Eden Relics (A Zac Woods novel #1): Author royalties for Cancer Research

by N Williams

  The dual carriageway was ahead. A red traffic light was facing him as Gates pushed the Ka harder towards the junction. He could see Sally suddenly stiffen and straighten her legs in the footwell.

  ‘You’ll be better off if you don’t do that.’

  ‘I’m bracing myself.’

  ‘If your legs are stiff when we crash you’ll break them and have them shoved up into your pelvis. Saw one of those once... nasty! Relax and go with it.’

  Gates didn’t need to check the rearview mirror. He could see the lorry in his peripheral vision. It wasn’t able to accelerate like the Ka but literally had tons of momentum. Gates knew that if the truck got within ramming range then he and Sally would be in big trouble.

  A small two-seat Smart car was stationary at the traffic lights, next to the footpath. The road opened up into two narrow lanes at the traffic lights, allowing cars to ready themselves for the two lane stretch ahead. Assorted cars and vans, buses and the usual town traffic were crossing the junction in front.

  Gates pulled over to the right lane and looked out to his right. There was so much traffic, but he’d have to risk it, he thought. With just a little pressure on the brakes, Gates simultaneously held down the car horn and flicked on the headlights. The nearest car braked and began to stop. The car behind it collided with the back end, pushing it across the road in front of the Ka. Gates pulled hard on the handbrake and steered right. The Ka slid around to the right, and as it was parallel to the other traffic Gates let go of the handbrake, slammed down the accelerator and turned left through a narrow gap. The Ka slipped between the two vehicles with just inches to spare.

  The sound of Sally screaming brought another smile to Gates’ face.

  The Ka shot off down the dual carriageway as the lorry destroyed the traffic at the junction. Gates could see vehicles rise into the air before crashing back down again and being spread apart by the front of the truck.

  The little Ka sped on along the dual carriageway. The road was mainly straight, with a few shallow curves along the way. Gates knew it was a couple of miles to the next junction. That gave him plenty of time to put a lot of distance between themselves and the lorry.

  CHAPTER 54

  Gates had put a lot of fresh air between the Ka and the lorry and he finally allowed himself to relax. There was another mile or so to the off-junction, and there’d be plenty of options to lose the lorry there.

  The road swept around to the left, and Gates went wide to extend his view around the corner. As he pushed the little car around the bend in the road, he saw the tell-tale flashing blue lights of emergency vehicles ahead.

  ‘Bollocks! The copper must have called his mates.’

  Sally sat up in her seat. ‘Shit! What now?’

  ‘We stop and ask for directions.’

  Gates drove up to the roadblock. Armed police stepped out from their cars, automatic weapons pointed at the Ka.

  He switched off the engine and wound down the window. Gates thrust his right arm out through the window and placed it, palm down, on the roof. The other hand he kept in view on the steering wheel. He was telling Sally to do the same when a voice, amplified by a megaphone, began to bark out orders. ‘Place your hand on the roof and the other on the wheel.’

  Gates couldn’t resist the temptation. ‘Already done it...see.’ He waved his hand on the roof. The click of a gun safety being switched made him abandon the humour.

  ‘Now. Slowly, driver first! Use your right hand to open the door. Outside handle only!’

  Gates was already doing it. He had been involved in so many armed standoffs like this in the past, but he had always been on the other end of them on those previous occasions.

  The megaphone ordered them both to lie on the floor. Gates was having none of it. He could hear the sound of the lorry engine getting closer. In less than a minute that monster truck would be on top of them.

  ‘Listen guys, we don’t have time...’

  ‘Shut up,’ said the megaphone. ‘Don’t move, other than to lie on the ground. Do it NOW!’

  Gates took a glance behind him. The lorry was now in sight and hurtling around the corner towards them.

  ‘I think you’d better get out of the way,’ shouted Gates.

  The police officers seemed unsure for the briefest of moments; the commander stood rigid. He’d seen the lorry at last. The officers split and ran in all directions, megaphone squealing as it was dropped and left abandoned in the road.

  Gates shouted at Sally to get back in the car and quickly followed. He fired up the engine and floored the accelerator. The little Ka shot forwards into a sharp right hand turn as the lorry struck the rear of the driver’s side.

  Sally screamed and huddled herself into a ball on the front passenger seat.

  As Gates had planned, the turning movement of the car reduced the force of the crash and the impact was glancing rather than full on, but Gates felt a pain in his knee as the door was pushed inwards onto his leg. The Ka, right side bent in and resembling a banana, shot off alongside the lorry in the opposite direction as the truck ploughed through the police roadblock.

  Sally straightened up on the seat, as Gates began to sing a pub version of a Freddie Mercury song. ‘I want to break free, I want to breeeaaaak freee.’

  Sally sighed and began to relax when she realised they were heading back the way they had come earlier. Her mood changed as she realised they were heading back down the carriageway - on the wrong side of the road.

  ‘SHIT!’ she screamed as a large white van hurtled around the corner towards them, followed by several cars and smaller vans. Thankfully, they all seemed to have seen the roadblock ahead and were slowing down rapidly, headlights flashing and horns blaring as the little Ka dared to head towards them.

  Gates had already positioned the car on the right of the carriageway and was tucked in close to the verge. This meant the heavies would be more likely to meet them head on. Gates had quickly weighed up the odds and decided he preferred the option of the heavies to the faster cars in the outside lane - more time to think and react.

  Gates checked his rearview mirror as the Ka began to take the first bend. A quick check over his shoulder confirmed his worse fears; that the lorry had smashed through the police line and had disappeared. He hoped that would be the last they’d see of it.

  The oncoming traffic was now crawling. Gates could see that the vehicles in his lane were stubbornly refusing to give way to him, the flashing lights and noise from the horns screaming their anger at the little vehicle.

  Gates swung the car half onto the grass verge, tilting it at an angle as he pushed it faster towards the junction he wanted to reach before the police could stop him. He knew he had nothing to fear from the police; he was simply trying to escape a killer in a truck, but he couldn’t afford to waste the time involved with interviews. God only knew what danger Zac was facing at this very minute. They had to get back to him, and fast.

  CHAPTER 55

  Zac walked out of the air-conditioned foyer of the building and into the car park. His Jaguar was parked in the visitors’ bay, and he was expecting to see Sally’s white Ka sitting somewhere nearby. The car park was surprising quiet for such a large company, and the Ka was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the empty park had something to do with the congestion charge - people preferring to take public transport than driving their cars through the city. But where had Gates gone? It was unlike him to leave before he knew everything was okay.

  He clicked the remote door lock and fished a packet of Silk Cut from out of the glove box. He didn’t smoke; at least that’s what he told everyone and tried to convince himself. He just kept a packet in case of emergencies. He hadn’t smoked for over a month. The last time was during his decision to take retirement. As he lit the cigarette, he could taste the age of the stale and dry tobacco. It would have to do.

  Zac sat on the bonnet of his car, thinking about the conversation he’d just had with Sir Eddie. The man was sick, there was no doubt ab
out that. The man’s desire to extend his life was understandable. He was a billionaire and obviously wanted to hold onto his wealth for a lot longer than the time frame currently pencilled in for him. But how did such an obviously intelligent man become so obsessed with ancient bones that would probably turn out to be useless? What was more troubling was the fact that he was also prepared to kill to get his hands on the relics

  It was a lovely day. It was odd how London always seemed to have better weather than Wales. Perhaps it was the heat pumped into the atmosphere by the city? Zac decided to wait another ten or fifteen minutes for his friends to return. They must have gone for a coffee. Great support team, he thought wryly. He checked his phone and pressed dial alongside Gates’ number. He hung up as the phone went directly to voicemail.

  The industrial estate was full of large glass-fronted buildings and smaller retail units. Coffee shops and bookstores exploited their position within a hive of consumerism. Zac was surprised to see a pharmaceutical company taking centre stage in such a prestigious retail park.

  It was lovely to relax a little, to let off steam and cool down. Zac loved to people-watch. It was a habit he had picked up during his time in the force. Shoppers were dressed in the typical tees and shorts, making the most of the nice weather for a change. The only exception to this was the odd-looking man and woman sitting on a bench on the far side of the car park. Both were dressed in long coats. They looked out of place. There was also something about the thin man, something familiar. Then it registered. It was the thin guy who had attacked Zac on the roof of the castle. Zac hadn’t seen the woman before, but she could have been the one who coshed him on the head from behind.

  Zac dropped the cigarette and stubbed it with his shoe. They were facing him and clearly thought Zac hadn’t seen them. He needed to know how they figured in all this. They could be working for Stockwell. Perhaps they were a tail-team?

  The roar of a throaty V-8 engine drew his gaze. A metallic-grey Aston Martin pulled into a staff parking bay outside the main door to the building. A smartly dressed man climbed out of the car and straightened his tie. The man looked towards Zac and smiled. Zac nodded his head politely and was surprised to see the man walk over towards him.

  ‘Good day, Mr Woods.’ The man held out his hand in greeting. ‘I’m Bradley Farrell.’ When Zac didn’t recognise the name he continued with a shrug. ‘I understand the meeting with my employer didn’t go as well as we hoped.’

  ‘Must pay you well,’ said Zac,- looking at the Aston.

  ‘Sir Eddie is a very generous man, Mr Woods. He is also a very good man.’

  ‘Well he does a bloody good job of appearing to the contrary. How many people are dead now because of him?’

  ‘I’m afraid you are making assumptions that are way off the mark, Mr Woods. I understand your reluctance to join our side, but you only have a small understanding of what’s going on. There is so much you still don’t know. Sir Eddie is not the monster you believe him to be. His interests extend way beyond his everyday business. He is interested in antiquities, not just because of the possible benefits from a pharmaceutical viewpoint, but because he believes that we can learn much about our ancestors. He believes that they were far more knowledgeable about the world and life than we are now. By recovering the lost treasures of the past, he believes we can learn to live better lives today.’

  ‘A grand idea. You make him sound like some great anthropologist.’

  ‘He is, but he’s also a philanthropist. He wants to make the world a better place for us all, Mr Woods.’

  ‘Well I fail to see how he’ll achieve that by murdering innocent people.’

  ‘All is not as it may seem. Sir Eddie is not involved in those murders.’

  Zac laughed. ‘Well I have to tell you that it sure looks like the evidence is beginning to point that way.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s better you remain distant from us, Mr Woods. We would prefer you to report back to us but realise that it may be an issue for you at this time. But that doesn’t mean to say that we won’t be following your movements extremely closely.’

  ‘Like those two sitting on the bench over there?’ Zac indicated the couple in the long coats.

  Farrell looked annoyed but said nothing.

  ‘Let me tell you something, Mr Farrell. I don’t work for anyone anymore. I’ve retired from the police and I have no intention of working for anyone else, certainly not for some murdering old deluded bastard.’

  Farrell grimaced.

  ‘I know you’ll be keeping a close eye on me…but I’m a big boy and can look after myself.’

  ‘Be careful, Mr Woods. You no longer have the law to hide behind and all is not what it appears to be. There are others who also want to get their hands on the relics for their own selfish reasons. We are acting for the good of humanity. They are acting against it. At some point, you will have to pick a side. You would be well advised to choose ours.’

  The sound of a screaming and coughing engine spluttered into the car park and pulled up alongside the Aston with a final bang. The damage to Sally’s car was extensive; it was bent like a banana and steaming like a sauna.

  Farrell frowned. ‘Looks like your friends followed you after you were asked to come alone.’

  ‘They never listen to me,’ smiled Zac.

  Farrell turned on his heel and began to walk towards the foyer of the building. As he reached the door, he turned and called back. ‘Don’t forget that we are not your enemies, Mr Woods…you need to look closer to home.’

  The revolving door spun Farrell from view as Zac pondered his parting remarks.

  The passenger door of the Ka fell open like a circus act Zac had once seen. Sally stepped out of the way for Gates to extract himself across the seats.

  ‘Sorry, Zac. Been for a spin around the block,’ smiled Gates.

  ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  ‘Don’t ask...I’ll tell you over a pint. I think we just need to get out of here pronto before psycho-trucker and his mate return to finish us off.’

  *

  The Hertz hire company near Russell Row was still open as the truck thundered along the busy London streets. Bourse checked his watch; five minutes before five - just enough time to acquire alternative transport. He dumped the wrecked truck outside the office. The two men gave the wheel and anything else they might have touched in the cab a quick wipe over before they jumped down onto the road and strolled casually into the building.

  Fifteen minutes of form filling later, Tourrain steered the Volvo XC90 through the bus lanes towards the M4. The supply of fake driving licenses had been exhausted, something he’d need to address as soon as this mission was over.

  CHAPTER 56

  The three friends walked up the ramp into the foyer of the castle. Zac smiled as he watched Gates struggle with the tie he knew he only wore on very special occasions. Tonight was one such occasion for the big man. After the near miss with the truck, Gates had decided a date with the lovely Ffion would be a pleasant distraction from the recent unpleasant events. Having made the call on the journey home, they had decided it would be a good time to return to the castle to try and make sense of the missing pieces of the elaborate puzzle they had found themselves embroiled in. Ffion had agreed to meet Gates for a drink after her shift finished at ten and a quick stop off at a motorway service station had provided Gates with the opportunity to spruce himself up and buy the necktie for his date.

  Ffion was still at the reception desk when they arrived and she slipped Zac a key to a couple of vacant rooms for the night. His impression of the receptionist had changed since their first meeting. She was turning out to be a useful ally and had delivered the antique music player to the room before they arrived.

  Sally and Zac retired to one of the rooms, whilst Gates decided that the rumble of his stomach needed something to calm the growing gastric thunder whilst he waited for Ffion to finish her shift. A table near the fireplace had been set for him, and he finally
began to relax with a nice bottle of Merlot and a growing anticipation for the steak and “afters” - in the shape of the lovely Ffion.

  The sound of voices in reception drew Ffion away from the table. A small minibus load of guests had arrived for another evening of spiritual games. Gates wasn’t too bothered. The steak and Merlot would provide enough company for the next half-hour or so, and he believed that anything good was always worth waiting for.

  *

  Sally and Zac pondered the contents of the diary. Everything was pointing towards the mysterious relics being somewhere in the vicinity of the castle, but where?

  The antique cylinder player sat on the bedside table. It had taken Sally just thirty seconds to load the old clay disc onto the hand-driven player, after Zac had struggled for nearly thirty minutes to do the same thing.

  ‘Okay, smarty-knickers, what’s next?’

  Taking a deep breath, Sally placed the old needle into the groove of the fragile clay disc and began to turn the handle on the side of the case. A metallic crackle rattled within the large curving sound horn as the needle began to follow the old pre-cut track.

  Smiling, Sally poured two glasses of Pinot Grigiot into two glasses kindly provided by their new receptionist friend and sat next to Zac on the overstuffed bed.

  The crackling continued to grate on their ears as a soprano voice finally began to sing along to the orchestration.

  ‘No prizes for guessing who’s doing the singing. Sounds a bit scratchy.’

  Sally took a large gulp of her wine. ‘You’d sound scratchy after a hundred years too. Don’t forget, Adelina was in her seventies by the time she started making recordings.’

  ‘Fair comment.’ Zac listened for a moment. He knew the song; he had heard it as a child. ‘That’s “No Place Like Home.”’

  Looking impressed, Sally raised her glass and clinked it against Zac’s. ‘Opera buff, as well as an art expert, are you?’