Retribution

by Heather Atkinson

  Fortunately they knew which room Jules was in as the curtains were open and they could see her through the window, frowning down at the book in her lap. Mikey Maguire had been in to visit her and they’d dived into some bushes when he’d left, both wetting their pants that he’d see them but he hadn’t even noticed. Now visiting time was over they felt it safe to make their move. The only question was, how did they get in without being noticed? They knew where all the CCTV cameras were so there was no chance of them being caught on that.

  The answer presented itself in the form of the door to the boiler room in the basement, directly above which were the patients’ rooms.

  Charlie and Rob snuck inside, glad of the warmth after being stuck outside in the cold gardens and came to a sudden halt.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” they said in unison.

  Pat Evans and Sam Williams were dressed in the same uniforms, their ears pressed to the door.

  “We could ask you the same thing,” said Pat, straightening up to glare at them.

  “We’re here to get rid of that stabby bitch once and for all,” said Charlie.

  “Us too,” said Pat.

  The four men glared at each other.

  “Why don’t we work together?” said Charlie, breaking the tense silence. “We all want revenge, we can help each other.”

  “Well…okay,” said Pat. “But I want my fun too.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He produced a scalpel from inside his jacket. “I’m going to slice that cow’s face up good and proper. When I’m done her own family won’t recognise her. You?”

  Charlie nodded at Rob, who produced a ligature. “Strangle her then cut off her fingers and toes, while she can’t make any noise.”

  “Nice,” said Pat. “Quiet too.”

  “We can take turns keeping an eye out in the corridor and let the others know when someone’s coming,” said Charlie. “Just as long as you don’t go too far and kill her before we’ve had our fun.”

  “As if,” said Pat with a rattlesnake smile. “So, are we on?”

  Charlie and Rob looked at each other and nodded.

  “Yeah,” said Charlie.

  CHAPTER 13

  Steve - the barman of the pub Charlie and his friends frequented - brazenly strode through the front door of the care home struggling beneath the weight of a large box of medical supplies. He plonked it down before the reception desk, puffing and panting.

  “Alright love?” he said to the receptionist. He wore a baseball cap with the peak pulled down low, brown contact lenses and false bushy eyebrows. His face had been padded out too, altering it, making it difficult for him to be recognised and he’d padded out his body too beneath the bottle green uniform of the firm who delivered the home’s medical supplies.

  “We’re not expecting a delivery today,” she replied.

  Steve shrugged. “I just do as I’m told love and I was told to bring this here today.”

  “What is it?”

  “Incontinence pads. I’ve got three more boxes on the van. Where do you want them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll just leave them here then,” he said, gesturing to the middle of the floor.

  “You can’t do that, it’s against health and safety. Anyone could fall over them and I can’t move them, it’s against the rules.”

  “Look, I’m on a schedule here. There’s people all over this city needing their adult nappies so can we move this along?”

  Her lips pursed at his snippy tone. “Please don’t speak to me like that. I’ll go and talk to Sister, she might know.”

  “You do that and in the meantime, I’ll bring in the rest.”

  “Oh…fine but don’t leave them right in the middle of the floor. Stack them over there,” she said, gesturing to the side of the room.

  “Will do,” he said, turning to leave as she got up from behind the reception desk and disappeared through a side door leading deeper into the care home.

  He hurried around the desk, studying the list with the patients’ names and room number. That biker slag Jules was in room seven, at the back of the building. Perfect. He would have liked to give her a long, lingering death but only an idiot would try for that in this place when a nurse could come in at any moment. All he wanted was for her to know that he was the one bringing her death. He reached inside his jacket to touch the pistol nestled there, complete with silencer.

  He returned to the white van he’d left parked out front and brought in two more boxes, dumping them with the first box then got back in his van before the receptionist returned and sped off down the drive. Leaving his vehicle parked a street away he hurried back into the care home via the gardens, creeping up to the back of the building. There she was, the bitch queen herself propped up in bed scowling at a book. She looked like death warmed up, skin pale and hanging off her bones. This was too easy.

  He drew the gun and raised his hand, ready to knock on the glass. He wanted to look into her eyes as he pulled the trigger.

  Steve ducked back down out of sight when the door to Jules’s room opened and in walked two nurses.

  “Bastard,” he hissed, pressing himself back against the wall.

  Charlie snuck out of the boiler room first, the others following him up the stairs. At the top he paused, pressing his ear to the door to listen.

  “Do you hear anything?” said Pat.

  “I might if you’d shut up.” He listened again. “No, I think it’s all clear.”

  Carefully he pushed open the door and looked left and right, but the corridor appeared to be empty. He slipped out of the door first, followed by Pat then Rob and finally Sam.

  Together they crept down the corridor, constantly looking around, afraid they would be discovered. One maintenance man would hardly draw a second glance but four would definitely be asked some awkward questions and Charlie realised how stupid his brainwave for them to join forces had actually been. Still, it was preferable to fighting Pat and Sam in the boiler room for the right to kill Jules Driscoll.

  “Someone’s coming,” whispered Sam at the end of the line when he heard a door open further down the corridor.

  Panicking, the four men split up, Charlie and Rob diving into one room, Pat and Sam the one opposite.

  “Phew,” said Charlie, relieved to see the patient on the bed was completely comatose, undisturbed by them barging into his room.

  “What now?” whispered Rob.

  Charlie pressed a finger to his lips, indicating he wanted him to shut the fuck up. They both listened as footsteps approached the room, both of them frantically praying they kept on going.

  “Sister,” called a female voice just outside the door. “A delivery’s arrived.”

  “Delivery? We’re not expecting a delivery,” said a deeper female voice.

  “I know. Incontinence pads.”

  Charlie glared at Rob when he sniggered.

  “I’ll come and sort it,” sighed the deeper voice.

  They listened as the sound of footsteps retreated away from the room, both of them breathing a sigh of relief.

  Charlie peeked his nose out the door to see Pat doing the same thing through the door opposite. They nodded at each other and continued on down the corridor, heading for Jules’s room.

  They all bolted again into different rooms when the door to Jules’s room opened. Fortunately the nurses didn’t notice as they were manoeuvring Jules out through the door in a wheelchair. Jules was sulking as they’d made her wear the hated bobble hat again.

  “When can I try walk?” she grumbled. “Don’t like sit down all the time.”

  “You start your physiotherapy tomorrow,” replied Catherine. “And you’re not to try walking without the physio’s say-so. You’ve got to have more patience Jules.”

  “Me no patience,” she frowned.

  “So I’ve heard. Be grateful you can go outside, unlike all the other patients.”

  Jules went quie
t, ashamed of herself. At least she’d woken up.

  When they’d gone outside the men emerged from their hiding places.

  “Oh marvellous,” said Pat. “What do we do now? She’s got a nurse with her and I don’t hurt nurses.”

  “Agreed,” said Charlie. “We need to lure her away from Jules.”

  “But how?” said Rob.

  Pat’s smile was sly. “I have an idea.”

  Steve watched Jules being wheeled through the gardens and he wanted to laugh out loud. This was karma. How many people had she crippled? He was almost tempted to leave her to her suffering but she might get better and if she did he’d never get near her, he was under no illusions that he was completely unequipped to take on Jules at full strength. Even with a gun he’d think twice about it. But this was easy pickings. Now he just needed to get her away from the nurse but nurses didn’t tend to leave vulnerable patients outside alone. Fortunately, after talking his plan over with men who were sneaky bastards for a living, he’d stuck a device in the boxes he’d left in reception to help him. He took the small device out of his pocket and pressed the button.

  “What are we supposed to do with those boxes?” sighed Sister. “The store room’s full and I didn’t order any more of these. We’ve got plenty.”

  “Shall I ring the delivery company?” said the receptionist.

  “Please Sandra. They’re a hazard sitting there.” Sister’s eyebrows shot up when smoke began emanating from the boxes. “Good God, they’re on fire.”

  While Sandra flapped behind the reception desk, unsure what to do, Sister yanked the fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed the boxes. Fortunately the smoke died away.

  “How did that happen?” she demanded. “They’re not close to any heat source.”

  Sandra’s reply was drowned out by the wail of the fire alarm.

  “Why is that going off?” said Sister. “I put the fire out before the smoke even reached the smoke alarms.”

  Sandra peered at the grid on the wall, informing them which alarm had been tripped. “It’s not the one in here, it’s the one in the corridor outside the patients’ rooms.”

  “Call the fire brigade,” said Sister before rushing back through the doors leading to the patients’ rooms, fire extinguisher at the ready. “Leanne,” she called when she spotted her heading into one of the rooms to evacuate. “Get Jules Driscoll out. Ambulatory patients first, remember?”

  “She’s already out,” she replied, eyes wide, eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline. “Catherine’s taken her out for a walk.”

  “Good. Then get the non-ambulatory out next. I’ll tackle the fire.”

  “Sister, no,” called Leanne but she ignored her and continued on down the corridor, seeing the smoke drifting out of the only vacant room in the home. She pressed her hand against the door to test it, relieved when it felt cool beneath her touch and pushed it open. This was her worst fear, a fire in this care home where ninety percent of their patients were unable to move, an evacuation nightmare. Their precautions against fire were second to none, the drills drummed into their staff from the moment they started working here. She was damned if this fire was going to leave this room.

  “What’s going on?” said Jules when the sound of the alarm echoed out of the building.

  “That’s the fire alarm,” said Catherine, anxiously chewing her lip.

  “A drill?”

  “One isn’t scheduled. Wait here, I won’t be long,” she said, steering her under the shelter of a pergola. “I need to help with the evacuation.”

  Jules could only watch helplessly as Catherine tore back up the path into the home, wishing she could help. Christ she hoped it wasn’t a big fire. The thought of all those coma patients vulnerable in their beds to flame and smoke broke her heart. She was the lucky one, already outside, safe. Although it was bloody cold.

  “Nice one Pat,” said Charlie.

  After starting the fire in the empty room, they’d snuck into Jules’s room, which sat at the very rear of the care home. They knew no one would come in here as she was already outside.

  “Perfect,” said Rob, opening a window, which was just wide enough for him to fit through.

  He jumped outside first, followed by Charlie, then Sam. However Pat was too bulky, his shoulders far too broad.

  “Shit,” he hissed, forced to jump back into the room.

  “You’ll have to go out and around,” said Sam.

  “Oh just fucking fabulous. Don’t you dare make a move without me,” he said, pointing at them in turn.

  “Course,” said Charlie dismissively. “Shut the window behind us.”

  Pat closed the window then hurried back out into the corridor, just in time to be confronted by Sister, cheeks stained with soot and sweating.

  “Ah, just the man,” she said.

  “Me?” said Pat, pointing at himself.

  “Yes you. You’re a maintenance man, aren’t you?”

  “Well…yeah,” he said, a little intimidated by her. She reminded him of a scary teacher he’d had at school, as well as his grandmother.

  “Excellent because I need something maintaining,” she said, steering him into the room where the fire had originated.

  Pat started to panic. He’d never been any good at DIY. Why hadn’t he come dressed as a delivery driver instead?

  “Looks like the fire was started by a faulty fan,” she said, indicating the melted lump of white plastic. “What it was doing switched on in an empty room in December I’ll never know. Get rid of it and redecorate this room. I’ll call the electrician to check the wiring, I’m taking no chances.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, hoping it didn’t show in his eyes that he knew much more about how that fire had started than he was letting on. “How do you want it redecorated?”

  “Well I thought we’d go for zebra prints and fluorescent orange,” she said.

  “Really?”

  “Of course not really. I want it magnolia, like it was before.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” he said, experiencing the pathetic need to please her.

  “Good.” She stepped out into the corridor, almost colliding with Catherine.

  “Nurse Callahan, please calm yourself.”

  “Sorry Sister,” said Catherine. “But Leanne said you’d gone in to tackle the blaze.”

  “I have and it’s out. I’ve got maintenance sorting out the room. Emergency over.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Where’s Jules?”

  “I left her in the shelter of the pergola, I didn’t want to bring her back inside if there was a fire.”

  “Quite right. Help Leanne bring the patient she’s evacuated back inside then go back out to Jules.”

  “Yes Sister.”

  Jules had steered her chair into a corner of the pergola, needing protection from the cold wind, which was whipping up. At least she was well wrapped up, so she was protected from the elements but she hoped Catherine wouldn’t be too long because sitting still she was going to get very cold very rapidly. Still, it was nice to be alone outside without someone watching over her. She would have liked to take a tour of the gardens alone but her arms weren’t strong enough yet to move the chair that far.

  It was a relief when the sound of the fire alarm ceased. Good, the fire couldn’t have been serious. She surmised it couldn’t have been because three maintenance men we’re ambling their way through the gardens. If it had been serious they’d be inside helping get the patients out. Jules hated the thought of anything bad happening to this place, the work they did here was vital.

  Jules squinted at the maintenance men meandering their way through the garden. One of them looked very familiar. Her stomach dropped when she realised it was Charlie O'Brien, whose jaw she’d broken during a fight. The man beside him was his friend Rob, who she’d slashed several times with her knives. Accompanying them was a small blond man called Sam, an associate of Pat Evans, who she’d had more than one run-
in with. It wasn’t like they hadn’t deserved what she’d done to them - Charlie had tried to rape a woman in a nightclub. It just happened that the woman in question had been the sister of one of the member’s of Lucifer’s Shadow and Jules had sorted him out for her. Rob had started a fight with her in retaliation for her attack on Charlie and she’d overcome him easily. Sam she hadn’t really had a quarrel with, he’d just got in the way when Pat had intercepted her on a drug’s run and attempted to take the product from her. Silly bastard should have known better. It was too much of a coincidence that these three lemons turn up here at exactly the same time as the fire alarm mysteriously goes off. They must have heard she was awake and now they want revenge. If they had any sense they would have taken it while she was unconscious.

  Jules pulled her phone out of her coat and called Mikey. “Someone’s here to kill me.”

  When that idiot Charlie O'Brien and his accomplices had entered Jules’s room, Steve had ducked out of sight behind a tree and he was now watching them head into the gardens in the direction Jules had gone. They were going to take his revenge before he’d even got near her and he wasn’t having it. But what should he do? He couldn’t shoot them. Dead bodies lying in gardens tended to attract attention and he didn’t want to hurt them, he was just a humble barman who generally got on very well with the world. It was only Jules Driscoll he had a problem with. Plus they were good customers of his so he wasn’t about to bump them off.

  Shoving the gun back inside his jacket he followed, careful to keep out of their line of sight. Clearly they didn’t know where she’d gone judging by the way they kept looking around. The gardens were vast, shielding the patients from the curiosity of the outside world, making it an ideal place to stage a hit but no way was he going to do it in front of those three clowns. If he was honest with himself, Steve felt a bit sick. He’d never killed anyone before, although he’d come close a few times when he’d gone overboard beating someone up but he’d had to do that to ensure everyone knew not to fuck with his pub. It was about survival. Then Jules had come along, or Venom as she’d been known back then. Fair enough he’d got mouthy with her, trying to big up his reputation in front of his customers. The bitch had dragged him over the bar and beaten him unconscious. That had been a huge loss of face for him and it had taken him months to build his reputation back up again, once he’d been released from hospital. She was the only person ever to get the better of him and that fact ate him up from the inside out. Well it was payback time and no one was going to take that from him.