The Future of London Box Set

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The Future of London Box Set Page 49

by Mark Gillespie


  “Are you two okay?” Walker asked.

  Carol nodded. “We got lucky,” she said. “I think we’ve given them the slip.”

  Walker looked at Charlie. The boy was coming out of his daze a little. He was looking around at his surroundings, his eyes bright and curious. Walker recalled that Charlie still didn’t know exactly what the ‘bad men’ were doing out there on the streets tonight. He just knew that they were ‘bad men’ doing bad things.

  “You alright wee man?” Walker asked.

  Walker was expecting a nod or grunt at most. But to his surprise, Charlie spoke back to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, looking first at Carol, then at Walker and Barboza.

  Carol squeezed him tight, burying her face in his bowl-cut hair. Her eyes were closed but Walker knew that she was crying.

  “It’s okay,” Walker said. He kept his axe buried underneath the grass so that Charlie didn’t have to see it. “You wanted to see your mum. I get it. I waited nine years in the same house, waiting for my mum and dad to come back.”

  Charlie’s eyes were wide open. “Did you lose them?”

  Walker smiled. “Aye, I lost them.”

  The little boy stared at Walker.

  “Are they going to grab us?” he said. “Like they did with that man on the street?”

  “No,” Walker said. “But listen up. I’m going to tell you what to do just in case they do, alright? If somebody grabs you like they did that man on the street, you do whatever you have to do to get them off you, okay? Don’t be shy. Be nasty. Poke them in the eye, bite them – bite them as hard as you can okay? Get your teeth right into the skin and make them bleed. They deserve it ’cos they’re bad men Charlie. Aye? Do what you have to do.”

  Charlie nodded. “Do what you have to do,” he said.

  Walker winked at the boy. “Right.”

  Carol lifted her head up and smiled at Walker. To Walker’s surprise, she even smiled at Barboza too.

  Barboza returned the gesture, ending their feud silently.

  “My mum’s dead,” Charlie said, looking at Walker. “The rogue got her.”

  “Probably,” Walker said. “It makes sense, but you know what? You don’t have to believe it. I think my mum and dad are still out there somewhere.”

  Barboza reached over and gave Charlie a playful tap on the arm. She was about to say something but was cut off by a sudden noise.

  Voices. Footsteps.

  The Ghosts were coming back.

  Walker and the others dove back down into their hiding places. Nothing to worry about, Walker thought, immersing himself in the dry, dirty surroundings. The Ghosts were just passing through after an unsuccessful search elsewhere in Bunhill Fields. Now they were on their way back to the City Road entrance, having given up the chase. Soon they’d all be back in the pickup and Sprinter van. They’d drive the hell out of there and it would be over.

  They were getting closer. The voices, although muffled through the masks, were louder than ever.

  “Four of ’em,” a gruff voice said. “They’re still in ’ere. I know it.”

  “Split up,” another man’s voice said. “Look in those little square bits of grass over there, just off the path. Spread yourselves about and use the torches. They can’t hide from all of us.”

  Walker’s heart sank. He felt like screaming with fear and frustration.

  He lay there in the dirt, listening to several of them approaching the narrow pathway. Now they were walking alongside the stretch of grass where Walker and the others were hiding. They were on the path and it was too damn close. He looked up and saw a thin beam of torchlight moving back and forth amongst the scattering of headstones, just a short distance away.

  Walker didn’t dare breathe. He didn’t dare blink. He wished that he could bury himself deeper in the grass but there was only so far he could go without bumping into the original occupant of the gravesite.

  He heard two of them talking on the pathway. Somebody was shining a torch into the grass, searching both areas on either side of the concrete walkway. The light was coming closer.

  “They’re in ’ere somewhere,” a muffled voice said.

  Walker took slow, deep breaths. He fought the urge to panic, to get up and make a run for it. He turned to his left and saw the faint outline of Barboza, buried deep within the grass. But behind her, Walker saw something that almost made his heart stop.

  Carol was sitting up. And Charlie was sitting up with her. She hand her hands under his armpits, like she’d dragged him out of their hiding place.

  The light was closer still.

  Walker signalled towards her, screaming with his eyes, pleading with her to lie back down again. But Carol was looking straight through him. She just sat there, shaking her head back and forth like she’d reached her breaking point. Like she’d succumbed to the same panic that Walker had been fighting off.

  She looked at Charlie, her eyes all apologies.

  Torchlight landed on nearby headstones.

  Walker didn’t know what he was supposed to do. It was too late to rush over there and drag her down into the dirt against her will. Has she really lost hope? Did she love Charlie so much that she couldn’t bear the thought of what they’d do to him?

  Carol looked at Walker, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. She whispered the words – “I must save him.”

  Then she turned back to Charlie.

  Carol pulled the boy towards her – a fierce embrace that lasted a second or two. She then whispered something to him and began to crawl away from their hiding place on her hands and knees. Looking back at Charlie with a tortured smile, she encouraged him to do the same. Charlie turned back, looking at Walker and Barboza for guidance. Barboza knew better than to make any sudden movement, but Walker saw the horror in her eyes as she watched events unfolding.

  Carol reached over and lifted Charlie into her arms. With one last look at Walker and Barboza, she leapt to her feet and ran off into the night, carrying the bewildered boy through the darkness.

  A single beam of torchlight went after them.

  “There!” a man’s voice said. “I see one of ’em. She’s taking off!”

  There was a loud crunching noise. Heavy footsteps trampled through the dry grass, going after Carol and Charlie.

  Walker and Barboza kept still, lying down in the dirt. Walker listened to the frantic, gruesome breathing of the two men underneath the gas masks.

  Soon the footsteps and torchlight receded into the distance. Walker and Barboza sat upright at the same time. They looked at one another – Barboza looked like she was going to throw up. Walker felt the same.

  “What the fuck?” Barboza said. “Why did she do that?”

  “She got spooked,” Walker said, checking to see if the coast was clear.

  Before Barboza could say anything else, they heard a scream. It was nearby, somewhere within the burial grounds. It was a woman’s scream – a bloodcurdling shriek that made Walker jump out of his skin.

  “Charlie!” Carol yelled. She sounded a long way off now. Walker barely recognised her voice, so twisted and distorted with panic as it was.

  “Run Charlie!” Carol screamed.

  Chapter 16

  Barboza jerked forwards, like she was about to run after Carol and Charlie.

  To her credit, this was her first instinct – to play the part of the hero. But Walker knew that playing the hero meant losing. Carol had already told them that. It meant both of them ending up in the back of the Sprinter van, taped up and sitting alongside all the other fresh produce on its way to the farm.

  And he didn’t want that for either of them.

  When Barboza moved, Walker reached out and grabbed her by the forearm. He yanked her back down into a sitting position, ignoring the hurt and confusion in her dark brown eyes.

  When she didn’t resist, Walker guessed she understood why he was doing it. Anything was better than a kamikaze rescue mission.

  They heard Carol screami
ng again, a little further away this time. It sounded like they were taking her towards the City Road exit.

  “She’s fighting them,” Barboza said. “Oh fuck Walker. They’ve got Carol and Charlie. We can’t leave them. What are we going to do?”

  Walker didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t any clear-cut solution that was going to result in a happy ending for everyone. That much was clear. It all looked so easy in the movies, being a hero. But if he was to charge across Bunhill Fields gung-ho like a white knight he was certain that the bad guys weren’t going to roll over like they were following a script.

  But doing nothing wasn’t an option either. Sure, it was their best chance of staying alive. But how was Walker going to live with himself if he left Carol and Charlie to their fate? It was bad enough that he’d already left so many strangers to the same fate – the people in the restaurant, the woman and child on City Road. How could he do the same to Carol and Charlie?

  Walker looked back and forth, making sure there were no more Ghosts in the area. He got back to his feet, helping Barboza up at the same time.

  “I think they’re shipping out,” Walker said. “They’re taking them to the vans.”

  “We’ve got to do something Walker,” Barboza said.

  “I know,” he said. “Look let’s get down to the front, okay? Take a look before we do something stupid.”

  “Yeah.”

  They crept down towards the front gate, staying on the grass in order to avoid the main path. Whenever they heard anything they’d take cover behind the nearest tree and wait for about thirty seconds. Only when they were certain the coast was clear, did they come out and continue towards the gate.

  Walker could feel the sweat running down his back. Trudging through Bunhill Fields was like walking through the corridors of a stifling, claustrophobic nightmare.

  Up ahead, they saw the bright lights of the vehicles parked at the entrance of the graveyard. Walker thought he could see three sets of headlights this time – the pickup and the Sprinter van he knew about but the other one? Was it the Audi with the woman and child in the back?

  He thought about the tall Ghost, the one with the sword at his waist. Walker didn’t want to see him again.

  Staying off the path, they ducked behind the trunk of a large tree. Now they were just a short distance from the City Road exit, but still safely tucked out of sight.

  Walker looked down towards the gate. There were about ten to fifteen Ghosts down there.

  Carol was there too.

  One of the Ghosts – a thickset man with pale white skin and tribal tattoos plastered over his arms and chest – had his arm locked around Carol’s waist. He was pulling her towards the Sprinter van on the main road. Carol resisted, punching and kicking at his body and legs. The Ghost clamped a hand around her throat. As he squeezed, Carol gasped and closed her eyes. Her hands immediately went to her neck, trying to prise open the Ghost’s fingers.

  Walker felt sick to his stomach.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  “Where’s Charlie?” Barboza said. “I can’t see him.”

  Walker looked into the huddle of Ghosts gathered at the entrance. Most of the masked figures were standing on the sidelines, watching Carol as she was led towards the back of the van. Much to Walker’s dismay, the tall Ghost was there too. With the aid of torchlight and the car headlights coming into the graveyard from the road, Walker got a better look at the sword the tall Ghost was carrying. Walker was certain that he was looking at the graceful curved shape of a samurai sword.

  “See him?” Barboza asked.

  “I don’t see Charlie,” Walker said.

  “Where the hell is he?” Barboza said. “What happened to him?”

  They’d heard Carol yelling at Charlie to run. By the looks of it, that’s exactly what the boy had done and not only that, he’d given the Ghosts the slip too. At least that’s what they were hoping had happened. But how far could a little boy, alone and scared out his wits, go in this place?

  The pale Ghost had by now dragged Carol to the back of the Sprinter van. She didn’t stop fighting him but it was no use. He opened the door and Walker and Barboza watched as she was thrown inside. The Ghost slammed the van doors shut and walked back to the others.

  “Shit,” Barboza said. “She’s in the van. How do we help her?”

  But Walker didn’t answer. He was trying to listen in on a conversation that was taking place between the tall Ghost with the police badge, and one of the others. They were speaking just loud enough for Walker to overhear if he strained his ears.

  “The kid’s still in here Captain,” the other Ghost said. “And the other two, but they might be long gone by now. I think the boy’s close though. Want me to take another look?”

  The tall Ghost didn’t answer at first. He seemed to be looking over the shoulder of the speaker. Although Walker couldn’t see the man’s eyes behind the mask, he knew they were moving back and forth across the burial ground. For a second, the tall Ghost looked at the tree that was shielding Walker and Barboza.

  They both ducked their heads behind the trunk.

  Walker didn’t dare breathe. There was a moment’s silence that seemed to last forever. Then finally, Walker heard the tall Ghost replying to the other one.

  “We don’t have time to waste in here,” the Ghost said.

  Walker poked his head out from behind the tree again. The tall Ghost was no longer staring in their direction, thank God. He had his back turned to Walker and Barboza, and he was talking to his men, speaking in a loud, deep voice that commanded their attention.

  “Forget the other two,” he said. “We might stumble across them somewhere else. But the boy’s still in here and we’ll get him now. You lot ship out, I’ll grab him. I’ll put him in the boot and meet you at the next stop. Got it?”

  “You sure Captain?” the other Ghost said.

  The tall Ghost nodded. “You lot move on – go on, get out of here. We’ve got a lot of stops to make tonight.”

  The rest of the Ghosts did what they were told. They filed out of Bunhill Fields and hurried back towards the pickup and Sprinter van parked out front.

  “They’re taking Carol away,” Barboza said. She grabbed a hold of Walker’s arm. “Shit Walker, if we don’t do something now we’ve lost her for good. Are we going to help her or not?”

  Deep down, Walker knew the answer. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t heroic either.

  “What?” he said looking at Barboza. “You tell me what to do. What do you suggest? All my ideas for saving Carol end up with us getting thrown in the back of that van. Carol’s gone. You think she’d come after us? No, and she’d be right to stay put. What was it she told us earlier Barboza? Don’t try to be a hero. And what about Charlie? He’s alone in here somewhere and that big fucker with the sword is about to go looking for him.”

  Barboza’s brown eyes glistened in the darkness. Walker felt her pain, but he knew he was right. And she probably did too.

  “I know,” Walker said. “It sucks. I hate myself for saying it but the truth is we’ve lost Carol. But we can help Charlie. That’s what she’d want us to do.”

  Outside the gate, the pickup and the Sprinter van pulled away from the kerb. They took off down City Road, travelling south to the next destination.

  The Audi remained parked outside the gate. The tall Ghost was now standing alone near the stone pillars at the entrance. Walker and Barboza watched from afar as he shone a torch into Bunhill Fields. The narrow strip of white light went back and forth, returning briefly to the tree where Walker and Barboza were hiding. Fortunately they saw it coming and ducked out of sight in time.

  The torchlight lingered nearby for a second or two. Then it moved on.

  Walker then heard the sound of footsteps, crunching over the dry grass. Looking out, he saw the Ghost walking off towards his right, off the main path.

  “Are you ready?” Walker said. “We need to find Charlie before he does.”

&nbs
p; She nodded. “Ready?”

  They stepped out from behind the tree, cutting along the grass that led towards the main path. From there, they followed the Ghost’s route, moving deeper into the burial grounds. Deeper into the darkness.

  After that, it was a guessing game.

  They climbed over a short steel fence that led into a small plot of land, yet another one spilling over with ancient, broken headstones and long grass. They climbed over another fence, which brought them onto yet another path. They might as well have been walking through a labyrinth blindfolded.

  Walker looked back and forth for any sign of movement. He was listening for the slightest sound to alert them to the Ghost’s presence. But there was no sound, just an eerie silence permeating through the graveyard.

  After a while, Walker was about to suggest to Barboza that they turn around and retrace their steps. He thought it wise to go back to the gate, to make sure the Ghost hadn’t given them the slip. Just as he was about to say this, they heard a noise behind them, off the main path.

  Heavy footsteps. Somebody was running, and it sounded like they were going back towards the City Road exit.

  A child screamed.

  “Charlie!” Barboza yelled. She took off, running in the direction of the noise.

  Walker went after her. They were running through the dark graveyard, guided only by that lone scream and the sound of the tall Ghost thundering along the path. The Ghost must have known he was being followed. He must have waited for them to go past before trying to make a run for it.

  Walker and Barboza threw all caution to the wind. They ran as hard as they could and to hell with the risk of running into a trap, toppling over gravestones, or running face first into one of the trees. They couldn’t lose Charlie. To make matters worse, Walker had seen the tall Ghost running earlier and he knew how fast the man could move.

  Against all odds however, they were gaining on him. Perhaps Charlie was fighting back and making it difficult for the Ghost to run fast enough. Maybe the boy was heavier than he looked. Whatever it was, the footsteps up ahead were getting louder. Seconds later, Walker could see the freakishly tall Ghost running at full speed over a stretch of long grass. He was taking giant strides, with Charlie scooped under his arm like the boy was a folded up rug.

 

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