Running

by S. Bryce

  ‘Get out of here!’ Mannis bellows. ‘Find Dock and go into that end room. The one with the big yella chair.’

  ‘Chair?’ I say, bewildered. I turn away from him to stare down at Saul willing him to move, to speak. I look for a flicker of life in his long eyelashes, a hint of breath from his ghostly pink lips, the slightest heave from his chest, but he has nothing left to give.

  Mannis shakes me by the shoulders, his face a throbbing mass of purple rage. I force myself to look into his bloodshot eyes. ‘The room, the room I told you not to go in,’ he thunders. ‘Move the yella chair and go down!’

  Saul’s name tumbles out of my mouth in anguish.

  Mannis looks at Saul from out of the corner of one his eye. He turns back to me, his lips moving in ripples. A tear squeezes its way out of his eye. For a second, I think he’s going to break down and start crying. Instead, his fingers clamp down on my shoulder again. ‘There’s nothing you can do,’ he bellows furiously. ‘Now go!’

  He steers me towards the door. Dock stands in the open doorway with his hair up on end. He’s swinging an empty beer bottle in one hand and holding up his rope-trouser belt with another. He’s looking past me at Saul. His face set in a grimace. He’s taking it all in, good and sober. He doesn’t need to go to Saul as I did. From where he stands, he can tell he’s never going to get back up. I see something else too, or perhaps I had a sense of it all along. The Knowing. I can see it right there in Dock’s swollen eyes. Eyes now swimming with tears for the son he’s lost. He loved him. He knew—

  The gun goes off like the cracking of a whip.

  My insides jolt. The blurry figures in the middle of the room come into focus with a clarity that makes me sick to my stomach. I watch Jack slump forward on to Rick at the same time I bound towards the door, pushing Tosh in front of me.

  Dock’s still looking over at his son, when Tosh falls into him, sending him stumbling with both arms flailing forward. The beer bottle smashes to the ground.

  ‘Come on Dock,’ I yell, helping him to his feet. ‘Follow us!’

  I whirl around to see Mannis trying to wrestle the gun away from Rick. It’s the last thing I see as I slam the kitchen door shut.

  * * *

  Chapter 58

  Counting

  My trembling hand hovers over the Forbidden Room’s wooden door knob.

  “Move the sofa and go down”, he said.

  Go down where? To deep, dark hell Kate.

  I take the torch from my pocket, switch it on and point it back down the endless passageway. Voices sound faintly from within its walls. I hear a rustling noise behind me. Probably the mice, diving in and out of their junk homes. Closer still, I hear the thumping of my own heart. It fills my head with a slow, furious beat.

  It seems Dock didn’t follow. I consider going back for him, but as a second gunshot rings out, I dutifully throw the door open, mount the platform and push the yellow sofa back in one swooping rush.

  The floor opens up beneath us, revealing a shadowy staircase. The dust billows up. I press the sleeve of my coat over my mouth, choking back a cough. I hesitate again.

  Deep, dark hell. And I swear the torch knows it. Its bulb flickers on and off in silent protest. I give it a shake.

  Tosh jostles me. ‘Hurry,’ he shrieks. Peering, wide-eyed, over his shoulder.

  The voices in the walls become louder. I grab his hand and together we take flight.

  We crash down one bent up flight of stairs only to meet another long one. We stand at the top and peer down. At the bottom of the second flight is a squat, narrow door a foul smell seeps from it. A smell more putrid than tar soap, vomit and shit. I stop breathing through my nose and take short gasps of air.

  Tosh yelps with fright as I slip on the first step. I slap my hand down hard on the floor to break my fall, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through my wrist. The torch crashes down the stairs. It lands at the foot of the black, damp door and goes out.

  The darkness is absolute. The putrid smell makes me feel dizzy. Afraid I might faint, I shut my eyes. Every drop of saliva has evaporated from inside my mouth and I can feel something rising in my throat. My last meal, I think in a panic, and swallow hard.

  ‘I can’t see you!’ Tosh screams, frantically pounding my knee with his hand.

  ‘Shh,’ I tell him in a raspy voice. ‘I’m here.’ I take his hand and press it to my cheek.

  Tosh snuggles up to me like a restless baby. I close my arms around him to hold him still and his heartbeat becomes my heartbeat.

  Time passes. I count to three hundred under my breath. Three hundred means at least five minutes have passed, possibly more. I count real slow. Once I’m done counting to a hundred I start the count again.

  Someone will come. And if no one comes soon, we’ll go back up and face what we have to face. For the time being though, my Strong Will has vanished. I can hear myself crying and make no attempt to wipe away the steady stream of tears running down my cheeks. Counting is all I can do.

  I’m about halfway through what I’m sure is my ninth count of three hundred, when Tosh suddenly goes rigid in my arms.

  ‘Stop counting,’ he whispers, nudging me in the ribs. ‘Did you hear that? Someone’s coming.’

  I let out a long choking sob which is meant to be “one hundred and seventy”.

  My heart thumping hard, I strain to listen. There’s a buzzing going on in my head, and throughout it, I hear the sound of Ellie crying, the pitter-pat sound of dripping water coming from the reeking doorway below us and Tosh’s frantic gasps. The next I know, the pitter-pat sound is above me, throbbing like a pulse in both ears. It quickly turns to the unmistakable sound of thundering footsteps.

  ‘There is someone,’ I whisper, staring into the blackness

  Tosh wraps his arms around my neck and bursts into tears.

  A chill races down my spine as swift and sure as the approaching footsteps. A bright light snaps on above us. I shield my eyes with one hand.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ booms a voice, ‘I found you.’

  I take my hand away, and I find myself staring into the face of the woodcutter.

  * * *

  Chapter 59

  Unnatural Light

  The next thing I know, Alden has enveloped Tosh and I in his great arms. ‘Let’s get going,’ he says, as if we have made a prior arrangement to meet him and we have some place to go, some place we need to be.

  Caught in Alden’s arms, Tosh and I stagger up. I gaze at the dark stairway, clutching my sore wrist to my chest. I’m met with silence and darkness.

  Tosh sobs into Alden’s trouser leg. Alden sets his torch down and attempts to pick Tosh up. Tosh won’t let him. He wraps his arms around Alden’s leg and makes his body rigid.

  Alden pats Tosh on the head. ‘It’s all right. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’

  It already did. But you weren’t there.

  ‘Look!’ says Tosh suddenly. He points to the door, where a strip of red and white light has mysteriously appeared, his other hand tugs Alden’s trouser leg. It’s an unnatural light. There’s no electricity in the bungalow and no glowing red torches.

  Blind terror clutches my heart. I seize Tosh under his arm and make for the staircase.

  ‘No,’ says Alden. He jerks my elbow. ‘It’s a way out, I promise you.’ He guides me back down the steps. ‘Take my hand.’ He spreads his hands and flexes his fingers. Tosh latches on to one.

  I look from Alden to my brother. ‘Where’s it go?’ I ask.

  ‘Come on Kate,’ says Tosh, jigging up and down on the spot. He looks demented. He offers me his tiny hand. ‘Mannis told us to come here. He must have known Alden would help us.’

  ‘Is that true?’ I ask the woodcutter. ‘Because Dock is still up there, and Mannis.’

  ‘I forgot about Dock,’ says Tosh. His shoulders droop. He stares anxiously up at Alden. ‘And we should wait for Mannis too. We’re supposed to stay together.’

  I gawp at the un
natural light seeping under the door. ‘Can we go back up?’

  Alden smiles. ‘Mannis can take care of himself and Dock will find his way. Do you really want to go back up there? You came looking for me tonight because you wanted a way out. You pleaded for my help.’

  I give an angry snort. ‘You knew we came looking for you. You were out there in the woods. You walked away. We were in trouble. Saul -’

  Alden stoops to pick up his torch. ‘Are you out of trouble now?’

  I shake my head and wipe away the splatter of tears on my cheeks. ‘Don’t you see? I don’t want to leave the bungalow. I can never leave, not now.’

  ‘And you won’t,’ says Alden. ‘I promise.’

  He offers me the crook of his elbow. I hesitate, then take it.

  That’s two promises he’s made. Looks as if I’m not done counting yet.

  * * *

  Chapter 60

  Magic

  I watch as the damp black door peels away like the paper in our bungalow. We’re in the open air. In front of me, I see the familiar slope - the large gap in the wooden fence leading to a road I can’t see, but I know is there. Directly behind me, stands a bungalow. It looks like our bungalow. The black, damp door has vanished.

  The air is balmy. The sweat clings to my neck like wet sand. The air is thick with buzzing insects. I never saw the bungalow in the full bloom of summer. It was creeping towards autumn when we first came out here.

  Tosh smiles and whoops for joy. ‘It’s magic,’ he says. He starts running around in circles.

  ‘This isn’t real,’ I say. No one pushed the door open. I must have fallen and banged my head. ‘This is a dream.’

  Alden sits on the steps of a bungalow that’s not ours. It can’t be. Our bungalow does not have solid steps, or windows with unbroken panes, or walls without cracks. It does not have white lace curtains hanging in the windows, or pink and lilac flowers skirting its edge. This bungalow is white. Brilliant white, not grey and flaking like ours.

  Tosh breaks free from running circles and tears off down the slope.

  ‘Careful!’ I cry after him.

  I look back at Alden. He smiles at me. His axe lies on the step below him. Everything is different, I don’t understand why. I stare bewildered at the thick carpet of grass leading away from the bungalow. It seems to race before my eyes.

  ‘What have you done?’ I move towards Alden as cautious as I would anyone with an axe in front of them and a smile that won’t crack. ‘What is this place?’

  ‘Home,’ says Alden. ‘And it’s a good one.’

  I shake my head. ‘Not our home.’ I whisper loud enough for him to hear. ‘We can’t stay here.’

  ‘This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?’ says Alden. His smile shrinks a little. ‘You wanted to jump through the red hoop.’

  My heart gives a jolt. I march up to him, the axe forgotten. ‘How did you know about that? I never told anyone.’ At least I don’t think I did. I may have told Saul. It’s the sort of thing I might have told him or wish I had.

  The faint aroma of warm bread wafts out of nowhere and tickles my nostrils. I fall back a step. Our bungalow never smelt this nice.

  ‘I can hear thoughts sometimes,’ says Alden. ‘And I heard yours and your brother’s, and a few more besides.’ He pats the step, inviting me to sit next to him.

  I stare at the step. There’s not a speck on it. I long to sit down. I notice the axe has moved from the step. It is now propped up against the wall, next to the bungalow door.

  Arms folded, I join Alden on the steps. I sit on the next step down at the polar opposite end of Alden. Out of his reach, but not out of his gaze.

  ‘You don’t want to be afraid any more,’ says Alden. ‘You want to be safe. You want to stop running. Now you can.’

  I look down at my filthy hands. My wrist doesn’t hurt as bad as it did. ‘What am I thinking now?’ Nothing, I think. Say nothing and be gone.

  He stares back at me. The smile has gone from his lips. He spread his arms. ‘You don’t trust me or any of this.’

  ‘Is it magic?’

  Alden does not answer. I hear a noise behind me and glance over my shoulder. Through the frosted glance I see a figure, a blur of pink, peach and grey.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Melina,’ says Alden. ‘She’s nice. You’ll like her.’

  ‘Don’t tell me who I can and cannot like,’ I say obstinately. ‘Why have you done this? What do you want from me?’

  ‘I want nothing in return other than to see you children happy, and then I can be at peace.’

  ‘Sorry we’re such a nuisance to you.’ I lunge to my feet. I hear, “have some peace”, not “be at peace”. ‘That’s why you brought us somewhere new, to rinse us out of your hair.’

  Alden stays quiet.

  Tosh comes bounding up the hill towards me. ‘Ellie’s here. She’s here!’ He holds a doll in his hand. I have seen it - or some messed up version of it - before in our bungalow: a soiled pink porcelain doll with faded blue eyes, a missing foot, a chunk gouged out of its stomach and eight strands of hair on its head. Ellie sometimes played with it. She called the doll Flo or Fleur, something like that. The doll Tosh carries is a shinier, newer version of the same doll. He thrusts the doll at me. I take it.

  It has a full head of curly black hair and wears a blue frilly dress. ‘That’s not Ellie,’ I say bluntly. I hand the doll back to him. ‘Ellie’s gone.’

  Tosh takes it from me. Tears gather in his eyes. ‘She’s not dead, is she Alden?’

  Alden opens his mouth. I just know he’s going to say something dumb like, ‘Not if you don’t want her to be’, or ‘She’s still here. She’s all around us.’

  ‘Nice try Alden,’ I say before he can speak.

  I seize Tosh’s hand. He makes a face like a Pitbull. I whip the doll out of his other hand and throw it to the ground.

  I turn to face Alden. ‘Take us back. We’re not waiting around for the authorities. You take us back now.’

  ‘I haven’t called anyone,’ says Alden.

  ‘I don’t want to go back,’ says Tosh. He digs his blunt nails into my hand, trying to pull free of my grip. ‘I want to stay here. It’s safe here. Ellie told me.’

  I give Alden one last frosty glare, and then wheel around and start walking down the hill, pulling Tosh along, ignoring his yelling. It will take a while, but I have no attention of stopping. I won’t fall for another one of Alden’s tricks. Another of anyone’s tricks. He almost had me. He almost had me believing—

  Two people appear over the crest of the hill. One of them is a tall woman in a skirt that goes past her ankles. She has a basket tucked under her arm. Skipping ahead of her is a little girl. She looks just like Ellie, except her hair’s longer and curlier and there’s colour in her cheeks. A fat pink bow has been planted in the middle of the little girl’s head. She’s wearing a pink dress. The skirt of the dress is shaped like an umbrella. She carries a flimsy white hat in her hand.

  ‘Ellie!’ Tosh cries. He races to meet her.

  I forget about the woman completely. I watch Tosh crush the little girl to him. She grasps him by the waist and looks over his shoulder at me. She has the biggest smile on her face. Her eyes shine.

  How strange that I should see Ellie here. But it is her. I feel light-headed with joy. I take a step towards her and the carpet of green grass rushes up to meet me.

  * * *

  Chapter 61

  Melina

  I wake up on a bed that creaks when I turn. My eyes flick open. I have not forgotten I saw my little sister.

  Alden is sitting on the edge of my bed frowning at me. I struggle to part myself from the plump cushion planted beneath my head. Eventually, I sit up. ‘Where’s Tosh and-and Ellie?’

  For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me that I was dreaming and Ellie was never really here.

  ‘Playing,’ says Alden, ‘outside. How do you feel?’

  I exhale with relief. ‘
I’m okay.’ I pull my legs to my chest, and then swing them over the bed, my feet brushing Alden’s arm on the way.

  I gaze around the room in awe. The sun pours into it from all angles. The large room is sparsely furnished. There’s an oriental rug on the floor. A huge chest of drawers and a rocking chair are set against one wall; a trunk, a wooden table with a bowl set inside it are set against the other.

  ‘This will be your room,’ says Alden a matter-of-factly.

  ‘I haven’t said I’m staying.’ I run my fingers along the spines of a small pile of books set on the bedside table shelf. I push my feet into my trainers. I wander around, inspecting the room. The rug is a little worn and faded. I like the colours in it: pink, green, blue and cream. Dried pressed flowers hang in a frame above the bed. I peer into the bowl set within the table. There’s water in it. I stick my hand in. The water’s warm.

  I pause at the window, kneading the sore spot on my wrist. Little specks of light burst through the lace curtains and dance like glitter balls before my eyes. ‘There’s room for two more beds. Tosh and Ellie could sleep in here.’

  ‘That could be arranged.’

  ‘How did you do it?’ I abruptly turn away from the window to face him. ‘How did you bring Ellie back to life?’

  ‘It isn’t me,’ says Alden. ‘It’s the bungalow. All I did was show the way.’

  A magical bungalow? It doesn’t seem right to me. But it’s miracle of some sort. ‘Well thanks for leading the way. Will you bring anyone else here?’ I don’t want to get my hopes up, my dreams shattered.

  ‘If they ask and I hear them.’ He rises to his feet. ‘And now I must go.’

  ‘Go where?’ I don’t want him to go. He can’t leave us here in this strange place, with strange people in strange clothes.