Numb: A Dark Thriller (26 page)

40

That night, he dreamt.

As usual, like so many dreams before, he was on a train, staring out the window at the morning sun as it hovered majestically above the hills and trees in the distance, illuminating the countryside with its yellow brilliance, showing off the beauty of nature to the full.

He could see the pale reflection of his face trapped within the glass and it stared back at him with eyes that were wide and amazed, eyes that wanted to take in the whole panorama, eyes that were filled with child-like wonder. He was ten years old and every day was an adventure. Everyday held something new and exciting.

He looked beside him to where Sandra was sitting. Wendy was propped on her knee, asleep under a small, pink blanket. Purvis was sitting opposite, tapping away at his laptop. The rest of the carriage was empty, the seats bobbing up at down as the train thundered across the tracks.

“Are you okay, Sweety?” his mother asked him, her voice echoing around the carriage.

“Yes,” Riley replied. He looked back out the window. “Where are we going again?”

“Away,” his father said, looking up from his laptop. “All of us. Together. A family.”

Riley smiled. He liked having a family. It felt right.

Outside he saw a flock of birds dive down from the sky and settle amongst the foliage of a birch tree by the river. He felt a tingle of excitement as he saw the bridge up ahead, one that would take them across the valley and onwards into the unknown.

“What if he finds us?” he asked.

Purvis smiled. Leant forward and ruffled Riley’s hair with a strong hand.

“He won’t. I won’t let him.” Then he went back to his computer.

The train sped up as it approached the bridge, the carriage rattling, the seats bobbing up and down violently like they were on a rough sea. Outside, the sun had disappeared. Thick, gloomy clouds now covered the sky. The wind began to whistle by the window. Spring seemed to give way to winter in the blink of an eye.

Riley looked down the hundred feet or so to the valley below as something caught his eye. Something fluttering in the breeze. Maybe a plastic bag or-

Then he saw that it was clothing, draped over the body of a child. From up here the child looked like one of his action figures he had at home. Small and doll-like. False and made of plastic. The eyes seemed to have no pupils and stared at nothing. Strangely, he recognised the child. Someone from school? No. He knew him from somewhere, though. His name was Jamie. Jamie Hudson. He liked ice-cream. Where did he know him from?

As the train continued onto the bridge, Riley saw more figures close to Jamie, appearing as if from nowhere, all of them still and lifeless. He reached out a hand and tugged at his mother’s arm, the first knots of terror twisting in his stomach, making his insides cold.

He turned his head towards her as he heard something fall to the carriage floor and his breath caught in his throat.

His mother was slumped in her seat, eyes wide and glasslike, staring through him. Her skin was pale and even without touching her he knew it would be as cold as marble. Wendy had fallen to the floor, face first, the blanket covering her lower half as she lay as motionless and as lifeless as Jamie and the others outside.

“Daaaad!”

Looking across, he saw Purvis was just as dead, rigid in his chair, his fingers still poised above the laptop’s keyboard, like he was frozen in time.

The carriage began to shake more. The noise of the engines grew louder.

“What’s going on?” Riley’s voice echoed. “Help, please, somebody...” But there was no one else. It was just him, alone with his dead family.

The lights flickered in the carriage. Off/On. Off/On. Off...

On again. Dimmer than before.

Then suddenly someone else was there, standing at the far end of the carriage.

The figure was nothing but a shadow. It began to move towards him, seeming to hover above the floor. Riley couldn’t see any legs, couldn’t hear any feet pounding the floor. But it was coming closer to him. It had no face. It wasn’t real. This whole thing wasn’t real!

He then noticed his father had disappeared from his seat. He looked for his mother and noticed she had gone also. Wendy wasn’t on the floor, either, face down under the blanket, dead. He really was alone now, alone with this... this
thing
coming towards him.

He tried to scream but no sound would come.

The figure loomed closer, growing larger, becoming more solid, until finally, terrifyingly, a face broke out of the shadow, bald and menacing, a thick cigar between its teeth as it stared with evil, tiger-like eyes at the cowering child.

“Message for Riley....”

The words had barely left the monster’s mouth before the train jerked forward and suddenly lost speed. There was a grinding of metal, the crank and groan of pistons and pulleys and then, suddenly, the explosive sound of disintegrating brickwork beneath Riley’s feet.

The figure vanished as the train plummeted down from the bridge, sending Riley tumbling sideways, out of his seat and onto the floor, the suitcases and duffle bags of a hundred non-existent passengers swamping him, suffocating him, saving his life as the train crashed onto the valley floor less than five seconds later.

Silence.

Off/On.

Off/On.

Off.

In the dark, everything remained quiet. Riley lay under the luggage for what seemed like an eternity, staring into the abyss.

So this is what death feels like
? he thought.
Death feels like nothing
.
You don’t feel anything; no pain at all. You can’t even feel your own body. You can only think. It’s just you and your mind...

Then, finally, there was a light, a strong beam which picked out his face. He thought he blinked as the light went across his eyes but couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t in his body was he? He couldn’t feel anything. How would he know if he blinked or not?

Footsteps echoed as someone drew closer. There was the crackle of a radio. Riley didn’t bother trying to shout for help. He couldn’t feel his mouth.

Then a figure appeared in front of him through a gap in the fallen luggage. Riley could see a yellow helmet and a dirty jacket with luminous patches on it. There was a name on the breast pocket.

Mc... something or other.

Riley couldn’t make it out in the dark. It began with an ‘M’ and ended in ‘BE’, that’s all he knew.

He remained still (what else could he do?) as the fireman began to pull the suitcases and bags to one side.

“It’s alright, little fella,” the fireman said, soothingly. “It’s alright. I’ve found you.”

Riley now wanted to speak, wanted to move but his brain refused. Even when the fireman leant close and took off his helmet, even when enough light revealed a face contorted with evil grinning features, and even when he pulled out the knife and slowly pushed it towards the young boy’s face, Riley remained frozen.

“I’ve found you...” the fireman said and jabbed the knife forward. “An eye for an eye...”

Then Riley woke up.

Found himself lying on his back, in his bed, the room lit by the early rays of morning sunlight. He was breathing hard and his body was slick with a fine sheet of sweat.

“Well,” he said to himself. “That was a new one.”

41

After twenty-five years of nightmares, Riley had learned not to let them bother him. He’d never been into the idea that dreams held any relevance in the real world. They were produced by the subconscious mind, engineered by memories and experiences, often distorting both into surreal and disturbing images. They meant nothing and usually within ten minutes of waking they were forgotten.

This one, however, seemed willing to cling to him like a parasite.

Still, he pushed it to the back of his mind and by eight-thirty he changed into his tracksuit and was out jogging along the riverbank as another working day loomed for the residents of the city. The weather was damp, the air refreshing and so he diverted from his usual route and added an extra two miles to his circuit. He’d push himself that little bit harder this morning. Get his blood pumping and hopefully flush his brain of the nightmare.

By the time he returned home forty-minutes later, sweating and with jelly-legs, there were only faint remnants of the dream left, like dying embers in a fire that, if given time and no more fuel, would fade away completely.

After showering and changing his clothes, the memory of the dream did just that and soon today felt like any other for Riley. It was Wednesday, the middle of the week. Usually on Tuesdays and Wednesdays he would relax around the house. Maybe watch a couple of films or catch up on some reading. But today he found himself listless, thinking about Purvis and Sandra, and expecting the phone to ring at any moment because Nash had found the note.

He finished breakfast and no one called.

He watched some T.V and dozed on the sofa.

Still no calls.

At three, still feeling restless, he went for another jog. After another shower he lay on the bed and read a few pages of a war novel he’d picked up a couple of weeks back but hadn’t gotten round to starting yet.

He gave up after five pages and went back to the television.

There was nothing on that interested him, so he spent half an hour channel hopping.

When his mobile rang at five, he was almost glad. At least the waiting was over.

“Meeting in an hour,” Turner said.

“What’s up?” Riley asked, knowing exactly what was up.

“Just be there.”Turner wasn’t usually that brief or vague. Nash had obviously found the note. The hunt for Purvis was on.

Riley hung up. Got dressed. Ran through what he was going to say in his head and then drove to the unit above the butcher’s and arrived half an hour early.

He noticed McCabe’s Toyota parked up beside Turner’s Audi. Howden was here also; Riley noticed his Honda parked across the road. The meeting was scheduled for six and everyone was already here? That spelled bad news.

He could imagine what had gone on this afternoon.

Nash would have gone back to the mansion at some point, maybe for clothes or toiletries or money. He would have found the note and the paternity test and immediately tried to call Purvis or Sandra, but both of them were off-line, the two of them and Wendy vanished into the wide blue yonder. Nash would instantly assume Riley knew what was going on. He and Purvis were friends. Purvis would have confided in him. The meeting was scheduled for six and everyone but Riley had been asked to get there early because Riley couldn’t be trusted. He was in on all of this. He knows where Purvis and Sandra are. And he’s going to tell us.

That’s what all of this was about.

Riley put on his best game face, used his key to unlock the door and headed up to the stairs.

When he entered, Turner nodded a greeting at him but remained straight faced. Howden and McCabe glanced in his direction and then down at the drinks in their hands. The atmosphere was tense. Riley knew he’d been talked about.

Nash was sat at the bar. His shirt was creased and his usual shining shaved head was dull, stubble growing in at the sides. There was stubble on his cheeks and chin also, and his eyes, although red-rimmed and glazed, had lost the despair that had been ingrained in them and were wide and staring. The Tiger was off his diet and eyeing his prey again – and Riley appeared to be on the menu.

“Sit down, Riley,” he said. There was no emotion in his voice. His tone was flat, almost disinterested. But his eyes said differently.

Riley took a seat beside Howden, who looked up briefly and then back into his glass.

After a full thirty seconds of silence, Nash finally said, “You know what this is about, Riley. So start talking.”

Riley feigned surprise and shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he lied. “Turner called and said there was a meeting at six. I figured it was about what happened yesterday.”

“Cut the shit!” Nash spat. “Where are they?”

“They?” he said in the best confused tone he could fake. “What’re you talking about? What’s going on?”

You were seen!
his brain screamed.
Someone saw you with Purvis last night. Or maybe with Sandra. Shit, yes. Maybe the copper who let her into the house said that a man was with her and gave a description of you. They know you helped them...

Still, Riley kept up the act and looked at each of the other men in turn, as if to prove he was lost with the conversation.

“You want to know what’s going on?” Nash said, getting to his feet and strolling closer, past the pool table. “You expect me to believe that you haven’t a clue what I’m talking about?”

They saw you!

“I
don’t
know what’s going on,” Riley said. He stood up when the others in the room got to their feet, turning on him as Nash walked closer. He knew from experience when trouble was about to go off. This wasn’t an act. He was in danger here. But he had to act natural. It was his only chance. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re on about, boss?”

Nash picked up the pool cue that was leaning against the wall, unscrewed it in the middle and let the thinner end clatter to the ground. Gripping the thick end like a club, he walked even closer to Riley.

Riley didn’t budge.

“Start talking,” Nash warned, tapping the cue against the palm of his left hand, “or I’ll beat it out of you. Where are they?”

“Whoa, boss,” Turner said and suddenly stepped between Nash and Riley. “Calm down. Riley was probably as much in the dark about this as the rest of us. Let’s hear him out first.”

Riley relaxed a little. He hadn’t been seen with Purvis last night. What was more, by the tone of Turner’s voice, he obviously wasn’t suspected of anything by any of the others. Only Nash – which was still a big problem.

“In the dark about what?” Riley said, the confidence now returning to his charade. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s about that fucker Purvis,” Nash said. “Him and Sandra.”

“Purvis and Sandra?”

“Did you know they were fucking each other?” Nash asked directly.

“Of course not,” Riley said. He could have been nominated for an Oscar the way the words fell from his mouth along with a shocked exhale. “I had no idea. This is all news to me.”

“You’re lying,” Nash said, pointing one end of the pool cue in his face.

“How would
I
know what was going on between them?” Riley said.

Got to be careful here,
he thought.
Nash is unstable. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. Sometimes you can’t reason with people...

“Because you and him were mates.” Nash said. “You were always talking like a couple of fucking schoolgirls. He would’ve confided in you.”

“Boss,” Riley said calmly. “I’m telling you, I had no idea. Anyway, how do you know all of this? How did you find out?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Nash said - and it didn’t. Riley had been right. He’d obviously found the note earlier today at some point. “All I know is that those two have taken me for a fool and now Sandra’s gone and so has Purvis. He’s not at home and he’s not answering his phone.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Riley said, continuing his Mr-In-The-Dark act.

“They’ve fucked off together, Riley!” Nash shouted. “And I want to know where they are. Now!”

“I’ve already said I-”

“And I said I don’t believe you!”

Nash swung the pool cue forward.

In the split second it came at him, Riley judged that it would miss his head by about three inches. He didn’t budge as the Mohammad Ali picture behind him shattered.

As the glass feel from the frame Riley wondered weather the shot was a deliberate miss to try and frighten him or if Nash was just too out of it to aim straight.

“Talk!” Nash screamed and Riley suddenly had had enough. He had to end this or risk Nash having another go with the pool cue.

“Why would I lie?” he asked, raising his voice. “Are you saying you don’t trust me now? For fuck’s sake, Mike, I was the one who tried to catch the fuckers that killed Michael junior last week. I did more than anyone in this room and you say you don’t trust me?”

“You didn’t catch them, though, did you?” Nash said.

“What?”

“Maybe the chase was all part of it,” Nash said. “Maybe you were in on it, and the car chase was just a good alibi. Maybe you were in on the bombings too. Yeah, you
and
Purvis. Trying to get me out of the way so he could have Sandra.”

Riley looked up at the ceiling and felt like laughing at how ridiculous Nash sounded. Not only was he barking up the wrong tree, he was in the wrong fucking forest!

“Come on, boss,” Turner said. “You know Riley had nothing to do with the attacks.”

Nash’s head snapped round and his bulging eyes burned into his second man. Turner didn’t look away because Howden soon backed him up.

“Yeah, Riley’s okay.”

“Riley’s one of us,” McCabe joined in – the cheeky fucker!

“I don’t think he is,” said Nash, not listening. He turned back to Riley. “Like I said, how do we
know
you weren’t involved?”

Time to play his ace.

“How about this?” Riley lifted his shirt. Showed off the healing bullet wound. The hole was now covered by a fresh layer of healthy skin that glistened (good old Dr Carter and his antibiotics) and the bruising was nothing but a faint smudge of yellow-grey.

Nash stared at it. So did Turner. Howden said, “You got shot?”

“After I chased them – yeah. That’s why I didn’t come back to the club afterward.”

“You went to hospital?” Turner asked.

Riley shook his head as he tucked his shirt back in his trousers. “No, I know someone who deals with this kind of thing.”

“You never said you got shot,” Nash said, slowly.

“It was nothing serious,” Riley replied.

“But you still took a bullet,” Nash said. His eyes seemed to mist over, like he was suddenly talking to a long lost friend. “You did that for... for Michael?”

Riley nodded.

A long silence followed. Then Nash pushed out his bottom lip and nodded slowly, like a man who had just had some divine knowledge bestowed upon him.

Riley knew he’d fooled them all.

“Alright,” Nash said. He propped the pool cue against the wall and walked back to the bar as if the previous few minutes had never happened. “I just had to check. This game makes you paranoid.” He sat down and picked up his drink. “So, Purvis never let anything slip about him or Sandra?”

“No,” Riley said, sitting back down himself. “I can’t even imagine anything going on between them. He didn’t seem her type.”

“That slut doesn’t have a type.” Nash laughed to himself. “She played me like a fool. Even made me bring up a kid that wasn’t mine.”

Act shocked,
Riley thought.
He hasn’t mentioned Wendy to you. Act like it’s the biggest thing you’ve heard yet!

“Wendy’s...
Purvis’s
kid?” he asked.

Nash nodded and then barked, “I want them found and dealt with.”

“I understand, boss,” Turner said. “I really do. But what about Dainton? I thought you would want him taken care of first. And it might take weeks to find Purvis.”

“Dainton will get what’s coming to him,” Nash said. “Don’t worry, we’ll take that bastard out too, but finding Purvis is a priority. Dainton’s an enemy but Purvis was meant to be a friend. You expect an enemy to betray you and you can live with that, but when a mate does it there’s no excuse.”

“Okay,” Turner said. “We’ll put the word around and see if anyone has seen him or the girls. But then again, maybe they’ll try to get out of the country. The obvious thing to do would be to put some air-miles between you and them.”

“Sandra left in a hurry,” Nash said, shaking his head. “Her passport was still in the house. I checked.”

“That means if they’re going abroad then they’d need new ones,” Howden said, thinking for once. “That’s good. It gives us time.”

“Yeah, but for all we know they could’ve been planning this for months,” Riley said, playing along, but also hoping to make them think that Purvis and the girls were long gone by now. “They could’ve had everything they need in place already.”