Fear of the Fathers (54 page)

Jennings watched as three men came into view between the foliage. One of them was crouched, his hands running over the ground like a blind man reading Braille. He moved his head closer to the earth and studied it carefully. Jennings' heart thumped in his ears. The tracker looked to his left and stared straight into the brush, his eyes piercing the thick greenery and homing right in on Jennings. He pointed and let out a cry.

Before Jennings could react a shot rang in his ears, and the eagle-eyed tracker had fallen to the ground. His companions started to return fire. Jennings turned around, placing his backpack between himself and the bullets, and then leapt on Grady pinning him to the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing man!?” Grady screamed.

“I'm shielding you!”

“Get the fuck off me! I need to get to my piece!”

“No!” yelled Jennings. “No guns! I promised Stratton! No guns!”

Grady stared in disbelief. “You crazy mother! We're going to die!”

Jennings reached into his top pocket and withdrew a white handkerchief he'd been using to mop his brow. He held it in the air, praying that the salvo would cease before he got injured. Almost immediately the gunfire stopped dead. He got to his feet with his hands in the air. Grady had no choice but to do the same.

The two remaining men trained their rifles on the captives and motioned them to come out with their hands up. Grady and Jennings obliged.

“Great,” muttered Grady. “This is just great. No fucking guns! What planet are you on boy?”

The basement door burst open causing Annie to stop and look up. At the top of the stairs stood the familiar figure of Kamal, staring at her with wild eyes. “Stop!” he shouted. “You must stop now!”

Annie kept the knife close to Patricia's throat. “Don't come down here Kamal!” she shrieked. “This is none of your fucking business!”

Kamal took a step down.

“I'm warning you Kamal!”

He stopped and pleaded with her. “Annie, please, do not do this. It is going to help nobody.”

“What would you know about it?! It's not your family this fucker killed is it?! He's taken everything from me. And now I'm going to return the favour.”

Kamal extended his arms in a halting gesture. “Please Annie! Listen to me!”

“Talk is cheap Kamal. After all you've done in your life why the hell should I listen to anything you have to say? You'd do exactly the same thing in my position, you fucking hypocrite.”

“I may have done once upon a time. But it is different now. I understand more. What will killing them achieve? It's not going to bring your family back is it? All you will be doing is slaughtering two innocent people. You will be as bad as him.”

“I don't fucking care! Don't you understand! I just don't fucking care anymore!”

Kamal took another step down. “You must come with me now,” he said. “There are men outside preparing to come in. They will kill you. If you come with me now we can escape over the back. I have found a way.”

“It's too late,” sneered Annie. “I know they're coming to get me anyway. I suggest you go before they take you as well.”

“I am not going anywhere,” said Kamal.

“Fine,” she said, “have it your way. You can stay and watch.” She began to move the knife across Patricia's throat once more.

Kamal took a couple more steps and sprang from the stairs, diving directly for Annie. The distance, however, meant that she had plenty of time to sidestep, and he flew straight past landing in a heap on the floor behind. He quickly pulled himself up and turned to face her.

“Don't try it!” she screamed, holding the knife above her shoulder. “Come any closer and I'll stab you.”

Ignoring her he stepped forward. “Let it go Annie,” he said kindly. “Let it go.”

Annie wavered briefly giving Kamal a window of opportunity. He edged forward some more and held out his hand to her. For a moment she looked as though she was about to take it, but then the rage returned and she brought the blade down with frightening pace.

Years of dedicated practice had made Kamal an expert in unarmed combat, but weeks of inaction had weakened his muscles and blunted his speed. When the knife descended he was unable to react in time. He felt the sting beneath his left shoulder blade, and collapsed to the ground with the weapon still in him.

Annie stared down blankly.

Kamal raised his right arm limply. “Please,” he whispered.

Grady and Jennings removed their backpacks and lay them on the ground. One of their captors kept them under guard whilst the other bound their hands and feet tightly with strong rope. Once they were secure, the men started rifling through their belongings. It wasn't long before they'd found the box. One of the men got out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it in a language that neither Grady or Jennings understood.

Five minutes later another three men arrived. One of them was Massa. He eyed the box with evident glee. “Excellent,” he said. “Now we just have to find the key.” He looked down at the captives. “Where is it?” he asked.

“Where is what?” said Grady, obstinately.

“The key to the symbols,” said Massa.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Grady.

“Oh, really,” said Massa. “Maybe this will jog your memory.” He booted Grady in the face.

Grady fell into the undergrowth but pinged back up like a fairground target. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I still don't know what you're talking about.”

Massa repeated the action a few more times, but soon realized that violence was not going to be effective. He ordered his men to carry out a strip search, which was over as soon as they removed Grady's jacket.

Massa looked surprised. “This is all too easy,” he said, eyeing the parchment with suspicion. “Search them some more.”

The men proceeded to remove the rest of their clothes until they were standing with nothing but cupped hands protecting their dignity.

“I knew I should have gone home,” said Grady.

“Shut up!” yelled Massa. “No talking unless I ask you a question.” The search having unearthed nothing else, he studied the parchment once more, then barked some orders at his men.

Jennings and Grady had their hands retied and were led naked down the jungle trail. Insects swarmed around without reprieve causing a swatting/cupping dilemma. Jennings was exhausted, his lungs labouring in the humidity and his feet tripping over each other at regular intervals. The march went on. Key moments flashed in his head, predominated by thoughts of Stella whirling through in a merry-go-round of pain and pleasure. In a split second of clarity he vowed that if he ever saw her again he would tell her exactly how he felt.

After an eternity they finally stopped in a small clearing two hundred yards from the main path. Jennings fell to his knees. Massa shouted an order in the local dialect.

Jennings collapsed to the ground unable to move or think. First he felt his ankles being bound, then his legs were hoisted into the air, followed by his body and head. The sudden rush of blood gave his brain a kick-start and he opened his eyes to find himself dangling upside-down from a thick branch. Grady was next to him in the same predicament.

“Right then,” said Massa. “You will now tell me what you've done with the real key.”

“That is the real key,” croaked Jennings.

“I don't think so,” said Massa. “You wouldn't be stupid enough to have them together. We found it too easily.”

“Listen buddy,” said Grady. “We've got nothing else to tell you, so just take what you've got and let us go.”

Massa nodded to two of his men who were standing behind the captives with heavy branches. They started to whip ferociously at their shoulders and lower back, beating them with a harshness beyond the lowest humanity.

The torture continued until at last Massa raised his hand. “I ask you again,” he said. “Where is the real key?”

Jennings opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“That is the real key,” insisted Grady weakly.

Massa gave his men the nod again. This time they came round the front and began work on their stomachs, and then, with sickening relish, their genitalia. Terrifying screams echoed round the forest. Lash after brutal lash vocalized with such crucifying distress that even their tormentors winced.

Jennings had never felt such pain in his life. Every blow reverberated through his entire body like a million wasps invading his bloodstream. He screamed himself soundless, contorting and convulsing until at last he hit a zone of ecstasy and finally blacked out.

Massa raised his hand once again. A radio crackled in his pocket. He answered the call and conversed briefly with the man on the other end. He then addressed the still-conscious Grady. “We have caught the girl,” he said. “If you won't talk then perhaps she will.”

Grady stared numbly through dripping blood, insensible to Massa's words. His eyes faded and closed.

When Jennings came to the men had gone. He was still hanging upside-down on the branch, his face so sticky with blood and sweat that he could barely open his eyes. “Grady,” he whispered. “Are you there mate?”

“Yeah, I'm here,” said Grady. “I wish I wasn't, but I am.”

“How are you doing?”

“Not good buddy. Not good. I don't think Grady Junior's going to be having any brothers or sisters, if you know what I mean.”

In the midst of his pain Jennings mustered a smile. “I know exactly what you mean. I think the Jennings line is going to die out completely.” He paused. “I love Stella,” he said, eventually.

“What?” said Grady.

“I love Stella,” Jennings repeated. “That's all that's going through my head at the moment. It's all I can think about. What about you?”

“Brooke,” said Grady. “Brooke and the baby. I just hope someone will look after them.”

“You don't think we'll make it then?”

“No buddy, I don't. The only reason we're conscious is due to…what's left of our blood running to our heads. Even…talking's an effort.”

“I guess this is it then,” said Jennings, his voice weakening.

“I guess so,” said Grady, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

Jennings felt his will failing. Without being asked his eyes began to shut. He no longer had the strength to force them back open. The voice telling him to stay alive became a faded memory, replaced by the heavenly silence that precedes passing through. He grinned lazily and let himself go.

As he left, he heard Grady start to sing: “
I see trees of green, red roses too
…”

Annie looked down on Kamal's anguished face and started to shake, as the horror of what she'd done slowly sank in and extended through her nervous system. Her anger and frustration dissipated in a torrent of tears, leaving her empty and sick and forlorn.

“Kamal,” she wept. “I'm sorry…I'm so sorry.” She knelt down to comfort him.

“There is not time for apologies,” he grimaced. “We must go. You must help me up.”

Annie went to remove the knife from his shoulder.

“No!” said Kamal. “Leave it in. It will stem the blood until we get away.”

With Annie's assistance he lifted his body from the floor and then struggled to his feet. Without hesitation he walked across to a bulbous-eyed Stone and removed his gag. Instantly a flood of vomit came pouring out of his mouth. He coughed and spat until it was all gone.

“You are lucky,” said Kamal. “I should have let you choke – it would be no more than you deserve. But this is not a time for vengeance. You have a second chance, make the most of it. If you come after either of us again then I will not be so forgiving. We will leave you alone, and you will leave us alone. Are we agreed?”

Stone coughed once more and started to speak. “I don't have the authority—”

“ARE WE AGREED?” Kamal interrupted firmly.

“Yes,” said Stone, meekly. “We're agreed.”

Kamal nodded to Annie and with her support they ascended the stairs.

“Shouldn't we take a hostage?” she asked.

“No, Annie, not today. We will take our chances alone. If it is our time then so be it.”

They left the basement and headed out of the back door, wincing in the midday sun. Behind them a loud crash and raised voices indicated that the cavalry had arrived for Stone. They hurried across the back garden and through the gate at the rear. Annie looked back expecting armed police to appear at any moment, but none did.

“You will have to drive,” said Kamal as they approached his new Impreza.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Anywhere. Just drive.”