Rise of the Rays: Wes Markin's most heart-pounding and dark thriller yet (A DCI Yorke Thriller Book 4) by Wes Markin

Rise of the Rays: Wes Markin's most heart-pounding and dark thriller yet (A DCI Yorke Thriller Book 4) by Wes Markin

Author:Wes Markin [Markin, Wes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-27T16:00:00+00:00


Paul Ray looked down at his right hand.

He knew it was a dream, but he was glad to have it back again, if only for a short while. Life without it was going to be tough.

Above him, a raven swooped from the blackness of the treetops into the moonlight. Paul followed its path with his eyes. It turned him all the way around and he stared with both wonder, and horror, at the restored Ray farmhouse. Was he here to burn it down again? He realised that nothing would give him greater pleasure.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. ‘Son?’

He turned to face his father, but instead faced another raven, hovering several metres in front of him. ‘Dad?’

The raven squawked and rose higher into the air, turned, and flew away from Paul. It glided slowly. It wanted to be followed. Paul obliged.

As he neared the twisted tree where Reginald Ray currently fought for air at the end of a rope, Paul increased his pace. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this because, dream or no dream, he wasn’t about to save the life of this vicious killer.

Paul drew up alongside the six men. He assumed these were the soldiers who had executed his ancestor. He knew the tale well enough. The woman with them must have been Gladys, Reginald’s young wife.

Starved of oxygen, Reginald was now going into a desperate frenzy.

Despite knowing what his great-great-grandfather had done, watching him die gave Paul no pleasure. Because he was a relative? No, that had absolutely nothing to do with it. It was the fact that he knew that this death, this moment, did not close off the vile atrocities wrought by his diseased line. They had continued and, even now, might be continuing through his auntie, Lacey.

And, back in reality, who was the man pretending to be Reginald? The one who had taken his hand? Was he, too, another descendent of his grim family? Surely, to look so like this hanging man, he must be.

After Reginald had died, the raven swooped for his protruding tongue. Paul looked away in disgust and noticed that all the soldiers had disappeared. He was completely alone again.

When he looked back at Reginald, he saw that his body was covered in ravens, head-to-toe. The birds were consuming him.

Paul closed his eyes. I am ready to wake up now, I really am …

He opened his eyes and gasped. An empty noose swung from the branch. He felt someone tapping him on the shoulder.

‘Son?’

‘Dad?’ Paul turned, feeling relief swell through his body.

But it wasn’t his dad. It was Reginald Ray.

His eyes had been pecked out, his ears had been chewed into little stumps of flesh and most of the skin had been stripped from his face. He was a mess of blood and bone.

Reginald wrapped his arms around Paul and pulled him in close. He rubbed his wet, exposed flesh against Paul’s face. ‘We are blood, Paul. We are blood.’

Paul tried to pull away, but he felt locked in.



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