by Graham West
As the skies grew darker still, Jenny clung to her father’s arm. He turned and their eyes met, and she saw the same fear in him—the fear they all felt. Darren and Danni were together, and Alex and Maddy walked ahead, several metres behind Blakely and his wife. Peter followed on behind, his face almost covered by the poncho hood. They had passed the clearing, stopping briefly at the burned-out cottage. Alex kept his distance, and Maddy tried to distract him quickly with a quip Jenny didn’t catch because of the first rumble of thunder. Everyone stopped, waiting for the flash.
“If it starts getting serious, we’re going to turn back,” Blakely told them. That was when they heard Laura come through on his radio contact.
Cody was missing.
Jenny heard the panic in Laura’s voice, and they all knew he would be heading straight for the forest.
“I’ll have to go back,” Peter said. “I’ll have to go back to the gate. That’s where he’ll get in.”
“I’ll come with you,” Blakely said. “I’ve got the radio. We’ll need to keep in touch.”
Alex had the other radio on his belt, their link to the real world. The world beyond that place. As Blakely and Peter Nelson headed back, Alex took control. “Come on. Those guys wouldn’t have gone too deep into the forest. They won’t be that far from the lake.”
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Danni blurted, clearly alarmed by the thunder. “They won’t have left those women on the ground. They would have buried them somewhere. How the hell are we going to find them?”
“We’re looking for those trees,” Jenny said.
“What trees? There’s hundreds of the things!”
“Not like these.” Jenny flashed Cody’s drawing.
“Is that all we’ve got to go on? A bloody picture?” Danni looked close to tears. “Even if that’s where they’d been dumped, we’ll be digging for days.”
“No,” Rob said. “It will be a shallow grave.”
Jenny realised how crazy it sounded, but Danni hadn’t been there when Blakely had hired three divers to go looking for the remains of a girl she’d seen in a dream. That was pretty bizarre too. There was another rumble of thunder that vibrated the ground beneath them. Danni shrieked, pulling Darren closer as lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the clouds.
“Jesus!” Alex muttered. “I think we need to get the hell out of here—now!”
As he said it, his radio crackled. It was Blakely. His words echoed around them. “He’s not here. I must have been too late. That kid—he’s in there. He’s somewhere in there with you.”
Another clap of thunder was followed by a bolt of lightning that struck a tree just metres ahead, sending shards of charred splinters into the air. Danni began to sob, still clinging to Darren as if he were her only hope of survival.
“We can’t leave the kid,” Penny said.
“That stupid woman!” Danni wailed. “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids.”
Jenny knew it was the fear talking, but she’d have happily strangled Laura Nelson herself. “Let’s go back,” she said, trying to sound calm. “He’s probably headed for the cottage.”
They turned obediently, calling Cody’s name over and over again. With so much of the foliage having been consumed by the fire, it was easy enough to see some distance ahead. But when they reached the clearing, the boy was nowhere to be found.
“What are we going to do?” Kayla asked. “What if something happens to that kid?”
The next rumble of thunder sounded as if it were somewhere in the distance, and for a second, Jenny felt a wave of relief; the storm was moving away. But then there was another flash of blinding light. This time, the bark burst into flame as a gust of wind almost took them off their feet.
“What the fuck was that?” Alex yelled.
“And how’s that tree alight?” Kayla’s voice was frantic now. “It’s pissing down!”
Penny stared ahead in horror. “It wasn’t lightning.”
They all turned to her.
“What?”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you see? Didn’t you hear? The thunderstorm’s miles away. And that lightning didn’t come from the sky. It came along the ground.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Danni said. “You’re seeing things.”
Another gust of wind whistled through the trees, and they all jumped at the cracking sound of falling branches.
“Watch out!” Jenny screamed as a gnarled clump of blackened wood came hurtling towards them.
But then she saw something else from the corner of her eye. A shapeless shadow drifted between the trees, discernible only by the darkness it cast in its wake. She watched it envelop the burning tree, extinguishing the flames in an instant.
“Oh God! It wasn’t wind, and it wasn’t lightning. It was them!”
“Who?” Kayla asked.
Jenny stepped forward, leaving the group behind her. “It’s the women. They’re guiding us.” She pointed towards the tree. “We need to head that way.”
“But what about the kid?” Maddy asked.
“Cody will be there,” Jenny replied with a confidence that surprised her.
Danni stayed quiet. She’d obviously decided this whole thing was so crazy she might as well go along with it.
As they passed the tree, Penny reached out and touched the bark. “It’s cold,” she said under her juddering breath.
Jenny resisted the urge to suggest it hadn’t been a real fire anyway, and continued looking around.
Josie flung her arms up in frustration. “We’re chasing shadows here. Literally.”
Another flash of light lit up the forest, and another tree exploded into flames—flames that died almost instantly. This time, the group needed no instruction from Jenny. The water had penetrated their ponchos, and Jenny felt it trickling down her back. Up until then, the atmosphere had been tropical, but she shivered as the stench of burning flesh permeated her nostrils.
“Look!” Penny cried. “It’s him!”
They all turned, peering into the distance. Through the twisted black trunks was a clearing, much smaller than the one they had passed through before, and in the centre of it stood Cody Nelson, gazing up at the trees he had seen in his head only a few days ago. They ran towards him, but Jenny reached the clearing first. She stopped dead, turning and holding a finger to her lips. They all stood in silence. No one breathed a word, not even a whisper. Instead, they waited, studying the small blonde-haired boy who remained motionless. Then he turned, his blue eyes staring up from beneath his blonde fringe.
“They’re here,” he said. “They’re all here.”
Part Three
Four Weeks Later
Chapter Sixty-Three
The locals didn’t get the quiet affair they’d been hoping for. With a lack of major news events, the tale of Tabwell’s witches made the national press, and news of the funeral travelled as far as America and Australia. Film directors, biographers and journalists all descended on the town, filling its hotels, bars and cafés.
Once the professionals had moved in to recover the women’s remains, the council had put pressure on them to get the job done quickly. They had found the twelve bodies, side by side, in a shallow grave beneath the twisted branches of the trees, and Cody’s drawing had been reproduced as prints. A local gift shop had stocked up with mugs bearing the image of the twelve crosses and sold out within a week. The Nelsons had asked that their son’s name be kept out of the press; the last thing they needed was a television crew poking around.
Several Sunday newspapers had offered huge amounts of money for the rights to publish Tunstall’s account, even though it was only few paragraphs long, but the man had gained notoriety overnight and they wanted to browse through all his books to see if there was anything else they could learn about the self-appointed witch hunter. The trunk containing Tunstall’s dubious past had been handed down to Matthews through his family, raising questions as to his ancestor’
s involvement in the affair, so no one was surprised when he refused to sell the books.
But if Matthews’ family name had been tarnished, the future looked bright for Mosswood Adventure Park. Penny took fifteen enquiries from schools all over the North West regarding the possibility of visiting the forest as part of a history outing, and the hotel was fully booked for the next three weeks.
Blakely stood in the shade of a tree in the grounds of St. Jude’s, mystified at the interest the funeral had generated. They had buried the remains of Jacob Root alongside his daughter in a quiet graveside service a week ago to the day. Jenny had stood solemnly alongside him, while Penny, Alex and Maddy hung back, respectfully observing the ritual. He’d slept soundly that night and woke refreshed, preparing himself for this day—the day when Tabwell laid its ghosts to rest.
His father had listened to the story of the Tabwell witches from beginning to end. It was unusual for his old man to allow him to finish a sentence, let alone a fifteen-minute tale of things that went bump in the day. But when he was done, his father sounded indifferent.
“Look, Dennis,” he said wearily, “I’m not going to fight you anymore. It’s your park, and I’m not going to interfere. If it makes money, then I’m happy. If it doesn’t…”
His father had never been the easy-going type; it was a little unnerving.
“This isn’t like you. Is everything all right?”
His father’s voice seemed to falter. “I’m okay now. The other week, I collapsed on the golf course. It was a heart attack—a mild one—and they’re monitoring me. But I’m taking pills, probably for the rest of my life.”
Blakely breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey, just take it easy,” he warned. “You’re a pain in the arse sometimes, but I’d never want to lose you.”
“It’s taught me a lesson, son. Life’s too short. You’re a good manager, and that’s why I’m stepping back.”
Time would tell if his father really could let go of the reigns, but he’d promised Blakely the money was there if it was needed.
Jenny’s design for the memorial had met with everyone’s approval: twelve individual crosses in a row, less than a foot apart. In the drawing, not all of them were straight, and Jenny had decided to set them on a long stone plinth, which would bear the names of the women, at the exact angles depicted in the picture: the twelve women of Tabwell whose names would be remembered for the rest of time.
With his father’s blessing, Blakely had funded the funeral, which had gone someway to allaying the concerns of the parish council. Twelve coffins would be carried from twelve cars, all making their way from Mosswood to the church. Roads were closed and loudspeakers had been set up in the grounds; at least three television crews descended on the town with their outdoor broadcast vehicles.
Francis had chosen his favourite piece of music to accompany the procession through the grounds and down the aisle.
“I’m being a bit naughty,” he told Jenny, “but the best rendition of The Lord’s Prayer is by Andrea Bocelli and The Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I should really choose an Anglican version, but this is my favourite.”
It hardly mattered in the end. There was nothing wrong with folk of different persuasions learning to appreciate each other. If the human race weren’t so intrinsically intolerant, they wouldn’t be watching twelve funeral cars drawing up outside the gates.
***
Jenny still wondered how the funeral of twelve women who died centuries ago had caught the imagination of the public. Even the whingers had been silenced, at least for the day. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up as the bearers from the local cadets bore the twelve coffins through the grounds to the strains of The Lord’s Prayer. Francis was right; the music was almost heavenly, and she found herself choking back tears.
Blakely followed her into the church. Pews had been removed to make enough room for the coffins, which were placed side by side at the front. Francis looked nervous but sounded confident. His voice carried the length of the church and through the grounds where the crowd swelled around the gates, spilling onto the road.
“We are gathered here today, not to join a man with his wife, but to join twelve women with this church.”
The unexpected ripple of applause surprised him. “These women were innocent,” he continued, raising a hand to silence his much larger than usual congregation. “I have taken time to read the accounts so brazenly recorded by the perpetrator of this act of evil. A man who, with his allies, took upon himself the status of judge, jury and executioner without ever consulting either the Church or the courts of this land.
“These women were deemed responsible for the deaths of infants—children who, in reality, died due to drinking polluted water. As the mothers of this town grieved for their offspring, these women were taken, in the dead of night, and all died a terrible death in a forest just two miles from here.”
Francis paused, and silence fell over the church and its grounds. “And so I commend these women to God. They shall be buried not as witches, but as daughters of Christ.”
This time, the applause began at the gates and travelled like a wave through to the pulpit. Francis bowed his head, and the choir began to sing. Nearer my God to thee, nearer to thee…
Overwhelmed, Jenny quietly slipped out of the church. It wasn’t just the service, it was the family; it was good to see them again, especially Sebastian, who had filled up when they embraced.
No one had gathered in the small garden at the rear: it was the ideal place to go. She walked slowly down the narrow path and stopped at the wooden gate, sensing someone had followed her. She turned to see Jake standing there, tears streaming down his face.
“I’ve missed you, babe,” he choked. “I’m so, so sorry.”
***
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Rob asked, gazing out across the crowds of people milling around the grounds.
“They’ll be fine, hun.” Josie squeezed his hand. “They love each other.”
“You could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw him standing there at the gate.”
“You did great. I’m proud of you.”
Rob grinned. “Why? Because I didn’t kick off on him?”
Josie laughed. “Well, it is your daughter he’s kept hanging on for over a month. You could be forgiven for getting a bit tetchy.”
Rob had been ready with his lecture, but Jake had disarmed him by apologising profusely. There were tears in his eyes and he looked several pounds lighter. It was easier to let things go, and Rob hoped Jenny and Jake could do the same. Darren wouldn’t be a problem; he had hung back with a face like a thunderstorm, but Rob knew he’d be happy to see his sister settled again.
***
Alex stood outside the gates with Maddy. This was the second time in four weeks they’d stepped inside a church. He remembered the awkward proposal and the response that had been interrupted by Reverend Francis as he took to the pulpit. Alex had decided it was best not to raise the subject again—not for a while, at least.
Maddy seemed preoccupied today, and it bothered him. His paranoia was rising to the surface again. Maybe she was having second thoughts. Perhaps he’d blown it. But what if she was waiting for him to go down on one knee with a ring in his pocket?
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
Maddy nodded, forcing a weak smile.
“You seem quiet.”
“Just thinking about stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah, weird stuff.”
“Like what?” he asked, realising he was sliding even further back into his old ways. “I’m sorry. I’m asking you a million questions.”
Maddy sighed. “It’s okay, I’m being stupid. It’s just the mind-reading thing. What if I kind of inherited it? What if Isabella had it and that’s why they thought she was a witch? What if it wasn’t just about the kids?”
Alex laughed. “Really? Is that what you’re worried about? Does it matter now?”
Maddy shr
ugged. “If I’d lived during their time, they’d have tied me to one of those trees.”
“That’s what’s bothering you?”
“Not really, but I’ve got no friends. That bothers me.”
Alex put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I don’t have any friends either.”
“You mean they got fed up of you obsessing over Danni?”
“How did you know that?”
“She’s pretty.”
“Yeah, she is. But you haven’t answered the question.”
Maddy shrugged. “Maybe I worked it out.”
“Or maybe it’s to do with your…you know, your ability.”
“My curse, you mean.”
Alex sensed she was looking for some kind of reassurance, a few well-chosen words, and he gave them. “If you could see into my head twenty-four seven, then yes, that would be freaky. But you obviously can’t.”
“How do you know?” Maddy chuckled.
“Because you’d know I’ve been try to pluck up the courage…” He paused, catching his breath.
“Courage for what?”
“To ask you to marry me.” Alex stared straight ahead, focusing of the crowds of people, the cars, the yellow-jacketed police directing the traffic. “I know you’re staring at me,” he joked. “But can’t you just say something? Anything will do, right now!”
“Then look at me,” she said tenderly.
Alex turned as Maddy leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “That day, in the church, I thought you were joking.”
“I was, in a serious kind of way.”
Maddy frowned. “But that was weeks ago. Why didn’t you ask me again? Properly.”
“I thought you’d say no.”
Maddy smiled. “Then it’s a pity it’s not you who can read minds, because you’d know that the answer would have been yes!”