Numb: A Dark Thriller

by Lee Stevens

  “Let’s kill her now,” McCabe said.

  “McCabe,” Riley said as Sandra stifled a scream and Purvis began to struggle so much that Howden had to subdue him by squeezing harder around his throat, “this wasn’t the plan.”

  “The plan’s changed. I say we kill the little one now – her body’ll fit in the boot okay – and take these two back to Nash. Then they’ll all end up in some unmarked grave together. Like a family.”

  When he laughed, even Howden looked uncomfortable with the situation. Yes, he’d probably guessed that even Wendy wouldn’t be spared, but he didn’t plan on being a witness to her killing.

  “I’m not messing around, McCabe,” Riley warned. “Give me Wendy and we’ll all leave together.”

  McCabe glanced up at Howden, taking his eyes of Wendy. His arm moved slightly, the Berretta no longer tracing a deadly bead on Wendy’s head.

  “What do you think Big Man?”

  Riley moved.

  Before Howden answered, he slapped the gun from McCabe’s hand, sending it tumbling to the floor and before McCabe could react Riley ploughed into him with all he had, volleys of lefts and rights to the head. Even when McCabe raised his arms to protect himself Riley didn’t stop. His temper had snapped. He could beat McCabe to death happily and continue pummelling his corpse until his energy was spent.

  But there wasn’t time for that.

  When McCabe went down, Riley kicked the gun away from his reach. Then he felt strong arms around him. Howden had obviously let go of Purvis in order to give someone else a hug.

  “What the fuck, Riley?”

  In reply, Riley smashed his head back into Howden’s face, cutting him above the right eye before wrestling out of his grip. Then, seeing the big man preparing to swing at him with one of his ham-shank sized fists, Riley got in first. Three solid punches - right, left, right - either side of the jaw, smashing his soft-chin, and Howden’s legs turned to jelly, his eyes flickering, like he was about to have a seizure.

  Riley didn’t have time to feel guilty as Howden sank to the floor. McCabe was already scrambling for the gun.

  “My car’s around the back, let’s go!”

  Purvis didn’t need telling twice. He picked up Wendy and ran for the door.

  Riley grabbed Sandra’s arm and followed.

  But not without looking back in time to see McCabe, dizzy and punch-drunk, retrieving the Berretta from the floor.

  “Quickly!” Riley shouted.

  Purvis threw open the door and hurried outside with Wendy. The second they disappeared outside, Riley heard the noise behind him, quiet and muffled, and a second later heard Sandra groan, as if the air had been punched out of her.

  She stumbled sideways and hit the door frame before sinking to the floor.

  Riley looked down. Saw blood oozing from her right leg, her hands clamped against it, trying to stem the flow. She’d been hit.

  She looked up at him. She didn’t look hurt. She looked determined.

  “Save Wendy,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Come on!” Riley shouted and held out his hand to help her.

  Then he saw McCabe on the edge of his vision as he aimed the gun a second time. This time at Riley’s head.

  “Save Wendy!” Sandra screamed.

  There was another muffled shot and a bullet lodged in the door frame as McCabe’s dizziness affected his aim.

  Riley knew he had to leave or be killed, and being killed meant he couldn’t be sure that Purvis and Wendy would make it.

  He looked once more into Sandra’s eyes, saw the look of determination and - dare he think it – thanks, and then raced around the side of the building towards the Merc.

  Purvis was already sitting in the back seat, cuddling Wendy, who was in hysterics now.

  “Where’s Sandra?” he asked.

  “We have to go,” Riley told him as he jumped in and started the engine.

  “We can’t leave Sandra!”

  A shot shattered one of the wing mirrors.

  Riley looked and saw that McCabe had followed them around the side of the building on unsteady legs, looking like a man who’d drank his body weight in alcohol.

  “We have to go!” Riley yelled and floored the accelerator, spinning the car back towards the motorway.

  As they passed the door to the room, they could see Sandra lying in the doorway. Howden was standing over her and looking as unsteady on his feet as McCabe.

  “We can’t leave her!” Purvis yelled from the back seat.

  “What else can we do?” Riley yelled as they left the car park and joined the traffic on the motorway. The sound of Wendy’s crying suddenly hurt his ears. “Purvis, calm her down. Tell her everything is alright.”

  “We can’t leave Sandra...”

  “Purvis, calm Wendy down. She’s the most important thing. Do it!”

  Purvis tried, but was crying himself as he did so.

  49

  McCabe watched the Merc disappear into the distance from the side of the block and cursed his stupidity.

  He should’ve made Riley stay in the car and he and Howden should’ve gone to the room themselves. He’d doubted from the off that Riley had the stomach for this little job and he should’ve said so – maybe even to Nash. Riley and Purvis were best friends, for fucks sake! He should’ve known Riley would try something like this. Fair enough, maybe he himself shouldn’t have pissed about and done that shit with Wendy to provoke him but he hadn’t believed Riley would bring her back alone and so had to do something to find out whose side he was really on. And he had found out, and now his head was spinning his nose was throbbing and everything was a mess.

  Fuck!

  McCabe started back to the room. Jesus, he was dizzy. That cunt Riley had hit him with a few good shots and if he hadn’t managed to get his hands up to protect himself he’d probably still be out cold. He could feel his nose swelling. Both of his cheeks were sore and his head was swimming. Still, it was only a bit of concussion. Nothing permanent. It would pass. Plus there were bigger problems.

  He was relieved to see that no other guests had come to their doors or windows and that nothing had been witnessed by some nosy travellers whose lives would now be in danger should they show their face and start asking questions. He stopped at the door to room 12, glanced down at Sandra and then up at Howden, who was holding his head with both hands and working his jaw. Blood ran from one of the big man’s eyebrows and down his cheek like war paint.

  “Get her inside,” McCabe said.

  Sandra tried to scream as Howden dragged her back to the bed. McCabe followed and closed the door behind him.

  “Shut her up!”

  Howden raised a fist and prepared to smash it down on Sandra’s face. Then he looked at the bed and grabbed a pillow instead. He tore off the cover and, holding it by one of the corners, spun it so that the material spiralled like knotted rope. Then he flipped Sandra onto her front, dug a knee into her back and shoved the makeshift gag in her mouth before tying it in a knot behind her head. He used another pillar case for her hands.

  McCabe walked closer and stared down at Sandra’s bloodied hip. He prodded the wound with the end of the gun and more blood leaked out. Sandra gagged and closed her eyes. She looked on the verge of passing out.

  “Nothing serious,” McCabe said. He prodded the wound again and this time Sandra did loose consciousness. “She’ll live – which is bad for her. She’ll be begging for a bullet to take her out when I get my hands on her later.”

  “What now?” Howden asked. He used his sleeve to wipe more blood from his face and walked to the nearby mirror to inspect the damage. “Bastard!” he hissed and pulled out his cigarettes. “What the hell got into Riley?”

  “It’s Nash’s own fault for sending him on this job,” said McCabe. “I thought something like this might happen. Him and Purvis are mates. For all we know Riley might have known what was going on between Purvis and Sandra all along and was covering for them. If tha
t was the case then there was no way he was going to let us bring them back tonight.”

  Howden stuck a cigarette between his lips and asked, “Are we gonna call the boss and tell him?”

  McCabe sighed, disappointed in himself more than the thought of explaining it to Nash.

  “I guess we’ll have to,” he said. “But not here.” He looked around the room. Found Purvis’s car keys on the cabinet and picked them up. “Let’s get her to the car first.”

  Howden put the cigarette back in the box without lighting it as McCabe began to collect Purvis and Sandra’s belongings, packing them back into the suitcases.

  “Why are you bothering with those?” Howden asked.

  “If someone finds them they’ll call the police,” McCabe said. “If the cleaning lady finds the stuff still here when Purvis and Sandra are meant to have checked out then she’ll suspect something, won’t she? The last thing we want is for them to be reported missing and have the police find something in these cases that identifies them and links them back to Thirnbridge.”

  “Eh?” Howden was obviously still a little dizzy.

  “Never mind.”

  McCabe finished packing, opened the door and double checked the coast was clear.

  “Let me get the engine going and then bring her out,” he told Howden. He put the Berretta back in his jacket, collected the luggage and raced across to Purvis’s car. Once he’d stored the cases in the boot and started the engine, he flashed the headlights to let Howden know he was ready.

  Soon after, Howden had Sandra slung over his shoulder and was hurrying toward the vehicle.

  Once they were both in the back McCabe steered out of the car park and was on the motorway before Sandra started moaning and her eyes began flickering. A few seconds later, she started choking, the gag cutting out her oxygen.

  “Should I take it off her?” Howden asked. “She can scream as much as she likes in here.”

  “Yeah, we don’t want her to suffocate before she gets to Nash. Besides, she might be able to tell us where Purvis and Riley are heading. Maybe she knows of one of their hideouts.”

  Howden removed the gag. Sandra’s eyes were fully open now and she was gulping in air. Then she looked at each of them in turn and said, “I’ll not tell you bastards anything.

  “We’ll see,” McCabe said.

  “Why do you care anyway, McCabe?” Sandra asked. “Why are you out doing Nash’s dirty work when you were the one who set him up?”

  McCabe stared at her through the rear view mirror.

  What did she just say?

  “Wait till I tell him that you were involved with the death of Michael junior,” Sandra said. “You sure you want to take me back to him, McCabe? Do you want me to tell him what I know?”

  McCabe burst out laughing.

  Howden looked confused.

  “What’s she talking about?” he asked.

  “I’ve no fucking idea,” McCabe said, his laughter slowly dying down. “And how, exactly, was I involved?”

  “Dylan told me,” she said. “He and Riley studied the footage of the shooting at the club and saw you move out of the way before the shots were fired. You knew about it beforehand. You set Nash up.”

  “You’re fucking crazy,” McCabe snapped. “Put her gag back on.”

  She shouldn’t have said that...

  “You’re going to get what’s coming to you, McCabe,” Sandra warned. “Take me back to Nash and I’ll make sure he hears what I have to say.”

  “What’s she talking about?” asked Howden again. “I’m lost.”

  “McCabe’s a traitor,” she told him. “He tried to have Nash killed. He was involved with the shooting-”

  “Shut it!”

  McCabe pulled the car onto the hard shoulder and switched the engine off. There was still a lot of traffic on the road, but it was dark and wet and they were ten or fifteen yards from where the traffic was. The speed limit was seventy and most drivers at this time would be going a lot faster, too fast to see anything. Yes, this spot would have do.

  “Maybe the boot will be more comfortable for you?” he said and opened the door. “Howden, bring her out.”

  Howden frowned and said, “I want to know-”

  “She’s talking shit,” McCabe interrupted. “Trying to screw with our heads. They all do it when they’re caught and trying to bide time. Bring her out.”

  McCabe hurried round the back of the car and unlocked the boot. As he did so, he could see Sandra talking to Howden through the back window.

  Bitch, he thought as he opened the back of the car. So, Purvis and Riley are onto me, are they? Well, that changes things...

  “Howden, hurry up!”

  The back door opened and Howden dragged Sandra out into the rain. She was struggling, kicking and shouting that McCabe was a traitor and that Howden should listen to her.

  McCabe grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled out the gun. She stopped struggling when he pressed the end of the silencer against her head.

  “Howden, get the cases out of the back and make room for our guest, will you?”

  Howden looked at Sandra. Then back at McCabe. Then he leant inside the boot, his head, shoulders and arms disappearing into the gloom as he grabbed the first case, pulled it out and set it on the floor. Then he did the same with the second case.

  “Don’t forget that,” McCabe said, pointing into the boot.

  Howden stooped. Looked inside.

  “What?”

  McCabe fired three shots into the back of Howden’s head. Blood and brain tissue slapped against the inside of the boot and there was a dull thud a second later as Howden slumped head first inside. When Sandra screamed, McCabe smashed the side of the gun against her temple to shut her up and he smiled when the blow knocked her clean out and she landed in a heap behind the car, hiding her from the road.

  McCabe then hoisted Howden’s legs upwards so that the dead weight from his upper body would pull them inside the boot. Hopefully any drivers going past would think he was struggling with a spare tyre or something as he forced Howden’s body inside enough to allow the lid to close. In the end, Howden looked a little uncomfortable, all squashed up like some giant, ugly foetus. Still, it wasn’t like he was going to wake up with cramp or anything. But it was a shame this had had to happen. McCabe had liked Howden. He’d been an alright bloke.

  McCabe then threw the suitcases in the back seat of the car before turning his attention to Sandra. She was even easier to throw inside and, seeing that she was still out cold as she landed against the cases, he pulled out his mobile and called Nash.

  As he waited to be connected, he tried to think of what to say. How to make this work.

  “You find them?” Nash asked the second he picked up.

  “Yeah,” McCabe said. “But there was a problem.”

  That was the truth.

  “I don’t like problems,” Nash said, calmly. That would be thanks to the brandy.

  “Riley tricked us. He took us by surprise and helped Purvis and the girls escape.”

  Again – the truth.

  “He took on both you and Howden?”

  Now time for the lies.

  “Howden’s dead,” said McCabe. “Purvis had a gun. Riley knocked me out and when I came to they’d all gone. Howden’s body was on the floor in front of me. But, don’t worry, I took care of it. No cleaning lady’s gonna find it in the morning or anything.”

  “Get rid of it,” Nash said, as if the death of one of his most trusted employees meant nothing to him anymore. A few weeks ago he would’ve been seething. Not anymore though. It was all about himself. “And I want Purvis and the others found. I don’t care how you do it, you just better had.”

  “Don’t worry, I will,” McCabe said. “And I won’t come back until I do.”

  Nash hung up.

  “Cunt.” McCabe snapped at the phone.

  He climbed back in the car and shook the rain from his hair. Sandra’s eyes were closed an
d she wasn’t moving but McCabe could see that she was still breathing. Which was good. He could’ve easily have killed her when he’d hit her with the gun. But he needed her now.

  She was bait.

  It was time to make another phone call.

  50

  Riley stopped the car on a quiet tree-lined road half an hour after they’d fled from the motel.

  Wendy was almost asleep again and sitting on Purvis’s lap. She had calmed down and seemed taken in by Purvis’s pathetic lies that this was all just a game. Her mother had been caught by the other side and they had to leave before they got captured too. They’d see her again when the game was finished. Would they win? Of course, they would, Sweety. Don’t you worry and try to sleep...

  When Wendy calmed down she stopped asking questions, not even why her ‘uncle’ Dylan was still crying if all of this was just a game. Purvis’s sobs had now subsided to sniffles and he was pressing his fingers against his eyes to try and hold back the tears as Riley tried to get his head around the situation.

  Here they were, the middle of nowhere, the wind scooping up litter from the road and swirling it around the car like tormented spirits whilst God knew what was happening to Sandra. And what could they do? Head back to Thirnbridge and try to rescue her? Two men and a two year old girl against McCabe and Howden and the rest of Nash’s army who will soon be told that Riley was as much a traitor Purvis? They’d last about thirty seconds.

  Riley thought things couldn’t get any worse until his phone rang.

  He knew who it would be.

  “It’s McCabe,” he said, looking at the display.

  “Let me talk to him,” Purvis said, holding out his hand.

  “No, I’ll do the talking.” Riley stepped out of the car so that Wendy couldn’t hear, pressed the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. “What?”

  “Riley, Riley...” McCabe said with a throaty sigh. “What a mess this is...”

  “Where’s Sandra?” he asked, not wanting to waste time.

  “She’s with me, of course.”

  “Alive?”

  “For now.”