Ravens Gathering (33 page)

Two of the soldiers were dead.  The others would join
them, but it would take a while.  Their injuries had left them completely
disabled.  There was enough pain to make them suffer, not enough for them
to black out.  And they knew they were dying.  The misery they were
experiencing fed the Raven.

He had been distracted by the intruders.  Inflicting
that level of suffering took concentration.  But now, as they lay
helplessly on the floor or – in one case – hung from a coat hook on the wall,
his attention returned to the people upstairs in the bedroom.  As he
started up the stairs, he was still basking in the afterglow of the destruction
he’d just wreaked in the hallway.  So it took a few moments for him to
realise something was amiss.  He was nearing the top of the stairs when he
realised what was wrong.  Then he was moving hurriedly.

Reaching the doorway, his eyes only confirmed what his more
reliable senses had already told him.  They were gone.  And they
weren’t visible from the window either.  With the light on in the bedroom,
he couldn’t see anything further than half way down the garden.  He knew
they were out there, but moving away rapidly.  With an effort, he could
probably catch up with them.  It was a tempting idea.  But he knew he
had to think.  Simply giving chase might give him an immediate release,
but there was more at stake than capturing those three.  After all, in the
grand scheme of things, how important
were
they?

The one called Gates offered an opportunity to add to the
torture he’d already inflicted on that family.  It would be entertaining
to compound the suffering they’d all endured.  Entertaining, and
nourishing at the same time.  Just as it would have been if he’d been able
to play with the other two.  Although it was less than an hour since he’d
satisfied himself with Jessica Cantor, this new woman had her
attractions.  He was sure he could have managed some form of sexual
encounter with her.  The more degrading the better.  They would both
suffer.

But those needs had already been served by the intervention
of the soldiers.  Their torment had given him enough energy for now.

So the only reason to go after the others was to stop them
from bringing more people back.  Maybe more soldiers.  The Raven
didn’t know how easy or difficult that would be, and he certainly didn’t have
time to find out.

Reluctantly, he accepted that it was time to go.  His
plans had been thwarted.  How or why he didn’t know or understand. 
And he was pragmatic enough to realise that there was nothing to be gained by
looking for enlightenment.  He had failed for now.  But he had time
on his side.  Quite literally.  He could return home now.  Or he
could travel to another point in time.  Maybe even a year from now, when
all the fuss had died down, and everyone would assume it was all over.  He
could come back and start all over again.  A year from now for everyone
else, but the blink of an eye for him.

He reached inside his shirt and fingered the object that
rested against his chest.  He could go this instant.

Something stopped him, though, something that hovered at the
edge of his mind.  He couldn’t tell what it was exactly. 
Gates’s
face kept popping into view, but he couldn’t yet
make a connection.

Standing by the window, he hesitated.  Which wasn’t
like him.  He was used to decisive action.

A raven swooped down and landed on the lawn.  It stood
facing him, looking up as if waiting for orders.  Another joined it, then
another and another until they formed a large shadow in the middle of the
grass.

Less than a week had passed since the last time he was here
in the village.  Only a week.  He’d recognised the man as a Gates,
and yet he wasn’t really sure he’d been there.  The family were there,
father, mother, son and daughter.  Of course the boy was twenty-five years
older, but he’d expected him to look older than he was.  Not a lot older,
to be fair, and maybe that was why he was confused.  There had been
another boy, though.  He’d come later.  Perhaps it was him.

Time was on his side, but he knew he still had to make a
decision.

When he had planned this trip, he had always envisaged how
it would end.  In one respect, the ending was to be the highlight. 
It would be tinged with regret that he hadn’t succeeded in bringing the bomb
back with him.  But to him it seemed appropriate that he should at the
very least get the pleasure he deserved by forcing others to experience
unbearable pain.

It was time to go.  And as the thought passed through
his mind, the lawn erupted as a hundred birds rose up in unison, before scattering
in smaller groups, carrying their master’s invitations to his celebration.

The Land Rover was cramped with eight people in it. 
Mason and Croft were sitting on the floor in the back.  Ian and Tanya were
squeezed on to the back seat together with Collins.  Martin was in the
front, squashed up against Claire.  Adam had turned the vehicle round and
they were heading back down the track.

For a short time they travelled in silence.  When they
had come out of the darkness behind the farmhouse, it was clear that Collins
and the others were desperate to escape from something.  You didn’t need
to be a rocket scientist to work out what that something was.  And the
Sentinels knew that if they were discovered by the Raven, all of their efforts
over the millennia would have been wasted.  Collins had opened his mouth
to speak, but Adam had gestured for him to save it till later.  Then they
ran, leading the way back to the Land Rover.  Even getting in needed no
verbal communication.  The Sentinels knew instinctively where they needed
to be, and the others were happy to be pushed into place.

They were passing the barn conversions before anyone spoke.

“I wanted to kill my parents.”  Martin sounded
bewildered.  He was staring ahead, through the windscreen, but he was
seeing other images in his head.  The fear on his father’s face when he’d
visited him and Matt at the barns.  His mother sitting quietly in the
cottage the other night, looking so much older than he ever imagined she
would.  And her glistening body lying on the ground, waiting to be
used.  Colin bouncing into the pub like a child.  Matt’s animosity
towards him.  Janet’s refusal to look at him when he saw her.  This
was his family, and only one of them accepted him.  The one he thought he
knew the least.  And surely the only reason Colin accepted him was because
he was too simple to know otherwise.

So of course he was angry.  They’d rejected him when he
was just a child himself.  And now he was back they’d made it clear they
didn’t want him around
any more
.  They were
cold, heartless bastards, and they didn’t deserve to have him in their
family.  Yes, he was angry, and he had every right to be angry.  But
he didn’t want them dead.

He felt Claire take his hand, and that simple gesture broke
the dam he’d built over the years.

More than twenty years worth of bottled up emotion burst
out.  The pain of rejection, of missing his parents.  Now
there
was a concept that hadn’t even occurred to him.  He’d missed his mum and
his dad.  Even though they’d been there in person, they’d not been there
for
him
.  His loneliness and emptiness.  All of it came
pouring out.  There was no pricking behind the eyes and a gradual build
up.  He sobbed, grieving for the loss of the family life he knew he should
have had.

Claire put her arm around him and allowed him to do it.

When children fall over and hurt themselves, they cry. 
They let the pain out in a short sharp burst.  In that instant, adults are
convinced that they are suffering the most intense agony.  And yet,
sometimes only moments later, they can be laughing and playing as if nothing
ever happened.  The natural inclination is to assume they were making a
lot of fuss about nothing.

On the other hand, when adults hurt themselves, they hold it
in, not wanting to make a fuss.  And they don’t.  Not at that
moment.  Instead, they spend the next several hours, days or sometimes
even weeks moaning about the incident.  They cling to the suffering.

 Sometimes it’s good to let it all out.  Sometimes
it can be healing.

Claire held Martin close to her for several minutes after
the sobbing died down.  It felt natural to be this close to him.  He
had turned towards her while he cried, and his head rested gently against her
breast.  Strangely, she found it almost as comforting as she knew he
did.  Her hand rested on the back of his head, holding him in place. 
She sensed his need for succour, and she instinctively wanted to provide it.

They were in the village now, passing the row of cottages
where the Gates family lived.  The Post Office was just ahead of
them.  As they approached it, four figures appeared.  They came out
on to the pavement from the driveway at the side of the shop.  In the dull
glow of the streetlights, they were little more than silhouettes.  Claire
didn’t see them because she was focusing on Martin.  But she did notice
the Land Rover was slowing down.  She looked over Martin’s head at her
brother.

“What’s happening?”

Adam was concentrating on his wing mirror.  “The
Paynes
,” he said.  “All of them have just gone out.”

“
All
of them?”  Claire couldn’t keep the shock
from her voice.  “Are you sure?”

“I don’t see who else it could have been.”  Adam looked
across at her.  His expression was grim.

“What’s going on?” Collins asked.  He had lots of
questions he wanted to ask.  To have held off this long was commendable,
Claire thought to herself.  It had shown them his humanity.  He’d
allowed Martin his reaction, but now things were changing again. 
Unfortunately for him, they still didn’t have time to give him detailed
explanations.

“Don’t know for sure,” Adam said.  His tone was flat,
emotionless.  Claire recognised it.  For most of their lives, they
were able to enjoy a peaceful existence.  They worked and laughed and
generally got on with life.  But they never lost sight of their
purpose.  So among the work they did they trained.  They were
proficient with a wide range of weapons, from swords to clubs to guns. 
Their nature took them towards peace.  Having to take action, or confront
the effects of the Raven’s actions, meant that they each had to make a mental
shift.  Adam’s technique was to shut down all his emotions.  She knew
now that, until the Raven was gone, Adam would appear to everyone to be cold
and ruthless.  Only afterwards would he open himself up.  And then he
would suffer.  How long that lasted would depend on what he had to
endure.  It might be days, or weeks or months.  She hoped not too
long.

The village boundary was coming up ahead of them now. 
Adam swung across the road into an opening that led into a field.  Then he
reversed back out and turned towards the village centre again.

“Come on,” Collins urged, “tell me what’s happening.”

Up ahead on their right was a small housing estate.  It
had been built in the nineteen fifties, a mixture of semi-detached
bungalows.  As they approached it, three shadowy figures emerged from the
end of it and began walking into the village.  Seeing them, Adam pulled
into the side of the road.  He let the engine idle as he watched them.

“Who are
they
?”  Collins again.  “And why
are they so interesting?”

“It’s the Salthouse family.”

Martin raised himself from Claire’s breast.  “The
Salthouses?”  He rubbed the tears from his face as he looked through the
windscreen and watched them passing
The Major Oak
.  “What are they
doing?”

“He’s doing it again,” Claire murmured.

“Who’s doing what again?” Collins asked, his frustration
barely suppressed.

But Martin knew.  “He’s calling them up to the woods,
isn’t he?”

Adam nodded.  “It means he’s going, though.  We
can just let him get this over and done with, then he’ll be gone.”

With her arm still around Martin, Claire knew her brother
was right.  But she also knew it would leave even more devastation in the
village.  And she wasn’t sure how Martin would cope with the
aftermath.  She squeezed Martin’s shoulder, trying to communicate to him
that she would do everything she could to make him feel better.

In a way, she’d half-expected the response she got. 
Martin shrugged her arm away.  His head swivelled between brother and
sister, taking them both in as he spoke.

“You can’t let him get away with this.”

“Get away with....?”  But Collins didn’t complete his
question.

“We can’t expose ourselves,” Adam said.  “We’ve already
explained this.  If we do, he’ll know we’re on to him.”

“We can’t intervene,” Claire agreed, though with less
certainty.

“You selfish bastards!” Martin said angrily.  Then he
was pushing against Claire, reaching for the door handle.  “Here! 
Let me out.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to stop him.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

She didn’t answer.

He looked deeply into her eyes.  “Something else
happened up there twenty-five years ago, didn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I
am
angry at the way I’ve been treated by
my family.  But I also know how this Raven creature made me feel.  He
made me want to kill them.  And if he could do that to
me
in a
matter of a few minutes, what did he do to
them
that made them treat
me
like
that
?”

Claire looked down, unable to meet his gaze.  “I can’t
tell you, Martin.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“If I tell you, it won’t make sense.”  She looked up
again, hoping he would forgive her one day.  “Sometimes you just have to
experience it for yourself.”

“Like having kids?” Collins chipped in helpfully from behind
them.  “People can tell you everything they know about what it’s like to
be a parent, but until you experience it for yourself, you can never fully
understand.”

“Probably not the best analogy,” Claire said, “especially as
I’ve never had children.  But the principle’s right.”

The Salthouses had disappeared from view now.  Martin
gestured to the door.  “Time’s moving on.  Will you let me get out?”

Beside him, Adam sighed.  “I’ll take you up there,” he
said.  “But it’s just to save you some time.  When we get there
you’ll be on your own.”

He shifted into gear and pulled out again.