Blood Prize by Ken Grace Read Free Book Online Page A

bitterly.
    Her heart and the stupid watch held an unwanted bond; neither seemed to work after the death of her parents.

Chapter Seven
    T om stood in the shadows, taking in every detail of the tenement houses lining each side of his street. Every home looked identical on Queen’s Avenue. He couldn’t see a single street number under the layers of grime. Only subtle differences of filth announced each residence to their owner.
    He felt tired; anxious. He needed to confront the people masquerading as his parents; he needed answers and he couldn’t wait any longer. Keeping alert for possible danger, he eased out into the sunlight towards the gutter, but hesitated as a car jerked to a halt in front of him; the rear doors flying open as several men jumped from inside. Within seconds, they surrounded him, blocking any chance of escape.
    They know already? How?
    Waves of adrenalin surged through his body. He felt like a trapped animal; panicked; desperate for a means of escape, then he heard a voice coming from the dark interior of the vehicle.
    “My name is Frederick Vogel. I’m assisting the Special Religious Police with their investigation.”
    “Yeah, so what?”
    “So, either you get into this vehicle right now, or you suffer the consequences. One way or another, you’re coming with me.”
    For a brief moment, the police waited, as did the man in the car. Windows opened all along Queen’s Avenue and people began to gather on the pavement.
    “Get in Fox. I’m not going to ask you again.”
    Tom noticed a tough looking man alight from another vehicle and strut towards him.
    “Piss off. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
    Their moment of bargaining ceased. Surrounded and outnumbered, Tom gave up any notion of a possible escape. He took two quick steps to evade the nearest policemen and climbed into the car.
    As they drove away, he noticed the crowd of people on the street. With the SRP vehicle a safe distance away, they jeered and shook fists at the air.
    Very brave … Thanks for your help.
    They travelled west through the mid-morning traffic along the M4, which allowed Tom some time to consider his current circumstances. His demise appeared the most likely scenario. Death via the noose, or delivered by a sinister woman with auburn hair; either way, he could see no future. He shuddered; overwhelmed by a feeling of terror.
    “What’s this about? Why the hell have you picked me up?”
    Vogel turned towards the policeman on Tom’s right.
    “Shut him up.”
    The policemen slapped the back of Tom’s head with the palm of his hand; creating an explosion in his brain and a gush of nausea.
    Tom glared back at the man in charge.
    “Asshole.”
    This time Vogel twisted around in his seat and returned the young man’s stare. The eye contact made Tom feel uncomfortable. Just one look into Vogel’s indifferent grey irises confirmed his opinion.
    This one’s dangerous in the extreme. I’ll have to be careful.
    “What do you want from me?”
    Vogel didn’t answer for some time.
    “Officer. What did I tell you?”
    A fist cannoned into the side of Tom’s head, causing pain and disorientation, and a detached feeling in the brain.
    “No more talking.”
    Their tyres screeched. Tom bounced off the shoulder of a policemen as their vehicle veered off the motorway, heading south through Harlington and into an area being suffocated by pollution-puffing factories and smoke stacks.
    Tom noticed a road sign with the heading: ‘Heathrow’, but as he twisted around attempting to read the rest of it, the driver braked hard, throwing him forward against the front seat. They seemed to have arrived at their destination. Tom followed everyone’s gaze to the warehouse at the end of the driveway. It looked dilapidated. Every window appeared to be broken and rust covered most of the tin surface of the building.
    “Get out and follow me.”
    Vogel strode ahead and entered the building first, followed by Tom and the three remaining men.