Savage Night - Allan Guthrie [90]
Jordan dabbed at his swollen lip with the back of his hand. Licked blood off it. "Dad," he said. "I want to go home."
Tommy ruffled his son's hair with his thumb. "Me too," he said. "And we will. Just as soon as we're done with Effie and her dad."
***
WHEN THEY ARRIVED, Effie nestled the van behind Old Mrs Yardie's car and turned off the engine. Savage stared straight ahead. She thought again about making a grab for the gun, but despite the direction of his gaze, the gun was trained on her.
"You stay here," Savage said, head still fixed to the front.
She thought he was talking to her. She was mistaken.
He looked at Jordan. "Me and her will go inside."
"I don't want to stay here."
"You'll be safe."
"Dad."
"Please, Jordan."
"I don't want to. There's dead bodies in here."
"There're dead bodies everywhere, son."
"But, dad…"
"You're staying right here. Do as you're told."
"I'm scared."
"Don't be silly."
"I'm not being silly."
"Look, they're corpses. They can't harm you. It's the people who are alive you should be scared of."
Effie wondered why Savage didn't want the kid in the house.
"Jordan," Savage said. "I need your help." Here was her answer. "I need you to blast the horn if you see a police car coming this way. I can't do this without you."
"Why not?"
"I don't have time to explain. You have to stay here."
"And beep the horn?"
"Yeah. If you see a police car."
"Won't it be too late by then?"
"Maybe," Savage said. "But at least I can finish up what I'm doing."
"What're you going to do?"
Savage looked at Effie and she shivered. "Not something you need to worry about," he said to Jordan.
She'd stopped shaking for a while, hadn't noticed at the time, but noticed once it started again. The look on Savage's face was freaky as hell. The bastard was no doubt planning all sorts of evil shit. Not going to be content with shooting Martin. She still didn't believe he was dead. Somehow. Despite seeing the evidence. Still thought he'd get up and look at her and say her name.
Oh, God. There was that image again, the hole in his face, hitting her like a blow to the head.
"What's wrong with you?" Savage said.
"Let's get this done," she said.
He nodded.
"Dad," Jordan said. "I don't want to stay in the van."
"Okay," Savage said. "We'll all go. If the police come, they come."
***
TWO COPS. SHOT dead. One missing his shoes.
"You do this?" she said.
A pause. "Your dad," Savage replied.
Had they been alone, she was sure he'd have wanted to impress her, scare her, make her think he was ruthless and manly. But with the kid, he didn't want to seem like a bad daddy. He was a drunk trying to behave sober and fooling nobody.
Jordan put his hand over his mouth. He'd seen the bodies of his uncle and brother but they'd been all wrapped up. Now he was faced with the difference between butchering your own meat and buying it all neatly packaged in the supermarket. Far too much for an eleven-year-old.
Effie said, "Where now?"
"Upstairs," Savage said.
"Is he alive?" she asked.
"You might not believe me," Savage said, "but I really have no idea."
***
FOR A FRACTION of a second Park thought it wasn't so bad. Then it hit him. And it was bad. Couldn't have predicted just how bad. He'd broken bones before but he'd never felt anything like this.
Deep pain sliced through his arm. Not just his wrist, but the entire arm, from fingertip to shoulderblade. He yelled, let go of the sword. It didn't fall to the ground. Either it was stuck in the ground, or still stuck in his arm. Jesus. Jesus fuck.
He breathed in. Yelled again. Legs kicked out. Toes curled. The fingers of his good hand squeezed into a fist, nails digging into his palm. Tendons tight enough to snap. Eyes watering. Moist breath against the cloth over his head. Gasps. Heartbeat going crazy.