by P L Kane
The man gave another nod, but if he’d heard the name before he gave no indication. Instead, he said: ‘My name is Daniel.’ That was it, no surname. Just Daniel. Not even Danny.
‘Right, well, pleased to meet you, Daniel.’ Mitch hedged his bets, nodding a hello to the others behind him who were forming a wall between them and the buildings. None of the group nodded back. If the villagers didn’t like their kind ‘trespassing’ on what they saw as their land, then it looked like the feeling was mutual. And for people who didn’t adhere to boundaries, they seemed pretty keen on protecting theirs.
‘You say this is about your father?’
‘Er, yes. He died, oh, about a week ago now. In suspicious circumstances.’
Daniel pursed his lips before asking, ‘What kind of suspicious circumstances?’
‘He burned to death in the woods.’
There was no shock, no surprise at this. Daniel simply nodded again. If he bloody well says it’s a nasty business, I won’t be responsible for my actions, thought Mitch, but the man remained silent. He had the air of a monk about him. One of those monks you see in movies who’ve taken a vow of pacifism, but could actually snap your neck like a twig. Definitely the air of a leader about him. That cult of personality he’d read about; could probably do with reading more about.
‘Do you mind if I ask you some questions?’ Mitch prompted.
‘That depends on what the questions are!’ came a voice from behind Daniel. Male, but Mitch couldn’t tell who’d spoken in the crowd.
Daniel turned. ‘James, please.’ There was a mumbling, but Mitch still couldn’t tell who it was – only that the tanned man had caused them to shut up. A woman joined Daniel now, about the same age as him – in her forties – and stood at his side. ‘This is my life partner, Leah.’
The woman, whose grey-black hair was tied back in a ponytail, nodded to Mitch. ‘You won’t find what you’re looking for here, Mitchel Prescott,’ she told him.
‘You seem pretty certain about that,’ he replied.
‘We don’t mean anyone any harm, in spite of what you might have heard elsewhere.’
‘And what might I have heard?’ That sometimes you guys make your way into the village, especially at night-time? Did you make your way into my dad’s place the other night?
She smiled, going for sweet but just coming off as creepy. ‘People fear what they do not understand. Always have.’
‘They look for scapegoats,’ Daniel added. ‘When they should look to their own.’ They weren’t wrong, the people in Green Acres were definitely afraid of newcomers, of change. Were searching for people to blame for the spate of crimes that were happening, if nothing else. Who was to say it wasn’t kids doing all that, people’s children? Brothers, cousins or whatever?
‘My dad was a journalist.’ Mitch almost said investigative journalist, which would have made him sound like someone from The Daily Planet. ‘He was poking around into a few things. One of them was this Commune.’
‘Why?’ asked Leah.
Mitch shrugged. ‘I was hoping you might be able to tell me.’
Both Daniel and his life partner looked blank. It was the latter who answered, perhaps the real power behind this throne? ‘I can’t think of a single reason. Unless it was to write about our unique lifestyle.’
‘Unique?’
‘We used to be like you people. Like you,’ Daniel corrected himself, probably because it made them sound like some sort of separate species to the rest of humankind. ‘Believe it or not, I used to be in telemarketing. A manager, no less.’ Mitch could definitely believe it, now he’d said it; could picture Daniel in that setting more easily than he fitted into this one. ‘My whole life was about deadlines, profits, hitting targets. I worked hard and I drove my workforce hard as well. Some of them even had breakdowns.’ He shook his head. ‘Can you imagine, being such a bas— Being someone who’d do that to another person?’ Mitch’s aunty wasn’t the only one who didn’t like swearing then, though Daniel still had to fight against the habit. It meant there was probably a religious aspect to this Commune as well, didn’t it? Or was that just a front? ‘I ignored my health, my family, ignored Leah.’ He looked to his left, smiling sadly; Leah smiled back. So she’d been his ‘wife’ back in the real world as well? ‘Then we had a revelation. Were shown a better way. A more humble way.’
‘The only way,’ said Leah, before quickly adding, ‘for us at least.’
‘So you went from pension schemes and portfolios to chickens and goats,’ said Mitch, barely able to conceal his smirk. A fad, nothing more – and they’d clearly managed to convince a bunch of other people to go along with them. Loyal followers by the looks of them. People who’d fight for their right to, as they’d called it, live their unique lives.
‘If you like,’ said Daniel, obviously not caring for the way Mitch had put it.
‘Shunning society.’
‘To be honest, society could do worse than take a leaf out of our book,’ stated Leah. ‘Maybe start again afresh.’
‘Right, yeah. And you put all your money …’ He looked behind the couple, meaning everyone present. ‘Into this endeavour?’
‘We obtained the land legally, yes,’ said Leah.
‘But not exactly welcomed with open arms, right? Into the lion’s den, Daniel?’ They weren’t the only ones who knew a bit about religion.
‘My namesake escaped that predicament because of his previous kindness, because he helped,’ said the tanned man. ‘We can only strive to be as kind as he was.’
‘Okay, okay. So you don’t know anything about my dad, about what might have happened to him?’ What had Mitch been expecting, someone to confess right there and then to setting him alight? Maybe he’d stumbled on a weird ritual here at the Commune and paid the price for it?
Leah shook her head emphatically. ‘No. Certainly not.’
‘But we are sorry for your loss,’ Daniel told him.
‘Thanks.’
‘We too have suffered losses of our own,’ said the tanned man.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Oh, I merely meant that we know what it is like.’
‘You’ve suffered … Are you talking about here? People going missing?’ asked Mitch, remembering what it had said in those reports about people disappearing. The abductions. He had no idea what it might have to do with this, but saw no harm in following that line of enquiry.
They exchanged looks, but said nothing.
‘Hey, if any of your Commune have gone missing since you’ve been here, you need to tell me,’ Mitch said, stepping forwards. He noticed the wall of people behind the pair move forward as well, and stopped.
‘I think perhaps you should look for answers to your questions somewhere else,’ Leah told him.
‘What, no tour of the place? Don’t they usually do that in situations like this, to prove they’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘Do they?’ said Daniel, but didn’t offer it as an option.
And wasn’t this the part where Mitch would say he’d be back with a warrant to search the place, except he had no idea how he’d obtain one of those. ‘Look, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of all this. Get things straightened out.’ But maybe that was something they really didn’t want him to do.
‘Good day, Mitchel Prescott,’ said Leah, extending her hand in the direction of the bike for him to leave.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Mitch, then waved a hand himself over to the side saying: ‘Nice fire you’ve got going there, by the way. You guys like fire, do you?’ A couple of the Commune members stepped forward threateningly, and Mitch turned away. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going, I’m going.’ Then thought to himself:
But don’t be surprised if I come back.
Chapter 15
‘So he hasn’t come back yet?’
What was this woman’s problem? ‘No, no he hasn’t. But then again I wasn’t really expecting him.’ And, to be honest, she thought, I’m not sure if I ever want to see
him again!
That wasn’t true. That would never be true. Of course Lucy wanted to see Mitch, she missed him like crazy. Had been worried sick when she couldn’t get hold of him on the phone, when no one had let her know what was happening. Not until that call the night before, another afterthought. A rushed and strained affair from a pub. A pub of all places! Where his aunty and uncle had taken him, spent the best part of the day with him. Wasn’t there just a bit of her that was jealous about that? Not to mention jealous of whatever else might have been going on after he’d hung up – yes, bloody well hung up! – on her.
What, was she worried he was making time with some local girl, having a roll in the hay or something? Wasn’t like she didn’t trust Mitch, it was more the other girls. Girls from his past, who still lived where he came from. People who might understand him better?
Bullshit. Mitch was a city boy, had been for a long time now. Since he got out of that place, went on the road, and finally settled in Downstone. With her. (Settled for her?) A city girl. Lucy had been raised here when all was said and done, had been waiting for Mitch all her life, had known as soon as she saw him that he was the one.
Except he’d hung up on her, hadn’t he? She didn’t know whether to be worried again or furious. To be honest, it was a bit of both.
Probably shouldn’t have said they needed some time apart then? She wished that she hadn’t now, didn’t even know where it had come from! One of those stupid things that come out when emotions were all over the shop. Of course she didn’t want that, she wanted him here. With her. Knew all the reasons why he had to go, why she had to stay, but – like him – was torn.
At the end of the day, she loved him. He was special, what they had was special … wasn’t it? To her anyway. She just wanted to look after him, and not in some stupid ’50s housewife kind of way. Just wanted to, needed to. Her feelings ran so deep.
All day long she’d been staring at papers, sitting at their kitchen table trying to force the letters, the information about the new syllabus next term to sink in. She couldn’t afford to waste days like this, just gazing at bullet points but not taking them in. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t been able to go with him herself (to keep an eye on him, eh?) because she had duties here. Had to stay here. But that didn’t mean she had to like it, imagining what might be going on all those miles away.
Who he might be with.
Jealous.
Whether he’d been in any more scraps. Jesus! Better than being on the front lines in a riot, at any rate. Her pacing the living room because she thought he might get stabbed or shot or—
You don’t have to worry about that anymore, though, do you? Now he’d been sacked. All right, quit before he was sacked for bad behaviour. Didn’t matter. That didn’t matter now, did it?
Lucy had thought about calling up Helen and Vince, getting more information about what was going on. They were the ones who’d been around, after all. Were … close to him. But she didn’t want to give Mitch the idea she was checking up on him. Clingy, just sitting here thinking about him, when of course she was spending all her time … sitting here thinking about him.
Only, come the morning when she still hadn’t heard anything, she’d done exactly that. Rung up the number she had for them, tried to get through, except an annoying electronic voice kept telling her they were having trouble connecting. No shit. Her and Mitch were having the worst time imaginable trying to connect. Although had it been any better when he’d been at home?
So, after not being able to get through, staring at those papers – the text swimming on the pages – caving and hitting the wine in the cupboard, the last thing she’d needed in the world was a call from Mitch’s sister, Bella.
‘D-Do you know when he’ll be coming back?’ she asked next.
‘No. No, I don’t.’
‘When are you expecting him?’
Lucy closed her eyes and opened them again slowly. ‘I’m not. Not yet. He hasn’t told me, Bella. What’s all this about anyway?’
‘I really feel like I should speak to him. And I can’t get through on the old house number. I-I just need to talk to him. It’s important.’
‘Oh, now it’s important to speak to him, is it?’ The words were out before Lucy could prevent them. The accusation out as well. You abandoned him. Again. Useless woman, Lucy really couldn’t stand her.
‘No, well I-I just … I’m sorry I couldn’t go with him, if that’s the …’ Your words, not mine, thought Lucy. ‘It’s difficult for me, I—’ She sighed down the line, or was she crying? ‘I just have this horrible feeling, like he’s in trouble or something. I mean, I can’t really rely on it or anything, but I think that—’
‘Bella, I don’t know what to tell you. He’s not here. I haven’t heard from him in nearly a day.’
‘And what did he say then?’ she persisted. Cheeky bitch!
Lucy folded one arm over her chest as she replied. ‘If you must know, they’d … he’d had a break-in at the house.’
Silence. Then, in a weak voice: ‘A break-in?’
‘That’s what I said, yes. Unfortunately, we got cut off before he could tell me any more.’ Lucy didn’t want to give this woman any hint that Mitch might have hung up on her, that they might have argued. Again.
‘A break-in,’ Bella repeated. She sounded really strange now.
‘Listen, I’m really busy today, getting ready for the new school year. Maybe you could—’
‘Yes,’ said Bella, her voice growing stronger. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry to have troubled you, Lucy.’ She hung up without even saying goodbye, leaving Lucy to gape at the phone, calling her all kinds of names under the sun. Wondering just what that woman’s problem really was.
Chapter 16
What exactly was their problem, what were they hiding?
On the surface they seemed harmless enough, had just wanted to leave all the stresses of the rat race behind them, live a simpler life – so they said. Stay out of people’s way, keep their heads down and live off the land. But something was going on behind the scenes, Mitch was certain of it. Maybe they were producing more than just vegetables there, a front for something criminal?
And that talk of losses? Had members of the Commune been taken? he wondered. If so, had they come back again or were they gone for good? Had they even bothered to report it to the police – and could Mitch really blame them if they hadn’t? Wilkinson was absolutely useless.
So, what if they’d decided to take the law into their own hands? An eye for an eye, wasn’t that what the Bible said? You take one of ours, we set fire to one of yours? Perhaps even his father. Didn’t mean Thomas Prescott was involved in anything; just happened to be wandering around in the wrong place at the wrong time – not really knowing where the hell he was. Or had they mistaken that for snooping into their business, thought the old man might have seen something he hadn’t? And he’d just bloody well confirmed as much to them, that his father was looking into their ‘unique lifestyle’.
Had Mitch just put a target on his own back? Or maybe it had been members of the Commune who’d broken in the other night, ahead of all this, wanting to trash anything they thought his dad might have compiled on them? Indeed, now he thought about it, hadn’t he spied a couple of members of that cult wearing caps? Not unusual, it had been quite sunny. Just a coincidence? Changed out of whatever dark clothes they’d been wearing – cream was no good for breaking and entering at night – but forgot the caps? Or just didn’t give a shit?
Something fishy was going on here, so fishy Cat would be curling round his legs in anticipation of eating it. Mitch just didn’t know what it was – yet. He didn’t need that weird spider-sense of his, which seemed to be on a bit of a go-slow itself, to work out something was amiss.
Thinking about it all, as he sat on his bike on a quiet stretch of land and ate his sandwiches, reminded him about his next stop on this long day of his. The place he needed to visit afterwards, and indeed set off for on his bike
once he’d washed the bread and cheese down with water from the fridge he’d also brought with him. But once he got a bit closer he realised he wouldn’t be able to get to the exact spot on that particular mode of transportation. Not with all those trees.
So he’d been forced to leave it – against his better judgement – on the outskirts of the woods, at the treeline, tucked away behind the trunk of one and hidden as best as he could. Had to believe that in such an isolated spot no one would see it, let alone steal the thing. It’d probably be safer than round the back of his house actually, but Mitch had locked the motorbike up anyway just to be on the safe side. It was a habit he’d got into in the city anyway, and definitely needed to keep up with here in Green Acres. He wasn’t about to lug the helmet in there with him, though, so had to leave that hanging from the handlebars.
The woods looked quite dark, so Mitch was glad that he’d brought along the small torch that lived on the back of the bike. The number of times he’d had to fix the machine, or even a tyre, while he’d been out in the middle of nowhere had taught him to be prepared. However, as he entered he found that it was lighter inside than it appeared – so he tucked the torch away in his jacket pocket for now.
Mitch hadn’t brought a map, it would do him no good anyway – just show an area of woodland – but he was confident that he could find the spot he was looking for easily enough working from memory. Sadly, it wasn’t long before he was completely lost, one bit of the woods looking very much like another around these parts.
Then he spotted it, something that marked the exact location. Wilkinson had at least done that, cordoned off the area with blue and white tape; wrapped around three or four trees, creating a perimeter of sorts. Mitch froze when he saw it, unable to approach for a little while. Needing to screw up his courage, knowing that he had to see the place where his dad had met his horrific end.