by Mark Ayre
If she pissed him off, he might stop playing ball. Whatever happened, as he had already pointed out, Mercury couldn’t stay awake forever. Within, at most, a couple of days, nature would free Heidi if Yassin and his followers could not.
If patience wasn’t his thing; he might decide to go for it; kill the baby and attack. He had her outnumbered. There were only so many times she could get lucky.
“I’ve already explained what I believe will happen if you get your way,” said Mercury. “I propose Imran hands Xyla to her mother. Kayla then walks to the car as I walk to you. At the same time, we reach our destinations. You get to render me unconscious. Will drives off with Edie, Kayla and Xyla.”
Mercury waited. Yassin considered. Imran struggled. It hung on a knife’s edge.
“I think,” said Yassin, at last, “you’re taking me for a ride. What happens if, when you meet the woman and baby in the middle, you all decide to run for the car. See, with your plan, I surrender my leverage. Not smart.”
“It’s the only way this works. I wish I could trust you, but I don’t.”
Yassin’s face darkened. “I’m losing patience. Perhaps I kill the mother, and we negotiate with the baby. I need only one.”
“Make a counteroffer,” said Mercury, pushing a little further. Afraid of what he might do but refusing to trust he wouldn’t kill Kayla and Xyla if she surrendered. Asking for a counteroffer was a risk. She had no plan if he refused to relent.
“I appreciate humans have a funny thing about babies,” Yassin said at last. “Final offer, then.”
Everybody waited. At last, Yassin pointed to Imran.
“Take the baby to the car. Open the front passenger door, pass her to Edie, and stand by Mercury. Leon, do not touch Kayla but keep within a metre of her. If she moves before my arm is around lovely Mercury’s throat, gut her.”
At these last words, he smiled at Kayla, then Mercury. Because it was what he wanted to see, Mercury tried not to show the pain his words caused.
“Once Xyla is in the car, Imran will escort you to me. Once I have you, Kayla can join William. Do you agree?”
Mercury wasn’t happy, but on this, there would be no negotiation. Given the players involved, it was also not her decision.
“Kayla, you understand what he’s asking,” Mercury said. “It’s up to you.”
“Do it,” Kayla said at once. “I don’t care, whatever it takes to save my baby. Do it.”
Yassin flicked a finger and Imran made towards the car. Every step of the way, Xyla cried, her hands over Imran’s shoulder, desperate to reach her mother.
Neither mother nor daughter should have been involved. Mercury didn’t think Kayla would see her baby again.
She tried not to cry.
Imran reached the car. Edie had already opened the passenger door and slammed it as soon as she received the baby. The moment Imran was no longer in possession of Xyla, Kayla broke into grateful tears.
Returning to Mercury, Imran took her arm, which she promptly shook off. When he retook it, she looked at Yassin.
“If your little follower doesn’t want to escort me with a broken hand, please tell him I’m capable of walking unassisted.”
Yassin sighed. “Let go, Imran.”
Imran released. Side by side, he and Mercury approached Yassin. As they walked, Mercury looked to the man Will and Kayla had carried from the house, who had died when Mercury led Yassin and co. here. Reminded of how ruthless the demons were, she realised Kayla would be dead within a minute.
On they walked. In anticipation, Yassin took a half step forward. A few more steps and she would be within his arm’s reach. Leon was already in arm’s reach of Kayla. A plan emerged. There could be no slip-up.
Five steps from Yassin, Mercury moved to the left, off the direct line to the demon on which she had been walking, towards Leon.
“Oi,” said Yassin.
Imran moved to close the gap, and Mercury punched the side of his head while jumping towards Leon.
Imran flew to one side. Yassin leapt at Mercury.
“Run,” she shouted at Kayla.
A second later, Yassin had his arm around her throat. Before that, she stepped on Leon’s leg, side-on, at the knee.
Snap.
Leon screamed. Kayla ran.
Imran was up. He stared at Yassin.
“After her, idiot.”
Propelled by the insult, Imran put on a burst of surprising speed, moving at least twice as fast as Kayla. Over a greater distance, she wouldn’t have stood a chance.
With her head start, Kayla reached the car three seconds before he would have caught her and slammed the door a second before he could follow her into the back.
Immediately, Will hit the accelerator. Possessed by purpose, Imran chased the car, though he had no hope of catching his target.
Back where they had begun, Yassin tightened his grip around Mercury’s throat. Pressed against her back, he whispered in her ear.
“And you called me untrustworthy.”
Had she the opportunity, Mercury would have reminded him he would have killed Kayla had Mercury not acted.
Because of the tight grip around her throat, she had no such chance.
“No matter,” Yassin said. “Now we’re alone, let’s finish this.”
They were not alone. Yassin had forgotten Leon, despite the continued groans of agony. Because of these groans, Yassin heard no approaching footsteps.
Again, he tightened his grip. When he felt Mercury weaken, he pushed her away. When she turned, he punched her in the face.
Spinning, she saw the ground approach then hit. Before she could move, Yassin’s foot greeted her stomach. The air left her.
Dizzy, fading, pained, she stared at the monster.
“Bye-bye, Mercury,” he said.
A knife tip appeared through his chest, through the heart.
When he had spoken his final words, he had beamed. When life left his eyes, the smile did not depart. He would carry it into death.
The knife tip disappeared. Mercury’s would-be murderer collapsed to reveal her saviour. From the ground, Mercury smelt the peppermint and lavender. With his free hand, her saviour pulled her to her feet.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now, stab me too.”
She thought this request might surprise him. He smiled, but showed no other reaction. Though it might have been her imagination, she was sure he slipped the knife a little around his leg, as though afraid she might grab the blade and stab herself.
“He’s a demon, and so am I,” said Mercury. “Please, stab me.”
“No can do.”
Rather than ask why, she said, “Who are you?”
“Oh, Mercury, I’m the answer to all your prayers,” he said. “But you can call me Richard. Richard Unwin.”
Thirty
At the top of the street, William twisted the wheel and almost lost his backend spinning left. Fifteen yards along this escape road he did the inexplicable and slammed the breaks, causing the whole car to jolt.
“What are you doing?” said Kayla. Shrill, on the verge of hysteria. In her arms, she clutched her baby. Xyla was quiet. Her mother’s tears dripped to her near bald head.
”Dad?”
From Kayla and Xyla in the rearview, Will looked beside him to Edie. Stroking her hair, he sought to appear positive. In the teenage smile, he saw her as a child, a toddler, a baby. From the minute of her birth, he knew a love so powerful it was overwhelming. Only one owned near as much space in his heart.
Gina.
Across the street, a path led onto a parallel road. If Kayla didn’t recognise it, Edie would.
“You both need to get out,” he said.
“What?” Kayla squealed.
“You need to go now. Through there. Find refuge. Kayla, is there anywhere you can go? Somewhere safe?”
“I want to go home.”
His heart broke to see her clutching her daughter. He couldn’t help but think of Gina holding Ed
ie in those first few weeks. Sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. Occasionally, it had been so hard, raising a baby, they’d thought it undoable. Still, they always had each other, and they’d never faced anything like this.
“Kayla, I’m so sorry I got you involved.”
“My daughter almost died because of you.”
He wished he could refute her.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. Though it hurt to see her, he forced himself not to speak until he’d met her eye.
Lucky he did. Over Kayla’s shoulder, through the rear windscreen, Will watched Imran burst out of Paul’s street, almost slip to the tarmac as he turned, and race towards the car.
“Shit.”
William had never liked Yassin and Zainab’s children. Despite the kindly couple’s best efforts, the kids had been aloof, disinterested, often cruel. Between the two of them, they caused their parents much heartache. When they left home, Zainab cried. Yassin was unusually quiet. While comforting the couple, Will had wondered if it might not be for the best.
Zainab was dead. The words flashed through his mind. Who knew what had happened to Yassin? It was different from Gina. Will had watched Yassin order Paul’s murder and knew he would have killed Kayla and Xyla. Still, if Yassin had sprinted around the corner, approaching fast, Will wasn’t sure he could bring himself to action; to stop Yassin by any means necessary.
“Dad?” repeated Edie. “What are we going to do?”
In answer, Will put the car into reverse and hit the accelerator. Running faster than most humans could manage, and not in control; by the time Imran realised he was going to come off second-best in a head-on collision, it was too late.
Kayla bowed and whispered reassurances in her daughter’s ear. Edie and Will watched Imran. Saw the moment realisation hit and he tried to swerve.
Then he was gone. As efficiently as if teleporting.
Across the roof, heavy thuds. As though bricks rather than rain fell from the sky.
A second later he appeared once more, crashing into, but not smashing the windshield, bouncing off the bonnet and slamming the road. Stopping, folded, crumpled.
Will hit the brakes. Five metres from where they eventually stopped lay the still body. There was every chance Will had killed a man.
Driven by this realisation Will threw open his door and stepped into the road.
“Dad, come back.”
In the back of the car, Kayla continued to whisper to Xyla while quietly sobbing.
In defiance of his daughter’s command, Will took a step towards the body. Imran had held the baby. If Yassin had given the order, Imran would have snapped the little girl’s neck. If Will could hold that thought, he could live with what he’d done. More: be glad Imran was dead.
Imran wasn’t dead.
As Will took another step, the collapsed man moved. His hands slapped the tarmac. With some effort, he pushed to a crouch, then sat in the road, facing Will.
The hit had smashed Imran’s nose, sliced his mouth and cut his arm.
No doubt, Will had caused more damage, but these three injuries were immediately apparent.
Blood rolled over his lips from his nose, and onto his jaw from his lips. From the cut in his arm, blood wound to his hand. From his fingertips, it dripped to the tarmac.
Wherever the blood touched, Imran began to melt.
In the face of this disintegration, Will took a shocked backstep, putting him in line with his open door.
Imran screamed. When he did, half his jaw cracked and fell away, dangling in front of his neck. Exposed teeth began to crumble or fall from the gums.
Imran ran towards Will.
Fighting the overpowering urge to be sick, Will dived into the car and slammed the door. The keys were still in the ignition; the engine running.
When Imran was half a metre away, Will hit the pedal. At speed, they retreated from the crumbling man.
Who kept coming, though his face was half gone and his arm split in two. Faster and faster, he came.
If Will continued to accelerate, they’d escape. Imran couldn’t match their pace forever. There was a reason people drove forwards, rather than backwards. If Will continued to accelerate, he would crash.
Will needed to turn but was afraid with Imran so close. Scared the burning beast would dive onto the rotating car. If Will couldn’t shake the stowaway, Imran might use his blood to burn a hole in the roof through which he would climb. Once in the confined space, a shake of his head would cover Will, Edie, Kayla and Xyla in his acid. Trapped, they would die in agony.
Will could see only one alternative.
With one foot he slammed the break; with one hand, he covered his daughter’s face, determined to do his best to protect her, should Imran come through the windscreen.
Edie screamed as Imran hit the car at incredible speed. Folding at his midriff, his face smashed the bonnet. He rebounded, collapsing onto the road.
Jaw, some teeth and much of his skin, he left on the car.
Blood, which spurted from his face when he connected, decorated the bonnet and windscreen.
On the news, Will had once watched a group of balaclava-clad thugs chuck red paint across the windscreen of a suited woman and her young children. They were animal rights terrorists. She the CEO of a company that ran clinical trials on monkeys. The paint represented the blood of the animals who had died during her time at the company’s head.
The symbolic blood had been a warning shot. When the CEO refused to stand down, they returned. This time, they threw acid.
Acidic blood felt like the next step.
A sizzling filled the car. Will watched stunned as the windscreen seemed to thin. A single drop worked its way through and splashed onto the dash.
Steam rose.
“Get out,” said Will. “Now.”
The two front doors flung open. Edie and Will dived out. Will made it three steps from the car before realising they were two short of a complete escape.
Kayla remained, her head bowed over Xyla, clutching her daughter as though the baby were full of helium, and might float away if released.
Blood broke through the bonnet. There was a fizz and spark. What would happen when the acid began to eat through the engine?
Fearing an imminent explosion, Will threw open the back door and crouched beside Kayla. In her arms, Xyla kicked and waved. Kayla still muttered indecipherable words, as though chanting a spell. And cried.
“Come on, Kay, we need to go.”
No response was forthcoming. When Will leaned over and undid her seatbelt, she didn’t lash out. A hand under her arm, he was able to guide her from the car to the path. Still too close for comfort.
Edie stood over Imran, staring at the melting corpse. Assuming he was now dead.
“Get away from him,” Will said. “This way.”
They had braked at the T-Junction at the end of a street. Taking Kayla’s arm, Will led her two steps down that road before realising it was the street so recently fled.
Halfway down, spread across the road, between Kayla and Paul’s houses, were three shapes. Bodies. One still moving, The others still.
One was Paul. Though it wasn’t Will’s fault Paul was dead—Gina, after all, had planned to kill him before Will knew what was going on—he still felt guilt. They had been so close to Will’s car. To escape.
Will’s car. He looked to where it remained parked, untouched. If the vehicle they had attempted escape in was unusable, Will’s was not.
Escape was his first thought. Gina his second.
“Edie, I need you to stay with Kayla. You see anyone coming. Hide.”
Before she could argue, Will jogged down the road, towards the bodies. One was Paul. Another must be Mercury. The final either Leon or Yassin. He could only hope the mover was Mercury.
Drawing nearer, he realised his mistake. Mercury wasn’t there. Yassin was still, Leon writhing.
Though he was wasting time, Will stopped over Yassin. A friend for so many
years. A kind, caring man.
He had died with a smile on his face. Will hoped what lay beyond had reunited him with Zainab.
Trying not to breakdown with all he had lost, Will looked to Leon, a writhing bag of pain. He clung to his leg as though pressure could mend the obvious break. Will suspected Leon was like Imran. If so, he was lucky the bone hadn’t ripped through the skin. If it had, he’d be covered in blood. Also dead.
Whatever Imran, Leon and Gina had become, Yassin was something else. There was a hole through his heart. His chest and stomach were blood-soaked, but it hadn’t eaten at his flesh or turned him to a pool of mush. Whatever was going on, Will was miles from all the answers.
He turned to Paul’s house. Gina’s car had gone.
Swearing, Will sprinted down the drive, into the house, and into the living room. The spot where they had left Gina was empty. During the confrontation, she must have woken. When Will was driving away, and Mercury was killing Yassin and escaping, she must have got to her car and done the same.
When Kayla freed Will, she left the handcuffs chained to the radiator. The key was in the hole of the open lock.
Taken with a spontaneous idea, Will dropped to his knees and released the cuffs. Those in hand, he returned to the street, thinking about where Gina might be; trying not to think of what she might be doing.
Over Leon, he nudged the writing man or monster in the side. “Stop whining.”
Somehow, Leon was able to shut up a moment. His eyes burned with hatred.
“Going to kill me?”
“Not if I don’t have to,” Will said, projecting confidence and ruthlessness he did not feel. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“So you’ll torture me in the street? How long before the police arrive? Think I’ll tell you what you need in time?”
“No,” said Will. “That’s why we’re not doing anything in the street.”
He held the handcuffs aloft, swaying them this way and that, as though attempting to hypnotise.
To Leon, he said, “You’re coming with me.”
Thirty-One
Half an hour before sunrise, Trey woke with his alarm. For the first time in his life, he eschewed the snooze and rose immediately. In his en-suite, he showered before returning to his wardrobe and working through his limited supply of clothes. For his mother, he picked a plain pair of black jeans and his smartest top. For himself, he picked shoes that would not give him blisters if he had to do a lot of walking.
