Think.
How the hell am I going to get out of here?
She knew she should ring the police. Every time she raised her phone to do just that, she started to shake. What if one of those things was outside, waiting for her to make a noise? Someone else would have rung the police. Definitely. There were loads of people in this service station. Hundreds, probably. One of them would be ringing and help would be coming now. She just had to wait, be patient.
Jake would ring them. Or his mum would. Jake would be her hero and she would let him do what he wanted. Yep, no doubt about that at all. Then, if she were ever in this situation again, at least she wouldn't die a virgin.
Ever in this situation again? Jesus Harriet.
What if no-one else was ringing? What if she were the only one left alive? What then? What if Jake had stopped watching? Got bored and started playing FIFA? What if he hadn't seen the fat woman change?
Then you will die here.
Tears started to roll down her cheeks again. At this rate, she would die of dehydration before the wolf things got to her. She smiled to herself: that was the sort of joke her dad would have made.
Which made more tears come.
Get a grip. Ring the police.
Harriet took a deep breath and raised her phone to dial. It started buzzing in her hands: replies to the texts were coming in. She gripped it tightly, trying to stop the noise.
HA-HA, GOOD ONE HARRI.
NOT FUNNY.
WHY ARE PIRATES CALLED PIRATES?
Three different people, none of them helpful. With a finger that was trembling way too much, she dialled the emergency number and then the door to her cubicle was ripped off its hinges.
She started to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. It was the man. The one who had stared at her dad and then-
“Do not scream,” he said. “If you want to get out of here alive, do not scream.”
He released the pressure on her mouth slowly, waiting to see what she would do.
“Good girl,” he said. “Does that have a camera on it?”
It took her a moment to realise he was talking about her phone. She nodded.
“Film this,” he ordered. She started to shake her head, but he stared at her. Her teachers stared like that sometimes: well, not exactly like that. She pointed the phone at him.
“Stadler, I'm coming for you,” he said and grinned. Then he took the phone off her, pressed share then put it next to the sink outside the cubicle. “Come on,” he waved an arm at her and after a moment she stepped out of the cubicle.
“What’s your name?”
“Harriet.”
“Hi, I'm Jamie. Listen, we're going to go outside in a moment. I will create a diversion and you can run away, clear?”
She shook her head. “Why are you helping me?”
“Harriet, I've done some bad things. If I can save you, then maybe it will help balance my books.”
She didn't understand what he meant, but she focussed on ‘save you'. This man was going to save her life.
“Wait here,” he said. “I'll come and get you as soon as I know it’s clear.”
She started to protest, but he left anyway. She sank against the wall, feeling fresh tears in her eyes.
11
Bryant stood outside the toilets and surveyed the scene. This was a hastily put together plan, which meant it had holes. It will have to do.
The services were essentially a long corridor. The toilets were roughly half way along that corridor. On his left were the gents, then WH Smiths. Opposite him was the food hall where he had sat with Joe and Henry and next to that a phone shop. Adjacent to the phone shop was the cafe, where he had first met Michael. If he carried on to the left, then he would reach the car park; if he turned right it would be the coach park.
Most of the wolves were in the cafe, telling jokes and tall tales. The aftermath of any conflict was like that, even when it was as one-sided as this. He counted three groups of wolves sniffing around the shops. A flight of stairs sat opposite him, between the shops. One of the groups went up these stairs, presumably looking for more survivors.
Michael had moved from the exit and was now talking to the fat bitch that had started this madness. Kneeling next to them were the five survivors. Good, this might work after all.
He slipped back into the toilets and found Harriet slumped on the floor, tears rolling down her face. She wasn't making a sound, though. Tough girl. He helped her to her feet and grinned at her. For a moment, he saw the gorgeous woman she wouldn't become.
“When I say, you run out of here, turn right and keep running. You will reach the coach park, but head left towards the grass bank. The motorway is the other side of it. The state of you, someone will stop. OK?”
“I'm not very fast,” she whispered. She was looking at her clothes, and the expression on her face showed she had just realised she was covered in blood.
“You don't need to be,” he said. “Just keep running.”
She nodded.
“Ready?”
She nodded again.
“Ok then.” He looked out of the opening for the toilets, then turned to her and said, “Now!”
12
Harriet ran. She tried not to look and just sprinted for the door.
-dead bodies-
It looked so far away, like a zoom shot in a cheap horror film.
-so much blood-
She heard a shout behind her and knew they were coming. From somewhere deep inside, she found more pace: a burst of speed that her PE teacher would have been both proud of and surprised at.
She crashed through the doors, flinging them open and stumbling into daylight. Lorries sat in parallel lines, dwarfing her as she sprinted towards them. This isn't right. He said there would be a bank, a way to the motorway. Fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, she ran on. Her legs were burning, her lungs screaming for air. Then her legs gave way, and she tumbled to the asphalt. The skin on her palms and knees ripped away, but she didn't care. The pain was irrelevant anyway. Her parents were gone. Her brother was gone. She would never see her friends again. Jake would move on - would he even remember her in a year?
The wolves got closer: she heard their breathing, could hear the pad of their feet as they approached.
She closed her eyes and waited.
13
The girl ran with surprising speed. Bryant watched her go and grinned as the wolves gave chase. The ones standing with Michael all watched the commotion and started shouting orders at the rest of the pack. Bryant strolled the other way, towards the car park. No-one stopped him or challenged him, until he reached the door.
“Hey-”
He heard the shout behind him and then ran through the doors and out into the car park. Unlike the girl, he could run for a very long time if he had to. A car pulled up in front of the entrance and the door flew open.
“Come with me if you want to live,” Joe said with a grin. Bryant leapt into the car and they were moving before he shut the door. He looked in the wing mirror and saw the wolves coming out of the service station and running for the car. Three of them, closing fast.
“Go faster,” he said. Joe pressed his foot down and the car lurched forward with a growl.
“German engineering,” he said with another grin. “They know fuck all about wolves, but you gotta love their cars.” He patted the BMW sign in the middle of the steering wheel. The car was soon clear of the car park and hurtling down the slip road and straight onto the motorway. No police cars blocked their way here and it took Bryant a moment to realise that there was no need. The barricade only needed to be on the entrance slip road. Joe sounded the horn as he went across two lanes. Horns were sounded in return, and brakes screeched, but somehow no-one crashed. After a couple of miles, Joe slowed down to a more normal pace and moved into the middle lane.
“So, we still going after Stadler?”
Bryant looked out the window for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “Take us t
o Huntleigh.”
Chapter 16
1
Jack stood, watching the door. They were coming for him and coming soon. They are going to cut me open. He knew it was the sensible course of action for them and really, if it was him, he would do the same, but that didn't make him feel any better. Will I heal? Knowles had reminded him that there was so much unknown about being an Original. If they slice me up, will I put myself back together? What if they cut into my brain? What then?
He watched the clock tick towards 8:30 and the anxiety grew. Deep inside him, the Wolf sensed this. Jack tried to keep calm: he controlled the Wolf, not the other way round. Nonetheless, the nerves fed the Wolf.
The soldiers were coming at 8:30, that’s what Knowles had said. Was he helping now? Does he want me to escape? Jack swallowed hard. He could hear men talking outside the building, but even with his hearing, it was too muffled to be clear. If I run where will I go? Can I find Bryant? Jack was sure he could. Find Bryant and then what? Persuade him to give himself up? Jack snorted: Bryant did not seem like the ‘give it up’ type. But what choice did he have? He had to try. He took a deep breath, getting himself ready.
They were coming now.
2
Knowles stood outside the detention block and watched the squad come towards him. They were dressed from head to foot in Kevlar and looked more like a bomb disposal team than escort detail. He knew Taylor by reputation. He was a man going places. Taylor had led some teams on tough anti-insurgency patrols. Rumour had it he had taken out some high-ranking Al-Qaeda member, but it was just a rumour. Tellingly, Taylor had arrived after Bryant’s escape. He carried himself with an arrogance that irritated Knowles instantly. Wait until you get your arse kicked by these things, mate.
“He will be waiting for you,” Knowles said to the man at the head, stepping calmly in front of him.
“We have our orders, Knowles, move,” Taylor said.
“He will kill you all.”
“No, he won't.” Taylor pointed at his team and gestured to the many weapons they all carried.
“They didn't work last time,” Knowles said.
“So how are you still with us then?”
Knowles didn't answer.
Taylor laughed. “Everyone knows you like the guy, Knowles. We all know you'd do anything to keep him alive. After all, he saved you didn't he?”
“Is that what you think?” Knowles snarled.
“We all know, Knowles.”
“All you really know is that you are taking a man - a civilian, a teacher, for fuck’s sake - to be cut open.”
“Just following orders, Knowles. Now move.”
Knowles stepped to one side, glaring at the man. The rest of the squad trooped into the building. Maybe one of them now has more doubts about what they are doing.
Knowles leant on the wall of the makeshift prison. His weapon sat in its holster, its presence heavy on his hip. How far are you going to go?
3
The key turned in the lock, the mechanism groaning as it slid back. Jack winced at the sudden loud noise. The door swung open quickly and Jack just had time to see four guns aimed straight at his chest. The Wolf started to burst out of him just as all four guns went off.
Four tranquiliser darts smacked into its chest and with a whimper, it skidded to a stop in the doorway.
4
Knowles watched as four men, straining under the weight of the massive Wolf, came out of the cells carrying a stretcher. The Wolf was far too big for it, which made the whole thing somehow comical.
“Your pet dog thought it could attack us.” Taylor was smirking, but sweat was beading on his brow.
Knowles said nothing, just watched the men struggle away. So he did change, but they were prepared. Shit.
He was trying to think what to do next when his radio burst into life.
“Knowles, Raymond’s office immediately.”
Swearing again, Knowles jogged across the base. He marched in and saluted smartly, but was surprised by how grim Raymond’s face was. Now what?
5
“We have a situation in Kent, Knowles,” Raymond said. “A service station is under attack from wolves. A video has been released to the web. This is not good.”
He turned his laptop screen so Knowles could see it. The image was grainy and shook slightly, making Knowles feel nauseous. A fat lady was taking her clothes off, which would have been bad enough, but what happened next was becomingly increasingly familiar.
“When was this?” Knowles asked.
“It was posted about an hour ago. Police were called about ten minutes before that. They have cut off the service station and have set up a perimeter around it.”
“Deaths?”
Raymond nodded. “No idea at the moment; potentially a couple of hundred.”
“Jesus.”
“Quite,” Raymond said. “I have sent a team to advise.”
But not me. That hurt - a surprising amount.
“The team should be there any minute and will be in contact as soon as they have more info.”
“Why not-”
Raymond laughed, cutting him off. “You think I should send you? Despite the fact that the last time I did so, you ended up blowing up a house that could have been full of civilians?”
“But it wasn't, sir.”
“You got lucky, Knowles. You are too twitchy around these wolves. You could cause a blood bath.”
“With respect sir, it looks like there’s already been one.”
“Yes, and I don't want that situation any worse.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Resign?”
Knowles swallowed hard. “I don’t want to resign sir.”
“Then what are you offering?”
Knowles paused. It was an excellent question. If he left, then they would kill Jack. If he stayed, then Jack would probably be killed anyway. If he left, then maybe he could get his career back on track. Maybe.
“Sir, killing Stadler is not the answer to this problem.”
“I never said it was.”
“No, but if you cut him open, that’s not going to stop this.” He gestured at the laptop, at the scenes of slaughter that were on a loop.
“Know your enemy, Knowles.”
Raymond stared at him until Knowles dropped his eyes. “I have delayed the vivisection. This needs my attention.” He waited until Knowles returned his gaze. “But know this, we will look at Stadler. We will know what’s inside of him.”
Knowles nodded. He had a few hours at most to think of something else.
“Is Bryant in Kent sir? Did he do this?”
Raymond watched the loop for a few seconds before answering. “He’s not in this video.” He blinked several times and for the first time, Knowles had an inkling of the strain he was under.
“This is somebody else.”
6
Knowles spent the next two hours watching the screen. Raymond had it split in two: one half was dedicated to footage from his team on the ground, the other to the breaking news on the BBC News 24 channel. Every time they showed the grainy footage of the attack, Raymond swore. The journalists had tracked down the boy who had posted it: a sporty looking teenager with a quiff that Elvis would have envied. He spoke well, even if he was in a state of shock.
Raymond had his net experts tracking down the footage and destroying it as soon as it appeared, but the fact the BBC had it was a major problem. A cover story was being put together now: a cover-up involving a film production company. It would buy them some time to cover the actual cause of death of the people in the service station. The girl’s phone footage was more of a problem, although social media reports showed that most of her friends had thought she was joking.
“I should be there,” Knowles muttered, not for the first time.
“Shut up, Knowles.”
Raymond’s phone rang at that moment. He scowled at it before answering.
“Raymond,” he said then listen
ed intently for a moment. “Yes, go ahead. Bring the survivors here.” He hung up.
“They're going in?” Knowles asked.
Raymond was silent for so long that Knowles thought he hadn't heard him. “Yes, they're going in now. Hopefully, we can resolve this without more civilian deaths.”
7
Jack awoke and discovered that he was strapped to a table. He looked around, surprised that he was still alive. Around him were many monitors and medical machines. He recognised some from the medical dramas that Katie liked to watch, but he had no idea what any of them did.
Next to his bed was a table covered in white plastic. On top of the table lay enough scalpels and saws to have made the Spanish Inquisition wince.
“Shit,” Jack said.
“He’s awake!”
The man who spoke sounded panicked. Jack heard footsteps running towards him.
“Wait-” he got as far as saying before another load of tranquiliser darts smashed into his chest and the world disappeared again.
8
Knowles looked at his watch. An hour had passed since the phone call. He knew that was bad: these sorts of operations should be over in a matter of minutes. He was just about to voice this opinion when both his and Raymond’s radios squawked.
“We have the survivors coming in now sir.”
Raymond held his unit up. “How many?”
“Sir, we have Corporal Wallace on the gate. He has two lorries full of survivors. When they hit the building, it was chaos. They didn't know who was who, so they used tranquillisers and brought everyone here.”
“Why did he not report in sooner?” Raymond barked.
“Sir, he felt radio silence was the best policy. Too many journalists trying to listen in.”
Raymond looked at Knowles with eyebrows raised.
The Original's Return (Book 2): The Original's Retribution Page 13