No Holds Barred (30 page)

The alleyway they were following was taking them further away from the hole in the fence, and when they rounded a corner to be faced with the choice of another left turn or a cul-de-sac, Daniel caught Dek's arm and pointed at the wall of scrap on their right.

‘We need to go that way,' he yelled, and with a glance behind at the approaching horror of the machine, Dek nodded. ‘OK.'

Together, they launched themselves at the mound of rusting metal, climbing from the roof of a long-dead car to the precarious slope of a sheet of corrugated iron and on up over the booming hollowness of an oil tank. Their frantic progress was slowed by other items of junk slipping and sliding away under their weight, and Daniel was very aware of the multitude of ragged metal edges that threatened horrific injury should a step be misplaced.

Descending the other side of the metal mountain ridge was, if anything, more perilous than the ascent had been, as their momentum carried them faster than they could plan their route. Daniel caught his foot as he neared the bottom and landed sprawling on the gritty surface of the track. Dek reached a hand down under his armpit and hauled him to his feet. Apparently, their alliance was now sealed.

‘Where now?' he shouted, and Daniel pointed right.

Barely had they started in that direction when they faltered to a halt, their way blocked, not only by Taylor but also his brother Ricky, baseball cap turned back to front, sitting astride his quad bike with the shotgun across his knees and an expression of evil glee on his spotty face.

Daniel hesitated. To go the other way meant they would be heading away from their goal once more and it would very likely bring them to a dead end, just as the parallel track had done. He looked unenthusiastically at the mound of scrap metal that stood between them and where they wanted to be. They had no choice.

As if to underline the fact, the machine behind them geared down, revved up and attacked the pile of metal they had just scrambled over.

‘He's coming through!' Dek yelled, and, galvanized into action, they threw themselves at the second mound.

As he climbed, Daniel consoled himself with the thought that the proximity of the earthmover should at least keep Taylor and Ricky off their backs for the time being. However, unless he and Dek got a move on, they might well find the Boyd siblings waiting for them on the other side.

A glance back as they gained the top wasn't reassuring. The monster machine was surging through the metal debris, pushing a tide of scrap ahead of it with its lowered bucket, like the bow-wave from a boat.

Throwing caution to the wind, he and Dek charged down the other side, leaping and bounding from one semi-stable object to another, trying desperately to keep their footing. Something sharp grazed Daniel's ankle and a spike pierced the thick sole of his shoe, but by some miracle he reached the ground safely.

Dek wasn't so lucky. As he touched down seconds after Daniel, he was clutching his leg just below the knee where the fabric of his jeans was rapidly darkening with blood. He looked up at Daniel, his face contorted with pain, and uttered one short, sharp expletive.

‘It's just over there,' Daniel shouted, pointing. ‘Here. Lean on me.'

Dek draped his arm across Daniel's shoulders, leaning heavily as he hopped at his side, dragging his left leg uselessly. Behind them, the machine's engine roared once more and the pile of metal shivered as the onslaught began. Taking much of Dek's weight, Daniel hurried down the narrowing trackway towards the last corner, behind which – if his sense of direction hadn't let him down – should be the perimeter fence with its comforting triangle of bent back panel.

A quick look over his shoulder revealed the shifting mass of metal gaining on them with a grinding, squealing cacophony, and he redoubled his efforts. They were too close to fail now.

With their breath coming in hoarse gasps, they rounded the last corner and saw the fence just a few yards ahead. Relief flooded Daniel. It was the right stretch of fence. The problem now was how to get an incapacitated and rapidly weakening man through the gap.

From this side, Daniel couldn't see the car. Was William still there? Or had he driven to the entrance to meet the hoped-for police?

Reaching the fence, Daniel dropped his shoulder and thankfully lowered his burden to the ground. Dek groaned and appeared barely conscious. The leg of his jeans was soaked in blood, and Daniel feared he must be losing a huge amount.

Trying to put the oncoming earthmover out of his mind, Daniel bent the loose corner of the corrugated iron fence further back upon itself with shaking hands and then turned to take hold of Dek once more. This was where he could have done with William to pass the injured man through to, but there was no time to waste in phoning him. Daniel would just have to go through the gap himself and then drag Dek through after him.

If you're asleep, William, my friend, I'll murder you!
he swore under his breath as he positioned Dek close to the escape hole, leaning him up against the metal post that supported the fence.

‘You go on,' Dek muttered, half opening his eyes.

‘Save your breath – you're coming too,' Daniel told him. ‘I didn't drag you all this bloody way for nothing.'

The combined noise of the earthmover's revving engine and the mountains of scrap metal it was pushing ahead of it was unbelievable, and, risking a glance back, it seemed to Daniel as though everything in his field of vision was on the move, relentlessly forced forward by the unstoppable might of the massive machine.

Oil drums were rolling and bouncing along, the rusting hulks of cars, vans and a powerboat were being tumbled end over end, and household appliances gouged deep furrows in the gritty earth.

What was Norman Boyd thinking? Daniel wondered desperately, as he turned to wriggle through the gap in the fence. He seemed to be in the grip of a temporary madness. How did he suppose he would ever get away with such an obvious murder? The penalty for his dog-fighting crimes would have been a fraction of what he was laying himself open to now. It was overreaction on a ridiculous scale. Easy to see from where Ricky had inherited his crazy streak.

The gap between Daniel, Dek and the tide of metal debris was closing too fast, and Daniel had no hope of Boyd stopping the earthmover merely to save his fence.

As he pulled his feet out on to the verge and turned to reach through the triangular hole and grasp Dek's jacket, Daniel knew that time had run out.

NINETEEN

F
everishly working to drag Dek through the fence, it was a second or two before the significance of the sudden silence dawned on Daniel.

A rolling oil drum bounced up against the fence just feet away, and a motorbike with no engine and one wheel flopped on to its side in the dust. There was the sound of metal sliding and settling, but the only sound from the machine that had caused all the mayhem was the heavy ticking of its hot engine.

Had Norman Boyd finally recognized the madness of his actions, just in the nick of time? Daniel wondered, but moments later the engine coughed and spluttered as he tried to restart it with no success.

‘Dad? What you doin'?' That was Ricky.

‘What d'you think I'm bloody doing? Fucking thing's stalled!' Norman shouted back, as if he had no part in its failure. ‘Don't just stand there – get the bastards!'

Daniel hadn't been idle. Dek was now clear of the fence but it was twenty or thirty yards to the car and there was nothing to stop the Boyds following them. With Dek's dead weight to carry, he had no illusions about his chances of reaching it ahead of them.

‘William!' he yelled, but the youngster had seen his predicament and had already started the car's engine.

Draping Dek's arm round his neck once more, Daniel hauled him to his feet.

‘Come on, mate. Hang on in there,' he told the injured man, but although Dek murmured something in response, he was clearly too weak to be of any help.

William's arrival in the car coincided with that of Ricky at the hole in the fence. He was a few strides ahead of his brother and put his boot to the loose panel, elongating the triangular hole. As the gap widened, to his dismay Daniel saw that Ricky still carried the shotgun. With an evil smirk, he lifted the barrel and levelled it at Daniel.

Shock washed over Daniel like a cold shower as he stared at the twin black holes. There was nowhere to run or hide, and, of its own volition, his whole body tensed in a futile effort to defend itself. In the same instant, a furry torpedo rushed past Daniel and Dek and squared up to the fence, barking furiously.

Lifting his lip in a snarl, Ricky started to alter his aim.

‘Taz, no! Off !' Daniel shouted, desperate with fear for the dog.

Taz took a step backwards but continued barking, while Ricky Boyd's knuckles whitened as his finger tightened on the trigger.

Mesmerized by the horror of what was happening, Daniel didn't see Taylor arrive at his brother's side and reach for the gun. Both the shotgun's barrels discharged with a shattering report. Daniel flinched, but now the muzzle was pointing skywards and somehow, miraculously, both he and the dog were unharmed.

Ricky rounded on his brother, wrestling for control of the gun.

‘What did you do that for?' he demanded furiously.

‘Because you can't just shoot people!' Taylor replied through gritted teeth.

Hurrah for the voice of reason!
Daniel cheered silently, but Taylor rather spoiled it by adding, ‘Not here, anyway.'

William appeared on Dek's other side and, leaving the dog to oversee the ongoing defence of the hole in the fence, he and Daniel managed to get the injured man round to the rear of the hatchback, where the door had already been raised to allow Taz to get out.

Climbing into the back of the car on the folded-down rear seats, Daniel pulled Dek in after him, William lifting the injured man's feet. A sharp command brought Taz reluctantly to his side and, in seconds, William had slammed the hatch, slipped into the driver's seat and was accelerating down the lane.

Daniel turned his attention to Dek, who looked to be in a bad way, his face the colour of putty and clammy, eyes only half open.

‘Have you got any rag or a cloth?' Daniel asked William urgently, and moments later a ragged dishcloth was passed back. It had been used to wipe condensation from the car windows and was somewhat soiled, but there was no time to be fussy. Rolling it lengthways and wrapping it round Dek's leg just above the wound, Daniel fashioned a tourniquet using a spanner to twist the cloth until the bleeding slowed and stopped.

‘Dek. Can you hear me?' he asked loudly, and the man's eyelids flickered. ‘Stay with me, OK? We'll soon be at the hospital. How far is it?' he added to William.

‘About fifteen minutes, barring hold-ups,' William replied, concentrating hard on negotiating the narrow roads at speed. ‘Is he OK?'

‘Not great. What happened with the cops?'

‘Oh, God! I tried,' William groaned, as he slowed for a junction. ‘I got stuck with some jobsworth who was highly suspicious and wanted all the details before he was prepared to do anything. All I got were bloody questions – half of which I couldn't answer – until I lost my temper and he finally said he'd send someone as soon as they had someone free. I'm really sorry.'

‘It's not your fault. Some of these rural stations might only have a couple of officers on duty overnight, even at the weekends.'

Beside him, Dek stirred and muttered something.

‘What's that?' Daniel asked, bending low.

‘Football match,' Dek repeated faintly, and Daniel relayed the information to William.

‘Of course,' William said, annoyed with himself. ‘I should have remembered that. I covered the build-up in my own bloody paper! It's a local grudge match. A lot of bad feeling.' With a quick glance right and left, he pulled out on to a main road and floored the accelerator. ‘Hang on to your hats! Next stop A and E.'

When Daniel and William were finally allowed into the curtained-off cubicle in the A&E department, they found Dek attached to various monitors, with a bag of blood infusing into each arm. A nurse stood at the head of the bed making notes, but as they entered, she hung the clipboard on the bed rail and smiled at them.

‘He'll be going in to surgery shortly,' she said. ‘He's had his pre-med so he's a bit sleepy, but it should be OK for you to see him. Are you relatives?'

‘No. Friends,' Daniel replied. ‘We brought him in.'

When the nurse had gone, William looked at Daniel quizzically. ‘Since when did we become his friends?'

‘Oh, we've been friends all along. We just didn't know it.'

‘I see.' He plainly didn't.

‘I didn't know for sure until tonight when he cut and ran, but Dek's on our side.'

‘So that's why you took off after him. I thought you'd gone mad.'

‘Yeah, sorry. There wasn't time to explain. The thing is, he played his part well but there have been one or two things, right from the start, that didn't quite sit right with the character he was portraying. Because I've been in the same situation myself, I suppose I'm extra-sensitive to inconsistencies. For instance, I caught him doing the cryptic crossword in the paper one day. Now, I know it's dangerous to generalize, but the dregs of humanity that frequent the dog-fighting world aren't usually academic, and it just didn't fit in with his persona. Then, I think he let his guard down when he was alone with Drew in the drivers' room the other day. Drew told me he liked him, and I've found that kids can be quite shrewd judges of character.'

‘So are you saying he's an undercover cop or something?'

‘Undercover, certainly. I'm not so sure he's police. I had a look at the office computer and took the liberty of chasing up his reference. My query threw the people at the other end into some confusion. I imagine they'd dealt with the initial enquiry from Jenny and hadn't expected any follow-up. It took a moment for them to get their act together. If it had been a police operation, they'd have had a dedicated line that would have been kept for the duration. I suspect he works for a newspaper or an animal welfare organization.'