Chapter
Forty
Dorcas could not believe the things that Frannie’s body was doing. But the Englishwoman was stoic, kept at it, despite everything she’d been through. Dorcas gripped her hand and made every pant with her. Stefan said it was important to carry on breathing otherwise you’d run out of strength. It felt as though she was about to give birth as well.
Stefan seemed happier now he’d decided to give himself up. He was guiding Frannie through the process every step of the way. He didn’t think he should have ever got involved in the organ-trafficking shit. He’d told them that he’d tried to get out of it, but apparently Hugo had threatened to kill him.
She didn’t like to think of Hans’s murder. Nor why Lars had done it. Now she’d got at the truth she was still confused about what to do – about the baby, about her life. Her head was in such a mess, she didn’t know what to do with her thoughts. Frannie’s grunts were now animal-like and she was gripping so hard it was like being pinched. It felt as though some force was melding them together.
Now she had water to stave off her aching thirst, Frannie felt that she could keep pace with the contractions without going under. As long as she remembered to relax between every contraction, and steady her ragged breaths, she could keep going. But it was like surfing: you had the knowledge that at any point a huge wave could knock you down and then you’d go under. She didn’t want to think about whining helplessly in agony with no resolve to fight back.
The fresh scent of the night invigorated her. She kept looking at the outline of what must be a hunter’s moon. It blinked back at her, constant. She gazed at the expanse of sky, trembled at the infinity of nature that made her great struggle seem of no consequence. But Dorcas was at her side, and so she rallied and gathered all the resources she could muster for that last agonising push. This must be the ring of fire.
At one fifty-five a.m., Frannie let out a long scream. With a little slip, the baby burst out of her all covered in goo and blood. Frannie’s back arched monstrously. But then he was on her chest, a perfect baby boy, making little squalling noises.
Dorcas felt as if her heart would burst. She touched his foot, just marvelled.
Frannie gave her a tired but contented smile.
‘Why don’t you move in with me for a while?’ said Dorcas suddenly. It felt like the right thing. And this time Frannie’s grin was heartfelt.
Two ambulances drove up. Even Tomek was smiling now that rescue was imminent.
‘I’m going to call him Tom, OK?’ she said.
The ambulance personnel were horrified to find a third injured person, Hugo, still conked out.
‘Let the police deal with him,’ said Dorcas to them abrasively. ‘Or I could get a bucket of cold water.’ She climbed into the ambulance. She held Frannie’s hand.
‘I’ll have to tell Kurt,’ said Frannie. ‘He has a right to know, and to visit his son as he grows up.’ She looked wistful. But then she started to smile. ‘But I’m not going back to him. You and I should stick together.’
‘Alright,’ said Dorcas casually. ‘There goes my Ordnung!’ They both started to laugh. For the first time in months, Frannie finally felt everything was going to turn out well. Her beautiful new baby boy was just perfect, snuggled up in her arms. A sense of euphoria enveloped her. Now her real life could begin.
Epilogue
Finally, Lars was where he felt most at ease, on a strip of empty Autobahn. The road opened out for him like the unfolding of his dreams. He had the radio turned on full, shouting the song out into the night through the open windows. The truck was going as fast as it could. He was exhilarated, happy as he had ever been. It was like being in the zone, but he was calmer; this was the Zen mode.
He went even faster. Damn, this was good. The high hum of the engine sang as he abruptly changed course and forced the truck at full throttle towards a massive concrete post. The wind seemed to propel him towards it and he knew he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.
The eager rush to meet his maker……
Acknowledgements
Dear Reader, thanks for picking up my debut novel! It has only been possible thanks to my amazing editor Matthew Smith who gave me the chance to get my story out there when so many editors found it too dark. The process of writing a novel is never a solitary one, and I am indebted to the many individuals who helped by providing encouragement or gave many hours of their time answering questions for research.
Firstly thanks to editor Maxim Jakubowski who persuaded me to try writing a thriller novel. Creative writing tutor Dennis Foley of writers.com was instrumental in getting me to write more words per day. Kevin Mullins spent many hours listening to me talk about the characters as if they were real people. Author and creative writing tutor Ashley Lister looked at an early draft of the beginning and showed me how to make it sparkle.
For advice on police procedure, thanks to Scotty, a retired police officer from the Midlands. Security advice was given by John Carter, a security officer who once worked in a haunted shopping centre. The low-down on driving was provided by Worcester taxi driver and lorry driver Ted Morris. US professional barman Dennis Miles revealed what goes on behind closed doors at exclusive nightclubs and former veterinary practitioner Steve Jones and Dr William Burke made sure any scenes involving bloodletting were accurate. My thanks to Joffer, who provided background information on Afghanistan and on working conditions for soldiers on the front line. All the usage of German language was thoroughly checked by lawyer and academic Professor Veith Mehde of Leibniz University. My old friend veteran designer Mark Cox did the stunning cover design. Guido Schicksnus made the promotional video and Tanja Schicknus handed out hundreds of promotional postcards in Germany. My chiropractor Malte Mittermeier and old friends Chris Brock and David Johnson were supportive in my path to publication.
Finally, thanks to my US agent, Don Fehr, who was interested in Night Driver when it was just a partial. Thanks to my husband Ingo for his support and my son Eric for being understanding. However, this novel would never have even got started if my daughter Scarlet hadn’t slept so well as a baby, thus giving me the time and energy to begin….
Marcelle Perks is a British author and journalist living in Germany. She specializes in writing sexually-themed guide books, but also writes short stories.
As a film journalist, she has contributed to such publications as British Horror Cinema, Fangoria, The Guardian and Kamera.
Night Driver is her debut novel.
You can find out more about Marcelle on her author website -marcelle.perks.com
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Table of Contents
Half-title Page
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Tw
enty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Night Driver Page 29
