Dead Village (4 page)

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Authors: Gerry Tate

BOOK: Dead Village
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CHAPTER 4

Greta Casey looked up into the dark moonlit sky, and pushed on, deeper into the forest.

She walked almost zombie like, as she tripped and stumbled against the trees and branches that stood in her path. Her forearm bled from an earlier fall, but she pushed on and ignored it.

“Ben, Charles,” she called. “Where are you? Please come to me.”

A small animal darted from the undergrowth and crashed into her legs, almost causing her to fall, but the startled animal sped off into the bushes before she could distinguish what it was. Whatever it was though, something must have frightened it badly, she reasoned.

A feeling inside of her told her they where close by, and even though she couldn't see them, Greta felt this to be true.

Greta scanned ahead, fully focused on what she had to do.

The rain was pouring down heavily, but Greta didn't even notice it, as it ran down and across her face, and mixed with her tears, forming little streams that spread onto her coatless shoulders and down her arms, dripping off her elbows and hands.

“Please,” she begged, “please don't leave me again.”

Even through the heavy rain and the darkness, Greta had seen something way out in front. Two figures had moved across her vision. It was them, she was sure of it. It was her husband and son, waiting for her. A feeling of euphoria filled her every being, and she moved very quickly on.

“Come back, come back,” she yelled. “I'm here, I'm here.”

Suddenly she went very quiet, and glanced around her, as though someone would see her, someone who would stop her from looking. That someone was Ken Tully, she feared.

*  *  *  *  *

She remembered back to just last week She had been searching the forest that night, when she saw a figure, and like tonight, she had yelled at it to come to her. But when the figure emerged from the darkness and shone his torch toward her, she found to her embarrassment that it was the gamekeeper, Tully.

Greta had remembered that Tully had been very pleasant with her though, and he had walked her from the forest with his arm on her shoulder, talking to her all the while.

But he had warned her of the dangers of the forest at night, with traps and such laid just about everywhere. To dissuade her from coming back, Tully had also lied to her that there were poisonous snakes in the forest, and he had made her promise him that she would not venture in there again at night.

She pretended to agree with Tully, and promised she would do as he asked, but deep down she had resented his interference.

After all, he wasn't the one who had been left on his own in an empty house every night and day for all these many lonely years. And anyhow, it was a free bloody country, she felt.

Ken Tully simply had no right to stop her from trying to find her family, even if he did mean well.

She gripped the large knife handle tightly, and made herself a promise. If Tully tried to stop her again tonight, then she would stab him through his heart and have done with it.

She would kill him without a second thought, because no one was going to keep her from her family. No one!

She struggled through the dense hedgerows and wet clinging grass, ignoring the cuts on her legs, searching everywhere, but now the figures had disappeared.

Her body tensed as she panicked, and she turned full circle as she scanned all around.

“Damn you Ben, damn you Charles,” she sobbed, as she fell to her knees and clutched at her wet hair.

High above her, in the swaying trees, the two hooded figures hovered, unmoving, watching down.

The smaller of the two creatures slowly started to edge forward, out from the branches, when suddenly the other creature gripped its arm firmly, and pulled it back into the shadows. Greta stumbled on, but soon found herself at the end of the forest. She could see the shiny rain lashed road through the trees, and she cursed.

*  *  *  *  *

The rain was bouncing off the car windows now, as Garda Jeremiah Fagan drove down toward Iron-Mills-Bridge and Cappawhite. Visibility was low and he was driving very slowly on full beams as he focused hard on the road in front. Beside him the trees along the edge of the forest swayed in the ever increasing wind. It had been otherwise quiet though, because in this weather everyone had stayed indoors, and now he was coming to the end of his shift.

Something, a petite figure of a woman perhaps, moved back into the trees on his left side, hiding from him, he felt. He was sure it had been a woman, although it seemed impossible that a woman would be out here in the forest on a stormy rain lashed night like this.

He wanted to drive on into the village, warm himself inside the dry welcoming police station, and ignore what he thought he'd seen. Instead though, he pushed hard on the brakes and the slow moving vehicle stopped almost immediately with only a slight skid.

He picked up his torch and shone the powerful beam through the side window as he slowly moved the spotlight along the trees, scanning every inch.

Something stood out from the darkness. Something that was different from the brown and green foliage of the forest. Something pink in colour it was, and it was hunched down beside a large tree, barely visible in the driving rain.

Officer Fagan didn't want to leave the car. He had heard the different stories regarding the forest. Strange and frightening stories, of ghouls and demons that weaved their way across the forest at night, wailing their death songs.

He hadn't really believed these far fetched stories, but being alone out here on a night like this would have unnerved even the hardest of cynics. Maybe though, someone had been badly injured, he felt.

Yes, this must be the answer, he felt. Someone had been walking at the side of the road, and had been hit by a vehicle in the blinding rain and darkness. This would be a clear cut case of a person becoming the victim of a hit and run driver.

He shone the beam along the road beside the car, in search of the tell tales signs of an accident. He looked for pieces of a broken headlight or skid marks on the ground, but there was nothing.

He shone the torch back into the trees, and the pink figure moved. Now he knew it was real, and now he had to do something about it.

He placed his cap firmly on his head, torch in hand, and quickly exited the vehicle, but he kept the car engine running. He would not take any unnecessary chances.

A heavy gust of wind almost blew the door off and he slammed it shut. Then the wind pulled at his hat, but he gripped it tightly and approached the crouching sobbing figure.

When he shone the light into Greta's face, she covered her eyes.

“Mrs Casey?” Jeremiah whispered, as he stared at the rain soaked pathetic looking woman.

“Good God, Mrs Casey, what the hell are you doing out here on a night like this?” Jeremiah almost shouted.

“Give me your hand woman, and let's get out of here.”

Greta stared at him for a moment without speaking. She slid the knife out from her pocket and held it tightly behind her back, staring wild eyed at him like some demented caged animal.

The rain poured down even harder now, and as he bent over, he could feel it cold and penetrating as it soaked onto his back, through his tunic. He was angry, and he felt like shouting at the woman, but he held his cool.

“Please, give me your hand Greta,” Jeremiah pleaded. “Please.” He forced a smile.

There was something about the young officer that somehow reminded her of her boys. Something sincere in his demeanour, sincere and loving. His smiling wet face had a kindness and a sort of understanding about it.

No, she wouldn't harm this good and kindly young man.

She dropped the heavy knife into the deep grass behind her and held her cold hand out to him, resigned now to the fact that she was never going to see her loved ones again. Now she would never return here to this place, ever.

How could I have been such a fool to even try and contact them?
Greta thought. It was quite clear to her now. Her husband and son had rejected her, didn't want her, and now there was nothing left for her to fight for.

Greta hugged Officer Fagan tightly, and sobbed into his chest as she gripped his back, digging in with her claw like fingers. He felt the cold water from her rain lashed body soak into his chest through his clothing, but most of all he felt embarrassed at her disturbing behaviour. In fact, the young policeman had mixed emotions for this distraught woman.

“C'mon now Mrs, Casey, let's get us both out of this rain.”

The officer's hat blew off in a flurry and disappeared high into the trees, but he would not be going in there after it, not tonight!

They rushed to the car like two lovers who couldn't bear to be separated from each other as Greta clung tightly to him, and he pulled her along.

She was still sobbing when Officer Fagan helped her into the rear seat of the car and forced her arms from him.

He jumped into the warm welcoming interior and pulled some tissues from a side panel, and as he threw a handful into the back he rubbed at his cold wet face.

Greta ignored the tissues and sobbed into her hands.

Jeremiah stared in the mirror at her for a moment before speaking.

“What's the story Greta?”

It was a few moments before Greta answered. But when she did, she was frank and to the point.

“I went to look for Ben and Charles tonight. I seen them and I followed them,” Greta admitted.

“You followed them?” Jeremiah repeated.

“Yes, but they're gone from me. Now I know this sounds crazy to you Jeremiah, but I seen them, called to them, but they wouldn't come to me.”

“Maybe you mixed them up with someone else?” Jeremiah said.

“No! It was my husband Ben, and Charles, my son,” she sobbed. “I told you, I followed them tonight, deep into the forest, but they ran from me. They don't want me any more. Now I know the hurtful truth. They never really wanted me.”

Officer Fagan knew this was more serious than he could handle. It was clear the woman's mind was going. It was also too late to do anything about it at this time of the night.

He would take her home, make sure she was all right, and have someone visit with her in the morning.

He drove the car somewhat faster than before, as Greta sobbed and cursed in the rear seat.

He felt uncomfortable in his wet clothes as he drove into Cappawhite.

When he pulled up at Greta's door, he was pleased to see her neighbour's downstairs light was still on.

Mrs Dempsey had lived next door to Greta for twenty five years, and Mrs Dempsey was a very helpful woman to everyone in the village, he knew. He was sure she would help now.

He rapped on Mrs Dempsey's door with some sadness at the situation, but he didn't even have to speak to the woman as she answered the door.

Mrs Dempsey had been well aware of Greta's trips to the forest, and the way she had been behaving lately.

She took one long understanding look at the drenched pitiful woman, as Jeremiah helped her from the car.

“It's all right Jeremiah, I'll look after her now,” she promised, as she led the sobbing frail figure into the house.

“Come along now Greta and I'll get you dried out and make you a nice warm cup of tea,” Mrs Dempsey promised, as Greta continued to sob softly into her hands.

“You're a kind hearted woman, Mrs Dempsey,” Officer Fagan shouted, as he waved goodbye.

*  *  *  *  *

When Jeremiah entered the station, the rain was still dripping from him, and the duty officer sensed that something had happened.

“You seem to have lost your hat Jeremiah,” duty officer Rainy said.

“Yes, I'll go look for it tomorrow.”

“Are you all right Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah nodded, and walked toward the locker room. When he returned, he had dried off and changed into his civilian clothes.

He didn't really feel like talking about this, but the two policemen behind the desk were staring intently down at him, their curiosity aroused. He saw the sergeant prod the other policeman with his finger, and he lowered his head.

“I think something bad has happened to Jeremiah tonight,” Officer Rainy said.

“Would that be right lad?” Sergeant Muldoon nosily asked, as he leaned toward Jeremiah.

“Has something bad happened to you tonight lad?”

Jeremiah explained what had happened earlier at the forest, and how he felt badly about the whole situation.

“Don't feel too bad about it lad,” Sergeant Muldoon said. “Greta Casey hasn't been right in the head this last number of years now, well not since her husband and both sons left her. I think she blames herself for it. In fact, in her husband's case she just won't admit there was another woman involved, and now her mind has somehow compensated by making her think he was taken by a demon in the forest.”

“A demon,” duty officer Rainey asked.

“Yes, a demon. She believes her husband and son Charles to be demons who roam the forest at night.”

“I know, she told me herself that she followed them into the forest tonight, but she claimed they rejected her,” Jeremiah explained.

“She told you that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Greta doesn't normally admit seeing them; poor woman, but maybe she can't hide the charade any more. It got worse for her when her other son, Brian, left her. The lad just couldn't take it any more.”

“I know all about Brian leaving the poor woman sarge,” Jeremiah answered. “And I still don't agree with what he did.”

“Oh!”

“Anyway, she was in a real state about it. That kindly woman, Mrs Dempsey's looking after her now, so I'll be off home. I'll give you a statement in the morning if that's okay?”

“That's fine Jeremiah, now go on home and see to that lovely young wife of yours.”

As Jeremiah was about to leave, he paused for a moment and turned around.

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