by K W Frost
‘What’ll you be doing, Snake?’ asked Manu.
‘I’m going in there after him. We gotta kill this arsehole or else we’re in deep shit with the Wolfman,’ Snake muttered, taking two more shotgun shells from his pocket. ‘Don’t worry if you hear this old boy going off. It’ll just mean I’ve got him.’
Child watched Slab and Manu move away on their separate routes.
He ached from the beating he had been given less than two hours before. He should have been in a hospital bed recovering. The initial burst of adrenaline was wearing off now, and Child was beginning to feel the pain again.
He rose up slowly from the dry bed of pine needles. Turning slowly, he dropped down the far side of the sandy hill, moving away from the road and Snake. Child set off running in a mile-eating lope that if he had been fully fit he could have continued for hours. His best defence was now distance.
After half a kilometre, Child stopped by a punga in a small clearing. Looking up, he could see the stars through the treetops. He quickly found the Southern Cross and determined his general direction. Child reckoned that he was in the pine forest bordering the west coast of the North Island, probably near Muriwai Beach. His choices were to go west to the beach and then go up until he found help, or to go east and head further with the aim of finding a farm. If he headed north or south, he might travel for hours and not find a way out of the forest.
Child chose to go inland. His shoes hardly made a sound as he flowed over the spongy pine carpet. Whenever possible he looked ahead, picking his path in advance. He wasn’t overly concerned with the people looking for him. It was deceptive just how far you could travel when running freely, whereas Snake had to check possible hiding places and watch out for an ambush. Gradually, the colours of the forest turned lighter, indicating a change in scene and an end to the forest. Child guessed that he had crossed the kilometre from the last road. He slowed down and approached the edge of the pines with caution.
Holding back some five metres from the edge, Child looked out onto the open farmland in front of him. He could vaguely make out dark shapes on the ground, their evenly-spread dark colouring typical of Angus beef cattle. He wondered if his pursuers were familiar with handling cattle.
His breathing had returned to normal as he slowly moved out to the edge of the trees. Looking both ways down the road, something caught his eye and he veered hard to his right. Then he saw what had alerted his instincts: a shadow that was the wrong shape.
Standing under a tree no more twenty metres away was a man.
Child cursed silently. Snake had said he knew this area. Of course, he would know that the forest finished here. Maybe Snake had guessed that Child could hear him and hadn’t left anyone back on the road, or maybe it was just bad luck that he had come out of the forest at exactly the same point as the guard under the tree.
Child carefully surveyed ground between him and the shadow. He had had enough of running. Moving slowly, he felt the ground before his feet and edged back into the trees. He hadn’t been seen yet and he planned on keeping it that way. When Child was twenty metres back into the forest he moved sideways until he was directly behind the tree where the mobster waited.
Child glided along like a ghost, each step taken with care, his Army and deer hunting experience helping him to remain silent. When he was standing directly behind the forty metre tall pine, he picked up a small stick. Instead of trying to circle right around the tree, Child crouched down. He bent his legs and dropped his left hand down to the ground for balance, tossing the stick out to his left.
Nothing happened. Child waited for what seemed an age. Fifteen seconds passed by before he tossed another stick, this time hitting a tree only five metres away. The stick hit the tree with a soft thud. Again, Child crouched and this time a dark shape of a man stepped out from behind the tree moving towards the sound, a small torch lighting the forest floor ahead of the man.
Child lunged out of the darkness, driving his right shoulder up into the man’s stomach. He gasped, staggered and fell to the ground. Swiftly, Child reached down and picked up a large branch he had seen earlier. Lifting it high he swung it down hard to smash onto the unprotected head. The branch shattered in his hand, but it was rotten. Even so, the blow still stunned the mobster, giving Child the advantage he needed. Stomping down with his foot, Child hit his target in the throat this time. The man gagged and rolled in agony on the ground.
What Child needed now was time. With the side of his hand, he hit the rolling man with precision on the side of the neck. He slumped forward, unconscious. Kneeling, Child felt for and found a pulse. Child didn’t want to kill, but would if he had to. This realisation had formed and hardened over the last few hours, as Child knew how desperately he wanted to live.
Child stood up and scanned the area. No one was to be seen. He looked down at the unconscious man. It was the tall, bulky driver from the van. What Child wanted to do most now was to get to a phone so that he could warn Samantha. He needed to know where Snake was first. This man would tell him.
Child unzipped the man’s jacket and pulled it down over his arms, effectively pinning them to his body. He then undid and pulled his jeans down around his ankles, revealing that he wore no underpants. Taking the blue bandana that indicated the mobster’s gang affiliations, Child used it to gag his mouth. He then dragged the bulky man over across to the fence and placed him next to it.
Taking the lit flashlight, Child pointed it downwards. The fence was old, some of the wires were broken and hanging from the battens. Electric hot wires ran on the inside of the fence to control the cattle. Pulling out a loose piece of number 8 wire, he measured a two-metre length. Making a hook on one end, Child looped it over the top wire on the fence and held on tightly to the end. Child felt the sharp bang as the electric shock pulsed through his body.
Since he had taken the mobster captive, Child had wondered how he was going to force the mob member to talk, and talk quickly. Child hadn’t forgotten that Snake was out in the forest looking for him. The soft zapping sound of a slight short on the electric fence he had heard earlier had supplied with him an answer.
Child took his small knife in his right hand and reached down with his left to touch the man on the forehead with the bare wire. The mobster started, his body gave an instinctive jerk as the first surge made contact. By the third surge, he was fully awake.
He struggled, trying to free his arms. Child pressed his knife down onto his cheek, drawing blood.
‘No movement or I slice off your nose, understand?’
Child’s quiet, firm voice stilled the mobsters struggle.
‘I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to give me the answers, okay?’ he continued.
Child withdrew the blade and placed it under the man’s chin.
‘You try to yell and this goes straight up into your tongue. You’ll never have to worry about talking again. Got it?’
The mobster nodded slowly.
Child slipped the bandana off his mouth with his left hand.
‘Your name is Manu, right?’
The mobster nodded slowly, wary of Child and his position.
‘Where’s the van?’ asked Child, softly.
‘Up the road about half a K…’
‘Which direction?’
‘North.’
‘Uh uh… wrong,’ spat Child, pushing the gag back up over the man’s mouth.
Reaching out, Child picked up the number 8 wire again. Slowly, he placed it under the mobster’s nose. His head jerked sideways and his eyes opened wide as the charge hit him. Child kept it there for another pulse. Then he withdrew it.
‘The Nazis used to electrocute prisoners in the Second World War. They found it was most effective in sensitive parts of the anatomy, like the roof of the mouth, or the soles of the feet, or my favourite… on the testicles.’
Child moved the bare wire down the mobster’s solid, overweight body. The man squirmed uncomfortably beneath the wire, trying
to move the most sensitive part of his body away. Child bent down close to the scared face.
‘I want correct answers first time. I don’t give second warnings. The next time I even suspect you’re wrong, your love life is going to get the shock of its life. If that doesn’t work then I’m going to push the end of this wire up inside your ear. If the wire doesn’t kill you then the electricity will burn your brain.’
Child paused, looking down at the wide eyes and strained face of the man below.
‘Now, where is the van?’
‘Right, about half a K,’ muttered the mobster with a grimace.
‘Where are the keys?’
‘In my jacket pocket.’
Child quickly tapped the jacket pockets until he heard the faint rattle of steel. He took them out and pocketed them.
‘Where’s Snake?’
‘He was following you through the forest, I don’t know where he is now,’ the mobster replied, his voice croaky from a dry mouth.
Child quickly scanned into the forest but could see nothing.
‘Where’s the other bloke?’
‘Still where we left him, just after we just missed you on the road.’
‘And where are we?’
‘On the West coast, out from Waiuku.’
‘What road…’
‘We came down Greens Road and turned onto the one of the forestry roads, number 42.’
Child thought clearly and concisely, as he had often done in the past in stressful situations.
‘Did Snake ring through to the rest of the boys?’
‘Yeah, I did. They’ll be here shortly. Then we’ll get you, arsehole,’ growled Manu, his bravado returning. ‘You got no chance.’
‘I’ve got you now,’ Child growled back. He paused for a moment, considering his options. ‘So, who is Wolfman?’
Manu opened his mouth, then shut it. Child waved the wire across his eyes.
‘Answer me.’
‘I don’t know. Jake knows, he’s the contact. I only know that we get paid well.’
‘In drugs? Hard stuff… like cocaine, crack?’
‘Yeah, sometimes.’
‘Who’s Jake.’
‘Our Pres.’
‘Where’s your gun?’
‘I didn’t have one, just a Billy club. Snake reckoned I could manage without it.’
Child smiled but said nothing. He jerked the wire he was holding off its loop and over the live wire. Reaching down, he grabbed the mobster’s penis and testicles. Pulling them up, he wrapped a loop around them and pulled it as tight as possible. He then stood up, maintaining pressure on the wire.
‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing?’
The bravado shown by the mobster a minute ago had now gone. Child had moved so swiftly that he had no time to react.
‘Shut up,’ said Child. ‘I’d stay very still if I were you. I’ve put the wire back over the hot wire. There’s only a piece of wood protecting you from getting zapped. Any movement and that piece of wood will fall off… and that could prove rather painful.’
Child turned and jogged along the road towards the van, torch in one hand and the keys in the other. The van was parked in the middle of the track, right where Slab had said it would be.
The road was quite narrow but there seemed to be a place where the van could be turned around with a three-point turn. A cloud passed across the face of the half moon, darkening the night sky. Child took advantage of the darkness and with a careful look around climbed into the driver’s seat. He took a few seconds to locate and familiarise himself with the controls before turning ignition and starting the engine. It started first time. Child gently backed the van off the road, turned the wheel hard and pulled back up onto the road facing the right direction.
Suddenly, from about five metres ahead, a strong torch blinded him.
Unable to see past the glare, Child planted his foot hard on the accelerator and slumped sideways in the seat. The windscreen shattered with an ear-blasting explosion as it was propelled backwards by the shotgun pellets. Child was showered with small chunks of glass. He slowly counted to three before peering over the nonexistent window and out into the night. He could see nothing in front of him. With a flick of the wrist, Child turned on the headlights and was able to see the rough track in front of him. Straightening the van, he still crouched low.
Then, a blast from behind hit the van like swarm of angry hornets, peppering the back doors but not inflicting any real damage. Sawn off shotguns were lethal at short range, but quickly lost their stopping power over a longer distance.
Child drove the van like a maniac, accelerating as fast as possible over the rough track, only slowing down to complete a right angle turn onto a metal road. He turned inland. The cold wind rushed in through the empty windscreen making it harder for Child to see. He turned his head to one side and half closed his watery eyes.
He urgently needed to get some maneuverability before the rest of Snake’s biker gang arrived. Child estimated that he only had about five minutes before he could expect company.
Peering out into the darkness, Child tried to see if there was anything he could recognise. When he was being driven here in the van, he had lost all sense of direction, and he had only been to this part of the country a couple of times previously. Child saw a long straight in front of him and turned out the lights. There was enough light from the half moon and he wanted to see the bikies first when they arrived.
Two minutes later, Child thought that he might make it.
He could see lights flickering in the distance — car headlights moving across the darkness on a state highway. Then he saw the single lights. Ten, twenty single lights. Lights coming from motorbikes.
Child scanned the roadside driveway, or anywhere he could conceal the van. Then he saw a private driveway up ahead. It was the race to a cow shed. He turned up the drive and carried on until he was fifty metres away from the main road. He stopped the van in the turning bay used by the milk tanker, making sure he was hidden behind the milking shed.
Child turned the engine off and watched. Less than thirty seconds later the bikers drove past. Once they had all gone, Child decided to wait a little longer. In any group there was always someone who got left behind. A few minutes later, three more bikes came roaring past, with a throaty modified Chevy following just behind.
Child waited another couple of minutes and then got back onto the main road. He needed to find a phone and ditch this van. His mobile phone had long since disappeared. Child estimated that he had five to ten minutes to do both, and then the whole area would be swarming with bikies on the prowl, all looking for a beaten-up van with no front windscreen.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Child drove the van north, heading away from Auckland. He drove steadily and carefully, just an ordinary van returning home.
In the town of Waimauku, Child spotted a public telephone booth. Fortunately, he still had his wallet with a telecom card inside. Child waited nervously as the phone rang three times before a voice answered.
‘Hello?’ said Samantha.
‘Sam, it’s Simon,’ he said quickly.
‘Thank God, you’re alright,’ Samantha breathed, the relief evident in her voice. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m okay,’ said Child, not wanting to waste any more time. ‘Now listen to me. You may have some uninvited guests arriving at my place shortly, and I want you gone before they get there. I want you to go into my bedroom — in the bottom of the wardrobe you will find some shoes. In one of the old slippers you will find a key. Pull back the rug on the floor of the wardrobe and you will find a trapdoor, the key will unlock it. Bring everything in it.’
‘Wardrobe, slippers, key, trapdoor. I’ve got all that,’ said Samantha.
‘When you have all the items lock the door and leave the keys on the bench top. Punch these numbers into the security pad: five, nine, seven, five, seven.’
‘Five, nine, seven, five, seven. Got it,’ she rep
lied.
‘Then meet me at a small place called Waimauku, — it’s near Helensville on the map. Stop at the gas station on the main road, just south of the town centre. I’ll join you there — and Sam, please move quickly and be careful. Stop for no one.’
‘Don’t worry, Simon. I’ll see you shortly.’
Child hung up the phone. He checked his watch. He had a couple of minutes left to hide the van.
Child drove up the first side street he came to and continued on for a kilometre. He soon found what he was looking for: a hedge down the edge of a paddock. Child jumped out to open up the gate and then drove the van into the paddock, parking it close to the hedge and safely out of sight. Although the paddock appeared to the deserted, he still closed the gate behind him as he left. Child stayed close to the edge of the paddocks as he slowly made his way back to the small town.
Forty minutes later, Child was lying under a row of shrubs, only twenty metres from the garage forecourt. He had been for waiting ten minutes and in that time the two bikies next to the front pumps hadn’t moved. Child now realised that this was the obvious place to watch out for the stolen van, as it was the only place open at this time of night. Child was safe where he was. He was effectively hidden from the road and the bright lights of the forecourt only created deeper shadows around the shrubs. He had to move soon. He had to shift the two bikies before Samantha arrived.
Slowly, Child retreated away from the garage. Once he had the hedge between him and the forecourt, he darted down and around the back of the garage. Looking around in the dim light, Child saw a way to achieve his aim with a little bit of luck.
Child had had enough of running. It was time to make them pay now, if only a little bit.
Child crouched down low, peering out between the wall and a rubbish bin. He could only see one bikie and the northern entrance of the garage. It was enough. His preparations had been simple, but so was his plan.
Suddenly, Samantha drove the four-wheel drive into the service station.
