Sweet Sixteen: Part. 22

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Josh stared at me with a determined eye, "That ain't gonna happen, our heads will stay on our necks, Benita." He thrust his hand out, "Give me the other phone," he said.

He pressed it on and looked intently at the screen, "YES! We have a signal," he said, thumbing it hard.

"Who you phoning?" I asked.

"Clara."

"What can she do? She's just a frightened girl?"

He slammed the phone to his ear, "She can bring me my gun, our sure fire way out of here without involving the law," he said.

A sudden flashing light alerted us and we both spun to look in its direction. The light flashed incessantly from the far corner of the large space. "HELLO, is that you Clara?" Asked Josh, as the light suddenly stopped. Her voice was frightened, weak and whispered, "Yes, it is me."

But her voice didn't come from the phone. No, it came from the room, from the space where the light flashed.

"She's in here, with us," I said. Josh called out, "Clara, where are you?"

"Over here," she said, the fear in her voice was palpable. I draped myself round Josh's shoulder and I hopped with his help, to the space from where her voice came.

In the far corner of the room was a recess, with prison like bars from floor to ceiling. Josh shone his phone in and Clara gazed at us, resignation in her eyes.

Clara sat curled up at the back of the cell like room. She looked just like the first time I saw her, huddled in the dark stairwell of Paddock Field. Back then I'd been with Dylan; the guy whom I thought would save her and I from this, instead he'd drawn us all into it, like a moth to a flame.

A sudden sinister thought hits me and I reacted almost violently by hopping away from Josh and hoisting up a vicious looking skull with sharp horns, "I swear Joshua, if you're in on all this, I'll kill you," I screamed, brandishing the skull threateningly.

He walked slowly toward me, his head bowed, "Look me in the eye, you low life traitor," I said, hoisting the skull, ready to strike him.

He stopped, but continued to look down, like a guilty guy unable to make eye contact.

'Should I strike him?' I asked myself, is this what I must do to save myself? "DON'T DO THAT – PLEASE!" Shouted Clara, who clung to the bars of her cell, desperately clawing for freedom.

My eyes caught hers and she pleaded, "Don't hurt him, he is a very good person, a beautiful human being who we must preserve," she said, softly.

Guilt racked my body and I threw the skull on the concrete floor with force. I watched it shatter and when it settled into broken pieces I heard Josh say, "You doubted me, Benita."

My eyes met his and I said, "I did."

He nodded, "That's understandable. When our trust is betrayed, we doubt everything and everybody."

I felt totally shitty, "I'm so sorry," I said, shamefully.

"No, don't be sorry. I doubted you, truth is I still do have doubts," he said.

I shot back defensively, "What, you doubt me; you think I'm part of all this?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "You could be, how do I know?"

I pointed toward Clara, "What about her, do you doubt her?" I asked.

He answered with confidence, "I trust Clara, I know her story, I've rescued girls like her before. Girls, oppressed and controlled by false demons, smuggled into London to be used and exploited by the worst of humanity. Clara's legit, that much I know."

A bubble of anger and a jolt of jealousy collided in the pit of my stomach. I suppressed the jealousy, but I couldn't hide the anger, "That's so unfair, you know I'm not part of this," I shouted.

He shrugged his shoulders again, "I hope you're not." He looked down at the broken skull, "But that gives me some confidence in you," he said.

"How, why?" I asked.

He picked up both horns and handed me one, "You could have killed me with this, correction, you were going to kill me with this," he said.

"NO, NO, I wasn't, I promise," I pleaded, desperate for him to believe in me.

"You were, and that's a good thing because you were defending yourself against me, which implies you're not in on this." He smiled, "I trust you, Benita." He turned serious, "But don't ever call me Joshua again," he said, breaking into a warm smile.

My head was spinning with thoughts, not least the fact that I was trapped and in danger of losing my life, yet I was giving headspace to petty jealousies.

I snapped back into our reality and rushed to Clara, "How'd you get here?" She didn't hesitate, "I was frightened when I found the black feather, so I left the apartment and they were waiting for me. Three men pushed me into a car and drove me here," she explained.

"Did you recognise them?" Asked Josh.

"No, they put cloth around my eyes."

"What did they say," I asked.

"They spoke in a language I could not understand," she said.

Josh stepped forward, "Have you seen Dylan?" He asked. When he spoke with Clara, I noticed it was with a different tone to me. He spoke in a lower key, and without the South London street edge that he had when he spoke to me.

"Yes, Dylan is here. He is the Pastor in charge of deliverance. He will be conducting the large ceremony in which we three will be offered up," she said, without fear, but with a resigned acceptance.

THEN DYLAN APPEARED – just like that – from nowhere – he stood behind Clara – bathed in the strange blue light.

Josh and I looked at each other and I mouthed, "How?" He didn't answer, instead he moved toward the bars, "Your getting good at these magic tricks, Dylan," he said.

"It's all real, you doubters will soon believe it," he said calmly.

Joshua moved in closer, "You should get out of here bruv, and get on TV, Britain's Got Talent; you could be the new Dynamo, he's getting old, now."

Dylan reacted with anger, "It's Pastor Dylan, to you, drop the bruv!"

Joshua remained calm, "Come Pastor Dylan, come out here and fight me. Man to man, fist to fist, fair and square, bruv," he said, without a hint of anger.

Dylan laughed, his soft sweet chuckle, the giggle that had me so, so fooled, "That's not Pastor Dylan's style, I don't fight mortal men, my fight is with a bigger force," he said.

Joshua looked at me, "Can you smell that bullshit, Benita?"

I hobbled over to Josh and resting myself against him, I looked Dylan in the eye, "I believed in you; your betrayal smells so strong, so wrong," I said, trying to keep the lid on my temper.

Dylan raised his voice, "I did nothing wrong, you offered yourself to me!"

"WHAT? I DID NOT, THAT'S NOT MY STYLE!" I shouted. Josh's hand encircled my waist, squeezing me into him, soothing and calming me in equal measure.

Dylan continued, "You would look at me in the library. You thought I didn't notice, but I saw every one of your lust filled glances, I felt all of the impure thoughts you had about me. Your carnal desires for me were improper. It is you who did all the wrong!" He said.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing and began to shake with rage; it was only Josh's increasing grip on me that stopped me from exploding.

Trying to keep a lid on it, I said, "Dylan, you're not well, you need professional help."

He flicked his hand at me, dismissively, "The night you spent with me at Petal Road, I had to talk throughout the dark hours, to distract you from your sexual desires for me. You are possessed of improper thoughts and like a moth to a flame you found me and brought Joshua and Clara with you, in ofference for your sins. Your soul will be saved, for that you should thank me."

I began to tremble with temper, but again, Josh reigned me in, "So Pastor Dylan, Benita told me that on the first night you met, on Halloween, the Devil himself appeared to you both, in the basement of Petal Road. I'm supposing that was another of your clever magic tricks?" He surmised.

Dylan moved closer and focussed on me, "You know that was real, Benita. And do you remember what he said to you?" He asked.

"No, I don't, but I do know now, it was one of your tricks."

He nodded dismissively, "He said 'I'll get you, one day!' And that day is almost with us. We will give all three of you to Lucifer; he will get you, and your friends, Benita. And believe me, it's for the best."

My rage fell away and I thought of my mum, who was on her date, no doubt laughing and being loved up with my maths teacher, Mr Lacey, unaware of the danger her daughter was in.

My body shook and I began to heave and sob more with frustration than fear.

Josh wiped my tears and his lips brushed my ear as his brave words buoyed and motivated me, "We'll beat him Benita, we have to..."

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