Backwards Into Hell

Part Four: Or Do They?

Jake's Diary

Sunday 31st October

'Good Afternoon, Jake,' she began. She was a stern woman wearing a dark suit, a dark hijab, and dark eyeliner. 'I'm DI Sumra, and this is DS Carlton.'

As I shifted in the sharp plastic chair, I reflected on how strange it was to see new faces, the ordinary world. In some ways, it was a relief, but in others, it just highlighted my failure.

There was no way I was getting Rachel back now.

Sumra switched on the tape—an old VHS sort of thing—and went through the procedures.

'The date is the thirty-first of October, and the time is three-forty-five. This is Detective Inspector Sumra with Detective Sergeant Carlton.'

Her dark eyes flicked to me.

'Please state your name and date of birth.'

I did.

'Do you agree there are no other persons present?'

I nodded.

'For the tape.'

I leaned forward. 'Yes.'

She went through a few more preliminary questions, settling the papers in the large brown folder on the table.

Finally, she began.

'I'd like to ask you about the first night at The Lodge—what happened, exactly?'

I'd had a chance to come up with my cover-story earlier, having spent several hours in the most uncomfortable grey cell known to man. Regardless, there were holes. How did I explain the small misdemeanour of trying to kill that little boy?

It would have to be a really good story.

'Well,' I sighed, dragging out the word, 'there was this group of men—dressed in black—and they broke in that first night.' I made my hands shiver. 'Took us from our beds.'

Sumra furrowed her brows. Did she believe me? I'd have to add more detail.

'Where did these men take you?'

'I don't know. They put bags over our heads.'

'Okay.' She put her elbows on the table, and I wondered what it would be like to murder her, too. 'So why do you think they kidnapped you?'

'One of us had money.' I shrugged. 'They didn't know who, so they took us all.'

'Do you know who had the money?'

I shook my head. 'We were separated—didn't see much of the others.'

'Right.'

Sumra scribbled something in the folder, but I could no longer hear her thoughts—she was just a blank, boring wall.

What was she thinking?

'Can I add something?'

'Of course.'

'I don't want to point the finger,' I said, leaning forward slightly. 'But I think one of the guests was working with them. David.'

'Why do you think that?'

'I saw him sometimes, untied. His kid too.'

That was the discrepancy between mine and the kid's story explained.

'Did you get a look at any of these other kidnappers?'

'One. I think he was the leader.'

'Could you describe him for me?'

I proceeded to give her a description of The Old Man as I'd just seen him in his smart suit and slicked-back hair. No staff.

When I'd finished, the door shuddered as a middle-aged man with an unkempt suit and balding brown hair burst into the room. Sumra sighed as he came to stand next to me.

'Saul, I'm glad you could join us,' she said in vicious monotone.

He had his own folder—huge and black—and dumped it on the table. 'I'd like some time with my client.'

The officers took their time to leave, and once they were gone, Saul fell into the chair next to me. He was a strange-looking man, I noted, with a bird-like face and hawk eyes.

But he was no idiot.

'What have you told them?'

'Not much. I just answered their questions.'

'Right, right.' He searched in his bag, a satchel, for a notepad. Not finding it, Saul gave up.

'I thought I had to ask for an attorney.'

'Normally, yes, but someone saw fit to arrange one for you.'

'Who?'

'They didn't give a name.' Finding a pen and pulling out a blank piece of paper from his folder, Saul sat poised to take notes. 'Listen, you can't say anything else today. I talk to you later, get your story water-tight.'

I nodded. This was good. 

***

A little while later, I was in my cell.

The bed was little more than a ridge under the far wall, and the rest of the room was empty apart from the colossal grey door that watched over me. I kept staring at it, wishing I still had the strength to knock it from its hinges.

I looked away, and as I watched the blank ceiling and felt every muscle ache on the solid 'bed', someone cleared their throat.

I knew who it was.

I didn't sit up.

'Jake.' He was at the end of my bed.

'Leave me alone.'

The Man had betrayed me. How was I meant to succeed if he was working against me the entire time? I wasn't stupid—Caleb couldn't have escaped that fire alone.

'I know you're not too happy with me.'

I scoffed.

'But, taking your... potential, into account, I'd like to give you a second chance.'

Now I sat up. But I didn't trust him yet and eyed him blankly.

'If you're up for it, I'll give you one more try to finish your end of the deal.'

A sudden rush came through me—my legs, my arms, my chest. Everything filled with energy.

'The kid?'

'Yes.'

I breathed raggedly. 'I'll do it.'

'Just like that? No questions asked?'

'No questions asked.'

With a grin, The Man snapped his fingers.