‘Fine, then,’ she said.
Silence fell once more.
Then they heard the door open.
36
Tom was close to giving up and going back to the shop. His pursuit of the youth seemed to be getting him nowhere. He felt like he was just following him home. But he persisted, some intuition he couldn’t place driving him on.
Always at a discreet distance, never risking being recognised. He thought he had been made on a couple of occasions and had pretended to go into a shop or look as though he was going to cross the road, before continuing his pursuit. He knew from experience that the trick was not to panic, not to make sudden, rash movements. That was the way to draw attention to himself. But, it seemed, his quarry hadn’t suspected a thing and Tom was being over-cautious. Better that, he thought, than the alternative.
He hadn’t been impressed with Newquay from its seafront facade and as he walked away from that he became even less enamoured. The front was run-down, ancient amusement arcades with their incessant beeping and sickly light thrown out onto the pavement, threatening-looking fish-and-chip shops that offered more of a dare than an encouragement to enter, and boarded-up businesses that had failed to entice the populace and whatever tourists happened upon the place. A few chain-store surf-gear shops were dotted about and the kind of shops that only exist in old seaside towns selling everything no one needs but for some reason will buy. One, Tom noticed, had a plastic dispenser outside that he took on first glance to be offering bubblegum and gob stoppers but on closer inspection was revealed to be selling his-and-her thongs for a pound. Judging from the yellowed, laminated, photo-display advertising, it had been there some time and it looked like very few had taken them up on their offer.
The back streets were equally depressing. Rows of old houses, pebbledashed with aluminium windows, lined the narrow streets. Some had been painted bright pastel colours, the desperation of which had the reverse effect of making them seem even more drab.
Tom was careful during this section as he was more exposed. The boy had only to turn to see him. But he didn’t. At first Tom put that down to luck but then noticed the telltale sign of white wires stretching from each ear. He was lost in whatever he was listening to.
Eventually the houses gave way and a static caravan park appeared before him. If the houses had looked bad, this was even worse. It felt like some metaphorical end of the road. The houses had become increasingly grim as he walked, telling a cautionary tale of what could happen if a life went astray. The caravans were the end result. The dead-end result. The youth headed towards the door of one of them. A particularly run-down specimen even by the standards of those surrounding it. His hand was at the door, ready to enter. But he stopped.
Tom did too.
The guy removed his headphones, cocked his head to one side, listening. Then, when he had heard enough, he twisted the door handle, ran inside.
An alarm went off inside Tom at that point. It felt like his decision to follow had been vindicated. Something was happening here and he had a feeling – intuition again – that it was connected to his business with Conroy. Abandoning all pretence of subterfuge, he ran towards the caravan, opened the door.
It took him several seconds to process the scene. Several more to realise who the young blonde was. He recognised the youth from the shop but had no idea who the other one was. He was the most intriguing of the three. Obese yet malnourished-looking, with sunken dark-rimmed eyes in his sunlight-starved face, his clothes stained and filthy, his hair dark with grease and dirt. He didn’t look as though he belonged with the other two; but taking in the appearance of the caravan, more like he belonged there than they did. Tom noticed something else about the obese man. Tracks on his arm. Right. Thought of the young dealer on the street outside Conroy’s place.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ The youth spoke first.
‘Don’t you remember me? I’ve just been talking to Conroy.’
Recognition sparked in the kid’s eyes. ‘What you doin’ here?’
‘Followed you. Wondered where you were going.’ He dismissed him, turned his attention to Lila. ‘Hello again.’
Lila just stared at him, unsure whether his appearance here was a good development or a bad one.
‘Believe you’ve got something belonging to me. That right?’
She looked between the other two, then back to Tom. It was clear he was the last person she expected to see and she couldn’t hide her surprise.
Tom felt like he had the upper hand. He pressed on. ‘Well?’
‘Conroy’s . . . Conroy’s got your stuff.’
‘He told me someone else had it. And I have to go back later and pick it up.’
‘He’s lying,’ she said.
‘How d’you know that?’
‘Because it’s what he does.’ She looked at the other two. ‘It’s what they all do here.’ No disguising the hostility in her voice. Her eyes travelled over to the other bedroom. Tom followed her gaze.
‘Oh, dear. What did he do?’
‘Raped me,’ she said, her earlier anger returning, the words spat out.
Tom nodded. ‘And these two? They your friends?’
‘No. Definitely not. This is Josey. He lives here. This is Leon. He ponces off him. With his two mates.’
Leon was about to argue but a look from Tom silenced him.
‘Are they keeping you here against your will?’
She nodded, not holding his gaze. Shame on her face.
‘I’m walking out of here. You want to come with me?’
She looked up once more, wary. Then glanced at the other two. Weighed up her options. Nodded once more.
‘OK then,’ he said. ‘Off we go.’
Leon found his voice once more. ‘Whoa, whoa, you can’t just walk away with her. No way, man.’
‘You’re right,’ said Tom. He pointed to his coat lying on the floor. ‘I’ll take that too.’
‘No . . .’ Josey roared.
Tom looked between the three of them. ‘What’s up with him?’
Lila picked up the coat. The movement agitated Josey further. She held the coat up, emptied what remained of the drugs from the pocket, let the parcels drop on the floor.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Have it. Have the lot.’
She passed the coat to Tom. He didn’t take it.
‘Cold outside,’ he told her. ‘You might want to put it on.’
She did, almost smiling at him.
Tom turned to Leon. ‘We’re leaving now. Whatever happened to him in there – ’ pointing to Danny – ‘is nothing to do with me. And she’s coming with me.’
‘But she’s almost killed him . . .’
Tom knew he was inviting trouble. He knew he should have just walked out of there on his own, gone back to see Conroy, got his stuff and gone home. End of. But there was something about the girl and the lost, frightened way she had looked at him when he entered the caravan. He couldn’t just leave her to be torn apart by whatever fate awaited her. He had to do something.
And he knew why, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.
‘You can sort things out here. She’s coming with me.’
They walked out together.
No one followed.
Outside, she pulled the coat around herself, seemed unsure what to say or how to act. Tom felt the same.
‘Thank you,’ she said eventually.’ Her voice sounded small, fragile.
‘Don’t thank me just yet. We’re going back to see Conroy.’
37
Kai didn’t know where he was going. He had thought it would be easy. Get out of the pit, use the torch to retrace the route he had taken in getting Kyle there. Stroll to the exit. Or if he had to, do that thing he’d seen in films, check for air currents or cracks of light and follow them. But there was nothing like that. No clues. Just tunnels. None of them looked familiar. And there were no directions as to which one he should take.
It wasn’t like the
cave tunnels he had been on school trips with. Where they could walk around with no real sense of danger, always keeping an exit in mind.
These caves were by turns cavernous and tiny. Occasionally wooden supports held up huge shelves of rock. Sheets of corrugated metal provided makeshift ceilings where the rock and earth had crumbled above, rusted away in sections to allow mini roof-falls. He could walk upright in some sections, could have played football in them even, but in others had to go bent double and in some might have found himself screaming in claustrophobic terror at their narrowness. Axe and drill marks covered the walls and ceilings like post-industrialist cave markings. Sometimes he felt that his route took him upwards, sometimes downwards. He reached different levels, all with tunnels branching off in differing directions. Hoped he chose the right one, the one that went to the surface. All the way through the floors were uneven, strewn with all sizes of stones and gravel he kept stumbling on and tripping over; sometimes he would sink more than ankle deep, like being pulled down by a kind of dry, sucking quicksand. Bone dry, he thought with a shiver. He moved carefully, watching where he stepped, hoping his torch battery would hold out. If that went, he feared he would be completely lost.
The caves seemed to go on for ever. Kai didn’t realise that there was so much space under the ground. It was like a mini town carved out of solid rock.
He kept moving. Then saw something up ahead. It looked familiar. He moved quickly towards it, heart increasing, thinking it might be some kind of exit. It wasn’t. It was the entrance to the pit he had been held captive in with Kyle. He pointed the torch downwards. There was Kyle’s lifeless body lying at the bottom, the bed frame over him like a cage. Kai turned away. Sat on the ground.
He was going to be stuck underground for ever. That was that.
He tried to keep himself together, not give in to tears or screaming. Not to look down at the body lying in the pit, reminding him of what he had done. Taunting him. Kai wasn’t a killer. No, he was the opposite of that, one of the good guys, always had been. He couldn’t think of himself any other way. If he did he would just collapse completely and it wouldn’t matter whether he made it out or not. He had only done what was necessary to survive. That’s what he told himself. Kept telling himself.
But other thoughts slithered into his mind in the darkness. Kyle. Not just his death, but his capture. And Kai’s part in that. He had gone along with it readily enough. Yeah, he’d tried to rationalise it to himself by saying that if he hadn’t done it Noah would have found someone else. And then where would Kai have been? Knowing too much but not wanting to take part. Yeah. He knew what would have happened then. So he had been pragmatic. That was it. Pragmatic.
Then there was Lila. Something much deeper might have developed between them given time. But no. She had to do what she did. And there was nothing Kai – or anyone – could have done to stop her. What had happened to her was definitely her own fault. Definitely.
So he sat there, telling himself what he tried desperately to believe was the truth.
And all the while, his torch battery was running down. Soon it would be gone completely. And that would be that.
Desperation driving him once more, he stood up, set off in the opposite direction from the one he had taken last time. Or at least he hoped so. Soon he was in another maze of tunnels just like the previous ones. It was hopeless. He was totally lost.
He tripped, fell into a wall. Dropped the torch. The light went out. He slumped to the ground.
‘Fuck . . .’
His head hurt. He put his hand to it, felt something wet. Tried not to panic at what he knew it could be. Hoped it wouldn’t be too serious. He couldn’t pass out as well as get lost. That really would be the end of him.
Willing himself to move once more, he managed to get up onto all fours. Felt around on the ground for the torch. Felt something else.
Metal. Rusted old metal. But streamlined.
He felt further. Wooden sleepers underneath going crossways.
His heart beat more rapidly. This must have been the track they used for taking the ore in and out of the mine. That meant it must lead somewhere. That meant . . .
He searched around once again for the torch. Managed to find it after skinning his fingers red raw in the darkness. Turned it on. It wouldn’t light. Exasperated, he threw it to the ground. No, he thought. The rusted metal rail would have to do. That would be his way out. He didn’t need the torch.
Crawling on his hands and knees, he followed the rail.
For how long, he had no idea. All he knew was that the initial burst of euphoria he had experienced on finding it subsided the further he crawled. He began to feel tired as the adrenaline high of the discovery deserted him and doubts crept in once more. Was he heading in the right direction? What would he do if the rail ran out and he still hadn’t found an escape route? Or came to a dead end, blocked in by rock? He tried to stop these thoughts, to concentrate on just moving forward. Hoping the worst wouldn’t happen.
But the worst did happen. The rail ran out.
He tried not to panic. Keep going. Just because the track’s not there any more doesn’t mean that this isn’t the way out. Keep going.
Soon the ground became coarse once more. The sleepers had disappeared beneath him too. He felt around for signs of where it could have continued, found nothing. He patted the ground, trying to work out if it was smoother in one place than another, give himself a clue as to which way to head. All he found were different tunnels. He had no choice. He kept going in the same direction.
Finding no reason to continue on his hands and knees he risked standing up, hoped the ceiling wasn’t too low. It wasn’t. Slowly he moved forward, hands on the walls. He put one foot in front of him, pressed down, expecting the ground beneath him. It wasn’t there. The blackness acted as a sensory deprivation chamber and, trying to pull back, he lost his balance and fell.
He landed hard, the air momentarily leaving his lungs, a searing pain in his chest. Breathing was hard. So was moving. Pain coursed like electricity all round his body. Exhausted, he just lay where he was.
This is it, he thought. This is the end.
Kyle came into his head. Lila.
This is what I deserve, he thought. I’m a fucking coward. I even lie to myself. This is what I deserve.
He closed his eyes. Blackness against blackness.
*
The light was blinding. He squinted, closed his eyes, opened them again. The light was still there. Heaven, he thought. This must be heaven. Like the religious ones always said. They must be right after all. Walk towards the bright light. That’s all he had to do and he’d be in eternity. Except he couldn’t move his body. And he was still in pain.
‘Jesus Christ, what’s he doin’ here?’ said a voice that Kai found familiar.
‘The other one’s not moving. Looks like he’s dead.’
‘So does this one. Shit . . .’
‘What do we do?’
These weren’t angels. Kai realised that now. And he wasn’t dead, although parts of him felt like it.
‘Can’t leave him here. Let’s stick him in the pit with the other one.’
They picked him up. Roughly. He cried out in pain. They dropped him quickly. He cried out in more pain.
‘Jesus, he’s still alive . . .’
‘What d’we do?’
A pause while they thought.
‘Get him out of here. See what Noah wants doin’ with ’im.’
They grabbed Kai once more. He didn’t know whether it hurt or not. He had blacked out again.
38
Conroy’s shop was in darkness when Tom and Lila arrived. They had barely spoken to each other as they walked away from the caravan, leaving unsaid whatever questions either of them had. There would be time enough for that later. Tom had more immediate things to concentrate on.
They stopped before the closed door. Tom looked at Lila.
‘This natural for him? Closing
up when he’s waiting for someone?’
‘No idea,’ said Lila. ‘I don’t know him well. At all, really.’
‘You just handed my stuff over to him.’
Even in the darkness Tom saw Lila’s face redden. ‘He’s a fence, right? That’s all I knew. He deals in stuff like that. I just wanted some money so I could get off.’
‘But it didn’t turn out like that.’
She sighed. Shook her head.
Tom saw the pain on her face, in her eyes. She was being honest with him and he couldn’t stay angry at her.
‘Let’s get this sorted,’ he said, ‘then we’ll see what happens next.’
He placed his hand on the door. It opened.
‘He’s expecting you,’ said Lila. ‘That’s good.’
‘You think so? Walking into a dark, closed shop? Anything could happen. Anyone could be waiting for us.’ He looked at her again. She was scared to go in, he could tell. ‘Look, why don’t you wait here? I won’t be long.’
Her eyes lit up at being given a way out and from the speed with which her mouth moved her first response was to do as he had offered. But something changed in her expression. An uncertainty. A weight.
‘No. I got you into this. Only fair I come with you.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I know.’
He was starting to like this girl. Everything she had been through and she still had spirit.
‘Come on then.’
He pushed the door open. They stepped inside.
He closed the door behind them. Stopped. Listened. Nothing. No sign or sound of anyone there. He listened closer. Heard something. Breathing. Heavy breathing.
Conroy. Had to be.
‘I know you’re there, Conroy. I can hear you.’
The breathing was followed by grunting and groaning. A darker shadow moved against the back wall. Conroy getting to his feet. ‘So you came back, Tom Killgannon.’
‘Didn’t you expect me to?’
The Old Religion Page 17