The Curse of Deadman's Forest (31 page)

BOOK: The Curse of Deadman's Forest
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Ian stopped and looked about. The forest surrounding them was a very unsettling place, and Ian had tried to pretend not to notice the presence of something dark and sinister he’d felt shadowing them from the moment they’d set foot onto the path. But now, as he gazed into the trees, the ominous presence felt all the more oppressive. And then a slow rumbling came to his ears.

His eyes darted to Carl, who seemed to hear it too.

“What’s that?” Carl whispered.

“Thunder?” Ian asked, hoping it was only the weather.

Carl listened for a moment before commenting. “No,” he said softly. “That’s not thunder.”

A rustling in the foliage called their attention and they both ducked low. “What’s
that?”
Carl whispered as they crouched down.

Ian shrugged. “Dunno. But I don’t think we should sit around here and find out. Come on.”

Ian darted sideways, keeping low to the ground as he went. Carl was close on his heels and the boys made their way to a large tree and scooted around behind it, away from the rustling foliage.

But the distant rumbling was getting louder. “We can’t stay here,” Carl insisted, and to Ian’s dismay he began to cough again, but this time the attack went on and on. Carl’s pale face turned red with effort and he struggled to breathe. Ian could only watch and pat him on the back. Finally, Carl was able to take a few shaky breaths, and he nodded when Ian asked him if he was well enough to set off again.

Ian squinted out from behind the tree and spied something large and gray looming in the distance. Through the drizzle he could see that it was a sizable stone, and he hoped they could both find some cover behind it. “Follow me,” he instructed before dashing out from behind the tree.

The boys were nearly to the stone when a figure stepped out in front of them, blocking their path. Ian stopped so
abruptly that Carl crashed into him and the boys both went sprawling to the ground.

Ian managed to regain his feet faster than Carl, and when he stood up, he saw that it was only Eva, planted firmly in their path, looking wet and furious.
“What
do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

Ian helped Carl to his feet. “What do
you
care?” he snapped, irritated that she’d caused them both a tumble.

“You cannot be here!” she yelled back.

“I thought you went to the city,” he said, noticing her formal—albeit rain-soaked—attire.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “My grandmother came to fetch me to tell me that you had left, and don’t change the subject! You weren’t supposed to leave the cottage!”

Ian glared hard at her in return. “What’s it to you what we do?” he snapped, all the fear and anger and anxiety over Carl’s illness and Theo’s disappearance catching up with him. When she didn’t answer him, Ian added, “I must say that although I am grateful for your care and attention, we are
not
your prisoners! We may come and go as we like!”

“Where is your sister?” Eva demanded as the slow drizzle suddenly turned into a downpour.

“What do you
care
?” Ian asked again in exasperation just as Carl began another coughing fit, which forced him to reach out for the support of a nearby tree. “You’ve helped yourself to
all
our money and we’ve left you in peace! What does it matter to you if we stay or go?”

Eva’s face flushed crimson, but she continued to rail at
Ian. “My grandmother is old and feeble, Ian! You don’t have permission to be in this forest, and when you left, you forced her out of bed to walk all the way to the village to fetch me!”

Ian shook his head, utterly furious at her accusations. “Your grandmother chose to get out of her bed, Eva. I certainly never forced her to do anything! And I’ve no idea what rubbish you’re talking about when you suggest we don’t have permission to be here. You can’t possibly
own
this entire forest! We may walk about it as we see fit!” Ian made a move to step around Eva, but she jumped in front of him, blocking his path.

“No!” she said, her eyes panicked. “Ian, you don’t understand! This forest is cursed. It doesn’t allow trespassers, and I promised the crone that I would keep you within the confines of our yard until the payment has been made!”

Ian’s head swam with too much information. He had no idea what Eva was going on about, and he found that he didn’t really care. He needed to find Theo, and quickly. And he also needed to find the Healer in time to help Carl, who was coughing so consistently and with such effort that Ian knew he wouldn’t stay on his feet much longer. He hated to think what he would do if Carl collapsed, because in his own weakened condition, he would be no help to him. “I don’t care who or what you promised,” he snapped. “Now step aside, Eva. This no longer concerns you.” Ian turned to help Carl, who was still hunched over and gasping for breath, when there was a sharp crash right behind them.

Ian whirled around only to come face to face with the grille of a motorcar. He pulled Carl out of the way just as the
automobile came to a rather abrupt stop. Ian struggled to comprehend what a motorcar was doing slogging through the forest, but he barely had time to digest its appearance before several uniformed and heavily armed men jumped out and pointed their guns directly at him, Carl, and Eva.

“What do we have here?” asked one mean-looking man with a rat-shaped face.

Neither Eva nor Ian replied—both of them were too stunned under the threat of the guns being pointed at them to respond—and poor Carl was doubled over, still coughing and fighting for air.

The rat-faced man stepped up to Eva and eyed her up and down suspiciously. “What are you doing out in the forest, you little Polish scum?” he snarled.

Eva gasped, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand you, sir,” she said in a quivering voice. “I only speak Polish.”

The man slapped her so hard across the face that Eva spun in a circle before collapsing to the ground. “Stop!” Ian shouted at the soldier while he attempted to go to Eva’s aid, but before he could move more than a foot, the nose of a gun was placed right against his temple. Ian froze and closed his eyes, not even daring to breathe.

He heard the squish of leather boots in the mud and opened his eyes again to look directly into the narrowed eyes of the rat-faced man. “Are you from the village?” the soldier asked him.

Ian believed that at that point, it might be prudent to lie. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I live in the village.”

The man rocked back on his heels, a triumphant look in
his eyes. “And you speak German!” he said. Ian couldn’t help noticing the accusing tone his words held. “Herr Black was right! These woods are full of Polish spies!”

“Colonel,” said another soldier, hovering near Eva, who was now struggling to her feet, “look at what has come out of the girl’s pockets.”

The colonel moved away from Ian, who was still held fast by the nose of the gun next to his head. He watched with wide eyes as the colonel bent and picked something up off the ground. Ian knew immediately what had dropped out of Eva’s pocket, and he also knew that it would be their undoing. “An English pound note?” the colonel inquired, holding the bit of paper up to his eyes, which then moved back to Eva. “Is that who is paying you to spy on us?” he spat, his face turning red with anger.

Eva was shaking her head as she shivered in fear. Her left cheek was scarlet from the slap the colonel had given her. “Yes!” she told him. “Take my money! Take all of it!” And with that, she emptied her pockets of all the pound notes she carried; Ian knew quite well it was a small fortune.

The colonel glowered at her in disgust. “You see that?” he said to one of his men standing nearby. “She confesses.”

Ian searched for anything he could say to the colonel, any explanation he might offer that would get them out of their situation, but before he could even form the words, the colonel had pulled out his pistol, held it up to Eva’s chest, and fired.

The poor girl was flung backward by the force of
the point-blank shot, and as she fell, a scream echoed through the trees just behind Ian. He had no time to react, no time even to take in what was happening, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew who that scream belonged to.

“Ah,” said the colonel, looking just past Ian. “Even more come out of the forest hoping for mercy. We will show them none.” Turning to the man holding the gun at Ian’s temple, the colonel said, “Sergeant, shoot these Polish scum. I am off to see if our friend Magus Black is correct and this path is wide enough for my panzers. We must make haste if we are to meet up with the rest of the divisions on their way to take Warsaw!”

Ian gasped at both the mention of Magus’s name and what else the colonel had just revealed, but he barely had time to register that the vile sorcerer was working with the German army to invade Poland when his eyes swiveled to lock with those of the man the colonel had given their death orders to. He noted that the sergeant appeared uncertain.

“Colonel,” the sergeant said quietly, and the nose of the gun came away slightly from Ian’s temple. “They are just children. Are you certain it is necessary to shoot them?”

The colonel stepped up to the sergeant and pointed his own pistol directly at him. For a long tense moment, Ian was convinced the rat-faced man would shoot his own soldier. “Are you questioning a direct order?” the colonel asked in a dangerously soft tone.

The sergeant was quick to shake his head. “No, of course not, Colonel Gropp,” he said. “I shall shoot these Polish scum, just as you so wisely commanded.”

Gropp lowered his pistol and waved to the other soldiers to get into the motorcar. “You will meet up with us later,” he told the sergeant, making a point of staring up at the rain coming down in a steady flow. “Perhaps a little time spent in this miserable downpour will reinforce how comfortable my car was.” With that he got into his automobile and shut the door, but the car did not drive off. Ian suspected that the colonel wanted to watch his sergeant and make sure he did as he was told.

“You there!” the soldier shouted to someone just behind Ian. “Come out here at once!”

Ian heard the sound of soft footsteps and he felt a wave of despair. A moment later Theo stepped up next to him and took his hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said to him, tears rolling down her wet face to mix with the rain.

Ian turned his eyes back up to the soldier aiming his gun at them. “Please spare her!” he begged. “She’s just a little girl, sir! Innocent! She’s done nothing wrong!”

“Silence!” the soldier commanded, his eyes showing no mercy. “Turn around and march over there!”

Ian glanced sideways at Carl, whose eyes were wide with fright. “Is he
really
going to shoot us?” Carl said, as if he could hardly believe it.

“Now!”
shouted the soldier, and the three of them quickly turned around and walked to where the soldier had
pointed. Behind them Ian could hear the man’s heavy footsteps and he braced himself, unsure when the sergeant would pull the trigger. They walked just a few meters down an incline to the edge of a steep ravine before the sergeant commanded them to stop. “On your knees,” he ordered, “with your hands behind your head!”

Ian’s mind was racing to find a way to escape their situation. Should they run? Should he tackle the soldier, hoping it would give Theo time to get away?
“Down on your knees!”
their guard shouted impatiently.

Ian sank to his knees, so terrified that he was unable to form a plan. All he could do was numbly follow the orders being given to him and pray for a miracle. He saw the car’s wheels and underbelly up the hill. They obscured the view of the terrible man inside who’d just condemned them to death. “Hands behind your heads!” the sergeant shouted again.

Ian placed his hands behind his head and swallowed hard as he stared defiantly up at the man ordered to shoot him. He vowed to force himself not to look away. Suddenly, he felt the full weight of Theo as she ignored the soldier’s orders and crawled over to hug him fiercely while she buried her face in his drenched shirt. Something flickered in the soldier’s eyes as he looked down at Ian and Theo, and for a moment he hesitated, but then he demanded that Ian force Theo to let him go and place her hands behind her head.

But Ian had no intention of complying, and he suddenly didn’t care if it angered the man with the gun. His dying
breath would be spent trying to comfort the one person in all the world who meant the most to him. Ignoring the soldier, he wrapped his own arms around Theo, feeling dreadful shame for not having lived up to Laodamia’s command to guard and protect the One. Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t cry, Theo. It will be very quick, I promise you. Just a bee sting really, and it will all be over. Hold on to me as tightly as you can, and you’ll hardly feel a—”

Ian’s words were cut short by the explosive sound of a gunshot. Next to him, Carl grunted and fell backward. Ian squeezed his eyes tightly shut and held on to Theo for all he was worth, waiting with a hammering heart for his turn. The smell of gunpowder clung to his nostrils and the sound of rain pattered on the leaves all around him, and for a moment there was no other noise. Ian began to wonder what was taking so long when two more rapid shots deafened his ears. He startled at the noise and felt an immediate punch to his left side, which sent him sprawling head over heels. He landed hard at the bottom of the ravine, still clinging to Theo, whose lifeless body lay in his arms. After that, all Ian could do was wait for the world to go dark.

SHELTER IN THE TREES

F
or a very long time, Ian lay still, his breathing shallow while the pain in his side throbbed on and on. He listened to the squish of the soldier’s boots when he walked away from them, the roar of the colonel’s engine as it moved off deeper into the woods, and the soft but constant
thwap
of raindrops hitting the foliage all around him.

He focused with all his might on these sounds, because what had just happened to his whole world threatened to make him insane. He couldn’t face the reality of it, so he listened to the rain and hoped his own death would come soon.

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