The Last Resort(76)

But the woman doesn’t struggle. She just smirks.

‘Are you quite finished, Jago? Your acting has been tolerable up until now, but you seem to have lapsed into melodrama. Maybe seeing your own dark secret wasn’t such a good plan after all . . .’

James keeps her pinned to the wall, but his shoulders sag. After a long, silent moment, he says in a hollow voice, ‘You bitch, Merryn.’

He turns his head towards Amelia. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’ He draws in a long breath, releases it in a sigh. ‘I should never have gone along with this. I just thought she wanted to ruffle a few feathers. Make some sort of point. She promised to help get me back on my feet.’

‘What?’ Amelia says. ‘Help you . . . ?’

‘I’ve been struggling, ever since I moved to the mainland. That terrible scene you watched on the canal was only part of it.’

‘You were always weak, Jago,’ the woman he called Merryn says. ‘Did you really think I was going to give you a new chance at life? It’s not as if you helped me out when I needed you.’

Who is this man? Amelia wonders. And why did the woman call him Jago?

He turns back to the woman, who is still pinned up against the wall and not attempting to struggle at all. She clearly feels no threat from this man. ‘We were kids, Merryn,’ he continues. ‘We both suffered at Father’s hands. I thought you just wanted to bring Amelia back into your life. But people are dead . . . and Amelia still wants nothing to do with you.’

‘We’ll see about—’

In one swift move, James’s hands have shifted to the woman’s throat. Her face starts to turn red and her eyes bulge. Her arms go to his, grabbing him at the elbows, trying to push him off. But Amelia can see she has no real strength.

Amelia’s mind whirrs as she watches this man she knows as James continue to throttle her. Obviously the woman is behind all this, and getting rid of her means they might be able to get away. But if he kills her, there’s no chance of justice for any of the others, not to mention any insight into everything that’s gone on. Who the hell does she think she is, brandishing her moral compass . . . punishing them like this? Killing her isn’t the answer – she owes them an explanation at the very least.

Amelia throws off her blanket and rushes over to stop him from choking her to death, but before she can get to him he flinches and releases the woman’s neck, then he starts to buck and writhe, as though he’s being electrocuted. He falls to the floor, still shuddering, until a rush of bloody foam pours out of his mouth and his whole body goes slack.

‘James!’ Amelia cries out. But it’s too late.

The woman steps over him and walks over to the dining table in the main room, pulls out two chairs. ‘Come on then,’ she says.

‘What . . . what did you do to him?’

The woman shrugs. ‘The trackers’ tasering function is new. I hadn’t actually trialled it before. Might need to dial down the voltage a little. I got a slight shock myself with the first burst.’

Amelia grabs the back of the chair, feels her legs ready to buckle. ‘You killed him. Killed them all.’

The woman sighs. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Yes, I did. But it’s your fault.’





Amelia

Amelia sits down hard on the dining chair, her body heavy and numb. Her head falls forward, the weight of it too much now on her shoulders.

What have I just witnessed?

She can’t take it in. These people have died because of her. Six innocent people. OK, maybe not so innocent. Maybe they have done some terrible things – but hasn’t everyone?

The woman in black turns the other chair around, then sits on it, legs astride, leaning on the back. ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’

Amelia’s head snaps up at the sound of the familiar voice.

‘Hello, Anne. It’s been a long time.’

She looks away. ‘Don’t call me that. My name is Amelia.’

‘And mine is Merryn, but I never really liked it. I always saw myself as George. Just like the one in the stories. Living on that island, desperate for friends. When you came along that summer, I thought I’d made a friend at last. We’re blood, Anne. Don’t you remember?’

Amelia turns back to face the woman sitting before her. This is . . . George?

This woman who, according to Harvey and the various presentations, is the most gifted technological scientist in the world. This woman’s inventions have made the impossible possible. The implausible come to life.

Amelia remembers that day on the island with that strange, bright-eyed, watchful girl. The comic books, the talk of Star Trek and all the futuristic powers that George was going to harness. And then the old man. The wild-haired, desperate old man on the cliff.

She looks away, her eyes moving slowly around the room, watching the staff carry out their duties. Clearing up.

Not the food and drinks. Not the upturned chairs and the smashed glasses.

Bodies.

James’s head is still turned towards her at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide open. His mouth set forever in a silent scream. She’d thought he was a friend. An ally. He’d been part of this? But then he’d tried to help her? She still doesn’t understand.

Did all these people really die because of her? All because of one stupid mistake she’d made such a long time ago? An accident.