The person with the megaphone let the crowd go on for another minute, whipping itself into a state of frenzy, before he raised his arm again and silenced them.
“We are going to go over this town with a fine tooth comb,” he shouted into the megaphone. “We are going to look under every rock, inspect every nook and cranny until we find these vile creatures. And when we do find them, we are going to exact some justice. Justice for Mrs Wilkinson, justice for everyone in this town who have had their faith defiled by these evil pigs. We are going to kill them. Then we are going to crucify them and let them hang on their evil crosses until they rot!”
He paused for a few seconds, then he screamed from the top of his lungs.
“What are we going to do?”
“Kill them. Kill them. Kill them,” the crowd shouted back enthusiastically, the two words turning into a rhythmic chant.
The words reverberated inside her head, and she knew what she should be doing right now was to run around to the other side of the house, then continue to run until she reached the other side of town and slip into the forest. Then she would run until her legs wouldn’t carry her any more. But she didn’t. She stayed put. She found it impossible to pull her head away from the tiny opening in the hedge and do what her brain commanded her to do. It was as if she was being held in place by invisible ropes that she had no way of extricating herself from.
It wasn’t until David began pulling her away that she was able to break the invisible bond and run back toward the house.
“Holy crap! We’re toast,” David said through clenched teeth as they threw themselves behind the back wall of the house.
“They’re all frickin nuts,” he hissed. He was looking around, desperately trying to figure out what to do next.
“Did you see how many of them there were?” Mary asked. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, her chest shooting up and down like a piston.
“Did I ever. And they’re all armed to the teeth. Christ, it won’t take them long at all to find us, and when they do, that’s the end of us.”
“What are we going to do David?” The tears were running down Mary’s cheek, and she imagined she looked like a woman who had just hit the end of her rope.
“We can think about that later, all we need to focus on now is getting the hell out of here.”
David ran over to the fence of the neighbouring property and cleared it with ease without slowing down, and this time Mary didn’t need any time to think about whether to follow him or not. She pushed herself away from the wall and ran after him, and she didn’t stop until they once again saw the pickup truck and the five hooded men.
They had run for almost two minutes, and managed to clear two entire blocks. In the distance they could see the western most point of town and the beginning of the forest that stretched before them for god knows how long.
They stopped dead in their tracks, mouths dropped open, before a fraction of a second later they were able to react and throw themselves behind the corner they had just appeared from. The hooded men were less than fifty yards away, but fortunately looking in the other direction.
Mary and David made no attempts to spy on them, but instead hurried over to the house next door, bolted up the driveway and came to a stop behind the end wall.
“That was close,” David said in a trembling voice. “If we’d gone around that corner a little faster, or they had been facing the other way, we’d probably be dead by now.”
He stuck his head around the corner and quickly pulled it back again.
“Shit they are coming our way!” he said in a low voice, his face ashen.
“Quick!”
They ran around to the back of the house, desperate to find somewhere to hide. But they were out of luck. The garden was an open area, devoid of trees or any structures they could hide behind, and it was surrounded by a tall corrugated metal fence that Mary reckoned even David would have difficulties climbing over. She felt the terror return. It was too late to turn around and run back. They were trapped, and the men with the hoods would have no trouble finding them if they decided to take a closer look at the house. She looked around frantically for a way out, but couldn’t find one.
She felt her heart start to race along, and she turned around in a last desperate attempt to try to figure a way out of their predicament, and that's when it came to her. The back entrance! How could she have missed something that obvious? They could hide inside the house.
She raced over to it and pushed down the handle of the fly screen door, and felt the sweet surge of adrenaline flush her system when she pulled it toward her. Thank god the owner hadn’t bothered to lock it. She said a quick prayer and hoped with all her heart that the more sturdy hardwood veneer door behind it was unlocked too. For a fraction of a second she could see herself pulling at it and nothing happening.
But her worries were short lived, because a second later when she twisted the knob the door swung open. She looked over at David and couldn’t help but let out an almost hysterical giggle. Then they both hurried inside, David carefully closing the doors behind them. Once that was taken care of, they stood still for a few moments, half expecting the owner to come rushing toward them, demanding to know what they were doing there. But no one came. And when no one was calling out to them, or no footfalls from further inside the house could be heard, they began moving away from the door.
It was dark in there, which had just as much to do with the brown, seventies style wallpaper and the dark red carpet that covered the floor, as it had to do with the overcast weather and lace curtains.
They tiptoed over to the front of the house. The place had a faint smell of mothballs, and judging by the decor and furniture, she assumed the place belonged to an older couple. There were several family portraits hanging on the dark walls, and scattered on top of a low table were the kind of magazines that old people seemed to favour.
She headed over to a doorway giving onto a corridor and stood there, while David hurried over to the big window facing the street and took up position next to the curtains and gazed outside.
They saw him at the same time, a hooded figure walking up to the window and pressing his face against the glass. Mary had just enough time to take a step backwards and disappear out of his field of vision. She felt her heart skip a beat, and realised that this must be what hunted animals feel like whenever they see the hunter close in with his weapon raised. She closed her eyes, and wished she was back home in Seattle doing some mundane chores around the apartment.
She didn’t think that the guy had seen her, she had stepped back at least a second before the hooded figure had managed to press his face up against the window. She knew it was almost impossible to see through lace curtains at a distance. But still she wasn’t able to relax. What if he had seen David? David had nowhere to hide, except for a tiny little area next to the window. Her mind was working a million miles an hour and she debated whether to stick her head through the doorway and see if the guy was still there. But she just couldn’t seem to work up the necessary courage to do so. What if he was? If he was still peering through the window, he would notice her.
But at the same time, she knew she had to do it. If he had moved away from the window, she would have to let David know. She slowly counted to ten, then she inched her head forward ever so carefully and peeked out. The hooded person was no longer there.
She felt a tremendous amount of relief, and signalled David with her hand that the coast was clear. He immediately ran over to the door opening and made his way past Mary into the corridor, the soft carpet muffling his footsteps. He stopped a few feet behind her, leaning up against the wall with his head tilted backwards. He was breathing heavily and his face was strained into a grimace. When he turned to look at her, it seemed as if he was about to say something. But at that exact moment, they heard the fly screen door being opened up and for the briefest of moment, they both froze. But then instinct kicked in and they both raced toward the door a
t the opposite end of the corridor. It was the room farthest away, and thus it seemed like their safest option.
David entered the room first, Mary following hot on his heels. And to her credit, she had the foresight to close the door behind her. She could hear the entrance door being shut with a muted thud and realised with a rising sense of dread that the hooded person was now inside the house.
She turned away from the door and saw that they were in the master bedroom. The Venetian blinds in the window above the double bed were closed, making it even darker in there than it had been in the living room. But she didn’t have time to look around and take it all in, nor was she able to think coherently about what to do next. So when David grabbed her and pretty much threw her down on the floor and started pushing her in under the bed, she didn’t pause or wonder whether there might be some better place to hide. She just let it happen.
There wasn’t that much room under there, her nose was only a few inches below the wooden slats supporting the mattress, but she managed to wiggle in all the way to the middle and lie still. Then David followed suit, and less than ten seconds after they had burst into the room, they were lying motionless under the mattress, almost too scared to breathe.
Terrifying thoughts were bombarding her brain, and she had a strong sense that this would be the end of the road for them. That this would be the place where they left this world behind. She was convinced that the hooded man had somehow spotted them when he looked in through the glass. Why else had he decided to enter the house?
She cast a quick sideways glance over at David and saw he was lying with his clenched fists resting on top of his chest, as if he was ready to punch the guy in the face should he decide to look under the bed. His eyes were closed, and he was inhaling and exhaling slowly. Sweat was running down the side of his face, and Mary could see quite clearly that his lower lip was quivering. God, please don’t let this person enter the room, she thought. Please, let him turn around and walk out through that door again and never return.
She lay completely still and strained her ears to the maximum, but was unable to detect any sounds coming from other parts of the house. The fact that she couldn’t hear him made it worse. If she had been able to hear him moving around, then she could at least have prepared herself mentally for what was about to happen. Now there would be no warning, only the door opening up and him being in there with them.
Then she began worrying about being spotted. Would he be able to see their feet under the bed as he walked in the room? She quickly pulled her feet as far back as she could, and felt a slight pain in her tummy as she did so. Would all this physical activity and stress hurt her baby? She felt she was losing control of herself, and took a deep breath and exhaled as slowly as she could. She had to stay strong and focused, and trust that God knew what he was doing.
Then the door opened up and she stopped breathing. She held on to the lungful of air she had just inhaled, and tried to focus on being as quiet as possible. Her head was turned slightly sideways, and she could see the bottom section of the robe and the black shoes moving toward the bed.
Oh my god, he knows we’re here, she thought. Her mouth started trembling uncontrollably, and she felt a strong urge to exhale, but she was unable to do so. The terror she was experiencing seemed to have completely paralysed her.
The feet came to a stop when they were less than a foot away from the bed. Then she heard a soft thud as the end of the shaft of the scythe hit the floor.
Mary closed her eyes and began preparing herself mentally for what was about to happen. She was convinced that the person would kneel down and look under the bed. And when he found them, he would start using that scythe on them, stabbing them with its razor sharp tip. But nothing happened. The hooded individual didn’t lean down, nor did he check under the bed. He just stood there in front of them doing absolutely nothing. A sliver of hope forced its way into Mary’s consciousness, God must have decided to let them live for a little while longer. He didn’t intend for them to enter his kingdom just yet. It was the only explanation she could think of, and it filled her with some much needed optimism.
By this stage her lungs were hurting. She had held her breath for close to a minute, and she couldn’t hold it any longer. She opened her mouth and let out the spent, oxygen depraved air that had been trapped inside her lungs as quietly as she could.
Then the feet started moving again, and she could see the person walk back to the door and disappear out into the corridor again. At that point Mary was unable to hold back her tears. They came streaming down the side of her face and ended up on the carpet just under her neck. They had stared death in the face yet again and come out of it unscathed on the other side. But for how much longer would they be able to keep it up?
The gun was in one of the drawers of the bedside table and it was David who found it. They had spent another ten minutes under the bed before they had worked up the sufficient courage to crawl back out again. They had heard the entrance door open and close five minutes earlier and assumed that the hooded person had left.
David had stood up carefully, and lifted one of the grey plastic strips of the venetian blinds to peek outside and see if the person had decided to hang around. But no one was there, so he had let go of the blind and stepped away from the window. Then he had begun checking the content of the drawers of the two bedside tables on either side of the bed, and there in the bottom drawer of the table on the left, he had found the gun. It had been hidden under a couple of wilderness magazines, a Glock 9mm with a full clip. Next to it had been a tiny paper box containing an additional thirty rounds. And despite being a lifelong pacifist, he had felt an enormous relief when he laid eyes on the weapon.
He had picked it up and weighed it in his hand, and after a brief cursory examination of it, placed it on top of the bedside table. He had then handed Mary the kitchen knife, which he had been carrying around in the pocket of his jacket. She had winced when he offered it to her, but had reluctantly accepted it.
Before he closed the drawer, he grabbed the box with the extra ammunition and put it in his pocket. Then he grabbed the gun and held it tightly in his right hand. They stared at each other for a few seconds before walking over to the door, both realising that the weapon would be a game changer.
Shortly thereafter they exited the house and headed over to the garage to see if there was a car there. There wasn’t. It was just as empty as the other two garages they had inspected. Slightly disappointed, they walked down the driveway and began moving back toward the corner where they had seen the hooded men.
They saw the pickup truck pulled up against the kerb about a third of the way down the next street. The hooded men however, where nowhere to be seen.
“They must be checking the houses,” Mary said.
They were standing at the corner behind a tree about a hundred yards away.
David nodded. His face was expressionless. He had both hands wrapped around the handle of the gun, which was pointed toward the ground.
From behind them they could hear the faint, but growing noise of the crowd they had seen on Main Street. Mary knew it was only a matter of time before they’d catch their first glimpse of them.
“We have to get that pickup truck,” David said. “It’s our only chance. If we can sneak up to it undetected, we can force the driver out and try to make our way out of town. If we go full throttle, we should have a decent shot of making it back to the highway. And with a loaded gun, they’ll think twice about stopping us.” David turned and looked behind him.
“I think overpowering one individual, five if the others decide to show up, is preferable to trying to defeat a frenzied mob hell-bent on killing us.”
Mary didn’t particularly like any of the scenarios, but she knew David was right. They had to do something quick, and trying to get the pickup truck made sense. If they managed to pull it off, they could be on their way within the next five minutes.
“How are we going to get over there un
detected? All he has to do is look in the rear view mirror and our plan goes down the drain.”
“We walk through the backyards of the houses on this side of the road. Then when we’re alongside it, we simply rush out and aim the gun at the driver and take possession of it.”
“But David, what if the other ones see us? They’ll come charging out of those houses and try to kill us.”
David nodded toward the gun.
“That may be the case,” he said. “But as far as I’m aware, they don’t have any of these. A scythe is no match for a gun. Besides, it’s not like we have a choice. If we don’t do it, the crowd will catch up with us and we’ll die without even having tried to get away.”
Mary looked at him carefully.
“Have you ever fired a gun before?” she asked.
“No, but how hard can it be? You just aim it and pull the trigger. That’s all there is to it. Besides, just brandishing it should be more than enough. I don’t think I’ll have to use it.”
Mary sighed.
“I don’t doubt that you’re right David. It’s just that I’m at the end of my tether. I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted before. I just want this thing to be over.”
“I know Sweetie, and this could very well be our ticket out of here.”
He removed one of his hands from the gun and placed it on her shoulder.
“We have to stay positive.”
Mary nodded.
“I know,” she said and tried to smile, but without much success.
David noticed the gesture and gave her a quick hug.
“Ok, let’s get this over and done with,” he said.
They retraced their steps until they could no longer see the pickup truck. Then they stepped over the low picket fence and began making their way toward their target by traversing the backyards of the properties bordering the street.
The Bad Country Page 9
