***
The road into the mountain was torn up in places. Large chunks had been blasted apart by mortar and rockets and God only knows what else those soldiers used to destroy each other. It was a challenge to try and navigate through it as dusk fell, leaving them with only a thin strip of moonlight seeping through the tree line. But they had to push on as fast as their aching legs would permit. Isobel held her sister's hand, guiding her around the rubble and icy patches as best she could. Rachel's lips were blue and her eyes glassy, both of which were enough to distract Isobel from the frozen blood on her sister's clothes.
"There's a man in S'aven who's going to help us," she told Rachel, trying to keep her voice steady. "Dad told me we have to go there. We'll get to S'aven and we'll be safe."
S'aven was just outside the capital in the south of England, they were more than 250 miles north. They were nearer to Scotland than London. Isobel had no idea how long it would take, but they would make it, she had promised her father she would take care of Rachel.
Their steps started to slow, but persisted down the road. Then Rachel stopped, she pulled on Isobel's hand as headlights struck both girls. Don't speak to strangers, she'd heard it so many times and her heart lurched, but Rachel stayed firm. Another night in the cold and they would both be dead, whoever, whatever was in that car was their only chance.
The vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Isobel stared into the headlights. Was this what her father saw in his final moments; a glowing light promising sanctuary without substance? A car door opened and a large figure peered out of the vehicle, looking as shaken as Isobel felt.
"You girls okay?" The driver called from a distance as though he was as scared of them as they should have been of him.
Rachel looked to her sister and gave her an encouraging nod.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, sir," Isobel said. "Our dad..." Her voice started to croak. She gestured to the trees, hoping he would understand.
"Do you live here?" The man said, coming closer to them.
Isobel nodded.
He was a large man approaching sixty. His white beard hid most of his face and his eyes were hard. He wore a thick jacket, it was well worn and patched up in places. Isobel had a feeling she knew him. Their community was spread out over acres and acres, but with such a limited population their paths crossed often. She caught the man giving her a similar look, as though he were trying to place the two girls from a Christmas market, or bonfire night.
"There are soldiers in the forest," Isobel said.
The man scowled at the trees. "Aye. You'd best come with me. I'll get you girls home." He sounded reluctant until Isobel reached for his hand, allowing her fingers to brush the exposed skin of his wrist.
"Please sir. We need to go to S'aven."
He paused, transfixed by Isobel's words. "That's a long way away."
Rachel grabbed his other hand. "Please take us to S'aven," she pleaded.
Whatever thoughts he had, wherever he was going no longer mattered. The girls controlled him. Isobel guided him to the car, she took the passenger seat, while Rachel crawled in the back and snuggled herself into the extra coat he kept there.
"I'm hungry," Rachel said.
"There's some protein cans on the floor there," the man said and started the engine. "You girls get settled in, I'll get you to S'aven don't you worry."
His name was Bill. He was never married, he never had any children, but he used to have a dog and he loved that dog so much. He told the girls about it as he drove and for a little while all Isobel could think about was Bill and his dog, walking through the tranquil forest, hunting rabbits and never worrying about anything more than the car battery going flat. It was a good life and he had been happy. Isobel couldn't imagine ever being happy again.
Bill drove the back roads to S'aven as though he instinctively knew to keep the girls hidden from the motorway patrols. Isobel watched with wonder as the familiar trees and hills fell away and the landscape flattened into a barren nothingness. The barest signs of community clustered in groups on the edges of large roads. The people she saw were dishevelled loners, walking the roads like they were the last of the living. Winter had claimed Britain and civilisation was in hibernation.
Then they began approaching S'aven and the world seemed to exhale into life. The roads grew busier, the streets began to move with people. An empty horizon suddenly exploded in concrete and machinery. Isobel leaned forward staring at an urban landscape. She felt like an alien, landing in civilisation for the first time.
A sign reached out from the tarmac: Welcome to Safe Haven. Isobel felt herself sigh in relief. They had made it. She noticed the atmosphere in the car shift. Bill was starting to get anxious and confused. His mission was over and without the girls' instructions he was starting to regain his senses. Isobel reached out and put her hand on his as it clasped the steering wheel tightly.
"You can let us out here," she said.
He frowned as though the idea was absurd. "Leave you here? By yourselves?"
"You can let us out and then go somewhere safe," Isobel told him.
He pulled up the car in a daze. "You girls sure you're going to be okay out here on your own?"
Rachel leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Bill," she said. "I hope you get another dog."
Bill drove off as soon as they got out of the car and neither girl stopped to wave him off. The bustle of the streets immediately overwhelmed them. Rachel's hand found Isobel's and the pair froze.
"Where are we going?" Rachel whispered.
Isobel straightened her neck. "I told you before. We're going to find that man Dad told us about. Darcy. That's where we're going. And everything is going to be okay."
She didn't know it at the time but the church was hidden from the outside world and yet obvious to a Reacher. She could feel a calling as soon as they were in the city and without talking both girls moved closer towards the secret church currently hidden in a small terraced house a few streets from the market. They reached it before their first night in S'aven, before the rain and frost had any chance to dampen their spirits.
Isobel knocked on the painted green door with the handmade holly wreath adorning it, feeling certain that they were in the right place. Darcy opened the door. He was wearing his collar in defiance of the persecution of religion in the city. A thinning crop of black curls drew Isobel's eye. Darcy was a stocky man who managed to look ancient and youthful at the same time. His dark eyes stared down at the girls in unrestrained kindness.
"Come in, come in," he said, soothing them with his rich Caribbean accent.
There wasn't a lot to his church. The front room was set out to receive devotees, with chairs and an altar. The advent took pride of place in the centre of the table, two candles lit at Christ's feet. Darcy led them past that room and through to the kitchen. He gestured that the girls sit at the table and he poured them both a glass each of mulled spices from the pan cooking on the gas stove. Isobel sipped at hers, ignoring the funny taste while Rachel pushed hers aside and crinkled her nose.
"Now let me see if I can get this right." He wagged a finger at Isobel, "You must be Isobel and this must be Rachel."
"How do you know our names?" Isobel asked.
"Your dad told me all about you." Darcy didn't ask about their father - he didn't have to, the stains on Rachel's dress said enough.
"Now are you girls hungry?"
They both nodded.
"Well then I better start cooking. Isobel, if you take your sister upstairs there's some hot water in the bath and some clothes in the room next door. You get yourselves cleaned up, help yourselves to anything you like and we'll have ourselves a nice dinner." Darcy turned to his kitchen. If he thought there was anything strange in having two refugees showing up at his door he didn't show it.
"How did you know we were coming?" Rachel asked.
Darcy turned back and leaned over to Rachel. "The man upstairs told me." He gave her a
wink and went back to cooking.
Rachel tugged on Isobel's hand. "Who's upstairs?" She whispered.