Ben could see the lights of the coach in the distance. He pointed in the opposite direction. ‘That’s where we need to go, Abigail.’ Ben began running through the fields, Abigail was close behind. The ground was soft under their feet, and it made it hard to move.
They got to the verge, leading onto the road. Ben waited, offering his hand and helping Abigail down. He glanced around, turning his body full circle and then started to jog away from the coach.
They ran side by side, both panting heavily, searching in the distance for lights. The area was a mass of darkness, only the stones under their feet to tell them they were on the path and the minuscule light from the torch shining on the ground. He kept it low, not wanting their visit announced. They were silent, preserving their energy. The air was chilly as it smacked against their faces, and the breeze swept hard from the surrounding fields and open space.
Ben was unsure whether to cross into a field. It seemed to go on for miles either side.
They ran into the darkness, Abigail dropping slightly behind. Ben stopped, clasping his hands on his waist, struggling to fill his lungs. ‘Are you okay?’
She joined him a few seconds later. ‘Just about. Christ, I didn’t realise how unfit I am.’
‘I think we need to keep moving along the path. The house must be here somewhere,’ Ben said.
They waited a minute, then continued together, side by side, urging each other to keep going. To push. A mile along the path, they saw a light in the distance: the upstairs front bedroom, a dim glow radiating onto the field. They stopped. Ben walked to the side of the field, placing his hands on the fence. It was low, with barbed wire running along the top. He pulled it apart, allowing Abigail into the field, then he squeezed his body through, being careful not to rip his skin.
‘Okay,’ said Ben, ‘I have a feeling Lydia and Jack are close. We need to find them quickly and get them out. I have a plan. But it’s dangerous.’
‘I’m all ears.’
‘I’ll explain when we get there, okay?’
They kept walking, trampling in the mud underneath. Their feet were wet, cold and sticking further into the ground which slowed them up.
As they approached the cottage, they saw two lights, placed around twenty yards apart from each other.
Ben pointed. ‘That’s where he’s dug the holes.’
‘What are you thinking, Ben?’
He paused for a second, trying to work out the plan in his head. It could go so wrong, but they had little choice. They kept moving, getting closer to the lights and watching the glow at the top window. As they neared, Ben saw more cottages to the right. The lights were off, and there was no sign of activity. It had to be the right place.
He explained what he wanted Abigail to do. To wait by the front door, keep hidden. The light from the bedroom window above them would allow Ben to see her. She’d wait, then knock the door on his signal. ‘Can you do that?’
‘I don’t know, Ben. It’s so fucking dangerous.’
‘Yes, it is. If you can’t do it, just say. I’ll have to think of something else.’
Abigail took a deep breath, pursing her lips together and blew hard. ‘Let’s do it.’
They split. Ben moved towards the lights in the field; Abigail made her way to the cottage.
He watched as she crouched on the drive, waiting with anticipation, keeping hidden from view, ready for his signal.
He waited a few seconds to make sure she was coping with the task, then moved to where Lydia and Jack were held. He stopped around fifty yards from the pits. Ben could see the small cameras on the same stands as the neon lights. He braced himself, mustering all the strength he had left. He moved closer, now able to hear the low whimpering sounds as they gulped air and spat water from their mouths. Lydia was crying; Jack had started calling for help.
He glanced towards Abigail and lifted his arm, beckoning her to get ready. Abigail stayed crouched behind a bush in the front garden. Ben hoped they had the right place. He needed to be fast. He glanced quickly towards the pits where Lydia and Jack were, then waved frantically.
Abigail stood. Then keeping as low as possible, she went to the front door.
Ben saw her turn towards him. He lifted his arm as if to say, You got this.
She found the door knocker, then hammered it as hard as she could. A figure came to the window.
Right. Compose yourself. You can do this. I have to jump into the holes and untie Lydia and Jack. The caller is away from the monitor. It’s time.
Ben approached the holes and looked inside. He was standing directly in front of the cameras.
‘Who’s there?’ Jack asked. His head was turned to the side. Ben saw the dirt on his cheek; he was struggling to hold his head out of the water.
‘My name is Ben. I’m going to untie you. We haven’t got long.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ Jack responded.
Lydia’s head was down, and she wasn’t moving now.
‘Lydia, can you hear me?’
She didn’t respond.
Ben sat on the side of the pit, then lowered his legs into the hole. He crouched, reaching his arms into the cold water, moving them around. ‘Lydia, it’s Ben. Can you hear me?’
Still no response. Ben turned her body on its side. There was no movement from Lydia. Her face was still and her lips had gone a dark purple colour. He lifted her body from the waist and pulled her upwards. She was light, and Ben managed to manoeuvre her easily. He laid her on the bank, untying the cord around her hands and ankles, cutting it with a key from his pocket.
Then he removed the wet sleeping bag. Ben placed his hand on Lydia’s shoulders and moved her. ‘Lydia, come on. You’re not going to die out here. Can you hear me?’ Pressing his fingers into her neck he felt a weak pulse. He tipped her head back and checked her airways.
Suddenly, she coughed, her eyes opened wide, she struggled to focus, confused. She turned to the side and vomited.
‘Thank God. Wait here. I have to get to Jack. Don’t move.’
Ben jumped into the other shallow grave. Jack was much heavier, and he struggled to turn him onto his side. There was minimal room. He found the plastic cords holding his hands and feet, cutting them with his keys. Then, he reached under the water and felt for the zip of the sleeping bag, quickly ripping it open.
Ben was thankful that Jack was able to crawl out of the hole without being lifted.
Jack sat beside Lydia, and they held each other tight. Lydia burst into tears, holding her husband’s face, repeating over and over again how much she loved him.
Ben knew that whatever they’d done it wasn’t the caller’s responsibility to hand out retribution. He couldn’t call the shots. After a few moments, Ben interrupted. ‘Hey, sorry to break up the party but I need you both to go back to the coach. Those people need us.’
Lydia glanced at her husband. He could see she had different ideas.
Jack stood, brushing himself down, suddenly wincing. ‘That bastard stabbed me,’ he said. He was covered in mud and looked like he’d been attacked by a plasterer’s trowel. He wiped the dirt from his clothes. ‘I can’t thank you enough. You’ve saved our lives.’
‘You can thank me by going back to the coach. The passengers are terrified. My wife and daughter are there. If you run now, he’s going to kill us. He has guns, and he isn’t afraid to use them. Have you seen anyone else?’