Even Pretty Things Rot: A dark, heart-pounding psychic thriller

by Farah Ali

  Jack’s teeth clattered together and he leaned over and dry heaved. He moaned.

  David smiled, showing stained eyeteeth.

  What big teeth you have, Grandma. Jack giggled at the absurd thought.

  David laughed along but his eyes were cold. ‘We don’t need rope. There’s a way out of here, through the tunnels. There’s a network of caves beneath the forest, as you found out the hard way.’

  Jack turned his head. He couldn’t see the entrance in the dark, but the draft emanating from the shaft caressed his skin like a woman’s breath. Doubt and anxiety churned in his belly.

  ‘Are you sure? What’s down there? How long will it take?’

  David shifted impatiently. ‘More caves, but I know the way out. It won’t take long. I promise.’

  Jack cringed. The thought of dragging his broken limb further underground in the pitch black was more than his soul could bear. ‘I can’t, I just can’t. Please, there has to be another way, I’ll just wait until morning, maybe someone will find me. Maybe...maybe you can get help for me.’

  David sighed heavily. ‘Look, Jack. I would love to, I really would. But I just won’t be around tomorrow. I’ve got responsibilities, things to do, people to see. This offer is a one-time thing. And look at the state you’re in. Do you think you’ll last much longer without water? You can’t see yourself, but trust me when I say you look like hell.’ He smiled blandly.

  Jack looked at the shaft then back at David. ‘Are you sure you know the way? I won’t get...lost?’

  David yawned, but there was something forced about it. ‘Of course I know the way. I live in the caves—how do you think I found you?’

  ‘You...you live underground?’ Jack couldn’t think of anything worse.

  ‘Yes,’ replied David flatly.

  Jack looked up at the hole he’d fallen through. Then back at Inspector Ash. He began to cry. If only he could think through the fog engulfing his brain. Dread skittered up and down his spine coming to rest in his groin. David stood and stretched, swinging his arms, peering down at Jack, tapping his foot.

  ‘Okay.’ Jack swallowed. ‘Okay. I’ll follow you.’ Lila was dead. What did he have to lose?

  David’s eyes glimmered. ‘Good. Good man. You won’t regret it.’

  David, still glowing softly, walked stiffly towards the tunnel entrance and squatted in readiness. Whimpering Jack turned his torso, biting down on screams as his splintered bones protested. Inch by inch he pulled himself along the rocky ground towards the back of the cave.

  Chapter Forty

  A light rain rippled over the leaves, the steady pitter-patter easing some of Lila’s fear as she traversed exposed roots and batted away encroaching branches. Exhaustion nettled behind her eyes and the rucksack weighed her down, but she charged onwards only slowing her pace when her burning muscles refused to cooperate. Barefoot when Bert and Alma had kidnapped her and barefoot now, she could only wince when something pricked or cut her feet and pray she didn’t encounter anything sharp enough to debilitate her. Consumed by thirst, Lila had drunk an entire bottle of water in one go and the warm liquid churned and sloshed in her empty belly with every movement.

  With Bert’s headlamp strapped to her forehead and a heavy torch in her hand Lila was able to penetrate the chilly gloom, but her teeth chattered, not for cold, but for fright.

  Frightened of getting lost, frightened the ground would crumble beneath her feet, and frightened Jack would be dead before she got to him. But what dismayed Lila the most were the shadowy figures dodging the light and the certainty that multiple eyes were watching her. Urgent, seductive voices whispered her name, but she steadfastly refused to look anywhere apart from straight ahead, even when one said in a childish sing-song:

  ‘We know what happened to your family, Lila. Don’t you want to know what happened to Mama, Papa and Maura? Follow us and we’ll show you. We’ll show you...’

  ‘GO AWAY I’M NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR LIES,’ she yelled.

  But her bravery vanished when she stumbled upon three bearded men warming their hands around a campfire, with daggers in scabbards around their waists, their guns besides them, their garments blood-spattered and outdated. They rose as one, their leering black eyes like bottomless pits in their rotting skin raking her from head to toe. The youngest massaged his crotch and stepped forward.

  ‘This one will do nicely. Very nicely indeed. Where’s your precious deer now? Come over here sweetheart, we’ll satisfy you better than any Ayal man could.’

  With a shriek, Lila swatted their groping hands, shining the high wattage torch into their faces until they hissed and cowered, vanishing into the murk, the fire fading away with them.

  Pumping her arms, Lila ran, dodging and leaping rocks, fallen trees and exposed roots. Intent on her progress she flew past the splintered, scorched tree. Skidding, she lost her balance and toppled onto her side sliding along the mud before turning back. Scanning the ground she found the hole and tested the ground before kneeling, directing the torch beam down it and calling Jack’s name.

  ***

  Jack, drenched in sweat and almost in touching distance of Inspector Ash, heard someone calling his name. He paused. It had sounded very much like Lila. He shuddered. You really are going crazy aren’t you?

  ‘Hurry up, Jack. Time is ticking,’ snarled David.

  Panting, Jack nodded.

  ‘JACK? Jack are you down there? Are you all right?’

  Exhausted and uncertain, Jack glanced over his shoulder. His heart leaped into his mouth as two pools of light, one smaller than the other shone into the cave, dancing over the rocks.

  ‘Lila?’ croaked Jack in disbelief. With a scrabbling movement he edged his way back hardly even feeling the pain anymore, the sweet sound of his name in her mouth taking away all the loneliness, all the nerve-shredding agony of the hours since Bert had tricked him.

  David grabbed Jack’s shoulder. ‘I don’t think so, Inspector. You’re mine.’

  The cold sliminess of his fingers triggered a primal revulsion snapping Jack back to reality.

  ‘GET OFF GET OFF ME!’

  The old Inspector’s face distorted into rage as he pulled Jack by the arm, trying to force him into that claustrophobic shaft. Any pretence of normality had gone—the man was insane and now Jack saw him for what he was—a shade of his former self, his skin peeling away, the stench of death about him. Worse, much worse, was the fact that one side of David’s face was now a mess of pulped bone and torn flesh—it was the side that had borne the impact of the fall off the hospital roof.

  Jack screamed, finally understanding what his subconscious had known all along—David Ash was long dead and had never intended to help him. Lila’s words came back to him in a rush as he yanked his arm away: ‘If you see one, whatever you do don’t talk to it, they’re evil. They are jealous, oh so jealous of the living, and their goal is to trick and torment us. And definitely don’t follow one or your tortured soul will end up wandering the forest for eternity.’

  Above ground, the screams chilled Lila to the core. They weren’t the screams of a man in pain—they sounded like a man out of his wits with terror.

  ‘I’m coming, Jack, please hold on, I’m coming.’

  Rifling through the rucksack she pulled out the rope and tied it around a sturdy tree nearby. With the rope dangling into the mouth of the cave she descended into a yawning blackness that seemed so much darker than the night sky.

  She never saw David Ash properly and she would always be grateful for that. Instead, she landed on the slick bottom of the cave, shining the torch all around her until she found Jack thrashing at the far end. As she neared she saw a glimpse of a mangled man trying to drag him away by the throat, one festering hand clamped onto Jack’s mouth. The hands withdrew at the increasing glare of her torch before disappearing underground with a bellow of fury.

  ‘GET AWAY GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME,’ shouted Jack, almost delirious with horror as Lila grabbed him under his ar
ms, heaving him along until he was close to the hole she’d climbed down.

  ‘Jack, it’s me, it’s Lila. You’re okay everything is going to be okay.’

  Jack peeped through his fingers flinching in the light. Lila put the torch down and dimmed the headlamp so he could see her properly.

  ‘You’re dead,’ he muttered. But his balls weren’t trying to crawl back into his body anymore.

  ‘No, I’m not dead,’ said Lila, speaking gently as if to a child. ‘I escaped. Bert and Alma, they tried to kill me, but...’ she took a deep breath. ‘It’s a long story. But they’re dead now. It’s over.’

  Jack tried to process this half-convinced it was an elaborate trick. He took in Lila, mud-splattered and off-colour thanks to the torch, but nothing like David Ash, a livid bruise encircling her neck, her eyes glazed and bloodshot as if she had survived something awful but still full of concern for him. Jack’s hands strayed to her head in wonder, stroking her as if she were a precious jewel.

  ‘Is it really you? How can this be possible?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me. I’ve come to rescue you.’

  He ruffled her hair hiccupping with laughter and relief. ‘Rescue me? I was supposed to rescue you.’

  ‘Ah, what can I say? Girl power,’ said Lila solemnly, then, for the first time in weeks, she smiled, a slow and wonderful grin that Jack wanted to look at forever.

  Then he noticed how hoarse she was. ‘What happened to your neck? Did they...hang you?’

  Lila bit her lip. ‘We can talk about it later. Right now we have to help you.’

  Jack shifted a little and gasped. The adrenaline surge that had helped him fight David had gone and now he was left with the reality of his broken bones and he trembled, biting the insides of his cheeks. Lila examined his leg feeling sick as she realised how bent out of shape it was. From Bert’s rucksack she took out two bottles of water, twisting the cap off one and holding it to Jack’s cracked lips giving him a few sips at a time so he didn’t throw up.

  She unzipped the first aid kit and found a box of over-the-counter pain relief. Maybe it would give Jack a little comfort. She took out two tablets and placed them on Jack’s tongue.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any morphine in there?’ said Jack with a wry smile, and Lila exhaled in relief thinking he couldn’t be in too bad shape if he could joke around. She felt the base of his neck managing to locate a thready pulse. Worried, she stood.

  ‘Jack, listen to me. I have to climb out and get help. I’m not strong enough to lift you out by myself, even with rope, not when your leg is broken.’

  He would be a dead weight and Lila could just imagine what it would feel like for him if she dropped him onto the rocks from a height. With a sinking feeling Jack stared knowing it was true. She might have been able to do it in full strength and health, but he could see her muscles quivering from fatigue and overuse. More importantly, how would she drag him through miles and miles of forest back to Deerleap? She had been through an ordeal and he couldn’t burden her with more. But still, the thought of being left alone again in this cave was hard to deal with.

  ‘I understand.’ But he didn’t want her to go. Stay, please stay Lila. Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.

  Lila blinked back tears sensing Jack’s misery. ‘I don’t want to leave you down here but I have to. You’re not doing well. Look, I’m going to leave the water and cereal bars. Do you think you can eat?’

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘I’ll leave them anyway. And also the painkillers. Take them whenever you need to. I’d build you a fire with Bert’s matches, but it’s been raining and the wood is wet up there.’ She put the large torch in his hand. ‘Here. Keep this. If you see another...spirit, shine this in its face. They can’t stand the light.’

  Jack grasped her wrist needing to share what he’d experienced. ‘I saw David Ash. He tried to take me down there.’ Jack pointed the torch towards the back of the cave.

  Sinking back onto her haunches Lila’s eyes widened and Jack saw his horror reflected in hers.

  ‘The old Inspector? Oh, my God. So it’s true. The Ayal curse got him. Poor man.’ She thought of the magnificent but dreadful Great Stag and shivered. ‘He shouldn’t have killed those deer.’

  Jack glanced doubtfully at the torch. ‘Are you sure you won’t need this? And what if you get lost? Maybe you should wait until daylight.’

  ‘The headlamp will be fine and I don’t want you to wait any longer. I won’t get lost. Not if I keep heading east,’ she replied, imbuing her voice with more confidence than she felt.

  It would be easy to get disorientated, especially in the dark, but what choice did she have? She hesitated then bent down and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Both winced—their lips were cracked and torn.

  ‘I’ll be back with help. I promise.’

  With one last look at him Lila clambered up the rope and Jack’s head drooped as she disappeared and he was left alone once more.

  Leaning against the lightning tree Lila unzipped the rucksack and lifted out the ball of red yarn she’d found there earlier. Her greatest fear was being unable to find her way back to Jack, but winding this around the trees might make it easier to retrace her steps. Weighing the ball in her hand she thought it wouldn’t last all the way back to Deerleap, but it was better than nothing.

  Lila turned the headlamp up to full beam, took a deep breath and ran back to the Hollow leaving Jack and the cave behind her.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Lila attempted to restore some semblance of normality to her life in the two weeks that passed after Jack’s difficult, nerve-wracking, but ultimately successful rescue.

  But as news spread of her miraculous escape from the killer couple, the part she played in the rescue of the Inspector, and her discovery of a third victim, Lila couldn’t go anywhere without being accosted by Deerleap residents. Some, like Old Benjamin, were hungry for details, staring at her neck until she began to wear a scarf, others, like Maggie, wanted to congratulate her, but the ones who disliked Lila regarded her with even more suspicion than before, muttering with friends behind their hands as she passed by.

  But worse than her sudden thrust into the spotlight were the gently swinging nooses she saw hanging from trees, from lampposts, from the eaves of houses. Her hands flew to her throat and she had to shut her eyes and count to ten before they went away.

  Business boomed in her little shop and the demand was such she nearly ran out of stock. Inevitably Lila received a flurry of psychic reading requests which she turned down, too preoccupied to concern herself with other people’s problems, spending her evenings listening to Tulip sing as she stared blankly at the walls of her home, her fingers returning again and again to the indentation in the side of her skull.

  Her encounter with the Great Stag stalked every thought and dream and Lila saw those deep shining eyes and mammoth antlers in every reflection. The infiltration and violation of her mind still haunted her.

  ‘Thy soul is clean. Speak witch, what does thou desire most?...It shall be done...At the next full—’

  She had so many questions. Why had the Great Stag called her a witch? What would have happened if Alma hadn’t interrupted? Could she summon him again? Was it all a hallucination triggered by trauma?

  Once, she had almost confided in Jack, visiting him at the police station where he was desk bound, his leg in a cast, a pair of crutches leaning against the wall, liking the way he brightened when he saw her. The colour was returning to his cheeks and she’d been glad to learn that his bones were healing well and he was unlikely to suffer any permanent injury.

  When she asked him why he was back at work so soon his smile faded:

  ‘I prefer to be busy.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m still working on your family’s case. I’m going to interview your parents’ friends and neighbours again. If I’m not busy, I start to think about that cave and David Ash and how you almost died. You were incredibly lucky that Bert believed you and turne
d on Alma.’ He exhaled, collecting his thoughts. ‘Anyway. Best not to dwell I suppose. How are you? Is everything okay?’

  He studied her closely not liking the spasmodic twitch in her eyelid and the stiff way she held herself. The bruise around her neck was still ugly but it was fading, like the brief intimacy they had shared in the cave and Jack was surprised at how disappointed this made him feel. Lila seemed distant and distracted—that was to be expected, but he wished she would open up a little. Her witness statement had been gut-wrenching and he’d shaken his head in remorse for what the Peabodys had put her through.

  Alika, who had taken Lila’s statement while Jack was being operated on, told him that she’d urged Lila to talk to a therapist who could help her deal with the kidnapping and torture. Lila had been firm in her refusal but Jack considered suggesting it again. He was worried about her.

  Lila met his concerned gaze noting the caution in his eyes. They’d had an explosive argument the day Jack was released from the hospital. Lila had asked Jack to send officers into the forest to retrieve Pari’s body. Angus Brent had refused which didn’t surprise her at all, but Jack’s refusal to even contemplate the idea had hurt.

  ‘So you’re happy to let Pari rot in there? Without a proper burial?’

  Jack sagged against the wheelchair. ‘I know, Lila. I don’t like it either. But it’s too dangerous. I never understood why the mayor and the police chief were so reluctant to send people into the forest, but now I do. I understand what that place is like. I can’t risk my officers for a girl who’s already dead. I’m sorry. If it was on one of the main trails then that would be different and—’

  Lila stormed out, muttering to herself all the way back home. But something draped among the branches of a silver birch in the narrow lane turned her blood to ice chips. Climbing up and pulling it away she stared unblinking, not quite believing, but knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it was Bert’s yarn, the yarn that helped the rescue team find Jack again. The wadded mass of fraying red had been tied into hundreds, no thousands, of miniature knots. A frigid terror lodged in her throat and she dropped the string as if it were ablaze.