Jason Willow: Face Your Demons

by G Mottram

  ‘Tanya?’ Jason tried sitting up a bit straighter but stopped at a jabbing in his chest. The silhouette of a girl was leaning over him, soft hair just brushing his cheek as she leaned in close.

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s me. Please say you’re all right…’

  Jason couldn’t stop himself - he coughed up a laugh and hot, metallic blood trickled into his mouth from lips that felt three inches thick.

  ‘I’ve felt better.’ His words didn’t sound right – short-tongued and slurred. He forced open his eyes against his swelling cheeks.

  A blurred Tanya was inches from his face. She kissed his mouth, as softly as she could, her lips trembling, salty tears running down to sting his cuts.

  ‘Ouch,’ he said and she quickly pulled away.

  ‘Oh, I’m so stupid… sorry.’

  Jason reached out his less agonized arm and rested it on Tanya’s knee. ‘Sh’okay. What happened?’

  ‘Eddie and some of the others came in the van. They ran down through the trees and surprised the Skins when they saw them chasing you in here.’

  ‘Wish they’d got here a bit quicker,’ Jason coughed, his head ringing with the motion.

  ‘Now there’s gratitude for someone who bled all over my second best Armani shirt.’

  Jason lifted his head slowly - it hurt, everywhere hurt.

  Faint moonbeams lanced through the branches above to reveal Fast Eddie dabbing a handkerchief over the glimmer of a white shirt. Even a glint of his perfect smile somehow managed to catch the faint light.

  ‘Whersh everyone elsh?’ Jason asked. It seemed important.

  ‘Skin hunting. I left them chasing the cowards back out through whatever little rat-hole they used to get in here. It’ll probably go on half the night and I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘Thanksh for…’

  ‘No problem – all good exercise,’ Eddie cut in. ‘Now, don’t talk anymore or I might have to laugh.’ That smile flashed again.

  Jason nodded. Tanya dabbed at his face some more and brushed his blood-matted hair back from his eyes. If he’d had the strength he’d have stopped her fussing over him… at least in front of Eddie.

  ‘You did well out there Jason – you would have had no chance in that circle. Your… err… running push was pretty effective, too - you really sent those skins flying. I think one of them might have broken an arm in the fall… but we made sure of it, just in case.’

  Jason nodded but something immediately didn’t ring true. Hadn’t Tanya said Eddie arrived when the Skins were already chasing him into the trees? How did he see Jason break out of the circle by the gate? He must have it wrong, he couldn’t think straight with his brain pounding out of his skull.

  ‘Of course with the proper training, someone of your… talents could have taken them all out,’ Eddie continued. ‘Then there would have been no need to abandon young Tanya here, and run away.’

  Jason snapped his head up. Ouch. He’d not abandoned Tanya - he’d got her safely out of danger… and then what else could he do but run from those sorts of odds?

  Fast Eddie seemed to read his mind. ‘Now don’t take offence, I know you didn’t have much choice this time but the thing is, we could teach you...’ he glanced at Tanya, ‘so much, Jason. To be honest, I think you’re going to need it. After tonight, you’ll be a hot target… and that means the big boys will take notice.’

  ‘There are bigger boysh?’ Jason asked, wincing as a couple of lip cuts cracked open again. Tanya winced with him.

  Fast Eddie laughed. ‘Oh yeah but we’ll talk more when you can speak properly. Come on Tanya, let’s get the Elephant Man here into the van.’

  Tanya took one arm, Eddie the other and they hoisted him to his feet. Eddie’s help was a lot less delicate than Tanya’s. It was almost completely dark now, even once they’d hobbled out of the trees. The entire park had turned into a mass of shadows clawing their way out of the earth.

  Eddie steered them towards a small gate at the top end of the park and then into a low-lit side street. A big, black Mercedes van with heavily tinted windows waited for them. The three of them climbed into the cab, Tanya helping Jason in and drawing breath with him at every jolt. As he sank gratefully into the leather seats Jason risked the pain of twisting around to check in the back. It was empty but as the courtesy lights faded out, he saw the van had been converted to seat about another dozen people - complete with a black fridge and television screen for their travelling comfort.

  Fast Eddie turned the key and the engine growled into life. He flicked on the lights and pulled out onto the brightly lit street running past the park. Jason tried to think through the throbbing in his brain - why had Eddie bothered carefully hiding the van in an alley if the Brash had been rushing to his rescue?

  Tanya kept looking over at Jason, her eyes shining each time they passed through the yellowed light of a street lamp. He leaned further back so she couldn’t see his face so clearly and closed his eyes.

  He felt wretched - he ached all over, sharp spikes stuck in him whenever he moved and he’d not only abandoned his sort-of-girlfriend but he’d run like a rabbit before half the Skins.

  He’d be the laughing stock of the school on Monday morning. He’d never live this down and have to leave the school, just when he was starting to settle in.

  There was one way to get out of this of course – if he fought all of tonight’s Skins, one by one, in the Pit he could clear his name.

  Of course, the Pit might only be part of it. Hairy had said something about “different rules out here”. If he wasn’t even safe in Darkston village, fenced off from the Skins by razor wire, cameras, armed guards and watchtowers, how vulnerable would he be in Darkston Wick – less than an hour’s walk through woods and meadow from the edge of Drunken Abbot? And what had Eddie meant by the “big boys would take an interest in him now”?

  If he was going to survive this he needed some friends who would stick by him and now, more than ever, he needed to learn how to use his Gift. That was exactly what Eddie seemed to be offering.

  Jason opened his eyes and sat up straighter - ignoring the burning blades jabbing in to his back and ribs. No one was saying anything. Tanya had even stopped her fussing over him although she still kept glancing across.

  Jason just looked outside - he was in no state for deep and meaningful conversation right now.

  Nightfall had changed Darkston. The picturesque houses were dark, the quaint overhanging thatch roofs casting windows and walls deep into shadow. Little alleys between houses, quaint in the daytime, were dark beyond the reach of the streetlights.

  Pub life had changed as well. In the two inns they’d passed so far, the gardens and tables stood dark and deserted, the only signs of life were silhouettes, distorted in the lace-draped windows, slowly, steadily drinking back their ale.

  Eddie flipped open a tiny mobile and said ‘Taxi’ into it.

  ‘Hello Barbara… yes it’s Eddie. Listen, I need a car from West 3 to Darkston Wick… yes, I know it’s late. Better get someone to ride shotgun as well, I’ve a feeling things might be a little stirred up tonight… Okay, cheers old girl - be there in five.’

  Eddie snapped his phone shut and slipped it away.

  ‘Sorry I can’t drive you all the way home myself… the van is a tad conspicuous and we’re not very welcome out there after dark.’

  Jason started to nod but quickly stopped himself. His head was about fourteen times too heavy to move anymore. ‘Thatsh fine. You’ve done enough… thanksh again.’

  ‘How’re you feeling?’ Eddie asked, glancing across at him.

  ‘Not exactly shparkling.’

  ‘Mmm. They aren’t very nice, our baldy friends, are they? Things can get a little out of hand away from school… and we’re only playing in the kiddie-league here.’

  Tanya put her hand on Jason’s thigh. ‘You can’t go through this again Jason, not on your own… you just can’t.’ She stared at him, trying to draw his gaze. Jason just looked out of
the front window, watching the street lights drift by, catching the glint of a camera lens following the van.

  ‘Mmm,’ he grunted.

  ‘Seriously Jason,’ Fast Eddie said, ‘Tanya’s got a point. Next time we may not happen to be around to help out. Let’s not prat about here… you’re, um… talented and you need to know how to build on those talents…’ Eddie glanced across at Tanya again. From his caginess it was obvious Tanya didn’t know anything about the Gift. Eddie carried on.

  ‘But no matter how good you get, you also need to even up the odds a little. Nobody can take on all the bad guys by themselves. For your own safety…’

  Jason couldn’t take much more. ‘All right – I’ve thought about it and I want to join you. I want to pay the Shkinsh back, shtarting with everyone who was in that park tonight.’

  There was silence for a moment. Tanya hesitantly slipped her hand into his.

  Jason caught Eddie’s thin smile in the rear view mirror. ‘About bloody time,’ Eddie said. ‘Now let’s get you home.’

  ***

  Getting home was no simple affair.

  Fast Eddie drew up to a small gate in the fence and turned his headlights off. A huge, dimly lit garage opened up on their right and he slipped the van straight into it. The electric garage door was coming down even as Eddie switched off the engine.

  Fluorescent light flickered into life and Eddie stepped out onto the dusty concrete floor. Jason limped out after him, forcing down memories of the concrete floored, fluorescent-lit multi-storey car park where his mum had been murdered.

  Two Brash security guards were waiting for them. They were in their midnight blue uniforms, radios, handcuffs and police batons swinging from their belts. Something bulged under both of their jackets on the left hand side - a pistol of some sort, Jason guessed. Little would surprise him about Alan Brash’s little empire now.

  ‘Taxi ready, gentlemen?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘Top of Pew Street. Go out the normal way.’ one of the guards replied.

  ‘Wait for me here, Tanya,’ Eddie said, ‘this is no place for pretty young things.’

  Tanya nodded. ‘See you Monday,’ she whispered to Jason and gently kissed his cheek.

  Jason nodded.

  The security guards led them over to a small door at the far end of the garage. One of them switched off all but a single, low red light as the other tapped a pin number into a keypad. Eddie swung open the steel-cored door on silent hinges and he and Jason stepped out into Drunken Abbot.

  Behind them, a five metre wall topped with razor wire rose up in shadow to seal them off from the village.

  ‘Sorry about all this cloak and dagger stuff, old boy.’ Eddie whispered, flashing a smile as he scanned the dingy street. ‘It’s just if any of the Skins are still around they might be watching the gates for you. It’s best they don’t know how you’re travelling over their turf.

  Jason grunted – he’d be quite happy to meet a couple of them now.

  Eddie led them off in silence along two or three narrow and dirty alleyways. He moved easily through the dark cover of derelict buildings and broken streetlights as if he’d done this journey a hundred times before.

  At last, when it felt as if his bruised bones were rubbing through the cartilage and sparking off each other, Jason saw his taxi home. It was an old, pea-green Audi battered with scratches and dents. Even the unlit ‘TAXI’ sign on its roof had been smashed.

  ‘No expensh spared,’ Jason grumbled, splitting open his lip again.

  ‘None whatsoever, but it does blend in better out here.’ Eddie said, opening the back door.

  No interior light came on but Jason could make out two huge, crop-haired meat-heads sitting in the front. Neither one turned around as he eased himself onto the rear seat. The front passenger was holding the top of a baseball bat which disappeared into the darkened foot-well.

  ‘Keep your head down, sunshine,’ Eddie said, ‘and remember not to go too far from home until we officially take you under our tender wing.’ Then he quietly clicked the door closed.

  The driver rolled down his window and Eddie bent down to speak through it, handing in a couple of folded banknotes as he did so. ‘The Old Mill in the Wick, please George.’

  The man grunted and the Audi’s engine stuttered into life.

  ‘You’re safe now, young Jason,’ Eddie said, grinning through the driver’s window, ‘George and his mate here are old hands at this.’

  The “taxi” sped away before Jason could reply and George closed the window and locked the doors. The Audi rattled through a number of maze-like back-streets and alleys before finally pulling into a main street and accelerating up to sixty. Despite Eddie’s words, nothing felt particularly ‘safe’ about this ride home.

  Jason sank lower in his worn fabric seat. They sped along the wide street without slowing down for junctions. Irregular streetlights – those not yet smashed - flashed by in a harsh yellow blur. Dark buildings loomed up and fell away with hardly a window lit. They passed pub after pub, all with dark silhouettes drinking behind filthy frosted windows.

  Not everyone was inside, however. Lounging against pub walls and on street corners were groups of youths - many of them Skins. They all watched the cab speed by with malevolent eyes. Jason sank lower still. What if the cab crashed or got a flat tyre. He’d have to step out into those streets and find his own way home.

  There were men walking the streets as well, hard looking men. Again, many of them were skinheads in white T-shirts or leather vests like Callum Mennis. They were all heavily tattooed - tormented demons, skulls and writhing women for the most part, glowing lurid blue-green under the street lamps. Their eyes all followed the cab but they didn’t slow their trek to the next pub.

  Jason tried moving his stiff arms and legs. Everywhere hurt, but at least his mind was clearing a little more now. Had he done the right thing? He’d just agreed to join the Brash. Dad would do his “I’m disappointed with you but you need to make your own mistakes” bit. Mouse and Louisa would probably never speak to him again.

  Well… whatever. He wasn’t going to run any more, from anyone or anything. And joining the Brash meant he’d get training and a chance at having his revenge on the Skins. It would also open the door for him learning about his Gift if Dad carried on being so stubborn.

  Smash.

  Glass - a bottle or something, shattered on the cab’s roof. The man riding shotgun pulled up his bat but George accelerated away leaving more bottles crashing harmlessly behind them. Jason twisted painfully around - a dozen or so skinhead men had run out into the road - shouting and flashing the finger after the taxi. A last bottle came hurtling towards them but they were on the edge of town. The Audi roared out onto the moors and left Drunken Abbot behind.

  It was suddenly quiet again with nothing but dark fields stretching away to the black mass of the valley sides. The driver slowed down and the whole car seemed to breathe out slowly. Jason opened his window a little and fresh, cool air streamed in.

  Soon they turned into the little forest road towards Darkston Wick. Jason only closed his eyes for a moment but suddenly they were pulling into the gravel drive of the Old Mill and Dad was yanking open the house door. As he rushed down to the taxi, three silhouettes took his place at the top of the steps with the hall lamp shining like a beacon behind them.

  He was safe, he was home.

  Chapter 13

  ‘Jason, are you all right? Can you walk?’ Dad had snatched open the cab door and was half inside. His hair was all messed up as if he’d been raking his fingers through it for hours. Miranda peered over his shoulder.

  ‘I’m fine, don’t fuss,’ Jason mumbled.

  Ilena Russof appeared at the driver’s window. She pulled out some money and offered it to him. George took it, even though Fast Eddie had paid him already. Jason bit his lip, glancing at the men’s weapons in the shadows, and decided not to say anything. When he joined the Brash he’d get a refund for Ilena from these two c
rooks.

  ‘Perhaps you should let him get out, Richard,’ Ilena said. Her voice was soft and compassionate, its slight accent making her sound almost husky when speaking this quietly.

  Dad pulled himself out of the cab. ‘Yes, yes of course. Come on, Son. Do you need help?’

  ‘I’m not bloody dead yet,’ Jason said and edged himself out of the cab, every cut seeming to tear open again as his bruised and aching muscles flexed to move him.

  Dad’s mouth dropped open as Jason straightened in the lamp light. Then he closed it and his whole face set like stone around eyes suddenly hardened to onyx. Ice mode.

  ‘Who did this to you?’

  Ilena quickly put a hand on Dad’s shoulder and turned him half towards her. ‘We should just take him inside for now, Richard - clean him up a little. It looks worse than it is… mostly dried blood.’

  Dad stood rigid for a moment, staring at his battered son. Then he turned on his heel and strode back into the house. With an encouraging smile at Jason, Ilena stepped quickly to catch up with Dad, talking softly to the side of his set face.

  ‘We thought you were… in real trouble.’ Miranda said then stormed back up the steps.

  ‘I was…’ Jason grunted to her back.

  ‘Better luck next time, kid.’ George grunted through his window as he pocketed the money and pulled away.

  As the headlights disappeared down the High Street, the mystery third silhouette he had seen stepped out of the shadows. It was the man he and Louisa had met in the woods – Marakoff.

  His limp was more pronounced on the stone steps and he leant heavily on his walking stick. It looked like he was wearing the same loose grey-green shirt and trousers he’d had on two days ago.

  ‘I did say that we would meet again, yes?’ Marakoff smiled and gestured towards the front door.

  Jason started walking up the steps

  ‘Your father has been very worried about you,’ Marakoff continued in his stilted, Dracula accent as he limped up next to him. ‘It was hours ago that he telephoned your Mr Brash to see if he and his cameras knew where you were. It seemed there was no sight of you in the village.’