The Spider's Web

by Ben Cheetham

  She turned to the front door. Gavin hadn’t left the key in it. She would have to follow him out the back way. As she padded along the hallway, she wondered about the phone call. Had he gone outside to meet the caller? Another possibility occurred to her. Perhaps the call had been a warning of some kind. Maybe someone was at the house who shouldn’t be there. Anna Young’s face flashed into her mind. Had she somehow followed them?

  She put a hand over her nose as she entered the kitchen. There was a strong animal smell. Rows of pheasants, wood pigeons and rabbits hung from ceiling beams. The chopping board was deeply scored with knife marks and stained rusty brown. A chair was pushed up to the table with a labelless bottle of some homebrew in front of it. There was a greasy cooker with a pan of watery brown liquid on its hob. In a chipped farmhouse sink next to the back door, there were several aluminium trays containing what looked suspiciously like the leftovers of a takeaway chicken curry. It appeared Gavin was something of a bullshitter.

  The door was closed. Emily tried the handle. To her relief, the door creaked open. She poked her head outside. At the back of the house there was a small, windowless barn with a corrugated roof. Beyond the barn a long garden stretched towards a tall hedge. Someone had made an attempt to cultivate the garden. There were four rectangular earthen beds with rows of canes. But the beds were clogged with weeds and the surrounding grass was overgrown, except for a circular area around a sapling tree. A path had been cut through the grass to the tree, whose slender branches were decorated with dozens of fluttering coloured ribbons.

  Gavin was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes searched vainly for a gate or a gap in the hedge. Unless he was in the barn, Gavin must have headed around the front of the house. She was going to have to go that way too. She cautiously peered around the corner of the house closest to the forest. Halfway along the side there was a gap in the hedge filled with coils of barbed wire. Maybe the coils could be pulled aside and she could slip away into the trees. As she started towards the wire, she spotted Gavin emerging from another gap in the hedge adjacent to the Land Rover. He was moving slowly like a predator poised to strike. She gave a sharp little intake of breath. In his right hand he was gripping the skinning knife.

  15

  Anna tried phoning Jim back. Nothing. She returned her attention to the house, peeking one eye around the trailer. Gavin was no longer at the window. The thought of Emily alone in there with him gave her a horrible feeling in her stomach. Surely even he wouldn’t hurt his own daughter. Would he? Her mind returned to Jessica, the Hopeland children’s home, the corpse under the tree. And she knew that the answer was Yes he would. There were no depths that irredeemable filth wouldn’t sink to in order to satisfy his twisted needs. From where she was she couldn’t see anything through the little window. She needed to get closer. She needed to make sure Gavin wasn’t putting his slimy hands on Emily. She started to glance around for a way to approach the house unseen, but stopped herself. Jim had told her to stay put. She knew he was right. If she moved from behind the trailer, she risked being seen. And if she was seen, the possible consequences for herself, Emily, and maybe even Jessica, didn’t bear thinking about. The best thing she could do was wait for Jim to find his way to her.

  Anna looked at the time on her phone. It was 12:27. Jim was at the grassy track, which meant he was roughly fifteen minutes away from her. Fifteen minutes’ drive, she corrected herself. If he was on foot – which he almost certainly was – he would have to return to the main road to pick up his car. In which case it would take him more like thirty or even forty minutes to get to her. She drew in a steadying breath. Whether it took him fifteen or forty minutes, it would be the longest wait of her life.

  ‘Gavin!’

  Emily’s shrill voice sliced through the silence of the forest. The cry had come from the right-hand side of the house. Her heart accelerating crazily, Anna jerked to look in that direction. What she saw set her blood pumping even faster. Gavin was stalking towards her, a long knife glinting in his hand. There was no time to run away. She sprang upright and grabbed a log from the trailer. Gavin thrust the blade at her stomach. She blocked it with the log. The blade glanced off it, slicing into her fingers. She felt nothing but a slight cold sting. Then Gavin was pulling the blade back for a second strike. This time she was ready. Jessica’s abduction had prompted her to learn self-defence. She knew the best defence against a knife attack was evasion and counterstrike. As the knife flashed towards her, she sidestepped it and brought the log down against Gavin’s hand. The strike had just enough height and force behind it to knock the knife out of his grip. With a low grunt of pain, he drove his elbow into her face. The blow caught her on the cheekbone, snapping her head sideways and dislodging her glasses.

  Tears sprang into Anna’s eyes. Through them she blurrily saw Gavin stooping to retrieve the knife. She thrust her knee into his midriff. He caught hold of her leg. She tried to wrench it free, and suddenly they were both falling. She landed on her side with Gavin across her legs. He scrambled to get fully on top of her. As she’d been taught to do, she elevated her knees. For a second, her wiry muscles quivering with the effort, she managed to lift him into the air. But he was too heavy, too powerful. His weight flattened her out, pinning her to the ground. He reached to grab her throat. Always protect your throat! That had been one of her self-defence instructor’s mantras. If a stronger opponent got their hands on your throat, nothing you did would stop them from squeezing the life out of you. She tucked her chin tightly to her chest, preventing him from getting a proper grip. Simultaneously, she grabbed Gavin’s wrists and pushed them towards each other. One of his thumbs came within range of her teeth. She bit down on it with all her strength. Yelping like a wounded dog, he wrenched his thumb out of her mouth. The instant he did so, she bucked her hips and twisted from under him. She didn’t try to separate from him, though. Instead she swung a leg over him and straddled his waist.

  Now it was her turn! She’d waited for and dreamt about this moment for most of her life. With a kind of calm frenzy, she clasped Gavin’s head and dug her thumbs into his eyes. He jerked his face to the side, and she ducked down to clamp her teeth onto his ear. The salty, metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. Screaming again, he tried to throw her off. But she was on him like a limpet, biting, tearing, gouging. He pummelled his fists into her arms and ribs, blows heavy enough to shake her whole body. She knew she couldn’t withstand many of them. She knew too that even with her training, he would most probably eventually overpower her. But she felt no fear. Just an incredible, almost euphoric, sense of release.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it!’

  Emily’s voice rang out again, much closer now. Anna didn’t stop. She couldn’t. It was as if a dam had burst inside her and nothing could hold the flood back. Emily grabbed her arm and pulled her sideways. Realising Gavin would end up back on top of her unless she did otherwise, Anna rolled away from him and scrambled to her feet. He did likewise. Both of them were breathing hard. Gavin’s hair had come loose from its ponytail and hung in a scraggly mess around his shoulders. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Blood streamed from his torn left ear and deep scratches on his cheeks. There was blood smeared over Anna’s face too – both her own and Gavin’s. Her right eye was rapidly swelling shut. Her other eye frantically searched the ground. She spotted what she was looking for in Emily’s hand. Gavin did too.

  ‘Give me the knife,’ he panted, extending a hand.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ exclaimed Anna. ‘He’ll kill us both.’

  ‘Liar! You’re the one who came here to kill me.’

  ‘I came here to find Jessica.’

  Emily’s eyes were saucers of uncertainty. The knife trembled in her hand like an icicle about to drop. ‘Who’s Jessica?’

  ‘She’s my sister. This fucker abducted her.’

  ‘More lies!’ spat Gavin. ‘You people have ruined my life with your false accusations.’

  Anna could have almost laughed. Me? Ruined your fu
cking life? she felt like screaming back at him, but he wasn’t worth the breath it would take. ‘Why do you think he was kept secret from you, Emily? He’s a rapist, a murderer.’

  ‘Shut your stinking mouth, bitch.’ Gavin edged towards Emily.

  She took a faltering backward step. ‘Don’t come any closer.’

  Gavin’s voice dropped to a demanding hiss. ‘We’re blood, Emily. No matter what, always be loyal to your blood.’

  ‘You’re my blood too, Emily,’ Anna countered.

  Confusion twisted at Emily’s features. ‘What… what do you mean?’

  ‘My sister, Jessica, is your mum.’

  ‘Don’t listen to her,’ Gavin yelled over Anna. ‘She’s trying to mess with your head.’

  Her eyes glazing with tears, Emily murmured, ‘If she’s my mum, who’s my dad?’

  Anna eyed Gavin meaningfully. Emily looked at him too. Her mouth worked in mute realisation as she thought of her mum and dad, of how old they were. The doubts had always been there, she realised, like niggling whispers at the back of her mind. Now they yelled at her in unison, Too old. They’ve always seemed too old to be my parents! Gavin wasn’t too old. Tears spilled down her freckled cheeks. As though she couldn’t bear the sight of him, she closed her eyes. It was only for a second, but it was enough. Gavin and Anna both went for the knife. Gavin was fractionally faster. He grabbed the knife by the blade and wrenched it from Emily’s hand. As he righted the knife, Anna caught hold of his wrist. ‘Run, Emily!’ she shouted. She didn’t look to see if Emily heeded her words. She kept her eyes fixed on the knife. She tried to twist and lock Gavin’s arm, but her hands were slick with blood from two bone-deep cuts on her knuckles. Feeling her grip slipping, she let go and sprang away. He lunged at her stomach. She sucked it in and dodged aside again. Her back came up against the trailer. She knew then that she was in trouble. Never get caught with your back against anything. That was one of the fundamentals of self-defence. If your ability to move was limited, so was your ability to defend yourself.

  Gavin made another thrust, going for her face this time. She jerked her head back and the blade whistled by within a millimetre of her eyes. She didn’t attempt a counterstrike. The most important thing was to get into open space, put some distance between herself and the blade. As she twisted away from the trailer, she caught sight of Emily. The teenager appeared to be rooted to the ground like one of the encircling trees. Anna opened her mouth to shout Run! again, but her voice was cut off by the breath that suddenly whooshed through her teeth. It felt as though she’d been punched hard in the back. From the look of horror on Emily’s face, though, she knew she hadn’t been hit with merely a fist. A dull but incredibly intense pressure filling the right side of her chest, she staggered to one knee. She tried to get back up, but her legs didn’t seem to want to obey her mind. She slumped forward, bracing her hands against the ground, wheezing like an asthmatic. The pressure was rapidly building to a throbbing crescendo. Something yanked at her back, almost lifting her off the ground. She cried out hoarsely as an electric jolt of pain lanced through her. Then Gavin was standing over her with the bloodstained knife poised for a downward strike. This is it, her brain screamed at her. This is where I die. The fear was almost as overwhelming as the pain. But she’d be fucking damned if she was going to let Gavin see that. She glared defiantly up at him and in return he gave a slight nod, as if to say, Good game.

  ‘No!’ The word burst out of Emily as she flung herself between Anna and Gavin.

  ‘Move,’ he demanded.

  She shook her head frantically, trembling arms outspread.

  ‘Do…’ rasped Anna, fighting for the air to speak, ‘as he… says.’ She didn’t want to die. But even more than that she wanted Emily to live.

  ‘No,’ Emily said again. ‘Please, Gavin. Please don’t kill her.’

  ‘What do you care what I do to her?’ scowled Gavin. ‘She’s nothing to you.’ His darkly inscrutable eyes stared into Emily’s pleading blue ones for a breathless moment. His tongue flickered thoughtfully between his lips. When his voice next came, it was as soft as a snake’s hiss. ‘I have to leave this place. Will you come with me?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Wherever I go.’

  Now it was Anna’s turn to say, ‘No!’ She forced the word out with all the savage strength of her hatred for Gavin.

  Emily looked at her with eyes that said, What choice do I have? Her gaze returned to Gavin and she nodded.

  He sheathed his knife. That same sly smile Anna had seen in the forest played over his lips. Only now he didn’t hide it from Emily. He reached to cup a hand against her cheek. A moan of helpless rage escaped Anna at the sight. Her fingers dug into the turf as though it was Gavin’s flesh. He moved forward and, for a second, it seemed he was going to embrace or even kiss Emily. She stiffened as though in anticipation of this. But instead, he stepped around her and stooped to hook his hands under Anna’s armpits. She feebly tried to push him away, but only succeeded in collapsing onto her face.

  He spoke sharply into her ear. ‘This is your lucky day, bitch.’ Shooting Emily a glance, he added, ‘Get her legs. Quickly! We haven’t got much time.’

  Emily took hold of Anna’s feet.

  ‘Not her feet. Wrap your arms behind her knees,’ said Gavin, speaking with the authority of someone who knew what they were doing when it came to carrying a body.

  Anna’s breath gurgled as they lifted her off the ground. With every passing minute, it was getting harder to breathe. The throbbing had become a burning. It was like someone was holding a lighted match to her skin. Gavin backed down the side of the house. Emily stumbled and her grip slipped. A choking cough wracked Anna as her backside hit the ground. She gritted her teeth with the effort to cling on to consciousness.

  ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ said Emily, struggling to regain her grip. She looked fearfully at Anna’s face. ‘There’s blood coming out of her mouth.’

  ‘She’s probably got a punctured lung,’ said Gavin.

  ‘Is she going to die?’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. It depends how long it takes for her to get medical attention.’

  ‘We have to call an ambulance.’

  Gavin treated Emily to an Are you serious? look. ‘There are people on their way here.’

  ‘What people?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what people. The point is, if she’s lucky they’ll find her in time. If not…’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. That’s the best deal she’s going to get.’

  When they reached the barn, Gavin none too gently set down his end of Anna. She coughed again and more blood-streaked saliva frothed from her mouth. Emily stooped to wipe it off with her sleeve. Gavin batted her hand away. ‘You don’t know where she’s been,’ he snapped. ‘Do you want to catch AIDS? You’re no good—’ He broke off as though he’d been about to say more than he wanted to.

  He unlocked a padlock and opened the barn door. The smell of tree sap and charcoal wafted out. Hooking his hands back under Anna’s armpits, he dragged her inside. He flicked a switch and a bare light bulb flickered into life, illuminating what looked to be a partially complete sculpture of a body curled up fetally amidst gnarled womb-like tree roots. In one corner was a jumble of rusty garden tools. Logs and plastic sacks of charcoal were stacked against the walls to either side of a battered old chest freezer. Even in her agony, Anna noted a couple of telling modifications to the freezer: a padlock had been fitted to its lid; a metal pipe about six inches long and of equal diameter protruded from its front. Her mind flashed back to the Leeds garage, the parallel gouges on its floor. The freezer was the right width to have made the gouges. She thought too of the girl under the tree. Alison Sullivan. Had she been kept prisoner in the freezer? Had Jessica too? The freezer looked old enough.

  ‘Where’s Jessica?’ she managed to wheeze.

  Gavin made no reply. But his eyes said, You’ll never know. He rifled through Anna’s poc
kets, pulled out her phone and turned to leave. His gaze lingered on the sculpture. Gently, almost reverently, he ran his fingers over its surface. A pained little spasm contorting his face, he jerked his hand away and hurried from the barn. Emily hesitated to follow him. She stared at Anna with a mix of uncertainty, anxiety and apology.

  ‘Come on,’ demanded Gavin. ‘We’ve got to go.’

  I’m sorry, Emily mouthed at Anna. The door creaked shut, sealing Anna in a darkness split by arrows of light that pierced cracks in the roof. The padlock snapped into place with metallic finality. Fighting pain and weakness, Anna struggled into a sitting position. She knew there wasn’t a second to waste. Her breathing was growing shallower and more rapid. And although her skin burnt where the knife had gone in, deep inside she felt icy cold. Her teeth were chattering and her limbs were shaking. At self-defence class she’d also learnt first aid. She knew that she was going into shock. She knew too, when she peeled off her t-shirt and felt for the wound, that Gavin had been right – the blade had punctured her lung. About two inches below her right shoulder blade and just in from her spine was a clean-edged wound, the lips of which sucked together as she inhaled. Air was flooding into her chest cavity. If she didn’t patch the hole, the build-up of pressure around her lung would soon cause it to collapse and she would die.

  As fast as she could, she crawled to the sacks of charcoal and tore at one of them. The plastic was strong. She didn’t have the strength to rip it. She moved to the garden tools and groped amongst them until she found what she needed – a set of shears. The blades were rusty, but sharp enough to cut away a piece of plastic. With one hand, she pressed the plastic to the wound. With the other, she wadded her t-shirt against the plastic. Then she leant back firmly against the freezer. She felt her breathing ease as the pressure within her lung was restored. She knew it was only a temporary fix, though. She was still bleeding internally. Her lung was filling with blood, gradually drowning her from the inside out. Her gaze fixed on the chink of light at the bottom of the door. The wood looked rotten. She reckoned she could use the garden tools to prise her way through it. But if she moved, she took the pressure off the wound. And if she did that, she would be unconscious in minutes.