Cucumber Coolie (19 page)

I switched off the “care” switch inside of me. Tried to train my mind to be that numb, uncaring beast it had been so many times before this moment.

You don’t know this guy. He could be a wanker, really. Probably is a wanker.

I pushed the knife closer to his neck.

“Please, Blake! Please! Please!”

I looked at the concrete floor. Looked at the piss stain spreading across Andy Scotts’ trousers. Listened to his shouts, his screams, his cries.

“Please! Please! Please!”

My hand shook as the knife touched his neck. My stomach sank.

Just one push, Blake. Put his life to an end. Get Danielle back. Serve your time.

“Please,” Andy begged. His voice was little more than a whimper, now. “My… my Jasmine. I love my Jasmine. Please I—Don’t leave her without her daddy. I…”

I closed my eyes. Listened as James Scotts chuckled and shuffled his feet behind me.

Andy sniffed. Sobbed. “Tell her I love her. Please. Just… just let her know I love her and I’ll always love her.”

I looked Andy in the eyes again. Didn’t intend to, but I couldn’t help myself. There was something there that made me feel utterly more shitty inside than I already had. The way he was looking at me, the light gone from his eyes.

He’d given up.

He’d accepted defeat.

He looked at me like I was the monster.

I tensed my jaw. Squeezed tight hold of the knife.

And then I stood up and looked at James Scotts.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

James Scotts pointed the camera at me in one hand, and a very hefty looking pistol in the other. His eyes narrowed as I stood, a frown spreading across his forehead. “I’m sorry, you… you can’t do this?”

“I can’t. And I won’t. I won’t just kill an innocent man.”

A shaky smile crept up the edges of James’ mouth. “I’m not sure you remember the rules, Blake. You fail to do this, and the woman you love dies—”

“I can’t kill a man and I won’t kill a man,” I said. I looked directly into the lens of the camcorder, feeling like a star on reality television, even though they probably had an even more raw deal than me. “I can’t leave a family without—without a dad. I’m sorry but I just…”

My voice froze. I suddenly became very aware of what I was saying, the choice I was making. “I love you, Danielle. You… you might never hear this but… I just want you to know I’m so so sorry.”

There was silence, I’m not sure how long for. Silence, but for Andy Scotts’ whimpers turning into relieved gasps. Silence, but for the water dripping from the roof, echoing against the concrete.

Silence, as James Scotts stared.

James Scotts lowered his camcorder. Switched it off, and shook his head. “I credit you, Blake. Admire you for making such a moral choice. I had to say, I thought even you would fall trap to this challenge. Would you like to see Danielle now?”

I hardly had time to process what James had asked me before he was yanking the knife from my hand and pushing me to the door he’d come in through.

Danielle. I was seeing Danielle. One last time, probably.

Oh God. I couldn’t do this.

When had I become so frigging sappy?

He pushed me through the door, the pistol pressed into my back. It was even darker in here than it was in the last room. But I could smell sweat. I could smell human.

I could smell Danielle’s perfume.

James Scotts fumbled around the wall. “Switch should be somewhere around… here.”

The lights flickered on.

My inner light flickered on, too. As cheesy as frig as that sounded.

Danielle was at the other side of the room. She wasn’t in the black container—that was empty.

She was bald. She had cuts and bruises all over her naked, pale flesh.

But I couldn’t help but cry, smile. “Dan—Danielle.”

Her eyes widened when she saw me. Her smile grew to lengths I didn’t know were possible.

She was hurt. She was hurt, she’d been kidnapped, but she was here.

I’d seen her again.

Whatever happened now, I’d seen her.

“Take a good look at her,” James Scotts whispered in my ear with his hot breath.

I wanted to go over there and hold her. To ask her all the questions in the world, tell her everything was going to be okay.

I wanted to ask her to frigging marry me.

I wanted to tell her how much I loved her.

“It’s the last look you’re going to get.”

The lights flickered out.

James Scotts dragged me from the door, slammed it shut.

“Wait, what—Danielle! Dani—”

I felt a sharp jolt against my cheek, tasted hot fluid as I tumbled to the ground. My eyes blurred, and my head ached all over.

“Well done, Mr. Blake,” James said. He raised his foot and booted me in my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

“You’ve passed the challenge very successfully,” he said.

Another boot in the chest.

He disappeared out of view, but I was too hurt, too in pain, to do anything but roll on the floor.

“You’ve succeeded,” he said. “Well done. You’ve completed the challenge. You’ve saved Danielle.”

I blinked. Tried to get my blurry vision back. Somewhere ahead of me, I could hear chains clinking.

“You’ve shown a willingness to sacrifice. That’s the key to success.”

I arched my neck up.

Saw Andy Scotts standing up, with the blade in his hand now, James Scotts behind him with the gun to his back.

“So now the tables reverse,” James Scotts said. “Andy, kill Blake Dent if you want your family to live.”

I stared Andy in his puffy eyes. Watched his lips quiver.

And then watched as he walked towards me with the knife, without any hesitation.

THIRTY-FIVE

It was only when Andy Scotts crouched down and pressed the sharp side of the blade against my neck that I realised what an idiotic fool I’d been.

I thought about begging. Thought about spluttering, crying, just like Andy had. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I was so fucking fuming with myself.

Fuming for letting Andy Scotts go when he was so easily willing to kill me.

James Scotts stood behind him. Pointed the pistol at him, and aimed the camcorder in our direction. I stared at it. Stared into the lens, like there was somebody on the other side who could just come in here and save me if I stared long enough.

Jesus. It was a shitty camcorder, too. Go to the extents James Scotts was going to, at least get something nifty to do the job.

“I’m sorry for this, Blake,” Andy said. He pressed the blade even further into my neck. My mouth tasted of blood after being booted in my side by James, and my vision was still a little blurred.

“You aren’t,” I said. “You’re doing what I should’ve done. Saving the person I love. Now I’m… Danielle’s gonna be on her own.”

Andy sighed. He gulped, sniffed up. “I’ll—I’ll look out for her. I promise I’ll look out for her.”

“While you’re in prison?”

Andy’s eyes were glazed over, like he was in some kind of trance. “I’ll… I’ll think of something. I’ll think of something.”

He pressed the blade even further into my neck.

James Scotts let out a laugh. Nodded his head. “This is good, fellas. Very good. Very emotional. Keep that face, Blake. You look grief-struck. The emotional resonance with the audience at this point, it’s going to be off the charts.”

I gulped, resisting the urge to bite back at James Scotts. Turned out gulping wasn’t so easy anymore, not with how hard Andy Scotts had the blade to my neck. Shit. Well I never. About to die with not even a whimper. And dammit, before season two of True Detective even launched, too.

And fuck.

About to die thinking of the second bloody season of True Detective.

What kind of a person was I?

“I’m not gonna beg,” I said to Andy, as he started to move the blade against my skin. “I… Just think about it. Think about what you’re doing here.”

Sweat dripped from Andy’s forehead. His wide, bloodshot eyes focused on the blade, on my neck. “I… best thing for my family. And—and Danielle lives, too. I’m doing the good thing. The right thing.”

James Scotts laughed some more. “Better listen to him, hero.”

My stomach turned. There was no way I was getting out of this one.

Shit. I was about to die. The light of life was about to flicker away. My heart pounded. I’d never stared death in the face so closely. Never been in its clutches, not this tightly.

Shitting hell, it was terrifying. So terrifying that I was shaking and turtleheading and on the verge of following through.

Come on, Blake. At least die with some dignity. Don’t let the pathologist find you with a shitty arse.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as Andy pressed the blade harder. I could feel warm blood trickling down my neck now. I could feel a pinching pain, a pain that I knew would be nothing compared to the slicing of my throat. Bastard. Couldn’t he just stab me in the temple or something? Get it done with?

“Promise you leave Danielle alone,” I said. “Please. She’s—she’s been through enough.”

I heard James Scotts tut. “I’m a man of my word, hero. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Now come on. You two are like a bloody married couple. The audience is waiting.”

I took one final peep at Andy Scotts. One final peep at the concrete, windowless room.

My final sight.

“And tell her I love—”

“Police! Hands above your head and down on the ground!”

I thought the cries were a figment of my death-distorted imagination. The police couldn’t be here. Not now. Things didn’t work like that. Deus ex machina was bullshit in fiction, let alone in reality, right?

I felt the blade move from my neck. Opened my eyes, as the sound of footsteps came from somewhere nearby.

James Scotts looked over at the door where Danielle and Andy’s family were presumably being held. Andy looked too, frowning, like all sense had returned to him.

“I won’t ask again!” the voice said. “On the ground! We’re armed and we’re not afraid to fire!”

I wanted to shout back, “Fire what? A water pistol?” what with Britain’s arms regulations, but I figured I didn’t want to give James Scotts any more metaphorical ammunition.

James Scotts turned around slowly. Looked at me, sheer puzzlement on his face. “You… you wouldn’t.”

I shrugged. It was all I could do. I knew as much about this police raid as James Scotts. But this was a good thing. It had to be a good thing. He’d been caught off guard.

“You know the rules, don’t you?” James Scotts said. “You… you remember the rules?”

My hope diminished into a stomach sinking realisation when I understood what James Scotts was saying.

“No, I…” My heart pounded. “I didn’t make this happen. This wasn’t me.”

James Scotts turned away. Walked towards the door leading to where Danielle was.

“James?” Andy said. He rose to his feet. “What’s—what’s going to happen—”

Andy stopped speaking when he flew back against the wall and fell to the ground, his head blasted to smithereens.

Shards of skull and splashes of brain covered me.

The echo from James Scotts’ gunshot rattled in the air.

James Scotts stared at me, as the noise rang in my ears, my mouth lost for words.

“You know what you’ve done, hero? You know what you’ve done, right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

“I would kill you right now. Instead, you are going to live with the guilt of Danielle’s death, and Andy Scotts’ beloved wife and daughter’s deaths on your conscience.”

I rattled against the cuffs. “Police! Stop! Please!”

Their footsteps kept on getting closer as James Scotts walked into the room opposite.

“Danielle! Police! Please! I didn’t do this! I didn’t do this!”

He grabbed Danielle. Pressed the gun to her head.

“Please!”

I saw her shaking her head. Saw her smiling, as her eyes met mine. As she mouthed the words, “I love you.”

And before I could respond, before I could tell her I loved her back, for the first time in our relationship, I heard the blast and I watched her body fall to the floor.

THIRTY-SIX

“So you’re saying he just shot her? Right there in front of you? Blakey?”

I stared at the grey table of the interview room. My mouth tasted like sick, no matter how many menthol capsules I’d taken to try and get rid of it. I could smell sweat. Sweat from myself. My prickly beard itched.

But I didn’t care.

All that I cared about was gone.

Lenny looked to the officer beside him. He half-smiled at her, then looked back at me, sighing. “Blakey, I know this is tough as shit on you, but we just need to know the facts. Just a teeny weeny bit of factual info, then you’re free to leave.”

I looked at Lenny. Looked at him right in his eyes. Weird emotions, really. Because his squad had descended on James Scotts’ hideout, where he had me tied up.

And his squad had resulted in Danielle’s death.

Lenny tapped his pen against the table. It’d been a day since the incident, but it had been an absolute blur. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around it. Still couldn’t understand this new reality.

A new reality without Danielle.

“Blakey, my friend, how long were—”

“Who made the call?” I asked.

Lenny chuckled, forced. “Wow, he… he speaks. I erm. What do you mean?”

“The call,” I said. My throat was raw and my eyes were stinging. “About my location. About James Scotts’ location. Who made the call?”

Lenny looked back at this fellow officer, as if he was hoping she’d do the dirty for him. When she didn’t, he cleared his throat and folded his hands together. “It was… she was just trying to help you—”

“Say it,” I said. “Say her name.”

Lenny gulped. His eyes met mine. “Martha called me. But she thought you were screwed, Blake. She thought you had no chance.”

Hearing Lenny tell me that Martha had called the police—made the call that ultimately ended Danielle’s life—didn’t sting as much as I thought it would. Probably ‘cause I was numb all over. Probably because I figured it was her anyway.

But still. She made the call. Martha broke the rules.