by Matt Drabble
He made a mental note to have strong words with Anderson when he got back to town and to show him how cowards were dealt with.
He was still leading the group when he emerged out of the woodland and into a clearing about halfway to the monastery, but what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
Across the clearing, there suddenly emerged another group of men.
From their clothing, he could tell that these men were from the monastery, but they didn’t look like the feeble monks he’d been expecting. Instead, these men looked big, strong and mean; worse still, they seemed to be carrying weapons.
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The two groups spotted each other and moved slowly further out into the clearing. The numbers were just about even, and even from a distance of about 50 feet or so, the tension was almost unbearable as they all stood in silence, gazes locked and anger starting to boil higher.
Inch by inch they edged closer, stepping out into no-man’s land as the first droplets of rain started to fall.
A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky and a flash of lightning soon followed, illuminating the deathly silent battlefield.
Time stood still but the men kept on edging out ever closer until they could smell each other. Brawn and injustice stood on either side with both sides convinced of their virtue and the guilt of the other.
Torvan took a step out ahead of his brothers and Cooper felt duty bound to follow although his own courage was starting to falter. He’d seen Torvan before and had considered the man to be the only threat at the monastery, but now it appeared the giant monk had strong friends.
Cooper wondered if it was still too late to turn and run. Perhaps Anderson had had the right idea all along.
He was all for violence, just as long as the odds were stacked heavily in his favour. This was way too much like a fair fight for his liking. The trouble was that he couldn’t turn back now. If he’d been alone, then he’d have already been running, but the men behind him were preventing that.
As he walked, something in his mind was screaming at him to flee, that all of this was going to end badly; but instead, his feet kept on edging further towards God only knew what.
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“THERE! THERE!” Quinn yelled loudly.
Caleb stamped on the brakes hard enough to send a shower of gravel spinning up into the air as he yanked the steering wheel over and skidded to a sudden halt up on a grass verge.
He followed Quinn’s finger and saw the two groups of men facing off across the clearing down the slope.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed breathlessly as he flung open the door and leapt out of the car.
Quinn was out of the car almost as quickly and had to run to keep up with Caleb’s much longer legs covering the ground quicker.
“What are you going to do?” she yelled at him as a roar of thunder hammered overhead loud enough to make her flinch.
“I’ve no idea!” he shouted back honestly.
The rain started to fall now. It grew quickly in its intensity, and by the time that they reached the clearing, it was hard to see straight.
Quinn had to hold a hand up to her eyes to keep the stinging rain out as it blew in from the sea on a strong salty wind.
They both ran into the gap between the factions, and Caleb immediately turned towards the islanders with his hands held up high to stop them. At the same time that they got there, Quinn noticed another man come stumbling out of the woodland behind the Niners.
She turned towards the new man and recognised Solomon Abel. He was staggering and looked to be exhausted. His robe was torn and tattered by an obviously difficult journey through the woods. His face was wide and wild but also alarmed.
Quinn stopped in her tracks and then took a step backwards as Solomon rushed out past the other Niners, but he didn’t approach her. Instead, he turned back to face his kin, mirroring Caleb’s stance.
She looked back and forth with her breath held for a painful long time as the two men tried to stop both sides before blood was drawn.
The weather had worsened as lightning lit the sky above them and thunder roared to an ear-splitting level. The rain was being whipped harder now as the wind picked up strength and Quinn felt the whole world stop and turn to watch them.
“Listen here, now. You men just go on home now,” Caleb ordered with his arms spread open wide. “You hear me?”
“Torvan, enough now!” Solomon yelled above the rising storm. “This is not the way, you hear me? This is not the way!”
There was a loud chorus of yelling from the gathered groups standing behind their leaders - angry voices demanding action, vengeance and retribution.
Quinn looked at Cooper Fox and saw hope. The islander was a coward at heart and now he looked scared but unable to find a way out. She knew that Caleb could reach him and turn him back. If he could do that, then the others would surely follow.
She was having some trouble seeing now as the wind blew the hard rain directly into her field of vision. She blinked the drops away furiously as Caleb continued to try and stand down the islanders. He seemed to be making some progress.
“Listen to me, Cooper. You don’t want to do this. I know you don’t. Take a look at them,” he said, pointing back to the Niners - big, beefy-armed men who continued to look menacingly back at them with unblinking eyes.
“These aren’t some old monks who can’t fight back,” Caleb continued. “There will be blood spilt here today and a lot of it will be ours!”
Quinn saw Cooper take a step back, and even through the rain, she could see the fear clearly now in his gaze. Cooper didn’t want the fight, or at least he didn’t want this one.
“You people go on home now,” Caleb yelled out to the rest of the islanders. “There will be no fighting here today. Do you hear me? NOT TODAY!”
Quinn turned back to the Niners and the man leading them. Torvan had no fear in his eyes. Instead, there was only insanity brewing.
“Torvan,” Solomon pleaded. “Listen to me, my son. You have to listen to me now. This isn’t what the gods want, I promise you that. This isn’t what I want, and it isn’t what your mother would have wanted either.”
At the mention of the man’s mother, Quinn saw Torvan momentarily falter for the first time.
“This isn’t the way, Son. This has never been our way, and you know that, don’t you.” Solomon stated rather than asked.
Quinn watched as the Niners’ elder statesman walked right up to what was apparently his actual son by blood. Solomon wiped the rain from his face as the storm continued to rage overhead.
Torvan was holding a huge axe of some kind of medieval design, and the weapon dipped down low in his hands as his father approached.
The two men were almost equal in size, but Torvan was by far the younger, and while his father’s shoulders were starting to droop, Torvan’s were wide and square.
The two men stared at each other, and for the first time, Quinn felt hope that Torvan could be talked down from the ledge he was currently precariously balancing on.
Solomon placed a hand on his son’s shoulder as Torvan dipped his head, seemingly in submission, before the elder man addressed the larger crowd on both sides.
“This is not our way!” he yelled above the storm. “You should all know by now that we are a peaceful order. That is all we have ever wanted - to live in peace.”
“Then move out!” someone yelled from the islander’s side and was met with a round of cheers from his own side and a rumble of anger passed through the Niners’ side.
“Stop that shit!” Caleb shouted the voice down instantly. “This island belongs to all of us. It always has and it always will as long as I have anything to say about it. As long as I’m constable here, then there will be peace. UNDERSTOOD?” he yelled to both sides.
His words were punctuated by a rumble of thunder which was then met with a blinding flash of lightning, indicating that the storm was now directly above them.
Quinn watched
on now as Solomon moved out in front of his people and son and into the stretch of no-man’s land between the two groups.
“We may not be part of your world, but trust me, I do understand it. I know that your mill is gone and with it your jobs. I understand that you are angry and believe that we stand in your way, but we are prepared to work together. Like the constable says, this island belongs to all of us and I do believe that we can work together.”
Quinn had to steady herself as a huge gust of wind blew down the channel and threatened to take her off her feet. The noise of the storm was deafening but the men in the eye of it fell silent.
She let out a huge sigh of relief as everyone seemed to be taking a breath. Caleb was an impressive man when he let out his strength and washed it over his people. They respected him and no one quite dared to challenge him face to face.
Despite Solomon’s advanced age, he still seemed to hold sway over the rest of the Niners, even Torvan.
She knew now that the rapidly approaching disaster was averted. This stretch of woodland clearing could have quickly turned into a graveyard, but two good men were prepared to stand in front of the onrushing train. She knew all of that: right up until the moment that it all went to hell.
Torvan moved quicker than his size and bulk suggested he was capable of. One second he had been looking down at the ground, seemingly defeated, and the next he was standing behind his father.
The huge axe swung through the air with deathly speed and immense power. Quinn’s eyes were locked with Solomon’s and his face was still smiling gently when the blade struck.
Quinn didn’t have time to scream, let alone sound out a warning. The axe tore down through Solomon’s head, splitting it in two with immeasurable force, and kept on going.
The Niners’ leader was cleaved in two down to his waist before the axe finally became embedded in thick bone. Blood spurted high into the stormy air, showering those close enough to be struck with the spray. Torvan’s face was splashed red with the mist and now Quinn could see that his eyes were truly insane.
Time stood still as all heads turned towards the hideous sight as Solomon jerked around before finally buckling to the ground on his knees before pitching forwards. No one spoke as the grisly sight paralysed them all. Eventually, someone’s scream broke the paralysis and Quinn was genuinely shocked to find that she was the one screaming.
Torvan was desperately trying to rip his axe free out of the bloody mess of his father, and Caleb was staring in disbelief at the sight, along with the rest of the islanders.
Quinn backed away from both groups the way she’d come in, dimly remembering even through her shock that there was a getaway car back up the slope.
Mercifully, Torvan gave up on his weapon as Solomon’s split corpse refused to give it back, the blade being embedded deep into his hip bone.
The huge man opened his mouth and screamed something to his companions, but whatever he yelled was drowned out to Quinn’s ears by a huge bark of thunder. The immediate lightning flash that illuminated the battlefield showed Torvan’s expression was one of unbridled joy.
Quinn watched on as Torvan pulled a wicked-looking scythe from his belt and pointed it forwards in a rallying call to his troops, and they answered.
The Niners suddenly charged and the islanders ran equally as fast, but only in the opposite direction.
Quinn stopped in her retreating tracks as Caleb froze. Without thinking, she charged back into the clearing and grabbed his arm, dragging him with her. Despite the fact that he was far larger and heavier than she was, her body was infused with desperation and terror which allowed her to get him moving.
He staggered after her and together they ran away from the retreating islanders and the charging Niners. They ran back up the slope and away from the screams that were starting to be carried on the strong sea winds that followed them.
“RUN! RUN!” she screamed at him as he threatened to turn back to the fray.
They sprinted together, she holding onto his arm as he dragged her along. They’d almost reached his car when suddenly Caleb was falling backwards. Quinn turned to see the terrifyingly deranged face of one of the Niners who’d followed them instead of Cooper’s men.
The man’s eyes were wild and bulging out of his face. Caleb grunted loudly in pain as the Niner buried a knife into his shoulder. The two men fell to the ground and started to struggle violently.
Her grip on Caleb’s arm slipped when he fell and now she was free and clear, but her friend wasn’t. She aimed a kick at the man’s head as he manoeuvred himself on top of Caleb, his thick hands gripping the constable’s throat, rapidly turning his face blue in the process.
Quinn’s foot struck him cleanly in a wild punt and a shockwave of pain ran up her leg all the way to her hip. The man’s head snapped back and blood spurted from his mouth as his top teeth bit through his lower lip, severing a chunk of flesh that fell like a fat slug onto the ground.
Caleb took the moment to clasp his fists together before striking out with a double-handed blow. The Niner fell off him and Caleb climbed back to his feet coughing and spluttering.
“CAR!” Quinn yelled without the need to explain further.
She shoved him and Caleb staggered to the side of the car, thankfully finding it unlocked. He clambered in, still with the knife sticking out of his shoulder and encumbering his ability to get through the doorway.
Quinn ran around to the driver’s side and yanked the door open, but before she could get in, strong hands gripped her hair from behind and started to pull her away. The Niner’s fingers were wrapped into her locks and she couldn’t fight his strength.
She kicked out with a sturdy boot hard against his shin before scraping it downwards, but he wouldn’t release his grip. She felt herself falling backwards into him and knew that he would snap her neck like a breadstick once he rearranged his grip. Instead of fighting him harder, she fought him smarter.
With one hand, she reached behind her and grabbed him by the one place on a man that no insanity could protect. She squeezed him as tightly as she could muster and the man howled in high-pitched pain.
His hands let go of her as he collapsed to the ground, clutching his crown jewels.
Quinn quickly opened the car door again and climbed in, but somehow the man reached out and grabbed her again, this time around the ankle. Even though he was ground bound, he was still crawling with unremitting rage.
He crawled towards her and she pulled him up in her fight to get free. His fingers were like a vice and she could feel blood running into her sock. Again she used her brain, and despite every instinct, she stepped back out towards the man. His face was now a couple of feet or so up off the ground and lined up with the footwell of the car with his back against it.
With a surge of adrenaline, she yanked her foot free, feeling a chunk of skin come away. She grabbed the door firmly and swung it closed with the man’s head in the way. She slammed the door over and over again against his crumbling face, ignoring the waves of nausea tumbling in her stomach.
She slammed the door again and again until the inside of it was smeared bloody, and only when the Niner stopped moving did she relent.
She stepped over him and pushed his now-motionless body away from the car before closing the door. It wouldn’t shut properly now as she’d bent the metal out of shape but she jammed it shut enough to drive with.
“Caleb! CALEB?” she yelled when he didn’t answer the first time.
She pulled him forwards slightly and saw that there was a lot of blood seeping out from under the knife that was still stuck in him.
“Take it out,” he mumbled in a hoarse whisper.
“I can’t. If I do, you might bleed out. Just lean forwards and I’ll get you to the doc’s.”
“Is he…?” he asked, nodding towards the man outside on the ground.
“I..., I don’t know, but right now, I don’t care.”
“We... we didn’t do a very good job of stopping
them, did we?” Caleb whispered in an even weaker voice that got Quinn’s heart racing in concern.
She didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she started the car and drove away as quickly as she could manage. He was right, of course: they hadn’t stopped anything, and right now, there was a murderous mob heading for town and prepared to kill anything in their path.
CHAPTER 14
Bad to worse
Sam Cartwright ran as fast as his ageing legs could carry him, which wasn’t very fast.
He knew now that Bernard had been right about leaving the Niners alone. Much like the other men in their hastily assembled group, he’d assumed that they would simply put a scaring onto the monks and they’d ship out. He’d never thought for a second that he’d end up running for his life.
Like most of the islanders, he knew these woods well, but now every branch and tree looked the same, and with the rain pelting down hard, it was difficult to catch his bearings.
He had his old hunting rifle hung over his shoulder, and while it was getting in the way of his ability to run, he couldn’t quite bring himself to toss it aside.
There were sounds drifting up and out from all around him on the strong winds. The woods had a tendency to send up rogue echoes, and at times, he thought someone was behind him and then in front. He pressed on regardless and could only hope that he was heading in the right direction.
He ran around a bend and suddenly found himself crashing into a large figure standing still in the middle of the path. The man was large, and Sam was sent flying backwards, landing in a heap on the wet ground.
Sam immediately reached around for the rifle that was now tucked under him where he’d fallen on it. A combination of the storm and blind panic made him only concentrate on pulling the rifle out, up, and then firing it.
It was a bolt-action weapon which required more of his attention to reload another round, and he somehow managed three shots before God smiled down on him, and the large man in front of him finally fell.
