With a wince, Johan began a slow jog up the street away from Simon. The pain gradually subsided with each step, and his speed increased. He looked back once. Simon watched him go.
Sucker, Johan thought with a pang of regret.
Hearing a shout, he veered to the left, heading down a side street. He lengthened his stride, ignoring the slight protest from his swaying testicles. A little more abuse wouldn’t do any real harm. He shot down the street, his coat billowing out behind him.
He skidded to a stop at the corner.
The buildings were spread apart like teeth in a broken mouth. The park, a green jewel in the middle of the grey city, lay between. They spent a lot of time in the area. Being surrounded by the derelict areas the park guaranteed privacy. Occasionally, some stray beauty would get lost or try a shortcut and come wandering into their territory. Those times, Johan thought, the gods were smiling down on him. Easy pickings.
On the edge of the park grounds, Spence, Richie and Kev loitered on the grass. Each looked in the same direction, towards a small patch of woodland. They covered their eyes from the glare of the last street light.
Breathing deeply through his nose, Johan approached them.
“Well?” he demanded, his voice showing only the slightest sign of exertion. “Where is she?”
Richie pointed towards the woods.
Johan looked at the dark island of trees in the sea of dark fields and swallowed.
“You let her get away in there?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe this! Of all the places…”
“You want us to go after her?” asked Kev. His chubby cheeks had flushed a deep red and his wide chest rose and fell with rattling breaths.
“If you know what’s good for you,” said Johan. “I don’t think you’ll like prison food.”
He walked through them, roughly barging into Spence. The three tagged on alongside him, heading for the dark expanse of trees on the far side of the park.
In the dark, one aging building looked the same as its neighbours to Nat as she fled down the empty streets. The soles of her feet had grown sore from running without her shoes, the pavement taking a harsh toll.
She turned left, running past a small and vacant car park.
Did we pass that on the way here?
Slowing to a walk, she looked behind her. No one followed. She scanned the road ahead for anything familiar.
She arrived at a crossroads. An old pub stood on one corner, its door and windows boarded up, paint faded and flaking. Its sign, hanging from rusty hinges, swayed in the slightest of breezes. The corroded metal creaked in a slow rhythm.
Nat stopped and turned full circle. Each road leading away from the crossroads appeared the same. She strained to listen for passing traffic in the distance, but silence prevailed. The moon, her only observer, peeked down from between two four-story buildings. It felt like days since Gordon had pointed out its beauty.
Completely lost in her city, Nat shook her head and chose the road to the right.
She checked over her shoulder again. Neither Johan or any of his boys had followed her, nor had the whistling man.
Don’t relax too soon, she told herself. You need to get home first.
She quickened her pace.
Hell, you need to find civilisation first.
Ahead, a building with an aged majesty split the road like a rock in a river. It may have been a bank before the city deteriorated. Nat walked down the right branch of the fork.
She stumbled and cried out as pain erupted in her foot. Using the wall for support, she pulled her leg up and studied her sole. A stone, narrow and sharp, had penetrated the skin and stuck out like a splinter. Hissing through gritted teeth, she plucked it out and threw it on the pavement. A tiny bead of blood oozed out of the pinprick hole.
“Damn it!” she said, dropping her shoes on the floor and stepping into them.
Continuing, the steady noise of her heels on the pavement made her feel even more alone, even more vulnerable.
But better than stepping on something again, she thought. God knows what stuff is lying around.
Her thoughts turned back to what had gone on between Simon and Johan.
They had that old woman, that Agnes, on the floor.
Thinking back to events in The Fourth Dimension, she remembered how Johan’s friends had deliberately tried to get the woman drunk. They’d done a good job too, judging by the state she left in. It was planned. Whatever they did to her, it was premeditated.
Mother, beaten and left for dead…
She thought about Simon. He’d been with her all night, and he did look terrified when Johan had entered. Could he have been involved in all of this?
The street turned to the right, and following the corner around, Nat was surprised to see The Fourth Dimension up ahead.
“Ah fuck!”
She paused to look around and try and regain a sense of direction, unsure how she’d doubled back and come full circle.
She hurried down the street towards the bar. The lights were off inside. She guessed that Bubba had locked up for the night. She imagined him still sitting by the bar drinking rum.
She approached the street where she’d left Simon.
I will never, ever come back here, she promised herself, reaching the corner. This part of the city is creepy enough without all this shit to go with it.
She took another step and moaned. Her foot stung. She lifted it free from the shoe and again inspected its underside. A minute streak of blood was smeared on her sole. Licking her thumb, she wiped it clean, revealing a tiny flap of torn skin. Grimacing, she plucked it off and replaced her foot in the shoe. She looked up as the figure stepped around the corner, reaching for her.
Barely any light penetrated the thick foliage of the small wood. Johan held his hands out to avoid walking into any trees or branches that might strike his face. He moved in small steps, fearing to raise his feet off the ground in case some root should trip him and send him sprawling into the filth of the land. His nose wrinkled from the smell of earth and wood. The streets weren’t exactly hygienic, but they were ordered, lending him more comfort than this green and black maze of nature.
They should have had her in the streets, not here in this grubby wasteland, he thought.
Within the shadows to his side, a twig snapped. Probably Kev. The four of them walked in a rough line. He’d seen the police do this on television, searching for missing kids. It seemed a good idea, certainly more appealing than running around aimlessly in the dark.
He tried to see Richie, but the night and the wide trunks of several trees restricted his view. His hopes of finding the woman were falling fast.
Yet he smelled her. Lying underneath the stinking odours of nature, he detected bitter perfume. Like a bloodhound, he followed his nose.
Things might be okay even if we don’t find her. She was pretty out of it, and with the roughing up Richie gave her, she might be too dazed to remember anything at all.
These were dangerous thoughts. Sloppiness meant getting caught, and this was too much fun to give up. Better to find her and be sure she’s in no state to tell anybody anything.
He passed between the trees a little faster, pushing leafy branches away and kicking through small shrubs. Desperate to wash his hands, he knew he’d have to wait.
“Here!” It sounded like Spence. “I’ve got her!”
Good lad. Johan broke into a run.
At the centre of the small wood, the trees thinned out revealing a patch of bare earth. Johan bounded out through a bush, finding the other three already gathered.
On the ground, the woman cowered between them.
“It’s about time,” Johan said, walking up to them. They spread out, allowing him access to the old woman. Shivering, she gazed up with wide eyes.
He stopped in front of her and placed his hands on his hips.
“Please…” she said, her slur gone.
Johan considered that the run and the shock might
have sobered her up, but he believed she’d been faking all along. Again, sloppiness. She wiped the trail of blood from under her nose. “What do you want? Just let me go...”
Begging. He hated begging.
Johan quickly stepped forwards and kicked his leg up. His foot caught her on the bottom of the chin. He heard the sickening crack of teeth crunching together. Her head whipped back, followed by her body. She sprawled back on the ground.
The boys sniggered.
Johan followed up with a boot to her side.
She cried out and tried to roll away from him.
Kev prodded her with his own large foot, stopping her retreat. She had time to suck in a breath before Johan’s foot slammed into her ribs again.
“Not nice, is it?” Johan asked. He swung his leg back and kicked her again. She coughed, the wind knocked out of her. “Not nice at all.”
Johan turned away and walked a few paces. He raised his face to the moon that glimmered through the ceiling of leaves and drew in a long breath through his nose. His heart thundered in his chest, and he felt a steady swelling in his pants. The woman herself wasn’t bringing it on; it was the sounds she made.
Behind him, the boys laughed.
“So,” said Johan, turning, “who wants to go first?”
The chortles died down, and he caught them exchange nervous glances.
“Rich?”
Richie scratched the back of his head through his thick hair. “No thanks. I’m good.”
Johan raised his eyebrows at Spence.
“Me too.” Spence looked down at the woman. “Don’t think I could even if I tried. Not much to work with.”
Johan smiled and shook his head. “I presume you feel the same way, Kev?”
He nodded.
Johan sighed. “Sorry, love. Seems the boys aren’t too keen…”
“Please,” she pleaded again. “I won’t tell a soul, just let me go.” She shuffled back on her rear. Kev crouched down and grabbed her hair. He wrapped it tightly around his fist and tugged upwards. She howled and stopped her retreat.
“Everyone we meet says that,” said Johan. He scanned the woodland floor. “And you’re right. You won’t tell anyone.” He bent down, spying the side of a rock protruding from the ground. His fingers found its edge and easily pried it from the loose earth. He picked up the stone and held it with both hands, weighing it up.
The woman’s eyes grew wider on seeing the rock. She fought against Kev’s hold, reaching upwards and trying to pry his fingers open. He held on tight, tilting his head back in case she tried to strike his face.
“Let her go,” said Johan. “I believe her. Who would believe a crazy, drunken whore anyway?”
Kev frowned. “Let her go? But after we chased her here…”
“I said to let her go,” Johan repeated. “Unless you want her after all.”
Kev seemed to consider this for a second before untwining his hand from her hair and standing up. He stepped to the side.
The woman frantically climbed to her feet, clutching her side.
She headed for the dark wall of trees.
Johan heaved the rock, smashing it against the back of her head. Agnes’s body pitched forwards, falling back to the ground.
Kev, Rich and Spence cheered, disturbing a bird that fluttered from its perch above and zigzagged through the branches.
Agnes tried to push herself up with trembling arms, but Johan stepped in again, picking up the football-sized rock over his head and bringing it down with both hands.
The rock made a solid crunch as it hit her head a second time. She flopped onto the ground, her spread limbs going into a spasm.
Johan casually threw the soiled rock to the ground. It bounced once and fell on its side, the bloodied edge pointing upwards.
“Let’s see her run now.” He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and held them up for inspection. Some dirt still smudged his skin. He wiped them again, harder. “Finish her off. I want out of here.”
Like a pack of hunting dogs who have waited eagerly for their master’s order, they pounced on the unconscious woman. All three punched and kicked. Spence in particular appeared rabid, stomping the woman in the face over and over again. Johan stepped around for a better view. Already the woman’s face had swelled. Blood gushed from her mouth and nose.
He walked back over to the abandoned rock and picked it up again.
“This is going to take all night,” he said. He toed the fallen leaves and other detritus with his boot. “The sooner we’re out of here the better.”
Johan approached Agnes, and the three reluctantly parted. He stood over her, a foot planted on each side of her chest. Beneath him, her rib cage rose slowly and drifted back down. Her head hung to the side.
He focused on her temple and rearranged the rock in his hands. The sharp edge pointed downwards.
“If you want a job done properly…” he said quietly. He hoisted the rock over his head. “You have to do it yourself.”
With a roar, he swung the rock down.
It sounded like cracking an eggshell.
Simon had followed Nat all the way along the street, begging with every step.
She allowed him to ramble. Ahead, the road became well lit and cars shot through the junction a few hundred yards on.
How the hell did I miss this before?
“Please,” said Simon, keeping pace. “Hear me out!”
“Hear you out?” she growled. “Hear you out? You just left me there to go and do…to do God knows what!”
“It wasn’t like that!”
“Yeah. It certainly felt like that when I was left alone with that giant, Bubba. He could have done anything, Simon. He might have been a rapist for all you care.”
He swallowed and kept quiet.
“And then to leave me wandering the streets at this time. Anything could’ve happened!”
“Look,” he said, grabbing her elbow. She jerked free and continued up the street.
“Fuck off and leave me alone. You seem good at it.”
“Listen to me!” he screamed. A more forceful attempt of grabbing her, he managed to wrap his fingers around her arm. She again tried to shrug him off, but he held fast. “Nat, just stop and listen!”
She huffed but stopped her advance up the street and gazed at the dark windows above. On a worn ledge, a bird observed them for a moment before fluttering away through the night.
“Look at me, Nat.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said firmly. “No one has ever done something like this to me.”
“I had a good reason.”
“Yeah, running off with your little friends. I’ve had boyfriends choose their mates over me before, but I’ve never been abandoned in a random bar!”
He shook his head. “It’s not like that. I hoped you knew me better.”
“I thought I did,” Nat replied coldly.
Simon looked back down the street.
“Can’t we discuss this when we get back?”
Nat laughed, the sound emerged nervous and weak.
“You expect me to have you come back home with me? You’re insane.” She turned and started to walk away. Simon ran up to travel alongside her.
“Please, Nat,” he said, his words soft, tentative from between his lips. “We need to talk. At least, I need to talk, get all this off my chest.”
Nat’s throat twitched. She swallowed the sensation down, remembering Agnes lying on the ground between the gathered men.
What the hell was going on?
“Please,” he said again, reaching for her hand.
Nat snatched it away and kept walking. Pulling her coat tighter around her body, she dreaded the journey back home. It was hard enough to get a taxi at this hour, and she didn’t know a convenient place to pick one up. She pressed her teeth together to stop them from chattering.
“You’re freezing,” said Simon. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. His heat radiated through
his thin coat, and Nat let him press against her while they walked down the street.
Just until I get a taxi. He isn’t back in my good books, whether he can keep me warm or not.
They carried on in silence until they reached the junction, caught in the glare of passing cars.
“Come on,” said Simon, gently tugging her to the side. “This way.”
She fought against him, standing her ground. “No. I can find my own way back.”
“Yes,” he said, “but it’s freezing out here. Do you want to get a taxi or not? I know a place.”
Nat peered up and down the street, studying the cars speeding past. None of them looked like taxis, and even if one should go past, it probably wouldn’t pick up a person out here. Tired of roaming the moonlit and deserted streets, Nat grunted and followed Simon.
6.
The bird fell between the branches like a plummeting stone and opened its wings a few feet from the ground. A burst of flapping, and its small body drifted over dried leaves, stones and earth. It landed neatly on its twig-like legs. The tiny head bobbed to and fro, black eyes scanning the woodland floor. Content in safety, the little brown bird hopped along, its tail held high.
Through the trees and out of the solid darkness, echoed a hoot, followed by a whistle.
The bird replied, its own quizzical tweet ringing out to greet the mysterious caller. It hopped forwards for a few feet and, happy with its spot, pecked at the ground, ignoring the mangled face of the old woman lying beside it.
The whistle came again, closer this time.
The bird raised its head and surveyed the trees. It tweeted again and resumed its hunt for worms in the loamy soil. Moving forwards, making faint pattering noises across the ground, the bird paused and tilted its head at the old woman.
Her eyes remained open, staring forwards. She didn’t move as the bird hopped closer still. It gave her nose a cautionary peck.
The bird shot upwards into the air with a flurry of wings and feathers as a shape loomed out of the bushes and staggered into the clearing. Circling a tree before landing on a long branch several feet above the ground, the bird peeked down into the clearing.
Mother's Boys Page 6