Light At The End | Book 3 | Dark To Light

by Benson, Tom

  Josh lifted a small bag from the trailer and selected a handful of tools to stuff in a pouch over his shoulder. He raised a coil of rope from the trailer and looped it over his head to hang across his body and then without hesitation, set off up the tall, flimsy-looking metal framework. The slightly-built young man occasionally paused to look at areas where the cabling had been attached against the metalwork. At the top, he got comfortable with his legs wrapped around the tubular structure and then commenced undoing the lightweight antenna.

  “Wow,” Quincy murmured, “I didn’t have Josh down as someone who could climb like that and be so at ease with it.”

  Imogen laughed. “You should have seen him when he took part in the Tall Ships Race.”

  “Josh took part in that thing?” Quincy looked from the tower to Imogen. “Where they have rigging and lots of sails and a crow’s nest?”

  “The college was only allowed to send one person, and Josh won the competition to take part. A few of us went along to see them sail out of the River Clyde. Our Josh was climbing the rigging as if he was born to it.”

  A few minutes later, there was an indistinct shout, and the antenna was being lowered on the end of the rope. Flint took hold of the device and Imogen untied the knot to let Josh pull the rope up. It took another twenty minutes to lower all four solar panels.

  When the accessories had all gone, Josh climbed down in stages, unclipping the five cables from the tower. By the time he’d reached halfway, Flint had climbed up from the base. He’d undone the clips from the bottom of the tower upwards. An hour and a half after arrival, the tower was the only piece of equipment still in situ. Everything else was neatly packed into the trailer.

  “Time for lunch,” Quincy said jovially as he undid his backpack.

  “You must be starving,” Imogen said, “don’t wait for us.” She grinned as she lifted the two large thermos flasks from the trailer.

  When they left the site half an hour later, fed and watered, Imogen led the way, followed by Flint guiding the trailer from the front end with Quincy holding a rope at the back to slow the descent. Josh brought up the rear, keeping his wits about him as requested. The downward journey was much more comfortable than the climb. Once on the level surfaces of the roadways, Flint and Quincy pulled the trailer. The group made good time back to the farm and without incident.

  The boat recce was led by Amber, followed by Emma, and Josh, who was on his second outing of the day. It was deemed useful to have three of the four sailing enthusiasts going along to offer their opinions on the available craft. Sandy was content to bring up the rear and enjoyed seeing the three friends, suitably in buoyant mood.

  They climbed up onto the embankment on the far side of the railway tracks. It was an ideal place for viewing both up and down the river, and across to the far side.

  Sandy said, “It looks like there are quite a few boats, so how hard was it to choose a couple?”

  “It was relatively easy,” Emma said. “We did a quick check of what was here and still afloat, and then we discounted anything with an engine or outboard motor requirement.”

  “How much did it reduce availability?”

  “By quite a bit. It’s not until you’re looking for something without an engine that you realise just how many small boats use them.” Emma pointed to a large rowboat which was tied nearby. “This one is about fourteen feet long and would easily carry four people, but you can see that it’s been badly damaged along the sides and the seating is ruined.”

  Josh said, “The oars are there too, but they’re broken. It isn’t suitable for using a mast and sail, which, although not a necessity, would be good with a boat this size.”

  Amber led the way along the towpath to a small mooring point. “These two dinghies and this longer rowboat would have been good enough, but again, all three are damaged close to the waterline. The largest one is similar to the aluminium rowboat in size, but this one is an all-wood construction.”

  Sandy nodded. “I take it this would have been a good craft for carrying cargo, for example, if there were only two people on board.”

  “Yes,” Josh said. “It would carry four comfortably with their personal backpacks. Either that or two people with the equipment from both relay sites if we were sending it all downriver.”

  Emma said, “May we take it that neither you nor Flint is a sailing enthusiast, Sandy?”

  “It’s not so much that we’re not enthusiasts, we’ve done our fair share of trips on small craft, but we were wearing full kit. We were members of the boarding parties who rescued seagoing vessels which had been taken over by pirates.”

  “That must have been so exciting,” Amber said.

  “Oh, it was exciting, alright, especially when they shot at us.” He laughed.

  “What did you do?” Emma said wide-eyed.

  “We fired back, but more accurately.”

  Amber burst into laughter. “I love your sense of humour and the way you deliver those lines.”

  “I was only being honest.” Sandy grinned. “I don’t suppose you’ve found any kayaks along here?” He paused. “Both Flint and I have used kayaks for tactical reasons but also for pleasure, which is as close as we get to being sailing enthusiasts.”

  “We’ve got something quite special to show you, and I told the other two not to mention it.” Amber set off along the towpath followed by Sandy, Emma and Josh.

  Two hundred metres later they came to a boat shed with a single wide front door which faced the river and had water flowing inside under the door. To the side was a regular-sized door as a side entrance. The outer materials of the shed were aluminium rather than wood.

  Amber unlocked the large padlock and pulled the door open. She led the way into what was partly a boat storage area and partly a repair shop. A broad wooden deck went around the inside, and a sizeable oblong pool of river water sloshed under the main door, allowing a boat to be brought inside without leaving the water. At the back, the deck was much more expansive and had a workbench and numerous tools.

  In the water within the shed were a fourteen-foot wooden rowboat with oars and two twelve-foot dinghies with oars. Both of the smaller craft had the mast and boom lowered and laid along the vessel. In both cases lying on the deck were the rudder and the centreboard.

  Emma said, “We need sail needles and nylon cord, among other things.” She joined Josh to look around the repair equipment and spares.

  “I’ll leave you two scouting while I explain this set-up.” Amber approached Sandy and kept her voice low. “It was Bill who said it might be an idea to bring our selection of craft inside here for security.”

  “Are you saying that these were out there with the other craft?”

  “Yes. During his visit, Bill had a look around from the roof of the police station. The others were checking out the contents of the building. After seeing what he could of the river, he suggested that we select a couple of boats of our choice, but keep in mind any possible malicious visitors.”

  “You must have wondered what made him think you might have visitors.”

  “We all did at the time. Since our walk around the fields and what you’ve told me, his comments make sense.” Amber paused. “Obviously, we chose craft which wouldn’t need fuel, so all of those were left tied up as they were. I got the impression that Bill had a good reason for his suggestion, so when we selected our boats, I made sure we left a few others tied to the moorings.”

  “Like a sort of decoy—if someone wanted to damage boats to prevent their use, they’d go for the obvious?”

  Amber nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Now I’m getting the impression that you’re about to tell me something important.”

  “The only damage to any of the moored craft out there was minimal. Yes, there were some partly sunk and a few which had been grounded a few years ago, but the damage I pointed out earlier has occurred recently.”

  “Didn’t Emma or Josh notice the same thing?”

 
“Neither of them were with me last time—it was Glen and Imogen who helped me choose. Glen wouldn’t know a good boat from a hollow log, and Imogen hasn’t been back here since we got our selection locked away.”

  “What about sails for the two dinghies?”

  “We used the trailer to get them back to the farm last week, and they’ll be easier to work on there.”

  “How bad are they?”

  “They’re in reasonable condition, but there are certain stress areas on a sail which need to have stronger stitching. Before we take the boats out on trials, we’d rather be sure nothing will tear.”

  Sandy nodded. “Time spent on rehearsals is seldom wasted.” He pointed across to where two large kayaks were hanging from the wall. “Those kayaks have two cockpits, but in each case, one of the cockpits could be used for equipment. That’s the type of thing I’d be comfortable with, and so would Flint.” He walked forward. “I see the paddles are with them too.”

  “Did you and Flint really use kayaks for military missions?”

  “Yes, they’re quiet, and if it’s a small team in kayaks, it sometimes offers more stealth than a single boat with a four-man team and their equipment.”

  “Wow—at some time you are gonna have to tell us about your exploits.”

  “On the subject of telling people things, last night I talked to Flint about the farm’s mysterious visitor. We’re agreed that you ought to know a bit more—as long as you’re happy about not telling the others.”

  “A couple of my friends are more fragile than they appear. I can keep a secret if it helps.”

  “It seems that you’re not as fragile as you once were.” He met her gaze. “We’ll talk later.”

  When Emma and Josh had gathered the few small items needed to continue with sail repairs, they left the boat shed, followed by Sandy. Amber used the large brass padlock to secure the side door.

  She nodded to the padlock. “We damaged the original lock to check this place out, but fortunately there were several of these heavy-duty locks kept at the farm.”

  They strolled back through town and were back home in good time.

  An hour after the evening meal, when the toddlers were all in bed, the group sat out in the garden discussing how successful the day had been and what lay ahead for the next day.

  “Oh, Amber,” Sandy said, “before Flint and I head up into the mill for the night, could you help me work out some distances from the farmhouse?”

  “Yes, sure.”

  The pair went outside and stood a few paces away from the front of the house.

  Sandy pointed in random directions as he spoke. “I believe Bill told you all about the police detective who was murdered at the far end of the old tunnel. He must also have told you about the serial killer escaping from the mountain.”

  “Yes, and that was several years ago—” She half-turned to look at him, and her lips remained parted.

  Sandy nodded. “Yes, you’ve guessed—we believe that the crazy woman has survived and she’s still out there in the wilderness.”

  “But … you guys live over one hundred miles away from here.”

  “Until now, only Bill, Flint and I knew that the murderer was still around and possibly prepared to kill people.”

  “Knowing that she’s survived somehow is one thing, Sandy, but how can you be sure she still wants to kill people?”

  “A few weeks ago, when Flint and I were patrolling our local forest, we had two close calls with arrows—in both cases, the arrowheads were shaped from a bone.”

  “Just like the one I found?”

  “Exactly like the one you found.” Once again, he didn’t see the need to explain that it might well be from human remains.

  “Who is the other person—you said once before that you believed there were now two?”

  “This is the part you might find difficult to deal with, Amber, which is why I wanted to know how tough you’re prepared to be. We believe the other person is Patsy’s daughter, a wild child born after the woman left the mountain installation.”

  “If she’s a child, Sandy, surely—”

  “We know that she helped to build and set deadly booby traps, and she probably uses a bow and arrow as effectively as you use a rifle. We’re not dealing with a child, Amber, we’re dealing with a feral killer-in-training who doesn’t have morals or understand compassion.”

  “I understand your concerns about my toughness now. I don’t know if I’m capable of harming a child.”

  “Amber, the three toddlers who live here, are children. What we’re talking about is a very young person who would have no hesitation in putting one of these deep in your chest, or in one of the children.” He handed back the arrowhead she’d given him so recently. “What I’m trying to tell you is, if you and she are facing each other and she’s armed—if you want to live—shoot first.”

  15. Gradients and Currents

  Sunday 21st August

  At eight o’clock, Flint, Josh, Glen and Quincy went outside ready to set off, and they were taking the small trailer. The second relay site was in a different direction to the first as would be expected. It was farther away, and according to the contours on the map, the place was at a higher altitude.

  Emma laughed. “I suppose the reason there are no girls in your team today is that you don’t want us to see how exhausted you’ll be after the first part of the job. I hope you all make it up the little hill and you can take a rest before you have to work.”

  “Yes, my love,” Glen said, “you’ve captured the scene so well.” He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek before turning to the others. “Come on, guys, we’d better hurry, or it will get dark and scary before we get there.”

  The team members were all laughing as they strolled along the driveway to the main road. They had at least three hours ahead of them before arriving at the home of the second relay site. The first site had been northeast towards Dulnain Bridge. The second was located northwest in a steady climb towards Corrievorrie.

  It took three and a half hours, including two brief stops before the team arrived at their chosen entrance into the woodland. The route wound around the hill and according to the map would involve a steep climb as it reached through the heavy forestry.

  Flint said. “I’d suggest a stop here before we tackle the gradient and then we can enjoy lunch on the summit before we dismantle the equipment.”

  The others nodded their agreement and commenced the brief respite by producing water bottles. When they set off again, Josh took the lead, followed by Quincy and Glen pulling the trailer and making it look effortless. As expected, even the main track was heavily overgrown and in some areas the foliage had to be cleared away to continue with the trailer.

  Quincy said, “The knowledge of how much equipment we have to collect is an incentive to continue with the trailer.”

  “I saw the first one laid out in the barn,” Glen said and nodded. “None of it is particularly heavy, but as you said before, it would be cumbersome to carry all the accessories and cables for a long time.”

  Flint laughed. “Strangely, I found it more of a task to bring the loaded trailer downhill than I did pulling it uphill empty.”

  “Yeah,” Glen said, “but you didn’t have me working with you on that one.” He laughed.

  “Sshhh.” Josh held a finger to his lips as he slowly squatted and pointed ahead where the track narrowed about fifty metres away.

  The others all slowly squatted but remained silent and watched as a golden brown lynx paused while shepherding her three cute cubs across the track. The three bundles of fur stumbled along in a row and disappeared into the shelter of the thickset fir trees. The team remained as they were for several minutes to allow the big cat and her family to cover more ground and then they continued with their trek uphill.

  Regular brief stops were the order of the day as the gradient got steeper. Instead of walking behind the trailer, Flint leant forward, pushing on the back to help the two men wh
o were up front pulling. By the time they were within a few hundred metres, Josh had dropped back to push alongside Flint. It was hard work for all four men, but the sense of teamwork gave them the edge, and they didn’t stop until they reached the summit.

  “Well, look at that,” Glen said and nodded to the side of the thirty-metre tubular tower. An old wooden picnic table complete with benches, weatherbeaten but inviting. “A reminder that … we’re eating first … before we take this lot apart.” He secured the wheels on the trailer.

  The team sat around the table and unpacked the snacks and thermos flasks they’d brought along.

  “It’s a superb view,” Josh said, “and it’ll be even better from the top of the aerial tower.”

  “You’re welcome,” Quincy said and chomped into a sandwich.

  For a while, the four friends ate, drank and enjoyed the scenery, each with their own thoughts.

  Following their relaxing break, Josh packed a couple of hand tools into his pouch and threw the length of rope over his shoulder to hang across his body. He made short work of scaling the narrow tower frame to the top. While he disconnected the antenna and solar panels, Flint dealt with the disconnection of cables from the relay.

  Having done the job before, it was completed slightly more quickly than the first time. Quincy and Glen coiled and packed away the cables as they were lowered down on the rope. They were having one last look around when Josh caught their attention.

  “What the bloody hell is that—it’s not an eagle?”

  The others all looked skyward, and Flint lifted his binoculars from his chest. “I’m no expert, mate, but I think I know what it is.” He focused on the huge raptor overhead. “Judging by the wingspan and how it’s gliding so effortlessly, my guess would be a condor.” He lifted the strap from his neck and handed over his binoculars to Josh, and then they went to Quincy and Glen. The three younger men passed the binoculars back and forth to get a second look.