3 [Thrillers] #2: Fulfilment

3 [Thrillers] is my fifth book, consisting of three thrilling novellas about humans pushed to their limits, willing to do the unthinkable to get what they want. On Sunday I shared an excerpt of part one, 'The Borstal'. Now here's an excerpt from part two, 'Fulfilment', about a stranger who happens across a man who's suspiciously similar to himself...

The needle hung over him, aimed at a spot right between his eyes. Adam stared at it, not daring to blink, as if shifting his gaze would cause it to plunge down and bury itself inside his skull. A drop of sweat ran down his temple and itched the skin.

“Hello?” he said, his voice distorted by the foam plugs lodged in his ears. He tensed his jaw and balled his hands into blotchy fists. Someone walked past, a bright white apron flicking across his peripheral vision, but his eyes remained on the needle. “Actually, I’m having second thoughts. This is a really, really bad idea.”

Another voice murmured at his side. The flash of white reappeared and this time he glanced over, staring into the black goggles that hid most of Apron Man’s face. He imagined the stiff, discomforting gaze that lingered beneath. The kind of look that could silence a screaming child, or empty the bowels of a hardened sports hooligan. Adam opened his mouth to speak again, but too late. The prick in his bicep was just a scratch as promised. When his words finally came, they were slurred and stupid.

“Leave me...ughhhhlone....”

The goggles melted across Apron Man’s pale, muscular cheeks and then darkness fell.

One

London, 21/12/2024

Four days before Christmas. Duncan’s morning had been the usual mash-up of monotony and grief until precisely 10.34am. Rise with the alarm, feed the cat, eat cereal, shower, brush teeth, kiss the wife goodbye as she slumbers, walk to the tube station, crushed into a boiling hot carriage with hundreds of other silent commuters, stroll into the RBS offices, greet receptionist with twenty seconds of banal conversation, sit at desk, read emails, yawn, check BBC News, hunt for missing biro, give up, accuse colleague of stealing pen, put on coat in a rage and head to local cafe for a strong coffee and a serious think about life.

At 10.33am he stepped into the greasy spoon, a tiny square room with a glass counter and just three double-seater tables crammed in tight. A colour TV draped in tinsel hung in the corner, showing an excitable weatherman bleating on about the latest cold front. The grill behind the counter was covered with bacon, eggs and sausages, which sizzled as the owner stabbed at them with a semi-melted spatula. Heavy oil vapours filled the room and Duncan felt a layer of grease solidify across his face the moment he walked in, his arrival announced by a tinny and pointless bell that dangled above the door.

He blew on his hands and rubbed them together, then shuffled up to the counter and nodded at the owner, a slender man with a white beard and an apron.

“What can I getcha?” the owner asked.

“Just a latte, please. Extra large shot.” He turned and leaned against the glass surface, ignoring the cold meats and pastries that sat inside. The rest of the cafe was empty, the tables unused. He gazed at the TV and saw it was halfway through a familiar advert, one that had been playing for months now. A woman was sat alone on her sofa, shovelling massive spoonfuls of ice cream into her face as she sobbed hysterically. Then it cut to her entering some shiny lobby made of glass and marble. Another cut, her talking to an impossibly neat-looking scientist with blonde hair, blue eyes and a chiselled jaw, and a lab coat with pens arranged in size order in his breast pocket. The camera skipped to a curved doorway which pumped out a dense yellow fog, as if the room behind was some kind of out-of-control disco. The same woman from earlier emerged from the smoke, but now she was strangely more attractive. Her face had changed in subtle ways, her cheeks more defined and her nose slightly narrower, but so had the rest of her body. Her hips were wider and her legs seemed to have stretched out. The final shot was back in the lobby as she strode out into the sunset with an enormous cheesy grin, followed by a superimposed slogan: ‘Fulfilment – Eternal Happiness at an Affordable Price’.

Duncan watched half of the next advert, which featured a dancing koala bear drinking some kind of pink smoothie, until the cafe’s pointless bell tinkled again and the door swung wide open.

The clock behind the counter ticked onto 10.34am.

He turned and stared at the suited man who pushed his way inside. It started as just a cursory glance, a reaction to the sound of the bell, but his eyes locked on the other man and he exhaled sharply. In turn, the other man froze partway to the counter.

“Jesus,” Duncan said, an inadvertent chuckle gurgling out from his throat. The person stood just three feet away was identical to him in almost every way. Same shade of skin colour, same thick wiry hair, same cleft chin. Aside from the suit (this man’s garments were navy blue rather than off-grey), he could have been staring at himself in a mirror. The other man took a step towards him and squinted.

“Hi there.”

“Hi there,” Duncan replied. “This is...kind of weird.”

“Yeah. Weird.” They stood a foot apart and studied each other, eyebrows raised. Duncan struggled for something to say. Eventually, he settled for the obvious.

“You look just like me.”

“Yeah. Right. Sorry, I’m just kind of stunned here.” The other man shook his head and offered his hand. “I’m David.”

The pair of them paid for coffee and, without either suggesting it, sat together at one of the tables. Duncan wrapped his hands around the ceramic mug and felt the warmth flow into his palms.

“So,” he said, “out of curiosity, is your surname Henderson?” David shook his head again.

“Richardson.” He smirked and blew away the steam rising from his coffee. “So I guess we’re not long lost twins, then.”

“Unless one of us was adopted, I guess?”

“Adopted?”

“Yeah, think about it.” Duncan leaned forwards and rested his chin on his fist. “Maybe our parents had us, but didn’t want twins. They just wanted one kid. So they gave one up for adoption to another couple, maybe a couple who couldn’t have kids of their own or something, to raise as their own. How old are you?”

“34.”

“Shit, same here. You got any siblings?”

“Nope,” David said, frowning. “Only child.”

“Same,” Duncan said, his heart pounding. “Are your parents around?”

“They died a few years back. How about yours?”

“Shit. Mine passed too, accident five years ago.” He exhaled, then stretched back in his chair and rubbed his neck. “Guess that means we’ll never find out.”

“Well, where did you grow up?” David asked.

“America, small town in Massachusetts. I moved here a couple of years back.”

“You don’t sound American.”

“Nah,” Duncan said. He took a sip of his coffee, the hot liquid burning his lips. “I lost my accent pretty quick, I guess. How about you?”

“My parents were British but emigrated to Southern Spain before I was born. I moved back here after they died, wanted to try a different life.”

“Ha, incredible.” Duncan grinned. “So, we were born the same year to British parents but grew up in another country, the only children in the family. Our parents died and we moved to the homeland to start a new life.” He drummed his fingers against his cup and sucked on his inner cheek. “What do you do for a living?”

“Uhh, I’m a business analyst. I make predictions about stocks and write reports, stuff like that.”

“Close enough,” Duncan said. “I work for a bank doing risk assessment.” He nodded at David’s hand, spread out on the table. “And looks like you got married.”

“Yep, last summer. You?” Duncan raised his arm and wiggled his ring finger.

“Exactly the same. You starting to get a cold chill down your spine?”

“I’m about to shit my pants in terror.” David rested his elbows on the table and squeezed his head in his hands, until his face turned bright red. “This is, like, Outer Limits, Twilight Zone, X-Files, all rolled up and covered in a massive pile of crack.”

“It’s got to be real, right? We’ve got to be twins. You hear about this all the time, twins separated at birth who go on to lead pretty much identical lives, completely independent of each other. I bet even our wives are similar, same hair colour and everything.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it with a couple of taps and sat it on the table, pushing it through a sticky coffee stain towards David. “This is mine. Karen. She’s a natural brunette but she has highlights done, so her hair’s a little lighter than normal.” The other man stared down at the phone and his lips parted, but he stayed silent. A moment later he looked up at Duncan, his face frozen. Duncan blinked. “What? Does she look like yours?”

David’s hand trembled slightly as he pulled out his own phone and swiped the screen with a fingertip. He found what he was looking for, then he repeated Duncan’s motion, resting the mobile on the table and pushing it over. Duncan peered down at the photo. It was a summery shot taken in some park. A woman reclined on a blanket beside a giant hamper. She was wearing a low-cut top and shorts, and her narrow face was split by an enormous smile. Duncan’s stomach churned and his hand curled into a fist on the table top.

“That’s Karen,” he whispered, meeting David’s gaze. “That’s my bloody wife.”

An excerpt from part three is coming in a couple of days.

3 [Thrillers] will be available on the Kindle Store this weekend...

3 [Thrillers] #1: The Borstal

3 [Thrillers] is my fifth book, three thrilling novellas about humans pushed to their limits, willing to do the unthinkable to get what they want. It hits Amazon's Kindle Store this week...

Number one, The Borstal, takes place in an impoverished communist country where the power-hungry government rules its citizens with terror. A girl and her brother are thrown into a dangerous institute for taming criminals and hardening its inmates into the next generation of soldiers. Their struggle for survival turns into a lust for revenge, as their story is told in two parts: the oppression of the borstal and the tragic events that led them there.

Here's chapter one...

Jenn shivered as she pulled off her vest and dropped it into the sack. The soldier nodded at her, expressionless.

“Underwear too.”

She glanced down at her scrawny pink body and her cheeks burned. The threadbare white knickers were the only thing she had left, although they barely offered any concealment thanks to the worn patches that riddled the surface. For a moment she hesitated, then her fingers tugged at the thin material and slipped them down to her ankles. She lifted her feet one at a time and snatched the knickers up and threw them at the soldier, who caught them one-handed and dropped them into the sack.

Jenn glared at the officer as he strode down the line, collecting the clothes of the other kids. Boys and girls huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, naked and terrified. Many had their heads bowed or eyes closed, while others tried to cover their privates with their hands. None of them glanced around or dared to talk with their neighbours. Jenn guessed that she was one of the eldest gathered at thirteen years old, although a muscular boy further down the row looked to be a year or two older. Her brother Daniel was also far from the youngest at ten. Some of the others were shockingly young, perhaps only six or seven.

Jenn twisted around and stroked Daniel’s hair, and he wrapped his arms around her. When he glanced up, tears had run down his cheeks and carved through the grime that coated his skin.

“I wanna go home,” he whispered. She forced a smile, then grabbed his hand and squeezed. Her skin had goosepimpled in the frozen air and the soles of her feet were already numb and filthy against the rough stone floor. Somewhere to her right, she heard one of the others start to wail. A boy around the same age as Daniel tried to back away from the soldier as he thrust the sack out. The kid was still wearing his raggedy underwear, his arms wrapped tight across his chest. He shook his head furiously and begged to be let go, but the solider signalled to two other guards, who strode over and grabbed the boy. Jenn watched as the kid fought back, but in just a few seconds they had him stripped. One of the guards pulled back and lashed his palm across the boy’s face, stunning him into silence. A tiny girl whimpered as the crack of the blow echoed through the room, but she fell quiet when the soldiers threw the boy to the ground and glanced around the room.

“Good,” said the soldier with the sack. He threw the bundle into a corner and grabbed a large white container from the wooden table, the only furniture in the room. “This is a skin rub. Pass it down the row and take a handful each, and apply it all over your body. This is to stop disease from spreading.” He unscrewed the lid and passed the tub to a girl with short black hair and freckles stood at the end of the row. She lifted it to her face and sniffed. Her face creased, but she pushed her hand inside and scooped out a clump of clear jelly before passing to the next kid. The container came quickly down the line, until Daniel had it in his hands. He peered inside and his nose wrinkled.

“What’s this stuff?” he whispered to Jenn. She shook her head, then reached in and dug her fingers into the thick gel. She brought out enough for them both, then handed the tub off.

“Just put it on.” With a grimace she slapped half of the gel into Daniel’s palm, then smothered the rest over herself. Her skin tingled at its touch.

When they were all coated, the soldier tossed them each a pair of yellowing boxer shorts and a near-see-through vest and swung open a large rusted metal door. They were ushered through single-file into another room. This one was smaller but still mostly bare, with dark stone walls dripping moisture and just two naked bulbs dangling from the ceiling, throwing out enough light so the children could see each other’s terrified expressions. Two dentist chairs stood in the middle of the room, each manned by another guard. Jenn eyed them up, her muscles clenched tight.

“Two at a time, into the chairs,” the first soldier said. At the front of the line, the girl with freckles hesitated, her arms crushed over her chest. “Come on, quick!” the soldier barked at her. She shot him a pleading look but stepped up to the nearest chair, easing herself back. The older boy followed to the next seat and jumped in, letting out a deep breath. As soon as they were seated, the guards pulled out electric razors and began to shear the hair from their subjects. In less than a minute they shoved the pair away, their naked skulls glowing beneath the bulbs.

When it came to Jenn’s turn, she balked at the cold embrace of the chair. As she shuffled back to settle into the plastic cover, the guard grabbed her chin and yanked her back and the razor’s dull metal blades sliced across her scalp. She bit her lip and kept silent, thick locks of her auburn hair tumbling down her shoulders and resting on her belly. Afterwards, she hugged Daniel close and stroked his head, the tiny grains of stubble rough beneath her fingers. Her own head was chilled but she didn’t dare touch it.

Everything afterwards was just noise, bright lights, distant voices. Jenn never let go of Daniel and she didn’t look up until they were led inside a square room with a low ceiling. Nine bunk beds were lined up only two feet apart from their neighbours. Five of them were already occupied with a mixture of boys and girls dressed in brown uniforms, and Jenn felt their eyes boring into her. She stared back, fighting the urge to twist away.

“Take a spare bed,” their escort said. “You’ll find your uniforms at the back. Lights out in twenty minutes.” The guard strode back out through the doorway, little more than a hole in the wall as there was no door attached. Jenn saw that the girl with freckles and the older boy had also been left behind. The girl’s gaze met her own and a flicker of a smile stretched her lips, although her eyes were misted.

“Come on, D,” Jenn said, squeezing her brother’s shoulder. They pushed through the narrow gap to the back of the room, past a makeshift washing line that stretched from wall to wall. Trousers and shirts dripped water onto the floor, where the murky liquid disappeared into tiny cracks in the rock. A small pile of unused uniforms sat on a wooden crate in a heap. They grabbed whatever looked like it would fit and slipped into their new clothes, shuffling aside so the other two could also get dressed. Jenn cringed as the rough material bristled against her skin and itched her. Her shirt was too tight, biting into her chest, while Daniel’s trousers were far too short for him. Both of them fared better than the older boy. He was so tall and broad-shouldered that he couldn’t find a big enough shirt to fit. Even his vest was stretched to breaking point. Eventually he gave up with a grunt and threw the uniform back on the pile.

The others had drifted from their bunks and surrounded the four newcomers, staring silently. Jenn held Daniel close and glanced around. Four boys and a girl, all around her age.

“What happened to your face?” one of the boys asked her, a tall but scrawny kid with missing teeth. She raised a hand to her cheek and felt the rough gouge marks with her fingertips. The grooves ran all the way from her hairline to her chin, devastating that half of her face. They were still tender and touching them caused a jolt of pain to shoot down to the bone.

“Just an accident,” she replied. The boy with missing teeth snorted.

“Looks terrible. Was it one of them?”

“Them? You mean the guards?”

“My first day here, they broke my ribs, three or four of ‘em. Every breath for a week hurt like hell.”

“Why’d they do that?” the girl with freckles asked. Her voice was thin, trembling.

“Ahh, something I said about their mothers and pigs.” Toothless kid smirked. “My name’s Josef.”

“I’m Fran,” said the girl with freckles. She flashed that same forced smile, but Jenn thought the girl would burst into tears at any moment.

“Is it really as bad in here as everyone says?” Jenn asked. Josef laughed and stroked his chin.

“If they say it’s a dirty, crowded dung hole run by sadist dogs, then yes. But take my advice, don’t let them know it. When they shove a plate of rat meat in front of you, eat it like it’s the best beef you ever tasted. If they beat you, just smile and thank them. At first they make it harder, they try to break you, but their patience is like paper, very thin. They give up too easy. Move onto someone weaker.”

“They can’t all be like that,” Fran said, eyes stretched wide. Josef shook his head.

“Some are good. The ones who lived in places like this when they were our age, mostly. They understand, they try to make life tolerable. If only there were more like that.” He glanced over his shoulder, then turned back and whispered. “But this place is run by the state, never forget that. All they’re interested in is producing strong little troops for their training camps. When you turn sixteen, you leave here and go to the camps just like every other niento in the country, and then you’re theirs for real.”

Daniel pushed his head into Jenn’s side, and she stroked his neck. Josef glanced at them both, one eyebrow raised. “So you two, what you called?”

“I’m Jenn, this is Daniel.”

“How’d you end up in this dump? Parents dead?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Her tone was harder than she’d planned. Josef chewed on a knuckle then nodded.

“Fair enough. But I’d get that face checked by the doc, looks pretty bad.”

“I already cleaned it up, but thanks anyway.”

“Okay then.” He peered over at the older boy who’d climbed into the nearest available bunk. The only free ones were up on top, and the ceiling was so low that it practically touched the kid’s chest when he breathed in. “What about you, muscles? What’s your name?” The new boy slowly turned his head and glared at Josef, then resumed staring at the ceiling. Josef shrugged with a smile. “Fine, be like that. But you’ll want to find a shirt from somewhere. The guards like to beat on anyone who doesn’t take care of their uniform.”

The other kids introduced themselves and Jenn struggled to remember their names, but tiredness fogged her mind and ached her limbs and the introductions were interrupted by a piercing bell that rang out from the corridor. Everyone slipped into their beds and Jenn led Daniel to an adjacent pair of free top bunks, helping him up into his before she clambered into her own. She had to shuffle sideways onto the stiff mattress to keep from smacking her head off the ceiling, and when she lay on her back, the callused yellow plaster was less than a foot from her nose.

“I’m scared, Jenn,” her brother whispered, and she leaned over and forced a reassuring smile.

“Me too, D. But we’ll figure out a way out of here, okay?” Daniel stared at her, then nodded and pulled his blanket up to his chin. Outside their dorm room, the chatter of the other children faded and just seconds later the lightbulb fizzed and died, leaving them in darkness.

Despite her exhaustion, Jenn found sleep impossible. The slightest sound made her twitch, not helped by the persistent hacking cough of one of the other kids, and her mind kept peeling back through the past few days, grasping every little thing that had happened to them. She cursed the state, she cursed the soldiers, she cursed the whole rotten country. And when she chose a face to focus her hate, it was the face of General Uhtrif.

You can buy 3 [Thrillers] later this week, and check back on Sunday 14th for news of a special deal...

Book five is almost here...

After months of scribbling, my fifth book is finally finished! This is a first for me, as it's actually a compilation of three novellas, all in the crime/mystery/thriller genre. Giving it a title proved to be a massive ballache, so I went with the incredibly imaginative title of '3 [Thrillers]' which I think sums it up without any pretentious bullshit. Hopefully, at least. It seemed like a good idea after lots of whiskey and coffee.

And here's a sneak preview of the (not quite finished) Kindle cover...

I'm converting to Kindle in the coming week, then after a final quality check it'll be up on the Kindle Store, huzzah! I'm hoping to run a five-day promo to celebrate its launch, where you can pick it up for free - so check back soon to make sure you don't miss out on a freebie.

As for the three stories, I'll be releasing a sneak preview of each in the coming week or two, so you can be the first to read them right here. Bosh!

PS3 Game Review: Epic Mickey 2 (The Power of Two)

I've just reviewed Epic Mickey 2: The Power of Two for PS3 over on Game Debate.

A quick spin on Epic Mickey 2: The Power of Two makes you feel like that mental bloke that gibbers to himself in the corner of the pub. Imagine a world where giant mice and rabbits team up to take on an army of cartoon beasties, armed with only a magic paintbrush and a remote control. It’s nuttier than a basket full of squirrels, but Epic Mickey 2 is laden with Disney charm. Ultimately it’s a game for kiddiewinks, but this third person platforming adventure has just enough creativity to pull in mum and dad for a quick blast too.

Read the full Game Debate Epic Mickey 2 review

Kitty is live! (Twin Towers Estate Book 2)

Wow, I haven't posted on here for ages. I'd like to blame it on some terrific sexy adventure I've had, trekking along the Inca trail in search of lost civilisations or suchforth, but truth is I've just been a lazy twat.

However, I have put out book two in my Twin Towers Estate series, 'Kitty', which is set six months before the massive riots that kicked off in 'Crack'. You can grab Kitty on the Kindle Store for just 99p. It shot up the charts to rest in the top 1000 Kindle books soon after release, so massive thanks to all those early readers!

I'm also about to post Bat Boy, my award-winning debut novel, on the Kindle Store at long, long last. Check back very soon for info and links. And have a most excellent weekend.