Chapter 37

In the chill semi-darkness of her cell, Arabella was trying to force herself to stand. She knew that she no longer had any chance of getting to Tommy before he blew up the train - that hope had long since died - but perhaps, just perhaps, she could prevent Eddie and Hughes from enjoying their victory. Every element of her being was now focussed on doing whatever damage she could to them and to their plans, whatever the cost to her. Each incremental shift was agony and she was forced to stop frequently to quiet the pounding in her head or prevent her stomach from rebelling. Only the fierce purity of hatred allowed her to move at all.

She had just managed the herculean task of swinging her legs over the edge of the cot when she heard an abrupt commotion in the room beyond. Surely her captors were not fighting again, she thought dully. It was too much to hope for that they would kill each other and save her the job. After a moment there came the sweetest sound that she had ever heard – the broad round vowels and gentle rise and fall of Michael's Brummy accent now raised in furious anger. She dragged herself to her feet by sheer force of will, one hand pressed firmly against her lips in an effort to muffle her sobs of pain, and stumbled across the rough concrete floor to the door. Once there she leant against the peeling and cracked wood, grateful for its solidity and support; her head swam alarmingly. She peered through a crack in the damaged door to see into the room beyond. Father Hughes was stood about 10 feet from her cell with his back towards her. Beyond him was Michael, his usually composed face twisted in hatred. His gun was pointed at Hughes' head.

'Think you can kill me boy?' The priest said. 'You don't have the balls. You're a weak willed little pikey bastard that no one has ever given a damn about.' Hughes' voice dripped with disdain.

Michael seemed to shrink in on himself, the damaged child beginning to overwhelm the resolute man. Arabella watched as his the gun dipped lower and lower until it was down by his side. Please Michael, she whispered to herself, we practiced this. You can do it. I know you can. Please don't let him win.

'I can do whatever I want to you', Hughes continued. 'And you won't do a thing to stop me. Just like when you were a pathetic whining little child. And you know why?' The priest strode towards Michael, chin thrust forward aggressively, until his face was mere inches from the young man's. 'It's because without me and what I've given you, you're nothing. '

Arabella looked on in desperation as Michael gave way entirely to his fearful memories of his time with the Brotherhood. Then she saw Eddie creeping silently up behind him. Michael was entirely trapped in his childhood memories and didn't notice Eddie's presence until he smacked him over the head with the butt of his gun. Michael's own weapon skittered across the floor towards her.

'Where are the rest of them?' Hughes demanded.

'Working their way round from the back, sir', Eddie replied promptly. 'This one just didn't want to wait.'

'Stupid Pikey fuck.' Hughes looked down at Michael with disgust. 'Get him in to the back room where the woman is. Quickly'.

Eddie turned to pull a half-dazed Michael to his feet. At this point both Eddie and Hughes had their backs to Arabella. With their attention momentarily diverted Arabella knew she had to take her chance. She burst from her cell sliding painfully across the broken floor as she lunged for Michael's discarded gun. Cocking and raising the weapon in one smooth moment Arabella shot Eddie in the back of the head. She had no time for fear, no time for contemplation, and no time for a second shot but this last action at least proved unnecessary. The shock of the blast seemed to rouse Michael from his stupor. Pulling a flick knife from his jacket pocket, he launched himself at Father Hughes, screaming incoherently as he forced the priest to the ground and began to stab him repeatedly in the neck and chest. Eventually he drove the blade up through the prone man's throat and into his spine; the priest lay still. For an endless moment there was nothing the ragged sounds of Michael and Arabella's breathing in the dimly lit, blood spattered room. Then the three Blinders burst through the door, guns drawn. They took in the sight in some confusion. Sid was the first to react.

'What the bloody fucking hell has been going in here?'

Ignoring the three men, Arabella half hopped, half staggered over to Michael and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. He started, as if noticing the presence of other people for the first time, and looked up at her. Beneath the gouts of blood spattered across his face his eyes were wide with shock and horror. He began shivering frantically as his body reacted to the massive adrenaline spike.

'It's over Michael. You've saved me and you've stopped Hughes from ever hurting anyone else again. You were very brave.' She spoke to him soothingly like a mother trying to comfort a child who had just awoken from a nightmare, stroking his blood soaked hair gently as she did so. Looking at the other men she added. 'We need to get to a phone. Please tell me you have a car nearby.'

One of them shrugged, trying to avoid looking at her bruised and swollen face. 'We left it back by the main road. Let's just take Hughes' car. I'll be quicker. There's a place with a phone about ten minutes away. Finn's waiting for our call.' He knelt down next to the priest's corpse and began to ferret around for his keys. 'Fucking hell mate', he said to Michael conversationally. 'You done a proper number on this bastard, didn't you!'

'Come on, Michael', Arabella said tugging weakly on his suit jacket. 'Help me get out to the car. We need to call the family.'

'It's nearly ten o'clock, Arthur.' John bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet like a boxer waiting for the bell.

'I know.' Arthur combed his fingers through his moustache, eyes fixed on the bulk on the steam engine looming through the darkness.

'We have to do it now, Arthur.'

'I said I know! Get going now John. I'll detonate the charges.'

John looked at his oldest brother half angry and half despairing. 'We do this together or not at all.'

When the call from Michael came, Finn dropped everything and ran as fast as he could to where his older brothers were waiting. He was close enough that when the blast happened he could feel the scorch of the flames across his face. As he stared at the scene of devastation, chucks of glowing metal and scraps of charred paper began to fall all around him. He wanted to cry. He'd been to Sunday school and he knew that this was the way the world ended.