Entwined (21 page)

CHAPTER 21

‘Ye Olde Starre Inne’, York - 21st December, Modern Day

The journey was quiet and uneventful; all three silently pondering the dangers of their venture. Arriving at the pub, Harry hurriedly unlocked the door while Kate cast her eyes nervously around the courtyard. A thick layer of ice covered the concrete paving slabs. Long spear-like icicles hung from wrought iron coaching lights. Empty hanging baskets swung ominously from brackets on the roughly plastered wall that divides the ‘Evil Eye Lounge’ and ‘Ye Olde Starre Inne’. Even the moss-covered clay tiles of the building lay buried beneath a sheet of ice. She glanced down at the steel checker-plate cellar hatch under the front window knowing that in a few minutes they would pass through that cellar into the tunnel.

Not a word was said as they made their way through the front door and down into the cellar. Once in the tunnel they flicked the flashlights to illuminate the familiar darkness.

“Where is it?” Harry asked, turning to Kate.

“It’s deeper in,” she replied, “about halfway, actually.”

An ominous foreboding hung in the damp air as they wandered deeper into the tunnel. They walked slowly, more cautiously than they had ever done before, their eyes flickering with fear at every sound.

“There!” Kate shouted in an exaggerated whisper, lifting her light towards the ceiling. A piece of slate no bigger than a credit card appeared to be perched on one of the support beams, attached to the sidewall propping up the ceiling.

“From under the slate, we take five steps toward the shop,” she said, pacing one measured step and then another.

“Three, four, five,” she continued, before dropping to her knees and digging in the floor with her hands.

Cautiously, Harry did the same. Duncan’s eyes remained fixed above the ground, intrigued by the piece of slate in the ceiling.

“What’s this slate about? I’ve not noticed it before.”

“Don’t know; none of us are tall enough to reach it. Beside we needed it to stay there so we knew where we had buried the crystal,” Kate replied, palming loose soil to the side of the hole she had dug. “You gonna get over here and help or what? Forget that, it’s just a piece of slate.”

“Have you seen how deliberately shaped it is? This isn’t just a random natural slate chip…” Duncan’s attention was concentrated on the slate.

“Duncan, we need some light, fella - We’re digging here,” Harry said, when Duncan failed to answer.

Continuing to ignore Harry, Duncan reached up to the slate. It was wedged stiffly between the wall and the support beam.

“I think it’s got writing on it…”

Despite the tension it was under, he pulled until it came free. A loud structural groan echoed through the tunnel. Kate and Harry jumped up and stepped away from the hole in the direction of the shop. Duncan sprang backwards towards the pub.

“What did you do, Duncan?” Kate screamed in terror.

“I just pulled this out…” he replied, sliding the slate in his pocket. He shone the light around the tunnel looking for damage. “I think it’s going to be alright,” he announced confidently, yet they all remained frozen, where they stood.

“I hope-”

As Harry began, bricks started crumbling from the wall. It collapsed quickly, knocking the support beam from its anchor point. Dirt and rubble fell instantly from the ceiling as both walls imploded around them.

Duncan awoke to the sound of Kate and Harry shouting his name. Blinking his eyes open, he tried to roll onto his side. His legs were buried, but not too deeply. His hands reached out and began to move the rubble until he had cleared enough to free himself. Staggering clumsily to his feet he noticed a floor-to-ceiling pile of rubble blocking the tunnel.

“Kate, help me move this!” Duncan heard Harry shout, from somewhere on the other side of the huge pile. Scrambling for his flashlight, he realized he wasn’t seriously injured.

“What happened?” Duncan shouted, trying to re-orientate himself.

“Oh, thank God!” Kate cried. “Duncan! Are you hurt?!”

“No. Are you two alright?” Shouting made him feel dizzy and he slumped back onto the floor with a painful groan.

“Yeah, we’re fine, fella! You don’t sound too good. Just sit tight, we’re coming to get you,” comforted Harry. With these words, Duncan closed his eyes and let sleep take him. He drifted, confused and detached, yet vaguely aware.

“This one here, Kate!” Harry shouted. “I can’t lift it on my own…”

“Together on three… One…Two…Three!” Both let out a strained grunt with an abrupt and sudden finish.

“No hope, Harry, we can’t lift it.” Kate cried.

It was Kate’s words that finally pulled Duncan from unconsciousness.

“Go around, through the shop…” Duncan said, with as much volume as he could squeeze from his lungs.

“We tried that, the door to the shop is bolted from the shop side. Unless we can get though this, we’re stuck here.” Harry replied.

Stumbling to his feet, Duncan reached for his flashlight. He scanned the remaining support beams again. The collapse was isolated to just one section, so the pathway to the pub door was clear. He turned back to tell them when he noticed a beam of light from one of the flashlights shining through a hole in the rubble.

“There’s a hole!” Duncan shouted, fumbling toward it. Before he could reach it Harry’s face poked through.

“How you feeling, kiddo?”

Harry’s warm words of concern shook Duncan from his daze and concentrated his mind.

“My leg hurts, but other than that, I’m fine. How long have we been here?”

“You look like you’ve hurt your head quite badly too…You were out of it about half an hour, I think,” Harry responded, as Duncan felt the partially dried blood down the side of his face.

“The others should know something’s wrong by now, surely,” mused Duncan.

“That’s my thinking. Hopefully, your Pa will send someone soon.”

“There’s no need. The path to the pub is clear. I’ll come round through the other side and let you out.”

“What about the crystal…?” asked Harry.

Duncan stood back to get a good view of the huge pile of debris separating them.

“If we can’t get to it then neither can the Dark Circle.”

“Well it’s your call, fella.”

“I’m going to come and get you. Shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to get down Stonegate to the shop.”

Duncan turned around and began hobbling his way toward the pub. A loud bell rang from the shop end of the tunnel.

“Thank God! Duncan, come back! Someone’s come for us!” Kate yelled.

A wave of relief fell over Duncan as he turned around and limped his way back to the wall of rubble. Making his way closer to the gap he heard a scream from Kate and two loud popping sounds. Alarmed, he attempted to advance quicker, only to collapse under his injured leg. He frantically crawled towards the dirt heap. Reaching out and closing his hands around the edge of a protruding brick he pulled himself up enough to peer though the hole. Duncan’s body froze as his eyes fell upon Kate, slumped just a few feet from the wall, oozing blood from an ugly wound in her chest. The sudden movement of Harry’s body hitting the floor drew Duncan’s attention.

“No… Wait…” Harry wept.

Two more popping sounds accompanied by sharp flashes came from a figure standing over Harry. The figure slowly bent to his haunches and placed his hand on Harry’s chest.

“You appear to be dying, Sir,” he whispered.

An involuntary, choked cry escaped Duncan’s mouth. The discarded flashlights faintly illuminated the man as he stood, turned and raised the gun toward Duncan. In that instance the rubble in front of Duncan’s face parted in one sharp movement, as if giant hands had swept it away. The man and Duncan stood face to face looking at each other through the hole in the rubble. Duncan, crouched, exposed and vulnerable before the figure. The right side of the man’s face was partially obscured by a thick lock of twisted hair that had freed itself from a thong. Duncan gasped as recognition of the man’s features struck. It was his Pa; the same broad build, the same untidy coiled hair. The figure held the gun steadily as Duncan blinked hard in disbelief, squinting desperately against the darkness. His heart pounded, his mind raced and he choked as he tried to call out. Unexpectedly the man lowered the gun to the floor, and in a burst of flames, was gone.

So many questions raced through his mind. He scrambled to his feet and then limped hurriedly toward the pub. Pausing outside the entrance, he broke down and sobbed like a child in his mother’s arms. The face of his father filled his thoughts. Anger enveloped him, twisted him, tore at the core of his very being. Suddenly, as if dragged from quicksand by an unseen force, he straightened himself and took two deliberate deep breaths. He had to get to Harry and Kate.

Staggering out of the pub he walked into the plant pot and slipped on the ice covered paving slabs in the courtyard. Grabbing at the flimsy branches of the Rhododendron plant he fell against the whitewashed wall of the building. He stared down the alley towards the cobbled street of Stonegate. His thoughts filled with the man. Could it be Simon? Was it his Pa who had threatened his life and killed their friends? Rational thought should have prevailed, but the figure was so similar in the dimly lit tunnel. Dragging himself from the support of the wall he staggered down the alley and into the street.

“You alright, buddy?” A passerby asked, gesturing to Duncan’s bloody head.

“I’m fine,” Duncan barked, steadying himself against an old brick wall. Seconds later he pushed himself away, forcing himself to walk quicker, away from prying eyes. With so many thoughts darting through his mind, he hadn’t realized that he had already reached the shop. He blinked in the early morning light and reached out to try the door. It was locked, and there were no signs of forced entry.

“Of course, he used a crystal…” Duncan whispered to himself.

With one swift shoulder charge, he smashed open the door. Proceeding through the shop and to the entrance of the tunnel, Duncan braced himself. The door was closed. He lifted his hand turned the handle. It swung gently open to reveal the long tunnel in which his friends lay, the sound of the bell sounding faintly from the other end of the tunnel. He entered the damp, faintly lit space and stood for a second, scanning the path. He prayed that he had imagined the whole thing, but then his eyes rested on the blood-soaked bodies. He had no doubt that Kate was dead. Walking slowly toward her, he heard a wet gurgling cough and swung toward the sound. Harry’s crumpled and broken body lay in a pool of his blood.

Duncan fell to his knees beside him.

“Harry?” he sobbed, blinking away the tears.

“Hey, fella…”

“I’m so sorry…”

“His eye, Duncan… His eye…” Harry struggled to talk as blood poured from his mouth.

“What about his eye, Harry?”

Harry choked on a bloody cough as he tried to answer.

“It’s OK. It’s not that bad, really. You’re going to be alright.”

Duncan placed his hand on Harry’s chest near the two oozing bullet wounds.

“Don’t… Don’t spin me stories, fella… I know it’s bad.”

“No, really, Harry…” Duncan couldn’t get his words out as he began to sob, “We’ll get you patched up in no time. Don’t worry…”

“I’m not worried…” Harry forced a smile, took one last rasping breath and closed his eyes forever, leaving the tunnel in total silence.

Shaking, Duncan staggered to his feet and made his way over to Kate. Her body lay messily slumped against the debris. He cast his eyes to the side of the tunnel, to the specific way in which the rubble had moved itself against the walls and blinked hard. He couldn’t be sure, couldn’t explain how bricks and beams, that had been too heavy for Kate and Harry to lift, could have moved themselves in the pile of rubble in which they had fallen, parted like the Red Sea and left a round hole through the obstruction in the tunnel. Trembling he lifted Kate’s body and rested her next to Harry. For a moment he stood, tears streaming down his face, trying to understand how it had happened.

“Look after her,” he whispered; choking back a sob and casting one last look at his friends before turning back toward the shop door.