Something Wicked (32 page)

‘What were they going to do with them?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘A friend told me that some groups connected to the occult removed hands and feet because God created us in his image and it was to desecrate that.’

Nicholas’s face was blank. If that was true, it was the first he knew of it. He closed his eyes, reaching for Lara again. ‘I only remember it in flashes. Perhaps I was blacking out
but it could have been because of the weather. It wasn’t raining but the thunder was getting louder and there were these really bright white flashes that lit up the trees. It actually
didn’t hurt that much when they took my fingers – I assume they’d given me something but who knows? I remember my dad taking my third finger. He held it in the air, letting the
blood drip. I thought he was going to eat it for a moment but he started saying these words I didn’t understand, then there was this enormous
boooooooooom
.’

Nicholas’s eyes popped and he held his hands out wide as he tried to explain how loud it was without raising his voice.

‘It was like the sound was everywhere. I could feel it pouring through me, like my whole body was shaking. As that happened, the lightning lit everything up. It was like when someone
shines a torch in your eyes but so much brighter. I couldn’t really see for a few seconds, my eyes were full of pink and green stars, but then it all came clear in a flash. Because the
thunder and lightning was so close, everyone had hit the ground. They were holding their ears and rubbing their eyes. I was about to start struggling when I realised I wasn’t tied to the tree
any longer.’

‘What happened?’

A shrug. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps one of them untied me.’ He glanced at Lara, before blinking away. ‘Perhaps
He
was unhappy they only had seventeen . . .’

‘. . .
It’s all about faith
. . .’

Keira.

‘What did you do when you realised you were free?’ Andrew asked.

‘I ran for it. I couldn’t really feel the pain in my hand but grabbed some big leaves to try to stop my fingers bleeding. I ran and ran, then hid under this thick bush on the edge of
the woods. I could hear them shouting but didn’t move. By the time the sun started to come up, I went to the only other place I knew – Lara’s.’

‘How did you get there if you were covered in dirt and bleeding?’

Nicholas looked at him as if he was stupid. ‘Have you
seen
half the people in this city?’

Good point.

‘I didn’t know if they might be watching her house,’ Nicholas continued. ‘I went in through the back. At the time, she didn’t even know I was missing.’

Andrew turned to Lara, who was still rubbing at her face. ‘I wanted him to go to the hospital but then he said it was everyone we knew who’d done it. I did what I could to patch him
up—’

‘Is that why you dropped out from your medical course?’

‘Sort of. My mum was a qualified doctor, though she never did it as a job because it didn’t interest her. There were textbooks all around the house and I used to read them. I thought
it’d be fun when I was younger. I used them to help fix up Nicholas, but the whole thing felt a bit too real after that. That was a pretty good indicator I wasn’t cut out for
it.’

‘Your mum was qualified as a doctor?’

‘So?’

‘We looked into your parents but never saw that.’

‘Why would you? She never worked as a doctor, nurse, or in any medical role. She ran the business with Dad. If it wasn’t for the textbooks around the house, I wouldn’t have
known and I wouldn’t have been interested in studying medicine.’

Andrew focused back on Nicholas. ‘So where were you hiding all this time?’

‘Here and there. We figured they’d come to ask Lara if she’d seen me, which they did. They didn’t want to let on about the whole sacrifice thing, so couldn’t tell
her everything. It wasn’t safe there anyway. I got by through a combination of Lara’s shed and a few abandoned houses. None of that was safe, which is why she applied to come into
halls. People might have been watching her house but they’d never be able to monitor somewhere this big.’

‘How did you know you’d be able to hide in the walls?’

‘I didn’t. That was a bit of a bonus. The general plan was for me to stay here. There are so many people coming and going with hoods up and the like that you’d never know who
was who.’ He held his left hand up, indicating the room. ‘Lara moved in during the summer and said there was a bigger space between the bedroom and the bathroom, so she fought to get
this spot. We figured it was somewhere I could duck into just in case. Usually, I sit around here but, at first, people were always knocking, asking if Lara wanted to go out, so it was handy.
Gradually, I started going out more.’

‘What happened with Kristian Verity and the rest?’

Nicholas reached for the knife. ‘What do you think? The ritual wasn’t complete, so they were going to come for me if I didn’t go for them. It was for my own safety.’

‘How many?’

He didn’t answer at first. ‘Put it this way: there aren’t many left.’

‘If there were seventeen to begin with but hardly any left, how come none of it’s been in the news? People don’t just get killed and that’s the end of it.’

Nicholas smiled, and for the first time, Andrew felt the enormity of what the teenager had done. He wasn’t sorry for it. ‘They didn’t want it getting out, so the other members
of the circle covered things up. You must have found Wicker’s body before anyone else. They wouldn’t have liked that.’

Andrew remembered that Richard Carr had called him that night, which now made even more sense. If that was the first body the police had found, he would have been panicking.

‘How did you do it?’

There was another nervous glance between Nicholas and Lara, who was clearly less pleased about matters than her boyfriend was.

‘You don’t need to know that.’

Andrew left it at that – he could fill in the blanks and wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway.

‘It was self-defence,’ Nicholas added.

Andrew didn’t know what to say. Perhaps it was, but he could hardly let things continue as they were, knowing that Nicholas planned to kill his father, among others. The situation was a
complete mess.

As Nicholas stood, Andrew’s phone started to ring. He fished it out of his pocket, staring at the screen as the two teenagers froze. ‘It’s my assistant,’ Andrew said,
holding his phone into the air, asking for permission to answer it.

Nicholas nodded, so Andrew pressed the button. ‘Jenny?’

‘Hello, Mr Hunter.’

Richard Carr’s voice sent shivers along Andrew’s spine. There was none of the sorrow from when they’d first met, only menace.

‘Have you found my son yet?’

Andrew glanced up to Nicholas, holding up a single finger. ‘No.’

‘Your little friend here tells me differently. If you want to see her again, I suggest we meet in the woods. You bring Nicholas – he’ll know where. And don’t call the
police.’

Nicholas needed no persuasion to go, tucking the knife into his trousers, pulling up his hoody and telling Lara to check the corridor.

Andrew felt like he was on autopilot. In many ways, he didn’t care about the bizarre rituals of whatever the Circle of Eighteen was. He was also struggling to feel much sorrow for the
members Nicholas had apparently killed. He didn’t know the names of most of them and likely never would. What he did know was that Richard had gone out of his way to trick him into finding
Nicholas and had then kidnapped Jenny. It was no wonder Nicholas had turned out the way he had when you considered his father.

The corridor was empty, the stairwell quiet as the three of them made their way to Andrew’s car. For the first mile, nobody said anything, but then Andrew couldn’t take it any
longer. He glanced in the rear-view mirror trying to catch Nicholas’s eye but the young man was gazing into nothingness, bobbing his head as if listening to music, ready for a night out. Then
something else caught Andrew’s attention, and he flicked his gaze to the rear-view mirror twice in quick succession.

‘Something wrong?’ Nicholas asked.

Andrew met his eye with another glance in the mirror.

‘No.’

The journey to Alkrington Wood was largely uninterrupted. A narrow crescent moon hung over the trees, casting a sliver of white light across the bitterly cold evening. Andrew almost hoped there
would be doggers out to save the day but it wasn’t a night for dangling your bits in public, unless you wanted frostbite.

Six cars were in the car park, headlights off, no one around. Outside the car, there was a scurrying from the undergrowth. Surely not more rats? Andrew couldn’t see anything but there was
more movement high above in the trees, with birds – or worse, bats – skimming around ominously. Nicholas was already a dozen steps along the path when Andrew called him back.

As a trio, they walked deeper into the woods, listening as their breaths swirled into the night. Lara hadn’t spoken since they’d left the flat but seemed to be going with whatever
Nicholas wanted to do.

Andrew wanted to try one final time. ‘Nicholas.’

‘What?’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You must do.’

‘Just go with it, man.’

‘I can’t . . . Jenny . . .’

The young man didn’t reply.

The ground was a mixture of squelchy mud-filled puddles and frozen crusts of wintered ground. Andrew allowed Nicholas to lead him deeper into the darkness, as twigs continued to crack underfoot,
with the rustling of leaves above. Andrew wondered if there were people around them, or if it was just animals. Would it matter? Unless it was a SWAT team or a bunch of ninjas, he was knowingly
walking into a trap anyway. If only Jenny had gone home when he’d told her. Deep down, he’d known she was probably going to stay late. She beat him into the office most mornings and
often needed persuading to go home. That’s why he’d asked her to call Richard Carr, rather than doing it himself – and this is where it had landed him.

A gentle orange glow was fluttering at the top of the ridge where Andrew had been with Rory the pug the previous week. Nicholas bounded up as Andrew helped a still-silent Lara. In the moonlight,
she looked wraithlike, a spirit ghosting through the trees.

Nicholas stopped at the top of the ridge, waiting for Andrew and Lara to catch up. The three of them stopped, peering down to the shallow hollow below, where six people wearing long brown robes
were standing in a circle. There were six torches planted in the ground, sparkling, fizzing flames spouting from the top, catching on the chilled air and dancing a jig.

Only one of them had the hood down: Richard Carr. There was no sign of the friendly dad jumper or loose trousers. Instead, he opened his arms, welcoming the trio of visitors. Nicholas moved
ahead first, edging slowly down the decline, Andrew and Lara a little behind. The circle opened, revealing Jenny on the ground in the centre, arms bound behind her, legs tied together. Andrew tried
to catch her eye but there was too great a distance between them.

Nicholas stopped a few metres away from the circle.

His father reached into his robe and pulled out a knife much like the one Nicholas was carrying. He knelt, pressing it to Jenny’s neck.

‘First, we’ll take whatever you’ve brought.’

Nicholas reached into his back pocket and tossed his blade onto the ground, standing with his arms out. One of the hooded figures beckoned him forward before four of them swarmed, frisking him
until they were certain he wasn’t carrying anything else. When they were satisfied, one of them pulled his arms back, tightening three cable ties around his wrists, before they stepped
away.

‘Sit,’ Richard commanded. Nicholas did as he was told.

Next Lara went through the same process. Her phone and wallet were taken before she joined Nicholas on the floor, wrists secured.

Andrew held his arms out as he felt the flurry of hands skimming through his pockets, tugging at his clothes and patting his body. He was close enough to see Jenny properly but she was staring
at him as if this was a normal Tuesday evening. They could have been sitting down for dinner or watching television and her expression would have been the same. Her lips were pressed together, eyes
impassive, unworried. That concerned him more than anything. Was he the only one who realised what was going on? Nicholas was sitting on the ground, palms flat to the earth, gazing at his father.
Andrew really hoped one of them had a plan because he didn’t.

Somebody bigger than him wrenched his arms backwards. He could feel their warm breath on his ear, their rough skin holding his arms. He thought about fighting but it was a little late. He
grimaced in pain as the first cable tie ground into his wrists. The second one hurt even more, cutting into his flesh, before the third clicked into place. He tried wriggling his arms to release
the pressure on his shoulders but there wasn’t much give.

Finally the hooded figures withdrew, tossing his wallet and phone next to Lara’s belongings and Nicholas’s knife on the ground.

Andrew joined Lara and Nicholas on the sodden earth as the circle closed around them again. He could feel the mud soaking through his trousers, not that it was high on his list of things that
weren’t going well.

Richard stood again, removing the knife from Jenny’s throat.

‘I’m glad to see you’ve returned, Nicholas. It’s what He would have wanted.’

Andrew found himself replying. ‘Who’s He?’

‘Just He.’

‘Isn’t your ritual supposed to be an eighteen-year-old every eighteen years?’

Richard laughed, waving for the others to join in, before his face hardened into a snarl. ‘You know nothing of our rituals. That is but one of the sacrifices He demands.’

‘Did
He
tell you to choose me? You could have asked anyone to do your dirty work.’

Richard turned slightly to stare at Andrew instead of Nicholas. ‘You’re a hunter.’

‘That’s just my name. It doesn’t mean anything.’

‘On the contrary, names are everything – aren’t they, Lara, my love?’