Irish End Games, Books 4-5-6

by Kiernan-Lewis, Susan

  “Better, Nu,” Fiona said, trying to smile. “And yourself?”

  “Sure, I’m grand. Cook said she’d make a tapioca just for you.”

  “Can I ask you something, Nuala?”

  “Of course.”

  “When did you give up? Stop trying to escape?”

  Nuala sighed heavily. “When the hag threatened me boys.”

  “I thought it might be when you knew you were pregnant.”

  “Maybe. Maybe I started to play it safe when I found out.”

  “I think I’ve felt like I wasn’t pregnant so much as…handicapped. Do you know what I mean?”

  “You never, Fiona!

  Tears sprang to Fiona’s eyes. “What was I waiting for? For someone to come? Did I wait all this time for Declan to come save us?”

  “Sure you had hope, just like the rest of us that rescue would come. Ye can’t be blaming yourself, Fiona. That’s what motherhood does to a person. Ye have something more important than your own life and you’ll protect it at any cost.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? I mean, you do know the babies will all be taken from us—and next time too. Who are we protecting then?”

  “You’re tired, Fiona, and weak from the loss of blood. And losing Bridget, sure that’s a terrible blow for all of us, so it is. Rest now, aye?”

  Fiona nodded and Nuala joined the other women. Someone was knitting a little pink sweater and Nuala held it up and exclaimed over it. Hannah stood at the tent door looking out. Her hand went to her back and supported her spine against the growing weight of her belly. Every single woman in this tent was destined to lose her baby. Maybe not in the way Fiona worried she’d lose hers—in a gush of blood before it’s had a chance at life—but they’d lose them nonetheless. Liddy, who walked so carefully to cushion her baby against the jarring impact of her footsteps; Nuala who stroked her belly continually as if she could give comfort to its little inhabitant; and Mary, who sang to her unborn one as she went about her day—every one of them would lose their babes.

  The fragrance of lavender and citrus wafted across Fiona’s bed. Fecking aromatherapy. Sometimes life in here was just one more day at the spa. No wonder everyone acted like nothing bad was going to happen, like they weren’t going to lose their babies.

  The lie that lived in this tent negated the terrible knowledge of their futures. They all enjoyed good food and music and laughter and the children running about. There were showers with soap and loving friends and sisters to rub tired feet and aching shoulders.

  Fiona tried to imagine the women on the other side of the fence. Was there any possibility that they entertained the same level of fantasy about their futures? If they had children, they had only the memory of their dear faces, not the reality of their voices and laughter. If they didn’t have children, they had nothing.

  From the other side of the fence it must be very difficult to believe life was anything but hell.

  Declan wasn’t coming. Mike wasn’t coming.

  She had waited patiently, growing Declan’s child inside her, taking careful steps, eating well and waiting for the day when they would come. The day someone would come.

  And now as she lay in her bed with tears streaming down the sides of her face onto her pillow, she finally knew—knew in her bones—as well as she knew anything in this world that nobody was coming. Fiona took a long shaking breath.

  Forgive me, Declan.

  She swung her legs out of bed.

  Chapter 46

  Sarah now realized she knew one person more stubborn than herself. Or Mike. In fact, possibly even more stubborn than the two of them combined.

  And that was saying something.

  She stared past the hedgerows that contained the long and wide fields from where she was resting. Sophia carried little Siobhan who didn’t scream the whole day although it certainly felt like it at times. John led the way and Regan brought up the rear with the rifle which, given her brief experience with the weapon gave Sarah very little comfort as she walked in front of her. They kept well away from the roads but followed the snaking, meandering line of the mortarless stonewalls built so many years ago when the rocks were cleared from the pastures.

  Archie had given vague but accurate directions to John at some point. Sarah thanked God for it.

  John had simply refused to leave without her. Sarah either needed to go with them or jeopardize them all. They were now ten hours into the long, arduous, agonizing walk —without doubt the most uncomfortable ten hours of her life, including childbirth. But every painful step and every hour took them further and further away from the compound and the danger it attracted.

  How did that happen? How had it turned from an active community of friends and family to a sign for every thug and bandit to raid? Was it when it became more graveyard than home?

  It didn’t matter. It was what it was. They would be safe at the convent. They would be able to sleep without worry—if Siobhan allowed them that much.

  Sarah just prayed they were going in the right direction.

  **********

  Jaz drove the Jeep to the front of the compound and stopped. All that remained of the gate were splinters of wood on the ground around the ragged hole in the compound wall.

  “This isn’t good,” Tommy said from the seat next to her.

  “They’re not here,” Jaz said. “Something happened. Something bad.” She looked at the men in the back of the Jeep. Two continued to sleep but the others had rallied. Just being free and knowing they’d be home soon had done wonders for them.

  Tommy’s father, Terry, hopped out of the back seat of the Jeep.

  “Drive on through,” he told Jaz. “No sense standing out here. Any answers will be inside.”

  That made sense but Jaz’s scalp prickled as she drove through the broken gate and over the planks of wood. A dark red stain in front of Mike and Sarah’s cottage made her stomach buckle.

  “Everything looks fine,” Tommy said as they drove inside.

  Was he mental? Did he not see the bloodbath someone tried to cover up with a pile of dirt as wide as a Mini Cooper?

  “I don’t like this,” Jaz said. She parked the Jeep but didn’t get out. Something was creeping over her skin like a message that she didn’t want to receive. Her Granny used to say she had the sight but you didn’t have to be clairvoyant to know that something was wrong here

  “I think we should camp out in the woods tonight,” she said.

  “Are you kidding, Jaz?” Tommy said, jumping out of the Jeep. “With beds and cook stoves and food and all right here?”

  “Does the big-arse hole in the front gate suggest anything to you?” Jaz said, her hands on her hips.

  “It says this place has been vacant a long time, that’s all.”

  What about Sarah and the others? They’re supposed to be here.”

  “Help me get the men inside one of the cottages,” Tommy said. “Then I’m going to see if my computers and stuff are still here.”

  Terry emerged from one of the cottages.

  “Sheets on the bed!” he exclaimed. “We’re home!” He went to the Jeep and began helping to move the men from the vehicle to the cottage.

  An hour later, Jaz still wasn’t happy. Terry had made a fire in the center fire pit and they sat around it. They had found the food reserves in the cellars and were able to put together a decent dinner and even a cup of tea for everyone with a shot of whiskey. But Jaz still didn’t like the fact that Sarah wasn’t here when two weeks ago she had been. Why would she leave? Especially since Sarah knew that Mike would be looking for her here? It didn’t make sense. And things that didn’t make sense, made Jaz’s skin crawl.

  “Hey, Jaz, check this this,” Tommy said to her, motioning her away from the fire to the back of the compound.

  “What did you find?” she said as he led her away.

  “Promise you won’t freak out now.”

  “Oy! I rescued you, ye baggage!” Jaz said indignantly.

>   “I found three new graves.”

  Tommy led her to the mounds flanking Siobhan Murray’s grave in her front garden.

  “Who do you think they are?” she asked. They were both recent. But one was very recent.

  “I don’t know. Mike said they buried Kendra when they first got back to the compound. But I don’t know who the other two are.”

  A nervous fear grabbed Jaz by the throat. Could it be Sarah? Or John? Would the same bastards that killed them have buried them?

  That didn’t make sense either.

  “There’s something else,” Tommy said ominously as he led her back to where the gypsies had lived in the compound. The area now was just a patch of grass and dirt where the tents had been.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He walked over to the pigsty. She followed.

  “At least they don’t look like they’re starving,” she said.

  “And no wonder.”

  As soon as he said it she saw a piece of femur sticking out of the mud. Her stomach roiled. A human jaw with teeth still in it was also visible. She grabbed Tommy by the arm.

  “It’s all right, lass,” Tommy said, pulling her close.

  “It’s not all right! Who are they?”

  No, the bastards that killed Sarah and the rest wouldn’t likely bury them but they might feed them to the hogs.

  “It’s not Sarah and them,” Tommy said.

  “And you know this how?”

  “I just know it.”

  “We’re not safe here. We need to go to the woods,” Jaz said.

  “We just got the men settled!”

  “I don’t care! Can’t you see—”

  “Jaz, chill out. You’ve been trying to do it all for a very long time but now I’m here.” He put his arm around her and drew her into his chest. “Time to relax,” he said and kissed her cheek.

  “I don’t know if I can,” she said in a whisper. “I feel like I’ve been on me own so long.”

  “Well, you’re not alone any more. I’m going out to set two of the traps I found in the stables and by this time tomorrow we’ll be eating roast rabbit with cabbages and the world will seem a lot brighter. Can you go make yourself a cuppa and just relax? You’ve earned your rest, lass. Let someone else carry the load for awhile.”

  Jaz took in a long breath and exhaled slowly. He was right. She knew it. She had been seeing monsters under rocks for so long she couldn’t even recognize it when she was finally safe. She handed him their only gun.

  “In case it’s easier just to shoot the bastards instead of trap ‘em,” she said.

  He laughed, took the gun and kissed her again. “I’ll go out the back way. It’s closer to the woods. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

  Chapter 47

  Through the broken gate, Mac could see a Jeep parked in the middle of the compound. He slowed the car, forcing the van behind them to brake suddenly.

  “Why are we stopping?” Sinead asked.

  “That Jeep wasn’t here yesterday.”

  “So?”

  “So it means they have reinforcements.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Drive the damn car through the entrance. Did you forget we have four men with guns? For the love of God, Mac, grow a fecking pair!”

  Mac ground his teeth and accelerated through the gate parking just behind the Jeep. The van came up beside him and the doors flew open. The cottage porch where he’d shot Dickie was to his immediate left. A man was standing and watching them from the cottage porch.

  “Let me handle this,” Mac said to Sinead.

  “By all means.”

  Mac stepped out of the driver’s side of the sedan. “Oy!” he said, forcing a smile as he greeted the man.

  The man descended the steps but he looked worried. As well he might be.

  Mac raised his gun and aimed it at the man just as two men from the van came up to him and pulled their guns on him. The man raised his hands but his eyes flickered to the pathway in front of him.

  “We’re looking for someone,” Mac said cheerfully. “Thought you might be able to help us.”

  “There’s no one here but me.”

  “Oh, really?” Mac said. “Because it looked like you were expecting someone to come walking down that path.”

  As soon as the words were out of Mac’s mouth, a girl appeared from around the corner. She’d been running, her face was flushed pink. As soon as she saw them, she stopped but before she could reverse her steps, Mac shouted to her.

  “Make us chase you and he dies.”

  “Well done, darling,” Sinead said from the car. “I’m getting wet just listening to you.”

  The girl turned to face them. She looked exotic in some way to Mac. Perhaps she was a sister to the girl he’d seen here before.

  One of the men held a gun to the man’s head as Chezzie and another man ran to the girl and dragged her back toward the cars.

  “Be sure and check that she’s not carrying a knife in her boot or whatever,” Sinead said as she got out of the car. “Gypsies are wily.”

  “With pleasure, missus!” One of the men jammed his gun down the front of his pants before frisking her.

  “Tie her up first, you moron,” Sinead said. “She looks like she could kick your teeth down your throat.” She went to the girl as Chezzie wrenched Jaz’s hands behind her and tied her securely.

  “Where are the other women that were here?” Sinead asked.

  The girl spat in Sinead’s face and Mac flinched. Sinead wiped the spittle from her cheek and then backhanded the girl hard, breaking her bottom lip. The gypsy’s dark eyes flared with hatred.

  Sinead turned to Mac. “You said there were four women there. There’s only one and she’s a gypsy,” she said with disgust.

  “Well, obviously, the others ran for it.”

  “If one of them gave birth yesterday, they couldn’t have gone far. Probably in the woods somewhere. No matter. We’ll pick them up on the way back from the convent.

  “Sinead, we need to get back to camp,” Mac said. “I don’t like being gone this long.”

  “I don’t care what you like. We’re finishing this, Mac. Two hours to the convent, grab any women there, and another two back through the woods for the ones you missed yesterday. We’ll be home before lunchtime. Throw her in the van. You can have a piece as we drive.”

  Chezzie dragged the girl to the van.

  “No!” Mac said. “Nobody touches her. Do you understand?” He glared at the four men facing him by the van. “You two ride in the sedan with me and Sinead. The girl stays in the back by herself.”

  “Playing Sir Lancelot, darlin’?” Sinead said as she watched them shove the girl in the back of the van and lock the door. “It doesn’t suit you. She’ll be rogered every way to Sunday before the weekend. You know that.”

  “Not in the back of a truck by a bunch of animals.”

  “Because that would be rape, right?”

  “I’m just not allowing it.”

  “Whatever.” She clapped her hands to get the men’s attention. “We’re in a hurry so listen up. When we get there, you can do what you want to the women as long as they’re taken alive.”

  “Even the nuns?” Chezzie asked.

  “Especially the nuns,” Sinead said as she walked back to the car.

  “What about him?” One of the men pointed to the man still standing on the porch.

  Sinead shrugged. “Shoot him,” she said. “Then burn the place.”

  Chapter 48

  It looked like the post-apocalyptic version of Southern Living meets Downton Abbey, Sarah thought as she looked down at the stone convent and its gardens. Wisteria and honeysuckle hung on ancient vines around the centuries old stone archway leading to the convent’s main entrance. How they found it could only be attributed to the angelic presence of Archie combined with her son’s uncanny powers of observation.

  “Cor, it really does exist,” Regan said in a hushed whisper. Sh
e carried the baby and it had just fallen asleep. “Me mum used to tell me scary stories about it when I was little.”

  “Scary stories?” Sarah said, leaning against the stonewall at the entrance. “About a convent?”

  “Aye, sure. I don’t know how the good sisters are where you come from Sarah but in Ireland, they’re something wicked scary.”

  Sophia stepped through the archway and looked back at the others. “Is it even inhabited, do we know?”

  “Let’s ask him,” Johns said as a tall, broad-shouldered young man materialized in the archway. He had thick brown wavy hair and crystal blue eyes. But there was something about him that looked more confused than threatening.

  “Mother Angelina says you’re to come in and welcome,” he said in a thick Irish brogue.

  “Are you expecting us?” Sarah said with a smile as she walked through the archway.

  “Sorry?” He didn’t wait for clarification but turned to lead them the rest of the way in.

  A high wrought iron gate opened into a formal garden but it was planted with food, not flowers. Three nuns in dark habits worked in the garden. They didn’t look up as the visitors passed. At the end of the garden path was a massive wooden double door and standing in front was a nun with a white starched headdress.

  “Welcome,” she called to them, her smile sincere if questioning. “Thank you, Garrett. Tell Sister Ambrose there’ll be four more for dinner.”

  The man lumbered quietly away through the garden.

  “Thank you so much,” Sarah said. “We’re sorry to just barge in on you like this.”

  “It’s been a few years since we’ve had guests,” the nun said. “And never Americans. I imagine something’s happened in the world? Never mind, you can tell us all about it at dinner. Right now, I see you’re worn out. And a little one?” She peeked into the sling that Regan wore and beamed at the baby. “Oh, my. Hours old?” She looked up and her smile turned into concern. “You are running away?”

  “I fear we are, Mother,” Sarah said. “Thank you for your sanctuary.”