Whisper For The Reaper, Jack Gatland [good books for high schoolers txt] 📗

He’d entered the house briefly and had seen the mild carnage inside. Jess had been taken, and from the looks of things had put up a small fight while this happened.

Good girl.

Christ, Liz is going to kill me when this is over.

That said, the door had been closed and locked, and from the outside nothing looked out of place.

When he left, he made sure that the front door was left ajar. That way if, or even when Anjli, Billy or whoever it was arrived at his house, they’d be able to enter, and see that something was wrong. He’d placed his phone in a visible location, too; they’d know that something was amiss, even if Karl didn’t realise Declan had passed a message. It was the best he could do, as he still didn’t know what Karl’s plan was. For all he knew, Karl could have been watching him the entire time, so it was better to make these look like casual mistakes than a planned revelation.

He’d arrived at the car park of the Dew Drop Inn at fifteen minutes past ten that night; a good hour and a half before Karl was likely to arrive. But again, there was no proof that Karl wasn’t there already. Looking around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, Declan reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out a small mobile phone. It was a burner phone, and one that Karl wouldn’t have known that Declan owned, one that only had one number in it. He hadn’t used it since he’d been on the run, but it had been the only thing he picked up from the house as he left. And he only sent one text on it right now.

Dew Drop Inn

This done, he leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. Nothing was going to happen for a good hour or more, and he needed to be at his best. But the moment he did, visions of Jess; captured, tortured, even killed crossed his vision. Opening them again, he sighed, turning on the car radio, allowing the sounds of Classic FM to enter the car, as he mentally prepared himself.

After all, this might be the last time he ever heard classical music.

Ilse was pacing around the workshop now, silent but obviously irritated. Jess glanced at the clock on the wall; it read 11.30pm. Half an hour before whatever was supposed to happen, well, happened.

Ilse stopped, turning to face Jess.

‘It wasn’t supposed to end this way,’ she muttered. ‘Rolfe was meant to give up. We could have lived in peace.’

Jess snorted, the only thing she could do while tied up. Ilse went to reply but then stopped, looking towards the main entrance.

‘It’ll all be over soon,’ she cooed softly, as if to herself. Jess said nothing, but kept completely still. In fact, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself, as in her right hand, hidden from view was a sliver of snapped metal hacksaw blade, no longer than four inches in length and grasped by Jess when the chair went over on the garage floor. It cut into her own hand, but Jess hoped that by gently sawing it against the plastic cable tie, she might break it. Or at least she might weaken it enough to snap the cable tie with her own strength. This way, if she could mostly cut through both cable ties, and that was a large if, as it relied on her being able to pass the blade from hand to hand, both tied to different arms of the wooden chair, she’d be able to burst free, surprising Ilse and taking her down.

That’s how it was planned in her head. The facts of the matter were a lot more complicated. To actively attack, Jess would have to leap up and attack Ilse, but with her arms free and her ankles still secured, all that would happen was that Jess would tumble to the floor.

No, better to free one hand. There was every chance that she’d be left alone as Ilse became more jumpy, the right-hand arm of the chair wobbled after the fall, and could maybe be removed, used as a baton and she’d be able to break more bonds before the German madwoman realised.

In fact, Ilse was distracted now; staring out of the main door.

‘I think I saw a car pass us,’ she whispered. ‘Your father’s friends must have realised that you’re missing. Or maybe it was just someone driving past, and I’m paranoid.’

Jess said nothing, using Ilse’s distraction to saw harder, feeling a gentle snap as the cable tie gave way. When Ilse looked back to her captive, she didn’t see the tie, hanging loosely on the other side, and so walked over to a side table, grabbing a can of cola and drinking from it.

‘We could have lived in peace,’ she repeated. She hadn’t seen Jess pass the sliver of blade from one hand to the other, nor did she see Jess flex her legs, pulling at the cable ties around her ankles.

And she certainly hadn’t seen Jess pull at the arm of the chair, her hand now freed, working the wooden armrest out of its socket with a little force.

Billy looked to Anjli as they carried on driving. ‘Anything?’

‘I don’t know,’ Anjli replied, looking over her shoulder, back at Karl Schnitter’s garage. ‘We can’t just pull up, anyway. If they are in there, then things could get messy if they see us arrive.’

Billy nodded. ‘They’ve found nothing in the Maidenhead garage or Karl’s house. There aren’t that many more places to look. And to be honest, they might not even be in Hurley any more.’

‘True, but they didn’t have time to work something out in detail, and they probably haven’t realised we’re looking for them,’ Anjli replied. ‘Pull over here, now we’re out of sight.’

Billy pulled his Mini to the curb where it stopped, the lights turning off as he switched off the