Give Yourself Away (6 page)

There was no one around and only a couple of vehicles left in the car park. He checked his phone but there were no messages, and no one had called. He ought to drive to town and find a place to stay, but now he was awake, his thoughts had started to race, all trying to take the lead. Was someone after him?

He locked the car and set off on foot along the coastal path while there was still light. He needed space to think.

Except thinking was a problem. He couldn’t let his mind continue down the only path he could imagine because it led to an impossible conclusion—Liam was the one who attacked Mike, which meant Liam wasn’t dead. But he
was
dead.

Caleb’s anxiety level lurched even higher. No one should know who he really was or where he was living. No one except maybe Jasim. Savior, friend, abuser—Caleb still wasn’t sure which, though he did know he was scared of Jasim. One rule broken, one quick search online and Jasim had known.

Caleb hadn’t dared to become visible again. No more searching online, but he had looked at newspaper archives. Jasim hadn’t said he couldn’t do that. The agreement between them was that they’d never contact each other, though Jasim had been quick to contact him when Caleb had taken that risk. Caleb had no idea how to find Jasim, but maybe Jasim knew exactly where he was at any time. Not something that made him feel comfortable. Caleb had a new name and the only photos in the paper or on the TV had been of him as a child, not as an adult. There had been a few attempts to show him as an older teenager, but Caleb hadn’t recognized himself. The relief had been huge.

Although he returned to the area where he grew up, Caleb had done nothing to draw attention. Until this attack on Mike, apart from that one risky venture on the Internet that was found out, Caleb had existed well below the radar. Even Simon’s death hadn’t pulled him into the spotlight. If Liam was alive—big
if
—why would he care whether Mike was sorry? If Jasim was behind this, why after all this time?

“I’m the only one allowed to hurt you.”
—Liam’s words.

Caleb shuddered. Liam had told him that often enough, even shown him in his warped way. But he was dead. Shit. The freaky bastard was dead. Definitely dead. Almost definitely.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.
Had he made a mistake? Had Liam or Jasim tricked him?
Caleb had watched enough crime programs to come up with a scenario where Liam had pretended to be dead, or gone into some sort of shocked state that made it look as though he were dead or that it hadn’t been him at all but someone who looked like him. He’d fooled Caleb once with his scruffy blond hair and moustache, and that scar on his cheek that he peeled off with a laugh.

Stupid. Liam was dead, Caleb was sure of it. Jasim had no reason to—
Stop it. Turn around. Get in the car. Drive north, west, east.
Not south into the sea, though the idea tempted.
Why did I even come back here?

A dog walker greeted him and Caleb started, his heart jumping in fear. In the gathering gloom, he found himself moving too quickly along the path but he couldn’t slow down. He could never flee far enough or run fast enough to escape a monster he couldn’t see. He imagined flesh-eating zombies chasing him and it helped him run faster until it was as though he were running in a dream where reality blended with fantasy. He was in the world and yet outside of it.

Dimly aware he was no longer on the well-worn clifftop trail but blundering through shrubs and leaping from rock to rock, Caleb had descended so deep into his imagination that he couldn’t pull out. Caught in the grip of something out of his control, all that filled his head was desperation to get away, so Liam couldn’t catch him, so no one could.

The ground was beneath his feet.

Then it wasn’t.

Caleb dropped into nothing.

A moment later he hit freezing water, went under and flailed, kicking to emerge with a gasp into blackness, sucking air and treading water because he couldn’t feel the bottom.

Caleb ripped his phone from his pocket and held it up. He gave a whimper of relief when it still worked, and shed enough light for Caleb to see he’d fallen into a cave. He was lucky his lenses hadn’t popped out. Aware his mobile could stop working at any moment if water had leaked into it, Caleb swam around in the freezing cold, trying to find a way out.

He finally crawled onto a ledge of wet rock, trembling from the cold and the shock of what happened. His phone might be working but he had no signal. He yelled for help and the sound echoed around him.

Waves surged forward and the noise scared him, the water hissing and slapping at his feet like a flood of snakes. Was the tide coming in or going out? He used the flash from the phone’s camera to get a better look, pressing the button time and again, scaring himself more each time until he accepted he was trapped.

Think. Think.
The water had to be getting in somewhere, which meant it was flowing out too. Caleb stopped using his phone and let his eyes grow accustomed to the dark. Almost opposite where he sat, he caught glimpses of small changes in the shades of gray darkness and worked out it had to be the mouth of the cave. The opening was small now because the tide was high, but when it dropped, there would be a way out. Though when a wave splashed his knees and Caleb registered the water was still rising, he knew if he didn’t go back into it and look for the way out, he’d drown.

Caleb shuddered as he slid into the sea, holding his phone as high as he could, his finger over the button that would give him a burst of light. His teeth chattered so hard he thought they’d break. Waves hit his face, the water lifted him up, dragged him down. He kicked his way through the blackness, sculling with one hand. All he had to do was find the place the water was coming in.

But he couldn’t. There seemed to be no variations in the light level now and his eyes struggled to adjust to the flashes from his phone. He was too afraid to dive down to search, too afraid of getting trapped underwater and too afraid to lose the little light he had.

With a sob of frustration, he let the sea carry him back to the ledge. He tried to climb higher, but kept slipping back on the slick rock. Finally, he collapsed and screamed for help over and over. His cries rolled right back at him but he kept yelling until he had no voice left. He pushed to his feet and stood pressed against rock, feeling it wet behind his head and he knew the water would overwhelm him.

I’m going to die.

How many times had he thought that after he’d been taken? How long before he’d wanted to die and understood it wouldn’t be allowed to happen? How long before he was determined to live? After all he’d been through, he didn’t want things to end like this.

Caleb wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conserve his body heat. Maybe the tide would turn soon. Maybe all he had to do was wait. But fear, like the water, kept rising in his throat and curled around his limbs like a constricting snake. Even though he’d stopped shouting, he could still hear himself screaming. Except that was then, not now. That moment when Liam, the man with dead eyes, said Caleb was his.

Caleb clung on to the rock as water swirled around his calves, thought about trying to swim again, but couldn’t make himself do it. If he left his phone on a ledge, what if he couldn’t find it if he didn’t discover a way out? His only hope was that when it became too deep to stand, he could tread water, maybe float up to where it would be easier to climb to a dry spot. Then he’d wait until the tide went out and pray hypothermia didn’t get him first.

Chapter Six

Baxter imagined Tye racing away, willing him to be careful, urging him to move quickly.
Tye could run fast, but they didn’t know where they were. If they were lucky there might be a house next door. On the other hand, they could be in the middle of nowhere. Tye might end up lost, or he might fall and break his leg. Baxter wished he were running with him, but there was no way he’d fit through that window. He pushed to his feet, dragged the mattress back to the middle of the room and dropped onto it to wait.

Liam was going to be angry. He hadn’t been angry with them yet, but Baxter could feel it bubbling under the surface of his skin like boils about to erupt. Baxter wished he’d never stopped to talk to him. His mum had told him not to speak to strangers, but it wasn’t as if Liam had approached them, it was the other way around. That was why Baxter had thought Liam was safe. He looked harmless. Baxter was an idiot.

Baxter wasn’t sure if Tye had understood what Liam wanted with them and was only pretending he didn’t, but, then, Baxter had pretended too. Pretended the police would find them soon, though it had been five days since they were taken. Pretended nothing bad would happen to them and this would have a happy ending and be an adventure that would make them heroes at school.

The tray of food still lay at the top of the steps. Because they’d spent so much time sleeping, they’d worked out Liam was drugging them. Yesterday’s meals had gone down the toilet and they had drunk from the sink. Though being half-asleep wasn’t all bad. It stopped them worrying, and let Baxter hold Tye without feeling like a perv.

He’d not had the chance to tell Tye how much he liked him. Maybe now he never would. Baxter curled up, worried about what would happen when Liam realized Tye was gone. What if Liam caught Tye and didn’t come back?

He tensed as the door opened. Liam shoved Tye down the steps, the tray falling with him. Baxter stumbled to his feet and rushed to Tye’s side. Tye’s mouth was bleeding and his T-shirt was ripped.

“No more of that shit,” Liam snapped. “You better start thinking about how to make me happy. Tell me when you’ve picked which one of you I should let go.”

“What?” Baxter croaked.

“Two of you are too much trouble. You plot. I only want one. I’ll drive the other somewhere and drop them off. Decide who that’s going to be.”

Baxter knew he wouldn’t be letting one of them go.

* * *

A wave broke in March’s face and he spit out a mouthful of salt water. In the gathering darkness, Brian, on helm, steered Lymton’s Royal National Lifeboat Institution D-class inflatable through the increasing swell. March and the other volunteer crew member, Kev, clung on to the sides of the craft as it reared and plunged in the rough seas, like a bucking bronco.

It was six in the evening and within six minutes of their pagers going off, their boss, Brian, had picked out March and Kev to crew, and they’d kitted up in thermal wear, drysuits, safety helmets and life jackets. They were heading out to sea in search of a man reported by a guy walking his dog as having fallen off the cliffs at Dorney Point. March didn’t think the chances of surviving the fall were good.

When they arrived at the foot of the cliffs, there was no sign of anyone in the water. Brian cut the engine and they shouted. No response.

“Try the flares,” Brian said.

March wedged the waterproof container between his knees to unscrew it and took out two white parachute flares. The light they’d shed would keep the area illuminated while they scoured the waves for the missing guy. March released one flare after the other and they exploded in the sky, turning the scene bright for several seconds, but there was no sign of anyone in the water.

“Nothing.” Brian restarted the engine.

“Damn,” Kev muttered. “Even if the fall didn’t kill him, he’s probably been knocked senseless on the rocks.”

March let his gaze drop from where lights were flickering on the clifftop, all the way down to the sea, trying to work out where the guy had fallen, wondering if maybe he hadn’t made it into the water and was on the cliff face or maybe he’d fallen through a hole in the rock.

“Isn’t that Dorney Cave ahead of us?” March asked. “Maybe he didn’t go over the edge but through an opening on the clifftop. It’d look as though he fell over the edge because he’d just disappear.”

“You think?” Brian asked. “Aren’t the dangerous sections roped off?”

“Yep but maybe he ignored the signs. It’s worth a look,” Kev said.

Brian powered the craft straight toward the cliff face and a rush of excitement fired March’s veins. As they drew nearer the jagged rocks that marked the entrance to a cave only accessible on foot at very low tide, there was a faint, brief reflection on the water at the bottom of the cliff.

When it came again, Brian pulled closer. “That’s a light. Maybe a flashlight or a phone. You’re right. He’s in there. Christ.”

“We can’t make it through that gap,” Kev said.

The opening to the cave had been narrowed by the incoming tide, the size of the aperture changing with every surge of the sea until it almost disappeared. The boat was caught in a sudden large swell and Brian fought to stop them being heaved against the cliff.

“It’s too rough.” Kev shook his head. “I vote no.”

Brian looked at March.

“Go for it,” March said, which made Brian’s the casting vote, although as skipper he could override them anyway. “If you don’t, he’ll drown.”

Brian maneuvered the craft in from a different angle but the surging sea pushed them into the opening, and March had to duck to avoid hitting his helmet.

“We’re going to get stuck,” Brian yelled. “I’ll have to take her back out.”

As the boat pulled away, March shouted, “I’m going in.” He threw himself overboard before Brian could tell him not to. And he would have told him not to. Shit, it was fucking cold. Even through all his layers he could feel the chill.

“You’re not attached,” he heard Kev call.

I know.
The line would be a hindrance in the confined space and a way for them to pull him back before he’d completed his search. His life jacket had inflated and March let the water carry him toward the cave entrance. When he was a fraction away from colliding with rock, he waited for the next incoming wave, took a deep breath and kicked under.

He wasn’t submerged for long but the fear of not finding anywhere to surface or being pushed up by his buoyancy to be trapped against rock overhead made him desperate to take a breath. He used the rock to pull himself forward as far as he could and then powered up, bursting into the air and filling his lungs.

When he spun around he spotted a weak source of light several yards away. Thank fuck for that.

“He’s in here. Alive,” March said into his mouthpiece, though he only heard a crackle in reply.

He pressed the light attached to his life jacket onto the Velcro on his helmet and swam to the back of the cave. A young guy, soaked to the skin, stood up to his knees in water. He was shaking violently.

“Are you injured?” March asked.

“No. Oh G-God. You’re r-r-real? Not a f-f-figment of my imagination? Th-thank you.”

Don’t thank me or God yet.
“What’s your name?”

“C-Caleb J-Jones.”

“Okay, Caleb. I’m March and I’m going to get you out of here.”

He turned so his helmet would shed light on the mouth of the cave, but it was hard to tell where the opening was. He spoke again into his radio with no expectation he’d be heard, but it might reassure the guy.

“Coming out.” He turned to Caleb. “Ready for a swim? My life jacket can support up to four people. I’ll clip you on and I won’t let you go. But you have to stay calm and trust me. No panicking or you’ll drown us both.”

The guy nodded.

“Bringing him out,” March yelled and after he’d fastened Caleb on, he backed into the water.

He was relieved the guy didn’t panic, but swimming with him was still exhausting because he was having to battle against the incoming tide. When they reached the far end of the cave, March clung to an overhang, waiting for the sea to drop. He watched the way the water surged and swirled, trying to identify the place that would lead to open sea and not a dead end and a rocky grave.

“Hold your breath on three,” March said and the moment the water eddied before drawing back, he counted. “One, two, three.”

On three, he pulled Caleb under and kicked hard. March felt his way out, hands following the line of the rock, wondering if he’d made a mistake and this wasn’t going to take them out. But he saw a light, knew it was the boat and tugged the guy up.

Kev pulled Caleb to safety and unclipped him, and March hauled himself on board.

“We’ll be having words,” Brian said, putting the boat into reverse.

As Brian headed back to shore, Kev slipped Caleb into a life jacket, then wrapped him in a thermal blanket. The man’s face was white.

“His name’s Caleb Jones,” March said.

“Open your eyes, Caleb,” Kev said. “You need to stay awake. What happened?”

“Fell.” Caleb’s teeth chattered. “Dropped into the cave. Used the light from my phone.”

“It saved your life,” Kev said. “That and March.”

Kev sheltered him as the boat reared up in the water and March found himself unable to take his gaze away from Caleb’s face. It was as if no one else in the boat existed. There was a translucent quality to Caleb’s skin that made him look as though he’d been hewn from alabaster. His dark hair was plastered to his head, his lips were bloodless and his eyes almost black in the dim light, but there was something about him that made him think Caleb had secrets too. Maybe they had that in common.
More
than that in common.

Oh fuck. Get your head in gear.
If he’d been on land, March would have walked away. Fast. As it was, he turned to look out to sea.

Within minutes, Brian had the craft back onshore and Caleb had been passed into the hands of the paramedics.

“When you’ve cleaned the boat, showered and changed, I want to speak to you,” Brian snapped.

“Okay.”

March helped Kev load the boat on the trailer so that it could be towed back to the lifeboat station.

“You’re in trouble,” Kev said.

“Looks like it.” March fastened the straps on his side.

“What were you thinking?” Kev asked.

“That I couldn’t let someone drown if there was a chance to save them.”

While Kev chatted to the tractor driver, March walked up the beach. He frowned when he saw a guy wrapped in a foil blanket, who had to be the one they’d just rescued, getting into a taxi. There was no sign of the ambulance and a police car was pulling out of the car park. Why hadn’t they taken him to the hospital? He was on the verge of hypothermia, if not already there. He needed monitoring. But then what the hell did it have to do with him? Maybe the guy had lied and hadn’t fallen. Maybe he’d jumped and when he’d survived changed his mind. Maybe the secrets weren’t ones March needed to know.

March hoped Brian would have calmed down by the time he walked into the office, but when he saw the guy’s scowl, he braced himself.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Brian barked.

March leaned against the door. “About a guy dying.” Just didn’t happen to be that particular one, at least not when he’d thrown himself into the water.

“You’ve been trained. You know the procedure. What you did was reckless. It endangered all of us.”

“Sorry.”

“Could you at least make the effort to sound sincere? Just because we had a good result doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. I have to write it up, March.”

March shrugged.

“We work as a team. You’re not a team player. We don’t even go on a call without authority. We do everything by the book.”

“You wanted me to agree with you to try to get into the cave.”

“True, but I didn’t want you to chuck yourself in the water until we’d at least discussed it. You didn’t even fasten yourself on. Have you got a fucking death wish? This isn’t the first time you’ve risked your life.”

“We all risk our lives every time we go out.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Yeah, I do.

Brian sighed. “Until I’ve talked to Richard, you’re suspended.”

March almost laughed. Two suspensions in one day. Maybe he should try to get banned from the pub and make it three. He put his pager on the table.

“Go home and think about why you volunteered for the RNLI,” Brian said.

“I don’t need to think about it. I did it to save lives.” March walked out.

I am such a fucking liar.
A byproduct of volunteering to be a member of the lifeboat crew was that he might stop people dying, but it was his own life March was trying to save, or maybe end in the process.
This is not living.

March strode to his car. He’d give the pub a miss, just in case.