The rage. The familiar rage.
The Golem came towards him. Sandro saw his father’s features imprinted on his opponent’s face.
‘I feel no pain,’ said the Golem. ‘But you will.’
Sandro was ready.
He swung the first blow.
117
Marina ran. In and out of rooms, trying to make out shapes, objects in the dark, trying to find her daughter. Calling all the time, letting Josephina know she was coming for her. That it was all right. Her mother was here.
‘Josie, keep shouting, keep shouting … ’
She did. Calling for her, pounding too. But the calls, the pounding were starting to weaken.
‘Josie … Josie … keep going, keep going … ’
Marina ran into a room at the back of the house. The sound, the smell of the river was strong in there. She could hear it lapping at the foundations, curling underneath her, the wood beneath the floorboards creaking as it did so.
‘Josie … ’
The pounding had been coming from this room. Marina listened, tried to hear it. Couldn’t.
‘Josie … I’m here, Mummy’s here … Tell me, tell me where you are … ’
A thump. Small. Weak.
Marina looked round, scanned the room, eyes now accustomed to the darkness. Checking the rotting furniture, looking for cupboards, anything.
‘Again, darling, do it again … ’
Another thump, even weaker this time.
Another desperate scan of the room. The walls held nothing. Marina looked down, scanned the floor.
And then she saw it.
The trapdoor.
She knelt down, found the metal ring, recessed in the wood. Pulled. It wouldn’t budge. The wood damp and warped.
She pulled harder. Nothing.
Marina felt tears well up within her. Anger, rage and sorrow all built to an emotional crescendo. She wasn’t going to let this happen, she wasn’t …
She pulled again. Put everything she had behind it, every last piece of herself. If she never moved again, it would be worth it to get the trapdoor opened.
It moved. A small amount, but definite movement.
Encouraged, she pulled again, harder this time.
More movement.
She pulled harder, screaming at the top of her lungs.
The trapdoor gave, opened fully.
Marina fell backwards as it did so, letting the heavy wood drop to the floor, the noise echoing round the house, reverberating away to nothing. She got quickly to her knees, looked down into dark space.
And there was her daughter.
Pushed up against the top of the steps, her eyes wide with terror, soaking wet. Marina leaned in and Josie came straight into her arms.
‘It’s OK, it’s OK, Mummy’s here now … ’
She stood up, holding her daughter close to her, tighter than she ever had before, never wanting to let go. Josephina did the same, clinging on for her life. She smoothed her daughter’s matted hair away from her face, wet from the cellar, from tears. She could barely see her through her own tears. There were times she had doubted that she would ever see her again, ever feel her, hear her. But there she was.
‘It’s OK, Mummy’s here, I’ve got you, don’t worry … ’ The words came out in a cascade of relief. She rocked her daughter backwards and forwards as she spoke.
‘Have they hurt you, darling, have they … ’
Muffled against her, Marina felt Josephina shake her head.
‘I wanted you, Mummy … ’
‘I know you did, darling, and I wanted you too.’ She clutched her tighter. ‘I’m here now. And I won’t let anyone take you away again. Ever.’
Josephina didn’t move. Just clung on to her.
Marina dug into her pocket, brought out the tattered, dirty soft toy. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘Lady. I kept her for you … ’
Josephina took it, hugged it to herself.
‘Ah, how sweet.’
Marina turned. Amy had entered the room. Still naked, face a bloodied mask.
And holding the gun.
118
Sandro’s blow connected. The Golem reeled backwards.
‘Gotcha,’ said Sandro, huffing out breaths.
The Golem quickly recovered, looked back at him. Smiled again.
‘You can’t hurt me,’ he said. ‘You can’t kill me.’
Sandro moved round the floor, fists at the ready. Trying to find the right next move, the right combination of blows, the best attack. ‘Is that so? You look like you’re in a bit of a state to me. Like some other fella’s already had a go at you.’
The Golem moved too. Not as light or nimble as Sandro, not a distance fighter like him, just used to relying on his size and the power that came with it for his advantage.
‘Not a state.’ Another laugh. ‘Invulnerable. Invincible. Unbeatable.’
‘Yeah, right, pal.’
Sandro had to admit that there was something behind those words. The dead woman on the floor was testament to that. And the size of him … Sandro had fought some big guys before. And they had been hard fights. The big fellas could throw a punch and get behind it. Make it hurt. He’d had to use every trick he knew just to avoid a beating. And they hadn’t been as big as this one.
He had to win this fight. Because if he didn’t, he would be dead.
The Golem made a move. Faster than Sandro would have expected. He just had time to duck out of the way as the big man’s fist came towards him.
He kept the momentum going, dodged round the side of his opponent, let loose a couple of punches to his ribs. His fingers hurt, it was like hitting a wall, but when he looked at where he had made contact, he noticed blood starting to seep through the other man’s T-shirt.
Result, thought Sandro. Like his arms, he’s got a wound there. A target. Something to aim for.
He swung again. But the Golem was waiting for him. He brought his arm backwards, smacked Sandro in the face, sent him flying. He stumbled backwards, tripped over the body lying on the floor, crashing into the rotted curtain hanging over a window. He tried to grab hold of it to stop his fall, but went down with it in his hands, the curtain pole following.
The Golem, again faster than Sandro would have expected, was on him.
Sandro was trying to wriggle free from the curtain as the Golem brought back his booted foot ready for a kick that would have shattered Sandro’s ribs and taken out at least one of his kidneys. Sandro thought fast. Grabbed the foot as it came towards him. Twisted. Hard.
He heard the terminal creak and snap as cartilage and bone were forced in directions never intended for them. The Golem dropped to one knee. But his features registered no pain. In fact it just seemed to make him angrier.
‘You think that would hurt me? I told you. You cannot hurt me.’
Sandro was momentarily shocked into inactivity. He had expected his move to work. Expected the big man to collapse in agony. Instead, the Golem was back on his feet, his leg twisted, pulling back his fist, readying it to fly.
Sandro turned, scrambled along the floor on his hands and knees to get out of the way. He grabbed the fallen curtain pole to help lever himself to his feet, but the pole snapped in two. He had just got to his feet when the Golem came up behind him, smashed him in the back.
The blow caught him between the shoulder blades, knocked the air from him. He went down again.
The Golem moved in. Turned him over. Knelt over him.
‘You put up a good fight. And I respect that. But now, you die.’
Sandro felt the Golem’s fingers tighten around his throat. Knew he had to do something. Thought fast. He knew the Golem didn’t respond to pain, so there was no point in trying to hurt him. Instead he had to do something physically incapacitating.
The Golem’s fingers were on his neck. Sandro grabbed a thumb with each hand. Bent them back as far as he could. The Golem released his grip slightly, tried to fight him off. Sandro kept on pulling. Felt them snap.