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Authors: Mark Morris

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BOOK: The Wolves of London
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‘So what happened to the dark?’ she asked.

‘It’s been temporarily routed. I don’t think I – we – destroyed it. I don’t think it
can
be destroyed.’

‘So it’ll be back?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Then we
should
go.’

I nodded and she moved across the hallway towards Benny, who had been listening silently to our conversation, his eyes narrowed.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ he said.

‘We need to get away,’ Clover said. ‘We’re not safe here.’

‘Not safe. This is my fucking house.’

‘Yeah, and it’ll be your tomb if we don’t leave now!’ Clover snapped, causing Benny to blink in surprise.

Before he could comment she half-raised a hand. ‘Sorry, Benny, it’s just… we’ve brought this on you. Alex and me. And we’re really sorry. I know we all hoped that whoever’s after us wouldn’t find us here, but we were wrong. So the only way that you and Lesley will be safe is if we go, draw them off. You can still help us, but you’ll have to do it from afar. We’ll keep in touch.’

‘I can’t just let you walk out of here,’ Benny said. I presumed that he meant he wanted to carry on protecting us, but the gun in his hand and the grim expression on his face seemed to give his words a more sinister meaning.

‘We’ll be fine,’ Clover said.

‘You think so, do you?’

She sighed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know. But it’s clear we’re not safe wherever we are, so perhaps it would be best if we kept on the move. You can take us into town, drop us at the station. We’ll get a train back to London from there. And I think you and Lesley should book into a hotel and stay there until it gets light. Just to be on the safe side.’

Benny started to shake his head, but before he could say anything Lesley piped up, ‘Clover’s right, Benny. I think we should go. Now.’

I expected Benny to dig in his heels, but instead he sighed.

‘Looks like I’m outvoted, doesn’t it?’ Before anyone could comment he turned away, indicating with a jerk of his gun that we should follow him out of the house.

As Clover and Lesley complied, I turned back towards the stairs.

‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’ Benny snapped.

‘I need my jacket and my phone. If the people who’ve got Kate try to get in touch—’

He nodded abruptly. ‘Just hurry up about it.’

I ran upstairs and was down again within thirty seconds. As we followed Benny outside I asked Clover whether she had
her
phone, and to my relief she nodded.

The night was cold and the wind had picked up again. It rustled in the treetops as if something was alive and moving up there. The Jag was still parked in the driveway, where Benny’s driver had left it earlier. I looked around nervously as we walked towards it, my hand still wrapped around the heart, which I’d now slipped back into the inside pocket of my jacket. As Benny pressed a button on his key fob, and the car unlocked with a chirrup and a flash of headlamps, I became aware of a fleeting pinpoint of orange light, like a dying firefly, at the edge of my vision. It had come from somewhere to my right, where the blackest shadows were clotted beneath the trees in the far corner of the front garden. I looked in that direction, and almost immediately saw the point of light flare again. I realised it was caused by the burn of tobacco as the pale-faced man in the demob suit sucked on his skinny roll-up. He was standing under the trees, watching us, the brief glow from his cigarette illuminating the bland expression on his face. Unlike before, when he had seemed to generate his own light-source, I couldn’t see anything
except
his face this time. I got the odd impression that he simply wanted me to know that I hadn’t beaten him, that he was still around. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds and then I got into the car with the others.

As soon as Benny backed out of the driveway and swung the car round, I felt a great lethargy sweep over me. It was more than just tiredness, more even than the normal crash that always follows a surge of adrenaline. This was bone-deep, as if a gigantic syringe had been plunged into my core and was sucking out all my energy. All at once I could neither speak, nor raise my limbs, nor even turn my head. I felt my heartbeat slowing, my senses shutting down. My surroundings blurred, became a monochrome smear of dark and light. It would have been alarming if I hadn’t felt too exhausted to care. As my mind drifted, I suddenly remembered watching the tiny white dot in the centre of my gran’s ancient black-and-white TV that the picture collapsed into when she switched it off. As the dot greyed out and faded into the darkness, so did I.

Whether it was Clover’s raised voice that dragged me back into consciousness or the urge to throw up I have no idea. I knew only that if I didn’t get out of the car quickly, or at least wind down the window, I would soon be pebble-dashing Benny’s leather upholstery. Half-blind and as weak as a kitten, I clawed at the door handle on my left. I didn’t know whether the car was moving or stationary, and my brain was too scrambled to care. More by luck than judgement, I pulled something and heard a clunk, and as the door yawned away from me I crawled towards the cold breeze that I felt pawing at my face until I sensed space and blackness, and then I leaned over as far as I could and puked.

As the stinking gruel geysered out of me, I recalled Clover’s theory about the consequences of using the heart, and wondered whether she might have hit on something. My thoughts, however, were vague and incomplete; it was something I would have to consider at greater length when I was more alert. It took four or five big heaves, my body jerking like a fish on a beach, before I was done. Afterwards I didn’t have the strength to do much more than lie there, panting and sweating, my face wet with the tears and snot that the violence of my convulsions had forced out of me, my throat burning with bile.

Eventually I became aware of a hand on my back, gently stroking me, and a soft voice speaking my name. It was the softness of the voice which made me realise that I couldn’t hear the tiger-purr of the engine or feel the gentle thrum of movement.

Pushing myself up on wobbly arms, I looked blearily around. The first thing I saw was Clover, her face shocked and tense. I was about to tell her I was okay when over her shoulder I noticed that Benny had twisted around in the front seat and was pointing his gun at my face.

Before I could say anything he muttered, ‘Get out of my fucking car.’

My first confused thought was that he was angry about me throwing up. I put up my hands and was about to tell him that I was pretty sure I’d got it all on the ground when Clover said, ‘Please, Benny, be reasonable.’

It was dark, so I couldn’t see Benny’s face clearly, but from where I was sitting it looked to be all sharp angles and glittering eyes.

‘Reasonable?’ His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the steel in it, the thread of barely contained fury. ‘You honestly expect me to be fucking reasonable after what happened?’

‘It wasn’t Alex’s fault we were attacked,’ Clover said.

Benny gestured at me with the gun. ‘Isn’t it? I don’t even know what he fucking
is
.’

Clover spoke quickly, urgently. I still wasn’t sure what was going on, but I couldn’t help thinking she was talking for our lives. ‘That’s not fair, Benny, and you know it. He saved our skins back there. And it’s my fault that he even got involved in this in the first place. If there’s anyone to blame, it should be me.’

It was hard to tear my eyes from the circular black hole of the gun barrel less than a metre from my face, but as my brain got back up to speed, I started to get an idea of our surroundings. With the car door open, I could hear the rustle of wind in trees and bushes, the faint cries of nocturnal birds and animals. I didn’t need to look around to tell that we were enclosed by darkness on all sides, that there was not even a hint of illumination from street lights or buildings.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked cautiously. ‘Where are we?’

‘Shut your mouth!’ snapped Benny, the gun jerking in his hand.

‘For fuck’s sake, Benny,’ said Clover. ‘He was only asking a question.’

I admired the way she managed to sound stern and placatory at the same time. Turning her head towards me, as if making a point, she said, ‘We’re in woodland. Somewhere near Wotton, I think. My understanding was that Benny would drive us to Guildford to catch a train to London, but instead he’s brought us here.’

I licked my lips. Glanced from the staring black eye of the gun to Clover’s face and back again. My mind was not only up to speed now, it was starting to race. I wondered whether Benny was so on edge that another word from me would be enough to make him pull the trigger. And if he
did
pull the trigger I wondered whether the heart would erupt into life in my pocket in time to save me.

Reaching into my pocket and squeezing the heart, I heard myself blurting, ‘Why?’

Benny
didn’t
pull the trigger. But for a long moment – during which I asked myself whether I had
really
just put the potential capabilities of the heart to the test – time seemed frozen. I stared into the barrel of the gun, the heart gripped in my hand – and then Clover inclined her head and said, ‘Yes, Benny,
why
have you brought us here? Are you going to shoot us and bury us in the woods?’

Benny’s face tautened, shadows flooding into the hollows of his cheeks. I held my breath; I knew he was capable of far worse than what Clover had suggested. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Lesley sat staring straight ahead, saying nothing, the dog in her lap.

Finally Benny muttered, ‘Don’t be soft. I just want
him
away from us.
Far
away. There’s something not right about the cunt.’

‘But we
were
going away, Benny,’ Clover said. ‘You were going to take us to the station and we were going to get a train back to London. That was the plan.’

Benny gave a brief shake of the head. ‘Not good enough. Because if you’re with him when he goes down, Monroe, you’ll go down too, and I’m not having that. Which is why he’s going to get out of my car now and walk away.’ He jerked the gun at me dismissively. ‘Off you go, Alex. Door’s open.’

I considered saying no. I considered calling his bluff, and seeing whether he
would
shoot me, and more to the point whether the heart would save me if he did. But what was the point? I didn’t want to risk Clover getting hurt, and I would only have been being defiant for the sake of it. And so I sighed and started to slide towards the open passenger door.

‘How dare you,’ Clover said in a low voice.

For a second I thought she was talking to me, but when I turned I realised she was looking at Benny. ‘How dare you presume to make my decisions for me. I’m a big girl now, Benny, and I’ll do what I fucking like, and if you don’t like it then you’ll just have to shoot me.’

She slid across the seat towards me, pushing me almost roughly ahead of her. ‘Come on, Alex, we’re going.’

I scooted along the soft shiny leather and had one foot out the door, trying to find a bit of ground that didn’t have puke on it, when Benny said, ‘Don’t be stupid, Monroe.’

Clover turned back to face him, whipping her head around so quickly that her hair lashed my face. ‘I don’t call it being stupid. I call it being loyal.’

He grunted. ‘Loyal? You hardly know the guy.’

Beside me, I felt Clover’s body tense. For a second I thought she was going to smack Benny in the mouth, gun or no gun, and I half-raised a hand to stop her.

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said. ‘I was wrong about you, Benny. I thought you had more bottle than this.’

I clenched the heart again, willing her not to goad him, but a crooked smile appeared on Benny’s face. ‘It’s not about bottle,’ he said. ‘It’s about making the right decisions, knowing when to cut your losses.’

‘Yeah? Well, I’ve made my decision and I’m sticking to it.’

She gave me another push. I unfolded myself from the car and straightened up and she did too.

‘Goodbye, Benny,’ Clover said, stretching out a hand to slam the car door.

Before she could, I put a hand on her arm. ‘Maybe Benny’s right. Maybe you
should
leave me here, cut your losses.’

Clover’s eyes searched my face. ‘Is that what you want?’

My hesitation was answer enough for her.

‘Thought not.’ She made to shut the door again, but then she paused and leaned into the car. ‘Stay safe, you two. Thanks for everything. I really do mean that.’

Lesley gave a tight, nervous smile. Benny sighed. Looking at me, he said, ‘You look after this one, Alex. Keep her safe. Because if anything happens to her, you won’t only have the Wolves of fucking London coming after you.’

I looked back at him, saying nothing, and Clover shut the door.

There was a moment of silence, then the engine purred into life and the car drove away.

EIGHTEEN
DAWN CHORUS


W
hy does he call you Monroe?’

It was the first time either of us had spoken for several minutes. After being abandoned by Benny we’d begun to walk back towards what Clover claimed was the A25. She’d told me that halfway to Guildford, Benny had taken an abrupt left down a minor single-track road surrounded by woodland. Ignoring Clover’s demands to know what was going on, he had driven for two or three miles before pulling into a lay-by and cutting the engine. It was during the ensuing row that I had started to come round.

Clover turned her head to look at me now, half-amused, half-puzzled. ‘Is that really all you can think of to say?’

‘I’m curious, that’s all. It’s never Clover, always Monroe. It just seems odd.’

Clover shrugged and faced front again, staring into the darkness. ‘That’s Benny for you. He’s a hard man, who thinks that showing affection is a weakness. He’s protective towards me, and he hugs me like a daughter whenever he sees me – but he never uses my first name. When I was younger it was always “Miss Monroe”; now it’s just “Monroe”. It’s his way of keeping his distance, holding me at arm’s length.’

I snorted. Trees and bushes formed shifting black walls on either side of us, the rustle of leaves and the scrape of branches in the wind made ominous by the fact that we couldn’t see them.

BOOK: The Wolves of London
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