Jon Evans - Dark Places

Lawrence grunted as he flung the stone he held at Morgan's head. He just barely missed.

For an instant, as Morgan's flashlight fell, it illuminated Hallam against the cliff face. He reached for it but it was just too far away.

Morgan started to raise his gun towards me.

Three thoughts flashed through my head. I now held the only light; Lawrence and I, facing Morgan with a gun, would be far better off in complete darkness; and Hallam needed a light desperately. The solution was simple and obvious.

I lobbed the flashlight underhanded and dove forward onto my belly, scraping my hands hard enough to draw blood. As the light fell past the level of the trail there was another shot. I was sure that one had been meant for me.

Then the darkness was absolute.

I tried to figure out what to do next. My indecision was interrupted by a thump and a muffled grunt from ahead of us. He was struggling with Nicole. I was about to rush him when another shot rang out. For a moment I was terrified he had killed her. Then there was a light shining straight in my eyes, from above the boulder, and when I covered my eyes against the glare I saw Nicole lying doubled over in front of the boulder. She was gasping for breath but there didn't seem to be any blood. I glanced over my shoulder.

"Now you two just remain exactly where you are for the moment," Morgan said, his voice amused and casual. "Down on your bellies where you're good and harmless."

Nicole finally sucked in a long, loud breath and started to breathe normally again. She'd had the wind knocked out of her, nothing more. The third shot had been fired only to keep Lawrence and me away. I glanced at Lawrence. He was crouched, ready to spring, but it was too late. We exchanged a look and slowly followed Morgan's orders.

"Nice one, Nic," Morgan said. "Well done, fair play, all of you. Throwing that torch away, a stroke of genius, Woodsie, truly it was. It's a pity for you I was a Boy Scout. I reckon it's that fine organization's training that led me to bring another torch. Be prepared, they did tell me, time and time again. Speaking of which, sad as I am to say, it's time for you three to be prepared for one of the two great inevitables. And I reckon you all know I'm not talking about taxes."

"Fuck you," Nicole said. "Talk all you want, torture us all you want, do what you like, Morgan, it doesn't change a thing. You are fucked in the head. And you're a dead man. Hallam is going to find you and kill you."

Morgan yawned ostentatiously.

"Who do you think you are, Morgan?" I asked abruptly. We had to play for time, and I had a new game in mind. "You crazy motherfucker. You think you're the Great White Hunter, don't you? Tracking the most dangerous game? You're a sick deranged asshole, that's all you are."

"Boys," Morgan said, aiming the gun as Nicole closed her eyes, "I fear the time of your useful existence has come to its — "

"You're no better than Number Five," I said.

There was a long pause. Then Morgan said incredulously, " What did you say?"

"Number Five. The one who does the hookers in Bangkok."

There was silence for a little while and then he began to laugh. "Woodsie, Woodsie, Woodsie. For a man so stupid you can be so smart. How the fuck did you find out about that?"

"I know all about The Bull," I said. "Tracked it down from that computer you used in Tetebatu." I wished I could see him, judge from his expression whether my ploy might be working, but all I could see was the blinding orb of his flashlight, bright as the sun, and the gleam of the gun barrel.

"I cleaned that up," he said.

"Not clean enough. The Bull isn't near as secure as Number One thinks. Holes the size of Mack trucks in your security."

"Is that so. You're a marvel, Woodsie. Almost a shame to kill you. Ought to leave you alive to plug those holes. Pity it isn't practical now."

"How'd it start?" I asked. "That's what I really want to know. I know Laura was your first, but how'd it start? How did they get in touch with you? And why?

"What do you want, Woodsie, my life story?"

"If you'd be so kind as to oblige," I said.

He laughed. "You're a good sport, Woodsie. I did always like you. Playing for time, hey? Trying to extend your existence by couple of minutes by any means possible? Well, can't say as I blame you… In a nutshell then. I mean, you understand my position. I still have to kill the two of you, deal with Nicole — and I'll tell you one thing about rape and torture and evisceration, old boy, they always take longer than you expect, time flies hey? — dress the bodies with the knives, snap a few photos, and then get back to town and see what I can do about Hallam and Steve before I leave on the morning bus… what I'm trying to convey is that it's a busy night ahead and I haven't much time to spend dictating my autobiography. So. In a nutshell."

He cleared his throat and began: "Laura wasn't actually my first. Year before the truck I was in Vietnam and I did two girls there. In Saigon. A couple of whores is all. I'd brought them back to my hotel for every man's fantasy, you know, and, Christ, what happened was almost an accident, truth be spoken. If they hadn't tried to relieve my of my money belt it would never have happened. But it did happen, and you know, I felt I had a knack for it. Felt I'd found my calling, see? Various, you know, difficulties, moral confusion, repression, various psychological conundrums that I won't trouble you with, wrestled with those for the next year. And it was really Africa that brought it all back out to the surface again. All that raw primal kill-or-be-killed life all around us, see? Brought it back to the old forebrain. Three weeks into the trip I was thinking every night about killing one of you, believe that?"

"And why Laura? Well, why not? I was quite sweet on her, see? Wanted to see her die like the bitch-cunt she was, too, but the two aren't so totally incompatible as the likes of you might imagine. And at that monkey ranch in Nigeria, when the two of you were having a bit of a spat as you may recall, we had a little chat and she made it quite clear that the one was never going to happen, so I figured, why not the other, hey? And I'd been in touch with The Bull before I came. All that confusion and torment and so forth, I went hunting around on the Net, spent a fair bit of time there if truth be told, and they got in touch. So it all came together very conveniently, see? Very conveniently for me too. I was an unhappy man before, I'll tell you that. I'm sure I seemed pleasant enough, but I was desperately unhappy. But now, now I'm doing what I was born into this world to do. That's all a man needs to do to be happy. Very simple really."

He shrugged. "And that's the story, my story, that's the long and the short of it. And now, if you'll all excuse me, and even if you won't, I'm going to pursue my happiness in my own inimitable way."

He leveled the gun for the last time. He must have seen something in our expressions, for at the last moment the flashlight wavered, and he lowered the gun and began to turn. He never made it. Hallam rose up behind him like vengeance incarnate and with an animal's roar he grabbed Morgan and flung him over the edge of the cliff like a rag doll. Morgan was so surprised that he didn't even scream.

For a few seconds nobody moved. Nobody said anything. Nobody breathed.

We heard the wet crunch of impact, and that seemed to galvanize us into motion. Hallam dropped the flashlight he carried and rushed to Nicole, cradled her in his arms, tugged at her bonds with clumsy fingers, and then he gave up trying as both of them began to weep like children. Lawrence and I exchanged relieved glances and moved to stand at the edge of the gorge.

Morgan's flashlight had miraculously survived the fall, and his body had landed in its cone of light. He lay curled in a mostly fetal position, with a single arm outstreched. A pool of blood seeped and collected around him.