Intermittent flashes of lightning revealed the scene in oddly frozen tableaux. The car park was a scene of carnage. People were frantically running for cover like frightened rabbits from a group of men on horseback who were filled with the dangerous majesty of the storm. At least Church thought they were men; their faces were swathed in shadows. They wore furs and armour like barbarians from the steppes and brandished long poles with cruel sickles at the end, which they used to herd and hook the terrified, fleeing people. And at their heart was one larger and more terrifying than all the others. Church knew he would see him in his nightmares for the rest of his life: the Erl-King.
Their horses' eyes glowed red, like the eyes of Black Shuck, and the breath vented from their nostrils in gusts of steaming vapour. And around their hooves ran a pack of alien dogs with strange red and white fur, long and lean, with glittering yellow eyes, harrying the prey with snapping jaws.
There was too much blood. Church, Ruth and Laura watched in horror as the strange sickle implements tore at flesh, severed joints, sliced into muscle. In each flash they could see more bodies piling up. One horse clattered on to the roof of a car, caving it in before smashing down on to the bonnet without losing its footing. A sickle ripped open a wing, flicked out a door, like it was gutting some beast. No one could escape the hunting men. Soon there would be no one left.
An exclamation made Church, Ruth and Laura turn. Simon was behind them, watching the monstrous butchery over their shoulders. 'My God! My God!' His voice rose to a whine of shock and horror. He grabbed Church's arm in desperation. 'What's going on?'
Church's head was spinning. He'd thought they could hide away. He should have known they wouldn't be allowed, and now others were paying the awful price for his mistake.
Simon ran around shrieking until Stuart emerged to see what was wrong. When he followed Simon's pointing to the window, he suddenly bolted towards the door. Church caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and intercepted him. 'Don't go out there,' he pleaded. 'You won't stand a chance.'
'But someone's got to help them!' he said desperately.
Simon was on his knees in front of the window, sobbing uncontrollably at the horror. 'What's happening?' he whined.
Church looked from Stuart to Simon and then at the others. 'We've got to do something,' he said hollowly. 'It's our fault.'
Laura glanced out at the wild scene; it made her think of a film she'd seen of piranhas feeding on a carcass. 'If we go out there, they'll kill us.'
There was a brief instant when they all felt ice in their hearts and then Ruth said bluntly, 'He's right.' There was no fear in her face; just a blind acceptance of their fate. 'It's our responsibility.'
Church nodded in agreement, but Laura whirled, her equanimity stripped away by fear. 'You're crazy! I'm not walking out there to be butchered!' She sucked in a deep gulp of air. 'We can't sacrifice ourselves! We're the only ones who can stop all this. We're important! That's what they all say, right?'
Church snatched up her hand; time was running out. 'We can't let those people die. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And neither would you.' There was an instant when another outburst seemed likely, but then her face, her whole body sagged, as if his words had reached the rational part of her mind closed off by terror. With a despairing acceptance that pained Church, she pulled back her hand and turned away from him, saying nothing.
'We can still make this work,' Church said, turning to Ruth, the adrenalin suddenly thumping through his system. 'We split up. You and Laura run for the car. You've got the Stone. Try to get as far away from here as you can. I'll go in the other direction. I'm betting they'll follow me. In fact, I know they will.'
'You're crazy,' Laura muttered. 'You won't get twenty feet on foot. Look at those horses, you idiot.' There were tears in her eyes.
'I've got a bike out back,' Stuart interjected. 'A scrambler. It will get you over rough ground.' You ridden one before?'
'A long time ago.' Church glanced out of the window one final time and then he was racing off with Stuart.
They hauled the bike through in seconds. Church threw Ruth the car keys before he jumped on, fired it up and positioned it in front of the door.
The desperation in their shared glance masked their emotions, and then Ruth said quietly, 'You can count on us. Take care.'
Church smiled, lowered his head and nodded to Stuart. There was a freezing gust as the storm blasted in, then Church popped the clutch. He had to fight to keep it upright in the wind and for a second he thought he'd lost control as the bike bounced down the steps of the porch. But then he righted himself on the puddled road, snatched on the accelerator and roared off without glancing back.
He didn't need to check if the Huntsmen had seen him. From his back came a roar of jubilation that rose above the noise of the storm; the hunt was on. Hooves clattered like gunshots. The horses shrieked like banshees and the dogs howled as one, ready to be loosed on the prey.
Church was shaking with terror. The only conscious thoughts that flared in his mind were images of him being torn apart by savage jaws, but his motor instinct took over, guiding the scrambler along the road at full speed.
No horse should have been able to keep up with such a powerful bike, but he could hear the thunder of the hooves and the wild whoops of the riders drawing closer. He allowed himself one glance back, but the image of the Satanic Hunt bearing down on him was so terrible he knew he would not be able to look again.
He swung the bike off the road in the futile hope that the rough ground might slow the riders, but he knew in his heart it was only a matter of time. The wheels chewed up grass and mud as he roared out into the heart of the moor. While the storm whipped him from side to side, the bike sloughed around as it countered the dips and hollows that made the going so treacherous. Even with the headlamps on full beam, Church could barely see the outcroppings of rock which he knew could be the end of him.
The hollers and whoops of the riders became almost sounds of nature, caught on the wind, soaring up to the clouds, filled with the passion of the hunt, the lust for blood. And then, from the midst of them, came a low, mournful sound that seemed to suck all other noise out of the air. Church shivered. It was the hunting horn of the Erl-King.
Church gunned the bike over a rise so fast both wheels left the ground. Somehow he kept it upright when it landed. The countryside had grown even wilder, and just as he started to wonder how many miles he had put between himself and the pub, the ground suddenly disappeared beneath his feet and he was falling in darkness. He had only a few seconds to question what was happening as the engine roared out of control, and then his head hit something and he plunged into unconsciousness.
Chapter Ten
Ruth and Laura choked back their emotions as they sprinted across The Green Man's car park, which now resembled an abattoir among the burning wreckage of several cars and a minibus. The few survivors were slowly beginning to stumble out from underneath vehicles or the deep shadows where they had been hiding, transformed by the shock and horror into scurrying animals, wide-eyed and dumb.
They were relieved to find the Nissan had not been harmed during the Hunt's attack. Ruth jumped into the driver's seat and sparked the ignition, releasing the clutch before Laura had time to settle in. She was thrown back into her seat as the tires screamed and whirled on the spot, sloughing the car around the park before it roared on to the road.
'Yee haw,' Laura said mutedly.
Heading in the opposite direction to Church and the Hunt, Ruth found the road signposted for Buckfastleigh, ten miles away. She was surprised she didn't feel more scared. Instead, she felt a cold determination to do the right thing, and an awareness for the first time that what they had to achieve was more important than everything; even her own life.
