Over an hour had gone by with Richard still sitting on the barn floor, contemplating his next move. He had convinced himself that he was there, waiting for the sun to go down, just to gain a better chance of sneaking up to the house. But deep down, he knew that terror was the real reason he was still curled up in the corner, among all the dust and cobwebs. The sun was still hours away from descending. He was sure that Nicky had probably started to worry by now, maybe even called his friend Neil to check up on him. He pulled out his phone to check the signal again. Just as before there was none. He sighed loudly and slipped it back into his pocket.
Glancing up at the house again through the gap, he knew that it was time to act. He got up from the floor, dusted himself off, and made his way out of the barn. Staying tight to the outside walls, he scurried along toward the house. At the end of the barn he inspected the house; he still couldn’t see any signs of life other than a car parked outside.
It was time to make his move.
He took two long, deep breaths to ready himself and set off. Virtually crawling, he scampered up the grass bank, aiming for the side of the house. His eyes were fixed on the windows and front door for movement. Reaching the house, he stuck tightly to the wall, his breathing erratic, his heart pounding. What the hell are you doing, Gardener? he thought, shaking his head in bewilderment. Why are you creeping up to a farmhouse in the middle of Wales? Have you lost your mind?
Putting the voices in his head to one side, he edged closer to one of the windows. He carefully moved to see inside. Through the white-net curtains he could see that the room was a small sitting room. He scanned the room thoroughly and saw that it was deserted. Nervously moving past it, still glued to the wall, he crept toward another window, positioned next to a door. Peeping in, he saw the kitchen; still he couldn’t see any signs of life. Continuing along toward the back of the house he came across another window and saw a bedroom, with a small TV clearly on at the far corner, a double bed, unmade, and a large, old-fashioned wardrobe with both doors hanging open.
With beads of sweat now dripping profusely down his face, he moved on to the window at the back of the house. Glimpsing quickly at his surroundings, he neared the slightly ajar window, virtually holding his breath, his muscles tense. Just inches away, he unintentionally kicked a small metal bucket, creating a deafening clunking sound. His heart rate increased fiercely as he reached down and grasped the bucket. Just as he did, the sound of a baby crying startled him further. Still crouched down, he listened hard. Is that him? he asked himself. Is that Christina Long’s baby? Straightening, he could feel a large shadow loom over him. Terrified, he quickly turned his head to see what was causing it. His jaw dropped in fright and he gasped. Standing behind him was Peter Young, holding a metal poker. As Richard opened his mouth in an attempt to explain himself, Peter swung the poker, slamming it into the side of Richard’s head.
Chapter 14
Day 14: Monday
The sound of the TV brought Richard out of his unconscious state. Cries of canned laughter from a comedy show echoed around the room. His eyes slipped in and out of focus as he tried to recall what had happened, and what he was doing sitting up against a large stone archway, with his ankles bound together with rope and his wrists tied behind his back. His head pounded angrily like a bad hangover, and he had to close his eyes against the searing pain. He could feel and taste a cloth gag, which had been wrapped around his head and stuffed into his mouth. Visions of Christina enduring the same such treatment filled his mind.