by Matt Hilton
‘Effie? Effie! We’re over here!’
Recognising the shout, Effie’s strength almost gave out. She stumbled again, but this time managed to stay upright. ‘Becks!’
Snatches of colour grew distinct in the woodland gloom. Excitable voices rang out from the small group on the trail, directing them in. Effie went to her hands and knees to get under the lowest boughs alongside the trail, then burst out onto the path. She saw the trio of younger girls, and Leah, but wasn’t interested in them. She sprinted towards Becks. Her girlfriend lunged to meet her, and they embraced with a passion approaching ferocity. The others crowded around them, still talking over each other. Dom broke through a screen of twigs and onto the path. His crashing arrival startled the others — not Effie or Becks, they only had time for each other right then, as they checked each other over. The trio of girls crowded towards him, asking questions he didn’t have answers to. Leah stood off between them and the couple, her eyebrows almost at her hairline. When she met Dom’s gaze, it was with an expression he might not have expected: relief.
‘What’s goin’ on?’ he demanded. The three girls began squawking and crying and jabbing fingers deeper into the woods behind them.
Apparently Becks had already given Effie some terrible news, because Effie gave an animalistic howl and again threw herself into a hug with Becks.
‘What the bloody hell’s goin’ on?’ Dom demanded again, this time directly to Leah. Her mouth hung open, and she shook her head. She didn’t want to be the one to explain. ‘Fuck sake! Just tell me!’
‘It’s…it’s Rob…’
‘What? You found him? Where?’ Dom’s head darted to and fro, as if he might spot Rob nearby. ‘Where is he, Leah?’
Shelley grabbed at him, squawked something unintelligible. She dropped to her knees, still clinging to his arm. He did a double take, then it was as if he registered the intense shock on everyone’s faces. ‘No,’ he croaked.
‘I’m sorry, Dom,’ Leah said, her voice equally as hoarse.
‘No. Not Rob. Not my best mate!’
‘He was hanged!’ The howl erupted from Becks. ‘Somebody hanged him, Dom. They strung him up to a tree with his belt!’
‘No. No way! Is this some kind of sick joke?’ Dom peeled free of Shelley’s grasp. Bending at the waist, and for some reason directing the accusation at Leah. ‘It’s a lie, right? Tell me this is somebody’s idea of a cruel joke?’
Leah shook her head, whispered, ‘I’m sorry. He’s dead, Dom…murdered.’
‘No bloody way! No. This is bollocks…’ He looked to Becks and Effie for a truth he could accept, and their distraught faces told him everything. He bent deeper, hands on his knees, as he moaned at the ground, ‘No, no, no…’
Still on her knees, Shelley held on to him again, and Hayley and Annie plucked at their friend’s coat too. Becks and Effie fell into each other’s embrace, weeping. Only Leah stood alone, ignored for the moment. She didn’t move. Until another terrified shout rang through the woods – this time shrill: Jenna screaming. ‘We have to get to the kids,’ she said, but it was as if her words were lost in the sobbing, bawling, and — from Dom — curses of disbelief.
‘We have to get to the kids,’ Leah repeated, this time louder. Still nobody gave her a second’s notice. ‘Listen!’ She ran forward and grabbed at Annie, the nearest person to her, jostling her around. She pushed Hayley aside, and didn’t bother moving Shelley. She shook Dom. ‘Listen! The kids! We have to go and help them now!’
Dom’s eyes brimmed with tears. Until he actually saw Rob hanged by his belt, murdered as the others had claimed, he wouldn’t believe his friend had gone. But grief was raw in him all the same, and it manifested as anger. He snapped his hands on Leah’s collars, dragged her towards him. Their noses were an inch apart. ‘Who did it?’ He shook her. ‘Who hurt, Rob? Was it you?’
‘It wasn’t me.’ Leah thrust her palms against his chest, shoving back, avoiding the spray of his saliva. ‘I don’t know who did it. But listen, Dom. Listen!’
‘This has to be your fault!’ He shook her again, and Leah had had enough of his manhandling. She slapped at his hands. Dom only held tighter, shook harder.
‘Get your bloody hands off me!’ Leah screeched. She slapped again at his arms, and might well have gone for his eyes if Becks hadn’t interjected. She pulled and pushed, and got between them. Effie, face blotchy and pale, also grabbed Dom and moved him away, trying to convince him of Leah’s innocence. Leah stood shaking, one palm over her mouth. The three younger girls stood behind her, horrified.
Dom turned his back on them, fists snapping at the air around him as he worked off some of his rage. Becks checked on Leah, mouthing an apology on their friend’s behalf. Leah shook her head, pointed again towards camp. ‘I’m okay. It isn’t me who needs help. Listen…the others, the kids, they need us.’
The shouts and screams had curtailed, replaced by another rhythmic sound as if someone was hacking down a tree.
‘What the fuck is that?’ Dom, his face beetroot, eyes extended, stared down the trail – instantly his rage had found a new target. He snapped a look at Leah, but she had no explanation. Instead she said, ‘Somebody killed Rob, it sounds like they are trying to hurt the kids.’
As if to punctuate her point, another ragged yell echoed across the island.
‘Oh my God! That was Harry!’ Shelley, for all the disapproval she’d earlier directed at her boyfriend, suddenly haired off down the trail. The others were only a second or two behind her.
28
When gunshots ring out, accompanied by screams, most human beings are conditioned to run for cover, not directly at the source of danger. Hiding, keeping your head down, and staying silent is the most sensible reaction. But that only applied until loved ones were the targets of the danger, and then responses could be more reckless. Dom, Becks and Effie had a professional duty of care to their young charges, but that was not why they ran towards danger. Shelley, Hayley and Annie: well, their reason was obvious, mostly Shelley’s. Harry, for all they’d had a falling out, was her boyfriend, and his scream of pain-filled terror had her sprinting without a second’s thought for her own safety. Leah barely knew any of these people, and yet she ran headlong towards the camp, as if her nearest and dearest were the ones in peril. Perhaps it was her assertion that Harry, Ben and Jenna were kids: children required protection, and it didn’t matter if they were blood related or not, they were kids and innocents, and her natural instinct to hide was overwhelmed by her need to save them.
They stormed through the glade, by-passing the cabin without considering it as a refuge, and onto the trailhead. The cliff and the steps down to camp weren’t too far off, but every step she took, Leah felt was a step further away. It was akin to a nightmare sensation where you groped for something forever out of reach and the anxiety levels rose with each attempt. But she was making progress, and she had to wonder if her state of mind was her primitive instincts warning her to stay clear.
Dom outpaced Shelley. More than her need to reach Harry, he’d concluded that the murder of Rob and the outbreak of chaos were connected, and he was driven by outrage. Leah shouted at him — his anger was no match for a shotgun-wielding maniac! — but he powered on, charging through the dim tunnel of tree limbs towards where the woods opened up on the cliff top. He was senseless to her shouts of caution, or ignored them, because if anything he ran faster. Suddenly a figure spilled out of the forest between Shelley and Dom, the latter unaware. Shelley almost pounced on Jenna, grabbing the girl who fell to her knees in relief at seeing potential saviours. Leah and the others almost crashed into them. They surrounded the girl, their panic-fuelled questions flying thick and fast.
Jenna was a mess, more a raggedy doll than a porcelain one now — a shallow wound in her scalp poured an excessive amount of blood down her right cheek and ear, and her hair was snagged with broken twigs and pine needles, her clothing filthy from crawling through dirt. She was oblivious to the wound; t
here was little lucidity in her eyes when she goggled up at the concerned faces circling her. She couldn’t find the breath to answer anyone. Shelley couldn’t support her either, and the girl slumped over, placing her face in her palms and sobbing. Shelley looked away from Jenna, to the racing figure of Dom. And that was enough for her; she fired off a look of apology at Annie and Hayley, and darted after him, without learning the depth of the danger she charged towards. It was pointless hollering at her to wait, so Leah turned her attention on Jenna.
She crouched alongside the distraught girl, hands offering comfort on her shoulders. ‘Jenna! You have to tell us what happened. Has somebody been…’ she didn’t know the right word to use, and her supposed to be a writer. ‘What happened down there?’
‘He killed him! Oh my god, he killed him!’
Jenna’s announcement was greeted by squawks of disbelief, and an echoing screech from Annie, who was also on the verge of collapse.
‘Who?’ Leah demanded, raising her voice to be heard. ‘Who killed who, Jenna? Who are you talking about?’
‘The owner…’ Jenna’s face was stricken. ‘The boat captain!’
‘McBride? You’re talking about Mr McBride?’
‘Ye…Yes, I think…I don’t know. He said he owned the island and…’ Jenna broke into fresh sobs.
Leah’s brain was awhirl with disbelief. ‘McBride hurt one of the boys?’
‘No, no…he almost shot Harry by accident but then…’
‘Harry hurt him?’
‘No…it wasn’t Harry. Somebody else!’ It was apparent she didn’t mean Ben. ‘Another man. He killed McBride with an axe!’
If there had been a cacophony of raised voices before it lost all significance to the calamity her announcement brought. Annie squealed, Hayley almost swallowed her own fist. Becks and Effie also flew into mild panic, and Effie began gagging as if about to throw up. Leah was too stunned to exhibit her shock. Jenna babbled. ‘He hit him with an axe, over and over. Oh my god, the blood…and then he picked up the gun and he chased me and Ben…I ran, and now I don’t know where Ben is! Oh God, you have to help me find Ben!’
‘There were two shots,’ Leah finally said, ‘was anybody hit?’
‘Harry.’
‘Harry was shot?’ Leah’s question elicited a corresponding shriek from Annie.
‘No. He shot at Harry, but I think Harry got away. I don’t know. I was too busy running….running with Ben. But we got split up at the top of the steps. We have to go back. We have to find Ben before…before…’ Jenna degenerated into sobs again.
Leah stared at Becks, then at Effie, and if their faces were anything to go by hers would also be a pale mask of shock. They had no words. Leah shook Jenna. ‘The man who attacked McBride…’
‘I’ve never seen him before…he…’ Jenna’s eyes grew wide. ‘I heard his name! McBride called him on his radio. Told him you were here on the island.’ There was more than a hint of accusation in her voice, as if all of this was Leah’s fault. ‘Then the man arrived and killed McBride with an axe, and then…’ She shook, then bent over and vomited between her knees.
Desperate for answers, Leah only waited for the retching to stop before pushing the girl for more. ‘You said you heard his name. What was his name, Jenna? You have to remember.’
‘Rington, I think.’ Jenna swiped her cuff over her lips, dashing away a string of acidic saliva. ‘Rington…no, wait, that wasn’t it. It was…it was…something like Lantern!’
‘Langston?’ Leah stressed.
‘Yes, Langston. The captain called him Langston.’
‘What? You’re sure McBride called him Langston?’ It was as if a hand grenade detonated inside Leah’s skull.
‘Yes. That was it. He called him Langston, and then Langston came and…’
Leah sat down hard on the ground.
It couldn’t have been Pete! It just couldn’t have…and yet Leah knew otherwise. Before their break up, Pete’s behaviour had grown too possessive. The spying he’d done on her, the accusations he’d made towards her publicist Jerry Redmond, the way he’d reacted when he found out she intended travelling to Shattered Rock without him, the fresh accusations, the anger, the build up to violence she’d barely escaped: was Pete capable of the horrific acts Jenna was accusing him of? She could barely countenance the idea of Pete murdering anyone, but there was no denying Jenna had witnessed a horrific act. It must have been an accident…had to have been.
Becks loomed over her. She grasped the front of her own jacket, screwed handfuls of material in her fists. ‘Leah? Who is he? Who’s this Langston you’re talking about? You know who he is!’
Words caught in Leah’s throat.
‘Leah! Who is he? Is he the one that killed Rob?’
‘No…no, he…’
Becks grabbed Leah’s coat, now bunching it in her fists. Her face was screwed with an equal ferocity as her fists twisted the cloth. ‘You heard what Jenna said! He killed McBride, and then he shot at Harry. Who else could have murdered Rob?’
Numbly, Leah tried to prize free of Becks, but the muscular young woman wasn’t for budging. She almost hauled Leah off the ground, before Effie intervened. She got between them, hands against Becks’s chest, urging her to back off.
‘She knows who the bastard is!’ Becks screeched. ‘She needs to tell us.’
‘He…he’s my fiancé,’ Leah croaked. ‘No…was my fiancé. We broke up before I came here. I…’
‘You broke up with him,’ Becks snapped. ‘But he didn’t want to let you go, did he? He must have followed you here, Leah, to…to do God knows what!’
The chance that Jenna was talking about a different Langston was infinitesimally small, but until Leah laid eyes on Pete, she wouldn’t accept that he was the one responsible for killing McBride, or anyone else. And yet she was in denial. Pete knew where she was travelling to, and that it was an isolated cabin on an uninhabited island. He’d suggested coming with her to Shattered Rock, not to keep her company but to make sure she hadn’t planned an illicit rendezvous with a secret lover. Had his jealousy got the better of him, and he’d followed her to Shattered Rock, to spy on her from a distance? Those incidents at the cabin and elsewhere, they were the nefarious behaviour of a stalker. Peeping in at her while she showered, sneaking into the cabin in the night, taking things…they weren’t the actions of a sane man, but definitely those of someone sent crazy with jealousy. Had Pete seen her dancing with Rob, and later sharing an intimate moment when she kissed him after he walked her back to her cabin? Had her one simple show of affection for another man sent him over the edge? She recalled the look on his face — a moment before she slapped him and knocked some sense into his head — and it had been a promise of violence. If Pete were capable of hurting her, how far would he go if driven beyond good reason? Had he followed Rob, attacked him in the dark, then dragged him off to string him up to a tree with his own belt? It seemed an incredible amount of effort, to carry Rob that far: maybe he had a weapon — an axe — and had force-marched Rob to the place of his execution. Why to the location where Leah found the bracelet, though? Unless he’d been spying on her when she found the trinket, and had recognised a good place to conceal his crime from the others. Had his recent murderous attack on McBride resulted because Rob’s body had been discovered, and this was a panicked response where he must shut up any potential witnesses?
Why attack McBride?
The simple explanation was that McBride knew who he was, and whom he’d come to the island to find. McBride must have fetched him across from Tayinloan on his boat, the same day she had arrived. Pete must have been hot on her heels, and possibly chartered the boat immediately after McBride dropped her and returned to port, because her unknown stalker had been around since her first night on Shattered Rock. McBride promised he would look in on her, had he made a similar promise to Pete? Jenna said they spoke to each other on radio, so assumedly they were communicating prior to this. But before he’d arrived and attac
ked McBride, Pete had been told she was there on Shattered Rock…why would that be necessary if Pete already knew?
‘He must have followed you here,’ Becks said again, equally as strident as before, and the implied accusation was that Leah was to blame for everything.
Her brain couldn’t make sense of the flood of questions and accusations. Leah sagged. ‘I warned him to leave me alone,’ she said weakly.
‘He hasn’t touched you. He killed Robert! He killed the man on the beach, and God knows what’s happened to Ben or Harry!’
More squeaks of dismay punctuated Becks’s point, and Jenna struggled to stand. Annie, having never voiced any attraction to Harry, obviously cared for him as a friend, because even she made a lurch along the path to follow Shelley and Dom, who by now had been swallowed up by the verdant gloom. Hayley moved back and forward, unsure which way to run.
‘We don’t know it was Pete,’ Leah croaked, but to convince herself more than anyone. She pushed up; flinching when she thought Becks was about to punch her. But the woman only grabbed her again, and it was to offer a steadying hand. Effie similarly supported Becks. ‘We have to see what’s really happening down there, before we…’ Leah had no idea what they’d do then. Without first confirming what had happened, she couldn’t come up with a plan.
29
Dom hollered. His voice sounded as sharp as the shotgun blasts had earlier. Shelley squealed. Without thought, Leah and the others began hurtling along the path again, their voices raised in question: confirmation of what was going on, as yet, was a way off for any of them.
They burst out onto the head of the steps, but crowded together before going down, flanked by the large boulders. There wasn’t room for five, but Becks and Effie forced past the younger girls to the front. Leah had to crane between their heads to see past them. The beach below was seemingly deserted. But the sounds of a struggle came from somewhere below and to the right. Dom swore continuously, and Shelley’s language was equally as colourful. Another voice was a series of throaty yells and grunts. What the hell was going on? Apparently, the mad axe man wasn’t having things his way with his assaulters.