by S M Hardy
Tanith held the blood-smeared sickle above her head and stalked across the circle to stand behind Emma, roughly grabbing a handful of her hair to jerk her head back, exposing her bare throat.
‘The choice is yours, Jed. Show yourself or your wife dies.’
Tanith was smiling, her red lips as curved as the blade hovering so close to Emma’s neck. I didn’t have any doubt she’d do it. I could see it in the way she stood and how she ran the pointed tip of her tongue along her lips as though she couldn’t wait to taste Emma’s blood. I laid the shotgun on the ground where I could find it later, should I need to, and walked into the clearing.
Oliver laughed as he beckoned Tanith to return to his side. ‘I would have been disappointed had you not escaped,’ he said. ‘When I didn’t get a call from Sebastien upon Reynard’s arrival I knew you had probably done away with one, if not both, of them. I’m assuming they’re both dead,’ he said, his eyes on my chest. I glanced down. My shirt and jacket were dark with blood.
I didn’t reply. ‘Are you both OK?’ I asked Emma and Laura.
Emma nodded with a half-smile. Laura’s was more of a haughty grimace. Laura was definitely cut from the same cloth as Emma.
‘Time for some fun, I think,’ Oliver said. ‘As Simon rated you so much, we’re going to have a little contest.’
Tanith touched his sleeve. ‘Are you sure, dahling?’
Oliver’s smile turned into a snarl. ‘Simon had more respect for him than he ever had for me. I’m going to prove him wrong.’
She wrapped one arm around him and, looking me up and down, tapped her bottom lip with her forefinger as if in thought. ‘It would be nice to have some fun.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ he said and, hugging her to him, he gave me a supercilious smirk. ‘Here’s the rules. I will give you a ten-minute start. If you make it off the estate without being caught by my friends here, I’ll set your good lady wife free and you and I will have a little talk about your future; if not, she joins the lovely Laura on her journey into the hereafter and, I can tell you now, it will be quite a journey.’
There were shouts of approval from some of the other partygoers, but I noticed there were more who remained silent.
‘If I escape, you set Emma and Laura free,’ I said.
He snorted. ‘I’m the one making the rules.’
‘So you have some doubt your crazy gang can catch me without getting themselves killed.’
There was a murmur from within the ranks.
‘You’re not as young and fit as you used to be,’ Oliver sneered. ‘Like Simon, you’re past your prime – an old man.’
‘And yet you’re not willing to wager Laura’s life on a race between me and them?’ The murmur turned into an angry grumble. There were only four or five who were really up for this, though I didn’t doubt the others would join in if they had to. ‘Sounds like a lack of confidence to me.’
I kept my hands hanging loose by my sides trying to appear relaxed. Inside my gut was churning.
‘He’ll never make it, dahling. Let him think he has a chance and then you can make him watch while we have some fun before I cut their throats.’
He fondled her breast through the silken robe as he stared at me, his lips tugging upwards. They were a seriously vile pair of monsters and, if nothing else, it made me all the more determined to beat them at their own sick game.
‘All right, then. It’s decided. You get ten minutes before I set my hellhounds upon you.’ Some of the congregation began to bark and snarl as if rabid dogs. ‘If you don’t make it off the grounds, or should I say, when you don’t make it off the grounds, the two ladies die.’
‘And what about Mr Cummings?’ Tanith asked.
He laughed. ‘You, my dear, can have him to play with for a few days, before he follows his wife into the underworld. I’m sure you can make his mental anguish dull into insignificance with your inventive talents.’
I forced myself not to shudder. I looked away. I didn’t want to see her lascivious expression. The thought of spending one single moment alone with the loathsome woman was enough to raise gooseflesh on my arms.
My eyes met Emma’s. She mouthed ‘I love you’ and I smiled at her, hoping that it wouldn’t be for the last time and that she recognised my love for her in that smile. I think she did, then her lips formed the words ‘good luck’. I was going to need it, but she didn’t need to know it.
‘Right,’ Oliver said, lifting his arm so his robe flopped back to reveal a very expensive Rolex. It was totally incongruous on his naked arm and I almost laughed. The man was a total tool and mad to boot. If he was ever brought to justice, he would most likely end his days in the same psych ward where his brother had languished for all those years. ‘You have ten minutes from … now.’
I swung around to leave the clearing the same way as I’d come in and jogged the first few steps. Oliver’s cronies’ chants of, ‘Run piggy, run piggy, run, run, run,’ ringing in my ears.
I stooped down to grab the sawn-off and then I did run. In my head a voice was screaming ‘Too slow, too slow!’, but I wasn’t about to give up yet.
I abruptly changed direction so I was going away from the manor. I had to hope Oliver would assume I was travelling towards the house, where I had my car and possibly weapons. I had counted twelve of them including Oliver and Tanith. He would have to leave someone with Emma and Laura. One at least, so there would be ten or possibly eleven coming after me. Not many people to cover such a huge estate. Which made me wonder – why was he so confident his people would find me?
It didn’t take me too long to work it out. Moving away from the fires in the clearing it was so dark I could hardly see a thing and to go too quickly was to risk putting out an eye. Not that speed was a possibility. Brambles and other vegetation clung to my clothing and tore at my skin as I forced my way through the trees.
I was beginning to despair. I must have used at least five minutes and was going nowhere fast. I took a moment to peer about me. I could still hear them chanting. I was too close, much too close. Hot fuck, I wasn’t about to give up now. I took a deep breath and soft fingers traced their way across my brow followed by whispers in my head. I looked around again and glimpsed a wispy shape moving away from me, weaving in and out of the trees. I started towards it.
There was no rhyme or reason I could explain. I knew instinctively whatever it was it was there to help and, after a few steps, I could feel the difference under my feet, I had found a path.
From behind us I heard a roar. My time had just run out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I ran along the path to the sound of whooping and jeering. I hoped it wasn’t going to end the same way as it had for Edward, surrounded by a baying mob of men and women who were not much better than rabid animals.
No, I was damned if it was going to end that way. I slowed and moved off to the side of the path and waited. And as I waited I had time to think. Why disrupt his festival to hunt me? He wouldn’t – not for long. He wanted me out of the way, but not dead – yet. I would wait it out. Someone would either come this way or not. If not, I would remain hidden until it all went quiet and wind my way back to the chapel. If they did – well – the hunted was just about to become the hunter.
They were still making a racket, but from the sounds of their calls I guessed they had fanned out. I noticed it was only men’s voices I could hear. Tanith aside, I guessed murder and rape were mainly male-dominated pastimes.
I crouched down beside a tree and behind some vegetation, listening out for the slightest sound. Minutes ticked by. The shouting was coming mainly from the right of me and far enough away not to be worrying. Then a cold palm cupped the back of my head. Danger was apparently closing in on me. It was the snap of an ill-placed foot upon a twig that gave him away. He was coming from behind me.
Very carefully I swivelled around. I caught a glimpse of movement in the darkness. I kept my head well down hiding behind a bush. He stopped, his head tu
rning from side to side. I strained my eyes to see. Something moved in the crowns of the trees above us making the leaves rustle and shake and his head jerked upwards. In the little light filtering down through the spreading leaves there was a glint of glass. He was wearing glasses of some description – perhaps safety glasses.
I considered how I was going to deal with him. Whatever I did it would have to be quiet. I couldn’t take the chance of him crying out. The old me made the decision. Bodies were piling up and mine wasn’t going to be one of them. I laid the shotgun on the ground beside me and reached for my knife.
He took a couple more steps until he was right beside me and stopped. One more step – just take one more step. He stood there and once again his head moved from side to side, but he was looking straight ahead not down. I prayed it’d stay that way and he’d take one more stride. I began to ease onto the balls of my feet getting ready to make my move and, as he took the one extra pace I needed, a shrill trill filled the air. I froze, holding back a surprised gasp, and a mobile appeared in his hand lighting up his face.
‘Shit, fuck and damn it,’ he muttered, his other hand wrenching the goggles onto his brow.
Goggles; he was wearing night-vision goggles. No wonder Oliver was so confident they would find me, some of his rabid dogs had the advantage of being able to see in the dark.
He rubbed at his eyes, half-blinded by the glare from his phone. ‘Shit,’ he said again before stabbing his finger onto the screen and pressing it against his ear. ‘What?’ he said with a disgruntled bark, then another indistinct voice at the other end of the phone. ‘Nah. Seen hide nor hair.’ He listened again. ‘Huh, if that’s what he wants. Twenty minutes it is.’
He jabbed his finger at the screen and, swearing under his breath, the light went out. I rose out of the dark behind him. Plastering my hand across his mouth I pulled his head back and, with a swift left to right motion, slit his throat. He struggled for a brief moment, then his hands clutched at his neck trying to stem the torrent of blood as the realisation hit him that he was bleeding out. I held him tight, my hand still over his mouth until he sagged against me and stilled. I slowly lowered him to the ground. Three nil to me.
I took the goggles from him, put them on and the world about me came alive. This was more like it. I hefted the shotgun under my arm. I had work to do and, if I was reading the situation right, I had twenty minutes to do it. Twenty minutes before they all headed back. I took a few seconds to check his pockets. There was nothing of any use to me; a small ceremonial dagger and his leather mask was all.
I took one last look at him. His face looked like a bleached mask through the goggles, even so he seemed familiar. As I moved away, I wracked my brains as to who he might be. He wasn’t a member of staff, that was for sure. It would no doubt come to me. For the meantime, I had more important things to worry about.
I scooted away from the track and into the forest, the goggles allowing me to see the trees and vegetation in stark black and white. I’d used this sort of equipment several times before and it didn’t take long for me to slip back thirty-odd years.
Some of the people searching for me were easy to see, they had torches – mainly of the flaming variety – but several did have flashlights and if I were to get close to them I’d have to be careful, the beam of a light in the eyes when wearing night-vision goggles was not a pleasant experience as my dead friend bore witness. And it was then that it came to me – the hospital – he had been at the hospital. The orderly in Simon’s ward, handing out the water jugs. What the f—? Were Oliver’s people everywhere?
Shaken, I followed his rabid rabble at a distance. They had stopped their constant gung-ho calling and jeering, though I still heard the occasional shout between them and after a while the majority of them began heading towards the clearing. This was good as they had their backs to me as I stalked along behind them.
I was close enough that I could see the torches bobbing about amongst the trees as they gradually drifted towards each other until most of them converged into a line winding through the woodland.
‘Listen up,’ I heard a voice shout. ‘We’re to go straight to the chapel.’
A few stragglers moved in behind the others. As I grew closer, I could hear them grumbling as they’d missed out on their fun.
I dodged from tree to tree keeping an eye out for anyone who might have got around behind me, but to my back there were only trees. If they were heading for the chapel, I had a little longer before they were out in the open. I would have to make my move before then. I closed in on the last couple of stragglers. The one at the back was a big lumbering lump of a man. Big and beefy and the sort I’d rather was out of the way now and certainly before I followed them into the chapel.
I dropped down to take the knife from my ankle sheath and, at exactly the same moment, the guy a few yards ahead of him swung around. I froze, shielding my eyes with my hand.
‘For fuck’s sake, Gideon, get a move on. If you don’t, you’ll miss out on all the fun.’
‘Huh, he said he wasn’t going to kill them if y’ald man got away,’ the man I assumed to be Gideon said in a voice as slow and lumbering as his gait.
‘Who said anything about killing ’em? Though I suppose he will, but not until we’ve all had some fun,’ and he made a lewd gesture with his fist in front of his groin.
My hand tightened around the hilt of my blade.
Gideon laughed. ‘Now that’s the kinda fun I like.’
The other man turned away to stride ahead.
‘I’ll catch you later,’ Gideon called after him. ‘I need a piss.’
The other man flipped a hand in reply and disappeared into the trees along with the glow from his torch.
Gideon stopped and lifted his robe to face a tree. I dropped the blade into my pocket, I couldn’t risk him making a sound, and covered the yard or so between us as he shook himself off. I grabbed him from behind, one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his head and with one quick, sharp jerk it was done and he sunk silently to the ground. I had raised my odds of succeeding by another few per cent. I briefly thought of ridding him of his robe and discarded it almost immediately – I hadn’t the time, or the inclination. Even the idea of wearing the red robe made me feel sick.
I hurried along, weaving through the trees to catch the other man. I needed to get to him before he joined the others or realised his mate had gone missing. He was moving at a fair old lick, his torch leaving a blazing trail in the dark behind him. He and the others had bypassed the clearing and would soon be leaving the cover of the forest for the fields beyond and the track that ran alongside them to the stables. I gained speed. One more down now would be one less to worry about later.
There was a flash of light and movement directly in front of me. He was definitely in a hurry and I tried not to think about why he should be so eager to get back to Kingsmead. I was hindered by the need for stealth, but the trees ahead were thinning and I had minutes before he broke out into open countryside. I strode after him. He swerved slightly. I followed. Damn it, the trees were opening up. I pulled the blade from my pocket.
He abruptly stopped. Began to turn. I lifted the goggles and drew back my arm.
‘Gideon …’ He saw me. His eyes grew wide, his mouth opened to shout and I threw the knife. It hit him in the left side of his chest, right where his black heart should be. He gasped, looking down in incomprehension as his legs folded beneath him and he fell to the ground with a dull thud.
I waited one second. No one had seen, no one had heard. Hurrying over I dropped down beside him to retrieve my knife and wipe it on his robe. His eyes were still open and I hesitated, wondering who was behind the mask. I decided to leave it be, I didn’t need to know who else Oliver and Tanith had corrupted. Inexplicably I thought of the young, floppy-haired youth who had helped with our cases on the first day we’d arrived. I hoped he wasn’t one of the people who would die tonight. He had only been about sixteen or seventeen. The same
age as Simon had been when he had joined the Order of the Blood, I reminded myself.
I climbed to my feet. I couldn’t start feeling sorry for these people. They had Emma and Laura and would do terrible things to them if I didn’t do equally terrible things first. No, there was a difference: I wouldn’t enjoy doing what I had to do to save my wife and friend. I would do it because they gave me no choice. I wondered whether a court of law would see it differently and realised I didn’t care. If I saved Emma and Laura they could put me away for ever as long as they were safe. As long as Emma was safe.
Waiting inside the edge of the forest I watched until the line of torches had started down the track towards the house, before pocketing the goggles and following on behind at a distance. Out at the clearing I’d had room to manoeuvre, inside the chapel was going to be – difficult. I was beginning to regret my decision not to strip Gideon of his robe. It had been a clean kill. His mate’s hadn’t. I couldn’t see any way around it. I needed a robe and the only way of getting one would be to risk taking out another of them before they reached the chapel. Difficult when they were in a fairly close group.
I needed to get closer. I had to be close enough that if an opportunity presented itself I’d be ready and waiting. I veered off the track at the next gap in the hedgerow and ran along in a low crouch keeping as close to the shrubbery as I could until I was next to the last stragglers, and again I wished I hadn’t been so squeamish about taking Gideon’s robe. I was a big bloke. He had been a big bloke. The last one or two in the line of people returning to the house were too short. Their robes would hang only halfway down my calves, giving me away immediately.
