Heller's Punishment

Heller’s Punishment

by JD Nixon

Copyright JD Nixon 2012

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real locations, is purely coincidental.

JD Nixon is an Australian author. Australian English and spelling have been used in this book.

Discover other titles by JD Nixon available at many ebook retailers:

Heller series

Book 1: Heller (free ebook!)

Book 2: Heller’s Revenge

Book 3: Heller’s Girlfriend

Book 4: Heller’s Punishment

Book 5: Heller’s Decision

Book 6: Heller’s Regret

Book 7: Heller’s Family (to be published)

Little Town series

Book 1: Blood Ties (free ebook!)

Book 2: Blood Sport

Book 3: Blood Feud

Book 4: Blood Tears (to be published)

Book 5: as yet unnamed (to be published)

Cover design by Infinity Rain

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Chapter 1

"The word is of Greek origin of course, from deinos meaning terrible and sauros meaning lizard. Hence the term ‘terrible lizard’. But in fact that’s a misnomer, because they weren’t lizards at all. Rather, they constituted an entirely separate type of reptile."

Would he never shut up? I thought with a silent scream, my facial muscles aching from maintaining a polite listening face for so long.

They lived during the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous eras. He chuckled. "I’m sure you remember watching Jurassic Park, although I feel I should warn you that the movie was inaccurate or speculative in several key respects."

He paused to push his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and a tiny bud of hope blossomed inside me that he’d finally finished his extensive monologue. But then he continued and my bud withered and died. It’s commonly believed that large numbers of dinosaurs were then wiped out in an extinction event that hasn’t yet been agreed upon by palaeontologists. Some argue about the catastrophic impact of an asteroid collision with Earth, but others think that gradual climate change was responsible as the dinosaurs weren’t able to adapt fast enough. Most people think that all the dinosaurs died then, but interestingly though –

Oh no, I wasn’t falling for that again. Nothing he’d said had been interesting so far.

– it is believed that some of the avian dinosaurs instead evolved into our modern-day birds. So we could say that we are indeed still ‘walking with dinosaurs’ today. He chuckled again. And speaking of that, it’s commonly thought that mammals and dinosaurs didn’t exist together. But they actually did, although the mammals were only small creatures at that point in time, at the very beginning of their evolutionary existence. So the idea of humans and dinosaurs together is laughable.

Cram it, Einstein, I thought, stifling another yawn, wondering if it was possible to strangle him with his own tongue.

His name was Elton and we were colleagues at Heller’s Security & Surveillance, a small but expanding business that offered top-shelf security and surveillance services. We were both employed there as security officers and I hadn’t worked with him before. But I was starting to understand the sympathetic glances and pats on the shoulder from the other men when Heller’s hardarse security manager, Clive, announced that I’d be paired with Elton for a weeklong job.

Hmm, maybe Clive did this to me deliberately, I pondered. He wasn’t exactly an admirer of mine.

Elton was a sandy-haired tall man, six-five at least, bulky with muscle but with a sensitive, even-featured face, and the only security man I’d yet met who wore glasses. He was conscientious, earnest and encyclopaedic, bringing along a scholarly tome on medieval weaponry for a bit of light relief during our breaks. He seemed like a really nice guy, but I just wanted him to zip it for five minutes. Was that too much to ask? He was boring the arse off me and making the assignment painful.

We’d been hired to supplement the security staff of the city’s natural history museum for a showing of DinoDreaming, a display of realistic animatronic dinosaurs. The museum was expecting the display to be the most popular one they’d ever hosted, hence the extra security required. Although glancing over at the two museum security staff assigned for the day, I wondered how they’d cope with much at all. One was small and past retirement age surely, his white hair carefully combed and greased with some foul-smelling cream that had probably been popular when he was a teenager. The other was an anaemic young woman with prominent blue eyes and lank, dull brown hair who looked as if she’d faint if you tapped her on the shoulder from behind. But I guess a natural history museum didn’t become rowdy too often. It was only later that I learned that both were volunteers, which explained a lot.

The pair was fascinated by Elton’s endless knowledge about dinosaurs, their open-mouthed attention only encouraging him – unfortunately – to pontificate further. On our arrival and before it was open to the public, we took a casual stroll around the amazing display. The huge replica dinosaurs were inanimate right then, but would later roar and move, flicking their long tails and scratching out with their claws. It would be spectacular and magical and scary. Kids would love it. My favourite was a huge egg in a nest that hatched revealing a tiny baby dino emerging.

The dinos were housed in a lush living prehistoric garden, populated with plants that would have existed during that period. It was a beautiful setting, although Elton tutted, informing us that while the gingko plants could be traced to prehistoric fossils, the other ferns and palms were distinctly not authentic to the era, being more modern in provenance.

Really? asked the washed-out young lady in breathless awe, gazing up at him with open admiration. And I’d swear that in response he grew an unneeded two inches taller, as if it had been a long time since someone had appreciated hearing what he had to say. That was kind of sad, because he was a fine specimen of a man, and undoubtedly knew a lot about . . . well, everything. But he was just so damn boring. And after another ten uninterrupted minutes of listening to him expounding about palaeobotany, during which the other two listened, rapt, I prayed to be mauled and eaten by a dinosaur just to get away from him. It would surely be less painful.

I’d better resign now, I thought glumly. There was no way I was going to make the rest of the week with him and I wasn’t sure how tolerant our boss, Heller, would be about me stuffing up another job. Let’s be tactful and say that I didn’t exactly have a sterling work record at Heller’s.

Finished with the plants, Elton moved on to the dinosaurs, his little audience following him, hanging on his every word. Now the Stegosaurus is quite a fascinating creature.

I doubt it!

It was a herbivore and had a very small brain in comparison to its large body size, therefore probably needing to use its bony plates for defence. But some argue that the plates may also have been used to regulate body temperature or for display. To attract a mate.

The young woman blushed and giggled and he glanced down at her, surprised and pleased by the attention. She shyly turned her eyes up to him in return.

Ooh, go for it, Elton, I smiled to myself. She didn’t need bony plates on her back to show her interest in the big man.

You can see that its tail was held stiffly outright and it’s believed that was because . . .

Bored, I wandered off, looking at the other dinosaurs by myself. It was a great display. I decided that it would be a blast being on duty inside this room, watching the dinos strut their stuff and the reactions of the parents and children. Hmm, maybe if I stayed out of hearing range of Elton, I could make it through this assignment after all. That would be preferable to having Heller yelling at me. Again. He was sort of scary when he was angry.

The museum’s events coordinator hurried towards us. She was a fidgety, portly woman with a permanently anxious expression on her face suggesting that on waking each day she feared for her continuing employment. She exuded a strong smell of need – she needed this display to be a success for her museum. Perhaps her annual performance appraisal was riding on it?

Has the entertainer turned up yet? she asked.

I shook my head. We hadn’t seen anybody.

Oh dear, she said quietly, checking her large-faced watch. "He should have been here thirty minutes ago. I knew I shouldn’t have gone with him. He seemed so . . . flaky. I should have chosen the older man. What was I thinking? What will the Director say?"

Distressed, she paced around, absently straightening a fern here, touching a gingko there, her mind on more pressing matters. I placed my hand on her arm when she approached me again.

Is there a problem? Can we help? I asked.

No, no, no, she moaned. I’ve spent too much money on this. The Director is going to be so angry with me.

Unexpectedly, she burst into tears.

Oh, hey, I soothed, unsure of what to do, my hand hovering over her shoulder. I settled for a couple of vague pats on her back. What’s the matter? Maybe there’s some way we can help?

Not unless you’re willing to step into the entertainer’s shoes, she sniffed, trying to pull herself together. I felt for her. There’s nothing fun about losing it at work.

I shrugged. Try me.

She glanced at me, her eyes watery and pink-rimmed. She took a deep breath. I hired a costume. A dinosaur costume. My plan was to have him wear it and walk around the museum, drumming up excitement and leading people upstairs here to the display. Just for today, the opening day.

That sounds like a great idea.

"No, it wasn’t. It was a terrible idea. The costume was very expensive to hire and now the entertainer has done a bunk on me. It’s a disaster!"

Well, I still think it’s a fun idea. I thought for a moment. Maybe one of us could wear it for you instead.

Her eyes filled with hope. Really? Do you think . . .? Would one of you be willing to . . .?

Sure, why not? I can’t imagine that we’ll need all four of us here on duty. I smiled at her. My colleague and I are used to doing all sorts of things in our job.

And while that was certainly true for me, I probably shouldn’t have been so quick to declare the same for Elton. Because when the events coordinator rounded up the other three and proposed our plan to them, he stared at her as if she’d just suggested a threesome with him, her and the Stegosaurus.

His eyes shot my way. It’s highly unorthodox. I’m not sure that our boss would approve of a frivolous activity such as that when we were hired to crowd control.

Elton, I hissed, noticing that the events coordinator’s bottom lip was wobbling dangerously, on the verge of more tears.

I don’t want to get into trouble with Heller, he hissed back. Oh brother!

"It’s not that bad," I persuaded, the veteran of many occasions when I’d been in trouble with Heller. But that was kind of a lie, because it really was that bad.

He looked down at me unhappily. You know, the guys warned me about working with you.

What? My mouth fell open. I was the one who needed to be warned, not him.

Because you’re a trouble-magnet.

I am not, I assured with great dignity. I’m just . . . misunderstood.

Please, begged the events coordinator. You’re my only hope. Can you please at least just look at the costume before you say no?

And reluctantly, Elton agreed to do that, ensuring that the other two agreed as well. She took us to a side wall where a door was cleverly concealed in one of the panels. The windowless room inside was a tight fit for the five of us and the dinosaur, a marvel of modern costumery. I’d thought it would be some cheap ridiculous foam costume, about as scary as a daffodil. But instead it was made of greeny-brown latex with well-defined sharp claws and a long tail. A separate headpiece had beady reptilian eyes and two rows of vicious teeth.

Wow, that’s awesome, I said, eyes wide.

Elton frowned. Which dinosaur is this meant to represent?

The events coordinator floundered. . . . um, T Rex?

"Nonsense. Can you see that it has three claws on its forelimbs? The Tyrannosaurus Rex, which incidentally means ‘king of the tyrant lizards’, had only two claws on each forelimb. And while commonly considered by a lot of people to be the most ferocious of dinosaurs, did you know that palaeontologists cannot agree on whether or not the so-called ‘T Rex’ was a predator or merely a scavenger?"

Who cares?

I suggest that you may be safer to imply that this dinosaur replica is an Allosaurus, which belonged to a different scientific family to the Tyrannosaurus Rex. It actually did have three claws, but in many other aspects this is a very poor and inaccurate representation. In particular the proportions are simply implausible. For example, the head isn’t large enough and the tail not long enough. And nobody can say for certain what colour the dinosaurs were, so I feel that this costume ought to come with a disclaimer.

The events coordinator and I exchanged a weary glance.

It’s only a costume, Elton, I reminded him.

If you’re going to instruct impressionable young minds about the prehistory of our planet and its occupants, it should be done with greater care so that fallacies or unknowns are not presented as truths, he lectured, earning himself another admiring flutter of the eyelashes from the young woman.

"It’s so important to develop children’s minds properly, she agreed, flicking back her thin hair and beaming up at him longingly. She eyed his arm muscles with such hunger that I began to wonder if she was a little less bland than she appeared. I hope to have many children myself."

It’s just a bit of fun, I persisted.

Buoyed by the feminine interest, Elton said, And what precisely is not fun about learning the truth? His young admirer nodded her head vigorously, frowning in my direction at my daring to argue with her new hero (and apparently, dream father of her future children).

Fortunately the events coordinator stepped in. Now, who’s the best fit? Her gaze slid up the length of Elton’s body, not without some pleasure. "Not you, you’re far too tall. In fact, you’re far too tall for anything. No one needs to be that tall. It’s just greedy." Her eyes passed over the young woman, dismissing her with a curt shake of her head. It was a good call. She looked as if she was the one person in the world who genuinely would be afraid of daffodils. The elderly gentleman received short shrift as well, and I could almost hear her mind flipping through the worker’s compensation claims if she used him. So, with all other options exhausted, her eyes landed on me and stayed there.

She raised her eyebrows and I sighed. Of course it would be me. Who else? But I couldn’t help remember that the last time I’d been in costume, it hadn’t ended well for me. And I had no great expectations that this time would prove any differently.

Taking that as assent, she began to explain the mechanics of the costume.

Mechanics? I thought warily.

She must have noticed the expression on my face because she smiled. There are only two mechanisms, both controlled by this remote. And she held up a small remote with two buttons on it. The button on the left controls the head. It roars. Very realistic. And the right-hand button controls the tail, which flicks back and forth.

It looks complicated, I whined, now wishing it had been a crappy foam costume. At least I could manage the technology of one of those. Well, except for the zip, I reminded myself.

It’s not. Not at all, she wheedled, unwilling to let the solution to her problems go easily. Climb in and we’ll give it a test run, um . . . What’s your name?

Tilly.

Thanks for doing this for me, Tilly. I really appreciate it. I’m Mabel, by the way. And this is Jeffrey and Alice.

Elton introduced himself and we all nodded at each other amiably.

I looked down at my uniform. I’m not wearing this. It will be roasting inside. It’s latex, isn’t it?

Elton butted in. Actually, natural latex is quite a breathable material. However, I suspect that this costume is made from synthetic latex as the natural product is expensive.

Yeah, yeah. Um, I’m going to strip to my undies now, everyone, I warned.

Nobody moved.

I’m taking my clothes off, people.

They all regarded me curiously. Oh geez! What the hell happened to privacy these days?

I evaluated. I had worn my sensible undies today – my panties were decently-sized plain white cotton and my bra was a sports one, useful if I needed to run on the job. In fact, there was more material in my undies than there was in some of my bikinis. I shrugged to myself. If they didn’t care, I didn’t. I had nothing to be ashamed about with my body, working hard in the gym for the last few months. So I slipped off my boots and socks and peeled off my uniform in front of them.

Oh my, Elton said softly, his eyes bugging out of his head.

Jeffrey grinned to himself, suddenly pleased with life.

Mabel sighed. I wish I was that age again.

Alice looked sad, peering down at her own chest with a disappointed frown.

How do I get into this thing? I asked, walking around it.

Mabel rushed forward, showing me the very discreet fastenings at the back. Not a zip, but velcro. She split it apart and held the costume for me as I stepped into it, pushing the two sides together again when I had.

I giggled as I found the sticks for the dino’s tiny arms. I waved them around, roaring, and stomped around the confined space, almost tripping over my new tail. And even Elton managed to crack a smile at my clumsy antics.

This will be fun, I thought to myself, clomping after Alice around the room. She screamed with delighted terror, finding it an excuse to hide behind Elton, clutching his waist, making him chuckle indulgently. And best of all, I’d get away from Elton and his endless information for a while.

Now for the head, said Mabel, hefting it into her arms. It’s quite heavy. Tilly, you won’t be able to get out of this costume by yourself.

Now she tells me! Perhaps I should have made a bathroom visit before starting this?

What about the remote? asked Jeffrey in a clipped crisp voice, the first time I’d heard him speak. She’ll need that with her, won’t she?

Of course! Thank you. It’s just on that table. Would you mind . . .? Jeffrey handed it to her and she opened the velcro again to free my hand to take it from her.

I pressed the right button and the tail of the costume swished violently, knocking Alice off her feet before swinging back to sweep everything off the small desk in one corner of the room. Something broke when it landed on the floor. I frantically pressed the button again to make it stop.

Whoops! Sorry, I said sheepishly, but Alice didn’t seem too upset as Elton gallantly helped her to her feet. Mabel quickly disposed of the broken mug, a slightly worried indentation appearing between her eyebrows. Maybe she was having second thoughts about me?

But she proceeded, with the help of Elton, in fitting the headpiece onto my shoulders. It was heavy and much taller than the top of my own head, giving me an unbalanced feel. Mabel attached the head to the costume, so that it was difficult to tell that it was a separate piece.

I unwisely pressed the left button just as Mabel was warning me about it. The jaws of the beast opened and emitted a roar of such magnitude and with such depth and growliness that I frightened myself and I knew I was about to do it. The others of course had no such warning and all screamed in varying degrees of fear and shrillness.

Holy shit, that’s loud! I shouted, trying to catch my breath.

That’s possibly inaccurate, pointed out Elton, the first to recover his composure. Some researchers believe that the dinosaurs were unable to vocalise because they appeared to lack vocal cords in their larynx. Much like common birds today don’t actually ‘speak’ because they don’t have vocal cords, instead using their syrinx to produce sound. Although this is conjecture as larynges don’t fossilise, so there’s no real proof one way or another whether dinosaurs had vocal cords.

It was strange inside the costume. I felt immediate sensory deprivation, Elton’s voice coming only indistinctly through the headpiece. And yeah, thank goodness for small mercies! My vision was limited to a small rectangle of mesh situated underneath the beast’s massive jaws.

Mabel spoke into the mesh, obviously well briefed on communicating with the entertainer. You look great. Thanks so much again, Tilly.

It’s heavy.

You’ll get used to it. Walk around for a while here before you go downstairs.

I lumbered out of the small room, careful to keep my thumb away from the buttons. I practised walking and moving the little arms, with advice from the others. Soon enough, I learned how to compensate for the extra weight and unbalance and was stomping around like an old hand, chasing Jeffrey this time. He guffawed and swatted me away when I backed him into a corner. I accidently pressed the left button and roared at him, deafening both of us, poor Jeffrey shrinking against the wall in pain.

Sorry! I yelled out, but he didn’t hear me. I guess nobody could hear through the costume unless they had their ear to the mesh. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to communicate with anyone.

I practised roaring and using the tail as I walked. Elton shouted out so many instructions on the gait of a real dinosaur that I was glad I could barely hear him. I was having enough trouble staying upright without worrying about whether or not I was being authentic.

That’s wonderful, Tilly. You’re going to be a hit, gushed Mabel into the mesh, eager to ensure that I continued in my new role. She checked her watch. Oh, we open in ten minutes. Let me take you downstairs in the lift.

I nodded to show I’d heard her, the huge head moving slowly up and down in response.

She smiled at me. It’s time to meet the public.

Sure, I thought with reckless abandon. Why not? What could possibly go wrong?

And you’d think I’d know better by now.

Chapter 2

I followed her out of the display and down a corridor flanked by a glass half-wall on one side that afforded a view of the bottom floor of the museum. We eschewed the escalator in favour of the lift. I had to duck my head to fit inside.

On the ground floor, Mabel introduced me to several museum staff. She yelled into the mesh that if I needed anything, I could contact one of them for assistance, as she would be busy upstairs in the display. That was a relief to hear, because nobody so far had mentioned breaks or free coffee. I’d had an early start this morning and free coffee would have been great right about now.

It’s time! I’m opening! croaked an octogenarian volunteer, giving us advanced warning as he slid back the glass doors to the three people crowding to get inside – a woman with two young boys. Oh, watch out, everyone. It’s real busy today.

Look, Mummy! said the younger boy, pointing at me, his eyes huge. A dinosaur!

That’s so cool, nodded the older boy, grinning. It’s a T Rex. Huh, so there, Elton, what do you know?

Thrilled to have fans already, I thudded my clumsy way over to them, swishing the tail as I walked. And while that made them even more excited, it wasn’t such a good idea as it really interfered with my balance. I stopped swishing when I realised that staggering around like that, I probably looked like a dinosaur that’d been sipping too freely on the gingko juice. And yes, Elton, I knew that dinosaurs didn’t make their own home brew.

When I pulled up near them, I swung my tail again. But to roar or not to roar? I didn’t want to frighten the children, so I compromised and stomped away from them before I let out a mighty roar.

The mother jumped in terror and uttered a few choice words that she probably immediately regretted letting her children hear her say. The boys screamed with happiness, chasing after me, begging me to do it again. So I turned around and roared directly at them, clomping towards them. They screamed again and ran to hide behind their mother.

The racket attracted the attention of some more newcomers and then some more. And before I knew it, I was in the middle of an enthusiastic crowd. The next couple of hours passed quickly because the museum became surprisingly busy and I was having so much fun entertaining the crowd.

I chased after a group of teens, roaring at them and forcing them to scatter, laughing. I ghosted people and when they noticed me following them, I stopped still and looked away innocently. I tapped people on the shoulder from behind, pantomiming a belly laugh at their reactions when they turned around to find a dinosaur standing next to them. I did a spot of moonwalking. I chased more teenagers and a couple of the braver young children. I boogied with some older dudes. I frightened more mothers into accidentally cursing in front of their kids by blasting my loudness at them. I made so many little children scream in delight that I gave myself a headache. I pulled an ‘aw, shucks’, hanging my head and scuffing my feet on the ground when a couple of young women hugged me, probably thinking I was a man. I had my photo taken a hundred times. I roared and I clomped and I swung my tail. I was a hit.

A local news crew, sent to cover the opening day, filmed me for a while and, yeah, I’ll admit that I played up to the camera, secure in my anonymity. Daniel and Niq would get a laugh out of it when we watched it together tonight.

But then I needed a break. I found one of the staff and caught their attention. They led me back to a staff room that contained a kitchenette and a bathroom. A couple of staff helped me take off the heavy head and let me out of the costume. They kindly offered me a long t-shirt to wear from lost property so that I didn’t have to sit around in my undies embarrassing everyone. I drank some water, used the facilities, sat down for ten minutes and let the sweat dry off. And then it was time to slip off the t-shirt, climb back into the costume, ready for Tilly the T Rex (Allosaurus, I imagined Elton whispering indignantly in my ear) to continue her starring performance.

Not long afterwards I was back in the middle of the crowd again, roaring and flicking my tail around, smugly congratulating myself for finding a job that paid me to have so much fun. Judging from the amount of people circulating around the bottom floor and heading to the escalator, Mabel didn’t need to worry about the show being a success. It seemed like a sure thing to me.

And that was when I felt it.

It started with a small tickle on my neck. I had just enough room inside the costume to twist my hand up to scratch at the spot. And then the tickle moved down my neck. And then there was another tickle on the other side of my neck as well. And one on the back of my neck. Yet another little tickle skittered its way across my shoulder blades. I wriggled them with itchiness, but there was no way I could scratch my back in my present circumstances. I tried to scratch it against the costume, but that didn’t help and only made the dino look as if it was doing the twist (which earned me a smattering of applause).

Something ran down my arm and I shrieked. I’m not that keen on creepy-crawly things to be honest. Especially when they’re inside a costume with me.

I held my arm up to the mesh panel where some light streamed in. Oh boy. I had a spider on my arm. No, rewind that. I had spiders – plural – on my arm. Lots of spiders. Lots of tiny baby spiders crawling on my arms and my neck and my back.

Oh God! I freaked. I desperately swatted at them, jerking and spinning, my body itching everywhere. To the crowd it would appear as though the dinosaur suddenly started convulsing.

Spiders! All over me! Now I could feel them on my face. They were probably in my hair.

I screamed and began stomping around wildly, trying at least to shake them off my body.

Somebody help me! I shouted. Please! There are spiders in here with me!

But nobody could hear me. People in the crowd nervously edged away from me, drawing their children to their side.

Somebody help! Please!

A couple of the museum staff, concerned expressions on their faces, rushed over to me. They attempted to speak to me as I danced about with increasingly frantic energy.

Are you all right? one asked, the master of the understatement, because I very clearly wasn’t all right.

"Spiders!" I screeched.

What?

Spiders! Get me out of here.

He turned to his colleague. What did she say? I can’t hear a word. His helpful colleague merely shrugged in ignorance. He took me by the arm and led me to one side, away from the curious eyes of the crowd. What’d you say?

I didn’t want to speak again, in case spiders crawled into my mouth. One was making an exploratory foray up my right nostril and a couple of others seemed to be building a web in my left ear. I waved the dino’s tiny arms around in what I hoped was an instantly recognisable mime for ‘get me the hell out of this costume because it’s full of spiders’.