Jason Willow: Face Your Demons

  JASON WILLOW

  Face Your Demons

  By Gareth Mottram

  www.jasonwillow.com

  www.facebook.jasonwillow666

  Copyright © Gareth C. Mottram 2009

  This edition published in 2013 by

  The Red Button Press

  Elsenham, Bishops Stortford, Hertfordshire, CM22 6EN

  Fourth Edition (reprinting) 978-0-9557471-4-4

  First edition published 2007 (ISBN 978-0-9557471-0-6)

  Second Edition (revised) published October 2009 (ISBN 978-0-9557471-1-3)

  Third Edition published June 2012 (ISBN978-1781764589)

  The author has asserted their moral right under the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified

  as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Cover Artwork by Peter Callow

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  theredbuttonpress.jimdo.com/

  Praise for Jason Willow

  Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA) 2nd Round

  ABNA Expert Reviewer

  The strongest aspect of this excerpt is easily the relationships the author has carved out for the small family. Two pages into the excerpt Jason's mother dies, and I almost choked up-to me that's a sign of good writing. The author drew me in immediately, and because of that I felt for Jason and his sister Miranda. His father seemed cold, but the author threw in small details to let us know that his heart was breaking as well. Carving out believable relationships between siblings, especially brothers and sisters, isn't something I see down well in young adult fiction, but I think this author hit the nail on the head, and showed us quickly and within the realm of the story how close Jason and his sister are, while still being realistic.

  I enjoyed this immensely! I have boys and this is a book I can see my 12 year old enjoying. The mystery, the loss of their mother, all powerful tools that the author uses well. I can completely see this capturing the imaginations of young teen boys and older tweens - a market I really like to see expanded on. I enjoyed the relationship the two teens have, and most importantly I bought it. It didn't seem fake or artificial. And then there is the mystery of the kids' father-what is his past all about? Is he a good guy or a bad guy-I think that is the real burning question?

  ABNA Quarter Finals: Publishers Weekly Reviewer

  ...the exciting plot keeps the pages turning. The description of Jason’s Gift is particularly original and the fight scenes are intense. This is a solid YA novel that wraps the story up neatly while still setting the reader up for a sequel.

  The SL – School Librarian magazine, Summer 08

  “This exciting first novel is not for the faint hearted with menacing locations and action descriptions. It is a story of the struggle of a boy who has all the usual teen angst as well as having to deal with a family secret which catches up with him. Issues of bullying, violence, family loyalties, friendships and the battle between good and evil make this a fairly complex but exceedingly hard to put down novel…”

  The Times Educational Supplement (Web Site – reader review)

  The fierce, often gruesome, battles suggest similarities with modern day computer games and should therefore appeal to readers who are well versed in these games.

  Amazon.co.uk: reader review

  Wow - but I NEED more!

  I love a book that leaves me wandering "What the... How the..." about the author and how such scenarios and plots could ever have been thought up? This is one such book. The images created are so vivid you become part of the scenery and feel like you are only a few footsteps behind the action but can't quite reach out to stop the things you know are coming. There is nothing typical about this book, the baddies get their fair share of success and the goodies also get their fair share of kicks in the face which leaves you shouting "noooooooo... you can't do that".

  Commissioned Editorial Report by Melissa Weatherill

  “…Your voices are well drawn and believable and yet there is an edge of mystery and magic that comes across very strongly.

  …Your characterisation is excellent. There is someone for everyone to identify with: Miranda for the girls, Jason’s father for the adults and Jason for the boys. You have really breathed life into this family, giving them a history, a past, a present and a future.

  …some fabulous scenes, set pieces and plenty of action…

  (Melissa is an independent editor and reviewer for books and film, freelance editing fiction and non-fiction for publishing houses including Macmillan, Orion, Hodder and Grove Atlantic. Melissa also assesses books and screenplays for film companies such as BBC films.)

  Amazon.co.uk: reader review

  Jason Willow's quest to establish his true identity is one long roller coaster of action and suspense. Magnificent locations came alive with an ever-present sense of menace. The other characters, good and bad, were skilfully built upon as the story progressed (I'm still rooting for Violet), and I can't wait to hear more of their story. If you like books by Darren Shan, Anthony Horowitz, and the later, darker Harry Potter novels go and get Jason Willow now!

  Dedications

  To Mum who gives everything and asks for nothing at all.

  To my wife, Corrina, whose love and support still astounds me.

  To James and Francesca, my raison d’être during dark times and my joy always.

  To Charlotte, who reminds us all that life is sooo exciting.

  And now to baby Dylan, who just does smiling.

  Massive Thanks

  To Corrina for believing and endless editing

  To Nell for ploughing bravely through the first draft

  To Pete for picturing perfectly

  Prologue

  ‘Get down!’ Dad yelled and hurled Jason and Miranda to the floor.

  Jason tucked into a roll and flowed to his knees pressing tight against a concrete pillar. Mum and Dad darted behind parked cars as the blacked-out van squealed to a halt and three armed men burst out.

  Miranda leapt on Jason from her prone position and flattened him to the floor. ‘Keep down, you idiot!’

  Gunfire exploded through the multi-storey car park as bullets ripped concrete from the columns all around them. Jason slapped his sister’s arm away and jerked his head up.

  Dad crouched behind the next pillar, with a pistol somehow in his hand. One of the gunmen suddenly appeared, leaping across the bonnet of a 4x4, his black overcoat billowing out behind him like gigantic bat wings.

  Dad shot his heart out with a single bullet. As the dead-eyed head smacked onto the floor, Dad surged to his feet, gun blazing. He thrust his empty hand out in front of him and stepped out of cover.

  Miranda caught Jason in a headlock and pulled him flat again. ‘Stay down, they’re agents. There’s nothing you can do.’

  Jason fought against her expert hold. ‘Dad needs us - it’s three against one…’

  Suddenly the shooting stopped. Silence slammed down around them.

  ‘Not anymore,’ Miranda whispered and eased her grip.

  Jason broke free and scrambled to his knees. Dad stood just a couple of metres away, scanning the cars with his gun s
till out.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ Jason asked.

  ‘I’m so sorry…’ Dad said, his voice quiet. He didn’t look at them. ‘She’s gone.’

  What was he talking about? Jason pulled himself to his feet – numbing panic pulsing into his head. Miranda stumbled passed him like a zombie and lurched to a halt next to Dad. She stared at the floor on the other side of a lurid yellow car then silently sank to her knees.

  Jason was next to her a second later. Their mother lay there, unmoving, a single dark patch staining the cream blouse she had bought especially for the theatre tonight.

  This couldn’t be happening – not after they had survived for so long.

  He forced himself closer and a hint of the perfume that had always been part of her reached him. He stretched out his shaking hand - her cheeks were still warm and soft. She couldn’t be dead.

  Police sirens faded in from somewhere. Jason looked up. A few stricken faces were staring at them – normal people with normal lives. One man held his mobile phone inches away from his mouth - frozen.

  Dad dropped to one knee beside Jason and cupped Mum’s cheek in one hand. He was absolutely silent but the tendons down his neck bulged almost out of his skin.

  Jason’s eyes began to burn from the inside and the car park blurred down to Miranda’s silent tears dropping onto the concrete. Jason felt her slip one arm around him.

  ‘We have to leave,’ Dad said, his voice cracking. ‘Kiss your mother – you need to say goodbye properly.’

  Miranda hesitated for only a second then fell forward, clinging on to Mum’s limp body. Jason couldn’t move. Warm blood soaked into his jeans…

  ***

  Jason’s mother had been murdered almost a year ago now. The following day, he, Dad and Miranda had let their faces be caught on CCTV running for the Eurostar to Brussels. They had switched back through France, driving at night on tiny roads, and lost themselves working the farms and vineyards all around rural Spain.

  Now they were back in Britain, flown in under the radar by private plane and en route for yet another change of life and identity. Dad always insisted they keep their real first names which was annoying as Jason didn’t like his very much. Anyway, this time he was called Willow - Jason Willow.

  He was fifteen now – more than old enough for Dad to finally explain why these agents had been hunting them all his life. Who keeps sending them… who exactly had ordered their deaths?

  It was time the hunters became the hunted.

  Chapter 1

  ‘That man keeps staring at us Dad.’ Jason whispered.

  Miranda stopped trying to read her magazine and looked up at the Easter holiday crowds churning noisily around them.

  ‘Dad…’ Jason repeated

  ‘Yes, son, I heard,’ Dad said, gazing around the airport check-in area without seeming to take an interest in anything. ‘Don’t stare but tell me which man and where,’ he mumbled.

  Jason made a slight nod towards a tall, slim man standing at a magazine rack. ‘In Smiths – long coat, big camera.’

  There was something compelling about the man. Unshaven, greased back hair and sallow skinned, he should have come across as unsavoury at best, but something about the confident way he held himself made you want to watch him.

  ‘That doesn’t narrow it down very much,’ Dad said.

  Jason glanced over again. At least half a dozen scruffy men with expensive, big-lens cameras were milling around that area watching the arrivals board above them.

  ‘Oops,’ Jason said, ‘I might possibly have been over-reacting.’

  ‘Probably,’ Dad smiled thinly, ‘paparazzi are always on the lookout for the next shot. All the same, which one was it?’

  ‘Black T-shirt and jeans – see him?’

  Miranda turned to stare into the newsagents but the man drifted further into the store.

  ‘Looks like you scared him away, Sis,’ Jason said, ‘he’s probably worried you’d crack his lens.’

  ‘Don’t try being funny, Jason,’ Miranda smiled sympathetically, ‘it doesn’t work for you.’

  ‘Now, now children,’ Dad said, ‘be nice. You go into departures on your own and I’ll meet you in the lounge after I’ve checked out our reporter chappie. Why don’t you grab us a table for some brunch - okay? Get me something big with bacon, please.’

  Dad ushered them away with their boarding passes as Miranda tried to walk and look backwards simultaneously.

  ‘Definitely no photo opportunity for little old you,’ Jason said, grinning.

  ‘I bet he’d rather snap me than you, Adonis.’

  ‘Maybe, but that’s because I’m not a blonde bimbo wearing skin tight jeans and a pink fluffy jumper… again.’

  ‘You’re only jealous because I didn’t let you borrow them.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Jason said, looking over Miranda’s shoulder. The photographer had disappeared and Dad had merged into the shuffling crowds. ‘I feel a bit stupid now – pressing the panic button and everything.’

  ‘You are stupid, but not for that,’ Miranda said. ‘Shush now.’

  They joined the queue and passed through into departures.

  ‘I think you should order Dad a Stella - help him chill out for our little holiday on the sun-drenched Isle of Mawn,’ Jason said.

  Edging their way through the Easter holidaymakers they spotted an eighties retro-bar with small trees growing out of chrome plant pots and neon lighting. Amazingly, there were still a couple of tables free - probably something to do with Dad’s unusual choice of time to have a meal - half past ten in the morning.

  They collapsed into the red plastic seats and a spotty young waiter hurried over grinning inanely at Miranda. Jason chose the house special bacon burger for Dad and himself. Miranda of course ordered the ever-so-healthy slimmer’s char-grilled chicken salad.

  ‘It’ll be good to see Grandfather again,’ Miranda said, as the waiter disappeared.

  ‘I’m not sure a week in sun-drenched Mawn with the old sod will quite match up to working our way around Portugal,’ Jason said, relaxing back and pulling off his baseball cap.

  Miranda caught his hand and whispered. ‘Leave it on.’

  Jason chewed at his lip in frustration but put the hat back on. After being on the run for fifteen years he still occasionally forgot the rules Dad had drilled into them. Good job his perfect big sister was always there to save the day.

  He glanced around at the crowd with a twinge of envy at all the normal families who could travel through airports or railway stations whenever they liked without having to keep peaked hats on and faces turned down from the CCTV.

  The spotty waiter weaved through the tables with their drinks. He dumped the Coke and lager on the table before fussing about undoing Miranda’s mineral water and pouring it carefully into her glass over a double helping of lemon slices. Finally he left them, bumping into another table as he glanced back at her.

  ‘Looks like you’ve picked up another love-sick puppy,’ Jason said.

  Miranda nodded but didn’t flash her usual smile. ‘I can’t see him wanting to buy into our life though, can you?’

  Jason took a slow sip of Coke. ‘We might actually stay in one place this time – moving to Alan Brash’s little empire and everything.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Miranda shrugged.

  ‘And you’re getting off school until September.’

  ‘Yeah, great. I’ll have to re-start the sixth form a year behind with a bunch of immature boys and cliquey girls.’

  Jason raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh my heart bleeds for you, Sis.’

  Miranda licked the lemon juice from her fingers, a smile pulling at one side of her mouth. ‘Hey - you might finally get a girlfriend at school without your big sister’s utter gorgeousness intimidating them.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Jason mumbled, pulling his Coke back towards him again.

  Miranda touched his arm. ‘You will be careful there, won’t you… just keep out of trouble.’

&
nbsp; Jason looked across at her, waiting for the lecture about not using Dad’s martial arts training on anybody. However, Miranda had stopped – she wasn’t going into nagging session. Jason grunted. Miranda wasn’t meant to be nice to him unless one of them was really upset about something.

  They were quiet for a time, drinking their drinks and watching the stressed-out holidaymakers bustling around just at the edges of the café’s sad brown floor tiles. Dad had been gone for maybe ten minutes – he always checked everything out really thoroughly – no matter how trivial.

  Miranda broke the silence.

  ‘This’ll be the first time up in Scotland without Mum…’ She stopped, swallowing back her next words.

  Jason took a slow breath and he fixed his gaze on an electronic flight information board at the far side of departures. Miranda was scrabbling around in her bag and he passed over a napkin without looking at her. She never had anything useful like a tissue in any of her half a dozen handbags.

  ‘Thanks,’ Miranda said. He knew she was staring at him and that her eyes would be all sparkly with blinked-back tears. He didn’t want to look back at her, not yet.

  Luckily, he saw Dad slipping through the crowds to join them.

  ‘I need a drink,’ he said, shrugging his long raincoat on to the back of his chair.

  ‘Did you find the photographer?’ Jason asked.

  ‘Yep – I spotted him and a couple of the others skulking about outside an emergency exit…’ He frowned and wiped a thumb gently across Miranda’s cheek but she smiled back reassuringly.

  ‘Anyway,’ Dad continued, ‘being a good citizen, I shopped them to a security guard but he didn’t seem bothered. Some reality TV star’s flying in “secretly” with her new baby and they’ve been hanging around all day apparently.’ Dad settled back into his chair. ‘Now, where’s my beer?’