No Going Back (33 page)

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Authors: Matt Hilton

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Suspense

BOOK: No Going Back
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‘Yes. Her name is Nicole.’

‘I remember now. From those photos you showed me. God, I didn’t realise how much she looked like Helena till now.’

I didn’t think that was true, because I’d raised the issue of their similarity with him. But seeing Nicole standing there must have opened the floodgates to memories of his wife. He was looking at Nicole but seeing Helena, and ignoring any of the superficial differences that existed. For a second I expected him to walk out of the trees and rush towards her. To prevent this, I gripped him by the elbow.

‘I don’t want them to know I’m out here,’ I warned.

‘Why not? You’re here to protect them, aren’t you?’

‘It would panic them if they knew. They’ve suffered enough. Let’s just keep an eye on them until they’re safely inside.’

‘Then what? You expect me to go back to my fucking trailer and get drunk with my buddies. No way. I’m staying.’

‘What are you going to do . . . sit out here in the woods all night?’

‘I might ask you the same thing.’

‘I don’t need to. I’ve got a room.’

Scott stared at me.

‘I’m not leaving,’ he reiterated.

‘Jesus . . .’

‘We could take turns,’ he offered. ‘You can’t stay awake all night, and neither can I. C’mon, Hunter. Let me help.’

I didn’t know what to say. Scott was a liability. He’d be someone else I’d have to protect, and the odds would rise in Samuel Logan’s favour. But he did have a point. Once the families were back inside, my place would be beside them, not out here. From within I couldn’t keep an eye on all the approaches to the hotel, so maybe an extra pair of eyes would help. If it had been Rink or Harvey Lucas offering assistance, I’d have snapped their hands off, but it was neither. I wasn’t about to change my mind.

‘Go home, Scott.’

The Walkers and Challinors had exhausted whatever conversation had held them outside and were now heading for the entrance to the hotel. Jameson paused to hand notes to the valet. By the look of things Jameson was a more generous tipper than the elderly couple earlier. The valet was positively beaming. They shared a joke, and the others joined in with the laughter. While I was distracted, Scott crouched down once more and held his pistol out before him. ‘You’d best get yourself inside,’ he said.

‘Scott,’ I warned.

‘I’m not leaving.’

I didn’t have time for this.

‘Have it your way.’

Using the butt of my SIG I struck him hard behind his right ear. His eyes rolled up at me, but already they were unfocused, unseeing. I held him and lowered him to the ground silently.

Then I moved forward, heading for the edge of the treeline, homing in on the movement I’d noticed on the opposite side of the parking lot.

From behind a large sign that welcomed guests to the hotel and offered instructions for parking their vehicles, I’d seen a man bob out for a closer look.

He was a middle-aged businessman in a suit, his short white hair combed neatly to one side. But I wasn’t fooled.

It was the monster I’d been waiting for.

Samuel had finally arrived for our showdown.

42

Jay had come to re-evaluate her relationship with Nicole over the past few days. When they had set off on their cross-country adventure, it had been she who had offered promises to their parents that she would look after Nicole, and keep her safe from harm. It had been an arrogant attitude, now that she thought about it, because Nicole was no weakling in need of her protection. If anything Nicole had proven the stronger of the two and Jay had witnessed a change in the dynamics of their friendship. Jay couldn’t help being afraid. She was frightened for herself, but more than that she was terrified for the welfare of all those who had come here to support her. It was different with Nicole, though; it was almost as if she’d built a solid fortification around herself, impervious to any threat. Jay remembered her timid friend and wondered where she’d gone. She barely recognised this calm young woman, who greeted all of Jay’s concerns with steady reassurance.

She thought back to when she’d been locked in that foul prison in the desert, and how she’d apportioned the Logans fanciful names gleaned from a fantasy she’d read as a child. In Oz anything could happen, sometimes with only the clicking of heels; had Nicole sought safety in a similar fantastical world? Was she still in there, locked within the dream, because she no longer knew the woman standing beside her?

Jay wished that she could join Nicole wherever she was now hiding, instead of suffering the constant fear that she did. Her own illusory world had been ripped apart when Officer Lewin had come on the scene. Everything had changed then. She tried to tell herself that it had been for the best, that by fighting back against the twisted lawman, the Cowardly Lion had found courage, but she knew that was bull crap. She hadn’t fought the police officer. Hell! She couldn’t even bring herself to open her eyes and had only struck out in panic; it was pure luck that had guided the knife into the man’s arm and thrown off his aim. Where was the bravery in that?

Since then she had constantly been on edge for the moment when the curtain would be thrown back to reveal the true face of the Wizard. Unlike the trickster from the story, this man wouldn’t show her the way, but would prevent her return home, the same as all of the other women he and his kin had taken. She knew she was thinking in childlike metaphors, but she couldn’t avoid them: when she looked down at the ground she half expected to find a yellow brick road beneath her feet.

The ground was concrete.

She scuffed her heel against it, heard grit scraping underfoot. It jarred her back into reality.

She looked around, searching for the car that Joe had rented earlier. She’d expected him to be here, waiting, but the Chrysler wasn’t in the car park. She experienced another tremor of fear. Had Joe gone already? She remembered their conversation from last night and how she’d tried to talk him out of his misguided war with Samuel Logan, and now wished she’d kept her fat mouth shut. It was ironic, since all of this had come about because she couldn’t keep quiet. She’d even asked Nicole to talk with Joe and persuade him to walk away from the fight. If it had been the old Nic then perhaps she’d have had more success, but Jay suspected that the new Nicole had actually encouraged Joe to kill. Jay only had to look at her friend’s unwavering gaze to know what Nicole planned should she ever see Samuel Logan again. But if that was the case where was Joe Hunter now? Why wasn’t he here to offer the protection
she
needed?

Her father was busy chatting and laughing with the bellhop. The others joined in. Jay did too but knew neither what she was laughing at nor why. She had nothing to laugh about, except when her dad finally waved them all towards the entrance. One more night and they would be out of here; she couldn’t wait to leave. There’s no place like home, she told herself.

Yet it looked like she would never make it there alive.

She saw the man come out from behind a sign on the grounds and start towards them.

He looked different, the trickster, the Wizard, but it was him. His face wore the same malicious anger as it had that time he’d visited agony on her in the barn, and then again as he stared down at her before entombing her under the tin sheets in the desert. How she wished that she’d had the fortitude to shoot the monster that time she’d broken up his fight with Joe in the ravine.

She could barely tear her gaze away as he advanced on her, and it was like time had slowed so that she watched him as if he was wading through treacle. Jay could hear the panic swelling in her breast, but as yet it had not voiced itself in a scream. Her family and friends were unaware of the monster’s approach. She tore free from the hold his appearance had on her, lunging to place herself between him and the others. He was coming for Nicole, she realised. He would not get her: not if Jay stopped him. But she was afraid.

She screamed.

Chaos erupted around her, the screams of her and Nicole’s mothers, the throatier voices of her dad and Herb, lifting in panic as they recognised the danger.

Jay felt hands tugging on her clothing. In her frenzy she misunderstood and pulled free of her father’s protective arms. She looked around wildly, from Nicole, to her father, back to Samuel Logan. He was so close now she could smell a wave of something sickly sweet with an undertone of rot wafting off him. There was white powder all around his nostrils and on the front of his suit jacket. His mouth was wide in a shout she couldn’t hear as he brought up a gun and aimed it directly at her.

Oh my God, he’s going to shoot me!

Her eyelids began to droop. She was back in the rear of Officer Lewin’s police cruiser again and this time there was nothing she could do to stop the bullet shattering her skull.

There was a blur of movement and someone was between them. In reflex her lids bolted open. For a briefest moment she expected to see Nicole leaping at Samuel, her teeth bared, her nails poised to rip and gouge. But it wasn’t Nicole, it was her dad.

Jameson was roaring in denial but Jay’s hearing was stuttering, coming in fits and starts.

‘. . . get away from my daughter!’

‘Daddy, no,’ Jay croaked.

Jameson Walker was a big man. Once he’d have been a force to be reckoned with, but that was decades ago. Now he was an old man trying to stand against an unstoppable monster.

Samuel slapped the butt of the gun into the side of Jameson’s head and her father went down like a felled tree.

Now Jay could hear everything. Above all rang the scream loosed by her mom. Jay felt a jolt go through her frame, as though her mother’s horror had empowered her. Samuel loomed over her fallen father, staring down at him, a look of glee on his lumpy face. He began to lift a knee, and Jay knew he was about to crush her dad like an insect underfoot.

Despite the gun in his hand, Jay sprang at Samuel, all her fear forgotten. With her open hand she struck him, not in a slap, but with the heel of her thumb driven forward and her arm locked behind it.

The force of the blow ricocheted back up her arm, almost dislocating her shoulder in the process. But it had the desired effect: it slammed Samuel’s head backwards, throwing him off balance. He had to settle his feet to avoid falling, and missed stamping down on her father’s throat as he’d planned. Samuel shook his head, his eyes screwed tight. But then he slowly opened them once more and it was as if he’d locked on to hers with heat-seeking lasers. There was a trickle of blood leaking from his nose, and he paused to wipe it away with the sleeve of his jacket. He grinned at her, blood-flecked saliva stitching his teeth together. His pupils looked like dark pits.

Jameson was moaning, coming round, and Samuel looked down at him. His inspection was brief, because the man was of no interest to him now. He stepped over him and lunged for Jay.

Jay didn’t care. She’d saved her dad and that was all that mattered.

Samuel grabbed her head in his left hand and pulled her close. The stench off him was unbearable. It grew worse when he opened his mouth to speak. Hot spittle showered her cheek, corrosive and foul.

‘Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?’

Jay couldn’t conjure such depravity.

All she could do was peer into the eyes of her nemesis, and in that instant she felt pride that she could do so.

She stared at him, her eyes blazing in challenge.

And this time she saw death descending.

43

I had to count on the probability that Samuel Logan’s natural instincts were to strike out with his fists as he was used to doing and not fire the gun. It was the only thing that would save lives because there was no way I could get to him quickly enough. I trusted my aim, could drop him at this distance, but what if he proved as impervious to my bullets as before? The group were bunched directly in front of him and his gun was up. If I fired then so might he and I didn’t want to see one of them fall. Instead I ran, swerving around parked cars to come at him from behind his right shoulder.

The Walkers and Challinors were milling around in a panic. Why weren’t they seeking shelter inside the hotel? Samuel didn’t look prepared to shoot any of them yet and was only using his gun to gain control of them; if they could get beyond the door then I’d have no qualms about taking him down.

I saw the problem.

Jay was rooted to the spot.

Shock could do that to the bravest of souls.

Even when her father tried to pull her away she yanked free of him in order that she didn’t lose sight of the man striding towards her.

I wanted to shout at her, but that would alert Samuel to my presence. Instead I ran harder.

Jameson Walker threw himself between his child and the man threatening her then went down in the next second. Samuel raised his heel to stamp the man to death, which was when Jay surprised us both: she drove her palm into Samuel’s chin with sickening force. It was a strike driven by desperation but it staggered the killer, if only for the briefest of seconds. He lunged after her, snared her head in his thick fingers and pulled her close.

Shit!

I still had no clear target.

I got a snapshot of the tableau.

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