Becoming (24 page)

20

The dogs were near, but the wind and rain made it difficult to tell how far. The sound was nearer than either Gaia or Freya wanted to admit. Perhaps the creatures were at the start of the ravine, crossing it, but moving away, following another path through the hills. The route the group had taken was a detour, the terrain tricky. It was not a route you would choose to take, only for a purpose. The group had sought shelter, now the dogs sought them. If the dogs had picked up a scent, if tracks had been found Gaia and the others were in trouble. It would be the end. There would be no escaping the dogs. Gaia, Aran and Freya could put up a strong fight, but it would be futile. The dogs were fierce and could tear someone apart in seconds. The best hope for the group was that they had not been found and this was a coincidence. Gaia and Freya listened, hoping the rain had washed away all traces of scent, all footprints, all indication the group were here. The two of them waited and hoped, cold sweat dripping from their brows.

Neither of them seemed to be breathing, all senses focused on the sound. The danger was smothering them, pressing down like a heavy weight, a poisonous cloud suffocating them. For a moment the barking stopped, and there was nothing but the wind and rain. It started again, louder than ever. Gaia’s heart was pumping, and her mouth was dry. The adrenalin surged through Gaia’s body, a cocktail of fear and anticipation. Freya was still locked in cold sweat, hoping the others would not make a sound. Gaia put her hand on her axe, knowing it was futile, but seeking reassurance through its presence.

The barking faded, still there but more distant. It flared up once again, as the howling wind picked up the waves of sound and tossed them through the night like an ocean storm. It was difficult to judge where the dogs were. Neither Gaia or Freya could be sure how near or far. Gaia was sure they were getting close, could feel it. The young had been programmed to trust their fear and judgement, take no chances, expect the worst and prepare. Gaia’s programming ran through her head. It was instinct now, who she had become. Both girls were ready, like arrows in a bow, pulled back and poised to be unleashed.

The barking ceased, but the two girls did not trust the silence, sure it was a trick of the swirling wind. The sound returned for a moment, but it was fainter, drifting away to the point of silence. The two of them held their breath, strained their ears, but it was gone. Gaia’s heart slowed and the adrenalin eased. They were safe for now, the dogs had moved on. The girls waited awhile before speaking, until they were sure it was safe. Freya touched Gaia’s hand and whispered.

‘That was close. It was the hunters. Must’ve been. They must be crazy looking for us in this weather. Or desperate. Maybe they’re worried. We could be nearer to the others than we think.’

The group were well into the hills, but the area was vast. The note said find the hills and we will find you, but the other community did not know Gaia and the others were coming. There’d been no signal, no advance warning, which made the group so much harder to find. Perhaps the search had alerted the community, perhaps the hunters had been a signal the group were on their way. Gaia and Freya could not be sure. The leaders and the dogs knew where the group were heading and were searching. That gave the hunters a huge advantage. Gaia and Freya now knew the hunters were near, and would close in soon. It was only a question of when. There would be other teams of leaders and dogs searching and time was against the group. The garrote was tightening around the groups’ throats, the screws on their thumbs. Gaia and the others were not caught or dead yet, but they could feel the leather strap gripping their necks and choking. If the community in the hills did not find the group soon, the life would be squeezed from them. Gaia spoke.

‘What now?’

‘We sit it out for the rest of the night, and set off again in the morning. I’d hoped the rain would ease or stop, but it mightn't be a bad thing if it doesn’t. This weather’s better for us than it is them. It covers our trail and makes us harder to track. Get some rest. You’ll need it. It’s going to be a tough day tomorrow. I can feel it. I’ll keep guard.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m positive.’

‘Thanks.’

Gaia touched Freya’s hand again. This was their new communication in darkness. Gaia edged her way through the pitch black to her makeshift bed. She wrapped the blankets around her, and lay against the rucksack. It was hard, lumpy, a lousy pillow, but it was better than the cold, hard surface. Gaia listened to the shuffling of the others. Aran was still restless.

Gaia dreamt that night, the same dream with Kali in the room. The other person was there, Gaia could see their boots. The person was in the corner, their lower half kept coming into view. Gaia still could not place the boots, but the thought of who they belonged to was haunting her. She was poised on the edge of knowing. Somewhere in Gaia’s head she knew, but could not find the answer. Gaia kept willing herself to get up, lunge towards the corner, drag the person from the shadows. Gaia could not move, she was trapped and bound to a chair. Kali was shouting at her, hurling abuse. Kali was unleashing a venom, a tirade of verbal attacks, spitting in Gaia’s face as she bellowed. Gaia focused on the boots, desperate to know who they belonged to, hoping they would step out and reveal themselves. Gaia heard herself calling in her mind,
‘Who are you? Show yourself. I know you. Tell me who you are!’
The person did not step out. They did not speak. They remained in the shadows.

The dream ended, as it always ended. It faded away, dissolved into the pit of Gaia’s sleep. It was always before the person revealed themselves, before Gaia could see their face. When she woke the dream always remained, its presence hanging heavy like a dark cloud for most of the morning. It wrestled with Gaia’s other thoughts, played on her mind. It toyed and teased - the image of Kali, the room, and the boots. There was a feeling of fear, drowning, and hatred, the most intense hatred. There was a feeling of betrayal. Gaia always sensed the betrayal, and was left with its bitter taste.

The morning came, and the wind and rain remained. The group ate, packed up and moved on, wasting no time. Freya headed out first, running down the ravine to check the route ahead, and make sure the dogs had gone. Gaia and Freya did not mention the dogs to the others. There was no need to alarm them any further. The young girls would not understand, Aran knew they were being hunted, it was only a matter of time. The dogs were just detail, and not one to dwell on.

Freya returned. The path was clear. They headed out of the cave and back into the biting weather. Though it was morning the sky was dark, and the cloud was thick and black. There was little sign of it clearing, or the rain easing. The group made their way down the ravine, over the rocks and boulders, slipping on the muddy ground. They reached the narrow path that headed up higher into the hills and forged on. The going was tough, their spirits sapped. Gaia stopped to check on Ruth and Mary, both shivered. The girls were weary, but neither spoke, their eyes lost as ever. Gaia looked at Ruth’s face, as the raindrops trickled down the child’s raw cheeks like tears. Gaia knew they were not tears, but wished they were. Tears were a sign of emotion, feeling, and life. Better the children cried than showed nothing, just stared. The girls had been through so much, and it was better they grieved. All emotion had been crushed and locked away inside the sisters. They had learnt to fear emotion, so buried it, maybe they did not even feel it anymore. The children were alive, but no longer lived.

Gaia and the others trudged on, slipping on the drenched earth, their boots caked in mud. They walked for hours seeing little and no-one. The only solace was each other, the only companion the weather which ebbed and flowed throughout the morning, but never let up. The group crossed some moorland, and struggled up the brow of a hill. The wind and rain were relentless and visibility was poor. The sky remained dark with a thin mist mingling with the moisture of the falling rain. In the distance on the edge of the moorland Gaia spotted something, a structure, but not something natural in shape. As the group neared Gaia saw it was made of wooden planks, stretched horizontal and vertical in the air with a bar across in support making a triangular shape.

They approached the wood structure and could see something hanging from the end of the outstretched horizontal beam. It was hooked to the end, and looked like a head in a metal frame. Gaia drew closer and could see it was not a real head, but a wooden one carved to look like that of a man’s. She stared up at the macabre sight, and spoke.

‘What is it?’

Aran replied without removing his eyes from the head as it twisted and turned in the wind.

‘It’s a gibbet. It’s where they hanged the people they’d executed. They didn’t kill them here, but they’d bring the dead bodies and display them on open moorland like this so people could see them. It was a warning to others. The bodies would rot and be taken away, but they’d leave the skulls in the metal frames as a reminder. They didn’t mess about with criminals in those days.’

Gaia grabbed the girls and hugged them close, turning their heads away from the ghastly sight. Gaia’s mind drifted back to the image of Rebecca hanging from the tree. Her limp, lifeless body swaying in the woods, just the day before. Freya noticed a wooden board at the base of the gibbet. She approached it, wiping it with the sleeve of her jacket, and read the words out to the others.

‘There’s some writing on here. It says, ‘
The body of William Winter was left here following his execution in Newcastle on August 10th, 1792 for the murder of Margaret Crozier. He was executed along with the sisters Jane and Eleanor Clark whose bodies were sent to a surgeon for dissection. William’s body was brought here to Whiskershields Common where it was hung in chains until it was cut down and the bones scattered. It stood as a warning to all of the consequences of their crimes.’

The words chilled Gaia.
The consequences of their crimes.
The others soaked up the words along with the pelting rain. Gaia thought of the year, 1792. She had no idea what year it was now, whether it was a long time ago or not. This was how people dealt with criminals in the days before. Their leaders killed them and hanged their bodies in chains on display. Gaia had been told the ways before were brutal, but this was worse than she imagined. It was primitive, and reminded her of the words in the red book. Those were words of terror and vengeance, clear and unequivocal. You reap what you sow. Gaia turned and addressed the others, the words spluttering through droplets of rain on her lips.

‘1792. How long ago was that?’

Freya began to pace around the gibbet, studying and admiring it. She shouted in reply to Gaia.

‘I’ve no idea. It can’t be that old. It’d rot pretty quickly out here. It’s only made of wood.’

Aran shook himself from a daze, a mixture of exhaustion and fascination at the grim discovery.

‘I don’t think it’s been used for a long time. The board sounds like it was here for information.’

Freya was fascinated, but confused.

‘What? Out here? Who’s going to see anything out in the middle of nowhere?’

Aran shrugged his shoulders.

‘It does seem strange, but why put a sign here? They obviously wanted people to read it.’

Freya continued to pace, circle and study the wooden structure. Gaia was lost, almost in a dream, her words came without thinking.

‘It’s the beauty.’

Freya stopped pacing as Gaia continued.

‘People come here for the beauty. You must have seen it? This whole place is incredible. It’s like Yann said, remember? People messed up the world, but the world is still a beautiful place. The mainland, this part of the world. It’s magical.’

Aran thought about Gaia’s words. He had not looked for beauty on the journey. The primary goal had been survival, watching for predators or threats, and whether the group were being followed. Aran’s mind was always on other things. For Freya beauty was irrelevant. It was a raw, untamed world, a place you treat with caution. You respected nature, or it would take you. There was no room for romance in Freya’s world. It was weakness. Gaia was different. She had thought about Yann’s words. They had touched Gaia, and she had looked for the beauty on the rest of the journey. Even now, staring at the face of death she saw it.

‘Yann saw the beauty in everything. That’s why he always seemed so content, happy. We thought he was in another world, but he wasn’t. He was in this one, but he saw it for what it is, what we can’t see. We’re too busy trying to survive. They’ve taken everything from us, even the beauty in the world, especially the beauty.’

Gaia held the two girls, as Freya sat against the gibbet and closed her eyes, the cold rain spitting against her frozen cheeks. Freya thought about what Gaia had said. Maybe she was right, but Freya had little time for such folly. Nature was heartless. The natural order was about balance. You survive first, then you live. If you were lucky you might get a chance to experience something special. Beauty was a luxury Freya could not afford. Aran surveyed the moorland around them. All of a sudden he stopped and plunged to the ground, crouching low on his knees. Aran hissed at the others.

‘Get down.’

The others fell to the ground. Gaia looked in the direction of Aran’s stare. In the distance, on the furthest visible edge of the darkness and hazy mist Gaia could see a shadowy figure. It was standing still, and appeared to be alone. Gaia moved her stare across the moorland and saw another person step into view. Facing forward, both of the figures were about ten metres apart. Both were just silhouettes, and Gaia could make out little. Her head moved in a panoramic sweep and more shadows appeared. Every ten metres or so there was another figure standing still, watching and waiting. The group were surrounded. Gaia waited, but there was still no movement or sound from the shadows. There were no dogs, just human silhouettes. Freya was crouched by the gibbet, the first of the group to speak, her voice quiet.