Chosen by Bill Kitson Read Free Book Online

a human voice, if only the newsreader on TV.

    She was midway through her meal, when the bulletin turned to local news. Monique paid scant attention to the first two items. The opening words of the next report focused her mind instantly. ‘Police in Helmsdale have expressed their concern over the whereabouts of nineteen-year-old Sarah Kelly who vanished.…’
    Monique stared at the screen, her body frozen into immobility. She listened, heedless of the sauce dripping on to her lap. The newsreader gave out some scant facts. As the incident phone numbers were being given out, the girl’s photo appeared on screen. Monique stared at the image, transfixed. She began to shake uncontrollably. She put the tray down and ran to the downstairs cloakroom. She was violently sick.
    Â 
    Sarah tried to clear her brain. Consciousness returned slowly. Something was different. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue heavy and wooden, her throat parched. She remembered the injection. Obviously she’d been drugged. Something had changed, but what? In her drowsy state it took her a long time before she could work it out. Several times she felt she was on the point of solving the mystery when she fell asleep again.
    She was now tied to a chair. The ropes were still fastened to her wrists and ankles. The hood was still over her head. Her neck hurt. She moved slightly, as much as her bonds would allow. Something rustled. She moved again and heard the same noise, faint but definite. Was that her making the sound? She wasn’t wearing anything that rustled. She moved again; again the rustle. She was definitely making the sound, but how?
    As Sarah puzzled it over she felt another new sensation. Something was touching the skin of her neck. It felt like a necklace. But she never wore a necklace. She moved again, this time achieving a little more movement. There was something odd about all her clothing. It felt looser, less restrictive than the stretch jeans and tight-fitting top she’d been wearing.
    â€˜So, you’ve woken up once more, dear Sarah.’ She heard the soft voice again and shivered involuntarily. ‘I think it’s time for us to meet properly.’
    The hood was loosened and slipped off. The bright light dazzled her. Instinctively she lowered her head to avoid the glare. She
gasped in bewilderment. She had been right. She was wearing a full-length evening dress. A string of pearls had been placed round her neck. Long evening gloves and a matching evening bag lay on her lap.
    She could tell she was no longer wearing her flat shoes, replaced by what she knew to be heeled shoes. Sarah squirmed slightly at the strangeness of it all and was shocked to find that even her underwear had been changed. The bra felt strange, new and unworn.
    Her eyes had adjusted sufficiently, she looked up, her eyes widened, her brain reeled. Was she in the middle of some dreadful nightmare? Suddenly she knew it was only too real and the realization of what she was looking at came to her. Hot bile rose in her throat, threatening to choke her as she stared in horror at the nauseating sight before her. She had gone far beyond fear, into a realm of terror she could never have imagined. Sarah began to scream. She screamed until eventually her brain was no longer able to cope with the level of disgust and revulsion, and shut down. Sarah lapsed into merciful unconsciousness.

chapter four
    Rushton Engineering was on the outskirts of Helmsdale, where the red-brick town merged into the countryside. Every attempt had been made by the management to soften the ugly outlines of the factory. The depot was a small, specialist unit, with a workforce of no more than sixty. A large open area in front of the building had been planted with trees and shrubs, hiding the car park. This was where Nash found Mironova waiting.
    As they crossed the yard to the company’s offices, Mike noticed they received one or two curious looks from passing members of the