She was so weak on arrival that Claude had to carry her inside. He took her straight to the only bed – a large queen size, constructed from rough logs - and untied her wrists only to lash them to the bedposts.
These cabins took rustic to the extreme, not making use of electricity, but relying on a fireplace and old-fashioned gas lamps for light and warmth. The only concession to civilization was the provision of running water to the cabin.
Situated in a series of low mountains that mimicked a hog when silhouetted, Hogsback was a good few degrees colder than the surrounding towns. Claude soon had a fire blazing in the fireplace, as well as lighting the three hanging gas lamps and the one standing on the bedside table.
The cabin was open-plan in its design. From the kitchen, you could see the lounge, dining area, and sleeping quarters. The only room that was separate was the bathroom, this also being a rustic affair with warm water provided from a fire-boiled water tank outside. Coarsely woven Hessian rugs covered the rough wooden floor.
Claude had been around horses long enough to know the signs. He needed to break Rebecca’s fever, or she would suffer permanent damage. Cursing the delay to the consummation of their union, he began hunting around in the cupboards for a First Aid Box. His search proved fruitful. The kitchen cupboard yielded a well-stocked box with all the essentials. Digging past the bandages and plasters, he found what he was looking for, a bottle of Paracetamol tablets. Filling a glass with water, he managed to get Rebecca upright long enough to swallow four tablets – double the normal dose. She thirstily emptied the glass before collapsing back onto the pillows into unconsciousness, body wracked with fever shakes.
Finding a cloth in the bathroom, he wet it and wrung it out. Gently bathing her face, he spoke to her in soothing tones, “It’s alright my pet. Soon you’ll be mine. Just as soon as this fever breaks. Won’t be long now.”
He’d already waited so long – a little more time would only make the moment of her surrender sweeter.
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Under Maxine’s quietly firm questioning, Hazel had found herself unable to hold back any of the details of the events of the past few weeks. In fear of his wife’s delicate state of health, Edward Rochester had warned her not to disturb Madame Maxine with the truth of what was going on. Yet, it seemed to Hazel, he had completely underestimated his wife’s resources.
“Thank you for sharing so honestly with me, Hazel. I appreciate it. When Jason came to see me, he alluded to the boys being in some sort of trouble. Getting home to find them not here, just confirmed what he’d said. To be fed all this bunkum about them just being away for a while—” Her voice trailed off and Hazel saw a spark of anger in her eyes.
Taking a sip of Chamomile tea, she forced herself to calm down, “Jason said I was crucial to their well-being. I know I can’t go after them. So what can I do, Hazel? Nothing?” Her eyes met Hazel’s with the desperate question blazing in them.
“Madam Maxine, there is always something we can do. In fact we can do it together right here, right now. It’s the best thing we could do for Claude, Kenneth and Rebecca. We can pray.”
Reaching out, Maxine cupped Hazels round face in her porcelain hand. “I was so hoping you’d say that, Hazel! Yes, let’s do that.”
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Chapter 29 - Fear and Faith
Rebecca opened her eyes and took in the log ceiling above her. Her thoughts were calm and ordered for the first time since they’d fled the hotel. The fever had broken and her mind was clear enough to take stock of her situation. A small move of her arms told her that she was tied to the bed, though at least her ankles were free.
Twisting her head to the side, she looked straight into Claude’s eyes as he sat next to the bed, staring at her.
“How are you feeling?”
He seemed so normal that Rebecca wondered if all the menace had been a fever-induced delusion.
“Better. Where are we?”
“A perfectly secluded mountain get-away spot. Nobody will ever find us here.”
The glint in his eyes set the old panic rising inside her.
“Claude, let me go please! What do you want from me?”
In a swift move, he’d left the chair and straddled her with a manic grin. “I want you to be mine. Why do you find that so hard to understand?” He buried his face in her neck and started kissing her.
Revulsion lent strength to her slim frame. Managing to draw a knee up into the space between his body and hers, she pushed with all her might, sending Claude toppling sideways. With a sickening crash, he knocked the lamp flying, cracked his temple on the corner of the bedside table and slumped to the floor unconscious.
Unable to believe her luck, Rebecca tried to squirm free of her bonds. It was then that she smelled the smoke. Turning sideways in horror, she saw flames flickering from beside the bedside table. “Oh God, no!” The lamp had broken and the fire was spreading. She struggled frantically to free her wrists, but paranoia had driven Claude to making them escape proof. Panicked tears streamed down Rebecca’s face and she watched in horror as a smoldering Hessian rug caught alight.
Sliding her legs off the bed, she kicked at Claude’s motionless body, shouting, “WAKE UP! CLAUDE! WAKE UP!” Claude didn’t budge. The flames had crept up along the side of the bedside table and were licking their way towards the timber bed frame. Feeling the searing heat across her cheeks validated the death sentence she felt in the pit of her belly. Rebecca realized that everything in this deathtrap was wood. All of it would respond swiftly, gladly, to the consuming flames.
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The drive to Hogsback was tedious, slow and thick with tension. Jason felt consumed with doubt, and he worried that he was leading the whole group on a wild goose chase. Maybe Claude had left the brochure open on purpose to mislead them. Maybe it was a many-houred trap that they had walked into so gullibly, leaving Claude free to do what he pleased with Rebecca way back in East London.
These thoughts churned in head and soured his stomach. And God was silent. In the beginning, Jason would have given ANYTHING to make the voice go away, yet now when he really needed it—silence. It just didn’t make any sense.
Oh God, I really thought I heard You about these cabins. Now I just don’t know. I guess there’s nothing for it but to carry on until You tell me to turn around and go somewhere else. I know I can hear Your voice because I’ve heard You before.
He waited, listening.
Nothing.
Anytime now, God. You need to tell me if I’m going the wrong direction.
Again, he waited.
Nothing.
Somehow the silence just wasn’t as convincing as the voice he’d come to expect. Giving in to a childish urge born out of fear, he tackled God once again.
Okay, that’s fine. Wild goose chase it is. I’ll just keep heading off into blue yonder. Whatever.
He cringed a little as the last bit of attitude snuck out.
Tim, riding next to him as navigator, saved him from his mental debate, “Hogsback turn to your right coming up… round about…. here. Okay, we’ve got approximately another 45 minutes of driving time.”
Shane yawned loudly from the back. “We’re going to have to find somewhere to spend the night. I’m pooped.”
“I’m not sleeping till Rebecca’s safe.” Jason’s voice was quiet, but determined.
“Just kidding! Lover boy’s lost his sense of humor.”
Tim was completely lost, “Who is lover boy? What am I missing?”
Jason looked grim, “Never mind, Tim. Shane is just being his normal obnoxious self.”
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The sign at the reception hut at the Rustic Wood Retreat boasted 24-hour service, yet there was not a soul to be seen. “That’s strange. There’s no one here, but the place isn’t even locked up.” Tim had gone with Jason to find out about a place
to stay. Also to surreptitiously see if Hogsbackers were more open to discussing their guests than East Londoners.
“Jason, there’s a sign here saying the cabins are this way. Let’s follow this path and see what we can find.”
Running back to the vehicle, they motioned for Stanton and Lisa to follow in their Mercedes, and headed uphill. They smelled the smoke before they saw it. Thick billows of blackness rising into the night sky, the origin of which lay behind a broad bank of trees.
Rounding the last bend, Jason’s heart caught. An entire cabin had caught alight and was blazing violently, hungry flames licking through window frames. Parking away from the heat of the blaze, they all climbed out and stared in horror. Locals had formed a long bucket line from the nearby stream and were working desperately against the blaze. Off to one side stood an elderly lady, face grim.
Jason approached her, shouting to be heard above the roar of the flames, “Excuse me Ma’am. Is there anything we can do?”
Not taking her eyes off the blaze, she replied, “No. Nothing.” Black soot marks up her arms spoke of her part in trying to kill the fire.
Turning to Jason, she apologized, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Rosemary Wingrove, owner of this place.” She held out a sooty hand, only to withdraw it when she saw how filthy it was. “The forestry people are on the way with a proper fire-fighting vehicle. I’m still in a bit of a shock. If you folk are looking for accommodation, there’s a hotel a little further up the main road. You’d best try them.”
“Actually, we were looking for two people that we believe came up here to spend the night.” He dug around in his pocket and brought out Rebecca’s photo, and flipped open his cell phone to the picture of Claude. “Did these two check in here by any chance?”
The woman reached out to steady the photo and Jason saw her hand begin to tremble. “I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean? Have you seen these two?”
Rosemary’s bottom lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. “They checked into this cabin around supper time.”
“Maybe they got out. Has anyone looked?”
“The fire had already spread throughout the cabin when we got here. His vehicle is still here. None of the doors or windows were open. If they were still inside, I can’t see that they got out alive.”
The fire-truck arrived, lights and sirens blaring and flashing.
“I have to go. I’m sorry for the loss of your friends.”
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“Let’s go help.” Shane was already stripping off his jacket as he made the suggestion.
Following his lead, they shook off excess clothing and joined the bucket line. The firemen got to work on the hottest part of the blaze. The bucket line continued putting out the smaller peripheral fires that could spread the blaze to the rest of the forest. It felt better to be doing something; none of them were ready to face reality
Thoughts crashed through Jason’s head. How could this be the end? He’d been through so much. The unfairness of it all ripped through his soul. Was it a curse that he carried that claimed all those who mattered to him?
All the old feelings that had driven him from God when Nicole died came bubbling up – threatening to overwhelm him. His insides were in complete turmoil. Pulling himself out the chain, he said to Tim, “I’ll be back now.”
Heading away from the gutted cabin, his feet found a path heading upwards and he followed it. Soon he saw a moonlit clearing off to the left. Taking out his cell phone, he made his way through the trees to the clearing and sat on the dew-dampened grass. He really needed to phone Mom, but it was three in the morning. Anger swung the debate.
You know what God, if You’re not going to speak to me, Mom will. He dialed her number. It rang and rang. He was just about to end the call, when her sleep-fuzzed voice answered, “Jason? Are you okay?”
“Hi Mom, yes and no.” The words spewed out of him like champagne from a shaken bottle. “You remember that girl I spoke to you about? Well, we’re up in Hogsback and it looks like she—” he swallowed hard, “—got trapped in a burning cabin. Mom, I don’t know if she’s even alive. How can this all have been for nothing? The worst part is God’s not speaking to me. I don’t know if He’s fed up with me, or what. I’ve given my life to Him, Mom, what more does He want? Why is He ignoring me now when I need Him most?” A gut-wrenching sob tore loose from his throat. Born of frustration and fear, hope and disappointment – exhaustion. It all came flooding out as he doubled over, sobbing.
“Jason, listen to me. God speaks to us in many ways. The audible way He’s been speaking to you, is extremely unusual, very rare—” The line crackled, and his Mom’s voice faded in and out. “—ost of us have never had the privilege of hearing His voice like that. He knew how to get your attention, and He did!”
“Yes, and look where it’s got me. In the middle of nowhere, dying inside.”
“Shhh! Listen. I have a couple who’ve just started Ballroom dancing, Frank and Amy.”
“Mom, please—” The weeping had stopped, but Jason was in no mood for stories.
“Jason, keep quiet and listen. They hold far away from each other, bodies not touching at all. They often start moving at different times, and they step on each other’s toes a lot. To keep in time, Frank counts out aloud. They’re managing to move around the floor, but it’s messy. Now think of Clay and Shelley. They’ve been dancing together for four years. They dance so closely together that they move as one. In fact Shelley was telling me, that the mere tensing of Clay’s muscles tells her when to move and which direction to go. What I’m saying is this: the closer you get to God, the more in tune with His Holy Spirit you will be. He won’t need to speak to you so often, because you’ll be used to moving to the leading of His Spirit. Yes?”
“Okay. But Mom – if He could take Nics from us, what’s to stop Him taking Rebecca? What do I do now? There is no evidence that they survived. Nothing.”
The line crackled again, “—does your heart say?”
It took a long time for Jason to answer, “I don’t believe she’s dead. But then I’m probably just in denial.”
“No buts. You don’t believe she’s dead – then act like it. Ask God to show you and don’t rest until you find her, or He tells you otherwise. I’ll be praying for you.”
“I know. Thanks Mom.”
He was about to hang up when Faye spoke again, “Remember that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him—” Silence. His phone had lost the signal.
“No, no, NO!” He thumped the ground in frustration.
“Jason!” Shane and Tim appeared through the trees, breathing fast. Kenneth arrived moments later, panting and pale. “They’ve managed to put out most of the fire inside the cabin. The guys from the Forestry department have had a look inside, and so far, they haven’t found evidence of people inside. They seem to think that it was empty when the place went up.”
Jason’s heart leapt.
Tim shook his head, “There’s more. Above the bed, there’s a huge hole ripped in the roof. Weirdest thing they’ve ever seen.”
Jason’s stomach heaved. God, please help. You’re our only hope. “Let’s get back to Stanton and Lisa. We’re going to need strong flashlights to check the ground for evidence of their escape. Tim, now’s a good time for you to start praying!”
Chapter 30 - Freedom
It was the cold that woke Rebecca. Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees, pale and wintry. She lay there for a moment thinking that she would give anything to wake up in the same place for more than a night at a time. Slowly conscious thought surfaced, and with it memories that froze her insides. The fire! Her skin tingled at the memory of the hungry flames. In that moment she’d known she was going to die.
The chasm between certain death and waking on the frozen forest floor was a jumble of contradictory images that stung at her mind like angry wasps. Fiery snakes and flying. None of it made a
ny sense.
Lying there she wept, not having the energy to move. The cut on her forehead ached, angry and swollen with infection. A sweat broke out on her forehead, evidence that the Paracetamol was wearing off. Soon she would be wracked with fever chills. “Oh, Lord. What now?”
With startling intensity, the words from Isaiah blazed through her mind, “When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
She looked at her unmarred hands in wonder. “You really meant what you said! Every word You speak is true. I know now that nothing is beyond Your reach. I don’t understand why You love me so completely, but Thank You, Lord!”
Feeling a small surge of energy, Rebecca rolled onto her side and bumped into a body. It was Claude. The wound that had knocked him out had bled freely down the side of face and into his hair. His face was a mess of blood, but there didn’t seem to be any fresh wetness. Whether he was unconscious or dead Rebecca couldn’t guess and didn’t care to find out. Forcing her cold-stiffened body upright, Rebecca stood to her feet and started to creep away. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was away from him.
She’d hardly moved ten steps when her insides forced a halt. Against every ounce of good sense, she turned to look back. Claude hadn’t budged. He lay still on the frozen ground, frail and pathetic. An unwanted action man, prey to a boy’s fickle loyalties.
And then she saw something that made her heart break.
A small boy crouched close to the ground next to Claude, with tears streaming down his face. In his eyes she saw a depth of despair that caught her heart. She rubbed her eyes furiously and blinked hard. The boy was still there, but hazy and indistinct, fading even as she stared. Recognition dawned for Rebecca as she remembered seeing pictures of Kenneth and Claude as boys, mounted with pride above the fireplace in the lounge back at the Rochester’s farm. She had glimpsed the boy that had been Claude. Fearful, lonely… misunderstood. It all made perfect sense.
Shackles: The truth will set you free Page 22