He had screwed his eyes tighter. He wouldn’t look.

He wouldn’t.

‘Please, please.’ He had babbled as he had each time before when they’d made fleeting visits to check on him as he’d sipped Evian from a bottle and forced down dried oatcakes that had clogged in his throat. ‘I won’t tell, I won’t…’

‘Shhh.’

This morning there had been something different in the tone of voice. Something even more terrifying as though something had snapped. He knew, undoubtedly, that he was trapped here with a monster, not a faceless figure like the ones he’d dreamt of when he was small. Someone ordinary. Someone he knows.

They told him what was going to happen later today and something inside him broke in two, and the compliant Ryan of the past few days, the Ryan who believed that if he was good he’d be set free, disappeared.

It was horrific.

Fear shook him hard and the word ‘Help!’ flew from his lips. He screamed over and over again, ‘Help! Help!’

‘Shhh.’

He couldn’t stop screaming, jerking his body as a blindfold was again tied tight around his eyes. Tape covered his mouth.

He couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t see.

He didn’t want to.

‘See no evil, speak no evil.’ The voice soft. Terrifying. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

He wishes he couldn’t hear.

They couldn’t really be planning to...

In shock, he had slipped into sleep.

Now he’s awake again, alone again.

For how long?

Chapter Forty-Two

Connor

Sensations return. Pain throbs. Instinctively, Connor raises his hand and lightly presses his fingertips against his skull searching for a wound, wincing when he finds one. His fingers are sticky, coated with blood, although it’s too dark for Connor to see it. Nausea rises, confusion, fear. He tries to manoeuvre himself to sitting but a sudden bang to his head explodes blinding flickers of light behind his eyes and he flops down onto his back once more.

He is disorientated. Scared. Panic hammering in his chest.

Think.

Gingerly, he reaches out his hands, palms immediately connecting with a solid surface.

A coffin.

‘Help!’ His voice too loud in this tiny space. ‘Help!’ He bangs his fists on the low roof above him, tears leaking from his eyes. His chest heaving. There’s a smell he recognizes. Something chemical?

Petrol?

A slam.

An engine.

The glow of lights.

A sudden movement.

He can hear the pattering of rain. He’s in the boot of a car. He’s not sure how long he’s been unconscious for. Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

Where is he being taken?

He fumbles in his pocket for his phone but it isn’t there. Vague memories charge towards him before disappearing out of reach. He’s not sure if the bump to his head is preventing him from remembering or whether his mind is protecting him from the unimaginable.