Gypsy Girl (24 page)

He was a good driver. He braked and cornered, putting as much distance between us and them as he could. There was no traffic around. No one to witness the chase. No CCTV. Nothing.

I kept screwed round in my seat, watching for the Jeep. Nothing.

“Maybe they’ve given up,” said Gregory.

“No. Hudson’s like his dad. He won’t give up. McCloud hated me from the start. Now his son wants me dead.”

Up ahead there were traffic lights. They were on green. He raced for them, leaning forward, hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, but the lights turned red. He slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me through the windscreen again, but I stopped myself in time.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it,” I told him. “Sabrina brakes like that all the time.”

“We’re nearly there.”

My heart began to thump. “I need to ring Rocky. I need to tell him.”

“Here.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

I shouldn’t have been joking about his driving skills. I should’ve been watching out for danger. There was a fast movement to my left, and out of nowhere the Jeep screeched in front of us and stopped, blocking us. Hudson was already leaping out.

“Reverse!” I shouted.

Gregory was already jamming the gearstick back, his foot slamming on the accelerator. Too late again. Hudson wasn’t just a pretty boy, he could move. He slid over the bonnet and dragged the driver’s door open. I slammed my hand down on my door lock so they couldn’t get in. But the driver’s door flew open. Hudson’s fist appeared. It smacked Gregory round the head, knocking him almost into my lap, and then Hudson grabbed his phone. The back doors shot open. Hudson threw himself in behind Gregory. Milo slid in behind me. My hand was already moving up and over my shoulder, my fingers stiffened, ready for an eye-shot.

“Don’t you dare!” Milo growled. I felt a stabbing pain and blood trickling. His knife was already at my throat, his stinking breath in my ear. “You’re in so much trouble, bitch,” he growled.

I lowered my hand.

A bruise was flowering on Gregory’s cheek as Hudson dragged him up by his hair.

“Drive.”

I wished I’d told Gregory that I’d fallen for him. Maybe I’ll never get another chance. We were in big, big trouble.

Milo had one arm around my neck now, leaning forward in his seat. The other hand held the knife to my jugular vein. It was giving me the stench of his sweaty armpit and a perfect close-up view of his upper arm.

That’s when I realized he was more dangerous than I’d suspected. I’d thought him and his brothers were nothing more than thugs, trying to be tough guys like Pony to impress McCloud. But I could see a big sore on his bicep with muscle damage around it. I knew what had caused it. He’d been injecting steroids. There were fresh marks as well as the swelling. My father would’ve gone mad to see that. He chucked anyone out of our gym who used anabolic steroids. He says it’s cheating and it’s the easy way and all it does in the end is harm your body. But that’s not all. It makes the users become aggressive because they’re putting extra testosterone in their bodies. And he says that if you’ve got a fighter who’s already got a temper on him, or who’s hostile and violent by nature, then when he takes steroids he becomes a monster.

It’s called roid rage. It makes nasty little fighters into psychos. It explained Milo.

“This your boyfriend?” said Hudson, as he forced Gregory to drive away in the opposite direction to the police station. He was leaning forward, keeping his hand around Gregory’s neck in case he tried anything. He hadn’t got the gun, or he would’ve used it by now.

“He’s no one,” I said, quickly. “He gave me a lift. Let him go.”

“Liar.” He peered at Gregory’s face in the mirror. “I know him. He’s from the big house. I’ve seen him a few times.” He grinned and squeezed Gregory’s neck. “Your father is going to be pissed when he knows what’s happened. He should’ve told you to keep away from girls like her.”

“I said, leave him alone. He doesn’t know anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, course he doesn’t,” Hudson jeered. “Should’ve kept his nose out of this, then.”

Behind me, Milo laughed and began running the tip of his knife along my bare shoulder. “He’s got the hots for her. I bet she’s been all over him. Dirty bitch. His dad won’t be pleased.”

“Fathers. They don’t understand true love.” Hudson gave me a sly smile. “But so nice of him to take you for a drive, you being trash and all. Pity you’re not going to have a long romance.”

“Why?” I said. As if I didn’t know, but at least we were alive while they were talking and bragging.

Hudson licked his lips. “You’re going to die in a car crash. Gregory’s not long passed his test. It’s what the kids do these days. Die in crashes.” He pulled his fake sorry face. “Sad, isn’t it? Such a waste. I bet there’ll be bunches of flowers left at the spot. And little notes saying, ‘Gone to heaven with the angels’ and ‘Forever sixteen.’ Ahhhh.”

“No, there won’t be,” said Milo. “Not where they’re going to crash.”

They seemed to find this funny. Clouds of bad breath wafted over me.

My heart began to thump, but you’d never know it. I kept the shock and horror inside me. So that was the plan. To get rid of both of us. “My family will never believe I left the wedding to go driving with him. Not today.”

Milo’s arm tightened around my neck. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a lying bitch. His mates know he’s been hanging around with her. They’ll tell everyone. Their families will believe it.”

“I’ll enjoy seeing her little face as she realizes she’s gonna die.” Hudson smiled at Gregory in the mirror. “Gypsy girls are bad luck, didn’t you know that, boy?”

Gregory didn’t answer him. He didn’t look scared. He looked furious, two spots of red on his cheeks. He’d still got the injuries from when Milo beat him up, and Hudson had added to them with his punch. One of his eyes was swollen and closing up. And now he was being ordered to drive us to our deaths.

Good. If we were going to get out of this, we needed cold fury, not nerves.

“Turn here.” Hudson pointed at a road that led out of town. Gregory crashed the gears angrily and swung the car round the corner. I could see him glaring into the rearview mirror, watching Hudson’s face.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Hudson licked his lips. “Langton Reservoir.”

I froze. I heard Gregory swear under his breath. I knew the place. We’d been there for picnics when we were younger, even though we all preferred Alton Towers. It was a huge country park with miles of paths and roads and car parks, most of them empty and lonely, spread out around a huge lake that was so deep that when cars fell into it, it took them ages to get them back, if ever. Some people said there were lots of vehicles and dead bodies down there, and even a plane from the war, but all lying so deep in the pitch-black water that no one would ever reach them.

Not many things scare me. But deep water did. I can swim. I learned when I accidentally fell into a pool when I was young, according to me daddy. He rushed to get me out, but I’d come to the top and I’d started to doggy paddle to the side by the time he reached me. Since that day I’ve never forgotten the feeling of water coming over my head and my breath running out. I’ve had nightmares about drowning.

A picture flashed through my mind, of the Fiat going over the edge of the reservoir and hitting the water, and sinking deeper and deeper into the black depths. Another flash and the picture changed, a new camera angle, me and Gregory floating down and down, our lungs filled with water, the remains of my white dress floating ghostlike around us, holding hands as the Fiat settled next to the skeleton of the war plane, and the ghosts of all the dead people clustering around, knocking on the doors for us to get out and join them.

Hudson shouldn’t have told me that’s what they were going to do to us.

“Oh yeah, she doesn’t like that,” said Milo. His dirty finger traced along my collarbone. “I felt her shiver. The Gypsy girl doesn’t want to drown.”

“I’m not going to. You’ll never get that far. My family will notice I’ve gone. They’ll be looking for me by now,” I lied.

“No. Nobody will miss you yet.” He held up my phone and Gregory’s. I couldn’t believe he managed to find my phone after I threw it. I bet he’d wiped the photo from it. “But in the end they’ll try and trace your phones, and that’s good. The last known location will put you right beside Langton reservoir. We want them to know that you died together, in a tragic accident. It’ll put their minds at rest.” He smiled and threw the phones onto the back seat. “Turn here.”

Gregory did as he was told, hitting the kerb and moving his head angrily away as Hudson swore and smacked him for daring to jolt them. Gregory jammed his foot on the gas and jerked the car forward. “Hit me again, and we might crash before then,” he muttered, angrily.

I could hear the tension in his voice. He knew we were far out of town now, far away from anyone who could help us. I saw a sign saying
LANGTON RESERVOIR
as Hudson ordered another turn towards it. He didn’t hit him this time. And a mile further on, as we began to drive through thick woods, he said turn again. He wasn’t taking us to any of the big car parks, but there were lots of others that were much more remote. For the last five minutes we’d seen hardly any cars, and no walkers. I kept getting glimpses of the reservoir through the trees, its waters black against the falling light of evening. Soon it would be dark. I made myself think of those dark waters crashing through the windscreen and hitting us in the face as we sank.

He shouldn’t have told me that they were going to drown us
.

I began to squeeze and release my muscles, so I’d be ready to move fast. The road curved and twisted, sometimes running close to the reservoir. In some places there was a barrier, but every so often there was nothing to stop a car going straight into it. Everyone knew there had been accidents here. There were warning signs. We went by a tree with a bunch of faded flowers tied to it. If you went another mile down the road you’d see another like it.

There could be no better place for Hudson and Milo to get rid of us and make it look like an accident.

As Hudson ordered another turn down a narrow lane, where the branches of the trees joined overhead, Gregory said, desperately, “Why are you doing this? This is murder.”

“Blame her,” said Hudson. He gave me that creepy grin. “My father’s safety has been threatened.”

“Do you always run around doing his dirty work?” I asked. “While he keeps his hands clean?”

Hudson reached over and smacked me across the face. No smile for me now. “Shut it. I’ve seen you in your slutty clothes. You’re nothing but scum. This is doing the world a favour, I reckon.”

“You hate girls?” I said, even though my mouth was smarting.

“I hate girls like you. You’re less than nothing to me.”

He didn’t know anything about me, but he hated me all the same. He might have better looks than Milo and an education, but they weren’t so different. Good. I took some deep breaths. I hated him, too.

I could see the black lake ahead of us now. We were running down a slope towards it. There was a small patch of tarmac at the bottom and a patch of grass with a burned-out circle where someone had camped and lit a fire. There were no tents now. It was deserted and overgrown. I bet we were the first people here for weeks.

“Stop at the bottom,” said Hudson.

“Yeah. Brake like Sabrina,” I said, quietly.

Gregory glanced at me. He got it. He knew. I braced myself. As the car ran down into the little clearing by the water, he let it pick up a bit of speed, and at the last moment slammed his foot on the brake.

The car stopped dead.

Milo flew forwards. I threw my head back and felt it smash into his face. I heard his nose break like a dry twig. He screamed. I bit his hand and twisted the knife out of his grasp and threw it out of the window. And in the same smooth motion, I brought the edge of my hand sweeping towards Hudson’s wrist as he flew forward and smacked into the back of Gregory’s seat with an “oooph”. If it had hit him, it would have snapped the bone, but it didn’t. It missed, only grazing the skin, and giving Hudson time to push himself away from me. Behind me Milo was still howling in pain, flopping backwards onto the back seat, dazed and confused, his broken nose bleeding like a tap.

I was out of the car, the door snapping back as I kicked it. Gregory was even faster. He was fuelled by anger and revenge. He was already out and dragging the back door open, punching out at Hudson, all the pent-up fury powering his fist through the air. But he wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t trained, his punch had power but not accuracy.

His fist struck Hudson on the cheek, but it wasn’t enough to knock him cold. Hudson might look like he spent his time buying expensive clothes and going clubbing, but he was McCloud’s son. And he looked like he’d been in violent situations before. As Gregory aimed his fist again, silent and furious, Hudson ducked, swung round, bunched his legs and kicked Gregory in the stomach, sending him flying backwards across the car park. He rolled into the ashes of a campfire.

“Punch me, would you?” Hudson shouted, and he was out of the car, running and swinging his foot at Gregory.

I saw it in slow motion, as I ran. It was like a dream, the air turning to treacle as I threw myself after them. Hudson’s foot swinging back as Gregory rolled on the ground, gasping, all the breath knocked out of his body.

The setting sun lanced prettily through the trees, highlighting the shoe as it aimed at Gregory. I hurled myself at them, but there wasn’t time. I heard the crack as his foot hit Gregory’s skull. Gregory jerked in the air and lay still, but Hudson was swinging his foot again to make sure. He never made that kick. I smashed into him, thumping him in the back, knocking him forward, sending him tripping and falling to his knees. He was up straightaway, but now I was between him and Gregory. He was facing me, one of his eyes starting to close from Gregory’s punch.

“Get away from him,” I said.