Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1)

by James, Harper

Hendricks pulled some handcuffs out of his pocket and dropped them into Evan's lap then stepped back again. 'Put your arms around the pole,' he said, pointing at the metal pole supporting the handrail running up the side of the stairs, 'and cuff them together. Before you do it, take off the tool belt and throw it over there.'

  Evan did as he was told. Hendricks put the shotgun down against the wall and picked up the tool belt. He pulled the hammer out of its loop and tested its weight. 'How's your ankle.'

  Evan swallowed and said nothing.

  'Let's get some things clear first,' Hendricks said, slapping the hammer into his palm. 'If you try to kick me or anything, I'm going to do a lot worse than smash your ankle. Am I making myself clear enough?'

  Evan nodded. He didn't think his legs would hold him even if he could get up.

  'Good. What are you doing down here?'

  Evan hesitated. He didn't know what to say.

  'Not a good start.' Hendricks kicked him again in the ankle. Evan drew his leg back sharply and twisted his body away helplessly. The pain was much worse than the last time. 'If you think that hurts, wait until I get going with this.' He slapped the hammer into his palm again. 'Let's try again. What are you doing down here?'

  'I wanted to find out where you and your friend disappeared to when the police arrived.'

  'What?'

  'I was in the house when the police arrived. I heard you run down into the basement.'

  Recognition crossed Hendricks face. He nodded as things fell into place for him. 'That's why the key wasn't in the door.'

  'We came down into the basement and you weren't there. I knew there must be another way out.'

  Hendricks wasn't really listening to him. 'Why were you in the house in the first place?'

  Again Evan hesitated. He couldn't tell him the truth. It was the wrong decision. Hendricks crouched down and swung the hammer briskly into Evan's swollen ankle. A sharp stab of pain shot up Evan's leg.

  'That's just a little tap, ‘Hendricks said. 'Imagine what this would feel like.' He raised his arm above his head and brought the hammer down with all his strength into the dirt floor inches away from Evan's leg. Evan let out another gasp. He couldn't help himself.

  Hendricks stood up and walked away. 'I'm getting bored with this,' he said. Without warning he drew his arm back and threw the hammer as hard as he could into the stairs above Evan's head. It smashed into the wooden steps and bounced off again. Evan ducked instinctively but knew that if Hendricks had wanted to hit him, he'd have a caved-in skull by now.

  'I thought this would be fun, but it's too easy. You're going to piss your pants any minute. I know why you're snooping around anyway.'

  Evan waited for him to go on. This time he didn't think he was going to be punished for his silence.

  'It's about the kid who disappeared, isn't it? That's what you were asking about when you came out here the other day.'

  Hendricks started to walk back towards him. Evidently an answer was required this time. It saddened Evan to realize how easily he had been conditioned. He swallowed and tried to speak but his mouth was too dry. The delay cost him dearly. Hendricks didn't care if Evan couldn't or wouldn't answer him and landed the most vicious kick yet on Evan's ankle. Evan thrashed around and managed to gasp out a yes.

  'I knew it. I just knew it.'

  Evan would have liked to ask why it had been necessary to go through the previous five minutes of unpleasantness if he knew the answer anyway, but was sensible enough to keep it to himself.

  Hendricks was pacing up and down the room muttering something inaudible under his breath. He turned abruptly and looked down at Evan. 'Okay you interfering bastard, I'll show you something - a lot more than you bargained for, that's for sure. There's just one thing though - it'll be the last thing you ever see.'

  CHAPTER 41

  He turned and walked back to the tunnel entrance. He smiled his joyless smile at Evan. 'Don't you go anywhere; I'll be back in a minute.' With that he disappeared back down the dark tunnel. The shotgun was still leaning against the wall but it might as well have been in the trunk of Evan's car for all the good it did him. Even if he slid down onto his back and stretched out along the floor with his hands over his head he still wouldn't be able to get anywhere near it with his feet. He couldn't have held it and fired it with his hands cuffed together anyway; there would be more chance of shooting his own feet than hitting Hendricks.

  As it turned out he didn't have enough time to do anything; Hendricks wasn't away for more than a couple of minutes. He'd obviously just gone into the basement workshop to get some tools. In his left hand he had a crowbar, but it was the sledgehammer in his right hand that made Evan go rigid with fear, his muscles tensing and his bowels loosening. The back of his shirt was drenched with sweat. He closed his eyes and prayed. He'd seen the movie Misery and winced along with everyone else when Annie Wilkes smashed Paul Sheldon's ankles with a sledgehammer to stop him escaping.

  Hendricks saw his reaction and laughed. He lobbed the heavy sledgehammer into Evan's lap. Evan managed to twist away and stop it landing on his balls.

  'You've seen that movie too, eh? Don't worry, I'm not going to use it on you,' Hendricks said. 'I've got something much better lined up. You'll wish I'd caved your head in with it before this is over.'

  He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and retrieved the sledgehammer from where it lay, still nestled between Evan's legs. Then he walked over to the sheet of plywood against the wall that Evan had seen earlier and rested the sledgehammer against the wall. He jammed the crow bar under the edge of the plywood and levered it back and forth, prising the sheet of ply away from whatever it was nailed to. He worked his way methodically up and down one edge and then the other. Finally he dropped the crow bar pulled the ply away from the wall altogether with his hands. Behind it there was a bricked up doorframe. He tapped the brickwork with the wooden handle of the sledgehammer. It made a hollow sound.

  Evan was filled with a feeling of impending dread as Hendricks stepped back and squared up to the wall in front of him. Then he swung the hammer into the middle of the brickwork. It flexed but nothing broke loose. He took another swing with the same result. He leaned the sledgehammer against the wall.

  'I must have done a better job than I thought,' he said, turning back to Evan. He slapped his forehead. 'I've got a much better idea.' He took the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket and walked over to Evan.

  ‘Roll over onto your belly.’

  Evan rolled over and lay with his arms outstretched above his head and around the pole. Hendricks put his foot between Evan’s shoulder blades and leaned down and grabbed hold of one of his arms and unlocked the handcuff. He dropped the key onto the floor. Then he stepped back quickly, picked up the shotgun and pointed it at Evan.

  'You can do it. Take off the other handcuff first. And don't try anything stupid either.'

  Evan unlocked the other cuff and slowly stood up. He couldn't put his full weight on his ankle. 'I can't put any weight on this leg. How do you expect me to do it?' he said.

  'I can even them up if you think that'll help.'

  Evan hobbled over and picked up the sledgehammer. Even if he could walk properly he wouldn't be able to get across the room before Hendricks blew him into little pieces. He steadied himself as best he could and started on the wall. His ankle screamed every time his weight shifted onto it, but it didn't take long before the first brick punched through.

  A draft of warm, dry air escaped through the hole as the brick dropped into the room beyond. After that the rest of the brickwork gave way easily and soon the top half of the doorway was clear. He could easily have climbed through. He could feel a constant flow of warm air blowing across his face, almost as if he was looking into another tunnel.

  'That's enough for now,' Hendricks said. 'I don't want too much work to do when I have to brick that up again.’ He sniggered. ‘Drop the sledgehammer and take a look inside.'

  Evan dropped the
sledgehammer but he didn’t look inside. He was overwhelmed by a dreadful foreboding at what might be in the cavity. Instead he turned to face Hendricks.

  'It's too dark. I can't see anything.'

  Hendricks picked up the flashlight that Evan had dropped. He rolled it across the floor towards him. Evan looked down at it like it was a stick of dynamite.

  'Pick it up,' Hendricks said, the irritation in his voice growing, ‘and take a look.’

  'No.' If Hendricks was going to kill him anyway, it didn't matter if he did what he said or not.

  Hendricks was incredibly fast. He took a couple of swift paces across the room and kicked Evan's good leg out from under him. Evan landed on his butt with a thump. Hendricks reversed the shotgun in his hands and clubbed him on the side of the head with the butt. Evan collapsed into a heap and lay in a daze on the floor.

  Hendricks put the shotgun down and bent over and twisted Evan's right arm hard up behind his back. He grabbed Evan’s collar, straightened up again and dragged Evan up onto his feet.

  'Time to meet your new roommates,' he said, spinning Evan round so that he faced the gaping black hole. Evan tried to struggle against him but he couldn’t focus properly and with his broken ankle and his arm up behind his back, he didn’t have a chance.

  Hendricks jerked Evan’s arm upwards savagely, pushing his head and upper body through the hole, bending him double over the edge until his feet were barely on the ground. Evan thrashed from side to side but it was no use and only made the pressure on his shoulder worse.

  In one fluid movement Hendricks released his grip on Evan's arm, dropped onto one knee and clamped his arms around his lower legs. He stood up sharply and tipped Evan all the way through the opening. Evan tumbled down a short flight of steps on the other side and landed in a heap at the bottom, on top of the pile of broken bricks. Hendricks bent down and picked up the flashlight, leaned into the opening and bounced it off Evan's head.

  'It would have been much easier if you’d picked it up when I told you,' he said.

  Evan lay still with his eyes closed for a minute to catch his breath. His chest was heaving from struggling against Hendricks. Every part of his body ached. His head was still spinning. He could hear Hendricks moving around on the other side of the wall. Then he heard a sound that made his stomach turn to ice.

  Hendricks grunted as he picked up the big sheet of plywood and shuffled towards the hole with it. He slid it sideways over the doorway and everything gradually went black as the wedge of light slowly disappeared to nothing. Then there was a moment’s silence before he started hammering the nails back into the wooden frame, the sounds reverberating around Evan’s makeshift dungeon.

  CHAPTER 42

  He pushed himself up into a sitting position and felt around on the floor until he found the flashlight. He took a deep breath and switched it on. He was in a small room that couldn’t have been more than eight feet square. The walls and the ceiling were lined with rough timber and the floor was dry and dusty. In the top right-hand corner there was an air vent and he could feel the warm, dry air coming from it. There were no lights.

  The only furniture in the room was a single metal bed along the back wall. He quickly switched off the flashlight. He didn't want to look at what was on the bed. He thought he knew what it was but he didn't want to have to look at it. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and tried to calm down. It was impossible. He could feel panic rising inside him. He bent forward and pushed his thumb hard into his swollen ankle. The sudden pain made him gasp but he kept on pushing until he couldn't stand it any longer. Then he switched the flashlight back on and shone the beam onto the grotesque tableau laid before him on the bed.

  The mummified corpse of Robbie Clayton - who else could it be - sat upright on the bed leaning against the wall. His skin was a mottled brown color, leathery and split in places where it stretched tightly across his cheekbones and chin. His nose was shrivelled, his lips shrunken over yellowing teeth. The eye sockets were empty and gazed silently at the small figure that lay across his lap. His son - Daniel Clayton. Evan swallowed a lump the size of his fist. His throat was scratchy and his eyelids felt hot. It must be the bang on the head.

  The mummification of Daniel's smaller body was more advanced, the dried tissues of his body had become powdery and started to disintegrate, parts of his skeleton now visible. There was no smell, the drying process long since complete.

  They hadn't been merely imprisoned, they had been immured. It was likely that Robbie had starved to death but his son had not. Evan blinked rapidly and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. He could see from the obscene angle of his head that the child’s small neck had been broken - broken by the despairing hands of his grief-stricken father to save him from the horrors of a slow, lingering death by starvation or dehydration.

  He switched the flashlight off again but he might as well have not bothered. The horrific scene would be burned into his memory forever and could not be dismissed by the simple flick of a switch. He was almost glad that forever for him was unlikely to last very long.

  He sat and contemplated his future, or, to be more precise, lack of one. He was sure Hendricks planned to leave him here to die just like the others. He couldn't let him go now. The easiest thing was just to lock up all the doors and come back in a couple of months or years and brick up the hole again. For all he knew he might have already done just that. He’d conveniently left the key in the ignition to his car so Hendricks could simply dump it somewhere. He would join the ranks of all the other missing persons, if anyone even noticed he wasn't there any more. Just like Robbie Clayton before him, he had found Daniel Clayton and paid the ultimate price for his perseverance.

  The thought of what had happened to Robbie compared to the vile rumors that had been spread around town about him made Evan despair. If he could only have escaped he could set all that straight as well as giving Linda Clayton the closure that had eluded her all these years.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the crowbar being jammed between the ply and the doorframe. His mind raced with the possibilities. Had Hendricks come back already with bricks and mortar to seal him permanently into his tomb? A brief glimmer of hope crossed his mind - perhaps Guillory had suspected that he would return and had come back himself? But if that was the case, surely he’d have called out.

  It could only be Hendricks and this would be his one and only chance to escape. He only had seconds to prepare himself before the makeshift door was pulled away again. The screeching of the nails echoed round the room, setting his teeth on edge like fingernails raked down a chalkboard as, one by one, they were prised out of the wooden frame.

  The floor all around him was littered with broken bricks. He swept the beam of the flashlight across them and saw two broken bricks still joined together with mortar, their edges sharp and jagged. He picked them up and hefted them in his hand. Together they must have weighed a good ten pounds. Heavy enough to make a decent weapon that was for sure.

  Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he pushed himself up onto his feet. There was certainly nowhere to hide but he didn’t want to make it too easy for Hendricks. He stood off to the side of the steps and flattened his back against the wall. His head was about level with the bottom edge of the hole. If Hendricks wanted to shoot him he’d have to poke the shotgun in which would give him a chance. Not much of a chance, but better than nothing. Grasping the rudimentary weapon in his hand he waited.

  By now the plywood sheet had been worked away from the frame a few inches and a faint light spilled in from the basement room behind it. Unfortunately there was more than enough light for him to see the sickening scene on the bed just a few feet away. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what was going on outside.

  With a final protesting screech the board was pulled away completely and light flooded in.

  'You still in there?’ he heard Hendricks say. ‘I thought you might like some company. Oh, and just so you know, if
I see anything appear in that hole, I’ll shoot it.'

  Was he completely insane? Had he come back again just to shoot the breeze with Evan, before sealing him in again? Had he come back to gloat? Evan had to distract him somehow.

  ‘Introduced yourself to your roommates yet?’ Hendricks said and sniggered. ‘Although I don’t think they’re very talkative.’ The snigger was replaced by a full-bodied laugh. More than anything he’d ever known, Evan wanted to smash the bricks in his hand into Hendricks’ face and stop that obscene noise.

  'You're a monster,' he said. 'A sick monster.'

  Hendricks stopped laughing and pulled himself together. 'I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn't me, it was Adamson.' He sounded like a pathetic child in the playground.

  'You would say that, wouldn't you? It's always someone else's fault with people like you. The way I hear it, it’s the story of your life.'

  'See, I said you wouldn’t believe me, but I'm telling you the truth. Doesn't matter what I say now; you're never going to repeat it to anyone.'

  'So where is he now?'

  'Don't worry; you'll be seeing him again soon.'

  Through the hole, Evan heard Hendricks snigger again.

  'So what happened?'

  'Why do you care now?'

  'Call it a last request.'

  Hendricks seemed to be giving the request some consideration. 'Okay. Just don't think you're going to get a last meal as well. I’m afraid the room service isn’t great where you’re staying. Ask the other guests.' He laughed again at his own sick humor.

  'So what happened?' Evan asked again.

  'I was trying to get my life straight. I'd had some bad breaks and I wanted a new start.'

  If it hadn't been so sickening, Evan would have been amused to hear him describe his stay in prison for statutory rape as a bad break.

  'I'd done some time in prison...'

  'What for?'

  'You don't need to know. It got overturned anyway.' His candor obviously had its limits. 'When I got out I came back here and tried to make a new life.'