Winter Falls

by Eddie Skelson

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Peake made his way to the hotel he had no expectation of finding them there. The moment he had discovered Duggan he realised that he had been betrayed. His lieutenant’s throat had been cut from ear to ear but this was of no importance other than to prove that either his daughter or the lad had the ruthlessness to dispatch a defenceless man, regardless of how dangerous Billy was when not trussed up like a hog.

  He didn’t think that Clarke had the spine for that kind of work so it was most likely Melanie. The fact that Billy’s sigil had been flayed from his arm further underlined her involvement. She meant to leave the town and the government was her ticket out. With Billy’s sigil she could do it too. Just walk right out the fucking town, except she wouldn’t be walking would she. If she had Clarke under her spell he would be trying to drive them out. Macgregor would take care of that.

  There was no chance that anything other than a snow plough could make it on the road out of the Falls and even that was doubtful. He looked down at Billy and the deep ragged trench that almost separated his head from his body. He was no longer concerned about the Government man. He was as good as dead already. What was important now was that he stop her from escaping the town.

  The men behind him shuffled as they tried to peer over Peake’s shoulder and catch sight of Billy. As Peake turned to face them they stepped back as one.

  ‘We’re returning to the lodge.’ He said and led them out of the house.

  It was as they reached the end of the path that the sound of gunfire echoed across the town. Macgregor and his men were armed with shotguns and hunting rifles and there was no mistaking the sound of automatic fire, not the reports of the weapons his men were carrying bursting through the air. Something was happening out there that was not in his script.

  Peake’s lips pulled back from his teeth, he almost snarled.

  ‘Quickly!’ He snapped and strode off back towards the lodge. The others followed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once Kevin was satisfied that every man was armed and that they all carried enough ammunition to reload their weapons at least twice he had them file up onto the back of the truck that Tim had parked outside The Silent Piper. The vehicle was an old but sturdy Leyland and the front had an impressive plough fixed to it. Although the flatbed was sizable the men were mostly stocky and bunched up on the narrow shelves that passed for seating on either side. There was a strong canvas fixed to a frame that protected the men from the wind and snow but it couldn’t stop the cold.

  They talked in low voices and flasks with potent contents were passed around between them which helped to combat the chill. Once they were all settled Kevin gave those that looked at him with concerned eyes a nod to indicate that he shared that concern but also that this had to be done. He moved to the cab and climbed inside, glad to be out of the snow which was blowing hard.

  ‘This is going to be a hell of a ride Kev.’ Tim said

  ‘Aye, I imagine it is.’ Kevin replied, his tone neutral and his expression offering no opinion. Tim waited for a few seconds in case his friend added anything to that but Kevin said nothing and stared passively out into the blizzard ahead. Tim flicked the Leyland’s headlights to full beam and pressed the accelerator. The truck shuddered a little, as though it was waking up in the cold, and began to push through the snow with ease. Her engine was loud and growled as it powered the huge wheels. The Leyland was well travelled on roads and nights like this.

  Tim guided her through the tight roads as though it was a dry summer’s day. He could navigate the journey with his eyes shut as far as Dunbannon where the land began to sweep up into the hills that enclosed much of the coastal region and to where Winter Falls was nestled beyond Ardach Coille. The road past Dunbannon was a mystery to him though. He had never attempted to go any further on that route and had thought that he never would.

  He wanted to ask Kevin how he was going to find the road that led to Winter Falls. No one had ever found their way there, at least no one that had ever returned to talk about it. But Kevin was still silent. He decided to drive until Kevin told him to do otherwise.

  Kevin didn’t speak until they reached the Cenotaph. Tim hadn’t realised that they were so close to it as after passing Dunbannon he had been required to concentrate more on the lay of the unfamiliar road ahead. It was a blessing that the wind at least had begun to drop and he could now see the twists and turns a little more clearly.

  ‘Hold here Tim.’ Kevin finally said and Tim immediately eased off the accelerator to bring the Leyland to a safe stop. Kevin unbuttoned his jacket and reached inside it. He withdrew a small padded envelope and lifted the flap which didn’t appear to have been sealed.

  ‘What do ya have there?’ Tim enquired.

  ‘I think it’s a key Tim.’ At this he pulled out what looked like a folded piece of paper until he opened it up and Tim could see that it was made of either stiff cloth or some sort of old parchment. He reached up and turned on the interior light of the cab.

  ‘A key ya say? Tim said craning his head to try and get a better look at the strange paper. ‘Looks like a drawing’

  ‘Aye, it is a drawing, but I think it’s more than just that.’ Kevin now turned to face Tim ‘Ya remember those lads that came by a few weeks ago’

  ‘The Swedish lads?’ Tim asked.

  ‘They were Norwegian but aye, those two. They were headin to the Falls they said. Said they had business there.’

  ‘Oh, not tourists then? I thought they were tourists. They asked me some questions about the place but, well you know, I told em there was nothing out there now, best to head over to Lochniver.’ Tim looked a little concerned, as though worried that he had not done his civic duty.

  ‘No Tim, those lads weren’t tourists and don’t worry, they knew what they were doing or at least they seemed to think they did. We got to talking, we talked about the villages that are gone now, about the missing people and we talked about the town that no one could find and they told me they knew how to find it.’

  Kevin lifted the paper up to the light and turned it so that Tim could see the symbol that was imprinted upon it. ‘They gave me this. They said that they were going to take a look around and that if they didn’t come back in a few days that I was to call a number one of em, the big fella with the beard, wrote down for me. They said that people would come and that I was to give em this,’ Kevin waggled the page a little. ‘Said that it would help them find the town.’

  The picture, that appeared to be burned on to the page somehow, looked to be a spiral with a line running through it.

  ‘I’m no following Kev, is that a map o’ some sort?’

  Kevin shook his head ‘No mate, like I said I think it’s some sort of key. The lad Joe had a letter from there with the same mark on it’ He brought the letter back and placed it on his lap, pressing it flat. ‘And those weird bastards that come from the town to buy stock from the village, I’ve seen this same thing on them, when their sleeves have ridden up I’ve seen it on their arms.’

  ‘Like a password then,’ Tim said, ‘Like a secret code’.

  ‘Maybe it’s something like that.’ He said. ‘Anyway, how many times have you driven past this Cenotaph?’

  ‘Oh...I don’t know,’ Tim replied. ‘A few times I suppose, a long time ago. I try not to come out this far.’

  ‘Aye.’ Kevin said, nodding. ‘That’s understandable, but tell me now have you ever seen that turning up ahead?

  Tim looked at Kevin in puzzlement for a moment and then his own eyes turned to where his friends gaze appeared to be focused. To his absolute surprise, barely visible in the headlights that were invaded by swirling snow was a junction. A road that went off from this one and lead off he supposed towards the Ardach Coille.

  ‘Fuck me.’ Tim said. ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’

  ‘I think it’s always been there mate.’ Kevin said. ‘Let’s get going.’

  Chapter Nineteen

 
; Joe’s biggest concern about his escape plan, accepting they had actually got to the boat had been that the sea would be so rough he would be unable to avoid being thrown on to the rocks around the cliffs, and thus smashed to a pulp. He hadn’t considered the sheer freezing cold that now clung about him.

  His powerful rowing strokes had kept him warm at first but after the jetty had begun to retreat from sight it was as though any heat there had been inside him had left his body. His hands felt frozen to the oars and he didn’t think he would be able to easily release his grip on them. His teeth chattered and there was a dull ache in his legs and feet.

  He had tried to talk to Melanie, who didn’t seem to be affected by the arctic conditions at all but found that it was too difficult to breathe and make intelligible words at the same time. He was so cold that he had stopped worrying about the sound of the waves breaking over nearby rocks, which he tried to keep to his right so that he could be certain of staying on the coastline. One thing he was certain of was that if the boat tipped and he hit the water he was dead.

  But this aside they were escaping. The wind was now only an occasional bluster and the snow was rapidly thinning. Even with the numbness of his hands and the slow paralysis of his legs he was rowing with strength and speed. His estimate of how far he would have to row to get to a suitable place to put ashore was nothing but pure guesswork but he figured that no more than thirty minutes of hugging the coast would take him far enough from Winter Falls to continue the journey on foot. He almost managed to smile at the thought. And then he saw Melanie do a strange thing.

  She had been looking back towards where the town would be if it were visible in the dark and were the snow not obstructing the view for most the trip so far. Then he noticed her lean forward a little. Her head was lifted almost as though she was sniffing the air, her eyes narrowed. She then took off one of her gloves and reached over the side of the boat and allowed her hand to move through the water.

  He wanted to exclaim, ‘What the fuck are you doing Mel, the water is fucking freezing!’ But all he could manage to say was ‘The fuck?’

  She appeared to ignore him, her attention at least was elsewhere until she suddenly looked directly at him and shouted, ‘Put to shore Joe, NOW!’

  Joe blinked at her as though he couldn’t make out what she meant. She couldn’t mean what she had said, or what he thought she had said, because it would be suicide to row the boat towards the cliffs. He wasn’t even sure that he would be able to control the boat nearer the shore when the time came with the force of the waves easily besting his diminishing strength. He was too cold now. He only hoped that the tide would carry them onto a beach, preferably a beach of sand and not bone breaking rocks.

  Melanie stood and ran her hand through her hair. Joe could see that she was thinking hard. He said nothing and continued to row, more carefully so as not to unbalance her. She didn’t repeat her command to head to the shore, instead, to his absolute shock, she began unbuttoning her jacket and then shrugged it off. Following this she quickly pulled off her sweater and that too was dropped onto the floor of the boat.

  Joe stopped rowing. ‘Mel, what the fuck are you doing?’ He gasped, barely getting the words out through chattering teeth. Melanie remained silent and continued to remove her clothing. Her breasts bulged a little within the lace bra she wore. Joe didn’t feel any arousal although he would have welcomed the heat. She sat and began to remove her boots.

  ‘Mel...’ Joe tried to bring the oars in so that he could go to her but his fingers were fixed on to the wood, his muscles refusing to unlock.

  ‘Don’t Joe.’ Melanie said, as though he had tried to offer an unwanted kiss. She pulled off her final boot, the socks she had worn had come off with them. She then artfully slipped out of her jeans. She was naked all but for her panties and bra.

  She stood again and reached down for her coat, tugging something out of one of the pockets. It looked like a thick cloth and when Melanie opened it out flat Joe could see that it was patterned on one side. Melanie tossed it to him and it landed on his lap.

  ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful Joe, you gave it your best shot.’ Melanie said. She stepped forward and knelt in front of him. Her breath was warm on his face. She appeared to be completely unaffected by the terrific cold, her face was ruddy rather than the tinge of blue that coloured Joes cheeks.

  ‘My turn now.’ She said

  As Joe tried to speak again Melanie took the back of his head in her hand and pulled it to her. She kissed him hard on the mouth. Her touch was cool but not cold. Joe couldn’t stop tears running from his eyes, the heat of her causing him mild discomfort. Melanie pulled away and stood again.

  ‘Try to stay alive for a while and if you manage to somehow make it to the shore that will get you out.’ She pointed to the cloth on his lap, and then, as though stripping to her underwear had not been surprise enough Melanie turned and dived gracefully into the sea.

  Joe’s eyes goggled. Finally finding some strength and flexibility in his frozen limbs he lurched to where she had been and looked over the edge of the boat and into the black swell of the ocean.

  ‘Melanie!’ He shouted, his voice was cracked but he still screamed out her name as he desperately looked into the dark around him.

  ‘What the fuck?’ He said, abjectly confused. With effort he stood in the boat but couldn’t keep his balance. Melanie had managed to strip with ease and yet Joe found that he could barely stand for more than a few seconds before the motion of the waves forced him to sit.

  He was glad that he had sat down for shortly afterwards the boat lurched violently. The wind hadn’t changed that he had noticed and he thought for a moment that a sudden squall or current had tugged at the boat. He realised that he was moving, quite rapidly, back in the direction he had just come from.

  He shook his head as though to shake up his thoughts. Quickly he took his position once again and began to row to counter what must be a tidal current. The boat continued to move forwards, back towards the town.

  ‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ Joe grunted and hauled at the oars using all of his remaining strength. The paddles splashed at the sea with each furious motion but the boat continued on its unwanted course. It was now moving faster towards the town with him fighting against it than it had been when Joe had been rowing away from the place.

  He let go of the oars and they swung back, hanging uselessly in the water. The boat continued to move forwards at speed. He looked around for whatever Melanie had thrown, the patterned thing. It must have fallen into the water that pooled at the bottom of the boat as he had stood. Joe stretched out a shaking hand to try and find it but the cold water was too much for him and he withdrew it.

  Very soon the lights of the jetty came into view and shortly after that Joe could make out figures standing on the edge of it. Waiting for him to return. What Melanie had said about the rituals, about magic and spells started to seem less like ignorant superstition. Was it magic that was propelling the boat back to the town? A spell of some kind?

  He remembered the pistol.

  He felt its weight against his chest. Deep inside the chill of his fear a small spark ignited at the thought of the gun. He would shoot Peake, perhaps with him shot, hopefully dead, the crowd would run for cover. He would have to shoot Macgregor too, he had no problem with that, in fact if the giant policeman was there he would shoot him first and then Peake. Then he would take a hostage or even just run, they would be panicked so he could probably just blitz through them, brandishing the gun, shouting ‘GET THE FUCK DOWN! MOVE AND I’LL FUCKING SHOOT YOU!’

  It was a plan at least.

  His shaking hand retrieved the pistol and then pulled bullets out from his other pocket. His hands shook so badly that a couple of them immediately fell into the water at the bottom of the boat. He ignored them. He still had enough to load the gun. He repeatedly blew on his fingers so that he could manipulate the little brass shells. When the last bullet was chambered he snapped the pisto
l shit and checked the safety catch was off. He had seen enough movies to not fuck that up.

  He flicked the little lever down. ‘Ready.’ He said.

  He wouldn’t let them see it until he was close enough, until the boat was almost at the jetty. If he was too close they might hit him with a pole, throw a net or even shoot him with their own guns so he would wait until he could see Peake and Macgregor and then blow them away. He put his hands into his pockets and his right thumb cocked the hammer back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Macgregor had been suspicious of the abandoned Nissan as soon as he had seen it, and Joe’s escape into the forest seemed foolhardy but had already decided that the boy was half-witted and chose to see where the tracks took him.

  It was probable that the vehicle wouldn’t have gotten any further than another mile but that would have been a mile less on foot. He supposed that the forest might also offer some cover for him and girl but as his men all had strong torches that wasn’t going to help them too much.

  He instructed his men to head into the tree line and to be careful not to disturb the tracks. Once inside it became case of following the disturbed snow. They had clearly tried to hide their path by crossing over brambles. Morons. They would soon be in his sights. But when the tracks abruptly stopped Macgregor immediately knew that he had been duped.

  ‘Fuckers’! He said.

  Macgregor stood over the final footprints that had been left in the drift. He shone his torch into these and then at those that preceded them. A closer look revealed that there were footprints inside, facing the opposite way.

  ‘Little fuckers.’ he growled.

  His men stood around him looking confused.

  ‘Which way they go?’ One of them asked, still looking around for more prints.