Flee

by Caroline Clark

  The night was dark but fine. He could feel the storm behind him, and wondered if Aldona had invoked it to help his cause. Soon he would be coming to the bypass. He knew Simon lived on the other side of Lincoln, but did not know the address. He could not afford this to slow him down. He was about half a mile from the bypass, and the scenery rushing past was still agricultural. There was field after boring field of either corn or potatoes. Even in the dark the landscape was tedious. It was nothing like the rolling hills and gentle meadows near his home. He wondered if he would ever be able to return to that home, and the thought caused an ache of pain.

  He always knew it would be difficult with Sophie, James and his little cutie Sara. How do you explain that Daddy was no longer, a good looking trendy fifty-four, but was, in fact, now a vibrant twenty-year-old? Sophie was especially going to be a problem. He had groomed her to distrust magic, helping secure his cover all these years. She was bright as well. She would find out about the ritual, and then, well the meddlesome woman would be trouble. Should he kill her? This question had bugged him for the past few years. It had taken magic to get her, the spell wearing her down over time. He still was not sure if he released it whether she would still love him. The holiday away from him for two weeks would release the spell, and could see her not coming back. But she loved the kids, and firmly believed in families. No, she would not leave him for herself. She would think about the children. Maybe he could send a message to her telling her to stay, and just send the kids back to him? He knew she would never fall for that. He could kill her, as long as the kids didn’t see. After all, he would want a younger mate to cope with his new body. He hoped he would gain the muscles that Simon had. Not the sissy blonde hair though.

  Bringing his mind back to the present problem, he looked across at Jenny. She was motionless in the seat next to him. Pulling the car over into a lay-by he switched off the engine, and turned towards her.

  “Well darling, we need to talk.”

  He had his left leg lifted up onto the driver’s seat, his head on his arm, a studious expression on his face. “

  Please don’t fight me. I will force you to talk if I need to, but that will be painful, we don’t want that now do we.”

  He raised his eyebrows, grinning as if this was a big conspiracy between them. Lips pursed, he nodded. “Yeah, Yeah.” Waving his hand, he said, “Dimittam lingua vestra.”

  * * *

  Jenny felt her jaw relax. She was able to move it, and she worked the muscles, rolling her tongue around in her mouth. She tested her neck. It was still frozen, along with her arms, shoulders and the rest of her body.

  “I have to visit the bathroom.” She knew this was weak, but it was the best she could think of.

  “Good, the sooner we get to Simon’s the better then. By the way, if you pee in my car I may get antsy.” He laughed, and waved a finger back and forward at her. “You must ask Doris about a funny story about wanting a wee. Oh sorry, you won’t see her again.”

  “Damn it, Robert, I trusted you. What have you done?”

  He shoved his fist into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head, and mimicking her voice. “Oh, Robert, what have you done?” Returning to his own voice, and removing his hand, he grabbed her throat, crushing the larynx. Squeezing tight, he watched as the blood rushed out of her face, leaving her as white as paper.

  She gasped against his fingers, tears forming in her eyes.

  “Done? What have I done? I want to live forever, just like your dad.” He pushed her away from him, watching as the color returned to her face. She coughed and spluttered, the noise sounding strange from her immobile form.

  “Besides,” he said, “Look at my nose and teeth from that stupid dog of yours. I wish I had thrown the flea-bitten mutt down the pit. I only kept her to feed to Fluffy.”

  He looked out of the window, fighting to control his anger. “Now, your birthday is tomorrow at two a.m. We have plenty of time, but those pesky people will be coming after us. Damn it, you will tell me where to go or I will break both your legs.” His face was red as he leaned away from her, knowing he was close to breaking. If he lost his temper and killed her now, it would be a disaster. He had done that once, when he brought a small, shivering girl back to the cellar. She had taken one look at Fluffy, and had started to scream. And scream and scream and scream. He had shaken her, threatened her. Finally losing his temper, he struck out, knocking her back, and she landed on a metal bar. It was part of the structure he was constructing at the time, the cross piece not yet in place. The bar had impaled her through her left side. The look on her face still sent shivers down his spine. It was delicious. Of course, he had been unable to sacrifice her, but still he remembered.

  The shock as the two-inch bar punched through her flesh transformed her. Her eyes flew open, a scream ripped from her throat. Slowly she had fallen further onto that bar. She had looked up at him, her eyes begging him to help. He watched as she slipped down the bar, inch by bloody inch. Saw the blood burst from her mouth, splashing down on her face as her left lung was pierced. She had scrabbled frantically with her arms, trying to reach the bar.

  It had taken her almost an hour to die, her pleas getting weaker the further she slipped down that bar. Eventually, she was on the floor, her legs bent underneath, and her arms still weakly trying to prevent the inevitable. Towards the end, her words burbled as she drowned in her own blood, he was surprised she never cried. She screamed for England, but there was not one single tear.

  Once she was dead, he had rushed from the cellar, grabbing Sophie from the living room. He had thrown her onto the bed and screwed her brains out imagining the face of the little girl in the cellar. He had been insatiable, having to hold Sophie with magic to allow him to pound into her again and again. After he had finished, she was sore and bleeding. He covered up his damage by erasing her memory and giving her a dose of cystitis. A death always left him feeling sexy. The circle of life and death. Seeing one snuffed out made the other so much more intense. His wife would never agree with some of his more deviant practices, but with a little magical encouragement, and a little memory spell, she was smoking.

  He had kept the bar in the cellar for several months, trying all different animals out on it, but nothing could recreate the feeling the little lost girl had given him. Closing his eyes for an instant, he thanked her.

  At last calm, he returned to Jenny. “Tell me or I’ll force you, and it will hurt.”

  “You have to be kidding. You can kill me first.”

  “No, I will kill you after.” He laughed at his own humor. “Silentium,” he whispered. Looking towards her, he concentrated, focusing his thoughts on her mind and Simon’s address. He saw the sweat appear on her skin, pinpricks of moisture that burst, and rolled down her face as he applied more pressure to her mind.

  She struggled against him, keeping him out for long seconds. He could feel her screams of pain inside his head. He tried to ignore them, and applied more pressure, his own brows knit tight with the effort. She was singing in her head, some stupid song about that dog, one hundred brindle boxer dogs sitting on a wall, if one brindle boxer dog should accidentally fall...

  He pushed harder, ninety-nine, brindle boxer dogs… Even harder. Sweat was pouring off his own skin, running down his face. It tickled.

  Ninety-eight, brindle boxer dogs sitting on a …

  He gave one huge push, and she screamed inside and he got it. A map appeared in his mind. Around the bypass, yes, he knew the road. It should be easy to find. And remote, if the geeks don’t work out where he was going, no one would disturb them.

  Pulling out of her mind, relief flooded his face. Just as he did so, he felt her slip into unconsciousness. “At last, peace.”

  He released his hold on her. She was out cold, and he could rest a while, rebuilding his energy while she slept.

  He turned around into the driver’s seat looking out at the sleeping city before him. It was a pretty place at night, the cathedral’s th
ree towers dominating the landscape. Illuminated by floodlights they were a magnificent sight. Taking a deep breath and still tasting blood from that bloody dog, he pushed the gear lever into drive. Steering the car back out onto the road, they were soon speeding towards the bypass, and then on to Wyleford Woods.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Robert drove from the map in his mind, slowing his speed on the country lanes. He passed a garden center on his left, and approached a ninety-degree bend to the right. Behind it was a house, stark white on the shores of a lake. It looked lonely, deserted.

  Then he was back on a straight. Neat hawthorn hedges on each side of the road focused the powerful headlights of the Mercedes and he increased his speed, surprised at how good the map in his mind was. They would soon be there and, with any luck, the meddling threesome would still be statues in his house. He giggled, imagining the scene if the police arrived to find them there, rock solid. That would get the old plod thinking.

  They sped across a crossroads, and approached a village. Village, he thought laughing. It was just a few houses. He stabbed the breaks, and the bonnet dipped in response. They were getting close. He had to take the third turn on the right, then down a single-track lane to the left.

  One he counted as the car sped past a small road, two slowing, not far now. Ahead he saw a tiny road sign. A white post, stuck alone in the ground with an arm pointing right. The arm bore the words Wyleford in black letters.

  “At last,” he said, feeling himself relax. They were so close. He slowed, and turned the car into a narrow road. Glancing at the dashboard clock, he noticed it was five minutes past midnight. He had two hours, just two hours, and it would all be over. The illness, the pain, would be gone, and he would be strong and powerful beyond belief. He kept the car at a slower pace, as the road was not only narrow but bumpy.

  He was looking for a road to the left. He thought it would be a private road, down to Simon’s house only but in the darkness, he couldn’t work out how far he needed to travel.

  The road before him twisted, and snaked away down a gentle hill. He couldn’t see any turnings.

  He looked at Jenny for a second. Could the bitch have tricked him? No, he had felt her fight. Had felt the information ripped from her. It was similar to a wet tearing. He relished the feeling. It was as if he had ripped a piece of her brain from her head. He had felt it clinging on, finally pulling away with a liquid sucking sound, a squelch and rip that had thrilled through him.

  The information so desperate to cling on had finally left her brain. It floated into his own mind, wet and slippery like ten-day old meat. He had savored it, devoured it. He was sure the information was real.

  At last he saw a gap in the hedges just ahead, and he slammed on the breaks, the Mercedes nose-diving to a halt.

  He waited before the entrance, engine idling. He could see nothing down the narrow twisting track. It rose away from the road, and there was a shadow at the edge of the car’s powerful headlights.

  Cautious, he steered onto the track. Ahead of him the path sloped up to some woods. They looked dark and impenetrable from his viewpoint.

  He drove the car slowly, concentrating. He couldn’t feel any danger, but there was no light emerging from the woods. Slowly, he approached the dark mass. He could see where the tarmac entered the forest, but his headlights didn’t penetrate far beyond its shadowy border.

  A dark, ominous fortress stood before him, huge pine trees standing sentinel to the entrance. Just as the car was about to pass into the forest, rain began to fall, creating a mist across his windscreen.

  Robert jumped, cursing himself, and then laughed. It was just nerves. He drove in. The road bent around to the right, the car lighting up pine trees on either side. A rabbit ran out of the undergrowth, caught for a second in his headlights before hopping across in front of the car, and disappearing into the trees. He felt disappointment that he couldn’t squash the creature beneath the Mercedes’ huge wheels.

  Trees lined each side of the car, their bulk preventing him from seeing far into the forest. Their huge trunks were inches from the path, the bark split and cracked with age and weather. He followed the bend, beginning to see a lighter shade in front of him where the woods opened into a clearing.

  He drove the car out of the trees, releasing a breath. He had not realized how tense the trees had made him, it was almost as if they stood guard, and he felt from them an ominous presence. He laughed. His imagination was really getting the better of him. Aldona could use animals to attack someone but even she could not set the forest against him, and soon he would be her initiate, she would protect him and give him her strength, her immortality.

  Rain fell onto the roof, a steady stream now. He could hear it hitting the car as they exited the protection of the forest. The Mercedes single wiper blade cleared his view with each rhythmic sweep.

  Before him was a wonderful sight. He drew in another breath, shocked at the beauty.

  Simon’s house was built in 1820. Constructed of over burnt bricks with the window frames of rough-cut oak, it was a magnificent period house, all the more appealing because of its slightly sinister appearance. The mansion was set on huge rolling lawns, some of which were illuminated by the idling Mercedes headlights. The two outer edges of the house were surrounded by huge rhododendrons. Though not in bloom, their lush green foliage added atmosphere.

  He pushed the accelerator, moving the car towards the house. He could feel excitement building inside him. This was his destiny. Aldona must have arranged this, because from today he intended to live in this mansion. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine as the car drew nearer. In front of the house was a parking area. He continued around the side, and approached the door. It was amazingly small, set in the middle of the building, and surrounded by plants. He recognized persimmons, roses and a few hostas in the border. Glancing forward, he followed the drive along the front of the house. In front of him the grass sloped down to a lake, with a willow tree weeping its branches into the silvered waters. Another thrill of delight shocked through him.

  He turned the wheel to go around the side of the house. As he turned he noticed that the front was a façade, and that the house behind was much more modern. Better and better, he thought, even mod cons.

  He was eager to enter the house and find the seal, but he could feel his strength failing. A huge yawn spread across his face, straining his jaw as he pulled the Mercedes to a halt. Shoving it into park, he turned off the engine, and removed the keyless key.

  He glanced at Jenny, but she was out. Tenderly, he moved a lock of blonde hair from near her right eye. Smoothing her brow, he watched her for a second. She was sleeping. She should not be a problem for a while. Still best be safe, he thought. “Tenere.”

  He decided to rest, to build up his own strength just for twenty minutes before searching for Simon’s seal.

  Leaning back, he reclined his seat and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  Jenny felt his hand, brush her forehead. She wanted to scream but remained still. She had been awake for the past few minutes, and had recognized Simon’s house instantly.

  She could hear Robert as he settled down in the seat. His breathing in the enclosed car seemed loud, but gradually the tone changed as he slipped into sleep.

  She tried to move, tensing her muscles in her head, but nothing happened. Her head was pounding, and the extra effort sent a knife-like pain through her temple. Resting she waited another few minutes and tried again, and this time her left foot moved slightly. She could feel her shoe scraping across the carpet.

  Excited, she kept trying, ignoring the headache and the sweat that ran off her brow. As his breathing slowed, his spell weakened, and she was able to move just a little bit more. Eventually she could move her leg, and at last her lips moved. She almost laughed with relief, stopping the sound at the last second. She listened, keeping still. Robert’s breathing did not change.

  If she could move, she could get away from
him. She knew the area well, could walk to the next village or hide in the woods until after her birthday. She only needed to keep away from him for one and a half hours. Even better, she could smash open his skull with a hammer, and make him pay for killing her mum. A tear slid down her face, but she managed to blink it away. Gradually he was losing control as he slept.

  She worked her toes and legs, each time getting a little more feeling into them. The pain in her head was almost unbearable. She let out a breath, wanting to touch her head, but as yet her arms wouldn’t move. She relaxed, resting for a second, watching the rain fall onto the windscreen, running down and coating the car.

  Robert was still breathing slow and even, and she could feel her legs move. She could raise her knees now. Next she worked on her arms, concentrating on them, feeling as they started to move. Just a twitch at first, but gradually she lifted her left arm. Reaching for the door handle, her hand slipped off and landed on her leg. She screamed inside with the effort to pull the hand back up, and this time it caught on the handle. She pulled. Feeling the catch, she pulled back even further. The door cracked open, the pressure changed in the car, and a refreshing mist drifting into the gap.

  She waited, still, listening, his breathing did not change.

  She leaned on the door. Her body was stiff, and tumbled out as the door opened with a rush. She fell onto the concrete, banging her head, but the spell was released. She rubbed her head, and winced at the pain. The rain was cold on her body, its chill mobilized her. She climbed to her feet, stiff but excited, the pain in her head forgotten. She had to hide quickly to get as far from the car as she could. She turned away from it, tensing to run.

  “Hello dear,” Robert said. He punched her straight in the face. The blow contacted with her right eye, knocking her out.