Beck le Street
Page 35
Charlie looked down at his dad, who was still unconscious. The floor of the Land Rover covered in blood.
Charlie jumped out to see the damage. The front right wheel had hit a jagged boulder and although Charlie was no mechanic, he knew with a wheel sheered off the Land Rover wasn’t going anywhere.
His mind was racing. His main priority was to get help. He looked under the driver’s seat, to see if he could find his mobile. He couldn’t see it, so he searched with his hands, running them over the floor. Nothing … nothing. Then there it was. It was there - caught in the seat mechanism. Charlie managed to get a finger and thumb round it and he started to ease it out. It wouldn’t come. It wasn’t moving. There was the sound of the pick up somewhere in the distance, he had to get the phone out, but it wouldn’t move. He was about to abandon it when he realised if he moved it upwards then it might be easier to get out. Slowly he edged the phone upwards and gradually it became looser and Charlie managed to pull it out.
He once again started to dial 9 – 9 – 9 but only got as far as the second nine when a shot rang out hitting the side of the Land Rover. Charlie instinctively ducked, whilst holding onto the phone. He then glanced up for a moment and there were the approaching headlights of Tyler’s pick-up. Another shot rang out and Charlie knew if he stayed he’d be dead. So he darted off into the mist. He’d only gone a matter of a few yards when he tripped over a rock. His hands went out instinctively to break the fall and in doing so the mobile collided violently with a stone and smashed.
Charlie looked at the mobile with its shattered face and tried in vain to reboot it. Nothing. The phone was well and truly finished. In despair he threw it to the ground and ran off onto the moors.
Tyler’s pick-up slid to a halt on the damp moorland grass. Tyler and Lucas jumped out and moved to the Land Rover. Tyler flung open the passenger door and there was Jed.
“We shot the wrong bloke,” Lucas said stating the obvious. “We shot Jed. What we do now? We shot the wrong bloke. He was on our side.”
“Not any more he isn’t. You go right … I’ll go left,” Tyler said indicating. “We need to find him.”
“But what about Jed?” asked Lucas still looking at the inert body.
“He’s not going anywhere is he?” said Tyler who was getting closer and closer to that emotional edge.
“He’s going to die if we leave him here.”
“Do you want him to live Lucas? Is that what you want?”
“But he’s one of us. He was with us when we killed Aaron.”
“So?”
“I’m just confused Tyler. First you beat the shit out of Amos and now we’re going to leave Jed to die. I thought we were all on the same side.”
“We are.”
“So why are we doing this to them?”
“Because it’s gone wrong … it’s all gone wrong.”
“We’re the law … that’s what you said when we shot Aaron. We’re the law. The four of us … was the law,” said Lucas blindly.
“Well we’re not. We’re not the law. We just started to think we were. But we’re not. Because if we were, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“People break the law in Beck le Street … they get punished. Isn’t that what we always said Tyler?”
Tyler grabbed hold of Lucas and screamed in his face: “Are you fucking stupid?! It makes no sense. We cocked up. We should never have killed Aaron, we should have gone to the screws … tell ‘em what we knew … Amos should have told them what he saw, then none of this would be happening! Do you fucking understand?!”
Lucas just nodded.
“Okay … okay.” The anger had rapidly abated from Tyler’s voice. “Let’s go,” he said.
Tyler and Lucas set off. Jed still didn’t stir.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Charlie had been running for ten minutes, maybe more and there was still no road. No way off the mist drenched moors. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Which way now? Carry straight on? Or left … or maybe right? The mist wasn’t diminishing, if anything it seemed to be growing thicker, more intense.
Last time he headed to his right. Left would take him back the way he’d just come, well that was his thinking at least. So he should keep on going right. He had to hit a road sooner or later.
His clothes were damp from the mist and the sweat, while his mind was swamped with what Jed had told him.
He also couldn’t help comparing himself to his father, Tyler, Amos and Lucas. Charlie, like the murderous four, had tried to take the law into his own hands, conduct his own investigation and the consequences had been tragic. He should have left it well alone.
Charlie kept alternating between running and walking. Occasionally he’d trip over some large stone or even a clump of moorland grass, which would send him sprawling, but he’d quickly get up and keep moving.
It must have been nearly thirty minutes later he reached a road. One of those narrow roads that cut through the moors like a diameter through a circle – neat and purposeful. Charlie stood on it not knowing which way to go. Once again he decided to go right, so off he set, his feet pounding along the ground.
After about five minutes of running, running on the hard surface was far easier than running on the grass, he became aware of a vehicle approaching. He stood in the middle of the road and started to wave his hands. He knew, given the state of him, there was little chance of the approaching vehicle would stop. But he would give it a good try.
Slowly the headlights transformed in the mist into a fully-fledged pick-up truck and Charlie knew this truck had no intention of stopping. The truck was Tyler’s and it was hurtling straight towards him. Charlie managed to jump out of the way, just in the nick of time.
With burning rubber the pick-up screeched to a halt and out jumped Tyler and Lucas with their guns at the ready. It was like the Wild West, only there were no horses.
Charlie had darted back onto the moors and was off running again. He knew his pursers wouldn’t be far behind him either on foot or in the pick-up. As he could hear no engine he assumed they were on foot.
It was then he decided - if there was any chance saving his dad, then things would have to change.
He needed to stop running and start fighting.
Charlie picked up a gnarled, jagged stone, that fit neatly in his hand. Hitting someone with this stone he knew would cause serious damage. He then moved behind a large rock and waited. He tried to calm his breathing so he could hear every sound. His only chance was to catch them unawares.
He waited … and waited … then a noise.
Charlie couldn’t tell from which direction the noise came; it was just out there somewhere. His grip tightened round the stone and he listened with focused concentration.
There was the noise again.
It had to be one of them.
Charlie took a little look around the rock … nothing. Where were they?
He slid back into his refuge looking straight ahead. And there was a figure coming straight at him out of the mist. He soon realised it was Lucas, who appeared not to have seen Charlie. Charlie still all in black, was hard to pick out against the background of the rocks, but he also knew it would only be a matter of time before the convenient camouflage ceased to be effective.
Charlie hit the deck and on his stomach he crawled towards another rock formation. This time there were three rocks close together and he managed to slip in between a couple of them.
Charlie waited, just hoping Lucas would continue on in the same direction.
Lucas twitched his head to the left. Was that a sound? He wasn’t sure. He looked keenly at where he thought the noise originated. He couldn’t see anything.
Charlie held his breath. If he was going to do it, it had to be now.
Lucas passed by him, his eyes still
fixed on the place he believed the sound originated.
Charlie came quietly out from the rocks, assault stone still in hand. Lucas had his back to him. Charlie raised up the makeshift weapon and as he did so Lucas sensed something behind him and turned swiftly.
Charlie whacked the stone down catching Lucas’s forehead. The blow wasn’t clean, but it did make enough contact to break the skin on Lucas’s temple and send him staggering backwards. Charlie went after him, his hand holding the stone lashing out trying to make another contact. But Lucas managed to duck out of his way as the blood started to run from his forehead into his eye.
As he dodged the stone, Lucas began to level his gun, knowing one shot would do it.
Charlie was suddenly aware the gun was inches off being pointed straight at his stomach, so he swiftly changed tack. The stone came crashing down on the gun’s barrel. Lucas’s finger pulled the trigger and the gun fired … but into the ground.
About a hundred yards away Tyler heard the gun discharge. He started to run towards the direction of the shot.
Charlie lashed out at Lucas again, the assault stone, catching him on the shoulder. Lucas let out a cry of pain and as he swung the gun back towards Charlie it smashed into Charlie’s hand causing him to drop the stone.
Lucas’s head wound was now causing a stream of blood to flow into his right eye, making it difficult for him to focus on Charlie. Charlie without any defensive weapon did the only thing he could, he grabbed the barrel of the gun, burning his hands as it was still hot having just had a shot gun pellet soar through it. He didn’t know much about guns, but he knew these were double barrelled shot guns and each barrel only held one pellet, so if he could get Lucas to fire the second pellet, he was in with a chance.
But Lucas was no push over. His life had been one of hard labour and he knew Charlie was no match for him. Nevertheless Charlie held onto the gun, turning it this way and that. Lucas swung his left fist catching Charlie on the jaw, but he still didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. Lucas struck out again, Charlie ducked, but Lucas managed to catch him on the way back.
Charlie’s head was ringing. How long could he hold on for? If he let go then it would all be over. Then a voice:
“Lucas – leave him!” It was Tyler.
In that moment Charlie knew what he had to do. Tyler was telling Lucas to get out of the way so he had a clear shot … at least that’s what Charlie assumed and luckily he assumed correctly. The only way this would be possible was if one of them let go of the gun. But if Lucas let go, Charlie would be left holding it and there was no way he would be able to turn it round and fire before Tyler shot him.
So Charlie took Lucas and himself by surprise and just let go of the gun.
Lucas looked at him as he took a step backwards … there was a smile on his face, one of relief. Tyler would take care of it all now. But as he tried to step out of the way Charlie grabbed him, pulling him in front of him, creating a human shield for himself.
Tyler let both barrels rip.
The pellets crashed into Lucas’s stomach as Charlie released his hold.
Lucas’s smile of relief turned to a look of horror as he felt the red hot pellets rip into his gut, causing major organs to rupture and haemorrhage.
Lucas collapsed to the ground.
Tyler couldn’t believe what had just happened. How? How did it happen?
Tyler was then aware of movement. Charlie was heading for the prone body of Lucas. He was bending down … Charlie was going for Lucas’s gun.
Tyler started to fumble in his gun belt. He needed to reload. He’d fired both barrels into Lucas. He needed to reload.
Charlie picked up the gun. No rush, no hurry. It was his turn to become the hunter.
Tyler managed to get one shell out of the belt.
Charlie raised Lucas’s gun aiming directly at Tyler.
Tyler broke the shotgun and started to load the shell.
Charlie pulled the trigger realising only then he’d never fired a gun in his life, whilst praying the shot was on target.
The blast hit Tyler’s left shoulder causing him to fall backwards in the process of which he dropped his gun.
Charlie had managed to hit the target.
Cautiously he moved towards Tyler. Like a blind man being suddenly granted sight, the mist started to clear, however it was still dark and he wasn’t sure how badly the shot had injured Tyler, or if his would-be killer had something else up his sleeve. Another gun maybe … or a knife.
Charlie found Tyler’s gun on the ground. One shell in the chamber, but the gun was still broken. Charlie dropped Lucas’s now empty weapon, picked up Tyler’s and locked the barrel. He wasn’t taking any chances. He moved to where Tyler had fallen, but he’d gone. The moorland grass was dark from a bloodstain, but there was no sign of Tyler. He was now on the run.
Charlie moved back to Lucas, who by some miracle was still alive. Charlie bent down to him. Lucas looked at him, fear in his eyes.
“Help me … I don’t want to die … I don’t want to die.”
“Tell me who killed my mother. Tell me and I won’t leave you to die.”
“I don’t know … I don’t know.”
“Who does … who does know?”
Lucas shook his head and just managed to say, “Nobody … nobody.” Then he died.
Charlie searched his pocket and took out his mobile phone. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lucas. He was a simple soul who could never say ‘No.’ This wasn’t his fight, but still Charlie didn’t know whose fight it was. Again that would have to wait, because all that mattered now was getting his father to hospital.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Charlie, carrying Tyler’s shotgun, with the single barrel loaded, quickly made his way back to the road. The pick up truck was gone. Tyler might have been shot, but he was still able to drive the truck. As Charlie headed back along the road he dialled the emergency services on Lucas’s mobile, hopefully the phone’s GPS would give them some indication of his location.
Now with the mist almost cleared Charlie started to get a better sense of where he was. He realised that the time he’d spent on the moors, he’d more or less gone round and round in circles. After about fifteen minutes of walking he saw the Land Rover. He ran to it, hoping that his father was still alive.
Jed had lost a lot of blood, but he still had a pulse. There was a chance they could save him. In the distance he saw the blue light of the ambulance. He broke the shotgun to make it safe, then he took Jed’s old Barbour coat from the back of the Land Rover and wrapped the gun in it, hoping to disguise what it was.
The paramedics arrived and asked a host of questions, whilst stabilising Jed the best they could. They loaded him, not quite unconscious, into the ambulance and Charlie climbed in carrying the Barbour coat. With lights flashing and the odd blast of the siren they sped towards Scarborough General Hospital.
During the journey Charlie held his dad’s hand. Just before they arrived at the hospital, Jed’s eyes eased open slightly. Charlie wanted to smile at him, a smile of reassurance, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Jed seemed to understand and started to speak, but the words were muffled by the oxygen mask he was wearing.
“I’m fine now,” he said weakly. “It’s over …”
“You’re going to be okay …”
“No … Peace at …” Then, despite his condition, something ignited his brain, his memory and there was a massive realisation. “Peace,” he repeated. “She wrote it … she wrote it.”
“Who wrote what?”
“I can see it. ‘Peace at Last’ … she wrote it.”
“Mum … wrote it?”
“No … the ‘L’ … it was her ‘L’… she wrote it.”
“I don’t get it dad …”
“Like …”
“On the board … I saw it on the board … when she …”
Jed just smiled and closed his eyes.
Charlie was left wondering what he meant. ‘Peace at Last’ were the words that had been written on the dart board. Words he’d never believed to be a suicide note, but were left there by the killer in an amateurish attempt to make it look like a suicide. Now his father was trying to tell him something … about the ‘L’ - the letter ‘L.’ But frustratingly for Charlie he had no idea what Jed meant.
The arrival at Scarborough General was efficient and after a brief stay in resus, Jed was taken into theatre. Charlie just sat in the corridor, the Barbour coat hiding the gun resting on his lap, his mind jumping between concern for his father and trying to figure out what his father had tried to tell him.
When DI Wood arrived it felt like he’d been sitting there for days, in reality it had been just short of two hours. Wood had been woken from his sleep, tried to comprehend what had occurred from a slightly gabbled duty sergeant - couldn’t, so he headed in to the station to try and make some sense of the situation.
Jed’s shooting had been reported to the police by the hospital and the only other thing Wood knew was it had happened on the moors and Charlie was involved.
Wood, with a plain clothes DC nearby, stood in front of Charlie, who looked up at him.
“I’m going to need a statement.”
Charlie just nodded.
“I’m going to need that down at the station. You might need a lawyer.”
“You think I shot him.”
“I was told you were the only one there.”
Charlie suddenly realised this wasn’t going to be easy. This was going to be complicated and he suddenly felt like an inhabitant of Beck le Street. He needed to handle this himself. He suddenly understood why they didn’t leave the problem of Aaron to the police, because in that moment of hurt, that moment of anger, that moment of grief, you know the law will not satisfy your thirst for justice. They would be concerned with statements, concerned with facts and procedure. These were the last things on Charlie’s mind. At the time he didn’t know why he’d hidden the shotgun in his father’s coat, but now he did.