(continued from I.I)

‘You know, you don’t look so good.’ The image of Dragomir standing in front of him swam in front of his vision. ‘Maybe I should help you to the van.’

‘What did you …’

Charlie had the strange sensation that he was half-asleep, as Dragomir supported his weight down the street with Charlie slumped against his shoulder. The world was tilting at an odd angle, the scenes before his eyes spinning in his head. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and though he tried to speak, there was no sense in the mumblings he managed to make.

It was only when they reached a black van with tinted windows, which was idling at the end of the street, that unadulterated panic flooded Charlie’s body and cleared some of the fog in his head.

‘Let me go!’ He thrashed desperately in Dragomir’s grip as the door to the van slid open to reveal three more soldiers crouched inside, grinning viciously at him. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘I hear your boss wants to see you,’ Dragomir hissed in his ear, before shoving Charlie forwards into the waiting hands of the soldiers. ‘You’re in big trouble this time, Carroway.’

Charlie attempted to fight the soldiers off, but it was three against one, and they were far stronger than him, and whatever had caused his muddled state of mind was making all of his movements weak and sluggish. The soldiers overpowered him easily, forcing his hands behind his back and his feet together as they restrained him.

‘I thought they said he would put up a fight,’ one of the soldiers scoffed, as the knots of the ropes tying Charlie’s wrists and ankles were checked, and he was tossed unceremoniously onto the floor of the van. ‘He’d better be more fun than this later.’

From the front passenger seat, Charlie heard Dragomir let out a soft laugh, and forced his head up, only to see Dragomir looking down at him, smirking. ‘I gave him something to help him relax,’ he explained, turning to face forwards again. ‘There’s no need for us to make a scene here. It’ll wear off soon enough. Then we’ll see what he can do.’

‘You fucking bastard!’ Charlie snarled. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Keep him quiet,’ Dragomir ordered, and Charlie felt a length of material being forced into his mouth and tied tightly behind his head. ‘And you,’ Dragomir continued, glaring at Charlie’s furious reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘You best behave, got it?’

‘We taking him back to Faulkner?’ The soldier in the driver’s seat tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, his eyes scanning the street ahead.

‘All in good time,’ Dragomir said, a familiar note of amusement in his voice. ‘We’re going to have some fun with him ourselves first.’

At these words, Charlie steeled himself for what he knew was coming. His head was spiralling so badly that he could not even tell when the van pulled away and started rumbling towards its destination.

There was a memory that kept swirling in front of his eyes. It was a memory of a night many years ago, when he had stood alone in the pouring rain and a hand had reached out from the shadows towards him. Unable to hold his head up any longer, he closed his eyes and let the darkness swallow him up.

‘You gave him too much,’ one of the soldiers said. ‘Looks like it’s knocked him out.’

Dragomir let out a soft laugh. ‘Let him rest while he can. He’s got a busy night ahead.’