“Your brother needs you more. Come.” Nikolas hauled him to his feet, caught a look from Jackson, and together they dragged Ruben until his feet took over for himself, and then Nikolas picked up the pace. He took them straight down to the lakeshore and then along the pebbled beach. He didn’t want to stay in the forest for longer than he had to.
They arrived back to find Ben and his group sitting happily in the sun, chatting and eating. It was like waking from a nightmare you knew was real and knowing you were now going to bring that darkness with you into the innocence of the light.
§ § §
Ben heard Nikolas returning and expected to see Jonas Terry with him. He frowned as Nikolas came over and squatted next to him.
“We need to talk.”
Ben felt a prickle of anxiety at something in Nikolas’s expression and tone, so he rose unquestioningly to his feet, and went with him a little way off to one side.
“We have to leave now. Pack everything that can be carried. We’ll go south as planned along—”
“Did you find Jonas?”
“I’ll tell you later. Just listen, and do as I say. Pack; distribute the weight between the men. You and I carry the best of the weapons. Now, Ben. We need to leave now.”
Ben nodded and went to supervise the abandonment of the camp. They had some meat left, and that morning, he and Emilia had taken four fish off their line, but they’d not cooked them yet. Other than that, there was only the weapons which they’d spent the morning fashioning. Emilia had made some small stabbing knives with surgical blades inserted into willow handles and bound tightly with wet sinew. She was very pleased with them, and Ben had helped her strap them, concealed, to her thigh, as he wore his knife. She’d given one to Samuel, too, and he was wearing his strapped to his arm. He was now on his knees with his brother, both of them crying, Samuel trying to get Ruben to tell him what he’d seen. Ben ignored them and concentrated on ensuring the others were ready. Within ten minutes, the little group was walking south along the lakeshore. Nikolas was flanking them, just prowling through the woods to one side. Ben came up and joined him. “So?”
§ § §
Nikolas took a breath and told Ben about Jonas Terry. He left nothing out, even told him of the man’s final insanity. Although Terry had been raving from the pain, Nikolas felt there’d been a message in the insanity he should be able to understand. Ben’s face was pale, his green eyes enormous in his face.
“You’re going to walk us out.” It was a statement not a question. It was the only thing they could do. They couldn’t stay and be picked off one by one. They couldn’t stay and defend themselves, for something far worse than even this new enemy was surely coming. Winter was coming for its dispassionate harvest of life. Their only hope lay in fleeing. Nikolas’s theory was if they could make twenty miles a day, in a week they’d be over a hundred miles from this accursed place. He didn’t believe whoever had killed Jonas Terry would leave this place to follow them that far. He had to believe it. They had no choices left. They had plenty of water and, if necessary, could survive this week without eating. They could survive with very little food for many weeks more than that, but he hoped one week would be enough. They’d keep to the riverbanks as much as possible and head south. If Jonas Terry’s killers did track them for a while, he doubted they’d attack during the day. Far easier to pick them off at night.
Nikolas glanced over at Ben. Ben was walking steadily. He didn’t ask him how his leg was, because asking was now irrelevant. The leg was how it was. He had to walk or die. Fortunately for Nikolas, Jackson and Lucas had seen and shared the horror of Jonas Terry’s death, so there was no need to motivate them to leave and walk and keep walking. They appeared to have impressed on Sean Sands the need to leave, and despite his objection to physical activity, he too was up and moving. Ruben and Samuel were, so far, in too much shock to do anything else but trail after the herd. Ulyana Ivanovna was walking arm in arm with Emilia. The girl was stumbling; her face was streaked with tears, which she was trying to wipe away. He put a hand on Ben’s arm and nodded toward them. “Tell Emilia I want to speak with her.” Ben frowned but did as he asked.
Emilia was clearly very reluctant to leave her grandmother’s side and approach Nikolas, but at Ben’s urging, she did. Nikolas walked alongside her for a while, studying her without actually appearing to do so. “Ben tells me you’re a very good shot now with your sling. Can you show me?”
She nodded, took a pebble out of her pocket, searched around for something to hit and very neatly hit Ben’s backside as he was walking with Ulyana Ivanovna.
Nikolas smiled, something he’d not seen himself doing much of again after finding Jonas, and it felt good. “Do you know what keeps people alive when all seems lost, Emilia? It’s not your own desire to live, although that can be a very powerful thing. It’s the desire to keep alive someone you love.” She was listening to him with great attention, her tears now stopped. “You’ve lost your faith in everything. I see this in you as a mirror of myself when I was the same age as you. But trust me when I tell you this, Emilia, you can have faith in me, for what I want to live, my desire, is walking over there with your grandmother, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, nothing in this world that can defeat me, when I’m motivated to keep Benjamin Rider alive. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” She glanced up for a moment then gave a quick nod. “But don’t tell Ben I’ve admitted any of this. You’ll find as you grow older that it’s best not to tell people just how much you love them, for the uncertainty of not knowing makes them want you more. Agreed?”
At her nod, he continued, “Good, now to practical things. You must walk now, and it’ll be hard for a few days, but then you’ll get used to it and your muscles will get stronger. Don’t struggle silently if you need help. It’s not because you’re a girl I say this. One night, to amuse you, I might tell you how and why I now have a great deal of respect for the female of the species. Librarians in particular. But we’ll save that story. It’s because you don’t have shoes or clothing for this. Samuel and Ruben will struggle, too. So, ask for help before you need it. Don’t hide injuries: blisters, cuts, bites. Okay?” She nodded again, far more alert now and thinking clearly. She pointed at Ben. He looked thoughtfully in the same direction. “Yes, good point. Watch him. He’s very stubborn and won’t tell me if he needs help. If you think he does, you tell me. Now, go back to your grandmother. Give her your arm again to help her, and let her talk to you in Russian. Your Russian is still embarrassingly bad.” She made a small noise of amusement and trotted over to the group walking along the beach.
Nikolas picked up the pace. Within two hours, they were at the southern end of the lake where it formed into a river and crashed out through the glacial debris. It was very hard to walk along the riverbank, for it had collapsed in places at times of flood and was a mass of ripped-up tree roots and broken branches. It took a long time to scramble over each obstacle and then down the other side. They had no option but to walk in the forest. It was horrible. The green was oppressive, dark and forbidding. Although the going was easy on the soft pine needles, it was like walking naked, illuminated on a runway in some nightmarish fever dream. Ulyana Ivanovna whispered to Nikolas that her skin was crawling, as if she could feel eyes upon them, and the constant fear something would come out of the dark forestry around them—a rock, an arrow, perhaps worse—set her nerves on edge. Nikolas could see the same mental exhaustion wearing down the rest of the group, just as the physical exertion now began to take its toll. Nikolas wouldn’t let them rest, however. He allowed them periods of slower walking, but stopping wasn’t an option.
As soon as it started to get dark, he took them back to the river. They set up a small camp with their back to the water, sharpened sticks facing toward the forest and their other weapons laid out near to hand. He told them to sleep as much as they could, which he knew wouldn’t be a great deal. He sat for a few minutes with Ulyana Ivanovna and asked her in Russian, “
How is he?”
She replied quietly, “He’s bleeding. But that might be a good thing if it doesn’t weaken him too much, for it’ll keep infection out. Maybe. He’s very strong.”
Nikolas nodded. “Bandage him up before the light goes and see he eats some of the meat.”
He wouldn’t let them light a fire. There was the smallest possible chance they’d already moved beyond the interest of the men in the forest, but he doubted it. When the small group had settled, wary and facing the trees but trying to rest, he reapplied the thick river mud to his face and hands, slipped quietly up to Ben and just laid a hand on his head before disappearing into the darkness.
It was time to hunt the hunters.
He chose a place where he could see the riverbank, although it was too dark to make out individual bodies. Silently, he swung himself into a tree again and settled down to watch. He was very tired now and knew staying awake would be hard. It was noticeably colder than the first night they’d spent in the forest. It was their first night without a fire and without hot food.
§ § §
Sean was desperate now, all thoughts of payback gone.
He just needed to stop this walking shit.
He’d been trying to work it out all day. The blond fucker possibly weighed in at about one-sixty. He was nothing more than a streak of piss with shoulders. Pretty boy was heavier, had muscle on a perfect body that probably earned him a tidy sum on his back, so maybe one-eighty? If the Russian had to carry pretty boy, he’d still be the little mute’s weight short of what he, Sean Sands, was carrying.
He just needed to stop.
Something had to be done, only he had no idea what that something was.
He’d never seen a lawyer cry before. He’d fantasised about making one of the scumbags do it more than once, but actually seen it? Nope. Never thought to either. But Jackson had been…frantic? Hysterical? Not so cool then.
But fucking hell, skinned alive, you didn’t see that even in Brownsville!
What a fucking nightmare this was turning out to be!
Had to move…had to walk…couldn’t walk…
Something had to be done, only Sean Sands had no idea what that something was—yet.
§ § §
They came in the early hours of the morning, in the witching hour, which is when Nikolas would have come, had their situations been reversed. He saw two figures visible only by their movement, which gave them away when everything else was still. They came very slowly, crawling on their bellies and elbows like obscene, legless creatures of prey. He watched them from his perch. He didn’t think they were intending to attack. They were too few in number to attack a group of eight. They were here for observation, perhaps an opportunistic visit to see if they could pluck out another victim, find another of the group alone or undefended.
They found Nikolas, and it didn’t go well for them.
He descended upon them, landing in a squat, his knife in his teeth. He took one out from behind with a savage twist of the head, the popping of the neck bones incredibly loud in the still night. The second one he threw himself upon and pressed his knife to the man’s eye, his hand over a stinking mouth. The man’s eyes widened. Nikolas asked very quietly, “Russian?” and pressed the knife into the flesh below the eye, where with one tiny motion he could scoop it out. The man didn’t nod but opened his mouth. Nikolas stared at the severed stump of tongue in confusion for a moment, memories surfacing. Suddenly, taking advantage of Nikolas’s distraction, the man seized onto the knife and jerked it into his eye, and further, into his brain.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ben didn’t sleep for hours. He’d felt Nikolas’s hand on his head, a touch of love and benediction, then he had watched him fade into the night. He listened to the breathing of the group around him, to the light snores from Ulyana Ivanovna, and thought. He thought about what Nikolas had said to him about sacrifice. He knew he couldn’t walk as they’d done today for many more days. He’d bled all day, a slow seepage that hadn’t stopped. He needed to rest and for the wound to seal, and then he could walk. But Nikolas wouldn’t leave him, so he had to leave Nikolas. He had no particular intention of doing a Captain Oates. There was no need. He could survive here on his own as he healed, and then he’d follow them out. But he knew Nikolas wouldn’t be persuaded of the sense of his plan. If their situations were reversed, he wouldn’t leave Nikolas; so there it was, the dilemma that kept him awake that night: how and when to slip away from the group. He’d give it another day. Miracles sometimes did happen. His leg might be better for the cleansing blood loss. He doubted it, but it was nice to think about, as he lay cold and hungry on the pebbles of the riverbank.
§ § §
Nikolas was squatting by the group, watching them as they woke. One by one, they’d all dozed off after their physically and mentally exhausting day. As soon as they were awake, he had them on their feet and ready to walk. They were all very hungry, but no one spoke of it. Ulyana Ivanovna could hardly walk at all for the first few minutes, as she’d stiffened up overnight on the hard ground. Nikolas gave her a bar of chocolate and told her if she didn’t eat it he wouldn’t give one to Emilia. She ate it. He gave one to the girl, which, he noted with a small stab of gratitude in his heart, she shared with Ben. Ben was like a silent, pale ghost of muscle and determination. In the daylight, walking with them, Nikolas could see Ben’s trouser leg was caked with dried blood. He wasn’t limping noticeably though and was keeping pace with the group. He didn’t ask him how he was, for he knew Ben would merely say he was fine.
He needed to talk to him though, so he gave him a private look and slowed. Ben relaxed his pace too, and soon they were out of hearing of the others. Just in case, Nikolas murmured in Danish, “We had visitors last night.” He stilled Ben’s look of alarm by adding quickly, “They’re dead.”
“Did you have a chance to question them? Why are they doing this? What do they want?”
Nikolas sighed and told Ben how the men had died. “Even if he hadn’t killed himself he wouldn’t have talked. He’d had his tongue cut out.”
“Jesus!”
“It wasn’t recent, and I’ve seen such mutilation before.” He glanced at Ben. “Prisoners in the work camps would cut out the tongue of a fellow inmate if he was informing for the guards.”
“You think he was an ex-prisoner from a work camp?”
“Many escaped. I don’t know. It’s possible.”
Ben was silent for a while, clearly thinking about this. “Maybe that’s why he killed himself. Maybe he thought you’d come to take him back.” He waved vaguely at Nikolas’s appearance. “The accent, the way you speak.”
“I only asked him if he spoke Russian. Am I that scary men kill themselves on encountering me?” He liked this idea and smirked inappropriately, thinking about the desperate man. “We won’t know now. I killed the wrong one first. At least there are two fewer of them.”
“They’re not going to be too happy about that, though, are they?”
It was a good motivator for Nikolas to make the group pick up the pace. He allowed stops only for water and comfort breaks throughout the morning, but other than that kept them to the same pace as the day before. He was exhausted now having not slept for over two days. He dozed on his feet as he walked. He was jerked awake by a shout. The whole group stopped. Samuel Terry was staring wildly around. “Ruben!” Nikolas put a hand over the boy’s mouth.
“Be quiet. What’s wrong?”
“My brother! He’s gone. He was just here, walking. He’s gone!” Nikolas could see this for himself. He looked up to the heavens for a moment, cursing his fate to be lumbered with these people. They wouldn’t need to be picked off if they kept just wandering off by themselves! He saw panic setting into the group. Ben had faded into the dark of the trees, scouting around. He waved Nikolas over to a set of footprints leading off from theirs at an angle back the way they’d come. Nikolas returned to the group and crouched down by the youngest Terry. “Did he
say anything? What was he thinking?”
“I don’t know! He kept saying you hadn’t buried him. That he should have a Christian burial.”
“Fuck.” Nikolas turned despairingly to Ben and pleaded in Danish, “We can’t go back for him.” Ben stared at him for a long time. Nikolas clenched his jaw. Ben clenched his. “All right! We’ll make camp, and I’ll go back for him!” He added something in Russian. He knew Ben wouldn’t understand it, but if Ben saw Ulyana Ivanovna’s expression, he would know it wasn’t one of the more loving things he’d ever said to him.
They returned to the riverbank and made a defensive, temporary camp once more. Nikolas reasoned that as they’d probably already alerted every maniacal killer in a thousand-mile radius by shouting and generally pissing around, they might as well light a fire and cook some food. He was exhausted, and he was hungry, and he couldn’t believe he was going to have to retrace all his steps that day to search for a man who probably wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire. He allowed himself time to eat some of the fish and also took a chocolate bar out of the bag and ate it all in front of Ben, making appreciative expressions. Ben only narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, as if such a childish display was beneath his dignity to comment on.
Nikolas was just carefully stowing away the chocolate wrapper when the first scream came piercingly out of the forest. They all flinched—even Nikolas. Samuel shot to his feet. “Ruben!” Nikolas stood as well. Another scream. It was horrible, tortured. Coming out of the darkness and menace of the trees, it made the whole scene a surreal nightmare. Ben was crouched by Emilia, arm around her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. The other men slowly rose to their feet, desperate not to hear another scream but listening intently for one, nevertheless. They weren’t disappointed. Samuel tried to run toward the sound but Lucas and Sean Sands held him back. Jackson came over to stand with Nikolas. “What should we do?”
Nikolas was thinking on this. Whatever was happening to Ruben was probably beyond their control now. This was being done for effect, to weaken their resistance. The best thing to do would be to just walk away from it, deny them the pleasure of the torment. But he had a feeling not only would Ben baulk at this, the others would refuse to leave the man, too. Another scream rent the air. He’d not thought they could become more awful, but each one was more heartrending than the last. He wasn’t unmoved by them. He pulled out his knife and took a breath. “Keep everyone here. I’ll help him if I can.” He went to Ben and pulled him away from the rest. “This is the perfect way for them to split the group and make us vulnerable. They may be watching us now and will see me leave. I’m playing into their hands by doing this.”
The Bridge of Silver Wings Page 9