All Through the Night

by M. P. Wright

  Moments later I heard Bodden’s front door fly back against the wall as Paxton and his men steamrollered in. Then all hell broke loose inside the place. I could just make out Bodden’s voice as he began to squirm and protest to his unwelcome house guests. The sound of glass splintering and Bodden letting out an ear-piercing scream made me sink as low as I could down in the grass. I listened as one of the Americans began yelling, “Bodden, you damn stupid son of a bitch. What the fucking hell happened in here?”

  “He jumped me, pinned me to the floor. The black bastard threatened to kill me if I didn’t tell him that it was you who was coming for the two of them. He pulled a gun on me, and then they both took off out the back.”

  One of the men ran down the hall and shone a flashlight out into the yard, strafing the air in front of him. I pulled Truth towards me and we sank down low on the ground. Another Yankee, his voice more high pitched, snapped at Bodden, “You asshole. All you had to do was hold ’em till we got here, you shit for brains.”

  Bodden continued to stutter out his excuses. “But, but he went wild. I didn’t stand a chance. He’s dangerous, just like you said, Mr Paxton.”

  The first Yank snapped at Bodden, silencing his whimpering. “How long they been gone?”

  “Not long, about five, six minutes maybe.” Bodden whined on at the American, continuing to dig his own grave. “Look, Mr Paxton . . . I told you where the coon was intending to go with the young ’un. You’ll find him heading for the next village, the White Hart barns. He ain’t gonna get far. That nigger’s too bloody stupid not to get caught.”

  One of the men laughed. “He ain’t as stupid as you, old man.” Suddenly the house lights went out and the place fell into darkness. Moments later I heard the familiar thud from a suppressor-fitted handgun and at the same time saw the briefest of muzzle flashes.

  Although I didn’t see it happen, I knew that Wilf Bodden was dead. It would be chalked up as another murder that I had committed while on the run. Paxton had once again found his very own patsy and another excuse to keep hunting me down to get to Truth. I sank the side of my face to the ground and then began to slowly back up on my belly across the grass. Truth, holding on to my hand, instinctively followed. We slithered away from the fence, inching further out into the open field, distancing ourselves from any further beams of torchlight that Paxton’s men may have shone out across the open moorland. We back-pedalled like that for about twenty feet. I stopped, raised my head a few inches off the grass and caught sight of four men in the distance, walking slowly towards us, silhouetted by the moonlight. None of them had as yet spotted the two of us.

  I quietly pulled the old army holdall through both my arms so that it hung from my back, slipped the safety catch off my revolver then slowly got to my feet. I pulled Truth up off the ground and we started to run.

  All I could think about was putting as much distance between us and Paxton and his men as possible. In the blackness I began zigzagging across the open heath, with no idea of the terrain and unsure where we were running to.

  The bright moonlight above us aided me in navigating the open expanse of the rough, divot-potted field. But just as the night light worked in our favour, it also hindered us.

  With the adrenaline pounding through my body, I swear I thought I heard the heavy thud of Paxton and his men picking up their pace behind us. I slowed down ever so slightly, stuck my revolver into my jacket pocket and pulled Truth towards my right thigh, scooping her up in my arms, then pushed myself on. As soon as I spurted on I realised that carrying Truth while I ran was going to be a real problem. I gasped in mouthfuls of air as I picked up my pace again, still criss-crossing the ground in front of me. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the dark shadowing of a row of bushes to my right. I clutched tightly at Truth’s legs and torso, drawing them up towards my chest, then put my head down and headed for the still, dark profile of the hedgerow. Gasping for breath and almost bent double with the creasing pain from the stitch in my belly, I pelted across the short grass, hoping that I could make the dense shrubs without either of us being seen. Every time my foot hit the turf I was expecting to hear the silenced thud of rifle or pistol fire, to feel a bullet tear into my flesh. I pushed myself to run faster, to cover the ground unseen. I felt blood pulsating madly through my veins with each new step, the sides of my temples pinched with razor-like pain. My lungs burned and clawed to burst out of my chest, then out of nowhere I felt the top of my head hit a heavy wall of leaves and branches, the sheer bulk of it knocking me backwards onto the grass. I lost my grip on Truth and she fell over the top of me, her body falling to the ground directly above my head.

  Without catching my breath, I thrust out both arms and caught hold of one of her flailing arms and clawed the little girl back over my chest. I rolled onto my side, looped my left arm under Truth’s belly and, without knowing where I was going, dragged the two of us underneath the hedgerow. I sank down as low as I could, my head scraping against the sharp tips that hung from the bottom of the hedge. My heels dug into the soft earth, helping me to haul both our bodies backwards while still clasping tight onto the lower half of Truth’s chest. I pushed at the earth with my shoulder, twisting and turning like an earthworm caught in the sun, until I finally scrambled out onto the other side from the base of the heavy thicket.

  I heaved the two of us back onto our feet and continued to run to my left along the length of the hedge. I could feel the ground below me starting to dip; the terrain started to become less easy to traverse and the grass underneath our feet quickly turned to smooth pebbles then bigger rocks. I slowed my pace, held on to Truth’s hand a little tighter and after a few more feet stopped for a moment. I felt a sharp gust of wind blow out of nowhere and hit me square in the face. I carefully reached up and lifted one of the straps of the holdall away from my shoulder then wriggled it away from my back. I dropped the bag at my feet, bent down, then pushed my hand inside it and fished about until finally I felt the handle of my slim Eveready torch.

  I pulled the flashlight out, switched it on and shone the tiny beam down in front of me. I swept the thin stream of light across the ground, its faint glow catching the rough edges of pieces of stone and disrupted mossy earth. I bent forward a little further and was again caught head on by another sudden flurry of cold air. I stretched out my arm a little further and let the remaining shallow ray of light from my torch extend as far as it was able. I scanned the blackness until I realised there was no more ground for my lamp to scour or touch. I let the flashlight arc down, back towards the ground, but its pencil-thick beam was immediately lost, extinguished by the dark abyss that lay at our feet.

  33

  I felt my head spin and my heart sink as I stood at the sheer drop. Nausea crept through my body as I cautiously edged myself away from the craggy rock face. My legs became unsteady with fear, my feet heavy and clumsy. I forced myself to move and, without realising, nervously backed myself straight into Truth, catching her face with the pointed corner of the holdall. She gave a sudden, startled yelp; I turned on my heels, swiftly caught hold of her arm and covered her mouth with the palm of my hand then dropped the two of us down onto the ground. I pulled the little girl in close to me, switched off the dimming flashlight, and drew us back into the damp, shrouded undergrowth. Paxton, Jardine and their men didn’t take long to head our way. I closed my eyes and listened as they began to scour the open terrain only a few feet from where we were hid. Realising I was holding her face way too tightly, I gently lifted my hand a few inches away from Truth’s mouth and felt her warm breath leak through the gaps in my fingers. Her body shook and juddered against my chest. I rested my chin on her head, shuffled us further back into the vegetation and looked up into the darkness. Three piercing torch beams suddenly erupted through the dense hedgerow above us, their ghostly shafts of light cutting viciously through the still night air. The men had clearly adapted quickly to the nocturnal conditions, the result of good military training.

>   They moved stealthily like seasoned pack predators, their footsteps treading lightly across the turf as they stalked us, never uttering a sound as they continued to search across the moor and along the perimeter of the thicket we had crawled through, their silence made all the more eerie by their probing torches, which shone down into the blue blackness around us as they doggedly hunted. I let my right hand slowly drop from Truth’s mouth, reached down and pulled my revolver from my jacket pocket, and raised it up against the side of my face, the back of my arm and hand cushioned by the thick shrubs. I felt the cold metal of the gun lightly graze the side of my cheek. I cocked the hammer full back with my thumb and then rested my perspiration-coated finger uneasily against the trigger, stared back up into the coal-black void and waited for them to pick up our scent.

  As a youngster, my father would often scold me for the innocent, childlike ways I’d sometimes exhibit in his presence. Thomas Duffus Ellington could never have been described as a tolerant man, especially when he’d a jug of rum inside his belly. Drunk or sober, my father could be prone to bouts of violent temper and ill moods. Impatient by nature, he would often raise his huge hand to me and bark his disdain for my own lack of innocent adolescent restraint. “Pickney, any damn fool can hold on ta de helm when de sea is calm.”

  From an early age I’d learnt the hard way how to be patient, educated in such matters by an ill-tempered patriarch, a man more accustomed to making his point by striking me with his leather belt than by an edifying word.

  I had not given a great deal of thought to my father’s brutal rages and cruel behaviour towards me for a very long time. The man I’d grown to despise as a child had unwittingly crawled back into my memory and joined Truth and me as we sat huddled up in the dark, biding our time, hoping that Paxton and the others would finally move their search for us further afield.

  Finally, after what seem like an eternity, the strafing beams from their torches overhead suddenly disappeared and the hedgerow and moorland above us became devoid of any human life. I lifted my left arm up close to my face and peered down at my wristwatch. I could just make out the faint luminous hands on the dial: it was 3.20 a.m. I rested the revolver on the top of my thigh, released the hammer slowly back down behind the rear sight and slipped the gun into my jacket pocket then bent forward a little and whispered into Truth’s ear.

  “We’re gonna wait here a while longer, make sure that those guys are well outta the way.”

  Truth turned her head towards me and whispered a reply. “And then what are we going to do, Joseph?”

  I looked straight ahead of me, out into murky gloom, unable to answer her. I could offer no assurances to the poor child. No master plan for our escape, no magic I could conjure up to make things right.

  Truth, sensing my fear and reticence, drew herself up as close as she could and let her head fall limply against my right shoulder. She reached down and took hold of my hand, her little fingers quickly wrapping themselves around my own, and squeezed them tightly. We sat in silence, motionless, enveloped by the thick, dank undergrowth around us. Two scared souls hiding in the dark.

  I turned on the torch and ran the narrow beam along the ground until it reached the craggy rocks at the cliff face. I moved a little closer, and with my back close to the undergrowth, I leant out over the edge and shone the light down the left-hand side of the face. I began to pick out a series of thin stone outcrops that hung like steps down to what I thought could be the ground. I got to my knees and tried to pick out what was below, but the weak flashlight beam struggled to break through the inky pitch to the floor. I followed the steps down along the side rock wall with the light and could see that what I had first thought of as being a vertical drop into nowhere was in fact a man-made wall of dug out craggy limestone, which I believed could reach down into an old mine. I let the torch beam skirt along the middle of the stone wall and made out a series of large boreholes, probably made by miners who had at some time drilled then sunk gelignite into the rock to blast out the much-prized lime.

  I looked up into the darkness above me and then back down into a black unwelcoming nothing. We had two unknown routes of possible escape: the moor and the limestone mine below. If we returned to the moor I felt sure it wouldn’t take long for Paxton and Jardine to be back on our tails again. We’d stand little chance of staying one step ahead of them. I decided we’d take our chances by going down. I sat on my butt and made sure the holdall on my back was secure then shone the torch at the stone outcrop less than a foot below me. I swung my legs over the edge then turned to Truth and let the beam of the torch sit at the tip of her feet. “OK, little one, I need you to scoot down towards me on your bottom; can you do that for me?”

  Without making a sound, Truth got on to her haunches then slowly pushed herself towards me. I leant backwards and reached out my arms, catching hold of her by the waist, then sat her down beside me. I shone the torch back onto the first limestone step that had been cut out of the rock face, found a solid piece of rock to use as a handhold for me to grip, and twisted myself round, then let myself slowly drop down onto the ridge. I steadied myself and shone the torch to my right, picking out the next outcrop, perhaps another foot and a half away. On the rock face in front of me and below I could now see dozens of deep boreholes that had been blown out of the alabaster rock face, each making a good foothold for our descent. I looked up at Truth and reached out my arms towards her.

  “I want you to lean forward and put your arms around my neck, then you gotta spring down to me and hold on to me real tight.”

  Truth peered down warily at me. “Why, what are you going to do, Joseph?”

  “No questions, child, you gotta just do as I ask, OK?” The little girl looked down into the blackness below her. I raised my hand up to Truth’s face and caught the underside of her chin with the tips of my fingers.

  “Don’t look down there, little one. I need you to look at me. You gotta trust me again. Just like you did last time, back in the caves. Can you do that for me?” Truth nodded her head at me compliantly. “Good, now reach down and clasp your arms around my neck like I said.”

  Truth leant forward and let herself slowly drop, throwing her arms out as she fell forward. She wrapped her legs around my waist and grasped on for dear life around my neck and shoulders.

  “OK, there you go. Good girl. That’s the worst part over. Here’s what you gotta do for me now. I want you to shut your eyes and I don’t want you to open them till I tell you to, understand me?”

  Truth stuck her face into the crook of my neck and nodded her head.

  I stuck the torch into my mouth and held onto it with my teeth then reached across to my right and grasped hold of the inside of the borehole and stretched my leg out down onto the next limestone outcrop. Once standing on the thin crag, I again shone the torch back across the side of the wall.

  Another two feet below us was a further overhang, this time cut a little deeper into the corner face of the limestone. To get to it meant reaching out across the face of the rock again, grabbing another blast hole and then climbing the short distance down to it. I chose the nearest handhold and looked for somewhere in the limestone to stick my foot into. I gripped hold of the torch with my teeth again and felt Truth’s body stiffen. She clenched both her arms and legs tightly around my neck and waist as I moved towards the edge of the crag.

  “Here we go, keep those eyes shut.” I reached out with my left hand and snatched hold of the hole in the wall then swung my foot towards the foothold below. The toe of my shoe jammed itself into the shallow recess and I pulled myself across, my right leg following after me, the sole of my shoe scraping the wall as I tried to find another secure footing. Truth tensed and became heavy around my torso. My leg flailed about in mid-air as I struggled to find something for my other foot to perch on. She instinctively tightened her grasp around my neck, almost choking me.

  I felt the chalky limestone around my left foot begin to give way; my fingers cramped and sp
asmed and began scrabbling to keep hold of the edge of the borehole. I quickly looked down at the overhang less than a couple of feet to my right and felt a surge of panic run through my body. Without thinking, I flung myself across the rock face and fell down onto the flat lip of the overhang.

  The impact shot the torch from my mouth, sending it flying across the smooth rock. My right leg twisted and I felt my knee give way as I rolled hard onto my back. A wave of pain ran up through my body as I lay on the ridge, gasping for breath. I looked down at Truth, her head still tucked away in my chest, her tiny arms still gripping the life out of me.

  The two of us sat for a short while with our backs against the wall of the overhang. I’d retrieved the battered torch, which still had the faintest of battery life, and tried to rub the pain out of my knee. I felt Truth’s body lean against my arm. I looked down at her and could just make out that her eyes were still tightly snapped shut. Without my prompting, she eventually opened her eyes then lifted her hand and rubbed at her throat.

  “I’m thirsty, Joseph.”

  “Me too. I’m gonna find us someting to drink as soon as we’re outta here. You got my word on it.”

  I could feel my own throat tightening and the inside of my mouth drying as I spoke the words. The thought of finding us both fresh water made me forget the pulsating waves of pain and fatigue that shot sporadically through my worn-out body. I edged across towards the ledge of limestone overhang and shone the torch down below me again.