Page 77 of The Cut
She steadies her nerves. ‘You’re drunk, Ben.’ She smiles kindly at him. ‘Come on, let’s find the others.’
‘That night at my house, when we were looking after my dad …’ He’s slurring his words. ‘You said we made a good team.’
‘We did … we do.’ Annie keeps her arms folded tightly across her chest. She can feel the pull of his hand on her shoulder. ‘I like you, Ben, but I’ve told you … I’m not ready.’
‘It’s because you like Patel, isn’t it?’
Annie turns to him, wide-eyed. ‘Dave? No, where did you get that fro—’
‘I thought we had something. I drove through the water deliberately because I wanted you all to myself.’ Ben pulls her into his chest; his hand travels from her shoulder to the back of her head.
Annie leans in to placate him, but Ben begins to press her face down towards his crotch. Everything begins to move in slow motion. The heat and humidity in the car, the pain in her lacerated foot and Ben’s rank breath meld into an overwhelming feeling of nausea. Now her face is buried in his lap, she can feel his erection through the layers of his costume. Ben fumbles for the fly of his jeans, under layer after layer of heavy velvet.
‘Come on … help me out here.’ He’s too drunk to find the zip.
Annie’s hand shoots up to push him away and she fumbles for the door handle, but Ben’s arm reaches across her and slams it closed.
‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ben.’
From high in the Crow’s Nest at the top of the chimney, Mark has been filming the fireworks on Dave’s camera. Roman candles299splutter fountains of fire across the water in the meadow. Chris darts out into the open from the shelter of the willow. He lights another fuse, but the crack of thunder followed by a blinding flash of sheet lightning tears open the sky, sending Chris scuttling back out of sight. Mark presses his eye back to the viewfinder and steadies the camera.
Across the other side of the river, in the driver’s seat of the car, Ben remains motionless. His hands clutch his thighs and he breathes in deeply, trying to steady himself. Annie daren’t move, she focuses intently on the opposite bank. She can hear her friends in the distance, squealing and whooping as they flee from the mill in the downpour. In one swift movement, she lurches for the door handle again. Ben flinches, grabbing a fistful of hair and banging her head into the glass.
‘Aggh.’ Annie snaps. ‘GET OFF ME!’
She pushes him off, slamming her fist into the horn on the steering wheel, then, bringing her knees to her chest, she leans back against the door and kicks out at Ben, again and again, into his shoulder and ribs. Ben grabs her ankle and wrenches her leg, twisting her sideways. He clambers over the seat towards her. The passenger door swings open as Annie’s weight throws her backwards. He’s on top of her now, reaching for her underwear, fingers finding the waistband and pulling hard to tear them off.
‘NO … NO!’ Annie jerks away violently, but Ben’s fingers keep their grip on her neck.
‘Sssh.’
‘Please.’ Annie’s voice is muffled as she gasps for air, her face smothered under the black velvet of his cloak. ‘Please don’t … please … don’t do this.’
She slams her feet against the steering wheel and forces him off, tumbling backwards out of the passenger door into the mud. The300torrential rain drenches her as she stumbles and turns, freeing herself from the car. On her knees now, her injured foot buckles underneath her as she tries to get up, slipping in the mud.
The shriek of the car alarm is masked by another distant explosion of fireworks from the tower and a gaggle of Year 11s burst from the doors of the mill, screaming as they hurl themselves out into the thunderstorm. Mark looks into the viewfinder again and zooms in. He can see something happening in the car park but he’s too far away to get a clear shot.
The long white Princess Leia costume Annie is wearing drags her down into the muddy water as she staggers on to her hands and knees. The terrifying figure clad in black with the grey Pinhead mask crawls out of the car like a spider, tumbling on to the ground. Slowly, he raises himself out of the mire, the wet robes dragging behind him as he stands to his full height. He watches her crawling away, and slowly stalks behind her. As he gains ground, he lifts a foot out of the mud and stamps on her gown. Towering above her, watching her lash out, slipping and scrambling to get away.
‘GET OFF ME!’ The fabric tears and she launches herself forward. Sprinting towards the little stone footbridge that crosses the brook, heading towards the mill.
A gust of wind catches Ben’s costume like a sail as he spreads his arms and propels himself towards the concrete ledge of the weir. He crosses the water, hitting the riverbank ahead of her, and rounds the corner, cutting Annie off at the footbridge as she trips and stumbles into his arms.
Mark looks up from the viewfinder again as Annie struggles to release herself from his grip. Mark flinches as he looks on. This is awful; he needs to get down to the bottom of the tower and help her.301
The growl of an engine sounding in the woods startles him. Mark turns the lens towards the glare of a headlamp cast across the field, illuminating the whole scene. A dirt bike crashes out of the undergrowth, chicaning through the trees and breaking out into the open meadow. From the top of the tower, Mark follows the bike hurtling towards the mill race. Annie clambers up on to the wall of the mill race, but the roar of the motorbike engine catches her. She turns back in shock, staring into the glare of the headlamp, then suddenly falls, dropping behind the wall and disappearing out of sight.302
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JULY 2024
The grass in the meadow was overgrown and the old willow on the bank of the brook was bent double with age, its own majestic size weighing it down into the water. Ben stood in the centre of the clearing, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket.
Keep going, you know where this road ends …
