‘Yeah.’
‘Good. Max is concerned. He’s lost a man and has been keen to hear about your progress.’
‘I left him a message last night, but he’s not one for returning calls. Who’s he lost?’
‘Black bloke. Winston.’
‘The prick who took a shot at me in the Hangman?’
‘Yeah, that’s him.’
‘Found him. Well dead, toasted in an auto crash. No child, but…’ Ben watched Abe as he drove the vehicle at a reckless speed. He touched his arm, and indicated with his free hand to slow down. ‘We’re not going to be able to get Claudia back without the child, eh? We’re running out of places to look.’
‘Tommy rang me,’ Wynona said.
‘Oh, right. I was just about to ring him. What did he want with you?’
‘He reckons he’s seen Peg Leg.’
‘Peg Leg’s dead. Tommy of all people knows that.’
‘Not true, according to Tommy. I’ve spoken to my sergeant, and he says Barney is using soldiers for surveillance and shit. It wouldn’t surprise me if Barney sent a couple of mercenaries up to the Lowlands to find the boy.’
‘What’s the boy got to do with Barney?’
‘He’s baiting you. If Peg Leg finds the child, then you’ll follow him back to Ostere. And Peg Leg will find the child.’
‘If he’s alive. I’ve just passed two soldiers, possibly mercenaries, and they didn’t have the child. And they weren’t Peg Leg.’
‘So where do you think the child is?’
‘I don’t know. It could be back at the Gypsy camp. They’ve gone to ground since the house burnt down. But I’m heading back to the pub. If Peg Leg’s there, then I’m with you thinking he’ll find the child, eh?’
‘You know the press have got a new picture of you and are screening it on most news reports.’
‘How have they got a new picture?’
‘Oh, you can thank Barney for that one. He and your mother have struck up a fair old acquaintance. It’s a fetching photo. You’re all done up in white with a cable knit jumper. Real classy, not.’
‘Creams? Cricket creams from my last year at school? My bloody mother has given them the photo of me captaining our school team. She loved that photo. Man, I was shit at school, but sport was my thing and she thought me getting picked as captain was pretty cool. That photo sat on the mantelpiece front and center like a trophy. Even my old man thought it was pretty clever. What is their problem?’
Ben dropped the phone from his ear and cursed at the passing scenery. He didn’t understand why his mother wanted him caught. Abe offered him a smile. The car sped into the growing gloom, the headlights flashing on the close thick hedgerows.
‘By the way, your Hangman’s Pub is a closed pub,’ Wynona said. ‘It has no license to sell alcohol. The landlord, a man going by the name of Trevor Francis, is a major figure in the Clan. There are a group of brothers, cousins and uncles going by the name of Shepherd in the area who purport to be farmers, but they haven’t milked a cow or sown a crop in ten years. I don’t know what they’re doing, or how they’re making a living, but supplying the country with produce isn’t happening. You need to watch your step. I don’t know what they’re doing living out there in Hicksville, but be wary.’
Abe took a corner with a load of grunting and squealing of wheels. He had the lights on full beam, fighting with a thick mist and the gravel kept the tires spinning.
‘Remember to call me before you get back,’ Wynona said.
‘If I survive the journey back to the pub, I will, eh?’ Ben glared at Abe.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hangman Turns Bad
Abe gave way to a long, black sedan as it pulled into the carpark of the Hangman’s Noose Public House. Ben pointed Abe to the back of the pub and he parked by the outhouse, the nose of the jeep pointing towards the beer garden. They watched the sedan disappear beyond the trees.
‘Let’s check in with the gang; then I’m going to have a look at what’s going on up that track. As they approached the puddle outside the pub, the first stars offered the dying day a twinkle.
Trev the Landlord gave them a cursory glance as they stepped into the pub. ‘You guys must like the service,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be heading back home by now.’
‘We’re still looking for that child I was here with.’
‘Your mate took the child. I told your girlfriend that.’
‘No, and no mate of mine, but very dead and no child. He was a victim of a hit and run out on the road running along the bottom of Malcombe Prison. Car’s burnt out with three dead bodies.’
‘That’s too bad. So why you back here.’
‘You got our car.’
‘Your car be knackered.’
‘Ben?’ Tommy called from beyond the chimney breast. ‘You all right?’
Ben left Abe at the bar to collect their drinks and entered the back bar. Tommy sat at the table with Loubie next to him. Her head rested against the whitewashed wall with her coat acting as a pillow. Pete’s bandage had loosened and the wound bled. Ben sat next to Tommy and watched Abe enter with the drinks.
‘Where’s Claudia?’ He took a sip of his drink and produced his tin of ready-made cigarettes.
‘She’s following Peg Leg.’
Ben punched Tommy hard on the arm. ‘You’re losing it, Tommy.’
‘Ow! Why’d you hit me?’
‘Peg Leg’s dead. You shot him, eh? That’s what you told me.’
Tommy shook his head, his eyes big and his face pale. ‘No, he’s not.’ He kept shaking his head. ‘I saw him sitting right on that chair on the other side of the fire. He was with another soldier, but they left, and Claudia followed them. Wynona told us to keep him in sight.’
‘So where is he now?’
Loubie stood and backed toward the bar as Abe sat down. Ben touched Tommy’s arm. ‘So Claudia’s gone and you’re positive you’ve seen a ghost. And you’re sitting here because…?’
‘Well, someone had to stay with Loubie and Peg Leg knows me, don’t he? You know he’d kill me for sure if he saw me. So I stayed here, you know. It seemed sensible.’
‘So you didn’t kill him.’ Ben became aware of the attention directed at their table. Trev and the Shepherd brothers had stopped drinking, all heads turned to their position. Ben shifted his chair to block their view and lowered his voice. ‘I mean you were positive you killed him.’
‘I emptied the gun into his bloody body, Ben.’ Tommy’s voice bordered on hysterical.
Ben held his hands up for calm.
‘But he’s alive and he’s here. Why’s he here?’
Wynona had told him why Barney might’ve recruited soldiers to his cause, but he felt confused by Peg Leg’s resurrection. ‘To get Lucas,’ Ben said. ‘But I can’t imagine he’s happy with us and he knows we’re here.’
‘We’re fucked Ben. Peg Leg’s going to kill us and those farmers aren’t very friendly. We haven’t got a car.’ Tommy gripped Ben’s coat looking at Ben for guidance. ‘Look at them?’ His eyes darted between the men at the bar and Ben. ‘Those farmers have turned on us. What have we done to them?’
‘They’re not farmers according to Wolf Girl.’
‘What are they?’
Abe left the table, poking his head into the front bar. Ben watched him settle at the bar with his ale and turned back to Tommy.
‘I don’t know. I don’t really care, but I need to see what’s going on up that track. I’m assuming that’s where Claudia’s gone.’
‘She’s been gone an age.’
Ben called out to Trev. He stood with the Shepherd brothers. ‘You haven’t seen the girl who came with Tommy, have you?’
Trev and the Shepherd brothers spread out in a line and no one answered. Ben pointed to the front door. ‘She was a short girl, lots of hair. I mean she went out that door following the soldiers. That right, Tommy?’
Tommy nodded with enthusiasm and pointed at the front door.<
br />
Trev pulled his pipe from his mouth; he wasn’t smiling. ‘It’s time you guys be leaving. We thought we might be taking that note off your hands, but now you just be boring the shit out of us. So drink up and fuck off.’
‘Not without the girl. Not without the boy.’ Ben strode from the pub and walked into the puddle, his boots kicking at the water. Tommy appeared at the door.
‘We going, Ben?’
‘No.’
‘Just those farmers don’t want us about.’
‘They’re not farmers and this isn’t a pub, Tommy. And we’ll go when we’re damn good and ready.’
‘Do you know where Loubie is?’
‘No. Jesus, Tommy, just sit back in there and wait for me. I’m heading up the back lane. Those fucking arses in there are taking the piss.’
Tommy followed, but stopped in the middle of the carpark when he saw Loubie sitting in the back of the jeep with Abe. He chose to give them space and sat on a table in the beer garden. Abe sounded nasty, snarling at Loubie. She had shrunk back against the door, her head shaking and her hands up defending herself.
‘Please,’ Tommy heard Abe plead.
‘No.’ Loubie’s voice had strength, but it bordered on hysterical.
‘No More.’ The scream broke the night and Tommy ran for the jeep. He yanked the door open. ‘Loubie?’
Abe had collapsed in her lap and she slapped him with her left hand. Loubie was hysterical. She wriggled and kicked, trying to get away from the man. Tommy grabbed his shoulders and pushed him at the opposite door. He groaned, and bloodied hands clutched at his stomach.
Loubie kicked at his legs, screaming and crying. Her body shivered and her eyes stared. Tommy held Loubie, but she bit and scratched at his face.
‘Ben,’ he called as he backed out of the jeep.
Ben ran for the side of the vehicle and helped Tommy drag Loubie from the car. He dumped her on the ground and left her with Tommy. Abe’s head flopped backward when Ben opened the opposite door. His body hung at an awkward angle, and Ben lifted him back into the vehicle.
‘Ben!’ Tommy’s voice was panicked
Ben shut the door and ran to Tommy’s call. Loubie sat in the puddle, the bloodied knife in her hand stabbing at her arm. Tommy floundered before her, wanting to take the knife but afraid he might wear the blade. The girl rocked back and forth, the mewing noise prominent. Ben stepped to the edge of the water, concerned by her state of mind. He felt something building in the girl and it scared him.
Tommy pulled at her left arm, trying to clamp the bleeding wound. Loubie swung at him with the knife and Tommy jumped backward and dodged the knife by a shave.
‘Loubie, you need to put the knife down, eh?’ Ben said.
Her pale face turned to Ben. Tears reflected in the soft light from the pub. ‘He tried to touch me.’
Ben looked at Tommy. The voice sounded detached, devoid of emotion.
‘She means Abe,’ Tommy said. ‘Not me.’
‘He was never to touch me again. Never again. I promised me it wouldn’t happen. I warned him, I did. I told him if he ever touched me again I’d kill him, I did for sure.’
Tommy turned to Ben. ‘Is he dead?’
Ben shook his head, but he wasn’t sure. He left Tommy fretting by the puddle and ran back to the jeep. He pulled the door open and Abe fell out of the car. His head hit the ground before his body folded out, his feet catching on the front seating. Blank eyes watched the scattering of stars twinkling through the wisps of cloud. Ben reached forward and pulled Abe’s coat apart and revealed the dark, blood soaked pullover.
He left Abe hanging out of the jeep and returned to the puddle. ‘You couldn’t stop her? She’s only little.’
‘Stop what.’
‘She’s killed him. What was she doing with a knife? Didn’t you take the knife off her after the last incident?’
‘Jesus, Ben, don’t put this shit on me. I’m not her bloody father, you know.’
Tommy cried out in horror as he watched blood flow from Loubie’s arm. The knife cut across the top of her bicep, the cut slow and the blood thick. He splashed through the water to grab her arm and wrench the thin blade from her grasp. He threw it across the car park, and clamped his hand to the cut.
‘Jesus, Ben, help me. The girl’s lost it.’
They lifted Loubie from the puddle and placed her against the pub wall. She let her head fall against a flower box of soggy earth and dead weeds. Ben sat at her side, pressing his thumb deep above the cut to restrict the blood flow. Tommy unwound the loose bandage, fitting it tight to her arm, and winding the bandage to cover the new cut.
Loubie knocked her head against the window box while Tommy sat by the puddle and washed his hands in the muddy water.
‘They all piss in that puddle,’ Ben said.
Tommy stood with his hands held out like a surgeon waiting for latex gloves. ‘Why?’ he said.
Ben helped Loubie into the pub and sat her by the fire.
‘Is he dead?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Loubie, he’s dead.’
‘Good.’ It wasn’t a victorious statement. The girl wasn’t gloating, but Ben felt a release, a shit load of pain exorcised with that one word.
Ben pressed Tommy to sit beside the girl, to hold her and keep pressure on the wound. Ben looked up at Trev and the Shepherds and noticed two of them held rifles.
‘I asked you to leave. Now I’m telling you.’
‘I don’t think that’s possible.’
The men carrying the weapons stepped forward.
‘Wrong answer.’ He threw Ben a set of keys. ‘Black jeep parked by the outside toilet. Take it and dump it. We don’t need it no more.’
Chapter Thirty
Soldiers Set Up
A jeep bumped across the uneven paddock and parked deep in the cover of trees. Two soldiers in full camouflage sat up front with cigarettes burning, the windows cracked open to allow the smoke to exit. A slight noise of feedback crackled from the radio.
‘Where is he?’ the taller soldier murmured.
‘Don’t know, but this is where he said to be.’ The second soldier, a squat man, bordering on fat, slouched low in the seat.
‘He said to check in.’
‘Yeah, but this is where he said to be, so we’re okay.’
Peg Leg stood behind the vehicle watching his soldiers.
‘It’s some sort of club,’ the squat soldier said. The two men watched the shed before them. ‘It’s for posh blokes to get away and live rough.’
‘How do you know that?’ The taller soldier leant forward on the steering wheel, his head brushing the tin roof.
‘Just something I read. These blokes who got everything like to go wild and get dirty. They run naked with spears and hunt for their dinner.’
‘There were some good motors parked out back. I can see them posh blokes smoking fat cigars and drinking brandy. What do you reckon?’
‘What? After the hunting? After they’ve killed’ The squat man pulled his hat low and settled deeper into the hard seat. ‘Yeah, I can see that.’
‘What they going to hunt around here? Can’t be much fun stalking sheep or cows.’
‘There’s wolves and wild boar. You don’t want to be caught in a forest with a spear if a wild boar’s coming at you. No, there’s plenty to hunt.’
Peg Leg tapped the back of the jeep with his revolver and stepped forward. The two soldiers sat straight. ‘Report.’
‘No sign of the child in the mines.’
‘No, soldier. It was a long shot. So where is Street Boy?’ The soldier stared at the windscreen. ‘I’m assuming you have him in your sights and that Tommy the Car is with him.’
‘All present and accounted for,’ the soldier answered.
‘Where?’
Both men looked straight ahead at the back of the shed. A large, metal dumpster stood beside a wooden structure housing a generator. A single light shone in the angled roof.
‘So no id
ea, sir, is what you had meant to say?’
‘Yes, sir,’ they both replied.
Peg Leg slapped his thigh, turned on his heel and paced toward the thin copse of trees. With a quick about turn, he faced his men. ‘Do you know why we’re here?’ He approached, leaning forward with his darting between each soldier.
Both men shook their heads, but the taller of the two, the driver saluted. ‘Sir, because this is the only place the child can be. Sir.’
‘Good work, soldier.’
‘Sir, why would the child be here, sir?’
‘Because this is the posh old club you two guessed, but this is a club for sicko pedo scum. And we hate sickos.’
‘Sir, yes, sir,’ the two men chimed. It wasn’t a show of respect, more a tactic to stop Peg Leg harping on about sickos.
He stalked forward and the two soldiers exited the jeep and stood to attention by their doors, watching the back of the shed.
‘But why do they need this child? Answer me this.’
Silence greeted his question. A shadow detached from the gloom and stopped as Peg Leg turned to face him. He saluted and stood at ease after Peg Leg returned his salute.
‘Report.’
‘Wide entrance at front, large side windows and rear entry. Generator is set to blow. Stun grenades and four pronged attack should secure the building.’
‘And the child.’
‘I have not identified the child you seek. The front room is full of bunk beds and children. There is a twenty five percent chance your child could be in there. The woman following hasn’t resurfaced from the building. I believe she’s in the last room to the right. There is a seventy five percent chance the child is also in that room.’
‘Street Boy and Tommy the Car?’
‘Problems there. Both are in the pub, but the natives are threatening them with guns. They are with a civilian who’s gone feral and they’ve got a casualty taking up space in their vehicle.’
Peg Leg turned to the pub and shook his head while making a clicking noise with his tongue. ‘How did those two get the better of me last Christmas,’ he muttered. He felt at his side, pressing against the scar tissue from a bullet wound. On cold, damp nights it ached and gnawed at his mind. ‘Today, that Tommy the Car will suffer for the bullets he put in my gut.’
Heroes Don't Travel Page 22