Carved in Stone: Monochrome Destiny

by T L Blake

  “Now!” Andrew shouted as headlights swept across them.

  She felt the hand on her back, she felt the shove as Andrew pushed her out of the moving vehicle and then she felt only air.

  Robyn’s feet hit down hard, the momentum of Andrew’s shove throwing her body clear of the door as the car continued to roll backwards. Overbalanced and leaning, she had no choice but to run as soon as her feet touched the ground.

  The Audi rolled slowly down the incline unoccupied, two doors wide open and Robyn turned to see Andrew on the bank heading for the church. She ran.

  Feet moving over gravel and then grass, Robyn caught Andrew’s outstretched hand. He grabbed onto her and pulled her up the bank.

  Behind them, they could hear the familiar sound of tyre rubber sliding on gravel as the vehicle that had moments ago foiled their departure, came to a sudden stop. Within seconds, three car doors slammed.

  Not yet at the top of the incline, Robyn didn’t waste any time looking back. She’d already guessed that it was James, George and David hot in pursuit.

  The valley spread out before them when they reached the top of the bank. The church stood embedded in the grey swathe of grass, black and unforgiving on this moonless night, it was a stark monolith. Across the valley the trees beckoned, offering shelter. Andrew pulled Robyn down the bank and skirted the church, staying in the shadows as they headed for the bottom of the valley.

  With the church looming to their left, they following the graveyard wall, ran past the headstones and headed out into open grass. They needed to cross the valley in order to climb the opposite bank and find sanctuary in the trees. But they were exposed. No shadows could hide them as they ran, black against grey, through the grass.

  A crack echoed out into the night. The sound bounced up the valley. Something smacked sharply into stone as the shot hit the church. A second crack, hit closer and Robyn didn’t know if it was the stone walls or the gravestones that had taken the brunt of the impact, but she could hear stone chippings being torn from their sculpted form and shattering out into the night.

  Her body slammed into the ground and she lay flat, sprawled across the grass. At the first shot, it had taken her brain a microsecond to make her legs buckle, a microsecond to compute the origin of the noise and a further microsecond to throw herself to the ground. The second shot had rung out so quickly after the first, that she had not hit the grass before it was made. Andrew, who lay sprawled beside her, was the first up.

  “Come on” he panicked, as he tugged on her hand and dragged her across the hillside. “He’s reloading”.

  Andrew dragged her across the dip in the valley and up the incline of the other side. It was steeper than she remembered and she struggled to keep up Andrew’s pace as he pulled her along with great urgency. She could see the trees and the welcoming darkness that they made, but they seemed so far away.

  The pain from her stomach was howling.

  A soft click echoed out, not the deafening noise of a shot, something else and Andrew immediately said “Down.”

  Robyn dropped.

  The click, she now realised, was the gun barrel being reclosed after the new shells had been slotted inside. The shooter didn’t hesitate. Shot thudded into the ground a few feet to her left. Either he could see them but his shot was off or he couldn’t see them but he knew roughly where we were. Whatever the answer, Robyn wasn’t looking forwards to the second cartridge. She could feel her whole body shaking as she fought the scream in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob until the inevitable shot tore through her body and rendered it useless.

  Andrew’s hand curled over Robyn’s. He had crawled through the grass that separated their prone bodies. His touch was warm, temperature warm, sensuously warm and calming warm. She felt not only his warmth drift into her, but his strength. She had time to blink before the second shot rang out and hit close enough that she could feel its impact with the ground.

  “Now.” Andrew dragged her to her feet.

  Robyn knew that they had little time before the shotgun was reloaded and she put all she had into running for the treeline. She gritted her teeth and pumped her legs as fast as they could go.

  With Andrew’s help, they got up the bank.

  The trees loomed over them. Their forms black against the grey of night sky. They were giant, timeless soldiers sent to protect them and they dived into the thicket just as shot took a chunk out of the trunk next to Robyn’s head.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  The gate was closed.

  They’d plunging through the darkness at an incredible pace. Robyn had only just been able to make out the branches, roots, and other objects determined to hinder them. Still it had taken hours to get there.

  Andrew had led her on a path parallel to the cliff and headed back to town instead of making the obvious move and heading back to her cottage. The path had been overgrown and barely noticeable, right up to the point where it had abruptly ended near Porthmollek. The walkway had been washed away by some old disaster, leaving an untraversable gap between two sheer rock faces. That must have been why the church had been abandoned.

  Andrew had pulled Robyn along an alternative route, his knowledge of the area assured despite the lack of light. He walked deftly and helped her over muddy ground, down an embankment and over the river where it was shallow enough to step across.

  They had entered Porthmollek as the sky had begun to lighten and made their way through the quiet streets, deserted roads and alleys to the harbour.

  James knew everything about his grandson, or so he thought, but Andrew hoped that he didn’t know about the boat. It appeared that Andrew had taken the surprising step of purchasing the vessel after their date. The purchase had been private, nothing that he had discussed with James and he now hoped that they could sail away and escape.

  When they caught sight of the boat, Robyn had been elated, until Andrew’s hand had tensed in hers. Andrew pushed her back against a wall, putting stone between her and the expanse of trapped water in front of them.

  “The gate’s shut,” he whispered, putting his hands on her shoulders and holding her in place.

  “Shouldn’t it be?” She knew nothing about sailing but had assumed that the gate was normally shut at night to protect the boats, to stop them from being stolen.

  “It’s never shut.” His face was so close to hers that their noses almost touched. His voice was the quietest of whispers.

  “Never?” She could feel the anxiety pouring over her as if Andrew was radiating it.

  “It’s a storm gate. They only shut it when there’s a storm. It’s only job is to protect the harbour from flooding.” Andrew tentatively looked around the corner at what she assumed was the gate.

  “They don’t normally shut it at night?”

  “No, the fishing fleet needs access to the harbour at all hours. Their hours are dictated by the tide.”

  Stupidly, she hadn’t thought of that. “Are they expecting a storm?”

  Andrew slowly shook his head.

  So the gate was shut and there wasn’t a storm coming. What did that mean?

  “Can we open it?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the problem.” Andrew’s eyes turned to hers, luminous pale blue swirling in a rich pool of cerulean. They would have been startling even if she could see colour elsewhere. “It shouldn’t be shut.”

  “Shouldn’t? You think they shut it.” They were out of options, no car, no boat and the sun would be up soon making it more difficult to hide. How many people would be out searching for them? How far could they get if they started now? God, she was so tired. How long had they been running?

  “It’s not just that,” Andrew whispered, “The tide is heading out, has been for a while. If we don’t get that boat out of the harbour quickly, it’ll be trapped there. There won’t be enough water to clear the harbour entrance.”

  Robyn’s eyes locked to Andrew’s, both of them looking to the other for a
nswers, looking to the other for strength. Robyn had no epiphany. There was no alternative plan. They were trapped and they were running out of energy. Defeat felt inevitable.

  Andrew must have seen her resignation for he pushed away from her and stood tall. A resolve had come into his eyes. “I’m opening it,” he stated and started towards the harbour.

  As the sky lightened further, Andrew ran towards the great behemoth of harbour wall that obscured the view of the sea. Running in the shadows as the dim light offered him little protection from prying eyes, he skirted around the edge of the trapped pool of water. Robyn followed and joined him at the far end of the harbour wall, by the gate.

  The gate was metal, dark and it now closed the gap between the two harbour walls. To Robyn’s surprise it had a walkway, with railings, across the top of it. When the gate was closed it allowed passage to the other side of the harbour without the need to walk all the way around.

  Directly across from the gate and hunkered up against the other harbour wall, was what Robyn could only describe as a small shack. Constructed of stone with one small window, it was the size of a small garden shed. Roofed in slate and erected in the same stone as the harbour wall itself, some attempt had been made to make the little building blend in, but the new mortar stood out as a stark white. It was the only building on an otherwise empty expanse of concrete.

  “That’s where we’re going,” Andrew whispered, nodding his head in the direction of the shack, “It houses the gate mechanism. We can lower it from there.” He looked around at the lifeless harbour, knowing that they would be easily seen as they stepped over the walkway but they had no choice but to persevere.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  Andrew’s stare was intense and Robyn knew what he meant to say. She understood the risks that they needed to take. There didn’t appear to be anyone around, but appearances could be deceiving and their pursuers were armed. The chances of them getting out of this had become infinitesimally small.

  “Yes.” She gave the smallest of nods.

  Andrew took her hand.

  They crossed the gate quickly but with great care as the metal transferred any sounds from their footsteps out to the surroundings like a giant speaker. Robyn was glad that they both wore trainers because with the sea calm, the breeze light and the town asleep, there was little to cover any sounds that they made.

  The water was good ten feet below them, gently lapping up against the metal gate, as they crossed, and she knew that each undulation of the waves pulled the tide away from them. With every second it was less and less likely that they could get the boat out.

  The shack was fitted with a wooden side door that was fastened with a large combination padlock. Andrew reached for the lock and entered a code. “I took notice the one time I watched the harbourmaster unlock it.”

  Andrew pulled the door outwards, revealing a pitch black interior. There was no time to try to look into the darkness because, as soon as the door opened, Robyn heard Andrew gasp. The sound came too late to avoid the oncoming freight train that knocked her, sprawling, to the ground.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  One after the other, two men ran out of the door. The first knocked Robyn flat with a hard shove and then dived at Andrew. Tall, heavy set, built like a tank, George took Andrew down as Robyn hit the concrete, hard. It took the last strength that she had to keep her head from hitting the ground. She then lost track of Andrew as her attention was taken by the second man coming out of the darkened doorway. David Rowe stepped out with a wicked looking, oversized, spanner raised high above his head.

  Laid flat on her back, Robyn could hear the struggle between George and Andrew, but she couldn’t avert her gaze from David. She tried to get up, but David stood over her with his makeshift club. She turned to the fight.

  In the shadows, Andrew and George rolled on the ground. She could hear punches when they struck and grunts and groans but all she could see was a mass of errant legs and limbs that she couldn’t assign to a particular body.

  George called out, a pained cry, making David turn to assist. He stepped to the two men, holding his spanner high, no doubt intent on helping his friend.

  Wasting no time, Robyn got up. She couldn’t let David get to Andrew and use that weapon. She had to take him down somehow and give Andrew a fighting chance against George.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t get to take a step, for as soon as she stood upright a fist grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and shoved what she knew to be the stun gun into her neck.

  “Stay out of it,” Jane whispered in her ear, “I want to watch this and you will not get in the way.”

  Robyn hadn’t looked to see if anyone else had been hiding in the shack. She hadn’t thought that three people could fit in there, but Jane had lain in wait, biding her time. She now had Robyn caught by a thin arm and the threat of electricity pulsing through her skin. Robyn stood stiff in her grasp and watched helplessly as Andrew fought George.

  “I like to watch them fight, to attempt to live. It’s thrilling don’t you think?” It was like listening to a toddler, but her joyous and innocent tone was a lie.

  “Do you really want to know what I think?” Robyn tried to turn to face her but Jane pressed the prongs of the stun gun hard against her skin. Grimacing, Robyn finished. “I think you’re one brick short of a load! Fucking nuts!” Her temper surged, she couldn’t help it but it was better than the immobility of fear.

  Jane laughed, loud and deep in Robyn’s ear. “Christ teachers are a meddling bunch, all of you. I’m going to like watching you die.”

  Links suddenly formed in Robyn’s brain. “Mr Maine?” The history teacher Andrew had taken over from, the one who had been killed in a car accident.

  She giggled, “He actually phoned the hospital to check on a pupil, fool. We couldn’t have him investigating why she wasn’t taken to be checked over now could we?”

  Christ, he’d been killed because he cared. “You caused the crash.” They’d done something to the car to make it catch fire as well no doubt.

  “It was easy really. He was going way too fast. You should have seen him.” She giggled.

  “How will you explain my disappearance? I’m not in a car.” Rage was bubbling but it kept her coherent. She needed the anger to give her strength. All she needed now was opportunity.

  “Oh, poor Robyn. You? Well, you’ll commit suicide, won’t you?”

  Robyn tried to wrestle from Jane’s grip but she was stronger than she looked and the threat of the stun gun didn’t help.

  “Poor little Robyn. Parents dead, best friend gone. I mean you’ve been acting so strangely of late haven’t you, and with your history, well, it’s all gotten to be too much.”

  Jane’s voice stabbed each word into Robyn and she could see the easy truth of it, the facts giving evidence to support the story. Sanger’s access to her medical records had given them all the information they needed to make her suicide plausible.

  “That wouldn’t explain the wounds from the harvesting needle.” She spoke, as she gently backed Jane towards the wall of the shack behind them.

  “Oh, I think your suicide will be too messy to find those. Perhaps a drive into a wall. You like that little car so and everybody knows how you drive. It would probably catch fire too, the speed you like to go.” Damn that karting trip. “Or maybe you would swan dive off of the cliff. The rocks would batter you enough to cover the entry sites and your body could be in the water a long time before it’s found.”

  Robyn watched desperately as David sidestepped left, then right. He was trying to get a clear shot at Andrew but the two men on the ground moved so quickly that he couldn’t find it. With a sudden jerk, David brought down the spanner. It was nearly two foot long and clanged into the ground sending chips of concrete flying.

  “No,” Robyn screamed. There was little point keeping quiet now, they were caught.

  Jane rammed the prongs of the Taser into Robyn’s skin and she yelped. Sh
e could feel blood running down her neck but Jane hadn’t pulled the trigger, yet. Robyn took shallow breaths and used Jane’s momentary distraction to manoeuvre her further towards the wall.

  The fight continued and no-one came to interfere despite the noise. Not that Robyn wanted them to. She fully expected any people who intervened to be on their captor’s side. No-one in Porthmollek would be helping them. They were on their own.

  David lifted the spanner once again, intent on connecting with his target this time. As Robyn watched the heavy tool rise into the air, she knew time was running out.

  Simultaneously, Robyn snapped her head back and drove her right elbow backwards. Her head connected with Jane’s nose and she felt it give against the back of her skull. Robyn heard the snap of bone as it broke and then the thud as Jane’s head reared back and connected with the wall behind her. Before Jane could let out a scream and before she could press down on the button and stop Robyn with a jolt of electricity, Robyn’s elbow smashed into her stomach. Jane expelled air in a great puff and she doubled over in pain, dropping the stun gun. Robyn turned to see blood trickling down Jane’s nose as she held both arms across her stomach. Jane was struggling for breath but Robyn found no compassion. Jane only filled her with disgust. Robyn brought her right arm back and punched Jane, full force, in the face.

  Jane went down, sliding down the wall until she sat, ragdoll-like and unconscious.

  Turning, rage flowing through her veins, Robyn grabbed the stun gun off of the floor. David Rowe once again brought the spanner down. She was too late to stop the blow, but Andrew saw it coming and quickly moved his head from its path. Without hesitation, Robyn jumped onto David’s back and, before he could shrug her off, she drove the stun gun into the skin of his neck and pushed the trigger button. David jerked as the high voltage engulfed him. His back arched, throwing back his head on straining neck muscles and Robyn was thrown from his back as the spanner dropped from his hand.