One Hour Earlier

Barry seemed to have been circling the same three roundabouts for years, but finally he took a turn and went down a dark street. If it had been daytime, Isaac might have been able to see where they were. Then again, maybe not- he wasn’t even sure how long they’d been in the car. Maybe they were halfway to Scotland now.

The houses all looked identically yellow and shabby under the streetlamps. As the car slowed, Isaac saw a woman walk up to them and unlock the front door. “There she is,” growled Barry, “There she is.” The car swerved into the woman’s front doorway just as she slammed the door.

“Barry, don’t…” said Shona, but he was already out of the car. “Barry, it’s not worth it! Barry!”

Barry was already at the door. He hammered on it with both fists, then moved onto the ground-floor windows and did the same thing there. “Where’s my son, Charlie? Where’s my fucking son?”

In the back of the car, the boys didn’t look at each other. It was probably too dark to see, even if they had. Shona just watched Barry move, and groaned. “That bloody temper of his…”

There was a voice from inside the house- the woman had shouted something. In response, Barry turned around and went back to the car. Initially, Isaac thought he was going to get back in and drive away (onto the next adventure, he thought gloomily), but instead, Barry opened up the boot and took something out. Isaac didn’t get a proper look at what it was until he started smashing the windows.

There was another shout from inside the house. This time, Isaac heard the words, “I’m calling the police!”

Great! thought Isaac, You do that! With any luck he’ll be too mental to run away before they arrive, and this whole thing would be over. But deep down, Isaac knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that. Even if the police did arrive in time to arrest Barry, they’d probably make a point of taking in Isaac, Chris and Tommy, too. As accessories to window-smashing, or whatever.

Anyway, it didn’t come to that, because as soon as she heard what the woman in the house had said, Shona got out of the car. “Barry…” He didn’t turn around, so she went up to him and put her hand on the back of his arm. “Barry, please…”

“She’s got my son, Shona!” snapped Barry… but he sounded a bit quieter than he had before, which probably meant that he could be persuaded.

“She’s going to call the police, Barry. Just come back. Please.”

Isaac looked at them, in the orange light of the streetlamps. He couldn’t hear much more than grunts- pleading grunts from Shona, mildly defiant ones from Barry- but he got the idea. Long before the police arrived, Barry was going to get back in the car, and away they’d go.  The night wasn’t over yet.

 

Forty Minutes Earlier

They were at the top of a hill, setting fire to things- bits of grass, bits of rubbish, stuff like that. None of them particularly wanted to set fire to things, but Barry wouldn’t let them stop.

If Isaac had been thinking straight, if he hadn’t been frozen-solid-terrified of taking any risks, he’d probably have been able to think of a hundred different ways out of this. As it was, he could only be grateful that Barry was making them set fire to grass and crisp packets instead of someone’s house. Or an actual person.

And if he did try to make them do that? They’d probably go along with it. Because there was no way out.

(To Be Concluded)