Becoming (10 page)

The decision had been made, and Gaia needed to act now and get to the hideout. The others would be there and waiting. Gaia gripped the knife, sprung through the door, and rushed across the passage. She pounced onto Clara before there was time to react, clasping  her hands against the helpless girl’s mouth to prevent any screams. Clara’s petrified eyes stared back at Gaia, filled with alarm, fear and a quizzical look. Gaia pressed the blade against Clara’s neck, her skin was soft and smooth. Gaia’s voice was a soft, precise whisper.

‘Try to stay calm. Make a sound and I’ll cut your throat. Do you understand me?’

Clara nodded, her bold blue eyes still flooded with fear.

‘You’re going to stand and turn around slowly. Face the wall and put your hands behind your back. OK?’

Clara nodded again, as Gaia guided Clara to her feet, keeping her hand pressed against the girl’s mouth at all times. Gaia could feel Clara’s body trembling, sense the panic, see it burning into the girl’s eyes. Gaia turned Clara around and pushed her face against the wall, the knife against her throat, Gaia’s hand still pressed on Clara’s mouth. Gaia leant in and put her mouth to Clara’s ear.

‘Now I’m going to take my hand from your mouth. If I even sense a scream I’ll cut it from your throat. I don’t want to hurt you.’

Gaia eased her hand away from Clara’s mouth, feeling the girl’s saliva in her palm. Clara remained pressed against the wall, not wanting to move, still paralysed with fear.

‘I’ll explain everything soon, but for now all you need to know is you’re coming with me. You’re not in any danger, just so long as you do as I say and don’t try anything stupid. Do you understand?’

Clara paused, and shook her head. Clara whispered, her voice soft, fragile, pleading.

‘Yes. Please don’t hurt me.’

‘I won’t unless I have to. Now I’m going to tie your hands.’

Gaia stood back pressing the blade of the knife against Clara’s back. Gaia opened her rucksack with her one free hand and removed a bundle of string. Using both hands she unravelled a piece, cut it free and bound Clara’s hands together behind her back. Gaia took out a handkerchief.

‘Turn and face me.’

Clara turned. She was taller than Gaia, had long dark hair with a natural beauty that was in no doubt. Her cheeks were flushed red and draped in her tears. The self pity of rejection had been replaced with confusion and fear. Gaia forced Clara’s mouth open and shoved the handkerchief in, just enough to muffle any sound, but not choke her. The look of terror had begun to subside, and was being replaced with disdain.

‘Before we get going I need to make this very clear. Don’t get any ideas. You’re coming with me. Do exactly as you’re told and you’ll be fine.’

Gaia took some spare clothes from her rucksack, unbound Clara’s arms and passed them to her. Gaia found some boots by the door.

‘Put these on. They’ll have to do for now.’

Once dressed Gaia ties Clara’s hands again, in front this time, making sure they were secure. Gaia led Clara to the main door, unlocked and opened it. The fresh, cool air of the clear, crisp night swept through the door and blasted them. Tugging at Clara’s bound hands, Gaia stepped outside, locked the door and led them across the field and into the woods. A bright white moon shone high overhead. It had already reached the peak of its journey across the sky and was making its slow and true descent towards the horizon. The night had not yet fully matured, with the brightness of the moon still far from waning. They needed to make the most of its light and guidance. Gaia found its glow comforting.

They entered the woods, Gaia dragging Clara behind her, clutching the strings that bound her. Clara stumbled and faltered, lacking the heart or conviction, trying to be as awkward as she could. Every now and then Gaia would flash the knife in her hand just to remind Clara. There should be no doubts that Gaia would use it, if only as a last resort.

They followed a rough path into the woods. It was not clear or laid out, but Gaia was processing the route all the time, confident her strong memory would get them to where they needed to be. Soon they reached the area, though it was difficult to tell in the dark. Gaia recognised the thicker foliage of the bush where the hideout was, and the branches of the door concealing the entrance. Gaia stopped and listened. There was no sound other than the gentle hush of the night breeze as it danced through the trees, and the rustle of the leaves and branches as they swayed overhead. There were no voices, not even whispers. 

Gaia led Clara to the branches of the entrance and peeled them back. There was the passage, the arch bent overhead. Gaia could see the glow of a candle at the end of the entrance tunnel ahead, the silhouette of what appeared to be two figures sitting on the logs either side. Gaia could not make out the faces, but was sure one of them was Aran. She dragged Clara through the entrance, pulling the branches behind, then made her way along the short, narrow entrance. As they entered the domed area of the hideout the faint light of the candle revealed the right side of Aran’s face, looking up at her. A smile, a mixture of worry and relief was stretched across his face. Sat on the log opposite Aran was another boy. Gaia recognised him, but did not know his name. Such was the narrow entrance that Gaia’s body had concealed the surprise behind her. The boys had not yet noticed they had a visitor, an extra guest for the journey, an unwanted and unwilling guest, a prisoner.

‘What kept you? Is it sorted?’

‘Yes, but we’ve got a problem.’

‘What is it?’

Gaia moved round to reveal Clara crouching in the opening to the passage. Clara’s mouth was still filled with the handkerchief, hands still bound by the string. The faces of the others dropped. Aran thrust an angry look at Gaia.

‘What the hell’s she doing here?’

‘I had no choice. I found her whimpering outside Hakan’s door, as I was about to leave. She just sat there, wouldn't budge. I couldn’t get out and the time was getting on. I waited, but I had no other choice. It was too risky to leave her.’

‘This blows everything wide open.’

Aran looked across at Clara. She gazed back, her eyes pleading for pity and mercy. Aran was a boy and Clara knew how to play them. Perhaps he would take pity and leave her, or set her free. The boys would see the madness in this, the insanity in Gaia. There was no getting through to Gaia, but Aran was different. He would come round. Aran knew Clara, and was well aware of her style. He had seen such girls before, and had no time for them. Aran looked away at Gaia, the source of this problem. The explanation had better be good.

‘What have you got planned Gaia?’

Gaia moved round and sat on the log beside the other boy who remained silent. He deferred to Aran, the leader and orchestrator. Gaia gestured to Clara to sit on the log opposite. Clara stepped over the candle and sat beside Aran, hurling a bitter, accusative glance at Gaia. Clara lifted her bound hands, winced as if in pain, and shuffled and fidgeted. Gaia ignored her.

‘I know how this looks, but if I had any other choice I wouldn’t have brought her. We can take her with us, and leave her once we get across the causeway. We tie her up, but in good view. They’ll find her in a few hours once the tide goes out. We’ll be long gone by then.’

Aran shook his head, banging his forehead with his fist. The last thing they wanted was to drag an extra body along, a reluctant one at that. There had to be another way.

‘Could we not just leave the girl here? We can keep her tied up and gagged.’

‘It’s too risky. She’ll try and escape and we haven’t got anything strong enough to keep her tied securely in here. That string I’ve used for her hands is no good. It’d take her no time to get out of that. There’s too many risks leaving her. Once she gets free, she’ll just alert the leaders and we’ve lost our head start. No, we can’t risk it.’

Aran thought for a while. Gaia was right. There were too many problems in leaving Clara here. Like Gaia, Aran would not contemplate killing an innocent. He knew that Gaia being here meant she had succeeded in killing Hakan. That was different. Hakan deserved what he got, but Clara did not. She was not a threat to their lives and killing should always be the last resort. It would be cold, heartless, brutal murder. They were better than that. They had to take her with them.

‘OK. I don’t like it, but we’ll have to go with it, but you watch her and if she tries any funny business you deal with her. If you don’t I will. Did you hear that Clara?’

Clara nodded, still trying to plead for mercy with her eyes, clutching the faintest thread of hope they would change their minds and leave her here. Unable to plead her case in words Clara replied with desperation. Her eyes were the key. They were so powerful, the weapon of choice, but missing the mark, failing to win Aran over. Both Aran and Gaia had other priorities and worries. They were smart, and ruthless, and knew Clara would try to get free. They were right. There was nothing Clara would like better than to see Gaia get caught and suffer for this humiliation.

Aran gestured to the boy by Gaia’s side who shuffled round to face Gaia, and held out his hand.

‘Gaia this is Yann.’

‘Hi. I’ve seen you round, but I don’t think we’ve spoken.’

Gaia took his hand. His grip was limp and flimsy. Yann replied.

‘I know you. So you’re part of this crack team Aran has put together.’

‘Yep. I hope I come up to scratch.’

Yann had short, jet black hair, with skin dark and pimpled. His lips were prominent, pouting, the skin cracked and flaky. He was thick set, not muscular, and not fat, but stocky. His face was round and full, and even in the dim light Gaia noticed his eyelashes were unusually long for a boy, giving his face a feminine quality. Yann’s cheeks looked flush in the cold night air, the crisp, biting weather highlighted the purple spots that littered his face in clusters. Gaia looked at Aran.

‘Are we waiting for anyone else?’

‘One more. She should be here by now. If she’s not here soon we’ll go. We can’t afford to wait any longer. We need to get to the causeway before the tide turns. Once it does the water comes in quickly, especially when the moon is as full as this.’

There was a brief silence. They all gazed at the flickering candle, drawn by its mesmerising glow, the only glimmer of warmth in the cold darkness. The night song of the woods played out beyond the protective canopy of branches. There was a crack, the sound of a branch or a twig breaking. There were footsteps, light, and careful but still noticeable. They all tensed, and Gaia put her hand on the handle of her knife. Everyone held their breath and looked toward the tunnel that led to the doorway to the hideout. They could not see the end, but they listened, searching the darkness, grasping for clues. There was the sound of the branches being pulled back, the movement of someone entering, the swish of the foliage returning. There was the shuffling of footsteps, and a face came into view. It was the face of a girl. At first it did not register with Gaia, at first unsure, but the realisation hit her, the shock, the horror, the surge of emotion. It was her, the one person Gaia had never imagined, Freya.

Gaia jumped to her feet, and moved towards Freya. The knife was from its sheath as Gaia grabbed Freya by the hair, pulling her head to the floor, and dragging her body down to the ground. Gaia placed her knee on the top of Freya’s back, and pinned her to the earth, her face biting the cold dirt. The knife was hanging by the side of Freya’s face, a warning not to move. Aran dived at Gaia, while Yann flung himself back in shock.

The speed of Gaia’s movement took everyone by surprise, especially Freya who lay there with no attempt to react.

‘What the hell Gaia?’

Aran grabbed Gaia, and eased back. His hand was touching Gaia’s shoulder. He was gentle, wanting to reassure, careful not to cause any further alarm. Gaia’s face was seething with anger, a mist cast across her stare.

‘What do you mean? What’s
she
doing here. She works for Kali. It’s her spy.’

Freya remained silent, her face still pressed into the ground, lips contorted by the pressure of Gaia’s weight. Aran looked puzzled, still nervous and wary of Gaia, not wanting her to react. He wanted to give her time to simmer down, so he could explain.

‘No Gaia. You’re wrong. She’s coming with us. I’ve been planning this with Freya for a while now. She’s one of us. You can trust her. Believe me. Now let her go, and I’ll explain.’

The expression on Gaia’s face changed. Something had registered. The switch that had been triggered was clicking back into place. The blind intensity of her anger had been punctured by Aran’s words. Gaia was processing them, trying to make sense of them.
You’re wrong. She’s one of us. You can trust her. Believe me.
Could it be true? Freya? The person she had hated because of Kali. Aran had to be wrong, he had to have been duped. This was all part of Freya and Kali’s plan, a trap to snare them.

‘No way Aran. She’s tricked you. She’s Kali’s spy I know it!! I’ve seen her crawling up to her, whispering. Just today I saw it. She was probably telling her everything. I bet they’re coming now. It’s over. We’re finished.’

‘No Gaia! Listen. You’re wrong. Put the knife away and let her go. Let me explain. You’re hurting her. Please Gaia. We have to go.’

Gaia removed her knee from Freya’s back and got to her feet.