‘What? You mean like tell you any bad stuff I’ve done?’
‘Not me. But yes. Anything you are ashamed of, you must tell The Listeners.’
‘The who?’ Jamie was getting a bad feeling. The freaking Listeners! Who the hell were they? This was major cult territory and he was starting to get the heebie jeebies.
John’s voice suddenly lost its impersonal tone and softened for a moment: ‘I know it sounds strange,’ he said. ‘But we’ve all done things we’re ashamed of, and by getting them off your chest, you’ll feel lighter and freer. You’ll sleep like a baby and wish you’d done it sooner.’ He looked directly into Jamie’s eyes. ‘I promise you, you’ll be glad you did it.’
‘Is that all I have to do?’ Jamie replied. ‘Just tell them what I’ve done? What if I’ve done really bad stuff? Won’t they lock me up?’
‘Believe me,’ John said, ‘there is nothing you can say about your past that will make them punish you for it. Just confess and you’ll be fine.’
‘They’re not going to want my blood or anything weird like that are they?’
‘Whatever you’ve heard about this place, forget it,’ John said. ‘Nothing untoward is going to happen. Just a simple confession is needed, that’s all.’
‘I can do that,’ Jamie said. But he felt nervous nonetheless. Would he really have the courage to tell these people what he’d done? That he’d killed someone. But wasn’t this what he had prayed for? A way to lessen his guilt and a chance for a decent night’s sleep, free from the terrors. ‘Who are these Listeners anyway?’
‘They are Our Father’s disciples. They will listen and not judge.’
‘Why can’t I just tell God about my sins? Why do I have to tell people? If they won’t do anything about it, what’s the point?’
‘It doesn’t work like that. You have to speak your sins out loud to someone who is actively listening. It’s the only way for you to move forward here.’
‘Right. Okay.’
‘Are you ready? Or do you need time to think about what you want to say?’
‘I’m ready.’ Jamie felt his heartbeat quicken. He must be mad.
‘Come,’ John said and walked out of the room. He held the door open so Jamie could walk through more easily with his crutches.
Jamie’s mind raced. Should he lie or should he confess it all? He couldn’t make up his mind. On the one hand, it could put him in danger to tell anyone what he’d done, but on the other hand, wasn’t this why he had come here in the first place – to wash that girl’s image from his mind. But what if they turned him over to the army and he had to face the girl’s family? What if they executed him here and now? He could go ahead and confess and everything and they might shoot him on the spot. Clammy and slick with sweat, Jamie’s hands slid on the crutch handles. He had to stop to wipe his palms on his trousers.
John didn’t have to walk very far along the landing. He opened the next-door-but-one and gestured to Jamie to enter. Jamie felt panicked. He still hadn’t made up his mind what to do. He tried to catch John’s eyes to glean any kind of clue or sign from his expression, but the man’s eyes were cast firmly down on the floor. This was all happening too quickly. Jamie took a steadying breath and walked into the room. The door closed behind him.
Chapter Thirteen
Riley
The truck felt lighter on the drive back home without its illicit load. Or maybe it was me who felt lighter. I had done it. I had made Lou’s life a little easier and it felt good. The gypsies were decent people. They had always seemed so fierce and terrifying to me, but I now came to the conclusion they were basically the same as us. The only difference was that they lived in a harsher environment. They had to be more on their guard, less trusting. They had no perimeter fence to keep them safe.
The sun did a good job of cheering up the barren landscape, the sky now a clear cornflower blue. The truck had a stereo, so I pressed play in the hope someone had left a CD in the slot. A woman’s voice filled the cab. I recognised the song: Shake it Out by Florence and the Machine. Ma had this album. I wondered where the singer was now. Did she survive the country’s collapse sixteen years ago? Was she still singing somewhere? I decided to drive straight back to the stores, return the truck and head home. Hopefully no one would notice I’d been gone.
Far in the distance, the perimeter fence glinted up ahead and I felt a sweep of apprehension. In fact I felt more nervous returning home than I had when I approached the gypsy camp. If the perimeter guards found out I’d taken the timber without permission, I would be in so much trouble. Pa would go ballistic. Nothing I could do about it now.
I focused my attention back to the bumpy scrubland. A pack of dogs came into view and I had to adjust my course to avoid them. There must have been about thirty or forty, all skinny and mangy, different shapes and sizes, heads low, tongues lolling. A couple bared their fangs at the truck, but the majority seemed to be distracted by something else. Probably fighting over a rabbit or, if they were lucky, a deer. It looked like the appearance of my truck had interrupted them. I slowed and squinted into their midst, not really wanting to see in case it was some gruesome carcass. But then I caught a glimpse and slammed my foot hard on the brake.
I turned off the music and slowed the truck, cracking the window open a little. The dogs were growling and snarling and it was hard to see through the dense pack, but I was pretty sure I’d seen a person crouching on the ground. A sudden scream tore through the air. That was definitely a human sound.
I kept hearing Pa’s voice in my head: ‘Never stop on the road, not for anything’, but I ignored it, wound down my window fully and fired my Magnum into the sky, feeling the sharp recoil in my arm. The deafening shot echoed around the landscape and spooked the dogs momentarily. They sprang away just enough so I could get a clear view of what had got them so excited – two figures huddled together on the ground – girls. One of them had a bag held out in front of her, like a shield. The gun had startled them too, and they scrambled to their feet in a daze, stumbling backwards. They were headed away from me, but the dogs had recovered themselves and had begun to stalk them.
I drove hard at the pack, trying to scatter them. Up ahead the girls were losing ground. Bundled in thick coats, their movements were awkward and panicked. One of the smaller dogs – a white grey creature with prominent ribs – leapt and went for one of the girls’ arms. She was knocked off balance and crashed face down onto the ground. The other girl stopped and tried to help by kicking at the dog, but then the pack descended. I rammed my hand down on the horn and drove into the creatures, not caring about the yelps and crunches as the wheels rolled over those who weren’t quick enough.
I worried that the girls had been seriously hurt, but they lurched to their feet again, glancing from the truck to the dogs in panic. Most of the dogs backed away as I drew closer, snarling and yipping, but the white grey was more persistent. Flanked by a couple of larger dogs, it growled and snapped at its prey. One of the girls thrust her backpack out in front of her again, for protection, her dark blonde hair shining in the sunlight. Her eyes locked onto mine and my heart skipped a beat.
I recognised that face.
It was Liss, FJ’s sister! But she looked terrible – pale and gaunt. I then realised that the other girl was Annabelle, her friend. What the hell were they doing out here alone?
I revved my engine once more, edging closer. I had to get the dogs to disperse, but they weren’t as scared of my truck as I’d hoped. Hunger was making them brave. The grey mutt prepared to attack again, crouching, its ears flattened to the side of its head. I stopped the truck, leaned out, aimed and fired. I love dogs, but these were starving and ready to kill. My aim was true and the bullet sank into the creature’s head. Its companions yelped and then, with only a moment’s pause, they fell upon the dead creature, tearing it to pieces.
The girls, making the most of this distraction, turned and ran. But unfortunately they were running away from my truck. I leant out
of the window and yelled.
‘Liss! Annabelle! It’s me, Riley!’ They kept on running so I drove after them as fast as I could, bumping around in the cab as the wheels jolted over ruts and dips. I quickly overtook the girls and swung the truck to a halt across their path. But they swerved out of my way and continued to head away from me in a blind panic.
‘Liss!’ I called.
She stopped, turned and narrowed her eyes at the truck windscreen. Perhaps she didn’t recognise me. When she’d first met me I’d had dyed blonde hair, but now it was back to my usual brown. I glanced in the rearview – the pack was a few hundred yards away making short work of the dead dog and snarling over the scraps, so I stepped out of the truck, my revolver lowered at my side.
‘Liss, Annabelle, it’s me,’ I said. ‘Riley.’ I glanced at the dogs again, paranoid they would strip the carcass and make me their next target.
‘Riley?’ Annabelle called back in a cautious half-shout half-whisper.
‘You okay?’ I asked. Annabelle’s dark curls had been scraped back into a ponytail, her pale freckled face smeared with dirt. Liss’s mousy hair had been cut into a short bob, making her appear even younger than her friend. They both looked exhausted and terrified, their eyes sunk deep in their sockets, their breaths jagged and harsh.
‘It is you,’ Liss said, her eyes still wide with terror. ‘Thank goodness. I thought we were going to be ripped to pieces back there. Then when we saw the truck we didn’t know what to think.’
The girls walked carefully toward me, their eyes constantly flicking back and forth to the dogs on their right.
‘Riley,’ Annabelle said again, relief on her face.
‘Did they hurt you?’ I asked. ‘The dogs? Did you get bitten?’
‘Only my wrist,’ Annabelle said. ‘But I don’t think the skin’s broken.’ She pulled the ripped sleeve of her coat back, examining her pale forearm.
‘I’m alright,’ Liss said, still panting. ‘Just got scared, that’s all.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ I said. ‘Quick, get in the truck.’ They followed me into the cab and I locked the doors and restarted the engine, relieved to be safely inside.
‘Thank you,’ Liss said. ‘I can usually handle dogs okay. But that pack was starving, desperate.’
‘And there were so many of them,’ Annabelle said.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘They’re always around, but I’ve never seen them so vicious before. What are you doing out here anyway? It’s not safe; especially not on foot.’
‘It’s a long story,’ Annabelle replied.
‘Well, wherever you’re headed, you’re coming back with me first for some decent food and somewhere safe to stay the night.’
The perimeter entrance loomed large up ahead.
‘Let’s get inside,’ I said. ‘Then you can tell me everything. There’s water if you’re thirsty.’ I pointed to the floor where my bag lay. Annabelle reached down and pulled out my flask. ‘Finish it,’ I said. They took turns gulping down the liquid.
As I approached the gates, they began to swing slowly open. Liam stood outside the guards’ hut and nodded as the truck rolled past. I briefly debated stopping to tell him about the girls, but then I figured it would be less complicated if I could get in without explanations. So I gave him a wave and kept going.
So far so good. Liam let me drive straight though, opening up the inner gate set into newly constructed brick wall. The fact that I got in so easily threw up some questions about internal security though. If it was that simple for me to take supplies out and bring people in, then we needed to upgrade the system. I hoped that it had been easy for me because of who I was; because no-one would question Johnny Culpepper’s daughter.
The girls were silent as we drove along empty roads and within minutes we were on Leven Avenue, the perimeter stores directly in front of us. I hoped it was still Denzil on duty and not Roger Brennan or Charlie Duke, who wouldn’t be quite as easy going. I pulled up and slid out of the cab.
‘Wait in the truck,’ I said to the girls before walking up to the gates.
‘Hello,’ I called out.
‘Hey,’ Denzil said stepping up to the gates. ‘Jump back in, I’ll get the gates.’ He glanced up at the truck and did a double take. ‘Is that . . .’
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘Liss and Anna. I found them wandering around outside. A pack of dogs were eying them up for lunch.’
‘Hang on,’ Denzil said. He went into the hut and a moment later one of the gates began to creak open. Then he reappeared and walked out through the gate, stepping up to the cab. ‘You girls okay?’
They nodded. ‘Hello, Denzil,’ Annabelle said.
‘What you doing down this neck of the woods?’ he replied. ‘Where’s your mum and dad, Liss?’
She didn’t say anything.
I pulled at Denzil’s sleeve and ushered him over to the side. ‘I think something bad must’ve happened,’ I said. ‘They haven’t said anything yet, but I’m going to take them home and hopefully they’ll tell me what’s going on.’
‘Where’s your dad?’ Denzil asked me. ‘Does he know they’re here?’
‘Not yet. I’ll tell him when I get home.’
‘Thought he was out with you,’ Denzil said, his brow creasing.
‘Yeah, we had a change of plans.’
He gave me a sharp look. ‘I’m not about to get a bollocking am I, Riley? That load of firewood was legit wasn’t it?’
‘What? Yeah, course it was. You’ve got Pa’s req order, haven’t you.’
Denzil nodded slowly, a doubtful expression clouding his features. ‘Right, bring her back inside then.’ He walked into the hut without saying goodbye. I could tell he wasn’t happy with me and I couldn’t really blame him. I only hoped he wouldn’t rat me out to Pa.
I did as he asked and drove the truck through the gates and back round to the vehicle depot. No one there said anything untoward and so I signed the form and left, Liss and Annabelle walking in a daze by my side. When I waved at Denzil on my way out, he looked up through the window and waved back, but he didn’t smile.
Fifteen minutes later, I was walking in through my front door with Liss and Annabelle. They’d been quiet on the walk back home and I hadn’t pressed them for information. I figured they needed a while to recover from the dog attack and whatever else it was that had brought them all the way down to the south coast. Anyway, it would be best if Pa was here when they told their story.
Ma came out of the kitchen, a worried look on her face. ‘Riley, where have you been, and who’s this?’
‘Er, just had some stuff to do. This is Liss and this is Annabelle.’ The girls hung back and I ushered them forwards. ‘This is my mother,’ I said.
‘Hello, I’m Eleanor. You girls look exhausted. Are you hungry? Would you like to get cleaned up and I’ll make you some porridge?’
They didn’t reply.
‘I’ll show you up to my room,’ I said. ‘You can have a warm shower and come back down for something to eat if you like.’
Once I’d shown them the shower and laid out some of my clothes for them to change into, I came back down. Ma had already fetched Pa and they were sitting in the kitchen.
‘Where’ve you been, Riley?’ Pa asked.
‘I left my bag at Lou’s yesterday. So I nipped back to get it and ran into Liss and Annabelle on the way home.’
‘The Walls isn’t somewhere you ‘nip’ to without telling anyone,’ Pa said. ‘Especially not at the moment with all that’s going on at the compound.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Nothing happened.’
‘Not to mention the waste of fuel,’ he continued. ‘I don’t want you going out alone anymore. Not at the moment anyway.’
‘Okay,’ I said, eager to change the subject. ‘So I wonder what’s going on with Liss and Anna.’
‘Didn’t you ask them?’ Pa said.
‘Yeah, but they said it was a long story, so I figured I’d let them get cl
eaned up first.’
‘What about Fred and Jessie?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘The girls were out there alone on foot, not far from the fence. A pack of dogs was attacking them.’
Pa exhaled and stood up, rubbing his chin. ‘Dogs?’
‘Yeah. We scared them off though.’
‘Good. Those dogs are getting cheekier by the minute.’
‘They were more than cheeky.’
‘Might have to do something about them.’
‘Liss and Anna can stay with us, can’t they Pa?’ I asked.
‘We’ll see,’ Pa replied.
‘I’ll make them some porridge,’ Ma said, walking over to the pan cupboard.
‘Something’s not right about all this,’ Pa said. ‘We need to find out exactly what it is those girls are doing here.’
Chapter Fourteen
Jamie
The room lay in semi-darkness. Black curtains had been drawn across two windows, but still a thin film of sunlight managed to creep inside. Before him, two figures sat unmoving, dressed in dark, hooded robes. Jamie’s eyes flicked to an empty wooden chair in the centre of the room. He guessed that was meant for him. Jamie stood, indecisive for a moment, and then he came forward and sat in the chair, laying his crutches beside him. They clattered down onto the floor and his chair leg scraped as he sat. The silence soon settled back around him and he became aware of his own rasping breath.
Was he supposed to say something? Was he simply supposed to begin listing out his sins for these ‘Listener’ people? Sweat trickled down his forehead and a droplet landed on his top lip. He wiped it away and blinked several times. Suddenly, a loud continuous hiss flooded the room, like a relentless wind or fast running water. Then, over the top of the hiss, came voices:
‘Speak, we are listening.’
Whoa, Jamie thought, almost jumping out of his skin in fright. What the . . . The words had seemed to come from the room itself, not from the men in front of him. The blend of voices had been deep and otherworldly, like God himself had spoken. Jamie quickly realised they must be using some kind of loudspeaker; that would explain the hissing sound he’d heard a second ago. He glanced around the room, but even if there were any to be found, there wasn’t enough light for him to spot them.