Corpse Road

by David J Gatward

  Harry raced through from the lounge to the kitchen, thought about heading upstairs, but he knew there was no point. Gary wasn’t there. Neither was Jen. He remembered then why Matt had been round the day before—to check up on Gary’s whereabouts that fateful Friday night. He ran back into the lounge.

  ‘About last Friday,’ Harry asked quickly, Mr Harker still standing over by the door. ‘You told my detective sergeant that Gary was here all evening.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I remember him visiting. How is he? Got my clock going for me again. Very kind. It stops rather a lot, you see. That one there. Only one I have. I do love the sound of it ticking on, you know.’

  ‘Are you sure Gary was with you all night?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’

  Jim was at the door, with Jadyn and Matt. ‘Managed to get in round the back, but there’s no one there.’

  ‘Mr Harker,’ Harry asked again, ‘are you sure Gary was with you the whole time?’

  ‘He came round late afternoon I think. He’s such a lovely lad, you know.’

  ‘And he was with you all evening?’

  ‘Well, I dozed off for a while, but he was here when I woke up. And I checked the time. He popped off to go to the pub then, you know, because it was late. Last orders he said. I’d have gone with him, but I was rather tired. I do like a pint now and again.’

  Harry snapped round to look at Matt. ‘Didn’t you say that this clock here had been running fast?’

  ‘Yes,’ Matt said. ‘By about three hours, I think.’

  ‘Three hours . . .’ Harry repeated, his voice quiet as he took a second to think. ‘Jim?’

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘How long would it take to get from here to that scrape up on the hill?’

  ‘Three-quarters of an hour max,’ Jim replied. ‘Quicker if you took the lane partway up over the moors, the one the rescue team used.’

  ‘Bastard . . .’ Harry hissed. ‘He changed the clock!’

  Realisation at what Harry had said, and what it implied, tumbled into the room.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Mr Harker said. ‘Is Gary in a bit of trouble? What that young man needs is a good woman, if you ask me.’

  Harry thanked Mr Harker for his time and went outside. ‘So, where the hell is he, then? Where has he taken Jen?’

  ‘When we were up on the hill, on Sunday,’ Jadyn said. ‘Remember you said how that scrape was all worn, like it had been used loads?’

  Harry turned to Jadyn. ‘It wasn’t freshly dug. Gary must’ve been going up there regularly.’

  ‘So maybe he’s there again,’ Jadyn suggested. ‘Maybe that’s where he likes to go to . . .’

  The police constable’s voice faded.

  ‘Doesn’t explain the other killing though,’ Matt said.

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ said Harry. ‘But right now, it’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘We’ll take the track up to the top,’ Jim said, jumping in.

  Harry followed suit, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘What do we do if he’s not there?’ Jim asked, starting the engine.

  ‘Just hope that he is, Jim,’ Harry said. ‘Just hope that he is. Now move it!’

  Bright light tore through into Jen’s brain as her blindfold was pulled up and off. The light was painful, a boxing glove pin cushion to the face. Above her, she saw Gary. In his right hand was his phone, which he was pointing down at her. And he was talking, not to her, Jen realised, but to the phone, narrating what he was doing. His left hand was hanging loose by his side and held casually in its grip was a pistol.

  ‘. . . just another Stacy, just like all the others. Sad, I know, right? But that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? The world is full of them, these Stacys and their Chads, all hanging out together, rejecting us, pushing us to one side. But no more! It stops now because we’re rising up! The rebellion is here! It is HERE!’

  Gary laughed then and turned his gaze from his phone down to Jen and pointed at her with the barrel of the pistol. ‘I hope you’re not too comfortable down there, Stacy. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Jen replied. ‘Stacy? That’s not my name! It wasn’t Kirsty’s name! Why did you kill her, Gary? What the hell do you want? WHAT? And where the hell did you get a pistol?’

  Pain lanced through Jen as something slammed into her face, just below her eye, the searing sting of it lighting her head with bright lights and fury.

  ‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’ Gary said. ‘I’ve only shot you twice, but I’ll bet you don’t want me to do it again, do you?’

  ‘You shot me?’

  Gary held the pistol up with obvious pride. ‘I’m afraid it only shoots BBs, but it still looks cool, don’t you think? It’s Adam’s, if you’re wondering. You need a licence, you see, and I don’t have one. So I took a couple of the ones he never uses and, well, you know, customised them a bit.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ Jen said.

  ‘They’re more powerful,’ continued Gary. ‘Illegal, now, actually. Had to be done, though. Improved range, that kind of thing. I’ll be able to hunt more now that I’ve tested it all. Once I’m past what I have planned for you.’

  Gary turned away from Jen and was back to talking into his phone. ‘I’ve not got long now, need to wrap this up pretty soon. But this won’t be my last video. No way! There’s going to be more! Yeah, you heard that right! I’m not going out in a blaze of glory because I’ve got work to do and a life to live! No point doing this if I don’t get to enjoy what is rightly mine, right? And more of these Stacys and Chads are gonna fall because of me! And they need to, to make the world sit up and take notice of us!’

  ‘Shut up, Gary! Shut UP!’ Jen screamed, her voice breaking and cracking with every word. Her face was sore from the impact of the two BBs Gary had shot at her. ‘Just shut up and LET ME GO! Untie me, you mad bastard! Untie me!’

  Jen looked around then and recognised where she was, the Corpse Road, up above Gunnerside, the place where Kirsty had been murdered. Then Jen remembered the BBs that the SOC team had found.

  Gary crouched down, the movement so fast and cat-like that Jen flinched.

  ‘It’s easy for people like you,’ he said, his hand reaching out, still holding the pistol, to stroke Jen’s face gently. ‘You don’t know the meaning of loneliness, of rejection. You never give a thought to people like me. But you will now. And so will everyone else!’

  Jen pulled away from Gary’s hand, his skin horribly warm against her cheek, the pain from the BBs easing just a little.

  ‘Loneliness?’ she said. ‘Is that what this is about? Seriously? That’s why you’ve tied me up and shot me with your toy gun?’

  ‘It’s not a toy!’

  ‘It shoots plastic BBs, Gary,’ Jen said. ‘It’s absolutely a toy.’

  Gary clenched his jaw, his lips thin, then cracked Jen hard on the top of her head with the pistol’s barrel.

  ‘Does that feel like a toy to you? Does it? No, it doesn’t! So shut up!’

  Jen’s eyes watered with the pain and she decided to stay quiet for a moment, to gather her thoughts, work out if there was any way at all of getting out of this.

  ‘I’m a virgin, you know,’ Gary said, changing the subject on a pin. ‘Not like my brother, Mister Outdoors, with his perfect everything. I’ve had to live with that, have it rubbed in my face, through school, through university, my big brother with all his looks and his girls. And me, with what I’ve got.’

  ‘You’re not making sense,’ Jen said. ‘Can you not hear yourself? It’s insane!’

  ‘I’m making perfect sense!’ Gary howled back at Jen, spit flying from his mouth with the rage which had suddenly taken hold of him. ‘Can you imagine it? A virgin at my age! Who goes to uni and doesn’t get laid? Who, Stacy? Nobody, that’s who. And that’s what you and all the other Stacys and Chads think I am, isn’t it? A nobody? Well, I’m not! And I’ve proved it!’

  Jen wan
ted to say so much right then, but she had to get a hold of herself, work out a way to get Gary onside, to talk him down. She had to. Because if what he had done to Kirsty was anything to go by, then it was pretty clear where this was leading.

  ‘But you’re not alone,’ Jen said. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin! That’s not something you just give away, you know? It’s precious!’ She was struggling for words, struggling to sound sincere. ‘You have to look after it. Give it to someone who deserves it. Deserves you.’

  Jen didn’t really know what she was saying. She was just talking, saying anything to keep Gary as far away as possible from whatever the end game was.

  Gary shook his head in clear disbelief, turning away from Jen, scratching his head with the end of the pistol’s barrel.

  ‘Can you hear yourself?’ he said, turning back. ‘It’s all so easy for you to say, though, isn’t it? You’re not the one who has spent so long being mocked, being ignored, being rejected and . . . and living with your unfulfilled desires!’

  ‘Everyone gets rejected, Gary!’ Jen said, unable to stop herself raising her voice. ‘Everyone gets lonely. That’s just life. It’s normal!’

  Gary was back down at Jen’s side again and she saw a wildness in his eyes then, almost as though she could hear the faint sound of the locks binding him to what sanity he had left slowly giving way and snapping in two.

  ‘Girls gave their affection, their sex, their love, their touch, and their everything to other men, to Chads, but never to me. Never to me! And it’s not fair! Do you think I choose to be celibate? Do you really think I go about life like this, no sex at all, not a goddamn thing, because I want to? Well, you’re wrong, Stacy! This is involuntary, all of it, and it’s because of you and everyone like you! It’s your fault!’

  Despite where she was and what was happening, Jen nearly laughed. What the hell had happened to turn him into whatever this was in front of her now? She couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom the kind of crazy that had so obviously twisted Gary up and sent him down such a dark, terrible road. And what the hell was all that stuff about celibacy? Did he really think he was entitled to sex? That was . . . well, it was crazy! It was the kind of insanity you only ever heard about on the news!

  And then Jen realised exactly what she was dealing with.

  ‘Jesus . . .’

  ‘What about him?’ Gary asked suddenly. ‘He’s not listening, by the way. I know. I’ve asked for his help. And he’s never given it. And you know why? Because I bet he never felt like this. So he couldn’t help, could he? Why else did Mary hang around with him, hm? Even the holy Son of God got some, but me? Nothing! Not a goddamn thing! And it’s not fair! It’s NOT FAIR!’

  ‘You’re an incel,’ Jen said, snapping back at Gary, her only plan now to keep him talking, to give her time to think of something, perhaps enough time for someone to come along the Corpse Road, a walker, a runner, a farmer. ‘That’s what all this is, isn’t it? You’re like those other sad bastards who think they’re entitled to sex, to relationships, and go on about how it’s everyone else’s fault but theirs!’

  ‘I’m not a bad person,’ Gary said. ‘I’m really not. But no one has ever been able to find that out because they’ve never given me a chance. You didn’t, did you?’

  ‘And that’s why we’re here now, is it?’ Jen asked. ‘Why you killed Kirsty? And you killed her husband as well, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Gary said. Then, as he spoke, it was as though he was reliving what had happened, pacing out his actions, miming what he had done. ‘Kirsty was my first! She was so easy to catch. Found her on Facebook. Went fishing and there she was. Such an easy catch!’ He put a finger in his mouth and pulled at his cheek like a hook was caught in it. ‘So entitled, so rich, so perfect! So easy. I was only going to scare her, you know? That was the plan. Go up there, spy on her, use the rifle to shoot at her, really terrify her! But then, when I was there, in the moment, I saw her for what she was. A Stacy. So, I had to do it, don’t you see that? I had to make an example of her! To show the world that I, and everyone like me, that we won’t take it anymore! We won’t be ignored! We deserve what’s rightfully ours as much as you do!’

  As Gary raged on, half talking to her, half to his phone, Jen searched deep down for some grain of hope, for some idea, some solution, that would get her out of the shit she was in now. But she couldn’t find anything. Then she thought about the rest of the team. They knew where she had headed off to, but that wasn’t where she was now. They knew that she was with Gary, but only she knew what Gary was! They had no idea, no idea at all! And hadn’t Harry brought in Adam, Gary’s brother? They had the wrong man! They were interviewing the wrong bloody man!

  Gary had stopped talking.

  ‘You’ve . . . you’ve made your point,’ Jen said. ‘People will listen. I’m sure they will. I’ll tell them. I’ll . . . I’ll help you.’

  Gary’s lips curled into a smile cold and hard.

  ‘Yes, I know you will,’ he said and pulled out a knife.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Harry braced himself as Jim swung the patrol car off the main road and onto a gravel track, which led up to the moors above Gunnerside. Ahead, Matt was kicking up grit and dust, the car dancing along the track.

  ‘She has to be up here, right?’ Jim asked, his eyes dead ahead. ‘She has to be!’

  ‘It’s our best guess,’ Harry said, ‘and right now it’s all we’ve got.’ He remembered something Jim had been saying before they’d left the community centre. ‘Stacy and Chad, then? You were going to say something about those names, just before we left. What was it?’

  Jim hooked the car round a sharp bend, down a dip, and then back up the other side.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

  ‘Try me,’ Harry said.

  ‘You’ve heard of incels, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Harry said. ‘But not much.’

  ‘Basically, they’re men who blame women for the fact that they don’t have sex.’

  ‘Involuntary celibates,’ Harry said.

  ‘Yeah, that’s them. Proper crazy they are, like. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff they believe. They seem to think they have a right to have sex and they blame Stacys and Chads for the fact that they’re not getting any.’

  ‘And the Stacys and Chads are?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Everyone else, I guess,’ Jim said. ‘But it’s generally attractive, successful people. Incels see themselves as genetically disadvantaged. It’s pretty messed up stuff.’

  Another corner came up and the rear of the car slid out, but Jim had it controlled and used the whip of the car’s tail to help them onwards after Matt.

  ‘I’ve a feeling my face means I’m no way a Chad,’ Harry said. ‘Sounds like he carved Stacy and Chad onto the faces of his victims because he was making an example of them.’

  ‘I guess,’ Jim said.

  Ahead, Matt’s car skidded to a halt. Jim threw his car in alongside. Harry jumped out.

  ‘Where’s the Corpse Road?’ he asked. ‘How the hell do we get to where we were on Sunday? To that bloody scrape the mad bastard carved out.’

  Matt pointed ahead. ‘Just up that way.’

  ‘How far?’

  ‘Half a kilometre, at a guess,’ Matt replied.

  ‘Then shift it!’ Harry roared, and he didn’t even wait for the others as he set off at a pace which, just a few months ago, would have had him upchucking his guts in seconds.

  Jen was on her side, her whole weight on her right hand, her hip. Her eyes were on the knife in Gary’s hand. The pain coursing through her body from how she was lying didn’t matter. It had gone, faded into nothing when faced with the knife. That was what mattered now—the knife. Only the knife. Just that awful blade in front of her, the glint of it, the cold effectiveness of the sweep of the dagger’s edge down to its deadly point.

  ‘You stay away from me!’ she screamed, squirming on the gr
ound. ‘Stay the hell away!’

  Gary smiled, moved closer, his footsteps small and slow. ‘You can’t escape,’ he said, lifting his phone to film her once more, his pistol stowed down the front of his jeans. ‘This has to happen now, because of what you did.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything!’ Jen yelled back. ‘You’re insane!’

  ‘Exactly, you didn’t do anything,’ Gary said. ‘But if you had done something, if you’d just come with me in the car, got to know me, then we wouldn’t be here now, would we? Surely you can see that? So, I have to punish you. I have to punish all of you. Every Stacy. Every Chad.’

  Jen didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to show any weakness, but she could help herself. Tears were flowing now, racing down her face.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Just . . . just don’t do it, Gary. You don’t have to.’

  ‘I do have to,’ Gary said, then stepped forward.

  In desperation, Jen twisted her body violently, swinging her legs out as hard as she could to keep Gary away, her voice crying out with this last chance attempt at staying alive. They connected and Gary, taken by surprise at the sudden movement, tripped over his own feet.

  ‘Bitch!’

  Gary fell forward, landing hard on top of Jen, the weight of his body winding her, his phone and knife knocked from his hands.

  ‘You’re going to pay for that,’ Gary hissed, struggling to get up from Jen as she wriggled beneath him. Then, realising his face was so close, she leaned in and bit down hard.

  Gary roared and screamed at the same time, rage and pain and shock twisting his cry into a hyena’s howl.

  Gary was on all fours now, but Jen was holding on, her teeth sinking deeper, and then warm liquid was in her mouth and she knew it was his blood.

  Gary tried to shake her off, then back-handed her so hard that her skull ricocheted off the stone beneath her. But the damage had been done and Gary lifted a hand to his face, felt the wetness seeping out of it, then the stinging pain of the wound as his fingers poked it.

  Jen was dazed, her mouth filled with the foul taste of hot iron. Some of the blood was in her eyes, mixing with her tears, blinding her. She tried to crawl away from where she could hear Gary crying out, but she could barely move now. The sudden movements of the last minute, the impact of Gary’s body, the slap, all of it was piling in on her now, freezing her muscles solid.