The Moors: Some secrets are better left buried (12 page)

She followed the dirt track down the large grass hill, past the tall tree that hung over the pond and towards the heavy gate. As always, the gate was locked and she knew she would not be able to get through, but the purpose of the exercise was not to leave. It was to see if Reuben’s death could feasibly be accredited to a swallowed tongue or if, as she suspected, there was something far more sinister at play.

The gate drew closer and, step-by-step a familiar feeling returned. A nearby rustle in the hedges confirmed it. She was being watched, closely, by something that edged ever closer to her. She knew this with utter conviction because she could feel it, but she did not give in to her impertinent mind. Her focus was on the gate and she intended to reach it without breaking her stride – easier said than done when the rolling of a menacing growl found its way to her ears. Amanda’s determination was broken and she stopped dead in her tracks. The growl was momentous, like the sound of a heavy rock being forced out of position, paving the way for an explorer to enter the bowels of some sacred tomb that had lain dormant for many generations. It was frightening. It was profound. It was also, somehow, enthralling, to envisage what type of ungodly creature would make such a sound. 

Amanda was no longer in control of her movement. So compelled were her senses that she could do nothing other than turn towards the bush where the noise had come from. She could see nothing, but the presence was awesome. Hidden amongst the wildlife and the shrubbery, she sensed that something was wound up like a mighty spring ready to unleash itself towards her. If it did, she would not stand a chance of survival. Something within her gut made that clear. She was too afraid to look away but her heightened senses told her Margaret was willing her back towards the house.

Grrrrrr…
grew the sound from the point at which her eyes were fixed, but louder; more agitated; ready to pounce. The bush began to move and Amanda closed her eyes, not through fear but in preparation of the unfathomable force with which she was about to be hit.

From the house, a shotgun was cocked and a
bang!
thundered through the air as a bullet flew into the hedges. No longer did Amanda feel the creature was about to leap. Another shot led the target to scupper away, creating a tremor of green movement as it retreated with urgency.

‘Come on! Hurry!’ yelled Margaret, crying out to her desperately.

Amanda glanced up at the house. Margaret stood bravely at the top of the hill with an outstretched hand and eyes that were wide with worry.


Run
!’ she screamed.

Although Amanda was desperate to see what had come so close to ripping her to shreds and sending her into the next world, her legs instinctively sprang back to life.

As clearly as Amanda had heard the animal’s footsteps retreat, however, she heard them make a daring return as Christian hurriedly reloaded his gun. She glanced back at the grass mound behind which the beast still eluded sight, expecting it to burst through into the garden she occupied at any moment.

Bang!

Bang!

The footsteps once again galloped away, indicating it had escaped the path of gunfire once more. Amanda reached out to feel Margaret’s fleshy palm and together they made their way towards the front doorway, where Walter had appeared, standing alert and ready to close the door once they had entered. Finally, Amanda heard the beast leap through the hedges and land on the ground close behind her. She would have certainly looked over her shoulder if Christian, in his hurry, had not dropped the bullets he was trying to funnel into the barrel of his gun. As he scrambled around manically trying to recover, Amanda knew they may not make it back inside. Therefore, her entire focus had to be on reaching that door. She ran as hard as she could, pulling Margaret – who had unwittingly become a hindrance – along with her. Heavy breaths neared as the predator ate up the ground between them. The situation had become so tight that even Christian stopped fishing for the elusive ammunition and joined them in their race to get back to the house. Amanda felt the hot air of something snapping at her ankles. She believed that on the next attempt, the jaws of the alien being were going to rip her Achilles heel from her leg like a warm knife running through butter. At the last possible moment, Amanda closed her eyes, launched herself and Margaret forwards and hoped they had done enough to escape. As they landed on the hard floor of the downstairs hallway, Walter swung the door quickly behind them. Rather than slam shut, it stumbled against the most solid of objects. Christian immediately assisted in the struggle as, together, they pushed with all of their might.

B-m…

Thud…

Scratch…

Scratch…

Click!

Finally, the door was forced to a close. The monster outside continued to claw at it for several moments afterwards before an abrupt silence surrounded them. It was suddenly so calm it was as though there had been no incident at all. Amanda fought hard for breath, as did everybody else involved in the chase. The fact they were all still alive felt like something of a miracle and as the adrenalin kicked in, Amanda realised the story she had been pursuing had just reached a whole new level.

The Exmoor beast was real. 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Better the Devil You Know
Monday 14
th
February, 1972

 

It seemed inhumane to lock the children back in their rooms at a time of such disarray and panic, particularly Georgina, who had been Reuben’s roommate for a number of years. Therefore, the elders allowed Gordon and Georgina to play games at the dining room table where Malcolm sat idly beside them. That way, they were together and within sight should the beast make a return. Ellie and David were considered to be safe due to their highly secure proximity within the house and so were, as usual, left to their own devices.

In the living room, the atmosphere was badly strained. Amanda sat in numb silence as Karen pushed for a reaction.

‘I told you she couldn’t be trusted!’ Karen reminded everyone. ‘She’s reckless and her actions put us all in danger!’

‘I didn’t… I-I didn’t know…’ Amanda mumbled, softly, barely able to muster the energy to defend herself.

‘I did tell you to keep the children safe,’ Christian admitted, sounding sympathetic but disappointed. ‘What exactly were you trying to achieve out there?’

‘She was irresponsible. As usual!’ goaded Karen.

‘Go easy on her,’ pleaded Margaret, looking hopelessly uneasy.

‘We have been,’ insisted Karen. ‘That’s precisely the problem!’

‘What was that thing?’ asked Amanda, distantly.

The room fell silent.

Amanda shuddered as she relived how close she had come to a certain and grotesquely violent death.

‘I don’t know what it is,’ Christian finally answered. ‘But it roams the moors and has done so for many years. It seems to pay special attention to us… and our children.’

‘I… can’t believe it’s actually real,’ gasped Amanda, stopping with a sharp breath. ‘It’s real. It’s real…’ she said, her voice trailing off as a look of realisation washed over her face. ‘And Reuben?’ she asked, her mind piecing things together like a dark, distorted jigsaw puzzle as she processed the wave of information flashing through her mind.

Suddenly, Karen slinked away, her eyes looking any which way but Amanda’s direction.

‘Yes,’ admitted Christian, with a delicate whisper.

‘So what was all that nonsense about him swallowing his tongue?’ she snapped, angrily. ‘Lies!’

‘I was trying to spare you the details,’ he informed her.

‘These are not the kind of details you can choose to omit!’ she said, suddenly raising her voice. ‘You don’t have the right!’

‘Don’t come here and tell us what we can and cannot do!’ argued Karen. ‘We have a certain way of living, of working, of doing things so that there can be unity on our land and our methods were chosen for a reason,’ she scorned.

‘Your methods?’ repeated Amanda in pure disgust. ‘A young boy was killed because of your incompetence. I could have been killed! And how many others in that graveyard are there because of this…
thing
?’ asked Amanda.

Amanda looked to Margaret, whose reaction suggested the beast was responsible for a great many deaths.

‘When are you going to do something about it?’ asked Amanda, exhausted and close to tears.

‘Might I add…’ began Walter, as calm and collected as ever. ‘That we have told people about this. We’ve told them repeatedly, but they don’t want to listen,’ he claimed. ‘You sit out there and read the papers with me. You see the scepticism involved at the mention of there being an Exmoor beast.’

For a moment, Amanda wondered if this was what sparked Walter’s infatuation with the news. Was he reading updates on the situation as he, like everybody else in the home, had developed an obsession with it? Either way, the scrutiny with which Walter analysed words meant that the few he actually spoke were invariably true. Suddenly, Amanda recalled her own dismissive response towards the radio broadcast that aired on the day of her arrival. Somewhat uncomfortably, she questioned whether anybody would even believe her.

‘That’s why we take things into our own hands,’ revealed Christian.

‘Why don’t we call the police?’ asked Amanda.

‘Oh! A wonderful idea!’ snorted Karen mockingly in the background.

Christian looked at Amanda with sincerity in his eyes.

‘Come with me into my office and call them if you like,’ he said, openly. ‘Tell them that the beast of the moors has murdered a young spastic child and see what they say.’

‘The murder of any child has to be taken seriously!’ Amanda returned, incensed.

‘If only that were true, dear,’ added Margaret, with deep regret. ‘But it’s like I told you. Nobody cares for these kids except us. Nobody,’ she repeated, somewhat ominously.

The confidence of Christian’s words and the backing of Margaret, who she fully trusted, was enough to make Amanda believe they had truly taken such measures before, but to no avail. Christian walked over to Amanda and held her shoulders. This time, he did so gently.

‘By all means, feel free to try. Maybe their attitudes will have changed,’ he said.

Amanda did not expect Christian to be so encouraging about the involvement of the police and his support led her to conclude it would do no good. The local police were either inept, were friends of the family or had genuinely no concern over a group of physically and mentally ill children who did not integrate within their society – especially when the country continued to go through such political turmoil.

Amanda sighed, frustrated and torn.

‘Reuben’s gone, Amanda, and not a single thing we do can bring him back,’ said Christian, tenderly. ‘But I promise you this. I’ll get two of the best hunters I know here tonight and with them, I will scour the moors until we find the beast. We’ll kill it, once and for all. It will end tonight.’

Amanda considered his words. He spoke bravely and although Margaret had revealed there was a level of abuse within the home, Amanda could still only guess who the guilty parties were. Could it be that Christian was, in fact, good? She had seen him play so sweetly with Reuben earlier that morning and was touched by his caring nature. He appeared to be hurting every bid as much as Amanda was and so she wondered if his pursuit of the beast should be encouraged. After all, surely the family were not capable of the same torment as the animal that lingered outside. Once the beast was out the way, she would be able to figure out more clearly how to expose the abusers within the home, and so she looked back to Christian with vengeance in her eyes.

‘You need any help?’ she asked.

*
 

As the sun faded on what had been an extraordinary day, Christian sat out the front of the house on a wooden rocking chair. It offered him the perfect vantage point of the land around him and with his trusty gun locked and loaded, he observed, affording the other residents as much peace of mind as he could possibly offer.

Inside the house, Amanda made her way grimly upstairs and towards Ellie’s bedroom. The poor girl had, quite rightly, been delirious with fright after Reuben’s savage murder and yet such was everybody’s panic, no one had thought to console her. Had Ellie’s window not have been so high and so small, she might have been able to offer Amanda some vital information regarding the attack. By that same token, had her room been more accessible then it may have been her window through which the beast climbed.

As Amanda passed Reuben and Georgina’s bedroom she again heard movement coming from inside and took it upon herself to investigate. She pushed the door gently to see Arthur sweeping remnants of glass from underneath the window. He was also armed with a large bucket of soapy water, which was desperately needed for the large patches of blood that had soaked into the floorboards where Reuben appeared to have fallen. Amanda wondered how much of the poor boy’s body the beast devoured and how much of the torment it inflicted on the child would have been for some form of sadistic pleasure.
Why would this happen to such a sweet and innocent boy?
She thought, hoping dearly that his suffering was minimal.

Part of Amanda wished to make her presence known to Arthur so she could help him with the cleaning, but it was all too painful and so she convinced herself Ellie needed her more and silently edged away.

Once again, Ellie did not attack Amanda as she entered her room. What’s more, upon seeing Amanda, she did not turn away. Instead, her bottom lip quivered and she began to cry, allowing Amanda onto the bed where she adopted Margaret’s technique of running her hands through the youngster’s hair.

‘Why?’ asked Ellie in between sobs.

‘Sshh…’ comforted Amanda, soothingly, like the sound of small waves breaking gently in the ocean. ‘It’ll be okay,’ she said, feeling foolish as she did so.

Why did people always say such things at the most inappropriate moments?

‘Don’t say that!’ said Ellie, calling Amanda on her clumsy words. ‘It’s
not
okay. And it never will be!’ she shouted.

The girl gave no warning before pulling away and jumping to her feet. Before Amanda absorbed what was happening, Ellie had run to the edge of the room and was clawing at the padded walls.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Amanda, with a sense of urgency.

Ellie was frustrated that she could not break through the fabric but started to aggressively head-butt the wall in any case.

‘Ellie!’ called Amanda, as she ran to the girl’s assistance, entering another tussle. The youngster tried desperately to fend Amanda off. She shouted and screamed but Amanda held firm and eventually managed to take her to the ground.

‘Ellie, calm down!’ she pleaded.

Eventually she did, though the sobbing continued.

‘Make it stop,’ Ellie cried, weakly. ‘Please make it stop!’

Heartbreakingly, Amanda felt certain the girl was referring to her own life. All Amanda could do was hold her and rock with her until the tears dried up. It was while doing this that she noticed an aniseed ball lying on the floor beneath Ellie’s bed. Amanda knew that Walter visited the girl. Indeed, he had openly admitted it when she raised concerns over Ellie’s lack of contact with the real world. However, something about seeing the sweet lying there appeared incredibly sinister. Amanda shuddered at the implications.

‘Does Walter come and see you sometimes?’ asked Amanda, as innocently as possible.

There was something about Ellie’s reaction – the way she said nothing but quickly nestled her face into Amanda’s bosom – that suggested she was trying to hide her expression. Only somebody who had themselves been abused could understand the inexplicable shame felt by a fellow victim, as though
they
were dirty; as though
they themselves
had done something wrong. From that moment, there was no doubt in Amanda’s mind that, as unlikely as it first seemed, Walter was one of the key offenders.

*
 

It had become a desperate time; a deadly game of cat-and-mouse where evil was as likely to come from inside the house as it was from the land around it. If Amanda was to survive, she would need to know who her allies were and, even more importantly, her enemies. Roaming the moors was a relentless killing machine and although she had yet to catch Karen doing anything wrong, she felt certain the woman was capable of much cruelty and horror. Amanda felt it in her bones. Added to that list now was Walter – a man who, somewhat disturbingly, had appeared completely trustworthy. What, then, was Amanda to make of her feelings towards Christian? He was another person she always felt she could trust – a good egg who had learnt everything he knew about decency and honesty from his mother, and Amanda’s one true ally, Margaret. Was the reason Margaret refused to “go against” her son the fact that he was innocent or simply because she was unable? 

Only one thing seemed certain. Amanda had to make a move and she had to make it fast. Her life, and the lives of countless children who had been wronged in the most unspeakable of ways, depended on it.

 

 

 

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