‘Lincoln’s fine! I told you! We gave him some water!’ cried Reuben. ‘These other guys are much worse off than he is! Sergio’s got a broken arm, for God’s sake!’
‘I doubt that,’ the doctor rejoined. He was moving towards the hatch, but paused long enough to eye Sergio’s makeshift sling. ‘A broken arm is usually a lot more debilitating,’ was his off-the-cuff diagnosis. ‘This is probably a sprain. But I’ll check it in a minute. Along with your head, Toby.’
‘And my foot. My foot hurts too.’ I didn’t bother getting up to help him with the hatch. Though he was so feeble that he couldn’t have managed it all on his own, he didn’t have to; Reuben was with him. And Reuben had no trouble lifting the lid on that shadowy, brick-lined basement. ‘I’ll go first,’ said Reuben, waving his gun. Then he plunged downstairs, closely followed by Dr Plackett. The noise of their bickering was soon overlaid by a jangle of keys.
‘Is that American bloke down there?’ Nina asked, much to my surprise.
‘Yeah,’ I answered. ‘So Reuben told you about him?’
Nina shrugged. ‘He gave us an update on our way over.’
‘Oh. Right.’
This made perfect sense to me, but not to Sergio. ‘Why?’ he demanded. And when Nina and I both stared at him, he said brusquely, ‘Who are you people? Why are you even here? What the hell has this got to do with you, anyway? Are you werewolves, or what?’
If Nina was taken aback, she didn’t show it. Instead she just smiled a sad little smile. ‘I wish,’ she murmured. Again, it was an odd thing to say. I was about to tell her so, but I didn’t get a chance – because all at once Barry lurched to his feet.
‘I’m gunna be sick,’ he groaned. Then he clamped a shaking hand across his mouth.
Nina stiffened.
‘Where’s the bathroom?’ she shot at me.
‘Uh – through there.’ I motioned at the connecting door. ‘Second on your left.’
As Barry stumbled out of the kitchen, he kept bouncing off corners and bumping into furniture. He moved like a drunk man, and I wondered if he might need help. From what I could see, Nina wasn’t about to give him any; she just sat there, watching him stagger out of the room. And Sergio’s only reaction was to pounce on Barry’s vacated chair.
It didn’t seem right that I should have to get up. I mean, I had a sore foot, for God’s sake.
‘Is he gunna be all right?’ I asked, jerking my chin at the door.
‘He’ll live,’ Nina said wearily.
‘Can’t the doctor do anything?’
She shook her head, even more wearily. ‘No.’
‘But if it’s something he ate . . .’
‘It isn’t.’ Nina hesitated, as if she didn’t know whether to go on or not. Her dark eyes searched my face. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath.
Unfortunately, Sergio bumbled in ahead of her.
‘Speaking of things to eat, did you bring any food?’ he piped up. ‘Like a chocolate bar, maybe?’
Nina blinked. She turned to peer at him, her expression dazed. ‘A chocolate bar?’ she repeated. You’d have sworn that he was speaking in a foreign language.
‘We’re living on pickles! That’s all we’ve got!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’re starving to death!’
‘Oh.’ She put a hand to her cheek. ‘Yes. Of course. Food,’ she muttered. ‘I never thought . . .’
And then, suddenly, the back door burst open.
It was Danny Ruiz.
Surprised? You bet I was. I can’t pretend that I didn’t start, or gasp, or squeak like a mouse. For one thing, Danny was a fearsome sight, what with his scars and his rifle. On top of that, I was still nursing the bump he’d given me. It wasn’t as if we’d parted on good terms.
But at least he wasn’t the mysterious Third Man. That’s what I told myself, anyway. Better the devil you know, I thought.
‘It’s okay,’ I said to Nina, who had uttered a little cry of fear. ‘It’s just Danny. He’s come back.’ I cocked my head at him. ‘Did the truck break down?’ I queried.
Danny didn’t respond. He stepped across the threshold, his coat-tails flapping, his dogs at his heels. The screen door banged shut behind him.
As he scanned the room, I realised that he’d pulled on a pair of jeans, though his chest was still bare.
‘Where’th Reuben?’ he snapped.
‘Downstairs,’ I replied – and this time I made an impression. He rounded on me.
‘Where’th the gun?’
‘The pistol, you mean?’ I felt a twinge of unease. ‘Reuben’s got it.’
Nina tried to introduce herself. ‘I’m Nina,’ she said, rising from her chair. But Danny brushed straight past her, ignoring her outstretched hand. I figured that he must be heading for the basement.
Instead, he slammed the hatch down. Crash! I couldn’t believe my eyes when he started to drag the heavy table across it.
‘What are you doing?’ I yelled. Without a second thought, I sprang out of my seat to stop him. And the pain, of course, knocked me straight back down again. ‘Yeowch! Ah! Ooh!’
The dogs were growling at Nina, their hackles raised. Danny was doing much the same thing; his gun was now trained on her. ‘So what’th your angle? Huh?’ he rasped. ‘What are you up to?’
She lifted her hands, shaking from head to toe. She was much too scared to say anything.
Meanwhile, someone was pounding on the underside of the hatch. But it wouldn’t budge. There was too much weight pushing it down, now that Danny had parked himself on the tabletop.
‘Danny,’ I spluttered, ‘what the hell . . .?’
‘They were in the back of the van.’
‘What?’ I gaped at him.
‘They were in the back of the van. I thaw ’em. I wath out there, watching. Down the road.’ He was squinting along the barrel of his gun; his hands were rock-steady, though the table beneath him kept shaking. (Bang-bang-bang went Reuben’s fists – or was it Dr Plackett hammering on the hatch?) ‘I thought I’d wait till Reuben had gone,’ Danny explained. ‘And then I’d come back and help. I didn’t think he shoulda left ya. Not without a gun.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Sergio squawked. He obviously believed that Danny had been concerned about our welfare.
I didn’t. I figured that Danny had wanted to return when the coast was clear, so he could blast a hole through each of our prisoners.
‘Reuben didn’t drive to Cobar,’ Danny went on. ‘He parked down the road and opened the back of the van. Then he let them out. Her and the other two. And they waited for a while.’
I didn’t understand. ‘You mean—’
‘They were in there all day. In the back of the van.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’ I didn’t believe a word of it. ‘That’s impossible.’
‘Athk her,’ said Danny. ‘Go on.’
I turned to Nina, whose dry lips were moving slightly. When she looked back at me, there was something in her dark-ringed eyes that made me wonder.
No, I thought. No, that’s crazy. Danny’s got it wrong.
‘You couldn’t have stayed in the back of that van,’ I argued. ‘Not all day. You would have died in there. It was too hot.’
‘Maybe it’s a refrigerated van,’ Sergio interjected. He might have been joking; I’m not sure. But Nina didn’t tell him to butt out. She seemed lost for words.
So I said, ‘If it was refrigerated, there wouldn’t be enough air. Would there?’ Sergio shrugged. Nina remained speechless. In the silence that followed, Reuben’s muffled voice was faintly audible. ‘. . . out . . . open . . .’
More violent thudding ensued. Danny ignored it.
‘And gueth what?’ he snarled. ‘D’you know who wath in that van with Morticia, here? I’ll tell you who.’ He paused for effect. ‘It wath Barry McKinnon. Barry bloody McKinnon!’
I’m not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting. Shock, maybe. If so, he didn’t get it.
‘Oh, yeah.’ Sergio nodded. ‘We knew t
hat.’
He cringed as Danny’s rifle swung towards him.
‘You what?’ Danny barked.
Sergio raised his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was a tiny thread of sound. ‘He – he told us. I mean, Reuben did . . .’
‘Barry McKinnon built the tankth!’ Danny roared. ‘Didja know that?’
Sergio licked his lips.
‘D’you know what he did to me?’ Danny raved, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. That’s when Nina spoke up, at long last. Don’t ask me why. Maybe she was trying to protect Sergio.
‘He’s very sorry,’ she bleated. ‘Barry’s very sorry for what he did.’
Once again, Danny whirled around. He shoved his rifle at Nina.
‘Oh, he’ll be thorry, all right,’ Danny promised. ‘Now where ith he?’
Nina swallowed. Her hands were still in the air.
‘You – you don’t understand,’ she stammered. ‘He’s already been punished.’
‘Not the way I’m gunna do it.’ Danny was grinding the words out between his teeth. ‘Now tell me where he ith.’
‘He’s in the bathroom,’ I volunteered.
You may be wondering why I said that. You may be thinking, ‘What a weasel!’ But the fact is, you weren’t there. You didn’t see the way Danny was looking at Nina. I did, and I was dead sure of one thing: he wasn’t bluffing. Two more seconds, and he would have beat the answer out of her – or worse.
There was something else, too. I happened to be sitting between Danny and the door, so I knew that, when he ran towards it, I’d have a good chance of stopping him.
I just wanted to get his gun out of Nina’s face.
Yeah, yeah, I know. What a moron. Danny had a loaded rifle and four vicious dogs, and what did I have? An injured foot. Good one, Toby.
Mind you, I did manage to take him by surprise. He probably didn’t think that I could get up at all, let alone grab his gun as he went past. Not that I had a hope of actually getting the gun off him. I just thought that if I could keep him occupied for a few seconds, Nina would have enough time to open the hatch and let Reuben out.
I didn’t factor in the dogs, though. They went straight for me.
‘No! Stop! Get them off!’ Nina screamed, as I staggered backwards. My ankle gave way because the dogs were dragging me down; mostly they were pulling at my jeans, but Psycho had leapt right up and bitten my arm. Snap! It wasn’t really a bad bite. He let go of me the instant I let go of Danny. Still, I was bleeding – and hurting, too. Man, did it hurt! (Dog bites hurt like you wouldn’t believe.)
‘Stop it!’ Nina had picked up a chair. She was using it against the dogs, trying to drive them away. She looked like a lion tamer. ‘Get off! No! Stop!’
By that time, however, the pain had kicked in. And when that happened, I stopped being scared. I got angry instead. I got so angry that I hauled off and punched Psycho straight between the eyes. It was chaos, for a moment. Blood was dripping and dogs were barking and people were yelling and Nina was reeling back, looking sicker than ever. As for Danny, he’d freed himself and was heading for the hallway.
‘Open the hatch!’ I shouted at Nina. She’d dropped her chair, for some reason. Not only that; she’d retreated to the farthest corner of the room, where she was clinging to a benchtop as if she needed propping up.
It was Sergio who came to my rescue. I don’t know why, unless he was afraid that he might be the dogs’ next target. He weighed in and gave Tagger a huge kick, before treading on Mutt’s tail. I had Psycho in a headlock by then, and he was hysterical, thrashing about like a shark on a hook.
‘Nina, will you open the hatch?’ I bawled.
She nearly passed out while she was moving from the sink to the table, but she did it. She got there. In the meantime, I was trying to keep Mutt away from my bad ankle. Sergio was waving a chair at Tagger. Somewhere down the hallway, Danny was bellowing at the top of his voice.
Scr-e-e-e-ech. A heavy piece of furniture scraped across the floor. Nina had leaned against the table and used her weight to slowly, noisily, push it a metre or so to the right. I didn’t see Reuben lunging out of the basement. I was too busy fending off snapping teeth.
But I sure heard him fire his pistol.
bang!
It was so damn loud. Even the dogs froze. For a split second I thought that Reuben had shot someone, until I saw that he’d aimed at the ceiling.
‘geddown!’ he roared. His eyes blazed and his veins throbbed and he stamped his foot at the nearest dog – who happened to be Tagger. When Tagger growled, Reuben growled back.
Mutt was already slinking away. Psycho whimpered. They knew who was top dog in that kitchen.
Then Dr Plackett said faintly, ‘Oh Christ. Is someone bleeding?’
I looked around to discover that he was halfway up the stairs. I had to think for a moment before answering. Was mine the only fresh blood in the room?
‘It’s just a dog bite,’ I croaked. The words were hardly out of my mouth when a terrible scream rent the air. It was coming from down the hallway.
‘Out.’ Dr Plackett wasn’t talking to the dogs. ‘Get out. Quick. Everyone.’
‘Not me,’ said Reuben.
‘Yes, you.’
‘He’s got a gun, Sanford!’
A huge thud made the whole house tremble. There was a distant moan, followed by a series of uneven little thumps.
‘For God’s sake, get out!’ cried Dr Plackett. Psycho was wriggling and whimpering. I had to let him go because Reuben grabbed my arm, hauling me upright.
It was Sergio who first spotted Danny. He yelled and pointed. I turned to look, vaguely aware that Nina was wringing her hands.
Danny stood on the threshold, swaying like a tree in the wind. His lips were blue. His expression was shell-shocked. His neck was streaming blood.
In a faint voice, he said, ‘The rotten bugger bit me.’
Next thing I knew, I was outside. Reuben had hustled me through the back door.
‘Get in the van,’ he instructed.
‘What?’
‘Get in the van! Quick!’ He darted into the house again, ignoring the fact that I was practically crippled. How was I supposed to get in the van when I couldn’t move without some kind of support? As it was, I had to stand on one foot. And there was so much junk between me and the van, I could easily have impaled myself on a tangle of auto parts or a set of rusty bedsprings if I’d tried to hop through it all in the darkness, unaided.
Luckily, Reuben was back within seconds. He was dragging Sergio behind him.
‘A vampire?’ Sergio was saying. ‘What d’you mean, he’s a vampire?’
‘They all are.’ Reuben caught sight of me. ‘Why aren’t you – ?’ he began. Then his gaze dropped to my foot, which was dangling off the ground. ‘Oh. Right. Your ankle.’
‘He reckons they’re all vampires,’ Sergio told me, in tones of dismay. ‘Because Danny got bitten . . .’
‘And you’ll be next, if you don’t get in the bloody van!’ Reuben snapped. Then he caught his breath, listening intently. At first I couldn’t hear anything except the shouts and thumps and frantic pleas that were coming from the kitchen. Gradually, however, I picked up another sound: the faint hum of a distant car.
‘Oh, Christ,’ said Reuben. He dashed around the side of the house, past his van, to get a good look at the road.
Sergio and I stared after him, completely gobsmacked.
‘What’s all this about vampires?’ I finally asked.
Sergio shrugged. He couldn’t seem to stop shaking his head.
‘Who’s supposed to be a vampire?’ I pressed. ‘Barry McKinnon?’
‘And Danny, now.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Are they crazy?’ Sergio demanded, his voice cracking. ‘You know these people. What are they up to?’
‘I – I dunno . . .’
‘We gotta get outta here.’ Sergio winced as something heavy hit the floor inside. The noise sent him scu
ttling towards Reuben’s van.
‘Wait!’ I cried. ‘Come back! What about me?’
But he didn’t hear – or he didn’t want to hear. I had to cast around for a crutch of some kind. It wasn’t easy in the dark; eventually I came up with an old piece of fence-post, which I leaned on as I picked my way between all the clumps of garbage.
When I caught up with Sergio, he was tugging fruitlessly at one of the van doors.
‘It’s bloody locked,’ he muttered, before whirling around and shrieking at Reuben, ‘It’s bloody locked! Where are the keys?’
Reuben stood in a golden patch of light that was spilling through a kitchen window. Above him arched a glistening canopy of stars. Beyond him, in the middle distance, I could see a pair of headlights.
They were growing larger and larger.
Reuben hissed something under his breath. Then he whirled around, plunging a hand into his pocket. His other hand was still wrapped around the pistol.
‘Is it – is it that third guy?’ I quavered. ‘The one from Broken Hill?’
‘I dunno.’ He pulled out his keys and hurried towards the van. I stepped aside so he could unlock it.
‘Are we leaving?’ Sergio exclaimed. When no one answered, he said, ‘Who has Danny’s rifle? Where is it now?’
‘Here.’ Reuben yanked open the driver’s door. ‘Get in.’
‘Are we making a run for it? Are you gunna drive?’ Sergio was becoming more and more shrill. ‘I’m not getting in if you’re not!’
‘Just do it, will you?’ Reuben ordered.
‘No! I won’t! We’ll be sitting ducks in there!’ Sergio shook him off, stumbling backwards. Meanwhile, I was watching the car as it bounced towards us. It was low to the ground. It had rectangular headlights. It seemed to be a dark reddish colour. And the softly illuminated numberplate read . . .
‘Hey!’ I squeaked. ‘Hang on! That’s our car!’
‘What?’ Reuben froze.
‘That’s Mum! In our car! It must be!’
It was. By that time I could see her face – a pale, narrow blur behind the windscreen – and I hobbled forward to greet her. You can imagine how happy I was. I forgot everything else: Danny, Gary, my foot, my empty stomach, Reuben’s insane jabbering about vampires – everything. All I wanted to do was crawl into our car and drive straight home.
The Abused Werewolf Rescue Group Page 28
