Waking the Witch by Rachel Burge

Waking the Witch by Rachel Burge

Author:Rachel Burge
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471411335
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2022-03-17T15:20:47.602000+00:00


15

We stop to rest at the top of the hill, and Tom bends to rub his ankle. A thin film of sweat covers his forehead and his hand is trembling. He holds my gaze for a beat then looks away, his eyes filled with anxiety. I wish I could reassure him that everything will be OK, but how can I? He straightens up and stares toward the misty sea, his face unreadable. He hasn’t said a word since we watched the boat leave, but I have to know.

‘Did you see it?’

He nods, not taking his gaze from the horizon.

‘You saw the shadow?’

‘Yes.’

I expect him to ask me about it and demand that I tell him everything I know, but he doesn’t. He releases a heavy breath and limps off down the path, his shoulders slumped.

When we reach the farmhouse, I check the quad bike and find the key in the ignition. The petrol is low but it should be enough to get us to the cottage. The thought of my mum doing this ritual alone sends a jolt of worry through me. I need to get back – and quickly.

Tom gives me a sceptical look. ‘Have you driven one before?’

‘No, but it can’t be that hard.’

I arrange our bags in the trailer and he climbs inside. Once I’m sure he’s comfortable, I straddle the bike and start the engine.

‘You OK?’ I call, glancing back.

He doesn’t answer, his attention taken by his phone, and I almost don’t dare to hope.

‘Do you have network coverage?’

His stricken face tells me the answer.

David warned us there was no mobile signal and no way to contact the outside world if we got into trouble. He’s the only person who knows we’re here, and our only way of returning to the mainland. My heart sinks, but then I remember the confused look on his face when he realised his head was bleeding. If he’s anything like anorak man, he won’t remember what happened and will return to the island as planned.

I try to sound positive. ‘He said he was coming again in a week.’

Tom’s jaw tightens. ‘And if the same thing happens?’

I twist back around in my seat, unable to answer.

The truth is that I don’t know anything. I don’t know why a group of witches from another world would want to hurt me, or why the shadows didn’t possess the boatman on the crossing over. My mum said that with some people it can take longer for them to get inside, but they always find a way. Maybe it will be her attacking me next time, or Tom.

I squeeze the throttle and the bike gives a throaty roar and then dies. I start it again and it lurches into life. Concentrating hard, I ease the throttle and do my best to keep it steady as I take us onto the track. The trailer rattles along behind me and Tom curses when we hit a bump. I can’t blame him for being angry. If I hadn’t talked him into coming, he’d be on the mainland now.



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