Winter's Shadow (42 page)

‘I hope so, because once we start up the mountain it’s a one-way road. If they follow us, we won’t have anywhere to go. Do I make the turn-off?’ Jasmine nodded to the road ahead at the sign pointing to Archimedes Drive.

Winter was too flustered to answer straight away. If it was the Bane behind them, she mustn’t lead them to Blake.

‘Win?’

‘Yes,’ Winter blurted, hoping it was the right decision.

Jasmine swung the car and they began to wind their way up Owl Mountain. Winter waited anxiously for the headlights to cut the darkness behind them, positive that the Bane was on their tail. Seconds passed and the view through the car’s back window remained clear. Winter let out a sigh of relief. Nobody was following. Even so, she couldn’t shake the growing sensation that something was coming. Something was coming for her.

Winter glanced out the window, trying to calm her agitation, and watched the shadowy woods flash by. The higher they got, the more clearly Winter could see the lights of Hagan’s Bluff, twinkling through the trees like a small carpet of stars. Somewhere down there Lucy was finishing up dinner, and searching the TV channels for one of her excruciating reality programs. She was
grateful for her sister’s ignorance. If Lucy had the slightest inkling of the ordeal Winter was suffering through, she would probably have a worry-induced seizure. Nefertem suddenly tensed in her lap. A low growl issued from the back of his throat.

‘What’s got into him?’ Jasmine asked, glancing at the cat from the corner of her eye.

‘Beats me. Maybe —’ Winter’s voice was lost in the startling roar of an engine behind them. Bright headlights flooded the interior of the Mini Cooper, growing brighter as the van slammed into the back of them. Screeching in shock, Nefertem went flying from her grasp into the dark cavity beneath the dashboard. The steering wheel leapt from beneath Jasmine’s hands and she lost control of the car, sending them over the gutter and into the woods. Bouncing along the uneven ground, they struck a ridge at speed, and the Cooper launched into the air.

Caught in this moment of suspended animation, Winter saw Jasmine gripping the steering wheel, her mouth opened in shock, and then they hit the ground again on a steep angle, both thrown backwards and forwards in their seats like rag dolls. The car ploughed through the undergrowth, smashing through some of the smaller tree trunks and bushes, before coming to an awkward rest.

Winter shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness from her vision. She felt as though she’d been thrown into a washing machine and tumble-dried. Thick white steam
billowed from the sides of the crumpled car bonnet and there was an erratic ticking sound somewhere in the engine. The windscreen had been completely smashed. There was no sign of Nefertem at her feet or anywhere else. Looking across at Jasmine, she noticed with alarm that her friend’s head was hanging limply down to her chest. By the pale glow of the interior light she could see a thin trickle of blood running down Jasmine’s temple.

Winter undid her seatbelt and shook Jasmine gently.

‘Jas! Jas – wake up!’ Jasmine didn’t respond, but her chest continued to rise and fall regularly, giving Winter the hope that she was only unconscious and not seriously injured.

Winter pushed open her door and stumbled out of the car. In the distance she could hear male voices. Though they were still far away, Winter was sure she recognised one of the voices as belonging to Damien. It was the Bane! The car lights she’d seen on the road behind them must have belonged to the black van. The Bane must have turned off their headlights and approached them under the cover of darkness. It wouldn’t be long before they tracked the path of destruction the Mini Cooper had left through the forest and were upon them. Winter quickly circled around to Jasmine’s side and opened the door. She gingerly shook Jasmine’s shoulders. ‘Jas! We have to go! Please, wake up!’

Jasmine moaned softly but her eyes remained firmly shut.

‘I think I see the van!’

Winter jerked her head towards where she’d heard the voices shouting. She could see torch beams arcing through the trees not far away, and hear leaves being crunched underfoot. The Bane were coming!

‘Jas!’ Winter said more urgently, but feared there was no use. Even if Jasmine’s eyes fluttered open, her friend was in no condition to make a quick getaway. The sound of bodies crashing through the underbrush nearby forced Winter to make a difficult decision. Blake had emphatically stated that she needed to get to the church, or risk her salvation. If she stayed here a moment longer she would jeopardise that chance, and in the process endanger not only her life but Blake’s as well. She had to go.

‘I’m sorry, Jas!’ Winter said miserably and ran into the woods. Feeling like a coward, Winter pushed through the thick undergrowth, away from the crashed Mini.
What was she doing?
How could she leave Jasmine behind? Especially after everything she’d done for Winter tonight. It was the worst kind of betrayal. Winter began to turn back – maybe there was still time to reach Jasmine before the Bane did?

The sudden excited shouts of Damien and Marcus as they stumbled across the crash site stopped Winter in her tracks. She was too late. Crestfallen, she retreated from the noise, trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that Caleb had no motivation to hurt Jasmine. The Bane might have been fanatical but they weren’t sadists. Surely they wouldn’t harm an injured girl. As soon as Winter was reunited with Blake, the two of them would
come back and rescue her. She continued to hold onto this thought like a talisman, warding off the guilt that threatened to engulf her.

The sound of voices weakened as she drew closer to the road, becoming lost in the deeper hush of the woods. If Caleb and his sons were following Winter, they were doing it as silently as wildcats stalking their prey through the undergrowth. The image made Winter shiver and she quickened her pace.

Winter trudged up the mountain, making sure she kept out of sight. She stuck to the woods just beside the road – it was all too easy to imagine the Bane careening around the corner in their hellish black van, catching her in the headlights like a frightened rabbit. Occasionally the clouds parted overhead, allowing a few rays of moonlight to seep through, though generally Winter was forced to navigate in darkness. Her eyes found alarming shapes in the gloom. Once or twice she was convinced she saw a tall black shadow threading between the trees ahead of her. Of course it was just her imagination.

It had to be.

Winter reached the Heritage Centre faster than she expected to, and soon found herself wandering along the path towards the church. The woods stirred as a
strong wind began to blow from the south. The wind whipped Winter’s jacket, carrying with it the scent of the ocean, and something else . . . something electric. Another storm, perhaps, gathering strength. Winter could hear the leaves whispering in the wind, the sound calling to mind images of snakes sliding through the undergrowth.

Winter froze at the sound of a branch snapping somewhere behind the trees to her left.
It’s just an animal,
she told herself in entirely unconvincing tones.
Nothing to be afraid of. Keep walking
.

She continued along the path, her ears straining for any other sounds that might suggest she wasn’t alone. The Bane had found her once; it was entirely possible they’d find her again. Her only hope was that they wouldn’t know the location of the church.

Winter felt another stab of guilt as her worried thoughts returned to Jasmine; the sooner she reached Blake the sooner she could help her. Blake would be able to rescue Jasmine much more ably than Winter could. After all, he was a Demori, capable of winking in and out of existence at will. He could just swoop in, grab Jas and drop her off somewhere safe.

Saving Nefertem was beyond Blake’s power. Already feeling low, Winter’s spirits sank further as she contemplated the fate of the cat. Though she hadn’t seen his body lying anywhere around the crash site, it was unlikely he’d survived. Both Jasmine and Winter had been wearing
seatbelts which had stopped them from flying headlong through the windshield. The cat had no such protection. Nefertem had been her guardian and her friend, and now he was gone.

Her self-pity was interrupted by a cloud passing across the moon, plunging the woods into pitch-black darkness. Winter paused as frantic thoughts exploded through her mind –
what if she got lost up here, stumbled into the woods? There were deadfalls everywhere – she could,
would,
trip, break her leg, break her neck! Nobody would know. Nobody would come
.

Suffused with the moon’s soft blue light, the path gradually reappeared as the cloud moved on. Winter sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Panicking wasn’t going to help the situation. She needed to be brave for Blake and for Jasmine. Looking around, she recognised this section of the woods from when Mr Denning had taken her this way. Pilgrim’s Lament wasn’t far.

Knowing that she’d soon be reunited with Blake, the black doubts she’d been able to keep at bay since her flight from the Bane returned. Winter’s head (or was it her heart?) ached with the information Caleb had burdened her with. Such horrible accusations . . . all those girls murdered, their life force sucked dry. A cold sense of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She tried to reject Caleb’s words, dismiss them out of hand, but his voice wouldn’t leave her mind:
It’s his nature to kill what he loves.

Finally making it to the end of the path, Winter tentatively stepped into the clearing. Her breath caught as she was struck by the church’s haunted beauty. Pilgrim’s Lament looked like something out of a painting – the moon’s cold blue light bathed its ruined form, creating deep shadows and strange highlights. It looked unearthly and it did nothing to dispel her sense of foreboding.

Thinking back to that Sunday afternoon when she’d first stood before the church in trepidation, Winter strode on up the cracked stone steps to the doors. She was able to gain entry to the church with little difficulty, as Mr Denning and whatever work crew he’d hired had done a solid job of clearing away the fallen timber and debris from the partial roof collapse.

As Winter looked up, she was surprised to see the night sky twinkling beyond the vast ragged holes in the roof. A few stray moonbeams spilled in through these open sections, lancing through the darkness ahead of her and catching dust motes circling lazily in the air. It seemed the previous roof collapse had yielded some unexpected benefits: the church was still a place of shadows and cobwebs, but at least there was enough light for Winter to see.

‘Blake?’ Winter called out, but there was no reply. The idea of lingering in this haunted place by herself was disquieting. Without knowing she was doing it, Winter began to slowly retrace her steps towards the broken stained-glass window – the place where she’d first seen
Blake. The image of the Madonna looked even more beautiful in the cold light; however, there was a sadness to her features that Winter hadn’t noticed before. It was a similar expression to the one worn by Blake’s mother in the portrait. Sisters in sorrow.

Winter reached the window and looked out into the ruined graveyard. Blake was there! She was struck with a powerful sense of déjà vu – he was standing precisely in the same position he had been the first time she’d seen him, head bowed, solemnly regarding one of the gravestones. If it weren’t for the moonlight and the clothes he was wearing, the tableau would have been a picture-replica of that first pivotal moment.

Winter was about to call out to him when she felt an unexpected shiver of doubt pass through her. What if Blake really did mean to harm her and his whole courtship had been some kind of sick game? What if he really was the monster Caleb believed him to be? Ashamed that she was even entertaining such a possibility, Winter found her voice and called to him.

‘Blake!’

He didn’t turn, but remained standing with his back to her, staring at the grave. Further unsettled by his lack of response, Winter called out again.

‘Blake?’

She couldn’t wait for him to wake up out of whatever morose stupor he’d fallen into. Clumsily climbing out of the church window, Winter started through the graveyard towards him.