She sat upright, her thighs pumping in spasms, her breath venting like steam. Droplets of invisible condensation fell from the inner sheet of the tent to drip on her nose. She stifled a scream.
“Whatsgoingonshelley…?”
The mumble sounded from one of the sleeping bags. Geoff tried to raise his head then thudded back onto his makeshift pillow. A light snore purred on the other side. At least she hadn’t roused her best friend.
Shelley focussed on the world outside. The roar of the Shimna flowing by drowned out the other sounds of the forest. Some nesting birds took flight, snapping twigs and brushing branches as they fought to a new perching spot. A field mouse scurried along the bank chased by a nocturnal predator determined to catch its meal before dawn. She squeezed her jaw shut, blocking out the pounding bloodrush in her head and waited for the voice to return.
A full minute passed. Or perhaps it was five. Nothing. Just a stupid dream.
She rummaged behind her to find her phone on charge. Pulling out the cable, she pressed her eyes almost shut to catch the time. 3 a.m., the Witching Hour. She pressed the button to return to night and slid back into her warm cocoon, snuggling close to the warm male body. Geoff responded with a grunt as she spooned closer and closed her eyes, determined to catch some rest before the early start began. Whatever she thought she had heard was now a distant echo, swept along by the Shimna and into the heart of Tollymore.
Something—no—someone called out.
She bolted upright. “Geoff? Geoff! Do you hear that?”
He rolled onto his back and gave a long, low sigh.
“Any chance of just one hour of peace and quiet? I’ve been listening to you two badgering all day. Why don’t you let me slee…”
She kicked his leg and hissed: “Shhh!”
Outside, a faint whisper floated through the clamour and into the tent. It was barely audible, indistinct, but impossible to ignore.
“See?”
Geoff was unsure what he had heard. The other sleeping bag continued to slumber, oblivious to the foreign whisper.
“It sounds like a woman’s voice.”
“Come on, Shelley. There’s no way.”
“I swear to you. I heard it a few minutes ago.”
She jabbed at the small screen in her hand and the tent lit up like a light bulb. Geoff shielded his eyes as Shelley wriggled out and reached for her footwear.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to know if someone’s in trouble.”
“In Tollymore Forest? Where they made Game of Thrones?”
She had one boot on, fully laced. Geoff gave a drawn-out sigh and placed his hand on hers.
“I’ll go.”
“You don’t even believe me.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I’d rather the psycho killer get me instead of you.”
“That’s not funny.”
“You take yourself too seriously,” he said as he withdrew his mud-encrusted boots from the bag. He nodded past her.
“I see Jade hasn’t bothered to help.”
Shelley turned her phone to see her best friend enveloped from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Light ‘zzzs’ escaped from a tiny gap where the fastener ended.
“Let her sleep. Where’s your knife?”
She groped amongst the bundle of bags as Geoff rolled his eyes.
“It’s outside in my rucksack. And I don’t need it. We’re in a park, Shelley.”
Her lips pursed into a grimace. The upwards light from her phone captured every wrinkle of displeasure. He knew it was useless arguing.
“I’ll bring it with me.”
Geoff pulled on his jacket and slapped both of his cheeks with his palms. He leaned forwards and kissed his girlfriend’s brow before fumbling for the zip. It tracked the arch of the tarpaulin and a gust of wind whipped in to chatter his teeth. With one long stride, he drew himself out and up, zipping the exit closed, and switched on his phone light.
They had camped just off the river’s edge on a high embankment. The Shimna was prone to flooding at this time of year, but a break in the recent bad weather had provided a safe haven and an enjoyable amble through the mountains of Mourne. He squatted to his rucksack and opened the left side pocket. Strange. The knife wasn’t there. The right side was already open and empty. He swore under his breath. That thing had cost him a week’s wages and now it was lost in the undergrowth somewhere because he hadn’t been more careful.
Careful not to trip over the loose tree roots, he stepped over the guy ropes, and made his way down the small hill towards the sound of rushing water.
Legally, he wasn’t sure if they were allowed to stay here overnight. They had passed a sign that read ‘No camp—’ but the end bit was broken off. Jade was one of those goody-two-shoe types and they had a full-on battle of morality before Shelley stepped in with a solution. A toss of a stone: one wet side to camp, the other to walk to Donard car park and a long ride home. Wet side won and the loser hadn’t spoken to him since.
“Her loss,” he mumbled as he made his way past a park bench towards the river’s edge. The water rushed by inches away. Even in the darkness, he could see broken branches and slabs of moss getting hurled along, powerless to prevent their own departure. The bridge further downstream was being buffeted by the waves of debris crashing into its base. He remembered it was only three years ago that the freak storm hit and knocked down nature’s and humanity’s handiwork alike. The wind had dropped since they had stood on the summit of Commedagh earlier, battling to keep their balance and laughing in the face of Mother Nature as she tried to blast them off. Sadly, a little dog was not so lucky. They found its owner distraught, searching in desperation for little Benji, who she swore ran down into the forest and never returned.
Trying his best to decipher the forest rabble, he listened for Shelley’s ‘whisper’. How in the world she had heard a lady’s cry was not up for negotiation. They had been together for two years and one simple yet immutable fact rang true; don’t argue with a woman when she has her mind set. Best to agree and get things over quickly. He checked the clock on his phone: 03:11. Four more minutes ought to do it. He would come sweeping in, panting as if he had run this way and that, searching every nook and whatever a cranny was to find the damsel in distress. But, thank God, there was no one in the darkness and she could sleep soundly once again while he remained awake to ensure she and her friend were safe.
“The things I do for a quiet life.”
With nothing else to do, he followed the path that paralleled the river rushing by. Trees trailed like sentries marking the way to Parnell’s Bridge. Their roots fought to break through the trail, making him rise and fall like riding a caterpillar as he paced along. A hoot made him stop with a start. It rang from the mass of branches above his head. The owl peered down, clearly irritated at the intrusion. It leapt off its perch and swooped past his head. He dived hard onto the dirt as its talons narrowly missed his scalp.
“Damn it!”
He was caked in sludge. As he peeled himself off the ground, he saw a mud angel reflection staring blankly up at him. And that’s when he heard the muffled cry.
Please…help…
Shelley counted the seconds. Her tooth bit into her lip as she tried not to blink against the light of the screen. The tent rustled in the breeze. Jade continued to sleep, oblivious to everything. What was taking him so long? Ten minutes had passed now. The only sound she heard was the cry of a hunting owl. She squinted to see the available reception. No bars. There was an invisible barrier to this place from the outside world. It was one of the reasons they decided to trek here. Jade wanted no phones at all. Geoff argued that there was no signal anyway, but in an emergency they could run to the ranger’s hut where they knew they could phone home. They had bickered all morning. It had never really ended.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She swivelled on her bum and carefully extended her finger, prodding with the lightest of touches.
“Jade? Are you awake?”
No response.
“I heard a voice outside. Geoff’s gone to look, but he hasn’t come back. I think we need to go find him.”
Nothing but a soft snoring buzz. Out cold from the long trek. This was it, then. Two choices. Either remain here and wait for him to come back, or… The latter wasn’t that appealing. She would wait another five minutes. Yes, wait five more minutes, wake Jade up whether she wanted to or not, then go get Geoff and get the hell out of there.
The plea came from the riverside. Geoff swivelled his neck around, trying to pin the source. It then struck him that his phone was still stuck in the mud. He pulled it out with an audible plop, rubbed it clean on his jeans, and turned the light towards the whisper.
There was a deep drop just where the path met the bank. He peered over, but it arched inwards.
“Hello? Is there anyone there?”
A faint gasp groaned out.
“It’s okay. I’m coming down.”
He stood straight and turned towards the direction of the tent then stopped. It would take a few minutes to get Shelley and Jade then a few minutes to run back here. Plus, he wasn’t too sure where here was.
Pulling his sleeves up, he scouted a spot to land. There was a flat rock that the Shimna hadn’t covered about three feet below. Stuffing his phone into his back pocket, he leapt with a prayer. The sole of his boot landed on the midpoint of the rock, but his momentum carried him forward. His other foot plunged into the icy depths and he bent with a snap to grab hold of something, anything to keep himself from fully falling in. His fingers found a broken tree trunk in the darkness. It was enough to press against, rebounding him towards the hollow, and allowing him to pull his soaked leg out and onto the rock again.
Puffing and panting, he peered into the dark arch. A crumpled mass lay half in the muck and half in the foaming water. He whipped out his phone and saw the clear figure of a young woman lying on her side clutching her stomach. Her moans, at least, told him she was still alive.
“I’m going to try and help you up.”
Balancing on one dry boot, he placed the other to dig into the dirt near her knees. Gingerly moving his weight, he drew closer, inches away from her face which was covered by long strands of soaked black hair. She was gasping in short bursts. He shone the light down her body to see if there were any obvious signs of damage, like a broken arm or leg. Then he recoiled. Her jacket was bathed in blood.
“Shelley. Help Shelley.”
That voice. He knew it. Hell, he had been arguing with it all day.
“Jade?”
He brushed away the hair. Jade’s face was ashen pale as if drained by the forest itself. She lifted up her hand, uncovering the knife wound in her belly. A whisper rattled from the depths of her throat.
“The tent. He’s in the tent.”
Five minutes was up. It was time to act.
“Jade. Wake up. Geoff’s in trouble. We need to go. Now.”
The sleeping bag barely moved. Cursing, Shelley reached out to drag on her boots. As she did, she saw something shiny on the ground by her friend’s feet. Something shiny and red. And sticky.
“SHELLEY! RUN!”
Geoff’s yell rang through the forest from somewhere near the Shimna. She didn’t have time to register the blood as she sprang to her knees. She grabbed hold of Jade’s form in the sleeping bag and shook hard.
The knife pierced through the outer lining in one fluid motion. It caught the palm of her hand, penetrating the skin. The blade tore through the fabric as she pulled back with a shriek. The light of her phone was extinguished as it fell.
Shelley’s screams echoed to the Shimna before fading to a solemn whisper.