And Next, Darkness by David Dwan - HTML preview

TWENTY-FIVE

 

 

 

 

Although they were driving through some of the most beautiful scenery Yorkshire had to offer, the visual splendor was wasted on both Women, lost as they were in their own dark thoughts of what may lie ahead of them.

As it had been so early when they had set off, they had clear roads all the way from Leeds and out into the country. It took them a little over an hour and a half before they finally saw the first road sign for New Hadley which indicated they were a mere twenty miles away from the village where Bromlyn had recorded the fateful tapes.

Seeing the sign, Jenny was suddenly filled with a strange conflict of emotions, she had been so distracted by her own thoughts that the journey seemed to have flashed by in a heartbeat and now that they were on the last leg already she found herself wishing the journey had been longer.

“I think we should stop off somewhere for breakfast. What do you think?” Bromlyn said clearly feeling the same as Jenny.

“Good idea,” Jenny agreed. And it was only now that she realized she hadn’t really eaten anything of note in nearly two days. At the thought of hot food her stomach growled its agreement.

“It I remember correctly, we stopped off at a Little Chief just up here when we came on a recce of Hadley.” Bromlyn said. She took out her phone as she drove and made a face. “I also remember you can’t get a decent phone signal for shit out there, so of you have any calls to make, you should do so when we stop. It’s either that or a pay phone when we get there.”

Jenny patted the phone in her pocket and thought of Reece’s text. “No I’m good, thanks.”

 

At just after eight AM, Jenny sat down to the biggest breakfast she had ever seen. The aptly titled ‘Belly Buster.’ The waitress had raised an eyebrow and asked her twice if she was sure that was what she wanted and now that she was confronted with the feast she could see why. But still she tackled the food with gusto and now she was half way through it she drained her second cup of coffee and was beginning to feel human again for the first time in days.

Taking a breather from the mammoth task, Jenny looked out of the restaurants window, Bromlyn was on her phone pacing in the car park outside, she had already eaten her own albeit smaller breakfast and had excused herself to go outside. No doubt she was on to her Husband again, Jenny thought and picked at the remainder of her own huge breakfast. Before admitting defeat soon after.

“Feel better?” Bromlyn asked as Jenny joined her outside after paying with Bromlyn’s work credit card.

“Tons,” Jenny replied. Perhaps it was the combination of fatty foods and caffeine but she did feel ready to take on the world.

Bromlyn wafted a map at her. “We’re all gassed up and ready to go. This is a local map,” she said. “This’ll show all the farms and what not out here. We should be in New Hadley in half an hour or so. After that...” Her voice fell away and she shrugged.

“Even now, after everything, none of this really feels real, does it?” Jenny said.

“No,” Bromlyn looked around at the scenery. “You just can’t imagine anything bad happening in a place like this.”

“Yeah. Anyway, where to first?” Jenny asked, bringing them back to the task at hand.

“Let’s just get there and park up,” Bromlyn said. “When we were filming we parked up in a car park, it’s right in the center of the village. I say we start there and see where it takes us.”

Maybe it was the cold morning air, but Jenny found herself trembling slightly as they made their way over to the car. “How are you feeling?” She asked Bromlyn.

“Scared shitless, love. You?

“Took the words right out of my mouth. Look, let’s just be careful. If we do find this place, we may need to get inside, we’ll need proof, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But if we do find something. It’s straight to the police, Okay?”

“Of course.”

And for a moment both of them actually believed it might just be that easy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-SIX

 

 

 

 

When they finally got there, New Hadley turned out to be the sort of place that you drove through to get to somewhere else. Technically it could be called a town if you were feeling generous, but as they approached Jenny thought it looked more of a glorified stop off point, a place where you started your hiking trip, a place to park and maybe get a bite to eat before you took on the serious job of actually seeing the Yorkshire Dales proper. A village with ideas above its station really.

As they drove into village itself, Bromlyn’s face grew dark. This was where this nightmare had first begun for her. Jenny could see her knuckles turn white as she gripped the steering wheel. Bromlyn’s eyes darted from one building to the other as if waiting for something to appear out of nowhere. Like a Humvee driver in down town Kabul. But she was looking for ghosts not I.E.D’s. When they finally came to a stop in the car park which was situated slap bang in the middle of the centre, she gave an audible sigh of relief.

They sat for a moment in silence, Jenny got out first, more to get away from the oppressive atmosphere of the car than anything. The moment she was outside and into the fresh air she was hit by the feeling that despite its quaint harmless appearance, something was very wrong with sleepy little New Hadley.

Somehow Jenny instinctively knew she would be able to identify the Butcher’s house when she saw it. Not just because of the ghost writer style phantom sketches Bromlyn had made, if anything the myriad of styles were a hindrance more than a help. She had seen fleeting glimpses of the real thing in the dream, albeit through the filter of half a dozen victims recollections. But now that she was here, in the flesh, she knew she would actually be able to feel the place once they were close.

She looked around the car park and the village beyond, with its ridiculously picturesque setting, village green complete with pond (and ducks). It seemed to be all coffee shops and outdoors pursuits retailers. To anyone else, Hadley was the perfect model of a perfect Yorkshire Dales tourist trap.

But to Jenny something didn’t seem right. It was a beautiful summer morning, the rolling hills that surrounded the village were covered in a light mist that would slowly dissipate once the sun took hold. Early rising hikers could already been seen dotted around the landscape. Idyllic was the only word that came to mind as she did a 360. Idyllic, save for a growing sense of unease that was creeping over her. It was more than just anticipation of what they might find and the promise of an end to all this. It was an almost physical weight bearing down on her. And it cast a shadow over the whole scene as if something was lurking nearby, blending in almost seamlessly with the beauty, unless, like Jenny you knew where to look, or what to look for.

“You okay?” Bromlyn asked from another universe. But Jenny didn’t reply. She just closed her eyes and tried to tune everything out except for that dark presence. She held her breath, concentrating for a moment and when she finally opened her eyes again she half expected to see something akin to a German impressionistic off kilter haunted house perched bold as brass on a nearby hillside. But of course there was nothing, nothing but that feeling of cold oppressive dread.

“Jenny?”

“It’s here, Brom,” She said without taking her eyes off the landscape. “I can feel it.”

“Well,” Bromlyn shook the map. “According to this, there are four farms close to the village. We should start with the nearest, which is a mile or so over that way,” she threw a thumb over her shoulder. “If we’re pretending to be hikers, I suppose we should walk. Maybe take the car to have a look at the ones that are further away?”

“Uh huh,” Jenny scanned the outskirts of the village. From where they were standing she could see one of the farms clear as day located some way off half way up a hillside. “You can cross that one off.” She pointed and Bromlyn followed her finger.

“Yeah, too modern.” She agreed.

“Too alive,” Jenny said. The farm was clearly a working one, she could see tiny sheep nearby, a red tractor, that from this distance looked like a child’s toy, slowly making its way across a field. The place they were searching for was a dead haunted place. It may not look like a horror movie location on the outside, but it certainly would feel like one.

“I’m going to ask around,” Bromlyn said. “See if any of the locals know of an old farmhouse or such around here. See if we can’t narrow things down a bit. Don’t go wandering off.” With this Bromlyn strode off purposefully across the car park and in the direction of some nearby shops.

“I won’t” Jenny replied but realized she was already alone.

That feeling of unease was now playing up and down her spine like a xylophone. Now she knew how a gazelle must feel when it catches the faint whiff of a lion by the watering hole. Her nerve endings were dancing, everything around her came into sharp focus, the colors more vivid than ever as she slowly looked around her surroundings for that tell-tale shape in the undergrowth. Her muscles tensed and she could feel herself shaking ever so slightly.

“Where are you?” She whispered. Jenny regarded her seemingly normal environment with a cool eye. Some part of her was genuinely amazed that normal, banal everyday life going on around here. People going about their normal business without a care in the world. Browsing the just opened ships, sitting in front of the quaint tea room across the green, talking over breakfast. Lambs to the slaughter, she thought. Couldn’t they feel that dark foreboding presence? Feel the prowling beast close by? Biding its time somewhere close, just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to pounce?

Jenny suddenly remembered to breathe, she let out a long breath and shook her head. Beasts in the shadows? Jesus, she realized the events of the last few days, coupled with a sleepless nights were catching up with her. The sooner this was over with the better she would feel. Find the damn house, call the police, and put the dead to rest.

A cold breeze, almost like the touch of breath on the back of Jenny’s neck, made her turn around and she half expected to see the mouth less Woman in white standing right behind her pointing to some far off corner of the valley and the haunted farmhouse beyond. But there was nothing but a harassed looking couple juggling a push chair, what looked like picnic supplies and two moaning children. Jenny smiled at the little slice of normality and watched the procession make its way out of the car park and across the road that ran straight through the village.

Her gaze followed the road as it wound through and out of the centre and off down the valley and away. The vivid red flash of a sports car driving off into the distance caught her eye, it was so at odds with the lush green and brown of the surrounding hills that it made Jenny think of blood. She watched it as it sped past a slow moving tractor and away. She couldn’t help but smile as she imagined the tractor driver cursing the ‘God Dammed tourist.’

The laboring tractor passed a long winding dirt track on its right as it continued on its way. Jenny followed the track which snaked up the hillside cutting between two fields one of which was home to the skeletal beginnings of what looked like new houses. The dirt track suddenly made Jenny think of the dream. Hadn’t she been tossed around in the back of what she had assumed to be a van as it was driven over a rough road? Despite the rising sun and the warmth that came with it Jenny felt a chill. The track meandered up passed the building site for probably half a mile or so and then veered off to the left where it disappeared into a large thick wooded area close to the hill top. And Jenny forgot to breathe again.

As soon as Jenny had stepped out of the car she had felt like there was some dark, ominous presence secretly watching over the sleepy little town of New Hadley, Yorkshire. Tainting the place like the half-forgotten shameful secret of a seemingly flawless beauty queen who had killed her way to the top. An almost invisible malady, undetectable to the world at large, except for a select few, those with vision enough to look beyond the surface glamour and through to the darkness behind those glittering eyes.

“Damn,” Jenny uttered with no little fear. This feeling was an almost physical oppression weighting down on her chest, making it harder and harder to catch her breath when she did breathe again. And with it the absolute certainty it was caused by the Butcher’s shadow casting over the town.

And Jenny had been right. Just visible through the trees at the top of the hill she could just make out the outline of a dark structure within. It was too far for her to make out and great detail, but she knew instantly that she had finally found the ‘lion’ that had been stalking her since she arrived.

“Jen!” Bromlyn came jogging across the car park towards Jenny, her face flushed with excitement. Jenny tore her eyes away from the house on the hill as she approached, but quickly glanced back again, half expecting it to be gone. But it was still there amongst the trees, watching, waiting.

“Jen,“ Bromlyn grabbed hold of her arm. “Jesus, you’re not going to believe this...”

“Bromlyn...”

Bromlyn cut her off. “I was talking with this old Woman in the clothes shop over the road.” She unfolded the map and ran her eyes over it for something without pausing for breath. “She said there are only a couple of old farm house close by. She gave me this whole spiel about how the recession has devastated the whole local economy, blah, blah, blah, and how a lot of folks are selling up and moving away...”

Bromlyn never looked up from the map as she rambled on. She ran a finger over it searching for something. “Went on about how all these out of Towner’s have swooped in, buying everything up, knocking it all down to make new houses. Ruining the landscape and all that.” Bromlyn rolled her eyes. “Crazy old cow thought I was looking to buy one, I think.” She flipped the map over still not finding what she was looking for.

Jenny watched her but was still conscious of the shadow just over her shoulder. “Brom?” She said a little louder, but the Woman was in full detective flight now. So Jenny just let her get it out of her system. After all, the farm house wasn’t going anywhere. Despite that she checked a second time over her shoulder just to make sure all the same.

“Shit, I knew I should have stuck with the Girl Guides.” Bromlyn said, she glanced around trying to get her bearings with a perplexed look on her face. “Anyway, if I could actually read this thing, the old Lady said that one of the farms around here used to be owned by a family called the Willis, Willard’s, yeah Willard’s. Nice folks, apparently etcetera, etcetera, terrible how they both died within months of each other. Quite romantic and all that, if in a sad way.” She finally took a deep breath and looked at Jenny who was almost sorry that she already knew the punch line to this particular bad joke. Bromlyn frowned slightly seeing the look on her face. “Anyway, their surviving son has let the place go to rack and ruin since then and despite everything has always refused to sell... And get this. Guess what they did for a living?”

“Butchers.”

Bromlyn nodded vigorously, her eyes gleaming. “Butchers, that’s right. The old dear pointed it out on the map, so if I could just find us on here.” She ran her eyes over it again.

“Brom?” Jenny said softly.

“I should be able to get us there. Jesus, Jenny, she said it was so damn close.”

“Bromlyn,” she repeated in her best school teacher voice. Bromlyn finally looked back up from the map which now looked like she had been eating fish and chips out of it, it was so crumpled. Jenny pointed up to the wooded area and the other Woman followed the gesture. “It’s there.”

“Oh,” Bromlyn said weakly. “Shit, you sure?”

“I can, feel it. But there’s only one way to be sure.” She pointed to the map. “Find a landmark, get your bearings from there. See if there’s another way to that wood without having to go up that dirt track. It’s bound to be private property and you would be able to see us ‘hiking’ up there for miles.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Bromlyn didn’t sound so enthusiastic all of a sudden and Jenny knew just how she felt. She put her hands on the woman’s shoulder which won a faint smile.

“We’re just going to take a look, we can’t be sure until we see it up close.”

“Then what?” Bromlyn wanted to know.

“We, improvise.” Jenny told her.

“Are we really doing this?” Bromlyn asked, looking more ashen by the second.

“We are. We have to, you know that.”

“I know,” Bromlyn conceded. “I’m sure we’ll be okay. Besides, it’s broad daylight.”

“Exactly,” Jenny said. “Now, let’s have a good look at that map.”

 

 

 

TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

Once they had their bearings, it hadn’t taken Jenny and Bromlyn long to work out a way of getting up close to the wooded area without drawing too much attention to themselves. There was a public foot path that ran across the top of a nearby hill and close enough so it would then be just a short detour off the beaten track to the wood and the building deep within its midst. If they were accused of trespass by some local busybody it wasn’t too much of a stretch for them to say they were just simple out of towners who had been out for a day’s walk and taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Although as the crow flies the farm house was only at most just over half a mile or so from the town, there was no direct route up there unless you headed across the fields, trespassing for all to see, or used the dirt track that lead off the main road and up into the woods themselves, but that was sure to be private property. So, firstly they drove along the main road that went straight through the village. This took them past the winding dirt track which lead up to the woods concealing the house. Bromlyn slowed the car slightly as they drew level with the entrance and sure enough a battered sign read: ‘Private road, strictly no public access.’

“The perfect creepy road up to the house on haunted fucking hill.” Bromlyn said with no little venom.

Jenny nodded in agreement, she wondered how many times the Butcher had driven up that seemingly innocent road with his latest victim in the back of his van. She frowned slightly at the thought pushing it to the back of her mind and checked the map. “Keep following the road, it’s a good couple of miles, but there’s a car parked marked on here. I’d say it’s a mile or so on foot from there.” She said.

“I’d give my right arm for Google maps on my phone right about now.” Bromlyn said.

“Yeah.” With great effort Jenny fumbled with her phone and finally managed to open it. This won a sympathetic smile from Bromlyn making Jenny’s face flush. “Still no signal, might be better up top.” She gestured up the hill they were driving.

“How are your fingers?” Bromlyn asked.

“Hurt like hell.” Jenny shrugged, it was the truth, the pain was a constant reminder, if one were needed, of the night before last when she had finally unlocked the mystery of where the bodies were. It was a high price to pay for the knowledge.

She just hoped they found what they were looking for and could finally put the dead to rest. Then it would have been a price worth paying. But for now, the pain in her fingers felt like nothing more than a down payment and she hoped that there wouldn’t be any more blood to shed to pay the price in full for an end to all this.

Jenny put her phone away and concentrated on the lush countryside streaking by. The road took them across a quaint stone brid