Never Never (28 page)

S
haun came
into the room like a robot, stiff legged and dull. He knelt by Saoirse's body. His face was white with shock and disbelief.

He crouched between the door and Sarah and Damian.

No way out but through him.

Sarah licked her lips. Should she tell Damian to run? Or to hide under the bed?

Shaun had a gun. That trumped Sarah's nothing. By a lot.

She scanned the room but the only weapon was Saoirse's knife and she was laying on that.

“I'll make you pay for this,” Shaun said in a soft voice. “You've now killed everyone I love, you filthy, Yank bitch.”

“Not quite everyone,” Sarah said. “There's still Ava.”

He looked at her, his eyes hooded. “You're not fit to say her name.”

I have no weapon. No avenue of escape. No shoes…

And saving Damian only counts if he lives to walk out of this room.

She had to get Shaun to put the gun down or at least exchange it.

“Your sister was crazy, Shaun. Everyone knows that.
You
know that.”

He turned his head toward her and his eyes were wet.

“Don't talk about her!” he snarled.

“She said shooting was too good for me. She was going to cut me up like some psycho bitch from a bad horror flick.”

He hesitated and glanced back at Saoirse. And then his gun.

That's right, Shaun. Connect the dots. Put the gun down.

“I was going to save you for last,” he said as if speaking to Saoirse. “But circumstances change.”

Sarah watched him and for a moment she wondered why she thought an attack by a hundred and sixty pound man with a knife was any better than being shot at close range.

But she had
no
chance with the gun.

“Damian,” she said calmly. “Listen to me.” She didn't dare take her eyes off Shaun to look at the boy.

“Do you hear me?”

“Aye,” the boy whispered.

“When the bad man attacks me I need you to run, do you hear? Don't wait to see what happens. Just
run
.”

“Where?” Damian asked breathlessly.

The fifty million dollar question.

“What a clever lad you are,” Shaun said as he put the gun down on Saoirse's dresser and picked up the butcher knife from the floor. “You're smart enough to know there is nowhere to go. And you mind well too, which is why I know you won't make me chase you, eh?”

Without any further warning, Shaun flung himself at Sarah, slashing the air in front of him with the carving knife. Although she was waiting for it, she wasn't ready. She fell from the bed, twisting fiercely away, trying to avoid the deadly slashing blade.

“I'll eat your baby first, you malicious bitch!” Shaun screamed, his teeth bared like a wild animal. His breath was rancid. He smelled like he'd recently eaten.

She battered him with her hands, and desperately tried to bring her knees up under her.

“Hold still, you fecking bitch,” Shaun screeched as he grabbed her hair with one hand and yanked her to a sitting position on the floor. “This is for Saoirse, do ye hear me?”

Sarah jabbed him hard in the eye with two fingers.

He roared with fury and she raised her head and slammed it against his face as hard as she could, twice in fast succession.

“Goddamn you!” he screamed. He pulled the knife back like he would throw a punch. Sarah was pinned under him, gripped in place by his knees, nowhere to go, nowhere to maneuver.

An image of John came into her head. She closed her eyes.
I love you…

Shaun grunted and his head fell forward onto her chest. Standing behind him Sarah saw Damian holding the handgun by the barrel, ready to hit him again. Shaun moaned and put a hand to his head.

His other hand still held the knife.

Sarah tried to scramble out from under him but he was too heavy.

“Give it to me!” she screamed.

Damian pushed the gun over Shaun's shoulder, handle side toward her. She slipped her fingers into the trigger guard, and pressed it against Shaun's chest just as he brought his knife up again. She pulled the trigger.

Shaun jerked once. His eyes flew open in surprise. Sarah shot him again. And again.

By the time she got to her feet, holding the gun in both hands, Shaun was face down on the floor next to his sister.

She looked at Damian. His eyes were wide.

“Someone's coming!” he said.

“Get behind me,” Sarah said and pointed the gun at the doorway. “If we have to shoot every mother…person in this castle—”

The door burst open and Mike filled the opening with Gavin right behind him. Mike's eyes went from Sarah to the two bodies on the ground.

“Holy Mother of…Sarah!”

“They're holding the others in the dungeon,” she said, gasping. “You have to hurry…”

“The dungeon?”

“I know where they are!” Gavin said and disappeared out the door.

Mike pulled the gun from her hands and she sagged to her knees. He wrapped one arm around her and pulled Damian into a hug with the other.

“You did well, lad,” he said in a hoarse whisper with his eyes on Sarah. “Ye both did.”

F
iona watched
as Margo turned the gun onto her cell. People were dying. Everyone was screaming and still the relentless noise of the men smashing the locks with their boots resounded over all else.

She tucked Ciara behind her and crossed herself, thinking only of Declan and how she would see him soon. She straightened to her full height as Margo lined her up in her scope and then pulled the trigger.

It clicked empty. Margo cursed and pulled another cartridge from her jeans pocket and slammed it into the rifle just as Robby smashed open the far cell door. Margo turned her rifle on him and shot him as he was coming out the door. But there was another one right behind him.

Fiona watched with a sickening feeling of mounting hope and she tried to push it away.

No, it's a trick. We can't win. We can't get away!

The gunshots came one after another now,
boom-boom-boom
like a repeating rifle. It wasn't until Fiona watched Margo jerk rudely as if pantomiming a grand mal seizure that she realized the shots weren't coming from Margo's gun.

Margo fell onto her face, her body drilled with bullets, as Gavin stepped into the room.

“Gavin…” She spoke so softly that he didn't hear her.

Nuala rushed out of her cell. “My Damian—”

“He's okay. Sarah got to him in time,” Gavin said.

Nuala let out a long moan and crumpled to the floor. Her boy Dennis was behind her with a hand on her shoulder and the baby in his arms. Robby sat up, his face streaked with blood.

A gasp of horror made Fiona turn to see Frank kneeling on the floor with Catriona's body in his arms. Siobhan was crawling toward Fiona.

Fiona scooped her up and knelt to draw Ciara into her trembling arms.

The room was filled with cries of relief and cries of grief. Gavin's voice was deep and questioning under it all. The babies howling was louder than anyone else's.

Ciara tugged on Fiona's sweater. “Hungry, Mummy,” she said. “Now, please?”

Fiona stared into the petulant face of her tired and hungry child and bit back the irrational bubble of laughter that threatened to escape.

A sound she was sure would echo unmercifully against the stone walls of a castle dungeon.

T
hat night
the men of the castle moved the four bodies to the room where Fiona had sat with Beryl and Declan's body two weeks earlier. Four bodies. Saoirse, Shaun, Margo and Catriona.

Kevin had taken a bullet in the leg which had needed to be dealt with immediately, and Robby was shot in the hand although the bullet had gone straight through. Liddy's forehead was creased by a ricochet but otherwise there were no other serious injuries.

Mary stayed in the clinic with Kevin nursing him after the bullet was removed. Everyone else ate a meal of wine and leftover cold rabbit because nobody was up for cooking. Then they all retired for the evening.

The remaining members of Shaun's group—eleven women and two children—were easily locked in their rooms for the night.

Sarah sat in her room, Siobhan asleep in her arms, and watched Mike undress with all the exhaustion of a man who'd just run a marathon. His initial plan had been to turn the women out immediately into the night but temperatures had dropped and it had begun to rain.

Sarah wasn't sure they should be turned out at all. Their crime was really one of passive acceptance of the horrors of their leader. But they'd all known what was going on.

So there was that.

Sarah thought back to the evening meal—how loud the room had been with everyone laughing and talking at once. There were tears, too. They had lost dear Catriona after all, who left behind a four-month-old baby daughter. Nuala's boys were quiet too. Especially Damian who'd spent most of the evening sitting at Nuala's feet with his arms wrapped around one of the dogs. Sarah noticed Mike talking to him at one point. She knew he'd keep an eye on him going forward.

And then there was Fiona.

As terrifying as the day was, it somehow served as a catalyst to push Fiona out of her malaise. For the first time since they buried Declan, she showed signs of coming back to them. To lose a husband was a terrible thing and nobody knew that better than Sarah. But the day would come when Fiona would love again and laugh again. And her memories of Declan would be bittersweet. But mostly sweet.

M
ike groaned
as he sat down on the bed. It was well past midnight. He had bathed before coming to bed.

“You never told me why you didn't wait for Shaun to let down the drawbridge for you. What made you suspicious?”

Mike rubbed his face with both hands and leaned back on their bed as Sarah settled the baby in her cot and tucked her in.

“His reason for why we couldn't come inside didn't ring true,” Mike said. “I mean I could well believe something was the matter with the fecking door but when you added it up with all the other things that didn't make sense, it set off alarm bells.”

“What other things?”

“Like the fact that everyone in the castle was malnourished but not underweight. And how they said the area was hunted out but Gav and I always found plenty to trap. Plus they never planted a garden. And then there were the dogs. Most people nowadays have trouble feeding themselves, but this lot had
pets
. So how were they all eating?”

“So you always thought they might be cannibals?”

“Let's just say it crossed me mind.”

“You acted like he was your long lost brother the way the two of you celebrated after the battle.”

“Aye, well, to an American I can imagine it looked exactly as it was supposed to.”

She sat down next to him on the bed. “Tricky Irish bastard.”

He kissed her on the mouth. “And don't you forget it.”

“So once you knew there was something fishy going on,
how
exactly did you get in?”

“Beryl knew all the castle's secrets and she'd never had a more eager audience than Tommy and Gavin.”

“So there was
another
way in besides the secret tunnel?”

“Not a very pleasant way. It has to do with the castle sewer system but aye. I figured if I was wrong the worst that would happen was I'd be little embarrassed. When we got inside and I heard the gunshots, I knew I wasn't wrong.”

“You came just in time.”

“Nay, lass. We came too late for Damian. If you hadn't gotten to him when you did the lad would have died. Until I heard the gunshots, I had no clue which way to go.”

Sarah's eyes closed sleepily as she snuggled next to him in the bed, trying to stay awake long enough to focus on the warmth and comfort of the moment.

“You know what's weird, Mike? After all that's happened, I think you were right after all.”

“Now those are words a husband doesn't hear very often. How so?”

“I think we're safe here. In fact I think it would take a miracle to get in and most people aren't like us. They're not so stubborn that they'll cling to a wall like a human fly with a nest of jagged rocks below or swim through human waste to get inside or continue to kick at a locked door while some maniac shoots at them. You know?”

“By God, I think you're right.

And even though it hurt like fire because of the cut on her stomach, Sarah laughed and laughed. And the feeling of being safe—and even a little invincible—drifted over like the best drugs money could buy, and with her husband's strong, loving arms around her, she fell asleep without a care in the world.

T
he next morning
the snow had stopped. Mike had approved a hearty breakfast for everyone—castle women included—but it was a somber affair. All of the women ate staring at their plates and Sarah could well imagine most of them were wondering where their next meal would come from.

At one point in the morning she debated trying to talk Mike into letting them stay but decided against it. There was only room for one hundred people in the castle to be sustained comfortably, and while it was true they didn't have nearly that many yet, it did occur to Sarah they might hand pick their community going forward.

And those people with a history of eating their neighbors would probably not make the cut.

The plan this morning was that
all
the people in the castle would join together to bury their dead. After that, the eleven castle women and their children would begin their walk down the road—never to return.

Sarah held Siobhan in her arms as they walked out of the castle heading toward the garden cemetery that they were quickly filling up. She saw Ava in the group ahead of her. Her eyes were downcast and her little girl's hand was tightly in hers. Both were dressed warmly. Sarah had given instructions for the women to have a bundle of whatever meat, bread and ibuprofen they could spare.

Isn't this what I was afraid would happen? That we'd invade a castle and throw the people out to starve or be murdered?
But the thought wouldn't gel.
These
people were the murderers, Sarah reminded herself. Better that the people they meet should be mindful of
them
.

“All right, love?” Mike came up behind Sarah and put an arm around her.

“I'm good,” Sarah said. “Sick of funerals though.”

“Aye. This should last us awhile.”

Nuala spotted Sarah in the crowd and waved. Sarah grinned.

“Nuala's so happy,” Sarah said.

“There's nothing like nearly losing your most precious treasure to help you focus on what's important.”

Sarah looked into Siobhan's sleepy face. “You're exactly right,” she said. Mike had promised her last night that they would go back to the convent first thing in the morning. The thought that every step was now taking her closer to John buoyed her heart like nothing she could ever remember feeling.

She was so sure she would see him. She couldn't even entertain the possibility that he wouldn't be there.

“I'll go help the lads,” Mike said, “if you're sure you're okay.”

“I'm fine,” Sarah said.

“Aye, ye are,” he said, kissing her before turning away.

Sarah watched as the group arranged themselves near where the bodies would be lowered into the ground. She could see Mike standing heads and shoulders above the other men and giving directions. She couldn't help but grin.

“Sarah,” a small voice said and Sarah turned to see Ava standing at her elbow. “I wanted to say sorry.”

Ava's face was white with dark circles under her eyes. Sarah felt a twinge of guilt for what she and Mike were doing to her. And then she remembered…

“You ran to get Shaun when you saw me in the hall, didn't you?”

Ava looked beyond the group toward where the bodies waited to go in the ground.

“I have no defense. I loved him.”

Sarah rearranged Siobhan in her sling and winced as she shifted the baby across the shallow cut Saoirse had scored on her stomach. Not enough for stitches, but still painful.

“Did Mike tell you Keeva and the other children could stay?”

“He did and I thanked him. But a child needs her mother. She'll be better off with me.”

Some people can convince themselves of anything.

“Catriona died last night partly because of you. She leaves a baby not four months old. So I agree with you, Ava, that a child needs her mother but thanks to you, Teagan doesn't have one. ”

“You have every reason to hate me.”

“I don't need you to tell me that.”

Ava turned and gazed back at the castle walls and her eyes filled with tears.

“This castle has been my home for nearly five years.”

“It's my castle now,” Sarah said coldly.

Ava nodded. “I know,” she said as she turned away. “I just wanted to say sorry.”

Sarah watched her move to the front of the group. She knew Ava mourned Shaun maybe even more than she mourned the loss of a warm, safe home.

But when Sarah tried to feel regret or guilt over throwing Ava and the rest of them out into the cold, the image of that mountain of bones in the castle basement—some as small as Siobhan's—jumped to her mind. And then she couldn't feel anything at all.

T
he day
after the castle folk left broke sunny and cold. It was early December and already the women were planning Christmas and the spring garden. Work details were created to remove the branches, debris and weeds in the garden that five years of neglect had generated. There would also be a second garden inside the castle walls where the lawn and courtyard were now. They had the seeds that Sarah had brought back from the States the year before and Mike and Sarah would bring back more from the compound.

Nuala stood in the courtyard with Siobhan in one arm and little Darcy in the other. The boys Damian and Dennis, who were deemed old enough to help Gavin with the horses, were in the stables working with him.

Mike checked and double-checked the harness on the two horses attached to their biggest wagon. Sarah knew he didn't like traveling just the two of them. He would have preferred to bring Gavin or someone to ride shotgun—literally. But there was so much work to do at the castle to get ready for winter that they couldn't spare even one man to come with them.

“I'll take good care of her, Sarah,” Nuala said, giving Siobhan a squeeze. “You're not to worry while you're gone.”

“I know,” Sarah said. “I'm not worried.” Sarah tweaked Siobhan's cheek and ran her hands down her jeans as if she could rub off her extra energy. She was so excited to finally be going that it was all she could do not to jump in the wagon and grab the reins and race out the front gate.

“Mike says it'll take us at least five days to get there.”

“That'll be hard going after four weeks sleeping in a warm bed with a fireplace at your feet, I'll wager,” Nuala said.

“Nothing feels warmer to me than knowing I'll see John soon,” Sarah said. “Not even a fireplace as big as the ones in the grand dining hall.” Nuala nodded but didn't smile. Sarah knew Nuala worried about how Sarah might react if John wasn't at the convent.

She shouldn't worry about that.

He'll be there. He has to be.

Fiona came out to the wagon with her hands holding a basket.

“You know we're trying to travel light,” Mike said to his sister, “so that we have room to cart stuff back.”

“This is for the road,” Fiona said. “Blankets and water and the like. Do you have a lighter? A lot easier to build a fire if you have a lighter.”

“Thank you, Fiona,” Mike said with exaggerated patience. “We have everything we need. Ready, Sarah?”

“You never said what you'll do after that,” Nuala said as she walked with them to the wagon.

“After the convent,” Mike said, “we'll go to the compound and pack up as much as we can carry.”

“What about the nuns?” Fiona said. “Won't you bring them back too?”

“If we find them,” Sarah said. “And they want to come.” She climbed up to the wagon seat and nodded to Terry standing by the crank on the drawbridge even before Mike was seated.