The Broken II: Tainted Trail Read online

  “You pair of muppets,” Lewis says, laughing.

  “Ha, Benny boy, it would appear that you can’t handle your drink. You’re no match for the mighty Hugo,” Hugo boasts, flexing his muscles.

  When he joined Waverley Hey Academy three years ago, Hugo instantly connected with Lewis and Ben. With his quirky attitude, he added a different dimension to the dynamic. Desperate to fit in, Hugo was quick to surrender his morals in order to have something he’d never been privy to before: friends. With his elegant English accent, extensive vocabulary and knowledge, Hugo doesn’t exactly fit in with most school cliques, so when he secured his place with Lewis and Ben it was more than he ever dared hope for.

  Once Hugo was in, Lewis was quick to realise that welcoming this member into his and Ben’s dynamic enhanced their abilities and strengths dramatically. And so, when the house next to the derelict park that had been boarded-up for months became occupied by an oversized family, the boards were taken down and Lewis, Ben and Hugo were quick to recruit two of the new residents there, the genuine terrible twosome – fifteen-year-old identical twin brothers, Elijah and Isaiah Obi. With their tanned completion and dazzling smiles, Lewis believed Elijah and Isaiah were a perfect combination to add to his growing group of friends.

  Elijah, who is sat at the other end of the bench, watches Ben coughing. “What is it?” he asks.

  “It’s super fucking strong brandy, mate,” Ben says, his voice hoarse.

  Ben passes the bottle to Elijah. No sooner has he gripped the neck of the bottle than he throws the intoxicating liquid to the back of this throat.

  Digging inside his pocket on his jacket, Hugo pulls out a plastic bag.

  “What’s that you’ve got?” Lewis says, intrigued.

  “Ah ha, you want to know what this is? Well, it’s a little something special I have concocted for us to get a sweet little buzz.”

  “Mate, it looks like your nan baked it,” Isaiah says, appearing amused.

  “Oh boys, believe me, my grandmother doesn’t bake this kind of product. Come on, have I let you down before? Huh…”

  “Fuck it – I’m in,” Elijah says.

  Following in his brother’s footsteps, Isaiah says, “Give me one of them.”

  “Isaiah, man, stop hogging the product, we wanna trip too,” Elijah says as he snatches the bag from out of his brother’s hands.

  Curious, Lewis questions, “Hugo, what sort of buzz we gonna get from this?”

  “Well, Lewis – let’s just say in a moment or two you’re going to feel the most immense rush throughout your body. These fluffy mini bites are what I like to call my pillows of euphoria.”

  “Yeah, man – Lewis, give me one of those pillows,” Ben says.

  “One-minute, Ben, chill, you’re gonna knock em out me hand,” Elijah complains.

  “Boys,” Hugo says in a calm voice, “relax, there’s plenty to go around.” He smirks as he takes another bag of the fluffy looking cakes out of his pocket.

  “Elijah, can you feel that?” says Isaiah.

  “What?” asks Elijah.

  “That, my hand is moving.”

  “Isaiah, you need to sort your head out,” Elijah says, laughing. “I can’t feel shit. Hugo man what the fuck?”

  “Be patient, it will come.”

  Lewis spots his friend across the park putting his phone back in his pocket after finishing a call. “Hey Renz, check out these pillows that Hugo’s nan made,” he shouts.

  Making his way over is the smallest member of the group, sixteen-year-old Renato Da-Silva-Fernandes. He comes from a family of shorter males, but while his genes may have stunted his growth, his lack of height is not something others should mistake for a weakness. An only child, Renato is a spoilt hot head. With brown hair, deep chocolate brown eyes and olive skin complexion, Renato is originally from Portugal and came to the United Kingdom only seven years ago.

  “What is it?” asks Renato.

  “It’s a pillow cake thing that gets you high. Look, my hand is floating,” Isaiah says, waving his arm in the air. He looks like he’s in a trance.

  “Keep those things away from me, man. I’ve got a kick boxing competition this week I need to keep my title. If I have to get drug tested and whatever that shit is comes up, my dad will fucking kill me.”

  Every young male within the group has his own purpose and they each bring something unique to the table. Filled with testosterone, this group of friends are all currently competing for the undivided attention of the only girl present.

  She has thick shoulder-length choppy jet-black hair that has been parted on one side and swoops across one of her eyes. Her hairstyle compliments her dark alternative clothing. This expressive young lady is embracing the rock chick look. At present, she’s ordering the young impressionable boys to complete nuisance dares while she records them on her phone. Looking at Renato, she chuckles. In her extremely well-spoken English accent she says, “So, you won’t take drugs because – daddy might kill you? Ha, let’s see just how chicken are you then, mini man…”

  Appearing to be instantly offended by her words and not used to being mocked by a girl, Renato responds, “Nar, chicken. Did you just say chicken? I’m no chicken, am I lads?”

  The boys snigger under their breath at Renato being called out. An awkward silence ensues. Seemingly frustrated by this lack of backing from his friends, Renato becomes aggressive. “Nar! So it’s like that then? You can all just shut up anyway. I’ll show you lot chicken.”

  The young girl continues to record the events on her phone. Renato begins stomping around the park. Both Lewis and the trouble-causing young girl follow him out of the playground.

  “So what you going to do then, mini man?” the girl taunts.

  “Mini man? Pfftt, you wanna stop calling me that or I’ll show you mini man.”

  “Oh, you do know how to excite a girl, don’t you, Renz?” she teases.

  Lewis chases after Renato as he makes his way across the field.

  “Renz, what are you doing?” Lewis pleads with his friend, concerned about what Renato might do next. “Come on, mate, don’t be daft. Let’s just go back to the park.”

  “Nar, mate, you’ll see.” Turning away, Renato mutters under his breath, “Fucking chicken. Stupid bitch, I’ll show you fucking chicken.”

  Lewis watches as Renato grabs a huge black plastic sack from a pile of discarded waste. It is bursting at the seams. Following Renato back into the park, Lewis shouts, “Mate, come on, what are you doing?”

  Renato grabs one of the seats on the baby swing set. It’s barely hanging from rusty metal chains. The corroded frame looks as if it’s going to come crashing down at any moment. Renato stuffs the rubbish bag into the seat.

  “Come on then, what are you going to do with that? Tell the camera. Give us a wave,” the girl says.

  Renato doesn’t respond. Taking a lighter from his pocket, he flicks the flint down and sets the plastic black bag alight. It instantly bursts into a huge ball of bright orange flames which begin travelling at a rapid rate. As Renato turns his back to the fire, he laughs loudly and shouts, “Yeah, who’s chicken now?!”

  Lewis and all the other lads stand, gobsmacked, watching the destructive fire gust up the frame of the swing set. Feeling the heat from the blaze, Lewis shouts, “Renato, you muppet! What did you do that for?”

  “What?” Renato replies, seeming confused that his friends aren’t cheering him on.

  “Are you mad?” Lewis says. “We’re all on our last strike. One more strike and we’re all getting nicked. No more kick boxing career for you, ya fucking idiot.”

  Panicking, Lewis turns to the group. “We should get the fuck out of ‘ere. Throw your hoods up. Don’t forget, there’s CCTV.”

  “He’s a fucking dick head, man. What the fuck did he do that for?” Elijah says.

&nbs
p; “No idea mate. You need to get Isaiah he’s out of it,” Lewis replies.

  Grabbing his brother, Elijah begins shouting in Isaiah’s face. “Yo, you need to fucking sober up cause we need to get the fuck outta here.”

  “Huh.”

  “Isaiah, snap the fuck out of it, Renz has started a fucking fire. The fucking pigs are gonna be on their way.”

  The girl doesn’t engage with the group discussion. She is standing just a few feet away from the fire. Still recording the events, she stares intently, appearing to embrace this vicious fiery energy as it grows. She watches as all the elements inside the bag crumble in the flames. Stray sparks scatter and a lavalike residue trickles from the swing set, landing on the tarmac floor and beginning to burn the waste left on the ground. It’s spreading fast. As all the different materials inside the bag continue fuelling the fire, a glow glistening in the reflection of the girl’s eye. Smiling and appearing content at the events which are taking place, she doesn’t so much as flinch as a sudden huge bang bursts from inside.

  Hugo shouts, “Aerosol can! Run!”

  The boys hear the sound of sirens in the distance. Panicking, Lewis runs to the girl in a desperate attempt to grab her arm and drag her away. In a trance like state, she doesn’t move so much as an inch. Pulling on her arm again, Lewis shouts, “Come on, we need to get out of here. We’re gonna get nicked for arson.” Still no response. Lewis shakes her and shouts “Move!”

  She appears to be utterly obsessed with the destructive growing energy. She closes her eyes and then gasps for air. Lewis continues calling her name. The sirens are getting louder with every second.

  Shaking her one final time, Lewis shouts, “Come on, we need to run.”

  She turns to Lewis and begins laughing hysterically. Lewis sees the rest of the group have already disappeared. Holding her hand, Lewis grabs her phone, switches off the camera and begins running, pulling her alongside him. He looks across to her and sees she seems content, smiling from ear to ear. Lewis cannot help but wonder what is going on inside her head as the expression on her face doesn’t match the situation. She’s laughing and seems proud of the destruction they’ve caused. The further away they get from the crime scene, the less anxious Lewis feels. They are now far enough away to know that they have escaped without detection or any connection to the criminal activity behind them. Shaking his head in disbelief, Lewis breathes deeply. They almost got caught.

  Staring back at the girl, Lewis is captivated by her beautiful features, which are revealed with each bounce of her hair as she runs alongside him. Lewis smiles as his final bit of anxiety turns into adrenaline.

  Once the park is completely out of sight, they slow down. Lewis looks across to her once more. Slightly out of breath, she laughs loudly. Her laughter is contagious and Lewis joins in. They stop in the alleyway. Alone with this girl and aroused, Lewis is desperate to kiss her. Suddenly she pushes Lewis up against the wall and kisses him passionately. Unable to think, Lewis surrenders to her and his legs go weak. The sirens are getting louder, but these two don’t so much as flinch as they become physically intertwined with one another.

  Chapter Seven

  Murderer!

  Arriving back at home, Matthew is about to activate the automatic door to his garage but before he presses the button, he notices something isn’t quite right. Stopping the car halfway down the drive, he looks at the front of the house. Confused, Matthew sees that the front door is not the way he left it. Apparently the “intruder-proof” sturdy door is no longer locked. It has been forcefully opened and vandalised. Staying in the car, Matthew stares attentively to ensure that his mind isn’t in fact playing cruel tricks on him. Once his sight has confirmed that the door is wide open, he drives forward and pulls the handbrake up, while trying to remain calm. He is attempting to think rationally but struggling somewhat. Eventually he decides it’s best to leave the car parked outside the garage as this entrance also leads directly into the house. His thoughts racing at a hundred miles per hour, Matthew is getting himself into a state of panic. His palms are becoming moist and his hands suddenly begin to tremble. His levels of anxiety are rapidly heightening as adrenaline surges through his body.

  Tired of the games with which life continues to present to him, Matthew reaches into the glove compartment and grabs the bottle of vodka. Unable to calm his nerves by himself, Matthew is desperate for the toxic substance to take over and numb his mind. Undoing the metal cap, he throws the remaining contents of the bottle to the back of his throat. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, he feels the intoxicating liquid warming his internal organs as it travels through his body. Embracing the Dutch courage the alcoholic beverage gives him as it spreads around his system, Matthew now feels as if he can conquer his fear of going inside the house. Putting the strong urge to run away to the back of his mind, Matthew makes his final decision: he’s entering the house. Throwing the empty bottle onto the passenger’s seat, he wipes his mouth and attempts to motivate himself, “Right! Come on, Matthew.”

  Gathering his thoughts, he looks across the car and sees the brown leather backed diary resting in the footwell. Leaning over he struggles slightly as the pain from his broken ribs travels like a bolt of lightning up his torso. Wrapped up in the moment, he had forgotten all about his broken body. Picking up the diary, he holds it in his hands. Bringing the book of secrets up to his nose, Matthew smells the material to see if it has any trace of his daughter’s scent. Just knowing that she once held this very same possession makes him feel that tiny bit closer to her. Closing his eyes, he kisses the leather cover and slips the diary into the inside pocket of his jacket. He is content with its positioning – this precious irreplaceable item of memorabilia is now resting against his heart. Desiring nothing other than to focus all his attention on the only challenge he truly wishes to face, which is finding his daughter, Matthew looks into the rear-view mirror, staring deep into his own eyes.

  “You’re running out of time! You know you have a bigger mission than this. If you can’t face such a tiny challenge, what can you face? Now get a grip!”

  His final mini pep talk over, Matthew reaches back into the glove compartment and this time grabs his pistol. He examines the gun to make sure it’s loaded. Matthew steps out of the car and is cautious not to slam the door shut. He doesn’t want to warn the potential intruders of his arrival. Making his way towards the house, he takes the deepest breath in. He’s armed but very nervous. Unfortunately, whether he’s confident or not, there’s no going back now.

  Reaching the house, Matthew’s stands absolutely still, his back leaning against the front door. He can feel and hear every pump of his heart as it beats rapidly. Listening intently, Matthew’s on high alert for any noise that any intruders inside might make. There is deafening silence inside the building. Along with his heartbeat, the only other thing Matthew can hear is the sound of his breath as it leaves his body. Slowly, he enters the hallway. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Holding his arms high and the pistol in the defence position, Matthew feels a rush as adrenaline travels throughout his entire body with every step he takes.

  He makes his way towards the day room. Each step he takes he places down with caution. He is desperate not to create any sound by stepping on the debris that’s on the floor. Arriving at the day room, Matthew places his back up against the wall, and once again closes his eyes as he breathes deeply. His hands are trembling. Ready to face the unknown, Matthew jumps through the doorway. Scanning the room, much to his relief, he sees there is no one there. Entering this chaotic space, Matthew’s sight is instantly drawn to the huge graffiti message that has been left for him. Fresh, bright red paint drips down the walls, displaying one single malicious word. This very same eight-letter word that continues to haunt him daily has been sprayed in capital letters: “MURDERER”. Filled with a deep sadness and overwhelmed with misery, Matthew endures a huge sigh of despair as he slumps agains
t the wall. Feeling weary of people’s lack of compassion, he sits with his legs high and rests his arms on his knees. Dropping his pistol between his legs and onto the floor, Matthew puts his head in his hands and attempts to gather his thoughts. Trying not to sink back into a state of depression and yet again allow the ignorance of strangers to control his emotions, Matthew begins sobbing to himself. Tired of the torment, he’s tempted to end it all.

  After his findings, Matthew believed he was the only person inside the house, but suddenly he hears the sound of scurrying footsteps coming from upstairs. Without so much as a second thought, Matthew grabs his pistol and jumps up. Ready to face these pathetic vandalizing bullies, he heads out of the room and towards the bottom of the spiral staircase. He shouts out, “Who’s up there? I’ve got a gun, I will shoot, I promise!” Without an answer, the footsteps can still be heard, “I’ll give you one chance to get out of my house!”

  No sooner have the words left his mouth than the banging stops. Anxiously waiting for a reply, and once again not receiving one, he shouts, “I know you’re up there.” Still no answer. “Fine – have it your way. I’m counting to five and then I’m coming up. One… two… three…”

  He doesn’t finish counting before the thudding starts again, except this time, it’s getting louder and sounds like a stampede. Scared, Matthew quickly heads back into the day room. The intruders are now closer than ever. Shielding himself behind the wall, Matthew waits anxiously for whoever is upstairs to come down. Gathering his strength and perfecting his aim, he’s ready to teach them a lesson. His hands trembling, Matthew is aware there’s no going back.

  Rushing and almost tripping over one another in a desperate attempt to get to the bottom of the spiral staircase unharmed, three individuals all wearing black hoodies and white face masks appear, heading directly towards Matthew. Freaked out by the appearance of the unknown individuals, Matthew pulls the trigger and aimlessly fires his pistol. But, lucky for the intruders, he completely misses. He hears one of them shout, “Shit! The nutter’s got a gun. Quick, leg it, lads.”