Cruel Comfort (Evan Buckley Thrillers Book 1) (24 page)

'What happened after you found them
here?'

'We couldn't let the boy go so we
kept him down here. Fed him and looked after him properly.'

'And sexually assaulted him. Once,
twice a day? Was that part of looking after him
properly
?'

'That was Adamson. I didn't have
anything to do with that. The guy's got a problem. He'd stick his johnson in a bucket
of worms if they were wriggling nicely.'

'But you didn't try to stop it.'

Hendricks snorted. 'You obviously
don't know Jack Adamson. You don't get in his way when he's like that. Not if
you've got any sense.'

'Right. So there you were, all
living happily together - some more happily than others - until... what? Until
his father turns up on your doorstep?'

'That was Adamson's fault as well.'

'It would be. You are so
misunderstood.'

Hendricks ignored the jibe. 'He
panicked. The boy's father was going round to everyone asking if they'd seen
the boy. He didn't suspect us; we were just one of the houses on his list.'

'What did he do?'

'Beat him half to death. Adamson's
answer to most of life's little problems. He's not the sharpest tool in the
box.'

'He sure sounds like an all-round
nice guy.'

'That's good, because the two of you
are going to be spending a long time together.'

'Why this?' Evan waved his arm to
include the awful scene in front of him, even though Hendricks couldn't see
him. He was sure Hendricks knew what he was talking about.

'It seemed like a good idea at the
time. Easier than killing and burying them and risk some animal digging up the
remains.'

Evan was appalled at the easy way he
weighed up a welcome saving of effort on their part against the lingering
deaths of Robbie and Daniel Clayton, and came out on the side of the
labor-saving option. Not to mention the fact that he now proposed to bury two
more people alive in the interests of tidying up the loose ends.

'Anyway, I can’t sit here shooting
the breeze with you all day,' Hendricks said. 'It’s time to move your new best
friend in.'

Evan heard Hendricks start to drag
Adamson's inert body across the floor towards the hole. He tightened his grip
on the bricks, the edges sharp in his palm. He heard a barely audible
shit
escape from Hendricks, followed closely by a low moan.

Adamson was coming round
.

It was Evan's one and only chance.
If Hendricks was dragging Adamson it was likely he had his back to the opening.
Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he hobbled quickly up the steps and looked out.
Sure enough, Hendricks had his back to him, leaning over the supine form of
Adamson. It was the first time Evan had seen Adamson. He was tall and sinewy
and on the back of his head his ginger buzz cut was caked with dried blood. It
seemed to be Hendricks' trademark.

He saw Adamson's legs twitch and
heard another low moan. Hendricks picked the shotgun up again and prepared to
send his so-called friend back into oblivion. He lifted it up and brought the
butt down with a wet, fleshy thud onto the back of Adamson's head. It was an
awful sound that made Evan feel sick to his stomach.

Hendricks straightened up again just
as Evan drew back his arm. He hurled the bricks at the back of Hendricks' head,
putting everything he had into it. Hendricks heard the movement behind him. He
turned his head and met the flying bricks full-on. He staggered as they caught
him solidly on the cheekbone splitting the skin open.

Evan didn't wait to admire his throw
or even see if it connected. Hendricks' shocked gasp of pain was all he needed
to hear. He vaulted onto the jagged bottom edge of the hole, steadied himself
momentarily and launched himself through the air onto Hendricks' back. The
impact sent the shotgun flying from Hendricks' hands as they both crashed to
the floor.

He grabbed a handful of Hendricks'
hair, pulled his head back and slammed his face into the floor. He got a good
grip with his other hand and ground Hendricks’ face into the dirt. He didn't
expect it to achieve much but it was hugely satisfying. Hendricks cried out and
bucked and twisted under Evan flipping them both over. Evan ended up on his
back with Hendricks on top of him.

He lost his grip on Hendricks' hair
as Hendricks jerked his head forward sharply and then powered it backwards
again smashing into Evan's nose and mouth. With the back of his head planted
firmly on the floor Evan's face absorbed the whole force of the impact. Pain
exploded as his nose broke for the second time in under a week. His top lip
split open against his teeth and he tasted the metallic, coppery taste of blood
in his mouth. He whipped his head to the side, but chose the wrong direction.
Hendricks's second butt caught him right on his chewed ear as if it was
laser-guided.

Evan reached round and jabbed his
gritty thumb into Hendricks' eye, before he could do it again. Hendricks howled
with pain as Evan dug in deeper feeling the eyeball slip under his thumb. He
felt the skin in the corner of Hendricks' eye tear and hooked his thumb
viciously to rip it open. Hendricks rammed his elbow backwards into Evan's ribs
again and again. Evan grunted in pain as he heard something crack. His thumb
slipped out of Hendricks' eye, his nail raking the torn flesh.

Hendricks rolled off him onto the
floor. He lay on his belly, panting like a demented hound. Blood trickled from
his eye, mixing with the dirt and grime that covered his face. Snot ran from
his nose and thick drools of saliva dripped from his lips and ran down his
chin. He let out a crazy scream and started to push himself up, shaking his
head violently. Drops of blood and snot and saliva flew everywhere, his good
eye glaring murderously at Evan.

Out of the corner of his eye Evan saw
the bricks he'd thrown at Hendricks laying on the floor a few feet away. He
rolled onto his front and lunged for them, his cracked ribs shrieking in
protest. Hendricks saw him and grabbed hold of his shirt and tried to pull him
back. Evan's nails clawed uselessly at the bricks. Hendricks hauled on Evan's
shirt pulling himself up onto him and brought his elbow down into the middle of
Evan's back. Evan grunted as the air erupted out of his lungs and Hendricks
climbed further onto him.

Adamson's leg was only a foot away.
Evan grabbed it with both hands and heaved, pulling himself forward an inch. He
threw his arm out and got his fingers round the bricks. Hendricks lunged and
clamped his hand round Evan's wrist. Evan could smell the rancid odor coming
from his armpit inches from his face. He twisted his head to the side and sank
his teeth into Hendricks' arm, biting down as hard as he could. Hendricks
screamed and let go of Evan's wrist. Evan bit down harder and shook his head
madly like a dog worrying a juicy bone.

He couldn't breathe with his mouth
full of Hendricks' flesh and his nose broken. He held on as long as he could,
then released his bite hold just as Hendricks jerked his arm savagely away. The
sudden release sent him sprawling backwards off Evan onto his back. In one
fluid motion Evan rolled over and brought his arm round in a wide arc. It
should have smashed the heavy chunk of brickwork into the middle of Hendricks'
face, but Hendricks turned his head to the side at the last second, the bricks
barely grazing his head as they pounded into the floor.

Hendricks rolled away and scrambled
onto his knees and dived for the discarded tool belt. He grabbed one of the
chisels and turned as Evan slammed into him knocking him flat onto his back,
the chisel falling out of his hand. Lying on top of him, Evan pushed himself up
until he was sitting astride him. Hendricks scrabbled desperately to get a grip
on the chisel again as Evan raised the bricks to smash them into his face.

Hendricks managed to catch hold of
the chisel and slashed wildly. The razor sharp blade sliced through Evan’s
forearm opening the flesh like a ripe melon splitting. The bricks spilled out
of his hand as a stinging, red hot pain seared through his arm. He grabbed hold
of Hendricks wrist with one hand and seized the fingers gripping the chisel
with the other. He worked his fingers under Hendricks’ little finger and bent
it back sharply, snapping it cleanly at the first knuckle.

Hendricks howled and dropped the
chisel. Evan grabbed the bricks, raised them above his head with both hands
ready to drive them into the middle of Hendricks’ face.

'No, please...' Hendricks whispered,
unmistakeable, absolute terror in the eye Evan hadn't ravaged.

A strangled cry escaped Evan's lips.
He imagined Robbie Clayton’s utter despair as he tried to comfort his son; to
tell him that everything was going to be okay—they’d soon be out of here and
home again, laughing in the bright sunlight. Imagined him holding the boy’s
head against his chest, stroking his hair and running his hand down the back of
his head; feeling the delicacy of his small neck in his hand, and thinking
thoughts that no father should ever have to think. How long did he ignore the
foul thing that now lived and grew in his mind; how long before he finally
accepted what he’d known all along he’d have to do? How long before the boy’s
pitiful crying became too much too bear, and he told himself it was kinder this
way, he’d do it for an old dog that couldn’t walk any longer, for Christ’s
sake, so why not his son? Evan saw him sitting where he still sat now after all
these years, tears streaming down his face as he held the boy’s neck for the
last time and tensed. Did his son feel him tense, feel something change in the
way his fingers touched his skin? Did he perhaps try to look up into his face?
Stretch out a hand and touch the rough stubble on his chin?  Feel the wetness
on his father’s cheek? Thank God for the merciful darkness that meant he didn’t
have to see Daniel’s eyes searching his own. And thank God for sweet,
ever-loving nothing as he closed his eyes, his jaw tightening, self-loathing washing
down through his intestines and up through his throat as he gave a sudden,
sharp twist of his hands and snapped his son’s neck like a dry twig. Evan heard
the howl of anguish that climbed out of his mouth, like it had waited his whole
life to do so, as he felt his son’s dying body twitch, his legs spasm and kick
weakly against his own, felt an indecent wetness seep into his lap as he soiled
himself. And Evan prayed with him to a merciless, nameless deity that had
entered the world centuries before men’s flawed notions of a loving God, to
take him now and still his tortured mind. All this Evan saw and felt in that
heart-sickening moment between the
ple—
and the
—ease
of Hendricks’
shameful cry for mercy. He let out an inhuman shriek and drove the bricks down
with all his might.

He heard a dreadful crunch as
Hendricks' nose and cheekbone shattered and he felt teeth breaking under the
impact. He drew in a huge breath and brought his arms up to deliver another
crushing blow, but it was all over.

Hendricks lay underneath him, his
face a bloody pulp, a dreadful keening sound escaping from between his broken
teeth.

Evan threw the bricks at the wall
and climbed wearily to his feet, his head spinning and his legs barely able to
hold him. His ankle gave way and he dropped onto his knees with a heavy thud.
Bright red blood poured from the deep cut on his arm. He crawled over to where
the shotgun lay. People made far too much fuss about standing up anyway. He
picked up the shotgun and carried on crawling over to the wall, then sat with
his back against it and tried to recover.

The whole thing had taken less than
a minute but he couldn't have told you what had happened. His mind was a blank.
He looked over at Hendricks and was appalled at what he'd done. If Hendricks
hadn't been such a murdering piece of shit, Evan might have thought he'd gone
over the top.

He rested his head against the wall,
his mouth hanging open, his breathing heavy and labored. The adrenaline
comedown hit him like a freight train. His hands started to shake and a tide of
nausea was rapidly overcoming him. His head ached terribly. He was acutely
aware of his injuries as the adrenaline leached away and the gash on his arm
wouldn’t stop bleeding.

He closed his eyes and forced
himself to breathe slowly and deeply until he started to feel a little better,
the nausea slowly subsiding. His legs still didn't feel as if they would support
him so he sat a while longer, listening to Hendricks' wheezy breathing as it
bubbled wetly through his bloody lips. Adamson hadn't made a sound and Evan
wondered if Hendricks had killed him with his second savage blow.

He made another attempt at getting
up; it was a lot easier this time, but it wasn’t what you’d call a walk in the
park. He found the handcuffs where he'd dropped them at the bottom of the
stairs and then cuffed Hendricks' wrist to the metal pole he'd been cuffed to
earlier himself. He didn't need to worry about Adamson - he'd be lucky to come
out of it with anything less than serious brain damage. That’s if there was a
brain to damage in the first place, of course. Even if he did wake up his first
priority would be getting even with Hendricks and good luck to him.

Evan collected up the sledgehammer
and crowbar and all the other tools and dumped them in the tunnel. Then he
locked the door and left the key in the lock so that nobody could unlock it
from the other side, before heading upstairs into the house.

'You're really starting to try my
patience,' Guillory said when he finally answered his cell phone. Evan could
hear a woman’s voice complaining in the background.

‘I hope I didn’t interrupt
anything.’

Guillory snorted in an
I should
be so lucky
way. Evan heard him cover the phone with his hand and a muffled
conversation. ‘This better be good,’ Guillory said coming back on the line.

'It's better than good,' Evan said.

'I doubt that very much. You're
sounding very strange. What do you want?'

'Guess where I am.'

Evan heard a weary sigh. Four in the
morning was no time for games. 'I have absolutely no idea, and if I sound like
someone who actually gives a shit...' There was a pause as the penny dropped.
'No. I don't believe it. You better not be...'

Evan stifled a yawn. It had been a
long night. 'I am. I suggest you get your sorry ass over here.'

'Watch your language, Peeper.'

'You can forget the Peeper; it’s
local hero all the way from here. You just wait until you see what's hidden in
the basement downstairs. Better tell your wife you won’t be back tonight. See
you in five, and don't bother bringing Detective Donut.’ He cut the call before
Guillory had a chance to reply and went to see if he could find a cold beer.