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7. sabotaged

Anne made her way down the track for what felt like an hour. She eventually came to a fork in the road. Which way had they ridden from? If the sun was up she would have been able to tell the direction of the sunrise and sunset and therefore be able to use it to compass herself home to Green Gables. Anne was in possession of many useful skills she'd picked up as an orphan.

Anne gazed up at the milky moon with resignation. It shone down on her apologetically, as though wishing it could tell her the right way to go. If only I were the moon, thought Anne. I would be able to see the way home from way up in the sky.

Anne closed her eyes and turned slowly around on the spot, arm stretched out with a pointing finger deciding her fate. She winced as she moved, her other hand clutching her side. It was warm and wet still, and searingly painful.

Anne opened her eyes and followed her finger to the path she must take. Let's hope the moon was guiding my hand, else I'll be lost soon enough. Anne wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to last. She felt dizzier every step she took. She'd surely pass out again before long.

...

"Gilbert what if she wasn't even on the wagon? It could be entirely coincidental..." Diana suggested. "Anne could have passed this way hours before this accident happened."

Gilbert was still sifting through the wreckage, heart hammering. His mind was oddly blank, as though he could not think properly until he knew where Anne was. He barely registered Diana's words. He knew she could be right. Yet he needed this to be some sort of lead as to where Anne was, he felt helpless if it was unrelated. All they had to go on before was a theory.

"Gilbert, we should go. We could still catch her up." Diana said.

Gilbert lifted a sheet and he saw more relatively fresh blood on a large piece of wood. It made him feel sick. He wasn't nauseous when he saw blood, but the thought of it once belonging to Anne made him sick with worry.

"Diana." He said and his voice came out hoarse.

Diana came over and her face fell even more. She hesitated before saying, "It might not be Anne's." She murmured.

"It might be." He said. "Look."

Gilbert picked up a scrap of fabric. He bit his lip as he examined it. There was no doubt this time. He handed it to Diana wordlessly.

"Oh." Diana saw the cloth and the look on her face confirmed what Gilbert already knew.

The fabric soaked in blood was torn from Anne skirts. It was thick brown cotton, the kind she'd regularly complain about about being so plain and dull. Gilbert looked at Diana, silently pleading her for answers.

"We must go back, Gil. We need help."

He shook his head.

"What if something happened to her?" Gilbert's voice was choked and unfamiliarly weak. "She could be in danger."

Diana gazed at the boy and realised then that he cared for Anne a whole lot more than he let on. She already knew he and Anne's rivalry hid a secret desire to be friends, a secret admiration of shared intellect. But she never dreamt that Gilbert Blythe would be smitten with the girl he nicknamed Carrots on her first day of school.

"She needs us, Diana." He said, almost begging.

"Okay." Diana sighed. "We'll keep searching. But I honestly believe we should back back. If Anne was hurt she would go back to town, to find a doctor. This is a lot of blood, she's probably badly hurt."

"If this is all from Anne, she wouldn't make it far." Gilbert muttered. "We could catch her up."

Diana nodded, and mounted the horse. Gilbert climbed on in front, as he was the better rider due to working his dad's farm as a boy. Gilbert took a last glance at the crash site before fixing his eyes on the road and spurring the horse on their way.

...

Joseph Bines was angry.

The night had not gone to plan, and now he'd be in big trouble. This Anne girl had sabotaged his robbery. He had been thrown off the horse after the wagon crashed and landed in the forest. His arm was gashed open but he bound it up from his torn shirt and inspected the crash. The Anne girl was alive, losing blood slowly from a deep slice in her side. One of the riders had thrown a blade. Joseph hadn't expected that.

Joseph had underestimated a lot that night. He thought Anne was perfect for the robbery. She was ready to help an almost stranger within days of meeting him. She was very imaginative and expressive so easily pinned as a liar. She was a orphan so she had a lot of stereotypes attached to her as being a rough, dangerous criminal.

Joseph Bines laid out the plan. He'd steal the wagon and hide the loot. When the police heard about the job he'd deny all involvement and Anne would be blamed as she'd try to tell the truth but be seen as a lying thief covering her tracks. As soon as the case was closed he'd leave town with the gold and move onto the next job. He'd been doing this job for a long while and he knew what he was doing. Perhaps this was the reason he was so angry that this girl of around 14 had ruined his plans.

Joseph searched the woods for a while for the riders, before heading back to wake up Anne. He planned to warn her against reporting this to the police.

But Anne was gone. There was just a lot of blood smeared on the wood. Joseph cried out in frustration and anger. He kicked the wreckage and shards of wood flew across the road. He saw something glimmering in the carcass of the wagon. It was the silver knife... Joseph slowly picked it up and smiled.

He'd find Anne and get his revenge. She'd never dare to snitch after he was finished with her.