by Kevin Brooks
“I’m going to put things right.”
“How?”
“That depends on him.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“Yeah?”
“Iggy doesn’t want any trouble—he just wants me. Once he’s got me, you’ll get Gina back and that’ll be the end of it. But if you start trying to ‘put things right,’ he’s not going to like it one bit.”
“Nice try,” Mike said, shaking his head, “but you’re wasting your time. Iggy’s not getting you. He’s not getting Gina. He’s not getting anyone. He’s either leaving here with nothing, or he’s not leaving here at all. That’s all there is to it. Now, are you going to move that car or not?”
She stared at him and he stared back, and I could feel a troubled silence hanging in the air. I didn’t like it. I didn’t understand it. And I was sick of not understanding things.
Why the friction?
Why the conflict?
Why the complexity?
I’m scared to death…I don’t need any complexity.
They kept staring at each other for a while, then Candy nodded her head, fetched her coat, and walked out of the cottage without so much as looking at me. I stepped into the doorway and watched her go. As she headed toward the car, with the gathering mist folding in her wake, I could sense something different about her. Something strange…something distant…almost secretive…
I didn’t know what it was.
As she got in the car and started the engine, Mike came up beside me.
“Is there a back way out?” he asked.
“What?”
“Another door…is there a back door?”
I looked at him.
“Come on, Joe,” he said sharply. “Snap out of it.” His eyes flicked up as Candy got the car moving. She drove slowly, with the headlights off, rolling the car across the clearing and around the back of the cottage. “Don’t worry about her,” Mike said to me. “She’ll be all right—she’s tough enough. It’s Gina we have to think about now.”
“I know,” I told him.
“She’s everything.”
“I know.”
He looked at me for a moment, then turned away and stared off silently into the darkness. From behind the cottage I heard Candy turning off the car’s ignition…then a few minutes’ silence…then the car door opening…slamming shut…another brief pause…and then hurried footsteps as she moved back toward the cottage. When she came around the corner, she was walking briskly and clutching her coat to her chest. She seemed oddly surprised to see me. Her steps faltered for a moment, her mouth opened…and then, without a word, she lowered her eyes and tightened her coat and hurried on into the cottage.
Lost in thought, perhaps…
Or maybe just cold.
I turned to Mike for his opinion, but when I saw the look on his face, I decided not to ask. He was still just standing there, frozen like a monument, still staring out into the dark…and the coldness in his eyes was terrifying.
“The back door’s locked and double-bolted,” I told him. “I’ve put the security chain on, too.”
“Good,” he said. “What about these windows?”
We’d come inside and locked the front door, and now Mike was checking out the rest of the room while I kept watch at the front window. Candy was over at the kitchen sink, filling the kettle…totally ignoring us. After Mike had finished in the front room, he went around all the other rooms—the bedrooms, the bathroom—meticulously checking that the windows were closed, locking all the doors behind him…but leaving the lights on and the curtains open. When he came back into the front room, he told me to get the fire going. While I was doing that, he started moving the furniture around.
Candy asked him what he was doing.
“Making sure we’re safe,” he said, sliding an armchair against the front door. “If they can’t get in, they’ll have to talk, and that’ll give us some time.”
“Time for what?” asked Candy.
“Thinking…watching…” He started shoving the sofa across the room. “Whatever’s necessary.”
“Then what?”
He paused and stood up straight, looking at her. “What’s your problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean—”
“I don’t—”
“What have you done since I got here?”
“I haven’t done anything—”
“Exactly—apart from sulking and moaning and giving me a hard time, you haven’t done anything.”
“I’m not sulking—”
“What are you doing, then?”
“Look,” she said, trying to stay calm. “I’m sick, for God’s sake. I’m sick and I’m scared and I feel like shit because it’s my fault that Iggy’s got Gina. And the only way to get her back is for me to go back to him. Why can’t you understand that? Moving the furniture around isn’t going to help. All you’re doing is making things worse—”
“All right,” said Mike. “What do you want us to do? You want us to give up?”
“No—”
“You want us dead?”
“No!” she yelled. “Of course I don’t—”
“You want to go back to your pimp?”
Silence filled the room for a moment. Candy’s face tightened and her eyes filled with rage and I thought for a second she was going to go crazy, but then her face seemed to die and her eyes went blank, and when she spoke, her voice was frail and empty.
“All right,” she said, staring coldly at Mike. “You want to know what I want? Is that it? OK…if you really want to know, I’ll tell you…” Her breath caught in her throat. “I want to go home…OK? I want to go home…” Her eyes started glistening. “I want to be what I used to be…I want to say sorry…I don’t want to cry anymore…I just…I just…” Her voice broke down in tears. “I just want to make everything better…”
She was sobbing and trembling, out of control, burying her head in her hands. Mike was staring at her, unable to speak. And I was moving across the room, thinking of nothing but holding her…
But I never got there.
A blaze of headlights burst through the window, freezing me in my tracks, and then we all heard the roar of a car outside—tires screeching, engine racing, music thumping…
It sounded like thunder.
And we all knew what it meant.
Mike reacted first, throwing himself to the floor and crawling behind the sofa. “Stay where you are,” he hissed loudly at me. “Just do what I say, and don’t look at me. I’m not here—d’you understand?”
I could only just hear him over the deafening music coming from the car. The heavy drums and booming bass were loud enough to shake the ground.
“Joe!” Mike hissed again.
“Yeah,” I said, “I heard you. You’re not here.”
“OK—how many cars are there?”
“Just one, I think…”
“Can you see Gina?”
I shielded my eyes and squinted through the window. The car was parked about fifteen meters away, facing the cottage. The headlights were on full beam, blinding me.
“I can’t see a thing,” I told Mike.
“OK,” he said. “Just stay there and keep watching. If anything happens, let me know.” He called across the room. “Candy! Get over here. You’re supposed to be with Joe at the window.”
She didn’t reply.
The music kept thumping.
“Candy!” Mike shouted again. “Come on! What are you doing? They’re waiting for you…They won’t do anything until they see you…We’ve got to make them do something…Candy?”
I didn’t want to take my eyes off the car—I wanted to see Gina…I wanted to see her—but Candy’s silence was killing me. I had to know if she was all right. I had to see her… I couldn’t help it.
I turned my head and looked across the room. She was standing behind the kitchen counter, as dead as I’d ever seen her. Dull-eyed, starin
g, senseless, surrendered…
“Candy,” I called out anxiously, “Candy…can you hear me?”
She didn’t respond.
“Listen,” I told her. “It’s all right, everything’s OK. Don’t be frightened. Just come over here…”
Her eyes never moved.
“Mike?” I said.
“I’ll get her,” he said, crawling out from behind the sofa and slithering across the floor. “You watch the car.”
There was a lot of stuff building up in me now, stuff I hadn’t felt before—fear and anger, cutting together like broken knives, grinding themselves into something I couldn’t control—and as I turned away and stared into the headlights again, the blinding light burned madness into my eyes. The music pounded through my head, throbbing blood, like a bursting heart…and I wanted to see faces. Darkness. Bodies. I wanted to crash through the window. I wanted to scream at the mist and run through the night and tear the trees down to the ground…
I wanted Gina.
I wanted Candy.
I didn’t want to die.
I wanted…
Nothing.
Sudden silence.
The music had stopped. The engine was quiet. The headlights blazed mutely in the deadening hush. There was nothing to hear, just the hum of the aftersound echoing the night, and—from across the room—Mike’s whispered pleading with Candy.
“Please…” he was saying to her, “for Gina’s sake…just show them you’re here. All you have to do is stand at the window with Joe. I won’t let Iggy do anything to you, I promise.”
I glanced over and saw them standing together at the counter. Candy hadn’t moved. She was still dead to the world, still lost in what was left of herself. Mike was beside her, holding her lifeless hand, gazing desperately into her lifeless eyes.
“Hey!” called a voice from the car outside, snapping my attention back to the window. “Hey, kid—you listening?”
I shielded my eyes against the lights again, trying to see who was calling out. It didn’t sound like Iggy.
“Open the window,” the voice said.
I hesitated.
“Do it,” Mike whispered from across the room. “Do as he says.”
I fumbled with the catch and opened the window. The headlights brightened and my breath turned white.
“Where is she?” the voice called out from the car.
Now that the window was open I could hear a lot better, and I was fairly sure it wasn’t Iggy.
“What?” I called back.
“You heard—where is she?”
“Where’s Gina?” Mike whispered.
I didn’t know what he meant. Was he asking me where she was? Or was he telling me to ask them? I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t. They were watching me. They’d see me talking. They mustn’t see me talking…
What should I do?
My mind started racing, panicking, trying to think…
And then my mouth opened and I heard myself say, “Who’s asking?”
“What?” hissed Mike.
“What?” said the voice.
“You heard me,” I said. “Who are you?”
“Christ…” muttered Mike.
Inside the car, someone laughed—a cold, hard laugh that shrank my heart—and I suddenly thought to myself, Shit, what are you doing? What are you saying? What the hell are you thinking? No questions, Iggy said…no questions…
But then his voice called out, as deep and dark as the night, and the sound of it was weirdly comforting.
“We had a deal, boy,” he said calmly. “You just blew it.”
“The deal was with you,” I called back, “no one else. All I heard just now was a voice. It could have been anyone. I had to make sure it was you.”
“You sure now?”
“I don’t know…I can’t see your face…”
“I can see yours. I could drop you right now.”
I suddenly realized how vulnerable I was—framed in the window, lit up like a Christmas tree…I was a sitting duck. If Iggy had a gun, he couldn’t miss. If he had a gun? Of course he had a gun. Would he use it, though? That was the question. Would he shoot me? I didn’t think so…not until he was sure that Candy was here…
No, I didn’t think so…
But that didn’t make me feel any better. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to move. My heart was hammering, my senses primed. I could hear everything—Mike and Candy breathing hard, the cooling tick of the engine, the faint rustle of dead leaves—and I could see without seeing…through the lights…into the car…I could see all the bodies, the heads, the hooded eyes…
I could see Gina.
Watching me.
Waiting…
“All right,” Iggy called out, “that’s it—get the bitch in the window now. You got ten seconds.”
“Gina first,” I said.
“What?”
“I’m not doing anything until I see my sister.”
“Another five seconds and you won’t have a sister.”
Time was melting again…everything was happening too fast, too slow…but it didn’t seem to matter. I was in time…in control…in touch with everything. I could hear Mike getting hold of Candy, struggling with her, trying to pull her toward the window, and I could hear Candy resisting him…
“Leave her, Mike,” I said.
“You heard him,” he hissed at me. “He’s going to hurt Gina—”
“No, he won’t—let Candy go.”
The struggling stopped.
I stared through the window.
Not breathing, not feeling…
No sound.
No heart.
Just white in the dark, like fire…white in the dark of my heart…a vision in white…in me…through me…
White in the dark.
The headlights went out.
I closed my eyes and opened them again. Mist swirled in the darkness, shrouding the shape of the car—jet-black metal, frosted white…silver catching the moon…and I could see gold and white in the smoked-glass shadows…I could see bodies and heads and chains and eyes…
I could see them all now. Figures in the tinted glass. Two in the front of the car and three in the back, Iggy in the passenger seat…
“Is she there?” Candy asked in a broken whisper. “Is Gina there?”
“I think so…”
I stared…
I think…
The car rocked slightly…the rear door swung open…and a man got out—lean, black, hollow-eyed. I’d never seen him before. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t look at anything. He just casually reached inside the car, got hold of something, and pulled it out.
It was Gina.
She could hardly stand. The man beside her was holding her up by her arm—not looking at her, just holding her up like an empty sack. She looked terrible—cold, dirty, disheveled…dazed. Drugged. Her eyes couldn’t focus. Her head hung loosely on her neck. She was barefoot and pale…shivering uncontrollably in a thin white T-shirt…
But she was alive.
She was everything.
“She’s there,” I said, as the man bundled her back into the car.
“Are you sure?” Candy asked.
“I just saw her,” I said, without taking my eyes off the car. “She doesn’t look too good, but—”
THUMP!
The sound came from across the room—a sudden dull impact…a breathless groan—and I turned around to see Mike falling heavily to the floor. My heart stopped. The moment froze—Mike not moving, not making a sound, just lying there in a heap…
Christ, I thought, he’s been shot…
But then I saw Candy…standing over Mike, her face pale and tense, holding a length of metal in both hands. For a ridiculous moment, I thought it was a sword—a long, blunt, heavy-looking sword—but almost immediately an image flashed into my mind—an image of Candy coming back from Mike’s car, looking surprised, clutching her coat to her chest, and everything became clear i
n an instant. It wasn’t a sword; it was a steering lock. She’d taken Mike’s steering lock from his car. She’d hidden it under her coat. She’d hit him over the head with it…knocked him cold…and now he was lying there…not moving, not making a sound…
I could see the blood on his head…
Too pink to be real.
I could hear my heart.
And someone shouting outside…
And Candy’s shallow breaths.
“What are you doing?” I said to her. “What have you done?”
“It’s all right,” she said, dropping the steering lock to the floor. “He’ll be all right. He’s not dead.”
Her eyes were pale and wild.
Another shout came from outside. I glanced through the window and saw Iggy getting out of the car…and now I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know how to know. I looked over at Candy. She was opening a kitchen drawer…taking something out…moving without any feeling—walking calmly around the counter, across the room, looking into my eyes, coming toward me…with a broad-bladed carving knife in her hand.
chapter twenty-two
I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was stand there looking at her. Looking at everything. Her face, her lips, her cheeks, the almond death of her eyes. Her neck, her legs, the shape of her body. Her sweated skin. The gleam of the knife, her silvered hand…
God…the knife.
She was standing in front of me now, her eyes fixed on mine, her face devoid of all feeling.
What was I supposed to do?
Anything?
Nothing?
I tried to say something, but my mouth wouldn’t open. I tried to reason, but my head was empty. All I could do was have faith.
It’s up to you, Candy, I thought.
It’s all up to you.
A loud metallic click came from outside. Candy cocked her head at the sound, then blinked slowly and looked back at me again.
“Stay here,” she said. “Lock the door behind me, then call the police.”
“What?”
She reached up and placed a finger on my lips. “Just do it, Joe…please? Just do it.”
Silenced by the touch of her fingertip, I looked into her eyes, searching for an explanation…or just some kind of truth. It was hard to find. There was something there, some kind of light in the darkness, but it was almost too faint to see. It was just something, a barely perceptible signal, like a flickering candle on a distant hill…
