Blood Crazy (15 page)

Ten green bottles hanging on a wall
,

If one green bottle should accidentally fall …

The yard buzzed as we loaded the camping gear into the trucks; engines cranked into life. Del-Coffey moved the fastest I'd ever seen him move. He loped along the line of vehicles telling the drivers to get ready – we were pulling out in five minutes.

I stood with Dave Middleton by the lead bus as Del-Coffey, panting, climbed on board.

‘Get the lazy bastards to hurry up.' Del-Coffey's face was as red as a strawberry. ‘Creosote's not going to take forever to get here. If they cut across the fields they can block us leaving the yard.'

‘We've plenty of time,' said Dave. ‘Also, I think you've forgotten something.'

‘I've forgotten nothing. Let's get out of this pig-sty.'

‘We still haven't decided what we're going to do with the old guy in the lock-up.'

Del-Coffey laughed but I could tell he was just plain scared. ‘You
are
joking? Dave, there are two hundred of the murdering bastards watching us from that hill and you want to fart around with the one locked up in the barn. Jesus H. Christ … Leave him, for Godsakes. His pals'll be here any minute. Let them liberate him. Now … Come on!'

‘Martin,' Dave spoke calmly. ‘We don't know if they'll release him. If they don't he'll starve in there.'

‘That, old boy, is your problem. We're leaving, even if I have to drive this bloody bus myself.'

‘The Creosotes are more than two miles away. All we have to do is work out some way to safely unlock the door then we'll be on our way to the hotel.'

‘It's too dangerous. The moment you unlock that door he'll burst out of there and break your neck.'

‘Okay, Martin. Just give me a minute to think … Right. You take the convoy out onto the road. Follow the route Rebecca prepared before … Well, just follow that. I'll catch you up.'

Del-Coffey looked at him in disbelief. ‘You're going to risk your life to let out some mad bastard who'll kill you given half a chance? Your funeral, mate.'

Del-Coffey scrambled into the bus and started it up.

Dave turned to me. ‘Nick, will you lend me the Shogun? Once I've let the old man out I'll catch up with the convoy and you can have it back.'

‘You're taking a hell of a risk. If anything happens to you all these kids are up shit creek.'

‘Don't worry. I'll think of a way to get our chap free without risking my own neck.'

‘Let me stay and help, then.'

This surprised him. He looked up at me, touched. ‘Thanks, Nick, I appreciate it. Look, it's best if we have another pair of hands. I'll see if Curt will volunteer to stay with us.'

‘Are you sure? He looks tough but it doesn't take much to frighten him.'

‘He'll be okay.'

Dave headed off down the convoy looking for Curt. I went back to the Shogun and got Sarah and her sisters to join Del-Coffey in the bus up front. Then I backed the Shogun across to the barn.

The plan had been to stay here for a couple more days until the shock of Rebecca's death and the two suicides had subsided. But like all plans they had a tendency, at the drop of a hat, to be shot to buggery.

Dave Middleton had buried the three girls with his own hands in a
nearby cemetery. Driving back to the farm he'd spotted Family Creosote massing on a hillside two miles from the farm. There was no alternative but to up and go. The mob could be beating up the drive to the farm within thirty minutes.

From the barn doorway I watched the convoy lumbering out onto the road. I felt cold. I was sure Del-Coffey wouldn't wait for us. Without Rebecca Keene as backseat driver Del-Coffey put his foot down, leaving the rest of the convoy to follow as best it could.

‘What you going to do with him?'

‘Slatter?'

‘No, it's your fairy bloody godmother, who'd you think?'

Slatter oozed out of the shadows at the back of the barn like a bad memory. ‘So, what's happening to him in there?'

‘That's what Dave and me are going to work out. Why haven't you left with the convoy?'

‘You know what? You should kill him. Pour diesel in on him through the vent in the roof, then drop a match in.'

‘No. We're going to work out a way to get the door open without him killing one of us. Why aren't you on the bus, Slatter?'

He looked at me with those cruel eyes. It was an effort for him, but he was thinking. ‘Aten. What did your parents do to you?'

‘Nothing. I was out when it happened.'

‘Then they'll be looking for you. When they catch you they'll cut you to fuck.'

‘They'll not find me.'

‘They will, Aten. They'll follow you till the day you die.'

‘Yeah, and what do you know?'

Slatter fixed his eyes on me, then pointed at the lock-up. ‘Because that mad fucker in there is my father.'

With that, Slatter spat on the floor and walked out into the yard.

Anyone else I'd have said I was sorry. Not Slatter: I just watched the back of his tattooed neck as he stared into space, smoking a cigarette.

I looked through the gap into the lock-up.

Christ Almighty
. I jumped back a yard, my heart beating like a power hammer.

When I got over the shock, I looked in again. Cautiously this time. I hadn't expected to see that.

Mr Creosote, Slatter senior, stood at the other side of the door. The light-bulb eyes stared back into mine. He just stood and stared, his lips twitching in a way that told me something excited him. He seemed to sense something was going to happen soon.

‘Nick,' Dave strode into the barn followed sulkily by Curt. ‘Nick, Creosote's on the move. I reckon we've got fifteen minutes to release the gentleman in there and get away from here. Is Tug helping?'

‘I don't think he will. Did you know it's his father in there?'

‘Good Lord, no. Does he want us to try and take him with us?'

‘No, he doesn't want to do that. In fact, what he really wants to do is torch his old man.'

‘Heaven help him. Well … We haven't time to worry about that now. Let's just get the door open, then we can go.'

Curt stood in the doorway looking in the direction of family Creosote. ‘They're really shifting, Dave. They've made it as far as the crossroads.'

‘Don't worry, Curt,' said Dave. ‘That still gives us another ten minutes. Listen, this is what we do. Unlock the padlock – quietly – tie string to the steel pin that fits through the latch, there. Then run the string over that beam to the car. We climb in the car, I pull the string, that lifts out the pin – hey presto. Mr Creosote's a free man. Now, who's got the padlock key?'

We looked at one another.

‘Bloody Nora!' Curt turned white. ‘I forgot to ask Del-Coffey for it. He's taken it with him.'

I wanted to hit the idiot. My patience with him had already been wearing thin. That morning I had heard him laughing with some other kids as Dave made wooden crosses for the grave of the Singing Sisters and Rebecca.

Through his loose lips Curt had chuckled. ‘I suppose now you could call them the Swinging Sisters.'

‘Curt, there's a bunch of keys in the farmhouse. Fetch those. There might be a spare for the padlock.'

Curt sweated. ‘We haven't got time. Them crazy bastards are cutting across the fields. They'll be here in five minutes.'

‘Five minutes is enough, Curt. We are still civilized – we do not leave people locked up in a cell to starve. Bring the keys.'

Swearing, Curt ran to the house. I noticed Tug had climbed into the back of the car and sat watching us, his face expressionless.

The mob were half a mile from us. They were climbing over a fence in a dark wave. Dave had been generous giving them five minutes to reach us. I gave them three.

It only took a minute to tie the string to the padlock and trail it over the beam and through the open front passenger window of the car. I would drive, Dave would pull the padlock free from the safety of the car.

Curt came running back, panting through his loose wet lips. ‘They've made it as far as the bridge, Dave. It won't be long now. I think we—'

‘Get in the car, please, Curt.' Dave's patience was out. ‘In the back seat next to Tug. Nick and I will handle it now. Try the keys, Nick, please.'

There must have been twenty keys on the iron ring and my fingers were like frozen sausages. I pushed the first key into the padlock. Jesus, first time lucky … Shit. The key part turned but wouldn't shift the lock mechanism. Try again, Nick.

My blood thudded in my ears. I kept shooting glances over my shoulder at the driveway. Any minute now it would be swarming with lunatics hungry for our skin.

‘Don't worry, Nick. I'll keep a look out.'

By key six I was ready to quit. Suddenly it seemed a pointless exercise to let the madman out – he'd only kill us if he got the chance anyway. But we were playing the game Saint Dave of Doncaster's way. From the cell I heard a loud snort, almost the kind of noise horses make when they get excited.

My hands shook now as I forced the next key into the slot. This is stupid, Nick. You're going to get yourself killed … Get in the car, and drive, drive, drive, Nick. You're going to get yourself peeled like a banana and—

‘Got it, thank God!'

‘Thank God indeed.' Dave still sounded cool. I was sweating like a pig on its way to the bacon factory.

‘Now, Nick. Just release the lock. Leave the pin through the latch. Is the string still tied to it?'

‘Yep.'

‘Let's go.'

We ran back to the car. I revved her up as Dave climbed into the passenger seat and took up the string's slack.

‘Come on, come on!' Curt's eyes bulged. ‘The bastards are coming up the road!'

Slatter, sitting in the back, smoked a cigarette, and for all the notice he took of what was happening he could have been simply on his way to tea at Auntie Flo's.

Dave gently pulled the string. I saw the padlock jiggle. He pulled harder.

In the back Curt yelled, ‘Get a frigging move on! They've nearly reached the gates!'

I snapped back. ‘Curt. Shut it … Or you can get out and walk.' That shut him up. He sat in the back staring at me, his loose lips shaking.

‘No. The wretched thing's stuck.' Dave gave the string a tug. ‘The padlock moved but I can't slip it up out of the catch.'

I made a decision. A totally damn stupid decision – but I went for it. ‘Dave. Get behind the wheel.' I climbed out of the car.

‘What you doing?'

‘I'll just pull the thing out and run for it. Be ready to drive as soon as I'm back in the car.'

I don't know if Dave said a prayer for me but I saw his lips moving before I ran back into the barn.

Two yards from the lock-up door I saw the padlock had all but come out of the latch. I was standing with my hand out ready to lift the thing off when I heard the crash.

The door exploded open, kicked from the other side.

I froze still, arm stretched out. In the doorway the man stood, his light-bulb eyes burning into mine. If he'd moved then I wouldn't have stood a chance.

I snapped round and ran. The Shogun's passenger door yawned wide open and I just dived for it, bouncing head first into Dave's shoulder. He pumped the pedal and we were buzzing round the yard in a skidding turn.

I slammed my door shut as the madman bounded out of the barn.

I expected him to chase us, braying on the glass. Instead he sprinted across the yard and jumped onto the burned-out tractor to
stand, one foot on the seat, one foot on the charred tyre rim. He froze there, glaring at us, like some schizoid baboon, as we skidded the car round the yard and down the driveway to the road.

We pulled out as the first Creosotes rounded the corner fifty yards away. Within seconds the car left them behind.

I slumped in the passenger seat like a wet piece of rag.

‘We should be back with the convoy in a few minutes,' said Dave, smiling. ‘You did a good job, Nick. That took a lot of courage.'

I said nothing, but I made up my mind there and then. Whatever happens, Nick Aten. Never, ever, play the hero again.

‘Nick. Look at that.' Sarah leaned forward in her seat to get a better view. ‘We expected buildings and the fabric of civilization to decay, but I didn't think the rot would set in so soon.'

I looked in the direction she looked. There was a lake where no lake existed the week before.

‘We've had some heavy rain,' I said, slowing as the brake lights of the truck in front flashed red. ‘I didn't think we'd had that much.'

‘Doncaster's fairly low lying so there are lots of pumping stations dotted about to get rid of the water that accumulates in the drains.'

‘So, no electricity, no pumps pumping.'

‘That's about the size of it. A lot of the land around Doncaster is reverting to swamp.'

‘Look at the church,' cried Anne from the back seat.

Vicki jumped up to look. ‘It's like a boat, all surrounded by water.'

‘It looks as if we're going to get a taste of it now,' I said slowing the Shogun. ‘Lift up your feet so they don't get wet.'

I was joking but it was close. Ahead the road was flooded up to the axles. We ploughed through it more than a hundred yards before reaching the dry road at the other side. Just then I'd seen a
glimpse of the shape of things to come. It might take years but leaf falls, floods, soil erosion, plant growth would eventually make the roads vanish from the face of the Earth.