The Lost

She was halfway across the concourse when she heard the cough.

It was muffled, as though someone had tried to stifle it. The empty space amplified it, bouncing it off the hard walls so it was impossible to pinpoint. Even then Daly would have thought nothing of it... except that it seemed to have come from ahead of her. Where there were more spaces than cars.

Except for hers.

The prickling began at the nape of her neck, stirring the fine hairs like a breeze. But the air in the man-made cavern was stale and still. Daly slowed, a faint perturbation breaking through her thoughts. The car park was badly lit at the best of times, but normally she barely noticed. Now, though, she became aware of the deeply shadowed recesses and corners where the light didn’t reach. One of them was by her car.

‘Hello?’

Her own voice startled her, ringing out before quickly dying. Oh, this is stupid. But someone was obviously down here. So where were they? Daly had visited sink estates, wandered alone through riots and interviewed gang members. None of them had fazed her, yet now her usual assurance wavered.

‘If there’s somebody there, say something.’

She let her voice echo to silence before reaching into her bag. Grabbing up the phone with one hand, with the other she gripped the small bottle of spray perfume she always carried. From a distance it could pass as a pepper spray, and it would do a similar job if she sprayed it in the fucker’s face.

‘I’m warning you, I’ve got mace,’ she said, fumbling to start the video recorder on her phone. ‘And I’m live-streaming this. If you try anything, you’re going to be all over social media! Your call.’

She brandished her phone at the darkness. The only response was the slow drip of water from some drain. OK, fine. Holding the phone out in front of her, Daly went to her car. She was starting to feel self-conscious, aware of how she must look. But she’d stood behind police tape at too many crime scenes, reported on too many murders and assaults to think it could never happen to her. She’d take stupid over dead any day.

As she neared her car, she relinquished the perfume and grabbed her car keys. The VW beeped, lights flashing as she unlocked it from yards away. The silent car park mocked her with its shadows and dark corners. No one jumped out. And then she was opening the door, sliding inside and pulling it shut behind her. The locks engaged with a reassuring thunk.

‘Shit...’

She let out a long breath, feeling limp as the tension left her. Her hand was cramped from holding the phone so tightly, but only now did she lower it. On a sudden impulse she turned to check the back seat, then relaxed again when she saw it was empty. God, you really are jumpy, aren’t you? Daly gave a rueful smile at the thought of how she must have looked, striding towards her car with her phone outstretched. Like a priest in a horror film warding off vampires with a crucifix. Jesus, I hope no one checks the CCTV. The thought set her off giggling as she started the engine and pulled away. The fear that had gripped her moments before was forgotten, the idea that someone had been watching from the darkness now seeming ludicrous. As she presented her fob at the barrier, her thoughts had already moved to the meeting she was about to go to, and how she should play it.

The sound of the car’s engine faded, leaving the car park quiet once more. One of the light fittings in the ceiling flickered and buzzed. Water dripped again, a solitary fluid note in the darkness. As the haze from the car’s exhaust settled, a figure stepped out from the blackness of a doorway.

Keeping to the shadows away from the CCTV cameras, it slipped past the barrier and was gone.