Closure

“The Unsolved Murder of Anna Newly”

7th April, 2004

Torrential rain lashed down the dank alleyway. There was a distant hum of traffic. A wild cat hissed and leapt off a row of metal bins as a sudden explosion in the sky seeped back to form Finn, who hurtled down and slammed hard into the bins, before dropping into a murky puddle - splosh!

Finn rolled onto his back and grimaced. He was in agony. Shaking off the pain, he got to his feet and looked up and down the alleyway. He was confused, lost and scared. Sliding down the saturated wall, he rested. Then, the tattoo on his arm caught his eye and he muttered, “J Finn, murder, eleven, eleven, nineteen twenty six?”

Suddenly, Finn’s brown eyes dilated and he threw his head back in piercing agony...

Rat-a-tat-a-tat!

In a cloud of bloody dust, Jenna crashed to the ground. Her head dropped back, striking the cold floor to reveal her cold, dead eyes...

Sinking to his knees, Finn blinked off the returning memory, opened his eyes and got to his feet. With Jenna’s face still fresh in his eyes, he ran towards the neon lights of the city ahead and vanished into the shadows.

The wild cat spat again. Suddenly, shadows distorted and formed humanoid shapes. The Takers were back!

Task Agent March looked back at her men, “Lock and load!” then cast her eyes towards the city.

It was a rowdy bar, somewhere in the city. It was packed to the rafters with sex hungry youngsters that drank too much and said nothing of value.

Pumping, ear-splitting music drowned out the demons in Finn’s head. He sat at a corner table in the dark, smoking a cigarette and toying with a glass of scotch. He looked through the maze of sweaty people at Anna Newly; a good looking girl with a heart to match, and her best friend, Bethan Keats; just as sweet and sexy, flirting with some young stud at the bar. He threw his arm over Anna’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. She threw a playful look at Bethan and smiled. Bethan shook her head and took another drink of Tequila. She didn’t like Tequila. The young stud then walked into the sea of dancers, alone.

Finn took his eye off Anna and watched as the young stud vanished. He then threw a look back over at the bar, but Anna and Bethan had disappeared! “Shit!” Knocking back the scotch, Finn got up and hurriedly forced his way through the wall of people towards the EXIT.

The city square was scattered with late night drinkers. Finn spilled out of the bar and pushed through two intoxicated girls, clocking Anna and Bethan getting into the back of a parked E Type Jaguar, “Son of a...”

The Jaguar set off. Finn cursed himself and ran down the street towards the busy main road, dragging out of map of the city as he went. Scanning the map, he noted the location of the impending murder (woodland and a nearby farm circled in red marker pen), before setting his sights on the stream of traffic ahead.

The traffic lights switched from amber to red. A row of vehicles stopped... a car, a motorbike.

Finn drew his pistol and ran out into the road, thrusting the weapon at the petrified biker, “Get off!” The biker leapt off his bike and Finn jumped on, shooting him a look, “Thanks!”

“Fuck you!” snapped the biker, as Finn sped down the main road on the stolen motorbike, swerving passing and oncoming traffic like a snake through tall grass.

A narrow, muddy lane cut through the dark, rain soaked woods. The E Type Jaguar was parked on the lane, splattered with muck.

A stick thin man, head obscured by a ragged hood that made him look like the Reaper, punched Anna in the face with a clenched fist and knocked her to the rugged ground. She was out cold and bleeding. Bethan screamed and tried to run, but the ‘hooded’ man grabbed her by the scalp, pulled her to the ground and hit her over and over again until she stopped fighting. Smack, smack, smack!

Dragging Bethan by her ankles over to his Jaguar, he stuffed her limp body into the boot and slammed the lid, drowning out her cries for help.

Staggering through the undergrowth with Anna slung over his shoulder, the ‘hooded’ man wormed his way through the spider-web of branches towards a small clearing.

The motorbike shuddered to a stop as it hit the muddy lane. Finn leapt off and ran into the maze of trees, grabbing the Red Eye.

The ‘hooded’ man arrived at the clearing and dumped Anna onto the ground. He stood over her, titling his head like a curious dog. Then, he pulled out a knife. Anna started to come around and rolled onto her chest. She was dazed and scared. She tried to crawl away.

“Now where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” he said, casually following Anna, as she dragged her bones through the dirt and staggered to her feet. Stepping up behind her, he grabbed her by the throat. Anna choked. He tackled her back onto the ground and raised the knife above his head...

Hidden in the night, Finn watched the ‘hooded’ man through the Red Eye, waiting to witness Anna’s murder. The ‘hooded’ man’s icy breath washed over Anna as he moved in for the kill. Finn poised his finger on the camera, “Show me your face, you son of a...” Suddenly, the Red Eye screen was obscured by a blanket of darkness! Finn lowered the Red Eye and looked up to see an oncoming Taker, pistol aimed at his head.

The blade stabbed down! Anna’s dying screams echoed around the wood.

Finn had failed to document the murder.

The Taker opened rapid fire and a stream of bullets ripped chunks out of the tree at Finn’s side –rat-a-tat-a-tat! – forcing him to dive for cover and scramble into a run.

The ‘hooded’ man pulled the knife out of Anna, as the gunfire echoed around the woods. He looked back and saw three Takers racing towards him. “Shit!” Stumbling back and tripping over Anna’s corpse, he scrambled back onto his feet and raced into the darkness. The leading Taker took aim – about to fire!

“Leave him!” Task Agent March rushed up to the Taker, who lowered his rifle, “He’s not who we’re here for.”

Finn raced through the woods, pursued by a Taker. A barrage of gunfire forced Finn to hurl himself into a chaotic roll into the sharp undergrowth. The Taker stopped running and scanned the area. Finn had vanished.

Task Agent March and two Takers stood at the back of the E Type Jaguar. March dragged off her head guard and popped the boot. She looked down at Bethan, shivering and sobbing hysterically inside, “Take her to the farm.”

A Taker slammed down the hatch and jumped into the driving seat of the Jaguar, while March scanned the woods. “See you soon, Finn.”

Behind the cover of trees, Finn watched as the Taker that chased him reported back to March, but was too far away to hear them. March and the Taker then got into the back seat of the Jaguar and closed the doors. The Jaguar roared to life and set off down the narrow lane.

Finn cursed himself and looked at his watch. Time was running out and his best shot at putting this whole sorry mess right was in the boot of that car.

Under a sea of brooding clouds was an isolated farmhouse, far away from the city.

An old and weather hardened Farmer stood at the sink washing dirty dishes and missing his wife.

Crack! A sharp dart cut through the window pane and stabbed into his neck, throwing him down onto the kitchen table. He clutched his neck and started to convulse. Then, he passed out. The front door burst open and March charged into the kitchen. She looked at the catatonic Farmer and lowered her weapon.

Two Takers entered with Bethan hooked between their arms, head drooped and feet dragging, and dumped her on a chair – locking her wrists together behind her back with handcuffs that fed through the wooden bars of the seat. Running a tap and filling a glass with water, March stepped over to Bethan and lifted her head, trying to make her drink. Dazed and beaten, Bethan resisted. March sighed, “C’mon – drink it.”

Bethan turned away and saw the crippled Farmer, two Takers with guns and then March towering over her. She muttered, “Please, don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you – I promise. Now drink.” Bethan took a sip of water and looked up at March. Sudden panic!

“Anna?”

“I’m sorry... She’s dead.”

Bethan was distraught, “No!” Her hands pulled on the bars and the handcuffs dug into her wrists. Tears streamed down her face. She shook her head and yelled, “Let me go, let me go! Please, let me go!”

March shook her head, “Not until this ends.”

“Let me go!”

Bethan’s yell echoed out into the icy night, where a forth Taker was patrolling. Suddenly, something in the distance caught his eye. He went to investigate.

Task Agent March looked out of the window, her trigger finger twitching. The front door burst open and the fourth Taker rushed inside. March and the other Takers refrained from firing, as he turned to face his leader and spluttered, “He’s coming!” The fourth Taker then ran back into the porch. Two Takers locked their rifles and followed him. Suddenly, the fourth Taker spun around and opened fire on them – blam, blam!

Both Takers crashed back onto the kitchen floor, squealing in agony, as March ran over to Bethan and put her gun to her head.

Using the porch as cover, the fourth Taker fired blindly at March. Blam! The shot jabbed March in the shoulder and pinned her to the wall – slam! As March slid down the wall, the fourth Taker charged towards Bethan, now screaming and pulling on the handcuffs, trying to break free. Raising his gun, the forth taker fired and blew the handcuff chain apart, releasing Bethan. He then swiftly booted March in the head, turned to look at Bethan and dragged off the head guard. It was Finn. He grabbed Bethan’s arm, “Run!”

Bleeding and moaning, March struggled to her feet and grabbed her pistol, as Bethan and Finn rushed out of the farm.

Racing over to the Jaguar, Finn swung open the door and looked at Bethan, “Get in!”

‘Screw that’, thought Bethan, as she tried to break free from his grip. Only Finn was stronger and quickly manhandled her into the car. Suddenly, a dazed March fell out of the doorway and fired a shot at the car. Blam! It shattered the back window – smash! Finn leapt into the driving seat and slammed the door.

As glass scattered the car, Bethan shielded her head and yelled, while Finn fired up the engine and hit the accelerator. The Jaguar rocketed down the lane.

March dropped her pistol and slid down the doorway frame, clutching her shoulder. She looked pissed and hurt. Snatching a Wiper Bomb off her belt, she tried to snap it, but failed. She passed out.

The Jaguar swerved down the narrow lane, almost flipping as it skid a corner.

Finn spun the wheel and glanced at Bethan – in shock – and then at the countdown window: 19:23:04!

He looked again at Bethan. “Are you okay?”

She sneered back at him, “No!”

Finn frowned and set his sights on the road ahead, “Stupid question!”