In the hall someone seemed to be reciting something. He recognised words about clauses, sub-clauses and quarantine. The rest was a blur.
He was grabbed on both sides and yanked to his feet. He staggered along between the two Purity officers as they manhandled him through the door, along the passageway and across the broken remains of their lovely front door.
There was a crowd of people standing well back, but watching in avid fascination. People he had known for years, their neighbours, and no one lifting a finger to help him or Amanda. Not even a word of protest. They were all just grateful it wasn’t them. Except for two.
As they threw him into the back of the quarantine van, he caught sight of Colin Thackeray and Chardonnay Jones-Willis with a look of smug satisfaction on their faces. The only thing Mike was grateful for was that he knew they had not caused this. They were merely benefiting from his daughter’s illness, and it could happen just as easily to them.
Wait until they had to deal with Mrs Wilberforce. She really was a nutter.
Chapter 11
Sapphire
She lay in the hot bath in the middle of the day with the wind rattling the windows and leaking through the gaps in cold gusts.
The interview with the police had lasted until past midnight and she had not got to bed until half three. No one at the school was going to argue with her, not that she let them know why she had been at a restaurant with a student. Who had turned out to be a freak.
She could always say that she had been asked to do it by her real bosses. And that would have the benefit of being the factual truth, though she doubted Chris would put it in his report. It didn’t matter, there was no way they would query the Purity. They would take her word for it.
There wasn’t any bubble bath, of course, not on her wages, even with the perks she could afford. She had to weigh up all the luxuries and choose the important ones. Like orange juice and coffee. Instead she had crushed lavender that floated across the surface, shifting and moving as she made waves. The soap was coarse but she liked the feel of it on her skin, and the rough smell. It made her feel strong.
The temperature in the bottom of the bath had become too cold for comfort. She stood up and grabbed the towel from the painted hard-backed chair. Standing in the bath, she wrapped the towel around her shoulders and let the excess water drip from her. She didn’t like dripping water onto the bathroom floor. It made it slippery.
She hooked her foot under the plug chain and pulled it free. A bubble rose up and the water gushed down the hole. As the level dropped she towelled herself dry.
There was something supremely decadent about bathing in the middle of the day.
The water was almost all gone as she got down to her calves. She tossed the towel on to the floor and stepped out on to it to dry the soles of her feet, then finished drying herself.
In the summer she enjoyed being naked in her rooms, but it was too cold now. She fetched her woolly dressing gown, wrapped it around herself and slipped her feet into her fluffy slippers. In the lounge she climbed into her armchair, tucked her feet under her, so they wouldn’t get cold, and relaxed.
She closed her eyes. It wasn’t elegant but it was perfect.
It would have been perfect. If Chloe had been here. Or Emily. She glanced up and looked at the picture on the mantelpiece. Emily had been lovely, but she was gone. Ripped out of Sapphire’s life.
Chloe would never be her, but could have been as fulfilling. But she was gone too.
But Sapphire smiled. Chris had not got her, nor had the kidnappers, and the police were just as helpless. Chloe had escaped them all. Well, that was not quite correct. It was possible the kidnappers had Chloe, but Sapphire doubted it. Chloe knew how to fight and, where Emily had been obedient to everything Sapphire desired, Chloe refused her.
‘Open the fucking door, Saffie, and do it right now!’
The almost perfect day collapsed and sank into a mire of hate and pain.
This time he had not even knocked. Just commanded. She leapt to her feet and rushed to the door. She unlatched it and then remembered she needed to unlock it.
‘I need to get the key,’ she said plaintively and found her coat. She went through every pocket once and then again before she found the keys in the first pocket she’d checked.
She dropped them as she tried to get the key into the lock.
What am I doing?
And hesitated with the key in the lock.
‘Get this fucking door open.’ His voice hissed through the door. He wasn’t shouting and that just made it worse. She turned it.
He rammed it open. And stood there, a seething mass of anger. He back-handed her across the cheek, knocking her out of the way. She staggered away, tears in her eyes. At least she hadn’t cried out.
Stepping inside he slammed the door behind him. He grabbed her by the arm. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘You’re hurting me!’
‘I’ll fucking break it, you stupid bitch.’ He was panting and his face was white with fury. ‘What did you tell that freak?’
Sapphire turned, trying to ease the pressure on her arm. It just made it worse. ‘You’re hurting me.’
She saw the blow coming from the other hand but had no time to defend herself. She felt as if her head would come off. The pain in her arm became unbearable as he forced her across the room to the table. He turned her around and pushed her face-down. His fingers went between her legs and jammed into her. She bit down on a scream. She wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not this time.
‘What did you tell her?’
His fingers twisted agonisingly.
‘What could I tell her? You didn’t tell me your plans.’ She grunted in pain as he turned his fingers again.
‘Enjoying it?’ he said with hint of laughter in his tone.
‘You don’t own me anymore—’ she bit down on the word she did not want to say. ‘—Chris.’
He yanked his fingers away. And got behind her. He thrust hard and fast, only interested in his own satisfaction. At least it was only the bruises that hurt now. She let him do what he wanted.
He came out of the bathroom. She was curled up in the corner. If she had taken a chair he would have hit her again. She was past their relationship; it was him that couldn’t let it go.
‘You told her to run.’
Yes. ‘No.’
‘What game do you think you’re playing, Saffie?’ He twisted her name into an insult. ‘You can’t have her, she’s going to die a nasty death, and one day she’ll be so far gone she’d tear your head off just for the fun of it.’
‘I didn’t tell her to run.’ I told her to get as far away as possible, as far away from you as possible.
‘You better be telling the truth, Saffie, dearest.’ He came over to where she sat and put his foot on her ankle. He ground it down hard. She blinked with the pain but gave no other sign. ‘Because if I ever find out you’ve been lying to me, I’ll hand you over to Research.’
That scared her, but she looked up into his eyes. Not if I kill you first, Chris.
Chapter 12
Dog
It had been dark for an hour. The sky was completely black. Little flakes of white drifted down. Every now and again a gust of wind would send a flurry of them chasing down the street. The only light came from inside the hospital compound behind the ten-foot wall topped with a spiked iron bar.
Dog stared at the gate wondering what the hell he was going to do. Back at the house he had been all bravado and oh yes, Mr Mendelssohn. Trading freaks for munitions was one thing, stealing a truck was another altogether. The freak-boy stood beside him, although what help he could be Dog had absolutely no idea. It was not as if he had ever done anything like this before, but the prospect of coming back empty-handed to Mr Mendelssohn did not appeal.
He had spent the whole afternoon staring at the map, but there really wasn’t that much information available. This was an occasional delivery, and there weren’t guar
ds that followed rigid patterns. It really wasn’t like the movies.
‘Got any ideas?’ he said to his hooded companion. Of course he didn’t, he hadn’t said anything all afternoon, not that he could talk, of course, but he could write and draw. He hadn’t offered any suggestions. Dog couldn’t decide whether the snow was a help or a hindrance, but one thing he did know was that the truck would have a riffy, and the moment it went AWOL, the police were going to be alerted.
The residential area directly around the hospital did not contain any residents. It was something he’d noticed: medical establishments stood on their own regardless of the quality of housing around them. Probably because people didn’t want to be reminded of illness, particularly S.I.D.
Mr Mendelssohn’s details said the truck would only have a driver, and he was going to arrive here at some point soon. The gate would open and he’d go inside. An unloaded truck was of no value, so anything he did, anything they did, would have to happen when the truck arrived. Dog put his head on one side and stared.
There was him, and there was Jason. The kid was fast, but that wasn’t enough on its own. And he was ugly as hell. Shockingly. Which gave Dog an idea. He outlined his plan to his sidekick. It wasn’t so much a plan as a few ideas loosely strung together, but it was better than nothing. The sidekick was going to be doing most of the work; Dog thought that was appropriate, it was the kid getting captured at the fights that meant he now owed so much to Mendelssohn. Jason objected a few times but finally agreed. This wasn’t the time to be shy.
Dog’s feet were going numb when the truck appeared in the road that paralleled the hospital wall from the main road. He took a step back into the shadows of the alleyway, about to say something to Jason, when he realised the kid wasn’t even there anymore. Dog’s nose told him Jason had only just left, and he could trace him by scent if he needed to.
The truck slowed as it approached the turn and its yellow indicator flashed. There was a blur in the snow in front of the truck which Dog took as his signal. He launched himself out of the alley, straight at the passenger door. He heard the thump and saw the shadow land on the front of the vehicle. Jason put his head close to the windscreen and pulled back his hood, letting the light play on his face.
It was at this point Dog expected the vehicle to screech to a halt. But it kept moving at exactly the same pace.
Bloody hell, thought Dog, he’s still got the thing on autopilot. Mendelssohn’s notes said they were supposed to switch to manual on the approach in case of trouble. Maybe the driver had been asleep, but the sound of him screaming indicated he wasn’t asleep now. The truck wasn’t supposed to be moving.
Dog yanked at the door. Thankfully it was unlocked and he dropped the half-brick he’d selected to smash the window if needed. The so-called driver had retreated to the far side of the cab. It was only another ten feet to the gate.
It was exactly that moment a weird smell drifted across Dog’s nose. It was odd enough to make him stop for a moment, but then it was gone. The truck came to a halt and the horn beeped twice. Dog bounded into the cab, not wanting to give the driver any time to recover. Just at that moment the door on the other side opened and the driver, who had been cowering against it, lost his balance and fell out with a soft cry drowned out by the engine noise.
Dog landed in the driving seat; a few moments later Jason arrived in the passenger seat. The engine engaged again. And the vehicle crept forwards. They pulled the doors shut.
‘No,’ said Dog in frustration, ‘stop, you stupid machine!’ The gates into the back of the hospital had opened and the truck was turning into it. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ shouted Dog. ‘Get down!’
He threw himself into the gap below the dashboard, a quick glance told him that Jason had done the same, although he had more space on his side than Dog with all the controls.
The van drove into the compound area. The lights from the building and the pylons shone down through the windows at them. Dog blinked, and saw the green ‘door unlocked’ sign shining next to the main door handle. His hand flashed out and clicked it to the locked position. The light went red and both the door locks clunked.
‘Great,’ said Dog. ‘Now what the hell do we do?’
The truck ground to a halt, the air brakes hissed and he heard the handbrake clunk into position. The engine died. He could also hear the sound of the gate motors whining, until the gates closed with a satisfying clang.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ muttered Dog. He lay there staring up at the underneath of the control console for the vehicle. Something tapped his ankle. He jerked his head up and stared. Jason pointed at the controls. ‘What?’
Jason pointed and poked at the underside of the remote controls then he hit Dog in the leg, hard. He pointed again at the controls.
Dog could not figure out what he was pointing at, if anything. Then he realised the autopilot control was just above him, on the dashboard. All he had to do was reach up and turn it off.
There were noises outside: men talking, the crunching of boots and the whir of machinery. Something with wheels was making its way towards the truck. To unload it.
‘Hello?’ said a voice outside.
Dog reached up and felt along the controls, trying to imagine what they were for by how they felt under his fingers. The vehicle rocked and a face appeared at the window beside him staring in. Dog froze, but the eyes were squinting and somehow couldn’t see them.
There was a banging on the metal gate and shouting from even further away. Someone wanting to be let in, shouting his truck had been hijacked. The face at the window looked away.
Dog squirmed and got himself up on the seat as fast as he could. He disengaged the autopilot, and hit the engine start button. It roared into life.
His movement inside the cab, and the engine starting up, made the man on the door look in again. Dog clearly heard a long string of expletives erupting from the mouth only a few inches from his right ear, even through the glass.
‘Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?’ said Dog to no one in particular. The truck was a manual, and he stared at the controls for a long moment. The instructions for gear position on top of the gearstick had been rubbed smooth, but there were only a couple of possibilities. He slammed his foot down on the clutch, and thrust the gearstick to the left and forwards. With the engine roaring he engaged the clutch and was very satisfied when the vehicle bumped forwards, though not as far as he expected.
‘Handbrake, got to let off the handbrake,’ he said to himself. It was on the other side by the door. He pressed the button on the end and let it go. The truck roared forward toward a wall. Dog crushed the brake into the floor. The man on the side fell off, and the engine died.
There was a slight motion to his left and Dog glanced that way. Jason had got up too, but the way his eyes were looking at Dog, he felt as if he was being criticised.
‘Can you do any better?’
Jason shrugged and sat back. He grabbed the safety belt from the side and plugged it in.
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ said Dog as he hit the engine start button again. The motor picked up where it left off. There were battering noises on the doors and the window on Jason’s side smashed in. Dog managed to locate reverse and slammed it into gear with a grinding noise.
‘Get out of the van and nobody gets hurt,’ said a voice through the broken window.
Dog floored the accelerator. The truck leapt backward. There were shouts and screams from behind, but thankfully no sound of someone getting hit or squashed. The windscreen shattered and the cold snowy air blew in. The sound of the gunshot was deafening. But it was quickly drowned out by the noise of the truck smashing backward through metal gates. The vehicle shuddered and lost speed; there was a screeching and scraping as it tumbled out onto the street between the wrecked gates. He came to a sudden crashing halt as it hit the house on the far side.
‘That’d be a million points on my licence,’ said Dog. He wrenched th
e steering wheel to the left, changed gear and launched the truck along the side road. Another shot tore through the roof of the cab. ‘If I had a licence.’
Dog negotiated the gears up into fourth until he was roaring along the side of the hospital.
‘We need to disable the riffy,’ said Dog. Mr Mendelssohn’s information had details about the truck: it was so old it had a transmitting riffy instead of a modern passive device, which meant they could disable it easily. ‘See if the fuse box is on your side.’
It could have his been his imagination, but Dog could have sworn there was a hesitation before Jason released his seat belt. ‘Everyone’s a bloody critic.’
Dog kept his eyes on the road and didn’t slow down when they reached the main road at the end. He swung the truck left and accelerated again. Minutes later he was at the next junction and made another left. In the snow and the dark it was difficult to see much, especially with the cold and the snow pouring in through the front. He glanced down at Jason under the dashboard at the front. ‘Did you find it?’
The response was a thumbs up that lasted a fraction of a second. The vehicle lights went out.
‘I could do with the lights.’ The lights came back on. The engine coughed and died. ‘Engine electrics!’ They were coasting. Dog let the clutch out again, the truck jerked and restarted the engine with a roar. Jason re-emerged and threw a bunch of fuses through his broken window. ‘You took out everything we don’t need?’
He got another thumbs up. ‘Okay, sounds good.’ They came to a large roundabout where he saw a sign to an industrial estate. He headed for it.
‘These places are usually warrens,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘We’ll leave the truck there, and hide out nearby. If the police turn up we know you missed it. If nobody comes we know it’s safe. At least in this snow they won’t be using drones or ’copters to follow us.’
Dog spun the wheel as he saw another sign for the industrial estate and within minutes the truck was hidden between two large buildings. Dog and Jason waited in the cold of the warehouse doorway.
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