Running

by S. Bryce

  ‘Alden wouldn’t have taken it,’ I say decisively. ‘He’s nice like you said, and besides I don’t think he’d come here.’

  ‘He was here before,’ Tosh says, quieting a little. He wipes away a drip of snot from under his nose.

  ‘When?’

  ‘I saw him on the lawn earlier. He waved at me.’

  ‘There was no one on the lawn earlier on,’ I say irritably. ‘I checked.’

  I peer absently out of our back window, and then I venture over to the door. I can’t hear what’s going on beyond these four walls and it’s driving me mad. I’m waiting for the impulse to take me, the madness that would have me dashing out of here and into the kitchen. I could kick the gun straight out of the Wolf’s manic claws. He’ll be so shocked, he won’t even see me coming. But what if the gun went off? What if it goes off now?

  ‘I saw him,’ Tosh insists, swinging his legs onto the floor.

  ‘Are you sure it was Alden?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so. Only, he was dressed different.’

  ‘Different how?’

  ‘He was wearing a black jacket and a t-shirt,’ he sniffs.

  ‘A t-shirt?’

  ‘Yeah. That was black too.’

  An awful realisation dawns one me. Someone has broken into the bungalow, and that someone isn’t Alden.

  ‘Come on Tosh. Get your coat,’ I say, reaching for the torch. ‘We’re getting out of here.’

  * * *

  Chapter 51

  Lost

  We wait by the door for ages before mustering the courage to step out into the fathomless darkness, the torch extinguished, the fear cutting through us.

  I hear Mannis shouting and swearing. I hear Old Noise: a creak in the floorboards, a chunk of plaster dislodging itself from the wall. And the sound of Tosh sobbing next to me. It’s a tremulous cry without hope. I can only call on my Strong Will to get me through it.

  No hugs or kisses for Tosh.

  No time.

  ‘Try to be brave and don’t let go of my hand, no matter what,’ I tell him firmly.

  Tosh squeezes my hand tight and claws at my waist with the other, afraid to let me go.

  The floorboards groan, echoing loudly under our weight.

  ‘Too slow,’ they seem to say. ‘Much too slow.’

  We gather speed, bolting out the front door and stooping as we run past the washroom.

  Black clouds haunt the sky like thin ghostly spirits and there’s a bite in the air.

  We keep to the outer edge of the lawn, which has managed to elude the streaming tendrils of light coming from the kitchen window. Not too close though. Wild hedges surround the Outer Edge, choking on nettles and brambles. The sweet red berries that sprung from the hedges in summer have dried up and turned brown. Beyond the hedges, on either side of the bungalow, lay vacant fields where the soil has been repeatedly raked.

  My Strong Will departs the moment we enter the woods. Panic thrusts at my chest like a sharp knife.

  I frantically switch on the torch and aim it at the ground. We stumble on, petrified and breathless.

  We come to a large felled tree with moss-covered branches and orange mushrooms growing out of its bark. We sink to our knees beside it to catch our breath. Tosh wraps his arms around me and starts to whimper.

  ‘Shh. It’s all right Tosh,’ I say, pausing to cough. ‘We’re safe now.’

  I stroke his hair and press my lips to his forehead.

  We’ll never be safe.

  Shakily, I lift the torch. The beam of light slices through the darkness. I stare into the night. I might as well be blind-folded. I know Alden’s cabin can’t be far, but I don’t know which direction to take and I get the feeling I’ve forgotten something.

  By sticking to the Outer Edge, we’ve entered a different patch of wood. I only know one route. The first time round, I found that route by chance; the second, by following the sound of the woodcutter’s axe. That sound is dead tonight and I haven’t the same courage I had first time round to find a cabin in the woods.

  ‘Take my hand Tosh. Take my hand,’ I say, waving fingers at him.

  Tosh slowly takes his arms from my waist. He stares around him, terror shining in his eyes. He grabs hold of my hand.

  Together, we stagger to our feet.

  ‘What if Alden’s not here,’ he whispers.

  Then I’ll take Alden’s axe and chop the gun straight out of the Wolf’s paw. ‘Then we’ll stay in the cabin and wait for him.’

  We press on. I swing the torch to the left and to the right in stiff mechanical movements.

  Night noises crash around us. The wind isn’t as strong as it was when we were out on the lawn. Though I can still hear its murmuring, and every so often it gives a low whistle making the branches creak in its wake and the leaves rustle in fury. I spot scurrying woodland creatures: hedgehogs, badgers, a lone fox. I see an owl’s bright yellow eyes staring out at me from the branch of a tree.

  Tosh holds my hand so tight my fingers burn.

  ‘Come on. We have to hurry,’ I say, pulling him along at break-neck speed. I stare straight ahead into the void, anxious to catch sight of the cabin.

  Tosh looks everywhere but straight ahead. He glances over his shoulder, gasping. He snaps his head to the right and then to the left quicker than I can swing the torch.

  I come to a sudden halt, my heart hammering wildly.

  Where are the trees stumps? I was relying on them to guide us. I should have taken Tosh’s advice and left a trail. I’d forgotten to think this through. That was the something I had forgotten. Finding Alden isn’t going to be easy at this late hour. He doesn’t live in the cabin. He’s not part of the bungalow, or the woods, or the lawn. And once I go to him for help, that’s it. Goodbye bungalow. Hello authorities. Hello police.

  ‘Are we lost?’ Tosh asks, breathlessly.

  Hopelessly.

  ‘No, we’re not lost. We walked straight…didn’t we?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tosh says, nodding his head like an anxious puppy, ‘yeah we did. We’ve been walking for ages. It didn’t take so long to find it the last time.’

  ‘Let’s go-’ My breath catches in my throat. I hear twigs snapping dead ahead of us and the heavy thrashing of leaves.

  I draw Tosh closer to me and shine the torchlight in the direction of the noise, seeing nothing.

  The sound ceases abruptly.

  ‘It must be a fox,’ I say, wanting to calm Tosh’s nerves as wells as my own.

  I’m certain it’s no fox.

  * * *

  Chapter 52

  Running

  I’m running, dragging Tosh with me, urging him along in my head because I’m too breathless to say the words, ‘Don’t stop Tosh!’

  The long ragged breaths that play in my ears are not mine. Whoever is pursuing us is gaining. I twist my head to see the brisk movement of human shadow.

  Tosh stumbles. I don’t waste any time nearly yanking his arm from its socket in an effort to get him on his feet again.

  My lungs are on fire. I feel as if my heart is about to jump out of my chest.

  Gaining. They’re gaining on us.

  I imagine mad, ravenous wolves coming out at night to feed with Rick at the head of the pack. I dare myself to stop, wanting to be as brave as the very first time I crossed him. I can’t. I know what he’s capable of. And with that terrifying thought in mind, my eyes eagerly search for the top of the woodcutter’s cabin.

  The next thing I know, I’m falling and Tosh is falling with me. I lose my grip on his hand. It slips from mine.

  The light goes out. Horrified, I crouch down to search for the torch, which has rolled out of sight. I claw at the earth around me clumsily, without hope of ever finding it.

  From somewhere below me, I hear not the ragged breaths of our pursuer, but the tiny whimpering sounds of my brother.

  ‘Tosh?’ I crawl forward on my hands and knees, appealing to the shadows to help me find him. Exhaustion bites me like a h
arsh wind. My forehead feels numb; the rest of me, sore and stiff. My only motivation now is fear.

  ‘Tosh?’ My arms buckle beneath me, my knee knocks against the torch, standing face down in the earth. ‘Are you okay? Can you hear me?’

  I hear a movement in the trees.

  Goosebumps rise on my clammy skin. I topple forward, landing with a smack on the heel of one trembling hand. I thrust the torch out in front of me, my eyes wide. I can’t see anyone. I hastily dip the torch. Tosh’s mop of brown hair bobs up and down in the torchlight. The ground slopes into a ditch. It’s not a big ditch. I could easily climb out of it. Tosh however, who’s small and not as brave, sits hunched over and crying, waiting for me to go down and pick him up.

  ‘I want to go home,’ he cries.

  ‘It’s okay Tosh, they’ve gone.’

  I set the torch on the ground, letting the light flow into the ditch. I gently ease myself in. The soil crumbles through my fingers as I bear down on it. I crouch, give Tosh a quick hug, and then tug his hand. He wrenches his hand away from me. His body slumps.

  He shakes his bowed head and digs his fingers into his knees. Tears course down his cheeks. ‘I can’t mo-move.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  He gives another shake of his head.

  ‘Then what is it?’

  I retrieve the torch from the edge of the ditch. I hug him again, tighter. I pull a corner of my jacket over his shoulders and close my eyes, listening to his painful sobs and wild heartbeat. ‘We’ll go home Tosh in a little while, we’ll go home.’

  He rests his head on my chest. His whole body goes limp against mine. ‘I’m sorry,’ he sniffs.

  ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry.’

  It’s me who should be sorry. We shouldn’t have come out here. What was I thinking? And then I remember, I wasn’t thinking and a nauseating panic washes over me. If the gun went off, would we hear it all the way out here?

  Saul, Mannis, Dock, I can’t leave them to their fate, although it seems I’ve already resigned myself to mine. I love Saul, and no matter what Mannis did or said, I could never bring myself to hate him completely. He could have turned us away, he didn’t. And as for Dock…well he’s Saul dad and he’s never hurt anyone.

  No, I can’t imagine living out my squalid existence without them. I have to go back. I have to. There has to be a way Alden can help us without involving the police or the authorities. All we need to do is rid ourselves of the Wolf and the intruder. That’s all. Once they’re gone everything can go back to normal.

  An eerie shadow streaks across the torchlight and I look up to see the woodcutter standing there in his wide brimmed hand, the axe hanging lazily in his hand. He gazes at me for a short while, his face filled with sadness. He then turns and silently walks away.

  I give a strangled cry. ‘Don’t go. Come back!’

  Tosh’s lifts his head sharply. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Alden, he was-’

  I stare, bewildered at the spot where I saw him standing. It couldn’t have been him. I would have heard something, and Alden would never turn his back on us. I angrily rub my eyes.

  ‘Alden is he coming? Did you see him?’

  ‘No Tosh, it was a dream.’

  I wish all of this was a dream.

  * * *

  Chapter 53

  Tomorrow

  From somewhere up ahead, the leaves rustle madly, causing the night-time creatures to scatter. Heavy footsteps come crashing through the branches towards us. Accompanying these footsteps are voices.

  I hold my breath, reach forward and switch off the torch. I clap my other hand over Tosh’s mouth.

  ‘Over there. I saw something,’ Mannis’s gruff voice sounds in the gloom.

  ‘Let’s split up. Solly, you come with me. Bill, you look over that way.’

  I feel a giddy sense of relief at hearing the name Solly. I let out a lungful of air, sufficient to make my head spin.

  The voices seem to withdraw as if sucked away by the wind. The footsteps become like the pitter-patter of rain. Could I have imagined the voices and the footsteps in the same way I imagined Alden standing here not so long ago? No, I can’t have. Tosh heard them too. His eyes are alight with the sort of terror you see on the faces of children stuck in a horror movie. I take my hand from his mouth. He gives a faint gasp.

  They’re moving away. It’s not us they’re looking for I realise. They haven’t noticed we’re gone.

  ‘Who are they lo-king f-for?’ Tosh whispers, his teeth chattering.

  ‘Whoever was chasing us.’

  I rise slowly. My joints creak and pop. I squint down at Tosh. ‘Think you can move?’

  ‘I can’t see.’ He rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes

  With one aching thumb, I flick on the torch. ‘How about now?’

  Tosh nods and staggers to his feet.

  ‘We have to run again.’ I waste no time informing him. I know he’s exhausted, but I want him - no - I need him to be ready.

  I heave myself out of the ditch and lean in to help him up. He quickly takes my hand and we set off back the way we came, cutting a path through a nest of leaves and branches with the wind at our backs.

  Tosh stares straight ahead of him the whole time. It’s as if he’s been hypnotized. When he snaps out of it, I expect he’ll ask me what the hell I was thinking, dragging him out into the woods in the middle of the night. Thankfully, for the moment though, he doesn’t seem to know where he is.

  We move slowly across the lawn. I freeze at every movement in the grass, every casting shadow and every sound, including, on one occasion, the sound of my own foot squelching in a mud hole. And of course, Tosh freezes with me.

  Dock stumbling out of the washroom, humming to himself and tightening the rope holding up his trousers, is a welcome sight.

  Eventually, we reach the front door where the scent of ash and smoke gently teases my nostrils. I pause for a moment to stare at all that remains of the books: a charred, blackened heap.

  Memories burnt to ashes.

  Tosh breaks out of his trance, releases his hand from mine and shoots past me.

  I find him in Our Room, curled up on his blanket with his eyes half-closed and his muddy trainers set beside him.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ I tell him. If there is a tomorrow. ‘We’re going to have to run.’

  * * *

  Chapter 54

  None of This Matters

  I sit with my back to the door, picking at one frayed edge of the shabby grey coat I’ve put on to help block out the cold. I hunger for sleep. My eyelids grow heavy and I begin to nod off. The second I do, I’m seized by a moment of panic. My whole body jerks into life. I listen for familiar sounds: Dock’s snoring, the mice scurrying in and out of their dense dank homes. I haven’t loosened my grip on the torch since coming in.

  The torch beam falls over Tosh’s perspiring face. He mutters to himself and his body trembles every so often as if he’s in the throes of some horrible nightmare.

  I can’t go to him. I dare not. I need to listen and keep watch.

  I’ve gathered some of the heavier boxes and stacked them up against the door and I’ve cleared the back window in case we have to jump through it. I hope we won’t have to.

  I haven’t the will-power to fend off the drowsiness that smothers me like a warm blanket. My eyelids fall shut. I see a dazzling red ring of fire hovering against a black backdrop. The Red Hoop! It’s there waiting for me. It was there all this time.

  I’m woken by a tap on the door. I open my eyes and the Red Hoop vanishes with a pop.

  ‘Kate? Let me in its Saul.’

  Breathing in the damp air, I slowly come to my senses. The candlelight flickers in the draught. The torchlight is dead. One of the batteries has popped out of its base and rolled across the floor. I lunge for it, ignoring the painful throbbing in my fingers. The torch is my only weapon. I’ve taken fresh batteries from one of Mannis’s torches and replaced them with
some of my weaker ones. I jam the battery into the base of the torch with effort, and slip it inside my coat pocket. Pushing the boxes aside, I ease the door open.

  Saul squeezes through the gap, flushed and breathless. His face is damp with sweat. He’s holding Mannis’s torch in one hand and his green woolly hat in the other. I throw my arms around him as if he’s my long-lost love. He stumbles back surprised.

  I let my arms fall back to my sides, my cheeks throbbing with embarrassment. I never initiate hugs with Saul.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask, almost shrilly. ‘Where’s Mannis? Where’s Rick?’

  ‘They’re in the woods,’ he says.

  He moves into the room, screwing his nose up at the unmistakable smell of urine. He sets down the torch and surveys the damage without comment. Without surprise. He straightens up one of the upturned drawers and glances over to where Tosh lays sleeping.

  ‘It’s all right. We’re in the clear,’ he says.

  I raise an eyebrow. ‘In the clear?’ We’re none of us in the clear. We’re teetering on the edge of a very large drop. Who knows who will push us off. Who knows when.

  ‘Rick knows it’s not one of us,’ he says, staring around the room once more. ‘He saw a man running across the lawn. He’s had us out looking. I had to come back, the torch went dead. Whoever he is, he’ll be long gone by now.’

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you to get back so we can get out of here.’

  Saul backs into the corner of the room. He crushes his hat in his balled fist. The purple skin on his bony fingers grows taut. ‘Go? Where will we go?’

  ‘Away.’

  He lowers his head, and then brings it up again sharply. ‘But this is our home.’

  To my dismay, he shakes his head from side to side. I watch his eyes grow big. He’s looking at me as if I’m some kind of monster. To hear a suggestion like that coming from my own mouth, I suppose I must be.

  ‘I know,’ I say, energetically rubbing the back of my neck. ‘It doesn’t have to be forever.’ The words seem strangely familiar to me. Hadn’t I said something like this before?