Ruthless a Gripping and Gritty Crime Thriller

by Charlie Gallagher

  Rhiannon pushed the button back in on the shifter, she pushed it forward and grabbed the wheel. The car slid backwards this time and she turned the wheel hard. She yelped as it struck another parked car behind her, this time at an angle. She snatched again at the shifter and the car lurched forward. She felt another blow to her right side, which knocked her sideways, her vision suddenly black. She could hear the door opening now, but all sounds were getting quieter. The sudden brightness of the interior light punctured her mind, snapping her back to awareness. She heard someone yell out in pain. She looked to her right and her door slammed back shut. She could hear a crunching sound; the car was still moving forward at an angle, but shuddering and rocking as it went. It moved out of the parking space, the driver’s door scraping firmly against the car in front. She sat back up, trying to shake the last of the grogginess and looked over her shoulder. Aaron was moving, he was coming up to the passenger door. Her headlights lit up the road ahead. She stepped on the accelerator, she had to push her leg right out and lift her buttocks to reach it. The car lurched forward again — quicker this time. She saw Aaron jump back away from the car. She was now clear of the line of parked cars and she straightened up in the road, pointing down towards the junction. She took her foot back off the accelerator but the car still rolled onwards. The headlights picked out a figure limping out from between more parked cars further up the road. It was Danny. He stopped in the middle of the road. He was bleeding from a head wound and holding his shoulder as if it was damaged. He held his left arm up, his palm towards her.

  ‘Rhiannon!’ he shouted. His voice was still high pitched and scared. It was clear through the broken window. ‘You need to stop. Just give him back the stuff and you can go, I swear. You can go, okay?’

  Rhiannon saw movement by the passenger door, she heard the handle rattle again. Aaron was tugging at it. It was clear that he had no patience. And no intention of letting her go.

  ‘Just stop the car!’ Danny shouted. ‘Stop the car and give him back the stuff. Then you can go, he just wants his stuff!’ He forced a smile; it looked ridiculous covered in blood and as he held one eye closed. Aaron was moving again. He walked along the back of the car and was coming for her open window.

  That loveliness that you’ve got . . . you have to learn to switch that off. You need to be ruthless when it’s called for. William’s words cut through the noise and confusion. Suddenly they were the only things that were clear. This was what he meant — exactly this.

  Rhiannon stood on the accelerator. She still had to stretch for it — the seat was too far back. The car surged forward. From her position, she could just about see Danny’s expression change from a reassuring smile to panic before she shut her eyes firmly. She felt and heard the thud at the same time. A split second later came a second thud; it was louder and it sounded closer. The car kept moving forward and she opened her eyes just as the junction rushed towards her. She moved to the brake, the wheels locked up with a sudden squeal and the car came to a stop. Rhiannon let out her breath. The windscreen had a circular dip and a spiderweb effect in the glass, it started from the top left and stretched to reach across in front of her. The circular part had hints of red and a clump of hair in its centre. In her mirror she could see a figure running towards the car up the middle of the road. She pulled the steering wheel right and pushed the accelerator again to move out of the junction and away. She picked up speed and the figure behind fell away.

  Rhiannon burst into tears. Her body sagged where it had been stiff with fear. She suddenly felt something jabbing her in the back. She reached for it. It was the hammer Aaron had used; it had fallen behind her on the seat. She threw it into the footwell on the passenger side. She had to lean forward to see out through the shattered windscreen. She needed to pick out features, road signs — anything so she might know where she was, so she could tell how to get back to William. That was her only chance now. She needed to get back to him. He could make all of this right.

  Chapter 27

  The BMW bounced up the kerb. It struck harder than Rhiannon had expected and she yelped as the vibration jarred through her shoulder. She had found an area of the Leas where there was a big enough gap between the parked cars to cut through. She had been forced to drive past where she knew William was. She drove the car across the neat grass and turned hard left when the wheels met with the tarmac path. It was wide enough for the car, but she kept it slow; the headlights were dull compared with how she remembered them and she guessed she had damaged one getting away. She tried not to think too much about what might have struck the light, despite the clump of dark hair caught up in the cracked windscreen that shuffled in the wind.

  She slowed even further as she got to roughly where she thought the gate was. Sure enough it came up on the right side. She turned hard left and moved out onto the grass. She then turned the car around so that she was facing directly towards the gate. She allowed the car to roll forward slowly until it was just a few feet away. She stepped on the brake and the car jolted to a halt.

  Rhiannon let the car roll forward under its own steam. It bumped the gate at a slight angle — the gate flexed but held firm. She moved the shift to reverse and backed up until she was a bit further away. She shifted into drive and the car rolled forward; she squeezed the accelerator this time and the impact was harder than she expected. She had been leaning forward to get a clear view and the jolt pushed the steering wheel hard into her chest — her shoulder stung with pain. Once the car broke through the gate, the engine still drove the rear wheels and pushed the BMW forward towards the wooden fence on the other side. Rhiannon knew that a sharp drop awaited her there.

  She moved her foot to the brake but was too late; the front of the car rode up the small bank and crashed into the fence. The boards splintered and pushed up over the bonnet as the car moved forward and lurched suddenly downwards. When the brakes finally caught, Rhiannon’s head was once again thrown forwards. Her eyes slammed shut and she gritted her teeth. When she opened them she was looking down through a tree canopy. The trunk that sprouted it was a long way below and dug into the steep hill. The car groaned, it slipped forward a little, maybe just an inch, but it was enough to make Rhiannon jump. She yanked the handbrake as hard as she could and moved the shifter to reverse. She felt the car shudder under her as it engaged the gear and slipped another inch further forwards. She held her breath and let her foot off the brake. She held the handbrake in her left hand, her palms were soaked, partly from the tension and partly from the pain in her shoulder. She pushed in the button on the end of the handbrake then plunged the lever down.

  The BMW jerked again. She could feel the rear wheels scrabbling and the car slipped sideways, slipping on the damp grass — then she felt a slide forwards as the wheels continued to spin. Suddenly the car shook and she felt a thud from the rear. The tyres gripped and the BMW rolled backwards. The view through the front window was suddenly out to sea, rather than a sharp drop. As she stopped the car across the path, Rhiannon suddenly erupted in tears. With some effort, she pushed open the driver’s door. It had been creased in the earlier impact and it creaked as it opened. She sucked in the fresh air that was laden with the scent of the sea and took a second to calm herself.

  Then she climbed out of the car and made for the path. The gate hung open; the chain had snapped. She could see where the wooden fence had broken, too — as well as the steep drop on the other side. She moved down the path quickly, pulling her phone from her pocket and activating the torch. William was still there, sitting upright where she had left him.

  ‘William! I came back. I got a car.’ There was no response. ‘William?’ Still nothing. She got to him. His head was turned away from her. She moved in closer, lit his face with the torch. She could see immediately that he was a different colour, his lips a dark blue, his face washed out, waxy, his eyes half open and unmoving. She touched the arm that lay across his stomach. It felt cold. She lifted it to try and feel his wrist for a pulse.
His shirt came with it, stuck to him with dried blood. She dropped his hand and stumbled back. There was no need for her to check his pulse, no need for her to check anything. William was dead. She stood up and took one step back, her mind fuzzy again. She knew there was a way out of all of this, some way, somehow — she just couldn’t focus on it now. She’d had it all worked out before; she thought she knew what she was doing. But William was dead. Danny, too, perhaps. She had run him down in a stolen car full of drugs and she didn’t dare contemplate what might happen if Aaron caught up with her. Her mind cleared a little and she was back to thinking straight. Nothing much had changed. She could still pull this off. There was still a way out.

  Rhiannon ran back to the car. The engine was still running. She pulled at the rear door and left it open as wide as it would go. She ran back to William and pulled him by the shoulders so he was leaning forward, his sad eyes turned down to the floor. She stepped in behind him, and reached down to take him in a firm grip under his arms. She had forgotten about her shoulder and it immediately shot through with pain. Rhiannon swore before looking around, desperate for anything that might help her. There was nothing. She took the same grip again and she heaved. The pain was excruciating but William’s body shifted slightly. She heaved again. He’d turned so that he was facing down the path at least. Rhiannon took a deep breath. She tried to ignore the pain, braced herself and heaved again. William didn’t move.

  ‘Shit!’ She had come all this way and now she was going to be beaten because she was too weak. She needed William in that car. Everything depended on it. She was back to looking around. Her eyes rested on where William had been sitting originally, down at the end of the path. She could see empty cider bottles, she could see his sleeping bag and she could see his cardboard box.

  The cardboard box.

  Rhiannon remembered shifting some furniture for her Aunty Mel. They hadn’t been able to manage it and they had mocked one another’s weakness before finally falling down laughing. Mel had had the idea of using cardboard. Rhiannon ran down the path and grabbed William’s box. It was still dry — it had to be strong enough. She ran back to William. Her shoulder ached as she lifted his torso to put him in a sitting position. He wouldn’t stay there and she had to lean him against her shoulder as she squatted down, positioning the box against him. She stood up and once again hooked him under the arms. She heaved, and he budged an inch backwards. She lifted him again, another inch onto the cardboard. Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks, but he had moved far enough. She reached back down and took a firm hold of the cardboard. She still had to support his head and she talked to him — her way of forgetting that she was moving a dead body.

  ‘Come on, William. I would really appreciate you helping me out right now. There’s a bottle of rum in it for you!’ She tugged at the cardboard. It slid a few inches over the stone path and William came with it. He was still heavy and cumbersome, but he was moving.

  ‘That’s it. Good man. Is it because of what I said about the rum?’ Rhiannon inched to the end of the path, where it met back up with the Leas. She was breathing heavily, near to exhaustion. She laid him down gently and moved back to the car. She positioned the back door as close to him as she could before grabbing William again under the arms. She knew this would be her last big effort. She braced herself, waited for the adrenalin to flood her veins, to mask the pain and to give her a last push. She screamed as she lifted, but she managed to get William sitting on the sill of the open door. She crawled back into the car. She took a deep breath and heaved again. William flopped awkwardly onto the back seat. Rhiannon folded in his limbs and leaned on the door to shut it. She stepped back and away, the realisation of having moved a dead body into a car hitting her all of a sudden. She had been able to put it out of her mind up to this point. She took a moment, her hand at her mouth, staring through the window. She could see him lying on his back, his opaque eyes towards the car’s roof, his mouth open.

  She needed to focus again. Her right hand plunged into her pocket. She pulled out her phone and activated the torch. She moved back to the broken gate, swinging the light around the base of the hedges and shrubs on the other side of the fence. It wasn’t long before she saw an ugly blade reflecting the torchlight. It had to be the knife Danny had begged her to retrieve. It was some way in but she might be able to reach it. She put her phone back in her pocket and tore a strip off the cardboard box. She moved back to the fence; she could still see the outline of the knife. She gripped the cardboard and pushed her right hand through the gap in the iron posts. She had to turn her head a little to reach it. She used the cardboard like a grabber, folded over in her hand but it was slippery and the knife kept falling out. She managed to get it closer at least, close enough to reposition a little and to get a better grip on it. She pulled it back towards the fence and manoeuvred it through the posts. She lifted the boot of the BMW and, still gripping it through the cardboard, she threw it in. She slammed the boot back shut without even seeing where it landed. She moved round to the driver’s seat and got in. She took a moment, a deep breath. She was nearly there; she just had to hold herself together for a few more minutes.

  She knew Langthorne Police Station. Or at least she knew where it was. They had driven past it a couple of times when Rosh had taken them out as a foursome. It was on a main road through the town, in the more affluent west end. It was a long, wide road. She pulled into it and she could see the Police sign lit up in blue in the distance. She had seen a large set of gates just beyond that sign on the nearside. This must be where the police officers came out in their cars when they were responding to calls. The station was quiet now. The car’s digital display was showing the time: just before 9 p.m. She didn’t think it would be long before she saw some sort of movement. There were two gates: the one she had seen by the side of the road that led into a car park and then another, more solid-looking gate, that was further back and looked like the true perimeter of the police station. The second gate was part of a far higher fence and the cars parked on the other side had reflective police markings on them. She had parked across the first gate when she noticed sudden activity at the other. The gates slid back, an orange light spinning on the top, and the headlights of a vehicle flickered as the gates moved across it.

  She knew she needed to act fast.

  Rhiannon stepped out of the BMW. She pulled open the back door and grabbed William, again under the shoulders. She ignored the pain that was a constant now and yanked backwards. The leather seats gave him up easily and she was able to bundle William out of the car and onto the tarmac. He lay in the middle of the pavement near the entrance, his left leg hanging over the dropped curb. They couldn’t miss him.

  ‘Sorry, William,’ she sniffed. ‘This is me being ruthless.’

  The light was suddenly brighter; the second gate was open. A police car moved through and came towards her. She ran to the driver’s seat and moved away. The external gate lifted. She ducked her head — they were close enough that they might see her now. She checked her mirrors — the police car stayed still. Rhiannon didn’t think they could get round William’s body, even if they wanted to, but she had banked on them not moving, on them checking on the person lying in the road first.

  Rhiannon followed the route Rosh had taken before, but in reverse. It took ten minutes to get to just a couple of streets over from William’s house. She pulled into where a large church loomed on her right. She moved around the back. There was parking marked up for a Reverend Lucas and a few other names. It would do. She pulled the BMW across untidily and stepped out. She kept the door open and inspected the side of the driver’s seat. There were three buttons and two of them were marked: one with the number ‘one,’ the other with the number ‘two.’ She remembered what Danny had said to her: The boss is programmed in to the ‘Number One’ button. You just push that when you’re done and he’ll never know you were in his seat! It goes right back to how he sits. She pressed the button. Immediately it slid back,
the electric motor whirred and she stepped away. It slunk lower in the car, the backrest moved to a shallower angle too. Then it stopped.

  Rhiannon slammed the driver’s door shut and pulled open the boot. The bags were still there. There was a small green first aid kit that was also loose in the back. She picked it up and unzipped it. There were a few bandages, a pair of scissors — the usual stuff. There was also a folded-up rain jacket in a square pouch, an emergency measure for anyone lying in the road in the rain, she guessed. Whatever, it would suit her needs. She opened it up and tied off the sleeves. She laid it out flat on the floor, then stuffed the sleeves with wads of money from Aaron’s bag — as many as would fit. She bundled it all up. She scooped up her own bag and threw it on her shoulder. Once again it tugged at the tape over her wound. She slammed the boot shut and walked to the front passenger side. She pulled one of her shoes off and threw it into the footwell. It came to a stop lying over the hammer.