The Fall by Kenneth Steven

Author:Kenneth Steven
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: World Castle Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-05-17T12:19:48+00:00

Chapter Seven

The cold seemed to intensify all the time. We were hardly dressed for this, with all our warmest clothes at the other end of Garth. A dozen times, I felt like telling Trevor to give this up, to go back to deal with the damage, to deal with the intruders, but I knew he wouldn’t listen to me anyway, and I held my tongue. We entered a last, strange-shaped room on the ground floor that had windows around several sides. I saw something moving too late, the shadow of a man pouncing from beside the wall, and he got one arm locked around Trevor’s neck and a knife at his throat.

He laughed mockingly. “Well, that was easy.” He looked at me. He was dark, and in the lamplight, I could see his long, straggly hair and close-set black eyes. “Right. I suppose you managed to cope with my two friends and thought the game was all over. I reckon it’s time you fat cats shared a little of your feast with the rest of the world. Otherwise,” he jerked Trevor’s head sharply and painfully backwards, “I’ll make you bleed extraordinarily slowly.”

I led the way back to the entrance hall. It didn’t even enter my head to try anything. I was willing to bet this guy would do pretty much what he threatened if he had to. When the other two saw us, their expressions said it all. We had to free the one who’d been bound. At least I did—the knife point was still held millimeters from Trevor’s Adam’s apple. I thought that might well be it, that they’d kill us there and then. The guy who’d forced his way in at the door lunged towards me at once.

“Leave it out, Ditchfield,” the fellow with the knife growled. “No point killing them before we know a bloody thing about the place.”

I moved back from the guy called Ditchfield, and something flashed across my mind. I had a sudden mental picture of the men who had pursued us across the field behind Tavisdale, and in particular, the one Trevor had booted. I was fairly convinced this was the guy, and I hoped to God I was wrong. I kept looking away and trying to do anything but meet his gaze. Mercifully, he was still more interested in the state of his head.

“All right, food and something to drink,” the guy with the knife said. Suddenly he relaxed his hold on Trevor. “Three against two—you haven’t a hope in hell of getting out of here alive even if you fancy twenty-five degrees of frost.” He crashed down in a wicker chair in the hallway. “All the same, one of us with you the whole time, ‘cos I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. Marris, you go with Skinny there, and I’ll keep an eye on this bastard. Something tells me he might need a kicking before the night’s out. Ditchfield, see what you can find around this place that’s worth selling.

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