by Jon Grahame
The girls were behind the cars and Reaper was still standing in the gap between them, when two things happened: Shaggy appeared from a side street, out of breath from running. ‘Reaper!’ he shouted, as a shot rang out; Reaper felt a thump in the middle of his back that threw him face down onto the concrete.
Disorientated by the impact, he was vaguely aware of Sandra taking charge and barking orders, and Shaggy pulling him into cover. Sandra fired two shots at a target across the road and shouted, ‘Jenny, cover left!
Kate, cover right! Kate! ’ Her voice cut through Kate’s concern as she hovered over Reaper, and the red haired woman did as she was told.
‘Shit, Reaper! Are you all right?’ said Shaggy.
‘I’m okay.’ He was getting his breath back and thanking God the shooter hadn’t attempted a head shot. He tapped his chest with his fist. ‘Armoured vest.’
‘I saw you at the Alma, but I was upstairs across the road and couldn’t get to you before you drove off.
They came yesterday. Called themselves Muldane’s Army. They’re bastards, Reaper. They shot them in cold blood.’
‘How many?’
‘Four of them. They all have guns.’
Two shots sent chips flying from the concrete and Sandra fired two shots in return.
‘Stay alert,’ she said, in a calm voice.
Jenny and Kate remained crouched behind the cars, but facing outwards to cover their flanks.
A man shouted from across the road.
‘Hey girls! Put down your guns! There’s no point us shooting each other. Make love, not war.’
Someone laughed a dirty laugh, and added, ‘Yeah.
Let’s make lurv, baby!’ in a joke Barry White drawl.
‘You can become Muldane’s volunteers if you treat us nice!’
‘Yeah. You can volunteer for anything we want!’
Sandra said, ‘They’re on the first floor. The window is open. Stay alert! The chat’s probably diversion.’
Reaper may have been wrong, but he thought the girls had stiffened almost imperceptibly at the sexual references. They knew all about men without morals or restraint.
Jenny fired, two, three shots and Reaper glanced down the street. Sandra had been right. A man had tried running across the road to get behind them. He now lay on the ground, wounded and scrabbling to complete the crossing.
‘One down,’ Jenny said.
‘Is he still moving?’ Sandra said.
‘Yes.’
‘Finish him.’
Jenny took careful aim, fired twice more and the man moved no longer.
‘Bitches!’ said a male voice from across the road, and a face emerged pointing a rifle in their direction.
Reaper saw the red dot from Sandra’s sight touch the man’s forehead and, before the man could fire, Sandra had, and his head jerked back. The man’s gun fired aimlessly into the sky as his finger spasmed on the trigger.
‘Fuck!’ someone said. Something was knocked over and a door slammed.
‘Keep your positions!’ ordered Sandra and the two girls did as they were told.
Reaper had fully recovered, but at this moment was redundant and very proud of the way the women had reacted and continued to act. They heard a car engine revving through its gears and getting louder from the top of the street and a Range Rover suddenly appeared, driving along Northgate. Kate immediately opened fire and got three shots away, obviously with good effect, as they heard the car crash. Reaper pushed his carbine into Shaggy’s hands and began to run.
As he ran, he pulled a Glock from its holster and racked the slide. He didn’t hesitate at the corner, but went straight around. The Range Rover had piled into an abandoned lorry. The front was mangled and the driver trapped. If he’d had a passenger, he was gone.
The driver was conscious but had no visible weapon in his hands, and there was no sign of anyone else on the street.
Reaper slowed to a walk alongside the vehicle. One of Kate’s shots had put the driver’s side window through. Maybe that had caused him to lose control.
He cocked the gun and placed the muzzle against the man’s head. The man stopped moaning and trying to free himself. He raised his hands in surrender.
‘How many of you?’
‘Four.’
‘Where’s the fourth?’
‘He did a runner. The bastard did a runner.’
‘What is Muldane’s Army?’
‘Major Muldane. He’s building an army.’
‘And Muldane’s volunteers?’
‘The volunteers? Well, they’re the women.’
‘How many men are in his army?’
‘Thirty, forty.’ The longer the conversation was going on, the more comfortable the man was becoming. ‘Look, you’d be welcome. Well looked after. We’ve got drones to do the work, and the volunteer women, well . . .
for other things, if you know what I mean?’
‘I know what you mean. Drones?’
‘Yeh. Blokes who do the work. Non-military types.
You’d be all right. One of the soldiers. Officer material.’
Reaper scanned the inside of the car and saw no weapons. A car started in a street not far away and drove off without coming into sight.
‘Bastard!’ breathed the man, in a last curse at his former comrade-in-arms.
‘Where’s Muldane?’
‘Whitby. He owns the town. He’s got a sweet set-up.
Look, you really would be welcome. What do you say?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Reaper. He pulled the trigger and the interior of the Range Rover got an instant re-spray.
When he turned round, Shaggy was on the other side of the street, holding the carbine nervously, watching him. Reaper holstered the handgun and walked to him. He took the carbine and said, ‘Thanks, Shaggy.’
‘I didn’t do anything.’
‘You tried to warn us. That’s enough. How’s Elaine?’
They began to walk back to the girls.
‘A lot better. Me, too. I don’t drink as much anymore, man.’ There was a pause and he said, ‘We buried the baby.’ Reaper stopped walking as Shaggy explained what had happened. ‘I persuaded her it would be best.
We took her to a church and I dug a grave, made a cross. It helped. She’s not completely okay, but she’s better.’
‘That’s good. You’re a good man, Shaggy.’
‘Just don’t tell anybody, okay?’
They rejoined the girls who were still taking precautions by staying in cover, but Reaper accepted what the man had said. He told the girls and Shaggy what he knew, and then they scouted across the road. They found a dead man in an upstairs office that was filled with champagne bottles. His weapons were gone. The man Jenny had shot running across the road had a Beretta in his hand, which they took.
‘They were mad trying to take us down,’ Sandra said.
‘They were possibly drunk, and they didn’t want to take you down. Just me,’ said Reaper. ‘With the capes on, maybe they didn’t appreciate what we were carrying. Maybe they thought that once I was dead, you girls would squeal and give up.’
Sandra growled.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Fat chance. You were brilliant.’
‘What about this Major Muldane?’ Jenny said.
‘Let’s hope he stays in Whitby.’
They checked on Ferguson and Dr Malone and the group at the castle. They had heard shots the day before and had been careful not to light any fires that might have given away their position.
‘We stayed put and hoped whoever it was would move on,’ said Ferguson.
Reaper said, ‘There’s strength in numbers. You might want to reconsider joining us.’
‘I think we’ll stay on our own for now,’ he said.
‘If any here want to join you, they’re free to do so.
But I think we’ve made progress. There are twenty-four of us now, and it would be a shame to abandon what we’ve started. We need diversification, afte
r all.’
Reaper nodded and looked at Dr Malone but she simply shrugged. Her loyalty, for now, remained with her own group.
Shaggy and Elaine returned to Haven with them.
Their luggage included two guitar cases and an amp.
He had started playing music again. Sandra didn’t choose a dress. The entire group’s mood was sombre – the girls perhaps reflecting on what they had done, the men they had killed, and all too aware that the threat of Muldane’s Army would one day have to be faced.
The wedding went ahead on Sunday, under a blue sky.
Everyone sensed it was a special occasion, not just for Sandra and Jamie but because it was the first wedding at Haven; the first of the new beginning.
Almost everyone attended from the extended community, as well as a group from Scarborough Castle.
Only the two guards that Reaper insisted stay on duty at the mobile home were absent. The threat from up the coast made him take extra care. Two guards with trail bikes, brought in by Pete, were positioned in the trees on the hill overlooking the gates. The sign outside that had said The Haven had been removed. There were no indications that the estate was occupied and a casual driver might go past without suspecting what was inside.
Sandra had gone to Bridlington, further down the coast and another twenty miles away from Whitby, this time with Kate, on a swift trip to find a dress.
Reaper had been ostensibly happy to watch them go but, as soon as they were out of sight, he had headed for the town on a motorbike by an alternative route and had been their friendly stalker – just in case. They never knew he had been there.
She wore a simple knee-length white silk dress, high heels and a radiant smile. Jamie wore a tan linen suit and white shirt, but without the formality of a tie.
Pete Mack was his best man. Reaper gave the bride away and for once was without any weapons. He wore a dark blue shirt and slacks. He felt uncomfortable in normal clothes, but this was a special occasion.
The Reverend Nick conducted a short but moving service in the dining room before a makeshift altar – a table covered in a white cloth, upon which was a cross taken from a deserted church. Shaggy had been an active participant, too. Pete had brought an upright piano and the rock musician played The Wedding March as Sandra walked down the aisle on Reaper’s arm. In the past, it would normally have been played after the ceremony, but they were breaking new ground anyway, so who cared? After the ceremony, Shaggy played and sang the Beatles’ song All You Need Is Love and everyone joined in. Sandra and Jamie couldn’t stop laughing and smiling as they walked out arm in arm. Even Reaper grinned.
Drinks were served at the pub while the dining room in the manor house was swiftly converted back to its original purpose, and a buffet, organised and supervised by Jean, was laid out. Kate sat with Reaper on the top table. While the usual speeches were made, there were untypical variations, inevitably making reference to all that had happened. It was a memorable day, but Reaper was glad to be able to change back into fatigues by escaping to the bedroom above the pub he shared with Kate when he was not on duty in the mobile home.
Recorded music was playing, couples were dancing, people were drinking, the day was waning. The happy pair had disappeared to consummate their vows.
Reaper was relaxed and content. Nevertheless, he was about to arm himself and go over the hill to relieve Pete and Arif, when there was a scream from the barn.
Heads turned, many in the crowd probably dismissed it as youthful exuberance from the younger elements, but the tone of the cry alerted Reaper. Seven-year-old Emma stumbled into view, paused, to adjust her clothes, and then ran, shouting for Ruth between her sobs.
Ruth, who had become her surrogate mother, broke from the crowd in wide-eyed panic, dropping a glass.
The girl rushed into her arms.
Reaper ran past them to the barn. The main door was round the corner. It was closed, but the smaller access door was open. He went through it and found Ashley pinning a flushed Jason Houseman against the wall, with one big hand around his throat. Houseman’s trousers were unfastened. Ashley was bristling with fury and from the colour of Houseman’s face, was on the brink of strangling him. Reaper was inclined to let him.
‘The bastard,’ Ashley said. ‘He was . . .’
‘I know,’ said Reaper. ‘I saw Emma. She’s okay, Ash.’
The Reverend Nick joined them.
‘Let him go, Ashley. You’re choking him.’
Ashley took a deep breath and let him go. Houseman fell to the floor, gasped for breath and fumbled to fasten his trousers.
‘You’re lucky Pete’s not here,’ Reaper said. ‘He’d rip your head off.’
‘There’s been a mistake,’ Houseman whined. ‘You’ve got it wrong! I was having a pee. I didn’t know the little girl was there.’
Ashley kicked him and he doubled over.
‘You lying scumbag!’ Ash said. ‘I saw you.’
Nick stepped in between them. He looked desperately into the angry man’s face.
‘Are you sure there was no mistake?’
‘There was no mistake. Ask Emma.’
Reaper said, ‘We don’t need to. But we do need to get rid of this piece of rubbish.’
‘What? You’ll take his word instead of mine?’
Now Reaper kicked Houseman hard in the ribs and Nick didn’t know where to stand to protect him.
‘Look, this can’t be solved by kicking him from pillar to post.’
‘And how can it be solved, Reverend?’ asked Reaper.
Others had now gathered at the door and the mood was becoming ugly.
‘ Banishment,’ said Nick. ‘We kick him out, right now. So he can do no more harm.’
‘Until he finds another child,’ said Reaper.
He and the cleric exchanged stares. Nick read Reaper’s intention in his eyes.
‘No, Reaper,’ he said. ‘We have not yet descended to the level of beasts.’
‘It seems some of us have,’ Reaper said.
‘We banish him. Now. And I’ll escort him from Haven myself.’
Reaper knew he could sway the crowd but he didn’t want to turn a group of honest citizens into a lynch mob. They had to believe in a better tomorrow. He would have preferred to deal with Houseman on his own, quietly, well away from Haven, with a bullet in the back of his head. Perhaps he still could.
‘Okay, Reverend. Get him out of here. Right now.’
He turned and walked away back to the pub, where he armed himself, watched by Kate who, like everyone else, now knew what had happened.
‘What are you going to do?’ she said.
‘You know what I’m going to do.’
He slung the carbine over his shoulder and began to run up the hill. Pete Mack came riding a trail bike towards him. He braked, the engine growling vigorously beneath him.
‘Is it true?’
‘It’s true, but Ash stopped it before much happened.’
‘I’ll kill the bastard.’
‘That’s my job, Pete. Nick says he should be banished.
That’s okay by me. Just give me the bike. I’ll follow him and make sure the banishment is permanent.’
Pete hesitated.
‘Come on. Ruth and Emma need you now. I’ll take care of it. Just don’t tell Nick where I’ve gone.’
Pete got off the bike and Reaper got astride it, revved the engine, engaged gear and turned it back up and over the hill. He cruised into the shadows of the trees by the mobile home command post. James Marshall was with Arif. He had run to alert Pete. Arif was full of questions that Reaper answered briefly. The young men were as outraged as Pete and Ash, and as convinced as to the course of action that should be taken.
‘Go open the gate, Arif,’ Reaper said. ‘And when he’s through, I’ll follow.’
Arif rode the other trail bike down to the gate and did as he was instructed. He waited, sitting astride the bike. About fifteen minutes later, the Range Rover that Houseman had arri
ved in, came over the hill, its lights on in the gloom. It drove straight through the gates and turned left. Reaper let out the clutch and followed. Arif tipped a finger to his baseball cap in salute as he went past. Reaper kept his lights switched off.
The vehicle turned left again onto the main road to Scarborough and Reaper judged they were by now far enough away for justice to be dispensed. He put on the bike lights, flashed them at the Range Rover, and accelerated past. He waved his left arm like a traffic cop and slowed to a stop. The car stopped behind him and he got off the machine and walked back, his right hand on the butt of a Glock. The car door opened and Nick got out.
‘Don’t argue, Nick. This has to be,’ Reaper said, and then realised no one else was in the car. ‘Where is he?’
‘I sent him out the back way, past Inglewood Farm,’
said Nick. ‘I knew you’d be waiting.’
Reaper said nothing. He bit back his anger at the meddling cleric. He turned away without another word and got back on the bike, started the engine and turned it round to race back as fast as it would go, to try to pick up Houseman’s trail.
He hurtled past the entrance to Haven, round to the rear access of the property. He had the choice of three routes. He took the first, but after five miles of hurtling along lanes, he gave up. He found a hill and drove across a field to its crest and looked out over the plain for a sign of car lights. There were none. If Houseman had any sense he would have anticipated pursuit and gone as fast as he could, to get as far away as possible. By now he would be safe from retribution.
245
Chapter 13
REAPER WAS STILL ANGRY THE NEXT DAY: angry at Houseman’s attempted assault and escape; and angry at himself because he had not returned to Filey to make a further attempt to talk to Crackpot Charlie Miller to discover what he knew about Houseman.
Now was the time to rectify the omission.
Sandra drove slowly down the main street of the town towards the sea front. She stopped the MPV
when they reached the side road into which they had turned previously, after the warning shot had been fired. Ahead of them, the road was still blocked by the lorry parked broadside. Reaper got out of the car, wearing his sidearms. Both his and Sandra’s carbines were in the back of the car beneath a blanket. From the car, he took a pole on which was attached a white pillow case. He held this above his head. So far, no one had shot at him.
