by Alan Norris
~ ~ ~
‘God damn the man!’ I swore as Rachel turned off the engine and we got out of the Peugeot.
‘He’s not back. I’m sure of it.’ I said as I opened the heavy wooden door.
‘What was that noise?’ said Rachel, turning away.
‘Sounded like a gunshot to me.’ I said.
‘That’s what I thought.’ she answered. ‘And there’s another. It doesn’t sound too far away.’
‘What’s the old fool done now?’ I prayed it wasn’t what I dreaded. ‘Come on, let’s go. Sounded as though it came from down there. The new forester’s pathway.’
‘Are you ok to go. You look awfully pale.’ asked Rachel.
‘I’ll be fine. I guess it’s worry. Lock up the car though, in case he gets here before us.’
It was warm under the trees as we trotted along the well kept path, the fertile smell of the soil was mixed with that of pines and cut timber, a clean, almost intoxicating scent. Up ahead we could see a clearing where the trees had been cleared for logs and timber. A welcome cool breeze came across the cleared ground, I reached my hand into a spring to pat the cool water around my neck. Rachel, eyes like a kestrel, spotted a strip of aspirin tablets.
‘They’ll be Dad’s I’ll bet. They’re a supermarket special, see, got Tesco’s name all over them. It’s where we used to get shopping back in the England.’
‘Then we’re going the right way. But let’s go very carefully, we don’t want to get hit by a stray shot. Or worse, surprise the stupid old sod. He’s likely to shoot first and ask questions later. And he’s a lousy shot.’
Around the area of the spring and tiny stream, we could clearly see marks in the sandy soil where there seemed to have been a scuffle and then some footprints where someone had run away with long powerful strides.
‘That’ll be William...your Dad.’ I said, thinking aloud.
‘There’s a cartridge case over there.’ said Rachel, picking it up. ‘It’s been fired and smells as though it wasn’t long ago.’
‘I can put a stop this nonsense. Come on.’ I said angrily. ‘At least we know where they went. I’m sure....Positive, that it’ll be William and old Gerard.’
We moved off at an easy jog down the curving track. I knew that the box of medication in Rachel’s car would turn the half-crazy old man into an easily led puppy. He needed and was addicted to the powerful stuff his doc had given me for him. We just needed to find him and lead him away to talk to the police.
The wound in my shoulder was feeling worse, painful from the jolting motion of our jogging-trot. It could even have started bleeding again, I thought. Flesh wound it may be, but it was tender and hurting.
‘Sorry Rachel, but I’m going to have to stop for a minute.’ I mumbled. ‘Just ‘til I get my breathe back. The shoulder’s not feeling too good just now.’ I said. ‘I feel a bit dizzy to. Maybe I’ll sit on the bank here and try tightening my sling a little.
‘That’s ok. You’ve been doing really well...Don’t think I could have kept going like you have.’ said Rachel. ‘Keep still a minute, I’ll have a look at the dressing.’
I shivered a bit with the thought of it being touched. But Rachel was very gentle as she eased my shirt back from the bandages and then retied my makeshift sling.
‘Hmm, it looks as though it’s been weeping a little.’ she said. ‘You’ll need to see a doc soon. Why don’t you have a few minutes rest just here. I’ll trot down to the next bend, it’s only a few metres away, take a look and come back. Everything seems awfully quiet...they could be a mile away.’
‘I think I should take a minute’s rest. But you come straight back, now.’ I told her.
~ ~ ~
The next sweeping bend in the old pathway was a bit farther than a few metres and it seemed to take me ages to get to it. But when I got there I saw that it wasn’t a corner like some of the others had been. It was a sweeping bend, so I had to go a good way along it to see down the next straight. I stopped to listen. It was very quiet.
Something moved in the bushes to my right. It just caught the corner of my eye. I dropped to a crouch on the opposite side of the track. But whatever it had been must have stopped too. Or maybe it was just a bit of breeze bringing down some leaves. Keeping low, I moved on a few more steps and stopped again. No sound, no sign of any movement. Must be the imagination playing tricks, I thought. I’m getting wound up, too tense, I told myself.
I could see along the pathway now and yet another bend was in sight, but so was the sunlit edge of the woodland. Just before the turn there was a movement in the bushes on the left-hand side and a figure rolled out of the undergrowth and sprinted away from me. I gasped with surprise.
‘Dad, don’t go. It’s me.’ I shouted as he rolled back into the undergrowth between the trees.
I started running towards him. Then I smelt it. Sweat that had probably been stale a week ago and an underlying fetid odour.
~ ~ ~
I pushed the arrow shafts into the quiver on my belt and stood up. What on earth was Rachel doing? How did she find me in this maze of tracks and trees? Behind her, I saw the poacher leap out of the woodland. He must have been hiding there to catch me. He knew what I was going to do. If Rachel hadn’t arrived, I’d be splattered across the grass by now.
I wanted to shout to her to run. But I knew if I did that he’d take a shot with his gun. I tried to add up the number of shots that I’d heard, was it two or had there been three? He had a pump-gun so probably had a load of five rounds, but it could be eight.
‘Stand still Rachel. Do as he says.’ I shouted and started to walk towards them.
The poacher had moved quickly behind her and must have jabbed her in the back with the barrel of the gun. Rachel staggered forward. Quickly, she collected her wits and, with the swiftest of glances over her shoulder, she shifted her balance and her right leg shot backwards. Her heel aimed at his belly. He saw it coming and lowered his arms to block and cover his stomach. Rachel’s foot was right on target and drove the gun from his hands. As it left his fingers he must have snatched at the trigger and he fired another shot that luckily, went harmlessly into the treetops.
Rachel started to turn, but the poacher was quick. As she swung her leg down and started to pivot, he grabbed her jacket and pulled her backwards, crushing her towards him. His arm locked around her throat and I could hear her strangled breath as he lifted her almost off her feet. Rachel’s fingers raked at his wrist and hand drawing blood. She struggled to pull his arm away.
‘Leave her alone.’ I yelled as I strode towards them. ‘It’s me you want, let her go.’
‘Oh no, no. I think you’ll behave very well if I have your pretty daughter.’ he slackened his strangle hold slightly and let Rachel breathe.
She gasped, her face was red. ‘Let go of me, you asshole.’ she spat.
He changed his grip and his other hand came up with his hunting knife grasped in his fist. He put the blade against her throat.
‘Now missy, you are a feisty one, but let’s be very careful. Do just as I say and you’ll be ok.’ he slid his left arm down over her breasts. ‘If you don’t then Dad will get the next shot and then you and me’ll have some fun in the bushes.’ he laughed, an awful animal gurgling sound.
‘So it was you yesterday. You followed me....Bloody stinking pervert.’ Rachel swore.
He laughed again and slipped his hand inside her jacket, Rachel winced and slapped his bone thin hand away.
‘What now then old man?’ I asked, moving closer to them.
‘Stay back, go on, back up.’ he moved a couple of steps towards me, as though he’d push me away, ‘Put the bow down.’
As I reached to lay the bow down, I had another surprise. Marie was peeping around the trunk of a tree not far behind the poacher. She put her finger to her lips, but I didn’t need any encouragement to stay silent.
I glanced at the shotgun, it was now a metre or so behind him. If I could get him to move away a lit
tle farther, Marie would have a chance to maybe pick up the old man’s gun. There were no doubts that she knew how to use it. She was an exceptional markswoman, nearly always got maximum scores in competitions.
But how can I make the old devil move towards me. I must have thought about it for a fraction of a second, a half a heartbeat.
‘Well old man. I thought you had more guts. Find it a turn-on to fight with girls do you? Couldn’t manage to get it up like a man. You make me sick, you doddering old git.’
As I spoke I started edging towards him again, just a half-step at a time. His voice went shrill with his brewing temper and he moved toward me again. Two angry steps this time. He pulled his arm tight around Rachel’s throat. Her eyes opened wide, bulging.
‘I’ll show you who’s a man.’ he said. ‘First we’ll get rid of this piece of baggage then it’s your turn. I’ll blow your brains inside out. Just like you did to Jacques.’
‘Oh no you won’t.’ came Marie’s coldly determined voice from behind him. ’Let her go. Drop the knife.’ she’d pulled her left arm out of the sling and aimed at the back of the poacher’s head.
‘That’ll do you no good. There’s no shots left in it.’ he chuckled, sounding like a madman as he turned half-way towards Marie. ‘Come to say goodbye to your friends have you?’
Marie pumped a round into the gun ‘You fired four. This one’s yours. Do as I said. Now!’
I moved towards him closing the gap to almost grabbing range. But he saw me from the corner of his eye and swung back to half face me. His eyes looked wild, staring. With a shout, he caught Rachel’s arm and swung her at Marie. Marie instinctively lifted the barrel to safety an instant before Rachel cannoned into her. I jumped forward, reaching out to catch hold of the poacher’s greasy jacket, but it wasn’t fastened and he slipped out of it like a snake shedding its skin. And he was gone. Leaping through the short undergrowth and pushing his way between the saplings in some new planting.
I turned, picked Rachel up and pulled Marie’s trembling body against mine. We all turned to look at the swaying young trees that marked his escape.
‘How are you? Are you hurt?’ I asked Rachel. ‘I’ve a mind to give the old bastard a hiding for doing what he did.’
‘I’m ok, throat’s a bit sore that’s all...Really.’ she said, unconsciously rubbing her right breast. ‘The bastard pinched me.’
‘Marie, god but it’s good to see you!’ I kissed her cheek, letting my lips brush against hers. ‘Are you alright? I thought I’d never see you again.’
‘I’ll manage.’ she said. ‘Guess I’ve been better though.’
‘I’m going to have to go after him.’ I said. ‘I need his witness statement.’
‘Oh no you don’t.’ Rachel said hugging me tight. ‘We’ll, go after him.’
‘Too right.’ agreed Marie flipping the gun’s safety catch to on. ‘Let’s go.’
Chapter 25
The poacher was unarmed now so it would be a case of tracking his careless flight. William was about to lead the small band of hunters off in pursuit, when there was a terrible scream. The hairs stood up on the back of William’s neck.
~ ~ ~
It could of course be an attempt at ambush, I thought. But a scream like that would be difficult to fake. Eyes wide and every sense stretched like the bowstring in my hand, I moved across the track and into the woodland on the opposite side. Rachel and Marie followed.
The trees, once away from the pathway, were mostly young saplings about head-high. Their young branches blocked my view of the ground as they competed for light and space. Underfoot, the ground became rocky and several times, as careful as we were, a stumble sent small rocks skittering down the steepening slope.
I could hear a sort of moaning noise. It sounded kind of husky, more like a gasping. It was curiously echoey. Like it was coming from a tunnel.
‘It sounds as if it’s coming from over there.’ Rachel pointed farther down the slope almost dead ahead. She took a step toward the sound.
We could all hear the eerie moaning that was part gasp and part echo.
‘It’s Gerard.’ Marie said. ‘Sounds as though he’s fallen down a hole.’
‘Who’s Gerard?’ I asked.
‘We’ve got a lot to tell you. But not right now.’ said Rachel breathlessly. ‘The man you’ve been looking for, he isn’t a poacher, his name’s Gerard and he’s an acquaintance of Marie’s.’
Rachel turned my head to look at the injured side and tutted. ‘You both need a doc and so, I think, does old Gerard now.’ Rachel said, frowning. ‘Can you creep forward and see if you can spot him. His moaning seems to be getting weaker by the minute, and we need him to talk!’
Well it was a good job someone was thinking straight. My eyes and thoughts were on Marie. The man was called Gerard. Not a poacher. And Marie knew him? What on earth could be going on here?
Rachel prodded me, ‘Come on...Now.’ she sounded tired but resolute. ‘I’ll call the rescue services and Bertrand...Perhaps he can do something right at last.’
She pulled out her mobile phone and was already dialling as I moved away into the closely planted saplings.
‘Go careful William.’ called Marie. ‘I think there’s some old quarry workings somewhere near here.’ she said as she followed me down the slope.
I’d only gone about fifteen metres, about twenty careful steps, down the stony slope when the planting suddenly finished and a ragged vertical rock face fell almost from the toe of my boot.
It looked like an old granite quarry, about ten metres deep just here, but a lot deeper farther round to my left. At the bottom of the deepest part was a small lake of brackish looking water, but just here, boulders were crowded into a narrow cutting and nesting on a lot of broken stone, almost gravel. Behind one of the big rocks I could see the man they called Gerard.
It was strange, in an odd kind of way, to think of him as a person with a name. My mind had been focussed on him as my target, my witness, a poacher. Now he was Gerard and Marie knew him. Somehow.
The man had obviously fallen over the edge of the working and, perhaps lucky for him, had landed on a patch of broken stones that were little more than rough sand. But I could guess that it would be bad enough. Looked to me like a broken leg and, I supposed, there’d be a good chance of internal injuries too. I turned to Marie.
‘Stay here Marie.’ I gently squeezed her hand. ‘And please, don’t come too near the edge. I’ll find a way down...see if I can help.’
‘Well you’re the one to be careful then.’ she said, pulling me back. ‘I’ve only just found you again. I don’t want to lose you once more.’
Back at the top of the rocky slope, we could hear Rachel’s angry voice as she spoke to Bertrand, telling him to hurry.
‘They’re on their way.’ She called down to us. ‘The phone signal’s not very strong, but I think they’ve got the message. Bloody Bertrand wanted to finish his dinner first. Bloody man. What’s going on Dad, can you see?’
As I scanned the cliff for the best climb, I told her what I could see and suggested she stay on the higher ground where the phone’s signal should be best. No doubt they would search for us with their mobile-phone locator gadget.
~ ~ ~
The climb down wasn’t a difficult one, more of a scramble really. The only problems being the weathered state of the stone and loosened rock. I was soon at the bottom and could see that Gerard had a serious injury to his leg. He was quiet now. He’d pulled his scarf back across his hideously deformed face. All I could see were his eyes, wide and clear, following me as I came towards him.
The big hunting knife lay well out of his reach. One thing less to worry about, I thought.
‘Keep away from me.’ Gerard mumbled, his weakened voice muffled through his scarf. ‘I’ll be alright in a moment. Just leave me alone.’
‘I’m sorry Gerard, old man, but left alone you’ll not be ok.’ I told him quietly as I looked at a blood soaked trouser leg
. ‘Looks like your left leg is broken. You need hospital treatment.’
He tried to move, drag himself away from me.
‘Lie still, man. You’ll make things worse. Help is on its way and they’ll get you fixed up. I bet the docs can help you in other ways too.’ I was close enough to smell him now. ‘We should be able to hear the chopper soon. They’ll have you out of here, into clean sheets and feeling comfortable in no time.’
He was very pale, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his eyes darting from side to side in his anxiety. He began a delirious rambling in mumbled french. I could hardly catch a word that I recognised, except I thought he mentioned Jacques once or twice. His eyelids drooped and flickered.
‘What do you know of poor Jacques, Gerard?’ I asked him, feeling it important to keep him conscious. ‘Do you remember what you saw last Sunday?’
‘Hm....Bad business.’ he said distantly, as though in a dream. ‘Dead now.’
His eyes opened and he stared at me, ‘But you know that. You were there too.’
‘Yes I was there. Jacques had already stabbed his mother and killed her housekeeper. He was threatening to shoot me after he’d had his fun hunting me down.’
‘He always was a live one.’ he chuckled and coughed. ‘Stabbed Marie you say?’ he stared at me. ‘That’s not good….How is she?’
He’d obviously forgotten the scuffle on the path through the woodland.
‘She’ll be ok. She’s up there with my daughter. They’ve been looking for you.’ I told him.
‘Ah...There’s a lot of people looking for me I think.’ He tried to move again.
‘Keep still....Why are people looking for you.’
‘I don’t know. Leave me alone. Just leave me be.’
‘How do you know Marie.’ I asked.
‘You’ll have to ask her...Won’t you.’ his eyes closed and his breathing gagged as he coughed.
I turned to look for Marie, but she’d moved away from the cliff-top. In the distance I could hear the all too familiar thrash of rotor blades. Seems they were coming in fast.
‘Cover your eyes, Gerard. They’ll be here in a second and the dust and sand will fly in the draft.’ I moved to pull the scarf over his eyes, but he pushed my hand away.