The Scribbler by Iain Maitland (life changing books txt) 📕

ran after the car and shot at the two policemen in the front. To stop them taking Mother.” He dipped his head down. “But it was too fast. I missed.”

The two brothers looked at each other.

The smart one stepped forward, put his arm on the other’s shoulder.

“I missed,” the slow brother repeated himself. “And now Mother has gone.”

A silence. Then the slow brother spoke again.

“Why have they taken Mother?”

The smart brother did not answer.

“What will they do with her?”

The smart brother did not reply.

“How will we get Mother back?”

The smart brother looked at the slow brother.

Carrie could sense the helplessness and the despair between them.

“We’ll get Mother back. Don’t worry. I will think of something.”

And he turned and looked at Carrie.

She guessed what had happened. Gayther had come ahead, scouted round. Taken an age to find her. A police car there as back up or arriving when Gayther didn’t return on time, most likely. Two local officers going to the farmhouse. The old woman there telling all or falling ill perhaps. Taken off, either way. Out of the line of the coming fire.

No matter. Carrie knew what came next. After the shots at the car. The police officers already radioing through. For the teams that were always called for in a hostage scenario. Negotiators. Marksmen. For Gayther and her. Except Gayther was dead. And she would be next. Before they even got here. She had no idea what these two brothers would do at any moment.

She looked back at the smart brother and spoke quietly, sensibly. Taking charge. As fast as she could.

“The police will already be on their way now. With dogs. And guns. And helicopters. They will surround the farm. They will move in closer and closer, searching and using sensors to find us in this barn. Then they will give you one chance to come out with your hands up. One chance only. And if you do not take it, they will storm in and shoot you both dead.”

She watched the slow brother look from her to his brother and then back again. She could almost hear him swallowing.

She waited. For the smart brother to respond.

He was about to speak. But she pressed on, saying much the same as before to see what the slow brother might say and do. To set the brothers against each other.

“Give yourself up now. Let me go. I’ve said I’ll speak up for you. You two can wait in the kitchen. In the farmhouse. I’ll make sure they don’t shoot you. I’ll save you. Make certain you get a fair hearing.”

She watched as the slow brother looked at the smart brother. She could win him over, no doubt about that. The promise of a party and a slice of birthday cake, that’s all he needed. This simple, child-like man. The other one was different. A hard man. Difficult to predict what he would do.

The smart brother shook his head.

She tried again.

“Then go, go now. Run into the forest and away. But be quick. They will be here soon and then you will be trapped. Leave me here and run, before they arrive. Save yourself. I’ll say you didn’t hurt me.”

The slow brother looked again from one to the other, and back again. Uncertain what to do.

The smart brother spoke finally in a rising voice.

“I have told you. This is Mother’s home. She has lived here all her life. She does not want to leave it. She wants to die here in her nice warm bed.”

The slow brother nodded. “Yes,” he said, “with us. Her best boys.”

The smart brother agreed. “Her very best boys.”

Carrie came close to shaking her head in disbelief. At the nonsense of it all. The complete detachment from reality. Of what was about to happen to them. To engulf them all.

The smart brother went on. “The police can come here. And they can surround the barn. And they can give us one chance. But I will give them one chance, too. One chance only. To bring Mother back and return her to us here.”

The slow brother nodded, yes, yes, that’s right, that’s what we’ll do.

“And when they don’t?” Carrie asked.

“Then we will stand you by the door of the barn. And we will ask them again nicely. Very nicely. And if they do not bring Mother back, we will shoot you dead.”

The smart brother looked at Carrie unblinking.

The slow brother seemed uneasy, looking from one to the other and back again. Not meeting Carrie’s eye.

Carrie tried to swallow, but found that she couldn’t. She was scared. Whatever he’d said about not hurting women, she knew, from the kitchen, that he would if he thought he had to do so. 27. SUNDAY 18 NOVEMBER, 12.26AM

Carrie sat herself down and edged back along the wall of the barn while the brothers hurried to prepare for the siege. Tense, nervous, yet somehow excited. The slow brother, anyway. Like it was a game of cowboys and Indians. One where nobody died.

The slow brother ran back to the farmhouse for supplies, food, drink, more ammunition. Three times he came and went. Each time saying they’re not here yet, they’re not here yet, they’re not here yet. As if the police would just roll up the driveway, would not think of doing anything less obvious. Might actually be here already, encircling the farm.

The smart brother was quieter, more serious, as if he knew and understood exactly what was coming. He secured the barn as best he could. Pulling the door to and fastening it. Dragging Gayther further to the side. Climbing the rickety staircase to peer out into the night, his gun cocked and ready to use. Like he was a sharp shooter. The sharpest shooter in the town. She’d have laughed to herself if the situation weren’t so desperate.

Carrie studied the barn, taking it all in. Broken down. Wide-open upstairs. Ready to be attacked from all sides.

The thought of a kitchen sieve came to her. Even the wood of the walls