Dead Water
Page 22

 Tim O'Rourke

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Instead, he kidnapped a healthy half-breed; he kidnapped my friend, Kayla.”
Meren sat quietly as if contemplating what I had just told her. After a few short moments, she turned to face me again and said, “Why were we brought back then?”
I thought about this, and shaking my head, I said, “I don’t know. The only creatures that really know why are the Elders, and they speak in riddles. But I believe we are getting closer to the answer – closer to the truth.”
Again, Meren sat silently as if registering what I had told her. Then, shooting me a sideways glance she said, “Did you know my mother?”
I thought of everything Murphy had told me and how Pen had given her daughters up as babies. She had left them in a box, sick and weak in Murphy’s care. He had told Meren her mother had died. He hadn’t told either of his daughters about their real mother. Not wanting to lie to Meren, and knowing the truth should come from Murphy, I looked away and said, “I didn’t know your mother.”
Feeling a little uncomfortable about keeping the truth from Meren, I got up and brushed the damp leaves from the seat of my trousers. There was little snow on the ground beneath the trees, but there was enough to have made the ground damp.
“C’mon,” I said, looking down at Meren.
“I think the last of those police cars has gone now.
We should get closer to the town. We haven’t got long before your father comes looking for us.”
I set off, keeping back from the road.
Meren followed, then caught up with me.
“I saw you in the summerhouse,” she suddenly said with a faint smile. “I saw you and that man, Potter.”
I felt my cheeks fill with blood, as I remembered looking up and finding a statue looking in at us as Potter and I had made love. “So that was you, was it?”
“I’m sorry,” Meren said with a cheeky grin. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t see much. The windows were so covered with rain, and it was dark inside.”
“Wow, that makes me feel a whole lot better,” I said, my cheeks still burning red. I looked away.
“Do you love him?” she asked me.
I looked at Meren and said, “Yes, I love him with all my heart. He can be difficult at times – a real pain in the arse – but I love him all the same. I love Potter more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
“Will you get married?” she pushed.
“He hasn’t asked,” I said.
“But what if he did?” Meren wouldn’t let up.
“Then I would say yes,” I said, with a thoughtful smile.
Meren giggled.
“Besides, it will never happen,” I said, bending low to avoid a branch.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Men like Potter don’t ask you to marry them,” I sighed. “Men like Potter aren’t the marrying type. They can’t or won’t settle down.”
“Why?” Meren asked.
Before I’d the chance to answer, there was a sudden noise in the distance. “Shhh!” I said, pressing my finger to my lips.
Cocking my head to one side, I heard the sound of cheering, followed by someone speaking through a loudspeaker. At once my mind flashed with images of my nightmare. In them I could see Jack being forced to crouch down by a man in a black hood. I could see the blade of the guillotine come slicing down.
“Jack?” I breathed aloud.
“Who’s Jack?” Meren frowned.
“Jack’s my brother, and he is about to be executed,” I said, turning on my heels and racing towards the town of Wasp Water.
Chapter Thirty
Kiera
“Where are you going?” Meren called after me.
“I’ve got to save him,” I shouted back over my shoulder, the sound of cheering in the distance growing louder and raucous with every passing moment.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Meren said, catching up with me.
“Neither did I,” I shot back, breaking free of the trees and darting out onto the road.
“This isn’t safe,” Meren suddenly said, grabbing hold of my arm.
“We promised my dad we would only have a scout about – take a look – and then report back.”
“But they’re gonna execute my brother!” I snapped, yanking my arm free of her grip.
“That town is full of wolves,” Meren tried to reason with me. “They’ll spot us a mile off, and then it will be us they’re executing.”
It was hard to argue her point. I had a sudden thought as I remembered my nightmare.
“Do we look so different from them? Aren’t we half wolf, too? You can tell human from a wolf because of the colour of their eyes. Our eyes are practically the same as theirs. They won’t be able to tell the difference – not if we’re careful.”
Meren looked down the road towards the town, then back at me. “How do you know it’s your brother who is going to be executed?”
“I see things,” I told her. “Meren, you’re gonna have to trust me on this.”
“But what about my father?” she said.
“We made him a promise.”
“I understand if you don’t want to break that promise, I really do,” I told her. “But I have to go and help Jack.” Turning away from her, I raced up the road towards the town. I looked back only once to see Meren darting back off the road and into the trees for cover.
Just like I had in my dream, I made my way through the throng of wolves who had crushed themselves in to the town square. I kept my head down, only looking up if I had to. I pulled my coat about my frame, in the hopes that it made me smaller somehow, less visible. The wolves jostled and bustled all around me. They stank of sweat. Straw lined the streets, and the town looked rundown and tired. The Tudor houses looked uncared for and no longer fit for human habitation. Even though these wolves wandered around in human skins, it appeared they were still very much like animals. Dog shit, or was that wolf shit, lay squashed along the cobbled streets. Blood ran along the gutters, where human remains clogged the storm drains.
Skinwalkers, disguised as humans, crowded into the town square. And unlike in my dream, I knew exactly what they had come to see.
I understood why an electric current of excitement buzzed through the crowd.
They stared expectantly ahead, their bright yellow eyes set in their sunken sockets. I eased my way through the Skinwalkers, desperate to get nearer to the stage I knew was up ahead, the stage where my brother would be executed if I didn’t somehow manage to set him free. But how?
There was only me against hundreds and hundreds of wolves. I didn’t have time to go back and get my friends. By the time I would return with them, Jack would be dead. And besides, would Murphy risk everything just to save Jack Seth? I doubted it.
The only person who was ever going to save Jack, was me. But how?
I continued to push my way through the crowds, ducking beneath waving arms, and between the bristling bodies of the wolves. Then ahead, I could hear the sound of that man’s voice coming through the loudhailer. It sounded mechanical, like a robot from a science fiction film. The Skinwalkers whooped and cheered, punching the air with their fists. They really were animals.
“Welcome to today’s executions,” he bellowed through the loudhailer. “Do we have a surprise for you all today!”
The crowd roared with an insatiable excitement as they jostled closer towards the stage, all of them wanting a better look at the gruesome event about to be played out before them. I forced my way forward for different reasons than those of the wolves surrounding me.
Just like I had seen in my nightmare, the fountain had been reduced to rubble, and in its place had been erected the stage and guillotine. It towered above the stage, looking bigger and more intimidating in the real world. The blade gleamed like diamonds in the morning light. It looked razor-sharp. Wolves pressed up against me, and the atmosphere was suffocating, thick with a palatable excitement.
“Okay, so let’s not delay the main event any longer!” the guy yelled through the speaker.
“Please welcome to the stage, our executioner!”
The crowd exploded in an uproar of cheers and whistles as the hooded man stepped out on top of the stage. He waved back at the crowd like some kind of celebrity.
“We love you!” a female Skinwalker screamed, waving what looked like an autograph book in the air.
She’ll be throwing her panties up onto the stage next, I thought feeling sick to my stomach.
“He loves you, too!” the guy roared through the loudhailer.
The woman screamed, then fainted, the thought of the executioner loving her back just becoming way too much for her. I saw the female Skinwalker sink beneath the crowd, then heard the sound of her bones crunching as the other wolves trampled over her, desperate to get as close to the stage as possible.
“So who are you going to be beheading for us today?” the guy asked the executioner.
“A killer!” the executioner roared at the crowd from beneath his hood. “A killer of wolves!”
The crowd erupted angrily and pressed themselves against the stage. They punched the air with their fists as they hissed and booed.
“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” the crowd started to chant.
From the side of the stage another hooded man was shoved forward. I knew who was beneath that hood, and my stomach knotted.
As I had seen before, he staggered blindly across the stage. His arms were secured behind his back with chains. The executioner grabbed him roughly by the arm.
“Unmask him!” someone roared from the crowd.
“Show us the killer’s face!” another yelled.
“Unmask him! Unmask him! Unmask him!” the crowd wailed as one.
Just like in my nightmare, the guy with the speaker teased the audience by shouting, “What was that? I can’t hear you!”
“UNMASK HIM! UNMASK HIM!
UNMASK HIM!” They screamed so loud, it was deafening.