What We Saw (7 page)

We heard it.

Another sound, not too far in the distance, but not quite the same as the one we heard earlier. Less like something was dragging itself along with a broken leg, more like something hitting the ground.

Digging.

I squeezed my hands into a ball. I wanted to get away, but I knew I couldn’t. ‘Adam, I don’t know about this…’ I said, but he moved up the trail, focused on whatever was ahead.

I caught up with Adam, but he stopped suddenly and I stumbled into his back. He looked like a toy that had run out of batteries. I followed his lead as he ducked down and wondered what it was that he had seen. I tried to look ahead, but I couldn’t see for trees. He was clearly much better at this than me, not that I’d tell him. The way he carved his way through the trees and across the twigs like a predator hunting its prey was impressive. I went to pat his back again, but his hand shot out and cast mine away. His eyes were fixed on something up ahead. I squinted, looking for whatever it was he had seen.

I adjusted a bit to my left and I saw the figure ahead, hiding behind the trees, lifting their arms in the air and back towards the ground. They held something in their hands, but we were too far away to work out what. Bits of mud and dirt flew up around them. My knees shook, and my pulse battered my chest. I glanced over my shoulder again—the tracks hid behind the mass of trees.

Adam moved forward and I reached out for him again. He swung towards me and frowned into my eyes. We had to go on. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. The birdsong seemed louder, and the wind brushed the leaves with full force.

I wished Donald was here to help us out.

Still, I followed. It was still hard to make out the figure ahead, as the trees had a way of dancing in my line of sight. We didn’t want to get too close. As we snuck closer, every step felt like one foot nearer to some sort of great truth. I hoped that whoever was there would spot us and that they’d be cutting firewood. Some easy explanation. Deep down, I knew that wasn’t the case.

Suddenly, I saw their face through the trees. Adam carried on, but I froze on the spot. If someone flicked me, I’d shatter. I wanted to scream but I knew I couldn’t. My throat wouldn’t let me. My legs wobbled like strawberry laces, and I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold myself in place any longer.

Adam must’ve noticed as his hand clutched at my back like one of those claw machines at the arcades. He dragged me up and looked at me, looked at how pathetic I was. I wondered if he’d seen what I’d seen because there was no way he could stay composed if he had.

His hand hit my face, throwing me to the side. My face stung, but I knew what he did was necessary.

‘I know,’ he said, nodding his head. ‘But we’ve gotta carry on and see what he’s doing. He could be doing anything.’ He crinkled his forehead.

Before I had time to disagree, he pulled me towards a small rock that was just large enough to hide behind. The person tossed bits of ground into the air. He was the one who told us not to move things about in the natural world because it was upsetting insects’ homes. As we crouched behind the rock, Donald dug away the earth, and the large, black zip-bag at his side marked the end of the trail. Whatever was in the bag, it must’ve been heavy.

The spade hit the ground and gravel flew upwards. Donald breathed heavily, like he’d been working for a while. Adam stayed very still and stared.
We’re trapped.
My thoughts froze.

After what seemed like forever, Donald stopped digging. He collapsed, putting his head in his hands and rocking it back and forth like a child. I didn’t know what to make of this—it wasn’t like Donald. It was as if someone were in his body, like he was possessed. I remembered his weird behaviour the other day.
Just how much do we know about Donald, after all?
He came here on his own, and he was interested in mysteries, like us. Now he was in a ball on the floor, bawling like a newborn.

A part of me wanted to go to him and tell him everything would be okay. Maybe that way he’d be able to open up to us and tell us what he was doing. I don’t know. I sweated, and my hands burned. I needed to see what was inside the black bag. We both did.

Maybe it was Carla in the bag? Maybe Donald had found her and was burying her? That’d explain why he acted so upset. He loved her just as much as we did, didn’t he? Perhaps he’d found her and couldn’t bring himself to tell us about it? I looked at Adam. He continued to stare. I wondered what he was thinking. I wished Emily was here so we didn’t have to explain it all to her. Why did she have to be going out with her family today? It wasn’t fair. A part of me wished Granddad was here, too. He was a wise man, and he’d handle the situation perfectly. He’d pat Donald on the back and hug him again.

My thoughts were interrupted as Donald’s hand edged towards the black bag. He tried not to look at it. I took a deep breath, taking in the smell of fresh earth. Donald toyed with the zip on the side.

Then he started to open it.

As his hand travelled down the side of the bag, a rotten chicken stench poisoned the air. Adam gagged and covered his mouth. I wasn’t sure if I could hold my cough in. It travelled up my chest and hit the back of my throat. My toes curled at the sour taste in my mouth.

I saw her face.

She looked peaceful. Her face was so white that it looked like she’d been dipped in flour, but her skin looked slimy, like an eel. Everything about her looked peaceful except her eyes. They stared up at the sky above, as if they’d just seen a monster. I couldn’t really comprehend what I was seeing. My feet turned to stone again, and I realised I couldn’t move. My head spun. Nothing made sense.

Adam took a step back, right into me, and stopped. His eyes were wide as they stared ahead. My knees wouldn’t move. I couldn’t process anything. It was like I was watching a TV show or like it was happening to somebody else.

Donald closed the eyelids of the woman like curtains. I still saw her piercing stare, beaming upwards, etched in my mind. Donald’s chin trembled as he rubbed his hands against his cheeks and stared down at the bag. He didn’t seem affected by the smell. I saw ants scuttle up the side of the bag, ready to pick at her flesh for their new nest.

We needed to go. We were seeing something that wasn’t for us to see.

The smell slithered up my nostrils again as the wind carried it in my direction. I escaped with a little cough. Donald moved the body towards the hole, which covered up the noise I’d made. My stomach felt like it was filled with wriggling worms. I needed to go to the toilet. I needed to get out of here.

Donald pulled the bag to the end of the hole he had dug and put his foot on her side. He reached down, muttered something, and zipped the bag again, covering her face. With a struggle, he kicked her into her grave. She was gone. It was her funeral, and we were the only witnesses.

Adam jolted to his feet and grasped my arm. I had no choice but to sprint. I saw Donald look up, his wide eyes turning in every direction, trying to see what lurked in the distance, trying to find something to focus on. A target. Now was the time to get out of his crosshairs.

My legs moved, and I started to run. My knees were stiff but they seemed to be moving quickly. Any direction would do, as long as it was downhill. I took huge strides, jumping down the side, praying for the path. Twigs snapped under my feet. The sharp branches of trees scratched at my face. Somewhere behind us, I heard movement. It was probably Donald, but I wasn’t taking any time to look. We were in too deep, again, and we needed to get away.

I was so focused on my running that I’d hardly taken any time to check on Adam. He had the same idea, and we moved in sync as we pelted down the hill towards the path, wherever it may be. I looked to my right, to where Adam was, and was surprised myself to find myself keeping up with him. Adrenaline kicked in. The forest stared down on us, closing in, trying to gobble us up. The trees were the arms, the stumps on the floor its traps. Somewhere behind us, Donald followed, probably ready to kill us. Ready to put us in a black body bag, our eyes piercing holes in the sky above us. Ready to dig a grave and kick us in.

We hit the path. I wasn’t sure where exactly we were, but we had already been running for a while. I didn’t care; I let my legs take me. We bolted back to the entrance of the forest. I couldn’t stop thinking about what we had seen, and I hoped we didn’t run into anyone on the way out.
I’m dreaming, surely?
A sickly taste rose in the back of my mouth.

The laughs of old people and smell of barbecued sausages assured me that we were close to the entrance of the woods again. We had seen what lived in the belly of the woods, and now it was ready to spit us out again.

A squirrel looked on as Adam and I tore out of the woods to safety.

Chapter Eight

We sat outside on the steps of the caravan. Neither of us had moved since we got back about an hour ago. Adam kept looking up whenever a noise sparked in the distance. I picked up the little stones at my side and tossed them towards the football.

‘Do we tell them, Liam?’ Adam asked.

We also hadn’t spoken much since we’d got back. I couldn’t find the words. Adam’s question echoed what I’d been thinking for the last hour or so.

I gulped at the blockage in my throat. ‘I… I don’t know. I mean we should, but—’

‘Maybe if we ask Donald?’ Adam asked, his eyes meeting mine before turning back to the ground. It was an option, but right now, I didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy.

‘I don’t know. Did he see us?’ I asked.

Adam’s eyes wandered as he stared up at the blue sky, still not a cloud in sight. ‘No. I mean, I don’t know. It was too hard to tell. It all went so fast.’

I sighed. ‘I don’t know, Adam. I mean if he didn’t see us, maybe we can pretend it never happened.’

‘What did happen, Liam?’

The thought shot around my head. A thousand questions. I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

I stood up when Gran called for us, and we went inside, the two of us sharing a smile as I let him lead the way.

We didn’t speak much at all that afternoon. At dinnertime, Adam and I sat silent at the table like ghosts. Gran and Granddad kept going into the kitchen and whispering. I knew they were probably talking about us.

Granddad turned to us whilst digging into his chips and cleared his throat. ‘You erm… you’re alright aren’t you, lads?’

I swung round. ‘Yes. Don’t worry. We’re fine.’ I forced a smile and pretended to scratch at something on my hand, looking away from Granddad. He opened his mouth to speak again but sighed instead and turned back to the telly. Gran paced around the kitchen, shooting glances in our direction and turning away the second I eyed her back.

I felt a sharp pain hit my leg. I looked up at Adam, who frowned.

‘Could have made it a bit less obvious,’ he whispered.

I shrugged back at him. ‘Alright, see how you—’

I realised I was shouting. Adam looked behind me at where Gran stood and edged back in his seat, turning back down to the table in front of him.

‘Everything alright, boys?’ Gran asked.

Adam and I looked at each other. Adam made the move.

‘Yeah, just talking about den stuff. Liam wants a different sort of chair. I reckon it’s fine as it is.’

I curled my eyebrows up and Adam shrugged back at me. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I dunno. It should be alright for now though, I guess…’

Gran looked at the two of us as she dried a pot in her hand, shook her head, and muttered something under her breath.

‘Oh, Liam… your, erm, your dad called earlier,’ Granddad said.

The mention of Dad caught my ear and snapped me out of my trance. ‘Oh. Right.’

Granddad scratched his nose and shuffled his magazine about. ‘Yeah. He asked about you. I him told you were doing good. Den building.’ He smiled and twitched his eyebrows.

I didn’t really know what to say.

We went to bed early again that night. The crackling of rain against the roof woke me as it often did. It was still dark in the room, which meant that it was still night time. I couldn’t hear Granddad clattering around, so it must be sometime after midnight and before morning. I looked over at Adam, who lay still. It wasn’t clear if he was actually asleep or not.

I turned back towards the ceiling. I could see something small and black moving around, creeping about. Probably a spider. I didn’t mind spiders, but if Adam saw it, he’d go crazy.

I thought about what Granddad had said about my dad. It was the only thing that had taken my mind off what we’d seen since it had happened. I wondered what my dad and my mum were doing at this exact moment. Mum used to come and tuck me in and leave me some sweets when I was younger, which I promised I wouldn’t eat until morning. In the past few months though, they just shouted and fought. I’d wrap my pillow round my head and try not to listen. Try not to think.

I tried not to think now, too, but whatever I did, my thoughts kept returning to Donald. The girl. Dead. Her body like a wet stone, the sweat from her struggle now cold as ice as it gathered at the bottom of the body bag. I still saw her eyes staring up towards her fate.

I knew we should go to the police, but they’d find her soon enough. We’d just get ourselves involved if we went to them. There would be interviews and afternoons off school, and… no. It wasn’t worth it. We were safe for now.

Unless Donald saw us, that was. I clenched my eyes together and tried to picture the scene at the exact moment Adam had pulled me away. Sometimes, I saw Donald’s bloodshot eyes meet mine for a moment. Other times they didn’t. I wasn’t sure what was true. I felt sick and shaky.

The spider crawled into the corner of the ceiling, in its own little upside-down world.

The main thing that scared me wasn’t her eyes. The eyes were scary, but the thing that scared me most was that someone Adam and I had put all our trust in, all our faith, was the very source of this mystery. It was typical. If it was anyone other than Donald, we’d ask Donald for help, and he’d help us. Work out the potential motives. Let us sit in his garden. But now Donald scared me. He scared Adam too. I could tell from the way he slumped when we spoke about him.