by Jackson Lear
“Would you let me finish?” Amanda asked.
Josh bit onto his surprise and gave Amanda a nod to proceed.
“Claire took Ian home from school. He spilled his guts about what he and his friends have been up to all summer. He and his other two friends ... help me out, what are their names?”
“Daniel and Warrick,” said Anthony, calling out from across the room.
“Those three were caught snooping around James McIntyre’s garden and he threatened to kill them if they didn’t bring back beer, whiskey, stolen bras and panties, even nude videos of sisters, mothers, friends of parents, that kind of thing.”
“He made them do this?”
“That’s what Ian said,” said Amanda. “I heard it from Anthony, who heard it from Claire. That’s not the worst of it. James McIntyre kidnapped Zofia Bukowski, took her to an empty house ...”
Josh’s stomach start to turn.
“Had the three boys over ...”
Now his stomach turned in the other direction. The worst he had expected was ‘James raped Zofia’, but now an unthinkable horror was about to leave Amanda’s lips.
“Pointed a gun at them and forced them all to rape Zofia. They did and he filmed it.”
Josh’s stomach nearly pulled itself inside out as the image flooded his mind.
Anthony turned to Josh with a look of unrivalled clarity. “I need one person to have my back and the other as an alibi.”
“Easy,” said Josh, raising his hands up defensively.
“No, fuck easy,” spat Anthony. “That motherfucker has ruined my nephew’s life for his own twisted pleasure. Claire is beside herself in fright and that asshole just tried to kill Warrick in front of everyone in his class. Ian is not going to be next. Come on. We’re going to find him.”
“I need you to step aside from this and think rationally.”
“Fuck you. In six years that could easily have been Tom.”
“Not easily,” said Josh. “Tom’s better than that.”
“Not if there’s a gun pointing at him!”
Josh stepped forward with his hands still raised. “Okay, I understand there was a gun involved. But Ian is thirteen, he’s probably scared out of his mind, and are we sure this is true?”
Anthony glared back at Josh. “He had James’ description down to the letter. Even the limp.”
“Okay. And do the police know?”
“Claire is contacting a lawyer as we speak. Who’s going to be my alibi? I’d prefer it to be Amanda because, Josh, after all the shit you’ve put me through in the last couple of months, you’re going to help me kill James McIntyre and make sure no one ever finds him. Grab a shovel.”
“I will pull his eyes out and shove them down his throat,” growled Anthony. “If he survives that then I’ll beat his teeth out of his jaw until he chokes on them.”
Amanda held a hand against her mouth as she stifled a yawn. It was 2 a.m. and so far Anthony’s masterful plan of going on a revenge-fuelled rampage had resulted in the threesome driving around Luxford in Josh’s car while hoping to stumble upon James McIntyre as he roamed the streets. Josh kept the car moving fast enough to not provoke any more of Anthony’s accusations that he was stalling.
“What happens if the police find him?”
“When,” said Josh. “He did try to kill Warrick, so ... when the police find him.”
“They can smash him in the face,” said Anthony. “Right between the eyes. No, in the legs. Knock out his other knee for good measure. No, even better, they can hit him in the stomach and let him bleed to death. He’ll be in agony for days.”
Josh glanced at the petrol gauge. Four hours of cruising around Luxford had eaten through two weeks of usual driving. Amanda leaned forward and gently squeezed Anthony’s arm.
Anthony sprung forward and looked out every window. “What? Is it him?”
“No, I was just trying to comfort you,” said Amanda.
“Why? I’m fine.”
“Because you’re not fine and you’re scaring the shit out of me.”
“Then you can get the fuck out and go back home,” said Anthony.
Amanda fell back against her seat and slid behind Josh. From there she stared out at the passing darkness.
Josh sighed, slowed the car, came to a halt, and put it in park.
Anthony quickly unbuckled the seat belt. “What did you see?”
Josh turned to his oldest friend and wished he had locked all of the doors before heading off, but it was too late for that. “You just told Amanda, of all people, to get the fuck out and go back home. Not some half-wit gold digging whore but your Amanda. The one we’ve had plenty of conversations about.”
Amanda turned her attention back to the front seat. She didn’t shift from her glare at Anthony, but at least she now interested in where Josh was going with this.
So look, we’ve all done stupid things in our lives. Very stupid things. Life endangering things. This is one of them. You’ve never been in a fight.” Josh quickly held up his hand. “That time with David doesn’t count. You two both walked away from that without a single bruise. I’m talking about a fight where you are going to be injured. Even if you win, you’re going to take a beating. You might lose some teeth. You might lose your fucking life. He might have a hammer or a bat or whatever he used to beat up Warrick today. He’s proven himself capable of fucking people up and trying to kill them. All you have is determination. Based on today, he’s going to win and the three of us don’t stand a chance.
Anthony growled in disgust. “I thought you had my back.”
“I do and I’ll be there to take half of the hits. I’ll tackle him to the ground and keep punching him until he loses consciousness. I might lose some teeth as well. But I don’t have kids to worry about. If you find him tonight, and lose, Tom and Sarah are never going to forgive you. If you do win, and you go to prison for murdering this arsehole, Tom and Sarah are never going to forgive you. So let’s have some perspective: you’re going to lose tonight.”
Anthony stared back at Josh as a venomous glare overpowered him. Josh had called into question Anthony’s untested manhood, making him out to be a coward, when nothing could be further than the truth. His friend took on a sickly tinge under the morning streetlight, one that highlight the grey hairs and wrinkles that he was desperate to keep covered.
Amanda squeezed Anthony’s shoulder again. “You mean a lot to so many people,” said Amanda.
Anthony shook his head. “You’re trying to ruin my marriage, so what the hell do you care about my wellbeing?”
“Because I love you, you shit!”
“And you love her,” said Josh. “You’ve told me more than once, and every single time you were holding onto it as though it was your biggest secret and you were afraid that by confessing it would rip our friendship apart.”
“It’s complicated,” Anthony said, through gritted teeth.
“Don’t go out to look for James,” said Amanda. “Not now, not ever. Let the police handle it.”
“After what he’s done to my family?”
“They’ll find him. He’s not going to survive for long on his own and they’ll catch him.”
“They’ll catch him after he’s killed Ian! And when they drag him away he’ll just scream to the world what he got away with. He needs to die before he tells anyone else. He’s already smashed Warrick’s head in with a hammer. Right now he is actively looking for Ian and you’re asking me to let that happen?”
“No and don’t put words in my mouth like that,” said Amanda.
“Then let me find him,” said Anthony.
The car fell quiet, broken only when Josh drummed his fingers on the steeling wheel and drew in a deep sigh. “Okay. Here goes. I have a secret I have not told a single person. No one. And I was hoping to never have to tell anyone and take this one to the grave. When I was twenty six and dating Kim, we spent a few nights in her cousin’s place in Genoa. Her cousin is gay and was dating a buff g
ym instructor at the time and he had a biiiig schlong. A few nights into it, he made a move on me and I let it happen. So. Yeah. Apparently I was the male version of a starfish. So.”
Amanda pulled a face at Josh and tried to shake the image out of her mind. “Josh ...’
“Come on Amanda,” Josh said. “I’m trying to get something off my chest.” He hoped like hell that Amanda could read his mind and figure out that he was trying to distract Anthony long enough for his psychotic mood to ease. With the slightest of nods towards a, ‘come on, work with me here,’ she seemed to get the message.
“Was it any good?” Amanda asked.
“It was mostly him using me as a sex toy, so not really. Not even Kim knew about it. I have to say, it wasn’t easy walking for a few days after that. Big schlong and all. So, now that I finally have that off my chest, if anyone else would like to help me out with a secret or two that they’ve been holding onto for too long, I’d really appreciate that.”
“I’m good,” said Amanda.
“Me too,” said Anthony.
Josh sniffed and stared out the window. “Thought as much. Even a secret ‘I’ve always loved you, Josh,’ would be nice to hear right about now.”
No one seemed to be in the mood to acquiesce Josh’s request, so he started the car again and drove them away from Strachen Road before Anthony could voice his opinion. The ride back was utterly silent, until Josh dropped them back at Amanda’s place.
“Will you guys be okay?” Josh asked.
“We’ll manage,” said Amanda.
Josh then mouthed to Amanda: ‘Do you need me to stay?’
Amanda glanced over at the silent but less enraged Anthony, and she gently shook her head.
Josh nodded and gave them both a weak smile, then drove off. With any luck Anthony would do the right thing and just go home. Perhaps with supreme luck Amanda would be able to keep him there for the night.
Dear Diary, Josh thought. Today I stopped my friend from getting himself killed. What did you do today?
71
Josh
It wasn’t easy moving through the rubble of a burnt-out house in minimal light, but Josh did the best he could. Pockets of debris still sizzled with heat, and the noxious fumes of polyester from the furniture clawed at the lining of Josh’s lungs. Across his face he wore a ski mask that had been sitting in a drawer for ten years. In one hand was a torch. In the other, a wooden katana he’d had since he was nineteen.
Every step crunched under his weight, every crunch was met with a jolt in his chest as though the floor was about to collapse into some labyrinthine basement. Worse still was the absolute certainty that he wasn’t alone in James McIntyre’s house.
It was three in the morning. He would have to ditch the trainers as soon as he got home in case the police were able to track him. Judging by the sleek footprints in some of the soot he wasn’t the first trespasser to wander through. They looked to be the size of a young teenager’s shoes. He followed them through the house, across every crunch on the floor and around every doorway with his wooden sword gripped tightly in his fist.
Only one car drove past. Josh shoved the torch against his stomach, briefly blinding himself and then illuminating his black hoodie. The light was snuffed out and the car sailed by, but the torch remained against his gut for another minute until his breathing could return to something close to normal.
It looked as though the other footprints simply wandered around. They weren’t looting, they weren’t rummaging. They made it to the second step on the staircase before turning back. Josh forced himself to focus on the landing upstairs.
Someone was up there. He could feel it. They would have heard him tiptoeing through the house below. They would have held their breath, hoping that Josh would leave on his own accord.
If it was James then he might have been able to find his gun and some bullets. A bedroom was as good a place as any to hide such an item and there certainly wasn’t a bedroom downstairs.
The house groaned under its lack of stability. Most of the walls were still moist with water. The evening air had created a layer of condensation that lined the blackened wallpaper. Even so, the overwhelming smell of smoke punched through Josh’s nose and tickled his gag reflex. He could even taste it in his spit.
He turned away from the staircase. There was no point going up there until he had searched the downstairs first. With one eye fixed on the top of the stairs Josh pulled away, out of firing line, until he was able to edge his way back to the kitchen at the far end of the house.
The cupboards were all closed. He inspected several of the stub-like handles. None appeared to have been opened since the fire. He tried the top-most cupboard first, the one that stood over the fridge. As he rose himself onto his toes he shone the torch inside, looking for Zofia’s camera.
He tried the bottom-most cupboards next, then the ones at waist height. He pried the oven door open and found that it had drippings of fat from ribs and bacon throughout.
There was definitely someone upstairs. Even though they didn’t make a single sound Josh knew that he wasn’t alone in there. He crept away from the kitchen and ventured into the lounge. There was an old free-standing cupboard against one wall, stacked with melted film cases and loose change. Between the TV and the cupboard was a chest with heavy duty metal fittings to protect its corners, giving it a medieval feel and making it weigh a tonne. Josh cast his attention back towards the staircase to double check that no one was sneaking up on him. Then, with the edge of his sleeve, he popped the catches to the small wooden box.
Inside was a camera bag, home to a Canon DSLR with a 28mm Zeiss lens. It was priced well beyond anything that James McIntyre would be willing to spend. Josh lowered his sword, held the torch in his mouth, and pulled his sleeves down to cover both hands. With a few fumbles and a pulse that nearly exploded through his ribcage, he found the catch that opened up the memory card. He slid it out, turned it over, and placed the camera back into the bag. The memory card was bigger and heavier than he expected. It certainly wouldn’t pop into a computer without a specialised cable. Josh checked the bag and poked around, looking for anything that would hook this up to a laptop. There didn’t appear to be anything that would help, only a spare battery and another lens. If he was supremely lucky, James hadn’t figured out how to get the photos onto his computer. If that was true then just about all the evidence of Ian, Daniel, and Warrick having met Zofia was held in Josh’s hand.
But was it worth the risk? Maybe the bag had contained the cable and James simply left it upstairs, next to his laptop. Or had he gone out and bought one? The only way to be certain was to find James’ computer.
With a quick tap against his pocket to make sure the memory card was safe and secure, he rose back to his feet.
72
Amanda
Her run that morning was mostly an excuse to see how close she could get to James McIntyre’s burnt-out house before having to turn back. Parked in front was a police cruiser with a news van just behind. Amanda had to dodge out of the way of a careless driver who was more interested in what was happening on the side of the road than the woman jogging on the pavement.
“Asshole,” muttered Amanda. She looked towards the police car to see if the officer was in sight, but no one seemed to be inside. No doubt they were picking over the debris from the house or checking the nearby homes to see if McIntyre was hiding nearby. When Amanda was nearly run over a second time she decided it was best to head back to Portal Close.
She flipped the kettle on, pulled off her clinging tank top, and shivered against the blast of cold against her skin. Something shifted in the corner of her eye, coming from the backyard.
Ten minutes later she had everything she owned shoved into two suitcases and a plastic shopping bag. A taxi dropped her off in front of Josh’s house.
There’s a spare key around the back, hiding under the badger, Josh said via a text message.
She dragged all of her worldly p
ossessions inside, closed the blinds on every window, and stared at the uniquely empty house. It was just as chilling now standing in someone else’s home as when she was a child, having permission but still feeling out of bounds.
She sat herself on the sofa, got the wifi password from Josh, and hoped like hell he would get home before Hannah.
Seven hours later came the squeak of car brakes came from the driveway, followed by a near deafening thump from the car door. Amanda glanced up from her laptop just as the key slid into the lock. The door swung open, allowing Amanda to breathe with relief for the first time all day. “You’re home!”
It looked like Josh had been guzzling coffee non-stop all day. He closed the door and darted forward, his eyes still shrieking from running a red light. “I tried to take a half day and they said no. Are you okay?”
“No. I’ve been shitting myself for hours now.” She looked Josh up and down. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. You know, nearly … no, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.”
“I’m not scared, just annoyed with the people I work with.” He drew in a sniff before casting his eyes over the lounge, then over the kitchen. “Everything seems a lot cleaner than when I left this morning.”
“I had time to kill, I was bored, and I wanted to say thank you for letting me stay somewhere safe.”
Josh finally allowed himself to ease back on the throttle. “Hey, no problem. Mi casa es tu casa.” His attention landed on the sofa where Amanda had been sitting. Leaning against the wall was a long, curved, wooden – “So you found the ninja sword.”
“Yep.”
“Have you ever hit someone before?”
“Nothing more than a slap,” said Amanda. “Is Hannah going to be okay with this?”
“Probably not, but since she’s moving out tomorrow then she’s not going to have much say in it.”
Amanda held her breath at the epically bad timing. “If it’s too much I can always crash at my mum’s place.”
