Silent - Part 7:  The Escape

Saturday, 5am Gavin

My phone is ringing again. Private Number.

I snatch the handset: 'Yes?  Hello?'

Please let this be Lucy or Maxine.  Please let this all be a joke.

Silence.

'Final warning, Gavin,' a man says, in a low but menacing voice. 'The Angel of Mercy's watching you and he's very, very angry.  Leave Maxine's flat at once. This is your very last chance.'

The line goes dead.  

Not hanging around.  

I grab the sports bag containing my clothes and coach ticket, and stuff my phone and wallet in my pockets.  Start towards the hallway.  

Freeze.

'Let me in.'  Male voice. Loud.

Banging on the front door of the flat.

My heart thunders in my chest. A person's in the building.  

More banging on the other side of the door.  

'Let me in.'

The Angel of Mercy's gained entry to the house.

Go through the back!

In the kitchen, I grope around in the dark, trying not to stumble or make any type of sound. The banging and shouting continue in the main hallway, louder now.  I spot the key in the lock, thankfully, but my hands keep shaking and I can't get a proper grip - like in one of those nightmares where you need to get away from someone but find yourself rooted to the spot.

After what seems like ages - can't be any more than a few seconds, though - I manage to twist the key. Success: I've wrenched open the door to the backyard. A blast of cold air hits me in the face. I leg it down the central path, to the wall where I scramble up and over, scraping my knees.

Jump.

Ouch!

Made it.   Just about.  

An orange-pink glimmer of sun peeps over the horizon. I'm standing in an alleyway, wincing from the impact of the jump. I look back at the house. The upstairs lights have come on, but I can't see the ground floor or Maxine's flat. The banging must have disturbed the other residents and woken them.  Whatever.  Its time to go, to get away from that madman who hammered on the door.

The text had read: GO BACK TO LONDON AND FORGET ABOUT HER OR SHE DIES AND YOU GET THE BLAME   THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF DESTRUCT IN 30 SECONDS

Ignoring the pain in my foot, I start to walk. Ahead of me lies a maze of side turnings, all identical and confusing. Trusting that the turnings will lead to safety - if not, I'm dead - I choose the nearest and limp along, keeping close to the trees in order to merge and remain invisible.  

Go faster.
      
I struggle along, trying to protect my twisted ankle. A few minutes pass, and I arrive at another leafy road with three storey-houses, like the one I've just escaped from.

Can't possibly be the same road.  I look at the road sign. No.
Different street.  

Left or right?  I take a right. After a couple of minutes, I come out at a junction on a main road.  The road's deserted.  I cross and go down another side alley, limping still, looking back occasionally to see ifs anyone's following.  

Quiet.

Heady from lack of sleep, I trawl through back streets and turnings, listening out for danger, for the Angel of Mercy.  As I walk, the Angel of Mercy's voice replays again and again. That hint of a whisper, and then the shouting as he hammered away at the door. He'd obviously planned for me to leave through the front where he would have attacked or killed me. Worse, Lucy's in trouble, possibly dead, and I don't know how to help her, other than by going to the police and telling them everything.

But somehow I don't think the police will believe me.  They have long memories.  

Another main road, busier than the first, though only slightly.  I cross, choose another side street to keep out of sight. A rough district now. I continue on along the dead end streets full of cigarette butts and empty cider cans, reaching a sprawling housing estate, similar to the one where I used to hang around in London shortly before I got into trouble with the police. (Yeah, I got into a lot of trouble when I was fifteen/sixteen, and then more trouble at Lyme House). It's a typical set up high rise blocks of flats with satellite dishes and balconies. The tower blocks and vandalised phone box by a set of railings evoke nostalgia for those days. The freedom. No demands.  No Lyme House.  No mind games and murders. Afterwards, my parents decided to send me to Lyme House in Lancashire to prevent me from getting into further trouble - and that's how I met Lucy and the other girl, but you'll hear more about that later.

I stop, tense. Footsteps, barely audible. I scan the horizon for signs of trouble.  

Nothing.

I keep on moving, hoping no one decides to jump me for my phone and wallet.  

A minute or so pass, and I stop again.  Like before, I feel as if someone's observing me, slowly catching up. An unseen person. Stalker, hunter.

I leave the estate and join another road into the centre of town.

Decision.

Get the coach back to London. Go to the police and tell them Lucy's in danger.