Once he was dressed he assembled men capable of participating in a search before him while the rest were told to return to their homes. There were not many that could handle a search in this weather and an even greater number could barely move. It was a bad time to be having trouble in the town. So many of the men were close to returning, even some in their early thirties were advancing in the process much faster than he had ever seen before.
Peake wondered if the power of his master had grown so great that its effect was being seen in the speed at which he was able to bring his children home. A small bubble of excitement rose within him. Surely if this was the case then his time was at hand. So long as he didn’t fuck this up of course.
Whatever the answer to the problem it wasn’t going to be those about to return that could help with it. They unable to contend with snow and ice, they were strong but they were slow and awkward in movement.
They looked at him with their bulging eyes wide, blinking. Peake could feel their fear and vulnerability. This was the most dangerous stage of the return as they were virtually helpless.
Fortunately his contingent of Wardens was fit and able. He looked out at the faces of those scattered amongst the assembly, those who had not received the blessing of Dagon at birth. Outwardly they looked like the other humans, like Clarke, like himself he supposed. They could pass through towns and cities without attention, collect supplies and pay off certain individuals.
While Macgregor and Duggan were his lieutenants, the most experienced, the others could handle themselves. They still had the blood of Father Dagon running through them after all. These were the Wardens of the Brood.
‘Brothers.’ He called to them all. ‘As you know a Government Man has been here for two days. We had hoped to give him the information he required and send him on his way, but this has been undone.’
A gargled murmur ran through the crowd. ‘I will need some of you to assist Macgregor in locating the Government man.’ Peake jabbed his finger into the crowd, indicating four of the Wardens. ‘You will come with me to find Billy Duggan. We need him.’ As one the heads nodded. ‘Andrew, open the cache and give each man a firearm.’
The man called Andrew broke from the crowd and left the room. Peak instructed Macgregor to get his guns as the policeman had his own cache at the Police House. He was to go after Joe with as many men as he felt he needed to ensure the job was done.
‘Finish it there and then.’ He advised Macgregor. ‘Don’t fool around with him either.’ He added, giving the big man a sharp look.
‘I’ll get it done.’ Macgregor replied and turned to leave, pointing to some of the gathering to accompany him.
‘Not them.’ Peake called out. He indicated the Wardens that Macgregor chosen. The big man said nothing and instead nodded towards a number of the men who were less advanced towards returning. They shuffled out behind him.
‘Fucking coward.’ Macgregor mumbled. He knew that Peake was saving the most able men to protect his own sorry skin instead of giving him the resources to tackle of the problem at hand. He led his band out of the lodge and into the snow with dark thoughts of what he would do to the Government man once he had him in his hands.
Chapter Fifteen
They had seen the first beam of torchlight sweep through the snowfall together. Without hesitation Joe lifted Melanie into his arms, she gave a mild gasp, he then walked with her into the snow drift to their right. The drift gave in to him easily as he pushed through it until he reached the wall. He carefully set Melanie down and held a finger to his lips.
‘Stay quiet.’ He said as low as he could over the storm. He then moved back to the road and began to push to snow back into the gap he had made. Joe knew that it was a poor attempt at camouflage, one that would fool no one on a clear day, but with the dark of the night and the blinding dance of flakes it would be difficult for the townsfolk to notice the disturbed snow.
If it didn’t work all he could do was go over the wall and head for the forest. He knew that he would have to leave Melanie behind if that was the case.
For at least a minute all he could hear was the wind but then the deep tones of male voices were carried upon it. They were close. Only a small wall of snow hid them from the roadside and Joe held Melanie tightly as the voices grew a little more in volume.
A shaft of light reflected in the snowfall above them but the beam didn’t appear to be directed at their location.
The voices quickly began to fade. They had passed by.
Gingerly Joe released Melanie and she let her arms slip from him. He crept through the gap he had made and pushed away his makeshift wall. He looked to his left, he could see beams of light probing ahead but couldn’t make out the men who carried them.
It had worked. He felt Melanie move up behind him and he reached for her hand. He stepped back onto the road and pulled Melanie to him.
‘Ok, we have to move now. With any luck that’s the only group looking for us out here. We get into the town and head to the dock.’
‘The dock?’ Melanie said surprised. ‘Why the dock?’
‘There’s a boat there, a small motor boat.’ Joe said. ‘We can use it to get around the coast.’
Melanie looked at him with incredulity. ‘A motor boat in this fucking storm?’ She said and then stopped abruptly, realising that she had raised her voice.
Joe gripped her shoulders. ‘I have no better idea Mel, not a one. Yeah, it’s going to be rough I know, but if we can just get out of the bay and make some distance around the coast we can make it. I’m fucking positive.’ He gave her a little shake as he said the last, just to show his conviction.
Melanie stared at him, eyes wide but looking tired. ‘That’s the worst fucking plan I have ever heard.’ She said, ‘But as I don’t have another I guess it’s all we have.’
Joe smiled gravely. ‘Let’s go.’ He said.
The men of Roscregan gathered in the bar of the Silent Piper and Kevin looked at the assembly with a mixture of sadness and pride. There was not one of the remaining villagers of the parish who had not answered his call.
‘This needs to be quick and it needs to be clear.’ Kevin said in a confident and strong voice. ‘This is it. The end of it. I’m sick of watching this place decay under my feet. I’m sick of letting good people wander off from here and probably never be heard of again.’ Some heads bowed, shoulders swayed a little. ‘You all know that there is an evil out there and I’m as afraid of it as you are. Where are our kids? We’ve sent them all packing, safe, away from here. By doing that we have condemned this village to an early end, our legacy to them will be a few acres of land that no one will buy and homes that no one will live in. Unless we do something and do it now.’
Kevin turned and placed his hand upon a large wooden crate that rested upon two tables that had been drawn together.
‘There should be enough in here to go around, at least one to every man. You all know how to use them, we have practiced enough for this moment.’ He patted the lid. ‘I don’t know what the consequences will be if we succeed. A lot of questions are going to be asked you can be certain of that, but I do have a good idea of what will happen if we lose. Roscregan will be one more village that disappears off the map.’ He turned his back to the crowd and lifted the lid of the crate off revealing a collection of assault rifles.
There was no indication of surprise from the men as they were all well aware of existence of the guns. Sending children to the best schools and university’s cost money, second homes in the south cost money.
Kevin looked down at the array of hardware before him, M16’s mostly, some AK47’s. Each one a token of appreciation, or a way of meeting a payment, from gun smugglers that operated on the remote coastline. Kevin had often wondered how much the silence and complicity of this village had contributed to the spread and implementation of evil generally.
The IRA once had a well-established supply line that ran through Roscregan and into the south during the eighties and
while Kevin had no truck with their politics, having served a term in Ireland his father had not shared his view.
Yet even Kevin had to admit that living near to the port of Winter Falls made the idea of having a cache of firearms available more attractive than not.
There were fifteen rifles and a half dozen Beretta pistols. Each weapon had enough rounds for four reloads. On occasional weekends he had run through general tactics, what to do in the event that the village came under attack. He had only halted the practice runs when rounds had begun to become limited. He had refused to deal with anyone hoping to run gun through the village once his father had died and this made acquiring more ammunition too risky.
He turned back to face his fellow villagers.
‘If you have no stomach for this I don’t blame you, and I’m sure that not one of us here will lay blame on any man who chooses to walk away. If this is what you would prefer to do then do so now and have nae bad conscience about it.’ Kevin waited. No one moved.
‘I’m wi’ ya Kev.’ One of the men called from the group and at this a few more, ‘Here mate’ and ‘Ayes’ were issued. Kevin nodded.
One of the Tunny brothers, Joss, stepped forward. The Tunny lads had refused to leave their father even though he had offered a good deal of money to them, to set up a life away from Roscregan. Instead they had stayed to continue working on the family farm.
Their mother Patricia was also one of the few females left in the village. A tougher, more loyal family would be hard to find in the whole of the region.
‘Are we away for the London boy Kev? And the foreign lads?’ Joss Tunny asked.
Kevin nodded. ‘Aye, although I dunna hold out much hope for the Norwegians, but the lad has only been gone a couple of days.’
‘It doesnae really matter Joss.’ Brian Tunny called out to his brother. ‘I’m happy just tae be going over there to shake those weird bastards outta that place.’
A few of the men laughed a little at this and even Kevin managed to smile.
‘Ok lads.’ Kev lifted an M16 from the crate. ‘It looks like we are to be away. Let’s get geared up.’
Woolly Brown, a diminutive dairy farmer whose holding lay the furthest north from the village stepped out from the assembled men and Kevin presented him with the rifle.
‘McDowdal will sort out your ammo mate.’ Kevin said and Woolly nodded. The rest of the men formed a line to take their weapons.
Chapter Sixteen
Joe was surprised at how quickly the town came into view. The buildings hampered the flurry of snow enough to increase visibility and he could see that they were back on the outskirts of it. He clearly had not driven as far as he had. Now he wondered if there would be enough time for them to get away if Macgregor figured out that they had doubled back sooner than anticipated.
‘How are you holding up?’ He asked Melanie as they passed by the cottages that had marked his initial entry to the town.
‘I’m fine.’ Melanie replied and that did appear to be the case. She only limped a little and was not leaning on to Joe for support. He marvelled at her resilience and strength.
‘Is the quickest way to the dock this road?’ He asked.
‘No.’ Melanie replied. ‘If we cut across the town just down from here we can save some time.’
‘Right, let’s do that then.’ Joe said and allowed himself a small moment of hope. They had made it back to the town and it was highly unlikely that anyone had thought they might return. Duggan was out cold and even if they had found him, as Melanie had said, he was in no fit state to fight. Macgregor was with the gang looking for them and he felt sure he could take Peake down if it came to it.
Obviously there was a town full of others to contend with but all they had to was avoid them and they had a chance. Unfortunately Melanie was also right about the plan, the boat was a shit idea but he told himself that it did have some merit. He hadn’t seen another boat in the docks that would have a chance out on that sea, so they couldn’t be followed. He tried not to think of it being smashed to pieces against the cliffs. That was another bump in the road of his plan.
The snow’s depth inside the town was nowhere near as deep as it was outside and the going was much easier. Melanie appeared to be completely unhindered by her wound and easily kept pace beside him, to the point that Joe began to move a little faster.
He was pleased that he could do so as the cold was starting to bite into his skin. His jeans were soaked through and his feet felt like ice. What protection the jacket had offered was now lost as it had also succumbed to the wet, although not yet as badly as his jeans.
As they had crossed the town the wind had also begun to ease although the snowfall hadn’t, this was another good sign for his plan he thought. Less wind meant a sea that might not try to smash them to a pulp added to this the snow would further hide them.
Emerging from an alley that Melanie had led them through Joe realised that he recognised the road they were now on, despite the knee deep snow. About four hundred yards to the right and across from them was the Satanic Lidl, this was the road adjacent to the dock. They had made it.
Visibility was still poor due to the curtain of drifting flakes but not as severe as before, when the wind had turned them into a twisting living curtain. He couldn’t see anyone. This was by no means proof that no one was watching but his plan was almost at its point of completion so Joe decided to go for it.
He grabbed Melanie’s hand and darted across the road with her in tow. They moved quickly past unlit shops and homes and past the recesses where the fishing equipment was stacked under snowy hills. Finally they came to where the road turned into the jetty entrance, where he had seen the boat.
‘Brilliant.’ he whispered to himself. The sea was moving with strong swells but didn’t appear to be too violent. He couldn’t see the boat, but that was Ok, it was at the far end and they had to cross the length of the Jetty to get to it. To his left, at the top of the road, was the lodge building. He stared at it and his mouth went dry, his mind dug at him with insinuations that faces were pressed against its boarded upper windows, watching him through the gaps and knot holes with cold black eyes. He shuddered and dismissed his paranoia.
‘Let’s go.’ He said. Still gripping her hand he led Melanie along the jetty until they reached the boat. He had harboured a cold fear that when he got there the little vessel would be gone, but as they approached the end of the jetty he could see it rising and falling with the swell.
Joe looked back. Still no one was in sight. All they had to do was get in the boat, start her up and they were away, out of this nightmare. A thought struck him and he felt he should ask even though he was not wholly convinced that it needed to be considered.
‘We can get out right? The thing with the symbol, you said we would need it.’ Joe stuttered over the words, not just because he was cold but because the idea seemed so ridiculous.
‘It’s ok, we can get out. I have what we need.’ Melanie replied.
Joe nodded. ‘Ok, good.’ He looked down at the boat and followed the rope that secured it to the jetty. He grabbed it and pulled the boat against the rotting tyres.
‘Get in Mel.’ He said, and she stepped into the little boat.
They both suddenly stopped what they were doing and listened, Mel had one foot on the jetty and one on the floor of the boat. A sound, distinct despite being distant had carried on the wind and bounced around the town.
‘Was that a gunshot?’ Joe asked, his face wrinkled up as blast of wind leapt up off the sea and the cold of it burned his skin. Before Melanie could answer a further report came and then like firecrackers on November the fifth the air was punctuated with reports. Somewhere a lot of guns were being fired.
‘Jesus. What now?’ Joe said.
‘I don’t know and I don’t care Joe.’ Melanie said sharply. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’ At that she carefully finished her climb into the boat. Joe unravelled the last of the rope and made a little hop to g
et on board. His feet splashed into about three inches of water that had collected inside the bottom but he paid it no attention. It was floating, that was enough.
He turned to the outboard motor. He had never used one before but had seen them on the TV and in movies enough to judge that they all started by pulling on cord. He looked for it but couldn’t see one.
‘What’s the matter?’ Melanie asked.
‘I don’t know how these work.’ Joe said, angry at himself.
‘Are you fucking kidding?’
‘No!’ Joe whipped his head around to face her. ‘I’m not fucking kidding. Do you know how they work?’ He said, surprised at his own vicious tone.
‘No.’ Melanie said, shaking her head. More gunshots dotted the air, they still sounded far away. Joe looked over the motor, for buttons, levers or switches that might make the thing come to life but nothing he did caused the motor engage.
He let out a frustrated grunt and slammed his hand onto the top of it.
‘Fuck!’ He ran his hands through his sodden hair.
‘Ok...ok,’ He said. He stood straight and looked around. Melanie watched him. Silent. Joe leapt back on to the jetty, the rope in his hand, and secured the boat once again.
‘Joe?’ Melanie called to him.
‘It’s Ok.’ He shouted back. ‘Plan B.’ He ran back towards the start of the jetty and a few moments later emerged from the snowfall with two oars held before him.
‘We’ll just have to do it old school.’ He climbed back in to the boat and released the rope once again.
The boat was immediately pulled back a few feet by the current. Joe fixed the oars into their hooks and began to row them into the dark. Seeing the edge of the town get more distant by just a few feet put a little fire into his heart and he hauled at the oars with vigour.
‘Fuck you all you creepy bastards.’ He said quietly. The darkness swallowed them.
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