by Mark West
"No," he said, feeling a sense of defeat spread in his mind. He knew he had to stop it, nip it in the bud before it got too much to overcome, but he was fast losing sight of any kind of silver lining to this evening.
"We could try the farm."
David glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "It's after three, they won't be up. And do we really want to drag anyone else into this?"
"Like the bloke from the petrol station?"
"I only wanted to use his phone." He took a deep breath and licked his lips. "I'll be honest with you, Nat - I don't want to call into the farm because I've got a very bad feeling about this and I'm fucking terrified. We're coming up to a dead end, there's no way back down and I don't know how far these twats are willing to go."
She turned and he glanced at her, saw the fear in her eyes. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"
"Yes." He wished he could lie and make her feel better, "I think we are."
The road levelled out and David could see the top of the hill. Three long, low buildings stood dark against the faint glow of the sky. The farmhouse was down from the summit and set back a little way from the road. They were three or four hundred yards away and as he watched, an upstairs light clicked on.
"Please don't come out," said Nat quietly, "please don't come out."
"Nat, we need to figure out what we're going to do."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't been up here before?"
"No, only as far as the driving range."
"And it's really a piggery?"
She smiled but it looked fake and pained in the wan light. "Uh huh, if it's warm and the wind's in the right direction, you can smell it."
"So those buildings must be the pig barns, which means there has to be a gated area and some kind of turnaround, so the farmer can get his tractor or whatever up and down."
"Makes sense."
As it usually did, talking through his ideas made David feel better and gave him a little jolt of confidence. Explaining his plans, giving them life with his voice, meant that he was working to sort the situation out. Even if he was just making it up as he went, at least he was assertive and not solely defending a position he didn't want to hold.
"We have to accept we can't get back down the hill, without passing them. So we park up as near to a wall or gate as we can, so that we can't get blocked in and then hide out somewhere - perhaps in one of the barns?"
His plans seemed to be having the same positive effect on Nat they did on him and she sounded brighter now, more alert. "Right. Then what?"
"If the thugs split up to investigate, we have a better chance of getting back to the car and back into Gaffney."
Excited as he was, he could see huge holes in the plan -
what if they didn't get out of their car, or left someone on guard, or blocked the lane completely? But Nat seemed enthusiastic and keeping her that way would be half the battle won.
They passed a gateway. A narrow drive led from it to the farmhouse. The bedroom light was still on and as David watched, a light downstairs went on too. "Shit," he said.
"You think they can hear us?"
David wound the window down slightly and the steady thud from the Audi's stereo echoed across the dark fields. "Yeah."
"Perhaps they have children and it's time for a feed?"
"Maybe, but I'll bet it's the noise. We're so far off the beaten track, these people'd get so little traffic that they'd notice anything out of the ordinary and us coming up here at three in the morning is out of the ordinary."
"Do you think they'll come out?"
"Hopefully they'll just call the police."
"They might think we're rustlers," Nat said eagerly and the absurdity of her statement made him smile.
After the farm, the hedges seemed to fill out, turning the road into a lane that curved left and right as it climbed the last of the hill. Within a minute, the road came to an end in a large turning circle, separated from the fields by a dry-stone wall. Straight ahead of them was a large gateway, with deep ruts leading off the cattle grid and into the field.
David pulled the wheel hard to the right and jerked the handbrake on. The back end of the Vectra lost traction and started to fishtail, so he stamped the footbrake and released the handbrake. The car came to a juddering halt facing the wall with the lane to its left.
"Bollocks," he said.
"Close enough," said Nat and she got out.
David got out quickly and followed Nat to the gate. It was closed but in the faint light, he could see that it was padlocked to the post.
"Climb over," he said.
The gate rattled loudly as they climbed over, careful as they landed so as not to twist their ankles - or worse - on the cattle-grid.
"Now where?" said Nat.
David glanced down the lane. The stereo was gaining in volume but he couldn't see anything. Then there was a splash of lights across the farmhouse. "Come on," he said and jumped over the four deep ruts that led off the cattle-grid. Pools of water lined the bases of them, reflecting back the half moon in an oily glaze. "Head for the first barn."
They ran across the scrubby grass towards the first single storey wooden structure. As far as David could see, like the others, this had windows down the side and a large window high in the apex at the front. Double doors led into the barn and dirty coloured straw was ground into the mud in front of the doors.
David grabbed the handle as the field was lit by headlights and Nat turned to see. "No," he urged her, "come on."
He pulled open the door, shoved her through and followed quickly, pulling it closed behind him.
The stench hit him like a shovel and made him gag. He held his hand over his mouth and nose, but it was too late and his eyes watered. Nat made a gagging sound and he gripped her hand tightly.
He could hear animals in the darkness - movements on the straw, vague snufflings and even some whining, snoring and farting. It appeared that none of them had woken up, which was good - he imagined they'd make an awful racket if disturbed and that would be like putting a neon sign over their hiding place.
"Oh." Nat pulled away from him and he heard her vomit. "Oh God," she said and spat.
He hushed her, swallowing back his own bile. "We mustn't wake the pigs."
She reached for his arm and hissed, "I didn't want to be sick, you know."
"I know."
David pulled out his handkerchief and held it over his nose and mouth. It didn't mask much of the smell, but it took the edge off and stopped the waves of nausea that pushed at the base of his throat. He turned slowly, the ground slushy under his feet and crouched down. There were gaps in the wood below the door handle and he could see a wedge of the field and gateway through it. The headlights got brighter and the stereo got louder.
"Here they come," he said.
Bright light danced across the grass and ruts and then the Audi came bursting through the gate with a loud bang. The gate buckled, stones flew and the bumper and bonnet crumpled. The nearside headlight went out in a shower of glass and something hit the windscreen, sending a web of cracks skating across it.
The Audi landed hard on the cattle-grid and the front off-side tyre blew out and dropped sideways as the axle snapped. It hit the first rut, which jarred the front of the car up, then dropped into the second and jerked to the right. Mal, his face set, was struggling to keep control but failing - as he pulled the wheel, the tyres followed the ruts to their end, the oily mess at the bottom of them spraying up the panels, doors and windows. Clear of the ruts, the wheels dug in and spun the car to the left, where it turned almost 180 degrees and slid to a stop in a clump of high nettles.
"Fucking hell," said David. "If we can get to my car, they won't be chasing us back down."
"Was that noise them crashing the car?"
"Uh huh."
"We're in so much trouble," she said slowly, her voice fragile.
He couldn't respond to that, couldn't lie to her, as he needed to keep h
er spirits up. "There's always a way," he said and grimaced, hoping the statement didn't sound as stupid to her as it did to him.
"Yeah, right."
"We have to stay positive, Nat. They're doped up and doing stupid things…"
"…but they're smart when they need to be," she corrected him, "they steered us up here quite well."
"Yes, but they've wrecked their car. They don't know where we are, so we either sit it out and wait until the sun comes up and the farmer starts work or, if we're pushed, we nobble them and drive away."
"Nobble them?"
It wasn't something that he'd wanted to think about before, but the odds were raising with every passing moment that there would now be a confrontation, that there would be violence. "We might have to put up a fight."
"Right," she said. He felt movement against his side, then the door pushed away from him slightly and he saw a slice of her hair as she moved into a thin wedge of light. "What do you think we ought to do?"
David's self-defence training was rubbish and what he did know, he'd picked up from TV and films. "Back at yours, I put my keys between my fingers, so that my punch would have a bit extra to it."
"My Dad taught me that too, but my keys are back at the house."
David fished around in his jacket pocket and handled his house-keys to her, gripping them tightly in his fist so they didn't rattle together. "Take these," he said.
He felt her pat his arm. "Thank you, David."
There was a loud bang from outside and David looked through the gap. The drivers door of the Audi was open, wedged into the earth. A large dent in the panel seemed to swallow light. Mal got out, unsteady on his feet and rocked his head from side to side.
"Fuck!" he shouted, "that was cool."
He turned as Clarkey slid out of the door and rolled over, before getting to his knees. He'd obviously been injured, there was a long gash across his forehead and fresh trails of blood ran down over his eyes and cheeks.
Mal walked to the front of the car and kicked the bumper. Steam was starting to escape through the grill. "Fucking piece of shit."
Jay eased himself out of the car and leaned against it, shaking his head.
Mal looked around, nodding and then stepped over the ruts. "Little pigs," he yelled, his voice booming across the field. David felt Nat flinch. "Little pigs! We know you're here, so come on out."
"Don't move," said David.
"Really?" said Nat, with a welcome trace of sarcasm in her voice that made him smile. Perhaps she could do this, he thought and if she can, so can I.
Clarkey spat on the ground, then mumbled something to Mal, who kicked some mud at him. Jay pushed himself off the car, holding his hands up as if trying to calm the situation, but Mal said something to him and the lanky man leant back on the car.
"You'd better come out," yelled Mal, turning back towards the barn, "or you're in trouble."
"What do we do?" said Nat.
"We wait. There're three barns and three of them - if they check at the same time, we make a run for it."
"Hey!"
The new voice startled David and he pushed against the door, trying to see who it was. Mal turned, facing the gate.
"Is it the police?" asked Nat, "can you see?"
"No," said David. He pressed his right temple against the rough wood until he saw someone walking up through the turnaround. "Oh no. I think it's the farmer."
The newcomer was striding towards the gate. He was wearing a brown duster coat, a woolly hat and cord trousers and dirty boots. "What's going on lads?" he said.
Mal started walking towards him. "Not a lot, why?"
"Because you're on my farm, that's why and I've had enough with people coming up here at night and pissing about."
Mal put his hands on his hips. "We're not pissing about, mate, so just fuck off, alright?"
"Who the hell are you?" demanded the farmer, his voice rising. He reached the gate. "Holy shit, look at this. Didn't you see it or something, you stupid fucker?"
"Yeah, I saw it. What're you going to do about it?"
The farmer's pace slowed and he rubbed his face. "For the love of God," he said, "get off my land, you piece of ASBO shit, or I'll call the police."
"That your house?" said Mal, as if he hadn't heard anything the farmer had said.
"Get off my land."
The farmer stopped a couple of paces from Mal and they squared up to one another. Clarkey had gotten to his feet by now and he leaned against the wounded Audi alongside Jay. Mal raised his left arm towards the barns and, even though he knew he couldn't be seen, David moved back from the gap slightly. "Our mates are hiding in those barns and we want to find them."
The farmer glared at Mal and took a step towards him. "I want everyone out of here. Now."
Mal moved quickly. He grabbed the farmers left arm and twisted it around and back, shoving it up until the farmer dropped to his knees, his face twisted in pain. Mal knelt beside his captive, reached into his pocket and then he was holding a Stanley knife to the farmer's throat.
"What're you doing?" spluttered the farmer.
"Should've kept your nose out," said Mal and he drove the knife into the farmer's neck, just below the angle of his jawbone. There was a quick spray of blood, that coated the side of Mal's face and he pushed the body across his front, slashing at the farmer's throat as it went by, cutting a ragged line.
The farmer rolled onto the floor, clutching his neck, his fingers darkening in the gloom as the blood pumped through them. He lay on his back, gurgling and then he was still.
"What happened?" asked Nat, impatiently.
David couldn't think, couldn't speak. His mind was whirling, trying to create calm out of the chaos that his life had descended into. He'd just seen an innocent man get his throat slashed to pieces, a man who, until they'd driven by his house ten minutes ago, hadn't had a worry in his mind about thugs and knives. Worse, David's mind was laying out the plain fact that unless they were willing to fight, they wouldn't get out of here alive either. Suddenly, anything was possible.
Words finally came. "I think Mal just went mad. He's cut the farmer's throat."
"What?"
"Just like that, he just sliced through it."
"Really? Fuck oh fuck. Shit, what're we going to do?"
David squeezed her arm. "We have to stay calm or we'll end up the same way. It's bad now."
"Us or them," she said slowly.
"Uh huh." He looked through the gap. Mal was gesturing for the other two to come to him.
"Fuck, man," said Clarkey, "I thought we were going to beat the shit out of him and rape the fuck out of her, not kill someone."
"You got a problem with it?"
"No, no," said Clarkey, rubbing his nose.
Clarkey and Jay hobbled over to Mal and Clarkey knelt beside the body. "Uh, all this blood, it stinks."
Mal grabbed the tails of the farmer's duster coat and wiped his face. "Right, you," he said, pointing at Jay, "go and check the barns and you," to Clarkey, "stand by the gate. We're going to smoke them out and I don't want them to get away."
"So we're raping her?" grinned Clarkey, wiping blood from his cheek and rubbing his nose.
"It depends," said Mal, "because if we don't find them, maybe I'll do you."
"Hey," said Clarkey, getting to his feet, "I'm already moving."
"What's happening now?" asked Nat.
"The tall one's coming over."
"Oh shit."
"They're scared of Mal, they think he'll turn on them."
"What're we going to do?"
"Work our way back but be quiet about it, because if those pigs wake up, we might as well give up now."
"But I can't see anything."
"Me either." David took one last look at the advancing Jay and reached for Nat's hand. Their fingers connected and she grabbed for him, holding him tight. He turned from the door and held out his left hand, exploring the space in front of him.
The first st
ep was onto a low platform, perhaps a pallet. The second step was solid. The third was off the pallet and he trod hard onto soft earth, his shoe squelching into the mess, his knee jarring. "Bollocks," he said, "step here. Be careful."
The pigs slept on, but the smell - which he thought he'd almost become accustomed to - got worse. His eyes watered and his nose burned. He heard Nat retch again, but she didn't bring anything up.
The darkness, beyond a few feet, was impenetrable. He walked as quickly and carefully as he could, pulling Nat behind him. After a while, his leading hand bumped against a piece of wood. Just behind it was a faint glow - the charging light on a phone unit.
"There's a phone," said David and then the door banged open.
Eight
The door clattered against the wall and let in enough light for David to get his bearings. They were halfway down the barn and standing beside a crudely built desk that had a board behind it, which closed off one of the pens. There was a door behind them, about three paces away.
Jay filled the doorframe, cutting out most of the light and David crouched behind the board, pulling Nat with him.
Mal shouted something that David couldn't hear clearly, because Jay gagged and then there was a splashing noise.
"Fucking stinks in here," Jay said, spitting.
"Check," David heard Mal shout.
"I can't see fuck all."
"… turn… light."
David leaned close to Nat. "If he puts the light on," he whispered, "we're going to be blinded for a few moments and the pigs are going to go mental."
"If he walks down here, he'll find us."
David nodded, then walked in a crouch to the door. He pushed it gently and it gave slightly, but was obviously locked.
The barn started to light up, as rows of fluorescent tubes clicked and fluttered into life. David shut his eyes but not quickly enough and when he opened them again, everything was in negative for a few moments. He looked up at the door handle, but it was above the level of the board and he didn't want to risk being seen.
The pigs began to wake up, squealing and honking and the din, in the enclosed space, was almost overwhelming initially.
In the light, David could see they were in an accessway. The desk behind Nat had the phone on it and a couple of battered ring binders. The board was a large MDF square with scuff marks, about four feet tall - someone coming down the main walkway wouldn't see them until the last minute.
