The Final Winter: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel(31)
Nigel put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed; his pinkie ring slid over the fabric of her delicate blouse and stirred deep emotions within him. The gold ring featured a dolphin insignia at its centre and was his most prized possession: a memento of his first victim, a twelve-year-old blonde, pretty, with chubby cheeks like a prepubescent Drew Barrymore. He’d bitten it off her finger as she wailed and squirmed in the back of his lorry. He’d worn the dolphin ring ever since, enjoying the way it felt on his penis as he masturbated over his dying victims.
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” he reassured Steph. “I think whatever’s going on tonight is personal.”
“Personal? You mean ‘the sinner’?”
The word made Nigel swallow a lump in his throat. “Whoever’s out there causing trouble obviously has it in for one of us; but you know what I think?”
Steph shook her head.
Nigel pulled his hand away from her shoulder, already missing the warm throb of her flesh. He picked up his beer and took a deep gulp before placing the near empty bottle down on the bar. “What I think is that this is a tiff over drugs. The only people I know sick enough to smash a kid to pieces and lob him through a window are smack-heads…and guess what? We just happen to have our very own aspiring drug lord right here with us.”
Steph looked across the room at the others then looked back at Nigel. “You think this is all about Damien?”
Nigel shrugged. “He’s the biggest sinner I know. Beat some kid into a coma last year, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know,” Steph admitted. “I heard that too, but whether or not it’s true…”
“Well it’s certainly within his nature from what I’ve seen tonight. He’s been glaring at Harry all night, plus he threw a punch at the Irish fella.”
Steph looked over at Lucas. “What do you make of him?”
“Lucas? It’s strange how he turns up for the first time on a night like this. Maybe he’s the eyes and ears for whoever’s outside. Could be a drug lord looking to come into the area and put Damien out of business. Maybe they’re making their move tonight because they’re hoping the snow will keep the police away.”
“You’re really sure it’s about drugs aren’t you?”
Nigel shrugged. “I don’t know anything for sure. One thing I do know is that if whoever’s out there is looking for a sinner – and that’s not me. I’m a decent, God-fearing man.”
Steph laughed. “Good for you, but I don’t believe anyone’s innocent one hundred per cent. No one’s perfect. It’s where people’s hearts are that matters.”
“That’s a lovely way of seeing the world and it’s no doubt why you’re such a lovely woman.”
“Nigel, you’ll make me blush, you charmer.” She gave him a quick hug around the waist. “I best go check on the others. There are more beers to hand out.”
Nigel laughed. “Vital work, you best get started.”
Steph walked away, leaving Nigel to enjoy the sight of her lithe figure fading into the darkness as she left the candle-light of the bar. He kept his eye on her rump as it wiggled and shifted in her jeans. Nigel felt himself get hard.
Is tonight the night?
Nigel knew how lucky he was to be in the pub tonight. If he was on the road right now he would be fighting hypothermia in the cramped confines of his lorry’s sleeper cabin. He felt even luckier for the opportunity he found before him tonight. The only reason he continued coming to The Trumpet during his days off was to see Steph…or, more truthfully, to stalk her. From the first time he’d seen her alluring presence behind the bar Nigel knew he was going to have her. The more he watched her sexy little ass saunter around the bar, the more certain he became that he needed to have her soon. He’d just been waiting for the right opportunity.
And it’s finally come around.
Tonight was the night. It had to be. The lights were off, the roads were closed, and a group of psychopaths roamed the streets outside. If he did Steph tonight, he could make it look like somebody else’s doing with the slightest of ease. Even if the others were to find out…then he would just have to deal with them. Even if he turned the pub into a blood bath, he could get in his lorry come morning and be a hundred miles away by the time anybody noticed.
Nigel put his hand in his trouser pocket and rubbed at the flick knife pushing against his throbbing erection. He grinned ear to ear.
Yes, my little prize, tonight is most definitely the night.
Chapter Eighteen
“What the hell do we do?”
Harry heard Jess’s voice, but had no answers for her. Peter’s condition was bad, that much was plain to see. He’d remained unconscious since they’d patched him up earlier and his condition had only seemed to get worse since then. His ruined eye was almost certainly lost. Medical attention was desperately needed, but when everyone at the bar tried their mobiles they were met only with static. Steph had found the exact same thing with the pub’s landline. With the snow outside, along with the boy’s attackers, they were stranded, and alone.
“We just need to do the best we can for him, right now,” said Harry. “Then in the morning maybe we can go get help. There’s a main road nearby where we can wait for someone to drive past.” Harry could see the anguish in Jess’s eyes but was powerless to do anything about it. He wasn’t a doctor and could do nothing about the snow either. All the same, he felt like he was letting the poor girl down. Harry just hoped she didn’t see the flaw in his plan: that the main roads were closed and that nobody would be driving by tomorrow, or probably even the next day.