RUNNERS

by Sharon Sant

  Buoyed by their success in fishing, Rowan and Jimmy cooked up another plan to provide food.

  ‘Do you think there are many rabbits round here?’ Jimmy asked no one in particular the next morning over breakfast. As nobody had died overnight from food poisoning, confidence in their new found survival skills was blossoming. Rosa raised her eyebrows imperiously and Xavier nearly choked on his drink.

  ‘How are you proposing to catch a rabbit?’ Rosa asked.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ve got a plan.’ Jimmy winked.

  ‘You do know they don’t come out till the evening, don’t you?’ she enquired in an irked tone, as if she was trying to explain a very complicated scientific formula to a pre-schooler. ‘And you do realise that one of us is going to have to kill it? And all that other… stuff…’ she concluded, shuddering at the memory of Xavier and his fish mutilation.

  ‘Of course,’ Jimmy said brightly, running a hand through his fringe. ‘We know what we’re doing.’

  Twilight stretched across the bald land when Rowan and Jimmy set off for a lonely clump of trees in the distance. Rowan had remembered seeing little hollows, which he thought might be rabbit burrows, on their way to the river to fish. The plan was to get onto a strong, low branch of one of the trees, armed with a heavy steel bucket and a thin sheet of wood, wait for an unsuspecting bunny to nibble underneath their tree, and drop the bucket over it from above. Thus, the rabbit would be trapped; they could slide the sheet underneath, like catching a spider with a glass and a sheet of paper. The plan would have worked like a dream, they were sure, except for the fact that it didn’t. Rowan got onto a branch, dropped the bucket, and then quickly followed it. The bucket hit the ground at a far greater velocity than either of them could have thought possible, then bounced up and rolled away down a shallow incline. Rowan fell at a similar rate, with a similarly surprising velocity, jerking the breath from his lungs and badly bruising the base of his spine. Any bunny within a mile radius was not coming back. The two boys returned to the mill, defeated, and the butt of the evening’s jokes, despite the hunger. All night there were cries of:

  ‘Oi, you two stop rabbiting on.’

  ‘Jimmy, Rowan, give us a hand – hop to it.’

  The jibes only stopped when Rowan threatened to shove a dirty sock in Rosa’s face, a threat to which she responded by throwing a pan at his head. It missed, but only just.

  Much later, the group gathered round the last gasp of the fire to plan the next day. The evening pow-wow was becoming a welcome part of the routine, something that seemed to draw them closer, making them stronger as a group every night. Everyone was thankful for a roof over their head as the rain hammered down, despite the drafts and leaks. Sky, who had been growing steadily paler over the course of the evening, started to complain of a headache. Rosa invited Sky to settle her head on her lap, and she drifted into sleep. Rosa’s usually proud features, reflected in the glow of the fire, showed softness that was rarely seen as she stroked Sky’s hair. The conversation became intermittent, lazy whispers as everyone grew tired and thoughts turned to bed.

  The calm was shattered as Sky shot up, eyes wide and vacant, as if looking at a spot that was not in the room.

  ‘They’re upstairs.’

  ‘Who?’ Rosa tried to put an arm around her but Sky shook it off, still staring ahead.

  ‘The people who owned the mill. They’re upstairs right now!’

  Seven: Games of Life and Death

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Jimmy glanced uneasily at the others.

  ‘I saw them. They told me.’

  ‘How –’

  ‘Just go and look, please…’

  ‘Now?’ Xavier asked.

  ‘Why not?’ cut in Elijah. ‘I’ll go, I reckon I could get round up there without going through the boards.’ He glanced at Sky. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’ll go.’ Xavier made a move towards the stairs.

  ‘I’m lighter than you,’ Elijah insisted.

  Xavier hesitated for a moment. ‘Ok.’

  Elijah made his way to ascend the staircase, watched by the others from across the vast, cylindrical room. As soon as he was a few feet away from the fire he was swallowed by darkness. He started to climb, but quickly realised that there was no point in trying to see anything without a light. He stood motionless, halfway up, and listened hard; there was nothing to hear but the sounds of the collectively held breath of the others downstairs, and the cracking of the fire.

  ‘It’s no good,’ he called down hoarsely, ‘I can’t see a thing up here. Can someone bring a torch?’

  ‘Not a good idea,’ Rosa cut in. ‘The amount of rotten wood up there, a naked flame could have the place up in minutes.’

  Xavier looked at Sky. ‘It’ll have to wait till morning.’

  As the first light of a grey dawn crept in through the grimy windows, Elijah sprang from his sleeping bag and dressed quickly, eager to conclude the previous night’s investigation. His activity quickly roused the others, who had all slept badly. Jimmy, attempting to keep his mind on other things, sparked up a fire to boil some rainwater, while Sky and Rosa kept close to him; yawning and watching the fire lick the base of a tarnished iron pot. Rowan and Xavier stood sentry at the bottom of the staircase, watching tensely as Elijah went up to resume his search.

  Elijah touched the last step and scanned the room. He sucked in his breath as he took in the scene. Somehow, he had not expected it to look so… occupied. It was a room full of ghosts, arranged in readiness for days that would never happen. Hairbrushes, a bottle of musky perfume, a jar of face cream with faded label standing on a dressing table, moth-eaten curtains hanging limply at the windows, two pairs of slippers neatly arranged by the bed - all thick in dust. Then, his heart seemed to stop mid-beat as his gaze settled on what he had most been dreading, yet seemed certain to find.

  They grinned at him, hollow, eyeless grins, bones under a decaying quilt. Sky was right; they had been there all along. Elijah caught his breath.

  ‘What? What’s up there?’ Xavier called.

  Elijah’s tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. He froze; time stood still. His breath held; the dust motes that swirled on the morning light suspended, as the room was in death. Then, he moved onto the creaking floor, drawn by some lethal compulsion. They beckoned him closer, they had secrets to tell.

  Below, Xavier could hear Elijah’s footsteps as he tried out the boards. ‘Don’t go onto the floor – it’s not safe.’

  Elijah could not stop. They welcomed him, ghastly grins in angular white skulls, cavernous eyes drawing him closer. The floor cracked under his feet but held, and he cautiously picked his way over to the bed until he was close enough to touch. On a small bedside cabinet lay a yellowed scrap of paper. Elijah knew he needed to read it, like Sky said – they’re telling me. He blew off dust and dry, black mould. On it, in a trembling hand, was written one heartbreaking sentence:

  This world is too much for us.

  Elijah returned to the top of the stairs and called down in a toneless voice. ‘The floor isn’t too bad. Come up, you should see this.’

  Xavier sprinted up, followed quickly by Rowan. Xavier’s eyes followed Elijah’s gaze and widened as they fell upon the gruesome couple. He put out a hand to try to stop Rowan from getting to the top stair, but Rowan pushed it aside.

  ‘I want to see.’

  All three of them stood and stared.

  Rowan broke the silence in a hushed tone. ‘They must have been here for years.’

  Xavier tentatively made his way closer on the groaning floor, never moving his eyes from the bed. ‘I don’t think the girls should see this.’

  Xavier’s expression was one of grim determination as he returned to the fire, but his face was grey and he refused breakfast. Sky stared into space with Rosa’s arm around her.

  No one spoke for a long time, until Jimmy’s faltering voice made Sky jump. ‘What are we going to do with them?’r />
  Xavier shrugged. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Are we staying?’

  Xavier didn’t answer but glanced around at the others.

  Rosa inclined her head. ‘It’s not the dead we need to be afraid of.’

  Elijah hadn’t been listening. He hugged his knees and stared at the fire. He couldn’t close his eyes. The image of what he had seen was imprinted onto the inside of his eyelids and, if he did, their faces would stare back at him from the blackness. He saw the rules of life clearly for the first time and they were simple: it was a game where Death was the only winner.

  Eight: Rebellion

  The daily routine in the weeks afterwards was just as it had been, apart from the new heaviness that hung in the air. The bodies remained untouched, as did the furniture on the first floor. The previously shared laughter had faded now into a kind of insistent melancholy that wouldn’t be shaken, and when the group spoke, it was in whispers.

  The words on the suicide note burned into Elijah’s consciousness. This world is too much for us. Asleep or awake, it was all he could think of. There was no running this time.

  Xavier watched as Elijah retreated, once again, into his sleeping bag, having given no response to Xavier’s demands to know where he had got the apples he had dropped onto the table.

  ‘He’s been missing all day again,’ Sky commented in a low voice. ‘He’ll catch his death being out in this rain all the time.’

  ‘That’s not what worries me,’ Xavier said thoughtfully. ‘I’ve seen this happen before. It’s not good.’

  Jimmy sauntered over to join in the conversation. ‘I’ve offered to go out with him, but he doesn’t want to know. In fact, last time I asked I thought he was going to hit me.’

  ‘Can’t you get him to tell you where he’s going?’ Xavier asked Sky.

  ‘I tried, the last time he brought strawberries in. It was obvious that he couldn’t have come by them any other place than someone’s greenhouse.’ Sky chewed on her lip. ‘He wouldn’t tell me anything.’

  ‘He doesn’t eat any of it either,’ Jimmy said.

  Xavier shrugged. ‘There’s no point in trying to talk to him now,’ he said, noting that Elijah had climbed so far into his sleeping bag that only the top of his head was visible. Sky shivered slightly. ‘Go get warmed,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll try again tomorrow.

  They made their way over to the fire to join Rosa and Rowan. Rosa’s gaze wandered over to the apples on the table.

  ‘They’re here now, however he got them. It’s pointless wasting food; we might as well eat them.’

  Only Sky stubbornly refused.

  More and more food arrived, though Elijah never ate any. It became clear to everyone that it wasn’t the food, but the act of stealing it that held a strange compulsion for him. Each time he did it, the danger became greater, but he couldn’t stop and was deaf to the repeated warnings and pleadings of the others. It seemed that his soul was being eaten away by directionless and festering anger.

  On the night he returned empty handed, hollow eyed, and covered in scratches, Xavier knew something had to be done.

  ‘You got caught, didn’t you?’

  ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Elijah turned for his bed and Xavier caught him roughly by the arm, spinning him round.

  ‘Get off me!’ Elijah spat.

  ‘Not until you sit down and listen –’

  ‘NO!’

  Elijah tried to push Xavier away, but Xavier only held his arm tighter. Elijah pulled his free arm back and slammed a fist into the side of Xavier’s head; the surprise caught Xavier off balance and sent him crashing over the table. Weeks of simmering resentment suddenly exploded in an almighty clash of tempers. The pair sprang at each other, grappling in the dirt. Even though Elijah was now painfully malnourished and puny in comparison to the muscular, mature-framed Xavier, he seemed to find unnatural strength from his rage. He matched every one of Xavier’s blows, pound for pound, and more besides. Elijah, peevish in his anger and frustration, made the fight dirty; he poked at eyes and pulled hair and Xavier found himself battling to avoid serious injury rather than trying to harm Elijah. Jimmy and Rowan stumbled in amongst the fighting. It took both of them to finally drag Elijah away, leaving Xavier panting, hair wild, wiping blood from his mouth. Elijah pulled against the two boys, but they kept hold while Sky tried to calm him and Rosa screamed incoherent insults. When Elijah became still and Jimmy and Rowan finally let go, he threw them a murderous look before stalking out into the night.

  ‘That’s it,’ Xavier hissed. ‘He has got to go.’

  Dawn was breaking as Sky sat, half hidden amongst the tall grasses, waiting for Elijah to return. The day’s first light was smothered by layer upon layer of fat, dark cloud, colouring the landscape in a churning palette of greys. She was engrossed in something on her lap, her fingers working nimbly, but she kept a close watch on the fields. When she saw the tiny figure approach, she finished her work quickly and rose to meet him. Elijah was thin and pale; it seemed that at any moment he might fade completely. His eyes glittered manically from lack of sleep. He scowled, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she held up a wreath, fashioned from coarse wild grass and tatty flowers.

  ‘I made this.’ He stared at her. ‘For you to take to the people upstairs,’ she explained, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

  Sky took Elijah’s hand firmly and he allowed her to lead him inside. The others were sleeping. Xavier’s left eye had swollen and Rosa had fallen asleep with an arm across him. Elijah felt a sudden pang of regret. Sky led him past the sleeping company and up the stairs. He followed docilely. At the top step she handed him the wreath. It was the first time she had seen the skeletons, but if she was afraid she didn’t show it. She looked over at them, almost fondly, like old friends.

  ‘Go on,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll wait downstairs… unless you want me to stay?’

  Elijah shook his head and, with a faltering step, walked slowly towards the bed. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but he did it anyway. Because it was important to Sky? Maybe that was it.

  They looked just the same, their eerie grins fixed. He stepped forward and placed the wreath onto the mouldering bedclothes. Picking up the note, he read it again, and then let it fall from his fingers. A hot tear settled into a cut, causing him to wince slightly. There was more to come, and he wouldn’t be able to stop them. All the grief of his short life was concentrated into this one brutal outpouring. He did nothing to fight them back this time; he let his sadness consume him, the heat of emotion thawing out his frozen heart.

  Sky waited for him downstairs. She didn’t speak. His eyes were red and swollen and there were tracks in the dirt on his face. He sank down beside her, exhausted, and laid his head on her lap. She stroked his black curls gently from his forehead until he slept. For once, there were no dreams.

  Elijah slept until after noon, when the aroma of baking fish seeped into his nostrils and he woke, realising that he was starving. His eyes were puffy and gummed with sleep. As he rubbed them into focus, he could see Sky, Rosa and Xavier deep in conversation a few feet away. Rosa, seeing him wake, inclined her head in his direction and the discussion ended abruptly.

  ‘You’re an idiot.’ Xavier folded his arms. Elijah returned a weak nod as he pushed himself up to sit. Xavier strode away without further comment.

  ‘He wants to throw me out,’ Elijah stated in a husky voice, turning his suddenly wide-awake gaze on Rosa and Sky.

  Sky forced a smile. ‘I think it will be all right,’ she said uncertainly.

  Jimmy, wearing his usual broad grin, called over from the fire. ‘Had a rough night?’

  Elijah ignored him and beckoned Sky over. She sat crossed legged on the floor alongside him.

  ‘You know, the house I was stealing from was massive,’ he said in a low voice, ‘really posh… it wasn’t like they would miss it. I would never have taken it otherwise. I dunno… it was like I was angry at them for having so much.�
� He needed her approval, her forgiveness more than anyone else’s.

  ‘Don’t talk about it anymore.’

  ‘Yeah, but… does it still bother you, now that you know?’

  ‘Elijah, it bothers me, but let’s not talk about it - ok? By the way,’ she added, ‘Jimmy’s right. You do look terrible.’

  Elijah washed until his skin was pink, and dragged a comb through his thick, wet hair with such gusto that his eyes watered and his scalp tingled. For the first time in weeks he was aware of just how much his strength had ebbed, the effort left him feeling sick and dizzy.

  ‘Well. I suppose that is an improvement,’ offered Rosa as Elijah joined them.

  ‘Too right,’ agreed Jimmy eying Elijah’s bruised face. ‘You know,’ he added with an impish grin,’ if you really wanted to take out Xavier, you should have just made him whiff your armpits.’

  Elijah glanced uneasily across at Xavier, who didn’t look up from his meal. Elijah could see, however, the faintest ghost of a smile play about his lips.

  The months that used to be known as autumn were fast approaching. The people of Britain stubbornly clung on to the concept of seasons, even though one was barely distinct from another. They had seen the last of the summer heat-waves, but the cooling of the season brought more rain; in fact, the rains hadn’t stopped since the one dry stretch when they first arrived at the mill. The air was a constant murky drizzle; black clouds shadowed the ground as they whisked across the sky, and the stumps of the old windmill sails creaked and groaned in the wind. The river that passed near the mill, where they now got most of their food, had begun to swell. The significance of the threat was not lost on Xavier. ‘We’ll have to watch that. We’re a little higher up here, but I’m not sure how long the water would take to reach us if the rains don’t stop soon.’

  The new threat of the rising river cast a shadow over the group, just when they were settling back into some kind of normal routine. Elijah’s health had improved daily; they were becoming skilled at finding food, and every new day without discovery gave them all secret, tentative hopes that the future could be happy. Though, deep down, they all realised they couldn’t survive there forever, the mill had come to represent home, somewhere solid and dependable. They had even got used to their grisly sitting tenants.