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Trust No One: Chapter 49


As the car headlights thrashed down the bumpy track, it was clear, even in the dark, that the farm had not been maintained in a long time. There were no welcoming Christmas lights or decorations, and no warm glow from the house itself. Instead the windows were boarded up and the lawns overgrown with weeds.

Molly had driven, reasoning that her car was probably better for the terrain. Olivia had protested: she felt bad that not only was Molly accompanying her on what might be a waste-of-time trip, she was also now having to drive. But she had to admit it relieved her stress.

Returning to Black Dog Farm brought up many demons and although she was back in contact with Noah, they still hadn’t seen each other since she had stormed out, which only added to her anxiety. She expected to find him waiting outside the main door for her as he had promised. His car was there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and that cranked up her irritation. She fired off a quick message letting him know they had arrived and demanding to know where he was.

He didn’t realise Molly was with her. As far as he was aware, she had driven out here in the dark all alone. Part of her was tempted to tell Molly to turn the car around and head back to Norwich. Screw Noah Keen and whatever game he was playing.

Molly had already turned off the engine, though left her headlights on. She exited the car, staring up at the abandoned farmhouse. ‘This place is bloody huge. I can’t believe it’s just been left like this.’

‘I think they had trouble selling it.’ Reluctantly Olivia got out and went to join her.

‘Where did the fire happen? Was it in here?’

‘No, the cottage was over there somewhere.’ Olivia pointed towards the dark woods that bordered the property. It was hard to believe that years ago, she had gone wandering into them with Margaret and Rachel. How much braver they had been back then. But then again, remembering the outcome, they had been foolish too.

Aside from the two of them, the place was completely silent.

‘Where the bloody hell is Noah? He said he would be here.’

Molly’s face was immersed in shadows. ‘Let’s wander round the building and see if we can find him. Maybe he’s inside.’

Olivia wasn’t sure she liked the idea of that, but they had just driven all the way out here and, other than sitting in the car and hoping he appeared, they didn’t have a better plan. ‘Okay,’ she agreed reluctantly.

‘I need to turn off the headlights. I don’t want a flat battery. Have you got the torches?’

‘They’re in the glovebox.’

Olivia quickly fetched them, waited for Molly as she killed the lights and grabbed her jacket from the back seat before locking the car. As Molly zipped up the jacket and slipped on warm gloves, Olivia cursed, realising she had forgotten hers.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be here long. Turning on her torch, she stuck her free hand into her coat pocket, hurrying after Molly as she headed towards the side of the building.

Without the full beam from the car, the place was even more creepy and her unease grew. Olivia realised it was probably because of the memories it evoked and that her shivering was more from the cold than being back here. She was thirty-one. Time to overcome her demons.

Molly was a few yards ahead of her and Olivia stepped over the uneven ground, trying to keep up, as her friend disappeared round the back.

‘There are some missing boards here, Livvy. We can get inside.’

‘Maybe we should just wait out here.’

She caught Molly up, peered through the dark window, following the beam of Molly’s flashlight as it lit up a few empty chairs and tables. She cast her mind back, trying to remember what room this would have been. Was it the craft room where she had first got to know Margaret?

Molly was already clambering through the window, as Olivia pulled out her phone again. Noah hadn’t replied to her message. In fact, she hadn’t heard a word from him since agreeing to meet him.

What the bloody hell is he playing at? Not liking this at all, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and followed Molly into the building.


Fern’s head shot up at the footsteps crunching against glass. Was the psycho coming back?

She held her breath, tried to still her racing heart, as she listened. Voices. Two of them. Female, she thought.

God, please let them find me.

Time was running out. She understood that when she had been moved to the swimming pool. Realised that unless she could escape, it was almost over for her.

When her legs were uncuffed had been her one opportunity to get away, but they had numbed from the pain of being forced back into such an uncomfortable position, and she had wept at the sharp burst of agonising pain, barely able to walk as she had been half dragged out of the room and down the corridor. That was when she had realised where she was, that she had been taken back to Black Dog Farm. Any hope she had been clinging to had dissipated as she had been kicked down into the old swimming pool, now empty of water. She had been unable to cushion her fall with her wrists still cuffed behind her back and her face and her shoulder had taken the brunt. From the way her nose throbbed, she was pretty certain she had broken it. Possibly dislocated her shoulder too.

She had cried as she spotted the crudely made crucifixion cross lying flat on the bed of the pool, but she had been in too much pain to fight as her wrists were uncuffed and her arms stretched out, tied to each side. Then her ankles were bound together again and chained to the bottom of the cross. And she had become hysterical as she watched the canisters being dragged to the side of the pool, smelling the strong fumes of petrol.

It was going to happen. She was going to burn alive.

She tried to plead through the gag, begging for it to stop.

And then it had. The psycho had left her. That had been hours ago and the pool had long been plunged into darkness. As she struggled to free herself, knew better than to believe it was over, she heard the footsteps, could make out faint voices. If she was somehow able to make enough noise to alert them that she was here, maybe, just maybe, her nightmare might be over.


‘This is the dining hall where we ate.’

The chairs and tables were still there, though covered in a film of dust, and the serving counter was still intact. The beam of her torch picked up the trays that were stacked up at the beginning of the line. It was weird seeing everything as she remembered, but in such a state of decay. Olivia recalled the room as being huge. It was a still a decent size, but not quite as big as she remembered it. The door behind the counter that led to the kitchen hung off its hinges and she wondered what kind of state the kitchen was in now.

The longer she spent inside the old farmhouse, the less scary it felt, but she was still a little on edge, not liking being in so much darkness. It wasn’t the farmhouse that bothered her. More what she couldn’t see.

Anyone could be in here.

Molly seemed to be loving it though, already wandering out of the dining hall towards the main staircase. ‘Does this lead to the dormitories?’

‘Yes. Our rooms were up there.’

‘I’m going up to look.’

‘Wait for me.’

As Olivia crossed the dining hall, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Noah!

 

Where are you?

 

Is he serious? ‘Hold on, Molly. Noah just messaged.’ Olivia hit call, frustrated when her phone lost its connection. She typed a reply:

 

I’m right here. Where the hell are you?

 

She waved the phone around until she had enough bars, hitting send, before rushing out of the room, annoyed to find Molly had already gone upstairs without her.

‘Molly? I said to wait for me.’

There was no answer, just silence and Olivia picked her way carefully up the stairs, aware some of the floorboards were loose and worried about stumbling in the darkness.

She found herself on the landing, thrusting the torch in both directions, familiarising herself with the layout, remembering that both corridors were long and twisting, not liking that she was suddenly alone.

‘Molly?’ she hissed, her voice too loud in the silence. ‘Where the hell are you?’

More silence followed and Olivia was aware of her heart beating too fast. She didn’t like this one bit. Where was Noah and where the hell was Molly?

A scream pierced through the darkness, making her jump. She fumbled with the torch, almost dropped it. It was Molly, she was sure of it. ‘Molly? What’s wrong, where are you?’

She charged in the direction of the scream, torch beam flashing ahead, trying not to think about what had just happened. Maybe Molly had stumbled or seen a rat, or maybe been startled by Noah. Yes, that would be the best-case scenario. Then they could all get the fuck out of there.

‘Molly?’

She shone her torch in the dorms as she passed, the beam picking up the old bunk beds they had slept in. When she reached the end of the corridor, Molly still nowhere to be found, Olivia pulled her phone out. She had a signal, but it was weak. Noah still hadn’t replied she noted.

She called Molly’s number, praying that she would answer.

In the distance she recognised Molly’s ringtone. Holding her breath as she slowly walked towards the room where it was coming from.

She paused outside, the sound louder now. ‘Molly?’

Again, no answer.

Olivia stepped into the room, moving closer to the sound.

Molly’s mobile phone was on the floor, Olivia’s name on the screen as it rang.

Fuck!

What the hell was going on? She didn’t like this one bit.

‘Molly?’ She snatched up the phone, ended the call. Tried Noah again.

Straight to voicemail.

If it wasn’t for everything going on, she would think this was some sick prank. Molly and Noah wouldn’t do this to her, though. And certainly not together. They hated each other.

Okay, think, Liv. She rationalised with herself, deciding to get the hell out of the farmhouse and call for help. As she headed back down the corridor towards the stairs, her phone beeped.

This time it was a text from an unknown number.

 

Look behind you.

 

Olivia’s heart was in her mouth as she slowly turned, shone the torch towards the darkness. There was nothing there.

She heard the creak of a floorboard, footsteps, and turned back just as something heavy whacked into the side of her head, screaming as she dropped the torch, losing her footing and tumbling down the staircase.

She tried to cushion herself against the fall, landing on her side as she reached the bottom. As she attempted to sit up, wincing in pain, footsteps descended the stairs. In the pitch black she couldn’t see who it was, squinting her eyes at the harsh beam that was suddenly flashed in her face.

‘Please don’t–’

She caught the glint of something silver in the split second before it smacked into the side of her head, then there was only blackness.


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