by Simon Clark
‘But it isn’t Jay that is evil,’ Laura insisted. ‘An evil force is working through him. Because of this.’ She typed N’Taal into the search engine. Straightaway, a website appeared. At first it appeared to be a tile pattern. However, each tile was the photograph of a man, woman or child.
‘It’s a tribute site maintained by people who don’t believe that this atrocity should be forgotten. Every picture here is of a person that died on the N’Taal.’
Victor read the banner across the top of the screen. ‘“Turned away from every port. No mercy. Three hundred and eighty lives lost. God help them. God help us for letting it happen.” You’ve looked for Jay’s photograph?’
‘Solomon’s right. He doesn’t appear here. Also, his name isn’t in the passenger inventories.’ She clicked a loudspeaker icon. ‘This is a recording of the last radio message from the N’Taal.’ From the surf-like hiss of static came the voice of the long-dead captain: ‘This message isn’t directed at emergency services or to coastguard or navies of the Western powers. We have sailed to each of your nations, we have asked for sanctuary. You turned us away from your harbours. When we told you that we needed medicines and food for the men, women and children on board you gave us nothing. When I radioed that the ship had started taking on water we heard, by way of answer, only silence. We, the Cathdran, are poor people. But we are human beings like yourselves – something that you forget. Yesterday, our last pump failed, and water continues to leak through the keel. Today, the ship’s engines are losing power. In a few short hours this ship will become our tomb. The passengers and crew belong to the same tribe with the same blood, the same beliefs. We have done with begging. We will not cry any more. Our last few hours of life on this earth will be devoted to our righteous and justifiable anger. Ours is the proud way of the warrior. Our ancestors marched with Hannibal on Rome. Even though we have been a persecuted minority for a thousand years we do know how to strike back. From beyond the grave if need be. Our thirst for vengeance is unquenchable. Our rage, eternal. As you’ve hurt us, so we will hurt you. We cry vengeance at you. Vengeance!’ Victor wasn’t sure if he imagined it but he thought he heard hundreds of voices, in a language he didn’t understand, join that of the captain. From the speakers pulsed a single word over and over. Although he couldn’t interpret it he didn’t doubt its meaning: ‘VENGEANCE . . . VENGEANCE . . . VENGEANCE!’
Laura murmured, ‘“From hell’s heart I stab at thee.”’
‘Those people must have been born holding a grudge.’
‘If we were in their position, their children effectively sentenced to death by uncaring governments, wouldn’t we do the same? If we could?’
Torrents of air made ghostly sighs through the window. It didn’t require much to believe that phantoms from the N’Taal, lying at the bottom of the Atlantic, had found their way to Siluria aboard the westerly winds. For an instant, Victor thought he saw shadowy faces peering down through the clouds. They want their vengeance. Now they’re close to getting it . . . He remembered what Wilkes had told him, that he’d seen Jay repeating ‘Laura’ over and over. The boy clearly loved her; maybe, however, his compulsion to wreak revenge on behalf of the doomed passengers of the N’Taal was stronger. Victor wrestled with his conscience. Should he tell her? Would it benefit her to know? After all, they say that the impact of a curse is psychological . . . if one believes that it is real . . . He watched her closing the laptop. On her face, an expression of pure determination. Should he really tell her that Jay had uttered her name? Maureen died in a road accident after hearing Jay say her name. Max had gone berserk with fear. Fearing her reaction might be one of panic, he nevertheless took the plunge. ‘Laura. Mayor Wilkes told me he’d seen Jay in the street. Jay was repeating your name.’
Swiftly, she turned to fix her eyes on his. Had he done the right thing? What if she panicked? This was tantamount to a death sentence.
‘Victor.’ She sounded shocked. ‘You told me that five minutes ago. Don’t you, remember?’
Waves of fatigue dragged at his senses. He struggled to keep his eyes open. ‘I told you that Jay repeated your name?’
‘Yes. You really can’t remember saying that at all?’
He shook his head. ‘Second stage, I guess. The symptoms are kicking in faster than I’d hoped. Still: work to be done: a goal to be reached.’ He breathed deeply as his mind spun. ‘Whoa . . . vicious little bug, huh? Just when I thought I was getting over it.’
Laura touched his forehead. ‘The fever’s back. You need to be in bed. I’ll fetch the doctor.’
‘No.’ Reaching up to where she rested her cool palm against his brow, he took her hand in his. ‘We’ve got to see this through to the end. If I keep myself active, I’ll be fine.’ He smiled. ‘I never could stand being cooped up in stuffy rooms.’ He shot a longing glance at the outdoors.
‘What are you going to do, Victor?’
‘Solomon told us how to deal with a changeling.’
‘Victor. Not only is it illegal, but Jay’s a little boy. He—’
‘Please, listen to me, Laura. I don’t have long. You know it, I know it. I’m entering second stage of this infection. In a few hours I’ll have lost whatever wits I had. Then after that, coma. Then end stage . . .’ He shrugged. ‘I just wanted to tell you that you do mean a hell of a lot to me. Only when I get close to someone I start thinking about Ghorlan. I can’t stop thinking about her. Deep down, I still know I didn’t do enough to find her. The thought of her lying at the bottom of the river, it—’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘The evening she went missing she called me. My phone was switched off because I was giving a lecture. It was only after she’d disappeared that I realized she’d left a message. It was this: “Never mind, Victor. I’ll catch you later.” There was something about her tone. She wanted to tell me something important. That “never mind” was loaded with so much emotion. Never mind? Never mind! Those seven words she left behind haunt me. It’s worse when I meet a woman and start getting to know her. Never mind, Victor. I’ll catch you later. See, there I go again, being obsessed with Ghorlan.’ He sighed. ‘Now . . . I’m going to tell you something, Laura. Although I’m not sure if I told you a minute ago and forgotten. It’s hard to keep a grip now. Second stage? How can something as devastating as having your mind erased have such a banal name?’
‘What did you want to tell me, Victor?’ She regarded him with a gentle, caring warmth.
‘I like you. I like you a lot. Lou told me I was stupid. I’ve told myself I’m stupid not to follow up that first night we had together with a long heartfelt discussion, where I should have said you are the most wonderful person to come into my life in the last ten years. That I want to see you again. And try . . . try as hard as I can to develop a relationship with you. You might have decided I’m a lunderhead, then told me to take a hike. But at least I would have put the past behind me, so I could have the opportunity of making a go of it with you.’
‘Lunderhead?’
‘Old Silurian word.’ He paused in thought. ‘I was a complete, blithering lunderhead to retreat into my shell and risk losing you. It’s important I tell you this now. Because by tomorrow I don’t know if I will be capable of even stringing a sentence together never mind telling you how I feel.’
‘Thank you.’ Laura’s smile suggested something had opened in her heart. ‘I did want to hear that. Because I like you, too, Victor. The truth is, I find it hard to trust people. And, despite myself, I found I trusted you. When you kept your distance I thought I’d left myself overexposed and downright foolish. Now this feels like starting over.’
The door burst open. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were here with Victor.’ Lou eyed him with a fair amount of suspicion.
‘How are they?’
‘Less volatile, but I’m worried about Archer and Jay.’
‘Archer’s always been the most sensitive. If I speak to him alone I’m—’
‘No, not
that, Laura. Both Archer and Jay are missing. I’ve checked the garden. We’ve looked in the streets nearby but there isn’t a sign. Neither hide nor hair.’
Laura shot Victor a telling glance. Then she turned to the woman, who stood wringing her fingers in the doorway. ‘Don’t worry, Lou. You keep the others occupied. I’ll find Archer.’
Victor nodded. ‘You leave Jay to me.’
After Lou vanished back through the door Laura caught Victor’s arm. ‘When you find Jay, what are you going to do to him?’
‘Whatever happens, just remember we didn’t have this conversation about Jay today – and especially not anything about what Solomon told us.’
‘Victor?’
But Victor ran downstairs without looking back.
Thirty-Four
Archer marched purposefully through the wood in the direction of the castle. Mayor Wilkes followed. Archer had decided to show the mayor where the car was hidden, if he could. Jay had taken the boy there using his weird witch powers. The car had been locked up inside some kind of cellar, the dead woman in the back. But if he explained to Mayor Wilkes where the car was then maybe they could find another entrance. The car, he decided, would be far more important than some old bracelet.
OK, so the bracelet was a clue that would be useful to the police; the car, though, with the corpse in the back, would be big, big news. Archer imagined himself being interviewed on TV. ‘Yes, I went into the cellar. I got into the car, even though it had cobwebs and blood, and the dead body, all bashed in. No, sir, I wasn’t scared.’ Just picture the other kids’ faces when they see me talking on television!
‘Much further?’ asked Mayor Wilkes.
‘Nearly there.’
‘Aren’t we on the path to the castle?’
Archer nodded. Mayor Wilkes would be so amazed when he saw the car.
The man walked alongside the boy. ‘You found a bracelet. That’s connected to the castle, isn’t it?’
Archer suddenly shivered. Why had Mayor Wilkes decided that the bracelet and the castle were connected? It didn’t make sense.
They continued walking up the slope toward the ruin. The big tower punched at the sky; a stone fist bruising the cloud. Now, gales had torn rents in the cloud. Sunlight fell through on to the river and the green back of the island. To Archer the beams of sunlight were blades that knifed the ground. Stab, stab, stab. Archer began to perspire. A taste as bad as dirt filled his mouth. Now he wasn’t so sure about Mayor Wilkes. The man had seemed nice. But now he glared at Archer like Max did before he started nipping his neck. Archer glanced round. They were alone here in the forest. Where was Laura? He needed Laura. This isn’t nice. I don’t like this grown-up. I know he wants to hurt me. A beam of light sliced through the forest canopy. Archer screwed up his eyes at the intensity of the glare. Pain shot through his head. In his imagination he followed the beam that shone down like a searchlight. For Archer it pierced the ground with the intensity of a laser to sizzle tree roots, and scare rabbits in their burrows. Then it would slice through the mud until it reached the castle. There it would illuminate the vault that entombed the car. A great big pulsing explosion of light that would illuminate every detail of the dead lady lying on the back seat. ‘A car that’s been hidden to conceal the murder victim.’ Archer mouthed the words as if he was a television detective.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Mayor Wilkes asked brusquely. ‘Don’t go weird on me yet, until you show me what’s hidden in the castle.’
Hidden in the castle? Archer flinched. He never mentioned anything hidden in the castle. He’d been careful to keep it a surprise. Mayor Wilkes was supposed to be so proud of him for finding the secret car. Now, somehow, the man had guessed. It’s like him knowing there’s a connection between the Ghorlan~Victor bracelet and the castle. That doesn’t make sense. The only way he could know those things was if . . .
Archer murmured the disturbing conclusion aloud just like a TV detective making an important deduction. ‘The only way he could know about the bracelet, and something hidden in the castle, is if he knows that’s where the car is. And that the bracelet came from the car . . .’ That strange mood came over him again. The one that gripped him when he became too worried. Then his emotions would go into shutdown. Catatonia. He’d heard Laura use the word once. Catatonia. It sounded like a disease. Vaguely, he was only half-aware that Mayor Wilkes loomed over him. Above the man’s head, trees shook their branches in cold fury. They seemed to rage at Archer. The little boy who knew too much.
‘What’s that you said?’ The man gripped his shoulder so hard it hurt. ‘You just said something’s hidden in the castle. What is it?’
The stormy gusts must have been noisy enough to prevent the man hearing everything that Archer had muttered. Previously, Archer had feared that Victor had put the dead woman in the car. Now he wasn’t so sure. The mayor’s eyes bulged. He’d become angry with Archer. Really angry. He was shaking the boy as if he were a toy. Not real flesh. Not a human being that could feel pain.
‘I’m warning you, you little freak!’ Wilkes roared. ‘Stop playing the fool! Tell me what you’ve found in the castle!’
Archer couldn’t speak, even if his life depended on it.
‘Tell me!’ Wilkes bunched his fist. ‘Tell me now!’
Archer could only make a gurgling sound.
‘Oh, that silly game again. Where you pretend you’ve gone into a bloody coma. Well, you might fool your imbecile nurses, but you don’t fool me.’ He grinned. ‘You can’t kid a kidder.’ He pulled Archer toward him. Beams of light stabbed down through the branches. ‘Now,’ Mayor Wilkes said with great satisfaction, ‘in your pocket you’ve got something I want. Hand it over, or I’ll shake it out of you.’ To add weight to the words he shook Archer the same way someone would shake dirt out of a rag. ‘Bracelet. Give it to me. Or you’ll be sorry.’
A loud rustling sound came from the bushes. Mayor Wilkes reacted the same way as when he met Victor’s sister in the field. Quickly, he stepped back from Archer. At the same time his features smoothed out, so that gloating expression was hidden behind a mask of normality. The man clearly thought someone would walk through the bushes. Instead, a pair of Saban Deer padded out; a mother and her young fawn. The pair of animals regarded Mayor Wilkes with calm, blue eyes.
‘Bloody pests!’ Wilkes scooped up a stone then pelted the animals. In a flash of yellow they vanished into the shadows.
Archer knew they had the right idea. As fast as he could he raced away.
Behind him, Mayor Wilkes fired off a vicious response. ‘Hey, come back here!’
Archer kept running. A moment later, however, he knew that the big man was chasing after him.
Thirty-Five
The breeze struck Victor the moment he left the hostel. While he still had his wits about him he must find Jay. Solomon had told him what must be done. What he’d read on the websites reinforced the African policeman’s recommendation. Expose Jay to danger. Make him fear for his life. Yet Victor had spent his adult life protecting animals. Now this? When he found Jay he wondered what he’d be capable of. By the church he was hailed by their grim-faced doctor.
‘Victor—’
‘I’m sorry, doctor, I can’t stop. I have to find—’
‘Victor, your sister is ill. You’ve heard about this second stage?’ Stormy gusts drove leaves along the pavement, ghostly forms that seemed to be searching for something in the maze of narrow streets. Dr Nazra continued, ‘Do you understand? The virus attacks the brain.’
Victor nodded. ‘How is she?’
‘Comfortable, but I have to tell you that she’s no longer conscious. She must have been coming to the village for some reason when the illness overwhelmed her.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘At her friend’s house. You do appreciate how critical the second stage is?’
‘How long does she have?’
‘This mutant strain has no model we can work with.’
&n
bsp; ‘Hours?’
‘Hours probably.’ Dr Nazra regarded Victor. ‘And you, Victor, you’ve suffered from this, too.’
‘I’m feeling OK,’ he lied. Already the world had taken on a dreamlike aspect.
‘My regret is that you won’t be for long. Soon you won’t be thinking coherently. Memory will fail. You’ll become so fatigued that you will not be able to stay awake.’ Dr Nazra sighed. ‘But my suggestion that you go home will be wasted on you, won’t it? I can tell you have a matter of great importance.’
Victor smiled grimly. ‘A matter of life and death. If that doesn’t sound too melodramatic.’
‘Then Godspeed.’
Victor thanked him then headed down toward the jetty.
The doctor called after him. ‘And another thing, think twice before you do anything that might cause harm. The fever will cloud your judgement.’
Debris covered the jetty planks: white shards of polystyrene, seaweed, plastic bags and a slimy coating of mud. He wondered why it had been left in such a mess. Then he looked along the shoreline. An upturned dinghy wallowed in the shallows. While on the beach itself were a dozen or so uprooted trees that had been tossed about the beach like a child’s discarded toys.
‘I should know why it looks like this . . . something happened this morning . . .’ He stared at the ravaged coastline. Brown scars revealed where turf had been stripped from the soil. What on earth had caused this? Victor’s blood thudded in his ears. He knew the reason. He was sure he did. Only for the moment he couldn’t quite . . .
‘The ship.’ He sucked air into his lungs. The relief at remembering seemed hugely important. ‘I haven’t lost my wits yet.’ Even so, that moment of not remembering the incident of just a few hours ago, when an ocean-going tanker had sent a tidal wave blasting along the shoreline, left him trembling. ‘You got to keep a grip,’ he breathed. ‘Because you’ve got to find Jay. And do what needs to be done.’