Chapter 45
SOPHIA
My knees stung with pain from where I crashed into the concrete floor.
Refusing to show weakness, I allowed the tears to fall, but held back a sob.
I turned and looked over my shoulder at the woman who had kicked me through the door.
Something didn’t feel right. The way she kept staring at me, her dark eyes boring into me, watching my every move.
My body was betraying me, shaking in fear. I knew I’d never liked her.
‘Sophia … what are you doing here?’ asked my dad.
My dad’s voice made me turn around to face him again, but I stayed on the floor, unsure if my legs would be able to support my weight if I tried to stand. ‘I … I needed to ask you something.’
In the dim room, the outline of my dad and his friends looked like dark shadows. Wait, no, they weren’t shadows. They were wearing black robes, which made them look like shadows.
What the …
My dad stepped closer to me, the faint light from above highlighting the rugged contours of his face beneath his dark hood. He wasn’t pleased to see me, but it wasn’t anger spread across his facial features. There was another emotion etched onto his face, one I’d barely seen before from him.
Fear.
My dad was terrified to find me here. He glanced behind me at the woman. Ceri Griffiths. She stepped around me on the floor and stood next to my dad, holding his intense gaze. The tension between the two practically crackled.
‘You … you shouldn’t have come here,’ said my dad, his voice low, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘I’m sorry, but …’
‘They’re going to …’
‘Enough with this,’ snapped Ceri. ‘Diane, grab some rope, would you?’
‘What?’
‘We’re doing this now.’
My dad gasped. ‘No, you can’t!’
‘You’ve had long enough, Frank.’
I’d forgotten about the other people in the room who were standing behind my dad. He locked eyes with me. I knew that look. He was trying to tell me something. He wanted me to run. I glanced behind me. The door hadn’t been closed yet. I still had a chance to escape.
I took my chance, summoned strength and coordination from somewhere and threw myself towards the half-open door behind me.
‘Stop her!’
The pounding of shoes on concrete sounded behind me as I ran, tripping over my own feet as I wrenched the door open and ran at full speed down the dark corridor the way I’d come. They were closing in fast. I didn’t have enough of a gap, enough of a headway.
I made it outside. Since I’d been in the building, it had started raining and dark clouds had formed overhead. Streetlights were on, but there was no one around. Empty streets.
Heart pounding, I ran straight out onto the road. My legs burned, my lungs heaved. I couldn’t hear footsteps anymore. Had they given up already? I didn’t dare look back to check.
I only stopped running when I reached the graveyard. There was still a way to go to reach Rosemore Cottage, the only place I could think to run and hide, but I couldn’t keep up the pace any longer, not without passing out or puking.
There were no raised voices or footsteps following me, so I thought I was safe. For now.
Sucking in deep breaths, I made my way through the gloomy headstones towards John Hammel’s lonely grave. I needed to pass it to reach the other side where I’d then continue to head towards my destination, but a twig snapping made me stop in my tracks.
Was that me? Or was there someone behind me?
Every muscle and reflex wanted me to turn and check behind, but I forced myself to keep facing ahead.
‘Sophia, stop,’ said a familiar voice.
I did stop. I did turn.
‘Dad?’
I stared at my dad, standing amongst the headstones, a plank of wood clenched in his hands. The rain was pelting down, soaking us.
‘Dad, what’s going on?’ I asked. ‘Are they following me?’
‘No, you’re safe,’ he replied, stepping forwards.
‘I don’t understand what’s going on. Why do they want me?’
Dad hung his head, his chin grazing his chest. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Dad … what …’
I didn’t get a chance to finish my question before he lunged at me, the plank of wood held high over his head. I shrieked and stumbled backwards, tripping over a fallen headstone. The last thing I saw was my dad’s face full of tears, seconds before he brought the plank of wood down on my head.
The world went dark.
I woke up an unknown amount of time later in a dark, cold room.
Nothing made sense. My dad had wanted me to run, then followed me to the graveyard and knocked me out with a plank of wood.
My eyes ached. They practically pleaded with me to remain closed, but I had to keep them open.
I had to know where I was and what had happened.
The back of my head throbbed and the swirl of nausea in my gut made me want to retch.
I forced my eyes open, only to be met with darkness.
I may as well have kept them closed. I allowed a few seconds to pass for my eyes to adjust, but all I saw were dark shapes.
I inhaled, smelling damp soil. Was I underground, perhaps?
Or in a cellar? The farm did have one. It was where my dad stored food items that needed to stay cold.
Speaking of cold: it was freezing. Goosebumps sprung to my exposed skin.
John’s old jacket I was wearing was soaking wet from the rain I’d run through to get away from the village council members.
I went to pull the jacket tighter across my chest to protect against the bracing cold, but I couldn’t move.
My hands were attached to something in front of me.
A thick rope bound my wrists, biting into the delicate skin.
Leaning forwards, I reached out my hands, feeling for the rope and followed it until I found it attached to a metal ring in the wall, which itself was damp and cold.
Earth. I was underground, in some sort of large hole.
It was proving difficult to get my bearings. All I knew was I couldn’t move more than a few feet in any direction and my hands were bound together. As I sat in the darkness, my ears picked up a scuffling sound coming from nearby.
‘Hello?’
Nothing, but silence followed my voice.
It was most likely a mouse or a vole, digging in the soil around me.
‘Good, you’re awake.’ The familiar voice of my dad came from the darkness beyond, but it made me feel anything, but safe and warm.
‘Dad?’ I yanked the rope, but all the movement did was cause it to bite into my skin even further.
‘I wouldn’t pull too much, or you’ll do yourself damage.’
‘What’s going on? Why have you brought me here and tied me up?’
My dad stepped forward just as a light flickered to life nearby. It illuminated only one side of his face, causing him to look menacing, evil. He didn’t look like my dad.
‘To save you, Cariad. To save you.’