FORTY-SIX
Omar
I press my fingers against the sore on my head and it’s sticky. If only I’d answered the phone when my mum had called. The police would have come to get me and I’d be at the station trying to explain everything. That sounds bad, but nothing is as bad as where I am now, except death.
I’m trapped in a sloped cupboard. The door is wooden but appears to be locked and I can’t see a thing. I bang and bang against the door.
My head throbs and I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Reaching down, I feel the sores on my arms, long and stinging, like I’ve been dragged across a rough path. Have I been in a car? I try to recall the moments before my attack. Everything went dark and it was fast. I remember falling to the ground and the searing pain as I was hit. Next thing I know, I’m here. I didn’t see who did it. All I saw was the glint on the crowbar.
I saw Annabel’s dad. It had to be him. He must have hit me and brought me to this place as there was no one else around. Why would he do this to me? I bang again but I have no strength. The sound is dull. I think he’s put something heavy against the door so that I can’t get out. I’m not tied up which I’m thankful for. I’ve been ditched here.
Panic fills me and my chest tightens. What if he’s leaving the door closed until I die? I stare around but for what I can see, my eyes may as well be shut. This nothingness is the last thing I’m going to see before I perish.
I don’t want to die. I want to prove to my mum and everyone that I am good. I want to redeem myself in her eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to find Annabel and bring her home to her daughter. My face was going to be on the news for all the right reasons when I became the hero. All those kids who pick on me, they were going to like me and see how brave I was. My mum has always loved me but I wanted her to see that I could be the man that Dad was. Dad was fearless; he fought fires for a living. It doesn’t get more heroic but that’s what killed him. He was loved by all and my mother worshipped the ground he walked on. He was the same with her. He loved her. Now, all I am is a loser; a loser who was about to die in the shadow of my hero father.
All I wanted was for people to love me, to be proud of me, to want to be my friend or girlfriend. Sad? Maybe. But, this tiny dark room is sadder. This is where my story ends. I wish I’d got to explain to my mum why I’d taken her car. I wasn’t joyriding this time, I was trying to save Annabel. I needed it.
I flinch as I hear a bang. Someone is running above me. I’m under a flight of stairs. I bang and shout, that’s when my captor speaks.
‘No one is coming for you.’ That’s all he says.
FORTY-SEVEN
Half-slipping in the mud, half-running, Gina reached the boat.
‘Guv, we should wait for backup to arrive?’
A spec of rain landed on Gina’s nose as she turned back to Wyre. ‘What if he has Annabel in there?’
‘He might hurt her.’
‘I know, I know. Because of that, it might be best if we try to coax him out without the cavalry being here.’ If Gina could get her feet out of the sludge easily, she’d have paced while she contemplated her next move. Go in or wait for help? Go in. She stepped closer, holding her index finger to her lips, and whispered to the boatyard man to stay far back. ‘Grant, Annabel, are you in there?’
She flinched as one loud bang came from inside. ‘Annabel?’
No response. The only sound they could hear were the magpies squawking in a line on a branch above.
A short stepladder led up to the boat. Gina stepped onto the bottom rung and began her ascent. As the boat’s living quarters came into view, she could see that the brown and yellow curtains were closed. Moss and slime coated the bottom of the boat and there were footprints. It looked like someone had been pulled through the mess, leaving green and brown lines behind. Gina went to open the door but it was locked. She pushed slightly and it rattled. She knew if she slammed into it, it would open.
‘Guv, can you see anything?’ Wyre’s head appeared over the side.
‘I’m going to have to try smashing it down.’ She leaned against the door. ‘Police, open up.’
The person inside banged again.
‘Someone’s trapped in there.’ Gina stepped back and with all her weight, she pounded the door. Without too much effort, the ancient door flew open to reveal the living quarters. Several dirty pans and plates lay on the tiny bit of Formica worktop. ‘Police.’ Another bang came from the knocked together box in front of her. It was almost as tall as she was and it was made of rough, heavy, wooden sheets that had been carelessly nailed together. Several slide locks had been fixed to the door, keeping whoever was in there contained. She gritted her teeth as she moved the heavy weights from in front of it and slid all the locks in turn. She almost fell back when she saw the man bound and gagged, the stench of bodily fluids almost knocking her sick. His eyes, starkly staring at her in fear, were red rimmed and bruised. ‘It’s okay, police.’ She edged into the small space slowly and untied his wrists. ‘Grant.’
He was trying to speak. She untied the gag and he spat a hunk of dirty blood splattered material onto the wood.
‘Where’s Annabel?’ she asked him.
He scrunched his eyes as he adjusted to the light streaming through the door. ‘I don’t know. I had a message from her to meet me and the next thing I knew I woke up here.’ He opened his mouth, further breaking the tender skin at the corners of his mouth.
‘No messages were sent to your phone.’ She knew they’d requested ongoing data from his phone and nothing of any help had been found.
‘I have a burner phone.’
Gina thought of the drugs that they’d found at his house. Of course he had a burner phone. People like him always did. The man leaned forward and began untying himself. ‘Can you call an ambulance? We need to get him checked out.’ Wyre nodded and pulled her phone out.
