly a hand touches my shoulder. Gasping, I turn to find Mr. Randall towering over me.

  “I'm sorry, Sylvia,” he says, not sounding quite so calm as usual, “but I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “Where are we going?” I sob, as he drags me through into one of the laboratory's back rooms. “What's going to happen to Ms. Harper?”

  “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, shoving me against a wall before opening a cupboard and rifling through for something. “I don't have time to stand around explaining things to a scared little girl!”

  “Why was Mother in the freezer?” I ask. “Why -”

  “There's no way to make you understand, Sylvia!”

  I open my mouth to ask what he means, but suddenly his words cut deep into my soul.

  “I'm not a scared little girl,” I whimper, even as tears stream down my face. “I'm not!”

  Mumbling something under his breath, something that I don't hear, Mr. Randall hurries to the next cupboard, and then the next. He keeps checking his watch, as if we're running late for something.

  “I'm not a scared little girl!” I shout again, and I can feel my anger starting to grow. No matter how hard I try to hold back, the rage is getting stronger, although finally I manage to focus enough and I feel the worst start to fade.

  For now, at least.

  “Thank God!” Mr. Randall says suddenly, taking some files from one of the cupboards. He starts looking through them, before storming past me and heading over to a white metal box on the counter. “That's all he'll need. He can wing the rest.”

  “Please,” I sob, “just -”

  “Shut up, Sylvia!”

  “I'm only -”

  “SHUT UP!” Suddenly he turns and grabs me by the shoulders, hauling me up and slamming me back against the wall with such force that I let out a startled cry.

  “Please don't hurt me!” I scream, already remembering what he did to Doctor Collier.

  For a moment he stares at me with pure hatred in his eyes, as if he really might hurt me, but then I see a flicker of regret in his features.

  “I need you to keep your mouth shut,” he says, sounding a little breathless, “and just let me gather the things I need. Is that understood, Sylvia? You're too young and too much of a baby to get what's going on, so I need you to just do what you're told.” He pauses, still holding me against the wall as if he thinks he might need to get violent again. “Do you understand?” he adds finally, making the question sound more like a threat.

  “I think so,” I stammer, but I'm so scared I can barely even think straight. “I mean... I think so...”

  He hesitates, before letting me down until my feet touch the ground. My knees are trembling, though, and I support myself against the nearest table as I watch him heading over to the white metal box.

  Not knowing what else to do, I watch as he carefully opens the box. Some kind of white smoke immediately billows out, but he reaches into the smoke and fiddles with something before slowly taking out some kind of glass bottle. Then he turns and comes this way, and as he sets the bottle on the table I realize with a sense of horror that I can see the mermaid's orangey-red little eggs floating in some kind of liquid.

  “Where did you get those?” I gasp.

  “No questions,” he says darkly, inspecting the bottle for a moment before starting to slip it into a bag along with the folders.

  “Where did you get them?” I ask again, feeling my anger start to rise again. “Are they hers? Did you take them from her?”

  “Sylvia -”

  “You said you wouldn't hurt her!” I scream, rushing at him and slamming against his side, while banging my fists against his chest as my anger finally explodes. “You said you were going to help her!”

  “Stop this at once!” he snaps.

  “You promised!” I yell, hitting again and again until he finally grabs my wrists and holds me tight. With tears streaming down my face, I look up at him and see that he seems shocked by my outburst. “I told you about her eggs and you stole them from her! I should never have said anything!”

  He starts to say something, but I shut him up by stamping hard against his foot.

  He lets out a cry of pain, and I manage to slip from his grasp. Turning, I try to grab the bag that contains the bottle, but at the last moment Mr. Randall pushes me out of the way. I try again, and this time he swings a fist at me, hitting me on the side of my mouth and sending me crumpling to the floor. Gasping, I'm about to get up when I taste blood, and I look down to see a few red specks dribbling down onto my hands.

  Breathless now, I slowly look up and see Mr. Randa
ll towering over me.

  “That all got a little out of hand, Sylvia, didn't it?” he says, his voice betraying a sense of shock. “I hope you're going to calm down now.”

  “You have to give her eggs back to her,” I reply.

  “I have to do no such thing,” he explains. “If it helps, though, they're going to come with us. They're very much part of the purchase price that I've agreed with Mr. Flemyng. Having a mermaid is one thing, but it's quite another to have the ability to produce more mermaids.”

  “That's why she was angry!” I gasp. “It's why she killed Ms. Harper! She wants her eggs back!”

  “Yes, well...” He sighs, before checking his watch. “As you of all people should understand, Sylvia,” he continues, “mothers can be driven to do very silly things when they think they're protecting their children. Most often, they become quite irrational. Now will you please get up off the floor and come with me? I'm tired of this childish bullshit.”

  For a moment, all I can do is stare up at him. Then, slowly, I start wiping the tears from my cheeks, along with the snot from my nose, and finally I start getting to my feet. I feel strangely calm, but at the same time there's a fresh wave of anger rising up through my chest, and a moment later I realize that without even thinking I've begun to clench both my fists.

  Suddenly Mr. Randall's phone beeps.

  “At last,” he says with a sigh, checking the phone. “They're here, Sylvia. We really don't have time to -”

  “I'm never going with you!” I scream, launching myself at him again and pummeling as hard as I can manage.

  This time I actually manage to catch him off-guard, and he falls back until he slams down against the floor. Climbing onto him, I start hitting him again, over and over, even as he tries to cover his face with his arms. All I can think right now is that he lied to me, and that he betrayed Mother by hurting the mermaid, and that he stole those eggs. The rage gets stronger and stronger, and I don't let up hitting him, not even when he starts begging me to hold back.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “No!” I yell as Mr. Randall carries me up the dark, narrow stairwell and then through the door, out onto the building's roof. “I don't want to go!”

  Kicking and screaming, I'm suddenly blinded by the brightest light I've ever seen in my life, burning through the cold night air. There's a loud rushing noise and the wind is howling all around me, and a moment later I see that a helicopter has landed ahead. Several men are already loading the mermaid's unconscious body into the back of the helicopter, while a door on the side has been left open.

  “Calm down!” Mr. Randall hisses. “No-one's going to hurt you!”

  “Put me down!” I scream, trying harder and harder to get free. “I want to go home!”

  “Are we taking her?” an unfamiliar voice asks as we get closer to the helicopter.

  “We can't exactly leave her here,” Mr. Randall replies, shoving me into the helicopter and then finally letting go of me. There are some cuts on his face from where I hit him. “She's hysterical, but I know how to calm her down.”

  I immediately try to jump out, to run back into the building, but another arm grabs me and pulls me back. I scream and kick, but I'm being held too tight. The wind is so strong up here on the roof, I'm starting to shiver violently, but all I can think about is the fact that I have to get back downstairs to the apartment. Twisting around, I see an older man holding my arms, and I try to kick him away.

  “That's alright, young lady,” he says calmly. “I've had worse than you on my ride before.”

  “Leave me alone!” I scream. “I want to go back in!”

  “Are we all loaded up?” the man asks, and then I hear another voice tell him that they're ready to go.

  Turning, I see Mr. Randall climbing into the helicopter, and then a moment later the large metal door slides shut with a bang. I try to lunge for the handle, but the other man is holding me back and then I hear a loud surging sound from above. Looking up, I see that the helicopter's rotors are turning much faster now, and a moment later the whole thing shakes slightly as it starts lifting up from the helipad.

  “No!” I scream, sobbing wildly as I try again and again to get out. If I can get the door open, I might still be able to jump. “I don't want to go!”

  “Are you going to give her that thing or not?” the man asks, sounding annoyed as the helicopter swings around.

  Weeping, I slip out of his hands and fall against the floor. At that moment, the helicopter tilts as it moves past the edge of the building, and I'm horrified to see the helipad getting further and further away. I can also see the lights in Mother's apartment, including the lights in the lounge, and I can just about make out the window where I used to stand and look out at the city. And then suddenly the helicopter swings around and rushes past several more buildings, and I watch in horror as Mother's apartment disappears into the distance. Soon, the lights of the windows are lost among all the other lights of the city. I know the building is out there somewhere, but everything looks the same.

  “I want to go home,” I whimper, with tears streaming down my face. “I want to -”

  Suddenly I feel something sharp sliding into my neck. I pull away and turn, and I see that Mr. Randall is holding an empty syringe.

  “That'll help you sleep during the journey,” he explains, as the lights of the city flash across his face. “Don't fight it, Sylvia. Just let it pull you into a nice, deep sleep.”

  “I don't want to!” I sob, but I can already feel my body getting heavier and heavier. “I don't want to go anywhere!”

  “Sleep now,” he continues. “I'll explain everything when we get there.”

  I try to shout at him, but instead my eyes slip shut and I fall back down against the helicopter's floor. I'm shivering and terrified, and I can hear the men talking, but the vibration of the helicopter is lulling me to sleep. At the very last moment, just as I lose consciousness, I hear Mr. Randall's voice one more time:

  “Don't be scared, Sylvia,” he says firmly. “Mr. Flemyng's waiting for us. Maybe he'll have a better idea about what to do with you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Wake up.”

  Everything is dark and quiet and calm. At the same time, something stirs in me, some vague awareness that I exist. This lasts for a moment before I start slipping away again, back into the void of -

  “Wake up.”

  I open my eyes.

  My head is pounding and all I can see is a gray wall. I don't recognize that wall, but it takes a few seconds before I even think to look around. Sitting up on the bed, I start feeling dizzy, although the sensation quickly passes and is replaced by a feeling of nausea. That, too, fades after a moment, leaving me sitting all alone on the bed as I finally realize that I don't seem to be at home. Looking around, I have no idea where I am.

  “Mother?” I whisper, hoping against hope that she might come to me, that it was all a bad dream.

  No, wait.

  Mother can't come to me.

  Why can't Mother come to me?

  Then it hits.

  Mother's dead.

  For a fraction of a second, in my mind's eye, I see a metal door swing open, and Mother's frozen body slides out and cracks against the tiled floor. I remember stepping back, horrified, and then...

  And then there was a helicopter.

  I remember staring out at the city beneath me, at the streets lit up at night by cars. I remember the helicopter swinging out across London, and then there was a pain in the side of my neck. That was when the darkness came, and even now I can feel the same darkness starting to claim me again. Even as I sit on the bed, it's as if gray hands are reaching up from the mattress to pull me back down, and I'm too weak to resist. Closing my eyes, I start to sink again. I sink and I sink and I -

  “Wake up.”

  “What?” I gasp, sitting up again and this time clambering off the bed. I look around the gloomy room, but I don't see anyone nearby. Still, I'm certain
I heard a voice, and I don't think it was the first time. I've heard the same voice, saying the same thing, and somehow until this moment I never quite noticed.

  After waiting just in case the voice comes back, I finally realize that I have to get out of here. There's a door on the far side of the room, although apart from the bed there's no other furniture. I take a step forward, before noticing a set of gray curtains covering the window. I can see light at the edges of the curtains, so I know it must be daytime by now. I can't help feeling nervous as I step closer, and then finally I pull the curtains aside slightly and I look out.

  Gasping with shock, I see a calm, beautiful blue sea rippling beneath a sunny sky.

  There are no buildings, no roads, and no planes in the sky. Just the sea spread out before me, as far as the eye can see in every direction. I've seen this kind of thing on TV before, of course, and after a moment I touch the window just to check that this isn't some kind of illusion. Wherever I am, I must be a long way from London, and I'm high up, too, since the sea must be at least two or three hundred meters below the window.

  Stepping back, I try to figure out exactly where I am.

  And then I remember Ms. Harper.

  She was screaming as she died, with bubbles of black blood bursting through her skin. One of her eyes even popped. For a few seconds, I can only replay that horrific sight over and over again, along with the disgusting cracking thud that I heard when Mr. Randall cut her arm off. That sound was so clear and so gross, and now it's ringing in my ears as if it's never going to leave me alone. Filled with a sense of panic, I finally realize that I have to get out of here, so I race to the door and pull it open, only to find myself at one end of a long corridor with a floor-to-ceiling window running along the right-hand side.

  I take a step forward and look out, and once again I'm faced with a vast and beautiful view of the sea.