The Forgotten Child

by D. E. White

  ‘We’ve been locked up for two days. Do you think we haven’t had enough time to kill each other if we were going to?’ Niko said. ‘You made a big mistake doing that. We made peace. It’s done now so fuck you, Nicholls.’

  ‘You made up? How pathetic. How utterly pathetic.’ Noah’s scorn cut across his words and he lifted his, gun. ‘Luckily Larissa can rely on me.’

  ‘No! Please, Noah,’ Holly said hoarsely. To have found and then lost her brother in a matter of hours would be the ultimate irony. Noah was walking back towards the desk, past Cath, and now he was level with her, his back was turned.

  She sprang like a hunting cat, swinging her right fist, feeling it connect, propelling herself forward.

  Noah must have sensed her movement because he was turning as she hit him. The gun fell to the floor with a sharp metallic click, but she hardly noticed. She was immersed in the fight, delivering a quick upper cut that made blood pour from Noah’s mouth. Seconds later he hit home with a blow to the side of her head. He wasn’t trained, which gave her a slight advantage, outweighed by the fact he was physically bigger and stronger.

  Gasping for breath, sweat dripping into her eyes, her hair, loosened from its ponytail fell heavy and wet across her shoulders. She went in for another shot, dancing on the balls of her feet, circling, jabbing when she could, never giving him a moment to pull the knife she felt sure he had.

  He launched himself at her, grappling, trying to pin her arms, but she raised a quick knee and he released her, hands to his groin, bent double. But whilst this gave her a momentary advantage, and she rained blows down on his head, it also gave him the chance he needed to stagger over to the desk and yank a jack knife from underneath the ancient paperwork. The brittle yellow sheaves of paper flew up in the air, covered them both as he lunged forward.

  Holly could hear the other captives yelling her name. It was the roar of a home crowd, and without this dirty new addition to the fight, she might have won. As it was she felt the knife slide home, pain flaring between her ribs, as they twisted and grappled, her hand closing on his wrist, pulling it away with a massive effort. Both their muscles shaking, eyes level and glazed. But as the knife jabbed again, Holly felt like her stomach and shoulder were burning, as though red-hot pokers had been stuck into her body. She was still going, but she was beaten.

  Blood was running down her forearms where she tried to defend herself, making the floor slippery and treacherous. Cath was screaming now, rolling herself across the floor, trying to trip Noah. It was over. As Holly raised a hand to dash blood from her eyes, she misjudged a lunge and fell. He was on her in an instant, pinning her arms, holding the knife to her throat.

  Holly could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he pulled her hair, forcing her head back, exposing her throat. Her lungs were burning, and her whole body shook with exhaustion and pain.

  Noah, also gasping for breath, dragged her towards the packing cases, the knife still at her throat as he yanked a couple of cable ties from the debris and wrapped them around her wrists. Then he gave her a vicious shove that knocked her off her feet. Before she could do anything her ankles were bound again, Noah yanking the cable ties so tight they bit into her flesh.

  She made no sound, peering at him through the blood. She had failed. She had lost a fight, even if it was a dirty one.

  ‘You fucking evil bitch!’ Noah told her when he could speak again. His face was swelling, both eyes showing signs of bruising, and like Holly, his clothing was torn and slick with sweat. ‘My dad told me about your mum, how she was a mouthy bitch and didn’t know how to do what she was told.’

  Noah crouched next to her, knife poised, and she looked straight into his eyes, mouth set, chin up. No way was she going to give him thrills by pleading for her life. For others yes, but if this was Milo’s legacy, she was going down as a real Hughes.

  He spat suddenly and a bit of tooth bounced across the concrete floor. ‘You’ve wasted enough time, and I need to go now, but first …’ He took hold of her T-shirt and yanked it hard enough to tear the material, leaving her upper arm bare. Taking the knife he made two quick slashes, and Holly winced.

  ‘Now look at it.’ He put a hand to her chin, forcing her head down, so she dropped her eyes. A bloody “L” was carved into her arm, adding to the prolific wounds across her body. She was beginning to feel woozy, from exhaustion, terror and blood loss.

  ‘So you’ve had your revenge, now let the kids go,’ she said wearily.

  ‘Shut up. Your kid might be okay at the moment, but I could walk out there and …’ He made a slicing motion with the knife. The gun was back in his pocket, and he seemed to be in a hurry, glancing at his watch, frowning round at them all. ‘I told you, I need to go. Let’s wrap this party up.’

  Holly quit talking, moving, and lay watching her brother die, feeling her own blood ebb from her body. Cath was sobbing, muffled, strangled sobs into her hands.

  Noah walked over to Cath now. ‘You next, you slag. I know what happened between you and Joey. Jesus, you’d shag anything that moved, wouldn’t you? This might help you think twice …’

  Cath screamed, high and terrified as Noah gripped her chin, taking his knife and slashing an “L” just as he had done to Holly. But on Cath he sliced the letter on her cheek. Blood oozed from the wound, dripping onto her shoulder, and she froze, the horror of what he had done overriding her pain.

  Unheeded, Niko continued to babble, his own knife still in his hand. He bent over Jayden’s body, fumbling with his shirt. Was he trying to help? That might mean Jay was still alive, Holly mentally crossed her fingers, hope rising. It almost looked like he was pushing Niko off, but Niko had a hand on Jayden’s belly, pressing down on the wound. Was he helping or was he helping him die? It was impossible to tell.

  Noah, satisfied with his work on the two women, turned to the cage and raised his gun. ‘Time’s up. I’ll put Jayden out of his misery first.’

  ‘Dad!’ A child’s voice made them freeze, and footsteps clanked on the metal walkway. ‘No!’

  ‘Ethan!’ Noah snapped. ‘I told you to wait in the van.’

  But the child never wavered, his dark eyes taking in the two women, the two men apparently struggling in the cage, Noah presiding over the gathering. Then he raised his hand and pulled the trigger.

  Holly gasped, her whole body shaking with horror. The child handled the gun with calm efficiency, as though he had done it many times before.

  There was a crack and two gunshots echoed around the warehouse, deafening the captives. Blood splattered across the wall to the side of the cage and Niko slumped to the ground, his body covering Jayden’s.

  ‘Dad!’ Ethan moved towards the cage now as Holly yelled at him to watch out. He spun round as Noah dived for his gun hand, trying to wrestle the weapon away.

  ‘Noah, don’t be stupid. He’s a kid!’ Cathryn shouted. But Noah had misjudged the boy and as his hand closed on the child’s arm some sixth sense must have alerted the boy to the danger and he fired for the second time.

  Noah staggered back, clutching his chest, and Ethan, with trembling hands, aimed the gun at him again. But he never fired the next shot. Even in the dim light Holly could see blood spurting from Noah’s body, and he collapsed, lying still within seconds. The pool of red spread ever wider, gleaming in the light of the torches. So much blood.

  The warehouse was silent, as Holly, Cath and Ethan stared at one another, paralysed with shock.

  Ethan ran over to the cage, yanking at the padlock, pushing his arms through the bars to reach Jayden. His footprints, sticky with blood, left dark tracks on the floor, and the sour, sickly smell of blood and excrement filled the mouldy air.

  Cathryn was vomiting, trying to get up. ‘We’ve got to get out of here! We need to get help.’

  ‘My dad’s dead!’ Ethan cried out. ‘He’s got no pulse and there’s so much blood. He’s dead!’

  Holly’s heart wrenched for him, for herself, but she could only think of Milo. Sh
e wriggled slowly into sitting position. ‘Ethan? Ethan, I’m so sorry that your dad is dead. Please could you help me to cut these ties? There’s a knife on the floor over by the sofa. Please, tell me if Milo’s okay?’

  The boy stood watching her. His face was white and pinched, bones outlined like a baby bird’s. ‘Milo’s mum,’ he said, and then, very slowly he walked over to the table, and picked up the knife. In his other hand he still carried the gun.

  ‘That’s right, leave the gun on the table and come over here,’ Holly told the boy, carefully keeping her voice calm and even. Cath said nothing, but she could hear her friend’s gasping little sobs as Ethan made his way slowly over to Holly.

  There was another shout, this time from outside the building, and Holly held her breath. Ethan stopped, startled, gripping the knife, looking back at Noah’s body, at the grotesque figures entwined in the cage.

  ‘Police!’

  ‘Ethan, it’s okay, keeping coming to me. Is Milo okay? Is he outside?’ Holly said urgently, as the boy slid the knife between the cable ties on her wrists. His hands were shaking, and he bit his lip with concentration, but he carried on slicing until she was free. ‘Thank you. Ethan, where is Milo?’ she said urgently.

  He blinked at her, his face almost grey with shock now, and his eyes bright with tears. But this was one self-possessed kid. Either that or he was so used to violence that the deaths he had just witnessed were nothing out of the ordinary, ‘My dad’s dead, Holly.’

  ‘I know, darling … I’m sorry.’ The endearment was out before she realised. ‘I know … It wasn’t your fault, any of it. Please, Ethan, where is Milo?’ The death of her brother and the revelations of betrayal were nothing compared to her son. She could see firearms officers swarming around the floor below, hear shouts as they searched.

  ‘Yeah, he’s in the van. I told him not to come in because he’s got that broken leg.’

  ‘Where’s the van? Is it here?’

  The boy pointed towards a set of double doors, at the other end of the floor space. It was set below a rusting sign that read ‘LOADING BAY 1’.

  ‘Go out there and the van’s under the trees.’ He turned away from her now and began to walk slowly towards the dead bodies, brushing past Cath as though she didn’t exist.

  ***

  Quickly, as police officers began to make their way up the metal gantries, Holly stumbled across the floor, pushing her way through the rubbish to the doors. She shoved them and to her surprise they creaked open with minimal effort, like they had been in use recently. Outside was a concrete ramp that she supposed must have been used for goods deliveries at some point. Steep steps took her down to the ground level. The flash of blue lights almost blinded her, and her wounds were agony. Holly looked around wildly, checking out the shadowed, overgrown car park, gasping through her tears. Clamping a hand to her stomach in a helpless attempt to stem the blood flow, she started forward.

  Police cars and uniformed officers, some of them armed, were ringed around the main buildings, and as she staggered faster someone caught her arm, and gently pulled her to a halt.

  ‘Holly! What’s happened?’ Karen was out of breath, her face red from exertion. ‘Is everyone safe? Where’s Milo?’

  Holly tugged her arm free. ‘Milo! He’s in a white van somewhere in the car park.’ She looked helplessly around at the huge area. ‘Ethan knows where the van is. You need to bring him out! Noah’s dead, and Jayden, I think …’ She hadn’t anticipated not being able to find the van, had expected it to be parked fairly close the main building.

  ‘Okay, we’ve got officers sealing off the whole industrial estate, so we will find him. Holly you’re hurt. Get the paramedics to sort you out and we’ll find Milo.’ Karen glanced around at the vast shadowed area. Around the buildings, powerful searchlights had been set up, bathing the scene in an eerie whiteness, rinsing the colour from everything. She signalled to a uniformed officer and quickly briefed him. The crackle of radios, the shouts and the sound of vehicles filled the industrial estate.

  The white van was parked away under the overhanging trees, near to the fence that led to the railway line. More police cars were arriving towards the front of the yard and the night air was filled with the sound of shouts, sirens, and patterned with flashing blue lights.

  As they surged forward, Karen swept her own powerful torch across the shadows that jostled around the edges of the searchlight. Further up, parked in amongst a huddle of rusting cars and the skeletons of several double decker buses, Holly could see the rear bumper of the van. The registration began with RH. It was the van she had seen parked behind Ruby’s flats. The van that may or may not have contained a body hidden under the sacking.

  Ignoring the shouts behind her, Holly was off across the concrete, and down another ramp, slipping in her haste, limping over the broken concrete towards the vehicle. Karen was shouting her name as she reached the van, panting. She ran round to the side, scrabbling for the door handle. It was locked and she went to the rear doors. Her hands were shaking, teeth chattering, as the handles refused to budge.

  In desperation she picked up a broken brick and went back to the driver’s door. Without hesitating she hefted the brick through the glass. The driver’s window shattered and she reached in, scrabbling for the door handle, scraping her bare arm on the broken shards of glass.

  ‘Holly!’

  She thought it was Karen yelling, but she didn’t care. Holly yanked the door open, climbing onto the seats, pushing at the bulkhead between the driver’s seats and the rear, shouting his name.

  Remembering from childhood her dad’s customised vans, Holly’s frantic fingers met a lever and she yanked it with all her strength. Thank God, as with Donnie’s vans, this one had a partially collapsible bulkhead, allowing for access to the rear whilst out on the road. She scrambled over the seats to the rear of the van. He was lying on a grubby blanket, hands and feet tied, eyes closed. His plaster cast glimmered white in the dim light.

  ‘Milo? Milo, can you hear me?’

  His eyelids flickered as Holly tried frantically so see in the dim light, to check if he had any injuries. She leant over and pulled at the side door until it slid open on rusty runners. The harsh white light from the security floodlights poured in and Karen was running towards her.

  Milo was trying to say something, and Holly bent close. His face was cold, but his breath was warm on her cheek. ‘Mum? I’ve been waiting for so long … Where’s Ethan?’

  She pulled him gently into her arms, sitting and holding him close, feeling his soft hair, the warmth of his body. He was alive, that was all that mattered. Tears tore her body apart and she sobbed with him, clinging to her son, stroking his head over and over again.

  When she looked up, the paramedics were hurrying towards her and Karen was standing at her shoulder, smiling, icy blue eyes surprisingly bright with emotion.

  ‘Holly!’ Another familiar voice broke through the clamour of the emergency services, and she turned to see Dev running across the parking area.

  She was holding her son, eyes momentarily closed, when she felt a hand on her arm. She smiled as Dev leant down and kissed her, smoothing a hand over the boy’s head.

  ‘Fuck, Holly, I thought I’d lost you then, and Milo too.’ His voice was shaking and he was out of breath.

  ‘You found us.’

  ‘I was so close behind, but not near enough to help. I saw you talking to Noah, but when he Tasered you and shoved you in the van I was too far away to get to you. So I ran after it as far as I could, then got back to my car and followed you when the van pulled away from the Buckly traffic lights. That was dead lucky he caught a red light or I’d never have caught up. I really wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, so I watched and waited for a chance to grab you, but that bloke, Noah, had a gun the whole time. He was dead careful and when I saw him carry you into the warehouse, I followed. I heard Cath’s voice …’

  ‘And then he finally decided to call us,’ Karen said
tartly, from behind him.

  ‘Yeah, well I wanted to see if I could get her first, without any hassle,’ Devril said. ‘The only thing I didn’t do was go back and search the van because I wasn’t sure if it had an alarm on it. I figured it would be better to wait, and if Milo was in the van, at least he was safe, whereas I thought Noah might kill Holly. I had no idea what he was planning.’

  ‘I imagine that Ethan slipped out when you came to meet us by the entrance gates,’ Karen said soberly. ‘Poor kid.’

  ‘Mum, you’re bleeding all over me.’ Milo pulled away a little and his voice sounded stronger, ‘You’re hurt, look!’

  ‘Only a bit,’ Holly told him as she closed her eyes again and sank down onto the van step. ‘I feel a bit sick now actually …’

  Her last coherent thought was that Milo was safe, before she slid into unconsciousness, embracing the blackness.

  Chapter 40

  Milo sat quietly, subdued and pale, his head resting on her shoulder. He had barely been parted from her since his abduction, even insisting she went to the toilet with him, sleeping in her bed, but he was eating properly now, and had begun to talk about what happened to him. Outwardly his bruises were healing, and the cast had finally come off his leg. Steph assured Holly this was a good sign, and they were due to start weekly counselling sessions as soon as Milo had recovered physically.

  ‘Mum, what will happen to Ethan?’ He kept asking this and she had tried to shield him from it at first, explaining that the boy who had been kind to him during the long days and nights of captivity, had shared his food and water with him, and even promised to let him go, had been helping police with their inquiries.

  Ethan hadn’t fired the shot that killed Niko. Holly, along with Cath, had reiterated that Noah had attacked the boy, was fighting with him when Ethan’s second shot went off. It could easily have been an accident, but even if it wasn’t, the child wasn’t to blame. The fact that he had then freed Holly, had been so concerned about Milo, were all positives, and would go in his favour.