Blood Bond (6 page)

‘Whoever's firing the gun is holed up somewhere,' remarked Mark, scanning the ground ahead with his binoculars. ‘We're moving towards them, but they're not heading in our direction.'

At the top of a low rise which Mark guessed must in the right vicinity, Steven fired another shot.

‘Over here,' they heard Fergus shout.

‘What are you doing up there?' yelled Steven, who had spotted three figures high in the branches of a tree several hundred metres away.

‘Lions!' called a terrified Robert.

Mark trained his binoculars on the ground beneath the tree. Several lionesses and their cubs were asleep in its shade.

‘I wonder where Adam is?' said Steven.

Mark continued searching with his binoculars. ‘About fifty metres to the right,' he said quietly.

‘Oh God,' Steven said. A huge lion with an impressive dark mane sat at a distance from the rest of the pride, haughtily protecting his own special kill.

Jessica started crying again.

‘What I don't understand,' Steven said, ‘is why there are lions this close to Cape Town. I always understood the only lions left in
Africa were further north.'

‘There was Tygerberg Zoo, and several game ranches scattered around Cape Town to service the cruise-ship industry,' Mark explained. ‘They probably escaped and congregated down here following the pandemic — easy pickings.'

‘How are we going to get them out of the tree?' sobbed a desperate Jessica.

‘Only one thing for it,' Mark said, jumping to his feet. ‘Make as much noise as you can.'

Before Steven and Jessica could consider the implications, they found themselves running down the hill after Mark, yelling at the top of their voices. Mark and Steven fired their rifles as they ran. Robert, Luke and Fergus joined in the noise-making from their position in the tree.

The startled lionesses hurried off, followed by their cubs. Glaring, the big male took the remains of his kill in his massive jaws and began to drag it into the bushes. Mark knelt down to take aim, then thought better of it. Letting the lion take Adam's body was a more practical solution than hanging around to bury the corpse.

As soon as the lions were out of sight, the three frightened men jumped from the trees and ran towards their rescuers.

‘Why didn't you shoot your way out?' Mark asked Robert as the whole group turned tail and ran back towards the slopes of Lion's Head.

‘I didn't have enough ammunition. I'd laid my spare ammunition on the ground like my father told me.'

Mark shook his head as he ran.

At the brow of a ridge they stopped and looked back. ‘I'm completely out of ammunition,' confessed Robert, nervously glancing back down the slope.

Mark angrily handed him a clip. ‘Next time, do as you're told.'

 

Archangel
sailed two days later. The water tanks were full, but they had not gathered as much food as Mark had hoped. Not prepared to venture far from the quayside, they had had only limited success with their rifles. They had, however, set up fires on the quayside and
bottled a quantity of vegetables, and had caught a few fish in the harbour.

‘Well, there's no argument about it now,' Mark said to Steven as they released
Archangel
's mooring lines. ‘We don't have enough food to get back to New Zealand. We have to stop off somewhere — it might as well be Brisbane.'

Steven reluctantly agreed. ‘At least Brisbane will be safer than this place,' he joked. ‘We can only be mauled by kangaroos.'

Allison shot him a glance as Luke looked up from where he sat on the cabintop, his scowl matching that of his brother.

The five senior members of the Haver community gathered in the Morgans' lounge as the clock on Cromwell's Tower rang the chimes of nine o'clock. They were all exhausted: the trauma of the massacre, compounded by the twelve-hour workday they had just endured, had taken its toll.

‘We could have met half an hour earlier if you hadn't opened your big mouth,' Susan accused Paul. The strain was showing on Susan even more than on her cousins. Her sharp-featured face was haggard and her hair thinning. She spat the words out, furious that Paul's offer to man the treadmill twenty-four hours a day in return for the release of Mary-Claire had resulted in an extra half hour being added to everyone's working day.

‘He probably would have done it sooner or later anyway,' said Duncan, combing his unkempt beard and unruly mop of red hair with his fingers as he came to the defence of the nervously twitching Paul.

‘You'd have done the same thing if it had been one of your
grandchildren,' challenged Jennifer. At fifty, she was the youngest of the cousins left at Haver and the only one of the five who didn't look her age.

‘This bickering isn't getting us anywhere,' Diana snapped. ‘Nigel and his sons are the enemy, not the people in this room.' With the rebuke delivered, she took control of the meeting. ‘We've got two immediate problems to deal with: the allocation of labour, and the question of the young women. We'll deal with the organisation of labour first.'

Paul, Susan and Jennifer listened as Duncan and Diana exchanged views. Nigel had appointed Duncan to organise and allocate the labour for the estate's maintenance and the running of the gardens and farm, and Diana to organise the labour for the house. But by the end of the discussion Duncan found himself overseeing a labour allocation largely decided by Diana.

‘Now, on the other matter,' Diana said, as Jennifer made tea for the group, ‘I'm interested in everyone's ideas, of course, but at the end of the day the decisions are going to have to be made by the women involved.' Having organised Duncan's portfolio, Diana had no intention of having her own area of responsibility run by a committee, however unpalatable the task was going to be.

‘Or by Nigel and his sons,' Paul stuttered. ‘Maybe they'll each latch on to one of the women, like Miles did with Theresa, and that'll be that.'

‘Jasper and Greg have never settled on a single woman before,' Duncan pointed out. ‘Jasper in particular is always trying to put it about.'

‘They're not going to have any choice but to spread themselves around now, are they?' Jennifer said, as she handed round the cups. ‘Nigel wants as many babies as he can get.'

‘From what I hear, Greg's no real problem,' Susan said. ‘Typical kid — two minutes and it's all over. And I don't think Jasper's a problem either. Apparently he just wants to prove he's the greatest lover since Casanova. Typical man.'

Paul and Duncan squirmed in their seats.

‘The real problem,' concluded Susan, ‘is Nigel.'

Duncan looked at her hard. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Come on — surely you know. Allison was terrified of him. Didn't you ever notice the bruises?'

‘And it wasn't just the violence,' said Jennifer. ‘Allison confided in me. She didn't elaborate of course, but from what she hinted at, I'm sure Nigel's into some really kinky stuff.'

There was silence as they sipped their tea, each pondering how they might protect their own womenfolk from Nigel's attentions.

‘What about Damian?' Duncan asked.

The mood in the room grew even gloomier.

‘Well, he's hardly going to be a problem to any of the women, is he?' Diana said dryly.

‘Frigging poofter,' spat Susan.

‘It's not the fact he's gay — that's a whole different issue,' Jennifer said. ‘Some of my best friends are — were — gay. The problem is, he's a sadist like his father, and a paedophile to boot.'

‘Exactly. How are we going to protect the young boys from him?' Paul stuttered. They could all see Paul's concern for his grandsons, Ruben and Harry. He was close to tears.

‘Perhaps if we had a word with Nigel…' Duncan suggested.

‘Are you prepared to have a word with him?' Susan asked bluntly.

Duncan shook his head.

‘Me neither. God knows how he'd react to being told what a little pervert he's sired.'

‘Would it do any good anyway?' Jennifer asked. ‘Could he stop Damian, even if he wanted to?'

‘We have to find a way,' Paul pleaded, desperation in his voice.

Nobody appeared to have an answer to the Damian problem. There was silence as each wondered if they could manage to escape, perhaps simply follow Mark to New Zealand. But they all knew that would be extremely dangerous. Nigel and his sons had pursued Mark's group with weapons. There'd only be further deaths. Besides, they couldn't leave Mary-Claire. To end the silence, Susan brought the conversation back around to the ‘escort agency'.

‘As far as the younger women are concerned, it's going to be pretty academic. They're all going to have to be involved. There are three
men to satisfy — four if you count Damian — and only six women.'

‘Eight,' corrected Diana.

‘Six: Cheryl, Bridget, Virginia, Kimberley, Rebecca and Theresa.'

‘And Amy and Beatrice.'

‘What? Don't you dare offer the Chatfields those two children!' Duncan threatened.

‘It's not my decision,' Diana said angrily. ‘Nigel's already told me to put them on the list.'

‘And you agreed?'

‘Do you think I had any choice?'

‘Well, you'd better protect them,' Duncan shouted, slamming down his cup and storming out of the room. Paul scurried after him.

‘Well, I guess that's the meeting over,' Susan said as she rose from her chair and shuffled out of the room.

Jennifer remained seated and leaned closer to Diana. ‘I've got an idea.'

 

At lunchtime the next day, Diana and Jennifer took the younger women aside and acquainted them with the situation. The adult women had already resigned themselves to their plight, but the teenage twins, Amy and Beatrice, were terrified.

‘I'll protect you as best I can,' Diana promised, putting her arms around them.

‘I'll look after Damian,' Cheryl volunteered. The others looked at her, incredulous that she had offered her services. ‘I have my reasons,' she added, but didn't offer an explanation.

‘In reality, I won't be making the decisions — it will be Nigel and his sons calling the shots,' Diana explained. The sobs of the young girls were accompanied by those of their mother, Virginia. ‘But I'll do my best for you two girls.' The clock above Cromwell's Tower struck twelve-thirty. The lunch break was over. There was no time for further discussion.

As the other women left to begin their afternoon's work, Diana hurried to the staterooms. From the library window, she could see Nigel and his sons enjoying a leisurely lunch in the garden. Theresa
was serving them, scurrying backwards and forwards to the kitchens to supply their needs. Despite her role as a servant there was no disguising the elegance of the tall, long-necked young woman. From her vantage point Diana noticed Nigel attempt to force his hand between Theresa's thighs as his sons' attention was diverted. Diana quickly resumed her search through the books on the shelves. There was no time to lose. She had to find the information she needed as quickly as possible.

When she saw Nigel stand and begin to stagger drunkenly back towards the house, she hurriedly replaced the books she had been reviewing and made her way to his private quarters. She was busy making his bed by the time he arrived.

‘Well, madam,' Nigel said mockingly as he lurched into his bedroom, his spirits buoyed by the copious quantity of wine he had consumed at lunch. ‘How's the escort agency coming along?'

‘Awaiting Your Lordship's pleasure,' Diana said, trying hard not to show the disdain she felt.

‘I think I'll enjoy the company of Theresa tonight.' The words were menacing, the emphasis on the word ‘enjoy' clearly intended to add to Diana's discomfort. She could sense his pleasure at being able to dig in the knife by ordering her daughter.

‘Suit yourself,' she said, shrugging her shoulders. He couldn't hide his disappointment at her reaction, then she quickly added, ‘It'll serve you right if she gives you the clap.'

‘What?'

‘Didn't you know your son Miles gave her a dose before he died?'

She had gone too far. Nigel's fist knocked her off her feet.

‘You're lying!' he screamed down at her.

Diana struggled to her knees and shrugged again. She was lying, but she knew Nigel couldn't be sure. He turned and walked away. ‘What time shall I send Theresa up?' she called after him.

He hesitated for a moment, then without turning replied, ‘Send one of Virginia's twins instead.'

‘No! Not them, I hadn't…' Diana's voice trailed off.

‘No, send them both — eight-thirty sharp.'

Diana was still picking herself off the floor as Nigel's three sons walked past the door and looked in.

‘Walk into a door?' sniggered Damian, seeing her wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth.

‘Yes, Sir Damian.'

Jasper had noticed his father's clumsy attempts to fondle Theresa over lunch. ‘I suppose His Lordship has made his choice — Theresa, of course?'

‘He's made his choice, Sir Jasper, but it's not Theresa.'

‘I'll have her then,' Greg said quickly. Diana knew Greg had envied Miles. She guessed the young man, still smarting from the fact his father had denied him his dead twin's room, was determined that he would at least inherit Miles's woman.

‘Of course, Sir Greg. What time shall I send her up? Nine o'clock?'

‘Eight,' Greg replied eagerly.

Diana was pleased with herself. Not only had she protected her daughter from Nigel, but Theresa had ended up with the least troublesome of the three Chatfield brothers. With any luck Theresa would be safely tucked up in her own bed by eight-thirty. She felt sickened, though, that Nigel had demanded the young twins.

‘And tell me, madam, who do you recommend for my delight?' beamed Jasper. He could have chosen one of the women himself, but it was much better sport to put Diana on the spot.

‘For you, Sir Jasper? How about the delectable Jennifer?'

‘What, that old boot!'

‘A very apt metaphor, Sir Jasper. A woman is, after all, like a pair of boots. An old pair is far more comfortable than a new pair being broken in. From what I've heard, Jennifer will be able to show you things about the art of lovemaking that you've never dreamt of.'

‘Many a fine tune played on an old fiddle,' Damian quipped.

‘Jennifer has forgotten more about sex than you've ever known,' Diana added, noticing a bulge growing in Jasper's pants.

‘We'll see who can teach who what,' boasted Jasper. He knew Jennifer was not supposed to be on the roster because she was past child-bearing age, but the hint made by Diana had aroused his
interest. ‘Send her up at eight-thirty sharp.' He slapped his brothers on the back as he led them towards the door.

‘What about you, Sir Damian?' Diana called after them. The brothers hesitated, then Damian turned and walked back towards her as Jasper and Greg hurried off. Diana guessed they didn't want to hear his answer.

‘Who's left?' he snapped.

‘I've had a special request for you, Sir Damian.'

‘Who?' he asked, clearly surprised.

‘Cheryl.'

‘You're joking!'

‘I'm certainly not, Sir Damian.' This time Diana was telling the truth. Damian looked puzzled, but attempted an imperious smile.

‘Send her up at ten o'clock.'