Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller) (24 page)

"I don't know anything, Gemma. I swear, I'm as shocked as you are."

"He isn't doing this for nothing." There was anger in her voice now. "You did something to make him do this."

He closed his eyes again, said nothing.

"What did you do, Harry?"

"Nothing, Gemma. I did nothing."

Liar.

"Harry?" It was Rankin.

"John. Was it him? Was it Declan?"

"He says it was. Gemma seems convinced anyway."

Edger let out a long breath. "I have to find where he's keeping Kaitlin."

"Listen, Harry. He's on his way back to wherever he has Kaitlin. You need to find the place before he moves her."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not much. Just that he needs to talk to you. Face to face, he says."

Edger stared out the window at the flat fields beyond. Dark clouds were beginning to gather in the sky, throwing moving shadows across the course grass in the fields.

"You alright, Harry?"

"I'm fine."

"Listen, Donna has managed to narrow down some possible locations. Keep this line open. She's going to track you through the GPS on your phone so she can provide directions."

Edger nodded. "Okay."

"Harry? It's Donna. I have your location. Stay on the road you're on for another mile or so, then look for a dirt road to your right that leads to a deserted farm. Harry? You there, Harry?"

"I'm here, Donna," Edger said, snapping out of the reverie he was in.

He restarted the engine and began driving again.

CHAPTER THIRTY

As soon as Kaitlin McGuire opened her eyes she immediately began to cough. Her mouth and throat were covered in dry dust. As she coughed, she sat up and tried to steady herself with her good hand, but as she did she felt a sharp stabbing pain, and she squealed. When she looked at her hand, she saw a piece of wood with a rusty nail in it, sticking into her flesh. Crying, she squeamishly took hold of the small piece of wood—part of the floorboards from the attic room above her—and pulled on it, sliding the nail out of her hand. The puncture wound the nail left behind in the palm of her hand wasn't deep, but it stung like hell, and there was a lot of blood pouring out of it. As she sat amongst the rubble of broken floorboards and pieces of plaster ceiling, she cradled her punctured hand in her other hand, and that's when she realised for the second time that her little finger was missing from her other hand. Kaitlin groaned, then winced as the horrible throbbing pain seemed to come back suddenly into her injured left hand. Then she winced harder at the pain in her head. She must have hit it off the floor when she landed. She used her four fingered left hand to check her head for blood, but she felt no wetness anywhere. Just a large lump near the top of her skull.

Kaitlin sat and looked around her as she comprehended what had happened. She had crashed through the floor of the attic room, then through the ceiling below into the room she was now in. It appeared to be a bedroom, going by the dirty looking bed in one corner and large double wardrobe next to it. She thanked her lucky stars that she didn't land on the metal bed frame.

Then a thought struck her.

The kidnapper. Where is he? Why hadn't he come to see what all the noise was about?

She sat for a moment, listening. The only sounds were the ones the wind outside was making as it blew through the house, though that didn't mean the kidnapper wasn't in the house as well.

But he must have heard all the noise. Heard her screaming as she fell.

Maybe he wasn't here at all.

Her heart began to pound in her chest at the prospect of escape.

You need to make a run for it, before he gets back.

Ignoring the pain in both her hands and her head, Kaitlin went to get to her feet, but fell back down again when she tried to put pressure on her right leg. She squealed in pain and sat back down amongst the debris underneath her.

Her right ankle was hurt. Probably sprained.

Tears began to pour from her eyes. "Shit!" she screamed.

Kaitlin sat for another moment while she got herself together. Be brave, she kept telling herself. Harry would want you to be brave.

As she got up the second time she put most of her weight on her other leg, using her throbbing hands to try and balance herself as she struggled to her feet. It wasn't easy and the simple act of getting to her feet caused her a lot of pain, but she gritted her teeth and finally managed to stand up straight, her left leg taking most of her weight.

She looked at her right hand. It was covered in blood. Inside her jacket was a thin scarf. She took it out and wrapped it around her right hand, struggling to do so because of the missing digit on her left. Eventually she got the scarf wrapped around her hand. She then used her teeth to pull the scarf tight so it wouldn't unravel.

After that, she limped out of the bedroom, pausing on the landing outside. The stairs were immediately to her left. She listened a moment, still afraid the kidnapper might be in the house somewhere, but she saw nor heard any sign of him. Aware that she probably didn't have much time, she limped her way painfully down the creaky stairs to the hallway below. To her left was the front door. She looked at it, considered just opening the door and making a run for it until she realised she probably wouldn't get very far, not with her sprained ankle. Looking out the small window next to the door, all she could see was a concrete yard and fields beyond. Nothing else. No houses. No passing cars. Nothing.

To her right was an open door, leading into the living room of the house. When she looked inside, she realised this must be where her kidnapper stayed. The room was filled with candles on the floor, some of which were still burning. On one of the walls were photographs of men she didn't recognise. The window in the room had two large holes in it, allowing a cold draft to get through that blew the dirty net curtains on either side. There was also a large bag in one corner of the room, which she could see was filled with guns and other stuff.

Maybe there's a phone in there.

She limped over to the bag and painfully knelt down beside it so she could rummage through it. With her bandaged right hand, she moved aside guns, knives, various tools and cans of food. Other things she didn't have time to discern what they were. She only wanted a phone. Nothing else.

After searching through the whole bag she didn't find what she was looking for. "No," she groaned, tears running down her face again.

She stayed on her knees crying for a moment, then forced herself to get it together. Started looking around the room.

Then she saw it. A mobile phone. On the floor next to the old fireplace, beside an empty can of baked beans. "Yes!"

Kaitlin got to her feet as quickly as she could, ignoring all the pain this time. She only cared about getting to the phone. She limped over and picked up the mobile. "Please be working, please be working…"

The screen lit up when she pressed the power button. "Yes!"

She waited interminable moments for the screen to load on the phone, during which time she repeated in her head the number she wanted to dial.

Harry's number.

Not long after he came into her life, Harry insisted that Kaitlin memorise his mobile phone number. He said there might be a time when she needed him and didn't have her own phone on her. So she committed his number to memory. Now she was glad she did.

She dialled the number and put the phone to her ear.

It started ringing.

She closed her eyes and uttered a thank you.

A few long, drawn out moments later, her call was answered. "Hello?"

"Oh my God," Kaitlin said bursting into tears. "Harry, is that you?"

"Kaitlin?" He sounded stunned, like he never expected to hear from her again.

"It's me. Come and get me Harry, please. Before he comes back, please…"

"Kaitlin, slow down, love. Where are you?"

"I don't know. Some house somewhere. I don't know where."

"Alright, hold on." It sounded like he was driving. There was a long pause, then he said, "Okay, Kaitlin. I'm here. You need to listen carefully to me, okay?" His voice was calm, like he was in control of everything, which made her feel slightly calmer as well.

She nodded. "Okay."

"Good girl. We don't have much time here. Are you hurt?"

She focused on all the pain running through her entire body and winced. "Yes, but I'm okay."

"Can you move around okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need you tell me where you are, Kaitlin. Exactly. Do you know?"

Kaitlin looked around the room. "I'm in some old house. I don't know where."

"Can you get outside?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Go outside, Kaitlin, and tell me what you see. Quick as you can. The man who took you is on his way back there. We need to do this before he gets back."

Kaitlin's stomach turned over at the thought of her kidnapper coming back to find her, but she swallowed down her nausea and limped out of the living room and into the hallway. She had to pull on the swollen front door a few times with her injured right hand, but eventually she got the door open and went outside to the front of the house. "I'm outside," she told Harry.

"Good girl. Now tell me what you see."

Kaitlin walked over the front yard, away from the house, and looked around, the smell of concrete and something rotting in the air around her. "I see an old barn," she said. "It was painted red but most of the paint is flaked off. It seems empty."

"That's good, Kaitlin. What else do you see? What colour is the house?"

She stood back and looked at the house. It was the first time she had seen it from the outside and it was bigger than she initially thought it was. "White. But it's dirty. The windowsills are red, but most of the paint is gone."

"Are there any vehicles in the yard?"

"No. Yes. Not really a car or anything. A…what is called? A trailer. At the front of the barn."

"Excellent. Now what's in front of the house? Fields?"

She turned and looked at the expanse of grass that led away from the house. "Yes."

"Is there anything in the fields?"

"A big stone. A boulder, near the middle." She looked again. "And a pole."

"A telegraph pole?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that's all I need," Harry said. "Now I want you to go and find somewhere to hide, Kaitlin, just until I get there."

"For how long?" She hated the thought of having to wait on him coming. She desperately wished he was there already.

"Not long. I promise. You just can't be around when he gets back. You have to hide from him until I get there."

She looked at the old house, which seemed even more foreboding from the outside. "I don't want to go back in that house, Harry. It scares me."

"What about the barn?" he suggested. "Is there anywhere in there you can hide? Just for a little while, that's all."

"I'll look," she said, beginning to limp over towards the old barn. Just as she did, she looked to the right, over the huge field, and saw a car driving along the road about a mile away. "I see a car. Is it you?" She couldn't help feeling hopeful.

"No. That's the man who took you, Kaitlin. Get to the barn. Now!"

The car turned onto the road that led up to the farm. Kaitlin noticed it was orange before she began to move as quickly as she could towards the barn. "The car is orange," she told Harry, struggling to keep her breath in the cold.

"Good girl. Keep going. Hurry now."

"My leg is hurt. I can't run."

"That's okay. Just move as fast as you can."

She made it into the barn finally and hoped she did so before the man in the orange car saw her. The barn smelt of rotting wood, motor oil and a lingering stench of manure or old hay. To her left was a rusted old car with blocks under the tireless wheels. Towards the back of the barn was what seemed like a large pile of rubbish that included old tires, buckets, barrels and some other stuff that she barely took in. She stood for a moment, wondering where to go.

"Can you see anywhere to hide?" Harry asked her, his voice calm, but still full of urgency.

"I…maybe." She thought about climbing into the back of the old car, but decided she didn't want to be trapped in there if the kidnapper came looking. Instead, she moved to the back of the barn, just as she heard the sound of the kidnapper's car pull into the front yard. She limped as fast as she could toward the piles of rubbish, and hid behind a stack of steel oil drums that were partly covered by a dirty green tarpaulin. Her sprained ankle twisted slightly as she sat herself down on the dirty concrete, and she gritted her teeth to muffle the scream of pain that wanted to come out.

"Kaitlin? Are you okay?"

"Yes. Please hurry, Harry. He's back." Her voice had dropped to a frightened whisper now as she heard the kidnapper slam the door of his car.