The Conspiracy 1 by Jack Probyn

Author:Jack Probyn [Probyn, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781912628216
Publisher: Cliff Edge Press
Published: 2020-06-07T22:00:00+00:00

| EPISODE 1 |

CHAPTER FIVE

LIKE OLD FRIENDS

As soon as the front door creaked shut, Candice dropped the paper to the floor and her body convulsed. Her breathing sped up, rapidly filling her brain with oxygen until the room began to spin, left and right, left and right, left and right, the sensation unrelenting.

The collar bomb drowned her. With each passing second – and each exasperated breath – the metal collar containing the spikes attached to her neck tightened, asphyxiating the oxygen in her brain. The box attached to the collar crushed her chest, paralysing the rest of her body. Her fingers clawed at the collar in a weakened attempt to alleviate the pain and pressure of it wrapped around her throat, but it was no use.

It was settled. She was going to die.

Then she closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing, tried to calm her nerves and staunch the overflowing emotions and thoughts bursting from her brain. But they wouldn’t stop. And in no time at all the nausea returned with a vengeance. Her body reacted. Candice rotated to the side and projectile vomited on her mansion floor, the orange liquid spreading across the black-and-white stones. It dirtied the collar bomb and some of her clothes, though the latter was the least of her worries.

For a moment, she toyed with the idea of fainting, of passing out, of allowing the veil of unconsciousness to descend over her and drag her down so she wouldn’t have to face her imminent death. But did she want that? No. Of course not. She had a family. She had a life. She had children. She didn’t want to imagine how they’d react if they heard their mother died after being impaled by six spikes. Worse, she didn’t want to imagine how they’d react after they found out that she’d done nothing about it; that she’d sat idle; that she’d died defenceless.

No. She wasn’t going to let this thing defeat her.

Candice rolled onto her shoulder and lifted herself to her feet. But the stranger inside her house beat her to it. The man was already standing, his arms flailing as he clawed at the ground, trying to find a grip on the surface. As their eyes locked on one another, he stood and charged towards the front door.

‘Hey!’ Candice screamed after him. ‘Where are you going? Help me!’

The man fumbled for the handle, stopped, babbled incoherently and, within a few seconds, opened the door and sprinted out of the house. As the door swung closed, it left a large-enough gap for Candice to watch the man reach the end of the gravelled driveway and disappear up the road.

Just like that, he was gone.

Stunned that she’d been left in this situation alone, left to die, Candice searched the floor for the note. She grabbed it, and, using her arms to balance herself, struggled to her feet. The blood rushed to her head, and she swayed from side to side, teetering on the edge of collapse.

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