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Authors: Shalini Boland

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BOOK: THE CLEARING
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Chapter Twenty Three

Riley

*

My shock turned to pleasure but I realised my mouth was still hanging open like an idiot. I quickly turned my gawp into a smile.

‘Denzil, I don’t believe it! How did you get here? How come . . . I don’t get it.’

‘Hey, mate,’ Luc said, coming around the side of the copter.

‘You weren’t supposed to be looking!’ I said to Luc.

‘What’s going on?’ Charlie called, stepping outside. ‘Is this a friend of yours? That’s not Connor.’

‘It’s okay, Mr Duke,’ I said. ‘We know him.’

Charlie puffed around the side of the copter, his gun in his hand. He had it pointed down at the ground but it was ready to fire.

‘You sure?’ he said. ‘This isn’t part of the plan. I don’t like surprises.’

After grinning like crazy people for a few seconds, Luc and I gave Denzil a huge bear hug. His handsome black face looked exactly the same, minus the split lip he’d had the last time we saw him. The time he’d put himself in danger to save our lives.

Luc laughed. ‘I don’t believe it. This can’t be a coincidence. What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?’

‘Let’s get back inside the copter,’ Charlie said. ‘It’s almost dark now. I don’t like you all standing around out here. Too exposed.’

‘I still need to . . . you know . . . pee,’ I said, grinning and blushing.

‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Luc said.

I did what I had to do without being attacked by wild creatures and then climbed back into the copter.

Denzil was still kitted out in his military gear and I wondered what he’d been up to and how he’d managed to get free of the army.

‘So good to see you,’ Luc said.

‘I almost didn’t recognise you, Riley,’ Denzil said, touching a lock of my hair. ‘Blonde? It looks good, but I preferred your natural colour.’

‘It’s my disguise,’ I smiled.

‘Aah.’ He tilted his head towards the seats behind us and raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That’s Fred and Jessie.’

He leant over his seat. ‘Hi, I’m Denzil.’ They shook hands. ‘Yours are the kids we’re gonna rescue, right?’

‘How do you know that?’ Luc asked. ‘We’re supposed to rendezvous with someone else,’ Luc said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Denzil replied. ‘Connor, right?’

‘How do you . . .’

‘Basically, I wound up at the Uley Perimeter.’

‘Uley?’ Luc and I said together.

‘Yeah. Four of my unit had to go up to Hullavington to pick up some supplies. I made sure my name was on that list. Figured I’d try to get up there and see if any of my family was still in the area. But then I saw Uley was close by and I remembered it’s one of Eddie Donovan’s perimeters.’

‘It is,’ Luc said.

‘My grandparents live there too,’ I said.

‘I know. I been staying with them. Me and your grandad, we get on great. He’s a top geezer.’

On hearing this, I smiled. Back last month, I told Grandma and Grandpa all about Denzil and what he did for us. So I’m sure they must’ve treated him like a king.

‘Anyway,’ Denzil continued. ‘I met Connor up there. He told me about what went on last month. That’s some serious story.’

‘So how did you manage to get away from your unit?’ Luc asked.

‘That part was easy. They’re a dozy bunch. It was having a place to go that was the hard bit. But I’m hoping your offer of becoming a guard is still good.’

‘Course it is,’ Luc said. ‘Of course. We need all the help we can get, with everything that’s going on.’

‘Mental ain’t it,’ Denzil said. ‘That Grey bloke’s not right in the head.’

‘So where’s Connor then?’ Charlie asked.

‘Oh, sorry, Mr Duke,’ Luc said. ‘This is Denzil Porter. Denzil, Charlie Duke. Mr Duke will probably be your boss.’

‘Good to meet you, lad,’ Charlie said, extending a beefy hand over the back of his seat. ‘Now tell us why you’re here and Connor isn’t.’

They shook hands and I felt real joy that this lovely man had finally found his way back to us.

‘We decided it would be better like this,’ Denzil said. ‘And there wasn’t time to let anyone know, cos we were already on the road with no comms. We thought it made more sense for Connor to go into Salisbury first and suss the place out. That way he gets a head start. He can ask a few questions, see if he can find the kids before we get there.’

‘Good plan,’ Luc said.

‘So Connor sent me to meet up with you. Let you know the score. Now I’m here, I can lend a hand.’

‘Yes you can,’ Charlie said. ‘We could certainly use an extra man. Any more like you?’

‘Not where I’m from,’ Denzil said. ‘They’re all a bunch of tossers.’ And then he broke into that loud infectious belly laugh of his and we couldn’t help joining in.

‘I suggest we eat and then Luc and Riley need to get going,’ Charlie said.

‘I’d like to volunteer to go with ‘em,’ Denzil said. ‘If that’s alright, Sir. Make sure they get to the walls safe like.’

Charlie didn’t speak for a moment. It was dark now. Properly dark, and I could hardly make out anyone’s face. We couldn’t turn on the interior light for obvious reasons.

‘That would put my mind at ease,’ Charlie finally said. ‘I didn’t like the thought of these two going to that place on their own. But my orders were to stay with our two ‘guests’.’

‘We can take care of ourselves, Mr Duke,’ Luc said. But there was no anger in his voice.

‘I know you can, Lucas. I just said I’d feel more at ease knowing you had another person with you.’

‘Yeah. Me too,’ Luc admitted. ‘Denzil’s a good man to have around.’

Reaching under the seat, I fumbled about for my rucksack and heaved it onto my lap. I undid the top zip, grabbed my torch and shone it into the bag.

‘Bread and cheese alright for everyone?’ I asked.

There were murmurs of agreement so I broke off hunks of the crusty bread and handed it out along with thick slices of hard cheese. Then I brushed the crumbs off my lap, switched off the torch and popped a piece of bread into my mouth.

‘How long will it take us to get there?’ I asked with my mouth full.

‘It’s just under an hour on foot,’ Denzil said. ‘Connor showed me which entrance to watch. We’ve got to wait for his signal. If he doesn’t manage it, we’ll have to think of something else.’

‘No,’ Charlie said.

‘What?’ I said.

‘No thinking of anything else. Your Pa was very clear. Connor lets you in, or you turn around and come straight back. You do it stealthy or not at all.’

‘Johnny Culpepper gave me his word that he would get my kids out of there,’ Fred said from the back.

‘I don’t care who told you what,’ Charlie replied. ‘I have my orders and that’s what we’re doing. No one said nothing about any other plans. There’ll be no improvising, d’you hear me?’

‘Them’s our children in there,’ Fred said.

‘Yes. And Luc and Riley will try and get them for you. Let’s not worry about anything else for now. We stick to the plan and that’s that.’

Luc took my hand and I felt instantly confused. Was this just a friendly gesture, meant to reassure me? His fingers were warm. Mine were freezing. Whatever his reasons, his touch gave me confidence in what we were about to do. And I realised I wasn’t in this alone.

As we had headed further into this journey, rescuing FJ and Lissy became more and more important to me. It made me feel closer to my sister somehow. As though rescuing them was a way of bringing a small part of her back again.

Stupid, I know.

I wondered if we would succeed this time. Last time we’d tried it had been a disaster.

‘You will do your best though, won’t you?’ Jessie asked, her voice small and pleading.

‘Of course,’ I said.

‘It’s just . . . they’re my babies.’ Her voice was breaking.

‘If it all goes well, we’ll be back by morning and you can go home with your children,’ Luc said.

‘Sounds like a wonderful dream,’ Jess said.

‘Might take a bit longer than that,’ Denzil said.

‘I’ll give you seventy two hours and then I want you back, kids or no kids,’ Charlie said.

‘You ready?’ Denzil asked. ‘Don’t want to miss our opportunity.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, but the word came out too quietly for anyone to hear. ‘Yep,’ I said, too loudly this time.

‘And don’t forget,’ Denzil said, ‘this is all Grey’s territory. He catches us and we could have a lot of explaining to do. So, nice and quiet.’

I nodded.

‘Good luck,’ Charlie said.

Fred and Jessie echoed his words.

‘Let’s go.’ Denzil slid out of the Panther without a sound.

I climbed down after him, landing with a thud on the rustling grass. As I swung my rucksack up onto my back, Luc followed me out and closed the door behind him with a dull clunk.

The night air felt cool and damp and I was suddenly aware of my heart beating.

Denzil pointed to our right and took off at a jog into the pitch black. I hoped my fitness would be good enough to keep up and that my eyesight would adjust to the moonless night. But with Denzil ahead and Luc behind, I was sure it would be okay.

I wasn’t even going to think about wolves.

Chapter Twenty Four

Liss

*

 In the days following James Grey’s injury, there were no lessons or chores. Every waking hour consisted of prayers. From dawn to dusk, Grey’s disciples stayed on their knees fervently begging the Lord to spare their Father.

But Lissy could not bring herself to pray for a man she suspected of being evil. Instead, as she knelt, her muscles cramping, she used the time to let her mind wander through her past. To remember who she was and what she had lost. She realised that she had almost accepted her life here. That she had become comfortable. But that would not do. Something had to change. If she did nothing, she would end up dying here, either executed for treason or withering away from old age. And Liss didn’t know which would be worse.

She was disappointed to discover that the mass-prayers did their work and soon the cathedral bells pealed in celebration of Grey’s recovery. She would probably go to hell for her unchristian thoughts, but Liss concluded that if Grey’s version of Christianity was the right one, then she would go to hell anyway because in her mind she’d rebelled against just about every rule he had.

Even though James Grey survived the attack, there was a serious after-effect – their Holy Father had lost his voice. None of his followers were told how it had disappeared, merely that he could now only speak in a low whisper and sometimes not at all. Despite his new-found silence, he still wished to celebrate the miracle of his recovery, and so Grey called his disciples to rejoice with him at the cathedral.

At the allotted time, Liss joined the other group leaders as they and their children made their way through The Close to the cathedral.

The route was very familiar to her now, despite the fact that it had changed so rapidly and drastically over the years as more lost souls joined Grey’s Church. Hundreds of new dwelling houses had been erected, as well as places of work and study. There were fewer trees and hardly any large green spaces that she knew of within The Close, other than the area immediately in front of the cathedral.

Liss waited her turn on the green before leading her girls into the massive building. They were one of the first groups in and reluctantly she led them down the aisle to a row of seats near the front on the left. If she could have chosen, she would have sat as far toward the back as she could. But it wasn’t her choice. They were always instructed to fill the front seats first. She ushered her girls along their row and sat at the end on the aisle seat, waiting for James Grey to make his appearance.

She would never get used to seeing him. Would never be able to master her fear and revulsion whenever he stepped up onto the platform. As she waited, her armpits prickled with sweat and her stomach gurgled.

Although she did not believe he was their ‘Father’, she still had the superstitious thought that he was in some way more powerful than a mere human. That he could somehow read her mind or see into her soul. Although common sense told her this was nonsense. If he could do that, she would have been hauled up on the stage with Chloe all those years ago.

The cathedral was awash with anticipation. A fevered silence which made Liss want to scream. She could do it. She could stand up and scream her lungs out. See how loud and echoing her voice could really be. She wouldn’t be the first to do so. It had happened at least twice before. But she knew she wouldn’t. She would sit still and quiet and bide her time. Wait for a good opportunity to escape. The right moment would come along soon. Now that she was ready for it. It had to.

And suddenly everyone was rising to their feet. James Grey was about to walk out and greet them. Liss had another odd thought - What if everyone felt the same way she did? What if every single person in this cathedral wanted to escape, but they were just too scared to do it? The thought made her want to laugh, but she smoothed the smile from her face and studied the platform instead. Here he was.

Rather than coming out alone as he usually did, this time he was accompanied by a young man, a boy really, dressed similarly to Grey in a dark robe with a crimson trim. He must be a highly favoured disciple to be dressed in such a way. They stood side-by-side at the pulpit, almost identical in height, but it was the disciple who stood in front of the microphone, not Grey.

Liss realised that this boy was as beautiful as Grey was not. He had broad shoulders and good posture, flawless features, clear skin and shining eyes. It really did seem as though he were filled with the light of the Lord. Grey touched him on the shoulder and the boy began to speak:

‘I am humbled to stand before you all today alongside our glorious Father.’ His voice was warm and soft with a slight tremor. ‘For he has charged me with an important task here in our church.’ The boy’s voice grew stronger as his nerves faded. ‘Many of you will know me only as ‘Matthew’, but from this day forward, my name is forgotten. From this day I shall only be known as ‘The Voice of the Father’.’

So this was Grey’s favoured disciple, Matthew. She agreed with the rumours – he truly did have the face of an angel. His eyes roamed across the congregation and his gaze seemed to hover for a moment over Liss’s face. But she must have imagined it, for why should he look at her? This boy who was to speak for James Grey.

Although his voice was beautiful, Liss did not like his words. They chilled her.

Grey leant in close to the boy and whispered something to him. As he did so Liss had a strange sense of recognition. Something about the way the boy tilted his head to listen. But it couldn’t be. That would be crazy. That would be impossible. Wouldn’t it?

But just as she told herself it
was
not,
could
not be true, she knew in her heart that it was. This ‘Matthew’, this ‘Voice of the Father’ who seemed so confident and had the ear of James Grey himself. This boy was her brother. It was FJ.

Liss stared hard at his face. There was no mistaking him. In fact she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognised him straight away. As she stared harder, his features blurred in front of her eyes. They tilted to the side and then a rushing noise filled her ears. Liss fainted.

 

She was comfortable and warm, wrapped in a cocoon of soft sheets and blankets. It must be a dream. She didn’t want to open her eyes, for if she did, the dream would end and she would be back in her narrow bed with its itchy blanket. She opened them anyway.

Not a dream.

The room in which she found herself was dimly lit and wasn’t a place she had ever been before. Liss sat up. Where was she? The bed was huge and she lay under a heavy embroidered coverlet, plump white pillows at her back. Thick curtains covered the windows, a faint light washing in at their edges.

This room was beautiful and homely, probably the same size as her dormitory, but it contained only this one bed. An armchair sat by the window and there was also a sofa and a low table. Liss didn’t think she’d seen a sofa since she’d been at The Close. Even the word ‘sofa’ sounded strange in her brain. It was a word from another lifetime.

A clear glass of water stood on the nightstand. A glass! That was another thing she hadn’t seen for years. Here, they all drank out of tin or pottery cups. She reached across and picked it up. It felt smooth and cool. Grown up. Back when she lived on the farm she wasn’t supposed to use the glasses in case she broke one, but her parents always drank from them. She took a delicate sip. It was the most delicious drink of water she had ever tasted. Like drinking cool fresh air. She drained the glass and set it back down.

Then she remembered what she had seen. Or rather
who
she had seen. FJ. Matthew was FJ. That couldn’t be true. And then she had blacked out. Fainted. And now she was here. Wherever
here
was.

Liss gave a start as the door creaked open and someone walked in.

‘Hello, Miss.’

It was a girl. And she had called her ‘Miss’. Nobody called anybody ‘Miss’ in The Close. They were only to use first names. It was one of Grey’s rules. They were all supposed to be equal in the eyes of God. Well just because they all used first names, didn’t mean they all acted as equals. Liss realised the girl was nervous of her.

‘Hello,’ Liss replied. ‘Could you tell me where I am please?’

‘Yes, Miss. You’re in the North Canonry.’

The girl came over to the nightstand and refilled the glass with fresh water. Then she bobbed a little curtsey.

The North Canonry? Wasn’t that where Grey lived? But that couldn’t be right. She couldn’t be in James Grey’s living quarters. Could she?

‘Sorry, did you said the North Canonry?’ Liss asked.

‘I better tell Sir you’re awake,’ the girl replied, ignoring Liss’s question. ‘He said to inform him the second you woke up.’ She scuttled out of the room.

Liss grew even more anxious. Why was she here? Was she in trouble for fainting? Was Grey going to come in here next? The thought terrified her. And what about her girls? She had left them in the cathedral. They wouldn’t know where to go without her to lead them back.

And FJ . . . Had it really been him? Or had she imagined it? Maybe she had dreamt him after she collapsed. But it felt more like a memory than a dream. It was so sharp and fresh. His face; the way it had drawn her in as always. It had to have been her brother. And he was . . .

‘Hello.’

Liss snapped her head up and stared at the figure at the foot of her bed. He was still dressed in his robes and appeared taller and broader close up. But there was no mistaking that this was her brother.

‘FJ,’ she whispered. ‘Is it really you?’

BOOK: THE CLEARING
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