'She’s been taking them,' a voice said from behind him.
The gunman swung round. 'Where the fuck have you been?'
'I got here as soon as I could,' Brother David answered.
Gently, he took hold of Cassie’s hand. He shot a puzzled look at Danny, who was still holding Brother Josh up, and was about to ask what the problem was when the gunman snarled, 'Get on with your business.'
Trying to conceal his worry, Brother David said, 'Don’t be afraid, child. Come with me.' He felt a self-loathing so intense, as Cassie pleaded with her eyes for his help, that for a moment he was unable to move – until a poke in the ribs with the gun spurred him on.
He could save this one. She was still fit and strong enough to make a run for it. Just along the corridor, and they could disappear. But how many would that madman take vengeance on? A new shipment was due in an hour. Just about every one of the children here was now expendable. He thought hard as he walked along the corridor. Reaching the door to freedom, he passed by. As much as he wanted to save this one child, his conscience would not allow him to have even more blood on his hands.
It had not taken Mike long to suss out exactly what was going on. The smell would be enough for anyone. He’d watched what had transpired between the gunman, the two girls and Danny, seen how gaunt Dave was, and the heartbreaking state of the others in there. It all brought his blood to boiling point.
Taking a wild guess, he ran round the side of the building, praying he’d remembered rightly that there was a door on this side of the building and not the other.
He spotted the door only because it was slightly ajar. Dave’s doing, he wondered, or a trap? Slowing down to minimize any noise, he reached the door. His back flat against the wall, he used his left foot to push the door open.
Silently it moved inwards. Well oiled, again. It had to be Dave. He took courage in the fact that Dave obviously had enough faith in him to think that he would understand the note. Pushing off from the wall, he spun into the small corridor that led into the larger one. Three strides took him to the next door. He put his ear to one of the panels. After a moment he heard a noise, two separate pairs of feet. He guessed rightly that Dave and Cassie had already passed by, so these must be the creep with the gun and Shelly.
Judging the right moment, he flung the door open, and threw himself onto the shocked gunman.
7.30 pm
Smiler and Tiny had walked round the nearly deserted island, and found no sign of Aunt May. Frustrated, Smiler turned for home. 'Not even a whiff of her,' he muttered to Tiny, then stopped in his tracks. 'That’s it!' He looked at the dog. 'Time to show if you’re worth your keep, boy. Come on.'
At a run, he headed for Aunt May’s house. Practically falling through the back door, he grabbed one of Aunt May’s countless wool cardigans off a peg. 'Here, boy find.' He had no idea if Tiny was any good at fetching or finding, but if there was any chance it might work, he had to give it a go. He rubbed the cardigan on Tiny’s nose. The dog barked, then grabbed a mouthful of the cardigan, thinking he was playing tug-of-war.
'No, no.' Smiler carefully disentangled the dog’s teeth from the wool. 'Find.' He rubbed the cardigan over Tiny’s nose again, repeating, 'Find!' as he guided Tiny towards the back door.
Outside, Tiny sniffed the ground. Suddenly he started barking loudly and set off at a run, yanking the lead out of Smiler’s hand. Catching him, Smiler allowed Tiny to lead him around the streets. The dog paused now and then, before setting off in a different direction that led him back to the same place. Smiler guessed that perhaps Aunt May had passed over the various points more than once.
That Tiny had the scent was obvious, but they seemed to be getting nowhere. Smiler was becoming increasingly worried. The feeling that something was very wrong with Aunt May was growing stronger by the minute. His heart was heavy, and there was an ever- increasing blackness in his head that was starting to frighten him.
'Come on, good dog. Find… Find Aunt May, Tiny, good boy.'
Tiny shook himself, turned round and, nose to the ground, hurried off in the direction of the ruined monastery. 'OK,' Smiler said, 'we’ll try over there. We’ve done just about everywhere else.'
Tiny sniffed around the entrance, then suddenly took off again, dragging Smiler with him. Reaching the wall where Aunt May lay, Tiny put his head back and howled. His heart pounding in his chest, Smiler walked round to the other side of the wall.
7.31 pm
Wrapping his left hand around the gunman’s mouth, Mike gestured with his head to the amazed Shelly, urging her to follow him as he dragged the struggling man back into the passageway.
He’d noticed that a lot of the people had a length of rope hanging from their right wrists, Shelly included. Shrugging off the thought his mind provided for this, he gave the gunman a punch to the side of his head, knocking him out completely. Letting him fall to the floor, he reached for Shelly’s wrist. Wide-eyed and trembling, she shied away from him.
'It’s all right love,' he said gently, 'I’m a police officer.' For a moment, her eyes met his. Mike could see in their depths that she wanted to believe him. But he knew she was also getting ready to run. That was easily read in her posture. 'No, Shelly, keep calm. Trust me, I’m here to help.'
Still not one hundred percent convinced, she said hesitatingly, 'How do you know my name?'
'I told you, I’m a policeman. I’ve been looking for you… Your brothers, Gary and Liam? They reported you missing.'
Taking a deep breath, she relaxed slightly.
'OK, now give me the rope, so that we can tie this joker up.'
Looking down at the gunman, she curled her lip as she lifted her hand for Mike to untie the rope. In less than a minute he had it off her wrist. Flipping the gunman over, he quickly tied his hands. Standing up, Mike shed his jacket then, pulling his T-shirt over his head, he ripped it in half, then once more. Balling the thickest piece he shoved it into the man’s mouth, then stretched one of the longer strips over his mouth and tied it at the back of his neck.
'OK.' He looked at Shelly. 'Give me a brief rundown about exactly what the hell’s going on here.'
Danny was still holding Brother Josh upright. He was showing signs of coming round now. Danny was anxiously biting his lip when Brother David entered the hall, with a puzzled look on his face. He strode down to Danny and Brother Josh, just as Brother Josh let out a huge moan.
'What? Who did this?' Brother David stared in horror at the state of Brother Josh’s face.
Danny swallowed hard, and said meekly, 'Er, me.'
'You!'
'Er, yes.' Danny looked wildly around for an escape route, even though he knew there was none, because this brother looked a hell of a lot tougher than the other.
'Hmm. I can probably guess why.' Brother David sighed. He hooked an arm under Brother Josh’s arms, and started to lead him away. Halfway down the hall, he turned back. 'Where’s Shelly?'
Shrugging, Danny muttered, 'Happy Face took her away.'
Brother David stopped. 'How long ago?'
'Just after you took Cassie.'
He gasped. He’d looked into the room she was supposed to be in, after delivering Cassie up to the monster, hoping to take her hand in prayer. It was the least he could do. But she hadn’t been there. He glanced quickly around the room. The gunman, who had never once in all the months he’d been there told them his name, was nowhere in sight.
Suddenly his heart soared. Could Mike be here? Could it be possible that he’d finally got the message? 'Come with me,' he said. 'Quickly, now.'
'OK,' Danny answered. Anything was better than standing here filling the endless bags with the endless piles of pills. He actually wondered how long he would stay sane at this rate. Perhaps the poor sods swallowing the poison had it right after all. Sweet oblivion!
Mike had listened in amazement as Shelly gave him a garbled tale that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had to stop her once or twice to clarify somethin
g, and although a lot of what she said sounded like fiction, there were so many plausible things that made the whole story ring true.
The gunman had regained consciousness, and was now glaring at Shelly. He started to struggle, and kicked at her. Mike gave him another tap on the head with his gun, sending him spiralling down into blackness again.
Opening the gun, he checked it for ammunition, satisfied there was a full clip. He turned his mobile phone off. He needed no sudden noise to alert the fiend and his cronies.
He judged Kristina and crew should only be five minutes, max. Turning to Shelly, Jesus Christ, she looks like she’s dying, he thought, and said gently, 'Wait here. I doubt he’ll wake up for a good while now, but if he does, keep him quiet any way you can.'
She nodded, and slid down the wall to sit next to the gunman. She didn’t have the strength to do anything else.
Mike crept along silently. Having visited the monastery more than once, he had a good idea of the layout of the place. He prayed he would be in time to save Cassie. He moved four doors along the corridor. This room had a big bay window that he could easily climb out of. He needed to be outside. Surprise was his best weapon, and it could not be achieved by creeping along corridors, where at any given moment four or five doors could open at once, spilling God knows what into his space.
Cassie stood in front of The Leader. She was shaking with fright as he smiled down at her. Cassie’s eyes were not on his face though, but on the large knife he held in his left hand. They were alone in the room. The stone floor was cold on her bare feet. Her shoes had been taken away the moment she got here.
'You look good in your school uniform. Have any of the boys told you that before? Of course they have.' Without waiting for an answer, he moved closer, one slow step after another. 'A beautiful girl like you must have many boyfriends.' He was in front of her now, his feet inches away from hers, his body even closer.
Mike dropped silently to the ground. Bending over, he ran to the window he wanted, reaching it just as The Leader flicked Cassie’s hair off her shoulder with the knife.
Breathing deeply, Mike used a calming technique to still the anger building in his blood. He had to wait for a distraction, the man was too close to the girl. One wrong move on Mike’s part, and the bastard could easily slit her throat in seconds. He looked through the gun sights. One shot to the bastard's head was all it would take, and whatever spell he had these people under would be broken. Mike had dealt with cults before. He knew that sometimes all it needed was a drastic sharp shock for most to come to their senses. Some, however, were lost forever, and he strongly doubted if those poor souls in the packing sheds would ever make it back to some semblance of normal life. But Cassie could be saved.
'If he would only step back for a moment,' Mike whispered. 'That’s all, one moment.'
7.50 am
The ambulance hurried over the causeway. Inside, Smiler had tight hold of Aunt May’s hand. She was unconscious, and so pale, he thought, as the nurse cleaned the blood off her face. They hadn’t been very encouraging when they had arrived, saying very little until Smiler, crazy with worry for the woman who in a short time had become his surrogate mother, demanded to know what they thought. A lot of head-shaking went on between the two ambulance people, with a serious whisper -- 'We won’t know until we get her to the hospital.'
Why whisper? Smiler thought. It’s obvious that she can’t hear you!
They passed through Beal, turned left onto the motorway and, sirens blasting, headed towards Newcastle.
Smiler took out his mobile and looked at the time. Fifteen minutes since he’d phoned Mike and left a message. What was he doing? Mike never switched his mobile off.
As he looked back at Aunt May, a feeling of blackness descended on him. He didn’t know if it was for Aunt May, the two girls in his head, for Mike, or for all of them.
Mike gently put pressure on the trigger. Then, startled, he swung the gun away as the sound of gunshots rang through the building. He ducked out of sight. Leaning against the wall, he slowly rose again until his eyes were peering over the sill. The room was empty, and the sound of gunfire even louder.
He tried opening the window. To his surprise it slid upwards easily enough. This one he didn’t put down to Dave, but to the warm summer night. It only took a moment for him to hoist himself inside. Reaching the open door, he peered round. Someone was running along the corridor. He realised who it was the moment they passed. Stepping out behind the running figure, he said, 'Wait.'
Still running, Danny swung his head round. Recognising Mike, he stopped and heaved a huge sigh. 'Jesus, man, the fucking cavalry at last. Where the hell have you been? Do you have any fucking idea what’s going on here? There’s a room full of friggin’ zombies back there. Call yourself a copper, with this going on under your fucking nose for a year or more?'
'Shut up,' Mike said as he reached him. 'Do everything I say when I say it.'
'Yeah, I can live with that.' Pleased that there was someone to take charge, Danny fell in step with Mike as they headed towards the gunfire that was coming from the large dining hall.
'Just one thing,' Danny said, as they reached the heavy oaken doors.
'What?' Mike snarled.
'Shouldn’t we be running the other way?'
Ignoring him, Mike slowly opened the door a few inches. Right in his line of sight, he could see Dave, his arms around Cassie. Both of them were huddled under a large table. His eyes tight shut, Dave was praying, his lips moving as guns blasted back and forth. Suddenly he opened his eyes, and stared at Mike.
Mike gave him a nod. His face wreathed in smiles, Dave cuddled Cassie closer and whispered something in her ear.
'What’s going on?' Danny asked from behind Mike.
'Can’t you guess?' Mike hissed in exasperation.
'Well… well, yes, I suppose. What we’ve got here is a bunch of fucking nutters.'
Ignoring him again, Mike rested his gun against his shoulder, barrel pointed at the ceiling. He risked a glance. Half a dozen men were firing at each other, ducking and weaving about, shooting at anything that moved. He noticed the one they called The Leader, hiding behind two huge guards. He swung his head the other way and gasped when he saw Tony taking aim. The Leader went down. Suddenly the harsh sound of sirens filled the air.
'Thank God for that,' Danny said, actually managing to make it sound like a genuine prayer.
Mike looked back for Tony, caught him running across the room, making for a door further down the hall than the one that Mike and Danny were standing in.
Knowing where Tony was heading, Mike spun round. Nearly knocking Danny off his feet, he took off at a run. Not wanting to be left behind, Danny followed him, muttering, ‘I knew we should have gone this way.'
When they reached the small corridor which led outside, where Mike had left Shelly and the gunman, the door was wide open and either the light bulb had blown, or Tony had taken the time to switch it off.
Was he waiting in there for them, hiding in the dark, ready to kill again?
'God, what’s that smell?' Danny wrinkled his nose.
'Shush, Danny… Shelly?' Mike said quietly. There was no answer. He turned to Danny and mouthed, 'The light switch is on the left of the door. When I step in, switch it on.'
Danny gulped, but nodded as he moved to stand side by side with Mike.
Stepping into the corridor, Mike quickly swung his gun from side to side, as Danny flipped the switch. Both of them gasped loudly, and Mike dropped the gun to his side. There was blood everywhere. Up the walls, pooling on the floor – even the light shade was splattered. Danny’s hand suddenly felt damp and sticky. Not daring to look at his fingers, he shuddered, and quickly wiped his hand on his jeans.
'Dear God!' Mike said.
Danny followed Mike’s gaze. 'Oh, no. Oh, no.' Sobbing, he fell to his knees.
Shelly and the gunman lay propped against the wall. Their throats had been cut. The gunman’s body had been savagely
sliced open, his intestines spilling onto the floor. Not only had they fallen out of the gaping wound, they had been helped out, dragged along the floor and stamped on, as if a petulant child had, after being punished, wrecked his room. Mike looked around in horror. He thought he’d seen the worst thing ever when he had seen what had been done to Alicia, but this was worse than anything he could ever have imagined.
Bending down, he checked Shelly for a pulse, guessing that it was only because the bastard was pushed for time that she hadn’t suffered the same fate as the gunman. If she had been sitting where the gunman was, then it would have been her insides scattered all over the floor.
He tried every pulse point he knew, and was about to give up when he tried her left wrist again. He felt a faint pulse. He snatched the gag out of the gunman’s mouth and used it to put pressure on Shelly’s wound. 'She’s alive, Danny… Danny?' Mike turned. Danny was flat out on the floor behind him.
8.35 pm
As a fleet of ambulances left the monastery for the hospital, Mike and Kristina stood over the dead body of the gunman. Cassie was on her way, physically unscathed, to her mother, and a traumatized Danny had been taken to his friend Evan’s flat. It was touch and go with Shelly, but the ambulance crew were doing everything they could to stabilize her. If she made it to the hospital, she stood a chance. Dave and the other brothers were all being interviewed.
9.00 pm
A pathologist that Mike had never met before had been sent up from Newcastle to fill in for Jill. The woman, who had been on her knees staring at the gaping wound in the gunman’s throat, stood up. She stretched, with her hands on her hips. Long and lean. Mike could not help but admire her lithe shape. Morgane Westwood was a beautiful woman, with thick, raven-black hair tied at the nape of her neck, and large violet eyes. But Mike was distracted only momentarily. His mind was in a place far different from the claustrophobic walls of this small space. He was wondering how Tony could have done this cold-blooded murder. The Tony he knew would be incapable of such a callous act.
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