Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2)

by Ian Chapman

  The band finished. Becky applauded, staring at me, a look that was hard to work out.

  The waiter brought our drinks. Becky drank and so did I. As the band started to play again, she leant over, her breath warm on my neck. ‘I’m not going to mess with you, Trent. I think I can trust you. We have to get Casper out. Get the Eblis. We’re on our way somewhere…’ She sat back and gave me that look again, tilting her head a little, reading my reaction.

  ‘Go on.’

  Leaning in again, she put her mouth even closer to my ear. ‘I’d like you in with us, Trent, you could add something to what we’re doing.’

  And she needed me to get Casper out.

  ‘We’re going somewhere amazing. Really special.’ Then she sat back and drank, giving some kind of a smile, a faint one, but her eyes soft. The band stopped and the audience clapped. One of the musicians said something about an intermission. There was more applause. The sound of people talking.

  Becky shuffled round so she was close to me, her thigh pressed against mine. ‘You’re not like the others here, Trent. Round Up and their like. You don’t belong here.’

  ‘You don’t know me.’

  ‘But you know what I mean.’

  I knew all right. But I was still wary. She was feeding me what I wanted to hear. Buttering me up. ‘So what are you suggesting.’

  ‘Help get Casper out. And the Eblis. Come with us.’

  We sat there for a good minute, as she played with her glass, let me think through her offer. It was tempting. Leave Faeston and Round Up for somewhere else. With her and her brother. He was the worst thing about the deal. Him and the hassle getting him out, of course.

  ‘We’d never get him out,’ I said.

  ‘I can help with that.’

  ‘It’s not like we can just walk out with him.’

  ‘With you help we’ll be fine.’

  ‘And what is this place you’re going to?’

  ‘A town. In Scotland. Somewhere where they are doing it all right. Working together not against each other.’

  It was interesting but I didn’t need her and Casper. I had money and the Scrambler. There was nothing stopping me leaving town. Getting on the road again. Finding this place.

  Becky stared into her glass and turned it slowly. ‘Think about it, Trent.’

  ‘Listen.’ I wanted to slow this down, go off and think about it. Then the band started to play again. As they came on Becky gave me funny looks. This was the jumpiest I’d seen her.

  Finishing my whisky I put the glass down. A waiter passed by I waved him over and asked for the same again, ordering Becky another beer. Maybe what she offered was what I needed. Something different, some purpose. No more wandering alone or working for people like Nico.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  We were very close. She leant forward as if to whisper in my ear but kissed me on the cheek. I looked at her and she kissed me on the lips, putting her hands on mine.

  When the waiter arrived with our drinks we separated.

  The trumpeter played a solo and people cheered. I closed my eyes and put a hand against my temple. I saw the three lads on the settee. Two white faced, terrified. The third dead.

  ‘Trent?’

  I opened my eyes. ‘What’s your plan?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your plan? To get Casper out.’

  She waved her hand, dismissive as it if was obvious. ‘I have stuff we can use. You know the layout…’

  The band stopped. I knocked back my whisky then stood up. ‘I need to go.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’ve had enough.’

  She joined me as I settled our bill. Left the club. I’d really had enough to drink. And my head was spinning from everything else. We stood outside. The sun had set and there were more candles lit outside the bars and cafes. The lights around the harbour shone up from Low Town. The rest of it was invisible.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said.

  ‘It sounds like something.’

  She was watching me again. ‘What now?’

  ‘Time to go.’

  We moved onto the Walkway, by a mosaic of Poseidon. She shuffled around and didn’t make eye contact. ‘Are you going to help?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll see.’

  She smiled and moved over to me, putting her arms around me, kissing me again. This time full on the lips with more passion. When she moved back her eyes were red rimmed, as if she was going to cry. ‘We need to do it soon.’

  ‘Right.’

  As she moved off she leant back to me, her mouth by my ear again. ‘Thanks for all your help.’ Then she kissed me on the cheek and walked off.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Torture

  I DIDN’T SLEEP WELL that night. I was woken by nightmares then lay in my room as the sounds of Faeston drifted in: trains on their way down from Scotland. Ships making ready to sail. Everyone in the town seemed to be moving around.

  I went to Round Up Central first thing. I wanted to meet Casper again. Gregg was in the office with Tyler and some lad I didn't know. They told me that Nico was across town at the Globe.

  Gregg grinned at me. He seemed to have forgotten our altercation from the day before. ‘Spent a bit of time with your mate last night.’

  ‘My mate?’

  ‘The prisoner. Got him singing.’

  This wasn’t something I wanted. ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Propped him up. Didn't let him sleep, eat, drink.’

  ‘He say much?’ If Casper had mentioned our chat, about Becky, that was it. Nico would be on to me.

  ‘Nah. Whining on about bein’ tired. Something about wanting to go home. Think he’s near breaking though.’ Gregg thought this was great, grinning away. Tyler and the other man laughed, seeing it as a big joke.

  ‘I’ll go see him now. Try to get something out of him.’

  Gregg thrust a pencil and pad of paper at me, said no more. He led me out and along the corridor, swinging his keys, whistling a tune. At the door he grunted. ‘As soon as he starts talking I’m to be called.’ He unlocked the door. ‘Nico’s orders.’

  Nico’s orders. They were keeping an eye on me.

  As before there were two guards in the cell. One I recognised from the previous day, the one who’d spoken, but the other I’d not seen before. Casper was sitting at the table, his head slumped on his hands.

  ‘He’s meant to stand up!’ said Gregg.

  ‘Leave him,’ I said. ‘I want to talk to him.’

  ‘Nico said —’

  ‘Leave him, please.’

  I sat opposite Casper, the pad in front of me. ‘How are you?’

  He glanced up, one eyebrow raised, then lay back down on his hands moving his head from side to side. ‘Uh, Christ,’ he said.

  ‘Time for another chat.’

  He sat up and yawned. His tongue was coated white, eyes bloodshot. He dropped his head forward onto his arms taking deep breaths.

  He’d been kept awake for days now. It wouldn’t be long before he really broke. Told them how to get into the Eblis and all about Becky. All about me.

  I glanced back up at the guards. They seemed to be staring into space. Not watching me and Casper. They were probably tired as well. Bored shitless. I spoke in a loud voice. ‘I need to know what’s going on.’

  He shook his head. Maybe he’d heard me and was responding or maybe it was just a comfort thing.

  ‘Casper, this is important.’

  When he raised his head one eye was half shut.

  Then he slumped down, flat out on the table.

  I asked stuff about the tank and where he’d come from, leaning forward nodding, writing notes, even though Casper was breathing deeply, probably asleep. Which was good. If he rested he’d be able to hold himself together for another day.

  After forty minutes, when he sounded like he was snoring I nudged him. ‘This better all be true,’ I sai
d.

  He started and sat up. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  Blinking like mad he nodded and lay back down.

  I gripped the pad and stood up. The guards looked at me and I eyeballed each in turn. Then I went to the door and knocked until Gregg came.

  He opened it a couple of centimetres, no more. ‘Is he talking?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I grabbed hold of the door and yanked it wide then walked out, pushing him aside. ‘I’ve taken notes.’

  ‘You were to call me when he talked!’

  ‘There wasn’t time.’

  ‘Nico will hear —’

  ‘I’ve got notes. For Nico. I’ll pass them on to him.’

  Before he could ask anymore I was off. I was in no mood for Gregg to have a go. Bollock me for not letting him into the cell.

  Outside I screwed up the crap I’d written and threw it into the gutter. A cart rattled past full of mangy looking turnips. Casper wasn’t going to last much longer. I’d given him a break but he’d gone for days without sleep. Soon Nico would get details out of him. Details about my involvement.

  I had to do something.

  We’d have to break him free. Getting him out would be a miracle. Without thinking about it I’d got caught up in this.

  Last night I’d dreamt about Becky. Me and her in bed together. Partway through the sub had appeared again. Not like the dream I’d had in Sophie’s, more bizarre, with me floating in the water, alongside it. As it dived I was swept underwater with it, swirling and turning. Maybe it meant something.

  More likely it was from all the booze I’d had.

  Several boys grabbed turnips off the cart, running away with them.

  So Becky had arrived and wanted me to go with her on this mission of hers. We’d break Casper out and run off into the wilds.

  Just like that.

  As the farmer spotted the lads he stopped the cart and jumped off, running after them. But they were too fast.

  I started to walk home. Maybe Becky had just been messing me around. Playing games to get me to help her. She was interesting and attractive. Good to spend time with. But not worth getting killed for. Not many women were, if any.

  But I was ready to go. Ready to leave the town and happy to give Round Up a bloody nose on the way. If she had some kind of a serious plan, some ideas about getting the tank and going then it was worth hearing.

  If she didn’t, that was that. I’d take my chances on Casper not talking. Leave when I was ready.

  I turned round and headed across town. Towards High Town.

  When I got to the Bay Hotel I went straight in. I remembered her room number from when she’d mentioned it in the bar.

  Room twelve was on the first floor at the far end, by a cracked window that looked out across the town. I thumped on the door, rattling it in the frame. It was patched with an uneven piece of wood at the bottom, the number written in neat paint. From other rooms I could hear voices, someone singing way off, a slow tune. Maybe Becky was still asleep: it was only midmorning. Or maybe wasn’t here, hadn't ever been. It might have all been a trick by Round Up, a test. One I’d failed.

  Maybe I should just turn and go.

  The door opened. Becky stood there with a towel wrapped around her, a crease of cleavage showing, her hair wet and eyelashes matted. She smelled of soap. ‘Trent?’ She glanced past me, up and down the passageway then waved her hand at me. ‘Come in.’

  I followed through into the main room. There was a window that looked out to sea where a couple of ships made their way in towards the harbour. The bed was strewn with maps and plans of buildings. Old magazines. There were pieces of paper on the coffee table with motorcycle components on them. Two panniers and a rucksack were packed beside it. Black bra and knickers lay upon folded clothes on a pillow.

  ‘You planning to leave?’ I said.

  ‘Just been waiting for you.'

  ‘I didn't even know I was coming.’

  She smiled. ‘I just need to finish washing…’ She adjusted the towel, tucking it into her cleavage. Then she went into the bathroom.

  I rested back in the seat and closed my eyes. Around me were the sounds of the building, footsteps and chairs scraping. Shouts and slamming doors. If I was going to go along with this I needed a lot more information. Where, why and how. If she gave the wrong answers that would be it. I’d ride off alone.

  I jerked up when she came back in, still in the towel but now with her hair wrapped up as well.

  ‘Should we thrash out the details?’ she said.

  ‘I have a few questions.’

  She sat down, unfolding a map and setting it out on the floor. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Say we get Casper out —’

  ‘Which we will.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  She went across to the bed, picked up a magazine and handed it to me. It was a holiday brochure, decades old.

  ‘Page forty-two,’ she said.

  I turned to the page she’d said. It had pictures of a castle surrounded by trees. A loch and small village. Smiling men with bagpipes. A plate full of seafood. A red deer with massive antlers. ‘What the fuck is this?’

  ‘There’s a community there. A group of forward-thinkers. They have forests for fuel. Water they can fish. Farm with healthy animals. Good housing. It’s all run through an elected council. And they welcome decent people. It’s not like here with Round Up.’

  ‘Sounds too good to be true.’

  ‘The problem is its location. On the west coast of Scotland. You have to pass round Glasgow or Edinburgh and across country. A couple of other dangerous places. That’s why we need the Eblis.’

  ‘And you’ve been there? Seen it?’

  ‘I know reliable people who have.’

  I flicked through the photos of the place in this holiday brochure. It was possible that it did exist. That there were people trying to move things forward. Shangri-La had elements of it, Gary’s oasis in the far north of Northumberland. But it was too wrapped up in hippy stuff for me. ‘Is this a religious cult?’

  She frowned and shook her head. ‘Not at all.’ She sat down on the bed and faced me. ‘We’ve had enough of all this.’ She waved her hand towards Low Town. ‘Places run by thugs. So-called committees that are just gangs in disguise. Neo-reivers.’ She shrugged.

  Maybe that was all genuine. I still had one more question.

  ‘Why me?’

  Reaching over to one of the panniers she opened it and pulled out a handgun: a semi-automatic pistol. Her towel slid up on her legs the showing the top of her thighs. She checked the gun over, dropped the magazine out, popped it back in. ‘You know your way around stuff, seem reliable…’

  I shook my head. ‘Come on. You zoomed in on me at the bike races. Just by chance I was the guy ready to interrogate Casper.’

  ‘Maybe I did some sniffing around. Found out who ran the town. How things worked. I did figure out you were in Round Up, but I didn’t know you’d be doing the questioning.’

  ‘And what about me coming with you?’

  ‘That wasn’t the initial plan.’ She put the pistol away and started clearing stuff off the bed, putting it all on the floor. ‘I was after someone in Round Up who could give me inside details. Information. You just happened to have more about you. A good feeling, shall we say.’

  ‘A good feeling?’

  ‘I knew you’d help us. Get Casper out.’

  ‘I haven’t said I’ll help.’

  She smiled. ‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ She reached down to a bag on the floor and pulled out another gun. Then a grenade. ‘I have the kit and a plan. Bring your bike over and we’ll talk it through.’

  ‘Look, trying to get Casper out is possible but we’ll never get the tank. No way —’

  ‘We’ll talk about it when you come back.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  She refastened the bag. As she leant forward the top of her towel came undone, slipping
down a little, showing her body underneath, still damp from the bath. She took hold of the towel again but instead of doing it up just pulled it off. She stood in front of me naked. She looked fantastic, her skin smooth and soft and with a hint of tan, natural colour. She had curves but there was a firmness to her body, strength. She took my hand and I resisted. Pulled free. She was sexy but this was taking me all in the wrong direction.

  ‘You don’t find me attractive?’

  ‘It’s not that —’

  ‘Come on, Trent…’

  ‘I don’t want to complicate things.’

  She lay down on the bed on her side with a leg crooked up, one arm across her nipples and the other on her crotch, hiding the thin strip of hair. ‘You sure?’

  ‘I need to go,’ I backed off towards the door, my eyes fixed on her body, part of me wanting to stay there with her. Spend the rest of the morning in bed. But I knew that would really cloud my thoughts and I needed a clear head.

  Becky got up and slid the towel on following me to the door. ‘Listen, Trent, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea, I —’

  ‘It’s fine.’ I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

  She stopped in the doorway. ‘Think it through. I’ll wait for you. Here.’ She smiled. Some kind of smile I couldn’t figure out.

  ‘All right.’ But I was already on my way towards the stairs.

  As I crossed town I thought it all through. Becky and Casper and their plans. Round Up and Sophie and Faeston. There was too much going on. Too much I didn’t like. Round Up had stepped up a gear. And Sophie was getting all settled, with me woven into her nest. In some ways Becky’s plan had come at just the right time. Appealing as it was to go off with her there were too many loose ends. Too many unknowns. Getting Casper out was going to be hard. And he was some fella. Some piece. But once we were out we’d be in the Eblis. We’d be able to go anywhere. I’d be much safer than on the bike.

  But I had to go where they wanted, at their pace. I wasn’t one for taking orders and fitting in. That was why I hated Round Up.

  Maybe I was best going off on my own, same as I always had. I wasn’t quite ready to go but I’d soon have enough cash together to see me safe. Maybe do some final patch-ups on the Scrambler.