Blood Ties

by JD Nixon

The Sarge told me that the judge had ordered quiet in the courtroom, but it still took a few minutes before the Bycrafts settled down, only the threat of being forcibly removed inclining them towards finally becoming silent. The hearing had proceeded as normal. The charges had been read out, the men, as expected, all pleaded not guilty, and the defence lawyer requested bail. Pinky had opposed bail vehemently on the grounds of the seriousness of the attack, the clear intent to assault, the ongoing threat to me, and specifically for Red, the fact that he was already on parole when the assault occurred.

  As I stood in the witness stand, Red’s amused reptilian eyes remained set on me the whole time, his lazy confident smile threatening to derail my barely-held calm demeanour. Whenever I felt it slipping away, I looked over at the Sarge and Fiona, who smiled or nodded supportively at me, and I regained it again. The judge listened politely to my evidence, regarded my injuries with a grave face, shaking his head with obvious sympathy, asked me a few clarifying questions, and my ordeal was over. Red winked at me, kissed the air and waggled his tongue indecently as I approached the men to leave the courtroom.

  I did what I was good at and I blanked him, not making eye contact nor giving any indication I’d seen what he’d done. That was my mistake, because I should have kept a close watch on him the whole way. As I walked past him, a loud clatter broke the hush in the courtroom and someone from the gallery called my name in panic. I think it might have been the Sarge. I glanced up at him, but the next thing I knew, a strong arm was crushing my throat and I was hauled backwards up against a man’s hard body. A prick of something sharp in my neck drew some blood and a trickle of it tickled me as it meandered down towards my chest, reminding me of my dream the night before. Instinctively I reached for my knife, but of course I wasn’t wearing it.

  The three police officers in the courtroom with me all jumped to their feet in alarm, hands on their guns. Court security stiffened in alertness, their hands heading for their buzzers.

  “Nobody do anything reckless,” warned a voice. My instant emotion after the initial shock was fear, because Red Bycraft finally had his hands on me. “If you do, I’ll be forced to do something awful to our lovely Tessie and I would just hate to have to do that after everything else she’s suffered.” His low, dirty laugh gave immediate lie to that statement.

  He leaned his head down and licked the blood from my neck with unhurried relish, giving another laugh as he did. The touch of his tongue on my skin made me shudder with disgust.

  “Mmm, I can’t get enough of my lovely piglet’s blood. I need more.” He turned to his brother. “Karl! Haul arse!”

  He took the hand holding the knife away from me for a second, tightening his grip around my neck in compensation. He shook his sleeve and another knife fell to the floor from his suit. Karl swooped down and picked it up. Where the hell did they get the knives?

  Red was choking me so hard that I was struggling to breathe. I fought against him, tearing at his arm with my hands, trying to loosen his grip and lashing out wildly, kicking backwards at his legs with my boot in desperation. He merely laughed in response and jabbed me hard enough in the neck with the knife that I thought twice about continuing. The trickle of blood had turned into a creek.

  “I will slit your throat right here in front of everyone if you don’t start behaving yourself, Tessie,” he whispered in my ear. “Is that how you want to die? It’s not how I want you to die. It’s not how I plan for you to die.”

  I stopped struggling and concentrated on calming myself down, because I was in danger of hyperventilating with fear. I centred my thinking – my safety was up to me now, nobody else. My life was in my hands and my hands only. That was a lesson hard learned from my tough-as-nails ex-SAS martial arts teacher during my teenage years, and I’d never forgotten anything he’d ever said to me. Not one word.

  Karl pulled my handcuffs from my belt and clapped my wrists together at my front, then retrieved my gun, handing it to Red, who swapped it for his knife. Karl handed Red’s knife down the line to Al, leaving only Grae unarmed.

  “Listen up, people!” Red shouted to the court. “Officer Tess here has kindly agreed to act as our hostage to help us escape. What a fucking sweetie.”

  He kissed the side of my mouth and dropped his hand from my throat down to cup my right breast. I recoiled with revulsion at his intimate touch, making him laugh again.

  “You are all going to back off and give us plenty of freedom to get out of this place. Let me make myself clear – any heroics will cost Tessie her life. On the other hand, getting out of here without any bother will put me in such a good mood that you might even get her back alive. Badly roughed up and fucked half to death for sure, but still alive.”

  His deep, evil chuckle threatened to turn my bones to jelly. He kneaded my breast ungently, squeezing my nipple hard between his fingers. I tensed, shutting my eyes, trying not to react. But then he bit me hard on the shoulder, near my neck. I flinched, involuntarily crying out loudly in pain, and he laughed once more. He loved to get a response from me.

  Red suddenly twisted, shoving me forward to the back of the courtroom, towards the judge’s door. Karl yanked on the handcuffs from the front as well, and I stumbled as my feet tripped over each other in my boots. Red’s arm tightening around my neck was the only thing that stopped me from falling to the ground. I choked, spluttering in despair, trying to draw oxygen into my lungs.

  “Stop . . .” I gasped. I wouldn’t beg though. Not him. Never.

  He righted me and released his arm enough for me to draw in huge gulps of wonderful, beautiful, welcome oxygen.

  “Careful, Tessie,” he whispered warningly in my ear. “You don’t want me thinking that you’re trying to escape, do you?”

  My eyes roamed the room frantically and images flashed into my view as we moved together – the judge’s scared immobile face; Fiona furiously yelling into her phone; a pale, grim-faced Sarge moving forward stealthily, his gun trained on us, tracking us as we went. Bum appeared confused as usual looking around him frowning; the court security officers seethed with frustration; Lola Bycraft grinned from ear to ear; Rosie Bycraft stood watching, a self-satisfied smile on her lips; Valerie Bycraft still wept; while Dorrie Lebutt and Rick Bycraft tongue-kissed each other, oblivious to everyone else. Other Bycrafts were merely a blur of cheering faces and waving arms.

  The five of us left the courtroom in a huddle and moved into a hallway running along the back of the courthouse. To the right were the judge’s chambers and other offices, to the left the exit to the back carpark that was reserved for staff only. We went left, followed at a distance by the Sarge, Fiona, Bum and the court security.

  We stepped outside the courthouse just in time for Greg Bycraft to pull up in one family member’s rattly clunker. I was too tense and panicky to identify whose it was at that moment, but it was old and rusty like all of them. He left the keys in the ignition, engine running and jumped out, clapping his brothers Al and Grae on the shoulders, laughing with admiring approval at his relatives’ daring escape. Greg spat on me in contempt as he disappeared around the front of the courthouse, his spittle dripping off my chin on to my shirt. “Make sure you give her a dose of hard cock for me,” were his parting words, thrown over his shoulder. “The bitch has been asking for it for years.”

  There was one thing I was sure of at this moment that would prove fatally hazardous to my life expectancy, and that was for me to get into a car with four Bycraft men. I simply wasn’t going to do it, even if it meant that they killed me right here in this carpark, this afternoon. I’d rather be killed in an honest fight in front of witnesses than be repeatedly gang raped and tortured to death by them, my body dumped somewhere afterwards like a piece of garbage.

  I thought sadly of Dad and Jake, of Abe, Romi and Toni, of Miss Chooky and my other hens, and of my girlfriends. I was going to miss my life.

  I sent a silent prayer up to my mother and Nana Fuller who had both died trying to protect me and to
my friend Marcelle, who’d died in my place, telling them I’d see them soon. I only hoped that they all thought I’d acquitted myself in life to a standard worthy of their own sacrifices. I’d fought the Bycrafts like a demon because of them and I’d been a cat with nine lives, but it seemed that today all my lives were finally up. By God though, I was going out with a fight and maybe I’d be able to take one or two of those Bycraft bastards with me as I went.

  The others had come to the door by then and I could hear sirens sounding in the distance. They would be too late to save me. I looked over and smiled sorrowfully at Fiona – she had always been a good friend to me. I nodded at Bum and exchanged a regretful glance with the Sarge, noting with some surprise the fierce expression of frustrated distress on his face. I’d never get to know him better now, would never know if I liked him or not, whether we made a good team. I winked at him, wishing I hadn’t been so quick to judge him. He winked in return and turned his back on me, as if unable to face what was coming.

  My phone rang. “Let me get that, Red,” I begged. “It’s Jakey. He promised he’d ring me after my testimony. It might be the last time I ever get to speak to him.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please,” I begged, hating myself.

  He glanced at his relatives.

  “Think of how upset he’ll be not to speak to me for the last time,” I cajoled desperately. “He’ll never forgive you.”

  Everybody in the Bycraft family loved Jake unreservedly and Red was no different. Jake didn’t backstab his relatives, didn’t sleep with his brothers’ partners, didn’t cheat his family members and was always there if someone needed help. He’d helped Red out hundreds of times with no expectation (or hope) of return. He was the family’s golden boy and was one of the few of her children that Lola Bycraft genuinely loved. Red wouldn’t want Jake to hate him. Nobody would.

  “Make it quick,” he relented, with wary reluctance.

  “Can you undo the cuffs?”

  “Not going to happen,” he laughed, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand with unexpected gentleness. “Nice try though, lovely.”

  Karl let go of the handcuffs and Red covered me closely with his gun as I awkwardly reached into my pocket with my clamped hands, pulled out my ringing phone and answered.

  “Hello, Jakey,” I said in my most loving voice, trying to control the tremble in my voice. “Yes, I’m with Red and the other guys. No, I’m okay. For now. I’m sure they’ll look after me well.” Red snorted with laughter. “I love you too, honey-boy . . . What? . . . Oh, okay.”

  I looked up at Red, holding out my phone. “Jakey wants to talk to you.”

  Biting back his impatience to get moving, Red took the phone and answered. “What do you want, Jakey? Hello? . . . What? . . . Who the fuck is this?”

  While he was momentarily distracted, I rammed my body into him as hard as I could, knocking him off his feet and the gun out of his hand. I made a run for it, kicking out viciously at Grae who tried to grab me and just dodging Al who slashed out at me with his knife. I vaulted and rolled over the bonnet of the nearest parked car, landing hard on my side, winded, my heart pounding.

  “You fucking bitch! You lied to me!” Red screamed, jumping up and retrieving the gun, hurling the phone in my general direction, oddly upset by my deceit. The phone bounced off the car, frightening me with the noise and leaving a small dent behind in the roof. I hoped the Sarge had hung up before he copped that racket in his ear.

  Duck-walking with some difficulty and keeping low, I edged along the side of the car before standing up and dashing quickly to one further away. Red shot wildly at me as I ran, rage twisting his face. He missed me by miles, the bullet smashing into the windscreen of a small white Holden parked at the opposite end of the carpark from me. He was a terrible shot and there were going to be some pissed off car owners around after he was finished today.

  The sirens grew closer. Al, glancing around him in panic, realised the futility of trying to recapture me and focused on escaping instead. He jumped into the idling car and drove towards the exit, not even stopping to shut the driver’s door or to wait for his brother and cousins. Red, enraged by the sight of that disloyalty, shot off a bullet with surprising accuracy for him, hitting Al in the arm. Al howled in pain and the car swerved dangerously, collecting Karl as it did, flinging him over the bonnet. Karl landed awkwardly on the bitumen and we all cringed when we heard the crunch of something breaking. Judging by the way he was lying on the ground, curled into a ball, screaming in agony, his leg sticking out at an odd angle, that something was Karl’s leg.

  The car kept swerving before it smashed into what could only be the judge’s silver Mercedes.

  Grae decided to cut his losses and made a run for it in the opposite direction. The Sarge pounded after him.

  Red pulled a screaming Al from the car and threw him to the bitumen, jumping into the car himself, slamming the door. He reversed hard, almost running over his own injured brother as he did, and sped towards the carpark exit.

  I made the mistake of standing up then and Red fired the rest of the clip in my direction, forcing me to hit the ground again hastily. He threw the gun at me once it was empty. The last I saw of him was the car speeding through a red light, forcing a late model Nissan Patrol to veer wildly to avoid a collision with him and jump the curb, smashing into a small brick fence.

  The Inspector and Bum raced out to cover Al and Karl, just in time for the backups to arrive. Fiona handed over to a couple of uniforms and sought me out where I was huddled on the bitumen, leaning up against a car, giving thanks to every deity I could name that I was still breathing after that madness. She hauled me to my feet, freed me from the handcuffs and hugged me fiercely.

  “Jesus, Tessie! I thought we’d fucking lost you that time for good. Christ! Fuck! Look at me. I’m a fucking blubbering mess. Have you got a tissue on you?”

  I dug in my pockets and found one for her. She quickly mopped her eyes dry of their lightly damp mist, not even enough moisture to form one full teardrop, her back to everyone else as she did.

  Geez, I could teach her how to cry properly, I thought in amusement. A few moments later she was as dry-eyed and hard-faced as normal. As for me, for some inexplicable reason I felt like laughing, but I was afraid that if I started I might never stop. I probably needed some counselling after today, but I knew I wouldn’t seek any. I hadn’t ever before.

  We walked back to the action. A couple of the uniforms had headed over to the distraught and tearful soccer mum who’d been driving the now-damaged Patrol, worrying about what her husband was going to say; two patrol cars had sped off after Red, lights flashing and sirens blaring; Al and Karl were being given some first aid before the paramedics arrived; and the Sarge was dragging a struggling Grae back towards one of the remaining patrol cars.

  “All’s well that ends well, ma’am,” I said light-heartedly, then without any warning, turned and threw up over the front tyre of the judge’s smashed Mercedes.

  “Aw, fucking hell, Tess! You spewed on my shoes,” she grumbled, looking down at her expensive Italian leather before dragging me away from the mess.

  “Sorry, ma’am. That took me by surprise,” I admitted, embarrassed, wiping my mouth on another tissue. I was weak and trembling after all of that. I needed to sit down.

  “I guess anyone would want to chuck after having Red Bycraft licking you and biting you and feeling up your tit in public.”

  Queasiness rolled over me again. She called for one of the uniforms to go find my gun and he dutifully hunted it down and returned it to me.

  When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics gave me the once-over. They patched up the wound on my neck that Red had caused with his knife and repatched my knees that were weeping through the bandages after I had abused them so much. I waved them away after that because I already had so many bruises, bumps and cuts that the few extra I’d received today were hardly worth bothering about. They recommended that I take
some of the strong painkillers that Dr Fenn had given me the other day as soon as possible. I assured them that was the first thing I planned on doing when I arrived home.

  Exhausted and drained of all emotion, I leaned against the brick wall of the courthouse, closing my eyes. A gentle hand on my shoulder made my eyes fly open in alarm, my hand reaching for my empty gun. It was only the Sarge.

  “Hey, Tess.”

  “Hey, Sarge,” I said tiredly, body relaxing again.

  “You okay?” He smiled as he said it to let me know he was joking.

  “I’ll live,” I replied, a faint grimace the best expression I could muster.

  “Come on, I’ll take you back to the station. You don’t need to hang around here. Everything’s under control and you’ve done enough for one day.”

  We received Fiona’s approval to scarper and he drove me back to the station.

  I was subdued. “Red Bycraft escaped. I hope we find him soon, otherwise I’ll be looking over my shoulder all the time.”

  He responded with certainty. “They’ll find him.”

  I wished I shared his confidence. I leaned against the headrest, trying to find a comfortable position to accommodate my new neck wound. Oh, forget it, I told myself. There were no comfortable positions for me.

  I pondered out loud. “How did Red get the knives? I know they’re slack around here compared to the city, but surely the prisoners are searched before going into court at least?”

  We both puzzled over that until the Sarge realised that there had probably been more than simple affection being transferred from Lola to Red when she’d hugged him so tightly and whispered into his ear. She’d obviously been pushing a knife up each of his sleeves. And it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to smuggle the knives in – the Big Town courthouse wasn’t the most vigilant in the state about security for the public.

  “What a day,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

  He suddenly wrenched the steering wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road, jumping out without any explanation. He strode into a small corner store. He wasn’t gone long and when he returned he threw a packet of Tim Tams on to my lap and rejoined the traffic flow, without saying a word.