The Grayson Trilogy

by Georgia Rose

  Once the horses’ breathing had slowed we set off again, still stumbling through the undergrowth and dodging around trees but at least it was flat, and a few minutes later we were relieved to come across one of the wider paths. We stopped again as I tried to get my bearings. It had been a while since I’d heard any engine noise, and our enemies seemed to have passed further on along the lane. There was no more gunfire – we could hear nothing but the silence around us. Perhaps it was all over – and if it was, who had won? Until we knew that, it wouldn’t be safe for us to reveal ourselves, and for the time being we would press ahead with my plan.

  We turned left along the path we were on, walking two abreast. The going was not so hard, but we were more vulnerable than before when we were struggling through the undergrowth, without so much tree cover it was lighter, which made it easier to see – or be seen, I thought anxiously. It was eerily quiet now. I kept listening for movement but there was none. Even the nocturnal animals were absent, no doubt disturbed by the activity and noise.

  I realised we were about to hit the lane, which we needed to cross to get on to a similar path. All was still and noiseless as Regan stepped out on to the road. We were half way across when an explosion of light to our left robbed us of our night vision, accompanied by the roar of an engine bursting into life a hundred metres or so from us as a vehicle swerved out on to the road, accelerating fast. I heard Sophia squeal behind me as I yelled for everyone to follow, and we set off at full pelt straight across the road and back on to a familiar riding track. I shouted to Grace to take the lead as I pulled back a little, allowing all three of them to pass me then pulling Regan in behind.

  I looked back, and could see for the first time the silhouette of the vehicle as it travelled along the road. It was some sort of off-road-type Jeep, and I was relieved to see it carry on past the end of our path, sticking to the road. The problem was that the trees here were more spread out. I could see the Jeep travelling along the road, and as long as I could see them, they could see us. Our path had started to veer away from the road, though, and I knew it would soon take us out of their sight. I hoped they were not too familiar with the layout of the estate, and I hoped they hadn’t guessed where we were going as we needed to make the most of the fact that this route to the farm was shorter than going by road. Unless we could get ahead of them now, there would be no slipping off the estate secretly after all.

  Fumbling to get my phone out of my pocket, I called Porter, willing him to answer as we rode towards the farm.

  “Grayson?”

  “Porter, get the gate open. We’re coming through and we’ve got company.”

  “Roger.” I had no idea what he meant by that, but he’d gone. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and urged everyone on as fast as possible. Grace was having to hold Monty back from full flight to allow everyone else a chance of staying close to him, and the children were keeping up manfully. I could feel the ache in my legs so I knew they must be getting tired, and I had no idea if they were going to make the distance. I could see the outline of the farm buildings ahead. Our path met the road where both entered the farmyard, and although I could hear the Jeep’s engine I could see no sign of it. I felt a small surge of hope that we might yet make it as we shot out of the end of the path and Grace led the charge towards the gate.

  Porter was there, the gate was opening and Monty had already disappeared through the widening gap as the Jeep burst into the farmyard behind us. Zodiac and Benjy passed through as shots rang out. Porter grunted, his legs buckling under him as he fell.

  I was also through, off the estate, but we were far from being safe. As I looked back all I could see was Porter lying motionless, and my heart sank further with this latest loss. I hoped the others hadn’t seen.

  Distracted I hadn’t even noticed we’d crossed the road and were travelling along the edge of a field. I knew there were a few of these to go through. I drew alongside Reuben and Sophia, leaning down to look at them, shouting across, “Are you okay to carry on?” Both glanced over, grim-faced but firmly nodding.

  I could hear the Jeep behind us. I didn’t bother looking back. What was the point? It was coming and there was nothing I could do about it. We were already doing all we could, and that was to keep running.

  We were passing the forest of conifers, which looked eerie in the silvery moonlight, the ranks of firs creepy in a way the woods on the estate were not.

  I knew the entrance to the beach was only round the corner now. The lights behind me wavered up and down, shadows appearing and disappearing with each movement as the Jeep bounced along the rutted track. I doubted the occupants had any idea where we were going but were just doggedly following their prey, expecting we would run out of energy before we got much further.

  We fled down the slope and on to the beach. My hopes of finding safety here had been dashed and I had no plan B, no idea how to get us out of this. I’d imagined arriving at this point at a more leisurely pace, without this feeling of exhaustion spreading through my legs, my arms, my body. I’d imagined getting the family to safety, hiding out in the cave until the danger was over. But now, as I looked out to sea at the shimmering silver track of the moon as it crossed the water towards us, I realised I’d failed. All I’d done was lead us into a trap, and everyone’s effort – everyone’s sacrifice, as my thoughts returned to Carlton and Porter – had been for nothing.

  The beach lit up as the headlights reached the top of the slope behind us. We were not far from the cliffs at the far end, and the lights dipped down as the Jeep travelled down the slope, then up again as it levelled out on the sand. A couple of shots were fired, and I couldn’t help thinking we were too far away for them to be accurate. But then Regan jolted under me, and I felt a stinging pain across my thigh. Swerving to one side, I zig-zagged Regan back and forth, snaking behind the children, hoping to make the target harder to hit. Then with some relief I realised we’d made it to the cliffs.

  Monty baulked at the water, stopping short as it swirled menacing and black at his feet. Grace managed to stay on, her hands knotted in his mane, still clamped to the neck-strap. One look at her told me she’d had it. She’d had the hardest ride of any of us, and now her shoulders were hunched, her energy spent. Zodiac and Benjy plunged in, oblivious to the danger that Monty perceived. As I passed him I wrapped my legs tighter around Regan and leaned over to grab a handful of rein and head collar, hoping any further resistance from Monty wouldn’t rip me from Regan’s back. As our momentum carried us into the water I held tight to Monty’s head collar, feeling the strain as the muscles through my arm and across my back screamed with the effort, then a sudden release as Monty shifted and followed us in, the fear of being left behind greater than the scary cold blackness around his legs. Pulling him along, we quickly got out to the point of the rocks, turned and rushed back towards the smaller beach to join the children; all of us, horses and humans, breathing heavily, sweating and shaking with exertion.

  Chapter 7

  I slid from Regan’s back. It felt a long way down into sand that gave way, throwing me off balance. I forced strength back into my trembling legs as I struggled to save myself from falling. Knowing we had to keep moving as far and as fast as we could in the trap I’d led us into, I looked over at the children and spoke softly.

  “Okay, guys, time to get off.” Both of them reacted immediately, sliding off, finding it easier than I had. Young bodies, I thought as I glanced anxiously at their mother. No movement.

  Handing Regan’s reins to Sophia, I came up to Monty and Grace. Running my hand first along his steaming neck, I then placed one hand on her knee, squeezing and gently shaking it, my other hand on hers that still tightly gripped mane and neck-strap as I looked up at her.

  “Grace? Grace...look at me. We need to get under cover, you must get off now.”

  Her head moved slightly as her eyes met mine. I could see her fear.

  “The children, Grace, we need to keep them safe,” I urged, kno
wing this was what she would care about; this was what would get her moving. I used both my hands now to try to loosen hers, and as I did so she came to her senses. Her hands relaxed from their frozen position, and as she let go I braced myself to help steady her as she stumbled on landing. She breathed out in relief as she righted herself, indicating with a nod to me that she was all right.

  Taking Regan’s reins again, I led us up the beach. On getting to the entrance of the cave I knew how dark it would be in there so I stopped, took the bag off my back and pulled out the four lead ropes, throwing one to each of the others.

  “Take the bridles off,” I said, and soon we were leading each of the horses into the cave. There wasn’t much light, but enough to allow me to find the tethering post Trent and I had installed the previous year. I tied up the horses, who were sweating, breathing heavily and exhausted, and, patting each one, I thanked them silently for their efforts. Finally I passed my hand over Regan’s flank. It was wet and sticky, and my hand was dark with blood as I held it in the moonlight. I took a minute to examine the wound on my leg. The adrenaline pumping through me was overriding any pain, and although there was a blood-soaked patch on my ripped jodhpurs only a small amount of blood was oozing from what appeared to be a flesh wound.

  Turning to the others, who had collapsed in a heap by the cave opening, I went back outside, gathered up the bridles and dumped them in a pile inside the cave. As I did so I noticed our clear trail up the beach.

  We had no idea who was in the Jeep or how many of them they were, but they had been determined in following us to this point, and I didn’t see any reason why they would stop now. I could already imagine them wading into the water as they followed the rocks, and us, out to sea. All we could do was put off the inevitable for as long as possible. From the sea the entrance to the cave was hidden. With a bit of luck they might think we had ridden on to the next bay. Bending down, I picked up a pile of debris that had been washed up, mostly seaweed but it also included a piece of tattered sack-like material attached to a short length of frayed rope. Going down to where the waves had stopped washing away our tracks, I retraced my steps backwards up the beach, rubbing my bundle of flotsam over the sand, obliterating our tracks as best as I could.

  All I could think about was that I needed to buy us as much time as I could before help arrived. I couldn’t think about the fact that help might not arrive. I couldn’t think about that at all. Finishing my task, I backed into the cave, then threw the debris back out on to the beach.

  I crouched in front of the others where they were huddled together and I had to stir them into action.

  “Come on, we have to keep moving. If they follow us...” And of course they will, I thought. “We have to make it as hard for them as we can.”

  Though there was exhaustion in the faces staring back at me, I dragged everyone to their feet. Taking a torch out of my bag, I picked our way to the back of the cave, trying to avoid the small rocks that poked up out of the sand, waiting to stub our toes and trip us up. I flicked on the light as soon as we walked into the shadows. From my brief explorations the previous summer I knew the cave went back a long way, and I hoped if our hunters weren’t prepared, if they hadn’t brought torches and if we hid as far back as possible they might not be able to find us. It was a lot of ifs.

  I looked at the horses regretfully as we passed, feeling terrible at leaving them in this condition. I’d not been able to offer them any water, they had no hay to occupy them, and having been left sweating from the strenuous exercise on this muggy summer’s night, they’d now been left in a cool, damp cave and were going to get chilled. Same would apply to us, I thought. I could already feel the sweat cooling on my skin. At least Carlton knew where we were going, I reassured myself. He would come as soon as he could...as soon as he could, I repeated slowly. What if he couldn’t? What if he was... I forced myself to confront this fear. What if he was dead? Then no one would know where we were. No, I corrected myself, Porter knew we’d gone out of the gate. That would be enough to give others a good idea as to where we were heading. Porter – as the vision of his still body came back to me I realised with increasing despair that no one had any idea where we were. Desperate to let someone know I pulled my phone out of my pocket. No signal, unsurprisingly. It was too late – I had well and truly messed up.

  At the back of the cave we no longer had sand beneath our feet, but rock: uneven slabs interspersed with jagged edges, making our progress slow. We held each other’s hands in a chain formation to help steady and guide one another. Sophia’s hand felt small and cold in mine as I held it tightly. I thought we’d probably reached about as far back as I’d been before. Last time I’d turned back from the claustrophobic dark and damp, wanting to return to the sun, but now the darkness was all-consuming whichever way we turned.

  A voice called out in the dark behind us, echoing in the cavernous space. I jumped, flicked off the torch and stopped still. “Hush!” I whispered to the others as I listened for more, trying to quieten my breathing which to my ears sounded loud enough to be echoing back at the intruder. A man’s voice came again. I didn’t understand what was being said. A foreign language, and therefore clearly not the help I was hoping for. A second voice answered, deeper and gruffer than the first. Then there was silence. They were either leaving or creeping up on us. I saw no torchlight from their direction, which was a good sign. Perhaps they were ill-equipped for following us. I pulled gently on Sophia’s hand and we stumbled on. I risked turning on the torch, thinking we were far enough back now for it not to be seen. The sound of us shuffling around in the dark as we tried to find our footing without light might be more of a draw.

  The cave had narrowed considerably, the roof now lower. Our escape route seemed to be petering out, but I stuck to my original resolution to make it as difficult as possible for our potential captors. As I pushed on I wondered how long it would take for them to find us; how much time it would take for them to drag us back out on to the beach. I allowed myself a brief moment to imagine their dismay if, on doing so, they found Trent and the others waiting for them. A good ending, I thought, but right now about as likely as a fairy-tale.

  Too busy escaping, too busy trying to hang on to Regan, I’d pushed Trent from my mind when Carlton had snapped me out of the horror at hearing the shots, Trent’s grunt, the silence of the deadened phone. Carlton’s “He’ll be fine” had been so definite, but how could he be? Wanting to get me moving, he’d said what I’d needed to hear, verbally kicking me back into action. I knew Trent could be dead, my worst fear realised, a sob caught in my throat, though I would not allow the tears to come. It’d be no good if I fell apart now, I told myself fiercely, and I tried to convince myself maybe he hadn’t been hit, maybe he’d dived for cover, maybe we’d been cut off. It was a lot of maybes.

  Trying to clear my mind of these muddled thoughts, I told myself to concentrate on our current predicament. No good dreaming about being rescued, I had to focus on the here and now. Coming out of my reverie, I noticed we’d not yet reached a dead end. I cast the torch around. Rock encased us, and while we could only walk in single file, the cave had not diminished in size. It was damp and there was still a salty tang in the air, though it was not as clean and fresh as it had been in the main cave.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a sob from behind me. I turned quickly to see Sophia bravely trying to wipe away her tears on the collar of her jacket. I caught Grace’s look of concern as she reached for Sophia, hugging her tightly. Reuben quietly moved closer to me, subdued with exhaustion. I’d pushed them all too far. We needed a break.

  I sank gratefully to the ground, my legs collapsing under me, and the others did the same. I whispered to Grace to pass me her bag, then took out a bottle of water, only then acknowledging how thirsty I was. I handed it around and everyone gulped greedily. There wasn’t much left when we’d all had our fill. I managed to stop myself finishing it and put it back in the bag, then pulled out bars of chocolate.
It was a small thing, but good to see everyone’s eyes light up. Sophia’s tears had stopped and she was being cuddled by her mother, so I checked on Reuben.

  “Are you okay?” He nodded, and I tried again. “Are you cold?”

  “No,” he mumbled as he shivered, and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms briskly, hoping to impart at least a little warmth.

  Then, knowing I was going to have to move things along, I turned to Grace. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not really,” she replied. “I thought a couple of times I could hear voices, but then heard nothing else so decided they were only in my imagination.” I’d heard and thought the same. It could be our anxious minds playing games on us, or the enemy could be keeping as quiet as we were and creeping closer every moment.

  This thought spurred me on as I was also aware of the cold seeping into me, and at least when moving we were keeping warm...ish.

  We clambered to our feet and carried on walking. The break had done us good. I felt better able to concentrate on the challenge facing us now, rather than only being able to deal with the task of putting one foot in front of the other. It only now dawned on me that we were actually in a passage and not just disappearing into the far reaches of the cave. When Trent and I had come to the beach he’d told me of the tales that surrounded this part of the coast: smugglers’ caves and tunnels back up to the village for the goods to be taken along. Although the cave part had been believable – we were in the cave after all – the tunnel bit had seemed unlikely, and I’d assumed it was an exaggerated piece of local folklore. It appeared I was wrong. Unless I was mistaken, it felt as though the passage we were in was on an incline.