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Back The Last Guests
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONE
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. DEADLY SAS RAID IN AFGHANISTAN UNDER SCRUTINY
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. PART TWO
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. DANIEL MOORE: ‘A SINGLE BLOKE, HAPPY-GO-LUCKY, A BIT OF A DUNCE BUT WITH A GOOD HEART,’ BEST FRIEND SAYS.
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. THIRTY-TWO
  41. THIRTY-THREE
  42. THIRTY-FOUR
  43. THIRTY-FIVE
  44. BREAKING: POLICE CONFIRM DANIEL MOORE ACTED ALONE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. SECOND ARREST MADE IN WESTAY HIDDEN CAMERAS CASE
  50. EPILOGUE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  52. Discover More
  53. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  54. Also by J. P. Pomare

I know this house like the back of my hand, I have the view of the cameras, the gun. I have the advantage. I stride to the switchboard near the bottom of the stairs and hit the power for the lights. The house falls dark, a sheet fallen over the canary’s cage. Everything is still and silent but for the storm outside.

‘Shit,’ I hear a voice mutter upstairs. I look at the screen now, the cameras show the rooms in greyscale night vision. I watch for a few moments, then I see Daniel wandering carefully up the hall towards the spare bedrooms where there are no cameras at all, just a terminal of darkness, train tunnel black. Then a flash of something behind him. Is that someone else? Maybe a glitch on the camera. I thought I saw movement. The image changes to the next camera.

I go to the fire, feeling my way in the dark, holding the gun out in front of me, and find the long lighter. Back at the stairs I begin the climb, one step at a time, feeling the muscles in my calves tightening and knotting, trembling with adrenaline. On the camera, I see Daniel in the hallway. It fixes on him. He’s removed his mask and seems confused by the darkness with his arms out before him, still and silent. He could fall down the stairs. I place the phone on the step, face down, so the light from the screen doesn’t give my position away. Rising, my hands ache around the gun and the lighter. I creep my way up towards the top of the stairs. It’s muscle memory. He’s close, he must be. I know this house so well, know the points where the floor squeaks, the distance from the top of the stairs to the master bedroom. I pause at the landing, holding my breath and squeezing the lighter in one hand, resting the gun across my left forearm. The trigger feels hard and electric against my right index finger. He’s there at the end of the hall. A gust presses the house. The windows creak in their frames. I fumble with the lighter and flick it on. A tiny glow leaps ahead. I see him, see terror in those green eyes.

I don’t think. I simply drop the lighter. The gun comes up. I hold it tight. Centre mass.

‘No,’ he says. ‘Please!’

I pull the trigger. The room explodes. I fly back, a sledgehammer to the chest that hurls me hard against the wall at the top of the stairs. The house falls into complete darkness.