Page 76 of Savage Protector

I rattle the handle and apply my shoulder for good measure. “Nope, I wouldn’t say so.”

“Can’t be classed as breaking and entering, then.” He drags out his phone to call Rome. “We’re going in the front. Make sure no one nips out the back way, mate.” He pockets the device then grins at me as he hops back down from the wall. “On three, then?”

The battered old door is no match for the combined efforts of both our size tens. It flies open with a clatter of splintering wood to hang crazily from one hinge. We step inside.

“This place is a fucking midden.”

Tony’s not wrong. The stink is awful, stale air, rotting food, and if I’m not mistaken, human excrement. How can anyone live here, let alone the fastidious, oh-so-proper Shahida Malik who I remember?

“What the fuck is going on?” I breathe.

“I vote we get the kid and get out,” is Tony’s contribution, and I have to agree before we all suffocate.

“She was in there, wasn’t she?” I’m already heading to the one door to the right of the stairs. I enter the front room and find myself as confused as Tony was regarding the purpose of the pile of soiled cushions and upholstery in the middle of the room. It could be a sofa, I suppose, at a pinch.

The only other furniture is a sideboard with one leg missing. It wobbles on the remaining three and a house brick. The fireplace is empty; the entire place feels chilled despite the relatively mild weather outside. I doubt it’s been heated in years.

The kid hasn’t shifted an inch since we entered. A pair of haunted eyes follow our every move, but there’s no sound, no response to us at all apart from that unwavering stare.

I crouch in from of her. Him? “Are you Sarah?”

No answer.

“I’m Zayn. This is my friend, Tony. We’re here to see your mum. Shahida.”

Nothing.

“Is anyone else here?” I ask, already pretty certain that the kid was alone.

A crash from the back of the house heralds the arrival of Rome and Beck. The kid starts but just clutches the grimy cushion harder. They join us in the front room.

“Ah, who do we have here?” Beck wonders, dropping to his haunches beside me. “Hi, honey. What’s your name?”

She does at least focus on him and appears to be considering his question.

Beck produces a pair of sticks of gum from his pocket and offers one to her. “Fancy joining me, honey?”

One small, grubby hand snakes out to take the chewing gum, but she doesn’t seem to know what to do with it next. Beck helps out by peeling off the wrapper and handing it back to her.

“Mint,” he tells her. “My favourite.”

“I’m going to check out the rest of the place,” Tony murmurs. “You and the Pied Piper here can try and coax her out.”

“We think it’s a girl, then?”

“Of course it’s a girl,” Beck scoffs. “And a sweetheart at that. We’re good friends already, aren’t we, princess?”

“How old are you, love?” I try.

Her mouth moves, but I can’t catch any words.

Beck leans in closer, then turns to me. “She’s ten.”

“She looks younger,” I comment. A lot younger…

“She can’t be Sarah, can she? Sarah Malik? Or would that be Alahi?”

Another whispered conversation follows, before Beck turns to face us. “Yes, her name is Sarah Alahi.”

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