‘The lying bastards,’ he muttered, when he saw the exact time the cameras had gone haywire.
He sighed as he threw the papers into a bin beside the bench. Tony knew all along that there was no CCTV of him, because the time they had all gone crazy was the same time as he had hit the guy in the bookshop. He’d wanted me out of the flat all along.
He must have been watching everything that happened, and come up with a story to get me out. Who the hell had he been expecting?
Frustrated and angry, Mike rose off the bench, ready this time to get everything out of Tony-no matter what it took.
He slipped quickly through a patch of trees towards the entrance of the park. Just as he was about to leave the tree cover, he spotted an old lady in a red coat. For a moment he stopped, then quickly moved further back.
‘Well, talk about flaming coincidence. It’s just gotta be the bird lady,' he muttered.
Best keep hidden, he thought, slipping further back, enough so that he could see and not be seen.
This is a good way from the police station, he thought, then realised that he didn’t actually have a clue where she lived. Maybe she was heading to a tube station, to get into the heart of the city.
The path she was walking on was at least fifty yards away from where Mike was hiding, across a well trimmed grass area with more trees on the other side, which were much closer to the path. She’d only gone a few more steps when three youths, one black, the other two white, all wearing hoodie’s covering their heads, slipped out from behind the trees.
They followed her for ten yards or so. It was clear what their intentions were. Then, for one split second, she paused, before spinning round and facing them. By now Mike was halfway across the grass and pulling his gun. He had no intention of using it, because there were no bullets in, just something to scare them off with, save using his fists on the pathetic scum.
Before he reached her, two were lying flat on their backs and the other was running for the trees.
‘What the----?’ Mike would have sworn that an old woman would never have been able to do what she did. Tucking his gun away, he said, ‘You all right?’
Before answering, she kicked the nearest youth and said, ’On your way, scumbag.’ Both boys jumped up, one nursing his jaw, the other favouring his right shin and limping, quickly they followed the path their friend had taken.
Unbelievable, Mike was thinking, as she turned to him and said, ‘Nothing to worry about, Durham lad.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The dawn light crept slowly into the hospital room. Danny sat staring into space. He hadn’t moved from his chair since he got here. The machines that Evan was wired up to had constantly bleeped their way to morning. He sighed. He didn’t know what was hurting the most, his head or his heart. He felt like screaming, the bleeping sound was more annoying than fingernails scraping on glass. He felt that all he had seen for days had been prison cells and hospitals.
Then he felt lousy for even feeling lousy. Nothing he had gone through could compete with what Evan was suffering, and would probably go on suffering.
He looked across at his friend, probably the only friend he had in the whole world right now. He was in a sort of cage, with the blankets lifted off his burned skin, which was more than 80% of his body. They said the next twenty-four hours would tell if he lived or died.
Danny was sure he’d heard one of the nurses whisper to the other that it would be kinder if he died.
Danny shivered. No way!
‘Not Evan an’ all,’ he muttered, remembering them huddled by the doorway a few hours ago.
He’d wanted to yell at them, scream, rant and rave at the heavens, but instead he’d leaned over the bed, and whispered, ‘You’ll pull through, mate. I know you will.’
Now he wished he could touch him, to let him know that he was there for him. Reassure him that everything would be all right. But there was nowhere that wasn’t burned apart from his back.
He needed to let him know that he would always be there for him, no matter what. It didn’t matter what he looked like now, they could do marvels with plastic surgery these days.
‘You’ll be all right, Evan,’ he said, remembering from somewhere that people in comas could sometimes still hear you. ’Don’t worry, mate. I’ll be here for you. We’ll get through this together, mate.’ He patted the side of the bed. He couldn’t imagine life without Evan. They had been friends for so long, closer than a lot of brothers he knew.
His face was a few inches from Evan’s when the machine flatlined. Jumping back in shock, Danny stared for a moment - then panic set in and he ran to the door. Before he reached it, the doctors and nurses were running in and pushing him out of the way.
Horrified, Danny stood and watched them. All of them donned special gloves, then went to work to resuscitate him. Danny cringed when they lifted the paddles off Evan’s chest the first time, and scraps of thin skin were curled around them.
They tried again, and again to revive him, but there was no response. Evan wasn’t there any more.
Evan’s parents had gone out half an hour earlier for tea. They arrived back as the team were shaking their heads and switching his life support off. Evan’s mother collapsed onto the floor.
Danny couldn’t take his eyes off Evan.
How is it possible? he wondered, shaking his head in denial.
How can someone be a living, breathing human being one minute and not the next?
How?
Slowly, a broken man, he turned and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Waking up, Smiler stretched - before quickly sitting up, a look of pure horror on his face.
His link to Mike had faded overnight, as if a strong rod of iron had become mist that could barely be seen.
Throwing the quilt back, he jumped out of bed. ‘Gotta go, gotta find Rita, she’ll know what’s going on and why I can't find Mike,’ he muttered.
He dressed quickly, his grey track suit with a new red t-shirt. He still had not got over the luxury of clean clothes every day. His skin revelled in the feel of the soft material.
Downstairs, everything was back in order. They had all worked for hours last night, he, Aunt May, Brother David, Jill and her girls. Aunt May had just put the phone down, and was sitting with an angry look on her face. There was no sign of Brother David. As Tiny was also missing, Smiler guessed that they were out walking.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked Aunt May.
‘They’ve let him go.’
Smiler frowned. ‘Who?’
‘The bloody swine from the mainland, him who’s been filling in at the shop. The bloody swine who trashed the place. Half an hour they had him for last night, that’s all, bloody half an hour.’
Smiler pulled a face. He wasn’t surprised. From what he had learned, the Families could do anything they wanted. He didn’t know what to say to her, except, ’Well, he better not still be at the castle.’
‘No. Kristina said he was picked up from the station and taken straight to Newcastle Airport.’
‘Did the coppers say who he was? Does the regular guy really know him?’
Aunt May frowned. ‘No, some sort of bloody agency worker. The real shop owner's a good guy, he’ll not have known anything about this. But I have an idea.’
This flummoxed Smiler. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Never mind, son. You look like you have the weight of the whole bloody world on your shoulders.’
‘I, em…I do have something to tell you.’
‘Well, sit down and spit it out, lad. Though I have a bloody good idea what it is, an’ all.’
Smiler stared at her for a moment before he sat down next to her. ‘How…?’
‘You’re going after Mike.’
‘How did you----? Never mind,’ he sighed. ‘I have to find him, Aunt May. He’s fading away.’
‘Nowhere Man, eh?’
‘Something like that.’
‘OK.Take
the Shetland pony.’
‘What?’
‘You heard.’
‘But he’ll get in the way.’
‘No, he’ll help protect you. There are some evil people out there, and that bloody dog adores you.’
‘Does he?’
‘Of course he does, you can see it in his eyes every time you come into the bloody room.’
Smiler sighed. ‘Guess he does,’ he said with a small smile.
Aunt May patted his hand. ’I’ve packed a haversack for you. Clean clothes, a bit of cash and a ticket to London to be picked up at the station.’
‘How did----?'
She tapped the side of her nose with her forefinger. ‘Let's just say it wasn’t hard to figure out.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Shelly was sitting on a bench, underneath the trees at the bottom of Timber Hill, eating a bacon sandwich. It had rained earlier, but the sun had been up for over an hour and soaked up all traces, apart from a few damp spots under the trees. She watched the busy crowds bustling by and sighed, the weight of her knowledge pressing heavy on her heart.
Ordinary people passing by, that’s all they are, without a clue as to how they are being manipulated.
Force-fed daily from TV and newspapers. Hidden instructions in every advert. Oh, God, it just goes on and on!
She looked at the half-eaten sandwich, her appetite all but gone. She was tempted to throw it in the bin, but knew she had to eat it.
Damned diabetes!
Bet they’ve got a cure for this hidden away. Bet none of them suffer from it, and that’s a fact. Bastards.
She forced the rest of the sandwich down, even though it made her feel sick. Then she faced up to the real problem. She hadn’t slept a wink last night. Murder, which was clearly what she had done, was most definitely not her thing.
Even though the swine deserved it.
Can I do it again, though? she wondered. And how many other girls have they done the same things to that they did to me? How many have they murdered?
They deserve to die.
The whole stinking lot of them.
Can I learn to live with the consequences, though?
She sat for a further half hour, torturing herself, one minute wanting to murder the whole lot, the next minute eaten up with guilt. Then pictures of Alicia entered her mind, Alicia laughing at old movies staring Jerry Lewis -Shelly had never heard of Jerry Lewis until Alicia introduced her to the movies-and Alicia crying because her pet cat Misty had died. The memories, flowing one after another, hurt. They also made her angry.
The thought of Alicia lying dead after how they had tortured her made her grind her teeth in anger.
Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she decided to carry on. Refusing to feel guilty any more, she was about to stand up when an old woman in a red coat sat down beside her.
‘Nice morning,’ the old woman said. ‘Well, it is now, after all that rain we had through the night.’ She smiled at Shelly as she took a bag of bird food out of her pocket, and threw a handful on to the ground. Within moments they were surrounded by pigeons greedily pecking at the corn.
‘Talk about raining cats and dogs,’ she went on. ‘Jesus! Really set my arthritis off. Still feeling it now, even though the sun is cracking the pavements. I would love to live where the sun shines every day, wouldn’t you? 'Cause them tablets the docs give you are rubbish. Don’t even get near to the pain.’ She rubbed her hands. ‘Did you know----’
‘Yes, yes, it is…a nice day,’ Shelly interrupted her.
Really, really haven’t got time for this, she thought, half rising from the bench.
‘Planning any more murders for today?' the old woman asked, quite innocently, as if murder was an everyday thing and something you asked a stranger in polite conversation.
Dropping back onto the bench, Shelly gasped and nearly choked. ‘What…what do you mean?’ she managed a moment later, staring at the old woman, her face as red as the woman’s coat.
‘Well, you got away with yesterday's, didn’t you, but only through luck…Trust me, it won’t happen again. Normally insulin can't be detected, it’s one of the last things they look for - but that lot's doctors are far in advance of any the National Health Service have.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Much more advanced. And then there’s the cameras. Oh yes, lots of CCTV footage, though apparently-and luckily for you-there was no CCTV footage in the whole of Norwich for a short time last night. That’s probably the reason you’re alive and enjoying the sun this morning.’
‘Who...who the hell are you?’ Shelly looked in amazement at the old woman.
‘Someone you’ve been looking for.’
Shelly frowned as she slipped to the end of the seat. Getting ready to run, she put her right foot firmly on the ground.
Sensing this, the old woman said, ‘Don’t panic. I’m not one of the Families. I belong to the other group you’ve been looking for.’
‘Oh, thank God.’ Shelly wanted to cry as she sank back onto the bench. ‘You are real.’
‘About as real as you can get,’ the woman replied with a smile.
‘I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure. So many rumours, sometimes it’s hard to pick the fact from the fiction.’
The old woman nodded. ‘You’re safe now.’
Shelly was trembling inside. She couldn’t believe her luck. They had found her. ‘So, what now?’
‘Now you come with me, Shelly.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Kirill Tarasov glared at his daughter, who defiantly glared right back at him. Before he could launch into a tirade, Lovilla shouted, ‘How was I to know she would climb out of the fucking window? Stupid peasant. You can’t blame me.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Tarasov growled. ‘She still has not been found. Have you any idea at all what sort of trouble can escalate from this?’ he loomed threateningly over her.
But Lovilla stood her ground. ‘Where were the fucking guards then, eh? Where were they? How can one fucking skinny little peasant escape from us?’
‘It’s not the first time,’ Tarasov snapped.
Lovilla stamped across the floor towards the door, then spinning round moved back until she was within a foot of her father. ‘Where were the guards?’ she demanded again, in his face. ‘Shoot the bastards.’ Realising she may have gone too far in confronting him so closely, she retreated a few steps.
‘It’s the guards fault,’ she repeated, folding her arms across her chest. ‘And how the hell have they not found her, with all the resources we have? It’s impossible.’
‘They’re still poring over the satellite pictures. For some strange reason, on a clear night, there was a lot of static.’ He frowned. ‘Almost as if there was deliberate interference.’
‘Impossible.’
‘I would have said the same a few years back, but some odd things have been happening lately. That’s why the meeting has been changed from London to here. That was before they found out that the satellite interference only covered the Norwich and London areas. Everyone has been asked to attend, that’s why your brother is on the next flight.’
‘Do you think that the fool's guard may have been murdered?’ Lovilla asked, changing the conversation away from herself.
‘Yes, I do. Although nothing really shows up on that hotel screen, and the interference lasts for only a minute or so, I’m quite sure there is someone else in the picture as he got out of the car.’
‘What’s he doing in Norwich, anyhow, knowing there’s a price on his head? The fool.’
‘And that’s exactly what he is, a fool. From what I’ve heard, he’s going to make an entrance at the meeting and demand that he be restored to full Family membership.’
Lovilla crossed the room and picked up her cigarettes and lighter from a small round table near the door, her silver-painted nails glinting in the sunlight. ‘Do you honestly think it will happen?’ she asked, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke towards her father.
He scowled and wafted his hands at the smoke. ‘Oh, yes, in some respects he’s indispensable.’
‘To you, maybe.’
‘And you, too, daughter. His services keep us from hunting our own meat. Remember that.’
Scowling, Lovilla changed the subject again. ‘It has to be them,’ she said with conviction. ‘The bastards have been a thorn in our sides for generations. Somehow, they must have rescued the fucking peasant. It was probably all planned.’
Tarasov clicked his tongue. ‘They call themselves the Descendants of Boudicca. Just a bunch of silly women with nothing better to do. How could they plan anything remotely like this? Satellite interference? I doubt it.’
‘Ha! If they’re just a bunch of silly women, how come they’ve managed to outwit us all these centuries? How come their dead patron managed to kill all those Romans, eh?’
‘You think too much.’ He turned and strode out.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Having finished breakfast and helped Coral to wash the dishes, Annya was revelling in her freedom. No one ordering her about. No jangled nerves, wondering what was going to happen in the next five minutes. Last night had seemed as if she was in a dream - to finally feel safe and to know she had outwitted the Families, it had been fantastic. And then they had explained to her that she would never truly be free until it was all over. That perhaps it wasn’t even safe to let her grandfather know that she was still alive.
Now Coral was sitting with her, in the large conservatory attached to the house where Annya had been brought last night. The dozen or so windows each held a plant pot filled with blooming orchids, alternately arranged in pink and white. She revelled in the fact that she was wearing jeans and a yellow t-shirt, which had been given to her by Coral. She wouldn’t have chosen the t-shirt herself - far too revealing, very low frontage as well as hanging off her right shoulder. But she was grateful. Anything was better than the blue sack things she’d been forced to wear.
Coral had filled a few things in for her about exactly who they were, and what they were doing against the might of the Families. What they had done over the centuries.
Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man Page 15