Raven

by Heather Atkinson

“Tall, long brown hair. Pretty.”

  Jeremy took the paper off him and opened it up. “Stonefort,” he read.

  “What’s that?” frowned the boy.

  “Never you mind. Do one.”

  “But she said you’d pay me.”

  “I’m not paying you. Get her to pay you.”

  “She said if you said no, I’d to shout that you’re trying to lure me into your house.”

  “Here you go,” he said, hastily stuffing a fiver into the boy’s hand before rushing inside, slamming the door shut and locking it.

  So Raven was responsible for him being released. That made sense. Obviously she’d decided it was time to kill him but she wouldn’t get the chance, he was going to kill her first. However Aidan would be there and he couldn’t take on them both. Fortunately he knew someone who would be more than happy to help.

  CHAPTER 36

  “We good to go?” Raven asked Aidan.

  He nodded. “The devices have all been planted.”

  “And it’s enough to bring the whole place down?”

  “More than enough. By the time the smoke clears, there’ll be nothing left of him to find.”

  “Perfect.”

  They were at Stonefort, on the ground floor in the huge, echoing room that used to be the dayroom.

  He took her hand. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “One Eye had a point. This place holds bad memories for you.”

  “I got over my mum’s illness years ago. I’m fine. Honestly.” She sighed when her phone began ringing in her pocket again.

  “You not going to talk to him?”

  She shook her head, rejecting the call. “I’m not being talked out of this and he will try.”

  “Only because he cares about you.”

  “This is a change. Only recently you were saying you thought he was responsible for all this.”

  “Not after I saw him with you. I’d forgotten how much he loves you. I’m glad you have him when I’m not around.”

  “Let’s not get into that now. We need to get into position. I don’t think it’ll take Jeremy long to get here.”

  “Just take it easy,” said Aidan. “Feel the shot.”

  “Please don’t start that again,” she said, keeping her eye to the sight of the rifle.

  They were on the roof of Stonefort, looking down on the driveway leading up to the front door. Not that they thought Jeremy was stupid enough to come that way but they had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the grounds. When Jeremy approached they’d know and Raven would kill him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t need any instruction.”

  “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye out behind us.”

  “I can see fine from here and there’s no one there. I haven’t even heard a car go by since we’ve been here.”

  “The local residents do their best to avoid this place.”

  “Can’t say I blame them.”

  “You getting the fear?”

  “There’s only one time in my life that I’ve ever been afraid,” he said, recalling the time she’d almost died in his arms.

  “Oh shit. Leo,” she said.

  “Who’s Leo?”

  “I was so busy thinking about Jeremy, I forgot about him. He hangs around here, scaring ghost hunters. He found the file on Jeremy’s family for me.”

  “Jesus Raven, he could be in on this.”

  “Possibly or he could be an innocent bystander about to be caught up in a shit storm. He’s just a kid, we have to do something.”

  Aidan sighed. “Where will he be?”

  “He could be anywhere, he wanders the hospital.”

  “We didn’t see anyone when we came in.”

  “He might not even be here but we have to check.”

  “And if we find him?”

  “Let’s deal with that if we need to.” She handed him the rifle. “If you see Jeremy, shoot.”

  “I thought you wanted that pleasure?”

  “It doesn’t have to be a kill shot.”

  “True,” he said, raising the rifle to his eye as she headed back down the stairs leading from the roof.

  Raven descended into the staff quarters. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the sane to live in this awful place.

  Being careful not to trip over a mattress covered in disturbing stains that had been abandoned in the corridor outside one of the rooms, she jogged towards the segregation units, coming to a sudden halt, staring uncertainly down the darkened corridor, certain she’d seen a shadow going into one of the rooms, that of a young girl. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t experienced such superstitious dread the last time she was here.

  Shrugging off the sensation, she peered into all the rooms but there was no sign of Leo or anyone else. She headed down to the ground floor, checking the room that had once been the canteen, many of the tables and chairs used by the patients still present, some of the chairs pushed back as though the occupants had just left the table for a moment and would soon be back. The dayroom was next, once again empty. A memory returned, unbidden and unwanted. She must have been ten or eleven, attempting to interest her mother in helping her make a Christmas card but Leona had been away with the fairies, staring at something in the corner of the room while she’d done her best to pretend she wasn’t freaked out by her. She’d wanted her mum home for Christmas but it had only been a couple of weeks away and in her heart she’d known it wasn’t going to happen. The prospect of another dull, drab Christmas day with her stepfather, whose idea of a good time was watching crap telly while drinking lager, had been depressing.

  “Stop it,” she told herself when she experienced some uncharacteristic sentimentality. Now was not the time to succumb to such weakness.

  Striding from the dayroom, she headed towards the rooms for the non-violent patients. The atmosphere here was much less oppressive, if a little sad. Still no sign of Leo. Perhaps he hadn’t come today? That would make life much easier.

  As she was heading to the stairs to take her back to the roof, she saw a figure at the end of the corridor standing in the main reception area, dressed in black, head bowed, staring right at her.

  “Leo,” she said, walking up to him. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Do you remember me, the strange lady?” She sighed when he failed to reply. “This isn’t the time for your dramatics. You need to get out of here, now.”

  She came to a halt when the figure threw back their hood to reveal Pitbull.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she said.

  He merely smiled when five more figures stepped out of the shadows, surrounding her. She considered reaching for the Glock hidden in the back of her jeans, forcing herself not to reach for it when she saw two of Pitbull’s men were carrying shotguns.

  “You mean how did we get in here without getting our heads blown off?” said Pitbull, looking mightily pleased with himself. “The tunnels under the hospital.”

  “There’s tunnels?”

  “Officially they were used for ferrying out the laundry,” said a grinning Pitbull. “Actually they were used for transporting all the dead bodies out to the graveyard so no one would see. Rottweiler nearly shit himself in there, didn’t you?” he said, looking at the shortest and fattest of his men. “Fearless around the living but craps his pants around the dead.”

  “I was only doing it to make you lot feel better,” muttered Rottweiler.

  Pitbull looked to another of his men, a younger man, tall and skinny with dark shadows around his eyes who was snorting white powder directly out of a bag. “Oy, Stringbean, fucking put it away will you? We’ve got work to do.”

  Stringbean’s response was a loud whoop, throwing his arms in the air. “Fucking awesome gear.”

  “Rottweiler,” sighed Pitbull. “Sort him out, will you?”

  Rottweiler punched Stringbean full in the face, who was so high he didn’t even feel it,
although he staggered back a few steps. While they were distracted, Raven attempted to reach for the Glock, freezing when a gun was jammed into her back.

  “I’ll be taking that, thank you,” said Jeremy’s voice in her ear.

  The gun was yanked from her belt and tossed to Rottweiler.

  “What the fuck do I do with this?” he said.

  “You don’t know how to handle a gun?” said Jeremy.

  “Well…no.”

  “What kind of hardman are you?”

  Rotweiller’s podgy face contorted with anger as he passed the Glock to Pitbull. “The kind who likes to use a machete you fucking faggot,” he snarled, drawing a blade from his belt.

  “Each to their own,” replied Jeremy, pressing the gun harder into Raven’s back.

  “So not only do you team up with coppers now Pitbull,” said Raven. “But you also team up with paedophiles too.”

  “He’s no paedo,” he spat back. “That was all a load of bollocks made up by you.”

  “Told you that, did he?”

  “Yes and I believed him.”

  “Because you’re a moron.”

  “Because you are a nasty bitch who will do anything to get her own way. And don’t bother trying to shock me with your little bracelet,” he said, holding up his arm. “I had the bastard thing cut off. It hurt like a fucker but I can take a huge amount of pain.”

  “Funny because you were screaming like a little girl when it was shocking you. I wonder what everyone will think when they find out you teamed up with a paedo copper?”

  “They won’t find out,” he said, aiming the gun at her. “Because you’re the only one who knows.”

  She wondered if they knew Aidan was here. They were all aware he was back, so they must assume he was.

  Raven’s phone began vibrating in her coat. Jeremy snatched it out of her pocket.

  “That your husband?” he said when a number popped up on the screen with no name.

  She shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “Let’s see,” he smiled, swiping at the screen, attempting to answer it but it denied him access.

  “Put your fucking finger on it,” he said, causing Stringbean to snigger.

  Raven activated the phone with her fingerprint, allowing Jeremy to answer the call. “Aidan,” he said. “It’s been a while. I think it’s time we had a reunion. Get your arse down to reception right now while her brains are still inside her skull. And if I see a weapon, I’ll shoot her. You trained me so you know I’ll do it.” He hung up and smiled. “Now we wait. Let’s hope Aidan does the sensible thing, for once.”

  “That’s not in his nature,” she replied.

  “All the better for me,” he said, cocking the weapon. “I’ve waited for this moment for a long time.”

  “Dad, calm down,” said Damon. “Raven and Aidan can handle a little twat called Jeremy.”

  “You don’t understand boy,” he replied, pacing the living room. “It’s not Jeremy that worries me, it’s Stonefort. That place will be her downfall, she doesn’t realise the power it holds over her.”

  “She’s over her mum.”

  “But there’s more to it, more that she has no idea about.”

  Damon put down the superhero comic he was reading to frown at him. “What are you on about Dad? Sometimes you make no bloody sense.”

  “I don’t need to make sense to you, only to myself.”

  “I was right, you’re going senile. Want me to call the home?”

  “Not just yet. I’m going to Stonefort,” he said, picking up his car keys.

  “You should stay out of it, like Raven wanted.”

  “I can’t. I have to do something,” he said, hurrying from the room.

  Damon shook his head and picked his comic back up. “Old loon.”

  One Eye set off down the street, attempting to keep his mind on the road and off his worries. Raven had no idea what was about to hit her. Many times over the years since she’d come into his life he’d considered telling her, but as she seemed to have wiped the hideous event entirely from her memory he hadn’t wanted to upset the applecart. He’d always feared the effect it would have on her. If only he’d realised it was down to Jeremy he would have taken the chance and told her but it had been a case of bad timing. Now he had to get there before the past destroyed her.

  He was so concerned with Raven that he forgot to take note of his surroundings. Consequently he was only aware of the car when it slammed into him side-on, striking the passenger side and shunting his own car towards a lamppost. One Eye wrestled with the wheel, ignoring the pain shooting through his right arm, managing to steer the car so he avoided the lamppost, the side of the bonnet striking a parked car instead with such force the car rocked from side to side, threatening to tip before righting itself.

  A stunned One Eye remained gripping the wheel, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the encroaching fog, conscious of two figures climbing out of the car that had run into him and two more getting out of the white van that had pulled up behind him.

  The road they were on was wealthy and respectable, the few residents who were in on a fine Wednesday afternoon stepping out of their front doors to see what the commotion was about, watching from their gardens as the four men converged on the battered car.

  One Eye reached under the seat and drew the extendable baton he kept there, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring more weapons. Another mistake caused by distraction and worry.

  He hauled himself around in his seat, movements slow and lethargic, ears ringing from the impact, willing his body to pull itself together. Two of the men were converging on the back of the car while the other two were approaching from the front. They were the ones who were going to reach him first.

  He kept playing possum until the first man was level with his door. He flung it open, smacking him in the face and throwing him back against a car. Before he could move, One Eye had whacked him around the side of the head with the baton, knocking him out. He flung himself around the side of the door, blocking the path of the two men from the back while ramming the end of the baton into the genitals of the one man remaining at the front of the car, sending him to his knees.

  He kicked the door into one of the men approaching from behind, knocking him sideways, swinging the baton at his head.

  “Oy, you,” yelled a voice.

  When a huge man with a black beard tore down the path of the garden opposite, steamrollering towards them, the fourth man took fright and ran off, racing down the street and disappearing around the corner.

  “You alright?” said the bearded man, running up to One Eye.

  It was only then One Eye realised there was a terrible pain in his right arm. Looking down, he saw a bone protruding through the skin.

  “I do believe my arm’s broken,” he said before slumping to the ground, letting the baton drop.

  CHAPTER 37

  Aidan leapt the last few steps, heart pounding, blood surging and the fury coursing through him. Two of Pitbull’s men took a couple of steps back. Aidan Gallagher was truly terrifying when in a rage.

  “Let her go you fucking cockroach,” Aidan snarled at Jeremy.

  “Yes, of course I will,” he replied.

  “You what?” frowned Pitbull.

  “I was making a joke,” said Jeremy.

  “Oh right,” said Pitbull. “Sorry, carry on.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, looking back at Aidan. “Did you think I was stupid enough to stroll in here through the grounds?”

  “I should have known. Insects can bury in through the smallest holes.”

  “Or in this case tunnels. It wouldn’t have been smart to walk through open ground when I know two professional snipers are waiting for me. Take them by surprise I thought, just like you taught me. I didn’t think you’d know about the tunnels, they were a well-kept secret.”

  “So how did you know about them?” said Raven.

  “You weren’t the only one to talk to Leo. He kno
ws this building like the back of his hand, he showed me. I used to come here a lot, reliving old memories. Funny things memories, they come and go. Sometimes things are so terrible we bury them deep but they’re still there, lurking, waiting to surface again and when that happens it can send you over the edge.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Raven, trying to ignore the odd creeping sensation slithering up her spine. Something about his voice suddenly became familiar. A memory lurked at the back of her mind, something distant and faded, like an old photograph, but it refused to tell her any more. She feared what her mind was hiding from her.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” He looked to Rottweiler. “Check her pockets.”

  “I’m not your fucking lackey,” he snarled back. “I work for Pitbull.”

  “Check her pockets,” said Pitbull impatiently.

  Rottweiler cautiously approached Raven, machete in one hand. “You going to give me any trouble?”

  “With a gun at my back and a knife at my front? Probably not.”

  “You know, you’ve got balls lady.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” said Jeremy. “This isn’t a garden party. Get her fucking pockets checked before she throws one of her little gadgets at us.”

  “Shut it you,” said Rottweiler, pointing at him with the machete. He slid his free hand into her left pocket. “Jesus, how deep do these things go?”

  “All the way,” she purred, her lips just inches from his face.

  “Really?” he replied with a flirtatious smile. “That’s deep.”

  “So very, very deep,” she breathed, turning his face bright red.

  He removed his hand from her pocket and slid it around her waist, sheathing the machete with his other hand. “You’re fucking hot, you know that?”

  “What are you doing?” said Jeremy when she was pulled away from him, the gun no longer pressing into her back.

  “Shut it you fucking paedo,” said Rottweiler.

  “I am not a paedo.”

  “She’s more interesting than you, so keep your gob shut.”

  When Jeremy opened his mouth to object, the four skinheads closed in on him, causing him to go quiet, Pitbull looking on with an amused smile.