Darkmoor (6 page)

“I didn’t mean to stare,” Catherine quickly spoke.

“Ha, don’t worry about it. Being in here you forget about looking good and of course, there are no hairdressers!” Reuben smiled at Catherine.

“Right then, I think that’s everyone,” Nathan said.

At that moment, a booming knock at the wooden doors silenced them all. The fire flickered frantically as the atmosphere chilled around the camp.

Crash, boom, bang, the sound once more echoed throughout.

“Darkmoor,” Matthew whispered under his breath. Matthew’s heart began thumping hard, as the knocking became more persistent.

Matthew could feel himself becoming increasingly agitated. Catherine fixed her eyes upon him and both Nathan and Andrew gave the order for Jasmine and Claire to take everyone into their shelters.

“Quickly, to the shelters now,” Jasmine said calmly, not wanting to frighten Isabella and Thomas, who were innocently watching everyone rushing around. Catherine picked Thomas up and Claude quickly scooped Isabella up into his arms.

“Matthew! Matthew! Come on!” Catherine called down to Matthew, who was transfixed with the dancing flames of the fire.

Darkmoor’s eyes burnt into mine, as across the white misty river, we faced each other. His deep grinding voice shouted, “Matthew! Catherine! I look forward to seeing you both again soon!”

“Matthew…”Jasmine crouched down at his side. Placing her arms around his shoulders, she softly spoke, “Look at me, Matthew.”

Vacantly, Matthew looked up into Jasmine’s eyes.

“Come on, come with me,” Jasmine said gently easing Matthew to his feet.

“It’s me he wants, Jasmine,” Matthew blurted out.

Jasmine quizzed “Who?”

“Darkmoor!”

Just saying his name drained Matthew’s body of colour and energy. His eyes rolled back in his head and his heavy body flopped lifelessly into Jasmine’s arms.

“No!” Jasmine called, “Reuben help!!”

Chapter Seven

The Forgotten – Part 2

Together, Reuben and Jasmine carried Matthew’s limp body into one of
the shelters. Placing him slowly onto the floor, Reuben whispered, “Poor kid.”

“I know,” agreed Jasmine, “but you know Reuben, he spoke of Darkmoor.”

“So,” Reuben murmured as he stood peering through the tiny gaps.

“So, how does he know about him?” Jasmine asked.

“I don’t know,” shrugged Reuben.

“Look,” Jasmine started, “when we arrived here we didn’t know where we were, or who Darkmoor was, right?”

“Right,” Reuben said in agreement.

“So....”Jasmine held her arms open, anxiously waiting for Reuben to answer. “Come on Reuben!” Jasmine shouted impatiently, “how does he know!?”

Reuben looked sharply at Jasmine, “You think he’s actually met Darkmoor?”

Clapping sarcastically Jasmine grinned, “Yes, finally, flipping heck Reuben.”

“Alright,” Reuben accepted, with a somewhat vacant look.

Squatting down in a separate mud hut, Catherine and Claude clung tightly to Thomas and Isabella. Catherine didn’t know what to say, without Matthew she felt vulnerable and alone.

“So, you and Matthew,” Claude started, “are you brother and sister?”

“No, we hardly know each other,” Catherine smiled nervously, “we are sort of, well you know.”

“Friends?” Claude asked.

“Yeah I suppose so,” Catherine swallowed hard. “You see he moved in across the road and I had to go and see, even though my Mum didn’t want me too, but the crow. Well I had to know if he was ok,” Catherine paused for breath, not making sense as she spoke, “and anyway here we are.”

Claude shuffled closer to Catherine. Isabella was fast asleep in Claude’s arms, Thomas tried his hardest to stay awake, but finally gave into temptation.

Claude gently placed Isabella into one of the handmade beds. Each one consisting of green vines interwoven together and tree stumps were used to elevate the beds up, out of the mud. Isabella opened her eyes as Claude covered her little body with a smelly old blanket.

“Goodnight little cutie,” Claude whispered gently.

“Goodnight Claude,” Isabella responded in her angelic voice.

Then bending down, Claude kissed her forehead. Isabella closed her eyes once more and fell fast asleep.

“Here, give me Thomas,” Claude whispered taking Thomas’ sleepy body from Catherine. Thomas flopped effortlessly into Claude’s arms, then just had he had done with Isabella, Claude covered Thomas’ sleeping body. Catherine smiled.

Suddenly, Nathan’s voiced echoed throughout the mud huts, “It’s ok, it’s only Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?” Catherine asked Claude.

“She’s in charge.”

“Oh,” Catherine said puzzled, “I thought Nathan was.”

“Yeah, that’s what Nathan thinks too!” Claude laughed as he strolled back out towards the fire.

Everyone huddled around Sam, but Catherine stayed well back. The sound of chattering filtered up through the night sky.

“So, where are the new comers?” Sam’s Scottish voice boomed.

Catherine watched and waited for Matthew to step forward, but nothing.

The crowd in front of Catherine parted, as she walked uneasily through the camp towards Sam.

“I’m here Miss,” Catherine bowed her head. ‘Where was Matthew?’ she thought.

“You must be Catherine?” Sam asked.

Slowly Catherine lifted her head. Standing straight in front of her was a small stocky woman, whose hair was braided and pulled back from her face allowing her emerald eyes to shine.

Handing her bow and arrow to Nathan, Sam introduced herself, “I’m Sam, you didn’t come alone did you, Catherine?”

“No,” Catherine stuttered, “I came with Matthew.”

“Hum,” said Sam moving away from Catherine, “well, where is he?”

Sam stared past Catherine, noticing that a young man was standing in the doorway of the hut. Catherine quickly turned her head, glad that Matthew was at last present.

Stepping past Catherine, Sam headed towards Matthew.

Placing her arm across his shoulder she whispered, “So, Matthew, Jasmine tells me you have met Darkmoor?”

Matthew looked into Sam’s eyes. A shiver shot down his spine as she mentioned Darkmoor’s name. Opening his mouth to speak, his throat became dry.

“Listen to me, Matthew,” Sam’s soft voice turned stern, “I don’t want anymore talk of Darkmoor, we will talk afterwards, just me and you, is that clear?” Sam’s word’s sounded more like an ordered than a request. Unsure of what to say, Matthew said nothing, and giving Sam a crooked grin, he followed her down to the camp fire.

Perching himself next to Catherine, Matthew asked, “Are you ok?”

“I am now, what did Sam want with you?” Catherine lowered her voice, not wanting Sam, or the others to hear her.

“She just said she wanted to talk to me after supper that’s all,” Matthew replied casually, not wanting to unnerve Catherine.

“She just wants to talk to you, what about me? We did come together.”

“I don’t know, maybe she wants to speak to us both. She mentioned Darkmoor and then got all funny about it.”

“That’s weird, well actually, all of this is weird. What do you think is going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know,” Matthew said meeting Catherine’s gaze, “but somehow, we will get home.”

Catherine looked down, not wanting Matthew to see the disbelief in her eyes.

“Catherine, Catherine, it’s me that got us here and I swear to you, I will get us home.” Matthew spoke certainly, gripping Catherine’s hands and squeezing them tight.

“Hey you two,” Sam shouted across the camp, “Matthew! Catherine! You two ever had wolf-lizard before?”

“A what?” Catherine asked lifting her head up to look across at Sam.

“It’s one of the many creatures here, not one you would like to come across daily, but they do taste pretty good!” Sam explained as she held up one of the monsters. Sam had been out of camp hunting for food, and had somehow managed to capture one of Darkmoor’s mighty monsters, using only her bow and arrow.

“A perfect shot, straight through the heart, killed it instantly,” Sam boasted. “You see, only a bow and arrow will do,” Sam went on, “with their tongues of fire tightly rolled in their snouts, ready to whip out at any moment. Then, with one fatal strike, you would be dead!” Sam bluntly explained.

Whilst Sam had been educating everyone, Nathan and Andrew had been skinning the beast. Sam began to skewer her hairless catch ready to spit roast. The wolf-lizard’s long arms limped down into the pit of burning ash, leaving no part of the creature uncooked. Sizzling, popping and cracking accompanied the aroma of burning skin throughout the camp.

“Well, that’s supper sorted,” Sam said proudly.

Everyone began to sit back round the fire. Sam sat opposite Matthew and Catherine.

Nervously, Catherine asked her, “So, how long have you all been here, Sam?”

“I’ve been here for twelve years, Nathan, Andrew, Claire and Jasmine arrived about eight years ago. The three Afro boys arrived next, then the two wee ones, and now you.” Sam waved her hand as the smoke thickened around her.

Not being able to remain quiet, Matthew asked shyly, “And this, this is Darkmoor?”

Sam looked crossly at Matthew and a deafening silence descended around the camp. A cold draught blew up from the ground causing the flames of the fire to flicker rapidly.

Matthew could feel Sam’s eyes burning through him, but feeling an overwhelming confidence welling up inside of him, more assertively he asked again, “And this is Darkmoor?”

“How do you know that, Matthew? How do you know his name?” Sam questioned him.

The atmosphere intensified between Sam and Matthew, as everyone else remained still and quiet.

“Well!” Sam shouted, prompting Matthew to reveal all.

“Because,” Matthew started, “because he told me.” The other campers gasped in amazement at Matthew’s revelation of speaking to Darkmoor.

Sam leaned closer towards him, “Carry on,” she insisted.

Gathering his thoughts, Matthew paused for a moment, then with everyone’s full attention, he began to tell of his experience.

“Well, it all started when I moved into the Old Vicarage opposite Catherine, and there lived a crow, but only he wasn’t a crow...”

Upon telling his and Catherine’s story, Sam silently stood to her feet. Using a twig she poked the beast, clear juices oozed out of the well cooked creature and dripped on the fire, causing it to spit and hiss.

“Right everyone it’s supper time,” Sam announced causing everyone to race off to clean up ready for dinner.

“Not you, Matthew and Catherine, we need to talk!”

Leading them towards one of the huts, Sam closed the rickety door behind them and sat down upon a camp bed.

“Look you two, I have been here for years and apart from me, no one else has ever seen Darkmoor, no one.” Sam lowered her voice as she mentioned his name, “I don’t want you to cause any upset, it’s bad enough without you two stirring things up. Do you hear me?”

“But I don’t understand, what do you mean, no one else has met him? Who is he Sam? What does he want with us?” Matthew’s voice was full of desperation.

“Look, Matthew,” Sam started her voice softening, “he’s your worst nightmare. He doesn’t care how, or what he kills, it’s his way, or no way. I don’t know how or why we are here, but somehow we are. Look, I know you would love to get home, all of us would, but you have to realise that we are-”

“What Sam? We’re the forgotten?” Matthew voice rose as he interrupted her, “Sam, I have to go and find him, I have to understand why, I can’t live here forever!”

“Matthew, I will not have anyone, and I mean anyone, go over there! Do you here me!” Sam ordered, “this conversation is over!” And with that Sam stood and turned to walk away.

“No!” Matthew called to her, “no Sam it’s not! I will meet Darkmoor again and I will get home!”

Turning slowly back to face Matthew, Sam’s eyes narrowed. Matthew walked over and whispered in her ear, “You can either help me or not, but I will not be forgotten, I would rather be killed than spend the rest of my life in here. Do
you
hear me?”

Matthew looked sternly at Sam as he stepped away from her. Without saying anything else, Sam smirked before turning her back once more and returned to the camp fire.

Turning to Catherine, Matthew grabbed her arm tightly causing Catherine to motion backwards, “I will take care of you, I mean you’re mine.”

“Get off me!” gasped Catherine, “what are you doing?”

Catherine shuddered, as an unrecognisable Matthew stood before her. His eyes were pure black as they pierced Catherine’s eyes. His olive skin was now burning red with anger. Catherine silently left the mud hut.

Standing alone in the darkened shelter, Matthew couldn’t get Darkmoor out of his head. The back of his hand started to throb, and the more Matthew remembered the day’s events, the more his body drained. Laying himself down on one of the beds, Matthew closed his eyes tightly.