The Tide of Terror

by Stuart G. Yates

  But Mark had asked her to come here too.

  Jenny stopped, taking in some deep breaths as she slowly considered Mark's role in all of this. Mark, whom she had met only a few months previously, had helped her too, when paranormal activity had reached a head on the island. So why would he ask her to come down here, and why now? Did he know something that she didn't?

  A sudden sound broke into her thoughts, a sound nothing like the barking of dogs, but a groan, distinctly human. Pathetic, needy, a groan of despair. Help me, it seemed to be saying. A plaintive cry, pleading with her to stop and look.

  She trained the torch along the walls, but only the blank canvas of peeling plaster shone back at her, on both sides. Moving slowly forward, the moans grew more intense. She tensed, preparing herself for the worst, imagination conjuring up any number of horrific images – mainly to do with Mark, possibly trussed up, left to rot down here by those hideous Burks.

  A few more steps and the groaning grew so loud that it could almost be next to her. And then, beneath herself, she felt it. Unmistakable. Using the flat of her hand, she brushed away the debris and there, sure enough, was the outline to a trap door.

  The groaning stopped.

  Training the beam on the well-rusted handle, Jenny put the torch down and gripped the cold, corroded metal with both hands. Gritting her teeth, she strained in her attempt to move it, twisting and tugging with all her strength, but it refused to budge, the rust acting like a welded joint. Sitting back, she knew she had little choice but to return to the surface, fetch oil, a hammer and chisel, and try her best to work the handle free.

  Standing up, she decided not to retrace her steps, but to continue forward towards the sound of the dogs. This had to be the priority. Whatever was beneath the trap door could wait. She had to help those dogs, free, care for and rehabilitate them as much as was possible. She moved on.

  Gradually the passageway began to slope upwards until, in the distance, the torchlight shone on the end of the tunnel. Without hesitation, she broke into a jog, reached a set of steel steps and climbed them.

  Before long, she came to the hatchway. Swallowing hard, she placed one hand on the handle and turned it, giving a silent prayer that rust had not sealed this one up the way it had the trap door.

  Prayers answered, the handle turned with ease. This must be a well-used entrance, she mused. However, when she put her shoulder against the cold, hard hatchway itself, it remained firmly closed. Gasping with the exertion, lips clamped together, neck muscles straining, she put all of her efforts into pushing the hatch open. Cursing the door, the world, Mark and the Burks in particular for coming to the island and causing so much heartache and anguish, she let out a screech and—

  The door sprang open with a great clang as it hit the ground on the other side.

  Shielding her eyes from the brightness of the daylight, she wriggled out through the open hatch and rolled over onto the grass, chest heaving. The noise from the barking dogs was now very close and, pushing herself upright, she gathered her wits and hauled herself unsteadily to her feet.

  Looking around, she saw she was in a sort of holding pen or large cage, mesh hemming her in on all sides. In the centre of the concrete floor was a central drain down which water used to clean the area could flow. Through an adjoining door, another, larger cage with the main entrance door through which both pens could be accessed.

  But the door was not what took all of attention. There were at least half a dozen dogs in there, big dogs, with big teeth, all snarling and growling and glaring at her with wild, mad eyes. Gripped by freezing, intense fear, she stood rigid as they set up the most ferocious barking she had ever heard, one or two of them launching themselves at the flimsy looking mesh separating them from her. These were not dogs you could barter with, calm down, or try to befriend. These were killer dogs and right now, it looked as if they wanted to kill her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Flopping down on the couch, Jenny allowed the stress of the last few hours to slowly release itself. She'd made her way back down the hatch, running along the dripping wet passageway to the rope ladder, thinking all the time that any moment the pack of wild, baying dogs would come snapping at her heels. But they didn't, and when she made the four-by-four, she drove like a lunatic, bouncing over rutted tracks and weaving lanes until she screeched into the Animal Rescue car park and sat, gripping the wheel, fighting to keep the panic and the terror from overwhelming her.

  She rarely drank.

  This time she did.

  Pouring out a hefty measure of Scotch, she threw it down her throat, coughed and spluttered, but immediately felt a little better.

  In the quiet of her room, it was easy to pretend none of it had happened. The old passages, the dogs, the groaning of someone … and the brother, carried away.

  After her second Scotch, head reeling a little, she opened up her tablet and discovered emails were waiting for her. Two were from the Natural history museum. Someone called Doctor Tomlinson was flying over to view the creature for himself. Was she open to this and could she meet him at the airport? Details to follow. She swallowed hard, remembering with a jolt that the little creature was still in the surgery. She also had dogs to feed and preparations to put in place for Mr McCloud the next day. The days simply flew by and she knew he would need all the details of what had been going on.

  Putting the empty glass down, she took a few breaths and went outside, crossing the courtyard to the surgery and opened it up.

  It was obvious from the moment she opened the door that something awful had happened. For a start, someone had ransacked the place. Shelving, store cupboards, equipment, all upturned and thrown to the ground, contents spilling out across the floor. And, the holding pen where she kept the young creature was empty.

  Suddenly feeling faint, she slumped against the wall, the strength draining from her legs. Sliding down the wall, she crumpled into a small ball on the floor.

  She sat like that for a long time.

  The young policeman stood in the middle of the devastation, making notes in a little black book.

  “So,” he was saying, “you found all this when you got back from being kept against your will. Is that what you're suggesting?”

  “I'm not suggesting it, it's what happened.”

  “So why didn't you contact us as soon as you got away?”

  “Well I couldn't – they'd taken my mobile, my watch…I had no idea how long I'd been away, or what was going to happen.”

  He nodded, chewing the end of his pencil, “So…you managed to get away, said you spotted me at the house, then came back here.”

  “Not straight away. And I did see you there.”

  “Well, I was there, but that had nothing to do with…” he flicked back a page or two, “training dogs for fighting. I didn't see any evidence of that.”

  “You wouldn't – the dogs aren't kept there. They are in another pen, some distance from the house. I can show you.”

  “Yes…yes, that would be good. So…again, why didn't you contact us as soon as you got home? I presume you have a phone here at the centre?”

  Jenny ran a hand through her tangled hair, “Yes, I should have done. You're right. But I was so tired…and then, I thought I'd better check the animal that I was keeping here.”

  “Ah yes, the…creature. That's what you called it.”

  “Yes. Look, you can check my e-mails if you like – I've been in touch with the Natural History museum, trying to identify it.”

  “Yes, you said.” He tapped his note book with the pencil, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well…if I can have a look – at the pens, I mean. The e-mails can wait.”

  The drive back to the holding pens was taken in silence, Jenny's face set straight ahead, the policeman absently gazing out of the window. Arriving there, she sensed straight away how different it all was and now, standing with noses pressed against the wire mesh, they looked into the enclosure and saw that it was empty.

 
; “And you say there were half a dozen of them…in here?”

  Jenny nodded, feeling pathetic. She should have known that the place would be deserted. Mrs Burks was no fool. A seasoned criminal, she must have had all sorts of contingency plans ready. Moving the dogs to another, 'safe place' must have been one of them. But Jenny didn't feel better for knowing this. She felt completely deflated, sure that the policeman would think that she had done nothing but waste police time. There was still the state of the surgery, however. How could that be explained?

  The policeman turned, not looking at her. He kicked at the ground. “So, miss…how would you like to pursue this?”

  “You don't believe a single word of it, do you?”

  “Honestly?” He levelled his gaze at her, and held it there. She nodded, just once. “No. I think you're under stress, miss. Perhaps this is all a bit too much for you. After all, you live in that place, all by yourself, with no one around to look after you. All that responsibility. And, if you don't mind me saying, you are quite young.”

  “And I'm a girl.”

  “Well…exactly.”

  Jenny waited, breathing deeply a few times, but the anger was boiling and she couldn't hold it any longer. “You pompous ass,” she blurted. “How dare you suggest that I made up all of this – for what possible reason would I do such a thing?”

  “I don't know, miss. But,” he nodded towards the enclosure, “this is all a bit…well, inconclusive, isn't it?”

  “And the surgery? Are you suggesting I made up all that too? The break-in, the ransacking of the place – you saw it, for pity's sake.”

  “Yes, and I'll be making my report. But we haven't got very much to go on, and until you make a detailed list of what is missing, well…” He shrugged, gave a patient smile, and made to move on.

  Just then, the figure of Mrs Burks emerged from behind some bushes. She strode towards them with the look of someone on a personal mission. Her face, flush with anger, was drawn and tight. A mask of fury. When she stepped closer, she was breathing hard, barely able to control herself.

  “So,” she snapped, “you've found her. About time!”

  The policeman did a double-take. “Sorry, I don't quite —”

  “This…girl… stole my car.”

  “What?” Jenny placed her fists on her hips, defiant to the last. “How can you say such a thing, when you're here trying to—”

  “That's my four-by-four you've driven up in,” Mrs Burks continued, undeterred, “or are you going to deny that too?”

  The policeman turned his dark eyes on Jenny and took a long, deep breath. “This rather complicates matters,” he said, as he reached for his notebook once more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “This isn't too good, Jenny,” said Mr Haslam, an advocate and the only person Jenny knew who might be able to help in the awful situation in which she now found herself. Taken to the police station she gave a brief statement and was charged with stealing the Burks' vehicle, breaking into their property, and stealing one of their dogs.

  “It's all nonsense,” said Jenny, sounding desperate. “Scruffy is my dog – I bought her off them, the Burks.”

  “But there's no receipt, Jen. And as for this business about breaking in… Why on earth did you do that?”

  “I didn't – they took me there, kept me locked-up.”

  “So, how did you get out Jen?”

  What was she supposed to do, tell him that a giant creature appeared out of the ether and spirited the younger brother away? And that the same creature then picked up the eldest one and carried him off? She would sound as if she had lost her mind. Given how she was feeling, that probably wasn't all that far from the truth.

  So, she maintained her previous lie, “They left the door open.”

  Haslam gave her one of those looks. “You really expect me to believe that, Jen? And, perhaps more importantly, do you think the police will believe it?” He shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. “No, this is looking very bad, Jenny. If Mrs Burks decides to press charge – and I can't see her not doing so – this could mean a custodial sentence.”

  His words were like fists, beating her down into submission. This couldn't be happening, not like this. She was innocent, for God's sake – they were the ones, the Burks! They'd done all this, taken her away, threatened her, slashed her car, made the threats. They were the ones who were training the dogs, not she. She had nothing to do with any of it. “But that can't be right…I'd lose my job, everything.”

  “Yes, that is right, Jenny. So, if I were you, I'd start telling the truth. It's always the best policy.” He sat back, arms folded across his chest. “I'm sorry, Jen. I really am.”

  She had a sudden thought, “That other policeman, the detective who questioned me, about Mr Fletcher, he must have some evidence that will back me up – he let me go, after all.”

  “Mr Fletcher? Jen, that's all been sorted – Mr Fletcher checked himself out of hospital after leaving a statement for the police. That has no bearing on any of this.”

  “He checked himself out? Well, why didn't anybody say anything to me?” She stood up, suddenly feeling trapped, “I've got to go and see him, find out what happened. Mr Haslam, you've got to get me out of here.”

  “Jen, you're getting yourself into a real state about all of this. The police don't have to tell you anything. What Mr Fletcher does, or has done, is his own affair. Look,” he pushed a pad of A4 lined paper towards her. “Just write the statement, make it as detailed as you can, and as truthful as you can, then we'll see what the police will do with you.”

  “Are you saying you can't help me get out of here – bail or something.”

  Haslam shrugged, “You co-operate and anything is possible. Now, sit down and write the statement.”

  Haslam put the paper down and considered it for a moment, looking unconvinced. “Are you sure you want to stick with this story? Essentially, it's your word against hers. And her sons, of course…if they ever turn up.”

  “Well, I can't help that, can I?”

  “No. I don't suppose you can.”

  “And I'm not sure if those brothers will ever turn up, especially the one who was—”

  Haslam held up his hand, a dark look coming over him. “Jen, please. No more about that.” He gathered the papers together and stood up. “I'll let the duty-sergeant have this, then it's just a case of waiting to see what they say. Sorry I can't be more positive.”

  “Thanks for coming, Mr Haslam.”

  “If it's any compensation, Jen, I think all of this has been just one huge misunderstanding. Perhaps, when it's all over, you and Mrs Burks can become friends. Build some bridges, you know the sort of thing.”

  Jenny looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “What? Are you nuts? Mr Haslam, the woman is a monster!”

  He blew out a sigh, picking up his briefcase and clutching it to him. “That sort of attitude Jen is what got you into this mess in the first place. You can't go around blaming and accusing people for things they haven't done. You're well-liked, but if you're not careful you're going to start making enemies, and then life here will not be very pleasant at all.”

  And with that he went out, leaving Jenny alone to think about how she could explain everything to Mr McCloud when the vet arrived from Guernsey.

  At the desk, the duty sergeant handed over a bunch of keys and few pence in change. Jenny looked at these meagre bits and pieces and felt the weight of the situation press down on her more heavily than ever before. Grimly, she signed the release form and nodded her thanks. She turned to find the detective standing there, looking at her keenly. “A word of advice,” he said, his voice firm and serious, “keep away from the Burks. Stay in your flat, keep your head down and wait for the court appearance next Tuesday. By then, all things being well, this whole business will be cleared up and we can all get back to living normal lives.”

  “Normal? Is that what you call it?”

  “Look,” he took her by the elbow
and led her outside into the cold, sharp air. It was early, she didn't know what time, but none of the shops were yet open and it suddenly struck her that she didn't even know what day it was. The detective continued, unaware of her unease. “You need to understand something.” He looked around, checking that nobody was within ear-shot. “We've been investigating the Burks since the moment they arrived on the island.” He ignored Jenny's expression of disbelief and plunged on, “I'm only telling you this because you're in serious danger of blowing the whole operation. Why do you think I let you go over that affair with Fletcher? It was them, the Burks who did that. We know almost everything about them and then you come along and almost blow the whole operation out of the water.”

  “But…you mean, all this time, you knew I was telling the truth?” He nodded, looking uncomfortable, “And yet you let me sweat it out in that damned cell?”

  “I had no choice…Jenny, this is an undercover operation, not even the local Bobbies know about it. And as for Haslam…” He shook his head, blowing out his cheeks, “We think he's in on it too.”

  “What? Mr – no, no that can't be right. Why would a man like Mr Haslam be involved in anything the Burks are doing?”

  “We don't know everything yet, but it's pretty clear that they are training dogs and then taking them over to Eastern Europe where they are sold, for a considerable sum. Haslam has contacts in the States, and we believe that might be their next phase. But it's not just dogs, Jenny. There's a lot more besides. The dogs are only the tip of the iceberg.”

  “So what are the other things? Do you know?”

  He shook his head, “Not yet. But we will…if you keep your flammin' nose out of it!”