As fear thudded in Alexa’s ears, she ordered herself to focus on details. Distinctive features, unusual movements – anything that could identify the captor – but their clothing bore no brand labels to suggest they were rich or poor, fashionable or not. The only thing to note was that their clothes looked new, almost as if they were bought for this purpose.
Another footstep brought the figure even closer.
Tucked under their arm was a polaroid camera. What it was to be used for, Alexa didn’t know. She didn’t want to find out.
The next step came. Smaller, this time, as if the captor was enjoying the anticipation of their arrival.
Laid flat, it was impossible for Alexa to pinpoint their height. They looked tall, but most people would from that angle. They looked broad, but that impression could have been from their oversized clothing rather than their frame.
Alexa’s chin trembled as she realised there was nothing unusual to note about them. They were just a body.
A body that had come to a stop beside her chest.
At first, the pair simply stared at each other. Alexa, trying to figure out the colour of the captor’s eyes even though they were shadowed by their mask. Her captor, taking in the result of the injuries they had inflicted. For the brief moment in which their curiosity levelswere matched, the pair were united. But the captor broke the union by raising their right forearm.
‘Please don’t,’ Alexa whimpered.
The captor stopped, frozen as if they couldn’t understand the words or their meaning.
‘Please,’ Alexa whispered again, her hoarse voice making her desperation sound even more pathetic.
As Alexa’s tearful eyes bore through the slits in her captor’s mask, she hunted for a sign to reassure her that she would be okay, but Alexa saw nothing of the sort. She tried to blame it on the mask’s concealment or her impaired vision, but Alexa Clarke knew the truth: she saw no humanity there because there was none to be found.
And, as her captor moved once more, Alexa realised just how true that statement was.
The captor’s gloved hand gripped her jaw, then forced Alexa’s head to turn. Now she was facing the wall, the wound at the back of Alexa’s head was exposed. It was deep. Even deeper than the captor thought, they were delighted to discover. The blood caked around the site was rancid. Infection would set in soon, if it hadn’t already.
But before then, the captor had work to do. Curling their fingers, all but one, the captor moved towards the wound peeping from behind Alexa’s blood-crusted hair.
‘Please,’ she begged, but the request only fuelled the captor’s desire to plunge their finger into the gash obliterating the back of Alexa Clarke’s head. Instinctively, a shrill scream flew from her mouth. Even with her raw throat, the sound erupting from Alexa was impressive, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt.
The deliciousness of her scream awakened something within the captor. An energy they reserved solely for times like this. They pressed harder and deeper into the wound until Alexa Clarke’s world went blank as she passed out from the pain.
CHAPTER 34
Friday should be my favourite day of the week. It’s the day Kamal works from home, a post-Covid gift from his office, aimed to provide the impression of a work–life balance. For Kamal, the opportunity for a lie-in eases him into the weekend. For me, having him in the house makes keeping up the pretence that I am hard at work near impossible.
In a rare act of thoughtfulness, I’ve brought Kamal a coffee in bed. That’s when the doorbell rings.
‘Who is it?’ he asks as I move towards the window.
My lips part to reply, but I’m too busy trying not to gasp.
Kamal notices my stiffness. ‘Janine?’ he questions. When I don’t reply, he leaves the bed and stands behind me. ‘Do you know those people?’
‘It’s… it’s the police.’
I sense Kamal frown. ‘Why would the police be here?’
‘I think it might be to do with Alexa Clarke.’
I don’t need to say more. Kamal springs into action, throwing his dressing-gown on. ‘I’ll let them in,’ he says. ‘Get dressed and come downstairs whenever you’re ready.’
With that, he leaves the room.
Before I do anything, I message Gabby.
The police are at my house. I don’t know if they saw me at Families United. Do they know about the diary yet?