Rabbit Fever, page 33
Two officers stepped out and headed towards Will’s shiny red front door.
Chapter 34
After several mistaken turns. Will confidently asserting he knew the precise route only to backtrack and admit the town appeared different at night. Attributing the errors to his viewpoint from the passenger seat. Insisting, of course, that his inebriation had nothing to do with it.
The small white car, under Ewan’s navigation, finally reached a modest industrial estate. It bore the hallmark of constructions from the fifties or sixties, housing an array of single-story industrial units. These units were occupied by various small independent traders such as plumbers, kitchen fitters, and similar professionals. The area seemed deserted, with flickering streetlights casting an eerie glow, buildings tightly locked, and some looking as though they were rarely accessed.
The lack of foliage or any form of concealment made Ewan uncomfortable with the wide-open space. Although the location was situated down a narrow side road flanked by a canal where the inquisitive barman had supposedly spotted Zak, the fact it had a single entrance and exit unsettled Ewan.
Nevertheless, if this was indeed the place where Zak had relocated his mysterious setup for breeding fleas, as Will suggested, Ewan deemed it imperative to investigate. He turned to Will, taking the key from his hand, and shook his head in disappointment.
“This is a key for a padlock,” he reprimanded, gesturing towards the buildings. “These are doorways; this key won’t open them,” he stated, a sense of hopelessness in his tone.
Will struggled to point into the distance, his arm wavering due to the lingering effects of the wine. Ewan followed the direction indicated by Will’s unsteady gesture, noticing a collection of shipping containers nestled in a darker, neglected corner of the industrial estate. Some containers were overgrown with weeds, showing signs of prolonged disuse, while others exhibited peeling paint and rust.
“Those might be locked with padlocks,” Will slurred, suggesting Ewan should go and check while he waited in the car.
Ewan paused, contemplating whether it was better to bring Will along or leave him behind. He reasoned that leaving Will, who was swaying in the passenger seat, would spare him from having to assist or supervise, and there was no risk of Will driving away in his current condition. To be doubly sure, Ewan switched off the engine, secured the keys in his pocket, and instructed Will to stay put as he ventured towards the shipping containers in the dimly lit corner of the industrial estate.
Approaching the line of five shipping containers, Ewan was faced with a dilemma. Each container sported similar padlocks, and the key from Will gave no indication as to which it might unlock. Two of the containers were instantly dismissed; they were overrun with weeds, indicating prolonged neglect.
Surveying the remaining three, Ewan discounted two more. These were conspicuously placed, directly visible from the courtyard area of the industrial units.
There was one container that stood out.
Positioned at the end of the row and somewhat concealed, it had seemed at first like there were only four containers. Ewan reasoned if any of the five were likely to be chosen by Zak, it would be this one. Upon closer inspection, he noticed cables dangling from the top corner, running to a nearby streetlight.
This puzzled Ewan.
Zak had always stressed the importance of not drawing attention, and such an overt method of acquiring electricity seemed uncharacteristic. However, Ewan considered the possibility this practice might be ordinary or overlooked in this setting, explaining why no action had been taken against it.
Approaching the container, Ewan felt a mix of apprehension and relief as the key slid into the padlock effortlessly, turning with a satisfying click. The padlock sprang open eagerly, almost as if urging him to venture inside. As the lock released, an unexpected scratching noise emerged from within the container. It was an unsettling sound, causing Ewan to furrow his brow in confusion. Nevertheless, his curiosity propelled him forward.
Grasping the two hefty handles firmly, Ewan manoeuvred them outwards and then across, clearing the way for the door to swing open. As the door creaked on its hinges, he was immediately assaulted by an overpowering stench that hit him like a wave.
It was reminiscent of the foul odour he’d encountered years ago during the visit to the rabbit farm with Zak, but this was more potent. As if the container had been sealed for days. Allowing the smell to fester and intensify.
An intense, blinding light greeted Ewan, shining directly into his eyes. Blinking rapidly and shielding his face with his hand, he realised that the brilliance emanated from a security light rigged inside. Its sensor had evidently been set up to activate as soon as the door was opened, providing ample illumination within the container.
As Ewan’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, he recognised the immediate need for such intense lighting upon entering. The cramped space was overflowing with a chaotic assortment of cages, tables, and crates, bearing an uncanny resemblance to an impromptu animal testing laboratory. White lab coats, protective visors, and plastic gloves hung on hooks affixed to one of the container walls. Piles of white tubes occupied a table, alongside stacks of glass vials, with additional boxes strewn across the floor beneath.
Amongst the jumble of supplies, the sound of scratching persisted, drawing Ewan’s attention to the cages. Rows upon rows of then, all filled with small white mice, appearing to number in the thousands.
Some mice appeared severely unwell. Yet, the most distressing sight was the presence of healthy mice, most of whom were accompanied by the skeletal remains of their former cage mates. It was evident the mice, left for too long without care, had resorted to cannibalism for survival.
Pausing for a moment, a wave of concern washed over Ewan as he contemplated the potential risk of plague-infested fleas lurking amidst the rodents. He considered turning back, acknowledging that he had confirmed this location as Zak’s choice for continuing the breeding of fleas and no further investigation was required.
His curiosity won over, and he decided to scrutinise the cages further. Despite the typical metal bars of cages, he noticed unusual reflective gaps between them. Closer inspection revealed sheets of plastic inserted within each cage, creating makeshift enclosures resembling barred aquariums, presumably in Zak’s attempt to contain the fleas within.
The moment Ewan approached the cages, a shrill cacophony of high-pitched squeaks erupted from the mice, their collective noise piercing through the air. Uncertain whether the shrieking stemmed from anticipation of food or from fear and forewarning, Ewan did his best to ignore it and delved deeper into the container.
Despite his initial disappointment at not discovering more, his attention was drawn to a map partially concealed by the hanging lab coats. As he pushed the coats aside, his shock was palpable. Spread out before him was a map of the UK, adorned with a series of red circles and notes in Zak’s recognizable handwriting, each circle bearing various dates and annotations denoting action points.
Driven by the urge to confirm his suspicions, Ewan urgently scanned the map for Wales and then specifically for Porthaven. His fingers trembled as they traced the familiar location of Porthaven, along with an additional note labelled ‘Z Visit’—coinciding with the day Zak had reportedly visited his mother at the hospital, as per her account.
Ewan paused, bewildered by the discovery.
“What is this, have you left this for people to find?” Ewan asked, as if Zak was stood next to him.
He puzzled why Zak, known for his meticulousness and caution, leave behind such an incriminating map? It seemed too easy for a drunk like Will to lead Ewan to it, signalling this was no mere oversight. The more Ewan studied the map, the more he sensed it wasn’t a functional plan. Instead, it appeared more like a summary—a document intended for someone to comprehend the magnitude of Zak’s activities or intended plans.
“You’re showing off aren’t you, proud of your work?!” Ewan challenged the imaginary Zak.
Closer inspection revealed that each red dot had an associated date and a distinct note. Some notes read ‘via mail,’ others ‘TBC,’ and intriguingly, a few bore ‘via #1’ or ‘via #2,’ while many in Wales simply stated ‘Z.’
Ewan’s mind raced back to his conversation with his mother about Zak delivering labelled vials of fleas to her hospital. At that moment, he had considered it an embellishment, but now, it seemed her words aligned remarkably well with the contents of this map.
“Oh, Zak, what were you up to?” Ewan mumbled; his tone laced with disappointment. “We weren’t aiming to wipe out the whole population,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
Taking a steadying breath, he rifled through the scattered papers cluttering the desk, hoping to unearth something of significance. Amidst the chaos of documents, Ewan found a silver lining—many invoices and records for lab equipment and mice had been meticulously logged, all under Will’s name. Ewan smirked, a sly expression crossing his face.
“Explain that one, William,” he chuckled, relishing in the irony, before continuing his search.
Towards the bottom of the dishevelled stack of paper, he stumbled upon a crumpled scrap of paper, evidently torn from a notebook. Though the notebook itself was nowhere to be found in the mess, Ewan figured searching for the entire book wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he focused on the note scrawled in Zak’s distinct, embellished handwriting.
“My little English Ewan,” the note began, and suddenly, Ewan found himself overwhelmed by a surge of emotions.
If the note were starting as it had implied, it was a message left by Zak to be discovered—an indication Zak might have presumed he wouldn’t be alive when it was found.
“As much as I hate to say this, you were right. I got carried away and wrapped up in things. I aimed for a bang, for your pride, to show that not only could I execute your plan, but I could magnify it, make it larger, better, bolder, and braver. Something to make you famous or infamous, my friend—look at the map on the wall to see what I’ve been working on.”
Dabbing a tear from his eye, Ewan pounded his hand on the white tabletop, cursing Zak for always taking things to extremes and never settling for the ordinary.
“Your foolish plans mean I’m utterly alone, dealing with this mess,” Ewan mumbled, his voice filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “Why couldn’t we have just stuck to the agreement instead of attempting this madness?”
Considering, partly in anger and partly in trepidation, that perhaps it wasn’t worth reading the rest of the note, Ewan realised this was his last connection to Zak, almost a final testament from him. Despite the tumult of emotions, he resolved to read on for closure.
“I must admit, my friend, my ambitions outpaced me. I dreamt too big and grew reckless. I cut corners, and today, I’ve received several flea bites from the ones I’ve been cultivating here. No need to worry—everything on the map is already in motion, and I’ll soon head to your mother’s hospital to ensure your plan is carried out fully.”
“I know you’ll find this letter, though I’m unsure how. But I’m confident you’ll arrive before any authorities, and you’ll know what to do next. However, I presume I won’t be around to discuss its contents any longer.”
“I leave you these few words, my friend. Thank you for giving me purpose, for trusting me. Yet, I caution you, Ewan—don’t try to uncover the identities of the contacts I’ve mentioned on the map or my methods here. You wanted something that would cause maximum disruption. If my adaptation of your plan succeeds, the disruption will be monumental. Who knows if I’ve ensured fleas are sent to all the places on my map? Who knows if I haven’t sent any? Who knows if it’s a bit of both? You’ll never know!”
Ewan stood there, trembling as he read the letter repeatedly, finally allowing the tears to flow freely down his cheeks onto the paper.
“But what will I do without you?” he sniffed, suddenly feeling utterly alone in the world. “What do I do now? I don’t know how to deal with this.”
He screwed up the letter and hurled it at the wall, standing motionless for several minutes, contemplating his next move. He ignored the shrieking mice and the bizarre set up around him. After a moment, he shook himself out of his stupor, recalling Zak’s advice—to take things one step at a time, focusing on what needed to be done immediately rather than getting lost in the chaos of the future.
What was the immediate plan? Ewan pondered, trying to gather his thoughts.
The priority was to distance himself from Will. He believed Will had served his purpose and keeping him involved any longer would be pointless, considering the incriminating evidence within the shipping container would outweigh any information Will might share.
Pausing to consider Zak’s intentions in leaving things to be discovered. Memories of his friend flooded back. Ewan concluded this was another reflection of Zak’s larger-than-life personality. Even in death.
Aiming for a grand exit rather than fading into obscurity.
Picking up the crumpled letter from the floor and placing it deliberately on the desk, Ewan considered Zak’s reference to the authorities and the desire to cause maximum panic. Leaving the letter to be found by the next visitor would expedite the generation of this worry.
He entertained the idea of releasing all the mice to cause chaos but thought better of it. If there were no cages left with mice in them, then maybe it wouldn’t be easy to work out what had been going on in the shipping container.
Instead, he opened half of the cage doors. Allowing half the mice to choose their fate and the generate panic with worry about where they had scurried off to. With the other half left in their cages to be found.
He left the shipping container door ajar—following Zak’s supposed intentions of leaving things to be discovered, there was no point in securing everything again.
As he marched purposefully back to the car, Ewan noticed Will had dozed off. Fuelled by a mix of seething anger and deep sorrow from the letter he had just read, Ewan, in a moment of irrationality, irrationally placed blame on Will for the whole situation.
Opening the passenger door of the small white car, he proceeded to carefully unbuckle Will’s seatbelt, guiding it through his hands to ensure it didn’t disturb Will’s sleep. Leaving the door ajar, Ewan briskly circled around to the driver’s side, inserted the key into the ignition, and started the engine.
Without buckling up, he pivoted toward Will and, using both hands, forcefully pushed him out of the car.
Anticipating this sudden jolt would awaken Will but keep him disoriented due to his inebriated state, Ewan planned to drive off immediately, making it nearly impossible for Will to catch up. His calculated move proved accurate as he propelled Will out, immediately shifted his attention to the road, and accelerated rapidly.
He manoeuvred out of the industrial complex’s car park and onto the one-way street, aiming to exit the small town as soon as possible, seeking secluded country roads with minimal surveillance to evade any immediate tracking attempts.
Chapter 35
1 Hour Previous - Will’s House
“Seems like a wild goose chase,” remarked the police officer behind the wheel as their car halted outside the immaculately kept house.
Despite the dim illumination from the streetlights, the house’s shiny red door was impossible to miss.
His colleague nodded in agreement.
The call they received was peculiar, originating from a bartender at the local gay bar, known for spinning tales and frequently summoning the police for minor incidents, relishing the commotion their presence caused.
This time, the bartender claimed to have spotted Ewan Kauffmann-Wainwright at his bar earlier that day. Furthermore, he added, a certain Will, allegedly in a relationship with someone named Zak, had been at the bar that night. In a dramatic flair, the bartender expressed concerns for Will’s safety, suggesting Kauffmann-Wainwright had followed him home from a distance.
To the officers, the account sounded implausible, considering the report from their colleagues sent to speak to the barman that only confirmed Will’s visit to the bar and his inebriated state. Nonetheless, they were dispatched to Will’s house, likely to speak to him, confirm there was no cause for concern, and then deal with the barman who seemed intent on wasting their time.
While the barman had some credibility in previous calls, no matter how trivial, this call appeared to be a blatant fabrication, an opportunity for the officers to put an end to his frivolous behaviour.
Exiting their car, the officers strode purposefully toward the house, one of them delivering strong raps on the door knocker while the other buzzed the doorbell. The house remained eerily silent—no flicker of lights, no rustle of movement inside. Knocking again, they exchanged jests about Will likely being passed out and nursing a hangover in the morning. But beneath the humour, an unspoken sense of unease lingered.
Surely, returning home drunk would entail some sign of activity—lights left on or some indication of life within. Yet, the house appeared empty, devoid of any signs of recent habitation. Sensing something amiss, they tried ringing the landline, but the phone rang out into the silence within.
One of the officers, troubled by the unusual silence in a supposedly occupied home, strode back to the car and radioed their control centre. They reported the lack of response, the strangely quiet house, and suggested the possibility of breaking in, citing the barman’s call, and expressing concern for Will’s well-being. As they awaited permission to enter, a neighbour emerged from a nearby house, dressed in a robe, a small Dachshund clutched to her chest as if being used to provide some added protection. She peered curiously at the commotion.
The officer, dismissing the nosy neighbour’s curiosity, approached her, politely trying to discourage her from prying into their investigation. However, the neighbour seemed keen to share information.
