Ryan was standing in the street waiting for her. He was carrying the same backpack that he’d taken to the woods the night before.
‘What have you got in there?’ asked Megan. ‘It looks heavy.’
‘It’ll all make sense when we get to the woods,’ said Ryan as they set off along the road.
Megan was surprised. ‘What do you mean? I thought we were going to the leisure centre at the Hall, not the woods.’
By now Ryan was almost running. ‘We are going to the Hall, but I need to go to the woods first.’
Megan pulled at Ryan’s sleeve. ‘I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me what this is all about,’ she said. ‘What did you mean when you said there were bloodstains on the snow?’
Ryan shook her off. ‘I’m going to show you if you’ll just let me,’ he said. ‘Then you’ll know why I need to hurry. Just follow me. We need to be quick if we’re going to the Hall as well.’
Although Megan was curious, she was also scared of what Ryan might be leading her into. When they reached the footpath that led to the woods, she hesitated. ‘What about the cat?’ she said.
Ryan picked up a large fallen branch by the path and offered it to Megan. ‘Take this if you’re worried, but big cats don’t usually hunt during the daytime. Anyway, there are other people around today. We’ll be OK,’ he said reassuringly.
Megan wasn’t convinced that a stick would be any use against a big cat, but she took it just the same and the two of them set off, walking briskly. The snow had stopped now and the winter sun was struggling to shine. Its faint warmth was comforting as it filtered through the branches, lighting up the snow-smothered land.
Two youths wearing hoodies passed by as they started along the path, but they met no-one else until they came to the bench where the path forked. It was there that they saw a woman running down the small track towards the bench. The woman looked anxious as she slithered and slipped down the steep track, but when she saw Megan and Ryan she put on a broad fixed grin. She looked striking, dressed in white running gear, with a white hat pulled over her black curly hair. She had a large bag on her back.
‘Hi Megan,’ she gasped. ‘Can’t stop. I’m training for the York marathon. Are you coming to swimming club next week? The new pool’s open now. It’s fantastic.’
‘I think so,’ replied Megan. ‘This is Ryan. He might be joining the club after half-term.’
‘Oh great. See you both there then,’ she called, as she joined the main path and headed towards Oakton Road.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Ryan suspiciously.
‘It’s Kirsty. She’s one of the swimming teachers at the Hall. Why? What’s the problem?’
Ryan shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ve seen her a lot when I’ve been walking the dog that’s all. She’s always grinning and waving to people and she’s always got that huge bag on her back.’
Ryan was jumpy. Having first looked around to reassure himself there were no more passers-by, he set off up the steep track behind the bench, with Megan close behind.
They followed the narrow track as it wound its way around the trees, until they came across a wooden signpost. Carved on the post were the words: To the WATCHTOWER.
Ryan set off in the direction of the arrow. ‘Not far now,’ he announced.
Megan followed warily, her eyes ever watchful for the big cat. It was not until they reached the highest part of the woods, where the land flattened out, that Ryan came to a stop. ‘Be very quiet now,’ he whispered. ‘We’re heading over there.’
Megan followed his gaze. In the distance was a small cylindrical stone tower that had become darkened and brown with age. It was standing alone in the centre of a cleared patch of ground. ‘What is it?’ asked Megan.
Ryan stooped down to pick up a red cigarette packet that someone had carelessly thrown away. He stuffed it angrily into his pocket before he replied. ‘It’s a disused watchtower,’ he said confidently. ‘It was built years ago by the Squire of Oakton Hall, so he could watch the wildlife.’
Megan stared at the distant tower. ‘You mean a sort of bird hide?’ she asked.
‘Sort of,’ said Ryan.
‘It was about here that I first saw it,’ he added.
‘Saw what?’ asked Megan.
‘The red snow,’ said Ryan. ‘There was a trail of blood leading to the tower.’
Megan was becoming alarmed. ‘Whose blood was it?’
But Ryan didn’t answer. ‘This way,’ he whispered as he set off towards the tower.
‘When we get there Megan, keep near me and don’t make any sudden noises.’
Although she was intrigued, Megan asked no more questions. She followed Ryan as he crept slowly across the cleared grassy area until they came to a point where they could see the arched entrance to the tower. Then Megan drew back. She could hear a strange low growling sound. It seemed to be coming from inside the tower itself.
‘Come on,’ said Ryan. ‘Keep with me.’
As they moved closer to the tower, Megan could see that the entrance was protected by a wrought-iron gate, fastened securely with a heavy padlock. The locked gate meant that it was impossible for a person to enter the tower, but the gap under the gate was big enough for an animal to squeeze through.
Ryan pointed to the gate. ‘There’s a cat inside there,’ he said quietly.
It only took one glance through the bars of the gate to convince Megan that this was no ordinary cat. Staring back at her from within the tower were the same wild golden eyes she had seen the night before, only this time the cat was slightly smaller. She noticed that it had an unusual marking on its forehead that looked vaguely like a letter M and it had dark lines running from its eyes to its ears. With its snarling mouth wide open, its rasping red tongue revealed a row of sharp sabre-like teeth as it hissed and spat in wild fury. Ryan took a small step closer to the bars of the gate. Then POW! It banged one of its huge forepaws loudly down onto the ground and lashed out with its other paw, revealing its long, sharp claws.
Ryan sprang back. ‘It did that when I first found it,’ he said. ‘It scared Skippy so much that she ran off. It took me ages to find her.’
He looked again into the tower. ‘The blood on the snow was from its injured leg,’ he said. ‘It must have dragged itself into the tower, but now I think it’s too weak to come out. It needs a chance to recover. It’ll die if I don’t keep feeding it.’
Megan was shaken by the ferocity of what she had seen. She spoke in a hushed voice.
‘What kind of cat is it?’
Ryan began to unpack his bag. He took out a water bottle, a small carton of milk, a pack of sausages, a plastic bowl and something wrapped in a tea towel. ‘I don’t really know,’ he replied, ‘but I looked it up on the internet and I think it might be something called a wild cat.’ He poured some of the milk into the bowl and added some water. ‘They’re an endangered species,’ he continued ‘and they’re very fierce. They could rip your arm to shreds with those claws. That’s why I bring these.’ He pulled out two pairs of Bill’s long leather gardening gloves from his bag and laid them on the ground.
‘Is this what you’ve been doing every night?’ asked Megan.
‘Grandad would want to know where I was going if I went out in the daytime without Skippy,’ said Ryan, ‘and he would want to know what I was carrying in this bag as well. I only managed to sneak the bag out today because he was reading the paper.’
Megan was still puzzled. ‘Why don’t you just tell Uncle Bill you’ve found a cat? He loves animals.’
Ryan sighed. ‘Megan this is not an ordinary cat. If people find out there are big cats here, they’ll be hunted. It’s an endangered species and it’s got to be kept secret. No-one must find out.’
‘But Ryan, they’re dangerous. You shouldn’t …’ But her words were cut short when she saw Ryan taking a small knife from
inside the tea towel.
‘Don’t worry. It’s only an old kitchen knife,’ said Ryan. ‘I use it to cut the sausages into small pieces on the bench, so when I get up here, all I have to do is put on the gloves and throw the pieces of sausage through the bars into the tower. I couldn’t cut them up on the bench today, because someone might see me.’ He could see by Megan’s face that she still didn’t understand. ‘It’s a wild animal,’ he said. ‘It gets stressed when people are nearby, so I try to be as quick as I can when I’m here.’
Ryan seemed to know what he was doing, but the sound of the cat’s low menacing growl in the background was making Megan feel nervous.
‘I’m trying a new bowl,’ said Ryan, standing up. ‘The saucer I’ve been using doesn’t hold much liquid, so I needed something bigger.’
Megan could hear the growling getting louder and louder, as Ryan moved back towards the tower, carrying the gloves and the bowl of milk. She thought it sounded like a lion. It was the fiercest thing she had ever seen.
Megan watched anxiously as Ryan put on both pairs of gloves and slowly, very slowly, slid the bowl under the iron gate, towards the growling cat. There was a brief silence before it pounced. Its long horn-coloured talons shot through the bars towards Ryan’s gloved hand, tearing into the leather with a sickening scraping sound. It then fell back as if exhausted and bit the rim of the bowl with its sabre-like teeth, spilling most of the milk onto its body as it did so. Ryan gave a shout and leapt back to safety, pulling off the gloves to examine his hand. There were red marks on his skin, but luckily the claws hadn’t cut deep enough to draw blood. He sighed heavily and shook his head. ‘I should have known it would tip the bowl.’
Megan waited a moment before she dared to creep close enough to peer into the tower once more. ‘Look Ryan,’ she said softly. ‘It’s licking the milk.’
Standing at a safe distance, both of them watched as the cat licked the milk from its body and then lapped up the little drops of milk left in the bowl.
‘It must be starving,’ said Megan ‘Where are the sausages?’
‘Be careful,’ warned Ryan passing her the packet. ‘It attacks the food as soon as it sees it.’ He threw her the gloves. ‘Better put these on just in case.’
Megan looked at them ‘They’re too big for me,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a good aim. I’ll throw the sausages in from a safe distance.’
‘Let me do it,’ offered Ryan.
Megan shook her head. ‘No. I want to try.’
There was something about this savage creature that Megan admired. It saddened her to think that something so wild and free wasn’t strong enough to get out and feed itself.
Tearing open the pack of sausages, she took the knife and carefully cut the sausages into small pieces before carrying them towards the tower.
‘Don’t throw them all in,’ warned Ryan. ‘You never know when we might need some meat!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Megan.
‘We might meet the cat you saw last night,’ said Ryan.
His words sent a shiver down Megan’s spine. If this cat was fierce, then the bigger cat was likely to be even fiercer.
She could hear the cat in the tower hissing and spitting as she drew near. Taking a deep breath, she threw most of the sausages in through the bars of the gate as quickly as she could. Ryan was right, the cat fell on the food in a flash, devouring it instantly with a loud whirring growl. Megan stood back and waited until the cat had finished, before venturing forward to take another look. As she stared into the tower, her eyes became adjusted to the dimness. The cat had now backed up against the far wall of the tower and was crouched underneath what looked like a small wooden seat. It was sitting on something that resembled an old sack, but Megan could see something else. ‘Ryan,’ she called urgently. ‘Come and look at this.’
On closer inspection, they could see that the sacking was actually a bag of some kind. It looked like the cat had clawed at it to make some bedding. Ryan went to get his torch and shone it into the tower. The cat began to hiss and spit again as the light shone onto its face. But there was no mistaking it. There was something in the bag. They could see a piece of material peeping out, but there was something larger and more solid underneath.
‘There’s no way we can get the bag out with the cat still in there,’ declared Ryan, ‘and anyway it’s probably too far away for us to reach it through the bars.’
Megan was puzzled. ‘How did it get in there? The gate has a lock on it.’ She pulled at the gate to test it and the cat lunged forward again with its huge paws, hissing and spitting with fury. They both leapt back in alarm. The golden eyes of the cat, with their deep fathomless black pupils, were now fixed on them with a steely stare.
‘I’ll have to leave the bowl with the cat,’ said Ryan trying to be more light-hearted. ‘There’s no way I’m going to reach into that tower again in a hurry.’ He laughed nervously, but Megan didn’t respond. She was looking back into the tower. She was still feeling sorry for the cat. Although technically it could get out of the tower, it was too weak and sick to break out of its prison.
‘The cat I saw last night was much bigger than this one,’ said Megan eventually.
Ryan looked worried. ‘How big?’
‘At least as big as a small panther,’ she replied.
‘Perhaps the one you saw is the bigger male cat and the one in the tower is a female,’ suggested Ryan.
As they walked back down the path, Megan tried to find out what Ryan knew about wild cats, but it turned out he didn’t know very much.
‘They’re usually found in the Highlands of Scotland,’ he said, ‘They’re much bigger and fiercer than domestic cats.’
‘How did they get here?’ she asked. ‘Yorkshire’s a long way from Scotland.’
‘Someone must have brought them here,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘But the question is… who, and why?’ He paused. ‘And I’ll tell you what else I’m wondering about,’ he added. ‘I’m wondering what’s in that bag and I’m wondering when and how it got there.’
3
Storm
Once they reached the bench, Megan expected to walk back the way they had come, so she was surprised when Ryan set off in the opposite direction towards the woodyard.
‘We need to take the short cut to the Hall,’ he declared. ‘It’ll take too long to go back the way we came. Come on.’
Megan called after him. ‘I think that way comes out on the York Road. That’s not a short cut.’
‘I know another way,’ he called back. ‘I’ve been before with Skippy. There’s a footpath at the side of one of those gatehouses near the woodyard. It leads straight to the Hall.’
Megan was reluctant to follow him. She didn’t really want to meet Irene again, but with the threat of a wild cat on the loose, she wasn’t about to leave Ryan’s side, no matter where he was going.
A strong wind was now blowing through the woods, bending the tall pine trees with violent gusts. Megan pulled up the hood of her jacket and began to wish she was wearing her white padded coat.
It wasn’t long before they reached the woodyard. The snow on the ground had almost melted now, but there were still traces of snow on the piles of logs. Ryan glanced at one of the large logs as they hurried past the entrance to the yard, but then made a sudden stop.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Tracks,’ said Ryan, pointing to the log. ‘Look. Those are from a very large animal. Look at the size of those paws and look how far apart they are.’
Megan stared incredulously at the large paw marks in the snow. She felt a fear rising in the pit of her stomach. ‘It’s the big cat,’ she said. ‘It’s been in the woodyard.’
Ryan reached out and gently touched her arm. ‘Let’s go,’ he said softly.
Keeping on high alert, they finally approached the stone archwa
y that linked the two gatehouses. Megan was relieved to see there was no car outside. There was no garage, so she felt she could safely assume that Irene was out. However, as they walked past the high hedges of Irene’s garden, Megan had an uneasy feeling. It was the same feeling she had experienced in Irene’s sitting room the night before. In the back of her mind she had a faint memory of walking through a gate into this garden and yet she could see no gate. But as they turned the corner to walk round the back of the house, the gate came into view. It was just as she remembered it; a tall wooden gate now blowing open and shut in the wind. As they approached the swinging gate, Ryan’s curiosity got the better of him. He held the gate open and peered inside.
‘Don’t go in there Ryan,’ warned Megan, ‘it’s trespassing.’
But Ryan was already inside the garden, shouting to her above the sound of the roaring wind. ‘There’s some big cages in here Megan … Come and look!’
Ryan was becoming very excited, but all Megan could think about was what Irene might say if she found them in her garden. She held back for a while until she could no longer resist Ryan’s calls, but she wasn’t prepared for what she actually saw. There were two very large animal pens in the garden. They had wooden frames with wire netting around them and roofs covered with plastic sheeting. Each pen had a strong wooden box at one end, with what looked like straw inside. The ground in the pens was grassy with a few sticks, a couple of logs and a few small rocks scattered here and there. Each had a door that was propped open. But what shocked Megan the most was the piece of red raw meat, dangling from the roof of each pen, swaying gruesomely in the wind. With their eyes transfixed on this grisly sight, Ryan and Megan moved closer to the pens, until another gust of wind slammed the gate shut again. Megan glanced round anxiously. ‘We need to go Ryan,’ she pleaded. But Ryan ignored her. He was still very excited, shouting even louder above the sound of the worsening storm. ‘The wild cats are kept here!’ he yelled triumphantly. ‘This is where they’ve escaped from.’
CRASH!
They spun round as another violent gust of wind blew over two large bins by the back door. They only turned away for a split second, but that was all it took for the wild cat to spring over the gate and land softly inside the garden.
Red Snow Page 3