by Stuart James
slumped forward at the same time as an almighty crack shattered the window. Her head exploded.
Jake’s ears rang. Blood covered half the room. Like someone had swung a can of paint around with
the lid off. He crouched under the table. His shoes were drenched.
‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck?’ Jake needed to move. Fast. Keeping in a crouching position,
he turned to the hall. Karen was motionless, head against the table. He listened, then crawled on the
floor towards the kitchen door. As he made it, he shut the door behind him with his back leg. Another bullet penetrated through the wood causing a gaping hole.
‘Son of a bitch.’ Jake lifted himself and raced up the stairs. His breathing erratic. Palpitations racing through every pour of his being. He heard the back door being kicked down. Someone
was inside the house.
‘Think, Jake. Think.’ He stood on the landing. His bedroom on the left, Sean’s further down.
Could he jump from a window? It was a long drop. He didn’t think he could make it. The footsteps
sounded across the wooden floor. A hand on the door. The creak as it opened. ‘Shit.’ Jake stepped
into the bedroom. The only light on upstairs. Whoever was downstairs was now passing the living
room and had placed one foot on the steps. This was it. How it ended, Jake thought. No escape. He
listened as the gun cocked, being reloaded. They were coming up the stairs, slowly, but they were
coming. He only had one chance as he quietly opened the window. It slid up on its pulley. The window-rattling as it moved. Jake paused briefly. With his head now hanging out the window, he
peered onto the drive below. There was nothing to break his fall. A drop of around twenty feet. He
leaned further out. Just below, there was a ledge. An old eave that looked kind of secure to the front
surrounded by ivy. Jake jumped up to the frame. The intruder was now at the top of the stairs. He
ducked under the window through the gap, right leg first followed by the left and reached down.
Pawing his leg in circles, he managed to balance and let go of the frame. He fell back grabbing onto
the down pipe. Below, there was still around fifteen feet left. No choice, he had to jump. He landed
on the hard ground slightly twisting his ankle.
Once he composed himself, he looked up. Jake had to get to the hall. The car keys. The window was open upstairs and the front door locked. His only hope was to go in through the kitchen
around the back. As Jake moved around the side of the house, the security light enabled, flashing a
stream across the gravel. He ran for it. A shadow casting over the glare from the light bulb made
Jake aware the intruder was now standing at the top window at the front of the house. His bedroom. Jake had seconds. He raced through the kitchen, stepping over the blood splatters, grabbed the keys and went out through the front door. He heard footsteps from above charging
across the hall. The huge wooden gates at the front of the drive rattled and slowly moved back. Jake started the engine and pulled out onto the dark lane. At the same time, there was an
almighty explosion. He felt the car drop on its right-hand side. The sound of compressed air spilling
underneath. He’d ripped the tyre to shreds with one shot. Jesus, this guy was good. The car was
struggling. The more he accelerated, the noisier it became. He’d be down to the bare wheel within
seconds. Jake pulled left at the bottom of the lane. A dirt track led up a hill fifty yards further down.
Jake passed the turning and reversed back in. He pulled over to a gap and turned off the lights. He jolted as a shadow was on him. The same guy that he’d seen when they first arrived.
Standing with his hands in his pockets, a long trench coat. Jake was in no mood for games. He
jumped out. ‘What is your problem exactly?’ Jake asked.
‘I warned you, didn’t I? I tried my best. You shouldn’t have come.’
Jake grabbed him by the collar. ‘What do you know?’
‘They won’t stop. I know that much. People are going missing all the time. Taken off the
streets. They’re working together.’ The guy was shaking. Fear evident on his face. ‘Who? Who won’t stop?’
‘I should know, it happened to me. My family are gone too.’
‘What happened?’
The guy looked around. Fear in his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t washed for weeks. He
couldn’t stand still. Like he was on the run. Edgy. He placed his right hand in his mouth. Spat out a
nail from his finger. Jake could tell he was debating whether to run or not. He spun around as if he
thought someone was behind him. Then he looked at Jake. ‘I lived in your house before, before the
other family.’
‘The Prescotts?’ Jake asked.
‘Life was great. I’d just got married. We made a new start. We loved the house. As soon as
we saw it, we knew it was the place we wanted to live in for the rest of our lives. People were
friendly. We had so much space. Fresh air. The countryside. We started getting calls. At first, we put
it down to a prank. The voice on the other end of the line used to tell us to leave. We ignored it. It
became more frequent. My wife, Alice, hung up every time it rang. I heard shuffling underneath the
floors. Like someone was there. In our house. But that was impossible. Right? I heard whispers
sometimes. Like there was more than one person. Alice heard it too. We saw shadows. On the drive.
Someone watching us. I never told anyone at the time. I thought the police would think I was crazy.
Section me. I thought I was going mad myself. And then it happened.’
Jake looked at him. ‘What happened?’
A knock on the door late at night. A guy called over as bold as brass.’
‘What did he look like?’
‘Middle-aged, grey hair, said he ran a very lucrative business. He told us he used the house
for a stop-over. A sort of holding place. We were intruding, and they wanted us to work for them. I
told him to clear off. Leave us alone. Alice was scared. She said we should just go, leave and forget
about the house. He came back again a few nights later. I told him I’d call the police. He laughed.
Said if I made the call, he’d personally kill the two of us without a second thought and I believed
him. He told us they weren’t people to mess with. Stupidly, we chose to stay put. Alice disappeared
a few days later. He promised me faithfully, if I ever mentioned it to anyone, he’d kill me. He’d
hunt me down. I left immediately. I can’t leave this town. I live in the hope that I’ll see her again.
They’ll come for you. I’m telling you, they won’t give up. Leave. Now. Tonight. Before it’s too late,
or you’ll be next.’ He leapt the hedge and was gone. Jake turned around, now alone. He watched the
lights coming towards him.
∞∞∞∞ Styles and Burns had spent the evening patrolling the area. They were enquiring locally, asking about the Jeep and the motorbike. No one locally owned a bike matching the description but were swarmed with black Jeep owners. They still had little to go on. The officers had summoned a team to rip the house apart where they’d found bone fragments, Shelly’s bracelet that Jake had given them and a possible body bag which had been dragged across the lawn which hadn’t been found yet. It was a huge task to try and find what was happening at the house. It could take many days for any news to come through. In the meantime, they needed to find the gun used to kill the waitress. The only firearms shop was way outside of town. They had an officer check it out and the owner told her business was bad. She hadn’t sold a gun in months but didn’t stock anything like a 9-mm a
utomatic or the likes. She said they only sold hunting rifles.
Reynolds and Marsden had called over to the hotel where Jason had met his horrible fate. It looked more and more like he’d been killed, and his hanging was staged. Details emerged from the hotel room. Reynolds had a conversation regarding the findings. Two men were seen in the bar earlier in the evening. The barman confirmed this. They left together. Two glasses were on the coffee table. Both half filled with red wine. Another glass was found with bourbon. It looked like whoever had killed Jason, had to make a quick escape. He didn’t have time to cover his tracks. Clothes fibres were also scooped up, although they could have been from previous guests, but it might be more prove Jason had a visitor. The other information they had was Jason and a family had been the only guests that night and only two rooms had been occupied.
There was still no word of Sofia, the girl who had gone missing last Sunday night from the Anchor. They’d managed to get hold of her parents, but they hadn’t heard from her and were growing more concerned by the minute.
Reynolds turned to Marsden. ‘Let’s take a run out to the petrol station; I want to check it over myself.’
They saw the neon light flickering onto the roadside, around ten minutes outside of town. Reynolds eased the steering wheel to the left and pulled in to the free pump at the front marked number one. They were alone. The sign hung on the door claiming it was still open. A twenty-fourhour yellow light glowing above the door. They walked up and pulled on the heavy door. A small man with a cap was stacking crisps at a side aisle onto a shelf. Empty boxes were strewn everywhere. ‘How can I help?’ Marsden flashed his badge. Reynolds proceeded to ask him about the CCTV.
‘Look, I had officers come by checking it out already. They found nothing. They’ve already taken a copy.’
‘If it’s all the same, we’d like another look,’ Reynolds replied.
‘Right you are.’ He moved from the aisle and made his way behind the counter, beckoning them to join him. They announced the date and rough time for the footage they needed. The guy already knew where to find it, scanning through with a remote until they saw the tape of Jake.
‘Zoom in can you please?’ Asked Marsden as they both sat. They watched Jake enter the shop, then walk to the counter and pay. ‘Do you have any outside footage, around the same time?’ The guy pressed another button and the time and date appeared on the side of the screen. The road was quiet. Only the corner of Jake’s car could be seen. ‘Can you forward it slightly?’ The guy did as he was asked. A motorbike was seen speeding past, followed immediately by a black Jeep.
‘That’s what we’re looking for,’ Reynolds said. The camera was basic. No matter how much they froze it, zoomed and played around, they couldn’t get a proper look. The vehicles went by at such speed; there wasn’t a hope of number plates. Reynolds and Marsden thanked the attendant and made their way out.
‘What now?’ She asked.
‘I say we call it a night. It’s getting late. Tomorrow morning, we can try and find the bike, the black Jeep and try and get to the bottom of what’s going on in this town.’ As they pulled out, their patrol car was being watched.
∞∞∞∞ The man stood at the far end of the forecourt, just out of view. Once the car had gone, he made his way over, pulling the heavy door of the petrol station. The attendant had returned to the shelf. He looked up. ‘Be with you in a minute.’
The man slipped on a pig mask. As the attendant went around the desk, he searched for the person who had just entered. ‘Hello. Anyone there?’ Silence. He was sure someone had come in. He gave it a minute and then returned to the shelf, then heard footsteps at the back of the shop. The attendant looked up. The place still looked empty. He assumed someone was using the loo. He made his way over to the toilet, listening for a flush. The toilet door was open, no one inside. There was no sign of the toilet filling, so he guessed it hadn’t been used. Making his way back to the aisle, he lifted another box and continued filling the shelf. Another noise. Someone was definitely walking around in heavy boots. He stayed crouched. After a minute, he crawled on his belly to the end of the aisle. Still, no one was visible. He slowly stood. On the other side of a shelf, he saw him. Standing tall. Staring. That horrible mask. He hoped this was fancy dress.
‘How can I help?’ He asked. The attendant was stepping back slowly. He needed to get behind the desk and press the emergency button.
‘You really shouldn’t be helping. Showing your CCTV. That’s a big mistake.’ His voice was deep, rough, and cold. As the attendant stepped further back, he lost his balance and stumbled to the ground. The masked man rammed a machete straight into his throat, then calmly walked out and rode off on his bike.
∞∞∞∞ The lights of the vehicle went out. Jake could see his breath in front of him like a thick fog. The Jeep had pulled in at the front of the dirt track. The silence was deafening. On both sides of him were dark fields. He was stood in a dead end. The car was no use. He had to try and make a run for it. Get back to the house. At least he’d be able to see there. He listened to see if he could hear the driver coming towards him. A crunch on the gravel. Footsteps making their way towards where he was standing.
Jake was in fear of his life. He was trapped. He could run. But he was as well closing his eyes. The darkness was something he had never experienced. He didn’t have torch and his phone was back at the house. He heard a snap. A branch being flung back. It was time. He had to get out of there and fast. He backed up and leapt the old wooden stile leading to God knows where, then he ran like he’d never moved before.
Whoever was parked up wouldn’t expect Jake to flee. He had to keep going. After several minutes, he saw the house in the distance. The light at the top window. It helped him find his way. Jake stopped for a second. Waiting to see if anyone was behind. He couldn’t hear anything. He ran again. Once he reached the lane, he jumped into the side ditch, pulled himself up and made his way to the house. The Jeep was slowly making its way up the lane.
Once inside, Jake ran for the phone in the kitchen. His had died, Kate’s still had some charge. More withheld calls. He went to dial Reynolds, but was distracted by someone who had walked around the back of the house. He dropped to the floor. Suddenly, a loud thud against the kitchen door with the butt of something hard. Jake lay down; it was fight or flight. He charged to the door and pulled the rifle causing the intruder to smash his head. Jake watched as the blood splattered against the glass. He opened the door and grabbed the rifle ramming it into the driver’s face. He was surprised how easy the guy had been overpowered, but Jake was a strong guy. He dragged him inside, finding rope to tie him to the nearest chair. He circled it a few times then placed a sack over his face. When he came around, Jake had an old brick phone he’d fished from the guys pocket.
‘Where’s my wife and son?’
‘Fuck you.’
Jake walked out to his tool bag, fitted a blowtorch to one of his gas bottles, and lit the powerful blue flame and returned to the room.
‘I’ll ask you once more, then you’re fried.’
‘What? What are you doing?’ He was shaking his head left and right.
Jake held the flame to the bag over his head as it started melting. ‘Where are they?’ ‘I don’t know. I swear. I don’t know where they are.’
‘Wrong answer.’ The driver screamed as the heat penetrated through the bag and onto his
face. The pain was unbearable. His screaming turned into a blood-curdling cry.
‘Stop. Please!’ Jake turned off the flame. ‘I have a number for my boss. He’s expecting me
to message him when I finish you off. You can ask him. Call him.’ Jake removed the bag, turned the
flame back on and held it on the driver’s face. Again, he yelled uncontrollably.
‘OK! OK!’
‘Start talking.’ The driver told Jake about the house up the road. He also said that he was
pretty sure Kate and Sean were alive. ‘Where are they?�
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‘I don’t know where they are; I think they’ve been taken to a factory outside of town. They
use it as their office, underground.’
‘Who?’
‘The guys that run the operation. They pull people off the streets. I don’t know anything
else. I can show you where the office is.’ Jake didn’t trust bringing him so asked again exactly
where it was. Once he had a good idea where to find it, Jake looked up the area on the Internet. According to Google, the factory was still being used today. He skimmed over the information stating
it was used for manufacturing clothing. There wasn’t much else. It was about ten minutes’ drive
from the house. Jake knew he couldn’t go alone. He asked the driver for his boss’s number. ‘It’s
saved under boss man.’ He was desperately trying to wriggle out of the rope behind his back as he
was talking. Jake could see him doing this and made sure it was secure, then placed the bag back
over his head.
‘What will they do when they get your message?’
‘They told me to finish you, then let them know.’
‘What then?’
‘They usually send someone over to clean up. Get rid of the evidence. A professional job.
Someone who they call in, not part of the team,’ he mumbled under his head cover. Jake looked up
boss man and started writing.
‘What do you call yourself?’
‘Just me.’
Hi, it’s me. Job is done. He’s finished. Jake hit send.
‘Will this call him off?’
‘For a while, yeah,’ mumbled the driver. Jake rammed the butt of the rifle straight into the
driver’s forehead, catching him cleanly. First, a slam and then the guy was sparked out. Jake had another thought. He couldn’t chance the driver sitting here on his own. He knew
he’d do anything to get out of this situation and the rope he tied him with probably wouldn’t hold
for too long. He’d wrangle out of it eventually.