by Andy Tilley
‘That Cristian has everything to do with everything. Isolation is the key to all this you see. For a silkie to emerge, flawless and pure, the ascension has to happen away from all other lives. The only two souls involved can be yours and, well Rapunzel’s. Finding a location is simple enough and it’s fine to go all the way out to Sule Skerry say, miles from anywhere, but if you’re simply stood on the rocks then the chances are that there’s going to hundreds of small but potential impurities crawling around nearby. Same goes for the jungle, the desert even. That’s why the silkies use towers for this. Okay, you’ll be going to a light house in order to get at least a hundred feet from the ground but if we were sat in China right now you’d be on your way to somewhere like the White Tower at Liao-yang. In the Ukraine your destination might be the Krisco Tower at Kafa say, or if you fancied somewhere a bit warmer, how about the pyramids of the Sudan. That’s where Rapunzel will be. High in a tower, miles from anywhere, pure and ready.’
‘You keep saying Rapunzel but what does she represent?’
‘She doesn’t represent anything Cristian, she’s real. She might be a he for that matter, a person carefully chosen by Setantii and taken to that light house on a remote Scottish island to wait for you. And when you go there, when you’ve finished honing your skills on the mice that Setantii no doubt has with her, then you will ascend the tower and, if you choose, use Rapunzel and lure out the silkie inside you to take flight and feed.’
He’s serious about this. He means what he says. That I am expected not only to sacrifice my life so that Setantii’s line will continue but take the life of another, completely innocent human being with me. My god! If there was the slimmest of chances that I would consider going through with this madness then that’s been totally wiped out by the idea that my last act as a human would be to murder another. There’s no more to be said. My decision is made and all I want to do now is get back to Hartford Manor and spend some time alone waiting for the silkie to. Only when this evil inside me is dead can be sure that any plan of attack is mine and mine alone. The last thing I need is the dying remnants of some double dealing entity influencing any ideas that I may have. That’s when I will contact Jack again and ask his advice, when it’s definitely dead. I stand slowly. Jack stands too and follows me out.
Neither of us has said a word and my hand is on the car door handle before our silence is broken. I explain that I don’t much feel like having a pint anymore. I think Jack understands although it’s difficult for him to hide his disappointment. His attitude angers me at first but I quickly forgive him. After all, none of this is new to him and what’s more, Jack made the right decision and was brave enough to defy Setantii at the very last. I can only imagine the rage she must have been in, so close to finally rearing her first offspring. Still, at least she had the integrity to accept Jack’s decision, as she has promised to accept mine. The day has warmed, melted the frost and cleared the mist and Lyme Hall, although still impressive, looks a shadow of the magical palace it had been less than an hour ago. Jack steps down from the car, waits and waves whilst I turn around before turning to go back to work. I watch him in the rear view mirror and I‘m not ashamed to admit to myself that I’m going to miss my new found and dependable friend. I’ll call him in a week or so, as we agreed. The park has people in it now, midday dog walkers mainly and I have to brake sharply as I exit one blind bend to avoid hitting a young girl who is struggling to control her Alsatian in the middle of the road. I stop, wait and watch and I’m thinking about offering her my help when the dog finally manages to slip his leash and bolt toward the car. He isn’t stopping either, no matter how hard she screams after him. Not until he reaches the car that is. Now he does stop. Sits down less than a cars length away. Sits and stares at me. There’s fire in his eyes.
‘Shit!’
The dog is up and running now, slipping past me and heading for the hall. There isn’t room to turn the car around on this narrow tarmac strip. The quickest way to get in pursuit is to drive through the trees. I can clip corners this way too, take a more direct line. The ground is firm enough, still crisp in here, holding well (rutted as it is) and with all four wheels driving the steering is sure. I can see the dog ahead, tracking the road, not so sure about the direction he has to take, unable to see the hall from his low view point. Good, this gives me a chance of beating him to Jack. I have to concentrate though, grip the steering wheel tightly as route one bounces me back out of the trees. For a short time I can accelerate hard across the tarmac. The extra speed is needed too, flinging me across a shallow ditch on the far side, dropping me back into the woods down a steep slope. My head cracks the roof, my feet are flailing around searching for the pedals, finding the brakes only just in time to jab them, turn and then sharply again but I can’t kill my speed quickly enough and a third oak has me beat. Beneath its thawing branches lies a thick mulch carpet that slides the rear end of the Rover around, slamming it into the trunk. My shoulder cracks the side window and my head follows through, shattering it completely. Where the hell are the air bags! But I’m okay and the car is okay and the engine is still running and I’m okay to carry on. Not through these woods though. Shit, I’ve only managed to negotiate a third of them and already I’m a bloody mess! Get real Cristian! Leave all this macho bullshit to the professionals. Yes, the best chance I have of reaching Jack in one piece is to get back on the road. I should have done this from the off. My speed is twice that achieved in the woodland and I arrive outside Lyme Hall just as the dog is romping in through the front door.
Only a short dash across the forecourt and I’m inside. The place is bedlam; Amanda torn between the phone in her hand, her duty to the desk and the safety of the world outside the front door.
‘Amanda! Phone the police and phone an ambulance!’
The chaos brought by the dog has filled the corridor with all kinds of reactions; some frozen, some screaming, some sprinting toward the conservatory. Negotiating my way through this confusion (clipping the occasional shoulder) doesn’t sap too much pace but it might have well had because the door of the Sunshine Room is blocked completely by a white wall three coats deep, doctors and nurses staring into the well lit horror on the other side.
‘What the hell are you doing! Get in there!’
A younger porter at the front of the crush continues to slap the reinforced glass and rattle the door handle as he screams back at me.
‘I’m trying for fuck’s sake! The door is locked from the inside! Barbara please! Don’t be scared and open the door Barbara! Please!!’
Barbara’s mind has been slammed more firmly shut than the door. She isn’t going to open either for a while. Setantii has made sure of that. The woman’s face is nothing more than a mask of humanity staring vacantly back at the crowd outside; nurse turned to nutter by one sharp slice of a silkie tongue. Over her shoulder I can see Jack. He’s fighting hard, desperately defending himself but it can only be a matter of time before the savage strength and speed of the dog over powers him completely.
‘Is there another way in?’
‘No, this is it. Barbara please!’
‘Keep talking to her and keep trying! Just keep trying! I’ll go around the side.’
I’m thinking whilst I’m running, trying to recall how the windows are built. All I can remember is that there is a heavy mesh covering them on the inside but I‘m pretty sure too that it only reaches up six feet or so. Yes, I am sure of it so if I can knock out the glass from one of the higher pains then I should be able to scramble inside. It’s a good plan and would have worked perfectly were it not for the fact that these sash windows are period, made from sturdy hard wood frames and each square of glass in them is less than eight inches wide. I know I’ll never get through but still I balance on the stone ledge and smash a row of them out throwing shards into the room and releasing sharper screams from it. These are Jack’s screams ripped out of him from a demon dog that has all but finished his work for the day. The inmates are standi
ng and watching, occasionally clapping, unable to understand what is happening. There’s a man stood near the window though and the noise I have made turns him around.
‘Hey you! Yes you. Come here. It’s okay, it’s only a game but Doctor Jack wants you to help him win. Would you like to help Doctor Jack beat the dog?’
Arms jammed through the window frame I beckon him over and he comes to me, not once questioning who I am but seemingly pleased that he’s been asked to help. I want to shout encouragement for Jack, tell him we’re coming but I can’t in case the patient takes flight. He’s close to the window now and I can lower my voice a notch or two.
‘Look there, on the floor by your feet. That’s right, there’s some glass. Can you see it? Good. Well I think it would be great if you picked up one of those big sharp pieces and then stabbed the dog with it to make him stop hurting Doctor Jack. Do you think you can do that for Doctor Jack?’
Painfully slowly the man bends down and selects a piece of glass. He stands and offers it to me. I want to reach in just a little further and throttle some sense in to him but I manage to keep calm and once more explain to him slowly what I want him to do. This time he understands, turns around and begins a slow tortuous shuffle toward the fight. I hold my breath, not at all sure what this simple man is capable of but when he finally gets to within striking distance of the animal I have my answer.
‘Jesus! Okay, that’s enough now!’
The first slash at the Alsatians spine had probably been sufficient. The second probably justified to make sure that the animal was dead as Jack pushes him away but the third and fourth and fifth strikes, plunged deep into the dog’s belly? Well, quite simply they were as sick as the mind that delivered them. Still, the plan had worked; Jack is very bloodied but I think he’s going to be okay. He’s managed to get onto his knees at least and stay there, sucking hard to get oxygen back into his over stressed body.
‘Jack are you okay?’
He can’t speak yet but he can raise one hand and a sort of smile.
‘Christ Jack, that was scary! Listen, you get yourself cleaned up and we’ll go and get that pint yeah?’
Jack raises his face to me and laughs, as best as he can.
It’s a memory that I will always carry with me. My final memory of a man who I had known less than three hours but whose death will leave a huge hole in whatever life I am to have. I didn’t watch the end. I had been surprised by the first strike to his throat, unable to react quickly enough as it was gashed by a glass wielding mad man with fire in his eyes. As the second had rained in I was already dropping from the ledge and onto the floor, covering my eyes and ears to shut out the third, fourth and god knows how many more butcher cuts that followed.
Chapter 20
Omnipotent? I guess not or they would be gods.
Omnipresent? No, too good at hiding to be everywhere. Silkies are neither of these things.
But they are powerful enough so as to be unassailable and they are in every place that they need to be.
I realize this now, that the decision isn’t mine to remain human or to become silkie. The decision is Setantii’s for me to either die by her vengeance or be devoured by her offspring. I am doomed, and there is no escaping this fact. That’s why Setantii sent me to Jack. Not for me to hear what he had to say about the decision he had made twenty five years ago but for me to witness the consequences of it. That was why Jack had been allowed to live for so long after killing Setantii’s fledgling; because she knew that one day an example would have to be made. And this isn’t just about my life either. Silkies control, it is their nature and if somebody dare challenges them then they will unleash hell. And not just on the brave soul who defied or tried to harm them either, but on their loved ones too.
Rose isn’t safe. She will never be safe whilst I am alive. And if I am to die anyway then I should do everything possible to make sure that Rose will be left alone by the silkie once I am gone. So I will surrender to Setantii, tomorrow on Sule Skerry, but not before she has given me this promise.
The hand in mine is the same as the last time that I held it; warm and still.
‘Rose it’s me, Cristian.’
I know she can’t answer me. I’m not sure she can hear my words either. I have to say them though, pray that they do get through, perhaps wait somewhere inside for her to find one day.
‘Listen love, I don’t have much time. I have to leave soon and,…’
The words choke me. Over and over they had played in my mind on the way to the hospital but they refuse to be heard now as if the act of releasing these thoughts makes them irrevocable. But that’s exactly what they are and they must be said, however quietly.
‘I won’t ever see you again Rose.’
The pain is unbearable but I’ve seen what will happen if I try and stay by her side.
‘But I want you to know Rose that no matter where I am I will always love you for as long as I can.’
(Don’t leave me Cristian! I love you too!)
I can’t bring myself to tell her that the love I have, immense as it is, has only two days to cherish her. For Cristian Chevalier Sule Skerry waits and it is there that I will cease to exist, give myself over to a being that knows nothing of love or of the sacrifice that I will make in its name. For the last time I say goodbye, lean closer and kiss my Snow White. She doesn’t awaken though because there can be no fairytale ending to this tragedy.
‘I’m sorry my love, but I hope that one day you will think of us and smile. Goodbye darling.’
(No Cristian! Talk to Uncle John! He has a plan, a plan to keep me safe and it might be able to save you too! Please, just talk to John!)
I place her hand gently back by her side. If I could have one thing now it would be to feel its soft squeeze to let me know that she has understood. Scholars will tell us that words are powerful and mighty but when it comes to love they are weak and useless. One touch or glance to connect me back to her, however brief, could have replaced everything that I’ve just tried to say.
As I turn my back on Rose and leave her side for ever, my life is already ended.
Chapter 21
Jonathon Stevens has had enough. His sister is still missing and as far as he can tell the local plod have all but given up on her, written her off as dead and passed responsibility for finding her corpse over to the Manchester detectives; the ‘proper coppers’ as Jonathan likes to call the metropolitan force, especially when speaking to PC Tom Young.
Jonathon’s frustration over this situation had built gradually during the days since losing Ruby but earlier today, as he sat fidgeting and trying to listen to the last college lecture on his timetable, something had snapped. Slamming books closed, storming out of applied physics (offering no explanation to his tutor or classmates) Jonathon had headed straight for the police station intent on letting the village plod know exactly what he thought; that their lethargy bordered on negligence, their failure to find Ruby was nothing less than incompetence. Jonathon should have been in good time to catch PC Young too but as he stormed inside the desk sergeant who greeted him compounded the young man’s disgust by telling him that Tom had left work early. Typical! Beryl did add though, that if he hurried, he could probably catch Tom in the rear car park. As Jonathon had dashed back outside and around the building he had passed an open window, spotted Tom at his desk and stopped to listen in on the phone call that the police man was engrossed in.
The few words that Jonathon Stevens had managed to grasp then (stood shaking by that open window, shielding one ear from the rush hour traffic) were the reason why he’s now crouched down (as quietly as his fear and hate will allow) behind a vine torn brick wall outside a derelict building deep inside the midnight woods of Hartford Manor. He’s eaves dropping again, this time on two men that are huddled less than twenty paces away, cloaked in moon shadows next to what appears to be a large tool shed. The building is a lot newer than the deserted house where Jonathon hides and it has a ridiculously strong
, suspicious looking black, steel door. The men are very agitated. They are talking about his sister. They are talking about Ruby Stevens and in the present tense too.
‘So did he mention how long it might be before the girl will be brought here then?’
‘Tom, how many times do I have to tell you? No, he didn’t! We just have to wait, check and make sure everything is ready, just like we have every done other month for the past two years!’