The Turning (The Forsaken Series Book 2)

by Phil Price

  “So, what will you do while I’m gone?”

  “I was thinking about watching a Phil and Kirsty that I’d recorded.”

  “I was thinking that you could hang those pictures that have been under the stairs for weeks. They won’t hang themselves. Phil and Kirsty can wait.”

  “Of course. My night is now complete,” he said as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Five minutes later he pulled up at the entrance to the visitors’ centre. “If you need a lift, just call.”

  “I’m sure I can walk back. It’s only ten minutes or so.” She left the car, struggling to slam the door shut as the wind took hold of it. Doug watched as she made her way to the entrance of the hexagonal wooden building. He hit a button on the dashboard, filling the car with his favourite talk radio station. Pulling out of the car park he slowly made his way back home, his tyres splashing through puddles that would soon become much larger. High above the village the persistent rain started to collect and gain momentum as gravity forced it downhill towards the sea.

  ☨☨☨

  She said a few polite farewells before heading back towards the main street, the wind propelling her across the car park towards a stone wall. She almost banged into it, her hand halting her progress. “Bloody hell,” she cursed as she looked at her dirty palm. She pushed her paperback into her coat pocket before rubbing her hands together in a vain attempt to clean them. The rain had died down to just a drizzle, but the wind had increased. It seemed to be blowing itself out to sea. She pulled up her hood and set off down the main street. As she stepped into the road her foot landed in what felt like a river. “Oh my God!” Alison exclaimed as she saw that the main street was more like a fast-moving tributary. Her feet were now submerged in icy water, making her shudder. She was lucky that she had her sturdy shoes on, with rubber grips. Shall I call Doug? she thought. No point. I’ll be home by the time he drags himself off the sofa. Hunkering her head down, she set off home as the wind whipped around her. It was pitch dark. No street lamps lit the village. Must be a power cut, she thought as the water splashed around her ankles. She could just about make out the fork in the main street. Left would take her down towards King Arthur’s Rocks, the world-famous heritage site. Right would take her home. She plodded forward with renewed determination, sensing she was almost there. A noise behind her made her stop and turn as the wind momentarily dropped. She thought she heard a whooshing sound from the direction of the visitors centre. Peering back up the main street, she tried to see where the noise was coming from. Nothing but blackness peered back at her. She turned around to continue as a swell of storm water struck her legs from behind, sending her floundering in the road. The force of the surge was enough to send her rolling down the left fork, towards the dark violent Atlantic. Her mouth filled with black water as she was swept further down the slope. She came to a stop next to a wrought iron railing as the surge lessened slightly. Alison expelled a jet of water from her mouth and nose, crying out in anguish. She struggled to get to her feet, slipping and sliding as the water flowed . Slipping again, she started to slide towards the sea when a hand grabbed her arm. She felt the strength in the vice-like grip, but she also felt it was a gentle, not threatening. Strong hands helped to her feet, moving her towards a hedge, away from the torrent.

  “Are you hurt? You seem to have taken quite the tumble. Lucky I was passing.” Alison pulled her haphazard hood from her head to get a look at her helper. It was so dark. The rain had started again. She could make out a shape in front of her. A dark shape in a dark coat. She suddenly realised how tall her helper was. She craned her neck to get a look at his face. He’s huge, she thought. Where did he come from? His dark glasses shielded his eyes. On any other occasion, she’d have thought it odd to be wearing such things at night. But she was disorientated.

  “Err, no I’m fine, I think. A little bruised and soaked, but I’ll be okay. Thank you so much for saving me.”

  “Think nothing of it. I was stood next to the hedge, waiting for the water to slow down.” His voice was soft, yet firm. It carried over the wind and rain to Alison, who would never admit that she was normally hard of hearing.

  She started to feel calm. Her breathing soothed as the man let go of her arm. “What’s your name?” she said as the wind kicked up again. He shielded her from the brunt of it.

  “I have many names in many lands. But you can call me by my real name. The name that fits the land where we are heading,” he said softly as he removed his glasses. His red eyes penetrated the night as he breathed, “Elias.”

  Fifteen

  “Jake. Have you heard from your Mother?” Doug said down the phone line, his voice unusually tense.

  “No Dad. I thought she was at the book club?”

  “That finished an hour ago. She’s not home yet. I’ve tried her mobile but she left it in the bedroom. The weather’s awful. I just hope she’s not had a fall or something.”

  “Give me five minutes Dad, and I’ll be round.”

  “Thanks Son.”

  Jake hung up the phone as Katherine came to the lounge door, resting on the jamb. She looked sleepy, dressed in her favourite dressing gown and pyjamas. “Is something wrong Jake?” The concern in her voice was evident as she looked at his expression.

  “Not sure. Mom’s not back from book club. It finished an hour ago. Dad’s worried that she may have had a fall on the way home. The weather is pretty bad. I’m heading over to their house now.”

  “Be careful my Love,” Katherine said. Jake walked over and kissed the top of her head before leaving the room. She heard the front door click shut a few seconds later. Walking over to the lounge window, she peered out at the blackness beyond. Something didn’t feel right to her. Something was amiss. She shivered involuntarily, pulling her dressing gown around herself to ward off the icy feeling that seemed to invade the room. “Take care Jake,” Katherine said to herself as she switched the light off, heading upstairs.

  ☨☨☨

  The two men walked down the main street from the visitors centre, dodging puddles, sticking close to buildings to escape the rain. There was a steady flow of water that ran from the nearby hills. It had reduced enough in volume to barely wet their shoes. Jake’s torch beam lit the street ahead, panning left to right as they made progress towards the fork in the road. The beam settled left, downhill towards the sea.

  “What do you think Dad? She shouldn’t have taken this route?”

  “No. But we can take a walk down to the cliffs. Should only take five minutes.” Jake nodded, heading left past an old stone building. Doug followed, scanning the areas where the torch didn’t reach A hundred yards down the hill Jake suddenly stopped. He bent down and picked something up off of the ground. He showed it to Doug. It was a soggy paperback book, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin.

  Doug looked at his son, his face showing concern. “That’s your Mother’s. She took it to book club with her.” Both men looked down towards the sea as the wind and rain abated. The only sound they could now hear was the Atlantic, smashing itself onto the rocks far below.

  ☨☨☨

  Thirty-six hours later Doug and Jake sat in a small police waiting room, slumped in plastic chairs looking at the floor. On the counter was a plastic bag containing a red jacket. Alison’s red jacket. It had been found washed up on a nearby beach by a man walking his dog. Once Alison’s description had been given to the police and coast guard the jacket was a big indication as to what may have happened. No body had been found, but both men knew that the chances of finding her alive were dwindling to a point beyond hope.

  Doug sat back, looking up at the ceiling. He looked at his son, whose tears had splattered the linoleum flooring. He rubbed his shoulder, causing a few stuck tears to fall from his nose. “Come on Son. Let’s go home. There is nothing else we can do now.”

  ☨☨☨

  The foursome sat in Doug’s lounge, the sombre mood as grey as the clouds that rolled across the horizon. Mugs of tea
and coffee sat steaming on the small wooden coffee table that Alison had purchased from a craft fair a few weeks before. Doug smiled, remembering the expression on her face when she’d seen it. It was seldom that she had smiled over the last few years, choosing to frown and bicker with him. But when she smiled she was suddenly the girl he’d met all those years ago. The one he had fallen for. That seemed like a fuzzy distant memory now. In his heart of hearts he was more upset for Jake and Katherine. Yes, he was sad that his wife had died. And part of him had died too. The part that was once happy with her. The part that raised two boys with her. Doug had lost that now. Although she constantly moaned at him, bossed him about, and showed no affection, truth is, he would miss her.

  Katherine took a sip of tea before looking at Doug. “What happens now?”

  Doug was at a loss for a moment. The last funeral he had to arrange was thirty years previous. “I suppose I need to find a funeral director and start making arrangements. I need to call Rick in Hamburg to give him the news. How he’ll take it is anyone’s guess. I hope he can find time to come over.” Jake stayed silent. He knew that if his younger brother were to turn up, it would be a miracle. He decided to keep that to himself. “I’m not even sure if we have a coffin.”

  He looked at Father Stephen, who nodded. “It’s rare, but it does happen. I’ve presided over many funerals where the coffin has been filled with mementos and flowers. I wouldn’t think too much on that Doug. It will all come together. The directors will explain everything.”

  Doug nodded absently before picking up his tea. Taking a sip, a thought popped into his head. A thought that was troubling. “Do you think what happened to Alison is connected to what we were all talking about?” They all suddenly looked wary. Shifting glances were exchanged by all of them.

  “ Okay. How would it be connected?” Stephen said.

  “If something was close by that wanted to do us harm, it could be possible that they attacked Alison,” Doug said.

  Jake leaned forward. “Dad has a point. It’s not that far-fetched. I guess nothing is far-fetched anymore. But why attack Mom? Why not me, or Katherine?”

  Stephen could sense that the conversation was about to head south. “Look. Let’s not get too far into this. Yes, it is a possibility. But it’s far more reasonable to assume that Alison got caught up the storm.” He looked at Doug, who nodded, a tight smile appearing on his face. “Let’s believe that that is what happened. We agreed in the tea room that we’re all going to take precautions. That should still happen. I suppose I need to make them too. After all I’ve had my own encounter with one of them. It could happen again. As we said, nothing is too far-fetched anymore.” They all nodded, becoming lost in their own thoughts.

  “What are your plans now Father?” Doug said.

  “I spoke to Denise this morning. I told her about Alison. Kinda spun it to say that I’m down here giving my support. She is still in East Anglia. She sends her condolences. Her mother is liable to go any day now. But Denise has told me to either stick around here, or head home. There will be a trip to Ipswich over the next few weeks I’m sure.” He took a swig of his drink, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “I will stay here a few more days. If you need me here Doug, I’m happy to oblige. Or if you need some space I can visit an old friend from the church who lives a few miles south. Truth is, I’m enjoying the sea air. It’s helping me sleep. The lady who owns the guest house is a very welcoming too. Considering she is American, she makes a mean Full English.” They all smiled, except Katherine, who had no idea what that meant. She made a mental note to ask Jake later. A flicker on the monitor told Katherine that Alicia was waking from her nap. She left the lounge, heading upstairs, leaving the three men sat pondering.

  Doug looked at Stephen. “Kenneth, you go explore. See your friend. I will be okay. I’m going to be pretty busy over the next few days, so you make the most of your trip. We could grab a bite to eat later if you’re around?”

  “Sounds good to me.” He looked at Jake. Will you be okay, Jake?”

  “It’s a case of having to be Father. We’ll get through this. I can’t believe she’s gone though. I don’t think it has truly hit me yet. Katherine and Alicia will keep me busy. And I’ll help with the funeral arrangements.”

  Doug placed his hand on his son’s leg, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks Son. You were always your Mom’s favourite. Yes, she loved Rick too and would never say a bad word against him. But you were her number one. You were the one who picked her up from the shops, helped her with anything and everything. I know she could be difficult. But she loved you.” Jake’s eyes filled with tears as he embraced his father. Stephen sat in silence, watching the two men grieve together. Hoping that this was the last of their grief, he said a short prayer. To a god that he no longer believed in. Keep them safe.

  Sixteen

  As the sun dropped away from the land for another night, Mantz forest was plunged into darkness. Its tall evergreen trees jostled for position, barely able to stand alone in the blanket of the forest. At its eastern fringe a small group of people gathered. Torches hung from the branches, lighting the group as they stood in a tight circle. Away from the trees a large fire crackled away, set inside a stone circle. A stout wooden frame stood over the flames, its blackened surface as dark as the night surrounding it. In the centre of the group a man was tied between two trees. His arms and legs spread wide apart. He was naked, terrified, and sobbing. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he looked at the group around him. They were quietly chanting. A low murmur that he could barely hear. At the centre of the group stood a woman. She was a few inches taller than the rest of her clan. She was dressed in brown leggings, crudely stitched. Her upper body was also covered in crudely woven fabric. Her arms were bare, showing off muscles that stood proud in the fire light. Her blond hair was tied into a solid plait that ran down her back. Her face was angular and handsome. The blue eyes that sat under a serious brow looked at her people. She was their leader. Her name, Karaa.

  She clapped her hands, stopping the chant in mid-flow. “We give thanks to the spirits of Mantz for bringing us an offering. He was foolish enough to trespass on our lands. He will pay the price.” She looked at the man. “Any last words?” He was babbling incoherently as his bowels voided. The sour, acrid stench not affecting the clan. A short, heavily-built woman threw two buckets of water on the ground beneath him, washing the mess into a shallow gulley that ran between his legs. She walked behind him, tossing the remains of the water against his backside. The clan laughed as she slapped his flesh, drawing a scream from his mouth.

  Karaa smiled thinly as he sought out the boy in the semi-darkness. She spotted him, stood next to a tree. “Coop. Come here. It is time for you to take the next step. You are ready.”

  The tall boy walked through the circle until he stood facing Karaa. They were matched in height. He was slender, with brown hair and a kind face. He almost looked out of place with the rest of the clan. His skin was flawless, whereas the others were mottled and scarred. His teeth white and straight as compared with theirs crooked and blackened. His voice rang true as he addressed her. “I am ready, Karaa. What must I do?”

  She pulled a dagger from her boot, the finely-honed steel glinting as she handed it to him. “You’ve seen this done countless times. Do it right. Do it true. Become a man.”

  He stepped forward until he was stood in front of the man. His arm shook gently as he gripped the handle as tight as he could, his knuckles white. “I call upon the spirits of the forest to take this man’s soul. We offer it in exchange for your blessings. We will make sure he goes quickly into the darkness.” Karaa nodded and clapped her hands. Coop stepped forward, plunging the blade into the man’s sternum. The victim’s eyes widened even further, looking into the eyes of the angelic boy who had just ended his life. In one quick movement Coop drew the blade down, slicing through skin and organs, continuing down until the blade reached the man’s crotch. He withdrew the dagger, bl
ood and chunks of flesh dripping from the tip, splattering the brown grass underfoot. The man’s head lolled forward, his last breath escaping into the night. His organs slithering out of the gaping wound, landing in a steaming heap in the gulley. Coop stepped forward and opened the wound, thrusting his hand inside. He pulled out the man’s liver, a sucking sound carrying into the forest. His hands were covered in dark blood as he gripped the liver, careful not to drop it. Looking at Karaa he took a bite, tearing a chunk of it off before swallowing it down greedily.

  His leader walked over and kissed him full on the lips, the blood smearing over both their faces. “You are now a man,” She said as she led him away from the group. She sat him down on a tree stump, squatting next to him by the fire-side. She looked over at the group as the stout woman began dismembering the body with an axe. The rest of the group helped, readying the meat for the fire. She looked back at Coop, his beautiful face stained with blood. “At the next moon we will head west, down to the sea. We will visit my brother and I will tell him that Coop is now a man. They will shout your name and honour you. I will leave you with him for four seasons. You will learn their ways. Hunt with them, fight with them. My brother will take you to the most northern and southern tips of our land. Your eyes will see much. It will make you stronger, more cunning, more of a warrior. Then you will return here to be with us once more. We have plans to head east. You’ve seen Amatoll from the slopes of Monks Passage. You’ve seen the darkness that hangs over the land. We will go there. To take. To plunder. To feast. By the time you return to us, you will be ready. You will lead that party, with Karaa by your side.” She placed her hand on his thigh. “But on this night, you will lie with me. You’re a man now Coop. You must do what men do. But first we eat.” She kissed him full on the lips again, her tongue invading his mouth. Wrapping itself around his. He immediately felt arousal as he let himself be kissed. He could taste her scent, mixed with the metallic taste of blood. He closed his eyes and fell in love with being a man.