Ravens Gathering (35 page)

It had been a disappointing day.  But now it was time
to move on.  He had things to do back home, and he wasn’t going to achieve
anything here at this time.  For now, he would use these people to build
up his energy levels.  He didn’t need the energy to travel, but he knew he
might need it when he got back.

He stood to one side of the fire and watched the spectacle
before him.  Naked bodies obeying his every command.  Not that he
said a word.  His will was stronger than that of all the other people in
the clearing combined.  Effortlessly, he bent their minds, twisting them
into shapes they couldn’t possibly comprehend.  Much to his amusement -
and their horror.

And now the revulsion they felt at their own actions flowed
into him.

The Salthouse family.  Their eldest daughter, Monica,
had been here last time, and they were remembering her now, the grief tearing
them apart.  Images of her hanging in a barn.  She had only been able
to find orange binding twine.  Her strangulation had been long and
painful.  Their other daughter, Teresa, was with them tonight. 
Nearly thirty, she was on her knees at the side of her mother, trembling
because she already knew her fate and, no matter how much she wanted to, she
couldn’t scream or cry for help.  To add to their pain was the guilt over
Peter, still lying in hospital, kept alive with machines and a continuous flow
of morphine.  The son who was conceived at a similar gathering twenty five
years earlier.

The Payne family.  Helen contained within a circle by
her parents and sister, Linda.  They were holding hands and dancing round
her, flesh rolling and bouncing as they moved; their faces screwed up as they
hurled abuse, calling her names that were incomprehensible to her.  They
were shouting over each other, so most of their words were incoherent. 
Yet she had a sense that they were blaming her for them being there, even
though they seemed to be doing this of their own free will.  Naked and
profane, leaving her bewildered and frightened.  She wanted to push her
way out of the circle, but was held in place by some invisible force.

The Walker family.  Frank and Elizabeth locked together
as their daughters looked on.  The girls stood on either side, their faces
clearly expressing their disgust at what they were witnessing.  Hard as
they tried, they couldn’t close their eyes, hadn’t so much as blinked since it
began.  Elizabeth’s gaze was drawn to Catherine.  The poor girl was
sobbing, her hands raised to her face, but not enough to cover her eyes. 
Elizabeth knew why.  The Raven wanted her to see the webbed fingers, and
experience the shame that went with them.

The Dakin family.  Tears coursed down Derek Dakin’s
cheeks.  He had lived with humiliation for a long time.  He’d
understood that his wife hadn’t been in control of herself when she’d conceived
Ronald.  On a rational level, he could acknowledge it.  Especially as
he himself had committed unspeakable acts that night.  But those acts
lived on only in the memory.  Ronald’s birth was a permanent feature of their
lives, a living, breathing reminder of what had happened.  And his
disability only served to underline it.  So he’d never been able to
forgive Joyce.  And that was why she swallowed the painkillers. 
His
fault.
  And he’d been left to bring up the little bastard.  He
looked at him now.  Ronald was facing him, and slightly to one side of him
stood Stephen, Derek’s son.  The first-born.  He hated them both,
resented their very existence.  Without warning, they both reached out and
grabbed him, each one taking an arm.  Startled, he instinctively tried to
resist, but all his energy was gone.  Then they were pulling him, and with
a shock he realised they were taking him towards the fire.

The Gates family.

Matthew had tried to resist the call when it came.  The
“caw” of the Ravens had triggered something buried deep in his mind, and he’d
instinctively known what it was.  As if expecting to be clutched by a
Star
Trek
style tractor beam, he’d thrown himself on to the sofa and stretched
himself out, grabbing one of its arms with his hands, and gripping the other
with his toes.  Now, standing in the clearing, he had been feeling stupid
about that from the moment he had let go and stood up again.  But maybe
that was good.  Because if he focused on that embarrassment, maybe he
would forget the true source of his shame.

He looked at his mother, and knew that wasn’t going to
happen.

Colin was confused.  That wasn’t an unusual state of
affairs for him, but he recognised that this was really something very
different.  For a start, he wasn’t used to seeing his parents naked. 
Nor, for that matter, had he regularly seen either Matthew or Janet in a state
of undress.  And then there was everyone else up here.  He’d gone to
school with some of these people.  But in all those years of schooling,
he’d never seen Catherine or Helen without clothes on.  He might have seen
Ronald in the showers after PE, but he wasn’t even sure about that.  PE
hadn’t been one of Colin’s strengths.  He never seemed to understand the
rules.  So he was excused more often than not.  Anyway, it was
definitely odd to see them like this.  It was giving him a peculiar
feeling.  There seemed to be a strange tension coming from between his
legs.  He saw his mother lying on the ground, her private area towards him. 
Curious, he began to move towards her.

The Raven felt the torment pouring out of them, absorbing it
and letting it wash over him.  It was like being in a Jacuzzi, both
relaxing and stimulating at the same time.  A time to savour.  Then
he felt a new stab of pain from the edge of the clearing and he turned to see
Martin watching.  The look of horror gave the Raven an additional surge of
energy.  Having a witness to events was going to give the experience an
extra, delicious edge.

Images came spilling into Martin’s mind, a montage that he
would have preferred to be less graphic.  Especially as he was faced with
more than enough explicit stuff from where he was standing.  But the
combination of memories and real-time spectacle gave him context.  It
wasn’t pleasant, but it made sense at last.

His mind had suppressed the true horrors, hidden them from
him.  The dreams had tried to express them, but still hadn’t been
enough.  And maybe, in a way, his mind had done him a favour.  In
truth, he would have preferred not to know.

But now he did, he could do something about it.

He had been angry earlier, and afraid that his anger would
only serve to help the evil creature responsible for this atrocity. 
Instead, he instinctively felt a completely different emotion.  Claire had
been right.  Now he was here, he knew exactly what to do.  He began
walking again, crossing the last few yards to the clearing.

Ahead of him, he saw Colin dropping to his knees in front of
their mother’s feet.  Matthew had moved beside her and was looking
down.  But between them and Martin his father was standing with his back
to him.  Patrick was behind Janet, his hands apparently roaming over the
front of her body, touching places no father had a right to.

Martin reached them in three strides.  He rested his
hand on Patrick’s shoulder, making the older man jump.  When he turned to
see who’d touched him, his face crumpled, and Martin recognised the reaction
for what it was.  He pressed his mouth against his father’s ear.

“I know you don’t want to do this.  He’s making you do
it against your will.  I forgive you.”

Patrick began to tremble as tears flowed freely from
him.  Janet felt the change in movement, and looked over her
shoulder.  When she realised Martin was there, her face reflected her
terror.  Martin touched her cheek gently.  She flinched as if she
expected him to strike her.

“I am so sorry,” he said.  “I won’t pretend to
understand exactly how you’re both feeling right now.  But, believe me, I
do know you’re not responsible.  I forgive you.”  He put his arms
around their shoulders and squeezed them, hoping they would feel the love he
felt for them both in that moment.

Then he let go and moved on.  Matthew and Colin were
with their mother.  When he stopped next to Matthew, all three became
aware of his presence at the same time.  The reactions from Anne and
Matthew were predictable.  Colin’s was tragically comic.  Looking up
from what he was doing, he beamed at his brother.  His expression was like
that of a small child about to go on a fairground ride for the first time: a
mixture of pride and apprehension.

Dropping down into a crouch, Martin avoided looking at his
mother’s body.  He rested a hand on his younger brother’s head and ruffled
his hair playfully.  It didn’t seem appropriate under the circumstances,
but he needed Colin to feel good about himself.

“I will always be proud of you, no matter what,” he said
carefully.

He looked away, turning his attention to Matthew and
Anne.  “And the same goes for both of you.  Now I know why you
treated me the way you did.  You were embarrassed and ashamed.  God
knows, if I’d experienced this, I would have felt the same.  You must have
been scared shitless that I’d remember it all.  Or maybe you thought I did
remember it and just wasn’t saying anything.  I’m sorry you’ve had to go
through this.  I know it’s not your fault.  I forgive you all. 
For this, and for every time you’ve hurt me.  Because you were really
trying to protect yourselves.  And I guess you were also trying to protect
me too.”

“Oh, Martin, I’m so sorry,” Anne said, her voice quavering.

“I know you are.  But really you have nothing to be
sorry about.”

“Bloody hell!” Matthew said abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”  But even as he asked, Martin realised
his brother was looking downwards.  Following his gaze, he felt relief
wash over him.

Then they were laughing, the two brothers rocking
backwards.  Colin knelt up to watch them, puzzled by the sudden change of
tone.  He wanted to join in, but didn’t understand the joke.  Then
Matthew pointed to Colin’s groin and he looked down to see his own
flaccidity.  He still didn’t fully understand why it was funny, but
started laughing all the same.

Looking around him, Martin reached out and patted both
brothers on the shoulders.  “I’ve got to help the others, but remember
that I love you.”  He gazed into his mother’s eyes for a moment. 
“All of you.”

He stood up.  The Raven was still standing in the same
place.  He was staring at him, a mystified look on his face.  Martin
smiled and nodded as if in greeting, which only added to the Raven’s
perplexity.

The family nearest to him were the
Paynes
. 
He didn’t have fond memories of them.  They’d never made him feel welcome
in the shop.  For the first time, he was beginning to understand
why.  They’d seen him that night in 1964.  They knew he’d seen them,
and they were afraid of what he might say.  To them or to others.

Only a few paces and he was alongside Mr Payne.  After
all these years, they had kept him at such a distance that he’d never even
heard him called by his first name.  The realisation saddened him. 
Both for himself and the
Paynes
.

“You have no need to fear me,” he told John Payne
gently.  “I know this isn’t your doing.”

His gaze turned to Mrs Payne, who seemed to have recovered
herself sufficiently to make an attempt to cover her breasts.  He focused
on her face, not wishing to cause her any more discomfort.

“I’m here to help,” he said simply.  Her lips trembled,
yet they curved upwards slightly at the corners.  As tears began to flow,
he knew they were accompanied by a sense of relief.

There was a more urgent need just beyond the
Paynes
, though.

Derek Dakin hadn’t aged well, but looked sufficiently
similar for Martin to recognise him.  He also recognised imminent danger
when he saw it.  His two sons were only a few feet away from the fire, and
it was clear from the way all three were struggling what their intentions were.

A quick glance around told Martin that there were dangers
for the others too, but this one was more serious.  He didn’t run. 
That might startle people, and he didn’t know what the implications of that
might be.  It also might prompt the Raven to take some action.  So he
walked towards the
Dakins
, trying to hurry without
being too obvious.

“Is that Steve?” he asked conversationally, as he approached
them.  The older Dakin brother looked over his shoulder.  “Didn’t you
used to go to school with Matt?”  Having grabbed his attention, he wanted
to distract some more, so he gestured towards his own brother, still kneeling
on the ground a few yards away.

Stephen Dakin’s eyes widened as he realised who was speaking
to him.  Martin closed the gap and rested his hand on Stephen’s naked
shoulder.  “I know what’s happening here, Steve.  And I know what
happened last time.  You have nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s not
your fault.  You’re being made to do this, just as you were made to do
things before.  I’ve forgiven my family for everything they’ve done. 
You should forgive yourself.  And let your dad have the chance to forgive
you too.”

“He’s had his chance,” Stephen said sharply.

Martin nodded his understanding.  “Perhaps he has,” he
said, and rested another hand on Derek’s shoulder.  “But perhaps you
needed an outsider to forgive you first.  Is that right, Derek?”

And Derek collapsed, all resistance falling away.  The
sudden change caught the brothers by surprise, the dead weight pulling them all
down to the ground in a heap.  They were still close to the fire.  It
wouldn’t take much to push Derek on to it.

“What do you think you are doing?” a horribly familiar voice
demanded from close behind him, and Martin felt his stomach lurch.