I need to get the fuck out of here. I reach for the hard drive but my gaze catches on a red ‘1’ sitting in the corner of the mail icon. Was that there before? I can’t help myself. I click on it.

And there, at the top, is one new email. It’s from some sort of security system. The subject reads ‘Movement Detected’.

Shit.

My breath is short and sharp as I scan the room: what does it mean by movement detected? Is he watching me? My eyes flit from the corners of the ceiling – there are no CCTV cameras there – to the bookcase, the closet, the bed, the painting, the window and then my skin gets icy cold.

Because there, in the corner of the room, attached to the lamp, glinting in the light, I see it.

A lens.

It’s pointed right at me.

And I don’t recall seeing it last time I was here… but fuck, fuck, fuck.

My heart is thudding in my chest as I conduct a quick risk analysis: Thomas is working, on deadline, not watching a live stream from his apartment right now. He probably hasn’t seen that email yet, hasn’t seen me. I need to leave. Now.

Adrenaline surges through me as I grab my phone, throw the hard drive into my bag and run for the door. I move out into Thomas’s hallway, looking around. But it’s empty.

I need to go to the police.

I get to the steps and take them two at a time, bile rising in my throat as I move.

I’m in the foyer and the door is right there. I can see the street outside.

But I can’t go that way, the tall creepy guy is still waiting for me there.

And I don’t know how it all fits together yet, who is the more dangerous of the two, or whether they’re working together.

I look towards the other side of the foyer: there’s the door to the garage.

I run towards it, pull it open and head down some fluorescent lit concrete stairs. There’s a big, heavy metal door at the bottom of them and I reach for the lever, pushing down on it. It opens and I move out into a car park. There’s strip lighting on the roof and rows of cars and concrete pillars. And on the other side in the corner is another door.

An exit.

I stop still. Listen for sounds, for footsteps, for a car, but there’s nothing but the sound of my breathing.

And so I run towards it, my breath so shallow I’m dizzy.

I’m almost there.

I pass a concrete pillar and then bang.

A deep pain in the back of my head.

My ears ring.

Everything spins.

Then: black.

Chapitre Trente-sept

Chapitre trente-sept