RUNNERS

by Sharon Sant

  Gloomy daybreak stole into the room. Elijah woke to find Sky and Rowan already up, engrossed in a hushed conversation. They saw him sit up and broke off.

  ‘The thunder’s stopped,’ Rowan commented with forced carelessness. As he spoke a low rumble echoed through the room. Rowan expelled a huge sigh of resignation.

  There was another tense and claustrophobic twenty-four hours to endure before the storm abated. During that time there was very little discussion of Elijah’s misdemeanour, but plenty of accusing glances in his direction and anxious glances out of the windows. Tempers were frayed, and every hour the weather held them up was another torturous hour of delaying the inevitable departure. Elijah didn’t dare voice what he hoped. No one had been seen near the house; perhaps the accusations against him hadn’t been taken seriously after all and, perhaps, they were safe to stay. He wondered if anyone else would say it.

  The next day proved to be better for travelling. Though it was still raining heavily, the thunder and lightning had died away. The soil had eroded badly in places due to the extremely dry weather and then immediate rains. Little rivulets and potholes had formed along the dirt road outside and the grass was boggy but, on the whole, it was traversable.

  ‘There’s no reason we can’t get going today.’ Xavier fixed Elijah with a look of perverse satisfaction. Elijah got the feeling that he was determined to move everyone now, regardless of the necessity, just to make him feel worse.

  Breakfast was a silent affair and then the final preparations to leave began. Anything that could be carried and made useful was packed. Elijah’s own clothes had dried out but Jimmy told him to keep his as a spare set. Elijah had a strong suspicion this was so that Jimmy had less to carry.

  Amongst their equipment was a large tarpaulin sheet they had found in the old outhouse. As no one had a tent, they agreed that it would be useful and to take turns carrying it. Xavier had returned to full strength and oversaw preparations, making a point of undoing everything that Elijah did and doing it again himself. The fourth time this happened saw blood rush to Elijah’s face in angry blotches. Sky took him to one side.

  ‘Try not to get riled. He’s just mad right now, but everyone will be fine as soon as we find somewhere else to settle.’

  ‘No, we won’t,’ cut in Rosa as she caught Sky’s words.

  Sky gave Elijah’s hand a quick squeeze but her reassurance was wasted. Rosa’s attitude had stung him and he knew that the others felt the same way. He didn’t think he could feel any more miserable, but then his stolen rucksack was replaced with a mouldering kitbag that had been found in the house. It stank and was huge, meaning he had to carry more than the others. It had been stuffed with essential cookware, his sleeping bag, Jimmy’s spare clothing and his dad’s enormous coat. He hardly felt in a position to complain, glad as he was to still be allowed to travel with them, but he was sure that, ordinarily, Xavier would have taken at least some of this burden upon himself.

  Clouds of gnats hung lazily in the humid air as they left the house for the final time. Xavier had decided to head cross country, which would be more troublesome, but would make them more difficult to follow. There was an unspoken pact not to look back and the group trudged away with grim determination. Before they had even gone a mile they were all splashed up to their knees in mud, with stiff joints and burning muscles but, somehow, the distance from the scene of his misdemeanour seemed to soften everyone towards Elijah. Despite the wet and discomfort, he couldn’t help but harbour a faint glimmer of hope that everything would work out.

  Back at the derelict house, now miles behind them, the storm had loosened and washed away layers of soil in the field just beyond the boundaries. Standing proud of the swirling mud was the exposed toe of a human foot.

  Six: Palmer’s Mill

  The rain continued to drizzle relentlessly, revitalising the countryside so that every corner radiated a different shade of green. The first night spent out in the open was wet and uncomfortable. Jimmy, being the fastest walker, had agreed to scout ahead and came back with the location of a copse of dense trees and shrubs. They headed for this, where the ground would be cushioned by fallen leaves and, hopefully, dryer. Xavier, Elijah and Jimmy, under Rowan’s direction, managed to fashion a makeshift shelter from the tarpaulin, strung across the branches of trees. It wasn’t perfect, but as good as they could hope for. Dinner was a frugal affair; everything was sodden and it proved impossible to find dry firewood, so there was no cooking. They resorted to nibbling on soggy rice crackers, which left everyone feeling grouchy and unsatisfied.

  Finally huddled in their sleeping bags, they were woken by a piercing scream from Sky. She recounted another vivid dream, accompanied by secret, shared smug glances between Xavier and Rowan, which involved all of them being swallowed by some unseen, cavernous mouth. The rest of the night was spent in fitful sleep for all of them, not because of the dream, but because the volume of Sky’s scream was enough to alert anyone within twenty miles of their presence.

  By the second morning everyone was exhausted, ravenous and aching. Against Xavier’s better judgement, they didn’t move on that day but dedicated their energies to collecting a small supply of firewood. They attempted to dry this out by staying in their shelter and stuffing the wood next to their bodies, so that the heat would remove at least some of the moisture. They took turns to sleep and watch, but their fears of discovery proved to be unfounded. Jimmy’s copse was well out of the way of the main road and they stayed out of sight. Spirits were improved that evening by success in getting a small fire going. Jimmy dished up a portion of rice and a sausage each. They all went to bed dried out a little and more content. Elijah was scolded by Rosa, who told him to take off his boots for some air before he got trench-foot; advice which he ignored. Smiling inwardly, he interpreted her concern as a good sign just the same.

  On the third morning, Rowan was the first awake. He nudged Elijah, who grumbled sleepily and pushed himself up out of his sleeping bag. ‘What?’

  ‘Listen, can you hear anything?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Rowan beamed. ‘It’s not raining!’

  The sky was still full of low clouds and a brisk breeze rattled through the trees, but it was perfect weather for trekking. Their tarpaulin roof was left to flap in the wind to dry out while they had a quick breakfast and packed.

  ‘Hey, Elijah!’ called Xavier as they were finishing. ‘Bring your bag over; I’ll carry some of that stuff today.’

  Sky gave Elijah a look that said: I told you it would be ok.

  After a couple of hours walking they stopped for a short break behind the embankment of a potholed and broken road, overlooking miles of level, scrubby fields. No one really had any idea where they were going.

  ‘I just hope we don’t end up going round in circles,’ Rosa said.

  Jimmy scanned the horizon. Only when he had been silent for a few moments did Elijah notice he was gazing at something intently.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ he asked, ‘You haven’t made a sound for a whole minute.’

  Jimmy flashed him a grin. ‘What do you reckon that is?’ Shading his eyes, he pointed to a black, cylindrical shape standing proud against the horizon. Elijah and the others followed his finger.

  ‘Could be a windmill?’ Rowan suggested.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Jimmy agreed. ‘Maybe it’s empty?’

  ‘We could check it out; see what state it’s in,’ Elijah chipped in.

  ‘Must be Palmer’s Mill,’ Rosa added. ‘That’s the only windmill I know of. Now I sort of know where we are. It’s pretty deserted around here, if I remember right.’

  ‘It looks quite a distance.’ Xavier squinted at the distant shape. ‘But I suppose we haven’t got anything to lose.’

  The others agreed. It was as near to a plan as they were going to get.

  It was late in the afternoon by the time they were close enough to see that the shape was, indeed, the skeletal stump o
f an abandoned windmill. The sails had rotted and been torn away, as had sections of the roof. Battling their way through waist-length jungles of wild grass, they drew nearer. A rotting door swung from one hinge and threatened to swing right off as they opened it, releasing an assault of mouldy air into their nostrils. Inside was the odd fragment of the original workings, but it seemed that most of this had been removed and it had been converted into a home at some point. Decayed furniture and household goods littered the ground floor and the inside walls showed flaking remnants of whitewash.

  Inside the main entrance an aged iron staircase snaked up to the floors above, which Xavier immediately checked out. When the first floor was at eye-level, he could see disused furniture and the crumbling remains of what would have been polished floorboards at one time. Now, they looked too precarious to walk on. The rank smell of dry rot permeated the air; it was immediately apparent that the upper floors were unsafe. But the solidity of the stone walls and foundations were a lasting epitaph to the mill’s long perished builders.

  Rowan whistled quietly, gazing around in awe. ‘This place must be ancient – hundreds of years old.’

  Xavier agreed as he came back down the stairs. ‘Well done, Jimbo! I think this will do nicely!’ Jimmy beamed proudly. ‘We’ll have to shift most of this, though,’ added Xavier, nudging aside a rolled up rug with his foot, ‘most of it’s rubbish, completely unusable. And upstairs is a no-go.’

  ‘I wonder what happened to the people who lived here,’ Sky mused quietly. She seemed, briefly, to turn pale and shuddered slightly.

  Nobody else wanted to dwell on that long enough to offer an opinion.

  The group was exhausted, so the task of clearing up was abandoned for the day and they concentrated on getting comfortable for the night. As the light failed, Elijah had the bright idea of burning some furniture. After a few frustrating attempts, they managed to set fire to a rickety chair, but acrid smoke soon filled the room, choking them and stinging their eyes. They had to retreat outside into the soothing cool of the evening breeze until it had burned down.

  ‘I’ll try to remember about varnish,’ Elijah offered, apologetically.

  He looked so pathetically sorry about it that soon they were all roaring with laughter, and it was so infectious that Elijah had no choice but to join in. It had been many weeks since he had laughed. In the midst of the good humour, a pang of guilt attacked him and the joy that had warmed his spirits seeped away just as quickly as it had come. As the others returned indoors, still chatting and laughing, he slipped away to sit alone with his thoughts. He gazed out at the horizon, watching the pink and orange tinged clouds as the wind chased them across his view.

  Sky sat down quietly beside him on a flattened tussock of grass. ‘You are allowed to have a life.’

  ‘I know.’ Elijah ripped at a handful of grass and began to pick it to pieces.

  ‘Your dad wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about living.’

  ‘He would,’ Elijah replied bitterly, ‘You didn’t know him.’

  ‘That’s because you never tell us anything about him.’

  ‘I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.’ Elijah made to stand up. Sky halted him with a gentle hand on his arm.

  ‘Don’t go in yet.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be in this mess if I knew where my mum was.’ He blurted it out. He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to. But it was out there now and there was no way to stop the tidal wave. ‘I never knew her. I don’t even know whether she is alive or dead. I wonder all the time what was so awful about me that she had to leave. The only time Dad ever mentioned her was to tell me not to ask about her ever again. I was six. So I never did.’ The words tumbled out as if a stopper had been removed from a bottle.

  ‘He didn’t tell you anything?’

  ‘He mentioned her name – but I think that was by accident. He went round pretending she didn’t exist until he got so drunk he couldn’t remember anyway.’

  ‘Relationships are complicated. Things don’t always make sense looking from the outside.’

  Elijah smiled in spite of himself. She sounded like one of the many behavioural therapists he had been sent to over the years, back when he was a child with a home and rights. ‘Really? Been in many relationships?’

  ‘No,’ Sky said sadly, ‘but I watched my parents destroy theirs.’

  ‘God, sorry… I never…’

  ‘It’s ok. I’m over it.’

  ‘I never knew.’

  ‘Why would you? I never told you.’

  ‘Want to tell me now?’

  ‘Not especially. Anyway…. your dad, he can’t have been all bad.’

  ‘Sometimes he was really cool. Quite a lot of the time he was drunk. It took me a long time to realise there was a difference. When I was a little kid I thought he was really funny, then I realised that the times when he was serious were the best ones.’ Elijah shuffled slightly on his grassy perch. ‘Go on. I’ve told you now. I want to know about your family.’

  Sky exhaled. ‘Dad left and Mum couldn’t cope. She took a bottle of pills. I ran before the CMO could get to me.’

  ‘That’s kind of the same as I did.’ Elijah threw down the pile of shredded grass and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I started running as soon as I found Dad. Didn’t even go to the incineration yard with him. I bet you at least did that for your mum. Does that make me a bad person?’

  She shrugged. ‘You do what you have to do.’

  ‘What about the others?’

  ‘Let’s see… Rosa. Her dad left before she was born, mum in prison for stealing from the shop she worked in, though Rosa says she only did it because they were so broke. Then she lived with her Grandma for a bit. When she died there was no one else in the family that Rosa could stand to live with. Then there’s Jimmy. Dad went east to fight - missing, presumed dead. That left his mum with Jimmy and two little brothers. Jimmy took off to make life easier for her. Xavier never mentions his folks, so we have no idea…’

  ‘Haven’t you asked him?’

  Sky frowned. ‘Would you?’

  Elijah smiled.

  ‘Anyway,’ continued Sky, ‘that leaves Rowan. His story is the saddest. At least we all knew something about our family. Rowan was on a baby farm. He was being transferred somewhere because, y’know, he got too old to stay there and he didn’t like the sound of where he was going, so he ran.’

  ‘I don’t know any of them.’ Elijah stared into the distance.

  They lapsed into silence. After a few minutes, Sky spoke.

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Whose?’

  ‘Your mum.’

  ‘Cordelia.’

  ‘Cordelia,’ repeated Sky. ‘That’s lovely.’

  The dry spell continued into the next day and spirits were high. Food supplies were running out, though, so Jimmy and Rowan disappeared for a good part of the day to fish. They’d never attempted fishing before and, armed with no more than some old cupboard hooks and dodgy string, this venture in itself was a cause for hilarity. Rosa had said, more than once in their absence, that she expected them to return with two mutant sticklebacks and a genetically modified boot. The others attacked the debris inside the old mill with gusto and, by lunchtime, there was an impressive pile of junk teetering around the back door. They had managed to salvage some useful bits; Xavier was delighted to find some reasonably well preserved books and kitchen equipment, a fact which caused Elijah to raise his eyebrows in suprise.

  Incredibly, late in the afternoon, Jimmy and Rowan arrived back, exhausted but beaming, and bearing two very real, decent sized fish. Everyone crowded round to inspect them, until the realisation that no one knew what type of fish they were, or had the slightest idea how to prepare them for cooking, dampened their enthusiasm.

  ‘What if they’re poisonous?’ Rosa nudged a wet fish with her fingernail.

  ‘We live in England. I doubt they will be,’ Xavier commented sagely. ‘Hang on,’ he added, ‘I think on
e of those books we found earlier was a cookery book. Perhaps there will be something in there.’ He dashed over to the shelf where the books were stacked and returned, blowing dust off one of them, the faded cover of which showed a cornucopia of mouth-watering vegetables and meat.

  ‘Do you think our dinner will look like that?’ Jimmy pointed at the book cover.

  ‘Here.’ Xavier ignored him. ‘Oh… ’ he read the yellowed page intently. ‘Does anyone know how to gut a fish?’ There was an uncomfortable silence. ‘Does anyone want to have a go?’ There were no volunteers. ‘Right then,’ he concluded grimly, ‘looks like it’s me.’ He slapped a fish onto the table, then slammed an aged and blunt cleaver down on its neck, taking three very bloody attempts to finally sever it. The others winced with each blow. It was like watching a gruesome but fascinating operation that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from.

  Xavier cooked the fish himself and proudly served it up with some of their fast dwindling supply of rice. The others didn’t share his enthusiasm; Elijah stared down at the collection of white mush and bones gracing his plate. Gnawing hunger persuaded him to try a piece. It tasted as bad as it looked, but he wolfed it quickly, frequently extracting pin-like bones from the roof of his mouth. Everyone else seemed to be having the same difficulty, which was comforting, or he would have been tempted to think Xavier had done it to him on purpose.

  ‘That was disgusting,’ Xavier concluded miserably as he pushed his plate away.

  ‘It wasn’t that bad. It was quite nice really...’ Sky gave a half hearted smile.

  ‘Shut up, Sky. It was rancid.’ Rosa scowled. ‘What’s for pudding, Elijah’s athlete’s foot scrapings?’