Nails In A Coffin (Demi Reynolds Book 1) (13 page)

Demi could hear the sound of shovels hitting dirt. She could also hear the sound of faint chatter coming from her ex-boss and his stooges. They sounded jovial and were enjoying the experience. She was not. The air was getting thicker, and she was feeling faint. The anger she was experiencing was bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to burst out of the coffin and break their necks. She wanted them to die for doing what they had done to her. She didn’t think she deserved to be locked away in a room, covered in her own feces, and then put in a coffin and threatened to be buried alive. All she had done was defend herself. Nathan was going to rape her. He was going to hurt her. In fact, he
had
hurt her. He had punched her. Twice. Really hard. What else was she supposed to do? Take it?

Demi wasn’t the “taking it” type. She was the “make them pay” type. If somebody hurts her, she hurt them back. And right now, all she was feeling was hurt. So she had a whole lot of hurt to dish back out.

“I’m going to kill all of you!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Just wait! I’m going to make you wish you never did this to me! You hear me, Donny? You want to know how much your brother cried and whimpered as I killed him? He begged like a little bitch. ‘Oh, please, Demi. Please don’t hurt me!’ Not so brave, was he?” Demi screamed.

The sound of shovels hitting dirt ceased for a second or two. Then came the sound of approaching footsteps. Demi braced herself. She thought that she was going to be shot through the coffin. Maybe Donny would grow tired of her threats and screaming, and empty a clip into the cheap wood she was encased in.

“Go on, then! Do it! Kill me, Donny! Just like I killed your dumb fuck of a brother!”

Silence followed. All she could hear was her heavy breathing. She reached for her oxygen and inhaled. Her feet and hands were free, but she was so weary that she couldn’t quite move them. She thought that maybe she only had one last bit of effort in her before her body broke down into nothing and she finally died. She didn’t want to waste it on getting angry, but she needed to vent her frustrations. It was all she had left. That, and the box she was in.

“Can you hear me in there?” a faint voice said. It was coming from above her, behind the coffin lid. It was Donny, and he wasn’t using the walkie-talkie. He was tapping on the wood above her, as if he was knocking. “Hello?” she heard him say.

She punched the lid above her. Her fist buckled on impact, and her wrist bent at an angle. She screamed in pain.

“Oh, good. You’re there. I just wanted to let you know that we’re about halfway there to getting you into your new home. I hope you enjoy peace and quiet, because I’m afraid there isn’t much going on six feet under. Maybe you’ll get lucky and befriend one of the worms that will be munching on your dead skin. I hope I’m the last thing you see when you take your final breath. I want you to see my face as you close your eyes. I want you to scream for me as your heart goes out of whack and finally gives in.”

There was a slight pause. Then Demi heard him laugh and say, “It’s been a pleasure, love, but I’ve got to get back to digging your grave.”

She heard the sound of footsteps. They were walking away. She began to cry. It was over for her. She knew it. She could sense it. There was no going back now. They had beaten her. She started to sob uncontrollably and then burst into a fit of rage. She hit the sides of the coffin with her fists and the bottom with her feet. She hit the wood over and over again. But it didn’t budge. She was stuck.

“Oh, please…please help me.”

But no one came. The sound of shovels hitting dirt continued. The anticipation of death lingered, and Demi finally gave in.

She was ready to die.

The hole was about ten feet long and six feet wide. Donny was looking on as his two goons dug deeper. Both of them were drenched in sweat and soil. From head to toe, they were brown and black. They had removed their T-shirts and were topless. Donny watched as their muscles tensed with every stroke of their shovels. They were big men, so it was impressive. Donny wasn’t into the male physique at all, but he did find it fascinating, watching men hard at work. Especially men who had muscles where he didn’t. He felt confident that they’d be able to dig the hole within the hour, and he wasn’t disappointed. By the time the big hand hit twelve and the little hand stopped at four, he was happy to see the hole was nearly finished. Time was escaping them rather quickly because of the fact that they had moved the coffin Demi was in from the back of the hearse over to near the dirt hole. It had only taken a few minutes, but it was time that Donny was keen to keep. Demi had banged some more once they began to move her, but they decided to ignore her. It was for the best. As Donny told them, it didn’t matter.
The bitch would be dead soon.

“Good job, guys, it’s the final stretch now. We’re nearly done,” Donny said, watching from afar, leaning on the hearse’s bonnet, smoking a cigarette. One of his men turned to give Donny a look. It was a look Donny didn’t quite get. He was a little suspicious of the look he was given but decided to give the man a pass, especially since he had done so well throughout the day. First he’d driven Donny and the coffin around all day, and now he was digging a grave like a trained gravedigger. It impressed him. The diversity of his men was always something he was proud of. A lot of the other firm leaders out there didn’t have half the capability or creativity that his men had. And for that he was grateful.

The sun was setting as the evening closed in. The driver and the passenger were still digging, and Demi Reynolds could still be heard kicking up a fuss inside the coffin. For the most part, Donny and his men had been ignoring her. They thought it was for the best. After all, they didn’t want to waste time instilling fear in her, seeing that she was about to take a trip six feet under. Plus, they had already spent most of the week working her. And Donny was a fair man, in his mind. He didn’t think it was necessary to torture her too much. He was aware that he was a villain. A bad guy. But he didn’t see himself as a bully. There was only so much a man of his power could do to another person before it became bullying. He prided himself on being just. When he lost sight of that, he always felt ashamed. But Demi was a different case. She had killed his brother, and she needed to pay. A little extra mustard, so to speak, wasn’t unjustified. He thought it was only fair that she suffered.

“Come on, boys, let’s wrap this up. I don’t want to be here all day,” he said, looking down at his watch and noticing that the big hand was moving a little faster than he’d like.

“It’s a little tiring, boss. We have a few feet to go, and I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack,” one of his goons said, shoveling at the dirt while breathing heavily.

“Okay. Take five minutes, but not any longer than that. This isn’t the time to be taking liberties.”

The passenger stopped shoveling and climbed out of the hole. As he did so, he gripped the seam of dirt that rose above the hole and hoisted himself up. The sound of loose dirt falling into the pit made Donny smile. Soon enough, the sound of loose dirt hitting the wooden surface of the coffin would be heard, and to him that was nothing short of good news. The best news.

“You can take a break as well,” Donny said, lighting a cigarette and chucking the pack over to the passenger. He was talking to the other goon, who was still in the pit, digging furiously.

“You hear me down there?” Donny asked, walking over toward the pit and looking down. He saw the man digging hard. He was covered in sweat and heaving as he did his job. Donny stood there for a second or two, and repeated his question. The man stopped digging and looked up at his boss. He had that look on his face again. The one that confused Donny.

“What the fuck’s up with that look you’re giving me? We have a problem here?” Donny asked, his feet sinking into the loose dirt that was piling up.

“Not at all, boss. Just trying to get this done as quickly as possible,” the man replied, struggling for breath as he spoke.

“Well, don’t worry about it. Take a breather. You’ve been driving all day. You need a rest as well.”

The man shook his head and continued to dig. Donny was feeling a little angry by now. The man was disobeying his orders. His face went red, and he flicked the cigarette into the pit.

“Suit yourself, then. Don’t complain to me about you being tired after this is over and done with.”

Donny walked off back toward the hearse. The sound of Demi beating the inside of the coffin was straining his ears. He rolled his eyes and leant against the hearse once again. The other goon joined him.

“We going to quieten her down?” he asked, smoking a cigarette while unscrewing a cap on an Evian bottle.

“Let her do what she wants. There’s no way she’s getting out of there. She can punch, kick, and scream — she isn’t budging.”

The goon took a sip of water and screwed the cap back on.

“But what if somebody hears her banging?” he asked.

Donny glanced around as if to make a point. “Look where we are! There’s no one for miles. That’s the reason we chose this plot of land. It’s surrounded by trees, and no one walks by. They ain’t going to find her down here. It will take years and years before anybody finds her body. They’ll probably dig her up on one of those archaeology shows, like
Time Team
, in the future. Some asshole presenter will jump to conclusions as to who she was, what she did, and why she was buried.”

The goon started to laugh and flicked his cigarette onto the floor. “Yeah, and I bet in two hundred years we’ll still be paying for the BBC, and
EastEnders
will still be boring.”

The two of them laughed, and the goon got back to work. He jumped back into the pit and began to shovel once again.

“Why didn’t you take a break? You look like you’re about to collapse,” Donny heard his man ask the driver. There was no response, just silence.

“Charming,” the goon stated, continuing to dig.

Donny stayed where he was. The sound of digging in the pit and banging in the coffin meshed into one loud noise. His eyelids twitched a little as he waited patiently for the sound of both to cease.

“All will be quiet soon. Real quiet,” he whispered under his breath as he looked at his watch one last time.     

Hamish pulled up on the ridge and turned his engine off. The sound of the engine hissing escaped into the early evening air. Hamish watched through the windshield as heat evaporated off the bonnet into the sky. He sat back in his seat and gripped the steering wheel tight. He could feel his hands cramping under pressure, but the sight through the windshield was making him angry.

Looking through the windshield, he could see two men digging what looked like a grave. A few meters past the grave, above ground, was a hearse. Leaning against the vehicle was his boss, Donny the Hat. Hamish watched as they went about their business, unaware that they were being observed.

The ridge Hamish was parked on stood about forty feet above them. It was a natural ridge made out of earth and rock. It wasn’t normally used by cars, but Hamish thought he’d get a better look at his targets from the top. The ridge itself was positioned a good hundred or so yards away from the group of men digging the grave. It meant that Donny or his two lapdogs wouldn’t hear him approaching. He wanted to have the element of surprise. That’s why he decided to drive up the unkept ridge and prepare for an ambush.

Hamish was careful to not draw any attention to himself. He had thought about his options regarding saving Demi. He had two of them. He could either reverse down the ridge and drive up to them, or get out of the car and scale the rocks toward them. The first option would give them a heads-up that he was coming. They’d be able to hear the car approaching. They might grow a little trigger-happy and decide to shoot, even though Donny had said it would be okay for Hamish to turn up. The second option seemed more viable when it came to securing Demi with the least resistance possible.

The thing was, Hamish was a big guy. Scaling a ridge, walking down a slope, and stepping over rocks could put him in a compromised position. He was bulky, so he’d make a lot of noise whilst walking down a ridge. And that wasn’t acceptable. Not for an ambush. He’d draw their attention and possibly their fire, once they saw him approaching them holding a shotgun. They wouldn’t question what was going on. They’d just see an approaching giant holding a massive gun. And then they’d open fire.

Hamish grew frustrated with his train of thought and banged his fist against the dashboard. It made a rather large echoing sound as it reverberated off the fake leather interior. He caught his breath a little as he started to slow his breathing down. Watching from above like he was doing was causing his excitement levels to go through the roof. His heart was racing and he was trying to calm himself, but the thought of becoming a hero in saving Demi from being buried alive was what was making him excited.

Throughout most of his life, Hamish had been seen as a slob. An oaf. A fool. A big, clumsy idiot. But now he could be so much more. And he wanted to be so much more. Ever so much more, in fact. So much so that he was willing to get out of the car, shotgun in tow, walk down the ridge, and start peppering Donny and his goons with twelve-gauge slugs.

“You’re ready,” he told himself as he reached for the boom stick, which sat on the passenger seat. The sensation of the gun in his left hand made him feel giddy. A smile etched across his face. He was really doing it. He was really going to make them pay and save the day.

He got out of the car. The sound of his feet hitting the dirt and gravel sounded awfully loud in his ears. He didn’t know whether he was being overly loud or whether he was just sensitive to sound. But upon straying from his car and taking the first few steps toward the ridge, he knew he was being quiet enough. The adrenaline rushing through his body was making his hearing overly sensitive. He could practically hear all three men below him, even though they were a good hundred yards away. He watched for a split second as he saw Donny spark up a cigarette. He watched as the end of his cig went a bright orange. Hamish could hear the paper burning, that’s how zoned out he was. Everything was dissolving around him. Sound and vision were all that was present. Everything else was melting away.

He walked down the ridge and cocked his shotgun. The sound of the chamber filling with two shells sent shivers down his spine. He was getting closer to Donny and the men. He could hear twigs snapping under his feet. He swatted a branch away from his face and came out on the other side. He was now on ground level, on a par with Donny. He was twenty or so yards away. Donny stopped sucking on his cigarette and dropped the butt on the ground. He looked up and saw Hamish coming. At first he had a smile on his face. But as Donny noticed what Hamish had in his hands, that smile disappeared.

Then Hamish’s surroundings came into focus and the zone he was in eroded away. As he pressed down on the trigger, everything went silent.

And then the sound of gunshots echoed throughout the clearing.