Alex Palmer - The Labyrinth of Drowning

He turned the lights on low beam. The hut’s door lit up dully as a dirty green. The clear ground about the hut itself became a lighter grey. The colours of the end of the world. Grace checked both sides of the hut as best she could. There was no one in sight. Why didn’t you come, Clive? Three times I called you. Why didn’t you come ?

Carrying her gun, Griffin got out of the car and walked up to the Mazda, tried the doors. It was locked. He stood there looking around. Grace tried to move but she was pinned in her seat.

‘Where are you?’ he called out. ‘Why did you lock the car? I told you, we have no time. We can’t play any games.’ He turned on the spot. ‘Sara? If you’re here, come out. Stop playing these fucking games! There’s no time!’

There was no answer, only the silence of the night.

‘Are you there?’ Griffin called, anger in his voice. ‘Come out! Don’t do this to me!’

Again, nothing. He walked to Grace’s side of the car and opened the door. He reached across to unfasten her seatbelt and it struck her, the terror he’d said she would feel. I am here, this is real, there’s no way out . It took complete possession of her.

He stood back. ‘Get out.’

She couldn’t move. He laughed.

‘I knew it would happen,’ he said. ‘It always does.’

The laughter gave her something to hang on to, some residual stubbornness. She got out. I have nothing to lose now . Her body seemed to be flashing hot and cold; she felt she would lose control of it. Hold on. Don’t let them turn you into a thing they want you to be.

Griffin had her by the hair. ‘This way.’ Pulled her to just in front of the hut. The stars seemed to wheel overhead.

I want to see my daughter. I want to see Paul. I may not see them again .

‘Kneel.’

She knelt. He had put his gun away somewhere, a pocket perhaps, and produced a knife instead. He put it to her neck. She felt the bite of steel on her skin. He had nicked her.

‘Move and this knife will find the vein. I’m not like Chris. I know what I’m doing.’

She began to shake uncontrollably. She did not know how to stop it. There were tears in her eyes. He wasn’t looking at her.

‘Sara? Where are you?’ Again the only reply was silence. ‘There can’t be anyone else here. She must be here.’

‘What about the people who left our car?’ Grace was surprised to hear herself speak. Her voice was shaking.

‘They’re gone. You see, I told you. You’re starting to come apart now. I knew it when I saw how you reacted to Chris’s name that day in Westfield. This is the way to you. A knife and a can of petrol.’

‘You aren’t him,’ she said, some strange calmness coming out of nowhere.

‘What did you say?’

She stayed silent.

‘You’re not as frightened of me, is that what you mean? Feel that? You will be.’ He cut her again, a little deeper. ‘Stand up.’

She stood. In the car headlights, he looked at her neck.

‘You see-you’re bleeding a little. Everyone starts somewhere.’

He called out again. ‘Sara. I don’t want to wait. Where are you?’

A thumping came from inside the hut, a rattling of the chain on the door.

‘Oh, no, she didn’t,’ Griffin said. ‘I told her not to.’

The thumping continued.

‘ I told you not to! ’

Another bang, then more thumping, frantic. Holding Grace in a grip that twisted her down to the ground, Griffin looked around at the trees.

‘If you’re out there, Harrigan, you can watch me cut your partner’s throat. Sara! Stop that racket!’

The noise got worse, a constant drumming. Suddenly, Grace felt her bonds cut through, the rope fall away and the blood run stinging into her hands. He pulled her upright. She turned swiftly. He was there with her gun.

‘Do anything and I’ll shoot you. I won’t kill you but I’ll make you hurt. Anyone out there listening-hear what I just said. You take these.’ He threw a set of keys in the dust.

She picked them up, dropped them, picked them up again and dropped them from her still stinging hands. Finally she grasped them.

‘What am I supposed to do with them?’

‘Open the hut. I want to see what’s inside and I don’t want to open it myself. No one’s going to come up behind me.’

Grace put the key in, fumbled, dropped it, picked it up, dropped it again. This time she was stalling. If Harrigan was out there, she had to give him time. With his spare hand, Griffin hit her hard across the side of her face. She fell forward, stunned.

‘Stop wasting time. Open it.’

Shaking, she got to her feet. The padlock and the chain came into focus. You could use that chain for something. It was thick and heavy. Griffin was edgy, constantly looking around behind his back, waiting for whoever might try to come up behind him out of the dark. She put the key in the padlock, unlocked it, let the chain slide to the ground with a thud. She unlocked the door. It swung inwards. Griffin grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back and then sideways. Sara came rolling out, staggered to her feet, making noises behind the handkerchief in her mouth. Griffin looked at her and laughed. He pushed Grace forward.

‘Get that handkerchief out.’

She reached and pulled it out quickly, jerking her hand back. Sara spat. There was dirt on her face and in her hair.

‘He hit me!’ she shouted.

‘Why did you open the hut?’ Griffin shouted back simultaneously.

‘Just get these ropes off me.’

Griffin pushed Grace to the ground till she lay face down in the dirt, pointing the gun at her. Sara suddenly kicked her in the stomach. She gasped but kept her eyes open. From where she lay, she could see the chain on the ground. Keep your eyes on it. Don’t let it slip away.

‘Turn around,’ Griffin said to Sara. With the knife in one hand and the gun in the other, he cut the ropes.

Sara turned and directed a few more kicks into Grace where she lay on the ground. She gasped but didn’t call out and kept her eyes open. Have a baby; be in labour for twelve hours before you’re rushed into an emergency Caesarean-it teaches you about pain.

Griffin had put the knife back in his pocket. ‘Go check his car,’ he said.

Sara sprinted up the slope to the car.

‘It’s locked,’ she called back, almost shrieking. ‘He’s out there. Just shoot her. Let’s go.’

Griffin turned towards her, away from Grace in the dirt. Grace pulled herself up on all fours, pretending to retch, edging a little away.

‘I didn’t want to just shoot her. Fuck you, why did you have to open the hut? I told you not to!’ he shouted.

Grace snatched at the chain and was on her feet. He turned and, with both hands, she smashed it across his face with all the strength she had coupled with her desperation. He fell back and she hit his hand, cracking the bone. The gun fell to the ground. Before she could reach for it, Sara was coming for her, screaming. Griffin stumbled back, shouting in pain, one hand on his face. Blood began streaming from his nose. Grace met Sara full on and knocked her back. In this grip, they twisted like mad dancers. In the melee, the gun got kicked away into the dark past the two cars. Grace thought she heard it hit something. Sara struggled like someone possessed but Grace got her on her pressure points, holding her between herself and Griffin.

‘Make her let me go. She’s hurting me,’ Sara wailed.

Griffin had his knife. He was holding it in his left hand, not his right. His mouth was open. Blood was pouring down his face and shirt.

‘Are you going to come at me with that knife?’ Grace shouted at him. ‘Or will you put it in Sara first? I think you would if you wanted to. You make her do everything else. Why not make her die for you?’