Absolution: A Legendary Adventure Thriller

by A. J. Roe

  3

  “What the hell?!” Rick’s scream of anguish rang out over the howling winds and across the barren wilderness. “Who clamps a car in the middle of nowhere?”

  The luminous yellow box affixed to the wheel of his Ford Focus ST glowed like a candle in the hazy grey light. While it was true that they had been illegally parked at the side of the road in a private nature reserve, there hadn’t been a single human being within a dozen miles of the site.

  “Drat,” Sanjay muttered, glancing down at his phone. They had barely had any signal in the closest town, any chance of making a call here was non-existent. It annoyed Rick a little that his friend was still somehow too restrained to find the courage to curse.

  The pair slumped down in the front seats of the car and slammed the doors shut, finally finding respite from what had begun as a freezing gale-force morning and gradually faded into nothing more than a cold and blustery afternoon.

  Rick unzipped his jacket and wriggled out, like a moth escaping its cocoon. This provided him with the freedom to reach back for the silver Thermos of tea, which was nestled among a pile of empty plastic bags and disposable coffee cups on the rear seats.

  He shoved his backpack behind the driver’s chair and poured the tepid liquid into the single serving beaker. Rick took a long sip, savouring its sweet four-sugars’-worth of energy and warmth. After another quick gulp he passed the cup to his friend, who gratefully received it into his icy hands. A few moments of silent recuperation passed. “Let’s take a proper look then,” Sanjay said.

  Rick unzipped his pocket and handed the coins over. His friend studied them for a few minutes, rubbing off some of the grime as best he could with his thumb. “They all have what looks like a cross marking. Probably the French coat of arms, most likely they are twenty-four livre ‘Louis d’or’ pieces. If so, they could be worth a few hundred pounds each, maybe even up to a grand.”

  “Awesome.” Something had finally gone right, no matter how minor.

  Sanjay continued, “If this is the remains of the Loch Arkaig Treasure, we need to come back and do a thorough search of the area. Just because it's not in the cave, doesn’t mean the rest of it isn’t nearby. Transporting cases of gold long distances inland without modern equipment would have been no mean feat. If we present these to the University, we’ll definitely be able to get funding for a proper expedition.”

  The prospect made a lump rise in Rick’s throat. In a way he felt the University still owed him. He’d worked there in his twenties and made a huge find during that time but saw very little of the money himself.

  During the party to celebrate his success, one of the department directors had made a racist quip about Sanjay and for the first time since he was a child in the playground, Rick had punched another human being. He’d split the old prick’s lip and was forcibly ejected from the building while half of the department glared in disgust and the other half had cheered. The idea of slinking back there with his tail between his legs and begging them for funding sent a fresh tremble of dread running through his soul.

  The pair sat considering their next step for some time. A blisteringly cold sundown trek was not particularly appealing to Rick and from the look of exhaustion on his friend’s face, Sanjay felt much the same.

  Abury was almost thirteen miles away, along a single road that wound between windswept fields and flood plains. It was either that or spend a very long, cold night in the car then do the walk in the morning anyway. “Okay,” Rick sighed, “let’s get moving.”

  A short way into the walk, the grey clouds parted. There were a few brief minutes of warmth before the sun dropped down behind the houses and a single church spire on the horizon. The small, working-class Scottish town where they had made their base, was in Rick’s eyes at least, a place with literally no distinguishing features or redeeming qualities, short of being conveniently located for their expedition.

  After another hour of wandering along the grassy-banked A-road towards the town had come and gone, the pair were into the kind of drab grey concrete buildings that filled industrial estates across the country. On the right was a huge construction supply store and to the left a row of closed builders’ yards and a rough-looking flat-roof pub with its sign hanging half off.

  A few hundred yards on, Rick decided to ask the only people stupid enough to be out in the freezing evening weather for directions to the town centre. A group of teens all in hoodies and tracksuits were sitting on a bench outside a shuttered Co-op supermarket, sharing a blue three-litre bottle of the cheapest piss cider they could get their hands on. One of the braver kids sniggered at the stranger’s request, mimicking his southern accent before one of them finally pointed down the adjoining street.

  Sanjay politely thanked the youth and tried to offer him some friendly advice, stating that he ran the risk of permanently damaging his liver by binge drinking three litres of White Lightning. Much to Rick’s amusement, he answered with a loud belch and told Sanjay to “Fuck off.”

  Both men were dead on their feet by the time they reached the doors of the budget guesthouse they had booked out for the weekend. It was a drab stone-clad four-bedroom building that could have been anywhere in Britain. There were no lights on inside and no sounds coming from within even though it was eight o’ clock on Saturday night. Dull goddamn town.

  Sanjay typed the code into the forged steel door lock on the front door and the pair solemnly thudded up the wooden staircase and into the boxy bedroom.

  Rick discarded the outer layer of his mud-streaked clothing and placed the coins on the bedside table. He kicked the bundle of clothes into the corner, ignoring the look of distaste on Sanjay’s face, and dropped onto the closest of the two single beds. Rick sunk deep into a mattress so soft it felt like it was trying to eat him alive. Seconds later, he was lulled into a dreamless slumber.

  ✽✽✽

  Finally finding the energy to pull himself from the comfort of the bed, it was almost nine o’ clock the following morning. Rick plodded over to the window and pulled back the tasteless white lace curtains to discover that the clouds had given way to glorious yellow sunshine. The warm rays shone gleefully down on the alluring grey-brown concrete of the public toilets just a stone's throw from their window. It was almost as if the weather itself was mocking them for their previous day’s adventure.

  Just as they were starting to pack up, it dawned on Rick that with his thoughts so heavily on the coins, he’d left his backpack tucked beneath the driver’s seat of the Ford Focus in the middle of nowhere.

  Rick scooped up the bundle of clothes from where he’d discarded them the night before. There was no option but to don the rancid attire once again. He slid the long-sleeved shirt, caked with mud and sweat, over his head and the pungency brought a tear to his eye.

  In the utterly unremarkable downstairs dining room, decorated with what could only be described as ‘motel art’, Rick and Sanjay sat across from each other on an awkwardly small breakfast table.

  After two cups of strong, sweet black coffee, Rick was feeling half-human again and moved on to annihilate a huge bowl of Coco Pops. It wasn’t exactly a well-rounded meal but the influx of sugar into Rick’s system certainly helped puncture a hole through his groggy thoughts.

  Sanjay, who seemed to grow in size and appetite with each passing year, put away several rounds of thick white toast with butter and jam then washed it down with a mug of sweet tea. All the time, unable to stop informing his friend of how important a good breakfast was for his health, even though he was a single belt notch from being officially obese.

  It was just after ten-thirty when they arrived at the local police station, following directions from the bad-tempered old crone, who ran the guesthouse.

  “Excuse me,” Rick said, approaching the glass-covered counter. Apart from a row of steel chairs and a heavy fire door to the right-hand side of the window, it was the only furnishing in the bleak grey room. A middle-aged constable with watery green eyes and a
receding hairline looked up from his newspaper. He folded it in half with a sigh, as if to intentionally demonstrate how little he cared for the interruption. Somewhere out of sight behind the glass, a TV was blaring at an annoyingly loud volume as though he was also trying to listen from across the room.

  “What do you need?” the officer said in his thick brogue.

  Rick cleared his throat, for some reason now more nervous than made any logical sense, “My car has been clamped. It was yesterday when we parked up on the A246. I need to get it unlocked.”

  “Ah, right. Treasure hunters eh?” The officer clicked his tongue.

  “Sorry?” Rick was taken aback by the question, although really it should have been obvious, from his sweaty, muddied hiking gear.

  “Treasure hunters, aren’t you? They’re always up and down here this time of year, combing the beaches with metal detectors.”

  “Fuckers,” Rick hissed through his teeth, louder than he had expected.

  “What was that?”

  “Oh. Not us.” Good save. Rick mentally patted himself on the back. He didn’t know which he loathed more, the bearded, fat, old, pickled-egg-eating, metal detector losers or the fact that people automatically associated him with them when he told them what he did for a living.

  “Fill this out,” the officer said, sliding a pad and pen through the thin gap beneath the glass. “Pay the fine here and then the parking wardens will come around two o'clock and unlock it.” The officer reclined in his chair and reached once again for the newspaper, making it clear he had had enough of the exchange.

  The two men were left to sit on the cold metal benches and enter a seemingly endless list of personal information for the best part of an hour.

  It was almost seven in the evening by the time Rick and Sanjay finally got back to the car. There were no taxis in the town or buses that ran even remotely close. It had been yet another long walk, spurred on only by the promise that the car would actually have been unlocked.

  On approach, Rick heaved a sigh of relief to find his beloved, beaten-up vehicle had been freed from its luminous yellow bondage. The pair bundled inside. “A hundred and fifty quid. Those bastards.” Rick shook his head in disbelief at the racket they had going.

  “Pay me back half whenever you can,” Sanjay said. “But honestly, when you speak like that all the time it’s no wonder Sarah doesn’t want you around, children are very impressionable you know.”

  “Hey,” Rick feigned annoyance, “My ex-wife hating me and my swearing are two separate issues.”

  “Seriously though my friend, I know you have high hopes, in fact that’s one of the things I respect you for but remember the true treasures in this life are the people you love. Don’t push them away.”

  “Jesus, you sound like a motivational meme.” Rick mocked but he was glad to have a friend like Sanjay around. Someone who had the balls to hit him with the painful truth every now and again. Even if he was way too sentimental. Why can’t I have the people I love and millions of pounds? Rick wondered, wilfully ignorant to the fact that right now he had neither.

  In near silence, the pair both devoured a respective cheese and pickle sandwich that had been sitting perfectly preserved in the fridge-temperature glove compartment.

  “What now then?” Sanjay said. “It’s late, should we go back to the guesthouse and hit the road early in the morning? I’ll have to call in sick.”

  Rick bit his lip as he pondered the situation. It would be at least an eight-hour drive back to Wynley. Their shared hometown was an unremarkable place on the outskirts of Reading. It was known only for a couple of small nature reserves and being the birthplace of a minor celebrity, but it still beat the hell out of Abury. The choice was now either a very long drive or facing another night in the world’s most depressing town.

  “No. You have to get back.” Although Rick’s concern for his friend’s career was entirely genuine, to some extent, he also knew the faster they could get home the faster he could figure out what their find was worth. “You can’t risk your job on my account. If you take the first shift, I’ll drive through the night and you can get some sleep.”

  “Thanks. That’s very good of you, my friend.”

  “No problem.” Rick smiled back, pleased that his uncharacteristic concern had slipped by with ease. He just about managed to restrain himself from actually rubbing his hands together like some kind of nefarious villain stereotype. As soon as they were moving, he had work to do.

  4

  Within ten minutes of setting off, the streetlights had trailed away and the last flickers of daylight had died upon the horizon. Now, save for the car’s sat nav spilling out an ethereal blue glow and the headlights illuminating the path ahead, they were in darkness. Sanjay, seemingly lost in thought, drove on, gazing blankly into the night.

  Rick waited for just enough time to pass before setting about his task without raising Sanjay’s suspicion. He knew full well the academic would insist on proper scientific method, carefully cleaning and examining their finds with surgical gloves and sterile surroundings before even thinking about getting a valuation. Unfortunately, he didn’t share his friend’s patience.

  Searching with one arm behind the driver’s seat, Rick’s fingers found the ridged waterproof material of his backpack. It was tucked away, almost completely under the chair, no wonder he’d forgotten it.

  With an awkward tug at the straps, the bag came free. Rick pulled out a few clothes, pondering how easy it would be for him to get changed without stopping the car or if it was even worth it. The stench had almost become part of him by this point.

  Rick unzipped his pocket and pulled out the four coins, running them through his fingers to clear some of the grime and reveal the embossed markings on their surface. He then opened up the bottom space of his backpack, taking out a fold-up, black, waterproof cover and spread it out on his lap.

  Rooting around in the main pocket for his phone, Rick’s palm hit something cold and hard, only then did he remember their other find and the bizarre sensation it had given him back in the cave.

  He pulled out the leather-wrapped blade and laid it beside the coins on the waterproof sheet. After finally locating his phone, Rick tapped the screen and a pale blue light sprung to life. Twelve missed calls and eight messages.

  Two of the calls were from his mum, one from his sister but the other nine were from an unknown number. Strange. To be fair, it was rare he answered his phone at the best of times, so for anyone that knew him it wouldn’t be too much of a concern. For the others, if it was anything urgent, they could call him back.

  The only important message was one from Sarah: “Pick Ellie up tomorrow @ 3.30. DON’T FORGET!” He recalled a brief conversation in which she explained that she and her dickhead new boyfriend needed to work late and made a mental note to be there bang on time for once. To be fair, his daughter never really seemed to care much if he was ten or fifteen minutes late. Ellie was normally happy enough chatting with the teacher on duty or whichever of her friends were collected late that day as she waited. Despite this, for some reason it would send Sarah into a major meltdown whenever she found out.

  Remembering his reason for finding the phone in the first place, Rick spaced out his finds and snapped a photo, briefly filling the vehicle with the luminous white light of his flash. Sanjay mumbled a complaint then went back to driving in silence. The lack of a significant reaction was a little odd given that he’d normally be berated for the tiniest of driving distractions, but Rick figured his friend was just tired.

  Since the morning he’d been mulling over who would be the best person to contact. If they actually had found the remains of the Loch Arkaig treasure Rick didn’t want the secret getting out, not before it was all bagged up and locked away somewhere safe at least.

  One name popped into his head, someone he was sure they could trust. Rick scanned back through his emails, looking for the contact information. Niall Shaw was a trader whose depth of knowledge
expanded to virtually everything under the sun, but he specialised in historic metalwork, coins, weapons, and tools.

  The pair of them had met at least a dozen times over the years and had immediately hit it off. They exchanged emails every now and again when one of them had a particularly interesting item or especially graphic meme. Rick slammed out a quick message and attached the photo before slumping back down in the chair, knowing all he could do now was wait.

  On a closer examination of the image that had just been sent off, there was something different about the dagger. Instead of the ionised green pig-iron Rick had been expecting to see in the photo, the metal had a black tint. Most likely some kind of bronze-arsenic alloy. The flash had also illuminated a set of markings on the blade, hidden under years of grime; a pattern of stripes that ran from the bottom to the top. Rick reached up for the interior light. “Look at this man.”

  Sanjay yawned. “I’m driving. Wait till we get home then we can examine them properly. Now please can you turn the blasted light off?”

  “Okay, calm down.” Blasted was the Sanjay equivalent to dropping an F-bomb. Knowing better than to push his luck, Rick flicked off the switch above their heads.

  Reclining the chair all the way back, he let his heavy eyelids droop until they were closed. Still feeling the swelling of the waves beneath him and the sting of wind in his face, he sunk deeper into the seat.

  Rick’s fingers wrapped around the handle of the weapon in his lap and a jolt of static snapped against them. It was the same thing as he’d felt when he first laid hands on the dagger back in the cave, only now it was stronger. Putting the sensation down to his tired mind playing tricks on him, Rick pushed the thought from his head and shut his eyes, unaware that it may well be for the last time.