Holy Island Trilogy 02 - Nowhere Man (18 page)

She safely manoeuvred the turn after the window, although it seemed to take forever. Each minute she expected to miss her footing. At the end of the building, there was indeed a fire escape, old and rusted, and leaning into the wall as if they were melded together. It also looked like it had never been used before. But a fire escape was a fire escape, she thought, lifting her right leg and swinging her body round until she was facing the building again. A small step, and she was onto the fire escape, grabbing tight hold of the rail at each side.

For a moment it shook, making a loud groaning noise, and she thought it was going to come off the wall. As the noise ran all the way down to the bottom, she clung to the first rung, her heart speeding up. Thankfully, it held. All she really wanted to do now was go as fast as she could, hit the ground running and go for it, but the noise would have the whole building out wondering what was going on. Slowly, keeping herself in check, step by tortured step, she made her way down.

Wondering why Lovilla hadn’t raised the alarm yet, she stared at what might be the biggest task yet-getting across the well-lit yard without being seen.

Make a bolt for it? she thought, looking up at the light, realising that she probably could have smashed it as she was passing. Then again, it could have been her undoing. One slip, and she would have been lying on the concrete, twisted up in a mess of arms and legs and probably dead.

Not quite believing that she had made it to the ground, she stood for a moment, picturing her grandfather’s face when she finally made it home.

A moment later, she heard a door open. She gasped, and quickly hid between two large bins, shaking with fear and praying that whoever it was didn’t plan on putting out the rubbish.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Frowning, Lovilla picked at her prawn salad, disappointed that she couldn’t find anything to complain about. She loved seeing the dismay on a peasant's face if they thought they were in trouble.

Her father treated them as pets. She’d actually seen him pat and fondle them as one would a cat or a dog. He even had his stupid favourites… Silly fool!

They are nothing but vermin. And have to be eradicated as such before there is nothing left on the planet.

Why can’t he see that?

She lifted the silver lid from a large platter and raised her eyebrows. Half a dozen strawberry and custard tarts nestled together.

‘Hmm,’ she muttered. ‘Who told them?’ She wasn’t really surprised, it happened everywhere she went. The peasants probably had a list of all the Families' favourite foods. 

Feeling very pleased with herself, she sat back amongst the cream cushions and looked at the gold unicorns on the ceiling.

‘Ha! Stupid peasants, you haven’t got a clue what’s coming. And neither, dear father, do you.’

Suddenly she sat up. ’Where the----?’ Jumping off the bed, she ran to Annya’s room. It took only a moment to see she wasn’t there. Turning the handle on the bathroom door, she found it locked.

‘Open the door. NOW.’

She rattled the handle, then put her shoulder to the door. The tiny bolt gave way with the first push. Angry Lovilla walked in, her eyes at once taking in the open window. This time she was truly amazed, perhaps for the first time in her life.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Terrified even to breathe, Annya sat huddled in on herself. Then the footsteps stopped, she heard a click and guessed, rightly, that it was a cigarette lighter. She let out her breath and dropped her head onto her knees. A moment later, she jumped when she heard a voice from inside yelling, ‘Get yourself back in here!’

‘I’ve just flaming well lit up,’ a man's voice yelled back, from only a few feet away.

‘Get in here!’ shouted the other voice, definitely a woman’s, high pitched and squeaky.

‘Oh, fucking hell,’ the smoker yelled back. ‘I am entitled to a break, you know.’

A loud harsh laugh was followed by, ‘Not here you’re not, mate. Remember? You sold your soul to this lot, you ain’t entitled to nothing. Get used to it.’

A moment later, she heard the door closing. Without giving it any more thought, she jumped up and ran as fast as she could for the trees, every second expecting to be seen and the dogs set on her. Out of breath, she hid behind the first tree, before cautiously looking back at the hotel.

All quiet. Thank God, she thought as, still panting and trying to be as quiet as she could, she headed for the road.

God only knows what’s creeping around in these trees. Beetles, worms, rats? She just managed to stifle a scream as she stood on something soft.

Oh help, please no.

Not a giant spider.

She shivered all over and, wanting to open her mouth and just scream her head off, she took another step.

‘It’s just dog's mess,’ she muttered, trying to convince herself as she speeded up. ‘That’s all, or a fox's.’ She froze for a brief moment. The thought of foxes on the loose terrified her even more. Shaking with fear she moved on, more slowly now, trying to be as quiet as she could.

Still got to get out of here. She prayed she was heading in the right direction. It was pitch black among the trees, and they seemed to be getting closer together.

Then she saw a faint patch between the trees which seemed slightly lighter. Turning more to her right, she headed towards it. She was nearly at the roadside when something touched her shoulder. She bit into her hand. The only thought in her head
spider spider spider,
she burst through the trees and jumped onto the road, and ran in a blind panic until she could run no more.

Slowing down, gasping, rubbing the stitch in her side, she soldiered on.

'I’m going to make it, Grandpa, I’m coming home,' she repeated over and over. ‘I’m coming home!'

A moment later her revived spirits hit rock bottom, when she saw the car in front of her. Black, with no lights on, it had been hard to see until it was close. Panicking, she looked quickly behind to see another car closing in on her.

It’s them, she thought.

No way. She started to sob.

I am not going back there.

They can kill me before that happens.

The only option open to her was back into the woods, and pray she could find somewhere to hide. No way could she outrun them in the dark. They would know this place far better than she did.

Find some sticks, tree branches, anything to beat them off.

She looked around. Nothing, and there was no time to snap a branch off.

There must be somewhere to hide!

I can’t give up now.

One of the cars had stopped within a few yards of her, and the one behind was catching up. The sound of the car doors being slammed spurred her on. She ran down the slight slope that led into the woods. Noise didn’t matter any more, they knew where she was. If she could only make it out the other side before they caught her. She ran, crashing and weaving in case they had guns. She knew she was nothing to them. The only reason they wanted to catch her was to shut her up.

She made some progress, and began to hope that there was a chance, a tiny chance that she might even outrun them. The thought of freedom lured her on. From somewhere inside, she gained courage and a second wind.

Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind and thrown to the floor. She thrashed about, but her hands were quickly tied behind her back, a gag shoved into her mouth and a hood put over her head. She felt herself being lifted up and carried between two people.

All the fight she possessed deserted her. It didn’t matter anymore. She had given up. She would never see her beloved grandfather ever again.

PART FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

It wasn’t the first time Mike had slept under the stars, although they were far more visible up home than they were in London. He was also convinced that the benches up home were much more comfortable. Probably being biased, he thought. After all, a bench is a bench, no matter where it is.

Not meaning to spend the night on the bench, he had merely sat down for a few minutes to sort his head out. The next minute he’d fallen fast asleep, and now his neck was stiff.

He stretched his neck to the left to get the kinks out, wondering how he’d gotten away with it. Amazing, really. He stretched his neck the other way.

Probably the last place they would think to look for a fugitive. Face it, though, that’s what I am. He sighed. The idea did not sit well on his shoulders.

He knew he was filling his mind with random thoughts to stop thinking of Tony. They had become as annoying as a song stuck in your head that goes on and on.

He glanced at his watch. Seven o' clock, and the sun was just clawing its way up the sky. Leaving the park, he crossed the empty road to a small newsagent's shop. He looked at the news billboard before he went in, fully expecting his picture to be splashed under large headlines of his name.

Nothing! He frowned. Going inside, he picked up half a dozen newspapers. Nowhere was there any mention of a murder concerning him.

He bought a couple of the more well-known ones, then went back to the bench he now called home. He found nothing in the papers but celebrity sex lives, and phone hacking scams - until a small piece about CCTV cameras caught his eye. Every camera in London, at a certain time, had shown nothing but static. Strangle all the cameras in Norwich had done the same. The boffins had blamed sunspots.

‘The lying bastards,’ he muttered, when he saw the exact time the cameras had gone haywire.

He sighed as he threw the papers into a bin beside the bench. Tony knew all along that there was no CCTV of him, because the time they had all gone crazy was the same time as he had hit the guy in the bookshop. He’d wanted me out of the flat all along.

He must have been watching everything that happened, and come up with a story to get me out. Who the hell had he been expecting?

Frustrated and angry, Mike rose off the bench, ready this time to get everything out of Tony-no matter what it took.

He slipped quickly through a patch of trees towards the entrance of the park. Just as he was about to leave the tree cover, he spotted an old lady in a red coat. For a moment he stopped, then quickly moved further back.

‘Well, talk about flaming coincidence. It’s just gotta be the bird lady,' he muttered.

Best keep hidden, he thought, slipping further back, enough so that he could see and not be seen.

This is a good way from the police station, he thought, then realised that he didn’t actually have a clue where she lived. Maybe she was heading to a tube station, to get into the heart of the city.

The path she was walking on was at least fifty yards away from where Mike was hiding, across a well trimmed grass area with more trees on the other side, which were much closer to the path. She’d only gone a few more steps when three youths, one black, the other two white, all wearing hoodie’s covering their heads, slipped out from behind the trees.

They followed her for ten yards or so. It was clear what their intentions were. Then, for one split second, she paused, before spinning round and facing them. By now Mike was halfway across the grass and pulling his gun. He had no intention of using it, because there were no bullets in, just something to scare them off with, save using his fists on the pathetic scum.

Before he reached her, two were lying flat on their backs and the other was running for the trees.

‘What the----?’ Mike would have sworn that an old woman would never have been able to do what she did. Tucking his gun away, he said, ‘You all right?’

Before answering, she kicked the nearest youth and said, ’On your way, scumbag.’ Both boys jumped up, one nursing his jaw, the other favouring his right shin and limping, quickly they followed the path their friend had taken.

Unbelievable, Mike was thinking, as she turned to him and said, ‘Nothing to worry about, Durham lad.’

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

The dawn light crept slowly into the hospital room. Danny sat staring into space. He hadn’t moved from his chair since he got here. The machines that Evan was wired up to had constantly bleeped their way to morning. He sighed. He didn’t know what was hurting the most, his head or his heart. He felt like screaming, the bleeping sound was more annoying than fingernails scraping on glass. He felt that all he had seen for days had been prison cells and hospitals.

Then he felt lousy for even feeling lousy. Nothing he had gone through could compete with what Evan was suffering, and would probably go on suffering.

He looked across at his friend, probably the only friend he had in the whole world right now. He was in a sort of cage, with the blankets lifted off his burned skin, which was more than 80% of his body. They said the next twenty-four hours would tell if he lived or died.

Danny was sure he’d heard one of the nurses whisper to the other that it would be kinder if he died.

Danny shivered. No way!

‘Not Evan an’ all,’ he muttered, remembering them huddled by the doorway a few hours ago.

He’d wanted to yell at them, scream, rant and rave at the heavens, but instead he’d leaned over the bed, and whispered, ‘You’ll pull through, mate. I know you will.’

Now he wished he could touch him, to let him know that he was there for him. Reassure him that everything would be all right. But there was nowhere that wasn’t burned apart from his back.

He needed to let him know that he would always be there for him, no matter what. It didn’t matter what he looked like now, they could do marvels with plastic surgery these days.

‘You’ll be all right, Evan,’ he said, remembering from somewhere that people in comas could sometimes still hear you. ’Don’t worry, mate. I’ll be here for you. We’ll get through this together, mate.’ He patted the side of the bed. He couldn’t imagine life without Evan. They had been friends for so long, closer than a lot of brothers he knew.

His face was a few inches from Evan’s when the machine flatlined. Jumping back in shock, Danny stared for a moment - then panic set in and he ran to the door. Before he reached it, the doctors and nurses were running in and pushing him out of the way.