The Flood

by Rachel Bennett

  Daniela’s head was spinning. She was dizzy and sick, and couldn’t stand upright. Fire ran up from her jaw. Her mouth tasted coppery. She pushed away from the car and tried to grab Henry.

  Henry swung the club two-handed at Daniela, who stumbled out of the way.

  ‘Liars,’ Henry yelled. ‘Thieves.’ The club sliced the air like punctuation. ‘You won’t be happy till you’ve taken everything.’

  Daniela danced backwards. She was aware of Leo snatching up his shattered phone, and Stephanie still unmoving on the ground. Lights were snapping on in houses up and down the street, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off Henry. The man looked insane. His hands were tight around the club’s handle. Right then his attention was focused on Daniela but at any second, he might go for Leo or Stephanie again.

  Get him away from them.

  ‘You deserve to lose everything,’ Daniela said. ‘Look what you’ve done to us.’

  Henry advanced on Daniela, no longer swinging the club wildly but instead holding it at shoulder height. Daniela retreated. Watch his hands, not his face.

  ‘So, yeah, I broke the door of your shop,’ Daniela said. ‘If you’d given me another ten minutes, I would’ve had the place on fire.’

  She heard Leo gasp.

  Henry’s eyes bulged. ‘You—’

  Daniela spun and ran off. Behind her came the smack of feet on tarmac as Henry gave chase.

  Instinct steered Daniela onto the lane to her own house. But within fifty yards she jinked left onto a narrow path. She glanced back to ensure Henry was following.

  Twelve minutes. That’s how long it takes the police to get here from Hackett. Someone would’ve called the police. And an ambulance. Daniela’s stomach contracted as she thought of Stephanie. Need to keep Henry away for twelve minutes.

  The path led into the woods that crowded the eastern edge of Stonecrop. Within a few yards, Daniela was beneath the protective spread of branches. Shadows enfolded her. Daniela had lost her night vision and ran blind, afterimages careening across her vision.

  Henry was at a disadvantage. He hadn’t grown up in Stonecrop and therefore didn’t know the woods. Daniela heard his shoes pounding the hard-packed mud of the path.

  Years of heavy rains had worn away the earth, and the ground was a constant trip-hazard of exposed roots and fallen branches poking up from the mud. Daniela had a good sense of direction and knew the woods well, but in the dark, with someone chasing her, it was easy to panic. She knew what would happen if she mistimed a step. Cold fear joined the adrenaline that burned her arms and legs. Her left ankle sang with pain.

  Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall …

  She had no real plan beyond leading Henry away, losing him in the woods, then looping around back to Stonecrop.

  The police will be waiting for you. But that didn’t matter now. The petty vandalism to the antiques shop, the stolen rings in Daniela’s pocket – none of that mattered. So long as Stephanie was all right.

  The memory of Stephanie hitting the ground made Daniela gasp with physical pain. Tears burned her eyes. Please let her be okay.

  Henry was close behind. Closer than expected. For an old, out-of-shape guy, he was keeping pace with Daniela.

  A dark shape loomed up on the left. The ruins of Kirk Cottage. Daniela hadn’t deliberately aimed for that location, but she veered towards it now. Her night vision still hadn’t recovered, but she could see enough to make out the huge, solid shape of the exterior walls.

  ‘Come back here!’ Henry yelled.

  Daniela slid down the slope to the building. She angled towards the window at the front of the building. It seemed a lot longer ago than yesterday morning when she’d last been there, kicking a hole in the boards covering the window, out of an undirected desire for destruction.

  The ground around the old mill was slick with mud and fallen leaves. The dark and silent River Bade flowed by just feet away. Given its position adjacent to the river, it was inevitable the area would flood every spring; after years of neglect and inadequate drainage, the ground was always sodden.

  This was an ideal place to lose Henry. Daniela could sneak around the exterior of the building, get back onto the path, and retrace her steps without Henry knowing where she’d gone. More than twelve minutes had elapsed. In the distance, Daniela was certain she heard the swoop and wail of sirens arriving in Stonecrop.

  She tried to swallow the fear that pulsed through her. When Henry knocked Stephanie down, it’d shocked all the bravado out of Daniela. Although she’d known he was capable of snapping, she’d never seen it first-hand. And now he was chasing her and she didn’t know what would happen if he caught her. She was alone out there with him. Could she really make it back into the village without him catching her?

  Daniela felt her way along the stone wall and located the broken board on the window. The moon behind its veil of clouds cast a little light, not really enough to see by. The hole at the base of the window was just large enough for Daniela to squeeze through. Inside was pitch black.

  She heard Henry slithering down the slope behind her. Quickly, she pushed through the hole in the window. Her shoulders scraped the jagged plyboard edges.

  The interior of the house smelled of stagnant water and mud and rot. The dead smell of a long-abandoned space. Jumping down from the window, Daniela splashed into an inch of freezing water. She swore in surprise and annoyance. The rains hadn’t been particularly heavy that year, so this water must be left over from the last flood. The earth beneath the house was too sodden to drain.

  The last time Daniela was there, aside from the brief visit the previous day, the floor had been a spread of mud and mulch, with a few deep, oily puddles. In the corners were discarded cans and bottles – some left by Daniela – along with patches of scraggy nettles and, against the far wall, a set of stone steps that led to where the first floor used to be. But she could see none of it now. Outside it was dark; inside it was a tomb.

  She moved forwards, aware the darkness could be hiding anything. Above her head a shelf of rotted boards jutted out into space. Most had collapsed. In a few years the rest would follow. The roof was a latticework of exposed wooden beams that opened onto the sky. The thin moonlight was too faint to penetrate the interior of the gutted building.

  Outside, Henry cursed as he lost his footing on the slope. Daniela slipped into the darkness at the side of the window. The gap she’d squeezed through was an irregular patch of grey.

  In the water at her feet she located a loose chunk of brick. She weighed it in her hand. The drip of water was louder than her breathing.

  37

  She heard scuffling as Henry found the window. A shadow covered the gap in the board. Daniela gripped the brick tighter and prayed Henry wouldn’t see the hole. She wanted him to think she’d run back into the trees. As soon as he set foot back in Stonecrop the police would have him and this would be over.

  Henry stopped. His shadow retreated, allowing the patch of light to reappear, and Daniela knew he’d spotted the hole. Daniela held her breath. Would he come in, or wait for her to come out? The thought of staying here all night to out-wait him made her shiver.

  ‘Got you,’ Henry said in a triumphant whisper.

  He tried to get through the gap in the window quickly, one arm in front, waving the golf club to ward off attack, but his shoulders were too wide and they jammed against the plyboard. Daniela was less than two feet away. Her fingers were sweaty around the weight of the brick. She watched Henry force his way through the window with his unprotected back turned.

  Daniela let him get clear of the window. He staggered upright, turning one way then the other, feet splashing through the shallow water.

  ‘Where are you?’ Henry shouted. ‘I know you’re here!’ His voice bounced off the damp walls.

  In that instant, Daniela could’ve run. But all she could think of was Stephanie, unmoving on the ground.

  Daniela took two steps so she was behind Henry. With a
swift, vicious kick, she sent the toe of her boot into the back of his knee.

  He cried out as his leg buckled. Daniela kicked him again, in the small of the back. He dropped to his knees in the water.

  Daniela grabbed his collar. Henry flailed his arms. He’d lost the golf club. She raised the chunk of brick and smashed it down on his skull.

  Henry yelped. He tried to strike out with his right arm, and she hit him again, bringing the brick down behind his ear.

  That took the fight out of him. He dropped onto his front, barely conscious enough to keep his face clear of the water.

  Daniela knelt to straddle his back, one hand gripping his shirt, ignoring the chill of freezing water through the knees of her jeans. The tight knot of hurt inside her chest was at last released. She was conscious of the most inconsequential details – the rough texture of the brick in her hand, the decaying sweetness of the air in her lungs, the copper tang of blood dripping into oily water. It’d be so easy to bring down the brick again, or to shift her weight and force Henry’s face below the surface. More than just easy: instinctive, natural.

  ‘Wait,’ Henry gasped. ‘Don’t.’

  Daniela almost laughed. She liked this reversal, with Henry the one who was terrified. His voice sounded thick, like he was hurt bad. She realised she might’ve already done something irreversible. The thought both horrified and excited her.

  ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drown you,’ Daniela said.

  ‘I didn’t start this,’ Henry said, the menace gone from his voice, replaced by a tinge of panic. ‘Franklyn—’

  ‘Yeah, I saw what you did to her.’

  ‘And you think she didn’t deserve it?’

  Daniela tightened her grip on Henry’s collar, forcing his head closer to the water. ‘Whatever you think she’s done, it wasn’t worth breaking her fingers.’

  ‘No?’ Henry let out a huff of laughter that rippled the water. ‘You’ve no idea. I bet you haven’t heard half the stuff she’s done these last few years.’

  ‘You can’t convince me she’s worse than you.’

  ‘You think? I’ve never killed anyone.’

  Daniela stared down at him. In the darkness she saw the outline of Henry’s head and the pale ghosts of his hands braced in the mud beneath the water. Faint starlight glittered off the disturbed surface.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure she didn’t tell you that, did she?’ Henry laughed again. His voice was stronger. ‘She likes to pretend she’s never put a foot wrong, especially now, making a big deal about her crisis of conscience. You fell for it, didn’t you? She’s persuasive, I’ll give her that.’

  Daniela shook her head as if she could fling Henry’s words away. ‘Franklyn would never—’

  ‘Ten months ago, she cut the brakes on my van. I skidded out, flipped the van, ditched into a canal. She meant to kill me. That’s the sort of person your sister is.’

  ‘You’re lying.’ Daniela shifted her weight so Henry was an inch closer to the water. ‘Whatever you say she did—’

  ‘There’s more. A lot more. And now she’s tried to turn my own family against me. So, yeah, you bet I got my friends to deal with her. It’s what she deserved. Be thankful she’s still breathing.’

  Daniela’s arms and fingers were cramping from keeping the brick raised. The cold made her shake. She focused on the back of Henry’s head, on the darker patch of bloodied skin just visible in the faint light, and wondered how much force it’d take to shatter the skull. Her stomach rolled.

  ‘Yeah, you don’t like me saying that, do you?’ Henry chuckled. He was becoming braver, certain Daniela’s threats were empty. ‘But it’s the truth, and it’d be what she deserves. She’s her father’s daughter all right. I never should’ve trusted her.’

  ‘You took her money easily enough.’

  ‘And what did it get me, apart from trouble? She was happy enough to pay me when she wanted to be part of my business, but then she gets cold feet, tries to run out on me, just like your old man did, and when I say no, she goes and tells Margaret everything.’ Henry’s shoulders bunched. ‘She wants to take Margaret and Leo from me. That’s why her fingers are broken. One for my wife, one for my son. Because they’re the people she’ll hurt most.’ He turned his head a little so he could almost see her. ‘And now here’s you, breaking into my shop, threatening to burn down my house. And you assume you’ll get away with it. You think you’re protected, by your dad, by your sisters.’

  Stephanie. A sob lodged in Daniela’s throat. She raised her arm.

  A slight noise caught Daniela’s attention. She been distracted, otherwise she would’ve realised sooner that someone was behind her.

  Daniela twisted around. The person was between Daniela and the boarded window. A thin woman who wore shirt sleeves regardless of the cold, and whose straggly blond hair was almost luminous in the darkness.

  ‘Auryn,’ Daniela said in surprise. ‘What—?’

  ‘Dani?’ Auryn felt her way through the water. Her night vision had never been good. ‘Leo saw you run off. He said you went—’

  ‘Get out of here. Go!’

  Auryn stumbled over a piece of debris. ‘Dani? What—?’

  Daniela suddenly saw herself, hunched like an animal over Henry. Daniela let go of him and shoved herself upright, leaving the man gasping in the mud. She flung the brick away. It clonked off the wall and splashed into the water.

  ‘Nothing,’ Daniela said to Auryn. She felt breathless. ‘Nothing. Why’re you here?’

  ‘I-I followed you. I thought—’

  ‘Why didn’t you stay with Steph?’

  ‘She’s okay. The ambulance is with her.’ Auryn peered past her with wide eyes. ‘Dani, what—?’

  ‘You should never have told Steph where I was going. She went to the antiques shop because you told her I was there, and look what happened to her.’

  Auryn blinked at her. ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘You should’ve minded your own business.’ Daniela glanced back at Henry, who was struggling upright. She gave Auryn a push. ‘C’mon. Let’s get out of here.’

  Henry staggered a little but stayed on his feet. He shook water from his fingers.

  ‘All of you girls should’ve minded your own business,’ he said. ‘That’s the whole problem with your family. Your mother was just the same.’

  ‘Don’t talk about her,’ Auryn snapped with a rare flash of anger.

  Despite the blood on his scalp, Henry smiled as he looked at her. ‘You could’ve taken a lesson from her, if you’d been smart,’ he said. ‘She knew when to cut her losses and get out.’

  Auryn’s fists clenched. ‘It’s your fault she’s gone. You did it.’

  Henry shrugged. The momentary fear he’d shown when Daniela knocked him down was long gone now. ‘Who knows why she left? But I can tell you it’s not my fault she never came back. Have you ever considered that? What could it take to keep a mother away from her kids for so many years?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Daniela said. She took a step back towards the window. Her hand moved to her pocket before she remembered the knife wasn’t there. Auryn had swapped it out for that stupid pen-torch, back at the house.

  Auryn held her ground. She was trembling with a rage Daniela had never seen before.

  ‘You must’ve figured out the truth,’ Henry said. ‘I know Frankie did. Your mother stayed gone because of you. Because she couldn’t stand the sight of you.’

  Auryn made a lunge for him. Daniela only just managed to get in front of Auryn and hold her back.

  ‘Don’t,’ Daniela tried to say, before Auryn shoved her aside.

  Daniela’s foot came down on a hidden piece of debris and she fell, sitting down hard in the freezing water. Unhindered, Auryn went for Henry again, who laughed as he fended her off.

  He stopped laughing when Auryn took the flick-knife out of her pocket. The black and red snake glittered in the faint light. Her finger found the release button and the blade popped out with an audi
ble click.

  ‘C’mon, sweetheart—’ Henry started.

  Auryn lunged for him again. Henry shoved her back, the flat of his hand catching her across the face. But she was too close to him.

  It all happened so fast that by the time Daniela was back on her feet, Auryn was stumbling back, her lip bleeding from where Henry’s hand had caught her. More blood dripped from the blade in her hand. It made bright ribbons in the muddy water at her feet.

  Henry sat down; a slow, gentle movement, like an arthritic man lowering himself into a chair. When he passed the halfway point, he fell backwards and sat down hard. The front of his shirt was soaked.

  Daniela’s brain was running at half-speed – no, her brain was fine, it was screaming at her, but her body was too slow. The wet stain spread across Henry’s shirt, and it was far darker than water, darker than the shadows.

  Daniela felt her legs go out from under her. She fell heavily against the nearest wall. It was like something important had been severed inside her. Although she felt her legs trembling, she couldn’t make them work.

  Henry made another weak attempt to rise but fell back again. Each breath was a gasping wheeze. The knife had struck him in the left side of the chest, below the lowermost ribs. It might’ve punctured a lung or torn open an artery. He could be bleeding to death internally. The horror of what Auryn had done made Daniela reel.

  ‘You’re dead … bitch …’ Henry’s eyes were as wide as Daniela’s, as if he too couldn’t believe what’d happened. ‘You … and your family … the lot of you, you’re dead … I’ll burn your fucking house to the ground … I’ll kill you. All of you.’ He looked at Daniela as he said it.

  Daniela’s chest hitched. She clenched her teeth to stop from throwing up. ‘We have to go,’ she said. Her voice was a shocked whisper. ‘Now. We’ve got to—’

  But her brain was stuck. All she could think was get out, get out, as if this was something she could run away from.

  Henry spat blood into the water. ‘You,’ he said at Auryn. ‘You’re finished. You and Leo … you’ll never be with him again. You think I’ll let him run off with you? After what you’ve done? You’re not going anywhere, and neither is he.’