The Reckoning (22 page)

“I was, but I thought I’d come back home,
there’s a few things I want to do before I disappear.” He looked down on
Denton, who lay, unmoving, at his feet and the knife that stuck out from his back.
“That’s one thing done,” he said. “Not quite the way I planned it, but it’ll
do. Now, you, backup, I need somewhere with a little more space for what I have
in mind for you.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Donna
asked defiantly. “Shoot me? You do that and you’ll have everyone from the pub
here in less than a minute with whatever weapons they can find.”

Michael gave a short, humourless laugh at
that. “In this storm, I don’t think so. Even if they hear something, which is
doubtful, they’ll just think it’s thunder; no-one’s gonna come to your rescue.”
He stepped over the immobile form of Denton to approach Donna, who he prodded
in the stomach with the muzzle of the shotgun. “Get moving,” he ordered in a
harsh voice.

Realising that what Michael had said was
true, Donna reluctantly, and with a last look at Jason, obeyed. She backed up
until she reached the kitchen area, where he told her to stop.

“STRIP!”

The moment he gave the command Donna knew
what he had in mind for her. He was going to do to her what he had done to
Danielle and to Emma and to Melanie. He was going to strip her, beat her, rape
her and then murder her; most likely he was going to defile her body after
murdering her as well. Just like he had done with the girls.

She had no intention of allowing him to do
any of that to her, though while he had hold of the shotgun she didn’t know how
she could stop him. She was terrified, more scared than she could remember
being in her entire life, yet, somehow, a portion of her mind remained calm and
rational, enabling her to think clearly.

It was that portion of her mind that told her
to follow Michael’s instructions, and to wait until an opportunity presented
itself to make her move. He couldn’t rape her while still holding onto the
shotgun, so all she had to do was wait until he put it down. She didn’t imagine
she could beat him in a fight, but she had no intention of actually trying to
fight him, not unless it was absolutely necessary.

If she could get hold of the shotgun then she
would have the upper hand; failing that then all she needed to do was get past
him, down the passage and outside. She was confident that she could get away
from Michael if she could manage that much. With the storm outside he would
have a hard time finding her.

Slowly, as slowly as she felt she could get
away with without inciting Michael’s anger, Donna removed her jacket, then her
jumper. After that she undid her blouse, one button at a time, exposing herself
to him, bit by bit. She knew she should be embarrassed, in fact she suspected
that was what he wanted, for her to be embarrassed, and afraid, because that
was what turned him on. She was determined not to give him what he wanted
though.

*****

With a stifled groan, Jason lifted his head.
He hadn’t felt pain like he was feeling then since he was stabbed in a bar
fight; he’d almost forgotten how badly it hurt to be stabbed, and was none too
happy with the reminder. To make things worse, the knife he’d been stabbed with
was still there, protruding from the second injury he had received.

He couldn’t afford to let either his injuries
or the knife sticking out of him incapacitate him, however. Since he had
managed to remain conscious, he knew that it was Michael Davis who had attacked
him, and that he had plans for Donna. He wasn’t about to let the teen murderer
do what he was intending, especially since he was certain of at least part of
what Michael had planned.

With agonising slowness Jason pushed himself
to his knees, from there he struggled to his feet. Pain washed over him in
waves and he almost blacked out. He only managed to keep himself upright by
leaning against the wall; he continued to use the wall for support as he made
his way along the passage, following the sound of Michael’s voice as he urged
Donna to hurry up and strip.

He guessed that Donna was moving slowly on
purpose, and he couldn’t blame her for that. When he reached the kitchen area,
which seemed to take him forever, he saw that she had stripped as far as her
bra and was bending to undo the laces on her boots.

“Sod the boots!” Michael told Donna in
frustration. “Just get the rest of your clothes off!”

Donna wasn’t deliberately taking her time
over removing her boots, her laces were so sodden after all the time she’d
spent in the rain that evening that she was finding it impossible to get them
undone. Even if she’d had nails of a decent length, which she didn’t since she
liked to keep them trimmed, she would have struggled.

“I can’t get the trousers off without taking
the boots off,” Donna told him, still fighting with the laces, not that she was
really all that bothered by the fact that she couldn’t get them undone.

“I said sod the boots!” Still holding the
shotgun with his right hand, Michael reached out with his left to grab Donna’s
bra. The catch broke as he yanked the bra up to pull it over her head, and the
strap fell away off her left shoulder as he tugged at the right strap,
desperate to get it off and expose her to his eyes.

“Let her go, you sick son-of-a-bitch!” Jason
ordered as he leaned against the wall at the end of the passage; he projected
as much authority as he could while doing his best to conceal the pain he was
feeling.

Michael reacted to the order by letting go of
Donna, who overbalanced as she pulled back against his tugging of her bra and
fell backward. Her bra fell away to expose her. Ignoring Donna for the moment,
he spun toward Jason, the shotgun coming up as he took it in both hands again,
his finger tightening on the trigger.

The blast filled the kitchen area with noise,
deafening all three of them.

The cool air in the police station made Donna
all too aware of her sudden exposure; she pushed it from her mind, though, as
she surged to her feet at the sight of Michael bringing the shotgun round to
aim it at Jason. Once she was on her feet she dived at the teen murderer, her
hands outstretched, determined to stop him killing Jason.

She got a hand to the shotgun as Michael
pulled the trigger, knocking it away so the shot peppered the wall and not
Jason. She knew she had saved Jason but had no time to be relieved, she was too
busy fighting with Michael for control of the weapon.

Michael ducked his head and twisted away as
Donna grabbed for him. She had a hand on the barrel but he still had his finger
on the trigger, and while he evaded her grasping hand he brought the weapon
round so he could aim it at her. It would deprive him off the pleasure he’d
intending having with her but her struggles made him decide to simply blow a
hole in her stomach, just like the one he’d blown in Sergeant Underwood’s. That
would serve her for the trouble she’d caused him, he thought.

Jason flinched as the shotgun went off, and
then slumped against the wall in relief when he realised he was still alive.
The pain that swept through him as the knife in his back hit the wall told him
as much. He gritted his teeth against the pain and pushed himself away from the
wall, determined to help Donna. He lacked the strength to do much but he was
determined to do what he could, even if that was only throwing himself on the shotgun
in an effort to knock it from Michael’s grasp.

As he’d hoped, his weight was enough to drag
the gun from the grasp of both Donna and Michael. It fell to the floor with a
clatter and he landed on top of it, glad that he had been able to stop Donna being
killed. He was able to enjoy that success for only a second, however, that was
all the time he had before Michael reacted to what he’d done.

“You fucking bastard!” Michael swore as the
shotgun was torn from his grasp, just when he was able to pull the trigger on
Donna. He kicked Denton in the side, driving his foot into him in his
frustration. “You lousy fucking bastard!” He kicked him a second time and then
bent to drag him off the gun.

Donna was startled by Jason’s sudden
involvement in the fight for the shotgun, and it was a moment or two before she
recovered. Her topless state was forgotten as she grabbed the back of the
jacket Michael was wearing and attempted to drag him away from Jason. All she
succeeded in doing was help Michael move Jason off the shotgun, and he
hurriedly let go of the author so he could reach for the weapon.

Letting go of the jacket, Donna threw her arm
around Michael’s throat to secure him in a choke hold. It was the one thing she
could remember just then from her training in hand-to-hand defensive
techniques.

Michael abandoned his efforts to retrieve the
shotgun then, so he could free himself of Donna. Straightening up he grabbed
her arm to pry it free from around his throat, which proved more difficult than
he expected. He had almost been brought to his knees by the lack of oxygen when
he finally pried her arm loose and he was able to breathe again.

Twisting his body, while keeping hold of her
arm, he threw her against the wall, he then dragged her up so he could knee her
in the stomach, before punching her in the face. When he let go of her she fell
to the floor, landing on top of Denton, who let out a yell as she knocked the
knife in his back sending pain stabbing through him.

The yell brought a cruel smile to Michael’s
lips, and he reached down to tug on the knife, eliciting a further cry.

Donna gasped as the air was knocked out of
her by Michael’s knee, and she tasted blood as she crumpled to the floor, or
more accurately, onto Jason. That, and the sound of Jason’s pain when she
collided with the handle of the knife, worsening his wound, were forgotten the
instant she felt the metal of the shotgun barrel beneath her hand.

Immediately she closed her hand around the
weapon and scrambled to her feet, shoving Michael away as he tried to stop her.

Michael took a couple of steps back to steady
himself, and when he’d done so he saw the shotgun in Donna’s hand. He smiled at
the sight, amused by the thought of her threatening him. “Give me that,” he
told her, holding out a hand for the weapon. “I said give it to me!” he
ordered, speaking more forcefully when she didn’t respond.

“No!” Donna refused, finding her voice, both
her head and the weapon in her hand shaking. “You back up,” she ordered.

In response, Michael laughed and reached for
the shotgun. “GIVE IT TO ME!” He lunged for the weapon as Donna swung the
barrel away to try and stop him getting it. She wasn’t quick enough, however,
and he wrestled with her for control of the weapon.

On the floor, at the feet of both Donna and
Michael, Jason was jostled painfully as they fought above him. He couldn’t tell
exactly what was happening, and before he could shift into a position where he
could help Donna, he was deafened by a blast from the shotgun, which was fired
right above his head.

He felt blood splatter his face and then a
heavy weight landed on him; pain on a scale he had never experienced before
swept through his body and everything went black.

*****

Donna saw Michael’s whole body flinch as the
shotgun went off in their hands. His mouth gaped wide but his cry of pain was
drowned by the noise of the weapon. So too was her own cry, forced from her by
the butt of the shotgun as the recoil slammed it into her stomach, driving the
air from her lungs and doubling her up.

As she collapsed slowly on top of Jason,
Donna saw the red mess that had been made of Michael’s groin by the shotgun
blast. She didn’t know if he was dead, but she couldn’t help smiling in
satisfaction at the thought that, alive or not, he would never again be able to
hurt anyone the way he had hurt Danielle, Emma and Melanie.

*****

A distant ringing sound slowly penetrated
Donna’s brain, rousing her; it was several long moment – almost an eternity it
felt like – before she realised that the ringing sound was the phone in the
station reception.

With an enormous effort, and as much care as
she could manage, she pushed herself up and off Jason’s immobile form. She
looked down at him briefly, torn between checking to see if he was alive and
heading to answer the phone; the sight of Jason’s chest rising and falling – it
didn’t do either to any great degree – reassured her and she slowly made her
way along the passage so she could answer the phone.

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