The blade flashed a Morse code in the daylight as they struggled. The arcane symbols scratched into its metal sent strange reflections dancing around the van’s walls.
‘Let me do this!’ Skeebs shouted over the screams. ‘We got to try!’
A growl escaped Amanda’s throat. The boy was pushing her in the chest and winning, her forearm coming away from the crook of his elbow. A few moments more and the boy would be able to slip his arm out from under her. It’d be enough to turn the tables, push her aside, stab the demon, fail the job, doom them all.
She looked him in the eye, tried to stare him down, make him see reason.
An icy glare stared back, underlined by the boy’s short, determined snorts of effort. Little shit was thinking about bringing the knife up into her side, she could see it in his eyes.
She redoubled her efforts, but she didn’t have the weight, her arm numbing from the elevation.
She couldn’t die here. Not like this.
Light stabbed into Amanda’s eyes as the driver door groaned open.
Caleb squeezed his way inside. If he could hear the screams and thundering walls, he gave no sign. Assessing the situation in an instant, he reached down over the seat and closed Skeebs’ hand in his own massive fist and twisted.
The knife clattered to the floor. Skeebs went after it, moving mere inches before Caleb’s hands found the boy’s jacket.
The big man heaved. Amanda shut her eyes as the boy was pulled out from under her, coat, belt and jeans scraping across her face as Skeebs was lifted up and over the driver’s seat.
The boy’s boots crashed against the ceiling, his body twisting as Caleb pulled him into the daylight.
And just like that, Amanda was alone. With the voices and the box.
‘Amanda! Please! Just do what he says!’
The walls were a constant roar, bending under the weight of desperate fists. The voices were cracking with the effort, their cries tearing throats and cutting Amanda deep.
She had to get it shut. The wards had already proved themselves flawed – but weak wards were better than none.
Heart in her mouth, Amanda fell at the remaining two padlocks, snapped the first closed.
One was missing. It must have fallen in the struggle.
She clawed into the heap of bags, blankets and rubbish, throwing it all behind her.
‘Amanda, you fuck, let him out!’
There! She felt hard metal beneath a shopping bag, whipped the plastic aside. Her hands shook as she turned the lock around in her hands.
‘Amanda!’
It rattled in its bracket. Clicked.
The shouts cut off. The fists stilled, the silence ringing in Amanda’s ears.
Breathless and trembling, she leaned back into Caleb’s duffel bag, let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She tried not to think about those cries for help – she’d heard her husband and children among them.
Skeebs was struggling against Caleb outside. She could hear the scuffling of icy soil. ‘You’ve got to let me back in there!’
There’d been that glint in his eye. Amanda knew the look of someone thinking of killing her when she saw it. Fuck, but she thought they had put the whole thing about his brother behind them. If this didn’t warrant a temporary truce then what did?
Bridget’s bag nudged at her elbow. She pulled it onto her lap, the soft, smooth leather sliding easily.
Killing him wasn’t an option. Not yet anyway. With Bridget gone she needed every pair of hands available. No point in confronting him either, he’d only deny it. Skeebs had seen an opportunity and gone for it. He wouldn’t get a second.
She picked up the knife and held it up, checking the symbols etched into the blade for damage. A nick in the wrong place, a rune changed, and they’d be fucked for the banishment ritual.
Satisfied, she deposited it into the bag, zipped it closed and pushed it away. Then, when that didn’t feel like enough, she pulled Skeebs’ blanket over to cover it.
The scars up her arms were throbbing again. They always did when there was powerful hoodoo in the air. She hated magic, all it ever brought her was misery.
The shakes had come back. Months of work and they’d almost lost everything to faulty wards and a panicky kid.
She stared hard at the box, eyes roaming across the frosted metal, imagining the thing inside. It didn’t do for her to be alone with it any more than Skeebs. It twisted her up inside. Being near it was hard enough. They’d taken it a thousand miles so far, London to Russia, and they still had twice as far remaining.
At least the wards seemed to be working again – some result of the vagaries of magic that Amanda refused to understand. Maybe Reeves was just tired out. But who knew when he would try again and whose life it would cost? They had to get moving.
Hell of a final job.
Skeebs was still protesting. Caleb stood between the boy and the van, watching him pace like a caged animal.
‘Put us all in danger,’ Caleb was croaking. ‘Can’t do this if we’re dead. Got one shot. Got to do it right. In the right place. You got to be patient.’
‘While we get picked off one by one? Bridget’s dead, man. Her theory’s bullshit. We got to take our chances and try to kill it now.’
Amanda remembered when the kid had been unflappable like his brother, always dressed to perfection, possessed of that easy arrogance that came with youth. Now a haunted look had bedded in those shadow-ringed eyes. His nails were bitten to the quick. His once-immaculate haircut had grown out, unwashed and uncared for. Before, Amanda had never seen the boy wear the same thing twice, now his expensive on-brand hoodie and jeans were dirty and stained.
They should have left him in London but the man paying for this job, AK, had insisted. Skeebs was the only one to have faced the demon and survived, boss thought there was something to that. She doubted it. Skeebs, like the rest of them, had been sent out because they were all that was left and AK didn’t care if they died.
‘Amanda!’ Skeebs bellowed. Caleb sidestepped, blocking the boy from reaching her. ‘You promised me! You said no more deaths.’
The boy’s eyes were full of bruised innocence, like he hadn’t been trying to stab her two minutes ago. ‘It’s under control,’ she replied.
‘You call this under control? What fucking planet are you on?’
Caleb planted a hand on Skeebs’ chest before the boy could get past him. ‘Easy.’
Skeebs snorted in derision, stepping back to look up into Caleb’s face. ‘You going to protect her? What we going to do? Walk the rest of the way? Man, are you even fucking listening?’ This to Amanda again.
Amanda breathed out, watching a bird pinwheel across the sky. ‘Go and search the lorry. We need fuel.’
‘What?’
‘We’ll take the lorry, put the box in the back.’
Skeebs’ eyes darted from Caleb to Amanda. He ran his hands up across his head, exasperated. ‘Fucking bullshit!’ He began to stomp away in the direction of the lorry, kicking at stones, trailing a string of protests behind him.
‘You should tell him,’ said Caleb, once the boy was out of earshot, ‘what happens if we try it too early.’
‘No. No telling how he’ll take it.’
‘But—’
‘I don’t want him knowing.’
Caleb sighed. Nodded. ‘Risky. Might try something again.’
‘Not if we keep an eye on him. Little shit tried to stab me in there.’
‘Think AK put him up to it?’
‘Even AK’s not that stupid. Danny on the other hand…’ she shook her head.
‘What you want to do?’
‘What can we do? And if AK’s right and there’s even a chance he knows something useful… I’m making a phone call. He does anything stupid, stop him.’
A bitter wind numbed her earlobes as she went back to the van.
The screams still skittered against her conscience.
She took her time in dialling. What time was it
there? She circled around to the driver’s side, leaned against the cold chassis.
‘Amanda?’ Not even a whole ring. It was Jamison, the voice of her old mentor a welcome respite.
‘Have you done it?’ she asked. ‘Is he dead?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Reeves got to Bridget. She drove the van into a ditch then jumped herself in front of a lorry.’
Silence, or rather the sound of the old man’s well-oiled gears turning. Then: ‘And Reeves?’
‘Hard to say. Quiet right now.’ Amanda stared down at her feet, toeing at the soil. The reality of what had happened was beginning to hit. That familiar wave of fear and hate gripped her belly. ‘Looks like Bridget’s plan isn’t going to work. The runes aren’t holding and we still have another two thousand odd miles to the circle.’ She sighed. ‘And she was the only one knew the ritual.’
‘And nobody opened the box? Not even to—’
‘You think I’d want it fucking open?’ She regretted snapping the moment she had. Jamison’s pause was full of reproach, letting her stew a moment.
‘I’m not in the habit of creating solutions in the dark, Amanda. I’m just trying to—’ Jamison’s voice was snatched away. Amanda winced as the receiver scratched and blew in her ear.
‘Coleman.’ The boss’ voice was enough to put Amanda’s teeth on edge. ‘You’d better be phoning with good news.’
‘Your plan didn’t work. Your pet Abra’s dead.’
‘Un-fucking-acceptable!’ Amanda had to hold the phone from her ear to avoid being deafened. ‘If she’s dead that’s your fault for moving too fucking slow.’
‘We’ve been pissing in bottles and driving in shifts. It wasn’t enough. The van’s fucked. We need something else.’
The speaker had been blowing angry snorts by the time she got to ‘pissing’. When AK spoke again it was low and clenched. ‘You better not be planning something, Coleman. I swear to fucking god, I even think you’re coming after me—’
‘I’m not coming after you. I said the van was a bad idea, you didn’t listen. I said summoning this thing in the first place was a bad idea, you didn’t listen. Every time you don’t listen to me things get worse. I’m the one caught it, I’m the one got it this far, two things meant to be fucking impossible by the way, so maybe if you listened to me…’ She paused at the noises on the other end of the line, shuffles and grunts of frantic activity. ‘Hello?’
‘Mum?’
How much fear and hope can be packed into a single word then forged into a nail and shot through her heart? Amanda gasped, clutched at the phone with both hands, pressing it so hard to her ear it hurt. She moved around the van so the others wouldn’t see.
‘Michaela? Michaela, I’m here. It’s Mum. Just stay calm OK? I’m coming quickly as I can. You do whatever Jamison says. Whatever he tells you. Michaela?’
But her daughter was gone again.
The handset boiled with quiet static. Amanda tried not to sink to the floor, tears pressing to be let out. She’d heard a tell-tale squeak of wood on concrete, pictured her darling girl, her one remaining daughter, tied to a chair, cord biting into her wrists.
‘That clear to you?’ AK again. ‘You listening now?’
‘If you’ve hurt her—’
‘There ain’t no ‘if’. What I do or don’t depends on you. Fuck this up and you better hope that thing in the box gets to her before I finish because I’ve got nothing but time to come up with all sorts of ideas right now. And don’t be relying on your old friend here. I was knocking over old gents like him before I was shaving.’
Amanda ground her teeth, glaring out across the flat landscape. A tear rolled down her cheek. ‘We’re going to need help.’
‘What did I just say? It’s always something with you. If you can’t—’
‘It’s your life on the line every bit as much as mine if this doesn’t work. So if you want to hear some good news in a few days you need to listen.’
AK didn’t reply. She could picture the vein popping down his forehead. She spoke fast.
‘The van’s axle’s busted. The lorry’s still here. We’ll load into that, but that’ll only be good for a half day. Sooner or later the owners will figure something’s up. We can’t keep doing this by road.’
More silence.
‘We need a train,’ Amanda continued. ‘Flat bed pallets, one cargo container at the end away from the engine. We’ll pile onto that so hopefully we’ll be far enough away from the drivers Reeves won’t be able to get to them. They can sleep in shifts, run night and day until we get as close to the circle as the track allows. Quad bikes will take us the rest. That way it doesn’t matter what happens to us inside, nothing will stop us getting to the circle.’
‘You think I’ve got that kind of money just—’
‘How much is your life worth to you?’ Amanda pressed. ‘If it kills us, you’re next and you can bet it has something special planned. Want me to send you a picture of Bridget? Imagine what it’s going to do to the man who had her summon it in the first place.’
‘What will you do? While you’re sitting on this train?’
‘Figure out some way to do the ritual. We’ve still got her notes. Or we figure a way to do without. We passed a train yard a half day back, you can have it waiting for us there. I’ll send you the location.’
The wind picked up again, a piercing cold that struck Amanda’s bones, prompting her to pull her coat tighter with her free hand.
‘I arrange this,’ said AK, ‘I need something in return.’
Amanda cursed, silently. Even saving this arsehole’s life came with a price tag.
‘I don’t want to ever see any of you again,’ the man went on. ‘You leave for good. EU, US I don’t give a fuck, but never fucking England.’
‘I can’t sell that. Skeebs will want to keep close to his brother—’
‘Find a way. Thought you were The Great Amanda Coleman. Pretend it’s one of your heists.’
Amanda wandered up the side of the van again, peering around the corner. Caleb was standing over the driver’s body. Skeebs was poking his head out of the lorry cab’s window, the pair of them having some shouted conversation.
‘Fine.’
‘Right. I want a full confession of how this whole thing is you, Barker and Skeebs’ fault by tomorrow. You record it over the phone with Jamison. I see any of your faces again it goes to the police. Got that?’
The sound of Michaela’s chair on the bare concrete scraped through Amanda’s mind. The thought of losing her was unbearable – the only other person to come close to understanding what she’d lost in Simon, Darren, Emily.
She barely even hesitated. ‘Done.’
AK snorted a laugh. ‘Who needs enemies, eh?’ She tried to ignore the guilt as it burrowed inside her. ‘Jamison will handle the details. Meantime, we’re sending you another Abra for the ritual.’
‘This is not the time to be bringing on new—’
‘Want the train or don’t you?’
Amanda clammed up.
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get it done. And you best hope I don’t think you’re planning on crossing me. You think what I did to my enemies was bad? Imagine what I’m like when it’s fucking personal…’ The man let the words dangle in the silence a moment. And then: ‘You speak to her. We’re done here…’
AK’s voice drifted away as he handed the phone back to Jamison. Amanda strained to hear her daughter, a word from her. Anything.
‘Amanda?’
‘You just stood by and watched that?’
‘I’m doing what I can. You of all people know about the importance of picking where and when to fight. I’ll keep an eye on her, if she’s ever in real danger—’
‘Don’t you dare let him hurt her.’ Her voice was shaking.
‘I’ll do everything I can. She’s my goddaughter, of course I will. OK?’
‘…OK.’
‘In the meantime, I’ll arrange some recording e
quipment. I’ll call back with flight details on your new team member.’
‘Yeah,’ Amanda wiped away a tear, ‘you do that. I’ll try not to think on how you already seem to have someone lined up.’
‘You aren’t the only one who plans ahead. I’m sending someone with whom we have the utmost faith. And you should too. I understand that this is hard for you, your past being what it is.’
‘My past? Try my fucking present.’
‘I’m saying that if it means me getting to put you and Michaela on an airplane together then I’m all for it.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s only magic, Amanda,’ said Jamison, her old friend reading her thoughts. ‘It will get you your daughter back and save a lot more lives besides. Concentrate on that.’
‘What if I come back… not me?’
‘You’re not your father. That’s why we’re sending you someone. Let them do the magic. You won’t even have to touch it. You won’t even have to watch if you don’t want to. Just don’t…’
‘What?’
‘Just don’t get in the way.’
Amanda shook her head. ‘Get me my train.’ She hung up.
The van rocked as the back doors opened. Amanda heard a tangled thud as Caleb threw the Russian’s body inside.
She thought of the Russian’s family photo. How it had been so much like her own. Now there was a family out there without a father, and she a mother and wife without a family.
‘Shit,’ she whispered.
It wasn’t enough. She kicked at the stones around her feet, mimed flinging the phone far up into the sky. ‘FUCK!’ The cry sounded flat, trapped in the middle of a big, empty nowhere.
Hell of a last job
Chapter 2
Amanda
The present
Numb.
The passenger-side window was too cold to rest against so Amanda could only lean close. She stared up into the heavens, the night’s sky awash with more stars than she had ever thought possible.
It was Caleb’s turn to drive the three of them crammed together in the lorry’s cabin. The van and Bridget’s body were hours and miles behind them. Incinerated.
The End of the Line Page 2
