“Check his coat pocket.”
“No, he’s got it on,” she says hands on hips and looking around the room. “I know!” Cassie blurts remembering Zak coming in from the yard. He’d swung the keys from his finger and chucked them onto the side. “There!” Cassie says, “They should be next to the cannisters,” she continues as she jumps across the kitchen to the counter next to the door. “Yes!” Between the wall and the group of herb jars, sit the keys to the pick-up.
Grabbing the keys, she holds them up in triumph then darts out of the door to the red truck parked at the far side of the yard. Rick follows and jumps in beside her. She drops the keys on the floor. Rick remains silent and she’s glad of that. She reaches down and grabs them from the floor then slips the key into the ignition. Gears in neutral, handbrake on, she turns the key. The engine gives a sluggish churn. Her heart hammers in her chest as a stone seems to sink in her belly. She tries again, and again the engine churns, but doesn’t catch. She slams her hands against the wheel and throws herself back against the seat. “Damn!”
“Let me try,” Rick suggests.
They change places and Rick turns the key in the ignition as Cassie sits, her belly clenched. “Please! Please, come on!” she whispers as Rick turns the key. The engine gives a sluggish churn then dies.
“Battery’s dead,” he confirms.
“What are we going to do?” she asks as panic rises.
“We’ll have to wait for Zak to get back then take that car. In the meantime, we put this battery on charge.”
“Oh, Rick. They’ll be so far away by then.”
“We know where to find them,” Rick replies.
How can he be so calm when their children have been taken? “If that Saskia harms a hair on their heads I’ll … I’ll kill her.”
“We’ll find them, Cassie. I promise.”
“Turn off here.”
“But that’s not the way home.”
“You’re not wrong. There’s someone I want to see before we go back.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Maurice”
“You’re kidding right? Saskia, you are playing with fire! Lennox won’t have anything to do with him.” Saskia’s belly tightens as she remembers the flicker of emotion that had crossed his face when she’d mentioned Maurice to him before as a potential client.
“This is my business. I’ll run it the way I want to run it, Sergei.”
“OK. OK. You know he was in prison for murder though, right? That’s what they say anyway—that he’d still be behind bars if everything hadn’t gone tits up.”
She grunts her response.
“What makes you think he’ll want them anyway?”
“He’s a farmer. It’s always the farmers who want them. They need them on the land. He’ll be a long-term client - repeat business - so, I want him to see our new product. I know he’ll be interested—especially in the girl.”
“Hah! You just can’t stand it, can you?”
“What can’t I stand?”
“The competition. You think Lennox will want her for himself so you’re getting rid of her before he has a chance to have a look.”
“You think I care about that? We’ll get a good deal from Maurice.”
The van turns off the road and they head towards Blakemore, and the home of Maurice Stamford.
Fifteen minutes later a group of men gather at the back of the van as Saskia stands proudly in front of the closed doors.
“I promise you Maurice, you’ll be very pleased with what I’ve brought for you,” she says addressing the eldest man in the group. His hair is thinning and greasy, combed back over a freckled pate. His nose has the distinctive orange-peel effect of a man past his prime, and the bags under his eyes are puffy, the skin slack. He’s not without strength though, she notes as she takes in the broadness of his shoulders, the still strong muscles of his arms beneath his t-shirt, the lean waist beneath his leather belt. He draws a cigarette to his mouth and blows out the smoke. It envelopes the group in a haze, but none react. Saskia wafts at the stinking cloud with her hand.
“Open up then,” he returns with impatience, scratching the side of his nose with his finger, the cigarette dangerously close to his lashes. Saskia holds back a grimace of disgust as he hooks his thumbnail beneath his nostril and scrapes at it.
Saskia opens the doors. Inside Loz sits with the two teenagers. The girl looks younger than she’d remembered even from when they’d grabbed her—her height made her look older. She can’t be more than thirteen years old, perhaps younger.
“Yes,” Maurice says as he steps up to the van. “I’m very interested.”
A wave of cold washes over Saskia as she looks from girl—and she is a girl, not the young woman she’d imagined—to Maurice. The lust in his eyes as he steps forward and peers to the back of the van is sickening. Saskia is overwhelmed by the urge to slam the doors shut and punch him in the face. The hairs on her neck creep as she watches him smile at the girl. Before he can take another step closer, and without further thought, she steps to block the entrance.
“You’ve had a look,” she says grabbing for the open door and pulling it closed. It slams shut as her heart pounds and she bolts it from the inside then turns back to Maurice. “The product isn’t ready yet,” she says as her stomach churns. Maurice raises his brows in surprise. “No, it’s not ready. When it is I’ll let you know,” she finishes and grabs for the other door, slams it shut as her skin crawls. Her hand trembles as she inserts the key into the lock.
Maurice frowns then scowls. “What’s going on? You come up here and offer me the girl and now you’re just leaving?”
“Yes,” she replies with a firm voice though she doesn’t meet his questioning stare. “Sergei, let’s go.”
“You’re playing with me,” he says with a voice rising in anger. “How much? How much do you want? Is that it—you’re just trying to get the best price?”
“I’ll let you know when the product is ready,” she says as she walks to the door and passes the keys to Sergei.
Sliding into her seat she slams the door as Maurice comes to the window and gestures for her to open it. “Step on it, Sergei,” she says as Maurice knocks on the glass.
The engine starts, Maurice raps on the window, his angry face huge against the glass, and she groans with relief as the van pulls away.
“What the hell, Saskia? What are you playing at?”
“The girl—she’s just a kid.”
“And?”
“And he’s an old man. I just couldn’t … did you see the look on his face when he saw her?”
“He’s a nonce?”
“Yeah, and if there’s one thing I can’t abide in this world it’s one of them.”
“Agreed. So, you are human then?”
“Pah! They disgust me they do—those men. They all want castrating.”
“Back home then?”
“Yep! Back home.”
“To your house?”
“No, back to the farm. Lennox is a lot of things but he won’t be interested in the girl—not that way. And she’s too young for the House. She can work in the kitchen—they can both work the land.”
Chapter 26
Dark is descending as the headlights from Zak’s car appear in the driveway. The battery is still barely charged and Cassie has spent the afternoon collecting weapons and provisions. They sit in two bags at her feet as she notices the headlights of Zaks’s car on the road. Before he has turned up the driveway she is outside with the bags in her hands. Dressed in the combats and boots Rick found for her at the department store as they fled the city when everything collapsed, she’s ready to face the enemy and this time Saskia’s the one who will come off the worst—she’s going to make sure of that.
As Zak pulls up into the yard, she approaches him with calm. All her earlier desperation and panic has gone, replaced with a cold determination to catch the kidnappers and rescue her children. God would have to forgive them, because sh
e certainly wasn’t going to.
“What is it?” Zak asks as he steps out of the car.
“Saskia has taken Celie and Harry.”
“Who? Oh!” he says as he remembers. “Saskia?” Their adventure at the supermarket and the B&B has never been forgotten. “Why has she got Celie and Harry?”
“We think they’ve kidnapped them because …” Cassie can’t finish her sentence.
“We think they’re out looking for workers. We can’t think why else they’d be grabbing kids like that,” Rick fills in.
“Oh.”
“We need to go and get them back,” Cassie says catching Zak’s eyes. “You’re coming with us.”
“Try and stop me,” he replies. “The car needs more fuel though.”
Ten minutes later and Rick is at the wheel. The car has three-quarters of a tank of fuel – the last of their store – and they’re on their way to the town.
“Do you think she’s still at the same house?”
“I have no idea. But we know what the van looks like. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find them.”
They work their way along the road that sits high on the hills and looks down over the valley. The river runs into the land cutting north from south and as they move, the bridge, with its huge concrete pillars, comes into view.
“The town’s at the bottom of that,” Cassie says. “We’re nearly there.”
Deacon leans against the bonnet of the van. In the distance a car’s engine sounds. It seems that this was going to be another fruitful day. He gestures to Jake and Chris to get behind the vehicle and out of sight. This time he’s not taking any chances and the van is parked across the road—the driver will have no choice but to stop. After this one, he’ll head back home and rest. Being evil was bloody draining.
Dan lugs the bag against his shoulder. It feels lumpy and awkward against his back, but he’s pleased with himself. Today, for the first time in two weeks, he’s managed to catch something for them to eat. And not just anything. Forget rabbit (damned things!) and squirrels (damn them even more!) no, he’d only gone and caught a deer. The meat would last them for weeks, months if Monica cured it with the salt he’d found. As he reaches the edge of the woods, he checks first left then right and is startled when the headlights of a car shine through the canopy that sits above the lane. Bright in the mauve of the moonlight, it shines into his eyes, blinding him, and he squeezes his eyes shut then rubs at them. Brakes screech and he steps back. He’s given up hiding in the hedgerows. The number of people he sees on a monthly basis is minimal and the last time he’d tried to hide when a van appeared, he’d only managed to topple into a ditch and pull Monica with him. From that moment on she’d refused to be afraid and hide from newcomers.
Though his heart skips a beat at the sound of the engine, he stands his ground and watches the car move towards him. He looks away from the glare of the light as the car slows then stops about fifty feet away. He pulls at the bag on his shoulder. Perhaps he should have stepped back into the forest. What if they took the deer? There was talk about gangs stopping travellers and taking their food and fuel. He takes a step back and turns again to the woods.
“Dan!” a voice calls.
His heart thuds hard in his chest. The only person who has called his name in the last eighteen months is Monica. It’s not her voice.
“Dan Morgan!” it comes again.
Stay calm. Be strong.
A stone, heavy with the world, seems to sink down into his belly as he turns.
“Dan Morgan! Turn around right now!” she insists.
Cassie!
He turns and the hairs on his neck prickle as he sees her standing there. She’s dressed just as she was when he left her, but she’s thinner and her hair is longer with a dark patch of roots that reaches her ears. He can’t discern her emotion, but his is of dread. Is she here to berate him or, from the look now covering her face, kill him?
She steps out of the car as he takes a step towards her then freezes.
“Dan,” she calls as she walks forward. He can barely meet her gaze, but he forces himself to look at her. “Dan!” she calls again. She’s running, her arms wide, and then she’s surrounding him, holding him tight, squeezing the breath from his chest. A deep sob erupts from her and his nose prickles as tears threaten. “Dan! It is you,” she cries.
“Yes, it’s me, Cassie,” he says looking to the car as she clings to him, her head on his chest. A man—yes, Rick, and the boy, step out of the car to watch.
“Where have you been? I came to look for you. I’ve been wanting to come and find you all this time,” she blurts, snot dribbling now onto her lip. She wipes it away with her sleeve.
“I’ve been here,” he says looking around to the houses further along the road that mark the threshold of the village.
“Here?” she says with surprise. “So close! And on your own?”
“At first, but not now,” he says thinking of Monica waiting for him.
“Oh,” she says. “I’m … I’m glad of that. I hated to think of you on your own.”
“What about the other kids?” he asks remembering the collection of people he’d left behind at the B&B.
“That’s why we’re here! That woman—the one who shot at us at the supermarket—she kidnapped them this afternoon. We-”
“What the hell? Kidnapped them?”
“Yes, she took Celie and Harry. They were out picking brambles and she came along with a van and just took them!”
“No!” he says staring down at her. “What can I do to help?” he asks without a second thought.
“Come with us!”
“Come with you?”
“Yes. The more we are, the stronger we are. Right now, it’s just me, Zak and Rick,” she explains looking back to the car and tugging at his sleeves. “Come with us. We can talk later—once we’ve found them.”
“Well-”
“I’m not losing you—not again.”
“Well, there’s …” He thinks to Monica waiting for him. “I have to go home first. Get changed and get a weapon or something, and tell … tell Monica where I’m going.”
“Monica?”
“Yes,” he replies looking down at Cassie and watches as the pain flits across her eyes. He flinches, nothing has changed there—he’s still hurting her—just like he always used to. “Cassie,” he says holding her forearm as she pulls away to walk back to the car. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, Dan,” she says with sadness. “Me too. We can talk about this … mess, once we’ve got the kids back. Let’s go tell Monica. OK?”
“OK,” he replies and the familiar feeling of being judged and found wanting, so familiar from his childhood, washes over him again and his shoulders sag.
They drive back into town in a thick and uncomfortable silence.
“There it is. The supermarket,” Rick says pointing to the low-roofed building squatting down the hill.
“Let’s check it out. I can’t imagine she’s let it go. It’s probably a fortress by now.”
As they roll down the hill and stop at the exit to the supermarket’s car park, Cassie sighs. The supermarket sits in pitch-blackness, it’s plate-glass windows smashed, the entrance unguarded and open.
“It’s empty. Turn around. She’s not here.”
“What are we going to do then—if she’s not here?”
“We’ll keep looking until we find her,” Dan replies.
“Look out for a black van with BRP Autos written down the side.”
Rick turns the car around and heads back up the hill to the outer road that takes them down to the centre of town. At the top of the hill he can see right down and back up through the town’s market place. Ahead, at the junction, a black van crosses.
“There!” he shouts almost jumping from his seat. “The van. It just went over the crossroads at the bottom of the hill.”
“Step on it, Rick” Dan commands.
“I am,” he says tersely.
&
nbsp; Dan hadn’t been with them more than twenty minutes but he was already getting on his wick. Rick puts his foot down on the accelerator and powers the car forward. It moves with satisfying speed.
“Look out!” Cassie calls and grabs hold of the dashboard as Rick slams on the brakes as three dogs run out onto the road.
“Bloody dogs!” Dan mutters.
“You nearly hit the big one!” Zak exclaims.
“Sorry!” Rick apologises. “Are you OK?” he asks turning to Cassie.
“Yeah,” she replies as she takes a calming breath.
“Zak, you OK?”
“Sure,” he says. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a chance of finding them now.”
Rick starts the stalled engine and continues down the road. A van appears from a turning further down the hill and drives towards them. Rick watches its progress with care, alert now as adrenaline courses through his body, and increases his speed. The van suddenly swerves and Rick brakes as it stops at an angle just ahead, blocking their way. The driver stares at him, then raises a hand as though in apology and opens his door to get out. Rick nods, taking a breath to calm the rage he feels growing inside. Everything seems to be conspiring against him and his patience is nearing its end.
“What’s going on?” Dan asks from the back.
“Broken down perhaps?” Cassie suggests though Rick can hear the doubt in her voice.
Rick pulls at the gear to shift it into reverse just as the driver jumps out of the cab and strides towards them. He’s a big man, broad-shouldered, well over six-feet tall with dark hair. His beard is plaited at the sides and capped with metal rings.
“Wow!” Cassie gasps as he steps onto the road.
Irked, Rick opens the door and stands with one foot on the tarmac. “We need to be on our way, fella,” he says as the man reaches him.
The Route to Justice: A post-apocalyptic survival thriller (A World Torn Down Book 5) Page 13