Free Relics by Shaun Hutson

Land Rover, starting the engine. There was a roar as she stepped on the accelerator.
    ‘I’ll be OK,’ Kim assured him. She let the vehicle roll forward a few yards and then stepped on the brake.
    The vehicle stopped immediately.
    She pulled at her bottom lip with one thumb and forefinger, looking first at the speedometer, then at the brake pedal.
    ‘Are the brakes working new?’ the farmer asked, his hair plastered to his face by the rain.
    Kim nodded abstractedly.
    ‘Yes,’ she said in surprise. ‘They’re working.’
    As the farmer watched, the Land Rover pulled away and a moment later it had disappeared around the next bend.
    He looked at the dark skid marks on the road before him and shook his head. He found that he too was shaking.
    Longfield Museum was a large, modem building that looked more like an office complex than a storehouse for ancient artifacts.
    The smoked-glass exterior reflected a mirror-image of the Land Rover as Kim parked close to the main entrance. She switched off the engine and sat silently for a moment, breathing deeply. The rain had eased off somewhat and she had wound down both front windows to let in some fresh air. This had helped to dispel the unpleasant fusty odour inside the vehicle which irritated her throat and nose.
    The chill remained.
    After a moment or two she climbed out of the Land Rover and strode towards the main entrance. There was a pushbike chained to the bicycle rack with a sticker on it that read SPEED MACHINE.
    Kim pushed open the double doors and walked into the almost unnatural silence of the main hall. A large plan of the museum faced her, and on each wall blue signs pointed to various galleries. She turned to the left, heading for the door marked STAFF ONLY. Her heels beat out a loud tattoo on the lino as she walked but the sound was muffled by carpet as she stepped inside the room.
    It was a large room with cupboards and filing cabinets covering the walls on three sides. At the far end was a stainless steel worktop and sink and another door.
    The room was empty as Kim walked through it to the door at the other end. She turned the handle, expecting it to be locked, but it opened easily.
    It led to a second, smaller room which contained three or four work benches and, in one corner, the pride of the museum, an electron microscope.
    On one of the worktops Kim caught sight of a steaming mug of coffee. She’d seen Roger Kelly’s bike outside, so the coffee probably belonged to him. Kelly had to be around somewhere. Kim turned and headed back through the staff room, pulling open the door which led out into the main hall.
    The figure loomed before her with such suddenness that she jumped back a foot or two, her heart thumping.
    ‘I didn’t know I looked that bad first thing in the morning,’ Roger Kelly said, grinning.
    ‘I wondered where the hell you were,’ Kim told him, sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain her composure.
    ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ he told her, noticing how pale she was. ‘Are you all right?’
    She thought about mentioning the incident with the Land Rover but decided against it.
    ‘I’ve got some material in the back of the Land Rover,’ Kim told him. ‘Help me get it inside, will you, Roger?’
    He nodded and followed her out to the parked vehicle, watching as she unlocked the back and motioned to the box which contained the stone tablets.
    Kelly got a firm grip on the box and lifted, surprised at the weight.
    ‘What have you got in here?’ he grunted. ‘Gold bars?’ Roger Kelly was a powerfully built, muscular young man yet to reach his twenty-third birthday, but the effort of carrying the box appeared to be too much for him. Kim watched anxiously as he stumbled toward the main entrance of the museum, straining under the weight. For a second it looked as though he would drop the box, but after a moment he regained his handhold and struggled on. Kim collected the box containing the skeleton and followed