Unfortunately, as I get to my feet, Harold’s words are still ringing in my ears. He’s only been in town for a few hours and he already sees that I’m struggling.
Hearing more footsteps, I turn and look over my shoulder. At first I assume that it’s just more people from Steadfall going about their business, but after a few seconds there’s still no sign of anyone. I take a step forward, waiting to hear them again, but now the forest has once more fallen silent. Reaching down, I check that my knife is still securely tucked into my waist-band.
“Hello?” I call out cautiously. “Who’s there?”
I wait. One of the few rules I’ve instituted at Steadfall is that everyone must make their presence known in a situation like this, or risk getting hurt. No sneaking about.
Silence.
“I need you to show yourself,” I continue. “Let’s not make this difficult. Show your face.”
Again I wait, but again there’s no sign of anyone.
I slip my knife free and hold it out, ready to defend myself if necessary. Although most people come to Steadfall in peace, we’ve had a few difficult encounters over the years and I know there’s always a chance that some maniac will stray into our territory. It’s never particularly safe to be out alone in the forest, even so close to town. Still, as I continue to wait for any sign that someone is nearby, I can’t help thinking back to the numerous false alarms that occur several times every week. Sometimes I feel as if everyone at Steadfall spends half their time hiding from shadows, but the truth is that the island remains an extremely dangerous place.
Eventually, once I’m sure that there’s no-one around, I head to the next ridge and take a look, before turning and making my way back to the grave-markers. As I slip my knife away, I reach down and grab the spare pieces of wood I brought along, and then I turn and start trudging back through the forest. I know I have to go back to town and face the dirty looks I get from everyone there, but I just hope that a chance arises soon for me to prove to them that I can be a leader. I screwed up with Harry Shaw, I should have just made a big show of killing him, but I’ve always made a point of never ending another life unless it’s in self-defense. Maybe I should just make more of an effort with Deckard and try to—
Suddenly someone grabs me from behind and slams me face-first into the nearest tree, while pulling the knife from my hand.
Chapter Ten
Everywhere I look, I find more dead bodies. And just when I’ve gotten used to the sight of burned human skulls, I realize I can hear a faint, persistent buzzing sound coming from beyond the clearing’s far edge.
Flies.
Lots of fat, buzzing flies.
Forcing myself to go and take a look, I keep my knife in my right hand as I make my way past the clearing. I can see the flies up ahead now, filling the air and crawling all over the tree-trunks. There’s a foul, putrid smell too, something sweet and pungent, and it only takes a moment longer for me to spot the first of the corpses that have been left to rot out here.
“Don’t,” Della’s voice whispers firmly.
I have to look.
“No, you don’t. They’re dead, you already know that. There’s no need to go and see something so horrible.”
I want to see.
I can’t hide from the horror.
Waving flies away, I step forward a few more paces, before stopping next to a dead woman who has been dumped on the ground.
Her head is tilted back, and it’s clear that she died screaming. Her hands have been pinned to the ground, with thick wooden stakes through the palms, and her chest appears to have been partially crushed. The remaining flesh is bloodied and torn, although a tattoo of a boat against a sunset is still just about visible on her bare left shoulder. Waving more flies away, I step around the dead woman so I can get a closer look at her face. Her body is a rotten, seething mass of maggots, with hundreds of flies crawling all over her remaining flesh, but I can still see where her ribs appear to have been torn open on one side. Her eyes have been completely eaten away, and most of her nose has collapsed into the seething mass of maggots that now occupy her skull.
A fly lands on my lips and I spit it away, while brushing more from my hair.
Nearby, the body of a man appears to have been put through a similar ordeal, although his belly is much larger than the woman’s, suggesting that there are more maggots living in his gut. When I look at his arms, I see that a few letters appear to have been carved into his flesh, although he’s so discolored now that I can’t make out what the letters were supposed to spell out. Several spots on his body have been mutilated, more so even than the woman’s, and a knife has been left embedded in his groin. Similar injuries are evident on another man nearby, although his head appears to have been partially separated from his neck and drawn out, exposing a section of gleaming white spinal column.
I was right earlier. This is the work of someone who really gets a kick of killing people.
A shiver passes through my chest as I start to realize that these people weren’t just murdered after their town was destroyed. They were tortured to death.
Chapter Eleven
“Careful!” a familiar voice sneers, kicking me in the side of the head before I have a chance to get up. I fall back and slam down hard against the forest floor, only for another kick to crunch into my ribs.
“Let’s just get this done, okay?” a second voice mutters. “There’s no point dragging it out.”
“You don’t think she’s earned it?”
“I think we need to get the job done!”
Looking up, I see Ellis standing over me, staring down with the same hint of anticipation that was in his eyes earlier when he was beating Harry Shaw. Alison Broaden is next to him, with Bean standing just a little way back and a guy named Joe watching from a few meters away. I guess it took four of them to work up the courage for this, although I’m a little surprised that Deckard didn’t join them. Glancing around, I half expect to see him nearby, but I guess he decided he didn’t want to get his hands dirty.
Coward.
A moment later, someone punches me in the back of the neck and I fall forward, landing on my wrists and letting out a gasp of pain.
“This is for the good of the settlement,” Ellis tells me. “A few of us have been talking, and we figure it’s best if you just go away, Asher. It’s not that we aren’t grateful. You did a good job with the place, it wouldn’t have grown without your work, but the time’s come for someone stronger to take your place, someone who’s got the guts to make tough decisions. And seeing as you won’t step aside voluntarily—”
I cry out again as I’m kicked hard in the gut. Falling to one side, I look up and see Alison sneering down at me.
“Not going to call for help?” she asks with a faint smile. “We thought you might put up more of a struggle.”
“No-one’d hear,” I reply, staring at her with a sense of pure hatred in my chest. “We’re too far from town. After all, none of you cowards would dare attack me if there was even a chance I could fight back.”
“People’ll thank us eventually,” Ellis replies, stepping closer to me with a knife in his right hand. “We won’t tell them what happened. Most folk’ll just think you gave up and ran away. That seems like a slightly nicer story, don’t you think? Or maybe we’ll say you died heroically. Yeah, that’s a better idea. We’ll make out that you were some kind of martyr. You’re more useful to Steadfall as a legend, Asher. You might even inspire people. Then we can get on with shaping Steadfall and making it stronger, and protecting it against enemies.”