by Guy N Smith
It couldn't be him, though, for this was a younger man, a youth. Marie Halestrom approached to within a yard or two, saw the upturned bloated face, the expression of agony, eyes that pleaded for help. Her mouth went dry, her stomach contracted so that she thought she was going to be sick. She moved closer, bent down, and then she saw the full horror of that which lay before her.
The puffed body was alive with snakes, how many she didn't know, didn't attempt to count them. The reptiles were around the neck, biting at the throat, encircling the thighs and stabbing in search of veins and arteries. A host of tiny eyes that saw her and ignored her. Their victim was trying to speak, making noises as though his mouth was full, a swollen hand lifted weakly and fell back.
Marie Halestrom wanted to scream but even at the height of her terror her main concern was for Amanda. The child must not see this. But Amanda was already looking, her eyes missing nothing. Yet there was no fear in them, no revulsion … just that familiar fury building up to its peak!
Marie felt herself starting to panic and fought to curb it, she had to do something positive. They must get help as soon as possible and that meant running back to the village, using the phone box there. Going back to Gabor …
It was with that awful realisation, bemused by the sheer terror of this latest tragedy, that Marie relaxed her hold on Amanda. There was no hint of what the child had in mind until it happened; her small hand snatched free, whirling in one swift movement, darting off into the enshrouding darkness. So quick that she was lost to sight before Marie realised that she was gone.
‘Amanda!’ Marie screamed. ‘Amanda, come back …’
A cry of hopelessness that seemed to echo as far as the distant mountains, mocking her, then the sound of running plimsolls fading until there was silence except for the moans of the dying snake victim.
Something brushed against her foot, had her leaping away, catching a glimpse of the slithering form with that awful zigzag stripe down its back. Running heedlessly back down the road, abandoning her suitcase, praying that she would catch Amanda but knowing she wouldn't. Damn Ron and his selfishness, this wouldn't have happened if he had come along with her. And damn whoever had slashed the tyres on the Citroën.
Marie ran until her lungs hurt and there was a pain in her side like she used to get at school when they went on cross-country runs. Only then did she lessen her pace to a fast walk, glancing behind her all the time, fearful of spotting a slithering, wriggling adder in pursuit.
How long it took her to reach the village she had no idea. Ten minutes, an hour? She had lost all track of time. The twin rows of cottages had an air of desertion about them, not a single light showing from the windows. The villagers followed an age-old custom that darkness was bedtime; she contemplated knocking on doors, shouting, but what would have been the use? She was an ‘outsider’, they wouldn't help her. Her only hope was the phone box. That fear again that it might have been vandalised had her dragging the heavy door open, grabbing the receiver and holding it to her ear. Thank God, there was a dialling tone!
The police or Ron? No, she had to tell her husband first, he'd have to take over. She dialled, heard it ringing out at the other end. Oh please hurry, Ron, I need you as I've never needed you before!
‘Halestrom speaking.’
His voice brought a gasp of relief from her lips, an almost hysterical babble of ‘Ron, there's a man up the road with snakes crawling all over him and Amanda's gone off again and …’
‘Are you mad?’ his tone was clipped.
‘No, I'm not!’ almost a scream. ‘Ron, you've got to come quickly. There's no time to be lost.’
‘Where are you?’
‘The phone box in the village. Oh, hurry please.’
‘Stay right there and I'll be with you in just the time it takes me to get there. I'll phone the police, also, if Amanda really is missing.’
‘She is, Ron. Please hurry.’
The telephone went dead and Marie Halestrom suddenly felt faint, thought for a moment that she was going to pass out. She kicked the door open and wedged it with her foot, tried to let some air into the claustrophobic cubicle, found her eyes trained on the shaft of light. Watching it, ready to slam it shut instantly if … if she saw an adder!
Frustration mingled with her terror. It was Amanda who worried her most. There was definitely something troubling the child, something which Gabor had brought to a head, something that was dangerous. More dangerous than those snakes which were loose in the surrounding countryside. Marie had always had a fear of snakes; she would never forget that time when her parents had taken her to the zoo for the first time. It had been a great day out until they had gone into the reptile house. She had almost become hysterical when she'd seen those crawling slimy horrors in their glass cages, had screamed to be taken outside but instead her mother had given her a slap for ‘being stupid’. Marie had had nightmares for weeks afterwards, still did sometimes, waking up in a cold sweat, terrified of the dark. Tonight seemed to be a culmination of all those fears only a hundred times worse because that man in the road could have been herself … or Amanda! And Amanda was out there somewhere right now!
The church clock was striking. Marie counted the chimes. Eleven. Beyond the circle of light cast by the bulb in the kiosk there was nothing but darkness. This was how the people of Gabor wanted it - shut away in their houses with none of them venturing forth. Maybe they were right after all.
Still listening, still ready to slam that door and cower inside this glass box at the first sound of … She heard a car's engine, the noise growing louder by the second, then saw its headlights, illuminating the street. It was a small van, slowing, coming to a halt directly opposite the phone box. Oh God, how beautiful that large luminous lettering on the vehicle's side was - POLICE!
Two men jumped out, slammed the doors. She recognised them instantly; her own husband and the stoic Sergeant Williams. Marie ran to meet them, almost sobbing with relief, a welcome respite in this night of terror. At least she wasn't alone anymore.
‘We'd better have a look at this man you saw first.’ There was just a hint of scepticism in the policeman's tone. ‘As I've been telling your husband, I've radioed for reinforcements and the dog handler. We'll find your daughter, Mrs Halestrom.’ But will we find her alive or dead?
Marie crushed into the van, sat on Ron's knee, hardly dared to watch the road ahead. Another sensation which she had not experienced since childhood - car-sickness. She might faint or vomit, or both. She forced herself to hold on, told herself she would keep going for Amanda's sake. Once Amanda was safe nothing else mattered.
She tensed, knew that at any moment they would come upon … Her stomach churned as the sergeant suddenly braked and if Ron Halestrom had not been holding her tightly she would have banged her head on the windscreen. It was all there, illuminated in the headlights, that grotesquely swollen naked body, dead eyes that were still wide open, those final moments of fear frozen so that there was no mistaking the agony and the terror which had been Paddy Johnson's. But there was no sign of the adders; not a single snake was to be seen!
Sergeant Williams got out, left the engine running and approached the corpse. Marie was instinctively screaming a mute warning; the darkness could have hidden anything.
‘I'm afraid he's beyond help.’ The police officer returned to the vehicle, his features deathly pallid but it could have been the reflection from the headlights. ‘You were right, Mrs Halestrom, he's been bitten by adders. He must have disturbed a nest of them somewhere. Never known them attack a human being like that Usually one will bite if it's cornered or trodden on but they don't go for humans in numbers.’
He broke off, spoke into a crackling radio.
‘Amanda ran off in the direction of the village,’ Marie said when he had finished. ‘I don't think she went that far though and I didn't catch her up although I ran as fast as I could most of the way. She turned off somewhere … I think … she's gone to the wood again!’
‘The dog handler and the reinforcements will be here any second.’ Williams' reply was expressionless. ‘Perhaps you and your wife, Mr Halestrom, would like to return home whilst …’
‘No!’ Marie snapped. ‘We're not going home until Amanda's found. Even if you won't let us go with you we'll go on up into the wood ourselves. It is our wood, you know, Sergeant.’
‘Please yourselves.’ Williams was opening the door again as a red and white police patrol car drew up, an unmarked Escort van close behind it. ‘These are the chaps we've been waiting for. Now we can get started.’
Marie found herself instinctively backing away from the three Alsatians although they were on a leash held by a tall uniformed policeman. Savage brutes, no different from wolves, and they're going to use them to hunt my baby!
‘We'll take the wood first.’ A young inspector whom neither of the Halestroms had seen before was issuing instructions. ‘The sergeant informs me it's hard going in there so I think we'll put the dogs in and keep to the outskirts ourselves.’
‘Madam,’ he turned to Marie. ‘have you some item of clothing belonging to your child from which the dogs could get a scent?’
‘That suitcase.’ Marie pointed to her fallen suitcase by the side of the road. ‘There're plenty of her things in there. And, Inspector, my husband and I are going into the wood itself.’
The inspector found a folded dress of Amanda's in the case, one that she had worn earlier that day and on which the scent was still fresh. The handler let the Alsatians sniff it and then everybody was filing through the gate into the field. From here the ground rose steeply up to Gabor Wood, a mass of black shadows against a dark sky, indiscernible trees seeming to bunch together as if in an attempt to obstruct the forthcoming chase. Evil protecting evil.
Suddenly the three police dogs were sniffing the ground eagerly, whimpering, straining at their leash.
‘They've got a scent.’ The handler sounded jubilant. ‘The child came this way. I'll have to stick with the dogs now, let them have their head.’
Suddenly canine noises shattered the stillness of the night, a low growling that escalated into a howl. The mournful baying vibrated from the wood across to the mountains, a sound like rumbling thunder that didn't die away. Policemen stared in bewilderment at each other, the dog handler cursing his dogs for the way they cringed and drew back.
‘What's that?’ The inspector's voice sounded less assured than it had a few minutes ago. ‘Sounds like there's a pack of dogs loose.’
Marie Halestrom clutched at Ron's hand, could not bring herself to put her fearful thoughts into words. It's the Gabor Hounds and when they're heard somebody's going to die. And Amanda's up there in the wood!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - THE FINAL RECKONING
Amanda's natural fear of snakes was overshadowed by her awareness of an enemy, an inexplicable knowledge that the man she hated most was close to them. Possibly he controlled the snakes, had set them on the dead man in the same way that a pack of ferocious dogs could be ordered to kill. Maybe and maybe not, but Beguildy was around somewhere and suddenly all the evil of Gabor was converging, a powerful force that was capable of destroying anybody who stood in its path. Except herself!
She recalled again her meeting with the face in the pool, the features which had belonged to Donna O'Brien and yet were not Donna's. That was when she had come to know all that she knew now even if she did not fully understand it. Now it was up to her and she must not be thwarted by anybody; she had to run and hide so that her mother did not catch her up, to be free this coming night.
She could hear Marie Halestrom in pursuit, not in the way a normal hearing child of her age would have picked up the sound but instead a drumming vibration on the road made more distinctive by the crunching of chippings. She read a lot more than that, picked up the fear and panic in her mother's footsteps.
Amanda saw the gate in the hedge, knew that somewhere beyond those steep fields lay Gabor Wood. She climbed the bars, jumped down the other side, began to run again. A few yards further on the ground got steeper and she slowed to a walk. She'd have to rest for a few minutes but that would not matter because Mummy wouldn't be coming up here; she'd keep on the road back to the village, maybe even go home and get Daddy. But they wouldn't find Amanda.
As she sat there in the soft springy grass she recalled her dream last night about those snakes. There had been dozens of them but she had not been in the least frightened. Just the reverse in fact, almost as though the adders were intent on keeping out of her way, squiggly frightened creatures that had taken refuge in an old hollow tree stump and thought they were safe from her there. She had let them think it, had been trying to will Beguildy to go to that part of the wood and rest his weary body on the stump, but somewhere something had gone wrong and instead an unknown youth had been bitten to death.
Amanda blamed the girl in the pool, whom she called Donna. If she hadn't taken Donna's advice to go to the Mainwaring grave then none of this would have happened. Everything was suddenly going haywire; it was very frightening.
She knew the old woman had gone to join Donna in the pool; that was Donna's doing. The man who had hanged himself was likewise beyond her powers. That was when she knew that conflicting forces were at work but they couldn't hurt her. Beguildy was the focal point, the real danger, and now even he was on the run. She had to keep it that way.
Amanda skirted Gabor Wood, moving swiftly and silently until she found the track which led down to Beguildy's cottage. Now she was more wary, flitting from bush to bush, sensing the danger in the atmosphere around her. A heaviness that was alive with inexplicable forces seemed to whisper a warning: Go back, child, this is no place for you. Go before it is too late. Do not interfere with us!
But the warning went unheeded. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. Her intuition preceded the smell of smoke which her nostrils picked up. Then, like distant fireflies through the gaps in the trees, she saw the flames. Beguildy's home was ablaze!
She proceeded with even more caution, peering around tree trunks, seeing the way the old roof suddenly caved in amidst a shower of sparks. The far wall was glowing red, tottering, any minute it would collapse, too. But Beguildy wasn't in there, she knew that only too well. Nothing so clumsy and unimaginative as setting fire to his home would destroy him! Again things had gone wrong, those conflicting forces creating havoc without achieving any real purpose. At least none that she was aware of.
Amanda approached to within twenty yards of the blaze, felt the heat on her face. Anywhere else and it would have caused a woodland fire but down in this hollow everything was so damp. She remained perfectly still, watching, no longer interested in the flames, only the light they cast on the surrounding trees, a weird orange glow that created flickering shadowy shapes, reflected every movement of the billowing smoke and toppling stonework.
She forced herself to be patient. He was here somewhere, she could feel him, a slight prickling of her skin like she had got from the sight of those snakes earlier. Her own warning system had picked up something repulsive, something alien.
Then she saw Beguildy, gaunt and stooping, still wearing the old raincoat and ridiculously small hat, circling his blazing home as though trying to pluck up courage to dart amongst the flames to rescue some belongings. But he didn't have any possessions apart from a few pieces of junk which he had either begged or stolen.
Amanda could see his face clearly. The hair and beard seemed a lighter shade of grey, almost pure white in places as though Beguildy had suddenly aged considerably. So bent and frail, too. And the eyes reflected some unspeakable anguish, an inner agony that was eating him away like a fast-growing cancer.
The childish part of her pitied him, a penniless homeless hermit; the other part of her, the one she did not fully understand, had her trembling with a hatred that blended into an overwhelming desire for revenge. For was not Beguildy the ancient Bemorra reborn to continue the evil; and was not she … Amanda didn't know who she
was inside. She was Amanda Halestrom at home and at school but at other times … she'd never been able to work it out, hadn't really had time because it was only a few days since she had come to Gabor and that was when it had all begun. Sometimes she felt as an autumn leaf must when caught up in a sudden gust of wind, helpless to control its own destination. But not now. Suddenly she knew what she had to do to destroy the evil that ruled Gabor. It was the Mainwaring girl who had told her what had to be done on that afternoon when the thunderstorm raged. Amanda had never actually seen her, just heard the voice coming from somewhere in that old overgrown cemetery. And that was enough.
Amanda stepped out from amongst the trees, abandoned all stealth for it mattered no longer. The heat seemed to lash her like an angry dragon's breath. Clouds of sparks billowed skywards crackling like rapid machine-gun fire. She ignored them, stood with folded arms watching the shuffling figure of Beguildy.
Then he saw her. The onlooker might have been forgiven for presuming that he had trodden on a glowing ember with his bare feet; he straightened up, his former agility returning instantly as he leaped back, bearded lips wide in an animal snarl of surprise, eyes bulging with terror. Crouching, a beast of the chase at bay, his inarticulate roaring louder than the noise of the fire.
Amanda seemed to have changed yet again. The anger had disappeared, replaced by a disarming smile, an air of total innocence, almost embarrassment, shifting her slight weight from one foot to the other.
Beguildy's roar died away, those wide eyes narrowed into thin slits, his mouth hanging open in an expression of amazement. Yet the fear, the mistrust, still lingered. He backed away another pace, wrapped his old coat even tighter around his lean body as though it offered protection.
