by Chris Ewan
‘And how do we do that?’ I asked.
He smiled down at me, like he was pleased by my response. He drew a small circle in the air with the bat. ‘You tell me the code.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘The code on the flash stick. The one your sister left for you. The one you found this morning.’
‘My God,’ Rebecca said. ‘You can’t access the memory stick.’ She poked her finger towards Anderson. ‘It must be password-protected. And that’s your concern. That’s what Erik is worried about. Whatever is on that memory stick can harm him in some way.’
‘Hmm,’ Anderson said. ‘Interesting again. Like I care.’ He focused hard on me, watching me from over the end of the bat. ‘Now, give me the code.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘For Rob,’ he said. ‘Nine A one three D two one A.’
‘If there’s a password, that’s it,’ I said.
‘No, that’s not it. It’s a code for something else. It means something to you.’
I shook my head. ‘It means nothing to me.’
‘You’re lying. Tell me what it means.’
‘I don’t –’
I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Anderson lunged and swung a fast backhand into the centre of my chest. The bat made a hollow thunk against my battered ribcage, like he’d struck a waffle ball. It felt a lot more painful. My ribs were still tender and the blow exploded through my solar plexus. I groaned and crumpled and Anderson barked with laughter, then stepped around behind me and jabbed the rounded end of the bat into my busted shoulder. I shrieked and rocked back, but there wasn’t enough air in my lungs and the sound came out as a gargled croak. The pain from the two blows merged somewhere in the middle of my torso, roiling around inside. I knew the next breath I took was going to hurt like crazy. It didn’t disappoint.
So much for prolonging things. Suddenly, I wasn’t half as keen on the idea.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Rebecca move towards me. Anderson warned her off with a forehand swipe of the bat. She danced backwards, sucking in her stomach, and the blow swished through the air.
Anderson conjured a smug smile and lifted my chin with the end of his bat. Pain rippled through the muscles of my shoulder. He leaned down to my face and pressed the bat hard against my throat, constricting my airway.
‘You have ten minutes,’ he said, and winked at me. ‘Then I want the code. I’ll break as many bones as it takes until you give me the right answer. Just ask your friend here. She can tell you how much I hate beating on people. And, hey, I really don’t want to have to smash your other shoulder, right?’
He smiled like the idea couldn’t have appealed to him more. Then he took a series of backwards steps, maintaining eye contact all the way to the door. He slammed it behind him and locked us alone in the garage once more.
Chapter Forty-seven
‘Are you OK?’ Rebecca asked.
‘I’ll live.’
She went to place a hand on my shoulder, then thought better of it. ‘The guy’s a sadist.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘That’s why he loves using the bat so much. He can dish out pain in instalments. Gauge its effects. It’s not so easy for him to do that with the gun.’
I tried to stand but the pain from my shoulder blade was excruciating. It felt like someone had opened a zip that ran lengthways down my back, peeled apart the skin, separated the flesh, and stuck a bunch of razor blades inside. I grunted and rocked forwards on to my good arm, head down, spitting on to the concrete floor. I’d never known pain like it. Every fractional movement sent waves of agony through me.
‘Do you know the code?’ Rebecca asked me, lowering her voice. ‘If you know it, you should tell him. Before he leaves you in pieces.’
‘And then what?’ I whispered. ‘If I tell him what it means, we’re no use to them any more.’
‘So you do know it?’
I glanced towards the door. I was concerned that Anderson might be listening. I didn’t want him to hear us. ‘Maybe. I’m not sure. It’d be a guess.’
‘A guess?’
‘An educated one. But I can’t tell him what he wants to know without getting someone else involved. And it still won’t help us.’
‘It might if it’s all he needs. Erik has his private jet. They can leave the island whenever they choose. They might leave as soon as you give them the password.’
I shook my head. ‘You said it yourself. He’s a sadist. And look at Teare. Look at what happened to her.’
‘That wasn’t Anderson. I was with them the entire night.’
‘But it shows how high the stakes are, doesn’t it? The lengths people are prepared to go to. And there’s something else.’ I stared hard at her, breathing fast against the pain, and lowered my voice a fraction more. ‘Suppose you’re right. Suppose Laura really is alive. We might be the only ones who can help her. She left that code for me, not Anderson. She did it for a reason. It has to be important.’
Rebecca studied me for a moment. Her pupils danced behind her swollen eyes. Her skin was bunched up loosely above the bridge of her nose. I could see a pale glint of bone amid the dried blood and the yellow-green bruising.
‘So what do you suggest?’ she hissed.
‘The boiler,’ I said, and motioned to it with my eyes. ‘If we take the cover off, I can undo the safety valve. That’ll release some oil. We can cause an explosion.’
She backed off. ‘How big an explosion?’
‘Big.’
She shook her head. ‘Bad idea. We’re in a confined space. Nowhere to shelter. It puts us in as much danger as them.’
‘We’re in danger already. How much worse can it get?’
She shook her head some more. ‘To even have a chance with something like that, you’d need to time it exactly. You’d need to lure Anderson in front of the thing and then ignite it. And you’d still be endangering us.’
‘What other choice do we have?’
‘The wrench,’ Rebecca murmured. ‘Give it to me.’
‘Easier if you take it yourself.’
Rebecca reached down and eased a hand under my hoodie. Her forearm snaked up over my abdomen, until all I could see was her elbow.
‘Careful,’ I said.
‘Got it.’ She withdrew the wrench from my sling in one fluid movement. ‘It’s solid.’ She slapped it against her palm.
It was one hell of an old thing, probably a tool I’d inherited from Dad. The metal was oxidised and dulled down to matt brown. It weighed a couple of kilos, at least, and most of the weight was in the U-shaped head.
‘But it’s short.’ She rolled out her bottom lip. ‘Anderson’s bat makes his reach much longer.’
‘So I’ll surprise him. I’ll stand behind the door and I’ll hit him when he comes in.’
‘Nuh-uh. I’ll hit him.’
I went to argue, but Rebecca got to her feet and stepped beyond my reach. She held the wrench in her right hand, experimenting with a few practice swings.
She said, ‘We get one shot at this. And we have to get it right. We have to disable him in one move. You’re not up to it. You can’t even stand.’
‘I’ll make myself.’
‘And your reach is all wrong. If you hide behind the door, you need to swing from your left side. But you can’t with your arm in a sling. I don’t think you could even hold this wrench, let alone hit him with it.’
‘So I’ll hold it in my right hand. I’ll step out and I’ll catch him unawares. The surprise gives me time.’
‘Not enough.’ She shook her head. ‘And I’ve had training in this sort of situation. Chances are you’ll want to hit him hard enough to stun him, but not so hard that you do real damage. I’m different. We can’t afford to go easy on him, and I won’t. Besides, I want payback.’
I considered her face, the blood and the bruising and the swelling. I ran through everything she’d just said. I would have liked to argue with h
er some more, but I already knew she was right. Anderson could come through the door at any moment, and I was still on my knees.
‘What about Lukas? He has the gun.’
‘He didn’t look like he wanted to use it.’
‘If it comes down to us against him, I think he will.’
‘Then as soon as I’ve hit Anderson, I’ll shut the door. We’ll have a hostage. He’ll have to back down.’
‘You think?’
‘Trust me. I know what I’m doing.’
*
Lukas wasn’t making any progress. The password variations he’d tried had all resulted in the same failure. If he’d had more time, he might have downloaded a decoder engine from the web. But he doubted a simple programme would be good enough, so what was the point?
Anderson was standing next to the door into the garage, pressing his ear against the wood. He was holding the baseball bat crossways in front of him, his knuckles bunched around the shaft, twisting it between his hands like he was wringing water from a towel. The lacquered timber creaked against his palms.
‘Time’s nearly up,’ Anderson said, stepping away from the door. ‘You getting anywhere?’
‘I need the code.’
‘Then the guy’s going to have to give it to us.’
Anderson tossed the baseball bat in the air, twirling it around a half-turn and catching it one-handed, then repeating the process. He was no majorette. The wood slapped loudly against his palm. But at least it was a world away from the noise of the bat striking the woman’s face.
‘Listen up,’ he said. He caught the bat and extended it towards Lukas, squinting along its length like a swordsman sizing up an opponent. ‘Our problem is, they’re expecting me. I couldn’t hear much of what they were saying, but it sounds like one of them is going to attack me from behind the door.’ He lowered the bat and jerked his thumb at his chest. ‘That’s what I’d do if I was them.’
Lukas nodded. As if the suggestion made sense. As if that was what he’d do, too. But in his heart he knew it was a lie. Lukas wasn’t the type to fight back. If he was in their shoes, he’d have given the code up by now.
‘There are ways to counter the move. Best way is to come in via another route. That’s not an option here. So we’re going to go with the next best alternative. I’m going to unlock the door and then I’m going to kick it hard. If one of them is behind it, they’ll be hurt. It could be I can keep them pressed there. If I can’t, they’ll be stunned and I can follow up with the bat.’ He cocked his wrists and twisted at the waist, practising his swing. ‘But basically, it’s the same procedure as before. I want you to cover me with the gun again.’
Anderson gathered the pistol from the kitchen table. He lifted it by the barrel, holding the butt out to Lukas, the bat in his other hand. ‘You’re confident with how this works, right? If they come at me this time, we don’t want any mistakes. You looked a little shaky before.’
He wasn’t confident. Not really. ‘Pieter showed me.’
‘Good. I want you to stand behind me, like last time. But leave a little more room so’s I can swing the bat. If they try anything, if they come at me at all, I want you to fire into the ceiling. One round. That should be enough to stop them. After that, use your judgement.’
Your judgement. Lukas didn’t like the idea. He didn’t want the gun in the first place. Most especially, he didn’t want to find himself shooting if there was a chance he might hit Anderson.
‘Why don’t you take the gun?’ he asked.
‘Because the bat is better. I don’t want them dead. Not yet. Not until they give us the code. And it’s not like they have a weapon. You checked them, remember?’
Anderson narrowed his eyes. Prodded the pistol towards him. Lukas felt himself reach out and close wet fingers around the stippled grip.
‘We clear?’ Anderson asked.
He placed his hands on Lukas and shifted him into position once more. He had him turn sideways on, left foot in front of the right, arms in the air parallel with his chin. Exactly like Pieter had taught him.
‘Relax,’ Anderson said, flicking the safety off. ‘You’re insurance, that’s all. This is gonna be easy. And once we have the code, we’re golden. Mr Zeeger will be one very happy man.’
Anderson patted Lukas on the cheek, then turned and faced the door. He circled his head on his shoulders. Cleared his throat. Then he hoisted the bat in the air and reached for the key in the lock.
Chapter Forty-eight
On her way across the room, I watched Rebecca revise her plan. First, she moved to her right, ready to flatten herself against the wall on the hinge side of the door. Then she paused and pressed the tip of the wrench against her chin, and wavered for a moment considering the set-up. She turned and contemplated the wooden shelving units. The units were constructed from white laminate and they were square and empty. They ran along the entire length of the wall from the garage door to the kitchen doorway, next to where the light cord was hanging. They extended to within about a foot of the ceiling.
Rebecca stepped forwards and began scaling the shelving unit, close to the door. The shelves formed a makeshift stepladder and she climbed until her feet were on the second shelf from the top. She ducked her head and tried to hitch her left leg up and fit herself into the space beneath the ceiling. She couldn’t do it. The unit was too narrow and the space was too cramped. She backed up and climbed down a little, so that her left foot was on the second highest shelf and her right foot was on the third highest. She braced her left arm on top of the unit and reached out with the wrench in her right hand. She was perfectly positioned to swing down and strike someone on the head.
Two problems with that. One, her position was precarious, and I wasn’t sure how long she could hold the pose. And two, anyone coming through the door had a good chance of seeing her before she could hit them. It was a major downside, which is why I’d suggested hiding behind the door in the first place. But I could understand her concern. If Anderson was alert to the danger, he could kick the door open and crush her behind it. And anyway, Rebecca wasn’t finished just yet. She reached out and carefully plucked the light cord downwards, so that the garage fell into full darkness with just the barest click.
At first, the blackness was absolute. All I could see was the red light on the front of the boiler and the band of daylight beneath the garage door. Then I began to make out shapes and angles. The rough outline of the shelves materialised from the gloom. Rebecca’s leather jacket was a more lustrous black than the rest of the room, and it was visible as a deeper, liquid shade. And I could see her pale face, pressed against the side of the unit, and the grey patches of her hands. But the wrench was impossible to pick out.
I knew that when Anderson opened the door, there’d be some light spill from the kitchen. But I also knew from experience that the kitchen was far from bright and airy, and besides, the real purpose of the exercise was surprise. He wouldn’t be expecting darkness. He wouldn’t expect Rebecca to be halfway up the wall. I thought it was just about the best chance we had, short of me recovering in time to contribute something.
I couldn’t see that happening. The darkness and the silence did very little to distract me from the suffering I was going through. I would have liked to duck behind the door and double up our attack, but Rebecca was right, it was beyond me.
But I still wanted to stand.
It seemed to me I had a couple of options. I could take it slow and easy, or fast and hard. Slow and easy was no guarantee of success. And it wouldn’t get me out of the firing line in a hurry if Lukas or Anderson decided to use the gun. Fast and hard was the right way to go.
I went for it on an out-breath. It wouldn’t have been my normal approach. In a scenario where I could make as much noise as I liked, I’d have sucked in a deep lungful of air, gritted my teeth, and then yowled and cursed my way upright. Moving on an out-breath meant I wouldn’t have so much oxygen to complain with.
Or so I hoped.
<
br /> I complained in my head, believe me. I swore and I screamed and I yelled. But the only sound I made was a strained grunt. I pushed up in one fluid movement. Fast and hard. Painful as hell. I was up before the full force of the pain hit me. And then I staggered backwards and curled up and straightened instantly, and bit my tongue and stamped my foot and tried my hardest to keep things in focus.
If the room hadn’t already been dark, I have a feeling it would have turned a lot blacker. I’m pretty sure I was close to passing out. But I stayed on my feet and I fixed my jaw and endured the discomfort until I realised it couldn’t get any worse.
I was up. I was breathing.
All we needed now was for Anderson to make his move.
He made it right away.
I was still adjusting my feet beneath me and catching my breath when the key turned in the lock and the door handle squeaked and there was a sudden hard slam. Before I knew it the door had bounced off the wall and was starting to sway back and Anderson had surged into the room.
He did a few things wrong. First, he was anticipating that there’d be someone behind the door, so he instinctively turned his body to his left, ready to confront the threat. But the threat wasn’t in front of him, it was behind him. He had to raise his arm to protect himself from the door blasting back into his face, and that cost him time and momentum. He couldn’t lash out with his baseball bat while he was blocking the door. And he hadn’t anticipated the darkness. His chin jutted forwards as he peered into the gloom.
The forward motion of his chin coincided with Rebecca’s arm completing the fast arc it had been swinging through. The moment the door had opened, I’d seen in the ambient light from the kitchen how her arm had pivoted back behind her shoulder, how the mass of the wrench had extended her wrist, how her wrist had then absorbed the force and whipped back against it, how the sudden thrust had reversed the direction of her arm, how the wrench had swung forward like a pendulum, how her face had tightened, teeth bared, with the exertion of the move.