The guy’s voice came over the phone again. Deep, husky, calm. ‘Once he’s untied, bring the phone, get off the coach and walk along the path round the front. You’ll find a vehicle a couple of hundred yards from you; the keys are in the ignition. You have ten minutes, otherwise, bang.’
The phone went dead.
Ben stared at the screen, a multitude of outcomes raced through his mind. The guy on the phone said that Stephen had been involved in a hit-and-run. Now he was going to put it right. What did he mean – ‘Put it right’. He said, ‘I need to untie Stephen.’
‘Ben, you can’t go out there,’ Laura insisted.
‘I have no choice.’ He stood and went to where the young lad sat. His eyes were still closed, and the side of his face was pressed against the cold glass. Ben reached his arm forward, tapping Stephen’s shoulder, shaking him gently. ‘Hey. We need to go. Wake up.’
Stephen’s eyes opened. The lad momentarily forgot where he was. ‘What’s wrong?’
Ben crouched, keeping his voice low so’s not to agitate the other passengers. ‘Look, this is extremely difficult, but I have no choice. We have no choice. You need to understand. If there were another way, I’d find one.’
Stephen went to stand, forgetting he’d been tied to the chair. ‘I’m listening.’
Ben looked over his shoulder, then back to Stephen. His daughter was trying to calm Lydia. ‘This guy, whoever he is, whatever he has planned, is watching us. He said I had to untie you, then we walk together, away from the coach. If you don’t come with me, we’re dead.’
9
Ben and Stephen
They were alone, walking towards the vehicle. Ben and Stephen were roughly halfway between the coach and the car further along the road.
‘What did you do exactly?’ Ben asked. He stopped, turning towards the young lad, realising how direct his question had been. He wanted to prepare himself for whatever the caller had set up.
Stephen hesitated, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold air. The blood had started to return to his body, the temporary paralysis evaporating. ‘It was a mistake. I’d had a couple of drinks. Christ, I didn’t mean to do it. Gareth told me we’d get a taxi; but I couldn’t afford it, I’m not working, I had college fees. I didn’t mean to hit her.’ Stephen broke down. He turned to the side and covered his face.
Ben placed his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. ‘I’m not here to judge. My family’s safety is my priority but we can’t walk away from this. Whatever this bastard wants us to do, let’s get it over with so we can get on with our lives.’
The two men continued walking. They were roughly fifty yards from the car.
Ben stopped suddenly. ‘I think it’s mine. The car, I mean. Andrew drove it away earlier. Can you see anyone in the driver’s seat?’
‘I don’t think so. It’s too dark.’
They approached the car and Ben opened the driver’s door. It was empty.
‘Shit. What’s happened to him?’ Ben asked. He looked on the seats, searching for bloodstains. He presumed the caller had pulled him out of the car before shooting him. He quickly reached under the driver’s seat, pawing on the floor for his phone. He found nothing.
They were alarmed when the phone rang from the back of Ben’s pocket. ‘It’s him. Keep calm; we need to let him think we’re in control of our emotions.’
‘And how are we supposed to do that?’ Stephen asked.
Ben lifted the phone to his ear, struggling to keep his hands still.
‘Get into the car,’ said the caller. ‘You’ll find the keys in the ignition. Start the car and drive along the road.’
Ben moved into the front, and Stephen sat in the passenger seat.
‘Not the young lad. He stays outside.’
Ben turned to Stephen, knowing the caller was close. ‘You need to get out.’
‘What?’
‘Outside. Stand outside,’ Ben demanded.
Stephen slowly reached the handle, opened the door and stepped out of the car.
‘Now, you’re going to drive as fast as possible,’ the voice instructed.
‘This is ridiculous. I’m not playing these fucking games. People’s lives are at risk.’
‘You’re right, including the passengers on the coach. Don’t do anything to jeopardise their situation.’
Ben placed it and the torch on the passenger seat, started the engine, turned on the lights and slowly tapped the accelerator.
‘I want you to speed up.’
‘The road’s narrow. How do you expect me to speed?’ Ben’s arms were shaking. He pushed his body forward, trying to see outside.
The voice was calm. ‘Press the accelerator to the floor.’
Ben switched on the full lights. The road ahead edged to the left. He watched the speedometer; the car was moving faster, the wing mirror clipping bushes, branches swaying with the force.
He worried about Laura, Milly, the people stranded, held prisoner on the coach. Questions powered through his mind. Why would he do this? How the heck would it all finish? Ben needed to be strong, positive. Now wasn’t the time to panic. He had to hold his shit together. It was going to be a long night, and this lunatic only seemed to be starting his games.
Ben followed the road around in a circle; his hands were wet and sticky with sweat, his eyes glazed, his head aching.
The voice on the line was urging him to speed. He had little choice. In his side vision was a haze of darkness, shadows darting, racing, swirling like a spinning top. Ben glanced at his speed: forty-three miles an hour. On a motorway, it would seem like a stroll, the first lane, tightly jammed between cars, lorries clinging to your bumper, traffic slowing, drivers passing and giving you the finger, horns blaring, an ebb of agitation as people passed.
Now it seemed dangerous, beyond lunacy. Ben needed to draw a conversation with this person. It was worth a shot at least. He took a deep breath, shifted in the seat, then began. ‘Can I ask you a question? I have a family, a beautiful daughter called Milly. She’s eighteen, getting ready to go to university. She’s a bright child. She looks after people. She cares. My wife, Laura, is the love of my life. We’re going to Barcelona, a celebration of our twenty years together. Yes, we have cross words, we niggle, who doesn’t? But she’s the most incredible lady I’ve ever met. I’m asking you to stop now. They’ve suffered enough. Let’s end this and move on with our lives. Let the people on the coach go. Whatever they’ve done. For whatever reason they’re here. Let them go. Please.’
There was a long pause. Ben thought the guy had hung up.
But then the voice came out of the phone. ‘Let me explain something to you. The world has become an excruciatingly, cruel place. Laughter has been replaced with tears – joy with contempt – gratitude with jealousy. People’s souls have been replaced with hard, putrid rock.’
Ben was taken aback. This guy was messed up, hurt, bitter. He was unsure of how to answer. ‘So what, you make it worse by doing what you’re doing? Is that it?’
For the first time, he heard laughter, then it stopped. ‘It’s a sick, twisted life we live. No one gives a rat’s arse. They couldn’t care less.’