Peter Grist - Flashback

Linda came back from the public pay phone along the hall, looking tired and distressed, but under the circumstances, Ed thought to himself that was quite understandable, and she still looked a million dollars.

“I’ve been thinking”, she said as she approached.

“Oh dear, that sounds dangerous!”

She offered a wan smile at his attempt at humour.

“No, really, we are going to need some help with this. I think I know who and I think I know how. But I don’t want to leave Esther.”

“She seems to be in good hands now, our priority is to get your son back then finish this thing. Anyway, Esther’s husband will be here soon, right?”

“Yes, you’re right, of course, Jed is on his way, but I can’t leave her.”

“Okay”, he replied, “let’s wait a few more minutes.”

Her relief was visible although she could hardly stand still with worry for Josh and her friend. There was the occasional noise and muffled instruction from behind the closed door of the side room where Esther lay but otherwise the hospital seemed as quiet as the proverbial grave. Less than five minutes had passed before they heard the noise of a car engine hastily getting closer. They walked out of the E.R. Department doors, the ‘shush’ of the electric motors breaking the barrier between the air-conditioned and sterile environment of the hospital and the warm dry air of the summer night outside. As they stood under the yellow glow of the lights of the reception veranda the beam of headlights grew quickly larger as the car speed towards them. The mid-eighties Oldsmobile sedan hardly slowed as it took a right and turned in to the hospital grounds. It pulled up just the other side of the Jeep, the wheels barely stationary before the driver stepped out. Esther’s husband showed his years, with worry accentuating the lines on an already lined and weathered face. As he limped from the dark of night into the stark brightness of the fluorescent strip lights of the reception Ed could see that Jed had lean features and a slightly stooped posture but still looked to be about six foot tall. His eyes were still sharp and intelligent, the brightest of blues. The thinning grey hair was combed over and struggled to hide large age spots on his pate. The dark green flannel shirt stuck closely to the thin body. Linda stepped forward to meet him, converging with a huge hug. Jed pulled away and held Linda at arm’s length. “What happened, is she alright?”

“Someone came to the house; they attacked Esther and took Josh. They are looking at her right now, the doctor said she should be okay but they haven’t come back out since I called you.”

Jed let go of Linda and almost to himself whispered “Oh my god! Why? Why would they do this?” as he brushed past her and into the building, limping heavily on his left leg.

Ed and Linda watched as Jed entered the building then turned to each other.

“Now, we really have to go.” She nodded in reply, grabbed his hand and moved towards the Jeep.

Buster opened the door to his house as soon as Linda had pushed the doorbell.

“We need your help Buster.”

“C’m on inside both of you’s.”

He led them back into the living room and they all sat in the same places they had earlier. Buster leaned forward, eager to hear what they had to say but reluctant at the same time. He looked into the eyes of his visitors, trying to read their minds.

“You found her didn’t you, you found my Gracie in dem hills?” he asked in his slow drawl. Ed spoke first.

“We found someone Buster, but, well, well it wasn’t Grace, it was another little girl…… but we are sure she’s there.”

The big man almost looked relieved; his emotions clear to read on his face like the cover of a book. He glanced towards the front of the house where Linda’s car was parked.

“Did you bring them back, are they here?”

“No Buster”, he replied, “we couldn’t. They have to stay where they are for just a little longer. We need to get the killer to go back on his own, to prove it was him.”

The chair protested loudly as Buster sat back and mulled this over for a moment before he nodded in agreement. Ed glanced at Linda, then back to the big man resting in his easy chair.

“Look”, he began, “whoever did this has taken Linda’s boy Josh. We think we know where he is but we’re going to need some help getting him back.”

Buster frowned at Linda. “Whatever it takes, I’ll help. What you want me to do?”

Joshua still had the sack pulled down over his head as he was pushed roughly into the building. He hadn’t made a noise, not a whimper since his abductor forced him into the pick-up truck. The boy was dragged into a stall and thrown down onto the cement floor. He could feel a rope being threaded around his arms and wrists then tied off. The smell of horses was strong, the touch of brittle old straw in his hands evidence enough to the boy that he was in a horse barn. He could hear the huffing of the man breathing deeply as he tied off the rope then the scuffling footsteps get fainter and a large door being closed as he was left alone. Josh made no move for many minutes, just lying on his side, his arms pulled behind him. When he was sure he was alone he tried to sit up but he felt shackled to the ground. He felt around until he could feel the end of the rope and the cold circle of steel fixed to the floor. He shuffled backwards so there was a little more slack then tried again to sit up, this time successfully. Now upright, he bent his head down and shook it ferociously. Within seconds the loose hood had fallen free, landing in his lap. Josh blinked, trying to focus his eyes, but it was almost pitch black. From where he sat he could just make out the wooden sides to the stall he was manacled in. Josh knew he wasn’t close to home, he had counted the seconds of how long he had been in his abductor’s vehicle and it had added up to at least thirty minutes. He had tried to keep up with the turns they had taken but he had lost track halfway through the journey but he had heard no cars passing at all so he guessed they were further out from town. He felt afraid and wanted to go home but his analytical mind raced through how he was going to get out of this. He wondered how his favourite TV character B A Baracus from the A-Team would handle it. He guessed BA would use his mighty strength to pull out the cemented steel ring but that wasn’t an option for Josh, he needed something cleverer. After some wiggling and rotating, the boy managed to get his backside then both legs through his arms so that his hands were now bound in front of him and not behind. Lying on his stomach he could now stretch much further and with his long legs could just about reach the end of the stall with his bare feet. There was nothing there; the stall was empty except for him. He stretched further and felt with his legs up the left side of the wood. He couldn’t reach up far but he felt nothing. He shuffled over to the other side and tried again. In the darkness, he felt the slim wooden handle of a farming implement leaning against the end of the stall. He could just about feel it with his big toe. He pushed up more, balancing on his left leg and gingerly managed to knock the handle towards him with his right. The handle made a sharp knock on the concrete as it toppled down. Josh froze, listening for footsteps. After a minute of waiting and holding his breathe he slowly exhaled and began to feel with his feet for where the tool had landed. It was close. Very slowly he used his feet to bring the tool closer to him, all the while hoping it was something sharp, not just a yard brush at the other end of the handle. The end scraped along the floor in the dark, it sounded like metal. His toes finally felt something cold, flat and hard at the other end of the handle. Definitely not a brush. Once the handle was in reach of his hands it was much easier. Josh managed to drag the tool up near his head. The steel end felt like a hoe but it didn’t feel that sharp. His fingers felt along the short blade. It felt dull and rusty but it was his best chance. He waited and listened to see if anyone was coming then rotated his body around so that he had the wall to his back and the steel ring in front of him. He manoeuvred the tool around so that he could hold the handle with his feet about halfway down the shaft, putting the blade near his hands. Josh began moving his out-turned palms up and down, sawing through the rope and tape that bound him.