The Deadly Game

The Deadly Game by Jim Eldridge Page B

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Authors: Jim Eldridge
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smiled. ‘Working dogs are very close to their masters, and vice versa. They’ll kill for them. Now . . . do you hand over the book, or do I get Woody to tear you apart and I’ll search through the pieces?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t think the people who are paying me mind if there’s blood on it when I hand it over.’
    ‘I haven’t got it,’ said Jake desperately.
    Andy shook his head.
    ‘Don’t try that with me, Jake,’ he said. ‘You’ve just told me you have. So why mess about and get hurt? Just hand it over, and that’s it. We’ll call it a day. After all, you can always find another one.’
    ‘I can’t,’ said Jake. ‘I need it. This book is the only way to get someone’s who’s very important to me back here. Without it, we’re sunk.’
    Andy sighed.
    ‘If that’s the way you want to play it,’ he said. And he gave the same low whistle again, longer this time, and this time the dog growled deep in its throat, and then suddenly leapt up at Jake, snapping at the back of his head. Jake threw himself forward, but he felt the dog’s hot breath and the saliva on his hair.
    Andy made a clicking sound with his tongue and Woody settled back down.
    ‘He’ll tear your scalp off and then your face,’ said Andy. ‘Save yourself the pain, I would. Give it up. And don’t think about running. Woody will catch you, he’s fast.’
    He saw Jake shoot a glance out at the rows of lorries parked up.
    ‘And don’t think you can hide in that lot. You saw yourself how good Woody’s sense of smell is. He’ll find you. Now . . . hand it over.’
    Jake hesitated, then asked, ‘How do I know you won’t set the dog on me after I’ve given it to you?’
    ‘Because it won’t be necessary,’ said Andy. ‘I’m not interested in hurting you for the sake of it, I’m only interested in getting my hands on the rest of the money. You give me the book. I leave you here and drive off. You can get a lift from someone, or phone a taxi, or whatever. I don’t care. All I want is the book.’
    Jake sagged in the passenger seat, a defeated look on his face.
    ‘OK,’ he said. He tapped the front of his jacket. ‘It’s strapped to my chest.’
    ‘A good hiding place,’ said Andy. ‘Now, take it out and hand it over. And remember, no tricks. Woody’s just behind you, and he’s very fast.’
    Jake nodded. He unzipped his jacket, and then started to unbutton his shirt, fumbling as he did.
    ‘Faster,’ said Andy.
    ‘The dog makes me nervous,’ complained Jake.
    ‘That’s why he’s here,’ said Andy. ‘Come on, hurry up.’

Chapter 18
    Jake undid another button, and suddenly he swung to his left and pressed down on the door handle and threw himself out of the car. Immediately, he heard Andy whistle, and the dog growl fiercely. He saw a blur of fur hurtling towards him from the back of the car, saw the dog’s open mouth, his fangs threatening in the ambient light, the dog’s front paws hitting the ground.Then Jake slammed the door hard.
    There was a sickening crunch of metal on bone, and a howl of pain from the dog. Then Jake was running, heading for the rows of trucks. Behind him he heard a car door open, but there was no sound of the dog coming after him, just a continuous howl of pain.
    ‘I’ll get you!’ came the enraged shout from Andy.
    By then, Jake had reached the first of the rows of lorries, and he dodged in between two of them.
    He made his way between the massive trucks, searching desperately for a loose tarpaulin that meant he could climb up and hide, but most were fastened securely. Others were tankers, with no place to conceal himself. Then he saw one open flatbed truck piled with palettes. Quickly, he hauled himself up, and crawled in between the stacks of palettes.
    He heard the sound of a car boot slamming shut, and then Andy calling out angrily: ‘I’m going to kill you for what you did to Woody!’
    Jake peered out and saw Andy heading for the lorries. Something metallic glinted in

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