Numb: A Dark Thriller

by Lee Stevens

  But what if they are there? Riley worried. What will you do then? What can you do?

  He turned and looked at McCabe, who in turn was looking back over his shoulder, talking to Howden. Neither of them looked concerned about what lay ahead. In fact, they seemed quite relaxed, as if all of this was nothing. They’d been chatting non stop since they’d set off but Riley hadn’t heard a word they’d said. He’d been too busy thinking. Too busy worrying. Too busy trying to come up with a plan.

  Then Howden asked, “What do you think, Riley?”

  “What?” Riley said. He’d only heard his name being said. Nothing more.

  “Do you agree?” said Howden.

  “With what?”

  “This,” Howden said in-between puffs of smoke. “All the shit going on and Nash sends us seventy miles up the road to sort out a personal grievance.”

  Riley had been wrong. Obviously Howden wasn’t as comfortable with this little job as he’d thought.

  “Can you blame him?” McCabe said. “Would you let someone get away with this if it had of been you?”

  As Riley had expected, McCabe seemed fine with everything. This little jaunt mustn’t spoil any of his and Rodger’s plans. Hey, maybe that was it. Maybe something was planned for tonight and McCabe was happy to be out of Thirnbridge while it happened. Maybe he wasn’t eager to take out Purvis and Sandra but just wanted an alibi when Nash got blown away. Yeah, maybe one of them will get a phone call from Turner soon to say that there’s been another shooting or explosion and that Nash had used up his nine lives and had bought the farm and that the three of them better forget about this Purvis nonsense because we have bigger problems back here. Yeah, it was possible. It was also a terrible thing to wish for but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “I still think Nash has got his priorities wrong,” Howden said. “Still, as long as we get paid I shouldn’t really give a fuck.”

  “You holding up, Riley?” McCabe then asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the darkened and soaked road ahead. The road to hell.

  “Even though Purvis is your friend?”

  Play along, Riley thought. There’s nothing else you can do. Just for now, play along...

  “He was my friend,” he lied. “If he could go behind Nash’s back like that then he can’t be trusted. He could’ve fucked over any one of us – me included.”

  “I know I shouldn’t say this but Nash is losing it if you ask me,” Howden said as he tossed his cigarette butt out the window before winding it back up after letting in half a cloud’s worth of rain. “So he got fucked over? Big Deal, sort it later. Getting rid of Dainton and his men should be priority. Getting revenge for Michael and the others who got killed in the explosion should come first.”

  McCabe turned back in his seat so he could face the bigger man.

  “So what are you saying?” he asked. “You don’t think Nash is running the firm properly?”

  “Do you?”

  Riley flicked a look at McCabe as he pondered the question.

  Yeah, Riley thought. What do you think of Nash? Why do you want to fuck him over?

  “I just follow orders,” McCabe said and Riley almost laughed.

  McCabe had backbone, he had to give him that!

  “But if you had a choice,” Howden asked, “would you sort this now or later?”McCabe seemed to consider the question for a second or two.“I’d do it later,” he then said. “I’d take care of Dainton because that’s the most urgent problem. Once he’s out of the picture then Nash can take his time and focus his efforts on getting even with Purvis. Even if Purvis makes it out of the country there’s always a way to find him. I suppose you’re right, maybe Nash has lost the plot a little.”

  “After what’s gone on it’s understandable,” Riley offered, playing devil’s advocate.

  “Yeah, but Nash should know that you need to keep your wits about you in this business,” Howden said. “If word gets out about his behaviour people with think him an easy target – and I’m not just talking about Dainton. If we’re not careful we’ll have every minor gang in the city wanting to take Nash out and we’re the fuckers who’ll have to fight the war.”

  “That’s what we’re paid for,” said McCabe.

  “Yeah, but when Nash is using us to sort his personal grievances it’s not the same. If he keeps on running the firm like this he’ll lose the respect of his men.”

  “Not me,” McCabe said, without hesitation. “And not Turner. Not you either, eh, Riley?” He nudged Riley on the arm and Riley nodded – which didn’t answer the question either way but seemed good enough for McCabe. “Anyway, this is what we’re all about. We run Thirnbridge and if anyone steps out of line they get paid back. It doesn’t matter if it is business or personal. We do what Nash asks us and accept our wages with a smile.”

  Howden shrugged.

  “Yeah, I shouldn’t complain,” he conceded. “It pays better than an office job.”

  The three of them fell silent. Only the growl of the engine and the rain hitting the windscreen could be heard.

  McCabe pulled the Berretta pistol from his pocket and stared out the window.

  Howden lit up another cigarette.

  Riley kept driving.

  They would be there in half an hour.

  47

  When they arrived at the motel, Riley still hoped the info had been wrong, that Purvis and the girls weren’t here but miles away, safe and sound. However, as they pulled into the car park, McCabe pointed out Purvis’s car up ahead and Riley’s hopes evaporated up into the air along with the cigarette smoke escaping from the gap in the back window. Then they spotted the Volvo and the man they assumed was the Russian sitting inside. Riley had no option, no excuses, but to pull up beside it.

  McCabe cranked down his window. Anton Bardzecki did the same.

  “Are you Mr Nash’s men?” Meester Nash’s men?

  “Yeah, here.” McCabe tossed him the money without thinking twice.

  “You not want to check it’s him first?”

  “We know it is,” McCabe said. “That’s his car. Which room?”

  “That one. Number twelve.” Bardzecki looked at the money and smiled. “It was good doing business with you.”

  He started his car, flashed another annoying smile and drove off smoothly.

  Riley felt like killing him. The sneaky bastard. Didn’t he have a soul? Didn’t he know what he’d just done? Didn’t he care that a two year old girl was involved in all of this?

  “Right, that’s their room there,” McCabe said, nodding in the direction of number twelve. “It looks like the car park continues on the other side of the block. Park around the back. Last thing we want is Purvis looking out the window and seeing your car next to his.”

  Riley did so and again wondered what to do. He wasn’t going to let McCabe and Howden take them, obviously, yet he still had no idea how he was going to stop them. Words were no good. Trying to make them see sense would be like trying to convince a staunch vegetarian that meat was okay. No, when the time came it would have to be quick and by surprise, and forceful.

  Maybe even deadly.

  For the first time since heading out here, Riley assumed he’d seen the last of Thirnbridge, his place of birth. If he helped Purvis and Sandra escape then he couldn’t go back. If he failed, he’d be killed. Simple as that.

  Once parked around the back of the block of rooms, McCabe fitted the silencer to the Berretta.

  “Remember,” Riley said, eyeing the weapon nervously. “Nash wants them brought back alive.”

  “It’s just insurance,” McCabe said, holding up the pistol and smiling. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to go shooting off in there. I like to work in private. I like to take my time on people, remember? Shooting someone stone-cold dead just doesn’t do it for me.”

  “So if you’re not planning on using it then why the silencer?”

  “Like I said, just in case. You think Purvis will jus
t let us take them without putting up a fight?” McCabe opened the door and stepped out into the rain. “You sure can handle this? You don’t want to wait in the car?”

  “No,” Riley said.

  “Okay. Come on. Let’s do this.”

  Riley followed McCabe and Howden to the door to number twelve and took comfort in the fact that Nash wanted them alive. That gave them time. It gave him time.

  To do what though?

  They ducked under the window to the room, the overhanging roof protecting them from the rain. Even though there was no light on inside, Purvis could be keeping an all night vigil. It’s what Riley would have done and he hoped his friend was doing the same. Hoped he’d seen them arrive, recognised the Mercedes and had made a break for it when they’d driven round the back. But if they had, they hadn’t taken the car. It was still parked up, and Riley felt that hollow, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again and knew his hopes were simply wishful thinking. They were inside, probably fast asleep and oblivious to what was lurking outside their motel room door.

  Howden got to his knees in front of the doorknob. The lock was an old fashioned pin-and tumbler lock. Obviously this cheap, piece of shit dump hadn’t upgraded to the electronic card locks that had been commonly in use for the last God-knows how many years. It wasn’t surprising. This place wasn’t a part of some nationwide chain of modern motels offering king sized beds, room service and all the mod-cons. This was a place you stayed when it was late and you were lost. Or you pulled in for the McDonald’s and felt sleepy after your Big Mac and fries and decided no more driving tonight. This was a place a married man brought a prostitute. This was a place where you hid when you were running away from something and you paid for the room in cash and only stayed one night.

  McCabe kept watch as Howden silently began to work the lock with a couple of pins he took from his pocket, his old burglar expertise never having left him. Riley knew he’d sort the lock within a minute. It had taken him less than two minutes to pick the lock on DI Thornton’s garage six months ago and start a chain reaction of tragedy that still haunted Riley to this day.

  Riley pretended to keep watch but hoped they’d be seen by someone checking in, or someone returning to their room and that they’d have to make a run for it. Then again, it would probably be better if they weren’t seen. If they were, McCabe might use the gun.

  God, talk about a no win situation. No matter what way he looked at it, Riley could see no good end to tonight.

  He and McCabe looked down as they heard a tiny ‘click’ from the lock. Howden removed his tools, looked up and winked.

  McCabe nudged him out of the way and placed a hand on the doorknob. His other hand gripped the gun hidden inside his jacket. He nodded to Howden, who rolled up his sleeves, clenched his fists and rocked his head from side to side, ready to rush into the room.

  McCabe then looked at Riley.

  Riley took a breath

  (what are you gonna do?)

  and nodded.

  McCabe took that as a sign that he was ready, and before Riley had time to think, before he could react either verbally or physically, the door was flung open and McCabe and Howden were inside.

  The room suddenly lit up as one of them found the light switch and Riley hoped one last time that they’d gotten the wrong room, that it was someone else in there, or that it was empty, and that the three of them would exchange confused glances and then shrug and leave and wonder what to do next.

  But when he heard the scream inside, all hope was gone.

  48

  McCabe had the gun levelled at Sandra’s head as Riley entered the room.

  She was sitting up in the bed, still fully clothed but looking like she’d just woken. The light had momentarily blinded her and she was squinting but the panic etched across her face showed that she was fully aware of the grave situation she was in. Wendy was beside her, under the blanket and was waking up slowly, rolling from side to side under the covers and mumbling something inaudible. Purvis was beside the bed, obviously having just jumped out on hearing the door open. He was dressed in a T-shirt and trousers and was frozen to the spot, his eyes on the gun McCabe held.

  Until he saw Riley.

  The look in his eyes hurt Riley more than any physical injury could. Purvis looked heartbroken. He thought he’d been betrayed. He thought his friend had turned on him. Riley wished he could tell him the truth; that he was going to help them somehow but wasn’t yet sure how. Keep calm. Everything will be fine.

  Instead, Riley closed the door to the room. There was a door off to the right which led to the bathroom. There was a wardrobe and chest of drawers against the far wall. There wasn’t much space to take McCabe and Howden down in here. Maybe it would be best to get back outside. Make McCabe and Howden think that the job was done. That he’d gone along with them. They’d be less likely to expect anything after leaving the room. They’d think it was all over. Yeah, maybe that would be his best bet.

  “Found you,” McCabe said, walking closer to Purvis. “Sleeping with you’re clothes on? Were you expecting us?”

  “Come on, McCabe-” Purvis tried but McCabe didn’t let him finish.

  “Shut it!”

  “For God’s sake, don’t do this in front of Wendy!”

  The little girl was awake now, her sleep having been disturbed. She made it known by beginning to cry and call out for her mother.

  “Mummeeeee!”

  McCabe turned the gun on her.

  “Shut her up,” he said, and Sandra wrapped her arms around Wendy and hid her eyes from what was going on.

  “It’s okay, Sweety,” she said. “It’s just a game.”

  Riley then realised that he couldn’t take the chance and wait until they left the room. Wendy was the most important one in this. She had to be saved first – and here was McCabe, the madman, pointing a gun at her with his finger on the trigger.

  “It’s alright, Wendy,” Riley said, softly. “We’re just playing. Like hide and seek. Come on, it’s our turn. Let’s go into the bathroom and hide.”

  “What are you doing?” McCabe asked Riley as he pointed the gun back at Purvis.

  “Don’t do this in front of the kid,” Riley said. He held his hands out towards the bed. “Come on, Wendy. Let’s go.”

  Sandra eyed Riley suspiciously. Riley stared back, trying to tell her everything with just his eyes. Sandra tried to hold back tears as she kissed Wendy’s cheek and finally allowed her to climb off the bed and run into Riley’s arms wearing only a vest, her socks and a damp pull-up nappy.

  “You two,” McCabe said, nodding to Purvis and then Sandra. “Come on, it’s time to go. We’ll ride with Riley. Howden can drive your car back.”

  “No,” Sandra said. “I’m not going to let you take us back to him.”

  “You’re not going to let us?” McCabe laughed.

  Howden, by the window, laughed along also.

  “I’d rather die than go back to him.”

  “Keep up with that attitude and you might get your wish,” McCabe warned. “Get up!”

  Sandra didn’t budge and Riley had just walked Wendy into the bathroom when he saw McCabe dart toward the bed and slap the back of his hand against Sandra’s face.

  “You bastard!” Purvis screamed and ran at McCabe.

  Howden had him before he’d gone a few steps, his strong arms locking around Purvis’s throat, cutting off air.

  “Let’s go,” McCabe told Sandra.

  “You heard the man,” Howden said, still holding onto Purvis whose face was growing redder by the second. “Let’s move. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

  “Please,” Sandra said, finally climbing out of the bed, “don’t do this.” She looked at Riley who was stood in the doorway to the bathroom, hiding Wendy from what was going on. “Pleeeease...”

  Riley looked at McCabe.

  “Just get them into the car,” he said, hoping to bide some time. “You two take them. I’ll take Wendy in
Purvis’s car.”

  “No, you come with me.”

  “It’ll be better if I take-”

  “I said you come with me.”

  Riley sighed in frustration. “Don’t you trust me?”

  McCabe grinned. Then he turned on Riley and shoved the gun against his stomach. It happened so fast that Riley didn’t have time to react.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think I do.”

  “What the fuck are you doing, McCabe?” Riley snapped. The barrel was just above his navel. If McCabe’s finger twitched Riley would soon have two belly-buttons.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” asked Howden, his arms still around Purvis’s neck.

  “Are you trying to screw us over?” McCabe asked. “Are you planning on saving Wendy or something? What, have you not got the balls for this?”

  Riley tried to stay calm. If he opened his mouth now and tried to expose McCabe in front of Howden he’d have five or six bullets in him before he managed the ‘T’ in ‘Traitor’.

  “I’m just trying to make things easier,” he said. “Wendy will be less of a handful if she’s with me.”

  “She’s two,” McCabe said. “She’s not even a finger full.”

  “I mean that she’ll not cry as much if she’s with me. She’ll not have a tantrum in the car because she’s scared stiff.”

  And you can’t hurt her if she doesn’t stop crying!

  McCabe pushed out his lip and nodded.

  “You think she might be a problem. Okay then.”

  Keeping the gun against Riley’s chest, McCabe reached behind him and grabbed Wendy’s arm and dragged her back into the room. Wendy began to cry as she was yanked back like a toy doll. When McCabe put the gun to her head she wailed even louder and hugged herself tight. Even a two year old knows when their in mortal danger.