by Mark Hockley
yet intrigued.
"An undertaking beyond the boundaries of Witch Town."
Beth lay wide awake in her bed. She listened for the sound of footfalls in the corridor outside. It was only a matter of time before they would come for her.
She played the scene over and over in her mind. The way she had stabbed the syringe so violently into the woman's throat. The way the witch's eyes had seem to expand, far too big for her features. Then the way the woman had clawed at herself before she fell to the ground.
First a house maid, now a murderer! Her mind creaked under the weight of her actions. Beth knew that in some deep part of herself that she was struggling to hold onto her sense of reality and order. It was all too much.
She strained to listen, certain that somewhere distant she could hear the insistent sound of footsteps marching along the hallways of the Coven House, on their way to seize her and take her to be punished for her horrific crime.
She even sat up and tilted her head, trying to concentrate, sure there was something, a sound in the silence. But there was nothing. All was still and dark.
They would come sooner or later. For now, maybe no-one had discovered the body yet, but they would come.
Beth resolved to just remain as she was and laid her head back onto her pillow. She kept her eyes open staring at the ceiling.
She would wait all night and into the morning if necessary, knowing what must happen. Knowing that a murderer deserved no sympathy or mercy.
Five men were huddled inside the barn, a lone lantern the only illumination.
Daniel had performed his task well and they had been able to make their exit without being heard or seen. Now Zack found himself presented to this small group who eyed him with suspicion and trepidation.
"Why should we trust you?" asked a grey haired man gruffly before the boy could even get his eyes accustomed properly to the gloomy interior.
"Why should I trust you!" was Zack blunt response.
There was some low murmuring among them before the same man replied. "As good a answer as any other I suppose." But he seemed placated.
Jeremiah spoke urgently, his voice hushed. "Zack is as dissatisfied as we about the way things are. He is an outsider and is held here against his will. He has more reason than most to challenge the status quo."
Another of the men, a tall, bearded fellow interjected. "That is as may be. But his sister is one of the Black Coven now and a favourite of Margaret."
Zack felt his temper rising and when he spoke his voice was louder than it should have been. "Don't bring Ellie into this. She's doing what she has to. To survive. Isn't that what we're all doing? If you don't like how things are, why aren't you doing something about it?"
A smaller, younger man was the first to respond to this. "Haven't you noticed, the women are the powerful ones. We are only men."
The boy took a moment to take on the full impact of these words. Only men. Coming from his own background in the society he was brought up in, this seemed such an alien concept for him to grapple with. But in Witch Town he recognised that it was a fact.
"And," added the bearded man, "have you forgotten so soon what happened when you tried to take action against them? You may have killed one woman, but there are too many to fight them all."
Jeremiah stepped forward, making himself the centre of attention, his expression hard. "That is not the way," he stated with a conviction that demanded acceptance or conflict. "We do not advocate violence against the women. All we want is a fairer system."
The younger man sniffed derisively. "Nothing will change while we just stand idly by. And pacifism did not save Robert, did it? Ask your daughter? I'm sure she will put you straight on that!"
For a moment, Zack thought Jeremiah was going to lash out, his eyes narrowing with menace. But even though he took a step forward, he kept his fists clenched into tight balls. "This has nothing to do with her."
There was a palpable tension among them now and Zack was feeling confused by this turn of events. Jeremiah had a daughter? It was the first he had heard of it.
The grey haired man attempted to bring some order. "This is not about family allegiance, despite the fact that we men have very little say or influence when it comes to our offspring. This is about our role in Witch Town. The women rule because they speak the Words. We cannot change that."
Zack was getting frustrated. "But they need you, to do their work, don't they? Or could they just conjure up their vegetables and their milk and their bread. And then cook their food and make their clothes and everything else you do for them? Do they have Words for all of that!?"
The other men looked back at him, but no one said anything. Finally Jeremiah was the one to pass comment. "All of that may be true. But they do not value what we do. Have you even considered our history. Do you think we are all the product of inbreeding? James," he addressed the bearded man, "tell him what you remember."
All eyes were focused on the man named James as he began to speak. "All I know is I was not born in Witch Town. I remember something before coming here. I was very young, but I remember. A woman in a white dress. She loved me I think. The memory has become hazy, but I know it was real. They took me away and brought me here. They took me away from my mother. And I hate them for it."
"You see," Jeremiah addressed Zack, "The women take what they need. They have taken you and your friend. They don't need to waste their Words on these things. They have us and we serve them."
"But you are married to them. You have children with them. Doesn't that mean you have feelings?"
There were a few harsh chuckles among them and the grey haired man replied with some venom. "They use us. It's no different than mating a mare with a stallion. To propagate and continue. It's just a necessity. And as for our children, do not delude yourself. They are soon taught to know what their fathers are. Husbands are no more than that. There are Mothers and there are husbands. No fathers for the children of Witch Town."
Zack felt stung by this. It seemed so horrible, more so when he considered his blossoming attachment to Leonie. "So you don't have any relationship with them at all. Not even your children? None at all!?"
Jeremiah's voice was subdued when he answered. "Sometimes we try," he voiced softly. "but it is very difficult to break the conditioning of childhood."
"But your daughter," the boy persisted, "doesn't she see you, spend time with you?" He couldn't believe that these men did not share any connection with their own flesh and blood.
With great intensity Jeremiah looked back at him and there was something so deeply felt in his eyes that Zack could barely meet his gaze. "You should know better than I. You are closer to my daughter than I will ever be. Leonie chooses her own path does she not?"
22
I'm going to get out of here. Really? There's got to be a catch. But of course I know they won't let me go alone and Zack and the others won't get to tag along. But I must be able to find a way of getting help. Mum will have called the police by now. They'll be looking for us. It will be all over the TV. I just need to play along. But what will I say if I do find some way to get help. Hello I've just come from Witch Town. It's somewhere in the woods and it's hidden by magic. And oh yes, I'm one of the witches!
There was an insistent rapping at the door.
With a start Beth came awake. For a second she was confused about where she was, then it came back to her. Memory kicked in and the reality of her situation came crashing down upon her.
How could she have fallen asleep? With everything that had happened? Apparently her body had overridden her mind and exhaustion had taken control.
The knocking continued. Why didn't they just come in?
Beth pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared at the door. "Who is it?" she ventured, her voice somewhat muted.
"Open the door," came a voice. A male voice.
The girl shifted herself on the bed and slid her body over to sit on the side. She felt disorientated. "Who is it!?" she repea
ted, this time a little more clearly.
"It's Joshua," came the clipped response, "will you open the door."
"It's not locked. Come in." Beth hadn't undressed the night before so she still wore her work clothes, although of course they were rather creased and dishevelled.
Tentatively the door was pushed open and Joshua stuck his head inside. He appeared nervous and agitated. "I wasn't sure if you would be dressed." He said this with a frown, his eyes moving from her to the ground and then back to Beth again.
Confusion was making it difficult for Beth to focus properly. "What do you want?" she asked with exasperation. Why was he there? Where were the witches who should have come to take her away by now?
"What do you mean?" the boy shot back, "I want you to start work. Why are you still here? You're late!"
"Late?" Beth managed to mimic.
"Is there something wrong with you?" he questioned, now staring at her intently. "You should have started work an hour ago. You're lucky no-one else has noticed other than me."
Beth just could not make sense of what was going on. "Hasn't anything happened?" she queried anxiously.
"Happened!? What are you talking about? The only thing that has happened is that you aren't doing your work. And I'm saving you a lot of trouble by coming here when really I should just report you."
"Nothing," breathed the girl, "Nothing at all?"
Joshua was becoming infuriated. "What were you hoping for? A day off!? We don't get any time off
