The Jonah (27 page)

Henson swung down into the cabin and his expression was grim.

‘Perhaps some time with your boyfriend will convince you to tell the truth,’ he said.

‘What have you done with him?’ There was a heavy weight in Ellie’s stomach.

‘You’ll find out soon enough. Bring her up!’

The man opposite Ellie stood and jerked her to her feet. There was no point in resisting as he shoved her towards the hatch. It was cold on deck, but good to be in the open once more. A hand
roughly pushed her onto the jetty and she almost slipped on the damp boards.

Henson led the way and Ellie followed, the other two men walking on either side and slightly behind. One held her just above the elbow to prevent her from making a break.

‘It really is a pity, Miss Shepherd,’ Henson said over his shoulder. ‘You could both save yourselves so much inconvenience. I promise you, you won’t like where you will
be kept over the weekend. Fortunately, the mill staff – those who are not employed in our other activities, that is – will not be back until Monday. By then, I think, you will have had
enough.’

‘What the hell’s happening here? We’ve done nothing wrong.’ Ellie reached forward and pulled at his shoulder. ‘Look, I don’t know what this is all about and
what you’re all up to. What’s more, I don’t care. Just let us both go and I give you my word we’ll say nothing.’

Henson shrugged his shoulder free. ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous,’ he told her.

Ellie shuddered when they entered the courtyard of the mill, for its very bleakness seemed to reflect the dread she felt inside. At the far end a building straddled the yard, an archway cut
through its ground floor giving access for lorries to the main road outside. Barn-like structures loomed over the courtyard on either side, their walls covered in moss, only a patch of faded red
brickwork occasionally showing through. Metal drums, red, green and black, were scattered untidily around the edges of the open space and sodden loading platforms, the type used with fork-lift
trucks, were stacked at various points. The yard’s tarmac was cracked and puddle-filled, only tufts of grass and weeds breaking through to relieve the overall drabness.

Ellie cringed back when she saw the black opening they were heading for and the hand holding her arm forced her onwards. ‘Don’t keep your lover boy waitin, darlin; I should think he
needs a bit of comfortin by now.’ The other man sniggered at his companion’s humour.

The shadows of the vast building’s interior seemed to spring down and absorb her into its dispiriting gloom. The floor was covered in a fine powdery dust, the product of the mill itself,
and the smell of molasses and starch pervaded the air. Sections of the walls, obviously white-washed at some time in the distant past, were streaked black and growths of fungi could be seen where
the crumbling brickwork had not been covered. Sacks of feedstuff were piled high and odd pieces of machinery skulked in the darkness as if waiting for prey.

They led her through a maze of openings and package-lined lanes, the building itself a complex of vast storage rooms and processing areas, until they reached a door. Henson unlocked it and
pushed her through; she found herself in a square chamber, a metal staircase rising at one end and disappearing into the upper floors.

‘No, not up there,’ Henson said, noticing her looking up at the stairs. ‘The stairs lead to the grain bins; you’re going somewhere else, Miss Shepherd, a place that will
make you feel as though you’ve been entombed in a crypt. I think you’ll have plenty to say to us once you’ve spent some time down there – particularly when you see the state
of Kelly.’ There was no emotion in his voice when he added, ‘I hope he’s still alive – you’d find it difficult to keep the creatures down there away from dead
meat.’

He walked over to a crate standing in the middle of the concrete floor. One of the other men pushed past Ellie and helped him move the crate to one side. She saw it had been covering a
trapdoor.

Henson reached down for the inset handle and pulled upwards, leaving a gaping black hole in the concrete. ‘Down you go,’ he told Ellie.

‘You’re kidding! I’m not going down there!’

Henson sighed. ‘We’re not giving you a choice, Miss Shepherd – unless you want to tell us certain things.’

‘Can’t you get it into your thick skulls – I’ve got nothing to tell you!’

He jerked his head and Ellie was shoved towards the hole. ‘You can climb down or be thrown down. That’s your only choice now.’

She sat nervously on the edge of the opening, placing one foot on a rung below. A not-too-gentle tap of a shoe against her spine encouraged her further. Before her head and shoulders disappeared
from view, she gave Henson one last pleading look and for a moment, from the look in his eyes, she thought he might change his mind. Instead, he closed the trapdoor and she had to duck down quickly
before it struck her.

‘Bastard,’ she said.

She clung to the ladder, too scared to move, waiting for her vision to adjust. But even after a full minute there was still only total darkness.

A scuttling to her right made her stiffen, and a high-pitched squealing made her panic.

She banged her fist against the trapdoor. ‘Let me out, you bastards! For God’s sake, let me out!’

A grating noise from above told her that the crate had been moved back into position. She thought she heard footsteps walking away.

Ellie stayed on the ladder for a long time before she cautiously moved a foot down towards the floor. More shifting sounds made her freeze.

When she ventured a foot down again, she was surprised how soon it touched floor level. She stood at the bottom of the ladder, slightly crouched, still trying to pierce the blackness around her,
nerving herself against the small scrambling sounds that she heard. Ellie reached into her coat pocket and her fingers closed around something she had bought only the previous day. Although she had
been searched when captured, only her shoulder-bag and its contents had been taken away. She tore open the small box and flicked on the lighter. Her thumb found the control dial and the flame rose
higher; the light was still poor, but gave her some comfort.

Something moved and she just caught sight of a small bristling body scurrying into the shadows. Two others followed and she had to resist the urge to scream. Keeping her arm outstretched, Ellie
moved the light from left to right, trying to distinguish shapes in the darkness. The flame singed a spider’s wed and she quickly withdrew her arm.

Pipes and concrete columns cluttered the confined space and a horizontal square-shaped shaft appeared from the shadows to sink into what must have been an outside wall. Ellie guessed its
purpose, for Henson had said the stairs above led to the grain bins; the shaft would house the conveyor-belt which carried the emptied grain outside to be poured onto waiting transport. Ellie moved
forward, hoping the lighter fuel would last for some time, when something lying against the wall behind the ladder caught her eye. She hadn’t noticed it before because she had been too busy
trying to penetrate the far depths of the underground chamber; but now it gained her attention.

It looked like a bundle of rags or sacking at first; as she moved the light closer she realized it was something more.

‘Jim?’ Her voice was almost a whisper. ‘Jim? It’s me, Ellie.’ Her voice became louder, concern outweighing fear. They had said they were taking her to him, and they
had implied he would be in a bad way.

Still crouching, Ellie made her way towards the still form, but she hesitated when she was only a few feet away, suddenly even more afraid than before. She could not understand why, but
something made her loath to touch the body lying there – if, indeed, it were a body. The scuttling sounds had stopped and there was no more squealing. Ellie felt a thousand tiny eyes were
watching her in the darkness.

She tried to speak, to say his name, but her throat was too dry.

The form, which had been so still, moved and Ellie found herself backing away. She held herself in check, aware that the very atmosphere of the cellar was heightening her fear, goading her into
hysteria.

‘. . . Jim? . . .’ she finally managed to say, and the figure moved again as though a shiver had run through it.

Ellie almost dropped the lighter when something scrabbled across her foot. The rat quickly disappeared.

She drew in a deep breath before forcing herself to go back towards the huddled shape. Her footsteps were slow as if she were deliberately delaying the moment when she would reach the wall. But
soon there was nothing else to do but reach down and touch.

She held the light forward, spoke his name once more, and allowed her trembling fingers to grasp the bundle lying there.

The figure began to turn.

Then she was in his arms, holding him, softly calling his name, the flame from the lighter extinguished. And Kelso was holding her, scarcely believing what was happening, sure that he would
never have seen Ellie again. His clutching fingers were weak, his thoughts jumbled and uncomprehending, but he could feel that she was real, could feel her tears that wet his own face.

‘Oh, Jim, what have they done to you?’ Ellie cried, for she had seen his battered face before the light had gone. And worse than the physical punishment that was evident was the
terror in his eyes.

‘Ellie?’ His voice was thick, his words slurred. ‘Is it really you?’

She held on to him, squeezing him tight as if to make him feel she really was there. ‘What did they do, Jim? What did they do to you?’

Kelso felt her lips against his skin and his mind slowly began to clear, the physical contact bringing his scattered thoughts back to reality. ‘Injection.’ He ran his tongue over his
lips, trying to wet them so he could speak. ‘They injected . . . me . . . with . . . LSD.’

She pulled away, but could not see his face in the darkness. ‘Oh those bastards!’ she said, pulling him close once more.

‘It’s all right, Ellie.’ He shook her gently. ‘I’m . . . I’m okay. Now.’

It was several minutes before either could speak again, Kelso because his mental faculties had not yet fully returned, Ellie because she was too overcome with emotion. It had been a long
night.

Eventually, Ellie loosened her embrace and lightly ran her fingers over Kelso’s face. ‘How much did they pump into you, Jim?’

She felt him shake his head in the darkness and when he spoke, his voice sounded distant. ‘I don’t know . . . I can’t seem to . . . I can’t remember, Ellie.
Everything’s hazy.’

‘It must have been quite a dose if they intended you to freak-out. I’m just surprised that you’re conscious.’

His hand gripped her arm tightly. ‘Something . . . something happened.’

‘I’ll bet it did.’

‘N-no . . . something happened here . . .’ His body stiffened and he seemed to be listening. Slithering noises made Ellie shift her position so that her back was against the
wall.

‘It’s only rats, Jim,’ she reassured him, the thought of the bristling creatures lurking in the darkness sending a shudder through her body.

‘No . . . it’s not the rats. Something . . . something else.’ He lapsed into silence and the girl pulled his head down onto her shoulder.

‘Don’t try to talk for a while,’ she told him. ‘Just let your senses find their own way back. Give it a little time.’

His breathing, at first shallow, and harsh, began to slow. He murmured something incomprehensible, then she realized he had fallen into a deep sleep. Ellie let him rest, knowing the mental
ordeal he had been through would have left his mind in a shattered state. Despite her own fears, exhaustion took its toll and she, too, fell into a troubled slumber.

The hand that brushed her cheek awoke her with a start.

‘Ellie, is it really you?’ It was Kelso’s voice and it was his hand.

‘Jim, how long have we been asleep?’

‘Asleep?’ He sounded more alert now.

‘Are you feeling okay?’

‘I’m . . . my head’s still a bit fuzzy. Christ, Ellie, what’s happened?’

‘They drugged you. Put you down into this hell-hole.’

‘Yeah, I remember that. But how did you get here?’

She quickly told him the events of the previous night and, as she talked, Ellie sensed his mind was quickly clearing, bringing him back to reality. She was surprised at just how fast he was
recovering. When she had finished, he said: ‘What a bloody mess. I should have listened to you and called in help.’

‘No, we did the right thing considering what little evidence we had. Anyway, now we have proof.’

‘Terrific. Will you ask Slauden to give himself up, or shall I?’

‘Let’s just try to get out of this place. They may try an even stronger dose . . .’

His body stiffened once more. ‘Jim, what is it?’

There was a tremor in his voice when he replied. ‘Last night. Christ, last night!’ Kelso tried to get to his feet and she held onto him, trying to calm his panic. His legs were still
weak and he collapsed next to her.

‘It was only a bad trip, Jim. Just a nightmare.’

He was shivering now. ‘No, Ellie, it was something more,’ he said after a while. ‘I went through more than just hallucinations last night. I remembered the things, things in my
past I’ve tried to cut out. I remembered being a kid, Ellie. A baby. Oh God, I remember being born.’

Kelso began to weep quietly and Ellie could only kneel before him and cradle his head in her arms.

‘The acid must have made you regress – it sometimes happens. But you’re all right now, Jim. Try not to think about it any more.’

His head came up slowly. ‘I know why I’m a Jonah, Ellie. I know why these terrible things have happened to people around me. And I wasn’t alone down here last night. Something
was with me . . .’ His voice trailed off into a low moan.

She shook him gently. Then harder when there was no response. ‘I don’t understand, Jim. Please help me to.’ Ellie wanted to push back the darkness, to see his face, to pull him
back from the abyss of despair that he was falling into. In desperation, she reached into her pocket and drew out the lighter. He jumped when she flicked it on and his eyes half-opened against the
glare.