Half Face Page 2

  I stare at him, my mouth hanging slightly open. Is he allowed to talk to me?

  ‘I would ask you to refrain from speaking at this time, sir,’ the judge says at once, answering my question.

  ‘I think Juliet should understand –’

  ‘Sir, you will have a chance to speak later.’

  The Half Face leans back in his chair, his eyes steadily on me. He doesn’t speak anymore, but his smile doesn’t return either.

  ‘Please, tell us what happened after the masked men had obtained the money from the bank,’ asks the prosecutor. She sounds unperturbed, as if the Half Face has not interrupted us and turned my cheeks scarlet.

  I collect my thoughts. ‘He…The Half Face, he told the others to go. Then he – he bowed.’

  ‘Did he or his men shoot any more people on their way out?’

  ‘Not that I could tell with my head down.’

  The prosecutor nods. ‘What did you do after they had left?’

  ‘I waited until the other survivors started talking,’ I admit, remembering how I had remained quietly on the floor, my limbs too weak to move properly. I had tasted vomit in my mouth. ‘By the time I stood up, Harry – Mister Dartes – had called 911.’

  ‘Were you familiar with Mister Dartes at that time?’

  ‘No, he just took care of me. He is the strongest one.’

  ‘Miss Cunningham, thank you.’ The prosecutor smiles at me. ‘I have no more questions.’

  Relief washes over me, and for the first time I find that I’m able to relax my muscles. ‘Can I leave now?’

  ‘You may.’

  My attendant on this side of the door crosses over to where I’m sitting. I stand up, following him to the polished door. My heart settles into its usual steady rhythm. I’ve done it – I got through the hearing without crying, and I will never have to see that black-and-white mask again. Maybe the nightmares won’t visit me tonight.

  Before I can step out, I hear his voice trailing after me: ‘Ju-lie, where’re you going?’

  A shiver runs down my spine, but I don’t stop. Two seconds later, my attendant closes the door and I am out in the hallway, where the air conditioner blows cold air in my face.

  Chapter 3

  Taken

  I’m taken back to that same glum waiting room where I began. While I was in the courtroom, someone must have come and removed the untouched cup of tea, because it is no longer there. Without sitting down, I turn to my attendant. ‘Am I allowed to go home?’

  ‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘There’s some information we need you to fill in. If you could wait here, I will get you the forms. It will take only a minute or two,’ he adds, seeing my face fall into an exhausted expression. ‘You have been brave, Juliet. Facing him today is what will help us remove him from society for a long time.’

  I nod and lower myself onto the chair. The attendant walks out, leaving the door open a crack. I wonder what is going to happen to the Half Face now. I’m not a doctor, but this guy seems to have a few bolts and screws loose. Maybe I should stick around and hear the conviction. But no. I’m too tired, and the hearing might go on for hours. It doesn’t matter anyway; it will be all over the news eventually.

  I remember my phone, stuffed away in the pocket of my skirt, and pull it out.

  For the first time this day, I manage a real smile. The liveblog is describing most of my testimony, including me leaving the room and the judge’s decision to take a ten minute recess.

  I decide to send a text message to my mom. She’d wanted to come with me today, but I had told her no. I couldn’t really explain it then, and I can’t quite explain it now. Maybe I just needed to look the Half Face in the eyes on my own, just like I had been alone in the hall of Fallhallow National Bank.

  I’ll be coming home soon, I type out on my phone and press send.

  It only takes a few seconds for a reply to show up on the screen: Did it go well? Are you alright, sweetheart?

  Yes, things are good. See you soon. X

  I put my phone back in my pocket and drum on the tabletop with my fingers. What’s taking the attendant so long retrieving a couple of forms? I get up and cross the entire room, which only takes four steps. The hallway outside is deserted.

  A shrill noise pierces the solemn quiet of the Justice Hall. It’s a high-pitched and penetrating sound, like a fire alarm. I jump. My nerves – still not completely calm anyway – are immediately back on edge. I step out of the room and scan the corridor left and right. Is there a fire somewhere? I can’t see anything out of the ordinary, but what else could have caused the alarm to go off so suddenly?

  The noise just keeps screeching, coming towards me from all directions. I cast another nervous look around, but there’s still no sight of my attendant. Should I stay and wait for him to give me instructions? But what if there really is a fire somewhere close? I could get trapped. There’s only a little window in the waiting room, and it’s far too small for me to climb through in case of an emergency.

  I will just go down to the lobby, where security searched me before I was allowed to enter the main building. Surely, someone there will be able to tell me

  what’s going on. I think I remember the way.

  I start to make my way down the corridor, when the alarm bells stop as abruptly as they had started. Automatically, I slow down, listening to the dead silence. My ears stop ringing and I hear two female voices calling something to each other somewhere up ahead. I can’t understand what they’re saying, but they sound rather shrill. Another voice joins them, booming a command. The two women don’t reply and the alarm doesn’t go off again.

  There’s a few seconds in which I think that everything is back to normal. Then, the lights in the corridor go out without a warning. I am left in complete darkness, with only a faint glow ahead of me. Now I really stop walking, trying to take in the shadows. What the hell is going on? A power outage? My heart starts thumping in my throat.

  A door opens and closes softly, only a little way ahead of me. There’s just enough light for me to see a silhouette of a person emerging from the doorway, pausing.

  ‘I’m sorry…I think there’s something wrong with the power,’ I say hesitantly.

  ‘Yeah, something’s up,’ the person replies.

  Relief washes over me. For some reason I was afraid, but now it dawns on me how ridiculous that was. If this isn’t the safest building in Fallhallow, then what is? I smile and approach the other person, a lawyer or another court attendant, coming out of his office to see what the fuss and the noise is all about. ‘Can you help me? I was supposed to wait, but my attendant never returned. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go, but I would like to go home as soon as…’

  Something about his stance sets off a warning bell in my head. He is still hard to make out in the shadows, but I can see that he has very broad shoulders, now slightly hunched, like he is trying to make himself smaller than he actually is, and that he is cocking his head slightly to the left, as if he’s trying to hear if something is happening in the corridors ahead of us, while also keeping his attention fixed on me.

  I feel coldness spread from my abdomen to every part of my body. But it can’t be, it’s impossible –

  He breaks away from the doorway and makes a few relaxed, almost casual steps in my direction. I can hear that he drags his left foot over the floor; slowly, then his right, then his left again.

  ‘I can help you, Julie.’

  That low rasp in his voice punches me in the face like a fist. For a few seconds I am too shocked to move, or even to wonder how it is possible that a man who was handcuffed in the courtroom just minutes ago is now standing in front of me. He takes those few seconds to eliminate the distance between us, until his face becomes visible, and I can distinguish those sharp eyes staring down at me.

  ‘You…you…you’re not supposed to be here,’ I stammer.

  ‘Who told you that?’ he asks, a certain relish still clear in his voice, even though he tones d
own the volume to match my own breathy, faltering sound. ‘Because you see, Jools, according to my plan, I’m definitely supposed to be here.’

  Scream, Juliet!

  ‘SOMEONE HELP M –’ My cry is cut off by his hand clamping down on my mouth, his fingertips sinking into my cheek.

  ‘Somebody help her, help her!’ he mimics a panicky voice, not loud enough for anyone but me to hear. The next moment, I feel myself being whipped around by my shoulders, so he is standing behind me and he can wrap his free arm around my waist. I’m shocked when my body slams directly into his. ‘Please, don’t scream, Juliet. The good folks of the Justice House might think you’re in trouble.’

  While he talks, I feel his warm breath tickling my neck. His tight grip, and the sheer dread that spins my head, make me freeze on the spot. He shifts behind me, slipping his hand to my lower arm and wrenching it behind my back painfully. I let out a gasp.

  ‘Hush,’ he mutters. I hear a metallic click. Something cold presses against the sensitive skin of my throat; the blade of a knife that is so sharp that I’m scared it will cut me open if I only breathe too hard.

  ‘You can scream now,’ he says, and his hand disappears from my mouth. When I don’t respond at once, he presses the knife closer to my throat. ‘C’mon, really let it out. SCREAM!’ he yells in my ear.

  I open my mouth and shriek. ‘HELP ME! PLEASE!’

  The Half Face’s rough laugh mixes with my cries. ‘That’s a good girl.’

  Chapter 4

  For money or a principle

  I don’t have to scream for long. Before I can count to ten, the corridor is invaded by security guards from the Justice House, pulling out their guns. I don’t know what frightens me more; the iron grip of the Half Face on my waist, or seeing those weapons being pointed at my heart.

  ‘Stand down!’ one of the guards barks.

  The Half Face lets out another savage laugh; I feel it vibrating through my own body. ‘No no no, gentlemen; this is not how it works! You see, you have nothing. I have everything. Every-tiny-bit of leverage.’ As if to prove it, he weaves one hand through my hair and pulls back hard, forcing my head back with a snap. I let out an unwanted groan of pain.

  ‘Leave the girl,’ the security guard says. ‘Let her go now, and we can talk this through in a civilized manner.’

  ‘You’re not getting THE IDEA!’ the Half Face bellows. ‘This is me calling the shots and you stupid oafs standing down, or the girl dies a tragic death. You see, Jools,’ he mutters, suddenly quietly, pressing his mouth into my hair, ‘Do you see how they’re simply risking your life to keep me contained? Is that fair to you, huh? Is it?’

  I have to blink hard against the tears if I want to see what is going on around me. ‘Please don’t shoot,’ I whisper at the guards. I don’t want to die, one way or another. God, I just want to go home.

  ‘We’re not shooting.’ Even with the painful angle my head is in, I can make out that the man lowers his gun. My heart lifts, but I’m too quick.

  ‘Hand me the gun,’ the Half Face says. ‘GIVE IT!’

  ‘I don’t think –’

  ‘No, you don’t. Because if you did, ah, well, you know what would happen to little Julie here.’

  I suddenly feel something warm and hot in the nape of my neck, followed by a burning pain. I realize that the Half Face is sliding that knife of his across my throat. I start shaking in silence, too scared to even whimper.

  ‘Tick…tock,’ he says slowly.

  ‘Just stop. I’m giving you the gun.’

  ‘Good man. Put it there, on the floor.’ The burning sensation immediately stops and my head is released. Everyone watches as the first security guard carefully sinks to a squatting position, laying down his gun. He pulls his hands away at once, moving back up and taking a step backwards. The others have not yet put away their firearms, I notice, but the guns are pointing downward.

  ‘Julie, you think you can get that for me?’ the Half Face asks me conversationally. ‘Don’t worry – I’m gonna be right behind you.’

  I have a thick feeling in my throat, making it almost impossible for me to speak. ‘You…want me to get that gun?’ I whisper, not entirely sure if I have understood him right.

  ‘You can do that, can’t you?’

  My head spins as I gingerly take one step forward, then sink to my knees to reach for the weapon with my left hand. The Half Face keeps his grip on my right wrist, squeezing so hard that I can feel a bruise forming there.

  The gun is much heavier than I had imagined. I turn back to the Half Face, obediently crossing the distance between us, when I’m struck with a desperate kind of courage. There’s no time to figure out if I can pull the trigger without first pulling the safety pin, but I lean in and swing the heavy steel weapon at him, putting my full weight into the blow.

  The barrel collides with his jaw, and although he staggers back, he doesn’t release his grip on my arm. Quicker than I can collect my wits, he yanks the gun from my hand, turns me around so that I smash against his body once again, and delivers a fist-punch to my belly. I double up, coughing. Dozens of black spots explode before my eyes.

  ‘Shouldn’t have done that,’ I hear him say somewhere above me.

  For a while, all I can do is focus on my own breathing, and the searing pain in my stomach. I’m vaguely aware that the Half Face is talking, and that the guards are arguing with him. It doesn’t last long; before I know it, I’m yanked up by my arms and shoved into a small chamber; the same room where I sat waiting before I was called out to testify.

  I find the chair and sit down on it. I’m not exactly sure to what conclusion the Half Face and the guards have come in the brief moment that I was gasping for air, but I know that it can’t be any better than before, seeing as he now has a knife, a hostage and a fully loaded gun.

  I look at him as he inspects the weapon, before tucking it into his belt. There’s one second in which I wonder if I could be quick enough to reach out and grab it, this time actually pulling the trigger. I imagine how fast it could be over, how happy I’d be… Then I look up to find his gaze fixed on me, his black-and-white face a menacing mask. I don’t stand a chance with him looking at me like that, and there’s no telling what he’d do to me if I tried.

  ‘Well, you look worried,’ he says. ‘Is it the ink? You know, there’s a story behind that head. You see, my brother and my sister…’ His head snaps up, distracted by a new noise out in the hallway. He runs his tongue over his lips. ‘Well, you’ll hear that some other time.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to kill me?’ I ask, surprising myself. I feel sick to my stomach, but I just have to ask. If these are going to be my last moments on earth, I might as well know.

  ‘Kill you? Why would I do that, Julie? After all the trouble I went through to see you again!’

  ‘What…what do you mean, trouble?’

  ‘I saw you pretending to be dead,’ he chuckles softly.

  ‘You were peeping at me from down on the floor.’

  He had seen that? I struggle to understand what this means. ‘If you knew, why didn’t you shoot me?’

  He smiles at me as he closes in on my chair. His fingers trail over my cheek. I look away, but am immediately forced to look back at him, those same fingers turning their hold on my face into an iron grip. ‘Because you just looked so scared. Just like you’re doin’ now.’ He holds my face a little longer before he lets go.

  ‘Is it money?’ I ask, clinging to my last strands of hope. ‘Are you going to ask for ransom? Because my mother will pay, I promise she will, if you would just tell m –’

  ‘Oh, Juliet; I don’t think coins are gonna cut it,’ he says, returning to that lopsided smile that he showed me in Courtroom 14. ‘Don’t look so down. You’re gonna see Mommy and Daddy again sometime. Cross my heart.’

  Sometime? His words should encourage me, but all I feel is a dreadful cold sensation. ‘What exactly are you planning?’ I ask faintly.

  He stares a
t me with squinting eyes, like he is contemplating his answer. ‘I have a…problem-ah,’ he says, letting the final m bounce on his tattooed lips. ‘Now, I know that you think you know what it is and that locking me away is going to solve all the other troubles, but this is not the way. No, it’s not-ah.’

  I shake my head, not even understanding what he is telling me. He either doesn’t see my confused look or he chooses to ignore it, because he turns his back on me and walks to the tiny window to peer out. I don’t know what’s on the other side and his expression doesn’t give away anything.

  If this is going to take much longer, my heart might just give up from fear. I don’t dare to get up from my chair, much less make a run for it with his intimidating presence so close. He could probably tackle me before I even got the chance to reach for the doorknob.

  I wrap my arms around my own waist and pull my legs under the chair. The skirt pulls tight against my legs; I feel a hard bump in my pocket. My phone! I’d forgotten that I had it on me.

  With another glance at the Half Face, I reach down into my pocket and quickly retrieve the phone, the blood pumping in my ears from excitement. This feels like a small victory.

  But now what? Should I call 911? By now, the entire Fallhallow police force must be swarming around the building. With sweaty fingers, I swipe at the menu to get to my text messages. Mom’s last message sends a jolt through my heart. Has she already been called by the

  police? She might be standing just outside the Justice House, sick with worry. All I want now is to hear her voice, telling me that everything is going to be fine…

  ‘You really don’t want to do that,’ the Half Face’s voice says softly. From the warmth of his breath, I can tell that he is standing right behind me. As I automatically whip my head around, he takes the phone from my hand and frowns down on it.

  ‘Give it back. Please.’

  ‘You know how they say that you can tell a lot about a person just by looking at their clothes? That’s true for phones as well. I can tell who you are just by looking… at…your…photos.’ He flips through the menu as he talks, then holds up the phone to show me that he has indeed found the pictures. I feel strangely violated.