‘You’re not wrong,’ said Monkeyboy. ‘Come on, keep going.’
‘Who’s that?’ SpeedKing peered at the display.
‘Where?’
‘Figure behind the crucifix, in black.’
‘There’s not a … oh, fuck, it’s him!’
As Monkeyboy spoke, the figure darted out from behind the cross and positioned itself between the two men and the door. SpeedKing stood frozen to the spot, holding on to the bike, and Monkeyboy ran out to face the figure, waving his cleaver in front of him.
‘Come on, you fucker!’ he shouted. ‘Come and get it!’
Monkeyboy danced from side to side, jabbing the cleaver at the figure in black, whose face was hidden by the balaclava he wore. The man backed away, but not quickly enough; Monkeyboy swiped the blade wildly, caught the man’s forearm and drew blood. Slayer grunted with pain, then ran at Monkeyboy. Monkeyboy panicked and threw the knife at the killer; he missed, and Slayer picked the cleaver up and started brandishing it at Monkeyboy. He looked like he had a better idea of what to do with it, as well. He dropped into a crouch and started circling, and Monkeyboy turned to keep facing him. SpeedKing wheeled the bike back to give Monkeyboy more room, or so Monkeyboy thought. Then SpeedKing yelled, ‘Get back here, now!’ Monkeyboy ran back and SpeedKing ran at the masked man with the bike, then let go of the handlebars. Before the man had a chance to react, the Harley slammed into him and he fell; the bike landed on top of him.
‘Run!’ shouted SpeedKing, already moving for the door; Monkeyboy didn’t need telling twice.
‘What the fuck …?’ said Indigo as the pair clattered down the stairs towards him and JacktheRiffer.
‘It’s him! The killer, he’s there! Come on, four of us can take him, come on!’ shouted SpeedKing.
‘He’s got a knife, be careful!’ warned Monkeyboy, as the four of them ran back up the stairs.
Indigo was first into the room, followed by SpeedKing. They looked around, knives held out in front of them, but there was nothing to see.
‘He was under the bike,’ Monkeyboy said, as he entered the room, JacktheRiffer at his heels.
‘He’s not there now,’ Indigo said.
SpeedKing looked around, but there was no sign of the man. He looked at the Harley and his heart sank. ‘Well, that’s that fucked,’ he said. ‘Bastard!’
Monkeyboy looked at the cleaver he’d thrown at the killer, now embedded in the ruined front tyre of the bike, and bent forward to pull it free. ‘At least he didn’t get to keep the knife,’ he said. Then he looked at the grim tableau. ‘Not that he needs it.’
‘Where did he go?’ said Indigo. There were spots of blood near the bike, evidence of Monkeyboy having cut the creepy killer, but no tell-tale trail of droplets leading anywhere.
‘Fuck knows’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘There’s obviously far more to this house than meets the eye, though, so he could be anywhere by now.’
‘Let’s get back to the others,’ said Indigo. ‘The bike option’s been nixed, we need to stick together. Safety in numbers and all that.’
Chapter 31
‘Okay, supposing we do try to find civilisation, how will we handle it?’ asked JacktheRiffer. ‘Like, will we all go, what direction will we head in, who will we call if we get to a phone, what will we say to them about what we were doing here?’
‘Thinking about the last bit first,’ said Indigo, ‘we don’t know how to contact The Last Weekend people, so we ring the emergency services. We can be upfront about what we were doing here. It’s Reaperman who would have been in bother about it and they can’t do anything to him, now. They don’t lock people up for being suicidal any more.’
‘Yes, they do,’ said BlackWidow. ‘They just don’t lock them up in prison.’ She regarded her fellows. ‘They could have us all committed.’
‘They’d have to let us out before long, though, surely,’ said Monkeyboy. ‘I mean, we might all be depressives, but that’s a long way short of madness.’
‘You could end up in the control of your family. If they thought you would kill yourself if you were let out, wouldn’t they break their necks to keep you in there?’
Monkeyboy shrugged. ‘So we make a happy face for a while. Say that what happened here made us realise how precious life is.’
‘I’m not sure I could pull that one off,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Not after …’
Mayfly slipped her hand into Indigo’s and squeezed. He returned the pressure.
‘None of this will matter,’ said Monkeyboy, ‘if we don’t get out in the first place. And, let’s be honest, we’re going to have some pretty difficult questions to answer, even if we tough it out until help arrives. The authorities are going to have to be called. Whatever The Last Weekend people had planned to do to cover for our deaths, it isn’t going to work with this lot.’ He thought of Technogeek with his mutilated face and throat, the skewer in his ear, and a chill scampered down his spine.
‘So, we’re back to who goes, and in what direction,’ said Mayfly.
‘The weather’s improved – the wind’s dropped and the rain has stopped for the first time in ages,’ said SpeedKing. ‘I think a couple of us should check out the lie of the land and then, when we know where we’re going, we should all go together.’
‘Do you think we need to take anything with us?’ asked Monkeyboy.
‘We can’t be all that far from a town or a main road,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Surely we’re not more than a couple of hours’ walk, at most. I know Reaperman said there was nowhere within walking distance, but this is the UK, for Christ’s sake. The island’s not that big.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Monkeyboy. ‘We’ll be exposed while we’re out there.’
‘Do you think he has a gun?’ asked JacktheRiffer. ‘If so, he could just pick us off individually, if we’re out in the open.’
‘We know he’s got a knife and we know he’s handy with the knockout drops, as well,’ said SpeedKing. ‘I’ll bet he used them to overpower Reaperman before stringing him up.’
‘And to grab Technogeek,’ said Monkeyboy. Nervously he checked over his shoulder. ‘Must have crept up behind him and then—’
‘Stop it!’ said Mayfly. ‘Stop it! You’re scaring me, and you’re scaring yourselves. If we keep on like this, we’ll never leave the house. We’ll be too afraid to leave.’
‘She’s right, guys,’ said Indigo. ‘Let’s stick to positive planning. We know we’ve got to be careful. I reckon we stand a better chance if we’re not overly twitchy.’
‘Okay, then,’ said Monkeyboy. ‘Do we agree with SpeedKing’s suggestion that a couple of us go out first and scout the road?’
‘Makes sense to me,’ said Indigo. ‘Show of hands?’ He put his hand up. The others all followed suit.
‘Right. Now we need to decide who’s going.’
‘I’ll go,’ said SpeedKing. ‘I need to get out, I’m going crazy, cooped up in here.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ said JacktheRiffer.
‘Everyone okay with that?’ asked Monkeyboy.
They chorused their agreement.
‘Right, man,’ said SpeedKing, clapping JacktheRiffer on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go and get our jackets.’
They ran upstairs and got their coats, then came back down to where the others were waiting in the hall.
‘Here’s the front door key,’ said BlackWidow, taking it from the front pocket of her handbag and handing it to SpeedKing.
He handed it to Indigo. ‘Keep it here,’ he said. ‘If anything happens to us, you’ll need it. We’ll bang on the door to be let back in.’
Mayfly and Indigo went with them to the front door, saw them out, then locked it behind them. When they got back to the others, BlackWidow was organising a late breakfast, plus gathering together some food and bottled water to take on the journey. ‘We don’t know how long we’ll be out there,’ she said. ‘We should take provisions, just in case.’
***
‘
I’d love us to strike lucky and find a road sign right outside,’ JacktheRiffer said, as they walked down the drive to the main gates.
SpeedKing snorted. ‘I wish! What do you reckon, should we head on up the road a bit, see if there are any clues?’
‘Yeah, makes sense. If we give it about fifteen minutes at a fast pace, that’s about a mile. I seem to remember the bus turned in from the left, so that might be the way to go.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I remember, too. Left it is.’
They arrived at the gates. They were wrought iron, about ten feet high, and padlocked. A tall stone wall disappeared into shrubbery and under ivy to either side. ‘Looks like we’re climbing,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Hope you’ve got a head for heights.’ He hoisted himself up on to the gate and climbed it, using the intricate wrought-iron decoration as hand and footholds. He swung a leg over the top and called back down to SpeedKing from his perch, ‘It’s not too bad, mate.’ He swung the other leg over and jumped down on the other side. SpeedKing followed his lead, scrambling up the gates and dropping down into the road.
The road they were standing on was single track and in poor repair. ‘That explains all the jolts and bumps on the way in, then,’ observed SpeedKing. He looked around. ‘No clues, though.’
‘Come on,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘Let’s go.’
The men strode along the road in silence, listening for anything out of the ordinary, looking for something that might indicate exactly where they were.
‘It’s nice and quiet, anyway,’ said JacktheRiffer. All that could be heard was sporadic birdsong. ‘Under different circumstances, this would be a nice walk.’
SpeedKing checked his watch. ‘We’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes. That’s about a mile at this pace.’
‘Have you got your mobile on you?’
SpeedKing nodded.
‘Might as well check for a signal, while we’re here.’
‘Good idea.’ SpeedKing got the tiny phone out of his pocket and turned it on. ‘No signal.’ He waved it around and checked again. ‘No, still nothing. I think we should head back and get the others.’
‘Tell you what, why don’t we go back and then walk for fifteen minutes in the other direction?’
‘They’ll be worried.’
‘They’ll be okay. Besides, it could save us hours of time later, and you might get a signal, there.’
‘Fair point. You’re on.’
‘You said you’d biked around here a couple of years back,’ said JacktheRiffer. ‘What was that like?’
‘Oh, fantastic! I had a month off work, a brand-new Harley, a pocket full of money and a gorgeous woman riding pillion,’ said SpeedKing. ‘We spent the best part of three weeks tooling around Europe, then came back to Britain for the last week. Scotland was our final stop.’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked along the deserted road. ‘It should have been the holiday of a lifetime.’
‘What happened, man?’
‘It started off really well. We had a great time. Then Astrid started ... just getting on my nerves, really.’
‘Astrid?’
‘Yeah, she was Scandinavian. Long blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, about five foot ten, stacked.’ He grinned. ‘She took a bit of keeping up with, you know what I’m saying?’
JacktheRiffer laughed. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I get the picture.’
‘We’d only known each other a week or so before we took off. So, while we were still in the “just getting to know you, still making the effort, isn’t this nice” stage, we were fine. But that doesn’t last, especially when you’re together 24/7. All the little things that had been so cute in the first few weeks, like the way she tossed her hair, or laughed at her own jokes, or only drank “good” coffee, really started to get on my tits. She was gorgeous looking, but totally self-obsessed. Start a conversation with Astrid about any subject under the sun, and within two minutes it was all about her. I was glad she was on the back of the bike and not sitting next to me in a car, I can tell you. I’d have gone mental if I’d had to listen to her wittering on all the time. Do you know, even when I’d got to the stage when I could barely stand to look at her, I still used to shag her. It was the only way I knew to stop her talking.’
‘Must have been a real chore,’ said JacktheRiffer, wryly.
SpeedKing laughed. ‘Yeah, well, you know. Some things have their compensations, I suppose. Anyway, by the time we got to Scotland, we were really in trouble. I amused myself by just tearing up the roads.’ He grinned. ‘I hadn’t stopped loving my bike, that was for sure, and it handled like a dream. They’re heavy, but very responsive. And fast. Very fast. We rode up the east coast, nipped over to Shetland on the ferry, then came back and headed from Aberdeen over to the west coast and back down. Christ, it’s just beautiful. Scenery like that, it can almost make you believe in God.
‘I was tear-arsing over Glen Coe this day when the mist and the rain hit us. We’d had great weather up until then. Astrid wanted to stop and fanny on with her hair ’cos it was getting wet. I kept telling her she should tuck it down her jacket – it used to get tangled up and full of flies and shit on long rides – but she said she liked the way it felt when it was loose. Of course, what she really liked was the attention she got when it was streaming out behind her. Just like she loved climbing off the bike and seeing blokes ogling her in her leathers. Posing bitch.’
‘Did you stop?’
‘Did I fuck. I should have, though. Not stopping was a big mistake.’
‘How come?’
SpeedKing checked his watch. ‘Time to turn round.’ He checked the mobile, but there was still nothing. He looked at JacktheRiffer and shook his head, then turned the phone off again and put it back in his pocket.
‘No signal, and no clues as to where we are. Damn!’ said JacktheRiffer.
SpeedKing walked on a little way before he continued his story. ‘Astrid was a woman who was used to getting her own way. She wasn’t used to being ignored, and I’d taken to doing that to her a fair old bit by then. She decided that the best way to get my attention was to try to pull my bash hat off.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘I wish I was.’
‘But that’s fucking mental! She could have killed you both.’
‘She never considered the consequences of her actions, other than to make the world behave the way she wanted it to. And she very nearly did. Kill us both, I mean.’
‘What happened, mate?’
‘I had to fight her off. I slowed down, but I veered across the road. I heard a horn and when I looked, I was on the wrong side of the road with this fucking great wagon bearing down on me. I steered the bike out of its path, but the road was slippery and I lost control. We skidded, flipped and ended up in a ditch. I got thrown clear, I got away with a busted leg, but Astrid … the bike landed on top of Astrid. She didn’t stand a chance.’
‘Fuck! Hardly your fault, though.’
‘Practically every bone in her body was broken, plus her hair had got caught up in the rear wheel, somehow. It scalped her, ripped it right out from under her helmet.’
‘Jesus!’
‘Luckily a couple of people had seen what happened and so I wasn’t done for dangerous driving or anything. They can’t charge you for touring with a mad bird, thank God.’ He walked on, his head down. ‘She was still dead, though, and however much she might have got on my tits, she didn’t deserve that.’ He looked up and shot JacktheRiffer a quirky little smile. ‘Bike was a write-off as well. I was gutted.’
‘You were lucky to be alive.’
‘I still limp in the cold weather. It was a bad break.’ He shrugged. ‘I should have stopped, though. If I’d stopped, none of it would have happened.’ The sight of Astrid’s hair, tangled in the wheel of the bike, bloody, tattered scalp attached, would haunt him forevermore.
The men came to a halt as they found themselves back at the wrought iron gates, no wiser as to where they were or which direc
tion might take them to civilisation soonest.
‘Come on, let’s get back inside,’ said JacktheRiffer. He started to climb up the wrought iron. ‘I vote we go back the way we came in on Friday night. At least we know there’s something in that direction eventually, even if it’s just a faster road.’ He heard boots scuffling on the tarmac and reckoned SpeedKing was keeping a watchful eye while he waited for his turn to climb. ‘Also, we can check your phone for a signal every fifteen minutes or so. What do you reckon?’
There was no reply. When he reached the top of the gates, JacktheRiffer swung a leg over and perched, then turned back to see why SpeedKing hadn’t answered him. He felt a chill spread through him, starting in the pit of his stomach: the road was empty. SpeedKing was nowhere to be seen.
‘Mate?’ he called, quietly at first, looking around from his vantage point. He saw nothing. ‘SpeedKing!’ he shouted. He was starting to panic. ‘Stop fucking about. Where are you, man?’ He craned his neck, looked up and down the road as far as he could, but could see no sign of SpeedKing. He peered into the bushes that lined the far side of the road, rhododendrons with huge feathery ferns beneath them, backed up by trees with shadowy depths. SpeedKing could be anywhere. One thing was certain: the killer must have got him, taken him silently while JacktheRiffer’s attention was on the climb over the gates. Which meant that he had followed them. Which meant that he could spy on them at will and that he had his own ways of leaving and entering the house. Which meant that they weren’t safe anywhere.
‘Oh, fuck, man, I’m sorry,’ JacktheRiffer whispered, ‘I’m so fucking sorry.’ Then he climbed back into the grounds of the house and ran as fast as he could to the front door, beat on it with his fists when he got there and shouted for the others to hurry up and let him back inside.
Monkeyboy opened the door and let him in. ‘Jesus Christ! What’s happened?’ he said, as JacktheRiffer pushed past him to get into the house. Monkeyboy peered outside. ‘Where’s SpeedKing?’
‘Shut the door! I don’t know where he is, he must have got him. The killer.’
***
The Last Weekend Page 16