The Hunted

by KERRY BARNES

  With that, Dez bellowed back, ‘Ya fucking son won’t hand it over. He has two fucking minutes, or I will cut the fucking gear out of him!’

  What Ricky was unaware of was that Dez’s source of drugs had dried up. And so the only hope of a good snort was the parcel being sent in by Jackie. Dez was so addicted that he couldn’t go a day without cocaine.

  * * *

  Officer Harris led Mike to the top of the stairs, followed by Willie. The officer’s job was to show him to his cell and watch him walk in, but he had a load of paperwork to do. ‘Ritz, you can take Regan to the cell. It’s the last door on the right.’

  Willie was overjoyed: Mike would be on his landing, four doors along.

  Mike nodded. The last cell along the wing was ideal; he could hear anyone coming down the corridor. Just as Willie looked ahead, he noticed Tatum and Tyrone talking to Dez through the man’s cell door.

  ‘Aw, fuck me, Mikey, you’re only next to Dez Weller.’

  Mike, for a moment, went rigid. He then turned to face Willie. ‘That cunt’s in this nick, is he?’

  Willie nodded, but by the look on Mike’s face, he regretted telling him. All the good humour and banter had suddenly disappeared. It was replaced with a look of pure unadulterated anger.

  ‘Listen, Mikey, he’s built himself an army. Bide ya time, mate. Don’t go in blind. You know what a sly cunt he is.’

  Mike wasn’t listening, his breathing now heavy as he flared his nostrils to exhale.

  Willie knew full well that the man Mike detested most was Dez. After the vicious fight they’d had years ago, Dez was left with a scar down his face. Whilst Mike was put into solitary confinement, Dez burned all but one of his enemy’s son’s photos. It was an unforgivable act. Willie assumed that after three years, Mike would have calmed down and would perhaps just give Dez a beating, but the expression on his face showed that Dez was a dead man.

  ‘Listen, Mikey. Don’t do anything. Not just yet, mate.’

  Coming from Willie, this seemed quite out of character. He was the reckless one, not Mike, but times had changed.

  Mike shoved the plastic bag in Willie’s chest. ‘’Ere, hold this.’

  Tatum turned and gasped, holding his breath. Stomping towards him was a huge man, who not only looked like a big silver gorilla from the zoo, but he appeared as though he’d just escaped from one.

  Willie hurried after Mike, seeing that Tatum and Tyrone were still nervously hovering around.

  He grabbed Mike’s arm. ‘Wait, Mikey. Something’s going on.’ Suddenly, the worry of Mike letting rip and getting shipped back out had switched to concern for the kid.

  ‘Who’s in there?’ demanded Willie.

  Tatum just stared in awe at Mike.

  Before Tyrone could sneak away, Mike grabbed him. ‘You two were asked a question!’ came the deep gravelly voice. Tyrone shook all over, never having felt the hands of a real man, who could snap him in half as if he were a piece of kindling.

  Willie had Tatum by the hair and was pulling his face an inch from his own. ‘I said, who’s in there?’

  Tatum didn’t know who he was more afraid of – Dez or Willie. He remained quiet, but Mike, sensing Willie’s concern, decided to take over. He backhanded Tatum across the face, and although it wasn’t a punch, more of a slap, Tatum still felt his jaw cracking.

  ‘Willie asked who’s behind the door. Now, if ya don’t fucking tell me, I’ll open it with your face!’

  That threat was a given and Tatum looked at Willie in terror. ‘Er … Richard.’

  With that response, Willie punched Tatum hard in the ribs. He doubled over and collapsed on the floor.

  Mike didn’t care who this Richard was; all he wanted to do was to get in that cell and rip Dez’s head off.

  Willie banged on the door. ‘You’d better let the boy out, or I swear to God, they’ll need fucking tweezers to piece you back together, ya bastard!’

  There was silence.

  Inside the cell, Dez glared at Ricky, trying to plan his next move. All he could think was that he had something they wanted, and he would barter it because, right now, Mike Regan was somewhere inside the prison, and one of his best buddies, Willie Ritz, was outside that door creating a scene.

  Little did he know that Mike was also outside and getting angrier by the second. Like the Incredible Hulk, his body was visibly inflating. It was all the adrenaline surging through his veins. He was pumping himself up ready to smash the door down.

  Mike studied the quivering Tatum and the even more terrified Tyrone for a moment before saying, ‘Do one!’ The two gypsies didn’t need telling twice: they hurried away like two frightened rats.

  ‘Who’s Richard?’ asked Mike, now very concerned by the incensed look on Willie’s face.

  ‘He’s just a kid, an eighteen-year-old that can’t speak. Dez has tried to buy the poor fucker.’

  Mike frowned. ‘Why have you got involved?’

  Willie was now in one of his insane moods. ‘’Cos he’s a good kid and Dez is a cunt.’

  Those were good enough reasons, as far as Mike was concerned.

  * * *

  Ricky felt relief that Willie was outside, and although he was trapped, with Dez pacing the floor, he knew that help would be on its way. He couldn’t figure out how they would open the door, though. He would have to do it, somehow. Whilst Dez continued to pace and Ricky clocked the panic setting in, he focused on the door, his only means of escape.

  Willie bellowed again. ‘Let him out. If you’ve touched that boy, I swear to God …’

  Suddenly, Dez jumped up onto the bed and reached for the ceiling light where he kept his knife. He tugged away at the cover. In that moment of distraction, Ricky threw himself off the bed and pulled the rubber from the floor. But Dez now had a knife in his hand, and a moment later he was holding the blade to Ricky’s throat.

  The door burst open. In rushed Willie, with Mike’s giant figure taking up the whole doorway. Dez held Ricky against a metal cabinet. ‘Touch me, and he gets it.’

  Ricky was wide-eyed and motionless as he looked at Willie, silently pleading. Then his eyes flicked to the man in the doorway.

  It was to be a life-changing moment he would always remember, but it was such a warm feeling, as if he was being wrapped in a soft duvet. Those powerful grey eyes and that broad chest, they were so familiar. He even recognized the scar on the back of the man’s hands, the shape of his fingernails, and the small mole on his temple. But it wasn’t the physical appearance that he felt a connection with, it was the soothing sensation, along with the intense feeling of safety that he projected.

  ‘Fucking let that kid go!’ growled the big man.

  Ricky recognized that voice too. As deep and harsh as it was, it was like a harmonious lullaby.

  Dez dug the knife deeper. ‘Get away or I’ll slice his throat.’

  As if Ricky had woken up from a bad dream, he didn’t feel scared one bit. On the contrary, he felt protected. How mad was that? Being held up with a weapon to his neck, knowing one false move could kill him, he remained transfixed on the big man. It was as if there was an invisible shield around him.

  Mike was seething. He wanted so much to break Dez’s neck, but he knew if he grabbed him, Dez was reckless enough to kill the kid. Mike was so intent on stopping Willie from making a silly mistake, he hadn’t noticed the boy’s face.

  ‘All right, what d’ya want, Dez?’ asked Willie through clenched teeth.

  Dez turned to them. ‘You keep that animal away from me and you can have the boy.’

  Mike grinned. He had no intentions of letting Dez off so lightly. That was until his eyes met Ricky’s, and he blinked. Was he going mad? He thought of the photos of his beautiful son that had been cruelly destroyed and burned by Dez, and the images washed through his mind like an old black-and-white film. All the memories he’d had of his boy – they’d gone. Until now. Was he seeing the eyes of his own son, or were the lost images embedded in his brain? The ph
otos, this young man, and Dez, they all seemed to merge into a strange feeling that seemed to be playing tricks on his mind. Mike stared for a second and the atmosphere grew tense. Willie was watching the strange questioning expression on Mike’s face.

  But Mike was in a trance, staring. Then, as if nothing around him mattered, he rolled up his sleeve and looked at the tattoo that stretched the length of his forearm. RICKY MY BOY.

  Ricky’s teeth began to chatter in shock. His face turned a deathly white and his eyes grew increasingly wider. He knew that name, that term of endearment, and the tattoo. He’d once fingered the freshly inked skin and recalled the feeling of wonder and pride. Unexpectedly, tears filled his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks, and he felt powerless to stop them.

  Mike knew then it was no mind-fuck. He witnessed the lovable expression of pure innocence and the unmistakable look that had always melted his heart. Held by that blade, was his six-year-old. It was the little boy with the round pearl-grey eyes lined with black lashes, the long floppy fringe with that distinctive cowlick, the shoes on the wrong feet, and his school tie skewwhiff. He couldn’t let Dez kill him, not now he had him back. Before he laid into Dez, he had to save his son. He was always a man of his word, but not today.

  ‘Okay, Dez. Let the kid go and I’ll back off,’ said Mike, calmly.

  Willie and Mike slowly stepped back, away from Dez.

  ‘I have your word, Regan, that you will let bygones be bygones and forget about the photos, yeah?’

  Mike looked at Ricky and smiled. He had to play it cool. ‘Yeah, I’m a man of my word. Fuck the photos. Just let the kid go.’ His voice, although cold, was not angry.

  Looking from Willie to Mike, Dez tried to understand if they were serious, but their faces seemed calm and their words believable. He sighed with relief and removed the blade from Ricky and stepped back. Willie rushed forward. He yanked Ricky by the arm, pulling him to safety. It left Dez nervously holding the knife in front of him.

  Mike pulled Ricky from Willie and gently guided him away from the cell. Staffie and Lou, who had gone back to their cells to get the hooch and snacks for their small welcoming party, had been informed of the trouble on the upper level. They hurried up the stairs, meeting Mike, Willie, and Ricky in the corridor. Willie quickly ushered them all into his cell. There was just enough room, and then Mike shut the door.

  Staffie sensed the strange atmosphere. Lou, though, was oblivious – he’d already sampled the hooch and was slightly pissed. Ricky and Mike were face-to-face, and then the others watched as Mike performed a bizarre action. He lifted up the boy’s hair and smiled at the heart-shaped birthmark. Ricky allowed the big man to do whatever he wanted because he was beginning to believe something he’d never even dared before.

  Willie looked at Staffie, his eyes full, and he nodded. Staffie’s lip quivered. ‘Is he? Mike, is he?’ He was desperate to know.

  But it was Ricky who had the answers.

  ‘Dad?’

  Red-faced and teary-eyed, Mike grabbed the boy and hugged him, rocking him back and forth. The words were stuck in his throat, along with the emotional lump. But Ricky, for the first time in twelve years, had found his voice.

  Lou suddenly caught up with events. ‘What the fuck! Is he Ricky?’

  Staffie was crying and laughing at the same time. Willie had his hands over his face, now sobbing like a baby.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, it’s our boy. It’s him. I fucking knew it. I fucking knew he was special,’ cried Staffie.

  Mike was silent, still rocking, with his son’s arms wrapped around his neck – just like he’d done when Ricky was six years old, on that day he’d sent him to Spain.

  Suddenly, Willie realized that Ricky had spoken.

  ‘Ricky, you can talk, mate. You can fucking speak!’

  Mike let Ricky go and looked him over. ‘Why couldn’t ya speak, boy? What the fuck’s happened to ya? We all thought you were dead.’

  Ricky wiped his eyes. ‘I, er … th-th-thought, you w-w-were dead too.’

  ‘It’s all right, Son. Take ya time,’ said Mike, as he wiped Ricky’s tears away.

  ‘Sh-she-she said, if I m-m-mentioned your name, you w-w-would end up in prison or d-d-die. I never did. I never spoke a word after that, even when Jackie told me you were dead.’ He smiled and allowed more tears to plummet down his face. Willie stopped sobbing and tried to compose himself. It was such an enormous relief to all of them. The dark gloomy cloud that had surrounded Mike had now gone.

  ‘Are you talking about your muvver?’ asked Mike, slowly.

  Ricky nodded and then he smiled. ‘Yes.’ He didn’t have to nod or shake his head anymore; he had a voice. ‘Yes, sh-she moved us to-to Ireland to live in-in a caravan next to Tatum and Ty-Tyrone.’ He shot his eyes to the door. ‘Tatum ain’t me-me stepdad either. He’s her bit on-on the side.’

  Staffie jumped in. ‘Did they treat ya well?’

  ‘No-no, they were ev-evil, but it doesn’t matter now, eh? I-I’ve got me dad, I’ve got me-me uncles, and I’ve got everything I pr-prayed for.’

  Trying to control his temper, Mike had to change the conversation or he knew he would ruin this precious moment. But in the back of his mind, he was planning a bastard end for Tatum and Tyrone.

  ‘Dez didn’t touch ya, did he?’ asked Willie, knowing only too well that Dez was a dirty sod who would have fucked the life out of Ricky, given half the chance.

  ‘No, you got there just in time.’ His stammer had subsided, and now he could speak fluently, he was surprised by how deep his voice actually was. His mother’s threat had triggered a major psychological blockage, that had stopped Ricky from speaking. The fear that his talking would result in harm to his father had stopped him from speaking altogether.

  Chapter 26

  The first order of the day was for Mike to get on the phone and break the news. He’d intended to call home as soon as he’d arrived because a note had been left at reception for him. He’d only been in transit for two days – from Wormwood Scrubs to Portsmouth, and then, finally, to Maidstone. What with all the excitement over Ricky, there just hadn’t been time to square the circle.

  Mike dialled the number and handed the phone to Ricky. Gloria saw that there was no caller ID and knew the call was from the prison.

  ‘Mikey! Thank God you called. Didn’t you get my message? Oh, never mind. Listen. Oh, hang on a minute. Arthur!’ she screamed. ‘Listen, Son, we have some news. Ya father’s just coming. Are you at Maidstone now with the boys? Right. Here he is. We’ve got something important to tell you.’

  Ricky was smiling because his grandmother hadn’t even realized it was him; he’d yet to open his mouth.

  Mike rolled his eyes. He knew what his mother was like for not letting anyone get a word in edgeways.

  ‘Nan.’

  The line went silent.

  ‘Nan, it’s me. It’s Ricky.’

  Gloria suddenly took a seat as Arthur, now very puzzled by her expression, snatched the phone from her hand.

  ‘Hello? Mikey?’

  ‘No, Pops, it’s me. Ricky.’

  Again, there was silence. Mike took the phone from Ricky and winked. ‘Dad, it’s me. I’ve got Ricky, Dad. I’ve got him back. He ain’t dead. He’s here with me, right now …’ Yet another silence followed.

  ‘Dad?’

  Mike smiled. He could hear his mother screaming with excitement in the background.

  ‘Dad, I’ve had a VO put on the gate … Dad, are you there?’ He then heard his father sobbing. That was a first: never in his life had he seen or heard his father cry.

  ‘Son, I’m sorry. We’re just a bit overwhelmed, but is our little lad really okay?’

  ‘Aw, Dad, he’s fucking handsome. He’s my boy all right. I got him back. He ain’t changed, apart from being a few feet taller,’ laughed Mike, as he ruffled Ricky’s hair. ‘Just come up and meet him. He’s missed his Pops and Nan.’

  Gloria had obviously reclaimed the phone. ‘Mikey, put him
on. Just let me hear the baby’s voice.’

  Mike laughed. His mother always referred to Ricky as ‘the baby’.

  ‘Here, Ricky. Your nan wants to talk to you.’

  Ricky took the phone. ‘Nan, I’m here. It’s me. I missed ya, all of ya, and I can’t wait to see you.’

  Gloria had calmed her screeching. ‘Is it really you, my baby?’

  Ricky giggled. ‘I’ll give ya a clue: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,’ he sang.

  ‘Aw, Ricky. You remembered.’

  ‘Nan, I sang it in my head every night before I fell asleep.’

  Gloria was now in floods of tears. ‘Aw, now look what you’ve made me do. I’m a right mess, but, my baby, I will be there this afternoon. Oh my God. I can’t wait!’

  ‘See you soon, Nan. I love you.’

  ‘Aw, baby, I love you too.’

  As Mike said his goodbyes, he suddenly thought about Gilly. ‘Mum, pick Gilly up on the way, will you please?’

  ‘Yes, darling, of course I will. Oh, and you’ll also need another VO. That’s why we phoned. Mikey, we found Zara. She’s alive, Son! She’s alive! Eric and ya father rescued her. She’s here, Son, with us.’

  Ricky watched as his father fell to his knees, a deep sob escaping his mouth. ‘Oh my God! Is she okay? Can I speak to her?’

  Gloria could just about make out his words, as they were trapped inside his cries of joy.

  Zara took the phone. ‘Mikey, I’m safe. Your father found me. I was locked away, but I’m okay. And … I love you, but, Mikey, listen.’ She paused to brace herself. She had to tell him, warn him, before they met up, so he would have time to get his head around everything. ‘You may not want me now. I’m different now … I’m …’

  Mike heard Zara’s voice falter and a sudden chill went up his spine. What had happened to her? His mind was now in a crazy place, and he went back to those darkest days in solitary confinement. It was a time when, free from the distractions of normal prison life, he would focus on those who mattered most in his life.

  ‘What happened, babe? What do you mean?’

  Gloria was now standing close to the phone with her arm around Zara’s shoulders. ‘Go on, babe, it’s okay,’ she urged.