"Just make sure that he doesn't get in my way, is all," Bradshaw drawled. "If Ms Parkes here is right, and this lunatic is stupid enough to turn up tonight, then I'm gonna put him down, Inspector, and I don't want some kid getting in the way, understood?"

"If you see him and you have a shot, then you take it," Danny replied coldly. "Let me worry about the politics and the legality tomorrow."

"Fine, you just let me know when he's close, Ms Parkes, and I'll do the rest."

Landing found herself on the far side of the school near some outbuildings. The pungent smell that wafted across the evening air told her that they were stables. She headed over, relishing the aroma. Her grandparents had owned the Landing farm for generations and it had been expected that she would enter into the family business at some point, but she had run from that responsibility. The country life had seemed dull and listless to her and she had longed for the bright city lights. The fact that, once she'd had a choice in her posting, she had ended up in Faircliff - a modest sized town close to the countryside - hadn't been lost on her. Sometimes it seemed that no matter how far you ran, you always ended up home.

She was as p.i.s.sed at herself as she was at the squad, but she felt bad for taking it out on young Tim. The kid was a good lad and she made a mental note to apologise later. It wasn't his fault that they were being thrown to the wolves by the suits; it wasn't really anyone's fault.

There was a tall grey mare that came to the stable door as she approached. The horse put her head over the barrier for attention and she petted it gently, relishing the animal's nature. Perhaps it was time for her to return home, back to the farm and see if there wasn't a better way to live than at the behest of faceless others who sat in silent, stony judgement.

The horse nuzzled at her hand, looking for treats but she had none to give. Its eyes were rich and full and she looked deeply into them, feeling a sense of peace. There was movement behind her and she was glad that Tim had caught up; it would give her the chance to apologise.

She had barely turned before the three-p.r.o.nged pitchfork drove forcefully into her chest. The steel tips pierced her flesh and sank deeply into her internal organs. She stared down in disbelief as though she couldn't possibly be looking down at her own fatal wounds. A thin dark trail of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth and she found that she couldn't breathe. Her vision blurred as she sank to the stable floor but two powerful hands gripped her under the armpits and lifted her back against the building's wooden struts. The horse behind her whined and stamped in mortal fear as the stench of death permeated the air. Landing felt her left arm being lifted as she sank into unconsciousness before the stinging pain brought her momentarily back into the darkening world. The large iron nail burst through her palm as it was hammered into the beam on one side of the stable door before the process was repeated on her right hand. She slumped forwards but the nails held her up, albeit in excruciating agony. The figure moved in closer and Landing wanted to see something to identify him, to somehow leave a clue for the others, to make her last moments matter, but all she could do was die.

Tim Selleck tried not to scuff his feet along the brightly buffed wooden flooring without much success. He couldn't believe that everything and everyone that he had put his faith in had turned out to be so insubstantial. He had only ever wanted to be a policeman; he had always craved the respect that came with the job and the sense of family and brotherhood that came with the uniform. As it turned out, he'd have had as much happiness selling paper like his brother. His team was about to be ripped apart and Wilson was dead. The officers above them had decided to play politics with people's lives and the team was to take the fall for political expediency.

He had always been the b.u.t.t of the joke on the end of a bully's fist. Even when he'd joined the service, instead of being one of the kids at the top table, he'd just found a whole new level of cruelty.

He shook the self-pity from his mind and tried to concentrate on the job at hand. There were lives at stake, according to the Parkes woman. At first, he had thought that the whole 'Medium' angle was yet another joke at his expense, but DI Meyers believed her and that was good enough for Tim. If the DI had told him to jump off a bridge then he would have probably done it, in stark contrast to what mothers of children trying to make a point used to ask.

His st.u.r.dy boots echoed along the deserted hallway and he used his anger towards Landing to keep himself from feeling spooked; it wasn't easy, given his surroundings. He was already lost inside the school and didn't want to risk radioing in for fear of looking stupid. He knew that he had the bones of a cop, somewhere deep inside; he just had to keep trying and learning.

Footsteps entered the hallway behind him and he turned, making sure to first mask his relief. A figure stood in the gloom at the far end. He a.s.sumed that it was male because of the broad size, but the man remained motionless. Tim stood rooted to the spot, feeling increasingly uneasy. "h.e.l.lo?" he called out, aiming for an commanding tone, but his voice sounded thin and reedy.

The figure didn't answer. Instead, he slipped a hand into the long dark coat that seemed inappropriate given the humidity of the summer evening. When it emerged, Tim caught sight of a glint of fading sunlight reflecting off a silver blade. His mind told him that this was the killer that they sought. This was the man responsible for death and misery and this was Tim's time to shine, to be the hero and show the world that he was a man to be reckoned with and respected. It took him a few moments before he realised that his feet were running in the opposite direction and taking him with them.

He flew along the corridor blindly. The dim light obstructed his way and every turning looked to lead him further into the darkness. There were multiple doors lining the hallway but every turn of a k.n.o.b proved fruitless as they all rattled but remained locked. There was a small voice inside him that demanded he turn and face his pursuer, that he was the law and he shouldn't be running, but he still couldn't bring himself to listen.

He could no longer hear the footsteps behind him, but by now his mind was in full flight mode and his sweaty hands slipped off the door handles as his heartbeat pounded in his ears with a deafening drum. The school had turned into a maze in his panic and he couldn't see a way out.

He reached the last door and almost yelled in triumph as the door opened easily and he stumbled inside. He slammed the door shut behind him. There was a window opposite and he rushed to it. The gla.s.s pane refused to budge as his forearms bulged under his straining effort, but then he noticed that there was a small metal latch pushed across the wooden frame, stopping the window from lifting. He was only on the second floor and the drop to the soft gra.s.s below looked manageable. He knew that he would have some explaining to do, given his fleeing from a suspect, but he figured that it was better to live on his knees rather than die on his feet.

He grasped the latch just as powerful hands grabbed him from behind. He tried to turn around but suddenly he was thrust forward with tremendous force. The gla.s.s barrier rushed up to meet him too fast for him to raise a hand in protection. His face burst through the window, shattering the gla.s.s, and then his vision was obscured by running red blood. For a second there was no pain, but only for a second as his nerve endings overrode his shock. He was dragged back into the cla.s.sroom again, his body limp and helpless. He felt himself being hoisted up higher as he was pushed through the now open window, dimly aware of the cool evening breeze that ruffled his hair. Through the crimson mask that he now wore, he could just see that there were vicious looking broken shards of gla.s.s standing upright, sticking out of the bottom of the frame. His head was moved over the razor tips and he could dimly feel the gla.s.s bite into his throat. All the while his attacker never spoke a word. There was no quirky quip, no movie style one-liners - there was just murderous intent.

Tim's last seconds were full of fears and tears just before his head was forced downwards and the gla.s.s shards were driven into his throat tearing the flesh open. His body jerked as his lungs gasped for air, only to be filled with blood.

Jane sent her mind out across the school again as she gripped her mother's silver brooch, searching for a scent of him, but again there was nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief that was mingled with disappointment. She was torn between wanting to put off the confrontation for as long as possible and just getting the whole d.a.m.n thing over with.

"Anything?" Danny asked her.

"Not yet."

"You're sure that you'll know when he's here?"

"Absolutely," she replied, with a little more confidence than she felt. There was a nagging weed of disquiet growing deep inside her, one that she couldn't quite kill. "Did you reach Sergeant Landing or DC Selleck?"

"No, this b.l.o.o.d.y place is a dead zone as far as communications go. I don't mind telling you that I don't like it, I don't like it at all. If I could think of another way of doing this then I would."

"I'm sure that they're fine."

"I'm not," Danny said morosely.

"Where's Chalmers?"

"Babysitting the headmaster, or maybe they're babysitting each other, but I want Landing in with the girls. I don't put much faith in our ill.u.s.trious leader to protect a room full of pupils against a killer."

"Maybe we should check in on them?" Jane said, suddenly feeling a cold chill stroking her spine. "Just to be sure."

They headed into the school and through the cla.s.sroom section of the building and out towards the dormitory. She couldn't help but admire the old building and marvel at the surroundings. Her own school had been a smorgasbord of short fuses, apathy, and wanton disruption, and that was just the teachers. She could only wonder at the kind of esteemed learning that went on under such a prestigious roof.

"Maybe we should get Bradshaw to join us?" Jane asked nervously.

"We can't start panicking, Jane. We came here to do a job, to stop a maniac. Bradshaw is outside waiting for the nod from you, that's where we need him. You're still not picking anything up on the killer?"

"Not a thing," she admitted.

"But you're sure you will?"

Jane left the question unanswered as they reached the dorm room. Danny pushed his way in first and she followed behind, not wanting to answer any questions from the headmaster about her presence; let him think that she was just another copper.

The room was long with beds lining the walls on either side. There hadn't been enough time to evacuate the school and she would have had no idea just how to go about such a plan. They were here on an unofficial basis and even if Chalmers had approached Barrett, then there would have been no help coming from up on high, especially when they had no evidence to support the theory.

There was a scattering of pupils, all with eager faces at the unusual excitement levels given their day-to-day boarding lives. Thankfully, most of the kids were home for the holidays but there was still far too much collateral damage to worry about.

"Where are we?" Chalmers demanded as he spotted them and approached quickly.

"Still no sign," Danny answered in a quieter voice so as not to be overheard.

"I don't like this, Danny. I don't like it at all," Chalmers bl.u.s.tered nervously. "Perhaps we should call in reinforcements?"

"Who the h.e.l.l is going to listen to that call?" Danny snapped. "And what exactly do we tell them? That we have a psychic, a civilian who can read a killer's mind? Barrett would laugh in your face before he had you committed."

Jane shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. The idea had seemed simple, but the execution now was far from it.

"You realise that we're putting all of our faith, and even lives, in the hands of her," Chalmers said, pointing to Jane. "If she can't do what she promised then we could all end up fired or worse."

"She'll be fine."

"And where the h.e.l.l are the others? I thought that Landing was supposed to be here?"

"Look, Superintendant," Danny started angrily. "This isn't an exact science, it isn't a paper exercise that you can fill in from behind your desk, this is real police work with real dangers. My team is fine and tonight we are going to end this maniac's reign once and for all!"

Jane thought that Danny's words were strong and convincing. She knew that his faith in her would suffice and that she wouldn't fail him. That was until the lights went out and they were plunged into terrifying darkness.

There was a brief moment of silence before the screams of the girls started and possibly one from Chalmers himself.

"QUIET!" Danny ordered and the room fell still.

Jane took out her mobile phone and used the torch app. The others all followed her lead and soon the dorm was bathed in eerie white glows.

"Chalmers, take the girls to back of the room. Mr Duran, do you often suffer power outages?"

"Pretty often to be honest; it's an old building;" the headmaster replied in a slightly shaky voice. "The fuse box is in the bas.e.m.e.nt. There's a door under the main staircase that leads down."

"Okay, I'll check it out. You keep this door locked and you stay in here until you hear from me or one of my officers."

"What about me?" Jane asked quietly.

"You stay here, keep an eye on them and make sure that Chalmers doesn't start panicking. Find a quiet spot and try and find this guy. If he's here, we need to know."

She watched him slip out of the dorm room and locked the door behind him. Part of her wanted to be at his side, like she had been by his father's 8 years ago, but that hadn't ended in anything but death when she'd gotten in the way.

She watched through the dim light provided by the glowing phones as the headmaster and the superintendant ushered the pupils back to the rear of the room and herded them together for comfort. Duran seemed in control of himself even if Chalmers fretted anxiously; several of the girls were excitable as nervous energy burned brightly.

Once they were settled, Jane sat down on one of the empty beds and switched off her phone. She opened her mind, rushing the process as time seemed short and her own nerves were frayed. She crossed through the doorway and searched out for his mind. She scanned the Shadow World for him but he just wasn't close. She made several pa.s.ses, each time forcing herself to slow down and check every inch, but there was still no scent.

Reluctantly she came out of the zone and felt the plush bed beneath her, grounding her back in reality. She could hear the soft sounds of the two men and the girls about 30 feet away in the darkness and reached for her phone again. Something was wrong. She was so convinced that she had finally broken the killer's barrier down that she had basked in her success, taking pride in her triumph and never questioning it.

She flipped the torch app back on her phone and the bright light immediately lit up the small area around her. A hand flew to her mouth at the last possible second to stop the scream of shock from spewing forth. All of the victims were now crowded around the bed, bathed in the light of the phone. Their faces were illuminated and twisted into pits of impotent rage and she knew through their anger that she'd made a terrible mistake.

Danny moved quickly and stealthily through the blackened school. He lifted his feet as lightly as he could across the hardwood flooring and willed himself into obscurity; if the killer was stalking them, then he didn't want to be seen. He desperately wanted to call his team but he didn't dare use his phone now as it would give away both his and their position to anyone close by and watching.

He found the main staircase easily as it was a huge structure that dominated the middle of the atrium by the entrance. There was indeed a door underneath and it opened without needing to be unlocked.

As he entered and began to descend the stairs, he couldn't help but think of his father. He'd been a cop of the same rank, tracking a killer into a bas.e.m.e.nt only to never return alive. The similarities between their two cases seemed far too coincidental to be random. There were answers here, answers that he desperately craved.

He crept downwards, slowly and carefully, eager to make as little noise as possible. He used the small but powerful keyring flashlight to light his way and quickly found the fuse box on the wall. The bas.e.m.e.nt was littered with discarded storage. Boxes were piled up, almost to the ceiling, and there was a musty smell in the air as though the room had long been abandoned. Danny fought hard to keep his usually inert imagination under control as it threatened to consume him with childish fears of the dark.

He could see that the main fuse had tripped and he reached out to reset it, but just as he did he heard the creak of a stair behind him; he had been lost in his thoughts and not paying attention. He wished that he had been able to arm the whole team, but police officers in the UK had to be trained in firearm usage and needed to have a d.a.m.n good reason to be issued with them. This whole mission was strictly off the books and there had been no way of circ.u.mventing the procedure.

He spun around a.s.suming a fighter's stance, his eyes darting around anxiously for a weapon of any kind but there was nothing of any use. He lifted the small flashlight upwards aiming for the newcomer's eyes, hoping to blind them.

"Easy, Danny; it's just me," Jane said as she held her hands in front of her face to ward off the light as she walked down and joined him in the centre of the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"I thought I told you to stay upstairs in the dorm?" Danny snapped.

"I had to reach you, I think..., I think that I've made a terrible mistake," she panted.

Danny opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but just then the door opened at the top of the stairs again and someone else stepped through. He held up a finger to his lips, silencing Jane, and together they headed further into the bas.e.m.e.nt taking shelter behind a stack of boxes. "He's already here," she whispered into his ear, so close that it tickled.

"How?" he whispered back.

"He's been fooling me all along; the whole thing about me getting past his defences was all just a ruse by him. He let me think that I was inside him, but the whole time he was just playing me, letting me think that I was in control so that he could get everyone in the same place at the same time."

Danny's head snapped up as footsteps crept down the stairs and onto the bas.e.m.e.nt floor.

"What do we do?" Jane asked nervously.

Danny took the phone from his pocket in answer and prayed that there was a signal down here. He hit the speed dial for Selleck's phone but it went straight through to the answer machine. He tried the second b.u.t.ton for Landing's number and this time, thankfully, the phone rang. It took him a few seconds to realise that Landing's phone was ringing from about 20 feet away. "Landing?" he said, standing up and out of his cover, but the shape approaching was too large to be the female sergeant.

"Danny, is that you?" Bradshaw replied in an inimitable drawl.

"What are you doing with Landing's phone?" Danny demanded.

"Hey, I just found this in the hallway. I didn't know whose it was," came the answer. "If it belongs to your sergeant then we better go find her."

Danny held an arm out to indicate to Jane that she stay hidden. He was unarmed but he knew that the FBI man was, and presumably an expert with it. "Have you seen Selleck?"

"Oh, s.h.i.t, he's missing too?" Bradshaw asked with concern, but Danny's mind was already starting to spin.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you, Bradshaw?" he asked, stepping towards the agent, closing the distance slightly.

"Not this c.r.a.p again, Danny. You know who I am."

"Yeah, but I really don't, do I? You know, it's just occurred to me that I've never so much as seen a badge from you."

"You wanna look at it now?"

"You show up in the middle of a s.h.i.t storm, riding to the rescue, and everyone just seems to have taken you at your word. It never occurred to me to so much as check your credentials."

"I can a.s.sure you that they're real," Bradshaw said light-heartedly.

"Maybe they are, but I'm starting to wonder if you are. If I ask for some photo ID from your Bureau Chief are they going to email me your picture along with that badge?"

"Jesus, Danny, you're starting to worry me; maybe you've been hanging out with your lady friend a little too much. Maybe you're going as nuts as she is?"

"I thought that you were the believer?"

"Hey, buddy, one thing my old man taught me was to never p.i.s.s off a crazy lady, especially right to her face."

Danny had closed the distance considerably while they had been verbally sparring; now he could see the man's face a little more in the dim light. Bradshaw's voice was pleasant enough, but his body was tensed as though ready for action. There was something off about the agent, something that had been tugging gently at Danny's senses but he had been too caught up in the hurricane to listen. This was a man who had been parachuted right into the middle of an investigation, an investigation that had rapidly turned to s.h.i.t right after his arrival.

He took a quick step towards Bradshaw and watched as the agent's hand immediately went into his jacket on instinct. When it reappeared, it held a silver snub-nosed revolver that glinted despite the darkness. Their eyes locked together like animals in the jungle, great beasts ripped with power and danger. The air between them crackled with electricity as both men locked eyes, unwilling to back down despite not knowing why they were squaring off.

There was a moment when Danny wanted to hit the brakes, but Bradshaw's hand snapped upwards, bringing the gun to a fatal aim. His own hand switched on the powerful flashlight and shone it directly into Bradshaw's eyes. The American flailed against the sudden explosion of light and Danny ducked low under the agent's sweeping arm. He ran his shoulder into Bradshaw's gut and was met with an explosion of air as they both fell grappling to the ground.

Jane watched the confrontation from the back of the room. She couldn't understand the sudden eruption of violence between the two men and wondered if perhaps she was lacking the vital appendage that seemed to block out reason.