Wanted (Flick Carter Book 1) (30 page)

‘Looks like she’s been here,’ the sergeant said after a while. ‘There’s our tracks from when we came and filled up the tank, and you can see this other track on top. Looks like a bicycle.’

‘And there’s loads of other tracks here,’ Anderson added. ‘People. And they’re recent too.’

The smell of burnt wood was strong, and wisps of smoke hung in the air, trapped by scorched trees and the damp misty air. More wisps of smoke rose from the ground where the grass around them was blackened and scorched too.

‘Keep alert everyone!’ the sergeant reminded them.

They reached the compound and discovered the jemmied hut door wide open. ‘Reckon someone got in under the fence and jemmied the door.’ It wasn’t long before they discovered the remains of a fire in the grate inside the hut too.

‘Well, that solves one mystery,’ Dixon said. ‘Whoever broke in here lit a fire, and that started the generator, which produced the carrier wave that we detected last night. Probably attracted whoever else turned up.’

They continued looking. A few minutes later, Sergeant Wailing found the burnt out bike under the trees.

‘Ma’am, you should see this,’ he said, ‘and you too, Carter.’

‘Any idea if this could be Felicity’s bike?’

Adam looked at it, but it was just a rusted frame. ‘I really couldn’t say. It’s about the right size, but…’

‘I understand.’ Dixon addressed the squad, ‘Looks like she was taken by surprise. We have to conclude at this point that she was either taken captive, or is now on foot.’

Just then Adam spotted something in the grass some distance away, a heap. ‘Ma’am,’ he called. ‘What’s that over there?’

Several squaddies ran over to it, and Adam saw one of them double over and throw up into the grass. Quickly the others rushed to see what it was. It was a body, covered in rags and blood, but without a head.

‘Is it her?’ someone asked.

‘Dunno,’ came a reply. ‘Can’t even tell if it’s a boy or girl. Not without turning it over.’

That prompted two others to lose their breakfast, and Dixon to lose her temper.

‘Pull yourselves together, for goodness sake,’ she snapped. ‘Sergeant get this body turned over and identified. At least as much as it can be.’

‘Ma’am!’

The sergeant detailed one other squaddie to help him turn the body over. They ascertained that the body was male and concluded, to Adam’s relief, that it couldn’t be Flick. Several men were then detailed to dig a grave and bury the body.

Once they were finished and cleaned up, Dixon gathered everyone together for an announcement. ‘We have to conclude that Felicity was here last night and was attacked by a group of persons unknown. One of those persons is now dead. Felicity is no longer here, and either escaped on foot or was captured, at or about the time that we observed the fire in the distance. In the light of the fact that there have now been two fires in which there were fatalities, and in which the suspect was implicated, we have to consider her to be extremely dangerous, and act accordingly.’

FLICK MADE HER way down the hill on foot. She’d crawled out from her hiding place among the trees as soon as it was first light, avoiding looking at the body of the boy in the grass as much as she could. But there was no escaping the metallic smell of the blood and briefly, she’d wanted to gag, realising it had so very nearly been her.

Her bike had been hidden under a pile of leaves, and that was now just a rusty and warped frame; the tyres and saddle had been completely burnt away. Her bow was gone too; she’d dropped it when she jumped from the tree, and hadn’t been able to pick it up, and now there was simply no trace of it. But at least she still had her pack, and the rabbits she’d cooked last night, and she was alive. She just had no transport, no money and no means of catching more food. Still it could be worse.

For some time she could still smell the burnt wood, and even where the vegetation was still green, there were fragments of ash settling or drifting on the breeze. The day had settled down to being cold and slightly damp. The grey skies were starting to look more and more leaden and the occasional drop of rain fell through the trees. It looked like there was a storm brewing. Flick trudged on along the track. Other than the trees, there was no sign of shelter, so she just had to hope she could get far enough fast enough before the rain started.

After she’d been walking a couple of hours, she thought she heard voices. Then she saw up ahead, a covered wagon being pulled by a cart horse. There were three people walking with it and chatting to each other, a man and two women from the sound of their voices. They were going along the track in the same direction as Flick, but making much slower progress. She decided to hang back and observe them from a distance.

When they came to a large clearing the group stopped the wagon and made camp. Before long they had a crackling fire going, with a pot hanging over it. Flick crept closer and closer, until she could get a good look at the trio.

It appeared to be a family group. The man looked to be about forty. He had long grey hair woven into a long braid that ran down his back and tied with a red ribbon. His grey beard was similarly woven and tied with a smaller ribbon. His clothes appeared to be made from animal skins, dyed black on the outside, but with tufts of white fleece showing at the edges.

The two women were similarly attired. The older one again looked to be around forty, with short greying curly hair. The younger one Flick guessed to be about her own age, and had long tresses of chestnut brown hair that flowed freely. They sat around the fire, cutting up vegetables and putting them in the pot. Soon there was a pleasant aroma that drew Flick closer and closer.

Flick hadn’t noticed that the man was no longer by the fire, and it came as a total surprise when she felt something cold and hard at the back of her neck. ‘Who are you and why are you spying on us?’ a cold voice asked.

‘I’m not spying,’ Flick said, carefully.

‘It sure looks like it from here,’ the man said. ‘Now put your hands above your head and stand up, very slowly.’ She complied without hesitation.

The man pulled the pack from her and clasped her hands behind her back with something hard and cold, like metal. Then he patted her down, and found the hunting knife that was still shoved in her belt.

‘Well, lookie here,’ he crowed. ‘That’s a mighty big knife for a wee small girl. Planning on gutting someone, were we?’ He shoved it into his own belt. ‘You won’t need that where you’re going.’

Flick said nothing.

‘How many more of you are there?’ he demanded.

‘Just me,’ said Flick.

‘Well, we’ll see about that,’ he said, and pushed her forward. ‘Now, move.’

‘Look what I’ve caught spying on us!’ the man called as he pushed Flick into the camp.

The two women looked up from their cooking pot. Neither of them smiled, but to Flick they didn’t seem hostile either.

‘That’s nice, dear,’ the older woman said. ‘I wondered what you were up to.’

‘Planning to gut us all and steal our food, I shouldn’t wonder,’ he said. ‘She had a knife on her bigger than she is!’

The older woman looked at Flick, studying her. ‘Poor thing looks like she’s been dragged through a knothole. When was the last time you had something to eat?’
 

‘Yesterday,’ Flick replied. ‘Got some rabbit. There’s more in my pack, if he hasn’t had it.’ She shot a glance at the man.

‘And who did you kill to steal that from?’ he asked.

‘No one. I hunted it myself.’

‘I doubt that,’ he said, looking at the tattered bandages on her hands. ‘And anyway, what is in your pack?’ he asked, while pulling it open. Flick said nothing and just watched while he tipped the contents over the ground. He kicked the things around, but took interest in the various knives and arrows.

‘Planning to start an army, are we?’ he asked.

Flick shrugged. ‘It’s just my stuff. You gonna let me go or what? I ain’t done nothing to you.’ She struggled, but he had a tight grip on her.

‘And nor will you,’ he said

‘What’s your name, dear?’ the woman said, changing the subject and smiling.

‘Amelia,’ Flick replied, saying the first name that came into her head, ‘Amelia Shaw.’
 

‘Well… Amelia, I’m Jules, and this here is my daughter, Hannah. And that rude creature, I’m sorry to say is my husband, Chas.’ She turned to her husband. ‘And now Chas why don’t you release the poor girl and let her sit herself down by the fire. I’m sure she’s not going to murder us all in our beds, are you dear?’

Flick shook her head.

‘There, you see!’

‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you when we’re all dead and gutted,’ he muttered. He released the binding around Flick’s wrists, and pointed to the ground next to the fire. ‘Sit there and don’t try anything. I’ve got my eye on you.’

Flick sat by the fire and rubbed some life back into her wrists.

‘Sorry about Chas,’ Jules said, ‘I’m afraid he’s rather paranoid.’

‘And not without just cause,’ Chas replied. ‘What with Kingsmen and bandits and thugs and gangs. Even the little ‘uns will try and kill you without a second thought.’

‘Tell me about it!’ Flick said, ‘I met some of them last night. If I’m honest I’m lucky to be alive.’ She pointed at the scorch marks on her clothes.

Hannah reached across and touched the clothing, rubbing at the scorch marks and then examining and sniffing her fingers. ‘It looks burnt,’ she said.

Flick nodded.

‘Was that fire up on the hill last night anything to do with you?’ asked Chas suspiciously.

‘It wasn’t my fault, if that’s what you mean,’ said Flick, ‘but I was there, yes. Got a bit singed when a bunch of gang kids tried to burn me out.’

‘That sounds horrible!’ said Hannah.

Flick shrugged. ‘I hate to say it, but I’ve been getting used to horrible things over the past few weeks. But I lost my bow in the fire, and my bike too. So now I’m on foot.’

‘I guess that explains the arrows then,’ said Chas, ‘but you’re still not having them back.’

‘What were you doing in the woods in the first place? It’s not exactly normal for a young woman…’

Flick thought franticly for a moment. Stupid, stupid girl! She should have seen this coming.

‘My brother and I were heading to Bristol for my wedding,’ she said. ‘We got separated.’

‘Hmm. Did you not think to go back home?’

‘Why would I do that?’ Flick asked. ‘My old family doesn’t want me back; I’m getting married!’

‘Okay,’ Chas said, although the tone of his voice suggested he wasn’t convinced.

‘You said Kingsmen,’ Flick said. ‘Have you seen any?’
 

‘There was a patrol stopped us earlier this morning. They were hunting a fugitive, a sixteen year old girl, blonde, short hair, maybe on a bike.’

‘What did you tell them?’

‘We said we hadn’t seen her. Then.’

‘What do you mean
then
?’

‘I’m wondering about
now
. It does seem a very big coincidence. Have we seen her
now
?’

‘No,’ said Flick. She hoped she sounded convincing enough.

‘Who wants some lunch?’ said Jules, breaking the tension with a bowl of steaming stew.

Flick thanked them for the stew, and offered to help with the dishes.

‘Thank you dearie, you can wipe. Don’t want to go getting those bandages wet,’ Jules said.

‘That’s a very nice… wagon? What do you call it?’ Flick asked, getting to her feet.

‘It’s a vardo, a kind of caravan. Travelling folk have been using them for hundreds of years. This one belonged to my grandfather; my husband only thinks he owns it.’ She laughed, ‘He’s not a bad man, at least not really. Oh he thinks he’s tough, and he talks the talk, but really he’s a pussycat.’

‘So where are you headed?’ Flick asked, wiping a plate and stacking it on the pile.

‘Oh, here and there, wherever the fancy takes us,’ Jules replied. ‘We stay away from the towns, excepting if we need to buy stuff.’

Another plate out, dried and stacked.

‘Tell me, and tell the truth now, did you really do those things the Kingsmen said you did?’ Jules stopped, her hands still in the washing up bowl, and looked at Flick, scrutinising her.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, really. I’m just trying to find my brother and get to Bristol…’ Flick said, desperately trying to sound convincing.

‘For the wedding, yes you said. You’re really not very good at this lying business, are you, dear?’ Jules said, not unkindly.

‘How did you know?’ Flick felt her face turning red.

‘Lots of things really. First off, that was the daftest story I ever did hear; you really should think of something more convincing next time, and secondly, you match the description the Kingsmen gave us, right down to the bike which you told us you’d lost. Thirdly, no one gets to look as bedraggled as you do, unless they’re running from something. We really ought to get you cleaned up.’

‘You’re not going to turn me in?’ Flick was gripped by a momentary panic, and she looked around her, quickly sizing up escape routes.

Jules laughed. ‘To the Kingsmen? No. Although we was sorely tempted for a bit, on account of the reward. But we’re better ’n that. Which reminds me, you never did answer the question.’

‘Which was?’

‘Did you do what they said?’

‘What did they say I did?’ Flick asked cautiously.

‘Killed your pa and little sister.’

‘No.’

She put down the towel and wiped back a tear and sniffed. ‘Sorry. It was me they were after: they should have killed me.’ The tears welled up out of nowhere, and she fled across to the nearest tree, where she collapsed on the ground, sobbing.

Jules went over to her and put an arm around her. ‘Hey, it’s okay. No one’s going to turn you in.’ She smiled kindly.

A moment passed before Flick wiped her eyes. ‘You must think me really silly,’ she said.

‘Hannah!’ Jules called. ‘Fetch out some of your spare clothes for… What did you say your name was?’

‘Amelia,’ said Flick automatically before correcting herself. ‘No, it’s Felicity–Flick, you can call me Flick.’ She smiled a little, worried smile.