Chapter 1
2017
Gabriel Webb was a killer. He didn’t know it yet, but before the day was out he would know what it felt like to take someone’s life. He turned the music up in his bedroom to drown out the sound of his parents arguing about him. Apparently, he was ‘out of control’ and ‘needed to be taken in hand’. His mother had suggested sending him to live with an aunt in Cheltenham. His father had suggested forcing him to join the army, which ‘might show him how good he had it at home’. All this because Gabriel had shoulder-length hair and occasionally wore eyeliner.
He pulled on his red tartan punk trousers and leather New Rock boots, feeding the laces through the chrome shin panels on the front. Searching through his tops, he tried to decide which one to wear today, which one would be best for what they had planned. His phone beeped and he looked at the screen. An array of emojis all signifying excitement from his girlfriend Emma, listed in his phone as Proserpina, Roman Goddess and Queen of the underworld. He was in her phone as Pluto, the God of Death. Embracing darkness was part of the fun of being a goth. Tonight, they were going to see Apocalyptica, a nu-metal band, in a local club, a rare occurrence in Exeter now that the artisan hipster gin bars had all but taken over the city.
Gabriel pulled on his black wet-look cycling top; it hugged his lean muscular frame and he loved the way Emma looked at him when he was in it. He would catch her eyes resting on his chest as she swallowed hard, suppressing whatever desire his body aroused in her until they were alone. He grabbed the black buckled leather cincher out of his wardrobe and put it on, despite his parents’ voices echoing in his head. A man in a corset? Ridiculous. It wasn’t like it pulled his waist in or anything, it was just a fashion statement – not a nod to his sexuality. He couldn’t worry about what his parents thought though. His clothes were an expression of himself, for himself. It wasn’t about shocking anyone or even about rebelling. It was about feeling good in his skin, and this outfit made Gabriel feel good. He wrapped black electrical tape around his wrists and hands, then picked up the black eyeliner and drew a star on his left cheek. He was ready.
On entering the kitchen, his mother took a deep breath and turned her attention to the kitchen sink. Avoiding being a part of the conversation that was about to happen.
‘What the hell are you wearing?’ Michael Webb, Gabriel’s father, had an expression like thunder, but that wasn’t unusual, it was the standard greeting these days.
‘Clothes.’ Gabriel grabbed an apple and started to eat it. He had a foot on his father, but he was still uneasy. He wouldn’t say what he wanted to say, he never did. It was always better just to let his father rant and then leave anyway.
‘You’re a bloody man – when are you going to start acting like one?’ his father sniped. ‘Who’s going to employ you looking like that? You’re nineteen years old for God’s sake. Isn’t it time to grow up?’
‘A job like yours, you mean?’ Gabriel said. ‘I should be a drone?’
‘My drone job pays for those god-awful trousers you are wearing! I mean what the hell are all those straps and chain things hanging down? What kind of message do you think you’re putting across with those?’ His father tugged hard at the cord that linked the trousers together, ripping it. He looked at Gabriel with a sneer.
Gabriel smiled back with a pinched mouth. He was contemplating punching his father in the face – and not for the first time.
‘Anything else?’ He leaned down closer to his father, locking eyes with him – making sure he didn’t look away first.
The anger in his father’s eyes faltered for a moment.
‘Don’t even get me started on your face. Men don’t wear make-up, and what’s with the star? You look like a fucking communist.’
‘Michael! Language!’ Gabriel’s mother Penny said.
‘I’m off to meet some friends, I’ll probably stay out tonight.’ Gabriel walked out, shaking his head, his father’s insults getting fainter as he got further from the house. It was the most disrespectful he had ever been but he couldn’t tolerate this nonsense today. He was in a good mood and he wasn’t going to let his father ruin it. He was going to see Emma; he had texted her before he left, so she should be waiting outside. She lived three streets over. He had first seen her working in his local supermarket sometimes at the weekends, she’d always stood a little straighter when he walked past and so he knew she had seen him too. One day he just asked her out; she had said yes immediately and the rest was history.
Emma was standing outside her house with her new friend, Leanne. He saw Emma’s eyes light up as she saw him approaching, sucking in her breath in a way that turned him on. He knew what she was thinking about as she glanced at his body for a split second. He was thinking about it too. There had always been a certain electricity between them, he felt an involuntary breathlessness around her that only abated when they were locked together. He was always anticipating the next kiss.
‘You changed your hair again.’ He pointed to her roots which were a neon red, the rest a trailing black tangle down her back. She chewed on the back of her labret lip piercing and smiled at Gabriel. Leanne was obviously clueless about personal boundaries as she hung onto Emma’s arm. Emma’s eyes said later and he found himself excited at being forced to wait.
‘We’re going to go meet Leanne’s mates, they’re coming too.’
Gabriel didn’t know Leanne well but she had attached herself to Emma lately. They worked together at Tesco on Saturdays. Together, the three of them walked up through Heavitree and past the bus station. They kept walking, past the town, up towards the prison and beyond that, to the fencing that separated the railway tracks from the road, keeping local kids and cats from sliding down the bank and wandering into the path of an oncoming train.
It had started to spit. As they approached the fence, Gabriel saw two guys in their late teens standing waiting for them, hoods pulled up against the rain. Leanne yanked up some of the chicken wire fencing and disappeared behind it. Gabriel and Emma followed. The disused signal box near Exeter Central station was a known hangout for some of the less savoury characters that Leanne was friends with. As they made their way down, Gabriel heard a commotion and the sound of glass smashing; he was kind of excited at the rebelliousness of it all. In Gabriel’s eyes, the only thing worse than being bored was listening to his parents either fighting or fucking. Tonight was going to be far from boring, he would make sure of it.
Gabriel had seen the boys by the tracks in town before; they were Laners. Laners were the scum of the city as far as most people were concerned. Burnthouse Lane had a reputation for being home to some of the more violent members of local society. Between the ASBOs and the muggings there was little love left for the Laners. The kids were left to fend for themselves and the adults just did what they wanted. There was no community feel to the Lane, except among the teens. Several of the boys claimed to be the offspring of the Sly crew, the firm of football thugs that supported Exeter FC and made a name for themselves in the eighties. The Sly crew were not only well known for their random acts of violence, but also their almost myth-like status. None of the teens were sure if they had ever actually existed or not, which somehow made them even more terrifying to boys like Gabriel growing up. Everyone from the Lane had a story about the Sly crew, usually exaggerated to the point where they had witnessed a murder or were owed a massive favour that they could call in at any time.
Inside, the signal box was set up like an office, with all the levers chained to the wall, although most likely no longer connected to the tracks. There were three large chairs facing the centre
