Locke & Co.

Excerpt

Locke & Co.
E.J. Tett © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

There is no jolt. Or shock. Or sudden, great intake of breath. Your eyes don’t snap open. This is no rebirth. It’s like waking up but not remembering the moment you were no longer asleep. You will hurt, depending on how you went, and you will scar, but you will live again. And that’s all that matters.

The whistle woke Allery from death, but it was the feeling of being smothered that made her heart hammer. She couldn’t move—the new-shower-curtain smell of the body bag seemed like the only thing between her and six foot of earth pressing down around her. No, it wouldn’t be six foot; they must’ve almost dug her out for her to have heard their signal. God, they couldn’t get to her quick enough.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

The material moved against her mouth when she breathed, so she clamped her lips together and exhaled hard through her nose instead. She didn’t dare open her eyes. She reminded herself she wouldn’t be trapped underground for eternity. They were coming. There was nothing for her to panic about.

She swallowed, grimacing at the dryness of her throat. Hanging was not a pleasant way to go but it had been a necessity. The prison guards had told her the only way she’d leave would be in a body bag and she’d smiled.

She longed to be able to bend her knees and lift her arms above her head but if she moved even an inch the earth moved with her, filling the wiggle room.

It wasn’t quite silent underground; if she strained her ears, she could hear a faint scratching of metal against rocks and a thumping of soil.

They were digging her up. They’d know not to keep jabbing into the ground like that, wouldn’t they? She didn’t know how much having a spade in the guts would hurt and she didn’t like to hazard a guess. The noises grew louder, and she could hear voices above.

“…hurry up!” Esme, impatient as usual.

“Well, if you put your back into it…” She couldn’t work out if that was Driscoll or Nick. Driscoll, probably. Nick would be on lookout, listening to the trees, checking for the guards.

The pressure eased on her chest as the soil lifted and she thrashed about to free herself. She opened her eyes though she could see nothing.

“Got her.” Esme’s voice again. “Quick, help her.”

Somebody unzipped the body bag and she got herself out of it as fast as she could. Esme grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the grave. The early evening gloom welcomed her back to the land of the living, and she quickly relaxed—the adrenaline dropping away left her shivering and aware of the fact she needed a wee.

She stood on the ground beside the open grave and brushed dirt from her grey prison uniform. Esme leaned on her shovel, a big grin on her pretty face. Driscoll thrust out his hand.

“Good to have you back, Al,” he said.

“I’m glad to be out of that place,” she replied, taking his hand.

“Did you get the information?”

She smiled. “Of course.” Driscoll didn’t ask for it. It wasn’t safe for anyone else to know; the wardens were also looking for the key, and if she had managed to find out about it, they would, too. Eventually.

The forest was full of unmarked graves; rectangles of fresh dirt nearby the only clues that anybody had been buried there at all. Who cared about a bunch of dead criminals? Allery frowned but Driscoll shoved his spade into the pile of earth and began filling the hole she’d climbed out of, stirring her into action. She took the shovel from Esme and helped him.

“Least they didn’t cut you open to find out how you died,” Driscoll commented.

Allery could still feel the rope burn around her neck. She smiled a little but didn’t reply. After they’d patted the ground flat, she hefted the spade over her shoulder, aware they might have to bolt at any moment.

“So, are we going after it now?” Esme asked.

Allery arched her back and stretched her neck, making the bones click. “I’ve just come back to life after spending far too long locked up,” she said. “It can wait one more day.”

“I’m sure it can,” Driscoll agreed, scratching his moustache with a chewed fingernail. “For now, how about we head home and have a little celebratory drink. The sooner we’re away from here, the better. Nick! Get your arse over here.”

It was always hard to pull Nick away from the trees once he was connected. He stood, palms to the trunk of a sycamore, his forehead pressed lightly against the bark, and Esme went to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and put her lips to his ear. Allery dropped her gaze with a smile, imagining exactly what Esme would’ve said to get his attention.

“Jealous?” Driscoll teased, giving her a nudge with his elbow.

“Let’s go and get that drink,” she replied, hooking her arm through his. “And get the hell away from this place.” She took one last look at the grey walls of the prison peeking through the trees before turning away.

*

Merrybell Cottage sat in an overgrown field at the end of a no-through road, on the outskirts of a village in the backend of nowhere. It was derelict, its roof tiles missing and windows smashed. Ivy consumed one of its outbuildings and the roof was green with moss and lichen. The other outbuilding still stood but had no roof at all, and a rotten chicken coop squatted beneath some raggedy trees by its side. It had been raining, so the ground was soft and squelchy beneath their feet, but Allery was glad to be home.

Esme and Nick practically ran ahead, giggling and flirting like teenagers. They stopped in the doorway to share a kiss before disappearing from view. Allery looked back at Driscoll locking the car and he turned to smile at her.

“Back in Merry hell,” he said, throwing his arms wide. “What a wonderful shithole to bring a girl home to, eh?”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this place,” she replied. “Compared to prison, this is like a palace.”

“Really?”

“Well, no. It’s like a slightly less shit prison. Without the bars and screws.”

Driscoll chuckled. He pushed the door for her and stepped aside. “After you.”

The first thing she noticed was the smell, that damp mustiness beneath the alcohol and cigarettes, as familiar as her shoes. Then she took in the mess. The empty cans of beers by the rodent-chewed sofa and the pile of pizza boxes acting as the extra leg for the three-legged coffee table. Her skin crawled but the thought of cleaning made her smile. She went inside, took off her coat, and draped it over the arm of the sofa. There was no carpet, nothing on the walls, a fireplace with broken tiles and no fire, exposed pipes, and a crack running up the back wall. A pang of something twisted in her chest and disappeared. Regret? They’d had a nice headquarters before all this, with a proper office and a sign on the door that read, Locke & Co.

Esme’s muffled voice reached her through the ceiling and Nick’s laughter followed. Allery sighed. “It’s like I’ve never been away,” she said.

“We’ve missed you, believe me,” Driscoll said, standing at the worktop in the kitchen. “Can you believe we pulled that off? Prison break of the century. Drink?”

“I’m just pleased that tip paid off, otherwise it would’ve all been for nothing.” She sighed. The woman she’d spoken to inside had been…insane. It should’ve come as no surprise—she could imagine only too well what it would be like to be trapped in that place for eternity, but the severity of the woman’s delusions, her raving, her laughter, especially her laughter… Allery scratched the back of her neck and closed her eyes briefly, willing the memory away. “I want to go out.”

“Out?”

“To a bar, or a club or…anywhere. I’ve been cooped up. I need to be out of these clothes and out of this house.”

“But you’ve only just got here.”

“I need to breathe for a bit; I need to feel. Do you remember my mother?”

Driscoll raised his eyebrows. “Now there’s a question to come out of nowhere. Of course I do.”

“You saved her life, but she was always going to die.”

It was Driscoll’s turn to sigh. “Yes. All mortals die at some point, though it was cruel for her to be taken so soon. I know you think you’ll forget her, Allery, but you won’t. Some things you don’t forget.” He turned to take a glass from the cupboard. “Enough of this melancholy; get a drink down your neck.”

“I think I need more than one drink. Let’s go to that club. I want a night of freedom.”

Driscoll laughed. “Only one night? Sure, after this job, we’ll all have our freedom.”

“Now that’s a nice thought. Come on, all four of us. Let’s have one decent night together before the shit inevitably hits the fan.”

Driscoll drummed his fingers on the worktop, then he snatched up the car keys. “You’re on. Go get changed, fetch the lovebirds, and I’ll get the car started.”

*

The DJ played the dance music loud and its heavy beats pulsed through her chest, making her feel a little sick. Strobe lights flashed, people jumped up and down, and the sticky floor bounced beneath her feet. She squeezed past a group of youngsters, teens, probably not old enough to be there, their hot bodies smelling of sweat and alcohol, and made her way across the crowded dance floor to the table where the others sat. She put the drinks on the table and took a seat next to Esme.

“You all right?” Esme asked, leaning over. She wore false eyelashes, making her elfin face appear doll-like, and a low-cut top to show off her ample assets. She smelled like peaches.

Allery pulled her gaze up. “Mm? Yeah. You?”

Esme grinned. “See anything you like?”

Allery couldn’t help glancing at Nick, though he couldn’t possibly hear them and was deep in conversation with Driscoll anyway, before clearing her throat and looking out at the dancers. “Tall blonde,” she said, “dancing with the sweaty guy.”

“I think that’s a man, Al.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, there.”

Esme looked again. “Oh yeah. Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Allery gazed at the woman. Her curled blonde hair bounced around her shoulders as she danced and her dress was tight and short, showing off ridiculously long legs. “I’m going to talk to her,” she said, getting up.

“She looks like a slut,” Esme commented.

“Good!” She gave her friend a wink, and squeezed back onto the dance floor, pushing through the crowd to reach her target. The woman had stopped dancing by the time she got to her, and was leaning against the bar, laughing at some joke with her sweaty friend.

Allery rested her forearms on the bar, pretending to wait for service, and gave it a moment before saying loudly, “I like your dress.”

The woman looked at her. “What?” she asked, raising her voice over the music.

“Your dress,” Allery replied. “I like it. It’s very tight.”

“Are you taking the piss?” Then to her friend, “Is she taking the piss?”

Allery smiled and shook her head. “I’m not taking the piss. I’m Allery, by the way.”

“Oh.” The woman looked suspicious for just a moment longer before her frown lifted and she smiled. “I’m Caitlin. This is my cousin, Mark.”

“Mark, I’m going to pinch your dance partner.” Allery took hold of Caitlin’s hands. “Dance with me?” She pulled her onto the dance floor before she could protest, smiling at Caitlin’s confused laugh.

They danced, Caitlin’s hands above her head, eyes closed. Heat radiated off the bodies around them. Allery took the opportunity to put an arm around Caitlin’s waist and pull her closer. This was living. Caitlin’s eyes opened and her arms descended around Allery’s neck.

“Are you gay?” she asked.

“Little bit,” Allery replied, grinning at the drunken eyes-half-closed expression on Caitlin’s face. “You don’t have to dance with me.”

Caitlin had come very close to her, leaning in so she could hear. Allery breathed in the smell of her coconut-scented blonde hair tickling her face.

“Always wondered what it’d be like to kiss a woman,” Caitlin said, moving back.

“Want to find out?”

For a reply, Caitlin’s lips met her own, smooth and warm, and when she opened her mouth, Allery tasted vodka and orange on her tongue. Love straight girls. The kiss ended as the next track started to play. Allery lifted a hand to push Caitlin’s hair from her face and froze.

Behind Caitlin, standing among the dancers, stood a warden. Though he looked like a teenage boy, his soulless black orbs for eyes and the unnatural stillness with which he held himself gave him away. Nobody else noticed him. Allery looked back through the crowd for her friends, but Driscoll sat alone at the table.

“Warden,” she mouthed to him, and it took only the blink of her eyes for him to disappear.

She turned back, took hold of Caitlin’s arm to lead her away, but a blade burst from the girl’s chest, blood red. Caitlin’s brow knitted in confusion and a strangled noise passed her lips. Her fingers clutched at Allery’s shoulder. She looked down at the blade, then gazed at Allery, her eyes red and teary, full of fear.

The music seemed to mute and the blood pounding in Allery’s head became louder. She opened her mouth to say…to say what? The warden pulled the blade back and Caitlin crumpled. People screamed then and Allery’s ears popped.

“No,” she breathed, holding Caitlin as she lay dying. She looked up at the warden, heard Caitlin’s cousin shout somewhere, felt him shove her aside, and she fell back onto her elbows, staring at Caitlin.

“Al!”

She came to her senses when someone grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet, and she clutched Nick’s arm and backed up with him as the warden paced towards them.

“Where’s Esme?” she cried, as people scattered before the knife-wielding lunatic, bumping into one another.

A dark shape crashed into the warden, knocking him off his feet and pinning him to the dance floor, snarling over him, fur bristling.

“Oh shit, Nick!” She pushed people then, shoving them towards the exit, yelling, “Go! Go!”

Nick did the same, urging them on, and she could hear him crying, “It’s all right, it’s just a dog!”

A dog! Inside she was laughing hysterically. As if anyone would believe that. A fucking dog!

The clubbers were screaming and bumping into tables in their haste, sending glasses crashing to the floor. The bouncers fought against the tide briefly, until a howl turned them to the exit with everyone else.

Another warden appeared in front of her, a girl this time, probably about twelve years old. Clubbers skirted around her, spilling out of the fire escape into the night. The girl raised her arm; she had a gun in her hand, pointed at Nick.

Allery dived across him as the gun fired. The bullet punched into her back, and she fell into his arms. As he lowered her to the floor, she saw the wolf leap over them before the darkness closed in on her.