One Night To Wed

The woman, a Mrs McKay, was still standing nearby with a blanket draped over her shoulders and an ambulance officer close beside her.

‘I knew something was going to happen,’ Angus had heard her say to his commanding officer just before their briefing. ‘Never seen them before and they came into my shop like they owned it. Said they were mates of Darren Blythe and wanted to know where he lived.’

Darren, according to Blair, was on bail. He’d been arrested and charged with the possession of an illegal substance only days ago and it had become evident that he was selling cannabis on behalf of the Barrett brothers.

Whether the older men were cultivating a commercial supply themselves had been something Blair had intended to investigate but it now seemed likely that they had, in fact, been helping themselves to a crop being carefully nurtured by an out-of-town syndicate using the native bush as cover for a large-scale operation.

‘They’ve all gone too far to be able to back down,’ the police chief inspector reminded the squad. ‘The firing of weapons has been indiscriminate and we have an unknown number of casualties out there. A greater number of residents are still in their own homes and in danger but we can’t start evacuation until we know where the offenders are located.’

And that could be impossible to find out, given the area that needed clearing and the total lack of light. The house fire that had started maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago stood out like a huge beacon and had the effect of making everything else look far darker. No lights showed in any of the dwellings.

It was all ominously black.

And very quiet.

Terrified people were hiding in these scattered houses.

And one of them was Felicity Slade.

It was an enormous relief when the briefing finally finished. A large police van, with no lights, was used to move the squad across the bridge, where it parked with its rear doors close to the side wall of the general store. The location and lack of windows in Mrs McKay’s establishment made it an ideal base for the police operation, and heavy shrubbery that bordered the adjacent small car park afforded cover to those members of the squad who silently melted into the blackness. They dispersed in single units and pairs to make their way to their allocated sectors.

Angus and his police companion, Seth, were going to Green Sector which covered a street that contained a church, memorial hall, several houses and the doctor’s surgery. It was neither coincidence nor a personal request that had landed Angus what would have been a chosen destination. As a paramedic and unable to carry anything other than very limited gear, the facility of the community’s medical centre could well be needed.

Only Tom knew the relief Angus experienced at having been handed the opportunity to check on the whereabouts and safety of his ex-partner at such an early stage of an operation that could easily not be resolved until daylight.

It was not something Angus was about to share with anyone else, including Seth. He owed it to his partner to remain as focussed as humanly possible on the immediate task they had.

He followed Seth. Very slowly. Moving from one safely sheltered spot to the next, only after waiting and watching long enough to lessen the risk that they weren’t alone.

It wasn’t just the offenders that they had to worry about, either. The possibility that some residents had been able to arm themselves and were ready to protect their lives and property was very real. A shadowy, black figure moving past their hedge or garden shed would appear terrifying. It could well be too late by the time they could identify themselves as the good guys so they needed to remain hidden from anyone as far as possible. For the same reason, they would have to treat anyone they encountered with the same kind of caution. Staying in one place would have created tension. Moving towards an unknown destination in foreign territory made it almost unbearable.

It was taking forever to get back to what now felt like safety—being within four walls and behind a locked door.

Fliss crept between hiding places and every time she moved just a few metres, she had to crouch and wait until her heart stopped hammering and her breathing slowed so that she could actually hear more than the blood pounding in her head.

Then she would wait, listening intently for anything that might indicate danger. The Bennies’ unkempt orchard, with its long grass and overgrown apple trees whose branches mingled with each other, provided reasonable cover but the black tree trunks and twisted branches looked like stationary figures. It was also a haven for wild creatures and Fliss broke out in a sweat at the rustling a nearby hedgehog made.

Having reached the end of the orchard, there was a far more daunting space to cross. The tiny cemetery with its headstones casting pools of black shadow so dark they looked like deep, water-filled holes. Fliss had never realised how many shades of black existed and they all seemed threatening tonight.

It took a long time to gather her courage for the next step of this journey and in those lonely moments Fliss stared at the gravestones and tried not to think of the times she had attended burial services. Of the desolation she’d experienced as a ten-year-old child, watching her father being laid to rest.

Of the guilt and helplessness when she’d stood at her mother’s graveside only a few years later.

Fliss might never have found the courage she needed to move into the cemetery if she hadn’t heard the faint call.

‘Help…please…Someone help me!’

It was a woman’s voice. A woman who was in pain and terrified. Possibly the one whom Fliss and Jack had heard scream what seemed like hours before.

Fliss couldn’t not respond to the plea for help. The part of her that could forget anything personal and focus totally on the needs of someone else took over, and when she moved this time it was with a confidence and stealth she had been all too aware of lacking up till now.

She almost made it to the crumpled figure lying between a tall headstone and the marble angel that was so old its nose had crumbled off. But by the time she saw the black figure launch itself at her from the shadow of another headstone it was far to late to even turn, let alone try to flee or defend herself.

She landed in the grass, face down, with a jolt that forced any air out of her lungs, and the pain of trying to breathe again almost overwhelmed the fear that came with the knowledge that she was about to die.

It was a male figure pinning her to the ground. No woman could weigh that much and still have the feel of iron-clad muscle and untold strength. Why hadn’t he shot her, like the others? Had he finally run out of ammunition? Was he going to kill her by some much slower and therefore more horrendous method?

Fear kicked in then, and Fliss struggled, ready to fight for her life.

She felt herself turning onto her back but her arms were pinned to the ground on either side of her head and her legs were still crushed by the weight of her attacker.

The struggle was silent and fierce. The paralysing effect on her diaphragm from the initial body blow meant that Fliss couldn’t draw enough breath to scream yet. When she found she could suck in some oxygen, she stopped struggling for a split second to do just that.

And in that moment she focussed on the face hovering so close to her own. She could see the features that were well disguised but not altered by the black substance that covered them.

Could see dark eyes that were staring back at her with an extraordinary expression.

A strangled sound like a sob finally escaped Fliss. A release of terror. The birth of something far more welcome.

Her hoarse whisper was a desperate plea to confirm what she thought she was seeing.

‘Angus?’

CHAPTER THREE

‘SHH!’ ANGUS LAID a gloved finger on her lips, with just enough pressure to remind Fliss that they could both be in danger right now.

He raised his head and gave a curt nod, as though responding to an unseen message from someone else.

‘OK,’ he whispered, removing his finger. ‘We’re covered. But keep very still, Fliss, and speak very quietly.’

She simply nodded, still trying to take in the fact that Angus was here. It hadn’t felt exactly like protection, though, had it? Being tackled like that and hurled to the ground.

‘I thought you were him,’ she whispered, a long moment later. ‘That you were going to kill me.’

A gleam in the dark face showed as Angus smiled. ‘Same.’ His head moved as he scanned the woman he was still lying half on top of. ‘Are you hurt, Fliss?’

‘No. I’m fine. Just…scared.’

‘I know.’ Angus was still staring at her. ‘Why are you dressed like this?’

‘It was Jack’s idea.’

‘Jack? Who the hell is Jack?’

Fliss could feel something remarkably like a smile gathering somewhere deep inside her. Despite this conversation being rapid-fire and quiet enough to be almost inaudible, she could detect something that sounded astonishingly like jealousy in that question.

Did Angus still care?

He clearly cared enough to want to protect her and that was enough for the moment. He was still shielding her body with his own and Fliss couldn’t help her awareness of the familiar feel of his long legs over hers. Of his lower body in close contact with her own. It imparted a sense of security that was so incongruous to the setting it was confusing. And perhaps it was that odd sense of security that allowed something in Fliss to respond so acutely to hearing that soft lilt underlying the deep voice. To remember things that gave her a tingling down her spine that had far more to do with excitement than fear.

‘He’s a patient,’ Fliss murmured. ‘I was at his house when this started. We’re trying to get back to my surgery.’

She could feel the new tension in Angus’s body as his level of alertness suddenly increased.

‘Where is he now?’

‘He went a different way. There’s a little boy who might be hurt.’

The low moan from nearby reminded Fliss of a more urgent mission. Of someone who was definitely hurt.

‘There’s someone here!’ Fliss couldn’t stop her voice getting louder. ‘I was trying to get to her when you attacked me.’

‘I was heading for her myself,’ Angus responded. ‘And then I spotted you.’ He rolled sideways and Fliss sat up. Angus pulled her flat again instantly.

‘Wait,’ he commanded. ‘I’ll go first.’ He raised his hand and made some sort of signal.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Letting Seth know what the plan is. We don’t use our radios unless we have to.’

‘Seth?’

‘My partner. He’s armed and close. He’s going to cover me while I check out that woman.’

Fliss stared around her but could see nothing. Then she stared harder. A pinprick of red light showed behind a gravestone that was only a few metres away.

‘That light…?’

‘Sights on the gun.’

Good grief! Someone was pointing a weapon right at them at almost point-blank range and Fliss had had no idea he was even there. These guys were good at what they did and no mistake. She was quite happy to let Angus be the one to move and see what the situation was with the groaning woman.

The sound of distress grew louder a few seconds later.

‘It’s my leg,’ Fliss heard the woman say hoarsely. ‘I can’t move.’

‘Shh.’ Angus spoke too quietly for Fliss to catch any words but she could sense the reassurance in whatever he was saying. When the woman spoke again, she copied his inaudible volume.

Long seconds of silence followed and then a louder groan followed by an apology from his patient. Angus must be doing something that had increased her pain temporarily, Fliss thought. A rough splint, perhaps, or inserting an IV line.

She saw one of the dark shapes move and a moment later Angus was back beside her.

‘She’s been shot in the leg. It’s fractured her femur and there’s been heavy blood loss. I’ve got a dressing and pressure bandage on it and I’ve given her some pain relief, but she’s in shock. How far from your surgery are we?’

‘Not far.’ Fliss matched his whisper. ‘I was going to climb over the Carsons’ fence there to get to the street. My place is two houses down from there.’

‘I’m going to carry Maria.’

‘Maria?’ Fliss was shocked. ‘What was she doing here?’

‘Hiding, I expect. She’s not too big so I can carry her, but not over a fence.’

‘She’s pregnant,’ Fliss told him. ‘Thirty-six weeks.’

‘I did notice.’ Even the whisper sounded wry.

‘Her babies have come a bit earlier each time. This is number five.’

‘Definitely not over a fence, then.’

There was an undercurrent of amusement in the whisper now. And something else. A response to a challenge. Excitement, even.

‘I’m going to have a word with Seth. We might need some extra cover so we can go down the street.’

The consultation with the still unseen Seth took less than a minute. Then they waited for perhaps another ten minutes until they were given permission to carry out the planned rescue mission. Angus went back to Maria but Fliss was ordered to stay where she was for the moment. It was a long time to sit in silence, knowing that every minute could represent a deterioration in their patient’s condition.

She needs oxygen, Fliss thought. And fluids. Being in shock would be a danger to the baby whose survival depended on the oxygen supply it received from its mother’s blood.

Maria adored her children and after four girls she was convinced that a longed-for boy was due to arrive. Fliss had visited their alternative lifestyle block where they grew most of their own food and home-schooled their children. She had envied the contentment and solidarity of the self-sufficient family. She couldn’t let anything horrible happen to Maria or the baby.

The wave of anger towards the perpetrator of this violence shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to Fliss. It was people like that who shattered the lives of innocent people, including children.

The way hers had been shattered all those years ago. Sitting in the cemetery with the memories of her own losses made Fliss all too aware of what the repercussions of random acts of violence like this could be. The effects could be so far-reaching they could interfere with the rest of your life. They could put what you wanted more than anything out of reach. Could undermine and destroy relationships.

As hers had been.

The force that had plucked her father from her life had not been something a person could be blamed for because no one had ever been caught for the arson attack that had started the house fire. That her firefighter father had been caught when the roof had collapsed unexpectedly had been deemed a disastrous miscalculation. A terrible accident but one that came with the territory of such a career.

Some of her earliest memories had to do with that nebulous force of danger that had hung over her father’s career, reinforced by her mother’s anxiety every time he’d gone on duty. For the first time, however, Fliss could feel hatred for the person who’d committed the mindless act of starting that fire in the first place. The same kind of hatred she was experiencing towards whoever was roaming through Morriston right now with a loaded gun.

And she could find an outlet for such a negative emotion much closer to hand. In the men who chose a career that brought them close to that kind of evil. Who waited for it to happen. Looked forward to it, even, because it provided excitement. When Angus came back to her position, Fliss found herself watching for evidence of that career satisfaction.

‘You guys are enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘Keep your voice down, Fliss.’

‘This must be the biggest callout you’ve ever had.’

‘Shh!’ The hiss was a command. ‘We’re moving. Follow me, and, for God’s sake, shut up.’

Fliss shut up, her anger replaced by fear. Angus gathered Maria into his arms seemingly effortlessly and Fliss walked beside him with Seth on her other side. She presumed they had cover from other members of the squad, although she couldn’t see anyone.

Maria bravely kept as silent as she could, her pale face pressed into Angus’s shoulder, her broken leg hidden by the long, flowered dress she wore. The ungainly knot of humanity crept slowly along the street until Fliss breathed an audible sigh of relief.

‘This is it. My surgery.’

A faded sign designated the add-on to the small cottage as the ‘Morriston Medical Centre’. Fliss had left her keys with the rather cumbersome kit back at Jack’s house but it didn’t matter. The door, panelled with opaque glass, that led into the small waiting room was never locked. Fliss reached for the handle.

‘Wait!’

‘Why?’

‘Has this door been unlocked since you left?’

‘Yes. I never lock it on Wednesdays. I usually hold surgery hours between seven and nine and if I’m called out, people need somewhere to wait.’

Seth and Angus exchanged a glance and Fliss dropped her hand. What if someone was waiting inside who wasn’t a patient? It had never occurred to her that she needed to fret about security in a place like Morriston.

Things were never going to be the same after this.

‘I’ll check it out,’ Seth said quietly. ‘Stay here.’

He was back only moments later. There hadn’t been much to check. A waiting area, a toilet, the consultation room and a small storage space. The connecting interior door that led from the waiting area into the cottage was always locked from the house side. If Fliss wanted to enter her home during working hours, she would walk around the corner to the small verandah that had her front door exactly in the middle.

Angus carried Maria straight into the consultation room and laid her gently on the bed. Seth locked the outside door behind them and then pulled the curtains closed.

‘Don’t turn on any more lights than you absolutely have to,’ he instructed.

Fliss put a desk lamp on the floor, angled the head down and switched it on. The pool of light wasn’t enough but a small penlight torch provided a narrow, bright beam that wouldn’t be obvious from outside.

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