Chapter 19

When I reached the buildings, I looked at the main entrance and saw that the massive wooden doors were protected by a rusted metal grill secured to the brickwork with padlocks the size of a melon. I walked to the left and passed three arched windows which were shuttered and protected by similar metalwork grills. There was no access to the front of the building so I walked on, stumbling over lumps of slate and clumps of weeds. I was beginning to think that winging it might not have been the best idea. My mindset was so mixed up that I didn’t really have a plan, but I persevered and retraced my steps. As I passed the main doors, I heard the familiar humming of rotor blades coming from the north. The noise seemed to grow and then fade. The mountains and trees blocked my view of the helicopter but I knew it was up there and would take just a few minutes for it to reach the skies above me.

The windows to the right of the door were fastened in the same fashion. I pushed on and reached the end of the building, before taking a path which led to the rear. A coil of rusted barbed wire blocked my progress and although it was dark, I could make out further rolls of razor wire beyond the first. If I tried to pick my way through, it would cut me to ribbons before I’d made more than a few yards. I couldn’t risk an injury which would need stitching, or a rusty wound which would become infected later on. Hospitals and doctors were beyond my reach. I had to find another way. I walked back the way I’d come and decided to try the second smaller building on the left. It was an unusual shape and from my position, there appeared to be no doors or windows in the front elevation. As I neared the building, I understood why.

A road ran from the turning area to the side of the building, which was in fact a cutting shed and loading bay. There was a large opening on the far side which allowed articulated trailers to reverse into it, so that custom sized slate blocks could be loaded. From the side it looked like a low one-storey building. I was an illusion created by being built into the slope. The road snaked around the building and then dipped beneath it, hence it couldn’t be seen from where I had parked the truck. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best shelter on offer. I had no idea how far away Gaskin lived, or if he would come at all, but I had to act on the premise that he would arrive sooner rather than later. Encouraged, I jogged towards the loading bay entrance which was nothing more than a gaping black maw beneath the building. The road twisted in a sharp u-shape and dropped down steeply. I slowed my pace as I reached the incline, gravity pulled me down the slope where the darkness reached a new level. I literally couldn’t see a thing. I had no choice but to try and use the light from the screen of the mobile. I took it out and pressed the menu button. When the screen illuminated, so did a button on the side of the device. The button read ‘Torch’. I pressed the button a powerful beam of light illuminated the building. God bless JCB for making a mobile which was used by farmers, builders and contractors the world over. Someone somewhere was throwing me a lifeline. Using the phone as a torch, I entered the loading bay with renewed hope.

The road stood a metre below the loading platforms which ran on either side from the front opening, all the way to the rear of the building. Stone steps cut into the platforms on both sides, allowing access for the truck drivers to supervise their loads. I took the steps to my right and climbed up. On the platform, the torchlight revealed tracks which would once have guided an overhead crane. The crane itself had been stripped, along with all the other scrap metal left behind when the quarry closed. At the end of the platform, wooden stairs climbed up to another platform which supported a supervisor’s office. The office spanned the loading bay, three wide windows, long devoid of glass, allowing a panoramic view of the operation below. Plywood hoardings covered the office windows now. If the stairs were intact and I could remove the hoardings, it was the perfect place to observe the niners if they fell for my trap. From there I could see them and cover them with the Mossberg.

My first instinct was to position myself in the office and wait for them to arrive, but the more I thought about it, the more it looked like a dead end with no escape should things go wrong. With that thought in mind, I climbed the ancient wooden staircase. The smell of wet rot drifted to me and the steps had the spongy feel of decay. Each step brought a different creaking sound and the threat of plunging through the wood onto the concrete below hung heavily in my mind. I placed my feet carefully, testing the strength before transferring my weight. Progress was painfully slow but rushing now could end up with me lying helpless with a broken limb, a rat caught in my own trap. I counted thirteen steps to the landing. The door to the office was made from wood; three panels of plywood separated by thicker bars. The handle was missing, either broken off or removed on purpose to deter intruders. The floorboards on the landing groaned as I neared the door. I pushed it with the flat of my right hand and it moved slightly. A heavy barge with my right shoulder rattled the door in its frame and a second blow split the rotten frame near the lock. The door clattered against the wall as it flew open. The torchlight revealed an empty room, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling timbers. A strip light dangled, only one end attached, the wires exposed and the smell of damp and decay pervaded the dank air inside. The right hand side of the room was exposed brickwork; the left side was stud wall with the three boarded windows. I stepped inside towards the nearest window and instantly felt that the floorboards were different. I realised too late that decay had won the battle with the timbers and my right leg disappeared through the floor.