Time To Play by KA Richardson (free children's ebooks online .txt) 📕

her balance and made her way into the building. Her swipe card was still dangling from her neck so they could gain access.

She could feel the warmth as soon as she entered, but she knew it wasn’t enough.

Her body screamed with each movement, but she slowly navigated up the stairs to the top and rushed through the canteen and into the men’s bathroom. The men had shared showers, not individual cubicles, which meant she could get some instant heat into both of them simultaneously. Hitting three of the showers, she waited a moment until the water began to steam, then gently lowered the girl directly underneath one of the hot sprays. Holding her up, she managed to get herself under the next one along too.

The girl gasped, struggled a little, then realised the water was warm. She sagged back into Marlo’s chest, sighing as the water cascaded over them both.

‘Shhh, it’s OK, I’ve got you,’ whispered Marlo against her hair, her fingers rubbing the girl’s arm in a soft circular motion.

Both now conscious, the adrenaline ebbed to nothing, and they started shivering, not just small ones either, huge judders that shook teeth and made the body believe it was in the middle of an earthquake.

‘Stay here,’ said Marlo, getting to her feet and leaving the girl under the shower. Her legs were still wobbly, but she made her way to the kit room and retrieved a couple of packaged space blankets. Pulling at the plastic wrapping with her teeth as she made her way back to the bathroom, she told the girl to come out from under the water.

Knowing the girl would follow her lead, Marlo pulled her clothes off down to underwear and wrapped a blanket around her. As hoped, the girl followed suit.

Marlo led her back into the canteen and made them both a cup of hot, sweet tea.

The whole thing felt a bit surreal, like it had happened to someone else and Marlo had just happened to have been watching. Her shoulders ached as she moved: she was going to be stiff tomorrow. The body had funny ways of dealing with trauma, but she could manage that when it happened. For now, she handed the girl a steaming cuppa, and sat down beside her.

‘So, what was that about then?’ asked Marlo, glancing over the mug she held with both hands.

‘I think you will hurt me. Police hurt me where I come from,’ whispered the girl, tears filling her eyes.

Marlo felt her expressions soften. ‘Where do you come from?’

The girl started crying, not able to answer for the sobs heaving through her shoulders. Marlo shuffled closer, put her arms round the girl and pulled her to her chest.

‘Shhh, it’s OK, everything’s going to be fine.’

The heat from the extra body, and the fact they’d both warmed up caused both of them to become sleepy. One after the other, they both fell fast asleep.

 

Chapter Twenty-One

Ryhope, Sunderland – 14 November

H e pushed open the door and entered the room. It was time to get rid of Nita, clean up and figure out what he had to do next.

She was exactly where he’d left her. Her skin had turned grey and parts of it had darkened where her blood had settled. Her expression was peaceful. At least he’d been able to give her that. It was a small mercy, though. The guilt for hurting Nita was threatening to overwhelm him. He’d been thinking about it all day, how his hands had squeezed the life from her as though she didn’t deserve to live.

Maybe it would have felt different if he hadn’t known her name. She was the first one he’d asked. When it had come to killing the others, it had been like second nature. Routine almost: it had been a task that had needed to be done. It was almost as though his mind had detached from his body, only now returning. The fuzziness and control he’d felt was ebbing. And he felt sorrow. Sorrow for the lost lives and for what was to come. Like taking the bodies to his favourite location. His wife had loved it there. They’d gone every few weeks before she’d gone and done it for years and years. They would get up in the morning, and she’d fill a flask, make sandwiches, and away they’d trot. He missed those times.

Raw pain flooded through him. Why her? It just wasn’t fair. He would have preferred it to have been him. She’d always been so full of life, bursting at the seams and always happy. Then she wasn’t any more.

Shaking his head, he knew he couldn’t dwell in the past.

He caught a sob as he dragged Nita from the chair and onto a large expanse of plastic, the same kind of plastic used to cover seedlings on farms and in allotments. He’d picked up a roll of it years ago and had kept it. Firmly believing that one day he’d need it. One day had arrived with the death of number one.

His head started to pound dully as he wrapped the plastic around her and secured her with tight knots. Hoisting the body onto his shoulders, he took her to the car and placed her in the boot. Two large cinder blocks were already inside, and he tied them to the bag with the strong rope he’d purposefully left loose for that task.

He drove in complete silence. The only noise was the sound of his tyres gliding over tarmac, then eventually over a stony track that led to what had been his favourite place. It was always deserted at this time of night. He still came here to think, even when he didn’t have to leave one of the girls. It was peaceful, serene. He could hear the wind rustling the trees he knew surrounded the path, the occasional hoot of