The End of the Line

Home > Other > The End of the Line > Page 17
The End of the Line Page 17

by The End of the Line (retail) (epub)


  They could have used Steph’s face as a sunlamp. She didn’t know where to look or how to move, she was so stuffed with pride.

  ‘Back to this,’ Karina pulled the notebook close to her again. ‘How did you find it?’

  This was more like it. Steph leaned in. ‘I found a lot of it really challenging. Especially some of the last runes but then I figured out that if I—’

  The buzz of Steph’s phone cut the air, the device vibrating across the table.

  ‘That’ll be Mum,’ said Steph, picking it up. ‘She’s the only one with the number.’

  ‘Except me,’ Karina smiled.

  Steph smiled back as she picked up. She hoped her mum wouldn’t be able to hear the sounds of the café in the background. ‘Hi, Mum.’

  ‘You have to get back here now.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Come home. No dawdling. Now.’

  ‘OK. I’m on my way.’ Steph hung up, not liking the desperation in her mother’s voice.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Karina looked concerned.

  ‘It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine. She’s just wondering where I am.’ Steph began to get up, packing her bag.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No.’ Steph didn’t mean to say it so sharply. ‘No. I’m sure it’s fine. Can we meet next week?’

  ‘Of course we can. But if anything’s wrong—’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Steph was already on her way out the door. That tone in her mother’s voice. ‘I’ll text you.’

  ‘There you are.’ Mum grabbed Steph by the wrist and pulled her into the flat the moment she crossed the threshold.

  The place reeked of magic, more than a single spell could account for and Steph wondered what her mother had been doing.

  ‘Go on,’ once Mum had pulled her sufficiently into the room, she let go with a flick of her wrist, like the momentum would propel her daughter the rest of the way to her room. ‘Pack your bag. We’re leaving.’

  ‘Right now?’

  ‘Yes, right now.’

  Mum was hurrying back into her study. There came the frantic rustle of paper, the pat-pat of books being stacked.

  Steph could see into her mother’s room. The bed was unmade, clothes spilling from open drawers as always. There was no sign of a suitcase. She was concentrating on her books and notes.

  The TV was on but muted – something about an attack. That’s all the news banner along the bottom described it as. ‘St Paul’s attack’. There was a swish office block, broken glass, blood on the pavements, police cordons, people crying.

  Mum emerged with a stack of texts tucked under her chin. ‘Don’t just stand there, pack. We’re leaving in a few minutes.’

  ‘Why? What’s happening? Is something wrong?’

  Mum dropped the books onto the sofa. ‘I really don’t have time for your questions. Get packed or I leave without you.’

  Mum’s phone started to ring, making her jump.

  ‘Ignore that,’ she said, though whether she was speaking to herself or to Steph she couldn’t say. She disappeared back into her office.

  Steph, unsure of what to do, went to her room. Packing wouldn’t be difficult, she had never really moved out of her suitcase. What was the point?

  Her phone chimed a text. Karina. ‘Hope everything’s OK.’

  She wondered if she should reply. What would she say?

  She didn’t want to leave London or Karina. Why couldn’t Mum leave on her own? Why did she always have to drag Steph along behind her, never satisfied, leaving Steph to make the best of things?

  ‘I don’t hear packing,’ her mother called.

  All of a sudden, Steph was furious. She was sick of this. Sick of her. Sick of being treated like a kid.

  She stormed back into the living room. ‘I’m not going.’

  Silence from the study.

  ‘I’m sick of being dragged around after you. I never have the chance to make any friends. I’m always bullied. You’re never in. And it never works. I’m sick of it.’

  Mum emerged from the office, heading straight for her. She grabbed Steph’s arm so hard that Steph cried out.

  ‘You get right back in there and pack.’

  ‘No.’ Steph forced the word through the pain. ‘You go. I’m staying.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Why? We both know you don’t want me.’

  Her mother paused, the look of rage struck from her face. ‘Why would you think that?’ she asked, sounding hurt. Then she shook herself out of it. ‘We don’t have time. We will discuss this at the hotel.’

  ‘I want to discuss it now.’

  ‘Stephanie, our lives are in danger.’ The words seemed to surprise her mother as much as they surprised her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The summoning’s gone wrong. I’ve lost control. I can feel him, Stephanie. I can feel him…’ Her mother controlled herself before her emotions could take hold. ‘He’ll be coming after us. After you. Just look at…’ she gestured towards the television, blue lights strobing off posh building fronts, so many ambulances.

  Steph didn’t know what to say, the information too big to take in all at once. Among the thousands churning in her head, one rose to the surface. ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because you’re my daughter. Now go on.’

  ‘Aren’t you packing?’

  ‘The books are more important. Now come on. Go, go, go.’ She shooed Steph from the room.

  Steph did as she was bid, her whole body numb. She looked to her phone. She had to tell Karina. There had to be something she could do to help.

  She was composing the text in her mind when the front door opened. Dear God, she almost shat herself right there and then.

  But it wasn’t Reeves. Two large men pushed their way inside – bruisers in shirts and jeans, big fists and no pity.

  They gave her little attention, focussing on her mother.

  Another man came in. The one in charge judging by the way he carried himself.

  ‘Off somewhere?’ the man asked.

  ‘If you even come near me—’ her mum started.

  ‘You’ll what,’ the man demanded, stalking toward her. ‘You’ll fucking what?’

  Steph didn’t know what to do. She was frozen at these men being in her house. The context didn’t fit inside her head. They didn’t belong here. Men like this didn’t bother people like them.

  ‘Running out on us, were you?’ asked the man.

  He was around the corner now, out of sight, there was the impression of movement. Mum called out in pain.

  ‘Mum!’ She rushed forward. The big men didn’t even move to stop her, like there was nothing that she could do.

  The boss had Mum by her hair, twisting her head back so her body was corkscrewed in an effort to keep her feet. A knife had appeared in his other hand, a thin blade for stabbing – a killer’s knife. The point dimpled the soft, taut flesh under her mother’s jaw bone. An animal-like snarl played across the man’s face.

  The front door opened again, another man pushing through. This one was older. The word ‘dapper’ sprang nonsensically to Steph’s mind.

  Mouth dropping at what was happening, he pushed the door closed so no one in the hall might see. ‘What the hell is going on here? Andrew.’

  ‘You were right,’ said the other man, Andrew, ‘bitch was running out on us. Rats from a fucking ship.’ He gave Mum’s head another jerk for emphasis.

  ‘I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding,’ said the older man.

  ‘You fucking blind?’ Andrew, the man called ‘AK’ Steph was beginning to realise, pointed to the open suitcase full of notes and books with his blade. ‘She let this happen.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Mum gasped as the blade came back to her throat. ‘I swear.’

  ‘Let her speak,’ said the old man, stepping forward so that AK could see his face. ‘Killing her won’t get us answers.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ spat AK. ‘Firs
t she explains, then I decide.’

  ‘He broke free,’ Mum was standing on her toes now, trying to escape the blade. ‘I could feel it breaking. I ran back here. My notes. I can get him back. I promise.’

  AK’s face twisted as Mum gasped out her response. Like each word was a finger in his face. ‘What about my boys? Where the fuck are they? You seen the news? It’s fucking carnage.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Can you find out?’ asked the old man.

  ‘I can try. Re-establish the connection. Please. Please, my daughter—’

  ‘I should fucking kill you,’ snarled AK. ‘This just cost us millions. Police could be coming for us, right now.’

  ‘The police will be the least of our troubles,’ said the old man. ‘He’ll be coming for us. We need her.’ Jamison put a hand into the crook of the man’s knife arm. ‘Kill her and you might as well kill yourself. Unless you can think of another Abra we can be certain won’t turn us in?’

  AK considered this, licking his lips.

  He pushed Mum hard, sending her tumbling back over the sofa, magazines and empty plates tumbling as she fell to the floor with a crash.

  AK jerked his arm away from Jamison, pointing the knife at his two men. ‘Send a couple of boys to fetch Coleman. I want her now.’

  ‘Now just—’ Jamison didn’t get the words out. The knife was a silver streak in the air. Steph could swear she saw an arc of red. The old man staggered back with a look of horror, a neat cut across his left cheek already running crimson.

  ‘Tell me what to do again and I’ll gut you right after her. Coleman was our safety net you said. Part of the deal. Well we’re fucking falling and I want her at the club now. She resists, kill her.’

  ‘Just let me call her,’ Jamison gasped, whipping a handkerchief from his pocket and holding it to his face. ‘Not everything has to be a show of force. She’ll be waiting for you there.’

  ‘Reeves will be after her too,’ said Mum, climbing to her feet. ‘She was there at the summoning. He was fascinated by her. But I don’t need her. I’ll get him back. I promise.’

  ‘You’ll fucking kill him,’ said AK, wiping the blade clean on the sofa. ‘Get started. You two, take the girl.’

  Steph didn’t even know that AK had registered her presence. ‘Mum?’ she asked as the men approached.

  But Mum didn’t even look up from the floor. ‘Don’t make trouble,’ she said.

  The big men closed in. Steph didn’t know what to do.

  ‘What are you doing?’ the old man was pale. The handkerchief was already soaked red. His eyes darted to the knife again as AK rounded on him.

  ‘She’s not skipping out on us again. That one’s collateral.’

  ‘We agreed—’

  ‘Fuck what we agreed. I’ve had enough of you whining in my ear. This isn’t the old days and this isn’t your business. Fuck you. Fuck the Indians. The deal is off. Now either shut up or you can join her.’

  The old man had frozen on the spot, his tongue working in his dry mouth as he bit back a response. ‘We’ve become terrorists,’ he said.

  ‘We’re being pragmatic. ’Sides, this one can do magic an all. She dies, we got this one as a spare.’

  ‘We will not—’

  The two gorillas had paused to watch the altercation, Steph temporarily forgotten.

  She began to tap at her phone. If she could just open a line to Karina, let her know what was happening.

  ‘Boys, pay a-fucking-ttention,’ said AK.

  Steph brought the phone up to her ear, backing away heart in her mouth. There was nothing but silence, the call waiting to connect.

  They were on her in a moment, the phone snatched from her hand.

  One grabbed her wrists. She was forced back into the wall so hard she heard the mirror in her room rattle. Her nose was assaulted by the man’s hot breath, she could have counted every nostril hair if she’d wanted to. But she was too busy watching the other man sever the call.

  ‘Who was she calling?’ demanded AK.

  ‘Says here “Karina”’

  Steph didn’t even dare looking at her mum, afraid of the expression she would see there. The betrayal.

  ‘Who’s Karina?’

  ‘A politician,’ Mum answered. ‘We met when I first arrived—’

  ‘Why was she calling her?’

  Steph squirmed but the man only tightened his grip and she stopped. She could feel her mum’s eyes on her.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Get her out of here.’

  The man began to tug her towards the door. Steph should have fought, should have screamed but all she wanted to do was curl up on herself.

  The old man only watched, hand up to his face like a shocked Victorian madam.

  Mum didn’t say another word.

  Chapter 15

  Steph

  The present – eighty-four hours to destination

  The train juddered, the quad bike behind her squeaking on its suspension.

  Steph hadn’t seen Karina since, instead spending the last few months locked away, leverage to make sure her mother followed orders.

  Would Karina be looking for her?

  Would she have noticed that the day Steph disappeared was the same day that Reeves caused a massacre?

  How relieved would she be if Steph turned up on her doorstep? With her mother’s notes and a breakthrough to share?

  With a shiver of goosebumps, Steph turned to her stolen pages. Even at a glance, she could see the banishing would be taxing on even the most powerful Abra. How had Mum planned to draw the necessary power?

  Lump rising in her throat, she turned the page. Oh. Right.

  ‘How is he?’ she heard Amanda say, her voice spiking through Steph’s thoughts with a twist of hate.

  ‘Fine,’ Caleb rumbled.

  ‘He even awake?’ asked Skeebs.

  ‘No. Still out.’

  ‘But you saying he was awake,’ said Skeebs, ‘right?’

  ‘No,’ said Amanda. ‘He was no different. Doesn’t seem to be trying it any more. Effort wore him out and the chains pulled him back in.’

  ‘He must be pretending. No way he can do that and still be asleep.’

  Steph snorted. She knew the truth but wasn’t going to volunteer it. The demon had never been asleep. It lurked and watched while the meat it inhabited slept and healed. It had built enough strength to push through her mother’s flawed wardings to try and escape but Amanda had held it off. It was listening now, gathering its strength for another attempt.

  ‘Forget it,’ said Caleb. ‘He’s out. Think I can’t tell the difference?’

  ‘All I’m saying is, if he’s like this when he’s asleep, how bad’s he going to be when he’s awake?’

  Worse, thought Steph with a shudder.

  ‘You’re the only one who knows the answer to that,’ said Amanda.

  ‘And when were you going to tell me about the whole possession thing?’

  ‘Probably never. Doesn’t change anything.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me? Where’s the sense in that? If I’d known then I wouldn’t have tried to do him just now. Or in the van.’

  ‘Well you know now. You try to kill him, could be you he’s wearing by the time we get to the circle.’

  ‘That’s a headfuck, man. Can’t we keep him down? Like with tranqs or something?’

  ‘We tried that. He just shrugged them off. It’s the chains, they’re helping keep him under. There’s no telling how strong he’d be without them. Bridget said when he started to get around the chains, we were to give him a beating. That’d buy us time. We just didn’t think we’d have so little.’

  ‘Then how about we keep beating on him?’

  ‘Can’t risk going too far,’ said Caleb. ‘He dies it’s our lives on the line.’

  ‘Alright then, explain this. He got hold of you, how come he had you beating on Caleb? Why not just get you to beat his own brains out? Then he jumps into you
or me or whatever and he’s not in chains no more.’

  Steph snorted again. There was a lull in the conversation. This time she knew that they had heard her and she regretted making the sounds at all.

  ‘Because a jump takes a lot out of him,’ said Amanda. ‘Takes a lot of power. He’d done that then he’d have lost his hold on me. Then whoever was left would have had time to check to see who he jumped into, looking for those tattoos, and get him back in chains. By the time he got his strength back to try again we’d have made it to the circle. I reckon his play was to get me to kill the rest of you, make it so I was the only one he could hop into. Then he’d have had me kill him last. He’d jump into me and be free and clear. No one around to stop him. But we’re onto him now. We stay on our toes, train keeps moving, the plan keeps working. In the end, that’s it.’

  ‘What about her? What you getting her to do?’

  Steph heard the sigh. ‘Heat up some water. I could do with a brew.’

  Hearing Amanda approach, Steph leapt to her feet, her bravery deserting her. She fumbled to shove the notes back up her top.

  Amanda pushed through the curtain and stood over her. Her eyes widened and Steph realised the pen was still hanging out of her mouth.

  Whipping it away, the girl dredged up a scowl which broke the moment that Amanda’s eyes travelled down to her midriff. The shape of the papers beneath her top were embarrassingly obvious.

  Amanda glared at them. She didn’t need to ask what they were.

  Steph didn’t know what to say. Too afraid that even the slightest noise or movement might break the fragile, breathless interlude before all hell broke loose.

  To her surprise, Amanda was the first to look away, scratching at an eyebrow.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Amanda.

  She did as she was told, perching herself on the front of the quad. She pulled the notes out from under her top, holding them in her lap.

  Amanda glanced at them before looking away again with a frustrated snort.

  The woman crouched down before her, wincing and keeping her back straight. It took some of the menace out of her.

 

‹ Prev