Heller's Regret (39 page)

The van reversed from its space and wound its
way through the carpark to the ramp taking them up to the next
floor. Frustrated, I watched in despair, my mind considering and
rejecting a hundred different plans. I bolted up the stairs to the
next level and waited until they drove past me. Then I took the
stairs two at a time to the top level. A nebulous idea coalesced in
my brain. I could block the van’s exit by standing in the middle of
the final ramp, the one leading out to the street. They’d have to
run over me to leave.

But what if they did run over me? Malefic had
shown his complete contempt for the law with his brazen abduction
of the girls, so what would the hit-and-run of an annoying woman be
to him?
Nothing
, I thought, answering my own question. But
the stark fact remained that I had no other plan. I wouldn’t be
able to face myself in the mirror if I didn’t do everything I could
to try to save those girls.

So when the van motored into view, I moved
from car to car to be closer to the exit. Unexpectedly, the van
pulled up, its motor still running. One of the female acolytes
climbed out of the cabin and went around to the back, opening the
door. She discussed something with one or more of the girls.

She closed the door and went to Malefic’s
window. Irritated, he followed her around to the back, laid his
hand on one of the girls and spoke some low words. She sat back
down on the benches around the edge of the van’s inside. Satisfied,
he nodded at the acolyte and she slammed the door shut. But what I
didn’t see her do was relock the back door.

My heart thudding with hope, I ran to the
rear of the van, keeping low, expecting them to start driving again
any second. But they remained idling for a few minutes, perhaps
sorting through their cash for the right amount before having to
pay.

I tried the door and it opened. Having
absolutely no idea what I was going to do next, I climbed into the
back with the girls, closing the door just as the van took off
again.

I wedged myself into a corner of the cargo
space, closest to the door. The girls looked at me apathetically,
shifting along the bench seat without raising any fuss. God, what
had he done to them to turn that confident, cheeky group of young
women into these expressionless zombies?

We stopped again as they paid the toll,
several unrestrained girls lurching into me, squashing me up
against the door. I took stock of what I had with me: my phone –
always helpful; a canister of capsicum spray – again, very helpful;
the swipe card to the Warehouse and my flat – useless; spare hair
tie – useless; wallet – barely containing a brass razoo to bribe
Malefic to let us go, so that would have to go in the useless
pile.

I pulled out my phone and texted Farrell a
message with a brief summary of what had happened, the number of
people involved and the licence plate and general description of
the vehicle. I also asked him (all in capital letters for effect)
to call the police urgently. Hopefully the cops would be able to
trace the vehicle to Malefic’s lair or even better, traffic cops
would spot it on its way there.

There was no air-conditioning in the back of
the van and it was hot and stuffy. The van appeared to have been
designed as a vehicle for trades people, not as a transporter of
humans. I could see through the protective black film on the back
windows, though I’d wager that people couldn’t see into the cargo
space from the outside.

We bounced around uncomfortably in the back,
the girl who’d raised a fuss earlier rousing again out of whatever
stupor Malefic had managed to put her in.

“Oooh,” she moaned. “My head. Where am
I?”

“Shh,” I soothed, reaching across the van to
take her hands. “My name’s Tilly. Somehow you’ve ended up in the
back of a van. I don’t know where we’re going, but I’m going to
find a way to help you and your friends escape from these evil
people who’ve taken you.”

“Ooh,” she moaned again. “Was it that weird
man?”

“Malefic? Yes.”

“He told us he had this brilliant magic trick
in his van. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to return to the
conference like my best friend Juanita did. But Nellie, she’s the
big mouth of our group, called Juanita a pussy for chickening out.”
She watched her fingers tugging nervously at her skirt hem. “I
didn’t want to be called that in front of everyone, especially by
Nellie.”

“That’s understandable, but I do think
Juanita made the right decision. Hopefully she’s telling the
organisers, or even the police, what Malefic said. I’ve texted my
partner the licence plate of this van, so I’m confident someone
will find us soon.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
“What are you doing in the van with us? You were telling us how
dangerous he was. I became very scared when his people were so
rough with you, but Nellie laughed about it, thinking what they did
was funny.”

“Someone needs to sit Nellie down and give
her a good talking to. Perhaps a big scare like this might knock
some sense into her?”

“What’s going to happen to us?” she asked
tearfully.

“I don’t know. How did he convince you all to
get into the van?”

“I’m not sure. One minute he had his hand on
my shoulder, speaking some words I didn’t understand, and the next
minute I’m sitting in this van and it was moving. I wanted to get
out, so I banged on the divider. They stopped the van, opened the
door and that man did the same thing to me. The next thing I knew,
you were here.”

“I sneaked in after he calmed you down. One
of his women left the door unlocked.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll think of something,” I promised with a
load more confidence than I felt.

The van lurched around a corner and stopped.
I looked out the back and saw cars lining up behind us.
Traffic
light
, I thought. In the next lane was another van with
advertising for a food wholesaler. Their phone number was
prominently displayed on the side. I fumbled with my phone,
punching in the numbers.

A cheery female voice answered. “Welcome to
The Grateful Gourmet. This is Delia speaking. How may I help you
today?”

“Hello, Delia,” I whispered. “My name’s Tilly
Chalmers and I work for a security business called
Heller’s
.
This will sound a little out there, but there’s a black van,” I
told her the licence number. “I’m not sure exactly what road it’s
on, but there are some unwilling teenagers imprisoned in the back.
Could you please, please call the police?”

“Come off it, Dwayne,” she snapped. “I’m not
falling for another one of your bullshit practical jokes, so go ram
your gearstick up your arse. And instead of pranking me, why don’t
you concentrate on delivering orders to those southside delis
faster? I’ve had one providore ringing me already asking where you
are.”

“No, no, please. I’m not Dwayne. Please,
listen . . .” I was talking to a dial tone. “Damn it!”

The divider opened and one of the female
acolytes asked in her soft bland voice, “Everything okay back
there?” The girl I’d been talking to coughed loudly, her eyes huge
with fear. But her ruse seemed to work. “It won’t be long now.”

I shrunk into the corner, making myself as
small as possible. It was darkish inside the cargo space because of
the block out film on the back windows, and the acolyte was peering
in at an awkward angle, so I escaped detection. But the near miss
made me think about what I’d do when someone opened the doors.

I eased my capsicum spray from my pocket,
ready to use. I checked my phone again, but there was still no
message from Farrell. How long could it take for an ambulance to
arrive? I was edgy with nervousness.

We rattled around for five more minutes. I
kept a close eye on the rear windows, but we seemed to have stayed
on major roads, which was a relief of sorts. I would have been
extra worried if we’d turned off into a single vehicle, pot-holed,
dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

Thrown around again as another corner was
navigated, the van took a sudden dip and waited for a minute before
proceeding slowly forward. It came to a halt, the male acolyte
cutting the engine.

I grasped my capsicum spray tightly in my
right hand. It was time to rumble with the weirdos.

Chapter 29

A female acolyte opened the door, talking to
someone over her shoulder. When she swung to face me, I gifted her
with a full burst of spray. She screamed, dropping to her knees. I
jumped out, kicked her in the chin, toppling her over. I grabbed
her set of car keys. The teen I spoke to tried to jump out too, but
I pushed her back into the van, closing and locking the doors on
her. I didn’t need the teens to be any trouble for me. I already
had enough to deal with at the moment.

I sprinted to the driver’s seat where the
male acolyte still sat, checking his phone.

“Hey, bozo,” I said. He looked up in
surprise, copping an eyeful of the spray. I pulled him from the
seat to the concrete floor.

“Matilda, what are you doing?” Malefic
demanded, storming over to me. “How did you get in that van?”

“Get out of my way,” I threatened, holding up
the spray.

“I
need
those girls for an important
ceremony,” he snarled. “I have promised my Master I’m ready for my
Annunciation and you are not going to stop that from
happening.”

“I don’t care if you’re ready for Santa
Claus, if you don’t get out of my way . . . You know what, fuck it
with the warnings.”

I sprayed him. He stepped closer, so I
sprayed him again, right into his eyes. He blinked and moved even
closer, until we were standing toe-to-toe.

“That’s not possible,” I panicked, trying to
scrabble into the driver’s seat.

“You’re not robbing me of my chance for
independence from my Master. Then I can be free of him forever and
become a more powerful master myself. I won’t have you ruining that
for me.”

“Tough shit, weird guy. Deal with it.” I
kicked him in the stomach and tried to force the key into the
keyhole.
Oh God, why couldn’t I do anything right?

He lurched towards me, laying his hand on my
shoulder.

“Get off,” I demanded, not caring for his
touch.

He began to mutter those archaic words. I
jerked backwards when he rubbed his thumb against my neck.

“What the . . .” I didn’t get to finish the
sentence, my eyes rolling back in my head. My body, seemingly
separated from me, slumped into the driver’s seat.

“Get rid of her,” Malefic snapped.

“How, Master?” asked one of his women.

“I don’t care. Just make sure she’s not
capable of interrupting this most special of ceremonies. I can find
a use for her later.”

“Yes, Master.”

She attempted to drag me out of the van, but
I’d managed to keep the capsicum canister clutched in my hand.
“Come on, you big heifer. Get out,” she puffed.

Somehow, enough neurons connected in my brain
to allow me to raise my hand and spray her. I grabbed the handle
for the door and slammed it shut, locking it as I did. My vision
blurred as I started the engine, squinting in an endeavor to focus
enough to determine the accelerator from the brake.

The van kangaroo-jumped forward. I found the
gearstick and peered down at it, scrunching up my eyes to read
where the R for reverse was located. Once facing the right way, I
accelerated too hard, zooming the van up the ramp, almost crashing
into the garage door.

One of the buttons on the key had to open the
door. I pressed one randomly and the bonnet popped up, blocking my
view.

“Shit,” I slurred, almost slumping over the
steering wheel.

I unlocked my door and staggered from the
van. The last acolyte and Malefic raced towards me.

I made several attempts to shut the bonnet
from the side, sometimes grabbing at thin air instead of metal
because my eyes refused to work for me.
Malefic drugged you with
something
, my brain screamed at me.
I know
, my body
retorted,
but what am I supposed to do about it?

Backed up against the open bonnet, I dealt
with the remaining acolyte by shoving her in the forehead with my
palm, causing her to roll down the ramp. Malefic placed his hand on
my shoulder again. I twisted it off and gripped his arm, forcing
his hand down on the front of the car. I slammed the bonnet on his
fingers.

He pulled them out, cradling them with his
other hand. I closed the bonnet properly this time, turning to face
off with him.

A memory of him, small and frail, on the
paramedic gurney as he was slid into the ambulance flashed into my
mind, reminding me that he was just a human like me, not some
invincible demon. That Reverend had brought him down and so could
I.

I rammed my shoulder into him. The incline of
the ramp again came to my assistance, and he stumbled backwards,
the wide flailing of his arms not able to stop him from falling
heavily.

I jumped into the van and locked the door
again. It was then I noticed a small remote control sitting in the
console. I pressed it. The garage door took its own sweet time
opening and no amount of slurred swearing from me made it go any
faster.

I accelerated heavily with the brake on,
revving the engine to dangerous levels, until I released the brake
and we shot forward out of the lair. As we moved, the van bumped
over something on the ramp and when I looked in the rearview
mirror, Malefic lay prone on the cement, his face screwed up, his
mouth open in a howl of agony. His foot splayed at an awkward angle
and I had the awful feeling that I’d just run over it.

Out of the basement, I didn’t know whether to
turn left or right, my brain fuzzing up badly. My arms made the
decision for me, jerking the wheel to the right. I sped out,
over-steering, almost clipping a parked car and just avoiding a
collision with an oncoming truck that blared its horn at me. I felt
for the poor girls locked in the back being tossed around, but it
was more important at this moment that I got them safely away from
Malefic than worry about their comfort levels.