Hurst, Robin Crumby [funny books to read .txt] 📗

behind the doorway. As the footsteps grew louder she released the safety catch and put her finger lightly on the trigger.

To her relief, Zed and Mila appeared around the corner. They stood staring at Riley wide-eyed, trying to catch their breath. Mila leaned against the wall, fighting for air. “They’re coming,” she said.

Zed was cradling his left wrist, grimacing with pain. “We need to leave now.”

Stella tugged at Riley’s sleeve. “There’s another way out. Follow me.”

Zed exchanged glances with Sean. “Who are these two?”

Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask. Riley’s waifs and strays,” he responded sarcastically and followed the girl.

Chapter Twenty-four

Stella led the way as the group threw caution to the wind and hurried down the stairs to ground level. She was light on her feet and seemed to know her way around the maze of passages and waiting rooms. Riley had to shout louder than she dared to get Stella to slow down. Zed and Sean were bringing up the rear and in danger of losing contact with the lead group. Behind them they could hear raised voices. They didn’t have time to lose.

Zed’s arm was in a bad way. It had all happened so quickly. Mila had been grabbed from behind and in the scuffle to free her, Zed had fallen. In the resulting wrestle with one of the guards, his hand and wrist were badly cut by shards of glass from a glazed partition wall. Mila had undertaken some running repairs. She had torn off a strip of her shirt and bandaged the injured arm as best she could. As they ran, blood soaked through the cotton material and dripped on to the grey linoleum tiles, leaving a clear path for their pursuers to follow.

At the bottom of the last flight of stairs, they regrouped. Riley counted heads. She noticed Zed cradling his left arm and wincing in pain. He nodded. “Don’t slow down on my account.”

At the doorway to the main corridor, she nudged open the heavy fire door and checked the path ahead. There were voices off to the left and torchlight dancing along the walls. To their right there was silence. In all the commotion, Riley couldn’t be sure whether it was left or right. Which way led back to their point of entry?

Joe caught up with her and pointed right and they wasted no time in making it back to the way out through the maintenance area. They passed the machinery and out through the fire door, which hung broken on its top hinge. Stepping outside into the cool night air, it was pitch black. A light mist hung in the trees. An evening dew had transformed the grassy slope ahead of them into a sparkling carpet of water droplets hanging from every blade. Out here, the alarm sounded distant and strangely muted. Their eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. They couldn’t risk using one of the torches they carried as it would only reveal their position.

Riley pointed towards the large oak tree overhanging the fence. Sean reached it first but found the lowest branch was out of reach, almost ten feet from the ground. He got down on his hands and knees and waited for Riley. She straddled his shoulders and with a grunt he lifted up. Once she’d manoeuvred herself into a secure position, gripping the branch with her thighs, she reached down with her right hand and, with Sean’s help, she levered Adele and then Stella to join her. Joe was next. It took a couple of attempts before Sean took a deep breath, changed position and tried something different. Offering his cupped hands instead, Sean braced with one knee and manhandled Joe high enough for the others to pull him up, puffing and soaked in sweat.

While the others shuffled along the branch and over the fence to safety, Riley kept watch on the fire door. They were out of time. In the distance, near the front entrance, she could already see a small crowd gathering, squinting in to the darkness, their lanterns held high. Mila went next, which just left Zed and Sean.

The fire door to the hospital burst open and three men emerged into the night. Beams of light from their powerful torches arced round in opposite directions trying to locate the Hurst group.

Turning to Zed, Sean insisted, “You’re first, big man. With that busted arm, there’s no way you can pull yourself up on your own. We don’t have time to argue.”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Sean.”

“I’m lighter and I can jump higher. Come on, quickly.” He stooped down and cupped his hands together. Zed didn’t like it but Sean was right. He planted his right boot, and with one hand, he reached up as high as he could manage. Between Joe and Riley they heaved Zed’s large frame up and onto the branch, which creaked loudly under their combined weight. Zed gasped in pain as his body weight rested briefly on his busted arm.

The torches flashed up to their position, homing in on the noises, and two of the men hurtled across the parking area towards them. A wild shot rang out, going high and wide. It was enough to get the rest of the group scurrying with more urgency along the branch and jumping down the other side of the fence.

Sean stood underneath the branch swinging his arms, looking up hopefully, readying himself to jump. Riley and Joe reached down as far as they could, their fingers splayed wide. Sean looked back over his shoulder at their pursuers. It was now or never.

He leapt as high as he could but only managed to touch fingers with Joe, who couldn’t grab hold. He landed heavily and readied himself for another go. The armed men were close now and a volley of automatic fire peppered the tree. Riley and Joe lay flat against the branch and were unharmed. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Sean leapt as high as his tired legs would allow. Riley managed to grab hold of his wrist as Joe reached down and held the sleeve of his jacket. They hoisted him up slowly, straining, every sinew bursting. Sean reached up and got a hand on Joe’s back, a smile forming on his face. He relaxed just a fraction, sensing safety within his grasp.

Riley felt Sean’s whole body tense as a shot found its mark in his lower back. His grip weakened and his arm went limp as his life force drained rapidly. As best they tried, they couldn’t pull him up. He became a dead weight in their hands. They tried one last time, but his eyes were closing and with a shriek of despair from Riley, Sean’s clammy fingers slipped from her grasp as he fell on to the grass below. His limbs crumpled awkwardly underneath him, lifeless. Riley stared after him, shaking her head in disbelief.

“He’s gone, Riley. Come on,” shouted Joe.

She was sobbing lightly and he had to drag her away. Gunshots splintered the wood over their heads but they were well hidden in the foliage. Zed stood next to the fence, his revolver raised, taking careful aim at the approaching group. He fired a single shot but didn’t stay to see if he’d hit his target. The others followed Zed up the bank and away to their rendezvous point in the dip by the wall.

Zed paused on the crest of the bank and counted the others in. As they passed him, he put his hand on each shoulder, a weak smile on his face as he welcomed the new arrivals, Stella and Adele. Riley was the last to arrive.

He reached out to pull her up the bank, but she ignored his help.

“Don’t touch me.”

He shrugged and took one last look at the hospital before turning away. Their pursuers hadn’t tried to follow them over the fence, but he could be sure they would assemble a search party to hunt them down at first light. There was no time to waste.

Chapter Twenty-five

Will’s eyes flickered open and he sat bolt upright, gathering his senses. The fire alarm was real, not part of his restless dream. It must be running off a back-up system. There was a commotion outside his room. He was still handcuffed to the bedpost, but stood up as best he could, straining to hear the raised voices outside. If it was a fire, someone would come and let him out. They wouldn’t just leave him in here, would they? Unless someone had deliberately activated the alarm.

He tried to ease the handcuffs over his balled fist, but it was no good. He had tried a hundred times already. How did they manage it in the movies? Was there a trick to it? He spent a couple of minutes hawking up some spit from an otherwise parched mouth and throat. He spat on his wrists for lubrication, but however he contorted his thumb and fingers, the result was the same. His thumbs were red raw from his repeated efforts.

Footsteps in the corridor were followed by the familiar jangle of keys. The handle turned slowly and the door was flung open. The shrill wail of the alarm alternated pitch every second. He shielded one side of his head with his free hand. Three men surged into the room. The first had a swagger about him, an automatic rifle held at the stock, pointing towards the ceiling. Behind him stood the man in black. He pushed the door closed, his head cocked to the side.

“Looks like your friends from Hurst have come to rescue you. Shame they won’t find you,” he mocked.

The two henchmen laughed sycophantically. The thug at the rear of the group looked on menacingly, chewing gum, with a fixed snarl on his face. He looked like a down-on-his-luck bouncer from an after-hours club. He was dressed head to toe in paramilitary black. They all were. Perhaps it was the fashion round these parts. Paramilitary black was the “new black”.

The thuggish man’s cold impassive eyes stared straight through Will as if he wasn’t there. On his shoulder was a discoloured patch where an epaulette or rank insignia would have normally been. This had to be the man they called “Copper”, though he’d never seen his face until now. He was barrel-chested, with a thick neck, the hint of a colourful tattoo just visible above the collar and heavy stubble on his chin that had been shaped into a goatee. He shaved his scalp to within a millimetre. Will could smell the man from where he sat. There was a heady blend of sweat, alcohol and unbridled aggression. He was a powder keg of testosterone with a short fuse, just ready to go off. The back of Will’s neck throbbed as a timely reminder of why not to provoke a psychopath without good reason.

“Well, your friends have made a wasted journey. They won’t find you up here. They’re looking in the wrong place, for starters. Don’t worry, Will. We’ll catch them, that’s what these guys do, catch people. Isn’t that right, Copper? They’ll hunt them down wherever they’re hiding. And when we do, we’ll send them back to Hurst in pieces.”

It struck Will that the man in black was trying just a little too hard. Trying to appear tough and ruthless. Playing a part and living up to the expectations of those around him, but not altogether convincingly. He tried to imagine what this man might have been before the breakdown, before the world had collapsed in short order, like a house of cards. He imagined a downtrodden middle manager in a regional sales office. Years of frustration heaped upon him, of being talked down to. A broken family. Absent parents. A messy divorce. Children taken away from him by court order. A lifetime of bitterness and disappointments that had led to this point: the birth of a sociopath. Will pitied and despised him in equal measure. Wasn’t he just the product of a dysfunctional society, one that had