The Devil's Gate

by Malcolm Richards

  Carrie slammed her foot down on the accelerator pedal and the car took off, back along Clarence Row.

  39

  THE SHACK WAS BURNING out of control, a bright inferno that turned the sand around it to glass. Nat sat by Rose’s side, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins, her bloodied hand dull and throbbing. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting like that. Perhaps minutes. Perhaps hours. There was an emptiness inside her, a black hole that had consumed her being.

  Rose was dead. Without her, life had no meaning. She had been the only one in this world to give Nat a chance. The only one in this world who’d truly loved her. Who had protected her. Now Rose was gone and Nat was alone.

  She stared at the ocean, watched the waves rolling in, saw the cider barrels floating further and further away, passing by the Devil’s Gate, missing it completely. Above her, seagulls floated on the breeze, their cries soaring high.

  A deafening crack made Nat blink. Slowly, she turned her head, saw The Shack collapse in on itself, sending thousands of bright red sparks into the air and hot flames licking the sky.

  She turned back to Rose. Stared at her pale, lifeless form.

  She lifted her wounded hand, turned it over, examining the raw, bloody puncture in the centre of her palm. It was still bleeding, but the blood was congealing now, the flow slowing down.

  The boy she had killed lay on the sand, next to the burning remains of the bar. A length of timber had fallen across his legs, the wood charred and smoking, the edges glowing red.

  Nat returned her gaze to Rose, reached out with her injured hand and stroked the woman’s face.

  The grief was coming. She could sense it climbing out of the black hole like a monstrous beast, thick, razor-sharp claws sinking into her flesh.

  It was coming, and it would tear her apart.

  She couldn't let it happen. Not yet.

  When the time came, she would embrace it fully. Would let it eat her alive. But not now.

  Sitting up on her knees, she shut her eyes and willed herself to be numb, coaxing the beast back into its hole. Leaning down, she kissed Rose on both cheeks, then on her forehead. Then on her mouth.

  “You were my real mother,” she whispered. “I never told you that. But I hope you knew.”

  Slipping fingers into Rose’s dress pocket, she pulled out the handkerchief that she knew would be inside, shook it open, then wrapped it tightly around her injured hand. Once it was secure, she got to her feet.

  Her eyes found the dead boy again. Saw the knife on the sand. The bottle of fuel he'd used to set fire to The Shack. The devil mask that had looked so terrifying not so long ago, now lay half buried in sand, nothing more than cheap plastic fancy dress.

  Nat turn ninety degrees and stared up at the town. What she saw took her breath away. Devil’s Cove was burning, smoke billowing in thick, black plumes.

  Nat was alone. In hell. Just like she was meant to be.

  She didn't care if she lived or died. Everything she loved had been snatched away. But if she was going to die, the Dawn Children would be coming with her.

  40

  THE CAR SHOT ALONG the street, Carrie’s eyes sharp and focused on the turning up ahead. Out of nowhere, a masked teenager sprang through the air and lunged at the car. Carrie swerved. The girl slammed onto the bonnet then went up and over the roof. Shrieking, Carrie swerved again, almost colliding with a row of parked cars. Her eyes shot up to the rear-view mirror and she saw the girl hit the tarmac, then bounce and roll.

  I’ve killed a child! she thought, as Melissa screamed in the backseat.

  But she had no time to process it. The Dawn Children were turning off the hill and entering Clarence Row behind her; a vicious mob of red devils.

  “Hold on!” Carrie cried.

  They reached the end of the row and she spun the wheel, turning onto the path that ran alongside. It wasn’t made for cars and was just wide enough to squeeze the vehicle through.

  Gears crunching, paintwork scraping against the barrier, Carrie drove on until she reached the top. She spun the wheel again and turned onto Grenville Row, where she slammed on the brakes.

  Without turning off the engine, she threw open the door and climbed out, then went around to the back and freed Melissa from her booster seat. Scooping her up in her arms, she turned and ran.

  She reached the pavement, pushed open the gate of the first house on the left. As she hurried along the garden path, she risked a glance over her shoulder. She heard shouts and running.

  The Dawn Children had reached the end of Clarence Row and were entering the side path. She had a minute, maybe two, before they’d appear around the corner.

  Carrie glanced down the length of Grenville Row, which was so dangerously close to the blockade, and saw one of the Dawn Children moving along the street.

  Heart leaping into her throat, she tightened her grip on Melissa and continued along the path, through the garden and along the side of the house. She didn't know the woman who lived here – only that she was called Jane. To Carrie, she was just a face she sometimes saw around town, or a name Rose sometimes mentioned because Rose knew just about everyone. Oh, Rose! I hope Nat found her. I hope they’re safe! If Jane was inside the house now, she was staying deathly silent.

  Carrie slid to a halt. The backyard was paved and empty, weeds growing up through the cracks. A tall, wooden fence ran along the length of the yard and continued on, bordering the backs of all the houses on Grenville Row. On the other side, a thick canopy of leaves towered over the roofs.

  Briar Wood.

  This was their way out. The only way to escape the town.

  Putting Melissa down, Carrie hurried over to the fence and tested each vertical board, slipping her fingers between the tiny gaps, attempting and failing to pry one free.

  Panic rising, she stepped back.

  The fence was six feet tall. She could reach the top with her hands and pull herself up.

  But what about Melissa?

  She crouched down and stared at her daughter, who was pale and trembling.

  “Listen to me,” Carrie said, any pretence at calm long gone. “We have to go over the fence. I’m going to put you on my back and you’ll put your arms around my neck. Just like a piggyback ride. I’ll climb to the top, then swing over. You’re going to hold on as tight as you can and you’re not going to let go.”

  Melissa's eyes grew round and scared. “No, I –”

  “It’s not up for discussion. You need to do exactly as I say. We’re going over the fence. You and me, together. Understood?”

  Melissa didn't move, just stared.

  “Understood?” Carrie said, raising her voice, hating herself for it.

  Melissa nodded. Tears slipped from her eyes.

  “Good girl. That's my sweet pea.” Carrie kissed her hard on the cheek, then twisted around. “Climb on.”

  She felt Melissa’s body press against her back, felt her tiny arms wrap around her neck and her frightened breaths on her hair. Carrie stood and Melissa wrapped her legs around her mother’s waist.

  “Hold on tight,” Carrie said.

  She approached the fence. Reached up and grabbed the top with her fingers. She hoisted herself up, shoes pressing into the wooden boards, her aching muscles complaining in her arms.

  Melissa squealed and squeezed Carrie’s neck, choking her as she clumsily swung her right leg up and over.

  “I'm scared, Mummy!”

  “You’re doing great, sweet pea. We’re almost there,” Carrie gasped.

  She was straddling the fence now and peering through the trees of Briar Wood. It was quiet and still out there, rays of sunlight piercing the canopy and illuminating the ground.

  “We’re going to climb over. You need to hold on tight. There’s a drop. Not a big one, but I’ll try to land on my feet, okay?”

  ”No, I’ll fall!”

  “Remember what I told you. You need to be brave. You need to do exactly what I say.”r />
  “Okay,” Melissa sobbed.

  “Good girl. You're my little angel. I’m going to swing my other leg over right now. Then we’ll –”

  White hot, searing pain ripped through Carrie’s left leg.

  She screamed in agony. Looked down and saw a hunting knife buried deep in her thigh, right up to the hilt.

  She saw Morwenna, mask-free, staring up at her from the yard and grinning wickedly.

  Without thinking, Carrie twisted her upper body, grabbed Melissa’s wrist and wrenched her from her back. Melissa dangled in mid-air for a second, shocked eyes staring at her mother.

  Then Carrie let her go.

  Melissa fell, hitting the muddy ground of Briar Wood.

  “Run!” Carrie screamed. “Run as fast as you can!”

  Morwenna grabbed the hilt of the knife and twisted it. Carrie shrieked again in pain. Her vision turned white. Then she was dragged from the fence, back into the yard.

  41

  CARRIE HIT THE GROUND hard, landing on her back and knocking the air from her lungs. Morwenna was on top of her, fists raining down on Carrie's chest, nails scratching at her face and neck, clawing at her eyes.

  She was laughing, her face contorting into a terrible grimace. Then she was wrapping fingers around Carrie's throat and choking the life from her.

  “This is what you get!” she hissed, her face coming close to Carrie’s. Her eyes were wide and rolling, the pupils grossly dilated. “This is what you get for raising a monster!”

  Her hands squeezed tighter.

  Carrie grasped Morwenna’s wrists and tried to prise them away. But the young woman’s grip was like iron.

  Her vision was turning red.

  A pulsing started in her temples, growing more intense by the second, until it was pounding like a kettle drum.

  She kicked out. The hilt of the knife that was still buried in her leg hit the ground. Lightning bolts of pain shot through her thigh and she almost blacked out.

  “Your son ruined everything! Jacob had a plan. You and your stupid son ruined it all!” Hands still gripped around Carrie’s throat, Morwenna bent down and sank teeth into her face.

  Fresh pain ripped through Carrie’s cheek. Blood and saliva ran down her neck.

  Morwenna sat up again and pressed her weight on Carrie's throat.

  Carrie thrashed and bucked her hips. Managed to get a foot on the ground.

  Morwenna held fast.

  Everything was going dark.

  Yellow spots speckled the shadows.

  The pounding in her head crashed like thunder.

  From beneath it all, Carrie felt something pressing into her skin. Something in her back pocket.

  As Morwenna throttled the life from her, as everything began to fade away, Carrie reached beneath her bucking body and pulled out the fruit knife.

  She swung her arm, slicing the blade across Morwenna's face.

  The young woman shrieked. Released her grip on Carrie's throat. She fell back, grasping the open wound on her cheek.

  Choking and gasping for air, Carrie scrambled away on her elbows.

  “You fucking bitch!” Morwenna screamed.

  She sprang forward like a wild animal, hands curled like sharp talons, spittle flying from her mouth. She landed on top of Carrie. Raised a fist. Brought it down hard on Carrie’s chin.

  Blood rained from Morwenna’s cheek as she struck again.

  With an anguished scream, Carrie lashed out.

  The fruit knife punctured Morwenna’s throat. Her eyes grew round with surprise. The women stared at each other in horror. Then Carrie pulled out the blade.

  Blood pulsed from Morwenna’s neck. She clutched a hand to the wound and slipped to the side, rolling from Carrie’s body, where she lay on the ground, choking and spluttering, a pool of blood widening beneath her.

  Then she was silent and still.

  Carrie gasped and wheezed. Her throat was on fire. Her leg was a mess. But now footsteps were stampeding towards her.

  Adrenaline shooting through her body, she dragged herself to her feet. The blade was still embedded in her thigh, the wound pulsating all the way down to her feet.

  She clenched her jaw, grabbed the top of the fence and hoisted herself up once more. With a terrible, agonising cry, she swung her injured leg over until she was straddling the top.

  The Dawn Children entered the backyard, masked faces staring up at her, then down at Morwenna's lifeless corpse. Carrie swung her other leg over and jumped to the ground.

  White hot pain incinerated her nerve endings. She fell to her hands and knees, vomit bubbling in her throat. She managed to pull herself up then looked wildly around.

  Melissa wasn't here.

  “Sweet pea!” she cried, her voice broken and strangled.

  Behind her, the Dawn Children were climbing the fence.

  Carrie staggered forward. Blood soaked her leg.

  Her throat burned as she called Melissa's name.

  She turned a full circle. Saw the Dawn Children leaping from the fence and hitting the ground. Saw more of them appearing through the trees up ahead, coming from the direction of the roadblock.

  They came closer, surrounding Carrie in a perfect circle. Just like they’d done to the man in the video.

  And then she saw her. Melissa.

  But she wasn't alone.

  Carrie stared at the young man who had an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. He smiled at her – a sweet smile for someone so dangerous – then waved a hand through the air.

  The Dawn Children began removing their masks.

  Carrie gasped. They really were children; some as young as five or six, others in their teens. They all shared the same blank expression – the one her solicitor had described from the video.

  “I know you,” Carrie said through clenched teeth, as she turned back to their leader. “Your name is Heath. You were in my house that night. You took me to Burnt House Farm. Poured petrol everywhere and left me to burn to death inside a cage.”

  Heath nodded, his arm still hanging over Melissa’s shoulder. “It's true, I did. But I was saving you. Saving you from this world. But your son decided to keep you here.”

  “He saved me!” Carrie spat. “Cal got me out of there. I'm alive because of him.”

  The pain in her leg was becoming unbearable. The blade was keeping the wound sealed, but she felt as if poison was spreading through her veins, turning them rotten.

  “Yes, you are. But at what cost?” Heath said. “We had a father once. His name was Jacob. He was the only one who cared for us. The only one who understood how dangerous this world is for children like us. He had a plan. He wanted to cleanse the world and make it safe again. But Cal ruined it. He clouded Jacob's mind. Made him confused. Jacob chose Cal to lead the New Dawn. But he should have chosen me.”

  There was madness in Heath’s eyes. Whatever had been done to him as a child, it had damaged him beyond repair. The darkness inside him was rotten and all consuming, eating away all the goodness until only anger and rage and the desire to hurt remained.

  Carrie stared at him, then shot a glance at Melissa, who was deathly pale, her face growing as expressionless as the other children as shock set in.

  “This is what it’s all about?” Carrie said. “All these people dead” – Dylan's face flashed in her mind. Joy’s and Gary’s – “all these people gone because you were jealous? Because Jacob picked Cal and not you?” Her voice trembled with anger and grief. “How very fucking mature!”

  Heath smiled, exposing his teeth. “You don't understand. This was always Jacob's plan. To cleanse the world of poisonous adults. That's why he had Cal execute that pervert of a councillor. That's why all the others had to die.”

  “The people in this town are innocent!” Carrie raged. A wave of nausea hit her, making her suddenly dizzy and weak. She glanced around the circle, saw the empty faces of the Dawn Children.

  What had happened to them all? Where were their families?

>   Heath shrugged, ran a finger along Melissa’s cheek. “Every war has its casualties. Besides, this town needed to be razed to the ground. This was Grady Spencer’s home. The greatest monster of them all. He murdered children. Tortured them. Fed them to his dog. See what he did to your son! See what he did to his own son!

  “I suppose we should thank him, really. Without him, Jacob would never have seen the light and become our father. He would never have saved us. There would be no Dawn.” Heath’s eyes grew dark and violent again. “But then Jacob was taken away from us. Along with everything he'd planned.”

  Carrie shook her head, tears rolling down her face. “Please. Let my daughter go.”

  But Heath wasn’t listening. He was frowning, searching the circle. “Where’s Morwenna?”

  One of the children, a boy no older than ten with a shock of red hair, pointed at the fence. “She’s dead. The lady killed her.”

  Carrie glanced at her daughter. At the hand that was now wrapped loosely around her throat. She had expected to see grief in Heath’s eyes. But there was only a void.

  “Then she is at peace,” he said. “Morwenna has crossed over into the New Dawn.”

  In the near distance, quiet at first, but growing louder, came the sound of sirens.

  The Dawn Children stared at each other.

  Heath grinned widely, releasing Melissa and stretching out his arms into a cross. “Salvation is at hand!”

  “It's over,” Carrie said. “The police are coming. You’ll be arrested. All of you. It doesn’t matter that you’re children – you’ll all go to prison. You’ll spend the rest of your lives regretting what you’ve done.”

  Heath shook his head. “No. We won’t. We will all go into the New Dawn.” He addressed the group now, his eyes sparkling darkly. “Our father, Jacob, he saw us ruling this world free of pain, standing on the corpses of slain monsters. But this world is not for us. This world is dark and it’s twisted and full of hate. This world wants to devour us. To tear the meat from our bones. To suck the marrow dry. But we won't allow it. We will set ourselves free.”