Hunter's Moon (2 page)

Neil had a lot on his mind. He was worried about the strange noises and smells in the woods at night. He was worried about what was killing badgers and pheasants. He was worried about poachers and those who might be after the red kites. He was uneasy about Joe Linsey and his gun. If only Jeff was back at work. He’d know what to do.
Neil needed some advice. He decided to go round to see Jeff.

A cold wind swept across the fields. It was already dark when Neil left work, with a pale moon peeping above the trees. He knew Jeff would say rain was coming. It was another of his sayings:

‘Pale moon does rain, red moon does blow,

White moon does neither rain nor snow.
’

Sure enough, it was the moon that Jeff first spoke about.

‘On Friday you’ll be able to work all night, my lad. It’s Hunter’s Moon. The brightest moon of the year. She’ll be a beauty, too. We’re in for a frosty spell after a drop of rain, and a nasty old wind tonight.’

Jeff was pale and still in pain. Even so, he wanted to know all about the jobs Neil had been doing.

‘I hope you’re ready for the big shoot at the weekend. We’ve got to give them good sport this season. This is our last chance.’

Jeff had a lot of money worries lately. He’d had to sell a lot of his sheep. His face showed the strain as he spoke softly, with a slight tremble in his voice.

‘You’ll take care, won’t you, Neil?

“Beware the nights of Hunter’s Moon,

When all beasts dance to another tune.”

‘That’s an old saying round here. But this year it’s Hallowe’en as well. Take care.’

Neil had never heard Jeff speak like this before. There was a different look in his eyes. Neil felt sorry for him as he lay there looking weak and in pain. Maybe he shouldn’t worry Jeff about anything else. He clearly had enough on his mind. But it was Jeff who first spoke about the panther.

‘Have you seen any sign of this big cat on
the loose? It’s all the gossip again. I wish I was back on my feet to sort things out. But I tell you; you need to be on the alert, Neil. My bit of wood has rich pickings. Kites, badgers, our pheasants. A good poacher could strip the lot and be a few grand the richer. But that’s not all …’

Before Jeff could finish, the room burst with a deafening crash – as a brick smashed through the window. Glass fell like rain around them. The log fire roared as an icy blast ripped at the curtains.

Neil rushed to pick up the brick. It was wrapped in paper with three words on it in large letters.

There were more letters on the back.

And they were scrawled in what looked like blood.

A storm that night snapped thick branches like sticks. As soon as it was light next morning, Neil was in the woods to look for damage. There was no wind now. All was deathly still.

Neil’s heart sank. A fence was down. A fallen tree had smashed one of the tool sheds. Wires were down and power was off
in the village. At least the pheasant pens were still in one piece. Just.

The walnut trees at the edge of the wood were still standing. Neil always kept an eye on those. The timber could sell for thousands of pounds. That was another reason why they had to guard the woods from strangers. Rural crime was now major business for miles around.

Somewhere behind him a twig snapped. Neil looked round. Nothing stirred. His heart raced. Was the creature behind him in the shadows? He reached down to pick up a stick. Just as he moved he saw a shape on the track. His heart missed a beat. The stick rose in his hand.

A black animal ran towards him in a spray of leaves. For a split second Neil felt a scream rise in his throat. A voice rang out through the trees.

‘Here, boy!’

The labrador wagged its tail and barked playfully. Neil sighed with relief.

‘Here, boy. Don’t worry, Neil. He’s harmless.’ It was Mr Fenby from The Manor House. He bent down to pat the dog and clipped a lead on its collar. ‘He’s a bit excited. He saw something back there. Something big. I’m pretty sure it was the big cat. It made me panic, I can tell you. We’ll soon flush it out. The hounds will sort it out.’

Mr Fenby was Master of the Hunt. He was a good horseman. He and his wife kept racehorses, although village gossip said she’d just left him.

‘You can’t this week, Mr Fenby. Don’t forget it’s the big shoot.’

Mr Fenby didn’t seem to like being told what he couldn’t do.

‘Shame. I see there are a few trees down, Neil. A nasty storm, eh?’

Neil looked curiously at the bag in Mr Fenby’s hand.

‘Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I’m just getting some breakfast. Don’t worry. I’ve kept to the public path. I haven’t gone into Jeff’s private wood. There are lots of chestnuts and mushrooms this year. Just the job. By the way, how is Jeff these days?’

‘Not too good, I’m afraid. He had a nasty shock last night. Someone hurled a brick through his window. There was a note with some sort of code. Jeff said it might be a car registration number. “JOE L231.” Odd.’

‘There are some strange people about, Neil. But if it said JOE, I bet he knows something about it. He’s got an odd streak, that one. In fact, they don’t come much odder than him!’

Neil was sure Joe was behind all of this; the vandalism in the wood and the brick through Jeff’s window. He felt the anger rising. It was time Joe met his match, and Neil would be the one to sort him out. The stick still in his hand might come in very handy.

There was a lot to be done for the shoot at the weekend. Neil had to phone the beaters, peg out the drives and work on the tractor. The shoot had to be a success. If they had one more bad season, they would have to close. Others were already trying to buy the land.

The sun spilled into the wood and
sparkled in the stream. The bridge lay sprawled on the bank, just as it had fallen when Jeff had his accident. Neil stood by the broken timber. He looked over his shoulder, feeling uneasy. There was a strange feeling around here. He shivered.

Smashed wood lay on both sides of the stream. But the posts were still firm. Two weren’t splintered like the others. They had clean cuts. Someone had sawn through the supports deliberately. Someone who wanted to hurt Jeff. Neil was furious.

But worse was to come. Just ahead of him on the path, Neil glimpsed a sickening sight. The body of a large bird lay limply in a pile of leaves. The red kite was dead. It had been shot. Neil stroked its head and swore. His anger exploded. There was no doubt in his mind: this was Joe’s work. It was time to hit back. Now.

Neil stormed into the kennel yard. Dogs yelped and barked. Joe was cleaning out one of the dog pens.

‘I want a word with you, Linsey.’ Neil waved the stick above his head.

Joe looked up. ‘Keep your hair on, mate. And watch who you’re shouting at or I’ll jump this wall and show you who’s boss round here.’

Neil brought the stick down on the wall with a crack. Blood rose in his cheeks and his eyes flashed with fury.

‘First you smash stuff in our wood. Then you saw through the bridge. You’ve torn up badger setts. Now you’ve shot the kite. You just want to scare us out, don’t you? You want to get rid of us so you can get your hands on our woods.’

Neil was seething with anger. He spat his rage into the wind.

Joe jumped the wall as he hissed. ‘Prove it.’

Neil jabbed the stick at his chest. ‘And you think you can scare Jeff with a brick and a stupid note about Hunter’s Moon. You can’t deny it. Your name was on it.’

Joe grabbed Neil’s collar. ‘Listen, mate. I don’t know what you’re going on about, but I’ll give you ten seconds to get off this land.’

Neil carried on, still shouting. ‘Did you write it in the blood of some animal you killed? And what was it meant to mean, JOE L231? Just more of your mad stuff.’

Joe paused. He let go of Neil’s shirt.

‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘Very interesting.’

A Land Rover pulled up at the end of the drive.

‘Sorry, Neil. I can’t give you the smack in the mouth you deserve. You’ll have to wait. That’s Mr Fenby come to pick me up. Some
of us have to plan for the hunt. It’s a late breakfast up at The Manor House. Let’s face it, mate, I only deal with class. Not scum like you and your cheap pheasant shoot.’ He walked off down the drive. After a few strides he stopped and looked back at Neil.

‘Try a Bible. It’s not JOE, you fool. It’s JOEL. Chapter 2, verse 31. That should make you think!’

He reached the Land Rover, jumped inside and it roared off in a cloud of blue smoke. Neil stood and stared till long after the smoke had cleared.

The church door was unlocked. It was dark inside but Neil found a large Bible near the door. It took him a long time to find the Book of Joel. He slowly read chapter 2, verse 31.

‘The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood.’

For a second time that morning a shiver ran down his spine. Tonight was Hunter’s Moon. Beware Hunter’s Moon. What did it all mean? The church clock clunked. Twelve hollow clangs. Midday. Just twelve hours to go till the Hunter’s Moon would turn to blood. The night of Hallowe’en.

The air was crisp and clear. All afternoon Neil had been cutting up fallen branches with a chainsaw. Now he was ready to light a bonfire. Taking a box of matches from his pocket, he bent down to light the paper. He paused as he remembered the other night when he dropped the whole box. He looked over his shoulder. He was sure he heard a
sound behind him. He got to his feet and grabbed the chainsaw. He listened, waiting, as the moon climbed into the sky and the first stars glinted above him.

Something was moving through the woods, coming nearer. Neil could only see the grey shapes of tree trunks and roosting pheasants. Suddenly he saw a shadow moving towards him through the stillness. A person. A girl with long, dark hair. She was running straight towards him. It was Tanya and she was gasping for breath.

‘I knew you’d be here somewhere,’ she panted. ‘I’m so glad I found you. I need to see you. I’ve got to tell you something. You can put that chainsaw down now. I’m not the panther!’

Neil smiled. ‘Come over here while I light the fire.’

The flames soon flared as the bonfire
crackled to life. Neil poked the branches as sparks showered into the night.

‘Go on, then. What is it you need to tell me?’

‘It’s Joe,’ she said. ‘He’s really ill. I found him this afternoon. He couldn’t stand up. I called the ambulance. He told me to come and tell you. Something about Hunter’s Moon and walnut trees. It didn’t make sense but he said you’d know. He said you must be warned. He said you need to keep watch tonight.’

Neil looked into Tanya’s eyes. She wasn’t acting. This was real. She clung on to his arm. ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s something scary. Joe said he was planning to come up here at midnight to get proof. What did he mean?’

Neil said nothing. He didn’t want to tell Tanya how he hated Joe. But what Tanya
said next took his breath away.

‘You’re probably wondering why I didn’t go with him to hospital.’ She paused. ‘The thing is … I can’t stand him. It’s all an act. You could even call me a spy. I’m doing it for the sabs at college.’

Neil frowned.
What was she saying?

‘You know,’ she went on. ‘The hunt saboteurs. We’re going to film the hunt and get proof that they kill foxes illegally. I agreed to get a bit of inside information by chatting up the kennel boy. He fell for my charms a real treat. I came today to get a few names and addresses of Hunt members. It was horrible to find him lying on the floor, but I still hate all he stands for.’

Neil stared into the flames.

‘Then you must hate me too. I rear birds for people to kill. I bet you anti blood-sport people don’t like that, do you?’

Tanya touched his knee. ‘That’s very different from ripping a fox apart. And besides, you’re really nice.’

Neil watched the firelight dance in her deep brown eyes. He smiled. ‘I’m lost for words. So how about joining me here tonight to see what Joe was so worried about?’

‘Is that your normal chat-up line? I bet the girls always fall for that one!’

Neil blushed. ‘Sorry. It’s just that …’

‘I’m only teasing.’ Tanya pushed him playfully. ‘I think you’re right. I think we should hide in this wood tonight and see just what this is all about. To find the truth once and for all.’