Inside Evil

Chapter 17 - Part II

*Inside Evil and its sequels are available on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Smashwords and iBooks*    

"Roberta wait, I'm coming with you!" Sam called from behind her as he grabbed the rucksack from the car and ran after her. Susan, Martha and Karl looked at each other, each putting together what they already knew and knowing that if they were to ever find out what this was all about it would be now, on this night. So, as Roberta disappeared into the first trees, with Sam close on her tail, the three left in the street added to the line of people that were seen dashing into the woods on the cold December night.

"Where is she going?" Martha asked breathlessly as she caught up with Sam who, though he was far younger than she, was quickly losing ground on Roberta.

"She has to find the half moon clearings. She's going to die Martha."

"I thought we had more time," Martha replied anxiously as Susan caught up and overheard the conversation.

"You know?" Sam said breathlessly, and Susan saw that his cheeks were flushed.

"Of course I know Sam. You and Roberta aren't the only ones that have been going slowly crazy these past few weeks with riddles and rhymes! We all have! She has to find the way to Gathin! She has to find...I...can't." Martha clutched her chest as she tried to get her words out and run at the same time.

"There's a precipice, she has to find the precipice," Karl panted as he finally caught up with the trio.

"Yes," Sam shouted, "There was a precipice, after the clearings, when Roberta went through the mirror."

"WHAT?" the three others all said in unison.

Sam looked at them, "We – haven't – got – time," he replied. "She's – nearly – gone!"

Looking ahead, Roberta had very nearly disappeared, outstripping the pace of her followers easily. Something drove her through the woods, keeping her feet moving and her heart pounding. She couldn't let them catch her, she had to find these clearings. At the very least, she had to put enough distance between her and the others so that should the worst happen, they'd never find her body.

Roberta had little idea where she was headed other than that she was racing towards the spot in which she thought she'd seen the figure. She vaguely heard shouts and calls of the others on her tail, but they were fading as she increased the gap and found herself alone in the woods. There was barely any light at all now that she was fully immersed in the forest, but the towering columns of the trees and lack of undergrowth allowed her to continue running, dodging past trunks as they loomed out of the dark in front of her. In the dark it was hard to tell where she was going, and Roberta desperately peered into the gloom for anything that would cause a hint of recognition. The ground beneath her feet became steeper and she knew that she was moving uphill. That was as good a direction as any.

In a small flat, several miles away, Mrs Peacock lay silently on her couch. She was getting too old and at 86, her frail body couldn't cope with the strain. The youthful body could easily accept its shadow back and forth with minimal effort, but now that she was older, it was hard to adjust to the feelings. It took her longer to recover, and each time that she separated herself it seemed as if she might never fully realign her body and spirit. She was tired of the curse and all its games; it was a constant battle that never ended. She found herself trying to keep the string of deaths to a minimum each and every time, but with her body not being able to cope anymore, she simply couldn't keep up with the pace as she had done in her younger years. Gradually, Mrs Peacock had started bending the rules, rules which she would have feared to have broken decades ago. Now, however, her time was near, and Mrs Peacock knew that it did not matter much. She shouldn't have used Sam to get the book to Martha. She shouldn't have taken the kitten all the way to Ridgewood, and if there was one thing that she'd almost certainly finally pay a penance for, it was giving James Harrow those numbers a decade ago.

An increasing fluttering behind Mrs Peacock made her look round to the mantelpiece. Inside the jar where a small tree grew, she saw that a small moth sat upon one of the leaves. Another was batting its wings on the glass, leaving soft streaks of powder behind.

Creaking as she crawled off of the couch, Mrs Peacock grabbed her cane and hobbled across to the mantelpiece. The tree stood bare, all of its leaves eaten, all of the caterpillars and eggs gone. Its crimson stalk pulsated more feverously than usual, the bands of red almost tearing through the outer bark. The pupae that dangled from the bare stems vibrated, twitched and moved. The lower ones had already broken open and four of the moths could be seen grasping onto their new life, their crisp new wings emanating a green glow.

Picking up the glass container, Mrs Peacock slowly moved across to a window, setting the tree down on the ledge. Opening the window ajar slightly, she lifted off the glass dome and let the gentle breeze blow over the vibrating pupae. The moths that had already hatched fluttered onto the sill and waited for their comrades, their tiny feet gripping the surface tightly so as not to be blown away. Almost as soon as the cold air hit the remaining pupae, small cracks started to appear and a multitude of moths began to emerge, quickly pumping their wings up and fluttering to join the others.

After a few minutes, nearly forty glowing creatures littered the sill, their little wings moving slowly up and down, preparing for take off. Mrs Peacock smiled down at them, knowing that this would be the last time that she ever saw such a scene.

"She made it this far, little ones. Don't fail me, show her the way." And, with a little flick of her hands and smile of glee, the moths took flight and hastened off towards the trees of Ridgewood, a glittering green line fluttering through the air.

*I will be posting one or two scenes a week as the story builds. However, if you can't wait that long, Inside Evil is available on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Smashwords and iBooks.

If you want to know more, visit geoffreywakeling.com, sign up to my newsletter, visit my Facebook or Tweet me. Thanks for reading, I appreciate your support.*