Triskellion (3 page)

As they neared the shop window, Adam pointed back to where they’d left the bikes. “Hey, we don’t have locks for those,” he said.

Rachel laughed. “Relax, we’re not in New York City any more.”

The shop was shut, the interior dark, so they could do nothing but stare at the shocking array of dead things displayed in the butcher’s window. There wasn’t a single piece of raw meat; nothing had been processed or prepared. Instead the animals were strung up, or laid out as if each had been freshly killed. Pigs’ carcasses hung in rows from large hooks, while rabbits had been lined up underneath, as though they were chasing each other across the bright green butcher’s grass. Each strand of fur looked bright enough. Only the eyes were flat and dead.

“You’re right,” Adam said.

Rachel looked at him. “About what?”

“We’re a long way from home.”

“It’s so gross. Oh…”

They stepped back together as a tall figure loomed out of the darkness and moved quickly across a halflit doorway at the rear of the shop. The face was indistinct, but Rachel and Adam had both seen the knife in the man’s hand, and the bloodstains, dark, wet against the white of his apron.

Rachel took a deep breath and put a hand on her brother’s arm. “Well, at least we’re not alone.”

“Why don’t I think that’s such great news?” Adam said.

They moved away from the shop in unison and fell into step. Rachel laughed, leaning playfully into Adam as they walked. “He’s a butcher, right? That’s what butchers look like.”

Adam managed a weak smile. “Only in movies when they have chainsaws and keep heads in the fridge,” he said.

A cloud had begun to slide rapidly across the sun and the line of shadow moved behind them as they went, chasing them along the pavement and catching up with them as they reached the post office a hundred metres further up the street. Inside, it was dimly lit, but at least there was a sign on the door reading
OPEN
.

“We can probably get some candy in here,” Rachel said.

Adam almost barged his sister out of the way. “I’ll take everything they’ve got,” he said. Laughing, they lunged for the door together, only to see a pale hand emerge from the gloom inside and flip the sign over.

CLOSED
.

They turned round and leant back against the door. “Well, there’re definitely people here,” Adam said. “But I’m not sure they’re very friendly.”

Before Rachel could say anything, they heard footsteps along the pavement. They stepped out of the doorway to look, but saw nothing but the flap of a brown jacket, as whoever had been coming towards them veered suddenly down a narrow alleyway. Hearing a low growl they turned the other way and watched as a sleeping dog, that neither had noticed before, roused itself from the gutter and loped quickly away.

“I know it’s been a while since we showered,” Rachel said, “but this is ridiculous…”

It had been a few years since the two of them had walked
anywhere hand in hand, but Adam was happy to feel his sister’s hand slide into his own as they continued to look round the village. They were wary, now. Each of them was ready to protect the other if it came to it, or to grab hold of them and run like hell, if that seemed the cleverer thing to do. They were geared up for whatever else the village had in store for them.

They were prepared for shocks, and though neither of them said anything, each had the feeling that unseen eyes were watching.

As they walked, they continued to catch glimpses of people, to see shadows moving behind closed doors and to hear vague snippets of conversation, as though a giant radio were being tuned in near by. Halfway across the village green they stopped, both convinced that they’d heard the voices of children singing, but the music seemed to have drifted away on the breeze as soon as they’d begun to listen for it.

They stopped at the centre of the green. Worn out suddenly, Rachel sat down heavily, then lay back on the grass. Adam took off his cap and, as he fanned his face with it, he turned slowly round on the spot, taking in the entire village as he did so.

“That’s it,” he said. “I am officially freaked out.”

Rachel stared up at the sky. “Thanks for the update.”

“What about you?” Adam dropped down next to her.

“What about me?”

“You happy about all this? You feeling nice and
chilled out
?”

“Right now, I just want to go to the bathroom,” Rachel said. “I want to get something to eat and I want to go to sleep. I want—”

“I want to get back on that stupid little train.” Adam was suddenly raising his voice, sounding like he had when he was younger and he couldn’t get what he wanted. “I want to get the hell out of here.”

“We can’t,” Rachel said softly.

“Why not?”

She turned over on to her stomach and put her face down. A few metres away, she could see a discarded ice lolly lying on the floor, bright red against the green. It was melting fast as she watched, the scarlet colouring running into the grass, while a bee hovered a centimetre or so above it, dropping down every few seconds to dip its feet into the sugary juice.

Rachel raised her head and shielded her eyes against the sun as she looked round. There was nobody to be seen, anywhere. Who could have dropped the ice cream?

Behind her, her brother spoke, sounding every bit as wiped out as she felt. “It sucks,” he said. He sounded defeated. “This. All of it…”

“It’s just different.” Rachel sat up and tried to catch her brother’s eye. “It’s not what we’re used to. It’s bound to feel strange.”

“Big time.”

“Yeah … like it was so great at home.”

“I know, but at least it was home.”

Rachel thought about that, and though it was nothing more than a simple statement of fact, it hit her hard. She felt as though something were squeezing her insides. “I hope Mom’s OK,” she said.

Then for a while there was only the gentle buzzing of the bee and a distant hum from an aircraft passing high above them. Rachel and Adam sat a few metres away from each other, picking at blades of grass and each of them thinking about the life that, for the moment at least, they’d had to leave a long way behind.

The parents they loved, but who no longer loved each other.

“Race you,” Adam said, suddenly.

“What?”

Adam could sense that Rachel’s mood was darkening, that she was sinking into sadness. It hadn’t been easy, but over many years he’d learned the best ways to snap her out of it at moments like this. He pointed across to the far side of the green. “I’ll race you to that statue, or whatever it is, over there.”

Rachel raised herself up, flapped at an insect in front of her face. “Too hot,” she said.

“Too chicken, more like.”

“Whatever…”

“That’s a shame, ‘cos I was going to give you a head start. I don’t know, maybe twenty-five yards, something like that, but, you know, if you really don’t want to—”

And suddenly Rachel was on her feet and past him.

They were fit, athletic kids, and they tore hard across the green, each as keen on beating the other as they had been since the day they’d first learned to walk, and tussle, and race each other to the refrigerator.

Adam had just about caught Rachel up by the time they’d reached the far side of the green. They argued for a minute or two about who’d won, and tried to catch their breath, before looking up together at the stone monument with the wreaths of faded poppies at its base.

The grey column rose several metres to a cross, with a symbol carved into the stone at its centre. Rachel looked, then turned to her brother.

“I know,” he said. “It’s the same thing we saw at the station. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Rachel stepped forward and read the inscription at the monument’s base.

To remember the men of Triskellion, who fought in two world wars
.

“It’s a war memorial,” Rachel said.

“So where are the names?”

Rachel looked at Adam, then back at the obelisk. There were no names at all carved beneath the inscription. “I guess they’re round the other side.” She walked round the column and stared up, her expression as blank as the granite itself.

“Maybe nobody died from here,” Rachel said. “Maybe this place is a lucky village.”

Adam scoffed. “It’s a
freaky
village,” he said. “Seriously freaky.”

Rachel leant back against one of the wooden benches alongside the memorial. “I’m not so sure,” she said. She could hear a buzzing as she spoke, but couldn’t decide if it was from somewhere close by or inside her head. “I think it just seems that way, you know? Because we’ve never been anywhere like this place before. It just feels strange to us.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“Plus, we haven’t slept properly in God knows how long. Jet lag can make you feel really weird, you know? It can make things seem kind of … blurred, and jumpy. Like a dream.”

“Like a nightmare you mean.”

Wherever it was coming from, the buzzing grew louder suddenly, and they both flinched as a flock of crows rose up suddenly from the trees to the left of them. When they turned, they saw two young men stepping out from behind the war memorial, and coming quickly towards them.

Rachel looked at Adam. His face made it clear that he sensed the danger every bit as much as she did.

The boys were maybe fifteen or sixteen and both were heavily built, with short, spiky haircuts. One wore stonewashed jeans and a grubby T-shirt, while his mate was bare-chested with tattoos of some sort on both upper arms.

“Freaky, are we?” said the one with tattoos.

“That’s not what we meant,” Rachel stammered, but it was clear that the two boys were in no mood to discuss anything.

When Adam tried to speak, all he saw was a fist, like a great lump of meat with gold rings, and then everything went black.

“K
eep your head back,” Rachel said. “It’s almost stopped.”

The wad of tissue, which she’d dug out ten minutes before from her pocket, was soaked in Adam’s blood and both of their tears. His nose had bled so much that Rachel was starting to wonder how there could be any of the stuff left in her brother’s body at all.

She pressed the tissue against his nose. He moaned, but he wasn’t in too much pain, so she was fairly sure there was nothing broken. Adam eased her hand back from his face and gingerly removed the tissue. His eyes darted around. “Are you sure they’ve gone?” he asked, sniffing cautiously.

The two thugs hadn’t run off right away. Once Adam had fallen to the ground, they’d stood around jeering and pointing. Every time Rachel had pleaded with them to leave her and her brother alone, they’d laughed, mocking her by repeating what she’d said in a stupid, fake-American accent.
Once Rachel had stopped trying to reason with them, they’d quickly got bored and wandered off.

“I can’t see them anywhere,” Rachel assured her brother. “It’s going to be all right now.”

Adam nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. For a few minutes the two of them stood in shocked silence, letting what had happened sink in. It was certainly not how either of them had imagined their arrival in England.

“Come on,” Rachel said eventually. “Let’s get out of here.”

They trudged away from the war memorial, and back across the green towards the High Street.

“I want to call Mom,” Adam said.

Rachel nodded. “OK.” She’d been thinking the same thing. They quickened their steps a little, both eager to get back as swiftly as they could to the backpacks, which contained their phones. “That’s if we’ve got a signal.”

“It’ll be morning at home now, right?” Adam said.

“Right. We’re five hours ahead,” Rachel said.

Adam managed a weak smile. His nose, which had already reddened dramatically, was now beginning to swell. “
Ahead?
I think this place is at least a couple of centuries behind, don’t you?”

Gratefully, Rachel seized the chance to laugh and they walked even faster, their sombre mood beginning to lift.

“We’d be having breakfast if we were at home,” Adam said.

“Uh-huh…”

“Waffles and syrup.” Adam said it slowly, groaning with
pleasure at the thought of the food. “Oh, God, blueberry muffins.”

“Pancakes and sausage,” Rachel said.

“Scrambled eggs.”

“French toast and crispy bacon…”

“Look,” Adam said, pointing. “Siesta must be over.”

Rachel looked, seeing what her brother meant as they walked on down the High Street into a different village.

At least, it
appeared
to be a different village from the deserted one they had left just twenty minutes before. People carrying shopping bustled back and forth in front of them and a rusty delivery van pulled up outside the greengrocer’s opposite, which now displayed a stall overflowing with abundant fresh fruit and vegetables. A cheery, suntanned man, carrying an enormous cauliflower, crossed the road walking towards the twins. He saw Rachel standing on the kerb with her mouth open and winked at her.

“Lovely day, miss…”

Rachel closed her mouth and smiled back feebly, and they watched the man stride vigorously away down the busy street, whistling and nodding at his fellow villagers.