Read Blood Harvest Online

Authors: S. J. Bolton

Blood Harvest (26 page)

BOOK: Blood Harvest
12.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘We should get on,’ said Evi. ‘I’m fine now. And we haven’t even seen the Fletchers yet.’

‘Hang on a sec. While I have your full attention, there’s something else you should know.’

A loud bang made them both jump. A shower of gold shot into the air over Evi’s head and disappeared into ever-thickening cloud. The ruined walls of the old abbey stood out sharply against the brief flash of light. They looked strangely empty without the bone men, although one of them seemed to have been left behind.

Harry dropped his eyes to look directly at Evi. ‘I bumped into Gillian today,’ he said.

As predicted, Evi’s face stiffened. She opened her mouth and he held up one hand to stop her. ‘I know you’re not allowed to talk about her,’ he said, ‘but there’s nothing to stop me from doing it, so just listen.’

Yes, there was definitely still one of the bone men left in the ruin, he could see a figure in the window of the tower. He had to concentrate, this was important. He made himself look down at Evi, not too difficult really. ‘She was in the grounds of her old house, close to hysterical,’ he said. ‘Clutching one of her daughter’s toys. I had to drive her home, but she was barely functioning. Her mother arrived after a few minutes, which was—’

‘Her mother?’

‘Yes. I only met her today. She was quite happy to take over, so I left. But the thing is, we all thought Gillian was getting better. People say she’s improved enormously over the last few weeks, pretty much since she’s been seeing you, but today I was worried. She talks about her daughter in a way that doesn’t seem normal. She said the girl was haunting her. She wanted me to carry out an exorcism.’

Evi was looking at the bench. He couldn’t see her eyes. Another firework hit the sky. He’d been mistaken about the figure. The tower window was empty.

‘I just thought you should know,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ said Evi, to the bench.

Harry took a deep breath. ‘And also,’ he said, ‘I hope it goes without saying that even if she weren’t seriously emotionally damaged and obviously in need of ongoing professional help, that never in a million years would I even consider … do I really need to say it?’

‘No,’ whispered Evi.

‘Thank you.’

‘But …’ She looked up.

‘Why is there always a but?’ asked Harry, wondering if holding hands might count as unprofessional.

‘Let’s just say, hypothetically, that I could see a potential conflict of interest in my treatment of a patient,’ said Evi. ‘The correct procedure would be to find a colleague suitable to take over the case. But that can’t always happen instantly. And the wishes of the patient have to be taken into account. They may not want to be referred. And as long as someone remains my patient, his or her interests have to remain my priority.’

‘Understood.’ Harry stood up and held out his hand to Evi. She took it, rose to her feet and then took his arm again. They crossed the now empty street and turned into Wite Lane.

The bone men were in a circle around the bonfire, being held upright by people who were dressed in black with black paint on their faces. ‘It’s just face paint,’ Tom’s mum kept saying to no one in particular. ‘Look, that’s Mr Marsden from the paper shop.’ Tom knew his mother meant well but she was wasting her breath. He knew they were people dressed in black. But when they kept to
the shadows they could hardly be seen at all. As they’d walked past the family just minutes earlier, it had almost looked as if the bone men were moving by themselves. Now they were standing around the fire, bone men at the front, shadow men standing behind them. Then, forming another circle some distance back were people from the town. Tom and his family had stayed behind in the lane. Joe was still on his dad’s shoulders and Tom was on the wall, just behind his mum, who was starting to mutter about how long the rain was going to hold off. He could see easily over the heads of the crowd to the circle of bone men and the fire in the middle. It really was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.

It was hard, taking his eyes away even for a second, but he had to keep looking round. She was here somewhere, he knew it. She wouldn’t miss this.

As Harry and Evi crossed the street a bicycle ridden by a boy dressed all in black and with a black face came speeding past them. Sparklers blazed from the handlebars. He glared at Harry, before speeding away down the hill.

‘Friend of yours?’ asked Evi

‘Hardly,’ Harry replied. ‘That’s Tom Fletcher’s number-one enemy, a boy called Jake Knowles. I got him in trouble the day I arrived here. He’s never forgiven me. And he’s the prime suspect in the Millie-on-the-church-gallery debacle.’ Harry thought for a second. Had Jake Knowles been responsible for the effigy of Millie in the church? It was disturbed behaviour, even by the standards of a delinquent schoolboy.

‘I think he’s one of the boys who scared Duchess the day I fell off,’ said Evi. ‘I recognized the bike.’

‘Figures.’

There were no streetlights in Wite Lane. Torches, old-fashioned ones with real flames, had been fastened to walls and fences to light the way. Harry could smell the kerosene as they walked past. As the cobbles gave way to weeds, Evi stumbled and fell against Harry.

‘You know, I’m sure it would be easier for you if I put my arm around your waist,’ he offered.

‘Nice try, Vicar. I need a few drinks before that one will work.’

‘I thought you didn’t drink.’

She had a little smile on her face like a cat. ‘I said I’m not supposed to. I never said I didn’t.’

Harry laughed. ‘Finally, my day is starting to pick up.’

No sign of her so far, but Tom knew she’d be extra careful with all these people around. She’d be in the shadows somewhere, behind a wall, maybe on a low roof. Looking through the camera lens made it easier for him to search. There was less chance of being distracted and no one could tell that he was doing anything other than waiting for good photographs. He was still on the wall. How people could stand closer to the fire than he was, Tom had no idea. Its heat on his face was just about tolerable, but the crowd in the field were only yards away from the blaze. Then there were the shadow men, closer still, and then – although he didn’t suppose they would mind the heat – the bone men themselves. What were they waiting for? Harry and Evi had joined them and they were all just standing, waiting.

Harry was beginning to understand what Evi meant about a sense of expectation. He could see it in the faces of those around him, like people in a sale queue, waiting for the shop doors to open. They were trying to talk to their neighbours, making an effort to look unconcerned, but their eyes kept flicking to the grim circle in the field – who must surely be about to burn up, they were standing so close to the fire. In fact, they seemed even closer than when he and Evi had arrived, as though the fire was drawing them in. A sudden movement to his right caught his attention. He turned. Gillian was standing three yards away, very close to the gate of her old house, staring directly at him. She was wearing his coat.

The bone men were drawing closer to the fire. Tom had been watching them, he’d even let the camera fall loose around his neck. very slowly, the people holding them were taking small steps forward. How could they? How could they stand the heat? The noise of the crowd was dying down as well. One by one, it seemed, people were falling silent and turning to watch the bone men move steadily closer to the flames.

*

‘Harry, listen to me.’

Evi was talking to him, in a low voice that he struggled to hear above the roar of the fire. He tore his gaze away and bent lower.

‘I’m not happy,’ she said directly into his ear. ‘Something’s going to happen.’

He stretched up and looked back at the fire. The whole town, it seemed, was gathered around it in a massive circle. Less than a dozen people – including him and Evi, Gillian and the Fletcher family – were still in the lane. ‘What?’ he said, bending back down to her. ‘What’s going to happen?’

‘I think they’re building up for some sort of dare-devil stunt,’ she said. ‘I think most of these people know what it is and I think it sometimes goes wrong. Since we arrived tonight I’ve seen two people with fairly serious burns on their faces. And people are nervous. Look at them.’

She was right. Couples had moved closer together. Parents were holding tightly to children. Men with beer glasses in their hands had stopped drinking. All eyes except his and Evi’s were on the fire. On the circle of men around it.

They were waiting. Tom didn’t know what for. He’d given up trying to take photographs, he didn’t want to miss what was going to happen next. Not far away from them a kid starting crying – for a second he thought it was Millie. Another three, possibly four steps and those bone men would be in the fire. They were made of straw and old rags, how could they possibly—

One of them was on fire. A stray spark must have caught it, because what a second ago had been a human-shaped figure was now a mass of flames being held high in the air.

‘We honour the dead!’

Tom didn’t know where the shout came from, but as it rang out across the moor the flaming bone man was flung high into the air. It landed almost on the summit of the fire and within seconds had melted into the whole. Someone higher on the moor, maybe on Morrell Tor, released a firework. It shot into the sky and it seemed as though the dead man’s soul was heading upwards.

Another of the bone men was alight and flying through the air.
Another firework. Then a third bone man and a fourth. More fireworks. The crowd watched as, one by one, the bone men caught fire and were thrown on to the bonfire. As each one took to the air, the same shout went up.

‘We honour the dead!’

Some of the bone men must have had fireworks in their pockets, because coloured sparks started to shoot out of the fire in all directions. People in the crowd began to squeal and turn away. Just in front of Tom, his dad pulled Joe off his shoulders and put him on the ground. Alice, with Millie in her arms, took a step back and Tom felt his dad pull him down off the wall. Then the fire collapsed into the ground.

‘What in the …?’

Harry stepped forward, leaving Evi behind by the wall. He was vaguely aware of Gareth Fletcher instructing his family to stay where they were. The two men strode forward until they could step up on to the fence and get a better view.

‘I can’t believe what I’m looking at,’ Harry heard himself saying.

‘How the bugger did they manage that?’ asked Gareth.

Where the bonfire had blazed not seconds ago there was now a great, gaping hole in the ground. The fire had become a pit filled with flames. Coloured sparks from fireworks shot out in every direction and Harry could still make out several human-shaped forms.

‘I think we’ve just glimpsed the gateway to hell,’ said Gareth.

Harry watched as the men who had held the effigies turned from the fire at last, were handed spades from onlookers and began to shovel waiting piles of earth on to the fire. Others joined in, some using spades, others their bare hands.

‘They built the fire over a pit,’ said Gareth. ‘They must have put some sort of floor over the top and then built the fire on it. When the foundation burned through the whole thing collapsed.’

‘They’re burying the dead,’ said Evi. Harry turned, startled. She was beside him on the fence. For a moment he wondered how she’d managed it and then realized that a woman who could mount a horse could probably climb a fence. ‘Look what they’re doing, throwing earth on to the bones. It’s what we do at a burial.’

‘Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,’ said Gareth. ‘What do you think, Doc?’

Evi seemed to think about it for a second. ‘Personally,’ she said, ‘I’m glad it was no worse.’

46

T
HE BLINDS
IN THE WINDOW WERE
STILL OPEN.
THAT DIDN

T
happen much any more. Normally Tom closed them even before it got properly dark. The whole family, apart from Millie, were in the kitchen. The father stood closest to the window, talking to the man who looked after the church. At the table sat a young woman with dark hair and large eyes. They were drinking and talking. They looked happy. Where was Millie?

Tom had climbed up on to the kitchen counter. He was staring out at the darkness. Then he reached up and pulled down the string that lowered the blind. The scene disappeared.

Had they locked the door?

47

‘I
CAN’T
BELIEVE
JENNY
DIDN’T
WARN
ME
ABOUT
THAT,’
SAID
Alice.

‘Maybe she didn’t want to spoil the surprise,’ said Gareth. ‘Tom, will you get down from there? What will you have, Evi?’

Gareth turned away from his eldest son to look at Evi, which gave Tom just enough time to lower the blind on the kitchen window. He noticed that Evi was watching him as he went to the other window, climbed up on to the worktop and did the same thing. Had he checked that the front door was locked?

‘So can we have a bone man next year?’ Joe asked, for what felt like the tenth time that evening. Joe thought that if he asked a question often enough then sooner or later he’d get the answer he wanted. Frequently, it worked.

‘Not if it means your father gets his testicles roasted,’ said Alice, as Joe dissolved into giggles. He couldn’t hear that word without cracking up. ‘I think there must be a lot of singed eyebrows in Heptonclough tonight.’

‘Not to mention other parts,’ said Harry. ‘Thanks, mate.’ He took a lager from Tom’s dad and opened it, drinking straight from the can.

‘Come on, Joe,’ said Alice, ‘it’s time for you to go up. Tom, you’ve got fifteen minutes.’

‘I want to look at my photographs first,’ Tom said.

‘Did you get any good ones?’ asked Evi.

A sudden thought struck Tom. ‘I think so,’ he said. ‘You can come and look at them with me if you want.’

Tom’s mum turned round in the doorway. ‘Tom, sweetheart …’ she started.

‘Thanks,’ said Evi. ‘I’d like to. If that’s OK, Alice?’

BOOK: Blood Harvest
12.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Saint in Action by Leslie Charteris, Robert Hilbert;
The Forbidden Temple by Patrick Woodhead
Claimed by the Wolf by Saranna DeWylde
Step Scandal - Part 3 by St. James, Rossi
Harlem Redux by Walker, Persia
Shock Factor by Jack Coughlin
For Love or Money by Tim Jeal