The Watchers

by A. M. Shine

  ‘You’re certainly young and able enough to climb a few trees should our next meal depend on it,’ she had said to Ciara. ‘Besides, you’re bound to lose some of that puppy fat eventually.’

  Daniel had his head lowered, willing Madeline to stop; wishing that he had the courage to stand up to her. Maybe he was a coward after all. He had run away from his father and given half a chance he would run away from Madeline, too, taking Ciara with him. It didn’t matter where they went, so long as it was far away, where nobody knew what a failure he was and how he couldn’t catch some stupid birds, even when Ciara’s stomach ached from hunger. Madeline explained how to set the traps again. How many times had she gone through those simple steps? Talking down to him as though she were house-training a dog. He always tried his best, but the birds were smarter than Madeline gave them credit for. They knew better than to fly too close to the woodland. They knew what was down there.

  ‘Do you understand now, Daniel?’ she had asked him, placing her hand tight on his shoulder, watching him flinch from her touch. ‘If you don’t ask me any questions, you’ll never get any answers, and then you’ll never learn. Do you want to starve to death? And Ciara, too?’

  ‘I got it,’ he replied. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do better next time. I promise.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  The winter nights were long and uneasy. There was nothing for anyone to do; nothing to distract them from their reality. Maybe, in that sense, the reflective glass was a blessing. Their doppelgangers stood guard tirelessly, calling for their attention whenever their thoughts drifted towards that which watched them from behind the mirror.

  Daniel and Ciara had sat together with Mina’s parrot perched between them, both drawn to this new pet to take care of when they themselves were barely holding on. Nothing Daniel could say would soothe her sorrow – the last gift her husband had given her – and so he said nothing, offering only a sad smile whenever their eyes met.

  John had journeyed on foot as far as he could, always returning to the coop before lights on, to Ciara’s side. He had explored all points of the compass, and each time came back dejected. The woodland was enormous, so wild and overgrown that to range the shortest distance took hours. His only choice was to not turn back, to keep on going, and hope that he could outrace the watchers’ reach. It would be four days that morning since he left. Daniel harboured the hope that he was running still, and that he would someday return with an army behind him, burning every tree to cinders and pouring hot oil into all those pits.

  Ciara was the big sister he never had; kind and sweet-tempered. He hated the way Madeline spoke to her. It twined his stomach, and made his heart beat so loud that he was worried she could hear it. But she was in charge. Madeline kept them safe and he had no choice but to follow her instructions. He cried occasionally when he least expected it. Those sudden bursts of tears, like a pipe exploding behind his eyes. He made sure nobody saw, but he guessed that Ciara knew. It was the same when his father used to hit him. Only after the bruise rose in a bump or when the blood was sealed with a plaster would the tears come, always where the old man wouldn’t hear him. Crying wasn’t allowed in that house. Neither was happiness.

  Madeline held all the keys, and she had threatened to lock him outside if he didn’t do as he was told. Scary as it was, he believed her. She wouldn’t hesitate for a second. Daniel felt like an unwanted stray, running from house to house, looking for a home but finding only more of the same – cruelty and shame, and that gnawing suspicion that nobody would ever want him.

  Mina seemed nice. She was beautiful too. Even though she was much older than he was. And she had actually stood up to Madeline. That was a first for any of them, but probably not the shrewdest move. Daniel had considered warning her about the possibility of being locked outside, but if Madeline found out, then he was as good as dead. It was exhausting, being scared all the time.

  The earth in winter was solid as the cement. Would it be warmer underground if that’s where he ended up? How long would he suffer before his body was bled dry and the watchers’ screams eulogised his short, insignificant life? Hopefully, it would be quick. At least then he wouldn’t be scared anymore.

  Stepping outside was never easy, especially when that low fog brooded over the earth. It clung to Daniel’s jeans, steeped through the denim and under his skin, squeezing the bones with its icy hands. He tugged the zip of his jacket up to his neck. The cold was already soaking into his lungs. His breath gathered around him like steam fresh from a spout. He hadn’t lifted a foot off the cement yet and he was rubbing his hands together, trying to rekindle some feeling in his fingers. He had no choice but to go out. Madeline made sure of that.

  ‘Are you checking the traps?’ Ciara asked him from down the corridor.

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied, blowing air into his cupped hands. ‘It’s fucking freezing. Make sure you wrap up if you’re going outside. I shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully the old traps have caught something. I think I set them right, but I’m still getting the hang of it.’

  ‘Madeline wants me to forage us up some food, and fill this,’ she said, holding up the empty bottle. ‘I think we should let Mina sleep awhile longer.’

  ‘Good call,’ Daniel replied. ‘Get some rest yourself, too. I don’t think either of us slept last night.’

  ‘I think if Madeline catches me sleeping again, she’ll lock me outside.’ Ciara laughed, but Daniel couldn’t fake a smile.

  6

  Mina

  The coop was deserted when Mina woke up. Memories of the night before returned to her in broken fragments. For a brief, blissful moment before they assembled, she toyed with the thought that it had all been a dream. Then she heard the parrot fretting about in its cage like a child calling for attention, and the pieces fell into place. But the room wasn’t as she remembered it.

  The wall was now a window into the woodland. Gone were the reflections, and in their stead hung this lifeless painting, almost monochrome in its palette. The bird’s golden feathers seemed all the brighter because of it. He trilled excitedly when Mina cast off the blankets and faced the cold.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, stifling a yawn, and stretching some feeling back into her bones. The bedding’s stale mustiness had soaked into her hair and clothes, and even her socks felt damp.

  She held both hands over her face, fingers peeled apart as she looked around the room. Mina remembered running towards the light, and those screams that were so quick to surround her. It can’t be real. She rubbed her eyes, still stinging, and looked back to the window, seeing only the long scratches running through it. How long had she slept for? She had walked from dawn till dusk and must have passed out the moment she lay down. And where was everyone? It was so quiet. She shivered from the cold and brushed her hands together.

  ‘Jesus,’ she muttered, grinding her teeth, ‘this place is fucking freezing.’

  Mina smelt wood smoke. Through the doorframe, across from the coop, a fire had been raised. Its glow unfurled across the floor like warm carpet, inviting her to step inside. She held her hands over the flames and curled her cold toes up inside her boots, grateful for whoever was responsible.

  ‘Well, isn’t this lovely?’ she whispered, examining the living room for the first time.

  Dead leaves and dirt gathered in its corners, and the ground around her feet was pixelated with burns. The windows were high and held no glass. Even in the frail morning light she discerned the gashes around their frames. Mina took a step back from the fire when she saw the writing above it.

  ‘Stay in the light,’ she read aloud, just before the front door slammed.

  Please, don’t be Madeline, she thought with fingers crossed as the footsteps approached. It was too early in the day to be dealing with her. It was a habit of Mina’s to avoid humankind until at least the evening time, when a glass of wine was the social norm.

  ‘Oh,’ Madeline said, stopping in the doorway, ‘I see that you’re up.’
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br />   ‘Yup,’ Mina replied, not entirely sure how to act in the woman’s company. The word yup escaped her lips before she could stop it. ‘I was just admiring what you wrote on the wall.’ Again, she regretted opening her mouth. This is the reason why I don’t talk to people.

  ‘I didn’t write that,’ she said, indifferent to Mina’s play at humour. ‘It was there when I got here, and they are words to be heeded, Mina, not admired. They saved my life like I saved yours.’

  She moved up beside Mina, shuffling her feet so that they chafed across the cement. Madeline made no attempt to speak. Those long arms extended towards the warmth; mere skin and bone, so slender that they made her large hands look all the ghastlier. Mina tried not to stare at them but the eyes of an artist are easily led by curious things.

  ‘Did you light the fire?’ she asked, to which Madeline replied that she had, succinctly and without embellishment, as was to be expected.

  Mina had so many questions wrestling on the tip of her tongue. Was now the time? The building itself was an architectural mystery, and Mina had yet to see a bathroom. That fact alone was as grim as Madeline’s cryptic warnings of things in the dark. Things which, Mina reminded herself, she had yet to see. For all she knew this was some sadistic attempt at a reality show, with a nation of viewers in the comfort of their homes mocking the gullible girl with the parrot who believed it was all so real. How could she ever set foot in the pub again? What if Peter was in on the joke?

  ‘I want to explain to you how this is going to work, Mina,’ Madeline said, snapping her back to the moment. ‘An extra body can be a burden, as I’m sure you understand. We will need more food and more water. But if you make yourself useful, if you help rather than hinder, then our lives here can be less arduous. I only hope that you’re cleverer than the other two.’

  ‘They don’t seem so bad,’ she replied.

  ‘Not so bad?’ she echoed, her long neck twisting so that her eyes met Mina’s. ‘You do not survive here because you are friendly, idiotic and naïve. You survive if you are strict and abide by the rules. Being nice won’t save your life, Mina. You’ll understand this soon enough. You’re lucky that you have me to guide you. When I found this place, I had no one. All I had was the writing on the wall.’

  Now was Mina’s chance. The conversation, if that’s what this was, had wended its way precisely to where she had hoped. She noticed that Madeline’s mouth had tensed, as though she was chewing over a thought that she refused to spit out. Mina had spent so much time studying people’s faces that no detail – however slight – escaped her.

  ‘How long have you been here?’ she asked.

  Madeline reached towards the pit and took out a long, spindly branch; scorched black and so damp that it survived when others had split. She poked around the embers, sending sparks flaring up into the air and flitting down like autumn leaves.

  ‘What date is it today?’ Madeline asked.

  ‘It’s the…’ Mina paused to think ‘…twelfth of December.’

  ‘And what year is it?’

  ‘It’s 2019,’ Mina replied, somewhat surprised by the question.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Madeline said, throwing the branch back onto the fire. ‘I’ve been here for two years and just over three months. Though, I must say, if I’m to be honest it feels much longer.’

  Mina froze at the thought of it. She looked to Madeline’s profile, skeletonised by the firelight, picturing how she might have been before the woodland became her world.

  ‘Have you family, Mina?’ she asked. ‘Is there anyone who might come looking for you?’

  Jennifer had probably tried to contact her again, even though she had said she wouldn’t. Despite the umpteen distractions of her perfect life she always made the time to call, but seldom would Mina answer. Their conversations only served to highlight her shortcomings, and she was already more than aware of those. Weeks could pass without them speaking.

  Mina’s father had withdrawn from life, like a shadow receding in the rising sun. Since her mother passed away, he had taken to the drink. They had been saving for years. Now all those numbers that made up their joint account – the ones her mother never spent on herself – would fund the man’s self-destruction, one bottle at a time, or else he would drink the well dry and die a thirsty wreck of a man beside it. She used to call him now and again, but more often than not he would cry over the phone, his tears washing through old scars, scalding them, too drunk to remember that they had even spoken.

  Mina kept no close friends, only acquaintances. Bar staff and regulars – people you can walk away from without saying goodbye. The landlord would receive his rent by direct debit. It wasn’t unlike her to hide away for extended spells to focus on her work. How long would pass before anyone realised that she was missing? Only Peter knew where she was going, and the general consensus deemed him a true-blue drunkard. No one believed a word he said, even when he enjoyed an hour or so of coherency.

  ‘There’s no one,’ Mina said. ‘No one is going to look for me.’

  ‘It’s for the best,’ Madeline replied. ‘Even if they knew your exact location, they would only make it as far as the woodland. You just about made it here before sundown. I often wonder how many don’t make it at all. How many people have walked into the forest and never walked out?’

  Mina heard the front door open. One of the longer chains rattled against its wood, and it closed ever so gently. Ciara could be heard humming to herself before she peered around the corner, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She carried a canvas bag, and the bottle that Mina had given to Madeline the night before had been replenished. Her hand was blue from holding it, probably not wanting to squash whatever berries she had found.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, smiling. ‘Madeline, you’re a lifesaver. It’s bitter out there today.’

  Ciara hurried over to the fireplace, and Mina moved aside to let her into the heat. Madeline didn’t budge an inch. She didn’t even acknowledge that Ciara had spoken.

  ‘We need wood,’ she said, her hands retreating under her blanket.

  ‘Can I just get warm first?’ Ciara asked, spoken like a child requesting permission. ‘It’s so cold.’

  ‘It’ll be colder if you don’t get the wood,’ Madeline replied. ‘And if we’re to cook the birds then we’ll need a good fire, unless you want to eat yours raw?’

  Mina looked to Ciara; subdued, her every part dithering from the cold. The faint firelight glossed her eyes, enriching their disbelief at Madeline’s optimism. It was obvious that she worried about Daniel deeply and dreaded the reception that awaited him should he return empty-handed again. Ciara was his silent champion. And whether she believed in his abilities or not, Mina could tell that she would sooner stand by his failures than beside Madeline’s long shadow.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, waving a hand almost through the flames, as though she was trying to take the longest one with her. ‘I’ll leave these bits and bobs in the coop and get going. We’ll have the fire nice and big for when Danny gets home with the birds.’

  Home, Ciara had said. The word sounded almost alien. Mina’s home was in the city. A canvas stood in her studio, untouched. She had forgotten to turn off the storage heaters to save on the electricity before she left. They only worked in the living room. The dampness would already be staking its claim on the corners of the bathroom ceiling. That half-bottle of wine on top of the fridge would be corked by now. She had forked her bit of pasta into the bin and left the plate unwashed in the sink. The sauce would be plastered onto it. She would have to steep it in boiling water and washing-up liquid. That was her home, in all its chaotic glory.

  ‘The days are too short to waste time,’ Madeline said once Ciara was gone. ‘Unless you tell them what to do, they won’t accomplish anything. She would have sat here beside the fire, watching it slowly die in front of her, never thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could do something about it.’

  ‘What was it like?’ Mina asked.

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nbsp; ‘What was what like?’

  ‘Being here on your own,’ she added quietly, as a branch cracked, spitting sparks towards their feet.

  Madeline pursed her lips again and stared at the last husk of wood fighting against the flames, overrun and defeated. All that time alone, hopelessly abandoned and forgotten. And yet she survived and had done so willingly.

  ‘One mouth to feed and one body to keep warm,’ she replied. ‘My life was never so simple.’

  ‘It must have been very lonely,’ Mina said, ‘having no one to talk to and no company during the night. I don’t think I could do it.’

  ‘You haven’t seen them, Mina.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

  ‘If you could only see how many of them are out there, behind the glass, watching us,’ Madeline replied. ‘How could I ever be lonely here?’

  7

  Daniel

  Daniel was sat cross-legged in front of the fire. He gently rocked back and forth, smiling to himself, like a child watching his favourite cartoon. Three branches had been pared down to slender spits and wedged between the walls that receded into the hearth. He was careful to turn each one, keeping the birds just out of the flame’s reach. Three was more than he had hoped for. Even with Mina amongst them, it would be the best meal they’d had for weeks.

  Madeline had been out when he returned from the traps. She seemed to be the only one with the free rein to do as she pleased. Mina was hovering by the fire when he practically slid into the doorway with the birds held aloft, beaming with a smile revealing every one of his crooked teeth.

  He went about the business of plucking the feathers and prepping the spits. Daniel had told Mina that there were no animals in the woodland, and so birds were their only option. But it was as though they knew to avoid the place, and so Daniel climbed the highest trees he could find. And there he set his traps to entice the hungriest travellers from the sky. Madeline had shown him how to tie a noose around the bags, to which he would set some berries or nuts as a lure. Its weight would cause the string to tighten around the trap, sealing the bird inside.