Jason Willow: Face Your Demons

by G Mottram

  Ilena raced into the lead again and they began to run. She seemed to know exactly where she was going through the warren of dark alleyways stinking of old urine.

  She kept them to the most deserted rat-runs but even so they had to dive into rubbish-tip gardens or behind wrecked cars three times as huge-wheeled trucks roared past with men hanging out of the back. They were all armed with baseball bats, chains and machetes. A chopper droned over the town at one point but no searchlight from above sought them out.

  Then they were forced to stop a fourth time when they heard the chanting of a crowd around a corner directly ahead.

  ‘Here.’ Ilena hissed and they dived for cover behind a rusting old Ford Transit van. A moment later a mob of twenty or more drunken Skinheads marched into sight parading their prize on a squealing-wheeled supermarket cart – a beaten and bloodied, half naked Brethren soldier with his hood tied tightly over his head.

  ‘Doing just what Brash has conditioned them to do,’ Dad whispered as they watched the pitiless parade stomp by. The men were jumping on each other and fighting for a chance to spit and punch at their victim.

  Jason, pistol in hand, edged one eye around the van for a better look. He thought he recognized one of the Skins closest to them – a shaven headed girl with a thin ponytail…

  Ilena’s walkie-talkie burst into life. She instantly knocked the volume off but it was too late – the girl turned her head towards them and looked straight at Jason.

  It was Rat-Tail – Lindsey Davenport, from Jason’s bus. Her mouth dropped open and she stopped. A hugely muscled Skin immediately behind stumbled into her and swore. As he turned to follow her stare down the alley, Dad pulled Jason back behind the van and onto the floor. Jason gripped his pistol and they both watched from under the chassis.

  Lindsey hesitated for one more moment, then slapped the Skin hard around the face. He bellowed a string of obscenities but she was already running after the rest of the mob. With a last glance down the alley, the Skin lumbered after her and the street was clear again.

  ‘Get out of there … now.’ Ilena was gripping her walkie-talkie tightly to her ear, her eyes and mind somewhere else. Jason focussed in. Despite the low volume he could just hear Mouse’s voice.

  Louisa’s voice crackled back up over the radio ‘… they have definitely spotted us.’

  Ilena’s eyes were wide. She hissed to Dad. ‘They’ve found them, they’re coming to check the car… Lou…’

  Dad snapped his fingers and Ilena passed him the walkie-talkie. ‘Mouse - tell Louisa to start my car and run them down – this is not a game… do it now!’

  A moment passed then Mouse’s voice came back. ‘She’s turning the key but it is dead. It won’t start. They’re coming.’

  Dad stayed calm, his voice strong and clear. ‘The immobiliser has timed in. Press the padlock button on the key.’

  A thumping and smashing came across the tinny speaker like the sound of bricks and bottles pummelling a car.

  ‘Nothing’s happening,’ Mouse almost shouted.

  ‘Oh my god.’ Ilena scrambled to her feet and started around the van. Dad raced after her, still talking into the radio. ‘The key battery’s low. Hold the key next to the little black receiver by the rear view mirror.’

  Jason helped Marakoff up and they chased after Dad and Ilena.

  Seconds later, the engine over-revved massively through the speaker. Tyres screeched and the thump of bodies bouncing off the bonnet came through loud and clear. Glass smashing was the last sounds before Mouse cut in. ‘We are away from them – Louisa ran over… oh hell– now a truck… a pick-up truck has found us.’

  ‘Keep Louisa calm,’ Dad said, as he slowed down to let Jason and Marakoff catch up with him. ‘Tell her to ignore everything except driving to the back-up meeting point.’

  Ilena was already at the end of the alley checking out the next street. She waved them on then sprinted out of sight. Dad carried on talking calmly into the radio. ‘We’re two minutes from the Abbot & Flagon. Get there and we’ll deal with the truck.’

  ‘Two trucks, now,’ Mouse corrected through the screech of cornering tyres and thud of bricks on bodywork. ‘Watch out for that post, Louisa!’

  ‘Keep her calm,’ Dad said. They caught up with Ilena and he gripped her free hand for a moment. ‘Don’t worry - they’re moving,’ he took Marakoff’s arm from Jason and flung it over his shoulder. ‘Keep point, Ilena – head for the Abbot & Flagon.’

  Ilena nodded, glancing once at the walkie-talkie. Her daughter was driving for her life on the other end of that transmission. She dashed out into the next street.

  It was one of the main thoroughfares through Drunken Abbot – Distillery Road - but it was like something out of war-torn Baghdad. Three cars were on fire, jagged glass clung to countless smashed window frames and a couple of telephone boxes lay ripped from their foundations. From somewhere further down the street a stereo blared from an upper window. Jason didn’t recognize the thumping rock song… something about ‘eating rifles’ by the sound of it.

  But for now, there was no one to be seen.

  They raced along the street, leaping over the razor shards of windows and smashed bottles of Drunken Abbot Ale, thrown bricks and still-burning petrol bombs. They were no longer worried about stealth – they had to reach Louisa and Mouse.

  Dad was back on the radio. ‘Mouse – under your seat – a pistol. Flick off the safety catch and use it on the trucks – don’t put your head out of the window to aim.’

  Ilena glanced back at Dad, her face ashen, then flew into a sprint. Jason lengthened his stride to keep up with her but Dad and Marakoff fell behind despite Marakoff having one arm locked around Dad’s shoulders and taking great hopping leaps in time with Dad’s running steps. The ghost looked pale, sweating and desperately trying to keep his injured leg from being jolted.

  Jason dropped back. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked stupidly.

  Marakoff raised one eyebrow at him and hopped on.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jason panted, ‘stupid question.’

  Twenty metres ahead now, Ilena ran passed a pub just as the front door burst open. She skidded to a stop flat against the pub wall and span around as two burly drunks stumbled out.

  The men froze. With their cropped hair, bright white football shirts and fingers studded with heavy gold rings, they looked like hardened pub brawlers. However, a beautiful woman dressed in a black cat-suit and carrying a Kalashnikov was evidently too much for them to take on alone.

  The biggest one reached back for the slowly closing door, his mouth opening to shout.

  Ilena was on him instantly and knocked him out with a fist to the temple. His mate swore and pulled out a cosh from his jeans back pocket. Ilena simultaneously stamped her foot into the side of his knee and pulled the door shut. The drunk crumpled to the floor.

  Jason, sprinting to help, threw an air punch at the sinking man’s head just as Ilena hit him from the other side. His eyes bulged and he was out cold before he hit the pavement.

  Dad and Marakoff had used the time to catch up and they all raced away together without saying a word.

  They ran passed the stereo-booming window. The music had changed, it was pounding out something about ‘going underground’ now. Ilena led them across the road and down a side street. Jason swallowed hard – it was very similar to the alleyway where Eddie had hidden the van during their mission into the ‘Abbot and Lashing’. Oliver and Erin were lying dead in the armoury now and Eddie was probably hunting him down.

  The roar of engines and two gunshots echoed down the alley to meet them.

  ‘We are too late,’ Ilena shouted back, slipping one of her Kalashnikovs from her back and sprinting ahead.

  Dad’s Renault estate roared passed the end of the alley. Jason caught a glimpse of Louisa at the wheel.

  ‘Down, Ilena,’ Dad yelled and Ilena threw herself to the floor.

  Jason felt the zephyr of powerful Gift use rush past him and a sh
immering wall materialised all across the road ahead. A second later an open-backed truck smashed into Dad’s wall. Three men hurtled over the cab and slammed into the solid air as the truck burst into flame and flying metal.

  A second truck, brakes locked, skidded past the fireball and slammed into the air-wall. Its bonnet crumpled like a crushed can and the windscreen exploded out as the driver and passenger hurtled through the glass. Two other men flew over the cab and smacked wetly into the wall from the truck back.

  Ilena rolled to her feet from under Dad’s shimmering air stream sucking in energy to form the wall. She snapped up her Kalashnikov and raked the wrecked vehicles with short, controlled bursts as the four of them raced to the alley’s end.

  Engine running, Dad’s car waited thirty feet down the road. Dad dropped the wall and they sprinted past the burning trucks and bodies towards their getaway car. Louisa slammed into an engine-whining reverse to meet them as all along the street, curtains were being pulled back and windows opened.

  Jason slowed down to stay with Dad and Marakoff. The roaming mobs would surely be drawn in by the explosions and any one of those opening windows might have a maniac behind it, maybe a maniac with a gun.

  Louisa, a pistol-bearing Mouse beside her, screeched the Renault to a halt a couple of metres in front of her mother. Ilena threw up the estate’s hatchback door and then covered the houses and street with her Kalashnikov as the others caught up.

  ‘Back seat – quickly,’ she said.

  Jason dived into the cab and helped Marakoff in as Dad darted back to slam the door on Ilena who had leapt into the back of the estate.

  ‘Go!’ Dad shouted, jumping in beside Jason.

  ‘Where’s Miranda?’ Jason asked.

  No one answered him as Louisa floored the accelerator and they wheel-span away as the first gunshots rang out behind them.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Dad – where’s Miranda?’ Jason asked again.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Dad said as they pulled clear of the town and sped into the pre-dawn light of the valley floor.

  ‘Pull over please, Louisa,’ Dad said, ‘I’ll drive, now.’

  Louisa slowed to a halt and pushed open her door. The cool moors air washed over Jason as she and Dad dashed around the car to switch places. Louisa looked pale and tense as she got in but she gave Jason a tight smile before twisting around to stare out of the back window.

  ‘Right - where’s Miranda?’ Jason asked as Dad wheel-span back on to the road.

  ‘She’s safe - in Darkston Wick.’

  ‘But that’s the first place Brash will look for her,’ Jason shouted.

  ‘We didn’t know Brash was going to be hunting us down when we left,’ Dad said. ‘There was no sense in her risking Drunken Abbot and besides, there wouldn’t have been enough room in the car for everyone.’

  ‘So you just left her there?’ Jason said.

  ‘It would have been the safest place - the Brethren had no interest in the village,’ Dad said, driving ever faster.

  ‘Brash may think she is with us in the car,’ Louisa said, now sitting next to Jason.

  Jason chewed at his lip. ‘Who’s house is she at – our or yours? Brash knows she was staying with you… I told him.’

  ‘Neither,’ Dad answered. ‘For all we know Brash might have all the houses wired and if the Brethren had somehow taken the abbey… She’s hiding in the wheelhouse – it’s clear of surveillance.’

  Ilena spoke, braced in the boot section of the estate, searching behind for any sign of pursuit. ‘With all the doors and windows still boarded up – it should be safe.’

  Jason nodded… perhaps. It was no use arguing about it now – they just needed to pick up Miranda and get the hell out of there.

  Marakoff sat on his other side, silently re-bandaging his bleeding leg. He looked pale, even though his rough skin and stubble.

  It was getting lighter – the sun would rise in twenty minutes or so.

  Jason sank back into his seat. Finally his body had relaxed enough to ache and he felt shattered. He closed his eyes and images immediately flooded through his mind.

  He’d killed people – real people, not some computer generated graphic or cardboard target. He’d shot his pistol and seen their bodies jerk back with blood splattering out of bullet wounds he’d caused. He’d nearly been killed himself, a Glimmerman had been inches from him. A demon had got inside his head.

  And his friends had died trying to protect him.

  Brash was a Summoner – he’d put a demon inside Violet.

  ‘Miranda, come in.’

  Jason snapped his head around. Ilena was speaking into a walkie-talkie. There was no reply.

  They’d reached the turn for Darkston Wick and Dad slid the car onto the woodland road and hit the accelerator. ‘She won’t be in range until we’re out of the trees,’ he said, as calm as ever.

  No one spoke any more as Dad raced through the trees, flashing through the gears and cutting corners so tight that branches lashed at the windows.

  At last they burst free of the woods and Darkston Wick appeared just a mile away. Nothing moved. River-mist trailed through the entire hamlet.

  ‘Miranda – come in.’ Ilena said again.

  ‘I… I’m here.’ Miranda’s voice came over the radio.

  Jason breathed again but caught Dad staring back at Ilena in the rear view mirror. Marakoff had turned around to watch her as well.

  Ilena kept her voice level. ‘We are nearly there. Come out carefully and wait in the trees until you see our car.’

  There was a hesitation then the radio crackled back into life. ‘Um… no. I feel safer in here. Come inside to get me… please.’

  Ilena glanced at Dad’s eyes in the mirror. He nodded.

  ‘Of course, dear. Your father will come – he will be there in a few minutes.’ She switched off the radio.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Jason asked

  Dad took in a breath. ‘Someone has Miranda.’

  ‘What,’ Jason shouted, staring out of the window. They were half a minute away from the village. ‘Who’s got her – the Brethren…? Brash?’

  Dad floored the accelerator. ‘Brash’s men, almost certainly. The Brethren had no reason to come through this way and they wouldn’t know we lived here anyway.’

  ‘Yes, Brash I think.’ Marakoff said. ‘We heard that helicopter fly over us in Drunken Abbot.’

  Dad brushed one hand through his hair. ‘Ilena – I’ll drop you all off next to your car and you get them out of here – take the old road so…’

  ‘Hold on…’ Jason cut in, then faltered as they sped passed The Old Mill. It was as dark and silent as an open grave.

  ‘We’ve no time to argue about this, Jason…’ Dad started.

  ‘Then don’t bother,’ Jason said. ‘There’s no way I’m leaving here without Miranda.’

  They hurtled past the shadowed facade of The Highwayman and the bridge stretching over into the dark of the trees. Dad began to slow down and glanced back in the mirror at Jason.

  ‘There’s absolutely no point in risking…’

  Marakoff cut Dad him off this time even as he scanned every darkened doorway and misted garden. ‘You won’t change Jason’s mind Richard. You are almost drained – it will take the three of us to help Miranda, I think.’

  Dad skidded to a halt besides a battered green Land Rover but kept the engine running.

  He only hesitated for a moment then nodded. ‘All right, but…thank you, my friend.’

  Marakoff was already getting out of the car. He flipped open the tailgate and Ilena leapt out with her Kalashnikovs.

  ‘Clear.’ Marakoff said.

  ‘Louisa, Mouse,’ Dad said quietly, ‘thank you for everything. Now get out.’ He managed a ghost of a smile.

  Mouse smiled back then twisted around to Jason. ‘Bring that lovely sister of yours out safely, yes? We will see you soon.’

  Without waiting for an answer, he stepped outside a
nd closed the door.

  A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around Jason’s neck. Louisa hugged him tightly for a moment then pulled back.

  ‘Be careful. Come back to… us,’ Louisa whispered then got out.

  Come back to us? Jason thought. He would have preferred “Come back to me.”

  He stopped himself. He, Dad and Miranda might all be killed or captured within the next few minutes and all he could think about was how Louisa felt about him.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Dad said and hit reverse. A moment later he span the wheel and pulled the handbrake and somehow they were speeding back towards the Old Mill.

  ‘Didn’t Marakoff say “the three of us”?’ Jason asked.

  ‘He’ll make his own way there – no sense in letting them know where we all are. Now, check your pistol’s fully loaded and do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you.’

  Dad slapped a fresh magazine into the Kalashnikov with one hand as they swerved into the Old Mill’s gravel drive. Dad span the car again and reversed up by the side of the house.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Jason asked.

  Dad scanned the garden through all of the windows. ‘We just go into the wheelhouse, see who’s got Miranda and get her out.’

  Jason nodded. ‘What if Brash gets here before we’ve managed that?’

  Dad looked out at the brightening sky. It could only be minutes before dawn. He reached over into the back seat next to Jason for his Katana. ‘He’ll be weak from holding Nazahirim for so long, drained of far more energy than I lost from holding him for those few minutes. Brash won’t be a problem.’

  ‘And Violet,’ Jason asked, ‘– will she be a “problem”?’

  Dad’s eyes flicked to his katana, then up to Jason. ‘I really hope not.’

  Jason didn’t want to think about seeing Violet again – he couldn’t deal with that now. They just needed to get Miranda out.

  ***

  They both climbed out of the car, guns at the ready. The only sound was the gently stirring leaves above them, bright in the early morning sun.

  Early morning sun – it was dawn.

  Dad touched Jason’s arm. ‘In a few moments you’ll feel a surge – like you feel when someone uses the Gift close to you… but it will be…’