The Tens

by Vanessa Jones

  A whoosh of of air whipped all around her, simultaneously pushing her down and lifting her up. It felt so windy that her hearing was washed out and her hair flapped in her face, like she was plummeting down an endless slippery slide.

  Suddenly, the space around her seemed to expand, she felt like she was being sucked backwards. Everything around her turned midnight blue punctuated with streaks of electric white. Terror tugged at the nape of her neck through the chill of the air. Somehow, Sophie knew what she was approaching.

  A beast stood on a small rise in the ground. The beast's hair looked like a wobbly flame with tight spiralled curls dwarfing its head, which arched all over to one side, like a wave about to break. The figure was clad in a second skin of the blackest material, that shone purple when it— when she— arched her back. The material clung to her body and dripped and draped from her limbs, back and shoulders. The only bit of skin exposed her hands, neck and face, bore a sheen so delicate, so frighteningly reflective that it set her hair alight even more.

  The Wild Woman curved until Sophie thought she might break in two and clutched at her throat, swathes of material flapping at her fingers, her nails pointy and long and the colour of menses blood. Arching the way she was made her look like a tree. A bent plane tree, blackened out at sunset, abandoned by its leaves, the only colour a brush of remaining flame-red leaves curled over at the top.

  This creature was partly petrifying and mostly mesmerising. Compelled, Sophie strode towards her, ready to undo the hallucination. To confront her and all that she stood for.

  'Come to me, come to me, come to me,' her beckons swirled in the air, wrapping around Sophie's waist and pulling her towards her. The closer she got, the more she could see her face with every flicker of light and movement, alternating between the smooth skin of youth and the crinkly and drawn face of a crone. The Wild Woman's limbs were so spindly they looked as if they were twigs and she watched her fingers with their spider-like movements with fascination. Trying to catch the woman's invisible gaze, Sophie splayed her open hands towards the woman. 'Do you... need something?' Unsure whether she should be asking or offering.

  'Stand still.' The woman screeched in time with a piercing thunder crack. Sophie obeyed, enjoying the uncanny feeling of a thunderstorm that she unwittingly yearned for. One that would break all the pressure that her body and soul contained. The sky cracked again and shards of lightning broke up the indigo dusk; white-hot snakes of light streamed downwards behind her, illuminating her silhouette so all Sophie could see was darkness and a bush of scarlet hair.

  With the next flash, she had disappeared and the storm dropped instantly. And in swooped a sticky euphoria. Behind where the woman had been standing was a pale white reflection, glowing through the grim night. Sophie no longer cared if it was the Wild Woman entrapping her or a torchlight of one of The Tens. If they caught her there would be no mercy, she was certain. And she was so drained from everything she had been told and everything that she had seen that she had nothing left to fight with. There was no barometer for reality or insanity anymore, so she ambled towards the echo of light.

  The closer she got to the wide light figure, the more she slowed down. For as she stood two metres away from it, she knew exactly what it was. An object she had been familiar with her whole life. Something that had terrorised her so acutely that to come upon it at a time like now, confused her. Her body hurtled forward as she rested her forehead on the big white rock from her nightmares, its coolness a balm that took away some of the burning pain and the horror of what Abigail had done to herself.

  The rock could not save her, she knew that and it wouldn't be long before one of the campers would discover her but she could not ignore that she had foretold the sighting of the rock and it had transpired into her life.

  And just like in her nightmares those many times when she jolted away in a damp film, came the laughter. It rolled around her, chasing itself with an echo. But the laughter was different than in her dreams, it was less tinny, less menacing. It wasn't exactly comical either.

  The laughter flew around her head and she held her breath, fearing that Carla had caught up to her. Amid the laughter, she heard a familiar sound: flapping. The tap of a wing on a feathered body made her sag to her knees with relief and she looked up, her eyes scouring the treetops. There were birds laughing at her. Their raucous caws were almost mirthful to her now. Pressing her forehead and ravaged palms to the rock, as she knelt before it, her shoulders shrugged in laughter at the fancy of these voyeuristic characters that had been with her every step of the way. Not quite helpful and not quite harmful but nevertheless, they had been tracking her all along.

  Her stomach softened as she relaxed to catch her breath, listening to the gentler whistling wind and the boisterous birds. Just as Sophie was deciding her next move, whether to hide or keep walking through the cold night, a concrete hand clamped on her shoulder and she tensed back up. A bony thumb pressed into her flesh. They had finally caught up with her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  'Sophie?' A mellifluous voice questioned.

  Turning her head to face the soft voice in amazement, Sophie saw her beloved friend Bree standing over her. 'Bree?'

  Bree took three steps back and lifted a black box to her mouth and mouthed words into it. Bree had lost her suburban mum look and sported more urban attire, with black utility pants and boots and a khaki zipped-up bomber jacket. 'It's okay honey, you're okay,' she crouched down to Sophie's height and looked at her reassuringly as several men swam in from behind trees.

  Sophie noticed the glint of her decorated badge clipped to the top of her waistband and looked back up to her eyes. 'What are you doing here?' Was all Sophie could get out in between raspy breaths.

  'I'm a detective, Sophie. I've been part of an undercover operation to bust apart a camp that I found your name associated with. Unfortunately, that meant I've had to be under the guise of friendship whilst I collected more information about these bastards. Although I wish it wasn't. We're gonna get you to safety real quick but can you do me a favour and tell me which way you came from?'

  Sophie wept and pointed back into the trees where she came from and watched four indistinguishable police officers trot off in that direction. Bree winced as she spotted Sophie’s burnt hands.

  'It's okay Sophie, you're safe now. I'm sorry that this escalated so much before I stepped in. You've been missing for a few days and it was never my intention to let it get so far before I pulled the plug on their bullshit.'

  Sophie could do nothing but cry, her tears falling heavy to the dirt below her.

  'Let's get you into the vehicle and check those injuries out. I'll ride with you.'

  Bree looked back to Sophie who was slumped in the back seat of the police car on the way to the hospital, her palms face up and looking angry with tangerine-coloured blisters.

  'I must say our timing is exquisite, hun. We've been scouring around the area for about twenty-four hours now and there was not a trace. If it wasn't for me hearing you laughing to yourself, I may be searching for you for another day or two. I'm so glad we found you.'

  Although Sophie felt duped by the charade that Bree had put up with her to find The Tens, she felt like she was in safe hands. Anything to be away from that camp. She thought of Abigail and whimpered softly as she realised that Abigail could have been freed anyway if the police came upon them.

  Bree looked down at her phone and thumped the dashboard with excitement. 'Just got a message hun, they've got them! You helped us, you really did. We've been on this hunt for years.'

  ‘You mean you’ve arrested them? All of them?’

  ‘Yep, all of them will be taken to the station for questioning and I’m confident the leaders, at the least, will be charged.’

  They weren’t going to come after her. Sophie was safe from them. She could return home and finally get better now that no one was poisoning her or trying to make her crazy.

  'Why did you give me Carl
a's card that time?' Sophie was perplexed. How far back did Bree’s influence go?

  'I'm sorry that I had to throw you into the hornet's nest like that. But we weren't getting anywhere and we already had eyes on her but couldn't quite pin her for anything. I honestly didn't think they would go to such extremes. I thought you'd just give me snippets of information about her whenever we caught up for coffee. But you've helped us more than you can ever know. You truly have.'

  'There's a baby.'

  'What's that, hun?'

  'They have a baby with them at the camp. They wanted one of the girls... they wanted Abigail to burn her in the fire. You'll find Abigail's body there. She... you'll find her body there,' Sophie gulped back her words as she watched the scenery blur past her window.

  'Oh, hun. You're going to be okay now. Our officers will make sure everyone is as safe as they can be.'

  'Bree?'

  'Yes, hun?'

  'I think they also killed my parents too.' Bree mouthed silently, 'I know' and her face crumpled at Sophie.

  As they pulled up to the hospital car park, Sophie noticed several white vans, cordoned off by police tape and a handful of officers casually waiting nearby. They looked up when they saw the car approaching. 'Did you...,' Sophie sighed to herself, self-conscious that her mind had been wobbly for so long. But she didn't have a lot to lose. 'Did you ever come by my house? With the van, I mean?'

  'Yes. We did. And look, I'm sorry if this unnerved you, if you ever saw us. We tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. But it was part of the operation. We had to keep tabs on you. Initially, we weren't quite clear on the extent of your involvement.'

  'I see.' Sophie should have been furious but all she felt was unreserved relief. She didn’t hallucinate any of it: the van at the front of her house, the woman following her in the car, Bree giving her the cold shoulder when Sophie had busted her following her out the front of Carla’s office. There was nothing wrong with her.

  'Let's get you inside. There's a doctor waiting to see how much of the skin on your hands we can save. And a psychiatrist should you need one.'

  For the first time in ages, Sophie felt like she was in her right mind. Even after all that she had been through.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Sophie only allowed herself to watch a small bit of news coverage: the same footage they kept repeating which became synonymous with the arrests. A trail of people looking sheepishly at the ground, as they are walked towards vans, their hands cuffed. They all looked ridiculous in their matching jumpers, most of them barefoot and powerless, without the protection of their isolation and idiotic practices.

  'A cult has been discovered in the woods of the farming region, known as The Tens, who have long believed that the planet Venus is going to somehow fuse with earth and become one planet. Police have uncovered an illegal camp and have reported that cult members were consciously trying to poison themselves with the mineral copper, in order to prepare themselves for what they have dubbed, The New Way,' the incredulity of every newsreader that reported the story said it all to Sophie. She was never the crazy one.

  'Yoohoo,' Bree rapped at the front door.

  'Coming,' Sophie announced from the kitchen where she stood in the warm glow of the sunshine and was smiling to herself. Since she’d returned home, the house felt less empty, even though it was just her there. She’d opened up the blinds and windows more, less fearful of what was plaguing her or that a bird was going to fly inside.

  Sophie slid away the copy of Venus that she stole, hidden under her waistband the whole time and went to usher Bree inside for a warm coffee and equally warm chat.

  'Their so-called alchemy is useless to them now,' Bree laughed at the TV screen playing in the background. 'Carla and Clive have been detained and are awaiting trial for trespassing and squatting and holding someone against their will, intentional administration of harmful substances, impersonating a psychologist and a few other little delights that we've chucked in there for good measure. Another team are investigating the link to your parents’ death.’ She winked at Sophie. But her smile changed when she noticed Sophie’s hands. 'Your hands have healed so well!' Bree was visibly shocked. 'Lucky we took you straight to hospital, rather than the station.'

  Sophie beamed but knew the real reason why her hands wore barely a glimpse of what they had been through. Sometimes, in certain lights, they shone a little silver, like a scar under moonlight or iridescent like mermaid's scales. It wasn't always that obvious though.

  Bree sat down without invitation and Sophie followed suit. 'I'm afraid there's still no word on Alex. He just seemed to disappear into thin air. There's no trace of him back at the camp and no one there has revealed anything about where he might be. I even suspect they genuinely don't know. Tracing his phone has come up completely empty, it has been off for far too long. I'm so sorry but we just don't know where he is. I promise you that we will keep doing everything we know how to do to find him. It's just an unusual case. There are no traces of his whereabouts, no signs of which way he has gone and certainly no evidence that we've found a body to match his. You could take all these things as signs of hope. But rest assured, I will keep you informed every step of the way.'

  Bree's seriousness didn't deter Sophie. It was clear she was good at her job. And whilst it absolutely confounded her that Alex could just disappear like that, she could have some understanding. She suspected he wanted to be safe, away from Carla and Clive. Perhaps he would show up now they were in jail. There were so many unanswered questions. But what Sophie knew was that she felt so much more solid in herself, even without Alex. For the first time in her life, she was relaxed and content, making friends with herself: madness, magic and all. Besides, she knew when she was ready for Alex to come back into her life, if she chose that's what she wanted, she knew she could make it happen.

  Bree's tone and face softened. 'I've mainly come to see how you're doing Soph? I know I betrayed you and my involvement in this case was never fully disclosed initially but I honestly hope you can forgive me and we can truly be friends?' Bree's eyes were shining and she unconsciously placed a hand to her chest.

  Sophie could read and feel the earnestness just pouring out of her. 'Yeah, I think I'd like that too, Bree. But we don't have to go back to those horrid groups, right?'

  Bree chortled so hard that she had to put her mug down. 'Oh, geez they were terrible, weren't they? I'm embarrassed to say that we were barking up the wrong tree there. The unit had suspected the group was in some way connected to The Tens but it turns out they were just a bunch of whack-a-doo hippies! Another thing I have to apologise for, I guess.'

  She paused and sipped her coffee, taking in Sophie with her eyes. 'I really am keen to be your friend, Sophie. I really like you. And to prove it, I've asked my boss's wife to meet with you. She owns a little gallery smack bang in the middle of the city. Would you be interested in showing her your art?'

  Sophie smiled directly at her. Since she'd been home, albeit without Alex, she'd been practising trusting herself and listening to what she really wanted, from deep inside of her. She could tell it was already taking effect because when she looked at Bree, everything inside of her said she was genuine: in her apology and in her gesture to help get her art sold. It felt right, all aligned, like there was nothing to fear. She followed that feeling. 'Oh Bree, I would love that. In fact, I've already been working on a new collection.' Sophie beckoned her into the dining room. 'It's called Abigail’s Liberty.'

  Spread across three easels and lining the floor and dining table were all sized canvasses that sported various birds of distinction. Each piece depicted the birds doing something meaningful, like they were trying to communicate through the pieces; with a slight cock of the head or gracefully mid-flight. Sophie was so proud of them. The pressure valve had been released enough for her to explode her art everywhere. As she had always wanted. The freedom was intoxicating; realising her imagined world onto paper was the best drug, or path to s
anity, she believed existed.

  There was a silent and steady knowing within her that these pieces were the ones she'd been waiting her whole life to birth.

  The birds were uncaged.

  The end.

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  About The Author

  Vanessa Jones