Darkness

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Darkness Page 23

by Heather Atkinson


  “Are you okay Mum?”

  “I’m fine sweetheart.”

  “Is Dad okay?”

  “He’s fine too.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  Rachel hated the fear in her daughter’s eyes, fear that something bad had happened to someone else she loved. “Because I miss your dad, that’s all. Sorry, I’m being soppy.”

  “You’re okay then?”

  “Totally fine,” she smiled. “Is Jackson with Jules?”

  “Yeah and Uncle Riley and Paula are still guarding the door. I said I’d get them all a coffee and a sandwich.”

  “Good girl, they need to keep up their strength. Let’s go to the canteen. I think you could use something to eat too.”

  As they walked away Rachel passed that nurse coming the other way, the one she’d seen everywhere recently, not just on the ward but in the canteen and around the corridors too. Rachel turned to watch her go, seeing which way she went. The woman walked straight past ICU and past Fletch without a backward glance before disappearing around the corner.

  Rachel shook herself out of it, telling herself the woman was just an innocent member of staff but her instinct was telling her differently and she resolved to keep her eyes open.

  Ryan walked back into the hideout to find everyone checking their weapons.

  “Are we on the move?” he said.

  “Jez insists on it,” said Mikey, looking dour.

  “Where is he?”

  “Upstairs. He’s still really pissed off.”

  “Everyone, just stop what you’re doing. We’re not going anywhere just yet.”

  “Why not?” said Mikey.

  “Just give me a minute,” he called as he jogged upstairs.

  In one of the bedrooms he found Jez sliding a clip into a Glock pistol, face like granite.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” said Ryan casually.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “It appears you’re getting ready to storm The Homestead.”

  “Yeah, that is why we’re down here, isn’t it?”

  “Yes but now is not the time to strike.”

  Jez stuffed the gun into the back of his jeans and scowled. “Why not? All the bastards are gathered at The Homestead, like a nest of fucking rats. Let’s go and hit them so we can get poor Cara back.”

  “Because you’re not in the right frame of mind and we need to plan a strategy.”

  “We’ve already done that. What’s the point in pissing about any longer?”

  “Because we haven’t decided what we’re going to do about Estelle.”

  Jez produced a knife and gazed at the blade. “I have.”

  “I’m not going to let you do this.”

  “You know what Ryan, fuck you. You’re not my dad. Anyway, I’m doing you a favour. We all need the crazy bitch gone.”

  “You’re hurting and I can understand that…”

  “What the fuck do you know about it? You’ve always been a cold bastard, not showing any emotion. You probably don’t even give a shit about what happened to Jules.”

  The barb stung, the muscle in his jaw pulsating with anger. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again. How fucking dare you?”

  Jez sighed and held up his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t meant that.”

  “Of course I care but I manage to control my emotions, that’s the difference. I don’t let them rule me, unlike you. You’re going to charge in there all fired up and get yourself killed.”

  “I’m fucking not.”

  “Yes you will because you won’t be able to keep your mind on the task at hand. You’re going nowhere until you’ve calmed down and we’ve decided together what we’re going to do with Estelle.”

  “What do you need me for? You’ve probably already called Rachel and decided between you.”

  “I admit I did call her for advice and she said not to kill Estelle because it would forever haunt me and she’s right.”

  “You might be a friggin’ girl but I’m not. I’m going to dispatch that slag before she causes any more carnage.”

  “If you don’t get a grip of yourself I’ll knock you out and leave you tied up in a cupboard.”

  “I can’t believe how calm you’re being about this,” exclaimed Jez, throwing his arms wide.

  “I am far from calm I can assure you but, as you know, I don’t shout and jump about like the fool. Now let’s talk like grown-ups and decide how we’re going to deal with her because we are not going to kill her.”

  “Then what do you suggest? Sending her abroad didn’t work, threatening to bury her alive didn’t work.”

  “Battler gave me an idea. I agree that she definitely needs…removing. But we get someone else to do it.”

  “A hitman?” said Jez, looking a little more cheerful.

  “Precisely.”

  “But we’ll be the ones who’ve ordered it to be done.”

  “Better than doing it personally. Battler offered to do it himself but I made Rachel a promise not to, so we must find another…executioner.”

  “Yeah, alright, it’s not a bad idea but if that bitch is at The Homestead I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

  “If we can then we take her prisoner.”

  “Until we can find an executioner? Jesus Ryan, that’s cold.”

  “You were all for killing her yourself a second ago.”

  “Yeah, in the heat of battle, getting it over with in one go, not drawing it out. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  Ryan shook his head. “You know what? I’m all out of ideas. Do what you like.”

  “Wait,” said Jez when he turned to go. “Maybe we could ask Grant or Mark to do it?”

  “I’m not sure they’d be comfortable with it either.”

  “They’d no problem killing Katia, or trying to anyway and snatching her kids.”

  “Katia was a different matter, they’d had personal experience of her and understood how dangerous she was.”

  “Then we’re no closer than we were five minutes ago.”

  Ryan picked up the spare gun Jez had placed on the bed and slammed in a clip. “Then we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  “What the fuck are you doing up there?” Mikey bellowed up the stairs. “We need to move before the rats run from the sinking ship. Get a bloody move on, will you? We’re all standing around here like spare at a nightclub.”

  “Alright, keep your hair on,” said Jez, jogging down the stairs, followed by Ryan. “We’re here.”

  “Finally. You ready to move then?”

  Jez looked to Ryan, who nodded. He turned back to face Mikey. “You bet your fucking arse we are. Let’s go get my niece back and slaughter a shit load of southerners while we’re at it.”

  “Music to my ears,” said Mikey with a humourless smile.

  CHAPTER 30

  Gerry Cake drove them back to the warehouse where The Tank was already loaded on the back of the lorry.

  “Go on then, in you get,” said Gerry cheerfully.

  “Into The Tank?” said Ryan. “While it’s on the back of the truck?”

  “Yeah, why not?” frowned Gerry.

  “It’s easy for you to say that when you’re not going to be the one on it.” Ryan didn’t like it, it would be far too easy for someone to spring a trap on them. “We’ll take the cars instead and meet up with the truck.”

  “But that wasn’t the plan,” said Gerry.

  “I know and I’m changing it.” Ryan looked to Mikey and Jez and saw they were thinking exactly the same thing.

  “I agree with Ryan,” said Mikey. “If the coppers pull it over and search it, it’ll look a bit suss with all of us on it fully armed.”

  “You might have a point,” conceded Gerry.

  “Course we do.” Mikey held out his hand. “Keys please.”

  Gerry dumped them in his hand, smoothly concealing how annoyed he was by this lack of trust.

  “You’d do the same if yo
u were us,” said Jez.

  Gerry sighed and nodded. “Probably. Do you need any of my men for back-up?”

  Battler aggressively cocked the shotgun, making Gerry swallow hard. “No. We’ve got it.”

  “Open up The Tank,” said Ryan.

  Gerry blinked at him. “Eh?”

  “I said open up The Tank. Please,” he added impatiently.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to take a look.”

  “You think I’ve stuffed an army in there?” he said incredulously.

  “I’ll tell you what it is Gerry. We’re down here on enemy territory after our family was attacked by the Slatterys, who know full well we’ll be coming for Cara. We’ve known you five minutes, we don’t know what agendas you have or what your ultimate goal is.” Ryan’s eyes were as hard as steel as they sharpened and narrowed. “So, I would appreciate it if you would just open The fucking Tank.”

  Ryan spoke quietly and politely but Gerry was staring at him in astonishment, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He’d heard about this phenomenon with Ryan Law but he’d dismissed it as stupid rumour. Now he knew it was entirely true and he was actually afraid for his life. “Okay,” he said, clambering up onto the back of the truck, growing even more nervous when he sensed them all tense, well aware each of them was armed.

  “There,” said Gerry, opening both doors wide. “As you can see I haven’t stashed a hit squad in there.”

  “Excellent,” said Ryan, suddenly looking more affable, pocketing the gun he’d been holding at the ready. “Then we can leave.”

  Mark drove the first vehicle, a black four-by-four containing Battler, Shane, Mark and Mikey. The second - a blue transit van driven by Bruiser - contained Ryan, Jez and Grant. To any passing police cars they would just look like a couple of vehicles unlucky enough to get stuck behind a big lumbering truck on narrow country lanes.

  They made the journey without incident, the area so remote they only encountered two other cars, passing nothing but farms. They followed the truck as it pulled into a deserted farm, rolling to a halt behind one large, squat building, remaining in the cars while the truck driver got out to open up the rear doors.

  “Looks alright,” commented Jez from the blue transit van.

  “But we don’t know who or what could be waiting for us in the surrounding buildings,” said Ryan. “Stay alert. Grant, check The Tank. We’ve got you covered.”

  Grant nodded, produced a small hand-held device and got out of the car, closing the door behind him. In response Battler and Bruiser climbed out and stood shielded behind the open car doors, just in case while Mark held the rifle at the ready.

  “What are you doing?” the truck driver frowned at Grant.

  “Checking,” was all he said.

  “For what?”

  “Never you mind,” said Grant, lying on the ground to check the underside of the vehicle.

  The man gaped at Grant, as though he were mad. “You’ve got your clothes all dirty,” he commented as he straightened up, indicating the dirt stuck to his black jeans.

  He shrugged before walking back to the cars. “All clear.”

  They all got out of the cars, weapons ready, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings, looking so intimidating the truck driver released a cry and staggered backwards.

  “Take it easy,” said Grant, clapping him on the shoulder. “They’re not pissed off with you.”

  “Thank Christ for that, they nearly gave me a coronary. I’ve been told to hang about till you get back.”

  “Yes please,” said Grant, slipping him a wad of money so large it soon put the smile back on his face.

  “Woah, for that much cash you can ride me to wherever you’re going.” The man blushed. “I didn’t mean it to sound pervy, I meant I was like a car, you know. You see, it’s like this…”

  “Don’t worry, I get it. We won’t be long.”

  With a grin, Battler jumped into the front seat of The Tank and ran his hand over the steering wheel. “Hello beautiful.” He sighed when Bruiser’s angry face appeared at the side window. “You can drive it on the way back, okay?” He rolled his eyes when he remained where he was, looking pissed off. “And you get to ride shotgun. Happy?”

  Bruiser broke into an easy smile and nodded, stepping back to allow Battler to back The Tank off the truck, the powerful machine chugging and growling. The second it was off, Grant wrenched open the back doors and they all leapt in while Bruiser joined his brother up front. Mikey slammed the doors shut behind them.

  “Fuck me, it’s a beast,” said Jez as The Tank sat on the ground purring, as though eager to be off.

  “It’s going to announce our arrival before we even reach The Homestead,” said Ryan disapprovingly.

  “The engine has to be all souped-up to cope with the weight it’s got to carry,” said Mark.

  “Then we’re left with absolutely no room for error. Does everyone know the plan?”

  They all nodded as one.

  “Excellent. Let’s go.”

  As Battler drove they all checked their weapons and double checked the ones that had been placed in the tank by Gerry.

  “Everything’s looking good,” said Mikey. “Maybe we can trust him?”

  “Maybe,” was all Ryan said.

  They went silent, steeling themselves for the fight ahead, each of them going over the plan in their heads.

  “Thank fuck,” said Jared. “Has she finally stopped crying?”

  “We’ve found a toy that she actually seems to enjoying playing with,” said Tanya, sweeping into his office at The Homestead.

  “You didn’t leave her on her own?” said Jared, wondering if that was the real reason why Cara had suddenly gone quiet.

  “Of course not,” she frowned. “Estelle’s with her.”

  “You left her with Estelle?” he exclaimed.

  “And why not? She is the girl’s grandmother.”

  “Because she’s a fucking insane crackwhore who sold out her own kids.”

  Tanya smiled inwardly as he charged past her out of the room and down the hall to the lounge. Finally she’d managed to get her son to show some interest in his own daughter.

  Jared came to a halt in the doorway of the lounge, relieved. Cara was fine, sitting on the floor playing with a doll while Estelle reclined back on the couch reading a magazine. He was incensed when she took out a cigarette and prepared to light it.

  “Oy, not in here,” he said, rushing forward to snatch it from her lips. “And certainly not in front of Cara.”

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” said Estelle, pushing herself upright.

  “No smoking in this house and no swearing in front of the girl. Understand?”

  “Alright, take it easy,” said Estelle in an annoyingly belligerent way.

  He forced himself to calm down when he realised Cara was looking up at him fearfully, clutching the doll to her for comfort. He screwed up the unlit cigarette, tossed it into the bin then knelt before her, careful to keep his expression and voice gentle. “Hello sweetpea. Are you playing dollies?”

  She just stared back at him, unresponsive but alert.

  “She’s a beautiful doll. Did Nana Tanya get her for you? Of course she did because she loves you so much.” It was startling for him to look into the girl’s eyes - which were identical to his own - and feel something inside him stir, raising its head in acknowledgement that here was the living incarnation of his and Jules’s love. She was the perfect combination of them both and finally he started to feel something for her. Up until then she’d just been another trinket his mother had desired and, as usual, he’d gone all out to get it for her. But this little girl wasn’t his mother’s, she was his and he didn’t like what she’d been put through.

  “Since you’re here to watch her I’m going outside for a smoke,” said Estelle, hurrying for the door, glad to get away from the kid.

  “I’m glad she’s gone,” Jared told Cara conspiratorially. �
��She’s a stinky woman. Wow, did I see a smile?” he grinned when the corners of her mouth twitched. “It’s very pretty.” He hesitated before saying, “you’re my lovely little girl, aren’t you?”

  Tanya watched through the crack in the lounge door, smiling to herself.

  They were both distracted by a loud rumbling from outside, getting closer and closer. Instantly Tanya’s shit detector went haywire and she strode into the room. “What’s that?” she demanded.

  “How should I know?”

  “Sounds like a motorbike, correction, lots of them. Is it your men?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, they’re all here.”

  They rushed to the window but could see nothing because of the high wall surrounding the house while the sound got louder. And closer.

  “It’s Jules’s brothers,” said Tanya. “They’re here for Cara.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I just know. I’ve felt the tension building all day.”

  “It’s probably just someone out for a run on a bike, it’s the weather for it.”

  “No,” said Tanya, face paling. “This is something else.”

  With that she strode out into the hallway, bellowing for the men to join her. They appeared from different directions, assembling in a semi-circle around her and Jared, brandishing weapons. Jared barked orders at them and while some of them rushed outside the rest remained inside, fanning out to cover the various entry points, Robbie Jordan making sure he covered the back door that led directly outside into the garden.

  Tanya and Jared remained in the hallway, looking out at the long, winding driveway leading down to the road.

  “We’re worrying over nothing,” said Jared as the rumbling grew even louder. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the sound of a motorbike but he was still desperately trying to convince himself that it was.

  They both watched, appalled as a massive black steel leviathan burst through the gates at the far end of the drive, knocking one of their men into the bushes where he remained, unmoving.

  “What the fuck is that thing?” exclaimed Jared as it charged up the drive towards them, his men staring at it with their mouths hanging open. “Looks like a bloody tank.”

 

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