The Brat
by Anthony MilliganPublish: May 15, 2020Crime Fiction Suspense Mystery Action & AdventureBook Overview
Fourteen-year-old Charlene Keenan discovers a secret that marks her for murder. A member of an underclass of children, used and abused by unscrupulous people, she is unloved and uncared for, an unwanted brat.Dawson Jukes, an over-the-hill ex-mercenary suffering PTSD finds Charlene cold and alone on a dark moorland road running for her life. Read on:
The Brat
Dawson Jukes felt utterly drained; it had been a long, hard day, the woman had whined his whole shift long, her every pronouncement beginning with ‘hey, I want…’ or ‘hey, I need…’ or ‘hey, go get me…’ with never a please or a thank you.
The Merc ate up the miles. Another twenty minutes and he’d be home. Dawson took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Be calm, he told himself it’s over now and there’s an old single malt waiting.
He switched on cruise control now that he was on the long empty stretch of moorland road and hit the Jazz FM button. The car filled with soft notes as a decadent saxophone wailed and a muted trumpet wept softly in the background. A woman with a velvet voice started a Blues-in-the-night number. He felt the tension of the last fourteen hours begin to drain away.
A momentary flash of white on the furthest reach of his headlights brought Dawson to full alertness. So fleeting was the movement that, at first, he doubted himself. A bare leg? Surely not. There was a foot, though, a small white foot rolling into the ditch, wasn’t there?
He braked hard, switching his headlights to main beam, craning forward to the windscreen. Nothing.
Dawson dismissed it as a trick of his exhausted brain. A rabbit, man, you’re too damn tired. He was pressing the accelerator when from behind a tuft half of a small pale face appeared then ducked instantly. In that split-second he recognised terror.
He stopped ten metres short of where he believed he’d seen the apparition. Leaving the headlights on, Dawson walked slowly along the edge of the road. ‘Hey,’ he called down into the ditch ‘whoever you are come out. I won’t harm you.’ There was no response from the deep darkness.
Returning to his car, he retrieved a torch from the glove box. Walking slowly back Dawson illuminated the deep ditch with the bright, narrow beam. He heard a frightened yelp and a scrabbling sound, a young girl scurried up onto the road and turned to face him. She was stark naked.
