‘You just did!’
Lucy laughed nervously.
‘What’s this all about, Jack? What do they want? They were shooting at me. At first they were trying to take me hostage, but when I ran off I’m sure they were trying to kill me.’
‘I think it’s me they want, Luce,’ Jack replied. ‘They don’t seem to want me dead, but I have no idea what it’s all about.’
‘I didn’t tell you before; I thought you’d tell me I was seeing things. There was a woman in the village a couple of weeks ago. You know how sometimes you notice people? They’re not up to anything, but they stand out. That’s what this woman was like. She didn’t belong. And she lied to me too.’
‘What are you talking about? Hey, here’s Calum!’
The conversation was curtailed. A van was making its way along the road, driving slowly, searching for something – or somebody.
‘What’s his van like? Did he say?’ Jack asked.
Lucy began to move towards the gate.
‘Luce, wait! Let’s make sure it’s him first. Wait!’
She ignored his pleas. She was cold and desperate to get inside the van so she could warm up. She hadn’t taken much notice of the vehicles that had pulled up in the road earlier. Calum had said he was driving a van – this had to be him.
She walked onto the verge and waved. She was dazzled by the headlights as the van pulled up alongside her. From his position crouching behind the hedge, Jack heard the sound of the handbrake being applied and the door opening. Carefully, hesitantly, he peered around the side of the gate. As his eyes began to adjust to the glare of the headlights, he realised that they’d just given themselves away.
From behind the passenger door stepped a tall, muscular figure. It was Rosa. And now she had her hands around Lucy’s neck.
Lucy was gasping for breath. Rosa stared at Jack, daring him to try and stop her. The driver got out of his side of the van. It wasn’t the older man Lucy had mentioned, he was one of the guys who’d been hunting them down in the woods. The one with the small dick. Blake.
Suddenly there was the screech of brakes and the crunch of metal as a second vehicle crashed into the van from behind. Blake leapt into the ditch at the side of the road. Rosa instantly loosened her grip on Lucy’s throat.
‘Lucy, run!’ Jack shouted. The quad bike was still idling behind the hedge. He jumped into the driver’s seat and felt for the pedals. Lucy got on behind him, still fighting to catch her breath. She knew that she had to flee if she wanted to stay alive.
‘Where’s the fucking clutch?’ Jack screamed. Rosa was coming through the gate towards them.
‘There. There! Push it with your foot. Go. Go!’
The quad bike roared into life. Jack drove straight at Rosa. She saw the look on his face, he would drive over her if he had to. She jumped out of the way as the quad bike bumped over the verge and hit the surface of the road. Instantly, the drive became easier and they picked up speed. Rosa rushed out behind them, raising her gun and firing two shots. Jack drove faster.
‘How fast can these things go?’ he shouted, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, scouring it for obstacles.
‘Where are the lights?’
‘There, to your right!’ Lucy reached past Jack to point at the switch, holding his waist tight with her other hand.
‘Fuck! They’re coming!’ she screamed.
Behind them she could hear the revving of an engine as Blake pulled the van off the bumper of whoever had just rammed it from behind.
‘Step on it, Jack! It should do sixty easily. Thrash it.’
‘If we come off this thing, we’ll turn our heads to mush. We aren’t even wearing helmets.’
‘Jesus, Jack, you’re driving like your mum!’
Jack took the cue. He moved through the gears and the wind whistled in his ears as the bike gathered speed. They were flying along the country lane faster than he would have even dared in a car.
‘Jack, they’re behind us. Go faster!’
The full beam lights shining behind them illuminated the road ahead.
‘She’s got the gun pointing at us. Swerve, Jack – don’t drive in a straight line.’
‘But that’ll run us off the road!’
A bullet hit the right-hand wheel guard.
‘Shit!’ Jack cried. Twisting the throttle as far as it would go, he began to veer from side to side. They were travelling at over 60mph.
‘They’re gaining on us. You’ve got to go faster. You’re in fourth gear, get it into fifth, we can squeeze more out of this thing!’
In her panic, Lucy was trying to reach over and take the controls.
‘Jack, look! Over there – we’re running parallel to the motorway. If we get onto it we can shake them off. They’ve got phones on the hard shoulder.’
Lucy stood up and reached past Jack to take the wheel. She wrenched it to the left, aiming for a field gate a short distance ahead. The quad bike lurched and bumped along the verge, coming to a sudden stop.
‘Lucy, what the fuck are you doing?’
She jumped off the back of the bike and started to pull open the gate.
Their manoeuvre had taken Blake by surprise. He overshot the gate and braked so hard that he skidded onto the verge. He tried to reverse, his front wheels spinning in the mud.
Lucy opened the gate and waved Jack through.
‘Come on! They won’t be stuck there long.’
Jack turned the bike towards the gate and Lucy jumped back on.
‘You want to drive?’ he asked, beginning to rev.
‘No time. Come on, let’s go!’
The van was now out of the mud. Blake swung it towards the gate. Jack was driving across the field at full throttle.
‘How are we going to get out of here, Luce? We’re trapped!’
‘No, look, over there. They’re repairing the fence. It’s that orange stuff they use on roadworks. You can drive straight though it. Come on, Jack, they’re catching us up.’
The glare of the van’s lights was behind them. They had no choice but to make for the gap in the fence. It was about two metres wide, the orange mesh held up by three metal posts. Jack aimed between two of them and shut his eyes as they drove through the fencing at high speed. It collapsed under the weight of the quad bike and they hurtled down the embankment onto the motorway.
Jack moved up through the gears, the van behind them following every step of their desperate journey.
‘We’re driving against the traffic, Luce. We’ll be pulverised if we meet a lorry.’
‘Keep going. It’s the dead of the night and we’re in the middle of nowhere. As soon as we see a service station or a turn-off, we’ll leave the motorway.’
It made sense, but Jack was terrified by their speed. They had to be going 70mph, it felt like 100mph with the wind in his face. He kept on the hard shoulder, hoping that it would provide at least some protection if they came across a vehicle that was heading north.
‘They’re on the motorway now. They’re closing in, Jack. Oh for fuck’s sake!’
‘What? What?’
Jack dared not turn around, he was going too fast, a swerve in either direction and he’d flip the bike.
‘There’s a second van following us. It has to be one of theirs.’
Jack turned the throttle even harder, but they were going as fast as they could. In his peripheral vision he saw a van moving out to their side, while the lights of the second were only metres behind. They were going to try to force them off the road.
The motorway was heading downhill. Jack saw a blue sign on the other side of the road – it must be a turn-off or perhaps a service station. Tightly contained on the hard shoulder, one van on his tail, the other at his side, Jack concentrated on the road. He had to keep the quad bike steady. Lucy had stopped shouting, she was frantically looking behind and to the side.
Suddenly a car came in the opposite direction along the slip road. Seeing three vehicles heading straight for him, the
driver veered towards the main carriageway, forcing the first van to swerve in front of the quad bike. Jack braked hard only to be bumped by the other van behind. He swung the bike into the side of the hard shoulder.
The van behind careered across the motorway exit into the curving metal barrier alongside the slip road. There was a thud as the quad bike clipped the edge of the hard shoulder, spun in the air, and sent them hurtling into the darkness. There was a crash and the sound of a dying engine. Then everything fell silent.
6
On the slip road from the services was evidence of a multi-car pile-up, but there was a calm and stillness, as if those involved hadn’t worked out what had happened yet. There was little traffic on this rural stretch of motorway through Scotland on a Saturday night.
The first sound was a groan, then the metallic noise of a seatbelt being unclipped and the click of a door. It was like an awakening, as one person regained their wits, another would be roused to consciousness by their movement.
On the grass bank beside the slip road, Lucy opened her eyes and scanned the area ahead. It was the indicator light that drew her gaze first of all; it was dangling by a wire but still flashing. It was the car that had been exiting the services, signalling to enter an empty motorway. The driver, a woman as far as she could tell, was slumped over the steering wheel. There was no airbag, or it hadn’t inflated on impact. The front of her car was completely wrecked by the crash.
She looked for Jack. He was lying on the ground several metres away from her. He was dazed, but moving. They were alive at least. She heard the noise of a van door opening – there was movement among their pursuers. Lucy looked for the quad bike. It was upside down, right across the slip road, on the far verge. Not a chance. They had guns, she’d never make it.
All of her instincts made her want to check on the welfare of the woman in the car. What must her thoughts have been as she emerged from her short break at the services to see two vans and a quad bike heading at speed towards her on the wrong side of the road? It must have been terrifying. But there was no time for reflection. She had to make a move.
The door of the second van was pushed open. Lucy and Jack were hidden in the shadows, but the men would soon be after them, and that woman – Rosa – the worst of them all. She would want payback, Jack had humiliated her in front of the men. She would not easily forget how his inept attack in the river had allowed Lucy to get away from her.
Jack groaned. Lucy crept over to him.
‘Quiet, Jack. They haven’t seen us yet. We need to move away from here. Are you okay?’
‘I banged my head when I came off the bike. It feels as if I’ve been hit with a sledgehammer. Is it bleeding?’
Lucy inspected his head. It was hard to see in the semi-darkness.
‘You’ve got quite a deep gash, but it’s not bleeding too much – your hair has got matted in with the wound. Can you move? We need to get away.’
Jack stood up slowly, testing his arms and legs for any further injuries.’
‘I’m good. I can run. How about you? Is your ankle up to it?’
‘It’s not so bad. It’s sore, but I ran through the pain in the woods and I’ll be able to do it again.’
Constantly glancing back, Lucy and Jack worked their way to the top of the bank away from the lights of the service station. It was dark there, so long as nothing came that cast a shadow on the road below, they’d be fine. They could hear the voices of the men in the distance. They were regrouping. An engine started, then a second. Both vehicles must still be driveable. Jack stopped to take a closer look.
They jumped as the crack of a gunshot cut through the night.
‘Shit, they just shot that woman in the car!’ Lucy gasped. ‘What do these people want? Look, they’re pushing her car off the road behind the bushes.’
‘Lucy, come on. We have to get out of here. We need to make our way round to the back of the services and call the police. And don’t forget, there’s always the chance that Calum has already alerted them.’
They jogged along the top of the grassy bank. On the slip road below, the quad bike was being lifted over the barrier and onto the verge.
Where was Calum? He hadn’t made it to the roadside as planned. Had he been killed by Arne and Stefan when they got out of the river? Was it him who’d given them their chance to escape when Lucy had stepped out into the road too soon and been seen by Blake and Rosa?
‘For fuck’s sake!’ Jack exploded, as the services came into view. It was just a petrol station and shop, with a café in a separate building. He’d hoped for something bigger, somewhere they could hide while they waited for help. There was one lorry and a single car in the car park, and no sign of life inside.
Engines were revving behind them. The men were on the move. They had to get to the services and raise the alarm. They sprinted down the bank and into the car park.
Suddenly Lucy’s leg buckled.
‘Damn! My bloody ankle, it just went again!’
‘Come on, put your arm around my shoulder. We’re nearly there.’
The two damaged vans screeched into the car park behind them, their headlights on full beam.
‘Hell! Oh no. Come on, Lucy. Head for the door to the shop.’
Seven figures emerged from the two Mercedes crew vans. They were putting black masks over their heads with neatly cut eye and mouth holes. This was no amateur operation. These people had come prepared. They were not going to get identified from CCTV footage.
Jack and Lucy made it to the shop. They burst through the door, scanning the area. There was nobody at the tills. There were four rows of shelves packed with crisps, sweets, de-icer, screen wash – the usual items that line the shelves of petrol stations.
‘Hello! Hello! Anybody here?’ Jack shouted.
A toilet flushed in a back room behind them.
‘Jack, they’re here!’ Lucy whispered. ‘We have to take cover.’
They could hear the sound of the hand dryer.
‘We need to warn them, Jack. You know what they did to the woman in that car.’
‘I’ll try and get to the back room, you hide over there, behind that shelving. Let’s hope the assistant has a phone. If we get separated, where shall we meet? Back at the slip road where they hid the quad bike? They won’t think about going back there. Meet me there if we get split up. I love you, Luce. I know things have been difficult ... you know I love you.’
‘I love you too, Jack.’
Lucy looked at him, then moved away to crouch down behind some two-way shelving that was used partly as a window display. To her side was a fire exit. She could use it to make her escape if she had to.
Two figures burst into the shop, their faces obscured, handguns at the ready. They hadn’t seen Jack and Lucy go in, the men had split up into groups, they were searching the entire service station for their targets. Jack was on all fours, making his way towards the open door of the back room. He would do his best to avoid detection, but there weren’t many places to hide.
The hand dryer stopped. They heard the latch of the toilet door slide across and the assistant began to make his way back to the shop.
He was just a young guy, probably no more than twenty years old. He was humming to himself. The night shift was always quiet – the occasional customer topping up with fuel, maybe buying a bar of chocolate and a can of coke.
As he walked back into the shop, he stopped humming. He had his head down, concentrating on his mobile phone. When he looked up, there were two hooded figures standing by the till and, down to his left, crouched on the floor, was Jack, his finger to his lips.
His eyes gave the game away, of course. Jack knew he was wasting his time, the poor chap was scared out of his wits.
‘You can take the money!’ he said, his phone falling to the ground. ‘Take whatever you want. Please don’t hurt me. Help yourself to whatever’s in the till.’
He was pleading for his life. He’d seen the weapons that they were carrying
.
‘Come out of there!’ shouted one of the men. Jack recognised his voice, it was the one called Stefan.
‘You stay still,’ said the other, training his gun on the assistant.
Jack reached out to grab the discarded mobile phone. He put it in his pocket alongside his own damaged unit and began to crawl backwards to the end of the row away from Stefan.
The other man, Arne, as far as Jack could remember, was standing by the door, blocking the exit.
Jack looked over to where Lucy was hidden. She was well-concealed, but it was only a small shop, they wouldn’t last long in there. He looked around for something that he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a can of de-icer. It might buy a few seconds if he threw it. He flipped off the lid – perhaps the spray would be useful.
‘Mr Dawson, you need to come out please!’
They still weren’t certain that he was even in there, they were chancing their luck, hoping to flush him out.
The English was good, but he spoke with a German accent.
Stefan reached the third row of shelving as Jack tucked himself into the second. He couldn’t be seen by Arne. But they could only play cat and mouse for so long.
‘We only need to speak with you, Mr Dawson. Can I call you Jack? This needn’t be any worse than it is already.’
Were they calling his bluff? Did they know he was in there? Jack didn’t know. He remained silent.
‘Look, Jack, we both know that this can only last so long now. So why not put us all out of our misery and give yourself up? You can’t escape from us and we only want to talk.’
Jack thought about Matt Rackham’s body burning, about the shooting of the woman driving along the slip road. He thought about how they’d chased him and Lucy with guns.
‘Here’s a little encouragement,’ came Stefan’s voice. Jack’s ears rang with the crack of a gunshot. He heard screaming. It was the shop assistant.
‘What’s your name, boy?’ Stefan shouted. ‘Stop your bloody snivelling or next time it won’t be your foot but your head I put a bullet through. Verstehen Sie mich? You understand me?’
Jack couldn’t breathe. He wanted to gasp for air and vomit at the same time. The assistant was trying hard to stifle his cries of pain, doing his best not to antagonise Stefan any further.
Dead of Night [Full Book] Page 7
