Chapter 51
STEPHEN
Static splutters from the walkie talkie, filling the eerie silence around them.
‘Are you ready to talk, Mr Williams?’ comes the low voice of William Davies, the butcher.
Graham presses the button on the side. ‘What do you want? You can’t keep us down here. People will talk. Think about it, Davies.’
‘We only want the girl. We know she’s down there. We’ve been looking for her for a long time.’
Stephen shudders at the impersonal way Davies is describing Sophia, like she’s an object, not a human being.
Stephen glances over at Sophia. She’s not a girl anymore.
She’s a grown woman, having lived the past decade down in the dark and damp earth.
She and her mother have finally been found.
She deserves to have her voice heard. Stephen doesn’t know what the village committee have planned for her, but they do seem to think that she’s the answer to ending the curse.
But now that Frank is dead, surely his sacrifice is enough to satisfy them? According to Sophia though, the curse isn’t even real. Merely a spooky story the council has created to control everyone.
Stephen holds his breath as Graham continues to speak into the radio, taking full control of the situation.
‘No deal,’ he says.
‘Give us the girl and this is all over,’ comes the curt reply.
‘There has to be another way around this.’
There’s a long pause on the other end. Stephen wonders if they’ve given up, deciding to let them all starve to death down here, but then it crackles again.
‘Send up the journalist instead.’
Graham’s eyes swivel to his. Stephen gulps hard, sweat beading on his top lip and forehead, then nods once. He doesn’t know what awaits him, but he knows it’s the right decision. He can’t let them take Sophia. He’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep her safe.
‘Fine,’ says Graham, then switches off the radio. ‘I don’t like this, Stephen. It’s a trap.’
‘Don’t worry. I can handle myself.’
‘Somehow I very much doubt that.’
Stephen ignores Graham’s swipe at him and turns to Sophia. ‘You were about to tell us if Ceri Griffiths is the person in charge before the trapdoor slammed shut?’
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Who is she though?’ asks Graham. ‘I don’t recognise her name.’
‘That’s because she’s known as Karen. In Wales, it’s tradition to use your middle name. Her name is Ceri Karen Griffiths. My first name is actually Cariad. Sophia is my middle name.’
Graham’s mouth drops open.
‘Isn’t Karen the name of your friend you mentioned, Graham?’ asks Stephen.
Graham closes his eyes and mutters, ‘I’m losing my touch. She never told me her surname. It’s never even come up.’
Stephen ignores Graham’s bitter tone and turns back to Sophia. ‘I need to know what I’m up against. Is there anything else you think I should know? How will they play this? Is this Karen woman dangerous?’
‘She’s the worst there is. She pretends to be all nice, but my dad’s told me stories about her family. They’re all psychos. I’m pretty sure her family started the whole curse thing and twisted and used it to control everyone in the village.’
Stephen pauses for a moment, his brain working on super speed. ‘With your father now dead, that makes you the last Hammel in the family, does it not?’
‘I guess so. My little brother died when I was young and now dad is dead … and Mum is only a Hammel by name. Perhaps they think if they kill me, they can end the curse once and for all. Protect the members and their families at all costs. I’m not sure why they’d want you in place of me, but it can’t be for anything good. ’
Stephen brushes off a spiderweb from his shoulder. ‘You let me worry about that. They’re panicking, that’s all. I reckon they plan on killing all of us. It’s the only way their secret will remain safe. They want to tie up all the loose ends before the truth gets out into the community.’
‘What’s your plan?’ asks Graham. ‘Take into account that the police are corrupt in this village. No one is coming to help us.’
Stephen nods. ‘Don’t worry, I have a plan.’
‘And that would be?’
‘I don’t know yet, Graham.’
‘Are you telling me that you’re about to make it up as you go along; the man who always plans everything in detail, who doesn’t go anywhere without a step by step outline of how to proceed?’
Stephen grins. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’
‘Hmm. Our lives are in your hands. If you fail, we’re going to be trapped down here.’
‘I’ll try and wedge the trapdoor open while they aren’t looking. You’ll need to try and find a way to get Sophia and her mother out from behind the bars. Here.’ Stephen hands Graham the thin piece of wire.
Graham takes it. ‘I’ll get them out.’
‘It’s settled then.’
Graham extends his hand for Stephen to shake, but Stephen just smiles at him.
He steps forward and embraces his old friend, squeezing him into a hug like he wished he could have hugged his own father.
He doesn’t like being physically close to people, but now isn’t the time for his personal preferences.
‘You’re a good man, Stephen,’ says Graham, slapping him on the back.
‘You’re going to need this too,’ replies Stephen, handing Graham his phone.
It looks like he’s going to have to make his way back to the ladder using only touch.
Less than five minutes later, breathing heavy and clammy with sweat, Stephen reaches the top of the ladder. The trip through the darkness has rendered him almost catatonic, but his nerve endings are on fire. Every sense is alive and kicking, on overdrive.
He’s made it.
He knocks on the underside of the trapdoor. It takes a few moments, but then a crack of light appears in a square shape above. He blinks, shielding his eyes as he emerges from the dark depths. His body craves the light like it craves oxygen.
‘Hello, there, Mr Mallow.’
Stephen looks up at the face of William Davies.
‘Call me Stephen,’ he replies, climbing the rest of the way up.
As he passes the floor, he quickly sticks a stone into the crack of the hinge of the trapdoor.
A quick slight of hand and it’s done. He’s grabbed from behind and shoved to his knees by Diane, who’s much stronger than he gave her credit for.
The trapdoor slams shut, but it’s not completely flush with the ground.
No one notices. They’re too focused on Stephen who puts up a fight, a ruse to draw their attention.
It works.
Stephen glances around for the dog, but he must be hiding.
Once they leave the area, Graham will be able to push open the trapdoor. How he plans to get Sophia and her mother out, Stephen doesn’t know, but they have their own parts to play in this rescue mission.
Stephen is kicked in the side. He grunts and rolls over into a foetal position to protect himself from any further damage. A sharp pain pierces his skull.
‘Hmm … not exactly part of the plan, but you’ll do,’ says Davies. ‘Since Mr Williams is down there keeping Sophia company, how about we get Stephen here ready?’
Stephen forces his eyes to focus on Davies who has two heads that swim in and out of focus. ‘Ready for what?’ he asks.
‘You’ll see.’
Stephen tries to force back a cough, but it erupts from his chest. Once he catches his breath, he says, ‘It won’t work, you know. There’s no such thing as the curse. It’s all been fabricated over the years. You do realise that, right?’
Davies laughs. ‘I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that. What goes around comes around.’
Before Stephen can answer, a large fist connects with his face and he plunges into darkness.
When he peels his eyes open, a large group of people are standing around him in the yard.
He knows this place. He’s back at Rosemore Cottage.
The sun is beginning to set now. The Hanging Tree stands proud atop the hill in the distance, surrounded by yellows and oranges that magically dance across the sky.
The group of people in the yard are all dressed in black robes.
The village committee members, he presumes.
But something doesn’t quite add up in Stephen’s mind.
There are a lot more of them than Stephen had first thought.
For all he knows, the entire village has turned up, but turned up for what?
He can’t see any of their faces, thanks to their oversized hoods.
They each hold a lit torch in their hands.
Stephen feels as if he’s travelled back in time.
Wait … that’s exactly what he’s done …
It’s then that he realises. It’s a mirage of a long-forgotten time. A hundred years back in time, to be precise. Davies and Diane make no move or remark that tells Stephen they are aware of the group of villagers. Only Stephen can see them. It’s in his mind. He’s seeing things again.
He’s close to the end. He can feel it. The tumour is pushing deeper and deeper, harder and harder. His brain is breaking down.
Between them, Davies and Diane drag him up the hill towards the tree. Stephen’s legs have lost all coordination and strength. He knows he should be trying to fight for his life, but there’s a feeling deep down inside that’s telling him he needs to allow this to play out.
He accepts his fate.
The black-robed villagers chant and follow the trio up the hill. This is it. He’s doomed. He’s going to be strung up a tree and hung, just like John Hammel all those years ago. And his body can do nothing to stop it. He has no fight left in him and that’s okay.
His only thought is of Graham, Sophia and her mother trapped down in the dark. What if the stone wedged in the hinge doesn’t work and they are trapped down there forever?
Stephen is shoved to the ground at the base of the tree, fallen acorns digging into his knees. Stephen stares into its branches as the orange and yellow sky lights it up like a beacon.
‘I’m sorry, John,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry you died here like this. I’m sorry I couldn’t make things right.’
He closes his eyes as a loop of rope lowers over his head and tightens around his neck. He tries to gulp, but it’s so tight, his Adam’s apple gets stuck. Tears brim through his closed eyelids as he takes what he knows to be his final breath.
The rope tightens.
It tightens some more.
He’s forced to stand, but he never opens his eyes.
‘Any last words?’ says a voice nearby.
Stephen feels the life, the words of the man from a hundred years ago enter his head. ‘The darkness is my friend. I shall live on.’
A loud smack echoes around him.
Hands grab at him.
Still, his eyes stay closed.
‘It’s all right, Stephen. I’ve got you, my friend,’ says a voice in the darkness.