The Lover's Children

Chapter 128 – Autumn’s Fury – Part 20

HARKNESS

As she slips the buttons open, I knock back my drink, then pour another. My stomach rolls again.

Fuck…

She pauses in her dancing. “Are you hungry, oh, King?”

I really, really want pizza…

Why not?

Like the whore-bitch said, make an evening of it…

I point. “Gimme that.”

She frowns, looking confused. “What is it you wish, oh, King?”

“Thatsh.”

“This?” She picks up the menu holder.

“Yeah. Gimme.” She offers it out. “No, you read it.”

“Which one?”

“Pizza. I want pizza.”

She riffles through and picks out a menu. “What kind do you want?”

*****

KLEMPNER

As I’m finishing my coffee, my mobile rings.

Michael wipes away a foam moustache with the back of his hand. “Looks like Mitch is back. Or is it

Charlotte returning your call?”

“Neither. It’s come up Number Not Known…”

Hmmm…

Still, how many have my number?

Maybe one of Haswell’s cronies…

I shrug it off, tap in. “Hello?”

The female voice at the end of the line answers instantly. “Hello, I'd like to order pizza for two. To be

delivered, please.”

It sounds like Mitch. But of course, it’s not.

Odd, the games the mind plays. I’m expecting to Mitch to call me back, so it’s her voice my brain hears.

“Sorry, you’ve dialled the wrong number.”

I’m about to tap off, but the voice continues, tight and controlled. “I'd like the Four Seasons, please.

And a side salad.”

And this time, my brain kicks in. It is Mitch.

“Mitch, what's wrong? Where are you?” Michael straightens up, eyes narrowing, abruptly paying

attention.

“I'd like it delivered as soon as you can please. We're all very hungry here.”

No… Or I couldn’t answer at all…

Still, I lower my voice. “Mitch, you're in trouble? There’s someone with you, and you can't talk?”

“I’ll ask.” Her voice muffles briefly. “Did you want fries with yours?”

And in the background, a male voice. “Yeah, large portion. Might as well celebrate.”

I know that voice.

Harkness…

“Mitch, how many of you are in the room? Is it just you and him?”

“Would the large-sized pizza be enough for two…?

My breath tightening, without even thinking, I'm stampeding toward the truck, snagging keys from my

pocket as I talk, jerking my head to Michael. He trots alongside, ear cocked as I tap onto loudspeaker,

holding it between us.

Mitch continues…“…No? In that case, we’ll have two mediums and a small side of slaw.”

Michael’s eyes widen.

“So it’s you and Harkness?” I say. “Just the two of you?”

A tremor slides through Mitch’s voice. “That’s right, but you missed the small side of slaw.”

?

Fuck!

“One of the children is with you? He’s holding one of the children hostage?”

“That’s right…”

“Just one of the children? Or all of them?”

More muttering from off-side, then, “Sorry, cancel the fries. Make it spicy wedges instead. Just a single

portion.”

“Mitch, if he's armed, ask me for extra anchovies.”

“Oh, and I'd like extra anchovies on the topping...” A muffled bark in the background... “Sorry, just one

of the pizzas for the anchovies.”

“Is he armed with a knife? Or a gun?”

“No need, we can slice it up here.”

“If he's armed with a gun as well, ask him if he wants our special offer on a half-price Pepsi.”

“Let me check the address.” She mutters and a voice drawls in the background. “We’re in the Harbour

View Motel. You can leave the delivery at the reception desk.”

“Keep him talking, Mitch. Or whatever it takes. As long as you can. We’re coming.”

Fuck...

Fuck… Fuck!

*****

JAMES

My mobile buzzes. Michael.

“Hello, Michael. What can I do for…?”

The line buzzes. Another incoming call.

“Sorry, Michael, what was…”

“James, shut up and listen. The Surgeon’s got Mitch…”

My heart Bangs. A pulse of blood ricochets behind my ears. The pulse slams to the end of my fingers…

And I'm already running…

…charging for the door…

… The phone pressed to my ear… “I'm on my way, tell me.”

“I don’t have the full story yet. Mitch managed to contact Klempner, faking ordering a pizza. Harkness

has her and at least one of the children…”

“She was with Charlotte…” Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“Not answering her phone. I called Chad to go see. Told him to take anyone and everyone on hand. I’m

with Klempner now, on our way to the address Mitch gave him. I’ve already raised the alarm with

Stanton…”

“Message me that address…”

“Already on its way...”

In the fleeting moments before Michael’s message comes through, I hesitate…

Go to the house?

Help Charlotte?

No…

Whatever’s happened there has happened…

Mitch…

And as my mapping app Pings, I slam down on the gas.

Engine screaming, tires screeching, I squeal through back streets, shooting lights and swerving around

pedestrians.

Within minutes, blue lights flash behind me. Sirens howl. Headlights flash. I don't stop. I'm happy for

them to follow me. It's only a matter of time before they realise who I am and where I'm going.

The same way they'll be going.

Overhead, the Whopp!-Whopp! of helicopters, their red and white lights zooming ahead in a straight-

line flight, I have to follow by road.

*****

CHARLOTTE

With a slash of the blade, the last snagging… fucking… snagging… bramble parts. Two halves spring

away and the hatch finally lifts and clears. Scrambling up and out…

Cara and Adam?

No time…

No time…

And ignoring the squeals from the bottom of the ladder, I scramble through the nettles and briars that

have sprung up around our escape exit, cursing as they hook and snatch at clothes, ignoring them as

they catch and claw at naked skin. Breaking through to clear ground, I career past trees and shrubs,

vault the back wall of the parking lot and sprint for the main reception entrance, yelling as I go. “Call the

police. Emergency. Help! Somebody. Help!”

And there, bursting from the entrance ahead of me, Chad, half the hotel staff right behind him. “Jenny!”

“Chad!” I’m crying, screaming, gulping, trying to get the words out… “The Surgeon. He’s got Mom…”

“I know. Michael called me…”

“Michael? How…?” I grab at his shoulders and he snatches hold of me, stopping me from falling…

“Jenny, your mom, do you know how he took her?”

“I think they’re in her car. I could hear them talking… But I’ve got to go back. The other children. Cara

and Adam… I had to leave them. There was no time. I have to get back to them…”

“Where are they?”

I can’t talk through my sobs, instead, waving back uselessly towards the woods.

Chad yells at the other staff. “Go find them.”

He hauls me onto my feet. “Shush… Shush, Jenny, calm down.” He thrusts a phone into my hand. “Tell

the police what you can. We’ll follow down the mountain road. You can talk while I drive. Give them

your mom’s car details so they know what they're looking for.”

*****

MICHAEL

Oh, God…

Oh, God.

Mitch...

Charlotte too? Does he have her as well?

If he doesn’t, where is she?

And the kids?

Klempner drives. Doesn't speak. But on the wheel, his knuckles are white.

“Larry, I don't know quite how to ask this, but… how long?”

He shoots Satan’s glance sidelong. “How long what?”

“How long… do you think Mitch could keep a man entertained by… usual means… before he got bored

and tried for more?”

“Usual means?” He says nothing for long seconds, then, “Several hours if he had it in him. All fucking

night. But this bastard’s not interested in usual means.”

Does he…?

Would he…?

“Larry, you do realize Mitch has only done this to save Charlotte and the kids? You wouldn't hold it

against her afterwards?”

“Afterwards?” He spits the word. “You fucking kidding? Mitch was a hooker. She's fucked a thousand

men. It doesn't matter. She married me. We have to see to it there is an afterwards.”

*****

Zig-zagging narrow lanes at breakneck speed, Klempner sheers around a bend onto the wrong side of

the road then, to the shriek of an on-coming horn, lurches back to the right side, barely missing another

vehicle. Gripping my seat with one hand against being flung sidelong, phone gripped between my

knees, I tap into my mapping app. “What’s this address again?”

“The Mountain Prospect motel. You know it?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell…” Scissoring open the screen, I zoom in on our destination.

“How far?”

“Around the base of the mountain, then ten minutes in the Barnbridge direction.”

Klempner steps on the gas. A vehicle pulling out of a drive ahead of us hastily reverses as we

accelerate into a straight stretch, hurtling past a huddle of buildings. His foot flat to the floor, slamming

into high gear, the engine screams. “Where are we compared to where the police are likely to be?”

“If they’re coming from City Central, we’re closer than they are.”

*****

“Pull over.”

Klempner’s face swivels like his head’s on castors. “What?”

“I said, pull over. Right there…” I point.

“What the hell fo…? Ah…” He clucks, pulling in by the pizza takeaway. “Be quick.”

I’m already swinging out of the car. “Keep the engine running.” Sprinting across the road, I charge up to

some kid coming out with a stack of flat boxes in his hand, already chewing at a triangle of pizza. “I’ll

give you fifty for what you have there.”

He gawps. “Yer what?”

“You just paid, what? Twenty? I’ll give you fifty. But you give me those boxes. Right now.”

“You kidding?”

“No, I'm serious. Fifty. But now.”

Her face screws up in suspicion at the money. “How’d I know it’s not fake?”

Grabbing him by the elbow, I spin him back inside, waving the note at the goggling server. “You. Pass

that under your scanner. Quickly.”

Her mouth falls slack, but shaking her head slightly, she takes the note, passes it briefly under the

counter, then nods. “Yup. It’s genuine.”

“So give me those boxes. Now.”

“Hundred.”

“What?!?”

“You’re ready to pay fifty. You’re in a big hurry. It’ll cost you a hundred.”

Snarling, I snatch whatever’s in my wallet, pushing it into his sticky waiting hand. Grinning, he stuffs it

in his pocket and shoves the boxes at me. As I stride out, his words drift behind me. “Complete fucking

weirdo. I'll have the same again.”

The engine’s roaring before I even close the door, tires screeching as Klempner turns one hand over

the other, steering the car back into the stream of traffic. “I checked my mapping app while you were in

there. Six minutes arrival time.”

“We’ll be there before the police then unless they happen to have a patrol car nearby.”

His lips press flat as he weaves past a pick-up truck, then undertakes a motorcycle.

“We go straight in?” I ask.

“What the fuck d’you think?”

*****