Chapter 61: Elliot - The Foster Child

I push open the door of the garage and stand still, listening, my left hand holding the torch I’ve just taken from the kitchen wall, my right hand holding the small, sheathed knife I’ve had concealed in my pocket all day. It’s pitch-black inside and terror threatens to overwhelm me. I force it down and take a deep breath. I can handle this. I have to. I shine the torch around, listening, watching. I have to be prepared for anything. This is the day the cards say I’m going to be killed.

I can see that the front garage door is closed but it’s too dark to make out anything else. Needles of terror are pricking my skin as I step further inside, switch the beam on full power and shine it around, making sure I light up all the corners of the vast double garage. There are plenty of places in here for someone to lie in wait. Although I can’t see how anyone could have got in past that new security system.

Cautiously, I step inside, the fuse box is on the back wall which means I’ll have to turn my back on the rest of the garage. I’m not going to do that until I’m sure no one is here.

My ears prick up as I hear a noise behind me. Heart beating a drum in my chest, I swivel around and shine the torch over at the workbench along the side wall, where I keep my tools, then underneath it. Nothing.

I walk stealthily over to my car, listening and watching. If someone has managed to sneak in then they could be hiding behind, or at the side of it, waiting to pounce.

I shine the beam alongside the Merc, then underneath it.

Nothing.

I’m positive I heard something.

I listen carefully, moving the torch all around the garage. It’s all quiet.

I must have imagined it.

There’s no sign that anyone has been in here so it’s either an electrical fault or a problem with the electricity supply.

I make my way past the tool bench to the fuse box, holding the knife in my hand. I pause and illuminate the garage with the torch beam again. Nothing.

I turn off the torch and wait for a couple of minutes, holding my breath, listening. Satisfied that no one is here, I switch the torch back on and turn around to open the fuse box.

There’s an array of switches inside. I sweep the beam over them then pause.

The main breaker switch is down. So it is a fault then. What’s caused that?

I reach out to push it back up again when I hear footsteps behind me. I spin around, gripping the knife and see a menacing figure right behind me, arm raised, brandishing one of my wrenches.

‘I’ve got a knife, so step back, you bastard,’ I growl, shining the torch right in his face. He’s dressed in black and wearing a black balaclava. ‘Too much of a coward to show your face, eh?’ I snarl. I’m back to Lee living on the streets, fighting for survival, knowing that I daren’t show any sign of fear if I want to outwit this man.

‘Have you said your prayers?’ The voice is muffled, mocking, but there is something familiar about it. Who the fuck is it?

I raise my hand with the knife. ‘Step away from me or I swear I’ll stab you.’

He steps back then suddenly rushes forward and head butts me, knocking me into the wall. My head smashes against it and I slide to the floor. I curse myself as the knife falls out of my hand, I should have expected him to trick me.

My head is spinning. I have to focus. Fight. He intends to kill me.

He jumps on top of me and I bring my knees up against his chest, kicking him off. I stagger to my feet but his arm sneaks out and grabs my foot and I’m crashing to the floor again.

‘You’ve got no chance, old man,’ he sneers as he pins me down.

I wriggle out of his grasp but then he brings his arm holding the wrench crashing down and it all goes black.