Crash II: Highrise Hell by Michael Robertson

hanging from his grip. "Here."
    When the boy didn't take it, George frowned and shoved it further forwards.  
    Taking it this time, Ravi looked inside. "What's this for?"
    "Can't you just say thanks? Fucking hell, Ravi."
    "Thanks."
    A silhouette moved in the shadows of Ravi's flat. When George looked in, Ravi turned around. "Mum, come here."
    Despite spending a lot of time with the boy for these past few weeks, George had yet to meet his parents. Would they be insulted by his gift? Turning away, he looked into the dark hallway.  
    When he glanced back, he saw the small lady. She looked old beyond her years. The conditions she was living in were clearly taking their toll. Ravi had told him that she was in her sixties. If George were to guess without any prior knowledge, he would have put the fragile lady at about eighty. Time was different in this place. It was locked on fast forward. It sucked people in, chewed them up and spat out their shells. Another scream cut through the building and shook George to his core. It was weaker than those before it. What would be left of Sarah after her spell here?  
    After looking in the carrier bag that Ravi held open for her, Mrs. Vadher regarded George with her big, brown eyes. "Thank you."
    Dropping his gaze to the floor, George could feel his face heating up. "It's fine. You guys need to eat. It's as simple as that." When he looked back up, she still held him with the same penetrative stare. "I ... um, I hope I haven't offended you? I didn't come here to get smoke blown up my ar..." He stopped himself.
    Smiling, she nodded and held out her skinny hand.  
    Shaking it, George suddenly wished he'd washed the blood off his own.  
    When he tried to pull away she wouldn't let go. A wrinkly smile lit up her entire face and her warm eyes glowed. "Come in, son."
    "No. Thanks." Shaking his head, George backed away. "I can't. I have things to do."  
    "At three in the morning?"  
    The old woman's grip was surprisingly strong.
    Pulling again, George still couldn't get free. "I can't stay tonight, Mrs Vadher, I have things to do."
    Squeezing tighter still, she smiled.  
    Laughing, George shook his head. "You're not going to let me go, are you?"  
    The smile on her face broadened.  
    It was only when George stepped forwards that she eased her grip. Taking the bag of food, she stepped aside so he could enter their flat.  

    * * *

    The loud ching of George's knife connecting with the porcelain plate cut through the silence. Wincing, George looked up. The Vadhers remained focused on their meals. The most pronounced parts of their faces were highlighted by the weak candlelight. Everything else was lost to the dark.  
    There were three candles down the center of the table. Their flickering light animated the surrounding shadows. This was the first time George had been in the Vadhers' flat, and it was impossible to know what was hiding in the darkness surrounding them.  
    The impromptu cold stew that Mrs. Vadher had whipped up made George's mouth water as he ate it. "This is lovely, Mrs. Vadher. How did you make something so delicious with a can of corned beef, tinned tomatoes, and garlic puree?"
    Ravi's mum giggled.  
    When George looked over at Ravi, he saw him sink in his seat.  
    "Thank you, George," she said. "It's nice to have company, even at this time in the morning."
    A smile lifted one side of his mouth as he looked at the five digital clocks on the mantelpiece. "Why do you have so many clocks?" His breath was visible when he spoke.
    "In case one runs out of batteries," Ravi said. "If one or two run out, we have time to replace the batteries before any more go. That way, we always know what time it is."
    Taking another mouthful, George was hit with a strong concentration of salt that pulled his neck tight. It was obviously from the cheap meat rather than the recipe. What would this woman do with all the right ingredients and functioning appliances? "But what does it matter what time