by Tony Butler
“No, I’ll come with you. I’d like to say my good-byes to them, if you don’t mind that is,” Jay said.
“Me, too,” said Mary.
“Of course I don’t mind. Mom and Dad would have wanted that. After all, you are family,” he said.
Jay was touched and decided that Mary and Scott deserved to know the truth about what had happened to her last weekend. They might want her to go into hiding or something.
“This Death Dancer, do you think he’ll come after you here?” Scott asked quietly, once Jay had finished her story. “I think that I’d better contact a friend of mine, he’s into security in a big way. After Mom and Dad were…well, I had him come over here and check out the security, but after I’ve told him about you, he may want to review it.”
“The police don’t think that he will, so please don’t go to any more trouble because of me.”
“Jay!” he said firmly. “You can forget that. As I said before, you are family.”
She was touched by both his and Mary’s concern for her, but didn’t really think the killer would come looking for her over here and, anyway, America was a huge country. Finding her would be like looking for the proverbial needle—almost impossible.
* * * *
Russell lowered his binoculars and eased himself up from the ground where he’d been laying as he surveyed the approach to the Williams house. He’d recognised the girl immediately and was tempted to forego his ritual with the Beretta and simply kill her using the snipers rifle that he’d kept as a souvenir from Vietnam. Janine had caught the flight before Jay Williams’ and he’d met her at JF
Kennedy Airport. After installing Janine in the airport hotel, Russell had simply followed Jay and Mary to South Hudson.
He took another look at the Williams girl. She’d be an easy target and perhaps it would be wise to get it over with—end it now. But on the other hand, he’d never derived as much pleasure from resorting to a long-range kill, because the victim never had time to experience the terror of impending death. He’d almost made that mistake at the hospital, and he had savoured the terror in the eyes of the moron who’d driven into him. Russell was damned if he was going to give up his trademark. He’d get the girl tomorrow night after the funeral. Right now, he could do with a little sleep. This jet lag really was catching up with him. Yawning, he made his way down the hill to the car.
Chapter Twenty
The Devil’s Footprint – England
The first of the other tribes to arrive was the blondes, six young men and twelve girls, one of whom was pregnant. Their leader was a boy of about Adam’s age called Oliver who was obviously pleased to see Josh, and they embraced warmly.
“What’s happening, Josh? Why the urgent summons and is that food I can smell cooking?”
“Oliver, this is Adam,” Josh said. “He’s the reason I sent for you. He says he knows how we can escape, and so I sent for you and Callum, to discuss it.”
Oliver looked at Adam thoughtfully. “When did you arrive?” he asked.
“I was born here, if you can call being created in a test tube being born. I will explain everything later when the others arrive. They are just coming over the hill now.” Adam pointed.
“I can’t see them,” Josh said. “Can you, Oliver?”
“No, oh, wait a minute. Yes they’re just coming over the top. You must have good eyesight, Adam,” Oliver said. “I only hope that Callum isn’t looking for trouble because I’m getting tired of him trying to take over. You’d better watch your back, Josh. Knowing him, he’ll be ready to try something.”
Adam waited until the red-haired newcomers entered the village and had no trouble in identifying their leader. Callum was almost a head taller than the other boys, broader across the chest and he carried a homemade spear.
“This had better be important, Josh. Now what do you want?” Callum demanded, his face within a few inches of Josh’s.
“Callum!” the tone of Adam’s voice caused everyone including Callum to turn towards him.
“Get something to eat now, and stop wasting time.”
Callum, his face red with anger, strode towards him. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” He stopped and frowned. “And who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“Adam. I’m the reason you’re all here. We’re going to escape, and soon we’ll all be free.” Adam heard the excited murmurs from the others.
“You’ll get us all killed, you stupid bastard!” Callum towered over Adam, his fists clenched in anger. “I’m going to hand you over to the house and as for you, Josh, you’ll end up in the swamp with that bitch, Sara.”
“I can’t let you do that, Callum,” Adam said quietly. “No more members of the tribes will be thrown into the swamps or made to breed like dogs. We are going to escape.”
“Fuck you!” Callum roared. Moving quickly, he jabbed the spear towards Adam’s chest. Adam caught the spear with one hand and casually held on to it, stopping its progress. Callum’s eyes widened in surprise but he recovered quickly and brought his other hand into play. Gripping the spear with both hands, he thrust forward with all his strength, but instead of moving towards Adam, the spear started to bend. Using just the one hand, Adam pushed him slowly backwards.
“Get him!” Callum yelled and Adam turned to face the boys with red hair who’d advanced towards him from behind. Four of them carried homemade spears and the other boy held a club. Instead of backing away from them, Adam thrust Callum backwards and then sprang towards his other attackers, eluding their spear thrusts and blows with ease. He wrenched their weapons from their hands, disarming them, then turned to see Josh and the others looking at him in amazement. He grinned at them as he hurled the weapons away. “Lock Callum in one of the huts and then I’ll tell you how we’re going to escape from here.”
Oliver and Josh worked well together, Adam thought as they manhandled the thick PVC lid off the water tank. It was almost a half an inch thick and measured eight feet by four feet, which made it awkward to handle despite the fact that it wasn’t very heavy. There was an eight-inch lip on its edges to prevent it being blown off in high winds, and two more identical lids were being collected from the other two villages.
Turning on his heel, he walked to the hut where Callum was being held guarded by four of the other boys. His hands were tied behind his back. He looked sullen as Adam entered the hut.
Adam said nothing until after he’d untied the boy’s hands. “We’re going to need your help, Callum,” he said.
“What do you need me for? I thought that you could do anything.”
“We need you because you’re a fighter, Callum, and a leader. It’s just that you’ve been concentrating on taking over the leadership of the tribes instead of using your natural skills to help them. But that’s not your fault. You thought you had no choice but to accept that you were up against impossible odds, fighting against men with guns when all you had was sticks, and so you decided to make the best of it. You took what you could while you could, but now you can help lead the tribes to freedom, and so take your revenge on the men from the house.
“Look, escaping isn’t going to be easy. Initially only three of us are going out to find help –
Josh, Oliver and me. But someone has to protect the tribes against any possible reprisals, and so I’d like you either to take my place and escape with Josh and Oliver, or to stay and help the others.”
“I can take your place?”
“Yes, if that’s what you want. We’re having a meeting in five minutes so you can decide what you want to do then. Now, let’s get out of here and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
Callum followed him over to the hut and Adam explained how he planned to use the three tank lids as stepping-stones across the marshes. “We’ll slide the first lid in first and then put the next one alongside it. Two of us will climb onto the first one and use sticks to guide the second lid in front of us and then we’ll get onto that one and the other two will get onto
the one we’ve just moved off. The third lid will be guided until it’s in front of us again and so on. It will take a long time but we should make it alright.”
“It should work,” Callum said. “But have you worked out how to get over the electric fence and past the dogs and then over the outer fence?”
Oliver and Josh had wandered over to them and were standing listening. If they were surprised to see that Callum was free, they were hiding it well, Adam thought.
“Yes, we’ll lean one of the lids against the fences. It’s made of PVC and should insulate us from the electricity. We’ll probably have to cut toe and hand holds in it, though. What I had in mind was fastening two of the lids together with rope, end to end and then sliding the first one up and over the top to protect us from the razor wire. We would need a couple of ropes to tie on both corners of the leading lid to hold it up in position until the second lid is flat against the fence. When the ropes are released, the first lid should drop and span both fences and then we will not have to worry about the dogs.”
“It’s going to take four people, not three,” Callum said thoughtfully, and then he laughed. “You crafty bastard, Adam. You already knew that, didn’t you?”
Adam nodded. “Yes, we could have used someone else, but to give ourselves the best chance, we need to use the best people.” He held out his hand and Callum shook it and then Josh and Oliver’s. All the boys grinned broadly.
“Welcome to the team, Callum,” Josh said.
Adam stepped onto the lid and it started to tip and he leapt back onto the bank. “We’re going to have to lash stabilisers to the lids,” he said. He pointed to the eight inch lip. “If we cut some holes along here on both sides, we can thread some poles though and tie some floats to them.”
Josh nodded. “I know where we can get the poles. We won’t need the chicken pen anymore, but finding floats could be a problem!”
“We’ll use the tanks,” Adam said.
It was getting towards dusk when they finally stood back and admired their handiwork. The two lids had poles that ran width ways through the holes that the boys had cut in the lips. The floats were triangular sections cut from each end of the water tanks. The poles from the lids were threaded through holes that they’d cut into the two topmost edges of the “V” shaped floats and lashed into place with rope. Now the lids on which they’d be standing were raised three feet above the surface of the marsh, supported by the floats.
“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Adam said. “It’s too late now and we need to get some rest.”
It was early the next morning when Adam inched off the platform and balanced himself on top of the float on his left, expecting the raft to start tipping at any moment. Oliver was ready to jump onto the other float if it did, but the raft remained steady.
Oliver stepped onto the other float and grinned. “So far, so good. Now, let’s see if we can paddle this thing.” He dipped his paddle into the mire and pulled. The raft started to move and then Adam used his paddle. With a clumsy twisting motion, the raft slowly edged away from the bank. The spectators on the shore gave a cheer as Callum and Josh’s raft slowly edged out behind Adam’s. After about ten minutes, the shore was almost hidden by the white rising mist, but Adam knew that they had only moved about fifteen metres and, despite the chill, Oliver was sweating and breathing heavily. Soon he would have to rest.
He took the spare paddles and lashed them together and then repeated the operation with his and the paddle that Oliver relinquished to him.
“I’m making a pair of extended oars,” Adam explained. “I’m going to try and row the raft from the platform.”
He stood on the platform, braced his legs and pulled back on the oars as it surged forwards. It had been easier than Adam had thought and he repeated the operation. As the raft’s forward momentum ended, he saw that the gap between the two rafts had widened by almost five metres.
“Callum!” he called. “Catch the rope and tie it to your raft and I’ll try and give you a tow!”
He took the coil of blue nylon rope and, holding firmly onto one end of it, he threw the other end towards Callum’s out-stretched hands. Callum caught it and he and Josh secured their end to the central platform of the raft. Adam pulled in the slack before fastening it to his raft. Once again he took the oars and pulled until he felt his muscles protesting against the strain. The rafts started to move and he quickly rowed again, taking advantage of the momentum. Push, lower, pull, lift. Push, lower, pull…it was like a litany in his head, everything except the rhythm was banished from his mind –
push, lower, pull…
* * * *
Jeremy Marchant tried to hide his nervousness as the doctors prepared him for the operation due to be performed in just under two hours time.
“The keyhole surgery we’ll be using will cause you the minimum of discomfort during your recovery, Prime Minister, but you really need to rest for about three months afterwards,” Sir Samuel Jaggart, the surgeon, said.
“Well, I think I can arrange to make a state visit somewhere where my body double can take over my public duties. Yes, I’ll get my private secretary on to it as soon as the operation’s over. Now, what about the girl?”
“I’m afraid she will not survive the operation, Prime Minister, however her other organs will be removed and kept in storage. Professor Hardley of Cambridge University is confident that he can successfully clone her.”
“Good, but I think I would like to see her. You know—see what she looks like.”
“I would strongly advise against it, sir. It’s better if you never know who she was.”
“Perhaps, but that’s my decision. Please have her brought to my room.”
“She’s undergoing preparation at the moment. I’ll have her brought to you as soon as she’s ready, perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, certainly no longer than that. We’ll be giving you a pre-op injection at ten-thirty am, so if you’ve no objections we can do the girl’s injection at the same time?”
“Splendid, I’ll not forget this!” Jeremy said. As he picked up his copy of the Times, he wondered what that fool Thompson, his deputy, would be getting up to during Jeremy’s enforced absence. Finally, being rid of Roger Thompson permanently was going to a real pleasure. He was day-dreaming when they wheeled the girl in. She was strapped onto a hospital trolley and he could see that she was naked beneath the green sheet that covered her from the neck down. She was a pretty little thing, he thought, and wondered if anybody had even bothered to find out her name? Probably not. It was 9.30am and in another hour they would both be wheeled into the theatre, but only he would be coming out alive. He supposed that he ought to thank her for giving up her life for his, but not until they were alone.
“Leave her with me until we go to the theatre,” he said. The doctor merely shrugged and left the room.
“Now, my dear, what do they call you?” he asked as he walked over to her. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes and he could see how her wrists were chafed and sore from struggling against her restraints. “Do you know what’s going to happen to you?” he asked. “You are giving up one of your kidneys to save my life, to save the life of the Prime Minister. No, don’t be frightened because my doctors have assured me that you can still lead a normal, healthy life with just the one.”
He saw the light of hope appear in her eyes and he gave her his most sincere smile—his vote-winning smile. “I will see to it that you are very well looked after and you will want for nothing for the rest of your life, I promise you that!” he said.
The pathetic creature smiled her thanks at him and he marvelled at how the lower orders still believed everything they were told. But then when it came to mixing truths or half truths with lies he was a master! This, of course, was why he was the Prime Minister.
“Thank you!” she said.
Jeremy shrugged in a gesture of self-depreciation. “Now, tell me about yourself. What’s your name, my dear?”
“Emma. I’m seventee
n and I was fifteen when I was brought here to mate for the Lands. I bore two children by my given mate for the Doctors to sell. Will I really be allowed to return to the tribe?”
She’s mad, Jeremy decided. Tribe? Children for sale? What on earth could she mean? He felt a little sickened as the realisation of what she meant sank in. So that’s how he was getting her kidneys, she’d been kept a prisoner, breeding children for sale! But he could do nothing if he wanted to live and both kidneys would ensure his survival and, by God, he wanted very much to survive
“Of course you will, my dear,” he said, patting her arm. “Now you rest and don’t worry because I’ll see that you’re taken care of personally.”
Patting her on the arm again, he left her and lay down on his bed. He was feeling ill again but, after today, he would soon regain his health. He really ought to think about investing some money into this place, but not in his own name, of course.
* * * *
Rebecca was jogging past the entrance to Greystone Manor when she noticed a man walking towards the huge double doors. It was a man she’d met once at a reception, Drew Saunders! What the hell was the Prime Minister’s personal bodyguard doing here? Turning her head away so that he wouldn’t recognise her, Rebecca increased her pace and jogged back to the White Lion. She’d have breakfast and then take a look at The Devil’s Footprint from Catherstone Chase.
The chain link fence topped with razor wire stood eight feet high and looked well maintained, Rebecca thought as she approached it and frowned when she saw an electrified inner fence six feet beyond the outer one. This was weird. It was as though they were trying to keep people inside the perimeter instead of out.
The dog hit the fence inches from her face, making her cry out in alarm as she leapt backwards and away from it. The dog was huge – one of the largest Doberman’s she’d ever seen. It was joined by two more and then another and they all stared out at her, growling low and deep in their throats. They’re killers, she thought in horror. They had given no warning of their attack, and not one of them had made a sound except for their threatening growls. Someone had trained them to attack and kill silently, and it was only the chain link fence that had saved her. She was shaking in shock but now Rebecca’s temper was aroused. How dare some idiot allow these dangerous animals to run free and what if a child had poked a small arm through the fence? The bastards would have torn it off! She was about to turn away when a movement to her left caught her eye. At first, she thought it was some kind of monstrous creature making its way unsteadily across the marshes but then she realised what it was that she was seeing. A boy stripped to the waist was hauling on two extra long oars, rowing some kind of raft slowly towards her, and behind him was another one with two young men paddling it. There was a line running between the two craft and she gaped in incredulity as she grasped the fact that the boy who was rowing was actually towing the other raft.