‘You won’t get out of here alive,’ Grey sneered.
‘We’ll see,’ Denzil said, securing the twine tight around Grey’s wrists and patting him down. He turned to Luc. ‘Are you alright with him if I go and get FJ?’
‘Yeah, no problem.’
Denzil left the room as Luc pushed Grey onto the bed and retrieved his revolver from the floor, training it on the wheezing man. Luc slipped Grey’s knife into his robe. He pressed his fingers to his neck and studied his bloody fingertips.
‘Are you alright?’ I asked.
‘It’s just a little cut,’ he said. ‘You okay?’
I nodded. ‘I better go and check on Annabelle. She was pretty shaken up.’
Luc tilted his head and I turned to see the girl coming through the door. Her step faltered as her gaze landed on Grey, her mouth falling open in disbelief.
‘Is that . . .’
‘Grey?’ Luc finished her sentence. ‘Yeah.’
Annabelle didn’t come any further and I could see that even though the man was bound and gasping for breath, he still had the power to terrify.
‘I am your father,’ Grey wheezed. ‘You will burn in hell for your treachery, girl.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ I said.
‘He’s not your father,’ Luc added. ‘He’s just a sad old man.’
Luc hauled Grey to his feet and pushed him towards the door. Annabelle recoiled and so did I. His breathing was laboured and painful sounding, but he narrowed his dead blue eyes at me as he passed, probing for weakness. I glared back, but I didn’t feel brave at all. I felt violated.
Denzil stood on the landing holding a young man by the shoulders. The man’s hands were bound. I guessed it must be FJ. He wore a cotton shirt and rough linen trousers and as he lifted his head, I saw that he was absolutely beautiful. So beautiful that it took me aback. He saw me catch my breath and smirked. I scowled. Beautiful he might be, but he was a part of this place and this place was rotten.
‘Where are the cell keys?’ I asked.
Neither of the prisoners replied.
Denzil pressed his gun to Grey’s temple. ‘Answer the question.’
‘I have a set in my room,’ FJ said.
‘Where in your room?’ Denzil asked.
‘Top drawer of the dresser.’
I made a move towards FJ’s room.
‘You’ll need the key to the drawer,’ he said. ‘It’s around my neck.’
I approached him and pulled the neck of his shirt open revealing a thin chain with a key and a cross hanging from it. The fastening had slipped around to the front, so I had to face him as I undid the chain with fumbling fingers. I avoided eye contact, but I felt his gaze on my face, unnerving me.
Eventually I had the chain in my hands and slipped the key off.
‘Could I have my cross back?’ he asked.
I shrugged and dropped it into his hand. Then I went to get the cell keys, glad to be away from the two of them for a few moments. They were both unsettling in very different ways.
I found the keys where FJ said they would be, as well as a couple of sets of handcuffs which we used on Grey and FJ instead of the twine. Soon we were all back downstairs in the kitchen at the entrance to the cellar door.
* * *
Liss drifted in and out of an uncomfortable sleep, all the while aware of her freezing feet and numb legs. Her neck was stiff from leaning on Connor’s shoulder and her throat ached with a cruel thirst. In the midst of this discomfort, she dreamt she saw Annabelle standing before her in a halo of light. Her friend was speaking to her urgently, but she couldn’t make out what she was saying. Then she felt a hand shake her arm.
‘Lissy, Liss, wake up.’
Liss blinked and realised it was not a dream. Annabelle was really here and Connor was trying to get her to focus. To wake from her trance.
‘Anna?’ Her voice came out weak and hoarse.
‘Quick!’ Annabelle squeaked. ‘I’ve brought help, but we should leave now before anyone else comes.’
Connor stood and Liss tried to get to her feet, but her body was so numb and stiff that she couldn’t move. Connor knelt down and scooped her up in his arms. She was too weak to protest.
As they left the darkness of the cell, Liss made out the shape of other figures – a girl and some men, but she couldn’t focus properly. They were talking to Connor in hurried whispers, but she only caught odd words.
‘Water,’ she said. ‘Please.’
Connor carried her up the stone steps and into the kitchen. Someone handed her a cup of water and she gulped it down. It was ice cold, but she didn’t care. It soothed her throat and gave her a small boost of energy; cleared her mind a little. Connor set her gently down on the flagstone floor.
‘Here,’ one of the men said, wrapping a thick cloak around her shivering shoulders. ‘I’m Luc.’ He was about FJ’s age with short hair and kind eyes. ‘You’ll need some shoes too.’
‘There are boots in the laundry room,’ Annabelle said.
‘Anna,’ Liss said. ‘I can’t believe you did it. You got us out.’ They hugged.
‘You’re so cold, Liss. You’re like ice.’
‘I’ll be alright.’
‘Wait here. I’ll get you some socks and boots.’
‘Sorry, we’ve got no time for that,’ a huge black man said. ‘We’ve gotta go.’ But Annabelle ignored him and ran out of the room. He turned to Liss with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m Denzil.’
‘Thank you . . . for getting us out of there,’ Liss said.
‘Don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got a way to go.’
Next to Denzil stood two shackled prisoners. They had pillowcases over their heads and their clothes were wet and filthy. She wanted to ask someone about them but right now everybody was moving towards the back door.
At that moment, Annabelle ran back into the kitchen. She motioned to Liss to sit on a chair and knelt on the floor in front of her. She pulled a pair of thick woollen socks over Liss’s frozen feet and slipped a pair of leather boots over the top, lacing them quickly. Liss was grateful to her friend despite the fact that her feet were so cold she couldn’t feel the difference.
‘Hoods up everyone,’ Denzil said. He appeared to be the one in charge, but he hadn’t seemed to mind Annabelle disobeying him about the boots. ‘If we’re stopped out there, say nothing. Leave the talking to me or Luc. Okay?’
Everyone nodded and pulled up the hoods to their robes, giving the illusion that they were Grey’s guards, with the exception of the two prisoners.
‘Where’s my brother?’ Liss asked. ‘Is he okay? You didn’t hurt him did you?’
No one spoke. Denzil removed the prisoners’ hoods.
Liss took a step backwards. Their mouths had been tied with cloth and their clothes looked like outsiders’ rags, but standing before her were the figures of Grey and FJ, fury radiating from their eyes.
To witness James Grey up close, bound and gagged, was a shock. But it was even more disconcerting to see her brother like this.
‘FJ,’ she breathed. She knew she shouldn’t feel any pity for him; not after what he had put her through. But he was still her brother and part of her still loved him. Still loved the boy he had once been.
FJ was trying to speak to her, but she couldn’t make out his words through the gag.
‘Could you . . . Can you take off his gag?’ she asked.
‘Sorry, no time for that now,’ Denzil said. ‘You can talk to him later if you like.’
Someone took Liss’s hand and gave it a squeeze. It was the boy – Luc. His skin was warm and so was his smile. He only held her hand for a moment and then he let go.
Denzil slipped the hoods back over the prisoners’ heads. ‘I’m sorry. I know FJ’s your brother but we had no choice.’
‘No. I know you didn’t,’ she said. ‘I know.’
Chapter Thirty Three
*
Luc and Denzil had charge of the prisoners. They prodde
d them forward out of the kitchen door and into the soaking garden. Connor went next with Liss and Annabelle and I followed behind. To any casual observer, it would look as though we were six of Grey’s Guards with two prisoners.
The rain had eased a little, but the wind blew bitterly cold. I hoped our return journey would be more straightforward than the one on the way in. Annabelle moved up front to guide us back to the wall. The dogs appeared again, but they did not come close. Perhaps the presence of Grey or FJ had made them less aggressive. Annabelle sent them away with a single word.
We walked quickly and silently, the wind gusting and tugging at our robes, pulling at our hoods, threatening to expose our faces to an unseen enemy. It felt like we had been at the house for days. But in reality it had taken us less than an hour to incapacitate the guards, take our hostages and rescue Liss and Connor. Our next hurdle was to get out of The Close.
It would be an amazing feeling to finally get back to the copter. To slide onto the leather seats, fly up into the air and be safe for a while. I darted a glance over my shoulder – all clear so far, the empty house now a dim black shape behind us.
The rushing sound of the river merged with the wind and pattering rain. We walked quickly through the gate and made our way back alongside the wall of the North Canonry.
As we scurried through The Close, we kept to the shadows. To the edges of the buildings where the sleepless couldn’t spot us. We moved unhindered for a while and I dared to hope we might make it outside the walls without incident.
Grey and FJ still wore the pillowcases over their heads and because of this, the going was slower than we would have liked; they stumbled at every turn. Denzil and Luc prodded them onward to keep them moving. At least Grey’s coughing had ceased.
Suddenly, in the dark silence, a violent clanging rose up.
Liss confirmed our fears that it was the bells ringing an alarm. Grey’s people knew we were here. Someone must have seen us, or perhaps one of the unconscious guards had come to and managed to notify someone. Either way, it wasn’t good. My first instinct was to run, but Denzil told us to stay calm.
‘We look like guards,’ he said, raising his voice to make himself heard above the ringing. ‘There’s no reason they should stop us.’
I hoped he was right.
Within seconds, several robed guards appeared on the streets. And then more and yet more. Did we blend in well enough? My heart knocked against my ribcage and my steps were less steady. Connor turned and ushered me ahead of him so that now I walked between him, Luc and Denzil, no longer so vulnerable at the back.
‘If it gets ugly,’ Denzil said, ‘try not to fire your weapons. If you do we’ll have every guard in Salisbury here.’
Just then an uncloaked man stepped out in front of us and held out his hand to halt our progress. He was middle-aged and broad-shouldered and looked like a fighting man; his brow creased, his mouth stern, flanked by two robed guards. We had no choice but to stop.
He spoke a few words to Connor, but I couldn’t hear what was said above the clanging of the bells. I held my breath as he took a step toward the prisoners. If he saw their faces we’d be done for.
He reached forward and lifted FJ’s hood. I felt time stand still as he stared at the boy. I couldn’t tell if he’d recognised him or not. Then the man lurched towards Connor and yanked back his hood. Annabelle squealed. I hoped she and Liss wouldn’t bolt in fear.
Everything happened so fast. Denzil shoved the prisoners towards me. I grabbed their cuffs and held on tight. Meantime, Connor, Luc and Denzil fought the three guards. Punches flew, but no shots were fired. The uncloaked man lunged at Connor and grappled him to the ground. Connor head-butted the man and slid out from under him. He leapt to his feet, yanked the man’s head backwards and ran his knife across his throat, making a deep crimson line. The man’s face showed surprise and then anger before his head crashed back down to the ground.
Luc and Denzil had swiftly incapacitated the other guards, who were now sprawled at our feet. It had all happened so fast, I hoped we might be able to get out of here without drawing further attention.
Connor swayed next to me and I realised with dawning horror that there was a knife sticking out of his robes. That man must have stabbed him. Maybe he wasn’t too badly injured - he was still standing. But I quickly realised that wasn’t the case. Connor staggered, clutching at the knife in his side. I pushed the prisoners back to Denzil and put my arm around Connor while Luc supported him from the other side.
Glancing left and right, I saw several groups of guards approach, their pace quickening. Why the hell were we all still standing there, floundering like we’d already been caught? We needed to move.
‘Here!’ I shouted in the most commanding voice I could muster. ‘I’ve found the intruders!’ I didn’t even know if Grey had female guards, but I hoped that there would be too much noise from the bells and general confusion for anyone to notice the timbre of my voice. I stepped back from the others and pointed at the fallen men on the ground. ‘Seize them!’ I cried.
Within seconds, a cluster of guards had gathered around the bodies. I panicked in the chaos as I could no longer tell who was a guard and who was a friend. But Luc was still at Connor’s side and seemed to know which direction to head in. Together our group managed to slip away from the guards and hobble across the road. We followed Annabelle down a side-alley and did a quick head count. Then we criss-crossed our way through The Close, the bells still tolling.
Our progress was slow, but there was no time to stop and see how Connor was doing. All I knew was that he was becoming heavier to support. Less able to walk. I had no idea where we were. If we got separated from the others, I wouldn’t have the first idea which way to go.
As we continued on, I threw paranoid glances over my shoulder, convinced that hordes of guards were about to appear on our tail. I could hardly believe it when we finally reached the outer wall and the small wooden door to freedom. Annabelle unlocked it and we filed through, the bells sounding much fainter out here.
We had done it. But at what cost?
Locking the door behind us, it felt as though we were shutting the pages of a scary picture book. One I didn’t ever wish to open again.
Connor crumpled down onto the wet grass and I tried to ease back his robes to gauge how badly he’d been hurt. But the knife still protruded from his body, pinning his robes in place. And I didn’t want to remove the knife in case I made things worse.
‘We can’t stay here,’ Denzil said.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘I have to check on Connor. I think he’s hurt really badly. Connor, are you okay?’
He opened his eyes and tried to smile, but I could tell it cost him a lot of effort. I used my own knife to slit the coarse material. Liss removed her hood and knelt down to help me. Beneath the robes, Connor’s clothes were so heavily soaked from the rain that I couldn’t tell water from blood. But I could tell that the knife had pierced deep into his side. It looked really bad and even if it wasn’t fatal, there was no way he would make it back to the copter on foot.
‘It’s stopped raining,’ he said weakly.
‘Connor, how do you feel?’ I asked. ‘Can you stand?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘For what?’
‘For cocking this whole thing up and getting caught. For slowing you down now. For . . .’
‘Not your fault, mate,’ Denzil said. ‘We’re out of there now. That’s the main thing.’
I tried to think of something to say to make Connor feel better, but no words were forthcoming.
‘Riley,’ he said through a smile. ‘You’re my daughter.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes I am. We’ll talk about everything when we get home.’
He shook his head and grimaced with pain.
I realised Luc had his arm around my shoulder. ‘Riley,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I’m sorry. That wound isn’t good.’
I ignored his words and took Connor’
s hand in both of mine. ‘Can you stand, Connor? Can you get up? Or shall we carry you?’
‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You have to leave me here.’
‘What? No. We can carry you.’
‘No point. Now listen . . .’
‘No.’ I got to my feet and turned to Denzil. ‘You can lift him can’t you? You and Luc.’
‘Yeah,’ Denzil replied. ‘But we’ll have to go right now. The copter won’t hang about much longer. It can’t leave without us. If we don’t get to Ringwood, this whole thing will have been a waste of time.’
‘So let’s go,’ I said.
‘No,’ Connor said.
‘What do you mean “no”?’ I said. ‘You’re coming and that’s that.’ My emotions were spinning out of control. This man, this stranger on the ground was my father. I had his blood in my veins. I couldn’t lose him now. Not now we were finally about to get to know each other properly.
‘Riley,’ Connor’s voice was a croak now. ‘I haven’t got long.’
‘No,’ I whispered, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. I crouched down and picked up his hand once more.
‘I know you’d prefer it if I wasn’t your dad,’ he said.
‘What?’ I replied. ‘No . . .’
‘Shhh. Listen,’ he said. ‘I know and I don’t blame you. But I want to say – I’m proud of you. Johnny did a great job raising you. A better job than I would’ve done. I’m happy I got to meet you, Riley.’
‘But we can still . . .’
‘Let me finish,’ he said. ‘Be kind to your mum. We were young and stupid and in love and I know she loves you more than life. I’m happy I got to meet you. I feel . . . blessed.’
I couldn’t speak. All I could do was grip his hand tightly. Maybe my tears were enough to let him know that I was sorry for not allowing him into my life sooner. That I was sorry he was dying. That I was sorry I would never get to know him. My father.
‘Riley,’ Luc whispered. He kissed my temple. ‘I’m sorry. He’s gone.’
The Clearing (Outside #2) Page 17
