“Right, into that room, there.” Ordered Stan, and he pointed the barrel of his gun towards an open door, just to Mary’s left. She nodded, and did as Stan requested, entering a darkened bedroom. Behind her, Stan switched on the light. Mary glanced around. The room was full of cardboard boxes of different sizes. Some were open, and empty, others were still sealed. “You’ll have to forgive the mess. I only moved into this place a few months ago. I still haven’t got around to unpacking everything.” Stan informed her. “This is where you’ll be staying, for tonight.” He went on. Mary noticed an old, dirty white mattress lying on the floor in the corner of the bedroom. She also couldn’t help but spot a smear of dried blood on it. Stan gave Mary a push, so that she was standing right over the mattress. “Get on it, and stay there. I’ll be back in a few minutes with some blankets.” Said the elderly man. Mary sank down, and got onto the mattress. She looked up at her captor, who was staring down with his cold, blue eyes. “Remember what I said. Stay put.” He reminded Mary, before turning and leaving the bedroom. Mary heard a lock click on the bedroom door, followed by the creaking of wooden floorboards as Stan walked across the landing, towards another bedroom.
A few moments later, Stan unlocked the bedroom door and re-entered the room. He was carrying a pile of bedding, which he tossed towards Mary.
“Look,” said Mary, “what’s all this ab…”
“HUSH!” Interrupted Stan, putting his finger up to his lips. “No questions. I want you to go to sleep now. I’ll be back in the morning. If you need the toilet, then there’s a bucket, just near that wardrobe.” He said. Mary looked over to the wardrobe, which had a door missing. Just in front of it was a filthy, metal container, with a length of dried excrement, and more blood, staining the outside of it. Mary felt herself wretch a little, which Stan noticed.
“Stop being such a fussy little madam. You’re better off in here than being outside, what with that Howard Trenton chap roaming around. You should think yourself lucky. Now pull yourself together, and get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” Advised Stan, before leaving the bedroom again, and locking the door.
Mary listened to the sound of Stan walking back down the staircase. When she felt it was safe, she got up from off the mattress. Her first action was to check the bedroom window. Mary quietly pulled back the curtains that were covering it; there was only a small, separate pain of glass, at the very top of the window, that could be opened; it would be impossible to climb through. Thwarted, Mary walked across to the bedroom door and tried to open it, even though she’d heard Stan lock it just moments ago. Sure enough, it wouldn’t budge. Right. What the hell do I do now? Mary wondered. I know. I need to find something… anything… to use as a weapon. Yeah, Stan’s got a shotgun, but I need to try and even the odds just a little. I can’t just do nothing. It’s a shame he made me leave my backpack downstairs, before marching me up here… my swiss army knife’s in there, somewhere. Okay, it’s not much, but it’s something. Oh well, there’s nothing I can do about that now. Mary suddenly remembered her mobile phone, which she’d put into the pocket of her jeans when she’d got changed, just after wading through the river with Shark. Mary pulled out the phone. There was no signal.
Mary sighed to herself.
“This isn’t gonna work, but I may as well try.” She whispered. Mary opened up the contact list on the phone. She’d exchanged numbers with Shark earlier that morning, before everything had turned to shit. Mary began typing a text message to her friend.
Stan lied to u he sent u the wrong way he has locked me in bedroom get help if u can but don’t come back here, 2 dangerous. Mary
Mary pressed the ‘send’ tab. A message flashed up.
Cannot send. Retry? Yes/ no
Mary pressed ‘yes’. A repeat message appeared.
Cannot send. Retry? Yes/ no
She tried sending the text again, and was greeted with the same message as before. Mary pressed ‘yes’, but didn’t particularly want to see the ‘failed’ message anymore. She was just about to put the mobile phone back in her pocket, when it made a short bleeping noise, indicating that the text had gone through. Mary looked at the display, which said,
Message sent
“It bloody well worked!” Mumbled Mary. With trembling hands, she tried to dial Shark’s mobile number. Her call wouldn’t go through; the signal was gone again. Mary moved the phone around, holding it up in the air, but the signal refused to come back. But maybe Shark’s got the message. I just pray to God that she has… hoped Mary.
***
The noise came again; it was the sound of Shark’s mobile phone beeping. Immediately, Shark pulled the phone from the pocket of her combat trousers.
I’ve got a signal! I’ve got a full-on signal! Shark opened up the text message inbox on her mobile device. She frowned; it was a communication from Mary. Shark looked at the text.
Stan lied to u he sent u the wrong way he has locked me in bedroom get help if u can but don’t come back here, 2 dangerous. Mary
Shark staggered backwards a few steps upon reading the message.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” she spoke, at the phone, “this just can’t be fucking happening.” A voice suddenly cut through the air, coming from somewhere behind Shark, male, high-pitched, almost cheerful.
“What’s the matter, Shark? Have you just had some bad news or something?” The voice asked. Shark spun around, looking back towards the railway bridge. There was somebody standing underneath it. A person with dull, yellow eyes that softly glowed in the darkness. The mobile phone fell from Shark’s hand, hitting one of her hiking boots before landing on the gravel path. “Hey, you’ve dropped your phone.” Said Howard Trenton, in a concerned manner. He emerged from under the bridge. “Here, let me come and pick it up for you.” Howard walked slowly towards Shark…
***
Having given up on the mobile phone again getting a signal, Mary began looking around the farmhouse bedroom for something that she could possibly use as a weapon. There was a half-opened cardboard box close to the door. Mary began rummaging around inside it. The box was half-full of books, most of them centring around true crime. She pulled some of the books out, looking at the titles. ‘The Strange Case of Donald De’ath - Lifting the Curtain on the Hanley Killer’, ‘The Dead Winter Mountain Murders - The True Story of Stephen Morris Hartley’, ‘Unsolved - Who is the M81 Slayer?’, ‘The Exington/ Merivale Murders and the Unmasking of Brian Miller’… Mary placed the books back into the box, before moving over to another container, close to the dirty mattress. Inside the box were more books, again, mostly about true-crime, but one of them immediately caught Mary’s attention.
‘Inside the Mind of Ben Askew, Triple Killer’, read the words on the cover, together with a photograph of a dark-haired, handsome man, in his mid to late thirties, and with startling blue eyes. Mary’s stomach churned; she recognised the man on the book cover straight away; it was her captor, Stan.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Shark Mako scooped her mobile phone up from off the gravel path, and began backing away from Howard Trenton, who was slowly walking towards her.
“There’s no point in running away from me all of the time, Shark… you should know by now that I’ll always be able to find you.” Smirked Howard.
“Just stay away from me, you fucking freak,” warned Shark, “unless you fancy having two broken arms instead of just one, by the time morning comes around.”
“Big words, Shark, but that’s not gonna happen. I’m finished toying around with you now.” Said Howard, drawing his knife. “It’s time to end our brief relationship. I don’t think it’s working out, do you?” He asked. “Our personalities, they clash too much. We’re just never gonna get on, are we?” Howard smiled. He stopped walking towards Shark, and looked around. “Where’s Mary, then? Out in the bushes, having a piss or something?”