Jill was in no mood to undergo yet another battle with the elements. Her life-long friend had just been brutally murdered, and she'd been powerless to act against it. The pain that that brought to her was something she would never forget, could never forget. But she’d have to push it to the back of her mind if she could, for now at least.
She and Gregg needed to get away from there, and get back as soon as they could with some kind of help. And if going back outside was the only way to get that particular ball rolling, and even though she’d vowed not to go out there again, she would try her best. If not for herself and Gregg, then she’d do it for Vicky, every time.
Outside, the wind and rain hadn’t let up any, in fact, she’d swear it was worse, just because she was going back out there.
This time, Jill fared no better in getting to the patrol car than she did on her earlier outing. She was just as wet, just as cold, and just as sure as she could be that the car wouldn’t start. Her luck of late, which she’d thought was usually on the good side, was showing gaps big enough to sling a cat through.
Once she had the door open, she climbed inside and inserted the ignition key, and to her surprise, the engine started first time. Finally, she had something she could smile about, only forming that smile was something she couldn't do just now.
After slipping the lever into drive, she applied pressure to the accelerator, but other than a short lurch forward, the car remained stationary. She only needed to move it around one corner, one shitty little corner that she could spit further than, if it wasn’t so fucking windy that was.
Again she tried, and again there was very little forward movement. She pulled the keys from the ignition and climbed out to see the wheels buried above half their depth in mud and water. Now they were back to square one. She returned to the station room soaked, and feeling somewhat disappointed in her failed efforts to get them out of there. It had all been for nothing.
They were going nowhere, just yet.
‘Where’s the car?’ Gregg asked, on seeing her return.
‘It’s stuck in the mud, the grounds too soft with all this rain.’
‘And you’re sure it’s stuck fast, going back out and trying again won’t free it?’
Jill threw the keys back to the desk. ‘The ground’s too soft, Gregg. Accept it!’
‘Okay, so now we need a plan B.’
Jill started to look around the station room while Gregg came up with his “Plan B”. She studied the map of Martinsville pinned to the notice board when something in it caught her eye. She fetched it over for Gregg to look at. ‘What do you suppose this could be?’ she asked, pointing to a thin, black line.
Gregg looked at it almost dismissively. ‘Could be electricity cables, or a gas main, or even-’
‘Could it be a tunnel?’
He looked a little closer, curious as to her question. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘That Ella woman, she mentioned a tunnel to Hal just before she left.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Something like ... “If it rains before you’re done, use the tunnel.”’
Gregg realised a tunnel would be the perfect way for them to get around during a rain storm if they needed to. As soon as that thought sank in his eyes widened pushing his eyebrows under his hairline. ‘Shit!’ he said.
‘Shit? Shit as in ...?’
‘Shit, as in, that’s what that door must be, it’s not a cellar, it’s the entrance to that tunnel. I gotta close and lock it before they all get here.’
As Gregg turned to leave, Jill started to follow.
‘You can’t go in there, Jill.’
‘Well I’m not staying here on my own.’
Gregg had to admit it, if he was in her position, neither would he. ‘Okay, but when we get to Chambers, you’re waiting outside. Believe me, you don’t need to see what’s in there, trust me on that!’
‘All right, but you better hurry up.’
Jill followed Gregg to the courtroom but neither of them made it to the short hallway leading to Chambers. The clumping of boots on the wooden floor, and the sound of someone muttering incoherently to himself, held Gregg rigid.
Pulling his gun out, he ducked behind the witness box whilst flapping his free hand in a patting motion, instructing Jill to conceal herself. She’d already done that, under one of the benches.
Zach stomped down the short hallway towards the courtroom chunnering to himself about having to come looking for two of the Collective who should know better than to piss Ella off, not to mention making him use those tunnels. But when he reached for the latch on the door at the end of the hallway, he stopped. Alarm bells in his head began to ring. What he saw was the door slightly ajar and splinters of wood and a crow-bar by his feet. He moved forward, his eyes searching the courtroom in the hope he wouldn’t see anyone.
He raised his hand to the section above the door and found the key still lying there. He knew then, it wasn’t Hal who’d done this. He should to turn back and report his find, he knows he should. Only he didn’t, he stayed; he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to find out the full story, and then head back. No point going off half-cocked was there now? He crouched, picking up the crow-bar and shook it, its weight felt good, it would make a handy weapon, should the need arise.
‘Hal? You there, Hal?’ he called.
Nothing.
With his eyes still flitting left to right, Zach crept into the station room. The first thing he noticed was the sound of wind coming in through the open hatch. And then he saw Hal, and what might have been Young Billy Fisher, lying on top of him.
He followed a trail of blood leading from the adjoining cell. The blonde, the one Hal brought in earlier with the dark-haired girl, she was lying on the floor with Hal’s happy-stick sticking out from her chest. But the dark-haired one was missing, and that investigator, where the hell was he? They’d obviously done all this and escaped. He’d seen enough. He needed to report his discovery immediately.
Zach spun on one heel ready to head back into the tunnels when a gun pointing directly at him, and only inches from his forehead, stopped him dead in his tracks. The missing investigator was on the other end of it, with the dark-haired girl standing right behind him.
‘Ohhhh fuck,’ he drawled. Swallowing hard and allowing the flashlight and crow-bar to slip from his fingers.
