PAIN HAS A PERMANENT ADDRESS - READ BETWEEN THE LIES

READ BETWEEN THE LIES - EPISODE SIX

23  Insects chirped in the long dry grass which encroached on the airbase's perimeter. 

 I crouched down and turned towards the shadowy complex of the airbase.  Lifting my face from the parched soil, I peered through the diamond-shaped mesh of the perimeter fence for any sign of activity.  I frowned.  Nothing.  No movement.  No lights. 

 I leapt to my feet, rammed the toe of my boot into the mesh and hauled myself up.  With two or three swift moves I was up. I swung myself over to the other side where I landed as gracefully as I could, spreading my feet wide to distribute my weight.  I looked swiftly around.  Still no sign of life. 

 Ahead, visible against the night sky was the airbase's control tower.  I thought I discerned the movement of some kind through the panoramic window but, again, no lights.  I pressed myself against the lower wall and paused to consider my next move. 

 A number of lorries were parked close by which attracted my interest, but the control tower seemed the logical place to start, despite the absence of any personnel. 

 Detaching myself from the wall, I walked swiftly and silently across the tarmac towards the tower.  I put out both hands to grab the steel bannisters of the staircase, then hauled myself upwards until I was right outside the door. 

 I examined the lock, then I stopped as I heard voices. 

A narrow, grilled catwalk extended around the circular tower just outside the thick glass window. I jumped over a metal gate and on to the catwalk in one silent movement.  Crouching down, I pressed my face close to the glass and tried to make out what was going on inside the darkened office.  A light seemed to have been switched on, but it did no more than illuminate like the side of a man's face.  The voices within were rendered indecipherable by the thick plate glass. 

 I pressed my face to the window and tried once again to peer inside.  The bulky shape was talking on a mobile phone, but I still couldn't make out what was being said. 

 At the sound of booted feet crunching on gravel, I sank to my knees and turned away from the window.  I tensed and tucked myself under the lip of the window, looking down to see who was coming. 

 An airman, resplendent in his uniform, patrolled below.  He looked about alertly; his machine gun slung over his shoulder. 

 I slowed my breathing and tried to keep still.  The airman was directly below me and, despite the darkness, had only to look up to see me. 

 Shifting my weight only a fraction, I knew at once that I had made a mistake.  The metal gantry creaked, and the airman tensed, pulling his machine gun to waist level as he pointed it into the shadows. 

 I looked left, then right, the muscles on his neck standing out like whipcord.  Then he looked up, his face in a crazed and disturbing smile.  I seized the moment and flung myself from the catwalk. My legs cannoned into the airman's chest and sent him crashing into the gravel.  He lay there still, and stunned, by my attack. 

Anxious not to be caught when I had found out precisely nothing, I instantly took to my heels, racing from the gravel on to the tarmac of the airstrip. 

 Putting at least two hundred metres between me and my pursuer, my immediate thought was to get back to Yazmin waiting for me in the car and drive back as quickly as possible.  I had learnt nothing from my sortie except that the RAF patrolmen were armed and dangerous.  It had been quite a while and Yazmin would be wondering where I'd got to.    

 However, I found myself diverting from the direct route back to the perimeter fence as soon as I saw the hangar, looming through the darkness like the hump of a great whale.  My insatiable curiosity got the better of me and I slowed to a fast walk, casting a glance behind me to check whether I was being followed.  The clatter of the airman's feet on concrete told me I was, so I ran swiftly up to the hangar, turned the corner, and flattened myself against the wall. 

 The airman raced past; seemingly tireless, dark eyes fixed ahead. 

 I waited until he had gone, and then I walked back to the front of the structure.  Two massive doors designed for planes to pass in and out, stretched up into the darkness.  For the sake of convenience, a smaller, man-sized door had been cut into one of them.  I pushed it, and, to my delight, it opened. 

 I peered through into pitch darkness, then glanced back towards the fence.  I should get back to Yazmin, of course, but I had come to the airbase to find some answers.  Perhaps this hangar would provide them. 

 I stepped through the door and closed it softly behind my back. 

Feeling in the pockets of my jacket, I found a thin pencil torch and clicked it on.  A narrow shaft of light sprang from it, immediately illuminating a landscape of filthy rags and metal fragments.  Oil stained the floor everywhere, the relics of repair work for whatever had been kept in here.  I swept the beam of the torch around the hangar.  Benches and chairs had been stacked none too carefully against the wall, looking as though they might crash down at any moment.  Then I saw why they had been moved out of the way.  There were signs of recent activity.  Part of the floor had been scrubbed clean and there were now over a dozen black, leather upholstered surgical tables arranged in a row, stretching away into the gloom. 

 I examined the closest, fingering the heavy-duty straps firmly attached to its sides. 

 I sucked my lower lip thoughtfully then moved deeper into the hangar.   I came upon another door.  This was new and had seemingly been carved from the wall.  There were scorch marks around the steel frame, and I examined them closely. 

 The light of the torch showed what looked like a complex entry-coder, but it didn't seem to be finished.  Wires hung from it in a clump, like seaweed. 

 Shrugging, I pushed at the door.  It swung noiselessly. 

 The room beyond was vast and brand-new.  I could smell the fresh plastic, even though I could see very little.  For a moment, I considered switching on the lights but decided against it. 

Ahead of me, I could make out a semicircle of machinery, divided into sections like metal teeth.  There was a swivel chair in front of each section, and I sat down on the nearest one. 

 I clamped the pencil torch in my mouth and spun around twice, then tensed as I heard a noise from the hangar beyond. 

 Just as I grabbed the torch from my mouth, the metal door sprang open and

the airman threw himself inside.                                                                

24  Before I could react, his fist hit the side of my head.  I crashed to the floor and tried to point the torch at my attacker, but it was knocked from my hand, landing on top of the machines, and spinning round and round, creating a dizzying halo of light.  

 The airman came at me again and slammed a booted foot into my ribs.  With a winded groan, I fell back against the ring of consoles and tried to grab hold of my assailant's leg. 

 The airman was ready for me, though, and as I managed to haul the man's leg into the air, kicked savagely.  I went flying.  My chest barrelled into the nearest console and suddenly the whole room flickered into life. 

 The consoles whined and whole banks of lights blinked on.  I saw that the back wall was made of thick plate glass, and some kind of tunnel stretched beyond.  Lights flickered along its entire length, like a runway. 

 The airman stood with legs wide apart and upholstered his machine gun. He levelled the weapon at me and prepared to fire. 

 I gazed into his big dark eyes.  An idea flashed into my head and I dived for the torch.  I swung the beam directly into the man's eyes and the airman shielded his eyes with his right hand. 

 Taking advantage of the airman's disorientation, I delivered a chopping blow to his chest and sent him smashing back into the consoles.  A whole bank of switches clicked into life.  Soundlessly, smoke streamed into the tunnel beyond the glass.  I cast a rapid glance towards it and made out the massive shape of a jet engine at the far end.  It was a wind tunnel. 

The airman struggled to his feet.  I kicked out with a cry and caught him in the ribs.  The man fell back again, but this time managed to wrestle his machine gun from under him.  He opened fire. 

 I dived to the floor and covered my head with my hands as bullets sang off every available surface.  Rolling over and over, I flung myself into the corner just as a whole volley of shots hits the plate glass and shattered it into fragments.  Immediately, the room filled with the roar of the jet engine in the tunnel beyond, as though a typhoon had been bottled and trapped there.  The wind tore at me as the airman staggered towards me, the flesh around his mouth buffeted by the incredible strength of the wind tunnel.  He raised his gun again.  

 I grabbed a swivel chair and sent it crashing into the airman's legs.  As the man crumpled, I jumped over him and landed on top of the consoles like a tightrope walker.  But the airman was ready for me. He sprang back to his feet like an unstoppable machine and pumped the trigger of his machine gun. 

 Nothing happened.  Something jammed. 

 He glanced down, and I spun around, and my foot connected with the weapon and sent it crashing against the wall. 

 Roaring like a beast, the airman hurled himself at me and together we fell through the shattered glass and into the wind tunnel. 

 The force of the engine was incredible, and I struggled to stay on my feet as the wind whipped and tore at my clothes. 

 The airman advanced on me, teeth bared, by the power of the man-made hurricane.  I ran at him and gripped him in a bear hug.  If I could only get the man on to the floor.  He'd probably never be able to get up again . . . Squinting as the wind slapped at my face, I tried to force the airman down, kicking at his claves in an effort to unbalance him.  The airman fought back, strong arms moving to clamp around my neck. 

 As we wrestled, I glanced upwards.  To my astonishment there seemed to be another tunnel, like a great chimney, stretching high up towards an impossibly distant ceiling. 

 On the wall, just visible in the dim light, were two large buttons. One glowed red, the other a muted green. 

 The airman pushed me away with a grunt and I fell back against the wall.  With a roar, the man raced at me again, but I stepped out, struggling against the incredible wind, grabbed his wrist and threw the airman over my shoulder.   He slammed against the raised buttons and the green light suddenly flared brightly. 

 At once, the force of the wind altered.  The distant jet engine cut out and another, high above our heads, powered up.  This time, however, it sucked the air upwards. 

 I felt a massive tug and scrabbled at the floor like a cat trying to find purchase on wet tiles. 

 The airman shot into the air, arms and legs flailing, but managed to grab hold of my ankle. 

 My fingernails dug into the floor and I managed to grip on to a plastic tile.  I felt the glue coming away even as I did so, but it might hold long enough for me to reach the red button . . . 

The two of us were strung out like acrobats.  I clung desperately to the floor while the airman clutched onto my leg as the huge engine overhead sucked

air into its heart. 

 One whole corner of the floor tile came loose. 

 I cried out, feeling my body jerk upwards like a cinder in a chimney flue.  I gripped the tile in both hands and tried to swing both myself and the airman closer to the wall.  We hung in the air like two links in a paper chain.  I swung again and this time I heard the airman's foot smack against the metal wall. 

 "Try and hit the red button!"  I shouted. 

 The airman didn't react. 

 "Can you understand me," I yelled the above the colossal roar of the jet?  

"Hit the red button!  For f**k's sake!" 

 I swung us again.  The airman's whole body slammed against the wall.  His grip on my leg loosened, and he slipped back, his hands sliding until they came to rest on the heel of my shoe. 

 "Hold on!"  I bellowed.    

 Sliding my hands deep under the floor tile, I swung his body again.  There was a loud crack and three-quarters of the tile came loose. 

 The airman's hands scrabbled at my foot, but it was no good.  The whole shoe came away and, still clutching it, the airman was sucked violently upwards.  He screamed helplessly and that only stopped when his body connected with the deadly blades of the jet engine. 

 I swung myself wildly at the wall, just as the floor tile came away.  I felt the wind rushing past my face as I flew upwards but lashed out frantically with the foot that was protected by my remaining shoe as the red button flashed by.  My toe banged into it with devastating force and, at once, the distant engine overhead shut down. 

 I fell to the hard floor and groaned as my chest connected with the tiles.  Panting with exertion, I struggled weakly to my feet and walked slowly out of the wind tunnel. 

 I glanced over my shoulder as blood began to rain down on to the gleaming white tiles. 

25  Once clear of the hangar, I ran careering across the airbase like a man possessed.  Booted feet thundered behind me and, even as I ran, I thought it strange that security hadn't turned a single searchlight on. 

 Gathering all my depleted strength, I tore towards the fence, gripped the wire with both hands, and hauled myself upwards. 

 Cursing, I managed to drag myself higher.  An image flashed through my mind of an escaping prisoner of war.  Imprisonment was a fate I had only ever seen in films.  Now I experienced it first-hand, struggling over a fence with the airbase security men in pursuit.  At least they didn't have their machine guns trained on me.  Maybe they didn't need to.  

 A security man grasped my ankle and tugged hard. 

 I immediately kicked at him, landing a heavy blow to his shoulder.  An instant later, he bore down again, this time grasping my calf with both hands.   Despite my best efforts, I felt myself sinking slowly towards the ground.  I forced my hands into the mesh of the fence until I could feel it cut into my skin, and I kicked viciously at his exposed face.  My foot connected with his mouth, and then he gasped as it cracked into his teeth. 

 I kicked again, this time landing a savage blow right to the windpipe.  He choked and staggered back, freeing me to climb the fence again. 

 Still, there was no searchlight, no harsh klaxon breaking the silence of the warm night.  I headed for the road back to Oxmarket and took the corner at such speed I felt the ground give way beneath me.  I hit the rough track chest first, knocking the wind out of myself. 

 I flipped over on to my back and lay there for a long moment, staring up at the sky, struggling to breathe.  My ribs felt like they had an anvil resting on them. 

 As I recovered, I heard the pursuing group of airmen heading for the road.  I made a snap decision.  They were bound to think I would head for Oxmarket.  Instead, I would double back around the airbase, towards the marshland, and give them the slip. 

 I struggled to my feet, hobbling a little and wincing at the friction burns I had sustained on my legs.  I ducked out of sight as half a dozen airmen ran past me towards the village and, crouching down by the grassy verge, I made my way back towards the airbase.  I thought about Yazmin waiting patiently in the car on the other side of the airbase.  I had to get back to her and quickly.   I kept close to the fence and followed it all the way around for about a third of a mile until I saw the east gate.  It was opened to allow egress from the base.  I caught my breath and bent down, watching to detect any movement.  Only two or three airmen stood guard.   

 I racked my brain, unsure what to do next. 

 The decision was made for me as I leant forward, slipped, and put out my hands to break my fall.  Both palms connected with the mesh of the fence, sending a shuddering rattle through the structure.  I tensed. 

As one, like identical weather vanes, the airmen swung in my direction.  

None spoke.  I could hear my breath streaming through his open mouth.  

Then they raised their guns and fired. 

 Bullets thudded – one, two, three – into the wet ground at my feet.  I flung myself down and rolled over as clumps of soil spat out and covered my clothes. 

Without waiting for the airmen to pursue me, I took off at a run heading blindly forward into the marshland. 

 The marshes extended for some acres behind the airbase, hillocks of tufty grass interspersed with great ponds of dank water.  I splashed my way through, oblivious to the jets of mud that rocketed out and soaked my trousers.  I had to get back to Yazmin.  Although I didn't stop running, I was vaguely aware that the guards hadn't bothered to follow me. 

 It was starting to rain by the time I got back to the car and leant against it before pulling open the door and falling into the front passenger seat. 

 Yazmin looked startled.  "Jesus, John, you nearly gave me a heart attack.  

Are you OK?" 

 "Drive!" 

 Yazmin started the engine.  There was a thunk as the locks engaged, and then we were accelerating away, the headlights showing a wall of torrential rain.   We sat in silence.  Yazmin sat forward in her seat, trying to make out the road.  The airbase lay behind us, but it was impossible to get any sense of where we were.  It was like driving on the seabed.  The rain swirled like a waterfall in the headlights, half-seen shapes emerging briefly before disappearing again. 

 For all that, Yazmin kept up a good speed, shoulders hunched in

concentration.  After a few miles, the sense of tension in the car began to ease. 

 "What happened?" she asked. 

 "Those men on that airbase are not RAF. I'd stake my life on it." 

 "How do you kn-?"  She began and then yelled, "s**t!" as a figure materialized from the downpour in front of us. 

 There was a glimpse of outstretched arms, and then I was flung forward as Yazmin braked and swerved.  But not in time.  We hit the figure full on, but instead of the expected thud of impact, it disintegrated in a blizzard of fragments and cloth.  The car slewed, throwing me hard against the passenger side window as Yazmin fought for control. 

 She almost made it.  Fragments of glass peppered us as the windscreen shattered, letting in the rain.  The car briefly seemed to level out, and I had to think, Thank God.  Then there was a crunching jolt, and everything tipped sideways.  The car seemed to hang weightless, then something slammed into me.  The world became a tumbling confusion of darkness and noise.  I was flung around without any sense of up or down.  

 Then there was stillness. 

 Gradually, sounds and sensations began to reassert themselves.  A faint ticking, the steady drip-drip of rain.  I felt it against my face, along with cold air, but it was too dark to see.  I was sitting upright but at an angle.  Something was constricting my chest, making it hard to breathe.  I groped at it with hands that felt leaden and clumsy.  I was coated with a fine powder: residue from the airbags.  They'd deflated now, draped out like pale tongues. 

But the seatbelt held me in place, stretched taut across me like an iron band.  I fumbled to unfasten it, shedding pebble-like pieces of broken glass, and slid down the seat as it slithered free. 

 "Yazmin?"  I tried to make her out in the darkness.  Relief flowed through me as she stirred.  "Are you hurt?" 

 "I . . . I feel sick . . ."  She sounded dazed. 

 "Hang on." 

 I tugged at the catch to Yazmin's seatbelt.  "What did we hit?" 

 "I don't know."   

 I hurriedly freed Yazmin's.  "Can you get out now?" 

 "I – I think so. . ." 

 The door on my side was jammed.  The hinges screeched in protest as I kicked it open.  My legs almost gave way when I climbed out of the car.  I leaned on to it for support, light-headed and aching all over.  The car had come to rest at the bottom of a shallow embankment.  It was upright but dented on one side, the bodywork scraped and mangled.  One headlight was smashed and the other gave only a sickly glow, shining sadly into the ground like a blinded eye.  The rain was tainted with the smell of petrol, but there was no sign of

fire. 

 Crystalline pieces of shattered glass crunched underfoot as I limped around to the driver's side slipping on the torn earth and grass.  The car was more badly damaged here.  The roof had crumpled, buckling the door, but Yazmin had managed to climb out of the car and was gingerly making her way towards me. 

 "How are you?"  I could feel her shivering as I put my arm around her.   

She leaned against me.  "Bit dizzy, and my head's splitting." 

 I would have asked more, but at that moment there was a sudden flash of lightning.  The thunder followed almost immediately, a raging bellow that shook the air. 

 Yazmin's scream drowned out the thunder.  The lightning had revealed a tall, silver silhouette, staring at us with eyes that were dead and black. 

26  The car had crashed on the edge of Oxmarket forest, and the gnarled trees hemmed us in as we started to run.  The ground beneath us was a jumble of moss-covered rocks and bogs of grass which we skidded and slipped on.     Around us, the forest vibrated with the rumble of thunder.  An uneasy feeling gripped me, and a moment later the sky was lit up by a flat sheet of lightning.  For an instant, everything was bleached to a dazzling white.  In the pregnant silence that followed, I became aware of our own hoarse breathing and the dripping rustle of wet branches that became drowned out by another bellicose crack of thunder. 

 Off to one side, just visible in the rain, another muddy trail had been ploughed through the soft ground.  The moss covered the rocks like seaweed at a low tide as we set off in the new direction.  Whoever had been this way before us, had slipped on it just as we had, smearing it off to reveal the dark, wet stone underneath. 

 A little further on, the tree line abruptly ended, and we found ourselves on an overgrown trail, one that was obviously used by walkers.  The ground was churned to black mud in both directions.   

 "Where does this lead?"  I asked Yazmin. 

 "The National Nature Reserve." 

 "Let's keep going." 

 We continued to run and followed the path deeper into the nature reserve.  The rain soaked us, drowning out any surrounding noise.  Then, as though the rain was solidifying, a bird hide loomed in front of us.   

"We can shelter in there," I shouted.  I wasn't sure whether Yazmin heard me or not, but she obviously had the same idea as me, as without hesitation, she headed toward the shed-like building.   

 I felt something snag my thigh in the undergrowth.  I looked down and just made out a rusty wire fence running through the undergrowth.  Hanging from it were dozens of dark objects.  At first, I couldn't make out what they were, then the objects took shape.  The bodies of small birds and animals had been hung on the wire and left to rot. 

 Dozens of them. 

 "Yazmin!" I called.  "Wait!" 

 She had stopped just before the door and came back to me. 

 "What is it?" 

 The rain was drumming onto the nature reserve as I picked my way along the wire fence.  After a few yards, it simply stopped, the strands lying curled and broken in the grass. 

 "Something's wrong," I said. 

 A flash of light caught our peripheral vision.  We stopped mid-step waiting for it to come again.  It didn't.  Lightning?  But there was no accompanying roll of thunder.  I could make out the dark shape of the hide but hesitated.  It could have been sheet lightning, I thought.  That didn't make any noise, did it?  Or the night was playing tricks on us because of our fear. 

 The wind and the rain made it impossible to hear.  And it was too dark to see anything without a torch, but I didn't want to give our position away to our pursuer.    

Against my better judgement, I took my mobile out of my pocket and shone the beam of torch around.  It picked out only thrashing grass and the lonely shell of the hide. 

 Shivering, I approached the hide, playing the torch beam on its doorway.  I shone the light inside, satisfying myself that no one was in there, and then I began to circle round the wooden walls. 

 Nothing.  Gradually, I allowed myself to relax.  It must have been sheet lightning after all.  Yes, either that or my imagination.  I completed my circuit, feet whispering through the thick grass.  When I reached the doorway again, Yazmin stood there waiting for me.  She looked frozen.  Even so, I forced myself to shine the surrounding beam last time before I felt comfortable about stepping inside. 

 "Shut the door," I whispered, and I heard Yazmin shutting the door and sliding the bolt across. 

 The air was stale and fetid.  I recognized the flavours of death in it, tried to shut my mind to what that meant.  It seemed much bigger on the inside than on the outside.  I played the beam around the interior, its glow revealing a bewildering profusion of shapes and shadows. 

 We stood transfixed by the sight in front of me. 

 The entire ceiling was hung with animal and bird corpses.  Foxes, rabbits, ducks, all suspended like some macabre exhibit.  Many of them had rotted to mummified skin and bone, while others showed more recent putrefaction.  All were mutilated.  Lacking heads or limbs, they swung with hypnotic slowness in time to some faint draught. 

 "Can we leave, John?"  There was panic in Yazmin's voice.  "Please?" 

"Just a minute," I said quietly, wrenching my eyes away and scanning the beam around the rest of the hide.  More images clamoured for my attention.   I picked out a discarded camera.  An expensive camera.  

 I picked it up.  The battery was dead but there would be photographic evidence on the memory card.  I removed it and slid it into my pocket. 

 Then a noise outside. 

 Footsteps. 

 I turned off the torch, released from my surprise. Yazmin was lost in shadow, but I could still see her.  She looked at me unspeaking.  There was something dangerous lurking in the darkness outside.  

 All we could hear was a horrible gurgling sound, a portent of doom, as we cowered in the dark interior of the hide.  Despite how cold it was, I could feel sweat all down my back, tracing the length of my spine; feel my heart pounding in my chest, its echo in my ears.  I swallowed, and in the silence, it felt like the noise was immense.  I tensed, expecting a reaction. 

 All I got was silence. 

 But then, a couple of seconds later, there was a gentle squeak; one tiny moment of sound that seemed to carry in the darkness like a gunshot.  Virtually blind in the dark already, I closed my eyes, trying to focus my other senses, trying to understand what it could be. 

 Then it came to me. 

 The soles of someone's shoes.  

 Six feet away.  Maybe less. 

 Separated by the wooden walls of the hide. 

 There was another noise. 

Someone banged on the door. 

 We jumped and took a couple of deep breaths. 

 Stupidly, I almost called out to ask who it was.  But a killer would hardly walk right up and knock, I chided myself.  Even so, I picked up a discarded piece of wood.  Just in case. 

 Then, drawing confidence from the wood's weight, I went to open the door.