Chapter 38

It takes the pair of them to lift me; her at my feet, him at my shoulders; carrying me to a car parked, as I
now realise, only yards away. They roll me over the edge of the trunk, where I thump down, landing
awkwardly and on my face. Twisting, I’m still trying to ease myself into a more comfortable position
when, letting me see her do it, Juliana delves into her bag again. She produces a small bottle, sets it on
the edge of the trunk, then after another rummage, plastic packets containing syringe and needle…

My bladder tightens.

At least the needle will be clean…

“He's not going anywhere, Sola,” says Jose. “Nowhere we don't want him to go anyway.”

“I don’t want him enjoying the ride too much. Just check he's properly restrained.”

Jose leans in, gripping me at my shoulder, rolling me. He prods at my knees and my ankles, both
locked tight. Then at my elbows. “He’s fine.”

“Good.” Juliana’s eyes flick between mine and the needle and syringe as she assembles them. Then
she grins again as she draws clear liquid from the bottle. “You’re going to take a little nap, Larry.”

I want to look away but force myself to watch as she holds the needle over me. Lamplight glints from
the tip as she hovers over my arm then moves instead for my neck.

She’s not gentle, stabbing in. My vision is already blackening, my ears buzzing as she gives me a quick
pat on the cheek. “Just think of the fun we’re going to have together, you and I.”

Then she slams the lid down, and I fall into the darkness both inside and outside my skull…

*****



I wake to a banging headache and a foul taste in my mouth. Behind the tape, I swipe my tongue inside
cheeks and over teeth, trying to work up enough saliva to moisten cotton-puff flesh.

It takes a little while for me to gather my head and make sense of the rest.

I’m lying side-on in the confined space of the trunk, chin pressing toward my chest, knees crooked. It’s
dark, but not completely so, as light leaks through crevices.

The car grumbles and vibrates, stopping and starting irregularly with jolts that bang my forehead
against some metal object; a car jack I think. My face stings where I scraped the ground earlier. My
spine strains at my unnatural posture.

Outside; the sounds of other traffic; a lot of it, as though we are travelling through a city centre; the
grind of engines, the hooting of horns, occasional shouting and swearing. My arms are still locked
behind me, the plastic ties digging in. My fingertips feel swollen and numb at the same time. My ankles
are much the same. With some difficulty, I shuffle along a little to stop the jack jamming into my skull
every time the car goes over a rough spot.

But the pain is nothing. I know what Juliana is capable of; the depth of her vindictiveness. Panic rises in
a surging tide, threatening to overwhelm.

Baxter…

… as I last saw him…

… Cuffed, fettered, both hands smashed; hammer and crowbar used on bone and flesh until they were
all but pulped; beyond all hope of repair or surgery. Probably needing amputation…

… Both arms and one leg broken. A smashed knee. And then, shackled to a wall so he couldn’t stand
upright. Couldn’t sit either. Abandoned… Twisted, agonised and bloody…



… for me to find.

Will he ever walk normally again? I doubt it. The surgeons can only do so much. There has to be
enough left for them to repair.

And now, I am Juliana’s prisoner.

The air is hot, stifling in the confined space.

It comes to me that my cheek is pressed against something, harder, then softer with the rocking of the
vehicle. It sticks slightly to my skin. And now, with time to think about my surroundings, there’s an odd
smell; slightly floral, but with a metallic tang…

Oh, fuck…

Straining to slant eyes downward, I make out plastic wrap. And inside that, packets; hundreds of small
plastic packets.

My face is pillowed against a street value of a million or more in cocaine.

Hope to Christ they're properly sealed…

Am I breathing the dust?

Probably not. I have no sense of a Superman high. Quite the contrary. As I try to see sidelong, from my
awkward position and in the limited light, it does seem that the plastic sheet under my face is sturdy
stuff; heavy-duty.

And Juliana doesn’t want me dead. Not this way at least.

…. You're not going to die. Not yet. I want you to live for a long, long time…



What’s she planning?

My bladder protests, with every jolt and rumble of the car, threatening to rebel and cut loose.

Don’t piss yourself…

She’d love that…

The sound of traffic dies. The drive grows smoother and for me, marginally less uncomfortable. My only
possible movement is the rocking of my body with the swing of the vehicle, the vibration of the engine.

After a while, I sway sidelong against the side, the car easing into a turn. The engine grinds to a halt,
rumbles then dies. A handbrake squeaks on.

From right and left, the click and thud of doors opening. The crunch of footsteps, the clunk of the trunk
lock and the lid opens, flooding brilliant sunshine into my prison.

Despite myself, I gurgle and turn streaming eyes away from the daylight until a shadow falls over my
face. Juliana’s silhouette looms black against an azure sky. “That’s better, Larry. We have a little
privacy now…”

She produces the hypo again, leaning in… “… I hope you’re enjoying your little ride. I'll not spoil the
surprise by telling you where we’re going.

The needle pierces my skin and once more, the world fades to black.

*****

 

James



“That’s enough for your first lesson, Georgie,” I say. “You’ll be creased up tomorrow if you do too much
in one go.”

My daughter… my elder daughter… teeters uncertainly in the saddle. “Is that enough exercise for a
horse? It didn’t feel like long.”

“No, but Charlotte will take her out now and give her a good run. If it’s something you want to do again,
we’ll come out tomorrow. C’mon, I’ll help you down.”

Leading Charlie and Oliver back to the stable, Charlotte is waiting, already wearing boots and helmet.
She runs a quick eye over Charlie then smiles at Georgie. “All good? Enjoy that?”

“Very much. I’d love to do it again if that’s okay?”

“Course it is.” She turns to me. “You take Georgie back to the house. I’ll see to these two.”

Oliver snorts and pushes forward, nuzzling at a pocket for the apples he knows she keeps there.

*****


62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda