North End
Page 4
Chapter Four
Tom tried again to push open the emergency exit door, this time putting all his force on it. ‘Open, you stupid door!’ he shouted out. It did, and he stumbled onto the muddy ground in front of him.
He could feel the fresh but cold air against his skin as he quickly got up and went forwards. It had stopped raining but was damp and wet.
He looked around him and saw that he was in a fenced off area set back from a street. The fence was about five-and-a-half feet high and had a pair of wide locked gates in the middle of it. But it and the gates were made up of green metal spikes too sharp to climb over.
He looked for some other escape route. But as he looked back in the darkness at the small white building he saw some movement at the door he had come from.
Damn! They’re here, he thought to himself. He hesitated no longer and quickly grabbed two spikes at the top of the gates, put his right foot through the space where the padlock bolt was, and hurled himself over. The gates wobbled a little and he landed badly hurting his left thigh and knee but got up straight away and ran in the direction he landed.
As he was running – almost staggering now because of his legs - he noticed there was a private housing estate on his right and he could see some tops of houses over the wall on his left. But it was all a bit of a blur; his only thoughts were of escape.
He then realised where he was but continued to run until he got to the end of the road, which he remembered was called Hampstead Way. This led to North End road, which in turn led down to Golders Green, where he lived. At this point he stopped, totally out of breath, his body wasted, and his teeth in pain for some reason. He quickly turned around to see if the creatures had followed him but could not see them. He looked at his watch: it was 12.28 a.m.
He began walking very fast down the hill. He was too exhausted to run anymore but looked behind him constantly to see if the creatures were following him. He knew that he had to get help. The girl was obviously in danger if she were still alive. He reached into his pocket for his mobile phone.
Damn! he said to himself. The front of his phone was smashed: it had been in his left trouser pocket and he must have damaged it when he landed badly after climbing over the gates. He tried to switch it on but nothing happened. He then heard and saw a car coming up the hill: it was the police!
He could not believe his luck and staggered out into the middle of the road, waving his arms wildly for the car to stop. The policeman in the car slowed down and motioned for Tom to go over to the pavement. He then parked his car next to him. He was alone but quite big Tom noticed.
P.C. Terry Roberts got out of the car and walked round it to where the teenager was moving in an impatient and agitated way. ‘Take it easy, kid,’ Terry said in his quite strong London accent. He kept the teenager in front of him, at the same time looking around him. He then got his name before asking, ‘What’s happened?’
‘A girl’s been...kidnapped,’ Tom said with an effort, still breathing heavily.
‘Kidnapped? Where?’ Terry asked looking concerned.
‘In the tube station back there,’ Tom answered, ‘by some creatures.’
‘Creatures? Are you winding me up?’ demanded Terry.
‘No. They’re not really creatures but humans. I’ll show you. It’s back up there down Hampstead Way. Let’s go. We can still save her,’ Tom said about to move back up the hill.
‘Hang on kid. There is no tube station up there, except Hampstead, which is far away. The nearest one is Golders Green, down the hill. D’you think I’m stupid or what?’ Terry asked, now beginning to believe that this kid was trying to have some fun with him.
‘No. It’s a disused one. I’ve just escaped from it. We must return there now!’ Tom said beginning to move up the hill again.
‘Stop there! Have you been drinking?’ demanded Terry sharply, having smelt some alcohol on Tom’s breath.
Tom stopped. ‘Yes, but only a couple of bottles of beer. Look I know how this seems. I still can’t quite believe it myself. But it has happened and there is a girl in danger. We have GOT to help her before it’s too late!’ he finished saying this a little too aggressively.
Terry was now annoyed and determined to catch his smart kid out. ‘What’s the girl’s name?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ answered Tom in an agitated way, ‘I only saw her.’
‘All right then, what did she look like?’ asked Terry.
Tom seemed frustrated. ‘I don’t really remember...She had blonde hair, I think...She looked quite short and had a light coloured jacket and jeans on...It was dark.’
‘You said it was in a tube station so how could it be dark?’ asked Terry now feeling he had caught Tom out. A dark tube station, he thought to himself. Ha, ha, I don’t think so.
‘But it was a disused tube station. It--‘
‘Listen,’ Terry said firmly, ‘It’s a criminal offence to waste police time and be drunk and disorderly. So either you start walking home now, or I arrest you.’ Terry was now completely fed up with this middle-class kid who had obviously been drinking and was trying to be clever with him. He had seen the type before, and Tom with his educated voice, gelled- spiked-bleached hair, and student-like clothing fitted the description very well.
‘I’m not lying!’ said Tom in a raised voice, ‘I wish I--‘
‘Be quiet!’ demanded Terry. The radio from his car started communicating a message, ‘Could all units attend...’ Terry went to get back in his car.
Terry noticed Tom a little unsteady on his feet rush round to him as he got back into the driver’s seat.
‘Please. You must help me. I’m not lying. Honest,’ Tom pleaded.
‘Go home to mummy and daddy and waste someone else’s time, kid!’ Terry said before saying something on his radio. As if I haven’t got enough problems with real criminals, he thought, as he drove off with his sirens blazing.
Tom watched him go in the middle of the road, feeling his little remaining energy both physical and mental drain away. He turned around and got back on the pavement. I wish I could go home to mummy and daddy, he thought a little sadly.
What can I do now? he then wondered. If the police will not help me then who will? He could not answer these questions and continued his journey home, walking down the hill, still looking around him but not as frequently. The creatures were obviously not following him. There was also no one else around in the cold, damp, and dark night.
He was exhausted and the only thing he wanted to do now was go to sleep. He could not go back to the station on his own: he would be killed. The girl was probably dead by now anyway, so what else could he do? He left the question unanswered and eventually, sometime after 1.30 a.m., got home and went straight to bed.