*WARNING: This is a tie-in story to my novel ‘Ghost Train’ and will serve you best as a companion story to that novel; however, in terms of timeline it is set two decades before the events of the novel. This story and the novel share only a couple of common characters. Therefore, I have been able to keep ‘The Constable’ spoiler-free for those who haven’t read ‘Ghost Train’ so that this story will serve as more of a taster than a spoiler for those simply looking for a quick dose of horror!*
Before the Ghost Train lured unsuspecting thrill-seekers to captivity in the forest, before the Clown tortured and slaughtered the captives, long before, there was the Constable. A tall and ambitious officer of the law who harbours a dark and corrupt side rooted within him. Deep inside the trees of Wald Forest, he draws a group of local youths into his sadistic game of ‘hide and seek’…
As with ‘The Clown’, I saw another opportunity to expand upon the characters and storylines introduced in my novel ‘Ghost Train’. I said that I wrote that story because I know many people are particularly afraid of clowns; the same can be said of the police. I always discuss the influences on my work: from my favourite author Stephen King to my favourite director Alfred Hitchcock, whose quote I use at the start of ‘Ghost Train’. One of Hitchcock’s anecdotes about being scared of the police also served as an influence on my novel, and now this story (give it a Google!). This story is intended to mirror ‘The Clown’, so again I’ll move away from the usual clichés and attempt to play with a new formula. Hitchcock said in an interview that whenever he saw the police or heard a police car, even in adulthood, he would feel “mild apprehension”. What do you feel?
The Constable
By Keelan Berry
The red meat touched his tongue, and his teeth clamped down, juices spurting out into his mouth.
“Got those hot dogs on that grill,” One of the members of the garden gathering said (it was one of the large ladies – although that description would suit pretty much all of the ladies here), looking lustfully at the barbeque. Jacob looked over, still chewing on his burger, and saw his Dad smiling, but obliging the request. “This barbeque was a fan-ta-stic idea!” The woman exclaimed. Jacob knew her face but couldn’t remember her name. His street, and even parts of those surrounding it, were a tight-knit community. Even if you didn’t know names, you assumed friendship and acted as such.
“Heard anything from the Jackson family?” The large, hot-dog-loving lady’s husband asked Jacob’s parents. “After… you know.”
The garden suddenly fell silent and everyone turned towards his parents.
“Not much,” His Dad, keeping the hot dogs rolling on the grill, replied. “We invited them, but…” He shrugged a shoulder, “I can’t imagine what they’re going through. Must be even worse given, you know, their boy.”
Some of the garden gathering nodded in sympathy.
Jacob looked over to Ava, his younger sister, who had brought her boyfriend Rhys and his parents to the gathering. The Jackson girl had been Jacob’s age – they’d been all through school together – and then she turns up dead in Wald Forest the summer after their last year. Her brother, ‘their (the Jackson’s) boy’, was much younger than Ava. But it was still a terrible thing to imagine, and obviously even worse to have to go through.
Jacob found himself also shaking his head.
Ava and Rhys were only two years younger than he and the Jackson girl (this just seemed to be what she was known as now; to call her by name would be to conjure up her vengeful spirt, apparently; that’s just black families for you, Jacob thought to himself, the most superstitious of all), but they felt the effects of her murder just the same. The whole community did. And what made it worse, as all the parents were now discussing openly, was the police’s apparent lack of interest in trying to find out what had happened and who the killer was.
Okay, Tornwich had its gang problems, especially in this area of the city – Jacob knew he lived in a shithole, but that was okay, it was his shithole, their shithole. But the Jackson girl wasn’t involved in any of that, nor was her family. They were too nice, too friendly, probably the nicest and friendliest of the lot. For this to happen to them was a random, inexplicable tragedy, and that made the whole thing even worse.
The parents had now descended into a shout-fest about the Southumberland Constabulary, each couple getting louder and louder, trying to get their own complaints across to the other parents. Jacob looked over to him Mom, sat in a plastic garden chair, whose mouth seemed to be on fast-forward. There was some shouting – the quietest voices – which was saying the police simply didn’t care about people like them, other voices claiming there was some sort of cover-up in progress, and the loudest voices which were screaming in full and knowing confidence, in a way that said you’re not ever going to change my mind, I know it for a fact, that the police themselves had committed the murder, and that the rest of them were going to be slowly picked off one by one, family by family.
Jacob continued his scan of the garden, finally reaching Rhys and Ava, who were also looking at him. He cocked his head towards the garden gate, and Ava’s eyes nodded; Rhys had already left her side. They exited the garden through the open gate, the volume of the parents’ continuing to grow louder but the words becoming inaudible, as though several people were turning the volume on their radios up at the same time.
The three of them continued to walk a little further down the street, until the sound of the voices became a faint murmur in the background; as though it was simply the friendly social gathering it was supposed to be in the first place.
Jacob put his lips together and blew through them, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
*
He walked out of the doors of the police station and out to the setting sun, the silhouette of hundreds of trees against it, as though they were burning. Eyes watched him, as they always did.
That was okay. He was tall. People noticed a tall man. They noticed a tall man even more when he was wearing the uniform of a police constable.
Talk of the dead black girl was starting to die down at the station, and on the one hand that was good: why should they be investigating the murder of someone so insignificant, whose family probably should have never come to this country in the first place, whose community occupied the filthiest parts of the city like vermin? He had played his part in getting them to slowly and quietly shut the investigation down, but he didn’t have to do much: for them to do it, they had to share his sentiments already.
He’d left the police station, but his work wasn’t over. The murder of the black girl and the uninterest of the Constabulary in the case had provided him with the perfect opportunity: now he could start to target their community himself. Stoke tensions further. Perhaps even take a few out himself.
He got into his police car. His helmet was low on his head, keeping his forehead concealed and shadowing much of the rest of his face. He smiled into the rear-view mirror and started the car. Now wasn’t the time to go home, there was work to be done.
He drove slowly, trying to keep as close to Wald Forest as the roads would allow him. The area surrounding the police station was alluring and welcoming; the sort of place he was going to live someday soon, as soon as the promotions started to come his way.
That wouldn’t be too long; he’d made plenty of friends already, hence being able to keep the police car even when he was off-duty.
But it wasn’t long until the colourful apartment buildings and the large houses gave way to blocks of flats and small, terraced housing that looked like they’d been victim to a war: broken-bricked buildings lined along cracked roads, litter-strewn streets. The whole place looked like it was crumbling apart and was going to be sucked into the Earth itself.
He rolled his window down slightly, the polluted, rancid air creeping its way in through the small crack. He wrinkled his nose. He could hear loud, excited voices that also made their way into the car. A chorus of laughter and loud chattering, all the words indiscernible. He rolled his eyes, the anger and hate rising from his chest, thick and hot, into his throat. A hand slipped off the steering wheel and went to his handcuffs, which helped to comfort him.
The smell of meat replaced the foul stench of rubbish that hasn’t been collected for weeks, and he smiled again. They were having a party. So soon after the murder they were having a party. A loud party. He could take care of that. He caressed the handcuffs. Go and ‘have a word’, scare them, force them into their homes. Keep them scared and isolated. A perfect start to his work in the aftermath of the local tragedy.
He slowed the car, waiting for the voices to get louder.
Then he saw three figures walking down the street, and his hand went to his baton instead.
*
Ava had been with Rhys pretty much since they’d started school together, and Jacob got on well with them both. He didn’t have a girl himself, but he never felt like he was a third wheel with them; they’d always hang out with each other, especially when they needed to get away from the parents when they went off on one of their shouting, but still perfectly civil, conversations.
Sometimes it was amusing, sometimes they would all find themselves joining in if the topic of shouting was interesting enough, but mostly it was just headache-inducing. Jacob didn’t know how they all did it, but he did also wonder if he, Ava and Rhys would become like them eventually.
This time round, Jacob supposed that the three of them had sneaked off because the topic of shouting was a scary one. Someone they had all known had been murdered inside Wald Forest and nobody outside of their community seemed to care.
“Police car back there, Jacob.” He heard his sister say. Her head was turned and looking back from the way they’d come, Rhys turned his head too.
Jacob looked, and saw the police car was just outside his house. “Shit,” He breathed.
“Noise?” Ava asked.
“Who’s going to complain about the noise?” He asked, “Everyone who lives on this street is in the back garden!” He managed a humourful grin.
“Well… you know…” She was still looking at the police car apprehensively, “Maybe they’ve just decided to… pick on us.”
Jacob swallowed and made no reply, because he didn’t know what to believe anymore. The police didn’t care about the murder, but were they so narrow-minded in their hatred that they were now going to pick on the community after that tragedy? Jacob didn’t think that; there’s no way they could get away with doing something like that.
Instead, he thought they were probably just checking on the local area, doing patrols or had perhaps been to check on the Jacksons. They might not care about the murder, but surely they had to be making some effort, however minimal, to make it look as though they cared about what had happened?
“Just patrols,” Jacob tried to explain, “With what happened we’ll probably be seeing a lot more of them around.”
“But they don’t care.” Ava stated, clearly having taken to heart what the parents had been shouting about.
“They might not care, but they won’t want it to happen again,” Jacob replied, “Because sooner or later they’d have to start caring and then it would give them too much of a headache.”
Rhys nodded, “He’s right.” He squeezed Ava’s hand, “They need to look like they’re doing something, at least.” He voiced Jacob’s thoughts.
Red and blue suddenly lit up the pavement and the road ahead of them, but no sirens came with it. Jacob moved around Ava and Rhys instinctively, so that he was closer to the pavement. He continued to walk, but slowly, waiting for the car to pull up alongside him.
When it did, he stopped walking and faced the car. The window rolled down and a thin, shadow-covered face looked back, giving the illusion that the constable’s helmet’s shiny badge was like an eye looking at them all by itself. A voice, low and deep, carried out of darkness. “It’s getting late, it’s getting dark.” The voice stated, “Isn’t it a bit dangerous to be out and about?” The voice asked, “Kids,” It emphasised the word, “With what’s happened here recently…” The helmet moved from side to side.
“We’re together, sir.” Jacob replied, his voice steady, “Just like the advice says.” He pointed down the road, “Our house is only down there.”
The policeman sniffed, sneered, and then sighed, “Party going on, is there?”
“Just a garden gathering, sir. Barbeque.”
“Hm.” He appeared to consider this, then looked away through the passenger window. Behind a couple of rows of houses, the trees of Wald Forest loomed. “You should get home.” He said, “We don’t know how safe it is. I’ll be keeping up patrols.” He looked back to them, head closer to the window, his face slightly more visible. Pupils flitted between the three of them. It seemed as though he was going to add something else; it felt right that he should add something else. But his head simply retreated into the car, the window rolling up, like a serpent slithering back into its underground den, not quite ready to strike yet. The car rolled away slowly.
“You think he was going to bust them if we said it was a party?” Rhys questioned, his voice was slightly strained, slightly high; it was mild panic, Jacob recognised.
“Nah.” He shook his head, “They just don’t understand us. He can’t get it, why we’d all be getting together so soon after a tragedy. People are used to barricading themselves in their homes.”
“He doesn’t seem in a hurry to get away.” Ava said, her voice had the same panicked strain to it that Rhys’ had.
Jacob looked after the police car, which had rolled only a couple of yards down the road.
He was pretty sure that if it wasn’t so dark, and if police car windows were easier to see through, he’d see that shiny police badge staring back at him through one of the mirrors.
*
Jacob forgot about the incident with the policeman for the next few days.
In the moment, it hadn’t been scary for him; he knew Ava and Rhys didn’t feel the same, however. But that was understandable, especially with the way the parents had been talking in the garden about the police only moments before. Besides, the policeman hadn’t seemed aggressive, a little cold, okay, but they had to maintain a serious tone given what had happened, didn’t they?
In the kitchen a few days later, Jacob was doing the washing up (Rhys’ parents had come over, and they’d all had a smaller than usual gathering, but one that still included the inevitable shout-fest, albeit this time about something other than the incompetence of the local police, thankfully), watching the last rays of the sun be consumed by the tall trees of the forest.
As the rays slowly blacked out, though, Jacob saw another light shining amongst the trees. A light that was almost rotating: red, blue, red, blue, red, blue. He moved his head closer to the window, but could hear no sirens.
He looked again, squinted at the trees, trying to distinguish the light. All he could think was it’s happened again, Jesus Christ it’s happened again, and he wanted to call out to his parents and Ava, get them gathered around the kitchen window with him so they could all speculate about what was going on, and perhaps make some phone calls to friends who lived nearer to the forest to get the word on what was going on.
He dried his hands quickly, the washing still not done, and went out the kitchen door into the back garden. He moved a plastic garden chair up the back of the fence and stood on it, peering over it and across the rows of houses to look at the trees. They were almost in total blackness, and what Jacob had been certain were the red and blue rays of a police car siren were gone.
In the moment, that had been scary, he was certain that another tragedy had struck; perhaps the same killer striking again, or a copycat inspired by the killing and intent on wreaking more terror upon their community.
He turned around and entered the house, still mildly apprehensive, but was greeted by Rhys and Ava, who were pleased at yet another successful evening with both of their families in one room.
And, almost instantly, he forgot the whole thing.
*
Ava closed the front door gently, then locked it slowly and as quietly as the old, creaky lock would allow. She turned around and faced the stars. The street was dark, and the stars would guide her (street lamps were sparse in this neighbourhood). She almost tip-toed down the path, not wanting anyone who might be stirring inside the house from her movements in there to now hear her creeping away outside.
When she was off the front garden, she transitioned smoothly into a brisk walk and started towards Rhys’ house. Although their families were close and approving of them being together, they hadn’t been allowed to sleep over at each other’s houses yet. They were too young for whatever activities such an event might lead to… well, they were too young, but that still didn’t stop them. They did all the right things, protection-wise, so what was the harm?
Somewhere in the distance, the engine of a car roared into action, and she stopped walking, her breath cutting at her throat so sharply that she almost choked, her heart thudding hard into her ribs. She looked around, but the vehicle must have been a few streets away. There was no sign of it, and the sound had disappeared as suddenly as it had pierced through the night air.
She composed herself and then started walking again. Rhys’ was not far, she’d be there soon. Just down the road a little further and then-
A car. Again. Quieter this time, but closer. It was not an engine starting, but the low hum of one as it crept slowly along the road. She didn’t have to stop and look around this time; she knew the car was behind her, on the same road, but she looked anyway. It was further than she expected, only a dark shadow far down the road (it didn’t have its headlights on).
Okay. Breathe. If it keeps at that pace, and I walk a little faster – Jesus, even if I walked at my regular pace – I’ll be at Rhys’ before that can reach me, and certainly before anyone can get out of it and try and grab me. She shook her head quickly, as though trying to shake the thoughts out of her mind. She never usually got spooked on her way to Rhys’ – and she’d had black cats staring at her from behind cars on many nights she’d made the journey.
She started walking again, but suddenly her feet were heavy, as though she’d walked through cement that was now solidifying. She half-turned, unable to keep her eyes off the car, because if she looked at it then it couldn’t sneak up on her, could it?
Headlights suddenly beamed out at her and she had to shield her eyes.
Nope, couldn’t sneak up on her, but it could-
-the engine roared again, and the car remained still for a moment, roaring as though it was trying to pull itself up a steep hill. Then it came forward. The wheels screeched across the road as the car was catapulted forwards, the lights blinding her, the heavy metal of the car clanking. Now, in her mind, it was no longer a car. It was a monster; the monster you always imagine when you go into the kitchen at night for a drink, the monster that’s lurking in the darkness, just waiting for you to turn your back so it can bound towards you and chase you back into the bedroom.
The wheels screeched closer.
And a hand touched her shoulder.
*
“Where the hell are you going?” Jacob pulled her away from the road and towards him, his voice barely audible over the screeching tires and the roaring engine.
She looked from the car to his angered, concerned face for a moment, “I-” was all she could manager, her mind was in overload. She looked back to the car, which came to a screeching halt beside them.
Jacob suddenly turned her around and put an arm around her, holding her behind him slightly. They both studied the car: POLICE written across the side of it, before it started again, roaring as it had before, tires screeching again. It sped down the road, took a sharp right, and continued. Its red and blue lights suddenly started bouncing off the rooftops of houses, bizarrely misplaced without the accompanying sirens.
“I-” She tried again, but she was breathless despite having been stood completely still for the last few moments. She sucked in a shaky breath and squeezed it out while Jacob turned to face her, his hands planted on her shoulders. She couldn’t look at him when she said, “I was going to Rhys’.”
His fingers loosened for a moment, in what? Shock? Disgust? She could have screamed a hundred things at him in that moment: not to tell their parents, not to blame Rhys, not to judge them, they were being safe, they could do what they wanted, he’d done it, why couldn’t she?-
-but of course, when so many things filter through the brain and try to reach the lips, they get trapped and can’t find their way out.
“Okay.” He nodded, “Then let’s go there together.” He said, taking her hand and pulling her.
“What? Jacob? No! I-please-why?” He’s going to cause a family war. Oh God, oh God. As if the community isn’t on edge as it is, and now he’s going to give Rhys a beating in front of his own parents and oh God, oh God.
He stopped and took her by the shoulders again, “I don’t care about whatever it is you two are getting up to, Ava, chill!” He shook her a little, but she relaxed, her muscles suddenly loosening and her body becoming almost limp. “We need to follow that car. The three of us.”
The car – the monster in the shadows – which she had narrowly escaped. “Why?” She breathed, almost squeaked, her feet still heavy and unmoving. Jacob had started charging away, but now came back, but seemed unable to keep still and he paced.
Ava was aware a light had been turned on in a house across the road in reaction to the car’s antics.
“Things I’ve been noticing over the last few weeks,” He started, turning around to watch the red and blue lights of the police car move towards the trees of Wald Forest, “I didn’t think anything of it then. That policeman the other day who spoke to the three of us,” He reminded her, “A few days after that I saw those lights,” He pointed to the slow-moving red and blue, “near the forest. I didn’t think anything of it again, I just forgot about it.” He looked down at the floor in deep thought for a moment and then looked back up at her, “Now this.” He said in a low voice. “He’s stalking us.”
“So…” She said, but couldn’t finish.
He finished for her, nodding: “Our parents were right. For once.”
*
Rhys came easily enough after his initial confusion, shock and attempt at acting casual at seeing Jacob approach the house with Ava. Jacob told him to “just come down”, and Ava assured him that all was okay and that they’d discovered something.
He came outside sheepishly, clearly still suspecting he was in some sort of trouble. Jacob bumped fists with him, and Rhys did so cautiously, but then seemed to relax after the greeting was over.
“What’s going on?” He’d asked, and as they walked towards Wald Forest – red and blue lights beckoning them – they explained everything to him. Ava started with her story of coming over that night and the monster-car she’d encountered, and then Jacob jumped in with the things he’d been noticing over the past few days. They’d all been through the experience of being spoken to by that shadow-faced policeman, only Rhys had seen the lights in Wald Forest a few days later, and only Ava had been assaulted by a police car. They asked Rhys if anything had happened to him, and he said it hadn’t, although he’d heard his parents talking about the new local gossip: the increased police presence in the forest. Tape going up around the trees, lights flashing like Jacob had described.
Together, their stories drove them to the forest: how could they ignore all the signs when placed together?
Now, they stood across the road from the forest. The police lights had moved deeper inside; their was still no sound of sirens, and there was not even the sound of an engine running. It was like the silently beating heart of the woods.
Jacob saw what Rhys’ parents had meant by the police tape: it was everywhere. It stretched across the outer perimeter of trees as far as he could see, and areas were sectioned off inside the trees: small squares, large rectangles, circular clearings.
“What the fuck?” Rhys voiced.
“Jacob…” Ava, as she had been all night, struggled to say whatever it was she wanted to say. However, Jacob could tell from the tone of her voice what it was: this looks scary, let’s go home and just report it, not deal with it ourselves, okay?
“If what is going on here is official,” Jacob replied to her unvoiced concerns, “Then we have a right to know, init?” He looked to Rhys for confirmation, whose shrug said yeah, I suppose so, “So we’re not doing anything wrong, and we won’t be in any danger.”
“And if it’s not?” Ava asked, the words coming out rapidly, as though she forced them out, knowing that if she didn’t and lingered on the thought for more than a moment, she wouldn’t have been able to ask.
Jacob shrugged, “We get in and get out. Report it.”
“And if they don’t want us to get out?”
Jacob thought for a moment, then started walking forwards, “Come on.” He said, “Find a big stick, or something.”
He walked across the road and up to the police tape. He considered it for a moment, grabbed it in his hand, and pulled it upwards so he could climb underneath. The red and blue lights seemed to be quite far inside the forest; he could see the lights slashing across the thick trunks of the trees, but could not see the source of the light itself.
*
They were here too soon.
But that was okay, he could make it work.
*
He turned around, Rhys and Ava appeared to be in discussions across the road. Ava remained reluctant, her body language – the legs crossed, hands crossed, body half-turned – showed that she wanted nothing to do with the forest, while Rhys seemed to be reasoning with her to follow, hands motioning frantically up and down while he spoke.
From behind, there was three rapid crunches and a snap!, a twig being broken in two. Jacob’s mind told him to run back across the street, but his body did something different; the two not working in unison. His body started to turn, but it was already too late. A large, forceful hand shoved his head forward, and he started to fall. He heard Ava let off a sound – not a scream, more of a strangled squeak, followed by a metallic click and something cold closing tightly around his wrist.
Before his head hit the floor, it was yanked backwards, and he was suddenly on his back, legs kicking against the dirt as he was pulled away. He glanced up at his hand, saw it was handcuffed to an enormous fist that was dragging him, and then looked back to Ava and Rhys.
Ava’s fear had shattered, apparently; she was running across the road now, Rhys trying to catch up with her.
Jacob felt and heard his shoulder click – similarly to how the handcuffs had clicked – as he was yanked again, this time off to the side. Ava and Rhys disappeared from view and the forest descended entirely into blackness. At the speed he was being pulled, and at the pace he had seen Ava moving, she should have caught up with them by now, Rhys close behind. But Rhys had either caught up with her and stopped her, or the forest had suddenly become a black, directionless maze when Jacob had been pulled away.
Jacob closed his eyes, trying not to think about where he was going to be taken or what was going to happen to him. But there was nothing else to focus on; even if his eyes weren’t closed, it was only blackness all around him. So he focused on the pain: the pain of the metal cutting into his skin, the pain of twigs and stones raking against his back. He even tried to push himself harder into the ground, which both slowed the process and made it more painful.
That was okay, though. It allowed his mind to drift to the pain, and it allotted Rhys and Ava more time to execute whatever it was they were planning (for surely they must be up to something; they wouldn’t just leave him, would they?).
Finally the dragging ceased, and the cuts and scraps that had been inflicted on the short journey suddenly flared. Jacob could see the red and blue lights even before he opened his eyes. The other end of the handcuff clicked onto something and the figure who had been dragging Jacob stood before him.
The lone, shiny eye of the constable’s helmet stared at him. But now there were more eyes: all over the policeman’s uniform. Small, beady glints of silver in the night, all delighting in his suffering, all hungry for more.
Was this what happened to the Jackson girl? Was what his mind asked as the baton rose in front of him, ready to club him to death.
And then the large eye of the helmet closed. It can’t close. So that meant… Jacob heard the clunk of the helmet as it fell onto the hard ground of the forest, his eyes followed it, and he saw a large rock roll next to it.
Jacob looked back to the constable, his slicked-back black hair now visible. His face was long and smooth, his eyes still dark, and yet bright blue shone from within the black holes – like the blue of the police siren.
The constable was now holding his baton like a sword in front of him. The blue searchlights of his eyes scanning the forest.
Another rock flew through the air and crashed softly into his black police jacket. He appeared not to even notice it had hit him. He moved forwards slightly. Jacob noticed that the whole area around the police car was cordoned off with more police tape in a perfect square.
While the policeman was distracted, Jacob looked up at his wrist and saw it was cuffed to a thick branch. He tried to slide his arm forward but it was brought to a halt by more thick branches that stemmed off their host branch.
He managed to get to his knees so that he could follow the progress of the policeman, who had somehow disappeared from view in the few seconds Jacob had spent examining his entrapment.
In the very instant he realised that the giant constable was beside him, the baton swung into his abdomen, and he fell down again. He needed to grunt, to cry out in pain, but there was nothing to come out. It was like he was a balloon and had been stamped on; there was no air left inside him.
He stared up at the policeman, whose head seemed to be up there with the treetops.
His leg rose and the bottom of his boot came into view. Jacob knew that boot was bigger than his head. All that would be left after one stomp would be a splatter of his brains.
There was a scream off to the side; not the terror-filled scream of someone about to watch another human being have their brains kicked from of their skull, but the battle-cry of someone who was about to stop that very thing from happening.
Jacob looked and saw Rhys charging forwards, brandishing what must have been a metre-long, pole-thick branch above his head. He managed to leap over the police tap, land securely on his feet, and continue his charge. Meanwhile, another rock was thrown – this one with more force than the last – and again thudded into the policeman’s black jacket. This time his shoulder flinched from the impact, but Jacob suspected the true purpose of the rocks had been distraction, and if it was the plan succeeded, because the constable had barely lifted his baton when Rhys brought the branch crashing down on the man’s head.
There was a crunch which could have been bones collapsing or the branch crumbling, either way the policeman’s neck seemed to collapse into his body, and a moment later he was stumbling backwards.
Rhys quickly turned his attention to Jacob, and started breaking branches off the big branch to which he was handcuffed.
He started to pull Jacob’s arm forward, ready to slip it off the branch and for them all to run to safety, when the baton crashed into the branch and snapped it. Jacob’s arm fell suddenly enough for his whole body to collapse to the ground again.
All he could do was watch as Rhys – the small, teenage boyfriend of his sister – struggled against the gigantic policeman.
The constable had him by the throat with one hand, and was lifting him off the floor. Rhys was flapping and gasping like a fish pulled out of its tank. The constable lifted his baton with the other hand, while at the same time Rhys was struggling to keep hold of his weaponised tree branch.
Jacob saw opportunity, and with the idea came the energy to perform it, and he suddenly shot to his knees, tugged the branch from Rhys’ grasp, took a firm hold of it in his two hands and drove it into the policeman’s shin.
The leg collapsed from underneath him and he went down to one knee, at the same time throwing Rhys from his grip and slamming him down on top of Jacob. His wind was sucked out of him again and he felt his hand release the tree branch.
He kept his gaze on the policeman, whose hair had come loose and was hanging down around his head. Blood was trickling slowly down his forehead from the earlier strike he had suffered.
His ice-blue gaze did not falter, though. The eyes were staring widely and wildly at the two boys in front of him. He made his way back to his feet, and used his good foot to kick Rhys away, as though he was a football.
The constable holstered his baton on his belt and loomed above Jacob, seemingly considering what to do with him. His torchlight eyes moved to his hand, and seemed to bulge in realisation. Jacob realised too: he couldn’t leave the handcuffs on him. He bent down, and Jacob tried to lift himself to kick out at the tall man, but his legs were swatted away with ease; an insectile annoyance.
He stretched Jacob’s arm out straight and then quickly stamped on it. Jacob cried out, but his scream was cut off when his hand was stamped on again. This time, he felt bones crunching and snapping. His mouth opened and he let out a long whimper of agony. The policeman slid the handcuffs off his hand with ease and placed those back on his belt too.
He reached over Jacob and picked Rhys up, holding him under his arms, and slammed him into a tree trunk. He held him there with one hand placed on his chest, reached to his belt and removed the handcuffs. He raised one side of the handcuffs, and Jacob realised what he was going to do – he wasn’t going to cuff Rhys to anything as he’d done to Jacob, he was going to drive the sharp end of the cuff into Rhys’ eye.
The constable aimed, and his hand drew back, when Ava suddenly leaped over Jacob, flying through the air like an Olympic athlete. In her hand was a rock the size of the constable’s fist, and she flew into him, driving the rock down on the back of his head. They fell down together, Ava landing on top of him.
Rhys slid down the tree slowly, almost like a delayed action, and Jacob saw that when the constable had slammed him into the tree it had made an indent big enough for someone to perch themselves on.
Jacob went over to help Rhys to his feet with his one good hand. The constable was lifeless beneath Ava, and she was coming to. Jacob got to his feet with an arm round Rhys, and both of them made their way over to Ava, who was lifting the rock in her hands. She held it above her head, ready to bash the constable’s head to mushy flesh, and then Rhys weakly grasped her arm.
“Let’s… go…” He breathed, and then moaned in pain. Jacob wondered, horrified, what damage had been done to Rhys’ ribs.
Ava willingly let the rock slip from her hands, and it landed on the policeman’s chest, who still didn’t move or even stir.
“What the fuck are we going to do?” She asked.
“Let’s just get out of here.” Jacob demanded, and she came, slowly, not taking her eyes off the constable.
They all held onto each other – Rhys in the middle – and made their way out of the battle arena. Leaving the police car behind, its sadistic owner behind, and starting to navigate their way back out of the forest.
Jacob started to wonder if the constable was even that – had his suit been a costume? They’d only seen his car when it was dark, perhaps he’d painted it himself? But then, what about the sirens? Perhaps manufactured, which would explain why they never emitted any noise. The tape, the baton, the handcuffs… could such things be brought? Stolen?
The red and blue lights continued to whirl, becoming less helpful the further away they got. They were constantly running into police tap and having to step around it, under it, or over it. The latter two were a struggle given Rhys’ condition and Jacob having only one good hand (he still hadn’t looked at the one their attacker had stomped on).
When Jacob could just about make out houses through the trees, he knew they were nearly out, but Ava stopped walking, so he did too. Rhys was between them, his head bowed and his arms linking them.
“What’s up?” He asked her.
She was staring at the ground, but a glance showed Jacob there was nothing there, which meant she’d noticed – or thought of – something else, and Jacob felt a fire ignite in his belly, causing his heart to begin to beat more rapidly, as though trying to escape his body.
“Ava?” He croaked, realising he was on the verge of tears, and with the next question his voice almost rose to a shout, “What the fuck is it?”
Her lips moved, but no words came out, and now Jacob discovered he was crying. “What?!” He screamed.
“The lights.” She whispered, and then Jacob realised too. “The sirens are gone.”
Rhys’ head shot up too at this, and from somewhere, they all found the energy to run out of the forest.
*
It hadn’t gone to plan, but he smiled nonetheless as he drove out of the vermin-infested pit, because now he had something new that he could work with. The sympathy he’d get if he could play this story right – the anger he could generate – could do great things for him. Not only that, but if he could pin it on one of their community, or a few of them (kids wouldn’t work; that would do nothing for his image other than tarnish it), bust them, and stoke the tensions that were already high even further, leading to some more arrests and crackdowns on the crime-ridden community, he could very quickly find himself rising in the force. He’d been thinking short-term with his plans to eradicate their scum, but now he could embark on a more long-term path.
With blood drying on his face, covering his nose in a circle and coating his lips in a grin, Police Constable Ralph Cox smiled, and laughed.
April, 2020
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