Читать книгу Neil White 3 Book Bundle - Neil White - Страница 46

John was walking round the house, checking each window, when he saw her.

He shouted, banged on the window, but it was no use. It was Dawn, running across the field, her hair streaming behind her, pausing only by the Seven Sisters, just for a moment, touching one of the stones. Then she looked back and set off again, before heading for the wall.

‘Shit! No, you don’t,’ he shouted, and then he bolted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. People called his name in the house, curious, but he kept going. Dawn must have heard him as he ran out of the house, because she looked round, but it just made her run faster, sprinting for the tumbledown section of the wall.

His footsteps were loud in his ears as he ran, and he remembered to avoid the traps. As he went past the Seven Sisters, Dawn was scrambling over the wall, crying, sounding desperate, heading into the woods and making for the path.

John hit the wall at a sprint, vaulting over, ignoring the scrape of his knees on the top or the judder in his ankle as he landed. His lungs ached, but he had to keep going. Panic was driving her. All he had to fall back on was his own strength. He almost stumbled on tree roots, and his knees gave way as his feet hit hollows in the path, but still he kept on going. She was still within sight, a dark shadow moving quickly, not heading for the long path towards Oulton but for the road, hoping to stop a passing car.

Dawn looked back as she ran though. A mistake. It slowed her down, so that he gained on her and could hear her fear coming out in yelps and cries, audible over the thumps of his feet and the urgency of his breaths. She wasn’t going to make it to the gate.

He got within ten yards of her, and Dawn went to her knees, gasping for breath, her arms over her head. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she cried, between gulps of air. ‘Please don’t hurt me. I won’t do it again. I was weak. I’m scared. I’m sorry. Forgive me.’

John stood over her, his heart beating hard in his chest, his lungs dry from exhaustion. ‘Why did you run?’

Dawn scrambled to her feet, and so John grabbed her, to stop her running again. She looked down and her shoulders started to heave with sobs.

‘It’s not going to end how you think, believe me,’ she said. ‘There is no rebellion, no uprising. So help me, please, just let me go.’

John pushed her to her knees. His fists clenched and Dawn shrank back, frightened, her eyes frantic. ‘Don’t hurt me.’

He closed his eyes, one hand gripping her shoulder. He breathed through his nose, deep and angry. A flush crept up his cheeks.

‘Why are you trying to escape?’ he said in a growl. ‘We have to stay together. It’s important.’

‘You sound like Henry.’

‘Of course I sound like him. We are part of the same group. We have the same ideals, don’t we?’

Dawn shook her head and started to laugh, but it was hysterical, tears streaming down her face.

‘You say we, but you don’t know who Henry is.’

‘I know what he has taught me.’

‘Bullshit! It is all fucking bullshit. You know nothing.’

John shook her by the arm, his own eyes blazing now. ‘I know that if you get away, you’ll talk about Henry, and so whatever great plans he has, they won’t happen, and so it will all have been for nothing.’

She yanked back. ‘Fuck Henry. Fuck Arni. Fuck you. All of you. Think about Henry. What do you know about him? I mean, really know?’

John paused at that, and his mind went back to what he knew about Henry before he arrived, and what he had been told. He shook his head. ‘I know him differently now.’

‘From what? The petty thief? The burglar? The fraudster? What about the sex offender, that kid at the party? Did you know about that? He doesn’t mention that too much, does he, how he went to prison for buggering some teenage boy.’

John swallowed. He glanced back and could see people gathering outside the house, just visible through the trees, cast against the light shining through the doorway.

‘Why do you think he ended up hanging around with the likes of us?’ Dawn continued. ‘Because he was shunned everywhere else. For his violence, his attitude, the way he thinks the world owes him for his own failures.’

‘You need to keep your voice down,’ John said. ‘We’ve all trodden difficult paths to get here.’

She screeched with laughter and then wiped her mouth with her hand. ‘Do you believe all that? It was fun, John, that’s all. But Henry had to take control, because he does that, likes being the focus, except that this time people listened to him. And if they want to believe it enough, they start to believe it, because it gives them answers. But it was never meant to be like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Murder.’

John’s eyes widened.

‘We were peaceful, loving,’ she continued. ‘Not killers.’

‘Who has he killed?’ John’s grip loosened on her arm.

‘Look around you,’ she said. ‘The stones you’re so fond of, the Seven Sisters.’

John was confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You don’t know, do you?’ When he didn’t answer, she continued, ‘It’s not a memorial, or a legacy, John. It’s a graveyard.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘People have tried to run away in the past, or have stood up to him, or not done as he said.’ She flicked her hand towards the field. ‘They are all there, under the ground, a stone for each of them.’

John looked over, the blood rushing through his head making sounds disappear, the shadows amongst the trees getting darker.

‘Seven?’ he said, eventually.

‘Get a spade, John,’ she said. ‘Dig around the stones and you’ll find them, the ones who tried to leave. That was the message – that if you threaten Henry, you die. Fear keeps us together, not love, or fellowship, or revolutions.’

John tried to take in what Dawn had just said. He looked back towards the field again, and the stones seemed different now. Darker. Colder. He looked at the woman in front of him, and he thought back to the nights he had spent with Henry, the truths that Henry had asked him to believe.

‘I’m scared, John,’ Dawn continued, her voice broken by sobs. ‘That’s why I’m still here, because I’m a coward. Henry made us take part, like it was some kind of thrill taken too far, our joint secret.’

‘You’re not making any sense.’

‘You’ve heard of Billy Privett, and that poor girl, Alice, who was found in his pool?’

‘Billy Privett? What has he got to do with this?’

‘Because he’s got money, and Henry wanted it, like he wants yours. That’s all you are, an asset to be stripped. You’ve got a house, and you’ve got money. Henry saw it in the paper.’

‘But what about the girl at the party, Alice?’

Before Dawn could explain, Gemma appeared further along the path, striding towards them. Her mouth was set, her fists clenched.

Dawn looked up at John, her eyes pleading, tears making a slow trail down her cheeks.

Gemma marched past him and grabbed Dawn by the arm.

‘Back to the house,’ Gemma barked at her, and then looked at John. ‘Henry said someone would betray us. Don’t listen to her.’

And with that, Gemma pulled on Dawn, making her get to her feet. Once she was standing, Gemma gripped her hair and started to drag her, stumbling, back along the path.

‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ Dawn shouted, her voice desperate. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

John walked behind them. He looked at the standing stones as he got closer and started to think that he should have let Dawn escape, because what if she was telling the truth, that there were people under the ground? Then Gemma turned to smile at him, and he felt the same flutter in his chest whenever she did that. A glow, a warm feeling inside, despite what had happened. He knew then that he couldn’t leave just yet, because he couldn’t abandon Gemma. He loved her, he had known that from the start, and so he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.