Devil You Know Read online

  They were dressed in suits, they could have passed as businessmen, but there was a hard look on each of their faces. They didn’t run, not at first. They began striding straight towards us.

  I still couldn’t get my legs to move. “B–Baz.” My voice was a trembling whisper. He was still walking on. Why hadn’t he seen them? “Baz!” My voice was more strident this time.

  Baz stopped, and turned quickly. When he saw my face he glanced back and I knew he had clocked them at last. “Follow me,” he mouthed, and nodded to the road beside us.

  The men’s stride became a run, and that’s when we both bolted. I had never run so fast. My feet pounded on the pavements so hard my soles ached. Baz was well in front of me and I prayed I wouldn’t lose him. I didn’t want to be alone, not with those men behind me.

  We ran over gardens, up back closes, leaping over fences, and then up streets again. There was still hardly anyone about. I barely dared look to see if they were still behind us. But I could hear them. It was Baz who stopped and turned. He looked beyond me. “I don’t see them. Maybe we’ve lost them.”

  “How did they find us, Baz?”

  He shrugged. “They’ve been watching your house. Waiting for you.” He looked around again. No sign of them. “Come on, we’ll try to make it back to your place.”

  I took one step and stopped again. “No.” I said. “I’m not leading them back to my mum.”

  “Well, where are we going to go then?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that. Go into a shop? Just ask for help? But what if the shopkeeper was paying protection money to the Machans?

  Baz pulled me on. “Come on, we can’t stop now.”

  So I ran on behind him. Hoping against all hope we could outrun them.

  Fifty

  I felt my whole body shaking as I ran. They had found us. Last on their list. Me and Baz. ‘Take your medicine like a man,’ they had said to Claude. Now they were ready to dish it out to us.

  Baz darted into a doorway, I ran in with him. He was as breathless as I was.

  “I can’t believe they’re still after us.” I said. “We’re only boys. What do they want from us?”

  “Teaching us a lesson,” he said breathlessly. “We were at the fire. We got Mad Mike arrested.” He kicked at the wall angrily. “And we stole those Xbox games too.”

  “We?” It wasn’t fair. It was Baz who had stolen the games, not me. He had pushed the games to me and I had pushed them back, how could he not remember that? Yet, even then, I couldn’t bring myself to say it to him. Because after all… what had those surveillance cameras shown? Me, with the games in my hands. And it was Baz who had dared Al Butler to start the fire, not me. But what was the point of saying that now?

  Baz went on. “No one messes with the Machans.”

  “What will they do to us if they catch us, Baz?”

  He didn’t answer. And I saw, for the first time, real fear in his face. We had both heard the horror stories of what they could do, these people. They were ruthless, capable of anything. Even to boys like us. What had they done to Gary?

  I heard running feet, heading down the empty street. Still after us. We moved back, pressed ourselves further into the doorway. I think we both wished we could melt into the steel panels of the door. I had never seen Baz look scared. He was always cocky, sure of himself, now he looked really frightened. Beads of sweat dripped down his face.

  Or maybe that wasn’t fear I saw at all. Did he look guilty too? And why should I think that?

  How had they found us? It was as if they had known we were heading home, had been waiting for us.

  And I remembered that phone call. He had walked away, turned his back on me, said he’d texted his auntie.

  But is that what he had really been doing? I pushed the thought away. I was being paranoid. I had to trust Baz. He was all I had left.

  The sound of running feet faded into the distance. It had only been an early morning worker hurrying for his bus.

  “Let’s go.” Baz pulled at me, and, again, I followed.

  We turned a corner, and we were in a part of the estate that looked familiar. It was open ground. Here a lot of the houses had been demolished to make way for new builds, the streets were eerily empty, with weeds covering the road and the pavements. I almost panicked. There was nowhere to hide. We ran on and I saw with relief a long line of lock-up garages and empty flats, boarded up ready to be demolished.

  “Down here,” Baz waved; we turned a corner into an alley of lock-ups – then panic did set in. I knew where we were. I recognised the alley we had run into.

  “This is a dead end!” I tried not to shout.

  The dead end we had led the Young Bow into. They had followed us here, and we had trapped them, and now we were in the same trap.

  “What did you bring us here for?” Baz was supposed to know where he was going. “It’s a dead end!”

  He was shaking his head. Still refusing to admit he could ever be wrong. He was looking all around. “No! Look!” He pointed to the big warehouse with the signs on its windows and walls.

  TO BUY OR LEASE

  It was locked tight shut, no help to us. Except… except for a one small broken panel in a window. Men couldn’t get through there. But boys could.

  Baz saw it too. “Let’s get in here,” he said. “This is a good place. Come on.”

  We took another look round. A car passed at the end of the alley, but there was no one about. I imagined those men running after us, crossing the open waste ground, seeing the lock-ups and the flats. They would soon be checking one alley after another. We couldn’t outrun them, but maybe we could hide from them.

  “They’re going to get to the end of that alley, they might even run up here, but they’ll see it’s a dead end, no sign of us, and they’ll think we’ve run on somewhere else. Right?” Baz said.

  “Yeah, right,” I was still afraid, but I could see the sense in that. There was no time to waste, and I pulled over a couple of crates that were lying around, and laid one on top of the other beneath the broken window. I climbed up. The jagged opening was small. I turned to Baz. “I can just make it through,” I said to him. “Will you?”

  Baz nodded. “I can make it if you can.”

  I gripped the window to pull myself up and the broken glass cut into my hands. Blood bubbled on my palm, but I felt no pain. I just wanted to get inside. I smashed the glass even more, made a wider opening for Baz, then I pushed myself through.

  I jumped to the floor, looked around. It was a big empty warehouse, built on two floors. There were a couple of rooms at the back, offices maybe, and a steel staircase rising to the upper floor. We could hide here, till it was safe to move on.

  Move on where? a voice inside my head asked.

  One thing at a time, I can’t think further than this moment.

  Fifty-One

  Baz was right, those men wouldn’t think we’d be in here. They would come up the alley, see it was a dead end and they would head back down and run on. We’d be safe here, for a while anyway.

  “We should call the police,” I said. “Now’s the time.” But I had no battery. My phone was dead.

  Baz looked at his phone. “Same,” he said.

  “What are we gonna do?” I asked.

  Baz stepped away from me. “We should hide in two different places. I’ll go in the back.” He pointed to what looked like one of the offices.

  I wanted to go with him. Didn’t want us to separate. Why couldn’t we just stay together? But I couldn’t bring myself to say that to him.

  I didn’t have to say it. Baz obviously knew what I was thinking. “We’re better being separate. If one of us gets caught, the other can run, then we can contact the cops.” He pushed me away from him. “No time to talk, Logan. You go up the stairs. There’s bound to be somewhere up there. Maybe even another window you can get out of, a fire escape or something.” He was already backing away from me. “If you get a chance to escape, take it, I’ll unde
rstand. If anything happens. Just go,” he said.

  I looked up the rickety steel staircase. Would there be somewhere up there to hide? I held back.

  “Go!” Baz said again. “They’re not even going to come in here. We’ll be safe.” He tried a smile, but it didn’t work, not this time. “We’ll give it half an hour… then we’ll come out. Ok?”

  And then, I was alone. Baz disappeared into the office and I was left on my own. I looked up. Pigeons had nested among the steel rafters. One of them fluttered in the roof and then was gone. The stairs clanged as I climbed. I stopped and tried to tiptoe, I was making too much noise. Thoughts were whirling in my head: what we should have done, what we shouldn’t have done. We should have run on. We shouldn’t have come into this dead-end alley. Why had we come into this warehouse? But maybe Baz was right, maybe it was a good place. Those men, they must have run past. If they’d been coming, they would be here by now. I stopped halfway up, listening for the sound of their running footsteps outside. Nothing. We could wait here, perhaps till nightfall then… Go to the first police station we could find. That was what I decided to do. Easier to decide that without Baz arguing about it. I began to climb again. I’d find a place up here and wait. Give myself time to think. I needed time to think.

  There was no office up here. No window either. No handy fire escape. Nothing except rows of steel shelving stacked up right at the back against the wall. I could hide in behind them. I stepped warily over some heavy plastic pipes lying on the floor, covered in dust.

  I walked to the very back wall, then crouched down and began pushing my rucksack ahead of me. I crawled behind the last row of the steel shelving then I huddled in the corner, hugging my knees. I hadn’t prayed in a long time, but I prayed now. They wouldn’t come. I kept telling myself that. They hadn’t seen us climbing in here. They would have run past the alley, were probably still running.

  Please.

  My foot knocked against something on the floor. It was a screwdriver with a red handle, left by some workman. I picked it up. Would I have the nerve to use it as a weapon if I had to? I held it tight in my palm and winced with pain.

  My hand dripped blood. I remembered with horror the way I had cut it as I squeezed through the window. Saw again my blood dripping down the jagged glass. My blood would still be there on the glass, on the sill. Fresh blood. If they looked they would see it. They would know we had come through that window, and into this warehouse.

  My teeth chattered with fear.

  But if they didn’t come up this alley they wouldn’t even see the blood. And even if they did, they could never get through that broken window the way Baz and I had done. The thought comforted me for a moment.

  But they didn’t need to come through the window, did they?

  They had the keys to front door.

  Fifty-Two

  I didn’t hear the door opening. I only saw the light stream in as it swung wide. I waited. I listened. I bit into my hand to stop my teeth chattering. I could feel cold sweat dripping down my face. I heard footsteps and, though they must have only been whispering, the echoes of their quiet voices carried up to the rafters. As if those pigeons had caught the words in their beaks and had flown up here with them. Were they the same men who had been after us? I knew they must be. Those whispers had a menacing quality. Had Baz heard them too? Maybe if there was a window in that office downstairs he might already be gone. I wouldn’t blame him. I could imagine his long legs stretching as he went through another window. He could run for the police. He would run for the police.

  No window for me. The only chance I had was to stay here, quiet as death, still as a corpse. Maybe they’d give up, go away. Look for us somewhere else.

  Did these people ever give up?

  There was no sound. My breathing was all I could hear and it was too loud. I tried to stop breathing. I really did. I was terrified to move. I listened and held tight to the screwdriver.

  Nothing. I hoped for a moment that they had gone.

  Maybe it was a trap. Maybe they were waiting for me. I imagined them on the stairs, ready to spring at me if I emerged from this hiding place.

  I was desperate to scratch my nose. How stupid was that? And I didn’t dare. The tiniest movement would make too much noise. That scratch would be like steel claws being dragged down a blackboard.

  Then I heard the sound of feet on steel. One of them was climbing up that stairway, heading to where I was. Clang, clang, clang. Moving steadily. Not in any hurry. As if they already knew I was trapped.

  But they still might not find me. Not know I was there. Not if I was quiet enough. They couldn’t possibly see me here. I tried to fold myself behind the steel, merge into the metal.

  Had they already got Baz? Was he even now being held by the other man, downstairs, a hand clamped over his mouth? My whole body was shaking with fear. Was Baz shaking too? Bet he wasn’t. No, not Baz. He’d still be full of that bravado of his. He’d be spitting at them, struggling against them. Trying to bite into the man’s hand. How I wished I had some of that bravado now.

  I had none of his boldness. I was just me. Useless me. And I knew then, no matter what I did, they were going to get me.

  This was karma.

  That was what the Asian man on the television had called it. Karma. You repay for all you do, good or bad.

  What goes around, comes around.

  The man had reached the top of the stairs now and I watched his feet approaching under the row of shelving. He couldn’t see me, but he would any minute. He would crouch down and peer under and there would be a look of triumph on his face. Gotya! The feet stepped closer. All I could see were shiny brown leather shoes.

  I couldn’t stay still any longer. Attack is the best form of defence. I’d read that somewhere. This was the only chance I would have. If I waited any longer I would be in his clutches, too late to do anything. I sprang to my feet, and pushed hard at the steel shelving. It began to topple and fall with a crash and a clatter. I saw his feet step back hurriedly, but he couldn’t avoid them completely. He let out a yell as the steel fell against his legs, trapping him. I didn’t give him a second to think. I jumped past him. A stubby tanned hand shot out from beneath the steel and tried to grab me. He caught at my ankle and I stumbled and rolled on the floor away from him, but he still reached out to me. I stabbed at his hands with the screwdriver. It caught him and he drew it back with a yell of pain. He was still trapped under the steel. I shot to my feet again. Then suddenly I realised there were two of them up here. The other one had come up the stairs too when he heard his partner yell. Relief flooded through me. Yes, relief. Because if the two of them were up here… then there was no one down there. If I made it to the ground, I could be out of here and off. Safe.

  The other man was at the top of the stairs, barring my way. He was built like a sumo wrestler, bursting out of the suit he was wearing. I was quick. I was young. Maybe even smarter than them. I rolled a long plastic pipe that was lying on the floor at him. Then another and another. He had to jump to dodge them, but stumbled and fell back, away from the stairs. I didn’t waste any time. I ran. If I could make it down, I could get out. I could get out again through that window, or even through the door if they’d left it open. I think I almost leapt the whole flight. Glanced back for an instant to see how close he was behind me. And he wasn’t close enough. Still at the top of the stairs. Not even rushing to come down.

  I was going to make it.

  In that same second another hand grabbed me and I was hauled back with such force I was sent sprawling along the floor. “Going somewhere, son?”

  There were three of them.

  Fifty-Three

  I’d been tricked. Two of them had come after me. I just hadn’t considered that there might be a third down here. He was a big man, a flick of brown hair over his forehead, a long face and great fat cheeks. He looked like a horse – that was my thought at that moment. Then I had a sudden cold feeling. I had seen him somewhere b
efore. I swayed when I realised who he was.

  This was Mad Mike Machan himself.

  He just stood there, watching me, and smiling. I couldn’t see any way out of this now. I sat up, dragged myself back so I had my back against the wall.

  And that was when I saw Baz.

  He was stepping softly behind Machan. I tried not to look at him. Maybe Machan didn’t know Baz was there. Maybe Baz had an escape plan. He’d get out, get the police.

  He looked up at me. He looked nervous. Could I blame him for that? No.

  I dared a glance and saw him run his tongue along his lips.

  “Can I go now?” His voice echoed in that tin coffin of a building. “I told you where he was. Can I go now?”

  Now I looked straight at him. I stared at him. I’m sure my jaw dropped. What was he saying? What did he mean?

  Machan followed my eyes. Baz began to back away from him. “You said you wouldn’t do anything to me if I told you where he was. You promised.”

  Baz was leaving. Leaving me alone.

  “Baz!” I shouted after him.

  Machan turned back to me. His smile was a slash of menace. “No one’s going to help you now, son,” he said.

  And when I looked back, Baz was no longer there. I could still hear him, hear his footsteps pounding away. He was hauling open the door, knew he could get out that way. He hadn’t even looked back.

  Baz was gone.

  Fifty-Four

  He’d betrayed me. Baz had betrayed me. Someone I had trusted so much had betrayed me? Had he led me here, knowing they would come? I remembered that phone call I had seen him making – no text message to Auntie Dorothy. Of course not. How did he know how to contact them? How long had it been going on? Was he the black figure who had attacked Claude? Wasn’t that what I had feared? Was that how he had known exactly what Claude had said? Because he was there? And had he been the one who poisoned Mickey’s dog? Had it all started then? Had he contacted them, told them he knew how to get us all, as long as they let him be? Brave bold Baz, the boy I had admired so much, had been the most cowardly of us all.