Blank Coupon Book: DIY Gift Certificate Vouchers - Fill in Your Own 20 Blank Coupons
Author: Ian Woodhead
Date: 2021-05-06 07:00:00+00:00
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Publisher: Independently published

Dark Visions

By Ian Woodhead

Copyright 2014 by Ian Woodhead

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof
may not be reproduced in any form
without permission from Ian Woodhead

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons
or situations are coincidental.

Shades of Green

Third Sight

Duplicity

Spores

Rags and Bones

Parasite

Shades of Green

The monster had returned to Holburn.

This time, Alan Tyler knew there would be no respite, no second chances and no salvation. The town’s occupants had maybe twenty fours left to enjoy their safe, predictable lives.

He tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind his ear, then bit his lip, before he turned toward the bedroom window.

The dawn sun cast a soft, radiant light across the sleeping townscape. Its illuminating fingers exposed his brother’s favourite coffee shop, and Holburn’s only pet shop where his mother once bought Alan a pet hamster when he was seven. As the fat disk rose higher, he saw the postman slouch past their local supermarket. Alan gazed at his watch and forced out a slight smile; the postman might have a face like a slapped arse and an attitude to match, but nobody could fault the miserable bastard’s timekeeping.

He heard his brother moan in his sleep. Reluctantly, Alan drew the curtains. He stared at the thick, plain blue material for a moment before he strode over to Damien’s bed.

The town would carry on waking from its slumber whether he watched it or not. Even so, it would have been a comfort to see his six-year long tradition through to the end.

His family thought he spent all his waking hours plugged into his games console. Alan spent all of their waking hours doing just that, but when they were asleep he watched the town life unfold through three house windows. This one, though, was his favourite.

He hadn’t left the safety of his house for six years now, even with the onset of Armageddon that situation wouldn’t change. Alan sighed, and then pushed away a damp lock of Damien’s dark brown hair before gently placing his gloved hand upon Damien’s forehead. He wanted, no, he needed him to spend some time in Alan’s shoes. Damien’s empathy towards his older brother’s condition left a lot to be desired, not that Alan blamed the lad. He did have a life of his own to lead.

Alan closed his eyes and searched through Damien’s memories, looking for one particular scenario that he could use to convey his message. He smiled to himself when he found just what he was looking for.

“Playtime is over, little brother,” whispered Alan.

Damien was a tough little nut, he may have been only a shade over five foot six but what he lacked in height, Damien made up in breadth. Alan smiled, thinking back, before the incident, when Alan had been normal. He used to taunt Damien, telling him he’d been adopted. He’d probably survive the oncoming apocalypse more or less unscathed but if his brother failed to understand just how limited Alan’s assistance would be then the boy would surely perish.

Alan dug into his pocket and brought out a flattened disk of metal; he placed it gingerly on Damien’s quilt then used his teeth to pull off the glove. He’d probably be able to do this without assistance from that hateful artefact but Alan had to make sure he reached him. Alan grabbed the disc and squeezed it tight, and as its unearthly power surged through his soul, he pushed his other hand down and reached into Damien’s sleeping mind.

Chapter One

When Damien Tyler unclenched his gloved fist, he had to fight back the torrent of tears that threatened to overpower his already battered psyche. Apart from a few drops of sweat, his hand was empty. There’d be no point rechecking the pockets; one tour around the lining was enough. His mother had cleaned them out again.

All those random objects, each one collected to prove to other people that he was as normal as they were, gone forever. In the coming weeks he’d mourn. In particular, his half chewed caramel toffee. The look of disgust from his school friends’ faces had been far more therapeutic then any of his brain doctor sessions.

He’d have to get to grips with this disaster; otherwise he’d lock up and engage in a session of constant screaming. The objects he had expected to pull out were his two never used tissues. They would have been perfect for helping him sort this mess.

Damien kept his eyes glued to the mottled bark of the oak tree in front of him and took in a deep breath. He held the breath, then let the air out in four slow stages, just like his brother had shown him. He felt a little of the panic draining away. He performed this action twice before feeling composed enough to take another look at his previous immaculate hiking boots.

Despite wishing otherwise, the cause of the catastrophe was still there, clinging to the bottom of his boot like a squashed lump of vile, brown organic Velcro. He wanted to murder the person who had let their dog do this, choke the life out of them and then wipe his boots all over their clean clothes. If possible, he’d steal their shoes too. He’d already considered taking them off, and would have done so if he hadn’t deep in Holburn woods, three miles from home.

He placed the boot over an exposed tree root and scraped the thick of it off. He was in admiration of the amount of self-control he was displaying today. As Damien carried on with the cleaning program by rubbing the boot in a clump of long grass beside the tree, he wondered if his calm demeanour was down to his breathing exercises, but then he concluded that it was probably due to today’s company.

If it had just been him and his brother, Alan, he was sure that by this time he would be catatonic, shivering and shaking. He’d be wrapped in Alan’s coat whilst his brother gave him a piggyback ride home after either burning or burying the boots.

Today, the brothers were joined by Tony and Jennifer Patterson. Their family had moved in over the road a couple of weeks ago and Alan had been desperate to show them the local haunting grounds when he saw just how hot Tony’s sister was.

Alan had fallen in love, or lust. Damien wasn’t sure which one it was yet. He guessed that it was lust by the way that he kept dropping her name into every conversation and by describing in vivid detail just what he wanted to do to her fabulous body. Damien knew that his brother would end up with her; it was almost a foregone conclusion.

Damien wished him the best of luck, he was just glad that he now had someone else who he could hang out with who wasn’t aware of his previous history. For the past six years, the local boys hadn’t let up over their remorseless teasing over his condition. It had gotten to the point where he rarely left the house.

Alan had put a lot of effort into persuading Damien to come down to the woods today. Damien wasn’t an idiot. The main reason was to keep Tony occupied so Alan could get her alone. If last night’s stories were anything to go by, he was still no closer to getting her mobile number.

Tony wasn’t his friend, he didn’t have a clue how the lad would react in Damien’s presence. The uncertainty lodged fast when Alan asked and begged him to accompany the group. While his brother and Jennifer skipped off together, he’d be stuck with the big lad. No doubt, Tony would want to climb trees and build dams, activities that were now alien to Damien. How long would it take before the first barbed comment erupted from Tony’s mouth? The first insult would definitely lead to a continuous stream of horrible put downs, they always did. Damien would not be able to cope with that level of aggression.

When Alan had gone downstairs after failing to persuade him, even after promising him two new games, he clicked his bedroom door shut and wandered over to his book-case, determined to forget about Alan’s pleading as soon as possible. He ran his finger along the titles of his extensive collection of video games, looking for one that would keep him amused for a few hours.

When he heard the outer door open, he looked out of the window. Tony and his sister stood there. With her grey suede ankle boots and tight black jeans, she looked adorable but it wasn’t what Damien would class as rugged outdoor wear.

From out of the blue, his little used teenage hormones cooked up a scenario that didn’t seem all that fantastical.

Maybe Tony and Alan would want to climb trees and build dams. He’d be able to keep Jennifer company; they might end up holding hands, even kissing. Damien tried not to look down her top.

His mother followed Alan out. Jennifer asked where Damien was. That made him smile, she remembered his name, and then his mother ruined it all by explaining that Damien wasn’t good with dirt. Damien grabbed his hiking boots before opening his bedroom door and rushed down the stairs.

He was so engrossed in the removal of excrement from his footwear, he failed to notice the ragged breathing and looming shadow until it was too late.

When he felt the sharp prod on his shoulder, Damien jumped and spun around. He tripped over his own feet and fell backwards into a pile of damp leaves, his hand missing a long streak of dog shit by millimetres.

“Have you gone deaf, guy?” asked Tony. “I’ve been calling your name for ages.”

Damien lifted one leg to show the remains of the stuff on his boot.

“That’s just wrong.” Tony shook his head. “Look man, your brother’s wondered off with our Jen. He said something about showing her the den. Where’s he taken her?”

He grabbed Damien’s arm and hauled him up out of the leaves. Damien’s mind was close to locking up, he now had decaying plant matter contaminating his clothing, and those leaves could be infested with maggots or beetles or even spiders. He threw that thought out straight away, if he got started on spider thinking than he’d be no use to anyone.

“Is there anything on my back?” he said.

Tony brushed the leaves off the back of his jacket. “Do you know where this den is?”

He nodded. There was no way that Tony would have given his back a thorough brushing down but he didn’t want to upset him by checking. The tight weave of his blue denim jacket should prevent most many-legged monstrosities from burrowing through the fabric.

Talk about stuck between a rock and a hard place. He really wanted to calm Tony down, explain to him that his darling sister would be safe with Alan. The lad’s face was caught between hope and anxiety, and he looked to Damien for answers.

What an odd sensation, to have someone rely on him instead of the other way round, it made him feel useful. Bollocks to Alan, he was supposed try and keep Tony occupied for at least half an hour. Well his brother’s thirty minutes had just been shortened.

He grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”

Damien felt proud of how he was acting in this situation, despite knowing Alan would be a little pissed off for not keeping the worried brother at bay, his brother would forgive him when he told him he’d fallen in dirt and was only a little bit bothered. Alan would be dead proud.

Damien led him towards where he thought his brother would have taken Jennifer. It had nothing to do with playing in a den.

Holburn woods had just one stain to its character. Six years ago, three young boys had come to play in here. One had been found screaming hysterically and the other two were missing. They had never been found.

Alan guessed that the Patterson’s wouldn’t have heard about the local legend just yet so he’d suggested using the word as a code to tell Damien where he had really gone.

“How far is it now?” Tony asked.

The far side of the woods backed onto a huge apple orchard. It was fenced off; even in the tourist-rich, low-crime haven of Holburn the farmers weren’t idiots. They knew how much damage a horde of local kids could do to their potential cider crop. Alan wasn’t an idiot either, he knew of more than one way through the fence and he also knew that it was the best place in Holburn to bring a girl to impress.

At this time of year, the branches were covered in tiny white flowers, drifting down and carpeting the floor. Perfume filled the air when crushed under foot. Alan informed him that the girls loved all that romantic nonsense. Considering the smouldering looks she was giving him before they entered the woods, Alan was expecting more than just a mobile phone number from her.

Damien froze, his eyes fixed on what was next to his foot. Tony, who wasn’t looking where he was going, stopped short of walking into him.

“What’s up?”

Damien found himself unable to speak, he just pointed down. If he hadn’t been checking the ground before putting his feet down, he’d have walked straight past it. Tony leaned over and followed Damien’s finger.

“Holy fuck! It’s someone’s ear!”

Damien crouched down for a closer look; Tony muttered a curse while going through his trouser pockets. Had Tony’s mum cleared out his pockets too? Tony then grinned and pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a photo of it.” he replied. “This is so cool.”

Damien had no idea how anybody could find a piece of disembodied anatomy to be cool. A group of small black ants clustered around the torn flesh, proving to Damien that this was genuine.

He was about to ask Tony what to do with it when he heard the phone fall to the floor. Damien spun around, but Tony was nowhere to be seen. The phone had landed into a pile of dead twigs, the handset still open. He picked it out of the twigs before standing up. He assumed that he was hiding from him.

Tony’s disappearance thrust to the back of his mind when he saw the devastated landscape in front of him. Bracken, heather and bushes were flattened down creating a six-foot wide path up the embankment. That wasn’t like that a minute ago. The floor along the path was thick was ants. They appeared to be floating on a river of crimson sludge.

Tony stood at the top, the sludge coming up to his knees. Hundreds of black ants had rampaged up his legs onto his jumper and travelled towards his face, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Damien minded; he minded a lot. He had no idea what was going on nor did he wish to. All he could focus on was all those tiny little animals crawling into his ears and mouth. A barely human howl burst from Tony’s mouth.

The phone fell from Damien’s hand and he stepped back, almost losing his balance when he stood on the ear.

Tony waded through the red muck towards Damien. The black shape started to fill out then began to change shape, becoming more dog-like.

Damien turned around and raced towards the apple orchard, sprinting through the trees and hoping whatever Tony had turned into wouldn’t chase him. Damien was very upset and confused. He needed his brother.

A wild shriek echoed through the woods, bringing him shuddering to a halt. That came from in front of him. The thing behind him howled again; the noise seemed closer, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he could hide here, the foliage screened off the rest of the woods. He cocked his head, trying to listen for any noise other than the sound of his heart trying to beat its way out of his ribcage. If it was following him, he’d be able to hear the snapping of twigs and undergrowth being torn aside - it didn’t strike him as being a subtle creature.

He took in a lungful of air, held it, then let it out in five short breaths. The last one exploded out of him. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He wanted to go home, he wanted his brother and he wanted his Xbox. He was too confused to care about anything anymore; he slumped down on a tree-stump, sobs wracking through his chest.

Damien had no idea how long he’d been sat on that stump. It could have been minutes or even hours. He lost all sense of time when his brain decided enough was enough and called time out. The sun had moved position, resting on the hills, instead of above him.

When he stood up, he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from screaming out in agony. The top half of his legs felt like they were on fire. He must have been here for ages, his whole body ached from having been still for so long.

It had been many months since he’d had an attack of that magnitude. His memory was fragmented, all jumbled up. What he could remember didn’t gel.

He’d feel better once he got home, perhaps everything would click into place when he was in familiar surroundings. A little sleep after a hot chocolate sounded brilliant. If it was as late as he thought it was his mother must be worried sick. He wondered where Alan was.

The pain in his legs had almost gone and the aches in the rest of his body had receded into the background. He turned around in a tight circle, trying to get his bearings. He didn’t have a clue where he was but wasn’t that alarmed. Holburn Woods wasn’t large; all he had to do was to find a footpath, and they all led to exits. He saw where he must have come in; the ferns had been trampled down.

The woods were silent, except for the occasional bird song and the creaking of branches. Damien had second thoughts on whether this was the way out or not when he was confronted by a dense barrier of heather. That creaking noise was beginning to unnerve him now. He wasn’t going to be defeated by a load of stupid plants. He must have come this way; the stuff must have sprung up again, concealing his way in.

He parted one of the plants and glanced down, he couldn’t see anything suggesting that he’d trampled through this but now he didn’t care. This was the way he was going to go and that was that. He lifted the first leg and dropped it into the heather followed by the other one. He was now surrounded by green foliage, unable to see his legs and feet.

There could be any number of creepy crawlies ready to jump onto his clothing and he wasn’t bothered one bit. He was almost tempted to take his gloves off. He took a couple of steps and was relieved to see the edge of a council made designated path just in front of him.

A flash of white caused him to look up. There was something moving back and forwards through the trees like a pendulum.

He stepped out of the heather, shook the bits off his jeans and stood on the path. He was tempted to ignore it. If he hurried, he could be home in less than an hour, safe in his bedroom with a game-pad in his hand and trying to clock his latest game: Biogenesis 4 on his Xbox.

The sound of creaking was coming in that direction, somebody had made a swing and somebody wearing white was playing on it. Well, Alan had a white tee shirt underneath his jacket. The sound of laughter floated through the trees, it sounded like he was there with Jennifer. Damien would bet Tony was there too.

He couldn’t believe it, they had forgotten about him. Alan had run off with his new friends, leaving him to fend for himself. He stomped along the path feeling more betrayed than ever, their mocking sounds burning his back. He stopped and turned around, there was no way, he’d let them get away with this, and jogged towards the swinging figure. He was going to give him a piece of his mind and then he’d tell Jennifer just what Alan had been saying about her.

As he approached the swinging figure, he saw he was mistaken. It wasn’t Alan; it didn’t look anything like him. It was just some kid who looked even younger than him. The kid hadn’t noticed him yet. Good lord, what was he wearing? He looked like a miniature version of his granddad but with grey shorts on. He must be one of those posh grammar school kids from the next town.

The source of the laughter revealed itself. It was another young boy dressed like the first one who emerged from a hole in the bracken, carrying an armful of branches and berating the other one for not helping him.

Damien tried to retrace his steps before the boys saw him. He’d had enough excitement today without having to go through the awkward ritual of speaking to a pair of strange looking boys. The boy holding the sticks dropped them and informed the other that he was sick of building the roof before storming back through the hole. The white shirted lad placed both feet on the ground, turned his head and smiled.

“Hello. Do you want a go on my swing?”

He didn’t seem all that surprised to see him nor was he nervous about his sudden appearance. Damien knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d be terrified.

“No thank you.” he replied. “Have you seen a boy and girl pass through here?”

The boy shook his head. “Nope, nobody comes down here.”

Having decided that Damien wasn’t going to be his playmate, he grabbed the rope and got back onto the swing. The rhythmic creaking of the branch started up. Deciding that the boy had either forgotten about him or he was just being ignored, Damien made his way back to the path before his other friend showed up.

The sun was dipping behind the hills; it would be dark soon. Maybe he should ask the boys if they wanted to walk out with him but thought better of it. What if they said no or just laughed at him. He didn’t think he’d be able to deal with that kind of rejection. He turned around intending to at least wave to the lad when something big and black flew past him heading for the swinging boy.

Despite all instinct telling him to do otherwise, he set off in chase. Damien hollowed a warning but the boy carried on swinging, oblivious to the threat heading towards him at high speed.

The black, man shaped thing was almost on top of the boy and didn’t seem to have any intention of slowing down. The creaking of the branch was drowning out every other sound including Damien’s repeated attempts to get the boy to turn around. The black shape reached the boy and stopped. Damien could no longer see the swinging boy. The shape lifted off the ground, floating up. When it was above the boy’s head, it twisted into a funnel shape then fell into the top of the boy’s head.

Damien stopped. The scene in front of him faded out, slowly replaced by another. A man in a blue overall had lifted the boy off the ground and was wrapping the rope around his neck. Damien looked around the woodland floor to see if he could find anything he could use as a weapon. The only thing he saw was a broken branch; he picked it up and threw it at the man. The branch missed him but it got his attention, the man let go of the boy’s wrist, roared, then lumbered towards him.

He wasn’t expecting that. He was sure the stick would sail through the air, hit the man on the back of the head and knock him out. He never thought his plan might fail and he’d be putting himself in danger.

The man picked up the stick on his way past - not that he needed it, he was huge, he made Damien look like a garden gnome.

Damien found himself back in the heather, unable to move. The plants had wound themselves around his legs and held him tight. The man was almost on top of him, raising the stick above his head.

Damien’s frantic hands slashed through the plant stems but the stuff was growing faster than he could tear it off. He looked away from the man, not wanting to see the stick come crashing down upon his head, and into the clearing. The tree-stump was occupied by someone else. His brother was sat on it. Jennifer sat on his knees, both locked in a passionate embrace.

Alan ignored his screams. The only person in the world who had ever cared about him was too busy trying to get inside Jennifer’s bra than care what happened to his brother.

The man in the overalls lowered the stick and grinned down at the boy. His teeth were black, then he realised they weren’t teeth.

They were ants. The man opened his mouth wide, hordes of tiny, black ants poured out of his mouth, ears and eyes and dropped onto the heather. They travelled en mass towards Damien’s wrist. He grabbed a handful, ignoring the bites coming through the fabric of his gloves and squashed them together. An impossible amount of blood squirted through his fingers.

“You’re killing my brother, you fat pig!” Alan shouted. The man groaned again. He jumped onto the heather, the ants parted; he grabbed Damien’s hair and pulled him forward.

He was going to choke him, like he had tried to with that other boy. Some of the ants landed on his face, crawling up his cheek towards his eye. He felt the man’s hand’s around his neck.

His waist up to his chest was on fire due to the amount of bites he’d received but it was nothing compared to being choked. The man then pushed his head into the seething mass of wriggling black bodies; before he went under the baying laughter of his brother and Jennifer echoed through his ears.

Chapter Two

Damien awoke with a scream dying on his lips. He opened his eyes, the vivid dream fragmenting and fading away like wisps of smoke. He ran his hand over his face, sweat pouring off him. He wondered if he was coming down with something, he always had freaky and downright weird dreams just before the onset of some annoying virus. As he threw the covers back, he realized that he wasn’t alone. He looked up and saw his older brother, Alan, grinning back at him, holding one of his many games out in front of him like it was a sacred trophy.

“I finished Biogenesis 4 twenty eight minutes ago and I saved the game.”

His brother’s face showed a mix of optimism and apprehension. He’d seen the look on Tony’s face recently but couldn’t remember where, did he just dream that? A picture popped up showing Alan snogging his girlfriend.

“Do you want to watch the replay with me?”

Damien shook his head to clear the images, wondering if he ought to dose himself up with a few Lemsips just in case.

Alan’s hands were bereft of his trademark black leather gloves. The ends of his fingers were red raw, what the hell had he been doing?

“Have you lost your gloves again?”

Alan shook his head. “I didn’t put them back on after I put the game pad down.” He ran his finger down the edge of Damien’s light switch.

“See! I’m cured. There’s no way I’m putting those gloves back on.”

Damien climbed out of bed and placed his dressing gown over his boxers. Alan was about to make the bed but Damien shook his head, guiding his brother to the door.

Was Alan managing to get to grips with this weird obsession with dirt or was he just pretending? He could never tell what was going through his mind.

“I’ll watch the replay with you later this afternoon Alan, I promise.”

Alan padded out of his bedroom heading for the bathroom and Damien clicked the door shut. He waited a minute then eased the door open a crack. His brother left the bathroom, now wearing his gloves.

Damien opened his wardrobe and started the task of working out what he was going to wear today. It was Saturday so no college; he decided on casual but smart. He was supposed to be meeting Jen later so the grey canvas shirt she’d bought for him last week was the perfect choice. He wasn’t too keen on it but she liked to see him wearing her purchases.

He threw the clothes on the bed and shut the wardrobe. Alan had left his video game on his pillow. The cover displayed a large man covered in insects holding a studded club. Damien screwed up his face.

“Very nice.” he said. His brother played some seriously strange games. He was good at them too, and he knew for a fact that he could outplay any of Damien’s friends.

He slipped the shirt over his T shirt, put his loafers on then picked the game up. He’d better return this. Alan was fanatic about his possessions, almost as bad as this thing he had with hygiene. He was surprised he’d left it here; it was so unlike him to be so forgetful. Damien put it down to him being so excited with finishing it. He flipped it over and read the blurb. As far as he was concerned, all these games were just a load of rubbish designed for big kids. He shrugged, who was he to criticize? It was the only thing that kept his brother happy.

He opened the door and wandered into his brother’s bedroom, expecting to see him plugged into his Xbox. The bedroom was empty.

He must have gone on the hunt for food. Either that or he’d discovered a tiny piece of dust on his hands and was intending to spend the next hour scrubbing his hands raw.

Before dropping the game on his bed, he took one more look at the cover. There was something about the grotesque image that bothered him. It seemed familiar but he hadn’t a clue why.

He cracked the case open, intending to look at the manual when something small and black fell out and landed on the carpet. He bent down to pick it up, thinking it must be a piece of fluff.

It was a dead ant.

He dropped it into his top pocket; he’d flush it down the toilet once he was out of here. Damien didn’t have a problem with insects but Alan would have a fit if he found that on his carpet

After checking the box for more dead ants, he threw the case on the bed where it bounced off, spilling the contents all over the floor. Damien washed his hands of the whole affair, Alan could sort it. There was no way he was going anywhere near that horrible cover again. That picture was the stuff of nightmares.

That passing thought caused a cascade of gruesome and violent images to pass through his head. His fell to his knees and clutched his head. Oh Christ, this was bad. Eventually the images faded, leaving him weak and washed out.

Damien opened his eyes, grabbed his brother’s covers, pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. He’d snapped the game CD in half; he must have fallen on it when he went down on his knees. His brother would be so upset.

The doorbell rang. Damien got up and staggered over to the window to see who it was.

Jennifer and her brother stood there; the door opened and he saw himself wander out, followed by his mother. The full memory of last night’s dreams hit him in the face with the force of a studded club. The last thing he heard before falling against the glass was Alan screaming behind him.

Chapter Three

Andrew Butterworth jerked his finger out from between the bars like he’d touched a naked flame. Pete Grayson heard the new starter swearing at the little animal in the cage and padded over with foreboding. What had upset him this time?

“What’s wrong, Andrew?”

Andrew pointed at the chinchilla sat on its hind legs at the back of the cage munching on some fresh leaves. The lad shook with anger.

“That vicious little bastard just tried to bite me. Have you seen the size of its fucking teeth?”

Andrew gave the animal in question evil stares, so Pete felt it safe to roll his eyes and sigh.

“I swear, if that thing had gotten hold of my finger, it would have bitten it through to the bone.”

Pete suppressed a chuckle, tapped a bar twice with his fingernail and stroked the back of its ear when the chinchilla scurried over to investigate.

“You must have startled it, Andrew. This little thing is about as dangerous as a wet dishcloth.”

“It knows you,” Andrew replied sullenly. “That’s why he’s letting you touch it.”

Pete walked back to the bird cages to continue feeding the budgies. He wasn’t about to start up yet another dispute. Andrew had shown him just how ignorant he was about caged pets half an hour ago when he’d thought the gerbils were mice. When Pete corrected him, Andrew called him a lying fuck and threatened to punch his teeth through the back of his throat. Andrew’s response had been so sudden. The only way Pete had escaped damage was by showing him the difference in a children’s book. He agreed with Andrew how easy it was to make the mistake, of course he didn’t mean to call him a liar and would he like anything from the newsagents over the road? Pete was just popping out anyway. Don’t worry, he was buying.

Pete’s boss had given him the impression that their new starter was going to be some sort of animal expert, a wiz at customer relations and a genuine down to earth nice guy.

Although he didn’t understand his boss’s decision to hire extra help, the store wasn’t that busy, he would welcome the company. It would give him somebody to talk to.

His profound shock must have been visible when he was introduced to the lad first thing this morning, and yet his boss had found his reaction amusing. Pete had been expecting some student, bookish type wearing glasses, perhaps a teenage version of Pete. Instead, the new starter looked like he wrestled cows before he killed and ate them. Ex army boots, combat pants and a khaki shirt that looked like it hadn’t been washed since World War One were Andrews’s idea of suitable clothing for an assistant in a pet shop. Pete guessed that his animal expertise stopped at trapping rabbits down Holburn woods or stealing hen eggs from one of the local farms.

What on Earth was his boss playing at? Couldn’t he see that this mean-looking scruffy ape would ruin the business before the month was over?

Pete had been given a couple of weeks to train him up. His boss had taken him to one side, leaving Andrew to sit on Pete’s favourite chair by the till, picking his nose whilst reading Pete’s paper.

“I’m not blind; I saw the look on your face just then.” He held up his hand. “Don’t interrupt Peter. Look, I’m doing this as a favour okay? That means you’re doing me a favour by looking after him. He’ll be out of here in a few weeks.”

His new boss led Pete to the front door and shook his hand. “Be gentle with him, Peter.”

He hated people calling him Peter. His boss then climbed into a bright red open top Porsche sports car and sped off down Holburn’s high street.

Pete didn’t need to be a fortune teller to predict that Andrew would make his life intolerable for the coming month and there was nothing he could do about it.

He’d be thirty nine years old next month. Pete had spent the last few years struggling to parent a very belligerent teenage daughter. His experience with dealing with his very own hellion should have given him enough proficiency to pacify even this thug.

Pete’s trouble was that he didn’t look his age. With his youthful round features and with a full mop of long, black hair, he could pass for someone a decade his junior. The boy must see him as some bloke just a few years older than him, certainly not as a father figure or someone in authority. It wouldn’t take much to provoke this gorilla into lashing out.

Andrew had followed him back to the bird cages, breathing down the back of his neck. It looked like he was going to have another confrontation whether he wanted one or not.

“You don’t believe me,” he said. “You think I’m making this up.”

He continued to feed the parrots, acting as if the boy wasn’t there. Pete was determined not to let the boy unnerve him. Andrew showed that he didn’t like to be ignored by prodding him twice in the back.

“That chinchilla is gentle and timid. He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” said Pete. He kept his eyes fixed on the parrot. If he turned and faced him, Pete would start to stammer and he didn’t want Andrew to see the fear in his eyes.

The lad saved him the trouble by planting his shovel-like hands on his shoulders and spinning him around. His bag of bird seed flew out of his hand and hit the side of the counter.

“I know what I saw. That thing in there is dangerous.”

The only thing in the shop that was dangerous was the tiny brained gorilla, currently squeezing his shoulders. Pete would have big thick bruises there tomorrow, he knew it.

“I’ll tell you this much for nothing. If it tries that again, I’ll wring its fucking neck.”

Pete flinched. Andrew meant it as well, oh God. How the hell was he going to survive for one whole month with this evil bastard walking all over him? He looked into his blazing eyes and contorted features for a moment before averting his eyes. Why were all modern kids so angry at everything?

Andrew reached into his pockets, shuffled around and brought out a boiled sweet covered in blue fluff; he stared at it for a second then popped it into his mouth.

“Can you eat them? That grey rabbit thing?” Andrew looked at Pete’s aghast face then burst out laughing.

“I think I’m going to like it here”. He pushed past Pete and sat by the till, swung his mud encrusted boots on the desk knocking a neat pile of RSPCA leaflets all over the floor and started to read the back page of Pete’s paper.

Pete felt like he’d gone back in time twenty five years to his school days. He knew that the chances were very high that the big shit pretending he could read would be related to one of those bastards who used to steal his lunch money and beat him up on a regular basis. He would just have to keep telling himself that a month wasn’t all that long. Besides, he couldn’t see the lad staying in the shop all that time.

The doorbell chimed and a young woman entered the shop. She saw Pete struggling to pick up the leaflets and rushed over to help him.

“Thanks, Jennifer.” He took the remaining leaflets and placed them back on the desk, away from Andrew’s big boots. “Is it the usual?”

“Yes please, Pete.”

Andrew slammed the newspaper down, scattering the leaflets and slouched around the counter.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He stared down her top. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting some stuff.” she murmured, covering her chest with her arms.

Pete wondered how the fat oaf could know his niece but it was obvious that she didn’t much care for him. Then again, Pete suspected most people who knew Andrew probably thought that he was a bit of a twat. An ugly, inbred, sadistic, thick twat.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” she asked. “Is the chip shop shut? Or are you looking for a furry friend?”

He tugged at the overall that was too small for him. “I work here now.”

“Oh Jesus God,” she muttered.

“Andrew? Would you be so kind and get this customer’s order from the storeroom?” Pete said that without a quiver in his voice.

The lad saluted him then winked at Jennifer. “Yes, boss.”

When he had gone, Jennifer pulled Pete towards him, she looked furious. “What the bloody hell is he doing here?” she hissed. “Have you any idea who that bastard is?”

He removed her hands and smoothed the shirt down. “Don’t get ratty with me love, I didn’t hire him.”

“He’s bad news, Uncle. You need to get rid of him.”

Pete shrugged.

“Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care, but I’m not in a position to do anything about it now, am I?”

She took hold of both his hands. “I’m sorry, Uncle; I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this isn’t your shop anymore. I still don’t understand why you had to sell it.”

“And one day I’ll explain why. I promise.”

She let go of his hand at the sound of Andrew returning.

“You watch your back, Pete.”

“I can handle him,” he whispered.

Andrew came out of the store room with a large sack of Complete Dog Food slung over his shoulder. He hit the chinchilla cage with the bottom of the sack when he turned around.

“Do you want me to put this in your car, love?”

He was carrying that sack like it weighed nothing; Pete had trouble even dragging those sacks.

“No thank you,” she said. “I can manage.”

He dropped the sack of dog food on the floor. “Fuck you then bitch; it’s no skin off my nose.”

He made a show of looking at his watch. “Ok boss, I’m off for dinner.” He picked up Pete’s paper and left the shop, slamming the door after him.

“It’s only half past ten,” she said.

“Who cares?” replied Pete. “I’m just glad to get rid of him. With a bit of luck he won’t come back.”

He took hold of the top of the sack and dragged it towards the door, Jennifer was holding open for him.

“I mean it, Uncle. I want you to take care when he’s about.”

He managed to get the dog food into the back of her Ford Fiesta. “Don’t worry; I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

She shook her head. “You really don’t know who Andrew Butterworth is do you?”

“Should I?”

“Do you remember Michael Richards?”

Pete shuddered; he’d never forget that name. Michael Richards had terrorised him through five years of secondary school.

“Well, Andrews’s his nephew and he’s more of a bastard than his Uncle ever was.”

The genuine look of concern on her face touched him; he’d never seen her like this before. She really was frightened for him.

“I’ve gone through forty years of life so far relatively unscathed and I’ve come across worse characters than him, believe me. Now is that annoying brother of mine still having that barbeque Sunday night?”

She got into her car and fastened the seatbelt. “You are still coming aren’t you?”

He nodded. “I’m not going to turn down the offer of free food, even if my brother has cooked it.”

He watched her pull out and drive off down the high street. When she turned the corner he dropped the smile. Pete Grayson was worried about his future and his livelihood. The guy who had offered to buy his shop three months ago when he had been stupid enough to get involved with a loan shark was an old school friend, Alex Marshall. He knew how much trouble that Richards character had been to Pete as a kid. There was no way that he wouldn’t know that Andrew was related to him.

He slumped back to his shop, pondering what to do over this bombshell that had landed in his lap. Could this day get any worse?

Chapter Four

Could this bastard pain get any worse? It was like having his head trapped under a huge rock, Jesus, the pressure behind his eyes was becoming intolerable. What the hell was this? Damien sat on the floor in the corner of his bedroom wall with his knees up as far as they could go.

Until a couple of minutes ago, he’d felt fine, until the appalling sensation of drowning under miles of ocean crept up on him and threw him to the floor. Damien crawled over to the corner, threw a thick towel behind his head and groaned.

He’d been aware of Alan bursting through the door a few seconds after this had started but he was unable to even acknowledge him, let alone cry for help. Alan sat on the end of Damien’s bed just looking at him. He didn’t move, speak or ask if he needed any help, nothing. He just picked at the ends of his gloves while Damien felt the weight of a mountain crushing his head. He slammed his eyelids down. If he hadn’t his eyes would have been pushed out.

“I’m sorry about this, Damien. Really I am. I’ll get you a glass of water. I’ll sprinkle some magic powder into it; Damien, it’ll make you better.”

The bedsprings squealed then his bedroom door slammed shut. Damien was left alone.

He couldn’t stay like this forever, head pressed against the walls; he knew that his mum was downstairs, probably watching some shite on TV. All he had to do was lift one leg and drop it and she’d be up here like a shot. His mum would give him some tablets, call the doctor and everything would be ok again.

All he had to do was just lift the leg up and drop it down. So why was he so reluctant to do it then? He tried to ram his head deeper into the towel. Oh God in heaven, please make it fucking stop!

This wasn’t just a headache. As soon as he described the symptoms to the doctor coupled with the freaky nightmares, he’d be carted off to see a special doctor. One of many - thanks to Alan - that his family were now on first name terms with.

Someone tapped on his door twice. It had to be Alan with his fucking glass of water.

There were times when his brother’s eccentric behaviour could really grate. He’d doubtless spent the last ten minutes going through the kitchen cupboards looking for the magic powder. Alan tapped another couple of times on the door.

God damn it! Why didn’t he just come in? Damien couldn’t raise his voice, it was bad enough speaking.

He hadn’t thought about the magic powder for years. His mum always told him that his food and drink was sprinkled with it when ever either of the boys was poorly.

Back then, he had an older brother, a proper one. A brother that used to look after him, teach him cool things. Someone he admired and looked up to, instead of the dribbling imbecile he had now.

Another tap on the door.

“For crying out loud!” he shouted. “Come in!” His head almost imploded. Jesus Christ, what the bloody hell did he have to do that for?

Alan pushed open the door and walked across, both hands gripping the full glass. He was being extra careful not to spill it. It was full to the brim; only the surface tension was holding it in. Alan reached his younger brother and crouched before him.

“This will make you feel lots better,” he said. “Drink it all up.”

There was something not right here.

“It’s yellow.” Damien whispered. “Why is the water that colour? Have you pissed in it? Is this your revenge for snapping your game disc?”

“It’s got magic powder in it,” Alan smirked. “Drink it all up; it’ll make you feel lots better.”

His brother placed it into Damien’s hands. He wasn’t prepared for the weight; it almost slipped through his fingers. The glass was ice cold.

“Don’t spill any of it! Jen will be here soon. You don’t want her to see you like this do you?”

Damien brought the glass up to his nose and took an apprehensive sniff. It didn’t smell like Alan had taken a wiz in it. If anything, it smelled of lemon.

Magic powder my arse; he’d poured some food colouring into the water, no wonder he had a big smirk plastered all over his face earlier. So why wasn’t he grinning now?

“Drink it.” he said. “You’ve got to drink it now. She’ll be here soon.” Alan pushed the glass closer to Damien’s mouth. “She can’t see you like this, it’s too early.”

Alan tipped the glass up and made Damien drink the lot in three gulps. The pressure on his head lifted, leaving a mild throbbing ache just behind his eyes. Damien was too shocked to do anything but look at the glass. The remaining drops rolled down the inside and collected at the bottom.

“The throbbing will be gone in a bit.”

Alan rocked back and forth on his heels, a smug grin plastered over his face. “I told you, didn’t I?”

Damien placed the class on an empty bookshelf then strode up close to Alan. “What the fuck is going on? Since when did you turn into a medicine man?”

Alan cowered away from his brother, retreating to the door. “The doorbell’s about to go. Just be happy that you’ll now stay the same, Damien. Don’t be mad.”

Alan opened the door but didn’t leave.

“Have you not got some aliens to kill?” Damien asked. Physically, he felt great but his mind was still all over the place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make your bed?”

“No I don’t. Alan, will you please leave me be.”

He still wasn’t moving, as if he was waiting for Damien to do something.

“Alan, will you please just fuck off.” Damien almost called him a dribbling imbecile out loud this time.

He spun around and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He guessed Alan would stay in his bedroom for the rest of the day. Damien considered going after him but then had second thoughts, if he’d upset him, there was a chance that Alan wouldn’t talk to anyone now for days. What was his mother going to say? He sat on the edge of the bed and cupped his head in his hands. Alan was right, the throbbing was receding and so was the memory of the dreams.

Alan burst through the door again, marched up to Damien and threw something down at his feet. “You owe me a new game!” he announced. “And by the way, I’m not a dribbling imbecile!”

“Alan! Look, I didn’t mean what I said, okay?”

Alan stopped at the door with his back to Damien and stared at the white painted wooden door frame. “There are monsters coming, Damien.”

The chiming of the front door bell echoed downstairs. Alan walked through the door then stopped in the hallway. “You can buy me a new game when the monsters have gone.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Alan ignored him and padded into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“What’s wrong with your brother?”

Jennifer was coming up the stairs.

“You haven’t upset him have you?”

He shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’ve done. What are you doing here anyway?” He held up his hand. “Not that I don’t like having you turn up unexpectedly, it’s just, I thought you were driving over to your dad’s.”

She followed Damien into his bedroom and wrapped her arms around his neck then covered his face in kisses then burst into tears. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back.

“Jesus, Jen. What’s wrong?”

“Just hold me.”

He did as she asked, stroking her hair.

“Has somebody upset you?” He thought of Alan storming off into the bathroom and wandered if he was the best person this morning to offer comfort to anyone.

“I’ve just seen a ghost from the past.” she said.

“From London?”

Jennifer nodded. “I thought he was dead, I hoped he was and now the bastard has shown up here.”

Damien kept quiet and just held her, there were a million questions he wanted to ask but didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring this on you.” She wiped her eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m not usually in the habit of unloading my burdens onto blokes I’ve only known for a couple of weeks, it’s just that it was such a shock seeing him.”

Damien sat her down on the bed and pulled up a chair for himself.

“Can you tell me what he did?”

She first took a deep breath then searched through her bag. She brought out a tissue and dried her face with it. Damien took it off her and placed it in his pockets, thinking that it may come in useful later on.

“Me and my best mate from school had been invited to this party at some big posh house a couple of miles from where I lived. I was thirteen at the time and dead excited, it was my first invite.”

Damien nodded. The last party he’d been invited to had balloons and birthday cake. At that age, he was stuck at home looking after his brother who’d just come out of hospital.

“It was my friend you see, Alison. A week didn’t go by without at least one boy asking her out, she attracted the boys like moths to a flame.”

“You make it sound like she was prettier than you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Damien. Now shut up. My dad dropped us off at the house and told us he’d be back at nine. We had three hours to become party animals and for a couple of hours we did just that.”

Jennifer stroked the back of his hand. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t an illegal rave in the middle of a field or anyway. It was organised, nobody over eighteen and no alcohol - although I remember a couple of bottles of homemade wine getting passed about.”

Jennifer tightened her grip on his hand.

“You okay?” he said.

She nodded. “I only left her for a minute so I could go to the toilet, when I got back there was this big lad, a right scruffy bastard he was. He was trying to get a dance off Alison and she was having none of it. I never saw him before but you could tell he was trouble.”

“What did you do?”

“I got help but by the time we got back, he had run off and Alison was on the floor having convulsions. It turned out that he’d spiked her drink.”

When she said that, Damien thought about his yellow water.

“A week later, he followed me from school and when there was nobody about, he dragged me into a nearby park and into some bushes.”

The colour left his face. “Oh Christ Jen, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t faint on me Damien. He didn’t manage to get very far. The park wasn’t as empty as he thought. My screams attracted the attention of a gay couple who accidentally dragged him out of the bushes by his hair and kicked the shit out of him.”

Damien looked at his girlfriend in a new light. Good God, she had bigger balls than he did. He tried to picture the terror she must have felt when that monster got hold of her, knowing full well what he was going to try and do. To be the victim of such a brutal attack, yet not let the experience show. He thought of what happened to Alan six years ago and wished he could have done the same. He wouldn’t have a clue if she hadn’t seen that lad today.

He realized that she hadn’t told him where she had seen him. A lead weight settled in the pit of his stomach. “He was just passing through wasn’t he? Don’t tell me he’s moved here.”

“Its worse, he’s working in my Uncle’s shop.”

“Right, well I’ll tell him to keep away from you.”

She shook her head, “Don’t be silly. He’ll turn you into burger meat.”

He wasn’t too sure how to take that. She continued.

“What I want you to do is to persuade Tony not to go after him.”

“You’re joking aren’t you? Are you saying that you never told Tony?”

She shook her head; her eyes were filling up again. “You’re the only person I’ve ever told.”

He was about to ask her why but bit his tongue just in time. He nodded. “Ok Jen, consider it done.”

“Thank you.” She kissed the tip of his nose and then stood up. “I’ll deal with him my own way.”

“Are you going?”

“I have to, my dad will be wondering where I’ve got to. I didn’t know I was coming here until I drove past the end of your road. I just needed some reassurance, you know?”

For some reason it seemed incredibly important to ask his brother how he knew she was coming, come to think of it how did he know he’d called him a dribbling imbecile? He wondered where he was.

Jen hugged him.

“Can’t you stay?” he asked.

“I’ll see you later sweetheart I promise, besides, I’m not the only one who’s craving your attention.”

Damien turned around; Alan was stood by the door, playing with the hem of his cream jumper. Where the hell did he appear from? He wasn’t there a second ago.

“Hi Alan,” she said. “Are you coming out with us this afternoon?”

He just looked at his feet and told her that he had other plans. She smiled at him then kissed Damien again. She squeezed past Alan. “I’ll leave you two boys alone then. Alan, if you change your mind, you’re very welcome to join us.”

Alan nodded once then continued to look at his feet.

Damien waited for the door at the bottom of the stairs to shut before walking up to his bookshelf. He picked up the glass, noting that the inside of it was now coated with a film of tiny yellow crystals. He thrust the glass into his brother’s hands.

“Are you now ready to tell me what the hell is going on? For a start, why don’t you tell me how you cured me?”

“It wasn’t a cure, I’m insulating you. Now hush up little brother, we have monsters to talk about.”

Damien lost it. “I don’t want to hear about your pissing video games!”

Alan staggered back, dropping the glass.

“Just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”

Alan just stood there, then looked up and grinned. Damien turned his back to him, he’d had enough. Alan tapped him on the back of his shoulders.

“You dropped this in my bedroom.”

He passed him a small box. It was a mobile phone, it wasn’t his but it looked familiar. Damien flipped opened the handset and looked at the image displayed on the screen. It was a picture of a severed ear.

Chapter Five

He glanced behind him as he hurried along the woodland path. Arthur Wright knew those brats were still following him. Arthur may have been getting on but he wasn’t blind. Was that a flash of orange he saw nipping behind the trunk of that ancient oak? Of course it bloody was.

It shamed him to admit that the confrontation with those kids a few minutes back had really intimidated him. Arthur held out his hand, wincing in disgust at the noticeable shaking.

“I hate being old.” He muttered.

He looked in abhorrence at the mobile phone sat in the palm of his other hand. Arthur had almost called the police. Since when did he start running to the Old Bill just because a feral pack of snot-noses called him a few nasty names?

If Arthur hadn’t been so caught up worrying about his sister’s threatened visit then he may have noticed them before they could spring their surprise. Four young teenagers leaped out from behind a bank of bramble bushes. He thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Arthur was beside himself with anger.

What pissed him off more than anything was how they reacted when he gave them a bloody good bollocking. Arthur expected them to run off after he’d given them a piece of his mind but no, they’d just stood there, smirking at each other. It wasn’t until the largest boy, some scruffy kid, no older than fourteen suddenly pelted it down the path when the others followed suit.

He dropped the phone back into his inside pocket, next to his wallet. It would stay there too; Arthur wished he hadn’t brought it now. He hated mobile phones.

His eldest son had given him the bloody thing for his sixty third birthday. God knows what Neil must have been thinking buying him that. Arthur then remembered the half concealed smirk that Neil’s bitch of a wife gave him just before his son handed the present over. Helen obviously thought he was too old to embrace new technology, too old and over the hill. She thought that he was just a doddering old idiot and was no doubt just waiting for him to die so she could get her hands on his stuff. She wasn’t the only woman who had their beady little eyes on his possessions; his sister was just as bad. Well, they both had a bloody shock coming to her when he did pop off; he was going to donate everything he owned to charity.

Did those bloody kids see him as a doddering idiot, an easy target? He hated getting old just as he hated the fact that he had to retire. Those kids wouldn’t have tried it on when he’d had the butcher’s shop in the high street. They would have run off all right, but running home crying for mummy, saying that the nasty butcher had threatened to carve them up with his sharp knife and put them in a pie.

Arthur stopped and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. He no longer had the knife but he did have his walking stick. He used the solid ash length of wood to draw wavy lines through the leaf litter. If they did come back, he would have no reservations about wrapping his stick round their bloody heads.

He ran his hand through his remaining hair then stared in hatred at a couple of grey strands, wrapped around his chunky fingers. It didn’t seem like five minutes ago, since he’d had a luxurious mane of thick brown hair; along with his squat but powerful frame, Arthur used to be a force to be reckoned with. The top of his head may now look like it was coated in wispy smoke and his once powerful muscles were now covered in a layer of fat but he definitely wasn’t the frail pensioner that those kids obviously thought he was.

“Angus!” He shouted. “Where the bloody hell are you?”

Something moved at high speed through the undergrowth on the other side of the path. There were two short, sharp barks.

“Angus! Come here right now!”

He was chasing squirrels again. This was Angus number two. He had been a present from the bloke who ran the pet shop when Angus number one had died six years ago. He’d had Angus number one for ten years and he knew for a fact that if he was still alive, those kids would have shit themselves. Angus number one was an ex-police dog and he hated kids. Unlike this Angus; when those four kids jumped out and demanded cigarettes, the little wire-haired, black and white terrier ran around their feet with a stick dripping in saliva lodged in his mouth. He only moved away when the oldest one tried to kick him.

He didn’t bother calling his dog again, there was no point. He’d come back in his own sweet time, when he had caught and torn apart whatever he was chasing.

God, he was tired, it was just his pride and self-esteem that hurt, but he was developing a stitch underneath his ribs. He spotted a tree stump a bit further on; he could sit on that while he waited for his dog to come back.

Arthur walked through the ancient woodland, his ears attuned to the sound of the woods. He told himself that he was listening out for his dog but in reality Arthur was still convinced that those kids were still behind him. He eased himself onto the tree stump and rubbed the back of his legs, he’d have to have a good hot soak tonight. If he didn’t, he knew his joints would seize up, leaving him shuffling about like a cripple all the next day. Arthur was about to curse the gods again for making him old when he saw something, a flash of red hurtling between a couple of trees. He knew it! The little sods had been following him.

He maintained a tight grip on his stick. This was one retired butcher who wasn’t going to be intimidated by a bunch of snot nosed brats. He wasn’t even going to stand up. The kids weren’t even attempting to conceal themselves now, all four swaggering towards him as bold as brass they were. Each wearing the same identikit yobbo uniform; even the girl, could she not see how ridiculous she looked? He thought she could be such a pretty little thing if she donned a dress, had a perm and softened that hard, sneering face.

The eldest boy and the girl started collecting stones off the ground; it wasn’t hard to see their intent. The two younger boys dawdled behind the girl, hitting the tree trunks with large sticks. Arthur still didn’t get up, they wouldn’t dare start throwing those stones and this was Holburn for crying out loud not the Bronx.

The eldest boy stopped, he offloaded his stones to one of the younger ones then slouched closer to Arthur.

“My girlfriend has taken a fancy to your stick,” he said. “I’m willing to swap it for this one.”

The girl giggled. Was he being serious? He looked at this boy who wouldn’t even start shaving for another few years, standing there like the world owed him a living or something. The boy put his hand into his pocket, fiddling about with something; Arthur doubted that it was loose change.

“He ain’t gonna answer you. I bet the old bastard’s deaf.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll make the cunt talk to me…”

It had been a long time since he’d been sized up. This little shit actually fancied his chances. Arthur almost laughed out loud until the pains in his legs reminded him that he was sixty six and the prime of his life had been decades ago. The boy took his hand out his pocket. The hand now contained a flick knife. The blade snicked open.

“Throw your stick over here and I won’t cut you.”

Arthur knew the sensible thing to do was to just do it and hope that he wasn’t lying. That wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that he was going to give up his fiftieth birthday present from his wife just because some kid showed him his pig sticker.

“You shouldn’t threaten people with knives unless you mean to use it. The police have already been called.” He started to get up. “The best thing you can do…”

He didn’t finish his sentence; the girl ran over and pushed him back down then tried to snatch his walking stick off him. Arthur responded by grabbing it with both hands and pulling back. She didn’t expect the old man to be so strong.

Forty years of working in the butchery trade made sure that his muscles were almost as strong as the animals he used to cut up. It may have been a few years since he’d worked behind the counter; he hadn’t lost that much muscle. Surprised, the girl let go and the walking stick snapped forward and hit her full force across her shins. The girl yelped and fell to the floor.

Arthur saw the expression in the boy’s face change from shock to fury so he took the only avenue that seemed open to him. He stood up and raised the stick above the crying girl’s face. The boy stopped in mid run, the knife almost slipped from his fingers.

“Drop the knife you little turd, or I’ll open up your pretty girlfriends face.”

The two boys spun round and fled. Arthur was disgusted with himself for doing this but what else could he have done? The boy wouldn’t be just satisfied with just stealing his walking stick, the little bastard would try to beat him to death with it as well for making him look a fool in front of his mates.

The girl was no longer sobbing. She must’ve been bloody terrified. He daren’t look at her for fear of taking his eyes off the boy and she would see the shame in his eyes. For one horrible moment, he thought the boy was going to call his bluff. He raised the stick a little higher.

“Drop that fucking knife!” he shouted.

The boy switched the knife to his other hand then threw it down, it stuck in the ground cutting a leaf in half. Arthur relaxed and lowered the stick.

“Good boy.”

The boy looked down at his girlfriend then sniggered.

“Told you he’d be a laugh didn’t I?” He strode over, picked his knife out of the ground and wiped the dirt off the blade onto his jeans. Arthur raised the stick again; the boy didn’t even look up. The girl chuckled beneath him, then rolled away, stood up and brushed the leaves and dirt off her track suit bottoms. She limped over, kissed the boy who pushed her behind her.

“My legs hurt like a bastard, Adrian.”

He whirled around, “I said no names you dumb bitch.”

Arthur lowered his arm, unsure of what to do.

There was something growling in the undergrowth behind the tree stump. Oh great, his dog was coming back to save him.

“No more games mister. Throw me your stick.”

The two boys had returned, they each had an armful of rocks. The girl picked one and threw it in the air and caught it.

“Give him a countdown, Adrian; I want to see if I can break his nose.”

“I said no fucking names.” he said through clenched teeth.

She pouted. “We’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t remember, then.”

That was the last straw; he’d had enough of these playground games. So the boy was eager for violence? Well that was fine by him. Arthur placed his walking stick on the ground.

He marched up to him and backhanded the boy, the knife sailed through the air. The boy fell into the arms of his girl who failed to catch him. The two boys dropped their cache of stones and ran. A big black bruise was already showing on the boy’s cheek.

Arthur guessed that judging by the disbelief showing on the boys face that he’d never been hit by an old man before.

“You don’t look so hard now little boy. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

The boy stared at him, contempt still evident in his eyes. He then spat at Arthur. The old man shook his head.

“Whatever.”

He tried to sneer at him then his eyes flicked to something behind Arthur.

“No fucking way…” His voice was a whisper. Adrian scrambled onto his feet then followed his girlfriend who had fled seconds before.

Arthur took two ragged breaths and shut his eyes. Perhaps his son should have bought him a Taser for his birthday instead. Good lord, he felt like he’d just been mauled by a pack of wild animals. He was surprised that he felt no guilt about hitting that boy but he knew that he’d have to report this before those little bastards told someone their distorted version.

Angus was sniffling and growling, it sounded like he’d found a large branch to kill. He’d pick Angus up and make his way to the exit. Arthur turned around, opened his eyes and saw why the other kids had run off.

Angus had dug up the mutilated corpse of a naked boy and had dragged it back to show his master. One leg and his ears were missing. Arthur staggered back, tripping up over the tree-stump and hitting his head on an exposed root when he hit the floor. He welcomed the darkness with open arms.

Chapter Six

The old plaster tumbled through the air before landing in a puddle of stale lager leaking out from a squashed can. The fat grey pigeon didn’t seem to mind that its dubious prize had just acquired a new flavour. It waddled past the can and picked up the disgusting plaster in its beak. The pigeon’s companion wasn’t impressed. It didn’t go for the plaster; instead it attacked the other pigeon by pecking the back of its head.

Damien thought Tony was going to choke on his Frappuccino.

“Do you want to put a bet on who wins?”

Tony stared at him, his top lip covered in coffee froth. “Ok, I’ll put a tenner on the mutant.”

“What?”

He pointed at the scruffy little pigeon, ripping down and feathers out of the other one.

“It’s only got one leg.”

Damien hadn’t noticed. “Whatever, prepare to lose cash.”

He picked up a cigarette end out of the ashtray on the table and threw it in the general direction of the scrapping pigeons. It smacked the one with the missing leg on the side of its wing and they both flew off. The cigarette landed in the pool of lager. Damien took another sip of his drink laughing at the surprise showing on his friends face.

“You owe me a tenner, buddy.”

“Not fair, you never said anything about the use of weapons of mass destruction. That poor pigeon will be in therapy for months now.”

As much as Damien wanted to continue this bullshit conversation, he knew he’d have to tell him sooner or later. It would have to be sooner. She had only gone to get a top up. Then there was the business with Alan, Christ, and talk about a double whammy. Damien dipped his finger into his drink and flicked it at Tony.

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

“You’re really a woman and you want my babies?”

“Shut up you idiot, I’m serious.”

“So am I, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

Damien dipped his finger back into his drink.

“I’ll flick you again if you don’t behave.” He glanced towards the coffee shop, Jen was still getting served, and she’d be back in a few minutes. He had no idea what she was planning to do with this lad who attacked her, she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t pursue the conversation; Jennifer had given him that look. He just hoped she knew what she was doing.

“Do you trust me?”

“About as far as I can throw you Damien. Are you going to tell me why you look like you’ve just shit yourself?”

“Jen’s found something out. A lad from London has moved up here. Jen knew him, he’s bad news.” Oh crap, this was harder than he thought. Well, enough with this pussy footing around, he’d have to tell him straight.

“He’s worse than bad news, Tony and she ordered me not to tell you the truth.”

Tony was nodding; he laid his hand over Damien’s.

“I know.”

Jennifer pushed open the glass door with her back while balancing three cups in her hands, another few moments and she’d be at the table.

“I’m not an idiot, Damien. Do you really think that I didn’t know what that fucking animal tried to do to my little sister?”

Tony tightened his grip, his hand was going numb. The huge man sitting in front of him, crushing his bones together seemed like a stranger. Where did that amiable, good humoured bloke he’d known for over two years go?

He fixed Damien with a look that made him feel like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Plans are in place for that dirty little cunt.”

Jennifer was almost at the table, she was struggling with the cups.

“You’ve played the concerned boyfriend part well. Now forget about it”. He let his hand go. Damien snatched it back and hid it under the table. Tony went back to his drink, his eyes never leaving his sister.

“We keep this conversation between ourselves, Damien. I know Jen is a tough kid but there is no way she’ll be able to handle him.”

Damien just nodded, he felt incapable of speech.

She put the cups down almost dropping them. “Thanks for the help guys. I’m not your slave, you know.”

“Of course you are,” said Tony. “You’re a woman aren’t you?”

Damien couldn’t even raise a smile. She poked her brother in the ribs. “Your mum would slap you silly if she heard you talking about womankind like that.”

“We would have helped you, but we couldn’t leave the table, we had a bet on didn’t we Damien?”

Damien nodded. “We placed a bet on two pigeons having a fight.” He said, hoping the quiver wasn’t noticeable in his voice.

“I won.” Tony poked his tongue out at Damien.

Damien was too tired to work out how this was going to affect his relationship with Jen. He’d always considered the Patterson family to be normal, well, more normal than his, anyway. Now he discovered that their talent for deceiving each other, and now him, had been honed to a fine point. Did she really love him or was she lying about that too?

“That’s horrible,” she said. “You should have stopped them instead of putting money on who won.”

For one moment, Damien didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, until something wet splattered against his nose.

“Hello? Earth to Damien.”

Tony’s finger was wet. The froth dripped Damien’s his nose and onto the table. He nearly stood up and went home; all he wanted was a normal life. Was that too much to ask? He gazed at Jen then at Tony, maybe this was what normality really was. How would he know the difference anyway, not now, not after his own brother had sent him into the fucking twilight zone this morning?

“Are you ok?” asked Jennifer.

Damien nodded, “Yeah, just a little tired.”

“Are you still having those bad dreams?”

“I had another one last night.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent nights sleep. He needed to shut his eyes and know he wouldn’t be waking up in the morning screaming, his body covered in cold sweat. He wondered if beer would help, he hadn’t tried that yet. Damien had a better idea; fuck the beer, he should get something stronger. In fact, he wanted to get plastered right now and after the events this morning, buying a large bottle of Jack Daniels and disappearing down the woods alone for a few hours sounded like bliss. He heard Jen bollocking her brother and threatening to call the RSPB and wondered if it wasn’t too late.

“Are we still going to the pictures tonight?”

Damien turned to Jen and shrugged. He’d love to go to the flicks; he might even get an hour’s kip.

“What’s the point?” said Tony. “There’s nothing on.”

“I thought you guys wanted to see that new Rambo film?”

“It finished yesterday.” Tony stared at Damien, “We couldn’t go cos he had to go home to wipe his spazzy brother’s shitty arse.”

Jen stared at him in shocked disbelief. “Jesus Tony, you can’t say that”

“Why’s that then sis?” he sneered. “Fancy a kinky threesome do you? Your loser boyfriend kneels in front of you while the spastic is busy filling one of your other holes?”

Damien stood up, “You’d better fucking take that back Tony!”

“Sit down bitch, before I throw you down.”

Jennifer got to her feet, grabbed Damien’s hand and pulled him away. She was sobbing. Tony then seemed to undergo a transformation, his eyes cleared and the sneering mask fell off to be replaced by one of fear and confusion.

“Guys?” he said before his head crashed onto the table.

Jennifer was still trying to pull Damien away, he remembered what Alan said to him this morning about people about to change and not to blame them. He took a deep breath and dragged her back to the table.

Tony saw the tears in Jen’s eyes. “Oh Christ. Not again, I didn’t hurt anyone this time did I? Please don’t tell me I hurt someone…”

Damien shook his head. The distress engraved on his friend’s face was tangible. Despite his size, Tony was one of the kindest people he had known. In the two years he had been his friend he had only seen him raise his voice once.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said. “I think I need to throw up.”

Damien watched him stagger over to the café door then felt Jennifer’s hand find his, and he winced. She saw the bruises. “Did he do that?”

Damien nodded.

“He’s scaring me Damien. He hasn’t been the same since he found that necklace.”

Damien watched him barge through the coffee shop door. He hadn’t noticed anything around Tony’s neck.

“He told me he found it this morning before I set off to pick up the dog food. It was lying on a bench in the park; he assumed that this tramp must have left it, because one left the park just as he entered.”

“He put it around his neck after some vagrant had his dirty paws on it?”

She nodded. “That’s what I said but he took no notice. Do you know what is most strange?”

“You mean apart from this whole day?”

“He lost one just like it six years ago, that one once belonged to our aunt, it was very valuable.”

“Just how alike are these necklaces?”

“I couldn’t tell the difference.”

He didn’t know what to make of that so he kept his mouth shut. He looked over to see if he could see Tony and just happened to follow a couple of pigeons flying up to the roof. They had trouble finding a clear spot to land. Damien had never seen so many pigeons.

“So what happened the first time?”

“He tried to kill the postman.”

“Oh shit”

“Have you seen the one with the long blonde hair? He wears blue glasses.”

He nodded. The man was an arse. He insisted on calling everyone ‘ducks’ and banged on folks doors like he was a policeman.

“I was in the back, feeding the dogs. I didn’t hear the doorbell go but I did hear Tony thundering down the stairs shouting ‘I’ll get it’ I didn’t think much more about it and went back to sorting the dogs out. The next thing I hear is a scream followed by lots of shouting. When I got there, the postman was sat on the lawn, his hands clamped against his nose and blood all over the place. He was telling the world that he was going to call the police. Dad had Tony in a bear hug trying to calm him down.”

“Jesus.”

“I saw Tony go limp in dad’s arms, he was shaking and crying. That postman wouldn’t shut up about being assaulted, not that anyone was listening. Dad put Tony on the floor then ordered me to get some water. Before I did though I saw our neighbour stride up to the fence and told the postman to shut his gob, says it’s about time someone bopped you one, knocking on folk’s door at all hours of the morning. When I got back, the postman had buggered off and Tony was sat up asking dad what had happened.”

Damien was beginning to suspect that Alan’s down right odd comments this morning might not be as fantastic as he first thought.

“We need to get him to a doctor.” He had this mental image of Tony walking into the doctor’s office and seeing Alan sat there holding up a glass of piss coloured water.

“Dad’s already sorted it but it won’t be until Monday now.”

The pigeons were now joined by sparrows and starlings.

“We need to keep an eye on him then over the weekend,” he said. “Tell you what, why don’t we grab a DVD, order a take out and crash at Tony’s flat tonight. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Jen bit the bottom off her lip. He knew what was coming next, what about his brother? Damien’s very own dead albatross.

“Just the three of us?” she asked.

Damien sighed and looked at his feet.

“You’ve forgotten about him haven’t you? Don’t worry about it; I’m sure we’ll sort something out.”

Damien looked at her and grinned, “It was his suggestion.”

“Honest? Is that what he said?”

Alan’s actual words were – you need to be away from me tonight as I won’t be able to protect you from the monsters but he didn’t intended to tell her that. His eye caught the sight of something bright yellow above him, this couldn’t be right.

What the hell was going on? That was a bloody budgie up there, perched on a drainpipe in between two starlings.  He was sure that the little bird should have been pecked to death by now.

“Am I boring you?”

Damien tore his eyes off the birds and faced Jennifer, trying not to look so guilty.

“Sorry” he said, “It’s just that I’ve never seen so many birds round here before.”

She glanced up. “So there’s a few birds on the roofs, so what? It’s a nice day.”

Tony pushed his way through the door; he stopped and waved at them then threw himself to the floor as half a dozen pigeons flew past him. The birds rocketed up and landed on the already overcrowded roof of the café. All the rooftops around them were full of pigeons, starlings and sparrows with more birds joining them from the street. A crowd of starlings outside the fish shop fighting over a discarded chip took to the air.

“What the fucking hell is going on?” cried Jennifer.

Damien bit his tongue to stop himself telling her that it’s a nice day, what did she expect? Alan had told him that there would be signs. He was finding what little scepticism he had left fading away to almost nothing.

Without warning, all the birds flew down and returned to what they were doing. Damien saw the pigeon with one leg had the plaster in its beak and was hopping under their table.

Tony stood next to Damien, he held out his hand.

“Mates?”

“Only if you promise not to try and crush my hand again.” He replied.

Tony looked like he was about to burst into tears. Damien thrust his hand into his and shook it.

“I’m sorry Damien. I don’t know what came over me just then. Tell you what; let’s say we finish your conversation where they sell proper drinks, like in a pub, I’ll get them in. Call it my treat.”

“But it’s only half eleven, nothing will be open yet,” said Jennifer.

“The Rose and Crown opens early on a Saturday. I’ve been in a few times, decent beer, upholstery not ripped. What do you say?”

Damien nodded. “Ok, but I’m warning you, no funny stuff. You’re not my type.”

He looked at Jennifer. “Besides, I’m almost married.”

Tony laughed. “No funny stuff, I promise. Now let’s get to that pub before those birds dive bomb me again.”

Chapter Seven

The owner of that new café had ordered him to leave a few moments ago. Apparently, his appearance and foul odour were scaring her customers away. The bitch had said that out loud! Ernest had left before she had time to reach for her sweeping brush. That horrible woman would get her just reward for treating him like scum, they all would. Just like that mother over there, her arms around the shoulders of her brats, leading them away from the swings. He saw the look she gave him. He wasn’t blind.

He didn’t scare anyone away, they were disgusted with him. Well fuck them. By this time tomorrow, nobody in Holburn would be bothered about a scruffy little tramp messing up their pretty little town. The ones who survived the transformation would be running for their lives, from their changed neighbours. A delicious thrill travelled down his spine. Ernest couldn’t wait.

A pigeon with some rubbish in its beak hopped past his bench; he aimed a kick at it but the bloody thing didn’t even register he was there. It just carried on, hopping towards the mother who was now feeding her brats sandwiches from a plastic box. She looked up every so often just to make sure he wasn’t running over to rape her and kill her kids. She was looking now so he gave the bitch the one finger. The pigeon stopped by one of the kids, put the crap it had in its beak down beside it and looked up. One of her kids giggled and threw a piece of bread towards it.

His stomach rumbled, he’d forgotten the last time he’d had food, maybe he could scrounge some chips off the owner of the fish shop. She used to be quite friendly with him back when they were kids. He stood up, and the woman jumped when he started to walk towards them’ he sniggered then changed direction and headed back to the high street, he hoped she still owned the fish shop; if she had sold the business then he guessed he’d have to have a go at begging for money again.

Ernest couldn’t believe just how much his home town had altered in the last six years. Take that new café, for a start. How long had that been there? He shook his head, not that it mattered.

Everything in Holburn would be changed forever in a few hours.

He walked up to the large iron park gates, at least they were still the same, and he grabbed one of the pitted bars and hesitated. There was something wrong, somebody close by wanted him dead. A stone pinged off the gate by his hand; the second one smacked into his overcoat, the material was thick so he didn’t feel the impact. Ernest could not believe it. He walked back into the park, intending to calm her down.

The woman was ranting like a wild harpy and calling him all sorts of nasty names, in front of her kids as well, not that they cared. They were too busy fighting over the controls of a handheld video game. She threw another stone, this one nicked his ear. He looked around hoping they were alone, he was going to have to deal with this woman as soon as possible. She was causing a scene. One thing that generated a crowd more than anything was a scene.

She just stood there, her arms planted on her hips, giving him a look like he was something she had just trod in. Her kids were now running down the field behind her, football in arm. The video game sat on the bench forgotten. The woman wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her kids. Her attention was focused on him. Ernest slowed down and stopped by the swings. She bared her teeth in a snarl of rage; this woman wasn’t going to back down. He knew she had one more stone in her hand and waited for the bitch to throw it before he moved in and finished this. Her kids were now at the bottom of the field kicking a football about; with luck they wouldn’t even notice their mummy was no longer functioning.

Ernest looked behind him to make sure they were still alone. When he turned back, the stone bounced off his nose; the sharp pain ricocheted through his head. That fucking hurt! She squealed in triumph then dropped to the floor, scrabbling about in the loose dirt and broken glass searching for more stones.

There was no way that he was going to let her throw another stone. Ernest charged in and launched his heavy work boot into her side. From the shock registering on her face, she hadn’t expected him to retaliate. Did she really think he would slink away? Or cower in a corner while she pelted him with stones. He booted her again this time in the face, her cheek almost collapsed inwards from the force. The tramp stood back, panting. Her kids were too busy playing to notice their mum was now close to the end of her life. He rolled her on her back and sat on her hips. The woman was close to passing out. Ernest pondered pushing his fingers into the cheek wound, hoping the shock would bring her back just for a moment. He wanted to know why she had behaved like a wild animal. He couldn’t risk it; he felt he was running on borrowed time already, He wasn’t worried about the kids on the field, he was going to handle them but if anyone else happened to wonder into the park well, the less said about that the better.

He unbuttoned her blouse, and then removed the ceremonial blade he kept in a sheaf on his back; Ernest placed the tip in between her ribs then pushed it in, putting his weight on the handle.

He half expected the screams to start now, for her kids to start running up the field but no, they just carried on playing. He shook his head in disgust; did kids nowadays not notice anything?

He climbed off the body but not before removing his blade, he’d need that tomorrow.

Why did she suddenly start acting all weird? It was going to bug him all day now; He picked up the video game and took the cartridge out of the back. The front showed a couple of cartoon turtles beating the shit out of each other. He didn’t have a clue who they were but that didn’t matter, as long as the kids recognised them. Ernest sat on the bench and rested his knife beside him.

He heard the kids shouting and running up the field, he smiled. Now they noticed. The two boys stopped at the edge of the field. He doubted that they would attack him and even if they did, so what? He could handle a couple of grieving kiddies, plus he had the knife. The youngest one dropped his football and threw himself at his mother’s body, sobbing and wailing into her hair.

The eldest kid didn’t move; he stared at the tramp, his eyes burning with hatred. If that was all the boy was capable of doing then that suited the tramp down to the ground, he was used to people hating him, but just to be sure; he picked up his knife and waved it in front of the boy. He started to wipe it clean then had a better idea. He brought the knife up to his mouth and licked the blood off both sides of the blade then grinned, showing off his blackened, blood stained teeth.

The boy didn’t even fucking move. Wasn’t he gross enough for it to register? That so pissed him off. He could have at least thrown himself at him or at least break down into floods of tears.

He put his hand in his pocket and brought out two little pieces of flattened metal squares, looked at the picture on the cartridge one more time, then closed his eyes. He concentrated, feeling the metal flow into their new shapes. Ernest opened his hands, looking at the two little chains with a cartoon turtle as a pendent. He smiled then threw them at the boy.

In dream-like slow motion, the boy placed one of the necklaces over his head. The fires burning in his eyes went out. In another few minutes, the boy would be able to explain to the next passer-by why he had killed his own mother.

The tramp walked back towards the iron gates without looking back. He hoped he’d still be able to get to the fish shop before it closed; he was starving.

Chapter Eight

Alan sensed he had almost reached his goal. He had been tracking the ambiguities in the game’s background for almost twenty minutes now. The designers had left half a dozen back door routes hidden in the code but only one would lead to the alternate ending. This was the seventh game he had played from the same software developers and he knew what a devious set of snakes they were. He moved the control stick left then down to avoid the mutant hyena disembowelling him. He spied a save disc icon hidden in the jungle and managed to reach it before the mutant hyena’s pals could turn him into flesh confetti. With his progress saved, he put the controller down and flexed his fingers.

His mother had bought him this game this afternoon as a reward for not freaking out when she told him his brother had rung up and informed them that he was staying out at Tony’s flat tonight.

He had put on a suitable show of course, but didn’t milk it too much as he wanted her to buy him this game. She expected him to start kicking off every time he didn’t get his way. Sometimes he thought that she revelled in having an emotionally disturbed twenty four year old man in the house.

His mother had always been a little domineering and maternal and she had gotten worse when his father had left her for someone else who wasn’t going to treat him like a naughty schoolboy every time he got in from work. Finding out that her eldest son had been found tied in a hessian sack in Holburn woods next to the mutilated corpse of one of his friends was like a dream come true to her and after getting over the initial shock, she ploughed all her efforts into making Alan feel more comfortable.

There had been more than one occasion when he wanted to stop the charade, tell the interfering old bat to get out of his bloody hair and go to the pub. Alan stopped himself by remembering the promise he made to himself when he’d been inside that hessian sack, watching his friends die and wondering if he was next.

He never told anyone what really happened in those woods six years ago, he couldn’t. Nobody would understand.

Alan estimated that he had fifteen minutes of game time left, he wanted to finish it before putting it on his rack with the others but it would mean intense cramps in both hand for the next two days. He could have completed the game within a few minutes if he had been brave enough to play it without his gloves but he’d have to spend a couple of hours cleaning the controller in hot soapy water before contact and he didn’t think it would cope with the treatment.

It wasn’t watertight and besides, it would be cheating. Alan ejected the disc and put it back in its cover, then selected an old favourite from the rack. He placed it in the machine, watched the opening credits, and then shut his eyes.

Mother sat in her usual spot, the old, tatty armchair that had belonged to her grandfather. It was the only thing in the house that wasn’t immaculate. Her favourite soap was blasting out of the television but she wasn’t paying attention, her mind was elsewhere, she was wondering if she ought to go check on Alan and make sure he was alright. It worried her when he was so quiet, he took the news about Damien staying out a little too well for her liking. Perhaps she should check on him, bring him a cup of tea up and a few biscuits.

Alan opened his eyes; he stood up and ran to the door, opened it and peered down the stairs. Oh bloody hell! If she came up here, he’d never get rid of her.

“Mother?” he shouted.

She had that door at the bottom of the stairs open before he had time to close his mouth.

“Are you okay petal? “She asked, her face filled with worry. She wanted, no she needed to give him a hug. She thought all the world’s troubles could be solved with a big hug.

“Do you mind if I come downstairs and watch television with you?”

“Of course I don’t, sweetheart.”

Alan thought she now looked like a happy puppy, a big, fat happy puppy.

“Well, can you make sure the room is clean before I come down? Oh and do the kitchen as well.” He shut his door before she could respond and sat back down in front of his TV screen. The room and kitchen was already spotless, he suspected her hygiene problem was worse than his but she’d still get the Hoover and dust cloth out. That should keep her busy for an hour at least.

Getting inside somebody’s head was a piece of cake as long as they were in close proximity, doing it at a distance required a little preparation. His mother was singing, she must be ecstatic, he had forgotten the last time he’d sat downstairs.

Alan pushed his hand under the bed, he hated this bit, but it was the safest place in his bedroom to hide anything. His gloved fingers brushed over the leather lace and he sighed with relief; every time he did this he was expecting it to be gone. The lace was part of an old bag belonging to his mother. He pulled it out, opened the bag and shook the contents onto his bed. A signet ring and a square piece of flattened metal fell out onto the covers. Damien thought one of his ex girlfriends must have taken a fancy to it when the ring had gone missing a few months ago. As for the other object, he picked that up and held it between his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t need this to view his brother but he was going to use it anyway, despite the dangers.

He told himself that he was brave and strong, then removed his gloves. It still terrified him to have his naked hands exposed. Already he could feel the dust settling onto his naked skin. He wanted to get this over with before he lost his nerve. Alan placed each object into the palms of his hands, closed his fingers around them and shut his eyes.

He had an aubergine and was flipping it from hand to hand. Tony laughed and offered lewd suggestions. His head lifted and turned to Jennifer, she was also laughing but it was so forced, Tony was embarrassing her.

The vegetable was cool yet smooth and firm and for someone who had been forced to wear gloves for nearly six years, it felt fantastic. He willed his brother to drop it and pick up some broccoli, followed by a mushroom, but he had no influence on his movements; Alan was just an unseen ghost. He told himself to get a grip and stay focussed. He’d only have a few more moments before Damien’s spirit perceived there was another one inside and ejected him. Damien’s hands enveloped Jennifer’s.

This just wasn’t fair. If events had turned out a little different, it could really have been him in that supermarket, holding hands with her instead of receiving these second hand emotions.

“Why can’t we just order out?” That was Tony speaking.

Damien’s eyes looked into the basket he was carrying; it was full of Mediterranean vegetables and a packet of fresh chicken.

“What are you moaning at? It’s not like you’re cooking it.”

Alan struggled to get to grips with his galloping emotions and concentrated on the scene. Damien’s eyes lingered on a necklace around Tony’s neck, Alan felt the metal in his hand warm up. They headed to the checkouts.

“You’re still using my gas and electricity to cook it,” muttered Tony.

The other one had already got to one of his friends, oh this was a disaster. He had try and get them to get that necklace off him.

“Are you trying to say that I’m a shit cook?” Jennifer dropped a block of feta cheese into the basket.

“If I say yes, does that mean we can leave all this weird crap here and get a pizza instead tonight?”

The pull became stronger. It felt like he had a noose around his neck. He only had a few seconds left.

Tony grabbed Damien’s shoulders and pulled him close to his face. The basket fell from his hands and hit the tiles with a resounding crash.

“Hey Alan,” spat Tony, “Why don’t you go downstairs and say goodbye to your mum? She’ll be in the guts of a monster tomorrow.”

Damien’s spirit ejected the intruder. The last thing he saw before the scene faded was Jennifer rushing over to Tony who had collapsed into a baked bean display.

Alan’s eyes shot open, the memory of Tony’s last words still fresh on his mind; how the hell did that fucker manage to get a mechanism around Tony’s neck? And why hadn’t he thought of doing that instead of playing his stupid spy games? This wasn’t fair, Tony was supposed to be his, he was supposed to protect Damien and now that dirty tramp had gone and re-written the pissing game.

He lay in the foetal position, pressed up against the side of his bed; his mother was still involved with cleaning which was a relief, because if she had walked in here now, Alan suspected that the fat cow would have a bloody seizure. He was unable to move, stuck in this position and would be for another few minutes. After being inside Damien, his own body felt alien, like a suit three sizes too big for him and until the feeling crept back into his limbs he’d be stuck like this.

He’d come back after six years and this time he was going to be sure to finish the job. No kids were going to blunder in, not this time. The tramp was out there even now, shuffling around Holburn and spreading his poison, handing out mechanisms like sweets and recruiting his army.

Alan couldn’t even leave the house without getting panic attacks. The tramp had the pick of the town’s choicest cuts while he had to make do with whoever came to the house. He hadn’t been given a great choice from his mother’s friends.

The man who worked in the pet-shop exemplified her choice of associates. He came round to see her at least once a week, usually on a Thursday as she only had one soap to watch that day. Considerate was Pete’s middle name. Alan liked the man and was grateful for the time he spent with his mother but he wasn’t exactly the Man With No Name or the Terminator. How was he supposed to prepare an army from scrag-ends and old bone? Alan didn’t have a choice though; he had been going to start Pete’s indoctrination later this afternoon. That would now have to wait.

He cringed when the back of his neck cramped up. Pins and needles turned his hands and feet into tight balls punctured with hot spikes. This was the first sign that his spirit had at last accepted that this was his own body. He lay there, curled up tight against the foot of his bed and waited for the pain torturing his body to subside. For the first time in his life he looked forward to holding onto his mother’s oversized flower patterned dress and snuggling into her warm, dumpling like bosom.

Chapter Nine

Pete stood on the threshold of the shop, the door open wide, revealing a scene that he had dreaded happening for two decades. Someone had broken in and turned his beloved shop into an abattoir.  He walked further in, trying not to stand in the ripped opened bags of bird seed and stepping over the mangled mouse cages. He closed his eyes and listened for sounds of activity; surely the bastards couldn’t have killed all his animals. The only sound he could make out was his own uneven breathing.

He stood in the midst of the wreckage, tears streaming down his face, unable to understand how anybody could commit such a vile act. He stepped back and stood on something small and brittle, it felt a bit like he’d just stepped on a walnut.

The realisation of what it really was didn’t take long to sink in. Despite common sense telling him not to, he opened his eyes and watched the bloodied pulp slide off his heel and land on top of the rest of the mouse’s body. Hot bile rose in his throat; he ran out of the shop and threw up by the side of the road. He eased the door shut and leaned against the wall, letting the cool night air bring him round. Pete didn’t want a tremor in his voice when he rang for the police. How was he going to explain why he’d disturbed the crime scene?

He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone. God, his hands were shaking. He dialled the number and looked across the street. The light in the window above the tobacconist was shining out, and save for the street lights it was the only light still on.

The shop belonged to Dave Chambers, an old friend of his. He lived above his shop and it was him who had phoned him earlier, telling him that he thought someone was in his shop. He looked at the splintered wooden door and the two hardened steel security bars bent out of shape and shuddered.

This wasn’t the work of teenage thugs from the local school.

Why the hell weren’t they answering? For crying out loud, this was Holburn, just how busy could the coppers be at this time? Come to think of it, they should have gotten here before him. He doubted Dave would have just rung him and not then called the police.

He let it ring for another minute then put his phone back. This was unbelievable, since when did the police not answer their phones? They were supposed to be the emergency services.

Pete didn’t know what to do. He had no intention of going back in there, not by himself. Where was Dave? Like the police, he should have been here as well. He looked up and down the deserted high street and then back at the window above the shop. He could just pop over and ask him if he’d had more luck in contacting the police, he supposed, maybe he got a good look at the intruders.

He ran over the road, still puzzled as to why the street was empty. Even the two pubs were shut and barred. It may have been past midnight, but he knew for a fact that the lights should still be on. It was an open secret that the pubs in Holburn didn’t officially close until past three.

He tried Dave’s shop door first before deciding to go round the back. As he walked along the cobbled passageway that separated Dave ‘s shop and the hairdressers he had the feeling that someone or something was keeping a very close eye on him; he blamed the feeling on finding out that some bastard had just stamped all over his livelihood, but it didn’t make the mood go away.

A high wooden fence enclosed the back of Dave’s shop. It had already been covered in graffiti and crude drawings despite only being up for a couple of weeks. The padlock on the gate was still locked, but Dave had given him the combination about five minutes after the builders had finished. As far as he knew, he was the only one Dave trusted. He tapped on the fence panels as he walked past, wondering just how secure Dave’s property was.

He inserted the correct numbers into the keypad and waited for the machine to recognise the sequence. Pete heard frantic sniffing at the base of the gate. He assumed it to be Dave’s dog. He’d bought him off Pete a few years ago, a cute little black and white terrier puppy. Dave was convinced that he would be able to train it to be some sort of killer guard dog. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was no way that puppy would become his killer dog. Besides, he had needed the money.

“Casper?”

No answer, that was weird. The dog knew his voice; it should’ve been jumping against the gate and yapping by now. As the LED on the security box changed to green, something banged against the frame.

Pete jumped back, No way was that Casper. He thought the gate was going to fly off its hinges. He heard a deep growl then the receding sound of claws clicking on concrete. He kept telling himself that it had to be Casper; Dave didn’t have any other animals. So why did it sound like a bloody lion?

The green light was flashing now, he only had a few more seconds to open the gate before the system locked him out and the house alarm started to shriek. Pete was acting like a scared old woman again. Of course it was Casper; if Dave had bought another dog, he would have told him. He lifted the handle and pushed the gate open.

In the past few weeks, his friend had spent a fortune on upping the security for his shop. Pete suspected that the tobacconist was now better protected than the local bank. Dave always found something else to talk about whenever Pete brought the subject up.

Knowing all this, he should have felt secure and able to relax, yet when the gate swung shut and locked, Pete almost shrieked and wanted to get the fuck out of there.

Jesus; the feeling wasn’t diminishing this time, in fact, it was getting worse. He ran over to the back door, skirting past the overturned mop bucket, almost slipping in the soapy water spilling from the bucket. He pressed his back to the wall, closed his eyes and tried to count to ten.

There was nothing there, Pete was alone. He got to five before his eyes shot open, convinced that there was somebody standing over him. Telling himself that he was acting like a stupid little girl wasn’t washing anymore; he knew there was something wrong here. He needed a weapon; the only thing close by was the mop, but someone had got to it before him, it had been snapped in half.

Pete picked up the wooden pole and pointed the splintered spike towards the door. That feeling of being watched just wasn’t going away, it was driving him mental. He jabbed the end of the mop against the door, ready to strike at anyone who may have been ready to jump out. The door eased open revealing just a normal kitchen, there was nobody there. The anticlimax swept through his body, he almost laughed out loud, wondering what the hell had got into him, yet he didn’t drop the stick.

“Dave!” he hollered. “Are you in there?” He considered shouting again but decided that bold action was the next best step. He looked at his watch and found he’d been here for nearly half an hour. Christ! He thought he was only going to be five minutes. He still hadn’t heard any sirens. He hadn’t heard anything. Pete walked into Dave’s kitchen wondering why it was so clean. For the first time ever, the sink wasn’t overflowing with dirty plates. He’d even shifted the overflowing ashtrays, pizza boxes and various other crap that fought for space on the surfaces. Even the cooker had been scraped clean. This sudden and unexpected level of cleanliness shocked him more than finding his shop had been violated. The kitchen hadn’t been this clean since his wife had passed away. Good lord, had the old bastard got a girlfriend?

Then he saw the bloodied handprint halfway up the fridge door.

He dropped to the floor, mop handle ready to thrust at anything charging towards him. He peeked around the cooker, seeing nothing. He cursed himself for being so noisy and for not listening to his instincts. The only thing moving was a line of tiny black ants walking up the corner of the fridge door heading for that handprint. He hated ants; horrible, loathsome things that they were. He checked round the corner once more then stood up, grabbed a bottle of multi surface cleaner, dropped down again and gave the little bastards a good dose.

The only thing that made sense was that whoever broke into his shop must have seen Dave watching him. If that was the case then poor Dave may now be in the same state as his pet shop.

Oh crap, here he was hiding behind a pissing cooker and his friend could be dying. Pete stood up and rushed through the kitchen and into Dave’s living room, mop handle held above him.

His bravado left him as soon as he found the room empty. Save for the absence of Dave, his living room looked as it always did, clean and sparse. He found it a little odd how he kept all his rooms in the house so spotless yet the kitchen had always been a complete shithole, until now that was.

He spotted half a cigarette left in an ashtray on his coffee table. The tip was still alight so he couldn’t have gone that far. The cup behind it was still half full; he touched the side, still warm. Where the bloody hell was he? And that handprint on the fridge, who did it belong to? Pete hurried over to the door leading upstairs, it was wide open. He peeked up.

“Dave? Are you up there?”  He put his hand on the banister, intending to go up, then snatched it back. There was another bloody handprint there and he’d put his hand straight in it.

“Dave?” he shouted. “For crying out loud mate, are you up there?” His bravery only went so far and it did not stretch to going up those stairs. A deep low noise emanating from above answered his call. That sounded like an elephant or at least something the size of one, he looked at the blood on his hand and then back up the stairs.

“I’m sorry Dave,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. I’m not the…”

The room above him shook, chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling, covering the carpet and his head and shoulders in grey dust; he reached out and grabbed one of Dave’s coat’s to balance himself. His mouth dried up.

Pete was rooted to the carpet, the bones in his legs had transformed to soft clay. The door at the top of the stairs exploded, sending wood splinters hurtling down the stairs.

Hundreds of tiny, blue tendrils felt their way along the wall at the top of the stairs, searching and probing. He somehow knew what they were looking for. Flesh; they sensed the blood stain on the wooden banister and slivered en mass towards it. Pete’s paralysis broke. He dropped his pathetic weapon and charged out of the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen slamming the door behind him. Pete rested his head against the door trying not to imagine what his fate would have been if he had climbed those stairs.

“Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a pet shop man.” The sound of his own voice startled the hell out of him. Now he was talking to himself. Maybe he was going mental, just like Margaret’s eldest lad. Pete was insane and all this was an illusion or some deranged dream. He lifted his head off the door watching his sweat trickle down the wood. That looked real.

A herd of rhinos rampaged across the room above him. He could accept that he was ready for the funny farm but there was no way in hell that he was going back to those stairs again. That thing up there was real, no doubt about that. The wet patch in his boxers was all the evidence he needed. He wiped the rest of the sweat off his forehead then took one more step back, he had difficulty taking his eyes off the door, expecting it the break apart at any moment, and he took another step back and slipped on something wet. His feet almost gave out. He grabbed the work surface to steady him then looked down.

The floor tiles were streaked with blood and shit. He saw something move out of the corner of his eye; he jerked up and spotted what looked like a pair of black and white furry legs being dragged into the yard. That was Casper. Oh the poor little sod. Something must have attacked him and dragged the carcass outside to finish it off. The dog’s insides were now outside and he was standing in them.

Years of cleaning up after countless animals had toughened his constitution but the kitchen floor was just swimming in the stuff, even he could feel his stomach turning. It looked like an abattoir floor.

Why didn’t it smell? The stench from the shit alone should have been strong enough to singe his nostril hairs. Pete couldn’t explain why he was even asking that question. It didn’t matter. What should concern him was whatever had attacked the dog had taken it outside to eat, cutting off his escape route. He looked out of the window hoping to see it but only saw his own twisted reflection gazing back at him.

He couldn’t go out there, not without a weapon, he wished he had kept the splintered stick now. Apart from a butter knife in the sink, he could see nothing else. He made a grab for the knife then kicked himself for being so stupid. Pete opened the cutlery drawer and picked out Dave’s soft-grip, self-sharpening carving knife. It was a poor substitute for the pointy stick he’d lost but it was better than nothing.

Holding the knife out in front of him, he picked his way through the mess and looked out into the yard expecting to see his imaginary lion holding Casper in its jaws.

The thing gazing back at him, the kitchen light reflecting it its milky eyes, wasn’t a lion or anything else he had seen or imagined. The creature was a total abomination.

It looked like a giant rat’s foetus. It looked like Dr. Frankenstein had worked on it with a chainsaw. He saw the tartan collar stretched around its shiny neck. The thing in front of him was Dave’s dog, oh God, it looked like it wanted him to pet it.

Seeing that it wasn’t going to be fussed over, it went back to lapping up the mop water. As it drank, bubbly, red foam seeped out of the deep lacerations down the creature’s back.

It licked that flagstone dry and moved off to the next puddle, dragging its mangled hind legs behind it. He reckoned that Casper - or whatever the hell it was now, had gotten a little too close to those tendrils.

The thought of how close he had been to being caught urged him to get a move on. Pete stepped out into the yard, still holding the knife out in front of him. He doubted that the creature would attack him but he wasn’t going to take the risk. He approached it with caution. It seemed to be too concerned with drinking the spilt water than him getting closer to it. As he stepped over the mutated animal’s back, the house shook. He felt the vibration going through his body. The creature looked at him then back at the house before starting to squeal, it crawled out from under him and headed for the other side of the yard.

Pete knew what was happening, the creature couldn’t get down the stairs so it came through the ceiling instead. He watched in horror as the kitchen changed colour from white to bright blue and when the first tendril emerged from the open doorway he turned tail and ran to the gate.

Getting out was far easier than getting in. it was just a matter of pushing the button embedded into the door frame and turning the handle at the same time but his hands were shaking so much, he couldn’t keep his finger on the button before turning the handle.

The blue tendrils slid along the flagstones and coiled around Casper, cutting off the screaming. He had no idea why the dog had been targeted first unless it was to settle old scores; maybe the thing preferred mutant dog meat to human meat then again who gave a fuck. Another clump of tendrils flew out of the door, Pete knew that these would be heading for him and wrapping around his body and turning him into a big bundle of blue string.

Pete head-butted the gate and the sudden pain brought his hand under control. He pressed the button and pulled open the gate. As he left the yard, one tendril wrapped around his ankle, tripping him up and he fell onto the cobbles, dropping his knife. He watched it bounce on the cobbles before falling down a drain. Another tendril joined the first one, Pete twisted onto his back and stretched out and pushed his fingers through the rusted wire mesh opposite Dave’s fence. He held on tight and tried to get his other hand into the fence as well. The large clump of tendrils had almost reached his feet. If that stuff got him as well, then he was dead.

The two holding him felt like they were pulling his leg off. He got his other hand through the fence then screamed and let both hands go. He’d grabbed a fist full of stinging nettles. The two tendrils pulled him back.

This was it, his life was over. He tried and failed to find purchase on the smooth cobbles. “I hope you choke on me you fucking bastard.” he shouted.

Then the gate swung back, cutting through the tendrils like cooked spaghetti. Pete snatched his leg back, scrambled up and hobbled away. The thing in the yard smashed into the wood, the noise sounded like a gunshot but the gate held. Pete tried to get more speed out of his legs before it learned to climb the fence. It hit the gate one more time then fell silent. Pete hoped that it had forgotten about him.

He reached the street and crossed over the road intending to get to his car and drive out of here.

Fuck the break in and fuck Dave. His immediate plans now consisted of tending to his injuries and then getting drunk. He prayed that the copious amount of alcohol would flush away the memories of tonight’s terrible events.

Pete stood in front of the car door, and then shut his eyes. His head was murdering him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had given himself concussion.

When he opened them he was standing in the pet shop, his back against the door.

“What the fucking hell is going on?” he cried.

“Pete? Pete is that you mate?”

That voice sounded familiar. He peered through the gloomy shop and could just about make out the shape of a man crouching by the till.

“Dave?”

Upon hearing his name, Dave scuttled out from his hiding place. Pete just gaped at this old man shivering in front of him and refused to believe it was the same person. Where had his rock gone? That tower of a man who had been his mentor and protector for all those years? This wreck wasn’t him.

“Did you see them?” he asked. “The snakes, hundreds of them. Big, blue snakes. I thought they were going to catch me.”

Dave’s nose was running and he didn’t seem to care. He then stared at where Pete was stood.

“You’ve got shit on your shoes. I’ve got a tissue somewhere…”

“Never mind about that!” he snapped. “What on Earth happened in here?”

He wouldn’t answer. Dave just kept staring at his feet. There was something in his hand, something white. He saw Pete looking then brought it up to his mouth and bit into it.

“I tell you.” he said, still chewing. “I’ve never been so scared in my God damned life.”

“What are you eating?”

Dave lifted his hand then unfolded his fingers displaying the body of a mouse. The head was missing.

“Want a bite?”

Pete spun around and tried to open the door. That was it; he was out of here…only the door wouldn’t move.

It wasn’t jammed. Dave had his weight against it.

“Move the hand,” he growled through his clenched teeth.

The only response he received was a light chuckle. At that moment, he knew for a fact that if he still had possession of that soft grip knife, he would have plunged it straight into Dave’s mocking mouth.

He grabbed the offending arm with both hands. Intending to shift it himself but it wouldn’t budge; he would have had an easier time moving a marble statue. He felt questing fingers stroking the back of his head.

“Hush up.” replied Dave. He grabbed Pete’s hair, pulled his head back then slammed it into the door. Pete’s world exploded. He hit the pet shop floor like a dropped sack of potatoes and then a foot pushed him over onto his back.

He assumed that the huge shadow looming over him must be Dave, yet it couldn’t be, he wasn’t that tall. Pete struggled to keep his eyes open. He needed his vision to clear; he had to see who it was.

His battered body was denying him that option, it was about to shut down, to sink him into oblivion. His battle to keep his eyes open was lost.

“Don’t make me hit you again.”

Pete jumped but refused to open his eyes, he decided that he liked it dark. Warm liquid sprayed against his face. He turned his head to one side and brought up his arms in an attempt to stop the liquid assault.

Dave had just pissed on him. The dirty, vile bastard.

“The monsters are coming, Pete. If you cringe and cower, you’ll die. The creatures you saw were amalgamations. I don’t know what their true shapes will be.”

He reached down and seized Pete’s chin.

“Prepare yourself.”

Dave arched back, threw his arms into the air and screamed. His whole body filled out. His clothes ripped apart, the shredded fabric landing at his feet. Dave’s skin stretched, tearing in places. The noises issuing from Dave’s outstretched jaw were unbelievable, Pete thrust his hands against his ears, blocking some of it out. When wet chunks of Dave’s flesh rained down on him, he screamed too.

Pete sat up in bed, the stale, cold sweat gluing his pyjamas to his shivering body. His dog, lying at the foot of his bed, looked up questioningly and chuffed once.

“You don’t want to know, buddy.”

Chapter Ten

The persistent buzzing jolted her from her light sleep into a snooze. There was a wasp in the room. Oh, crap. Jen hated wasps more than anything. Horrible, hateful things they were.

She had to get rid of it, couldn’t have it landing on her. Jen’s dozing brain assured her that she held a rolled up newspaper in her right hand so she used it the bat the menace away from her face.

The contents of her bottled, flavoured water splashed across her cheeks and the rest of it landed in her lap. She opened one eye and watched the wet patch spread over her pale jeans.

“Oh great,” she muttered. “Now I look like I’ve just pissed myself.”

She stood up, booted the bottle across the room then picked a towel out of Tony’s dirty wash basket to blot the excess off. She knew she should have picked up a drink with a sports cap.

God, she really was a dozy cow. Jen threw the towel back and examined the damage. Even in the dim light, it looked like she had a weak bladder. She flopped back down in the chair and pushed Damien onto his side in a futile attempt to stop him snoring.

Tony was going to laugh himself stupid when he saw this. Why hadn’t she brought a change of clothing?

“Jen, have you got a minute?”

She nearly fell out of her chair.

“Jesus Tony, you scared the shit out of me.”

He stood in the room, leaning against the door and trying not to smirk. He’d noticed the stain.

“Just one sarcastic word out of you and I’ll boot you into next week.”

Tony looked like he’d just been punched. “What do you take me for?” he replied, “Like I would take the rip out of my little sister just because her incontinence bag split open.”

Tony ducked when one of Damien’s shoes hurtled towards him. Damien’s coat started to buzz. Tony picked it off the hook and shook it; his phone fell out and bounced off the carpet. Jen snatched it up and slid the keypad down. Damien had twenty one missed calls from Alan.

“Gee, I wonder who’s ringing Damien up at this time.”

“There’s no need to be so sarcastic.”

“And there’s no need for you to defend him all the time.”

She sighed, switched the phone off and tucked it into Damien’s trouser pocket. Jen saw no point in waking him up just because Alan had summoned him.

“Sorry Jen. I didn’t mean that, it’s just that the lad seems to have the knack of taking centre stage even when he isn’t here.”

He was right. The relationship Alan had with his brother was beginning to grind even her down; sometimes she wondered which one she was supposed to be going out with.

“I should be the one to apologise; I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Jen wanted to smile to show him that he hadn’t hurt her feelings but she kept her gaze fixed on the back of Damien’s sleeping head, afraid that if she did look at Tony, she’d burst into tears.

“There’s a spare dressing gown in the cupboard, Jen. When you’ve sorted yourself out, come downstairs, there’s something I want to show you.”

Jen was crying before the door closed. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have just given her one night with Damien without trying to play gooseberry? What could be so important that couldn’t wait until the morning?

She got out of the chair and opened the cupboard. Alan could go fuck himself. Damien was hers tonight and after sorting Tony out she was going to come back up here and sort Damien out. She smiled and pulled out Tony’s old Doctor Who dressing gown and started to strip.

The sound of Tony’s fingers dancing across his PC keyboard greeted her as she ventured out of the bedroom. She wasn’t at all surprised to find that whatever he wanted to show her was on his computer. Tony’s world seemed to revolve around the bloody thing. She threw her wet things into his dryer and turned the dial. Tony was obsessed with hi-tech gadgets. Jen gazed up at the replica Star Wars blaster fastened to the wall and shook her head. When most folk first saw her brother, their first thought was usually bouncer or thug. Tony was the living example that appearances meant nothing.

She tried to avoid looking at the three empty pizza boxes thrown across Tony’s black marble work surface. God! That had really pissed her off. The boys took it in turns last night to guilt trip her into avoiding cooking and to order out instead, and after all that money they’d spent in the supermarket as well. She wouldn’t mind if they were the ones who were going to don the pissing aprons. What annoyed her even more was that she really enjoyed her pizza, eaten every crumb. Damien was the only one who hadn’t demolished his; he’d claimed he was too tired.

Jen peeked into the living room; her brother hadn’t noticed she was there yet. She saw that the hateful necklace was still on the coffee table, thank God for that. She’d convinced Tony to take it off after he’d gone bat-shit in the supermarket.

Jen coughed. The keyboard tapping stopped.

“Jen?” shouted Tony. “Come on, hurry up, this gets better and better.”

She padded into the living room and leaned over the back of his computer chair.

“Well, come on. Spill the beans, what’s got you so excited?”

He stood up and let her sit down then opened up another window on the PC.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” he said.

The headline screamed ‘DEAD BOY FOUND IN THE WOODS’. She scanned through the article, unsure of what she was supposed to be looking at, until she read Alan’s name.

After a moment she looked at her brother, horrified. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

He nodded. “It gets worse.”

She didn’t want to read anymore and looked away, feeling sick.

“No bloody wonder Alan’s like he is. I couldn’t imagine the terror he felt when he woke up in the woods, tied up in that sack.”

Tony didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled up another page.

“The last one is six years old.” He gazed into her eyes. “Believe me when I say that it was well hidden.”

Tony moved the mouse and pulled up another page. “Now this was uploaded just a few hours ago.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her back to face the screen. Jen read with growing horror about the dismembered body found in Holburn woods this morning.

She got out of the chair and headed for the kitchen, Tony grabbed her arm.

“Leave him be.”

She shook her head. “We’ve got to tell him.”

“No. Look, it’s nearly three in the bloody morning, there’s nothing he can do that won’t wait.”

“So what? We don’t tell him?”

Tony shrugged and tapped the monitor, “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t know anyway. It’s not like the brothers have been in a great rush to tell us is it.”

He had a good point there, come to think of it; nobody in Holburn had mentioned the incident even once. She came from London where it was the norm for neighbours to ignore each other. In Holburn, it was considered to be some sort of an evil crime if you didn’t know the comings and goings of everyone on your road. Something like this should have kept the local fishwives gossiping for decades and yet it was like everyone in the town had swept it under the carpet and forgotten about it.

She picked up Tony’s Dalek cup and passed it to him. “You had better make me a drink before I go back to bed, then.”

Chapter Eleven

Pete was so relieved when the town centre sign came into view. He relaxed his iron-like grip on his steering wheel and tried to relax.

But not too much, the last thing he needed right now was for his concentration to slip again. He turned into the supermarket car park and nudged his car into the usual space.

Once the engine was off, he put his head back and let out a deep sigh. Jesus, he was going to walk home after work today, he didn’t think he’d be able to face driving back tonight. Just how close had he been to hitting those kids? If his phone hadn’t gone off at that precise moment, he would have painted that zebra crossing crimson.

He should have stayed in bed this morning, at least tried to get some sleep, but that fucking dream just wouldn’t leave him. Good God, even the four-pack of lager he’d forced down his neck at five this morning couldn’t chase away the memories. He had spent another hour turning the spare bedroom upside down, looking for an old box of sleeping tablets that his dear ex-wife had forgotten to pick up. Christ knew what the neighbours must have thought.

He counted to three then removed both hands from the steering wheel, trying to control the shakes that wracked his body. It took another few minutes before he dared unbuckle the seatbelt and climb out of the car. Pete rested his forehead against the cool metal roof after closing the door.

He couldn’t move just yet as his poor stomach was still rolling about. He suspected the lager; he also suspected that if he’d had more than the four cans, there was a bloody good chance that he wouldn’t have stopped. He wished the fridge had been overflowing with the bloody stuff now, he may have fallen into a drunken stupor - perhaps even choked on his own vomit - but at least he wouldn’t have been in charge of a one ton killing machine this morning.

He hoped those kids were okay. He should have stopped and checked instead of driving off like a frightened rabbit.

Pete yawned, his jaw almost dislocating.

“Fantastic.” he muttered. “Just bloody fantastic. Now I’m tired.”

He hated Sunday. He never used to open on a Sunday until that tosser took over. He couldn’t see the point. Everybody in Holburn went to the local car boot sale, stormed the supermarket then finished off the day by drinking the pubs dry.

Perhaps he could catch some shut eye in the shop. He’d only had one customer all day last week; it wouldn’t take two minutes to knock up a sign saying ‘gone for dinner’ There was no chance that Mr. Andrew Grayson would show up today, that fat bastard probably wouldn’t fall out of bed until sometime this afternoon after sleeping off a night of heavy drinking and fighting.

He’d have to have something to calm his nerves first though.

Pete walked out of the car park and in the general direction of the market. Despite being shut to the public, Margaret’s café still opened on a Sunday for the traders. He didn’t think a couple of cups of her caffeine infused brown muck would stop him from his snooze.

Was his car still unlocked? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. Not that he was that worried, nobody in their right mind would want to steal that piece of crap. Even his own daughter told him to pick her up on the bus.

Still, it was his piece of crap and he’d be devastated if it went missing, so he spun around and hurried back just to be sure.

Pete ventured back into the car park, looking over at the huge supermarket building, trying to remember what time they opened on a Sunday. He was sure that they’d have something to help him sleep. Bollocks to opening up the shop. He could stay in the café till they opened then piss off back home. Now that sounded like a better idea. They’d have a poster displayed in the window specifying the opening times.

When his gaze settled on the store entrance his eyes snapped open. Oh my God!

There was someone or something, on the roof, perched on all fours staring back at him.

Jesus! What the fuck was it?  The creature’s blazing crimson eyes drilled into his head. It felt like his very soul was being sucked out of him. Pete tried to rip his gaze away, he tried to move but he was glued to the floor.

It reared back then hissed at him before leaping up onto the roof of the supermarket and disappearing. Pete blinked a few times before turning his head and spewing up over the bonnet of his car. He sank to the floor, wiping his mouth. Oh Christ, what was going on, was he still dreaming?

Lumps of brown vomit dripped off the wheel arch and splattered by his hand. Pete jerked back, meaning to get into his car and getting the fuck out of here when his body was eclipsed by a large shadow.

Pete screamed and scuttled back, his hand slipping in the warm vomit.

“Jesus, Pete! It’s me for crying out loud.” The shadow kneeled down, placing his hand on Pete’s shoulders, massaging them.

“It’s Dave. Come on man, snap out of it.”

He stared into his friend’s anxious face expecting his flesh to fall off at any moment. Dave lifted him off the floor then handed him a hanky. “Are you ok?”

Pete nodded.

“Are you sure? It looked like you went down with a bang just then; do you want me to call an ambulance?”

He shook his head, wiping his hand clean.

“You can keep the hanky.” Dave said.

Pete looked over the roof of the supermarket, fearing that it would come back at any minute. He grabbed his friend’s arm and guided him onto the high street.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee at Margaret’s.”

“What about your car?”

At this moment in time, he couldn’t give a toss about his bloody car. He hadn’t even checked to see if it was locked. He looked back at the lake of crud cooking in the morning sun and doubted anybody would what to steal that.

Pete stirred in yet another spoonful of sugar; he kept his eyes glued to the steaming brown sludge inside the chipped cup, not wishing to meet Dave’s gaze. His friend’s face had been full of questions, and knowing Dave, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had answers. He took a sip and grimaced. Even with six sugars in, it still tasted bloody horrible.

“Maybe you need more sugar?”

Pete took another sip and this time, didn’t pull a face. “It’s fine,” he lied.

Dave tapped the back of Pete’s hand. “Are you going to tell me what the matter is or do I have to beat you?”

Despite knowing Dave was joking, Pete still shuddered. Finally, he gazed into Dave’s face and attempted to pull a reassuring smile. He doubted Dave would have allowed Andrew to walk all over him; the old man opposite him was definitely a figure of authority. It’s strange how similar in build the two men were, except whereas Andrew’s screwed up features seemed to show nothing but resentment and hate, Dave’s hawkish appearance made him look stern and aloof, but he treated Pete with consideration.

“We could have gone to that new café, you know.”

Dave quickly glanced over at Margaret. Pete presumed he didn’t want her to think that he was having traitorous thoughts.

“Our Sandra took me last week, it’s a bit pricey but it tastes far better than this stuff.”

Pete drank the coffee down and slammed it on the table.

“Can you get me another one Dave?” He said, grinning, “And a couple of biscuits to take the taste away.”

Pete waited for Dave to get to the counter. “Hey, Margaret, Dave says that new place will ruin you.”

“Bollocks, I didn’t say that!”

Margaret smiled at Dave. “Take no notice deary.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “None of my regulars would go to that horrid place.”

She lifted a sugar bowl up into the air. “Their sugar is wrapped in little pieces of paper. Have you heard anything so ridiculous in your life?”

Pete dug out a large brown lump sitting in the middle of his own sugar bowl and wondered just what century Margaret thought she was living in.

Dave slopped his coffee down and threw a packet of digestives at him.

“The skin on your cheek is rotting, Dave.”

“Shut your face.” he looked back at her, who was busy wiping down her counter. “What did you go and do a thing like that for?”

“Sit down Dave. You know you love it when the pretty girls show you a good time.”

He picked up the brown sugar lump and threw it at Pete. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Pete examined his left hand; he could still feel the nettle stings from the dream.

“How’s Casper?” he blurted.

“Asleep in his bed or at least he was when I left. Why?”

“What about your kitchen?” he leaned over the table, almost knocking his cup over. “Have you cleaned it up?” he whispered.

“What? Look, what’s this about? Why the random questions?” Dave was getting all flustered and confused. The rising colour in his cheeks almost matched the crimson lipstick mark on his cheek. Pete sat back and opened the biscuit packet. He took a bite before continuing.

“I had a horrible nightmare last night, Dave”

Dave almost choked on his coffee; he put the cup down and tried not to smirk. “Is this what this is all about? You having a bad dream. Good Lord man, I’ve been psyching myself up for you to tell me you have a terminal disease or something!”

“You don’t get it, do you? This was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, it felt real.” He rubbed his eyes, “It feels like a true memory. I thought I was losing my mind.”

“What you need, my friend is a good night’s sleep. Believe me, pal, I know what it’s like when the sandman forgets who you are.”

He wished he hadn’t opened his bloody mouth now. He forgot that Dave had suffered from insomnia for most of his adult life. There was no way he was going to get him to understand.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. Not believing a word he was saying.

“And drinking this swamp water won’t do you any good either.” Dave stood up. “Come on, best get off now anyway. The place is filling up, I can’t hear myself think.”

Was that a joke? Apart from some scruffy tramp in the corner, the place was deserted.

The tramp doffed his hat, Pete looked away embarrassed.  He scraped back his chair and finished off his lukewarm drink.

“Now then, Ernest, don’t you go bothering my customers.”

Pete turned around and came face to face with him.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He tried to step back but the tramp had hold of his elbow. Pete looked back at Dave. He sensed something was wrong and hurried over. The tramp let his elbow go then grinned at Dave. The fetid stench escaping from his mouth almost made Pete throw up again.

“Spare some change for a cuppa guv?”

“Are you alright, Pete?”

Pete nodded. Dave turned to the tramp.

“Come on you, bugger off. Go play in the road or something.”

The tramp squeezed past Pete, in a move made to look almost sexual. “You mind the boy. He’ll be the death of you”

Pete could have sworn that his mouth didn’t move. He didn’t think the others had heard him speak.

He left the café without looking back. Dave marched over to the counter.

“Why did you let that smelly bastard in for?”

She shrugged and carried on wiping the top. Pete wondered how she hadn’t managed to rub the pattern off the counter yet.

“Who, Ernest? Oh he’s harmless enough, there’s nothing wrong in showing a bit of charity.”

Pete watched him liberate a couple of apples when he shuffled past the fruit stall, he then went back picked up a banana and ate it in front of the stall holder, he didn’t even notice.

“You can’t discriminate against people nowadays Dave, you should know that. Besides, it’s not his fault he’s fallen on hard times.”

“You make it sound like you know him.”

Margaret seemed surprised at Pete’s question. “Of course I know him and so does your friend here.”

“I’ve never seen him before in my life!” Dave snapped.

She seemed taken aback by his sudden anger. “Is your memory playing up sweetie? We all went to school together.”

“I’ve never seen him before” he repeated. He looked at Pete almost beseechingly. The lip mark was now paler than the rest of his face. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Pete hurried to catch his friend. Dave was lying, he knew the tramp, it was written all over his face.

“Hold on a minute.” he said. “I just need to stop by the shop first, it won’t take a minute.”

“What the hell for?”

He almost told him that he wanted to check to see if he hadn’t been burgled but he bit his lips. “I just want to see if the puppies are ok.” He said quickly. God, what a stupid thing to say, he didn’t even have any puppies.

Dave was too wrapped up in his own little anger bubble to spot the lie.

He stormed out of the market with Pete struggling to keep up. Oh this was getting stupid, what the bloody hell was he doing? He suspected that he was going after that tramp.

“Oi! Will you fucking wait up?” he shouted. He knew all the market traders were staring at him, he could feel their eyes on his back but he didn’t really care.

Dave did indeed stop in mid stride; he turned around and stormed over, his face bursting with repressed fury.

“Dave?”

He stopped before him; he looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel. Then his eyes seemed to lose focus and the face underwent a kaleidoscope of expressions before settling on bafflement.

“Come on then, Pete we don’t want those pups to suffer,” he said, talking as is nothing had happened.

He bent down and looked into Pete’s eyes; he tried not to cringe back.

“You still look like shit, mate.”

Dave looked both ways then crossed over the road. The chaotic and conflicting thoughts running riot through Pete’s head almost caused him to spin on his heels, run home and hide in a cupboard. Instead he followed Dave across the deserted road. Pete hurried past him and stopped by his shop’s open door. Dave looked at him.

“Should that not be locked?”

Pete was too shocked even to nod. He must be still in the pissing dream. Oh, this was so not fair.

“Fuck off, we’re not open yet!” a voice boomed from inside.

Dave looked down at his friend; his expectant face was awaiting an explanation. Pete felt like a complete tool.

“Shit, I forgot about my new helper.”

“I know that fucking voice.” Dave murmured

Pete had a quick change of plan; there was no way that he was going to allow that thug to stay in the shop by himself. He could sense Dave behind him, breathing down his neck. If these two met, Pete predicted that it would take about eight seconds before they started smacking each other.

“Look Dave, why don’t we meet up at dinner?”

“I thought you wanted to get home?”

Pete tried to look bashful as he shook his head.

“Look, can you believe I totally forgot about him? He’s new, Dave. I can’t leave him in the shop alone.”

He pushed the door open a little and slid through the gap. “I promise mate, I’ll explain at dinner.”

Pete shut the door before his friend could respond.

Chapter Twelve

He peered out of one sleep encrusted eye, his befuddled brain attempting to piece together his jumbled up recollections of last night events. Maybe somewhere in there, there would be an explanation as to why he’d just woken up in a stranger’s bed. Where the bloody hell was he?

Damien sat up and looked around the small room, then spotted some of Jennifer’s crumpled clothes lying in an untidy heap beside the bed. The memory of what she did to him last night hit Damien with the full force of a runaway express train. He fell back and hugged himself unable to stop grinning. No wonder he felt refreshed, invigorated, his batteries recharged. He rolled over onto her side wondering where she could have gone. The sheet was still warm so hadn’t gone long. Maybe she was making him a cup of tea. Or even breakfast in bed, oh god, he hoped so. How cool would that be?

His mum used to make them both breakfast in bed before Alan had his accident. Shit, why the bloody hell did he have to think about him already? Damien buried his face in Jennifer’s pillow, drinking up the aroma of her shampoo in a poor attempt to distract him from thinking about his brother. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, Damien giggled at the sight of her in that dressing gown.

“Good morning, starshine.” She bent down and kissed his head. He made a playful grab for her but she danced out of his way.

“I saw you smirk just then. If you don’t like the packaging then you can’t have the contents…”

Damien sat back up and swung his feet out of the bed, trying to calculate just how much of a struggle she’d put up if he ran over and tried to get her out of that silly dressing gown when he noticed a very odd odour lingering in the air.

He crumpled up his face. Fuck, that was horrible; it was a bit like freshly dug earth mixed with rotten eggs. Bloody hell, it was putting him off the breakfast he was about to ask her to make.

“Oh, so you’ve noticed it as well now? It’s awful, isn’t it? The reek woke me up. I’ve gone round and shut all the windows, but I just can’t seem to shift it. And can you believe there isn’t a single can of air freshener in the flat?”

“Bloody hell, it’s getting worse!” He put her pillow over his mouth.

“The smell comes and goes. Believe me, this is nothing compared to what I woke up to. God, I thought there was a rotting cow in the middle of the floor.”

“What does Tony think? Has he had this before?”

“He isn’t up yet.”

That was weird. Tony was always up with the sparrows. The Star Trek clock hung on the wall opposite him said it was past eleven. He reached for his phone, willing to risk the wrath of the evil stench for the sake of the correct time. How the hell could Jen stand it? She must have no sense of smell.

“Your phone’s in your trouser pocket,” she said. “It fell out of your coat last night.”

“Is that the correct time?”

She nodded.

“Oh crap, I wanted to be up early.”

“What for?”

He’d planned to wake up first so he could molest her but it looked like she’d got there first.

“I was going to take you for a walk in the park.”

She kissed his neck. “You are so sweet, but a shit liar.” She picked up the rest of her clothes and walked to the door.

“Get yourself dressed and come into the living room. It smells a bit better in there. I’ll pop the kettle on.”

“The aroma of cooking bacon might help to mask the smell.” He said, grinning.

“Is that a hint?”

“No. It’s a command.”

Jennifer left the room, laughing. His clothes, unlike hers, had been kicked all over the place. He found his trousers under the bed. God knows how they’d ended up there.

“Jen? How’s that bacon doing?” Silence greeted his request. He would have to teach that dirty wench some manners. He grinned to himself, knowing full well that she’d kick him into next week if he said that to her face.

He gathered up his clothes and hurried out of the room; he’d rather run the risk of Tony seeing him in his birthday suit than stay in there any longer. She was right; it did smell a little better out in the hall. It wasn’t quite the fragrant aroma of a flowering meadow but it was better than the foul stench oozing from the bedroom.

Damien turned around and watched the reflection of the sun dance off the walls while he wrestled with his trousers. There was little chance of Tony catching him with his privates hanging out, it sounded like there was a pig fight going on in there. The man could snore for his country.

He finished dressing then wandered through to the kitchen, noting that Jen hadn’t even put the kettle on never mind got the breakfast going. Damien hesitated before walking into the room. There was something about that bedroom that wasn’t quite right, apart from the horrible smell.

Jennifer had her face pressed against the window. She looked warm, the back of her neck dripped with sweat, it was almost shiny. Just like the walls.

That was it, that bedroom had no business looking so polished. Tony had decorated the entire flat in matt pastel colours when he’d first moved it. Damien left Jen to her street-watching and doubled back. This was doing his head in, he hated mysteries.

Tony still wasn’t up. How the hell he hadn’t managed to wake himself up with the noise that was coming out of his gob was beyond him. He stopped by the door, not brave enough to enter; instead he reached in and placed his hand against the wall.

He jerked his hand back and yelped in fright. What the hell? He felt like he’d just plunged his hand into a bucket of oozing slugs, his fingers now smelt rank.

Damien wiped them on the wallpaper in the hall, leaving behind streaks of slime. He watched in amazement as the slime streaks turned black. Fucking hell, it was like a new strain of super mould. He’d have to wake Tony up; he’d go mental when he saw the mess.

Something outside detonated with the force of a bomb, rattling the windows and almost bursting his eardrums.

“Damien!”

Upon hearing her panic filled bellow, he charged into the living room, hoping she was alright. Jen was still by the window; he breathed a silent sigh of relief when she appeared to be unharmed.

“Oh God! Did you see that?” She pointed at the sheets of flames in the distance. “It just blew up.”

He ran over and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m okay,” she said, gently wriggling out of his embrace. “It’s not me who’s exploded. What’s this all that about? I thought you said you don’t go for random hugs?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just me being silly.”

He wasn’t being silly, he just decided to drop the subject, and he had no intention of trying to explain what went through his mind just then. He felt like he had just lost her.

Jen brought his hand up to her face and kissed it. “You are a big pudding Damien. You know that?”

He nodded and smiled. How could he tell her that he felt like he had lost her even though she was standing in front of him?

Jen dragged him closer to the window. “Look at that!”

He could hardly miss it; great plumes of greasy smoke rose skyward. Half a dozen derelict warehouses overlooking the canal were alight, turning the sky above the blazing buildings black. He tore his eyes away from the fireball and looked around the rest of the town. From his third floor vantage point, he could see pretty much the whole of Holburn, including the fire station. Damien was waiting for the engines to come screaming out. Jen tapped him on the shoulders and pointed at a row of terraces in the next street.

“What’s he up to?” she said.

A bald man in his fifties stood in the middle of his garden wearing nothing but a dressing gown, holding a mop in both hands and hitting it against the corner of his garden shed. Damien shook his head, he didn’t have a clue. Every time the mop made contact with the shed he glanced back to his open kitchen door.

“Look at his feet.”

Damien saw that he had left a trail of bloody footprints along the path to the shed. The mop head flew off and landed in the man’s pond. He roared in triumph and headed back to the door with his splintered stick held out in front of him. Damien took his eyes off the man when he felt Jennifer trying to get into his trouser pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“We’ve got to ring the police.”

He handed over his phone, noting that it had been turned off and handed it over. He returned his attention back to the scene outside. Oh fuck! The old man’s ear was missing; he hadn’t noticed that until he’d turned around.

The man reached his kitchen, waving his stick around like he was conducting a brass band.

“I can’t get through.” he said. “There’s no signal.”

Damien was about to tell her to get Tony when a huge black paw reached out from the interior of the man’s house, fastened over the man’s head and pulled him through the door struggling and shrieking.

Jen’s head snapped up. “What the hell was that?”

Damien stood in front of the window, snatched back his phone and ushered her out of the room.

“You don’t want to know,” he said. “Go get Tony up.”

He knew what he’d seen but refused to accept that he’s just seen one of the monster from his nightmares. This was bollocks. He made sure that she had gone then rushed back to the window; he had to be seeing things. There was no sign of the man or any monster but that still didn’t explain the mop broken in two or the pool of blood spreading across the patio.

Jen was taking her time.

He’d never seen Holburn look so empty. Damien scanned the empty streets, looking for any sign of life. Even the supermarket still had their shutters down. Holburn had become a ghost town overnight.

Was this what Alan meant about the coming of the monsters? He looked at his phone, forgetting it was still in his hand. He’d had forty one missed calls from him.

Damien willed those fire station doors to open, to see the bald fellow hanging out his washing and women staggering out of the supermarket burdened with too much shopping and shouting at their kids. He didn’t want to buy into Alan’s fantasy.

“Damien?” She stood by the kitchen door, shaking.

“I can’t wake him up.” She paused. “I need you to see this.”

Damien followed her out of the living room, not looking forward to what she had found. His threshold for surprises this morning had changed from low to zero.

The smell hit him first. Not only had it gotten worse, it now overpowered everything else, Christ, his nose was on fire. Jen carried on as if it was nothing worse than the smell of cow shit on a hot summer’s day. Damien pulled his T shirt over his mouth and nose and held it in place with his hand, it wasn’t brilliant but at least he could continue without throwing up. Damien hurried to catch her and wandered into a jungle of bright green.

The walls in the hallway were now carpeted by what looked like moss. Damien stopped and stared, entranced by its splendour.  He moved his hand towards it; the overwhelming urge to stroke the stuff washed away every other desire. It looked as soft as puppy fur.

Damien screamed when his arm was yanked down. Jen pushed him into the middle of the hall and held his arms against his sides.

“Jesus, Damien, have you gone deaf? Didn’t you hear me shouting at you?”

She moved his head to face the open window in Tony’s spare room. He gasped as an endless swarm of huge insectile creatures flew through the open window. They smacked into the green fuzz and dissolved like butter dropped into a hot pan.

“That stuff on the wall must be acidic. Can you imagine what would have happened if you had touched it? Now come on, help me get my brother awake.”

Damien followed her into the bedroom. He wasn’t thinking about how close he had been; he wanted to know why it hadn’t affected her.

And since when was she suddenly unafraid of flying insects? Only yesterday, she’d run screaming out of his mother’s bedroom because she’d seen a tiny moth circling the light shade.

Damien’s eyes would not adjust to the gloom. It wasn’t this dark the last time he’d been in here. Jen’s hand found his and squeezed. Damien was so reassured by such a simple gesture.

“Go on then,” she hissed. Jennifer pushed him towards the shapeless bundle under the bed clothes. “Wake him up.”

“Why are you whispering?” Damien slapped the top of the blanket.

“Come on, mate,” he shouted. “Get your carcass out of your pit.”

A deep muffled moan was the response. It sounded like a tractor starting up.

“That’s not Tony!” the silhouette behind him cried.

No it wasn’t. Damien had lived through this scenario in his dreams.

The monsters are coming. He backed away. They needed to get out of here right now. Jen pushed past him and grabbed the edge of the blanket.

“No!”

But it was too late. She peeled back the blanket, lumps of grey and pink matter clung to both Tony and sheet like hot cheese. Jen screamed and dropped the blanket.

Tony’s eyes shot open, fixing Jennifer with a bright crimson stare.

“Are you going to give your big brother a kiss?” he gurgled.

Before Damien could react, Tony’s arm shot out from under the blanket and clamped over her wrist and dragged her closer.

As he climbed off the bed, more flesh fell off, exposing black chitinous armour underneath. Tony’s new body grew and expanded like an over inflated inner tube, forcing the last of the old flesh to fall to the floor in wet splats.

Damien rushed forward, hoping to catch the creature off guard whilst it was still undergoing its transformation. He didn’t get close. It lashed out; he flew across the room and crashed into a dressing table, feeling like he’d just been hit with a tree trunk.

Damien rolled onto his front and tried in vain to stand up, only managing to get onto his hands and knees.

Jennifer’s muffled sobs and the creature’s guttural laughs gave him the hidden strength to push back the crippling pain in his legs and focus. They would both be dead in minutes if he didn’t do something right now.

His hand skated across the surface of the dressing table, frantically searching for anything he could use as a weapon. Had Tony seen him move? He hoped not. Damien couldn’t tell anyway, his vision was still fucked from the fall. Besides, what if it had? Jen was putting up enough of a fight to stop him from thinking about swatting the insect across the room again.

His hands disregarded the DVDs, CDs and antiperspirant then stopped when they found a handle encased in leather. Damien suppressed the urge to giggle. He couldn’t believe it.

Of all the things he could have found. It must have fallen off the wall when he hit the furniture. His vision cleared a little. He saw the shape of two shapes struggling in front of him. He lifted the Klingon sword off the dresser and swung it into the largest shape.

A muffled grunt told him he’d made contact. It felt like he’d just hit a brick wall. The vibration travelled up the sword into both hands, causing him to drop the weapon. His sleeve was grabbed and he panicked. Thinking it had got him, he tried to pull his arm back.

“Come on you bloody idiot, before he gets back up!”

He allowed her to half carry him out of the bedroom. Damien tried to get his feet under control as she propelled him to the front door.

The bestial scream that erupted behind them as they turned into the kitchen persuaded him to try harder. Jen propped him up against the door.

“Shit!” she said. “Those chuffing keys aren’t in the lock. Don’t move!”

He ditched the sarcastic quip when he sensed that she had already left. From the sound of it, the thing that had burst out of Tony was now trashing the bedroom. Did it believe that it was still in there hiding? Oh God, he hoped so.

“I’ve got them.”

Heavy footsteps stomping towards them suggested that their luck had just run out.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

“Calm down, Jen. Don’t talk and don’t move.” He stood in front of her, blocking her view.

“Get that door open,” he whispered. “Take your time; make no noise or sudden moves.”

“We’re dead!”

“Believe me Jen, if we’re still it won’t see us.”

He screwed his eyes shut then opened them wide to see if the multicoloured fog he saw before him would clear but all it did was make his eyes water.

Fuck. He couldn’t even wipe them. He didn’t have a bloody clue where the thing was now and he could hardly ask Jen. By the sound of the mutters, she had enough problems of her own.

The water was really pissing out now. Christ on a bike, his fucking eyes were drowning.

“Got it!” she cried.

Damien breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. The room swam into focus revealing an eight foot tall, demonic looking nightmare charging through the kitchen and into the hallway. He spun around.

“Get that fucking door open.”

“I can’t budge it!”

It was almost on them, he felt its thudding strides through the floorboards. He looked up.

Christ! The bolt was still on! He reached over and pulled it across. Jen jerked the door wide open, the edge slammed into the creatures face. She pulled Damien through the door and ran down the first flight of stairs. The communal door leading into the street was wide open, it wouldn’t follow them outside. It hadn’t done in his dreams, anyway.

Was it behind him? He wasn’t sure and he daren’t look back, he’d lose his balance and fall down the rest of the stairs. Jen got to the door first.

“What have you stopped for?” she screamed. Her eyes flicked up.

It was on the stairs. He expected a huge armour-plated arm to reach down any moment, its talons to fold over the top of his head and pull him back up. He looked down, four more steps. He took his hand off the railing, meaning to jump down the rest and follow Jen out.

When what little strength he had left deserted him, his legs folded like a house of cards. The concrete floor rushed towards him but he was able to get his arms out in front. He crashed down the last step, knocking the wind out of himself. Jen rushed over and dragged him out into the sunlight.

The creature charged down the remaining steps and skidded to a halt by the outer door. It crouched down, opened its huge mouth and growled before retreating back inside.

What was the man in the dressing gown running from? His son or daughter maybe? Or even his wife? He imagined waking up to one of those things and shuddered. Damien turned and used Jen to drag himself up.

“We need to get to Alan,” he said.

Jennifer collapsed into his arms, nearly knocking him back onto the floor.

“Oh God, my own brother was going to rape me!”

Damien supported her out of the gate and over to the nearest bus shelter. His greatest fear now was what he would do if his own brother had turned into one of those things.

Chapter Thirteen

Just how the heck had his supposed friend managed to talk Arthur into this? He stopped by the boundary of Holburn woods and shivered. Arthur would go to hell for stealing his father’s fireworks. Even worse, if his old man ever found out then he’d cane him until Arthur’s arse bled.

He pushed the barbed wire fence down and tumbled into the woodland. His dad would definitely belt him if he found out Arthur had entered the woods. This place was supposed to be off limits. All of Holburn’s kids had been warned about going into the woods. No real explanation had been given but he’d heard that a German bomber had crashed in there just before the war ended, and the place was now littered with unexploded bombs.

He picked up a stick and bashed it against a tree, wondering just how true that story was, this was the first time he’d set foot in here.

Arthur watched a tall boy with short, jet black hair sprint toward him. His friend stopped a few feet from him and took a deep breath before he thrust both hands into the pockets of his short trousers.

“I’ve got some,” said Arthur, eager to show Dave that he hadn’t let him down. His friend hadn’t so much as threatened Arthur but there had been hints of exclusion. Did he really want to end up being hated like the new boy, Ernest?

“Let’s have a look then.”

Arthur unstrapped the satchel and showed Dave the contents. His eyes were like saucers when he gazed inside.

“It was dead easy to steal them, Dave. I bet I could get loads more too.”

Dave smiled at him, “You are such a fab mate. If this works, I may even let you join my gang.”

Arthur swelled with pride.

“The gang’s going window smashing tonight, I bet you’d like to come with us.”

Arthur nodded.

“I thought so, we’ve found out where Stinky lives.”

Arthur guessed that meant Ernest. Their family moved into Holburn a few months ago, he’d heard that Ernest’s dad was a prisoner of war in Germany. Somehow, the story got mangled by the time Dave heard it. As far as he was concerned, Ernest’s dad was a German soldier, which meant Ernest was the enemy. That meant he could do anything he wanted to the boy.

“What do you want the fireworks for?”

Dave grabbed his shirt and dragged him further into the woods, “You’ll see,” he said.

The boy led him into a clearing and found that they were no longer alone.

The tree in the middle had a rusty chain wrapped around the trunk; the other end was tied to a sheep. It didn’t even look up when the boys crashed through the foliage. The blood in his veins turned to ice. Arthur knew exactly what Dave had planned to do but before he had the chance to flee, he caught his arm and pulled Arthur back.

“The sheep has had it already,” he said. “Your dad would have chopped it up and sold the bits to folk in town anyway.”

Arthur didn’t object when he ripped the rucksack off his back nor did he run when his arm was released.

“You can’t back out now.”

Arthur just stood there, watching him jam the fireworks between the sheep’s neck and its makeshift collar. The back of his own neck was slick with sweat. His heart was being squeezed in a vice. He wasn’t going to stop him.

Dave pulled out a box of matches, pushed open the drawer and took a single match out then told him to run. Arthur’s mind did somersaults, his feet were stuck, and he couldn’t move his bleeding head. Oh no! He started to light the fireworks.

“This is going to be the biggest bang you ever heard! You’d better run Arthur; it’s going to go off like a bomb!”

A bomb! Arthur shot up in bed, his ears ringing and dripping with sweat.

“Sweet Jesus!” he exclaimed. Arthur had never experienced anything like that before; he could still feel his heart being squeezed. That was no simple dream, he felt like he really was there in those woods. He wiped his forehead, then brought his fingers close to his nose. He could still smell the bloody smoke.

Could it have been triggered by the medication? No that was bollocks; he’d refused it all, even the big pill that the patronising bitch had tried to force down his neck last night. She told him that it would help him sleep and to calm you down. That translated to, we don’t want you screaming yourself awake in the middle of the night, pissing yourself and disturbing our card game.

He swung his legs out of the bed and planted them on the cool tiles. Arthur thought he had buried that particular stain on his childhood memories years ago but the fun and games he went through yesterday must have dredged it back up again. He hadn’t thought about Dave for a long time; as far as he was aware, the grumpy old bastard still had the newsagents on the high street. It didn’t seem right that Arthur should be put out to pasture whilst Dave still played shopkeeper.

Arthur rubbed his hand down his face and pushed the dream back where it belonged. So much for the old soldier routine he’d put on when they had brought him in here. He remembered getting sick to the back teeth of hearing the endless tirade of the same sugar-coated consoling remarks gushing from all the nurses, peppered with the occasional ‘would you like a cup of tea?’

In the end he had upset one student nurse by saying that after twenty years of gutting pigs, seeing a dead kid’s body was a walk in the park.

Speaking of pigs, those two coppers were supposed to be coming back this morning. God knows why, he’d told them everything he knew yesterday. He had noticed how they’d stayed in the background until his sister Maureen had pissed off. They no doubt saw the ear bashing she had given to that porter who had brought him up to this ward.

How the hell did she get here so fast? The woman was at reception, browbeating anyone and everyone a couple of minutes after he had arrived. It hadn’t taken her long to find out where they were holding her baby brother.

Arthur blamed the strange environment, the endless questions and the confusing instructions, that was the reason why after all these years, his sister had finally managed to get one up on him.

Oh you poor thing, let those nice people look after you. A holiday will do you good. Never mind about your doggy, I’ll keep him company until you are better.

And like the fool that he was, he’d handed his house keys over.

Maureen didn’t waste much time in finding a crap excuse to leave once she had got what she came for.

Oh hell, the conniving old cow would have turned his house upside down by now. He’d kick the hag out into the gutter where she belonged when he got back. If she’d done anything to his dog then he’d throttle her.

He was missing his dog; he found it hard to believe that considering how much of a pain in the neck it was. This must be the first morning he’d woken up without the bloody thing giving his face a good wash. He chuckled at the thought of Maureen waking up with the dog’s wet tongue halfway down her tonsils. She hated dogs almost as much as she hated him.

God, it was warm. Had their heating packed up? Probably had to have it cranked up to maximum for all the old duffers on this ward. The soles of his feet were the only part of his body that weren’t sweating. He’d open a bloody window if the damn thing didn’t have child locks on them. They wouldn’t want all the senile old farts to forget that the window was open and fall out, Pointless looking, really.

He sighed. Perhaps a quick look wouldn’t hurt; anything was better than just standing here, drenched in sweat and feeling like he’d just pissed himself. He walked over to the window wishing he had something else to change into. It was getting hotter, he was sure of it.

Opening the window was not an option; the bloody thing was a sealed unit, shit. He was going to pass out if it got any hotter. Well, he couldn’t stay here, that was for God damn sure. He snatched the hospital dressing gown off the visitors chair and hurried to the door, hoping that the corridor was a bit cooler than here.

The first nurse he found was going to get both barrels. He wrenched open the door, his slick hands almost slipping off the handle and staggered out of the boiling room. The contrast in temperatures caught his breath. It was like a bloody fridge out here. Arthur threw the dressing gown over his sodden pyjamas thinking it may have been a better idea to have found his normal clothes first. There was no way he was going back in there, the place was now like a furnace, how long would it be before something in there caught fire? The place would go up like dry tinder, bloody shoddy workmanship that’s what it was.

He’d been so preoccupied in not turning into a roast joint, he hadn’t thought about what time it was, he just assumed that it was early morning.

But as Arthur walked down the deserted corridor, he began to have serious misgivings about his original estimation. He passed a discarded IV stand, complete with a full bag, leaning against a radiator. That wasn’t right; it shouldn’t have just been left here. He looked around, unsure of what to do. Maybe the nurse had run off an on urgent call, the patient who this was for must be wondering where the hell they had gone. He looked around the equipment in the vain hope that there was a name attached but there was nothing. He really should take this to the nurse’s station, if he could remember where the hell it was.

He left it on the floor, it wasn’t his problem. Somebody was bound to come back for it. He looked around the corridor. He’d seen noisier graveyards, where the hell was everybody? Even if it was like five in the morning, there should at least be somebody about. He glanced at his wrist, forgetting that he had left his watch on the dresser. Where were the wall clocks?

Arthur stopped by the door to the next room.  He tried to peer through the mottled glass and into the dark interior but could see nothing, at least the glass was cool so at whoever was in there wasn’t going to be broiled alive.

The name scrawled on the hand written plate screwed to the door was Ida Hurst. The name didn’t ring a bell.

Arthur bumped into one of his old customers last night when he eventually stumbled across the patient common room. Polly Freeman always used to buy the same meat, week in, week out. Two pounds of mince for Wednesday’s Shepherd’s pie, a bit of skirt beef to treat the old man and a bird for the Sunday roast. She was a bit of a tease back in the day, he never knew whether she fancied him or thought that flashing a bit of leg and winking would get her a larger portion.

Fifteen years later, time had not been kind to her. He hadn’t a clue at first who this strange woman was. The folk parted to let her through, she remembered him all right. Mrs. Freeman had gone to great pains to introduce him to everyone and Ida Hurst wasn’t among the crumbling wrecks glued to the communal television screen.

Arthur turned the handle and pushed Ida’s door open, feeling like some sort of pervert. If the old dear started to scream when she saw his leering face then he’d just have to turn on the old charm and either say he was in the wrong room or pretend he was a doctor. With a bit of luck the old bat would be too doped up to notice he was even there.

The curtains were drawn but enough light filtered through the material to make out a large form under the covers.

Ida Hurst sure was one large woman, not quite the little old lady he had originally imagined, that gave him an idea.

He took a couple of steps into the room and closed the door behind him, thankful to be out of that freezing corridor. It was doubtful that he would be disturbed; if it was five in the morning then the duty nurse would be either deep into her stupid romance novel or dozing. He took off his dressing gown and hung it on the door handle. The pyjamas were next; he let them fall to the floor. The old woman would have a bloody stroke if took this moment to wake up and peek out of her covers.

He heard loud slapping noises outside the room, he almost pissed himself. He ducked down under the windows, the noise of his heartbeat was sure to give him away. The lovely Ida chose this moment to groan and turn over. His head snapped to the side, Christ almighty, all he wanted to do was steal the bitch’s dressing gown.

The nurse or porter or whoever they were stopped outside the room, he snagged the dressing gown off the handle and concealed as much bare flesh as he could while running through a limited list of reasons to be in here if they did open that bloody door.

Maybe she was just stretching her legs or making her way to the common room to fetch another book. He hoped to God that the IV wasn’t for the fat cow in that bed.

A shadow fell over him. She had her hands on the glass and was tapping with a pen, at least that’s was what it sounded like. It also sounded as if the woman had a bad cold, which would explain why she was breathing like a horse.

At last she moved off, hopefully not too far, as he still needed to have a word. He hurried into his dressing gown, the rough material itched like buggery, but it was far better than feeling like he was wrapped in wet bandages.

He saw the lady’s dressing gown hung over a chair. He picked it up and held it out in front of him. This couldn’t be hers; it was tiny, like a child’s. Arthur dropped it and hurried over to the door, he glanced nervously at the huge form as he passed it.  No way was he going to look under that blanket, instinct told him to get out of there as soon as possible.

He crept into the empty corridor. For some reason, Arthur had no wish to catch up with the horse breathing nurse. Before he shut the door, Arthur looked around the darkened room, trying to see the one object that all private rooms were supposed to have, a clock.

It was on the wall opposite the bed, it looked about as old as most of the patients - plus this relic had been encased inside a steel cage, as if anybody would want to steal the bloody thing. It was just past midday.

No, that was bollocks; no way could it be that late.

He slammed the door shut, stuff the stealthy exit, if it was noon then the lazy bitch should be up anyway. He twisted open the blinds on the corridor window opposite and bright sunlight streamed through the window. The sun was high up in the sky. The unease that crept into his bones earlier now had a firm grip. No amount of self delusion could convince him that this hospital should be this bleeding quiet.

He decided to check out the common room, that clock worked for sure. Polly had pointed it out last night, she said the only reason they had clocks in every room on this level is because our age group was obsessed with time, we are too concerned with our own mortality and one more minute gone on that clock meant a minute closer to the undertaker. What a morbid cow, he always remembered her as being so cheerful.

Arthur passed a couple more rooms, both empty and both room clocks saying the same time of past twelve. In the second one, he walked over to the window and looked down onto the car park to see if he could see anyone. The only logical explanation was that they must have had a fire drill and somehow forgot to rouse him and Ida. The alarm didn’t go off because the electric must be on the blink, hence the dodgy heating in his room.

Nothing moved outside. He ran back to the door and took a deep breath.

“Hello?” he shouted. His voice echoed down the corridors. Arthur received no answer, he was alone – well, except for the lovely Ida who somehow seemed to have trebled in size since she’d last worn her dressing gown. He continued to the common room, looking in every room and seeing the same pattern, nobody about but beds slept in and patient’s possessions scattered around the rooms.

The common room was just around the corner. A tiny part of his mind was still clinging to the thought that they were all in there, watching some mind numbing crap on TV or reading through the ancient lifestyle magazines.

He remembered the first thing he saw when he’d first found the common room was an old sun-faded notice stapled to the wall requesting patrons to keep the noise down at all times. He’d looked at the assorted collection of old crocks and wondered just how much noise they could really make, hell even if they all screamed at once there still wouldn’t be enough noise to wake an insomniac baby up.

As he entered the room this time, the whole place, just like the other rooms was bereft of people. He would give anything just to hear one voice. He tore the notice off the wall and threw the damn thing onto the floor.

Oh this was just not right, not even the horse-breathing nurse was in here looking for another mushy book. She’d be spoilt for choice as all the books scattered over the coffee tables were now mushy, swollen and sodden through like they had been dropped in a bath.

He turned in a tight circle, staring slack jawed at the posters, leaflets, magazines and books. Everything made of paper was just rotting away like they had been sprayed with a corrosive chemical.

After Polly had finished bending his ear last night, she had homed in on some other poor sod but not before whispering her room number into his ear and winking. At the time, he had shuddered and hoped to never see her again. Instead of retreating back to his own room, he had settled down with the old folk and picked up a horror book. He’d received his fair share of odd looks from the other residents in the room of the nearly dead over his choice of reading material. The news of what he had stumbled upon must have gone through this place like wild-fire and he guessed that he must be traumatised. Well, sod them. It would take more than that to upset this ex-butcher.

What remained of the book was still in the same place where he had thrown it last night, blue and yellow mould growing over the cover, it had expanded to three times its original size. Arthur tried to pick it up but the book just fell through his hands like wet papier-mâché. He wiped the disgusting mess on the edge of the door as he left; there was no point in staying here. He took a left and set off towards Polly’s room, if anyone would know what was going on here then it would be her.

Arthur hurried down the ward, not caring whether the rooms were empty or not. That feeling of unease had now developed into a full blown panic. Ever since he’d left the common room, he was sure that someone or something was following him, stalking him. He shouldn’t be heading for Polly’s rooms, he ought to be heading for the nearest fire exit and getting the hell out of here. He stopped, hid behind a concrete pillar and listened, not daring to breathe.

It was the smell that first alerted him, a cross between rotten pork and wet clay. He’d noticed something similar back in Ida’s room but it was almost undetectable. The smell almost knocked him on his back a few seconds ago and then there were the clicks, like the sound his dog’s claws made on his kitchen tiles, only much louder.

There it was again, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. The image of a great big slobbering grizzly bear chasing him through the ward ran through his mind but he didn’t know of any bear, grizzly or not that went into rooms and shut the door after it.

The clattering receded. Arthur decided to run for it before the creature got any closer. He peered around the column and caught a glimpse of something big and black running into a patient’s room. He ran over to the nurse’s station and ducked behind the desk, hoping that the slapping of his slippers on the floor wouldn’t draw its attention. That was no bear that was for goddamn sure. Arthur now had no doubt that the horse-breather and that thing were one and the same creature. Pens? More like claws.

It was taking its time in that room. The creature wasn’t benign; he knew that for a bloody fact, plant eaters didn’t have talons. What if it was eating? Found a sleeping patient and started to feast? He ought to go and check.

Bollocks to that, maybe if he had a machine gun. He peered over the desk; the best weapon he could find was a stapler. The room next to him was 217. Polly had whispered 221 to him so it must be round here somewhere. He waited a few more seconds, trying not to think of the beast tearing chunks of flesh out of some unfortunate patient then he stood up and edged towards the next room. His eyes fixed on that doorway, knowing full well that it could emerge any second and he would basically be the thing’s next meal.

217’s door was wide open; he saw a desk and a couple of chairs in there and guessed it must be a consultation room. Arthur picked up the stapler from the desk; it was old and heavy, perfect for what he had in mind.

He opened the door next to the room where the big creature ran in and threw the stapler hard against the window then ran around the corner. As the sound of splintering wood filled his ears, he flattened himself against the wall, hoping that the bloody thing would go in the other direction.

He held his breath, listening out for any more noise but it had gone totally silent; he guessed that it must have returned to that room. The door directly across from him was Polly’s, if she was in there he would have to try and get her out of the nearest fire exit, they couldn’t go back the way he’d come. The rooms on this part of the ward were more private. No frosted glass windows, the floors were carpeted and even the doors were fitted with locks. The must be the posh bit where all of Holburn’s well to do patients were kept. Did that mean Polly had a bit of money? Maybe he should start being friendlier to her if she had cash. Oh God, listen to him, he was beginning to sound like his own bloody sister.

Her door had her name scrawled on the little board just like everyone else’s, for some reason he’d expected a brass plaque. He approached with caution; despite the door being wide open, he couldn’t see inside. Arthur should at least be able to make out the wallpaper. It looked like it was foggy or full of smoke. As he reached the door frame, he saw that it was neither.

Countless threads of a fine grey cotton like material had being secured to every surface in the room - even the door handle was covered in the stuff. Arthur could just about make out the shape of the bed but had no idea if it was occupied.

Could this stuff be spider silk? He extended a finger and touched a thread then jerked it back, hissing. Good God, the stuff was freezing, he wasn’t expecting that. His finger had created a tiny hole like boiling water dripping on ice. His finger seemed fine if bloody cold.

“Polly?” he shouted. “Are you in there?”

Something on the bed moved. Through the haze of threads, he could make out a shape on the bed thrashing about.

“Arthur?” she cried.

Oh Christ, she’s hurt; it sounded like she was buried under a pile of blankets. What the hell was going on?

“Hang on,” he replied, “I’m coming.” Arthur lifted off a bed sheet folded on a trolley and threw it over his head then ran into the room, thankful that he still had his slippers on.

He stopped at the foot of the bed, panting, and lifted the blanket off his head and held it in his hand. None of the stuff came anywhere near where Polly was lying, as if a dome-like perimeter had formed around her bed. He watched the tunnel he had made close up. Jesus what was that stuff?

She lay in bed, the sheet covered up to her neck. Her chest was moving up and down, she appeared to be asleep.

“Polly?”

No answer. He bent a little closer, trying to see if he could hear her breathing. Something fell off his wrist and he almost shat himself.

It was only the bloody sheet; he’d forgotten he had that. Arthur wanted to keep hold of it, he would have to put it back over his head when they left but when he looked again, the sheet was rotting away, falling through gaps in his fingers. He threw what was left of it at the closing-in tunnel, and then took a very close look at his finger looking for any sign of rot.

When he looked back to Polly, she had her eyes wide open, staring at him with a look of helplessness and fear. Her mouth opened and closed but no words uttered.

“Polly, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

He bent over her, unable to work out what she was saying to him. Her hand closed around his wrist and squeezed, she moved her head a couple of inches closer.

“Kill me,” she said.

Polly looked down at the white sheet covering her frail body, tiny gasps escaping from her mouth. He followed her eyes and a sudden chill ran through Arthur Wright’s spine.

Tiny wet, green spots appeared on the sheet, spreading out like ink on blotting paper. He gripped the edge of the sheet and wrenched it back, exposing Polly’s naked top half. Her body was covered in hundreds of little cratered holes, a green jelly substance spilling out from the middle. Hordes of tiny black insects crawled through the glop.

Arthur’s shaking hand dropped the sheet and he staggered back, his numbed brain unable to comprehend what his eyes were showing him. His neck and shoulders brushed against some of the threads. He cried out and fell forward. He slammed his hand against the metal bed stand to stop him from falling into the writhing mass of insects and clamped the other hand on the back of his neck. The affected part of his skin drew the heat out of his hand like a dry sponge.

Arthur looked back at the poor woman, knowing that she had just died. In the space of a few seconds, her skin had stretched tight across her face, cheekbones threatening to rip through the thin dry skin at any moment.

The insect things had drained her until she resembled nothing more than a desiccated corpse.

They were dripping off the bed in large lumps. Some scurried under the bed but most started to climb the web, heading for him. When he spotted two enormous spider-like legs poking out from under the bed, he pulled the pillow out from under her.

Polly’s head fell back down and exploded like a giant puffball mushroom. He placed the pillow over his face and ran through the threads. He was convinced that the spider thing would jump onto his back at any moment and drag him under that bed.

He moved the pillow away from his head just in time to stop him from colliding into the trolley; he dropped the pillow and picked up two soft towels and wrapped them around his freezing hands.

He ran back the way he came. Fuck the hospital, fuck the giant spider and fuck the black monster. He was going to find his clothes and get out of this madhouse. Arthur Wright was going home.

He flew down the hospital corridors, oblivious to the hidden horrors behind the closed doors, his mind only focused on one thing.

Arthur reached his room and pulled open the door. The temperature had returned to normal. Arthur refused to dwell on it, his mind now on automatic. His towels fell to the floor, followed by the rotting dressing gown, he yanked open the cupboard and took out the clothes he’d come here with. The jacket still smelled of decaying leaves. He’d have to get that washed.

Fully dressed and feeling better than he had since he first woke up, he wandered over to the window. It was going to be a nice day today as soon as the sun broke through that cloud. Perhaps he ought to ring Maureen up and tell her about the homemade burgers in the freezer. She always liked his homemade burgers.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to get out before it was too late.

He walked to the bed and picked up his watch from the bedside cabinet. No, he won’t ring her, he could pop into the supermarket and pick up some burger buns and surprise her. Arthur could fry up some chips, open that last tin of peas…

Oh bugger, his shoelace must be caught on something. Arthur’s legs were pulled out from under him, the floor rocketed towards his face but his nose hit the radiator first before his body smashed into the floor. Arthur felt himself being flipped onto his back; another huge spider thing scuttled out from under the bed and crawled over his legs.

His vision was filled with a pair of black fangs dripping with green slime. He couldn’t move; the thing had pinned him to the floor. Any second now, those two fangs would puncture his stomach.

Oh God, this is what must have happened to Polly. He was about to be filled with tiny spider eggs. He shut his eyes and prayed that it would miss and stab his heart to save him that agony.

The spider fell onto his body; Arthur screamed but felt no pain. He opened his eyes a crack.

The spider was dead. A stranger stood on the bed holding the IV stand in both hands, the sharp end buried into the monster’s abdomen.

He pushed the revolting thing off him and sat up. The man threw him a hanky soaked in cold water.

“We need to get you out of here.” He pointed at the blood streaming from Arthur’s nose. “That will attract the others like flies to shit.”

He gave his saviour the once over. “Who are you?”

The man grinned, showing off his rotten teeth. “Don’t you remember me? Dave may have made my life a complete misery but at least I wasn’t his fucking lapdog.”

Chapter Fourteen

For the first time in months, his pink marigold gloves had stayed on the shelf in the store cupboard when he’d picked up his other cleaning gear. He’d had enough of Andrew’s cruel banter yesterday and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give him any excuse to start again. He could imagine exactly how the stupid ox would react if he saw him wearing his pair of pink washing up gloves.

Pete secretly glanced up, expecting the lad to be standing over him with his hands planted on his hips and scowling down but he was still in the same place, the seat by the till with those size ten ex-army boots parked on the desk. Andrew still had Pete’s old paper in front of his face.

It didn’t take anyone, even an idiot like Andrew, four hours to read one newspaper, unless he was only pretending. That made sense; he suspected the only things he did read were betting slips and beer prices in pubs.

Pete shook his head and got back to the task of cleaning out the mouse cage. He should have put the gloves on, anything was better than getting soggy rodent shit under his fingernails, even getting the piss taken out of him by some thug half his age. Pete looked up once more and wondered if the idiot would have even noticed if he had donned the gloves. He doubted that he’d notice if he put on a fairy costume, the lad hadn’t said a word for hours.

This wasn’t right. As soon as he heard the boy’s voice this morning, Pete had resigned himself to another day of torment, snide remarks and veiled threats. Perhaps he should’ve been thankful that he was staying out of his way but he wasn’t, if anything he was more stressed. Every time Andrew moved, he jumped out of his skin.

He was going to have to get out of here; otherwise he’d be a nervous wreck by the end of the day. It was almost twelve; Dave should be over in a few minutes. He might stay over there for the rest of the day, it’s not like they’d been busy. Hell, they hadn’t had a single customer all morning.

Pete cleared away the rubbish, put some new bedding in the sage then transferred the mice back. That’s what he was going to do, he decided. The rest of the cleaning could wait until tomorrow. He’d spend some quality time with Dave. Sod the shop, why should he care anymore?  His new employer didn’t, he’d proved that by setting that brain donor on him.

Pete wiped his hands on a towel. In the past he would have berated himself for thinking such childish thoughts but today he really couldn’t give a monkey’s bollock.

Well, not as much as he should’ve done, anyway. He perhaps should at least finish off the rodent cages before he left the shop, it shouldn’t take that long. Pete shook the antiseptic spray bottle; the few dregs sloshing about at the bottom wouldn’t be any use. He’d have to get it re-filled.

“Andrew, I’m just going into the cellar for some antiseptic. I won’t be a moment.”

“Get me an ice cream,” the voice behind the newspaper replied.

There were a few retorts he could have used but he kept quiet. He flicked the light switch and descended into the cellar, while in his mind, he was holding the bastard’s head under water in the tropical fish tank.

He wouldn’t have spoken to his mate Dave like that, he wouldn’t have dared. He jumped out of the way of Andrew’s thrashing legs without taking pressure off his head. The bastard must be in the final throes of death by now; it didn’t take that long for a man to drown. At last he felt the lad’s strength draining away.

Pete smiled as he stepped into the cellar. Dave would have called his fantasies childish and unhealthy. He’d order him to act like a man and just clip the lad round the back of the head. He imagined that if he did do that, Andrew would knock him into the middle of next week. Dave didn’t have a clue what it was like to be him. Pete was the polar opposite of Dave which was probably why they got on so well. It was just unfortunate that what attracted Dave to him also attracted the Andrews of this world, eager to make his life a complete misery.

Maybe it would be best if he just left this down here and went out, stop Dave from coming over. This was ridiculous; he shouldn’t allow his work to suffer just because he was scared of what would happen when they met. Dave was bound to cross Andrew’s path sooner or later, it might as well be today. He dug out the funnel and refill jar then started filling up his bottle very slowly. It might as well be today, while he was down here.

Some of the antiseptic missed the lip of the funnel and splashed onto the floor. Pete called himself a clumsy idiot, then the whole room shook, and he grabbed hold of the table. What the hell was going on? Since when did Holburn become an earthquake zone? Then, as quickly as it started, the shaking stopped. If it wasn’t for the fine dust covering his arms he could have sworn that he’d imagined it.

Pete screwed the top of the bottle back on and moved towards the stairs; he decided against waiting for Dave to come to the shop, he was eager to find out what had just happened; Dave was bound to know. Even if he didn’t, he was bound to have an opinion, he always did.

Pete stopped before the first step and looked down, puzzled. They were not there when he’d first come down; he was willing to put money on it. There was a small colony of bright green toadstools growing out of the cracks in the concrete. They looked ugly, vile and slimy. Pete wanted to stamp on the loathsome things but he knew that the sensation of putting his foot down on them would be like standing on a pile of slugs and he knew he’d throw up. He held the bottle out in front of him and depressed the trigger.

“Take that you bastards,” he muttered.

As the drops of liquid touched the toadstools, they fizzed and popped releasing a cloud of tiny spores. Pete clamped his hand over his mouth and nose then ran up the steps, gagging at the revolting stench that accompanied the drifting cloud. He drenched the top of the stairs with the contents of the bottle before he dared to remove his hand. Jesus that smelt fucking rank. Picking up the torch hanging on the wall beside him, he shone the beam down the side of the stairs.

The stuff was everywhere; he’d never seen anything like this before. The spores that had shot out had floated down and settled along the cracks in the concrete, the fungus was sprouting as he watched it.

He shoved the torch into his back pocket and ran back into the shop. Bloody hell, this was serious, he’d have to get someone in to sort it and quickly, the stuff was spreading up and out of the cellar, spores were already underneath the kitten cage.

“Andrew, I need to borrow your phone.”

He had left his at home, he could see it right now, the damn thing was still on the coffee table, placed there this morning next to his car keys and he’d still left it behind.

The boy hadn’t replied. Christ, what was wrong with the idiot today?

“Andrew! Come on man, stop messing around, I’m serious.”

The only response he received was the paper shaking and the meathead chuckling. Bollocks, he didn’t have time for this. He strode over to the door. Dave had a phone, he wondered if his shop was infected too. Pete glanced at the boy, what was up with him today?

“I won’t be long,” he said.

Andrew was having hysterics behind that paper.

“Okay, what’s so funny? What’s the big joke?”

A big, fat, grubby finger poked out from behind the paper and pointed at one of the cages he had yet to clean. The bars had been snapped and twisted apart.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Pete shouted. Did Andrew even have a concept of the chaos an escaped animal could cause? He ran over, keeping an eye on the floor. It used to house the chinchilla so it shouldn’t have gotten that far.

“Fucking irresponsible fool,” he muttered. Pete didn’t care if he heard him, this was serious, and he’d had those damn cages for decades. He couldn’t see the bloody animal anywhere. Stupid thing, it had probably scurried behind the food sacks, what was he going to do about the cage? He bent forward to take a closer look.

The thoughts of damage and the cost of replacement flew out of his mind when the interior came into view. It looked like a tin of red paint had detonated inside. A small lump of raw meat, one side coated in grey fur dripped off the ceiling and fell into the food dish.

“You dirty, murdering, bastard. You’re going to pay for that. I’m going to…”

Several nails punctured the top of his shoulders, the shop rolled as Pete was savagely spun around.

Hot crimson eyes from what Andrew was becoming shone down on him. He was pushed back against the broken cage, the warped bars digging into his back. Those long claws dug further in as the thing grew and filled out. Pete was re-living his nightmare.

The skin stretched and split, Pete shook his head from side to side; this couldn’t be happening, the things cavernous mouth yawned wide, he tried to shrank back, knowing full well that those teeth like jagged shards of glass were about to rip into his tender body.

Most of its old pink flesh was now on the floor, forming an uneven pattern of stinking slop between them. Pete’s time had almost run out. The jaws opened even wider.

There was no waking up from this nightmare, no second chance would be given, but he was buggered if he was going to let this fucker steal his life. He gritted his teeth against the almost unbearable pain as he tried to move his arms to reach into his back pocket.

The thing towered over him, its head rearing back, and ready to strike like a cobra. He pulled out the torch, shaking fingers managing to turn it on, then shone the beam straight into the bastard’s loathsome, black, mutated face.

It shrieked like a stuck pig and jumped back with its head blistering and steaming. He almost passed out from the pain as its talons ripped out through his skin when it reared back, but he knew that if he lost consciousness then it would be over. Remembering the door in his dream, he slammed his head back against the cage and then shot forward, his hands held out in front of him, reaching for the outside door and freedom.

“Gonna squeeze you like a grape, you little man,” The words were mashed but identifiable. “Gonna chomp on your head like I did with that bunny!”

Pete grabbed the handle and flung open the door, bathing the interior of the shop in bright sunlight. The creature screamed again and dived behind the counter to escape its cleansing rays.

“It was a chinchilla, you stupid bastard!” Pete retreated out of the shop, keeping his eyes fixed on that counter. But of the creature, there was no sign.

Pete emerged into a street fighting a losing battle against the strange new plant-life. Patches of bright coloured fungus and lichen burst out from cracks in the paving slabs, the roads and buildings. The spreading infestation turned the landscape into a primary coloured alien nightmare. He put aside the countless burning questions about what was happening, the only thing that should concern him was trying to stay alive, the thing that Andrew was becoming would not be the only one in town, there were bound to be others.

He stopped at the kerb, indecision tearing at him. He needed to see Dave, make sure he was okay - but what if he had changed too?

Tiny yellow vines emerged from the drain in front of him and wound around the toe of his boot. He hopped back in shock then jumped up and down on the stuff. Well, he couldn’t stay here; if Dave had changed at least he still had his torch.

Pete ran over the road doing his best not to step on any of the dense clumps of tiny green toadstools growing out of any conceivable gap. Not that it would have made the slightest difference as the slightest breeze sent millions of spores into the sky, a green haze had already formed and getting thicker by the minute. He tried not to think about just how many of those spores he had already breathed in and the damage they could be doing to his insides. He reached the kerb and glanced back, his footprints in the road looked like he’d just run across a wet beach, every indentation filling up with a riot of alien plants.

This stuff was eating into everything, even the stonework. He figured that in a few hours time not a single stone building in Holburn would be left standing.

He pushed open the door to Dave’s shop, trying not to scream when the glass fell out and shattered on the floor. He had the torch in his hand before he took one step over the threshold. He really did hope to Christ that his friend hadn’t turned into one of those things.

The torch beam cut through the gloom exposing more devastation wrought by the plants, his heart thudding and at any moment expecting the skull splitting scream to explode from Dave as the white light scorched his black mutated body.

“Dave? Are you about mate?” He licked his lips, hoping that if he did answer, it wouldn’t be the dry, gravely voice of one of those creatures.

Pete received no answer, for which he was grateful; he looked at the multicoloured wet mess where the newspapers and magazines were and the blackened shelves full of unidentifiable fuzzy lumps and didn’t think that his friend would be just sat on his favourite stool just ready to pass the time of day with him as soon as he walked in.

He rushed in and ran up to the till and shone the torch behind the counter. There was nothing apart from the skeletal metal frame of Dave’s stool. Pete hurried into the kitchen, smiling for the first time since he woke up when he’d seen the state of it. Pete was so glad that not all of his dreams were prophetic. The living room was the next place to check. There seemed little point in calling out his name again, if he hadn’t heard him the first time then he couldn’t be here.

Pete gazed into the back yard watching the security fence folding over the wall like wet cardboard and wondered exactly where Dave could have gone.

“Dave!” he shouted. “Where the hell are you? Come on you daft bastard, answer me!”

In the room above the kitchen, something fell to the floor with an almighty crash, and he froze.

Oh crap. What if that tentacled behemoth in his dream was real and was up there, just waiting for him to pay it a visit?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

No, he couldn’t leave; he had to find his friend. There was no way he could face this new world by himself.

He wrenched open the cutlery drawer, the front came off in his hand and the contents flew out and clattered all over the tiles. Pete dropped to his knees, his eyes seeking out the one knife that might withstand the attacks from all this weird plant stuff.

He kicked the knives and forks and spoons in a fit of temper. It wasn’t here, the bloody knife had gone and he’d been so sure that it would be here. He stood up and booted a slotted spoon under the cooker, unsure of what to do now. He couldn’t go upstairs without a weapon; somehow, he knew that his friend was up there this time and he had to climb those stairs and face whatever was waiting for him.

The giant tentacled monster doesn’t exist.

Pete Butterworth froze, that thought wasn’t his, and he felt like it had just been shoehorned into his head.

“I’m either going loopy or someone else is in my mind…”

He grabbed the edge of the sink and stared at the plates half submerged in the dirty water, his distorted face staring back at him.

“Don’t be a dickhead Peter,” he muttered. The situation was dire enough without him distracting himself by entertaining the delusion that some higher force, benign or otherwise, had taken up residency inside his head.

He threw those ideas into the bin where they belonged and concentrated on the task at hand, like trying to find that bloody knife he’d bought Dave last Christmas. He had sworn on his life that it was the best present he’d ever got and reassured him that he would use it every day. He had been taken aback by Dave’s rare burst of emotion and although his friend wasn’t the best cook in the world and would probably only uses it to pierce the film on microwave meals; he knew he would keep his word.

The knife should have been in the bloody drawer. The answer, though, was literally staring him in the face; he couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. Pete wiped the frothy green scum off the surface and dipped his hand into the cold water. It didn’t take him long to find his prize, the plant stuff had eaten through the soft grip plastic revealing a smooth metal handle. The blade glinted in the hazy green sunlight; it still seemed as sharp as he’d bought it. Satisfied that he had the correct equipment, he now felt confident of facing whatever was hiding in the upper rooms.

Pete ran through the living room to the door by the stairs, knowing that if he hesitated, he’d never go through with it. Looking up, he saw the ceiling bowing in the middle where Dave’s bed had to be. At the rate this stuff was growing, anything made of wood - including the floor boards and the stairs in front of him - would be gone.

He didn’t allow doubt to creep back in, he knew full well that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Dave died; he turned the torch back on and ran up the stairs, keeping to the edge.

The contrast between here and downstairs was startling; apart from a few spots of mould on the carpet, the landing seemed almost normal. The illusion of normality vanished as soon as he looked through the window and out onto the surface of an alien world.

Holburn as it was had gone. The old drab greys had vanished under a living creeping psychedelic carpet of yellow and green fuzz. Pete hoped that the elevation would have helped him scour the town for any other survivors. He sighed; there was little chance of that happening. Even if there was anyone stupid enough to venture out he wouldn’t have been able to see them due to the swirling cloud of spores obscuring almost everything at street level.

Pete turned away from the window wondering how long it would take for the spore cloud to be thick enough to allow the Andrew-like creatures to emerge from their hiding places and start hunting. As he stood by the first closed door, knife gripped tight in his sweating hand and alert for any sound that might give away Dave’s presence, he realised that they wouldn’t have to wait for the cloud to thicken up; within a few hours the sun would be setting.

He shuddered, trying to banish the image of hundreds of those things prowling through the remnants of Holburn’s fog-shrouded, darkened streets and chasing down and savaging what remained of the surviving population. He hoped to Christ that he was out of this town before then. Pete took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The stench that blasted out of the room was strong enough to burn his eyes, God, it was worse than ammonia. He wiped his watering eyes on his sleeve then looked around the room.

Dave wasn’t in here. This must be the bedroom above the living room; there was a huge old fashioned metal bed in the middle of the floor or at least what was left of it. The mattress had been stripped to the springs and he guessed that the blue and red mush around the bed must be all that was left of the quilt and sheets.

As he watched, the stuff bubbled up like thick, boiling mud and then hundreds of tiny spiders burst though and crawled towards the open door in unison.

He yelped and slammed the door shut then got down on his hands and knees and hoped to God that the little bastards weren’t going to come through the gap at the bottom of the door. But there was little chance of that happening, it looked like Dave was conscious of heat loss and had fitted thick rubber draft excluders to every door.

Well, that helped to explain why the plant life hadn’t affected the landing yet. His choice now was down to the spare room and the bathroom.

Pete crept past the towel cupboard, heading for the bathroom; he’d check the spare room last. His hand rested on the handle when something banged against the inside of the towel cupboard door. What the hell was that? He ran back to the window thinking that one of those monsters could be hiding in there; it must have smelt the blood from his back and shoulders as he walked past.

Dave wasn’t in the house, Pete was deceiving himself. He would have answered by now. Oh bollocks, the spore cloud was now so thick, it was almost solid and the stuff had started to rise; if he was going to go it would have to be now.

The air in front of him warmed up and began to shimmer, he stepped back in shock then winced in pain as his shoulders touched the glass. An object appeared in front of him then fell to the floor, rolling across the carpet and coming to rest by the bathroom door. Pete wanted to cry; his eyes didn’t leave the object. He wasn’t too concerned about what was behind the door now, he knew what it was, of course he did, and it was obvious. Pete couldn’t stop himself from grinning, sure there were malignant forces at work in the town but there was also a balance.

Pete picked up the toy that Michael Richards had once snatched out of his hands in the playground and jumped up and down on it. Tears were running down his cheeks as he twirled it around in his hands, even one of the robot claws still had the doggy teeth in it.

Pete put his beloved Transformer into his pocket then opened the door to the towel cupboard. Dave tumbled out backwards, covered from head to foot in white cobwebs, wrapped up like a silk parcel.

The stuff melted as soon as Pete touched it. He didn’t have a clue whether he was still alive or not but he didn’t look it. He knelt beside him and wiped off the cobwebs, was he too late? The poor man’s skin felt like freezing wax. He did the first thing he could think of, he bent over and wrapped his arms around him. Pete stayed in that position for what seemed like hours, feeling Dave leach the heat out of his body like a vampire.

Chapter Fifteen

Damien collapsed against the cracked plastic window, desperate to get more air into his burning lungs. He clawed at the stuff wrapped around his mouth and nose, knowing that if he didn’t get it off, he would either pass out or even suffocate.

A masked figure appeared through the thick green fog, bent over and grabbed his hand.

“Leave it alone,” said the muffled voice.

The figure crouched down in front of him and placed his hands by his sides.

“If you pull the scarf off then you’ll almost certainly die.”

“Can’t breathe,” he gasped.

“Yes, you can. Just take deep slow breaths and the pain will subside in a few moments.”

This wasn’t fair, look at her; Jen wasn’t even out of breath. Oh hell, the stitch in his side was crippling him. He took in another great lungful of filtered air.

“Let it out slowly,” she said.

He thought of all those occasions when he took the piss out of her bloody obsession with going to the gym and spending hours on the treadmill and rowing machine. Ha! Who was taking the piss now? It wasn’t him. The only exercise he got was lifting his pint to his mouth.

God, what he would do right now for a pint of ice-cold lager…

“Any better?”

He nodded. The ache in his lungs had lost some of its edge and the stitch wasn’t too noticeable as long as he kept perfectly still.

“We need to get a move on Damien, it might have followed us.”

Bollocks to that, Damien wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, he didn’t think it would stray too far from its nest. The fucker had been as big as them, plus it had eight legs, it could have run them down while they were fleeing from that shop.

He didn’t bother mentioning this to Jennifer, he had no wish to pick another fight with her, and not when it was his fault in the first place that they’d nearly been killed.

Damien had only said that considering the circumstances that they should get tooled up, they needed weapons. She was having none of it, telling him that their only option was to keep running and to get out of Holburn as soon as they could. She had told him that this was no fucking video game and to stop acting like a big kid. Damien took her advice on board, then put a brick through the DIY store.

He’d been in here last week with Tony, drooling over the hunting knives kept in a glass display case near the fishing gear. He’d decided to liberate the biggest one. He was so focused on his glittering prize at the back of the store; he hadn’t noticed the body of the woman until his foot sank into the side of her head.

He felt like he’d just stood in an ice-cream shaped ball. Thick grey porridge-like goo oozed from the hole his Adidas trainer had made. His numbed mind couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. The bones in his legs melted and he grabbed the first thing his grasping hands found to stop him falling into the glutinous ruin before him.

This just wasn’t possible. How could a body be no longer solid? Dozens of clear, plastic packets of screws rained down from the shelf, some of them fell onto the corpse and sank out of sight. He couldn’t take any more of this, fuck the knife, he should have listened to Jennifer, and he turned and ran back the way he came.

Jen was picking her way through the hole. She saw him running towards her then looked past him and screamed. He shouldn’t have stopped and turned around but he couldn’t help it. What he saw scuttling towards them at high speed across the ceiling almost stopped his heart.

A spider-like creature the size of an Alsatian dog had them it its sights. Four front legs hung down, the thick, black bristled legs clicking together like knitting needles, constructing a silken sheet.

Damien nearly lost control of his bladder at the sight of the tattered brown overall hanging off its bloated body. A white plastic name tag pinned to the material bumped against one of its legs every time it moved. Oh my God, that was Jerome; he was the dork who’d told him and Tony to bugger off out of the shop.

A tin of oven cleaner arced over his head, hitting the spider thing between the eyes. The movement broke the spell it had cast over him. Jen grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the shop. This time he didn’t look back.

Damien pulled away from the bus shelter window. His head left an impression in the plastic. Everything of human origin was living on borrowed time. How long would it be before the stuff started to eat into the metal? How long before he was eaten away or changed into one of those monsters? He scraped off the green slop that had collected over the pink gauze and flicked it onto the dissolving window.

“Help me up, Jen.”

She pulled him up with little effort, and he resented the fact that she seemed to be coping with this better than he was.

“Are you ready for the next bus shelter dash?”

He shook his head. “We can’t go on like this Jen. This stuff is getting thicker, if we don’t get out of this damn fog; I think it’ll kill us.”

“We should be at your house in a few minutes, it can’t be that far now.”

He put his weight against one of the metal columns. The plastic window wobbled but the metal didn’t move.

“We need to get higher. A footbridge will do, or maybe the fire exit ladders on the side of a building.” He tapped the post in the bus shelter. “Has to be metal though.”

She stopped writing her name with her finger in the soft plastic window and slowly turned to face him, Damien could tell from the look on her face that she had guessed.

“If I get above the fog then I’ll be able to tell where we are,” he told her.

“So we’re lost”

He nodded.

“Fuck.”

Damien peered out of the bus shelter to where the road should have been. This weird green stuff was now so thick that almost all details were obscured, but it was still clear enough to see that the road was no longer smooth. Dark barbs of huge plants had started to push up through the ground, tarmac and stone losing the fight against this new and aggressive plant life.

He knew that it would soon be almost impossible to travel anywhere.

“What about the fire station?” she asked. “There’s bound to be loads of ladders in there.”

“I’m sure there is. But we’re lost. How do you expect us to find it? Ring 999 and ask for directions?”

She dug her nails into his sleeve and pulled him away from the kerb. “Despite what you may think Damien, I’m not a total balloon head. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t know where it was.”

He allowed her to drag him out of the bus shelter and up to a high brick wall and told him to look up. A large metal sign reading Holburn Fire Station stared down at him.

Jennifer might be pleased about her discovery but Damien sure as hell wasn’t. The fire station was on the opposite side of town to the DIY shop, almost three miles away; it also meant that they were even further away from his house.

“A lucky find,” he murmured, not believing a word of it. This fog had buggered up his sense of direction but it sure as hell hadn’t buggered up his geography as well and this should not have been here.

Damien hurried to catch up with her as he followed Jennifer through the open gates. He looked back, watching the bus shelter vanish behind the thick green fog.

This just wasn’t possible, how could they have moved three miles across town? Damien couldn’t explain his fears to Jennifer, she wasn’t a local. The daft cow would just call Damien a balloon head again and tell him to stop being so stupid.

He was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice that his girlfriend had melted into the fog, the spore clouds were now so thick he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. He found himself alone, lost and blind.

“Jen?” he whispered. “Where are you?”

Damien received no reply.

“Jennifer?” he shouted. “Where the hell are you?”

He fished his phone out of his pocket intending to ring her, gratified to see that there was no sign of plant corruption on it. But there was still no signal.

As Damien dropped the phone into his pocket, a pair of hands picked him off the ground. They threw him into the rusted hulk of a VW campervan. His dazed and shaken brain catalogued the black furry syrup pooling around the wheel rims before Jennifer bent over him. This time, her hands took hold of the front of his shirt and she lifted him off the ground, as if he weighed less than a bag of feathers. Damien gazed at his girlfriend’s luminescent green eyes and the papery fronds growing out of the corner of her mouth. She had started to change, to become one of them. His darling Jennifer was now going to complete the job her brother had started.

He was a dead man.

“What the hell are you playing at Damien? There’s no bloody need to shout when I’m stood next to you!”

What the hell? How could she be not aware that she was changing? He couldn’t believe it. Perhaps there was a God after all.

“I’ll tell you what, you docile twat. Why don’t I give you a megaphone so you can shout out our position to the rest of the planet?”

“I c- couldn’t see you,” he stammered. “I thought you’d left me.”

Her features softened. If she wasn’t aware of what was happening to her, what would happen when she did? It wouldn’t take much. Catching a reflection in a window, brushing her hand across her face would be enough. Damien wanted to trust her, believe that despite the changes she was essentially the same person inside.

“I’m sorry Damien, I didn’t mean to shout.”

“No, it’s my fault. I panicked, that’s all.”

Jen brushed her hand down her face, his heart pushed up into his throat when she grabbed the stuff between her fingers and pulled it off, leaving a dark, green slimy looking hole by her mouth. The wound closed up and healed before his eyes. Jen gave the thing a puzzled look then dropped it onto the floor, forgotten. She let out a soft laugh.

“This isn’t how I envisioned we would spend today.” She sat down beside him and placed her hand on his thigh. He did his best not to recoil from her touch.

The stuff she had pulled off was right by his ankle, even at this distance, he could tell that there was nothing in the human anatomy that could compare. So how come she couldn’t see that when it was right in front of her eyes?  He gazed at Jen, trying to smile while looking for any more abnormalities.

Whatever was doing this to her must have some sort of built in defence mechanism that stopped the host from realising it was being altered.

He raised his own hand when the consequences of his thoughts hit home. If she hadn’t a clue then what if the same thing was happening to him?  Should he have this many digits? Should his skin be that colour? Fuck, should he even have hands? Jesus, he could go crazy thinking like this.

“What are you doing?”

He dropped his hands to his sides feeling as guilty as hell.

“Nothing,” he said. Damien sat there, desperately trying to think of some convincing lie to allay her suspicion when she jumped to her feet.

Jen sniffed the air around her, the movement looking more simian than human. She then spun around and ducked back behind the van with her eyes peering through the windowless driver door. She motioned him to get up with a frantic wave of her hand. Moving from where she had thrown him proved more difficult than he thought; his battered body just wanted to stay where it was. He considered giving in to his body’s wishes but he knew that pissing off the new and improved Jennifer would be ill-advised; he’d rather get up of his own accord than have her dragging him up.

He sidled up beside her, trying not to dwell on just how much pain he was in.

“Can you see them?” she asked.

He shook his head, for him, visibility stopped at the other side of the van.

“There’s nothing there,” he said. “You must be seeing things.”

“And you need your bloody eyes testing,” she muttered. She put her hands at either side of his head and twisted it to one side. Two sets of crimson lights stared back at him.

Damien forced himself to relax. They couldn’t get him, not out here. They must be looking out of a window or stood beside a door.

“Can you see them?”

“I can now.”

“We need to get out of here before they spot us.”

“No chance. I’m too shagged out to go anywhere.”

She looked at him as if he had grown a new head.

“I need to rest Jen. Those things won’t come out of that building until it gets dark and by that time we’ll be with Alan.”

Jen just stared at him, not moving and not speaking.

“Where are you looking?” she asked. “The fire station’s over there. Those things are stood out in the open.” She tensed up. “Oh shit, I think they can sense us, we really do need to get out of here!”

“No Jen, we can’t leave yet, it’ll be like running around in a lion enclosure with a blindfold on.”

“But I can see through it.”

“I fucking can’t.” He pulled her towards him. “We need to stay.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

He nodded then grabbed the end of the pink scarf and pulled. The fabric fell apart like ash, Damien knew he was taking a huge chance here but he was betting that whatever was changing her would not prevent Jen from seeing the bloody obvious.

“This stuff is eating into everything. Look at those tyres, for crying out loud. These scarves are falling apart. How long do you think we have before we start breathing this poison in? Ten, maybe twenty minutes?”

Jennifer gasped. She pulled him up, slammed him against the side of the van then covered his body with hers. He immediately presumed the worst. He’d pushed her too far. Jennifer realised she was different and now Damien was about to find out that the warranty on his life was invalid.

“Stop moving,” she hissed. “They’ll see us.”

Damien ceased his struggling; she wasn’t going to eat him after all.

Quite the opposite, he watched the dozens of red lantern lights streaming past the campervan, seeing thirty before he stopped counting. His heart thudded hard against the inside of his chest; he was sure that if any of them made the slightest twitch that endless procession of armour-plated monsters would break ranks and rip through them like starving piranhas. The chances of him moving anything but his eyes were remote. Jennifer had him pinned, his tortured muscles screaming out in agony at being locked into position. Her hand searched out his and she gave him a comforting squeeze. His hand was being held by a miner or a builder, hard and calloused. Damien wasn’t comforted, she squeezed tighter, oh god, and she was fucking crushing it. Through watering eyes he saw why.

One of the demonic things wasn’t following its colleagues through the mist, it stood as still as a statue, its bright red eyes reflecting off the metal above his head like twin red lasers.

His heartbeat accelerated to the speed of a pneumatic drill. It couldn’t see them, he remembered that from the encounter with Tony, but he suspected that it may be able to smell them. Why not? Jen could smell them coming.

The black demon’s curiosity may have got the better of him if it hadn’t been for another one behind it pushing it. The first one hissed then continued onward, apparently forgetting why it had stopped in the first place.

Jen stepped back and he flopped to the floor like a stringless puppet.

“Right, that’s it!” she announced. Jennifer seemed oblivious that he was face down in filth and creased up in agony. “We’re getting out of here right now. Are you coming or not?”

He was no fit state to even crawl out of here, could she not see that? He feared that if he pushed her hard enough then she really would just walk out and leave him here. After all, this was the new and improved Jennifer, half human, half fuck knows what.

“Help me up,” he croaked.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, sighed, and then with no effort at all lifted him up onto his feet.

“If you did a little more exercise then maybe you wouldn’t feel so tired.”

He just nodded and agreed. “If we’re going to leave then maybe you can carry me out” Damien was talking to himself, she wasn’t even looking at him.

“Jen?”

“That wasn’t there a minute ago, I’m sure of it.” She murmured.

He looked around and saw a metal pole leaning against the side of the van. She was right, that wasn’t there earlier. It would make a good weapon though. Not quite as effective as that Klingon sword but certainly better than nothing. He reached over, intending to grab it to take a closer look.

“Leave it.” she said.

“Why?”

“We don’t know where it came from.”

He looked at the tiny mushrooms growing out of the puddle of tyre rubber, the yellow vines trying to find purchase around her boots and finally at the frond that had re-appeared on her face and wondered if she knew how stupid she sounded. Well, if she thought that he was going to follow her around in the fog like some defenceless mole without the ability to defend himself she had another thing coming. He reached over and put his hands around the thin metal shaft.

The ice cold metal glued itself to his palm. Panic gripped him when he was unable to unclench his fist. He turned to Jen for help but she wasn’t even moving, her features frozen.

This wasn’t a metal pole; it must be some other strange life form. The pole texture in contact with his skin altered from smooth to ridged, it was like holding a cylindrical cheese grater. He imagined hundreds of hollow spines about to thrust up and suck out his blood or inject him with a poison. Oh God, he should have listened to her.

Jen’s hand moved toward the pole in a painfully slow motion, he couldn’t stop her and they were both going to die. A rush of endorphins burst into his brain, blocking out the panic and terror and replacing them with a supreme sense of calm and peace. He closed his eyes and grinned, feeling his energy levels rise from nothing to max out full.

Some of that sense of wellbeing left him, just for a moment. It transferred over to Jennifer, she giggled like a school girl. Damien didn’t want to share, he wanted it back.

He opened his eyes and saw Jen in stood in front of him, her hands tight around his looking like she was on the verge of orgasm. He now knew that what was buzzing through his body was just a drug high and very soon he’d be back to feeling like shit again, but at least now he knew that he wasn’t going mad.

Alan was indeed watching over them.

“Oh my word,” she whispered. She dropped down and kissed him full on the mouth. She pulled back, her eyes shining.

“Was that Alan?”

He nodded then bent down and picked up his brother’s gift. The metal pole felt good in his hands. He wanted to find the next red-eyed demon and bash its fucking brains out.

“It won’t last, Damien. Once the euphoria goes, sweetheart, you’ll crash down.”

He nodded.

There’s a training tower over there, we need to get you to it before that happens.”

He was dumbfounded. “I thought you wanted to split.”

She shrugged. “We’re here for a reason. And I think your brother wants us stay.”

She kicked off the yellow vines that had succeeded in wrapping around her shoes and dragged him away from the van.

“I think Alan tried to talk to me just now. It was like listening to an out of tune radio but he was adamant in us staying here and me looking after you.”

He’d heard no such voice.

“Alan said that the only way we’re going to survive this is to find other people who haven’t been altered.”

If they did find any other soul who had miraculously survived this apocalypse, Damien doubted that they be able to ignore the fact that his beloved girlfriend was now less than human.

Unless, of course, they had changed too.

Jen walked over to the corner of the van and peered around. He shook his head, how she could see anything in this bloody stuff was beyond him. Damien kept a firm grip on the pole. He had no idea how Alan had been able to get it to him or where it had come from in the first place. His finger run over an indentation on the metal; when he looked closer, Damien saw something had been stamped into the side of it. It read ‘Holburn General Hospital’

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Is it clear?”

“Well, I can’t see anything. Are you sure you’re up to this? Do you still feel you can still take on an army of those things?”

“Why are you asking? Let’s get this over with.”

As she dragged him out into the open, he heard a low growl and a huge red-eyed demon stepped out in front of him. There was no hesitation. Damien swung the pole with all his strength and it chopped into the creature’s neck with surprising force, knocking it backwards. The creature lost its balance and crashed through the rotten van panels. Jen grabbed his hand and they both bolted through the fog, hoping that the stuff would hide them before the demon had a chance to climb out of the wreckage.

The shape of the massive tower appeared through the mist and Damien offered up a prayer of thanks when he saw a ladder bolted to the wall. The thing screeched in the distance; he glanced behind him and saw its eyes like torch beams rapidly closing in. So much for hoping to lose it.

He ordered Jen to climb up first, noticing that the growths on her face were getting worse. It couldn’t be that long before she’d notice.

Its form took shape as it neared, a few more seconds and it would be on top of him, ready to tear him into flesh confetti. Well, let it do its worst. He raised the pole, he was ready. It was about time they took a stand.

Jen’s legs had disappeared into the mist, at least she was safe. The demon stopped a few feet away, Damien guessed that he must have confused it by not running for his life; it was scratching its head.

“Come on, you scaly fucker. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

The demon growled back then raised its arm. He saw just how big it was, with five sickle-like talons on each paw, each as big as a carving knife and just as sharp. Damien began to have doubts on whether he was making the right choice here.

It stepped forward a couple of paces then the beast yawned wide, crimson saliva dripping off its jagged, spiked teeth. His metal pole now felt like a cocktail stick.

“Bollocks to you!” He threw the pole like a spear, turned and scrambled up the ladder. Suddenly, his head cleared the green fog and bright sunlight almost blinded him. He squeezed his eyes shut and climbed faster, bracing for those talons to shred his legs.

Jennifer helped him onto the ledge and he opened his eyes a crack, just in time to see the monster’s black, slimy head burst through the mist. It shrieked as its skin dried and split apart, the cleansing sunlight boiling away the blackened flesh. The demonic monster’s claws slipped off the rungs and it fell back through the dense fog screaming in anguish, the sound of it smashing into the earth silenced it.

“That bloody thing was waiting for us,” Jen gasped.

The reality of just how close he had been to getting ripped apart was just beginning to sink in. He wanted this artificial high to fuck off right now; running around thinking you were Rambo would be great if he had access to an assault rifle rather than a metal stick.

“Are you alright?”

He slowly nodded and put his arm around her waist, noticing that the green stuff on her face had gone, leaving only a faint powdery residue.

“What the hell is happening to Holburn?  This is just unreal.”

Damien stood beside her at the edge and gazed out, shaking his head in disbelief. It looked like the entire town was smothered in dark green candyfloss. Only a few rooftops were visible. He glanced up, there were a couple more levels above this one and as they were clear of this green stuff, there shouldn’t be any more unpleasant surprises.

“What do we do now?”

He looked at the trapdoor above them.

“We climb and then we wait.”

Chapter Sixteen

His small wooden boat lurched to one side again. Damien’s steel fishing rod slid across the panels and fell overboard; there was nothing he could have done to stop it. His only means of feeding himself slowly sank into the thick green syrup. He watched in helpless frustration as the rod disappeared. Now what was he going to do?

The wind was picking up, rocking the fragile craft from side to side; he resisted the impulse to grab the sides. The last time he did that, some giant crab-like animal launched out of the gluey liquid and nearly snipped off his fingers. He pressed his hands flat against the base of the boat to steady himself; he had no wish to follow the fishing rod. He gazed into the frothy, green soup, knowing. Dozens of bright crimson eyes stared back at him from just below the surface. They were in no rush; they know the fragile wooden shell separating them from their meal wouldn’t last much longer.

A sudden gust almost capsized the tiny wooden craft; thick green glutinous liquid splashed over the side and flowed down the joins in the wood until it reached his splayed fingers. Damien jerked his hand back to avoid the revolting stuff from touching his skin.

He was too late to realise his mistake as he lost his balance. Damien fell out of the boat and into the…

Damien’s eyes sprang open. He still felt like he was choking from the viscous liquid filling his throat like corrosive vomit. The dream broke apart and dissolved, leaving him feeling like he had been put through the grinder and cast out like yesterday’s rubbish.

He was crouched in the corner of the room, his back pressed against the smooth wooden panels and shivering from the thin veneer of cold sweat coating his body.

“Thank God for that,” he whispered, seeing Jennifer’s concerned face in front of him. “I thought I was still alone”

“Jesus, Damien! I thought I wasn’t going to be able to wake you up. Are you all right?”

Damien wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked around the darkened room, its appearance totally changed since night had fallen.

He had wept with joy when his eyes first caught sight of this place. As his head emerged from the trapdoor, the bare wooden walls had been painted golden yellow by the afternoon sun, although the only furniture was a single bench in the corner, it didn’t matter as there was no sign of the plant contagion anywhere; for the first time since this started, he felt safe.

“Are you alright?” She repeated.

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Have you had another dream?”

He started at the flickering orange lights coming through the two large open windows, trying to remember what it was like to wake up in a comfortable bed.

“How long have I been asleep, Jen?”

She had her mobile phone in her hand, the screen illuminating her face, and he was relieved to see that none of those growths had re-appeared.

“You had about three hours before you started to shout and twitch.”

He wiped sleep out of his eyes. Three hours? It felt like five minutes. What the hell was he doing having another nightmare? He was under the impression that he was supposed to get a restful sleep; at least that’s what he surmised from how Alan had engineered this.

Unless there was another force at work…no, he refused to accept that. This was the result of a toxic waste spill or a genetic experiment gone wrong. Whatever had happened, it was an accident. The sheer idea that this was deliberate and that someone was working to some design was too monstrous to consider. He slammed a box on the whole idea and locked it.

Damien was more than a little surprised to see that Jen’s phone still worked. The delicate electronics inside that thing should have dissolved ages ago.

“I don’t suppose there’s a signal.”

She shook her head. “I wish.”

“Still, at least the street lights still seem to be working, that’s some comfort.” Damien thought that the authorities must have reached Holburn by now. Maybe getting the streetlights to work was part of their plan to get everything back to normal again.

She shook her head. “They’re not streetlights, Damien. Come and have a look.”

He took Jen’s hand and pulled himself up. He didn’t wish to dwell on the fact that her flesh now felt like rough hewn wood.

“Do you feel any better?” There was genuine concern on her face. The aches and pains were still there and his back felt like one big bruise but he didn’t feel as fatigued as earlier.

“I’ll live,” he murmured. The metal pole had re-appeared. It was propped up against the wall, near the bench. “I threw that at the demon.”

She shrugged, “I found it under the bench a couple of hours ago.”

As he hobbled over to the window, Damien couldn’t explain why he was still so reluctant to tell Jen what was happening to her body. Did he not trust her?

There wasn’t a trace of the green mist; he wanted to believe that it had just evaporated or sunk into the ground as opposed to the wind carrying the filth into the countryside. He looked out past Holburn town centre where normal life still dominated. Thousands of street lights illuminated the sky over there but stopped at the town’s border, after that, darkness reigned supreme except for here.

Five large bonfires had been lit inside the fire station compound. He found it a little odd how the rest of the town, what he could see of it, now resembled a dense alien jungle yet the compound was still free of any large plants, although the tarmac had now given way to the interlocking yellow vines with the odd toadstool poking through.

He couldn’t see anyone else about; they couldn’t be the only ones in town to survive this - although he was still unsure whether to class Jen as a survivor, considering she appeared to be slowly becoming part of the vegetation,

There must be someone left. His brother wouldn’t have guided them here without a good reason. He walked over to his metal pole then hurried to the trapdoor.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to take a look around. I won’t be long.”

She rushed up to him, grabbed his hands and dragged him back to the window. He didn’t put up resistance, he didn’t think he could.

“Do you see that mound covered in orange flowers? Well, there’s one hiding behind there.”

“One what?” he asked, confused as hell.

“A demon, of course! Who else would it be? Santa Claus? That hillock covered in twisted spikes is what’s left of the van we hid behind. Well, there are two more of them over there.”

He tried to imagine what would have happened to him if he had gone down there and shuddered, if she was telling the truth that was. Damien stared at the two places she had pointed out yet he couldn’t see anything.

“I know what you’re thinking and I swear to God that I’m not making this up. Who do you think built those fires?”

He hadn’t really given it any thought, he’d just assumed…

“You went to sleep almost at once; I sat here as soon as it got dark and watched the demon things come out of hiding.”

“My God! They didn’t see you did they?”

She shook her head.

“Do you think that we’d still be here if they had? Besides, they were too busy with what they were doing.”

“Are you telling me that they really did build them?”

She nodded.

He imagined himself out there, somewhere in what was left of the town. Hiding out and frightened shitless and then seeing all those lights appear in the distance. What was the first thing he would do? Damien went cold inside. “Bloody hell, like moths to a flame.”

“After they lit them, most of the demons went back inside but some of them stayed, they scattered and hid.” Jennifer took a deep breath. “The first one to come through the gates was an old woman. Her face was covered in all this weird green stuff. Like what you see on underneath old fishing boats.”

“You mean barnacles?”

Jennifer nodded. Damien found it odd how she could recognise the affliction in someone else but not in herself.

“This woman walks up to a bonfire and starts to warm her hands. The firelight reflecting off her face made her look worse than the demons, I thought her illness may have sent her round the bend…but then she looked around and shouted out ‘hello’ a few times.”

Damien wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the rest.

“I saw them slide out from their hiding places; there were four of them, all totally silent, creeping towards her from every direction. The woman didn’t notice anything until it was too late.”

Damien wondered just what must have gone through her mind when she saw those evil looking things stalking her. If she had survived through most of the day, he reckoned she must have seen or heard at least one of those things and known what they were going to do if they caught her. If it had been him in that position, he would have denied them a meal and thrown himself into the fire.

“They didn’t kill her, at least not out in the open. The first demon to catch her put its paw over her mouth and then dragged the struggling woman into the building. The others went back to their hiding places.”

Damien leaned out over the edge, determined to spot one of the creatures. He knew what he was doing was pretty bloody reckless but he couldn’t help it, he just had to see them. Jennifer pulled him back.

“Are you sure they’re still there?”

“I don’t see why not.” She sounded a little uncertain. “I saw a couple more people taken. I couldn’t take it anymore so I cuddled up to you. I must have dozed off as I woke to the sound of you screaming your head off. I didn’t think I was going to wake you up.”

“I’m glad you did. You won’t believe the nightmare I was having.”

“I wish I could wake from this nightmare,” she muttered.

Damien looked up to the full moon, taking in what she had told him. Those things obviously weren’t the mindless killers he took them to be. He still couldn’t believe that he and Jen were still alive.

“I wonder why none of them checked this place out?”

She shrugged. “Maybe they’re scared of heights.”

Jen took his hand then manoeuvred away from the window and sat him down on the bench. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Damien could tell from the look on her face exactly what it was. He prepared himself, prepared to at least look surprised when she told him. If she found out that he already knew and didn’t bother telling her then Christ knew how she’d react, probably by tearing off his arms.

“I found something growing on my skin last night and I think it’s best if I tell you now.”

A blood freezing scream pierced the silence; Jennifer’s fear filled eyes glanced to the window, her imminent confession forgotten. Damien shot off the bench, pushed past Jennifer and edged up to the side of the window. The fire station compound was no longer empty of life. A column of the crimson eyed monster marched out of the ruined building. The demons in the middle carried aloft captive humans like baggage, their slack limbs hanging down.

Despite looking dead, Damien didn’t think they would have gone to all this trouble to have an all night party and barbeque. Jennifer appeared beside him, reached for his hand then gasped.

“Oh my God, that’s Uncle Pete. What are they doing?”

Damien didn’t have a clue. The humans were dumped in a heap then the demons formed a rough circle around them. He thought he saw the woman twitch. Damien focussed on her, leaning a bit further out, he didn’t care about being seen now. If those poor people were dead then what was the point of being here? The woman twitched again, hope surged through him. Oh thank God for that.

Three demons broke from the circle; they approached the humans and lifted them up, holding them by their necks. A deathly silence descended upon the audience. Jennifer shook her head then turned away; he wanted to do the same but some compulsion kept him from even closing his eyes. The demons lowered their heads and bit into their captive’s shoulders.

“Is it over yet?” she whispered.

“No. They’ve gone to too much trouble just to slaughter them straight away.”

The woman was the first to wake, Damien watched her become aware of her surroundings, her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped and she whimpered.

The circle opened and another demon walked into the middle, this one differed from the others by being much larger and sporting a large crimson, bony crest down its back. It sat down in the middle of the circle and raised its paws into the air and stayed like that.

All three humans were now fully awake and alert, they made no sound. Another two demons entered the circle; Damien suspected that they weren’t too happy being in there considering the way the crowd was stopping them from re-joining them. The crested one barked once and they ceased, meekly approaching the kneeling demon with heads bowed. The pair kept their heads bowed as the crested demon ran its claws down their backs, along their knotted protruding spines. The scene was almost erotic and judging from the reactions of the two demons it almost could have been. Then without warning the crested demon shrieked like a giant bird, jumped up and swiped at them like a cat, leaving deep lacerations in their chests. It then retreated back and melted into the crowd.

The humans were dragged back too, leaving the two bleeding demons alone. They began to circle each other, growling and spitting. The wounds on their chests seemed to be of no concern to them.

One of them leaped into the air and landed on the other’s shoulders, it fell backwards allowing the leaper to dig its claws into the other’s chest wound and then to shred the fallen demon’s faces with its claws.

Shredded-face responded by ripping into the leaper’s stomach with both feet, and then pushed the screaming demon back. It left behind a trail of wet, steaming guts before collapsing onto the vine covered floor. Shredded-face jumped onto the fallen demon and clamped its jaws onto the demon’s neck and pulled, sending up a red shower of slime and gore.

A cacophony of noise erupted from the watching demons. Damien and Jennifer stared at each other, wondering what was next to happen. It didn’t take long to find out. The demon with the shredded face pointed at the woman who was then pushed back into the ring; she stumbled and fell face down into the crushed vines.

Shredded-face stormed over, giving her no time to recover. He dug into her matted, filthy hair and dragged her up to the crested demon. She struggled and screamed, trying in vain to escape from its grasp.

The crested demon put its paw into the air and all the other demons fell silent, it thrust its mouth right up to the woman’s terrified face and let out an ear splitting squawk.  The woman abruptly shut up. The crest on the back of its head expanded outwards like a paper fan.

Damien pushed Jen’s head into his chest. Both crest- and shredded-face tore into the woman, the surrounding demons watching the slaughter in silence.

As the two demons scattered pieces of the woman into the crowd, the defeated demon was dragged out of the makeshift arena.

Damien stroked the back of Jen’s head while watching the crested demon smear the victor’s face with blood before licking it clean. Shredded-face moved back into the middle of the ring and another demon was pushed out of the crowd. This one didn’t seem as reluctant to re-join the other demons; instead it gave the two remaining humans the once over, looked at the crested demon then roared at shredded-face.

Damien surmised that this was some bizarre mating ritual; he scanned the crowd and saw no other demon with a crest. That thing had to be the only female down there. Jen’s Uncle and his friend were about to share the poor woman’s fate, unless he did something about it.

“Jen, listen to me. We have to stop them from killing the other two.”

She looked into his eyes, her expression was unreadable.

“With your little metal stick?”

He shook his head. “Don’t you see? This is what Alan wants us to do.” He looked back to the fight. The newcomer was faring better than the other demon but he didn’t think it would be long before one of them succumbed.

“Alan can go fuck himself. The only thing I see is that if we go down there, we’ll end up dead.”

“But that’s your Uncle down there!”

“Don’t you think I  know that?” she sobbed.

Damien looked at Jen then gazed down. His eyes locked on her phone and a grin slowly formed. He dug his own phone out. It only had half a charge but it should be enough…

“Jen, is your phone charged up?”

“What?”

“For crying out loud! How many bars are there?”

Jen glanced at her phone and shrugged. “Two.”

Damien bolted over to the trapdoor and flipped it up before Jen had chance to ask him what he was doing. He fiddled with his phone, turned the torch on and shone the beam at her face.

“We can do this, Jen. Come on, let’s go save your Uncle.”

He climbed down the ladder, hoping that those fuckers were still knocking ten balls of shit out of each other. Jennifer was just above him; Damien grinned to himself, so much for her staying put.

He jumped off the last rung, feeling his feet sink into the vines. His heart was going like the clappers and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. Damien briefly wondered if the soldiers during the Great War had felt like this before going over the top. He didn’t know if his plan was going to work but it was too late to turn back now.

The demon that had chased them earlier lay crumpled at the base of the ladder, its head smashed open like a rotten melon. He reckoned they must have glass skulls. Jennifer joined him, keeping her feet well away from the demon corpse.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said.

“Do you want to stay here?”

“Of course not, I’m staying with you.”

“Well, turn your torch on and cover the beam with your hand.”

Damien nervously glanced over at the circle of demons, they were too busy watching the fight to notice them two behind them

“Are you at least going to tell me what you’re planning to do?”

He uncovered the light and aimed the beam at the black armoured carapace on the demon’s chest. The light ate into the material like acid. It bubbled up like boiling treacle, giving off thick greasy smoke. He recovered the beam and looked at her.

“We’re going to set the bastards on fire!”

The ring of demons began to howl, Jennifer glanced at Damien, they both knew the fight was over and what that signified.

“When I shout, I want you to shine the bean in an arc across their heads then run over to your Uncle.”

She nodded, and then followed him as he ran towards the circle of screaming demons.

His gaunt face reflected back off the shiny black armoured shell on the closest demon and for some reason he saw himself plunging his hand into a bowl of dirty water, desperately searching for something. Damien shook his hand in an attempt to clear the image; distractions at a time like this would get them both killed.

Jennifer was right behind him.

“Are you ready?” He whispered.

She nodded.

“Okay…NOW!”

They both removed their hands and swept the twin beams of light across the assembled demons. The result was instantaneous and cataclysmic. Black shell and flesh boiled away, greasy smoke filling the air. The demonic creatures screamed in agony and ran in all directions, two ran straight into bonfires, disappearing under falling charred wooden beams.

He saw Jen sprint towards the captive humans while he pursued a different quarry. The demon with the shredded face howled, got down on all four and sprinted like a dog towards him. Damien lifted up the torch, intending to boil away the fucker’s face but a panicking demon ran into the path of the beam. Shredded-face watched open mouthed as the luckless individual was cut in two. It didn’t stay to be the next victim; instead it turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Damien spun around in a circle, desperately seeking out his intended target, none of the other monsters had noticed the little human in their midst, they seemed to be acting like a herd of panicking cattle.

He spotted her; she was using another demon as a shield. The crested demon wasn’t alarmed. He played the light across the legs of the smaller demon; it fell to one side leaving the other one exposed. The creature growled and hissed at him, leaped over the fallen demon and charged, he lifted the phone up, aiming for the bitch’s neck; he missed and just clipped the side of her head. She stopped, brought up her paws and pressed them against her head, screeching in anguish.

The others froze, he felt a hundred pair of malevolent eyes drilling into his head, he brought up the torch beam close to where a demon was sneaking up behind him, and it shrank back, hissing.

“If any of you bastards move so much an inch, I’ll turn the bitch into charcoal.”

Jen was clearing a path in front of her while the exhausted looking men struggled to keep up. Her torch was starting to flicker. The entrance was just a few paces behind him. He glanced over his shoulder then took a couple of steps back, keeping the light trained at the female demon’s feet.

Jen’s phone finally gave out and she pelted the last few metres, the two men almost scrambling over each other to get out of the compound. The demons stayed back, none seemed willing to give chase. A couple approached the crested demon, crawling and mewling like kittens.

The younger man grabbed his hand and shook it. “Jesus, man, I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there.”

He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think they will follow us now, they look terrified.”

Jen shook her head. “Sorry Uncle but you’re wrong. They aren’t stupid; the bastards already saw the light go out on my phone.”

She leaned against a tree then jerked back. “Oh, Christ, it’s warm.”

The older man began to moan as the hoard of demons inched their way forward. Damien played the beam of light across their bodies, then his battery died.

“Bollocks!”

“Remember what happened at the flat Damien!” She put her hand back onto the trunk of the tree. “Hug the fucker, the plant will mask your own body heat.”

He watched the other two follow her advice and wrapped themselves around the trunks of two trees nearest to them. Damien looked around in panic, seeing the demons were almost through the gate. He ran up to a large tree and stood against it feeling clear, sticky resin ooze over his hair and face.

The demons ran out of the gate and straight past them. He resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

“I can’t move!” Pete shouted.

Neither could Damien. He was stuck to the trunk like a fly in amber.  There was movement above him. His eyes looked up and saw dozens of segmented pale blue tendrils coming down from the upper canopy. The tips were finished with a hollow brown needle.

Chapter Seventeen

Arthur shifted around, trying not to look at the scruffy little tramp who sat on the other side of the metal table, glowering at him. Now that his breathing had slowed down and he didn’t think he was going to have a heart attack, he concentrated on the job at hand.

He picked up the bottom of his favourite overcoat with his thumb and forefinger, trying not to touch the clear slime that covered the fabric. Arthur sighed as most of the fibres unravelled and fell to the floor as he scraped the fabric along the edge of the table.

The tramp’s dirty fingers danced rhythmic patterns upon the table surface.

“Did I not tell you about toughing stuff?” he spat.

Arthur’s gratitude at getting rescued had lasted precisely two minutes. He’d always considered himself to be a fairly easy-going guy, but this foul, sad human wreckage in front of him seemed to have found an uncanny ability to wind him up so tight that he wanted to punch him off that stool and stamp him into the ground until there was nothing left but a big red stain. He ground his teeth together.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Since when did trees try to eat people?”

“Since now!” replied the tramp.

The maddening situation was that he had no choice but to stay close to the tramp. He knew that he wouldn’t last two minutes without him around.

Everything was trying to eat each other and it all wanted to eat Arthur. Yet the flora and fauna kept its distance from the man who claimed to be Ernest; maybe it didn’t like the interesting aroma of sour sweat and rotting dog shit that clung to the bastard like Velcro.

“Come on,” the tramp said. “I’ve got something to show you.”

Arthur had been following this horrid little man for bloody hours and he was knackered. The last thing he wished to do was to continue this endless trek. He still didn’t have a clue what was going on. Ernest just ignored him, when Arthur had demanded to know where they were going. In fact, he had said more words in the last minute that he had since Arthur first met him.

He gave up on his coat and threw it on the ground. The moment it touched the floor, he watched a pair of jaws latch onto a sleeve, and then the whole coat disappeared down a small hole. The tramp walked over to the edge of the hole and picked up a brown plastic button, which he threw at Arthur and then set off without looking back. Arthur jumped off the remains of the café stool and hurried after the tramp before whatever grabbed his coat came back.

Arthur ground his teeth together in frustration as Ernest buggered off, expecting him to follow like some lovesick puppy. He still had no clue why the smelly fucker had only saved his life, what was so special about Arthur? Would he have liked the answer even if the tramp had replied?

He wasn’t the only survivor. He’d glimpsed and heard others, some shouting, others screaming, yet the bastard hadn’t lifted a finger to help anyone else.

The tramp was getting further away, almost out of sight, and Arthur knew he couldn’t go on. His stitch had come back with a vengeance, taking a few more steps would be bad enough but to keep up with the tramp would be impossible; the bugger must have Duracell batteries shoved up his arse.

Sod it. Arthur stopped; he refused to let some filthy, homeless scumbag order him about, and he was slave to no man.

A bright orange worm as thick as his ankle poked out of a hole near him, but soon disappeared when his walking stick came crashing down upon its head. The jungle around him was closing in on him as dozens of tiny yellow eyes popped open directly in front of him. Twigs snapped behind him, he whirled around. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Something very large crashed through the greenery, heading in his direction. He gripped his walking stick in both hands and held it out in front of him, hoping to God that it wasn’t one of those flame eyed monsters. Of all the things he had encountered, they scared him the most.

He lowered his stick and sighed with relief when the tramp’s head poked through the foliage. He looked as pissed as hell.

“What the fucking hell are you playing at?” He marched up to Arthur who tried not to recoil from his fetid breath. “What? Have you a death wish or something? Or are you just missing something upstairs?”

The growth shrank back, leaving the tramp standing in a perfect circle of cracked tarmac; double yellow lines ran through his legs.

“Have you any idea how much time I’ve invested in keeping you alive?”

He just lost it and made a grab for Ernest. The tramp backed off which made Arthur even madder. He lunged for him, intending to snap his neck and throw the body in the jungle.

The tramp’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. He held his hands out in front of him, palms up.

“Look, mate. I know you’re confused and upset.” His licked his thin, greasy lips and barked out a single nervous laugh. “You never could hold your temper as a kid; I should have known you’d still be the same.”

He jumped forward and grabbed his hand. Arthur recoiled from his touch, pulling his hand back and wiping it on his trousers.

“I’ll do you a deal, if you do as I tell you to.”

“Why the bloody hell would I do that?”

The tramp grinned, showing off his blacken and rotting teeth.

“Because if you don’t I’ll leave you here.”

Arthur raised his hand, getting grim satisfaction from the tramp flinching.

“I promise to answer all your questions; we just need to get away from here.”

The tramp glanced around; he seemed like a different person, more normal, or was this just an act?

“It’s been years since I’ve had to interact with other people.” He sighed and looked down. “I mean, just look at me Arthur. Who in their right mind would want to strike up a conversation with a diseased old thing like me?”

He smiled.

“Tell you what, how does a hot bacon sarnie and a nice cup of tea sound? Is it still two sugars?”

Arthur blinked.

“You must be starving and I don’t think the chip shop will be opening today. I can clear up this mess, Arthur. I know how to put everything back to how it was but I can’t do it alone. I really do need your help.”

Arthur wasn’t angry anymore, just very confused. He looked into the tramps eyes looking for any sign of deception, but he seemed so…well, earnest.

Arthur nodded, “Ok, I’ll help.”

“Great!” the tramp smiled, “Well, let’s get this deal cemented with a nice cup of tea. Come on.”

Ernest scuttled off through the undergrowth with Arthur following on behind. He had no time to think on whether Ernest was telling the truth or just feeding him a line, Arthur was too busy trying to keep up with the little man. Brief snatches of normality appeared wherever the tramp laid his feet or touched with his body, a roadside curb, half a street name, the bonnet of a police car, it all vanished back under the greenery as soon as the tramp moved and it all seemed eager to consume him when Arthur came near, probably pissed off at being disturbed. He fended off pincers, claws, suckers and needles in an attempt not to lose the tramp.

At last he stopped as they came to a tall green wall. The tramp wasn’t even out of breath.

“We would have got here a lot sooner, Arthur, if you hadn’t gone and pulled that hissy fit!”

He did wonder how long it would take before the arrogance would creep back into his voice. Arthur resisted the temptation to tell him to piss off.

The tramp waved his hand across the wall, yellow vines and other plant life receded, revealing a bright red painted shop door and a sign in the window displaying the opening times.

The tramp giggled at Arthur’s shocked looking face.

“You look like a dead fish with your gob open like that!” He turned the handle, pushed open the door and walked in. Arthur hurried in after him before the plant life had time to seal the entrance.

He gazed open-mouthed at the sight before him. After spending a full day at being dragged through a hostile jungle and seeing all traces of civilisation erased by the greenery, he never thought he’d live to see normality ever again. Arthur wasn’t ashamed to admit that he felt himself filling up.

“I’ve surprised the hell out of you with this, haven’t I?” the tramp laughed.

They were in a darkened shop, untouched by the taint of the aggressive vegetation. It was the town’s only charity shop.

Arthur wandered amongst the white shelves packed with other people’s unwanted items, the glow cast by the dozens of lit candles scattered around the shop giving the place an almost holy feel. He picked up a porcelain figurine of a ballet dancer, thinking of the fate that may have befallen its last owner.

The image of Polly’s tortured face asking him to kill her slid from his subconscious to the front of his mind. Arthur placed the figurine back on the shelf, next to a set of china cutlery and silently vowed that he would find out who was responsible for this and cut their fucking head off.

“It’s the Applewood Hospice shop. The only place in this damned town that welcomed me back after my six year absence.”

Arthur knew where he was; he didn’t need a tramp to act as a tour guide in his own town.

A space had been cleared in the middle of the shop to make room for two blue plastic chairs. Between them lay an upturned washing basket with a kettle and two cups placed on top. Ernest sat down and urged the reluctant Arthur to do the same.

“I was too late to save Mrs Harding. Shame that, considering how nice she’d been to me.” His face crunched up in disgust. “Unlike every other fucker who treated me like a pariah.”

“What happened to her?”

The tramp shrugged. “Dunno, she wasn’t here when I arrived so I guess that she was at home when this happened. As for what happened to her, just use your imagination - now will you please sit the fuck down?”

He poured boiling water into two cups. “You’ve seen what happens with the spiders?”

Arthur nodded his head. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“They’re us, you idiot. Haven’t you worked that out yet? Well, not us specifically, but the younger lot definitely.” He continued pouring. “If the demons got her then they would have killed her, raped her then eaten the body - and if she was really lucky, they would have done it in that order.”

Arthur winced in disgust. This cold hearted bastard was talking about her death like he was having a chat about the bloody weather!

Ernest’s head snapped up, spilling boiling water on the makeshift table. “I’m not cold hearted!”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Arthur gasped.

The tramp shrugged. “I don’t know, I just do. Now are you going to sit down before I really lose my temper?”

Arthur didn’t want the bloody tea now; he didn’t want anything from this creep. He tried to empty his mind and backed away while the tramp just sat there, smiling. He blinked then found himself sitting opposite Ernest with an empty cup in his hand.

“What the fuck?” He tried to get up but found he couldn’t move a muscle. The tramp leaned forward.

“I lied about the bacon butty, but I guess you’ve already figured that bit out, haven’t you? But as you are now being such a good boy, I can give you a couple of answers you so desperately crave…”

He took the cup out of Arthur’s unresponsive hands and put it besides his. The tramp’s cup was still full; it wasn’t tea in there either, more like dark green melted ice-cream.

The kettle had gone; he doubted that it had even been there in the first place.

“Stop struggling,” Ernest said. “It won’t do you any good, there’s no chance you’ll be able to move. All you are doing is pissing me off. Relax; I’m not going to hurt you.”

Arthur decided there and then that whether he had anything to do with what was happening in Holburn or not, he was still going to wring the scrawny bastard’s neck. He was humming the theme tune to the Magic Roundabout as loud as he could inside his head so he could keep his murderous thoughts guarded. Nothing he could do about it now anyway, not when the fucker had him helpless like a newborn baby.

“Okay, so you have me trussed up like an oven ready chicken. Now what? Are you going to kill me?”

The tramp dipped his finger into the green gloop and flicked the stuff onto the laundry basket. It ate through the plastic leaving a black, bubbling hole. Had that stuff gone down his neck or was the tramp playing with his mind again?

“Okay. At least tell me what the hell has happened to the town.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the tramp giggled. “I just remembered that bit you thought about killing the person responsible for this.”

He tapped Arthur on the nose. “Well, all this started because of what you did many years ago. I bet you don’t remember you and your other fuckwit friend chasing me through Holburn woods do you?”

“Never mind that,” Arthur whispered.

“Funny that, ‘cos I think about it nearly every day.”

Arthur wanted to know where he was going with all this.

“Now, I know that it was Dave Chambers who would have instigated the chase and you would have only gone along because you was scared shitless of him and thought that he’d beat you up if you didn’t go with him.”

Arthur kept quiet, whether or not the chase happened was undecided but he did remember what Dave was like as a kid and he had that observation spot on. Arthur remembered very clearly what Dave used to do when anyone refused his requests.

“But this is me thinking as an adult. At the time, all I saw were two boys, a lot older than me, chasing me and threatening to kill me.”

“Give over. Dave might have been a bit high spirited when he was a kid but he would have never hurt anyone.”

“You mean like the sheep?”

“For crying out loud man, what that got to do with anything? We were just kids, doing what kids have always done.”

“I was only eleven and this whole town made my life an absolute misery.” He pushed the full cup a little closer to him. “But that all changed on that day you two went after me. You see, thanks to people like Dave fuckwit Chambers, I was used to getting chased and I was fairly sure that I could outrun a pair of lumbering idiots but I wasn’t looking where I was going and I ended up tripping over a rock jutting out of the ground. The earth opened up and swallowed me, at least that’s what it felt like as I tumbled down.”

He rolled up his sleeve and showed a jagged scar running from his elbow to his wrist.

“Don’t be too concerned. I landed in a deep pile of rotting leaves, but I must have cut myself on something on the way down. Now I thought that you two would have just ran on by and left me down there to die,” He pushed the cup a little closer.

“But you didn’t did you? Two tiny faces peered over the top, shouting down and asking me if I was alright. If you had left me there to die then none of this would have happened.”

“Do you really think that you’d we would have left you down there? What a sad, pathetic, spiteful little man you are.”

The tramp lunged at Arthur and snatched hold of his jumper with his gnarly hands.

“Don’t you give me that condescending high horse morality bullshit speech. What do you know about anything? Living in your nice safe house and leading your quiet dull boring life. I know that you couldn’t give a shit about some minor incident that happened over fifty years ago.”

Some feeling was returning to the tips of his fingers. He kept his face expressionless and his mind blank. He didn’t want this joker to read his intentions. Hopefully, the fool would be so wrapped up in the telling of his stupid tale to notice that his captive audience would soon be no longer his captive.

“Cat got your tongue has it?” He sat back down and put his hands behind his head. “Anyway, while you two were shouting out my name - and, I might add blubbering like babies - I decided to do a bit of exploring. Apart from the cut on my arm, I was unharmed. It’s amazing just how calm I felt, the sight of blood, especially my own used to send me into a blind panic. Yet I stood there, watching my life fluid drip off my arm and splash onto the stone and I didn’t care, and you know what? When the blood touched the floor it just soaked into the stone leaving no trace.”

This was bullshit. If he was in an abandoned mine shaft or cavern then it would’ve been pitch black down there.

“I found myself in a small stone room, cube shaped it was and despite the only natural light source seeming to be the hole I fell down, I could see fine. Oh and the walls were covered in bizarre and complicated patterns.”

The tramp shut his eyes and smiled as if he was reliving the experience.

“They’re called fractal patterns nowadays, if that word means anything to you.”

“Then what?”

He opened his eyes. “You two helped me out.”

“Is that it?”

“It was for you two. I kept asking you about the incident at school but you didn’t remember. One good thing came out of it though, everybody left me alone, and then a week later the dreams started.” The tramp’s features changed. This time he genuinely looked tormented. “My blood gave those stones life, gave me gifts that I couldn’t control.”

“What about the demons?”

The tramp ignored him. It was as if he wasn’t there. Arthur now had up to his elbow back under his control, another couple of minutes and Arthur hoped the tramp would be on his back and choking on the blood gushing from his nose.

“I’d awakened something that had been sealed away for millions of years. Something that wouldn’t be satisfied with just a few drops of my blood.”

“That’s bullshit; humans weren’t around millions of years ago.”

“I know that, you tosser. This thing wasn’t built on our fucking planet” The tramp was on his feet now, pacing around the shop. “It was trying to tempt me with pretty baubles in return for more of my blood.”

Arthur decided to forgo the waiting process and grab him now; he couldn’t take anymore of this insane drivel. The man was off his rocker. He crunched his hand into a fist; it was the only weapon he was going to need against that scrawny bag of bones. The drug in the cup must be losing its potency as he could feel the strength racing into his upper arm. Oh, he was so going to enjoy the feeling of the tramp’s face caving in.

“Oi! What the hell are you doing? You dirty, sneaky bastard!” He raced over, Arthur waited up until the last minute before he swung his arm. Ernest fell to the floor and rolled safely away. Arthur screamed, the tramp was a walking dead man, he needed his stick. He brought his big meaty fist down on the makeshift table; the contents flew onto the floor, except for the green stuff in the cup, which settled over his hand like thick glue.

“What the hell?”

He tried to wipe the stuff onto the plastic chair but it just moved out of the way.

“Time to take your second lot of medicine…”

It rolled up Arthur’s arm and onto his shoulder. He shut his mouth and clamped his teeth together; the stuff was trying to slide between his lips.

“It can’t be denied entry, Arthur.”

The vile gelatinous mess bifurcated when it found the lips to be impenetrable; instead it eagerly sought out less obvious routes. Arthur squealed when he saw its intentions and slammed his hand over one of his ears but the gesture was pointless as the stuff just slithered through the cracks in his fingers and flowed into his ear; the rest of it found his nostrils.

He finally opened his mouth and screamed himself raw. A thousand miles away, hysterical laughter drifted into his undamaged ear. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced, each nerve cell scraped open then plunged into boiling oil. His agony then vanished as the stuff’s extended follicles found his brain and pumped his body full of endorphins.

Arthur sighed with pleasure. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Is that any better?”

The tramp crouched down beside him and gently stroked his cheek. Arthur trembled and sobbed when the tramp removed his hand.

“Oh, you like that do you?”

His new friend had succeeded in flushing out all those rebellious thoughts, replacing them with a languid feeling of contentment. Arthur felt just fine.

The tramp sat back down.

“You really are a naughty boy for not wanting your other medicine. You know that don’t you?”

Arthur nodded.

“Still, never mind. It’s all water under the bridge. Your nose is bleeding again, I don’t have anything to wipe up the mess so you’ll have to put up with it until I finish. Is that okay, Arthur?”

The part of the parasite that had invaded his brain through his nostrils was dying. Its delicate body was left weakened by the onslaught it went through to get to the brain unlike the section that had taken control of Arthur’s nervous system, which was getting stronger.

“It invaded my dreams, asking questions and demanding answers, it was driving me insane. It wanted more blood, my blood to be precise. It threatened to grow and consume everything in its path. Now back then, I hated Holburn and everyone in it, yet after the pictures it showed me, I was filled with a sense of horror and revulsion - so I made it a deal.”

He licked his lips. Arthur mental lethargy was beginning to lift, the scruffy man in front of him didn’t seem to notice.

“It promised to go back to sleep if I gave it just one more feast. I thought of you and Dave first but then dismissed the idea as I knew that there was no way that I’d be able to get you both back to the hole. I sacrificed my mother instead.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I went back and climbed down and removed the accumulated pile of leaves and lured my mother to the hole, I had covered it with a layer of thin twigs and leaves. I had hidden behind a tree and covered my ears and shut my eyes and waited for the inevitable but she didn’t fall in so in the end I had to charge out and push her. Her screaming as she plummeted down will haunt me forever.”

So this is why he had been rescued and kept alive - so the tramp could confess his sins to him. Arthur didn’t think his day could get any stranger.

“I can see the hatred in your eyes, but don’t judge me; I saved your life and I also saved this shit-eating town.”

Arthur surprised himself and the tramp when he uttered the words: “Didn’t work.”

“I didn’t cause this!” He shouted.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to find the room did I?”

Ernest raised his arm and found himself standing up. The tramp walked over to the door and he was compelled to follow like he was attached to an invisible length of rope. Arthur didn’t care about keeping his mind shielded anymore and let lost a cascade of abusive and venomous imagery.

“I saved your life, Arthur! I can’t believe you’d think such bad things about me. When this is over, you’ll understand and see that I’m right.” The tramp opened the door, the screen of vines shrank back showing Arthur that the oppressive jungle was still there, if anything, it had become denser. The tramp glanced back.

“I thought the two boys would have been enough to satisfy its hunger when they had awoken it.”

An orange worm poked its head out of a burrow just by the tramp’s foot, it tried to disappear back down but it wasn’t fast enough to avoid Ernest’s lightening fast swipe. He pulled it out of its hole and held it out in front of him by the neck. Tiny tentacles shot out from the underside of it and attempted to wrap around his bony wrist but those tentacles that came into contact with his skin turned black and shrivelled up. The tramp then placed his fingers in his mouth and tapped the things head with his saliva soaked fingers.

The worm swelled up then burst like a popped balloon filled with red paint, leaving the tramp holding a pigeon slick with blood and black slime. The bird was still alive. He placed it on the threshold of the door and it wandered inside.

“The effect is still contained inside Holburn’s boundaries but that won’t last long.” Ernest stamped his foot on the ground, “This thing is growing, spreading out under the ground. By this time tomorrow, the next few towns will be infected. It needs to be stopped, Arthur. Only you can do that.”

The tramp looked inside the shop, “There is one boy left; when he dies, all this will end. Find and kill Alan Tyler.”

The door closed, leaving the pigeon alone. It hopped across the dark blue carpet then spotted some plastic redcurrants on an ornamental display and raced over.

Chapter Eighteen

The first fingers of dawn’s first light spread across the alien tree canopy, Damien tilted his head back, closed his eyes and sighed as the sun’s warm rays bathed his face.

“Oh my God,” muttered Pete, “Will you look at that!”

Damien’s eyes snapped open. He stared aghast at what this foul stuff had done to his beloved town overnight.

“I’ll never complain about nettles in my flower bed ever again.”

“It’ll take more than a packet of weed killer to clear this lot,” replied Damien.

At least now that the sun had come up, the night creatures would leave them alone. He shuddered, thinking about just how many times during the night they’d come close to being eaten.

“How far are we now Damien?”

“We’re almost there, nearly within spitting distance.”

A couple of days ago, it would have only taken him just a few minutes to stroll to his front door, then again two days ago there wasn’t a solid line of carnivorous trees in-between their current location and his house. The only place where the line was unbroken was here, where they stood, by the boating lake.

There were five boats chained up down by the quay, each one painted and lacquered to suggest a nautical theme. They would have to find another route as Damien knew from experience that they had no chance of breaking those padlocks. The local council had spent a lot of money in upgrading the security of this park and those padlocks had already withstood a battering from the local bored kids and drunken teenagers.

The only other route across was the old footbridge and Damien had already proclaimed that to be a non-starter. Cordoned off and awaiting demolition, and in this new world where anything wooden was fair game, that bridge should have fallen into the lake hours ago.

Damien’s hand held onto the wooden post as he watched the old man’s skeletal form edge inch by inch over the bridge. Jennifer was almost over, thank God, and soon it would be his turn. Pete stood next to Damien, shouting out words of encouragement to his friend. Damien wished that he had known Pete before all this had happened; he seemed a decent enough bloke. It’s hard to believe that they had just had a blazing argument that ended in him almost punching the man.

Pete had asked what those metal rings on the boats were for. It surprised Damien that he didn’t know. He explained the function of the long metal pole, hooked at one end, designed to bring in any floundering boat. Pete got all excited, and told everyone that it must be stored in that shed over there; it wouldn’t take a moment to break through that door as the wood was bound to be rotten by now. He then pointed to the single yellow boat that escaped the chain and was adrift in the middle of the lake.

The others had run down to the shed but Damien had stayed put, staring at the boat and in particular the dark, still lake. He hadn’t disclosed the contents of his last nightmare to anyone, at the time it just seemed like a stupid dream. While the others crashed through the shed, looking for this pole that may or may not have been there he looked deep into the lake.

It seemed more solid than still, like a solid sheet of black glass, he had yet to see a single ripple on its surface. Now his nightmare didn’t seem so irrelevant anymore and any thought of going anywhere near that lake filled him with cold dread.

From the sound of the excited voices they had found the pole. He watched them bounding towards him but their enthusiasm wasn’t infecting him, he shared their eagerness to get away from this hell hole but wasn’t about to ignore the warning.

He should have known that they weren’t going to take him seriously, Damien expected the naked anger from the tall pensioner but not from Pete who struck him as a quiet and sensible person, he put it down to nerves. They thought that as soon as they got to the house that everything would be okay and here he was raining on their parade.

He had understood this and knew it was just frustration speaking, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to punch the man in the face. If the orange worm hadn’t poked its head out of a hole by the side of the lake, he reckoned somebody would have been hurt.

The worm never stood a chance. There wasn’t anything living in the lake, not anymore, the predator was the lake and when the orange head cleared the hole, a fountain of matter exploded out from the middle and fell on the worm, coating it like an oil-slicked seabird, the stuff pulled it to the edge then dragged it under. Damien turned to Pete and they both looked at the footbridge.

Dave had almost reached the other side. Damien sighed, he’d hoped that the grumpy bastard would slip and fall into the gloop below. He felt a hand rest upon his shoulders.

“Do you not think the bridge is rickety enough without you trying to crush the wood?”

Pete followed Damien’s glare and squeezed his shoulder.

“Try not to be too hard on the old man, I’m sure he didn’t mean it to sound like that, he’s not a bad old stick.”

Damien sighed.

“I don’t think Dave’s having the best of days,” Pete said.

Damien almost laughed out loud. “And we’ve had a good one? There was no excuse for him trying to take my head off. I know I should have thanked him earlier for pulling the blue vines off me but I was too wired up.”

“I think we all were.”

“Anyway, it was better late than never.”

Pete nodded. “I agree, his outburst was a little unexpected.”

Dave was over; Damien told Pete to go next and hoisted him over the wire fence and onto the footbridge boardwalk. After seeing the state of the underside of Pete’s work boots, the green stalks growing out of the treads, as he crawled across, Damien tried not to think about the state of his own shoes. Stalks have root systems that look for food and moisture.

He could picture Pete gasping as he took off his boot to reveal a network of tiny white roots burrowed into the sole of his foot.

“Are you okay?”

Damien jumped. He wasn’t aware that Pete had been staring at him.

“I was miles away,” he replied, not wanting to elaborate.

“Look Damien, there’s something I need to tell you and I think this will be the only time we’ll be alone.”

“Don’t even think of proposing to me mate, I’m almost married.”

Pete ignored him, watching the two on the other side of the bank.

“How do you think Dave was able to free himself from those blue vines?”

Damien shrugged; he hadn’t given it any thought.

“Dave was caught just like the rest of us but the trees rejected him; spat him out like an apple pip.”

That didn’t make sense to Damien; he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that earlier. Jen had simply pulled the vines apart like they were made of cooked spaghetti before she flew over and rescued him. He had kind of gotten used to his girlfriend being infested now. There was no way that Dave was like Jen. He would have seen the signs.

“He’s been bitten,” Pete said.

“What, when?”

“Before we met you.”

“But that’s impossible!” Damien replied. “They should have hatched by now.”

“Maybe the venom from the demon’s bite killed the eggs or something, I don’t know,” Pete shrugged. “But what I’m trying to tell you is that I think Dave knows that he’s living on borrowed time so just go easy on him, okay?”

Damien nodded, his mind still on the vines burrowing into Pete’s boot. Apparently satisfied that he had made his point, Pete continued along the bridge. He didn’t understand Pete at all. Did Dave have something on Pete? Or maybe he treated all his friends like an overprotective mother hen.

“Maybe the bite slowed the process down,” Damien said to himself. He wasn’t going to go to sleep anywhere near him, that was for goddamn sure.

As Pete clambered off the over side, the post Damien was holding began to sway and the whole structure creaked.

“Find another way round” Jen shouted. “It’ll collapse if you get on it!”

Damien looked at the endless line of carnivorous trees on either side, all the new flora and fauna out there, just waiting for him to take one careless step - and climbed onto the bridge.

He knew that it was only spit and luck holding this together and he was probably off his rocker for trying it but what other choice did he have? He inched forward, watching the stuff below bubbling up like boiling mud as if it knew that its next meal was imminent.

Oh God, this was a stupid idea. The bridge lurched to one side. Damien squealed and dug his fingers into the soft wood. He got on his hands and knees and shuffled forward, the urge to rush over was overpowering but he knew that any sudden moves would send the bridge and him tumbling into the stuff below. Every time he moved, he could feel the vibration shuddering through the wood.

He tore his eyes away from the bubbling stuff below and looked over at Jen, hoping she’d give him a few words of encouragement but there was no chance of that, she was in yet another argument with Dave.

The bridge shuddered again, and he knew that there would be no more warnings. The supports were splintering, he screamed and ran and jumped just as the entire structure collapsed. Pete caught his arms and pulled him away from the edge; he lost his balance and fell on top of Pete just in time to see Jen storming off.

He scrambled off Pete, “What did you say to her?” he shouted.

Dave just shook his head and turned away. Damien was going to rip the bastard’s face off, fuck the going easy on him, enough was enough.

“Stop it!” Pete shouted. He’d caught hold of his foot as Damien stormed past and pulled Damien back. “I’ll take care of Dave - you go get your girlfriend!”

Damien glared at the old man as he ran past him; he didn’t even notice Damien was there. Dave just continued to stare into space; the guy was out of it. Dave was a liability and Damien had the feeling that if they didn’t ditch him soon, he’d end up getting one of them killed.

He ran across the overgrown bowling green, heading for the enclosed kiddie playground. Damien couldn’t see her anywhere, where the hell was she? This wasn’t fair, why now? They had managed to keep it together all bastard night only for her to pull a trick like this.

“Jennifer!”

No answer. He didn’t understand, why the bloody hell had she run off in the first place? Jen was more than capable of looking after herself, she ought to shrug off any loaded comment some old fool like Dave would utter. It just didn’t make sense.

He caught sight of a flash of yellow disappearing around the back of the brick-built changing rooms at the top of the park. That had to be her; he was sure that she was wearing a yellow blouse under her coat.

“Jen! Wait up”. He raced towards the building, it had to be her, who else could it be?

He saw another flash of yellow but this time it was above him, close by the side of his head. As he turned to investigate, something crashed into his back almost knocking him into the brick building. He spun around, trying to dislodge whatever it was. He could feel it, trying to claw through his thick coat like a dog digging a hole. Damien reached around, intending to pull the thing off; he screamed when it dug its teeth into his fingers.

“Get the fuck off me!” The coat material started to tear; it dug faster, aware that his soft flesh was only millimetres away from its claws.

Damien turned around and ran backwards, slamming his back against the bricks. The creature popped and burst and foul smelling liquid ran down the back of his leg. He pulled his arms out of the coat and threw it onto the floor and got his first sight of the creature that had tried to drill a hole into his back.

The dead compound eyes of an insectile monster as big as a house cat stared back at him. It was segmented like a centipede with four pairs of serrated legs on either side and was covered in bright yellow hair like a bumble bee. Damien booted the vile thing across the field then watched two orange worms emerge from burrows to fight over the carcass.

Where had she gone? He heard Pete calling him from across the boating lake, but he chose to ignore him and ran around the side of the changing rooms. Jennifer was cowering by the swings whilst three of the yellow bastards took turns in dive bombing her. She didn’t scream; she wasn’t making any sound.

Damien spied a half-brick by the changing room door; he snatched it up and ran up to the swings, screaming like a madman and waving his arms, hoping that the thing would fly off.

They didn’t even flinch. He faltered, wondering just how much damage he could do against creatures who didn’t give a shit whether he was there or not. Then one of them anchored its four legs onto Jen’s back. She only had a thin cotton blouse on, and remembering just how little time it took the one on him to claw through his coat, he rushed forward and slammed the brick into its body.

This one was made of sterner stuff as the brick just glanced off its outer shell. The other two decided that Damien’s company wasn’t welcome and flew up into the air, ready to drop down on him. His time was running out.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” he whispered, then took hold of the shell and ripped the thing off her back. Its serrated legs took most of the material with them and left deep ugly green gashes all the way down her back. He snarled in disgust and stamped down upon the creature’s tender underside, cracking it open like a rotten egg.

The other two creatures snarled at him before flying off. He saw Dave and Pete running towards them; Pete had the hooked pole in his hands. It seemed that the cowardly yellow bastards didn’t like the odds anymore.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, they’ve gone now.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and she responded by shrugging him off.

“Christ Jen! What have I done wrong?” He grabbed her shoulders and this time he spun her round. He saw now why she had been unable to respond.

A hard plate of bone had sealed up her mouth, growing over her cheek and covering one eye. He launched himself at her face, desperate to pull it off.

“Jesus, man!” Pete said, pulling him back. “Are you trying to kill her? It isn’t like a plaster or scab, the bloody thing has deep roots.”

Damien shrugged him off.

“When the demons held us prisoner,” said Pete. “There was an old dear with us and her face was like that.” He pointed at Jennifer.

“Some fellow had the bright idea of trying to pull it off just as you were going to. The old woman’s blood just pissed out of her when he managed to get off a tiny piece. The demons ripped him up good when they saw what he had done.”

Damien pushed past Pete and prodded Dave in the chest.

“This is all your fault!”

Pete growled and pushed in between them. “Can’t we keep it together?”

“Why is it my fault?” demanded Dave. “You can’t blame me for that!”

“Can we continue this at a later date?” Pete snapped.

They both ignored him.

“Well, you must have done something, I saw you having a go at her!”

“Are you two fucking blind?” Pete pointed at the sky. There was a large black cloud heading towards them. Thousands of the yellow flying abominations were heading towards them at high speed.

Somebody pushed him violently forwards; for one horrific moment, he thought another one of the things had landed on his back.

“Don’t just stand there gawping,” cried Dave. “We don’t know where you live.”

Damien shook himself out of his reverie, grabbed his silent girlfriend’s hand and pulled her towards the dry stone wall that bordered the park and the road.

He didn’t dare look back; Damien didn’t need to see that the flying things were still closing in, the cacophony of the creatures excited shrieking filled his ears.

They weren’t going to make it; those things would be on them in seconds. Jen squeezed his hand before pulling him off the track, he didn’t resist when he saw where she was leading them.

A clump of carnivorous trees growing apart from the main line already had their vines up in the air and snatching up the odd yellow monster that strayed from the pack. He risked looking back; the other two stuck to them like glue and that cloud had also turned.

Jen pulled him from the tree perimeter, towards the centre. Would the trees bother with table scraps when there was a banquet just above them? Well, they were about to find out. She stopped beside an enormous trunk and flung her arms around him and held him tight, she motioned Dave to do the same to Pete.

The excitable shrieks soon gave way to screams of terror as the flying things flew straight into the waving blue tree vines. The prospect of an easy meal was soon forgotten as the flying monsters found they were fighting for their very lives as the ravenous trees reached out and plucked them out of the air. The trees wrapped their vines around the bodies before pushing the hollow tipped spikes into their tender underbellies. The tree drained them dry before allowing the dry husks to crash through the forest canopy and shatter on the ground.

They stayed silent while the casings fell around them, not daring to do anything that might alert the trees to their presence.

It wasn’t until the ground beneath their feet started to move that Damien remembered that danger wasn’t just from the air. He tapped Jennifer.

“We need to move, sweetheart.”

Scores of orange worms pushed up through the earth, crawling through the remains of the creatures and picking off any scraps of flesh still stuck to the shells.

Damien had seen them take live food and didn’t think that they’d be content with scraps when they realised that there were solid lumps of human flesh hiding amongst them.

Dave looked over to Damien, “What if those things are still out there, just waiting for us to emerge?”

“He’s got a point.” added Pete.

Damien watched the vines slide back down and shook his head. He untangled Jen and took her hand. “Stay here, then.”

Damien wound his way through the shells, not caring if they were following him. As he reached the tree perimeter, he saw the remaining things high up in the sky and following the tree line. He wondered if they were restricted by the boundary between the tainted town and the rest of the countryside.

Jennifer tapped him on the shoulders and Damien turned, his jaw dropping at the sight before him. The other two had followed them out and stood transfixed as well.

Damien was back home. His house and garden stood untouched by the invasion, but the houses on either side had gone. Overgrown, pulled apart and demolished. The only evidence that anything had even been there were small mounds of green covered earth.

The ground under Damien’s feet began to move; he hoped that the worms hadn’t decided to come after them after realising that their next meal had escaped. He wasn’t about to stand around and find out. He took one last look at the bizarre landscape, astonished that they were still alive, and ran towards the garden gate.

Dave and Pete reached the gate before him. He watched the old man walk through his mother’s flower bad, trampling the delicate stems and petals into the loose soil, not caring, not giving a shit. Damien wanted to kill him. Jennifer squeezed his shoulder and shook her head, the state of her face helped to defuse his fury. She dragged him up the garden path, seemingly more eager to see Alan than him.

Pete thumped on the door a few times and Damien saw Dave pick up a white painted stone.

”Put that fucking thing down!” he shouted.

Dave dropped the stone then staggered back, pointing at the sky. The flyers were back and this time they had brought reinforcements - the sky on the horizon was black with them. Damien ran up to the door, pushed Pete out of the way and pushed down the handle. Oh hell, the sodding door was locked. He lifted the letterbox.

“Alan! Open up, come on man!” He looked back; saw the fliers were landing just outside the garden fence. Jesus Christ, there were thousands of them.

“Come on, Alan!” He continued to bang on the door.

“He’s here,” whispered Pete.

Damien looked up, seeing the light in the kitchen come on. The key in the lock turned and the door swung inward. The fliers that had landed began to moan and sway. Alan seemed surprised to see them.

“Thank God you’re okay,” said Damien who went forward to hug his brother but was pushed into the door frame by Dave rushing into the house.

“Shut the door, man,” said Dave.

Damien looked through the kitchen window, unable to work out what the things were doing, why weren’t they attacking? Alan was acting like the horde of yellow killers weren’t even there. The other three squeezed past him and settled down in the living room. It sounded like Pete was crying.

“Alan, will you please shut the door!”

His brother just looked at him, confusion plastered all over his face. “But I haven’t mown the lawn yet”

He looked at his brother in disbelief. The lad was serious. He placed both hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“That isn’t important right now, Alan.”

“How come the lights are still working?” Dave asked. He’d re-entered the kitchen, reached over and picked up an open packet of biscuits lying on top of the bread bin. Jen grabbed his collar and pulled him back into the living room.

“Wait, Jennifer!” shouted Alan.

She responded by spinning around and walking over to him, her eyes glazed over, she wasn’t even looking at him. Damien realised that it wasn’t a request but a command.

As he stroked her face with the back of his hand, the lights dimmed then went off altogether.

Damien shook his head from side to side, feeling that a veil of certainty had just been lifted, leaving him for the first time full of doubt concerning his brother’s motives. He no longer saw him as a victim of change but an instigator of all this - which led him to the question of what he, had planned for him.

The bony shell lost its grip and fell onto the floor tiles. Jennifer grabbed Damien’s hands and hugged him tight while sobbing.

“Oh God, oh God. Thank you for not leaving me.”

He buried his head into her hair, she smelled like she had been through a pile of rotting leaves. Underneath, he could still detect the faint whiff of her perfume. He looked at Alan who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Has it gone? Did you get rid of all of it?”

He nodded. Jennifer wiped her eyes and tried to hug Alan who jumped out of the way and shook his head. Jennifer shrugged, used to his odd behaviour.

There was something niggling at the back of Damien’s head, something important but like the fragments of a dream upon waking, he was unable to grasp it.

“Does anyone want to watch me play Alien Holocaust? I’m on the final level.”

Damien’s hand found hers and this time it felt as smooth as it should have been. He forgot about his previous thoughts; it didn’t matter now that his Jen had been returned to him.

“Okay, that’s it. Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Dave had thundered back into the kitchen, empty biscuit wrapper in hand that he dropped on the floor.

“Help yourself to my biscuits why don’t you?” muttered Damien.

Dave looked over at Alan. “What about you, kid? Are you able to give me some answers?”

“What is your problem?” asked Damien. “You’re warm and safe, you have my biscuits. What more do you want?”

He stared at the old man, towering over him with his puffed out chest, his dominating attitude and the crumbs around his lips. Dave was used to getting his own way, at being in charge and now he felt out of his depth, powerless. Damien knew all this, he understood that the man was scared stupid and was just lashing out but it didn’t stop him from wanting to hurt him.

Damien saw Pete’s shadow wander back into the kitchen, he’d probably heard the commotion and getting ready to apologise for his friend yet again. Jennifer rested a hand on his shoulders.

“Leave him be,” she whispered. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Are you going to answer me, kid?”

Alan blanked him, acting like he wasn’t even there. Damien saw the colour rising in Dave’s face but didn’t say anything, respecting Jennifer’s advice.

“Holy mother of God!” Pete exclaimed. “Look at that!”

Other strange creatures had joined the flyers. There were only a few at the moment but more were swelling the ranks. They just stood there silent and still, watching the house.

“Okay, everybody into the living room,” Damien said. “Keep away from the windows.”

Damien caught Alan as he went past. “What are we going to do?”

Alan smiled. He put the game case on the top of the microwave then pulled out a pair of new gloves from his pocket. “We are going to save the apple trees.”

Damien didn’t have a clue what he was talking about; he looked back out the window, watching more creatures arrive. When he turned back, Alan had joined the others in the living room.

Alan walked up to Dave, while clenching and unclenching his gloved hand.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Dave shook his head. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“We’ve got to leave him down here. Have you any idea what they do to child killers in prison, Arthur?”

Alan’s voice was the perfect imitation of Dave’s. The old man went white.

“No way,” he whispered.

“What the flame eyed devils take away…” he placed his hand on Dave’s stomach.

“…I give back. Consider it my gift to you.”

Dave arched his back and screamed. His stomach expanded, the buttons on his shirt popped. He ran out of the room and into the kitchen. Damien heard the front door open, yet he couldn’t move until Jennifer dragged him to the kitchen door.

“He told me what he was going to do to him,” she said. “He wants you to watch.”

He saw Dave through the window, rolling about on the lawn in absolute agony. The creatures were howling and shouting. Dave convulsed, his stomach burst apart, spraying the neatly manicured garden with stringy green gore and thousand of tiny spiders. Alan walked up to the window and watched the spiders desperately trying to escape from the garden.

“I could have spared him but I chose not to. He helped to kill my two friends.” He looked at Pete. “He would have killed you too.”

He faced the window and closed his eyes. The ground beneath Dave opened up and he fell into a writhing sea of orange worms. The hole closed, leaving an ugly crater.

“Mum will be so pissed when she sees the state of the lawn.” Alan murmured.

Chapter Nineteen

Where was that tramp taking him? Arthur wanted to know where he was. A few minutes ago, his journey was seen through a translucent red liquid mask but even that drug like effect had been denied as the blood that had collected in his eyes congealed and dried.

Not everything was able to move out of the way as the tramp crashed through the thick forest. The green flexible shoots and vines shrank back but more established plants with their thick woody stems and branches couldn’t go anywhere. This didn’t bother the tramp as he just ducked underneath but Arthur didn’t have this option.

His body was still under the control of the tramp - he couldn’t even blink, so consequently the hard thorns and rough bark transformed his face into a network of deep cuts and welts as he blindly followed his master.

The tramp’s power over the man’s body went deeper than just controlling his limbs; he had turned off his ability to feel pain as well. Something Arthur was thankful for. He would have gone insane by now if he had felt every branch and stem that smacked him in the face and body, not to mention the strain his body must be under from the tramp driving him hard for the past hour.

Arthur’s legs lost their inertia and he slowed down, coming to a stop. Were they here? He wished he could see. The tramp approached him muttering, he couldn’t make out a single word but he sure did sound scared. He thought some feeling was beginning to return to his extremities, he sensed that the tramp was about to lose control of him again.

He was able to blink the dried blood out of his eyes just in time to see Ernest fall to his knees and scream at the sky. All feeling returned with a suddenness that almost made him cry out loud, he could not yet feel any pain but he didn’t question his good fortune - he just took off in the opposite direction before the tramp realised that he had taken flight. He’d rather take his chances with the alien jungle than hang around to see what Ernest had planned for him.

Arthur raced through the trees, following the path that he had already trampled down. He sensed that the effect was only limited to the Holburn area so the most sensible course of action would have been to get the hell out of town but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He didn’t know where he was anymore; every familiar landmark had gone. The only option left was to head back to that charity shop and see if he could barricade the door in case that insane tramp followed him. It was the only place he knew that was safe from the wildlife.

He put on an extra burst of speed when the manic sound of a very pissed off tramp reached his ears. He screamed out Arthur’s name, demanding that he return. Arthur took this as a good sign. The tramp didn’t know where he was; perhaps the smelly bastard would fuck off and find someone else to persecute. He doubted he’d be able to catch him anyway, he couldn’t believe how fast he was going; he felt he could run forever.

The tramp’s voice got fainter and fainter, he didn’t think that he was about to give up just yet but Arthur didn’t care anymore; there was no way he could catch him. Then from out of the blue, an enormous wave of nausea crashed into him. He ground to a halt and put his hand against a tree to stabilise himself.

Sticky resin flowed over his hand and pale blue vines uncurled and slid down towards its latest victim. Arthur was in too much distress to even notice what was going on, he felt like his insides were trying to climb out of his throat. He bent over; gagging as thick, gelatinous jelly oozed out of his mouth and fell to the forest floor. The material was now a dull grey and looked diseased. Arthur’s brain shut down, he collapsed beside the stinking mess that his body had ejected.

Arthur’s eyes shot open shocked to find he was still alive. The tree’s resin had dried on his hand but the tree itself was nowhere to be seen. He formed a fist, watching the stuff flake off. How long had he been out for? Hours or days, he had no way of knowing. Arthur touched his face and winced, he still felt like he had been through a meat grinder.

He scanned the landscape, the place was as silent as a tomb, he could see none of the ultra-aggressive flora that had been so prolific earlier on which would probably explain why he hadn’t been eaten whilst dead to the world.

Then he saw the shop, it was right behind him. Arthur almost choked on the absurdity of it all. It stood alone; all the vines had been removed, revealing a pristine looking building. Apparently the Applewood hospice shop was open for business.

Arthur turned the handle and the door swung open. He wasted no time in getting inside the shop and shutting the door, grinning at the sight of the two enormous bolts at the top and bottom of the door, he pushed them both home.

Mrs Reed may have been a believer in charity but she was also, it seemed, a great believer in security as well. Once the bolts were secure, he sat down against the door and forced himself to relax. The view helped. There was still no sign of any of the new plant life growing in the shop and with sunlight streaming through the window, the place felt like an oasis of normality.

The only thing in the shop that displaced normality were the still-lit candles. They should all have been a cold, solid lump of white wax by now, instead of looking like they had just been lit. Even so, he was reluctant to extinguish them.

He looked around the shop, remembering that he’s dropped his walking stick in here.  The damn thing had to be somewhere. He wandered into the middle of the shop and sat down on one of the chairs; he was so concerned over the whereabouts of his precious stick that when something brushed up against his shoe, Arthur screamed and almost wet himself. He looked down not knowing what to expect.

Arthur resisted the urge to giggle when he saw the pigeon. He almost booted it across the room but stopped himself; after all, this was another link to his old life.

Things may have looked pretty grim but he hadn’t given up hope yet, despite all that he had seen in the last couple of days,; there was still no doubt in his mind that rescue was still imminent. In another few hours, those army trucks and police cars would be charging into Holburn, complete with men with flamethrowers. He nodded to himself. Those alien plants wouldn’t stand a bloody chance.

All Arthur had to do was to sit tight and wait for them to get here. He was safe in this shop, at least unless that bloody tramp came back. Where was that walking stick? Arthur knew that he’d feel a lot safer if he had that in his hands.

“Have you seen my stick?” he asked the pigeon.

The bird hopped onto a cardboard box full of coat hangers then flew onto the cash register, then crapped on the desk.

“Is that your final answer?” Arthur sighed and wandered over to the till. The pigeon watched him approach but didn’t move away.

“Well, ain’t you the cocky bastard.” Then his eyes caught sight of something familiar lying on top of a pile of old paperbacks. It was his walking stick. Arthur grinned and grabbed it. His grin fell off his face when he saw something odd stuck to the handle. There was a price label on it.

This could only mean one thing, the tramp must have known that he was going to escape and come back.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered.

Arthur shook his head. No, he refused to believe that. The tramp was furious when he lost control of him; the last thing he would have been expecting was for Arthur to come back here.

He peeled the sticker off and read it. There was a message on the paper, not a price. It said…

‘I can’t help you anymore so hang in there. By the way, my mum loved your homemade burgers.’

His mind was in too much of turmoil to try and work out what that meant, so he stuck the price label on top of the cash register, sat down against the door and placed his stick beside him. He had made up his mind to wait this out and he wasn’t going to move for anyone.

The pigeon flew down from the counter and landed on the tip of his shoe. If the bird was expecting him to feed it then it was in for a disappointment.

“I’m sorry little man, but I’ve nothing for you.”

Arthur reached into his trouser pocket and was rather surprised to find an old dog biscuit. He crumbled it up between his fingers and made a little pile between his feet.

“Are you going to leave me alone now?”

The sudden rattling of the door handle and frantic banging against the door scared the hell out of him. He reached for his walking stick.

“Let me in now!”

Arthur considered ignoring the tramp but that would make him look like a scared little mouse.

“Piss off! If you try to come in here, I’ll snap you in two, you vile little man.”

There was no response, perhaps he had gone.

Then he heard the letter box creaking open.

“Okay,” said the tramp, his voice full of disgust and scorn. “I can do this myself. I don’t need you anyway. Oh, before I leave you, why don’t you look at the top corner above the counter? Can you see it?”

Despite himself, Arthur did look up. He saw the wallpaper hanging down, revealing a dark patch on the wall; a couple of bright green mushrooms pushed up through the plaster.

“I don’t need this place anymore. I reckon it’ll take about twenty minutes for the place to succumb to the wildlife.” The letterbox dropped down.

“And if the greenery doesn’t kill you,” shouted the tramp, “Then the guilt will! It’s time for you to remember what you did six years ago.”

Arthur felt his eyelids closing.

How could his day turn to shit so quickly? Oh Christ, those things, whatever the hell they were had begun to stir. They were going to wake up at any moment. Arthur tore his gaze away and looked over at his friend. The man looked petrified. That wasn’t a good sign; big Dave wasn’t scared of anything.

The things stopped moving and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Arthur noticed two knives lying beside the two creatures, one of them had its leg over a handle. Arthur couldn’t reach them anyway, his left hand and leg were manacled to the stone wall, they might as well have been a million miles away.

Even at this distance, he could see just how sharp those knives were, just the kind of instrument he would have used himself to joint a pig. It had been four years since he’d last dissected a full animal but he still hadn’t lost the eye. He suspected that he would have trouble getting through the skin on those animals though; it looked thicker than rhino hide.

He looked around the rest of the room. Ignoring Dave for the moment, his eyes came to rest upon a desiccated human body lying in a pile at the bottom of what looked like a mine shaft. At first he thought it might have been the creatures’ last meal but dismissed that idea as the thing looked decades old – covering the body was a large faded dress. Arthur wondered who she was…

“Where the bloody hell are we?” his friend whispered. “What the fuck happened?”

Arthur would love to know why Dave was asking him, like he had all the answers. He glided his hand over the patterns carved into the wall. They were so intricate; he had never seen anything like it.

“The last thing I remember is talking to you in the park - then this tramp came over and started to beg for money.”

Arthur nodded. He remembered that too.

“Then I wake up chained to this wall next to two sleeping crocodile things.”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed.

“What are we going to do?”

Arthur shook his head. He didn’t have a clue, he tugged at the chain holding his arm to the wall, and one thing for certain was they weren’t going to be able to pull these free.

“We’re being sealed in!”

Arthur looked over at the alcove and saw pieces of dirt falling down.

“Who’s up there?” shouted Dave.

The man ignored all Arthur’s attempts to shut him up then something else fell down, a lot larger than a piece of dirt.

A heavy cloth sack landed on the dried up body. For one second, Arthur could have sworn that he saw a grubby finger sticking out from a tear in the cloth.

A man dropped down and landed beside the sack. It was the tramp who had accosted them for money earlier.

As soon as Dave saw who it was his whole demeanour altered. The old Dave slipped back into view. He went wild.

“Get me out of here!” he snarled. “Or so help me, I’ll rip your fucking spine out.”

The tramp ignored Dave’s insults and dropped the sack in between the two creatures. Arthur watched him work as he cut open the sack, hoping that the two creatures would wake up and rip the tramp to pieces.

The exposed sack revealed yet another one of those nightmarish creatures.

“What are you going to do with us?” Dave demanded.

The tramp pointed to his chest, his face a picture of innocence. “Me? I’m not going to do anything.” He walked over to the shaft of light.

“I’m leaving now.” He pointed to the three sleeping creatures. “These monsters are always ravenous. The first thing they’ll do is look for food. Look at the size of their teeth.”

He grinned, exposing his own rotten teeth.  “I think you can guess that they don’t eat plants.”

“Let us go, you bastard.” Dave said while tugging at the chains.

The tramp stood in the alcove. “I’ve left you two knives. You had better use them while they are still sleeping. You two fuckers won’t stand a chance if they do wake up.” He looked over at Arthur,

“You are a butcher so carving them up shouldn’t be that hard.”

“I’m chained to the wall, you crazy bastard!”

The tramp smiled and nodded then started to float up the shaft. “I haven’t forgotten.”

He clicked his fingers and the chains disappeared. Arthur rushed over to the shaft and looked up, just in time to see the tramp’s feet climb over the lip at the top.

He tried to climb up but couldn’t get a grip on the mud walls. He wondered if he could use the knives to carve some deep holes to use as hand holds.

“Dave? I’ve got an idea…”

He turned around to see his friend staggering back, his chest drenched in blood.

“You heard what he said Arthur. It’s either them or us.”

One of the knives was buried in the neck of a monster. The stones glowed where the blood had splattered against them.

The other demon was on its feet and edging towards Arthur growling, frothy saliva dripping off its scimitar-like teeth. He stepped back until his back was pressed against the wall. Arthur looked down and found that he now had a knife in his hand; that couldn’t be right, he didn’t remember picking it up.

The monster roared, then leaped into the air and impaled itself onto the knife. The body fell against the stone floor. Arthur stared as the monster disappeared; leaving the fragile body of a child.

“Oh God,” moaned Dave. “What have I done? They were just kids.”

Arthur looked in horror at the child by his feet, the kid he had just killed. He dropped the knife and ran into a corner and threw up. Dave was still muttering, he got up and saw Dave staring at the shaft. There was now an old ladder bolted to the wall.

“Help me get them up that ladder, Dave.”

He shook his head.

“This never happened, right?” Dave licked his lips. “We’ve got to get out of here, block up the hole and forget we were ever down here.”

Arthur stared in disbelief at his friend.

“We need to go to the police, Dave!”

“Are you fucking crazy? Do you want to spend the rest of your life inside? Have you any idea what they do to child murderers in prison?”

The body in the sack started to moan. Oh God, Arthur had forgotten about him. He rushed over and pulled the sack off the kid’s face. He looked back to Dave.

“This is Margaret’s eldest. We’ve got to get him out of here.”

He was still out cold, but apart from a few cuts and bruises, he seemed to be ok.

Arthur picked the kid up and slung him over his shoulder then walked over to the alcove. Dave was already halfway up the ladder.

“You can’t bring him, Arthur.”

“But he’ll die down here!”

He descended and stood over him. “He’s a witness. He’s staying.”

“But the lad’s still alive, Dave! It’ll be murder!” Arthur felt he was looking into the eyes of a stranger. “Look, the lad’s out cold, he won’t remember what happened. You’re right Dave; we’re too old to go to prison.”

Arthur knew he was babbling.

“We’ll dump him away from the hole then come back and cover it up.”

Dave nodded.  “Ok, but if he does wake up, I’ll throw him back down the shaft.” He climbed back up the ladder, leaving Arthur to deal with the unconscious child. He had no intention of keeping quiet. He’d almost got to the top when Dave reached over and took the kid off him; for one moment, he thought he was going to drop the kid back down.

He had to lie to Dave, he was a big fellow and if he was willing to let an innocent kid die down there then there was no telling what he would have done to him. He hauled himself over the lip, wondering if he could secretly drop something bright to mark the spot, when he heard the sound of slow clapping.

The tramp was standing next to Dave, his once best friend had his eyes closed and appeared to be asleep.

“Well, I must say, Dave surprised me. He doesn’t appear to have a moral bone in his body, not that it matters, the willing sacrifice has been made.”

“What are you talking about, you freak?” Oh God, he wished he still had that knife in his hands, he’d push it straight into his eye. Arthur clenched his fists, he’d settle for breaking his face instead. The tramp shook his head and vanished.

“It’s time for you to forget” said a voice by his ear.

Arthur jerked awake. He was lying on the floor of the charity shop, still against the door, it must have gotten dark outside as the only light came from a couple of candles that were still burning.

He looked down, seeing a big orange worm curled up in his lap, it appeared to be purring like a bloody cat…Oh, Jesus, and he felt his mind coming lose again.

He started to silently cry. Shedding tears for the life he’d taken all those years ago. He knew that the events in that room had been orchestrated, those two boys would have died down there even if he had seen through the tramp’s illusions. He reckoned Dave would have seen to that.

The door against his back was now as soft as a wet bath sponge and the vines had re-covered all the windows, it wouldn’t be long before the wildlife found him. He started to stroke the worm then barked out a laugh. What was he thinking? It already had.

After what Arthur had done, he should allow the wildlife to consume him; he deserved to die for his crimes. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the rotten wooden door, thinking that maybe somebody in the afterlife would forgive him.

A familiar sound broke through his lethargy, the tapping of nails upon glass. For one brief moment, he thought he was back in the hospital. He opened one eye and saw a pair of flame coloured eyes staring back at him through a glass door that led into the Staff Only area.

As the demon pushed open the door and stepped into the room, Arthur wasn’t sure that he wanted to die after all, certainly not in the jaws of a dirty, filthy black devil. It stood over him then tilted its huge, armoured head.

“I like your stick, granddad!” It sounded like its mouth was full of gravel but the words were unmistakeable. “Can I have it for my girlfriend?”

He remembered the worm turning to a pigeon and back again and looked at this towering monster in a new light. Could this thing really be what remained of that mouthy kid who squared up to him in the woods?

“I was ready to go,” he muttered. “Ready to lie back and be taken and fate goes and shits in my face yet again.”

He stroked the worm one final time before grabbing it with both hands and flinging it in the direction of the devil. The worm, furious at being disturbed, bit into the first thing it touched. Its teeth, designed for grinding up rock made short work of the chest plate.

It didn’t even have time to react before the worm had burrowed deep into its body. It crashed backwards into some white shelves before sliding to the floor. Arthur got to his feet and booted the thing before picking up his walking stick and padding over to the open door.

All thoughts of ending his life had left him; he was going to see this through to the end and the end was him putting the tramp’s severed head on the end of his stick.

He used his stick to nudge the door open, cautious for anything else that may have been tempted to leap out at him, but he needn’t have worried as the place was deserted. He scanned the room, ignoring the piles of dresses and jigsaw boxes and focused on the large hole punched through the far wall. A sick yellow glow emanated from beyond it.

Arthur’s stomach rolled as he remembered the room’s stones going like that when the kids’ blood fell on them. He looked back, watching the worm emerge from the top of the devils head, munching its way through the body like a caterpillar going through a leaf. He held his stick out in front of him and walked to the hole.

Chapter Twenty

He couldn’t stand the oppressive silence any longer. Damien rose from his mother’s chair and stormed into the kitchen. Nobody commented on his abrupt disappearance, they probably didn’t even notice he’d moved. Pete sat by the living room window, lost in his own thoughts and Jennifer hadn’t stopped glaring at Alan ever since the incident with Dave.

He picked up the discarded biscuit packet and put it in the bin, remembering how often his mum used to bollock him for leaving stuff lying around. He had already asked Alan if he knew where mum was, expecting the worst news, but his brother wouldn’t say, in fact he had evaded the question all together.

The creatures beyond the garden had increased in number; he felt their eyes on him as he moved across the kitchen. Was his mother out there? Was she one of those things, wanting to shred him and his friends? He shook his head. Alan wouldn’t have allowed that. If she had started to change, he would have stopped it just like he did with Jennifer.

He wanted to go back into that room, drag his brother in to the kitchen and shake him and demand some answers - what the fuck was going on and where was his mother, but he knew he wouldn’t. The image of those things bursting out of Dave’s stomach was still fresh in his mind. He was scared of his big brother…no, he was absolutely terrified of him.

He looked back out of the window and shivered, wondering if Alan really could kill the next person who pissed him off. He had no doubts that his brother had the strength to persuade them to walk up that garden path and throw themselves into that multitude of arms and claws and still be smiling while the creatures pulled them apart. He shook his head and wondered back into the room.

Alan was pacing across the carpet, holding a necklace close to his chest, his eyes shut tight. Damien looked over at Jennifer who shrugged back. His brother fell against the chair; Damien rushed over and helped him up. Alan opened his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He threw the necklace into the bin and sat down. “Vile, vile thing”.

In the moments that he had been out of the room, Alan had changed; he seemed more animated, more human.

“Do you remember Claude Barraclough?”

Damien was unlikely to forget that name although he never thought he would hear it uttered again in this house. Claude was one of the boys that had disappeared. He was one of Alan’s mates.

“Bits of him were discovered in Holburn woods yesterday morning.”

Damien had been waiting for this to happen for six years. He had never believed the story that Alan told everyone else about his two friends running away.

“Who found him?”

“Arthur Wright,” said Alan. “The same man who stuck a knife into his stomach all those years ago”.

“That’s bullshit!” shouted Pete. “Arthur wouldn’t hurt a bloody fly.”

Alan waved him over and Damien felt an invisible force pushing him back. This was the moment, thought Damien. This was when Pete gets thrown to the creatures.

“He didn’t mean to do it, Pete. Arthur’s mind had been clouded. As far as he was concerned, a red eyed monster leaped on him, he was only protecting himself like anybody would.”

“You’re not making any sense,” said Pete.

Alan stood up. “It doesn’t have to make sense, you just need to listen to what I say and do it.”

His and Pete’s eyes were locked, it was like watching a snake charmer hypnotise a snake.

“Do you understand what you have to do?”

Pete nodded. He turned and walked up to the front door.

Damien was stricken. “Pete! What the hell are you doing?”

Damien couldn’t move. Pete opened the door.

“Oh God, Pete, don’t do it! Jen! Stop him!”

Pete walked out and shut the door. He seemed to be smiling.

“Oh Christ man, what are you doing this for? Why kill him? The fellow saved our lives!”

Alan shook his head, looking genuinely confused at his brother’s outburst. “He isn’t going to die. Now that I made the other one lose control, it’s time for Pete to bring the last lost soul in.”

Damien found that his limbs were no longer frozen, and he rushed over to the room window, watched Pete move through the plants and animals alike; they all parted as he walked through them unharmed.

As Pete vanished from sight, he turned around, meaning to ask his brother where he was going when he noticed that Jen was no longer in the room. He looked at Alan.

“Where’s she gone?”

His serene face dropped and he leaped out of the chair and into the kitchen with Damien right behind him. She wasn’t in there either and the door was still locked. Alan walked up to the cellar door. His face was a riot of emotions.

“I’ve fucked up Damien, oh shit, I’m sorry.”

Damien pushed past him and wrenched the door open.

A sick yellow light illuminated Jennifer who was stood at the bottom of the stairs. A huge demon had her in a headlock with its paw covering her mouth.

“Get off her you fucker!” Damien shouted.

The demon looked up and laughed back; its face was a mess of dried blood and scabs. It was shredded-face.

Jen bit down on one of its claws and it growled and slapped the top of her head. When she choked back a sob, Damien launched himself down the stairs only to be stopped by Alan who pulled him back. The demon fled down a glowing tunnel. Jennifer’s screaming faded.

“What did you stop me for?”

“Don’t talk stupid. How long do you think you’d last against it? It’s me they want, not you.”

“It’s going to kill her.”

He shook his head.

“No it isn’t. If it wanted her dead then it would have gutted her while you were watching. I’m supposed to follow it.”

Damien knocked Alan’s hand off him. “Fuck you!” He turned and marched down the stairs.

Alan grabbed two torches from a shelf above him and caught up with his younger brother.

“You knew about the tunnels didn’t you?” He grabbed Alan’s shirt and shook him, it felt good. “Answer me, you bastard!”

Before Alan could respond, the house above them shook as every window exploded inwards. Shrieks and screams of every living creature outside reverberated as they tore the house apart room by room in their search to find them.

“It’s okay,” said Alan. “They won’t come down here.”

Damien shrugged; he couldn’t care less now and all he wanted were some straight answers.

“Answer me Alan or so help me, I’ll carry you up there and throw you to them.”

“Of course I knew about the tunnels.” Alan stepped over the rubble and played his beam along the tunnel wall; intricate patterns carved in the smooth stone reflected the light back. “These tunnels have been growing and expanding throughout Holburn for the past couple of days.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled meekly, “It’s what I’ve been waiting for. Now come on, Damien. We can’t let it get too far in front.”

He followed his brother through the hole in the cellar wall. Damien gazed in awe at the dense patterns in the stone; he had never seen anything like it. He moved closer, but his brother gently pulled him back.

“It’s best if you don’t look at them too closely. Look, I’m sorry about what happened with Jennifer. The bastard had the drop on me.”

As they got to an intersection, Alan pulled a chain out of his pocket, held it tight against his chest and closed his eyes.

“This way,” he said, turning left.

Damien was sure that he’d thrown that in the bin. Despite his brother’s warning, he reached out and rested the palm of his hand upon the wall. Regular, rhythmic vibrations travelled from the stone up through his arm. It evoked images of huge Morlock machinery buried deep underground.

“Nothing human built these walls, Damien.”

He turned around and, with some reluctance, removed his hand, feeling like he’d just been given a static shock.

“Who built it them? Not aliens, surely” He tried to laugh at the absurdity but failed. After what he had experienced over the past couple of days, the foundations of what he believed in were very shaky.

His brother grinned. “After what you’ve gone through, why do you discount the idea of alien life?”

“You aren’t joking are you?”

“Their ship crashed here before we even evolved.”

Damien attempted to touch the wall again but his brother took his arm and placed it on by his side.

“So we’re in the middle of an alien invasion?”

Alan shrugged, “It ain’t quite what Hollywood imagined, is it. The ship is terraforming the planet,”

“Why now?”

“Fifty years ago, a little boy was chased through Holburn woods by two older boys. He tripped and fell down a hole and landed inside a chamber. He must have cut himself because his blood woke this ship up after eons of slumber.”

Damien stared at the engravings etched into the walls, wondering what they meant.

“This machine was overjoyed at being found, but something was wrong. The one that had awoken it was all wrong, flawed. It was a mutation, so the machine tried to re-write the little boy. Now the kid thought he was going insane when he heard the voices in his head demanding more blood; the poor lad must have thought that demons were trying to possess him. The kids who chased him nearly ended up dying, but in the end it was his poor mother who he pushed down that hole. It would have ended there, and he would have died in the institute where he had spent most of his adult life, taking the secret with him.”

Damien tried to take in what he had been told, tried to imagine just what madness that little boy must have endured to end up killing his own mother.

“So why didn’t it end there?”

Alan sighed. “Because six years ago, three little boys found a big hole in Holburn woods and decided to explore.” He stopped talking and became statue still.

“Are you ok?”

After a moment, he blinked and coughed.

“They were trying to get into the tunnels,” he said. “We’re vulnerable out here in the fringes, we need to keep moving.”

Damien caught up with Alan as he rushed through the tunnels.

“Claude dared me to go down and like the idiot I was, I took him up on the dare. I wasn’t doing too badly until I caught my foot on something and slipped. I could have broken my neck but I was fortunate to land on something soft, but I didn’t escape unharmed as my arm was bleeding quite badly. Just like that kid all those years before me, my blood awoke the ship.”

Damien could hear the things running through the tunnels. “Can we get a move on?”

His brother nodded. “The voices spoke to me as well”. Alan started to roll up his sleeve. “No thoughts of demonic possession and satanic pits from the child of the video game generation.”

“Jesus Alan, I can see why you kept this quiet.”

“The only reason you believe me, though, is because what you’ve gone through.”

Damien tried not to look too guilty. “Can we get a move on? They’re getting closer.”

Alan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.” He exposed his upper arm, at first Damien thought they were tattoos but then he realised that they were the similar patterns as the walls.

“The machine tried to re-write me too, alter my genetic code so I would become more compatible with the original creators, only it got confused. It brought the man back so it could compare. It teleported Ernest Davenport two hundred miles from a secure institute where he was in a permanent drug-induced coma due to his psychotic behaviour straight back into the chamber. At first Ernest thought he had died and gone to hell.”

“What’s this got to do with Dave and that other bloke?”

Alan didn’t answer at first; he looked beyond him, squinting into the distance.

“Look, there has been a slight change of plan, Damien. These things will be on us any moment.” Alan pushed the necklace into his brother’s hand.

“I’m afraid you will have to get Jennifer yourself.”

Damien shook his head, “You are joking right? What am I supposed to do against the thing that’s holding her?”

“The same as you did when you rescued Dave and Pete.” He placed the necklace over his head and gave him the other torch. “This will give you limited protection; it will also guide you to her.”

Alan turned and ran back the way they had come leaving Damien wondering if he’d ever see his brother again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Pete must have travelled a good couple of miles since he’d left the house and even from here, the violent cacophony of shrieks and howls made him go cold as a sudden sound exploded behind him. He put on an extra burst of speed, desperate to put as much distance between him and those creatures as possible.

He had no idea if they would be able to follow him. As he crashed through a thin curtain of yellow vines, he figured that a blind man would be able to follow him considering he was ploughing his way through this weird jungle like a fucking bulldozer.

Pete stopped when he came to a moss covered boulder, thinking it would be an excellent spot to look around for any familiar landmarks. As he scrambled up, he wondered how Alan had lost control of the animals. He told Pete that he had been drawing them to the house like a lodestone, effectively clearing the surrounding forests of wildlife.

The view from the mound was of little use. Apart from the rooftop of Alan’s house and a distant church spire, he could see nothing familiar. Pete climbed down and faced up to the fact that he was lost.

It’d all seemed so clear back at the house when Alan issued his instructions. He knew the exact location of the target; he even knew how long he would be staying there. Pete hadn’t questioned just how Alan had known all this stuff; he just took it for granted.

Now that he was away from the safety of the house and Alan’s calming influence, things didn’t seem to be so clear. He ducked beneath some undergrowth when a flock of yellow flyers passed overhead. He was so glad that he wasn’t still on that mound.

Time was short. Alan had made sure that Pete understood that and that he needed to rush, but where to? Alan’s insistence that he should keep mobile ran through his head like a bloody mantra but he fought it. If some of the wildlife was returning he would have to watch where he put his foot so that it wouldn’t get bitten off. The flyers hadn’t hung around and Alan’s mantra became ever more urgent, but he couldn’t remember where the hell he was supposed to be going, it was like grasping at smoke. Pete growled at the frustration and he jumped at the sound of his own voice.

It also startled another creature that had been creeping towards this oh-so-juicy piece of food for the last couple of minutes. Pete heard the noise behind him and rolled out of the undergrowth. The huge spider sprang at him, frantic not to let its food get away.

Pete watched in horror as five hairy legs dragged the bloated body out from the greenery, its other three legs just bloodied stumps. He almost felt sorry for it until it raised two legs and sprayed out a stream of white fluid, Pete jumped out of the way but some of the stuff still managed to splash onto his leg. It was ice cold and numbed his leg from the thigh right down to the toes.

The thing was almost dead and only had half of its legs but it was still eager to eat him. The spider lurched forward, its legs reaching out, one catching the fabric of his trouser bottoms and pulling him over. It dragged him closer, its fangs dripping yellow liquid.

There was no way that he was going to end up like Dave. He punched it on the head but it hardly felt the blow. Pete reached behind him, his grasping hands finding only leaves.

The spider had him by three of its legs now, reeling him in like a fish on a line. Pete’s hand brushed against something cold and hard half buried in the leaf litter. He dragged it out, the sun glinting off the silver surface. He sat up and swung it in an arc and took off two more of its legs. The spider let loose a high pitched screams and attempted to drag itself back.

Pete scrambled out from under it and booted the vile thing with his good leg. The spider turned round and spat at him. Pete saw that it was beginning to change; its face had undergone a partial transformation. Human like features bubbled out from under its arachnid shell. Oh fuck, he recognised the face. It crawled back into the undergrowth, leaving two wet, pink frothy lines leaking from where its other legs had been severed.

That face had belonged to Mrs Wilmington. She had been buying parrot food from him every Wednesday for the past five years.

Pete had a road sign in his hands; he turned it over and laughed out loud when he saw the street name. Worthington Street. He used to park his car here every day before they built the supermarket. He was just behind his pet shop. Alan’s directions cleared, the lad wanted him to get to the other side of the road.

As he jogged past the shop’s entrance, he thought about just how much time he had spent in there. Considering how much of his life had been consumed by the pet shop, he should have broken down in tears at the sight of the devastated shell but he felt nothing, to him it was just another ruin.

Pete looked at the road and sighed, wondering how he was supposed to get across there. Those tiny green lumps he had last seen pushing up through the soft tarmac had grown into tight clumps of carnivorous trees, making the way impossible. The blue vines hung down, almost touching the floor; there was no way he could get through that lot. Further down the road, one of the flyers had been stupid enough to get within the vine’s reach, a couple of vines held onto it while others teased open gaps in the creature’s cartilage shell.

Pete looked at the road sign in his hands and he wondered just how tough the tree stem really was. They grew fast, faster than anything he had known so he doubted that it would be solid like proper wood. He guessed that it would be more like giant celery.

He took off his shirt and wrapped the material around one end of the sign. The cool air felt good on his chest but he still felt uncomfortable with having his upper body exposed which was bloody ridiculous considering the circumstances. He saw a small tree growing a little further down from the main clump and jogged over to it. If that wasn’t there, he may have just enough room to sneak through. The vines didn’t seem very long which helped.

He took a deep breath and swung the sign back.

“It’ll be just like cutting through those spider’s legs,” he said to himself. “Like a hot knife through butter.”

Pete thought of coiled springs and put all his strength into the swing. The road sign dug in halfway and stopped. The tree’s vines slivered down and coiled around the metal before he had time to retrieve it. His shirt slid off the metal sign and tumbled to the floor. He watched in disbelief as an orange worm emerged from a burrow at the base of the tree and tugged it into the hole.

“I’ll get you for that!” he shouted. There was a fire axe at the back of the shop; the shaft wasn’t wood but cold, hard steel so it wouldn’t have been bothered by all this stuff.

Pete turned around and stared into what was left of his beloved pet shop and wondered if venturing inside really was such a good idea. The yellow vines were busy chewing holes in the stones, the wood was bound to have gone by now which meant that the upstairs would now be downstairs burying everything anyway, so what was the point in looking? Then again, what choice did he have?

He approached the shop with caution, alert for anything that might jump out at him. Pete stood before the wall with his heart in his mouth trying to convince himself that he was being careful. Who knew what would be lurking in the dark.

“Bollocks, Pete. You’re hesitating because you’re scared.”

He scooped off some of the wet, green slime coating, surprised to find the glass beneath was now pitted and scarred like burnt plastic. Not even glass would make it in this brave new world.

From what he could see, it didn’t look too bad. The upstairs hadn’t collapsed just yet. God, he was still hesitating. What was wrong with him? He walked to where the door used to live, even the frame had disappeared.

Pete stepped into the shop, trying not to breathe in the spores that still floated in the air. He would only be here for a few seconds; the axe would still be in the same place. Pete rushed in determined not to look into the cages but he got halfway before his curiosity got the better of him.

The cages were full of dead animals but no species he recognised. Corpses of what looked like fat purple worms occupied the bird cages. He closed his eyes and turned away, not wanting to see anymore. He knew he shouldn’t have looked, it was far too upsetting. He hurried over to the store room, knowing he would have to get out of here soon; this place was beginning to destroy him.

He pulled away the yellow vines, certain that the axe would be here somewhere, looking for any glint of metal amongst the green and yellow. His fingers were stained from the pus that burst from the thin stems but he didn’t even notice, and he was too focussed on digging that axe out.

The scrape of a chair made him pause and look up, wondering if he was hearing things, and he turned around. A huge demon sat on the chair, leaning forward, its lantern eyes burning holes into his face.

Pete dashed to the door but the demon was faster, it leaped over the desk and blocked his escape with its black armoured body. It grinned at him and licked the tips of its sharp teeth.

Pete was rooted to the spot, paralysed with terror when it spoke.

“Hello boss,” it said. “I thought you’d show your backside here.”

He couldn’t believe it; this monster was Andy fucking Grayson. He pulled his eyes away from its nightmarish face and saw that it had a silver chain wrapped around its black, scaly neck. Just like the one that Alan was playing with.

The demon lunged forward and grabbed Pete’s arm. It pulled him closer then wrapped its huge talons around Pete’s neck.

“I’m going to squeeze your neck until your eyes pop out. The rabbit thing made a noise like a dog toy then its eyes popped out.” It tilted its head. “I hope you do the same, that’ll be funny.”

Pete’s vision went grey as the Andy-demon slowly applied pressure. It was too late to get the torch out of his bloody pocket. He slapped ineffectually at the creature’s stone-stiff arms. His strength was failing, he was about to pass out. The thing that used to be Andy pulled him closer, its cavernous jaws opening up. Pete’s flailing arms caught the chain around the creature’s neck and with the last of his strength; he ripped it off the demon.

The Andy-demon dropped him. Pete collapsed and crawled slowly to the store room, expecting the thing to jump on him and finish him off.

Crying, choking, he rolled into the alcove and shut his eyes. The blood in his brain felt like it was boiling. He took in a great lung full of air; his throat feeling like the insides had been coated with broken glass. He still had the chain in his hand, which he tried to throw across the room but a link caught on his little finger. He used his other hand to dislodge it but then the medallion fell into the palm of his hand and his fingers automatically closed around it.

Strength flowed into him, fuelled by a lifetime of frustration and disappointment; Pete’s temperature rose, he refused to take this shit any longer. He saw the handle of the axe close to where he had been searching, his hand reached up and he pulled it from the tangled vines.

It felt so good to have a weapon in his hand, and he had a better use for it now. He got to his feet and looked over at the Andy-demon. It was stood with its back to him, trying to pull one of the worms out with its thick claws. Pete raised the axe.

“Oi! Fuckwit.”

It spun around, its astonished expression swiftly changing to one of murderous hate. It roared then charged.

Pete swung the axe but it glanced harmlessly off the armoured breast plate. He didn’t let this deter him; he was too consumed with rage.

“Terrorised by my dad!”

The next blow hit the creature’s arm with no visible effect.

“Bullied at School!”

He swung again. The Andy-demon moved back missing the blow.

“Bullied at work!”

The axe head cracked the carapace covering the creature’s stomach. It howled in agony and staggered back, through the shop doorway.

Pete howled back, then used the axe as a pole and pushed the creature into the waiting trees. The vines slid down and slivered over the struggling Andy-demon, it took mere seconds for them to sense that their food was already wounded. Three thin vines broke through the cracked armour and slid into the soft flesh beneath.

Pete looked at wonder and in disgust at the medallion in his hands then flung it into the trees. He squeezed through the distracted vines without giving the dying Andy-demon a passing glace.

The building he was supposed to explore was a discount Pound shop, which used to be the town’s only butcher’s shop. The building was in a marginally worse state than the pet shop. Only the shell of the shop remained, its walls carpeted by the ever-present growth of plants.

Pete stood by the open doorway, this time his torch was in his hand. He wasn’t going to be caught short this time. He entered the building and played the beam of light across the walls. Something caught the light; he swung the beam back and it landed upon the face of an old man, who was holding a cut-throat razor against his cheek.

“Jesus, man!” shouted Pete. “Don’t do it!”

He rushed into the interior towards the man but was too late to stop him from drawing the blade across his cheek, the razor cutting deeply. He even heard the metal scraping against the bone.

Arthur didn’t seem to be in any discomfort. He placed the razor gently on the floor and Pete kicked the vicious looking thing across the floor and kneeled beside him.

“God man! What the fuck are you doing?”

“Watch!” whispered Arthur.

“Why are you trying to kill yourself? After all we’ve been through?”

“Hush boy.” Arthur held up a piece of broken mirror to his face. Pete gazed at the flap of flesh hanging down to his chin. Green fibrous tendrils whipped out from both edges of the wound and closed it up, knitting together and leaving a faint green scar.

“I’m sorry, boy…”

Pete jumped back, “What the fuck are you?”

Arthur held out both arms, criss-crossed with dozens of green scars.

“We’ve been running around the town like frightened rabbits, thinking that we are survivors in some great disaster.” He pulled up some yellow vine coming up through the crumbling floor tiles. “But we’re no different from this.”

He threw the stuff away and looked at Pete while grinning.

“I see mockery in your eyes son, coupled with a healthy dose of confusion. Will you not sit down? I won’t bite.”

Pete remained standing. The old man or whatever it now was had clearly lost his mind. Why was Alan so determined to get Pete to bring him back? He must have known what condition he was in.

“I came here to die, Pete.” He rubbed his thumb over the scar ridges on his arm. “But he won’t let me.”

He leaned over.

“He’s inside me head even now, seeing you through my eyes and screaming at me to kill you and feed you to the trees outside.”

Pete had heard enough. There was no way he was taking him anywhere. Arthur shot up and grabbed Pete’s arms.

“I thought I‘d given the fucker the slip. How wrong I was. The only way I’ll escape him is to die. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To kill me.” The man licked his lips. There was hope in his voice.

Pete shook his head. He wanted to get out of here.

“Please,” Arthur begged. “I can’t do it myself!”

“You might not be human anymore, mate, but what you are asking me to do is still wrong.”

Arthur barked out a laugh. “No wonder I saw mockery in your eyes! You haven’t worked it out yet, have you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Arthur let go of his arm and passed him the piece of broken mirror. Pete looked at him puzzled.

“Look at your neck.”

Pete held it up. There were four deep, dark green grooves down the side of his neck where the Andy-demon had tried to choke him. They looked like fingers squashed into wet clay. Pete dropped the mirror.

“You’re no more human than I am, Pete. Don’t you see? Nobody in Holburn is human now. We are all servants, willing or unwilling to those two who have set themselves up as Gods. The only question is - whose side are you on?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

This must be it, the original chamber that the little boy had fallen into all those years ago. Damien skirted past the dried-up body, peered into the alcove and looked up the shaft. What little light that was able to filter through the vine-choked passageway was tainted with an unnatural sick green. Tiny purple mushrooms grew from where the vines had left gaps.

If Alan was right and there were countless miles of tunnels under Holburn then they could have taken Jen anywhere. But he felt deep in his bones that this was the place where they would end up.

Damien rested his hands against the walls. The vibrations were getting stronger, and then the whole chamber shook, throwing him to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?”

A voice in the shadows answered him. “Did your lying brother not tell you what was about to happen?”

Damien moved away from the alcove, trying to work out the direction of that voice.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s almost time, Damien.” An old man stepped out into the light on the opposite end of the chamber. Jesus! Damien had walked right past him.

“You haven’t figured it out yet have you, Damien?” Ernest said.

Jennifer was pushed forward, a large demon’s paw wrapped around her throat. Damien wasted no time, he rushed the monster. Ernest raised his arm and Damien flew backwards and slammed into a wall. He slid down to the floor, feeling like a pile of boneless rags.

“You are the last one, my friend…”

Damien tried not to throw up. Despite the agony he was in, his back was soaking wet and he knew that it wasn’t sweat. He managed to get back on his feet. He wanted to know where his brother was, he was going to have to play for time. If they wanted him dead, they would have done it by now.

The demon kept squeezing Jennifer’s neck. She was doing her best not to cry out. Damien so wanted to kill that son of a bitch and he knew he could. His torch was still in his pocket and it would slice through the dirty thing like a hot knife through butter. It was the scruffy bastard he had to watch out for, he was the power. Damien forced his hatred back down.

The tramp smiled at him. “Waiting for your brother to rescue you are you? Isn’t that sweet. Your brother is already here.”

Damien couldn’t believe his eyes when two more demons stepped forward, holding Alan securely between them.

“I guess you should feel proud that you are the only human left in Holburn.” The tramp stepped up to Damien and lifted the torch out of his pocket.

“Arrogant child. Do you think you can hide your intentions from me?”

He threw the torch against the wall.

“You are my blood sacrifice Damien. You should be honoured.”

Tears were pouring down Alan’s face. The tramp saw Damien’s face soften and he stormed over to Alan.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for your brother! He’s the biggest betrayer of them all!”

He ordered the demons to spin him around. Once his back was facing Damien, the tramp ripped Alan’s shirt, revealing a long knife taped to his back with silver gaffer tape. He ripped the knife away and threw it towards Damien.

“He thought he could get you to push that into your heart for love!” he spat.

“Well I have a better proposal. Kill yourself and I’ll let the girl go. I’ll even let your brother go, even though he has betrayed you.”

Damien bent down and picked the knife off the stone floor.

“Don’t do it Damien. He’s lying!”

Ernest slapped Alan’s face. Damien ran at the tramp, ready to push the knife into his face but before he even got close, Damien found himself thrown back to the ground, his blood soaked shirt sticking to the floor. The tramp held one hand out and flicked his finger upwards, and like an unwilling puppet, Damien stood up facing the tramp, the knife hand inching closer to his heart. Damien couldn’t move anything; the tramp had taken complete control of his body.

“Now, I could just get you to slowly push the blade in myself and it would hurt - a lot - but it just isn’t the same. Now, give yourself to me, boy.”

Damien couldn’t believe that it had come to this. It was so fucking unfair.

“Do it now, boy, and I promise you that she’ll go free. The flame eyed devil wants her, you know. Do I allow it to violate her whilst you watch?”

Tears were pouring down Alan’s face. “Sorry little brother. I love you.”

“I love you too,” replied Damien.

The pressure holding his body disappeared. He found he could move his upper body. The first thing he did was drop the knife.

“Look behind you!” cried Alan.

The floor was wet with his blood, soaking into the stone.

Patterns were forming, patterns that looked like swarming black ants. The tramp screamed and hit Alan again. The pattern moved onward and expanded, and within seconds it reached Alan.

Damien’s brother sighed and the demon behind him flew backwards like a bullet and shattered against the wall.

“Kill her!” shouted Ernest, “Fucking kill the bitch!”

It raised its talons to obey but before the talons came down, the chain around its neck was pulled off from behind.

Arthur pushed Jen out of the way and embraced the demon in a bear hug. At the same time, Alan grabbed the tramp by the hair and threw him to the floor before running over to help Arthur. But he was too late to stop the demon biting into Arthur’s head.

“No!” screamed Pete.

Ernest snatched the chain off the demon that held Alan and ran to the shaft with Damien in pursuit, but Damien caught his brother’s arm and pointed behind him. The two demons had Pete cornered against the wall and were advancing. Ernest grabbed the ladder and disappeared up the shaft.

Alan snatched up the knife. “Hold out your arms.”

Damien shook his head.

“Damien, I can fix it all, but I need your blood. You’re the only one who isn’t infected.”

Damien heard Pete moaning as the demons got closer.

“Hold out your arms and close your eyes.”

Damien looked over to Jen, who nodded back. He did as he was told and felt two ice cold lines drawn down his arms.

His eyes shot open and saw all the walls in the chamber were alive with moving random patterns made of tiny black dots. They made his eyes swim. His blood was still splashing onto the floor but it wasn’t flowing out any more.

He looked into Alan’s eyes, “Is it over?”

His brother took a deep breath. “We’ve stopped the expansion but it isn’t over.” He pointed at the still forms, lying on the floor of the chamber.

Damien ran over to Jennifer and grabbed her hand. She felt like a slab of cold beef. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” He whispered.

Alan put his hands on Damien’s shoulders. “You’ll have her back soon, you just have to be a little patient. Look at the walls.”

Damien saw that they were now smooth.

“The machine stored copies of everything before the change. I’ve instructed it to restore everything.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t it over?”

“The machine’s been activated, the signal’s been sent.”

“Oh god, you mean the builders of this ship could still exist?”

Jennifer groaned. Damien watched the others slowly start to move.

Alan nodded, “We’ll soon find out.”

The End

Third Sight

Chapter One

The instant the dog’s lead was released from its collar, the little white terrier shot off like a furry bullet. It headed down the dirt path towards a patch of blackberry bushes dominating the north side of the field.

Rita Hepworth gasped. The road behind the bushes was always very busy this time in the morning. She consoled herself that, even if he did try to rush through, he would likely not get far. Rita remembered getting caught up in the  thorny creepers as a kid, whenever she had gone blackberry picking. The branches grew to be like barbed wire.

Still, Jasper was a Jack Russell-cross and she’d already discovered these past three weeks that the little bugger could find his way through the smallest of holes.

Rita considered calling him back, but there would be slim chance of the manic hound paying her any attention; not until he had tired himself out.

This was the first time she’d let him out of the house and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get him back on the lead even if she were to wave a big, juicy steak in front of him.

Jasper skidded to a halt by the bushes, cocked his leg against a boulder, marked it, and then scooted towards the shell of a burnt-out car further down the field.

Rita sighed, rolled up the lead and shoved it into her pocket. It would be a while before she’d need it again.

Considering the pain, stress and money the animal had put her through during the past few weeks, it still amazed Rita just how fond she had grown of the mutt. The only reason she was out here at all was because she’d come downstairs this morning to find that  the dog had chewed several holes in her kitchen’s lino. Well,  it was something else that her son, Stephen, would have to sort out when he came round tomorrow.

Ruby’s loss had left a gaping hole in her life. Stephen’s misguided solution was to buy her another hound, as if some annoying, yapping puppy could ever replace her beloved black Labrador, Ruby.

Rita was no spring chicken anymore; her days of running after manic dogs were long gone. She sighed, watching Jasper rush from one bush to the next. Ruby had never left her side, even as a puppy.

She’d forgotten all about this patch of spare ground until this morning. She felt it odd, considering it was only a few streets from where she lived. Rita must have passed by here nearly every day on her way into town, yet she’d often ignored the overgrown wasteland, acting as if it didn’t exist.

Rita stared at the broken ground, trying to remember if she’d ever brought Ruby here. She looked up toward a row of stone–clad, semi-detached houses, built at the edge of the land. Yes, she remembered now. Rita had brought Ruby here just once; the puppy wouldn’t even go through the gate and into the field. She had whined, howled, and pulled at her lead. In the end, Rita had to carry the dog through the gate. Ruby had responded by purging her bladder, soaking Rita’s new coat with hot urine.

“How could I have forgotten?” she murmured.

Poor Ruby had been terrified of this place. Ruby had always been such a sensitive, gentle creature, and something in here had obviously spooked her. Strange how her new dog was the complete opposite to her old one. Nothing seemed to frighten Jasper, and unlike Ruby, Jasper didn’t get on with anyone. He wasn’t at all impressed with her best friend, Mrs Naylor.  Speaking of which…

Rita glanced at her watch, expecting it to be past eleven. She balked when she saw it was almost one. That couldn’t be right. Rita felt as though she’d only just arrived at the fields. Oh, this was not good news. She’d agreed to meet Mrs. Naylor at two.

There’d be hell to pay if Rita turned up at the bus station café late. Mrs Naylor would insist on shoehorning Rita’s tardiness into every conversation.

Jasper’s wagging tail stuck out from beneath a pile of plastic bin bags.

“Come along now,” she shouted. “Mummy needs to go home.”

The dog’s tail wagged faster, but he didn’t emerge from beneath the bags. Jasper showed no indication of returning — not when there was still exploring to do.

There was no point in running after him. He was a puppy and would just think it  a game. At this rate, it’d be teatime before she got him home.

There was one option left. Rita took the lead out of her pocket and jangled it in front of her.

“It’s time to go now, Jasper.”

She turned and walked back along the dirt path towards the gate, hoping that when he saw her leaving, he’d panic and bolt after her.

A single bark and a rustle of plastic erupted from the far side of the field and she smiled to herself, pleased that she wouldn’t have to suffer the wrath of Mrs Naylor. Any second now, her little doggy would come running up and start dancing around her feet, demanding to know where they were going next.

She was within sight of the black-painted, steel gate, but the damned hound still had not come back. This was becoming tedious; she’d almost run out of patience with him now.

Rita turned away from the gate and tried to see where Jasper was..  There was no sign of him.

“Jasper?”

A white head popped up above some long grass, then darted towards a clump of evergreen bushes.

“I won’t tell you again, you naughty doggy.”

Jasper ignored her.  He reached the bushes and barked continuously before running inside them.“Just you wait until I get my hands on you,” she muttered.

The dog was making tremendous noise.  If he had caught a rabbit, Rita hoped it would escape. Jasper might be small but he could be a vicious little sod; the next-door neighbour’s cat had found that out last week when she tried to climb into the kitchen.

Suddenly his barking cut off. Rita paused in front of the bushes, wondering if she’d be able to catch him if he shot out of from behind the greenery.

A frenzied shriek blasted from the interior of the bushes. She rushed through the foliage, wondering  if he’d cut himself on some broken glass.

Her heart nearly stopped in utter shock when she saw what was happening to her dog. Jasper was suspended three feet from the ground, wrapped up in what looked like paisely-coloured plant roots.

It looked like a writhing mass of elongated worms.  They were suffocating her dog. A muffled yip emanated from within. The roots started to change colour from white…to pink…to red.

Rita rushed forward, wanting to stop the vile monstrosity from feasting on her dog.

But her feet would not move.

Rita jerked her head down, not believing what she was seeing.

Dozens of finger-like roots pushed through the loose soil and spiralled around Rita’s tan hiking boots, anchoring her to the spot. She gawped in utter horror as more roots burst through the leafy soil. They wound around her legs, tearing through her trousers as if the fabric was nothing more than wet tissue.

The creepers which held her helpless  dog released. Jasper’s body fell, hit the ground, and exploded like dried mushrooms, filling the air with a thin crust of particles. Those same creepers then rushed toward Rita.

Before they managed to fasten themselves around Mrs. Hepworth’s face, her heart, thankfully, gave out.

Chapter Two

Do you know what I think? I reckon that our supervisor has been on company courses on how to piss folk off. Hell, I bet he’s even won trophies. There’s only fifteen minutes left before the shop shuts and here he is, sending me out on a fool’s errand to try and locate the store’s great wanderer.

He just stepped out from nowhere with that annoying grin plastered over his mug and uttered the immortal words, “Can you do me a favour?”

I should have scarpered there and then, damn the consequences. Nothing good ever came from those words, especially from Laurence’s gob.

How the hell did he manage to make it sound like a friendly request as opposed to an order? Maybe it was that irritating smile of his? Well, I’d have likened it to more of a sardonic rictus as he didn’t really have a face built for happy emotions.

Laurence did his Sergeant Major about-turn and marched toward the staffroom door before I could even throw out my reply.  I’m guessing he’d already figured out what I was about to say.

Apart from a couple of greasy-looking kids gawping at the football match on the televisions in the Visual Media Department, the floor was empty. I glanced over to the enquiry desk and noted, with little surprise, that Debbie was absent from her post. Laurence had made it impossible for me to put out an annoucement for Kevin.

I sighed in defeat and slouched towards Kitchen Appliances. It was too late in the day to get riled up over yet another of Laurence’s childish games.

My “esteemed” workmate, Kevin, was skiving away the last few minutes of his shift; I knew that and so did Laurence. But Slaphead didn’t have a bloody clue where Kevin was holed up so he was using me to sniff him out. Kevin was going to be mega-pissed-off in a few seconds, but it was tough shit. He ought to have waited for me, like we agreed at lunchtime.

I walked up to the two big silver American refrigerators, well-aware that the bald goon would be watching my every movement on security cameras, and peeked between the two monsters.

“You took your time, boyo,” said Kevin, not glancing up from his task.

I had to laugh at what a sight he was. The lad was wedged tight between the two fridges, using all of his skill and concentration to construct a roll-up. I considered giving him a swift tickle, just to see what he’d do, but in the end my cowardice won out. Kevin was six-foot-two and built like a bear, with a shock of red hair balanced on his uneven head. His response to a tickle was likely to be a punch on the nose.

“So, did you lose the old fucker then?”

I paused for a moment before answering. “Not really.”

He muttered something under his breath. I didn’t catch any of the words but it didn’t take a genius to work out that none of them were pleasant.Kevin completed rolling his cig before giving me an accusing look.

“And just what the bloody hell are you doing in there, lad?” uttered a slightly wheezy voice from the other side of the fridges.

From what I could see through the narrow gap, Laurence wasn’t doing a good job in controlling his emotions. I think he was trying to look surprised and annoyed, but to me he just looked like he wanted to take a crap. I looked behind me, trying to gauge just how fast he must have run to get from the security room to here.

“Hello there, Laurence,” replied Kevin, as casual as you like, acting as if this was a perfectly normal situation. “So you’re inquiring why I’m between two fridges?”

“Don’t take me for a fool, boy.”

“A customer just informed me that two kids were fucking about somewhere round here, I was just taking a quick goosy.”

“What about the cigarette? You do know that it’s gross misconduct to smoke on the shop floor.”

“Oh this?” he replied, acting totally surprised to find it in his hands. “This ain’t mine, I just found it. I was just about to put it in the bin.”

The excuse went down like a cup of cold sick. Laurence was absolutely steaming; he hadn’t expected such a quick comeback. Kevin might’ve looked like a cave troll crammed into a uniform but he wasn’t a total idiot. I’m guessing the supervisor wanted to add a couple more misdemeanours to whatever else Kevin was supposed to have done (which could be anything from not smiling at a customer to looking at Laurence in a funny way).

“Adrian, go help the lads get the shutters down.”

“Yes, boss.”

Kevin squeezed out of the side I was on so Laurence would have to walk around. He winked at me.

“I’ll see you in five minutes, Ade.”

I waited until our supervisor had caught up with Kevin before I padded over to a double row of washing machines and bent down as if to tie my laces. Laurence was in too much of a tiz to notice me still hanging around.

“Ok, Kevin, playtime’s over. To my office!”

“But, Laurence, the shop has nearly shut. I dare not miss my bus.”

His voice had gone up two octaves. I slammed a hand across my mouth.

“If I’m late home my father will beat me.”

I had to beat a hasty retreat before my giggle-fit gave away my position. Kevin’s dad was no larger than a hobbit and looked as thin as a  scarecrow on a crash diet. I watched Kevin follow the bald fool down to his office where Laurence would no doubt launch into one of his famous verbal attacks designed to demoralise, then turn you into a good little robot slave. I silently wished Laurence the best of luck with that one.

It was almost time for the store to close. Debbie had magically re-appeared at her desk and was about to give out the usual, polite “bugger-off all you customers” message. I supposed that I really ought to go do what he’d ordered me to do. I suspected that Laurence didn’t really need me outside and said that just to get me away, but you never could tell with him.

“Where’s he taking Kevin?”

The voice belonged to Chantelle, one of our checkout operators. She’d been the topic of many recent fantasies at lunchtime in the staff canteen. Not from me, though. Don’t get me wrong, the girl is gorgeous, but if my girlfriend, Donna, found out that I’d been ogling the girls at work, my life wouldn’t be worth living.

I watched the back of Kevin’s red hair disappear before I turned to the girl and shrugged. “I’m sorry, lass, but I haven’t a clue.”

She looked at her watch. “Shit.”Then she scribbled something on the back of a Kit Kat wrapper and passed it over. “Give that to him,” she said. “And tell him to ring me tonight.”

She hurried off, leaving me gobsmacked, with her mobile number clenched in my hand. Oh, this was unreal, just how long had Kevin been doing the dirty with her? And, more importantly, when was he going to tell me?

I wandered through the front doors and into the bright sunshine, suddenly  guilty for hoping that Laurence would give him a verbal warning and that perhaps Kevin’s golden charm would one day get him into a shit-load of trouble.

I had no intention of helping Trevor and Sahib with the shutters now .The way I was feeling, I’d just end up starting an argument. I saw them by the General Manager’s parking space trying to get one of the shutters to lock. It might seem childish like a spoilt brat who just found  his best friend with his hand in the sweetie jar. Considering I’m seeing someone. That’s the problem, so is Kevin. He’s been seeing a lovely girl called Sami for the past year and she thinks the sun shines out of his arse.

If she found out what he was really like then I suspect she’d probably try hacking off that infamous smirk of his (along with a certain other part of his body).

It’s not that he doesn’t care about Sami –  he loves her very much - he just doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong.

The two lads didn’t need my help, after all. Most of the shutters were now down, so it seemed pointless going over there. I decided that I may as well clock-out, grab my coat, and wait for Laurence to finish chewing-out my friend. As I reached the main doors, something small and white flashed past me. At first I thought the two lads had spotted me and were throwing stuff in my general direction, but they were still struggling with the last shutter.

It was a dog; a small white terrier hobbling towards the corner of the building. Hobbling wasn’t quite the right word for it, though; it was moving like all of its legs were encased in plaster. I chuckled to myself. It was the weirdest thing I’d seen all day.  I couldn’t wait to tell Kevin. Then the dog stopped, swivelled its head a hundred and eighty degrees, and winked at me. The dog turned its head back round and walked its odd walk until it disappeared around the back of the building.

The cold January sun chilled me and I shivered as if I had just stepped out of an ice-cold bath. Had I really just seen that?

No, I couldn’t have done, it was just a product of my fevered imagination, or maybe I was seeing things due to lack of sleep or something.

Who am I kidding? I’m not blind and I know what I saw. The one thing I couldn’t put down to fevered imagination was that when it looked at me, my guts felt like they’d been pushed through a chicken-wire fence.

The most sensible course of action would be to forget it and just go home, but I couldn’t do that; it would make me feel like a big sissy girl, a timid mouse jumping at his own shadow. Adrian Winters did not get the willies just because a weird-looking dog stared at him.

I turned from the doors and set off towards the rear of the building thinking that it would have buggered off by now, anyway, and even if it was still there, I had my steel toecap work boots on. I could always boot it into the middle of next week.

I walked to the edge of the building, my heart hammering against the inside of my ribcage. I knew it would be there waiting for me, but it was too late to turn back now. I had no choice but to follow things through.

I turned the corner and my eyes dropped to the ground. Apart from a few discarded cigarette butts scattered across the paving stones, there was nothing there.

I couldn’t wait to tell Kevin what I had seen; this would keep him amused for weeks. I smiled to myself, as I imagined the face that he’d pull when I told him that I had been hot on the trail of a mutated dog. I could even jazz the story up a bit by telling him that it had two heads or something.

This had been one strange day so far and I just hoped that the rest of the evening wouldn’t continue along the same vein. Perhaps I should sit in the garden for a couple of hours this evening, sipping ice-cold beer and catching the last rays of the sun before heading out tonight.

I looked at the clear-blue sky while shading my eyes and tried to remember just how many beers I had left in the fridge. That feeling of my body cooling down returned, and with reluctance I moved my hand away from my head.

Oh my God, the dog was there, right beside me, halfway up the fucking wall.

Hundreds of pale cream shoots had extruded from its body and sunk into the bricks and mortar, attached to the wall like creeping ivy.

I should have bolted there and then but I hesitated, and by then it was too late. Its liquid black eyes homed in on mine and like a rabbit startled by torchlight, it immobilised me with its hypnotic gaze.

It felt like a million fleas were burrowing into the base of my skull, trying to gain purchase, to climb inside my head.  The thing on the wall had already signalled its intentions. It would squeeze my mind dry like a wet sponge and my body would be cast aside like an empty suit of meat.

There was no way I was going to let that happen, no foul freak of nature was going to drain me dry.

Those dark eyes dominated my vision, commanding my full attention, and yet, from the corner of my eye, a splash of pale green blighted the otherwise perfect canvas. Every ounce of strength I possessed went to shifting my eyes just a fraction so I could bring that green into sharper focus.

Pleading followed demands, as I found the strength to resist its crude attempts to penetrate my inner-core. Its frustration swiftly changed to incandescent rage.

The green patch began to dominate the black; the image sharpened and became a letter.

The thing screamed, its grip upon my body loosened, yet I could still not move my head. A dozen pale tendrils dug themselves out of the wall and flowed towards my face.

Its intentions were clear: If the subtle method failed then it would use a direct approach Its hollow-tipped spines were heading straight for my eyes. Once it had ripped out the knowledge it hungered for, it was going to feed on my essential fluids until I was as dry as a desert corpse. Tears welled up, blurring the onrush of the eager tendrils. I had failed.

A sudden weight descended on my shoulder. My head jerked back from the impact. The tendrils’ grip on me was severed.

“What are you doing here, you tosser?”

I tried to tell him to run, to save his own skin, but only a faint groan escaped my lips. I stared at the sky, the beautiful blue helped scrub away the memory of  malevolent black. A large, pink circle entered my vision and sharpened into the worried-looking face of my friend.

“Kevin,” I managed to utter.

“Are you alright? You look like shit.”

I stared at the wall.  The thing was gone. The only trace it had ever been there was a few holes it had excavated in the wall.

Kevin giggled.

“I see you’re admiring my masterpiece,” he said.

“I’m Leechester’s equivalent of Banksy.”

Sprayed across the wall in large green letters were the words ‘Laurence is a cock’

The memory of my trauma began to fade away like images from a dream. I panicked, I knew that it was vital to hold on to at least some of my experience but the images dissipated like morning mist, leaving me nothing but an uneasy feeling.

I looked up and saw Kevin standing there, looking like he had just heard the world’s worst joke.

“What am I doing here?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Have you been sniffing glue?”

I didn’t think that I had the energy to lift up a bag let along sniff the contents. I felt like I hadn’t slept for a week. My God, I was shattered.

“Come on, Ade, they’ll be locking up soon and I haven’t clocked out yet. Staying behind will look bad for my street-cred.”

It was just past four and I was sure that the supervisor had told me to do something. I followed Kevin to the front entrance; he was rattling on about just how much time and effort he had put into constructing that hiding place. His whining went in one ear and out the other. I suppose I could have told him to shut up but, to be honest, I found the sound of his voice comforting. It was weird  but it helped me relax.

What the hell was wrong with me? As we walked, my energy levels boosted a little, and I began to feel better. I was probably just coming down with a cold or something, nothing to worry about. I would just have to ransack my mum’s medicine cabinet at home and blast the fucker to oblivion.

“What’s that in your hand?”

I opened my palm to reveal a sweat-soaked sweet wrapper. I shrugged, not knowing how it got there.

“Just crap, I think.”

I followed Kevin through the empty shop and into the staff area. As he was clocking out, I opened my hand again and smoothed the wrapper flat. There was a number written on the blank side. At first, I had no idea to whom the number belonged, then the sound of Chantelle, asking me where Kevin was going, echoed at the back of my brain. I smiled to myself and put the number in my back pocket.

I clocked out and started to climb the steps to the cloakrooms but Kevin had already beaten me there; in fact, he rushed down the stairs holding my coat and a bottle of Lucozade.

“Here you go, don’t say I never give you anything. What’s up with you today, Adrian? You look like shit.”

He handed me the drink then threw the coat over my head.

“Do you want Laurence to lock us in? Come on.”

I followed him through the empty showroom, towards the staff exit. I stopped to drink, still wondering why I felt so low. Kevin had moved off, leaving me alone. I gazed around the showroom, feeling as if somebody was watching me.

I put it down to the fact that this place always seemed different once the lights had been dimmed and the customers had gone. I did notice that the fridges had been pushed back together and that struck another chord in my memory. I rushed up to Kevin and tapped him on the back.

“What did Laurence want you for?”

I expected him to reply with something along the lines of the security cameras had caught him sneaking into the girls’ locker rooms again. What he did say shocked me into silence.

“Our new starter is due in the morning and Slaphead has asked me to show him the ropes. He asked me nicely, too.”

I was unsure how to respond to that. There had been a vacancy on the board for the past week, ever since one of the other shop-floor lads had been caught nicking gear and selling it on his dad’s market stall. Nobody told me that it had been filled. More importantly, why was Laurence saddling Kevin with the new boy?

“What’s his name?”

Kevin shrugged.

“Dunno, to be honest, I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

Laurence was holding the door open for a couple of the checkout girls. They had both removed their uniforms and changed into normal clothes. As we approached, our supervisor was running his eyes up and down the backs of their legs. Kevin nudged me and whispered.

“If his hand strays to his crotch, I think I’ll throw up.”

I grinned and whispered back, “He’ll be doing the same to us when we leave.”

I coughed into my hand. He spun around, his startled face changing to annoyance. He must have thought that everyone else had gone home. He then smiled at Kevin, which was something I never thought I’d see.

“Early to bed, Kevin,” he said. “You have a big day ahead of you.”

Kevin laughed. “You are joking, boss.  It’s Friday; the night we party.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

He nodded to me. “See you in the morning, Mr Winters.”

I couldn’t understand why he was acting so weird. He was up to something (either that or somebody had given him a personality transplant).

Kevin was racing ahead of me, eager not to miss his bus.

“Are we meeting at the usual place?” I shouted after him.

“Don’t forget, it’s a special night tonight!” he replied, over his shoulder.

I nodded, trying to look enthusiastic. I had a feeling in my bones that despite whatever plans Kevin had made; our Friday night would end up the same as every other. It was his birthday tomorrow and Kevin said that he was going to surprise us. Knowing Kevin, it would probably mean a trip to the industrial estate where he’d buy us all a Big Mac from the drive-thru.

Kevin sprinted to the bus stop just as his ride turned off the high street. Maybe when I got home, I should sit in the garden for a while and catch the remaining rays. I was sure there was some beer left in the fridge.

Chapter Three

I had left the beer untouched; six bottles of Becksworth Golden Oak in there, sitting on the middle shelf, just begging to be drunk. Yet when the door swung open and I was confronted with those bottles full of golden liquid, I thought I was going to spray my shoes with my last meal. I ended up stealing my mother’s coffee and drinking my way through half the pot before leaving the house.

“What time did he say he was meeting us, Adrian?”

Donna dropped her licked-clean latte spoon into her glass and looked at her watch.

“You know what Kevin’s like,” I replied. “He’ll be late for his own funeral.”

My triple-shot espresso had cooled enough for me to gulp it down in one go. Donna wrinkled up her nose in disgust.

“Why the hell are you drinking that muck?”

I tried not to gag as the thick, brown liquid hit the back of my throat.

“Because I just fancied a change, that’s all. What’s up with you anyway? You ain’t usually this tetchy.”

She shrugged.

“Come on, Ade, you know how much I hate waiting about.”

“Fair enough, why don’t we wander down to the square and see if he’s turned up yet. If he ain’t there, I’ll send him a text, okay?”

She nodded.

I followed Donna out of Starbucks, watching her hips sway in her tight, black jeans. I did notice that she received quite a few appreciative stares whilst in the coffee shop, and one cheeky fucker even tried to sneak a look down her top. It’s quite a turn-on to see other folk eyeing up my girlfriend.

Today, I really couldn’t give a fuck who looked at her. Come to think of it, my own libido had slipped under the radar; there must be something wrong with me. How can a lad of twenty-four go off beer and sex in one day? They were the only two things that made life tolerable.

The first beer I have tonight is going to go down in one and hang the consequences,

The square was just a few yards down the street and from where we stood, I saw it was deserted. I sighed, and wondered where the hell he was. I took my phone out of my pocket. Donna grabbed my arm.

“Can’t you text him in the Black Swan? You can tell him to meet us in there. You need to buy me a drink.”

“I’ve just bought you a drink.”

“No, Adrian, you bought me an expensive milky coffee. I want something alcoholic.”

I sighed. “Look, we’ll give it a couple more minutes. Come on Donna, we are supposed to be celebrating his birthday tonight. He told me that he’s planned a surprise.”

I sat down on the nearest bench, wincing as she threw herself down beside me. She was always like this on a Friday. Donna needed to throw a couple of drinks down her neck before she could start to unwind.

We seemed to be the only people in Leechester tonight. Comparing Leechester to a forgotten ghost town was an insult to forgotten ghost towns. Apart from us, I saw a battered Escort parked near the other side of the square and a couple of pigeons fighting over a chip, whilst another pigeon with one leg merely watched. The nightlife in our town sucked.

“You know that the surprise will turn out to be that he’s buggered off to Bradford with his brother?”

I’d never thought of that but I wouldn’t put it past him. Time was cracking on and cosying up to Donna in the Black Swan began to sound like a very attractive idea.

“Come on then, sweetheart,” I said. “Let’s make tracks.”

I’ll kill him for this, I thought.  How dare he stand us up?  What a tosser! I glanced around the square one final time, hoping to see the gormless arse bounding towards us, but there was still no sign.

We were no longer alone in the square, though. I saw a woman walking up to the water fountain. Something was wrong with her: she was shuffling along like Frankenstein’s monster. Judging from the state of her ripped-up pants and filthy coat; it appeared that our fair town had acquired yet another bloody tramp.

“I’m sure I know her,” muttered Donna.

She climbed the fountain steps, dunked her head in the bowl and lapped out the water. That was the most disgusting sight I’d seen all day. That spout hadn’t pumped out fresh water since before I was born. The gunk in that bowl was so stagnant even the pigeons wouldn’t drink out of it.

“Oh my God,” she said, sounding totally disgusted.

I thought she was talking about the old woman, so I nodded.

“He’s with his brother.”

I heard the double slam of car doors and was a little shocked to see Kevin’s older brother, Dave, sauntering towards us. At least, I think it was him; I wasn’t used to seeing him without his trademark oily overalls.

Dave wasn’t the easiest of folk to get along with. He’d been a thorn in my side since primary school. He was thirty-four now and over time he’d kind of mellowed out. Even so, I’m just glad that with me being a decade younger than he is, he had a different circle of friends so our paths didn’t often cross.

I just hoped he would behave himself tonight. Perhaps it would be better if I stayed off the beer, as it tended to loosen my tongue. Having him knocking seven shades of shit out of me was the last thing I wanted.

Kevin was helping Sami out of the rear seat.  He saw me and waved. I suppose it should have clicked earlier. Dave had a side-job of restoring old cars and that wreck over there must have been his latest project.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hi, ” she replied.

Well it was obvious to me that she disliked him on sight. It was amazing just how perceptive that girl was. I knew from years of bitter experience just how unlikeable Dave was. I was assuming that this was the first time she had met him; I’d have to do some discreet digging just to be sure.

Dave looked at me and nodded. I returned the nod.

“Adrian.”

“Dave.”

He held his gaze just a little longer than was necessary and I got the feeling that events tonight were not going to end well.

Kevin ran over and leaped onto the bench.

“Howdo’s Ade?” he said. “Soz about the wait but my wench couldn’t decide what to fucking wear.”

“Hello, baby,” he said to Donna, looking at her breasts.

“Let’s ditch these losers, Donna, and run off to Holburn woods and make sweet love all night.”

Before Donna could respond, his brother grabbed his shirtsleeve and pulled him down.

“I swear down, Kev, you better not make a tit out of yourself tonight.”

Kevin blew his brother a kiss.

“Leave him be, Dave.”

I hadn’t noticed the other guy standing behind Sami.

“It’s his birthday. If he wants to act like a tit, let him. We were that age once, you know?”

Dave stared at his brother who was now playing with Sami’s hair.

“Maybe so, Stig, but he’s like this all the fucking time.”

I had no idea who the other guy was and nobody seemed in any great hurry to introduce him.

The girls had taken the lead, arms over their chests and yapping on about whatever girls talked about, oblivious to the boys behind them. Kevin hadn’t noticed that I was bringing up the rear, but then, as he now had a not so captive audience, I could sneak off home and he wouldn’t notice.

The idea did have appeal, considering the way I felt. This afternoon’s bout of lethargy had returned with a vengeance. It looked like the espresso hadn’t helped. It was unpleasant feeling like cement had been poured into your bones to set whilst you were pounding the pavement. If I didn’t shake this soon, I’d be no good to anyone.

I caught up with Kevin and clapped him on the back of the shoulders. “So what’s the surprise, birthday boy?”

A theatrical moan escaped his lips. “Jesus, guy, have you not been listening to a single word?”

“Of course I haven’t. You talk shite most of the time so I usually just tune your voice out.”

The new guy giggled.

“Our Kevin is taking us to a fancy restaurant.”

I nodded; that would be the fish and chip restaurant off Dean Road. “Hey, Kevin, I don’t suppose you have any caffeine pills on you by any chance?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry, guy. I never bother with them.”

Kevin rushed off to stop the girls who hadn’t realised that we were no longer behind them. It looked like I had no other choice than to call into the next off-licence and buy a crate of Red Bull.

“Well, that’s a shitty stunt to pull,” Dave said sullenly.

I guessed that the clown was talking to me, despite staring at his brother’s back.

“What are you on about?” I asked.

“I know that we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye over the years but to come out with something so lame is beneath contempt.”

Dave looked at me, his face displaying loathing.

“How long will it be before you hit our Kev with the ‘I’m too tired to stay out’ line?”

So, he was just waiting for his brother to be out of earshot before he started on me. I rolled my hands into fists. For fucks’ sake, I was in no mood for this. If it wasn’t for Donna, I would have just turned and walked off. It didn’t take a genius to see that the bastard was planning to be on my back all night.

“I’ve got something like caffeine pills,” the new bloke remarked.

Dave suppressed a chuckle. I don’t know what he found so bloody funny.

“You can have a couple if you like, Adrian, but they are rather strong.”

That was fine by me, the stronger the better. What the hell was wrong with that giggling moron? He was crippled with laughter. Was he laughing at me?

Stig dropped two tiny purple tablets into my palm.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I muttered and raised my hand.

“Wait,” said Dave. “Stig, give him a couple more.”

Stig shook his head. “No way, Dave, he’ll be bouncing to the moon and back with just two.”

I was tempted to ask for another couple anyway. I should have been bouncing to the moon and back with the amount of coffee I’d supped since this afternoon.

Dave grinned at his mate. “Come on, lad, think of it as an experiment.”

He sighed. “Fair enough, Dave, but if he drops dead I won’t be held responsible.”

He dropped another two tablets into my hand and I rammed them into my gob before he could change his mind.

“Consider these to be a free sample,” Stig said. “If you want any more, you’ll have to pay, and they aren’t cheap.”

“You’ll find them very moreish,” said Dave.

“I’m really sorry about having to charge you for more. You seem a decent lad but I can only get them because of my Gran. You do understand?”

Dave burst out laughing again.

I nodded, that seemed fair enough, and I didn’t think I’d need any more anyway. I wondered what he was doing hanging around with a scrote like Dave. He seemed like a decent enough lad.

“How are you feeling now?” Dave’s face was full of mock concern.

“A little better,” I replied. “Less sleepy.”

Dave looked like I’d just told him I was getting married to Kevin.

“I thought you said it was like rocket fuel?”

“It is,” replied Stig. “He should be zooming through the stratosphere by now.”

I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about but I wanted to shake the man’s hand. That horrible malaise that had been threatening to turn me into a big pile of apathy had completely gone. I felt almost normal. I was even excited about the prospect of a beer.

“Hey! What are you guys up to? He isn’t giving you any jip, is he?”

I shook my head. “Of course not, Kevin— in fact he’s been a perfect gentleman.”

“Are you alright, Ade?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I dunno, I just…” He gave his brother and Stig a filthy look.

“Are we at this bloody restaurant yet?” asked Kevin’s brother.

“Yeah come on, you big, ginger knob-end. I’m fucking starving.”

I was too, where had that come from?

He pointed to where the girls stood. “Well if you have quite finished fucking mouthing off, I was about to inform you that we have arrived.”

I pushed past them and joined the girls. Donna took my hand and squeezed gently.

“I’ve never been here before,” she said. “Is it any good?”

“It’s quite nice,” I replied.

What the hell was Kevin playing at? Did he have any idea just how expensive this place was? Come to think of it, how did he manage to book a table on a Friday night? Maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster, as soon as Kevin saw the prices, he’d be out of there before any of my parent’s friends could see me.

Maybe he wouldn’t even get that far. They’d take one look at his attire and escort him out of the building. I was used to his going-out clothing so it didn’t shock me when I saw him bounding towards me wearing Doc Martens, supermarket trousers, a charity shop shirt and sporting a £2.99 haircut.

“Come on, then,” said Kevin. “Let’s go get some grub.”

Dave and Sami followed Kevin inside.

“I’ll catch up with you, Dave. I’m just going to have a smoke.”

Stig waited until Dave had disappeared up the stairs before he turned to me. He reached over and grabbed my shirt collar, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

“I thought so; you’re wearing a Lauren shirt.”

Now that impressed me; the man had style.

“You had better keep an eye on your friend.”

“Do you think he’ll cause trouble?”

The look on his face told me that was a dumb question.

“Would you not agree that he will look a little out of place here?”

“Who are you?”

He smiled. “Just a friend of Dave’s, that’s all.”

Donna pulled me inside. “Come on,” she said. “Stop fretting. Everything will be fine.”

I looked back before we went up the plush, blue-carpeted stairs to see Stig chatting away on his mobile phone. Whoever was on the other end was getting a right mouthful.

That benign, yet haughty face had altered; it made Dave’s twisted, spiteful tone seem almost pleasant.

“I’m sorry, Donna.”

She looked at me confused.

“Whatever for?”

“I should have taken you to the Swan when I had the chance.”

She kissed the tip of my nose.

“You really are sweet, Adrian, but you can be such a worry-puss. Chill out, for crying out loud.”

I paused at the top of the stairs, allowing Donna to go on ahead. I pretended to admire one of the prints adorning the corridor and waited for the inevitable. Donna didn’t understand and the Lofthouse boys would never get it. This was part of my world. A goofy grin and a golden tongue wouldn’t cut it if you looked like you lived on a landfill site.

It didn’t take that long for Kevin’s angry voice to reach my ears.

“And so it begins,” I muttered.

Why couldn’t Donna listen to me just this once? It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t just abandon her here, she’d never want to see me again.

Despite my misgivings, I continued down the corridor, listening to the voices getting louder and louder.

The waiter couldn’t have been any more flustered if he’d tried, not that I could blame him: trying to explain to two council estate reprobates that they had to leave because they hadn’t booked a table beforehand when both boys were twice your size must be very daunting.

Dave called his brother a fucking retard. Somehow, I didn’t think that Dave’s remarks would help diffuse the situation. Kevin had a habit of letting his fists talk when he was backed into a corner.

The waiter was getting my ginger friend’s back up.  That wasn’t good. Two big Italian lads from behind the bar were strolling towards the waiter, they were taking their time, and both were smiling. A burly fellow, dressed in an all-white uniform, had emerged from the kitchen. It was Mr. Mancini himself.

Shit, if he recognised me, there’d be hell to pay.

“There are loads of tables free,” said Kevin.

The waiter had seen back-up arriving so his composure had dropped back to normal.

“Yes sir, but they have all been booked in advance by people using a telephone. Do you have a telephone, sir?”

That waiter was liable to end up in hospital if he didn’t drop that condescending tone of voice. Kevin wouldn’t back off just because the odds were no longer in his favour.

I sneaked forward and grabbed Donna’s hand, then pulled her back. Thankfully, she didn’t resist. I caught a glance of another man still behind the bar and he was shouting down the phone, no doubt informing the boys in blue that their restaurant was being smashed up by a gang of working-class oiks.

What a bloody mess. Why couldn’t Kevin have just stuck to restaurants he was used to? The ones with huge, badly-spelled menus stuck to the wall, where they decorated the back of the shop with empty pizza boxes.

“Come on, Ade, don’t just stand there looking like an idiot. Go help him out. He is your mate, you know.”

“You are aware of the consequences, aren’t you? For both of us.”

She nodded. “Of course I am and it’s about time you faced up to the fact that you can’t have your cake and fucking eat it, too.”

I’m going to murder Kevin for this. I left Donna where she was, composed myself and walked over to the bickering crowd, working out how to play this.

Dave had his brother’s arms tight behind his back. The big cook saw me. He grinned and opened his arms.

“Mr. Winters! Welcome back. Are you here by yourself, sir?”

I nodded, acting like the three beside me were total strangers. I winced at what must be going through Dave’s mind right now.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m not here to sample your delicious cooking. I was just passing and I heard raised voices and wondered if I could help.”

Tony nodded over to the man behind the bar waving the phone.

“Thanks, Adrian, but we have it in hand.”

I squeezed past Kevin who elbowed me in the arm. I shot him a sharp look. Kevin was creasing himself laughing.

“Now, what do you think the police will do? And what’s to stop these thugs from coming back and trashing your shop or even firebombing it?”

I hoped I wasn’t laying this on too thick. The blood drained from Tony’s face.

“I say, you there. You with the bright red hair.”

“Are you talking to me, you posh cunt?”

I nodded. “What say I take you and your chums to McDonalds? I’ll buy you anything you want off the menu.”

Kevin grinned. “Fine by me, Squire. You can get me twenty fucking Big Macs.”

He grabbed Sami and walked out with Dave following on behind. The look that Kevin’s brother gave me flipped my stomach. I had gone from being his kid brother’s annoying friend to working-class traitor.

“Thank you so much for that,” Tony gushed. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Well give my love to your mother.”

As expected, Dave was ready to launch into me as soon as my feet hit the pavement.

“Does it turn you on?  Do you get your rocks off by hanging around with scum like us?” He looked at Donna.

“So what’s she, then, your tidy bit of rough?”

I kept quiet and refused to rise to his baiting, the chances of him joining us on another night out were slim anyway, and I’d make sure of that. Kevin didn’t seem to give two monkeys that his best friend had been lying to him all these years, which was what really mattered to me.

“Leave him alone,” said Stig.

I did wonder just how long it would take before he rushed to my rescue. His clothes were even more expensive than mine were; I wondered if Dave knew that.

“Well,” said Kevin, clapping his hands. “That was fun. Now let’s say we continue my birthday celebration by emptying the Swan of beer?”

“You can count me out,” said Dave, looking straight at me.

Stig pushed him, none too gently, toward the direction of where we’d come from.

“You four go and enjoy yourselves. Dave and I have other business to attend to, anyway. Tell you what; we’ll meet you in the Ocean Bar later.”

As they left us, I overheard Dave telling his friend that they didn’t work. I wondered who he was talking about.

Behind me, Kevin started to giggle.  To be honest, I was getting a little fed up with him and his stupid games and the thought of him getting even stupider as he plied more beer down his neck did not appeal. Perhaps, I could lose him and take Donna somewhere nice and quiet. Nice and quiet sounded a great idea right about now.

“I don’t fancy yours much,” said Kevin.

I turned to see what the hell he was yapping on about now. The weird old woman we last saw at the fountain lurched out of a nearby alley.  She had me in her sights.

“Bugger off!” I shouted. “I don’t have any money.”

She stopped dead.

“Oh, Adrian, you’ve gone and upset her now. I think you should go kiss her better.”

I turned and looked at my friend, intending to tell him to piss off, when Sami screamed. The woman ran up to me. She grabbed my shoulders and flipped me around. I fell into her liquid, black eyes. Everything beyond the woman became inconsequential. Sudden pain, like a thousand pinpricks surged through my shoulders, making me gasp. The pain turned to pleasure, then a million flashbulbs went off in my head,

The woman was flat on the ground, writhing about like a beetle on its back. Kevin ran up and aimed a size-ten boot at her side, but the woman grabbed his foot and pushed him back, then got to her feet and ran back into the alley.

I helped Kevin back on his feet and dissuaded him from following her.  Something told me that he would not come back out again.

“Kevin, I think we need to get seriously fucking drunk.”

Chapter Four

I awoke with my arms tangled in my quilt cover and Donna’s nightie. My girlfriend’s legs were wrapped around mine while she snored Bacardi, garlic and pepperoni fumes. I pushed her back to her side of my bed before her breath could work its magic on my delicate stomach and climbed out of bed.

I tried to change my befuddled brain from neutral to first gear so I could answer one simple, yet suspicious question. What had happened last night?

“Good morning,” said a voice from the bed. “How do you feel?”

I looked down at Donna, my eyes tracing the smooth contours of her naked flesh.

She saw what I was doing and smiled while patting the bed.

“We have time,” she said. “Let’s have some fun.”

I shook my head. I didn’t feel the least bit aroused.

“What happened last night? Any chance of filling in the blanks?”

Donna struggled into her nightie. I noticed that she had put it on inside out.

“God! I can’t believe how randy I am,” she said, ignoring me. She stretched out on the bed and lifted up her nightie. “Come on big boy. Don’t you like what you see?”

I sighed. “Come on, Donna. Help me out here.”

“I’m not surprised you can’t remember anything. Not after what you put away last night. Christ on a bike, you even drank Kevin under the table.”

That couldn’t have been right, I’ve seen just how much that lad can sup. If what she said was true, I should be in hospital, yet I didn’t even have a trace of a hangover.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get back into bed?”

“I can’t. I’ve got to go to work, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call in sick?”

“For the last time, Donna, no.”

She pouted. “You may change you mind when you see what your face looks like.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I forgot to mention that you got into a fight last night.”

I hurried into the bathroom and looked at my reflection. Oh, this was just fantastic. I looked like a sodding panda. The guy’s fist must have been travelling at some speed to make such a mess. If I ever saw the brain donor who’d done this, I must remember to congratulate him on having such a powerful right hook. Right before I ripped his head off.

I returned to the bedroom to throw on my work clothes, whilst trying to avoid Donna grabbing my private parts with tentacle-like hands. I noticed with disgust that my mother had performed yet another one of her infamous bedroom searches.  I’d hid my shirt and trousers under the mattress; she’d found them, washed them and put a crease in so sharp you could cut carrots with it. There is nothing more satisfying than walking into work and seeing your supervisor’s head go a lovely bright red because you are wearing a shirt that has more crumples in it than a screwed up sheet of writing paper. I’d have to find a better hiding place.

“What happened to my face, Donna?”

“You still can’t remember? We walked into the kebab house; you and Kevin were singing the theme tune to The A-Team. A couple of scrotes took an exception to your voice and decided to have a go.”

“That was brave of them, or stupid, did the sight of Kevin the human bear not make them pause?”

She shook her head. “You two were well gone.  If it hadn’t been for Dave’s friend coming in behind me, the two of you would have been in a far worse state.”

That surprised me. He didn’t seem to be the brawling type.

“As soon as they saw him, they were out of that shop like whippets.”

A shrill voice blasted up from the kitchen. “Do you two want coffees?”

“Yes, please, Mrs. Winters,” shouted Donna.

“What the hell did you do that for?” I hissed.

She grinned and playfully tried to grab my private bits again.

“Lack of sex makes me thirsty, Adrian.”

I looked around for something to hide my face in. “If she sees this black eye she’ll have a bloody heart attack.”

She pointed to the walk-in cupboard.

“Hide in there,” she whispered.

There were a couple of light taps on the bedroom door.

“Are you two decent in there?”

Donna dismissed me with a flick of her wrist and I crept into the cupboard like a naughty schoolboy.

Have you any idea how hard it is not to make a noise when you are leaning against half a dozen bin bags full of your old clothes? I know it seemed like I was being a cowardly custard but I wasn’t. If she’d seen my face, she would have totally freaked. It would’ve completely ruined her day and mine.

She would’ve demanded a full explanation before dragging me over to accident and emergency.

I was planning to go to Donna’s straight after work and with a bit of luck, the bruises should have faded. If they hadn’t, I’d have to resort to disguising it with some of her make-up.

The cupboard door slid back. Donna leaned in and kissed me.

“I’ve come to your rescue, my brave and handsome knight. The wicked witch has sodded off.”

“Don’t take the piss,” I muttered.

She helped me out and passed me my coffee.

“I told her that you had to go to work earlier. I think she believed me. It’s hard to tell with your mum.”

Donna threw me my work tie.

“I was quick enough to hide that under my pillow before she came in. Aren’t I a clever girl?”

“Thank you. Has she gone back downstairs?”

“She went to the bog.”

Good. She spent half her life there. If she ran to schedule, she would have a long bath. By long, I mean at least two hours. Once the bath routine was over then it would be another hour spent in front of her mirror doing what Donna strangely called ‘putting her face on.’

I put the half-drunk coffee down and gave Donna’s disappointed face a kiss. I think she still wanted sex. I told her I’d meet her that night and crept out of the bedroom and down the stairs. With the running taps and the radio blaring out Beethoven’s Fifth, my mother didn’t hear me letting myself out of the front door and into the cold January morning.

The small and very exclusive collection of four and five bedroomed detached homes that were quaintly named Birch Bank Gardens had been built one year before I was born. They were the most expensive houses in Leechester. Naturally, my parents were the first on the waiting list. Despite the fact that Birch Bank Gardens was three miles from the town centre, I still nearly always chose to take a taxi. This morning was going to be different, though. I felt that the fresh air would do me some good so I chose to walk instead. It shouldn’t take me that long.

I could knock a good twenty minutes off my journey if I took a short cut through the recreation ground. I’d avoid most of the traffic and any pedestrians by going that way, giving me a little time to think. I knew I wouldn’t see anyone on the ground as nobody ever went there, not even the local kids.

I still couldn’t get over just how well Donna got on with my mother. She had yet to meet my father; he was working on an oil rig down in the Falklands.  Obviously, I twisted the truth when I first introduced her. I told mum that Donna was at Leeds University studying art. Her parents lived in Ipswich and Donna was staying with friends up here.

My mother asked her what her parents did for a living. Of course, I knew that my mother was secretly checking that any future daughter in law came from a family of good breeding. Donna surprised me when she said that her mother taught history and her father was a bank manager. Donna winked at me. I was shocked that she had been able to reel off such a spontaneous pile of bullshit. Her mum was really a cleaner at a local supermarket; I didn’t think her dad had worked for over ten years.

I stopped to catch my breath. I wasn’t used to all this walking. Except, of course, when I’d been drinking, but that’s different. When I had alcohol coursing through my veins and I was in the presence of good company I could walk for miles.

The recreation area  gave me the creeps. I didn’t know why, but every time I walked through there, it felt like eyes were watching me. Like I said; the place was creepy and weird.

I stopped, forced my hands deeper into my coat pockets and turned around. My uneasiness increased and my heart started to beat a little faster. That feeling of someone or something watching me became worse. My fear-squeezed mind urged me to run, to get out of this eerie place, but somehow the message didn’t reach my legs.

There was a tiny voice, a rational voice that calmly informed me that I was being stupid and that there was nothing there; it was all in my head and I was just being a dick.

I tried to calm down. I took a couple of deep breaths and reassessed the situation. There was nothing there, I told myself. Yet I still couldn’t shake the feeling that a pair of eyes was boring holes through the back of my skull.

“Who the fuck is there?” I shouted.

It did seem like a very silly thing to do. If anyone was hiding, they were hardly likely to respond, but it made me feel a little better. I felt more in control. I looked around, searching for any place that could conceal somebody, but apart from some twisted bushes on the edge of the field, nothing stood out as an obvious hiding place.

I picked up a dead branch and ran towards the bushes, screaming. As I approached them, my uneasiness vanished, leaving me out of breath, holding a dirty stick and feeling like a complete tit. I threw the stick into the bushes and wiped my hands on my work trousers. To crush any remaining paranoid delusions, I checked inside the bushes as well. All that was there was a battered lawnmower, a supermarket trolley and a rolled up, mouldy carpet. I let out a sigh of relief and laughed aloud.

I looked at my watch and my laughing abruptly stopped. Somehow, I had been in this field for over an hour. That couldn’t be right. I double-checked with my phone and both times were in harmony. It still felt wrong. I estimated that I’d been here for ten minutes at the most. This was ridiculous— and then I realised that I should have started my shift fifteen minutes ago.

I was fully aware that Laurence was going to have kittens when he saw the state of my face, but I also knew that there was very little he could do about it, as he was the one who told me that I must attend work, no matter what the excuse. Stupidly, I’d just gone and given him a valid reason to give me a warning and get on my back all bastard day. Fuck. What a great way to start the morning.

As I walked through the empty car park, I could make out my supervisor leaning against the main door, alternating his weasel stare between my approaching form and his watch. He was doing his best to look intimidating, but failing.

Laurence was shivering. That was when I realised just how much trouble he was going to try to give me. He must have been standing there from just before when my shift was due to start, determined to catch me coming through the door late.

Laurence Ledbetter was forty-two years old, unmarried, and lived with his mother. That was all anybody knew about the man. He wasn’t a man with whom you could strike up a conversation that wasn’t related to a work issue. One of the checkout girls said that her mum knew him at college and she told her daughter that he apparently had a huge collection of model trains and he spent all his spare time playing with them in his loft.

The girl had laughed like a hyena and called him a sad little geek when she imparted this nugget of information. I laughed alongside despite the fact that I would have done anything to see those trains.

I suppose I should have at least felt sorry for him, but I just couldn’t. He was such an annoying twat. It was immediately obvious when he noticed that the left side of my face wasn’t its usual colour, because he performed a comical double-take and his mouth tightened. Behind those beady eyes, his evil little mind was no doubt calculating whether he now had enough evidence to send me upstairs to the big boss with a recommendation that I be dismissed.

I casually strolled up to him and treated him to a goofy smile.

“Morning,” I said as I walked past him. “You should have a coat on; it’s a bit nippy out here.”

“You know where my office is, Adrian,” he replied. “You can leave your coat on. I very much doubt that you will be staying.”

He must have been confident. He said that just loud enough for the other staff who were pretending not to eavesdrop.

I sat on the uncomfortable, hard plastic chair in his office. I use the word ‘office’ in the loosest possible sense. It was just a couple of MDF boards fastened together at the back of the shop. He hadn’t said a word since his outburst fifteen minutes ago. He didn’t even say anything when I went straight to the cloakroom to remove my coat. I’m sure he must have thought it was the last defiant act of a condemned man. He sat on the other side of the cheap, wooden desk, typing away on what must have been Fred Flintstone’s cast-off PC.

This was the first time I’d had chance to examine the supervisor’s domain. Kevin had told me about the place plenty of times but I thought he was just exaggerating. What struck me as odd was its sparsness. I expected not to see pictures of his wife and kids, as he hadn’t any, but people generally personalized something in their office. A calendar or maybe a miniature teddy bear stuck to the computer. His office looked as unloved as he was. This man needed to get another life.

He had finished clacking away on his ancient keyboard while his printer was slowly spitting out his work of art.  He leaned back on his chair and put his arms behind his back. He still wasn’t speaking.

The letter went into a plain brown envelope which was sealed with his saliva. Ugh! He looked like a fucking lizard when he had his tongue out.

“Come on, Adrian. Mr. Thompson is expecting you.” I followed him up the stairs, eager to get this finished. The receptionist, Jenny Summers, saw my face and hurried over.

“Good lord, Adrian, what happened to you?”

“I got into a fight last night,” I shrugged. “At least I think I did, I was too drunk to remember.”

Laurence didn’t have time to come out with a put down as Jenny’s icy stare silenced him. I found that rather funny to watch. Our supervisor’s bullying didn’t work up in the main offices.

The main man, Alfred Thompson, must have heard me talking and strolled out of his office. He gave his receptionist a withering look and she scuttled behind her desk. He beckoned to me and pointed to his office, I got the idea. Laurence opened his mouth and this time it was Mr. Thompson’s turn to silence him with an icy stare. I found that even funnier to watch.

“Don’t you have some work to do, Mr. Ledbetter? Or are you going to spend another half an hour waiting for our late arrivals?”

“No sir.”

“Well then lad, don’t let me keep you,”

Laurence feebly waved his envelope in front of him.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Laurence. Just leave that with Jenny. I’ll look at it later.”

I followed our leader into a proper looking office and sat down in a luxurious chair.

“Good lord, Adrian! What the bloody hell do you think you are playing at, coming into work looking like that?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Alfred,” I replied. “I know I look a bit of a sight but I didn’t want to miss work.”

Alfred is my father’s cousin and he could not understand why I wanted to work on the shop floor. As far as he was concerned, people of privilege should not have to get their hands dirty.

“What on earth did your mother say? I’m surprised she let you out of the house.”

“She doesn’t know,” I replied. “If she saw this, she’d have me laid up in bed for the next two weeks connected to an IV.”

“Yes, she does get a little excitable. Well, how you handle your mother is your concern, I suppose. But I can’t let you on the shop floor looking like that. You look like a blasted panda.”

“After that bloody thief made a laughing stock of all of us, I was going to call in the auditors to find out just what he’d stolen, but now I have a better and cheaper idea. You can do some stock counts for me instead. That should keep you busy and out of the public eye.”

Jenny brought in a cup of coffee, which I sipped gratefully. The lads on the shop floor collectively thought Jenny was a prime MILF candidate. Kevin had told me exactly what he would like to do with her, on more than one occasion. I was sure that she had caught the lewd gestures - the lads really are not very subtle – but I don’t think she had ever put in a complaint. I think she found them complimentary.

“What about Laurence?” I asked.

Alfred sighed. “I really wish you would call him Mr. Ledbetter He may be a bloody arse at times but he has been here a long time and has put a lot of hard work in for this company.”

Alfred opened one of his desk drawers and passed a set of keys to me. “The blue one opens the stock-room door. Please don’t lose it, as that’s the only one I have. Jenny, can you tell Mr. Ledbetter that I want a word?”

He stood up and walked me to the door.

“You just leave him to me,” he said. “I’ll sort something out.”

And that was my cue to leave. I placed my cup of coffee on Jenny’s desk. It wasn’t my fault that I spilled what was left all over the brown envelope.

Well, I must admit, I wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of spending the full day in the warehouse with only cheap digital cameras and cut-price microwaves as company. Because of the new security procedures, there was no chance of anyone popping in to keep me amused for a few minutes. It was cold, dark, and draughty. The warehouse was the only area of the building that hadn’t been modernised in recent years.

On second thoughts, perhaps the isolation would be a good idea. I wasn’t what you would call an attention seeker and after seeing Jenny’s reaction to my face, I figured that attention was the one thing I would see plenty of today.

Before I made my way down to the dungeons of hell, I grabbed a coffee from the vending machine and decided to retrieve my coat. I didn’t want to catch a chill.

Laurence was waiting for me in the cloakroom, leaning against one of the lockers with his arms crossed. I tried to ignore him.

“I hope there’s no hard feelings, mate,” he said to the back of my head.

I turned around, walked towards him and zipped up my coat. I was dying to tell him that he hadn’t seen the last of me but I decided to leave that speech for my uncle.

“You’ll thank me for this one day,” he said. “Punctuality and dedication to your job will bring you great benefits.”

I couldn’t work out whether he was giving me a bit of friendly advice or gloating because he thought he had the power to get rid of people he didn’t like.

“Let me be the first to wish you the best of luck in whatever career you choose to take. You never know, Adrian, in fifteen years time you could be where I am today.”

I found that idea beyond revolting.

Jenny’s tannoy voice asked Mr. Ledbetter to report to the manager’s office. I treated the dork to his second goofy smile of the day.

“Let me be the first to wish you the best of luck for the next twenty minutes,” I said.

He shot me a quizzical look before scurrying off. I picked up my lukewarm coffee and took a sip. I was determined to finish at least one cup today. I laughed quietly to myself. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that office. Laurence had no idea that I was related to the boss and I wanted it to stay that way. I knew that Uncle Alfred wouldn’t spill the beans because he was embarrassed by the whole idea of me mixing with what he classed as the common herd.

My reasons were more practical. Laurence thought I was just another estate scumbag layabout and he treated me accordingly. If he found out the truth, he would make my life hell. I’d seen how he acted around the boss. He was like a big puppy begging for treats. It was sickening. If he did that to me, the lads would treat me like a sailor with a dead albatross around his neck.

Kevin stopped me on the way down the stairs. He saw that I had my coat on and, just like the supervisor, he jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“I don’t believe he’s done it. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll rip that bald bastard a new arsehole.”

The sentiment was touching, it really was. I told my red-faced friend to calm down.

“Will you chill out?” I said. “I haven’t been sacked.”

“He’s told everyone that he’s got rid of you. He was going to use your dismissal as a lesson. You should have heard him go on.”

I smiled and dangled the stockroom keys in front of him. He looked more puzzled than he usually did.

“So why have you got your coat on?” he asked.

I sighed.

“I’ll tell you on the way to the warehouse.”

Chapter Five

The morning just flew by, no doubt helped by the fact that I counted for about ten minutes, then spent the next few hours just having a good root around. It was like an Aladdin’s cave down there. I even found gear dating back three decades; no wonder that lad was able to get away with stealing stuff for so long.

What I found hilarious was that the boss paid an outside company to come down and count the stock every six months. I thought they could be fiddling the books. I was pretty sure somebody would notice twelve full boxes of eight-track car players.

Laurence stayed out of my way. I knew he was the other key holder but I didn’t see him again until lunchtime. He sat alone in his usual place, eating homemade corned beef and onion sandwiches and drinking tea from a flask. I’d never seen him use the vending machine in all the time I had been there.

He was glaring at anybody who dared to go near him, the miserable old bastard. Kevin had informed me that the new guy had failed to show up, which probably didn’t help his mood. When he saw me, he gave me an extra special glare. I made a mental note to go see if my uncle would tell me just what he’d said to Laurence.

I exchanged the usual adolescent banter with the lads on the shop floor. Nobody compared me to a panda but a few did agree with Kevin that I had indeed been given an easy job. Kevin texted me a few sick jokes that his brother had sent him. I did see that Chantelle had cosied up to Kevin, so me not giving him her number hadn’t worked.

I couldn’t remember any more of that day. I hadn’t forgotten; it’s just that the period after lunchtime was a complete blank. The next thing that I was aware of was when I woke up the next morning: I was in a hospital bed.

Chapter Six

I can hear a dog barking in the distance. Judging by the noise, it’s a small dog and I think it’s coming towards me. My eyelids snap open.  I am in a whole world of confusion.

It’s daylight. I’m outside and standing on a rough field. The dog stops by my feet, looks up at me and barks once. I’m barefooted and I can feel the blades of grass between my feet. I’m wearing a horrible set of hospital pyjamas and a maroon dressing gown. The dressing gown is mine. The words ‘Bradford Royal Infirmary’ are stitched into the breast pocket of the pyjama top. I walk around in a circle yet I leave no footprints.

The dog’s name is Jasper and he is four months old. He has been with his new owner for only three weeks. He was bought by her son when her other dog died.

The animal was very unhappy when he was taken away from his old pack leader but now he has grown used to his new pack leader and loves her very much. This is the first time he has been to this place. It does not smell good. Jasper was running towards an unknown threat in the bushes in front of him. He was on his way to investigate and attempt to destroy whatever was hiding in there when a tall blurred shape appeared in front of him. He is very confused.

I can now see an old woman, slowly walking towards me; she is better dressed than me for this cold January morning, perhaps a little over dressed but then again, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an old lady wearing less then five layers of clothing. I think I recognize her. She looks like the same old woman who raised a stink in the shop last week because her new kettle had blown up.

She is carrying a green dog lead in her left hand and is swinging a wooden walking stick in her right hand.

Her name is Rita Hepworth. She is sixty eight years old and lives alone in a two-bedroom council flat. After her morning ritual of walking the dog, she intends to visit her friend, Josie Naylor who lives across town. Josie and Rita always go shopping together on a Saturday. She is upset and angry because her new dog keeps running off. Her other dog never used to do this and she once again curses the animal for dying. Rita is now wondering whether it really was such a good idea to get another dog at her age.

Have I suddenly started to read minds? This has to be a dream; I just can’t think of another explanation. If it is a dream why the hell am I thinking of some ugly mutt and an old woman? Why can’t I dream about having sex with a dozen beautiful ladies?

The dog has now moved away from my feet and disappeared into the bushes. I think I now at least know where I am. I walked through here on Saturday morning.

The scene has changed; I am now inside the bushes. I definitely recognize the area now. The old lawnmower is there and so is the shopping trolley but the mouldy old carpet is now something completely different.

It looks like a huge lump of dark yellow, wet clay lightly covered in vomit. I have never seen anything so ugly and disgusting in my entire life. I can sense that this abomination is somehow alive. It also knows that I am here, in front of it. In fact, this thing brought me here, to educate me.

The little dog rushes through a gap in the bushes, skids to a halt and starts to bark and growl at the offensive alien-like object. I have a sudden premonition of what is to come next. I tense myself and tryto look away but to no avail.

The dog doesn’t  know what he is facing, there is nothing in his experience that he can use as a comparison. He is aware of one thing though. If he doesn’t  destroy it, his owner will come stumbling in here and surely die.

That poor dog knows that he has no chance against this— whatever the hell this thing was— yet he still stays. I mentally shake my head.

Hundreds of cream coloured root like appendages erupt from all over its body and wrap themselves around the dog so completely that I struggle to hear his muffled yelping.

“Jasper? You get out of there at once, you naughty dog. Leave that poor rabbit alone”

I see the end of her walking stick poke through the bushes. I want her to turn around, forget about her dog and run as fast as her old legs can carry her. It isn’t going to happen because the scene being played out in front of me has already been and gone. This is a past event and I am just an unwilling witness to a horrible occurrence.

I suppose I should be thankful that I am not the one who stumbled in here on Saturday. I could have been in that dog’s place.

“Where have you gone? This is getting silly now.”

The woman has forced her way through the gap and is looking around. I brace myself for the inevitable hysterical screaming and moaning when she realises what is happening. None of this happens. All she sees is a shopping trolley, a battered lawnmower and an old mouldy carpet. She cannot see her beloved dog hoisted off the ground and gently swinging in front of her like some grotesque dog-shaped string ball. She cannot see the hundreds of worm like tentacles draining the life out of her pet like Cherryade being sucked through transparent straws.

Rita now has twenty one seconds to live, then her meat will be converted and her mind will be teased apart and examined. The vile thing on the floor continues to feed me with exactly what it is going to do with the woman’s anatomy. Her time has come. It finally drops its mental camouflage and allows her to discover what has happened to her dog.

She doesn’t scream as I expect, Rita just closes her eyes and falls to her knees and then to the floor. Her heart has given out. The thing is furious with her. It wants her to experience total and utter paralytic fear before she is cut up and dispatched. Its receptors drop the drained animal, its husk explodes into a cloud of dust when it hits the soil, and attach themselves to the dead woman and pull her towards the mass on the ground.

I do not feel educated. I feel disgusted and sick. The thing has now released me, it has shown me what is needed and planted the seeds of what is to come. I have no idea what it meant by that, nor doI care; all I want to do is to get the hell out of this slaughterhouse and wake up in bed.  I look back just one last time and then wish I hadn’t. Instead of wrapping her up like it did with the dog, all the roots have plunged straight into her body.

‘I hope you fucking choke on her.’

I push my way through the bushes eager to be out of here and wonder what is going to happen next. The thing no longer has a hold over me but I am still trapped in this dream state. I wonder what is going to happen next. I then see my past self  pick up the dirty stick and run towards the bushes screaming like a wild banshee. The picture and sound slowly fade and mercifully, darkness descends.

Chapter Seven

Something was tickling my nose. I opened one eye and saw a mass of dark brown hair draped over my face. My girlfriend was planting kisses on my forehead and ordering me to wake up.

“Hi Donna,” I said. “How’s tricks?”

She jumped back. I could see that she had been crying, her eyes were bloodshot and her face was red. I wondered what was wrong with her.

“Are you ok?” I asked. “Why the sad face?”

“Don’t you dare do that to me again, you bastard,” she sobbed before she launched herself at me and flung her arms around my neck.

“I thought that you would never wake up.”

I raised my arm up to comfort her and caught sight of my shirtsleeve. I was wearing a very unfashionable set of pale blue striped pyjamas. I pushed her off me, sat up and looked around.

The ID tag around my wrist, the metal bed and the sight of a nurse’s head outside the room told me exactly where I was. What I wanted to know was how I’d ended up here.

“Your mum is outside,” said Donna. “We don’t have long. As soon as she finds out that you’ve woken up, she’ll be in here like split-shit and dispensing mummy cuddles and love.”

I cringed; that was the last thing I wanted at the moment, or any moment for that matter. “What the bloody hell happened, Donna? How did I end up in hospital?”

“You ended up in here because nobody could wake you up,” she replied.

I looked at her, mystified. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me already.”

“You fell asleep at work, in the warehouse. Your supervisor found you on the floor at about three o clock. He couldn’t wake you up. Your boss couldn’t wake you up and neither could the paramedics who arrived half an hour later.”

I lay back down and tried to remember what I did last. I vaguely recalled having some dream about a dog but that was it. My mind was a blank.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“It’s Monday morning, you’ve been asleep for nearly two days.” She started to whimper. “I thought you would never wake up.”

I could hear the loud tones of my mother arguing with someone. It wouldn’t be long before she marched in here.

Donna rummaged through her handbag and lifted out the iPod I bought for her birthday.

“Here,” she said. “Hide this; you’ll need it in a few seconds.”

I took the player off her and put the whole lot under my covers.

“You’ll need to put the plugs in, you idiot.”

I looked at the music selection and pulled a face.

“These are all metal songs,” I said. “You know I can’t stand the shite you listen to.”

Donna looked at the ward door and then back at me.

“Your mother is just outside the door. Can you think of a more suitable style of music that would drown her sobbing and wailing out?”

I squeezed the earplugs in and thanked her. Donna kissed me on the nose and put her coat on.

“I’d better go,” she said. “By the way, your mother has already given me the third degree about your eye. I told her that I knew nothing about it. She can be a real bitch when she’s pissed off.”

I nodded and grinned.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

She kissed me again and walked towards the door, passing my distraught mother on the way out. Her face crumpled with grief and anxiety when she saw me awake. I waved at her. The last thing I heard before I pressed play was ‘Oh, my poor baby’

Chapter Eight

It would be visiting time in a few minutes,which was something I was eagerly looking forward to. I couldn’t believe how fucking bored I was. There was no television, nobody to talk to, and the ward sister had come in two hours ago and told me off for pressing the emergency button constantly. I spent at least one hour counting the cars coming and going in the hospital car park. There was almost a fight between two women earlier over a parking space. That was pretty funny.

Some anonymous doctor waltzed in a while back followed by a gaggle of very serious-looking trainee doctors who looked younger than me. I felt like some exhibit in a zoo. He performed a stupid Q and A session on my condition, and then pronounced me fit to go home in the morning. I would have been going home that night but my mother insisted on more tests and as I was on a private ward, they agreed. My mother was a bitch.

She wanted to stay with me but the doctors refused, thank fuck. I would have either killed her or killed myself if she hadn’t gone when she had. I fell asleep after she went. How weird is that? I would have though that after two day of solid sleeping I’d be as bright as a button.

I had a strange dream as well. I dreamt that I was catching mice in the warehouse and then eating them. I was just about to rip the head off my second mouse when a very pretty nurse woke me up to give me some tablets and to take my temperature. I could have kissed her with relief. I could still remember the feel of the things going down my throat.

I was halfway through counting the pretty yellow daisies on the wallpaper when Kevin and Dave slouched in. Neither had brought me any presents and that didn’t really surprise me. I wasn’t even shocked when they both started to graze through the contents of my fruit bowl. Kevin looked at Dave. Dave looked back at this brother, they both tried not to laugh.

“So you’ve been caught sleeping on the job then?” Kevin said.

I groaned. I bet they had spent all day thinking that one up. I also had the feeling that the conversation quota for tonight had just been used up. I wondered why lads had so much difficulty in talking to each other when they were sober. Women could yap for hours about any old shit.

“Are you just here for the food?” I asked.

“Well you aren’t eating it,” replied Dave. “Besides, I’m starving. I haven’t had anything to eat today.”

Dave was back to wearing his usual stained overalls. I was glad that he had made the effort to dress up before visiting me.

“I’ve got a bit of news,” said Kevin. He paused to steal a few more grapes. “Our supervisor got the bollocking of a lifetime today, it was well, funny. The old cunt really fucking lost it, he bollocked him on the shop floor in front of all us lot.”

“Jesus. What was it about?”

“It was about you. Slaphead told one of the girls that he found you with half a dead mouse in your hand.”

“Oh, did he?” I managed to say.

“The boss told him that as a senior member of the team he was supposed to set an example, and if he didn’t want to be on the slippery road to unemployment then he should stop spreading lies and rumours.”

“Your supervisor sounds like a cock,” Dave commented.

Somehow, I knew deep down inside that Laurence had indeed found half a dead mouse in my hand. As for eating them like I had in my dream, well that was just stupid; it was in the realms of fantasy. Nobody in their right mind would eat a live mouse, besides they were full of poisons and diseases. Let’s just say for one moment that I had consumed a dirty rodent, well I’d be dead,wouldn’t I? Or at least be suffering from severe food poisoning. I tried to forget about it. It was just a stupid dream.

Kevin paused from stealing my grapes, looking like he was chewing cud and decided to make an observation.

“Ere, Dave, do you know what we should call him from now on?”

“Go on, Kevin, surprise me.”

“What’s her face, that bird in the fairy tale, who fell asleep for a hundred years, er, Cinderella?”

“It’s Sleeping Beauty, you fucking moron,” I said.

“Oh, that’s no good then, you aren’t no beauty, cos my arse is prettier then you,” replied Kevin.

He opened his overcoat and carefully lifted out a can of Carlsberg lager.

“Here you go, Adrian. I’ve brought you something to drink.”

I took the can off him and saw that the bastard had already broken the tab.

“Don’t you have a sealed one?” I asked.

“I only had a quick swallow. It’s not like I spat in it or anything.”

I shrugged to myself and took a few mouthfuls. After crappy weak hospital tea, cheap lager tasted like heaven.

“If your arse is prettier then Adrian, does that mean you have a girly bottom?”

Dave punched his brother on the shoulder. I grinned to myself. This was the highlight of the day. It was almost like Friday night; beer was flowing and the lads were taking the piss out of each other.

“I’ve got a bit more news for you,” said Kevin. “We have a new boy at work.”

“You mean a new, new boy?  That was fucking quick.  So who is he then?”

“Oh, you are going to hate him. It’s some old bastard with this stupid name. I ask you, which dumb bitch calls her son Christian Meadows?”

“He sounds gay,” said Dave.

“And get this. He’s Slaphead’s new best pal. The bald fucker actually gave him half of his corned beef sandwich at dinnertime.”

Kevin abruptly stopped talking and stood up when Donna opened the warddoor.

“Okay, mate, we’re going to make tracks. Stig told us to be on the look out for any medicines lying about so we’re going to have a quick goosy around the wards. We’ll leave you to whisper sweet nothings in your bird’s ear. Make sure you give her one for me.”

“Yeah, bye, Kevin,” I replied. “I’ll see you at work.”

“I’ll tell you what, love, when you get bored of this little rich boy, why don’t you come and see me and I’ll show you what a real man can do?”

Donna laughed aloud. “Who’s been telling you lies? You a real man? Don’t make me laugh Dave.”

Chapter Nine

I had just had to endure fifteen minutes of moody silence followed by one moment of acute embarrassment.

My mum and I had a massive argument the night before. She insisted that I take another day off work because she wanted to look after me correctly. She thought that the doctors and nurses did not do their job and would be making the stiffest of complaints. The very idea of her pampering me like some toy poodle filled me with dread so I told her that I was going to work whether she liked it or not.

She didn’t like it, not one bit. My mother then commenced to sling insults, barbed remarks, and thinly disguised guilt trips at me for the best part of an hour. I let it all wash over me.

“You should be more like Donna,” she had said. “She’s a well brought up young lady and once she finishes university, she’ll do very well for herself.”

For just one moment, I was tempted to break the news to her about the real Donna, but at the last minute, I decided against it. I didn’t want her to have a heart attack. When I thought of those words, I felt someone had just walked over my grave. How strange was that?

At about half past eleven, there was a gentle tap on my bedroom door. She brought me in a cup of coffee. She apologized and said she was under a lot of stress about my father. She didn’t elaborate. She agreed that I should go to work and kissed me good night.

At breakfast, she was the role model for the perfect mum. She made me a full breakfast and was fine until I told her that I was going to walk to work. She told me in no uncertain terms that I was going to be driven there and that was that.

For a quarter of an hour, silence reigned in the car. She parked beside the boss’s Bentley and then gave me a big kiss on my forehead. I don’t know if she did this on purpose but she timed the kiss just as Kevin was passing the car holding a sweeping brush.

“The image of your lovely mum planting that big wet sloppy kiss on your bonce is going to keep me laughing all day,” he said as we watched her car drive out of the car park.

I pointed to the brush he was holding.

“One more comment out of you and I’ll ram that up your arse.”

“Stop your whining,” he said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the new boy.”

I saw the back of his grey head first. Kevin had been right, he was old. He must have been at least fifty. He was having an animated conversation with Laurence.

‘That’s great,’ I thought. We definitely needed another old fogey round here banging on about the price of beer and how the kids didn’t have respect like they used to.

Laurence saw me and tapped the new boy on the shoulders. He turned around and our eyes met.

I was choking; hot bile rising from the pit of my stomach. I could sense something ice cold and ridged scraping through my mind, leaving a depraved trail of morbid snapshots. A naked young boy’s torso sinking into a living tub of black, viscous liquid; a small dog being strangled by what looked like cooked spaghetti; and an old woman being throttled by a distorted version of herself.

“Hello, Adrian, I’ve heard so much about you,” I heard him say in the distance. I couldn’t stop the torrent of pictures. I tried to shut my eyes, tried to shake my head, but he held me with his hypnotic gaze like a rabbit caught in headlights. He took my hand and shook it. The shock of him touching me dispelled the nauseous feeling and blew the revolting images away like dust in the wind.

“Are you okay?” Kevin asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost”

“Have you finished picking up the litter in the car park, Kevin?” asked Laurence.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said to me as he saluted the supervisor and marched out of the shop.

Laurence shook his head and tutted.

“Kids these days have no discipline.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Ledbetter” Meadows smiled at me. “They think us old fogies just stand around complaining about the price of beer.”

I tried to stop myself from falling by holding onto the security barrier.

“Mr. Thompson wants to see you when you have clocked in,” announced Laurence.

I shook my head and tried to focus on my supervisor. I needed to tell him that he was in terrible danger, that the thing next to him wasn’t what he seemed to be. Laurence’s eyes were glazed over.

“Come on, Christian, I’ll get one of the girls to start till training you.”

They marched onto the shop floor, leaving me feeling like I had just been put through a meat grinder.

I sat in my uncle’s office, drinking coffee and thinking. I don’t think I heard a single word he said. I just nodded every so often.

What the bloody hell had happened down there? That weird old bastard had tried to rape my mind. It  had been nearly one hour since I saw the new starter and I could still feel the after-effects of him scraping the inside of my head. It helped to get mad. Being angry pushed away the helpless fear. I had been terrified down there, but at least I’d know what to expect next time. I hoped.

“That new guy down there is a thief,” I stated.

Alfred stopped in mid-sentence.

“I didn’t quite catch you there, young man.”

“I said he’s a thief. He’s just like the other one. I saw him putting a load of USB memory sticks in his pocket.”

I flew out of my chair, gripped the edge of his desk, and looked deeply into his eyes. “You need to get rid of him,” I pleaded.

“Of course you’re right,” he said.

I blinked. “I am?”

“Oh yes,” grinned Alfred. “Mr. Meadows will make a wonderful addition to our team.”

I sat back down and started to cry. It was useless. That bastard had beguiled everybody. The boss was holding up two sheets of blank paper.

“Look at these,” he said. “Two certificates of excellence from the London school of retail. Mr. Meadows is better qualified than Laurence. He’s cleaner too.”

How was I going to make him see the truth? How was I going to get through his fat head? That the thing downstairs was an evil mind reading trickster? I didn’t think I believed it myself.

“Would you like another cup of coffee?”

“Yes please, Jenny,” I replied.

I wrapped my hands around the cup, expecting comforting warmth, but it was freezing cold. I looked inside.  The cup fell out of my hands and shattered on the carpet. The thick crimson blood soaked into the carpet.

“Ooh, that’ll be a bastard to clean out. So then, you think I’m an evil trickster?” growled a familiar voice behind me.

His hands pressed down on my shoulders and his fingers dug into my skin. I tried not to cry out. A face dropped into my line of vision. He had tried to make himself look like a clown by crudely daubing make-up on his face. I briefly wondered where his clown costume had come from.

“I do like them a little feisty,” he said. “It makes the game much more pleasurable if they have a little spunk inside them.” He licked his wet lips.

“But you, my friend, have a bit too much fire in your belly. The tiny cracks of insanity should be showing. You should at least be on the slippery slope to submission by now, and not wanting to ram a knife into me.”

He abruptly let go of my shoulders and took one step back. “That comment hurt me, it really did.”

My uncle was oblivious to any of this, he was busy talking about the problem my mother was having with my father.

Christian’s hands slid down to his trousers.

“I think I should be the one to be ramming things into you. It’s about time somebody fucked some humility into you, my lad.”

He slipped off the braces, let his polka dot trousers fall to the floor, and started to masturbate. “Come here boy,” he croaked. “I’m ready for you now.”

I took one look at his erection, which would have put a stallion to shame, and fled out of the office. I took the steps three at a time, collided with a janitor slowly cleaning the stairs, and paused by the clocking-in machine to catch my breath. I didn’t think he was following me. I looked around to make sure. The cleaning lady was still there. I think she was expecting me to say sorry.

“What are you looking at?” I shouted.

She muttered something rude and carried on buffing the tiles. The cleaners were used to the kids being rude to them. I knew I would be sorry for shouting at the old dear later on but I needed to stay focused and angry. I also needed to get the fuck out of there and re-think my strategy.

“You’re a bit keen, aren’t you?”

I jumped and spun around, ready to punch whoever said that.

“What’s up with you?” asked Kevin. “You look stoned out of your box.”

I tried to relax. I didn’t think he was a part of all this.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Just a little tired.”

“How can you be just a little tired? You’ve just got out of your mummy’s car.”

What the bloody hell was he talking about?  I’d been at work for ages, yet the digital display on the clocking-in machine read nine o clock; it corresponded with the time on my phone.

“I think it’s about time you got yourself a new phone, mate. Instead of the brick you have now.”

I ignored his comment. “Is that the right time?”

He nodded. “Baldy fuck gave me litter duty again. I’m sure he’s got it in for me. It’s freezing out there. So, I told him and I told him straight, if I’ve got to pick up crap, I’m wearing my coat. He honestly expected me to go out there in this short sleeved work shirt.”

“So it’s not past ten?” I asked.

Kevin’s face went through a rainbow of expressions and while I waited for him to work out just why I had said that, I examined my list of options to account for this bizarre incident. Was Christian playing some sort of trick on me? I wasn’t even sure he existed. Maybe I’d gone insane, but I read somewhere that mad people didn’t question their own sanity. I could be dreaming, I supposed. Oh crap, did that mean I was still in hospital?

Kevin looked at me and then at the digital display. “Yes, it’s definitely nine o clock. You are definitely one hour early and you are still the ugliest bastard I’ve ever set eyes on.”

I could hear someone coming down the stairs and my heart started to beat a little faster.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said.

“How’s the new guy doing?”

The baffled look re-appeared. “What new guy? Are you sure you are living on planet Earth today?”

“You told me about him last night at the hospital.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” he replied. “We didn’t even get there. Dave managed to get us chucked off the bus ‘cus he was chucking stuff at some religious weirdos in suits. Look, I’ve got to go. If Baldy sees me fucking about, he’ll have me picking up litter all week.”

So, it looked like Kevin was in on this little joke as well. I wondered what they were playing at. I stepped back into the shadows so that whoever was coming down those stairs wouldn’t see me straight away. I didn’t want my new theory to be wrong, as the alternative would be unbearable, but it wouldn’t hurt to be a little cautious.

The man who reached the bottom of the stairs was a different type of clown. He had his index finger deep inside his left nostril. He gave a little start when he saw me and swiftly removed his finger.

“Good morning Adrian,” Laurence said. “I hope you are well-rested after your holidays.”

That man just could not stop from acting like a little bitch. It must have been  inbuilt into his genetic makeup or something. The comment obviously deserved a snide reply.  I was feeling better already, now that I was on familiar ground. I could always rely on good old Laurence to cheer me up.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Ledbetter,” I replied. “And how are your nutritional supplements going?”

“I beg your pardon?” he replied. He had no idea where I was going with this one. It made the final delivery all the more sweeter.

“You had your finger stuck up your nose.”

His face went bright red; he must have thought that I hadn’t seen him.

“No, I didn’t, I was just scratching it.”

This was great. I had upset him already and my workday had only just begun. I had only just started on the rollercoaster of mental punishment I was going to give the sad old bastard for trying to have me fired.

“Mr. Thompson wants to see you as soon as you have clocked in.”

I saluted him and ran up the stairs. I ignored Jenny’s cheery greeting and concerned face and barged straight into my uncle’s office. I’m sure I was supposed to wait, but I was having none of it. I had to be sure that Uncle Alfred was alone.

Mr. Thompson sat behind his desk. He was alone and he seemed to be trying to work out how to use the commands of some type of new mobile phone. A full cup of coffee sat on the edge of his desk.

“Are you in a rush, Adrian?”

“Sorry,” I said. Feeling a little stupid - I think he was expecting me to say something else - I just stood there with my back against the solid wooden door and looked around, searching for any sign of brightly coloured material. I think my uncle was trying to work out how to turn the phone on.

“I’m sorry, Adrian,” he said. “I’d let you have a play with it but I’m not even supposed to have one myself.”

I lifted the cup off the desk, checked that it was coffee inside and took a tiny sip. To be honest I couldn’t have cared less about the phone, I’ved never been that much of a tech freak. I knew that was hard to believe but I was one of the minority of twenty-four-year-olds who didn’t believe that their world would come to an end if they didn’t get the newest mobile phone before anybody else.

“I have a friend who works in one of their factories in South Korea and every so often he manages to sneak one of their prototypes through security and sends it to me. I’m telling you, Adrian, the amount of stuff they are cramming into their new models is truly mind blowing”

It wouldn’t blow my mind away. I wondered if there was a valid reason for this summons.

“Come over here, Adrian,” he said. “There’s something I want to share with you.”

I did as he asked, feeling more than a little tense. I still half-expected clown man to jump out at any second.

“You are not afraid to speak your mind, are you? I can see why Mr. Ledbetter speaks so highly of you.”

That piece of news stunned me.  What the bloody hell did he mean by that? I thought the bastard hated me.

“You see, his trouble is that it is almost impossible for him to fit in.”

“That’s because he’s a tosser,” I said.

“It’s not just that,” Mr. Thomson replied. “The man is, by instinct, a loner.  He has been since he was a child. He has no friends, no siblings, just an overbearing mother.”

I wondered if my mum took lessons off her.

“He has no social skills and a very poor grasp of basic human normalcy. He needs guidance.” He turned to me. “That is where you come in.”

“Me?” I replied. “What can I do?”

“At the moment, very little. Not until I appoint you as assistant manager.”

That is one thing I didn’t expect. How could I respond to that bombshell?

“Of course, that position comes with an incredible amount of responsibility and you are certainly not ready yet, but I think in a couple of years, and after plenty of on-the-job training, you will be.” He paused and studied my face.

“I see this has come as a bit of a shock to you. Did you think I’d let you waste your life away by tossing it off on the shop floor? I’ll have Jenny get you another coffee. You look like you need it.”

Jenny must be sick-to-fuck of making me drinks by now.

“Don’t worry about your mother, we’ve already discussed this and she agrees that it will do you a whole world of good.”

I just sat there, wondering if I was still dreaming.

“Okay, well I think I’ve covered everything for the moment. It will take a while for me to get everything set up and for plans to be put in place. Now remember, Adrian, not a word about this to anybody. I will make an official announcement in a week or so.”

He opened the door and Jenny nearly ran into him.

“Okay, Adrian, drink your coffee and get yourself downstairs. We have a new boy starting this afternoon and I want you to show him round. I think you will like him. His name is Christian Meadows.”

My cup went crashing to the floor and my sanity followed after it.

Chapter Ten

The morning passed quicker than it should have. The clock became my enemy. I willed it to go backwards like it had seemed to earlier on, but it never obeyed my pleading. Other people’s conversations became background static. Kevin’s fumbled attempts at humour and Laurence’s acidic remarks went unheard. Lunchtime arrived and, as we all sat in our respective places, I heard the call for Mr. Ledbetter to go to the office. My stomach did a slow turn. Laurence put down his corned beef sandwich. Kevin whispered to Chantelle, who put her chewing gum in the inside of his sandwich when he had gone. I left the children to their games and went to the toilet. I told myself that I needed somewhere quiet to work out just what was really going on, but in truth, I think I was just going to be sick.

As I pushed open the door, I could tell that my wish for solitude was not going to happen; somebody was in the last cubicle, humming. My urge to vomit receded, maybe it was because I didn’t want anyone to hear me empty my stomach.

Something in the cubicle hit the floor tiles with a meaty slap. I immediately thought someone in there had fallen over.

“Hello?” I asked. “Are you okay in there?”

A tiny voice whispering “help” was the reply.

I rushed to the cubicle and pushed open the door. The door hit something pink and swung back but I saw enough to know that I did not want to go in there.

“Just a moment,” said a voice in falsetto.

I heard some moving about and the cubicle door slowly swung back.

“Hi there, my lover,” said Christian. “If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll do you as well.”

Dave was bent in front of him, his garage coveralls were wrapped around his feet. Meadows had a meat hook in each hand and the points were buried in Dave’s shoulders. His head was hung down so I couldn’t see his face; I just hoped that he wasn’t conscious. Christian continued to slam his hips into him.

“Nearly there!” he cried.

I staggered back and shut my eyes against this depraved picture. “This is not real, not real, not fucking real,” I chanted.

“Oh yes it is!” he shouted back. Christian then yelled aloud as he climaxed.

“Oh he was a good one,” he pushed him off his huge penis and Dave’s body collapsed.

I thought he was dead.

“Dave fancied you. Did you know that? He wasn’t after Donna, he was jealous of her because she was sleeping with you. How does that make you feel, Adrian?”

What was I still doing here? Why was I even listening to this lunatic?

“Come on, Adrian. Let it all out, I know you can do it.”

He was using Dave’s greasy coveralls to wipe the blood, shit and semen off his body.

“Don’t worry, Adrian. I’ve had my pleasure for today. You’re safe for now. I hope you’re finding your education as satisfying as I am.”

The cubicle door slowly swung shut. I just stood there, watching the blood pool under the door and waited to see what would happen next.

The outside door banged open and Kevin barged through.

“Oh, there you are. Come on, dude, you’ve just got to see this new guy. He looks like he’s just escaped from a retirement home.” He stopped talking and stared at me.

“What the fuck’s up with you?” he asked.

I just pointed at the far cubicle. I couldn’t trust myself to speak. I really didn’t want him to see his brother like that but I just wasn’t thinking straight. He brushed past me, pushed open the door and screamed.

“Holy fucking God!” he shouted. “How the hell did you manage to part with that bastard?”

He leaned out. “I’m proud of you mate, I really am. No wonder you’re fucking speechless, that monster should have cracked the bowl.”

He grabbed my arm and herded me out of the gents.

“Come on, Adrian, let’s go laugh at the old bastard.”

If it was Christian, then I intended to kill him.

I saw the back of his grey head first. Was it the same one? He was having an animated conversation with Laurence. This déjà vu day was going seriously fucking wrong.

Laurence saw me and tapped the new boy on the shoulders. He turned around and our eyes met. Christian’s eyes went wide, it was clear that he recognized me. It looked like he was choking. Laurence was asking him if he was alright and if he wanted a glass of water.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot. Go get him a drink.”

I took this as a cue to get the fuck out of there. The last thing I heard was Kevin asking if he had fainted.

It was Laurence who found me. I don’t know whether he had been actively searching me out or he had happened to stumble upon my hastily constructed hiding place. I didn’t bother asking him nor did he tell me.

I should have known that it would be him. Who else could it be? He had the only set of keys as the other set were still in my trouser pockets.

He just stood there in front of me with his feet wide apart and his arms resting on his hips. If he were trying to intimidate me, then he would have to try better than that. I looked up at this sad excuse for a man and waited for the famous mouth to tighten. I think he was expecting me to stand up and bow my head but that wasn’t going to happen, the box of broken kettles that I was sitting in was far too comfortable.

“Just what the hell have you done to that poor man upstairs, you bloody delinquent?”

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I was hoping that the apparition was going to vanish like the other ones had. It seemed that he had found a new game.

“That man is terrified of you. He wouldn’t tell me why, so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest that you start talking very quickly.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” I retorted.

My theory of being trapped in some drug induced, déjà vu nightmare was beginning to look very patchy. He bent towards me.

“There is definitely something going on here.” He tapped his nose twice. “I can sense it and whatever it is, it’s centred on you.”

He stood up straight.

“All this, of course, will have to be passed to Mr. Thompson. I won’t allow bullying on the shop floor, and that I think, is what you have been doing. Are you listening to me?”

What the fuck was he on about? I stood up, grabbed his lapels and pulled him towards me.

“I think it’s time you listened to me for a change.”

He was wriggling like a fish on a line.

“Get off me,” he squeaked.

“In the very near future, you and I will have some serious issues to discuss and overcome. We may even become friends. But for the moment, it would be advisable if you kept your distance.”

I let him go and pushed him back, then I sat back down before I did something really stupid, like give him a good slapping.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the last straw.” He was rushing about, straightening his tie and gesticulating with his arms. He reminded me of a gerbil.

“Just you wait until Mr. Thompson hears about this one. You’ll be out on the streets dossing about with your scumbag friends quicker than you can say ‘Jack Robinson’. You just mark my words.”

Maybe it would have been better if I had given him a slap; it would have at least stopped him from running about like a fucking rat on speed.

“You just wait until Mr. Thompson hears about this,” I mimicked. “You’ve already tried to get me sacked once this week, Laurence, and that didn’t work, did it?”

He took a step back.

“You need medical help. You know that, don’t you?”

I sighed. “Look, just fuck off.”

He took another couple of steps back,

“You’re mental. You just sit there and I’ll get security to throw you out of the building.”

I watched him scamper off to grass me up to security. I wished him the best of luck. Their opinion of him was even lower than mine was.

Was I going mental? I thought I had changed in the past few days. It wasn’t something I could put my finger on, it was just that every time that fucker showed me another one of his nasty surprises, I became a little more hardened, a little less stunned. It was also affecting the way I reacted to people. I would never have walled Laurence up, no matter what the provocation. Where would it end? Was this part of the bastard’s re-education? Was i going to lose all my natural empathy and turn into him? I hoped to God it wasn’t so. I decided there and then to stop running and face him, face my personal demon.

I looked at the clock at the top of the stairs and saw that I had only been down there for three hours. I couldn’t believe it; it had felt like a week. I locked the warehouse and I was vaguely surprised not to see the supervisor and half a dozen security guards waiting for me, with their arms crossed and wanting to have a word with me.

Lunchtime was just over and everybody was filing out of the canteen with the exception of just one man, the very person I had come to speak to. He sat in Laurence’s seat, drinking some lukewarm concoction out of a plastic cup. I just could not see how this dishevelled wreck of a man had been able to scare me so badly. He looked more like some begging tramp than an evil psychopath. There was something very wrong here.

Every time I had seen this dude, he had been one mean, badass, scary bastard. He made Freddy Krueger look like a fucking cuddly bear. The bloke could scare the skin off a rice pudding. He looked up and saw me standing by the vending machine and staring at him. He immediately put his cup down and squeezed his eyes shut. I thought he was trying not to cry. I bought myself a coffee and sat opposite him.

“I’m not him, Adrian. I look like him but I’m not.”

It’s difficult to describe just what went through my mind when he said that to me; shocked to the core would be a good start. I was going to say something similar to him myself, well, maybe not, but I was certainly thinking of something along those lines. He took a sip of his coffee. There was one thing that was going through my mind that I was later ashamed of. If I killed him there and then, if I grabbed hold of the back of his head and smashed his face into the worn Formica top and repeated the action until his head looked like a stood-on watermelon, would my problems be over?

He drank some more of his coffee and I was totally lost for words. I watched this little man drinking his lukewarm shite and at that precise moment, all I wanted to do was to cry.

Then he said the words that nearly made my heart stop.

“An image of me has been tormenting you, hasn’t it?”

I slowly nodded. “How did you know?”

“I will admit, you did freak me out when I first saw you and I’m sorry if I’ve caused any problems, but now that I’ve calmed down and I know that you aren’t going to kill one of my friends in front of me I’ve been able to study you.”

That freaked me out a little, I wasn’t too sure I wanted to be studied.

“The expression on your face when you first saw me should have given me the first clue but it wasn’t until you sat opposite me, when you just stared at me. I could see it in your eyes and saw that we shared a common problem.”

“What is happening?” I asked. “Just what the fuck is going on?”

“This coffee is horrible,” he said.

I sighed. “Come on, don’t keep me in the dark. I’m at a loose end here.”

“Has it just started?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Three days ago.”

“That sounds about right. It hasn’t got a foothold yet, which means you will be the only one who can see it.” He shivered. “When people around you start to witness what it does, now that’s when the nightmare really starts. We may be able to stop it this time or at least slow it down before it gets really bad.”

“What do you mean by this time?” I asked.

Laurence chose that moment to march into the canteen accompanied by Adam, the security manager. I tried to ignore Laurence pointing at me and ordering the guard to arrest me.

“Come on, Christian,” I said, “don’t stop now.”

“Later,” he whispered.

The security guard stopped behind my chair. Laurence was beside him with his arms on his hips again and a triumphant smirk plastered across his face.

“Hello, Adrian,” said Adam. “Have you got a minute?”

This was crap, it really was. This was the last thing I wanted now. For fuck’s sake, I should have just let the idiot warble on and ignore him like I normally do, why did I have to go and do a stupid thing like grab him? I wasn’t going to be able to talk my way out of this one here and now, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, sure Adam,” I replied. “What’s up?” I finished my coffee, pushed my chair back and stood up. Christian grabbed my sleeve.

“We’ll speak later.”

I pushed my chair in and followed Adam out of the canteen. Laurence was grinning his head off. I didn’t let him bother me, I just gave him a pleasant, cheery grin as I passed him. For some reason, he stopped smiling.

He stayed where he was, scraping back a chair to sit down next to Christian, no doubt to either nosey in on business not concerning rat face or to spread a little more poison.

Laurence was blissfully unaware that Adam and I go way back; he’s the only guy who works here who went to the same public school as me. I suppose Uncle Alfred did as well but I’m not counting him, as when he was a kid, everything was steam-powered and in black and white. Adam was one of the popular guys, intelligent, well spoken, handsome, and assertive. He was just like me.

So it was a bit of a shock to discover him doing some menial job that didn’t even pay enough to cover hair styling fees. Don’t get me wrong, the lads do a bloody hard job and are certainly underrated, but I truly thought that Adam was meant for greater things, like a barrister or architect or something. I’ve never asked him why he chose a working-class career, in case he asked me the same question.

He led me to his little office located close to the entrance and ushered me in. I’ve never been in here before although I had heard of its reputation; there’s been many a story that’s done the rounds on the shop floor concerning the sexual exploits of a certain security guard and a checkout girl and the positions he bent her into in here. It was better furnished than Laurence’s sad excuse for an office: a nice plum leather chair and a modern PC fought for space with a row of monitors showing selected views of the shop and the car park.

I sat down and declined his kind offer of a drink. I was eager to get this over and done with and besides, there was only so much work coffee you could drink before the stuff made you want to puke.

“I’ll come straight to the point, Adrian. Mr. Ledbetter has filed a complaint against you.”

“Oh, has he?” I said.  “And what have I done now?”

I couldn’t stop looking at those monitors, which just goes to show how much importance I was giving this little discussion.

“He says that you hit him.”

That got my attention.

“That’s bullshit,” I replied. What a sneaky bastard. I bet he was doing this because he couldn’t get rid of me a couple of days ago.

“So you deny assaulting Mr. Ledbetter?”

“Of course I do,” I said. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t grabbed the silly twat now. All this inconvenience was delaying me from finding out some answers to the weird and freaky events that had been plaguing my life for the past few days.

“Come on, Adam. Think about it. You know he doesn’t like me. The cunt is just trying to stitch me up.” I held up my hand. “Okay, I will admit, I have thought about clocking him on more than one occasion, anyone who has known him for more than five minutes will testify to that.”

Adam laughed.

“But as for actually hitting him? No.  It would be like smacking a little kid or kicking a small dog. Besides, if I had smacked the fucker, do you really think that he’d still be standing up?”

Adam shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “I won’t bother taking this any further. It won’t be the first time that the lying little shit-stirring fuck has tried to sack someone by lying.”

I stood up. “Okay, we are both in agreement that the man is a knob. Can I go now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. Get yourself off. If you see Pinocchio, tell him I want a little word in his shell-like.”

I opened the office door.

“Oh, wait a minute, I almost forgot. Do you know Stig?”

I nodded.

“Well he’s having a party tonight and he asked me to tell you that he expects you and your fuckable girlfriend to turn up.”

I said yes and rushed out of the room, wondering why Adam had never mentioned it to me before.

I got back into the canteen in two-minutes-flat but it was too late, as they had both gone. I suppose it was a little naive of me to think they would be still there, sipping drinks and laughing about the exploits on last night’s telly.

Laurence would be cracking the whip already and dragging him around the shop floor, introducing him to everybody and attempting to impress him with his endless repertoire of useless facts and information about the various products we sold. This was something he did to all new starters.

He did that to me, he walked me around the shop floor, describing every product we sold in excruciating detail and informing me just how much product knowledge was essential for succeeding in electrical retail. I was seriously thinking about packing it all in, I had no idea that it would be so complicated, and then something happened that placed everything into its correct perspective. He introduced me to my second employee.

“Good morning, Kevin, are you keeping well?” he had said. I saw that his whole demeanour had changed. I could quite clearly tell that he was uncomfortable with speaking to this lad in a polite tone.

“Yes, Mr. Ledbetter, thank you for asking.” And I could quite clearly see that he was taking the piss.

He had turned to me and said, “Kevin is a good lad. Once I have shown you around and introduced you to everyone, you can buddy up with Kevin for the rest of the day.”

As we walked away, he had whispered to me that I should watch that young lad, as he was a slacker. I nodded solemnly and just happened to look back: I saw Kevin giving the supervisor the two-fingered salute. Kevin had winked at me and I grinned back. I had learned a lot about the store on my first day.

I couldn’t see Laurence or Christian on the shop floor, either; that was weird. Laurence was usually quite vocal when he had a captive audience. Kevin grabbed me as I walked past the mobile phone stand.

“Are you going to Stig’s party tonight?”

“Dunno,” I replied. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What do you mean, you haven’t decided? Have you any idea what his parties are like? The house will be overflowing with booze and birds.”

“I take it that you won’t be taking Sami then?”

He shook his head.

“I dumped her last night, anyway. She was doing my head in.” He looked past me then suddenly dropped to the floor. “Old bag alert!”

“Do you work here?”

A wizened old woman was tapping my arm with the end of her walking stick.

Kevin had managed to get around the corner on all fours and was now travelling at high speed towards a young mother who was inspecting a laptop.

“Bastard,” I muttered.

I turned around and flashed the old woman my best confident, friendly salesman smile.

“Yes, love, I do. What can I do for you?” Whilst simultaneously wondering if she actually thought I wore a bright orange waistcoat with the company’s logo stitched in the back for fun.

“I want a television,” she spat. “And don’t you try to sell me any of that cheap Japanese rubbish either.”

I escorted her to the Visual Entertainment Centre and turned on all the TV’s. I found that having fifty images looking back at you can always impress the pre-war generation. I then proceeded to ask her all the standard generic questions that we were supposed to ask when we had a new customer who was just craving to give us all their money— fat chance of that happening this with this one.

I was only listening to her questions with half an ear, as  I was finding the images a lot more interesting than paying attention to her mindless drivel about her desire to watch Coronation Street in colour or something like that. Her stick tapped me on the wrist again.

“Are you listening to me, young man?”

I felt the urge to shove that stick up her arse.

“Don’t you have anything cheaper than three hundred pounds? These are way too expensive.”

“Just how much do wish to spend?” I asked. This woman was getting on my nerves.  It wasn’t fair. Why did Kevin get all the pretty ones while I ended up with the Wicked Witch of the East? What the fuck was wrong in just saying, ‘I want that one,’ and have done with it?

I looked up to see how Kevin was doing. Oh, this was just too much; he hadn’t sold her the laptop but he had smarmed her telephone number out of her. I could see him putting it into his phone.

“I’ve only got eighty-nine pounds to spend and that’s my limit and I don’t want you to fob me off with any payment plans either.”

This old buzzard really was living in 1976. She’d be hard pressed to get a second-hand one down at the market for that price. Then the entire back wall filled with images of Christian in clown makeup.

“Hi there, fuck-face. I just can’t keep away from you today, can I?”

“What do you want with me?”

“I told you what I want,” answered the old woman. “I want a new television.”

Christian looked at the old woman and winked at her. He pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Well that’s bloody annoying; the others can’t see me yet. I think it’s time for another game.”

“What the fuck do you want with me?” I shouted.

The old woman had taken a step back and she raised her stick. I think she was about to hit me with it. At that point, I didn’t care; I’d had enough of this shit.

“I like your new girlfriend,” he said. “She is much prettier than your other one. Do you mind if I borrow her?”

The woman beside me vanished and her stick clattered to the floor and rolled under the phone stand.

“I think I’ll take this one, too,” I heard him say. “You can’t beat a threesome.”

The young woman who Kevin was chatting up vanished, too, leaving him talking to thin air, but he was oblivious to all of this. They appeared as images on the TV screens. Christian held their hair in his hands. The old woman was on her knees and sobbing while the mother was twisting about, trying to remove his fingers from out of her blonde hair and screaming at him to let her go. He had his clown trousers on which did little to hide his bulging erection.

“It’s your choice, Adrian. Which one of these beautiful ladies do you want me to do first? Which one should I fuck to death? Do you like your meat tender and succulent or do you prefer it extra mature?”

I’d had enough of this. I picked up the walking stick and flung it at one of the screens. The stick bounced off the glass causing no harm whatsoever. Christian began to clap. The young woman realised that he had let go and made a run for it only to bounce back when she hit the edge of the screen. He was laughing so hard; I thought he was going to throw up.

“Is that the best you can do, you sad little bastard?”

“Fuck you!” I said. I turned around and walked away.

“Oi! You aren’t supposed to do that.” he shouted back. “I’m talking to you. Come back here now or they will both die slowly. Are you fucking listening to me, you ignorant little shit?” he screamed. I ignored the hallucination and carried on walking towards the doors.

“Adrian Winters is required in the manager’s office.”

“Thank fuck for that.” I muttered. I pressed my hands against my ears and started to hum the theme from Coronation Street whilst getting off the shop floor as quickly as I fucking could.

Chapter Eleven

If Kevin had been in my position I think he would have stayed and watched; he would have probably filmed it. He’d shown me most of his video clips he had on his phone and to be honest I think thought they broke just about every section of the Obscene Publications Act. He wouldn’t bat an eyelid at some strange guy with an enormous penis raping a young woman while a distressed granny watched. I was seriously thinking about going back; just to see if he had carried out his threats. Well, why not? After all, it’s not like it was real or anything. I stopped by the clocking-in machine, dug a coin out of my pocket and flipped it. The tannoy call won.

Jenny smiled and said hi to me as I walked into the reception area. I stole a glance at her clothed body and tried to imagine her naked. Would I have stayed downstairs if it had been her up on that TV screen instead of some anonymous shopper? Would I have stayed if it had been Donna?

“Go straight in, Adrian.”

I spun around.

“Good God!” I said. “You frightened the hell out of me!”

My uncle sat in the white leather chair behind the door.  We classed this as the visitor’s chair. There was a glass-topped table next to it, with a small selection of out-of-date electronics magazines underneath. He smiled at my outburst. His office door was wide open. I could see the supervisor in there, sitting in the boss’s chair with a cheesy grin plastered across his ugly face.

I should have known he would have done something like this: the dirty sneak hadn’t bothered going back to security like he should have done, instead the bastard had spread his stinking, rotten little lies to Mr. Thomson. I just hoped that my uncle would be able to see through the little shit’s deceit. Laurence wasn’t alone, Christian was in there, too. This was getting very confusing.  I was sure it wasn’t the one who I had just seen downstairs. He shook his head and covertly held his forefinger to his lips. What did he mean by that?

“Shut the door behind you, Adrian, and take a seat, mate,” said Laurence.

He’d called me ‘mate’. What was he playing at?

“Isn’t Mr. Thompson going to be in this meeting?”

He shook his head.

“No. Mr. Thompson allowed me to use his room so we can have this little chat.”

I eased the door shut and slowly sat down next to Christian.

“Don’t look so worried, young man, you’re not in trouble.I told Mr. Ledbetter about the trouble you have been having. I hope you don’t think I’ve overstepped the mark, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I dumbly shook my head. I hadn’t a clue what either of them was going on about but I chose to stay silent for the moment as it seemed the best idea. I couldn’t get the thought of Jenny getting banged by Clown-trousers out of my head.

“Before you say anything, I think I should apologize for my behaviour earlier. It was wrong of me to go to security and if you let me have a word with Adam, I’m sure I can stop him from taking this any further.”

I got this feeling that he had just found out who my uncle was. Did Christian tell him? And if that was the case, how did he find out?

“I wish you would have said something a lot earlier, Adrian. You know the door to my office is always open for my staff.”

He then smiled at me, you could clearly see that he wasn’t used to any happy expressions, he looked like he was trying to have a crap. Alfred barged in.

“Laurence, you are needed down on the shop floor, there’s been a situation. Come on, man!”

He rushed out of the office leaving me alone with Christian; something I’d been trying to accomplish since we’d last been disturbed.

“Well, that was weird beyond weird. Baldy has never been nice to me in his life. What the hell did you say to him?”

“Shut your cake hole, you annoying little bastard.” Christian rushed over to the door and opened it a crack. “They’ve gone. Even that bubble-headed secretary has buggered off.”

He shut the door and locked it. When the bolt clicked in, I was out of that chair quicker than split shit. I felt like such a lemon, I couldn’t believe I had fallen for yet another one of his sodding games. I grabbed the onyx egg paperweight off my Uncle’s desk before I crawled behind it. The egg wasn’t really the best weapon I could think of using but it would certainly make a very big dent when I brought it down on his head.

“Now that I have got him off your back, perhaps I can get you to focus on the real problem.”

From my vantage point, I watched his feet turn one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees and then take a step forward.

“What are you doing down there?”

I knew I should have hit him when he’d had his back to me, now I’d lost the element of surprise.

“Leave me alone.”

He began to laugh. “You really are going to have learn to tell us apart, you know.”

He walked over to where I was crouching and knelt beside me. I tensed and readied the egg; if he showed any sign of donning multicoloured trousers, I would let him have it.

“I’ve got an idea, what if I wear a French beret, joke glasses, and a false moustache, would that help?”

“Don’t take the piss,” I said.

“I’m not taking the piss. I’ve done stuff like that before. There have been many times in the past when I’ve had to wear some sort of disguise.”

I let go of the egg and stood up. “How do I know that you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, let’s see. Could it be the fact that I let Laurence go without ramming an axe into his spine and then skull fucking him? Does that not give you a subtle hint? Now stop acting like an arse and sit down. Time is seriously running out.”

I mentally shrugged and did what he asked. I still didn’t have the first clue as to what was going on and he was the only one who was willing enough to dish out any answers.

“What’s with the personality change, Adrian? What happened to that self-assured, confident young man I saw in the canteen twenty minute ago?”

Like he’s got room to talk. The last time I saw him, he looked like the Leeds city beggar and now he was strutting around like Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

He put the egg back and sat on the desk in front of me. Alfred would go mental if he saw him do that. That desk was an antique; it was worth a fortune.

“It has visited you again, hasn’t it?”

I nodded.

“How many times today have you seen it?”

“Four, I think,” I replied. “Maybe five.”

He whistled softly. “That is unbelievable. I’ve never heard of one to be so prolific so early in the relationship. You really must be one nasty piece of work. What are you? The local drugs baron?”

This guy seemed to have a knack for being able to get on my tits without even trying.

“Is there any chance of you actually explaining something that I may be able to understand?”

“When this guy who looked a little like me visited you, I presume you were on the shop floor?”

“He looks exactly like you and yes it was on the shop floor.”

“Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

I told him. I didn’t leave anything out, including the part when I decided I was sick of all this shit. I was just about to reiterate that bit about me being sick of it when I saw to my astonishment that the man was weeping like a big girl.

“What the fuck is up with you?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been hunting down and exterminating these fuckers for twenty years, yet I still feel like I’ve failed when they take an innocent life.”

That was when the truth finally hit me. I dashed to the wastebasket and emptied the contents of my stomach into it.

“You didn’t know did you?”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then wiped my hand on my trousers. He killed those women, he killed Dave and I fantasized about him having sex with Jenny. I threw up again.

“Have you finished?”

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak yet.

“And I thought you knew already. I should have realised earlier. Not many folk can be that fucking heartless without knowing the full story.”

I stood up. “Move out of my way,” I demanded.

“Sit down, Adrian. You are in no position to go anywhere.”

I tried to move him out of my way but he wouldn’t budge, this enfeebled old man was far stronger than he looked. He grabbed my lapels and pulled me towards him. I felt this mad urge to giggle and shout for security.

“Why do you newbies have such a problem with listening to me? How hard can it be to grasp? Do you really want to watch him rape and kill your mother, then do your girlfriend and rip out her insides and eat them in front of you?”

Of course I didn’t. Why he was saying these things?

“He will kill everybody and anybody you have known in your whole life. You will witness every single horrible, slow murder and there will be fuck all you can do about it.”

He let me go and I fell back into the chair. The implication of just how much trouble I was in was beginning to sink in.

“I haven’t finished yet, Adrian.”

I closed my eyes “Why me?”  I said. “What the fuck have I done to deserve all this shit?”

“Don’t you start with the self-pity routine, Adrian. That only leads to self-destruction. Now look, it won’t be long before they come back so I suggest you let me finish.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me. I’m not a fucking child. I asked you a valid question, why me?”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” he said. “We don’t have time for this irrelevance, they’ll be back any minute.”

I didn’t think he was going to answer me. Why was he evading the question?

“He’s killed my mate’s brother in front of me, you say he will rape my mum and murder everyone I know; all I want to know is why he chose me? How can you call that irrelevant?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

“So you do know?”

“This is a random thing, Adrian. It has picked you because you young men will be able to offer it the most nutrition, it will get more energy out of you than anyone else.”

I shook my head. It was time to go; this loon was giving me a headache.

“These things feed off the massive amounts of life energy that dissipates when a human life is extinguished; the more violent the death, the more energy is released. Have you got that?”

I was at the door with my hand on the bolt when he pulled me off my feet, grabbing the back of my hair. Physics took over. I ended up on the floor and his boot ended up on my chest.

“But they don’t just go around ending the life of humans in secret; these fuckers need a partner, an unwilling collaborator.”

He bent over me. “And that is where you come in. I bet you can’t guess what you bring to this partnership.”

I couldn’t even answer if I wanted to; his boot was now on my throat.

“Yes, that’s right. It dredges through the contents of your horrible little mind and picks out the people that you think about most.”

He removed his foot and allowed me to get off the floor.

“And now we get to the answer to your seemingly valid question. I’m telling you now, you will not like the answer.”

I eased myself back into the chair, I was attempting not to think of anybody but I couldn’t help it. I then began to mentally list everybody I had known in my life. Oh God, oh shit, I could name hundreds, I could see many more but I didn’t know their names. I don’t think it mattered; I didn’t know the names of those two women.

“These things can only kill when the partner is watching and as you can imagine, after the first couple of gruesome deaths, most normal people go to pieces, get to their wits’ end and usually end up jumping off tall buildings or taking pills when they find they cannot stop it.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying that I’m some fucking freak?”

“It’s going to get good mileage out of you, mate.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Admit it, Adrian, you are not the nicest of people are you? When was the last time you really cared about anybody other than yourself? I bet you used to squash spiders in your fingers when you were a kid and set ants on fire with a magnifying glass or perhaps you hung cats up on washing lines by their tails and left them. What about beating the shit out of kids younger than you at school and stealing their lunch money?”

I shrugged, he did have a point, I was a bit of a tearaway. I still was, I suppose, but I’d never done that to a cat.

“Did you laugh when Bambi’s mother died?”

“Yeah, okay, well thanks for that,” I said. “You really know how to cheer a guy up. Do you do children’s parties? And what have I learnt today? I’m going to watch everyone I know die because I’m a heartless, unfeeling bastard?”

“In a nutshell, yes. It gets worse as well.”

“Oh, you are a lot of fun to be with, how the fuck can it get worse?”

“Your personal items; combs, pens, lighters, etc will be found at the victims houses, their bodies will have your fingerprints plastered all over them, they’ll be holding ripped off bits of your clothing. You will be hunted by the police and everyone you know will turn against you and try to kill you.”

“Have you finished or are you working up to a really big send off?”

Christian walked over to the door and opened it.

“Off you go, Adrian.”

I stood up, unsure of what to do next.

“I have done my best but you don’t seem to want my help. I would say have a nice life but what’s the point? You’ll be in a loony bin in a few weeks and your only visitor will be the vile creature showing you another one of your friends getting disembowelled. I offered to help and you refused it.”

“I haven’t said anything of the sort,” I said. “What are you on about? Good God, man, what’s with you?”

“You haven’t exactly got down on bended knee and asked for help.”

I smiled then, I got it. “This is a wind up isn’t it? I mean you have already described me as a puppy-killing, people-hating freak and we all know that those types never ask for help.”

“You really do have an extreme social problem, don’t you? Never mind.” he said. “I didn’t think you would understand. You types never do.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve done but I’m sorry anyway.”

“Forgiven,” he said. “Now there is light at the end of the tunnel. It is possible that you may come out of this mess with no more bodies lying at your feet.”

“Great,” I said. “So you’re like my fairy Godmother, yes?”

“I’m not too sure what you mean by that, but if it makes you happy then, yes.”

“Yeah, that’s right. You scare the shit out of me and then I do everything you say and we all live happily ever after.”

“And you have been watching too many movies. If you are very fucking lucky, you may get out of this alive.”

“You said you have done this sort of thing before?”

“For the last twenty years and you will be the forty-eighth person I’m going to try to save.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. “Did you not save any of them?”

He shook his head, “I’m hoping you will be the first. Now are there any more stupid questions or do I have to gag you?”

“I’ve got a bucket load left. Why were you so scared of me this morning? Why does he look like you? And just what the fuck did you say to Laurence?”

“It’s too late,” he muttered. When he quickly moved away from the door, the unrestricted view showed a grim-looking Mr. Thompson and an ashen faced policeman walking into the reception area.

“You didn’t see anything downstairs,” he whispered. “And I went to the toilet.” He moved back into the far corner of the office and sat crossed-legged on the beige carpet. He closed his eyes and Christian faded away like cigarette smoke. I had seen far too much today to get freaked by some bloke turning invisible. I wondered what other tricks this mysterious man had up his sleeve.

“Adrian, this police officer would like to have a word with you.”

Why do coppers have to look like they collect trolleys at Asda? What’s wrong with wearing shiny black body armour like the SWAT do in America?

“You said there were two of them up here?” the policeman asked.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” He leaned into the room and looked around. “Where’s Christian gone?”

“He went downstairs,” I replied.

“Could you tell me where your waistcoat is?”

Of all the questions I expected, that was not one of them. I resisted the temptation to ask him if he was blind just as I realised that I didn’t have the bloody thing on. I knew I’d put it on this morning and I didn’t remember taking it off.

“Don’t look down and tell him it is in the wash.”

That was Christian speaking to me, from behind, I think. I relayed the message.

“And stop looking so suspicious. He may only be Community Support but he isn’t stupid.”

“Are you sure about that, Adrian? You haven’t taken it off and forgotten about it? You see Mr. Thomson is quite adamant that he saw you wearing it.”

Alfred shook his head. “No, no, no. I said he didn’t have it on this morning.”

The officers face went through a multitude of expressions; he looked like a man with false teeth chewing a soft toffee.

“So you did, Mr. Thompson. I remember now. Okay, Adrian, you go downstairs and join your friends on the shop floor where my colleague will take your statement.”

Kevin was leaning on the clocking-in machine. When he saw me descending the stairs alone, he grinned from ear to ear.

“What have you done with the rest of the body, you murdering bastard?”

I was getting a very bad feeling about what must have happened when I left him with those two women.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Didn’t that lollipop lady tell you?”

I shook my head. “All he was bothered about was why I didn’t have my crappy waistcoat on, the weird fucker.”

Kevin leaned forward. “What did you tell him?” He seemed very excited.

“I told him the truth, it’s in the wash. I got pissed last night and I was sick on it this morning.”

Kevin seemed really disappointed at my reply.

“Will you please tell me what the fuck is happening?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Well Chantelle was trying to do a bit of a skive, what with Baldy being upstairs, and she found this baby asleep in a pram by the technology department, there was no sign of the mother. You know what bloody women are like, within ten seconds, the entire female population was around this pram cooing at it and running around the store looking for the mum.”

“Fantastic and totally uninteresting,” I said. “What’s this got to do with my waistcoat?”

“What’s the name of that Indian guy who works on the returns desk?”

“It’s Samir, you plant, and he’s not Indian.”

“Right, anyway, the Indian guy just happens to look down and guess what he sees under the pram.”

“A waistcoat?” I had to bite my tongue. I nearly said my waistcoat.

“Correct my friend but not just any old waistcoat, this was a special Clockwise Electrical Emporium waistcoat, it was totally soaking wet through with blood. The Indian guy picked it up by holding one of the buttons and this fucking arm rolled out!”

I tried to look shocked, excited and surprised.

“Oh my God, you should have seen the looks on the faces of the girls. I think one of them fainted. An arm, man, can you believe that?”

I could indeed believe it and if it wasn’t for Christian’s quick thinking, I would have been wearing a pair of matching metal bracelets by now. To make things worse, I would have been arrested by a pretend policeman.

Some time during the course of the day, my waistcoat had been removed off my back without me knowing it and had ended up keeping a dead women’s arm warm. If she was dead, that is. Somehow, I doubted I’d be sharing that fact with anybody.

“Are you sure that it’s a real arm? It isn’t someone just pissing about with a shop dummy and tomato ketchup?”

Kevin nodded vigorously.

“Oh we are sure, alright. the Indian guy swears on his mother’s life that this is the real thing. I mean, this guy should know. Have you seen his horror DVD collection? He’s got more movies than Blockbuster.”

I felt that Kevin might have been getting a little carried away in his role as the self-appointed storyteller here. Kevin couldn’t even remember the lad’s name and yet he’d turned him into an expert on horror.

“I reckon he knows what he’s talking about, and do you know what the worst bit is?”

“Go on,” I said.

“Well, he told me that he thinks the arm was ripped out, literally wrenched out of the socket. He said there were bits of skin and gore and stuff hanging off it.  God, I wish I’d have seen it.”

I pulled a face. “That’s just fucking gross.  You sound like you’re happy that it happened.”

“Well, it does beat working. What’s up, Adie, don’t you have a strong stomach? I bet you haven’t even seen a dead body, have you? Well I have, how cool is that?”

I didn’t retaliate. It seemed to be the wisest choice. That was just his testosterone talking. Christ on a bike, I’d just thought of something, that fucker said something about not being seen by other people when he took those women. Does that mean that the next time he appears everyone will be able to watch his antics?

The gent’s door opened and Christian casually walked towards us.

“What’s going on, guys?”

“You’ll never believe this, mate,” said Kevin.

Christian winked when he walked past me.

“Come on, I’ll tell you on the way to the shop floor.”

It took the officials over two hours to take all our statements. I found it funny to watch all those pretend coppers striding about, looking all important, while the proper police got on with the important stuff. When it was my turn, I told them that I hadn’t been on the shop floor except when I had to go from the security room to the office upstairs, and that was verified by Adam and Kevin. Kevin told them that he hadn’t seen me since dinnertime. I didn’t ask Christian if he knew anything about them lying for me, what was the point? I just added Jedi mind modifying to his list of tricks.

It had got to four o clock and a police liaison officer accompanying Mr. Thompson walked into the canteen. All the staff had been asked to wait in there whilst statements were taken. My uncle thanked the staff for their patience and cooperation and told everybody that they could all go home. He said that the store would be closed for a few days while the police conducted their enquiries, but we would be paid in full for the lost days. That made everyone happy; an unexpected few day’s holiday with pay was bound to please people.

Kevin leapt up. “I’ll see you tonight, Adrian.”

I nodded and he joined the rush to get out of the canteen. Christian nudged me gently.

“Wait a minute,” he whispered.

I watched everybody file out, exchanging implausible theories about the recent events and making shopping plans; I expect most of them would be rushing to retrieve their phones from their lockers so they could share the exciting news with anybody who would listen. When we were alone, I judged it safe to speak. “Is this what you meant by it’s going to get worse?”

He looked me in the eyes. “You are joking, of course. He’s only left one arm; this is just a little taster. He’s still got two whole bodies and the remains of the young woman left to play with.”

“Where are the bodies?”

“Where do you think I went when I closed my eyes earlier?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I just thought you went invisible or something.”

“Well for the moment, let’s just say that the place where I went is similar to where he keeps the victims. He will use the bodies to create as much pain and distress as he can.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just how would your mother react if she walked into her bathroom and saw a naked, defiled corpse hanging from her shower head?”

“Oh fuck.”

“I haven’t finished yet, everything that he returns will be somehow blamed on you, that waistcoat for example, it will be full of your hair follicles and flakes of your skin, he will make sure of that. Forensics will have a field day with it. Give it a couple of days, Adrian, and the police will be banging on your door demanding to know where the rest of the body is.”

“You are really fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I’m only telling you how it is, Adrian. I’ve bought you a little time; I can’t make it all go away.”

“How do I kill it?”

Christian began to clap. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to say that.”

“You’re a weird guy. Do you know that?”

“All you have to do is to find the area where it was born into this world. Do you drive?”

“No,” I replied. “I’ve never got round to it.”

“Good,” he said. “That makes it easier.”

“Why?”

“Because, now we know that its spawning ground will be close by.”

“What does it look like, this spawning ground?”

“It looks like a giant chrysalis, about seven-feet long.”

I started to laugh. “Come, Christian, I think I’d have remembered seeing something like that.”

He sighed. “Bugger, I was kind of hoping that would have triggered something. It seems that we will have to do this the old fashioned way.”

“You are losing me again, Christian.”

“It will have shown you its birth, it has to.”

“I’m telling you, it hasn’t.”

“And I’m telling you it has. Before these fucking monstrosities are born into this world they need to secure a supply of fresh, warm flesh but the same rules still apply, its companion needs to watch.”

“For fuck’s sake, Christian, how many times do you want me to say this? I’ve not seen any weird shit like that.”

I thought about that woman last night and wondered if that counted as weird.

“You have, you just won’t remember. It isn’t necessary for you to be there but it has to show you, they choose to do this while you are asleep; the dreaming brain is able to process weird shit and dismiss it when you wake up. It’s a defence mechanism. Nobody can remember forgotten dreams.”

“Hi, guys.”

“Hi, Laurence,” said Christian. “How have you been holding up?”

Laurence shrugged. I couldn’t work out which one was the worst, the old Laurence or the new one. At least with the old version you knew where you stood. He was just a sad, miserable, pathetic little bastard, who everybody hated. This one was doing his best to be friendly, he really was. He reminded me of the unpopular kid at school that you pretended to be friends with so you could steal all his sweets and money.

“I’m okay,” he said. “But I’m afraid that this police business will have a negative impact to the business, it may even affect the Christmas profits.”

While he was reeling off all this shite, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opened it and gave me a business card. I reluctantly took it off him and dropped it on the table.

“Is the baby okay?” I asked.

“The police are rather reluctant to give out any information but I did hear that they have transferred the child to social services that will look after her until her parents can be traced.”

“How long will we be shut?”

Laurence shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They told Mr. Thompson that they want to do a thorough search of the building and that could take a few days.”

He then shifted from foot to foot, I think he wanted me to look at the card he gave me but I really couldn’t be bothered.  After a period of awkward silence, he coughed into his hands.

“I’ll see you guys in a few days time. I’ll get Jenny to ring you a day prior to the re-opening, okay?”

Christian waited for Laurence to leave before he spoke.

“What did he give you?”

I turned the card over. It had a stencil of a steam train on it with the words, ‘00 model railways swap meet, Bradford Corn Exchange,’ typed underneath it.

“I have no idea what any of that means. Just what the fuck did you tell him?”

“Well, if your personal demon doesn’t slaughter him before we come back to work, you can ask him, can’t you?”

“So, what do I do now?”

He took a small, wooden bracelet off his wrist and handed it over. “Put this on,” he said.” It will stop him from manifesting tonight. At least you know he won’t kill anybody else. I’ll meet you in the car park tomorrow morning at nine o clock. Okay? Now give me your telephone number.”

“My phone is in my locker,” I said. He followed me into the cloakroom. I grabbed my coat and dug out my locker key. I could hear someone’s phone going off.

“Can you hear that?” he asked.

“Yeah, some idiot has left their phone, it happens all the time.”

“The noise is coming from your locker. Don’t recognize your own ring tone?”

He was right, it was coming from my locker but it certainly wasn’t my phone. I opened the metal door and brought out two phones, mine and one that looked sickeningly familiar.

“Do you recognize it, Adrian?”

I nodded. The lit up screen was informing me that ‘ginger bastard’ was calling.

“It’s Dave’s phone, isn’t it? For crying out loud, don’t answer that call.”

“Do I look that fucking stupid?” I snapped.

“Sorry, okay, look, just put the phone down for a minute and check to see if there is anything else in there.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a few fingers, maybe a nose?”

I looked at his face to see if there was any hint of a smile, but there wasn’t even a flicker.

“You are serious, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Let’s just suppose that by some miracle you manage to make it through the next few days without being imprisoned, or you get shot by the police, you don’t want to come back to work to find your locker stinking of rotting human flesh, do you?”

His use of unnecessarily flowery language encouraged me to have another look.

“There’s nothing else in there,” I said.

“Let me have a quick look before you close it.” He pushed me out of the way, closed his eyes, and shoved his hand and arm in. That wasn’t right, the locker was only about a foot deep and yet the locker was up to Christians shoulder.

“Got the bastard!” he said. He snapped opened his eyes and wrenched his arm out of the locker. He had hold of an old woman’s boot; the foot was still inside it.

“Oh crap,” I said. “Why didn’t I see that?”

“It didn’t want you to. It had placed it one level above this reality, it probably would have broken through in a few hours.”

He picked up an old carrier bag and dropped the grisly trophy into it.

“On second thoughts, I don’t think he left this for you. Imagine if the police started to go through the lockers? I reckon it was for them to find. Makes sense really. It puts an arm in your waistcoat and a foot from another woman into your locker.” He grinned at me. “If they had found this, you would have been so fucked.”

Sometimes he could come out with a bewildering amount of inexplicable bullshit. I was far too tired to even ask what one level above from this reality was supposed to mean.

“I’ll dispose of this for you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Does Kevin have a locker?”

I pointed to number twenty-six, the one above mine. There was no key in it, so he must have locked it after he had emptied it. Most of us did that, as there were so few lockers that were still working. He tapped the locker twice. The door swung open, then he picked up Dave’s phone, wiped it clean and threw it in.

“You could make a fortune with a skill like that,” I said.

He clicked the locker shut then wiped the door

“So how can you do magic tricks? Are you Gandalf’s secret love child? And if you are that good, why don’t you just magic the fucker away or turn him into a frog or something.”

“I can perform a couple of harmless tricks, that’s all. If I went up against one of those things, I’d be dead in seconds. Now I suggest that you go home and try to get some sleep. It will probably be the last time you’ll be able to. One more thing - before you climb into bed, check your house.”

“What for?”

“I want you to check that no pieces of Dave are there.”

Chapter Twelve

I didn’t get back home until past seven. I had left work hours before but I really couldn’t face going anywhere until I had consumed an enormous amount of beer. I walked into the first open pub I could find and stopped there for the next few hours with numerous bottles of Budweiser as my only company.

My time in the pub didn’t help one bit; the numbing sensation that alcohol is supposed to give you didn’t arrive while I was sitting on the uncomfortable stool and attempting to rest my bottle on the wobbly, circular table. I just felt like a condemned man having his last drink. In the end I had to get out of there. I needed the toilet and I had no intention of using the pub’s shit-stained facilities; plus I had an overwhelming premonition of walking in there and seeing Dave’s corpse staring back at me.

I was on edge every time someone opened that door. I fully expected them to scream their socks off. In the end, I couldn’t stand it and I fled from the pub, leaving a half-full bottle and a group of bemused punters.

The front door was unlocked, which seemed a little weird; my mother always went out to one of her stupid engagements on a Wednesday night and she always locked up the house tighter than Fort Knox. Mother was sure that everyone in the neighbourhood was after her money and she was terrified of walking back into the house to catch some lowbrow, scummy burglar rummaging through her underwear drawers.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. All the lights were out and the alarm hadn’t been set. It was all very strange, but to be honest, I really couldn’t be bothered anymore.

I found the darkness rather comforting and for the first time today, I began to relax. It would be just my luck if that creepy bastard chose this time to jump out from behind the breakfast bar and forced me to watch him kill a dog or something.

The thought of that particular image triggered something deep within my frazzled brain and it had something to do with what Christian discussed about the creature being born. If I could remember exactly where I had seen the dog, I’d be able to kill the cunt tonight and my life wouldn’t be totally fucking ruined.

The lights in the kitchen came on. It felt like my eyeballs were on fire. Before I knew what was going on, there were arms wrapped around me and someone planting kisses on my forehead. When my vision cleared and my eyes stopped watering, I saw that the lips belonged to Donna. If it had been anyone else, I don’t think I would have been responsible for my actions. I gently prised her off me so I could take a breath.

“Your mum told me about your promotion. I’m so proud of you.”

She flung her arms around me again and smothered my head in kisses. I was so close to the answer. If it hadn’t been for this annoying distraction, I could have been on my way there armed with a spade and the biggest fucking knife I could lay my hands on.

“Is mother in?” I asked.

She giggled. “Don’t be silly, Adrian. She’ll be out playing bingo or whatever old people do at night.”

She was thirty-nine and I was a little shocked that she trusted Donna to be left alone in her house. I knew she liked her but it looked like the friendship had gone up a level.

“Now, Adrian, do you think that I’d wear this sexy little number if she was still in the house?”

She took a step back and treated me to a little twirl.

“I don’t remember buying you that.”

“You didn’t,” she replied.

The number in question was an old-fashioned, full-length nightie made from a very thin gauze material which left very little to the imagination. She had nothing on underneath.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh yes,” I replied. “It’s lovely. Where did you get it?”

“I found it in your mum’s wardrobe. I bet she wore this to seduce your dad. How kinky is that?”

Any passion and lust that had been brewing up swiftly disappeared and panic set in.

“Are you just going to stare at me like a goldfish or are you going to take me to bed? This nightie itches like a bastard.”

“When you were rooting through my mother’s stuff, did you happen to notice any weird smell?”

She placed her arms on her hips. “Are we going to bed or what?”

“You didn’t get any lingering aroma of rotting bacon?”

“Adrian you are beginning to piss me off now, and I’m getting cold.”

I resisted the urge to tell her that it was her fault for wearing something that didn’t belong to her, took off my coat, and threw it in her general direction.

“Put this on, I won’t be a minute.”

I rushed up the stairs and double-checked my mother’s bedroom first. I already knew that Donna had been snooping but it wouldn’t hurt to look again. I thoroughly searched the rest of the upper rooms, including all the cupboards and, thankfully, no dismembered remains and no corpses fell on me. I returned to my bedroom, pushed Donna’s clothes on the floor, and sat on the bed. I had to realise the possibility that I could soon be performing a similar search for butchered pieces of Donna, the warm and loving girl whose bum fit very nicely into those jeans I’d just chucked on the floor. Would it hurt less if I didn’t love her anymore? Perhaps it would be best if I bundled up her clothes, took them downstairs and told her that I never wanted to see her again. It was a difficult decision but in the end, I left the clothes where they were, picked up the quilt instead and went back down the stairs.

Donna sat in my mum’s chair, the nightie screwed up in a ball and hanging off the windowsill, my coat wrapped around her and she had a face like a slapped arse. She now looked about as attractive as my granny in a bin liner.

“Just what the fuck are you playing at, Adrian?”

I dropped the quilt on the other chair, squeezed in beside her and kissed her on the lips. Eventually she responded. I tenderly took my coat off her and she undressed me, then we climbed underneath the quilt and made love.

I awoke with a medical need to empty my bladder.

“What time is it?” she murmured.

“Half twelve.”

“We need to go upstairs. Your mum said she would be back at one.”

“Let me go piss first,” I said.

I climbed out from under the quilt, naked and shivering. Donna wrapped herself up like a sausage roll that denied any chance of me getting back in. I almost grabbed the nightie but I resisted— how would I explain that one if I was seen? I picked up my coat and ran upstairs before I pissed myself.

Why does emptying your bladder after beer and sex take forever? I wiped myself on my mother’s face cloth and wandered towards my bedroom, intending to pick up my dressing gown before retrieving the sleeping princess. The door was wide open and I’m sure it was shut a second ago. I bet she’d already come up. The big lump on the mattress confirmed my suspicions, but why the hell didn’t she bring the quilt up? No doubt, the dozy cow would expect me to go get it.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” shouted Donna.

With a great deal of trepidation, I flicked on the bedroom light switch. Oh, this was so not funny; the fucker had dumped Kevin’s dead brother on my bed. The corpse’s fluids had leaked and dried on my expensive sheets. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t. How the fuck could you fight something that could do this? Christ on a bike, when did he -  it – whatever the fuck it was, deposit this? When I was making love? When I was asleep? Oh, Christ.

It more resembled a pig’s carcass than a human being. The body was facing the window and the damage that the thing had done to him earlier was painfully apparent. I wished I had something to cover him up with. I wished he wasn’t there at all. There was no way on the planet that I’d be able to explain this away.

I picked Donna’s clothes off the floor, being forever thankful that I’d pushed them off earlier and carefully inspected them for any bits that could have fallen off Dave. I was going to have to do some seriously rapid thinking to stop her from coming up here tonight and the last thing I needed was for her to find a maggot or a piece of skin in her knickers. I turned off the light and shut the door behind me. I could hear Donna moving about downstairs and it wouldn’t be long before she decided to see where I’d got to.

I spotted my mother’s old mobile on her dressing table and an idea slowly began to form. I was sure that I’d removed her number from my contacts list. I hoped so, otherwise the caller ID would be hard to explain. I picked it up and sent myself a quick message. Donna sat on the bottom stair, still snuggled in the quilt.

“Your mum will be home any minute, Adrian, what the hell were you doing up there?”

I threw her clothes at her and they landed by her feet.

“Get dressed.”

She looked down at her clothes then turned to face me. The confusion in her expression soon turned to anger.

“If you think you’re chucking me out after you’ve shot into me then you have another thing coming.”

I picked up her clothes.

“Of course I’m not chucking you out.”

“Well it looks like it from where I’m sitting, you have no idea how close you are to wearing your bollocks for earrings.”

She stood up, letting the quilt fall onto the bottom step and snatched her clothes out of my hands. I reached out, grabbed her naked shoulders and squeezed firmly.

“Will you please shut up and fucking listen? We are both getting dressed and going out to a party.”

“Are you out of your tree, Adrian?  It’s nearly one in the morning.”

“No, but I want to be. Did you not find it odd that I came home past seven, stinking of beer?”

I let go and she started to get dressed.

“No, why should I? I just thought you would be out with your work mates, celebrating.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without you, Donna, and besides, the lads at work don’t know yet; it’s supposed to be a secret.”

I sighed dramatically and looked down; I hoped my acting didn’t look too fake.

“The police think that someone may have been murdered today at the store.”

“You’re joking!” she said. “Who?”

I didn’t want to reveal too much information. I needed her to get dressed and out of the house.

“Kevin will supply you with all the grisly details at the party but we really do need to get sorted before my mother comes back. She’ll have found out about the death at the store by now.”

That put a rocket up her arse.

“Okay, Adrian,” she said. “But if that Dave is there, you are taking me straight home, is that clear? You won’t believe the pervy looks he gives me.”

She opened the door and took her clothes into the bedroom.

“I’m going to get myself sorted out, Donna. Can you see who that message is from?”

I picked up the quilt and ran up the stairs. I’d never let her anywhere near my phone before, , how many guys would? The sick shit that is sent, Bluetoothed, and copied would make any normal lass vomit. Knowing her, she would go through everything on that phone so I hoped I’d bought enough time. The trouble was, I still didn’t have the first clue as to what to do with Dave, and I knew he had to go somewhere, even if it was just for tonight. I didn’t want my mother finding it, and as for getting Dave out of the house that would require some serious thinking.

“It’s an unknown number. It’s someone telling you to hurry up as the beer is running out.”

“Okay,” I shouted back. I turned the light back on. Fuck. It was still there. I gingerly touched his thigh with the tip of my finger. It was fucking solid. Good God, it was like touching cold, wet wood. I abandoned my first idea of shoving the body in the cupboard. I wasn’t touching that again, no fucking way! I hadn’t thought this through. Dave was a heavy bastard and now that he’d gone all stiff, my options had been taken down to just one.

I laid the quilt down by the side of the bed and folded it. I un-tucked the bottom sheet and placed it over the body.

“Rest in peace,” I murmured. “You were a bit of a cunt, Dave, but I wouldn’t have wished this on anyone.”

I rolled the whole bundle off the bed. It dropped onto the folded quilt. I pulled that under the bed. The whole operation was over in thirty seconds. I couldn’t think of a reason why my mum would want to snoop under my bed tonight. I just hoped to fuck that she would stay out of here for just one night. I dug out some old rough and ready clothes and quickly dressed, placed a clean sheet on the bed, said goodbye to Dave, and hurried downstairs. It was a quarter-to-two now and I really needed to get out of the house before she got back. Donna was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, fully dressed and waiting to go. She handed me my phone.

“Who the fuck are Chantelle and Sonia?” she asked.

I should have known that she would have gone through my contact list by now.

“They’re just some girls from work.” I gave her one of my now famous toothy grins. “You’ll probably meet them tonight.”

“They had just better be a right pair of ugly old dogs, Adrian Winters, that’s all I can say.”

“Just get outside, my jealous little tart. I’ll leave a note for my mother, then I’ll join you.”

The scrawled message I left on the coffee table was what I would call a loose-ends note. I just wrote that we had gone back to Donna’s place and taken my quilt, love you loads, etc.

As we hurried through Leechester’s deserted streets, with Donna clinging to my arm and warbling on about her grandmother’s birthday next week or some shite like that, I wanted to stop at the next parked car, crawl under it and stay there. I couldn’t stop shivering. It wasn’t cold. Well it was, but it wasn’t the temperature that was causing me to shake like an epileptic belly dancer. I think I was going into shock. Kevin would know. He’d be able to tell me why I wanted to cry, scream, and twat somebody all at the same time. Believe it or not, he’s our work’s first aider. How such a numb fuck like him managed to pass the course is beyond me, but he had the certificate to prove it.

This was all Dave’s fault. Until the mysterious arrival of the body, I was fine; well perhaps that was the wrong word to use but I was certainly coping. Touching the body and rolling it up had brought home just how fucking real this was. I wished Christian were here, he’d know what was wrong with me. I’d only known the guy for a day and yet I felt that I was totally dependant on him. How did that happen? I’d never needed anybody in my whole life.

“How far is it now, Adrian?” she asked. “Why the fuck did we have to walk? A taxi would be faster and easier on my poor feet.”

How could I explain to her that I needed to walk to clear my head?

“We’re nearly there,” I replied. Kevin had given me directions earlier. It was only the next street up. In fact, if you listened carefully, you’d have been able to make out the music from where we were standing.

I had a theory: I thought I knew how the bastard managed to leave Dave on my bed. It must have happened when we fell asleep after Donna had her wicked way with me. It was Christian who planted the seed. He said that these things invaded your dreams, which suggested to me that it must have established some sort of link; how else did it keep finding me? The last time I checked I wasn’t marked down on Google Maps. Look, I was only guessing, but if I didn’t go back to sleep, that fucker would stay away. It was only for tonight; I was sure this would be all over by tomorrow night.

That was the only reason why I was going to see this Stig bloke. I was sure that he’d still have some more of those tablets left. I didn’t mind paying for them as long as they did the job of keeping me awake.

Chapter Thirteen

As we turned the corner and into Stig’s street, his house came into view. You couldn’t miss it, it was fucking massive. We lived in a big posh house but you could lose two in Stig’s abode. Donna gripped my hand tightly. I hoped that this sudden gesture of affection wasn’t a prelude to her being reluctant to going in, because if it were, she would have to wait outside, as I needed those drugs. There was an expensive sound system rigged up in the garden that was currently blasting out  god-awful heavy metal.

Those that weren’t banging to the music or lying on the lawn were crowded around a heavyset guy sitting astride a big motorcycle, parked next to a rainbow-coloured van. I recognized him, he was one of Dave’s other friends. He called himself Whiskas and nobody dared ask why. I didn’t like him. Whiskas was a bad man: he liked expensive toys and he loved the adoring attention, but he had the nasty habit of trying to take people apart who he thought were looking at him funny. I was surprised to see him here as I thought he was still in prison. He had been sent down the year before for breaking his brother in-law’s arm when he slapped Whiska’s sister. The people drifted away from him and headed back to the house. I heard him start his bike and he rode towards us. I could do without this. I wanted the psycho to ride straight past us. I didn’t want him to stop and try to steal Donna. What he waned, he generally got and that included women. Her grip on my hand was getting painful and I hoped she wasn’t getting too scared.

He stopped beside us, killed the engine, and planted his big boots on the side of the road. I thought Whiskas had been watching far too many killer android movies; he was even wearing the trademark sunglasses, what a prick.

“Greetings, Adrian,” he said. “Do you like my bike?”

“Yeah, it’s great!” I lied. Adrian Winters was not the type of boy who goes all gushy over a motorcycle or a car for that matter. I’d never seen the attraction.

“What is it?”

“Are you blind?” he asked.

I thought I’d upset him already.

“It’s a Harley, specifically, a 1990 original Fat Boy model that he rode in the second film.”

I think my blank and confused expression upset him even more.

“You know! Hasta La Vista, baby!”

He shook his head; I guessed I wasn’t going to be a part of his adoring fan club.

“I dig the black eye. Did you cry like a baby when those big hard boys bitch slapped you?”

I had a bad feeling that this encounter was going to end in pain for me. I should have been more enthusiastic with my replies.

“Hi there, baby doll. I see your taste has gone from men to boys. Is this spoilt rich kiddie able to satisfy your twisted urges?”

Donna let go of my hand, walked up to him, and slapped his face. His sunglasses flew off and hit the road.

“For fuck’s sake, Justin, why can’t you just leave me alone? And while you’re at it, fucking grow up, you don’t impress anyone with your toys.”

How the hell did Donna know this ape? And he was called Justin?  Now I could see why he ordered everyone to call him Whiskas. He grabbed both her arms in one of his big hands and blew her a kiss.

“You have a precious flower there, Adrian. I want you to promise me that you will take good care of her.”

“Okay,” I said. I’d seen this type of confrontation on TV. I knew that I was doing the right thing, by playing the mouse; if he thought he’d won, he’d fuck off. He clicked his fingers and pointed to the sunglasses. I swallowed my pride, scampered into the road and retrieved them for him. He smiled at me. I thought he was going to pat my head as well.

“Good lad,” he said.

Donna, bless her cotton socks, didn’t say a word about my submissive behaviour for which I was eternally thankful. His sunglasses disappeared into his leather jacket. He started the bike and rode away. I expected him to reel out the eternal quote of ‘I’ll be back’ but he didn’t. I turned to Donna who was rubbing her arms.

“So, how did you know Justin?” A stupid question, I know, but I had to be sure.

“We went out three years ago, it didn’t last long; he’s a complete tosspot. Treated me like one of his possessions. I also found out why the girls privately call him pencil dick.”

I wasn’t totally shaken. I thought she was going to say that he was a friend of her brother or something. So, I wasn’t her first. Donna was eighteen, so she was shagging at fifteen, perhaps even younger. I had honestly thought that I knew her. She grabbed hold of my hand.

“Don’t you worry about him, Adrian.  He’s been like that with all my boyfriends.”

Just how many has she had?

She rubbed her hand into my crotch. “Come on big boy, smile. I won’t be swapping you for a bigger model.” She started to pull me towards the music. “Come on, let’s go get drunk.”

After the incident outside, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see that Donna was getting more nods and acknowledgments than I was as we treaded through the dancing groups. We bumped into Kevin. He hugged Donna a bit longer than he should have done and then he kissed me on the nose, the weirdo. He dragged her towards his companion, Chantelle. I’d never seen her out of her work uniform before. Fuck she was hot. She’d plaited her blonde hair into dreads and she wore the tightest, black, glossy dress I had ever seen; it looked more like an item you wore in the bedroom then out at a party. Kevin was doing his utmost not to stare down her cleavage; you could lose yourself down there for days. I saw Donna was less than impressed by my earlier description of her being a little plain and I knew I would suffer for it later.

“You got here just in time,” said Kevin.

I followed his pointing finger. The DJ had finished setting up his gear on a makeshift stage and was shouting into a microphone. He was clad entirely in coarse black leather, and reminded me of Whiskas, but taller and a lot thinner. He had way too many piercings; his face looked like a studded belt. When he announced that he was going to start off with some obscure black metal band I decided it was time to find Stig

I left Donna in the company of Kevin and Chantelle. I just hoped that Chantelle would still be in one piece when I got back. After ten minutes squeezing through the packed, sweaty, gyrating bodies in the room and standing on tiptoe, I fought my way out into the hallway where it was a little quieter.

I tried asking a few of the folks who were generally slouching about if they had seen him, but they were either too far gone or couldn’t hear me because of the music. A young girl in an orange bikini appeared beside me,(how the hell she’d got out of that room intact and without being stood on is beyond me). She took a drag of the joint she had in her hand then offered me a toke. I reluctantly accepted and then she began to chat me up.

If this young slip of a lass was over fourteen, I would’ve been fucking surprised. It was apparent to anybody watching that if I didn’t get this nymphomaniac dwarf off me, the bitch would end up trying to rape me. Could this have been what Donna was like a few years ago? I smiled down and gently explained that I was here with my girlfriend. She snatched the joint out of my hand, called me a bastard, and disappeared back into the room.

A loud shirted, bearded guy standing on the stairs found the whole situation hilarious; I shrugged at him and smiled as you do. He pointed to my trousers.

“Have you got a torch in there mate?”

I waited for the punch line of ‘or are you pleased to see me’, but when I looked down, the light from my phone display screen was showing through the fabric. I had no idea who would want to ring me up at half two in the morning, everyone I knew was here, unless it was Christian. The display informed me that it was Dave calling. I only had one Dave on my contact list and I knew it couldn’t be him; Dave was still under my bed.

“Hello?” I said.

“What the fuck have you done, you little shit?  How are you stopping me?”

As soon as I heard his voice, I should have terminated the call, but I didn’t. I wanted, needed to boast at how clever I was.

“I’ve got help,” I gloated.

“It’s him again, isn’t it? So how has he done it? Has he given you some bauble to protect you against me? It won’t help you.”

“Whatever, loser. Bye, bye.” I moved the phone away from my ear.

“Wait, wait,” he shouted. “Don’t go yet. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

I waited a second or two before bringing the phone back to my ear.

“Go on then,” I said.

“If you remove that offensive item, I’ll come to you and we can sit down, perhaps share a drink and have a civilized conversation.”

“I’m not taking the bracelet off and that’s final.”

“Tell me, Adrian, has he explained why we look so alike?”

I stayed silent.

“He hasn’t, has he? I didn’t think he would. Would you like me to tell you?”

I was beginning to find his voice hypnotic: gentle, calming and a little seductive. I regretted my earlier decision of not putting the phone down, now I physically couldn’t remove the phone from my ear.

“I think we should make a little deal: I’ll explain why that fool looks like me first. You do understand that this will be an act of good faith. Does that sound like a good idea?”

“Yes,” I replied. It did sound like a good idea. If Christian wouldn’t tell me, then there was no harm in getting the information from elsewhere. I didn’t need him anyway.

“You don’t need him, but you need me. I’m your only true friend, Adrian. With my help, you will be able to have anything your heart desires. You do believe me, don’t you?”

I nodded. It was weird; it felt like he was right next to me and I wanted to believe him, I really did.

“You were going to tell me why Christian looks like you.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” His voice had become softer. “He looks like me because we are the same, or at least we were the same. He broke into your world in much the same way I’m trying to.”

He was very soothing. It was making me very sleepy.

“If you are tired, Adrian, why don’t you get your head down for a minute? We can continue this when you wake up.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“He killed many people, Adrian - women, children, little babies, priests and nuns. He is a very bad man.”

The bracelet was getting uncomfortable and I was sure people were staring and laughing at the oversized wooden monstrosity.

“Take it off; can’t you feel it scratching you?”

I was sweating. It really was warm in there. I felt like I needed some fresh air. The young girl in the bikini walked past me, holding hands with some be-speckled goon who looked forty if he was a day. She was leading him upstairs. When she saw me, the little tart stuck her tongue out and gave me the finger.

“Nice, tasty, young flesh,” I heard him say. How could he see her when he was on the other end of the phone? That brought me round a little. Something was seriously amiss here.

“You’re as bad as him, though. You’ve killed people. Why should I believe either of you?”

He was swearing under his breath. “Okay, so Dave is dead. Big deal.  He was just a dirty little queer boy who hated Donna and fancied you. It wasn’t murder; it was a mercy killing.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that those kinds of people make me uneasy, but I wouldn’t want them to die; especially the way you did it.”

“You soft little bastard,” he snarled. “Keep the bracelet on then, you cunt, see if I care. I’ll just wait for you to fall asleep, then you’ll know the real meaning of loss. I was going to spare your girlfriend, but now she’s going to be next. I’ll show her just what a ‘big boy’ can do and then I’ll do your mum - no fuck it, I’ll do them both together and you’ll have to watch as you’ll be dreaming. I’ll…”

I ended the call and turned off the phone.

After a few moments of indecision, I turned it back on. Christian still might call and I wanted to talk to him more than ever. Although I knew that the creepy one would have said anything to get that bracelet off me, his words still freaked me out, yet I still felt suspicious over Christian’s true intentions.

I held the phone in front of me, looking at the display and willing it to ring. After my little conversation with Creepy Christian, I felt relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Does that sound strange? I guess it did, considering he’d just threatened to murder my mother and Donna the next time I fell asleep, but that was just it: Creepy Christian had just shown his trump card. If I kept this bracelet on and stayed awake, I would safe, there’d be nothing he could do. There was another reason why I was relieved. My theory about me being vulnerable when I was sleeping had been proved correct. I’d just had it straight from the horse’s mouth. Unless he was lying. I dismissed that thought immediately as paranoid double-thinking that would only give me a bloody headache.

The guy on the stairs was still there and was giving me some very strange looks.

“Do you know where Stig is?” I asked.

He pointed up.

At last! I thought. I’m getting somewhere.

“Cheers,” I said. I walked towards the steps and he moved, straight into my path. He held out his arm, he looked like he was going to hug me; either that or that he was pretending to be a scarecrow. I looked up at this goon and I could now see why he had grown the beard. He must have had a severe acne problem as a teenager, the naked skin looked like it had been flayed with a cheese grater.

“And where do you think you are going?” he demanded.

His breath smelt like he had been eating his own shit.

“I thought my previous question would have answered that,” I said.

Was my response too clever for him? It didn’t look like he was going to move. I couldn’t work out whether he was taking the piss, was Special Needs, or if Stig had hired security.

“Nobody is allowed upstairs,” he announced.

“You let the child in the bikini and her molester upstairs, why I can’t I go?”

“Why? Do you want to watch?”

“No thanks, I don‘t appreciate the qualities of underage voyeurism. I thought that would be more your specialty, with you looking well over forty.”

“Don’t get clever with me mister or your black eye will get a friend. Now turn around and rejoin the party.”

This joker was seriously beginning to get on my tits. He must have thought that standing two steps above me and looking like he was trying to fly was going to deter me. There was no need to act like a mouse in this instance. I rabbit punched him in the testicles then moved to one side so he could fall on someone else instead of me. I left him sobbing into the lager-soaked carpet and cradling his glowing wedding tackle while I continued my search unhindered.

The upstairs hallway was heaving with the inevitable type of person that always goes to a party and ends up hanging around on the steps, getting high or drunk and avoiding the crowded dance floor. I hadn’t a clue what the guy with the sore gonads was up to unless he really was retarded, or perhaps he’d just taken a personal dislike to me. It was at this point when something about this particular party seemed slightly out of place. I’d been to a few local parties and they were generally populated by the same old crowd, but the people I saw as I hurried up the steps were complete strangers.

The line for the toilet stretched to the top of the stairs. There would have been more people in line if it weren’t for the fact that most people just went outside and pissed against the house. I asked several people the Stig question, but all I got back was a couple of head shakes or shrugs. I’d bet half the people here didn’t even know who he was, which would explain why I didn’t know these people. I was surrounded by gatecrashers. The ones sat against the wall passing joints were no help; in fact I began to doubt that the guy was in the house at all.

There was no point in searching the bedrooms, they were always occupied by pissed-up couples shagging on coats and jackets.

Somebody was shouting at the base of the stairs and I guessed loud shirt had yelped through the worst of the pain and now wanted revenge. Fuck, I doubted that I’d be able to surprise him a second time. I should have hit him harder; maybe booted him in the head to knock him out. If I’d have known that it would have been this much of a pain in the arse to see Stig, I’d have taken Donna to the supermarket, bought a jar of strong coffee and eaten the stuff with a spoon. Loud shirt was now limping up the stairs.

I knelt down against the wall, pretending to be like the rest of the wasters up there. Loud shirt had made it to the top of the stairs and was interrogating the same people I’d previously asked. He‘d get no help from those I thought, until one of the bastards pointed towards me. I then did something unbelievably stupid: I un-flattened myself from the wall, stood in the middle of the hall, and gave him the finger. It was a dumb thing to do because at that precise moment the toilet door opened and another guy in a revolting shirt emerged, it was obvious that he knew the other one; they could have been fucking twins. He witnessed the aftermath of my gesture and one look from his colleague made it clear that I was caught, and they would fucking kill me.

I raced towards the closest door; I looked back and saw that a young idiot had bought me a few seconds of time by offering his joint to one of the loud-shirted freaks. The idiot in question now had an evil-looking knife pressed against his cheek. The girl sitting next to him was finding the whole situation hysterically funny.

I pushed open the door, slipped inside and bolted it shut . It was only one of those flimsy bolts and would probably break off after one good kick, but it made me feel a little better. I turned around and was confronted by a blank-eyed stranger pointing a big silver pistol at my nose. There were other people in the room but as my eyes were glued to the rifling inside the barrel of that silver pistol, I had no inclination to be nosy.

“For fuck’s sake, Pete, put your toy down. Adrian’s a mate.”

The goon named Pete reluctantly lowered his cannon and gave me a look so dirty even Donna would have had trouble matching it. I’d never had a gun pointed at me before and I’m proud to report that I didn’t piss myself, although it was a close run thing, fucking hell. Pete didn’t look half as scary now that the gun was away. He was an ugly, weedy little bastard with shoulder-length, greasy black hair and matching goatee. He also had a terrible dry skin problem, and I bet that he’d never heard of moisturizer. I can’t forget to mention the shirt: this Pete guy’s shirt made the other two fuckers on the stairs look positively plain.  Stig was behind him, lounging about on his bed; he didn’t seem the least bit bothered that somebody had tried to kill me.

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

I wanted to say ‘through the door’, but I was still too scared to utter any sarcastic remarks. Stig was laughing his head off. I wasn’t sure what he found so amusing but I took this as a good sign that I wasn’t going to get shot.

“You’d better go find out what my mate has done to your big hard boys who were supposed to be guarding the bedroom.”

Mr. Louder Shirt tucked his gun down the back of his pants, shouldered past me, and left the room, thank fuck. Stig sat up on his bed and beckoned me closer.

“So what can I do for you, Adrian? You seem to be a little stressed.”

I picked up a wire bag tie that was lying next to a pile of fingerless latex gloves and wound it around my little finger.

“I need to stay awake for the next couple of days,” I said. “I need some more of those tablets.”

Stig clicked his fingers and both monkeys turned around.

“Is that box of Provigil still kicking about?”

One monkey nodded and started to rummage through a cardboard box under the desk. A gentle tap on my right shoulder was the only warning I got before the kidney on my other side exploded into a hundred pulses of deep red agony.

I came-to a few minutes later; the pain in my side had settled into a deep grinding ache. Taking the piss out of big ugly blokes wearing Hawaiian shirts on an early January morning didn’t seem that funny anymore. I kept my eyes shut until I could work out exactly what was going on. In other words, if they still thought I was unconscious, I wouldn’t be subjected to any more pain.

“Nobody is that stupid. It’s fucking obvious what we’re doing here, even to a middle-class cunt like him.”

“Just calm down, Pete, I’m telling you it’s cool. Adrian won’t tell anyone about what he’s seen.”

“He won’t be able to say anything, he’ll be dead.”

“You had better watch your mouth, Pete. I don’t take kindly to people threatening my friends.”

“I’ll say what I want and do what I want and what I want to do is get rid of this.”

Somebody stood over me, I could feel his feet at either side of my hips. I heard a metallic click and I flinched, fearing the worst.

“Your little friend is only pretending to be down for the count, Stig.”

He booted me in my bruised kidneys and another wave of excruciating pain crashed through me. I cried out and tried to curl into a ball.

“I think it’s time to go. Your unprofessional behaviour is making me feel very uncomfortable. Steve, put the cash back in the case.”

“What about the skag? It’s what we came for.”

“Leave it. I don’t want it to get out that I’m dishonest.”

Laughter echoed around the room.

“Sit back down, Stig, or I really will blow this fucker’s head off.”

“For crying out loud, Pete, you wouldn’t get out of this house alive if you pulled that trigger.”

I opened one eye and then the other; nobody was paying me any attention. Pete was still stood above me, with his legs wide open and his meat and two veg just within optimum punching distance; the opportunity was too good to miss, especially considering what he had just done to me. My arm flew up, Pete dropped his gun, which fell on my chest, bounced off and landed on the carpet. He collapsed by my side. I fully expected his friends to dive into me with flying feet, but it never happened. They walked over me, grabbed Pete and dragged him out of the room. The money and the gun stayed where they were. Stig walked over and helped me up. The answer to why I didn’t get a beating was answered when I saw that Stig’s monkeys were holding very big guns. Stig sat me on the bed and gave me a glass of water. I slowly sipped it, enjoying Stig’s acute, silent embarrassment.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

I shook my head.

“You’ve got brains, looks, your family is wealthy, you went to a good school, and you’ll breeze through life with everything handed to you on a plate. Go back to your life, Adrian. Life is not greener on the other side. If you carry on playing the bad boy you will end up on a slab.” He sighed. “How’s the side?”

“Hurts like a bastard.”

“The pain will fade.” He folded my hand over the box of tablets and escorted me to the door.

“Now this may be a little tricky. I’ll be gone for a couple of seconds. Now, you need to follow the instructions, okay?”

He put his hand over my mouth. “No talk, just nod. Push the bolt in as soon as I’m gone. I’ll knock twice. Come out and walk straight ahead. Do not look at anyone and walk straight to the steps and down.”

I nodded.

He patted my shoulder. “You might even get out of here alive and undamaged. Are you ready?”

He slipped out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with the two monkeys, enough money to buy a house, and loads of bag-fulls of light brown powder that I knew for a fact wasn’t ground ginger. As promised, the twin knocks arrived, the monkeys waved goodbye, and I slid the bolt back. I opened the door and stepped out to meet my fate. The loud-shirted gentlemen were stood in the hallway, two at one side and the other with Stig opposite. Even with Stig’s specific instructions, it was difficult to avoid their murderous gazes. Even the sound of my rapidly beating heart could not mask the sound of two flick knives flicking open.

The urge to bolt down the hallway and down those stairs was unbelievable, but I held my nerve and walked past them. I didn’t even quicken my pace. I needed to show these yobs that I wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone. I also trusted Stig to keep them off me. I wondered if Kevin knew the truth. And if he did, how long had he known and why hadn’t he told me?

“Come around here again, kid, and I’ll cut your balls off.”

I didn’t retaliate, what was the point? I’m sure that the next time Pete went to the toilet, he’d be wishing his balls had been cut off. My hand was in my pocket holding my phone; I wondered how long it would take the police to get here if I gave them an anonymous tip off, but I’d probably be implicated myself which was no good, especially if they decided to search my house.

The guy who had offered the toilet man a toke on his spliff was playing mouth gymnastics with the woman next to him, so I guessed that it wasn’t his sister. I knelt beside him and nudged him. He looked up, his eyes were red and slightly out of focus. When his girlfriend saw me, she smiled, revealing a set of teeth that needed some serious dental work.

“You’re cute,” she said.

“Got any skag?” I asked.

The guy violently shook his head, “Hell no, we don’t touch any of that stuff, Jesus man! Do we look like smack heads?”

“Sorry,” I said. I stood up. They returned to their kissing. As I descended the stairs, I stepped over a dark-haired boy who was lying in his own vomit whilst two girls in cheap blouses were taking off his shoes and finding the whole situation the funniest event in the world. I stopped and stared at them. I felt like I was watching a wildlife programme; these idiots and everyone around me seemed like a different species. I was an outsider. I didn’t belong. If this evil thing did murder everyone here, would I notice or care?

“What are you looking at?”

I ignored her question and continued my downward journey, leaving them to their antics. The girl in the orange bikini sat on the bottom step crying; there was no sign of the geeky old dork with the glasses so I guessed that he’d had his wicked way with her and fucked off.

A lad not much older than her put his jacket over the girl’s shoulders. He was attempting to comfort her while his hand was getting closer and closer to her left tit; it was fascinating to watch.

As they were both so engrossed in each other, I reached down and stole her drink that she had left on the step above her. My need was greater than hers was. I quietly opened the box of tablets and pushed out four; the other foil strips disappeared into my back pocket and the empty box went over the banister.

I washed the tablets down with what tasted like cheap white wine infused with a vile taste of dope smoke. I put the bottle back into its original position, not that the girl noticed it was missing. The boy’s flimsy masquerade of comfort now included having his hand inside her top and his tongue inside her mouth. I hoped they both got VD. I stepped over them, accidentally clipping the boy’s head with the heel of my hiking boot and wandered back into the main room.

My wandering stopped exactly one foot away from the door. My path was blocked by a group of hot, sweaty teenagers dancing to the beat of the migraine-inducing racket that the DJ had put on his decks. I think I preferred the rock music to this rap stuff. At least it would make it easier to find Donna.

She hated this hip-hop rubbish with a vengeance so there was no way she would be dancing. She’d have her back to the wall, her fingers in her ears, and she’d be giving that Chantelle loads of dirty looks, complaining to Kevin how bad this music was, and probably wanting to go home. That sounded like a good idea to me, but not to my house obviously.

There was a young girl next to me, sleeping. She was slumped on perhaps the only intact chair left in Stig’s house, and she was snoring her pretty little head off. I pushed her off and stood on the chair so I could get a better view and see above the heads of these dancing idiots. I couldn’t spot her anywhere. She wasn’t stood by the wall like I’d thought, unless this music drove her outside, that made sense. In fact, it made a lot of sense: why would anybody want to punish their ears by listening to this shite?

Going outside was suddenly a very good idea and as soon as possible, too. Sleeping beauty didn’t seem to be happy with me borrowing her makeshift bed and was busy tugging at the sleeves of some bald, ugly bloke who was twice the size of me. I doubted that my poor body would be able to take any more punishment tonight and the way my luck was going, this meathead would be aiming to pull my arms and legs off.

I took one last look before I dashed to the door and would you believe I saw them? Well, I spotted Kevin first, he was in the middle of the room, dancing. Kevin’s idea of dancing was staying in one spot and jumping up and down. He didn’t care that he looked like a total cock. Donna and Chantelle were next to him doing this same stupid bounce, so much for her not liking this type of music.

Kevin’s hand kept slipping into Chantelle’s, so it looked like those two had clicked. It annoyed me that they were enjoying themselves and I was as miserable as fuck. I bet they wouldn’t give two tosses if that shaved gorilla was about to cave my skull in. I jumped off the chair and melted into the bouncing crowd. I would’ve liked to see him get his fat carcass through that lot, not that I thought he would follow. He was too busy trying to save that chair for his sleeping princess.

I leaned forward against the wooden blocks that made up the stage and looked for any drinks that anyone might have forgotten about, but my luck was out this time. The tablets were making me so thirsty. I was about to climb on the stage when the music stopped, and my ears thanked me. The DJ asked for requests, some laughed at him, others told him to fuck off, but the majority told him to put the music back on.

Somebody tapped me on the back of the head.

“What about you? Is there anything you would like to hear?”

I shook my head and hoped he would pick on somebody else. He had knelt down behind me; I could feel him breathing down the back of my neck. What the fuck was he playing at?

I couldn’t move away from the stage as two big Goth girls had hemmed me in and were taking advantage of the lack of music to discuss in detail the size of their boyfriends’ penises.

“Would you like to hear the dying screams of your girlfriend as I gut the bitch with a cleaver?”

I pushed the two girls into a lad with bright green hair and managed to turn around.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I shouted.

“I’m enjoying myself, Adrian. I’m connecting to the folks around me. You’re not very good at making friends, are you? Well done on your performance upstairs by the way, that was a magnificent punch.”

“You saw that?”

He smiled. “Of course. I’ve got to protect my assets. Something that Pete wasn’t very good at.”

Somebody behind me was shouting in my ear.

“How long have you been here?”

I wished that woman behind me would shut the fuck up. He crawled towards me on his hands and knees to the edge of the stage. His breath smelt of strawberry sweets and cinnamon.

“You can stop asking stupid questions while desperately thinking of what to do, Adrian. I’m not stupid.”

He pressed his finger against my lips and looked behind my head. “Keep your voice down. That fat bald bastard is still looking for you and I wouldn’t want him to harm you. Guess what! I’m not invisible anymore.”

He leapt to his feet, punched the air and shouted “Energy, I want energy!” at the crowd. He put the music back on and got back down to my level.

“To answer your earlier question, I’m always with you now. I couldn’t do anything because of that fucking voodoo charm on your arm.”

He winked at me. “And now you have lost it. You can’t believe how fucking happy I am.”

He was right, I had lost it. I wanted to cry, oh fuck. It must have fallen off upstairs. It would be lying on Stig’s bedroom. I twisted around and hit that fucking woman who was getting lippy.

“Get out of my fucking way, you fat cow.”

Oh Christ! I couldn’t move! I couldn’t fucking move!

“Now that’s very naughty, you can stay exactly where you are, I’ve waited too long for this moment and I don’t want you to miss a single second of my performance.”

My feet were stuck to the floor. The carpet had grown over them and was slowly growing up my ankles.

“The more you struggle, the faster it will grow. Don’t worry, boy, it will be over before you know it. Now, where is she?”

“If you touch a single hair on her head, I swear I’ll fucking destroy you.”

His hand whipped out and seized my ear. He pulled me forward and gently caressed my cheek with his other hand. His fingers were freezing. It was like being touched with icicles.

“You turn me on when you get mad, you know? Your naked emotions send a delicious shiver all the way down my back. So, please, carry on, as there is nothing better than enjoying an appetizer before the main course.”

His head jerked up. The hand holding my hair tightened. I clenched my teeth against the pain.

“There she is, dancing with that stupid friend of yours.”

His arm stretched and telescoped out across the room. I followed it the best I could with my eyes. Someone behind me started to scream, whether this was because he had grabbed Donna or someone had noticed his impossibly long arm, I couldn’t tell. The thing, this evil monster, was right: people could see him. Somebody behind me was ordering him to let go of my hair yet this same person said fuck-all about his arm growing another twenty feet. Surprisingly, he obeyed the shouter’s demand and let go. He blew him a kiss.

The crowd behind me was moving back. I had ceased struggling, it was useless. The carpet fibres had reached my knees and were reaching out and trying to snag my hands. I slowly shifted my head sideways, the movement didn’t seem to cause the carpet to grow any faster, and I turned my head to the left and saw his arms retreating towards the stage. He had gotten hold of her neck and dragged her back; she struggled like a speared fish.

He had Chantelle; the fucker had got the wrong girl. He pulled her onto the stage and bent her back over his knee. Chantelle was giving it all with her voice, she sounded like she was giving birth. He clicked his fingers and she went limp.

“Noisy bitch,” he muttered. The demon tutted like an old woman when he saw that the carpet had stopped growing. He clicked his fingers again and I was suddenly encased in the stuff. It was holding my eyelids up, I couldn’t even blink. I held my nose to stop the revolting stink of stale beer, piss, and fag ash from going down my throat.

“I can’t allow you to miss this one,” he said. He held his hand out and a claw hammer appeared in it. Why wasn’t anybody trying to stop him? It was obvious what he was going to do. Where was Kevin?

“Don’t cry, Adrian. Don’t weep for these animals. It’s only meat. They are only…”

He stopped in mid-sentence and looked sharply at me.

“This isn’t right, you’re relieved about something. What are you hiding from me?”

Oh God, oh God. What could I do? I sure as hell didn’t want Chantelle to die but I couldn’t let him find out that he’d got the wrong girl.

“Let her go,” I pleaded. “You don’t have to kill her. Look, you’ve already done it. I’m already an outsider, I can’t relate to any of these people anymore.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t be begging for her life.”

He reached out and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“Can you see better now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He clicked his fingers and Chantelle started moving again. He lifted the hammer high and smashed it into her jaw, he pulled it out and hit her again and again, laughing and whooping every time the hammer punched into her face. He didn’t stop until her head looked like it had been hit by a wrecking ball. The carpet fibres quickly retreated, leaving the stink clinging to my clothes and skin. When they had cleared my hand, I wiped my face clear of the warm lumpy soup that showered me during his frenzied attack. I was doing my best not to get any of it in my mouth. He sat on her chest, panting heavily and licking the blood off his fingers. The claw hammer had gone. He nudged the record deck with his elbow and the music abruptly stopped, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing.

I took one step back and then another. He was still picking out the scraps of flesh from in between his fingers. I didn’t think he saw me retreating. I took one more step back and my dulled brain woke up and calmly informed me that this room was previously packed and I shouldn’t be able to move anywhere. I turned to face the back wall, the party guests were still there. They were frozen like stone statues and had been stacked like logs at the back of the room.

“I didn’t have the energy to do both. I don’t know why.”

Was he talking to me or himself?

“She was your girlfriend, Adrian. She loved you more than anything. Donna should have been like an emotional power station and lit me up like a Christmas tree when I extinguished her life.”

I could have wept with joy when I saw her. I didn’t. I attempted to think of something else. Donna had been stacked on top of Kevin; her knees were resting on his face. He was still muttering to himself, he wasn’t watching me examine the bodies. I pressed the palm of my hand against her cheek, she was warm but solid, and she seemed more like a shop mannequin than a live human being. Something was hanging out of her trouser pocket. I didn’t know how it had gotten there but I didn’t question the will of the Gods. I lifted it out, held it in my hands and turned around, holding it behind my back. He had finished cleaning his hand and was walking towards me. He looked puzzled.

“How did you get over here?” he asked.

“You shouldn’t be able to follow me yet.” He spun around and sniffed the air.

“Who’s there?” he shouted.

“What were you doing, Adrian? Did you remove something just then?”

“I was going through their pockets to see if there was anything worth stealing.”

I stepped sideways so he wouldn’t see her face. He was going to figure out at any minute that he’d killed the wrong girl. If he saw Donna, I don’t know how I’d stop him.

“Her last thought was for a young man she slept with last week called Alan. Your name and face didn’t even surface. Why do you think that is? She’s left a bad taste in my mouth, Adrian, I feel confused and disorientated.”

“Isn’t it time you fucked off and let me grieve in peace?” I pushed him and he staggered back, I was more surprised than he was.

“That’s just the point, Adrian: you are more angry then upset. It’s like you hardly knew her.”

He brushed past Donna and my heart skipped a beat. His whole posture radically altered. He now looked more insectoid than human, and he stretched towards me and sniffed my face like a big ugly dog.

“What are you hiding?” he demanded.

I gripped my bracelet tighter. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I was so reluctant to put it back on. He would disappear and everything would go back to how it was.

He enveloped his hands around my head and stared into my eyes. It was worse than before, it seemed like he was scraping the back of my brain with a cheese grater. He was swimming through my mind like you would a telephone directory. He picked out the image of me going through Donna’s pocket. He experienced the relief I felt when I saw that he had picked the wrong girl and the image of Kevin holding hands with Chantelle.

“You bastard,” he said. “You dirty, sneaky bastard.”

He let me go and I staggered back, trying to keep my balance.

“Take it out of your pocket and throw that thing behind you,” he snarled.

The first part of his order was done with relative ease. He started to nod and grin and that’s when I threw the bracelet at him. He squealed like a piglet and fell into the piled-up bodies. They rippled like a stone falling into a still pond. One by one, the bodies at the top rolled over and fell on him. He disappeared under an increasing pile of stiff bodies. His squealing continued until the last body fell and covered his head.

I picked out a blob of congealing blood from the corner of my eyes and wiped it on the wall. One of his hands protruded from under the pile of bodies. I stamped on it and the hand flattened out like soft clay, then quickly returned to its original size when I took my foot off it. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and slowly counted to ten. The same surreal landscape was still there when I re-opened them.

What I should do now? What I was supposed to do was to dig through all those bodies, dig out the bracelet that had sunk into Creepy Christian’s chest and put it back on. How did I know what to do? Fuck knows, call it instinct, call it predetermination, call it whatever the fuck you like as it wasn’t going to happen, not yet anyway, there were a couple of tasks I had to do first.

Removing Chantelle’s body took first priority, I didn’t want that to appear in my bed nor did I want Kevin to see her like that. I knew he was only after one thing with the girl, but even so, he wouldn’t want that thing on the stage to be his last image of her.

Once I’d completed that task, I would then get the bracelet, grab my girl, and find some place to hole up until the morning.

Chantelle was still in the same place, lying in a puddle of red and grey porridge. I stood above the woman that I had fantasized about on more than one occasion while I was at work, and I thought about just how I was going to conceal this one. I thought that dealing with Dave’s body earlier would have made this one easier, but it didn’t; it was going to be worse. I didn’t fancy Dave, not one bit, and despite her head now looking like a mashed up cantaloupe, everything else was intact.

She was still warm. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, nobody would know. I kneeled by her feet and placed my hand on her knee. Her skin was silky smooth and my hand glided all the way towards her thigh. I took one last look around to see if anyone was looking and I caught my reflection in a mirror. A duplicate of myself was stood behind me, the look of abject disgust was written all over his face.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” he admonished.

I jerked my hand away as if it had been electrified. The other me in the mirror had gone. I climbed off the stage, picked up a discarded jacket, and gently placed it over her. It was his fault, he might be trapped under those bodies but his proximity was still influencing me. Oh God, oh shit, I would have done it as well. He was trying to make me lose my humanity, trying to turn me into something like him. I would have to get this over with quickly before he tried something else.

I checked on Creepy Christian. He hadn’t moved but I could now hear panting. He sounded like a big hot Alsatian. I just hoped that the bracelet and the weight of those bodies would keep him there until I had finished. I took off a belt that was holding up some ugly goateed lad’s black leather trousers and ran back to Chantelle. Using the belt and the jacket, I made a hood that covered what was left of her head and fastened it around her shoulders. I figured it would keep the mess in place and stop any bits from dripping down my back. I lifted her up and over my shoulders. She didn’t weigh that much.

I carried her out of the room and into the hall; the weird effect continued out there as well but instead of the bodies stacked up, they had just slumped where they were. The young lad still had his hand inside the girl’s bikini top despite falling one-step below her. I kicked his hand out of there when I passed him. I would have to hurry up, her body was beginning to cool down very quickly and I didn’t want to end up with a stiff unworkable body, not for what I had in mind.

The bodies sprawled over the steps made it difficult to climb up with the added weight of Chantelle on me, but I managed it after a few minutes of careful negotiation. I turned left and walked towards Stig’s bedroom.

I put her down by the hall and opened his door. Stig, his monkeys and the three loud-shirted bastards were all in there. The monkey that had waved at me was on the floor and I doubted that he would be getting up ever again due to the ragged red hole in his chest. Pete was lying next to him, but I couldn’t see anything wrong with him. His gun was still in his hand. It appeared that there had been a little altercation just before Creepy Christian had pulled his little sleeping trick. I shrugged; it wasn’t going to alter my plans.

I went back into the hall and dragged her into the room. Stig was lying on the bed, which was fortunate because that was just where I wanted him. After searching through both of his trouser pockets and finding what I needed, Chantelle joined him on the bed. I couldn’t unfasten the belt and jacket, they were too sticky to remove with my fingers.

One of the goons had a large hunting knife that made mincemeat of the material. I set up a little scene using Chantelle’s hand and Stig’s under-carriage to complete the effect I was after.

There were a few more things I needed to do: the briefcase full of money was taken out of the room and all their precious brown powder found a new home in an old Tupperware box I found under the desk. I placed the box on the briefcase. The finishing touch was to remove the pistol from Pete and put it in Stig’s hand.

I left them like that and locked the door using the padlocks I’d found in Stig’s pocket. Creepy Christian wasn’t the only one who could leave people in the shit; the only difference here was that Stig deserved it. The stuff in the box was emptied onto the floor. I ground that into the carpet with the heel of my hiking boot. I’d like to see them try to hoover that up with their nose or whatever they did with it. As for the money, well I un-wrapped the twenty pound note bundles and threw them into the air. They wafted down the steps like leaves from an autumn tree, covering everyone and everything in used, crumpled English notes.

When I put the bracelet back on and reality snapped back to normal those drunken and drugged-out idiots would no doubt cause a full-scale riot when they discovered they were wearing coats of cash, and as for Stig, well I’m hoping that seeing the beautiful but bashed-in Chantelle lying next to him with her cold dead hand around his cock would give the cunt a giant heart attack.

I was now confident that I could retrieve the bracelet, let everything return to normal, and take Donna somewhere else. We could always get a taxi into Leeds, I supposed, visit a nightclub then book into a hotel or bed and breakfast. If it had been a little earlier, I could have taken her to an expensive restaurant and had a candlelit meal. Girls love all that romantic shit. The only restaurant open in Leeds at three in the morning would be Subway and it wouldn’t really feel the same. Maybe, I’d get lucky, there had to be a Chinese or a posh Indian still open.

There were some notes stuck to the bottom of my boot, I peeled the money off and then scraped my heel against the edge of the steps. The stuff that came off looked like wet sand. Perhaps I should have flushed it down the toilet instead of trying to stamp it into a lager soaked carpet. If I was going to be taking Donna out to an expensive restaurant, I didn’t want to be leaving heroin footprints on their plush carpets.

It was time to leave; I doubted that I would be coming here again. Something just beyond my peripheral vision moved. I looked up and around, the landscape had changed. It was the chair, well not the chair specifically but the fellow sat on it. I was sure that when I passed it earlier, when I was carrying Chantelle, that it was empty. In fact I knew it was. Anybody who looked like him would have stood out at any party. Because Stig’s musical taste leaned towards the heavier spectrum, all manner of teenage freaks and oddities turned up, but this guy made them all look positively normal.

For a start, his skin was grey, as if he was anaemic or something. Nobody could be that colour and still be alive, it must have been make-up but make-up didn’t explain why his eyes were huge like an owl or why he was practically bald. If this was the sort of people that Stig’s parties were attracting, I was glad I wasn’t coming back.  Then he blinked. I was so startled, I stepped back, slipped, and landed in the girl’s lap. He shot out of the chair and ran into the living room.

I suppose I should have stayed where I was for a moment and thought about what had just happened. Why he could move about when everyone else had about as much life in them as a crash test dummy and why he looked like he lived under a bridge in some warped fairy tale. None of this went through my mind at the time. I just leapt off the child and followed the troll thing into the living room.

It hadn’t gone far; the troll thing had clambered onto the stage and was licking up the congealed remains of Chantelle’s brains. It was beyond disgusting. I quietly got onto the stage and stood about two feet behind it. The thing tensed when I accidentally coughed but obviously had no intention of moving. With its face to the floor and its arse sticking up, it reminded me of a starving cat that had just discovered its milk bowl had been filled up.

“Hello?” I said. There was no reply.

“Can you speak English?” Why was I bothering to try to communicate with this freakazoid troll? It wasn’t going to answer me. I was tempted to boot the fucker for desecrating the remains of one of my work mates. Instead I took one step back and let it get on with lapping up the gore. Why not? It was saving me the trouble of doing it. Then I had an inspired idea: I knew how I could get it to talk. I tapped its ankle with my boot. It growled at me.

“Listen mate, when you’ve finished here, there’s a nearly complete body up those stairs.”

That got a reaction; he looked back at me, his chin dripping with red slime and gave me the thumbs up. He then continued feeding. Fuck it. I had no more time for anymore of this weird shit tonight. It was time to go. I turned around and that’s when I saw another two of the bastards. They were trying to dig Creepy Christian out, or maybe they were looking for something else, like the bracelet for example. Oh shit, if they got their little grey hands on that and buggered off, I’d be stuck here forever.

“Oi.” I shouted. I jumped off the stage and ran up to the closest one, grabbed his wrist and pulled. The little fucker hissed at me and tried to bite my hand. I jerked away, as you would. I didn’t want that thing taking a chunk out of me. Christ knows what diseases it might be carrying. The other one scrambled out from under the bodies. It hadn’t got my bracelet, thankfully, and crawled towards Mr. Bitey, hushing and making a weird clicking noise at the back of its throat. I thought the second one was a female. It was wearing a tattered pink dress that covered most of its body. I could be wrong, it might be a cross dresser for all I knew. It reached the other one and soon they were hugging and rocking each other.

“You scared him, you horrid beast.”

Fuck me, it could talk. There was no doubt in my mind that it was a girl, despite it being a gross humanoid monster, it was still effeminate. I’d never been called a horrid beast before. I wasn’t sure how to react. Was I supposed to be insulted? I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

The two looked a little better than the thing on the stage, more human. They even had hair.

“Well?” she said. “Aren’t you even going to introduce yourself? You can speak to me, you know?”

Was she coming onto me? God, I hoped not, even with beer goggles and a double brown paper bag, she would still be a monster. She had a strange accent, old fashioned. She spoke a little like my grandmother did in the home movies I was forced to watch as a kid.

“I’m Adrian,” I replied. “Who are you? What are you? And what rock did you fucking crawl out from?”

The dumb one growled andshowed me its teeth. I wondered if it was her pet. She was treating it like one.

“Not so loud,” she said. “Sudden noises upset him. My name is Jane.”

“What about your pal? Does he have a name? Like, Fido, or maybe, Rebel?” I didn’t think she got the joke.

“He answers to John; at least that’s what I call him. I don’t know his real name.” She gently removed his clinging hands from around her and moved closer to me.

“You’re pretty.”

Oh crap, she was coming onto me. I stepped back from the ghoul and pointed to the stage. He sat cross-legged, staring right back at me. “Who’s he?”

She shuddered. “We keep away from him. He’s bad.”

They all seemed to be in different stages of decay. No, I think that was the wrong choice of words. Decay suggested rotting away and bits falling off like zombies. These things certainly weren’t like that. I think they were changing, into what, I don’t know.

Creepy Christian groaned. I think he was trying to get out; his shifting weight caused a couple of bodies to fall from the top and tumble down. The ghoul with no name shrieked and ran into the waiting arms of Jane. Even the troll on the stage hid behind the DJ desk. Creepy Christian’s chest was now visible and I saw the bracelet embedded there. I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Jane’s eyes were hypnotized by the shiny bauble. This was what they were trying to get before I ran towards them.

“That’s mine!” she cried.

“Bollocks! Christian gave it to me.”

She started to laugh. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You poor, poor boy. You have no clue what is happening do you. If you did, you’d find a knife and slide it across your throat.”

I took one more step towards the bracelet. Jane moved like lightning. One second she was in the arms of Fido, the next second she had my arm in a grip that felt like steel. She smelt like spouting potatoes.

“I came from a wealthy family. My father owned Lakestead house and most of the cottages in lower Leechester. I was rich and spoiled. I thought I could do anything and get away with it. Two maids were sent to the stocks because of me. I said a stable boy had tried to rape me and he was sent to the gallows. I was an evil child. Is it any wonder that God set a demon on me? One of those things.” She pointed at Creepy Christian.

“Murdered my friends and family and I got the blame.”

I lunged towards the bracelet but she pulled me back. The other ghoul slithered over and lightly stroked my cheek. He moved his finger down my face and onto my neck.

“Have you any idea how long it’s been since we fed?” Jane asked.

I shook my head. The dumb one leaned over and licked my ear. He giggled.

“Your warmth fascinates him. He wants to taste your insides.”

Oh Christ on a fucking crutch, they were talking about eating me. I can’t believe how bad this evening was getting. “Why do you want to munch on me? Look around you, there’s people everywhere. Eat them.”

I tried to escape again but it was no good, her frail body betrayed her real strength. The troll on the stage had now taken an interest and was clambering down.

“Quickly!” she hissed at her colleague. “If he sees we have a fresh carcass, he’ll try to take it.”

“I’m not fucking dead yet!” I screamed.

The ghoul opened his mouth larger than he should have been able to, displaying a huge number of tiny, yellow teeth. She let go of my arm. For one crazy moment I thought she was going to let me go, but no, she had to move forward and block me from the other troll’s sight. He lunged forward and shut his jaws with an audible click. I pushed my head back, which saved me from losing my nose. He howled and jumped at me. I fell back, hitting my head on Creepy Christian’s chest. I brought my hands up and fastened them around his scrawny neck and squeezed. I wasn’t consciously trying to strangle the bastard; I only wanted to keep his trap-door gob from snapping off anything about my person that protruded. He grabbed my hands and easily pulled them off his neck like I had the strength of a baby.

I was finished. I shut my eyes and prepared to let go, maybe it wouldn’t hurt too much. I could hear somebody sobbing and crying.

“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it.” It sounded like Jane. I opened my eyes: the ghoul still held my hands but his head was facing towards his companion who appeared to be tangled up in thick coils of wet, black rope that dropped down from the ceiling.

The dim light made it difficult to understand what was going on. The ghoul turned back to me.

“Get the bracelet and go.”

“I thought you couldn’t talk?”

“Don’t. Not can’t. Now hurry up before they kill her.”

He had tears in his eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he said.

I reached over and pulled the bracelet out of Creepy Christian’s chest. It was like pulling a boot out of syrupy wet mud. Thick, black, oily smoke escaped out of the hole, it smelled like burning plastic. The ropes hoisted Jane off the floor, her shrieks made the hairs on my back stand on end. There was no sign of the other troll. He must have pissed off before all the excitement started. The ropes were now creeping towards the remaining ghoul and me. As they got closer I saw my description of it was way off; they were more like intestines.

“Put it on! Hurry before it’s too late. You can still escape from here, we can’t. Please don’t let it eat us,” he begged.

I was tempted, I really fucking was. Just to wait for a few more seconds, considering they were going to scoff me, but in the end my humanity kicked in and I slipped it back onto my wrist.

Way-too-loud guitar music blasted into my ears; all I could see were feet and legs.

“I’m telling you, Donna, she’s the one for me.”

“I thought you said she was a loose tart.”

“Well, I know, but that was before I got to know her.”

“In one night? That’s bollocks, Kevin.”

“Where is she anyway? I’m missing her breasts.”

“You’re such a dirty bastard. Adrian? What are you doing down there? Are you alright?”

Why was I hesitating to reply?

“What are you playing at, Adie? Are you pissed already?”

“He’s just messing around,” said Kevin. “Look, he’s smiling.”

I got off the carpet and wrapped my arms around Donna. Kevin pretended to throw up.

“You are the most beautiful girl on the planet.”

“Fuck me,” muttered Kevin. “He is pissed.”

“Shut your hole!” she retorted. “Do you mean that?”

I nodded happily. “I wouldn’t say it otherwise. Now let’s blow this gaff and find the most expensive hotel in Leeds and stay there until the morning.”

Kevin’s face was a picture. “What are you up to?”

“Come on, Donna,” I urged. “We need to go now.”

The excited screams and shouts coming from the hallway could now be heard over the music, people were beginning to take notice. My original plan had been to take my friends out of the house before I put the bracelet on.

“What’s going on out there?” asked Kevin.

He started to follow the others out, and, like the other party-folk, as soon as he saw the cash, we wouldn’t see him again. I looked around to see if I could find a side door or window. Donna was pulling at my hand; she wanted to look as well. The tone in the hall had changed. Arguments and enraged shouting were now the order of the night; it was turning nasty.

“Come on, Donna. We really do need to go.” I tried to move her but she stayed put and pushed me away, went to the far wall and sat down. What was she playing at?

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said.

What was up with her? Had she had too much to drink? Well that was doubtful. Donna could drink like a fish but I’d only been gone half an hour.

“Not until you tell me when you had your personality swap.”

I tried to hide the guilt from my face. “I don’t know what you mean, Donna.”

“I’m not stupid, Adrian. You’ve been acting weird all week and now this, all this amorous attention. Most of the time you don’t even notice I’m there.”

She picked a stupid time to go all female on me. Why couldn’t she have pulled this trick when we were out of the house?

Oh Christ, what a mess. I got down beside her and took both her hands in mine.

“Donna, you are the most wonderful girl I have ever known. I will admit that in the past I have taken you for granted, but these past few days I’ve realised just how much I can’t live without you.”

My heart was speeding up and my mouth was dry. I licked my lips. I never thought that I would ever say these words.

“What are you trying to tell me?” she said softly.

”I’m saying that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I don’t know what to say apart from that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me and I…”

Her head slumped to her chest.

“Donna? Are you ok?”

I lifted her head up. She looked fucking terrible. The colour had drained from her face. She opened her eyes.

“I’ve come over all strange. I think someone has spiked my drink.”

Oh crap, where’s Kevin when you need him? I put my hand on her forehead, she wasn’t hot but sweat was pouring out.

“Can you get me a glass of water? I’m so dry.”

I nodded and stood up. I looked around the empty living room. The carpet was losing the battle to stay afloat above the crushed beer and Red Bull cans and lager bottles, but no water. The kitchen was padlocked and there was no way I was going upstairs. Fuck it, she’d have to wait. I still needed to get her outside and the air would probably do her the world of good.

Kevin waltzed back into the room, grinning from ear to ear and waving a wad of twenty pound notes around his head. He looked like the cat that had got the cream. I shuddered when I thought that. While he was staring at Donna, I risked a look at the stage behind Kevin. The stain was still there, but with the light being poor, it could have been a beer stain. I needed to get Kevin out of there as well. I was so glad I had moved Chantelle.

“Look at this,” he said waving the notes in front of me. “It may be like a rugby scrum out there but I still managed to get over three hundred quid. I would have gotten more but some lass in an orange bikini fell on a pile when a bloke booted her out of the way.” He nodded once. “Let’s fuck off out of here. I’m buying the pizzas.”

Donna threw up. I jumped out of the way so the puke wouldn’t splatter on my trousers.

“It’s going to be a cheap night,” he said. “I don’t think she’ll want some now.”

“For fuck’s sake, Kevin,” I said. “I thought you knew first aid?”

“I put plasters on cuts. I don’t do vomit. That’s disgusting. Aren’t you going to clean her up? Hang on, my phone’s going.”

“Thanks for your help,” I muttered. The money scramble outside seemed to have died down and I’d heard nothing from upstairs yet.

“Hello? Where the fuck are you? I haven’t seen you for a couple of days.”

Why do people on mobiles have to shout? Donna wasn’t heavy; I figured I should be able to carry her out of the house.

“Yeah, send it over,” shouted Kevin.

I hope she didn’t puke down my back. Perhaps I should put something over her head like I did with Chantelle. I bent down and grabbed hold of her arms. She was like a rag doll. Kevin booted me in the back of the legs.

“Ow! You cunt, what did you do that for?” I didn’t know what his game was, nor did I care. I was going to make him suffer. I got off the floor and clenched my fists, then he shoved his mobile phone in my face.

“So you think that’s normal, do you?”

Tears were running down his blotchy face. What the hell was wrong with him? I grabbed his shaking hands and attempted to steady them so I could make out the picture he was trying to show me. It looked like a balloon. It was; it was a kid holding a big red balloon.

“And you think it’s okay to do that? You think that’s perfectly acceptable?”

What had gotten into him? I’d never seen him so upset. I took one more look in case I’d missed something.

“I don’t know what’s upset you, Kevin. It’s just a random picture.”

“A random picture?” he screamed “A random picture? You think that fucking my mum and taking snaps on your phone while doing the deed is random?”

I looked at him in total disbelief. “You’re having a laugh,” I said. “Me and your mum? Fuck off. I wouldn’t touch her with your cock. She’s a dog.”

Maybe I should have worded that a little better. Kevin screamed and flew at me. Even though he was rubbish at fighting, some of his punches were still getting through. I got him in a bear hug, he sank his teeth into my left ear and wouldn’t let go. He was like a mental Jack Russell.

“Get the fuck off me, you idiot. Look at the picture again, Kevin. It’s a girl and a balloon. I’ve never been near your mum.” I couldn’t head butt him, he’d bite my ear off, so I tickled him instead. He didn’t expect that. He fell back. I jumped on his front and pinned his arms down with my legs. I picked his phone off the floor and showed him the picture.

“Look at it again, you silly twat.”

I was aware that an audience was beginning to form behind me. Kevin had stopped struggling which was good news for him as he was about to receive a bloody good slap.

“It’s a bloody balloon,” he said.

I got off him and went back to Donna. Kevin was sitting up and mumbling to himself. He hadn’t noticed that the audience had gotten bored of the entertainment and wandered off but not before making off with the cash he had dropped.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “Why would Dave lie?”

It must have been Creepy Christian playing mind-fuck games with Kevin’s phone. He came over and took the phone out of my hands.

“Sorry mate, I don’t know what came over me. Fuck knows what Dave is playing at.” He looked at the image again. “Fucking weird.”

His phone started to buzz.

“Don’t answer it!” I cried. “Please, Kevin, ignore it.”

He waved me away. “Hello? You’re upstairs with Stig? Right, I want a word with you, you bastard.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

He ran out of the living room before I had time to blink. I lifted Donna over my shoulders and staggered into the hallway. I passed the girl in the bikini cradling a busted nose and a bloodied lip. She looked like her world had ended. She hadn’t a fucking clue. Apart from her, the hallway was empty. A gunshot echoed down the stairs. I tried to get a little more speed out of my aching legs. Bikini girl rushed past me, almost knocking me over. Donna groaned. I think she was waking up. I couldn’t have stopped Kevin from going up the stairs, but I should have kept his mobile. Creepy Christian obviously had more experience in low-down double talk than I did.

I got to the front door and I could go no further. The party had retreated outside. The area from the door to the gate was jam-packed with people— people having a good time, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had happened tonight and probably a little richer than before they arrived. I was jealous of every single one of the fuckers. I heard another gunshot from upstairs, this one sounded louder. A different gun perhaps?

I looked into the garden, none of those idiots had moved. Were they all deaf? The image of those upstairs, racing down and firing those pistols into me, spurred me into action. I put Donna down and leant her against the wall. I hoped she would forgive me for using her as a prop.

“Oh my God!” I shouted. “My sister is having a fit.” At least two people looked my way, giggled, then looked back. Fuck them; I’d do it the hard way. I picked her up, slung her back over my shoulder and started to shout, “Coming through, she needs air.” To reinforce the point, I accidentally hit the back of a few of the partygoer’s heads with Donna’s feet.

They soon moved out of the way. When I got to the gate, I put her down and yawned. It had been a busy night. I laughed softly to myself; that was the understatement of the century. I didn’t know what to do now. I couldn’t take her to a hotel in this state.

I must have had something loose in my fucking head. Listen to me banging on about taking her to a hotel. There was something wrong with her, she needed a hospital.

“Honey? Are you in there? Come on baby, you need to wake up.”

A single groan was the only response I got. I reached up and took out the bauble that held her hair in a ponytail, fastened it around the bracelet and then doubled it for good measure. If I was going to take her to another public place, then I sure as shit didn’t want that falling off again.

I could see Stig’s bedroom from where I was sitting. I was assuming that it was his; the position was about right and it was the only room on the upper floors that was illuminated. I hoped for Kevin’s sake that the drug dealing scumbags had either moved the body or at least covered it up before Kevin burst in. What a fucking mess. I had hoped that I would have at least tonight and the morning to get this thing sorted before the shit hit the fan. I could now see how ill-prepared and crap my plan was. I had hoped that by now, we’d all be queuing up in Steve’s takeaway, with Kevin blissfully unaware that his new girl had been taken out of the equation with a claw hammer. I could have come up with some lie about me seeing her going off with some other lad. But how could it have truly worked in this day and age when everybody had a mobile phone?

There was movement in the bedroom, at least three people passed the window, fighting? Arguing? They could be dancing, for all I could tell. Somebody started to tap on the glass, a quartet of girls underneath shouted up and waved their arms in the air. They weren’t tapping, they were trying to break it, and then they did. A metal stool flew out of the window. The girls screamed, trying to brush the showering glass out of their hair. The stool ended up being stuck in the branches of a tree.

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

Kevin stuck his head and upper body out of the broken window. He was holding a pistol in his right hand. I nudged the gate open and dragged Donna out of the garden and behind the other side of the privet. I didn’t think for one minute that a hedge would protect us from a bullet but I planned on him not seeing us in the first place.

The other party people soon stopped laughing when they realised the silly man was waving around a real pistol. When the bullets started flying, it didn’t take long for the panicking people to start streaming through the gate. I dragged Donna further back so the fuckers wouldn’t trample over her. A girl in tight jeans and a white blouse ran past me, there was blood gushing out of a hole in the top of her arm. A pale looking man helped her into the passenger seat of a blue car, he got into the driving seat and they set off, narrowly avoiding a group of screaming kids who stood in the middle of the road.

A man in a loud shirt ran past the gate and ducked down beside me. I almost shat myself; I thought it was one of the guys from upstairs.

“That’s the last time I do a job for Stig,” he muttered. “How am I going to get my gear and deck out of there?”

It was the DJ, the real one. “Is there any chance of a lift?” I asked.

“I can’t go anywhere yet. I’ve got a grand’s worth of stuff in there. I can’t leave it.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to steal it. Please?”

This clown wasn’t going to move for anyone, he looked the type who would risk getting his head blown off just so he could rescue his record deck. I decided to see if I could appeal to his tender side, if he had one.

“Look mate, it will only take you five minutes. My sister’s had an attack and she’s left her pills at home. By the time you get back, the police will have this all sorted out and you’ll be able to collect your gear and go home. Nobody is going to steal your stuff while that maniac up there is trying to shoot people.”

I privately doubted that he would be able to get his gear back, if at all. When the police managed to get there and found the body, drugs and guns, Stig’s house would turn into a forensic honey pot. A bullet ricocheted off the multi-coloured van in front of us.

“You bastard!” he said. “He’s shooting up my van!”

He hunkered down and grabbed hold of Donna’s feet. “Come on then, let’s get her in the back.”

That was so typical: he didn’t give a shit about my pretend sister but he soon changed his tune when his precious van got scratched. Still, I couldn’t complain; it was getting me away from there.

I could hear sirens in the distance. It looked like someone had finally remembered to use a phone for what it was designed for. Not that I had  any reason to celebrate the approach of the local constabulary; my fingerprints were all over that house including all over Chantelle. If the police marksmen didn’t take out Kevin, I knew exactly who’d get the blame for all this. I was just praying that the DJ didn’t get second thoughts now that the police were on their way.

“Are we getting off then?” I asked. “My sister needs her medication.”

He shrugged. “Everything will be sorted out now, and you heard the sirens?”

Shit. This guy was a grade one idiot.

“You can stay in the van if you want. At least until the police can get my gear.”

“Look, mate. Stig and his drug-running pals won’t allow themselves to be taken alive by the coppers. They have assault rifles, shotguns, and God knows what else in that bedroom. I wouldn’t even be too surprised if he had a rocket launcher hidden away.”

“Are you shitting me? Hell, I’ve heard the stories about him but I thought the drug rumours were just bullshit.”

He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, I ain’t going to miss this. There’s going to be a real live shoot out happening in my hometown.” He dug out his mobile phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going to record it and put it up on YouTube.”

“Think about this,” I said desperately. “Those police marksmen are going to want to take Stig and his pals out. They’ll hide behind the biggest metal box that’s closest to the house and if Stig does have a rocket launcher in there, what do you think he’s going to aim for?”

His eyes widened. I thought he was getting the picture. I fucking hoped so as those sirens were getting too close for comfort.

“I really think that a rocket attack will do more than scratch your paintwork, mate.”

He nodded. That got him moving faster. “Get in the back with her. You can give me directions once we’re moving.”

“Where do you live, mate?”

Donna chose that moment to cough and open her eyes.

“How do you feel?” I said.

“My throat is dry,” she whispered. “What’s happening?”

I kissed her gently. “Hang on.” I dug out the sleep suppressant tablets and held them in my hand.

“I’ve got some good news, mate. I’ve found her tablets.” I showed him the foil strip. “She must have had them in her blouse for safe keeping and I’m guessing they fell out when we lifted her into the van.” I looked around to get my bearings.

“Just drop us off at the top of this road and you’ll be able to get back to pick up your gear.”

There were holes in that lie big enough to fall through, but he didn’t notice.

“I’ll phone for a taxi once we’re out.”

Donna was sitting up and wiping her face with a cleansing wipe. She looked a lot better. He stopped at the top of the hill and got out to open the back doors.

“Okay, out you get.”

The blast of cold, night air that blew through the interior made her gasp. Donna only had a flimsy blouse on. In all the excitement, I had forgotten to pick her coat up. I helped my shivering girlfriend out of the van and wrapped my jacket around her.

“I’m cold, Adrian,” she murmured.

“Not as fucking cold as me,” I replied.

“I feel strange,” she said.

I moved her out of the way so the DJ could shut the doors.

“It looks like Godzilla chucked up on it,” she said.

She must have been getting better, her sarcasm was returning. She looked down at her vomit stained attire. I had discreetly wiped most of the muck off in the van.

“It looks like he threw up on me too. Fuck it’s cold. Where are we?”

“You’ll be warm in five minutes, I swear.” I took out my phone and rang for a taxi, noting that I had eleven missed calls, one from my mum and ten from Dave’s phone. I deleted them from my phone’s memory and put my phone away. I looked at where the DJ had dropped us. It took a few moments for me to work out where we were.

“We’re about ten minutes’ walk from Steve’s takeaway,” I said. I sat her on a low wall by a church and waited for the taxi to show. It was three in the morning so I didn’t think it would be that long.

“What was the last thing you remember, Donna?”

“I remember lots of things but most of it feels like some weird, freaked-out mushroom trip. Where are we going anyway?”

“Just tell me what you remember that feels normal.”

“We were at a party, weren’t we?”

I nodded.

“Something made Kevin go upstairs, because you wanted to go and it didn’t want you to, then I started to dream.” She started to sob and hid her face in her hands.

“I don’t want to remember anything else,” she said.

A car was indicating to turn onto our road. “Come on, Donna, dry your eyes, our taxi is here.”

Chapter Fourteen

I was hoping she would be able to tell me just how the fuck my bracelet got into her back pocket. I forced myself to be patient; I should be thankful that she could remember her own name and wasn’t speaking like an idiot. We got into the rear seats. The warmth of the car was a welcome change.

“Can you take us into town, please? Just drop us off outside the bank on the high street.”

I put my belt on and placed my hand on top of her thigh. She squeezed her legs together.

“Do you feel any warmer?”

“I’m not as cold.”

The driver tried to engage me in inane conversation. I nodded and smiled in all the right places. I usually ignored them and glared until they shut the fuck up, but this time I needed the driver not to remember us.

“That’ll be three fifty,” he said. I handed him the exact change and we got out. I willed him to go before we headed towards the bank.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

I smiled and gave her a quick kiss. “It’s a surprise,” I said. “You’re going to love it.”

“What I would love right now is a hot bath and a bed,” she replied.

It seemed she remembered pretty much bugger all of my dialogue at the party, had she forgotten about my hasty proposal as well? I’m not sure if that was a good or bad thing.

I could hear the tell-tale sound of police sirens. I grabbed hold of Donna’s hand and ran towards the nearest alleyway. Leechester is an old Yorkshire town with Victorian houses dressed with modern shop fronts. Gaps between the buildings are common. I stood in the shadow with the back of my head flat against the cold stone. Three patrol cars sped past with their blue lights flashing.

“Christ, Adrian,” she hissed. “What have you done?”

This was one of those situations where the words, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ just wouldn’t cut it and I was too weary to make up more lies.

“There was some trouble at the party,” I said. Oh, this was unreal. I wanted to tell her about Chantelle’s death, I really did, and I knew that she’d find out tomorrow anyway; but did she really need to know right now?

“What sort of trouble?” she asked. “Fighting?”

“It won’t be long before more cars pass the bank. Can we talk on the way? I need to get that cash.”

Donna was biting her bottom lip; she always did that when she was scared or nervous. Fuck it, I had tell her some of it. If she didn’t believe me, or didn’t want to follow the plan I had yet to conceive, then I’d have to do it on my own.

“I’m a wanted man, Donna, or at least I will be in an hour or two.”

She opened her mouth and I gently put my hand over it.

“Please don’t speak just yet. This needs to be said. Once I’ve finished, I won’t be upset if you decide to leave me.”

“You’ve been seeing someone else!” she blurted.

“Oh Christ, don’t start with that old chestnut again. It’s nothing like that, although I wish it were so simple. Chantelle is dead. She was murdered tonight at the party and Kevin thinks I did it.”

The blood vanished from her face. Even in this poor light, she now looked like an albino. Oh crap, she was going to faint again. Why didn’t I just tell her that I was running from the police because I’d been accused of burglary or something?

“You carried her upstairs and then you threw all that money down the stairs.”

It was now my turn to go as white as a sheet.

“How did you know that?” I demanded. “You were out for the count like everybody else.”

“So it’s true?”

I nodded. “I didn’t want Kevin to see her like that.”

“What the fuck is going on? I thought I’d dreamt that.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know enough to answer that but I do know that I can’t allow the police to find me.” I grabbed her shoulders. “If I’m caught, I’m dead, you’re dead, and so is everybody I know. I just need to make it until the morning and I’ll fix everything, I promise.”

“Okay, Adrian. I’ll try to help you.”

Well that was unexpected. I didn’t expect to win her over so easily. “You mean you believe me?”

“I was a human battery. He was feeding off me. It was like having a dirty old tramp clamped to my tender regions and sucking.  You’re not the evil, nasty piece of work he’s trying to make you think you are, Adrian - if you were, you could have killed it when it had the bracelet in its chest. The others would have drained it.”

Donna shut her eyes and staggered against me.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, something happened to me when you said Kevin and Chantelle’s names. I wasn’t asleep and I wasn’t awake. I was here yet I was somewhere else.”

“So you do believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe my future husband?”

I knew her amnesia was too good to last. Now I was lumbered with her for the rest of my life…however long that was.

“So what do you remember, Donna?”

“Enough to know that if you take that bracelet off or go to sleep, he’ll kill me. What the hell possessed you to take me to a party?”

“I needed to stay awake and I thought Stig might have some caffeine tablets.”

“Couldn’t you have just drunk a load of coffee? These things feed on people. The more people, the more chance of it working mischief.”

“Thanks for that,” I said. “Thanks for reminding me that I’m responsible for Chantelle’s murder.”

“Don’t get fucking stroppy, Adrian.”

“How do you expect me to act? You haven’t a clue the kind of shit I’ve gone through these past few days. Have you any idea what was going through my mind when I saw that cunt at the party and he informed me that he was going to gut you? And then the guilty relief when he did Chantelle by mistake?”

Donna put her hand over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up!” she hissed. She flung her arms around me and kissed me long and hard. I gave in after a moment and returned the kiss. Then some fucker blinded me with a powerful torch beam.

“Oi! What are you two doing?”

Donna whipped her head around. “What does it look like we’re doing? Get your kicks somewhere else, you pervy bastard.”

The torchlight moved off my face. The guy looked away and moved out of sight.

“Has he gone?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Can we continue?”

“Don’t be stupid, we need to move.”

She looked out into the street and tutted. “Thank the Lord for the introduction of plastic policemen.” She looked back. “If that had been a proper copper we would have been in his car by now, asking us exactly what we were up to.”

“That was close,” I said.

“No thanks to you. That was another example of you not thinking.”

“Sorry” I said. “Come on, we had better get to the bank.”

Donna didn’t move. She had her arms crossed and was shaking her head.

“You can’t use any of your cards, Adrian. Cash cards or credit cards. If by some miracle, we do find a hotel at this time of night, as soon as you use your card the number will be logged and the police will be banging on our door within ten minutes.”

“I didn’t think of that,” I said. “Well, what do we do? Run around all night avoiding the police helicopters?”

I’d never told her that I was taking her to a hotel.

“Don’t be stupid. I know a place where we can crash for the night. Give me your phone.”

I handed her my phone. This was ridiculous. Since when was she in charge? She put my phone on the ground and before I could stop her, she dropped a brick on it.

“What the hell are you doing, you stupid cow! Have you any idea how much that’s worth?”

“Have you any idea how easy it is for the authorities to track you once they know your number?”

“Of course I do. I sell them, remember?”

“We have got to be safe,” she replied.

“Well, if you’d told me what you were going to do, I would have just taken the battery and SIM out.”

She got down on her knees and picked up the brick and slammed it down onto the already broken phone. She repeated this action a few more times. Every time the brick hit what was left of the phone, the noise reminded me of the hammer when it was slammed into Chantelle’s face.

“Have you finished now?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “I got a little carried away.”

“And you made enough noise to wake the dead.”

She stood up, brushed herself down, then kicked the broken pieces of my expensive phone to one side and took a deep breath.

“Think of all the impossible things that demon has shown you over the past couple of days. Do you really think that no battery or SIM in your phone will stop him from contacting you?”

She didn’t give me time to ask her how she knew all this.

“Come on then, let’s go meet a mutual acquaintance and see if we can avoid all those nasty policemen.”

We got to her intended destination within ten minutes. She wouldn’t tell me what she meant by mutual friend, but now I found out for myself. We had arrived at Steve’s takeaway, as he was just about to close.

“You know Steve?”

She nodded. I caught up with her as she entered the shop. “He used to rent his rooms out to the local students.”

“Used to?”

“Some kid nicked a load of his records and CDs, so he gave it up. That was a few years ago.”

“We’re closed,” he shouted from the back room.

It looked like he’d had a busy night. The donner meat on the spindle had almost gone. It seemed like years since I was last in here, yet it had been only a few days ago. Steve poked his head out from the back room.

“Oh, hello, I’m sorry but all the food has gone. Shut the door on your way out.”

Donna pressed herself against the counter. “We need a room, Steve. It’s only for tonight.”

I stood beside her and followed her example. The counter was still warm and after rushing up here dressed in only a shirt, the heat was a much-needed relief.

“You want a room at four in the morning?”

I could see his living room from here. He had an open fire. I could almost feel the comfort. There was an old-fashioned high backed chair stood to one side and a cup full of hot steaming coffee on a table next to it. There was also a decanter half-full of dark red liquid, probably wine. I hate wine but I would have given my right arm to sit in that chair, drink a glass of wine and forget about everything. I’m sure that Steve was intending to do just that before we turned up at his door.

“If it was anyone but you, Donna, I’d assume that it was a wind up. Then I’d set the dog on them and call the police.”

He looked sharply at me. This man was scaring me; where was that jolly unassuming  man who told us dirty jokes and looked about as dangerous as a cheese pasty?

“So is it the law you are running from? Or are you hiding from your parents?”

He came around the counter. “Lock the door and draw the blinds, Donna”

“Does this mean you’re giving us a room?” I asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied. “Come on, get yourself into the living room and get warm. You both must be freezing.”

We didn’t need telling twice. He followed us into his private sanctuary. I made a beeline for his chair but he got there first.

“Nobody sits in this chair but me. Adrian, pull up two chairs from over there.”

He sat down and beckoned Donna over. “Now, I know you used to be partial to wine but Mr. Moneybags over there is awkward so can you get him a beer from the fridge? Thanks, sweetheart.”

When he said chairs, I expected something a little more comfortable than a pair of knackered old bar stools with hard wooden tops. I sighed and dragged then over. Donna came back in. She put the beer on the table and helped me get the stools unfolded. Steve threw some wood on the fire.

“I should have had central heating installed years ago but you can’t beat a roaring fire especially when it’s brass monkeys outside. Not very environmentally-friendly, I suppose.”

I reached for the beer, cracked it open, and took a long swallow. It tasted magnificent and the seats weren’t as bad as I’d  thought.

“The stools are very comfortable aren’t they, Adrian?”

He leaned forward and held up his hand.

“No, I’m not telepathic or anything like that, I’m just very good at reading people’s faces. Most of my clientele are usually three sheets to the wind. Great for emptying their wallets but it can make them a tad unpredictable.”

He settled back in his chair and poured himself and Donna a glass of wine.

“Okay then, kids, I’ll make you a deal. I won’t ask you any awkward questions as long as you promise me to come back and put me in the picture.”

Donna nodded. He looked at me and I did the same.

“Right, well let me finish cleaning up. I won’t be a moment.”

When he had gone, I asked Donna if she could make me cup of strong coffee. I was also bloody hungry. God, I could murder a bacon sandwich, smothered in ketchup. Donna left the room, leaving me alone; I had the awful feeling that Stig had given me sleeping tablets. I dug into my back pocket. I might as well get rid of them for all the use they did. I didn’t find them but my hand closed around something else. I pulled out my mobile phone. I just looked at it. Donna came in with my coffee. I showed her what I found.

“Steve’s got the same phone you had.”

I shook my head. “It’s mine. I just got it out of my pocket.”

“Impossible, I smashed yours to pieces.”

“We’ll soon found out.” I lifted the cover and looked at the address book.

“It’s mine,” I said. It started to ring.

“Don’t answer it.”

“Hello?” I said.

“Tell your slutty girlfriend that I made her smash up her own phone.”

“What do you want, Christian?”

“What I want, young man, is for you to stop fucking me around and to start playing by the rules. Now you need to go home.”

“No chance,” I said.

“Well, despite you breaking our previous deal, I am willing to make another one. If you go home now, I’ll leave Dave where he is and won’t put him in bed with your sleeping mother. I know where you are, Adrian, and if you don’t do as I say, I’ll send Stig and Kevin there. They are very upset with you and…”

I broke the connection then threw the phone towards Steve’s bin. Would he be able to carry out his threat without me being there to watch? I shuddered,

“Sorry, Donna, it was your own phone that you bricked.”

“Was it him again?” she asked. Donna didn’t seem to be all that bothered that she had destroyed her own phone. She slumped in Steve’s chair and yawned,

I nodded. “He wanted me to go home or he’d put Dave in my mum’s bed.”

“Where is the body now?”

“The fucker put him in my bed while we were downstairs. I put him under my bed when you were getting dressed.”

Steve came back in the room. “Right…” He looked over at Donna and smiled. “She’s asleep already.”

Oh, shit, not again. I gently shook her and she moaned. I wasn’t sure if this was normal sleep.

“While you take your girlfriend upstairs and tuck her in, I’ll make us something to eat. How does a bacon sandwich sound?”

He shuffled away, smiling. I didn’t care how perceptive he was, there was no fucking way that he could have known what food I was drooling about.

I watched him disappear out of the room and just for that moment the man oozed wrongness. Did that make sense? Oh, I don’t know, I was probably reading too much into the situation again. Since we’d got there, nothing bad had happened, apart from the phone call, so I should have stopped acting like a frightened mouse. I’d got through the night so far, more or less intact  I should have counted my blessings.

I gently lifted Donna into my arms. She snuggled her head into the side of my neck and I sighed with relief; this was normal sleep.

As I carried her upstairs, I gave my immediate future a little thought for the first time that night. I was cautiously optimistic about making it through the night; it was what the morning would bring me that caused concern. I was going to need some plan to keep me from spending the rest of my life banged up in jail.

I pushed open the door and head butted the light switch. There was an already made bed with the covers pulled back directly in front of me. I laid her down, took off her shoes and covered her up. I sat on the edge and considered the possibility of starting a new life in the States if I survived.

“My handsome knight has carried me to my bed,” she murmured. “You didn’t have to, I could have walked.”

“I wish you had now. I think you’ve bent my spine.”

“You say the kindest words.”

She sat up and kissed me on the nose. “Everything is going to be alright,” she said.

I sighed and looked away, staring at the poorly decorated walls instead.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The edges of the wallpaper don’t match up.”

“Don’t be facetious, Adrian. You know what I mean.”

I spun around and glared at her. This Zen-like calmness she was radiating was beginning to get on my nerves.

“Do you want a list?” I replied.

My burst of anger didn’t phase her one bit. She just smiled. It was almost as if she was drugged, having taken too many happy pills.

“Look,” she said. “You’re safe now. So until the morning, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.”

I just stared at her. Had she gone mad? “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s from a song from the first World War. I’m just trying to tell you in my own little way that you should chill out, at least for tonight. This is the first time you’ve stopped since the shit hit the fan. The first time you’ve felt safe. You need to relax, Adrian. Don’t let your mind ponder on tomorrow’s outcome. If you do that, you’ll be fucked.”

“That’s just the point!” I blurted. “I don’t feel safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Him downstairs, that Steve. I don’t trust him. There’s something not right about him.”

For a fraction of a second her serene face crumpled into a mask of unbridled anger. Was sleep depravation causing me to hallucinate or was it because I’d mentioned Steve in a negative way?

“You’re doing it again, Adrian. You’re looking for catastrophes that aren’t there.”

“If it hadn’t been for Steve’s kind nature, there’s a good chance that by this time we would be hiding under a bridge, piss-wet through, freezing to death with half the town out to get us.”

She seriously had a hard on for good old Steve.

“I see what you mean,” I said. I didn’t care what she said; there was something seriously dodgy about that guy. Call it a gut feeling. Donna obviously didn’t share my anxiety. I should have kept my mouth shut. I’d just have to hide my feelings and be careful around him, although that wasn’t going to stop me from taking advantage and eating his food. That reminded me, he’d promised to make me a sandwich.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek before standing up.

“I hope I’ve calmed your fears about Steve,” she said.

I nodded.

“You could save yourself a lot of hassle if you didn’t bottle your feelings up and spoke to me once in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at all the trouble that happened just because you wanted to stay awake.”

I don’t fucking believe this: she was guilt tripping me again because I’d let Chantelle die.

“That wasn’t my fault,” I said. “I didn’t know any of that was going to happen.”

“I’m not saying it is, sweetheart, I’m just saying that if you had told me the reason why you  were going to Stig’s, I would have suggested going to the corner shop and picking up a few cans of Red Bull.”

I didn’t have the heart to explain to her that I’d been on caffeine-infused drinks all day. She was drifting off again. I kissed her nose and left the bedroom, closing the door behind me. As I clicked the door shut, I took one step towards the stairs and stopped.

The wallpaper, paint, carpets and pictures looked different. Everything looked older than it did when I’d carried her up. There was a curious and unpleasant smell lingering in the air, it was a little like sour lemons. I might have been mistaken about the décor, but that revolting smell definitely wasn’t there before. I hoped it wasn’t evidence of Steve’s homemade cooking. I grabbed hold of the wooden banister and cautiously made my way down the stairs. The carpet was definitely different. Before, it had been flush to the walls but this was only half the width and held in place by curious metal arms that were bolted to the wooden steps. I stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked up, willing it all to change back. I rubbed my fingers along the surface of the wallpaper and back down to feel the metal plates, it all seemed real enough. I waited for another minute before more complaining from my stomach reminded me that I had promised to give it some food.

The sour lemon smell had faded and been replaced by the odour of spiced meat. I had to swallow a couple of times so I wouldn’t drown on my own saliva. The stairway hadn’t changed and I didn’t think it was going to. The more I looked at it, the more I convinced myself that it hadn’t changed at all. I wasn’t blessed with an eidetic memory so it didn’t take much to convince myself that I had imagined it all, especially as I was on the brink of starvation. I pressed the palm of my hand against the pale yellow door. Was it yellow before, or dark blue? I focused on the dirt under my fingernails whilst willing my rapidly beating heart to slow down. After everything I had been through, I couldn’t understand why I was so fucking terrified over a bloody hallucination, if this indeed was one. I could only put it down to another gut feeling. Well this was one gut feeling I was going to ignore. The only feeling I wanted in my gut was the pleasure of food filling it. I pushed open the door and jumped into the living room. It may have seemed like a dramatic entrance but I had to do something. I felt that my feet were taking root.

I almost gagged from the overpowering smell of sour lemons but that went as quickly as it had arrived.

“Steve?”

There was no answer. The room was normal. Apart from the absence of him; it was exactly the same as before. The comforting tick of the grandfather clock, and the two stools we had pulled across were still there. There had been no magical transformation. That relaxed me so I couldn’t explain why I had been so reluctant to open that door. Oh crap, that smell was back, only this time it was far worse than before, if that was possible. I grabbed the edge of the open door to stop myself from collapsing. As before, the smell disappeared as quickly as it arrived only this time another smell replaced it, an altogether delicious smell. I had found the source of the spiced meat aroma. I let go of the door and breathed in, which was fortunate as the door shut behind me. I think I worded that wrong; the mouth-watering meat smell distracted me. The door violently slammed shut. Plaster cracks appeared above the doorframe and the sound echoed around the house. I tried to open the door but it was useless. There was absolutely no give. It was like it had been glued shut. I had a feeling that the handle would break off before the door opened.

So much for Donna’s reassurance that we were safe in this house. I couldn’t even go upstairs to tell her ‘I told you so.’

“Steve!” I shouted. “Your door is stuck.”

I gave up tugging at the door handle and wondered back into the room intending to seek out our elusive Steve, but my stomach suggested otherwise. On the table sat the biggest donner kebab I had seen in my life. I sat down, licked my lips and pushed away the knife and fork that Steve had thoughtfully left by my plate. I lifted up the pitta bread and took out a sliver of sliced meat. It was smothered in chilli sauce, just how I liked it. A limp piece of lettuce that was clinging to the meat was picked off and the meat was popped into my mouth. The rich flavour of the meat combined with the hot spice of the chilli sauce made this the best tasting kebab I’d eaten in my life. He must have had a new supplier, or maybe it was because I was starving hungry and hyped up on adrenalin. Whatever, it didn’t matter. I took a huge bite.

Now that one need was getting satisfied, I tried to make sense of the other strange events. Steve’s disappearance was easy to explain, he must have been in the front of the shop cleaning the equipment after firing up the kebab spit to make this awesome meal. The weird smell must have been some sort of industrial air freshener he used to destroy the stink of grease, and as for the door slamming shut; well that was just the wind. With everything explained to my satisfaction, I got down to the serious business of demolishing the kebab. I spent the next fifteen minutes in complete ecstasy. My immediate surroundings ceased to exist while I was feeding my face.

Full and happy in a mellow kind of way, I wiped my chilli stained mouth on a napkin, sat back and burped loudly. That was a mighty fine meal; the only thing missing was a cold beer.

“Steve. Can I have another beer?”

Then it clicked. He still hadn’t shown up yet. I had been so engrossed in the food that I failed to notice he was still absent. The unease started to build again and despite the fact that I’d been sitting there for the last twenty minutes, and my now-full stomach telling me that inaction was the best course to take, it could go whistle. Because of its greediness, I could hardly move and I kept burping up chilli sauce.

The logical place to start was the shop, so after I shoehorned my way out from under the table, I checked the kitchen first. Who needed logic when I was still craving a beer? The kitchen was yet another room that looked like it had come out of the dark ages. There was no microwave, no electric kettle and the cooker was a big cast iron range set into the back wall. I ran my fingers along the pitted metal. It was cold and dusty; it looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. The fridge was next to the porcelain sink. This beast was a fridge and a half— you could probably live in it. I pulled the crowbar-like handle and peered inside. The only object inside was a four pack of beer. It didn’t make sense; my mum’s fridge was half the size and had enough groceries packed inside to put a corner shop to shame. Steve told me earlier that he didn’t even like beer. Did he get this just for me, even though he had no idea I was coming here?

I grabbed the beer anyway. The feeling of the ice-cold aluminium can against my fingers closed an imaginary curtain that shut off the growing feeling of apprehension. I didn’t care that this whole experience was degenerating into an unpleasant dreamlike delusion. All I desired to do was to open the first tin. I popped the top and emptied the full can in a few seconds. The brand was unfamiliar and the beer tasted strange but it didn’t stop me from emptying the other three cans. I dropped the last can on the floor. It hit my foot, clattered onto the tiles and rolled under the sink.

This didn’t make any sense. After scoffing that immense, greasy meal and washing it down with all that beer, I should have felt and looked like a stuffed pig and yet I was hungry again. I wasn’t being a greedy bastard; I honestly felt like I’d had nothing to eat. A loud clatter of metal hitting stone distracted me from my confusing thought. It sounded like it had come from the shop.

“Steve?” I shouted. “I’ve just drunk your beer.”

I looked in the sink where I’d chucked the first three cans and they weren’t there. I got down on my knees and looked under the sink. The only thing under there was a sprung trap with the skeletal remains of half a mouse next to it. Something else hit the floor in the shop. This was heavier. The vibration travelled through the floor and halfway up my arm. I got up and ran out of the kitchen. It was time to put an end to the games that Steve was trying to play with my mind. I didn’t know what he was trying to achieve but I’d been through far too much to be scared by e stupid parlour tricks. I didn’t bother with the stealth approach, I just marched into the shop area, intending to show him just what happens to people who fuck me about. In retrospect, I should have been more careful. I would have been better prepared.

It wasn’t Steve in there; it was Kevin. I recognized him by the trainers on his feet. He was feeling his way along the walls and anything that wasn’t bolted to the wall was pulled off and thrown behind him.

How he had been able to get through the shutters and why he was behaving so strangely didn’t even get a passing thought. The top half of Kevin’s head was missing. When I was a kid I ate a lot of cream eggs. I always used to start by biting the top off. That is what his head reminded me of. It was a disgusting description, but accurate. Small scraps of blackened skin and hair hung over the undamaged half of his face like cheese on a pizza slice. This revolting, walking abomination should have been terrifying me and I’m sure that a pre-event Adrian would have been running for the hills, but I was no longer that man. The shambling travesty was facing a post-event Adrian, and to be honest, the now deceased Kevin was a rather tragic-comic figure.

His questing hands now had hold of a knife; he didn’t throw that behind him. There were flakes of cooked meat sticking to the blade. I think it was the same stuff that had made up my kebab. I slowly turned and looked at the kebab spit. My laid-back attitude towards Kevin’s death and apparent resurrection fled in an instant and the contents of my stomach wanted to follow suit. A mutilated human torso had been jammed onto the spindle. As it rotated, I saw that the front had been completely stripped of skin and large chunks of flesh were missing from the chest area. I watched the greasy meat juices run down the cooking carcass. It dripped and sizzled onto the metal plate below.

The half-headed idiot was still aimlessly wandering about, waving that knife around.

“I’m not buying this,” I muttered. I wasn’t bothered about attracting the attention of the knife-wielding bozo, as he had no ears. Steve might not have been there but I was still convinced that he was trying to mess with my head. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to suggest that Kevin had somehow managed to construct that kebab masterpiece.

“I’m sorry, Steve, wherever the fuck you are, Kevin could barely make toast when he had a full head.” I was getting tired of this. I just wanted the illusion to end.

“He didn’t make it. I did and Steve is dead. Some of him is now inside you.”

That was Stig’s voice. I fearfully looked over my shoulder and there he was, bold as brass, leaning against the doorframe and grinning from ear to ear.

“I made it, Adrian,” he said. “We all know how much you like your kebab, so I butchered that old fool, selected the best cuts and stuffed it into pitta bread.”

“You’re lying,” I said. He must have been lying; none of that food and beer had existed.

“I went a little overboard with the chilli sauce but I had to disguise the taste somehow.” He winked at me and pointed to my face. “You weren’t very thorough when you wiped your face, you missed a bit.”

I shook my head. “This is all bullshit. None of this exists.” Yet I still wiped my hand across my face, an instinctive gesture. There was a red smear across the back of my hand. I lifted my hand to my nose and took a deep smell, definitely chilli sauce.

The smug bastard was still grinning. “You’ve got to admit, Adrian, that was the best kebab you have ever eaten.”

“I’ve had nothing to eat!” I shouted. “All this is fake.”

“I think you’ll find that the evidence speaks for itself,” he replied.

That horrible bloated feeling suddenly returned, my stomach was filling up, I could physically see the front of my shirt expanding.

“Oh crap,” I sobbed. Then I burped. My mouth was filled with the sour taste of beer mixed with the partially digested, chilli sauce-infused meat. I couldn’t take any more of this. My stomach tried to fold and I ran past Stig, who was crying with laughter. I fell to my knees and I waited for the inevitable. The stuff exploded out of my stomach and shot up my insides, but it didn’t reach my mouth. I felt like I had a frog in my throat, one that had fishhooks for skin. Each of those points dug into my soft tissue to prevent whatever it was from ejecting onto Steve’s brown carpet.

Stig walked up, whistling some stupid, tuneless song, stopped and knelt beside me.

“Your unwillingness to accept what you see is the real cause of your pain,” he said.

I wanted to answer him, tell him to fuck off or kiss my arse, anything, but I couldn’t speak. My left hand was massaging my throat, trying to coax this moving lump to get out so it wouldn’t fucking choke me.

I tried the old favourite of sticking my fingers down my throat. I was seriously beginning to panic now. The tips of my fingers brushed against something warm and soft like a marshmallow.

“This is reality, Adrian. This is real and it’s happening now. If you don’t accept it, you will be dead in a few seconds, choked to death on a half-chewed lump of Steve.”

I clawed at my throat but it was no good, the lump had set up home, there was no shifting it. He thrust a cool glass into one of my shaking hands.

“Drink it,” he said. “It’s only water.”

I wanted to throw it at him and tell him that I’d rather die but my body betrayed me. My hand went to my mouth and tipped the liquid inside. Stig could have pissed in that glass and I wouldn’t have cared, although it did turn out to be cool, refreshing water. As soon as the water touched the lump, it vanished like it wasn’t even there, but the bruises on my throat and the deep furrows left by my finger nails told me otherwise.

I dragged myself off the floor and sat on one of the wooden chairs by the table, staring at the chilli sauce stain I had made on the cloth earlier. I wanted to scream but I didn’t. There was no way he was going to win. I still believed all this was fake and there was nothing he could do to make me change my mind. I swallowed a couple of times, grimacing when I did. My throat hurt like fuckery.

“You are very stubborn, Adrian. I tried to explain this to the monster that’s been terrorizing you, but it wouldn’t listen.”

I stared at him with my mouth open.

“He got to us after the police had finished shooting.”

“You’re dead as well?” I croaked.

He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a small red-rimmed crater above his nipple. “As a Dodo,” he said. “Police marksmen took Kevin out by the window when he was waving that bloody gun about. Two shots were fired at the same time from different rifles. That’s why his head looks like a half-finished clay bowl. One of my accomplices shot me just after the police stormed the house. One second I was on the bed alone and then a dead girl was next to me who appeared to be tossing me off. I guess he must have panicked. Next thing I know is this guy with long white hair ordering me to open my eyes.”

“So you’re one of his lap dogs now?”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that. Do you think I enjoy someone controlling me? I’m under his spell for all eternity.”

My throat was beginning to feel a little better; it didn’t hurt to talk now.

“What do you want?” I said.

He leaned forward. “What I want, you fucking fuck, is for you to be deader than me. I want to pull your limbs off and stick what’s left of you on that kebab spit.”

“Is that so?” I said. “Well, guess what, I don’t care what you want because I’m alive, you are not, and the only thing you have to look forward to is maggots feasting on your insides. Now you’re getting annoying and tedious so why don’t you take yourself and your fucking gay zombie bum chum and jump off a cliff.”

I didn’t even see it coming, not that it would have made much difference if I had. He was out of that chair and on me before I had time to blink. He grabbed hold of the side of my head and rammed it into the table.

“Do you know what I most hate about you?” he snarled.

“It’s that you are emotionally retarded. You are the most cold-hearted, passionless little cunt I have ever met which is why I knew the monster’s little scheme wouldn’t work.”

He then violently pushed my head back. The kebab knife came flying down, just missing my nose and becoming stuck in the table. Kevin, whose hands had been around the knife handle staggered back when Stig pushed him away. He carried on talking as if nothing had happened.

“You see, he thought that if I could get you to ingest human flesh, then deny you the possibility of throwing it back up then you would do anything. I can’t see how this would work, to be honest.”

I rubbed the side of my head. “I’ve eaten worse.”

He started to laugh. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“Are you going to tell me what you really want?”

He sat back down in Steve’s chair, picked up the discarded diary and started to flick through it. “It must be great being you,” he said. “You can do just about anything and not feel bad afterwards. Do you ever feel guilt?”

He pointed at Kevin.

“He was your mate, your best friend. Don’t you grieve for his loss, considering it’s your fault he got shot?”

I shook my head. “That’s bullshit. You’re twisting the facts. If your new lord and master hadn’t appeared, none of this would have happened anyway.”

“If you hadn’t dumped dead Chantelle in my bed, Kevin wouldn’t have gone mental, so it really is your fault, but you don’t really care, do you? Do you care about anyone?”

He stood up and leaned towards me. “Would you feel a deep ache in your bones if she were lost to you?”

He saw my reaction and smiled. He clicked his fingers and Kevin bumped his way out of the kitchen and headed towards the stairway door.

“Now that we have something to bargain with, I can tell you what he wants. If you give me that bracelet, then we’ll go and leave you in peace. If you don’t, then your old friend, Kevin, will go upstairs and fuck your girlfriend to death.”

I stood up, the chair fell back and I attempted to pull the knife out of the wood but the blade was too tightly wedged. I gave it up as a waste of time. I dodged past the smirking Stig. Oh, I would so love to jump up and down on that fucker’s face. I ran towards the Kevin-thing and pushed him into the grandfather clock. With him safely out of the way, at least for a few seconds, I grasped the hall door handle and pulled. Nothing happened, it was still jammed. Stig started to clap.

“Well done,” he said. “I have a bullet stuck in me, yet I still know what buttons to press, even with you. Now give me that fucking bracelet.”

I gave him the finger instead and continued trying to open the door.

“You don’t really love her, Adrian. Oh you think you do, but all you are experiencing is a crude facsimile of the real thing.”

The door wasn’t moving no matter how hard I pulled and his whiney words were seriously beginning to wind me up.

“I’ve had Donna, you know, before you started going out with her. She was a fairly decent fuck but nothing to write home about.”

“Which button are you trying to press now? Cos this time I know you are talking out of your arse. Everyone knows that she thinks you’re a creepy little shit.”

“I violated your darling Donna while she was seeing you. I bet she never told you that. I nibbled on the mole beneath her right tit just before I slipped it in. Oh how she screamed.”

A red mist descended over my eyes. I snapped. I ran at him, grabbed the knife as I passed. It slid out smoothly, like the table was made of butter. I knew that I shouldn’t be able to move it but I was too pissed off to notice. I chucked the knife at him. I throw like a girl so I certainly didn’t expect the knife to hit him, but it did. The knife tumbled through the air a couple of times before the blade stuck into his forehead all the way to the hilt.

“That’s not possible,” I whispered. There was nowhere near enough force in the throw for it to do that. Even so, there was no mistaking the evidence: Stig was slumped in the armchair with eight inches of kebab knife buried in his brain. He looked dead. He’d said he was already dead but this time he really did look like he’d passed on.

I looked behind me and the Kevin-thing had collapsed into an untidy heap. Stig must have been controlling him like a radio-controlled car. The room was now silent aside from the ticking of the grandfather clock. I fingered the bracelet and smiled; it looked like I’d won. I cautiously moved closer to Stig. I wanted to make sure he was definitely dead but I didn’t know how to, aside from watching him for the next couple of hours to see if he twitched. There was a key on a chain around his neck. The outline could be seen beneath his shirt. I ran back to the stair door to confirm my suspicions. Yes, there was a keyhole there. No wonder I couldn’t open the door, it must be on a latch and had clicked shut when the wind had blown through the house. Before I took the key off the corpse, I booted the Kevin-thing on the way past just to be sure. It was like kicking an old rolled-up carpet. Just then, I got a very strange feeling of déjà vu. I paused for a second, there was something of supreme importance about that phrase but I was too hyped up to think clearly.

I pushed it to the back of my mind and crept to the armchair. I looked down at Stig. I never did find out what his real name was. “You don’t look so smug now, you bastard.”

Had he slept with Donna or was that another one of his mind games? I decided it was time to get out of there. It was a shame about Steve. It looked like Donna had been right about him after all. I reached towards Stig’s body. His eyes shot open and his arm snaked out and grasped my wrist.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he said, laughing.

Neither could I.

“Now are you going to give me that bracelet or are you going to let your old pal split her in two?”

The Kevin-thing was back on his feet and swaying from side to side. Stig slid the knife out of his head with his spare hand and licked the blade clean.

“You’re hesitating,” he said. “Perhaps you are thinking that maybe your old friend won’t get through that door without the key. Perhaps you think that maybe you can warn Donna before he does.”

He pulled the key and chain over his head and threw it in the air where it vanished.

“The door isn’t locked.”

He pulled me closer to him. He smelled of wet clay.

“Did Kevin ever tell you just how well hung he was? Did you never wonder why such an ugly fucker like him could always pull the chicks?”

He pinched my chin between his fingers and pushed my head up. Kevin had already torn his t-shirt off and was doing the same to his jeans. The Kevin thing was soon as naked as the day he was born.

“He wasn’t bragging was he, Adrian?”

He could have been a porn star with a monster like that. He stepped out of his torn clothing and walked towards the door. He managed to grab the handle after four attempts and despite me wishing and hoping that that the door wouldn’t open, it swung smoothly open when he turned the handle. He turned his ruined head towards me and grinned.

“I’m having a hell of a time controlling him. You can see how excited he is. All you have to do is give me your bracelet and we’ll both be out of your life forever.”

“Why don’t you just take the fucking thing, you dirty shit. I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”

He shook his head. “That’s not how it’s played, Adrian. If you don’t play by the rules, Donna’s going to be seriously hurt.”

“Why do I have to play?”

“Because if you don’t, Kevin will drag her down and he’ll fuck her in front of you. Now give me the fucking bracelet!” he shouted.

The licked-clean knife was next to him. Had it been discarded and forgotten about or had he put it there on purpose? I realised that it didn’t matter either way, as I knew I had nothing to lose. I sighed deeply and looked at my feet. I composed myself and attempted to look solemn and chastised. I looked up and gazed into his conceited face.

“Okay,” I said. “I realise when I’m beaten.” I sighed again in case he hadn’t heard me the first time. I snatched the knife from the chair arm and thrust it into his open mouth. The blade went through the back of his mouth and dug into the wood. He let go of my arm and started to wriggle like a dirty worm.

He wasn’t expecting that one, which is why he wasn’t pretending to be dead again. My wrist was hurting like a bastard where he had grabbed it and I was tempted to kick him in the bollocks. Then I saw that Kevin had gone through the door.

“Oh shit. Donna!”

I left Stig to struggle with his new dilemma and raced after Kevin whilst shouting Donna’s name. I skidded though the open door and grabbed hold of the banister. Kevin was halfway up the stairs. I shouted Donna’s name again. I didn’t understand why she hadn’t answered me. I leapt up the first couple of stairs and gripped his ankle. I was hoping that I’d be able to jerk him back with enough force he’d fly over my back and land in a mangled heap below me with his arms and legs broken. Fat chance of that happening; it was like trying to pull a tree over and he responded to my futile attempts at moving him by jerking his other foot back to collide with the bridge of my nose.

I was the one who fell back, my throbbing nose feeling like it was swelling to twice its normal size. I hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs with surprising force, but it wasn’t enough to stop me. I ran back up the stairs and this time I jumped on his back and put my hands under his chin. I hoped that my weight would over-balance him but it didn’t happen; he just carried on going as if I weighed nothing more than an empty rucksack.

This ineffective piggyback was getting nowhere until I spotted a unique and viable opportunity. I wrapped my legs around his hips and trapped his over proportioned erect phallus between my boots. I then scraped down the length with the edges of my size nine hiking boots.

That got a reaction. He howled like an injured wolf. He pulled me off his back and threw me into the side of the wall, the impact almost making me black out. I ended up at the foot of the stairs again with a few more bruises to add to my injury list. I looked up and he was at the top giving me the finger.

After all that bloody noise and repeated shouting, Donna still hadn’t opened her door to investigate. I didn’t know what else to do. I’d found out that I could make him pause for a few seconds but it had cost me a lot of bruises. I needed heavy artillery to stop him but I only had a few seconds left. I looked wildly about and spotted a wire rack full of shoes, it would have to do. I scrabbled through the collection, discarding the slippers and trainers until I caught sight of a single stiletto. The heel was capped with a steel spike, in terms of improvised heavy artillery I couldn’t have wished for a better weapon. I raised the shoe above my head and charged up those stairs, bellowing like a wild animal.

As I got to the sixth step, the most unexpected thing happened. Kevin dropped to his knees and uttered a sorrowful moan. I stopped and let the shoe tumble down the stairs. I wouldn’t need that now, as Kevin had been well and truly dispatched.

There were two rusty, old meat hooks stuck in his back. Jane stood behind Kevin; her quiet friend stood beside her. Jane was staring at my crotch and smiling while her friend was gazing at Kevin’s opened skull like a hungry man would look at a hamburger.

“Hello, Adrian.” Jane’s eyes moved up and met mine. “Thank you for the fresh meat.”

The silent one had removed one of the meat hooks and was dipping his finger in the hole, sucking the red mess off his finger and dipping it back in again; the dirty, sick bastard.

I skirted past the two ghouls and checked in on Donna, she looked asleep. I turned my head just in time to see Jane grip what was left of Kevin’s ear and thrust her face into the top of his ruined head. I tried to close my ears at the disgusting sound she was making as she lapped up what was left of the grey glutinous slop in Kevin’s head.

Don’t get me wrong, I was deeply grateful that they had appeared and put an end to the Kevin thing, but her behaviour was offending even my sensibilities.

“Er, excuse me,” I said.

She lifted her head up and used one hand to wipe most of the lumps off her face. “That’s a nasty cut on your nose,” she said. “Do you want me to kiss it better?” She pouted and fluttered her non-existent eyebrows at me. This was so weird and not right. She looked like she had dipped her face into a bowl of streaky red porridge and yet she was still coming onto me.

“Thank you for stopping Kevin,” I said, rather lamely. I looked back at Donna’s sleeping form. How could I tell this pair of blood sucking freaks to piss off without hurting their feelings? If Donna woke up and saw this pair tucking into Kevin like he was Sunday dinner then she would have a seizure. Jane saved me the trouble.

“If you are scared that your pretty little princess will wake up and catch you playing the field, you shouldn’t worry. She’s a normal and they have no concept of this realm.”

“The what?”

“Didn’t I explain it the last time we met?”

I shook my head. “No, you were too busy trying to get into my pants and then I saved you from getting eaten by giant black spaghetti.”

She tapped her companion’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take our catch home?” She kissed his forehead, leaving a wet, grey and red greasy mark.

“Just be careful of the other one.”

Her companion nodded.

“If he sees this lump of prime meat, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

He removed the other hook and slammed it into Kevin’s ankles. The metal bit through the flesh and out the other side, and then he dragged the carcass towards the wall. When he reached the wall he continued through it like a phantom.

When the last of Kevin’s fingers had disappeared, I ran up to the wall and slammed both my palms against the wallpaper. The tingling on my skin told me that the walls were still very solid. I turned around and stared at her.

“How the fuck did he do that?”

She got off her knees and walked towards me. “You saved my life and now I’ve returned the favour. This means we’re even. I can’t help you again. Do you understand?”

“Can I just ask one question?”

She nodded.

“Will I end up like you if this demon wins?”

“Yes,” she replied. “They feed on the people around you to get enough strength to tackle you. Your soul is the ultimate prize. If you do lose, then you will wander through this realm as a soulless ghoul, fighting for scraps of meat.”

She stopped for a second. I saw her eyes flicker towards the steps. She reached up and grabbed my cheeks in her wet and sticky hands.

“The favour has been repaid, now go.”

She released my face, sidestepped me, and disappeared into the wall, leaving me feeling very alone and in possession of far too many unanswerable questions. The first question would be how the bloody hell could I get out of there and back to normality? My moment to ponder was cut short when something pulled on my leg, causing me to overbalance. I swung my arm out, trying to catch hold of the bedroom door handle but I missed. I hit the floor hard. The soft carpet barely cushioned my fall. I lay there with the wind knocked out of me, unable to move while something or someone crawled over my feet, onto my body and towards my face. The smell of wet clay invaded my nostrils for a second time. He sat on my chest and pinned my arms to the floor with his knees. Stig had removed the knife and patched up the hole with green insulation tape. Jane must have seen him crawling up the stairs and didn’t bother warning me.

What a bitch.

“If you want the job doing, do it yourself,” he rasped.

I think that’s what he said. His voice had changed. I suppose having a hole the size of a pound coin in the back of your throat would do that to a guy.

“Do you know what the funniest thing is, Adrian?”

I couldn’t shake my head even if I wanted to.

“If you had taken the bracelet off as soon as you saw Kevin bumping about in the kitchen, all this would have disappeared and you would have been back in the true world.”

That didn’t make any sense; all this Alice in Wonderland shit ended when I put the bracelet on the last time not when I took it off.

“Last chance, Adrian, give me the bracelet.”

He leaned a little closer toward me. I wanted him to get just a bit further so I could head butt the fucker into the middle of next week. I was finally getting my breath back. Now that I had stopped worrying about choking to death, I was thinking about how to get him off me.

“No,” I whispered. “It’s mine.”

He sat up straight and sighed. There was an air of finality about that sigh that I did not like one bit. He drew his arm back and clenched his fist.

“Oh crap,” I muttered. I couldn’t duck or move or anything.

“This is for ruining my life.” His bony fist almost knocked me into the middle of next week. My eye would be swollen shut by the morning, if I survived that long.

“And this is for getting me killed.” He then hit me in my already bruised eye.

“You’ve caused me no end of trouble,” he said. “And I really can’t be bothered with any of this anymore.”

The kebab knife appeared in his hand. He pressed the blade edge against my throat.

“See if you can guess what I’m going to do if you don’t take the fucking bracelet off.”

I had no choice, besides, with the Kevin thing out of the way, it wasn’t like my girlfriend was in danger. I grabbed the bracelet and pulled.

Chapter Fifteen

The ashen clouds hadn’t moved since the moment I’d opened my eyes. I was a little surprised that I was able to open them at all. My memory of recent events was fragmented, and what I could remember seemed beyond horrific. I decided not to pursue the images and closed my eyes instead. The hot metal felt pleasant against my clothes and although there was no birdsong, the loud ticking from my watch was lulling me back to sleep. The pleasant scent of a woodland meadow drifted through the air; it reminded me of how our bathroom used to smell after my mother had finished attacking it with a vast array of cleaning products. I opened one eye and looked to where the smell was strongest.

“Oh bloody hell.”

There was a small, white, rectangular plastic block about a foot away from the end of my nose. It was a plug-in air freshener.

I lifted my head and looked around. I was lying at the foot of somebody’s stairs, next to a hot radiator.  Considering I hadn’t a bloody clue where I was or how I had got there, I felt remarkably calm. I got off the green carpet and sat on the second step. It was light outside; weak sunlight filtered through the frosted glass in the front door. There was a brown letter sticking halfway through the box so I guessed it was morning. There was something very important that I was going to do today but I was buggered if I could remember what it was. I looked at my watch to confirm the time and discovered that I wasn’t even wearing a watch. The ticking noise was coming from beyond the yellow door at the bottom of the stairs.

As I had nothing else better to do and I wasn’t going to find any answers staring at the shoddy seascape picture hung at an angle on the crap wallpaper, I put my hand against the panelled wooden door, but then paused for a second. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Perhaps I should check out the upstairs rooms first.

I berated myself for being such a big girl’s blouse, pushed open the door, and looked around. I still couldn’t work out where I was. I guessed that I must have stayed at a mate’s house, had too much to drink and passed out. It made sense but it still didn’t answer where I was. I walked into the room and almost bumped into a bloke walking out. He looked like he had just woken up. It was the guy who owned the kebab shop, Steve. What was he doing here? Unless this was his house, and in that case, what was I doing here?

“Where on earth have you been, Adrian?” he demanded. He looked at the clock and rubbed his eyes.

“I must have fallen asleep in my chair. You took Donna upstairs ages ago. Your sandwich has gone cold.”

I looked at the sandwich sat on the plate. Despite it being cold, it still looked delicious. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten; he had even cut it into quarters. I looked back at Steve and shrugged. What else could I do? I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. He returned my befuddled and confused gaze with a look of concern and worry.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I took a step towards that bacon sandwich; it was a dreadful shame to see it go to waste.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t a clue what I’m doing here.” I picked up one of those quarters and held it tenderly.

“Who did I take upstairs? Was it Donna?”

He nodded. I popped the sandwich in my mouth, stopping myself from swallowing it whole. I couldn’t believe how hungry I was. I located the source of the ticking; there was a big, old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was just past eight o’clock. I still couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing this morning. It was probably something crap like going into town with Kevin, although that seemed a little far-fetched. He wouldn’t be up so early unless you’d set his bed on fire.

“Are you sure you can’t remember anything?” he said.

“My mind is a complete blank,” I replied. I continued bulldozing my way through the cold bacon sandwich. That wasn’t strictly true. Floods of dark and surreal images were floating up from my subconscious as I chomped through the sandwich. There was a very thin veil separating a cacophony of nightmarish memories from my normal life and I wanted it to stay there, thank you very much.

What on earth was going on? I felt like I was on the verge of having a bad acid flashback.

“You look hot,” he said.

I didn’t feel hot.

“You’re sweating.”

What was he talking about?

“Let me feel your forehead,” he said as he pressed his hand against me. As soon as he touched my skin, that veil holding all the badness back fell apart like a sheet of wet tissue paper. The floodgates opened and my tender mind was swamped with a week’s worth of the vilest, sickest and most depraved memories I could have ever imagined.

I remembered nearly everything from the moment of meeting that demonic fucker right up to me taking off my bracelet. I held up my hand. The bracelet was gone, and yet I remembered him hitting me. Why wasn’t my eye swollen shut? I should have looked like a fucking badger. I didn’t understand any of this.

My whole life had just been turned into a big bag of shitty shit. I looked at the few breadcrumbs and blobs of bacon grease left on the plate. I’d felt fine when I was eating that sandwich and I’d have done anything to get back to that state of ignorance. I needed a drink, a massive bottle of vodka.

“How do you feel?”

That didn’t even deserve an answer. Was he taking the piss? He sat on the chair beside me and placed a glass of clear liquid in front of me. It smelt of paint stripper.

“Drink it,” he said. “I promise you, it’ll help.”

I wrinkled my nose. “What is it?”

He tapped a finger against the side of his nose. “It’s probably best if I don’t answer that but I will guarantee that it will do you a lot more good than any spirit bought at a corner shop. Now get it drunk before it evaporates.”

I picked up the glass. It was only a little bigger than a thimble; what harm could it do? It certainly couldn’t make me feel any worse.

“Hold your nose and pour it down in one go,” he suggested.

I complied with his proposal. The stuff, whatever it was, flowed down my throat with the minimum of fuss. When it reached my stomach it exploded in hot waves spreading throughout my torso. It was like someone had rubbed Deep Heat into all my internal organs. He was right, it did make me feel better. It didn’t quite dispense the crushing feeling of hopelessness that had settled in the pit of my stomach, but it stopped me from feeling suicidal and wanting to get mindlessly pissed.

“Better?”

I put the little glass down and nodded.

“Now come along, young man, let’s see if we can find you a different set of clothes.”

I followed him to the stairway door. He looked back and smiled. Donna was so right. How could I have thought that this nice man was up to no good?

“Perhaps you should say goodbye to Donna before you set off on your journey.”

“Okey dokey,” I said. “Why do I need another set of clothes?”

He was halfway up the stairs before he answered. “I thought it would be obvious. Half the town is looking for you and you won’t get very far if they have a description of what you were wearing last night.”

I had to admit, I’d not thought of that. It was a good job that we came here instead of sleeping under that bridge. I took the steps two at a time and looked in on Donna. She was snoring her head off. It seemed a shame to wake her so I kissed her on her forehead and whispered that I loved her and left her to dream.

Steve hadn’t passed me on the stairs so I assumed that he was still looking for some clothes. I stood on the landing for a few moments and scrutinized the furnishings and décor that Steve had so tastelessly chosen. Aside from the same architectural style, everything else was different to last night. It was like I was in the same house forty years back in time. I tapped the wall where the Kevin-thing had been pulled through. Did any of the events of last night actually happen? And if they didn’t, then where the fuck had my bracelet gone? I didn’t understand any of this. I was getting confused plus I could feel the beginning of a headache forming in my temples. I walked down the stairs, deciding to have a look for that bottle while Steve was otherwise occupied.

He was already down there, holding a disgusting mustard-yellow cardigan up to the light when I walked through the door. That was freaky; I could have sworn that he hadn’t gone past me while I was in Donna’s room.

“I can’t see you wanting to put that on,” he said and flung it onto a pile of equally revolting clothing.

Had I lost track of time again? It looked like he’d been sorting clothes for ages.

“See if you can find anything in that pile that will fit you.”

He pointed to another pile that, on closer inspection, would suffice. I still couldn’t work out how he’d got there so quickly.

He passed me a rather fetching yellow cardigan that I draped over my shoulders. I wrapped the yellow cardigan around my shoulders and walked into the room. I glanced over at the table to see if he had left that moonshine stuff out but he had shifted it.

“I like your cardigan,” he said.

I nodded. It wasn’t really my taste but it kept me warm. I sat on the chair in front of him and scratched the skin underneath where the bracelet had been. He handed me a pair of trainers, some faded jeans and a dark jumper.

“This is the best I can do,” Steve said. “The colours and styles are boring and non-descript. You won’t stand out in a crowd with that lot on.”

I thanked him and he went into the kitchen so I could get changed. He came back in a few minutes later.

“That’s a lot better,” he said. “I hardly recognise you.”

I looked at the clock. I had about an hour to get to the car park.

“Well, thanks for everything,” I said. “And thanks for keeping an eye on Donna for me while I’m gone.”

“I should be thanking you, I think.”

That wise, benign voice had changed.

“The other one will be so fucking upset when he discovers that I’ve stolen you right from under his nose. I knew that you would come here eventually. You see, unlike the other one, I don’t really care how well seasoned the incubator is. Why should I care? It’s not like I’ll get to see my offspring.”

He grabbed my neck and pulled me towards his smirking face.

“Time for more forgetting juice. We don’t want you to walk about town thinking about what I’ve put inside you.”

My mind tried to wrap itself round what he’d just told me. He forced back my head and poured more of that clear stuff into my mouth.

Chapter Sixteen

Donning those new clothes seemed a little too cautious. After striding through the suburbs of Leechester for twenty minutes, the only person I’d seen so far was a miserable looking postman. I couldn’t see why he was so unhappy; at least he was correctly dressed for this shit weather, unlike me. Not only were my clothes totally unsuitable for a freezing, sleety morning, they itched like buggery as well.

I was getting closer to the town centre, and the sound of early morning traffic was replacing birdsong. Within the last couple of minutes, a handful of cars had passed me and I had attracted quite a few passing glances from the drivers. Nobody had slowed down and I didn’t see any of them scrambling for their mobiles, so I was guessing they didn’t recognize me as public enemy number one. They were probably wondering what that sad tosser was doing out in a crappy, freezing January morning wearing what could only described as summer clothing that went out of fashion thirty years ago. I should have been asking myself that question, too. I was sure Steve had given me a pair of jeans and a warm grey jumper to wear. What the fuck was I doing with this cardigan on? Another car passed me; this time the female driver smiled and shook her head, she was probably thinking that I’d gotten pissed last night and was heading home after waking up in a field. The bitch could have at least offered me a lift. The comforting thought of sitting in a car’s passenger seat, warm and dry, gave me something else to think about: why the fucking hell hadn’t Steve given me a lift? He must have his own transport; he had a business to run. Even if it were a clapped-out old van, I wouldn’t have minded riding in the back. Anything was better than being out in this.

I nipped into a bus shelter in the futile hope that maybe the sleet would stop in a couple of minutes and the sun would come out. I could handle the cold. I just didn’t want to be any wetter. I sat on the uncomfortable mesh seat and watched a bus pull into the stop. One person got off, an old woman. She looked up, muttered something, and pulled a headscarf out of her bag that she tied over her grey permed hair. I wondered how much it would cost to get into town. The last time I had used a bus was at school when they took us to the sports centre for swimming lessons.

Would he even let me on looking like this? The old woman saw me and couldn’t get over that road fast enough; she nearly ended up under the wheels of a cement truck. Some workmen on the other side of a chain link fence applauded her miraculous escape and she started to tell them off, much to their obvious amusement. When it became clear that she was wasting her time, she hurried away.

I watched the bus set off. It wasn’t even going in the right direction. Those workmen were wearing very warm-looking, high visibility jackets. I checked my pockets and found two pounds fifty. I wondered if they would sell one to me. Wearing a bright yellow reflective coat was probably not the best choice of clothing to wear when you are trying to stay invisible but it was better than dying of hyperthermia.

I decided to find out. The worse thing they could do was to take the piss out of me and tell me to fuck off. It was still sleeting but it didn’t seem as heavy, or maybe that was just me being stupidly optimistic. I waited for a gap in the traffic and ran across the road. Just as I reached the fence, all four workmen retreated into the factory. One of them had left a jacket in the cab of a forklift truck. It was only a couple of feet away from where I was standing. If that fence hadn’t been there, I could have had that jacket. I decided to wait for a couple of minutes and listened to the overly loud radio that was blaring out from the open factory door.

I was still optimistic that they would be coming out soon. I didn’t believe that they had gone for their break so early. I waited for a couple more minutes just in case they came back out and saw me looking like a neglected, kicked dog and decided to enter into a spot of bartering. Then I remembered how they treated that old woman; it was more likely that they would see me, think I was a gypsy, and just give me abuse. While I was busy feeling sorry for myself, the vile music on the radio had given way to the news.

I strained to listen; multiple deaths involving guns and drugs were bound to be the first items on the news, and they were. Some banal female voice informed the listeners that one person had died at a party and the police were trying to contact a number of people who had gone missing. That was it. She moved on to an explosion in Iraq.

The local paper would have have more information. The closest one was next to the market in the middle of the town centre. I had planned to go around the town and cut through the estate and through the waste-ground. It would take less time and there would be less chance of human contact. I made my mind up; I needed more information so I would cut through the market and steal a paper. The fact that I could get two hot pies for the price of the money in my pocket was a happy coincidence. I’d just have to put up with being cold and wet for a little longer.

I waved goodbye to the jacket and turned away from the fence. It was only ten minutes walk to town, and if I hurried, I might even catch up with the woman and mug her for her coat. I saw a glimmer of blue in the sky. I hoped that it was a sign that this bloody sleet would stop. I walked towards town, lost in my own thoughts, barely noticing my surroundings, which was just as well. If I had seen the curious glances of the passing pedestrians or the fact that I had nearly caused two crashes due to the drivers watching me instead of the road then I would have climbed into a wheelie bin and stayed there until the sun had gone down.

Some noisy bastard repeatedly blowing their car horn broke me from my reverie. I turned around and saw a bright orange Ford Escort coming towards me; it was slowing down but I didn’t think it was going to stop. I knew none of my friends or family owned such a car, and to be honest I couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone in their right mind would want to purchase any car in such a revolting colour. The car drew along side me; the passenger window was already down. A young Goth chick stuck her head out of the window, gave me the once over and shouted, “Freak!”

I guessed she was addressing me but I didn’t know why, considering she made the Addams family look normal. Having made their statement, they drove off, both the driver and passenger laughing like drains. Their guffaws could be heard over the God-awful music that was blasting out of their stereo.

A woman pushing a pram passed me while all this was going on and she giggled too. I assumed that she was laughing at the situation— the way some people do when someone else near them falls on misfortune. She hurried away at twice walking speed until an old woman collared her. They both looked at me and pointed their fingers.

“What are you staring at?” I shouted. I wasn’t exactly keeping a low profile. I should have listened to my own advice and buggered off. She didn’t become embarrassed and hurry off like I thought she would, though. The woman just stood there, mirth plastered all over her face. She looked me up and down and said, “have you seen yourself?”

She said it like you would talk to a ten year old. She didn’t wait for my reply nor did she hang about to witness my reaction.

I looked down at the clothes Steve had given me. It was as if I was seeing them for the first time. It now made sense why everyone was finding my attire so fucking hilarious. I was dressed in clothes that a pissed tramp would have turned down. I would have been more inconspicuous if I’d danced down the street in a fucking clown costume.

What the bloody hell was I thinking of when I’d put this stuff on? Was I drugged or asleep? Why the hell did Steve allow me to leave the house looking like a homeless children’s television presenter ? I couldn’t think of a single reason. More importantly, I couldn’t think back full stop. When I did try to remember what happened that morning in Steve’s house I just encountered mental fog. It was funny. Not funny haha; more like I’m so terrified that I’m going to either pass out or shit myself funny. These past few days I’d seen people getting ripped apart, had the shit kicked out of me, and now I was rushing towards what could be my horrible death, and yet I’d taken most of it in my stride. Yet when I suddenly developed Alzheimer’s disease, I felt that my whole world was coming to an end.

Oh fucking hell, this wasn’t fair. I started running, ignoring the wolf whistles and shouts. I lost track of the blaring car horns. Fuck them; let them laugh at my expense. I stopped after a few minutes to catch my breath and to let my heart slow down. I had stopped in probably the only deserted area of town. It was the refuge collection point behind the market. I sat down with my back against a steel wheelie bin and ripped off the knitted mustard-yellow cardigan. It even had neon pink, large plastic buttons for fuck’s sake. After running down there, I had warmed up somewhat so I didn’t immediately feel the cold.

The tie-dye t-shirt and the lime green flares stayed on. I had no desire to continue my quest wearing only my birthday suit.

There were a couple of discarded needles lying next to me. I suppose I should have been thankful that I hadn’t sat on one. I carefully picked one up; there was something still inside the glass tube. It looked like dried shit but I knew exactly what it was. I should, considering how much I’d stamped into Stig’s carpet last night.

I wondered what it felt like to have heroin coursing through your bloodstream. Kevin told me he had tried it once. He described it as having your first orgasm but multiplied by a thousand.

The rain had stopped and the sun had sneaked out from behind the grey clouds. This unexpected change in weather did nothing to break my black mood. I wanted out. I wanted this weirdness to fuck off and leave me alone, and now I had reached the point where I would do anything to escape my fucked up situation.

Could you eat heroin? I had no intention of sticking a needle that had belonged to a dirty smackhead in my veins, but I was sure that I had some of the powder still lodged in the treads of my boots. Even if the sensation was only half as good as Kevin claimed it was, it would still be better than how I felt now. If I could relax and let go for just half an hour, it would allow me to shake this malaise off and let me wrap my head around what was happening.

I was sure that you could eat it. You made cake and buns out of dope and I thought heroin was like dope but only stronger, like the difference between cheap lager and Special Brew. I scraped out all the gunk from in-between the boot treads with a sliver of broken glass and gathered it into a little pile. I carefully removed the grass and mud, leaving quite a respectable lump of brown sludge. I put this into the palm of my hand and rolled it into a ball. I was so engrossed in my operation that I didn’t see the two pairs of work boots until one kicked my ankle.

“Shall we chuck this piece of shit in the bin?”

“Just leave him, Shane,” said the other voice. “If we fuck about out here for too long the boss will notice we’re missing, now crash the fags.”

The voices belonged to a couple of young lads who had just come out of the rear entrance of the market. The look of disgust on the one named Shane was almost tangible. He’d mistaken me for a down at heel, drugged-up vagrant. The sort of person who you wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire, which was ironic considering what I thought he was about to do. He waved a pound coin in front of my face.

“I’ll give you this shiny coin if you let me piss in your mouth.”

His mate wandered over, idly rolling the wheel on his lighter. He witnessed Shane unzipping his fly and his reaction totally threw me. I expected him to be a little sickened by his friend’s behaviour but he wasn’t.

“Are you going to give me a cig, Shane?”

“In a minute,” he replied.

“For fuck’s sake! If we don’t get back in five minutes, Baxter will come looking for us.”

The lad blew out a theatrical sigh and took a crushed pack of Benson and Hedges out from his back pocket. “It’s about time that you bought your own, you know, instead of smoking all mine.”

This was unreal. Shane’s mate was acting as if I didn’t exist. Having gotten his fag, the other one retreated behind one of the steel bins.

“Are you going to open your mouth, you greasy little fuck?”

I opened my mouth as wide as it would go. He giggled. He sounded like a little girl.

“Rain doesn’t shift grease off skin you know but my piss does. I’m doing you a favour. You should be thanking me for this, you know.”

He was so busy extracting his wedding tackle that he didn’t notice my hand getting closer to his bits. I had my hand around his balls before he knew what was going on. I removed the pound coin from his trembling hand and added it to my collection then stood up while still keeping a firm grip.

“You are right,” I said. “I should be thanking you.” I squeezed, just to make sure I had his full attention.

“There’s something wrong in my head. I have fog inside, it’s stopping me from thinking properly. Now it’s your turn to open your mouth.”

He did as I asked after I squeezed once more. I shoved the brown ball in as far back as it would go.

“This demon has killed my life, you see, and now you’ve met me, it may even come after you. Now I’m going to let go and when I do I want you to give me your jacket.”

He nodded. I thought he was going to pass out.

“Have you finished pissing on that druggie yet?”

Shane’s unnamed colleague emerged from behind the bin, saw what I had in my hands and froze. I pointed to a hand painted sign above the market door.

“You’re not supposed to smoke out here,” I remarked.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said. He dropped his cig end and marched towards me. Oh dear, this weedy little man thought he had the drop on me. I guessed that he must still have thought I was a drugged-out wino. I let go of Shane’s precious things and pushed him. He collapsed like a big sack of soft shit, while moaning softly. I’ll never understand why blokes expose their tender regions to me.

“I still want your coat,” I said, pointing at the crumpled-up lad.

“I’m going to cut your eyes out.”

I spun around, expecting him to have produced a samurai sword from out of his arse. When I saw what he had, I laughed aloud. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it; he was holding a fucking vegetable knife. It still had bits of carrot on it.

“What are you going to do with that?” I said.  “Cut my nails?” I strode up to him and raised my fists. The expression on his face changed abruptly from fury to fear. It was comical to watch. I snatched the knife out of his hands and picked off the orange flakes, then put them in my mouth. I was right, it was carrot.

“I’ve just been telling your girlfriend, Shane, that I’ve got fog inside my head and do you know what I’m going to do?”

He was shaking his head while watching me clean my fingernails with his knife. I was surprised that he hadn’t run off yet.

“If I think about the fog, I get depressed and want to do myself harm.” I stopped talking and gave him the knife back. “I was about to do myself harm when your mate decided to piss on me.”

He licked his lips. “What do you want?”  he asked.

“I want you to shut up and listen to me,” I replied. “The more I talk, the better I feel.”

The lad looked up. There was still fear on his face, but it was now tinged with relief. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, he was staring at someone or something behind me. I spun around and saw a big bald fucker who was literally filling the door space. I bet he could have eaten all three of us and still have room for ice cream.

He gave me a quick once-over; there was more puzzlement on his face than disgust.  I ran up to him, forced my hand into his huge paw and shook it. I was almost eighty percent sure who this guy was; if it was a market cleaner who had a fetish for green overalls then I was going to look like a right tit.

“Oh Mr. Baxter, thank God it’s you, I thought those lads had come back.”

I ran over to the lad who wasn’t Shane and shook his hand. I told him quietly to suck a mint. I then went to Shane and pretended to check him. Shane was humming the theme to the Magic Roundabout.

“They kicked him a couple of time before they left,” I said. I returned to the human bear and attempted to brush myself down.

“I’m Adrian.” I gave him a sheepish look and shrugged. “I’ve just woken up in this yard. I went on a stag do last night and I guess my mates must have had a little fun at my expense.”

He looked past me, at the lad. “What’s going on Robert?”

The lad labelled Robert just shrugged. I took this as a good sign. I was fully aware that all Robert had to do was to say that I had attacked them and the meat mountain in front of me would pull off my arms without breaking into a sweat. Robert was now checking on Shane who was on his hands and knees throwing up.

“Shane, are you going to be okay? Cos if you are going to be puking all day, you can fuck off home. I’m not having you being ill in front of the customers.”

Shane didn’t reply. I think Shane was visiting other planets.

“Do you want to lose your fucking job, Shane?”

It was good to see that Mr. Baxter was such a caring employer

“You in the fancy pants, come here”

Robert shook his head briefly. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

I gave this mouse called Robert one of my famous winning smiles and stood up. My mood had improved considerably since these characters stumbled into my life. The mist was still obscuring my memory but I’d work around it. I approached Mr. Baxter.

“What do you want?” I asked.

His banana fingers enveloped my arm and he squeezed. The pain was considerable but I didn’t struggle nor did I give him the pleasure of showing how much he was hurting me.

“I don’t like you,” he said. “You’ve got a smart mouth and you dress funny but you’ve got guts and you ain’t scrawny so I suppose you’ll do.”

“Do for what?”

He pulled me closer. Fuck me, he stank. The delightful combination of B.O. and cigar smoke took my breath away.

“I’m down a body, you cheeky little fucker. So you can do Shane’s shift..”

He let go of my arm. I resisted the impulse to rub it.

“Robert, leave that sack of shit alone and show our new boy the ropes. Oh and get him some overalls.”

The man went inside; he obviously thought I was going to follow him like good little sheep. I went back over and helped Robert get his pal back on his feet.

“Thanks, man,” Robert said.

“It’s okay. Help me get his jacket off.”

“Why?” Robert said suspiciously.

“He needs to cool down,” I replied.

“You’re lying. You’re going to steal his jacket.”

I shook my head. “Look, this fucker tried to piss on me and, naturally, I retaliated, but as I’m a nice guy, I gave him some ibuprofen I had spare.”

Robert looked confused.

“Look, do you think it’s normal for a guy who’s just had his bollocks twisted off to be giggling like a baby? Look, he’ll come round in about ten minutes.”

By that time, I’d be on the other side of town, in possession of a suitable set of clothing and some nice hot pies.

Robert still looked doubtful as I left him removing Shane’s coat. I walked towards the staff entrance.

“Aren’t you going to wait for me?” he asked.

“I need to get something to eat. I’ll be two minutes. I’ll meet you inside. Can you find me an overall?”

Robert nodded. “Don’t let Baxter see you wandering about without me, he’ll blow a fuse.”

I reassured Robert and left him trying to make his stoned buddy comfortable on two milk crates. As I pushed through the scratched plastic curtains, I tried to figure out just why Robert had thanked me. To my knowledge I hadn’t done anything to warrant such gratitude. Not that I was complaining, you understand, as any sort of hostility would be counter-productive, considering I still had to get food, avoid the fat fucker, retrieve Shane’s coat and get out of this working-class bargain shack before anyone raised the alarm.

Getting past Baxter wasn’t going to be a problem as he was having a blazing row with the owner of a DVD stall. The young Asian dude was smaller than me but he was still giving as much as he got. I was glad of the diversion; it made my journey through the still-closed market easier. The traders were too busy pretending not to watch the argument than stop a drenched teenager dressed like a harlequin. I reached the pie stall unnoticed. One day I’d thank Mr. Baxter for his timely diversion, I’d even buy him a crate of antiperspirant. It was foolish of me entering the market looking like a colour-blind hippy. I should have grabbed the coat first, and at least I would have been disguised from the bottom up. It wouldn’t have been that much of a problem to get it, my capacity for on-the-spot bullshit had surprised even me that morning.

I tried to attract the attention of the woman behind the counter

“Are you lost, deary?” she asked. “Only we ain’t open yet.”

She made me jump. “I’m working on the fruit and veg stall today,” I replied.

She smiled and nodded.

“That big guy over there?”

It seemed strange for her to call someone else big.

“So you’re working for Mr. Todd, are you?”

She was trying to pull a fast one. She wasn’t as dumb as she looked. I’d have to remember that.

“Do you mean Mr. Baxter?”

She laughed. “So I do. Sorry deary, Mr. Todd was the gentleman who had the stall before him. I didn’t know he was hiring. Where’s Shane? I’m sure I’ve seen the lad this morning.”

This woman wasn’t going to let me leave until she had milked all the information out of me. She hadn’t even asked me what I wanted yet which led me to believe that I could be here for some time if I didn’t sort her out.

I gripped the counter. “I don’t want to seem impolite, Miss, but Mr. Baxter doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks Robert is showing me the ropes.” I looked back and attempted to be anxious, to reinforce my lie.

“Listen to me babble on like an old fishwife. I don’t want to get you into trouble, not on your first day. Now what can I get you?”

I asked for two steak pies and a bottle of water. While she was manhandling the food into bags, I thought it would have been better to let her warble on for a little longer after all. The market would be opening soon, so I would be able to lose myself in the crowds. I turned around and watched a grey-haired man set up his second hand bookstall.

He had a folded-up newspaper on the stool next to him. It was the early edition of our local paper. My face was on the front page. I turned my back to him and hoped to God that he hadn’t read the bloody thing yet. I was confident that my luck would hold out; after all he was grey and old and it was common knowledge that anyone over the age of sixty had crap eyesight. The woman placed two paper bags and a bottle of water on the glass counter. I already had the money in my hand. When I asked how much, she shook her head and grinned at me.

“I couldn’t take your money, lad, not on your first day in the market.”

I gathered up the items and started to turn, but she hadn’t finished with me yet.

“Now don’t you get too worked up about your new boss. As long as you’re okay with him you’ll get along fine. You don’t have to take my word for it, just ask his dad, he’s right behind you.” She leaned on the counter. I was surprised it took her weight. I could see right down her top. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Hey Harry! What’s your lad like?”

Oh, crap she was talking to the old codger behind me. I turned around and stared at my feet. I wanted to get out of there.

“Well you’re a shy one,” he said. He’d sat on the stool. The paper was underneath his bony arse; I might still be ok.

“I really must be going,” I said to both of them. The woman was still leaning on the counter, exposing her assets to anyone who cared to notice.

I’ll take back what I said about the old man’s vision. Harry’s eyesight was excellent and he wasn’t looking at me.

“Thank you so much for the pies, madam.” I bowed and doffed my non-existent cap.

She blushed. “Get away with you, and if Gerald has a pop at you, just send the big oaf over here and I’ll sort him out.”

Gerald? Was that Baxter’s first name? A shrill ringing echoed through the building.

“Doors about to open, it’s time to make some money.” Harry rubbed his hands together. The image of hundreds of shoppers all carrying the local paper under their arms ran through my head. I thanked the woman again and set off towards the trader’s entrance.

“Make sure you give my love to Donna,” shouted the woman. That made me pause for a second. Was she talking to me? And if so, how the bloody hell did she know that I was Donna’s boyfriend? I didn’t go back to ask as that would have been totally stupid. There was no sign of the fat man. He wasn’t behind his stall, which pleased me, as I had no desire to see him again and I didn’t want to bump into him on the way out.

I considered doubling back and sneaking through the normal market doors but that would have been the height of folly. I sneaked past his stall; he definitely wasn’t there, and the area just wasn’t big enough to hide a man of his size. He must have been outside.

“Just great,” I muttered. I hastily constructed an excuse to explain my absence and pushed through the plastic curtains.

I didn’t go straight out into the yard. I stood in the alcove; the two lads were just where I’d left them.

As I walked over, I tried to remember just what it was to feel normal, when the most trivial of circumstances could occupy your every waking thought. I can’t explain how jealous I felt. It was obvious that as soon as Shane returned to the planet Earth, all they would be discussing would be my sudden arrival into their lives and how to get Shane his job back. By looking at their strained smiles, I thought they might have come up with a plan.

Shane held out his hand, it was clear from the desperation showing on his face that he wanted to get this pretend apology out of the way as quickly as possible. He wasn’t alone; I wanted to be out of there too. I grabbed his hand and shook it.

“No hard feelings, mate,” he said. “I didn’t know, honest. It’s just that I saw you on the floor and dressed like that, I mean, what else could I think? You won’t believe what these drugged-up scumbags would get up to if we didn’t discourage them. They sneak into the market, stealing stuff and damaging stock.”

Robert nodded enthusiastically as Shane catalogued the crimes this evil gang of international terrorists had committed over the past few weeks. I held up my hand.

“Look guys,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t bother waiting for Robert to pass me the overalls, I just picked them up and checked them for size. They weren’t a brilliant fit, but they didn’t look as outlandish as the rubbish I had on. The lads had fallen silent.

Shane licked his lips. “So you’re staying then?” he said nervously. They both looked uneasy, their attitude had changed when I’d taken an interest in the clothing. Robert took a step back. He looked terrified and I knew it wasn’t because of his friend losing his job.

Shane was trying to conceal something in his right hand, something shiny. I pretended to ignore them while I studied my new clothes.

“I said, are you definitely staying?”

I did note the edge of menace that had crept into Shane’s tone but, despite the fun I was having and the much-needed light relief these boys were providing, I had stuff to do and places to go. It was time to finish this. I smiled.

“I’ve squared it with Baxter,” I said. “I’ll be out of here before you know it and he says you can have your old job back.”

His reaction to my lie was not what I expected: the suspicion that was written all over his face caused me to pause. The guy was all psyched up to attack me and I bet that if he did then Robert would join in. So much for my bloated belief that I’d be able to charm these two idiots into thinking that everything was back to normal. I could run. I doubted that they would chase me, but fuck that. I wanted his coat.

“So you’ve squared it with Baxter,” Shane sneered. “You’re just a walking bullshit factory, you know that?”

His friend looked as surprised as I did by this outburst.

“Come on, Shane, leave him be. Let’s go find Baxter.”

Shane was in no mood to go anywhere. He grabbed my hand but this time he didn’t shake it. He pulled me towards him and I found out exactly what he had been concealing. He pushed a jagged tin can lid against my throat.

“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Robert.

His voice actually went up an octave. I, on the other hand, was as calm as a cucumber. It was going to take more than a drug-induced paranoid psycho to rattle my feathers.

“Baxter doesn’t let people go,” he shouted in my ear. “Once he has your balls in his fat hand, then you’re his for life.”

The lad was crying.

“This means you’re running away, which means he’ll kick the shit out of me and Rob.”

I didn’t get it. I thought that these guys would be glad to see the back of me. I got the feeling that Shane was borderline mentally unstable. My drug cocktail must have pushed him over the edge. This situation was getting silly.

“I know that you’ve known him longer than me so I’m guessing what I said did sound a little odd, but he did let me go.”

“Liar!” he hissed. The tin lid broke the skin. A single drop of blood fell onto his thumb.

“I told him I was gay and I asked if he was comfortable with an HIV-positive man handling his fruit and veg.”

Shane acted like I had given him an electric shock. I knew I could rely on his half-baked bigotry to get him off me. I picked up his coat and dabbed my neck with the sleeve. When I offered it back, he shook his head and told me to keep it. I grabbed the overalls and my bag of food and walked out of the market yard. I didn’t turn around.

Chapter Seventeen

I didn’t stray too far from the market yard; my empty stomach wouldn’t allow it. I’d been a little too busy to hunt for food at the party and I knew for a fact that if I had scoffed anything last night or before I set off then it had been lost in my unaccountable brain fog.

I leaned on the other side of the tall brick wall that surrounded the market yard and devoured the two pies. The water washed it down, followed by licking the grease and pastry flakes off the ends of my fingers for afters. I climbed into the overalls and tried on my new jacket, it wasn’t what I would normally wear, plus it smelled of cigarette smoke but it didn’t matter; I could now pass for a member of the general public.

There was a lad sat on a bike on the other side of the road. He was staring at me whilst talking on a mobile phone. I decided to ask the lad to supply the time. I hurried over the empty road towards him. I wasn’t even halfway across before he pedalled off. I got the impression that he’d buggered off because I was walking towards him.

I had better things to do than worry about some stupid kid who was nervous around strangers. In retrospect, maybe approaching the lad wasn’t one of my better ideas, not when I’d just found out that my mug shot was plastered on the front of the local rag. So much for having a clear head.

Bugger knowing the time, I was sure that he would wait if I was a little late, it wasn’t like he had somewhere more important to go. Why was I so eager to rush, anyway? Besides, it was only five minutes walk to the car park. If I avoided the town and went along the canal, it would take ten minutes. I stayed on the side and sneaked past the market yard entrance, keeping my head down. My precautions were not needed, as the yard was empty. I turned the corner, crossed over the high street, and followed one of the numerous back alleys that led onto the old bridle path.

As I reached the canal side, I was relieved to see it devoid of people. I looked over to the bridge I was heading for. A double-decker bus passed over, coming into town. The bus was packed with commuters and shoppers, all going about their daily business. I wondered how many of them had their eyes glued to the newsprint of the local newspaper. Oh, fuck! I’d just realised, my family, friends, and people at work would be doing the same; reporters would be banging on their doors, eager for juicy titbits about my life.

If the reporters were there, then the police would be as well. When they searched my house, it wouldn’t be long before they found Dave. It  wasn’t like he was well hidden. I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to realise the implications.

There was nothing else for it; as soon as this was over, I’d have to sneak out of the country and start a new life in the States. Christian would help me, I bet he had loads of experience in getting false IDs and passports and stuff like that. I wondered if I’d be able to convince Donna to come with me. That was strange, I was sure I’d already had this conversation. I shook my head; I was getting ahead of myself again. It might be best to see just what Christian had in store before I made future plans.

I looked up and saw that kid again. He was on the bridge talking on his mobile phone and staring at me. I was sure it was the same lad. This wasn’t a coincidence, the little fucker was following me. This time I wasn’t going to let him get away, and I had to know why he was following me. He saw me running towards him and yet he stayed where he was. I expected him to bugger off like he did last time. What was he playing at? Then I saw exactly why he wasn’t moving: three more bike-riding youths joined him on the bridge. I stopped, unsure of whether I should continue or not.

The lad waved and beckoned me to come closer. He couldn’t have been waving at me, I didn’t have a clue who he was, so whose attention was he trying to get? I turned around and saw the true reason why I hadn’t scared him away. Two miniature meatheads were stomping along the bridle path, one kid was cutting through the carpark and the two lads on the bridge had dismounted and were jogging down the path.

I was trapped, outfoxed by a gang of BMX kids. They must have been watching me before I entered the market. I didn’t give them a chance to get any closer. I put my head down and charged towards the two coming up the bridle path. How were they going to be able to stop me? I was twice their size. These kids may have only just been out of their nappies but they were more streetwise than I gave them credit for and a thirteen stone youth charging towards them didn’t faze them one bit. They clearly had no intentions of moving which was weird. Whatever, if the pint-sized twats wanted to be big men, I’d just knock them into the canal. I didn’t care.

The boy next to the canal edge neatly side-stepped my lumbering form, leaving his foot where it was. I went arse over tit and ended up kissing a flagstone. They didn’t wait for me to get up, the one who had tripped me up booted me in the ribs while the other one ran up to my head. I didn’t wait to see what the nasty little fucker was going to try. I grabbed his jeans with one hand and punched his crotch with my other fist.

He fell to his knees, clutching his privates and howling and sobbing. I used him like a stepladder to reach the nasty little shit that had kicked me in the side. He got a rabbit punch in the gut for his trouble. I was surprised at how little guilt I was feeling at hitting a pair of kids, and they were kids; I guessed they were thirteen, maybe fourteen. I did show some restraint, though, as I only winded the kid and the other one would be fine in a few days once his bollocks stopped aching. It’s not like I broke his jaw, which is what I wanted to do.

I looked up and was a little shocked to see half a classroom of kids running towards me. I about-turned and sped off down the bridle path. They might only be kids but I wasn’t stupid enough to tackle that many. There was a lock about a mile along this path. If I could get across that, I could lose them in the woods and then double back.

I didn’t care if my face was in the papers anymore, as soon as I got out of the woods I was going to call a taxi to the carpark. It was safer. If I knew I was going to do marathon running today, I would have chosen Special K and a bottle of isotonic water instead of two greasy pasties. The bloody things were repeating on me as I ran. I burped and tasted chilli sauce and spicy meat.

I glanced behind me, the kids were gaining and I knew that I was slowing down. I needed that taxi now. The charge towards the two kids had drained me of my last remaining strength. There was no way in hell that I was going to be able to reach that lock without keeling over. I didn’t even know why they were chasing me.

I flew past a pile of assorted rubbish that some scrote had dumped. There appeared to be a steel bar sticking out of a Sainsbury’s carrier bag. I stopped and went back to investigate. It was only a rusty curtain pole. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and picked it up. It would have to do as I was in no shape to continue running.

This was where I would make my stand. Maybe they would be communicative and supply me with some answers now that I was armed. I took a closer look at my improvised shaolin staff. It was rusted to fuck; one good swing and the bloody thing would fall to bits. I wondered how cold the canal water was, because swimming to the other side was beginning to look like my only viable route out of this mess. Once they saw that I was carrying a weapon, it should give me time to fire off a couple of innocuous questions, but as soon as they saw that the pole was about as deadly as a marshmallow pillow, they’d be on me like a pack of dogs.

The crowd had stopped and a few of them peeled away from the main group and walked towards me. They were taking their time approaching me. They knew that I was going nowhere. There were two lads in the middle who stood out; they were older and taller than the others. I think I’d seen them at the party last night. Could that be the reason why I was being chased? Perhaps those two were accomplices of Stig. They parted to allow a lad to ride through them. He was probably closer to my age. I didn’t recognize him as he was wearing dark glasses and a hoodie pulled over his head and a scarf around his mouth. He was coming towards me whilst riding a BMW. What a dork, did he not realise how stupid he looked? The two older kids followed him. They all stopped a couple of feet away. BMX King ordered one of the two lads to hold his wheels and he swaggered towards me. Why wasn’t the glum-faced bastard holding the handlebars laughing? He should have been giggling like a loon at his friend’s preferred form of transport. BMX King stopped just beyond reach of my curtain pole.

“Are you, Adrian?” he asked.

I nodded. That voice sounded familiar. It was difficult to tell with the dork talking through the material.

“Stig’s put a reward out for your capture.”

My first thought was that Stig had told me he was dead. I had this image of him being skewered to an old-fashioned chair. I blinked a couple of times to clear the scene; I didn’t know where that had come from. I suppressed a smirk. I gazed at the lad in his disguise, not believing what he had just said.

“You have got to be fucking having me on. So who are you supposed to be? Clint Eastwood?”

I pointed to the bike.

“And is that child’s bike your trusty steed?”

The boy just stared, and then extracted a pistol from the front of his trousers. I had no plans to let some fucking schoolie ventilate me. My choices were now down to one option; I turned and jumped into the canal.

The shock of plunging into the ice-cold waters of Leechester’s canal caused me to gasp involuntary, which was one of the worst things I could have done. A cupful of water went down my throat. There hadn’t been any fish in the water for over ten years; even the ducks had to wear Hazmat suits before they’d swim in that muck. I coughed, hacked, and spluttered my way to the other side, and hoped that the chemical soup that I had ingested wouldn’t make my hair and teeth fall out.

The area where I had chosen to dive in had been, until recently, used as an anchor point for the barges to the bank, and was a little lower. If I had jumped in further down, there was a two foot drop from the bank to the water. It may not sound much but I bet it would be if you were trying to reach it before you drowned in horrible, grey, pungent slime.

I climbed out onto the flagstones and retched. The inside of my mouth tasted like diesel. My teeth were chattering and I couldn’t stop shivering. I was now glad that I’d put the overalls over my old clothes; the two layers had given me a little more protection from the cold. Now all this clothing was weighing me down. I hadn’t even stood up yet but I still felt like I had doubled my weight. Getting some more clothes was going to have to be my first priority.

The boys had left the bank and were now running or cycling towards the bridge. I hoped the fuckers got run over, I really did. I reckoned that I had about five minutes before they caught up with me. The town hall clock chimed nine times, Christian would be wondering where the fuck I was. If it was nine that meant the shops would be opening and that gave me an idea. I got up, shook off an old condom that was lodged in my bootlaces and squelched towards town. My stomach was cramping up, if they did spot me then I’d have to find a secure hiding place. I was in no shape to run from anyone.

My confidence was further ebbed away when I saw the trail of slimy, wet footprints I was leaving. Oh Jesus, what a mess. Why didn’t I just paint fucking big arrows on the walls indicating where I was going?

My unscheduled swim was responsible for making me cold, wet and stinking like a compost bin, but before I’d jumped in, the threads of my forced amnesia had been beginning to unravel. The shock of hitting the freezing water shut those strange thoughts out like a steel trap. I  wasn’t sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. I didn’t remember exactly what I was remembering but I did recall how I felt and I felt like my head was ballooning and shrinking at the same time. Did I really want to walk around the streets of Leechester with a scrambled head and those vicious little thugs after my blood?

It had been well over five minutes since I’d left the canal, those kids would be in town by now; if they were smart and split up, with so many of them, they’d be able to find me easily if I stayed out in the open, especially at this time when the place was almost deserted. Staying out in plain sight was the last thing I intended to do; in fact, I was just about to get out of sight. I stopped in front of a plate glass window and peered inside. Amongst the untidy piles of old shoes, broken toys, and garish church fete clothes, I spied an old woman who I think was called Hilda. I had arrived at one of Leechester’s many charity shops. Our town, like many others, had been swamped with the bloody things over the years but this one was different. It had been here since the sixties and collected for the town’s orphaned animals, kids, or something.

Donna told me about the place ages ago; her mother’s aunt Hilda owned the shop. I had never noticed it before. It seemed most kids weren’t aware of the place unless they were dragged in by their mothers. This was going to be a first for me. I’d never been in a charity shop before, even when my mum used to donate our old stuff to the posher shops on the high street. I used to stay outside. Even my mother wouldn’t come to this one.

I pushed open the door; the bell on the frame chimed once. I hurried inside and shut the door behind me. The shop was a lot warmer than it was outside but it smelt funny: musty, like old socks and mouldy sofas, but then again, I smelled like a fucking sewage plant so perhaps I wasn’t in the position to be whining. While I waited for her to notice that she had a customer, I silently rehearsed my hastily constructed story.

“Hello,” she said. I didn’t even notice that she had moved. “You must be Adrian. You’re wet lad, has it been raining?”

How the bloody hell did she know who I was? I was about to turn and run out of the shop, thinking that she must have seen the article in the paper, but then common sense kicked in. If she had read the news, she would have been the one running out of the shop. I knew what our local rag was like for using flowery language. Probably described me as a hardened criminal who was to be shot on sight or some bullshit like that. Donna must have shown her a load of pictures of me, which made sense, it’s what women do best; you go round to their house and the family photo album is on your lap before you have time to hold onto the cup of tea thrust into your hand.

Hilda was a small woman. Her head came up to my shoulders, but what she lacked in height she made up with presence. It’s hard to describe, but when her beautiful, penetrating, blue eyes locked onto mine, I felt she was stripping me down, layer by layer. You could fall in love with a woman with eyes like those. Of course, you would have to knock forty years off her age first. I wished she would stop staring at me. I felt like a child in front of her that had done something really naughty like stolen money out of her purse or shot next door’s cat with an air rifle. I blinked and looked away. I did not like how she made me feel.

The picture that I had built up in my mind before I entered the shop was of a kindly old lady who was a little dim and had failing eyesight. That image dissolved as soon as she looked at me and so did my lie; I had forgotten what I was going to say.

“Some kids pushed me into the canal,” I said. My cheeks were glowing; I hadn’t blushed for bloody years. “I just wondered if I could buy some clothes off you to keep me dry until I got home.” I fished out the three pounds fifty and held it in the air like a trophy. “I’ve got money.”

I attempted to give her my famous winning smile but I couldn’t find the correct facial muscles to use, it looked like my lying skills weren’t the only thing that had deserted me. I replayed what I had just said back in my mind; it sounded nothing like the sophisticated lie that I was originally going to spin. She was about to ask me why I didn’t just go home and change there. I knew she was and she’d be right. Who the bloody hell would stop off at a charity shop to buy clothes?

“Put your money away, Adrian. Charity works both ways, you know, and close your mouth, you look like a goldfish.”

I kept the money in my hand.

“Thank you,” I said. I couldn’t put into words what a relief it was to meet a genuinely nice person, although I did wonder if she would have still extended the same warm hand of friendship if I hadn’t been Donna’s boyfriend.

“The gent’s section is over there,” she said. “Take whatever you want, but get out of those wet things before you catch your death.”

She hurried off to her desk and picked up a folded newspaper. It was the local paper and it was today’s. Oh crap; she hadn’t a bloody clue that I was Donnas boyfriend, she’d read the paper. She came back and laid the paper on the carpet next to me.

“Stand on that, I don’t want half the canal soaking into my carpet, thank you very much. Now, while you are choosing and changing, I’ll go make us a nice cup of tea.”

When I unzipped the jacket, the overalls flapped open, revealing the cardigan underneath.

“How many sugars do…” The woman’s face drained of blood.

“Don’t move,” she snapped. Hilda hurried back to her table and rummaged through a cardboard box, she came back with three bin bags.

“Put the stuff you are wearing into these and tie it securely.”

The sudden change in her was astonishing. Why had the cardigan affected her so much?  I couldn’t ask her, as she had gone, presumably, to make those two hot drinks. She never did ask me how many sugars I took.

I chose some dark clothes off the rail and found a pair of army boots that were my size. There was a distasteful patterned curtain drawn across a walk in cupboard. I guessed that was her changing room. I borrowed a towel off the shelf as well; I didn’t think she’d mind. She could always wash it once I’d finished with it. The changing room smelled better than the shop. The pleasant scent of a wooded meadow drifted through the air, it reminded me of how our bathroom used to smell after my mother had finished attacking it with a vast array of cleaning products.

I’m sure that thought has been through my head today already. I didn’t pursue it; I had other things on my mind. I peeled the soaked clothes off and deposited them in the bags. It was the cardigan that had sent her over the edge. I wrapped the towel around me and looked at it on top of the other clothes. Did she know where it came from and how I ended up wearing it?  I dried myself and got dressed. That cardigan was fucking disgusting. I shivered and tried my best to remember just how it ended up on me but I gave up after a minute. It was no good, there was nothing there. I tied the bags and left the changing room. The bin bags stayed where they were.

The newspaper had gone, that was annoying. I was hoping to see what had been written about me. Hilda was busy putting it into another bin bag. I saw two cups of tea on her desk.

“I’ve cooled yours,” she said. “There’s been a lot of children passing the shop. Are these the same ones that pushed you into the canal?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to ring a taxi for you?”

I shook my head. Was this the same woman? She looked different, paler, subdued. I was so tempted to ask why the cardigan had upset her, but in the end I stayed quiet and gulped my warm tea down.

“What time is it?” I asked. She pointed to the wall clock, behind me. It read 9:15.

“I had better make tracks,” I said. “Thank you so much for the clothes and the tea.” I put the money quietly on her desk and walked towards the door. She intersected me, reached up and kissed me on the cheek. She was crying.

“Put this over you,” she said. She handed me a thick black coat. “I never thought that you would be the one to take this off me,” she said. “You take care.”

She opened the door, looked both ways, and ushered me out.

The streets were beginning to fill up, but thankfully I saw none of those vigilante kids. I turned around and pretended to look in a shop window. I should have gotten a hat; more shoppers increased the danger of someone recognizing me. I walked away from Hilda’s shop, keeping my head down, staying close to the buildings and taking my time. I didn’t want to rush about. I knew that I’d be spotted, despite the new clothes.

I took my eyes off the floor. I was getting paranoid that I’d been spotted, by both the kids and the general public. The shoppers would be mumbling into their mobiles, reporting my position to the police, whilst several kids would be creeping up behind me, waiting to pounce. I was jumping at shadows; there was nothing there, there was nobody behind me, and the few people that were around were too busy wrapped up in their own little lives to notice me.

I ducked into an alley away from prying eyes and attempted to calm down. I didn’t understand why I was being so jumpy. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was sweating like a pig as well. I wiped my brow and moved further down the alley where I hoped it would be cooler. Something crunched under my boot. I glanced down, thinking it would be a piece of glass, but it wasn’t. The floor had been littered with the remains of a mobile phone; there were bits everywhere. Somebody had really gone to town. Upon further inspection, the intact keypad and the battery looked familiar; it was the same model as the one I had lost. I picked up the battery and turned it around. There was a deep scratch all the way down the back, just like the deep scratch I had on mine. Oh shitting hell, this was my phone. What the fuck was going on and how did it end up down there?

Approaching footsteps froze me to the spot. I couldn’t really be sure if they were coming down here or were just passing the ally. I didn’t turn around just in case. I held the battery tight in my hand and silently counted to a hundred.

“What did you see?” The young male voice originated from the end of the alley, but who was he talking too?

“Dunno.”

That made me jump. There was someone standing next to me. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t see me.

“I thought I saw something move.” He was just a kid. I was hiding from someone whose balls hadn’t even dropped.

“Come on, Darren, stop fucking around. It was probably just a rat.”

Oh, this was so surreal, he was stood right next to me. I could see his trainers, and he didn’t have a clue that I was there. Weird. It’s not like it was that dark down there.

“Darren! He’s been spotted. The bastard doubled back on us, he’s just gone over the canal bridge.”

The feet turned around and walked away. I stood up as quickly as I could and glanced behind me. The lad was still in the alley, he didn’t seem to be in any rush as he was busy texting someone. I crept up behind him, which was a difficult task when you have army boots on and there are bits of phone all over the floor. I clamped my hand over his mouth, pressed him tight against me, and dragged him backwards. He was struggling like a mad thing and trying to bite my hand. I stopped and put my mouth close to his ear.

“If you don’t stop moving about, I’ll bite your earlobe off.”

I put his lobe in between my teeth and sank my teeth ever so slightly into the flesh. He screamed through my hand. It sounded like the whistle of an old-fashioned kettle. It did the trick, though; he went as limp as a rag doll. I dragged him back until I reached the end of the alley. I took my hand off his mouth and rested it on his genitals.

“See if you can guess what I’ll twist off if you make a sound.”

With my other hand, I searched him. He had a kitchen knife sellotaped to his thigh, and he didn’t whimper much when I ripped it off his leg. What on earth did he have this strapped to him for? This was Leechester, a sleepy little town in the north of England, it wasn’t the east end of London. In his back pocket, I found a Spiderman wallet: inside was a tenner and a library card with his full name and address on it. That would do nicely.

“So, Darren Ainsworth of 23 Carlton Avenue, I’m going to talk and you are going to listen. Nod your head if you understand.”

He did as I asked. I moved my hand and wrapped my arm around his neck. I brought the knife up and gently touched the inside of his ear with the tip.

“Don’t kill me,” he said.

“I see you have a library card. Libraries are good places to go. Running around the town and acting like a tiny fucking terrorist isn’t. Do you see what I’m trying to say?”

Judging by the wet stain that had appeared on his pants, I was wise to move my hand; looked like he’d need a change of clothing now.

“I know where you live, Darren, remember that.”

I pushed the knife another centimetre into his ear.

“If you don’t change your ways and become a good little boy, I’ll creep into your house when you and your mummy and daddy are asleep. I’ll kill daddy, then I’ll make you watch me rape your mum and then I’ll stick this knife into her brain.”

He was sobbing openly now and I was close to following him. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I sounded like Creepy Christian. I let go of him and he slid to the floor. I took his baseball cap off, he didn’t even notice, and placed it on my head. I don’t really go for caps but it helped to obscure my face.

My eyes alighted upon my salvation. Young Darren had a bike, he had leaned it against the wall while he had come to investigate. It had been years since I’d ridden a bike but I wasn’t going to turn this gift down. Darren’s BMX would get me to the carpark in no time.

“You are going to stay where you are and count to two-thousand very slowly. In fact, stay where you are until it gets dark. If I hear that you’ve moved, then I’ll come for you tonight.”

I walked away from the sobbing kid, seriously wondering if I’d traumatized the poor little bastard for the rest of his life. My pondering didn’t stop me from stealing his bike.

I peered out of the alley; two old ladies were entering Hilda’s shop and a pram-pushing mother was on the side, but apart from them the street was deserted. I was guessing that Darren’s friend had rushed off to the bridge. If all the kids were over there then my remaining journey should be uninterrupted. I pedalled my latest acquisition along the empty road, at first a little shakily but gaining confidence with every yard the bike ate. Darren’s knife, that he had no doubt stolen from his mum’s kitchen, went down the nearest drain. I watched it hit the swirling water and vanish.

“Good riddance,” I murmured. I should have asked him why he had it in the first place. I couldn’t imagine that a kid who possessed a Spiderman wallet would be a member of a criminal gang, which suggested that he had tooled up just for this occasion. That wasn’t a pleasant thought: hordes of kids roaming the town armed with cutlery with the sole intention of running me down and ventilating me.

There were just two more streets before I got to the roundabout on the edge of town. I was almost there. I got back on the bike and pedalled furiously. I was now one with the machine, and I almost regretted calling Kevin names, as this was enjoyable. I rode past a young lad gazing into the window of a sports shop. I didn’t pay him much attention as I assumed that everyone who was after me would be on the other side of town by now.

“Oi! Darren!” he shouted.

I stopped and looked back, which in retrospect was a bloody stupid thing to do. As soon as he saw that I wasn’t who he thought I was, he ran down that street faster than a whippet with its arse on fire. I noticed that he already had his mobile to his ear; it wouldn’t be long before reinforcements would arrive. I had lost my advantage already and I honestly thought that my luck had changed for the better.

I turned around and ran straight into the front of an approaching police car. It was about to park so the only damage caused was to my pride. I turned the bike around and pedalled up the next street, I just hoped to God that the plod hadn’t realised who had ran into them; if they did then the kiddies would be the least of my worries. There were bollards at the end, this street joined with the town’s new pedestrian zone. I risked a look back. I could see the front of the car, it hadn’t moved, maybe they hadn’t seen me, unless they had got out and were running up another street to intersect me. No, that was bollocks; if they were serious in catching me, they would have just charged up here and tried to pull me off my bike.

The car set off with lights blazing and sirens blasting, it drove straight past the street. I carried on riding through the bollards and into the new paved area of town. I should have turned back but I figured that if there was one police car skulking around then there was bound to be another.

What a stupid idea. The square was packed with people. All the major shops were here and there were kids everywhere, but those little darlings weren’t going to get hostile, not unless I stole their dummies. I was determined not to turn back; fuck them. I was worrying too much. Let them call the bloody police; I’d be at the carpark in another minute. If anyone did see through my cunning disguise, I’d be long gone before anyone showed up.

I stopped by a lamppost and stood on the pedals. This was the first time I’d been here since they’d redone it. There used to be a passageway at the top end in between a newsagent and Woolworths that led out to the roundabout. It was still there. An old guy who was chucking bread at pigeons started to have a go at me. He pointed to the sign that I was leaning against that said ‘no cycling’. I gave him the finger and pushed off. What a cheeky bastard, it also said ‘please don’t feed the pigeons’ on the same sign.

I built up speed and headed for the gap. The shoppers scattered like bowling pins. I swerved around the awkward ones who refused to move. There was nobody in the passageway, which was fortunate considering the speed I was going. I touched the brake handle. I didn’t want to end my journey by shooting out straight into the path of a speeding car. I rolled out of the passageway, straight into the path of an approaching community support officer.

“Get off that bike,” he said. “Have you any idea how dangerous it is to cycle on the paths? Didn’t you see the signs?”

I dismounted and apologized while staring at my feet. I was desperate for him not to recognize me.

“You look familiar.” So I should have, too, this was the same guy who was at our work a couple of days ago.

I sighed, looked up and waited for the realization to dawn on his face. He was taking his sweet time; he seemed more concerned about finding his notepad.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Oh, how my heart leaped. This chump didn’t have a clue who I was. He’d probably give me a speeding ticket or something and a telling off. With luck, he’d fuck off to annoy somebody else.

“Darren Ainsworth,” I replied.

I don’t think he was buying it; he stared at me for a full five seconds while fiddling with the radio in his hand.

“Are you sure that’s your name, sonny?” He was trying to free his handcuffs. The realisation had dawned. He was just trying not to let on.

That’s when the glass smashed.

We both looked; on the other side of the roundabout there was an old bank standing by itself.  The front window had been put through and a man with long white hair who was stood in front of the broken window was waving at us. I grinned; it was Christian. He must have gotten worried about me and decided to come find me. Here he was, rescuing me. There was something in his hand, it looked like a hammer. He walked up to a parked red Ford Focus and smashed the hammer into the windscreen. The noise of the breaking glass was over-shadowed by the car alarm emitting a piercing shriek.

The officer looked at me and then back at Christian, who was now skipping towards a BMW. He still didn’t have his handcuffs out.

“You wait here,” he ordered. I flashed him a goofy smile and watched him sprint over the road. Christian saw him coming and ran behind the travel agent’s.

I placed Darren’s bike against the wall and took two steps back. After a moment of contemplation, I took the hat off and balanced it on the handlebars. I doubted that he would get his stuff back but far stranger things had happened today. When the officer had followed Christian behind the building, I shot off the other way towards the carpark.

It took me just two minutes to reach the dry stonewall that surrounded the carpark. I never thought that I’d be so relieved and happy to see the place. There had been more than one occasion whilst working that I wished somebody would blow it up, but I think that every low-paid shop worker has had that fantasy. It was eerie to see the carpark devoid of vehicles, even the cherished spot where Laurence always parked his beloved pale blue Ford Cortina was empty. That wasn’t the only thing that felt weird. I did, too. I approached the carpark entrance with some trepidation. I still wasn’t sure that I was doing the right thing. After all the blood, death, and torture I had witnessed over the past few days and nights, you would have thought that I would be eager to put an end to it. So why was I having second thoughts? The urge to run in the opposite direction like a frightened rabbit got stronger the closer I got.

Even stroking the bracelet was having no effect in calming my nerves and dispensing these feelings. I slowed down and stopped. There was no sign of Christian near the store. Perhaps I should wait for him. He would know what to do to get me motivated again. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. The urge to flee was getting worse. I took a deep breath and let the air out in gasps. My legs weren’t the only part of my body betraying me, my guts were acting up now. The meat in those pies must have been off. The fat bitch had given me food poisoning. Oh for fuck’s sake, could my life get any worse? I snapped open my eyes and bent over the wall. I was going to puke, I could feel it. I hated being sick. My stomach rolled over but instead of feeling like it was going to turn inside out and then everything in it getting violently rejected, something big and solid travelled with great haste into the back of my throat. It felt like a tennis ball, a big fucking tennis ball. I couldn’t swallow, I couldn’t cough, I couldn’t fucking breathe. Oh God, oh fucking crap, I was dying. Something was choking me.

The abomination continued its progress up my throat. It squeezed its way past my Adam’s apple and anchored onto the roof of my mouth. I took in a big lungful of air. Now I did feel my stomach folding flat. Two mashed up pies rushed into my mouth and forced out of my gob like a cork in a wine bottle. My mouth hurt like buggery and I could feel bits of pastry stuck in my teeth. I looked over the wall at what had come out of my mouth. I stared at the vomit-splattered grass, unable to believe what had been inside me.

Resting on top of the pastry slush was a fucking huge, ribbed, black slug-thing. I must have swallowed it when I’d almost drowned in the canal, how else could it have got there? I belched and tasted chilli sauce; I leaned back over, just in case any more was going to come up. When my shadow crossed this thing, it jerked and curled in on itself. Jesus, it  wasn’t dead! Hundreds of tiny white tendrils burst out from all over its slimy body. They whipped about in the air for a moment then retreated back. I put my hand over the wall and clicked my fingers. The tendrils shot back out, each one pointing at my fingers. I jerked my hand back. It burrowed into the sick and sank into the ground. A tiny bubble was the only evidence that it had ever been there. I swallowed, then swallowed again. Although my stomach was still queasy, overall, I felt better than I had in hours. My urge to run away had gone, in fact I was eager to meet up with Christian and get this over and done with. I took one last look at where I had thrown up; don’t ask me why, I just did. It was like trying to explain why blokes always look at the contents of their handkerchief after they’ve blown their nose in it. The sick had gone, there were still a couple of gluey blobs stuck to the blades of grass but most of it had disappeared. The slug thing had gone, too. I was guessing that it had burrowed into the ground. A cratered hole the size of a medal was the only evidence that it had been there. I refused point blank to speculate at what had just happened and ran to the carpark entrance.

Should the Clockwise Electrical Emporium building have been empty? Sure, it was closed to the general public but if there was an investigation in process then there should have been at least some police presence. And on that note, was it such a good idea to choose to meet here? The building looked like it hadn’t been occupied for weeks, but as I got closer, I saw that the shutters weren’t even down yet. It had survived the weekend without getting broken into so there must have been someone official there. At last, I spotted him; he was crouching behind the granite slab. Christian appeared to be having a very heated argument with someone, but I couldn’t see anyone else. I waved but he didn’t see me. I sneaked up behind him and coughed.

His body stayed where it was but his head didn’t. It swivelled around one hundred and eighty degrees, his eyes were the colour of rubies.

“Hello fuckface,” Creepy Christian said.

I jumped back and looked around. This wasn’t right, where the fuck was the nice one? He stood up and slithered out of his hiding place. He had a policeman by his hair. It looked like he had been sitting on him. The man was still clinging onto life but he couldn’t last long, not with the injuries he had sustained. His clothes had been ripped off and so had most of his skin and outer flesh. It looked like a dozen tigers had attacked him. His eyes locked onto mine. I turned away. This was my fault, another one to add to my list.

“I couldn’t wait for you to stop pissing about up there so I decided to make a start. What were you doing up there, anyway? Hello? I’m talking to you.”

My legs moved of their own volition, and I found myself looking at the bastard whether I wanted to or not. The man had died. The demon had thrown him behind the slab.  The resemblance to Uncle’s granite slab and gravestone was uncanny.

“Two snacks in the space of a few minutes. This is where the fun really starts, Adrian. It’s getting to the point where I don’t need you anymore.”

Why the fuck wasn’t my bracelet working? He walked up to me and looked deep into my eyes. The expression on his face changed from triumph to disbelief and then to anger.

“What the fuck have you been up to, you dirty slag?”

The policeman wasn’t the only one that had been discarded. The copper had landed on someone else, this body had been ripped to bits. I recognized a jacket like the one I’d seen on the forklift truck and a hard hat.

“This isn’t fair!” He was raging at the sky. “He was mine, I saw him first.”

He rushed up to me and grabbed my mouth, opened it wide and peered inside.

“So that’s what you were doing up there, it must have sensed that I was close.” He pushed me back and gazed at his talons.

“You’re no fucking good to me anymore,” he spat. “You’ve been tainted, contaminated by another one.”

“But I’ve invested too much time in you to let everything go to waste.” He picked me up by my ear and gripped the side of my head. “Let’s just see what you did last night.”

His red eyes burned through mine, it felt like he was stroking my brain with hot knives. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Thankfully, everything went black.

“Come on, wake up you fucker.”

I opened my eyes to sky. I was lying on tarmac. My recent experiences filtered through my dull brain. I groaned, shut my eyes, and wanted to die. He grabbed my ear and pulled me off the floor.

“You can’t go to sleep just yet, young man. As soon as I’ve gained enough strength, we’re going after his insurance policy.”

He dragged me towards the main doors.

“Before we get your girl, I want to play with some toy trains.”

I saw his fist rocketing towards my face but I don’t remember it connecting.

Chapter Eighteen

I was on the floor again but I wasn’t outside in the carpark, I was lying on cold tiles. I’d assumed that he’d dragged me into the shop and left me in the foyer until I heard a woman singing. She had a good voice, it was a little flat in places, but still, I found her harmonious warbling relaxing and soothing.

I wasn’t in the shop. Somehow I had woken up in somebody’s kitchen and I was guessing that the owner had just walked past me. I couldn’t follow her or get an accurate picture because I couldn’t move. It felt like he had glued me to the floor. Only my eyes were mobile. There was no sign of Creepy Christian but because my vision was limited, he could have been two foot behind me and I wouldn’t know.

The woman stopped beside my head. This was my first chance to observe the woman whose voice had entranced me. My first shock was that she was old, as in pension book, grey permed hair and bingo old. But she had such a young and beautiful voice. I always thought that old people voices went all weird and, well, old. My second shock was that she couldn’t see me. The woman stepped over my immobile body and retrieved a saucepan from a cupboard. She then walked out of my line of sight whilst humming some ancient melody.

I couldn’t see much, but what parts of the kitchen I could see all looked like it should belong in a museum; it was so old. Had he sent me back in time? Or was this just another one of his stupid games?

Her singing stopped. The few seconds of silence were broken by a sharp intake of breath. The temperature of the room dropped by a few degrees. I could see my breath come out in grey clouds. Someone else had entered the kitchen. There was scuffling; a chair tipped over and a fork covered in white sauce clattered to the tiles beside my head.

I struggled against my bonds but gave up after a few seconds. I felt like a fly in a spider’s web. The sound of something hard striking flesh was thunderous.

“Stop fucking moving or I’ll bite your face off.”

That was Creepy Christian. I could recognize his evil and gravelled voice anywhere. His upside down head appeared above mine.

“Hello, Adrian. Are you comfortable down there? No? Tough shit. I’ll deal with you in a moment after I’ve sorted her out. Don’t go away.”

His head retreated. I heard him going through her kitchen drawers and cupboards. He came back and dangled a roll of insulation tape over me.

“Of all the fun items I found in the old bag’s kitchen, I have decided to use this.”

The woman was struggling not to cry. I tried to speak, to threaten Creepy Christian or at least plead for her life. I didn’t know who this woman was or why he had decided to pick on her. But my vocal cords, like the rest of me, refused to work.

I heard him unroll the tape. Her sobbing became muffled. There was no guessing to where he’d put the first piece. He continued to unroll the tape and tear pieces off. This seemed to go on for ages. I attempted to tune the noise of his actions and her stifled whimpers out and concentrated on watching a spider crawl across the ceiling.

Creepy Christian appeared over my head like a demonic jack in the box and balanced the now empty roll on my chest, then clicked his fingers.

“A few more energy snacks and I won’t need tape to immobilise them.  I’ll be able to control my victims like puppets; like I do to you.” He stood up and tapped my head with his feet.

“Come on, shithead, didn’t you hear me click my fingers? Get the fuck off the floor and tell me what you think of my statue.”

He was right. I was no longer like a fly caught in amber. I wiggled my fingers and then my toes.

“Get the fuck off the floor!” he shouted.

My body started to itch. I felt like I had been infested with millions of fleas. I sat up and scratched my ankles, then my arms and neck. It didn’t matter how hard I scratched, the itch got worse. I was too preoccupied to see the furrows I was leaving on the inside of my arms. Then as quickly as it started the itching disappeared. I paused in mid-scratch and looked for the fucker who’d gained great pleasure in tormenting the fuck out of me. He stood in front of the old woman.

“Finished?” he said. “The next time I tell you to do something, you pay attention or I’ll make you eat your genitals.”

I watched my self-inflicted wounds heal up and then fade away. I was so close to tears; I couldn’t take anymore. I gazed at the grinning monster who was casually picking his nose and so wanted him out of my life.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Because I can and because I’m still upset and annoyed that you’ve been double dating me you dirty little slut.”

“Let me go,” I pleaded.

He shook his head. “Fat chance of that happening sunbeam, you came back with the sole intention of killing me. I’m not going to let my would be murderer go unscathed. Do I look like the forgiving type to you?”

He skipped towards me and got down to his knees in front of me. He flashed me my own goofy smile and kissed me on the forehead.

“Look, Adrian. I’m sorry about shouting at you; it’s just that I’ve spent so much time nurturing you, and then he comes along and spoils you.”

He kissed me again and tenderly stroked my hair.

“You’ve had a bad time of it and I know you are close to breaking, so don’t get too upset if I tell you just one more little secret.”

He let my head fall to the floor and crossed his arms against his chest

“What I’m about to tell you is God’s honest truth. Christian isn’t coming to your rescue.”

He laughed aloud. “He doesn’t exist. It was me all along.”

The fucker was almost in hysterics. I point blank refused to listen to him. This was just another one of his stupid games.

“Oh, the look on your face when you saw me in the canteen was priceless. Now that we have that nasty business out of the way; tell me what you think? I mean, do I have it in me to become an artist?”

He took a step to the side and showed me what he had done to the lady. Only the top half of her face was visible. He hasn’t happy with just securing her to the chair, she looked like an over-wrapped Christmas present. I picked up the empty roll and looked at it; there just wasn’t enough on it to do what he had done.

Her eyes sought out mine and locked. She gave me that look. That pleading look that I had come to know and dread. There was still hope in her eyes, unlike that policeman who had already resigned himself to the inevitability of dying. He was going to kill her and there was fuck all I could do about it.

“Well? What do you think?”

What did he want me to say? I tried to think of anything I could say to stop him from killing her.

“You are right, it is er…very artistic, but it would be better if you just let her go.”

He giggled, then grabbed her nose and pinched her nostrils together.

“I’m a naughty boy.”

I tensed. He spun his head around. “You can stay there. Remember the fleas.”

I sat on a chair and closed my eyes, feeling like a complete cowardly bastard while he suffocated her.

“Can I have a cup of tea, mum?”

I shot out of my chair. I knew that voice. Creepy Christian sniggered.

“He’s the real reason why I brought you here. She’s just an added bonus.”

The voice belonged to Laurence, my supervisor, and I was in his kitchen, witnessing the murder of the only person in his sad, lonely life that he had ever loved.

“Won’t be a moment, dear,” said Creepy Christian in a perfect imitation of the woman he was currently killing. Laurence’s mother had stopped thrashing about, he still had hold of her nose.

“She’s nearly gone,” he said. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and make your boss a cup of tea.”

I stayed where I was. He shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

He finally let go of her nose. Her head should have slumped back or forward but the amount of tape he had used ensured that it stayed where it was. Looking at me, her dead eyes were no longer pleading.

“Let’s go play with his trains, Adrian.”

He grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. He turned to me and put a finger against his lips. He pointed to a rectangular hole in the ceiling and a DIY ladder leading up there. The overpowering smell of cinnamon filled the air and clogged my nostrils. I held my breath so I couldn’t inhale as the stench made me want to retch. My experience of that activity today made me eager not to repeat it. I had smelled that particular smell before but it wasn’t as strong and I was too preoccupied to notice. It was at the party, just after the demon had killed Chantelle and everything went all weird.

The demon ushered me to the base of the ladder. He slapped me on my arse.

“Go on, son, up you go.”

I did as I was told and clambered up the ladder and into the loft, the demon didn’t waste any time in following me up.

“Behold, witness the behaviour of a lonely man who has no friends and nobody to love.”

I take back what I’d said about his mother being his only true love. I’m sure she loved him but I bet he didn’t return the emotion, not anymore anyway. He would have seen her as no more than a housekeeper, someone to clean and cook his meals. What was in front of me was his true love.

I stood up, being careful not to bang my head on the rafters and leaned closer to get a better look at Laurence’s work of art. He had converted his loft into a kid’s wet dream. A vast railway layout, complete with town, goods yard and park dominated the loft. The rumour that checkout girl had spread had turned out to be true after all. I daren’t think about how much time, effort, and money he must have put into this masterpiece. I was seriously impressed; his eye for detail was astonishing. I almost forgot that a serial killing demon was standing behind me and ran my hand over the rails and pretend grass and picked up the little cars and trucks. I could have stayed where I was for hours, and I might have done if he hadn’t grabbed the back of my collar and pulled me away.

“If you ask him nicely, he might let you have a go.”

I hadn’t even noticed he was up there. Laurence was sat on a bar stool on the other side of his railway layout. He was holding a model locomotive in one hand and a paint brush in his other.

“Laurence?”

He didn’t answer. I didn’t think he was able to. Laurence had the appearance of a statue. It was just like the last time in Stig’s house. I looked at my hand and wished I still had my bracelet. I also wished I knew what the demon was talking about when he said I had been contaminated. Could he have been referring to that mutated canal slug that I sicked up? Everybody seemed to know more about what was happening to me than I did.

“I bet you’ve never seen him so quiet.”

The demon strode past me and walked towards a bookcase full of locomotives and carriages. He punched through the glass and took one out at random.

“Do you know what this is, Adrian?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, a train?”

The demon nodded.

“Very good, but it’s more than that.” He carefully placed the crimson locomotive on the track. “This is the model of an LMS coronation class, ‘The City of Bristol’” He connected the tender and ran it a couple of inches down the track.

“Or should I say, it is now. It started out as a different locomotive. Using skills that a professional forger would be jealous of, he converted the model in less than three weeks.”

He looked up, was he expecting me to be impressed?

“He was going to put this on an online auction and he was confident in getting nearly three hundred quid for it.”

“So?”

“Your boss is a little liar, Adrian. He’s a cheat, a fraud and a thief. His whole house is full of items he stole from work. Laurence is responsible for the dismissal of three stock workers to cover his tracks, including Andrew.”

He swept the model onto the floor. “If Andrew hadn’t gone, there’s a good chance that you wouldn’t have met me. How does that make you feel?”

To be honest, I didn’t really feel anything. Thanks to his constant mental and physical torture, my emotions had been washed out.

Something was tugging at my trousers. I thought I had caught it on a nail. I looked down and saw Jane hiding under the trestle table.

“Please don’t give me away,” she whispered. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”

I looked up when he approached the layout.

“What are you doing over there?”

I opened my hand and showed him the model truck that I had picked up earlier. “I found it on the floor,” I lied. “I was going to put it on the road.”

Suspicion was written all over his face. He wasn’t buying it. “What are you hiding? Don’t make me come over there, Adrian.”

I looked down. Jane was pleading with her eyes. I almost smiled. Of all the people, I may be able to save, it had to be her didn’t it? I sniffed.

“I was going to put it in my pocket.”

He sniggered. “Stealing is a sin. You can go to hell for that.”

The demon bought my lie.  He wasn’t so infallible after all. Along with the surprising appearance of Jane, my tiny flame of hope had been re-ignited.

The demon clicked his fingers. I half expected to be frozen again. The loft lid behind me slammed down.

“I don’t want you to get any silly ideas, young man. Now, I want you to be a good boy and stay where you are while I prepare your boss for our new game.” The demon’s eyes changed from red to deep blue. The colour reminded me of Hilda’s eyes; she was another one who knew more than she had let on. The demon wasn’t moving. He was as frozen as Laurence. Now I saw why he had shut the lid: he had cut off my only chance of escape. It also told me that I still had to be careful what I said and did. If he had thought that he had truly broken me then he wouldn’t have bothered shutting it.

Jane peered out, saw that the demon wasn’t moving and crawled over to him. I watched her strange behaviour with interest. She was showing no signs of being scared of him, which gave me fresh incentive to find a way out of there. I inspected the hatch but there was no way that was going to provide an exit. I wasn’t about to give up so easily. Laurence had secured MDF boards over the beams to provide a level floor. If I could get a board up then all I had to do was push my feet through the thin plaster and drop onto the second floor. He must have a toolbox around here somewhere.

I turned around, fearful that the demon might have snapped out of it and was about to punish me for trying to escape. He was still in the same place but Jane wasn’t. She had taken it upon herself to strip her filthy rags off her sinewy, grey body and was now rubbing herself against him and licking his face. It sounded erotic but I found it distasteful, weird and sick.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She stopped in mid lap and looked away. She was like a naughty schoolgirl who had just been caught with her hand in the biscuit barrel. For a moment it looked like her skin had gotten pinker. It must have been a trick of the light. The multiple light bulbs hanging from the rafters didn’t provide a brilliant light.

“I’m bleeding him,” she replied. “Sapping the energy he’s generating. I’m trying to buy you some time.”

Jane didn’t wait for me to reply to her damn strange answer, she carried on licking his face. I had no idea what the ghoulish freak was talking about so I continued my search for a screwdriver. It would have been easier to ask Laurence. From past experience, I knew that he always had a place for everything.

“Please hurry up!” she cried. The pain showing in her voice startled the hell out of me. The toolbox quest was temporarily forgotten.

“He’s started and I can’t stop it.”

I still didn’t understand what she was trying to say to me until I saw what was happening to Laurence. He was suspended above the railway layout and had shrunk to half his size and it seemed that he was getting smaller.

“You’re running out of time,” she gasped. “You need to do it now.”

“Do what?” I asked. Oh, this was getting insufferable. Why couldn’t she just tell me in plain English? She was lying at the demon’s feet, shivering and letting out the occasional moan. This wasn’t the Jane I knew, she had been transformed into a beautiful teenage girl.

She was still naked.

It was like the ugly duckling turning into the swan story; and what a swan she was. Jane was fucking stunning.

“I can’t take anymore of his energy,” she said. “If I do, I’ll burst.”

I wanted her to move her arms and uncover a little more of her chest.

“If you don’t throw your bracelet at it now, we will all die.”

Sneaking a peak at her assets didn’t seem like the most important thing in the world anymore. I wasn’t going to be able to perform that trick again now my beloved piece of jewellery was gone.

Jane was showing me her pleading eyes while her hair fell out, her flesh tightened and shrunk onto her bones and the skin colour returned to her dull leaden grey. Her degeneration distracted me from remembering something important about the bracelet.

“It’s too late,” she said

Jane picked up her clothes and scampered back to her hiding place.

“The bracelet is gone,” I said. “It just dissolved when he touched it.”

She tugged at my leg. “It was just a token. It didn’t mean anything.”

She grabbed my hand and pressed it against her withered breast. Why couldn’t she have done that when she looked normal?

“The real power is inside you. He would be powerless if he was unable to tap the energy out of you.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“The bracelet gave you focus, Adrian. You believed in it. Find what else you believe in.”

I still didn’t understand what the fuck she was talking about. There was nothing special about me. I was just an ordinary kid.

“Stop talking in riddles.”

She licked my hand. “Did you love me when I was beautiful?”

Jane faded away like smoke. The only proof that she was there at all was a small fragment of her rotting clothing, clinging to one of the trestle table legs.

“It’s not a trick, Adrian.”

The demon’s voice startled the hell out of me. It had come out of its trance or whatever it had been doing. I had lost my chance to escape; if I had ignored the ramblings of that silly bitch and concentrated on looking for a toolbox, I could have been out of here by now.

“If you haven’t been paying attention, you little bastard, your earlier itching will seem like a friendly tickle.”

“I was paying attention,” I replied. “And what you have done is amazing.”

My response seemed to pacify him, but I still wasn’t sure what he was talking about. My eyes drifted towards the empty space where Laurence had been and mentally kicked myself for being so fucking stupid. The demon picked up a tiny figure that was lying next to a police station in the model town and dropped the figure into the palm of his hand. I assumed that it was lying down because the base had snapped off. He urged me to take a closer look. It was a model of Laurence in exact detail; he even had a tiny train in his hand.

“This isn’t an illusion,” he said. “He truly is this small and he is still alive.”

The model blinked.

“He is nearly immobile but he can still see us, hear us, and feel pain.”

I tried to imagine what he must have been thinking. Knowing Laurence; his brain would shut down rather than try to understand what he was seeing.

“Have you any idea how much energy it took to do this?”

He placed the figure back on the layout and spread his body across the tracks.

“I get more powerful the longer I’m here. The other one may think he has the upper hand but he hasn’t seen anything yet.”

I took one step back from the mumbling demon and tried to think of another way out of there. Jane’s last words kept going over in my mind; I couldn’t make any sense of them, which annoyed me because I thought I should. Then again, her actions made no sense. The last time we had met at the party, she had tried to get into my pants before deciding to eat me.

Maybe she had no choice; she was compelled to help me because I saved her life at the party. I don’t know where that thought came from but somehow it felt right. I could almost hear the ghoul saying it herself.

“Here, catch,” the demon said. “You’ll need this.”

A red plastic object sailed through the air and landed in my outstretched hands. It looked like a child’s plastic ray gun.

“I’m sorry, Adrian. I forgot that you were deprived of toys as a child. You won’t have a clue what you’re holding, will you?”

He danced around the layout, flicking switches and pressing buttons. Laurence’s model came to life. The little streetlights came on; so did the lights in some of the shops and houses. The passenger trains entered the stations, stopped, then set off again. Even the signals next to the tracks went up and down. It was a marvel to watch.

“You are holding a remote controller that is used to operate model cars on a slot car racing track. Laurence adapted it to run a single locomotive.”

He picked this big, black train from out of the smashed display case, placed it on the rails and moved it back and forwards a couple of inches. I’m sure that hadn’t been in the case before. I would have noticed an ugly fucker like that. It was twice the size of any of the others, black as pitch with spines running along the top of it; the train almost looked alive.

“You have the privilege of controlling that one for its maiden journey. It’s eager to eat up the tracks and anything else that might be on it.”

I wasn’t a fucking idiot. Laurence’s little body was in the path of that unnatural looking train and the demon wanted me to cut him into three pieces.

“Just one tiny squeeze on that trigger is all that it will take, Adrian.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to murder my supervisor.

“Come on, man. Do you want the train to be late? It’s only Laurence. Nobody will miss him.”

The controller was stuck to my hand.

“Do you remember the pleasure you felt when the policeman died? When Laurence goes, the pleasure will be a hundred times greater. He hated you, Adrian. You have no idea what it feels like to bathe in the energy of someone who detests you. It’s my gift. Don’t refuse my gift, Adrian.”

“I’m not a killer!” I shouted.

He smiled and nodded. “Oh yes you are, Adrian. It’s in your blood and mine. Now press that fucking trigger!”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, Adrian.” All the fury and anger had gone. “You see, I was going to end it here and now.  If you had put him out of his misery then I would have left you and allowed you to live out your life.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe, young man. I can’t use you for what I originally intended because that other fucker has spoiled you, but I could have at least helped you on the way to becoming an ally.”

He took the controller out of my hand and placed it on the layout. The ugly black train was no longer there, in its place was a little blue train that looked about as evil as Thomas the Tank Engine.

“If you have made your choice then I won’t make you change it. If you’re happy to see your remaining friends and mother be ripped apart, then that’s fine by me.”

“What?!”

He picked up the controller and pressed it to the back of his hand. It changed to match his skin tone then liquefied and flowed into his body.

“I spent a lot of energy in reducing your boss. That energy needs to be replenished.”

I clenched and unclenched my fist, thinking how easy it would be to squash Laurence like a fly. I wouldn’t need a stupid toy train to do it. If the energy release were indeed stronger than last time then surely wouldn’t it make me strong enough to put an end to the demon once and for all? I took one step away from the table and forced my hand down. If I started thinking like that then it wouldn’t be long before I ended up like him.

“I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind. Remember lad, once your mother is dead, there is only Donna left.”

“You leave her the fuck alone,” I growled.

“So, you do possess a backbone?” he replied. “And what are you going to do if I hurt her, my defiant little child?”

Despite the cockiness and arrogance in his voice, there was something else, something I had never heard from him before; and I think it was unease. He’d made a mistake. He was so sure that I was going to murder Laurence and now he’d overtaxed himself. He was weak. The demon jerked towards me, his ruby eyes locking onto mine.

“So you think I’m weak, do you?”

My spine was engulfed in unendurable anguish; it felt like he was trying to fold me in two.

“Not bad for a feeble demon, is it, you dirty little Judas?” he snarled. “I warned you that your punishment would get worse if you attempted to defy me again.”

The bastard had read my mind.

“A deaf man could have heard that thought,” he said.

I gritted my teeth against the agony and emptied my mind.

“I wouldn’t hurt a single hair on the pretty little head of my beautiful Donna. She is mine now so you might as well forget about her. It won’t take her long to forget about you, a single night in my bed will do that.”

The ragged piece of material belonging to Jane’s clothing was still stuck on the table leg. I stared at it, trying to focus on each individual fibre so I could block out his taunting.

“It won’t be long before she sees you for what you are. You’re a shambling wreck of a man who can’t keep hold of a beautiful woman for more than five minutes.”

I was beginning to find ways to divert and suppress the pain. As long as I could keep my attention focused on the fabric and ignore the jibes, I could flush most of the pain from my body and send it back to where it came from.

“She wouldn’t look at the side of the road you were on,” I said.

The pain had almost gone but I was reluctant to take my eyes off the fabric. I sure as fuck didn’t want to be immobilised, feeling like my spine was being pulled out.

“You don’t even know where she is.” He was having trouble speaking. “He’s going to kill her, you little shit.”

I looked up then. I couldn’t help it. The fucker was crying.

“You have no idea what you’ve done. He’ll drain her and when he’s emptied Donna, he’ll come after me.”

He was supporting himself against the railway layout. He arched his back and screamed. It was like music to my ears.

“You’ve made the worst mistake of your life,” he gasped. “I’ll make sure I get you before he comes after me.”

I clenched and unclenched my hand again.

“You both could have been at my side.”

A full week of tears, frustration and misery went into my swing. I hit the bastard between the eyes and he exploded like an old wasp’s nest, his remains floating down and settling on the floor like a bag of spilt flour.

The truck I had shown to the demon earlier had rolled under the table. I reached down and put it in my pocket. I was having that as a souvenir, a reminder to prove that the bastard wasn’t so invincible after all.

“Don’t start prancing about like a proud tom cat, Adrian. All you’ve done is hurt and humiliate him. If you don’t finish him off as soon as possible then he’ll come back and crush you like a bug.”

I noticed that grey Jane had decided to come back only after I’d fucked the demon off. Still, she did have a point.

“Hi Jane.” I smiled and waved. “He’s buggered off. Thanks for your help, for what it was worth.”

“I was only allowed to point you in the right direction,” she replied.

“Bollocks, you could have done more.” I said. I turned my back on her, fiddled with the toy truck in my pocket and walked towards the loft hatch that was now wide open.

“You may not have understood what I was trying to say. In fact you still don’t, but your subconscious did, after it managed to drill through your thick skull. If it hadn’t been for me, you would now be watching yet another one of your friends dying.”

I cringed when she touched my shoulders.

“It’s not my fault that you’re stupid.”

I squirmed away from her slimy caressing fingers and moved closer to the hatch.

“I’m not stupid,” I said,

“Prove me wrong then, Mr. Clever Clogs. What are you going to do once you leave here? Do you have any idea? Or are you just going to fumble around town and wait for the demon to regain his strength and come after you?”

The bitch had another point. I didn’t know what I was going to do, not now.

“I did have a plan,” I said. “But that went out of the window once the demon explained a few home truths to me.”

She laughed aloud. “And you believed him? You are stupider than I thought.”

No, she was right. At the time, I didn’t believe him. What the fuck was wrong with me? That meant he was still waiting for me. Oh, for fucks sake! I ran to the hatch and got onto the ladder.

“Wait!” she cried. “I could show you where it is buried.”

I climbed back into the loft and approached her.

“You could have the demon dispatched in under an hour and all your troubles will be over.”

“Please, for crying out loud! Show me where it is.”

She nodded. “Of course you will have to do something for me first.”

I didn’t like where this was going. She played with her nipples and rubbed the inside of her thighs with her other hand.

“Make love to me, Adrian.”

I watched this abomination trying to get herself off while trying to give me those come to bed eyes. How could I explain to her that she just wasn’t my type?

“Are you sure I couldn’t do anything else? I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m not really in the mood, what with all that’s been going on today.”

I glanced over at tiny Laurence.

“Plus we’ve got an audience”

She pulled a face.

“You were in the mood when I was full of the demon’s energy. You lusted after me then, I could see it in your face.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t look like a dried frog then.”

Oh God, I hadn’t meant to say it like that, so much for being subtle.

“You’ve turned down a few moments of pleasure that would have saved your friends’ lives.”

She wrapped herself up and grabbed my arm. I remembered how strong the ghoul was from last time so I didn’t put up a struggle.

“You’re young, stupid and vain, just like I was and look where that got me.”

She picked up Laurence, bit him in half as if he was a jelly baby, and swallowed both pieces.

“We’re now even. You saved my life so in return I had to save yours.” She rested her hand on my genitals.

“I’m going to get my few moments of pleasure whether you like it or not. After that, I’ll have to decide whether to eat your eyeballs first or your tongue.”

“Wait a minute!” I cried. “You make it sound like a business arrangement or a contract or something.”

“It is,” she whispered. She was unzipping my fly.

“You saved my life, so under the rules of this realm I was compelled to save yours. Now stop talking and close your eyes.”

Her hand was inside my pants and despite my trepidation and repellence she was turning me on.

“Look, what about your friend? I saved his life too. Doesn’t that count?”

Her hand withdrew, leaving me standing to attention. I re-arranged myself and watched the ghoul retreat into a corner. She was sobbing.

“Show me where the demon is buried.”

“They’re dead. I’m the last one. He slaughtered the other out of frustration.” She wiped her eyes.

“I wanted you to fail, Adrian. I wanted you join me.”

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. The thought of being raped night after night by a skeleton monster for all eternity filled me with dread more terrible than watching my family and friends die.

“Tell me where the demon is buried,” I repeated.

Jane shook her head. “It’s not fair,” she said. “You’re not supposed to know the rules of this realm.”

She grabbed my arm but this time it was gentler.

“Promise me that you’ll never forget me.”

I considered that to be an easy promise to keep. I wasn’t likely to forget her in a hurry. I nodded and stroked her sunken cheek. It seemed the right thing to do.

“I promise,” I replied.

She positioned me to the edge of the railway layout and pointed to somewhere in the middle of it.

“He’s buried there.”

That was the last thing I expected her to say.

“You mean he’s buried in this loft?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t be an idiot. Take a closer look, Adrian, can’t you see anything familiar?”

I did as I asked and couldn’t see anything familiar; it was just a model town.

She slapped me on the back of my head.

“Good lord! You’re as dumb as a horse. It’s this town. The bald man built a model of Leechester.”

Now I could see it. I recognized the town hall, the canal bridge; I could even see Hilda’s shop. It must have taken him ages. He even built our work place and glued a pale blue car into his parking spot.

“Now look at where I’m pointing.”

I expected to see a graveyard, complete with dozens of tiny stones, each one crafted in dead Laurence’s immaculate style, so I was a little unimpressed when she showed me a bunch of trees that looked like they had been made from a green bath sponge. I leaned back and tried to gage where it was.

It hit me like a fucking mallet. This was the spare ground where I had cut through the same morning before the big pile of shit fell on my head later on at work; it was the patch of ground that scared the hell out of me for no apparent reason. I pulled out one of the sponge trees so I could get a better look. Laurence had even put a model shopping trolley under the trees. The level of detail was a bit too realistic for my liking.

“Do you know where this is?”

I nodded. “Oh yes,” I said. “I’ve been there.”

“I know,” she said. “I took the location out of your mind when I first met you. Having you witness the birth is part of the condition.”

“Did you witness the birth of yours?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “Thanks for your help.” I climbed halfway down the ladder and stopped. “Perhaps I’ll see you again.”

“It will be a mistake if you do. The last thing you will see is me plucking your eyeballs out with my fingers.”

I jumped off the ladder, charged to the end of the hall, and took the stairs two at a time. I stopped to catch my breath and glanced back up the steps. She wasn’t there, nor did I expect her to be. If she had intended to kill me, she would have done it in the loft.

The front door was unlocked. I peered through the hall window and saw Laurence’s crappy blue car parked outside. His car keys were in a wooden bowl on the coffee table beside me. For the first time in my life, I wished I had carried on with the driving lessons. My father paid for five free lessons for my seventeenth birthday. I still didn’t know where I was. I knew that I was in my supervisor’s house but I didn’t have a clue where he lived. I opened the front door and looked up and down the quiet street. I didn’t recognize any of it. I could be in the middle of a Leeds suburb for all I knew. I shut the door with me still inside and sat on the bottom step. I tried to work out what to do now. My options were pretty limited and they ranged from just getting out of this fucking house and running until I fell over, to turning the place over until I found a letter displaying the address. I even considered ringing my mum. I chose to raid the fridge instead.

The old woman was still there, wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy. I skirted past the corpse and opened the fridge door.

That CD player looked familiar. It was just like the model that Andrew was supposed to have lifted from the store. I shook my head and tutted.

I selected some cold meat and a scotch egg and placed it on the table and looked back to see what else I could find.

“Don’t you ever stop eating, Ade?”

I dropped the bottle of milk I‘d just found. The plastic bottle hit the tiles and the contents flowed out, soaking my jeans. I dared not turn around.

“You don’t seem too pleased to see me.”

I knew that voice. Well, not the voice itself — that belonged to the old lady – but the tone and accent sounded very familiar.

“Give me a bit of that scotch egg, Aidy. I’m fucking starving.”

I turned around then. No slavering monster would ask for permission to have a bite of my scotch egg. There was nobody else there, just me and the corpse. She was still in the same position with the tape fastened over her mouth. I grabbed a tea towel and blotted away most of the milk from my jeans. I picked up a fork from the draining board and took two silent steps towards the dead woman with my arm outstretched. One thing I had learned was that not everything was as it seems. I prodded her cheek with the prongs and jumped back.

There was no response from the lady. What a waste of time, I felt so stupid. The woman was well and truly dead. I threw the fork in the sink and picked up the scotch egg. I must have been hearing things. I took a bite out of the scotch egg and walked towards the kitchen window. The kitchen was on the opposite side of the house so I might be able to see something I recognized.

As I walked past the corpse, her eyes jerked open and the tape that was supposedly stuck over her mouth fell down and landed on her knees.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she said.

The sneaky bitch had been holding the inside on the tape in between her teeth. I should have prodded her a lot bloody harder. She launched herself out of that chair and onto me. I wasn’t quick enough to move out of the way. I thought she was still taped to the chair. We both fell onto the floor with her on top of me. A dozen scenes from various zombie movies ran through my head as she bore down on me. I should have kept hold of the fork. I tried to push her head away but it was no good; she was just too heavy. She slapped my hand off her neck, bared her teeth, lunged towards my mouth, and kissed me. Her cold tongue forced its way through my clenched teeth. It was like having an icicle in my mouth. She smelled of Murray Mints, foist, and gone off bacon. The woman let me go and I sat up.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since our Kevin brought you home.”

“Dave?”

She nodded. “Yup. As you can see, I’ve changed sex and aged a hundred years but it’s still me inside. Thanks to you, the demon has fucked off to the planet Zerg so I was able to get away from his grasp. To be honest there isn’t much left of me now, anyway, just vapours really.”

“Is that really you?”

She wiped her mouth and looked at the back of her hand.

“I’ve got lipstick on.” She giggled. “So have you now. I’ve lusted after you for two years, Adrian, and now I’ve got you all to myself.”

I struggled like crazy. “Get the fuck off me, you crazy bitch.”

“Relax, Adie, I ain’t here to hurt you, man.”

She climbed off me, reached over and picked up the scotch egg that had rolled away and sat down in the nearest chair.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, mate, but I couldn’t turn a chance down like that. Don’t look at me like that, Adie. The gay disease isn’t catching, you know? Besides, this body is female so your machismo is still intact if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Of all the things to worry about, I think that was the least of it.

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on. I saw the demon kill you.”

“You saw the demon kill all of us. It’s part of the condition.”

She took a bite of the scotch egg, chewed, and then spat it out.

“This body can’t swallow anymore. How shit is that!”

“Alright,” I announced. ”I’ve had enough.” I stood up and walked to the kitchen door. I wasn’t going to listen to anymore of this weird Alice in Wonderland bullshit. My brain was ready to shut down. I needed to get drunk and then sleep. She threw the scotch egg at me. It hit me just above the ear and it fucking hurt.

“Sit the fuck down, you spanner. I’m here to help you, for crying out loud.”

I stopped by the door, picked a piece of sausage meat out of my hair, and ate it. She (or was it he?) was going to have to do far better than that to persuade me to move.

“This isn’t the time to go all moody on me. If you sit down and promise to listen to me, you could be back in the carpark in ten minutes. Don’t look at the clock; it’s the right time.” She/he giggled. “Listen to me; it’s not even a fucking clock. Come on, Adie. Please?”

I relented and did as he asked.

“Tell you what, you were about to have a peek out of the window before I grabbed you. Why don’t you look now? You’ll be shocked to see somewhere that you used to regard as your second home.”

I doubted it, my poor spirit had been shocked into submission ages ago, and I doubted that another one would make much difference.

The unlit neon light of Steve’s takeaway greeted my eyes when I gazed through the windows. I turned around to face the freak in the frock. He was trying to bite through some sliced meat’s clear plastic wrapper.

“What are you trying to tell me here? Laurence lived opposite our favourite takeaway. So what?”

I snatched the packet out of his mouth and threw it on the table.

“That demon really did a good job on your head last night. You really don’t remember, do you? I thought the sign would have helped as a reminder.”

I shook my head and stayed silent, and tried to believe that having a conversation with a dead person who was in fact possessed by the spirit of an old friend was a normal thing to do; compared to my other encounters, this one seemed benign, apart from having a scotch egg thrown at me.

“I promised that I would have you back in the car park in ten minutes and that is exactly what I’m going to do, Adie. The fact that I’ve only got ten minutes left is just a coincidence.”

Was that a joke? Was I supposed to laugh here?

“I need two promises out of you first, Adie. Promise me that you’ll listen to me no matter how weird it sounds.”

That one was easy. I’d forgotten what normal was anyway.

“And promise me that you will never stop loving Donna.”

I thought that was a little too personal to be honest. My love life had nothing to do with anyone else but I stayed silent and nodded. He leaned forward.

“Okay, here we go. Are you sure you don’t want to eat your corned beef first?”

“Just get on with it,” I snapped.

“Keep your knickers on, bossy britches. Look, I really want to help you out, you know? Okay, to cut to the chase, that demon has been giving you a bit of a hard time.”

“Well gee, aren’t you a real information centre.”

Dave wagged his finger at me. “You promised you wouldn’t interrupt, you naughty thing.”

I was grinning like an idiot. I couldn’t help myself. “You’ve gone all camp. You don’t half sound funny.”

“Yeah well, I can drop the tough guy image now I’m dead. Now please be quiet.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” I blew him a kiss. “I’ll shut up.”

“And you wonder why I never came out?” he muttered. “Okay, five minutes left so it’s the condensed version. If you open your gob again, I’m going. There are two demons fighting over you, not one. You can only remember the first one because he was feeding on you and getting ready to impregnate you with his baby. But the other one got there first after he’d done the nasty, and he tinkered inside your head so you’d forget him. With me so far?”

I felt like someone had walked over my grave.

“I apologise for the Scooby Doo-like dramatics but you’re too thick to work things out by yourself.”

“There are two of them? I can’t even sort one out. How am I going to deal with two?”

“Secrecy is his greatest strength; you see he’s physically and mentally weaker than the other one. But what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in trickery. We all saw what he did to you last night. He is a demon who has total control of his craft.”

“Who is we?”

“All of us, Adrian. All the poor souls who the first demon is feeding on. We are trapped within him and won’t be free until the fucker is well and truly dead. We have been watching you very closely, Adrian.”

His last comment made me go all funny, like being caught by your mother jerking off.

“Okay,” he said. “Time to go.”

“Wait!” I cried. “You haven’t told me anything useful yet.”

“Oh, I think I have.”

“Bullshit. How the fuck do I kill them?” I kneeled in front of him, begging.

“Please?”

He stroked my cheek. I didn’t move away.

“Do you know where we are?”

“Laurence’s kitchen.” I said. “Where else would we be?”

He shook his head.

“Laurence’s kitchen is a world away. There’s a little old lady tied to a chair with an impossible amount of tape. She’s dead; there’s a fly crawling around in her mouth. We, on the other hand are in a different reality. The locals call it the realm.”

I snapped my fingers. “Jane called it that.”

“This is the dimension of the dead, lost souls, and demons. No human alive has ever ventured in here, nor will they.”

He sat back, then stood up.

“Come on,” he said.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“Yes, there’s nothing more to say.”

Dave didn’t move. He just stared at me. “Oh come on, for fucks sake. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

I nodded.

“You’re a demon, Adrian. You may have human parents but you are as genetically different as a dog is to a lettuce.”

“Come on, that is stupid. I mean, I’d know wouldn’t I? I don’t have horns, the blood of a virgin does nothing for me, and I hate heavy metal.”

“And yet it’s true, Adrian. No human would have been able to take the shit you have had in the past few days and not end up in ruins. Oh sure, I know you’ve had your ups and downs, moments when you felt like ending your life, but in the end you just shrugged it off. Admit it, you just aren’t normal.”

“That’s the real reason why you were targeted, Adrian. Demons need to procreate just like any other life form. ”

This time he did move to the other side of the table.

“Come on,” he said. “It really is time to go.”

There was a man-shaped scorch mark on the tiles.

“Lie down there,” he ordered. “You are going back the same way you came in. I’m sure that you will have to come back into this realm, so you need to remember this: What you see here, the rooms in this house, is a bit like a diving bell. You have to create a replica of where you came from in order to survive here. If you walk out of the front door, you would get no more than five yards before you’d melt. You can visit here but you cannot travel through this place, understand? Now close your eyes, click your heels three times, and say there’s no place like home.”

“Fuck off,” I replied.

My eyelids fluttered open and brilliant sunshine almost blinded me. I automatically shielded my eyes with my hand and coated my nose and eyebrows in cold syrupy blood. My hand had fallen into the policeman’s chest and I hadn’t noticed. I wiped my hand on the back of my pants and used a ripped piece of fabric from the copper’s trouser leg to clean up my face. It was a little better, but it still stunk like a rancid beef joint. Give it an hour and half the dogs in Leechester would be sniffing after me, if I lived that long.

There were police streaming into the carpark from all directions. These guys meant business; not a friendly smile or high visibility jacket could be seen anywhere. Black body armour and automatic rifles were the order of the day.

Now what could I do? If I tried to run, I’d end up with a bullet in my back.

“If you so much as twitch, you little cunt, I’ll blow your brains out through the top of your head.”

Now I don’t claim to be an expert in police procedure, but I’m sure they were supposed to say ‘put your hands up’ first. There were two of them and they were both built like human Rottweilers. How I didn’t see those two fat clowns was beyond me. I guessed they must have been checking behind the shop. The one who had spoken to me so pleasantly had his rifle muzzle digging painfully in my ribs. He was staring at me like he had something to prove.

I always thought police officers were supposed to be neat, tidy and well turned out. This one looked like he had gone out for twenty pints, woken up on a park bench and shoehorned himself into a uniform three sizes too small for him. I turned away from ugly fuck’s mug and looked at the other one. He was smart, clean-shaven and his uniform fit in all the right places, but there was something about him that didn’t seem right. They both looked shifty.

“Okay, are you ready?” Smart Dressed said.

Ugly Fuck nodded.

“And for crying out loud, Geoff, stay in character.”

“Don’t worry about me; just get those other coppers to fuck off.”

These two were no more policeman than I was a ballerina. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing but at least no cuffs had been slapped on me. Smart Dressed strode towards the first group of police which had just entered the carpark. I couldn’t see anything else after that because this idiot used his body to block my view.

“Do you come here often?” I asked.

“Shut up.”

“So what station are you from?”

“One more word out of you and I’ll pull your tongue out.”

What was I today?  A magnet for all the freaks and psychos in town? If Dave was right and I was like Christian, then shouldn’t I be able to turn this guy’s head into mush, or turn invisible or something?

“You’ve got beautiful eyes.”

“Just because we are surrounded by the filth, it doesn’t mean that you can smart talk me into hitting you. Do you honestly think they’d come running to your aid if I accidentally twatted you in the gob?”

“Did your daddy play doctors and nurses with you when you were a kiddie?”

His face went a deep shade of crimson. He balled his fist and drew his arm back. The gorilla’s knuckle sandwich didn’t connect. His companion was holding onto his elbow.

“Can’t you fucking wait two minutes?”

“He wound me up.”

I gave them both a goofy smile.

“So are you going to let me go now?”

I took two steps back and pointed to the two bodies that the demon had stuffed behind the slab.

“I did that,” I said. “And the same will happen to you if you don’t fuck off back to where you came from.”

Ugly Fuck returned my grin. His teeth were greyer than the granite slab. I didn’t get it. He didn’t even give the two corpses a second glance. He saw them, I watched his eyes flicker from one body to another, he just didn’t care. He pushed the butt of his gun into his shoulder and aimed it at the bottom half of my body.

“From this distance, a single bullet will shatter the bones in your leg.”

“And  gunfire will bring every copper in the neighbourhood back. Stop fucking about and get him in the van.”

An old, beat up, white van indicated and pulled into the carpark.

“Should that not have POLICE written on the side?”

“We’re not the real police,” announced Smart Dressed.

His face displayed a mixture of glee and false concern when he dropped that humdinger in my lap. Was he dumb enough to think that I hadn’t worked it out? That raised another concern. If I was able to see through their crappy costume party outfits then why didn’t the real police?  Smart Dressed opened the back of the van and Ugly Fuck bundled me in.

“He doesn’t look so cocky now, does he, Alan?” Ugly Fuck gloated.

I knew that the other one had called him Geoff but I thought my name fitted his description better. The name Geoff conjured up the image of a mild-mannered accountant. Accountants aren’t known for using a cordless Black and Decker to ventilate someone’s head.

The one now known as Alan locked the doors, kicked the tools out of my reach and sat on the only available seat in the back. Dave had been keen to point out that, because of what I was, my tolerance to emotional and physical pain was higher than any human. The object that Alan pulled out of his pocket was about to test that. It was a mobile phone, the same model that those kids had. These fuckers were from Stig. It looked like he was going to get his snuff movie after all.

“The rules have changed, Adrian.” He stood up and removed the hessian sack he was sitting on and threw it at his companion.

He was going to lean forward any minute now. Lean forward, clasping his hands together and giving me an earnest look. These guys had seen way too many gangster movies.

“You have upset the delicate balance in our town, and our mutual friend…”

I tuned the clown out. I had no interest in what he said because it was irrelevant. These two guys were here to do two jobs: extract whatever information they thought I might possess and then kill me. I suspected that Ugly Fuck had been given that honour whilst Alan would be the camera operator. I needed to get out of there right now. I know I was stating the obvious but it helped, just like tuning out Alan’s annoying voice helped. In fact, I couldn’t even hear him anymore. The sack went over my head. I had limited vision, but through tiny holes in the weave, I could make out the outline of Alan, and he wasn’t moving. I could no longer sense Ugly Fuck breathing down my neck either. I held my breath to cut out the smell of engine oil seeping into the sack and listened for any noise. There was somebody else in there with me. I could hear breathing, but it wasn’t those two as this sounded lighter somehow. I punched out with my left fist and hit somebody’s trouser leg. The person, and I’m guessing it was Ugly Fuck, didn’t cry out or move.

Somebody started to clap.

“Well done, Adrian,” said a familiar voice. “You’ve done it - you have pulled yourself into the realm without any help.”

The voice belonged to Christian.

“Take the sack off your head mate - it makes you look like a scarecrow.”

I pulled it off and found a clean area to wipe the grease off my hands. Christian was on Alan’s knee. I don’t think Alan minded. Alan and his companion were as stiff as statues.

“Well done,” he said. “You made it through the night.”

“I don’t get this - he said you and him were the same.”

“And you believed what it said? It lies all the time, Adrian. Have you not worked that out yet?”

Christian shook my hand.

“Well, apart from you believing his lies, I’m still in shock. After all these years, I’ve finally found a worthy back-up.”

“What are you talking about,” I demanded. “A back-up for what?”

“You need two to kill a demon.”

Dave’s words rang through my head and I wondered who would be coming after me.

“Right, no sense in hanging around here, let’s go and kill it.”

“Hang on, I haven’t told you where it is yet.”

“You don’t need to, Adrian; the image of that abomination crawling out of my mouth was burnt into my memory twenty years ago.”

“If you knew where he was all that time, why the fuck did you wait until now?”

He pushed open the door and got out, leaving me alone with two frozen thugs.

He stuck his head back through the open door.

“How dumb are you? If I had gone against him with somebody with no experience then we both would be dead.”

“So my friends died for nothing. You could have ended this last night.”

Oh, this was fantastic. This was just fucking brilliant. I’d been put through the wringer because of that white haired bastard’s misplaced idea of ethical values.

“People die all the time, Adrian. The quicker you accept that fact, the better. The only thing you can do is to try and limit the body count.”

“You make it sound like war.”

“How many people have died so far? Five, maybe six? You have only had a couple of days of this. Imagine how many would be dead if I hadn’t shown up. Nobody helped me the first time, Adrian. Do you want me to list who died in my first week?”

I shook my head.

“It may seem a shitty thing to put you through, but believe me, it was a thousand times better than what I had to endure. Besides, I still helped you out last night - I mean nobody who you really love died, did they?”

He helped me climb out of the van.

“Did you really think that my bracelet ended up in your girlfriend’s back pocket by magic?”

My reply to this eye-opening statement didn’t even have a chance to leave my mouth as I gazed uncomprehendingly at him.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it? Many years have passed since I last saw the realm in its naked state.”

Only the van and a small section of tarmac were left. I dropped to the floor and put my head as close as I could to the floor and covered my head. I was in the middle of a collapsing bubble, being crushed down to the size of a single atom. Christian dropped down beside me, he was whispering into my ear. I had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. His reassuring voice and his arm draped across my back brought me back from wherever the hell I was going; and I suspected that hell was exactly where I was heading.

“I thought I had lost you then, mate.”

I rolled over on my back and stared at the black sky. I thought I was lost too; I had no idea why I felt I was being crushed.

“You got a version of the bends, Adrian. I’m sorry. I had no idea that it would do that to you. It just made me a little dizzy.”

Christian stood at the edge of the jagged tarmac, waving his hands about, saying how magnificent this place was. I too waved my hands in front of my face, marvelling at the semi-solid texture of the air. It was like pushing my way through candyfloss. It occurred to me that Christian wasn’t seeing the same thing as I was. I had the feeling that he thought this place was just a wild cauldron of uncontrollable energy that just happened to make you feel like you were King of the Universe.

He picked me off my feet; he was grinning like a wild man. “What a rush!” he said. “You’ll never see this again, mate, so enjoy it while you can.”

“What is it?”

“This is the result of your first panicked jump into the realm. The only thing that your mind could latch onto was the van and consequently that is all that you got.”

“Yes, I know that, but what is this stuff?” I tried to show him what I meant by waving my hand around and trying to catch the black strands but the stuff just dissolved when it touched my skin.

He shook his head, the grin was still there but it had faltered. “It’s just the realm,” he replied.

He had no idea where he was or what its purpose was. That frightened the shit out of me. How come he had no idea and yet I did, come to think of it how did I know? I didn’t have a clue earlier.

“Christian, did anything happen to you when you first got here by yourself?”

“Apart from getting a hard on? No.”

He climbed back into the van. “Are you coming?” he asked. “If you want us to get back, we’ll have to be in here.”

“Why?”

“If we jump from out there, we could end up anywhere. We need familiar surroundings, Adrian.”

He scurried to the back of the van and started looking for something under the tools. I walked to the edge of the tarmac and leaned out as far as I dared. The black strands were thicker there. I forced the air out of my body and filled my lungs with the black stuff. I knew the strands would be able to filter through my body and out of my pores, but I knew that I didn’t want that to happen. Being swamped by thousands of negative emotions would overload me. No, this way was much better. I wanted to pick and choose, separate the orgasmic from the suicidal, the grief from the delight. I exhaled and leaned further out, eager to find a denser clump of fibres. Something pulled me back, denying my prize. I fell back on something hard. My sensory-soaked head was unable to tell me who I was, where I was, or where all the noises were coming from.

I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t move. Something hit me hard, so hard that I almost blacked out. The shock helped me recover a little of my normal senses.

“Your name, what is your name? Tell me your fucking name!”

He grabbed my mouth and forced my jaw open. His tone changed from panic to alarm. I could feel something going down my throat. He turned my head to one side and I lost what was in my stomach.

“Adrian,” I said. “I’m called Adrian. Hit me again and I’ll knock you out.” I wiped my mouth and coughed. The floor beside me was covered in thick, black goop.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked.

He grabbed my shirt and shook me.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he had impregnated you?” Tears were streaming down his face. “It’s over. He’s done what he needed, now he’ll fuck off just like the last time.”

I spat the remaining stuff onto the floor. “How did you know that he’d got to me?”

“The passage of the demon pupae leaves a trail in your mouth and gut. That black stuff is attracted to it. The same happened to me.”

I reached down and drew my finger through the black vomit then tasted my finger. It tasted the same as the goop from the dead policeman. Christian saw me taste it. He shook his head and climbed back into the van.

“Christian? How long have you been visiting this place?”

“Twenty years off and on, why?”

“Have you ever seen anyone else?”

“I’ve seen the occasional shadow. Look, Adrian, it’s time we went. Get back in here and shut the door.”

I climbed in after him and held his arm.

“Listen, Christian, there are some things I really need to tell you. The demon didn’t implant anything inside me.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “I know what I saw.”

“Let me finish. He didn’t implant anything inside me because another one got there first.”

He nodded and laughed.

“Oh, yes, of course there was. How stupid of me not to think of that one.” He sneered and turned away.

Somehow, I thought that he would have shown at least a little sympathy to my plight. Hell, the cunt had put me through enough shit himself. I wasn’t asking for a shoulder to cry on here, but at least he could have believed me. Fuck him, his bubble could easily be burst.

“You have been coming here and yet you know fuck all about this place. How can that be? I mean are you telling me that in all those twenty years, not one ghoul has threatened to eat your eyeballs, or that no dead old woman has French kissed you? Good lord, man, what have you been doing? Keeping to the side streets and keeping your head down?”

Christian spun around and punched me in the cheek. The van reeled and I fell against Ugly Fuck’s legs. “You know I’m right, Christian. I can see it in your face. I’m telling you what you have suspected for a long time and do you want to know something else?”

He shook his head and clamped his hands against his ears. “Those people you allowed to die last night, your casualties of war? They’ll know what you did now, buddy. I bet they won’t class themselves as acceptable losses.” I stood over the cowering man. “You don’t even know what this place is. All these years you have been coming here and it never twigged, did it? It isn’t some convenient playground where you can play hide and seek. This is our final destination and all that black stuff out there is what we end up being. It’s the remains of the human dead.”

I picked up a small rusty screw,  wiped it in the black stuff , brought it back inside, and shoved it under his nose. He jerked back and smacked it away.

“That is what happens when we and our less savoury cousins come into contact with a raw human soul. We are both demons, Christian, whether we like it or not. We’re a bunch of dirty, parasitic monsters. The difference between us and them is we can control our urges.”

I put the hessian sack over Ugly Fuck’s head and tied it with some cord. Christian had stopped cowering and was sitting on Alan’s knee. He didn’t look very well.

“How long does it take for these fuckers to hatch?”

“About five years,” he mumbled back.

I kneeled before him and held both his shoulders.

“Listen to me, Christian. What I said was out of order and I’m truly fucking sorry. I can be a vindictive bastard and sometimes my mouth gets a life of its own. Please forgive me.”

He looked up and sighed. “We’ll need to secure this one as well.”

I nodded and passed him some more cord.

I let Christian get on with tying the thug up and kept my gob firmly shut. I couldn’t help but think that I was watching an expert at work here. He was so efficient, just where do you learn to do that? It made me realise that, apart from his name, I knew next to nothing about him.

“I never even considered that there might be two of them this time. You are right about everything else, though,” he said. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through but I didn’t know what else to do. Everything else I tried in the past failed and I got people killed.”

“I’m sorry, too, man.” I tried to grin but only succeeded in scowling. “I’ve not had the best week of my life.”

He gave the knots in the cord a couple of tugs. He seemed satisfied that they wouldn’t come undone. “Look, Adrian, there is something I need to tell you. You are not the first person I’ve discovered whose abilities are more acute than mine are. They, just like you, can see further into this realm than I ever could and if they had managed to survive, their talents would have equalled and surpassed even the most vicious demon.”

“What do you mean, if they had survived?”

“This talent, this aptitude that you have comes at a high price. Any demon worth its salt would just toss me aside and head straight for you. Your abilities will get passed down to the offspring. The thing that’s come out of your gob is going to be a fucking monster. It’ll make the one that we are going to kill seem like a kitten.”

Christian untied Alan’s belt and pulled his trousers down. A pistol fell out and landed in some sawdust.

“Keep it,” he said. “It might come in handy.”

He pulled off the trousers and measured them against his own.

“What are you doing?

“Well, I thought that if we stole their clothes we could perhaps get to our destination quicker - nobody is going to look twice at a pair of coppers.”

“You’re right there, but they will look twice when two blokes dressed in clothes that are ten sizes too big walk past them, especially when one has pure white hair halfway down his back.”

“It was just an idea. Are you ready to go, then?”

I rechecked the bonds on the two men, held the pistol against Alan’s temple. I saw Christian had picked up the assault rifle. I nodded.

Alan screaming into his grease-soaked gag signalled our return into the real world. I’d love to have known what went going through their minds right then; one second you’re in control, looking forward to a bit of torture, then the next second you’re trussed up like a chicken with a gun pointed in your face. I peered into the sack. Geoff’s mouth was moving and I think he was praying. I picked up Alan’s dropped phone and put it into my back pocket.

Alan was now rocking backwards and forwards. His violent actions were making the van shake. Christian tapped him on the back of the head with the butt of the gun.

“We should be making tracks,” he said. “The quicker we do this, the better.”

“Are you okay?” I asked. He looked very pale.

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just that I’ve been at this point before, the last time I confronted him. I barely escaped with my life.”

I noticed that he didn’t carry on and explain what happened to the poor bastard who must have been with him.

“I think we should stay here for a moment. I need to know what you have planned.”

“You don’t need to know anything, Adrian. Your job is a simple one. I can explain on the way.”

He was starting to wind me up again and treating me like a bloody child. “What the fuck is up with you?”

He looked like he had aged twenty years in as many seconds. “I’m scared, Adrian. I’m terrified that I’m going to fuck it up like last time. If we don’t go now, I’m going to lose my bottle.”

I opened the van doors.

“Come on, then.”

He grabbed the top of my shoulder and pulled me back in.

“Do you think this van drives itself?”

He left me in the van and got out. “I won’t be a minute,” he said. He took one step then turned back. “Swap guns. See if you can find a bit more cord.”

I took the assault rifle off him and dug the business end into Geoff’s ribs. I couldn’t see his reaction but it didn’t matter. It made me feel a little better and that particular emotion was in short supply at the moment. I know that killing his own demon was the only thing on his mind but it wasn’t all that I was thinking of.

I heard the driver’s door opening and somebody being dragged out. He was dragging him to the rear of the van, and I left the man and rushed to the doors. I spotted the end of a bungee rope stuck out from beneath a blanket. It should suit the task that Christian had planned. I climbed out of the van and handed the rope over to him. He had a young lad in a headlock; he didn’t look old enough to drive.

“Keep your weapon pointed at those two,” he said. “We don’t want them to get any ideas.”

He shoved the tied up boy into the back of the van. He was taking a huge risk here. It wouldn’t take them long to free themselves.

“Shouldn’t we shoot them first?” I said. “We don’t want them coming after us. At least we could knock them out.”

He banged the palm of his hand into his forehead. ”What a good idea. I wish I had thought of it. Let’s riddle them with bullets.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. I meant shooting them in the foot.”

He looked at me like I had gone mental.

“Have you any idea what a weapon of that calibre would do to a body at close range?”

I did actually; it was only an hour ago since Ugly Fuck had explained in detail what would happen. I felt like such a tit. I apologised and moved out of the way so he could shut the doors.

I gazed out, past the white van and beyond the works carpark. There was nobody about. This place had been a hive of activity just a few moments ago and now there was nobody. I watched Christian tying the van doors together with one of his shoelaces. The van was still moving from side to side so we were still on Earth.

“Why is it so quiet?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Quiet is good, Adrian.”

It was almost too quiet. I don’t know why I’d bothered raising my concern with him. He was too preoccupied with not getting me killed when we faced his demon. As far as he was concerned, he was on the final leg of his great journey.

He shook my shoulder. “It’s time to go.”

He ran across the carpark and out onto the road. I had a hard time keeping up with him. He stopped suddenly at the spot where I had thrown up. He turned and waited for me to catch up.

“Was it here?”

I nodded, I couldn’t speak, and I was knackered.

“You’re going to have to come back, Adrian. You know that, don’t you?”

“Can’t we just dig the fucking thing out now and shoot the fucker?”

He gave me the most withering look.

“You really need to think before you open your gob, Adrian. The demon will be halfway across the realm by now. Do you think you have the stamina to swim through that black muck for all eternity in the vain hope of finding it? Come on, let’s get this finished.”

Christian ran on. Where on earth did the man get the energy to keep running?

“Wait!” I cried. “Hang on for fuck’s sake.”

He stopped again.

“It won’t be finished, will it? What about Donna? What about the other demon?”

He pulled back and looked at me.

“You are the strongest I have ever met, Adrian, and I’m sure that there are others out there who will be stronger than you. When we are finished here, me and you are going to go out into the world and track them down, okay.”

“Yes,” I murmured.

“But we really do need to leave Leechester. I’m sorry, Adrian, but you need to accept the fact that you will have to leave Donna.”

He had said his piece,

His male bonding session was over. Christian spun around and marched towards the shrubs.

“The only way to kill these things is to get them out of their bodies and banish their essence into the realm.”

He stepped into the clearing and held the branches up so I could join him.

“Without a body, they’ll eventually fade away.”

He’d got that wrong. Without a body, the denizens of the realm would dive on the demon and attack him like a horde of hungry piranhas devouring a carcass.

“I can draw him out and then I’ll send him to you. You are going to be the gateway, Adrian.”

“Me?” I said. “But I’ve only done it once.” He’d gone mad; the fucker was going to get me killed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s like riding a bike, do it once and you’ll never forget. You will be the gateway between the two worlds, as he passes through you, you will experience all his anger, pain and hate.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding.”

He shook his head.

“If you panic, he’ll take you into the realm, eat your soul and steal your body.”

I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. “Okay,” I said. “I’m ready.”

I looked around the clearing but could see nothing unusual.

“What are we supposed to be looking at?”

“Try stepping into the realm,” he suggested. “All you see here is what he wants you to see; he can’t hide himself on the other side.”

I did what he asked and he was right, it was like riding a bike, the area shimmered, the overpowering smell of cinnamon almost knocked me off my feet. I shook my head and looked at the mess before me. I was looking at the same thing that had climbed out of my mouth, only magnified many times. It was massive, the size of a cow. This one didn’t seem to be as lively as the other one, which was thankful. I had no desire to have that thing touch me. Bits of bone and scraps of flesh surrounded it and competed for space alongside ripped clothing, boots, shoes and even a pair of glasses. Christian touched my arm and frightened the shit out of me.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.” He nodded at the chrysalis. “Ugly fucker, isn’t it? Let’s get back and start.”

Normal reality resumed itself, the clearing reverted back to its innocent form, and yet, the realm image stayed superimposed like a double image photograph.

“Remember, I need you to keep your head and don’t under any circumstances enter the realm. Got that?”

I nodded. He looked up and closed his eyes. The man was deathly still. I put my hands in my pockets and listened to the bird song and the noise of the occasional passing car. He reminded me of an old gypsy going into a trance before a séance.

“It’s time.”

His voice made me jump.

“Brace yourself, son.”

The sudden onset of pain made me scream out; it was like being enveloped by a blanket of pins. Oh crap, this was worse than anything I had felt before; I dropped onto the leafy floor and shrieked for my mother. The last thing I saw before unconsciousness claimed me was two policemen rushing into the clearing.

I was sitting up in bed holding a bag of frozen peas. For the moment, I wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Hold it on your eye, Adrian, for goodness sake, how many times do I have to tell you?”

She took the bag out of my hand, placed it over my eye, and put my hand over the bag. My mother then put down a cup of tea onto my bedside cabinet and walked to my bedroom door.

“You make sure you drink this one. I’m not making you drinks all day so you can allow them to go cold. Teabags cost money, you know? I’ve already rung your uncle up and informed him that you aren’t going to work today, not with that eye. Oh and Donna says she’ll come by after she’s finished work. She’s a lovely girl, that one.”

I listened to her rattle on for another couple of minute before she finally fucked off. So, it was all just a big, stupid dream. No doubt, some cunt had spiked my drink last night, causing me to have such a vivid hallucination. Just to be sure, I looked under my bed and giggled when I saw that it was empty. What else had I expected? I reached over to grab my tea. My mobile was on the bedside table. I had one missed call from Donna. I had another giggle and sipped my tea.

The rustling of a bin-bag in my cupboard startled me. I almost dropped my tea, when a young woman whose arm was missing from the elbow down fell out of the cupboard and used her good arm to crawl towards my bed. I tried to get up and run out of the room but my body was numb from the neck down. She was standing at the end of my bed and swaying. Her arm looked like it had been bitten off. Oh, this wasn’t real. I was having a relapse.

“Mother!” I shouted. “Oh God, oh crap. Get the fuck out of my head!”

There was no response, no feet banging up the stairs. I was alone.

“I died because of you. My new husband is a widower and my son has no mum, all because I wanted a new fucking telly.”

She waved the mutilated arm about like it was a flag.

“You’re like me now, Adrian. You’re dead. Dead as dead can be. It’s Christian’s fault, he fucked it up again, just like he did last time. He couldn’t control the demon and the first thing it did when it became flesh was to tear you into bite-sized pieces.”

“Get the fuck away,” I whispered. “You’re not real.”

“You are wrong, I am real and this is no dream. You are dead, only your mind is refusing to accept it.”

She held up her mutilated arm, and her flesh, bones, and skin rebuilt. Her face altered to become Donna.

“It’s just like going to sleep, sweetheart, you are the last link. When you accept your fate all the souls the demon took will be released. You have an eternity in paradise waiting for you.”

She walked to the side of my bed and placed my hand on her breast. “You’ll have anything your heart desires.”

She leaned forward and kissed me.

“This is only a vision, once this ends your mind will go into overdrive, you’ll imagine that he is torturing and raping you over and over again. You’ll wish and pray for it to end but it never will. This is your only chance, my love.”

I had seen two policemen and Christian wasn’t confident about finishing the ceremony. Maybe she was right. She kissed me again and started to explain just what she was going to do with her tongue once I had accepted her words. I started to drift off while listening to her erotic words. Then a hand encircled my wrist. She jerked back and reverted into the stranger; the flesh fell off her arm. It was Dave.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep,” he said. “She’s telling you a crock of shit.”

He rolled out, ran around the foot of the bed and dived on the woman. They both hit the floor. He pinned her to the floor and bit out chunks of meat from her neck. She dissolved into a black slime and sank into the floor. He got up and sat on the end of the bed.

“She was just a crude facsimile and she really was talking out of her arse. You need to finish this, Adie. Banish the demon.”

“I don’t know what to do!” I cried.

“Easy, all you have to do is get out of the bed and open the door. Piece of piss.”

Laurence was at the foot of my bed. Where the hell did he come from?

“You stay where you are, young man. This idiot knows nothing.”

“Shut up,” I said. The demon hadn’t killed him, so how could he be here?

“You still have a chance to save Donna. Remember your promise to me?”

Some feeling was returning. I still had the cup held in my hand and the warmth of the cup was seeping through. I re-doubled my efforts.

Laurence screamed at me, so did Dave. I tuned them both out and lifted my legs up. The image of Laurence turned into the demon; the fucker had been trying to trick me yet again. I got out of the bed. Dave disappeared. I threw my cup at the demon.

“Fuck you.” I opened the door.

I found myself back in the clearing. Christian was covered in blood and lying next to two motionless coppers.

“Well done,” he whispered.

I kneeled beside him. I didn’t know what to do. Oh shitting hell, this was so unfair. He was dying, I took out the phone I had nicked and started to dial for an ambulance. He grabbed my arm and shook his head.

“Don’t bother. You need to get away, get out of the country for a while. This town will sort out the mess just like it’s done in the past.”

“I can’t go,” I said.

His grip tightened on my sleeve. “Yes, you can. You need to develop yourself. Come back when the time is right.”

“Bollocks to you, Christian. I ain’t going to leave you here.”

I picked him up and held him to my chest. If Dave was right then the Christian-thing was gone. The Steve-thing had done its business so I hoped it wouldn’t stick around. I didn’t want to leave Donna, but what fucking choice did I have? I may have saved the day, but that wouldn’t stop the media splashing my mug across the front page of the tabloids in the morning.

I listened to the police sirens get closer, then closed my eyes and faded into the next realm, promising that I’d come back.

I had work to finish.

Duplicity

By Ian Woodhead

Electronic Edition License Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

The book contains a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the product of the author’s creation. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental..

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Copyright Ian Woodhead, August 2012

Expanded Edition, November 2013

Chapter One

Her musical voice caressed his ears. He could tell that the pretty mid twenties girl must have repeated this speech countless times and yet, she still managed to inflect an enormous weight of enthusiasm into every syllable.  What he would do to see her again. He’d give anything, just to gaze at her long red hair, cascading down over that dark green blouse. She was getting close to the end of her recital now. There’d be another statement about how the famous deer red stalactites had formed in these caverns, before she escorted her group back to the entrance.

As her voice trailed off, Henry Collins doubted that he’d hear her speech a forth time. He’d already made up his mind. By the time she escorted tomorrow’s visitors through the caverns of Cullbeck, all that would remain of Henry would be a long stain of dried blood stuck to the edge of the chasm by his feet. The other things that were in here with him would ensure nothing else remained of his body. He wondered if his pursuers enjoyed the sound of her voice.

Had it really been two whole days since he first heard her voice, two days since he was stuck at the back of his own group bored out of his mind? Back then, the only thoughts flowing through Henry’s mind was if that sexy looking tour guide had a sexual preference for an older man in his early forties and how great that first beer would taste as soon as they get out of this dull as dishwater cavern.

Just how far in the cave system had he ran? Henry closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the rough stone, listening to her voice finally disappear. The acoustic qualities in these caverns allowed voices to travel for miles. It made sense that if he could hear her voice then she and the others in her new group would be able to hear if he screamed out. A single tear ran down his cheek, and he slammed his hand over his mouth, not daring to let one sound escape.

He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t make another noise, not after the last time. Henry sobbed behind his palm; all he wanted was to go home.  She had gone, The last human voice that he would ever hear had now left him. The guide only sounded like she was just around the next corner. It was so tempting to rush along this narrow ledge, just to see if they were there, getting ready to step into the expensive gift shop.

Henry allowed his eyes to flicker open. He removed his hand, wiping the saliva down the front of his shirt. He’d done it. Not one noise had escaped from his lips. He’d beaten them. The bastards thought he’d scream himself raw again, just like yesterday.

When he and his wife had heard that beautiful voice echoing through the tunnels, the first time, two days ago, they had both yelled and screamed themselves raw. He should have stayed silent. They both should have kept their fucking mouths firmly shut.

“I’m so sorry, Bernadette,” he whispered.

Not moments after the pair of them had wrapped their arms around each other, both trying to console each other, the ‘others’ had showed themselves. He had watched with utter terror as five humanoid creatures detached themselves from the cavern wall, behind where they sat. A luminescent green substance spotted their rough, sinewy bodies.

His wife’s eyes grew wide and she whimpered. As soon as she made that noise, the all turned as one and their huge lantern orange eyes locked onto Bernadette. His wife shook in his arms. She had been almost mute since they had taken the other tunnel and gotten themselves lost in this maze. Bernadette had resumed her screaming as soon as two of the things began to approach them.

Her harsh voice only resulted in them rushing up to them, wrapping their long, skeletal fingers into her short cropped blonde hair and ripping the woman out of Henry’s embrace.

One of them spun her around and pushed her head into its slender grey stomach, effectively muffling his wife. Henry leaped up and ran forward, only to have the rest of the humanoids grabbed him and slammed his body into the wall. He glared at the one, that had wrapped its freezing fingers around his throat. Those fingers were like steel claws. Henry didn’t doubt that this thing would be strong enough to squeeze the life out of him. Henry felt so helpless. He watched, imobilised as the one holding his wife released her and she flopped to the ground. Henry growled low in his throat, jumping as the creature holding him, imitated his sound.

He saw Bernadette’s chest move and he sighed and began to weep, wondering if it would have been better if they had just smothered her. He knew that neither of them were going to get out of this situation alive. Just looking at the creature’s rows of sharp teeth told him that much.

Henry’s weeping died in his throat when his captor applied pressure while copying his sound. It then kicked Henry’s feet out from under him. The back of Henry’s head smashed into the cavern floor.

His last image before a combination of stress, fatigue and concussion knocked him out was of the creatures dragging his screaming wife away. They pulled her into one of the large fissures covering the cave floor. The sick green glow coming from their skin faded away, leaving only blackness in its wake.

The tears cleaned a narrow path down his cheeks as the vivid memory of those things dragging his wife away returned. Henry had no idea how long he’d been out. He’d crawled towards the first fissure and howled in disbelief when he saw it had been plugged with stone. Henry had rushed with increasing desperation from one fissure to the next, only to discover they were all identical.

He took one step away from the cliff wall and towards the sheer drop a few inches from his feet. According to the dim readout from his phone, five hours had passed since he had reluctantly left those fissures. Five hours of frantic searching and he had failed to find any evidence of his darling wife, nor had Henry discovered a way out of here.

Henry stopped at the edge and leaned over the precipice. He dragged a small stone over with his scuffed shoe and kicked it over the edge.  It took an age before he heard it clatter on the floor. How deep was it? It could be a hundred feet or a mile deep, it didn’t really matter. The fall would do the job.

He had never considered himself a brave man but he was a realist and knew a futile situation when he saw one. Henry was going to die in these caves, just like Bernadette. If the hunger or thirst didn’t get him then those creatures certainly would. At least two of the things had been following him for the past hour, maybe longer. The occasional sound of a dislodged pebble scraping across the floor and a couple of flashes of green proved to Henry that he wasn’t wrong. Those evil bastards were following him like hyenas followed a wounded zebra. He didn’t know when they’d strike; perhaps they’d wait until he was delirious with hunger.

“You’re not going to feast on my bones,” he whispered. His heart ripped in two, knowing full well that had been his Bernadette’s fate. “I hope you all die of food poisoning.”  He was now ready; Henry could feel the rock crumbling under the weight of his toes.

“You can’t fool me!” he yelled. “I know that you’re all there.” Henry started a little when his voice echoed around the rock. He felt the tears flow again and cursed his own cowardice. Henry had been so terrified that these monstrous creatures would rip him to pieces if he made any noise. That tour guide might have heard his cries, it was possible, yet here he was, ready to jump to his death, where the logic in that?

A pair of long, grey arms peeled away from the rock face, a couple of metres from where he stood. Its skin texture matched the stone perfectly. The rest of the creature’s body followed and in the blink of an eye, the thing changed from resembling a weather-beaten statue to looking like a shadow. “What the fuck are you?” he uttered. Henry had walked right past it and not even known,

There was movement all around him as the whole cavern came alive as countless creatures followed the example of the one in front of Henry. They changed their skin tone and colour back to what it was before. Hundreds of them looked at Henry, as they clung to the walls and ceiling like spiders, several of them, closest to Henry, detached from the rock and dropped on to the ledge.

His heart thudded hard against his rubs, suddenly, he didn’t want to die. Two of the things in front of Henry lunged forward, only to be stopped by the one that had initially peeled off the wall in front of Henry. It pushed them back then turned and smiled at him.

Henry cried out at the sight of all those teeth. A collective low moan rippled through the assembled creatures. It snapped its jaws shut then stretched out both its arms, towards Henry. It un-clenched its hands and spread its fingers wide then turned both hands around.

The long pointed claws were gone, instead Henry saw fingers that looked so out of place on such an abomination. They were a woman’s hands now and each fingernail was painted in bright blue, his wife’s favourite colour.

“Henry, you didn’t bring in the washing, like I asked you to.”

He gaped, unable to speak as this disgusting thing leaned forward, it winked seductively then grinned. This time Henry saw two sets of white, human looking teeth.

“Henry, you didn’t bring in the washing, like I…”

He moaned and slammed his hands over both ears. The sudden momentum unbalanced him. His foot lost purchase and Henry slipped off the edge and fell into the blackness. His last sight was of his beautiful wife, leaping of the ledge and clinging to the wall, her large blue eyes watching as he plummeted to his death.

Chapter Two

Six months later…

Henry Collins heard the well worn apology tumble from his lips, he needed no prompt, such an action was automatic to him. He rolled onto his broad back and submitted at least once a day.

The crowds of frantic shoppers flowed around him, and he stepped back, eager to lose himself in the sea of people. Henry turned and allowed the flow to take him away from that possible confrontation. Deep down he knew that it hadn’t been his fault. As he hurried to get as far away as possible, Henry followed his usual routine of having a mental argument with that horrible woman. Was it his fault that she wasn’t looking where she was going? Was it his fault that she was too busy yapping away on her phone to see Henry walking towards her? In his mind, Henry came out victorious but it was a close run race.

He’d made the correct choice to step away and melt into the mass of people. After the traumatic event that Henry had just endured on the bus, he really could do without another confrontation. He spotted a gap on the crowded pavement and jumped into it. Henry stepped back again into a shop’s alcove and sighed heavily, promising himself that he would not start to shake.

That horrible woman, with her huge pram, had long since gone, there was no doubt in his mind that their near miss hadn’t even registered on her radar, he and his apology would be already be forgotten. He just wished that the next person that the dizzy blonde, with her Sherman tank sized pram mowed down some moronic meathead next, that would show her.

Henry folded his arms, scrunched his head down and held himself as tight as he could, not wanting to shake. He needed caffeine like a drowning man needed a life raft. “Maybe even a chocolate muffin,” he muttered. “I don’t want a pie though.” A large shudder shot down his back. “No way, I’ll never eat a pie again as long as I live.”

The morning’s confrontation with those girls now seeped out of the back of Henry’s mind and took up residence right at the front of his head. He shook his head like a cat trying to dislodge a flea then forced in a lungful of cold air. Did the big man upstairs get a huge kick out of tormenting him?

There was no way that he’d be able to go into work in this state. Henry wouldn’t last five minutes before having to make his excuses and running back out. He really was a nervous wreck. He jumped at the sound of a bolt sliding back. Henry turned and discovered that he’d taken shelter in the doorway of a café. He flicked his eyes towards the blue sky, wondering if the big man had decided to show a bit of compassion. If he had, it would be the first time in his miserable life.

A heavy-set man in his early sixties, opened the café door and, with a deft movement, flipped over the closed sign. The man towered over Henry. He looked more like a wrestler that a café owner. Henry licked his lips and decided that perhaps he fought in the ring on his days off. This morning he was a café owner, the towel folded over his huge bicep had to be Henry’s biggest clue, that and the blue and white striped apron.

“Good morning, young man,” said the part-time wrestler, smiling down at Henry. “It’s another beautiful morning.

If the café owner was aware that Henry looked as though he’d just seen a ghost, he made a good job of covering it up.

“Yes, it’s a beautiful morning, what better than to start off your day by having a pot of freshly brewed coffee?” The man winked. “Although, I must admit, I’ve never had customers lining up outside my door. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. If you’d like a take a seat, sir, I’ll be with you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Henry attempted to smile at the old man but gave up as he abruptly spun around and walked back into the dark shop. The place did look very inviting. He gazed at the dark wooden paneling covering every wall. Why had he not been in here before? The smell of that coffee made his mouth water. Henry took a seat by the window and removed his coat.

“It is coffee, sir? I’m so glad that you’re not one of those tea drinkers. Then again, I wouldn’t complain, you understand. I do have a couple of bags stashed away, for that particular emergency.”

Henry just nodded once, wondering if this man knew how to be quiet. He talked more than his Bernadette.

“Not a problem,” replied the man. I’ll just be a moment. Oh, and don’t you fret about the lights. I know the old place looks a bit murky. They’re all on a timer, you see. As soon as eight fifty nine meets its maker, my beautiful shop will be bathed in a golden hint of sunlight.” He smiled at Henry.

That perfect grin stayed fixed on the man’s face just long enough for Henry to squirm in his seat. He felt like a small fish looking up at a shark.

“How does Bolivian Dark sound, sir? It’s on special this week, you’ll love this blend, that much I promise you.”

He saw little point in answering that disembodied voice. Even if he wanted something different, like a simple cup of coffee, Henry doubted that he’d get it. That was one fellow who Henry had no wish to offend. He might look jolly on the outside, but who knew what lay beneath that happy exterior? He shuddered again, not too sure where that thought came from.

He still found it hard to believe that he’d never been in this café before. Their town wasn’t that large and Henry had live here all his life. When he got home tonight, he’d have to ask Bernadette if she’d been here before. That woman was the one who usually did the shopping. The man now had his back to him. Oh yes, his Bernadette would certainly remember this place. She had a bit of a thing of large men.

Oh yeah, if his wife was with him right now, she’d be fair foaming at the mouth at the sight of that man’s backside. Thankfully, she wasn’t. There were many times over last two decades of marriage that Henry had seriously wondered why that woman had married him in the first place, considering he was the total opposite of her ideal man. At forty two, Henry considered himself to be about the right size for a man of his slight frame. She always remarked that she’d seen more meat on a butcher’s pencil or that he looked like a coat hanger on a diet. One of these days, he’ll put his foot down and tell her to go find herself a larger man if she was that bothered about it. That wouldn’t happen tonight though.

After he’d asked Bernadette if she knew about this café, Henry would ask for a hug. He felt like today called for a bit of loving. Nothing else could go wrong for him today, could it?

Henry dared to stand up, cringing at the sound of his chair scraping along the polished wooden floor. The man was not behind his counter, he must have gone into the back room. Dare he sneak out of the shop whilst the man wasn’t in sight? All Henry wanted was a little anonymity, some quiet and a mug large enough to drown a piglet in. He didn’t believe that his requests were that extreme.

That man would not leave Henry alone, that much was obvious. He’d come out here, placing that very expensive coffee in front of him then sit opposite Henry and tell him all his woes, while Henry would have to nod and shake his head in all the right places. That coffee would probably taste like hot mud as well,

Like he had the guts to leave the shop. If he did, Henry would be plagued with visions of that frightening man, with shark-like teeth, chasing after him with a pot of undrinkable coffee in one hand and a pair of wrestler’s shorts in the other hand. He slumped back in his chair and gazed out of the window, watching the early morning shoppers and workers stream past.

Henry doubted that any of those people could feel as depressed as he did right now. His morning had begun in the usual innocent way, with no hints of impending calamity. If the day was going to throw huge dollops of dog shit at him, there was usually some sort of small sign, his wife turning over and accidently hitting him with her arm, or the coffee machine exploding. Even dropping his toast on the carpet could mean that fate was about to smack him upside the head.

Just like every other working day, Henry crawled out of his warm bed at six. After a cornflake breakfast, followed by two slices of toast, washed down with two cups of coffee, he was ready to face the world. As per usual, Bernadette demanded a cup of tea before he left the house and, as per usual, he complied.

The bus had been on time for once and to break with his routine Henry had climbed the stairs to find a seat on the top deck. In retrospect, he knew that it had been that decision that had completely upset his whole day. On most mornings, Henry enjoyed the journey into the town centre. The meandering route cut through three of the outlaying postcard picturesque villages, each one separated by fields and tame woodland. It wasn’t usual for the bus to stop until they reached the town centre.

Henry was on nodding terms with at least half the regular bus passengers, which wasn’t that surprising considering they had all been using the same route for the last eighteen years. He had flashed his pass to a driver he had seen before and climbed the stairs, pleased to see that he had the top deck to himself. With a bit of luck, it would stay like that for the rest of the twenty minute journey. It did feel odd to be the only person up here. He’d never done this before, always sitting either at the front or taking a window seat above the rear wheals. Henry liked his routine. Today though, He needed the solitude, some time to think.

His annual review was due this morning and Henry so needed to compose himself and to make sure that every word uttered in the meeting would be golden. The departmental pay assessments were due next month and a little birdy had told him that his own rise hinged on him making a good impression. This meeting had been playing on his mind for the past week. He detested speaking in front of that crowd of suited idiots. They all exceeded in making him look like something scraped off the bottom of their expensive designer shoes.

Henry gazed through the dirt-streaked glass, watching the trees and the dry-stone wall flow past. He was halfway through prioritising the decisions he’d taken that increased his departmental efficiency when the bus lurched to a halt.

His heart sank though the bottom of his rib cage and nestled into his guts when he watched a trio of teenage girls clamber on board the bus. That’s just what he needed, he sighed. It was a guarantee that they’d all troop up here, claim the rear seats and pollute his silence with either a torrent of frivolous yapping or by playing horrible music on their mobile phones.

Whatever. He had had no intention of letting a bunch of idiotic kids ruin his day. As soon as they got themselves settled, he’d go find a seat downstairs. The regulars would probably give him a curious look but anything was better than allowing those kids to bugger up his concentration.

He heard them laughing and giggling as they all climbed the stairs. It amazed him how anyone could have so much energy so early in the morning. Why did they have to be so bloody noisy? Henry was so glad that he and Bernadette had opted for the no-child option early on in their marriage.

Through the reflection, he saw the first girl reach the top of the stairs. She walked past Henry towards the back seats. Her other friends clambered to the top, laughing and giggling, Henry winced. They definitely had no concept of quiet. The middle one followed her friend to the back but the one at the rear stayed where she was. He watched the thickset girl, with wild strawberry blonde hair look directly at the back of his head, grinning.

He didn’t turn around, Henry had no idea who the girl was but he did know that she was about to cause him grief. She glanced back at her friends, waved then sat beside him. The toxic blend of perfume, hair spray and body lotion wafting off the girl and her clothes, stung his nose.

Henry stayed perfectly still; he didn’t even move his head. Past experience had shown him that ignoring them was the best solution out of these potentially confrontational situations. Kids these days had short attention spans; they soon became bored if they didn’t receive the attention they craved.

“Hello there, John. Can I call you that name? I ain’t idiot. It’s not what you’re really called. It’s just that you sure do look like a John to me.”

What was this annoying girl playing at? More importantly, why couldn’t she just bugger off and leave him alone? God, she was loud. Why couldn’t they install a volume control to the kids, or, even better a bloody on/off switch.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you, John?”

He tensed up when the girl pressed her warm body against his coat. This was so unfair. Why didn’t her friends call her away? The first girl looked like a sensible one; maybe she’d shout down and tell this porky gob on legs to stop bothering him.

The two girls stood up and ran down the aisle then jumped onto the seat in front.

“Who’s your new mate then, Joanie?”

“He ain’t my fucking mate.” scoffed the girl beside him. “But I’ve called him John. Cos he looks like a John.”

Henry wished a hole would appear below his feet and swallow him. They’d now reached the section of this performance where the bitch got nasty. She now had an audience. He’d been in so many similar situations over the years; he could write her a new script.

“He was trying to look at your tits, Emma.”

The girl whom Henry had first thought was the sensible one sniggered. She turned to her friend.

“They’re your best feature.”

“Fuck off.”

“God’s honest truth,” continued Joanie. “I saw the pervy bastard gazing down at us when we were getting on the bus.” She leaned closer to her friend. “He was licking his lips.”

“The girl in front of Joanie burst out laughing. “You’re a dirty old bastard, ain’t you?” said Emma, whilst looking at the side of Henry’s face.

He continued to stare through the window whilst thinking of at least half a dozen put downs of his own. He kept his mouth shut, determined not not allow a bunch of kids to rile him up.

“It’s our stop next,” said the sensible one.

Henry uttered a silent prayer of thanks.

“What about him?” asked Emma, “Don’t you think we ought to report him or something?”

The sensible girl giggled, “You dozy bitch, she’s fucking winding you up, you know what Joanie’s like.” She climbed of the seat and grabbed the metal pole at the top of the steps. “Are you two coming or what?”

“Pass me your dinner, Emma.”

“What for?”

“Come on, you tight cow, I’ll buy you another one.”

The girl sighed, reached into her black bag and passed Joanie a large pork pie, wrapped in cling film.

Henry surmised that being horrible to fellow bus passengers must burn a large amount of calories off the shit stirring, fat bitch. He dearly wished that she would choke on it.

“Come on, Joanie, the bus is about to stop.”

She got off the seat whilst unwrapping the pie. Henry got ready to breathe a sigh of relief.

“People like you ought to be castrated.” She shouted.

“Yeah whatever,” he muttered.

The bus slowed then stopped.

“Oi, Henry!”

He spun around and was hit full in the face with half a pork pie. The girl ran down the stairs and jumped off the bus as Henry just sat there while cold pork jelly and broken pieces of damp pastry fell off his chin. He shut his eyes and tried to block out the calls and jeers as the teenagers ran alongside the moving bus.

Henry had double-checked his face in the bus station toilets, cleaning off a few stray crumbs he’d missed earlier.

It had been half an hour since he’d stepped off the bus and the humiliation caused by those teenage brats had begun to fade. There was no point dwelling on the incident, he’d taken the correct action, it’s not like he’d have gotten away with punching the overweight, foul-mouthed, vicious blonde bitch.

The old man placed a large mug of steaming coffee in front of Henry. He breathed in the strong aroma coming from the liquid. Maybe he was wrong about the coffee after all. It smelled delicious.

“I made it just how you like it, I even remembered to put your two sugars in this time.”

Henry gazed in uneasiness at the grinning man, “Wait, how do you know that I have sugar?”

The man’s grin faded a little, he shrugged, “its how you asked for your coffee when you came in here yesterday, Henry.”

He hurried over to usher in a grey haired man wearing a crumpled brown suit. The café owner left him feeling like someone had just walked over his grave. He’d never been in here before in his life; that was one fact that he was damn sure about. How the hell did he know his name? That feeling of unease increased when Henry realised that the horrible teen called him by his proper name as well.

Suddenly, Henry didn’t want the coffee. He needed to get away from here as quickly as possible.

Chapter Three

Eileen Mitchell caught the scream before it escaped. She shot up and wiped her shaking hand down her wet face. What the heck was all that about? Eileen released a quiet sob and so tried to keep her eyes open. That dream was still there, waiting for her to close them again, ready to torment and mock. Even with her eyes wide open and staring out of the bedroom window, she could still see the last few images of her late husband. After a few more seconds of watching a starling hop from one branch to another, the dream images faded away like smoke, leaving Eileen with an acute sense of loneliness.

“Don’t you dare start crying, young lady,” she said quietly. A single warm tear ran down her cheek and dropped onto her cream bed sheet. “It was just a silly dream. She placed her hand flat against the sheet, covering up the moisture. “There’s no need to get all emotional about it.”

That starling was still resting on that branch, outside her window. She leaned forward and watched the bird until it flapped its wings and flew towards the tree on the other side of the road. She had always enjoyed the view from this window. It was the only thing in this hateful place that Eileen did enjoy. Her husband would have hated it here as well. Even the view wouldn’t have satisfied him. He certainly wouldn’t have allowed anyone move them, but he was no longer on this realm. Her husband had left Eileen five years ago now. His poor heart had finally gave out.

On most of the days, Eileen was able to get through the long hours with the minimum of fuss. Her hectic self imposed schedule saw to that. There were moments in her day when something he did or a certain memorable aroma would set her off sniffing but overall, Eileen managed to get on with her life with the minimum of trauma.

The nights were a different matter. As soon as the sun left, so did Eileen’s composure. It became even worse when she became stressed or events got a little too much for her to cope with. On these occasions, Arthur would pay her a visit in the middle of the night.

At least, that was how Eileen preferred to interpret his arrivals. She had no doubt that one of those overpaid, overbearing head doctors would quite easily find some other ‘rational’ explanation. The fear of being alone would probably be at the top of that list, or having them wrench her out of her comfort zone and needing the old and familiar to cling to. Yeah well, those white suited morons didn’t know squat and she wasn’t going to enlighten any of them.

Her Arthur hated any kind of doctor, especially the ones who dived inside somebody’s head. He thought they were all a set of nosey parkers, worse than fishwives, making up stuff just to keep them in a job. Eileen removed her hand, pleased to see there was no sign of that tear. Why did he choose today to visit her? She’d been perfectly fine all week. In fact, Eileen was almost getting ready to accept that she might even be settling in here, not that she was willing to tell any of the staff this admission. There was no chance of that.

Still, her eyes were open now, the sun streamed through the window and to say in this bed would be a sure sign of laziness. Eileen folded the covers back and shivered. The sun might be out but it hadn’t warmed up the room. She looked at the watch and sighed. No wonder, it wasn’t even eight yet. They didn’t switch on the central heating until nine.

Eileen resisted the temptation to pull the covers back and swung her legs out and slipped her feet into the slippers beside her bed. It was a bit chilly. “I bet they do it on purpose,” she muttered, walking over to the window. “Keep the crumblies in bed so they can finish their chores.” Well this was one crumbly who refused to bow down to their regime.

“Oh stop it, you silly old girl.” Eileen turned away from the window and padded back to the bed. She sounded just like Arthur. He was the one who fought against the evils of society. Trust to be told, she never rose before nine on a Monday anyway. This was her traditional day of rest.

Trust Arthur to get her up an hour early. Eileen suppressed a groan and finished straightening the covers before walking out of the bedroom. She was at a loss at how to occupy this extra hour. Her Monday didn’t have any spare minute left. All was all mapped out. Despite this being her rest day, there were still enough chores to keep her occupied. Thing was, those chores were slotted to specific times. Moving any of them down to this hour would just ruin everything.

She walked into the kitchen and stretched, feeling the bones crack. A bit of food would kill a few minutes. Eileen dug out a couple of slices of bread, popped them in the toaster then flicked the kettle switch. Why move her already allocated tasks around? If she looked hard enough, there would be plenty of other jobs that needed doing. Eileen patted the cooker next to her. The oven’s interior hadn’t been cleaned in over two weeks now. Eileen had been meaning to get that job ticked off for ages. That should easily kill the extra time. She nodded, pleased that her day was now back on schedule.

Her only granddaughter, Joanie, would be popping in at half past ten. Eileen smiled, looking forward to the company. There were a few bits she needed to stock up her cupboard, she was sure that Joanie would only be too happy to pop to the supermarket for her.

She dropped in a teabag, noting that she’d need another box of those as well. Eileen made a mental note to add those to the list, then picked up the kettle and poured the boiling water into her cup. There was no way that she’d be able to get through the day without her regular tea breaks.

That girl hadn’t done too badly. She was such a kind and polite child. Joanie had picked up those high-quality traits from Eileen. She sure as heck hadn’t received those good manners from Joanie’s mother. Thank goodness Eileen was still around to give that girl a guiding hand.

Looking back, she had to blame Arthur for the reason why their daughter turned from such a sweet girl into a horrid little hellion. Her father always saw the best in everything that girl did, no matter how misguided. If she got into trouble with the police then, as far as Arthur was concerned, it had to be the fault of the girls with her, being a bad influence to their precious daughter.

They only altered her ways one year before her teen years were closing. By then, that girl of hers had already worn them both down. Her last surprise had caught them both off-guard. Their daughter married some fellow with more money than sense. Arthur had almost choked on his chocolate digestive when she announced the news.

It seemed ironic to Eileen that Arthur had been willing to forgive their daughter for putting all their lives through a living hell but, marrying into a class above them was like the biggest betrayal of all.

She buttered her toast, picked up her tea and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Eileen turned around and sighed at the sight of her wide open bedroom door. That would never do. Eileen placed her breakfast on the table and hurried back to shut the door. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to come in here and gaze into where she slept. Almost a quarter of an hour had passed already. By the time she had finished her breakfast, she’d only have half an hour left before she was due to wake anyway.

When Eileen sat in her chair and took a nibble from one of the slices, she recalled a fragment from her last dream. Arthur had been going through one of his annual do it yourself modes and was putting up a wooden shelf in the living room, back at the old house. Instead of screwing in the metal brackets, the silly oaf had taken it upon himself to use nails instead. That was just like her Arthur, stubborn to the core. There was no point in explaining that his idea wouldn’t work. As far as he was concerned, it was all the others who didn’t know what they were doing. He had his claw hammer in one hand, while gripping a bunch of nails between his teeth.

In the forty years of marriage, Her Arthur had never been able to get the hang of DIY. Eileen had a couple of fond and a million of not fond memories of the wooden disasters that he’d tried to create. She had often wondered if his book shelf, in their spare bedroom, was still there. Arthur had been so proud of that achievement. He’d put that up almost ten years ago and by some major miracle, the shelf has managed to stay on the wall for more than a week. She’d never dared to place an actual book on it though, that really would be tempting fate.

Eileen took another bite of her toast and washed down the mess with a slurp of tea, while imagining her daughter carefully placing one of her very expensive ornaments on the shelf. Knowing her Arthur, his ghost would be under the shelf, keeping it in place until she had filled the shelf. Eileen giggled at the thought of that spoiled little cow seeing the contraption collapse, taking all of her precious objects with it. “That’ll teach you to steal my house,” she muttered.

In the dream fragment, the shelf was almost complete. He’d already told Eileen that this piece of furniture would probably outlast the pair of them. He only had one more nail left to use. Arthur took the last nail from between his teeth, placed it in one of the screw holes and hit it three times: band, bang, bang.

Eileen jumped when she realised that the sound of banging wasn’t in her head. The noise originated from outside her living room window. She almost dropped the cup of tea right into her lap when the banging sound repeated. Eileen placed the cup and the remains of her toast back on the table in front of her and got to her feet, keeping her eyes fixed to the window.

It took her a few moments to identify the strange sound. When the noise revealed itself, Eileen gritted her teeth and forced down the annoyance. Some little begger was standing right outside the door that led into the communal grounds and smacking the side of her wheelie bin with a thick stick. This little game was supposed to have been put to bed of few weeks ago. The orderlies had promised all the guests that it would never happen again.

A bunch of local kids went through a stage of running through the sheltered housing’s gardens. Taking great pleasure in breaking and hitting anything they could find in their carefully tended gardens. When the occupants shook their fists, the kids would just scream abuse at them before running off to find another victim.

Her annoyance changed to unease, this sounded different. She tensed up as the rapping sounded again. It was three times, in rapid succession, just like the last time. Eileen frowned and walked closer to the window, until the bin came into view. It was probably just the wind, the lid hadn’t been closed properly; that she was being daft and was jumping at shadows. Deep down though, Eileen knew she was lying to herself.

Oh yes, she knew her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. Eileen saw a long shadow cast on her lawn. Despite the length of the distorted shape, it had to belong to some nasty little local boy. Her trepidation dissolved and cold anger replaced it. No doubt that terrorist had decided to go it alone, to skipped off from school, solely to aggravate his betters. These kids nowadays never learned their lesson, so much for the staff promising them all that this would never happen again. Even with the new metal barriers circling the premises, that kid had obviously found some way of getting inside.

Her Arthur wouldn’t have put up with any of this nonsense. he’d have been straight out there and given that kid a bloody good hiding and damn the consequences. She wasn’t going to go that far, but that kid couldn’t be allowed to keep this up. That terrorist would get a piece of her mind. As she marched over to the side door, it did occur to Eileen that she really ought to telephone the warden and get him to deal with the brat. After all, that was one of his jobs.

She shook her head, as if that kid would take any notice of that big daft pudding. The man was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. All the residents had heard what the kids called him, taunting the man with all those horrid and nasty names.

Come to think of it, what were the odds that the kid out there would take any notice of an old bird like her? More than likely, the little sod would deluge her with a torrent of nasty and degrading names just like before. Did Eileen really want that to happen to her? She’d never be settled for the rest of the day after such a stressful situation.

Her mind was already made up. Eileen retrieved the door key from the drawer under the book case and pushed it into the lock. No, this had to be done. How would she be able to live with herself if she allowed some snot-nosed brat to walk all over her? Eileen turned the key, knowing full well that, even if the kid had heard her door unlocking, he’d still be out there, holding his stick and with an arrogant smirk plastered all over his face, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing she’d be able to do to stop him.

Eileen slowly grinned, knowing that it would take her that long for her to wipe the smugness off his face. She pushed down the handle. It had been many years since a child had felt her sharp, stinging hands on their bare bottom. She figured that it would be like riding a bike, how to properly punish a child was one skill that you would never forget.

So, you weren’t allowed to hit children anymore, the best you could do was to make them sit on a naughty step or some rubbish like that. What a load of codswallop. Her father beat the living daylights out of her and she turned out to be a model child, always polite and never once would she dare answer back any adult.

Well, maybe she did once or twice, but Eileen always had the good sense to be mischievous well away from where she lived, so nobody would recognise her. All kids did silly things like that, it was all part of growing up. Deep down though, each and every child of her generation knew full well what would happen if they got caught. That fear of getting caught was what missing from all of these modern kids.

Well, this one outside was about to discover that fear. Eileen Mitchell flung open the door, her set features ran like wet mud at the sight of the monstrous creature that stood before her. The huge orange lantern eyes set deep in its grey face blinked twice. She felt a shriek building up inside her, what the hell was it? Eileen stood there, her feet frozen to the floor as it opened its mouth, revealing twin rows of tiny pointed teeth. It then dropped the branch.

Without any warning, it hurled its little, naked, grey body towards the open door. Eileen jerked back, almost tripping over her own feet. She managed to slam the door shut and with her trembling fingers, she turned the key.

The creature slammed against the door, the old woman screamed and fell back, grazing her side on the corner of the table. The sudden pain acted like a glass of ice-cold water thrown in her face. She shrugged off the numb shock that had begun to cover her like a cloying blanket and hobbled into the kitchen.

There was no way that she would allow some escaped circus freak to terrorise her in her own home. She slid out her sharpest knife from the wooden block and hurried back into the living room.

She noticed the top window was wide open as soon as she entered the room. The window ought to be closed, Eileen licked her lips. “You had better listen. I’ve got a very sharp knife, whatever the heck you are. I don’t have a problem with sticking this into you.”

There was no answer, not that she expected one. Eileen glanced around the room, her eyes darting from underneath the armchair to behind the television, they were the only places something that small could hide; she was sure that it hadn’t sneaked past her.

She shuffled closer to the window until the garden came into view. There was nothing there, no five foot troll and definitely no dropped stick. Eileen glanced at the knife in her hand then clamped gown on a hysterical giggle. It had either run off or, more likely she’d imagined the whole bloody episode.

It could have been a very bizarre and vivid hallucination caused by a change in her medication. Eileen pressed her nose against the glass and checked her garden again. There was nothing out of place. Maybe it was the onset of senility. Mrs. Williams at number forty-eight started seeing things before she went loopy. The change of medication seemed the obvious option. Why else would her Arthur be paying her a visit? He had always admonished her for taking too many tablets.

Eileen turned around, she saw her cup of tea and let out a heavy sigh. She wouldn’t be able to drink that, it would be stone cold by now. That would never do, she’d have to make a fresh one to calm her nerves. She could put the knife away too before she hurt herself with it. She padded over to the coffee table and reached for her cup when the front room window exploded, showering her back with glass shards.

There was no time for her to draw breath before something heavy landed on her shoulders. The weight knocked her off balance and she fell forward, her face smashing into the soft carpet.

The creature on top of her grunted then opened its mouth and bit deep. Eileen Mitchell felt a hundred needles pierce her neck then she felt no more.

Chapter Four

After ten whole minutes of staring, he decided that he wasn’t mistaken after all. He had put on a bit of weight. The thought of Henry’s best friend, William Norton, getting heavy around the sides, brought on a slight smile to Henry’s lips. It was the first event, this morning that had lifted his very heavy spirits.

He double checked the time. According to his watch, they had twenty minutes left before they were due back at work. Time had gone so quickly today, it didn’t feel like ten pest time at all. Henry smiled, despite the hardships caused so far today, he didn’t feel to bad. Of course, he put that down to the fact that he was back into his daily routine. The pair of them had been making the trip to this sandwich shop every work day for the past ten years.

Back in those days, before the American franchises invaded the town, the workers at Henry’s mill had little choice but to put up with the less than edible canteen food. The newly opened sandwich shop had been like a breath of fresh air. Not that they’d been able to grab a sandwich. At lunchtime, the queues had always been out of the door and around the corner. The only way around this had been to ring up and put in an order a few hours before the queues began to form.

These days, their favourite sandwich shop had plenty of competition. Even some of the kebab houses had taken to opening early to catch some of the passing trade. Still, the shop had plenty of loyal customers to keep the owner happy.

The two men had missed out on their morning break coffee but Henry considered that to be no great loss. The coffee from the vending machine on their floor never tasted that good anyway. Thanks to the unexpected find earlier, he had no intention of soiling his taste buds with any of that foul muck anyway. The bonus of slipping into the town denied them the dubious pleasure of tolerating the overbearing cacophony of a canteen full of over two hundred middle-aged women bitching on for twenty minutes about inconsequential bullshit.

Oh yes, he could definitely see lots of bulging flesh around the man’s hips. If he carried on like this, pretty soon his Bernadette would be casting envious eyes over William’s newly acquired ample frame. Henry chuckled to himself, he couldn’t help it: this was the man who boasted that he could eat anything and not put on a single ounce of weight. Perhaps he ought to start asking for low fat mayo to go on his two cheese salad sandwiches. No, scratch that. He needed to go on a diet right now. It would probably only take two more sandwiches to turn this man into the human Jabba the Hut.

William skidded to a halt and spun around. “And just what the heck are you giggling for?” he paused, “And more importantly, why are you staring at my arse?”

There was no doubt in Henry’s mind those blue faded jeans were way too small for William now. “You’re getting fat, Billy boy. It looks to me like the dreaded middle age spread has finally caught up with you.” He patted his own stomach. “unless your wife had finally got you pregnant.”

William pulled a hurt face before he squeezed in his gut. “That’s crap,” he retorted. “Just look at me. I’m at the peak of my physical fitness.”

“Yeah, sure you are,” scoffed Henry. “Is that’s why Mrs. Norton had to squeeze you into those jeans with the help of a crowbar?”

William dug his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. With his slouched gait and sullen expression, he now looked more like the teenager the man so desperately tried to masquerade. The expensive trainers, grey designer shirt and floppy, dirty blonde hair just completed the look.

Henry felt that he might have touched a bit of a sore point in reminding his best friend of his own mortality. Henry decided to keep any further insults regarding his age and imminent downward spiral into pensionland to himself, ay least for the moment.

“So what’s wrong with you today, Henry? All this aggressiveness from you this early is most unlike you. It can’t be your time of the month, that was last week.” William clicked his fingers and beamed, “Of course! That’s it, it’s obvious, you’re just jealous of my good looks and sexual stamina.”

Henry laughed.

“It’s just hit you that I’m an immortal sex god and I’m only hanging around a mere mortal like you cos nobody else really likes you.” He sniffed. “I must say, it took you long enough to discover the truth. It’s eating into you like acid, I can see that now.”

He shook his head. “You really are so full of shit, Billy boy.” He wondered how his friend would react if he told him that he’d just spotted a few grey hairs in the side of William’s head.

“Well if it isn’t that, I can only conclude that your Bernadette is denying you her bedroom body.”

“There’s nothing wrong with our sex life, mister. If you really want to know the truth, I snuck into your house on Saturday night for a couple of hours. I wined and dined your beautiful wife before taking her upstairs. We had a great session in your bed, William; I’m just a bit pissed off because she wouldn’t go down on me. Of course, she did apologise afterwards. Apparently she was so used to your tiny cock that she felt her jaw would break if she tried to suck me off.”

“That so did not happen.” he replied, shaking his head.

“Oh? And just how would you know that? If I recall, Saturday night is your wargaming night.”

“Because, on Saturday night, Mr. CleverClogs, I was filming our Marion as she serviced the milkman and if you don’t believe me, you can buy the DVD online for only thirty pounds.”

Henry’s face broke up; William soon joined him in the giggle fits whilst walking into the sandwich shop.

Their sandwiches were already made and waiting for them on top of the glass counter. Two cheese salads for William and two ham salads for Henry. They hadn’t deviated from their choice in all the time they’d been coming here.

Marion, the woman who owned the shop gave William a shy smile and a wink. Henry didn’t mind too much, the flirting bastard might have gotten the attention but it was Henry who received the extra ham.

William paid for all four sandwiches; his friend hadn’t had a sudden generous urge, his friend always paid for lunch on a Monday.

“Okay Henry, I’ve got to dash. I’ll see you at lunchtime.”

“What? Where are you off to in a hurry?”

William sighed, “Didn’t I tell you?”

Henry shook his head, “I think I would have remembered, buddy. My memory isn’t that crap.”

“I’m sure I said something. Look, I have to run an errand for my wife. I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise.”

Henry looked at the clock on the wall above the counter. “Well you’d better get a move on; we’re due back in fifteen minutes.”

“I will.” He placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “And I don’t want you worry about that review. I had mine yesterday and it’s a breeze. I know the rumours about it affecting our pay but believe me, that’s just bullshit. The union has already made the deal.”

“I wasn’t worried,”

“Yeah, sure, like I’m going to believe that rubbish,” snorted William. “Come on, man I’ve known you too long for you to give me that ‘I’m not bothered’ attitude.” He looked across at Marion. “This guy thinks he’s Clint Eastwood today.”

The dark-haired woman flashed Henry a smile and winked. “Oh, I don’t know about that, William. Our Henry is so much cuter.”

Henry felt his cheeks going red.

“Yeah, right, more like Clint Eastwood’s ugly sister.” William blew a kiss to Marion and hurried over to the shop door. “I’ll see you lot in a bit.” With his pleasantries out of the way, William rushed out of the shop.

Henry watched his friend crossing the high street through the shop window. The truth of it was that he’d pretty much forgotten about his review, that horrid girl on the bus and the café owner had taken up much of Henry’s thoughts today. For the life of him, he just couldn’t work out how the hell they’d known his name.

“Don’t tell me that I’ve given you the wrong order, Henry.”

He wasn’t even aware that he’d turned around and walked back over to the counter. Henry shook his head. “No, Marion, they’re fine.”

Henry hadn’t even opened them. He looked up and licked his lips, “Marion, do you mind if I ask you a rather strange question?”

The woman smiled, “This is a turn up for the books, young Henry. It’s not often you speak to me without your friend present.” She smiled. “Sure, go ahead, hit me with your strange question.”

Right at this point, Henry wished he’d just kept his big mouth shut. She was going to think that he’d lost his mind. Worse than that, Marion would no doubt tell William and his friend wouldn’t let him live it down for the next few months. He looked at her expectant face and realised he couldn’t back out of it now. Okay, so it’s not that odd, I promise. Do you ever serve a customer one day and then serve that same customer the next day but it turn’s out to be a different person?”

Marion rubbed her chin. “Hmm, that is a bit of an unusual thing to ask,” she replied. “But, now that you mention it, this did happen to me, a couple of days ago. Last Thursday, I think.”

Henry leaned forward, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Well, this young fellow came in here and spent ages looking in my drinks fridge. I only remember him, because he was rather cute. Eventually, after much deliberating, he chose a can of Lilt. Now the weird thing happened just twenty minutes later. This same bloke came in and bought himself a can of coke and asked for a beef sandwich. Well, I goes and asks his if he was really thirsty or something. He didn’t half give me a funny look.” Marion grinned.

“As it turned out, they were identical twins and had just moved into the area last week. We did have a laugh about it. Apparently, they’re used to it. Anyway, why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing.” said Henry, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

The woman leaned across the counter giving Henry quite an eyeful of cleavage. He felt the blood rushing to his face again.

“Now, I think it’s my turn to ask you an odd question. Has you mate been acting different, these past few days? I don’t mean to pry, but I think that William has another woman on the go.”

Henry bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter from bursting out. “That’s absurd, come on, Marion, this is William we’re talking about here. He might be a bit of a flirt but he wouldn’t go behind his wife’s back, he loves her.”

She shook her head, “I don’t mean to be rude here, but you’re just a man, you can’t see the subtle differences, the change in body language. Believe me, Henry, I speak from experience. My first husband had a woman on the go.”

“How did you find out?” Henry wanted to shoot his own mouth, he didn’t want to hear about her history, all he wanted to do was to get back to work; this didn’t concern him.

“I didn’t find out, not at the time, I was only a kid myself, but looking back, all the signs were there. I was just too young to see them.”

This was all wrong; he wanted to go back to the pretend smiles, the extra slices of ham and the bluff camaraderie. More than anything, Henry wanted to leave.

“You have no idea where William has gone. That’s obvious. He told me yesterdays though. Apparently, William’s gone to see a solicitor because his wife has pranged the car.”

“She doesn’t drive.” There was something else going on here, he was sure that he detected a brief self satisfied smile appearing on the woman’s face just then.

Marion coughed and made a show of looking at the wall clock. “Listen to me, gassing on about stuff that doesn’t concern me; look, take no notice, Henry, I’m probably wrong about it all. I’d better get back to work. Speaking of work, Henry, you’d better get a move on before you’re late.”

Bloody hell, the woman had a good point, he only had five minutes left before the mill whistle sounded. He’d never get there on time.

“If you cross over the road and cut into the Church Street, there’s a footpath around the back of the shops, it’ll take a couple of minutes off your journey.”

She followed his eyes to the clock.

“And don’t you worry about that old thing; it’s at least ten minutes fast.”

Henry gave her the briefest of smiles and rushed out the door.

Considering the time, the roads weren’t packed with traffic. It made the crossing easy. He thanked his lucky stars, it was usually hell to get over the roads. He checked the time once he reached the other side and saw that there was fifteen minutes before the mill whistle sounded.

The devious woman in the shop must have thought that Henry had just fallen out of the apple cart. The only reason why Marion suggested this short cut was because this must have been William’s chosen route. She probably watched him sneak through here while keeping Henry busy.

Even so, he still couldn’t work out why she made such a song and dance about looking at the clock and suggesting he may be late. Then again, what did he know? Poor Henry was just a man who couldn’t see the subtle change in body language.

Henry turned into Church Street anyway. She was right, it did lead to the mill and it did cut off a few minutes journey time. It was also secluded and quite a few people had been attacked on here over the years. There had been a few petitions about getting the street clean up and upgrading the lighting but nothing had come about it. He ought to be okay though, who’d want to attack him in the middle of the day?

As he hurried along the cobbled road, he asked himself if this really was a good idea. Hell, the woman could have made it all up, and even if William was seeing someone else, it wasn’t his business what he got up to.

It’s not as if his friend didn’t have the opportunity, they worked in a female dominated environment and as William often said, the place was just bursting with sex starved cougar and MILF, just dying for a bit of attention.

He turned into the shortcut then ran between the two rows of Victorian houses and caught himself peering over the crumbling brick walls and into the overgrown gardens and concrete yards.

What the hell was he playing at? This was just a complete waste of his time. Henry was getting caught up in Marion’s paranoid fantasies. Just what was he expecting to see? His best friend bending some slapper over a wheelie bin, with her knickers around her ankles while he gave her a good seeing to?

He needed to get a grip on himself. Henry put the woman’s ridiculous notion of William seeing another woman behind him and concentrated on getting his head right for this bloody review.

The end of this stupid short cut was now in sight. It felt so odd to think that he’d just traversed what was probably the most dangerous street in the town without giving it a second thought. “Oh my, you are getting brave in your old age.” Henry took his eyes away from his shoes and looked up to see a green delivery truck roar past the gap. He looked back down, just in time to stop a carrier bag wrapping around both his feet. Henry wasn’t all that surprised to see that the bottom of the bag contained broken beer bottles.

As he turned, Henry noticed something bright red flash past the corner of his eye. He spun to the side and stared into a patch of land beside him. The ground was choked with bramble and nettle but he saw nothing amiss.

“Give it up, Henry,” he muttered. “You’re jumping at shadows.”

He stayed where he was though, despite his attempt to reassure himself, Henry could tell that something wasn’t right with this picture. He heard a low moan and almost smiled. Maybe Marion was right after all, the dirty old bastard. Henry crept a little closer to the low wall, treading around the shards of glass that littered the cobble stones.  He crouched down and peered over the wall. There was somebody in there; there was definitely movement beyond the dense foliage.

His common sense, coupled with the fear of being late for his shift could go take a running jump. He just had to see if Marion’s suspicion’s had any weight. Henry needed to see, he needed to see if William really was being unfaithful to Dadra. More than anything, Henry wanted to see who the man was fucking.

Henry stopped and looked at the two paper bags in his right hand. He could hardly act like the SAS whilst holding his lunch. Henry pushed his two sandwiches into his jacket pockets, crossed over to the low wall and vaulted over it, thankful that the long grass on the other side muffled his landing.

There was somebody else in here, he could feel it in his bones. Henry paused, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. Since when did he become some sort of army tracker? Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to doubt these new feelings. He crouched beside the wall and surveyed the surroundings. That flash of red originated from an expanse of dense bushes, growing by the side of the old stone building. The only thing between him and those bushes was a single oil drum, stood in the middle of weeds.

It would have to suffice. Henry ran over to it and dipped behind the oil drum. He felt like an over excited kid doing something really naughty. This had to be the most exciting thing he’d done in a long time. Where did this sudden burst of reckless behaviour come from? Could this be his body rebelling over the fact that he didn’t stand up to himself on the bus this morning?

He looked over the top of the drum and grinned. He saw them now, not clearly but enough to tell that it was a naked man and a woman. His excitement faded a little when it became obvious that the man wasn’t his friend, William. Not unless he’d put on more weight, changed his hair colour and lost some height. He couldn’t really see much of the woman; the man’s back blocked her from view. But he heard her moans and gasps.

This was all wrong. He felt his face redden. He really should leave them to it. The image of somebody else walking down here and catching Henry spying on the couple made his face blush an even deeper red.

He’d never live that down, Henry stood up, intending to leave them to their violent or passionate lovemaking, He couldn’t be sure of which as he’d yet to experience either. The woman screamed, this time it did sound as though he’d hurt her. Henry leaned forward, feeling so guilty but he just couldn’t help it.

They’d shifted position, the woman still wasn’t visible but he did have a better view of the man. He noticed something on the back of the other man’s neck; it looked like a large mole. Henry’s blood went cold; he had a mole just like that too.

Oh, god, this couldn’t be right. He leaned forward for a closer look. The height was about right, so was the body shape, even the hair colour. It was him, another Henry! As he took another step forward, his brown shoe crunched on the neck of a broken milk bottle.

The thunderous noise echoed around the buildings. Henry stood frozen to the spot as he watched the woman throw the man off him and sit up. Henry gasped out loud. Dark red blood covered the woman’s entire face but underneath that scarlet mask, there was no doubt that the woman was his wife, Bernadette.

The mill whistle then blasted out. Henry yelped and spun around; he shot out of the garden, jumped over the wall and ran up the last bit of the cobbled street.

Chapter Five

This was not going to plan. Joanie Winters reached that point where she’d have to make the decision whether to stay here or leave. Buggering off and striking this brilliant plan of her down as a disaster was looking to be the likeliest choice. What swayed her final verdict was that irritating car alarm. That repeated screeching was really getting on her tits.

She jumped off the bonnet of the vintage, canary yellow Aston Martin and walked around the back of the car whilst looking for any signs of life. God, what the hell was wrong with this picture? Just who would leave their car unattended in this part of town? Joanie booted the driver door before walking off. God, this episode was going to fuck up her nerves for the rest of the day now.

Her blood sang the Die Fledermaus and if her big fists didn’t smash into somebody’s flesh in the next few minutes, Joanie just knew that Mr. Policeman would be knocking on mum’s front door yet again. It wasn’t fair. How dare that car owner not turn up, it had taken her ages to set that up.

When Joanie had first walked past the car, not ten minutes ago, the gears in her mind went into full on high speed mode. Her mental mp3 player selected ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ as she took a walk around the big, posh car painted up in that shitty gay colour. She knew that here was an opportunity that she could not pass up. This vehicle must be worth a bloody fortune, somebody’s pride and joy. The owner probably loved it more than his wife or girlfriend, although, judging by the weird colour, he was probably a queer so he’ll have loved it more than his mum.

It stood to reason that if anyone even looked at this car in a funny way, then the owner would pull a major bitchfest. She imagined some big blonde bastard charging out of the shop opposite, with his hand on his hips, and screaming like a big girl. Joanie giggled and sat down hard on the bonnet.

The thoughtful owner had engaged the alarm and the shrieking noise threatened to burst her eardrum. Joanie didn’t care, it was like music to her ears. While she waited, Joanie even tried to scratch the paintwork with her fingernails but only succeeded in breaking two of them.

The first minute had given her nothing but a bloody headache, the realisation that nobody would come, began to sink in by the third minute.

As Joanie walked around the corner and the alarm faded just a tad, she still had trouble believing that nobody had turned up. This was just unprecedented. She could have smashed the windows and smashed a petrol bomb on those leather seats and still walked away.

Joanie hummed the Hebrides Overture to calm her raging fury. She was not having a good day. Why the hell wasn’t anybody biting today? Even the old guy on the bus earlier on had acted like a big soft teddy bear. His behaviour had surprised her, considering what Joanie had seen him do to that tramp the day before. That reminded her, she was going to pay a visit to that alley later on today. She hadn’t stuck around to see if that guy had killed the tramp, God, what a thrill it would be if he really had kicked that smelly fucker to death.

“Why didn’t he lash out at me?” She had been expecting the guy to go postal on her, him acting like some big girl’s blouse was the last thing she expected. It was almost as if the guy on the bus this morning was a completely different person to that screaming psycho who’d knocked seven shades of shite out of that homeless guy.

“You’ve got yourself a bit of a weird one on your hands there, Joanie.”

The car alarm abruptly fell silent. Either the battery had gone flat or that man had finally decided to make an entrance. It did occur to her that the car owner could have been there throughout the time she sat on that car, hiding behind a wheelie bin or peeking through a pair of curtains, just waiting for her to disappear.

She liked the sound of that. The idea that a grown man could be shit-scared of little old Joanie excited the hell out of her. Her black mood started to lift, until Joanie remembered where she was going and the dark clouds above her head squeezed together into one giant ball of hate-fuelled bullshit.

“This is so much bollocks,” she muttered.

Doing errands for her gran had to be the worst job on the planet. It was a complete pain in the arse, not to mention the potential embarrassment factor. If her mates found out the real reason to why she skipped out of college was just too soul destroying to even contemplate.

Her life would be ruined. She’d never be able to show her face again. Those dirty bitches would take the piss out of her for literally months afterwards. They wouldn’t do it in front of her, there wasn’t a chance of that happening, she knock them both into the middle of next week. Behind her back was a different matter though.

Doing chores for her gran hadn’t always been such a pain. Back in the not so distant past, when Joanie was younger: she loved paying a visit to the mad old bird. Back then, she used to be that frantic and intense old woman who constantly took the piss out of Joanie’s mum and showered her with money and presents. She still had that flick-knife that gran had given her for her tenth birthday. That was the dog’s bollocks, the best present she got from any of her family. Even the top of the range bike that dad got her just paled into comparison to that awesome knife.  She recalled using it to slash the tyres then saying the nasty man from next door did it.

All that changed when Joanie’s mum managed to put her in sheltered housing. Mum told Joanie that it was for the best, that gran’s night terrors were keeping the neighbours awake and she just needed someone to care for her properly. Like Joanie believed that bullshit story. Mum just wanted the house, simple as.

She went completely off the wall batty in the first few weeks in that place, that tough shell just fractured and Joanie did not like what slimed out. For the first time in her life she saw her fantastic gran as some mad old woman who smelled a lot like a stray wet dog.

Joanie wished that there was some way of getting out of doing this weekly chore but unless gran popped her clogs, she was stuck with it. Mum might be a bitch but she sure wasn’t stupid. One sniff of defiance from Joanie and she may as well kiss goodbye to the house WIFI password. To make matters even worse, Joanie’s contract phone was in her mother’s name as well.

The queen bitch was a past expert in the carrot and stick trick. She had Joanie by the scrotum sack, not that she had one but that wasn’t the point.

She stopped by the Church Street intersection and watched the traffic slowly flow past. Due to a recent spate of accidents on this part of the road, the council had installed traffic calming measures in the shape of speed bumps.

Joanie remembered her father ranting on about them a couple of weeks’ back, about how frustrating it was to get through the centre of town now. She reckoned that if it pissed her dad off who was like the calmest person on the planet, this bit of road must send most normal people into a blood fuelled rage. Joanie dumped classical music in the bin and selected some death metal. Her mental playlist needed something a little raw for what she had in mind.

She kept a lookout for the one special driver. Somewhere inside one of those cars was the golden halo that circled the one person who would be able to help Joanie climb out of this pit of misery and banish all those dark clouds that threatened to ruin her entire fucking day.

“Bingo,” whispered Joanie. Her perfect match was sitting behind a national express coach in a beat up old Ford Escort. Even from where she stood, |Joanie could see his arms waving about in sharp violent actions; his gesticulating mouth suggested that this man was very, very upset.

With his clipped mustache, steel grey eyes and black suit, this guy looked like the stereotype for a retired sergeant major. No doubt he had risen to the lofty position of a shift supervisor in some shitty little office. He probably spent most of his day terrorizing the poor bastards below him. “He’ll be a worthy opponent.”

She guessed that the man’s age was close to fifty. Joanie saw that as the perfect age for what she intended to do. Now all she needed was for the coach driver to get out of the way.

The lights had started to change; the coach driver saw an opportunity and jumped the lights just as it changed from amber to red. The man screamed even more abuse at of his window. This guy was ready to burst a blood vessel.

Joanie waited for the lights to start changing before rushing out into the middle of the road. She kept her head down whilst keeping one discreet eye on the approaching car. He slammed his brakes on, screeching to a halt. The man was out of the car before the wheels had stopped.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at, you stupid cow? You nearly went under my car.”

“You’re all mine.” She whispered.

Joanie lifted her head and looked over to the pavement, apart from an old woman exiting a sandwich shop and a young mother pushing a pram, the area was deserted. Still, even a limited audience was better than nothing.

She ran up to the angry man and grabbed his arms, “No, I won’t get into your car!” she screamed. Joanie dropped to her knees and pretended to sob. The man’s face was a picture; he honestly must have thought that he was dealing with an escaped lunatic.

Her audience had grown, A distraught girl’s voice always brought out the local rubber neckers. Another woman had emerged from the sandwich shop, judging from the white apron she must work there. Two men in business suits had got out of a car on the other side of the road and looked on in concern, or maybe it was amusement, Joanie couldn’t be sure. Whichever the emotion, they weren’t ready to intervene.

She scuttled back on her hands and knees. “I’m going to get the law onto you!” shouted Joanie. “I’m not a child; I know what those words mean.”

The traffic behind the man’s car seemed endless; she must be pissing a lot of people off with her dazzling performance. Joanie was about to reel off another outburst when the man took fright. He pushed her away, ran back to his car and somehow maneuvered his vehicle onto the over side of the road. He revved his engine and sped off.

Joanie stayed where she was, laughing softly to herself as the traffic swerved around her. She watched the woman in the apron rush over, with concern etched upon her face. She stopped dead when it became obvious that the girl wasn’t in a state of extreme distress.

“Are you okay?” she managed to say.

Joanie got to her feet, brushed down her denim jeans and prepared to walk away; she turned and glared at the woman. “What’s it got to do with you? Why don’t you just fuck off? Go on; get back to your shop, you dried up old bag.”

She sighed, feeling that warm glow of happiness spread across her chest, Joanie strolled across the road, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She had done it, Joanie couldn’t believe how well that went, what a superb performance. Even her gran’s evil dragon breath wouldn’t be able to knock Joanie off this plateau of happiness.

Joanie checked her phone and found that it had just left half past ten. Joanie needed to get a move on. The last thing she needed was gran to ring up her mum and accuse Joanie of abandoning her. Her mum’s bitchy voice would be the only thing with the capability to destroy Joanie’s good mood.

Her journey was almost over. Gran’s gaff lay just three streets away from Joanie’s location. She hurried past the huge old mill just as some twat blew the whistle. Jesus, that was loud. If she wasn’t pushed for time; she would have made it her day ambition to find out who had blown that whistle and shoved it right up their arse.

She stopped by the kerb, waiting for the traffic to thin. Joanie turned her head and watched some guy who obviously hadn’t been taught the Green Cross Code. He rushed out from nowhere and raced across. Something white dropped out of his pocket. As he stopped and stooped to retrieve it, the man was almost wiped out by a speeding cement mixer.

Joanie waited for a gap and ran across. She hurried over to a wrought iron gate, stepped into the park grounds, and turned to watch the man disappear into the building. “Now why does he look familiar?” then it clicked. “Well, well, if it isn’t my mild mannered psycho? So that’s where you work.”

Once she had finished with fucking about for her gran, Joanie decided that the strange man could become her next project. This guy was such an enigma. Joanie hated mysteries and Mr Pork Pie face certainly fit into that slot. It was so tempting to forget about the mad old bag and walk into the mill right now. She sighed. Not, that would be a bad move. He could wait, if the man worked there, then he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

“Patience, my sweet.” she whispered.

It wouldn’t take her that long to sort out her gran. Joanie patted her trouser pockets. On the plus side, doing chores for her, generally meant that she’d have a bit more money afterwards. There was always an opportunity to skim off a bit of shopping money and, if Joanie was really lucky, she might even have time to go through that bottom drawer in her bedroom again. The last time, Joanie found two fivers and an old watch.

Gran’s new prison overlooked the rugby playing field on the other side of the park. Joanie usually saw her perched in her window, like the mother from the Psycho movies. She got the feeling that the visit from her granddaughter was the sad old bag’s daily highlight.

She just hoped to God that the old bag hadn’t already rang up her mum. Joanie felt for the phone in her jacket pocket, half tempted to give her mum a buzz to tell the bitch that she was on her way.

No, bollocks to that idea. The phone could stay where it was. Ringing up mum would be a waste of time. It would only cause her more stress. The bitch would only accuse her of lying anyway.

If that cement mixer had flattened that bloke, she’d have the perfect excuse not to go to gran’s. How cool would that be? Not only would Joanie wouldn’t have to do the old bag’s shopping, she would have got to play in front of a huge audience. Joanie would have told them that the man was her dad and she was nearly hit as well. She smiled at that thought; the driver of that cement mixer would have been traumatized for life.

Joanie, interlocked her fingers and cracked her joints. Her vivid imagination had a knack of showing her worst case scenarios, she considered it to be a unique gift. One of these days, the whole world really would fall down around her and, unlike the other plebs in this shitty town, she alone would be able to handle the utter terror. Until that happened, Joanie would just have to continue to create her own entertainment.

She saw movement just in front of her and suppressed a giggle. He was one opportunity that she couldn’t afford to miss. Joanie ran forward, vaulted over the wire fence and ran across the bowling green, ignoring the outraged faces of the old giffers who were in the middle of a game. She picked up one of the bowls, surprised at how heavy it was and then threw it towards the closest angry old man; she then jumped over the fence on the other side and into the playing field.

Joanie swerved through the dog shit piles spotted across the edge of the field and crossed into the ground of the retirement home. Joanie had often wondered which joker came up with the name ‘Eden Crescent Retirement home’ the huge imposing Georgian complex looked about as friendly as a Doberman with rabies.

No wonder gran hated the place; the old woman complained that it felt like she’d moved into the castle of Doctor Frankenstein. It even had its own loony tunes caretaker. Joanie wasn’t easily fazed but even he gave her a bad dose of the creepazoids.

When her gran’s bright red front door came into view, Joanie finally slowed down and dug out her phone, Thanks to her impromptu short-cut she had made good time. Joanie was only a couple of minutes late.

This routine of having to sort out gran’s shopping was just one more way to keep the noose around Joanie’s neck. Her mum’s pathetic attempt at proving that she was the daddy, that her word was fucking law. She couldn’t wait until her mum went the same route as her gran. There’d be no cushy nursing home for that woman, not a fucking chance. The best her mum would get from Joanie would be a garden spade round the back of her evil head.

If her gran wasn’t so completely bonkers, Joanie would have mentioned the benefit of online shopping to her. Then again, even if gran still possessed all of her marbles, how would she understand something like the internet? She’s probably just got to grips with electricity. “It would have made my life a lot easier,” she muttered, banging on her door a couple of times.

When there was no immediate answer, Joanie tried the handle; it was locked as per usual. Was the old bag even out of bed yet? Wait, yeah, she would be, it was Monday. Gran wouldn’t want to fuck up her precious routine. Joanie wondered if Gran realised just how alike she and her mum was. It was like looking at an older and younger version of the same person. Thank God, she was nothing like the pair of them. Joanie would just die if anyone compared her to those two crackpots. She banged on the door again. Where the bloody hell was she?

Joanie lifted the letterbox and peered through, blinking rapidly as a blast of cold air buffered through the narrow hole; did she have all the windows open again? There was something else too, a faint smell of something foul. It reminded her of raw liver. Her stomach slowly rolled over.

“Hello Gran, are you in there?”

Joanie stood up and let the letterbox flap crash down. She sighed, now what was she going to do? This was just like her, the daft old sod had probably buggered off down to the communal area in the next building. Well she was stuffed if Joanie was going down there. That place gave her the creeps. The last time Joanie went in that place, all she got was slavering looks of lust from all the old men in there. Jesus, that had been so creepy. Getting mentally undressed by a bunch of blokes with one foot in the grave had been one experience she had no wish to repeat.

“Now what do I do?” There were only three options available. The old bag was still in bed, she really had or down to the communal area, or she’d finally popped her clogs. Whichever it was, Joanie had no intentions of hanging around.

She took a step back, wondering whether to sack in the investigation and hang out at the shopping arcade instead. Joanie smiled as a silhouette appeared behind the frosted glass window.

“At fucking last,” she muttered.

It did occur to Joanie that the shadow behind the glass seemed very large for a little old lady, it looked like she was standing of a box and wearing five coats. That pungent smell had now drifted through the door. Joanie wrinkled her nose. Jesus, that really was fucking rank. What the hell had her gran been up to? The vivid image of the old bag taking a bath in pigs’ blood dropped in unannounced. There was no way that Joanie wished to dwell on her gran’s flabby tits.

Joanie listened to her rattling the key in the lock. It took her gran a few attempts to unlock the door. The sudden outburst of violence coming from beyond that door when the door wouldn’t open made Joanie’s blood run cold. It sounded like a bear was attacking her. Joanie stepped back, whilst listening to the sound of the bolt slamming back. This was all wrong, that urge to get the fuck out of here stuck its talon’s into Joanie and refused to let go.

The door opened a few inches and a strange face appeared through the gap. “What do you want?” rasped the voice.

She thought back to her earlier thought of the world falling down around her and wanted to wet herself. Joanie stared in utter confusion, was that thing really her gran? She didn’t know what to do. The face reminded her of some distorted waxwork figure, melting under heat.

“Come on, you. I haven’t got all day. What do you want?”

“Is that you, gran?”

As soon as that magic word left her lips, the old woman’s face started to alter; it seemed to flow and shift. Joanie blinked then shook her head; did she really just see that happen?

“Oh, it’s you, Joanie. I’m sorry, I forgot all about you visiting.”

The woman then abruptly slammed the door, leaving Joanie feeling very confused. This was all too intense. She didn’t like this feeling of losing control, not one fucking bit, her anger rose past Joanie’s feeling of anxiety. Anger was good; she knew where she stood with that emotion.

How dare the old bag slam the door in her face! Joanie didn’t care how feeble or mental her gran pretended to be, nobody treated Joanie like this. She was about to grab the handle when the door suddenly opened.

“You don’t have to worry about doing my shopping today, Joanie.” She threw something green onto the doormat. “Treat yourself to some sweeties, child.” The slammed the door again.

“What the fuck is going on?”  Joanie bent down and picked up what her gran had just thrown out. At first Joanie thought it was a sock, until she got closer. “Oh. My. God,” she hissed, picking up the roll of bank notes.

Joanie didn’t bother counting it, she rammed the package deep into her jacket pocket and rushed away from the home before her senile gran had realised what she’d done. There must be at least £300 in that roll, maybe even more. Where the hell had she been keeping this stash? It must have been close by for her to retrieve it so quickly. Then again, who cared, it was hers now and there was no way that she intended to go back and give it back, fuck that.

The old bag had finally lost her marbles. She wasn’t worried about the nutcase phoning her mum, she probably doesn’t know what a phone looks like anymore, she certainly didn’t recognise her own granddaughter.

Chapter Six

The sight before him sure did please Henry. He honestly believed that his whole life was beginning to crumble around him. He craved for his old routine to come back and for the distressing incidents that had so far plagued him today to just bugger off and leave him alone.

Thank God for his friend, William. Henry should have known that he wouldn’t let him down. There he was sitting on their park bench, still trying to maintain his image of one cool dude. With his legs spread apart and his arse hanging off the seat, the man did his utmost to maintain the role of a sullen teenager.

Henry had often wondered how his best friend could stay in the same position for such a long time, it looked very uncomfortable, that man’s back must ache like a bastard every night.

As he strolled through the park gate, he cast his mind back to morning break and just how close he’d been to dying. Another inch and that vehicle would have flattened him into the road. He’d had to spent to the next ten minutes in the toilets, trying to stop the shakes. Okay, so he’d had a bit of a shock down that short cut but Henry had always thought of himself as a logical man. There would have been a logical explanation for what he saw. He had no idea what, but there would have been one, if he had stuck around and not ran off like a big baby.

William had often ridiculed Henry for his meticulous actions, telling him that life was for living, what was the point of breathing if you didn’t take the odd risk? Well, Henry had taken more than one odd risk and as a consequence almost died. Enough of that nonsense. Henry would prefer the sedate life anytime.

Henry heard irate voices, it surprised him to find they originated from the bowling green. Now they were one particular group of people whom he would have associated with the word ‘sedate’ Not today though. The members looked most riled about something, he wondered if the local kids had broken into the club building again. It did look the likeliest explanation. The little terror were always breaking in there.

It was their own fault though. The members should realise that they were no longer living in the 1950’s and spend a little money on security. How long would it be before those kids decided that breaking in and pissing in the corners just weren’t enough? How long before one of them decided to set their treasured club building on fire?

He watched them for a moment longer, trying to see him and Williams playing bowls. It did look like fun but, maybe that sort of thing was just too sedate for him. Did he really want to get too old before his time? Perhaps in another thirty years. Somehow though, he doubted that William would have a go, not matter what age he was. Oh no, In thirty years time, that sad old fart would still be trying to balance his ancient frame on that park bench.

Henry looked back towards the bench and saw that his friend no longer had his body sprawled across it anymore. He couldn’t have left the park already. Where had the scrote buggered off to?

As Henry neared their bench, he couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. Kneeling beside their favourite spot was Williams protruding arse. Henry jogged over and stood behind him. William was kneeling on the grass, with his head inside a privet hedge. He appeared to be muttering to himself. His earlier suspicion of William’s weight gain was spot on.

“Jesus, man, what a bloody horrible sight, you could part a bike tyre in that arse crack.” He announced, staring at the overflowing pasty white flesh squeezing out of the man’s jeans.

William jumped and cursed as the back of his head collided with the sharp point of a snapped branch. “For crying out loud, Henry,” he shouted as he backed out of the hole. “You could have given me some warning that you were behind me.”

“That would spoil the fun,” replied Henry as he sat on the bench. He took out his remaining sandwich. “I was tempted to kick your arse, in the end though, I decided against the idea, I had no intention of watching the shoe disappear into your crack.”

His friend stood up, wiped a few bits of leaf litter from his knees and sat down beside him. “I have not put on any weight, you cheeky bastard.”

Henry chuckled. “The two foot deep impression you left beside the bench tells me otherwise, William.”

“That was so funny, almost hilarious. Have you considered TV work?”

Henry pulled the sandwich out of the paper bag, opened it up and grinned when he saw just how much ham that Marion had stuffed into his sandwich today. “So, are you going to tell me what you were doing?”

“I was watching the wildlife.”

“I’m sorry?”

William sighed he suddenly looked very uncomfortable, “Well. It’s a bit weird.” He said, crunching up his face. “At first, I thought the noise came from a baby bird, you know, a sparrow that had been caught up in the hedge. But…”

“But what?” prompted Henry.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just forget about it.”

His friend opened up the first of his sandwich and took a single dainty bite. It was obvious to Henry that William clearly hadn’t forgotten about it. Whatever ‘it’ was. He ate like an old woman and sat like one too. Something was not right here. Marion’s earlier conversation ran through his mind.

“Come on, Henry. Don’t keep me in the dark. How did your review go?”

Henry tore his gave away from that hedge and stared at his friend. Was the guy genuinely interested in how he did, in front of all those suited up morons, or was William trying to change the subject?

“You’re freaking me out, Henry. Have I got something dripping out of my nose? Why the adoring stare?”

Henry sighed, “No, of course not. The review was fine, in fact it was a breeze; I don’t even know why I got so worked up about it.”

William gave him a knowing wink. “Yeah well I did tell you. Your trouble is that you never listen to my advice. You also have this tendency to get so worked up about every little thing.”

Now that William had entered familiar territory, namely pointing out every one of Henry’s flaws, The guy had started to relax; he’d even slipped back into his usual teenager slouch.

“Wait on, how come you’ve only got one sarnie? Don’t tell me that you’ve already scoffed it.” He broke into a smile. “You have, haven’t you? Oh god, you greedy bastard.” William tutted and shook his head from side to side. “Talk about double standards, and you have the cheek to call me a fat pig.”

Henry contemplated lying, nodding his head and going along with the gastronomic accusation but in the end he opted for the truth and damn the consequences.

“Well, would you believe that my other sandwich magically turned into a pizza?”

“Is this the start of another one of your lame jokes, Henry?”

Henry shook his head. “No, I’m being serious. The damn thing fell out of my pocket when I was running across the road and got flattened by a truck.”

William spat a mouthful of half-chewed sandwich onto the path in front of him. God, you’re such a dork.” He said, giggling.

He felt as though his best friend had just rammed a sword into his chest. Yet, he should have known that William was going to react like that. Of course he did, he always did. This masochistic streak cut a deep wedge through the whole of Henry’s personality; he had no idea why he continuously offered himself up for ridicule.

William had calmed himself enough to allow him to take another bite, Henry was tempted to tell him about the pie incident on the bus this morning, just to see if he’d spit even more masticated sandwich onto the path, or choke on it, either option was good for him right now.

Henry needed to cut out all this Freudian self-analysis crap; this wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

“Dude, you’ve got some lettuce wrapped around your fingers.”

He glanced at his finger, expecting to see a bit of leaf that must have dropped out of his sandwich. The blood drained from Henry’s face when he saw that his finger really had turned green, the exact shade as the painted bench, he watched incredulously as his other fingers followed the same process. Oh god! What the fuck was going on here?

William hadn’t noticed, once he’d made his announcement, he’d turned his attention back to his own sandwich while keeping a very close eye on the hole in that hedge.  Henry thrust his hand deep into his pocket, he couldn’t allow William to see his start to change; otherwise he’s have no other choice but to kill him.

Henry was seriously beginning to freak out. Where the hell had that alien thought emerged from? He watched William take another bite out of his sandwich and wondered if this was how genuine insanity felt like.

“What’s up with your face, Henry?” William chuckled. “You look like you’ve just found half a worm in your sarnie.”

“Nothing,” he replied.

William nodded at the now concealed appendage. “In that case, why do you look like you’ve just shit yourself and what’s with the hand hiding all of a sudden?”

Henry shrugged, wishing William would just drop the subject. He put his other hand into his pocket. “I’m just cold that’s all.” He could tell that William didn’t believe a word of it.

“You’re talking out of your arse, mate. It isn’t cold at all. Come on, what are you hiding?”

For just one moment, he did consider showing him his changed hand. He’d enjoy the look of total shock on William’s face. That particular expression would soon change to complete terror as Henry wrapped his green fingers around William’s neck and slowly throttled the piss-taking bastard. That alien thought did not disturb him one bit.

“Marion told me after you ran out of the shop, that she thinks that you’re having an affair.”

William’s idiot grin fell off his face. “Did she really? Why am I not surprised that the gobby bitch said that to you.”

Henry nodded; he took both hands out of his pocket, a little surprised to see that both his hands were normal. He rubbed them together. Henry did notice that William didn’t deny the accusation. “Oh yes, she’s quite sure that you’re knocking someone else off. Apparently she knows all the signs.”

“Did she say who with?”

Henry shook is head.

William laughed. To Henry’s ears, the noise sounded a little forced.

“Please don’t tell me that you believe her!” He leaned forward. “Henry, seriously, what do you think?  You know what women are like for trying to shit stir. You ought to, man. We both work with like a thousand of them. They do this sort of thing every day, backstabbing each other, smiles one minute, calling each other a bitch the next. It’s what they do. I expected better from Marion though. I thought that the woman was above all that. Looks like I was wrong about her.”

Henry took great pleasure in making William squirm. There was no doubt in his mind that the man was doing the dirty with another woman. He wasn’t sure how he knew but Henry didn’t doubt that it was true.

William stood up; he threw a quick glance at the hedge before turning back to Henry. “Look, mate, take no notice of her. She’s just winding you up.” He laughed again. “I mean, come on. Do I look that stupid? We both know that our Debra would put a contract out on my life if she even thought that I was playing around.” He made a show of looking at his watch. “Look, I’ve got to shoot. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Henry nodded and yawned, making no attempt to move off the bench, he rather liked it here. He watched William scamper off. No doubt the man was now seriously worried. Probably trying to guess at how many more people that the shopkeeper had told, Henry suspected that the conversation she had with him would have been repeated a dozen times with her regulars.

William hadn’t been wrong about how his wife would react if Debra did discover that her hubby was dipping into another honey pot. The woman would slice off both of William’s testicles and display them on the mantelpiece, in an empty jam jar.

As his friend disappeared through the park gates, Henry slid his body forward on the bench, spread his legs and adopted the famous William pose. It surprised him just how comfortable this position was.

The old people had resumed their games. He figured that even old people couldn’t keep the level of self-righteous anger for more than a few minutes. He grinned to himself.  Perhaps if William had adopted that emotion right at the onset, then Henry might not have been so suspicious. Oh God, he so needed to find out who his best mate was fucking. William would have gone for somebody younger, that much was obvious. The image of his best mate trying his best to get inside the knickers of some teenage slut was too ridiculous to even contemplate.

He jerked his head away from the green when he heard footsteps heading towards him. Henry chuckled as two girls walked past him. They both glanced at Henry and broke into giggles.

Henry smiled and nodded back at them, he wanted to giggle himself, He’d already met these two ladies earlier. Their bitchy fat friend wasn’t with them this time. How ironic would it have been if William had somehow got into the pie thrower’s panties? How old would they be? He guessed that the girls were around perhaps nineteen, give or take a year. He cast an appreciative look at their slender pale thighs and ran his tongue over his lips. Henry found it rather pleasing to find that his morals as well as his constant feeling of insecurity had all fucked off for a long walk.

He so wished that their fat friend was with the pair. Would the new Henry unpleasantly surprise her? He’d have loved to return her present. The pie had gone but he did have plenty of meat that he could stuff inside her.

Henry growled at the erotic images that had accompanied that thought. He then giggled again. Forcing meat into her, that was funny.

Those pleasing thoughts shifted away from the three girls and focused on the sound of flapping and scuffling just by his feet. Henry looked down and saw that he’d attracted some company, well, the mess that had flown out of William’s mouth had. Three pigeons were scrapping over the bits of chewed up food. One of the birds only had one leg; it didn’t seem very bright, while the other two were fighting over the bread and cheese that one was content in pecking at a cigarette end. Henry was about to launch his foot at it, to see if would was bright enough to move out of the way when Henry heard a wolf whistle.

Was that aimed at him? Henry looked up and down the path, expecting to discover that the two girls had come back but the only people close by were the old people, pottering about on the green. Somehow, he didn’t believe any of them had wolf whistled at him. He heard it again, so did the pigeons.

With a start, he realised that the sound was originating from beside him, specifically, the hedge. The two able footed birds left the food and bobbed towards the source whilst the remaining pigeon took fright and flew towards the bowling green.

As the two pigeons stopped by the hole, instinct told Henry that the maimed bird wasn’t as stupid as he first thought. One more whistle echoed through the foliage. The two birds lost their trepidation and disappeared into the hole.

Judging from the violent cloud of feathers erupting from out of the hole, accompanied by the blood pooling across the grass, those birds weren’t coming back out. Henry guessed that they now resembled William’s spat out sandwich remains.

Henry felt his mouth filling up with saliva. It wasn’t for the loss of his other sandwich that had caused Henry to start drooling, he was thinking of all that warm pigeon blood flowing down his throat. These new feelings should have horrified him and he knew that the old Henry would have already run off by now, no doubt with his trousers soaked with his own piss.

He reached over the arm of the bench and drew the tips of his fingers through the crimson puddle. Even the feel of the fluid against his skin reminded him of home, his old home, not the one that he…

Henry jerked his head back as a band of exquisite pain hit his body with the force of a sledgehammer. He arched his back and stayed in that position as his muscles locked up. Henry attempted to scream but the only sound that left him was a harsh croak. As abruptly as it arrived, the pain vanished, and he collapsed onto the bench like an old rag doll. He thought he saw two small doll sized figures dart out from under the hedge and run towards the children’s playground but he wasn’t sure, nor did he care. Henry’s mind was filled with gruesome images that belonged in a horror movie. Henry wanted to throw up. Just what the heck had just happened to him, and more importantly, why couldn’t he remember?

Somebody close by the bench was sobbing. It took him a few moments to realise that it was him.

Chapter Seven

He slammed his wandering mind back into gear and stopped his rhythmic hand movements. The wheelchair scuffmarks along the tiled floor could wait for a couple of moments. Albert Docker leaned back and stared down the dimly lit corridor, somebody was approaching. He quietly stood up and strained his ears, trying to work out which of the residents was sneaking about. From the pattern of the footfalls, the caretaker was willing to bet himself a fiver that those sneaky steps belonged to that Edna Beauchamp. That note was as good as his, it had to be her, no doubt heading towards the kitchens again, to see if he had been stupid enough to leave the double doors unlocked.

That lone forager would get nothing to eat tonight. Albert had checked those doors three times after he’d finished cleaning up the mess those decrepit animals had left him. Maybe he should have scooped all the waste food into a bucket and left it outside Edna’s bedroom door? It would have saved the daft old codger a journey.

As for how the woman would react when she saw him standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking her way to the kitchens, now that was different kettle of fish. No money would be passing from left hand to right hand on that outcome.

Albert had feelings for Edna, he really did but those deep emotions that he had for the woman had kind of risen to the surface and floated away. In fact, since he woke up a couple of days ago to find his ‘lost treasure’ standing, without a shred of clothing around her beautiful body, Albert had gone off all of his special ladies.

He leaned against the dark blue wall, being careful not to allow his dirty hands touch the clean paintwork and waited for the woman to turn the corner. He suddenly decided that this situation did require for money exchange. His left hand bet his right hand, twenty pence that Mrs. Beauchamp would just smile at him before asking him to buy her a quarter of sherbet lemons. He had heard the senile old fart say that to at least four of the staff these past couple of weeks. It appeared that Edna had regressed a little bit further.

Thankfully, it didn’t matter anymore. It was actually a relief to hear that her senses had slipped even further back. Gone were the times when Albert prayed that Edna mind would stabilize. The enjoyment that he got from that woman decreased every time she lost a few more years. She used to be his favourite special girl as well as his first one.

He still remembered in perfect clarity that fateful night when he’d barged into the canteen and caught Mrs. Beauchamp sitting on one of the tables with her legs spread, her hand inside her knickers, with her eyes shut tight whilst panting.

Albert knew the rules off by heart, he’d also seen this type of sick behaviour  quite a few times since his employment started at the Eden Crescent Retirement home. The shameful woman would have left the canteen and gone back to bed after a few minutes. This time though, that scenario never played out. Edna must have heard him enter the room and she opened her eyes. She smiled at Albert and called him Frank and lifted her skirt.

The old woman came into view; Edna clocked the caretaker, turned and hobbled back the way she came. Albert shrugged, perhaps he should be thankful that she hadn’t called him a monster and screamed the place down. She’d done that last week, just after the doctors had changed her medicine. It had been very embarrassing.

He brushed his hand over his crotch, thankful that there had been no sign of life in the old trouser department. Looking back, he should have been ashamed of what he’d done to Edna in the canteen all those months ago. He wasn’t though, it was fun, just like the other occasions after that meeting. He guessed that the only reason why his cock hadn’t demanded attention was due to his Lost Treasure had worn him out.

Albert got back down on his knees and scrubbed off the last of the black rubber tyre marks. Thankfully that was the last stain on his tiles. If they thought that he was going to mop and buff as well, then the management could go and take a running jump. This was supposed to be Doreen’s job, the only reason he was doing this was because the unreliable woman had gone and pulled a sickie again, which meant that, as usual, Albert had to pick up the slack.

For once, he hadn’t really minded the extra work as it kept his mind and body occupied. Now that was something that he was thankful for. These past few night have been more than a little strange for him.

Albert packed away all the gear in Doreen’s cleaning trolley, taking care to place everything back in its rightful compartment. Unlike Doreen, he cared about his job here at the home.

He’d timed his last job just right as the bell sounded for lunchtime, just as he closed the last compartment on the cleaning trolley. He needed to shift himself before the nearly dead trampled over him. This corridor would not stay empty for long. The sad old farts would all be desperate to get to their own special seats in the canteen before anybody else stole them. The bell also signaled the end of his shift as well. That meant it was time to return to his own room and face his Lost Treasure.

Albert pushed Doreen’s cleaning trolley along the corridors of Eden Crescent’s nursing home as fast as its wonky wheels allowed. Old people and food was a dangerous combination and he had no wish to be caught by that horde of stampeding sloths.

Besides, some of the men, at least the more coherent ones had turned into solid shoulders to cry on for the two remaining ladies that Albert had dumped when his Lost Treasure walked into his life.

He slid the passkey into the lock and pushed the trolley into the employee’s ward. The old men in question should be thanking Albert, not verbally abusing him at every opportunity. Albert had helped the old girls re-discover their sexuality, made them more receptive, more open.

Those men should have jumped in on the rebound and taken advantage of their vulnerability. It’s what he would have done. Oh no, not them, those bastards turned into chivalrous knights of old, determined to avenge the girls. They basically took it upon themselves to attempt to make a life a living hell at every opportunity. One of then even spat in his face this morning as he cleaned up their recreation room.

The saliva that had dribbled down his cheek belonged to his nemesis, Frank. At least that’s what the silly old bastard obviously thought he was to the caretaker. What that dumb overly angry pensioner failed to take into account was that Albert retained the same powerful physique that he had back when he was in the army, whereas Frank now resembled a five-foot raisin. It would probably only take a single upper cut to change that bitter old bastard from almost deceased to definitely deceased.

The name had been a coincidence, yet it did seem a little ironic that Edna’s would be defender shared the same name as her long dead husband.

Albert wheeled the trolley into the cleaning cupboard, grinning as he shut the door. Somehow, he really did doubt that the men weren’t all whiter than white, like they pretended to be. It didn’t matter about their age, men were men and in his experience, not one bloke would turn away the affections of a vulnerable woman. More than likely, the randy old bastards had tried to take advantage and discovered, to their horror, that the lead in their pencils had turned to string. That was the real reason why they were so pissed at him. He was a constant reminder of their own mortality. There could be no other reason.

It surprised Albert to feel a familiar stirring in his loins. All this thinking of sex was doing wonders. Oh yes, he could see the beginnings of a bulge in his downstairs department, so there really was some life left down there after all. That was a blessed relief. Albert had honestly thought that his Lost Treasure had sucked him dry this morning.

A sharp tapping brought him out of his muse. The gentleman from his previous thoughts had bypassed the call to the canteen and was currently knocking his gnarly fist against the reinforced glass in the door and showing Albert some very rude gestures. Albert Docker was so tempted to point to the bulge in his pale blue overalls and do some gesturing of his own.

In the end, he just shook his head, showed the old man his middle finger then hurried over to the fire door that separated the cleaning area and the employee’s quarters. Albert took one last look at the furious man behind that glass before he pushed through the fire door. Maybe flipping him the bird wasn’t one of Albert’s better ideas.

He watched the door swing shut and shook his head for the third time. That man ought to be ashamed of his disgraceful behaviour. How demeaning was it for Frank to act like a jealous school-kid? He needed to show a bit more respect to other people, perhaps take a leaf out of Albert’s book?

He pushed that silly man’s actions to the back of his mind. Albert had better things to think about. A smirk flowed across his face. Namely how his Lost Treasure would soon be pleasing him. Albert still found it so hard to believe that it had only been two days since her mysterious arrival. It felt as though his Lost treasure had been part of his life for years now.

That glorious moment when he had opened one eye and saw that beautiful naked stranger, dancing in front of his bedroom window will be seared in his mind forever.

As he opened the other eye, the woman was already on his bed, crawling over his rigid body, towards Albert’s face. This had to be the most terrifying experience in Albert Docker’s rather uneventful life, but the fear didn’t stop his body reacting to her proximity. The feint scent of Obsession floated up both nostrils; oh my god, the woman was even wearing his favourite perfume.

She must have noticed his stirrings in his trouser department and pulled the quilt off the bed. The question of the woman’s identity flew from his mind when she wrapped one slender hand around his rigid shaft. She gently squeezed then released. Albert stroked through her short-cropped blond hair, hoping that this dream would never end.

As he padded along the corridor, heading towards his own door, he began to think that perhaps there really was possible to have too much of a good thing.

It didn’t take Albert long to realise that his perfect mate was real and not a dreamt up creation. When his alarm woke him up at five in the morning, he found her sitting on the edge of his bed, still naked and still needing to be satisfied. After two exhausting days and nights, Albert never saw the woman eat or sleep, guessing that she must have caught up on fulfilling her own needs when he had left the room.

All the woman seemed to require from him was constant sex. He found it ironic that his ex-wife used to say the same words to him. Albert wasn’t ashamed to admit that his own sex-drive was way above normal. Perhaps, under the circumstances, this was a blessing as he had yet to refuse her advances.

Albert had done manual work for most of his working life. Underneath his thin layer of fat, lay an impressive network of strong muscle. For a man two decades out of his prime, the caretaker could still take on men half his age. He may have no fear of any of the crowd that frequented his local pub but he would have second thoughts on tackling his Lost Treasure.

The woman’s appearance was most deceiving, she some serious power beneath her slender frame. During their constant bout of sexual athletics, his lost treasure had proven repeatedly that she was the dominant partner in their relationship.

He slid the passkey down and pushed open the door to his room.

Would she still force herself on him if he refused her advances? The thought chilled him somewhat as he knew that even if he fought, he’d have no chance against her. He found it strange that he hadn’t really thought about just who or what she was until now. His virility had clouded his judgment; that and the fact that even though her constant demands for sex were beginning to wear even him out, Albert still knew that she was the greatest thing to ever happen in his life.

He’d already braced himself for his inevitable hug. This routine of her running up to him, jumping on to his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck seemed to be her way of showing affection. He also took a deep breath and held it as he walked into the apartment; there were times when Albert thought the woman bathed in that perfume; it was weird how she could almost control the strength of the scent, as if it came out from her pores.

Today though, his hug didn’t materialise, neither did his Lost Treasure. He frowned, something wasn’t right here. “Hello? Honey, is this a new game?” This was a bit too weird, why the hell was she hiding from him?

Albert closed the door and felt a shiver run through his body. Bloody hell, it was cold in here. Were all the windows open in here?

“Where are you, honey?”

He didn’t like this at all. Albert was in no mood to play games. As the door clicked shut, Albert noticed another absence; the smell of Obsession had disappeared. Albert then saw the patio doors wide open, made the connections and hung his head, trying to keep him emotions in check. He knew this day would come.

His Lost Treasure had left him. The mysterious woman who suddenly appeared in Albert’s life and changed him forever had now gone the way she came. Yet, beneath the misery, Albert felt a touch of relief, although he knew that even this emotion would soon vanish in a few hours when his strong urges returned to full strength. Albert then thought of climbing into that cold bed alone and realised that he wouldn’t be able to last the night without his Lost Treasure.

The mourning for the chasm left in his life would have to wait, at least until he’d warmed up his apartment. Albert could then cry properly, without having to shiver. He hurried over to the door and stood on the threshold, looking for any signs of his Lost Treasure.

Albert looked over at the fence on the other side of the closed gardens and frowned. That was the only way out of the grounds. His Lost Treasure was very agile, experience had already shown him that much. Even so, that fence was eight foot high, he doubted that she was that athletic. Then again, she must have got into the ground some way.

He grabbed the door handle and paused, noticing that a window in the opposite block had been smashed. This was so like the other staff, why the hell hadn’t anyone bother to report this to him?

The pieces were slow to connect this time but when they did, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Albert raced across the wet grass, daring himself to believe that his Treasure wasn’t yet lost. Of course, why climb the fence when she could get out through another apartment?

His face broke into a joyous grin when Albert saw her in the living room, lying against a French dresser. The grin faltered as he neared the broken window. He was suddenly not so eager to approach her, that liquid coating her naked body was not beetroot.

She chose that moment to open her eyes; the woman noticed him standing outside the window, lifted both her arms and spoke her first words.

“Albert, my sweet, please help me.”

He threw away his reservations and climbed through the window to get to his Lost Treasure. He heard the distress in her voice, He couldn’t leave her like that; he just couldn’t.

The scarlet devastation explored up close turned his stomach. His job demanded him to have a strong constitution but this was just too much, even for him. Albert kept his focus on her beautiful body, trying to ignore that untidy pile of gnawed clean bones next to her right hand.

The strong abattoir stink disappeared under the sudden overpowering, sickly sweet smell of Obsession. She gazed up and smiled at him, he tried not to look at those bits of red meat stuck between her front teeth.

“Will you be my guardian, Albert? Promise me that you’ll protect me.”

He tore his eyes away from her imploring features and stared at the tiny pieces of bone and ragged scraps of crying flesh stuck to the wall behind her body. Something deep down in his gut tried to scream out, tried to tell him to get the hell out of this charnel house. Albert pushed that voice away, he’d stopped taking orders from his morality a long time ago.

“Albert, look at me.”

He complied with his Lost Treasure’s command, watching transfixed as she glided her fingers up her inner thigh.

“I need more meat.”

Albert nodded, unable to shift his eyes from what her fingers were now doing. His Lost Treasure arched her back, closed her eyes and groaned.

Perhaps it was time for one particular gallant knight to meet up with a real adversary. Would Frank’s apartment resemble this one if he sneaked his Lost Treasure inside? Albert already knew the answer to that question. He shrugged to himself, so, he’d have to clean up the place after his Lost Treasure had sated herself, it was no different to cleaning up after the others had finished eating in the canteen. It would be a piece of cake to sneak her into Frank’s room, after all Albert did possess all the passkeys for every room.

His heart hammered against the inside of his ribs. The relationship was about to enter a higher level.

“Albert?”

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from between her legs and looked at the woman’s beautiful eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Eight

Her aching fingers gripped the welcome sign and flipped it over. She watched the traffic crawl past the front of her shop for a moment, every car occupant could have been a potential customer. Marion Birkinshaw stepped back and closed the door. She was fooling herself. Not one of those people would step out of their warm cars to come in here. Besides, hadn’t she made enough bloody sandwiches today? Marion rubbed some circulation back into her fingers before slamming home the two bolts on the top and bottom of the door.

She stepped back, almost tripping over her welcome mat, then retreated behind the counter. This had been one hard day. All she craved was to collapse into the overstuffed floral chair, in the back room. Of course, Marion would ensure that a full gallon of strong coffee was within arms reach and chill out for a couple of hours. She might even lace her coffee with copious amounts of sugar as well. She’d been ordered to cut down, but this evening, Doctor Beachwood could go screw himself. A quiet giggle left her mouth. From what she had heard over the grapevine, that’s exactly what Maurice Beachwood did every night, since his wife ran off with one of his patients.

Her craving to relax would have to wait for a while longer. The open tub of coronation chicken, next to the chopped salads couldn’t stay like that. There’s be no rest for her until her workplace was spic and span. The other fillings had gone well today. There was little point in putting away what was left of the chicken tikka and tuna mayo, those tubs were almost empty. She’d just have to make up some new batches in the morning. Marion didn’t have the inclination or the energy to start any of that nonsense.

This day would go down in the history books as the busiest ever for Marion’s Deli Republic. It wasn’t just her poor fingers that were in dire need of a massage. Her very bones ached.

She’d only found out just before lunch that the chippie three doors up from her shop was closed for renovations and wasn’t due to open until next Friday. No bloody wonder she’d been rushed off her feet for the last few hours. Not that she was complaining about the extra work. Marion could really do with a few more days like this, hopefully, her wish would come true. She just needed to make sure that her new customers didn’t desert her when the chip shop reopened. Good business meant more money in the till, and extra cash was one thing that Marion was in dire need of.

The jobs were mounting up. The inside of the shop needed repainting, her drinks fridge was on its last legs, if that thing last another month, she’d be surprised. Health and Hygiene had already given her one ticking off about the condition of the counter tops in the prep area, so they’d need replacing.

Marion was no fool, the extra money coming into her shop while the chippie’s metal shutters were down wouldn’t cover all the jobs that needed sorting out, but it would smooth things over until the loan cleared.

“Just like the old days,” she murmured, looking down at the devastated tubs of sandwich filling. She’d been a lot younger back then. Having fewer customers had made her soft. She chuckled to herself and started to replace the lids on the fillings that she’d be able to use again in the morning. Being rushed off her feet had prevented her from dwelling on the little mistake that she made this morning.

Marion popped the tubs back in the fridge, emptied the two almost empty tubs and dropped them in the sink, then she gave the counter a quick wipe and headed into the back room and collapsed into her chair.

“Oh, that is so good.”

The ache in her bones wasn’t likely to go away until she’d crawled into her nice warm bed, accompanied with a hot water bottle, but this chair would serve to take the edge off her throbbing body until she got home.

Now that her poor mind wasn’t overburdened with half a dozen different customer orders running through it, Marion thought back to her gaff, from this morning. Why the bloody hell could she not have kept her big mouth shut? Still, it could have been far worse. Thankfully, she had only told Henry half the story. Her loyal customer was a decent enough bloke. Okay, so he was a bit of a wet blanket and probably wouldn’t say boo to a goose and sure, no doubt everybody tried to take advantage of his mild manner, but Marion expected more from Henry’s best mate.

Could Henry be that naïve though? Heck, everyone in town knew what William was like with the ladies. The guy never hid his flirting. Henry should have seen the signs. “Give over, girl,” she muttered. “After all, you never saw it coming.”

The predator hid in plain sight. Marion had always believed that the man’s harmless flirting was as far it went, that all changed last Christmas when the man successfully pulled Marion in the Dog and Gun. She’d had way too much to drink but she wasn’t that far gone to recognise one of her most loyal customers giving her the old sweet talking chat up lines.

She had learned quite a few new tricks from him that night. Marion felt a satisfied smile spreading over her face at the fond recollection of their noisy bedroom antics. God, he certainly knew how to gratify an eager, sex-staved middle-aged woman. Heaven knows what her neighbours must have thought. William didn’t allow her to sleep until past three in the morning. That smile quickly turned into a grimace. After all, as far as William had been concerned it had just been a one-stop fuck, unlikely to be repeated. Marion was just another notch in his belt.

That just made Marion feel even worse, his current floosie was getting a lot more than the allocated single notch. She’d always considered William to be a decent bloke, even despite his rather bizarre views on fidelity. That had all changed when she’d discovered that the bastard was knocking off Henry’s wife.

Marion stretched her arms and felt the joints crack. God, she felt like closing her eyes. That would be a bad idea, falling asleep in her chair would bugger up her muscles for days to come.

It would be best to forgo the coffee routine and head home. If the chip shop wasn’t due to open for a few more days, her shop will be full to bursting point, tomorrow lunch time. If she didn’t take a long relaxing bath and take something to clear her head, she’d be dead on her feet in the morning.

Her tired bones lodged an official note of complaint as she lifted her frame out of the chair. With any luck, a rested and tranquil Marion would be able to bluff her way through their usual routine when the two men stumbled into the shop tomorrow morning for their sandwiches. “You need to stuff a cork into your story, hun,” she murmured.

Lord knows what must have been going through that poor man’s mind after he left her shop. That settled it. If she could get Henry alone, in the morning, she’d just tell Henry to ignore her. She’d gotten William mixed up with another man. With a bit of luck, William would find somebody else by the end of the week and this whole nasty matter would be forgotten and brushed under the carpet.

If any of this got out, the news could put that poor man into an early grave; as for his best mate?  A tiger can’t change its stripes; just like that man would never stop chasing women, unless his wife caught him, of course.

She recalled the waves of pleasure that tore through her body when William used his expert fingers and tongue on her that Saturday night, Sunday morning. Marion hadn’t shed an ounce of guilt for William’s good little wife, sitting at home, no doubt wondering what her husband was doing.

“Admit it, Marion, you’re such a hypocritical bitch,” she murmured. Perhaps she was. If it hadn’t been her on that night, William would have no doubt found another receptive woman to screw. She smiled wistfully. That man had been an amazing lover. William was the only man who had ever satisfied her. Heck, he’d been the only man who’d even given her a genuine orgasm. Something that her late husband and never been able to achieve.

As Marion reached for her coat, hung over the end of the chair, that familiar feeling of jealousy coursed through her body. She’d only tasted a small slice of William, while Henry’s wife was enjoying the full cake, the lucky bitch. Maybe if she could get Henry to one side, she could always suggest something else to the man. After all, why should both of them miss out? Hell, what’s good for the goose and gander, and all that. He wasn’t that bad looking.

Marion’s erotic daydreaming evaporated when she heard somebody rattling the shop’s front door handle. Her usual response of shouting that the shop was closed dried up in her mouth when she realised that the noise was coming from inside her shop.

How the hell could anybody be in the bloody shop? She’d fucking locked and bolted the door! She jumped and slammed a hand over her mouth and the sound of cutlery crashing onto the floor. Whet more evidence did she need? They tried the front door handle again before sliding one of the bolts back.

Were they trying to get out? Jesus, she fucking hoped so. Marion dropped to the floor and crawled over to the door separating her from the intruder. She didn’t want them to know that somebody was still in the shop; perhaps they’d just open the front door and leave.

She eased the door shut, wincing as the Yale lock clicked. God, that sounded so loud. She sat with her back against the door, listening to whoever it was, going through the contents of the fridge. Her common sense told her that it was just some kid who must have sneaked in and hid while she shut the place up. All it needed was for her to stand up, march in there and order the little bastard out.

She shook like a tree in a hurricane. No brat would make the sort of sounds coming from the other side of that door. Coupled with the sudden onrush of foul stench, the only thing that Marion could think of was that some kind of beast was on the other side of the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered. “That’s just stupi…”

Marion squealed when something slammed into the door from the other side. The thin wood strained against whatever was trying to get through. It didn’t take long for her to realise that this flimsy door would not keep the intruder from getting to her.

She moaned quietly, listening to the door splinter, not knowing what to do now, Her frenzied thoughts cooked up the image of some bizarre flesh-eating troll, just inches away from her soft body. At any moment, it’s hard black claws were going to smash through the wood and drag her back.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, trying to clamp down on anything else her head wanted to show her. Marion leaped up and raced through the back room, towards the side door, praying that she’d forgotten to lock it last night. Another low moan escaped as Marion remembered that she’d left the shop keys were still on the counter, next to her mobile phone. Oh God, that was so unfair.

How long would it have taken the police to arrive? Two minutes at the most, the station was only down the road. The door banged again, Marion whimpered. It would probably only take another hit before breaking.

She reached the side door and pushed down the handle, already knowing what the outcome would be. The image of her turning the key last night played through her mind in glorious technicolour.

“Oh fuck, I’m trapped!” There was no way out. She forced down the fear, looked around the sparse room for anything she could use as a weapon, there was nothing here; even her knives were in the other room.

The cellar door stood ajar.

“Two minutes at the most?” The adjoining door wouldn’t last that long but the cellar door would. The alarm box was at the back of the cellar.  If she set that going, the cops would be here in no time.

Marion bolted into the cellar and closed the heavy door before locking it. This door was made from old oak; there was no way they’d be able to get through that one before the police got here.

“Wait on,” she whispered. Marion was sure that the cellar door was closed this morning. She shook her head, no it couldn’t have been. She flicked the light switch just as she heard the door in the back room crashing open then the image of Marion checking the cellar door this morning played through her mind, this time in black and white, she had bloody closed the door.

She stood at the top of the stairs looking down. She didn’t want to descend but what other choice did she have? The intruder was already at the other side of this door she could hear him tapping on the wood.

From where she stood, Marion saw nothing out of place but the cellar stretched all the way to the back of the shop. Anybody could be lurking down there.

“Come on, lass. Get a grip. You need to get those coppers here.”

She took a deep breath and walked down the steps, knowing that the danger was outside the cellar and not in here.

The strip lighting above her head bathed the room in harsh white light. Her anxiety lessened as Marion saw nothing amiss down here. Not that there were many places to hide, she’d cleared out the junk in the cellar a few weeks ago just before the Health and Hygiene paid her a visit. The only piece of furniture left in here was a rotting writing desk. It had been too big to take up the stairs; she was going to find someone to remove it.

“You’re jumping at shadows, there’s nothing here.”

She sighed and hurried towards the main control panel, just one press of that big red button and within a couple of minutes, a bunch of big policemen would be here to rescue her.

Marion suddenly stopped dead, her eyes widened in shock as a slim pale female uncoiled and slipped out from under the desk. She staggered back, not believing this was really happening. The figure stood before Marion and stretched her arms

The cellar filled with the overpowering sweet scent of perfume. Marion stared in shock as the figure turned around and grinned at her.

“Bernadette? On my god, what are you doing down here? Why don’t you have any clothes on?”

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this situation, instead, she whimpered. Marion’s voice died in her throat when the naked female’s head started to reform. Her features melted like hot wax.

The thing lunged towards Marion, the shrieking woman staggered back before turning and fleeing back up the stairs. Right now, Marion couldn’t give a fuck who was inside her shop, anyone was better than the abomination behind her.

“Hello? Is anyone down there?”

Oh God! Marion could have wept with relief. She knew that voice it belonged to Henry. Her intruder was probably long gone now.

Marion threw back the bolt and flung open the door. Henry stood at the top of the stairs. She took one look at his worried features and flung her arms around him, sobbing hysterically.

“We’ve got to get away,” she said. “You don’t even want to know what’s down there. Call the police, no, fuck that, call the army.”

The man prised Marion off his body, put his hands around her arms and started to squeeze.

“Henry? Henry what are you doing? You’re hurting me.”

Her panic bubbled up as his face began to melt. He growled then let go of Marion’s arms and violently pushed her.

Marion experienced a moment of weightlessness before crashing onto the hard concrete floor. She felt no pain, just a cold numbing sensation creeping across her body. Her eyes flickered open, she stared into the woman’s dark blue eyes; they were kind eyes. Marion wondered who the woman was; she looked past the woman’s close cropped blonde hair and gazed at the strip light. Marion couldn’t feel anything now; she felt at peace, it was time to close her eyes.

Just before the woman drew her final breath, a peculiar sound penetrated her dying mind. It sounded a bit like a litter of hungry puppies, followed by the noise of pattering feet.

Chapter Nine

She’d always thought that Emma’s hippo legs were the girl’s worst features. Joanie decided that the bitch must have been working out in secret. She never used to be able to run like a race horse with a rocket up her fat arse. Joanie leaned back against the metal fence and watched, smirking as Emma and Tessa shot out of the grocery store, each girl holding a large bottle of cider. The shopkeeper flew out of the front door a couple of seconds later. Oh, this guy couldn’t half move! Joanie was even willing to put money down that he might even catch one of the girls.

The sight of the three of these retarded clowns racing through the crowded town centre had to be the funniest thing she’d seen all day. “You really are such a naughty little girl,” she murmured, giggling softly.

She clapped and laughed when the shopkeeper pushed past some old man who obviously wasn’t aware that the crime of the century had just taken place. The silly man missed a bus stop with only inches to spare. Joanie wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep her lunch down if that shopkeeper had crashed into that concrete post, that would have been hilarious. She watched him grind to a halt, turn around a give her a glare that dripped with malice.

This was it. After the failure from the psycho on the bus and the no starter with Mr Yellow car, she had finally got herself a man who was up for a bit of aggravation. It was so hard to keep the happy smile from infecting her features. “Oh yeah, bring it on, dude. Bring it on.”

Her furious opponent’s progress halted as an old woman reached out, grabbed the top of his arm and jerked him backwards. She then proceeded to give him a right mouthful whilst pointing at a pile of grocery shopping spilling out of a dropping shopping bag. Her vitriol appeared to centre on the box of smashed eggs beside the feet of the other pensioner, the old man whom Joanie’s delayed opponent had smashed into. From what she could figure out, this wrinkled up dragon was that old giffer’s wife. Joanie almost felt sorry for the shopkeeper, he clearly wasn’t having a good day.

Joanie so enjoyed his discomfort, it made her feel tons better, this distraction helped her to stop dwelling on her gran’s odd behaviour. She still hadn’t spent any of the money, God it felt weird having so much cash about her person. Ironically, it had been Joanie’s reluctance to spend any of her unexpected bonus that had given her the idea for this set up.

The scarlet faced shopkeeper had somehow managed to calm the pensioner down. He now continued his trek towards Joanie. He really did look upset.

“You were with those two,” he said, stopping in front of her. “I know you were so don’t lie to me, girl.”

Joanie grinned, “Why would I want to lie? Sure, I was with them, so what?”

Judging from his astonished expression, her bold answer had put Mr. Angry on the back foot. He obviously thought that she’d deny the accusation.

“In that case, you’re going to pay for what they’ve stolen out of my shop.”

“That is not going to happen,” she replied, shaking her head. Joanie flashed him a bright, sunny smile. “I’m not their keeper. You should have run a bit faster. It isn’t my fault that you’re out of shape is it?”

“You cheeky little bastard!” He grabbed Joanie’s arm. “You’re going to wait in my shop while I call the police.”

“Take a look at the old bag over there, giving you the daggers. We both know that she going to go home and tell all of her mates about what a big-arsed dickhead you are. Sure, that’s going to hurt your trade but it could be a lot worse.”

“You talk too much, little lady.”

Joanie didn’t struggle, she allowed the man to drag her closer to his shop door. “Thing is, if you don’t let go of me, like right now, I’m going to scream rape and yell that you just grabbed my tits. What would all these other shoppers say to all their buddies when they got home? You’ll be famous, mate. I bet by the end of the day, you’ll even be trending on Twitter!”

The man stopped. He looked over her shoulder and noticed, probably for the first time, that he did have an audience. Joanie decided there and then that this guy wasn’t comfortable with crowds. He ran his tongue across his lips. Was he foolish enough to call her bluff? Oh god, please let him try it on.

“I know who you are, miss. I’ve got your face on camera as well as your mates.” The shopkeeper let go of her arm and pushed Joanie back.

She felt as though he’d just slapped her face. She watched the man spin around and hurry back to the safety of his shop. This was her fault, Joanie had been way too clever, too eager. She looked at the multitude of faces, some of them had already lost interest. Joanie had lost her audience.

“I mean it, I’ve seen you around here before, you evil bitch. You can’t fool me, with your angelic face.” The shopkeeper pointed to the shop next to his. “I’m going to tell everyone what you’re like. I’ll see you banned from going in every shop in town.”

Joanie stuck out her tongue and sighed heavily when he disappeared in his shop, slammed the door shut and locked it. God, what a disaster. Would he really tell all his fellow trader buddies about how he was bullied by some innocent little girl? Somehow, Joanie doubted that very much. Even if he did try and gob off, so what? She was certain that she’d be able to turn it into a favourable situation for her.

It would have been so much fun if he had got her into his shop. After all, he did bite. He’d have felt more secure in his shop, it would have given her more opportunity for entertainment, knowing that he was no longer frightened of potential customers overhearing.

Joanie thrust her hands deep into her jacket pockets and made her way towards their pre-arranged rendezvous point. Her black cloud had returned with a vengeance. She’d fluffed it. Joanie had found a biter and she’d let him go. All she had to look forward to now was her two pissed off friends.

A slight smile played upon her lips, thinking of all the horrid names that those two would be calling her. Joanie had told those two idiots that the shop owner only had one working eye, almost eighty and totally deaf. Nicking a couple of cider bottles would be a doddle and like dumb sheep, they believed every word that had spewed from Joanie’s lying mouth.

She raced across the empty road, noticing that the psycho’s flattened bag was still there. Joanie looked back and the huge imposing mill and realised that she still hadn’t found out anything about that man. It was tempting to forget about the girls and start her investigations right now. Compared to Emma and Tessa, this fellow was big game to their small fry.

Joanie sighed, that was all well and good, but she wanted some of that cider. Besides, that middle-aged clown wasn’t going anywhere, she could always sort him out once she’d put the girls back in their place. She turned away from the mill and walked over to the park gates, realizing, for the first time, that perhaps she ought to find herself some more mates, ones that weren’t so fucking stupid.

Would other friends be as much fun as Tessa and Emma though? Sure, it would be more of a challenge to manipulate them, like she did with those two idiots. Joanie slowly shook her head. No, it would be best if she stuck to Laurel and Hardy. She decided that having friends who were as thick as pig shit as well as gullible was more interesting.

Joanie hurried through the park gates, eager to get some of that cider down her neck. There would be trouble of those bitches had started before she got there. “Jesus!” gasped Joanie. “What the hell was that?”

It felt like her boot had just smashed a snail flat. When she drew her foot back, a thin film of crimson goo now coated the soul of her boot. “Oh, that is just too gross.” Perhaps if Joanie had watched where she was going, the bottom of her boot wouldn’t look as though she’d just walked through a lake of blood.

Bits of bone, feathers and indescribable pieces of meat covered the path and grass verge, next to the park bench. It looked as though a load of cats had gorged themselves on a few little birdies. Joanie wiped her bottom the edge of the bench and turned away from the disgusting mess. The quicker she got some of that cider inside her, the better she’d feel.

She gazed across at the bowling green. It looked so pristine and peaceful, now that all those excitable wrinklies had buggered off. They probably all had to go home for a bit of a lie down to soothe their nerves. They’d need to calm down before the old bastards invaded the bingo hall later on tonight.

“Jesus,” she spat. “What an exciting and fun packed life those sad old farts must lead.” To them, she guessed that their life wouldn’t have changed all that much since they reached middle age. The only difference would be that they slowed down. “Slowed down until their bodies stopped working. God, what a way to live your life.”

Joanie decided there and then that she would fight the system forever, either that or leave this realm kicking and screaming, just like she entered it. That idea sounded so preferable than sitting in some chair and watching her body and mind slowly rot away.

“Didn’t do much good for gran,” she muttered. “She fought all her life.”

Now that was so unfair! How the bloody hell had Joanie managed to get back onto the subject of her gran again? The only good thing that had come out of that freaky encounter was her thick bundle of money.

It just occurred to Joanie that her bitchy mum hadn’t rung her up. She usually made at least one phone call to see if gran was okay. At least, that was the pretend reason her mum usually gave. Like Joanie was ever going to fall for that old number. The bitch was just checking up on her. How would Joanie have reacted if mum had rang her up? More to the point, how would she have reacted if the bitch demanded that Joanie gave back the money? That would have been a tragedy.

“What would I do to get my mum’s noose off my neck?” Joanie ground her teeth in frustration. Her life would be so much better if she did have to submit to her mum’s ridiculous boundaries. She took a deep breath and tried to cast aside all this self pitying bullshit. She was better than that.

She increased her speed, leaving the bowling green behind and heading for the children’s playground. They had chosen that spot as their rendezvous point. If those two weren’t already in there, then trouble in the shape of Joanie’s fist would soon come rocketing towards their noses. The girls would be waiting for her, of that fact, she was certain. They’d get a bit pissy at her for setting them up but they wouldn’t dare disobey her direct orders.

“And they really have better saved me some of that cider,” she muttered.

Joanie stopped beside a tall green shrub, smiled and peered through the foliage, her plan was simple, she’d wait until both the greedy bitches had their gobs around the cider bottles before running over there and yelling like a crazed harpy.

She looked past the ceremonial garden and the two paths that separated the shrubs from the fenced off playground. Neither Emma nor Tessa occupied the bench beside the kiddies’ slide. Her volatile temper stayed just under boiling point at the sight of the stolen cider bottle standing next to the legs of the bench. Neither of the bottles looked as though they’d been opened, so the clowns couldn’t have gone that far.

The opportunity to see them both choke may be in tatters but it still gave her the chance to claim the two bottles for her own. She trudged through a bed of bright yellow flowers onto the path and sauntered towards the metal gate that led into the playground area. There was still no sign of either if them. “Fuck them both.” She muttered. “You’ve lost your cider. Finders keepers.” Joanie giggled to herself, she was giving those two way too much credit. Neither of them would be able to stop her if she did claim the two bottles.

Joanie jumped over the low fence and walked up to the bench. She sat down, leaned forward, grabbed the first bottle and unscrewed the cap. Joanie glanced around the park one more time. “Something is wrong with this picture, Joanie girl.” She nodded, comprehension dawning. She lifted the bottle and gave it a shake. “They’ve pissed in the bottle. The dirty little slags must be waiting to see if I take a drink.” She imagined them, hiding behind their own little hiding place, no doubt giggling like retards.

The temptation to throw the cider against the slide died when Joanie realised that they just wouldn’t dare; signing their own death warrants just wasn’t in their nature. “You’re thinking too much again.” Joanie unscrewed the cap, took a tentative sniff before pushing the neck into her open mouth and lifting the bottle.

The sweet liquid, flowing down her throat felt so good, it almost compensated for the amount of shit that karma had dumped upon her shoulders today. Joanie took the bottle away and wiped her mouth. Maybe she was being a bit too hard on herself. If she thought about this, the only real abnormality had been how her gran acted, earlier on.  Why the hell had she given her such a huge amount of money?

Joanie screwed the cap on the bottle and place it next to the other one, then pulled the wad out of her pocket. She still hadn’t counted it. Gran’s place wasn’t that far from here. If she set off now, it would only take a couple of minutes to get there. She really ought to see if her gran hadn’t gone completely round the bend. Joanie fingered the roll of money before pushing it back into her jacket pocket. If she had gone potty, there might even be a chance to rip some more money out of the old bag.

That sounded like a good plan to her. It was obvious that her friends had buggered off, not that it was any skin off her nose, they’d left her the cider, that’s all that mattered. Maybe their mums had rang them and ordered the pair home, yeah that made sense. They’d leave the bottles, of course they would. If either Emma or Tessa were caught stinking of booze, they’d be grounded for a month.

Joanie wrapped her fingers around the money and squeezed then paused as the germ of an idea slowly grew in her mind. “Why don’t you just get your own phone, you silly cow?”  There’d be no frustration of having to abide by her mum’s ridiculous impositions any more. The fact that the old she-bitch wouldn’t be able to contact her just made the idea even sweeter.

Who cared about the home WIFI password anyway? Hell, just how much time did she spend at home, apart from sleeping? Oh, this was one good idea. It looked as though her plans for tomorrow were already set in place now. The first thing in the morning, she intended to have a wander around the town, to see what phone bargains she could find. Those poor sales people wouldn’t know what hit them when Joanie came knocking at their door.

That black cloud had just disappeared all together, Joanie couldn’t remember being so happy. She picked up the fullest bottle and made her way out of the playground, looking forward to paying another visit to her dear gran.

Her preoccupation with finally removing her mother’s ball and chain did not stop Joanie from keeping a look out for her two friends. Her theory about them buggering off after receiving a text or call from their mum fit all the facts except for just one. The cows would have waited for Joanie to appear before scurrying home.

As she approached the main gates, Joanie caught movement just outside the park, beside the road. It was those two alright; she’d recognise Tessa’s tight scarlet trousers and big fat arse stuck up as she kneeled down next to Emma anywhere. What where they doing? Emma looked up as Joanie approached them. They were crowded around a drain cover, she wondered if one of them had dropped something down there. Joanie would just piss her knickers with laughter if it turned out to be one of their phones.

“You’ve lost your share of the cider.” She announced.

Emma gestured her over. “Oh God, Joanie, you just have to see this!”

She gazed at her friend’s flushed excited face. The girl’s large dark blue eyes stared right back at her. “You look like you’ve just had your first orgasm.”

Her friend shrugged, “There’s a little man down here, Joanie.” She moved to one side. “Honest, I’m not shitting you up.”

Had she just heard those words correctly? Joanie didn’t bother retorting, it was fairly obvious that she’d seen something down that drain. The girl was too thick to make up such a weird tale. Joanie hurried over and handed the bottle to Emma. “Don’t even think of taking a sip, I’ve spat in that.” She pushed Tessa out of the way. “If either of you are setking me up here, I’ll drown the pair of you.”

Joanie could make out something moving down there in the gloom, it was too dark to tell what it was though, maybe a small dog or some fucking huge rat. Joanie pushed her fingers through the gaps, gripped the bars and pulled the cover up.

“Be careful.” Tessa whispered.

“Hush it.” Joanie snatched the bottle from Emma’s hand, took another swig before holding the bottle over the hole. She could still see the thing down there, why had it not buggered off? As soon as she had lifted the cover, Joanie had expected it to dart off, further into the sewers. She giggled, not that it bothered her. She gazed at both her friends and grinned. “Bombs away, she said, dropping the bottle.”

The screeches and shrieks that exploded from the drain caused Joanie to stumble into Tessa. That was no animal, the noises sounded almost human. She looked at Emma, expected to see a triumphant smug grin plastered across her face. The girl looked as shocked as she must have looked. “No way,” she muttered. “The drain’s just too small.” Joanie crawled back towards the open drain and peered down.

“Can you see anything?” Emma asked.

Joanie leaned over and saw a pair of tiny brown eyes of glaring back at her. The figure moved into the light and Joanie screamed at the sight of a miniature version of Henry Collins glaring up at her.

Chapter Ten

No amount of self-control could stop his jaw stretching as Albert’s yawn popped his ears and almost dislocated his mouth muscles. This level of tiredness was new, even to him. Just the task of blinking seemed to be too much of an effort.

That woman, his new Special Girl had definitely moved their unique relationship up a few more notches. Albert had decided that there was little point in calling her his Lost Treasure any longer. He didn’t believe that she would be getting ‘lost’ any time soon.

It felt as though she had drained every dreg of vigour from his exhausted body. Not that he’d complained at the time, hell no! God she’d become insatiable, if the power from her sex-drive could be harnessed, she’d be able to light up whole cities.

“Are you still kidding yourself into thinking that she’s only a woman?”

That unwanted thought had recently taken up residence in his thoughts, and like wool caught on barbed wire, no matter what he tried the image just wouldn’t shift.

Despite the blood, gore and abattoir stench, Albert had still succumbed to her overwhelming demands and made love to her. In the back of his mind, he knew that to refuse her advances would have been pointless anyway. As they rolled about in the crimson mess, coating their naked bodies in the old woman’s cold congealing blood, Albert’s self-disgust faded as he watched the woman force his penis deeper inside her. When she cried out in ecstasy, it only helped to inflame his desire and passion.

After what seemed like hours, Albert had been able to prise the woman from his exhausted body and made her sit in a corner while he started on the long process of cleaning up the devastated apartment.

Should Albert have been really that surprised by their actions in that blood soaked room? Death was supposed to be the greatest aphrodisiac of them all. He’d witnessed that on quite a few occasions when he’d been in the army. He sighed to himself, no, that was totally different. His squad mates had got their dicks massaged out of relief, more than anything. Just that overwhelming fear that the next time they were out on patrol, it could be them who’d end up lying in the road in a strange town with their blood flowing down the gutter, had been enough to convince the men to want to fuck anything with a skirt on.

It had taken him a good couple of hours to scrub away the mess that his Special girl had left. As long as no police started snooping around, he should be okay. He’d left the suits in charge of the rest home deal with the mystery of Eileen’s disappearance. They’d be able to come up with some excuse, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. The last thing this place needed was a police investigation.

The clean apartment did help to banish the images of what that woman had done to Eileen. He had no wish to dwell on any of that. Albert preferred to see his Special Girl as some gorgeous slinky sex goddess and not as some kind of inhuman predator that ate people. Going down that road made him think that she didn’t belong to his species.

Perhaps he wasn’t quite ready to go that far but, he had to admit, there definitely something not quite right about her. Oh dear God, do he really allow that thought to breathe? Since when was killing another person and then eating it become acceptable? More importantly, if she really was a mental case and couldn’t control her actions, then what did that make him?

No judge or jury in the land would accept a plea of abnormally high hormone levels and being a slave to his cock. Up to press the worse the authorities would be able to get him with was cleaning up after a murder. Even such an act like that was well within his morally ambiguous code of honour. He could stem this madness in the bud right now, nobody else had to die. It wasn’t too late to back out.

Albert stretched his toes and peered over the edge of the door, spying on his intended target. Who was he trying to fool? Like he really did want to back out of this, the simple fact of it was that Albert wanted the old bastard to die as well. In fact, he intended to watch his special lady to rip old nasty Frankie to bits and just before the light faded from the bastards eye, Albert was going to spit in his face.

Revenge is a dish best served cold and by the end of the day, poor Frank, what was left of him, would be very cold indeed. Albert certainly intended to stick around for the man’s slaughter. More than anything, he wanted to see just how much of Frank, his special Lady would be able to consume.

She had gone mute again after she’d worn him out. He didn’t want to push her into speaking again, he reckoned she’d speak again when she was ready. Albert had so many questions that he just needed to ask.

The bald, sour faced man, sitting opposite Frankie swore again. Albert surmised that the daft old sod had, once again, lost. Albert’s intended victim chuckled before his gnarled hand shot across the battered coffee table and snatched up the collection of cigarettes. It took the man precisely three seconds to make them disappear into his blue dressing gown.

Albert couldn’t see the staff anywhere. He wondered where the nurses were hiding. They’d all been told on countless occasions to keep a very close eye on Frankie. The sneaky old goat was famous for swindling money and valuables from the other residents with his crooked card games.

Jesus Christ, what was the matter with him? How stupid was that question? The last thing that Albert needed right now was for those two goons to show up. The thought of the orderlies making an unwelcome appearance gave him the required incentive to get this unsavoury deed out of the way.

He stretched out his arms and flexed his muscles, some strength had returned but he was still weak. Even so, Albert knew he’d be able to summon enough reserve if the nasty little reptile became unruly.

Frankie’s defeated opponent had stolen one of the high seat chairs from another patient who’d made the mistake of going to the toilet. He was busy gazing up at the television bolted the wall and cheerfully ignoring the woman’s loud accusations. Within an hour, Albert just knew that the poor bastard would have completely forgotten about the card game and would be accusing fellow patients of stealing his cigarettes. If he saw Frankie with them, well, the fireworks would fly. Albert smiled and quietly pushed open the cupboard door, knowing that thanks to Albert’s plan, that future scenario was now unlikely to unfold.

Nobody had noticed Albert step into the common room, not even Frankie. The sly old sod was too busy searching the faces of the other brain dead crumblies, trying to seek out another victim. There was another player in town and this one wanted to take more than a packet of cigarettes. Albert coughed, smirking as Frankie spun around, startled.

The old bastard glared at the janitor but he didn’t rise from his chair. Albert found that a little disappointing, he’d been hoping Frankie would at least have tried to wall him up or at least given him a slice of verbal abuse. Albert sauntered across and sat in the now vacant chair, smiling. “Hello there, Frankie. How are you doing?”

“Fuck off.” Frankie snapped back.

Albert placed both hands on the scratched Formica table and put on his best humble expression. “Listen to me, Frankie. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye in the past but, I think we should try to put our differences behind us.” Albert gazed over at three women sat in the corner reading lifestyle magazines. Two of the women were his previous Special Ladies. He carried on looking at the woman, wishing that this senile fuckstick would hurry up and twig. Maybe he ought to lick his lips?

Frankie leaned forward, “Do you think I’m as dumb as the rest of them? No amount of you pretending to be my bestest pal is going to stop me from setting the law on you. I mean it too. There’ll be no going back to the staff, Albert. You’re going to be locked up for what you did.”

Albert patiently waited for the man to catch his breath; he clearly hadn’t finished chewing him out yet. Albert resisted the urge to yawn.

“You’re just a dirty pervert. Those poor ladies will be scarred for life after what you did to them.”

He stared into the old man’s rheumy brown eyes; he allowed a smirk to play on his lips. “And yet, despite me apparently scarring those poor little girls, which might I add is shite. Just look at them, the poor bitches don’t even know what planet they are on. Despite all that, you could have reported me days ago. Why, why is that, my friend?”

Frankie shrugged, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “Maybe I have.”

“Bullshit.” Albert hissed. He placed his wallet on the table. “Is it money, you’re after? Or is it something else. Like sex perhaps?”

Albert didn’t think Frankie had heard his jibe. His greedy eyes hadn’t moved from his packed wallet. It wasn’t his money, he’d found a pile of rolled up notes whilst cleaning Eileen’s apartment. He slammed his hand on the wallet, breaking Frankie’s trance. Albert pushed back his chair and stood up.

“The money will do for a start, I think.” Frankie said, licking his lips.

Albert pushed the wallet back into his pocket. “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more discreet so we can complete our little business transaction?” He walked over to the exit without bothering to look behind him. He’d gotten the greedy fucker well and truly hooked. He knew that one of his hooks would have sunk in.

He led the old man through the empty hallways, heading towards Albert’s room, ignoring the man’s persistent questions. He doubted that he’d be able to answer even if he wanted to. The fear and excitement had dried up his saliva.

“Okay.” Frankie snapped. “This is far enough, there is nobody around; now give me the fucking money.”

Albert carried on walking, not stopping until he reached the door to his apartment. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink, Frankie? Come on. We should discuss this like civilised men.”

“I’m not moving another inch until I get what’s coming to me.”

The janitor pushed open his door, wishing he could give what was coming to the suspicious old bastard.

“Answer me, Albert. I told you not to treat me like an idiot.” He snarled, backing away. “I’ve played enough poker to know when a bloke is scared, and you, my friend; well, you are fucking shitting your pants.”

Albert shook his head. “Look come on, man. You’re not scared are you?”

Frankie spun around and hurried down the hallway. “I’m coming back, Albert, this time with a few friends.” He looked back. “You’re up to something.”

Albert watched the man scurry away, wondering what the hell he was going to do now, when the wall directly in front of the old man moved. Frankie yelped and staggered back as a section of the wall peeled away. The pale green wall colour reverted to flesh. The janitor backed away as his special girl grinned at Frankie before wrapping both her arms around his frail body and dragged him towards Albert.

Her skin then changed colour yet again, this time to a uniform dark grey. Small ridges and cracks grew and sank along its body. It now looked like a slab or rough stone. He ran into his apartment, unable to take in what was happening to his special lady. Albert slammed the door shut and raced into his bedroom.

“That wasn’t her.” He whispered. “No, it must be something else.” Albert got down on his knees and looked under the bed. “Where are you? Come on, you must be somewhere.” Albert whimpered when his bedroom door burst open and the monster stormed in, dragging the old man behind it.

Its granite like hand clamped over Frankie’s mouth and blood streamed down the old man’s chin. The thing’s rough skin had open cuts and wounds in over a dozen places. The old man’s eyes begged Albert for help.

He tore his gaze away from Frankie and looked up at the huge creature holding the old man. Its startling green eyes viewed Albert with what appeared to be curiosity and amusement. The last time he’d gazed into those eyes were just a few minutes ago. Albert started to cry, “Oh my lord, it really is you.”

The old man’s muffled screams intensified as she punched her fingers into the small of his back and ripped off his shirt. His special girl opened her mouth to reveal two sets of needle shaped teeth.

“Leave him be, please, stop this!” he pleaded. “Oh god, Frankie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean this to happen.” He backed away from her, unable to look away as she pushed her arm deeper into the man’s writing body.

Albert moaned and pushed past them into the living room. He saw the patio door still open and ran out into the cold air. Albert didn’t stop running until he reached the outside of Eileen’s open door. He turned and saw her standing just outside, holding a torn limb in her hand. She took a huge bite. Albert whimpered, watching the blood squirt out of the mutilated arm like a soaking wet sponge. He raced into the empty apartment and threw himself into a corner. What the fuck was he thinking of? She was a monster, an abomination.

“Albert?”

He spun around, shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wall, not wanting to face that nightmare.

“Please look at me, Albert?”

The scent of Obsession filled the air once more.

“I need you, my sweet. Please don’t abandon me.”

Every instinct screamed at Albert not to turn his head but there was no way that he could ignore such a desperate plea. He slowly moved his eyes away from the cream wallpaper and saw only a beautiful naked woman framed in the doorway. The woman looked so fragile, so innocent. She walked a little further into the room and he pushed his trembling body closer to the wall.

“Stay away from me!” Albert cried.

She fell to her knees, weeping. “I’m so sorry, Albert. I can’t help who I am. I thought you were ready to see who I really am. I didn’t want you to be scared of me, Albert. Please forgive me, my darling?” The woman buried her head in both her hands, still sobbing.

Albert crawled over to her and gently wrapped his arms around her shaking body and ran his hands through the woman’s soft hair. “No, it’s me who should be asking for forgiveness.”

“Will you hold me tighter?” She whispered.

Chapter Eleven

Henry had found his usual spot, standing with his back against the wooden partition, which separated the cavernous textile room from the offices on this floor. That ancient clocking machine that hung from the stone wall, opposite him, mocked Henry, emphasizing that he no other choice but to tolerate the company of the others for another three minutes.

He didn’t need the clocking machine to take the piss, not when he had his fellow work colleagues stood around him. They provided a more than adequate job of providing that particular service. The other employees had, as per usual, found their friends and companions and stood in their usual groups. Henry just stayed where he was and tried to make himself think and act as though he wasn’t actually here.

The others tended to ignore him anyway, unless the topic of conversation turned to mocking and they needed him to become an object of ridicule, then of course, he found his personal space mysteriously disappearing.

Two women sneaked a little closer to the clock machine. It didn’t surprise him that Harriet Fowler and Lynne Winters had decided to hog the machine. Those two women enjoyed nothing better than to insult him daily. He had no idea what he’d done to become the major target of their wrath. Henry decided that just breathing was probably enough of an excuse for them.

Henry found his name vomiting from their mouths at regular intervals. Thankfully, the two evil women worked on the floor below his offices so the times that he shared breathing space with them were kept to a minimum.

Any mention of his name, today and Henry would likely to do the one thing that he’d never done before, he’d answer them back. His usual tactic comprised of casually turning his head and staring at one of the many motivation posters that the management had plastered across the wall behind him, while pretending to be deaf. Just like that girl on the bus this morning, he’d always found that was the most effective method of avoiding a confrontation. Not today though. If those two women wanted a confrontation then Henry would be more than happy to provide them with one. After the park bench incident, this lunchtime, he felt that it should be him basking in the glow of an active audience. Henry so wished he could remember what had happened to him. After watching William disappear, his mind had just blanked out.

Today, Henry believed that, his new found bravery could go back into its little box. From what he had heard, so far, Henry would be free from being on the receiving end of one of their many cruel jokes.

Lynne’s attention was too busy with explaining away her daughter’s shocking behaviour to Harriett. Apparently, the girl’s bitchiness had reached a new level of bitchiness. It had even reached to point where Lynne daren’t trust her to run simple errands for her poor mother.

It made fascinating listening. Henry had even offered his own advice. Well, he had in his own mind. He had explained to Lynne Winters that the girl was only emulating her own shocking behaviour and if she expected her daughter to act like a normal human being than perhaps mum should try to show a little kindness to the ones she worked with, namely him.

Henry had never met Lynne’s Daughter, at least he didn’t think he had. Although he did find it a little unsettling to discover that Lynne’s obnoxious daughter and the fat witch who’s hit him with that pie did bear a striking resemblance. It would be ironic if the bitch on the bus were the same girl.

Her friend somehow managed to get a word in to inform Lynne that Harriet’s husband had been acting so strangely these past few days. Apparently, her Alan kept pleading with her to wear Obsession and that his libido had gone through the roof. In Henry’s imaginary conversation, he informed the both of them that his Bernadette loved that perfume. He then shivered to himself. The image of Harriett without any clothes was enough to put him off eating for a week.

He silently moved closer to the clocking in machine, counting down the seconds until he was free of this shithole. The management had put a stop to the staff crowding around the exit at this time. Nobody had seen any of them for a couple of hours now, not that they were missed.

The magic time approached. Henry pushed in before the two woman realised the time, quickly clocked out and scurried over to the exit. The management weren’t the only ones missing. He hadn’t seen William since the incident at the park. He got the feeling that the man hadn’t returned to work. He’d checked his mobile after retrieving it from his locker a few minutes ago. There’d been no message from him nor had William answered when Henry had rang him.

He left through the Mill’s main door and hurried through the carpark. Once he reached the main road, Henry leaned against the wall and tried William’s number one more time. Again, all he received was the stupid woman telling Henry that the number could not be reached. This was just so weird, where the hell was he? Henry sighed and sent him a quick text, calling him a dickhead, before he stuffed the phone back into his trouser pocket.

Bernadette had told him to remind the man that he and his wife were still due over tonight. Henry hadn’t even broached the subject to William, never mind finalised the details. His wife would tore off his limbs for this screw up. Then again, knowing her, she would have already sorted everything out with Debra. She was full of those tricks.

Henry trudged towards the bus stop. Considering what he’d been through today, forgetting something as trivial as that was bound to take back stage. What concerned him more was how he would explain his strange day to his wife without sounding like a total nutcase.

His troubled pondering vanished when his eyes picked out three very familiar figures huddled together under the bus shelter. They had their backs to him but he recognised that pie thrower. He spun around and crossed over the road. He had already stuffed his new found bravery into that box and locked it. Henry had no inclination to open that box, not tonight anyway.

Bollocks, he’d just have to grab a taxi instead. It wasn’t that much of a problem, there was only a couple of pounds difference and the chances were that he’d get home a little bit quicker as well. Henry doubled back and headed towards the mill. Unfortunately, the closest taxi rank was by the side of the building. There was one on the other side of the park, near he nursing home but he didn’t fancy cutting through the park at this hour. Henry turned his head away from the two women on the other side of the road still having their animated conversation. He sighed as the bus drove past him.

It startled Henry to see red taillights as he approached the taxi rank. At first he assumed that the car must be waiting for someone who worked at the mill, until he stopped the plastic roof sign. His face lit up. Henry had expected to be waiting ages.

So much for having shitty luck all day, this had to be a sign that karma had finally stopped crapping on his head. As Henry opened the door, he wrinkled his nose at the sour, stale, rancid stench that jumped off the floor of the taxi and assaulted his nostrils. Despite the gross smell, he climbed in anyway. The chances of another taxi turning up were probably pretty low anyway. It would be best not to piss off karma just yet. He could always hold his nose. Henry shut the car door, it’s not like he’d be in here for that long.

Where do you want to go, buddy? I’m sorry about the pong. I had a bit of a dodgy customer a bit back. Don’t worry though; I got it cleaned up after they left.”

“It’s okay,” replied Henry. “I don’t mind.”

The driver spun his head around, his eyes blazing. “I don’t fucking believe this, it’s you again!” The man reached his arm between the seats, trying to grab hold of Henry. “Come here, you dirty vile pervert!” He snarled.

Henry jerked his body back into the seat while fumbling at the door handle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve only just finished work.” All he saw in that man’s eyes was hate. If he didn’t get out of here, this guy would try to stomp him flat. He slammed his shoulder against the door and spilled out onto the pavement. Henry picked himself up and raced across the road, heading for the centre of town. He hoped to lose this maniac in amongst the few shoppers left at this time.

He dared himself to glance over his shoulder and yelped at the sight of that burly driver quickly clambering out of the taxi. He had never seen the man in his life but it looked like that bloke didn’t share that opinion. Henry ran through the open doors of a discount supermarket, avoiding the curious looks from two employees and hid behind a display of toilet rolls.

The man walked up to the doors of the supermarket. Henry watched him gaze through the window. Through a gap in the comfort soft packs, he saw him smile at one of the employees who watched Henry run in here. He waited for his finger to point to Henry’s hiding place. In his mind, he could already see the damning action take place.

The employee just shook his head and shrugged. Henry’s lungs remembered to start breathing again as the taxi driver turned and hurried to the next shop.

“It’s okay, mister. He’s gone now.” said the grinning worker.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. Mentally thanking Karma for giving him at least one chance to get out of this mess. He counted to five then cautiously walked over to the double doors.

Henry waited for a few more moments before judging it to be safe, he needed to get out of here; it wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of that blond teenager standing behind him. The kid would need to know why the man was after him. Henry didn’t think he’d be able to cope with that kind of intense questioning.

He watched the taxi driver slowly make his way down the high street, pausing to look in every shop window. How long would it be before he gave up and came back to his car? Henry took a deep breath, put his head down, shuffled out of the supermarket, and turned in the opposite direction. The plan was simple. Just keep walking, blend in with the rest of the shoppers. That crazy man would be searching for someone running about, his idea couldn’t fail.

“Come here, you!”

Henry spun around and saw the taxi driver stood in the middle of the pavement, shaking his fist. He imagined that fist crashing into his face and turned back around, narrowly avoiding a pair of young skateboarders heading towards him.

“Sorry.” He muttered. Both the kids just glared at him.

“Fuck off, you freak!”

Half a dozen shoppers were now watching his progress as Henry ran along the pedestrian zone. He did notice that it wasn’t just those skateboarders who were sending out hostile looks. This was so not funny. Why were the people staring at him, as if he was the wrong party in this situation? Well, Henry had finally got his active audience after all, this wasn’t how he’d expected his journey home to be like.

That pissed off taxi driver wasn’t that far behind Henry now. That man sure could move. Henry had spent his whole life running away, even at his age he believed that he was still quite nippy. Henry wasn’t fast enough to escape this man though. This was so unfair. Right now, all he just wanted to stop, to curl up in a ball and wish all this would just go away.

He risked another glance over his shoulder and saw that his pursuer had indeed shrunk the gap between them. Henry needed to do something drastic. That bastard was running him into the ground. Henry skidded to a stop and spun around, he waited until the man was almost on him, then he ran at him, ducking under his floundering arms and veering off at the last moment.

“You dirty little fucker!” screamed the taxi driver.

Henry ran into a pound shop, this time he didn’t stop and hide. He’d chosen this shop for a good reason. A couple of security guards watched his progress as he raced along the middle aisles, three shoppers had also turned to watch as he ran past them.

The back exit was just ahead. This led into the old quarter of the town, where there were plenty of alleys. He and most other locals avoided the place like the plague but, considering his circumstances, a couple of homeless losers and the odd druggie harassing him for spare change were the least of his problems.

He ran down the broken escalator and back out into the bright sunlight. There was nobody about. Henry jogged over the cobbled road and ran into the nearest alley.

The shadows covered him like a welcome blanket. For the first time in years, He actually felt comfortable in the darkness, yet despite the absence of light, Henry had no problem in seeing. Henry turned away from the entrance and peered down the alley. Two rats stared back at him. They stood up on their hind legs, sniffed the air before they both turned and disappeared under a mattress, leaning against the wall. By rights, Henry knew that he shouldn’t be able to see anything at all, it was just way too dark, it seemed that particular rule no longer applied to him anymore.

None of anything made sense anymore. He collapsed onto a pile of bin bags and tried to calm his beating heart. At the end of the alley, he watched as the taxi driver rushed out of the back exit of the shop and cross over the road, the bastard was heading straight for this alley.

The man stopped by the entrance and looked inside.

“Come in here, if you dare.” Henry whispered, under his breath. The image of his pursuer tentatively feeling his way along the pitch-black passageway passed through Henry’s mind. He then saw himself attached the wall like some human fly, and then dropping on the man’s head as he passed him. Henry closed his eyes, grinning and moaning at the sight of him smashing that man’s face against the brick wall. His fantasy didn’t stop when the taxi driver slumped to the ground. Henry saw the other him diving on the broken body and pushing his fingers through the man’s fractured skull, desperate to scoop out his dying muscle.

He snapped open his eyes. “What the fuck is happening to me?” He moaned. The man had gone. “And so has my sanity.”

Why were strangers mistaking him for somebody else?

“You’re not unique. You’re not really Henry.” He clamped his hand over his mouth, shocked at the words coming out. That was bollocks, of course he was Henry, who the hell could he be?

Henry took out his phone, intending to give William another ring. All he needed right now was to hear a friendly voice, someone to calm him down and tell Henry to stop being such a bloody paranoid idiot.

He found himself scrolling past William’s name and stopping on his wife’s mobile number. The phone rang twice.

“Henry, where are you?”

He heard the woman sigh. “Baby, something really strange is happening to me. I don’t know what to do.” The woman sighed again.

“Henry, what you are going to do is come home right now and fuck me.”

The phone fell from his sweaty hands and between two black bags. Henry moaned and pushed his hand between the plastic, shouting in triumph when he found the handset.

“Are you still there?” asked a tiny voice.

“Yes I’m here, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I dropped the phone.” Did he hear her correctly, is his wife demanding sex? “Honey, is there something the matter?”

“Don’t you honey me. Why are we still taking? I’m waiting for you, Henry; I’m naked, in bed and wet. Hurry home!”

The phone went dead.

She hadn’t been near his body since before their caving holiday. He jumped up and ran to the end of the alley and into the street. His wife demanded that he return home, he wasn’t going to say no to that. Henry hurried along the pavement towards the nearest bus stop, grinning.

Chapter Twelve

The sugary smile slid off Harriet’s face as soon as her friend had disappeared around the corner. It felt so strange to hear other noises, like the sound of roosting birds in the trees above her or the traffic rushing past her front door. All she’d listened to all bleeding day was Lynne’s voice rabbiting on in her ear.

Harriet was her best mate so she had done her utmost to listen and offer advice and words of sympathy. Lynne’s caustic bitterness had scraped away all of Harriet’s compassion even before morning break, and yet that women continued to moan on about that damned daughter of hers all through the rest of the day.

Even now, even after Lynne had gone, Harriet could not get that woman’s voice out of her head. She reached into her handbag and fished out the door keys. After eight hours of constant bitching, Harriet still had no clue as to what had set Lynne off. Joanie often came up in conversation. Harriet was used to that, but going postal over her daughter? Now that was a new experience.

That Joanie was a right little madam, a spoilt brat with no manners and a complete Gobshite. Everyone in town knew what a cow she was. That included her own mother. What made the whole situation all the more tragic was that her best mate acted in the exact manner when she was the same age as that little bitch. Harriet had tried to keep that little nugget of information to herself though. Ever since her marrying into money, Lynne had conveniently forgotten about her own unsavoury past.

“What goes around, come around,” she muttered, “ain’t that the truth.” Harriet grinned to herself, remembering how Harriet’s mum used to react when they were teens. She pushed open her front door and stepped inside. If she thought about it, she’d been grateful for the distraction. Her friends all day whingathon had kept Harriet from dwelling on her husband’s bizarre behaviour. Not that she was complaining, mind.

She stooped to pick up today’s post from behind the door. Seeing only brown envelopes, Harriet dumped them on the hallway table, next to the phone. Bad news could wait until she’d had chance to sort herself out. Her first job was to get that bloody kettle on. The tea at work had been even worse than usual. One of these days, she’d take her friend’s advise and start taking a flask to work.

“Like I have time to do that every morning.” Harriet smiled to herself, recalling what she’d found her husband doing to her when she had opened her eyes. Oh no, she certainly had very little time to do anything this morning. She had honestly believed that Alan had given up on doing the naughty business with his darling wife, years ago. It had taken her a while, but Harriet had managed to come to terms with the fact that Alan’s sex drive had come to a virtual stop.

“It looks to me like the motor’s started going again,” she murmured, walking into the kitchen. Harriet flicked the kettle switch down and stood in front of the window, staring at the passing traffic. Of all the possible explanations for this apparent change in Alan’s behaviour, the only one that had made any sense was that her husband had just started his mid-life crisis. It was bound to happen sooner or later, he had reached that age.

Harriet had listened to enough conversations over the years from her fellow workmates at the mill to know that there was bugger all she could do about it. Maybe she ought to stop complaining about it and count her lucky blessings? She’d heard all the tales from the others about their husband’s change in personality had wrecked their marriages or brought them within a hairs breath of splitting up. How would have Harriet coped if her Alan had suddenly decided to waste all their money on gambling or by buying a flash car. She’d even heard stories of husbands blowing a huge amount of cash on collecting stamps or even bloody Lego.

“Don’t forget the biggest change,” she murmured. Harriet watched some young dolly bird, wearing a blue dress that was obviously a size too small for her, walk past the front on the house. Harriet nodded to herself. Oh yeah, her Alan could quite easily have gotten himself a fancy woman. It looked as though, by some bizarre grace of God that she’d be given the best of both worlds.

According to what she’d heard, this switch inside their heads wouldn’t stay triggered for too long, a few months at the most, and her husband should be back to his normal self before she knew it. Harriet lifted up her skirt and slipped her hand inside her panties. She just hoped to fuckery that her Alan would prove to be the exception to this rule. Oh Lord, now that she’d be given a taste of what that man could truly do to her quivering body, Harriet would do anything to stop him from reverting to his old boring self.

He was due back from work in less than an hour. Alan left the house, telling her to expect more fun and games when he came back. She gazed down at the drab mill uniform and decided that a change of clothes was definitely in order. One hour was just enough time to prepare herself to give that husband of hers a very pleasant surprise.

“Oh my god!” she gasped. Harriet removed her hand then crossed her legs. The woman’s mind went into erotic overdrive at the thought of what Alan would be doing to her very soon. She mentally examined the contents of her wardrobe, trying to choose her most revealing clothing. The painful truth was she didn’t really have anything designed just for bedroom wear.

“Bollocks to it, I’ll just not wear any clothes.” She giggled. It would save him time ripping them off her body.

She had noticed that the slapper in the blue dress had disappeared. Harriet was willing to put money down that the young tart down there had a wardrobe stuffed with sexy outfits. Her eyes shifted towards the chip shop opposite her house. That place brought back many pleasant memories. It was such a shame that the shop was closed for redecorating. After her stud had given her a good seeing to, it would have been so nice for Alan to pop over there and bring back them both some fish and chips.

Harriet carefully poured the boiled water into her cup, left the teabag to brew and padded back into the hallway to collect her handbag. Back in the distant past, when they were teenage lover and long before Alan’s sex drive had rode off into the sunset, they always ate fish and chips after making love.

For the life in her, Harriet didn’t have a clue how that little routine had started. Although, she guessed that living opposite the chip shop might have had something to do with it. Back in those dark days, there were no other fast food places in their town, apart from a Chinese and an Indian located just off the high street. She grinned, remembering how she used to look forward to the feel of those hot, greasy chips sliding down her throat while her Alan was busy sliding something else into her other hole.

“Bloody hell, woman!” she gasped, chuckling to herself. “You’ve got yourself worked up in a right lather already. Harriet snapped open her handbag and took out a tiny cardboard box. “This will help get him even more in the mood for sex and chips.” She said, giggling. Harriett had slipped out of the mill on her lunchtime break and nipped into Boots to buy this. She took the bottle out of its box and sprayed both her wrists and her forearms. She’s never been a huge fan of Obsession but if the stuff turned her husband into a raging sex machine then she’d even bathe in the bloody stuff.

She wandered back into the kitchen, her mind going through one more time just what she had in the way of sexy clothes. There must be something up in those drawers and wardrobe that she’d be able to put on.

“You’ll find something appropriate.” She murmured, squeezing out the teabag and dropping it in the pedal bin under the sink. “Oh hang on.” Harriett giggled, remembering that packet of unopened hold-ups thrown at the back of the cupboard. “I bet that he’d like those.”

Harriett picked up her tea and grabbed the perfume as she passed on her way to the stairs. She couldn’t wait to see his face light up as John walked into the bedroom and saw his beautiful wife clad only in the hold-ups and her very thin almost translucent nightie. She sprayed some more perfume in the air then rushed up the steps.

The promise of wild sex was turning her back into a hormonal teenager. “Are you complaining?” she chortled. “Like fuck I am.” Harriett dropped the bottle into her pocket and placed her hand against her chest. “Calm yourself down, heart.”

She took a sip of her tea before placing it on the windowsill at the top of the stairs. “Twenty five minutes to go, lady.” That was plenty of time to get ready. She pushed open her bedroom door and stopped dead at the sight of a diminutive middle-aged man bent over next to her wardrobe throwing her clothes over his back. Being unable to see the man’s face wasn’t a problem, Harriett would know that scrawny frame anywhere. The shock and terror immediately switched to indignation and anger. How dare that bastard go through all her clothes!

“Henry Collins? I don’t believe this! Just what the fuck do you thing you’re doing in my house?” She screamed.

The man jumped and spun around. He glared at the woman then paused, sniffing the air with his head darting from side to side in bird-like movements. The man then returned his hard gaze to Harriet. Her bladder loosened under his intense stare. That mild mannered little man who visibly flinched every time she looked at him was not to be seen. The insane thought that this thing could not be Henry anchored down and refused to budge.

She managed to take one step back without her shaking legs collapsing. Harriet dare not take her eyes off the man. He opened his mouth and she heard a deep rumbling originating from his chest. Oh Jesus, Henry was not growling at her! He sounded just a rabid dog! Harriet tore her eyes from him, spun around and raced into the hallway.

The woman cried out in utter terror when she felt his long arms reaching out and grabbing hold of the back of her blouse. The man jerked her back and wrapped his arms tight around her torso, forcing the air out of her body. She tried in vein to beat him off her but this Henry was just too powerful.

Harriet managed to snag her tea cup, swing it forward and smash it against the side of the man’s head. The grip he had on her, slackened and she rammed both her elbows back. He cried out and fell, taking her with him. She fell out of his hold as soon as the man crashed onto the carpet.

She crawled away from him then rolled onto her back and kicked out with her left foot, feeling the satisfying crunch as her shoe smashed into his nose. “You bastard!” she cried. “You fucking bastard.”

She had to get help. Harriett scrambled to the top of the stairs keeping her eyes on the man. His movements were irregular. Was he dying? Oh god, she fucking hoped so.

“Where’s my phone? Where the hell did I…” The words dried on her lips when the door to the spare room opened and two more men rushed out. They were both identical to the man lying in front of her.

“No way.” she mumbled. “This can’t be happening.”

They both rushed towards her, jumping over their fallen comrade. She staggered back and cried out as each one grabbed an arm and dragged the woman backwards down the stairs. Harriett struggled and screamed, pleading with them to release her. They bundled her through the kitchen towards the back door.

This had to be a nightmare, it couldn’t really be happening! Harriet screamed and struggled with all of her strength as the two men dragged her through the open door and into her backyard.

They both stopped moving and looked at each other before staring at Harriet. “Please, let me go,” she whispered. I’ll promise not to tell anyone.” From the corner of her eye, she spotted something pink rocketing towards her face, before feeling as though she had just slammed her head into a brick wall. One of the bastards had just punched her. Dizzy and nauseous, she felt them drag her through their garden. Her befuddled brain told her that they were heading towards the rear of the high streets shops.

The light went out; Harriett slowly raised her head and found that the pair had brought her into the dark interior of one of the shops. Despite her drowsiness, she recognised the room. This was the backroom of Marion’s sandwich shop. There was no sign of her friend.

The two men still held her tight but neither of them was moving.

“Please let me go? I’ve done nothing wrong to you!” she looked at both of them, they looked like statues, not even blinking. “Marion!” she screamed. “Help me!” she tried in vein to get free but it was impossible, they had her tight. Harriet forced down the hysterical screams, trying to calm down. She hadn’t given up hope just yet.

Harriett listened to the ticking of the clock and looked for anything she could use as a weapon. Then her ears caught the sound of something else. It reminded her of chattering rats. The noise originated from the open door directly in front of her, the door that led to the cellar. She tried to take a step back when the rat noises grew louder. They weren’t rats, Harriett knew of no animal that made a noise like that.

She whimpered as a tiny-clawed hand appeared around the side of the cellar door. The impossible situation now bordered on the unreal when a grotesque figure, the size of a doll stepped out into the light.

It looked similar to the two men holding her, only a foot tall. It crouched and spat at her like an enraged cat.

“Get the fuck away from me!” she screamed.

Three more of the things then joined the tiny man.

“I’m losing my mind.” Harriett cried as the creatures jumped up and down and hugged each other. She then noticed a mutilated leg lying at the bottom of the stairs. Those things were meat eaters! All their claws were clogged with drying blood and pieces of flesh. Their intention was clear, she was about to become their next meal.

Harriett yelled and kicked out; somehow, her foot caught the nearest creature in the head. It tumbled back, falling down the stairs. The remaining creatures all cried out in anger before diving onto the immobilized woman, biting and scratching.

She yelled out, yelling in pain as their tiny needle teeth dug through her thin blouse and cut into the flesh beneath. Harriet jerked her arms and found to her astonishment, that the two men had let her go. She prised the one hanging off her cheek and slammed it into the wall, laughing at the sound of its bones shattering. She then stamped down hard on the one by her foot. Its head splattered like a dropped egg.

Harriett then saw that her captors were on the floor, not moving.

“Are you okay?”

She spun around and gazed into the anxious eyes of her husband. “Alan? Oh my god!” the woman flew into his open arms, sobbing. “What the fuck is going on?”

He gently pulled her off and took hold of Harriett’s hand. He wiped her tears away. “Come on, we need to get out of here, there’ll be more of them racing up those stairs any moment.”

He pulled her out of the back of the house and turned away from their home.

“Alan, where are we going?”

The man turned, slammed the cellar door shut and locked it. “That should keep the things out of trouble.” He pulled Harriet close to him. “Honey, we can’t go back home. I barely escaped with my life. Our house is full of these things too. We need to find somewhere else, somewhere safe.”

“I don’t understand any of this!”

Her husband took her hands. “The whole town is infested with these things.” Alan lifted her head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t look so scared, my darling. I’m here now. I won’t let any of them touch you ever again.”

He led Harriet out through the back door. She could hear those diminutive nightmares scratching at the door.

“What are we going to do?”

“I won’t let them get to you,” he repeated. “You’ll be safe with me.”

Harriet saw a few people on the high street as He pulled her out of the back road. None of them looked that stressed out. There were going about their business as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Alan abruptly clamped his thick hand over her mouth.

“You can’t yell out!” he hissed. “Believe me, none of those people over there are real people any more. If they see you, all of them will act like the others in the back of that shop.”

She looked up into his deep blue eyes, suddenly feeling that uneasy feeling creeping back into her system. “It must be a trick of the light, her husband’s eyes were green.

Alan pulled her across the empty road up to an old cobbled road. She had been through this short cut a few times back in the past. It led right up to the mill gates. Harriet snatched her hand out of his grip. “Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Tell me what the fuck is going on, Alan!”

He smiled at her. It was probably the most frightening sight she’d witnessed all day. He looked over both his shoulders then lunged forward and wrapped his long fingers over her wrists. “Get off me!” she yelled. Alan responded by headbutting her before dragging the dazed woman into a bank of shrubs.

“That nest doesn’t need any more meat.” His features melted and ran like bubbling chocolate. Harriet tried to open her mouth, only to find his hand viciously slam the back of her head into a thick branch. When she opened her eyes, she looked into the face of yet another Henry.

“She told us not to leave our nest,” he whispered. The Henry thing pulled her face closer to his. She just doesn’t understand though. The other two nests have already had their litters and I bet the runaways have whole buildings full of their young. My mistress will reward me for bringing you back, I know she will.” His jaw opened wide to reveal dozens of needle sharp teeth.

Harriet managed to scream out her husband’s name just once before the creature’s teeth sank into the side of her neck.

Chapter Thirteen

Her breath stunk of cheep vodka and Joanie’s cheek still ached like a bastard. That was going to bruise; it’ll make her look like a complete twat. The punch that she took from that man on the bus nearly knocked her into the middle of next week. Neither the pain nor the effect of the alcohol had been strong enough to erase the image of what she saw down that drain.

“I must be going soft in my old age,” she muttered, wincing as she ran the tips of her fingers down her cheek. “Why the hell didn’t I smack the man back?”

Choosing to catch the bus, instead of walking home, hadn’t been one of Joanie’s better ideas. Mixing it with some surly stranger on the top deck who outweighed her by a small car one have climbed into her top ten bad idea charts as well. Looking back, it did make her feel a little better, knowing that she hadn’t really be given the opportunity to crack that bastard. Her two friends had already pulled Joanie off the man, both apologising profusely, she recalled Tessa even explaining to the rest of the passengers that Joanie’s mother had just died.

Neither one of her friends had asked Joanie why she suddenly went psycho on that man on the bus. She guessed that the pair of them must be used to her unpredictable behaviour by now. Even if their balls had grown big enough to pop the question, Joanie wouldn’t have been able to give them a truthful reply. How the hell could she had told the bitches what she had really seen down in that sewer? She couldn’t explain it to herself. Joanie had taken the only choice left for her. She had chosen the largest individual on the bus and given him a right proper gobful.

She leaned closer to her reflection in the hallway mirror, not recognising the pasty-faced little girl who stared back at Joanie. “Come on, who the fuck are you and what have you done with the real Joanie? What are you playing at? You’re stronger than this, don’t you dare think about turning into one of the herd.”

Joanie snatched up one of her mother’s hairbrushes and forced the bristles through her hair, wincing at the pain. She looked like a fucking tramp. Joanie did what she could with her hair then used a couple of wipes to clean the mud of her face. The reflection began to resemble her usual self now.

After the incident at the park, she had stormed off, tuning out her friend’s pestering voices, begging her to tell them what she’d seen down there. Maybe it would have been a lot easier to digest if both Tessa and Emma had shared her vision. That didn’t fucking happen though. As soon as she had squealed like some big pansy, the tiny Henry had pissed off sharpish, leaving her looking like a complete arsehole.

The only time those annoying voices stopped was when she had nipped into the nearest off license, and bought herself a decent sized bottle of vodka. The bastard behind the counter was already to order the three of them out of school shop until the greedy bastard’s big eyes, caught sight of the roll of notes that she had pulled out od her pocket. Joanie had paid three times over the amount to get her bottle but, at that moment, she couldn’t care less.

Even with the vodka down her throat, Joanie elected to keep the sight of that doll-sized person to herself. The girls would have pissed their knickers and fallen about in gales of laughter if Joanie had described what she’d seen down that drain, not to her face, obviously. They weren’t that stupid. They would have waited until she was out of earshot, they may have even spread word that poor Joanie was losing her marbles, going a bit cuckoo. Just coming out with such a comment would have sown the seeds of doubt.

“What a complete fuck up of a day,” she said.

She stepped away from the mirror, her reflection was depressing the hell out of her. By the sounds of the banging, clattering and swearing, emanating from the kitchen, her mum was cooking their tea. Judging from the impressive array of obscenities, blasting through that kitchen door, the old bat wasn’t having a good time of it, which made Joanie feel a little better, knowing that she wasn’t the only one who’s had such a shitty day.

Her mum was too busy fighting with whatever shit she was cooking up to have hear Joanie walk into the house, thank god. She filled her lungs with cinnamon flavoured air, held it for five seconds before breathing out. Joanie needed to get a grip of her feelings. As she turned, Joanie caught her reflection, that frightened child had gone. The woman glaring back at her, looked dead hard, confrontational, someone who you did not mess with, just how Joanie preferred.

Beneath her concrete shell though, well that was a different matter, but once this freaky day was well and truly over, she’d spend a bit of time to get her house in order. The old Joanie would be back, bigger and better than ever, she’d make sure of that.

“Thank god, mum didn’t catch me as I walked in the door,” she muttered.

It had been such a long time since her mum had witness Joanie in her uncovered state. She closed her eyes, thinking back to when she was still a normal little girl. She and Tessa had been playing together in the park. Their fun and games had come to an abrupt halt when three larger girls had decided that it would be hilarious to knock the crap out of the pair of them.

Their long stumbling journey back to Joanie’s home would be forever stamped in her mind. So would how her mother reacted when she saw her daughter and Tessa, their faces covered in blood and tears. They’d both received huge hugs, sympathy and ice cream while Tessa had waited for her mother to pick them up. Joanie remembered wondering what had happened to her mother and why she’d turned into a really nice mummy all of a sudden. She also remembered wishing that the nice mummy would stay forever. The nice mummy had gone as soon as Tessa mummy had picked her up and driven off.

For the first time in years, Joanie wondered what it would be like if she and her mum was a little closer. She imagined her reaching into her jacket pocket and handing over the rest of gran’s money. Her mum would smile at her and give her a big hug.

“You’re getting soft, lass.” She whispered. “You don’t need anyone.” She was living in a dream if Joanie actually believed that the woman would wrap her arms around her daughter. The bitch had no warmth or love for anyone except for herself. “There’s more chance of the daft old bat wrapping her arms around my neck.”

Joanie suddenly stopped. Didn’t that assessment sound very familiar? Just how much love did Joanie have for anyone but herself? Was she turning into her own mother? No, of course she wasn’t. Joanie hadn’t met anyone else to love yet, that’s all. “You’re eighteen next year, lass and you look and act like a thug. Just how many boys are going to find that particular trait attractive?”

The swearing stopped. “Joanie, is that you?”

The girl sighed, not only did she look like a bat, she had ears like one as well. Joanie trudged through the hall. She leaned against the kitchen doorframe and pushed open the door. “Hi mum,” she sais, smiling. “What are you making for tea?”

The woman stopped what she was doing and stared at Joanie, her face was unreadable. She slowly put a half-peeled potato and her knife down on the work surface. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Joanie? I was expecting a sarcastic comment or at least an insult.” She asked walking up to her. “Not even a grunt and did I hear a pleasantry? So, tell me this, stranger. Who are you, cos you aren’t my fucking daughter?”

“I’m sorry, mum, I’ve let you down.” she tried to grin and failed. “Look, I’ve had the weirdest and most stressed out day like ever.” She was about to ask her about the bloke at the mill when her mum abruptly turned and picked up the knife.

“And there’s me actually thinking that you could no longer shock me, Joanie. Right, as you appear to have had a personality transplant and you’ve gone all nice on me, why don’t you do me a big favour and go see where the hell your dad has gone to.” She turned around. “He’s buggered off upstairs. Your dad said he was getting changed, and he’s been up there ages. The idiot’s probably gone to sleep or something.”

“Mum, do you mind if I ask you a question? You know that bloke who you keep going on about at work. You know the one who always gets on your tits?”

“You mean Henry?” She said smiling.

Joanie nodded. “Yeah, that’s his name. In all the time you’ve known him, has he ever done anything, you know, unusual?”

Her mother just gazed at Joanie, a tiny smirk playing on her face. “Why the bloody hell do you want to know about that loser?”

“Please mum, it’s important.”

The woman stared at Joanie. She didn’t think she was going to answer her.

“As Henry done anything unusual? I’ve known his wife and that big soft pudding since school, Joanie. That boring fart wouldn’t know unusual if it bit him on the nose. The man is as predictable as the seasons. His wife though, now she certainly did something unusual.”

“What was that?”

Her mother giggled. “She fell madly in love with that dumb clown and then the silly bitch went and married him. That girl broke a lot of hearts on that day, let me tell you; including your father’s. Nobody has any idea what she saw in him, now go on, stop being weird and go find out where the hell your dad is.”

Joanie watched her mum walk over to the sink, humming to herself. As far as her mum was concerned, their conversation was finished, she’d been dismissed. Maybe she’d have a bit more luck extracting information out of her dad. She tried to imagine her dad lusting after Henry’s wife. No matter how hard she tried, Joanie just couldn’t picture it. Then again, she found it impossible to believe that her parents had ever been young.

She climbed the stairs, wondering just how hard it would be to discover where that loser lived. If he was as predictable as mum said, then the chances were that he would still live close by to where his mum lives. His dad was bound to know where that was. All she had to do is to find out where the first house was and follow the breadcrumbs, it shouldn’t be that difficult. That fucker would soon be getting a visit from her.

There was no point in shying away from a problem and Joanie fully intended to get to the bottom of this mystery. Once she’d sorted him out, her next task was to go back to her gran’s place to learn just why that mad old woman had thrown so much cash at her. Not that she’d give her it back, bollocks to that idea, this cash was hers now.

Her parent’s bedroom door was wide open. “Dad, are you in there?” She waited on the top step for a couple of seconds. Joanie thought it best to announce her presence. Charging in there and seeing her own dad’s bare arse staring back at her would haunt her dreams for decades to come. After waiting for a bit longer, Joanie approached the door and pushed it open a little wider.

“Dad?”

There was no sign. She saw that his clothes were though. He had thrown his work clothes all over the carpet. Joanie stepped into the room, wondering where that stink was coming from. What was dad splashing on his face? No, that smell was not aftershave. That was a perfume, the sweet almost sickly scent brought up a few forgotten memories from earlier toady. This wasn’t the first time that she had noticed the scent of that perfume.

His dad must on the toilet or admiring his face in the mirror. That smell was annoying the hell out of her, especially smelling it in here. She was so tempted to go back downstairs and ask her mum to come up here. Joanie smiled at the thought of her mum laying into her dad and accusing him of having a fancy woman.

She leaned back and noticed the bathroom door wide open. There was nobody in there either. Besides, he always shut the door.

“Dad!” she shouted. “Where the hell are you?”

Joanie walked further into her parent’s bedroom, noticing that it wasn’t just his work clothes spread across the carpet; his casual clothes were mixed up amongst them as well. “Okay, so this is freaky.”

She walked up to the window and gazed down at the sight of their back garden. That was the only area of the house that truly belonged to dad. He spent most of his time either messing with his stupid plants or hidden inside his large wooden shed that he’d built himself. The shed had been the source of many arguments with her parents over the years, she accusing him of building an eyesore that was responsible for bringing the house prices down. He’d responded by adding extra sections to it

“Like he’s in there, Joanie? He’s got no clothes on! Come on, get a grip.” The girl was about to turn away when the shed door slowly opened. “No way!” she exclaimed, starting at the sight of a familiar looking man stepping out of the shed. He closed the door and strolled towards the house, pausing to kick off a few flower heads. “What the fuck?” Shitting hell, that was Henry.

The man then stared up at the window. He saw her, grinned and waved.

Her shout got stuck at the base of her throat when she heard the sound of exploding glass. “Oh no!” she spun around and ran out of the room. “Mum!” she yelled. “What’s happening?” There was no reply. She raced down the stairs, her heart pounding hard against her ribs.

Joanie ran into the kitchen and stared in disbelief at the fragments of broken glass lying across the floor tiles. Joanie picked up her mum’s knife, looking at the tiny drop of bright red blood on the tip of the blade. She moaned and hurried over to the broken window. She saw nobody out there; there was no sign of her mum. What the fuck is going on?

“Mum!” she yelled. “Where are you?”

She looked at the blood on the knife one more time before throwing it in the sink. She raced through the house heading towards the front door. “I’m having words with you, Henry.” She growled. Joanie ran out of the door and leaped over the side fence. She so hoped that Henry was waiting for her, with that grin still spread across his gormless mug. He was going to find himself lying in her dad’s flowers with her on top of him and pounding the fuck out of his face. That bastard was going to supply her with some answers.

The man hadn’t moved. He was still standing in the same spot with his hands on his hips still smiling like a big, stupid clown. When he saw Joanie charging towards her, the man waved at her one more time before bolting to the edge of the garden and leaping over the fence.

“Come back here.” Joanie screamed. “What have you done with my mum and dad? You bastard.” She ran across the garden, jumped onto the fence, and watched him run over the road through the wooden slats. As soon as the man reached the other side, he stopped again. “What is that bastard playing at?” She muttered.

Joanie clambered over the fence and dropped down onto to the other side, watching her quarry setting off again before her feet reached the pavement. She clenched her fists tight, feeling her finger nails dig into the skin. She stepped off the kerb and jumped back in shock as a bus flew past her. “Bollocks!”

The man was almost at the other end of the street before Joanie managed to get across the road. He disappeared into the town’s multi-story carpark but not before turning around and giving her a quick wave. “I’m so going to fuck you up.”

She raced down the street, fuelled by rage and upset, pushing aside the bizarre situation and placing it deep into the recess of her mind. All she needed to do right now was to catch up with that despicable little man and beat the crap out of him. He was going to explain everything to Joanie, her fists would see to that.

It took her just seconds to reach the huge concrete eyesore. She collapsed against the old vandalised sign that used to display the opening times and urgently looked along the protruding balconies, trying to locate the man. Her quarry had disappeared; this time, the bastard didn’t have to decency to wait for her.

“Stop hiding from me, you dirty coward!” she screamed.

The girl then looked back towards her house, undecided on whether she really ought to just go back. It wasn’t as if the weird fucker had kidnapped them and put the pair into his pocket. She nodded to herself, yeah, that bastard was just leading Joanie away from the fucking house!

The girl’s indecision was suddenly settled when a blood-freezing shriek blasted down from the level above her head.

“Dad?” Joanie ducked under the yellow barrier and raced up the ramp to the next floor, her heart thudding. She reached the next level, darted around the corner, and stopped in her tracks, not believing her eyes. The little man stood just a few feet from her. He smiled then casually leaned against the boot of a small car.

“What the FUCK are you playing at?” she screamed.

Henry just carried on displaying that nauseating grin.

“I’m so going to wipe that fucking smile right off your face.” she growled.

He then coughed and raised his arm to point to the ceiling. Joanie followed his direction and yelled out in disbelief and shock at the sight of a naked man thrown over a large cream coloured pipe.

“What the fuck have you done to my daddy?”

Most of the skin from his torso and legs was missing, yet his face had frozen showing a picture of serenity, as though the vile defilation of his body had been of no consequence.

“I skinned your father after I killed him, Joanie.”

Henry grinned again; on this occasion, Joanie saw his teeth now resembled a mouth full of broken glass.

A veil of crimson dropped over her vision. She shrieked and ran at the man when the bastard dared to wave at her one more time. Joanie couldn’t halt her momentum as Henry dived out of the way. She collided against the car, her shin cracking into the car’s bumper. She ground her teeth at the fire-like agony that detonated up her leg. Joanie turned around, sensing the man rushing her. Through tear-blurred vision, she saw him almost on top of her. Joanie lashed out, her fist catching the side of his face.

Henry just grunted and shook off the strike as if it was of no concern and continued to move closer. Joanie ignored the pain lancing down her ankle and booted the man as hard as she could between his legs. Henry grunted again and acted as though the pain didn’t even register.  He leaned forward and rabbit punched Joanie between the eyes. Her head snapped back, it felt as though a professional boxer had just hit her. His fist flew towards her one more time. She jerked her head to the side, hearing the windscreen shatter.

There was no way that she’d be able to beat this fucker. She pulled her body off the car, turned and limped towards the edge of the building, whimpering. Joanie grabbed the metal bar that stopped her from tumbling down onto the pavement below and turned around. He hadn’t finished with her. The man charged her. She waited again, watching him run towards her. At the last second, Joanie dropped to the floor, Henry banged into the barrier. Joanie jumped up and pushed him. The man toppled over the edge.

She heard his body crashed into the ground below. Joanie looked over at the body of her father. “I’m so sorry, daddy.” Joanie turned and leaned over the barrier wanting to shout out in triumph. Dark rivers of his blood pooled out from below his body. There was no chance that he’d been able to survive that. The bastard was dead.

“It’s over.” She muttered. She just needed to find out what he’d done to her mum. Before she could turn away, Joanie caught movement down below from a nearby building. She needed to get away from here, before anybody saw her.

Joanie went completely numb when a single figure peeled away from the shadows and slowly walked out onto the main road, looking up at Joanie.

“No, this isn’t fucking happening!” another Henry walked over to the sprawled body. He crouched down and brushed his fingers through the blood. He then stood up, licked the mess off his fingers and looked up at Joanie. The man waved then pointed towards the building where he’d just walked from.

Joanie shrieked as two more Henry’s dragged out her struggling mother.

“Leave her alone!” She cried.

The three men all waved at Joanie, before diving onto the woman.

Chapter Fourteen

Albert closed his eyes; he counted to five before flicking off the light. The total absence of light still could hide the atrocities in the room. He quickly slammed the door shut then locked it.

He felt his special lady’s arms slowly snake around his torso, her contact helped to suppress the shakes, threatening to turn Albert into a pile of jelly. The woman pressed her face into the back of his head. The oh so familiar smell of that fucking perfume once again assaulted his nostrils.

“Hush, my baby. I don’t want you to be scared. You are doing just fine, my darling.” She whispered.

He felt his head nod up and down; Albert ran his rough fingers along her slender arms and listened to the woman moan with pleasure.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Did you have to kill them all?”

His shaking only increased at the images of the atrocities that she’d just performed in that room. Albert was fucking terrified. Those sweet arms betrayed a hidden strength. It had taken the woman just moments to transform that room into a charnel house.

“You need to clean yourself up, Albert.”

Albert nodded again, vaguely wondering just at what part in their relationship, they had swapped roles. He dropped the key in his pocket, noticing for the first time that wet scarlet gore, covered both his hands. His special lady released him and moved to one side.

“Come on, Albert. Let’s get you looking gorgeous again.”

She turned and glided along the hallway, singing to herself. The woman turned around, “Do you think I have a pretty voice? When we get back to your apartment I can sing to you, if you like.” She winked. “I think you’ll like that.”

He followed, hurrying to catch up with the woman. He watched her sway from side to side, showing off her fantastic figure underneath that tight, light blue summer dress. His mind then slipped a gear when he saw that she didn’t have a single fleck of blood anywhere upon her, that dress looked as though she just taken it out of a wardrobe. His mind slipped another gear when Albert remembered that she was wearing a yellow dress before she entered that room.

Albert decided not to dwell on the subject. His poor brain had enough to cope without any added anomalies. The turning point in his special lady’s behaviour had happened just after she had killed Frankie. She had become more animated, less clingy, and somehow much more human. He had yet to miss the old version of his special lady, her constant demands for sex was wearing him out. Somehow though, he doubted that his self imposed celibacy would stay strong for much longer. His brain, battered by her pure savagery should be pleading him to just turn and run from this monster, to run until the strength in his legs failed him; yet just gazing at that gorgeous shape sway from side to side as she walked just made him hard for her again.

“Come on, Albert.” He whispered. “Sort yourself out.”

He stopped and removed his gaze from that vision of beauty and looked back at that locked door. Sure that he’d heard one of them move. Albert groaned, he ran across to the doorway on the over side, he dropped to his knees and vomited. “I’m so sorry.” He said, wiping his mouth. “I didn’t want anyone to die.”

“Albert, come on! We need to get you cleaned up. She glided over to him and picked Albert off the floor. She looked down at the semi-digested food splattered against the woodwork and sighed. “You poor baby, what you need is a nice soak. I can scrub your back for you, that’ll help you feel much better.” She purred.

He could not believe it that despite everything that this fiend had done, his body still responded to the sound of her sultry voice.

“I see that you’d like me to sort you out and clean you up.” She said, grabbing his head and giggling. “We’d better hurry up as well. According to you, we don’t have too long.”

Nobody else was due to arrive for at least another hour when the first of the night crew started their shifts. According to his special lady, that gave them plenty of time to complete her jobs. He’d pressed for more information but she just smiled and winked.

His special lady gently dragged him away from the door, he continued to stare, wondering how he’d react if that door handle moved.

They had found most of the employees lounging about in the staff room. As a general cleaner, his kind were dissuaded from using the facilities in there, the staff only seemed to apply this unofficial rule to him though. This discrimination used to bother him, until, that is, his special lady appeared in his life.

The five women had all turned around at the sound of Albert coughing. He framed himself in the doorway, taking his time to stare at them all one by one. Their casual disinterest and scorn soon turned to surprise when the woman squeezed past Albert and sauntered over to the nearest woman.

Albert had known Julie Hardy for most of his life. They’d gone to the same school together. He fucking despised the bitch and he knew that her feeling for him was of equal intensity. His special lady threw him a single wink before placing her arms on Julie’s shoulders. Everybody in the room, including Albert, cried out in horror as the woman began to change.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away as her beautiful smooth skin stretched and tore as hard, rough, ridges and bumps push up. The combined shrieking broke him out of his reverie and as instructed; he jumped out of the room and slammed the door shut, locking the creature in with the women. He slid down the door, feeling the thumps as the women slammed into the other side.

It had taken the woman just moments to silence them all. He’d heard her scratching on the other side of the door, asking him to let her out. The janitor had just sat there, tears running down his cheeks, until she’d lost patience and pushed open the door herself, flinging him to the other side of the corridor. He stared in horror at the carnage while she merely licked her lips and politely asked the janitor to take her to where the other staff members would be. Like an obedient dog, he’d taken her to every one and watched in silence as she casually slaughtered them all.

“Are you okay, Albert?” she asked. “You’ve started to shake again.” The woman pulled him into his apartment and placed him beside his bookshelf. “I won’t be a minute.” She said, kissing him on the forehead. “You’d better get these clothes off you, Albert; you’re starting to smell a bit.”

His special lady padded into the bathroom, he gazed down at the front of his gore soaked clothing and started to cry, there was no way that he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. “I can’t do it.” he whispered. “I just can’t.” His numbed mind cleared just for a second and Albert saw a picture of himself in that soaking hot bath. She was nowhere to be seen but that was okay, because next to him, stood a three quarter bottle of Jack Daniels.

He turned towards the kitchen, smiling. His saviour was just in there, hidden away at the back of the cupboard behind a box of cornflakes. His special lady could go do whatever the hell she needed and he could stay here, behind a locked door and drink himself to oblivion.

Grinning, Albert hurried through the living room, he kept his head facing forward, not wanting to look into the bathroom. Already, his fevered mind was showing him pictures of the woman bending over, testing the water and wriggling her pert bottom. The man stopped dead at the sight of movement inside his kitchen. Had she moved? He spun around, Albert could see into the bathroom, but he could hear her humming a tune.

“Hello?” He hissed. “Is there somebody in there?”

Albert screamed out in shock when a large man, wearing a dark brown suit, burst out of the kitchen. It took a few moments to realise that this bedraggled middle-aged man was the home’s deputy director. His eyes swivelled like ball-bearings not focusing on anything. That soon changed when Albert’s bloodied hand caught the handle of a china cup and it fell from the dresser and smashed onto the pine floor.

The man’s eyes found Albert. He looked up and down, taking in the janitor’s appearance and roared. Albert then saw he had one of his knives wrapped tight in his podgy hand.

He found himself lying in a heap against the wall, confused and dizzy. He shook his head to clear the nausea and saw the deputy director running out of his apartment with his special lady just behind him. The woman growled and leaped forward, wrapping both her hands around his thick neck. He staggered forward, trying to rip the woman off but she held on with the tenacity of a terrier.

She then slammed her forehead against the top of the man’s skull and he dropped to the floor. The woman grabbed his hair and slid the groaning body along the tiled floor and back into his apartment.

“Albert, stop staring, it’s rude.” The woman dropped the man and shut the door. “Go, go get in your bath.”

“Albert? Oh Jesus, Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to die.”

His special lady sighed she walked back over to the man and kneeled down by his head. “I think you’ve said enough.” She said, grabbing the side of his head and slamming it against the floor. Just like Albert’s china cup, the man’s head cracked open.

“I won’t tell you again.” She growled.

He shuffled back until his reached the doorway. Albert closed his eyes and turned around, not wanting to see the contents of the man’s head spreading out across his floorboards. It took him a few minutes to undo the slime smeared buttons but eventually, he succeeded. Albert felt a perverse sense of accomplishment when he finally removed the last piece of his clothing.

It took a moment to realise that the woman had filled the bath with cold water. He looked back towards the open door; he shook his head and climbed in. The cold water helped to clear his mist shrouded head. The man closed his eyes and slid down, submerging his head.

The distorted sounds of his special lady dealing with the director reached his ears, he dare not raise his head, Albert didn’t want to ear the woman chewing on the man. He slowly began to count, when he could no longer breathe, he’d open his mouth and allow the water into his body.

The sounds stopped and so did his ability to hold his breathe for any longer. He readied himself then opened his eyes, to find the woman’s face just inches from his own. He opened his mouth to scream and panicked as the cold water rushed down his throat. Albert found his body lifted out of the water.

“The water’s not very warm.” She said, seemingly unconcerned that Albert couldn’t stop coughing. “I should have used hot water.” She patted him on the back. “Doesn’t matter though, we can still use it to clean you down.”

Albert took a deep breath and for the first time, he wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze out her monstrous life. She undressed and climbed into the bath and sat down in front of him.

“The water’s turning pink, Albert.” She used her warm hands to run liquid soap into his skin. “You have done very well, so far. I just knew that I had chosen the right man. You should be proud of that fact, Albert.” His special lady dragged her fingernail down his chest. “Of all the men that live in this town, my sweet, you were by far the strongest, most virile and, of course, you are very cute. I’m so proud of you, Albert. I know that your head must be just bursting with questions.”

His lungs hurt too much to think of a reply. Albert watched her hand dip into the water and felt her fingers wrap around his flaccid penis. He just wished that he’d had the courage to just open his mouth as soon as he had ducked his head under the water. He would be at peace by now. His miserable life and all his problems would be finished.

“Very soon, the rest of my tribe will be here. I can sense them all quickly approaching. They are all so hungry, Albert.”

He gazed into her immaculate face and wondered if the other females all looked like his special lady. How would he tell one from the other? He then imagined more of her kind rampaging through the buildings. Apart from Frankie and the old woman, they left the patients alone. Now he began to see why.

“I am their queen, Albert. Before we migrated, the others would not dare to go against my wishes. My wish is that these patients all belong to me.” She tightened her grip on his penis. “They’re coming here to feed, my sweet. Time is getting short.” She released him and climbed out of the bath then gently lifted the man out. She pressed her wet body tight against his. “If they find you here, Albert, they’ll eat you as well.”

Chapter Fifteen

Henry Collins stopped just before he reached the end of his street and watched a bright yellow sports car drive past. He turned and watched it speed along the empty road, going way past the speed limit. He shook his head and sighed, wondering just what was so important. He had never even thought about learning to drive. It just seemed like a huge waste of time and money.

Then again, even if he had been insane enough to decide that throwing his hard-earned money down a drain was a splendid idea, he still wouldn’t have dreamed of splashing out on such a flash car. He’d never been very comfortable with anything that could draw attention to himself. Just keeping his head down and getting on with whatever life threw at him had always been the safest bet.

He turned onto his street after the car had disappeared around the corner. At the last minute, Henry had decided to walk home instead of waiting for a bus. He had no desire to bump into anyone else on a bus that may or may not mistake him for somebody else. Thinking about the hassles that he’d been given, he should have just swallowed his uncertainty had caught the bloody thing anyway.

Henry lost count of the amount of complete strangers who’d shouted out his name, threatened to hit him or just glared at Henry on his journey home. What the bloody hell was going on? The bizarre behaviour had certainly blunted his desire to get his rocks off with his wife. He grinned, well maybe just a little bit.

An ice-cold shiver shot down the length of his spine when his mind dragged him back to a few months ago. Henry groaned, remembering the complete panic that had grabbed him when they’d became separated from the tour guide on that caving holiday. He reached out and grabbed a garden fence with both hands to stop him from falling. Henry could sense a huge bubble of strange and alien thoughts, trying to break to down his barrier and flow through into his conscious.

“Stay down there, you bastards,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to know how we managed to get out of that fucking cave. It really doesn’t fucking matter.”

Henry put the experience back into its own mind compartment and jogged towards his house, not giving a shit if any of his neighbours saw him running, they could all fuck themselves. He’d had enough of people glaring at him today to last him a lifetime.

Hopefully, in another few minutes, He would by exploring another dark cave; he intended to stay down there for a long time and didn’t care about getting lost. With a bit of luck, this sudden change in his wife’s sex life would be permanent.

“Good lord, I hope so.”

Henry jumped over his gate and hurried up the garden path. He stopped under the porch and looked up towards his bedroom window, grinning like an idiot. Henry gently pushed open the front door, and decided against shouting out his wife’s name. He wanted to surprise the woman.

The clock on the wall informed him that despite walking home, he’d still made pretty good time. He’d have probably got home only a few minutes earlier than now. “It doesn’t matter.” Henry whispered. “Good things come to those who wait.”

The scent from her favourite perfume, drifted in from the living room. The woman was definitely in the mood for some serious action. Bernadette knew just how much the smell of Obsession turned him on. He checked out all the downstairs rooms first before climbing onto the first step. From where he stood, Henry good just about see their bedroom door, she’ll be already in the room, probably spread out on the double bed, wearing very little clothes, waiting for him.

He couldn’t believe how excited she’d got him with that one phone call. All the problems and strange events that had plagued him since this morning all seemed inconsequential and unimportant. Henry slowly climbed the stairs, still keeping as quiet as a mouse. When the man reached the top step, he turned and saw that their bedroom door stood slightly ajar. He saw the foot of their bed; he also caught a flesh of pale skin. Henry thought his grin was going to split his face in two. She was certainly in there.

The man’s heart almost stopped beating when the sound of urgent panting reached his ears. This was just unreal; the woman had already starting without him. He could hardly believe his luck, this was turning out to be better than he imagined. He ran over to the door and pushed it wide open.

Henry’s grin slipped from his face at the vile sight of his Bernadette kneeling on the unmade bed while the large hands of his best friend gripped her hips tight as he repeatedly slammed his own naked body into hers. He watched, fascinated as the man’s sweat drip from his forehead onto her smooth back. The man had his eyes tight shut. He was smiling.

He listened to them both groaning, panting and occasionally, Bernadette let out a soft moan. Henry remembered that noise, she was close to orgasm. It used to take him hours to get her to the stage of climax. Those alien urges rose up once more; this time, he allowed them to burst through into his enraged mind. Henry lifted up both his hands, a little unnerved to see the tips of his fingers slowly expanding, hardening and growing into long hooked claws.

His only desire now was to push the claws deep into William’s back. Shearing through the tender flesh and pulling all the claws down until he reached his thighs. He growled at the back of his throat and advanced on the rutting couple.

The man must have heard Henry’s growl. He spun around and yelped. “Oh fuck. Oh hell man, look, Henry, I know how this must look to you.” He attempted to climb off the woman but Bernadette had turned around as well and wrapped both her legs around William’s thighs.

“Henry, don’t just fucking stare at him, you spineless fool.” She shouted. “Come on, kill the bastard!”

Their struggle mesmerised Henry, he stepped across the threshold and slowly approached the pair, noticing that the claws had grown another inch. He raised them up in front of his face, still not quite understanding how he could be changing. The knowledge was there, now pushed against a thin obstacle.  William’s terror struck face drained of blood. The woman behind the man chuckled.

“You are so close to remembering what you really are, Henry. I can sense your bewilderment. Just let your true feelings float to the top.”

Henry caught his breath, he gasped as his thought just detonated and filled his mind with a cascade of alien and bewildering images full of blood and rending flesh and of deep, dark passageways.

The woman sighed, “Oh yes, there you go. Now come on, Henry. Rip this bag of meat apart, let’s dine in style.”

The man suddenly froze when the sound of a high pitched shriek filled the room. Henry forced his hands down to his sides.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Henry staggered to the side, spun around, and found himself face to face with another Bernadette glaring at William’s naked body. Her face went through an assortment of expressions when she saw the naked woman. “This has got to be a fucking dream.” She muttered.

The naked Bernadette opened her legs and pushed William off the bed. He picked himself up and scrambled around the carpet, picking up his discarded clothes. Henry watched trying to force both his feet into one trouser leg before turning his attention back to the two women.

“It’s been a while since I saw you.” the naked woman said. “Did you really think that you’d be able to flee from our tribe?” she laughed. “You did, I can see it in your pretty little face. You should have known that we would have come looking for you two.”

“You’re, you’re me?”

“Ain’t you the fucking smart one? There’s a good reason why we had to feed you two runts animal scraps.” The woman climbed off the bed. “You just can’t process quality meat. I remember voting to end your miserable lives but, I was ignored.” The woman sighed. “It’s not too late though.”

Henry watched her skin start to split in over a dozen places, revealing rigid plates of dark brown bone like material. He heard William moan and dart into the corner of the bedroom.

The fully clothed Bernadette took a step forward into the room and looked over at Henry. “I remember now.”

He nodded. “So do I.”

“Get out of here.” Bernadette looked at the shaking figure beside the bed, “and you, William, move it.”

The man was already halfway dressed. He reached across the carpet, grabbed his shoes and pushed past both women.

“I love you, Henry. Don’t forget me.” Her skin began to roughen up as well. “It was great while it lasted.”

Henry’s old survival instinct rose to the surface. He ran through both women and dived out of the door. The other man had already reached the bottom of the stair. Henry saw him just stand there, gazing up towards him. The two women had now fully transformed into their original appearance. They both resembled lumps of granite, carved into a rough human form. That’s just what he looked like beneath this fragile coating of soft tissue. They silently ripped into each other, tearing off pieces of each other’s flesh. He watched the fight for another few moments before grabbing the handle and closing the door. If either of them saw him observing, his life would be measured in seconds. Their rage had already reached its height. If either of them saw him, they’d both kill him and then fight over his carcass.

Henry turned around and slowly walked down the stairs, allowing the man’s grovelling apologies to wash over him. Somehow, his best friend’s betrayal now seemed a little insignificant.

“She promised me that you wouldn’t be home for bloody hours. She said you’d gone out on an errand. I honestly never meant to hurt you, Henry. You have to believe me.” William fell to his knees. “How was I supposed to know that your wife had an identical twin sister? Of fuck, I mean. Bollocks, that didn’t come out right.”

Henry gazed at his hand then slammed it against the wall, feeling the plaster crumble beneath his skin, watching in fascination as it slowly changed colour to match the wallpaper, even down to the texture. “William, forget about it. She wasn’t even my wife. Neither of them are.” He looked in amusement at the man staring at Henry’s hand. William’s jaw looked as though it was hanging by a thread. “You seem a little distracted.”

“What the hell are you?” He stammered.

He took his hand off the wall, watching fragments of crumbled plaster fall onto the carpet. He walked down the remaining steps, pleased at seeing William stumble over to the outside door.

“Henry and Bernadette are both dead, William. They didn’t get out of that cave.” He sat down on the bottom step. “I don’t have a clue what we are called. Neither the tribe nor our species have a name. Well, at least they never bothered to share it with me of my sister.”

“Wait, you mean your wife is your sister as well?”

Henry sighed.

“The others in our tribe shunned us. We were the weakest, the runts. All we had were each other, William. They left us to fend for ourselves. We mainly scavenged or sometimes stole from the other members of the tribe.”

“We were at the base of a crevice when the unthinkable happened. It was our favourite place to look for food, William. A huge colony of bats used to roost at the top of the crevice and every so often a young bat, one that had yet to master flight, slipped and fell, getting stuck in the accumulated layers of bat shit. The two bodies landed right next to us.” Henry shrugged. “Both myself and my sister knew that we should have just left them there and moved away before the rest of the tribe had climbed their down. We were looking at sacred meat. Even if we took a single bite, the others would have slaughtered us on the spot. We could hear them skittering down the walls.”

William pushed his feet into his shoes. “This is so hard to take in, man.”

“The last meal that I had was a rotten lizard egg and I gave most of that to my sister. We both looked at all that meat, our stomachs growled. My sister looked at me and I looked at her. All that meat just lying there, we couldn’t help ourselves.”

William screamed out when something crashed into the bedroom door.

Henry stood up. He looked up, towards the door then walked past William. “Are you staying here? It’s likely that they will both tear each other to bits. If one of them does survive though, she’ll be very hungry.” He opened the door and stepped out into the garden. The others were spread around the town, he could smell them now. “William, there’s something you should know. Our tribe isn’t just here to look for their missing tribe members. Despite there not being that many of us left, the others couldn’t really give a shit about us two.”

“How many of you are there?”

“There are four females in the tribe and about twenty males of various ages divided up amongst two of the females. Our queen has no males of her own, she just takes whom she wants.” He reached across and dragged William out into the garden. “I like being Henry. I have no intention of going back there. Whether you like it or not, you, my unfaithful friend, are going to help me get rid of them.”

The man’s head jerked up and down like a nodding dog. “Yeah, sure man. Anything you say. Wait, you just said that they couldn’t give a shit about you or your sister? Well, what are they really doing here?”

“I guess they may have started out searching for us in order to punish us for leaving the nest but their objectives have completely changed. We are a dying race, William. Unfortunately, for you, our species is very adaptable. They are here to stay and they only desire to do two things. They need to feed and breed. I sense that some of the yearlings have already hatched and you need to believe me, William. Our young are always very hungry.

Chapter Sixteen

It had taken Thomas Brown over an hour to stop him from wanting to smash anybody and everybody who dared to come within a few feet of him. He’d lost a lot of custom and money because he daren’t do any pick-ups. By the time he pulled into the supermarket carpark, his raging fury had cooled down

He’d earn the money back, not that he’d lost that much, the afternoon drops were neither that busy, just the fact that, somehow, that bastard had managed to evade him twice really got under his skin. Thomas was a taxi-driver. He knew this town like the back of his hand. Thomas was positive that he’s seen that guy before; that meant he must be a local. He was a patient man, their paths would cross again, he was sure of that fact. He cracked his knuckles. The slime ball would regret the day that he pissed off Thomas Brown.

Thinking back, Thomas did find it a bit odd how the second time, the goon seemed to be a completely different person. That didn’t make sense, unless, of course, the time around, the fucker was off his tits on drugs when he’d decided to get into the back of his cab.

Thomas climbed out of his taxi and locked the doors. The poor pick-ups would soon change. In fact, tonight should be his most profitable one of the week. That certainly helped to lift Thomas out of his black mood. In just over a couple of hours, most of the town’s older population will be getting ready to leave the town in droves, all heading for the huge bingo complex five miles north. They’d opened the place a few weeks ago and as all the local dears all knew Thomas, the cash just rolled in.

He’d be guaranteed to be booked solid until past midnight. The prospect of some extra cash always made him a happy puppy. The blue rinse brigade weren’t tight with their money, especially after a few sherries and a good win. They’d give him a generous tip. Thomas could turn the charm on and off like a tap when he need to.

A busy night though, meant that he’d have to sacrifice having his usual meal. He’d not be able to stop for food until past one. That didn’t really bother Thomas too much as his favourite restaurant stayed open until three in the morning. As one approached, Thomas would be definitely ready for his chicken madras; in the meantime, he’d just have to keep his body fuelled with a generous amount of energy drinks.

He looked at the car driving into the parking spot beside his taxi. He hadn’t seen this motor around town. Not many folk round here could afford a bright yellow Aston Martin. Thomas had no doubts that the owner must have had it re-painted. No way was that it’s original colour. The bloke inside opened his door and grinned at Thomas. He smiled back. “That, sir, is one gorgeous looking car.”

The man smiled back. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’m guessing that’s not the original colour?”

The man climbed out of the driver’s seat. “No, mate. I had my baby re-painted last year.”

Thomas nodded, wishing that he had put enough money away to afford such a gorgeous car. He seemed like a decent enough bloke but a bit posh for the likes of him. Thomas couldn’t imagine the fellow having a laugh in the local boozer while knocking back pint after pint. “Like I said, it’s a nice car. Look after your self, mate.” Thomas turned and wandered through the double door before the man had time to respond. He picked up a basket and shook his head, sighing at the sheer number of people in the place.

His mind boggled at the vast amount of the nearly dead, slowly shuffling their way up and down the aisles. He walked into the foyer and nodded at the bored looking security guard, sitting on his platform between the doors. The place may have been busier than usual but it wouldn’t take him too long to get what he wanted.

Thomas knew where they kept the drinks and unlike his wife, he never felt the urge to walk up and down every single aisle. He hurried past the first two aisles, noticing quite a few familiar faces in the building. He’d be picking up a few of the old girls up soon and probably taking them back home too. Passing the self-service checkouts, Thomas saw three pensioners scanning bottles of cheap spirits. That made him giggle, it all made sense now. The blue rinse brigade must be loading up on booze before they hit the bingo hall. Bloody hell, he thought it was only teens and tweens who got up to that trick.

He stopped beside an ice cream cabinet and moved to the side to allow a pretty blonde employee to pass him. Thomas watched her progress as she walked over to the customer service desk. That bright yellow uniform did not exactly compliment her figure. The guy from the sports car had also clocked the girl; her uniform would go nice with that car of his.

The girl reminded Thomas of his step-daughter, in looks anyway. Tessa was as pretty as a picture but she really did have a vile personality. They hadn’t seen eye to eye ever since Thomas married her mother seven years ago. Thomas and her mother were due to bring up the dreaded word of ‘work’ tomorrow night with her. He knew that conversation would go down as well as a cup of cold vomit. The girl fully expected to live off her mother for the next few years.

She wouldn’t be seen dead working in a place like this. Although, knowing her, she’d probably have a go at chatting up the guy with the flash car. Come to think of it, so would his wife.

That reminded him. The woman promised Thomas that she would send him a text as soon as she got out of work. He couldn’t recall his phone vibrating. He took his phone out of his back pocket and stared at the no messages icon. His Maddie worked at the huge mill on the other side of the town, close to where they lived. She’d got the job as one of their operations managers a few years back. The money was good, a lot better than what he earned but she did have to put in a stupid amount of hours.

It was now past nine, the woman should be out of the mill by now. Maddie very rarely worked after eight. Thomas started to compose a text when someone pushed past him, jerking his arm. He looked up to see the security guard running up the next aisle. Most of the shoppers hadn’t noticed the running man but Thomas saw that several members of staff were hurrying towards the back of the store.

“Could all customers please leave the store by the nearest exit, please?”

The posh bloke dropped a newspaper on the floor after the announcement was over. He didn’t run over to the door, instead, he saw Thomas and ran up to him. “Can you sense the atmosphere, man? Something weird is going on in here.”

He looked over to the doorway. “Why didn’t you leave?”

The man shrugged, “Dunno, why haven’t you?”

I’m Thomas, by the way.” He said, grinning.

“Derek. Look at them; we’re not the only ones who have ignored the lovely but scared voice.”

All the manned checkouts were now empty. The employees were running along the back wall, trying to herd as many customers as they could, towards the front of the store, but the over a dozen old folk were still queuing behind the self-service checkouts, patiently waiting to use the machines.

“Where did that security guard go, Thomas?” The man brushed his hand through his thick black hair, “There’s no fire alarm going off, so we can rule that out. It’s a bit too dramatic for a shoplifter.”

Thomas nodded in the direction of the next aisle. “He ran up there.” He peered around the corner, an overturned shopping trolley lay across the aisle halfway up but there was no sign of the guard or anyone else.

“Oh bloody hell!” Derek gasped. “Can you see that?” He rushed past Thomas and dropped to his knees beside the trolley. “He looked over at Thomas. “I think the lad’s stuck. I need your help, man!”

Thomas jerked his head over to his side when a shrill scream blasted out from the far side of the checkout bays, it appeared to be two kids attacking an old man. The man was beating them with his walking stick while an employee was trying to pull one of them off the man’s back.

“Oh Jesus!”  Derek shouted.

Thomas watched his new friend jump back, shaking. His face had gone milk white. Derek glanced over at Thomas and shook his head.

“We need to get the fuck out of here.”

Thomas raced up the aisle and saw that Derek had managed to pull the man halfway out from under the fixture. He couldn’t see why he’d stopped. “Are you okay, mate?”

“He won’t be able to answer you.” The trembling man behind Thomas muttered.

It was definitely the guard, he saw the security firm’s logo embroidered on the man’s trousers. Thomas bent over, placed both his hands around the guard’s ankle and pulled him further out. A low moan escaped Derek’s mouth as Thomas’s exertions revealed more of the body.

Three kids ran down the aisle, screaming. Two of them pushed Thomas out of the way; their sudden appearance took him by surprise, they knocked off the guard and he wheeled back, falling onto the man behind him. The other kid leaped over the security guard’s body.

“We need to follow them out of here!” The man grabbed Thomas’s head and forced his gaze away from the fleeing kids. “Look at it, man. The man hasn’t got a fucking head”

Several ragged pieces of bloodied, wet flesh attached to the man’s neck were all that remained of his head. A dark lake of blood slowly seeped out from under the fixture. Thomas couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mess; his brain could not process the images. He started when he felt a single digit prodding his side.

“What the fuck are they?”

He followed the man’s shaking finger and saw a dozen small creatures clambering along the top of the fixtures, leaping up and grabbing hold of the pipes fastened to the ceiling. Two of the things were holding what looked like footballs. It wasn’t until one of the footballs spun around and Thomas saw a face when he realised just what they were carrying.

“I must be dreaming.” Derek muttered. “This can’t be real.” He thrust his hands deep into his pockets. “Bollocks, I’ve left my phone in the car. We need to ring the police.”

Thomas nodded, he then turned to watch the creatures run across the top of the pipes, the vague idea that these things were some sort of rare monkey escaped from a zoo vanished when one of them stopped directly above the two men and hissed at them. “Okay, so the supermarket’s been invaded by flesh-eating leprechauns.” The creature scuttled away. “You’re not the only one who’s fucking dreaming, mate.” He got off the floor, averting his eyes from the mutilated body. Thomas looked down at the man; then helped him up. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The man sighed and nodded. Thomas then watched Derek’s eyes roll up. He pushed Thomas to the side and put wrapped his arms over his head. Thomas heard a high-pitched squeal and saw a flash of pale cream skin as one of the creatures jumped off the top shelf and landed on Derek’s face.

He growled and grabbed its body when it tried to crawl down the man’s chest, shuddering at the repulsive slug-like texture. Thomas ripped it off and slammed the creature into the edge of the shelf, feeling an enormous sense of triumph when its body went limp. He threw the disgusting animal onto the floor and wiped his hands down his clothes.

Thomas ran across to the other side of the aisle and pulled a wooden brush handle off the shelf. “Derek? Look at me, man.” When he turned his head, Thomas threw him the improvised weapon. “It isn’t a shotgun, but it’s better than nothing.” He pointed to the roof. “We won’t make it out of here unarmed.” Thomas grabbed one for himself.

The whole situation was just fucking not possible. He’d got out off his car and wandered into the twilight zone. Thomas watched one of the little bastards drop onto the face of another woman by the self-service checkout. She fell to the ground beating her head. It didn’t matter though, what did matter was just how close he’d been to locking up. Thomas had almost died. He ran his closed hand along the smooth wooden pole. “No fucker is getting one over on me.” He hissed.

He watched the other man walk in the direction of the exit. “Derek. You’re going the wrong way.”

“No I’m not.”

Thomas turned and ran to the other end of the aisle. There were dozens of the things dropping down from the ceiling; they were mainly attacking the older people. He looked to see Derek was now behind him. “These folk need help, man and I can’t see anyone else stepping up to the task.” He raised the brush handle over his head and slammed it down on one of the creatures trying to hide behind a display of breakfast cereal. The boxes exploded, showering their contents across the shelves and the floor. He savagely grinned when as the thing made a sound like a dog’s chew toy.

“I got the little bastard.” He shouted. Thomas looked at the end of the brush it was now covered in thick red blood, lumps of hair and cornflakes. “These fuckers ain’t so tough.”

“I think we’re too late to help her.” Derek said, pointing at the sprawled body of an old woman. Two of the creatures were standing on her chest, taking turns in smashing her head against the tiles. Thomas marched over and kicked one of them, grunting in satisfaction as if flew across the floor before crashing into a display of baked beans. The other one snapped up its tiny head, its black eyes glaring at Thomas with pure malice. Derek swung his own brush handle and caught the thing in the side of its skull, launching it into a shelf.

“Is she dead?”

Thomas crouched down and checked the woman’s pulse. He sighed, closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, we were too late to save this one.”

“Look at that.” Derek said. “We’re not the only ones that are fighting back.”

He nodded, watching three employees and a dark haired middle-aged man behind the deli counter fighting off a dozen of the things with assorted pieces of equipment. The man pulled out a metal dish and smashed it into the face of one of the creatures running through the cheese display.

“Come on, man. They’re doing just fine.” Thomas saw a young woman slowly backing down the tins aisle, a young girl of about seven or eight was cowering behind the woman’s legs. Three of the creatures were slowly creeping towards the pair. They appeared to be giggling. The noise quickly turned to angry spluttering when the woman threw a tin of fruit towards them. Derek ran past Thomas and used his brush to push all three of the creatures against the shelving. One of them grabbed the end of Derek’s improvised weapon. The man yelled out and bashed it onto the floor.

Thomas kicked one of them as it peered out from under the fixture before rushing over to the woman. “Are you okay?”

She looked into his eyes. “Thank you.” She sobbed. The woman picked up her child and ran down the aisle. She turned towards the entrance then turned back. Thomas saw indecision and terror plastered on her face. She then ran in the opposite direction.

The two men followed her down the aisle. When they reached the end, he saw why she’d gone the other way. There were over a dozen bodies lying on the floor by the entrance. The creatures were all clustered around the corpse’s heads, pushing their sharp claws through every orifice, desperately trying to reach the tissue under the skull.

“That woman and the kid have just gone through a fire door. I reckon we should follow her lead.”

Thomas was about to agree when he heard sobbing behind the customer service desk. That blonde girl that he clocked earlier had wedged her body tight into the corner, behind the desk. Two of the things had also noticed the woman and were walking across the counter towards her.

“Oh shit.” Derek moaned. “We can’t leave her there.”

They both skirted past the things eating their way through the dead people’s faces, they didn’t seem to care that more potential food was passing right by them. Derek reached the counter first and swept the creatures off the counter. Thomas reached over and lifted the woman out.

“What’s happening?” asked the girl, crying.

Thomas dragged her through the foyer and out into the night air.

“What do we do now?”

Thomas looked at Derek then back at the girl. “He then reached into his pocket and found that his wife still hadn’t sent him a text. Thomas looked across the carpark and saw several of the creatures racing along the rooftops. “I need to find out what’s happened to my family.”

The man handed his brush to the girl and ran to his car.

Chapter Seventeen

She pulled the screwdriver slowly out of his neck, grunting in pleasure at the crimson smeared metal shaft. “How do you like those apples? You dirty bald goon. I bet you weren’t expecting that one!” Joanie wiped the blood on the dead man’s shirt the pushed the body to the floor. She resisted the urge to keep on repeatedly ramming her screwdriver into the man’s flesh, as she did with the first Henry that made the stupid decision of attacking her.

Joanie looked down at the corpse, hawked up a gobbet of phlegm and spat it into his face. She then waved at it. “Don’t see you fucking grinning any more, you twat.” Her violent encounter with the last Henry had drained every scrap of emotion from her body. Joanie felt dead inside, as dead as the freaky bastard thing, lying by her feet.

Her only desire was to destroy as many of these fuckers as she could. She stared at her screwdriver, mesmerised at the sight of the remaining drop of red fluid reaching the tip before falling to the ground, leaving the metal shaft pristine. Joanie would have preferred to buy a large kitchen knife but had no desire to listen to the checkout girl ask her age. Joanie would have probably punched the bitch. It was a little ironic to think that just a few short hours ago, she’d a just loved to have that kind of confrontation.

It had felt so strange, so unreal to be shuffling down the aisle of that supermarket and watching all those old people picking up so much useless shite and popping it into their trolleys. Not of them had any inkling what was happening in the town. Then again, considering the amount of bovine expressions she kept seeing, Joanie doubted that most of the nearly dead knew what planet they were living on.

A very familiar car had pulled into the carpark just as Joanie was leaving with her single purchase. The bright yellow sports car was an unwelcome reminder of her previous uncomplicated existence. She’d have done anything to have it all back. That fact that she’d spent years wishing that the apocalypse would befall the human race made her even more distressed.

She stepped back into the alley, allowing the long shadows to engulf her, obscuring Joanie from any watchful eye. There were more of those bastards out there, somewhere. For the moment though, nothing moved. She judged it safe enough to take her phone out of her back pocket. She cupped her hand over the dim illumination and checked her messages.

“You fucking bitch.” She whispered. Tessa had still not replied. God, Joanie was furious. How dare she not text her back. She’d sent her a message over ten minutes ago. She should have answered her by now; that girl was never off her own phone. She pushed the phone back into her pocket. “Just you wait, Tessa.”

The thought of her two friends meeting the same fate as Joanie’s parents abruptly slammed into her mind. “Bloody hell, why did I not think of that earlier?” She then jumped further back into the shadows at the sight of a figure stepping out from behind the back of a green hatchback, it was yet another of those Henrys. Joanie grinned; she’d enjoy ending this one’s miserable life as well.

The other Henry cautiously walked past the car across the road. It suddenly stopped at the sight of its companion sprawled on the path. Joanie nodded, she just knew that it was a bloody good idea to leave the thing where it fell. The other Henry skidded to a halt, standing on the road’s white lines. He looked across at Joanie’s hiding place. It felt almost as if the Henry could see Joanie. That was impossible though, not unless the bastards could see in the dark. The Henry shook his head and laughed before spinning around and running in the opposite direction.

The girl spun around herself when something behind her landed on a bin bag. “Who’s there?” The shadows covered everything. She saw nothing but blackness. The plastic rustled again. “I’m warning you.” She said, backing out of the alley. The girl yelped when a small black cat darted out and shot between her legs.

There was no sign of that other Henry. That was so not fair. Joanie ran into the middle of the road. There was no way that she intended to let this one get away from her. Joanie yelped again when her phone started to vibrate. She pulled the phone out and almost slammed the bloody thing on the floor when she saw Tessa’s name.

“Where the bloody hell are you?” she snarled. “I sent you a message ages ago.” She pulled the phone away from her ear when the voice on the other end screamed back at her.

“Joanie? Please hurry. You’ve got to help me!”

“How can I do that when I don’t know where the hell you are? Is that Emma there with you?”

The girl replied by crying again. “We’re both at the top of the park. Oh god, you have to hurry up!”

The connection died. Joanie slid her phone back. That was where her quarry had headed. She picked up the pace and run through the empty town, heading for the centre of town. The park was only a few minutes distance from here. Joanie turned into the main high street and skidded to a halt at the sight of another one hanging out of an open window above a sandwich shop.

Was it a different one? Joanie so wished that their supermarket had sold rifles. She ran up to the shop window and looked up at him. It fixed her with both eyes then smiled and waved.

“I’ll give you something to laugh about, you bastard!” She screamed. “Come down here and face me.”

He responded by pulling his head back into the room and shutting the window. Joanie peered inside and saw nothing but an empty counter and a vending machine. “He’s not coming out.” She turned around and ran along the pavement, heading for the park.

She heard the sound of a faint scream originating from her original direction. “What the hell?” Joanie almost doubled back when she caught someone shrieking out her name. There was no mistaking Tessa’s panic filled voice. She reached the end of the street, raced across the road, and saw the huge park gates in the distance. Joanie could just about make out a group of figures fighting.

“Tessa!” Joanie screamed.

Every figure stopped and turned to face Joanie as she sprinted towards them. She glared at the identical men, standing in front of the bloodied remains of her two friends. “You fucking dirty bastards.” She growled.

Joanie glared at the nearest one as he slowly wiped the back of his hand across his wet, scarlet lips. The man defiantly glared back.

“All right, which one of you fuckers want to die first?”

She didn’t give them time to react. Joanie ran up to the defiant Henry and slammed the screwdriver through his throat. She pulled it out and stuck the shaft into the stomach of another Henry who made the mistake of rushing her. He staggered back towards the open park gates, howling and clutching at his wound.

“How do you like those apples, you bastard?” She shouted.

The next Henry jumped out of her way and dodged Joanie’s thrust. He then slapped the screwdriver out of her outstretched hand. The Henry ran at her, grinning. She jumped back and tripped over Tessa’s corpse, hitting the pavement hard. The Henry followed her down. He pulled her arms apart and pinned her to the ground.

“I’m going to enjoy your brain.” He whispered. The Henry bent over Joanie’s face and thrust his cold tongue inside her ear. “I ate your mother’s brain, Joanie. I found out that the first Henry once fucked the bitch while your dad was working.” The Henry lifted his head and spat at the girl. “How do you like those apples?”

Joanie watched in horror as his features melted away, flowing like hot wax. His mouth yawned open, showing her his new narrow, needle teeth growing through his bloodied gums. She screamed and bucked, trying to get him off her body. The mouth opened ever wider, dislocating his jaw like a snake.

Her strength deserted her; she just couldn’t push him off. Joanie closed her eyes and just hoped that the pain wouldn’t last long. Suddenly, the weight lifted. She snapped open her eyes and saw the concerned face of a handsome older man smiling down at Joanie.

“It looks like we got here just in the nick of time.” He said. “The bastard didn’t hurt you, I hope.”

The girl shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” Shook she smiled back at her saviour before turning her head, looking for the other rescuer. Joanie saw another Henry grinning at her and screamed, launching herself at the man.

The Henry easily dodged her charge and grabbed the girl’s arm, pushing it up her back.

“Easy now, darling. Come on calm it down. The man holding you managed to kill the one with the freaky teeth. He saved your life.”

The Henry behind her sighed. “Have you no more pies to throw at me, Joanie? Have you ever in your life thought about the consequences of your actions?” The man released Joanie and pushed her over to the other man. Henry crouched beside Tessa and gently closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry that this had to happen to you, Tessa.” He looked at Joanie. “The others ransacked my memories, Joanie. They all watched you and your friends insult me on the bus, this morning. They witnessed the years of abuse that I suffered from the people that I work with, including your dear mother. Like you, I have no doubt that they thought it was all just hilarious but in the end, that doesn’t matter, even the fact that they hate me and my sister for ruining away from the tribe.” He stood up. “I’m still their family, Joanie.”

“I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, you freaky bastard.” She snarled. “So what now, are you going to kill me as well?”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid.” He replied. “As much as I hate to say this, you annoying brat. I need you. We have to stop them from destroying our town.”

“Have you lost your mind, Henry?” William hissed. “We need to call in the police and the fucking army.”

“And tell them what? That a bunch of people who all look like me are eating the local population?”

Joanie watched Henry walk over to one of the dead freaks. He crouched down and turned its head. The thing didn’t look like Henry anymore. Neither did the Henry crouching down. He now wore the uniform of a police officer.

“We’re hunters, William. We can look like anyone.” The illusion shimmered and the familiar face of Henry stared back at him. Henry fell over, gasping and sweating. “I’m so not good at doing the change.” He stared at Joanie. “The others have no problem with it. The police and army would all die and be eaten.”

“And I suppose you know how just us three would be able to defeat them?”

He nodded. “It isn’t the fault of the males, William. They just followed the females, they had no choice; there are only four females in town; if they died the males and the young would just go back home.”

Joanie picked up her screwdriver. “Come on then, let’s get going.”

She watched the man close his eyes and rock on his heals. “They are all going in the same direction now.” his face was ashen. “We don’t have much time left.”

Chapter Eighteen

Albert lay on top of the bed sheets, soaked in sweat. His earlier tiredness was nothing compared to how he felt now. He smiled and sighed. The woman had fucked away all his anxiety and stress.

She had left him here, in the room of a recently deceased patient, telling Albert that she wouldn’t be long. He didn’t really care about what was happening to the nursing home any more.

Somehow, the woman had also fucked away any guilt that he felt about all those people dying. Albert slowly sat up, he yawned, finding himself very hungry. He climbed off the bed and walked into the kitchen, not bothering to dress. The cooling sweat felt good, he shivered.

The kitchen cupboards rewarded him with a single tin of beans, hidden right at the back; it would do until later on. He pulled off the lid and dipped his fingers into the cold beans, scooping them out into his mouth. It took him just seconds to consume the contents. It made him even hungrier.

He walked back into the bedroom, startled to see that his special lady was back and sitting on the bed. He hadn’t heard her come in. He couldn’t believe that it was possible but in the space of a few minutes, somehow, the woman had become even more ravishing, he felt life down below, Albert didn’t think that was possible either, this was just insane. She giggled; it was such a beautiful sound. She threw him his trousers.

“It’s time for the final preparations, Albert. The others are on the way.”

His special lady got off the bed, walked up to Albert and handed him his shirt. She then helped the man put his trousers on.

“I’m so hungry.”

“That isn’t too surprising, my sweet. You’ve been very energetic for these last few hours.” She brushed her hand against his crotch. “And you’ve been very generous with your fluid.”

“I still don’t understand how I’ve managed to keep going. I mean, don’t get me wrong here, I’ve always had an active sex drive but I’ve never performed this well, even in my twenties.”

His special lady took his hand. “Albert, my people know how to extract everything from our chosen mates.” She led him over to the door. “Don’t you worry, my sweet. I’ll see to your dietary needs. First, though, don’t you want to see what I’ve created with your fluid?

She opened the door and took him along the hallway. His trousers itched, there seemed little point in dressing; nobody would see them. After all, they’d dealt with the staff and he had locked the doors to the common room were most of the residents still were. It left about twenty residents remaining in their rooms but he knew they were all bed ridden.

She led him past the room where she’d killed the staff; he gazed at her angelic face, wondering just how much of his recent past was actually true. His special lady was just too beautiful to have caused those atrocities that his mind kept showing him.

“Are you excited, Albert? You’re going to see our children. Come on.” She dragged him into the resident manager’s office and over to his huge antique desk. “We’ll have to watch them through the PC monitor, Albert. It’ll be too dangerous any other way.”

“Wait, I’m confused, what do you mean by our children?”

His special lady pushed him into the chair. “I’m no longer pregnant. I had to quicken the process; there was no chance that I was willing to share the food with any of the others making their way up here. Our children are almost ready to hatch out. My sisters will soon wish that they had stayed where I had commanded.”

He nodded, remembering her story about having to leave her home in search for her two missing tribe members.

She turned on the monitor, Albert found himself staring in on the common room. That unnerved him a little; he had no idea that the place even had cameras. Most of the residents were crowded around the exit. Albert saw three of them were still sat in the high seat chairs, watching television. “How did you even know about the cameras?” He asked looking at her.

She pointed to a slumped figure in the corner of the room. “That was your boss, Albert. I found out all kinds of interesting stuff after I ate his brains. Don’t look too upset, he didn’t like you very much.” His special lady tapped on the glass. “There’s no sound, not that it matters. Our babies are about to emerge.”

He watched as hordes of tiny doll-like animals emerged from the cupboard where they hid and swarmed over the terrified people. The slaughter lasted just seconds. He turned away, wanting to throw up, sickened at what he’s just seen. Albert looked up at the girl, her face still glued to the images, she displayed another emotion; it was joy.

“Are you still hungry?” she asked gazing down at him.”

“No way.” he muttered, shaking his head. “Oh Jesus, I’m a fucking monster, I’m as bad as you.”

The woman climbed off the table and walked over to the door. “Thank you for everything, Albert. I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without your help.”

He turned off the monitor. “I don’t understand.”

She shrugged. “There’s nothing too understand. It’s simple; you’ve served your purpose, Albert. There’s just one thing left.” She pointed over to the body. “I left my two most important babies inside that body. They’ll need live food once they hatch.” The woman slammed the door shut.

Albert heard the woman slamming the bolt home. He turned around to see the body fall to the floor. Two tiny versions of his special lady burst from the corpse’s stomach, showering the carpet with wet entrails. He spun around and slammed his fists against the wood.

“Get me out of here; you can’t lock me in here with these things!” Albert turned around and pressed his back against the door. “I’m not an old bastard.” He muttered. “There are only two of them.”

They hadn’t seen him yet. The tiny figures were pulling lumps of grey matter from their smooth pink skin. He spied a bookcase on the wall beside him and slowly edged towards it. “It’ll be just like breaking a couple of Barbie dolls.” He whispered as he helped himself to some of the heavy medical volumes. Albert threw the first book, screaming in triumph as it landed on top of the first creature.

The other one looked up and spat at Albert before leaping onto the wall. It clung there like an insect, glaring at him. “What are you going to do now, you little bitch? I’ve splattered your sister. You’re going to be next!”

Albert raced across holding the book above his head, intending to squash the thing against the wall. It didn’t stay still, as soon as he reached it, the creature skittered up the wall and onto the ceiling. He screamed out in agony when it dropped onto his shoulders and dug its long claws into his skin and shredded his flesh. Albert spun around and tried to grab it.

The creature raced down Albert’s body and sunk its tiny teeth into his ankle. Albert screamed and twisted around; he lost his balance and fell forwards. The strong smell of perfume stung his nostrils as he watched the edge of the wooden desk rocket towards his face.

Chapter Nineteen

Henry gripped William’s hand then pulled him up onto the roof. “You are putting on a bit of weight, you know.” He looked up into the night sky, marveling at how beautiful those stars looked. He looked at his two companions and wandered if either of them knew just how fortunate they were to never wonder if there was more to life than an endless mazes of black tunnels. He doubted it, before his old memories returned, Henry never gave his situation any thought.

“Why are they all coming here?”

“Meat is meat, William. It doesn’t matter where is comes from, not to us anyway. Like you, our tribe could happily survive on the shit your species eat. Now according to your scientists, the mind just dies when you die. According to your religions, it goes somewhere better, or worse, depending on how good you were while you lived.” He leaned forward. “All your memories and experiences stay locked inside that large muscle long after you die. Like a discarded battery, they fade as it rots.”

The girl shrugged, “So what?”

“Our people can access all this hidden information by consuming the brain.”

“That’s bullshit.” William said. “It just isn’t possible.”

“If it’s bullshit, William, can you explain how I look, act and sound like your meek friend? His memories are now my memories”

“You mean you ate his brain?”

Henry nodded; grinning at the girl’s shocked face. “Like I said, meat is meat, don’t look so distressed. If you had eaten that pie instead of throwing it at me, you probably would have eaten some brain as well. When our people lose their usefulness, we eat them to preserve their skills. The older they are, the more prized there brains are. There used to be many of our species under the hills but now, only a few of us remain.”

“I’m not surprised.” William said. “You keep eating each other.”

Joanie lifted a skylight cover and glanced back at Henry. “And you believe that they come here?”

“They are already here, Joanie.”

“I still think that we should get help, probably help that are carrying big fucking guns.”

Henry stood up and walked over to William. He gently placed his hand around the man’s neck, lifted him off his feet and carried him over to the edge of the building. “Joanie, just half an hour ago, I caught this man fucking the woman whom I believe was my wife.”

She walked over. “Are you going to drop him?”

Henry stepped away from the edge and let William go. “No, why should I kill him when I saved his miserable life?”

He crouched beside him. “After all, it probably wasn’t even his fault. The female chose William to be her mate; he’s strong, confident and smart. Our females always get their man; the males can’t help themselves, no matter what species they belong to.” Henry dragged William over to the skylight. You would have ended up as your offspring’s first meal.” He lifted up the plastic cover. “In you go.”

Henry jumped down after him and helped Joanie through the gap. “How are you doing?”

She brushed herself down. “I want this finished, Henry.”

He gazed at William who was staying down the empty corridor.

“I think I just saw one of them.” He whispered.

Henry pushed the pair of them against the wall and put his arms around their bodies. “Don’t move or speak.”

He turned his head and saw a small number of infants scuttle past them. Their need to feed upon anything that moved grabbed him like a vice. These yearlings were very strong in both mind and body. Unlike his own diet at their age, these ones had been given the highest quality meat. Henry had only just survived his birth. Even the strongest of his litter fought over scraps of a month old brain from the last remaining elder.

Henry felt both the human’s strong hearts pumping rich, pure blood through their veins, just millimetres from his fingers. It would be a stupid idea, no matter how tempting. Just one scent of running blood would send those yearlings into a feeding frenzy. They’d have no problem with consuming Henry if he resisted.

Most of them had moved away but he watched a single specimen slowly walk up to him. He let out a quiet moan as the yearling rested his tiny-clawed hand on Joanie’s ankle. Henry slowly moved his hand away from Joanie’s back as it started to excitedly chatter like a bird. He whipped his arm out, seized the yearling, and squeezed tight until it went limp. Henry choked back a sob, feeling as though a part of himself had just died.

He looked towards where the other had gone and saw shadows approaching; they’d discovered one of their group was no longer with them. “Run!” He shouted.

They raced down the hallway, with the excited horde of yearlings right behind them. William pushed open a fire door and kept it open until the three of them were through. He pushed it shut and put his back against the door.

“The little bastards won’t be able to get through that.” He panted.

They didn’t need to; Henry saw that the yearlings had their own method of travelling through the building. He watched them scurry along the wall, heading for the ventilation shaft. Two of them pulled off the panel and scuttled inside. The others followed them in.

Joanie looked up, at a panel just above their heads. “We are so fucked!”

He pulled them both away and sprinted along the hallway, towards the nearest door. He pulled on the handle and screamed in frustration at finding it locked. He watched William try the next door.

“What the fuck are we going to do now?” he shouted.

Henry saw the panel on this side start the buckle.

“Follow me.” Joanie shouted.

She led them back through the fire door and down an intersection towards a fire exit.

“That will take us back outside.” Henry said.”

She shook her head, “No it won’t.” The girl pushed open the door and held it open. “We’re in an enclosure that only staff and residents can access.” She raced across the manicured grass towards one of the housing blocks.”

“Where is she going?”

“It’s obvious. She knows one of the residents.” He looked at William. “She’s about to have one more piece of her life ripped out.”

Henry pointed at the shut door. “We barely escaped with our lives. How do you feel all the old people in here have fared?” He followed Joanie, watching as she entered one of the houses. She raced from one room to another, shouting a woman’s name.

He entered the apartment, wondering how he’d be able to calm the girl down. Without warning, Joanie dived on him; he hadn’t been expecting her to do that. He fell to the floor, with her on top of him.

“She’s not here, my grandma is dead. I’m going to kill them all, starting with you.”

He threw her off him easily. Henry grabbed both her arms. “Joanie, listen to me.”

“What?” she scoffed. “Are you about to tell me that she might still be alive and not to give up hope?”

Henry took a deep breath and shook his head. “No, the apartment stinks of blood and chemicals.” He then began to shake. Henry released Joanie’s arms and fell back onto the chair behind him. “I don’t believe it. I can smell my own mother.” He looked up at them. “Our queen has come with them.” He closed his eyes, thinking that their task had just become impossible. If she was here, then the tribe would have nowhere else to go. That also meant that they were here to stay. If Henry wanted to keep this form then he’d have to destroy his own species.

He opened his eyes and saw that Joanie had given her screwdriver to William. She now held a samurai sword.

“Henry, I’m still going to kill every one of those bastards and if you try to stop me then I’ll run this through you.”

He shrugged and stood up. “We’ll have to kill them all anyway now, Joanie.”

“That’s fine by me.” Joanie growled.

William was about to open his mouth, Henry shook his head and walked right past him. His opinion about anything didn’t count. He walked through the room and into the bedroom. Henry stopped; he bent down and picked up a tattered baseball cap. “This doesn’t belong to your grandma does it?”

She shook her head. “No, of course it doesn’t. I know who it does belong to though, that fucking creepy janitor.” Joanie walked over to the living room window. “He lives over there. My grandma hated him. She said he used to watch her at night.”

Henry pushed the sword away from his face. “Would you say that this particular janitor had a thing for women?”

She shivered. “Oh yeah, that creepazoid could undress any girl with his eyes for ten paces.”

“I think we’ve discovered who my mother chose as her mate.”

He rushed past them and out into the open air, glad to be away from the chemical stench. Henry was not alone for long. The girl pushed past him and ran towards the apartment. She was eager to use her new toy. That eagerness may be her downfall but Henry didn’t think the girl cared anymore. She’d lost everyone she really cared about. All that remained was intense anger. It kept her going.

Henry hurried to join the girl, wondering how she’d adapt if they survived this night, he too had lost everything he cared about. He glanced behind him, watching William leave the dead woman’s apartment. Henry had even lost his only friend. How would he adapt?

“Wait a second, Joanie.” He said.

The girl ignored him and continued towards the open door.

“Joanie’s got a right fire going in her belly.” William said. “Hell, it’s like a furnace.”

“For crying out loud, man, she’s just lost all of her family and her two friends. What else do you expect?”

The man shrugged. “I’m not sure, it’s just that she’s a girl, so I’d have thought that she’d have curled herself up under a table or something and shivered a lot.” He licked his lips. “I bet she knows how to keep a man happy.”

Henry stopped him in mid conversation. “Can you just give your raging libido a rest for a second?”

The man almost slapped William when he saw the idiot wasn’t even listening to Henry. Something behind him was of far more interest. He turned and gasped. He saw himself pressed against the upper floor window, smiling back at Henry. The girl had just gone through that door, alone.

“Oh no!” he whispered. Henry just knew that the figure in the window wasn’t alone. There was no way that she’d be able to take them all on, even armed with that sword. He raced up the embankment and dived through the doorway, into the pitch-black living room, his night sensitive eyes immediately picking out two males stalking Joanie. The girl had no clue that they were right behind her. The screaming Henry trying to rip off her face had focused her attention. The two males then saw Henry running into the apartment and changed their stance.

Henry snatched a metal tankard as he ran past a wall cupboard. He knew that he’d have a poor chance of beating just one male never mind two, but he had no choice but to try. He couldn’t let them kill the girl. His metal tankard seemed woefully inadequate.

The creature in front of Joanie slipped off her blade and landed on the floor in a jumbled heap.

“Joanie!” he yelled. “Look out behind you.”

She spun around and flung out her sword hand, catching one of the men across the face. The other took advantage of Joanie’s inability to see and dropped to the floor. He kicked out with both his feet smacking the girl in the knees. She yelled and fell to the floor. Henry saw that the sword flew from her hand.

The other Henry growled his body already in transformation. Henry ran forward and slammed the tankard down upon the top of his head. The creature fell to the floor.

“Hush there, Joanie.” He said, crawling over to her. “That’s the last of them.”

Henry cried out as the room exploded with light.

“Where the fuck were you?” Joanie screamed.

William stood by the light switch. Henry could have kicked himself, why didn’t he think of flicking on that light when he barged in?

“Well, excuse me, little miss but I can’t see in the dark and unlike you, I don’t have a big fucking sword!”

“Can you lot really see in the dark?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, it sorta helps when you spend all your lives living in lightless caverns.”

“This doesn’t make any sense to me, Henry. You lot are stronger than us and you can alter your appearance to look like anyone. Why don’t your species rule the fucking planet?”

He shrugged. “It all depends on how you look at it. Our planet is a very large ball. You have no idea what lives a few miles under your feet, just as we never knew what lived on the surface, at least until recently.”

“Should we not be getting a move on?”

Henry nodded. He helped the girl to her feet and searched through the rest of the apartment. He found no sign of anyone else but found plenty of human bones piled up in a corner. Henry didn’t tell the others what he’d found.

“There’s nothing else here.” He said. “I think we’d better look somewhere else.”

William shook his head. “No thanks. There’s bound to be more of those things out there. I’ll stay here, thank you.”

“Okay William, you stay here.” He turned to the girl. “Joanie, kill him. Push your blade through his heart.” Henry shrugged. “He’s right, if we leave him here, the yearlings are bound to find him hiding in this apartment. A quick death is infinitely preferable to having those ravenous beasts eating you alive.” He smiled at the man. “You don’t have to thank us. I can see the gratitude written all over your face.”

“Do you still want me to kill him?”

Henry walked out of the apartment and stood in the middle of the hallway. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, seeking out the strong female minds. They were so close now he could almost taste them. “Joanie, do you know the layout of this place?”

“I reckon so, why?”

“There’s a room a five doors in that direction. Have you any idea what’s in there?”

Joanie followed his gave and nodded. “Yeah, that’s the nurses’ station. My gran used to visit the place every Tuesday.”

“Do you still wish to stay here and get eaten, William?” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer. Henry hurried along the carpeted the corridor and stopped by the closed door. He looked at Joanie then slowly pushed open the door.

“Bloody hell!” hissed the girl.

Henry ducked down and crawled over to the control panel. Through the glass partition, he saw two females sitting in the middle of the room, slowly combing each others hair. All round the women were dozens of sleeping yearlings.

William looked through the glass. “We can’t go in there. He whispered. “They’ll pull us apart.”

“I know that.” Henry stood up. He looked around the room, his eyes finding exactly what he needed. “Wait here.” he whispered.” The man rushed over to the medicine cabinet. The door was locked but that presented him with no problem. He ripped open the door and unwrapped out two syringes. Henry pushed both needle into a large plastic container of cleaning fluid and filled the containers to the top.

Henry hurried back over to his two companions. “It’s time for you to play your part, William.” He said, showing him the syringes.

He shook his head. “You have got to be having a laugh. There’s no way that I’m going in there.”

Henry smiled. “I already knew that you wouldn’t volunteer. He slammed both needles into William’s chest then picked him up and launched the man through the window. Both the females leaped onto the screaming man and started to tear off his clothes.

He yelped in shock when he found the tip of the blade pushed against his neck.

“Am I next, you fucking monster?”

Henry jerked his head back and snatched the sword out of her hands. “No, you’ve suffered enough, Joanie.” He gave her the sword back and took her over to the window. “There’s not much left of poor William. Look at them, Joanie.” He watched them convulsing, he had just poisoned two of his own people. Their agony would be just indescribable. “They fought over him, Joanie. When neither of them could gain the advantage, they took their frustrations out on William and ate him.” Henry felt tears springing from his eyes, watching some of the yearlings lapping up the poisoned blood. He felt like a mass murderer.

A dozen yearlings saw them, staring through the shattered glass window. Henry grabbed the girl’s hand. “It time to go.” He said, pulling her out of the room and into the hallway. Henry took her to the door opposite. “I’m sorry, Joanie.” He uttered, “I don’t think I’m strong enough to finish this.” He looked into the girl’s eyes then kissed her. “I’m relying on you now.” Henry opened the apartment door and pushed her through. Henry followed her in and clicked the door closed.

“Where is she, Henry?”

He placed his hand on her shoulders and turned her around.

“What’s going on?” cried Joanie. “I thought you were dead.”

“What’s happening out there, dear? That creepy janitor put me in here earlier this afternoon.” She looked at Henry. “And who the heck are you?” the woman looked at Joanie. “I don’t like this one, girl.”

He watched the girl’s face go through a variety of expressions. Henry swallowed his terror and moved away from the door, shocked that he was able to move at all. “It isn’t her, Joanie. Deep down, you must know that.”

The woman glared at him. “Of course I’m your grandma. That’s just silly talk. Who else could I be?” She slowly lifted her frame out of the chair. “Joanie, I really don’t like that man. I think it would be best if you just put him out of his misery.”

Henry fell to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away from his mother’s mesmerizing gaze.

“Go on Joanie, my dear. Push that sword of yours through the horrible little man’s throat. It is your sword by the way, Joanie. I was going to give it to you for Christmas last year but your mother wouldn’t let me.” The old woman gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot her death. Forgive me, Joanie. I didn’t mean to upset you.

“Joanie!” he yelled. “How did that woman know that?”

“Oh, fuck this.” muttered the woman. She strode over and snatched the sword out of the girl’s hands. “I don’t even know why I was bothering to play mind games with you, it serves no purpose.” She dropped the sword and picked the girl up. “You’re rather pretty. I may take your form after I eat you.”

Henry crawled towards the sword, sobbing. “Leave her alone, you bitch.” The girl struggled like a caught fish but to no avail. “Mother, please, no. I’m begging you.” The old woman’s face began to melt away.

He wrapped his arms over his head, his shame was total; he’d failed everybody. He heard the woman cry out in shock as the door burst open. Henry rolled onto his back and watched his sister run into the room. She grabbed the sword off the carpet and thrust the blade into the old woman’s chest.

Joanie cried out and kicked the woman in the face. “You bitch! You fucking dirty bitch.” The girl looked over at Henry. “A fat lot of use you were.”

He hung his head.  “I know, Joanie. I’m so sorry.”

The woman placed her arms around Joanie and led her over to Henry. “Don’t be too harsh on him, young lady. He can’t help what he is. After all, he’s only a man.”

She looked over at the dead creature. “The tribe belong to me now, Henry.” She kissed him. “I’m going to take them back home; we don’t belong under the sun. Come with us?”

He shook his head. “I can’t I belong here.”

She kissed him again and walked over to the door. “You’d better change that face then.”

He nodded. The man’s face melted away and changed to William’s features. “Does this please you, Joanie? I know you liked him.”

The end

Spores

Prologue

Thin, light drizzle had transformed the world outside his kitchen window into what his mother would have called ‘a nasty vile mess’.

The heavens then opened and the drizzle became a downpour and yet those kids streaking across that field didn’t even notice. Even those children who were dressed for the weather were now drenched.

Alistair Carstairs leaned over the full sink until his nose pressed against the cool glass. The combination of rainwater and studded boots had changed the colour of the field to dark grey. It reminded him of the washing up water beneath him.

Those kids had been out there for ages; Alistair knew that not one of them would be called home by their distraught and angry parents, not anymore. Their shackles had been removed, those lucky little boys and girls now had their freedom; they could do whatever they wanted.

He felt his wrist getting wet. Alistair pulled his face off the glass and looked down; he groaned. “Oh hell.”

Alistair had trailed his sleeve in the cold water. He squeezed out the end of his woollen jumper the best he could. He was so glad that he had decided to don his green jumper today; the water would be more noticeable on his yellow one. Mother would give him punishment if she noticed. It didn’t seem fair; it looked like he’d have to wait a little longer for his own shackles to be removed.

He sighed and put the matter behind him, relying on the fact that mother’s eyesight, along with the rest of her, had deteriorated badly over the last few days.

“Alistair?”  A tired voice cried. “Have you done my tea yet?”

His heartbeat quickened. “Crap!” he gasped. He had been so busy watching the kids playing football that he’d forgotten all about making his mother’s morning drink. Her sense of time had gone on Saturday, so hopefully; mother still thought that she had just asked him to make it.

The worse her condition became, the more liberties he felt he could take. Alistair’s one regret was that the foul woman’s heart would stop beating before he would be able to exact complete revenge.

While he was still thinking of dishes best served cold, Alistair got on with preparing her morning tea.

“And there’s nothing colder than Mother’s morning tea.” He whispered. Alistair used the hooked end of the slotted spoon to dig through the grey dishwater. It took a moment to snag the cup’s handle. He could have retrieved the cup immediately if he had been brave enough to put his hand in but there was no way that was going to happen. The sink was full of every piece of cutlery that his mother had touched and it hadn’t been emptied for a week. Heaven knows what could be swimming through that muck. Considering what was growing on and under Mother’s skin, he thought the prospect of strange marine life swimming through that stuff would be more than likely.

He used a clean tea towel to wipe the congealing grease and other less identifiable substances off the handle and the outside of the cup. The towel then went into the swing bin under the microwave. He peered inside the cup and tried not to shudder; there was no way that he was going to ruin another towel by sticking it in there.

He then had a brainwave. Alistair grabbed the bottle of bleach from the cupboard under the sink and filled the cup to halfway. He then topped it up with the cold brown liquid sloshing around in the bottom of the teapot.

Alistair didn’t think that there would be that much risk. Yesterday’s tea had been flavoured with an eggcup full of his urine and Mother hadn’t noticed that.

He placed the cup on a tray and carried it out of the kitchen, thinking that it may be a good idea to wash this jumper once he had dealt with Mother. He then stopped and watched the wet fibres from his jumper fall to the floor like decaying leaves from an autumnal tree. He changed his mind; it would have to follow the towel into the bin.

Alistair padded past the living room. Half listening to the newsreader announcing that the outbreak had now spread to four more counties,  and our friends in the United States were doing everything they could to help us in their hour of need. He wasn’t sure, but he could swear that he heard just a touch of sarcasm in that man’s voice just then.

The news programmes were the only thing they were showing on the television nowadays, Alistair sighed; they had even cancelled his afternoon soaps to make way for extended coverage. That was such a shame; he looked forward to catching up with the characters’ exploits. They were Alistair’s only real contact with the outside world.

He padded into the hallway and stopped before her door. There was little point in knocking, Mother’s hearing was now worse than her eyesight. He took a deep breath, held it then entered the room.

Oh heavens. Alistair had trouble believing that the thing on the bed was the same woman. His Mother had almost doubled in size since last night and gained considerable weight, considering how her bed was now bowing in the middle. He looked away; the sight of all that exposed flesh, in various stages of change made him feel quite nauseous.

“Is that you Alistair?”

“Yes Mother.” he said in a hushed tone. “I’ve brought your tea.”

Even in this feeble state, she still had power over him. God, he hated that. Alistair was a strong boy; his arms and shoulders were heavily muscled and very powerful, due to over a decade of lifting her in and out of the bath.

One single punch in her rotten face would silence her forever but even the thought of his hand sinking into that swollen, mottled grey flesh filled him with revulsion, it would be like hitting a giant marshmallow.

What was even more sickening was that he knew he could get away with it as well. Anybody over the age of forty who hadn’t already died had been rounded up and quarantined. He had dragged Mother through the living room and hid her in a cupboard when the officials had knocked on their door last week. He had explained to them that Mother was one of the first to be infected and was already dead. He’d told them that he had burnt her corpse in the back garden. They had seemed satisfied with the explanation.

There had been rumours that the council were using the facilities at a couple of local abattoirs to deal with the more heavily infected. He grinned at the thought of firing an explosive bolt through Mother’s brain. That was supposed to be quick and painless; it wasn’t good enough for her. No, his way was so much better.

She was already pretty gross after three weeks of this vile stuff eating into her, he couldn’t wait to see what she would end up looking like when the devil finally arrived to take her twisted soul.

Her arm whipped out, Alistair had to move fast to avoid it touching his clothes. He retreated to the safety of the corner of her room. He watched with disgust as black mucus secreted from the underside of her arm ate through the varnish on the bedside cabinet.

That was a new feature; she hadn’t been able to do that last night. Mother hadn’t been stingy with her new feature either.

The foul smelling stuff was everywhere, on the bed covers, in the carpet, flicked onto the wallpaper behind her. There were even a few spots on the ceiling. How in heavens name had she got it up there?

Mushrooms had sprouted from where some of the stuff had dried. They were all one uniform shape, a thin stalk topped with a small flat cap; all were black and seemed to glisten as if coated with globules of sweat.

“You’re such a good boy.” She rasped. “It reassures me that you’re here to look after your poorly old mum.”

Alistair jerked from his reverie. That was new as well; Mother had never admitted that anything was wrong with her before.

“Why don’t you come over here, Alistair? Come on; give mummy a big hug and a kiss.”

Alarm bells went off in his head. Oh heavens! Alistair recognised and dreaded that sly and insinuating tone he had just heard in Mother’s voice, that tone had always been the prelude to one of her horrible games.

The blood in his veins turned to ice slush. He started to edge towards the open doorway. He had been mistaken about her mind unravelling. Oh heavens, was she still alert inside that diseased mass of knotty flesh? Was her mind still as sharp as ever?

“And where do you think you are going you deceitful little child?”

His feet stopped of their own volition. “I, I, I…” he stammered.

“Silence, child and stay where you are!” she bellowed. “What? Did you think I didn’t know what you’ve been trying to do to me?”

She brought the cup to her face. “So it’s bleach today then? My, you are getting imaginative. I should make you drink this concoction, but no I couldn’t do that; it would make me as wicked and evil as you.”

The cup fell from her hand, its contents seeping into the covers. She lifted up her huge arm as if stretching.

“Do you know what happens to nasty little boys who try to poison Mother?”

Alistair numbly shook his head.

“We listen to what the good book says and act accordingly. Now come here”

He shook his head, there was no way that he was going anywhere near her.

“So, it’s come to this has it? You’ve actually found your backbone and worked up the nerve to defy me. After everything, I have done for you. I’ve kept you safe from this wicked world for twenty five years and this is how you repay my kindness?”

A line of tiny black lumps pushed up through her mottled, rough skin and like opening eyes, the flesh parted.

Alistair should have run from the room there and then or at least ducked down but Mother had commanded him not to move and years of indoctrination were so hard to break. Her muscles tensed and a single hole in the middle opened a little wider. At the last moment, Alistair closed his eyes and turned his head as a jet of the black slime sprayed across his cheek.

He opened his mouth to scream and some of it dripped into his mouth. Oh God! It tasted of his Mother’s stale sweat mixed with damp vegetable decay.

Alistair burst out of the room with her maniacal laughter ringing in his ears.

***

A man in Oxfordshire was due to be executed after being found guilty of attempting to murder his neighbour by dropping crushed mushrooms into the man’s water-tank.

There was a limited nuclear exchange between Israel and Iran last night after both countries accused each other of starting the outbreak.

A fire has consumed the town of Eastbourne after rumours circulating the internet suggested that there was a higher degree of the disease mutating in retirement towns.

Alistair had spent the last five hours flicking through one news channel after another, looking for that one story that showed the infection had begun to appear in the young.

He now had a vivid red welt across his cheek and he could still taste the pungent odour of his Mother in his mouth despite eating two tubes of toothpaste and gargling his way through a full bottle of antiseptic mouthwash.

As for his new scar, Alistair suspected that he’d exacerbated the problem with the frenzied cleaning ritual he went through yesterday afternoon. He was borderline hysterical after Mother’s surprise. Oh heavens, he just remembered picking up the bottle of bleach and the wire pan scrubber.

Alistair switched over the channel as the newsreader announced in a news flash that the infected were now throwing themselves into water supplies and reservoirs.

Mother had been very quiet these past few hours. He remembered hearing her shuffling about and he heard a couple of groans but that was it. He hadn’t checked in on her; there was no way he was going anywhere near that room again.

Five hours of intense television viewing had turned him into a virtual expert on the subject of the infection. Although cold hard facts and unsubstantiated claims often merged into a large grey area, there were a couple of pieces of information that had been established as a certainty.

Infected people were frail and weak and became weaker as the infection ate through their body. Their life span was measured in days. Three weeks was the record so far. A few days before the end, the body began to dry out until, on the last day, the mummified corpse would just burst apart at the slightest vibration.

Vast clouds of the stuff had already been ejected into the atmosphere; some parts of Britain had not seen sunlight in over a week.

That wasn’t happening to Mother, she was something different. The welt started to itch. Mother was something new.

He stood up and padded over to the kitchen window whilst absently scratching away at his cheek. Alistair failed to notice that the scum-covered water in the sink was now choked with tiny black mushrooms.

It was a little murky outside but Alistair could still make out the shapes of a couple of boys playing. He grinned to himself, then noticed that his hand had been enthusiastically digging into his face. He stopped; his hand came away covered in blood and what appeared to be bits of black mushroom. He then saw the state of the sink. Had he put his hand in there? He couldn’t remember.

Alistair pushed away his troubling concerns as a new and exciting thought broke his mind’s surface. Now that mother was otherwise occupied, he could do what he wanted, for the first time in his life he was a free man.

Both his legs had begun to itch. He shook his head; a little itch wasn’t going to stop him. Alistair hurried into the hallway to fetch his coat and hat. He looked at the front door and grinned; he couldn’t wait to say hello to those kids outside.

Alistair ran to the door, not noticing that his fingernails were back on his cheek, ripping through the dry, papery skin to reveal oily, black flesh.

Chapter One

It looked like a disk of cold, melted cheese. Dustin Fletcher grinned; he liked that comparison, or maybe hot bubbling mud or even ocean waves frozen in time. Hell, he could go on forever here, he was in a poetic mood. He carefully stepped over the uneven depression left in the concrete slab. Careful was his word of the day. Well it was now anyway. There was no way in the seven levels of hell that he could drop this bottle, this one would finally complete his sculpture.

Until he’d stood up a few seconds ago, Dustin didn’t think he was that drunk, oh he knew his rational reasoning had buggered off to visit his Aunt Mary but he didn’t think that Mr. Balance had fucked off with the fat bitch as well.

Dustin looked down at the tattered skater boot barely covering his left foot and commanded it not to move. “You’re like a moon boot dude, like magnetic or fucking something.”

With the foot securely anchored, he counted to three and swung his other foot over. He nodded, pleased at overcoming his challenge of the day, and wondered if that pool of weird acid shit in the middle of the crater was still active. He’d crapped himself yesterday when the branch he’d dipped in had just burst into flames.

He knew where it had come from, oh yeah he knew all right. The moaners and their little companions were moving about again, it didn’t take a genius to guess that yet another bunch of survivors had made the mistake of entering the city centre. Dustin looked down at what was left of his human visitor, a piece of purple t-shirt, blackened at the edge and a bleached white jawbone. Dustin made a mental note to say bunch minus one from now on.

The moaners must be having a whale of a time, hunting down the new humans. Dustin guessed that it must be like when you give your pet cat a toy mouse to play with. He slowly shook his head from side to side wondering if any of the new additions, minus one, would be still be alive by this time tomorrow. He’d bet that the answer to that one was likely to be none of them. Dustin had discovered some time ago that the moaners were very good hunters.

He shivered, wondering what that moaner’s victim must have thought when he’d stumbled over the sleeping form of old Dustin during the night. He wondered why he hadn’t tried to bring him out of the land of nod. He suddenly looked back at the boxes he’d shoved under the park bench. Maybe that sneak was trying to rob him.

He’d have to check through his gear, just in case he was right about Mr. Purple t-shirt rifling through his cardboard boxes before bumping into one of the moaners. Of course, that would have to wait for a minute. He glanced at the beer bottle in his hand before he tiptoed through the minefield of empty bottles.

This one was the keystone or keybottle that finished off his magnificent creation. He placed this bottle in the middle and hurried back to his bench to admire it from afar.

“I name you Bottlehenge and may all the micro druids in this diseased and fucked up land find you and worship here.”

Dustin climbed onto the bench and saluted, the spore clouds weren’t so thick today so he could even make out the back of the shopping mall overlooking the city park. Dustin slowly counted the bottles that made up the four concentric circles in Bottlehenge; it did look pretty fucking cool, even if he said so himself. It had taken him over a week to construct.

“You, my friend are an awesome artist.”

He climbed down, picked up his guitar and strummed out the first chord of his favourite Beatles track.

“Bollocks, man. Give it up, you’re killing the song.”

This was so unfucking cool. No matter what he did to this bloody guitar, he just couldn’t get it to sound like the one he’d left behind in the now famous exodus. Dustin laughed aloud. He would have written a song about that journey if he could stop this useless piece of modern crap sounding like an old washboard.

Dustin dropped the instrument onto the wet grass. He knew that he should have swiped the guitar he liked instead of going for the most expensive one.

“Perhaps I should have taken both.”

He could always take it back and demand a refund. A quiet giggle escaped from his mouth. Dustin looked down at the guitar, “Stupid modern piece of shit.”

“I wish I still had my old guitar. I should have stayed in Huddersfield, for all the good it did me.”

Dustin sighed, he felt the euphoria slipping away like a paid up whore. He bent forward, waited a moment for his equilibrium to catch up and picked out another bottle from his rapidly diminishing supply. Dustin prised the cap off with his teeth and took a tentative sip. Considering that he’d never heard of the make, it didn’t taste too bad, weak as piss but what else did he expect? He had supped all the strong stuff a few days ago.

He stopped in mid gulp when a mournful cry echoed through the silent city. Was that another human or a moaner? It was difficult to tell, not that it was his problem; it was unlikely they’d call in on good old Dustin. He quickly stood up and looked around the city park, just in case. He wasn’t in the mood for any more visitors today, or any day for that matter, unless they were female of course. He swigged back the beer, while keeping his eyes and ears open for any signs of movement.

Dustin fell back on the bench, and dropped the bottle on the grass, suddenly remembering that he was going to check his possessions, Dustin leaned over and pulled out the thick cardboard box, noticing that the wet grass was turning the bottom of his box into wet mush. Dustin knew that he should have picked up a plastic box instead. He removed a tin of peaches and a tin of stewed steak first, that would do for his dinner, and then counted everything else. It seemed to be all there. He hadn’t really thought that his visitor would have stolen anything and even if he had, it’s not as if he’d managed to get very far.

Dustin looked down at his dinner; he didn’t want to eat anything but it just wasn’t an option, he needed to eat to continue drinking. Keeping his mind nice and foggy was the ultimate priority; it stopped him from mulling over his situation, his immediate future and most importantly, the beer blunted his urges.

He thanked the Gods of karma yet again for the invention of the ring pull can and dug into his tasteless dinner. As he was licking gravy off his fingers, he heard another cry. That one was definitely human. Dustin threw the half eaten tin behind him and reached for the peaches; it was uber weird at how blasé he become these past few days at the sound of another soul running from a moaner. He shrugged to himself.

“Whatever.”

Peach flavoured gravy was yummy but what he really craved was a fresh banana, but he knew that the chances of him ever seeing one of those lovely yellow crescent shaped fruits in the flesh, so to speak, was very unlikely; weird, really. Dustin never really bothered with eating fruit before the whole world had turned to shit.

The screaming voice closed in on his location, God, just how irritating was Mr. Noisy? Where was that fucking moaner? Those things were just like buses, there were never any around when you really needed one.

“For crying out loud, will you shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “You’re putting me off my dinner!”

Dustin pushed a peach segment into his mouth then licked his fingers once more. If he had a straw at least then he could put his fingers in his ears. Maybe he’d show a little more empathy if he knew that the screamer was female. Fat chance of that happening though, he knew for a fact that the Institute had rounded them all up at the beginning of the outbreak, at least, that’s what they’d told him.

He threw the other tin onto the grass beside the guitar and reached for another beer. Thinking about the Institute sobered him up.

It was their fault that he was in this fucking situation in the first place; he thought he’d landed on his feet when he got in with that crowd. His own room, two hot meals every day and best of all, the place was just crawling with hot nubile girls, all desperate for a slice of Dustin love. Debra, Adele, Patsy, Jennifer, he’d lost track of the other names after the first couple of days. God, he’d been like a dog with two dicks until someone, no doubt some uncool breadhead jealous of his virility, had complained to the powers that be. He couldn’t believe it when the sad fuckers had cast him out like Jesus; he was surprised that the fuckers hadn’t tried to stone him either. Apparently, trying to repopulate the human race single-handed was bad form. He drained the bottle and threw that one down too, then picked up another.

“Bastards!” he shouted, “You’re all bastards.”

Dustin drained the bottle, burped, then threw it as hard as he could over the wrought iron fence; he watched it disappear into the mist before a couple of seconds later, it smashed. He grinned savagely as a car alarm competed for dominance with the shrieking man.

Bottlehenge and his next creation could go fuck themselves now, God he was mad. Dustin needed something a lot stronger than beer. There must be somewhere in the fair city of Leeds where he could score some dope. What a complete bummer, he so wished that he was back in Huddersfield, he still had a baggie under his mattress.

How long would it take him to walk home from here? Two, maybe three hours tops. He attempted to work out just how long he’d been here, at least a week, that was for sure. It was difficult to tell, as some days, the spore cloud had been so dense he couldn’t tell whether it was day or night.

“Over a week without a shag.”

Dustin looked at his remaining bottles in disgust; would he still be doing this in five years or even ten? He tried to imagine a thousand bottlehenge creations scattered around the city, he tried to imagine ten years without being able to caress a beautiful woman, or any woman for that matter. He stood up and waited for his balance to catch up with him before taking a couple of steps away from the park bench that had been his home for the past few days,

“Fuck it all,” he announced. “I’m going home.”

He wouldn’t be sorry to see any of this stuff again.

“Good riddance to all of you,” he muttered.

He should have buggered back home as soon as those squares chucked him out of the Institute.

“This is all your fault, Mr. Beer bottle.”

Well it was. The nice lady dropped him off right outside that off licence and as his karma had just been shot to fuckery, he just had to have a beer or five to get his emotions away from those jagged peaks. Ironic, considering it was beer that put him in this position in the first place.

It seemed like the way distant past now. The world outside had gotten mega trippy. Bad karma had begun to spoil even Dustin’s relatively calm persona. Folks in the commune where he had been currently hanging out were getting sick and dropping like flies. He’d taken the momentous decision to get the hell out of Dodge and move back in with his mum on the other side of town.

He figured that all this drama would be over in a few days and everything would get back to normal. All that spaced out optimistic bullshit flew right out of the window when Dustin had finally arrived back home. He’d found his only relative lying on the bed, or at least what was left of her. There was just a matt black covering of dust in her shape on the bedspread; he’d assumed that the rest of her was floating around the bedroom, which probably accounted for why it had been so cloudy in there.

Dustin had of course taken the correct procedure. He had run down the stairs and cracked open the first of many bottles of beer he found in the bottom of the fridge. His mum always kept the fridge stocked up with his favourite brands just in case her only son, on the rare occasions that he did, came to visit her.

The pounding on his mother’s front door happened when Dustin was three quarters of the way through his ninth beer. He’d been more than a little confused to see a coach parked outside the house when he peered through the window. The nice young man who was standing on the porch had explained that they were on an exodus to Leeds; apparently they had some form of working government. All the other words that spilled from the man’s lips just turned into meaningless babble. Dustin had seen the other passengers, mainly women. Some young, some old but he didn’t care. It had been simply ages since he’d placed his hands around a female body.

Of course, the square driving the magical mystery tour wouldn’t allow Dustin to bring any of his beloved beer with him so he proceeded to drink them one by one. He hadn’t remembered getting on the bus or any of the journey. The first thought he’d had when he came to was why they had redecorated the coach whilst he’d been in the land of drunken nod. He quickly found that it wasn’t paint though, it was blood, gallons of the stuff, not to mention the numerous lumps of raw meat stuck to the windows, floor and roof. Dustin had done the right thing and got the hell out of there.

Dustin shuddered, he must be sobering up; it wasn’t often that he allowed himself to dwell on the interior of the bus or why even that he was the only one who’d escaped intact.

“I need to get the fuck out of here.”

Flash bulbs went off in his head. He remembered Denise and Andrea. He used to hang around with them before he got lofty ideas and joined that commune. The chicks were way past their use by date but at least the girls were still under forty so they would have escaped the infection, although whether they managed to live through the monster attacks was another matter.

He wasn’t going to find out bumming around here though. He grinned at the thought of having sex again after such a long time.

“I’ll be hearing a different kind of moaning pretty soon.”

He knew most of the places where they used to hang out; he doubted they’d have changed their habits despite the fact that this was like The End of Days. They would be only too happy to look after good old Dustin, maybe even cook for him, hell, it’s not like they’d have anything else to do. That and sex of course.

His carnal thoughts shattered when he heard someone or something ploughing through his completed bottlehenge.

“You clumsy bastard!” he screamed.

Dustin saw a blurred human shape stop dead and look towards him. He couldn’t believe how bloody mad he was now.

“Help me!” cried the figure. He stumbled forward, another bottle crashed to the floor.

“Stop pissing moving!” cried Dustin. “You’re ruining my fucking sculpture!”

Incredibly, the figure did stop.

“It’s vandalism,” Dustin muttered, “That’s all it is.”

He needed another drink; he just couldn’t cope with this amount of intense emotional content. Dustin noticed that the spore clouds were thickening up again, it was turning into another pea souper.

“Bugger, that’s all I bloody need. How am I supposed to go anywhere now?”

The man had now disappeared behind that bank of thick cloud. He moved a little closer, wondering why the man had still not moved, he hadn’t spoken either.

“Are you still there?”

What a stupid thing to say, of course he was still there, no more bottles had been kicked over. The cloudbank was still getting thicker; he couldn’t see his own feet now.

“Hello? Why aren’t you talking?”

Dustin’s foot kicked over a bottle, the man should be here, right next to him. Despite every nerve in his body ordering him to turn around right now and run like a drugged racehorse, Dustin lifted his left leg and placed it down in front of him.

It wasn’t hard concrete that greeted the sole of his boot; it felt as though he’d just trod in a pile of thick jelly. Dustin swallowed down the hot bile that had risen up from his stomach when the realisation of what he’d just put his foot in finally hit home. He’d just desecrated all that was left of that man who asked him for help. Oh Jesus, what was happening to him, was he turning into some kind of monster as well? Dustin slid his foot back until he reached a hard surface again and sighed loudly.

“I’m sorry dude, I didn’t mean to say all that hurtful shit, you know.” He closed his eyes, “I know it’s not much of an epitaph, Mr. Whoever you were, but I think you’re in a better place than I am now.”

Dustin’s eyes jerked open, were there chicks in heaven? He’d spent his life after his balls had dropped obsessing about sex to give the idea of an afterlife any consideration. That and travelling to other planets on whatever drugs he could get his hands on.

One thing was for sure, if it did exist, there were bound to be plenty of hot women up there now, as there sure weren’t many down here anymore. Dustin sighed again and kicked his foot forward, intending to smash one of the bottles. His foot didn’t connect with glass but something spongy. He gasped aloud, knowing deep down just what was next to him.

A low rumbling vibrated through his bones, he watched the spore cloud around him begin to dissipate, and he finally saw just what had appeared next to him.

Dustin was in the middle of what looked like thick, black electrical wiring, the stuff slithered around his legs, Dustin forced his head slowly upward when a large shadow cast over his face. He saw a humanlike head attached to a glossy serpentine neck appear above him through the mist. Its grey chin and chisel-like teeth were coated with blood and lumps of soft tissue, but to Dustin that was irrelevant as he saw something else. This creature was female.

He smiled. “Oh my God, you are so beautiful,” he raised his hand and gently stroked her rough cheek. Dustin sighed with pleasure as it began to purr like a kitten.

Chapter Two

Amber Barlow hurried along the dull grey corridor. Grey was such a horrible colour, it was the colour they painted prisons. How on earth were the survivors going to climb out of their pit of misery when they were forced to look at dull grey every day of their lives?

She’d have to put down tubs of bright emulsion paint down on her itinerary. Amber hoped that she’d be able to remember all this. She knew that doing a spot of painting wasn’t really the most important task to work on when they were in the middle of the apocalypse but it would give some of the frightened people currently sheltering in the Institute something better to do than wallow in their despair. There were quite a few unskilled people pacing around the lower levels with far too much time on their hands. Not everyone here had important roles to fulfil in the saving of the human race. Her mother always used to say that idle hands were the devil’s workshop. This place would look simply smashing covered in vivid colours

Her hands certainly weren’t idle, neither was her mind. The amount of tasks that the ad hoc Institute committee had piled on her since she’d volunteered to take up the post of morale officer was just unreal. Amber chuckled to herself. To think that she used to bitch about the amount of workload her boss used to pile on her desk when she worked as Reachout juvenile employment officer at Leeds Council. All that paled in comparison to what she had to get through here on a day-to-day basis.

She considered herself lucky, really. Amber had come through The Wasting, relatively unscathed. She had never known her real parents, and at twenty-two she had not yet decided to settle down to raise a family. Amber hadn’t even had a steady boyfriend for six months.

Some of her new friends here in the Institute had watched The Wasting take their entire families. Amber shuddered, trying to imagine the anguish they must have gone through, the misery sketched upon the faces she spoke to every day told her that it was probably best not to put herself in their place. She hadn’t told anyone that she’d been fostered until the age of nineteen. As far as everyone was concerned, she had lost her parents to The Wasting too.

At the time, making up a fictional history seemed like the wise choice; how could she help the people through their suffering if she couldn’t relate? She shook her head and shrugged. It’s not like anyone would ever find out and even if they did, she was sure that they’d understand the logic behind her decision.

Amber passed a row of light bulbs held together with long black wire and insulation tape, and by the looks of it, a bit of spit and chance. Talk about shoddy work. Oh good Lord, she could even see a couple of bare wires. It was a good job that there were no children in the Institute, they were being held in two crèches on the other side of the city. This would just have to be reported. Amber glanced at her watch. Oh no. She was late for the meeting, Amber felt a tinge of shame colour her cheeks; now who was being shoddy? The first meeting that she’d had the privilege of joining and she was late.

She picked up the pace, remembering to add insulating tape next to the paint in her mental itinerary. It did seem a little strange though. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why all the committee members would be called to the reception hall.

Amber hoped that the meeting wouldn’t be too long, there were just heaps of jobs to do, she was also supposed to be in the arrivals lounge in ten minutes. Another group of survivors had managed to get to the Institute and as the new morale officer it was her job to help them acclimatise to their new life. It was amazing just how effective a warm smile and a hot cup of tea could be. Of course, it did help if that warm smile was on the face of a pretty blonde.

It was just like the director of the Institute to pull a stunt like this. She had a boss at her old job who liked to do the same, pull people out of their tasks, just to announce yet another meaningless directive that had absolutely no relevance to their jobs. Maybe that was a little harsh. The Institute director, Stephen Browning, wasn’t that bad. He might be a bit of an arse but he did know how to get tasks done. Thanks to him, they now at least had fresh air to breathe again. It was Stephen who had worked out why all the air filters had suddenly decided to stop working. She certainly had no wish to wander through the Institute wearing one of those horrible chemical protection suits again.

She really did feel sorry for the scavengers the Institute sent above ground, due to the thick spore clouds, they had no choice but to wear them.

“Scavengers?” she muttered, “Did I really say that?”

She’d better remember not to say that word in the presence of Stephen. He preferred the term ‘resource collection teams.’ Even the blokes who risked their neck every time they went out didn’t call themselves that. They preferred the name ‘Wombles’

It was the reason why she was so late for this meeting in the first place. Amber had been at the departure lounge, making sure that the day’s two Wombles were properly kitted out before they ventured out into the city centre to look for more goodies.

She really had no business up there but she just had to see Miles before he ventured outside. He was single (well he was now), good looking and considering the circumstances, had a brilliant sense of humour. He’d only arrived a couple of days ago but had fitted in as if he’d been here from the start. Amber found him fascinating; she could tell that he’d been through a lot, his face told Amber more about his despair than his words did. The only piece of information she’d been able to prise out of him was that his wife had died in The Wasting and he’d stayed with her until the final moments.

He was due back in a few hours; she couldn’t wait to see him. Maybe she’d work up the guts to ask him for a drink. It wasn’t like he could take her to the pub or go to the pictures or anything, but she did know quite a few hidden places in the Institute where she could take him.

Would he say yes? Miles told her that he was thirty-eight this year. Back before The Wasting, she wouldn’t have even considered going out with a man almost old enough to be her father but her attitude had changed recently, she just hoped that his had too, considering he could still die next year

Apparently, the Techs in the research department were on the verge of a breakthrough regarding this instant death at forty mystery. She quickened her pace; perhaps that was the reason for this meeting. Oh God, she hoped so.

As she walked past a junction, Amber saw a young dark haired man a little older than her stagger before collapsing, it looked as though he was having a fit. He looked up, and then saw Amber. He held an arm out to her.

“Please help me,” he cried.

She dashed forward but before she could get to him, armed soldiers appeared from nowhere and surrounded the fallen man. What the hell was going on? The Institute had no military presence.

One of the soldiers noticed her rushing towards them; he spun around, and pushed her into the wall. “Did you touch him?” he shouted.

Amber pushed herself away from the wall; she looked into the brute’s cold blue eyes. “Of course I haven’t,” she said defiantly, “I’ve only just got here. Where the bloody hell did you lot come from?”

The man just looked at her stone faced, perhaps that question was too hard for the moron to understand. She tried to push past the soldier and help that poor man; Amber was a qualified first aider, she even had certificates on her bedroom wall.

“Will you get out of my way?” she said, when the soldier refused to move.

He responded by growling and raising the butt of his assault rifle. Amber cringed back, expecting him to hit her with it at any moment.

“Jackson! Don’t be a bloody fool.”

An older man pushed the other soldier out of the way; Amber couldn’t fail to notice the acid stare that Jackson gave the man.

“Who the hell are you lot and just what is going on?”

She watched several men in white protective suits load the fallen man onto a stretcher and carry him towards the research department.

“I’m Major Tyler, ma-am.” He glanced at her ID badge and nodded. “And you are Amber Barlow and you’re late.”

He turned and walked away, “Come along,” he said glancing back. With her head bursting with questions, she scurried after the Major, eager to get away from that Jackson bloke.

“So come on, what the hell is happening?” she tried to make her voice sound full of authority like she was a person of importance. “I asked you a question!”

The man just chuckled to himself. “You sound just like the missus, don’t you worry your pretty little head, missy. The Colonel will explain everything.”

He stopped outside the reception hall and stood aside to let her pass. This was no committee meeting, in fact, as she gazed around at the twelve women sat at the half empty tables, Amber saw that she was the only member present. All heads turned and stared as she entered the room. Amber saw that they too were just as bewildered as she was. This was so not right.

Amber saw the Major pointing to a chair; she made a point of ignoring him and hurried over to another table where a young dark haired woman flashed her a welcoming smile.

“Patsy, have you any idea what’s happening? I feel that we’ve just been invaded.”

The woman shook her head, “I was hoping that you’d be able to tell me as I haven’t a bloody clue.” She pointed to a soldier standing at the back of the room. “You see that feller with the dirty blonde hair and blue eyes?”

She turned around, trying not to jump when she noticed that the Jackson creep had followed her into the room, he stood by the now closed door grinning. Amber picked out the bloke that her friend was pointing at. “What about him?”

“Well him and a couple of others walked straight into the research department a few minutes ago and bundled us all out. His name is Daniel by the way and in any other circumstance I’d say that he’s quite cute.”

“Give your libido a rest for a second will you.”

“Sorry. Anyway, as you can imagine Graham threw a right wobbler and told them all to piss right off, he even picked up a test tube and threatened to infect them. The soldiers didn’t give him a chance to carry out his threat, the next moment; he was on the floor crying out assault as two of them sat on his back.”

She still couldn’t work out where all these soldiers had come from; as far as she knew, there was only one way in and that was through the main airlock system at the far side of the Institute, and she had just come from there. She watched a tall soldier enter the room and walk towards the main stage. By the reaction from the other soldiers; she guessed that this must be the Colonel.

“Where is Graham, Patsy? Come to think of it, where are all the men?”

Patsy shrugged, “I’ve been asking myself that same question ever since they ordered me in here. I don’t think they mean us any harm though, I mean our head technician did become pretty violent and they quietened him down without having to resort to violence themselves.”

Amber wondered if Patsy would have said those words if she’d seen those maniac’s eyes just before he nearly broke her face with his rifle.

The man on the stage tapped the microphone a couple of times, “Now that we are all here,”

She noticed that the man was looking directly at her and felt the colour rise to her cheeks.

“Good day, I’m Colonel David Hall. As I look around the tables, I see many anxious and confused faces that I can only ascertain are from our rather sudden arrival. Please put aside your fears as we mean you no harm.”

If that was the case, why did Amber feel like she had just been thrown into a cage full of lions?

“My men and a few civilians are what is left of the London Central Institute.”

She watched him survey the room, her eyes found the blonde soldier who Patsy had pointed out at the back of the room and his face had gone very pale. She wondered if he was re-living a recent memory.

“It took them just a couple of hours to overrun the London complex; we estimate that over four thousand lives were lost. We only escaped because my team was prepped for a mission.”

“Who did it?” shouted Patsy.

The Colonel didn’t look at her friend; his eyes found hers and stayed there.

“No human being could have been capable of committing those atrocities young lady. It appears that losing our older generation was only the start of our troubles. Those spore clouds have had a rather adverse effect on a few individuals; the stuff changed them into something beyond description and the resulting creatures really are the stuff of nightmares.”

They had all heard the stories that the scavengers had brought back about seeing unidentified shapes in the mist and hearing weird noises but they’d always assumed that it was just livestock from the country entering the city looking for food.

What if the soldiers were telling the truth?

Despite feeling like a naughty schoolgirl in a classroom, Amber raised her hand. The Colonel nodded.

“I’m sorry if I sound a little dubious here but our teams have never reported anything like that.”

The man sighed, she watched a smile play upon his lips, Amber failed to see what was so amusing.

“I understand that you are part of this Institute’s civilian committee?”

She nodded, “Yes, I joined a few days ago.”

That smile broke into a large grin, “Well, madam, it appears that your other committee friends have been hiding a few little facts. Those things and quite a few other nasty little beggars have been in your city for quite some time. The whole purpose of sending teams out was to determine the extent of the new infection.”

Amber shook her head; she refused to believe that Stephen and the rest of them would keep vital information like this to themselves. “I’m sorry but I can’t accept this.”

“Nevertheless Miss Barlow, those creatures do exist and they are right here in your city. One of the beggars almost succeeded in bringing down one of our choppers.”

“What about the two teams we have out already?” Amber just hoped that Miles was okay.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already dispatched a squad to bring them back.”

Major Tyler jumped onto the stage. “You are the first colony we’ve found still intact,” he said. “The bases in Oxford, Birmingham, Sheffield and Manchester now resemble abattoirs.”

He paused as a gasp went around the room.

“You were the last base to check. I’m sorry, but an attack is inevitable.”

A woman at the side of Amber slowly rose to her feet, “I hope to Christ that you’re going to tell us that this is a rescue mission.”

The Colonel took the microphone, “It is a limited evacuation.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Amber. “We have over four hundred people in the Institute now. How are you going to remove all of us?” She wanted to know where the rest of the committee were, should they be not here backing up what the Colonel was saying?

“We’re not,” replied Tyler. “We are only taking the women in this room.”

The room descended into chaos as the other woman started shouting all at once, Amber stayed silent, she was too busy watching the soldiers hurry over to the main door and wandering just what they were about to do. Amber turned back when she heard the voice of the Colonel fighting to be heard over the panic-stricken voices of the other women. She watched him remove his pistol from his holster and point it to the ceiling; she covered her ears but the report still deafened her.

“Thank you,” he said. “Before you all start calling me an inhuman monster, please consider what our alternative is. We leave you all here and move on to the York base and hope that the survivors, if there are any, are a little more grateful.”

The other women began to quieten down. Amber kept her mouth shut, she wasn’t an idiot, that man wasn’t going anywhere without his find.

“We will of course, leave some of our weapons here so the remaining people will be able to defend themselves should those things outside do manage to break in.”

Patsy stood up, she glared at the two men on the stage, “This is bollocks, there isn’t a chance in hell that I’m going anywhere with you lot, I’m not going to be a rat jumping off a sinking ship.”

That surprised Amber; she thought the woman would be the first one to climb onboard. Her friend went through men at an alarming rate. She was already getting fed up with her current boyfriend, Andy Summers. He had gone out with the first team.

“You really do need to look at the bigger picture. The human race is facing extinction; you ladies potentially carry the future of our race in your womb. You, me, all of my men have all been exposed in some way to the spore cloud above ground, who knows what it’s doing to our bodies. Our species needs babies, lots of them.”

Patsy reached across the table and grabbed Amber’s hand, “There is no way that I’m going with that lot.”

“You are all too important to risk.” Shouted the Colonel. He put his hands out, palm up. “Okay, I’ll put this another way. We are not leaving here without you.”

Amber watched one of the soldiers walk around the tables handing out a folded up piece of paper to the women.

“There is a remote base in Scotland and we have just enough fuel to reach it. We’ll be safe there, then we can start rebuilding. That piece of paper in your hands has the name of your new partner written on it,

“You can’t treat us like fucking breeding stock. What if we refuse then? Will you shoot us all in the head?” Demanded, Patsy.

The Colonel look appalled, “Of course not, we’re not murderers. As this is a government facility and as we are now in charge, we will consider you to be trespassing and you will be escorted off the premises. Now, if you’re quite done, will you please sit down, miss?”

The soldier reached their table and handed each of them a folded paper square.

“We leave in two hours, ladies. Until that time, my men will escort you to a secure place of safety.”

Amber opened the paper and read the name Sergeant William Jackson.

Chapter Three

He just had to get this goddamn mask off, the old seal rubbed against his sweaty skin and it was driving him bat-shit. Miles Gardener stumbled to a halt and took a deep breath whilst slowly counting to ten in his head; he tried to concentrate on what Amber had said to him over the radio just after the main doors had closed. He thanked Christ his partner, Edgar hadn’t switched his radio on yet, now that would be bloody embarrassing.

Once his shift had ended, he was going to make sure that he took her up on that enticing offer. Miles felt the guilt returning and quickly slammed it back where it belonged. His wife would have wanted him to be happy, he was sure of it, besides, it wasn’t like he’d been the one to make the first move.

“You only live once,” he muttered. In his case, he had about eighteen months left before he succumbed to The Wasting. “I may as well make the most of it.”

He only had another hour to go before they were due back, that was sixty minutes, he tried to work out how many seconds but gave up, Miles just couldn’t do the maths, it was just too fucking hot inside this bloody mask.

Maybe if he just took it off for a couple of seconds to wipe his face; Edgar wouldn’t know, he’d already lost sight of the man. This spore dust was pretty thick today, he’d hold his breath, not that it mattered, everybody he’d met had breathed at least some of this stuff in, a bit more wouldn’t hurt. Just the thought of that cool breeze flowing across his cheeks made him reach for the straps.

“Miles, are you okay buddy, why have you stopped?”

Shit, he considered ignoring the voice, pretending that the speaker in the helmet had buggered up but then he saw the bulky figure of his partner appearing through the mist.

Miles tapped the side of his helmet with one of his white gloves then put up his thumb with the other, hoping that Edgar would understand.

The other suited figure held up two thumbs and vanished back into the mist. Miles had seen that action performed in dozens of movies, he never thought that he would have to use it himself.

Oh God, of the many things he enjoyed before all this shit occurred, chilling out in front of a good movie was right at the top of his list. His vast collection of Blu-ray, DVDs and videos were the envy of all his friends in the online discussion groups he had joined. He often thought that he missed his films more than he missed his wife.

Miles Gardener was thirty-eight years old and until six weeks ago, had lived with his wife in a small two bedroomed-terraced house in Ipswich. They’d discovered that they were unable to have children a decade ago. The news had hit his wife hard, she’d set her life on having a big family.

It hadn’t taken Helena that long to start building up a doll collection. His movie obsession started a little later.

Their lives were safe and predictable, then the virus exploded across the globe, destroying half the population and forever changing the lives of the survivors left in its wake.

The infection had wiped out everyone over the age of forty. There had been no exceptions. His Helena had been forty-two. Miles had watched her degrade day by day until, after three weeks, she had finally passed away.

She had been one of the last ones in their neighbourhood to succumb. When their friends’ and neighbours were dying around them, Miles tried to convince Helena that she might be one of the lucky few who might escape. He hadn’t really believed the newly formed regional government’s propaganda, even when the lumps pushed up from under her skin and the hardened ridges began to grow across her knuckles and down her spine, he still hid her from the mobile euthanasia units.

They had said it was the only humane solution; the infected would be dead in a few days anyway. Why prolong the agony when a simple injection would solve everything. It would be over in minutes, they even disposed of the bodies. God, Miles grew to detest those plain grey vans driving up and down the deserted streets blaring out their hateful tannoy messages. They made it sound like they were offering to get rid of your old washing machine or tatty old armchair.

Miles had stayed by her side for the entire three weeks, reassuring her and repeating to Helena that a cure was just around the corner. Every day for that first week, Miles wanted to kill himself as his wife, sweated, wept and pissed out her bodily fluids and just like the dutiful husband, he cleaned her up.

It was halfway through the third week that he took the difficult decision that he had to leave her. Helena’s body had begun to dry out and now looked more like a sun baked dead frog than a human being. He had been foraging for food in one of the many abandoned houses near to the park where they lived when the idea of going rose to the surface of his mind. He had now gotten used to the fact that his wife was as good as dead, Hell, she hadn’t moved for three days, she hadn’t eaten in a week.

The posters had helped sway his decision. He’d been seeing them all over town, stuck in windows, nailed to trees. They all carried the same warning; ‘All hoarders will be shot’.

At first, he thought they meant food but it was the infected they meant. After three weeks, an infected body was completely devoid of all moisture, they were basically just bags of compressed spore dust and at the slightest vibration, the bodies would explode, releasing all this contaminated material into the atmosphere.

His wife was close to that stage, if the authorities found out that he hadn’t had her destroyed… He had run home to grab a bag of clothes and food.

The last thing he did before leaving was to sneak upstairs, he just wanted to see her one last time. As Miles opened the door, the wind caught the open window and slammed it shut. His wife literally detonated, Miles screamed then burst out of the room coughing and choking before vomiting up his last meal over the hallway carpet.

The mask was still irritating him but he felt that he could live with it. He knew why, it was obvious that walking around this strange city in dense fog while clad in this decades old diving suit was enough to knacker a healthy man, never mind a slob like Miles. The closest he had ever got to exercise was climbing the stairs to bed every night.

He’d done more working out these past few weeks than he’d done in his entire life. Miles got off the huge red brick building he’d been leaning against and took a few more steps forward, trying to get his bearings and hoping that he wasn’t lost. Edgar was a local; he claimed that he could walk around the centre with his eyes closed and still know where he was. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that ability.

The spore clouds around him were thickening up.

“Edgar, are you there, man?”

Oh, this was just great, it looked like there really was something wrong with these headsets after all, the led set into the side of the helmet flashed red then green.

“Hello?”

Miles felt fingers of unease creeping up his spine, this spore stuff really was getting thicker and thicker, this was his first mission out and the other Wombles had all told him tales of unearthly creatures moving about in the dense fog accompanied by loud rumbling noises. He thought they were just stupid stories designed to shit up the new recruits, now he wasn’t so sure.

“Edgar, come on man, this isn’t funny.”

The unease was now turning to panic.

His headset crackled and buzzed and somewhere beneath all that static, he thought he heard his partner swearing. Miles reached over his shoulder and un-holstered the weapon that the Institute had issued him with. He had never fired a gun in his life but holding the ancient shotgun in his gloved hands gave him the required incentive to move. Miles inched forward, still within eyesight of the wall, weaving the gun from side to side.

“Bugger this,” he muttered.

Miles placed the shotgun between his knees and wrestled the helmet off his head. He’d already breathed in the remains of his wife so he doubted that a little more could do any harm. Once his eyes were free of the scratched plastic visor, he found that it wasn’t as bad as he thought. His visibility had almost tripled; he could even make out the blurred outlines of the Victorian buildings around him.

“Edgar, where the hell are you?”

He saw something move to the left of him, Miles picked up the shotgun and hurried over, as he got closer, his companion came into view; both his hands were gripping the back of a bench. Something was clamped over his right foot.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?”

Miles raised the shotgun, it looked like a squashed cat covered in bright yellow fur, his friend’s foot was stuck down its impossibly wide mouth. The thing looked like it should be dead and Miles was going to ensure that it would be. He stepped back as a few black, segmented tentacles reached out from under the creature’s body and wormed their way towards him.

He failed to spot Edgar’s panic-stricken face behind his visor; he was too busy looking for the safety catch.

“Hang on, Edgar, I’ll get you free.”

Miles caught the sound of screaming echoing through his own helmet before his partner’s gloved hand pushed him violently to one side. The shotgun slipped from through his hands and landed on the creature. It let out an ear-piercing scream and let go of the foot, it slid out from under the gun and pulled its body across the pedestrian zone before slipping down an open drain.

Edgar pulled off his own helmet. “Jesus man, I thought you said you saw an expert on guns. Have you never heard of a spread pattern?”

Oh hell, he was right. If he’d pulled that trigger, it would have vaporised Edgar’s foot as well as the cat thing.

“Sorry, man,” he said, “I didn’t think.”

Edgar nodded, “it’s okay, I didn’t think either. I mean I have two feet, why didn’t I just stamp on the furry little fucker?”

“Nobody told me that those things were slithering around the bloody streets.” Muttered Miles.

He helped Edgar sit down on the bench.

“I don’t believe it,” gasped his friend, “Of all the things to get me, I never thought that it would be an infected rat.”

Miles looked at him gobsmacked, “You mean you knew about them?”

Edgar nodded, “We’ve seen them about but they’ve never been hostile, they usually scarper before you got within a few yards of them.”

“And that was a rat? Oh Jesus, it looked like its mum had been raped by a fucking octopus.”

Edgar stared at him, “Wait on, you really don’t know about them do you? I thought you said that you’d volunteered.”

Miles was unsure what he meant by that, perhaps the shock had begun to take effect, that leg did look pretty mangled.

“You need to calm down Edgar, look we’ll take you back to the Institute; they’ll patch you up in no time. I’m sure your leg isn’t as bad as it looks.”

Edgar shook his head, tears were pouring down his cheeks, “I can’t go back now, those bastards will just gun me down.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s another infection in town, good buddy, you thought that everyone over forty was bad enough? Oh Jesus, that was just the start of it.”

“I don’t believe it,” he whispered. “I mean, we’d have heard about it.”

Edgar laughed. “Oh hell, how naïve are you, man? We’ve over four hundred folk crammed like sardines in the Institute. What do you think would happen if word got out that there’s hundreds of fucking monsters, large and small roaming about outside?”

Miles’s shell-shocked brain struggled to adjust to the ramifications. “So the committee knew about this, does that include Amber?”

Edgar shook his head, “You’re sweet on her ain’t you. I doubt they’ll have told her just yet, she’s just their pretty public face.”

He grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, “I’ve been infected Miles, you’ve got to put an end to me.”

“I can’t do that!” he remembered his wife using the very same words; he turned away and shut his eyes, feeling his own tears running down his face. “There has to be another solution.”

“There isn’t. Do you think I want to die? In a few hours time, I’ll change into a monster too. You have to do it for your own sake.”

Chapter Four

Jackson flicked the safety off his assault rifle and made sure that the weasel-faced technician saw him do it. The weapon’s magazine was empty, at the order of Major Tyler, but the cowering man in front of him wasn’t to know that.

“Okay Mr. Claiborne,” said Tyler, “let’s try again shall we?”

Jesus, the man had those patronising tones down to a fine art; Jackson almost admired the toffee-nosed cunt.

“Why did you allow our specimen to escape? You see, I recall you telling me back in London that ‘thorough and steady’ were your middle names. Were you by any chance trying to pull the wool over my eyes?”

“I didn’t allow it to escape, it wasn’t me, Major.”

Tyler sighed, “Maybe not, but I placed it under your care, it doesn’t matter about the details, you’re still liable. Okay, Sergeant Jackson, put a single round through his kneecap please.”

The man squealed like a terrified piglet when Jackson raised his rifle.

“Could I not just cut his balls off? It’ll save on ammunition.” He leaned towards the man, “Then I could stuff them into your mouth and watch you choke, if you don’t bleed to death first. Would you like that?”

He thought that was a good piece of improvisation there but judging from the scowl on the toffee-nosed dickhead’s face, Jackson was the only one who agreed. Well he didn’t care less what Tyler thought, he wasn’t going to be around for much longer anyway, Jackson would make sure of that, nobody showed him up in front of his men.

“No Jackson, a bullet will do nicely I think.”

The technician squealed again and Jackson watched with disgust as a wet patch appeared on the technician’s crotch and slowly spread down to his thighs.

“I mean I thought it was still dormant, they aren’t supposed to become active until at least twenty four hours after infection.”

Tyler shook his head and tutted, “Don’t you take me for a fool, Mr. Claiborne; you told me yourself that it only took them a couple of hours to change.”

Jackson tuned the idiots out and went back to plotting his revenge. That Tyler had been pissing him off ever since he’d been assigned to Jackson’s unit, it was as if he had something to prove, Jackson figured that Tyler expected to get his own unit. It must have come as a bit of a fucking shock to find he was playing second fiddle to the Colonel.

If the toffee-nosed twat thought he could take his frustrations out on Jackson, then he had another thing coming. Jackson held grudges and acted upon them, as that bastard would soon find out.

He should have allowed Jackson to pistol whip that mouthy bitch, it’s what birds like her needed, they got a whiff of command and strutted about like cockerels on heat. He smiled to himself when he found out he’d been randomly selected to be shacked up with her, random my arse. Tyler had fixed it; he must have, considering that he somehow had magically ended up with that delectable piece of blonde skirt with the big tits.

It could have been worse; she wasn’t that much of a dog, just a gobshite know better. Jackson would soon fuck that attitude out of her. Even so, it still riled him that Tyler thought he had the right to pick and choose, it was another bad mark that Jackson intended to rectify.

“Well it looks as though the damage has been neutralised, but it was only due to the quick actions from my well trained men.”

Oh God, listen to him, he made it sound as though Tyler had personally nursed them up from raw recruits. What a fucking arrogant tosser. He silently sighed. Jackson was bored out of his bloody mind, he wanted to be out there and hunting the diseased fuckers down just like his squad had been doing back in London. Holding the hands of a bunch of wet-nosed brain boxes wasn’t a job for a grizzled soldier.

“Well just you be thankful that I’m in a good mood today, even so I’m putting you and your team on half rations for the rest of this week. Just you make sure that your specimen doesn’t get out again. Now get out of my sight.”

The technician hobbled down the corridor as Tyler turned to watch the man go, Jackson though just how easy it would be to take him out right now. He could thrust his knife up into his heart and the man wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Is containment in place Sergeant Jackson?” Tyler asked, without turning around.

“Of course it is.” He replied. Jackson was a little pissed that he’d dare to question his efficiency.

“The first team of ten have already been taken out. My men shot five of them.”

“Did the others escape?” he asked, turning to face him.

“The gunshots attracted a swarm of Grade Twos.”

Tyler closed his eyes and rocked on his heels. “I see.”

The Type Two creatures were the infected remnants of the country’s pet cats and dogs as well as a smattering of foxes, rats and the occasional badger. The secondary infection had changed them beyond all recognition, the nightmarish constructs belonged in a horror movie, the things even gave Jackson the shivers.

He’d once watched a small collection of the little bastards strip a panicking crowd of people to bones in less than a minute. Major Tyler had lost his young wife and child to a pair of Grade Twos a few weeks ago, just before he joined the unit. Jackson wasn’t supposed to know that.

“The swarm shredded the remaining five; they even got the two that had tried to make a run for it.”

“Is there anything else?” Tyler looked as if he was about to collapse.

Jackson should have gone through in detail just how the things ripped the men to bits, it was a shame there hadn’t been a woman in the team.

“Yes, three of the team that my men had shot got up and followed the Type Twos when they left the area.”

“Are you sure they were dead?”

“Of course I’m sure Major, their heads were almost vaporised, those men were definitely dead.”

“Well that’s a new one. I suppose I’d better inform the good Colonel of this new development. So how many of their personnel are still unaccounted for?”

“The second team, there were just two of them. They are due to report back in about ten minutes. My men are already in position”

Tyler nodded, “Is everything else completed?”

“Yes, all communication has been severed, our prizes are safely stored away and the remainder are in the process of being neutralised.”

“Good job, as per usual Jackson. Your attention to detail is remarkable.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? It was a bit too fucking late for him to start kissing Jackson’s arse, the bastard had already mucked his copybook, it was way too late to try and make amends.

Tyler turned around and walked towards the lift. “I don’t trust those technicians.”

That was probably the only opinion he shared with Jackson; as far as he was concerned they were closer to the animals they experimented on then proper humans.

“If I had my way, Jackson I’d have them all neutralised. Considering that it was probably some scientist who caused all this to happen in the first place.”

Major Tyler sighed as he reached the lift doors. “Personally, I think they are all pissing in the wind. The species is fucked, out only hope is to start again.”

He pressed the call button.

“It’s something I’m looking forward to,” said Jackson.

The door opened and he ushered the Sergeant inside.

“I’m glad you’ve reminded me, there is something I wanted to discuss with you. Your reputation concerning your treatment of the opposite sex is well known, Sergeant Jackson, so consider this to be your only warning. You will treat your new partner with the tenderness and respect she deserves; otherwise I’ll make sure that you regret the day that I walked into your life.”

Jackson kept his face straight while the lift doors closed, trying to keep his raging temper in check. Oh that was the last straw. That bastard was going to meet his maker very soon.

Chapter Five

Amber threw herself back on the bare mattress and thrust her bruised knuckles up into her armpit. After fifteen minutes of constant door battering, she reached the conclusion that nobody was coming to help her. She’d continued to bang upon that door even when all the others had given up. She couldn’t understand where all the other people were, the soldiers couldn’t have locked all them up as well.

Her logical and analytical mind went on vacation when that soldier marched her through the deserted corridors and thrust her into this room and bolted the door on the outside.

The pale blue metal door became that Jackson bastard. She punched and screamed and Amber remembered head butting it on one occasion. She planned to repeat the same actions on that ugly man with the piercing blue eyes and the stupid moustache when he eventually showed up.

She sat up and inspected her hand then gazed over at the undamaged door and sighed heavily. “Well then, you big bag of overwrought emotions, you’ve had your turn.”

Amber got to her feet and looked around her new prison, “I think it’s time to let the old logic back inside my head.”

As logic had calmly informed her; if those soldiers did appear and she was still in here, then that would be it, the next thing she’d see would be the evil face of Jackson pointing to a map of Scotland before pointing to his crotch. Amber shuddered.

“Oh hell, talk about a fate worse than death.”

Her eyes darted from wall to wall, there were no windows, no air vents, no nothing, those unwanted emotions threatened to make an uninvited comeback as she came to the conclusion that poor Amber was going nowhere.

Were the other girls close by? They couldn’t be that far away, this level was the only place in the Institute that had secure rooms, she hoped they had more luck in escaping than she had. Amber leaned against the door, refusing to sit back on the bed, sitting down would be a sure sign of defeat and despite the odds; she hadn’t yet reached that point.

Amber slowly walked over to the corner of the room, thinking hard. There must be something that she had missed, something obvious, it was only a storage room, not a prison cell.

Her eyes jerked over to that door. Amber heard something clang against one of the other doors further down the corridor, maybe one of the other girls got lucky and found something, a tool or weapon in their own prison. Oh God, what if the soldiers were coming back? Maybe the sound she heard was a key being thrust into the lock.

Amber heard the sound again, it was much closer and now it was right above her head.

“I don’t believe this,” she muttered looking up. “A drop ceiling, a bloody drop ceiling,”

She’d just spent the last fifteen minutes ruining her hand on a metal door when there was a perfectly good escape route just two feet above her.

“How could I have been so stupid?”

Amber watched one of the polystyrene tiles slide across before a friendly face poked through the hole.

“You ain’t stupid lass,” said Patsy. “You just haven’t seen as many movies as me.”

Amber scrambled onto the bed, she stood on the headboard and grabbed Patsy’s outstretched arm. Her friend pulled her through the hole and into the recess.

“Your elfin qualities have definitely been an advantage here, Amber. It would have been a struggle if you had tried to rescue me.”

Amber watched her replace the tile, “So which movie was it this time?”

“Aliens of course,” she replied. “Vasquez had just welded the door shut yet those pesky xenomorphs still kept coming. When the motion sensors showed the terrified marines the aliens had got into the room, all eyes automatically went up,” she grinned, “yes that’s right, they even have drop ceilings in the far future.”

It surprised Amber just how dark it was up here, she thought that the thousands of tiny holes in the tiles beneath them would have given them some light.

“You’d best follow my lead, Amber. We’re both balancing on top of a wall partition here, deviation to either side would mean dropping through the tiles, and that’s not recommended!”

The absence of light made it a little difficult to keep her balance; she had to use her fingers to probe for the edges of the tile connecters before she could move forward. Perhaps it wasn’t a good time to mention to Patsy that she had a fear of the dark, despite being relieved to be out of that cramped room, Amber was now wishing she had stayed there. She paused and took a deep breath.

“Amber, are you alright?”

She nodded then felt foolish for doing so, how was Patsy going to see her doing that? “I’m okay,” she said, a little shocked that her voice sounded so normal. “Must be just delayed shock or something, you know?”

“A few more feet, Amber and we’ll be home and dry.”

A rectangle of white light appeared in the floor a few feet from Patsy. It was the most beautiful sight Amber had ever seen.

“It’s doubtful they’ll look for us in here.” she said before dropping through the gap.

Amber reached the hole and peered down, away from her friend’s upturned face, she saw dozens of narrow metal tables, three at the far side of the room were occupied. They were right above the mortuary.

“Come on Lass, those poor sods on the gurneys ain’t gonna harm you.”

“Do you think they’ll look for us?”

“Oh yeah, you can guarantee that one.” She replied, helping her down.

“Have you ever spoken to Janice Lockwood?”

It took Amber awhile to place the name; the image of a dark haired woman with sharp features swam up from her subconscious. “Yeah, a bit loud, always obsessing about her nails.”

“Well she was in the room next to you, she crapped herself when I lifted one of the tiles. Can you believe that the silly cow wanted to stay?”

Amber wasn’t all that surprised, she may have a mouth on her like the Mersey tunnel but underneath that noise lay a very insecure woman. Janice lost her husband in an accident a couple of weeks before Patsy turned up. The poor woman had initially gone to pieces. Perhaps having a big, strong soldier boy was what she really wanted.

“Janice called me quite a few nasty names, you can bet a pound to a penny that the vindictive cow will tell them exactly where we went.”

“Oh shit,” Amber watched one of the tiles further down lift up and a young man with hard little eyes stared directly at her. She jumped down and looked at her friend in terror, “It’s too late, they know!”

Patsy’s eyes darted around the room then raced for the door with Amber close behind. She pulled open the door then to Amber’s astonishment, Patsy ran over to a pile of white sheets lying in the corner of an aluminium worktop.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” hissed Amber. She could hear the heavy thuds above them getting closer. Patsy placed her index finger over her lips; she threw her a sheet then pointed to one of the empty trolleys.

“You have got to be fucking kidding!”

Patsy shook her head and ran past her, jumped on the first trolley and pulled the sheet over her body; Amber glanced up before following her actions. As she pulled the cold plastic sheet over her head, she heard the first soldier drop into the room followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Her pounding heart crashed against her ribs. So much for that bastard Colonel’s rousing speech about females being like precious flowers. Another set of boots hit the tiled floor; at any second now, that sheet would be pulled off her face and the last thing she’d ever see would be those soldier’s piggy little eyes before he pulled the trigger. Oh God, why didn’t they just bleeding run while they’d had the chance?

The cold sheet made her nose itch; Amber was going to sneeze at any moment. Those soldiers, they hadn’t said a single word since they’d dropped down. Were they keeping silent so they could listen to any sound that could betray their presence?

She heard a cupboard door opening. Oh God, they were! The soldiers were searching the fucking room.

Amber tried to block out that itchy feeling and concentrated on slowing her breathing down. She strained her ears, listening to them throwing the contents of that cupboard across the floor.

“I’ve found some!”

Amber jumped; it was the first time either of them had spoken. The rustle of the plastic sheeting as she moved sounded thunderous to her ears.

“How many are there?” replied the other soldier.

She recognised that voice: it belonged to that arsehole who’d thrown her into that bloody room. According to the patch on the front of his uniform, he was called Hayder. What the hell were they doing? Then again, who cared, it was obvious that they weren’t searching for her or Patsy.

“It’s a full box,”

The excitement in that man’s voice was almost palatable.

“Brilliant,” replied Hayder. “A good start to our collection. Okay Pembroke, I reckon those women will have headed for the medical section.”

“But that’s three levels down, they won’t have gotten that far.”

“Fuck the girls!” Snapped Hayder.

Pembroke chuckled, “I intend to when we get to Scotland.”

Hayder sighed. “Stop thinking with your cock for a second will you? This is the first time that we’ve been let off the leash since the Birmingham disaster. They’re taking us to the middle of fucking nowhere, we ain’t going to be shagging 24/7 you know.”

“Well I’m going to try, buddy.”

“Good for you Pembroke, then what happens when you get bored of boning your woman? We need luxuries, man. Those pills in your grimy paws will be worth a fortune.”

Amber wondered if the Colonel knew that his great plan had already gone to shit.

“Look Pembroke, one of those tarts belongs to Jackson. After how that bastard treated us in London; I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. Let him look for his own woman.”

“Good point, let’s go shopping then.”

Amber waited for a few seconds after the door had shut before breathing out. “Patsy?” she whispered. “Have they gone?”

She blinked as the plastic sheet was ripped off her.

“Yes, they’ve gone,” replied her friend.

Patsy wondered over to the now closed door and peered through the glass, Amber eased her body off the metal trolley, hoping never to go through anything like that again.

“What do you think they took?”

Patsy shrugged, “Who knows or cares?” she walked down the side of the room, closing the blinds as she went.

“What are you doing? What if they come back?”

Her friend shook her head, “Why would they? Do you think they were going to climb back up there or something? Look, we need to get out of the Institute.”

Amber couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “What the hell for? All we have to do is lie low for a couple of hours; those soldiers will be gone by then.”

Patsy looked at her watch, “Your Miles would have understood that movie reference you know.”

The colour drained from Amber’s face. Patsy nodded to herself, “You’ve forgotten about him haven’t you.”

“But the Colonel said he was sending some of his soldiers out to bring them back!”

“And you believed him? We’ve already witnessed the actions of his heroic men.” She walked back over to the windows and peered through one of the blinds. “Here’s a question for you then. Where the hell is everybody, eh? Here’s another one, how will the rest of the people here react when they are told that the soldiers are stealing their women?”

Amber shook her head, “I guess they wouldn’t tell them, either that or they’d make something up.”

Patsy nodded, “You’ve hit the nail on the head there, lass, just like telling us that they were going to bring the teams back in.”

“Andy is out there too.”

It was Patsy’s turn to go pale. “No, Amber, you must have it wrong, only Miles and Edger were due out.”

“He took a team out before you started your shift, Andy didn’t want you to know.”

Patsy turned away from her and slowly walked towards the open cupboard with her face to the floor. “He didn’t want me to know?”

Oh Christ, maybe this wasn’t the best time to tell her that Andy had gone out looking for a ring. “He said he was going to get you a present. I thought he was only joking.”

She looked at Amber, tears were rolling down her face, “and now he’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard gunfire earlier on; I thought that the Colonel’s monsters were knocking on the doors.”

Amber couldn’t trust herself to speak, she had visions of the men’s horror struck faces as their comrades started to fall around them. Patsy was right, if there were monsters outside, that Colonel wouldn’t risk sending any of his men out there.

“Look Patsy, both teams have radios, all we have to do is get our arses up to the departure lounge and warn them.”

Her friend slowly nodded.

“And don’t give up hope just yet. Nine times out of ten, the teams are late to check in anyway.”

Amber hurried over to the door, “Come on Patsy, it won’t take us long to get up there.”

She spun around when she heard a muffled scream, as Amber turned; she caught sight of Patsy’s legs disappearing up through the ceiling.

Chapter Six

Miles didn’t need to see that those things were still behind them, he could smell them. Oh Jesus, the stomach-heaving stench made him wish that he hadn’t thrown his mask away.

The wet smell of decaying vegetables accompanied the creatures like a toxic cloud. Miles hadn’t breathed through his nose for over ten minutes now, not that it made any difference; he could almost taste the rancid smell. How his partner hadn’t noticed it was beyond him.

He crawled a few more inches and only stopped when he saw Edgar jerking to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

Edgar just shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether that meant that he didn’t know or to just stop talking. Miles turned and sat down, resting his back against a wooden board. He knew that they should keep moving; they needed to find somewhere safe so they could work out what to do next. He needed to stop anyhow, he was knackered.

Miles took an experimental sniff and found to his surprise that the smell wasn’t so bad now; maybe those things had gotten bored and buggered off, oh God, he hoped so. Something crashed to the floor on the other side of the shop followed by a bear-like roar. Shitting hell, they hadn’t gone anywhere.

Edgar continued his crawl and Miles saw the state of the carpet beneath his leg, the fibres had begun to rot away. Edgar was getting worse by the minute. It was Edgar’s mutilated leg that was the main source of the stench.

Why on earth had he insisted on coming in here in the first place? It didn’t make any sense to him. Why did Edgar choose a music shop? A hardware store or a supermarket would have been a wiser choice or, even better, a bloody gun shop.

When Miles had made it quite clear that he wasn’t about to leave him, Edgar had just clammed up, he’d spent nearly one hour following him around the centre, the only animation he’d shown was when he’d hobbled past this shop.

One of the televisions in the media department toppled over, Miles slid further down. Bloody hell, if Edgar hadn’t thrown that brick through the window, then those two monsters wouldn’t have followed them in

Miles saw something out of the corner of his eye; he risked a peek over the CD display. There were half a dozen black tentacles reaching towards the ceiling, they were just like the revolting things that caught Edgar, only a lot thicker. Each one of those vines was barbed, like rose branches. He imagined just one of those tendrils wrapping around his torso and shuddered; it would rip him in two.

Edgar tapped him on the shoulders and then handed him a pile of empty CD cases.

“What the hell do you want me to do with these?”

He didn’t look at Miles, his eyes were fixed on those tentacles as they felt their way across the ceiling, the things were growing longer with each passing second. Edgar pointed behind Miles, he almost screamed.

The other monster was copying, only its tentacles were a lot closer.

“Throw that pile towards the t-shirt display,” whispered Edgar. “Then run like fuck over to that staff only door over there by the listening booths.”

He thought Edgar had lost his marbles; they should be running towards the fire exit. Miles saw Edgar’s own CD pile fly into the air. When they came clattering down, some landing on the floor, other hitting the country and western section, the response from the tentacles on the other side of the room was immediate. They flowed along the ceiling at incredible speed before hanging down; some of them picked up the empty cases and crushed them. They didn’t retreat; they formed a lethal curtain, an impenetrable barrier. Their route back to the broken window had just been cut off.

Edgar hobbled as fast as his one good leg could take him towards the staff door, he glanced behind him, his face drained of blood. “Come on!” he shouted.

While Miles had been stood there holding the pile of CD’s the other tentacles had flowed towards him, they were now inches from his face. He screamed and threw the CD’s into the air then bolted over to the door. His heart almost gave out when he saw the black metal combination lock next to the handle.

“Oh Jesus, fucking God! What are we going to do now?”

Edgar just punched in five numbers and pushed open the door. Miles followed him through and slammed the door behind him.

“How the fuck did you know the code?” he asked, panting.

Edgar slowly began to climb the stairs, “How do you think you idiot? I used to work here a few years back, they never used to change the code back then. I figured they’d probably keep with tradition.”

He followed him up the stairs. “Bloody hell! What if they had changed the code? Did you ever think of that?”

Edgar looked back at him, “Of course I did, I did tell you not to follow me though. I need somewhere to rest Miles, I’m tired and things are happening to me that I can’t explain.”

Edgar hobbled over to a chair and collapsed into it; he tried to smile at him but it quickly turned to a grimace. Miles could not imagine how much pain he was in. That leg was getting worse.

Miles jumped and ran up the remaining stairs when something banged into the door.

“Don’t worry,” said Edgar, “they were probably just turning around.”

“How can you be so damn sure?”

“Do you honestly think that a thin wooden door would be able to keep them out? Like I said, they’re turning around, the buggers are both leaving.”

Miles placed his pack and weapons on the table and sat down opposite Edgar, relieved that he could no longer see the man’s legs. Edgar took his eyes off the battered Formica table and stared at Miles. After a few seconds, he had to turn away from the man’s intense gaze.

“You really do have to go, Miles. I’m changing into one of those things.”

Miles shook his head, “No way dude, I ain’t leaving you. I’ll get you back to the Institute somehow. Doctor Phoebes will know what to do.”

Edgar laughed, “Doctor Phoebes is a second class vet. I wouldn’t trust that old bastard with a cut finger. A fully equipped hospital wouldn’t be able to sort this mess out now; I’m too far gone.”

Miles pulled the radio towards him and began hunting through the channels; he didn’t want to listen to Edgar’s matter of fact statements any longer. He was the closest friend he’d ever had, despite only knowing him for a few weeks, and now, just like his wife, Edgar wanted him to leave.

After spending a few moments of searching through the static filled channels, he gave up and pushed the antiquated thing away.

“It take it from your pissed off face that the radio is still buggered.”

Miles felt the urge to throw the bloody thing on the floor, “I can’t get anything out of it.”

“I’m not surprised,” he replied. “They hadn’t exactly supplied us with the best equipment.”

He smiled, and then closed his eyes.

“Jesus! Are you alright?”

Edgar nodded, “I am now, all my physical pain has just gone away. It appears that my transformation has just reached a new phase.” He jerked his head towards the stairs, “They’ve just caught scent of a group of humans entering the city. You should be safe to leave here in a few minutes.”

“How on earth could you possibly know that?”

Miles jumped when he heard the sound of a window exploding. He pushed back his chair and ran over to the window at the far side of the room.

“Don’t get too close to the glass, Miles,” shouted Edgar. “It appears that out our friends haven’t forgotten you after all; they’ll still take you out if you give them the opportunity.”

Mile took his advice and stepped away from the window, he still saw the huge fog blurred shapes emerge from the building and disappear into the mist. He hoped to God that those other people would see sense and turn away before it was too late. He turned and gazed at his friend, he decided that it was probably best if he stayed where he was fore the time being. Edgar’s baggy suit now resembled a white balloon stretched over a pile of engine parts.

“I can now hear them all, Miles. I feel their insatiable hunger.” He looked across at Miles; his eyes were now as black as pitch. “I can also sense your thoughts too. The fear and confusion pulsing from you is strong, I can almost taste it.”

Edgar picked up the shotgun; he snapped it open and checked both cartridges before he clicked it shut.

“One shot ought to do the trick Miles but it’s best to be double sure.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Miles knew damn well what his friend wanted him to do.

“Don’t try to feign ignorance, I’m asking you to do this as a friend. Do you think I want to turn into one of those things?”

Edgar slid the shotgun across the tiled floor.

“I don’t have long left.”

Miles reluctantly picked up the shotgun. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Edgar shrugged, “Then your unwillingness will doom you; when I do finish changing, I won’t be able to control myself and I’ll eat you. It’s as simple as that. It’s another reason why our friends left. They knew that I don’t have much time left and you are supposed to be my first meal.”

A dozen segmented brown vines ripped through the suit fabric, they quickly grew down to the floor then whipped out and wrapped around the table legs.

“I only have a few minutes left before the rest of my humanity is buried beneath this relentless hunger that’s beginning to surface.”

Miles watched in horror as Edgar’s eyes began to divide; within seconds they transformed into something insectile.

“Before you do pull that trigger, you have to listen to me.”

Edgar’s arms and torso had begun to fill out.

“They know about the Institute. If those people huddling in that place think they’re safe then they have a Major shock coming their way.”

Miles watched the man attempt to get a hold of his suit zip with fingers that now looked like raw sausages. When he did achieve his task, Edgar released an audible sigh as he pulled down the zip. Miles turned away as thick cords of compressed vivid purple flesh burst out and landed on the table with a wet smack.

“There are seventy one more of what I’m about to become spread out in a three mile radius, they are all busy hunting down the remaining two hundred and eleven humans.” Edgar gasped, “Oh Dear Lord, both the crèches have gone.”

Miles shook his head, “That’s impossible. They’re well defended and besides, we would have heard about it.”

“On that piece of junk? Two tin cans tied to a piece of string would be more effective than that.”

“You’re lying.”

“Suit yourself. Two more humans have just died by the way. Look, if you stay in Leeds, you’ll be dead in a few days. You need to get into the countryside, you’ll be safer there.”

He laughed, “What’s the bloody point?”

“In another couple of weeks, every single one of those things will keel over and die and that includes me if you don’t have the balls to kill me now. They’ll all die at exactly the same time because that’s what they’ve been programmed to do.”

Edgar gasped, “Oh Jesus, I’ve only seconds left, be sure you do me good, Miles.”

The vines around the table legs were thickening up, his whole body began to expand. Miles took one step forward and raised the shotgun.

“This wasn’t some freak accident, there was no virus released from some secret lab. We’re about to be invaded, all the generals and decision makers have all gone, and the rest of you are being slaughtered like fucking cattle. When they come, they’ll flow over the land, destroying whatever’s left.”

He screamed, “Oh fuck, this is bad. Do it, Miles. Please man! Do it now!”

Miles took one more step forward and pulled the trigger.

Chapter Seven

Amber rested the back of her sweat-drenched head against the cool wall. She took a deep breath and cool, sweet air flowed into her burning lungs. The action threw her off balance and she had to slam both hands onto her thighs so she wouldn’t over balance.

She had lost them, for the moment anyway. How long would it take them to realize that their quarry had double backed on herself? Seconds or minutes? For the sake of her poor knackered body, Amber hoped it would be fucking hours.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that she knew this place intimately, those bastards would have collared her ages ago. Even so, this couldn’t carry on for much longer. If she didn’t find somewhere to hole up quickly, she’d be dead in the water.

The sound she’d been dreading, combat boots striking linoleum floor, reached her ears.

“Can’t you just give this girl a break?” she muttered.

Perhaps they’ll run straight past the left turning she took. They couldn’t possibly know which way she went, could they? The boots slowed down and Amber heard the muffled conversation of two male voices.

She pushed her body off the wall. The way her luck was running, just staying here and hoping those men ran past would surely doom her. She darted along the plain, white corridor, toward the first set of double doors.

Her hope of losing those two idiots down here had seemed like a good idea at the time. There was nothing down this part of the Institute save for a few dozen abandoned rooms and a maze of corridors that seemed to lead to nowhere. How the hell they had managed to keep up was beyond her, unless they were part bloodhound.

Amber wasn’t just trying to lose them down here; she also had a destination in mind. Despite losing her friend earlier, Amber still intended to get to the surface and warn Miles before it was too late.

She burst through the double doors and into a large, dusty room that must have served as a canteen sometime in the distant past.

When Amber first arrived here, the Institute was almost deserted. There were only a few survivors here. All trying to make sense of the incomprehensible blight that had taken away the older generation. The shock of what had happened had such a profound effect upon her psyche. Whilst the others attempted to find solace in alcohol or drugs or sharing their experiences, she took a different route.

Amber spent every hour of each day exploring and mentally mapping the interior of the vast complex. Finding and exploring all those forgotten rooms and corridors kept her traumatized mind away from thinking about the catastrophe.

She knew from her last visit down here that two more rooms after this one lay a two-foot rectangular panel recessed into the wall of a corridor outside the last room. In passing, it didn’t seem to be of any significance but upon closer inspection, the panel revealed an abandoned service lift. Amber knew without doubt that this was the lowest level so the only way would be up, hopefully toward the departure lounge.

As she weaved her way through the rusted metal tables, she heard the unmistakable sound of approaching boot steps; so the bastards had come this way after all. Amber had almost reached the exit when the doors behind her flew open.

“Keep fucking still, bitch or we’ll gun you down.”

“Bullshit,” she muttered, reaching for the door, “They wouldn’t dare.”

Hayder cursed, she risked a glance behind her and yelped when she saw them climbing onto the tables.

“Come back here,” he snarled.

Amber almost fell through the doors in panic. She got to her feet and saw another door a few metres to her left. Amber chose that route instead of running for the lift. There wasn’t a chance in hell of reaching the service lift before they would catch up to her.

The last time she was down here, she spent nearly a full hour going through all the cupboards and drawers. This area had always held her attention for more than a few minutes.

The doorway led into a kitchen area that looked like it had been frozen in time. The place was still fully stocked up and judging from the state of the antiquated equipment and the state of the cans of food in the cupboards, it hadn’t been occupied for at least half a century.

As she raced into the kitchen, she noticed straight away that one of the cupboard doors under one of the preparation tables was wide open. That door had been shut when she’d left, she’d stake her life on it. Amber wondered who could have been in here but she heard those boot steps getting closer and realized that it didn’t really matter.

There was no time to find a better hiding place, that cupboard would have to do. Amber climbed backwards into the cramped space and used the narrow slats cut into the wood to close the door.

Her stomach sank when the two soldiers rushed through the doors; oh this was just not fair. How could they possibly know where she was going all the time? Amber attempted to slow down her ragged breathing and attempted to relax. She looked at the two tins beside her knee and tried to imitate their stillness, pretty fucking difficult when sweat flowed into her eyes and her heart sounded like a bloody drum roll.

“Are you sure she’s in here?” asked Pembroke

This really wasn’t right; the bastard wasn’t even out of breath.

“Of course I’m bloody sure,” replied the gingered haired soldier. “We’ve just spent the last half hour running her down. She’ll be well fucked by now, it makes sense that she’ll go to ground.”

Amber watched them through the slats. The fuckers were checking everywhere.

“She’ll be well fucked by the time I get hold of her,” chuckled Pembroke as he pulled open a drawer.

“What the fuck are you looking in there for? How small do you think she is?”

“What do you think Jackson will do if we don’t find her?”

Hayder stopped pulling out pans from a cupboard next to him, “That option just doesn’t fucking exist.”

“But what if we don’t?” he persisted. “I still can’t believe we bumped into Jackson in the medical section.”

Hayder sighed loudly, “If you hadn’t looked so fucking guilty when he barked at you, I may have been able to blag our way through.”

“What are you on about? I didn’t look pissing guilty.”

“Bollocks, you looked as though he’d just caught you with your hand on his wife’s left tit.”

“It weren’t you he stared at though was it Hayder? His eyes drilled right into my skull.”

“It’s about time you grew a pair, Pembroke. I’ve told you before. Jackson sees the worse in everyone. You just need to act all offended and get all uppity back at him.”

Pembroke abruptly spun around. Amber let out an involuntary gasp. Oh shit, he was looking right at her.

“Did you hear that? I’m sure I heard a noise over there.”

She glanced to the side of her and silently moaned. She’d knocked over one of those tins and not even bloody noticed. How fucking clumsy could she be?

Pembroke giggled, “I do believe that I can see a painted nail. Hello in there? Do you want to come out and play with us?”

She picked up one of the tins and shuffled back, Amber didn’t intend to be captured without putting up some sort of fight. The man padded over, taking his time, grinning like a mad clown. She was so glad it was him instead of that other one. Hayder scared her. As soon as the bastard pushed his ugly mug through the opening, he was going to get this tin slammed right into his mouth. Amber wanted the fucker to choke on his own teeth.

Oh God, listen to her, as if he was going to poke his head in here like a bear groping for honey, he would shove his arm in either that or his pissing rifle. As he reached for the door, Amber crawled further into the tight space.

She yelped in utter shock as her legs fell out from under her, Amber looked back, panic bubbling up as she felt her torso slipping back. Oh Jesus. Someone or something had burrowed up from fuck knows where, right into the back of this cupboard. Pembroke opened the door and reached in with both arms. Amber didn’t know what scared her the most her falling backwards or the look of sheer terror etched on the soldier’s face.

“Grab my arms, woman!” he shouted.

She dug her fingers into the edge of the wood and fervently tried to pull her body up. Amber just couldn’t hold on for any longer, the interior of the tunnel was coated in a thin film of gloss black glutinous slime. Pembroke leaned further in, trying to wrap his fingers around her wrist but he just couldn’t reach. Amber’s already exhausted muscles couldn’t hold her any longer. Her fingers let go and she plummeted backwards, shrieking.

Before she had time to try to slow her descent, Amber fell through and landed on a pile of what felt like soft material. She dared to open her eyes and found herself looking up the hole she’d just fallen through and at the tiny features of Pembroke at the top.

That soft material turned out to be a thick carpet of huge, black mushrooms. She cried out in revulsion as the crushed caps and stems beneath her released a rank, foul stink. Amber rolled of the stuff, stood up, and wiped as much of the crap off her clothes as she could.

Where the bloody hell was she now? No way could this dark room be part of the Institute. It looked as though the cube shaped room had been hewn out of solid rock; was this a natural cave?

As Amber slowly turned around, she saw that the hole she fell through wasn’t the only one. Above her head were five more next to each other in a circular pattern. They remind her of the barrel on a revolver. She looked up and in the distance glanced pale blue sky. The exit looked like it was miles above her head, Amber reached up and gingerly touched the surface of the hole, it was just like the other one, gross and slimy.

“I won’t be getting out that way,” she murmured.

She padded back toward the opening she’d emerged from, stepping over that vile carpet of strange looking mushrooms. Amber crouched down and gazed up the hole. The face was no longer there. She wasn’t sure whether she was upset or relieved. The gradient didn’t seem to be too steep; if she could find something to dig into the side there may be a chance of getting out of here. Amber stood up, wherever, here was.

Opposite from where she stood there was a huge lump of dark stone jutting out from the wall, Amber made her way toward it, and as she got closer, Amber saw with surprise that it wasn’t natural. A human face had been carved from the rock. As her eyes got used to the dim light, she noticed more discrepancies. Close to the opening was what looked like a pile of broken stone columns, next to those were the remains of the statue of a naked man.

“Oh how fucking fantastic. I’ve fallen into what could be one of the greatest archaeological finds of the decade.” Her voice echoed around the room, “Yippee, I’ll be famous.”

Then her eyes saw something else that wasn’t so ancient. Amber’s stomach flipped when she noticed a pile of glistening bones next to that broken statue. She looked around and saw with growing horror that there were another four piles. She took a step back and gasped when her foot crushed what felt like a snail’s shell. Despite knowing what it must be, Amber still looked down.

She’d just stood on someone’s finger bone. Amber felt her gorge rising when she saw a piece of ragged material sticking to a thick bone next to her other foot. The realisation of what this place was quickly dawned on her.

“Oh Jesus,” she moaned.

She was standing in the middle of a creature’s lair, a creature that obviously wasn’t a fucking vegetarian. Amber then saw several more openings in the side of the cave walls. Her heart lifted slightly; maybe one of them wasn’t so steep.

Amber’s heart sank back down when she heard a snuffling noise coming from one of those openings. She frantically looked around the cave for anything to use as a weapon. After what she’d been through, no way did Amber intend to end her day as a pile of wet bones.

That broken statue held the only source of useful material; apart from the bones, the place held nothing else but fucking slimy, horrible, disgusting mushrooms. She hurried over and kneeled down, trying to search for any piece of rock that wasn’t too large to carry. Oh Christ, the noise was getting louder and louder. Amber grabbed the biggest piece and struggled to where she thought the thing was going to emerge. She lifted the rock above her head and waited. Her patience was rewarded when a bright blue furry sausage shaped body slowly twisted out of the hole. It looked like a big, blue, wiggling maggot. Amber screamed and dropped her stone on its body.

The broken fragment of statue fell through the creature’s body as if the thing was no more substantial than thick porridge. The rest of its body fell from the hole; she watched as the flesh quickly liquefied, then jumped back as dark blue syrupy goo spread across the floor of the cave. The only thing from the creature that hadn’t dissolved was a ring shaped object lying in the middle of the liquid. It took her a moment to recognise it; when she did, an inadvertent hysterical laugh escaped from her mouth. Amber bent over and grabbed it. She stood under the holes and read the writing engraved on a little silver disc, it said – ‘my name is Muggles. If found please ring this number.’

She threw the collar on the floor then sat down and closed her eyes. Amber wanted to go to sleep, to rest her poor body and mind; the idea had plenty of appeal. Maybe everything would be back to normal as it should be.

Amber groaned when she heard the sound of another of those things making its way down a tunnel. She couldn’t take much more of this. Amber’s eyes snapped open; she looked up and immediately saw the absence of light in one of the holes. This time though, the noise emanating from the creature had a different quality, it sounded more insectile. She hurried to the blocked hole and looked up.

This time she didn’t scream, she couldn’t, the nightmare slowly wiggling toward her left Amber unable to speak. Apart from the colour, this monster bore no resemblance to the other one. This thing was armoured; blue chitinous plates covered the front of its body but it wasn’t those that made her bladder want to release its contents, it was the array of pincers and spikes positioned around the monster’s head.

Amber backed away from the hole; escape or die were her only options. That thing was built like a bastard tank. Rocks would just bounce off it. The creature roared; it must know she was down here, waiting to become its next meal. Amber tripped over some of the bones and fell into the pool of blue goo.

“I ain’t for eating, you bastard,” she snarled. Amber snatched up a broken femur and studied the shattered end; she could do a lot of damage if she dug that into that thing’s eye.

“Digging,” she uttered. “Of course, oh you dozy cow.”

Amber scrambled along the floor, looking for another broken bone. She looked back to that hole, hoping that thing would take its sweet time. Her questing fingers slipped around another bone fragment. Amber grinned in triumph and ran to the nearest hole. She didn’t care where it led, anywhere was better than here. She wiggled her way inside and used the bones to drag her body up along the tunnel. Within seconds, she was fully inside. Amber whimpered when she heard the sound of the creature dropping onto the cave floor. She doubled her efforts to climb out of there, wondering how long it would be before it realised where she had gone.

Chapter Eight

There had never been a single moment in Jackson’s past when another living being had made him feel so uncomfortable. Perhaps that description was a little mild for how he felt in such close proximity to this monstrosity. The creature fucking terrified him. Of course, as far as that pissy technician and his gaggle of simpering dickheads were concerned, not even the huge growling thing safely behind those bars could faze him.

He tore his eyes away from its liquid, black stare and turned to face the little man; it annoyed Jackson to watch how his associates scampered around the man like pathetic puppies. He saw love and adoration in their eyes, along with a touch of fear. How could anybody be scared of this spineless cunt? He wondered how they’d react if they knew that their idol had pissed his pants a little earlier on.

Even as he turned, Jackson knew that he still had its undivided attention. Of course, it would continue to stare at him and him alone, it was obvious. The creature saw Jackson as a threat, why the fuck would it look at the puppy handler and his pets? It had probably already assessed them and put them into the category of food.

Jackson also hoped that his presence unnerved the creature a little.

“So then, Sergeant Jackson, what do you think?” asked the technician, “Do you not think he’s rather impressive?”

Jackson reined in his temper and grabbed his trouser fabric to prevent him from slamming his fist into the moron’s smug face. How dare he talk to him as if the wormy bastard was his equal. Jackson gave one of the technician’s followers an acid glare and gained a little satisfaction in watching the dork squirm like an anxious rabbit.

He gave the technician a cold smile, “I’m pleased to see you found the time to change your trousers after your little accident.”

He turned back around and stared into the creature’s eyes, relieved to find that his horrible feeling of helplessness had vanished. Jackson put his behavioural aberration down to shock, the shock of seeing one of these things so close and in the flesh. He glanced at his watch; his Corporal was taking his time. Maybe it wasn’t just the shock of seeing this thing. Perhaps his feelings also had something to do with what he had planned. Jackson took a deep breath and told himself to focus on the job at hand.

He’d seen plenty of the bastards up close back in London but only in the middle of his crosshairs and even then only for a moment before he pulled the trigger.

Those encounters couldn’t possibly have prepared him for the real deal. It did play on his mind that the puppies and pants pisser didn’t appear to be frightened of the creature, perhaps they saw it as just another lab animal, something to be analysed, dissected and studied. Still, the fuckers were shit scared of him so his concerns were irrelevant.

He watched it move closer to the bars; it yawned, showing off its very short teeth. What an impressive creature. It made all the Type Two variations look like dolls in comparison, except maybe the cat/rabbit hybrids. Those armoured fuckers were well scary.

This creature, according to reports, was a little smaller than average, even so, it towered above all of the men. From head to base, Jackson estimated that it must be at least thirteen foot tall. Like the others, its arm and legs had been absorbed into the main body. In fact, with that unwieldy looking box shaped torso and snakelike neck with that very human-like head sat on top; it cast a rather comical appearance. Jackson would smirk if it hadn’t been for just how efficient they were at dispatching their human prey.

That mouthful of needle fangs and whip like appendages attached in several rows along its body were not to be laughed at. The corrosive fluid stored in the tips of those tendrils could turn a man into a pool of steaming fluid in a matter of seconds.

“We believe that its transformation is now complete. With Tyler’s permission, we’d like to move onto the next stage.”

Jackson reluctantly turned his back to the creature and gazed at the little man wondering how long they’d all last if he pushed them into the cage. His head jerked up when he heard the sound of the lab door opening. Corporal Brickman and three soldiers entered the room. As Jackson expected, the soldiers openly gawped at the huge monster, it pleased him to witness his NCO displaying a little more self-control.

The Corporal nodded just the once. Jackson nodded back. The signal had been given. His wheels were now turning.

“Excuse me, Sergeant, but are you listening to me?”

Brickman grinned, he knew what was about to happen. Jackson casually backhanded the man, taking satisfaction in watching the side of his head smack against the wall before he crumpled to the floor.

His men rushed forward and grabbed the technician’s startled associates.

“Is everything in place?” asked Jackson.

Brickman nodded, “Our girls are safely stored away and the rest of the Institute’s staff have been dealt with.”

“Good,” replied the Sergeant. “Put the queer little fucker and his puppies with them. What about our men, have they stayed loyal?”

Brickman abruptly spun around, “Don’t take them that way, you fucking morons, go through the back of the lab.”

Jackson resisted the urge to wave at the nerds as his men dragged the confused technicians past him.

The Corporal turned to Jackson and took in a deep breath. The Sergeant impatiently waited for the inevitable bad news.

“Most of them have. Three have gone AWOL, another two refused to betray Tyler, and Hayder and Pembroke still aren’t back.”

“Don’t worry about them two,” he replied.

Jackson jumped away from the cage when the bars behind him shook. He spun around and watched its appendages flick out towards Jackson.

“What’s it doing that for?”

“Do I look like a fucking expert?” he snapped back, then he noticed a couple of blood spots on the wall beside him. “It looks like I may have been a bit too rough with our technician.”

Jackson grabbed a discarded lab coat and wiped the wall clean. The creature calmed down almost immediately.

“What about the pilot?” he asked. “Did he give you any trouble?”

“He did whine a bit when I explained the revised plans but soon shut his trap when he realised that there would be more women to go round.”

Jackson snorted, “It doesn’t take much to persuade them does it. Right, what about the cunt?”

“He’s on his way down.”

“Good, in that case, you’d better make yourself scarce.”

Jackson watched Brickman follow the soldiers through the back of the lab. His Corporal was a bloody good man. He felt a tinge of pride, knowing that it had been him and him alone who’d shaped that skinny teenager into a well-disciplined and fearless individual.

The pivotal moment, the time when Jackson really saw what he’d crafted was whilst they’d been holed up in that coffee shop near Kings Cross station two weeks ago.

Jackson’s men were cut off from support, completely out of ammunition and being chased by at least eight of those monsters.

While the rest of his men had collapsed at the back of the shop, licking their wounds, Jackson joined Brickman who’d taken it upon himself to guard the door. The Corporal hadn’t spoken a word since they’d barely escaped with their lives battling out of St. Pancras station. Jackson wondered if the man was losing his bottle.

“We need a new strategy,” murmured Brickman, whilst gazing out of the window into the fog-shrouded street. “Got to think outside the box.”

Jackson pressed his face against the glass; he pushed the uncomfortable thought of his best man losing his nerve to the back of his head. He then slowly smiled as he noticed what appeared to be a transit van in front of a lamppost, parked on the opposite side of the road. That would be large enough for them all to pile in. Unlike the centre, the roads in the north of London were practically deserted.

Jackson opened his mouth, about to ask the Corporal if he still remembered how to hotwire a vehicle when both the lamppost and the van slowly shifted to the left. This couldn’t be happening, his blood ran cold. Jackson had almost led his men into the waiting tendrils of the things they’d be running from.

“They’re changing the guard,” said Brickman, “posting a new sentry.”

Did Brickman actually know that fucker was out there?

The Corporal sighed, muttered something incomprehensible under his breath then sat down and picked a laminated menu off the table.

“You’d better get your shit together,” growled Jackson, “or I’ll throw you out of the shop myself.”

Brickman shrugged, apparently unconcerned by the Sergeant’s threat. He ran his gloved finger down the list of the overwhelming coffee varieties. “What difference would that make? We’ll all be dead in a few minutes anyway.”

He then threw the menu onto the floor then jumped out of his chair. “Can’t you see what those fuckers are playing at?”

Jackson involuntary jumped back, he’d never seen Brickman raise his voice before; the man’s calmness under pressure was legendary.

The Corporal ran to the door and pulled it open, and an audible gasp erupted from the back of the room.

“Oh fuck, you really have lost it haven’t you,” said Jackson reaching for his sidearm.

Brickman smiled, his eyes followed Jackson’s hand down toward his holster. “What were you thinking of doing with your pistol, Sergeant, throwing it at me? Listen to those things out there, moaning. Don’t you get it? The bastards are talking to each other.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “That’s utter fantasy, they are just animals.”

Brickman shook his head, “Come on man, make the leap. Those fuckers were once human, it’s our brains that give us the advantage over the rest of life on this planet. Why the fuck would they wish to lose that?”

“You honestly believe that don’t you,” replied Jackson, “So that thing out there has just told his chums where we are?”

The Corporal shook his head smiling, “Oh no, they already know where we are, Sergeant. They’ve herded us here like a flock of dozy, fucking sheep. They were the ones who chose this place, not us.

Jackson walked over to the rest of his men, leaving Brickman with his delusions; of the six that had left the London complex, this morning, only four excluding himself and Brickman had made it this far. He glanced down at Hayder, Hicks, Neild and Kirk, wondering just how the fuck they were going to get out of this mess.

Hayder and Neild had each found themselves a pair of kitchen knives, while Hicks mopped Kirk’s damp forehead with a strip of material. The lad looked like he was drifting in and out of consciousness. At least he’d stopped screaming which was a blessing. Kirk had been unfortunate enough to step into one of the creature’s discarded acid puddles. The corrosive fluid dissolved everything, boot, flesh, even bone, all the way up to his ankle.

“They’re requesting back up,” shouted Brickman. They can’t get us in here but the Type Two’s sure as fucking can.” He hurried over and snatched the knife out of Neild’s hand.

“What the fuck are you playing at Brickman?”

“Do you remember what happened to Julie?” asked Brickman as he rolled up his shirtsleeve.

Jackson shuddered, that was one incident that he’d never forget. The week before, three of them, plus a guide had been climbing out of a broken window, each carrying carrier bags full of not so fresh fruit and vegetables. Their objective was a small supermarket and their guide used to work there and she just so happened to know a way to get in the building without having to go through the steel shutters.

Their guide slipped and cut her thigh on a glass shard. The poor woman had sliced open her femoral artery. Her blood sprayed from the wound like a geyser. Jackson knew the woman was beyond saving. Before they had time to react, out of nowhere, a continuous cascade of moans filled the air. Julie added her own to the chorus; they all knew what that sound meant.

He and Brickman dropped their bags and kneeled before the dying woman, at least they could make her final moments comfortable, knowing that they were safe in this alley; the monsters couldn’t get them in here. Screaming from the other group member caused them to look toward the exit. Hundreds of Type Twos swarmed toward their position, they crawled and leaped over his men; Jackson knew exactly what they were after. He picked up his bags and fled, leaving the shrieking woman to her fate.

“We both found out that day that fresh blood sends them into a frenzy,” said Brickman as he turned rested the blade along his wrist. “It’s been an honour to serve with you, Sergeant.”

Jackson grabbed the man’s arm, “Don’t you even fucking think about it, I need you alive. What the fuck would this achieve?”

“It would create a diversion; allow you and the men to get out of here. While they’re fighting over me, you can slip out through the fire exit.”

Jackson shook his head. “No, no way. I’m not letting you do this, there’s got to be another solution.”

They both jumped as a pair of hands grabbed their legs.

“I’ll do it,” said Kirk. “I’m dead anyway. That stuff is still eating into my body. Now give me that knife.”

Brickman looked at Jackson who slowly nodded. He pressed the handle into Kirk’s trembling hand.

“Thank you,” said Kirk.

“Remember me.”

The injured man let out one gasp then plunged the blade into his stomach.

Jackson wiped his eyes, surprised to find tears there. Kirk had given his life for the squad; Brickman would have done the same if he hadn’t stopped him. The qualities of honour and loyalty were alien to people like Tyler.

Jackson looked at the closed door; he heard the bastard’s footsteps echoing toward the lab.

“My actions are justified,” he murmured.

The door opened, if the Major seemed surprised not to see the technician in the room, he gave no indication.

“I’ll give you just five seconds to explain to me just what the fuck you’re up to, Jackson.”

The Sergeant turned and walked up to the cage, he slipped the bloodied shirt between the bars. Ever since the incident in the café, Jackson had listened and discussed Brickman’s ideas with him. The Corporal was quite a perceptive young man and his insights into how these fuckers ticked had taught Jackson a lot.

“What are you doing?”

The Sergeant just hoped that the knowledge he’d gained wasn’t going to kill him. He watched three oily, black flexible pipes emerge from under the creature’s base and slither toward the shirt; as it sensed the blood soaked into the material, it let out a deep moan.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” exclaimed Tyler. “What’s it doing that for?”

Jackson removed his secret smile before he turned to the Major. He made sure that the man couldn’t see the shirt.

“We need to find that technician, Sir. The slimy fucker has lost it. When I came in here, he was talking to this monstrosity as if it was a baby. When he saw me, he fled.”

Jackson moved to one side, Tyler’s eyes widened.

“I believe he’s been feeding human subjects to this thing. Two of my men have been reported missing in the last hour.”

He watched Tyler approach the cage, “It’s okay Sir, it’s quite docile at the moment. To prove his point, Jackson grabbed hold of the bars. He gazed into the creature’s black eyes, hoping to fuck that this bastard would sense Jackson’s intent. The Major joined him by the cage.

“So this is what they look like up close.” He reached for his pistol. “Let’s see how bullet proof they are.”

Jackson stood back one pace and waited for the man to have the gun in his hand before he moved; he expected the creature would know what the man had planned for him. Jackson grabbed Tyler’s arms and pushed him against the bars; the man struggled like crazy but Jackson was ready for that, what the Sergeant didn’t expect was for Tyler to ram his head back. He hit Jackson smack in the middle of his forehead, the man let go and fell back. He groaned and shook his head to clear the dizziness.

“I’m going to gut you for that, you fucker.”

Despite having trouble focussing, he rushed forward then stopped dead when he heard the other man cry out in agony. Jackson’s vision came back and what he saw almost made him throw up. The creature had pushed out dozens more of those pipes from under its base. Each one was wrapped around the Major’s struggling body, he gazed in horror as they forced Tyler’s body through one of the gaps.

As the creature bent over the mutilated corpse, it abruptly pressed its head against the bars, it looked at the Sergeant then slowly winked. Jackson whimpered before fleeing.

Chapter Nine

Miles crouched behind a cardboard display and peeked around the edge; he watched the furry horde of sharp teeth, pincers and spikes scurry past the bookshop.

“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” he muttered. “What the fuck are those things?”

He took a deep breath before standing up. He couldn’t believe just how close he’d just come to being pulled apart by that lot. He knew what Edgar had told him; that the smaller animals like rats and cats had been changed, hell he’d even seen one of them up close and personal but he never in his life realised that there would be so fucking many.

“You’re never more than six feet away from a rat,” he murmured. Who had said that to him now? Then it clicked. A couple of years ago, the biscuit factory where he worked had called in pest control due to three pigeons roosting inside the ceiling. He remembered sitting down in the canteen with one of the men who took great delight in recounting his past work related experiences as Miles attempted to eat his cottage pie.

For the first time today, he wondered if trying to save Amber really was such a good idea after all. He got to his feet and walked further into the bookshop and away from that broken window. From what Edgar had said, the chances of the woman still being alive were very slim and growing slimmer as each minute passed. Would it not be best if Miles just forgot about the Institute and made his way out into the country?

He ducked down again when a huge shadow passed in front of the window; that was one of those big bastards out there. Was it tracking him, did that thing know he was inside here? According to what Edgar had said, they could track each and every remaining human so the prospect of getting to safety now seemed more appealing than ever. If they did have their own version of sat-nav what chance did he have of staying alive for more than a few hours?

Miles stuck his thumb into his mouth and bit down; the self-inflicted pain helped him to plough through the self-pity that stuck to his psyche like wet shit to a blanket. He refused to believe that he had seriously considered leaving her in there. He didn’t know she had perished and should know better than to make such an assumption.

Amber was the only person left in his life who cared about him and if he chucked her on the scrap heap then he may as well end it here and now.

“Well done,” he muttered, “an excellent speech now, tell me how you’re going to find the Institute.”

Miles stood up; he brushed himself down then smiled. “Fuck off, self-doubt. You ain’t going to get your own back that way. I’m in a bookshop, you fool.”

He took one more glance toward the window then padded over to the map section; there were bound to be some city maps over there. Miles walked past the History and Science section and stopped by Film and Music. He sighed; one quick look wouldn’t hurt. He’d spent many hours searching through movie books researching film stars and looking for obscure films, that had been way before he’d discovered the internet. Miles picked out one particular book he remembered buying nearly a decade ago. The action movie reference bible was renowned for classifying every movie from every country spanning back to the 20’s; he must have read his own copy from cover to cover at least twice, it made fascinating reading. This was the updated version, and the last ever version to come out now.

Miles was about to flick to the last few entries when his eyes caught a flash of blue and green just by his foot, he assumed it must have been a dropped book until from the corner of his eye, he saw it move.

He jumped back and his eyes darted down. The same type of abomination that had taken a chunk out of Edgar’s leg stared back at him. Miles gasped and threw the book at it. He didn’t stay around to see if he’d hit it, he spun around and raced for the stairs at the back of the shop. Oh shit; he then remembered that he’d left the gun in that record shop, how stupid was that? He could have dropped that thing with one shot.

“And you’d have brought the rest of them in here with the noise.”

The book hadn’t stopped it, he heard its claws clacking against the wooden floor. The sign beside him told Miles that there was a coffee shop on the top floor. If it managed to follow him up the stairs, he’d make his last stand behind the counter, hopefully with a nice big knife at his disposal.

Miles took the stairs two at a time when he reached the next floor, he looked behind him, stairs weren’t stopping it and to make matters worse, another one had joined it, this one though made the abomination look like a cuddly teddy.

“Oh fuck. I’m dead.”

This one resembled a bright blue-segmented worm covered in thick plates of armour. To make matters worse, if that was even possible, hooks and claws protruded from its front. This nightmarish construct looked like it had escaped from the imagination of a fucking lunatic. It was the size of it that sent his mind spinning; it must have been as big as him. Miles turned back around and raced through the Fiction section, painfully aware that they were gaining on him.

Somehow, alerting all the other monsters with noise from his shotgun didn’t seem so important now.

“I should have kept it,”

Miles changed direction and headed away from the next set of stairs; if he did get to the last level, he’d be trapped up there with no way of escaping and from what he’d seen of that other creature, he’d need more than a fucking steak knife to take that thing down. He ran past the Horror section and then skidded to a halt. Bookshops didn’t just sell books anymore. Miles picked up an armful of paperbacks and launched them one by one at the approaching creatures. The assault appeared to confuse them; the armoured creature then reared up and attacked a bookshelf next to it. Miles turned and ran through the Science Fiction section thinking how apt it would be if those things attacked and slaughtered him in amongst all these alien invasion stories.

He then slowed right down; something had changed, he controlled his heavy breathing and listened.

“What the hell?”

They’d just gone, he couldn’t hear nor could he see them. He peered around the bookcase, wondering if the little bastards were attempting to sneak up on him. Miles didn’t see them but he did spot something he wasn’t expecting.

Sat at a table in front of him was a young man a few years younger than Miles. He had his head buried in what looked like a romance novel. Miles guessed his age to be around nineteen, he was a big lad, his shoulders and arms were huge. It was muscle created by hard, strenuous labour, not gym work.

The boy slammed the book shut and ran his forefinger down the spine. “Look at what I’ve done,” he exclaimed.

Miles thought the boy was talking to him until he noticed the boy’s eyes were gazing at the bookcase to the side of Miles.

“They’ll never be able to sell this now.”

Miles coughed. The boy screamed and dropped the book on the floor.

“Sorry,” said Miles. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He picked the book off the floor and handed it back to the boy. “If it helps, I don’t think anybody would want to buy it anyway.”

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive,” he replied. “I’m Alistair, by the way.”

It hadn’t taken the boy long to regain his composure.

“These silly love stories are really popular, granted, with me being twenty five, I really should be reading war stories or horror books.” Alistair sighed; he opened the book and flicked through the pages. “It’s weird, really. Until all this happened, I was never interested in reading. My deity of pleasure was the soaps on telly.”

Miles glanced behind him, there was still no sign of those things. He wondered if he ought to leave this guy here and make tracks before those creatures returned. He had no intention of overstaying his welcome. Miles suddenly wondered how this kid had managed to evade the creatures.

“Look, I’m sorry, I can’t stay. Do you want to come with me?”

The lad shook his head, “No, sorry I can’t. I’m Alistair by the way. Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve already told you that. I don’t suppose you have any food do you? I can’t remember the last time I ate something…” Alistair furtively glanced around the store. “Something normal.” He whispered.

Miles shook his head.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Well is there any chance of you passing me that really thick hardback by your right hand? That should keep me going for at least a week.”

Miles jumped when something under his table moved. He took a couple of steps forward and crouched down, “what the fuck is that?” he exclaimed.

Alistair let out a bitter laugh. “I bet it looks really gross now. I stopped looking a few days ago.”

Thick, black cords of what appeared to be creeper vine had burst through the floor tiles and entwined around both Alistair’s legs and the legs of the table; upon closer inspection, Miles saw hundreds of needle-like spines pushed into the boy’s skin. Around each spine the flesh looked rotten, leprous. Miles turned away and stood up. He felt gorge rising up. What the hell was it? It reminded him of an insect caught in a carnivorous plant.

“Oh, yeah that,” replied Alistair. “This is mother’s way of punishing me. I put bleach in her tea. I also put wee in and loads of other stuff too. I was supposed to look after her when she was bed-ridden.”

Miles yelped as the two creatures brushed past him, Jesus, he hadn’t even heard them approach. They took no notice of Miles and jumped on the table. He watched gob smacked as the large creature hopped across the surface, purring.

Alistair turned to Miles, “Best you don’t watch this. It’s pretty gross.”

It grabbed Alistair’s face and pulled his mouth down. The creature’s jaw yawned wide and a thick, wet, green pipe slid out and pushed into Alistair’s mouth. Miles watched a bulge appear in the pipe that flowed along the length before stopping at the boy’s mouth. The boy swallowed. It didn’t take him long to realise what was happening, that grotesque thing was feeding the boy like a mother starling fed its chick. By the look of terror and pleading showing in Alistair’s eyes, he wasn’t a willing participant.

After three more bulges, the creature withdrew its feeder and dropped into Alistair’s lap. Miles could hear it still purring.

The boy licked his lips then wiped his hand across his chin, removing a dribble of bright pink glutinous fluid. Miles didn’t even want to imagine where that stuff had come from.

“There’s a fire exit down by the children’s books. Take the stairs to the roof. It’s how I got in here before mother managed to trap me.” He brushed his hand across the thing’s scales then bent down and lifted the other one onto the table.

“I’ll keep my mother’s sentinels secured whilst you make your escape. Please hurry though, if these do catch you, I’m afraid we’ll be meeting again.” Alistair smiled. “The next time though, this one will be feeding me with you.”

Miles, nodded and hurried over.

“Wait a minute!” shouted Alistair, “You still haven’t passed me that book.”

Miles scooted back, grabbed the hardback and placed it on the table before running toward the Children’s section.

Chapter Ten

There is was again! She stopped crawling, sat back on her knees and placed her ear against the cold metal wall. Amber could definitely hear something scraping; the noise was audible even over the constant hum of the generators.

It reminded her of a swarm of insects, thousands of legs crawling across the floor at high speed. Amber shivered, probably not the best of comparisons to use in her current situation. She noticed a small grille set into the floor, a bit further along the ventilation shaft. Amber slowly crawled towards it, hoping to God that the images flowing through her head were totally off course.

Amber silently groaned as she stared through one of the narrow gaps. Her imagination was wrong, this was even worse. Hundreds of cat-sized creatures hurtled along the corridor below her. Each one was subtly different from its neighbour. It was like a sea of multicoloured death flowing across the carpet. She silently crawled over the grille, thanking the Gods that she remembered just how large these shafts were and trying not to imagine what would have happened to her if she’d stayed down there.

Amber pulled herself along, heading for the three-way junction, further down the shaft. She hoped the shaft leading up would eventually take her to the departure lounge and freedom.

“Please, let it be so,” she murmured.

As Amber approached the junction, she discovered that her plans to reach the surface had effectively been scuppered. The two shafts leading off were half the diameter. Her world had just collapsed.

“Oh, this is so fucking unfair. I’m not that thin. Haven’t you put me through enough shit today, fate?”

Amber assessed her options, not that she had a vast amount to choose from. She definitely couldn’t go back the way she came, those things would still be in there. She closed her eyes, remembering her frantic climb up through that hole. When she dropped out of the hole and spilled onto a soft, blue carpet, Amber had actually thought she was in the clear until she saw the state of the corridor. Dozens of similar sized holes honeycombed the walls. It didn’t take her long to realise that if she didn’t get out of here, she’d be dead. Amber got to her knees and peered down the hole she’d just climbed up, the creature wasn’t there. That didn’t make sense, Amber was sure that it was right behind her.

There were two doors at either side of the corridor.

“Where am I now?” this was another part of the complex that she hadn’t been to before. Just how large was this place? One thing was certain, wherever she was now; they had more money to splash out on a more expensive decorator. Carpeting down, framed prints of landscapes hung from the wall, even oak wood-effect doors. Amber hadn’t seen this anywhere else in the Institute.

It looked rather homely, well, it would have done before the creatures hadn’t swiss-cheesed the walls.

Amber ran to the nearest door. Predictably enough, the bloody door was locked. She sighed and ran in the opposite direction. As she attempted not to stumble over chunks of fallen masonry, she heard the unmistakable sound of the creatures sliding along the tunnels, she glanced behind and saw two heads poking through a couple of tunnel mouths, beside that locked door.

She put on an extra burst of speed, relieved to see the other door standing wide open. Amber raced forward, desperate to get away from those monsters.

“Oh, Jesus!” she cried, as she entered the darkened room. The place resembled an abattoir. There were bits of bodies, in various stages of decomposition, arranged in neat piles across the floor.

Those things were following her in here, she could hear their progress as they slid along the carpet. She’d stumbled into another of their larders. What the hell was she going to do now? There didn’t appear to be any way out, until she spotted the metal grille hanging down, held onto the wall by a single screw. Beyond the grille was a ventilation shaft, large enough for her to climb into.

She crawled past the two smaller shafts. Amber gave them both the middle finger then cursed the builders for making her journey so damn hard. It seemed ironic that she’d discovered more of this building’s hidden places in the last few hours than in all the time she’d spent exploring.

As Amber moved slowly forward, she wondered who the unfortunate souls in the plush area of the Institute were. At first, she thought that they were bits of bodies the creatures had found and just deposited them there. But it seemed more likely that those people were down there all along.

People with money and power perhaps? The local movers and shakers. Amber got the impression that she’d just stumbled into what was left of the new headquarters of the new government for the north of England. Odd that, considering that’s what Amber thought they were trying to achieve.

If that renegade army hadn’t turned up and if those people hadn’t been killed by the tunnel monsters, would that crowd of high flyers have stomped up into the upper levels in a few weeks time?

Hello, riff-raff. You’ve done a splendid job in getting things back up and running. Now we’re in charge. Was she being too cynical?

“Not cynical enough,” she muttered.

From what she’d witnessed, the sudden death of everyone over the age of forty hadn’t exactly brought the younger generation together in harmony. Amber froze as an inhuman shriek echoed down the maintenance shaft. Was one of those things in here with her?

Oh, Jesus. She strained her eyes, trying to see anything moving further down the shaft. This was just terrific, even if there was something there, it’s not as if she could outrun it, Amber couldn’t even turn around.

She took a couple of cautious steps; there was something ahead, an orange glow, but she didn’t think that it was anything malevolent. Not unless the monsters now had glowing eyes.

Encouraged by the fact that the blood-freezing scream hadn’t been repeated, she carried on crawling through the shaft. Amber quickened her pace; the urge to get out of here became ever more urgent.

That glow gained in intensity; she almost whooped with joy when it turned out to be an access panel, large enough to allow her to escape.

“Calm down, lass.” She muttered.

She wasn’t going anywhere if it was locked, considering the shaft narrowed a few metres past that panel.

Amber resisted the urge to wrench open the panel, at least for the moment, she wanted to see what was down there first. She peered through the slats, seeing nobody down there moving about, not that this piece of information was all that surprising. Amber gazed down into a laboratory but had no idea which one, the Institute had several. She wasn’t used to looking at the Institute from this perspective.

She didn’t even know which floor this was. Crawling through all those shafts had buggered up her sense of direction.

“Like it really bloody matters, lass?”

She pushed her fingers through the holes, gripped the metal and pulled. The grille came up easily, Amber should have been more prepared and not assuming the worst. She would have grinned in triumph if it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d just slammed the back of her head against the metal shaft. Amber pushed the grille out of the way and poked her head through the opening.

Now she knew where this was. Unbelievable, she’d come full circle. This was where Patsy worked. Amber was near enough back to where she initially started.

There was still nobody around, not that she expected to find a friendly face, but after what she’d just experienced, any face would be welcome, as long as the owner was still alive and human.

She dropped down and wandered along the narrow aisle, gazing into the rows of glass jars full of milky fluid. This laboratory shouldn’t be this empty. Could they have all gone? Amber stopped by a glass jar larger than her, what if the creatures had rampaged up here too? No, she ruled that thought out, she’d have heard gunfire whilst she was still crawling through that shaft.

If the rest of the Institute was as empty as this, she could be at the departure lounge in a few minutes.

“It’s about time that I had a piece of good luck.”

Amber turned and as an afterthought, tapped on the side of the glass.

“It’s not a fucking fish tank.” A familiar voice said, close to her ear. Amber yelped and tried to run.

“Oh no you don’t, bitch.”

She felt her head yanked back as a hand grabbed her hair.

“You ain’t getting away from me this time, snarled Jackson.

He wrapped his hand around her wrist and let go of her hair. “So, where’ve you been hiding?”

She kept her silence, determined not to allow his gorilla to antagonise her.

“To be honest, I thought that you’d be dead by now.”

Amber gazed defiantly into his piercing, blue eyes and kept her mouth shut tight. She braced herself for the inevitable sneering blast of insults, no doubt followed by a couple of slaps. Instead, he giggled like a naughty schoolboy. The sound was so unexpected that at first Amber thought she’d imagined it, until he did it again.

“I don’t think the fish likes you very much. Odd that, considering how much of a cold fish you are yourself.”

Jackson tapped three times on the glass; a stream of bubbles immediately rose to the surface. He then tapped two more times.

“It’s all in the sequence; you see, now it thinks it’s feeding time.”

Amber choked back a horrified scream when a mutilated face pressed up against the inside of the jar. Despite every cell in a body telling her to flee from this abomination, Amber stayed still and stared into the jar, she needed to know who it was.

His cheeks, chin, and forehead looked pitted, like a golf ball. Tufts of bright, green wisps of sponge covered the rest of the man’s face. The eyes then snapped open.

“Oh, Jesus!” she gasped. “It’s the Institute director!”

“So, the cat hasn’t got your tongue.”

“You evil bastard, what the hell have you done to him?

Jackson growled, his face contorted, Amber resisted the urge to shrink back as the man’s jolly facemask slipped to reveal the man’s true mind-set. “I didn’t do this,” he snapped back. “This wasn’t my fucking doing.”

He dragged her down the aisle, “It’s those scientists, they just can’t fucking help themselves. They aren’t happy unless they’re messing about with stuff. Experimenting, they call it. Bullshit, they’re like kids with new toys.”

Jackson suddenly stopped, turned and waved at the thing in the glass jar. “Those goggle-eyed goons have had their fun fucking about with test-tubes and Bunsen burners. It’s time to fly out of here.”

Amber tried to escape from his grasp. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He laughed. “Too fucking right you’re not, me and my men now have a bountiful supply of hot chicks. You’re superfluous to requirements. I’ve decided to fuck females that are a bit more pliant, a little more accommodating than a frigid bitch like you.”

He pulled her out into the open and toward a huge cage. “Don’t you worry though, love. I’ve found the perfect match for you.” Jackson pulled back the latch and opened the cage door. “Someone who’ll appreciate your fiery temper.”

Jackson threw her inside and locked the door, “Adios, bitch,” he shouted as he ran toward the laboratory door.

Amber pressed her face against the cold metal bars and watched him shut the door behind him. Something behind her shuffled towards her, something very big.

Chapter Eleven

The glare from the sun cut into his eyes like knives. Miles cried out, slammed his eyelids down and staggered back. When his heel slipped off the top step, Miles instinctively reached out with both hands.

He managed to grab the metal rail bolted to the wall.

“Fuck me” he uttered.

Miles turned, sat down on the top step and blinked the tears out of his eyes. How close had he been to tumbling down those fifty-six hard concrete steps? He knew there were fifty-six because he’d counted them on the way up.

“I’d have broken every bone in my body.”

Miles sighed; he brushed the dirt off his knees then looked over his shoulder. That spore cloud had just gone, leaving no trace.

The only clouds in the sky were the normal ones, white and fluffy. As he looked into that beautiful blue sky, it felt as though everything was back to normal. A couple of pigeons landed on the roof of a stone building across the street, then the illusion was shattered when the screaming began.

He jumped up, ran through the door and out into the bright sunlight but the noise was abruptly cut off before he managed to reach the edge of the building.

Miles skidded to a halt and slowly turned in a circle, drinking in the bizarre sights in this new and terrifying world. The view took his breath away. Once again, the city bustled with life but none of it was human. He stepped towards the edge, crouched down and stared into the city. Those things were everywhere. Thousands of the smaller creatures swarmed across roads, pavements and pedestrian zones.

Peppered amongst the profusion of primary coloured nightmares were the behemoths. Miles only saw a few of them but as far as he was concerned, one was too many. After getting up close and personal to two of the things in that shop, he’d rather have a continent between him and them.

Each behemoth had a collection of creatures clustered around it, sliding over each other’s bodies whilst stroking its vast flank and long neck with their legs and mandibles. They reminded him of worker ants caressing their queen.

Several of the creatures stopped stroking the monstrous nightmare stationed opposite the city library and suddenly shot away in a tight group. They scuttled towards an abandoned double decker bus parked beside a sandwich shop. Three beetle-like creatures, painted in vivid red climbed through two broken windows on the lower floor.

Within seconds, a child’s terrified screams shattered the silence. Miles watched with horror as one of the creatures pulled a small girl out of the bus window. Miles turned away, unable to watch. Her screams were abruptly cut off; he could only hope that her death had been quick and painless.

Edger was right; those fuckers knew the location of every human in the area. They were using the smaller creatures to collect them.

“Like a general directing his troops.”

How long would it be before it was his turn to be collected? Miles glanced back at the door. It wouldn’t take them that long to get through that. After a few moments, he plucked up enough courage to look down into the street. Thankfully, there was no sign of that little girl.

None of the creatures stayed close to the bus, why should they. They’d uncovered their prize and were now heading back to the general, who no doubt had fresh instructions. Miles discovered that the huge monster had already selected their next target. The behemoth was staring directly at Miles

He jumped up and ran back towards the door. What the hell was he thinking of by trapping himself on this bloody roof? He grabbed the edge of the door and thanked the lord that none of the bastards could fly. At least none that he’d discovered, anyway. He opened the door wide, desperately ticking off what options he had left. He was sure that this building would have somewhere safe to hide, a cellar or strong room but what good would that be? Was he not supposed to be getting back to the Institute? Miles barked out a bitter laugh, some knight in shining armour he’d turned out to be.

Miles looked down those stairs and a pair of large orange eyes stared back up at him. Oh, fuck. It was that blue armoured bastard. It must have followed him. He fell back and slammed the door shut; it wouldn’t take it long to get through that, the door was only thin wood. The door shuddered.

“What the fuck do I do now?”

He pushed both feet against the door and looked around the roof. That kid had entered this building through that door so there must be a way off. The door shuddered again, he got the feeling that blue bastard had just been joined be his pal. Miles listened to them scratching at the wood; this wasn’t going to hold them for long. The only other object on here with him was an oil drum, on the other side of the roof. Miles gingerly removed his feet, stood up, and sprinted across. The drum was full to the brim with stinking water, there was no way that he’d be able to move that.

Behind the drum was a small pile of sweets; a Mars bar, two Twix’s and a Milky Way. Had he just stumbled upon Alistair’s secret horde? He saw a few more wrappers closer to the edge. Miles picked up the Mars bar and followed the trail. He laughed aloud when he saw the ladder.

“Of course! How else could he have gotten on here?”

The metal ladder led from the roof of this building, across a narrow alley and into the open window of an office block. Where Alistair had found it was beyond him. Miles imagined the lad lugging that bloody thing up a dozen flights of stairs and wondered why he’d gone to so much bother. The door behind him splintered and the question flew from his head. He yelped and climbed onto the ladder. It wobbled when Miles put his weight on it but he didn’t hesitate. He’d have rather plummeted to his death than have those filthy bastards consume him. Miles edged his way across, his ears attuned to the sound of those things scurrying towards him. What if some of those things were already inside that other building? He could be unwittingly crawling to his own doom.

“Shut the fuck up, Miles.” He muttered. “Isn’t your situation bad enough already?”

He reached the window and threw himself inside. Miles looked back and saw both of the creatures already on the ladder.

“This is for the little girl, you filthy bastards.”

He pushed the ladder off the windowsill. It and both creatures fell into the alley.

Two more of the things reached the edge of the building; they saw Miles staring at him and growled before turning back. He wondered what had happened to Alistair. Had they punished him for letting their prize escape or was the lad still sitting at that table, reading his books?

Miles sighed, too many questions. He turned around and took in his new surroundings, how long would he have before they cornered him again. His stomach growled, he’d dropped that Mar bar before climbing onto the ladder. Looks like he’d have to starve for a while longer.

This room reminded him of his old desk job back in Ipswich. Then again, he supposed the thousands of other office buildings scattered across the country would have given Miles similar nostalgic memories. They all seemed to follow the same generic pattern.

He padded past a mahogany coloured desk on his way to the open door then stopped. Miles gazed at the monitor sat on the desk, next to a black keyboard. Its previous owner had covered the edge of their monitor with stickers; he recognised a Dalek and the Tardis but none of the other pictures. At his old insurance company, none of the employees would have been able to deface company property like that. His boss, Martin, would have had a seizure if anyone had placed stackers over their monitor. Miles closed his eyes, remembering the occasion when his boss had bollocked Miles for bringing his Empire Strikes Back coffee cup to work.

“I’m sorry for getting you into trouble.” Whispered, Miles.

His boss had lost his job because of what Miles had done.

For weeks after the coffee cup incident, Martin had attempted to make Miles’s life as miserable as possible. He’d eventually found out that Martin believed that films with daft robots and spaceships belonged to the teenage and under population segment. Martin had made it his oath to rid Miles of this childish passion.

Just three weeks before the Wasting outbreak, Miles had broken into the man’s office and deliberately spilt a cup full of cold coffee over Martin’s desk. He’d ensured that a dozen folders belonging to the company’s most treasured clients were scattered over the desk before he knocked the cup over.

He remembered that intense surge of savage glee when he saw the old man’s face when he opened his office door the next day. He also remembered the terrible guilt that ate into him when he discovered that Martin had been sacked. The man only had a couple of years left before retirement. His whole life revolved around that company.

“How many people in my life have I let down?” he said, sniffing.

He pulled the stickers off the monitor, screwed them into a ball and threw them on the floor. Miles hurried out of the room before the place could trigger any more bad memories.

The room led out into the narrow corridor. He saw a reception counter at the end and opposite that was a vending machine, even from where he stood; Miles could see someone had broken into it.

“Could that be the source of Alistair’s food?”

He ran along the beige carpet, hoping to God that the lad hadn’t emptied the machine. Miles picked up a packet of crisps, stuffed them into his front pocket and grinned when he saw the huge pile of chocolate bars that had spilled onto the floor.

Miles tore the wrapping off a dairy milk bar and took a huge mouthful whilst wondering if there was a cold drinks machine somewhere around here. What he would do for a can of Coke.

“Or a bottle of beer,” he said, before biting off another chunk of chocolate.

He picked up a couple more chocolate bars, pulled out the crisps and shoved the bars into his pocket. Miles dropped the crisps back on the floor.

“Never much cared for salt and vinegar anyway.”

As he pushed through a set of fire doors and padded into a large conference room, his optimism rose a little. Despite their huge numbers, they were still only animals. Given time, a large number of the fuckers would probably be able to eat their way through the half a dozen doors that separated him from the streets, but by that time Miles could have escaped into another building.

He now saw how Alistair had been able to travel across the city and why he’d lugged those bloody ladder up those stairs. Most of the buildings were relatively secure; it was the on streets where the danger lay.

“And I threw the ladder away.”

He wandered over to a window a looked out. He saw none of the behemoths but he did see plenty of the smaller creatures clustered over a small white commercial van. Could there be someone trapped inside there? If that was the case then he hoped they were able to drive away and out of danger.

“And take them all with you so I can get away.”

He couldn’t see any of them on the street directly below. What chance did he have of running across the street and reaching the next building before any of them noticed? Miles figured that the chances were good that he could make it as long as the next building wasn’t locked up. It also seemed that it was the only choice he had left.

“At least I still have a choice.”

He hurried through the conference room and through the next set of doors, looking for the stairway. It would be beneficial to his journey to find some sort of tool, something to aid him in breaking into a building should the need arise.

He abruptly stopped beside by a red fire extinguisher hung off the corridor wall. He had just realised that he still didn’t know which direction he ought to be going in. the Institute was in the centre, that bit he knew. Miles should have used the opportunity to locate the place while he was on that roof.

“You’re a bloody idiot, Miles. That’s what you are a …”

He shut his mouth and pressed his body against the wall; he’d heard something shuffling towards him. Miles lifted the extinguisher off its bracket. There was no way that he was going out without a fight. The noise grew louder.  He twisted the handle and jumped out, screaming.

A long haired man, wearing a black jacket and a bright blue pair of flared trousers screamed back at him before falling backwards with his filthy hands covering his face.

“Oh, Jesus,” gasped Miles. “I’m ever so sorry. I thought you were one of those things.”

He put the extinguisher down on the carpet and helped the stranger up.

“I’m fine,” replied the man. “Wow, talk about a close shave. Who’d thought an extinguisher could be used as an offensive weapon. The buggers are everywhere aren’t they.”

The man smiled, displaying a perfect set of white teeth. They seemed so out of place in such a haggard looking face. Miles wondered if they were false.

“Listen to me rabbit on, old motormouth, that’s me.” He held out his hand. “Sorry, it’s been just ages since I’ve seen another face.”

Miles gripped the man’s hand, trying not to cringe, his flesh felt odd, spongy. “I’m Miles.”

“Cool name. I’m Dustin. My woman is downstairs; she’d love to meet you.”

Miles nodded, glad of the company, even if he did appear to be a bit weird, he mentally shrugged, say that, Dustin didn’t seem as odd as Alistair. He looked harmless enough.

“I don’t suppose you have any beer on you?”

Miles shook his head, he then grinned and pulled out one of the chocolate bars.

“Not quite beer but you can have it if you want.” He said, handing it over.

Dustin received it as if the bar was pure gold. “I’m almost speechless,” he uttered. “For me? Man, you hardly know me yet you’re offering to like break bread. Oh, hell. This is so uncool.”

He pushed the bar back into Mile’s astonished hands then fled down the hall. “I’m so sorry.” He shouted back.

Miles blinked, what the hell had he done wrong? Had he just offended him?

“Wait up!” Shouted Miles but the man had already gone. Miles ran after him, he had to know what he’d done. More importantly, Miles wanted to find out how the man had stayed alive.

Miles saw a set of doors slowly closing at the end of the corridor and put on an extra burst of speed, he didn’t want Dustin to get away from him. As he reached the doors, Miles thought he saw something bright blue out of the corner of his eye but when he looked back, there was nothing there.

“Fuck off, Mr. Imagination. I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment.” Miles pushed open the doors and found himself on a staircase. He gazed up and down the stairwell but saw no sign of him.

“Shit, I’ve lost him.” Then he remembered Dustin saying his girlfriend was below and raced down the steps. Miles heard a door a few flights down swing shut; he nodded to himself, knowing he wasn’t far behind. Miles reached the bottom floor and pushed through the doors, grinning. He saw his quarry stood statue still, a few metres away. Miles still had the chocolate bar in his hands.

“Are you not hungry?” Shouted, Miles.

The man slowly turned his whole body, “Oh, man. Why did you have to do that? Now she’ll want to meet you and that ain’t gonna end in smiles.”

A human-like head attached to a black serpent neck slithered out from between Dustin’s leg. Miles backed away but found his path blocked by a dozen of the bright red beetle creatures.

“You should have stayed where you were,” whispered Dustin as tears cleared a pink path down his dirty cheeks.

Chapter Twelve

The short burst turned the two attacking creatures into several chunks of bloodied green fur. Jackson changed his magazine and fired another volley into the advancing swarm of creatures. The things finally appeared to be getting the message. Jackson watched several of them break off from the rear and slither into a ventilation shaft. He wondered if the little bastards had been taking pointers from that now dead frigid chick.

“Good work, Jackson.”

He nodded to Colonel Hall, wishing he’d have put this twat in the cage along with Tyler. “We’ve still got a fair way to go yet, Sir. I’m not sure if the ammo will hold out.”

Hall slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and removed a long dagger from his side. “In that case, chaps, we had better conserve what little ammo we have.”

Jackson looked at Brickman who shrugged back. The Colonel may have been a pompous fucker but he wasn’t a coward. Jackson grinned and followed his superior’s example. Hall’s spontaneous actions had just bought him a few more minutes of life.

“They’ve all gone,” said Brickman. He looked at the Colonel “Do we keep to the planned route or follow Jackson’s idea, Sir”

“Why are you even asking me that bloody stupid question? Of course we stick to the planned route, I’ve no intention of allowing these nightmares to kill any more innocents.”

Jackson decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea to inform this dickhead that his men had already disposed of the civilians. The three of them were the only live humans left on this level. The rest of his men plus the few chosen girls were already on the roof.

Jackson pulled out his own knife and carefully inched forward, keeping his eyes on that broken grille. They were going to the wrong way, deeper into enemy territory. They’d already passed the stairway that would have taken them straight to the roof a couple of minutes ago. In retrospect, it may have been a better idea to kill Hall there and then, but just before they’d reached the junction, a huge swarm of the furry bastards had almost turned him and the others into burger meat. At the time, it made more sense to keep him alive, they needed all the help they could get.

“Look out!”

Jackson felt something hard scrape across the back of his ankle, a moment before Brickman shouted his warning. He dived forward before spinning around with his knife out in front of him. Jackson saw a large red insectile animal scuttling towards him, its overlarge pincers clacking like crab claws. Jackson shouted out before thrusting his knife deep into the creature’s soft underbelly. The thing screamed before rolling over. Jackson grunted then pulled the blade out.

“You’re knife’s dripping, old bean. Best get it cleaned up before we continue.”

Jackson stared at Hall. He got to his feet and walked up to his superior without taking his eyes off the man. “Brickman.”

The other man snatched the long knife out of the Colonel’s hands.

“What’s going on!” shouted Hall. “Answer me.”

Jackson watched the thick blue fluid drip off the metal then sighed loudly. It didn’t seem right that those fuckers should piss out blue blood, it just wasn’t normal. Jackson lunged forward and pushed the knife up through the base of the Colonel’s jaw. The man let out a surprised ‘ack’ before falling back and collapsing against the wall behind him. Jackson watched Hall’s crimson life fluid bubble out of the wound and nodded in satisfaction.

“Look at that, Brickman” he said, grinning. Jackson wiped the bloody blade across the Colonel’s trousers. “At least he still bleeds the proper colour.”

Brickman nodded then quickly turned away. Did Jackson just notice a touch of doubt in the big man’s face just then? He pressed the tip of his index finger against the blade, and then drew tiny circles across the metal.

“It had to be done, you know that don’t you?”

Brickman took the magazine out of the Colonel’s fallen weapon then searched through the officer’s pockets.

“Did he really need to die? I mean, couldn’t we have just left him here?” Brickman turned his head. “Tyler was a cunt; he got what he deserved, but Hall looked after us.”

He crouched down and rested his hand upon the big man’s shoulder. The man didn’t flinch. Jackson smiled; he gained reassurance that Brickman trusted him completely. It would be so easy to thrust this knife into the man’s chest.

“I didn’t want to do it, Brickman. You need to believe this. There are certain things that I should have told you about him, about those fucking scientists.”

He looked at the small pile of items that Brickman had pulled from the Colonel’s pockets. Buried underneath some small change and folded photograph was a laminated ID card. Jackson picked it up, not all that surprised that Hall had been in on it as well.

“Have you any idea what this is?” he said dropping the card into Brickman’s open palm.

Brickman shrugged, “I’m sorry, I’ve no idea.”

“I didn’t expect you to recognise it and I’m glad you didn’t.”

Brickman then noticed Jackson pointing Hall’s pistol at his gut.

“You see, if you had shown even a flicker of recognition, I would have had no choice but to kill you.”

“What are you talking about? For crying out loud, William, I’m your friend. Probably the only one you’ve got.”

“I’ve found out the truth, Brickman.” Said Jackson, nodding, “you see, our so called superiors plus a select group of high foreheads have played us all for fools. Keeping stuff hidden from us, thinking they knew better. Doing what they’ve always done.”

“You mean they know what this is?”

Jackson laughed. “They don’t have a fucking clue but they do know why it’s happened and who’s…”

He jerked his head to the side, Oh, bollocks! They were coming, from the sound of it; there were hundreds of them in here now.

Brickman had heard them too; he raised his gun and took aim. “We need to move, now!”

“Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet? Have you lost your marbles? Those fuckers are almost on top of us.”

Jackson lunged for the man and grabbed the back of Brickman’s collar. “We’re not going anywhere until we finish with Hall.”

He snatched the Colonel’s bayonet out of Brickman’s hand then pushed him towards the door. “Go on then, I dare you. Run for the chopper and see how far you get.”

He kneeled beside the corpse, then used the bayonet to cut down the front of Hall’s jacket.

Jackson heard him rushing forward but couldn’t move out of the way in time. Brickman put his hands around Jackson’s throat and dragged him back.

“I can’t let you do this, Jackson, this is defiling the dead.”

In panic, Jackson swung out with the knife; he heard a distant voice curse and the pressure around his neck lessened. He dropped the weapon, grabbed both of Brickman’s wrists and pulled them forwards. The big man flew over Jackson’s body and landed on Hall’s head. Jackson didn’t wait for the man to recover, he saw masses of the things piling into the room. Jackson picked up the knife, pushed the blade deep into the officer’s stomach and drew it down towards the groin.

He leapt up and ran to Brickman. “Watch, you fucking idiot.”

Two bright blue nightmares rushed ahead of the main pack and dived onto the man’s open stomach. They both locked their gaze upon the soldiers before simultaneously burying their armoured heads deep into the gash.

Jackson pulled the unresisting man to the side as the other Type Twos pounced on the corpse.

“I never knew that so many had got in?” whispered Jackson.

One of the creatures suddenly looked at Brickman. It jumped off the body and slowly crawled towards the two men.

“Jackson watched it get closer, not understanding why it seemed so fascinated with them. He glanced at Brickman, then saw the shallow cut in the man’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

Jackson slammed the blade into the animal’s back, pinning it to the floor. “Get that wound covered up, you idiot. Hall won’t keep their attention here for long.”

They both pushed their way through the mass, toward the open door. Jackson saw the steps and the way to freedom just a few metres from where they were.

“We’re nearly there.”

Both men froze when a single shot rang out.

“I thought we were the last ones,” whispered Brickman.

They cleared the swarming creatures and hurried over to the stairs. Another burst of gunfire reached Jackson’s ears. Brickman pointed to another group of Type Twos heading for them.

“It must be Hayder and Pembroke. Go to the roof, Brickman.”

The other man shook his head, “No way. I’m not leaving you here.”

“You’re a liability. Those things will smell your blood. You’ll slow me down.”

“Bullshit.” Brickman winked at him then raced toward the source of the gunfire.

Jackson sighed then set off in pursuit. He jumped over a yellow furry abomination and thanked the lord that the fuckers were still docile.

He’d made sure of that, not only with Hall’s sacrifice but ensuring he’d sated the other one, the huge monster. It would hopefully not call out to the Type Twos until they’d got out of here.

“Wait up, Brickman.”

Jackson ran past an open door; he’d already explored that room and found that unlocked computer terminal and the terrible secrets it contained.

“The stupid arrogant bastards,” he muttered.

He heard another burst of gunfire, louder this time. He hoped he was in time to save them. Jackson couldn’t afford to lose any more of his men.

How would Tyler have reacted if he knew that his death was partly just to test a theory?

Another creature stood motionless in the middle of the floor; as Jackson neared, he saw it was busy cleaning up a spot of fresh blood. He’d have to deal with Brickman’s arm when he caught him up.

There was no way that he could afford to lose his right hand man. “I shouldn’t have cut him.”

Jackson knew that he should have shared the new information as soon as he found out. Instead of just expecting him to blindly follow orders.

“That’s what the officers would have expected.”

As Jackson approached the next fire door, he heard the unmistakable sound of murmured conversation emanating from the next room. He grabbed Hall’s pistol, approached the door, and ran his thumb up and down the mottled grip.

He cautiously pushed open the door. “Don’t open fire,” he said, not wishing to become a casualty. His men were well trained; even so, he had no desire to find himself riddled with bullet holes.

Hayder and Brickman both nodded. He was more than relieved to find at least one more of his men still in one piece; but Pembroke, on the other hand.

“I’m ashamed to say that I thought you’d given up on us,” said Hayder. “This place is like a fucking maze.”

Jackson had given up hope but he had no intention of telling him that. “You know me better than that,” he muttered. Jackson’s eyes were locked on Pembroke and in particular, his arm held in a makeshift sling.

“What happened, son?”

Pembroke hung his head, “One of those little fuckers bit me”

Jackson saw Brickman stiffen, he hoped the other two didn’t notice that.

“I stamped on the bastard,” he laughed,” You should have heard it squeal. As for the arm, it’s only a scratch, nothing to worry about. It’s not like it hurts or anything.”

Jackson nodded and slowly reached for his knife. He promised himself that he’d make this quick and painless for the unfortunate lad.

Hayder abruptly backed away; Jackson saw panic appear in the man’s eyes. Did Hayder suspect what Jackson was going to do? Jackson suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of Hayder’s rifle.

“Jackson, behind you!”

Brickman’s shout unfroze his feet, he spun around and almost laughed out loud when he spotted a fluffy green Type Two crawling up the door.

“Put that fucking gun away,” he snapped, “That thing won’t harm you.” He then saw another blood splat by Brickman’s feet and sighed.

“For crying out loud, Brickman. Will you get that wound covered up? It’s your leak that attracting them.”

“I’m sorry, Sarge, but we were unable to find your woman. Believe me, we looked everywhere.”

Jackson looked to his left and grinned, he tapped an air vent with the tip of his knife, “You didn’t look in the right places. Don’t you let it worry you, I’m sure you did your best; besides, the bitch has been found and dealt with.”

Brickman took a pace back when Pembroke took a step towards Jackson. “When do we leave then?” asked Pembroke. “I’m anxious to taste that fresh Scottish air.”

Jackson nodded, “Soon,” he said, smiling.

“Before we do leave, I need to explain a couple of things. The situation has changed. Our starting afresh plan has gone out of the window. The days of enjoying life and shagging with have to wait for a little longer.”

He spun around and plunged the knife into the creature’s body, pinning it to the door. At the same time, Pembroke let out a tiny whimper. Hayder gave his colleague a curious look. Jackson wondered if the penny had finally dropped.

“The white coated bastards and the blokes in suits have been feeding us a pack of lies ever since The Wasting started. The creatures in this Institute and all the others we’ve seen will all be dead in a couple of weeks.”

Brickman shrugged. “That isn’t much of a revelation.”

“Does that mean we can go home once they are all gone?”

Jackson ignored Hayder’s question. “The white coated bastards were indirectly responsible for The Wasting.”

Brickman sighed, “I thought as much,” he muttered. “This is something that those dirty fucks cooked up in their labs, isn’t; it?”

Jackson shook his head, “Something this precise is way beyond our technical knowledge.”

He watched their faces, wondering if they would believe what he was about to say. Jackson had doubts; after all, he thought it was all bullshit when he found the files on that computer in the lab.

“A couple of years ago, an unidentified object passed close to our planet. The scientists assumed it with a small lump of rock, at least until it changed direction and began transmitting an electronic message. The scientists intercepted the signal but only informed a select group of people.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Hayder, “fucking aliens?”

Brickman punched him on the arm.

“The scientists established contact and told them everything about our planet and our species. The probe sent out one more message before disappearing telling them to prepare for first contact. This was six months ago and The Wasting started just a few days later. The scientists, what’s left of them, still have a communication network. A vast number of new objects have been detected near Jupiter.”

Jackson looked at Hayder, daring him to call his Sergeant a liar.

“We’ll need more ammo,” replied Hayder.

Brickman grinned, “We’re going to start kicking alien butt?”

“We’ll find a base of operations away from any towns and cities. Then we’ll recruit and tool up. They estimate that those objects will be here in about a month. That’s how long we have to prepare.”

He walked up to Pembroke. “Sorry, son.” Jackson pointed the pistol at his head.

“No!” shouted Hayder.

Brickman snatched Hayder’s gun and threw it to the floor, he then grabbed both the struggling man’s arms.

“You’re infected. You know that don’t you? I can’t allow you to change.”

“We can’t kill him, look let’s just leave him, we’ll be out of here soon.”

The Sergeant is right, Hayder. I know what’s happening to me inside. I don’t want to be a monster.” He closed his eyes and pressed his head hard against the muzzle of the gun. “Do it.”

“Wait, look he’s my friend, so if it’s to be done, let me do it.”

Jackson looked at Brickman and nodded. The big man let the man go. He handed the pistol to Hayder.

“I’m sorry, man.” Hayder pointed and fired a single shot into his friend.

Chapter Thirteen

The unsettling feeling of deja-vu washed over Patsy as Daniel gently lowered her down. She kept her eyes fixed on that open door; despite his assurances, Patsy still believed that the fluffy beast would change its mind and rush back in here. The soles of her feet touched the tiled floor. As the soldier released her arms, an involuntary gasp escaped from her lips. She couldn’t help it; that disquieting sensation of abandonment crept up and covered the woman like a rotten blanket.

“Hush up, lass. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Patsy gazed up towards the dislodged ceiling tile, wondering if her handsome knight had somehow just sensed her irrational thoughts.

“Move to one side, lass. Here, cop hold of this.” He dropped his assault rifle. Point the bloody thing at the door,” he snapped. “Not at me.”

Daniel dropped down and Patsy gratefully gave him back his gun.

“You know what? I reckon we ought to follow it.”

Patsy just looked at him, unsure that she had just heard those words correctly. “You’re having a laugh here, you must be.”

She remembered almost screaming in terror when they’d removed the tile and she saw that malevolent wrinkled face staring back at her just inches away. The tiny monster must have decided to take a nap on top of that metal filing cupboard. Lord knows what it must have thought when the whole polystyrene tile fell on it.

Patsy froze solid when that bastard nightmare pulled back its gums to reveal that set of serrated, black teeth. It soon moved when Daniel pointed his gun at it. Patsy guessed that it must have already learnt what guns could do.

They both watched it jump onto the floor and scurry out of the room.

“Daniel, have you lost your bloody mind?” She searched his face for evidence that this was a wind up, Patsy found none, he was quite serious. “But we’ve spent hours avoiding those things.”

He nodded, “I know we have but, let’s face it, we’re lost. This place must have been built by a lunatic with a hard on for Pacman.”

She stayed silent, unsure if he was having a dig at her. Patsy had told him a few times that she thought she knew where there were.

Patsy watched Daniel look around the grey walled room. Apart from the metal filing cabinet that stood against the far wall, the room was empty. She’d lost count of the amount of similar looking rooms they’d passed. Amber had told her on more than one occasion about just how large the Institute was and at the time, she’d dismissed her friend’s claims as mild exaggerations. Patsy had been here for months and thought she knew her way around pretty well. That bubble burst a long time ago.

“Sorry, Daniel, this place is a bit bigger than I thought.”

“It isn’t your fault. We’ve spent most of our time up in the ceilings; familiar surroundings look totally different when seen from below.”

He padded over to the door and peered out. “I reckon they’ll rely on more than their eyes to get around. I think that critter knows where it’s going.”

“Yeah, probably back to its few hundred mates.” She muttered.

Patsy wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck, “Are you sure that this is such a good idea?”

“Those creatures have had plenty of opportunity to attack us; we should have been consumed hours ago.”

“You make it sound as if they’re intelligent.”

Daniel wriggled out of her embrace and stepped out into the corridor, “They’re about as intelligent as they animals they originated from.” He sighed, “I saw a lot of unpleasant things down in London and a lot of it I couldn’t explain.”

He’d told her a lot about his life before The Wasting while they were travelling, yet hardly anything about his time in the capital. She’d asked him a few times but Daniel had always been quick to change the subject.

“Those creatures had behaved differently, organised.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “I can’t explain it. I don’t know; it’s as if they were being controlled or something.”

Patsy stepped out into the corridor, intending to give him another hug when she noticed a chunk of plaster missing from the wall next to her. The damage must have been done years ago as the previous decorators had painted over it. She grinned to herself; Patsy must have passed that bloody hole hundreds of times.

“Oh, lord. This is so unreal.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Daniel.

“I know where we are, I work here.” She shrugged. “Well, used to work here, anyway. That’s my lab. That horrible thing has just scampered into my lab.”

“You’ve only just noticed our location?”

“Everything looks the same, Amber once told me that she wanted to paint al the walls in bright colours. You know, to make the place look a little less than a prison.”

Patsy hoped that her friend was okay, they had yet to find anyone still alive. She wouldn’t know how she’d be able to live with herself if Amber was dead.

“Bright walls are all very well, but I’d prefer huge red arrows painted on the walls, pointing to the bloody exit.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go inside.”

To her initial relief, the lab looked deserted; perhaps the creature was using this room as a short cut to somewhere else. Oh God, Patsy hoped so. There were way too many nooks and crevices in the lab to start thinking about dozens of those things hiding and just waiting to pounce on them.

“You never told me what you did in here.”

She slowly turned around, looking in dismay at the changes wrought by the new scientists; she had difficulty recognising the place. “I was just an assistant researcher; we were doing what we suspected everyone with access to scientific equipment was doing, trying to find a cure.”

Patsy padded down a narrow aisle, gazing at the collection of glass jars at either side. These weren’t here before. She tapped on one of them, wondering what was inside.

“Graham was in charge of the operation, to be honest, I was just a glorified fetcher and carrier, I also made lots of cuppas. These weren’t here before you lot turned up. Have you any idea what’s inside them?”

Daniel slowly nodded, his ashen face suggested that she shouldn’t have asked him that question.

“I’ve tried not to tell you what our main jobs were back in London.” He picked up one of the small jars and dipped his forefinger into the opaque liquid. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you may think of me as some sort of monster. Our main duty was to protect the remaining scientific community and assist them in any way.” He smiled, “You could say that we were their fetchers and carriers but we stopped short of making the arrogant pricks cups of tea.”

Daniel placed the jar back; he paused and looked at her. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Patsy.” He held the jar out in front of him and poured out the liquid. Stuck at the bottom of the jar was what appeared to be a lump of coral. Patsy leaned closer and her stomach slowly turned over when she worked out just what it was.

“As the disease was affecting the older people, the scientists wanted human cadavers, preferably from before the outbreak.”

Patsy stared in revulsion at the severed hand. Thick patches of bright orange fur grew from the grey, mottled flesh.

“They had us raiding hospital morgues and pathology labs; thankfully most of the places still had working generators.” Daniel sighed, “You won’t believe the fun and games we had, dragging half a dozen frozen bodies through the streets of London.”

She inspected the hand, despite the decay and the damage caused by the foreign organisms, Patsy didn’t think that this had been removed from a corpse. She looked at Daniel, wondering if he was lying.

He placed the jar back and wiped his hands on his jacket. Patsy stared at the hand, in particular the tiny gold band around the index finger. That piece of jewellery looked very familiar. Then it clicked, Patsy suddenly went cold. Mark Erikson, the beefy hunk whom she’d dated a couple of weeks ago had a band just like that one. Could it be just a coincidence?

“Did they bring these samples up from London?”

He shrugged, “I know they brought a few but not many, we didn’t have space in the choppers.”

“Not this many you mean?”

Daniel gazed at her then groaned, “Oh, crap. I’m sorry, you need to believe me, Patsy, if they have continued their experiments up here, I knew nothing about it.”

She didn’t know what to believe, Graham had been using human subjects, only his were definitely dead. Two men died a few weeks ago when part of the ceiling collapsed on them while they were exploring one of the older sections. Patsy thought Graham was going to have an orgasm when the committee allowed the science team to use the bodies for research. Thinking of Graham’s experiments jogged a forgotten set of memories. He seemed to know just what the results would be. Was he guessing or did he know the answers beforehand? Also, she did notice a flicker of recognition when he met the head of the London science team, despite pretending that they didn’t know each other.

“I’m really sorry. Patsy. I should have told you about this earlier.”

She still couldn’t decide whether he had told her the whole truth or just part of it; then again, at this moment in time, it didn’t really matter. Patsy believed that Daniel was a good man. After all, he was technically a deserter. His comrades would probably shoot him if they captured the poor man.

“It’s okay, Daniel, it’s not like we’ve had much chance to sit down and have a cosy chat now, is it?”

He remembered the shock of him grabbing her arms and lifting her back into the cavity above the ceiling. If he hadn’t had a firm grip of her arms, the man would have received a face full of fingernails. Her fury evaporated when he urgently whispered that he was trying to save her. There was no time to tell him that her friend was down there as more soldiers were climbing into the cavity. They’d managed to escape but by the time they’d been able to get back onto the floor, Amber was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like we’re not the first ones to visit here,” he said. “Look at that.” Daniel said, pointing behind her.

She turned around and looked at the large rectangular hole in the ventilation pipe; there used to be a grille over that. It Looked like Daniel was right, someone had been here.

“It might be your friend, Amber. It makes sense that she probably would have travelled above ground; after all, we did.”

“If it was her, how do you know she dropped in? Maybe Amber used the shaft to escape from the lab.”

Daniel shook his head, “No, definitely used the shaft to come here. She’d need something to climb on, a chair or table or something. They’d still be here if she was running away.”

She padded over and looked up into the dark space, trying to imagine her friend squeezing her body through that shaft, alone. Patsy felt tears springing up, she just couldn’t do it, for Christ’s sake, Amber was claustrophobic, there was no way she’d crawl through that, Amber would rather die.

“Oh God!”

Sobs wracked through her when Patsy realised what she’d just said. Daniel hurried over and threw his arms around her shoulder.

“Come on, Patsy. This is the only sign we’ve come across that there’s more than us who’s still alive in this godforsaken building. There’s more than a good chance that it’ll be your friend.”

Patsy pulled her eyes away; he was probably right. She abruptly gasped aloud when she spotted a flash of yellow at the back of the laboratory. Daniel pulled her away and raised his gun.

“Get behind me,” he whispered. “I still reckon it’ll ignore us.

They both froze when they saw that it wasn’t alone; dozens of the nightmarish constructs slithered, crawled and skittered over each other and moved closer to where they stood. She turned and clamped a hand over her mouth. There were a few dozen more coming through the open door.

“What are we going to do?”

Daniel grabbed her side and pushed her until she was under the hole. “Hold up your arms, Patsy.”

He lifted her up, Patsy managed to grab the metal sides and with a little more help, Patsy scrambled into the shaft. She looked behind her and screamed. There were more of the bastards in here too. She panicked and threw herself out.

“Oh, hell, we’re dead.” She hugged Daniel tight, “I wish I could have got to know you better.”

She whimpered as a low rumbling sound penetrated her bones.

“Please, not one of those things as well.” Daniel kissed her. “I wish I could have got to know you too.”

They watched the smaller creatures part as the huge creature slid along the floor.

“It must have been over there all along, motionless, just waiting for us to drop in here.”

As it approached, its long neck weaved from side to side, like a hypnotised snake. Patsy couldn’t tear her eyes off the grotesque human-like head. She heard Daniel cock the weapon.

“At least we can take out one of those fuckers before we die.”

She closed her eyes, hoping this bad dream would soon finish.

“No!”

Patsy’s eyes snapped open; she turned her head, not believing what she was seeing. Her friend, Amber, was running through the horde of monsters toward them. She paused beside the huge creature and pressed her hands against the side of its brown body.

“What the fuck?” uttered Daniel.

“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” She brushed her fingers through patches of downy pale fur sprouting along its flank. “You need to lower that gun though, soldier boy.”

Daniel looked at Patsy who nodded back.

Patsy grinned then ran over to Amber and fell into her arms.

“Oh, Jesus, am I glad to see you.” Amber held her tight, “I thought you were dead.”

Patsy brushed Amber’s hair away from her face and wiped away her friend’s tears. “I thought the same.” She looked over Amber’s shoulder, “are you sure it won’t hurt us?”

“He’s my friend.” Amber nodded to Daniel, “I’m glad to see at least one of you bastards still has a conscience. You are unbelievable, Patsy. Only you could score at a time like this.”

“So what are we supposed to do now?” asked Daniel.

“He agreed to help me get out of here and protect me from others like him.”

“You mean you can talk to that thing?”

Amber nodded. “Please don’t call it a thing, he still has feelings. Unlike the others out there, the alien filth hasn’t robbed him of all of his humanity. I thought that it was going to eat me. Thankfully, he remembered that I tried to help him.”

Patsy held up her hand, “Wait a minute, did you say alien? Like in outer space and stuff?”

“Yes, alien. This is just the beginning, Patsy. My new friend has told me a shit load of stuff and…”

The thing behind her abruptly started to screech. Moments later, the sound of gunfire erupted from the corridor outside. Amber fell back, shut her eyes and rocked back and forth.

Her eyes then snapped open; she stared at the soldier, “Are you prepared to use that gun?”

“Of course I am,” he said.

Patsy could hear the panic in his voice.

Amber sighed, “Are you sure? That’s your colleagues out there.”

A swarm of small creatures flowed past Amber and surrounded Daniel.

“My new friend thinks you are lying. He thinks you will betray us, betray him.”

Chapter Fourteen

Miles pressed his back against the bricks as the huge creature slithered past; he choked back a scream when its cold flank brushed along the back of his hand.

“Look, Man. You really are gonna have to lose those bad vibes. Just open up a box at the back of your brain, throw ‘em in and like close the lid, man.”

Dustin climbed off the beast’s neck, giggling when one of its protruding spines wound up the inside of his thigh.

“Later!” he hissed. “Come on, lass, this isn’t the time.”

Miles didn’t even want to contemplate what that weird guy had been doing to that great big heap of pulsating flesh. Just the thought of those two interfering with each other made him feel queasy.

Dustin approached him. “We’re nearly there, man.” He turned and stared at the bright, white light emanating from the end of this tunnel. “They must have used this line to ferry all their gear under the city. I bet this has been here for decades, man.”

Miles nodded and looked down at the railway track between his feet. A single creature, peeled away from a nearby cluster and weaved through his legs, “What the fuck is it doing? Are you sure your new er friends won’t mistake me for food or something?” he whispered.

“Well, man. If they do, there’s fuck all we’ll be able to do about it. Take a closer look at it, man. Can you not see the kitty likeness underneath those blue scales?”

Miles nodded, and then it clicked. “My mum had a cat that did this when it wanted feeding.”

“It’s a past memory, man.”

Dustin leaned over. Miles caught his breath, the man smelt just like the big creature now, of a wet woodland floor mixed with ammonia. How the fuck was Dustin able to control it? He sighed and wondered if the man had been contaminated. Maybe it was the other way around, what if the creature was controlling Dustin.

“As I said, man, just lighten up a bit. You’re making them all jittery. Look, if my gal had wanted you gone, she’d have done so by now.” Dustin grinned. “Come on over, make friends with her, she’s still not sure that she can trust you.”

Miles barked out a panicked laugh, “It wants to know if it can trust me? Oh, Christ.”

He allowed the man to pull him towards the huge creature. It dropped its head until its face was level with his. It blinked. Miles felt a shiver shudder through his body. He felt several tendrils tear through his clothing. He moaned and attempted to jump back.

“Don’t!” warned, the man. “Let her finish this. If you don’t, you’ll not see another dawn.”

Miles shivered again as its probing scratched his skin. The eyes in that monstrous head were intelligent, it/she held his gaze. He felt the creature probe past his own eyes and delve deep into his brain, searching for any mark of duplicity. She blinked once more before lifting her head.

Dustin laughed, “Oh, man. How cool was that? She likes you.”

Miles sank to the floor, unsure of what had just happened. He felt as though she’d just peeled away his inner most thoughts, layer by layer like an onion. Miles reached out and placed the palm of his hand upon her ridged side.

Dustin helped him up, “Her name used to be Justine. She had two kids, both boys.” She told me that The Wasting had taken away everybody she knew, the only people it hadn’t harmed were her kids.”

The creature rested her head on Dustin’s shoulder; Miles saw tears drip down her grey cheeks.

“They’d been sheltering in their local off licence. At the time it seemed like the best place to be, the place was fully stocked with everything they needed and the shop’s shutters were down and locked, nobody could harm them. There were five of them in there, her family plus two other women. Their life wasn’t brilliant but it was bearable; the magazines and newspapers kept the boredom at bay, the only downside was having to use slop buckets.”

Dustin stroked her cheeks.

“It had been Justine’s turn to empty the buckets when it happened. They’d been pouring the stuff into an open drain, in the cellar. As Justine pushed open the door, a small yellow creature rushed out and sunk its teeth into her ankle. The other rushed to her aid, but of course; instead of ending it all there and then, they tried to nurse Justine back to health.”

Dustin sighed, “She turned within a couple of hours. The others didn’t stand a chance.”

Miles closed his eyes, remembering Edgar’s change; those other two monsters had arrived on the scene not long after. Somehow, Miles doubted that putting Justine out of her misery would have been the end of it.

“It wasn’t your fault. You…”

He screamed as a dozen of the creatures jumped towards him, Miles fell back, waiting for one of them to deliver the killing blow, but they just ran over his quaking body as if he wasn’t even there. “What the fuck is going on?” he gasped.

Dustin shook his head. They both watched others following the departing creatures down the tunnel towards the light.

“Does she not know?”

Dustin shrugged. “If she does, she ain’t telling.”

The huge creature’s serpentine head propelled into Dustin’s stomach, he cried out and fell to the floor. She then gazed at Miles, baring her teeth before shuffling at high speed towards the other creatures.

“Don’t leave us,” cried Dustin. “I need you.”

“What’s going on?”

“She wants us to turn back, she fears for our lives.”

Miles picked the man up, “I thought you said she’d protect us.”

Dustin shook his head. “She’s lost control of her brood; they’ve smelt the stench of carrion, lots of it.”

“Bugger staying here.” He muttered.

Miles shook off the other man’s grip and followed the huge creature towards the light. “Are you coming or what?” asked Miles, looking back. “Or are you going to just stand there like a hen-pecked husband, doing as you’re told.”

Miles picked up his feet and raced along the tracks, not caring whether the other one followed him. The Institute and his Amber were within his grasp and nothing was going to stop him from finding her. He watched the smaller creatures reach the gate; it reminded him of an ancient portcullis. As Miles neared, he saw that the metal was scarred and pitted, even so, there was no way that the creatures could get inside, the holes were too small.

Dustin caught up with him and put a restraining hand on his shoulder, “Wait on, man. Can’t you sense their anger and frustration?”

Miles shrugged the hand off.

“Stay here! At least for a moment. Those animals will tear you into bloodied rags.” Dustin grabbed the back of his shirt, “Watch her! She ain’t slowing down,”

The little ones scattered in all directions as she surged toward the barrier. The creature pulled back her neck before slamming her body into the gate. The metal snapped and twisted apart. The other creatures swarmed over her, in the eagerness to get into the Institute. A couple of them even bit into her when they couldn’t clamber past. She responded by tearing the impatient creatures off her body and ripping them in two with her tendrils.

“She’s lost control of them.”

“No shit,” muttered Miles.

The creature waited for the others to disappear from sight before moving its bulk through the shattered gate. Once she cleared the debris, she stopped and looked back at Dustin. It uttered a single soft cry. To Miles’s ear, the noise sounded like a baby laughing, he shivered.

“Come on, it wants us to follow her, she says the others are now feeding, we’ll be safe as long as we stay close to her body.”

Dustin ran up to her and used his hands to caress the bite marks on her body. Miles followed, a little more cautious. Watching those creatures turn on their mistress put a restraining collar on his eagerness. He was also a little reluctant to believe that a single cry from her could mean so much; could Dustin be making it up?

He ducked under the ruined metal and looked around, this was definitely part of the Institute. Miles recognised the familiar signage but he didn’t have a clue where in the building they were. Not that knowing the location made much difference. Miles didn’t have a clue where Amber was anyway.

“Do you know where they’ve gone?”

Dustin took a deep breath and coughed. “I’ve a good idea. Can you not smell it?” he pointed at the creature, she was shivering, “Sorry, no, you won’t, not yet anyway. I’m getting the odour from her.”

The creature rushed through a double set of fire doors at the other side of the room, knocking them both out of the doorframes. When she moved her bulk, Miles then saw them. He slowly walked forward and the stench of death hit him full in the face. “Oh, Jesus.” He muttered, “What have those butchers done to them?”

Dustin joined him, “I’m so sorry, man. Look, please wait on; don’t go in there just yet. I know what those creatures are doing is like defilement or something, but it’s not like those dead folks are going to feel it.”

Miles felt his hand form into a tight fist. These were his friends, how dare he talk about them like that. Dustin must have seen his face harden as he let go and backed away.

“I didn’t mean any offence, man.”

They both instinctively fell to the floor as deafening gunfire filled the room.

Chapter Fifteen

Amber heard the multitude of voices, beseeching their master to unleash them. Daniel cried out as one of the creatures edged closer. It growled and dug its claws into the wooden floor, leaving five deep scars as it pulled them out. It, like the others, craved the soldier’s meat.

His will began to waver; something was wrong, he was losing control of his tribe. Amber gasped as all the others suddenly brushed past her and out into the corridor. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief as the ones around him went with them.

Amber heard his messages, his demands, threats, and finally his begging. Nothing worked; the creatures were now following their own agenda.

Her new friend pushed past her and the other two and followed the creatures out of the laboratory.

“I think we’d better go too.” She murmured.

They raced after the huge creature. Amber never realised that they could move so fast. She heard another burst of gunfire.

“I won’t let the other men take you,” said Daniel.

Up in front, she saw the creature had stopped, there was no sign of its followers.

“What’s going on?”

Amber shrugged; her new friend had fallen silent, he wasn’t responding to her questions. One thing was clear though, he didn’t want them to come any closer.

They slowed down, Amber watched in disbelief as his body compressed like a wet sponge. Thick, milky glutinous fluid seeped out from under his base. He twisted his neck and bared his teeth at Daniel. Amber grabbed his arm. “You really do need to stay here.”

The creature had shed most of its bulk. It squeezed through the open doorway into the next room.

Daniel shook off her hand, “I’m sorry, Amber but I’m not going to let a giant slug tell me what to do.”

He ran towards the door.

“Wait!” Patsy spun around and grabbed her friend’s arms. “We can’t let him go, Amber.”

She sighed and, against her better judgment, she followed the soldier. He stopped just by the doorframe. He heard them approach and held out his arm, “You really don’t want to see this.”

The two women pushed past him and gazed in horror at the scene in front of them. It looked like a living carpet of primary colours. Then she noticed lumps of bright crimson matter beneath the seething mass. Amber slapped a hand against her mouth. Those things were sliding over the remains of the rest of the Institute personal.

“What the fuck has been going on?” She watched her friend gaze up, towards the walls. “Oh my God, those evil bastards.”

Amber followed her gaze and felt hot bile rise up her throat when she saw the dozens of small holes gauged out of the plaster. Amber knew bullet holes when she saw them.

“They’ve executed them,” cried Patsy. She bared her teeth at Daniel, “tell me you knew nothing about this.”

“Of course I didn’t.” He replied, stammering.

Amber looked down at the things on the floor, wondering why the approaching invaders would bother to go to such elaborate length to wipe everyone out. All they needed to do was sit up there in there spaceships and just let us do it for them.

She backed away a couple of steps and then turned away, unable to watch any longer. It was time to go, to get the hell out of here.

“That’s Miles!” shouted Patsy.

Amber looked back, “Where, I can’t see him.” She saw the creatures fighting amongst themselves then she saw another creature just like her new friend, in front of a set of double doors on the other side of the room. Amber then noticed a couple of men crouching on top of a metal desk. The other creature was clawing toward those two men.

“That’s Jackson,” muttered Daniel.

Amber’s new friend lunged forward, sliding over the smaller creatures. It growled then his head darted forward like a striking cobra and sunk his teeth into the other creature’s neck.

Then her eyes found Miles; he stood behind the other creature wrestling with a tall man with long black hair. The other man managed to escape Miles’s grip; he pushed Miles back then ran into the room.

Both the creatures turned at this intrusion. Amber watched the two soldiers look at each other then they stood up and fired a volley of shots into the mass of creatures below them.

Amber’s new friend screamed when a couple of stray shells created scarlet geysers on his flank. He responded by reaching down and grabbing the scruffy man’s arm. He lifted the shrieking man up and threw him into the wall.

Daniel raised his gun at the approaching man and fired, the soldier’s bullets creating a bloody path through the creatures.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Patsy, “but I just can’t murder them.”

The other creature had retreated and now headed towards the broken body of the scruffy man, it sounded like it was crying.

Jackson abruptly stopped; he grinned at Amber then fired into her new friend.

“No!” she shouted.

Amber saw it collapse and sprinted up to it, Jackson and the other soldier ran past up to her.

“You’re supposed to be dead, bitch.” He bared his teeth, “well you will be soon.”

The other soldier pushed him back, “Leave it, Jackson, Do you want to die here? There’s a gun trained on us.”

“Get the fuck away from here!”

That voice belonged to Daniel.

Amber turned and watched the men flee; Daniel and Patsy moved back and allowed them to leave. When she turned around, she saw that the other creature and gone through the other doors, the smaller creatures were following it.

“I never thought I was going to see you again!”

Amber gasped as Miles ran to her and grabbed her hand, “Come on, we need to get out of here before they come back.”

Amber threw her arms around his neck, “Oh my God, you came back for me.”

He nodded, “Of course I did.”

Through tear-blurred eyes, she saw Daniel and Patsy approach them.

“We need to rescue the other girls,” said Amber.

“We can’t,” replied Daniel, “They have a helicopter gunship, if we try anything, they’ll blow us away.”

Patsy stroked Amber’s hair, “We’ll see them again, I doubt they’ll harm them.”

Miles looked into Amber’s eyes, “We need to find somewhere very safe. This is just the start of it.”

Amber nodded, turned, and watched the last of the creatures go through the doorway, leaving the four of them standing in the middle of a human abattoir.

Rags and Bones

Chapter One

Jacob Baxter brought his grime-encrusted hand up to his face, gazing at the accumulation of detritus that had built up over the last few weeks. He blinked. Had it really been weeks since he had last bathed? The passing of time built up faster than the shit that stuck to his frail frame. Jacob so desired to immerse his foul body in hot, sweet smelling water.

He looked up into the cloudy night sky and breathed in the cold air. He detected petrol fumes, grease from the multitude of takeaways infesting the town, the hint of cheap perfume and of course, the sour stench of alcohol. Yet, beneath this concoction of human squander, he also smelled apple blossom, cut grass and the sweet scent of spring flowers.

It was the latter that he needed to embrace but Jacob dare not allow his inner urge to triumph. His masquerade had to continue, he was the last guardian left. To protect them required Jacob to play the role of the unseen scavenger; his desire didn’t even come into the equation.

The landscape of the town’s closed takeaways blurred as Jacob focused both eyes on the back of his hand. He swallowed the built up saliva, feeling the coldness slip sown his throat as he watched the tips of his fingers start to vibrate. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, recognising the onset of another vision. “Not another one.” This was going to hurt, they always did.

He thrust both his hands down to his side and clenched his fingers tight around the filthy fabric, almost losing his grip on the layer of grease coating his trousers. His actions did not suppress the shakes now surging through his legs. That familiar shiver rushed through every cell of his body, rising until it reached his head. Jacob heard himself moan in anguish before feeling the strength drain from his legs.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Jacob collapsed into the middle of the road, the brief downpour from the evening had drained away, and only a few puddles remained. Jacob had fallen into the largest one, the displaced water soaked into his clothing.

Jacob’s body was close to shutting down, the control he had over his functions were switching off one by one. One tiny spark of rationality buried under the layers of alien thoughts and emotions, calmly informed him that he was lying in the middle of the road. Jacob channelled what little strength he had left and crawled to the kerb, then rolled his body onto the pavement.

He shuddered one last time; the few remaining lights flickered, dimmed and went out.

It left him helpless, unable to move or talk. He would stay like this until the Powers had finished with him. Jacob prayed that it wouldn’t take long. The human nightlife tended to ignore him; even so, there were plenty of drunken locals who’d take great pleasure in massaging his body with their expensive shoes.

Jacob found himself sitting in the passenger seat of a large car. It took a few seconds to place the vehicle; it was a red Range Rover, an older model. He looked out of the window, watching the houses fly past. He knew where they were; this was Canal Road, about a mile from where Jacob lay. The car sped through the quiet area of the town, then slowed down and turned into Basing Street. Jacob looked through the windscreen and saw his own body lying in the middle of the road. He looked like a heap of discarded clothing, thrown out and forgotten. Jacob shook his head. No, that wasn’t how it should happen, he had moved out of the road. He managed to tear his eyes away from his form and for the first time, looked at the driver, recognising him immediately.

Paul Harrison lived on the other side of the town with his wife. Jacob had seen them a few times, drifting through the shopping centre. His wife had even dropped twenty pence into his battered baked bean tin a few weeks ago and rewarded him with a pitying sad smile. Jacob had returned her smile then watched the big man turn to lust at a pretty pair of legs. While the flesh distracted him, Jacob had scanned the surface of his mind and pulled out a whole chunk of interesting facts about the both of them.

Just like the rest of the locals, the pair followed the template; then again, they had no choice. Their fate was fixed from the moment of conception. They belonged to the town, part of the tapestry that bound all the locals together.

Their outward appearances were just a thin veneer, covering up tainted personalities. Even the woman, despite the rare act of compassion, was capable of a whole host of actions deemed heinous to normal society. The man, though. Oh, he was a special case. Jacob had inadvertently discovered one of the inner core, one of the few that took their depravity to a whole new level. He decided that this man would need watching.

The man’s expression suddenly changed to exultation. Paul had just seen Jacob’s body in the middle of the road. The man floored the accelerator and giggled. The noise was so unexpected, he sounded like a child. Jacob gritted his teeth and moaned when he felt the powerful vehicle plough into his frail body, watching his shattered form smash into a post box and splash the metal with an even brighter shade of scarlet.

The man howled in triumph then jerked the gears and reversed the Land Rover, still giggling. Jacob tried not to cry at the sight of his own body sliding down the front of the post-box before landing in a bloodied heap on the side of the road. This fiend had wrecked his body. He glared at the man sitting beside him, and saw that he had not finished just yet. The man spun the vehicle around and backed towards Jacob’s body until the rear wheel was in line with his head. The vehicle then inched further back, Jacob screamed, watching his head burst apart like an overripe tomato. His eyes shot open and he slowly sat up, finding himself back in his undamaged body, by the kerb. He turned around to see that he was just a few metres from the post-box. Jacob felt his stomach turn over and he threw up his last meal of half a cold pepperoni pizza that he had dug out of a litterbin about an hour ago. Jacob crawled over to the box and used it to get back onto his feet. “I can’t take this anymore.”

His strength had left him, Jacob knew that if he released his hands from the cold metal, he would crash into the hard paving slabs and end up breaking a few bones or pulling a couple of muscles. He turned his head and saw an alternative. Jacob staggered forward and threw himself into a soft pile of black bin bags, sighing with gratitude that not everyone who lived in this town were born here. A local would never leave bags full of old clothing outside a charity shop.

The man allowed the softness of the fabric under the black plastic to caress his weak muscles, while wondering if his ability to foretell a vision was weakening. He had long since given up trying to evade the visions but he had experienced enough of the bloody things to see the signs.

He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids when the low rumble of what sounded like a tank hurt his ears. Jacob lifted his head up a few inches, wincing at the bolt of pain that shot through his neck. A white Range Rover turned into the street and thundered along the road, shooting past the shop doorway.

‘Oh, so I got the colour wrong.’ Jacob had no doubt that everything else he saw would have transpired if he hadn’t moved out of the road. It didn’t make sense to him. Why would they show him an event that wouldn’t have even happened if they hadn’t subjected him to the agony of foresight? The maniac in the 4X4 wasn’t unique in this town; a few of them would have driven their wheels over his body. “Fuck, why do I still question their motives?”

Jacob eased the rest of his body off the bags and waited for his delicate stomach to catch up. He knew that despite their questionable motives, the Powers would have had good reason to subject him to the picture of watching his body flatten out. “Let me see if I can ascertain the reason,” he muttered. Jacob glanced along both sides of the street to ensure that he was still alone. He filled his lungs with the cold air, closed his eyes and willed his Ka to leave this shell.

He saw Paul Harrison gripping the steering wheel and thunder through the deserted streets like the devil possessed. He would reach the town limits within minutes at this speed. The maniac must be pushing the car way past seventy miles per hour. Jacob pushed his Ka through the rear window, floated past the rear seats and settled down next to the driver.

The comparison between this man and the one Jacob last saw, scowling at his wife for giving him money, was startling. The demonic mask of suppressed fury frightened even Jacob. Just what had happened? The man’s mouth opened and shut like a fish gulping in food. His mutters couldn’t be heard over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers. The noise was loud enough to rattle the windows.

His erratic driving could easily end an innocent’s life. From what he discovered from his vision, this man would cherish the prospect of wiping out a pedestrian. Jacob then noticed the dried blood splashed across his other cheek and guessed that he had already taken more than one life. There was even a chance that they were innocents. Jacob knew of a few remaining in town who hadn’t taken the hint to leave.

Jacob decided that it was time to find out just what was going on. He would not find answers by just observing. The man’s innermost thoughts held the answers he desired to know. Jacob’s Ka slowly floated up until he was level with Paul’s contorted face and then dived in.

That stupid, fucking, little bitch just had to go look. Why the fuck couldn’t the dumb slag not keep her big nose out of his stuff? Just how many times did he have to tell the wife not to go down there, that this workshop was off-limits to her? If wasn’t really his fault though, he wasn’t going to take the hit on this one. Fuck, how could he have known that she would pick the lock?

Curiosity killed the cat. It also killed the bitch of a wife too. Oh, he’d sorted her out all right, he’d shown Caroline just what happened to nosy parkers. Oh, yeah, remembering the hot thrill that coursed through his body as he wrapped his hands around the woman’s neck and squeezed made him grin. Watching her legs jerk spasmodically, kicking the walls and table, was just sublime.

The raw emotion so surprised him. He had honestly believed that he had squashed the urge to kill again years ago. It looked like he was wrong. That feeling never went away. Well the desire was certainly back, that was no denying it. It demanded satisfaction. This time he wasn’t going to make the mistake of hunting in his own town. He couldn’t wait to get his blades wet again.

Jacob whipped his Ka out of Paul’s mind and floated in front of his face. The man was still muttering. He floated closer until he was directly in front of the man’s moving lips. Paul was only repeating four words: Jennifer, Carol, Linda and Susan. Jacob pulled back and glanced over his shoulder, spying a leather satchel lying on the back seat, the flap was open to reveal four long bladed knives. Was this creature talking about his knives? Oh dear God, Jacob did not intend to go back inside to find out.

The town limits were not too far away now. If he didn’t stop this right now, the man would get away. Jacob had no influence beyond the border.

He hated this part of his role as guardian. He had been tasked with keeping the local population alive. Paul Harrison’s death would create a sudden void. The town would not notice his demise and nobody would miss or mourn his disappearance. That didn’t matter. The delicate balance would shift and beyond the boundaries of this blight on the landscape, there would be a mass killing. Another unexplained tragedy claiming innocent lives.

Jacob would grieve for their loss. He had no choice though. To allow just one of these monsters to remain alive away from the town could unravel everything. The town would allow a minor player to ascend and to fill the void. It wouldn’t take long; there were plenty of willing participants.

Paul growled and pressed the pedal down to the floor. Jacob felt the Range Rover judder as it picked up more speed. If he didn’t act right now, it would be too late. He muttered an incantation and his Ka solidified.

The man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets. He let out a single shocked yell and thrust both his arms forward. Paul shrieked even louder when his fingers encountered no resistance, pushed all the way through the apparition, and slammed into the vehicle’s windscreen.

Jacob’s Ka sensed the approach of something significantly larger than Paul’s Range Rover. He twisted around and nodded in satisfaction. This would be perfect. He looked back into the man’s terrified eyes one last time before rushing through the metalwork, listening to Paul shouting out for his mother. The car ploughed into the corner of a stone viaduct at over seventy miles per hour.

From where it floated, his Ka watched the man’s own Ka separate from his smashed up body. The spirit saw him and rushed towards his Ka, screaming incoherent obscenities. Before Paul’s Ka could reach him, unseen forces grabbed the spirit and pulled it towards the ground. Jacob’s Ka watched with a little regret as it vanished beneath the soil.

Unlike his victims, Paul would have felt no pain before he died. Jacob understood why Paul acted like he did and knew that he could have never behaved in any other way. He and the rest of them in this cursed town could not deviate from their set path. Even so, he did not wish the spirit luck on its journey to the next realm.

‘The lid on Pandora’s box shall remain closed,’ he growled. Jacob believed the analogy was apt, considering just how true that comparison was. He had kept up to date with events beyond the border. Many people believed that the world teetered on the edge of collapse, that man’s evil would consume everything. That would never happen, not while his town kept the equilibrium secure.

Over the sounds of the burning Ranger Rover, his Ka heard another vehicle approach. He moved off the road and floated just above the pavement. There was no reason for him to move away, this time. It’s not like this car would be able to hurt him. He shook his incorporeal head in bemusement.

The car slowed then stopped in the middle of the road, a few feet from the burning wreck. It didn’t surprise him to see that it was one of the town’s police cars. They were the only vehicles that patrolled the outskirts. Like Jacob, they didn’t want any of the town’s locals to spread their foulness past the boundary. Unlike Jacob, they were driven by self-interest; they had no wish for the outside world to discover their town’s secrets. Most of the officers serving were local as well. Like Paul, they too were gripped by dark urges.

Jacob watched the driver study the flaming car for a few seconds before climbing out of the police car. He spoke into his radio then slowly walked around the bent and twisted remains of the car. Jacob should have returned to his body by now as his role in this drama was at an end.

His Ka would not obey his request; it stayed where it was, rooted to the spot, while the officer continued to watch the vehicle burn. Something caught the officer’s attention. Jacob watched him hurry over to the other side of the road and stoop to pick something up. His Ka suddenly began to move of its own volition and he floated closed to the man.

The officer had found Paul’s leather satchel. How it had managed to survive intact was a mystery to Jacob, unless the impact had thrown it clear. He examined the contents and cursed before running back to his patrol car. Jacob watched him throw the satchel onto the back seat.

If the course of events ran to plan, the officer would not hand those knives over. They’d probably end up for sale in one of the town’s many junk shops by the end of the week. The officer would get a decent price for that set of knives as well. The man who had ended his life splattered over those stones wasn’t the only one in town who had an alternative use for a set of good quality kitchen knives.

The officer climbed back into the car and slowly turned the vehicle around, before heading back towards the town. He found that his Ka no longer felt like a fly trapped in amber. He did not understand why the powers compelled him to witness the rescue of those knives. It did scare him. In all the centuries of guarding the town, the powers had never intervened before, at least, not with him.

This was the end of his role; Jacob had stopped the man from leaving town. He just wished that he could have completed the task without killing Paul. He watched the flames dying down. Within the next few hours, the town’s authorities would collect the car and take it to the local scrap yard to crush, probably with the man still inside. A clean-up crew would remove the debris and that officer would report a minor traffic accident. It was how these incidents worked in their town.

Jacob sighed with relief as the pull from his physical body anchored the Ka and pulled it across the dark landscape towards where he lay. As he forced open his sleep encrusted eyes, the dull reality of his location hit him with the subtly of a rough stone. The acrid stink around his body caused him to gag, and it didn’t take him long to realise that he was breathing in the fumes of his own foul body odour, combined with the stench coming from the filthy rags he wore.

He coughed and attempted to breathe using only his mouth. It had been well over a week since he had last bathed, that had been in the cold steam that ran through the middle of the local woodland. Jacob needed another dunk; he should also grab some more clothes as well.

The detachment of Ka from his body, amplified all of his senses upon his immediate return, especially his sense of smell. It had been many years since he had returned to his body to find it clean and lying in a warm bed, complete with freshly laundered cotton sheets.

He groaned with pleasure at the memory. Jacob didn’t have to go to such extravagance. A meadow surrounded by spring flowers would have been far better than this. Even with breathing through his mouth, he could still smell the musty clothes in the bags under him and the reek of stale dog piss next to the corner of the shop door, even the exhaust fumes made him feel queasy. The rank smell, coming from his own cooling vomit pushed aside what little resistance left and Jacob’s stomach once more rebelled and ejected what little food he’d managed to hold on to.

Jacob slammed his jaw shut, narrowly avoiding cutting his tongue in half, when he started to experience the aches and pains that he could usually shut off. He wanted to die. No, he just wanted to flee this tortured suit of meat that encased his Ka and just leave this place, never to return.

Instead, Jacob crawled onto the bin bags, shut his eyes and started to count down from a hundred. The bout of self-pity, just like the enhanced senses, would eventually subside.

He decided there and then that he would spend the next couple of nights luxuriating in a hotel bed. He needed to recharge his batteries, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Jacob had just stopped a runner; he doubted that there’d be another one for at least a couple of weeks.

Two rats were creeping along the gutter, they had smelled his partially digested pizza spattered on the paving slabs and were eager to investigate. He smiled and willed them closer. Jacob promised not to disturb them, glad that at least one creature of the night would benefit from the meal.

Chapter Two

Dave Longbanks wrapped his fingers around the chrome pole attached to the edge of the oak-finished bar and brushed his other hand through his shock of blond hair. He waited for the dizziness to recede then gazed across the crowded dance floor. Dave’s eyes settled on some jailbait girl who looked like she’d poured her well-endowed body into that bright-blue outfit.

By the looks of the way she was acting, the tart had already found a bloke to keep her body warm tonight. Not that Dave was all that troubled, his bed would not be cold tonight either. He groaned silently when the dizziness tried to knock him off the barstool. This was just unreal; he’d only had five pints so far.

He gazed over at his mate, Phil Banks, and stifled a giggle. The big oaf was currently admiring himself in the huge mirror behind the bar. It hadn’t escaped Dave’s attention that Phil had already drained his pint and got himself a shot while Dave hadn’t been looking. Not that, Dave would dare say anything to Phil. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. After a few pints, his mate had everything down to just three basic actions of food and fight, then a good fuck.

Dave did not intend to experience his mate’s large fists working over his face. Phil drained his shot glass, and then he looked across towards the ladies toilet. Dave followed the man’s gaze, suppressing a grin. Their pick-ups had both retreated to the toilets a few minutes ago. Dave took a sip of his pint, wondering why the females always felt the need to accompany each other to the toilets.

“Hey, Phil, What is it with girls always going to the toilet together?” He tapped the lad on the shoulder. “Hey, are you in there?” His friend hadn’t even noticed Dave trying to grab his attention. Dave then saw where Phil’s eyes had landed. The big guy had spotted the young girl in the blue dress.

She’d decided to gyrate that firm body on the sparse dance floor. Dave punched Phil hard on the shoulder.

Phil spun around, rubbing his arm. “Are you wanting me to push your teeth through your throat?” He reached over, stole Dave’s pint, and drained it in one gulp. “You owe me a drink.”

“Will you shut the fuck up, buddy?” He grabbed the glass and banged it on the bar. “Stop drooling over Julie the schoolie over there. We’ve already got us some flesh remember.”

The barman silently picked up the glasses. Dave watched the man expertly filling the glasses while Phil’s eyes had been drawn back to the young girl on the dance floor. The silly cow really was trying hard to look sexy and all demure. Dave stifled a giggle when she slipped and fell on her arse. He wondered if Phil did remember that they’d already scored. They had agreed on the five-pint limit months ago. Anymore than that and either one of them would start throwing up. It was usually him. He paused before admitting to himself that it was nearly always him: in fact, Phil never threw up. The lad just got real mean if he drunk more than the agreed limit, well, meaner than he normally was.

Dave watched the crowd swallow the embarrassed girl then turned to find Phil staring at him. Judging by the state of his mate’s red-raw eyes, he concluded that the sly bastard had probably necked a bottle of JD before they hit the town. He wanted to kick himself for not spotting this earlier. He’d been too hyped up to notice. The prospect of finding a pretty girl had blinded Dave to his mate’s condition. He inwardly sighed, knowing that a bout of violence would now play an inevitable part in tonight’s proceedings. With luck, it would be just another pissed up lad would wouldn’t feel Phil’s heavy fists until he’d sobered up in the morning and not one of the girls. Phil was not sexist. The lad would punch both genders.

“Do you know, Phil? Why do birds always go to the toilets together?”

The big lad grunted and shrugged before reaching for his fresh pint. Phil wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. Dave then noticed that bloody girl again. The crowd had moved. She had her arms around some bloke old enough to be her dad, while precariously balanced on his knee. From where Dave sat, it looked the man wasn’t too happy with having some oversexed teen trying to undress him in front of the club’s audience.

Dave yelped in shock and pain when his friend tapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s well annoying, ain’t it, Dave,” said Phil. “You wanna know what I think? I reckon that they go to the bog together so they can work on each other.” Phil ran his tongue across his wet lips. “Oh yeah, that’ll be what they’re doing alright. Those birds would have squeezed into one cubicle and used their fingers on their twats, getting them all lubricated, just for me.” Phil nodded. “Makes sense, really.”

Dave felt his mouth muscles rise. It was an automatic response. He had learned years ago that whenever Phil expressed some puerile statement, it was a good idea to go along with him. He should have guessed Phil would spout out some chunk of bullshit relating to his sexual prowess. The gorilla thought he was a sex-god and that all women wanted to sleep with him. The sad fact was that Phil wasn’t that far off the mark. Most of the eligible teens in Cerchester swarmed around Phil’s type. It appeared that the misogynistic, brain-dead, muscle-bound male was the in-thing in this fucked up town.

He tore his eyes off the girl in the blue dress and looked back at the toilets. Where were they? He pushed away his friend’s perverted images and guessed they were more likely to be stood in front of the mirror, checking their make-up and discussing which lad they would choose. Dave so hoped the blonde one would pick him. That Lisa was so tidy, perfect teeth, beautiful deep blue eyes and a cleavage that just demanded full attention. The brunette, Amber, was rather easy on the eye as well, but Dave did have a preference for blondes. He didn’t think that Phil would care about which lass he ended up in bed with.

His relationship with Phil went back to when he and his family had decided to move to Cerchester. Phil Banks was the first boy at school who Dave met. Even at the age of thirteen, Phil was a big lad, prone to bullying anyone who was smaller than he was. Of course, Phil regarded the new boy as fresh meat, yet another chew toy to play with. Dave had encountered kids like Phil at his other school. It surprised him to discover that the tactic he used to stop them from giving Dave a good slapping worked just as well with this new kid. He volunteered to help Phil with his homework.

They had both left school and within a week of leaving, they had both started working at the same factory. That wasn’t so unusual, since Dexter’s Meat packaging was the largest employer in their shitty little town every year, and the factory employed a smattering of school-leavers.

The job sucked out your soul and the money they paid was a joke. Still, the free food did help to make up for the job’s crapness; at least they would never go hungry. The damaged products that the bosses allowed them to take home did help to supplement his mother’s grocery budget. In his dark periods, he always tried to look on the bright side; at least he did have a job. Many in town didn’t.

They both worked side by side on the assembly line in the main building with a dozen or more other workers. Phil was not the most productive worker and on more than one occasion, Dave had no choice but to cover for his friend’s lack of productivity.

His generosity wasn’t without an ulterior motive. He benefited from the partnership as well. Phil allowed Dave to tag along at the weekend so they could pick up girls. Phil knew that if it weren’t for Dave helping him out, he would have joined the dole queue months ago.

The lasses had always flocked around Phil, ever since his balls had dropped. Despite the horrible way he treated them, there were always plenty more females wanting to share Phil’s bed. Deep down, Dave knew that he ought to be ashamed of himself. He was only using Phil so he could get the girls too.

Aside from alcohol induced mental bafflement and the chance of scoring on a weekend, their town had nothing else to offer. There was no cinema, no sports facilities, no nothing. Dave had never done drugs and unlike Phil, he didn’t receive any thrills from knocking the crap out of people. Cerchester was a complete dump. A hovel of a town set in the middle of nowhere and he hated the place.

He watched the girls leave the toilets. The blonde pushed past a skinny girl, giggling when she fell into the back of a group of bikers. Dave’s heart sank, as he imagined Phil doing the same thing. The two girls walked over to the bar. Dave watched the blonde make her way towards Phil.

“So, where are you two handsome boys going to take us next?” asked Lisa, She ran her tongue along her lips then ran her manicured finger slowly down the front of Phil’s shirt.

He should have known this would have happened. As per usual, Phil had landed the looker while he had ended up with the cast off. Dave inwardly sighed and tried not to watch the blonde’s hand gravitate towards Phil’s crotch. He turned and smiled shyly at Amber and waited for his drink-blurred eyes to focus. She really wasn’t that bad looking. Granted the girl wasn’t a stunner like Lisa but he’d been out with a lot worse. “Where do you lovely ladies like to go next?” he said, trying not to watch Phil’s hand climb up Lisa’s shapely thigh. There was never an ounce of hesitation in Phil’s advances. Even with a few pints down Dave’s throat, he still wouldn’t dare to be as forward as his mate.

Lisa giggled when Phil’s hand reached her backside but made no attempt to remove it. “We ain’t got much of a choice have we,” she said. There’s only two clubs in town and this is the best one.”

Phil leaned between Dave and Amber and grabbed his drink from the bar. The lad paused to look down Amber’s top before draining the beer. “You know the plan, it’s food time now.” He dropped the glass on the floor. “We’re getting something to eat. I’m fucking starving. I could eat a dead horse sandwich.”

Lisa giggled as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world. Dave forced his mouth into a resemblance of a smile and saw Amber doing the same.

“Well, why don’t we check out that new Indian that’s just opened up off Jackson Road?” asked Amber. “I’ve heard that the food isn’t that bad in there and it’s pretty cheap.”

Dave nodded. “Oh, you mean the Kashmir Inn? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, we haven’t been there either.” He smiled at Amber, pleased to see her smile back. Dave then noticed Lisa whisper into Phil’s ear and they both smirked. He’d seen that look on Phil’s face before, and it usually meant trouble. He also found it disconcerting to see the same expression on the new girl’s face. Dave blinked, and turned back to Amber. “We could do with checking it out.”

“Since when did you like curries?” asked Lisa, sneering at her friend. She gazed up at Phil. “Don’t listen to that silly bitch, she’s just showing off. She always gets like this after a few lagers.”

Dave moved closer to Amber, his hand instinctively found hers. He tried to shallow down his explosion of guilt for thinking with his cock a few minutes ago. He squeezed her hand, watching Phil eying up Lisa’s generous curves. It looked as if she’d spray painted that black dress onto her firm body. Oh, she was a vision to look at, but Dave now saw that beneath that luscious flesh, that bitch was just as bitter, twisted and ugly as Phil.

Phil shook his head and stared at Dave. “Are you two right in your head?” He looked as though he’d just swallowed a fly. Phil squeezed Lisa’s backside. “I want something real quick, like a pizza or a kebab.” He winked at Lisa. “Once I’ve stuff my face with some meat, I’ll then stuff my thick meat into you.”

Phil was such a romantic individual.

“Yeah, that’s what we can do. We’ll get some food and crash at Dave’s house for the night. His mum and dad have fucked off on their holiday for a couple of weeks. You don’t mind, do you, lad. I expect you’ll be glad for the company.”

Dave reluctantly shook his head; there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d dare say no to Phil. His libido wilted at the thought of just how much tidying up he’d have to do once he’d evicted Phil’s hungover form from his house in the morning. His friend wasn’t the tidiest of people. The last time he’d been over, Phil had walked into his dad’s garden shed and picked up a chisel, then used the tool to carve his name into Dave’s bedroom wall. When Dave had confronted Phil, he had just shrugged and said that he was bored.

Phil grabbed Lisa’s hand; he put his other hand around the girl’s chin and pulled her mouth towards his. “You’re about to get the best jump in your fucking life. I’m so going to make you scream out my name, you little slag.”

The girl giggled and placed her fingers between Phil’s legs. “I hope you can last longer than a few minutes.” She looked over at Dave. “Cos if you can’t I’ll have to jump on his cock.”

Dave felt himself go red.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” growled Phil. “You’re mine and I don’t share. I’m taking your parent’s bed, Dave.” Phil winked at him then dragged Lisa across the dance floor, heading towards the exit.

Amber put her hands around his waist and pulled him closer. “Don’t take any notice of Lisa. She’s had way too much, as per usual. The silly bitch will be asleep before your mate can get her in bed.”

Dave chuckled, “That won’t bother Phil, he won’t care.”

“You’re not like that, are you?”

He shook his head. “No, I can state categorically that I’m nothing like him. Half the time I always end up apologising for the big goon.”

She laughed. “It’s okay; I know exactly what you mean. Lisa is just like him. In fact, she’s probably a lot worse. You don’t want to know how bad she can be when the mood takes her.” She looked past him. “We’d better get a move on; those two are almost at the door.”

Dave looked at the girl in a new light. He had just realised Amber was just like him, a hanger on. He held her hand while weaving through the crowds. This was just unreal. Why had he never bumped into Amber until now? Dave then saw that young teen pushing her larger breasts into the face of her catch and felt so ashamed of his earlier behaviour. He hadn’t noticed her until now because he’d been too obsessed in emulating Phil’s desires.

After all these years, had he actually found another human being who lived in this fucking dump that was actually pleasant?

Chapter Three

The only lady that Kevin Lonsdale ever loved was lady luck. Right now, that woman must have thought that the sun shone out of his large behind. He suppressed a smirk. This feisty young girl was everything that he had set out to seek. Oh yes, she was the perfect little specimen. He guessed that the girl was maybe fourteen, or at a stretch, a young looking seventeen. This one certainly had plenty of fire in her belly as well.

Kevin just knew that nobody would miss her. In fact, after watching her behaviour for the last half hour, he concluded that her parents would be glad to get rid of the fiery little bitch. Underage tarts like her disappeared every week in Cerchester. The suggestion was that the girls, and boys, and run away, that they had all been sick of their small town and had fucked off to the larger cities like Birmingham or London in search of a new life. Most local townsfolk knew otherwise. There were a lot of people living in Cerchester whose dark urges demanded satisfaction.

Kevin had given the young girl a tenner and asked her to get a couple more drinks, suggested that she’d be quicker getting served at the bar. He wasn’t prepared to join that crowd. It must be packed three deep, with the ones at the front all jostling the two stressed out bar staff and demanding drinks. He then looked over to the other bar on the opposite side of the club and sighed when he saw that one was almost clear.

Large crowds made Kevin very nervous. He rather sit and nurse an empty glass than try and wade through that throng of hostile looking clubbers. Unlike him, that girl obviously relished the challenge. She pushed and squeezed her body through gaps that weren’t even there. He would have tipped his hat, if he wore one. Watching the girl move was like watching oil slips through a cracked pipe. Those who didn’t move out of the end, ended up with the tip of her shoes in the back of their ankles.

“Those poor people,” he muttered. “What an aggressive little vixen.” He waited until the crowd swallowed her body before turning back to gaze into his empty glass. He giggled. His Anton would be so proud of him. She was everything that he had stipulated. In fact, it was uncanny just how close this girl fit Anton’s template. He couldn’t wait to get her back to their apartment.

Would his boyfriend be happy enough for sex? Now that was the million-dollar question. Oh God, he fucking hoped so. It had been weeks since Anton had gone anywhere near his body.

Anton was such an ungrateful pig. It so wasn’t fair. Just because Anton’s sex-drive had all but fizzled out, it didn’t mean that Kevin’s had vanished as well. At fifty-six, his boyfriend was Kevin’s senior by almost twenty years. The older man often boasted that when he was Kevin’s age, his sex-drive was in full gear and went through dozens of hot men every month. Whether or not his past exploits was true didn’t enter the argument. What pissed off Kevin was that he would have liked more than the single unenthusiastic fuck every blue moon. Was that too much to ask for?

“Oh no,” he sighed. Kevin felt the inside of his mouth suddenly go as dry as the bottom of a budgie cage when his paranoid mind showed him unwelcome images of his Anton being screwed by somebody else. Could his boyfriend really be seeing somebody behind his back? Despite not wanting to think that Anton could be cheating, it would answer the reason for Anton’s recent unusual behaviour. He screwed up his face, not wanting to go down that road. It was too late though, as soon as Kevin shut his eyes, he saw some strapping six four, muscle-bound gorgeous hunk thrusting into Anton. It would also account for Anton’s disinterest in his below stairs equipment.

He opened his eyes and watched some meathead on the other end of the club trying to eat some blonde girl’s face. Kevin thrust all those insecure thoughts into a box and locked it. He was being silly and he knew it. Such a thing was just not possible. Despite the man’s peculiar egocentricities, Anton loved Kevin. Plus the fact that Cerchester’s gay community was very small. It wouldn’t take long for the news to leek out that Anton had found another man.

Kevin also knew that nobody else in town would be able to cope with his boyfriend’s violent and unpredictable mood swings and his shocking temper. As for his needs, even for Cerchester, Anton’s urges were rather unusual. Kevin went out of his way to ensure that he fulfilled his boyfriend’s cravings. He sighed, if only Anton would reciprocate.

“I need to be harder with him,” he said, giggling. Not quite to show him who is boss but he was sure that he could work out some sort of deal. These weeks without sex were really fraying his nerves. Kevin noticed little miss jail-bait return from the bar, holding the drinks and wondered if he could plea bargain with Anton, tell him that he wasn’t getting her until Anton gave him a blow-job. It was ironic to think that the young tart over there was actually thinking that he was going to let her suck his dick. By the way she acted, he was willing to bet that she’d be pretty good at it as well.

Did that silly little girl have any idea how ridiculous she looked? Kevin was willing to bet his last pay packet that she probably practised that amateurish catwalk in a full-length mirror every night, just before mummy tucked her into bed with her teddy bears. She caught him staring and gave Kevin a seductive wink. Kevin winked back. Oh God, he felt his erection softening at the very thought of that child going anywhere near his downstairs equipment.

“So, I see you did manage to get served.”

The girl placed Kevin’s lager down on the table in front of his hand. She took a noisy slurp of her own drink before putting it down next to his. Kevin gazed in revulsion at the bright green concoction. He decided against asking her what was in it. Hell, the dizzy girl probably didn’t know herself and only chose it because she thought the colour went with her eyes. Her stomach would love her in the morning.

Kevin had to turn his head quickly and tried to swallow down the lager to stop him from choking. The poor brat was unlikely to see the next dawn, depending on how excited Anton got tonight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, pouting. “Of course I got served, you cheeky git. How many times do I have to tell you, I’m eighteen?”

Kevin took anther sip of the vile liquid that bore a passing resemblance to lager and sighed. He couldn’t be bothered explaining that he meant about all those people queuing up in front of the bar. There was no point.

She sat down on his lap and giggled before slowly leaning over to reach her own drink. Kevin’s nose was just millimetres away from her generous cleavage.

“Here, are you trying to look down my top?” She giggled again. “You are, you dirty old bastard.” She stared into Kevin’s eyes. “Is it really true about what they say about older men?”

“What do they say about older men?” He suddenly realised that he had forgotten her name.

“I mean about you lot being far more experienced and stuff. I mean, it sorta makes sense doesn’t it. You’ve had a load more years to practice.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “We all know that practice makes perfect.”

She slurped down some more of her green goo. Kevin had noticed that the little cow had neglected to give him his change. The girl then wrapped her cold fingers around his wrist and placed his hand on her thigh.

“I can tell that you like that, Kevin. Just feel the dress, don’t be shy. Ain’t it really tight, smooth and slippery? I’m telling you, it’s almost like being naked.” She sighed. “You have no idea how easy it is to slip out of this dress.”

Oh Jesus, he needed to get this little nympho out of this club and into the back of his van as soon as possible. If she carried on like this, she’d end up raping him, right here and now. She flung her slender arms tight around his neck and pressed her hot body against his chest.

The scent of the girl’s sweet perfume filled his nostrils, forcing Kevin to breathe through his mouth. What had she done, taken a bath in the stuff? He might have forgiven her if it was an expensive brand, but judging from the way it was singing his nostril hair, Kevin guessed that her dad had bought some knock off stuff from some dodgy bloke from the market.

“Oh Kevin, I’m so hot,” she murmured into his ear. “Would you like to take me somewhere a little cooler?”

He prised her off his face, just in time to see the meathead and a pretty blonde girl walk past them.

“Hey there, big tits, do you fancy a threesome?”

The girl smacked the meathead on the arm. “Fuck off, Phil. I ain’t sharing you with anyone, especially with some twelve-year-old prostitute.”

Kevin pulled the girl back into his embrace and kissed her. He had no choice; the little demon would have launched herself at the other girl otherwise. “I have a big van parked out in the carpark,” he said, pulling away from her lips. “It’s decked out with all the latest mod cons.”

She waited for the blonde girl to leave the club before turning back to face Kevin. “Even a bed?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, even a bed.”

“Ain’t you the dark horse!” she said, chuckling. “I’d have never guessed it, looking at you. It just goes to show that looks are deceiving.”

The girl got that right. Hell, nearly all the locals led double lives. Learning to cover up your secret desires and urges was something they all learned at an early age. Kevin briefly wondered if the girl had any dark desires. Not that he really cared. The girl would be dead soon anyway and her life, for what it was, would soon be over.

“What’s so funny?”

Kevin hadn’t realised that he was smiling. He kissed her softly. “I’m just happy that I’ve met you, that’s all.” His sudden response surprised the hell out of him, it almost sounded like he meant his words. He put that down to nerves. He always got like this when he was ready to take it to the next stage. Those nerves were all Anton’s bloody fault. He got Kevin so wound up just before he set off in the van.

Anton made Kevin go through the inventory four times before he allowed Kevin to drive off. Did he have the Gaffa tape? Don’t forget the drugs and the syringe. Do you have enough plastic sheeting?

After all these years, Anton still fussed over him like a mother hen. At least, that is how Kevin chose to look at it. In truth, it felt more like his boyfriend did not trust him.

In all the time that he had been grabbing girls and young women for Anton, had Kevin ever bungled a job? No, of course he hadn’t. Anton would never take that into consideration. Kevin sighed, he just hoped that this time, his boyfriend would appreciate all the work he put into pleasing Anton. There were a few hidden items stored in the glovebox and under the passenger seat. Anton didn’t have a clue that they were there. He had popped into a card shop earlier this afternoon and picked up a couple of rolls of dark blue wrapping paper and a spool of pink silk ribbon. Anton loved both colours.

Anton was always accusing Kevin of having no imagination. He kept saying Kevin was boring and predictable. Well, he would show him alright. Kevin tried not to grin; Anton would just love his surprise.

He pushed the young clingy tart off his lap and reached for his drink. Considering it had cost him money, Kevin didn’t intend to waste it. How was Anton going to react when he presented the corpse all wrapped up complete with a pretty bow wrapped around it? Kevin spat the lager back into the glass. This stuff was vile, it tasted even worse than the last pint. He ought to report this club for breaching the trade descriptions act.

“Oh my, haven’t you got really big hands, so strong and firm. I can’t wait to feel them caressing my naked body.”

His hands were indeed going to be all over her body tonight. But she wouldn’t feel them. Kevin was going to spend a lot of time with this one; she needed to be just right for Anton. For a start, he needed to sponge her body down and dry it before wrapping it up. The last thing he wanted was for Anton to choke to death on her cheap perfume when he ripped off the paper.

The girl suddenly ceased her crude attempts at seduction. She obviously must have decided that the hunt was well and truly over now and that Kevin belonged to her. It wasn’t too difficult to reach that conclusion. Just listening to her rattle on about how her mother didn’t understand gave him the first clue. Kevin only listened with half an ear. He was too intent on getting her from the stage of being alive to being dead to give the silly girl his full attention.

Kevin stood up and grabbed the giggling girl’s hand. “It’s time to go, darling,” he said, smiling. Thankfully, the club wasn’t so full now, so it didn’t take too long to get the girl outside.

As he pulled her across the carpark, he realised the she was still going on about her stupid family. Kevin had made a mistake. She was going to be a screamer. The mouthy ones always were. As soon as she saw the interior of his van, the little bitch would wail like a fucking banshee. Shit, he should have spiked her drink before leaving the club. Well, he’d just have to resort to punching her. Anton got all pissy when he bruised his goods but if he was careful, Anton might not notice.

Kevin then slowly smiled. He’d just thought of an amazing idea. “Do you like to play games?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. What sort of games?”

“What do you think? I’m not talking about draughts or chess. I mean games that involve handcuffs.”

She didn’t reply, at first. It didn’t look as though she was going to go for it. His van was now in sight; Kevin clenched his fist, getting ready to hit her.

“Ain’t you the dark horse! God, I love bondage.”

He silently sighed with relief. “They’re not real, of course.” He said, lying. “They’re just quick release but you can’t tell the difference.”

“Is all that stuff in your van, Kevin?” She laughed out loud. “Oh my God! It is, I can tell by the look on your face!”

Kevin gently squeezed her hand then nodded happily. This was going just great. It looked as though everything was going to turn out just fine.  She wrestled her hand out of his grip and raced over to the vehicle. The girl leaned back against the black transit. Kevin ground his teeth when she placed her stiletto against the paintwork.

“Kevin, I need you to kiss me.”

He shrugged. He could do that again, it seemed like a reasonable last request. As he leaned towards her puckered lips, another sweet scent suddenly invaded his nostrils. Oh fuck, Kevin knew this aroma intimately.

Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged Kevin away from the grinning girl. He attempted to spin around and face his assailant, only to feel two pairs of rough hands wrap around both of his arms.

“Will you stop struggling, you annoying man?”

Oh no, it was his Anton! His aroma was unmistakable. What was he doing here? “Anton, is that you?” he spluttered. “What are you doing here? I have it all under control, I promise.”

The young tart started to laugh. So did someone else. Kevin whipped his head around and saw the face of a grey haired stranger grinning right back at him. His heart began to race; he got the feeling that he’d just been set up. In fact, he was sure of it. Oh bollocks, it all began to fit together, no wonder this girl matched Anton’s description.

“Right then, Kevin. I have somebody who is just dying to meet you. That man holding your other arm is called Daniel. Don’t be rude, Kevin. I want you to stop staring and say hello to him.”

Kevin gave the grinning fat slob a single withering glance. So, this was his replacement. How could his Anton do this to him? How could he humiliate him after all of his faithful years? Kevin refused to allow the hot tears flow; he wasn’t going to stand for it, no way. There would be no more compliant Kevin from him; they were both about to find out just how hard he could punch somebody.

“Can we do the queer now?” asked the girl, giggling.

“Shut your fucking hole!” The stranger shouted.

Something wasn’t right with this scene. A huge slab of wrongness speared through Kevin’s feelings of hurt and betrayal. He then yelped in surprise as he felt something sharp pierce the small of his back.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Kevin.” Anton whispered behind him. He ran his finger around the outside of Kevin’s ear. “I can always tell when you get all stressed out. Your forehead furrows up like a ploughed field. It’s very cute.” Anton moved into his vision, turned to face the man and planted a single kiss on his cheek. “How long will until the drug takes, Daniel?”

“It’ll take just a few seconds. In fact we should be able to release him now.”

“Just what the hell is going on?” said Kevin. He was seriously confused and more than a little frightened now. The two men then let go of him. Kevin remained where he was. Try as he might, he could not move his arms.

“I’m sure that you of all people are aware that there are a vast amount of dirty secrets in this town.” Daniel said. “The folk do their nasty little deeds either behind closed doors or out of plain sight. Well, I intend to bring it all out into the open. Just you wait until the others in town smell you, they’ll go crazy.”

Kevin tried to tune the man’s whiny little voice out. He closed his eyes and tried to move his fingers. Those fuckers had injected him with something. Well, they weren’t going to beat him. Kevin put all the concentration he could muster in trying to move his thumbs.

“We did have some good times, Kevin. I don’t want you to feel sad. You should feel privileged here. You’re about to wake up an entire town. You’re going to be our very own beacon of hope.”

“More like a beacon of light.” Daniel said.

The girl giggled. Kevin’s eyes shot open when he heard the sound of sloshing water. The ugly man waved a bottle of water in front of his eyes. He unscrewed the cap and emptied the contents over Kevin’s feet. The fumes hit him immediately. It wasn’t water. That stuff smelled like lighter fluid.

“Oh God. Jesus, God no. Anton! Please, don’t do this!”

The man showed him another bottle and poured more of the liquid over Kevin’s trousers. The prostrate man screamed and raged as Daniel poured the remaining liquid over his head.

The only man that Kevin had ever loved, reached into his back pocket, he brought out a Zippo lighter, flicked the wheel and threw the lighter at Kevin’s shrieking form.

Chapter Four

The large stone just missed the cat’s head by about an inch. The missile bounced off a green wooden gate, rolled along the edge of the kerb and dropped into an open storm drain. The black cat whipped its head around and hissed at them before darting under a hedge.

“I could have got that fucking moggie good and proper if you hadn’t coughed, you stupid turd.” Phil glared at Dave. “This is all your fault, you’re such a dumb twat.” Phil growled.

The girl hanging off Phil’s arm chuckled. Lisa had been making that irritating sound ever since they had left the club. It was really getting on Dave’s nerves. He saw that he wasn’t the only one. Dave sympathised with his new girl, he really did. She must have been listening to that girl’s annoying giggles for ages.

Whenever Phil came out with something that he thought was funny, Lisa would laugh along side him. It seemed like Phil had finally found his soul mate, another person who was just like him, another one who enjoyed showing off and inflicting misery on others. Phil had been out with nasty cows in the past but this one took the biscuit.

“You really are a dumb cunt, Dave. Then again, I’ve known that for years so I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

Dave hadn’t coughed at all. He had no idea that he was going to throw the stone at that poor cat.

“I bet you didn’t know that your new boyfriend was a cunt, Amber.”

Amber gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve heard that opinion is also in the eye of the beholder, Phil. Somehow though, I suspect that a handsome chap like you has known that for a long time.” She waited until Lisa turned away and back to playing the role of Phil’s attentive girl before she gave Dave a sly wink.

Bloody hell, that was just great. Amber had managed to appease the nasty gorilla and Lisa with that piece of borderline diplomacy. Even so, once he was alone with her, Dave would have to take the girl to one side and explain that sometimes, it was just a better idea to keep quiet. If you confused the bloke, he did have a tendency to lash out with those hard fists. His policy was smacking them first, just in case they were taking the piss out of him.

“As you fucked up my aim and let that bastard cat run off, I think that you deserve to be punished. I reckon that you ought to buy me supper.” He grinned at Lisa. “What do you think?”

She giggled. “You know what I think. Hell, he ought to buy mine as well.”

Dave silently groaned, why did he not see this one coming? The bastard had pulled this trick on him loads of times. This night out was going to cost him a bloody fortune. “Okay, Phil. Fair enough. We’ll have to stop off at a cash machine though; I don’t have much money left.”

Phil stopped dead; he ran over to a low wall and leaned over the top and stood up, showing them a large round stone. “I’m not sure that I believe you, Dave. I know you; your wallet is always full of notes. This time though, I’ll just assume that you’re telling the truth. It will cost you though. I expect you to but me my lunch at work for a few days.”

That Lisa let out one more annoying squeaky laugh.

“There’s a hole in the wall on the other side of the street, Dave. Oh, and don’t even think of running off. I won’t miss this time.

Dave sighed, and then stepped out into the empty road. He allowed Phil’s threats to wash over him. Dave was used to his behaviour. How much was this going to cost him? He tried to work out how much of last month’s wage was left in his account but his drunken mind refused to cooperate.

“Oi, fuckhead!”

Dave resisted the temptation to spin around and face Phil. The bastard had caught him out like this before. He’d turn around and Phil would launch that stone right at his face. Phil would roll about the ground laughing while he’d be nursing yet another bruise for a few weeks.

“Cloth ears, don’t you dare fucking ignore me.”

Dave counted to three, told himself that it would only hurt for a few seconds before turning, getting ready to duck. He saw that Lisa had her slender hands on Amber’s shoulders. She then pushed the girl off the kerb.

“What the fuck have I told you about leaving all your shite lying about?” shouted Phil. “Catch us up, you turd, and don’t take all fucking night either, I’m hungry.”

He glared as Phil and Lisa took off, hand in had, giggling like a pair of school kids. “Are you okay?” asked Dave, picking Amber off the floor.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, Dave.” She brushed some bits of broken glass from her jeans. “The bitch has done far worse to me.”

He helped her across the road. “Well, I suppose I had better withdraw the last of my wage. It’s best not to keep him waiting.” Dave had finally worked out how much he had left in his account. It wasn’t good. He’d have to break into his board-money to pay for tonight. His parents weren’t due back until Wednesday, he was sure that he could find somebody to sub him the money before then.

Amber grabbed his arm and frog-marched him over to the cash machine.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious. I’m making it look as though we are going to the cash machine.”

“But, we are, Amber.”

He turned his head and saw the others cross an intersection. Dave guessed that Phil would be taking his new piece of nasty arse over to the Spicy Meat Hut over on Scarman Street. It was their local takeaway. The food was cheap and the owner knew them and always gave Phil extra portions. Dave then groaned in misery when he saw Lisa point up the side street. Phil turned and waved before following Lisa up that street.

“Oh, this is just bloody great,” he muttered. “I can do without this hassle. Amber, that’s where all the posh restaurants are.” He would have to take out all of his board-money, that fucker was going to bleed him dry.

“Right, it’s okay they’re gone.” Amber pushed him up against the wall. “Now, let’s sort you out before we sort each other out.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Dave softly on the lips. She pulled back and grinned. “You don’t have to say anything; I can see your response on your face. You see, I took the liberty of going through Lisa’s purse while we were in the toilets. I think that she ought to be paying for this night out, don’t you? After all, it was her idea to go upmarket.”

Oh God, this was so weird. Dave thought that he could be falling in love. Phil could keep the blonde, Lisa might be well tidy but that girl really was a horrible person, just a thin coating of pretty over a rotting chunk of meat. Dave stifled a giggle. “Wait, you’re telling me that you stole some money from Lisa? Oh dear, you’re nothing but a dirty little thief.”

Amber kissed him on the nose. “I’ll show you just how dirty I am later on, Dave.” She propelled him towards the cash machine. “Come on, we still need to make it look like you’re grabbing some money, in case they’re still watching us.”

It wasn’t fair. He wanted to take this lovely girl home right now. Fat chance of that happening, he wouldn’t dare leave Phil. That fucker knew where he lived. He tried to think of other things instead of his mate wrecking his life.

“Don’t you feel guilty about running off with her hard earned cash?”

She shook her head. “I used to but not anymore. Besides, it wasn’t hard earned. Her dad is stinking rich. All she has to do is flutter those pretty eyes and her old man hands over a couple of thick wads.”

Dave slid his card into the machine.

“I just see it as compensation now. It’s my way of getting my own back for her being a complete bitch to me all the time.”

“Why do you stay with her then?”

“Why do you stay with Phil?” She replied.

He sighed, “Well, it can’t have escaped your attention that folk in this town aren’t very neighbourly to one another.”

Amber shivered. “When my parents moved here last month, I thought we had arrived in hell.”

Dave’s head snapped up when a horrifying shriek echoed through the cold night air. He looked at Amber’s frightened face.”

“What the bloody hell was that?” she hissed.

He shrugged. “Welcome to Cerchester. Stuff like that happens a lot. You get used to it, eventually.”

Dave placed his card back in his wallet. If his balance was correct, he should have enough money to last him until next week, as long as he didn’t pig out on food. Dave took Amber’s hand then led her across the road. “As for hanging around with Phil, compared to the other lads my age, Phil is an angel. Sure, he nicks my money, uses my house as a rubbish tip and don’t forget the few odd slaps but at least I can go out and have a drink with him.” He stopped in the middle of the road and turned to stare into her beautiful eyes. “Does that make sense? Sorry, I’m a bit drunk. If it wasn’t for him, I’d have stayed indoors, hiding under my bed and listening to the drunken night-life kicking the shit out of each other.” He pushed back her long brown hair. “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you.” Dave leaned forward to kiss her, fully expecting her to close her eyes and kiss him back.

She placed two fingers on his lips and halted his progress. “Later, Dave. If you start all that, I’ll end up getting too excited.” Amber hurried across the road then looked back. “I want to wake up next to you, Dave. If we don’t follow this through, we both know what’ll happen; I’ll be visiting you in hospital.”

Dave caught up with her just as she passed a shuttered up discount store. She held out her hand. His fingers encircled hers. He’d been with a few of the local girls since he and Phil had started visiting the clubs and every single one of them bar none were very similar to how Lisa behaved. Granted, maybe not as bitchy as Phil’s new floosie but still enjoyed the same selfish, nasty and self-centred traits.

He smiled at Amber and felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy when she smiled back. Dave couldn’t lose this one. At last, he had found a normal girl in this town full of freaks and psychos.

“Which one do you think they chose?”

Dave knew exactly where he’d have taken Lisa. Grassmere Street had six Indian restaurants, three on each side. There wasn’t much difference in five of them in taste or price and after a few pints; it never mattered anyway. The Saffron Inn, on the over hand, was in a class of its own. The food was exquisite but the prices were unbelievable. The Saffron Inn was reserved for overtime weeks and special occasions. Dave pointed to the white faced building just a few shops away. “They’ll be in there. I’ll guarantee it.”

“Come on then, Dave. Let’s go spend all of Lisa’s cash. I hope they have some decent beer.”

Dave grinned. “Oh yeah, it’s a lot better than the swill they serve in the clubs.” He envisaged Phil drinking bottle after bottle whilst eating his way through as many dishes as he could. He then had an amazing idea. “How much of Lisa’s money did you take?”

“About £300, I think, why?”

“Well, there’s a bed and breakfast just around the corner. Why don’t I just buy the bastard a couple of drinks, pay for the meal then I’ll drop a few hints about the bed and breakfast. He’ll go for the idea, I know he will.” Dave grinned. “I’ll use my own version of psychology on him, make it look as it was his idea. He’ll go for it; the place is closer than my house, less distance to walk.”

She nodded, “He wanted a takeaway in the first place.”

“I reckon that he will go for it. He only came in here to piss me off. Besides, I know what he’s like when he picks up a new piece of flesh. He can’t wait to tear off the packaging…” he looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m only quoting his words.” Dave was about to tell Amber that he wasn’t like Phil when three people rushed past them, almost knocking the girl into the road. It was that bloody girl again, the scantily clad schoolgirl that Phil was eying up earlier. What were they up to?

Dave recognised one of the men; he worked at the plant in one the offices upstairs. Anton his name was, he wouldn’t forget that name in hurry, Jesus, not after what happened in the staff canteen, a few weeks ago. That bloke had been responsible for almost getting Phil the sack. He’d just happened to walk past their table at break and accidentally knocked Phil’s arm just as he’d lifted up his cup of coffee. The warm liquid had soaked through Phil’s white overall. Naturally, he’d reacted in his usual fashion of jumping out of his seat, smacking the apologetic man in the nose and calling Anton a few choice words relating to his sexuality.

Dave watched him stop beside the black door of the restaurant a few doors from them, open the door and bellow into the building, he then ran to the next restaurant and repeated the procedure. The other two were doing the same on the other side of the street. He watched the stranger reach the Saffron Inn.

“What the hell are they playing at?” Amber gasped. “This is way too weird, even for this town.”

He couldn’t agree more. “Call it a gut feeling, Amber, but I reckon that we should make ourselves scarce.”

Something was definitely wrong in the town tonight. Ever since that scream earlier on, he’d felt a change in the air.

“Yeah, suddenly, I feel like a lamb in a town full of wolves.” She wrapped her arms around Dave’s back. “I’m really scared, Dave. Is it just me? It must be the booze, Lisa insisted on plying me with all these stupidly expensive cocktails. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they turned, all the restaurant doors crashed open and the once deserted street filled up with Cerchester’s nightlife. The crowds of jostling people rushed along the pavement, all heading in their direction.

Dave grabbed Amber’s hand, he pressed himself against a steel shutter just as four teenage girls, all dressed in matching green miniskirts pushed past him and Amber. He stared at their vacant faces: Christ, the girls all looked drugged up to their eyeballs. Looking around, the other people all wore similar expressions. He squeezed through the advancing masses, keeping close to the shop fronts. He daren’t let go of Amber’s hand. Dave ducked into an alcove and pulled the girl in. They stayed there in shocked silence, watching dozens of people spilling out of the restaurants and running to catch up with the main crowds.

He then recognised a couple at the tail end, leaving the Saffron Inn. Dave ran out of the alcove and jumped up, waving his arms. “Phil!” He shouted. “Phil, over here, what’s going on?”

The lad turned around, gazed at Dave then turned back and continued heading towards the others.

“He didn’t even recognise me,” he muttered walking back to Amber. “He had no idea who I was and he was smiling. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Phil smile.”

Amber looked past him, she pointed at a lone figure leaving the same restaurant. “Look at him, Dave. He looks as confused as we are.”

“That’s Robert; he was in my class at school.” Dave turned to Amber. “He wasn’t born here either. Come on.” He said, pulling her out of the alcove. “Let’s see if he knows what’s going on.”

The rest of the other people had now disappeared, all heading towards the town centre. Robert just stood outside the restaurant, with his hands on his hips. He had a feeling that the lad knew about as much about this odd situation as Dave and Amber.

“Robert!” He yelled.

The lad looked over, saw them and waved.

“At least he still knows who I am,” he muttered. “Robert, where are they all going?”

Robert walked towards them. He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue, guy. One minute, we were all sat around the table, laughing and joking when all of a sudden, this freakazoid slams open the front door and says some bloke is on fire. Everyone starts to laugh and then this smell follows Mr Freakazoid in and everyone shuts up and rushes out like they were hypnotised or something.” He shakes his head. “Look, guy, it’s good to see you and all that.” Robert looks back towards where the others had gone. “I have to split; my girlfriend was in that crowd.”

The lad ran off.

Amber shivered. “I don’t believe that, I mean, I’ve heard rumours whilst I’ve been here but not anything like that. Somebody on fire? I mean, we’d have heard the sirens by now, surely?”

Dave didn’t immediately reply. He’d lived here for most of his life. Some folk around here were capable of doing such a heinous act and more besides but it was kept in the closet, nobody admitted to anything, therefore it didn’t happen. “We ought to follow them, Amber.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure we should. Let’s go somewhere else, somewhere safe.”

“We need to know. Look, we’ll just see what all the fuss is about. It’ll only take a few seconds.”

“A minute,” she replied, sighing. “Then we get the hell out of here.”

They followed Robert back towards the centre. Amber kept tight hold of his hand. He daren’t look back. Amber was right, they shouldn’t be doing this. Despite living here for most of his life, the people born here had many times treated him as though he was just passing through the town.

Dave stopped and picked up the stone that Phil threatened to throw at him.

“Oh Jesus, Dave, look at that!”

He followed her pointed arm and saw a huge column of thick smoke rising into the night sky. “They’re over there, outside the nightclub.” It looked as though the whole town was packed into the club’s carpark. He saw a little girl wearing a thin nightie sat on top of a middle aged man’s shoulders. As they got closer, Dave could hear a man’s deep voice booming out from the middle of that crowd. At this distance, he couldn’t make out the words but he certainly saw the effect he was having on the people.

The crowd sighed as one then another burst out in cheers.

“Time to go,” Amber said, tugging at his hand, “This is so wrong.”

He shook her hand off and jumped onto a car’s bonnet. He then saw Phil pushing his way to the front of the crowd with Lisa close behind him. Phil’s arm then snaked out and grabbed Robert.

“Let’s do another!” he shouted.

The crowd burst into cheer once more. Dave jumped off the car, grabbed hold of Amber and bolted in the opposite direction.

Chapter Five

Gavin McAlister took both his feet off his sparse desk and sighed with boredom. His police station was way too quiet tonight. He would normally welcome the boredom but it disturbed Gavin. He glanced up at the battered digital clock bolted to the wall above his door. “This is so wrong,” he muttered. “It’s almost Sunday. Where’s the drunken brawls and the stolen cars? Not even one broken window.”

It had been like this all night. In all these months since coming to this weird little town, he’d never known a Saturday like it. Apart from the incident with the car earlier, he could almost be back at his old station.

He carefully picked up one of the knives from the leather satchel and held it out in front of him, watching the light reflect off the metal. He didn’t need to be a forensic scientist to tell him that this ordinary looking kitchen knife had been used for more purposes than just to cut cucumbers and tomatoes. He’d already spotted flakes of dried blood around the base of the blade. Looking closer, he now saw more dried blood on the handle. Knowing what he’d learned so far about Cerchester, it would definitely be human blood.

Gavin carefully placed the knife back inside the satchel and dropped it into an evidence bag. The whole lot then went into his top drawer. After his shift finished, Gavin intended to keep the knives in his car until morning. It was the safest place. He locked the drawer and placed the key in his top pocket. He’d take a drive over to Eastmere station in the morning and let their lab boys take a look at them. He should have done this weeks ago, getting outside help was the only way Gavin would sort out this diseased town. There was no point in keeping it local; conducting an investigation in Cerchester would be a complete waste of time. Nobody would admit or talk about anything.

Gavin hated this hideous and depraved town. If he knew what this place was really like, he would have told his DSI to go fuck himself. He’d been brought in from Eastmere last month when the local DI had just disappeared. Nobody had seen sight or sound of the man. It was as if he’d just dropped off the edge of the earth.

He double-checked that he’d locked the desk drawer and stood up. He stretched his legs and tapped his shirt pocket. He’d learned recently that leaving evidence lying around was just asking for it to disappear. “Just like the DI.” That included anything left in his drawers. After a month, Gavin still had no idea who was removing property. It could be any of the local officers; knowing the sad excuses that passed for police in this weird town, it was probably all of his so-called team.

He always got the distinct impression that all the other officers were sharing some sort of private joke when he was around them. The only other person in the office tonight sighed and quietly coughed. Gloria was supposed to be the station’s administration personnel officer. This, as far as Gavin could make out, was just another name for a glorified secretary.

According to what he had read from out of her file, Gloria was forty-six and had been an employee of Cerchester’s small police force for twenty-five years. Going through all their records had been his only method of finding out just who he was working with. None of them would ever volunteer information. If so, he wasn’t totally sure that even the records were truthful.

He watched the woman scrape her chair back, stand up and walk past him, yawning. As per usual, Gloria had blanked him. Gavin sighed. This was so annoying. Of all the people whom he worked with, he thought that he’d been making a little headway with the woman and she was starting to treat him with a little bit of dignity. It looked as though he had been mistaken.

The woman then shocked him stupid by gently placing a cup of coffee on his desk. She’d never done that before. He covered up his surprise and smiled. “Thank you, Gloria.” Even if it she had only brought it over from the free vending machine by the front door, it was the thought that counted. This time last week, she would never have even done that.

When he had first arrived to this hellhole, Gloria was just as bad as the rest of them, if not worse. Gavin watched her return to her desk and wondered if this was just another one of their strange games, the secretary version of good cop, bad cop routine. It might be just another one of their ways to get him to leave town. Gavin wasn’t too sure if he should drink the coffee.

He watched her sit back down and smiled at her, then picked up the cup. What the hell, if she had placed anything in there, like glass or nails, he’d soon find out. Gavin took one sip and winced, the stuff from the machine was awful, if Gloria had placed anything suspicious in the drink, at least it would improve the flavour. He had always assumed that the coffee from the machine at Eastmere couldn’t be beaten for grossness. “They don’t need threats,” he murmured. “I’d leave tomorrow, if I could.”

Gloria was married to Gavin’s new sergeant, a delightful individual called Andy Stewart. The thickset man made no secret of his dislike for Gavin. That was a mile way of putting it. The man hated him, that, he did know. Gavin looked over at his wife and tried to figure out what the attraction was. Gloria wasn’t the best looking woman in this town. Andy could have had any woman in Cerchester; he then realised that he did. Even for a man in his early forties, Andy had his fare share of women, young and old, who enjoyed his large frame.

Gavin had sent him to check on the victim’s shop. If he was a victim, that was. Somehow, he doubted that. Judging by the knives that he’d found in that leather satchel, Gavin guessed that he was a victim maker. It hadn’t taken Gavin that long to trace the owner of the Range Rover. Despite each and everyone refusing to speak to him, Gavin still had the skills he’d carefully honed over twenty years of being a detective. For this particular case though, he had only needed his eyes. He had passed the white Range Rover parked outside the hardware store every day on his way to work.

Sending Andy to check out the shop was probably a complete waste of time, the chances of that blundering idiot actually finding anything was slim to none. In fact, it did surprise Gavin that the sergeant had even listened to him. That bastard gave him more grief than all the others put together. That reminded him, the constables on duty tonight were supposed to be patrolling the town centre. He couldn’t recall any of them passing him.

“Gloria, do you know if the boys have left the station?

“Of course they have,” she replied, without looking up. “They hurried out while you were in the toilet.”

He stared at the woman, not believing that she’d had the guts to tell him such a bare-faced lie. Even after a month of this bullshit, it still pissed him off at how easily they all covered up for each other. He glanced over at the station door and just knew that those two coppers had not left this building. He knew exactly where the buggers were hiding. They’d be playing brag in the locker room. The woman did everything for those boys and they returned the favour by treating Gloria like a slave. Her husband was the worst of the lot.

The woman then jerked her eyes towards the pen window. “Hey, can you smell that?”

He took a tentative sniff and wrinkled his nose. Oh hell, that was just disgusting. What the bloody hell was it? The stink reminded him meat burning on a barbeque. “Yeah, I can smell it.”

She rushed passed Gavin and started to close the window. “Oh, Andy’s back, that’s his car turning into the carpark.”

The car’s headlights shone through the windows. He shouldn’t be back already. There was no way that the sergeant could have got to the shop and returned in such a short space of time. He leaned across his desk and switched on the fan, hoping that it would help to disperse that revolting smell.

The locker room door slammed open and the two missing constables and the duty officer ambled into the room. Gavin looked up at Gloria and watched her face turn a delicate shade of red. She didn’t like being caught out. It was good to see that at least one of them in the station still had a small amount of scruples.

Unlike those three who’d just entered. He heard them laughing and discussing just how much cash was owed to whom. Their disdain for his authority was disgraceful. Again, he wished he were back at his old station. There really was no point in giving them a dressing down, he could shout and scream until he was blue in the face, it did nothing but raise his blood pressure and stress him out.

The first man through the door was a young blond man called Shaun. His parents lived in one of the many farms that dotted the outskirts of Cerchester. By looking at him, anyone could be excused for thinking his parents fastened equipment to the lad and used him to plough the fields. The lad was huge; he easily made two of Gavin. He was even bigger than Andy.

The pair behind Shaun both looked across at Gavin; they saw his glare and treated their superior officer to a glare of their own. He wanted to run over there and twat the pair of them. They were both in their mid fifties, Genie and Howard. If he’d had his way, he’d retired them by now. Come to think of it, if he had his way, Gavin would have had them both thrown out of the force. They weren’t fit to wear that uniform.

Howard turned to his companion and he whispered something. They both giggled like a set of school kids. Genie removed his helmet, ran his thin fingers through his salt and pepper coloured hair, and smacked his companion on the shoulder with it.

“No, I’m not asking him,” Genie said, looking at Gavin.

Shaun stopped in mid-stride and shivered and groaned. Gavin watched a rope of saliva drop from the lad’s mouth and drip to the floor.

“Are you okay, son?”

Howard just laughed. “Don’t trying to pull the sickie routine, you big ape, just because you lost your fucking wages.”

Gloria rushed past Gavin. “Shaun, what’s wrong?”

The big man slowly raised his head at the sound of the woman’s concerned voice. Gavin slowly moved out of his chair, keeping his eyes on Shaun. That big dopy looking, slightly grouchy expression had vanished. The feral look of hate and lust that replaced it caused Gavin’s heart rate to double in speed.

“I’ve always fancied a piece of your arse, Gloria,” Shaun said.

Gavin leapt across the desk and ran into the youth. His sudden action caught Shaun off balance and the lad fell back into the other two. The lad unleashed an animal roar; he shook his companions off him and charged Gavin. The DI found himself falling against the side of his desk. He heard the front door crashing open and the foul stench of burning meat filled the station.

Gloria screamed out her husband’s name. Gavin never thought he’d be happy to see his Sergeant.

“Andy!” He screamed. “There’s something wrong with Shaun!”

Gavin got to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting through his side. Shaun was a huge lad; Andy wouldn’t have a hope restraining him alone. Gavin lifted his head; his eyes darted to the sergeant, hoping he was okay. He just gaped at the scene before him. All of the officers were stood around Gloria’s desk. They’d pushed everything off and hoisted the woman onto the surface. Two of them held her head down while Shaun was trying to pull her legs apart. Her husband stood with his back to Gavin but it was obvious what he was up to. Andy was slowly unbuckling his belt.

Training kicked in, Gavin shook the nausea away; he pulled out his police baton and cracked Andy in the back of the head. He should have just whipped out his legs from under the man; it would have achieved the same effect. Shaun turned around, still holding Gloria’s legs. He tried to head-butt the DI, and when the man jerked his head out of his reach, the huge man growled. He let go of Gloria’s legs and ran at Gavin; he tried to evade him but the desk got in his way.

A pair of huge hands encircled his neck and started to slowly squeeze. Gavin gazed into the insane face and knew that he was running out of life. Everything started to go grey; in panic he swung the baton into the side of the man, Shaun grunted but didn’t release him. He hit him again but he knew it was a futile gesture; it was like hitting a branch against a tree trunk.

“Get off him!”

The pressure lessened, he saw the woman hanging onto Shaun’s arm and screaming at him to get off, his response was to grunt again then boot the woman in the thigh as if she was no more bothersome than a poodle humping his leg. Gavin smashed the baton against the man’s waist but Shaun didn’t even bother to respond. Gavin’s strength was almost gone, Shaun probably didn’t even feel it.

Gavin’s world suddenly exploded. The pressure around his neck dropped off and he felt something heavy falling in front of him. He opened his eyes and gaped at the headless corpse lying in front of him. The smell of cordite and hot blood competed with the stench of burnt meat.

Rubbing his neck, Gavin stepped over the body of Shaun, trying not to step in any of the black and scarlet wet gore splattered across the polished wood tiles. He gently took the automatic pistol out of Gloria’s trembling hand before pushing the woman towards the station entrance. He looked at the gun then at Gloria.

“I took it out of Shaun’s holster. He didn’t even notice. That bastard was going to rape me. They all were.”

She said that without showing a single drop of emotion. Gavin needed to get the woman out of here; the poor sod was running on adrenalin.

The two officers who’d been holding her head both grabbed the edge of the desk and got back on their feet, they both sported bloodied noses. He saw the woman’s red-stained knuckles and grinned. This lady knew how to look after herself.

“She’s mine.”

Andy leaned against the vending machine pointing an automatic pistol straight at Gavin’s head. Oh fuck, he obviously didn’t hit the bastard hard enough. The man then groaned and coughed, dropping his gun arm and grabbing the side of the metal cabinet to stop himself from hitting the floor. Gavin turned around saw the open locker room door and ran for it before Andy’s head cleared enough for him to realize that they were escaping.

He took one last look at Shaun then pushed Gloria into the locker room. That fucker had loaded his weapon with hollow-points. He’d found a Tupperware box full of the things last week whilst searching the house of a well known burglar. The bowl had gone missing two days later. Well, that was one mystery cleared up.

They weren’t safe in here, no way out either. Shit, he should have risked it and ran for the door; he looked at the trembling woman next to him who was preoccupied with picking small lumps of grey jellied matter out of her hair. No, he did the right thing, if he’d have been alone, he would have risked it but he couldn’t, not with Gloria with him. She was a civilian and he had to protect her.

Gavin put her hands against the woman’s shoulders and moved her away from the door. One blast from Andy’s cannon and that door would be in splinters. He figured that the sergeant would have loaded his own gun up with hollow points as well. Gloria’s muttering and sobs were making it hard to listen to what the three remaining officers were saying. He placed his finger against his lips. It was the only way he could think of to convey his wishes. Gavin couldn’t yet talk; he found it hard enough to swallow. Gloria ignored him and continued to mutter. He saw no other choice and slapped the woman’s cheek. Gavin regretted it immediately; everyone knew that Andy beat her, but what else could he have done? Gavin grabbed her shoulders, ignoring her flinching and placed her back where she first stood.

“Shout for Andy,” he croaked.

Gloria shook her head, so Gavin raised his hand, feeling a part of his honour wither and die when the woman flinched and began to sob.

“Do it,”

“Andy!” Gloria screamed.

Gavin quickly placed her against the wall and watched the door handle turn. When the door opened a crack, he grabbed the edge and wrenched it open. Andy fell into the room and Gavin rabbit punched the man and ploughed his boot into Andy’s hand. The pistol skated across the floor and disappeared under the lockers. He grabbed Gloria’s hand, raised his own pistol and ran into the main office. When he saw the two other officers preparing to jump on him he fired the pistol into the ceiling and pulled Gloria towards the entrance.

Chapter Six

Dave managed to sneak a swift glimpse over his shoulder. He was fully aware that the charging footsteps belonging to their pursuers were right behind them and were catching up to them. Dave pushed Amber against the wall, which now blocked the view from their pursuers.

“Come on, Amber, in here!”

“You are joking, right? What if it’s a dead end?”

He shook his head and pulled the girl into a narrow passageway between a bank and a building society. “Don’t worry about it. I promise.” Dave pulled her further into the gloom. He was just hoping that none of the freaks had noticed them slipping in here. He wanted to flatten his back and hoped those freaks would all run past. No, there wasn’t a chance that they’d do that, not the way his luck was running tonight. He looked into the girl’s terrified face, and realized his only good luck tonight had been meeting Amber. Oh fuck, he couldn’t allow anything to happen to her.

He hissed in surprise when she squeezed his hand tight.

“What have you stopped for?” She looked over his shoulders. “Oh no, it is a dead end. What are we going to do now?”

Dave shook his head. “It isn’t, I promise.” He looked at the huge Iron Gate at the end of the passageway, remembering stumbling into this place a few weeks ago. He and Phil had been staggering back towards the main junction when he suddenly decided that if he didn’t piss right there and then, his bladder would explode. Phil had smacked him around the back of his head and pushed Dave into here and told him not to be long. As he had relieved himself, he noticed just how rusty the padlock was and figured that a few good kicks would have destroyed it. Dave had made a mental note of the place, thinking that it would be a decent place to bed down if he had ever been locked out of his house.

As he ran over to the gate, he silently thanked the God of beer that, despite his advanced inebriated state, Dave had made the correct assessment. He didn’t think it would take more than a couple of boots. “Soon find out,” he hissed. Dave slammed his boot hard against the padlock, wincing as the violent noise echoed around the alley. He looked in disbelief, moaning. His kick hadn’t even loosened it.

“Don’t stop, kick the bloody thing again!”

Dave nodded and raised his leg. He stopped when Amber let out a terrified squeak. He whipped his head around and saw a small figure silhouetted at the end of the passageway.

“It’s just a little girl,” Amber whispered. “Maybe she can’t see us. It is fucking dark down here.”

He guessed that the girl was only about seven or eight. Dave wondered how Amber would react if he suggested charging through the passageway and knocking the kid out of the way and taking Amber somewhere safe. He saw no other solution. Dave could hardly start kicking the padlock again, not with her stood there. He wanted to scream with frustration. Why the fuck did he take her down here? He should have lost them in the outskirts of town.

He heard the little girl draw in breath and realized the bitch knew they were down here. When she did start to scream out, her high pitched bellows set his teeth on edge. Amber raced towards the girl. He thought that she was going to do what he intended and slap the brat. She skidded to a halt halfway up the passageway, bent over and picked up something from the ground. Dave watched her run back, wishing that she had slapped the brat; her noise was giving him a headache.

“Move out of the way,” she hissed, pushing Dave against the wall.

Amber had picked up half a brick. Oh for crying out loud, he had seen that on the floor. Why had he not grabbed it? The girl lifted the brick up and smashed it into the padlock. Even from where he stood, Dave saw the lock give a little.

He couldn’t stand her noise any longer; Dave spun around and raced along the passageway, hearing Amber smashing the brick into the padlock again. He reached the little girl and pushed her out into the road. She stopped making that dreadful noise but he saw that it was too late. A small group of men had already stopped.

Dave ran back through the alley, groaning at the sight of Amber hitting that padlock, she was having about as much success as he had. He glanced behind him and groaning again when he saw two large men stood at the front of the passage. They slowly grinned before walking towards them. They both held broken bottles in their hands. Amber smashed the brick into the lock one more time and screamed in triumph when the padlock flew off in two pieces.

The two men growled. They must have thought they had the pair trapped. They broke into a sprint. Amber pushed open the gate, turned, grabbed Dave and shoved him through before following him and shutting the gate.

“A lock, oh thank you!” she cried.

As she slammed the bolt home, one of the men thrust his thick arm through one of the gaps in the gate and wrapped his fingers around Amber’s hair. She screamed out in agony as the man tried to pull her hair through the gap. Dave growled and pried the brick out of Amber’s fingers and slammed it into the man’s other fist that was attempting to pull back the bolt.

Dave gained great satisfaction in hearing the bones in the man’s fingers crunch and grinned like a madman when the bastard screamed out in agony. He watched the man release the bolt and Amber’s hair before staggering back into the crowd of other townsfolk just behind him. He pulled the sobbing girl away from the gate. “Put your back against the wall,” he whispered. Dave flattened his own back against the rough stone and waited.  Within a few seconds, another set of fingers pushed through the gap, Dave waited until those fingers were over the bolt before he smashed the brick into those as well.

“You dirty little bastard!” growled a voice.

He presumed that it belonged to the man, now holding a mangled hand.

“I’m going to rip you apart for that.”

The voice was still cursing him but was now retreating. Dave breathed out, not realising that he’d been holding it. Dave worked up the courage to pull his eyes from that bolt to see where they had ended up. He could hear no more voices or footsteps coming from the passageway, he just hoped that they had gotten the message and had gone looking for any poor fuckers who weren’t armed with half a brick.

They stood at the edge of a disused concrete yard. Judging by the state of the place, he imagined that they were the first humans to have set foot in this yard for a long time. This was now the domain of the local wildlife. Dave took a tentative sniff and found that the faint aroma of cooking meat had gone, another equally unpleasant smell had taken its place, it was the stench of decay.

There were dozens of piles of ripped open black bin bags scattered across the yard, that revolting aroma was emanating from some of those bags. He sighed; this must be one of those forgotten places where some of the restaurants dumped their left over food.

“What do we do now?” Amber jerked her head from side to side, her gaze landing on the tall walls surrounding them. “We’re trapped, aren’t we?”

He stroked the side of her cheek. “We’re not trapped, Amber,” he said, hoping his gentle words would help soothe her anxiety. “You’re looking in the wrong place. Can’t you see that?” he said, pointing to a low wall stretching from one building to another. The yard isn’t fully enclosed.”

“I wonder where it goes.”

He shrugged. “I’ve no idea; then again, it doesn’t really matter. Anywhere will be better than here.” Dave didn’t mention that it was their only route out of here. The townsfolk were sneaking back along the passageway. Fuck, the bastards hadn’t left to find easier prey. Dave put his finger to his mouth and nodded over at the gate. Somebody else bravely pushed a hand through the gap. He counted to five before smashing down the brick.

“Let’s move!” he hissed.

Amber nodded and moved away from the wall. Dave followed the girl, watching her carefully pick her way through the bags, heading towards the low wall. He spun his head at the sound of something slamming into the gate and watched a single finger poke through the gab and retreat just as quickly, Oh no, they weren’t going to give up! Dave turned back and silently urged the girl to pick up her pace. They didn’t have much time left.

He jumped when two rats scurried out of a bag directly in front of his feet. Dave whimpered when he saw that the fuckers were everywhere. Their movement must have disturbed them all. He watched Amber screech to a halt as a huge rat stopped in her path. It looked up at her before running into another split open bag. Dave shook his head in admiration, not believing that she was being so calm about the encounter. He was shitting himself, he fucking hated rats.

“These bags fucking stink,” muttered Amber as she stepped over one in front of her. “I don’t think I want to know what’s inside them.” She reached the low wall and looked over it.

Dave was about to inform her that he believe that the restaurants must have used this yard to dump all their waste when his foot stopped by the bag that she had stepped over. He kicked it out of the way and choked back a scream when a severed hand fell onto his shoe.

“Are you okay?” she cried looking back.

He quickly booted the rotting hand under another bin bag and shook his head. Dave jumped forward and stood between her and the bag, knowing that it probably contained more than just a hand. “It’s nothing,” he replied. “It’s all these rats, I hate the bloody things.” Dave put his hands around her waist and looked over her shoulder and at the sight that greeted him as he gazed over the wall.

Amber tore her eyes away and looked back at him. Dave looked into her fear-filled eyes and wondered if he looked the same to her.

“Dave, what the hell is that stuff down there?”

A slow moving river of dark sludge passed by them, about twenty feet from where they stood. Dave shrugged, not wanting to even guess. It certainly wasn’t water, judging from the rank smell coming from the stuff. Dave looked back at the bags and shuddered. He then noticed dozens of large pipes jutting out along the walls along the narrow corridor. Thick glutinous fluid dripped from some of the outlets, splashing into the sludge below. Dave wasn’t that far wrong with his idea regarding the bags. It looked as if the restaurants had already found another method of disposing their unwanted food. He wondered where it all went.

“Right, I’ll drop down first,” he said. Dave climbed on the wall. He turned and kneeled down.

“I really don’t think this is such a good idea, you know. That stuff stinks. Christ knows what’s in it. We’ll probably end up with a dozen diseases if we go down there.” She looked over the wall. “We don’t even know how deep it is, you could end up going under and drowning.”

Dave had already guessed what was waiting for them down there. He was about to drop into a river of mouldy, rotten pieces of dead things, combined with whatever the fuck was dripping out of those pipes. “I know all that!” he cried. “What choice do we have though?”

Amber whimpered when the alley gate rattled.

“Don’t worry.” He said, just hoping she wasn’t right about the depth. “When I get down, I’ll catch you.” Dave swung his legs over, followed by the rest of his body. He felt the sharp gravel digging into his fingers. Dave took a deep breath just in case and let go.

The drop wasn’t so bad. His feet must have only been a few inches from the surface when Dave released his hands. The vile slop had the consistency of thick mud. Dave watched as his body slowly sank down. The panic grabbed his heart like a steel vice as his waist disappeared. “Oh fuck,” he gasped. “No, I don’t want to go like this.” Dave looked up, into Amber’s terrified eyes. This brief thought of wondering if he’d just seen his last image vanished when his feet touched the floor. The stuff came up to his shoulders. The stench was just unreal; it seemed to have a physical presence.

“Come on, Amber. Do it.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, it’s too far down.” Amber gasped and jerked her head around. “They’ve got through!” she sobbed.

Dave pushed his body through the gelatinous substance, until he was flat against the wall. He heard them running through the bin bags. The girl climbed down, almost losing his grip in the panic. He put his hands around her waist and lowered her in. “Keep your mouth firmly shut.” He whispered.

He slowly moved forward, staying against the wall. None of the ones above had thought to look down here yet. They sounded like they were searching through the bags. “Do you still have Lisa’s money?”

Amber nodded.

“That’s a bloody relief,” Dave hissed. “I’ve got a good idea, do you fancy going to Alton Towers tomorrow?”

Her quiet sobbing receded enough for her to call him crazy. He smiled, thinking that he heard just a tiny bit of humour in her voice, however strained. Dave just wished he had someone to encourage him.

It felt as though they were now moving up, the level moved down to his hips. In the shadows, in front of them, Dave could just about make out the shape of a narrow platform. “We’re nearly there, sweetheart.”

“Found the bastards!”

Two male faces stared down at them. Dave recognised the younger man; it was that miserable barman who’d served them drinks in the club. He bent over, picked up a large plastic bag and held it above his head. The man roared in triumph but before he could throw it, the bag split open and covered him in what looked like lumps of wet dog food. The older man beside the bartender sniggered.

“You fucking moron.” The older man stooped down, picked up a brick and dropped it into the culvert.

Dave pushed the girl and jerked his head forward, crying out as the brick bounced off his back and sank into the sludge. Amber somehow found his hand beneath the stuff. She squeezed and dragged Dave away from the wall. “What are you doing?” he said.

“Look!”

There were some concrete steps just ahead and a door set into the grey wall. He looked up and saw the two men kicking rubbish down, no doubt looking for more bricks. Amber pulled him onto the steps. He didn’t want to think what they’d do if the door was locked. He could still hear the bastards kicking rubbish into the muck behind them. By the sound of it, they were throwing in stuff much larger than bricks now.

“Oh no,” Amber moaned. “They’re following us in.”

He turned his head and saw a dozen of them, lining up along the edge. They were all going to jump. Dave ran up to the door, not daring to look back. He heard the multiple splashes. “What do we do now?” he shouted, staring in frustration at the metal plate covering the door.

He frantically beat his fists against the metal while listening to the multiple splashes behind them. Dave felt the girl’s slime covered arms wrap around his waist. Her sobbing drowned out the excited voices emanating from behind them.

The door shifted in its frame. Dave gasped with relief at the sound of the lock clicking and the door swinging inwards. A pair of hands reached out and pulled them both inside before the door swung shut.

In the dim light, thrown from a dozen candles set in either side of a stone corridor, Dave could just about make out the craggy features of an old man, staring at the pair of them as they stood there shivering. As his eyes got used to the ambience, Dave realised that he knew this man. He’d seen him hanging around the shopping centre in town, asking people for money.

“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” he snapped. “Just who did you expect to be down here? No, don’t bother answering that one. Come on, you had better follow me.” He looked at the girl before turning his attention to Dave. His features softened. “I really am sorry.” The man then spun back around. “Come on!” he snapped.

The man led them out into a huge stone built chamber. Dave stopped in the middle and slowly turned around, gazing in awe at the domed ceiling. This must have been hundreds of years old; it looked like some ancient temple. Dave had never seen anything like it before.

“Oh, I’d better introduce myself. Sorry, I’m not used to company anymore. I’m Jacob. I would say that it’s good to meet a pair of non-locals but, under the circumstances, it would seem somehow a little false.” Jacob wrinkled his nose. “Whoa! I never thought I’d ever say this, but you two smell worse than I do. Let’s see if I can find you some more clothes that don’t have the stench of rot clinging to its fibres.”

Dave took a deep breath and suddenly wished that he’d kept his nose shut. The tramp was right; they both stunk of rotting meat. He pushed back the thought of what they had just waded through to get here.

Amber grabbed Dave’s hand. “Please, can you tell us just what is happening out there, why are they all chasing us?”

Jacob sighed heavily. “Child, I’ve been outmanoeuvred. Look, at the moment, you’re safe. Allow that to comfort you for the present.” He turned and hurried over to a large stone slab, set in the middle of the chamber. “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if the powers had sent me some more colleagues,” he said, dropping to his knees. “I was due some more over two hundred years ago. I guess they decided that the other places took priority over Cerchester. Well, looks like the powers aren’t as infallible as they make out.” He then stared at Dave. “Unless this is all part of their plan as well.”

Dave watched him crawl along the floor until he stopped by the base of the slab.

“I thought so,” he said, picking up a cardboard box and dropping it on the surface. “I knew I had some spares. They’re a little dusty but a lot cleaner than the stuff that you’re wearing.”

He followed Amber towards the box, his swirling mind having difficulty taking any of this in. He then gasped when he heard the sound of smashing wood.

Jacob glanced towards the doorway. “They found a way in! Take the girl and go over there.” He hissed, pointing to an unlit passageway. “Go on, get out of here. I’ll try to join you.”

Dave nodded; he grabbed the box and followed Jacob’s direction, daring not to turn around as he heard the sound of excited shouting getting closer. The girl beside him began to sob again.

“Is this nightmare ever going to end?” Amber cried.

Chapter Seven

Jackie Fairclough’s futile attempt to keep the thick chain clamped to both her legs met with failure. She leaned forward and wrapped her filthy fingers over the corroded links around her ankles whilst she stretched out her cramped legs. Those bitches had yet to turn and shout at Jackie. She knew that her good luck would not last if she were unable to find a more comfortable position.

Ada Fairclough and Betsy Palmer preferred to watch the shopping channel without any distraction. Betsy had made this fact perfectly clear on more than one occasion and each occasion had proved to be very painful for Jackie.  If either of them picked up on Jackie fidgeting, then she’d only get another beating. It wasn’t fair, that nasty old cow was supposed to be going out tonight. Jackie could just about cope with Ada. She was a bitch as well but not quite as bad as the other one. That Betsy was just a downright fucking evil old crone.

That Betsy was supposed to be visiting one of their friends on the other side of town tonight. Jackie had overheard her boasting to Ada that she had been chosen to ‘break in’ another visitor that they had caught in Cerchester. Jackie had felt the marrow inside her bones liquefying when she had heard Betsy utter those awful words. She knew exactly what she had meant; it’s what those two had done to Jackie and her brother James all those months ago.

She stretched her back, feeling the bone in her spine crack. Thanks to those two, she felt as though she’d aged about thirty years since they had captured them. Jackie glared at the back of Betsy’s tatty maroon high seat chair, wishing for the millionth time that she had a long kitchen knife. Just how satisfying would it be to push the blade through that decaying upholstery and feel the gratification of listening to the old bag’s death rattle as the metal entered the woman’s dried up body? Jackie would kill Ada as well but only after she had made sure that Betsy’s nasty life was definitely extinguished.

It was that dirty Betsy who was the main instigator. She was the one who had taken great pleasure in stubbing out her cigarettes on Jackie’s arms, leaving dozens of unsightly circular scars on her wrists and forearms. That dirty bitch had also enjoyed taking a blunt knife to hack off her once beautiful blonde hair. The foul hag took her time with the task, grinning and laughing like a hyena every time Jackie cried out in pain.

She gasped in frustration when her leg quivered and the chain rattled, it sounded deafening. Betsy spun her head around and matched Jackie’s glare with one of her own. “Just how many times do I have to punish you? You’re doing that on purpose. Do you think I’m totally stupid? What do I have to do to keep you quiet?”

The other woman coughed into her hand. “Do you not think you could rein in your silly temper for a few minutes?” she asked, staring at a gobbet of green phlegm sliding down her palm. She wiped the mess on the side of her chair. “Will you please leave that poor girl alone? You’re making more noise that she is. Now, come on. Concentrate. I need you to cast your eyes on that pair of framed pictures. Don’t you think that they are just adorable? They’ll look so lovely hung over the fireplace.”

The chair’s springs groaned in protest as the old woman settled in, into position. How long could that dilapidated antique chair continue to hold the old cow’s weight? For weeks now, Jackie had stared at that hateful piece of furniture, watching the bloody thing degrade day by day. Surely, it couldn’t take much more punishment before it just collapsed. How fantastic would it be to watch the bitch sit in her favourite chair as it crumpled? Then for the wooden legs to splinter, push through the fabric and pierce her black heart. Just like her knife fantasy, the chance of that ever happening was slim to none. Still, stranger things had happened and besides, thinking of ways the fucker would die kept Jackie going, unless of course, that bitch did finally carry out what she kept threatening and murder Jackie.

Oh fuck, why did she have to keep going with that thought? Jackie had just broken her own unspoken rule. She had promised herself weeks ago not to ponder over her mortality, not ever.

Jackie already knew that she and James weren’t the first people to have ended up trapped in the insane women’s house and she wasn’t the first person to have these chains around her ankles.

She choked back a sob when their capture flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down; thinking back to that night would not do her any good. Trouble was, now that her subconscious had vomited up the experience, Jackie just couldn’t let go of the images. She didn’t remember how they had caught them, there was no image of a bunch of insane townsfolk chasing them through the streets or cornering her and James in some alley. She guessed that they had got them from behind and got them nice and quietly.

From what she heard overheard, the fucker had plenty of experience in kidnapping strangers.

They had both woken up with a splitting headache. The first thing that Jackie saw was that their hands and feet were chained together and they were alone in some junk filled room that stunk of decay and stale piss. Whoever had tied them up knew what they were doing; they were both trussed up like oven-ready chickens. After what seemed like a day of hoarse shouting and cursing, her brother had finally quieted down and tried to find some clue as to their whereabouts. He had discovered initials of somebody’s names scratched into a floorboard under a rusted bed. They had found six other names etched into the floorboards before their kidnappers had come for them.

She heard the old bag’s chair creak one more time and tensed up, waiting for the inevitable blast of verbal abuse. Jackie pressed her fingernail hard against her palms when she saw that Betsy was just reaching for her knitting. She had soon learned early on that it was best not to give them any unwarranted trouble. Most of the time, her tactic worked, they usually left her alone.

Her brother had done the opposite; he had fought them all the way. James had refused to bow down to any of their screams and threats. He had just ignored Betsy’s manic screams and when the old bitch had slapped him or hit him with her favourite bat, he had just laughed back at her and spat his blood at the old woman. His defiance and the fact that he’d never stopped looking for way to escape was the reason they had locked him in the cellar.

It had been weeks since she had last seen him. The only clue to if he was even still alive was that every so often, she’d catch one of them leaving the door open to the kitchen and Jackie would hear them putting something on a plate before descending into the cellar.

Not that their actions meant anything; the old fuckers were both as mad as a box of frogs. As far as she knew, her brother could have died weeks ago and they were just going down there to feed the rats. The image of a dozen rats feeding on her brother’s corpse jumped into her mind.

She could feel her hot tears beginning to make yet another unwelcome appearance. What was wrong with her today? Where did all this extra emotion come from? Good God, could she not stop her imagination from getting out of control for just a few minutes? Jackie needed a distraction. She turned away from the back of the chair and gazed at the threadbare carpet beside her chained up ankles. There would be no crying today. It was obvious that Betsy was in one of her moods. If that bitch’s ear caught so much as a whimper escaping from Jackie’s mouth, she would be on her like a ton of bricks. If there was one thing to guarantee a good beating when Betsy was like this, Jackie sobbing like a baby was right at the top of that list.

She waited for her volatile emotions to calm down a little. The old bags were now engrossed in their stupid programme; she decided that it was safe to continue. She slowly pushed back the carpet, revealing a portion of floorboarding. Jackie shuffled forwards whilst holding the chain in both hands. Her movement made the minimum of noise. Jackie picked out the broken needle from between the crack in the floorboards and added one more mark next to the other scratches. She didn’t think that she had lost a single day although it was difficult to tell as all the calendars hung on the walls showed different months. They changed the dates on the calendars every morning, Jackie had no idea why, it was just another one of their strange traits.

The auction for those two framed prints was about to close. Jackie dropped the needle back into her hiding place and lifted her foot, watching the carpet roll back. She needed to be as quiet as a sleeping mouse for the next few moments. The old bags were about to start up their daily argument.

Ada would accuse Betsy of having mothballs in her green purse, or being frugal with their weekly allowance. Calling her wicked and uncaring, because the woman hadn’t purchased those framed prints.

According to her scratching in the wood, these two fucking nutjobs had argued over these prints fifty-four times now. Her tears were springing up again and this time, she didn’t think she’d be able to hold them in. Jackie wanted them both to just fucking die so she could be able to escape from these two vile witches and their crazy habits. Their constant bickering was sending her insane but it wasn’t half as bad as their collection of ancient videotapes that the bitches played one after another. It was always in the same sequence, day in, day out. They had just enough for one day’s viewing.

She leaned to the left and looked through the narrow gap between the bitches’ chairs. Jackie glared at the untidy heap of tapes stacked up against the side of their old television. The tape on the top showed Julie Andrews skipping through a bunch of fields. It took an incredible amount of self-control not to try to pull out her chains and strangle the old bastards before they had chance to push that video into their machine.

Ada would clap and laugh, gushing at the sight of the VonTrap kids as they first came down the stairs and saying that Julie Andrews was so beautiful. Betsy would reply by calling her a filthy whore.

Of all the crappy videos that the bitches watched, Jackie hated The Sound of Music the least. The two fuck-ups usually left her alone while this one played. They also fed her as the end credits rolled. Just like everything else in their choreographed existence, the meal never altered from one day to the next. They gave her the same cracked blue plastic plate with a cold portion of baked beans, a slice of dry bread, a small lump of cheddar cheese and half an apple. Still, at least they did feed her and never forgot.

Jackie listened to the pair baiting each other, following their usual routine of insults, trying to judge whether Betsy’s bad mood had lifted a little. She really did hope that it had, the last time the bitch had been this cranky, Betsy had given Jackie half a wax apple and made her eat it.

Oh God, just what she would do to taste just one slice of hot pizza or meatballs and mash or even a bag of chips, with scraps and covered in salt and vinegar. The chance of those two fuckers giving her anything different was about as likely as Betsy pushing in the wrong video or the nasty bitch’s chair collapsing. Jackie let out a quiet sob. No matter how hard she tried to keep it in, she just couldn’t help herself.

“You just make one more noise, little miss,” snarled the voice from the chair in front of Jackie. “Go on, I dare you, and you’ll soon see what you’ll get.”

She stuck her tongue out and took a deep breath. Thinking back, a pizza had been the main reason why she and James had ended up in this despicable house with only the two insane zombies for company.  They had both been celebrating the fact that they had managed to make it through the final year at university with degrees to their names.

Jackie had wanted to enjoy their unexpected success with inviting all their mates to Blackpool and having a huge piss up. Not James though, oh no, he had suggested otherwise. For some stupid fucking reason, he wanted to go on some hiking trip, just the pair of them.

She had no idea how James had managed to convince her to go with his idea but she was glad that he had. Jackie had never admitted it to James but she had thoroughly enjoyed the adventure.

A small town called Eastmore was to be their last stop before heading home. They’d rung ahead and booked a room above a pub. Their changing moment occurred when Jackie spotted a signpost stating that the next town, Cerchester, was only one mile in the next direction. Eastmoor was still eight miles distant. For her rumbling stomach, that seemed like a lifetime away. She persuaded James that it really was in their best interests to take a small detour. It seemed like such a good idea at the time, they could have stopped off at the town, got a pizza before making their way to the room for their final sleep.

Jackie sobbed again.

The old women jumped up and squeezed her thin body between the two chairs. “What the heck did I just tell you?” She screamed. “This is why you haven’t got your stupid pictures.” Betsy turned her head. “It’s her again; the little cow is distracting me.” Betsy grabbed Jackie’s forearm. “You’re doing it on purpose, dirty little tart that you are. I’m not senile, you know.”

The girl tried to snatch her arm back, she didn’t care how much her struggling would piss off the old bag, and Jackie couldn’t let Betsy burn her arm again.

“Will you leave her alone, dear?” The other woman leaned around. “Come on, The Sound of Music is about to start, Betsy. You’ve been waiting for this all day.”

The fury in the old woman’s eyes died.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

Jackie nodded.

“Well, I’m holding you to that promise. Any more noise from you and I’ll put this fag out on your eyeball.”

Betsy sat back down, chatting away to Ada, acting as if nothing had happened. Both women immediately stopped their chatter and slowly stood up, looking towards the window. Jackie could see movement outside. Oh Jesus, she prayed that it was the police. The doorbell rang twice.

“Who could that be?” Ada muttered. “This is so inconvenient.”

Betsy glared at the girl behind the chair. “I don’t know. Why do you always ask me stupid questions? What time is it?” The old woman turned around and helped Ada up.

“It’s just past nine, Betsy.”

It was always just past nine, the hands on all eight clocks hadn’t moved since they chained her in this room. Jackie used the distraction to make herself a little more comfortable, watching them both leaving the room and shutting the door behind them.

Betsy had dropped her pen. It had fallen off the side of her armchair when she had stood up. Jackie crawled over and grabbed it. She held it tight in her hand before bursting into tears. What the fuck was she going to do with this?

Jackie saw herself wrapping her arms around Betsy’s scrawny neck, pressing the point against her skin and ordering Ada to let Jackie go free. The whole idea was just ridiculous. They were both as mad as hatters. They wouldn’t listen to her.

The front door opened, Jackie heard the sound of male voices, and her heart began to race. Maybe it was the police. She got to her feet and lurched forward as far as the chains would allow, hoping to see a police car parked outside. There were two cars parked in front of the bitches’ front garden, neither of them were police cars. Crying out would be a futile gesture. The saloon belonged to some local shopkeeper; he already knew that they’d chained her up behind their chairs.

Jackie heard the cellar door creaking open, muffled voices filtered through the door. One of those raised voices belonged to Betsy; Jackie had heard enough of her noise to know when she was annoyed. This was different; the bitch was on the verge of hysteria. The sound of flesh hitting flesh silenced her voice. Had someone just slapped her?

“We’ll only have one left.”

Jackie listened to Ada repeat her last statement before the unmistakeable sound of her groaning brother reached her ears. “James!” Jackie ran towards the door, stumbling when her chains snapped taut. “Leave him alone.” The bastards were taking him away.

The door slammed open and Ada rushed over, she dropped to her knees and pressed her hand against Jackie’s mouth. “Hush, child. Don’t even think of making a sound.” The woman glanced towards the open door.

Jackie heard the sound of laughter.

“Anton and Daniel wanted to take you as well.” She gently tapped her swollen eye. “This is my reward for opening my mouth and sticking up for you.” Ada then dropped a small key into the girl’s hand then closed her fingers over it. “Wait until we go to bed then leave us. Your brother has gone but there’s still time to save yourself.”

Chapter Eight

It seemed to Gavin that the woman was too concerned over a few spots of greasy black oil splattered over her dress and shoes than actually doing what he asked. He peered over the car bonnet and scowled at her. “For crying out loud, Gloria, will you please keep an eye out for me?”

“What do you think I have been doing? Bloody hell,” she hissed. “I only looked away for a couple of seconds. Give me some credit. Don’t treat me like a child, Gavin. Do you seriously think that I want to meet up with those bastards again? It wasn’t you that they tried to rape.”

Gavin looked away from her accusing eyes, wishing that he had just kept his mouth closed. He returned to the task of trying to get this door open, wondering why the woman constantly tried to make him feel so incompetent. He hadn’t expected her to throw herself at his feet and thank him for saving her life; he had known the woman long enough to know that her brain wasn’t wired like that. A simple thank you would have been nice though.

Maybe it was the simple fact that that woman had spent her entire life as a wife being ridiculed herself, and any attempt to show concern just made her annoyed and perhaps a bit fearful.

“I’m cold,” she moaned. “How long are you going to be?”

“Will you be quiet!” he hissed. What the hell, maybe the silly woman would respond better to an abrupt and offensive attitude. It’s how every other male treated her. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to concentrate?”

“Do you even know what you are doing, Gavin? Whatever it is, you don’t appear to be having much success.” She patted the car’s bonnet. “Why have you chosen this rusted up old heap anyway? There are lots of newer cars further down the forecourt.”

Gavin looked up at Gloria, trying to work out if she was serious. By the look she gave him back, she honestly had no idea why he had chosen this car. He began to wonder if he had made the correct decision in bringing her. He then felt guilty for even thinking of such a degraded thought.

“This is just so wrong,” she muttered. “Jeffery Dunn would probably go spare if he saw us skulking around his second-hand car dealership.”

“Sweetheart,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Jeffery Dunn has probably turned into a freaky sadist, just like your loving husband. As for what I am doing, you wouldn’t understand. Just keep a bloody eye out and for the love of God, will you please stop talking?”

Gavin gripped the nail file tight and pushed it back into the lock. He thought of the Dog and Gun, his favourite local in Eastmere. He couldn’t wait to get back there and taste their ales again. He smiled to himself. With some luck, he might even be able to get there tonight, after he’d filed his report. This was a job for the big boys, he didn’t know what the hell had happened here but he no longer wished to have any part in it. Gavin nodded, now that was something to look forward to. He tuned out the woman’s voice, not believing that she still hadn’t shut up.

This bastard was taking too long. It had been years since he’d tried to break into a car, he had obviously lost the knack. The last time he had done this, Gavin had been just a teenager, on the other side of the law. The only reason why he had gone for this battered old thing was that he thought he’d have a better chance of getting into the bloody thing. It was a mystery why the owner would have this heap on the forecourt in the first place. It stuck out like a sore thumb. All his other cars at least looked sellable; this thing hadn’t even been washed.

He then heard the familiar sound of the lock disengaging. He smiled and slowly opened the driver’s door. “You haven’t lost the knack after all,” he muttered. Gavin climbed in and reached across to open the door for Gloria hoping that after all this effort, the car would start up.

“Look at that,” she whispered. “Those hooligans have lit yet another fire. What do they think they are playing at? It’s not November fifth, is it?  I so hope that they haven’t set some poor woman’s house on fire or somebody’s car.” She climbed inside and stared at him. “I think you had better take me home, Gavin, just in case.”

“We have already discussed this, Gloria. We are leaving town and getting help. I’m not going to take you home.” He stared into her confused eyes. “Do you really want to be in that house, all alone when Andy and his mates walk in?”

She slowly shook her head.

“As for what they are burning, just take a wild guess, honey. Houses and cars don’t smell of cooking meat, do they? They are setting people on fire, Gloria. If they catch us, we’ll go the same way.”

Gavin reached into his pocket and pulled out a police radio. “Here,” he said, handing it over. “I lifted this from your husband. I think it will come in handy, you know, to find out what they are really up to.”

Why did he have to go and do a stupid thing like that? The woman didn’t need to know what those freaks were burning down in the centre of town. Then again, maybe she did. It was about time she pulled herself out of her denial and faced reality. Gavin watched her fingers nervously play with the frequency button on the left side. He didn’t believe this. After all those years working for the force and she didn’t know how to operate a radio?

So far, the radio hadn’t revealed that much information, apart from a crackled report about what those mad bastards were actually burning in the carpark. Gavin had turned the volume down to its lowest setting while they had been hiding from that roaming band of locals after escaping from the police station. That had been the only time when the radio had sprang to life, when the pair had been crouching behind that privet hedge.

“Gloria, what are you doing? The volume control is on the other side. You’ll have to turn it up.”

He took his eyes off the woman and peered through the windscreen, despite his earlier thought of wanting to get out of this town, he still wondered if he was doing the right thing in leaving. He had been sent here to protect this town. Leaving it made Gavin feel like a rat deserting a sinking ship. He sighed. Of course this was the right decision, and he couldn’t exactly protect the people when they all wanted to kill him. Driving out was the only solution available.

Gavin dug his phone out of his other pocket. There was still no connection or signal. The bloody thing was dead. What else did he expect though? Gavin had already checked his phone countless times since their escape. Somebody certainly knew how to isolate the town, to throw the place back into the 20th century. They must have disabled all the transmitters. Not a hard task really, considering every network had bolted their equipment to the old brickwork’s chimney. It was the only building tall enough to get a signal out of the valley.

“What are you doing now? Wait, don’t tell me that you are able to start a car with your phone, Gavin.”

He showed her the screwdriver that he had picked up off the garage floor a few minutes ago. “No, of course not, this is my key,” he replied, grinning. “It should only take me a few minutes to get this old thing going. Don’t worry, Gloria, this is one trick that I do know.”

Gloria opened the glovebox, she rummaged around the inside, muttering to herself. The woman then giggled and pulled down the sun visor. “I thought so. Here you go,” she said, handing him a set of keys. “Andy keeps a spare in the exact place. I guessed Jeffery would do the same.”

Some copper he was turning out to be. Gavin didn’t even think of checking all the usual places for a spare set. Then again, who would be stupid enough to leave a set of keys inside a car that was up for sale in the first place? Unless it wasn’t for sale. Gavin peered through the windscreen, all the other cars in the forecourt had for sale signs stuck to the glass. Gavin pushed the keys into the ignition and turned, grinning when the car started up the first time.

“Oh bugger, I’m such a ditz,” muttered the woman. She turned to look at Gavin. “I don’t believe that I’ve done that.” Gloria threw the radio onto his lap and reached for the door handle. “I’ve left my handbag out there, on the floor.” She opened the door and climbed out. “I won’t be a moment, Gavin. Don’t you dare go without me.”

The woman ran over to the next car, bent over and picked her bag off the floor. He wondered what he needed to do for this silly woman to take their situation seriously. Gavin was about to ask her to hurry up when the words died on his lips at the sight of a shadow moving towards her.

Gavin pushed open his door, jumped out of the car, and ran around the front. He pushed her out of the way, just as some screeching thing fell from the garage roof. Gavin watched in complete shock as an old woman, wearing a thin cotton nightdress landed on the roof of a car. She scurried across it before launching herself at him. He raised his arms to ward off this nightmarish hag but she easily pushed through his defence and managed to rake her fingernails down his cheek. Gavin cried out, not expecting her to hurt him.

The pain tore away the blanket of disbelief. “You dirty fucking bitch!” he screamed. Without thinking, he swung his arm back and slammed his fist into her face, growling in satisfaction at the feel of her nose breaking. “Get back into the car!” His punch hadn’t even fazed her. “Not possible,” he muttered. “That should have knocked you into next week.”

She just laughed, wiped her hand across her damaged face before springing at Gavin like a pouncing cat. He staggered back, under her weight. He fell, slamming his back into the hard concrete floor with the screaming woman still on top of him, spitting blood over his face and trying to bite off his nose. Gavin brought his arms up and grabbed the woman’s dangling breasts; he gritted his teeth and jerked his arms up, watching the woman fly backwards into the side of a Ford Focus.

Gavin rolled away from the snarling banshee trying not to throw up at the taste of her blood in his mouth. He saw a wheel brace by the tyre of a Mercedes and reached out to grab it. He rolled onto his back, watching the woman crawl towards him. Gavin swung the wheel brace in an arc, wincing as the metal cracked into the side of the woman’s head.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, watching thick blood gush from her head. “What have I just done?”

“Will you get in the car!” shouted Gloria.

He backed away, watching the crumpled heap beside him slowly push her body off the tarmac. “This is insane.” She lifted her head. Gavin saw her glazed eyes clear when she saw him in front of her. A low growl echoed at the back of her throat. Gavin shot up and raced over to the car. He threw himself inside and locked the door. He put the car into gear and drove out of the forecourt, watching that crazed woman through the rear-view mirror.

“Gavin, have you any idea who that woman was?”

He glanced at Gloria and saw that she was shaking like a leaf. He then saw that he was too. Gavin gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I’m guessing some escaped lunatic. No, I don’t have a bloody clue.”

She took a deep ragged breath. “It took me a while to place her face, Gavin. You’re the one who dealt with her complaint last Monday when she same into the station, saying that a bunch of kids had smashed all her downstairs windows.”

Gavin slowed down and turned off the high street, heading for the outskirts of the town. He did remember some distraught old lady popping into the station. It just could be the same woman, could it? “That thing back there was Mrs Bailey?”

The woman beside him slowly nodded. He saw tears running down her cheeks. “It’s all true, isn’t it? Everyone in this crazy town has gone insane.”

Gavin hated himself for thinking this but he was so glad that at least something had managed to break through that stubborn shell of hers. He then noticed movement and looked into his rear-view mirror. That woman was still behind them.

It still took an incredible amount of imagination to compare that thing behind them to that poor distraught woman who had sat down in front of his desk last week. He remembered the incident very well, how could he not? She had been the first person to enter his station since he had arrived. He had done everything to help her once he had ordered one of the officers to drive the woman home.

He had relished the whole encounter; it was such a change to actually investigate a crime, instead of sitting at his desk, watching the others scowl at him all day long. It had taken him a few days but he had got to the bottom of the incident. It turned out that the kids had also stolen her dog and killed the poor thing. Gavin had found it hanging from a lamppost a couple of days later. He’d kept the discovery to himself and buried the dog’s body in the local woods a few hours later. Gavin figured that the news would have given the poor dear a heart attack.

“Gavin, I’m so sorry for doubting you.” She gave him a single, tight smile. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Gloria smiled fully. “I can’t remember the last time anyone was ever nice to me.” She looked out the side window. “Just how far is Eastmere?”

“You mean that you don’t know?” he asked.

She shook her head. “This is going to sound really strange, but I have never left Cerchester in all the years that me and Andy have been together. For a start, he wouldn’t let me. Looking back though, Gavin, I’ve never really felt the urge to leave town either, despite my husband and all his nasty mates treating me like a slave.” She barked out a distraught laugh. “All this craziness must be infectious. I’ll be the one leaping off garage roofs next.”

Gavin stayed silent, he had only been in the town for a few months but he knew exactly what the woman meant. He hadn’t crossed the town’s boundary either. Even on the seldom days he had off, he had stayed in town. Considering he hated this bloody place, this sort of behaviour seemed more than weird.

“I’m not sure exactly how far the town is from here,” he said, frowning. That was strange, how could he have forgotten? “I think that it’s about ten miles. It shouldn’t take us that long to get there, Gloria. You’ll be safe soon. I don’t have a clue what is going on in Cerchester but I do intend to find out.”

“Oh no,” moaned Gloria. “Do you mean that you intend to come back here? But, that’s just crazy, Gavin, they’ll kill you!”

He watched the headlights pick out the white line in the middle of the road and realised that he intended to come back here. Maybe he was crazy, too. It made no sense as to why he would come back here but he knew he wasn’t going to leave just yet. It seemed that this town would not take her claws out of his side.

“I’m sorry, Gloria, but I don’t have any choice,” he replied. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll be doing this alone. Eastmere’s finest officers will be with me.” He hoped his words would calm her down. “This is my job, I can’t just drop it.”

The headlights picked out another car parked by the edge of the road.

“That’s Andy’s car!”

Gavin slammed the brakes on.

“What the hell are you doing? Speed up.”

“I can’t, they’ve slid stingers across the road.” He looked in the mirror and moaned when he saw two men jump out of the bushes and throw another stinger across the road behind them.

“I’ve let you down, Gloria.” He whispered, watching three men run towards the car. “I’m sorry.”

Gavin opened the door and stepped out. Cooper pulled the gun out of the man’s pocket. Andy nodded at Gavin before picking up his radio. “Okay, boss. We have them.”

Two men removed the stingers as another car approached and stopped behind the car that Gavin had taken. A large man slowly climbed out of the driver’s side. Gavin had seen him around town a few times before but, like Gavin, he didn’t think he was a local.

“Daniel.” Andy said. “You see, I told you that we’d get them back. I know they shouldn’t have escaped in the first place but no harm’s been done.”

The man glared at Gavin then sighed. “Yes Andy. I do remember listening to your panicked address over the radio. Now, can you please explain to me why they are still breathing?”

Andy’s triumphant grin slipped from his face. “But, she’s my wife!”

Daniel sighed again. He reached into the pocket of his leather overcoat and pulled out an automatic pistol. “I am aware of that, Andy. What use is she though? She is a wife that has given you no offspring. The woman is barren. When we expand into the next town, I’ll let you pick as many women as you can fuck in a single night.” He walked up to Andy and dropped the gun into the man’s hand.

Andy shrugged. “It seems like a fair deal.”

Gloria struggled with the man holding her. “You can’t do this, Andy! I lov…”

Andy’s attention flickered for a moment when another woman’s shrieks drowned out Gloria’s pleas.

The man holding Gavin chuckled. “There you go, Andy. It looks like your new wife has already found you.”

The old woman turned direction at the sound of the man’s voice; she growled and jumped on him. Gavin rolled away as the man released his grip. He watched Andy run over to help. Gloria then swivelled around and head butted her astonished captor in the face.

Gavin dived on the sergeant and wrestled the gun out of his hand. Andy suddenly stopped when Gloria screamed out his name. As he turned, his wife launched her foot into his groin.

“There’s nothing wrong with my insides, you fucking eunuch!”

Gavin shoved the weeping man out of the way and grabbed Gloria.

“They’re getting away!” Daniel screamed.

Gavin’s head jerked up. He saw the stranger’s face start to crack open like sun-baked mud. He could see the others were beginning to stir. Suddenly a shot rang out and the old woman fell to the ground. He had no other choice. Without waiting to see if he would be next, Gavin pulled Gloria into the bushes at the side of the road and forced his way through them. As they followed, Gavin fired a single shot in their general direction, listening to them run back to their cars.

“I know where we are,” Gloria whispered.

He pushed through the foliage and joined the woman, standing at the top of a steep embankment.

“There’s a tunnel down there,” she said, pointing into the darkness. “Believe me, Gavin, they won’t follow us in.”

Chapter Nine

Angus Hardy held the struggling fly between his thumb and forefinger. He watched it trying to free its legs before pulling off the wings and dropping it into the web. The precaution of nipping off the wings was a sound move; Angus had no wish to see it doing something stupid like flying away.

“Come on, you,” he whispered. “Can’t you sense its terror? Your dinner has arrived.” Did insects even have emotions? No, that was just dumb, of course they didn’t.

The spider took one tentative step onto the threads. Angus nodded in approval. “Come on, big guy. I reckon you’ll enjoy this one. Look at the size of its body!”

He had named the spider Daniel. At the time, he thought the name was rather apt. Both the spider and his new boss had appeared on the scene at about the same time, they were both predators and both took great pleasure in sucking their victims dry. Angus never actually thought that he’d miss his old boss.

The spider rushed across the web and started to wrap the fly up. Within seconds, the spider’s silk completely covered the fly’s body. “I sure hope you enjoy your feast, Daniel. There are plenty more insects where that came from. I wonder how big I can get you.” Angus gazed around the room, wondering if Daniel could eat a woodlouse. There were loads of those in here. He glanced at the monitor banks. As per usual, everything was quiet.

Ever since the other Daniel had gained control of the company, Abacus Foods had yet to experience another break in. That hadn’t been the only change either. Of course, the other workers, especially the assembly drones, would notice anything amiss. That fact stood to reason. Most of those cow-brained fools had major problems in remembering what year it was.

Angus smiled to himself. He was no fool, unlike those dumb bastards; he had a muscle between his ears that still worked. Not that’d he’d tell anybody what he had witnessed during these last few weeks. Now that would be asking for trouble.

Oliver Campbell disappeared for asking lots of uncomfortable questions. The company’s sales director wasn’t really a bad bloke. He did consider himself to be above everyone else, and then again, so did Angus. Oliver was a bit smarmy and he didn’t like Angus. Even so, he certainly didn’t deserve having his body minced and ending up in a batch of Abacus Food ready meals.

He’d witnessed the whole gruesome procedure with his own private video feeds. Angus had installed the private security system throughout the whole building a few years ago.

Even after all this time, Angus still had trouble believing his good fortune in stumbling upon this seemingly forgotten town. When whispers of a town hidden in plain sight where the locals conducted every depraved act imaginable reached Angus’s ears, he was ready to dismiss the notion of a ‘bad’ town and consign it into the urban myths bin. Angus had heard about these places before and none of them had proven to be correct. He was so glad that he’d gone against his better judgement and taken the time to investigate this one.

To any passing stranger, Cerchester did, at least on the surface, look like just another grubby town stuck in the middle of the English countryside. Yet, to his eye, trained in the art of observation, Angus saw the signs almost immediately, from the poorly hidden bruising on dozens of faces to the furtive glances aimed at the strangers in the town. Angus could easily separate the ones that didn’t belong in Cerchester from the local population. They stuck out like a sore thumb. He had felt the suppressed hostility from every local as he’d slowly walked down the main high street. It made his blood sing; he finally felt as though he’d found his home.

The town’s oppressive atmosphere threatened to smother everyone and everything. It felt just incredible.  He just knew that every local in this shitty place hid some sort of sordid and disgusting story and Angus would take great pleasure in teasing out his or her dirty little secrets.

The retired couple, who lived next door to Angus, were typical Cerchester locals. The two women easily fit into the stereotypical idea of how a pair of dotty old ladies should behave. At first, their behaviour towards him emulated the rest of them but, after a year, their cold shell showed signs of cracking. Now, they went out of their way to give him a cheery wave every morning before he set off for work. They even gave him a full cake last week, as thanks for volunteering to cut their front lawn. Of course, he hadn’t eaten any of it; fuck knows what those mad old bitches had put into the mixture. Knowing what he knew about them, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find ground glass or some toxic kitchen chemical.

Just like the rest of the freaks, their smiling faces were just a thin coating, hastily slapped over the faces of two evil old harridans. These two got their kicks out of kidnapping any stranger stupid enough to pass through this dark place. Looking back, it surprised him that he hadn’t ended up in their company when he first came to visit.

The pair had two hikers right now. A boy locked up in the cellar and a very pretty girl, chained up in their room, behind their chairs. From his previous observations, Angus knew that the lad’s lifeline was hanging by a frayed thread. The girl had maybe another month or so, until she ended up buried in a landfill site, a lot sooner if they find another replacement.

That moment of discovering just what his neighbours got up to behind the safety of their closed doors would never leave him. He’d been trying to sneak cameras into their house for years, an impossible task considering they never left the house unattended. There was always one of them in there.

His opportune moment came just a few months ago when the more insane old hag was rushed into hospital; he couldn’t stop grinning as the ambulance carried off both women, leaving the house, for the first time, devoid of old bags. It took him just twenty minutes to install his equipment and get out of their house. He could have done the deed in just five but had to slow down to take in the atmosphere and to investigate items not usually found in a house belonging to pensioners. Chains in the cellar were a bit of a giveaway, as well as the bottle of chloroform, hidden away under the kitchen sink.

The old bloodstains and the scratches he had found on their bedroom floorboards gave him the best clue. The evil fuckers must have held plenty of people captive in this house.

As he left their house, Angus had hoped that he hadn’t just uncovered old crimes and the women still practised their deviations. His answer came about a month after they returned from hospital.

Angus made it ritual to check his video feeds every morning. The routine took a good hour so; he always got up with the birds. Usually, he spent most of the time skipping through the previous night’s recordings and getting more and more annoyed at finding little in the way of entertaining footage.

Since moving into this neighbourhood, five years ago, Angus had managed to sneak cameras into eight houses around his own home. Despite having eight families to watch, most of the feeds failed to satisfy his need for physical and mental depravity. The families sure weren’t angelic, but apart from witnessing the occasional slap and maybe the odd perverted act of sex, he thought his neighbours were rather boring.

Of course, his real problem stemmed from the fact that he’d expected more than his neighbours had shown him. He had expected wall to wall blood, guts, gore and lumps of flying human flesh on a nightly basis. He should have realised that this town must operate on a gradient, that not all the freaks in Cerchester could be fucking sociopaths. There had to be a few townsfolk who were just mildly psychotic.

Angus giggled at that, as if anyone could be mildly psychotic. He then caught his reflection in the mirror. “Except for you perhaps?”

He discovered, to his absolute delight, that the old women were the exception. The mental fruitbats made his neighbours look like angels. Their behaviour, although it was just vile, wasn’t the worst he’d seen. Perhaps their inscrutable facade fascinated him. Even in this town of masks, he always thought that he could pick out the bad ones without any trouble. Yet, these two dear old ladies had him completely fooled.

Watching the two women undergo their Jekyll and Hyde routine in an instant was a most divine experience. He sighed with happiness, especially when they directed all that hatred and violence at that lovely looking teenage girl. The look on her terrified face when they their raging expressions suddenly swapped to benevolence, made his loins tingle.

Angus couldn’t wait to get back home. He now had over eight hours of footage to go through. He just knew they would have abused and hurt that girl while he’d been working. He’d have plenty of masturbatory material to keep him busy until he dropped off to sleep.

He wondered how long it would take before the woman finally got bored of her. It only took them a couple of weeks before they got rid of their last captive. Although, to be fair, he was just an old man, probably not much younger than the psychotic women. Watching him piss his underpants as they stubbed out their cigarettes on his legs wasn’t really all that exciting for Angus. Hell, wanking over that image, now that was fucking weird.

One of the lights on his panel blinked just once. He turned and glared at the LED, daring that fucker to do that again. Angus sighed as the light flashed again, this time staying lit. “Oh just great,” he muttered, staring at the red light. Someone or something must have tripped one of the perimeter sensors. It was probably another fucking squirrel; those little bastards just would not stay away.

Angus gazed in longing at the plastic Tupperware box, containing his packed lunch. This was so annoying; it was almost time for him to tuck into his sandwiches. It had to be just an animal; none of the locals would dare venture anywhere close to the factory. This so wasn’t fair, Angus had no desire to leave his warm and cosy room; it was bloody freezing out there. Even so, the cameras didn’t cover that area so he knew he should just take a peek.

He had made himself banana and crisp sandwiches as well. Angus then sat up straight, staring open mouthed as one of the monitors showed him a couple of figures, standing behind the chain-link fence. “You have got to me kidding me,” he muttered. One of them carried a rolled up package under their arm. Angus watched the figure drop it onto the grass. “It’s a piece of bloody carpet!” Oh, this was just too much to take in. They really were going to try to get inside.

The figure then threw the carpet up, it landed across the top of the fence, covering the razor wire. This sort of thing had never happened since the old man took over.

“The locals had been warned off.”

They had to be strangers, animal rights activists or something like that. Oh hell, this was so exciting. Angus had strict instructions on what to do if this situation ever did arise. Angus’s eyes rested on the locked steel cupboard, bolted to the wall at the far end of the room.

Both the figures had scaled the fence and had dropped into the carpark. He watched them running across the forecourt. Angus felt a grin spread across his face, his heartbeat increased as he thought of that cupboard’s contents. He’d been looking forward to something like this to happen for a long time. The cupboard contained a short barrelled shotgun and a box of shells. He just needed the authorisation code so he could get that fucking door open.

Angus unclipped the mobile phone from his belt and nervously punched in Daniel’s private number. It took him three attempts to get the number in correctly, his fat fingers didn’t help nor did the fact that he couldn’t stop shaking with excitement. “Come on, old man,” he muttered. “Calm it down and get a grip on yourself.”

“Hello there, my most favourite security guard,” answered the voice. “Are we having a fun night? Is everything still nice and peaceful at the factory?”

Did he hear a hint of amusement in his boss’s voice? His mum raised no fools. Angus knew something here wasn’t quite right, his tone sent a dozen warning bells ringing inside his head. “Daniel, I’m sorry for ringing you up at this time but someone has broken into the factory.”

Angus saw that they had now managed to smash their way into the main reception area. There was nothing sneaky about their intrusion; they just didn’t seem to care. That bothered him more than anything so far. The smaller figure left the other one, wandered over to the main check-in desk, and took off the black balaclava. Angus felt his mouth dry up as he saw her angelic face and the girl’s fine blonde hair fall down past her shoulders. This girl was absolutely fucking gorgeous.

“So, I suppose, because of your little dilemma, you want me to give you the code of the cupboard?”

Angus found himself nodding vigorously. “Oh, yes please, sir,” he replied. He decided to kill the big one first. That would free up his time to have some serious fun with that pretty girl. He’d show all the local freaks that you didn’t need to be born in this shitty town to possess some extreme psychotic traits. He could always blast the bitch a few hours from now, unless he hadn’t already fucked her to death.

The sound of an electronic lock disengaging reached Angus’s ears, but it wasn’t from the gun cupboard. He spun around and saw his door unlocked.

“Angus, do you really think that I’d allow a depraved person like you access to my shotgun? I don’t want you to hurt any of my children.” The voice chuckled. “This is so exciting, Angus. I so wish I could see your face right now. Unlike you though, I’ve never been a fan of voyeurism.”

“What the fuck?” Angus looked at the monitors and saw that the other figure had now taken off the balaclava. Oh no, he knew that face. It belonged to one of the gorillas who worked on the assembly line. Angus felt his bowels loosen when the huge lad tapped one of the security cameras with a thin bladed knife.

He listened to his boss laughing before he threw the phone against the wall. “Fuck you!” he shouted, running over to the door. He opened it, peeked out and saw the girl slowly walking towards his room. Angus yelped, slammed the door shut and raced over to the other side of the room. As he ran past the monitors, he saw Phil was running towards his room. He dived under the desk, finding that he couldn’t stop shaking. It wasn’t from excitement, this time, it was from fear. That Phil was a right evil bastard. He really was a bad one.

Angus softly moaned as his door slowly opened. Oh fuck, this couldn’t really be happening. What the fuck was his boss playing at? He glanced over at the smashed phone, it’s not as if he could fucking ask him now. It was bloody obvious though that Daniel didn’t need Angus to tell him that these two were inside his factory.

“Hey there, fat man!” shouted Phil. “Come out of there, you slimy fuckstick. You have something that we want from you.”

“Oh god, come on, Phil, do we have to do this one?” asked the girl. “Why can’t we find a skinnier one?”

Angus watched the boy shake his head. “Poppet, we have already been through this. It’s got to be him and you know that. We both heard what Daniel said. Now, come on, Lisa, let’s get to work.

The girl let out a long breath and muttered something under her breath. She kissed Phil then walked over to his hiding place. Angus slid further back until his body was pressed up hard against the wood. He so wished the wall would just open up and swallow him. The girl crouched down in front of Angus.

“I so need you, Angus,” she whispered. “I desire you.” Lisa held her forefinger up and ran her tongue along the digit. She then ran the finger up her thigh, “Ah yes,” moaned Lisa. “That feels so good. Angus, there’s something of yours that I want to lick and suck.” She smiled and held out both her hands. “Come on, big fellow, don’t you want to make me happy? Come on, sweetheart, climb out of there and let’s play.”

Angus was so confused. He watched her push that finger between her lips. Had he read their actions all wrong? She reached under the desk and rested her hand on his crotch.

“Oh my, that feels big.”

Angus gasped and her hand gently squeezed his thick shaft. She grabbed both his wrists and helped him out then guided him over to his worktable. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil had helped himself to his sandwiches. Lisa placed both her hands on his cheeks and kissed him, forcing her tongue into his mouth.

She pulled away and giggled, “Oh my, you’ve done that before, haven’t you! Right, I need you to climb on your table and lie down, Angus. You’re so going to love this,” she said, giggling again.

“Wait, what about him, is he just going to watch us?”

Lisa shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

Angus shook his head and winked at Phil, noticing that he’d emptied his lunch box. “Hell no, it doesn’t bother me at all.” Angus complied with the girl’s request and lay down on the hard surface, feeling a pencil dig into his back.

Phil walked over to the desk and looked down at Angus. He winked back. “I’m guessing you like it kinky.”

The girl started to unbuckle his trousers. “Well, would you look at that bulge, Phil? The old man really is packing a monster in here. It’s almost as big as yours.” She unzipped his fly and sighed. “That is very impressive,” she whispered licking her lips.

“Oh Jesus,” cried Angus.

“Okay, you’d better do your stuff, Phil before I get too carried away.”

Phil dangled a length of wire above the man’s head. “Lisa, why don’t you show the man what you have under your robe.”

The girl nodded. As the robe fell to the floor, Angus gasped. She had sewn dozens of tiny bones into her skin.

“Do you not think that I look very pretty?” she asked, running her fingers down the front of her body. “You have no idea how good it was to hear those other people cry out just before we took out a piece of them.” She licked her lips. “I cried out too when Phil pushed these bones through my skin.” Lisa groaned out. “Oh, but it wasn’t pain that made me cry out.”

Phil pressed the wire across the man’s neck.

Lisa showed him the thin bladed knife. “I’m going to use this to remove one of your ribs, fat man.” She pushed the blade into his gut. “You can scream, if you like.”

Chapter Ten

Dave skidded to an abrupt halt. He thrust out both his arms and grabbed the side of the tunnel wall to stop his exhausted body from smashing into the ground. This was no good; he could not go on any further. Dave needed to stop to catch his breath, his heart felt like it was trying to escape through his ribcage.

He bent over, dropped the bundle of clothes that the tramp had given him and pushed his hand deep into his guts. This stitch was killing him; he took in a deep ragged breath while watching the sweat on his brow drip and land on his filthy shoes.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I think we have lost them.”

Dave took his eyes off the now clean furrow on the top of his shoe to look up at Amber’s concerned features. He slowly nodded, unable to find enough breath to speak. The girl wasn’t even panting. Somehow, that didn’t seem to be very fair, he felt like had had just run a bloody marathon.

Was this what true exercise felt like? Dave had never really considered himself to be that out of shape. True, he occasionally thought that his stomach muscles could have done with a bit of work and he knew that he drank too much and ate way too much junk food but he never felt unfit, at least, until now. Oh Christ, he felt like he wanted to keel over and quietly die.

Amber walked back and crouched down in front of him. He stopped panting just enough to breathe in her scent, unlike him, she didn’t smell like a rotting carcass tainted with an old man’s body odour. She gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“You need to take a deep breath, Dave, come on, and breathe in and out slowly. You need to calm down.”

He looked into her eyes. “How come you aren’t fucked?” he gasped.

“I used to run for a team back at my old college.” She looked over her shoulder. “I hate to say this, Dave, but I don’t think we’ll be seeing our saviour again.”

Dave had reached that conclusion some time ago. If he were having trouble running from his pursuers, some old tramp would not stand a chance. He wiped his forehead and looked at the palm of his hand, wondering if he had any moisture left in his body. Well, at least his stitch had begun to recede. “Amber? I think we’re going to be okay.” Maybe he wasn’t as knackered as he first believed. A few seconds ago, he wouldn’t have been able to talk to save his life.

She gave him a warm smile. “I think we have done incredible so far, Dave, considering.” She dropped her bundle of clothes. “This isn’t quite how I expected my night would end when I first saw you on the dance-floor.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Dave ran his fingers along the rough stone wall, “This place is a lot tidier than my bedroom, sweetheart,” he replied, smiling. “It would look miles better with a bit of paint on the walls and maybe a few posters.

“And a bed?” suggested Amber. She kicked off her shoes and then grabbed the bottom of her blouse and started to pull the material over her head.

He gazed at the girl in the dim light, not believing what she was doing. “For crying out loud, Amber, I thought you were joking!”

She giggled. “Oh, Dave. Look at the state of me, hell, look at the state of both of us. I need to get out of these stinking clothes.” Amber winked. “I hope that you’re not going to go all prudish on me, are you?” She threw the blouse on the floor and pulled her trousers down. “It’s such a shame, these clothes cost me a bloody fortune. Now, about your prudish behaviour? Come on, isn’t this the whole reason why you pulled me in the first place?” The girl bent over and pulled off her socks. “I suggest that you do the same, Dave. You really do fucking stink.”

Dave wanted to turn around and look at the wall as this beautiful girl undressed. Despite all the fear inducing madness that this night had thrown at them, he still knew hardly anything about her. He sighed to himself, wondering if he really had gone all prudish.

The grim fact that the pair of them might not make it through the remainder of this night alive had destroyed any erotic thought he had for her hours ago. Dave’s mindset soon changed as Amber unclasped her bra.

He gazed at the girl’s perfect breasts and imagined his tongue sliding over those large, brown nipples. Dave discovered that his libido wasn’t yet quite dead in the water. Oh God, Amber was just stunning and he really did want her.

Dave struggled out of his shirt and fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, his shaking hands unable to get them undone.

She stepped over to him and placed her hands over his. “Here, let me,” murmured Amber. The girl pushed away his hands then deftly unfastened the buttons and slowly pulled his trousers down to his ankles. “That’s better. Look how clean you are under these ruined clothes.” Amber stood up, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled him tight against her chest.

Dave caught his breath as Amber pressed her lips against his and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth and running it along his teeth. Her slender fingers travelled down his spine before moving around to his front. Her probing tongue muffled his groan when Amber slipped one hand inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his penis.

She squeezed and released his hardening organ before pulling his shorts down. “You have no idea how much I need to feel your length deep inside me,” she whispered, pulling her face way. The girl’s eyes travelled down his chest. “Oh my,” she gasped, running her tongue over her lips. “You are big.”

Dave placed his trembling hands over her breasts and ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. “Oh Jesus, you are so beautiful.”

“Take me, Dave. Oh God, take me now!”

He growled and brought both his hands down to her hips and pull her body hard against his, groaning in delight as the tip of his penis brushed up against her soft thatch. Dave then paused in confusion when Amber’s whole body froze solid.

Amber struggled out of his grip, bent down and picked the trousers from the pile of clothes. “I’m sorry!” she cried, thrusting them into his hands. “I… oh God, I’m sorry. I can’t do it, I just can’t.”

He let the clothing fall and laid his hands upon her naked shoulders. “Hey, stop that, sweetheart. What are you saying sorry for?” Dave ran his fingers through Amber’s thick hair. “Come on now, sweetheart, look at me, let me see those beautiful blue eyes.” He wiped away her tears and gently kissed her soft lips. “I have fallen in love with you, Amber. You do know that.”

She sniffed and nodded. “I know.”

“We have the rest of our lives to play with each other,” he said, grinning. “You’re right though, we do fucking stink. Besides that, what if our scruffy friend is still alive? Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if he came back and found us both bonking each other’s brains out?”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Amber bent down and snatched up her new top. She struggled into it before passing Dave the trousers that he had dropped. “We are going to get out of here, aren’t we, Dave?”

“After all the shit that we’ve been through so far? Come on, sweetheart, what else can they throw at us? Look, we’re still kicking, Amber. Trust me, it’ll be all downhill from here,” he replied, trying to sound more confident than he was. He turned around to pull up his trousers, not daring to gaze in lust at those fantastic legs any more. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with his hormones? The girl was obviously in a shit load more stress than she had been letting on. Amber needed his strength and support and yet, all he could think about was fucking her brains out.

When he finally turned back, Dave saw, with some relief, that Amber was looking more or less respectable. His passion cooled down, now that most of her naked flesh lay beneath a layer of multicoloured cast-off clothing. “What a transformation! You really do look fabulous,” he said, grinning.

“Don’t take the piss, I look like a colour blind clown.” She placed her nose against her shoulder and took a deep sniff. “I now smell like a mouldy sofa.”

He threw on the rest of his clothes, sighing when he saw that he had to put on his shit-smelling shoes. Dave brought his arm up against his nose. “Amber, we both do, still, it’s better than smelling like a tin of rotten cat food.”

Amber threw her arms around Dave’s neck. “Not that I’m complaining. I think…” She suddenly released him. “We have company!” she hissed, looking over his shoulder.

He spun around and started when he saw the tramp running towards them. He had honestly believed that they had seen the last of the man.

“Don’t just stand there staring at me!” he yelled. “Run!”

As the Tramp neared, Dave discovered that the man wasn’t alone. The dull light revealed three silent figures right behind the man and they were slowly catching up to him. Amber grabbed Dave’s shoulders and pulled him forward.

“Come on, you heard what he just said!”

Amber raced off along the passageway. He glanced behind him one more time to see that the tramp had managed to put a bit of space between him and his pursuers. He turned back around and sprinted after the girl, feeling his aching body already complaining at the extra work.

“What part of ‘move your arse’ did you not understand?” shouted Jacob, as he drew level with Dave. “Do you want them to catch you?” The tramp got behind him and slammed his hands into his back. “Move it!”

He stumbled forward, trying not to trip over his own feet, wanting to turn around and smack the man right in his face. He gritted his teeth, asked his overworked heart to forgive him and put on an extra burst of speed, desperate to catch up with Amber. The passageway began to slope downwards; the incline did help a little. He honestly believed that if had sloped the other way then he’d have just stopped right there, dropped to the floor and let those maniacs do whatever to him.

Dave noticed the top of Amber’s head disappear around a bend, somehow, he found a hidden resource of energy to put on one more burst of speed. As he turned the corner, Dave saw that the woman wasn’t that far from him now. He watched her slow down and then stop. She spun around; her face displayed a look of complete terror.

“They’re in front of us as well!” she screamed.

Dave caught up with her and saw two more people heading towards them from the other direction. They were just kids; the oldest one couldn’t have been more then seventeen. Their grins widened when they saw Dave glaring at them. He couldn’t take this any longer, why could the bastards not leave them alone? Dave clenched both his fists. The idea of giving up dissolved. There was no way that he would allow a pair of snot-nosed brats to beat him.

“Come on then, if you think you’re hard enough,” he snarled. Dave took a little satisfaction in seeing both of them hesitate. He ran forward and raised his fists, just daring either of the bastards to take him on. Even so, it did take him by surprise to see both of them spin around and flee.

“Just see it as a minor victory,” muttered Jacob. “They’ll be back with reinforcements.” I hadn’t expected them to know about the other entrance, they must be desperate to catch us.” He gazed into Dave’s face. “I’m sorry, but that way is blocked now, my friend.”

“You mean we’re trapped?” Dave could hear the running feet of the others approaching. His bravado had all but disappeared; he didn’t think he could tackle the ones that were chasing the tramp. “What are we going to do?” He felt Amber grab his hand.

“I didn’t say we were trapped.” He set off following the two fleeing kids. “There’s another way out.”

The other pursuers were now visible. Dave felt his bowels loosen at the sight of the silent crowd, there were so many of them and each one carried a weapon. Dave set off after Jacob with Amber right behind him. He saw that the tramp was on his knees, a few yards down the tunnel. The man looked up and pointed to the wall.

“Come on!” he hissed.

Dave couldn’t see anything, what the fuck what he playing at? Amber pushed passed him and dropped to her knees. He then saw it. Dave couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him; there was a circular hole cut into the rock face. For some stupid reason, he imagined a giant mouse popping its head through. “Will you get a fucking grip?” he muttered. He fell to the floor and followed the girl through the hole.

The first thing it hit Dave as he exited the narrow tunnel was the light. He looked up and gasped at the sight of thousands of tiny lights, embedded into the cavern roof. “What the hell is this?” he asked. The air was cold and damp. He shivered. There was a faint taint in the air as well, it reminded him of rotten eggs. Dave then noticed a column of worn stone steps directly in front of them, leading down into the blackness. The stench was coming from wherever those stairs went.

Amber grabbed his arms and pulled him into her embrace. “This is all too fucking weird, Dave. Where is this place?”

He shrugged. “I think the only person who could answer that one is right behind us.” He looked at the foreboding steps; his overactive imagination calmly informed him that those steps led directly to hell. He frantically looked around the new location trying and failing to find another way out. “Oh God, I so hope those fuckers were as blind as me. I don’t want to go down those steps.”

“You can stop fretting, Dave. They won’t follow us in here,” replied Jacob. He pulled the rest of his body through the hole.” Oh, you’ll need this,” he said passing him a small torch. “The illumination doesn’t reach farther than a few feet. Once we leave this cavern, we won’t be able to see anything.”

Dave flicked on the torch and shone the beam down the steps. He could see the bottom. He looked back towards the tramp. “Why? No, seriously, why won’t they follow us in here?”

The tramp looked up towards the roof. “They are so beautiful. It’s been decades since I last looked at those lights.” He looked at Amber. “They have never stopped giving out their bright blue light for thousands of years, not one of them has stopped working, you know.” He shone his torch beam around the cavern.

The light picked out stone columns, the remains of what looked like huge ornate doorways. Dave saw hundreds of hieroglyphics carved into the rock. They were everywhere.

“You’re looking at the remnants of a civilisation that flourished before the last ice-age. It was them who created the first township on this site, you know.” Jacob pointed the beam of light towards the hole. “The ones born in the damned town are terrified of what lies below their feet.”

Dave shone the torchlight into the man’s grinning face. “Is that supposed to fill me with comfort, Jacob? What the fuck is down there?”

The man pushed the torch out of his face and turned to Amber. “You need to trust me on this one, you both do. There is a very good chance that we’ll all get out of here unscathed.” He headed over to the steps and began to descend. “That will only happen if you do exactly as I say and you stay silent. Noise travels in the catacombs.” He looked at them. “Both the tribes hunt mainly by sound.”

Chapter Eleven

Did that foul-mouthed old bastard really mean what he said to her? Jackie sighed, already knowing the answer to that one. That loon was as mad as the rest of the freaks in this town. She peered around the edge of the rotten gatepost, relieved to see that he was almost out of sight. She watched him lean over a low brick wall on the other side of the road before shrugging and making his way back to where she had first bumped into him.

“Oh Jesus, what is wrong with the people in this fucked up town?” she muttered.

What was she going to do now? Jackie desperately needed to find out where they had taken her brother. She hoped to God that he was okay. She looked down at the piles of rubbish and weeds by her feet. Jackie crouched down and tentatively brushed her hand through the discarded human refuge. She picked out a rusty nail file. Shook her head and tossed it over her shoulder.

“Come on, lass. What did you think you’d find in here, a fucking machine gun?” Jackie sighed and carefully rose to her feet, keeping a close eye on the road. She had no intention of letting anyone else see her.

By her estimation, she had been away from that pair of crumbly nutcases for about ten minutes now. Jackie had spent those precious minutes trying to find anyone who was willing to help her. There must be someone who’d know where they had taken her James. The area where those mad women lived was deserted. She’d only just spotted the old guy hunting through a litter bin by the side of the park. If he hadn’t been standing beneath a streetlamp, Jackie would have walked straight past him.

His reaction when he saw her reminded Jackie of how the old bags acted. As she backed away from the foul smelling piece of trash, she just knew that she had made a terrible mistake.

There was no way that she would let him get too close to her. Jackie had spun around and raced along the darkened street, listening to the tramp give chase. He had no chance of catching her, though. Despite those freaks chaining her up, Jackie still had youth and fear on her side. The tramp couldn’t keep up.

As she watched him continue to search along that wall, she wondered if there was anybody in this town who might be able to help her out. She shivered at the thought of what would have happened if she had found somebody else, somebody a lot younger and fitter. Jackie would have stood no chance of getting away.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, trying not to cry. She wiped her face, angry at allowing her emotions to get the better of her. She waited until the creep was out of sight before stepping out into the middle of the road. There was nobody else hanging around, even so, Jackie still felt very exposed. She shook the feeling away, she had the road to herself.

“Time to get him back,” she muttered, running towards the centre of the town. After what she had been through with those two bitches, she just dared anybody to get in her way. Jackie slammed her hand over her mouth, wishing, just wishing that she had the guts to mean those words. She glanced behind her, if she couldn’t even stop one smelly tramp, what chance did she have with anybody else? “I’ll get myself a weapon, that’s what I’ll do.” He just surprised her, that’s all. The shock of discovering that it wasn’t just the two old bags that were off their trolley had thrown her. Jackie wouldn’t make that mistake again.

This was the road that she and James had travelled on, all that time ago. She recognised the landscape. The darkness might have changed the feel of the place, but she wasn’t mistaken. Jackie had perfect memory recall when it came to finding her way around unfamiliar towns.

Jackie then spotted part of the landscape moving. She silently gasped and ran to the side of the road when the top of the tramp’s head came into view a few metres from her location. Was that bastard still looking for her? Jackie thought that he’d given up and gone to find a bin to look through or something. She crouched down and watched him. That bastard must be at least seventy years old, probably even older. “And you’re hiding from him,” she whispered. The old bastard must know everybody in this fucked up town. It also made sense that if he spent his life on the street then he was bound to know the comings and going of the local population.

“I bet he knows where they took my brother,” she whispered. “Of course he’ll bloody know.” Jackie hurried along the side of the wall, keeping her head down and staying a few metres distance from the man. The last thing she needed right now was for the man to spot her. Jackie stopped and leaned against the wall, wondering if she had the nerve to confront him. She could hit him with a rock or something; there were plenty around here, lying about.

She yelped aloud when a pair of car headlights picked her out. She threw her body hard against the ground, wincing as a dozen sharp stones dug into her stomach. Her fears calmed a little when the car didn’t slow down and continued on its journey. When she looked back, Jackie gasped again when she saw the tramp glaring down at her.

“Well, ain’t this a lucky find!” he said, laughing. “You sure are one pretty little girly.” The tramp stooped down and grabbed Jackie’s hair. “It looks like I’ll be getting myself some booze tonight after all. I reckon that I’ll get a decent price for you, pretty girly. Maybe even a couple of bottles.”

She squirmed and wriggled, desperately trying to get this old bastard to let go. All she succeeded in doing was for him to grip her even tighter.

“Do you want me to rip out all your hair, is that what you want?”

“Get off me, you fucker!”

“Now you listen to me, pretty girly. You’re making this dead hard for me.”

“I hope your fucking cock drops off,” she snarled. The tramp brought her head to face his and laughed at her. The man’s breath stank of stale tobacco and cheap whisky. Jackie tried not to let him see how much pain the bastard was causing.

“Ain’t you got fire in your belly, pretty girly? I thought that Betsy would have beaten that out of you. She usually does.” He pushed her head down towards the front of his trousers. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, because you won’t stop acting like a dirty wriggly octopus, I’ll play with you for a bit before I hand you over to the others.” The man moaned. “Oh yes, that does sound like a fucking great idea. I haven’t had a pretty girly that’s been breathing for years.”

Jackie stifled a sob.

“I didn’t think you’d like those apples, pretty girly. Sticking my thick cock into a warm arse will make a pleasant change, I think.”

Jackie ceased her struggles and burst into tears.

He nodded. “Now, ain’t that better? As you’ve stopped it with the moving, I’ll try to be gentle, pretty girly. I can be, you know.”

She nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll be good; I’ll let you do anything you want to me.” As soon as she felt the grip on her hair loosen, Jackie flew out both her fists, hitting the startled man in the stomach. As he folded, she wrenched her head back. He still had one of his hands entwined in her hair. Jackie squealed in agony as she felt his tight grip ripping out the hair by its roots. She gritted her teeth then launched her left foot into his face, grunting in satisfaction when she heard the bones in his nose crunch.

“You’re a dirty, vile, diseased old cunt!” she snarled. “You are going to…” Jackie was just about to boot him in the guts when she lifted her head at the unmistakable sound of another approaching vehicle.

Jackie leaped over the wall and ducked down, trying not to cringe when she discovered that she had jumped into a large patch of nettles. The car sped past their location without stopping to see if the tramp was okay. For the first time since arriving, Jackie thanked the locals for not giving a shit about anybody. Unless they just thought he was sleeping.

She popped her head over the wall to see him on his hands and knees, slowly crawling along the leaf-covered floor. Jackie jumped over and used her foot to push him onto his back.

“Don’t hurt me again, pretty girly,” he whined, spitting blood out of his mouth. “I was joking, honest I was.”

“Yeah, sure you were.” She raised her foot and placed it directly over his face. “I’m not joking though. If you don’t tell me where they have taken my brother, I’ll stamp on your ugly head.”

The tramp spat our more blood and turned his head. He raised one arm and pointed towards the town centre. “Over there, they went that way. That’s where they took him, I swear on my life. Can I go now please?”

“I’d already figured that bit out, you fucking moron,” she snapped. “Whereabouts in town have they taken him?”

“They’ve taken him and the others to the nightclub, pretty girly,” he whispered. “It’s not far from here. I can take you, if you like.” The man looked up into her face. “I really am sorry, please don’t be mad at me?” he coughed again. “I see that I’m not convincing you, well, could you at least get me an ambulance? I think I’m close to dying.”

Jackie shook her head. “Are you having a laugh? I want you to die,” she snarled. “In fact, I want every one of you dirty fuckers in this bastard town to fucking die!” She launched a kick at the tramp’s exposed stomach before sprinting down the road.

As she neared the commercial area of the town, Jackie began to notice the faint stench of burning meat in the air. It smelled as if somebody had set a dozen barbeques on fire. The stench was vile. Jackie stopped and placed the sleeve of her coat tight against her nose and mouth.

She stopped dead at the sight of three young men hurrying out of a pub on the other side of the road. Her terror changed to confusion when they didn’t bother to give chase. They must have seen her, what were they doing? They turned around and started to hurry towards the centre of the town. Jackie hurried after them, keeping her distance. If these fuckers did suddenly change their mind and go after her instead, Jackie wanted enough of a head start so that, unlike the tramp, if they did catch her, she wouldn’t stand a chance,

More people emerged from other streets and buildings, all heading in the same direction and that smell was getting worse. Jackie held her nose and breathed through her mouth but it was no good, she could now taste the stink. She noticed that none of the other townsfolk appeared to be affected by it. In fact, they didn’t seem to be affected by anything; they all appeared to be in some sort of trance.

Jackie then saw where everyone was going. A faint orange glow flickered through the row of large trees that lined the main high street. She slowed down and pushed her way through the tight knot of people crowded around her. They were burning something; they had built up a huge bonfire in the middle of that nightclub carpark.

Her stomach did slow summersaults when she saw a writhing figure at the top of the fire. “Oh no. No please. Not that.”

The people around had stopped as well; they were all turning to stare at Jackie. She looked into their eyes; it felt as though she was staring into the eyes of dolls. Jackie backed away, not stopping until a streetlamp blocked her progress. She moved around it, keeping her eyes on the other people, when she reached the alcove of a butcher’s shop, Jackie saw them turn one by one and continue walking towards the fire.

Oh shit, they only reacted when she started to speak. Jackie placed her hand over her mouth, watching the rest of the people pass by her. She squeezed away her tears, determined not to break down and collapse right here and now. It might not be what she though it was, they couldn’t be burning people down there, nobody could be that evil, could they?

Jackie watched the last of the people disappear from view and moved out of the alcove. Despite the danger, Jackie needed to find out. She passed an Indian restaurant and looked in through the window. The place was deserted. Yet the tables were still full of uneaten the food. Jackie noticed that the door was wide open. She ventured inside and walked over to the first table. Jackie picked up a large knife from the surface. It wasn’t exactly a machine gun but it was better than nothing at all.

She looked around the empty restaurant, trying to see if there was anything else she could use. Jackie’s eyes lit up when she spotted a telephone hanging from the wall just behind the bar. “Oh, thank you, sweet Jesus, that’s just what I wanted.” She rushed over and picked up the receiver. There was no dial tone. “You show me just one glimmer of hope before shitting it back into my face!” she cried.

“Fuck you all,” she snarled. They weren’t going to beat her, no way, not after what they had subjected her to. Jackie tucked the knife into the back of her trousers, picked a chicken breast off a plate and stuffed it into her mouth, trying not to choke on the meat. She looked at the rest of the food just going to waste and sighed before running out of the restaurant.

It didn’t take her long to reach the outer limits of the crowd. It looked as though everybody who lived in this town was here. Jackie ducked down when she spotted the blank faces of Ada and Betsy, not too far from her. She instinctively reached behind her back, knowing full well how easy it would be to push her blade into the old bitch’s hateful heart. Jackie took in a lungful of cold smoky air, trying to clear away the rage. She needed to find her brother before this group of zombiefied bastards realised there was a stranger in their midst.

Jackie leaned against a Ford Escort van and counted to three before pushing her way through the crowd, heading towards the next parked car. Nobody stopped or questioned her. She followed their line of sight and saw they were all staring at the flames.

Above the noise of the flames crackling, Jackie realised that she could hear the sound of a man’s voice. She stood on her tip toes and could just make out a cloaked figure standing beside the fire, with his arms stretched out. Her heart then sang with relief when she saw her brother was down there, still alive. They had bound his arms and legs and placed him against the nightclub building along with several other people.

Jackie’s voice almost betrayed her when the crowd surged forward, pinning her against the van. Suddenly, the people around her, moved back. She looked to her left and saw some of them part to allow several men through.

She dropped to the floor when Jackie saw the men were not acting drugged like the rest of the townsfolk. This did not bode well. They had their wits about them. Her heart leapt into her throat when she caught sight of that tramp tailing them.

Jackie rolled under the car when the men approached, and watched their feet pass just inches from her face. There were nine of them; Jackie now wished that she had found a machine gun in that restaurant now, what bloody use was her silly knife against nine thugs? She jumped at the sound of one of the men passing her cry out in pain. Jackie scrambled as close to the edge as she dare. Three of them had a dark haired teenage boy in a bear grip. He was begging them to release him. One of the other men lashed out with the back of his hand.

The sudden punishment did not silence him, instead, it just made him worse. Jackie silently groaned when she watched a large youth at the front stop walking; he turned around and rushed over to the youth. He smiled at him before drawing out a long sword from behind him back. If made her knife look like a toothpick.

“Please, Phil!” cried the teenager. “Look, I’ll be quiet; I promise I’ll be good. Just don’t hurt me!”

Jackie thought that he was just going to threaten the teenager with his sword. Instead, he thrust the blade deep into his stomach. The men holding the teenage let him go and the dying man fell to the ground, rolling about on the road, trying to stop his intestines from spilling out over the tarmac.

The men stopped and grouped around the teenager. His face was just inches from hers now. She saw that he didn’t have long before he left this mortal coil. Jackie wish that she could just hold him and give him some reassurance that not everybody in this town wished him harm. The boy opened his eyes and bellowed out a single ear-piercing shriek before his body stopped moving for good.

The men chuckled before jogging into the carpark. Through tear-blurred eyes, Jackie watched them grab her brother and drag him over to the fire. She shut her eyes and slammed her hands over her eyes, trying to block out her brother’s screams.

Chapter Twelve

Gavin waved the torch beam along the roof of this abandoned mine shaft, looking in distrust at the decaying wooden beams and trying not to think of how much weight must be above them.

“Why have you stopped?”

He shone the torch along the lichen-encrusted walls before he stopped at Gloria’s feet. Gavin tried to give the woman a reassuring smile then gave up when he realised that she couldn’t see his attempt in the dim light.

“I’m just checking to see if I can see any more chambers” he replied, lying. Gavin had stopped because he thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like footsteps. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, the last thing he needed right now was for the woman to get hysterical. Gavin shone the torch behind Gloria, trying to work out how far they had travelled, but it was impossible. He couldn’t even see the entrance to the mine shaft anymore. He flicked off the light.

“Be quiet,” he hissed when the woman gasped. Aside from her harsh breathing, Gavin could detect no other sounds apart from the steady drip of water coming from somewhere in front of them. He doubted that any of those men would have followed them in here.

At least he hoped they wouldn’t. What he wouldn’t give for a decent firearm, or even a blunt instrument. He wasn’t scared to tackle Andy or any of the other but he wasn’t an idiot, those guys would make mincemeat out of him if he didn’t have anything to defend himself with. He turned the torch back on, he was confident that they hadn’t been followed.

Gavin was getting very nervous now, the men from town weren’t in here with them but he couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody was here, hiding and watching. His copper’s instinct kept telling him that they needed to get out of here right now. His instinct had been wrong on the rare occasion in the past but he had never felt it this strong before. Gavin shivered, he couldn’t help it.

“I felt that,” said Gloria. “It’s not that cold, you know.”

“You had better tell me why you were confident that your husband and the others wouldn’t come in here after us.” He wanted to kick himself, why the fuck did he not ask this one before they were so deep inside the mine?

“You’re going to find this very silly, Gavin.”

Somehow, he thought his reaction would be opposite to her next words.

“Well, it’s not just Andy and the others in the station, the whole town is terrified of coming down here. I’ve lived in Cerchester a long time and, as you have found out, they don’t tell us anything, even me, despite marrying Andy. Even so, you do pick up bits of information and catch snippets of rumour. They all seem to think that something else lives under the town.” She chuckled. “Some sort of bogyman, I think.” Gloria grabbed his hand. “You see, I said it was silly.”

Gavin played the light across the lichen-encrusted walls; he didn’t think it was silly at all and it scared him shitless. His training and common sense told him that the locals were all just playing a prank on this rather dull woman, the same woman who probably fell foe to the striped paint prank. His deeper feelings, his cop instinct, informed him otherwise.

“Look, why don’t we just go back, Gloria. It has been ages since we entered this mineshaft. Those men would have left ages ago.”

“No, we can’t go back” she gasped. “They’ll still be waiting for us, I just know it. Gavin, you have to trust me here. This is the only way out. They have cut off the town. I’ve been down here before. I used to come here when I was a kid.” Gloria caught her breath. “Cerchester was not a nice place to grow up in, if you weren’t born here, Gavin. This was my playground.”

The woman put her arms around Gavin’s waist. “This tunnel leads to just a couple of miles short of Eastmere, you need to trust me on this.”

He nodded. “Okay, we carry on.” Gavin gently pushed her arms off him and wrapped his fingers around hers. He looked at this middle-aged woman, trying not to think about how lonely her childhood must have been. He wouldn’t wish growing up in this fucked up town on anyone. “Have you been down here recently, Gloria?”

She shook her head. “Good Lord, no. I’m not even allowed out of the house without Andy’s permission.” Gloria shivered. “I must have been mad. Andy, why on earth did I stay here? Why did I go marry some guy who was going to treat me like crap for the rest of my life?”

Gavin didn’t answer. From what he had seen, observing this woman, he figure that it wouldn’t have mattered where she lived, Gloria would have ended up with a man who wouldn’t treat her like a lady. He guessed that it was a little ironic to have grown up in a town where nearly all the men were complete bastards.

She dragged her finger down the side of one of the wooden supports. “You know, I used to wish that I had the guts to run away. Back then, I wasn’t so much of a doormat. I still had a bit of defiance left in me.” Gloria wiped her finger down her dress. “We had better get a move on, Gavin.”

“We’re not going to get lost down here, are we?”

“No, we won’t. There are no intersections or dead ends. It is one long tunnel that leads away from this evil place.” The woman laughed. “Can’t you feel the change in yourself, Gavin? I know that you haven’t been in the town that long but, just being here is enough to start to alter you. The further we get from the centre, the easier it is to think. Its influence is diminishing. Believe me; we are going the right way.”

He closed his eyes and tried to take in her words. She was making sense. Since being in Cerchester, Gavin hadn’t given his old life back in Eastmere that much thought. His parents lived there and so did all his mates, so why had he not once considered getting in touch and asking how they were? Hell, he and a few of the guys from the station used to go out drinking to the local pubs at least once a week.

“Yeah, I think I can see what you mean,” he whispered. Ten miles was not that long. Going by his calculations, they had been down here for about an hour, that meant they could already be halfway there.

The old memories flooded into his brain, how was it possible for this town to suppress his desire to leave? God, the sooner he was out of here, the better. Gavin shivered, he couldn’t shift that thought that someone was watching them, no matter how hard he tried. Putting it down to simple paranoia wasn’t helping either.

He felt Gloria wrap her hand in his. He smiled, reassured at her warmth. How on earth did Gloria have the guts to come down here alone when she was just a kid? This place was creepy; the girl had more balls than he gave her credit for.

Gavin trudged ahead, following the rusted metal rail between his feet. The desire to pick up the pace ate into him like acid, yet, he dare not. The thought of one of them tripping up and breaking a couple of bones, pushed all thoughts of running, out of his head. An injury like that could finish the pair of them.

“Oh fuck, what the bloody hell is that?” shouted Gloria.

He caught his breath and stopped, getting ready to run, he thought that the woman had just stopped his imaginary watcher.

“Over there, Gavin, can you see it? Shine the light on that wall. I’m sure that I saw something shiny.”

Gavin raised the torch and played the beam along the wall. The light picked out a couple of wooden supports and rough rock, nothing looked any different. He was about to ask her exactly what she thought she had seen when his light reflected right back at him. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, gazing at the silver metal door embedded into the stone face.

“I’m telling you, that door was not there, the last time I was down here, Gavin.”

He kept his mouth shut, not wishing to mention that in must have been over forty years since she last set foot in this mine and it would have been just as dark as it was now. Gavin stepped over the rail and walked over to the door. His brief thought of using it to get out of here vanished when the first thing he noticed was the lack of a handle. Could this be a fire exit? As stupid as it sounded, it sure did look like one.

“Wait, I think this could tell us something,” he said, reaching up and wiping his hand along the surface. Beneath the wet fungal growl, Gavin found a small rectangular metal plate, bolted to the door. He shone the torch over it, seeing words embossed into the plate. “In the event of a lock-down, call the duty manager.”

“Shit,” commented Gloria. “Look at that.”

He turned and saw the remains of a phone, hanging from the wall. “This is seriously weird. I didn’t think this town could creep me out anymore. Are you sure this wasn’t here?”

She shook her head. “Of course I’m sure.” Gloria stood beside him, “Shine the torch on that sign again, Gavin. Oh wait; I know where this goes to. Don’t you recognise that logo?”

He shook his head.

Gloria sighed. “It’s the meat processing plant. This must be one of their fire exits.”

“Because, spending all that time, effort and money creating a fire exit that leads to the middle of an abandoned mine shaft is normal? There is something else going on here, Gloria.”

“I’m sure there is, does it really matter though?”

Gavin took her hand and led the woman away from the door. “No, I don’t suppose it does matter. Nothing in this crazy town makes any sense to me any more. It’s just my cop curiosity getting the better of me.”

She pointed to the other side of the mine, “there’s another door there.”

He nodded and dragged the woman away; his cop curiosity wasn’t the only instinct trying to get the better of him now. That being watched feeling had returned, stronger than ever. It was making his skin itch. “Come on, you,” he hissed, trying not to panic. “We need to get a move on.”

Gloria stopped dead and looked wide-eyed over his shoulder. “No!” she gasped.

“We can’t stay here!” he growled. “Have you lost your mind?”

She spun him around. “I was not talking about the doors this time. Gavin, just look at that!”

He shone the light along the new opening, cut into the rock, next to the original tunnel.

“What do you mean that wasn’t there before, Gloria.?”

“What part of that did you not fucking understand? This tunnel has no intersections.”

Gavin saw marks around the smaller tunnel and nodded to himself. She was right, the tunnel was recent, he didn’t really see a bunch of townsfolk deciding to start up mining for coal. He shook his head and tried not to think about where that tunnel would lead to. He headed over to the original tunnel, still following the line.

“Gavin!” she screamed, grabbing his arm. “What the fuck are they?”

He shone the torch down the tunnel and saw three figures loping towards them, his light reflected from the creature’s amber eyes, he spun around and saw that he’d been right all along, there were another half a dozen behind them, and they must have been following them for hours. “Come on,” he said, dragging her into the new tunnel.

“Are they behind us? Please don’t tell me they are following us, Gavin.”

He squeezed her hand, “Just hush,” he whispered. “Look, if they wanted, those things could have run us down ages ago.” Gavin glanced behind him; he couldn’t hear them. “They’ve been following us for ages.”

“We’re heading into hell!” she hissed, gripping his hand tight. “Oh, we should turn back right now. I don’t like this one bit.”

Gavin dragged her further into the tunnel, the silly woman was right; he could make out more detail as they ventured further in. He sighed and pointed at the ceiling. “Just hush, Gloria, that’s the best idea.” Gavin looked at the red light bulbs set into the roof of the tunnel; he was beginning to see some of what was happening now. Most of the situation made no sense but he did guess that this channel was connected to the factories. This was human built; he couldn’t imagine those monsters screwing in a light bulb. Gavin skidded to an abrupt halt when he turned the corner.

“What the fuck is this?”

He stared in disbelief at the two battered metal troughs running along either side of the wall. A couple of feet above the troughs, he saw a dozen metal gutters jutting out of the rock. Foul smelling grey slop steadily dripped from each pipe.

“Oh no, they’ve followed us in. What are we going to do?”

Gavin slowly turned around and saw two of their pursuers standing in the middle of the cavern. He watched them both sniff the air, before looking towards the troughs.

“They’re real,” she hissed. “The bogeymen are real!”

They both spun their heads towards the woman and growled. Gavin clamped his hand over her mouth. Just hoping the foolish woman would get the message. Oh Jesus; those things were attracted to sound! He watched them head straight to the two troughs, he tried not to even breathe. This was just unbelievable. They might even be able to get out of here.

Gavin took his eyes off the creature just for a moment when something shiny caught his eye. A soggy cardboard lasagne cover floated past him. These things were feeding on waste from the local factories. It boggled his mind to wonder why anyone would go to so much trouble in keeping these sub-human animals alive and fed. From his experiences with the savages above ground, they weren’t that far removed from whatever the fuck these things were.

He took his hand away from her mouth and pressed his finger against his lips, surely she could see that it was her fool whining that caught their attention. Gavin let go of the woman and crept over to the two creatures, listening to them slurp up the vile lumpy mess; it took a large amount of self control not to push them forward so he wouldn’t have to touch their bodies.

They both growled deep in their throats as Gavin squeezed between them, the sound turned his bowels to water. He expected the pair of them to suddenly spin around and dive on him. Gavin caught his breath and thanked God when he got past the creatures. He turned and frantically gestured to the terrified woman.

“I can’t move, Gavin! Help me!”

As soon as she spoke, Gavin saw both of them raise their heads and sniff the air. He heart leapt into his throat as they started to growl again, he slowly backed off, listening as their growls grew deeper.

“Don’t leave me!” she wailed.

They stiffened, turned to face the woman, when she moaned again. They both rushed her. Gavin silently whimpered and ran out of the tunnel, with her frantic shrieking ringing in his ears.

Chapter Thirteen

He had always thought that the word ‘moderation’ was something only queers and losers said. Dave used that word all the fucking time, usually when it was his turn to get a round in, the tight cunt. Phil lived his life to excess, never moderating anything. Until now, he didn’t even think that you could get too much of a good thing.

Phil leaned back against the cracked white tiles and gazed up at the muted yellow lighting. This had been the first time that he’d ever been in the shitty assembly plant after clocking out, it felt so strange to be in a familiar place without wearing his protective clothing, almost as strange as seeing all these strangers in here tonight. What was even stranger was how uncomfortable he felt with the whole situation, it was as if these brain dead fuck-heads had invaded his house. He pushed that stupid thought away, it had no place in his head.

The man at the front of the room, currently standing on one of the packing tables, was still going on about how the united consciousness of Cerchester was now burning brighter than the fires outside. Phil tried to tune out the dickhead’s well annoying voice but it was just no good. Daniel was impossible to ignore.

That man demanded the attention of everyone in the packed room. Phil reckoned that nearly every local must be in here tonight. Their rapt faces hung from every word that spewed out of that gobshite’s mouth. Most of Daniel’s audience were made up of the freaky zombie bastards. They really did make Phil’s skin itch. Daniel had already explained their situation to him and a few of the others who had escaped the zombification process. Apparently, the less imaginative just needed some more stimulation before they could begin the miraculous transformation.

Back when those sugarcoated words dripped from Daniel’s mouth, just like these fuckwits currently listening to the twat ramble on, Phil felt pride and gratitude fill him to the brim. That though was before all the artificial euphoria wore off. Looking back, he wanted to punch himself for falling for all that bullshit.

The blonde tart stood beside him. It disgusted him to see that the mental bitch wore the same cow-like mask as the rest of these clowns.

Phil examined all the other people around him, trying to find anyone else as bored of this shite as he was. It shocked him to discover that he was the only body in here that wasn’t paying attention.

What made him so different to all the others? True, most of the people in here were dumb fucking retards that had problems counting past four, but there were a few people in the room who did have more than just two brain cells, they shouldn’t have fallen for Daniel’s lies. Maybe he was just the first one to awaken from this trance and the others would be snapping out of it at any minute.

Phil was just like everyone else in the beginning. A pang of regret and a little bit of jealousy flowed through him when he remembered those first emotions after Daniel had fucked with his mind. God, the blood-boiling ecstasy that crashed through his nervous system when he saw the life draining from the outsiders that they had caught was just orgasmic.

He and Lisa had caught and killed four of them. Their first kill had to be the best, some mental old woman who had chosen the wrong time to leave her house to put some rubbish in her garden bin. Straight away, they both knew that she wasn’t a local. For a start, she was acting as if nothing had happened; she was even humming to herself. All that changed when the woman spotted the pair of them leaping over her low fence. The woman’s stupid mutt had run out from her house, galloped between the woman’s legs and fastened its teeth on Lisa’s ankle.

Phil had pissed himself laughing when Lisa had picked up the toy poodle, swivelled her hips and impaled the dog on the metal fence. The old woman had gone fucking wild at that. He had soon shut the bitch up though, a swift punch it her face had soon quietened that mouth. Her nose just detonated. The sight of all that crimson fluid flying from her face had acted like a trigger to the pair of them. The next recollection was of looking down and seeing that they had literally stamped her body into the lawn. Lisa was sat in the middle of the bloodied mess, licking off lumps of jellied blood from her fingers. He then noticed that she had removed her clothes. Phil’s passion had gone volcanic.

He sighed at the memory of the incredible sex that had followed; Phil had almost passed out again when he finally did cum. Before leaving the site of their first kill, Lisa had picked up one of the old woman’s ears and ran into the house. She had emerged a few minutes later with the organ sewn into the side of her stomach. It hadn’t bothered Phil; the extra kinkiness just incensed his passion and made him more impatient to find another outsider to slaughter.

The doubt that perhaps Daniel had fucked with his head only began after the third kill.

They had made their way to the town centre, after a fruitless house search a few streets away. Lisa had told him that she needed to do another one so ho could fuck her again. She suggested that although a lot of the outsiders will be cowering in their rabbit hutches, a few of the braver ones would have gone to town in search of answers and they would be more fun to fuck up.

They had found their last kill easy enough. Two minutes after entering the town centre, Lisa had started to tremble. She had pointed in the general direction of the shuttered up discounted supermarket. Phil then saw him, a young lad running into the alley, between two buildings. He had recognised the kid immediately. The stupid looking lime-green coat gave it away. Lisa had just spotted Phil’s next-door neighbour, a dorky little arsehole called Weston Briggs.

His annoying family had moved into the house opposite theirs a few months ago. In normal circumstance, Phil wouldn’t have paid much attention to new arrivals in the estate. In normal circumstances, new arrivals didn’t come with a well fuckable dark haired teen lass with perfect tits and shapely legs.

They followed the boy into the alley; it’s weird, even as they were bashing the little cunt’s head into the wall, all he could think of was banging Weston’s sister and then doing his mum. He wanted to fuck the women without actually killing them. Oh, he’d have slapped them about a bit, that was normal but he wouldn’t have actually done them in.

It dawned on him that the act of killing was just not for him. All his life, Phil had got a buzz out of torture, out of inflicting pain and hurting people, the simple fact was that the dead felt nothing. Just like he felt nothing when they butchered their last victim, that freaky security guard.

He jumped a little when the blond tart snuggled into his arm. It didn’t really surprise Phil to see that Lisa hadn’t taken her eyes off Daniel. He wanted to push the bitch away from him. The new additions that she had sewn into her arm were digging into his skin, and it was well fucking uncomfortable. Phil then noticed that Lisa wasn’t the only one who had taken up the weird concept of trophy collecting. Gazing around the crowd, he found that none of the others were as decorated as Lisa but Phil did spot a few of them had collected the odd body part, mainly the younger crowd.

Daniel had turned the locals in his town into a bunch of fucking savages. The cunt had addicted them, getting them high on killing and violence, mainly killing. This fucker was no saviour; he was just another drug pusher. Phil wanted no part of this charade anymore. He wanted his old life back; he decided that he preferred his violence in short bursts.

Phil broke out of his musing when he became aware that Daniel had stopped talking. He then saw that everyone in the room was glaring at him instead.

“Am I boring you, Phil?” Daniel walked up the packing table looking at each of the assembled people. “I have liberated all of you. I’ve set you free and broken the shackles that this town has placed upon you. Thanks to me, there will never be a need to hide your passions and desires.”

A low murmur emerged from the crowd.

“Yet, there is one man who isn’t so grateful. That one at the back wants to regress to how it once was. Phil believes that how you feel and how you behave is somehow deviant and should not be advertised.” A wry smile emerged from him. “Do you want to go back to how it once was?”

That low murmur increased in volume. Phil saw their dull expressions dropping off their gormless faces. A tiny shiver travelled up his spine when he saw just how angry they now all looked. Even Lisa was glaring at him. Daniel jumped off the table, the crowd parted as the man approached Phil.

“The thing is, young man, I do understand your feelings, I really do. I see you all as my children, Phil.” The man bent down and stroked the back of his hand down Lisa’s cheek. His fingers continued their journey down her front. The woman groaned when he cupped her large breasts. “I have been away from here for many centuries, Phil. I left disillusioned, not believing in the great work anymore.” The man then pushed Lisa onto her knees. “It’s all been a lie, there is no greater power and the great work is a lie.” He began to unfasten his trousers. “So, you have a simple choice, you are either with me or against me.”

Phil then noticed the young slag in the tight dress he had lusted over in the nightclub. The little bitch was hiding just behind Daniel. Her appearance had diminished somewhat since he had last seen her.

“Let’s burn the bastard!”

The man spun around, his arm flew forward and catching the girl on the side of her head she staggered back, crying out. Phil grinned when he saw the little bitch curling up under the table, weeping.

“Don’t you ever interrupt me!” Daniel screamed. He sighed, fastened up his trousers and gently pushed Lisa back. He took a deep breath before pulling the girl out from under the table. “I think not. It would be a waste of good meat. Phil is a very big boy. I know that some of our lesser distinguished townsfolk who would relish such a quality meal.”

It took just seconds for Phil to work out exactly what the bastard intended to do. Daniel was talking about the two families. That cunt intended to feed him to the fucking regressives! The man closed the distance between them in two paces. Phil was ready for the fucker. He pulled out his thin-bladed knife and slashed out at Daniel, aiming to open up his guts. Daniel jumped back, before the knife made contact.

Phil jerked up his head and glared at Daniel, he then saw something move under the man’s skin. It stretched out like a fist pushing against the inside of a balloon. He wasn’t about to stop to see what would happen next. Phil kicked Lisa out of the way, pushed through the zombies and ran through the double doors that led to the main factory. He hurtled down two flights of steps and raced into the main food processing area. He closed the door behind him and grabbed a sweeping brush, lying beside the door. He pushed the pole between the two handles and stood back. That should hold them for a few minutes at least. He only needed a few minutes to get the fuck out of here.

Phil turned around, looking for a fire-exit. He needed one that would take him into the real carpark and not to the front of the building. His plan was to hide out on the wasteland behind the factory until he could work out what to do next. The idea of hiding went against the grain of his whole personality. Phil would punch any cunt who’d dare to call him a coward. Even so, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take on the whole town and win.

His pondering was interrupted by the sound of a quiet moan. Phil ducked down, annoyed with himself that his instinct had failed to inform him that he wasn’t alone. He stilled his breathing and slowly smiled when the low moaning restarted. The noise was coming from behind one of the huge steel mixers at the far end of the room. He silently hurried over to the bank of mixers and peered around the first metal drum. Phil grinned at the sight of their latest shift supervisor standing directly above a vat of cream sauce base with his trousers around his ankles.

The supervisor’s eyes were shut tight while his hand was gripped tight around his thick penis. Phil watched in fascination as he violently masturbated, occasionally releasing a quiet moan. He’d never seen anyone else apart from the women he fucked do this. He then realised just how pervy and weird it was to watch another man play with himself and shut his eyes.

Phil was so glad that he never ate any of the filth that came off these conveyor belts. His diet consisted of takeaways and restaurant food. Phil then remembered all the waiters and counter staff that he had threatened, abused and generally pissed off over the years. He would never know what else they had added to his food after Phil had insulted them. He listened to the man cry out as he climaxed and felt a little sick, knowing that he could have very well eaten food diluted with another man’s creamy seed.

He waited for him to finish dripping the fluid into the vat before he rushed over to him. Phil reached around and placed his thick fingers around the man’s penis. “I’m not entirely too sure why you weren’t with the rest of the clowns upstairs, buddy.” He gave the man’s deflated organ a sharp squeeze when the man tried to wriggle out of Phil’s grip. “If you do that one more time, you vile fucker, I’ll rip off your cock and make you eat it.” Phil squeezed it again, just to make sure he had received the message. He tapped the man’s cheek with his knife. “When those cunts come down here, you’re going to tell them that you haven’t seen me, okay?”

The supervisor nodded, “Please let go,” he squealed. “You’re hurting me.”

“I could cut off your cock, if you like. It would hurt a lot less than me just ripping it off.”

Phil’s own cock started to harden at the sight of the man’s tears rolling down his cheeks. “Okay, I think you’re getting the idea. Just remember, I will be watching you. I’m sure you can guess what I’ll do if you do betray me.”

The supervisor nodded again.

“Just remember what I said, fuckface.” He released the man and ran over to the storage bays, heading for the fire exit when he heard the sound of splintering wood. He ducked behind a brick pillar and listened to that two-faced fucker screaming out Phil’s name and telling his pursuers exactly where Phil was heading.

“Bollocks,” he uttered, when he caught sight of three figures rushing past his hiding place. They were running straight towards the fire exit, cutting off his escape. Oh, this was so frustrating. He should have just drowned that pervy twat in the white sauce. Now what was he going to do? His eyes travelled down to his feet and saw that he wasn’t trapped after all. He was standing on one of the many sluice outlets, dotted around this floor.

He crouched down, forced his knife into the gap between the floor and the circular metal plate, and lifted the cover up, trying not to make any noise.

The ladders below, led into the vast network of pipes that ran under every food producing shop and factory in Cerchester. All waste products were fed into the tunnels, through conduits that led to the two families’ domains. Their contribution helped to keep the populations getting too hungry and emerging out into the open to search for other food sources.

It looked like he would be going down there after all. At least this way, it would be on his own terms. If they had caught him, the fuckers would have probably worked him over and broken a few of his bones before tying him up and leaving him down there as helpless as a baby.

He held his breath and lowered his body into the hole. Phil grabbed the first rung of the ladders; it fucking stank disgusting down here, mainly of old food. Still, the smell must be mild compared to the sewers under the two abattoirs and the takeaways and restaurants in town.

Phil watched Daniel holding the supervisor over the vat. It appeared that the man wasn’t all that happy with the supervisor, from what he could make out; Daniel was asking him why he hadn’t kept hold of Phil. He watched Daniel drop the man into the sauce before placing the plate back in place.

Phil slowly climbed down the ladders, the sewers were now pitch black. He wished that he had brought a torch. Hell, he’d given up smoking a few months back so he didn’t even have a lighter on him.

“This is just so much bollocks,” he muttered. Phil reached the floor and groaned when he landed in a puddle of freezing water. “Where the fuck do I go now?” He stiffened and grabbed the rungs when he heard the sound of something growling close by.

Chapter Fourteen

Caroline Hardy balanced the vodka bottle and tuna sandwich in one hand as she reached for the living room door. “Oh, you sneaky little bugger!” she cried as the sandwich slipped out of her hand. The bread and contents splattered across the kitchen tiles. Caroline sighed, she opened the door, stepped over the mess and strode towards her work desk. The sandwich catastrophe could stay on the floor for all she cared. Caroline was just thankful that it wasn’t the vodka that had slipped out of her hand.

“What would it matter?” She turned and started at the floor, imagining if she would have left it there if it had been smashed glass and vodka spread across the tiles. She shrugged, know how she felt, the answer would probably be yes. After all, there was still one more bottle hidden at the back of the cupboard, kept there for emergencies, just like this one.

“Fuck them all,” she whispered. Oh yeah, this was an emergency all right, her emotional well being was officially shot to shit today.

Caroline looked over to the phone, noticing that she hadn’t bothered to replace the receiver. Just like the mess on the kitchen floor, there now didn’t seem to be any point in taking the time and effort. Hell, it is not as if he was going to ring her up and explain that it had all been a huge mix up.

“He had enjoyed telling me that,” she muttered, reaching for the bottle. “Oh yeah, that bloody Andy had certainly got off on my sister’s death alright.” She caught her reflection in the bottle and it occurred to her that she had not shed one tear since that copper had gleefully told her that her brother-in-law had killed April.

“I’m not really grieving, that’s why.” She prised off the cap. “I’m just going through the motions.”

Caroline had never been able to stand the bitch and if she searched her feelings, she found that she was happy April was finally out of her life.

“No, no way. Fuck that, I do not believe that!” Caroline got the cap off the bottle and poured herself a generous measure, doing her best to keep her hand steady. She put the bottle back on the desk and fell in her chair. “No, it’s not really true,” she whispered.

She gazed in despair at the untidy pile of workbooks on the desk in front of her. She should have marked these at school but Caroline didn’t wish to spend more time than necessary at that horrible place. The last job she wanted to do right now was to go through these books. The desire to just take this bottle, collect the other one and lock herself in her bedroom sounded like the best idea in the universe.

“I need to stay focussed.” Caroline drank half the contents, of the glass, groaning with pleasure as the liquid burned its way down her throat. Maybe not totally focussed, just enough to remember what planet she was on. Book marking, as tedious as it was, would help Caroline put her confused mind back into some sort of order.

As she picked the first book off the pile, the feel of the cheap wallpaper under her fingertips evoked memories of her time at the school as a pupil. There were some practises in Cerchester that were timeless and the teacher asking the kids to cover their workbooks with wallpaper was one of them.

Caroline placed the book in front of her and ran her fingers down the front, smiling. Their mum had found a spare roll of wallpaper in the attic; Caroline remembered squealing with excitement at the sight of the paper. She hadn’t seen that pattern for years. Their parents had decorated their bedroom three years previously, mainly due to April’s insistence that eleven-year-old girls do NOT have teddy bear wallpaper in their room anymore.

What April demanded, she usually got. Her sister has refused to cover her book with what she had described as childish rubbish; instead, she had chosen the cover of some teen magazine. April had always tried to gain the upper hand in every situation. She had completely dominated Caroline’s life whilst growing up.

She drained her glass and poured herself another measure. Caroline then took a swig from the bottle. April hadn’t gained the upper hand in every situation though. The delicious memory of discovering that Caroline had managed to pass her teaching qualifications and her sister hadn’t passed any of them, came flooding back.

“A bitter victory,” she murmured.

Caroline opened the workbook and squinted at the pages of tiny incomprehensible writing. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. It was no good, she hadn’t drunk enough of the vodka to turn the words into something that she could understand. Caroline flipped through the beginning of the workbook and stared at the rest of the pages in confusion. The presentation for the girl’s previous assignments was beautiful. It was as if somebody else had written her work today. Caroline leaned closer and sighed in resignation as the words focused into legibility. The girl had filled four pages of just three words. She’d written ‘fuck you Caroline’ in microscopic writing.

“Oh, you are so hilarious.” She drew a large red X on all the four pages then dropped the book on the floor.

Both sisters had shared the dream of becoming teachers ever since leaving primary school; apart from having opposing personalities, it was one trait that shared. Caroline might have been the only sister to achieve her dream but the reality was nothing like she had imagined.

Being a teacher was probably the closest that she ever got to interacting with normal people in this diseased town. The kids in Cerchester didn’t start to get really mean until their hormones kicked in. Caroline picked the next book off the pile. Her job had not been that bad a few years ago, back then, she used to teach the primary kids. All that changed when they moved her to the larger school.

The weird and fucking terrifying change had never affected Caroline or April. They weren’t true natives though. Their family had relocated to Cerchester when the sisters were only two years old.

“This is a very bad town,” she whispered.

Caroline stood up and walked over to the kitchen, this was no good; she really did need to put something in her mouth. If she didn’t find anything to soak up the booze in her stomach, she’ll be unconscious within an hour. “And that’s a bad thing?” She was only twelve when the first kid in her class went through the change. After that single boy had turned, the rest of the class soon followed suit until only she and April were left. She felt like a lamb in a classroom of wolves. It had been a terrifying experience.

She had learned very quickly that to avoid them singling her out, she had to emulate their vile and disgusting behaviour. Caroline had cried herself to sleep on many of those unforgettable nights. She had been a very bad girl during her teenage years; it was the only way to survive though. She and April weren’t the only non-native children in the town. While most of them had copied the locals, not all the kids were quite so eager. The ones that didn’t commit acts of debauchery disappeared.

Thanks to the drink, Caroline had managed to block out most of her behaviour during that dark period but she did remember that her sister had been able to fit in a lot easier than Caroline had. Her sister had shown no remorse with feeding rat poison to the dairy cows that grazed in the fields behind their house. April had even laughed along with all their mates when they died one by one. April had been the first sister to join in with their friend in playing the popular game of catching cats and trapping their tails in mousetraps.

She stepped over the mess on the floor and saw the fruit bowl on the end of the counter, near the bread bin. “That’ll do,” she said, grabbing an apple. Caroline wandered back to her desk, remembering that April never cried herself to sleep.

“What the fuck am I still doing here? I should have run away from this horrible place, fucking years ago.” She laughed bitterly. It was strange how Caroline only asked that very important question after she had started to drink. “Welcome to Cerchester. You’ll never leave here alive.”

That statement was so true. Once the town had sunk its hooks into your mind and body, it never relinquished its victims.

As the years went by, Caroline had tried to kid herself that she couldn’t leave the town; that she had to stay here for the sake of the kiddies. The poor little blighters needed to experience some piece of normality before whatever was wrong with this town grabbed them and turned every one of the kids into pint-sized monsters.

Caroline took another swig from the bottle then took a bite of her apple. She ran her hand down the front of the workbook in front of her and read the name scrawled in large red letters along the top. Caroline was so tempted to just throw this one straight into the bin. The one belonged to Tony McAllister. She let out a large groan and gulped down another mouthful of vodka,

She filled the glass with what was left from the bottle and dropped the now empty bottle in the bin beside her desk. It was so difficult to stop herself from just dropping the workbook in there as well then staggering back into the kitchen, grabbing that other bottle and just going to bed. “Are you going to let them beat you, girl?” she slurred.

Tony was the first child in her class this year to have undergone the change. His hormones reared their ugly head just a couple of weeks ago and he was already becoming more than just a distraction. Caroline had spotted a couple of others in the class who were starting to change as well.

The boy was due to disappear in a few days; she’d already been informed that Tony was due to go on a ‘vacation’ by the head. This always happened when the kid’s behaviour became too unmanageable. The kid would be absent for about a week and then return to class.

The change in their attitude was alarming. Gone was the open defiance, the bouts of violent tempers and the unpredictable screaming. The returned kids just sat at their desks, kept quiet and got on with their work. She swigged back a mouthful of vodka to stop her body from shaking when she remembered the dread of gazing into their dead eyes.

The adults, the locals had re-shaped their kid’s minds. Their own parents had conditioned the poor little bastards and taught them how to hide their deviations, how to pass off as normal kids.

“They’re monsters in lamb’s clothing.”

Despite knowing exactly what would welcome her beyond the cover of Tony’s workbook, Caroline still opened it. She shivered again, trying not to feel queasy at the sight of the boy’s crude and grotesque drawing that covered every one of his pages. His illustrations were of what Caroline guessed was Tony, judging by the hock of ginger hair on the drawing. Each figure was naked and proudly displaying his erect genitalia. He had drawn himself in various poses, pushing that monster into some poor woman. Despite the fact that his artistic skills were not that good, it didn’t take much figuring out to see that the woman was supposed to be her.

“Fuck, I really do need to get out of here.” The need to leave this fucked up town had never been greater. Caroline knew she just had to escape before something bad happened to her. Judging by the filth that was going through Tony’s sickened mind, Caroline had a good idea just what was in store for her if she didn’t take notice of her drunken mind.

“Will you just admit it to yourself, woman. They are all lost causes.” She looked at her glass, not realising that she had emptied it. Caroline was close to becoming a lost cause herself. She dropped the glass in the bin, followed by Tony’s workbook.

Caroline might have lived in this town for nearly all of her life, but it still wasn’t enough for the others. She wasn’t born in Cerchester and consequently, never felt like she had truly belonged. The natives took great pleasure in reminding her of this fact on a daily basis.

Their closed mouths and refusal to involve her with their lives had not stopped Caroline from hearing of the repeated rumours of strangers coming to Cerchester and never leaving, at least, not alive, or in one piece.

“But I’m not a fucking stranger!” she cried, rubbing her hands over her moist forehead. “I don’t know where else to go.” She gripping her desk, trying to stop the shakes, oh God, she was such a fucking mess.

Hell, of course she was a stranger to the natives. It didn’t matter to these people if you had been here for twenty years or twenty minutes. It was about time she woke up to the plain and simple fact that she was wasting her time and effort with these kids. They didn’t need Caroline; the people in Cerchester didn’t need anyone.

Caroline jerked up her head; she was sure that she’d just heard the sound of tapping on the window behind her. She scraped back her chair and managed to get up without tripping over her wobbly feet and falling onto the carpet. This vodka really had fucked up her balance. There was nothing there; it was probably just a sparrow head-butting the glass again. She sat back down and automatically picked up another workbook. Her anxiety of staying in this dammed town was already starting to fade as the alcohol made her feel very tired.

The reality of her situation was simple. Sure, Cerchester was not the best place to live but it was her home, despite the locals never making her feel very welcome they had, at least left her to her own devices. It made logical sense to believe that if they wanted to make her disappear, they would have done it years ago.

At least here, Caroline knew where she stood. Unlike everywhere else in this shitty country, you could at least be guaranteed to be safe at night. “Unless you’re a stranger,” she whispered.

Caroline screamed out in shock when the glass in her patio door exploded inwards, showering fragments across her tiled kitchen floor. She spun around and cried out as Tony McAllister pushed his large body through the now empty doorframe. The youth brushed lumps of glass out of his hair before striding over the Caroline.

“So, this is that your home looks like,” he said, standing over her, with his big hands pressed against his hips. “It’s a bit of a shithole, miss. There’s fucking glass everywhere. Ain’t you a lazy bitch! Don’t you ever clean up?”

She watched three more boys climb through the patio doorframe. They strutted over and stood behind Tony, each one wore a similar smirking face. She knew all three of the other boys. They were a year older than Tony and she vividly remembered their disruptive presence in her classroom last year. Despite the age difference, it was clear that Tony was their leader.

God, it seemed like he’d grown even larger since she’d last seen him yesterday. How was that even possible?

Tony picked the workbook out of the bin. “I see that you have had a look at my drawings.” He grinned, showing off his block-like yellow teeth. “I think they’re pretty good, although I’m a bit upset that you threw my book away.”

Caroline watched another figure climb into her kitchen.

“Andy? Oh god, what the fuck is happening here?”

The man held up a black piece of scuffed material and shook it. The material rolled down to display a selection of kitchen knives. “Don’t just fucking stare at her, Tony. Grab the bitch and hold her down.”

Caroline staggered away from the two men. Her feet then betrayed her and she crashed to the floor. “Please don’t hurt me!” Through blurred eyes, she saw Andy stood at the back, he wasn’t even looking at her. He now had taken one of the knives out of the roll and was running his finger along the blade.

“These knives took away your sister,” he said. “I remember you once saying to me that you wanted everything that your April got.”

The approaching boy took a deep breath. “You embarrassed me in front of my mates last week, miss. I did not find that very funny. I got my own back by imagining me fucking your juicy little cunt until you passed out, hence the drawings. I can’t believe that it’s really going to happen.”

She screamed out when Tony lunged forward and slammed the palm of his hand against her forehead. He then grabbed her leg and pulled. “Save your pretty voice for later on, Miss, you’ll need it. Don’t worry, miss. Andy isn’t going to fuck you, he just wants to try out his new toys on your flesh. It won’t hurt, at least not at the beginning.” Tony rolled Caroline onto her back and sat on her stomach. “Andy says I can have a play once he’s finished with you.” He placed his hands on the woman’s breasts and squeezed. “Don’t worry though, although I do intend to act out all my fantasies on your broken body. I’m sure that you’ll enjoy yourself as much as I will.” He laughed. “I tell you, I can’t fucking wait.”

Chapter Fifteen

Amber kept hold of his hand while she pulled Dave through the dark labyrinth of tunnels. He glanced behind and moaned at the sight of Jacob lagging behind. It looked as thought the man’s almost superhuman virility did have a limit. “Wait on, Amber,” he whispered. Dave let go of the girl’s hand, turned around and ran over to Jacob.

“What are you slowing down for?” he panted. “Come on, move those feet.” He felt Amber leaning over him. Dave grabbed the man’s arm and waited for Amber to grab the man on the over side. “Are you ready?”

Amber nodded. “We need to move,” she said. “They’re getting closer.”

Dave picked the man off the ground. He just nodded, Amber was right about the things gaining, he could smell the bastards.

He picked up the pace, trying not to stumble over the river of tiny sharp stones beneath their feet. They carried the man along the tunnels, descending into what felt like the bowels of the earth.

“Oh fuck!”

Dave fell back against the sharp stones with Jacob landing on his feet when Amber lost her grip and slipped down the slope. “Are you okay?”

“No, that bloody hurt.” Amber picked herself off the floor and limped towards them. “I’ll survive; it’s mainly my self-respect that was hurt.” Amber helped Jacob up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

He wanted to push Jacob out of the way, wrap his arms around her body, and hold Amber tight against his chest. Dave looked at her. “Okay, we’ll try this way. Help him onto my back.”

Jacob shook his head and looked deep into his eyes. “No, that’s not going to happen.” He whispered. “You two need to go on, just leave me here.”

“No way!” He gasped. “We can’t do that.”

The tramp nodded. “Yes, you can, Dave. If we all stay then we will all die down here.”

“What did you just say?”

“Amber, talk some sense into this idiot. He says that we have to leave him down here.”

Amber ran over to them. “We won’t abandon you, Jacob. Don’t ask us to do that.”

He shrugged. “I’m only being practical. This body has served its purpose. It’s already started to break down. Don’t you worry about me. My Ka will find another one. Despite him burning most of the corpses, there will be another one somewhere. Just follow these tunnels. They will lead you straight to the meat packing factory.”

“Wait, what do you mean that you just find another body? You make it sound like you’re just going to try on another fucking coat. Nobody can swap bodies.”

Jacob smiled at Dave before turning to Amber before sighing. “Girl, listen to me. I was wrong earlier about the powers ignoring my pleas. They have been listening, I can see that now.” He pointed to Amber’s grazed knee. “There is fresh blood in the air now. They know that their quarry is hurt. They’ll not give up. They don’t often get the opportunity to consume red meat. The locals keep the families fed but they daren’t give them fresh flesh, they don’t want them to get used to the taste.”

Jacob then spun around, pushed past Dave and sprinted in the opposite direction.

“Oh God, no, Jacob, come back!” Dave tried to run after him but Amber already had her fingers dug deep into the fabric of his jumper.

“Let him go,” she shouted, pulling him back. “Come on, let’s get out of here. He’s made his choice. Don’t let him sacrifice his body for nothing. You know that we’ll see him again.”

“Oh my God, you honestly don’t believe that mountain of bullshit that he just spun. Do you?”

“Does it matter what I think, Dave? He fucking believed it.” She grabbed both his shoulders and pushed her face into his. “Time to go!”

He nodded then looked over his shoulder one last time. Dave finally saw what had been running them down for the last few minutes. He couldn’t see it clearly because it was still too far away and the low flickering yellow light fucked with his perception, but he knew for a fact that it wasn’t human. It was more apelike. The thing slowed down and finally stopped moving. It crouched down and watched the tramp slowly approach the huge creature. Jacob then stopped himself and turned around.

“Get out of here!” he screamed.

The creature jumped, it obviously wasn’t expecting the man to make any noise, unless it was just confused. Dave remembered what Jacob had said about them relying on sound to hunt and moaned in horror as the snarling creature charged and dived on the man. Dave grabbed Amber and ran. He glanced back again just once to see that a dozen more creatures had joined the ape creature. They seemed to be fighting amongst themselves; there was no sign of Jacob.

Dave choked back a sob, “Oh fuck,” he panted. “I still can’t believe that he went and did it.”

“They’re not following us now.”

“Not yet anyway,” muttered Dave. “I’m not sure how much more of this madness I can take.”

“You can stop feeling sorry for yourself. You told me that we’re going to Alton Towers tomorrow. Just remember that.”

Dave tried to answer and found that he just couldn’t get the words out, not without breaking down in tears. It seemed like hours ago since he had said those words to Amber. Back then, he had honestly thought that their troubles were almost over. Dave increased his speed, keeping up with her. The noises coming from those creatures were eventually dying away but he had no illusions that this evil town had finished with them just yet. There would be something else even fucking worse around the next corner.

The tunnel then came to an abrupt end. “Oh, fuck!” he cried, falling to his knees. “This can’t be happening.” Was some fucker up there taking the piss? He didn’t mean his last thought. Dave shut his eyes, counted to three and opened them again. It hadn’t worked, their path was still blocked.

“Now what do we do?”

Dave shrugged. He dug the torch out of his back pocket and shone the light at the rock-fall. He approached the blockage and tried to pull one of the stones free. He gave up after a few seconds; this wasn’t going to shift. He knew for a fact that they hadn’t passed any other turnings or junctions since coming down those steps. Yet, there must be another way out of here; those other fuckers must have come from somewhere.

“Dave, I’m sorry, I really can’t take any more of this,” uttered Amber. She dragged herself over to a large stone by the wall and sat on it.

How could he offer any comfort to Amber when he felt exactly the fucking same as she did? Dave shone the torch along the side of the walls one last time, hoping that maybe that had missed something. He sighed heavily. Who was he kidding? Why couldn’t he just admit to himself that this really was the end of the line?

“I don’t want to die down here, Dave.”

He hurried over and knelt down in front of her. “Let’s have a look at those knees,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “They don’t look so bad.” He licked the palm of his hand before gently wiping away some of the dried blood. “You have beautiful knees, Amber.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Dave moved his hand away from her and paused. “What the fuck?” the palm of his hand cooled down. He licked his hand again and pushed it between her legs.

“Dave?”

“Bloody hell” he gasped, I think I can feel a breeze. Amber stand up” When she jumped over his arm, he press his hand flat against the wall. “Oh, this is just unreal!” he giggled. He crouched down and traced his fingers along a gap between two stones, smiling when his finger went straight through. He placed his hands between the stone below, counted to three and pushed, shouting in triumph as the stone fall forward, leaving a hole.

“Oh my god, it’s a bloody opening!”

Dave nodded, trying to keep his relief in check. “Yeah, we might have just found our way out of here.”

Amber crouched down next to him and helped to clear away the loose stones. “I think there’s enough space now for us to crawl through, Dave.” She grabbed his head and kissed him. “I’m having a hot dog then an ice cream before you take me on any rides, sweetheart. I’d better warn you now, I’m not cheap.”

He pulled away from her kiss. “That sounded wrong on so many levels, Amber.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.” Dave pushed his arm through the opening, shivering, cold; it was cold on the other side of this wall. “Let me just check this out first.” He stuck his head through the gap then swung the torch beam around, growing excited as he saw a rough path leading from the gap in the wall. He pulled the rest of his body through, then crouched down and helped Amber through the small hole.

“I don’t get it, Dave. Why didn’t Jacob tell us about this hole?”

He shrugged, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that question. He started to push the fallen stones back into the gap. “To be honest, I have no idea. Perhaps he just forgot or maybe he didn’t know about the cave in.” He shone the beam of light at the blocked up hole. It wasn’t as good as before but he figured it would fool them as long as they didn’t inspect it too closely. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

She shook her head. “Don’t ask me that. I have no idea how I feel, apart from very tired and feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest every time I hear a noise.” She put her hand over his. “I do know that if you hadn’t have been with me, I wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“We’re almost out of it; I know we are, sweetheart. Come on; let’s see where this leads to.” He started to walk away from the blocked up opening, thankful to see that they were now going uphill. Dave went through all of Jacob’s conversations in his mind. Until now, his words had never truly sunk in. That man had said more than once that he’d been around for centuries. As improbable as it sounds, Dave began to wonder if there could be a grain of truth in what he said. After all, how was it any more fantastic than what he and Amber had experienced tonight? “Amber, Jacob did mean every word of that, didn’t he.”

She nodded. “He knew what awaited him, sweetheart. What do you think?”

“I think that I might have been wrong and there is a chance that we’ll meet the man again.” Dave stopped when something crunched under his foot. He shone the light onto the path and saw that he had just crushed a small bone. He didn’t want to know what animal that bone came from, if it even was an animal.

“I hope to fuck that those things back there don’t know about this tunnel. I’m not sure I’d be able to out run them if they did find out where we went. I think my body is about to fall apart.”

He turned and shone the light behind them. “I’d like to think that those creature were about as intelligent as a dog, or maybe a cave dwelling ape?” he replied. “They’d probably bash a rock on your head but I don’t think they’d be able to hide an opening with a bunch of stones.”

“Neither do I. So, who the hell did it?”

“I honestly don’t have a bloody clue. Maybe it was Jacob. Maybe it’s been there for decades, even longer, I don’t suppose it matters. The roof was getting lower. Dave took off his jacket and used a sharp stone to cut the thread around the sleeves. He ripped them off and handed them to Amber. “Here, you’d best put these over your knees. I think we’ll be doing a fair bit of crawling for a bit.”

Dave kissed her. “Wait here.” He ran forward until it became impossible to stand up straight. Dave shone the torch, trying to see if he could work out how long this tunnel was. It was no use, he couldn’t see more than a few feet.

“Could you see anything?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I don’t think it’s that long.” He walked as far as he could before he had to drop to his knees. As he crawled, he did notice that the tunnel was getting a little lighter. Dave turned off the torch and looked behind him, relieved to find that he could make out her outline. “We might be close to the top, April.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. We did seem to go down very far, Dave. We haven’t been travelling upwards that long.”

The light was getting brighter, it felt wrong though; it wasn’t sunlight, it felt colder, like harsh light from a spotlight. Dave then grinned when he saw what looked like the way out. Oh yeah, as he crawled forward, the mouth of this tunnel became more definite. This tunnel led into another cavern but this one was huge, from where he was, Dave could see the shape of the cave, it looked exactly like the temple that they had first entered. As far as he was concerned, that must mean they were close to getting out of here.

His smile fell off his face when Dave reached the lip of the tunnel. “You have got to be fucking joking,” he whispered, gazing down at the cavern floor. The floor was full of sleeping people. At least, he guessed they were people. It was hard to be sure. They looked more human than the things they had encountered in the other tunnel but not by much. These reminded Dave of Neanderthals. He took a deep breath and looked back at Amber.

“We might have a problem here.”

Amber pushed past him and stiffened. “Shit.” She looked at him. “It looks like they are all asleep,” she whispered. “Look, we need to get past them, we have no other choice.”

Dave nodded. He gazed at them again; he saw a pile of bones, close to the edge of the sleeping men. “Wait here,” he said. Dave climbed down and quietly walked over to the bones, trying not to make a single sound. Before he bent down, Dave looked over at the bodies, listening to the snores. He guessed that there must be almost a hundred of them on the floor. Dave grabbed a skull and held it close to his face. At first, he thought it was human until Dave saw the ridges above the eye sockets. These must prey on the sub-humans. Oh hell, they had just crawled through their path to the human’s hunting patch. Oh shit, these fuckers were as bad as the other. He didn’t want to think how they’d react if any of them woke up to find him and Amber in the middle of them. They needed to get the fuck out of here. Dave gestured to the girl, relived to see her carefully picking her way towards him.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, feeling her shivering. Christ, this was just so unreal. He felt like they were tiptoeing through a minefield or a field full of sleeping lions, jumping at every snore or unexpected noise.

Dave paused when Amber tapped him on the shoulder. He followed her pointed finger and grinned at the sight of a set of (a set of what?) leaning against the cavern wall. There was another tunnel over there. He pushed forward trying not to rush. Dave grabbed the ladder and pulled himself up onto the ledge above.

He turned and helped Amber onto her feet. For the first time since this nightmare began, Dave saw that she was actually smiling. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Look behind you,” she whispered.

Dave turned and smiled as well. There was another tunnel cut into the rock but this one was different. Dave saw tiny ceramic tiles stuck to the four walls. It looked like a entrance to an underground railway station. What ever it was, he knew that the freaks behind them hadn’t built it.

“Time to go,” he hissed, grabbing her hand. He led her over to the entrance and into the tunnel. Unlike the other one, this wasn’t so long, even from the mouth, Dave could make out the shape of an archway cut into the wall. “I think we’re nearly there!”

Amber nodded, “Oh God, I can see a door, please tell me that’s a door.”

His excitement cooled down a little when they reached the end and noticed that they were no longer alone. He gazed down at another skeleton leaning against the wall. Unlike the others in the cavern, with one was definitely human. There was a sword, still gripped in one of its hands. He bent over and wrenched it out, feeling a little better now that he had a weapon.

“I think it was a Roman.” Amber whispered.

He nodded. He didn’t have a clue as to why he wasn’t all that surprised to find the skeleton of a Roman centurion down here.

Dave used the ancient sword to force the door open and he jumped back in surprise. Of all the views that he expected to see, Dave did not expect that. “You have got to be shitting me!” He looked at Amber. “I’m not dreaming this am I?”

Amber shook her head and kissed him. “No, it’s not a dream. Come on, we can’t stay here.”

He led the girl through the door, looking in amazement at the shelves crammed with tinned food. This was somebody’s pantry or storeroom. He saw another door at the end. This one was just a plain door, one that he would expect to see in any house. Dave shut the door behind him, not surprised to find that you could no longer see the metal door.

“Look at this, Dave.” Amber had picked a tin of beans off the shelf. “It doesn’t run out until next year.”

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s see where we are.” He took her to the other door and reached for the handle when he jerked back. “Amber,” he hissed. “I can hear someone on the other side.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jackie felt as though she’d circle. Her new hiding place was as distasteful as her spot behind the two women, only without the chains. Not that it made much difference, she couldn’t go anywhere. She looked up through the wooden floorboards, a few inches from her nose, trying to breath in as much fresh air as she could. Jackie wanted to cry out, she wanted to throw up. It was just no good. No matter how much clean air she forced into her lungs, it just couldn’t obscure the stench that surrounded and threatened to suffocate her.

It should have clicked before she burrowed her way under this bandstand in the town’s park. The place was the ideal hiding place all right and by the looks of it, half the town already knew this little nugget of information. Jackie wasn’t alone under here but she was the only one still breathing. Dozens of decomposing animal corpses packed the narrow gap between the boards and the hard ground. Judging by the amount of dry skeletons under here, this place had been in use for decades.

The one right next to her hips wasn’t a dry skeleton. The poor doggy couldn’t have been here for more than a week. Some bastard had tied its paws together with shoelaces before torturing it. She had seen so much horror and wickedness in her time in this town but this was just beyond evil.

Her activities after witnessing her brother’s demise had just blurred together. She felt as though she had spent hours just running and hiding from her pursuers with no end in sight and no way to escape this place, while wondering just how long it would be before her luck finally ran out and somebody did manage to catch her.

Jackie’s good fortune had almost come to a violent end just a few minutes ago. A group of young women had spotted her, trying to break into a garage and had chased Jackie into the park. She had been able to slide her body under here before any of them had time to stop her vanishing. Their attention soon swapped from hunting her down to chasing some terrified boy around the swings. Jackie watched horrified as the women cornered the kid and just kicked him into a bloody pulp. What brought tears to her eyes was that each one of them were laughing everytime they kicked the boy, yet, there was nothing malicious about their giggles. It honestly sounded like they just having a fun night out and murdering boys half their age was the best way to end a great evening.

The girls had gone left the park ages ago but Jackie dare not leave here just yet. A bunch of eight young teen lads had passed by here less than two minutes ago, each lad boasting at how they were better at killing the outsider than any of the others. Like the girls, they saw the process of executing the strangers as just another part of their normal life. She knew right then that Jackie would find no sympathy with any of them; every local was intent on killing them all.

She closed her eyes after promising herself that she wouldn’t start crying again. Jackie was going to get out of here, and if any of those bastards thought otherwise, they’d soon get a taste of their own medicine. Jackie knew exactly how to get out of here, she’d already found out, the hard way, that there’d be no help coming. While evading the roaming townsfolk, she’d tried every phonebox, only to discover all of them were broken. The others like her were no help, if any of the poor bastards were still alive, they’d be too busy trying to stay that way.

What has happened to everybody? They sure weren’t running around like maniacs when she and James first came through the town. Sure, now she knew that the freaks were probably born all fucked in the head but they had kept all their loony tune behaviour locked up. Jackie gazed through the floorboards and at the full moon. Maybe they all just went mental when the sun went down. Jackie had been in the town for a long time but thanks to the two freaks who were permanently mental, she had no idea whether it was dark or light, locked up behind that chair.

Jackie then remembered the police station; they had passed the building on their way into town. They would have facilities to allow them to contact the outside world, of course they would. She could head for that and hope that they hadn’t all gone crazy as well.

Her only remaining option was to just stay hidden under here, lying with the rotting animals, and wait for the sun to come up. Maybe, they would have all changed back into normal people or perhaps someone else had got lucky and had been able to call for help. That was a pleasing thought. Jackie pictured herself waking up to see a beautiful blue sky and sunlight streaming through these boards. Then turning her head to watch flashing blue lights from hundreds of police cars illuminating the park, and smiling as soldiers and armed police were rounding up all the locals, “and blowing their heads off their shoulders,” she snarled.

Something cold dropped onto the back of her hand, she jerked her head around and saw a stream of maggots falling out of the dog’s mouth. They wiggled across her skin and fell through her fingers. Jackie gasped and rolled out from under the bandstand. She wiped her hand on the damp grass, wanting to vomit. Oh, that was just fucking vile. Why was this happening to her? Jackie checked both her arms and looked down her legs, making sure there were no more on here. No matter how many times she checked, the feel of those things crawling over her skin would not leave.

Jackie looked up at the moon, broke down, and sobbed. Jackie felt the tears down her cheeks but made no move to wipe them away. She wanted her brother back and she wanted to leave this hellish place and go home. It wasn’t fair. Jackie dug her fingers into the wet grass, imagining that the dirt between her fingers was one of the locals. Right at that moment, she detected the sound of soft footfalls. There was no way she’d run and hide, not this fucking time. She looked up and saw one of the girls that attacked that poor kid heading straight for her. Jackie saw the look of amusement plastered all over her face; there was no fear whatsoever showing. She would soon show her that was a mistake.

“Come on then, you dirty bitch,” she growled, raising her fists. “You’re about to find out what real pain feels like.”

The other girl just giggled. “I knew it! I told the others that you hadn’t run off.”

Jackie’s stomach slowly turned over at the sight of her companions running out from behind a brick wall. She paused, not believing that she’d been so stupid to think that there was only one of them. She spun around and raced towards the main gates. She could hear them behind her, trying to give chase, they just weren’t able to keep up, her need to escape far outweighed their desire to catch her. As she rocketed out of the park, Jackie turned to see that only two had managed to keep pace.

She ducked behind some bushes when another group of women ran past her. Jackie looked up and saw the town centre full of locals looking behind every bin and shop front. Oh God, this was a mistake, she should have ran the other way. She waited until the two girls who had chased her out of the park had run past before darting over the road, heading towards a discount supermarket. She nodded to herself when she spotted a narrow gap between the two buildings. It was an obvious place to run to but Jackie was hoping that the locals had thought that as well and checked the place out already.

The coast was clear for the moment. She raced towards it, hoping that it would lead into a back yard; there might be somewhere for her to keep low until at least the sun had come up. There were just too many people around for her to try and get out of the town right now.

A large man holding a cricket bat burst out from the alley. She choked back a cry, knowing that this was how she was going to die.

“Don’t even think about screaming!” he hissed, glancing behind Jackie. “Believe me, I’m not going to hurt you, miss.”

Jackie shook her head, her confused and overloaded mind refused to believe the man’s words.

“Fuck, they’ve seen you.” He lunged forward and grabbed her shoulder. “Get behind me,” he said, pulling Jackie over to the wall.

Jackie flew towards the wall, holding out her hands to stop her head from crashing against the stone. What was going on, had she actually found someone like her? She then noticed a police uniform under the man’s heavy coat. “You’re a copper?” The man did not reply, she then saw why reason for his action. Those two girls from the park had doubled back and were walking towards them. The bitches were still smiling; did they not see the big man holding the cricket bat? Were they that arrogant to think that he wouldn’t use it? Jackie moaned, why not? She did not even know that.

“Stay where you are,” he said. “No, scratch that idea, bugger off, the pair of you. I don’t want to use this.”

The girls just carried on walking towards them.

The man surprised the hell out of Jackie by running forward; he swung the bat and slammed the end into the side of the closest girl’s head. Her blood ran cold at the sound. She just dropped to the pavement. The other girl’s face just dropped. She staggered back, before spinning around and running back into the park.

The stranger looked down at the girl, “Oh Jesus, I think I’ve killed her.”

Jackie watched him slowly drag his finger through the crimson fluid dripping off the end of the bat.

“What the fuck have I just done?” He stared at Jackie. “I’ve known her all her life. I…” He growled and swung his arm back.

“Don’t get rid of it!” She cried. “Look, you did what you had to.” She took the bat out of his limp fingers. “I would like to go home please. Please tell me that there’s a way out of this fucking mad town.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we’re trapped in here. The bastards have blocked all the exits.”

“What do we do now?”

He seemed to come out of his trance. The man closed his eyes and rapidly shook his head. “The first thing we need to do is to get away from here, the remaining girl will no doubt be reporting our location as we speak. Come on.”

She followed the man further into the town, looking to her left and right. There were other people in sight but they weren’t watching them. She didn’t get it, why the fuck weren’t they coming after them? Was it because they weren’t skulking about? Jackie didn’t have a clue although she did feel a little more secure now that she was no longer alone. Maybe it was the fact that she had hold of the bat, those fools must think that they were locals too. She tightened her grip around the handle, just praying that one of those nutjobs would realise that they were outsiders and rush towards her. Unlike the man, she had absolutely no conscience in battering one of them to death.

The man suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a wooden shelter designated for smokers, outside a pub. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Look at that.”

Jackie peered around the scratched wooden panels and saw about a dozen people walking up the middle of the road, they all carried shotguns. They were staring at everybody; she guessed that it wouldn’t be so easy to fool these men that they were locals.

“They’ve raided the police station.”

Her heart began to speed up when she noticed two of them peeling off from the rear of the group and started to walk in their direction. It wouldn’t be long before they noticed them hiding in here. The man darted across the carpark, keeping his head down. Jackie followed him when she saw that he was heading for the pub doorway.

He pushed on the door, crying with relief when it opened. The man ushered her inside, followed Jackie and shut the door behind him. He closed his eyes and sank to the floor. “Jesus, I think I need a drink.” The man then raised his head and stared at the girl. “I’m Gavin, by the way. Have you just got here? I don’t recall seeing you around here before.”

Jackie wandered over to the bar, thankful that the place was empty. She climbed onto the barstool and turned back round to face him. “I’ve been here, in your fucking horrible town for months. The reason why you haven’t seen me around is because two of your delightful residents kidnapped me and my brother.”

She watched his face go through a variety of conflicting emotions; the man was clearly in pain. Jackie reached over, pulled one of the vodka bottles off the shelf, and walked over to the man. He was seeing his own town getting pulled apart. Jackie suddenly stopped before she reached him. “Wait up, why isn’t all this freaky stuff affecting you? What makes you so different?”

He pulled the bottle out of her hands. “Isn’t it obvious?” The man took a swig. “I’m not a local, miss. I’m like you, from out of town. I’ve just been here a bit longer that’s all.” The man got to his feet and held out his hand. “I’m Gavin by the way. Under the circumstances, it’s probably best that I don’t say welcome to Cerchester.” He held out the bottle.

Jackie took the bottle, took a swig herself before placing the bottle on the bar. “I should thank you for saving my life. Have you any idea what we do now?”

The toilet door then opened, they both stared at the startled old man coming out. He ran for the door, trying to dodge the pair of them. The policeman grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him to the floor.

Jackie saw that the old man looked terrified. She dropped the bat on the floor, wanting to vomit at the thought of hitting anybody with that. Gavin had already placed the old man’s arms around his back. The old man cried out.

“Gavin! Wait, oh god, I think you’re hurting him.”

The man nodded, “That’s the idea.” He replied. “He’s a local. He’s one of them.”

Jackie rushed over to them, watching in horror as the man started to fit. Gavin released him, stepping back as the old man jerked about on the floor.

“Do something,” she cried. When he didn’t move, Jackie kneeled beside him, trying to remember basic first aid. When she placed her hands on his chest, the man suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes and grinned. Jackie saw something move before crying out as he punched her in the face. She fell back and the old man turned around, he grabbed the bat and swung it at Gavin.

The man dodged out of the way. Their visitor then threw the bat at the pair of them and ran out of the pub. Gavin grabbed Jackie’s hand. “We’d better make ourselves scarce.”

“Oh Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be, come on, I know where we can go.”

Chapter Seventeen

Tony McAllister pushed the chocolate bar into his mouth and ripped off another chunk. As he chewed the chocolate into soft mush, he gazed down at his black walkie-talkie, lying beside him on the school bench. For the first time since the boss had handed it over, the fucking thing had, for once, stopped its chatter for more than a few minutes. Tony was so close to booting it across the pine floor. He stopped chewing when he reached the sweet syrup in the middle. That was fucking gross. Tony spat the mess onto the floor and threw the rest of the bar down as well. He decided that he didn’t like that one.

He leaned over, picked out a chewed up raisin from one of his cavities and examined it. The last sweet to contain raisins was seven bars ago. Tony dropped it, watching the raisin fall into the middle of the mess between his feet. He never actually believed that he’d ever get sick and tired of eating chocolate bars. Tony grinned, he had never eaten eighteen one after the other before. Doing exactly what he wanted was just fucking brilliant. Although, Tony knew that he’d reach saturation point eventually, hopefully not for ages though. He looked at all the wet, brown mess stuck to the polished floor. It reminded him of the greasy, black sludge that he had noticed, gathered around those burning people.

His whole life had been thrown into a tumble drier for the last few hours. Instead of coming out clean and fresh, Tony believed that he was the most dirtiest, evilest motherfucker in Cerchester. Well, the second most, anyway, that honour belonged to their boss. It was strange to think that until he had walked out of the nightclub, Tony believed that his life had gone to complete shit, nothing had been going his way for fucking weeks.

Tony was large for his age. At fifteen, he knew that he could pass for eighteen, easy. He was used to getting want he wanted. His formidable size and mean reputation ensued that nothing was denied Tony. The fear that he saw in people’s face as they passed him gave Tony such a hard on and he was desperate for more.

Tonight, he took the next step. Tony seceded to expand his territory and to venture into the most popular nightclub in town. Common sense told him that he really should have started smaller, like trying for the local pub first. After all, this was adult territory and they wouldn’t like him muscling in. As far as he was concerned, his common sense could go fuck itself. Tony McAlister did nothing by half measures.

The desire to bring this nightclub and the people to their knees just flew out of the window when he spotted that stunning blonde girl, swanning around in that tiny fucking dress. He just knew that he had to have the bitch. Tony had already worked out what he would say to her, it was just the simple process of introducing himself. He had smiled, knowing that the piece of flesh already belonged to him and he was going to spend the rest of this night fucking her senseless.

Tony dug his nails into the bench, taking deep breaths and ordering himself to calm down. Even now, he couldn’t believe that the fat cunt Phil Banks had dared to square up to him. God, the shame still burnt. On his way over to the bar, heading over to his new woman, Phil had accidentally bumped into him. Looking back to the incident, it might have been a better idea if he had just swallowed his pride and apologised to the man for spilling his pint.

Phil was in many ways very much like Tony, the major difference being that Phil was a few years older and he packed a bit more muscle, not to mention that Phil had a few more fights under his belt. Tony’s hormones wouldn’t let it lie and he had made the mistake of telling Phil to mind where he was fucking going.

Looking back at the incident, Tony guessed that the employees must have marked him out as a potential trouble maker as soon as he stepped through the door. Four bouncers had grabbed the pair before any punches were thrown. It so annoyed Tony that he was the one that those cunts had decided to throw out and not Phil. What pissed him off more than anything was watching that girl, his girl, gravitate towards Phil.

Tony had put that big fat cunt right at the top of his list of cunts to fuck over before this night was over. He’d show him what happened to cunts that fucked with Tony. He took another chocolate bar out of his bulging pocket and started to unwrap it.

He stopped the delicate procedure of stripping off the package when he saw the far door open. This was what he had been waiting for. Tony so hoped that his followers hadn’t failed him. He nodded in approval when the three boys strutted into the school hall. His second in command, Zachary Bird had found himself a rather tasty teenage girl. He watched in amusement as he gave the bitch’s left tit as hard squeeze when she started to drag her feet. By the look of hatred etched on her face, Tony guessed that Zack had been doing that little trick a lot.

He continued to follow their progress over to him; their prize obviously hadn’t got the message and wouldn’t stop attempting to struggle out of her captor’s hold. Her exertions were a waste of time as there was no way that the bitch would get free. She was the seventh unaffected cunt that his followers had brought to him now. They were getting very efficient at restraining them.

“Hello there, Natalie,” he said, smiling. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be the one to sort you out. I was kinda hoping that none of the others had caught you.” It did seem to be a bit daft now to think that he had spent over a year lusting after this pathetic girl. He had thought he had been in with a chance too, despite being two years younger than her, he was still better looking than the mongrels she usually end up with. That had upset him; Tony was far batter than anyone and it so fucked him off that this bitch had ignored him for so long.

“Bring the bitch a little closer to me.” When his followers nodded and dragged Natalie over, he just had to suppress a smirk. God, he fucking loved being the Kingpin. Tony wrapped his thick fingers around her long brown hair and jerked her head back. His loins tingled when she cried out in pain. Oh yeah, he so was going to enjoy doing this filthy little tart.

His time with the teacher, though it had been fun, just hadn’t lasted long enough. Andy had caused far too much damage with those knives. The dirty bitch had ended up dying before he had even had the chance to cum inside her. Now that all the excitement was slowing down, Tony supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to vent his lust out on this little bitch.

“Where’d you find her, Zack?”

The blond boy laughed, “Oh, this one was a right slippery maggot. We saw her slipping out of the nightclub. Can you believe that? What a genius place to hide out. Anyway, her luck disappeared when we saw her. It took us a good ten minutes to chase her down but chase her down we did.

A terrible thought crept up the back of Tony’s head and lodged there, refusing to budge. “So, you were in the nightclub? I bet all the lads sniff around your little cunt. Now, tell me, bitch, do you know of Phil Banks?” He silently counted the three, patiently waiting for an answer, when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to tell him jackshit, he back-handed her.

“Oh yeah, she does know the fat bastard,” muttered Zackary.

Tony slowly nodded, he finished unwrapping the Mars bar and bit off the end. This could complicate matters. “Zack, when you say that she knows the fat cunt, what do you mean? We all know him, Zack. Do you mean that he’s fucked her?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean Tony. Our Danny has seen them together a couple of time at the club.” The boy leered at Natalie and licked his lips. “My brother said that they were practically eating each over. That bitch is well up for it.”

Just the gross image of that dirty fat cunt ramming his tiny dick into this pathetic bitch, who was doing her best not to cry, threw all thoughts of Tony shagging her right out of the window. This was just shit; Tony’s fire had cooled all right, but only with this one. What was the point of being king of the jungle if he couldn’t get a decent fuck? To make it even shittier, Tony suspected that they were running out of bitches as well.

He saw the woman jump when Tony’s walkie-talkie crackled into life. His swagger died along with what remained of his lust when he heard the tiny voice of the big boss demanding to know where he was. That fucker was the only person remaining on this planet who could make Tony felt like a little boy again.

Reluctantly, he hurried back to the bench and picked up the radio. He listened to the man ordering him and the others to drop everything and meet Daniel back at the factory. That did make him grin. If the boss was telling his group to go back, he must be asking the others to do the same. Something big was going down. The boss might even have caught Phil and wanted to use the fat cunt as kindling. Oh, he so hoped so. He’d have to ask Daniel if he could light the match. That would be fucking awesome.

Tony looked behind him and ground his teeth together in annoyance when he saw that the others had already decided to fuck her. Two of them were holding her down while Zackary was doing his best to remove her already ripped blouse. “For crying out loud!” he shouted. “We don’t have enough time for this. The boss wants us back, like right now.”

“How is that fair?” spat Zackary. “You did the teacher, why can’t we do one? After all, you made it clear that you didn’t want her.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched the girl punch the remaining boys. They weren’t ready for her to fight back. She wriggled out of their loosened hold and sped out of the hall.

“You stupid fucking, dozy-arsed retards!” he screamed. “Don’t just stand there gawping, go get after the bitch.” Tong jumped off the bench and ran over to Zackary. He placed his big hand around the boy’s throat and squeezed. “I think you can figure out that I’m not very happy with you at this moment.” He watched his face for a few seconds as the skin lost its colour before letting go. Tony slammed his hand into Zackary’s chest, watching the boy tumble back.

“I’m sorry,” he coughed. “Really I am. I didn’t know she was going to run off. I can sort this, I promise.”

Tony dug out one more chocolate bar, noticing that he’d emptied the left pocket. That was annoying; it looked like he was far from reaching saturation point. “Zack, buddy, have you any idea what the boss would do to you if I told him that you were dumb enough to let the bitch go?” At last, he saw fear in Zack’s eyes. Tony knew the boss probably give a fuck about the girl escaping, all he wanted was for everyone to go back to the factory. Tony wasn’t that bothered either. He’d already decided that he didn’t want to fuck her any more.

“Please don’t tell him, Tony.”

The simple fact of the matter was his followers had been very slack and for that, the fuckers needed sorting out. It made sense; it’s what the boss would have done. “If she does get away, it’s you that he’ll punish, Zack.” Tony ran over to the doors and pulled them open. “He’ll probably eat your eyeballs, cut off your cock then set you on fire. Go on then, you’d better get after the bitch.”

He waited for the panicked boy to stumble out of the door on the other side before he unwrapped his chocolate. He took a bite and tried not to giggle. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun tonight. Tony turned around and ran over to the other door on the far side of the hall. He pushed through the double doors and raced towards the school kitchens. Unlike those morons, he knew his school like the back of his hand and he had a good idea where she’d be heading. Tony ran through the fire door and into the small kitchen. He kicked open the fire door and ran into the dark playground. There was only one route available to the girl and he intended to get there before she did. Tony ran past the disused toilet block, smiling at the happy memories of organising dogfights in there last year.

The fire door to the biology labs was right in front of him. Tony got to his knees and pushed his fingers under the crack at the bottom; he counted to three and pulled. He grinned when the broken fire door silently swung open. The caretaker was supposed to have fixed this door ages ago. As far as anyone else was concerned, he had fixed it.

The caretaker had owed him a favour regarding unpaid dogfight bets. Tony had decided to let him off a couple of grand in return for him to leave this door how it was.

He entered the corridor and eased the door shut, grinning at the sound of the girl’s laboured breathing getting closer The bitch was heading for the physics building in the new block. Everybody knew that the fence behind the building was a bit dodgy.

Tony flattened his back against the wall, doing his best to keep quiet. This was going to be so cool! As soon as Natalie raced around the corner, he lunged out and grabbed the side of her head then slammed it into the wall. He looked up and giggled at their shocked faces as his followers raced into the corridor.

“You’re all fucking useless,” he said. Tony frowned as Zackary kneeled beside Natalie. And place his hand against the side of her neck.

“Oh no, she’s fucking dead now,” he muttered glaring up at Tony.

He couldn’t believe this. The soppy bastard had tears in his eyes. “Jesus, man, what it with you? Zack, we were going to kill her anyhow. Why the sentiment?”

The boy jumped up and ran up to Tony. “I wanted to fuck her, Tony, that’s why.”

Tony pushed him back, “For fuck’s sake, man. Daniel is waiting for us. Are you really that lacking of brains or are you now thinking with your bollocks. Come on, for fuck’s sake. There are still tons of girls out in town. We’ll find you another one, I promise.” He grabbed Zackary and pushed him out of the door. Look, I’ll tell you what, we can always come back here once we find out what Daniel wants.”

The other boy shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why?”

Tony laughed. “It takes a while for a body to cool down, that’s why. Did you not pay attention in biology?”

Chapter Eighteen

Phil had kept his temper in check and finished off counting to thirty. It was fucking obvious that whatever was waiting in the darkness wasn’t going to leap out and attack him after all. He slid his knife back into his belt, feeling a little miserable. Phil had been so looking forward to venting his frustration on whatever had been lurking around at the bottom of this shaft.

The sound of splashing water grew fainter. “Yeah, that’s right,” he shouted. “You go run off, that way, you’ll live another day.” Unless he was just a look-out or a scout, those fuckers wouldn’t tackle an enemy, they go get reinforcements. Phil shrugged, so what if they did? There wasn’t much he could do about it.

For the first time since he felt Daniel’s artificial rapture wearing off, Phil started to ask himself the simple question of just what he intended to do now that he had got away from that bunch of losers. It felt a little bizarre to know that everyone that he’d ever known now wanted him dead. He then smiled at that thought. Phil found that he liked the fact that he was now a wanted man, an outlaw. His first proposal was to turn the tables and go after them one by one. Hunt them down, make them hate and fear him. Now that would be pretty awesome.

“Like you’d last the night,” he sighed. Phil couldn’t fault his own common sense. They would catch him eventually, there were just too many of them and Phil had no plans to let them set him on fire.

He couldn’t leave the only town that he knew. There was nothing for him outside of Cerchester. Phil couldn’t be the only one left in town who wasn’t too keen on blindly following that wanker’s commands. Granted, Phil guessed that he was probably the only one strong enough to break out of Daniel’s grasp but there could still be pockets of locals who hadn’t tasted the smoke.

Daniel had burnt dozens of bodies but he couldn’t have reached everyone. It made sense that he should try to find them before the idiots above ground got to them first. “You’re really going to locate them down here, you arse.”

Phil would do just that as soon as he got out of here. He looked up at where he thought the cover was and wondered if he should take a chance at going back the way he came. He chucked the idea away. That bastard and his poodles weren’t going to stop looking for him. No, he needed to find another route to the surface. He looked to his left and then to his right. Both directions led into impenetrable darkness. “Like it makes much difference which way I go?” Phil chose the left, mainly because he thought that was where the splashing went.

Daniel had told his core group that once all the town’s outsiders were no longer a problem, he would feed their craving by bringing more people into the town. Even back then, Phil’s cynicism had thought that idea was bollocks. Cerchester was placed in the middle of nowhere, away from any main roads. Visitors were rare. Phil had also heard from the copper Andy that Daniel wanted to march the townsfolk into the next town. That slimy bastard had his own agenda and Phil believed that the only person to win from this fuck up would be Daniel.

The bastard had to go, there was no other option. Just who gave him the right to waltz into his town and fuck everything up? He skidded to a halt, wait on, Daniel wasn’t even a local, oh fuck, how come nobody had picked up on that? Oh, this was just fucking fantastic. His days were numbered and with that clown out of the way, the town should go back to how it was before, to how it should be. Phil splashed through the dark tunnel, grinning. It was a good plan.

As Phil traversed fewer along the tunnel, he believed that his eyes must have started to adapt to the darkness. He could actually see the back of his hand. Phil then noticed what appeared to be tiny crystals embedded into the rock beside him; they were giving out tiny pinpricks of light. It reminded him of looking up at the night sky. “Okay, so that’s a bit fucking weird,” he muttered.

The light was getting brighter though and he knew that these crystals not only contributed, they were responsible. The tunnel then opened out into a huge cavern. Phil looked up and saw what appeared to be natural light filtering in from the top. “What the fuck is that?” Phil gazed in wonder at the bright light. “This is bollocks, its dark outside.”

Phil tore his eyes away from the light and looked ahead, wondering if he was dreaming. A multitude of grey stone buildings spread out before him, stretching as far as he could see. This place was huge. He didn’t understand any of this. How the fuck could there be another town under the ground? He’d stumbled upon the home of one of the first families, he must have, but they didn’t live in towns, there were just fucking animals.

The town wasn’t empty.  He noticed movement inside a few of those glassless buildings. He watched as a dozen grey emaciated naked people emerged from the buildings and tentatively walk towards him. More of them followed. It didn’t escape his attention that a few of the people carried hefty looking clubs Phil reached around and wrapped his fingers around the knife handle. If these jokers wanted a fight then he’d give them what they wanted..

As they people got closer, he saw that those clubs were actually human bones. They were cannibals. Oh, this was just fucking brilliant. He should have gone the other way or at least tried getting back into the factory.

A young girl pushed her way through the gathered crowd. She too was naked. Phil then noticed, that just like Lisa, the girl had sewn several pieces of human body parts into her skin. He doubted that it was a coincidence.

Phil kept as still as a statue as the little girl got down on all four and crawled over to him. She slowly got back on her feet and walked around him, sniffing at his body, she was acting just like a fucking dog. He knew he could have his knife in his hand within seconds if she did try anything like trying to bite him or something. He didn’t care what the others did to him; there was no way that he would let this brat cut off any part of his body. Before he could decide whether he should slit her throat, she spun around and ran back to one of the men holding a club. She whispered something into his ear before slipping back into the crowd.

Should he try to communicate with these dirty savages? He wasn’t scared of dying but he’d rather stay living. He watched as they all abruptly turned around and dispersed, leaving Phil more confused than ever. He noticed that they all hadn’t gone, one man stayed behind and like Phil, he wore clothes. Unlike him, the stranger’s clothes were just filthy rags; he looked like he spent his life begging for money in the town centre. He had no idea how old he was, he placed the stranger’s age from anywhere between thirty and sixty.

The stranger turned and watched some of the others disappear into the buildings before turning back around and nodding at Phil. He walked a little bit closer to him. “I hope you weren’t thinking of using that on me, were you, friend?”

Phil sighed heavily; he slid the knife back into his jeans and attempted to give the man a friendly smile. If the clown did try something, he was confident that he’d still be able to take him with a weapon; he didn’t look that dangerous. “So, who the fuck are you supposed to be? Seriously, you look like Robinson fucking Crusoe.”

“What is your deviation, friend?”

“My what?”

The stranger pointed at Phil’s chest. “You are town born. You must have a deviation. All in the town are damned, friend, some more than others. Even so, compared to these abominations, we play the game, pretending to be normal while hiding away our dirty secrets. At least, we were until he came back and altered the rules.”

Phil reached for his knife. “I won’t fucking tell you again, friend.”

The man rested his thin hand over Phil’s arm. “Please don’t do that. They are watching you. If you take your little pointy thing out of your belt one more time, they will chop and dice you. The only reason why you still breathe is because the chief’s daughter thought you looked really funny.” The man wrapped his fingers around his wrist. “You had better follow me. Your presence is making them nervous.”

Phil allowed this freaky bastard to lead him through the collection of rough stone buildings; he stared at the faces watching him through the windows, suppressing the urge to stick his tongue out at the skinny fuckers. The freaky bastard was taking him closer to the largest structure down here, a stone circle composed of dark stone pillars. Unlike the rest of this weird Fred Flintstone toy town, this structure looked well crafted. He doubted that any of these brain-dead cavemen could have built it.

As they got closer, Phil saw that right in the middle, there was a man tied to the thick wooden pole, at least, he thought it was a man.

“Impressive isn’t he. The creature belongs to the other tribe. He’s part of the first family.”

Phil shook his hands of the freaky bastard and approached the stones, running his hands down the surface.

“Please don’t enter the circle, friend. I won’t be able to guarantee your safety if you cross the threshold. They don’t approve of people like us interfering.”

“Oh, this is just fucking surreal. I mean, they told us about the families during the conversion but I didn’t actually believe that they were subhuman. Is that what it is?” As the creature leaned to the left, Phil then saw numerous strips of flesh missing from the side of his body. Fuck, the bastards were peeling him like a fucking orange. Phil stumbled back when the creature opened his eyes and stared at him. He stared back, gazing into those big, beautiful amber eyes, seeing a mixture of fear, sorrow and pain. For the first time in his life, Phil actually felt empathy for another creature. He knew that he had to stop this madness, those bastards were eating him alive. He had to stop it right now.

Before he could step into the circle, the other man grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him back. “Don’t even think about helping him,” he hissed.

Phil shook his head, feeling like he had just been drugged. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“They have the ability to strip out your deviation, friend.”

“I wanted to help him.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “As soon as you got a little closer, it would have ripped you into pieces.”

“It’s a meat eater?”

“Of course, creatures do not have elongated canines to eat grass, not that there is grass down here.” He laid his hands on Phil’s shoulders. “I wanted you to feel one emotion that the powers don’t allow us locals to feel. Now come on, we need to get out of here!” He pulled him away from the circle and threw Phil against a stone wall. “Get over it and duck down. Move it, friend.”

Phil obeyed the freaky bastard, shocked at the man’s strength and trying to work out how he felt after looking into the thing’s eyes. As stupid as it sounded, Phil wanted to go back and gaze into those hypnotic eyes one more time. There was no chance of that happening, the other man was right behind him as Phil scrambled over the wall.

He turned and peered over, staring in disbelief at the sight of more of those sub-human things running through the middle of the town, each one carrying a weapon.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The other man smiled at him. “Welcome to the real world, friend. Your games above ground are just a pale imitation of the true source. The creatures are constantly killing, torturing and eating each other. The game plays in an endless cycle. That is a first family raiding party, friend. I suggest that you sit back down. Unlike the others, they won’t ignore you or me, for that matter.”

Phil watched them all file past the stone circle, ignoring their injured comrade, as if he didn’t exist, before he sat back down. “What is your deviation, friend?”

Phil glared at the freaky bastard. “What the fuck are you talking about, why do you keep asking me that?”

The man chuckled. “Oh good grief, you really have no idea who I am. That is really funny.” He then grabbed Phil’s wrist again, this time the touch was not so gentle. “Tell me your fucking deviation, you jumped up cunt or I’ll break your fucking arm.”

Phil bit down hard, trying not to scream out, oh fuck. The pain was so intense. This clown was a lot stronger than he looked. There was something else as well, that voice had sounded so familiar when the freaky bastard added a bit of aggression to it. Oh bollocks, he did know that voice.

“Has the cat got your tongue, boy?”

“I like to hurt things,” he said through his clenched teeth.

The man released him. “Yeah, I thought it would be something like that. You never were the gentle type, Phil.” The man looked at him and grinned. “I remember thinking that when I interviewed you for the job.”

Phil did a double take. He leaned closer, not believing this. Oh yeah, he could see it now, take away the mass of long white hair and add more than a few pounds and he’d be looking at the ex-director of the meat factory. “Alistair? Alistair Harris? Jesus, man. What happened? You were such a big fat cunt.”

Alistair giggled. “My, you really haven’t lost your eloquent use of the English language, boy. Look around you, how many hotdog stands and cake stalls can you see? Okay, you enjoy inflicting pain. That will explain why Daniel’s power wore off so quickly.”

“Yeah, thank you, Einstein, I’ve already figured that bit out.”

“Good for you, so what? You’re going to find others like you and kick Daniel’s arse?”

Phil nodded, “That’s the general plan.”

“There are no more like you, Phil. Well, except me and they won’t let me leave.”  Alistair got to his knees and peered over the wall. “Oh, that’s a shame, they have the little girl.”

Phil jumped up and watched the subhuman drag the girl through the camp. “I don’t get it, why the fuck aren’t the others stopping them.”

“They have to play by the rules, Phil. nobody can break the natural order, just as you couldn’t stop torturing kittens when you were a kid. Nobody that is, except Daniel. You need to stop him.”

“What, by myself?”

The man shook his head. “No there are still some townsfolk not born here in town. Daniel hasn’t caught them all, but he is close.”

He yanked Phil up and led him through the town towards a huge set of stairs. “Even if they did allow me to leave, as soon as I reached the surface, I’d be affected. Hurry, Phil. Sort this mess out. My brother is waiting for me in my cellar; he’ll be all dry now and beginning to smell. He needs me to look after him.”

Chapter Nineteen

It felt like an age had passed, instead of just five minutes. Dave slid his phone back into his pocket and peeled his ear off the door. Nothing beyond this storeroom stirred, he began to wonder if he had heard anything at all now.  It still didn’t give Dave the assurance to prove his theory and actually check.

He turned and slid down the door, stretched out his feet and rested the back of his head against the wood.

“It might not have been someone looking for us, you know.” Amber passed him a tin of corned beef. “That’ll be easy enough to open, the keys on the side. We don’t know where we are, Dave. This could be somebody’s pantry and all we heard was one of the residents getting up to go to the toilet.”

Dave had considered that idea as well.

“Although, I’m probably wrong on that score. Most of the tins in here are out of date. That corned beef ran out two months ago. Sorry, it’s the only one I could find to open; none of the others are ring pull. This place hasn’t been used in years”

“You could have used the sword, Amber.”

She chuckled. “Give over; you prised that out of a dead man’s hand. It’s not exactly clean, is it?”

“Are you for real, Amber?” he asked, smiling at her. “After what the blood muck and shit that we’ve had on us tonight, do you think it’ll make that much difference?”

She placed her hand oh Dave’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am so tired of this, baby. I’m so tempted to just lie down on your lap and go to sleep. This is the first time since this nightmare started that I have felt reasonably safe.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

Dave opened the can, dug his fingers into the tin and filled his mouth with the cold meat. He didn’t care how out of the date it was, he hadn’t tasted anything so delicious in his life.

He silently agreed with Amber, Nobody had been in here for a long time. Dave only saw his and Amber’s footprints on the dust-covered floor. “This town is a maze of secrets.”

“I don’t give a shit what it is,” she muttered. “I just want to leave.”

“I’m sure the worst is over, baby. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost five.”  That had come as a bit of a shock to him. They had been travelling under the town for almost four hours. They didn’t have long to wait before dawn.

He so ached to see the sun again. There had been countless occasions, running, crawling and hiding down there when he believed that he’d die without feeling its comforting warmth on his face. Dave sighed then placed the now empty can on the shelf beside him.

His desire must have been just an emotional response for it made little practical sense. Dave somehow doubted that the presence of daybreak would dissuade the locals from chasing them down. Cerchester had shred its thin skin of lies; there’d be no going back now. The presence of daylight would make their life so much harder to hide from their pursuers.

“Dave, I think we had better get a move on.” She looked up at the food on the shelves. “If we don’t go now, I’ll not want to leave here.”

He silently nodded. She’d already explained that she had to find out if her father was still alive. That maybe the tramp had got it all wrong about the fires and that nearly every outsider was now dead. He could see why Amber had doubts; after all, they had survived, so far.

He leaned across and gave her a gentle kiss. “I’m ready when you are, baby.” His practical side had already told Dave that the chances of her father still being alive was slim to none and even if he were alive, the man would be hiding, just like they were and certainly wouldn’t still be at home, drinking tea and watching telly. They needed to get the hell out of this hell and not waste time looking for anyone else. The longer they stayed in Cerchester only increased their chances of some of those freaks finding them.

If he had been in Amber’s position though, he would have wanted to do exactly the same.

Amber choked back a sob. “I know what you’re thinking, sweetheart, and yeah, I do know that this might be a waste of time. I would understand if you chose to stay here. I mean, you’ve only known me for a few hours, I’m still a stranger to you.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, Amber!” he hissed. “Of course I won’t leave you and I don’t think we are strangers, not anymore. I love you, Amber. It’s that simple.”  Dave kissed her again, not wanting to let her go. “You have got me forever now, sweetheart. Where you go, I go. Look, we’ve just been chased by a bunch of giant meat-eating monkeys and crept through a tribe of sleeping cannibals. These jokers in town are nothing compared to those.”

He got to his feet and helped Amber up. “Let them try to fuck us over,” he growled. “I’ll ventilate the bastards”

He stuck his head against the door, just to be sure. There was still no sound. At least that was good news. Dave grabbed the handle, pulled it down and poked his head through the gap.

Dave had not expected to recognise their new location. “You have got to be shitting me,” he murmured, stepping out into the corridor. He held the door open for Amber while looking from left to right.

“Where are we?”

It had been years since he last in here. “This used to be our favourite place to eat, until it closed down a few years ago. It used to be the only shop in Cerchester where you could grab yourself a half-decent sandwich during your work break. To be honest, I had forgotten all about the shop.” Harsh white street lighting streamed in through cracks in the wooden board nailed across the windows. It didn’t give them much light but enough for him to work out that they weren’t the only occupants in the abandoned shop.

Three pale faces stared at them from behind the counter, now that they’d been seen, all three stood up, the boy on the side of the big kid in the middle, placed his hand over his mouth and giggled.

“I told you, Tony. Didn’t I say that they were hiding in here?”

The boy in the middle nodded. Dave knew this one all right, he was at the club earlier. In fact, he knew all three of the thugs. The whole town knew of Tony McAllister, Zachary Bird and Danny Harlan. These schoolboy bullies ran riot around the centre every Saturday night. He tried to quiet his beating heart, just the thought of what these three evil bastards wanted to do to them now that the restraints were gone, made him wish that he was still in those tunnels. “Aren’t you up past your bedtimes?” he said. “Tell you what, if you fuck off right now, I won’t tell your mums.”

“You’re funny. No really, you’re fucking hilarious.” The large boy pushed the companion on his left in the shoulder. “Don’t just stand there, you fucking moron, bring me that girl.” Tony licked his lips. “You ain’t as pretty as your blonde mate but you’re better than nothing.”

“He’s got a sword!”

Dave grabbed Amber and backed away, keeping the sword held out in front of him. “Well spotted, dickhead. Now, unless you want to see your insides, outside, I suggest you leave us alone.”

“He suggests,” laughed Zachary. “Ain’t that so polite.”

Tony pushed Danny out from behind the counter. “Go on, you cowardly fucker. He ain’t going to do anything.”

Danny smirked. “I might not even hurt you, if you give me your sword, fuckface.” He then snatched up a tin of beans off the glass counter and threw it at Dave before charging him.

Dave jerked to the side and the tin flew past his head, He screamed and lifted the sword, watching the arrogant boy run at him. This bastard wasn’t going to stop, the arrogant boy really did believe that Dave wouldn’t have the nerve to use it. Rage boiled away his rationality and he wildly swung the blade, gasping in shock as the tip of the sword sliced through the boy’s throat. It opened up like a burst pipe, spraying him with thick warm blood. The body dropped to the floor, landing on Dave’s feet. The blood continued to piss out, mixing with the dust.

“Tony, oh fuck,” gasped Zachary. “It isn’t supposed to happen like that.” The boy glared at Dave. “You’re not supposed to kill him, you fucker!”

Dave slowly looked up and found to his utter astonishment that the other boy was grinning at him.

“Yeah, I did kinda notice that the poor cunt has bought it,” Tony replied. The boy gave a noncommittal shrug. “So what of it? He was beginning to get right on my tits anyway. Besides, with him out of the way, it makes my plan a bit easier.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large pistol. He giggled. “Look what Daniel had given me.” He pointed the weapon at Dave. “Oh, it’s real.”

Dave squeezed Amber’s hand, he kept his eyes fixed on that very large barrel and slid his feet out from under the body. The cocky little bastard wasn’t even looking at him. He took a step backwards; the door was only a few steps away. Dave wasn’t going to stay here, that bastard was going to kill him.

“Who the fuck said you could move?”

Dave stopped. He got ready to throw the sword at Tony; it would do a lot more damage than a tin of beans.

“Listen to me, Zack; put away your whinging voice. It’s simple. We both know that it was Danny who let the bitch fucking run off. I only came down hard on you cos, you’re my second-in-command. Look at this bitch. She’s just as tasty. We can share her; I don’t mind a spit-roast.” Tony chuckled. “Come on, Danny would go fucking mental, he had to die.”

Dave pushed Amber towards the door, he knew he was going to die; Dave didn’t care anymore, as long as she managed to get away. He braced himself, waiting for the fatal shot when the door slammed open. The gun in the boy’s hand bucked, it sounded like a bomb going off. Dave screamed out, astonished to find he was still alive. He dropped to the floor taking Amber down with him. Just as a large object flew through the open door, the boy fired again. Dave looked at the large rucksack, lying in front of the counter and crawled back, he had no idea what was going on, he just didn’t want Tony to remember that he was about to shoot him.

He stopped and stared in disbelief as a large man charged into the shop, holding another rucksack against his chest. He threw the package hard at Tony and dived on the lad, wrestling the gun out of his hand. When Tony lifted his head, the man head butted him down.

“Stay there, you little shit!” screamed the man.

Dave didn’t believe it, he knew that voice. It was Phil.

The man swung around, glared at Zack then fired. The back of his head splattered against the wall. He turned, aimed at Tony and pulled the trigger. The man looked so upset when the gun failed the fire.

“That’s a bit shit,” he muttered. Phil booted the boy in the head then leaped over the counter. “Fuck me,” he said, grinning at Dave. “How did you two losers manage to stay alive?” He held up his hand. “Don’t bother answering that, I couldn’t really give a shit. Have you seen anyone else?”

“Why the hell should we tell you anything, you bastard?”

Phil glared at Amber. “Cos if you don’t, I’ll pull off your tits.”

“We haven’t seen anybody, Phil. We’re about to check out Amber’s house.” Dave sighed. “He saved our lives, honey.”

Phil laughed. “Oh please, look at you two lovebirds, where’s the fucking vomit bucket? Well, don’t just fucking stand there, lead the way before any more of the town’s fucktards show up.” He threw the gun over his shoulder. Phil pushed them out of the door. “Fuck, what part of ‘move your arse’, did you two not understand?”

Dave didn’t quite know how to feel. He looked back at the last few hours that he’d spent with Amber, being on the verge of facing death at every turn. He knew that he had changed; this beautiful woman hurrying along the road beside him had changed as well. Phil hadn’t changed though; he was still the same as he’d always been. Dave thought back to Jacob’s tale about the locals being unable to change and saw that now.

“Fuck,” Dave said, lurching to a stop. He turned around and watched Phil glare at him. “What are you playing at, you big, stupid clown? You’re one of them, you lot have been trying to kill us all fucking night!”

He expected the big lad to lose it, to pull out a knife, stab him or at least growl, and throw a punch. Instead, he just burst out laughing.

“In all the years I’ve known you, Dave, that’s the first time that I’ve seen you lose your temper. You ought to do it more often, it’s fucking hilarious.” He turned to Amber. “Tell me we’re close to your gaff, my legs are fucking killing me.”

Amber shook her head. “No, we’re just about here.” She led Dave over to the small terraced house. “I had a feeling that I might be taking you home, Dave.” She kissed him, “Just not like this.”

He pushed open the gate, “Look, do you want me to go inside, sweetheart?”

She shook her head, pushed past Dave and ran over to the front door. He followed her inside, listening to Phil sighing behind them. He just couldn’t work out what his game was, if he had one at all.

Phil caught his breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. The man grabbed the back of Dave’s shoulders and wrenched him back. He tried to scream out to Amber, to warn her but the lad clamped his hand over Dave’s mouth.

“Don’t even fucking dare!” he hissed. Phil pushed him to the floor and lunged forward.

Dave watched Phil push past Amber and race over to the stairs. What the fuck was he playing at? He was already at the top of the stairs before Amber had a chance to pick Dave off the floor.

“Can’t you smell it?” Amber cried. “Oh my god, It’s Lisa, I’d recognise her perfume anywhere. That bitch is in my house!”

Amber raced after Phil with Dave right behind her. He could smell the scent now. He almost felt bad about believing that Phil was about to murder the pair of them as soon as he stepped foot over the door, almost, but not quite. Amber ran through the door opposite. For all he knew, they could be walking into a set-up. Maybe the outsiders were the prize and the locals were killing each other to bag the last ones. Oh fuck, yeah, that made sense. Dave wildly looked around, desperate to find some sort of weapon. A brief scream coming from the bedroom cut short his attempt to find anything. Dave ran forward.

“I thought you’d be behind them, Dave,” said Lisa, grinning. “You fucking little coward.”

The girl held a loaded crossbow in her hand, Dave saw her wave it from side to side. Amber wasn’t looking at any of them. His stomach knotted up at the sight of a small man, spread out against the wardrobe door, covered in sticky blood. Dave saw the man’s throat cut open. He couldn’t fall to the floor because two nails, driven through his hands and into the wood, held him upright. He knew without asking that Amber was looking at her father.

“I see you’re admiring my new sculpture. This is, Amber. I never really liked your dad. The pervy bastard wouldn’t stop staring at my tits. At one time, I even saw him lick his lips and wink.”

Amber shivered but didn’t turn.

“Hey there, lover boy! Ain’t I the lucky girl? I didn’t think I’d find you with these two fuckheads.” She giggled. “Daniel is coming, by the way. He’s so eager to get his hands on you.” She edged over to the corpse. “I think he wants to burn you, Phil. I do like that idea but I want to nail you first.” She laughed again. “Oh, that’s good, how ironic, considering it’s you who wanted to nail me.”

Amber caught her breath and backed away. Dave’s eyes widened as the corpse beside Lisa raised its head. It turned its head and looked at its hand. The corpse pulled the hand free, the nail stayed in place. Amber released a quiet gasp and rushed towards the bedside cabinet. Phil got there before her. He threw the hammer onto the bed, pulled back his fist and punched her.

She flew back, landing at the corpse’s feet. Dave saw that it now had freed both its arms. It bent over and grabbed the girl, lifting her up. Lisa turned to Phil.

“Get this fucking thing off me!”

The corpse dragged her over to the window.

“No, please,” she cried, as it lifted her up. “Put me down!”

Dave watched it press her body against the glass, the window shattered and it threw her out. It turned around and staggered forward. Phil grabbed the hammer.

“No,” shouted Amber. “Don’t you fucking dare, that’s my dad!”

As Dave watched, the wound on the corpse’s neck knitted together, it raised its head and looked at him.

“Hello again, Dave.”

“Dad?”

“I’m sorry, honey, your father’s spirit had left this body.” He winked at Dave. “I did tell you that I’d get back to you.”

Chapter Twenty

Jackie raced out in front of Gavin, her rapid footsteps just eating the metres as they sped along the middle of the road. She had explained to Gavin how she and her brother had entered the town all those weeks ago and theorised that there was a very good chance that the locals hadn’t blocked it. It seemed like a reasonable assumption, it did help that since leaving the pub, they hadn’t spotted a single local. Gavin had no idea where they were and didn’t really care as long as they stayed away.

“We’re almost there,” she whispered, turning around.

He caught Jackie up and pulled her to the side of the road. “Wait,” he whispered. Gavin’s eyes had caught sight of movement in the undergrowth to the left of them. He hoped it was just an animal but he dare not take any chances. He pulled Jackie down to the ground, watching the top of someone’s head appear over the top of a patch of small trees. He looked at Jackie, “They’ve got this covered as well. Wait here.”

Gavin scrambled along the side of the road, staying low and against the bushes. Just as he suspected, the locals had blocked off this road as well, with a couple of cars. He counted five men, all armed, leaning against the two vehicles and no way around them.

He retreated, not too sure what to do now. Gavin crouched down beside the girl.

“You don’t need to say a word,” she hissed. “I can tell by the look on your face.” She looked behind her. “Okay, we find somewhere safe and wait until daylight?”

Gavin nodded and allowed the girl to take them back the way they came. It felt as though the locals had beaten them. He wasn’t altogether happy with his decision to let the girl take them back. He knew, deep down, that given time, they could have got past those men. Gavin looked behind him, feeling as if he was being somehow manipulated.

“Come on,” she hissed, “I know where to go.”

He shrugged to himself and buried that ridiculous notion. There was nobody trying to make him stay in Cerchester, the whole idea was just fucking ridiculous. “Where are we going?”

The girl didn’t answer; she just increased her pace then slipped over a stone wall. “I know where we can stay, Gavin,” she whispered, when he peered over the wall. She helped him over. “Look over there.”

He followed her pointing finger and saw a row of four stone terraced houses, standing opposite a field. Gavin knew exactly where they were. Jackie had described the women’s house already. Jackie had led them back to her kidnappers’ house. If she had escaped any other day and wandered into the station, accusing the two women of kidnapping her, Gavin would have had a hard time believing her story. That was in the past though, before the wool was well and truly ripped from his eyes.

“What the hell are we doing back here?” Gavin didn’t need her to answer that one, her set features had already told him the answer.

“It’s simple. We run inside, chain the bitches up, get what info we can from them and wait for the sun to come up.”

The girl was serious about this idea. Gavin didn’t see anything in her eyes but hatred. She just wanted to make those two women pay for the torment and the suffering that they caused to Jackie and her brother. He didn’t blame her, if Gavin was in that position, he’d want to do the same. “Look, it’s not long before dawn, Jackie. It will be safer to just find an empty garage or something? Look, we don’t know if they’re even in there, or if they have company.”

She turned away. “What’s wrong with you? This could be our only chance of finding out just what the fuck is happening here!” Jackie glared at him. “I want to know why those evil fucks killed my brother!”

Gavin ducked and pulled her down when the front door slowly opened. One of the old women peered around. Had she heard the girl shooting off her mouth? He got ready to run, just in case she started screaming out. The woman left the house and wandered over to a large rose bush in the middle of the lawn. “What is she doing?”

“Ada’s doing a bit of gardening.”

He just looked at the girl. “You made that sound like gardening in the middle of the night is normal.”

She shrugged. “It is for her.” Jackie sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, Gavin, we could find somewhere else to hole up, we might even get out of here. Thing is, if we can get those two old bags to talk, we might find a way to stop more innocent people dying. Isn’t that what a copper is supposed to do?”

Gavin didn’t believe he was hearing this! Jackie had the balls to try and change his mind with the oldest and crudest psychobabble technique in the book. She was right though.

He stood up and ran across the street, not caring if the old woman heard him. She spun around, her astonished eyes finding his, they widened even more when the old woman caught sight of Jackie. Gavin slammed his hand over her mouth, spun her around and pulled the woman tight into his chest; he snatched the snips out of her fingers. “Calm down, lady, and stop struggling.” He pushed the snips against the side of her neck. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“Stab the bitch,” growled Jackie.

Gavin ignored her and leaned closer to the woman. “She doesn’t like you very much, old woman. Are you going to be a good girl, or do I give you to Jackie?” He sensed the fight leave the woman. Gavin pushed her over to the door. “Who’s in the house?”

Ada sobbed. “There’s just me and Betsy, I swear! Please don’t hurt me.”

“The only reason why I haven’t jumped on your head, you old bitch, is cos you let me go,” Jackie snarled.

He pushed the old woman through the door, tensing himself. From what Jackie told him, it was the other woman who would be the problem. Gavin looked around the kitchen, nodding with relief when he saw the inner door closed, “Is the other one in there?” he whispered.

Ada nodded. “It would be best if you just left, she won’t be very happy with you coming here.”

Gavin slid a knife out of the wooden block, placed the snips on the counter and pushed the woman over to the door. “Just don’t get any funny ideas.”

The old woman let out a tiny whimper. He turned around and stared at Jackie. “That means you as well. There’s been enough killing tonight.” Gavin braced himself, opened the door and pushed her through, while lightly pressing the blade into Ada’s back. He was confident that the nasty bitch wouldn’t do anything stupid. She might be the dominant one in this weird fucking relationship but Gavin was convinced that despite her the evil streak running through her body, she wouldn’t want to see him kill her only friend.

The other woman was sat in her chair, gazing at the television. Alarm bells rang when she glanced at them framed in the doorway before she turned her attention back to the television. She leaned her head back and smiled.

“I did have a feeling that you’d make your way back here, little missy. I see you’ve brought a friend as well.”

The girl pushed her way into the living room and marched up to the old woman. “How can you just sit there, acting so calm? Come on, show us your true colours, you’re supposed to rage at us.”

The old woman laughed out loud. “Oh, you poor child. You look like you have been through hell tonight.” She grinned. “Of course, if it hadn’t been for me conditioning you, I suspect you wouldn’t have lasted more than five minutes out there. Hmm, I don’t hear you thanking me.”

Gavin pushed the old woman into her chair and pulled the sobbing girl away from her before she did something really stupid.

“No, child, I’m not going to rage at you, unless you want me to? I can if you want, I mean if you’re missing it. See the favour as a last request.”

Jackie shook off Gavin’s grip and hurried around the back of the two chairs. He watched her bend over and grab the chains. The thought of what these two deranged women had done to the girl made him go cold. The girl fully intended to make them pay; Jackie wanted to put them through what they did to her. “Sweetheart, no, there’s no need to chain them up. They’re not going anywhere.”

Betsy got onto her knees and looked over the back of her chair. “Oh, you’d so like to do that, child. I can see the hatred blazing behind your pretty little eyes. But, the man is right, we’re not going anywhere. Why should we? Ada and I like it here. Oddly enough, I think that we’ll be the only ones left in town when Daniel takes the others with him.” She sat back down and sighed. “Look at their faces, Ada, they have no idea what is really happening.”

Gavin gazed in confusion at the two woman. They didn’t seem the least bit bothered that he and Jackie had forced their way into the house. Ada just sat there, watching the newsreader announce some new war erupting. Jackie walked up to him and grabbed his hand.

“They weren’t like this before, I swear.” She looked at the TV then stared at Gavin. “Oh fuck, this isn’t one of their videos.”

Betsy laughed. “Oh no, this is live, it’s happening right now. Thanks to Daniel, the whole world is becoming just like our town. We’ll no longer be freaks.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” he muttered.

“Of course you don’t, you silly man. This town and the people who dwell here, under and above ground, exist only to keep you in check. We are both the apple and the snake. Without us following our pre-programmed lives, you will all revert to the template. You’ll become homicidal savages. Don’t believe me? Watch yourselves destroy each other.”

Gavin turned away from her shining eyes and watched in disbelief as the grim-faced newsreader announced tragedy after tragedy happening across the globe. Gavin turned away from the horrific scene of a huge bomb blast in Paris and looked back at the old woman.

“You came here looking for answers, Mr Policeman. Cerchester was the last town of its kind. We were holding back humanity’s evil. It’s going to get a lot worse. Just you wait until the ones beneath our feet make their way above ground.” She looked over to the window. “And speak of the devil,” Betsy chuckled. “I’m so going to enjoy this.”

He saw a dark shape run past the window, followed by another. Gavin pulled Jackie away from the two women, “We should have stayed outside, Jackie. That mad old bitch has told the other townsfolk.”

Ada shook her head. “No, it isn’t them. I’m so sorry. Betsy told me to go outside. Child, please forgive me.”

Gavin jumped back when he saw what looked like a huge apelike face pressed up against the glass. “Oh fuck, please not those things.” He pulled the whimpering girl away from the window. He spotted another door and the far side of the living room and ran over to it, praying that those things didn’t have the intelligence to work out how to open a door. He gasped at the sound of a window breaking that came from the kitchen. Those fuckers were already in the house. Over the sound of Betsy’s giggling, he heard the sound of large feet padding across the kitchen tiles.

Gavin spun around, looked out of the rear window, and saw another three of them in the garden. “My God!” he gasped. “These things are even bigger.”

“What do we do?”

“Up the stairs, Jackie and don’t make a single fucking noise!” He turned at the sound of the kitchen door splintering open. Two of the creatures lunged into the room. They saw Gavin, stopped and growled.

“Say goodbye to your dirty girl, Mr Policeman!” cackled Betsy.

Both the creatures spun around, leapt over Ada and landed on Betsy. The woman shrieked as they both tore into her.

He pulled open the door, silently wept when he saw a flight of stairs. He pushed her forward. “Go hide somewhere,” he hissed. Gavin ran forward and pushed the blade into the back of another creature climbing through the smashed window. He tugged it out then ran over to the stairs. That felt so good. When Gavin reached the door, he turned and saw the subhuman monsters were ripping the other woman apart. One of them had pulled the woman’s head back and was tearing out chunks of flesh from her neck. He left them to their meal and ran up the stairs, after closing the door. Maybe they’d leave the house once they had finished with the women.

Gavin gazed down at the blood dripping from the knife, not understanding what possessed him to do that. He shivered, when that feeling of not being responsible for his actions creeped over him again. Jackie stood at the top of the stairs.

“Are they dead?”

He nodded. “They made noise, just like you are. Hush.” Just what would have happened if they had stayed outside? He didn’t even have to answer that one; those things would have ripped them to bits.

Jackie glanced fearfully behind him before hurrying over to the nearest closed door. Gavin gazed at the knife again, wishing it was a gun then ran up the rest of the steps. She opened the door and rushed in. He stopped at the threshold, and began to shake, seeing the smashed window and the glass spread across the carpet. Those things were already up here.

A huge arm reached in through the window, grabbed Jackie and pulled the shrieking woman forward. He could only watch, his whole body numb as the creature pulled the girl out of the window. Gavin slowly gazed down at the knife still in his hand, watching droplets of thick blood fall onto the green carpet.

He now realised that, just like the rest of the inhabitants of this town, he no longer controlled his destiny. His free will had just been a cruel illusion. Gavin shifted his eyes and stared at the huge creature leaning against the far wall. “Is that all I am?” he whispered. “Just food to feed you?”

The huge sub-human took one step closer to him and blinked. Gavin stared into those beautiful amber eyes and felt the last of his resistance leave him. He smiled, watching it open its heavy jaw. Gavin closed his eyes, knowing that this was not his true end.

Chapter Twenty-one

He brought his hand up to his face, unable to stop it clenching and unclenching. The excess life-energy coursing through his body made Jacob feel as though he could run forever. He had forgotten just how good it felt to climb into a new unoccupied body. In reality, Jacob knew that he hadn’t really allowed the knowledge to vanish. The powers had just stripped out the experience. It made sense, really. If they had allowed him to remember just how fucking awesome it felt, he’d be swapping his body at the merest hint of illness or damage to the shell.

The terrified expressions plastered across the faces of Amber and Dave made him feel a little guilty. He so wished that he could pass on some of this energy to them, it would make the last part of their journey so much easier. Even the thug looked a little unnerved at seeing a dead man return to life.

“Right, I’ve had just enough of this weird shit,” growled Phil. He glared at Jacob. “I know you’re not the little tart’s dad. I knew him and you ain’t that bloke anymore.” He peered into Jacob’s eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

He smiled at Phil. “You and Dave stepped over me on your way to the pub last weekend. Dave stopped you from giving me a good kicking.”

“You’re that dirty tramp? Fuck!”

“You wanted weird shit,” said Dave, sighing.

Jacob ran over to the window and looked down at the broken body below him, wishing that he hadn’t killed her. Jacob hated needless waste; he also had the feeling that Lisa might have been able to tell him where the knives were.

“Are you going to tell me or what?”

He turned around. “Phil, this town is a machine. The people who were born here, both on the surface and below the ground are the working parts, the basic components. When the powers gave your species the gift of self-awareness, your primal instincts to rule, murder and obliterate just overcame every other emotion. Your species raged across the land. You destroyed everything then turned on each other.”

“Don’t we do that now?” Dave shook his head. “I ain’t buying this. You only have to turn on the news to see the violence. We kill each other every day.”

Jacob nodded, “Yeah, you do, but the violence it still isolated. Before you roll your eyes, just think of how many humans live on the planet, there’s only a fraction of you who cause harm to each other. Can you imagine every human acting like that?”

“Sounds like our town.”

Jacob glanced over at Phil, “Yeah, and until Daniel took matters into his hands, the violence stayed out of sight.”

He moved away from the window, wondering how much time they had left. “The powers were faced with two simple choices; they could remove the gift or create a controlled pressure point. They refused to admit defeat so they created Cerchester and towns like this one.” Jacob took a deep breath and looked at Dave; the boy believed him. He wondered just how much of this tale he would have believed if he hadn’t already seen the two families.

“What the fuck are those things under the earth?” asked Phil.

“You are not the first sentient civilisation to live on this planet. Like your civilisation, the two before you needed these locations.” He smiled at Amber. “Machines need maintenance. My job and the others before me were to ensure that nothing went wrong and that everything ticked along smoothly. We allowed the components to carry on with their depraved behaviour, safe with the knowledge that as long as the deviations were concentrated here, your species could carry on, living their lives, relatively free from evil.”

“What happened to them?” asked Dave. “The ones we saw.”

Jacob took a deep breath. “Natural disasters, the planet grew colder and two ice ages reduced the species back to primitive levels.”

“What is Daniel?”

He avoided Dave’s gaze. This was one shameful explanation that he wasn’t looking forward to. “That man is, I mean, he was, just like me, Daniel was another guardian.”

Phil shrugged. “So, we kill this bastard and everything is cool, right?”

Jacob shook his head. “If we do that, his Ka will just inhabit another body. One of your friends found a set of knives. The police found them; I thought that Lisa might have had them. It looks like I was mistaken. They are the only tools that will end him. The Powers only bestowed this knowledge when I was between bodies.”

“You mean you had no idea before,” asked Dave.

“Well, it’s not something that they would advertise.”

Dave and Amber ran over to the other desk and started to pull out the drawers. “Wait!” said Dave. “How old are you?”

“Daniel and I were taken at the same time, Dave. We had been sent here to discover why none of the inhabitants had paid tax to the king.” Jacob smiled. “This was King John, by the way. Anyway, we were both caught and killed, we both woke up in our same bodies, armed with the knowledge that a guardian needed to keep the machine running smoothly.”

Jacob sensed movement. He turned around and ran back over to the window. “This is not good. Come on!” he shouted, running out of the room and down the stairs. They didn’t have much time left. Jacob’s face drained of blood at the sight of one of the first family staring into the room. “Oh no,” he gasped. No, not this, not again.”

Phil grabbed a sweeping brush and stood in front of Jacob. “Fuck off, get out of here. I’ve got your back.”

Jacob shook his head. “Phil, they’ll ignore you and me, it’s the outsiders that they’ll go for.”

The hulking monster growled and entered the house, jumping as the door behind it slammed shut. It fixed its gaze on Phil and licked its black lips.

“It’s not ignoring me.” Phil looked around. “Dave, just fuck off, will you and take your loose tart with you.”

He raised the broom and swung it, cracking the pole into the side of the creature’s head. It staggered, shook its head then lunged for Phil. Jacob ran over to the pair, not wanting to watch the carnage. This just was not possible, how the hell had Daniel done this? Those creatures were programmed only to attack the outsiders. “In here!” he shouted, pushing them into the living room.

Jacob and Dave pushed the sofa up against the door, just as he felt the wood shudder. The creature had seen where they went. This door would not hold it for long. “Get to the back of the room!” he shouted.

“What do we do now? We’re trapped.”

Jacob ran past them. “Haven’t you learned anything yet, Amber?” He ripped off the wallpaper both his hands on the far wall, trying to remember the sequence. He moved his fingers along the wall, feeling for the indentations, painfully aware that the creature was making short work of that door, it would be in here any second. He grinned when he felt a distinctive click. Jacob pushed, grinning as the wall slid forward a few inches. He spun around and pushed them through the gap, moaning at the sight of the creature climbing through the shredded door. He squeezed himself through the gap and pushed the wall back into place, just in time.

Dave looked at Jacob. “Oh God, I can’t believe that Phil is dead.”

“Are you serious?” Amber retorted. “A few hours ago, that bastard would have tossed our bodies onto a huge fucking bonfire.”

Jacob wrapped his arms around the girl. “You should mourn him, Amber. He was able to break from his programming, it is something that none of the other above ground were able to achieve. I suspect that it was because Phil was nowhere near as bad as the other locals. I always thought they couldn’t change anymore than a lion will stop hunting. At least, that’s what I thought. Phil sacrificed his life to help you escape. I suggest you think on that.”

The girl pushed him away. “I don’t know what to think,” she cried. “Not any more, oh Jesus, you’re in my dad’s body, that is creeping me the fuck out.”

Dave grabbed Amber’s hand. “I’m so sorry, I should have persuaded you to stay in that storeroom.” He glared at Jacob. “These steps in front of me, don’t say they lead back to those fucking caves.”

Amber moaned.

“There is no way we can go down there again.”

“We have to finish this, Dave.” He started to descend, knowing they had no other choice but to follow. The energy was beginning to dissipate, he wished it would stay for a little longer, he needed the boost to help him complete this and to cover the incredible guilt for what he was leading these two into.

The Powers had only told Jacob enough for him to see that they had never abandoned him or the town. An involuntary shiver went through him when he thought about what else they had told him.

“It’s getting lighter.”

Jacob nodded. Dave was right. “Look, none of the families will be down here, they’re all above ground.” He quickened his pace, not wanting to share his fears with them. Oh, he so hoped he was wrong about this. Jacob stopped at the base of the stairs and gazed into the large chamber, it was empty, at least of living people. He shut his eyes and tried to hold his tears back. The Powers had already hinted of this but to actually witness Daniel’s ‘work’ just turned his bowels to water.

He slowly walked out of the tunnel and into the first family’s slaughter room. They brought their food in here. Jacob looked in horror at the parallel row of several wooden poles jutting out of the ground, a narrow trench was between the poles, the creature’s gutted their food, watched them bleed out before eating the drained meat.

“What the fuck is going on!” cried Dave, walking past Jacob and looking at the occupied bodies.

“This is where me and Daniel died all that time ago,” he whispered. “It looks like he has never allowed the experience to leave him.”

“But, I thought he wanted to set the people free!”

“Nobody can set them free but the Powers. Everyone is going to die, Dave. The man is going to turn this planet into a funeral pyre,” said Jacob. He watched his words sink in. The boy was almost ready for his ultimate betrayal. The sequence was close to termination. Jacob couldn’t stop their final plan, even if he tried. “The first families have dozens or chambers like this one. That maniac will slaughter all of them.” He wished he could stop this charade.

Dave spun around. “Oh no!” he cried. “Where’s Amber?”

Jacob wanted to throw up.

“Amber?” screamed Dave.

The lad raced back up the stairs. Jacob swallowed his fear as he followed Dave, just hoping that the Powers would be merciful. He groaned when he saw the huge shaggy pelted sub-human creature at the top of the stone stairs. It waited until Dave was almost at the top before it pushed its claws into Amber’s exposed throat. Thick blood blasted from the entry wounds splashing against the rock face. Jacob grabbed Dave and jerked him back as the creature pulled the girl’s body into another hidden tunnel. “She’s dead, Dave!”

He was just thankful that the Powers heard his plea. The sub-humans had not allowed his last body to die so easily. “Come on, we need to finish this.”

“It’s not possible, she can’t be gone, how is that fair?”

Jacob turned him around and grabbed Dave’s shoulders. “If we don’t stop him, it won’t be just her, everyone alive will perish.” He dragged the lad down the stairs, hating every second of this. He had no choice; he had to see this out to the bitter end.

He re-emerged out into the chamber, feeling like he was dragging a ragdoll. The bodies hanging off the gutting poles had donated most of their blood. Jacob passed them, not wanting to gaze at their pale faces, frozen in tortured screams. Their agony must have been unbelievable. He tried not to let his feelings blind his rational side. Jacob knew that if these creatures had possessed true self-will, then their punishment might have even fitted their crimes.

“I can’t live without her,” Dave cried.

“Focus that misery and grief, Dave. Turn it into hate. The person who caused this is in one of these chambers. Don’t let her death be in vain. Help me stop him, help me before he kills everyone.” Jacob saw the lad’s fire erupt. “We still have time to stop Daniel before he finishes his plan.”

He saw several faces watching him as he entered the next chamber. Daniel’s next victims were already tied to the gutting poles but the boy holding the curved blade had yet to cut through their flesh. Jacob saw Daniel standing next to a police officer. The other guardian spotted Jacob and grinned.

“Ooh, I see you have a new body. That’s a bit cleaner than your other one. What do you think of my body?”

Jacob took one step towards the boy.

“He has orders to start slicing if you attempt to stop him.”

“Daniel, please don’t do this.”

“Is that it? That’s your whole argument?” Daniel started to laugh. “Oh dear, in all the centuries I’ve known you, why do you never fail to amuse me, Jacob? You are so utterly predictable, so tragic and so devoted to your duties.” Daniel walked a little closer to them.

Jacob waited. Tony was staring at Daniel. Before Jacob could nudge Dave, the lad shot past him and swung his fist into the boy’s stomach. The boy folded in half. Dave snatched the blade and pushed the blade into the boy’s neck.

He watched Daniel’s expression alter; he didn’t rage, the man just laughed. “Well done! I hadn’t expected that one, Jacob.” He took the blade from the policeman and charged Dave, the lad stood no chance. Daniel plunged the knife deep into Dave’s heart. “There you go,” Daniel said, panting. He stepped back after retrieving the curved knife. “There, that’s the end of your silly little scheme to stop all of this. Now, will you let me continue? I’m way behind schedule as it is.”

Jacob walked over to Dave, he bent over and closed his eyes. “Forgive me?” he whispered. Jacob picked up the knife and said, “You don’t believe in the Powers, do you?”

The man shook his head. “You already know the answer to that one.”

“They believe in you, my friend.”  He held the knife out in front of him. “This will end your life, Daniel, it will remove your Ka from this realm.” The uncertainty in Daniel’s eyes lasted for just a few seconds but it was enough to tell Jacob that he knew it was true.

“Don’t just stand there,” shouted Daniel. “go get your fucking knife back!”

Jacob waited for the man to turn before he turned the blade around. “If I go, my friend, so do you. We died together. You were gutted right where you are standing, Daniel. You are about to experience your death again.”

“No, you can’t do this!”

He sighed, feeling the last piece fit into place. “You don’t get it. Our time has come, Daniel. The Powers planned everything. Neither of us has free will. They planned everything.” He looked over at Dave’s slumped body. “They are our replacements, Daniel.  It has all been preordained.” He took a deep breath and pushed the knife into his chest, smiling at the sight of the bright light removing the pain and taking him to meet the other guardians.

Epilogue

Dave opened his eyes and gazed at Amber lying beside him. He slowly sat up and saw another couple lying in a bed on the other side of the room. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his chest. There was no wound, no nothing. It happened, Dave had no doubts, he could still feel the fucker slicing into him.

The others begun to stir, Dave wrapped his fingers around Amber’s hand then leaned over to kiss her. She opened her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.”

“Oh my god, I thought I was dead.”

“You were dead,” said the man from the other bed. “We all were.”

Dave looked over at the him. Dave had seen him around town a few times.

“I’m Gavin by the way and welcome to the end of the world.” He got up and walked over to the window. “It’s about to start, do you want to watch?”

“I don’t follow you.”

Gavin nodded. “It’s okay, the Powers have yet to fill you in. We have been here a bit longer than you. It’s the end of humanity, Dave. North Korea fired three nuclear tipped missiles at Seoul. One of them went astray and vaporised China’s capital city. We’re sitting on the edge of Armageddon.”

“What, I don’t get it, did Jacob fail?”

The man laughed. “Jacob did everything he was supposed to. He wasn’t meant to stop Daniel. The plan was to recruit the next four guardians. That’s us, by the way. We’re going to be caring for the inhabitants of the next town that will be built on this spot. We’re going to look after the fourth family.” The room exploded into white light. As normal light resumed, he saw Gavin sitting on the bed holding the girl.

“There goes London. We have a few minutes before the three missiles heading for this area turn us into radioactive dust. Make these moments matter, buddy. Once the town is ready, the Powers will resurrect us and we’ll be able to start our work.

Parasite

Chapter One

Dan Wilson shuffled in his chair; he instinctively knew that the bitch had swapped chairs yet again. She had given him her seat, the one where half the bloody thread was missing from the underside. He silently counted to ten, thinking of a calm blue ocean without wanting to drown her sister in the still water.

God, his sister’s stroppy attitude really had peaked today, what was her problem? Dan tuned out her diseased whining and concentrated on the important task of spooning the cornflakes into his mouth before they became too soggy.

As per usual, both his parents were going about their daily morning routine, acting as though everything was just peachy in their perfect household. For once, in his life, Dan was grateful that he could not detect any change. Any sign of a knowing wink or secret nudge would have meant that his dad had betrayed his trust and spilled the beans over what happened last night. With a bit of luck, he’d stay buttoned up and let Dan sort out his unholy fucking mess.

The fact that Chelsea had a swarm of bees up her arse this morning did give him a much needed distraction, he might be pissed with her chair swapping trick but at least she was acting true to form, being her usual predictable self. Right now, Dan craved routine and normality.

He was so tempted to lean across the table, fix the mumbling witch with his best concerned moo-cow eyes and ask her if he could help in any way. Her reaction to that would go down in the history books. Hell, she’d probably even fall off her stolen chair in shock.

After listening to her bitch on for a few more seconds, Dan still didn’t have a clue what was wrong with her this morning, knowing her, it could be anything from a cracked fingernail to the fact that her boyfriend didn’t end his Facebook conversation with a love heart smiley. It astounded him that somebody could be so mad at the whole universe every second of the day.

He had once compared Chelsea to a pineapple. Once you hammered through that rough, prickly exterior, you would discover a very sweet but insecure little girl who just wanted some love and affection. Upon reflection, Dan thought his analogy was bollocks and he must have been drunk when he came up with that crap. He smirked, unless it was a rotten pineapple.

“Are you laughing at me?” snarled his sister.

Dan held his sister’s penetrating gaze. The girl’s glare was strong enough to wilt every mate he had. She was very good at them. Dan believed that she probably practiced her look in a mirror. Those eyes didn’t make him wilt, watching her chew on that strawberry just made him think of a stupid, fat cow, grazing on grass. Even so, he wasn’t going to allow her to beat him. “Oh my god, Chelsea, have you seen the time?”

He pointed to the kitchen wall clock behind her, suppressing a giggle when she spun around and caught her breath. Dan so hoped that she wouldn’t have the sense to confirm the time on her phone, that would spoil everything. “Don’t you have a bus to catch?”

The blood slowly drained from his sister’s face. “Oh fucking bollocks,” she gasped. “I’m going to be late.”

“For crying out loud, Chelsea!” growled their dad, “What have you been told about the swearing? Enough with the F bombs.”

“I don’t believe this. Why didn’t anybody tell me I was late?” The girl jumped up, grabbed her bag and rushed towards the door.

“What time will you be home, dear?” asked their mum.

Dan listened to the front door slamming and let out a quiet giggle. He saw his mum hurry over to the kitchen window.

“She’s going to pull your head off for that stunt, Dan. You do know that.”

He grinned at his mum. “Yeah well, she deserves it. Chelsea has turned into a complete spoiled brat recently.” He picked up her half eaten bowl of fruit. “Look at this, she knows how bad our finances are and she doesn’t even appreciate what you do for her. You ought to let her have cornflakes like everybody else.”

His mum walked back to the table and took Chelsea’s bowl off him. “I know how it looks, dear, but you’re only seeing it from your point of view. There’s a lot of stuff going through her head at the moment.”

“Mum, she’s been a bitch for the last three years.”

His dad laughed from behind his paper.

Dan returned to his breakfast, this was a pointless exercise. All it was doing was annoying him. Still, it had been rather amusing watching that hard faced cow, suddenly turn back into a frightened little girl when she thought that she had missed her bus.

He didn’t care if his sister gave him some grief when she got back home tonight, like that would bother him. Hell, it was like water off a duck’s back these days.

It was tempting to hope that his prank had spoilt her day. Somehow, though, he doubted that. Chelsea already had a face like a smacked arse when he first clapped eyes on her dishevelled appearance as he gave her a cheery good morning. Her face dropped even further when he sneaked into the bathroom, before she had time to get in there.

“Can you try not to upset her too much, Dan? I know she’s been a bit hard on you recently but, you don’t exactly make her life easier.”

He stared at the wall clock, trying not to think of just how many occasions this week when she’d given him a hard time.

“By the way, I expect you to put that clock back to its original time before you leave this room.”

He sighed, “Mum, that’s not fair. How do you expect me to play Mr Nice guy when she treats me like something she’s just stepped on?” He watched her take the fruit bowl over to the counter top. “Come on, she treats everyone like that, including you two.”

His father put his paper down. “Son, you’re seventeen next. Your sister is just a year older than you are. I met your mother at the same age as Chelsea is right now.” He smiled over at his mum. “Just look at that angelic face, Dan, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”

She smiled back at both of them. “Why, thank you, darling.”

“At eighteen, she behaved a lot worse than your sister. Brash, abusive, argumentative, you name it, that little monster made her family a living hell.”

His mother opened the fridge and dug out a Tupperware box hidden behind two jars of pickles. “He’s right, Dan. I never got on with my own mum at Chelsea’s age. Looking back, I really was such a nasty fucking little bitch.”

Dan dropped his spoon into his bowl, shocked at her language. He never heard his mum say the F word until now. She unclipped the lid and poured the fruit into the box. Then put it back into the fridge.

“Like I said, there’s a lot going on inside that mind of hers. Please, Dan, just try to be a little more diplomatic.”

He watched her close the fridge door. “Mum, what did you just do with her breakfast?”

“Son,” said his dad, leaning forward. “Your beautiful sister demands fresh fruit every morning, all lovingly cut up with your mother’s fair hands. That stuff is expensive, so, she gets cheap frozen fruit from Lidl. We just don’t tell her.” He shrugged. “What she didn’t eat this morning will appear in her bowl tomorrow morning.” His dad picked up his paper and leaned back on his chair.

“No way,” he said, giggling. “That has got to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. How come she never figures it out?”

“It’s probably because, she never eats more than a couple of strawberries. If Chelsea is really hungry, she might nibble on a raspberry.” Her mother flashed him a sly smile. “Besides, there’s no reason for her to suspect anything. I’m her mother and she just knows that I would never do anything so deceitful.”

“Everyone has their secrets, son. You of all people should know that,” said his dad from behind the newspaper.

He looked over at his mum, watched her pull out Chelsea’s chair, and sat opposite him. She placed her hands on the white tablecloth, palms down, with her fingers spread wide. The woman fixed him with her most condescending face and sighed.

“Honey, is there anything that you’d like to say to me?”

Dan couldn’t believe that his dad had gone and betrayed him. He had promised that he wouldn’t speak a word, that their discussion was just between the pair of them. Then again, considering what he had just uncovered regarding his parent’s hidden talent for duplicity, why the hell should he even be surprised by this? Dan matched her gaze, wondering if he’d be able to trust the pair of them ever again. “Mum,” he said, pausing for breath. “There’s a bloody good chance that I have lost my job.”

She waved away his confession and slammed her hand down. “I don’t care about your bloody job, sweetheart.”

Dan jumped, feeling the guilt slide down his spine when he saw a tear drip down her cheek

“You can get another job anywhere in Colbeck. I want to know exactly what happened in those caverns last night, more importantly, that you really are okay.

He gazed across at his dad who gave him a half-apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, son. She only had to look at me to know that I was holding out on her. I did put up a fight though, lad. In the end, she threatened to bust my nose if I didn’t cough up.” He shrugged. “You have no idea how painful her left hook is.”

Somehow, Dan doubted that. His mum probably just gave his dad one of her famous ‘you will tell everything’ looks. The one she was currently using on him. Dan sighed, knowing that resistance really was useless.

“Me and Sally found a dead body in the caverns yesterday,” he announced. Dan watched her mum’s eyes go wide and wondered just how much of this story she had prised out of his dad. Judging by her shocked expression, he doubted that he had told his mum bugger all, unless she was putting that face on.

“What were you doing down there in the first place, Dan?” His mum took a cup of tea out his dad’s proffered hand. “You work in the gift shop.”

He nodded. “I know where I work, mum. I said, I was down there with Sally.”

His mum nodded thoughtfully before her face broke into a huge grin. “She’s such a lovely girl, Does this mean that you two are an item now?”

Oh Christ, he hoped so, it was probably the only good thing to come out of last night’s disaster. Unless, their boss kicked them both out into the street, then Alison would probably never speak to him again. That would hurt him far more than losing the job in the cavern gift shop.

Looking back, Dan believed that it was a plan that could not fail. He had been trying to get off with Alison for over a month now, with no success. He’d tried every trick in the book, he’d even made some new ones up and it had got him precisely nowhere. His best mate, Colin Grave, thought his latest plan was destined to fail and advised him to give her up. He would say that though, Colin had been trying to get off with the girl for months.

Dan didn’t fancy the lad’s chances though. Although the ticket booth seller did see their tour guide more than Dan did, his chat-up lines were just horrendous. He’d told Colin many times that he could pull a rotten tooth out of a dead horse’s head with his lines.

He waited for the last visitors to leave and for most of the other staff to retire to the canteen before approaching Alison. “I need your help,” he hissed.

The girl sighed, “Dan, I’ve told you a million times already I’m not go…”

He stopped her before she had time to finish her sentence. “Yeah you’ve said, a million times. It’s not that, Alison. Like a dizzy sod, I’ve gone and left my phone in the caverns.”

She shrugged. “What can I do about it? Go see Mr Calhoun. He’ll get the keys for you.”

This wasn’t going as he planned. “Alison, come on, he’ll just tell me to wait until the morning. You know how awkward he can get. Please? Come on, I know you have a spare key.”

“So, you think it’s perfectly okay for me to put my job at risk?”

He stayed quiet, waiting for the realisation to hit her. Dan was probably the only person who knew the girl had her own key to the caverns. He’d spotted Alison going down there a few times when she thought nobody was around. Dan had no idea why but he had always intended to find out. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Her whole posture suddenly changed. A terrified young girl suddenly replaced the untouchable ice-queen that not one lad in the village had been able to melt. “Oh fuck, you know about the keys! Please, don’t tell anyone?”

He had not expected that outburst. Dan almost told her there and then that his phone was still in his back pocket and she was right about him trying to ask her out. Looking at her face, somehow, he felt that if he did, the girl really would never speak to him again.

She pushed past him and silently hurried through the building. Alison stopped as they reached Colin’s domain and looked back at him.”

He saw with some sadness that her ice-maiden face was firmly back in place.

“If Mr Calhoun catches us down here, he really will sack the pair of us. If that happens, you have no idea what I’ll do to you, Dan Wilson.”

She reached the gate and unlocked it. Dan imagined what he’d do if his phone suddenly went off in his pocket. He hadn’t thought this plan through correctly, the damn thing was still set to ring. Fuck, it would be disastrous if one of his mates chose this moment to ring him.

“Where did you leave it? I hope you know the exact spot, there’s no way that I’m spending too long in here to look for your stupid phone.”

His hand unconsciously grabbed the small box in his other back pocket. Right now, he just knew that, like his other plans, this one would not work, if anything, Alison would just slap him before leaving Dan down here. The ring would have to stay in his pocket. He’d just have to pretend that he’d found the phone and get out of here. Dan would be hitting the local pub a bit earlier tonight.

“It’s not far from here, Alison. Thank you for doing this, by the way. You have no idea how much this phone means to me.” He didn’t receive a response, not that he found that too surprising, she barely spoke to anyone. “Alison, I’ve found it.” He bent down and pretended to pick it up. His subterfuge was wasted on her, Alison hadn’t even noticed. The girl was too busy staring at an opening in the wall.

“If you’ve got your phone, shine the light at this for me,” she whispered. “Holy fuck, that is so weird, there should not be a hole here.”

Dan rushed over; he pulled the phone out of his pocket and activated the light. He passed Alison his phone, taking the opportunity to stand next to the girl. Her sweet scent of perfume sent his hormones into a frenzy of activity.

The girl’s frightened yelp, that immediately killed his desire. Dan followed the beam of light and saw a large pile of skeletons, stacked in an untidy heap in the corner of the cavern.

“Oh my fucking god,” She gasped. “Wait here.” Alison gave him back the phone. “I need to get the boss.”

Dan’s mum stood up and placed the cup in the sink. “You dad already told me how Mr Calhoun reacted, something about the bones being prehistoric and having to bring in some museum experts?”

“That’s what he said,” Dan replied.

“Well, there we go,” she said, smiling. “There’s no way either of you will lose your job. I’ve known that Thomas Calhoun since school. This will make his whole year.”

“Why?”

His dad laughed. “Calhoun is a money grabbing bastard, that’s why. This will bring the tourists to his caverns in droves.”

“Come on, you,” said his mum, addressing Dan’s father. “You promised me a trip to the market today. Make sure you lock up the house, Dan.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Don’t you worry about anything, sweetheart.”

His parents left the kitchen and shut the door. Dan picked up his both spoon and dropped it into the bowl as the shakes started up again. Dan hadn’t told his mum or dad the full tale. Nobody knew what else he had found in that previously hidden cavern, not even his co-workers.

He waited until their car had left the driveway before reaching into his pocket and bringing out a large gold ring. This wasn’t the one he intended to give to Alison, that one was sill in its box in the pocket of his work trousers. This one and come from the finger of a corpse.

As soon as Alison had left to get the boss, Dan tentatively walked towards the bones, his morbid fascination was too great to ignore. Before he reached the first dusty skull, something else took his attention away from the rotting pile of ancient bones. To the left of where he stood, noticed a tiny crack of jagged light shining through the wall. He swung the light over to the wall and could just about make out what looked like the outline of an archway rising up about three feet off the floor.

The section of the wall just slid in when Dan placed his fingers on it and a sudden burst of cold air, stinking of rotten meat breezed past him. Dan blinked and the next thing he remembered was looking down at a large body, bound in fraying cloth.

Dan had no recollection of what happened next. He just remembered opening his eyes and blinking at the harsh white light coming from Mr Calhoun’s torch. He was standing a few feet from the pile of bones holding something in his clenched fist. Dan had no idea why, but he neglected to tell either of them about his additional discovery.

He pulled dropped the ring on the table and stared at the thing, in disgust. He needed to get rid of it. There was something about this old piece of jewellery that sent ice-cold shivers along his spine.

Chapter Two

Georgina Higgins tapped the horn, feeling like such a heel when the old lady in front of their Land Rover, jumped. Her pity soon switched to annoyance when the woman in the middle of the road snapped her head around and gave Georgina a hateful glare. She watched the old woman shout off a string of silent obscenities before continuing her slow journey across the road.  She clamped her mouth shut, to avoid returning a torrent of abuse. As if it was Georgina’s fault that she suddenly decided to step out into the middle of the road?

For the tenth time since climbing into the car, the archaeologist wished that she had listened to her good sense and not let that annoying husband persuade her from accompanying him on this pointless assignment. Georgina glanced into her windscreen mirror and watched him continue to pour through the beige folder.

Aside from the man’s scribbled notes and reference material, the folder contained about a dozen photo printouts. Georgina thought that her husband had just found out he had six months to live when he rushed into her office earlier on and threw the photos on the desk in front of her. He excitedly explained that some cavern owner had stumbled upon an earth-shattering discovery and they just had to check it out.

As he continued to study the photos, William hummed some monotonic noise, stopping every so often to catch his breath or to change the octave. He hadn’t stopped making that irritating humming sound since they left the museum carpark. William always did that annoying noise when he was overly excited. When they first met, thirty years ago, Georgina thought it was so sweet how he made such a silly noise whenever something excited him. At the time, she thought that is was his most endearing feature. Now, it just got under her skin and made her want to slap William around the back of his head with a blunt instrument.

“William, I’m trying to concentrate here. All I can hear is that stupid noise.”

He looked away from the photos. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling at her. “Am I making that noise again? Oh dear, I don’t realise that I’m doing it most of the time. I can put the radio on if you like?”

The gazed back down and within a few seconds, his humming started again. Was he doing it on purpose now?

“Have you even considered the possibility that these could be photoshopped?” Georgina had spent a whole hour going through the photos, at first, Georgina had shared her husband’s enthusiasm, but her cynical nature won out in the end. Somebody must have gone to great lengths in digitally manipulating these images. It just appeared to be too convenient. Over the decades, Georgina had read about rare cave finds, of potholers stumbling over a few scattered bones form ancient hominids but nothing before on this scale.”

“Of course I have,” he replied.

There wasn’t a trace of irritability in his tone. His calm and measured approach to life was another feature of William’s that, over the years, had begun to wind her up. No matter what she said to him or how reacted, he just never got angry. The man stayed levelheaded no matter the motivation. Unless, of course, that motivation involved prehistoric bones, then William turned into an excitable boy at Christmas, waiting with baited breath to see what Santa had brought him.

William just lived only for his work, nothing else could get him excited, at least, that’s what she assumed up until a couple of days ago. It made her own discovery all the more painful to take.

“That is exactly why I suggested that you came along. You can conduct your own assessment. Okay, I admit, that I may seem a little overexcited with this discovery but, I’m confident that your balanced findings will help to keep my feet firmly on the ground.”

“That’s it, there no other reason, William?” she replied, trying to hold back the angry tears and trying not to allow her voice to break. “Now that we’re alone, are you really sure that there is nothing else you would like to tell me?”

William just gave her reflection a slight smile and shook his head. “Nothing springs to mind, only that I’m happy to see you back and I think this time together, away from the rest of the museum staff will be good for the both of us.”

She watched him return to the photographs, he resumed his humming. Georgina gripped the steering wheel, watching her knuckles turn white. She had been building up to this confrontation ever since she had found out what the dirty old man had been doing while was she was away in Egypt.

What had she said wrong? Georgina had rehearsed her speech repeatedly. It didn’t make sense, the man should have confessed, he was supposed to blurt out that he had been sleeping with that mucky tart.

“According to the map, the next turn should be the one for the village of Colbeck, Dearest.”

Georgina slammed her mouth shut again, this time to stop herself from calling the fucker every name under the sun. She wanted to stop the car, pull him out of the back seat and punch the bastard straight in his cheating, lying mouth.

It was an open secret that the museum’s new research assistant, Trisha Campbell, was slowly sleeping her way through all of their young, male staff. For the obvious reason, Georgina somehow thought that at least her husband would be safe from her man-eating grasp.

For crying out loud, her William was about as sexy as a rotting tree stump and about as interesting as one too. Who on earth could anybody see in a stick-thin fifty-eight year old balding man? The thought of that young naked body bouncing up and down on him made her want to vomit. Did he make that humming sound while she rode him?

“Don’t miss the turning, Georgina, it’s the next one.”

She should have stayed in Egypt, as she had planned, for another month. By that time, that bitch would have moved on to somebody else and she would have been none the wiser. Georgina indicated and turned into the next street. Georgina would have been none the wiser if she hadn’t found her husband’s phone down the back of the chair. The messages she found on there had shocked her to the very core. More than anything, William’s vivid imagination had knocked her for six. She had always found him to be a very boring lover and had never participated in any of the exploits he described to that woman.

“I can’t tell you how excited I am over this. I’ll go so far to say that we have just uncovered a new hominid species. Judging by their remarkable preservation, this species could have even existed side by side with our early descendants. Of course, we won’t know for sure until we get to the caverns.” William leaned forward. “Just put your scepticism to the side and think about this, Georgina. Just imagine if it really is an undiscovered hominid.”

William laughed, “Oh, I know that the cavern owner will want to take all the credit. He’s a business man, that’s only natural. You know though, as well as I, that we’re the ones who’ll receive the acknowledgment. We’ll be famous throughout the academic world, hell, we might even become media celebrities.” He sat back in his seat and sighed. “There’ll be no more begging for grants, no more brain-draining lecture tours and best of all, no more stuffy second class museum. We’ll be able to do exactly what we want.”

“It sounds amazing,” she said, frantically mulling over William’s words. She had been too eaten up inside to consider the possible outcome if these bones did turn out to be genuine. The humming moron was not wrong. The scientific community would be all over the pair of them. For the first time since yesterday, the woman smiled. She would be able to go back to Egypt to continue the dig. There would be no money worry and that bastard of a husband would be able to screw whomever he damn well pleased. She would be shut of him.

“Hey, sweetheart, I don’t know about you, William, but I could really go for a choccy bar and a can of coke.” It amazed Georgina that her voice didn’t break. That actually sounded as though she meant it. If he could lie and cheat, then there was no reason why Georgina could not do the same. She decided that she could play the dutiful wife at least, until they got the money.

He rubbed his hands. Now that’s sounds like a sterling idea, I don’t believe I’ve had anything to eat since last night, too excited, I suppose.” He glanced at the GPS on his phone. “According to this, there should be a garage on your right.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we get to the caverns first? We’re not that far from them.”

She shook her head, taking perverse pleasure in seeing his face drop. Georgina was just as eager as William was; she decided that upsetting the man, no matter how trivial, had to take precedence. “I’m sure you can wait just a few more minutes,” she replied, pulling into the garage forecourt. “This won’t take long.”

He nodded. “You’re right. “We don’t want to look like a pair of eager beavers.” He unclipped his seat belt and climbed out of the car. “I’ll get these, my dearest. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Georgina matched his smile with one of her own then watched him amble past the pumps and over to the shop. As William pushed through the glass door, she reached around, picked up the folder, and skimmed through the dozen photographs, trying to look for any more evidence that the cavern owner was trying to pull the wool over their eyes. Her cynical side told Georgina that it really was too good to be true. These kind of discoveries only happened in those crappy pulp fiction books that William used to read. Then again, according to her online research, last night, this village was in the middle of bloody nowhere, probably full in inbred thick locals who had still yet to discover mobile phones, never mind expensive image editing software.

She threw the pictures back on the seat. “I could do with stretching my legs,” she muttered.

Georgina unclipped her seatbelt, climbed out of the vehicle and took in a deep breath a country air. She wrinkled her nose, how was this stuff supposed to be good for you? All she could smell was cowshit, petrol and car exhaust.

She leaned over the warm bonnet of the land rover and watched a battered bright red ford turn into the garage. Bloody hell, and she thought that she needed to replace her land rover. Compared to that crimson wreck, her vehicle was in pristine condition. It looked as though it would fall apart any moment. If the rough road didn’t shake off the car parts then that raucous music would do the job.

Georgina could hear that grating too-loud music even before they reached the pumps. It really did beggar belief how none of these youths weren’t completely deaf by the time their teen years ended.

Having no children, was one decision she had never regretted. Seeing those kids running riot around the towns made her wish for a simpler time when the youth stayed out of her way.

“Listen to yourself, Georgina” she scoffed. “You’re not that bloody old.” Come to think of it, wasn’t she very much like that at their age?

Two young men climbed out of the car. She guessed that they were both the same age of around eighteen. As they swaggered over to the pump, one word summed them both up. These guys were trouble. The two currently arguing whose turn it was to fill up, both fitted the stereotypical farm-hand image. She would have found the whole image rather amusing if it wasn’t for the fact that they both looked a little drunk and very mean. Their ugly, abusive language was beginning to overpower that god-awful music.

Georgina wished that William would hurry up so they could get out of here. She was starting to get very nervous. He was still staring at the confectionary selection. What was wrong with the man, how hard was it to pick a single chocolate bar.

She jumped at the sound of a loud whistle. Oh hell, they had seen her. This was all she wanted. William had now disappeared, he must have moved further into the shop. The two men swaggered towards her. Georgina watched them in the reflection of the side window. Bloody hell, the pair of them looked like over-sexed male gorillas. Did they even know how ridiculous they looked? That manly performance impressed nobody. How ironic was this? They were both driving to see the remains of cavemen when living specimens existed right here in the town.

“You’ve got some pretty decent looking legs for an old chick,” said the blond-haired man. “Are you going to turn around, miss? My mate here wants to see if you’re MILF material.”

“Fuck you, Samuel,” replied his companion, shouting over the sound of the blond-haired man’s harsh laughter. “I don’t go for grannies.”

Georgina clenched her fists and slowly turned to face the two men. She stared at the man who had first addressed her, taking in the oiled-stained bleached blue overall, straining against his thickly muscled arms. “Say, you’re not that bad looking for a brain-dead moron,” she replied, smiling sweetly. Georgina watched the guy’s face turn a bright crimson, he obviously didn’t expect her to retaliate. “As for your ugly friend though?” she glared at the dark-haired man, watching the amusement on his face suddenly drop off. “Judging by the way he keeps giving you the doe eyes, I think he’d rather fuck you, Samuel.”

“I’m so going to…”

“Going to what?” she spat, pushing her face into his. “Are you going to hurt me? Going to teach me a lesson?” She watched his anger falter, just for a second. “Do you think the newspaper headline of the local thug assaulting a harmless old woman will be good for your street cred?”

William chose that moment to leave the shop. She saw his frowning expression and silently cursed. These idiots would rip his skinny arms off.

“Can I help you two, gentlemen?” enquired her husband walking past the youth’s car and stopping in front of the large blond-haired man.

“Get the fuck out of here,” spat Samuel, “before I tear your face off.”

“Do you speak to everyone like that?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m her husband and I’d appreciate it if you two gentlemen went about your business. We are on a rather tight schedule.”

Georgina moaned softly, this was unbelievable. What possessed her to act like some trash-mouthed whore in front of these two thugs? Georgina should have taken the sensible option of climbing back into the land rover and locking the door. She held her breath when she saw the large blond-haired man formed his thick hand into a large fist. Her husband continued to patronise the pair completely oblivious to the danger he was in.

“I’ll tell you what, little man. Why don’t you fuck off where you came from and we’ll take your bitchy wife and fuck her tiny brain’s out in the back of my car.” He leered at Georgina. “I bet you’ve never hard three huge cocks inside you all at once.”

William sighed. He threw his purchases onto the bonnet of the land rover. His arm snapped out and she watched in amazement as her husband caught hold of the dark-haired boy’s wrist and savagely twisted it around. The boy cried out in shock. Samuel lunged forward.

“Just one more muscle twitch from you, big guy, and I’ll have to break his bones.” Samuel slowly stepped away from her husband, glaring. “That’s so much better,” said William, smiling. “Now, I suggest you finish your business and leave as quickly as you can. I took the liberty of calling the police before I left the shop. I’m not sure how long you have before they turn up.” He released his wrist and shrugged at Georgina. “They had no mars bars left so I got you a Twix instead. I hope that’s okay.”

Georgina watched him collect the stuff from the bonnet of the car and climb into the back seat. The other car had already screeched out of the forecourt. She stared at her husband feeling more confused than ever.

Chapter Three

The body had not even cooled down yet. Ethan Naylor guessed that the rabbit had must ceased its hopeless struggling just before dawn. He un-slung his rifle, crouched down and ran his black gloved hand along the rabbit’s fur. He clamped down on his excitement, knowing that a true hunter would never allow his emotions to show. Everyone knew that the woodland animals could detect the subtle chemical changes attributed to extreme emotion. He hadn’t finished in here just yet, he intended to take down at least one more animal returning home.

He allowed a big grin to strain the fabric of his camouflaged scarf, it was pretty cool though. Ethan had been after this bugger for over two weeks. He looked down at the mangled leg caught in his wire snare and wasn’t that surprised to see the beast had tried to bite off its own leg.

“Did I not say that you would me mine,” he whispered. Ethan took off the gloves and used his fingers to dig the snare out of the rabbit’s flesh; it took longer that he expected, the loop was tight around the bone. Once he had reset the snare and covered it back up, Ethan brought his bloodied fingers up to his face. He carefully picked off the bits of dead leaf and lumps of grit before he placed his fingers into his mouth one by one. He left the blood on his thumbs and wiped off the sticky crimson residue under his eyes. Ethan nodded to himself, knowing that he had just honoured the dead rabbit’s spirit.

In all the months of hunting in this part of the woodland, Ethan had yet to discover recent signs of other human activity. Being completely alone and at one with nature was the reason why he chose this forgotten area of the woods to hunt. In addition, he had no wish for any annoying kids or nosy dog walker to report him for using his modified air rifle in here.

Ethan knew there were plenty of squirrels occupying the northern area; those fluffy things were practically tame. The rodents had a good life from stealing food from the picnic tables and a few of the town’s older residents regularly came into the woods to feed the little bastards.

He couldn’t help but to pull down his scarf and runs his tongue over his lips. Squirrel made good eating, especially the ones fattened up on picnic scraps. Ethan resisted the temptation to head north, if he faced reality, the chances of him bagging a squirrel down here was slim to none. They never showed their faces around here nowadays, for a good reason, why chance having your head blown off?

Maybe he should forget it and be satisfied with this beauty. Ethan decided to let it hang in the garage before skinning it in the morning. Once he’d jointed the meat, he would try to persuade his mum to curry it. She made an awesome curry. “It would taste even nicer with juicy squirrel flesh,” he whispered. Ethan took his washing line out of the inside of his combat jacket. He tied one end around the large rabbit’s body and threw the other end over a thick branch of an old oak tree just behind him.

There was little point in taking stupid chances. Despite being fairly sure that no other humans would come around here in the short time he was gone, he still had no wish to discover that some dog or fox to come and steal his prize. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” he murmured, hoisting the carcass up into the branches. Ethan looped the end of the rope around the trunk and tied it securely before picking up his rifle and starting towards the more populated side of the woods. “Fuck it, what type of hunter never takes a chance?”

There was one other reason why Ethan avoided to top end of the woods. The three dickheads who dossed about at the repair shop had taken to spending a lot of their time in there. That was so not fair, he might not go into the northern area but as far as he was concerned, it was still his territory. Ethan never ruined their usual haunting grounds, why should try to they spoil his.

“Maybe, just maybe, it’s because they can?” He sighed, knowing that he had hit the nail on the head right there. No idiot in their right mind would dare to say one bad word against those fucking psychos, especially that Samuel Lane. That thug really did have bits of his brain missing. Ethan once remembered watching him knock seven shades of shit out of their PE teacher because the fool had taken it upon himself to embarrass the lad in front of the whole class. Samuel had only been thirteen at the time.

Ethan leaned against the trunk of a tree and jumped as a brown terrier leapt out of a bush several metres from his location. It raced along the path before disappearing back into the dense undergrowth. That had spoilt his adventure before he had even started.

“What did you expect?” he muttered. That was a good question. What possessed to think that he would be able to get some peace to kill a few squirrels? There was nearly always somebody strolling along the path. The squirrels were not that stupid. They knew they were safe up here. Even the owner’s dogs had learned not to chase the little fluffy bastards.

It just wasn’t fair, if Ethan had been able to get to the top of this hill, he’d be in range of the circle of picnic tables. Even without the company of humans to feed them, the squirrels would still be playing around the furniture, secure in the knowledge that they were quite safe.

They would not have stood a chance. Ethan had modified his pride and joy himself. The air rifle was almost as powerful as a hunting rifle. He reached around and ran the tip of his finger down the barrel, suddenly remembering that he had left his gloves next to that tree. “That’s just fantastic,” he muttered. Everyone knew that you didn’t hunt without wearing gloves. Ethan watched the shape of another small dog racing through the trees beyond the tables. It was time to go back before somebody saw his pride and joy.

Ethan stopped in mid turn when he detected the sound of raised voices. He dropped to the floor and slowly crawled to the top of the banking and thrust his head through a low-lying patch of heather. A young man in his twenties, wearing a bright yellow top and jeans was arguing with three very familiar figures. Judging from the excitable yapping coming from the dog, running rings around the four men, Ethan presumed that Mr Yellow top was the dog’s owner.

Ethan winced in sympathy when the inevitable happened and Samuel swung his fist into yellow top’s face. The man staggered back and fell to the floor. Ethan winced again, everyone knew that Samuel had a powerful punch. Thankfully, the others didn’t run forward to put the boot in, they just stood there and laughed as if it was the funniest sight in the world.

Yellow-top picked himself off the floor and beat a hasty retreat. “There’s no shame in knowing when you’re beat,” Ethan whispered. The three men called out some vaguely intelligible threats before stepping back onto the path and walking towards where he laid hiding. Where were the bastards going? He started to panic. They weren’t supposed to venture away from the main paths.

Ethan wasn’t too thrilled with sharing his woods with the dog walkers but at least they were predictable. They stayed in the populated areas. He slowly scrambled back down the banking, keeping his eyes fixed on the approaching men. He did not like how this situation was progressing one bit.

Samuel suddenly stopped in the middle of a clearing. The man dropped to the floor and lay on his back, resting his arms behind his head.

“This will be just fucking perfect,” he said, laughing. “Karl, you greasy fuck, you can go get the beers.”

“Why do I have to do it?”

“Cos I fucking said so, Karl, don’t piss me off again.”

“Why the fuck didn’t we bring them with us?”

“Cos!” shouted Samuel. “Just do as you’re told. For fuck’s sake, it’s not that far to the car, you soft puff. Besides, they are my fucking beers; you ought to be thanking me for letting you have some.”

This was Ethan’s worst nightmare. They had crossed the line by encroaching on his territory. How long would it before they drank their own weight in ale and decided to go on a bit of a ramble? Ethan had to find a way of getting rid of them.

“You could always pretend that they are squirrels.” There was no way of suppressing his rapid heartbeat as Ethan mulled over what was going through his mind. He took his pride and joy out of its sleeve and watched Karl Briers mutter his way back towards the main entrance. Samuel had ordered his other goon to collect some wood. “Oh just great,” he whispered. “Now they’re going to set my kingdom on fire.”

Ethan lay down and pulled his pride and joy into his shoulder, watching Samuel sneer at Alex Corvin, when the goon brought back an armful of rotten branches. The scope brought the blond man’s ugly, rough face into sharp focus, making Ethan feel as though he was right next to him.

If he were next to him, Ethan would have to show Alex the correct method of building up a fire. That dickhead was making a right mess of it. Maybe they wouldn’t be burning his woods down after all, they would never light that in a million years, not that they would be here for that long.

He pulled the barrel down inserted a pellet and snapped it closed. “It’s now or never,” he whispered. Ethan wasn’t worried of discovery, lots of kids in the village owned an air rifle, there’s no way the blame would come to him. He rested his finger on the trigger and took careful aim. Besides, who would be mental enough to shoot Samuel Lane?

Ethan fired; giggling as his pellet slammed into Samuel’s pockmarked cheek. The man howled in agony. The last image Ethan saw before he hurried away was Samuel clutching his bloodied face and Alex running over to the man.

“That’ll teach you,” he muttered, running as fast as he could, through the woodland. He saw that as a perfect way to end his expedition into the wilderness. That fuckhead will now stay where he belonged and leave his precious woodland alone.

Ethan could still hear the man rage as he neared his tree. The gloves were still there, that was such a relief. He picked them up and started to undo the knots, thinking of how good this rabbit will taste.

He suddenly stopped, the blood in his veins froze solid when he caught that crazed psychopath howling Ethan’s name.

“That is not fair!” he gasped. “That bastard isn’t supposed to guess my name.” Ethan wildly looked around the foliage, trying to see if he could spot the bastard. He couldn’t be too far away, that manic voice sounded like he was almost on top of him. “Oh god, I am so dead.”

His rabbit crashed into the leaf-litter as the rope slid through his numb fingers. Ethan crouched down, feeling hot tears running down his cheek. That Samuel and his two brain-dead goons really will beat him to death.

“Does he know where I live?” Ethan was pretty sure that the bastard had no clue. He picked up the rabbit and slung it over his shoulder. If he didn’t know, then it wouldn’t take Samuel too long to find out. There weren’t that many houses in their village.

“I could live right here, in the woods,” he whispered. “That dumb fucker would never find me.” It did sound like a reasonable idea, at least until Samuel had find somebody else to torture. Ethan nodded, warming to the notion. It wouldn’t be that much of a transition, he practically lived here already. Ethan had camped out in these woods lots of times before.

“This could really work.” Ethan leisurely caressed his pride and joy’s long barrel. If that fool did try to look for him in here then Ethan would take great pleasure in giving Samuel another cheek wound. “I may even put one in his eye.”

People like that Samuel only understood brute force. He caught sight of Alex Corvin’s dark blue jacket and ducked down, behind a bush. He thought the goons would have given up there search by now and buggered off back to one of the village pubs to plot their revenge and, in Samuel’s case, lick his wounds.

How was he going to leave now? Ethan had to collect all his gear before disappearing. The other exit took him miles out of his way, close to the next village, almost five miles away. Ethan had no problem with walking back, he knew for certain though, that a passing patrol car would stop and ask about the suspicious looking leather case slung over his back.

He watched the goon bash a patch of brambles with a thick branch. They sure weren’t in a hurry to leave just yet.

“I know you’re still in here!”

Ethan almost dropped the gun in shock when he saw Samuel’s bulky form step out from behind a tree just in front of where he was crouching. He was so close; Ethan could smell the bastard’s cheap aftershave. He hadn’t spotted him though, thank fuck.

The man slowly turned in a tight circle. “If you do the honourable thing and come out from where you’re hiding, lad, I’ll probably only break your arms. Or you could stay where you are hiding away like some cowardly fuckhead and I’ll just find out where you live and kill you in your sleep. I might after fuck your mum to death as well. Don’t even think that I won’t, Ethan, you have known me a long fucking time.”

Ethan ground his teeth in fury. How dare he accuse Ethan of being a coward. He was a warrior. Samuel was the cowardly bastard. It was so tempting to let his pride and joy have one more cosy chat with Samuel’s face.

The goon spun around, muttering to himself as he made his way towards the woodland entrance. Samuel had obviously decided that Ethan wasn’t going to allow him pull off his arms. His mum raised no fools though. That Samuel and his idiots would just wait by the entrance for him to come out.

He had no choice, Ethan just had to go the other way. There was no way on this planet that he would leave his pride and joy in the woods. He then remembered another route, Ethan looked behind him at the ancient trees, if he went that way the woodland gave way to some fields.

“Fucking hell, I could go that way!” he said, grinning. He had stopped using that route a couple of months ago when the owner set his dog on Ethan. After enduring the traumatic experience of finding that Alsatian’s sharp teeth cutting into his thigh, he vowed never to go that way again.

The old bastard used to live in the old cottage that butted the fields. Ethan had forgotten all about him dropping dead last week. No bugger would spill any tears at his funeral, saying that, nobody would turn up anyway. Apparently, the word in the village was that the new owner’s wife was a bit tasty.

He waited until the last of those goons were no longer in sight before getting up and sprinting through the trees. As Ethan’s feet pounded the floor, he remembered that those caverns ran under here. The entrance to Colbeck’s not so famous tourist attraction was directly under the south-end field, about half a mile from that cottage.

With a bit of luck, he would be able to scramble down the banking and run through the carpark without anyone seeing him. If Ethan stayed to the shortcuts and did a bit of garden hopping, he would be back home five minutes later.

He reached the edge of the woods and watched a couple of grazing cows in the first field. Ethan decided that it was a good plan. All that was left now was to somehow explain to his mum what had happened. Samuel might come around and get a mouthy with his mum but he’d soon discover his mistake when she clocked him one. He wasn’t the only warrior in his family.

Ethan leaped over the dry stone wall and walked through the wet grass, ignoring the cow’s curious gazes. He did feel a bit guilty about putting his mum in this situation but it couldn’t be helped. She’d understand, he hoped.

The village skyline appeared over the horizon. It didn’t make that upset to know that it was unlikely that he’d see it again for a few days. Ethan stopped by the edge of the field and looked down into the Cavern’s customer carpark, sighing when he saw movement down there. He caught his breath when Ethan noticed it was that fit lass who worked as a guide.

He licked his lips, Ethan wouldn’t mind hiding in her bedroom for a couple of days. God, that girl was so tidy. He’d never understood how such an ugly fucker of a man was able to help create such a desirable angel.

Ethan felt his rage build up when Ethan remembered what his mum had hinted regarding her family, specifically, what her dad did to Alison when he got drunk. He hoped to god that it wasn’t true. “I’d protect you, baby,” he whispered. Ethan knew she was still unattached and had a few fantasies about asking her out.

He saw a figure approach her. Ethan recognised the lad; he’d seen him around the village a few times. Dan wasn’t a bad lad, a bit of a show off though. Ethan’s jaw fell open when he saw him place his arms around Alison’s waist and kiss her, could this day of his get any worse?

Chapter Four

He clearly saw the green glow of jealousy rage in his eyes when Alison took his hand. Dan could not care less what Terrence thought. As far as Dan was concerned, the best man, namely him, won.

“I’ll go get the drinks in, shall I?”

Dan barely heard Colin’s disgruntled request. His whole attention centred on her hand, slowly caressing his thigh. Oh Jesus, where had this girl been his whole life? More to the point, just where had she learnt how to please a man? Dan would love to meet her teacher and shake his hand, then again, maybe not. He wasn’t he was so in love with the thought that someone had experienced the joys of Alison’s body before him.

Her hand stopped by his pocket. She leaned closer and ran her tongue over his earlobe. “Dan, let’s slip out right now, while he’s buying the drinks. I know of a few secluded spots around the village where we won’t be disturbed.”

The last member of their quartet had just walked out of the gents. Dan watched him look over at their table. He gave them a strained smile before making his way over to Colin. “I don’t think either of them will forgive me for this.”

Alison squeezed his hand. “Don’t let it worry you. Colin’s a good mate, I suppose but I would even think of him as boyfriend material, “and as for Terrence Corvin?” She pulled a face. “Oh my god, there’s no way that I’d he think of him in that way. The lad’s such a weird little creep. “You ought to hear what his sister says about what he gets up to in his bedroom.”

Terrence worked at the body repair shop with his older brother Alex Corvin and two other lads. He was on nodding terms with Terrence’s brother and Alex’s mate but that’s as far as it went. The whole village knew of their reputation as troublemakers.

“You have no idea what I can do with the tip of my tongue,” she purred. “Come on, Dan, let’s go right now, I need to feel you inside me.”

Was he imagining this? Dan turned to look at his new girlfriend and saw lust in those mischievous looking green eyes; he tried to picture that cold fish from just yesterday and just couldn’t believe that this was the same woman.

“Will you two fucking love birds just cut it out?” said Colin, slopping down Dan’s beer on the table. “You’re making me want to throw up. Can’t you do all that giving into each others eye somewhere in private?” Colin sat down and picked up his own drink. He took one sip and grimaced. “Fuck a duck, the water in the canal tastes better than this.” He glared at Terrence. “We should have gone to the Drop Kick. I fucking hate this place.”

Dan bit the inside of his cheek when he felt Alison’s fingers massaging his crotch. Why was he still here with these two losers? He placed his own hand on top of hers. He so needed to leave.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, Colin,” said Terrence.

“Don’t give me that innocent look. It is your workmates who taken it upon themselves to picket our fucking local.”

“I might work with them, but they ain’t my mates.” Terrence picked up his own pint and took a sip. “Look, okay so the beer is a bit shite but it is strong stuff.” He grinned at Colin. “I’m telling you, after another couple of pints, you won’t give a shit about what it tastes like.”

Alison moved her hand towards Dan’s pocket and he stiffened. His ring was in there. Dan entwined is fingers with hers and moved her hand to the side of his thigh. He felt the desire just flow out of him like a leaking hot water bottle. Dan gently squeezed her hand once, sighing when she returned the gesture.

“What are they doing outside the Drop Kick?” she asked.

Colin put his pint down. “Oh yeah, I forgot you were too busy eating Dan’s face to notice. I’ve already said, They’ve formed a picket.”

Terrence sighed heavily. “For fuck’s sake, Colin, they’ve just asking a few questions that all.”

Colin laughed. He leaned forward. “Dan, you ain’t going to believe this. You ain’t going to believe what Ethan’s done. He’s only gone and shot Samuel in the face.”

“Good,” spat Alison. “It would have been better if they killed the fucker.”

Dan gazed dumbfounded at her. He had had no idea Alison hated the bloke so much. “What’s he done to you?”

“His dad drinks with my dad,” she replied. “That and other stuff.”

Alison picked up her drink. Dan was dismayed to see that the ice-maiden had made an unwelcome appearance. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Some of the frost melted and she kissed him on the nose. “It’s nothing, Dan, I promise.”

Colin coughed into his hand. “Before you two start smooching again, I think it’s time you told us exactly what you saw in the caverns.”

Dan shrugged and sighed. He should have known this question would appear tonight. “We’ve already said what happened. The boss hasn’t fucking shut up about it all day either. Believe me; you’ve heard everything a million times already.”

“That’s bullshit, there must be something that you’re holding back and don’t give me that lost phone story either. I’m not buying that one.”

A thin sheen of translucent mist obscured Dan’s vision. Through this mirage of scarlet shade, he watched Colin’s mouth open and close in slow motion. Dan could not move any part of his body. He continued to observe his friend’s fishlike movements, while feeling a spot of heat that spread across his skin.

He screamed out in agony as he felt his whole body suddenly burning up. Like a tap, the pain just vanished, leaving him feeling as if he’d just been put through a wringer. Dan discovered that he could move again.

“That’s bullshit, there must be something that you’re holding back and don’t give me that…”

“All right!” Dan growled out. “You don’t have to say it again.”

“Say what again? Dan, just how much crappy beer have you had?”

“He’s drunk on love,” quipped Terrence.

Alison jumped to her feet and stared down at Dan. “I can move again.”

“You as well, Alison?” Dan pushed his hand into his pockets and held the ring tight. He had no idea what had happened just then but he sure as fuck didn’t want it to happen again, feeling the warm metal against his skin, helped to calm him down. His anxiety and confusion just drained away, leaving him as empty as Colin’s pint glass. Dan felt so good, almost stoned.

Do you want to feel like a god?

He slowly nodded, thinking that Colin was talking to him. Dan had no idea what the clown was talking about unless it was the start of a joke. He hoped so. Dan enjoyed a joke.

This bitch wanted you to fuck her and yet you chose to spend your time with these two infantile fools? Perhaps you are not what I require.

What the fuck was happening to him? He found that he had lost control of his movements. Both Terrence and Colin were staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. He would have shivered if he had been able. Perhaps he had lost it.

So, you two lumps of hot flesh want to know what I found? What I really found?

Terrence’s face broke into a smirk. “Did he just say hot flesh? Colin, is he coming onto us now?”

Dan had said nothing; he seriously began to freak out. What the hell was going on here?”

I’m talking about forgotten trinkets and gem stones. I am talking about gold coins and precious metals. I can see the naked greed behind your dim-witted little eyes. There is another chamber behind the sacrifices.

He felt his hand squeeze the ring even tighter. Dan wanted to scream out in pain as he felt the sharp metal prongs breaking his skin. The hand pulled out and hovered over the table. The fingers opened and the ring rolled across the wood before clinking against Terrence’s glass.

The feeling returned to his body with vengeance. Pins and needles attacked his arms and legs. Dan stretched out and thrust his arms up into the air, groaning. He saw Colin pick up the ring and stare in amazement at the piece. He wanted to tell the lad to drop the bloody thing before it possessed him as well.

“Alison? Is what he says true?” Colin passed the ring to Terrence.

“I saw no other chamber,” she replied, looking curiously at Dan.

“This must be worth a fucking fortune.”

Alison turned Dan’s head to face her. “Is this true.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I suppose. There was something beyond that chamber.” He closed his eyes, feeling like his brain wanting to leak out of his head. “At least I think so, I must have blacked out or something.” Dan put his hand over hers, feeling like someone squeezing his heart when she pulled her hand away.

“What the fuck are we still doing here then?” said Terrence, rolling the ring across his palm. “Let’s go have a look.”

“I agree,” said Alison, glaring at Dan. “We’ll have to break in but I’ve got a key to unlock the cavern gate.”

Dan felt her pull him out of the chair.

“On the way, you can explain what the fuck you are playing at.”

There was no way he would be able to answer that. Dan wasn’t sure what was going on. Alison pulled him across the lounge, towards the pub doors, the other two were already out in the street.

Where had that voice come from? He looked at the ring held tight in Terrence’s hand. A green gemstone caught the white light from a passing car headlight. He already knew the answer to that question.

He just wanted to sleep; Dan’s befuddled wits could not take in this situation. Closing his eyes and letting his whole body rest just had to be the best option. Was this even his body? Dan watched his feet stumble along the road as Alison pulled him along, she was speaking to him, asking Dan lots of questions but it all sounded like gibberish.

It really didn’t feel like his flesh, wrapped around his aching bones, as if Dan was wearing three large coats over a lycra body suit. The gibberish increased in volume as the others joined in. Dan just closed his eyes and smiled as the noises abated.

“Is he okay?”

“Dan, is there anyone in there, buddy?”

“We just leave him in the carpark until we get back.”

“Don’t be stupid, Terrence. He’s the only one who knows where the other chamber is.”

He felt harsh white light against his eyelids. Dan wondered if it was morning. His mum would be calling him down soon for breakfast. Chelsea would already be there, scowling at everyone and tucking into her defrosted berries.

“Why is he smiling?”

“Take the torch out of his eyes.”

What were his friends doing in his bedroom? Dan opened his eyes and saw Alison’s concerned feature looking back at him. Shit, the events in the pub flooded back, at least some of them did.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I think so.” Dan looked past Terrence and Colin and saw they’d brought him to the caverns. “Did you carry me?”

“No, you walked just like the rest of us,” replied Alison. “Only, you weren’t quite yourself.” She took his hand. “I’m sorry for getting mad earlier.” Alison wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You need to believe me; I honestly had no recollection of that other chamber until tonight.”

I’ve heard of things like this before,” said Colin. “If you left me alone with a pile of skeletons inside a cavern. I’d probably go fucking loopy as well.”

“How do we get inside?”

Dan watched Terrence pull on the door handle. He scowled before peering through the window. He turned around and cast his eyes to the floor.

“Is there a back entrance?”

Dan shook his head. “No, there’s just a couple of fire doors around the back of the building.”

Terrence scooted over to the edge of the carpark and came back with half a brick. “Then, there’s no other choice.”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid!” hissed Colin. “We can’t break in.”

Terrence glared at him. “Yes we can.” He looked at Alison. “Did you say there were some experts turning up in the morning?”

She nodded.

“Then they’ll find the stuff and we’ll have lost out. Come on, man. You’ve already told me that the building isn’t alarmed. What can go wrong? Colin, you heard what Dan said. Just think about what you could do with a ton of cash.” He leered at Alison. “The chicks would be all over you.”

Colin gazed at Dan. “That is, if he’s not spinning out some bullshit story.”

“I don’t know,” replied Dan. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.”

Terrence opened his hand. “This is real,” he said showing them the ring. “This alone must be worth a bloody fortune. Come on, guys. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs, I’m not going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I mean, it’s not like it’s really stealing, is it?”

Dan looked at Alison. “You’ve been quiet, if we get caught; it’s not just our jobs that we’ll lose. We could be looking at some serious prison time.”

“What if there is more stuff in there, Colin?” she sighed. “You have no idea what I’d do to get away from my family.”

Terrence grinned. “It’s decided then, we go have a nosy.” He lifted the brick and slammed it into the window at the corner. “Colin, don’t just stand there, give us a hand to shift all this glass.”

“Shouldn’t we be wearing gloves or something?” Colin asked. “They’re bound to dust for fingerprints.” The lad nervously glanced towards the road. “That sounded a bit fucking loud. What if someone heard it?”

Terrence pulled a long shard of glass out of the window frame and placed it on the floor. “You already work here, you big plum. Your prints will be all over the place already. I’m the only one who’s taking the risk here. So shut up and stop fucking complaining.”

Dan watched them both clear away the glass. He did feel better, almost normal but his memory was still shot to buggery. None of the images that rushed through his head made any sense. He did know that this wasn’t a good idea.

Terrence was already inside, Dan watched him help Colin climb through the window. Alison pulled him over to the building.

“It’s your turn now,” she said.

Colin grabbed his arms and pulled him up. Dan allowed him to lift him into the dark room. He waited for a second until his eyes adjusted to the low light before making his way through the dark foyer. It felt so odd being inside the place where he worked, without any lighting. Alison put her hands around his waist. Dan felt suddenly guilty for not helping her climb inside.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded. “I suppose,” Dan replied, sighing. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Alison unlocked the gate and led them into the caverns. Dan had already activated the light on his phone and noticed the other two lads had done the same. She took the three of them to the hole in the cavern wall and climbed through. Terrence looked back at Dan and grinned.

“Are you ready for the life changing experience?”

Dan followed him inside and just hoped that he wouldn’t be able to find the hidden door. The others would be pissed off but it wouldn’t last. Besides, Terrence had appeared to have claimed that ring. That would bring him some money. That was fine by him. Dan didn’t wish to see the bloody thing ever again anyway.

He moaned softly when he saw the doorway clearly marked by a dim red glow outline. The others saw it too.

That was not there before,” whispered Alison.

Terrence ran over to it, “who cares, it’s here now.” he placed his hand on the rock and yelped with excitement as the stone moved. “Fuck me,” he gasped, “This is better than Indiana Jones.”

The others eagerly followed Terrence inside. Dan stayed away from the wrapped up figure in the middle of the chamber, with his back pressed up against the rough stone. Both Colin and Terrence were walking around the body, picking up various pieces of jewellery, scattered around the body. They seemed oblivious to the figure by their feet; Dan could not pull his eyes away. He choked back a scream when he saw one of its fingers twitch.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he gasped.

Colin staggered back; Dan figured that he must have noticed movement as well. The figure suddenly sat up and dug its fingers into Terrence’s legs. The lad screamed out in complete agony, his eyes bulged in his sockets. Dan caught Alison’s hand and pulled her back when she tried to reach Terrance.

“It’s too late!” Dan cried. A gut feeling told him that they had just lost their friend.

Colin staggered over to the doorway and fell through the hole. Dan kept hold of Alison and followed Colin through, desperately trying not the let the panic grip him. They both fell to the side as a huge figure pushed past the three of them and ran out of the caverns, growling like an enraged bull.

“Oh my god!” cried out Colin. “What’s just happened and where’s Terrence run off to?”

Dan pointed to the pile of mouldering fabric in the other chamber. There was no figure there anymore. “I don’t think that was Terrence,” he whispered.

Chapter Five

Mavis Corvin just could not shift that dreaded fear that she had used too much sugar in the mix. She stared at the dark red glutinous liquid, bubbling away in her saucepan and glanced at the timer. Mavis would have to take it off the heat in a few seconds. It would be a few hours before she knew if her raspberry jam would be a serious contender.

“I’m not too sure if I have done it right, Steven.”

Her husband looked up from his newspaper. “What are you talking about?” he scowled. “Oh, you’re cooking again, I did wonder what you that smell was.”

“For crying out loud, Steven, I’ve told you a million times tonight already. I wished you’d start to pay attention.” Mavis didn’t even know why she was bothering. She watched his head dip down. The man had already dismissed his nagging fat wife.

She moved the pan onto the rear hob and marched over to their dining room table. She sat opposite him and glared at the newsprint.

Her friend, Mrs Briers had just happened to let it slip what her darling husband called Mavis while he got drunk with his mates in the Drop Kick. Not that it came as much of a surprise to her. Steven had little time for anybody these days, especially his wife. He’d had so much trouble trying to find alternative employment after losing his contract at the haulage company. Steven had found the odd job here and there and his cleaning job at the primary school helped but it was peanuts to what he used to bring home.

The man muttered behind his paper. Deep down, Mavis knew that her husband resented the fact that she was the major earner now. He also resented the fact that as long as the bills were paid, Mavis could spend her own money anyway she damn well pleased. “I thought you liked my jam.”

The man sighed. “You know I do, honey, it just seems, well because of the money situation, it just seems a little extravagant to be spending so much money on something you could get from the supermarket for a pound.” He put his paper down. “Mavis, I know for a fact that some of the other wives will be entering ready made jam for at the craft fair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “They wouldn’t dare do that.” The aroma of her cooling jam started to fill the kitchen. The annual Colbeck county fair was the one event that Mavis looked forward to all year. At least she used to. Her homemade jam had won first prize four years on the trot, until last year. That Mrs Naylor had the audacity to enter her own jam and the vile stuff slammed Mavis’s Apricot and plum jam into second place. Rumour had it that the woman was competing again.

Mavis stood up and hurried over to the cooker, breathing a sigh of relief when she found the jam had begun to set. This year, Mavis was determined to take back her title from that horrible woman.

He muttered again and slammed the paper on the table. “Mavis, what are we going to do about Adel?” Steven stood up and walked over to the door. “I’m going to have a word with her.”

“You leave the girl alone,” She snapped. “Okay, I’ll admit that, like you, I’m not too thrilled with our daughter seeing Karl Briers but, she’s old enough to make her own decisions.” She looked up at the ceiling and listened to the faint sound of music coming from her bedroom. “You sounded a bit like my dad just then, Steven. Do you remember how he reacted when I brought you home?”

“That was different,” he said. “I might have been a bit wild back in the day but I was a bloody saint compared that that thug who’s sniffing around our daughter.”

She dipped a wooden spoon and watched the mixture drip back into the pan. It looked like she had not messed up after all; this one would beat that Mrs Naylor’s horrible concoction any day of the week. Mavis watched Steven pace the floor like a caged lion. If she could sort out that woman, dealing with her husband’s bad mood should be a walk in the park.

“Are you sure that there’s nothing else bothering you?”

He shrugged. “Well, I’m a bit concerned over the lads. That should have been home by now.”

Mavis walked over to his chair. She pulled him into it and dug her fingers into his shoulders. “I won’t worry about Terrence and Alex. You know those two. About now, they’ll both be getting drunk with their mates. Like they do every Friday night.” She felt how tense how was. “Come on, honey, you need to relax. That boy is the spit of you, Steven.”

“Who is, Terrence?”

“No, I’m talking about our Alex. It’s uncanny how he behaves like you when we started hanging together. As for our Adel’s new boyfriend, Do you honestly think Alex would let Karl treat her badly?”

“I suppose, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” kissing the top of his head. Steven had never been so concerned over his kid’s behaviour when he had his good job. Then again, the man was never in the house long enough to notice that he actually had kids. “Now, why don’t we go to bed? It’s been a while since we played.”

“What about the kids?”

“Baby, they are not kids anymore, they can look after themselves.” Mavis slid her hand down his back. “We have a lock on our bedroom door, you know.”

Steven giggled and stood up, “I think you have convinced me.” He took her hand. “Your dad never liked me did he?”

She leaned towards him. “No, not really.”

Steven jumped at the sound of a loud crash coming from outside.

“What the hell was that?” Mavis looked fearfully at the outside door. “Shit, I think someone or something is in with the chickens.”

“More like a certain young lad.” He growled. Steven ran back into the dining room and returned a few moments later with his shotgun. “This time, that Ethan Naylor has gone too far.”

“How do you know it’s him?”

He reached for his coat. “It’s always him, that’s why.” Steven snapped open the barrel and inserted two cartridges. “Don’t worry, Mavis. Don’t give me that look. I’m not going to shoot him, I promise. I am going to scare the shit out of him though. It is time that the little bastard found out what happens when he steals things from me.” Steven pulled open the door.

“Why load it then?”

He grinned. “Just in case it isn’t him, that’s why. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a moment.” Steven kissed her gently on the lips. “I’ll be back to sort out my beautiful horny wife.”

She watched him from the door; Mavis pulled her cardigan tight around her body, it was freezing out there. Something was seriously wrong, those chickens were making a right noise. Had a fox managed to get in there? She hoped not. If it were that weird kid in there, at least he’d only make off with one, maybe two of her livestock. A fox would kill them all.

Mavis yelped when she heard his gun going off. “Steven!” she shouted. “What’s going on?” She pushed her feet into her slippers and hurried down the garden path. “Steven, are you alright?”

The blood froze in her veins when she heard an ear-blasting shriek coming from the hen houses. “Oh god!” she gasped, breaking into a run. “Steven!” Mavis stopped by the wide open door and saw the ground swimming in thick, dark blood. “Oh no!”

She peered inside, unable to take in the carnage wrought on the birds. Blood, gristle, flesh and feathers coated every surface, she saw no pieces large enough to identify. Mavis also saw that Steven wasn’t in here either.

She looked back towards the house when Mavis heard the sharp sound of the window shattering. Mavis jumped over the blood soaked ground and ran back towards the house. Her heart was trying to beat out of her chest. What the fuck was happening here? She ran through the door and shut it before going into the kitchen. “Steven, where are you?”

Mavis jerked her head towards the ceiling, somebody up there was moving about. Mavis pulled a knife out of the wooden block and rushed upstairs. “Adel, are you alright in there, sweetie?”

Her door was open slightly. Through the crack, Mavis caught rapid movement on her daughter’s bed, she ran in there when Mavis heard a terrified gasp from Adel. Her daughter was kneeling on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black stockings. Mavis’s mind slipped a gear at the sight of something that bore a passing resemblance to her son’s thick hands gripping Adel’s hips as he slammed into her whilst grunting and growling like an angry dog.

“This can’t be…”

She didn’t have chance to finish her sentence as a pair of thick hands circled her neck. She was spun around and came face to face with Steven. His crimson glowing eyes peered into hers. He opened his mouth and looked into a huge cavern full of sharp, splintered rock. Steven moved face towards her.

“Leave her,” commanded a deep voice.

Steven sighed and turned her back around. The thing that looked like her son pushed Adel off the bed and she fell in a crumpled heap.

“You’ve killed my daughter, you evil thing!” she screeched. Mavis raised her hands, surprised to see she still held the knife. The woman frantically thrust the knife forwards.

The huge thing laughed and danced out of the way. His own hand flashed up and she watched him prise the blade out of her hand then throw it across the room. “You are a feisty one. “I think I’ll keep you too.”

Mavis reeled back as it closed in. The monster wore her boy’s clothes, as he got nearer, Mavis gasped when she saw Terrence’s chest tattoo. This thing was her boy.

It ripped off her dress, then grabbed her hair and dragged her over to the bed. “A simple bite would do the job but I prefer to be more intimate.” He forced her head down. Mavis’s hysteric cries only subsided for just a moment when she noticed Adel resting her head on the bed, the girl’s crimson eyes staring at her.

Chapter Six

From where he stood, Ethan couldn’t see any part of his tent. He should be satisfied with the work he had put into disguising his new home but he just could not work up the enthusiasm to care about anything.

The news regarding the find in the caverns had spread all over the village. Ethan would have done anything to see those bones. He would have sold his mother to be able to spend some time down there alone with the remains of all those hunters. There was little chance of that happening. That Samuel Lane had made no secret over what Ethan had done to him.

Deep down, he guessed that most of the villagers would be privately applauding Ethan for having the balls to go through with something so audacious. Their combined sentiment didn’t exactly help Ethan out of this situation though. It was obvious that Lane wasn’t going to forget this incident anytime soon.

“I’m going to be stuck in here,” he murmured. Ethan sat down on a large rock and used a stick to draw numbers in the damp ground. The woodland didn’t feel like his territory anymore. This place now felt like a prison. He was all alone out here and away from all the activity in the village.

One certain activity that Ethan didn’t want to hear anymore was just how that lucky bastard, Dan Wilson had somehow managed to catch that Alison Clark. He did wonder how this fairy-tale romance would survive when her dad found out that he now had dual rights on his property. Ethan shivered, for the first time since he found out, he rather felt sorry for that lad. God knows how he would behave when he found out about his new girlfriend’s secret life.

He un-slung his pride and joy, removed the cover and pushed the rifle butt into his shoulder. Before he had collected the gear needed for a lengthy trip away from the house, Ethan dug out his new scope and fixed it in place. Unlike his old one, this scope was a little more powerful, he didn’t often use it because it was a bigger than his old one and had the tendency to snag the cover.

He swung the rifle to the left and stopped when he could just about make out the vague outline of stonework through the thick foliage. He grinned to himself. Ethan would have never seen the cottage from here with his old scope.

Ethan made his way along the narrow path that ran alongside the stream, keeping a firm hand on his pride and joy. He intended to get a good look at the new occupants of the cottage, mainly; he wanted to see if the woman was indeed as fit as the others in the village suggested.

There were, or course moral objections to his plan but he soon swept them aside at the thought of some cute mid-twenties woman slowly removing her clothes in front of the window. “You should be ashamed of even considering going down this route,” he muttered, leaping over the stream and scrambling up the other side of the banking. Ethan did feel slightly soiled but, it was harmless enough, more than likely, he wouldn’t see anything.

As he reached the top, Ethan saw all the upstairs lights blazing even without the use of the scope. “Please be in there.” He lifted the scope to his eye and found himself staring at a picture of Spongebob Squarepants

“I didn’t think it would be this good!” Ethan moved his rifle a little to the right. This scope was incredible, he actually felt like he was in that kid’s room. He found the white cot and saw a toddler, rolling a bright blue plastic rattle along the bars. Ethan took the scope from his eyes and blinked. “This is amazing. I wonder which room is hers.”

Before he could look through the other windows, Ethan heard the sound of a door crashing open. A couple of seconds later something heavy smashed through the toddler’s window and dropped to the ground.

“No fucking way!” he shouted. Ethan brought his shaking hands back up and managed to focus in on that shattered window. He moaned when he saw just that blue rattle in the cot. Ethan jumped up and sprinted out of the woodland, he crossed the road and leaped over the low fence and landed in their garden.

He saw the baby lying at an unnatural angle, on the edge of the lawn, close to the family’s car. Ethan opened the barrel and pushed in a pellet then snapped the gun shut. Whoever had done this fucking evil deed was about to die. He ground his teeth in fury, still not believing that anyone could have done such a heinous act. Ethan could not bear to look at that poor child as he hurried towards the front door.

Ethan stopped dead halfway across the lawn at the sight of a huge man, dressed in mud-streaked clothing stepping out from the house. The man’s blazing crimson eyes gazed down at the dead child. Ethan leaped to the side and crawled behind the garden shed. He knew that whatever that thing was, a human was a thing it wasn’t.

He shivered, unable to wrench his eyes away from the red-eyed monster as it slowly walked across to the child. It bent down and stroked his long fingers over the baby’s fragile body. Ethan softly gasped when he saw two more crimson-eyed figures run out of the house. Apart from the eyes, these two did look human. They dropped to the floor and crawled across the monster, mewling like kittens. The thing slapped them away before turning around and running in the opposite direction. The remaining figures jumped up, crying. They spun around and chased after him.

Ethan took one deep shaking breath, trying to figure out what he had just witnessed. He brought the scope up to his eye, trying to see where they had gone but it was useless, all three figures had vanished into the night.

This was serious stuff. It needed fucking reporting. Ethan took a deep breath, feeling his very bones shaking. He leaned his rifle against the shed wall and took a step out into the open, keeping his gaze fixed on the black hills where those three figures had gone. He didn’t have a mobile but he guessed that the owners of the cottage must have a landline. Were those two people the owners? If that was the case, who killed their baby? His head spun with all these impossible questions.

He paused by the door and peered into the hallway, there was a phone right there but Ethan was reluctant to enter the house. He tried to work out just what he’d say to the authorities. “How the fuck would you explain this?” Ethan backed away, deciding to let somebody else ring this one in. There was no way he’d be able to convince anyone that he had anything to do with this. The bastards would take one look at his combat clothing and the rifle. The fuckers would throw him in jail and swallow the bloody key.

Ethan hurried over to the shed, it was better to collect his rifle and get the fuck out of here. “Do you still want to sleep in your tent tonight?” He shook his head, there wasn’t a chance of that happening, he’d have to risk going home, just for tonight. Somehow, he doubted that Samuel Lane would come knocking in the middle of the night. He picked up his pride and joy, even if he did, Ethan would be ready for the bastard.

He couldn’t leave that poor kid like that though, he might have passed away but to leave the kid out in the open was just inhuman. Any of the night creatures could get at it. Ethan shuddered, what choice did he have? There was no way he’d be able to take the body into the house, not without leaving a shit load of evidence for the police to link him with the crime.

The baby would have to stay here. “I’m so sorry, kid.” Honest, I reall…” The words died in his throat when he heard the sound of cracking and splintering coming from the dead child. He staggered back in terror when he saw the body jerking like someone was feeding a thousand volts into the body.

It sat up and swivelled its head until it faced Ethan. Twin spots of crimson lights rooted Nathan to the spot. He watched helpless and immobile as the creature awkwardly used its arms to push the legs bones, sticking though its flesh back inside its body

The toddler jerked one leg forward. It stayed in that position for a moment before trying to move its other leg. Within a few seconds, it had appeared to have worked out a method of moving without falling over. It continued to stare at him, whilst drooling. Long ropes of bloodied saliva hung from both sides of its mouth. Ethan’s legs finally started to obey his commands when the toddler lowered its jaw to show off a mouthful of jagged pointed teeth.

Ethan reached for his pride and joy and stumbled away from the travesty, crying out as the thing turned and started to follow him, it was getting used to its unique method of locomotion and getting faster. He ran for the garden fence, confident that the thing wouldn’t be able to climb over it.

Despite his promise to go home, there was no way he intended to go the road way, those other three things went that way and he sure as fuck didn’t want to run into them. Ethan scrambled over the fence, crossed the road and slipped back into the woods. Now that he was surrounded by a familiar environment, he felt that he could try to at least calm down.

He scrambled down the banking, heading for his tent. He’d need to take his torch before heading home. Ethan thought that his gear should be safe until he came back tomorrow.

Ethan jumped over the stream and turned to look back up the banking. That baby was defiantly dead. He was sure about that bit. He scratched the back of his head, wondering if he might have imagined the whole episode. No, it really had happened.

That baby had come back to life had chased him across the garden. “Well, you’re safe now,” he muttered. Ethan then saw a tiny shape standing up between two trees at the top of the banking. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

It walked forward then threw itself down the slope. “Oh, fuck this!” Ethan shouted. He turned and raced through the trees, not daring to look back. He didn’t need to, the creature was right behind him and catching up. It had obviously leaned how to move fast.

He ducked under a low branch but couldn’t stop himself from tripping up over a tree root sticking out of the hard packed ground. Ethan tumbled to the floor, his torch and his pride and joy slipped out of his hands.

Ethan saw the creature crawling through the undergrowth making straight for his fallen body. He rolled to the side and got back to his feet, crying out in pain when he found that he’d sprained his ankle in the fall. The creature was still drooling and growling. It stopped and lifted its arms up and folded back on its back legs. That thing was about to pounce!

The creature opened its mouth and gurgled in excitement. Ethan limbed over to a dead tree, his eyes catching sight of a large flat rock. He heard the thing leaping for him. Ethan picked up the rock and turned around holding the rock in front of him. The toddler crashed into the stone and fell to the floor, dazed.

Ethan wasn’t about to allow it to get back up. He raised the rock above his head and brought it down as hard as he could onto the toddler’s head.

Chapter Seven

She felt her jaw crack as Georgina expelled the largest yawn so far today. It had been up against some serious competition, she hadn’t stopped yawning all morning, that didn’t surprise her, considering just how little sleep she had managed to get last night.

That fact did surprise her. Looking past the lumpy mattress, thin bed sheet and snoring husband, Georgina should have slept like a log. The bed was sheer luxury compared to what she was used to sleeping in at the digs.

It had been the unsettling and violent dreams that had kept her eyes wide open throughout most of the night. She hadn’t had such vivid dreams since the LSD incident back when she’d been a stupid student. With the bright sunshine warming her back, the whole notion of a middle-aged woman having a nightmare all seemed a little silly. For the life in her, Georgina could not remember a single detail of the dreams, only they scared the crap out of her.

Georgina locked the side door, walked around the back of the land rover, and opened the back to start unloading the equipment. She felt a little resented to having to do all this donkey work alone. Her husband had conveniently asked her to drop him off outside a grocery store before she continued to their destination.

She gazed around the empty carpark, wandering why the cavern owner hadn’t turned up yet. He was supposed to meet them here five minutes ago. “What a great start,” she muttered. Thanks to their unpleasant meeting with those three idiots at the petrol station yesterday, Georgina had already taken a dislike to this shitty little village. What she had experienced since that meeting hadn’t exactly endeared her to this place. The staff at the hotel was surly and unpleasant, the locals just wouldn’t not stop staring at her and now, the person they had begged them to come wasn’t even here, knowing her luck, he probably would even show up.

Georgina pulled one of the arc lights out and leaned it against the car’s body. She shivered, for some strange reason; the woman could not shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She moved away from the vehicle and stared at the building behind her, wondering if somebody was inside and staring at her through a window. From where she stood, Georgina could only see the single window and that was around the side.

Her stupid imagination was playing with her mind again; she blamed that on lack of sleep. Georgina was about to carry on unloading the gear when her ears detected a rustling sound coming from a bank of thick shrubs growing along the side of the carpark. “Who’s there?” she asked. Georgina saw some small branches at the base of the bushes shake and a pitiful whine emerged from beyond the foliage.

It must be a dog or a cat in there, probably looking for something to eat. Her heart leaped when the whine suddenly changed to a deep growl. Georgina grabbed the arc light and held it out in front of her. That definitely sounded like a dog, a bloody big one as well.

The bushes then exploded into a frenzy of rapid movement, she listened with shock at the sound of what she thought was a large dog ripping into a smaller animal then, as soon as it started, the noises ceased and the bushes stopped moving.

Overcome with curiosity, Georgina put the arc light back and slowly walked over to the bushes. She crouched down and parted the branches. She reeled back as the vile smell of rotting meat assaulted her nostrils. She watched what looked like a white cat’s body deflate and melt as the sun’s rays bathed its body. Within seconds, all that was left was a bleached white skeleton. She had never seen anything like that in her life.

Georgina peered into the bushes, staring at the cat’s skeleton. She leaned in and picked up the skull and gazed at its teeth, they weren’t cat’s teeth, the were way too long and jagged. This was all too weird. Georgina pulled one of the teeth out and slipped it into her pocket, meaning to examine it later.

She turned her head and saw another car pull into the carpark. “Okay, so I was wrong,” she muttered, watching the large grey estate car park up next to her land rover. “It still won’t stop me from disliking this place.”

The man climbed out of the car, he smiled at Georgina and hurried over to her, grinning. “I’m so glad you could take time out of your busy schedule to have a look at our discovery,” he said, shaking her hand. “Are you alone? I thought there were two of you coming down.”

She nodded. “He won’t be a moment; William wanted to stop off at a shop.” She looked over to the entrance to the carpark and smiled, he’s here now,” she said, watching him walk along the path. The man had a folded paper tucked under his arm. Georgina followed the man over to the main gate, trying to keep up with his excitable chatter, her mind kept going back to what she had just seen in those bushes. It didn’t add up, who had ever heard of sunlight melting an animal. It must have been something else, Georgina had no clue what though and her sleep deprived mind refused to play ball.

“Here you go,” said William passing her an energy drink. “This should help you stay awake.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

The man turned and shook William’s hand. “Thank you for coming.” He smiled at Georgina. “Thanks to both of you, I can’t tell you how exciting this is for us at the centre. Gosh, this will certainly put our little village on the map.”

She really disliked this little man, he creeped her out. Georgina suspected that beneath that thin veneer of naïve pleasantries, the man was a just another money grabbing shitpot. She may be wrong about him though, until her brain woke up and got to know him a little better, Georgina would keep her opinions to herself. Not that she’d share any of her thoughts about him with William, Despite his actions at the petrol stations and the fact that he’d been so pleasant and thoughtful, Georgina still believed he’d been naughty with that research assistant.

The man led her into the foyer. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

William shook his head, “If it okay, we’d like to see the discovery first.”

“Of course!” he smiled back. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you straight to it. I have closed the caverns down for the next few days, so you will not be disturbed. I’ll lose a significant amount of money, of course but I’m sure it’ll be so worth it.”

She was right about the man; he was a money-grabbing snake. It made her wonder just how far he would go to try to make money and whether or not the man really was trying to take them for a ride. She sighed and stared down at the floor, catching sight of the dirt. Was she was the only one who had noticed the muddy footprints running across the carpet.

Mr Calhoun ushered them towards a large metal gate, stretching across the entrance to the cavern, he insert a key into the lock and pulled the gate open.

“Before we enter, Mr Calhoun, I’m a little confused about something.”

The man faced her. “Well, I’ll be happy to help, if I can.”

“You mentioned that the girl stumbled upon the cavern, close to this gate?”

He nodded. “That is correct, yes.” He pushed the gate open even further. “You can see it from here.”

“Has there been any instability in the caverns recently? You know, sudden rock falls for example.”

The man shook his head. “No, of course not, rest assured, our caverns are perfectly safe.”

Georgina nodded. “That’s okay then, if you’d like to lead the way?”  That settled it then. It had to be a bloody set up. Her suspicions were confirmed when the man led her into the cavern. William switched on his torch, started up his little humming motor and pushed past the pair of them. She stayed by the entrance and ran her fingers down the side of the hole, it hadn’t escaped her attention that there was no rubble of any kind near this hole, she doubted that the snake had cleared it away.

Her husband was crouched in front of one of the skeletons. “Georgina, come over here, you have got to see this!”

She was reluctant to enter this stupid cavern so obviously full of fake bones. Georgina glared at her husband’s back, not believing that he had fallen for this charade. She reserved the largest portion of disappointment for herself to actually believe that she had found a way to escape her cheating husband.

“Come on in,” he shouted. “This is just amazing.”

She turned on her own torch and ran the beam over the roof of the chamber, wondering what it used to be before the owner decided to pull this little gag, she could see no evidence of any electrical outlets and signs of paint or wiring. Georgina watched the snake gaze across at her husband; she wondered what was going through his mind.

Georgina shook her head and walked over to William, she might as well see what had got the man so excited. He’d probably found a price tag attached to one of the skeletons. She crouched beside him and the man handed her a long finger bone. She rolled it along her fingers then brought the bone up to her nose. It smelled of old dust, mixed with something else, an acrid smell, resembling sulphur.

“One thing is clear to me, Georgina. Despite every evidence shouting at me that this is a set up, these certainly are real bones.” He strode up to the cavern owner. “I need to bring in higher authorities.”

The man smiled back, “Of course, I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do, sir. You see, this could be the most important find this century. We are looking at the discovery of a new human species, given the preservation, this find could completely turn around how ideas on evolution.”

The man’s grin widened. “That’s sounds absolutely incredible.”

Georgina could almost see the snake adding up all the money this would bring him and his tourist spot.

“Not for you it isn’t,” continued William. “You see, there is no way that an entrance to this chamber could have magically appeared overnight. It really is impossible. That means that we are dealing with a contaminated dig.”

The man walked back over to the pile of bones, leaving the man standing with his jaw hanging open. “William, how sure are you that these are genuine?”

He looked directly at her and grinned. “Oh, they are the real thing, Georgina,” he whispered. “Whether they originated from here or were put here is irrelevant.” He picked up a skull and showed her the jawbone. “We are definitely dealing with an undiscovered hominid and we are definitely going to make an absolute bloody fortune.

Georgina smile dropped from her face when she saw the shape of the teeth in the jawbone. She picked the tooth out of her pocket and compared it. The one she took out of the cat skull was a lot smaller but the shape and the wicked looking ridges were identical. Georgina stood up, picked out another skull, and saw the teeth were the same in this one as well. A cold shiver travelled up her back, wondering what it meant.

Chapter Eight

The cloudless dawn sky to the east looked as though god had attacked it with a scarlet paint set. Barry Hanson stopped his bicycle and gazed in wonder at the multitude of shades colouring the horizon. It were days like these where he so just loved his job as a paperboy.

Seeing such an awe-inspiring sight almost brushed away the unsettling notion that something terrible was happening in Colbeck. He mounted his bike and started to peddle, he should not have really stopped here. Jessup’s hill road was just around the corner and if he didn’t get his speed it, he’d never reach the top.

Barry’s morning started out just as it was supposed to. His dad woke him, just before he left for work, leaving Barry a nearly cold bacon sandwich on the breakfast bar. The feeling and taste of congealed bacon grease coating his lips helped to keep him going as cycled around the village on his early morning paper round.

The weird poo only began to hit the fan when he reached the last house, about half a mile down the road and close to the woods. He always looked forward to visiting Mrs Banks, the old dear always invited him in for a glass of orange juice and Barry could help himself to biscuits. He always thought that the extra fuel helped him climb this horrible hill.

As he climbed off his bike, dug out her Daily Mirror and Hello magazine, he saw that she wasn’t waiting for him by her garden gate. Her front door was wide open too. After a few repeated callings, he had left her deliveries on the doorstep and peddled away. Despite being practically friends, he never dare enter her house without Mrs Banks’s permission. He could go to jail for that.

Thinking back, Barry had seen nobody during his journey across the village, he knew it was early but, he usually saw someone, whether it was the early morning dog walker or the postman. There had been no cars on the road either.

He reached the top of the hill, leaned his bike against the dry stone wall and used his hanky to wipe the sweat off his brow. The gradient had really floored him today. Barry turned around; he could see the woman’s rooftop from here. Maybe he should have gone in, just to check. She might have fallen and hurt herself. “More than likely she had taken her poodle for a walk in the woods and just forgot to shut the door.” He nodded, liking that idea. Barry could always check up on her after he had finished. There were only another three more papers to deliver.

“It’s downhill all the way home,” he said, grinning.

His delivery covered all the outlying houses and cottages in Colbeck. It was a real humdinger of a round but Barry relished the challenge, it was also the most highest paid round and that was the real reason for doing it. As well as this paper round, Barry also helped at the garage on weekends and, if he was lucky, managed to work behind the newsagent’s counter after school.

Barry wanted a car. He was only fourteen but he always planned ahead ever since his parents started to give him pocket money. He had even helped to buy this bike. Barry tucked the hanky back into his pocket and mounted up.

It was the Biers farm next. Barry wasn’t too keen on delivering anything to that place. That pug-faced spawn of Satan lived there. Karl Briers took an instant dislike to Barry at primary school. Karl took great pleasure in finding new and exciting ways of making his life a misery. Two weeks ago, that boy had almost got away with stealing Barry’s bike. If it hadn’t been for the intervention of Karl’s father, he knew that he would have never seen that bike again.

The only thing I’d like to deliver to that place is a letter bomb.” He muttered. The lad’s father might have forced Karl to give him back the bike but he only did it because the man knew that if he had not, then the newsagents would have cancelled his paper order.

He tried to calm his nerves as the farm’s outbuildings came into view. He’d do anything not to deliver to this rancid poohole. The place was so disgusting. Barry so felt sorry for their animals, they were all in such a sorry state. The only animals that the farmer looked after were his two German Shepard’s. They used to really scare Barry until he took the time to make friends with them. He waited when the farmer wasn’t around, of course. He wouldn’t have been too happy with seeing his two vicious guard dogs lolling around on the floor, wanting the paperboy to tickle their bellies.

The main house was just around the corner. He prayed there would be nobody about, especially that Karl. He slowed down, dismounted and dug through the sack for the man’s newspaper. Barry couldn’t hear any shouting, he took that as a good omen.

Barry stowed his bike behind a bush and slowly walked towards the main gate, keeping his ear open for any noise. It was a quiet as the grave though, even the smells didn’t seem so bad today. He stopped by the corroded steel gate, unlatched it and pushed it open.

This was so weird, it should not be so quiet. There really was no sign of life. Barry jumped over a muddy puddle and sprinted over to the front door, eager to get this nasty deed done and dusted. He pushed the paper through the letterbox and turned around, intending to run back to his bike.

Barry noticed what he thought was Fang, hiding under a scrapped transit van that the farmer used as a store for the winter kindle. He had always had a bit of a soft spot for Fang. He was the first of the farmer’s dog not to try to bite him.

“Are you okay, boy?” he said, softly. The van was just past their sad excuse for a cowshed, but Barry daren’t shout, just in case somebody heard him, besides, Fang had an amazing sense of hearing. Maybe he was mistaken, he saw no signs of movement. He tiptoed across the muddy drive, cursing as he overestimated the size of one puddle and ended up with the back of his trousers splashed with wet mud.

As he neared, Barry saw that it was the dog under there; he could make out both his ears and nose. “Are you okay under there, Fang? Come on, boy,” he said patting his knees. “I’ve no biscuits but I do have a Twix that you can have.”

He moaned softly when Barry noticed a sticky patch of blood, spreading out from under the dog’s stomach. “Oh no,” he sighed. “Oh no, what’s happened to you?” Barry daren’t go any closer, oh my, this was way too upsetting. He turned around and ran towards the house, not caring about the mud drenching his trousers. The farmer needed to know about this right now.

Barry reached the door and banged as hard as he could. He jumped when the door slowly opened. He peered into the filthy kitchen, there was nobody about. “Hello?” he shouted. “Is there anybody in there? It’s about your doggy, I mean Fang. I think he’s hurt.”

This was so not good. None of this was Barry’s business. If his father was anything like his potty son, then he probably beat the dog himself and if Barry didn’t move it then he’d receive the same.

He violently shook his head. That was just stupid. The farmer loved those dogs, he probably loved them more then he loved his son. Barry stepped into the kitchen, wrinkling up his nose at the smell of stale grease. He felt his own greasy breakfast wanting to jump out of his throat to join it. He hurried through the narrow kitchen and tentatively pushed open the end door and gazed into their family room.

“Is there anybody here?”

The room was packed with boxes fill of useless junk. In the far corner next to the only other door was a metal table, overloaded with cans of spray paint, most still had the Colbeck repair shop logo stamped on the can. Barry just knew that Karl had not bought them. He saw no sign of life anywhere.

“This is none of your concern,” he whispered. Barry sighed and hurried out of the house, thankful to be away from that horrid place. If his mum saw the state of that house, she’d have a nervous breakdown. He turned around and saw his muddy footprints on top of the layers of muck already covering the tiles. They’d know that someone had been in here.

“Maybe they’ll think I’ve killed their doggy!” he gasped, wishing he’d never entered the house in the first place now. Barry closed the kitchen door, judging by their complete disregard for cleanliness, they probably wouldn’t even notice. He looked over to the van, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t leave the dog there, he just couldn’t. Barry hadn’t even checked to see if Fang was still alive.

“It’s not my problem,” he muttered, trying not to cry. Those other papers needed delivering and there was still the mystery of where Mrs Banks had got to. He rushed over to the main gate. At least Mrs Banks was kind to him.

He pulled his hand off the gate when Barry heard a single pitiful howl coming from behind him. “Oh no,” he cried out. Barry could not leave that poor doggy in this disease-ridden pesthole.

As he approached the van, he found that there was nothing underneath, no bloodied dog, nothing. He knew that the dog had been there, he certainly hadn’t imagined it. He raced around the side, thinking that perhaps, Fang had crawled away. There was nothing on the other side except more wet mud.

“I think I’m losing my mind.” Barry looked up, towards the cowshed and squinted, he did not believe this. The dog was in there. He could clearly see it lying in the straw, licking its legs. He grinned, it was obvious now, the silly dog must have knocked a tin of red paint on his back. He shook his head and smiled. Not believing he had been so daft.

“The last papers await,” he said, walking over to the cowshed. He’d need to say hello to fang before he left though.

As he approached the doors, he became aware of a very sour, rotting aroma coming from inside the building. Barry saw no sign of the dog. “Fang, where are you, boy?”

A single deep bark answered his cry.

That didn’t sound like either of the farmer’s dogs, he frowned. The farmer only had the two. Barry shrugged. It had to be fang. He stepped into the cowshed, trying to catch sight of the dog.

The boy screamed when the doors slammed shut and he felt a multitude of hands pawing his clothes. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out over a dozen human shapes sliding along the floor like grotesque serpents.

“Did you like my dog impression, Barry?” inquired a soft voice just by his ear.

Barry spun around and shrieked at the sight of the crimson-eyed farmer smiling at him. This couldn’t be happening to him, it had to be a nightmare, Barry must have tripped up and was only dreaming all this.

“Woof.”

The man pushed Barry back. He yelped as he stumbled over a moving body. The others all suddenly turned and moved towards the boy.

“Leave him alone!” boomed another voice.

All the figures around Barry whined as one. They got to their feet and raced over to the far wall. He sat up and saw the farmer had yet to move away. A huge man jumped over a wooden wall and strode up to the farmer.

“I see you still have a drop of defiance running through your thin blood.”

The farmer backed away.

“I think it’s too late to show your humility,” replied the giant, closing the distance between them.

“I’m sorry!” said the farmer dropping to his knees. He bent over and started to kiss and lick the man’s muddy boots.

“Enough!” shouted the giant. “Get away from me, you vile slug.” The man then turned to stare down at Barry. “You are not from my flock.” He took one step towards the boy, leaned down and picked up Barry by the front of his shirt.”

“Please, let me go. I’m only a paperboy.”

The giant nodded. “I am correct, you are unsuitable. You cannot join us.” The giant gently placed him back on the straw.

The giant turned away. Barry scrambled back, he had no idea what was going on here but there was no way that he was going to stay.

“Unlike my brethren, you are an outsider.” He spun around and raised his arms in the air. “My darlings, you have been beseeching for sustenance? I offer the outsider to you. Go, go feed on the child.”

Barry shrieked as a dozen crimson-eyed creatures fell on his body.

Chapter Nine

When his eyes flickered open and the beige blur eventually coalesced to form an off-white artex ceiling, Dan became aware of two anomalies. He had no idea whose house he’d crashed in and last night’s memories had just vanished. Dan ran his tongue along his teeth and failed to find evidence of any leftover takeaway food, coupled with a lack of hangover, he seriously began to worry.

He slowly blinked, then stared at the light-fitting directly above his head, realising that the deep-seated fear had not just landed on him, that unease had been with him, clinging to his skin like an unwanted coat ever since he woke up, he now found that irrational panic exacerbating.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Dan cried out when a slender arm suddenly landed on his thigh. He jerked around and saw a large mass of matted blonde hair sticky to the white pillow beside him. Just how much had he drunk last night not to remember pulling the girl of his dreams?

“You have already explored that country lane, you knob.” He spluttered, still not believing this. Even that unease lifted, just for a moment when he lifted the quilt and saw acres of firm sensual, naked flesh. He allowed his eyes to drink in the glory, while he wracked his memories, trying to locate the beginning of this drama.

No matter how hard he tried, nothing but a crimson mist jammed his thoughts.

“Fuck,” he sighed.

Dan slowly sat and gazed around the strange bedroom, looking for any object that might trigger his stubborn memories and allow him to actually remember if they really did make love last night. Their intermixed clothes were scattered across her carpet. He did notice the amount of dark clay adhering to the soles of boot their boots.

Alison moaned in her sleep. Dan turned and automatically ran his fingers down the side of her face. He jumped when she cried out and gasped. Oh crap, the poor lass must be having a nightmare.

His own unease slowly crept back up his spine, making him shiver. Dan lay back down and wrapped his arm around her warm body. “Alison, wake up.” She moaned again before turning around to face him.

“Hello,” she whispered. “Please hold me, I’m so scared.”

He gazed into her dark green eyes and saw tears bleeding out from under the orbs. He blinked rapidly when he saw they were the colour of bright red arterial blood. Alison open her mouth, she choked back a terrified sob and violently pushed him back.

Dan fell back and landed face down on her pale green rug. The dam broke; he attempted to scramble under the bed, trying to stop the cascade of last night’s recollections overwhelming his mind. “What have we done?” he said, sobbing out loud. The terrible fear of what he saw flow into Terrence’s screaming body now gripped his heart with a freezing-cold iron fist.

“Get away from me, you monster!” she wailed, running to the door.

“Alison!” he shouted, looking over the edge of the bed. “Please don’t leave me here. I’m not a monster, it fucking controlled me. That thing climbed inside my head.” He shuddered and whipped his head around feeling his stomach wanting to eject the contents of his stomach.

“Oh god!” she whimpered.

Dan felt her arms wrap around his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I opened my eyes, I didn’t see you,” she stammered. “I saw the face of that thing leering at me.” She squeezed him tight. “I dreamed about that dirty fucking monster all night. It was doing horrible stuff to me.” Alison buried her face in his shoulders and wept.

He took several deep breaths, listening to her soft cries. The need to comfort the girl helped him to adjust to their plight. His stomach began to settle and so had his missing memories. That unease had not moved though. It stayed with him, eating into his body, and making Dan question his very sanity. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Alison. “Hearing those words spoken aloud did alleviate some of the fear. The dark feeling lost some more of its potency when she slid around and gently brushed her lips across his.

“Thank you for not running out on me.”

Dan pushed her back. “Why would you even say that? I’d never leave you, Alison.”

She kissed him again. “I’m sorry; I guess last night’s nightmare still hasn’t left me. I feel like a frightened mouse, Dan.”

He nodded. “So do I and it isn’t just from what happened. I feel as though something has taken up residence in the back of my head.” Dan desperately tried to stop his tears from flowing. “Something very cold and fucking evil.”

“What’s happening to us?”

He shook his head, unable to answer her. Dan kissed her then slowly stood up and walked over to the window. He noticed a couple of people aimlessly wandering about on the street below. There was no purpose to their actions. They both looked as though they were still asleep. He knew the old man; he used to help out at the butcher’s shop until last year. The man always had a cheery smile and an ocean of silly jokes ready to dispense to anyone willing to stop.

The man just fell to his knees and rolled over, the double-glazing muted the sounds, but Dan just knew that the old man was crying. The other person, a youth with bleach blond hair just stumbled past before running over the road and disappearing into the launderette.

When he turned back around, he found that Alison had already dressed.

“We can’t stay here,” she said. Alison looked at her wall clock, tutted then dug out her phone. “I’m not sure what time my parents are due home.”

“Does here not like guests?”

Alison now looked as though Dan had told her that he’d just slaughtered a basket of kittens. She hurried over, picked his clothes off the floor, and pushed the bundle into his hands.

“This is the first time I’ve been in my bedroom for over a week. Yes, dad does not like guests.” She kissed him once. “If he found you in here,” she dragged her eyes down his body,” if he found you in here with nothing on, he’ll try to kill you.”

“Okay, we can go to my house, if you like. We need to work out what to do.” He dropped his clothes on the bed and reached for his socks. “It’s okay, my parents are nice.” Dan bit his lip when he realised what he had just said. “Oh crap. Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

Alison sighed and sat on the bed beside him, she passed him his other sock and rested her arm on his leg. “It’s okay, baby.” she slowly caressed the inside of his thigh. “My dad is a fucking bastard and I wish he’d just die, and I want my mum to fall into his grave for letting him do what he does.” Alison stiffened at the sound of a door downstairs slamming shut.

“Hurry up” she hissed.

Dan threw on the rest of his clothes, watching Alison rush over to the door. She pulled it open and peered through the narrow gap.

“They’re both in the kitchen. I think I can hear mum crying.”

He pulled on his boots, feeling guilty when some of the dried mud fell onto her carpet. “Is it safe to leave now?” Try as he might, Dan could not clear away the feeling that he’d just worked out the reason why this gorgeous young woman shunned any form of relationship. He hoped to god that it wasn’t true.

“They’ve shut the door. Come on, we need to go right now.”

Alison dragged him out of her bedroom and he quietly followed her down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, he heard the sound of weeping but it wasn’t a woman crying. He looked at Alison who in turn, gazed at the shut kitchen door. She shook her head from side to side before grabbing the cuff of his shirt and dragging Dan out of the house. She left the front door open and practically run up the garden path. Alison kept glancing back.

“It’s okay, they’re not following us.” He followed her through the gate, running to keep up with her. “Slow down, I still haven’t fastened up my laces.”

She suddenly stopped dead, took one more look over Dan’s shoulder before leaning against a brick wall. “Why was my dad crying, Dan? That bastard had never cried not fucking once. Even when…” Her voice tailed off.

“What’s wrong?” He followed her gaze and saw a middle-aged man, sitting on a doorstep with his head in his hands. Even from where they were, Dan could hear him crying. He looked across the street and saw at least a dozen other villagers either crying or huddled against walls.

“Oh fuck,” she muttered “They are all feeling what we feel.”

“Yeah, like we’re all sitting on death row.” He stood and took hold of Alison’s hand. “Now you know why your parents were crying.”

“Take me to your house, please.” She looked into his eyes. “Do you know a short cut, away from all these people?”

“Why?”

“Just look at them, Dan. Everyone is staring at us, that’s why. They know what we’ve done. What we have released.”

His blood ran cold when he saw three familiar young men striding towards them. Dan tightened his grip on Alison’s hand as Samuel Lane marched across the empty road and stopped directly in front of him.

“You have fucking killed us all, you stupid little shit.” The man glared at the pair of them. Why couldn’t you just leave alone?”

“My family have joined him,” muttered Karl. He sighed. “They’ll come for the rest of us when it gets dark.”

Dan opened his mouth.”

“Don’t even bother trying to explain,” he hissed. He turned around and pushed the other two across the road. “If I see you two again, while the sun is still in the sky, I kill you both myself.”

Dan dragged Alison away, heading towards the park, aware that every villager in sight was now staring at them. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that they all agreed with what Samuel had just spat out.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.

“Look, don’t you fret, sweetheart. We can figure this out; we just need some quiet and a bit of time. I promise you that my mum and dad will stick with us.” He remembered the frightened face of that old butcher and suddenly saw the image of his dad hiding under the kitchen table while his mum had pressed her body up against the washing machine muffling her screams by pushing a tea towel into her mouth.

“We’re nearly there,” he said. “Our house is the last terraced one. Can you see the tall bright blue fence? I helped to paint that with my dad when I was about seven.” The sound of his voice distracted Dan from thinking what he would discover when he opened the front door. “You should have seen the state of me. “I looked like a tiny purple alien.”

“Wait!” she said, pointing to the side of him. “Look at that old woman. She doesn’t look like the sky is about to fall on her head.”

Dan stopped and watched the woman slowly strolled over to the lake in the middle of the park. She halted by the edge, opened a clear plastic bag, and emptied some bread crusts onto the water’s surface. Alison was right; she didn’t look as though she had a single care in the world.

“I know her. She moved into the house opposite ours about a year ago.”

“She’s not local?”

Dan shook her head. “No, my mum told me that their family moved up from south London.”

“Do you think it means anything?”

He gazed into her troubled face; no doubt, Dan looked as fucked up to her as he did to Alison. “I can’t think straight. Come on, I feel so exposed out here, let’s get to my house.” Dan led her out of the park and crossed over the street. There were a few more villagers close by, all huddled around a stationary milk float. After the glares they received earlier on, Dan had no wish to undergo that trauma again.

Mrs Crabtree, the old woman who lived two doors down, chose that moment to open her front door. She stood there, clad in her pink dressing gown and gazing in confusion at her doorstep. “Sweetheart?” she said to Dan as he hurried past her gate. “Have you seen the milkman? He’s not usually this late.”

He pointed behind him, flashed the woman a nervous smile and pulled Alison into his garden.

“There was nothing wrong with her either.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” reaching for the door handle. “Mrs Crabtree has lived in our village for over thirty years.” He opened the door and pulled her inside.

The aromas of cooking bacon and eggs for his father’s breakfast and the sound of his sister’s annoying moaning were absent. He looked up at the wall clock as he entered the kitchen. This time yesterday, they were all here. His unease gripped his throat, why should he have thought that just because he’d returned to familiar surroundings that everything would magically be all better?

His mum wasn’t hugging a kitchen appliance with a tea-towel stuffed in her mouth but he felt that, wherever she was, she probably wanted to do that. Alison hadn’t moved from out of the hallway. “It’s okay, you can come in, if you like.”

She ventured into the kitchen and looked around, her eyes finding a family snapshot of them on holiday at Butlins a few years ago. It was the only picture in the house where was Chelsea was smiling.

“You’re a proper family,” she murmured.

Dan hurried over and brushed his fingers through her hair. “And you’re now part of it.” He said, smiling. “My mum will adore you, Alison. You’ll see. As soon as this weirdness is over with, we’ll start from fresh.” He kissed her. “Everything is going to be all right.” Dan pulled out Chelsea’s seat and invited her to sit down.

“I’m going to check upstairs. I won’t be long.” Dan left her in there and rushed out into the hallway. Wondering where he had dug up all that blind optimistic rubbish. Deep down, Dan knew that whatever was going on, it was a bit more serious than some minor quarrel with the neighbours or getting involved in a pub fight. As each moment passed that unease, ate into him like a malignant cancer, threading its way through every part of his body.

He and every other local were going to fucking die. The monster that he had helped to release was coming for them all. Dan reached the top of the stairs and crouched down. Through the open kitchen door, he saw Alison tracing her finger along the lines in the patterned tablecloth. No matter what happened, he decided there and then that he would doing anything to make sure that his girlfriend didn’t come to any harm.

“I’m not going to let anything hurt you, my sweet,” he whispered.

“Yet you let that fucking monster get inside my body!”

Dan spun around and staggered into the wall when he saw Terrence leaning over him. You killed me, just like you have killed everybody else.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe that he was seeing this. No, no way, God, I’m sorry Terrence. I didn’t mean any of this to happen.”

Terrence leaned back and opened his coat. “My body is bursting at the seams, Dan. I’m too small for the master. He needs a bigger body. Oh god, You have no idea how much pain I am in. Terrence grabbed the banister. “I want him to leave me right now, that way, at least I’ll have rest.”

His taut skin, stretched tight over bulging muscle and bone started to split. Pale yellow, foul smelling glutinous fluid seeped out of the seams and dripped onto the carpet, eating into the weave like strong acid.

“Oh no!” Terrence screeched, “He’s waking up, he knows I’ve disobeyed his commands.”

Dan watched in horror as his body continued to inflate while Terrence howled in agony. He slammed his arm over his face as the lad’s body detonated, spraying Dan in wet lumps of scarlet gore.

He yelped when he felt something touch his foot. Dan opened his eyes and looked in astonishment at his hands; he wiped his fingers down the side of his face. What the fuck had just happened? Where was Terrence and why was he now clean? There was no evidence that Terrence had been in the house at all.

His mum and dad stood in front of him they held each other’s hands. Dan then saw Alison standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the three of them.

“I think we need to talk, son,” said his dad.

Dan slowly nodded, seeing the same haunted expression on both his parent’s faces. He wondered where his sister was.

Chapter Ten

He didn’t like any of this, the woods should not be so quiet. Ethan looked up through the tree canopy, trying to see any bird activity. It unnerved him to feel so alone in here. Despite hunting and trapping some of the wildlife, Ethan still believed that he felt a link to the animals. Unlike the rest of those retards in the village, Ethan was at one with nature, he respected his environment.

Nothing had moved, save for the small branches and leaves, swaying in the breeze, ever since Ethan had stepped back into the only place in the village where he felt comfortable. He passed one of the picnic tables, meaning to venture towards his domain, he turned, hurried back over to the table and sat down, staring along the gravel footpath. This area of woodland now felt as empty as his normal haunts. He’d seen nobody on his way to the woods and so far not one other person passed him in here.

“There’s no squirrels around,” he said.

Ethan had not mentioned anything about the events of last night to another soul. Who the fuck would believe him anyway? After his lucky escape from whatever the fuck had chased him, Ethan had taken the precaution of locking himself in his bedroom for the rest of the night. He had only sneaked back downstairs to raid the fridge when he was sure that his parents had finally gone to bed.

His mum and dad had kept him awake for a good few hours with their rowing. That was unusual; Ethan hadn’t heard them arguing for years. Through the bedroom door, he had managed to catch some of it. Apparently, his mum wanted them to move back to Manchester. Ethan was too stressed out with his own shit, to actually care as to why mum had a sudden change of heart. He always thought both his parents loved this quaint and pleasant little village.

The picture of Samuel Lane knocking on their door, with naked lust in his eyes, all ready to molest his mum had ran through his mind whilst listening to the pair of them shouting at each other. It had occurred to Ethan that perhaps that bastard had indeed been to his house while he had been out. That idea had gone straight into the bin, if that had been the case then Ethan would have been sitting down there with them, with his dad demanding to know the reasons for his actions.

His dad had always warned him that if Ethan even considered using his rifle on another human, no matter what the provocation, then his dad would be the one to call the police.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he whispered. Ethan picked his pride and joy off the picnic table and wondered just how he’d live with himself if this was ever taken off him. It did feel more than strange to be sitting in such a public area, holding his rifle. Then again, nothing that had happened to him since yesterday felt remotely normal.

“Come on, you coward. You know the real reason why you’re back in here.” Ethan jumped off the table. He placed the rifle back in its cover. It felt comfortable to have the weapon in his hands but he believed it would be next to useless against what had chased him last night.

He pulled out his granddad’s bayonet. Ethan had stolen this wicked looking piece of hardware from out of his dad’s private chest that he stored up in the attic, three years ago. Ethan hadn’t thought that he’d miss it. His dad hadn’t been up there in years.

It had taken Ethan a good few weeks to fashion a sturdy handle to compliment the blade, he had no wish to sully the superb design with a sawn off broom handle and a load of masking tape. Just like the animals he killed, Ethan knew that he had to respect his dead grandfather.

“I know you would have approved of what I did to your war trophy, granddad.” He drew the blade across the scarred table, cutting into somebody’s carved initials. His modified bayonet easily sliced through the wood. Ethan nodded to himself. He knew from experience that this could cut through flesh just as easily.

It was time to get this over with. Ethan set off away from the picnic tables, towards where he killed that baby thing. He could feel his pounding heart, cracks and whistles went off in the back of his head. God, he was fucking terrified of finding out what had happened to the creature thing.

Ethan had caught just a couple of hours of exhausted sleep in the early hours of this morning. After his parents had quietened down, and he’d filled his face with some left-over roast beef slices and some trifles, he spent the rest of the night trying to put the pieces together. He spent hours, trying to make sense of what he had seen and what had chased him in here.

He might as well just banged his head against a brick wall. Every conceivable explanation felt as though he had just lifted the plot out of some crappy horror movie. Ethan stopped a few feet away from that large flat stone. “I know what I fucking saw,” he snarled.

The rock was right there, just where he had dropped it but there was no sign of what had chased after him. “I know what I fucking saw!” he repeated. Had the woodland night creatures made off with it? He sighed and forced his feet to move a little closer. As Ethan neared the stone, he did notice something not quite right. Some kind of black goo coated one side of some of the leaves close to the stone. It reminded Ethan of thick oil.

Maybe the oil the thing’s blood and the woodland creatures did indeed run off with the body. Ethan walked up to the stone, daring himself to lift it up. There was no way that he was going to put his fingers anywhere near that rock. Instead, he pushed the blade under, levered up the stone and used the tip of his boot to flip the stone onto its other side.

Ethan threw his hand against his nose and jumped away as the rays of the morning sun ate into the flattened head, turning the bloodied flesh into bubbling blackened tar. He turned away and spewed up the remains of the scotch egg that he took out of the fridge before he left the house.

He slowly turned back, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “It just fucking melted,” he gasped. Not all those ridiculous theories that his over-tired mind came up with at four o’clock this morning, seemed so stupid now.

All that remained after the sun’s cleansing rays had scoured the area were a few bits of broken skull and some teeth lodged in the jaw. Natural curiosity overcame his fear when Ethan saw those wicked pointed, ridged teeth. He crouched down and turned the bone over with the tip of his bayonet, watching the sunlight sear away the bits of meat still clinging to the jaw.

Ethan did not want to think what would have happened to him if this mutilated baby had managed to sink those pointed fangs into his flesh. Despite its size, he was doubtful that he would have been able to survive the assault. “Would I have really died though?” he wondered.

There was no way that the toddler could have survived that fall, that thing just had to be dead. He imagined that huge monstrous thing picking the kid out of his cot and slicing through his tender skin with a long fingernail before launching him out of that window.

It had contaminated the kid. That evil fucker was out there, spreading this weird sickness to the rest of the villagers. Ethan flipped over another bone piece, leaning back as the sun boiled away some more flesh. It all made sense now, no wonder he had seen nobody about, they must be hiding from the light.

He jumped to his feet, why the fuck was he still here? Ethan had to get out of this bloody village before the sun set. The thought of all those locals behaving like that changed kid made his bowels loosen.

Ethan gripped his bayonet and snarled, just wishing for one of them to emerge from behind a tree and go for him, he’d show them not to mess with a proper hunter. Ethan then looked at the blade and sighed. He must be missing part of his brain to think that this would stop one of them. What use was his bayonet against something that couldn’t die?

For the second time in two days, Ethan cursed his decision never to buy into the modern obsession with mobile phones. He could have warned his parents’ right here and now. “If they would have even believed me,” he muttered.

The ambient light under the trees dimmed as dark cloud drifted in front of the sun. The desire to leave this ominous place increased as he heard the woods around him come alive with the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping.

One by one, pairs of tiny crimson lights appeared in the undergrowth in front and to both sides of him. He didn’t need to turn to know they were behind him as well.

“Oh fuck,” he stammered, the realisation hit him that these lights must belong to the creatures that dined on that changed toddler after he had ran off. “I am so dead!”

A badger and two rats burst through the foliage directly in front of him. He slashed out blindly, catching one of the rats and slicing through the rodent’s body. The other two streaked towards his legs. The thought of those terrible teeth ripping through his flesh spurned him into action. Ethan leaped over the badger and squealed when the rat spun around and jumped at him. He jerked backwards and swung his leg, catching the rat in its underbelly. He felt the rat’s fragile bones snapping before it fell between two exposed tree roots, twitching its legs.

Ethan’s sudden movements acted as a trigger for the rest of the animals to explode through the bushes. He scrambled up the banking; aware that the masses swarm of tightly packed furry bodies would soon be crawling all over him, there was no way that he’d be able to outrun the fuckers.

A gasp of naked relief escaped his mouth at the sight of that beautiful sun breaking through the cloud cover. He managed to reach the top of the hill, never before had he been so happy to see those picnic tables.

He turned around; panting and saw that the animals had melted back into the wilderness. Ethan raced for the gate, desperate to get out of this fucking place before the sun went back behind the clouds.

Chapter Eleven

There wasn’t a chance that Georgina would admit this to William, but she was now so glad her husband brought her along. Staring at all those bones, made her feel like a starving cat locked in a fish market. This is what she lived for. Georgina suppressed a grin. She hadn’t felt that joyous buzz ever since her first Egypt dig over three decades ago.

As with all new discoveries, the uncovering of every new piece brought with it, a torrent of questions. Until now, she had relished the prospect. Georgina turned over the femur. She took one more picture, before placing it back into its original position. So far, every question asked only brought on a flood of more bloody, seemingly unanswerable questions.

Georgina got to her feet and brushed a little amount of dust off her canvas trousers. It bothered her that the whole chamber was remarkably clean. “William, you said you’d have an answer for me ten minutes ago.”

Her husband stopped his hum in mid tune and peered over the top of his laptop’s screen. He frowned. “I think so, but I’m not happy with these results, despite running the test twice. I really should run it again before releasing the data. None of this is making any sense.”

“Releasing the data?” she spluttered. “Did you even say that, William? I am your wife, not a lecture hall full of kids. Will you just spit it out, as for not making any sense? Nothing about this discovery makes any sense.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for a few more minutes? I really should run it again.”

“Don’t you give me your over-cautious twaddle. I know how thorough you are, you wouldn’t have made a mistake once, never mind three times.”

“If you insist,” he replied. “But I’m not sure that you’re going to like this, Georgina. Give of take a couple of centuries; the bones that I’ve examined are about a thousand years old.”

Had she just heard that correctly? That meant that these skeletons weren’t even prehistoric. “That is surprising, judging by the decay, I was hoping for the last ice age.”

“I’m going to run the test again anyway but I don’t believe the findings will alter significantly. Georgina, there’s something else too. You were quite correct. Apart from the anomalies regarding the dental structure, these bones are most definitely human.”

If they found a new species, the pair of them would have been set up for life. The media would have gone crazy, at least for a few weeks. Even so, Georgina wasn’t about to give up her dream of going back to Egypt, not just yet. This was still a significant find and the strange teeth only deepened the mystery. The tabloids would just love that, she smiled to herself, especially if she showed some journalist the tooth she pulled out of that cat skull.

“I’m sure the lab results will confirm my findings.” He took another look at the jawbone in his hand. “It is most curious.”

“I can’t explain the teeth either.”

“No, it’s not just that, Georgina,” he replied, shaking his head. William stood up and hurried over to the opening, he looked in both directions before turning around. I know that I said that our greedy cavern owner had placed all the bones in here. Looking at the evidence, I no longer believe that it the case.” He held up his hand. “Yes, I know what I said about this opening and I still stand by that theory. Even, so, I still think that all these unfortunate souls died in here.”

“I’m sorry; I can’t follow your thinking, William, where is the evidence to support this?”

William’s face broke into a grin. “That’s because you haven’t noticed the markings yet. Also, because you assumed the bones were older than you thought, the paradox hasn’t hit you just yet. He rushed over and leaned over the woman. He picked up a skull and dropped it into her hands. “It’s been picked clean. In fact, I’m willing to wager that there isn’t a scrap of flesh left of any of these bones.

She shrugged. “Why should that surprised you? According to your data, they are over a thousand years old. Time, moisture and animals would have removed all soft organic material.”

“Not all of it,” he said, shaking his head. “Can you not see how clean the chamber is? Plus, I’ve not seen evidence of any animal intrusion. If the wildlife had broke into this chamber, they would have scattered these bones throughout this chamber. I think that they ate each other. It is the only thing that does make sense.”

She paused, thinking about what he’d just said. He was correct, at least about the animals. Georgina then chuckled to herself “Oh dear, you haven’t thought that theory through. You must be slipping. What about the last person, did he eat himself?” Georgina shone the torch beam on the skull and saw the deep grooves. William was right, she had seen marking like these on the other bones but none were as deep as the grooves in this skull. She frowned; it would take an animal with considerable bite strength to leave that mark.

She sighed, yet more unanswered questions. She placed the torch on the floor while she put the skull back.”

“What is that?” asked her husband. He dropped to his knees, grabbed her torch and shone it further into the crushed up bones. “I think I can see something,” he groaned, pushing his arm through the bodies. “Got it!” he grinned, triumphantly. William pulled his arm clear and opened the palm of his hand to display a large golden coin. “I can’t believe how heavy it is.” He passed the coin to her and pushed the torch through a gap in the bones. “There’s more of them in there, Georgina, a lot more.” He jumped to his feet, come on, let’s get the rest of the equipment.”

She turned the heavy coin over in her hands, trying to work out the age. She had never seen anything like this before. The marksmanship in the design was far more advanced than anything she had seen before. “William, I don’t understand this.” He gave him back the coin. “This is modern, it must be, the technology to craft this did not exist a thousand years ago.”

“I know,” he replied. “I noticed that as soon as I pulled it out. Granted, a highly skilled metal smith might have, over time, produced a single coin. William looked back towards the pile of bones. “I’m willing to bet that this coin isn’t unique.” He hurried over to the opening. “Come on, Georgina, let’s see what else we can find buried under all those bones.”

Georgina pocketed the coin, feeling its weight as she followed him out of the caverns and into the foyer. She saw no sign of the cavern owner, for that, she was thankful. Georgina shuddered at how that awful man would react when he found out about the valuable trinkets. Her husband made his way to the main exit. He seemed oblivious to the danger. Did he not realise that they were strangers in this village? They knew nothing about the owner, apart from the fact that he was planning on getting rich with the dig. “And my husband had scuppered that plan,” she said.

They really should call the museum and fill them in. The authorities needed to know about this right away. “Before an excitable rabble of villagers made off with a national treasure, she muttered darkly. “Shit, I’ve left my mobile in my coat pocket. Georgina glanced behind her before hurrying towards the door. She will ring them when she helped her husband bring in the rest of the gear.

That made sense; she hadn’t seen the other pieces herself yet. Georgina leaned against the door, blinking in the bright sunlight. She watched William unload the last few pieces of their equipment.

He picked up the remaining arc light and passed it to her. “Have you seen the owner about?”

Georgina shook her head. “I think he’s in his office, probably a bit pissed off because you shouted at him.”

“You’d better take this one back to the chamber and start to set them up. I’ll bring the rest of the gear inside. I’d rather not leave that chamber empty for longer than we have to.”

She nodded and hurried back, deciding to have a quick look herself before giving the museum a call. Georgina would feel a lot safer if she knew a few more familiar faces were on their way. “All long as they don’t bring that woman,” she growled.

Georgina laid the last of the lights next to the others that they’d brought in earlier. Why did she have to go and spoil her mood by thinking about that woman? For the first time in months, she was actually enjoying the company of her husband. Despite their major differences in their work method, the pair still made a great team.

She tried to imagine him engaging that dizzy bitch in conversation involving something a little deeper than hair colouring or which character on Coronation Street had just had a bust up. It would not gel. Georgina’s imagination just wasn’t that strong. Her husband needed mental stimulation as well as physical.

Georgina heard footsteps behind her and assumed that William had returned with the rest of the equipment.

“You can’t provide him with either, Georgina.”

She yelped and spun around and gasped in utter astonishment at the sight of Trisha Campbell stood over her. Tight black leather panties clung to her flesh like a second skin. Trisha wore nothing else. She stretched out her arm and showed Georgina the thin whip clenched in her tight fist.

“I wore this little number for your husband, the first time we met up. “Trisha giggled. “Of course, he had no idea until we got to my apartment and I took off my heavy coat. The woman crouched down. “Oh my god! You should have seen his eyeballs pop! Not surprisingly, the man came almost as soon as I released that monster from his pants. Okay, maybe not straight away, he did after a couple of rapid strokes though.” She giggled. “His eyes popped again when I licked his semen off my fingers.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she gasped. How the fuck had she managed to get past William without him seeing? Oh god, unless he already knew about her! “Get the fuck out of here before I ram that whip right up your twat!” Georgina jumped up; she grabbed the closest heavy object and ran at her tormenter.

“The woman just danced to the side, easily avoiding her clumsy movements. “Admit it, Georgina; you have failed as a woman. William told me that he still adores you, he loves you so much that it aches deep down.” Trisha ran behind the pile of bones. “You’d prefer to caress these dusty pieces of crap, rather than let that man satisfy you.” She sighed, “Oh god, he sure knows how to do that.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Georgina threw the skull at her. “Get the fuck out of our lives!”

Trisha just smiled and slowly shook her head. “Not a chance. While you were busy examining dead things, William was busy examining me.” She squeezed her breast and released a long theatrical moan. “His huge cock was filling my wet hole every single night.”

Georgina screamed and ran at Trisha, jumping over a pile of bones. A thighbone, sticking out of the pile, caught her ankle. She stumbled and fell. An avalanche of falling bones tumbled down, burying the woman. Thick dust stopped her from calling out and she fell back, choking. All Georgina could hear was the sound of that woman’s manic laughter.

A set of strong bony fingers wrapped around her wrist. Georgina coughed and jerked back, the arm was just too strong. Weeping in terror, the armed pulled her free of the bones. Georgina blinked and wiped the dust out of her eyes.

“William?”

His concerned face stared back down at her. “There’s nobody else in here, Georgina, apart from the owner. He’s in his office, muttering. I saw him as I passed his office. Judging by the amount of glass all over his carpet, I think that he just had a bit of a tantrum.” He crouched down and used his hand to gently brushed a lock of blonde hair out of his face. “Come on, you’re worrying me now. “What’s just happened?”

Tears streamed down her face, she couldn’t help herself. Just the though of that tarty cow taking advantage of her husband was just too much. “Why did you have to go sleep with that dirty Trisha?” She sputtered out.

The blood drained from his face. “Oh fuck.” He reached towards her.

“Get away from me!” she squealed. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

He stood up and turned around. William walked over to the pile of equipment by the opening; he stooped and picked up his jacket. “I can only assume that you have been reading my messages, or at least some of them.” He pulled out his mobile phone and threw it over to her. “I think you had better read them all.”

Georgina caught his phone and looked into his pathetic looking expression, “Where the fuck is she?”

He shook his head, “I’m sorry?”

“The girl, William. That tart was in here just a moment ago. What have you done with her?”

He shook his head again. “Sweetheart, There is nobody here with us.”

“Don’t give me that shit. I saw her with my eyes, dressed in nothing but a pair of leather knickers and holding a whip.” She stopped herself when Georgina realised what she had just said. “Fuck,” she muttered, “because that can really happen.” She collapsed on the floor, wanting to curl up into a tight ball.

She felt him sit down beside her; he took the phone out of her limp hands. He then gently sat her up and rested the back of her shoulders on his chest.

“I’ve never been unfaithful to you, Georgina. You’re my wife and I’d do anything for you. He opened his hand then placed the phone back into her hand. “Read it.”

She opened her eyes and skimmed through the conversation on the display, “Oh god!” her hand flew to her mouth when she read the passage that she had first seen. She hadn’t looked at it properly. That had been sent from her, not the other way around.”

“That went on for about a week. To this day, I have no idea how she managed to get my number. “I’ll admit that yes, those messages did turn me on, Georgina. Despite her reputation, she is a very attractive woman and I was very flattered by her advances.” He sighed.

“She read the last massage from him to Trisha, asking her to please stop sending messages.”

The girl went after one of the male janitors after I sent her that last one. As far as I know, they are still together.” He dug his fingers into her shoulders. “What happened in here?”

Georgina shook her head; she turned around and flung her arms. “I just slipped that’s all.”  What had she just seen? It was far too real to have been a dream. She took a deep breath and buried her face into William’s chest.

“Come on, Georgina, let’s get this finished.” He lifted her head. “This find is going to make us both comfortably well off.” He looked beside her, smiled and picked up another gold coin. “This stuff is everywhere.” William lifted her off the floor and brushed her down. “Help me set up these lights; I want to see exactly what we have here.”

She smiled and walked over to the equipment, suddenly, her life didn’t feel like it was coming to an end. Georgina bent down and stopped. She glanced over at the opening and saw the cavern owner staring at them. His gaze on her backside lasted seconds when he noticed the gold coins, scattered across the chamber floor.

“What the hell?”

William hurried over to him. He placed his arms across the chamber. “Mr Calhoun, I need you to go ring the museum and tell them to get over here as soon as they can.” He glanced back and followed the owner’s eyes. “Believe me, sir, what we have found here will make the bone discovery seem like nothing. “You are now an incredibly rich man.”

“Is that gold?”

William nodded.

“There is so much of it.”

Georgina saw that the man was right. Until now, she just assumed that William had just been talking about a few coins. What she saw made her jaw drop. The amount here could equal the treasure found in all the Egyptian tombs put together.

“Can I hold a piece?” He looked at Georgina. “Just one piece.”

William shook his head. “Mr Calhoun? I really do need you to make that phone call right now.”

She breathed a silent sigh of relief when the man nodded and rushed back to the office. She wasn’t sure what he would do. The sight of so much wealth could make a man do some strange things. Although she had recently discovered that her husband wasn’t as meek as she had always suspected, Georgina didn’t think he be a match for the owner, especially with this gold almost within his grasp.

“Georgina,” I want you to get to the back of the chamber. I also want you to take an arc light with you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Our friend has just run off in the other direction, Georgina. I’ve just seen the back of his jacket disappear around that corner. I have no idea what he is doing. I can only assume that he’s not going to do as I asked.”

She picked up William’s phone and rang the museum’s number. She then noticed the no signal icon and wanted to slap herself for not remembering where they were. “Oh, just great, “she muttered. Georgina gave the phone back to William.

“Don’t look so annoyed, dearest. I did the same thing. Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We’d better make the call ourselves. He led her out of the chamber and towards the man’s office.

They both shuddered to a stop when they saw the man running out of the darkness. His head was alive with the flapping wings from a dozen black bats, frantically beating against his skull.

The owner fells to his knees then fell forward. The bats flew back into the darkness just before the man’s mutilated head crashed into the floor. Georgina choked back a scream as the man place his arms out in front of him and lifted his body off the floor.

She moaned in disbelief. That poor man could not still be living. The bats had consumed most of the flesh covering his skull. He took one shuddering step towards them. He then opened his mouth and Georgina than saw that his teeth now resembled the ones in the chamber skulls.

“I refuse to believe this is real,” said William. “It is impossible that he should still be alive.” He took her hand then pulled Georgina back until he reached the metal gate. He pushed her thorough, hurried out himself and pulled the shutters across. “There must be a phone around here somewhere.”

“Fuck the phone,” she shouted. Georgina grabbed the man’s coat sleeve and pulled him towards the door. “Let’s just get the hell out of here!”

They pulled open the door, raced out into the carpark, and found a group of large man stopping them from reaching their land rover.

“I thought I recognised the off roader parked down here. I should have known you two were a couple of scientists. Well, I’m sorry, but your test-tubes and white lab coats won’t be able to sort out this fuck up.”

Georgina felt her bowels loosen when two of the men grabbed her husband and pushed him against the wall. Samuel smiled at her. She choked back a quiet gasp when the man produced a thin blade and waved the knife in front of her face.

“You’re not so gobby now, are you?” He moved to the side and pointed at their Land Rover. “You or your daft husband isn’t fucking off just yet. As you have noticed, I’ve slashed all your tyres.” He ran up to Georgina and wrapped his arm around her neck. You’re going to be a good girl. If you piss me off in any way, then my mates are going to hurt your bloke. Do we understand each other?”

Georgina managed to nod.

“Are you having lots of fun picking your way through our ancestor’s bones? You’re nothing but a pair of dirty vultures, we should kill you here and now. I would too, if I didn’t need you. You see, we know that it’s going to come for us tonight.” He shivered. “I don’t want to be turned into one of those things, no fucking way. I wanted to leave, like right now. Only, we fucking can’t. I bet you could leave though.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gasped. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Until we can work out what the fuck to do, I figure the only way to slow him down is to provide him with a pleasant distraction. You really are very pretty.” He mashed his lips against hers.

“It’ll be a real shame to let the fucking freak suck on your bones, lady.” He said pulling away. “But, that can’t be helped. I don’t want to fucking die tonight.”

Chapter Twelve

This was the perfect way to end the worst ever day in Chelsea Wilson’s life. She glanced at her phone one more time not all that shocked to discover that the readout had only advanced another couple of minutes. Why should she be even surprised that he was late?

Chelsea leaned back against the stone bridge and glared in annoyance at the sight of a lone sheep, clipping away the long grass beside the road a few hundred metres from where she stood. “I hope some truck crashes into you,” she said, watching the stupid animal wander into the middle of the road. God, she was so mad with that boyfriend of hers. Chelsea ground her teeth in frustration, she was mad with everybody right now.

“Where the bloody hell is he? Wait, maybe he’s not even coming? Oh god, I know what he’s done, the bastard’s gone and fucking dumped me.” That made perfect sense; the dirty bastard had probably ended up in bed with one of Chelsea’s mates. She should have got rid of him ages ago. The bloke was just like his father.

The sheep had managed to get to the other side of the road without anything hitting it. Not that its feat was much of an achievement, in just over one hour, precisely no vehicles had passed Chelsea while she walked towards the outskirts of the village. She was used to not seeing much traffic around but even for this shithole of a one-horse village, seeing nothing moving at all was just unheard of.

Chelsea looked at her phone one more time, this was just ridiculous, now the time seems to be going backwards. That reminded her. As soon as she got back home, that irritating brother of hers would be eating his food with a straw by the time she had finished beating the crap out of him. Chelsea was so going to break open his face for pulling that clock prank, this morning.

She supposed that it could have been a lot worse. Thankfully, Chelsea had remembered that they had they had shut the college over in Chatsbury just before, she ended up forking out the bus fare to get over there. Apparently, they were doing lecturer training sessions for the day, so some shit like that. Chelsea couldn’t believe that it had slipped her mind.

“For the first time since this morning, Chelsea was at a loss at what to do next. It was pretty fucking obvious that the bastard wasn’t going to turn up now. She had no intention of going home. Chelsea blew that idea out of the water as soon as she remembered that it was mother’s market day shop today. She was in no fit state to allow her mum to drag her round all the village’s crappy chops.

At the time, Chelsea believed that remembering that the college was shut had been her only piece of good news, until she remembered that Chatsbury was like ten times larger than her shitty village. Hell, this forgotten shithole in the middle of nowhere didn’t even have a decent coffee shop. “There’s nothing in Colbeck,” she muttered, “not even a reliable boyfriend.”

She had been waiting on the fucking stupid bridge, watching that fucking stupid sheep eat grass for over twenty minutes now. Why the hell Samuel wanted to meet her here was beyond her. Chelsea grabbed her phone, This was no good, despite his explicit instructions not to message him, she intended to do just that. Fuck him and his stupid rules. There was no way that she was going to spend another minute on here.

A single raindrop landed on the wall beside her, followed by a dozen others as the heavens opened. The sudden change in weather had just pushed away the last of her uncertainty. She raced down the old stone steps and took shelter under the bridge, just in time to escape the worst of the downpour.

“This is just not bloody fair,” she cried, watching in annoyance as her message to him bounced back. She leaned back against the curved wall and took a dozen steady breaths, desperately trying not to let the tears start to flow again. Until today, having a bit of a cry, was something that other girls did. Not her, no way. Chelsea had never seen herself as some stupid girl who broke down in floods of tears whilst watching some crappy Disney cartoon. Yet, for these past few hours, that’s all she wanted to do. It was only her suppressed anger that kept these alien feelings from taking her over.

“Where the hell is he?” She sent the message one more time then walked to the other end of the bridge, silently cursing as she saw the rain was getting heavier. She was miles from anywhere and at least an hour to wait for the next bus. If one would actually turn up. Chelsea could not stay here for the rest of the day.

She sighed and rang his number, almost throwing the phone into the canal when she heard some automated voice informing her that her call could not be connected. There was nothing else for it; Chelsea would just have to walk back into the village. Home was out of the question but there was still the Dog and Duck. A few drinks and a hot meal would soon sort her out.  She’d probably look like a drowned rat by the time she got the to pub, but she didn’t really give a shit.

Chelsea pulled up her coat hood and climbed the steps back up to the road. If she kept a good pace, it wouldn’t take more than twenty minute to reach the village. She walked past the sheep, sheltering under a bush and hoped the stupid woolly thing died of a cold. Chelsea hated her life, she hated her family, her boyfriend, the crap internet connection and most of all, she hated the fucking rain.

The incessant stream of rain blocked out most of the other sounds, but even that could not stop her from hearing a sudden animal scream blasting out from just behind her. Chelsea spun around; she dashed to the other side of the road and felt the gorge rise up when she saw a large wet crimson mess spread out across the grass verge. Fragments of meat clung to the wooden fence behind the bush and she saw ropes of gore hanging off the foliage.

“Oh my fucking god!” she gasped. “What had just happened here?” that sensation of helpless fear that she’d done so well in staying suppressed now flooded through her body and tried to turn Chelsea into a shivering pile of boneless meat, demanding that she just lay under that bush, curl up in a tight ball and close her eyes.

With a will power that surprised even her, Chelsea turned back to face the road, trying to tell herself that she hadn’t seen several moving lumps just under the soil. Chelsea knew she had though, like rats under a blanket, all crowding around that red mess, sucking on the blood as it soaked into the ground.

“Shut the fuck up!” she screamed, “There was nothing there!” She ran into the middle of the road without looking back. If she did see anything under the earth, Chelsea just knew that her mind would sap like an overstretched elastic band.

Chelsea skidded to a halt once she figured that she was a safe distance from whatever the fuck she saw. She hurried to the edge of the road, just in case. It would be just her luck for some oncoming lorry to smash into her, at least it would be quick. The bastards always used this stretch of road like a racetrack when it pissed it down. She dared herself to look behind her. Not that was very reassuring; this downpour had reduced visibility down to practically nothing.

Through the rain, Chelsea saw a vague shape slowly coming towards her. Fear gripped her as the shape took human form. In her panicked dash, Chelsea had assumed that the things under the earth had killed and ripped that sheep to pieces. What is she had it all wrong, what if the shape coming towards her had been responsible?

She couldn’t move, her feet refused to shift from the wet road. That thing was going to rip her into bits and there was fuck all she could do about it. A huge scream built up in her chest, the momentum carried it up her throat. She saw a monstrous wet, human face, the contorted features bunched together in fury. Chelsea shrieked out in terror, knowing that she had taken her last breath.

A pair of thick arms reached out through the thick rain and wrapped around her waist, pulling her body into the embrace of a large warm body. “Come on, Chelsea; will you calm it down for crying out fucking loud. It’s me. Look, it’s your Sammie.”

Relief flooded through her body and she broke down in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “What the fuck happening to me? I can’t think straight, I feel like my drink has been fucking spiked.”

Samuel pulled her up and took Chelsea to the side of the road. “You’re not drugged, sweetie. This fucked up scared rabbit sensation has got into nearly everybody, including me.” Samuel pushed her soaked hair away from her eye then leaned down to kiss her. “Just hush and calm that beating heart, baby,” he whispered after breaking away. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand then pulling Chelsea back up the road.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a good reason why I wanted to meet you here.”

She saw not one trace of that sheep was left on the foliage; she wandered if Samuel had seen any of the stuff. He led her up to his car then walked her past in.” Baby, what are you doing?”

“Can you not see it?” he asked pointing to a large structure across the road.

“You mean the McMahon house?” She shivered. “Of course I see it.” Chelsea passed the place on the way to the bridge. She even stopped to watch a couple of pigeons walking along the top floor windowsill. Every kid in Colbeck knew about this place. Three decades ago, a husband, took his shotgun and blew away his three kids and wife before turning the gun on himself. To this day, nobody knew why he had done it. Until they opened the caverns, this had been the village’s only money-spinner.

“You brought me all the way out here to look at that?”

He shook his head. “Don’t be fucking stupid, come and look what we have, sweetie.”

The path to the front of the house had disappeared under weeds decades ago. The trampling of nosey tourists and generations of village kids had created a new path that cut through what used to be the lawn. Chelsea saw that the boards covering the ground floor windows were missing. She was sure the boards were still nailed over the windows when she passed the place an hour ago.

“We’re just a short walk from the village border now, Chelsea.”

She nodded, not really listening. Chelsea was just happy that he was with her and that she’d been able to push away that irrational fear that almost pulled her apart at the seams. Samuel led Chelsea over the crushed and flattened weeds, over to the first window.

“Both Karl and Alex are inside. They’ve got the fear as well. It was their idea to break into the house, neither of them wanted to stay inside the car while I looked for you.” He approached the widow. “Are you still there?” He shouted.

Chelsea tentatively waved as Alex pushed his head through the opening. He saw Chelsea and smiled.

“Hey there, doll. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Did she have that haunted expression etched on his face as well? Alex looked as though he’d just seen Dennis McMahon kills his family with his own two eyes. When Karl came over, Chelsea saw that he looked no better.

“Is he okay?” asked Samuel.

“Yeah,” Karl replied. “He crawled under a table and hasn’t come out yet.”

“Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.” He took Chelsea’s hand. “Come on, Sweetie. I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Wait, who’s hiding under the table? What are you three up to?”

“Do you remember when the guy from the greengrocer’s split up with his wife last year and got pissed up in the Dog and Gun?”

“Of course I do,” she replied. “It was the only interesting thing that happened last year.” Poor Mr Harlan drowned his sorrows in a few shots of single malt before trying to wreck the pub.

“As per usual, our only resident copper jumped to the rescue and calmed him down.”

At well over six foot and built like the side of a barn door, not many villagers would be foolish enough to pick a fight with Darren Huggins. Wait, are you saying that Darren is in there as well?”

Samuel nodded. “The fear took hold of him pretty bad. We found him on the other side of the village, trying to escape.” He took her back over the bridge and walked along the road until they reached the village border.

The rain had finally stopped. “Samuel, I’m wet and cold. Can we just not go home? I don’t even know what we’re doing here.” Chelsea shivered and wondered if he’d mind if they sat in the car, just for a few minutes.

He squeezed her hand. “We’ll go after this, sweetie. I promise.” He nodded back towards the house.” Look they’re here now.”

She gasped at the sight of the two men carrying the huge stumbling wreck between them. Samuel’s friends were a picture of health compared to him. “What’s happened to him?” His face and both his hands were covered in bruises and dried blood. “Oh fuck, no, Samuel, please tell me you lot haven’t done that to him?”

“No,” he replied. “He’s done that to himself.” Samuel nodded over to Alex. “Okay, boys, we’re close enough, let him go.”

They released Darren and jumped back as the man roared and raced towards Chelsea and Samuel.”

“Relax,” he said, comforting her. “It’s not us, he running for.”

Darren ran past them and suddenly bounced back as though he’d just smashed into the thick glass window. He fell back onto the road and lay still.

“What the fuck happened?”

Samuel walked her past his body with his hand out in front of him. He stopped dead and sighed. “Babes, We’re trapped in here,” he said, turning and taking Chelsea’s hand. He pulled it over to meet his.”

“That is not possible,” she gasped when her hand smacked against an invisible wall.

“Possible or not, it’s happened and we’re trapped in Colbeck.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” she sobbed.

Samuel led her back to the car. He opened the door and let her climb into the back seat. He went around the other side and climbed in beside her. She watched the other man roll Darren towards the verge before they made their way back to the car. Her boyfriend squeezed her leg.

“We are all scared because some fucking bastard has gone and killed us all. There was this thing lying dormant in the caverns, it’s been there for centuries and some cunt decided to let it out.” He turned and gazed into her eyes. “We all belong to it, Sweetie, every local can feel its touch.” He banged his fist against his chest. “We can feel it right here, “As soon as the sun goes in, that monstrous fucker is going to come for us, its going to come for us all.”

Chelsea listened to his words and just knew they were true. She watched the other two men climb into the front of the car.

“Baby, the strangers are not affected.” He looked out of the window. “If we round them all up and offer them to this thing, it might delay our capture. “He turned to stare at her. “I do have an idea you see, I think we can stop it.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure you’ll like it though.” He sighed. “You see, it’s was your stupid brother who let this bastard out and my plan involves him.”

“I don’t care what happens to him,” she spat.

Chapter Thirteen

He felt so uncomfortable under the combined stares of the other three adults sitting around the breakfast table. Dan knew that none of them bore him any malice. His parents had already explained that they already knew it was not his fault, and there could been no alternative outcome.

Alison held his hand under the table, her proximity helped to ward off some of that helpless feeling of fright. “Could I have another coffee, mum?”

His dad leaned across the table. “Are you sure that you understand what I’ve just said to you?”

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing. “As far as the rest of the villagers are concerned, this is all my fault.” His mum placed her hands on his shoulders. He saw her smile at Alison. “Dad, can you please tell me what’s going on?. I feel like I’m going out of my mind here.”

His dad took a sip of his drink. It didn’t surprise Dan to see a shot glass full of his last Christmas present from Chelsea. Alcohol hadn’t passed his dad’s lips for over two years. Dan had not been all that shocked to his sister had bought him a bottle of cheap brandy, not when Dan knew that the sly bitch was rather partial to brandy. Nobody had said anything about his sister’s absence. It surprised Dan to find that he hoped she was okay.

“Colbeck village is in the middle of nowhere. This fact, we already know. I’m sure every teen in the village doesn’t stop bitching about our remote location. I know I did when I was your age, and so did your mum.” He took another sip and grimaced. “Christ, this stuff really does taste like paint stripper. Do you see this bruise on my forehead? I got that last night. I was in your sister’s bedroom, standing on a chair and fixing up that shelf she has been nagging about for the last three weeks. As soon as you released that creature from the caverns, all these forgotten racial memories rushed into my head. I fell off and cracked my skull on Chelsea’s footboard.”

His mother placed a drink in front of him. She then poured some of his father’s brandy into the cup. “You’re going to need that.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, darling. I really am.”

“We are his property, Dan, his livestock. Every local born in Colbeck belongs to the master. He’s been sleeping for a thousand years and now he’s awake and he needs to feed.” His dad grabbed his glass with both hands and poured the rest of the liquid down his throat. “If we’re lucky we have a couple more days left to enjoy our lives.”

“What then, dad?” Deep down, he knew that his dad spoke the truth but, unlike him, Dan refused to believe that all was lost. There was no way that he would give up without a fight.

“Once he has you, He infects you, Dan, he injects something that changes you into lesser versions of him. Once he’s enthralled us, he’ll head back to the caverns, taking his livestock with him. With his taint running through your veins, dying from old age is no longer an option. The master will spend the next thousand years feeding on us.”

“How do you know all this?” Alison asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, all these weird memories rushed into my head. It like I was actually there, back when the master awoke. I saw him take and feed on our ancestors.” He shivered. “Oh, Christ, I really do wish I had some fucking Whisky.”

“But this monster can’t take all of us, can he?” Alison frowned. “I mean, if that was the case, how are we here?”

“A farmer doesn’t send all his livestock for slaughter, honey. He keeps the strongest back to replenish the herd.” His mother sighed. “That’s what must have happened a thousand years ago. I’m sure the same will happen this time as well.”

His mum sat down beside his father and poured a shot of brandy into her cup. She looked as though she had aged twenty years since he last saw her this morning.

“So that’s it then is it, mum? We just all give up, lie on our backs and wait for this fucking monster to collect our bodies and put us between two slices of bread? Okay, so this thing ate our ancestors. That was centuries ago. The best weapon that those savages had was a crossbow and a spear. This bastard wouldn’t stand a chance against a tank or an assault rifle.”

His father nodded. “I’m sure you’re right there, son. Trouble is, do you have a tank hidden under your bed? I’m sure your mum would have noticed when she cleaned out your bedroom on Monday.”

“I’m not going to give up!” he snapped, jumping to his feet. “There must be some way of taking down this thing.”

Alison reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone and placed it on the table. “Most of us have a mobile,” she said, looking at Dan. “Our village can seem a bit backward at times but modern technology hasn’t completely forgotten Colbeck.” She scrolled down on her address book and stopped at a name right at the bottom. “I used to go to school with Donna Brightman. Her family moved to Leeds ten years ago. They weren’t from around here so, they wouldn’t be infected.” Her finger just hovered over the call icon. “No matter what I do, I just cannot call her. Like there’s an invisible barrier between me and the call icon.”

Dan reached down and found that he could not press it either. “That’s just not possible.” He looked over at his parents expecting them to have ‘I told you so’ smirks plastered over their faces. Instead, all he saw was misery.

Alison slid her phone towards her. “Maybe there was something in the caverns that will help kill this thing,” she said. “Here you go, Dan. These are the photos I took.”

Unlike Dan, Alison’s phone had a top of the range camera built in. the pictures she had taken were so clear, it almost felt as though he was standing right next to that pile of bones. He enlarged the picture, focussing on a small skull, lying on the ground, a distance away from the other bones.

Dan’s eyes began to close, he felt the image grow pulling him closer. His surroundings disappeared, all he saw was the rough rock surrounding him.

He sat, with the others, at the back of the cavern, watching the master seal up the chamber. Benedict shivered, he clamped his teeth together to stop them chattering. No matter how tight he pulled the woollen cloak around his thin body or how close he got to the rest of the flock, Benedict just could not warm up.

A collective groan of despair rose from the other eighteen survivors as their last glimpse of daylight vanished forever. Benedict closed his eyes, fell back against the floor and opened his mouth, feeling the howl of hopelessness blast out of his throat. All the others followed his lead. The background noise abruptly ceased, it took him a few more moments to realise that only he was making any sound. Benedict’s eyes snapped open and found eighteen pairs of lantern red eyes glaring at him.

Despite the complete lack of any light, he had no problem seeing the others or their master slowly threading his way towards him.

“You, are now amongst friends.” He said. The master got down on one knee, bringing himself down to Benedict’s level. “There is no need to cry now, you’re safe here.” The man pointed at four of the men stood behind him, they scurried over to him. “Take a limb each and spread him.”

He struggled, screamed and tried to bite any of them who got two close to his slavering jaws. “Put me down!” he cried. The men continued their instructions in silence, fearfully glancing towards the master who gave them muted encouragement. They lifted him off the floor and kept him secured whilst holding Benedict’s arms and legs. “You said I would be safe!”

The master leaned over his body and used the sharp claws at the ends of his fingers to cut away the clothes. “So I did,” he replied. “You, my friend are the lucky one. Your agony will only last you for a few weeks. It will take me that time to reduce your flesh to a few gnawed clean bones. I want you to spare a thought for the ones you leave behind, Benedict. They will live with this the knowledge that this is all they have to look forward to.”

The master gently dragged his claw down Benedict’s chest and torso, until he reached his groin. “I’m going to start with my favourite piece first,” he said, drooling. The master’s mouth opened, his jaw unhinged and his whole body crashed forward.

Dan’s eyes snapped open and he shrieked out.

“Oh my god!” gasped his mother. “I thought you would never wake up.” She said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “You’ve been out of it for over an hour. What happened to you?”

He leaned back in the chair and shook. The experience of being down there in that cavern was still vivid in his head. Benedict’s memories clung to his mind like hungry leeches. He saw raiders from the next village riding into the village whilst the men were away on the hunt. Through a seven-year-old child’s eyes, Dan watched three huge men rip his mother out of his sister’s terrified grasp and drag the screaming women to their horses.

Dan remembered his father taking Benedict on his first hunt, five years after the raid on their village. He gritted his teeth at the traumatic memory of that panicking boar slipping through the ropes and charging into him, breaking several bones and crippling him for years.

Dan felt the overwhelming tide of ecstasy when his wife to be first singled him out to be her mate and then wept as that monster brought death to their village, three months later.  He witnessed the grief and anger while watching helpless as a group of changed villagers raped, kill and then tear her body apart to eat her.

“Babes, come on, you need to snap out of it.”

Dan lifted his head, trying to stop the alien memories from engulfing his own. He looked at Alison’s concerned face, seeing the image of Benedict’s young wife superimposed over Dan’s girlfriend. He screwed up his eyes, opened them wide and rapidly blinked. Alison’s face cleared. Dan threw his arms around her neck and hugged her tight. “Oh baby,” he cried. “We just have to find some way of ending this fucking evil.”

He watched his mother run out of the kitchen and into the hall. Dan heard the front door open and the sound of Colin’s excitable voice. He wished he could stop all this torrent of conflicting emotions sandblasting his delicate mind. Dan needed to think his way through this. Their must be a solution. The wall clock informed him that they still had a good few hours of daylight left. He needed to rest and relax.

“Thank god you lot are all right!” said Colin. “I would have got here a lot earlier, but I’ve spent most of the morning avoiding everybody.” He picked up a glass of water from the kitchen table. “Thank you, Mrs Wilson,” he replied. “You have no idea how thirsty I am.” He emptied the glass and gave it back to Dan’s mother. “We need to find somewhere safer,” he hissed, glancing towards the window. “Samuel Lane and his dickhead mates have worked up the locals into a right state. They already know that you’re the one that released it and they’re on their way here right now.”

Chapter Fifteen

In terms of fun tasks that Karl could have chosen to do today, this one rated a single notch above having to clean out his dad’s shitty cowshed. He knew that Samuel had somehow duped him into doing this. Oh yes, Karl may not be that blessed with a bucket full of smarts but he wasn’t that fucking dumb.

He slowly ran his fingers down the long barrel of his new gift, enjoying the feel of cold steel against his skin. Oh yeah, that Samuel certainly knew which buttons to press alright.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone on all the fucking time to Samuel about how much he loved rifles? Thinking back, Karl had acted like a desperate queer, with wanting to shoot Samuel’s guns.

He sighed, then again, if that cunt of a dad hadn’t banned him from ever owning a gun in the first place, he wouldn’t have need to play with Samuel’s. Like that accident five years ago had been Karl’s fault?

If that stupid fucking retard of a brother hadn’t gotten in his way, the silly cunt wouldn’t have ended up with a bullet in his leg. Hell, it’s not as if Jacob had died or anything. Okay, so the dickhead now walked with a bit of a limp. It hadn’t stopped the randy little bastard from pulling the birds. For a fifteen year old, that little cunt sure knew how to get the girls.

Karl dropped down onto his makeshift seat, it wasn’t fair. Samuel could have at least given him something proper to sit on, this overturned milk crate was playing havoc with his arse. He kept a firm grip on his rifle, thinking back to that day, thinking of the panic running through his body at the sight of Jacob rolling about on the wet grass, clutching his blood soaked leg and howling in agony. His dad had battered the fuck out of him for that, yet it had been him who’d told Karl that he could go duck shooting on the canal in the first place.

Still, his dad was one of the others now, he’d become a changed thing, a fate that Karl had almost suffered last night. If it hadn’t been for his quick reactions and the fact that he never kept his bedroom window locked, Karl would have joined the others in the cowshed. At least his should thank his dad for at least something. If the old bastard hadn’t beat on him all the god damn time and chased him up and down the farm when he’d been at the vodka, Karl wouldn’t be so nippy with his legs.

“I wonder what happened to our Jacob?” That cunt sure as fuck wasn’t nippy in his legs. “Thanks to me,” he muttered. Shit, the bastard will be as sound as a pound. That kid sure knew how to look after himself.

Gun or no gun, Karl still knew that his buddy was holding out on him. Course he was, the cunt always did. Him and his flash new fuckpiece had something planned, probably a way to get out of this fuck up. Was Alex in on it as well? Karl weren’t too sure about that one. Although, he wouldn’t put hard money down on that little unknowable factoid.

For the life in him, Karl could not figure out what that sly fucker had up his sleeve, get the fuck out of dodge was definitely out of the question. They had already proved that with Darren Huggins. Karl had mentioned to Samuel about driving out. He’d received a right nasty glare for that idea. Samuel had asked him what he thought would have happened when the car hit that barrier at high speed. The car might have gone through but the bodies would have just detonated. The inside of the car would have looked like a jam factory after an earthquake.

At had to be something to do with that Dan Wilson kid.

Those bastards had all gone into the Dog and Gun about an hour ago, leaving him on fucking guard duty. Yeah, Samuel had pressed his fucking button, sweetened him up with the gift of a rifle and told him that he had an important job, according to him, the most important job in the village.

Karl had to guard the prisoners, and make sure none of the cunts escaped. Samuel had looked him in the eye and given Karl the serious look, he’d explained that if these fools had got out, the master would be picking the meat off all their bones as soon as the sun set. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure but maybe Samuel’s fuckpiece had smirked at that time?

He’d done a lot of thinking back while he’d been sat on his arse, twiddling his thumbs while the others had got on with important stuff. For a start, how come he was the only one who was still shitting himself? Oh, most of the time, Karl could keep that helpless feeling of flight under control most of the time, there were still occasions when it rose up, grabbed his throat and made him want to piss his pants. Yet, none of the others showed the slight trace of fear in their faces as they walked past him.

They were definitely up to something. The more he pondered, the more sure he was that they were plotting and he was not part of their plans. Karl turned and peered into the horse carrier. Through the metal slats, he saw that the miserable looking bunch, slumped at the back were all sleeping. He nodded to himself and checked the padlock yet again. There would have been no way that any of those jokers could have gotten out of that. What the fuck was he here for, tooled up to the eyeballs with a farmer’s shotgun and enough ammo in his pocket to start a small war.

He could be with the others in that warm pub; no doubt the beer would be on the house. Karl reckoned it would be a help yourself night as well, the landlord was in the cowshed with his dad. He threw himself back down on the crate. This was just not fucking fair. Did he not have anything useful to say? Did they think he really was so stupid?

Yeah well, as far as he was concerned, they could all fuck themselves. Samuel thought he knew all the answers just because he happened to know what was going on. Oh sure, a few of the other’s had picked up some bits. Mrs Whittaker, the cute blonde who worked in the bank, had told whoever who would listen that she could put names to every bone in the chamber.

Karl hadn’t been too sure how that could have helped in their situation, but he didn’t say anything. Besides, she had nice tits. As far as he could work out, Samuel had more pieces to the puzzle than any other villager. The bastard had gotten his rocks off by explaining to everyone just what was going to happen when the monster had taken the villagers to that chamber.

Samuel had made sure that Karl had been present for that meeting all right.

The bastard didn’t know everything though, Not one person had asked the most obvious question. If that monster had depopulated their village back in the distant past, just where the fuck did the present population come from? Karl grinned at his own cleverness. For him, it was fucking obvious. A few of those medieval tossbags must have gotten away. Karl knew they wouldn’t have been able to get out so, that meant finding a fucking good hiding place.

Nobody knew this village better than him, that’s for goddamm sure. There were a shitload of places that he could hustle down. Hell, he bet that even the woods freak, Ethan, didn’t know about the old water pipe that ran under those woods. The pipe was massive, it could hold a bus full of people and still have room for a brass band and a hotdog stand.

Bollocks to it let those peacocks prance around, forming their clever plans and thinking they had this fuckup licked. Karl now had plans of his own. They were the ones who that monster would go for; they’d just pass ole Karl by. All he had to do was to find a secure spot and lie low for a couple of days. Nothing could go wrong.

Karl leaned back against the horse carrier; he took out a roll-up and placed it between his lips. He would need a few basic supplies, of course. He’d need enough food to last him for a couple days, plenty of beer, some more baccy and, if he could get them, a few porn mags.

“Is there any chance of a smoke, buddy?”

Karl slowly twisted around and blinked, well this was a surprise. It appeared that the egghead wasn’t as sleepy as he assumed. “I didn’t know you were a smoker. There were none on you when I went through your pockets.” Karl reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded photograph.

“I did find this though, hidden away in your wallet,” he said, opening up the picture and holding it up. “This is one fuckable gal.”

The old man nodded, “It’s my daughter and I’d rather you didn’t address her in such a degraded manner.”

Karl burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it, oh man, that had to be the best come back he’d heard in ages. “Do you seriously expect me to believe that?”

The man shrugged. “Believe what you want.”

“Well, I suggest you play nice, mister. You’re the one who’s begging for a cig and I’m the one with the gun.” He turned the pic around and gazed in lust at the twenty something half-naked blonde spread over a table. She hadn’t left much to the imagination. That tight blue short skirt just hugged that full figure and the thin t-shirt stretched over her braless torso gave him a raging hard on by just thinking about how sweet her large titties would taste in his mouth. He wouldn’t need those porn mags, the picture of this hottie would probably keep him going of a couple of days, then again, maybe not. Although, it was doubtful that this old bastard had actually fucked her, would he really want to wap off thinking that this decrepit old goat had shot his muck into her first. No, fuck that, he’d get some porn mags.

Karl threw the photo into the carrier and grinned while watching the old man try to catch it before it disappeared under the black water by the man’s boots. “Well, if that was my daughter, I’d lock the bitch away until she learned how to put some more concealing clothes on. Not that she is your daughter, I ain’t a total moron, you know.”

He passed through a roll-up when the man stood back up. “Look man, I’m really sorry about all this shit.” Karl lit the cig for him. “In all honesty, you really should have stayed at home. You picked a bad time to visit.”

“Just let us go, Karl. You know this is wrong.”

Hearing a stranger call his name, rattled him. Karl had no idea how the old man knew that. Unless Samuel must have shouted it out. That made sense, Samuel said the bloke and his MILF were scientists or something. Clever folk picked up on name remembering. Karl looked past him and watched his wife, she did looked like she was sleeping. “I don’t get this, mate. Your woman is still pretty tasty and she’s got a decent set of tits on her. Why start boning some bird who’s just left school?”

The old man slowly smiled. He looked behind him before leaning against the bars. “I’ll tell you anything you want, if you release us, Karl.” He whispered. “Hell, I reckon that my wife will be so grateful, she’s bound to let you bone her. I know you like her.” The man sighed and softly moaned. “I’m telling you, mate, you haven’t lived until you experience that thing that my wife can do with the tip of her tongue.”

The temptation was right there, he could actually feel his hands heading for the key in his trouser pockets. He paused. “Wait, you wake up the wife, tell her that you’ve been fucking the slag behind her back.” He ran his finger down the metal bars and stopped at the gap by his groin. “Then you get the woman to kneel down in this pissy water and you get her to use the tip of her tongue on my cock.” Karl watched the man’s face turn as pale as the moon.

“Yeah, I thought as much. You really are full of shit. Just cos I’m a country local, you think you can use lots of big words to muddle up my head. Well, fuck you, mate. You’ll be dead soon anyway.”

The old man took a deep breath. “Shit. Look, I’m sorry. I’ll admit that I did try to take advantage. You didn’t have to give me this cigarette did you? I’ll tell you what. I know you’re about to leave, just let us go before you do. Nobody will know any better.”

He shook his head. “Not a chance, mate. You see, the bit about where this monster munches on you strangers to give us locals a bit more time? Well that’s one thing that I fucking do believe.”

He turned and picked up his rifle.

“Wait! As soon as you go, I’ll start to scream. The others will down here in no time. I bet that you’ll be in this carrier with us so quickly, your feet won’t touch the floor.”

“Good threat,” said Karl, giggling. “They’re all in the pub with free beer. Do you honestly think they are in a fit state to force a big bloke armed with a rifle into that carrier?” Karl hurried away. He gave the dirty old man a single wave before he broke into a sprint. He needed to get out of the main village centre, just in case the old man did start bellowing out.

Karl heard no sounds; the daft bastard had probably gone back into his corner to cry himself back to sleep. He shrugged his shoulders, fuck them, fuck Samuel and fuck the rest of them. He needed nobody and now that his pa was gone, no fucker would tell Karl Briers what to do ever again.

Before he headed for that pipe, Karl still needed supplies. The supermarket in the middle of the village had just about everything he needed, but there wasn’t chance of him going back there. The hardware store on the outskirts would have a few canvas rucksacks and a decent sleeping bag. As for the food, mags, extra baccy and other shit like that, he could always break into one of the cottages behind the shop.

Thinking about this, maybe Karl should get the food first. Breaking into some cottage with a sleeping bag stuffed under his arm was just dumb.  He broke into a full run and charged past the rest of the buildings in the village. He saw the hardware shop just a few hundred yards from where he was. Karl crossed the road and jumped over a low wall, eager to get off the main road.

He wasn’t going to take any chances. He hadn’t heard the old man shouting out but despite what Karl boasted about, Samuel would not just forget about Karl’s job. Just one peek out of the pub window was all it would take for Samuel to see that he’d left his post. Where wasn’t a chance in hell that Karl was going to get caught, not by the monster and certainly not by Samuel.

Karl ran through the gardens and leapt over the hedges and walls that separated each property. The hardware store as now directly in front of him. Karl slowed down and grinned when he saw just what he was looking for. Two gardens from where he stood, he noticed that some poor dear must have rushed out of her house without even bothering to slide her patio door closed.

Talk about a golden opportunity! He ran through the two gardens and stopped outside the dark house, wondering if it was safe to turn on a few lights. If the owner had forgotten to close the door then it made sense that they’d have no clue if which of the house lights were on or off.

He left the light switch alone, not wanting to tempt fate. His plan was simple, he only wanted to see if there was anything to eat right now in here. After Karl had stuffed his face, then he could start to stock up.

A sandwich would see him through until he could get himself bedded down nice and safe in that pipe. Karl made his way into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. He paused just the once to open a few cupboard doors. The sight of all the tins jammed in the cupboard was just brilliant. Karl had struck paydirt in the first house. Just how lucky was that? He had expected to visit a few homes to get what he needed. He just hoped that the fridge was overflowing with goodies as well.

The internal light showed Karl all manner of cooked meats, slices of cheese, a few pork pies and a whole cooked chicken. “Fuck me,” he gasped. Karl took out the chicken and the meat and placed it on the counter top while looking out of the window, wondering if it may be worthwhile just to see if there was a rucksack in this house as well. Should he really tempt his good fortune?

There must be something in this house that he could use, even a canvas carrier bag would do the trick. Karl broke off a chicken leg and ripped off a lump of meat with his teeth while hurrying over to the stairs.

God, this chicken was well nice. He wondered who lived here. Judging by crappy floral wallpaper, the stupid ornaments and all the framed prints positioned on the wall leading upstairs that showed the Colbeck countryside, he decided that it must belong to some decrepit old woman. As he climbed the stairs, he adjusted his image of the homeowner. The woman couldn’t be that knackered, these steps were well steep.

He reached the top of the stairs and peered into the first room. He saw a pile of bulging black bin liners stacked along the far wall and a couple of old dining chairs next to the window. Somehow, Karl didn’t think he’d find exactly what he was looking for in the first room he look in.

The curtains were drawn in the next bedroom but there was enough light to see a large rucksack in the middle of a double bed. “Well, thank you, God, Jesus and his slutty mum. My luck really is holding out.”

As he neared the end of the bed, his nostrils picked out the foul stench of rot. Karl padded along the edge and noticed a slumped figure in the corner of the room. He looked at the half-chewed chicken leg in his hand, guessing that he now knew what happened to the old lass who bought all the food. The empty bottle of pills was still clenched in the woman’s hand.

Karl took another bite out of the leg; this meant he didn’t have to rush anymore. He finished off the meat and threw the bone at the woman. “Life deals you shite cards sometimes, you stupid old bag. I’d have thought that at your age, you’d have figured it out by now.”

He reached for the rucksack, still not believing his good luck. The only thing he needed now were a stack of porn mags. Looking at the sad looking body, he doubted very much he’d find any of those in here. Still, it was worth a look.

Alex had shown him more than a few websites that catered for that kind of stuff. He knew Alex got off on the sight of all that wrinkly flesh. It couldn’t harm to just have one peek under the mattress.

He pulled the rucksack off the bed, dived on the covers and threw the woman’s pillows on the floor. They pillows stunk of old perfume and menthol. Something told Karl that he was wasting his time; the only thing that probably turn that on that dead bitch was a fucking new knitting pattern or a recipe for lemon cakes.

He rolled on his back and sighed, this was just daft, hell, he’d only be away for a day or too, surely he could give hive libido a break for a few hours. “You’re one hot motherfucker,” he said, gazing at the ceiling. A scream caught in his throat when he saw someone, anchored to the ceiling, looking back down at him.

“Hello there, Karl,” Oozed the huge figure. “I sure hope you weren’t thinking of hiding away were you?”

Karl shook his head, wondering why he couldn’t move.

“I do believe you are lying to me. I can see the urge to flee in your eyes, my son. Don’t fret, I’m not too upset. Some of you do try to slip through my grasp, none so far have succeeded.”

The creature’s crimson eyes locked into his, Karl felt as though the monster was stripping away his memories, layer by layer.”

“I’m impressed,” he said, chuckling. “But, there are fifty-three of my furry little friends, shivering away and cowering inside that pipe. Now, I couldn’t allow all those little teeth to end your life” The monster then swung down, his feet still attached to the ceiling. “A good Shepard keeps an eye on his flock.”

Karl shrieked in paralytic terror as the monster’s jaw opened.

Chapter Fifteen

She had heard every word of that conversation. Georgina’s quiet gasp at the mention of that photograph almost gave her away. Their guard’s harsh laughter had thankfully covered up her noise. That sense of betrayal returned with intensity when she realised that he’d blatantly lied to her. What made it worse was that, like a silly naive woman, she every sweet word that dripped from his betraying lips.

Her eyes might have been closed, but she knew exactly what that tart must have looked like in the picture. Somebody who doesn’t want anything to do with a woman does not keep a half naked picture of the woman in his wallet. When their guard spurted out his vile suggestion, Georgina almost opened her eyes, ran over to those bars, and pulled down his zip. That would have shown her cheating husband not to fuck with her.

When the man had finally left, she almost wished that she had used her tongue on that foul-mouthed man, he might have taken her with him. Georgina became bored of feigning sleep. She opened her eyes, stood up and walked over to the bars. She nearly swallowed her tongue in excitement when she saw that the idiot had dropped his keys by the side of the milk crate.

She spun around and saw Ethan staring at her. He waved. “Are you okay?” he whispered. He stood up and brushed the dirt from his trousers. Ethan hurried over to the bars and looked up. “We don’t have much time left. I don’t want to die.”

Georgina grabbed the side of his head and showed him the dropped keys. “We don’t have to die; all we need to do is reach them.”

The boy eagerly nodded. The apathy and dread just fell off him, his whole body invigorated. “Oh, thank fuck,” he blurted out. Ethan beamed at the woman. “I can get those, easily!”

The boy ran over to William’s sleeping form and carefully took the laces out of his boots, he then scrambled around on the floor until he found a small stone. Georgina watched him work, knotting them together and tying the stone to one end. He then ran back over to her.

“Um, this is a bit embarrassing but, can I have your bra please?”

“How can I resist an offer like that?” she replied, winking. Georgina reached under her shirt and unhooked the bra. After slipping her arms out of the straps, she passed it to Ethan.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, but this will probably ruin it.”

She shrugged. What did that matter? Should it surprise her that she asked the boy for help instead of him? He was still slumped in the corner; Georgina had a bloody good mind to leave him in here. She’d love to see the look on his face if he awoke to find himself all alone with the sun slowly setting.

The boy had constructed a sling mechanism and grunting with determination, he pushed his arm through the slat, trying to get those keys. He hadn’t succeeded yet though. A small stone shifted to one side, close to her husband’s foot. Georgina watched in astonishment as a tiny mole pushed its tiny body out onto the floor and scurried along side William’s inner thigh. She had never seen anything like that before.

What was it doing? She was no botanist but Georgina was sure that moles shunned humans, even sleeping ones. “Ethan, I know this is a stupid question but, do you have friendly moles in your village?”

He stopped, looked at her curiously. “Why are you asking me that?” he replied. “There were some tame squirrels that used to beg for food in the woods.”

She pointed over to her husband, shaking her head as the mole jumped onto his lap and proceeded and clamber up the front of his shirt. It truly amazed her that William hadn’t felt anything, then again, he’d always been a heavy sleeper.

The boy gasped, “Oh fuck!” Her jumped up and ran over to him. As soon as Ethan’s shadow passed over the mole, the animal responded by squealing then using its powerful front legs to rip through William’s shirt and shred his chest.

William certainly woke then. He screamed out in agony and looked down; watching in disbelief as the animal used its powerful claws to rip though the man’s tender flesh, it pushed its snout into the raw wound. Ethan reached down, grabbed its back paws and pulled it out; the boy slammed it against the floor before jumping up and down on its twitching body.

She found herself thrown back against the bars when she tried to check on William.

“He’s gone,” hissed Ethan, holding her back. “Go near him and he’ll infect you too. Come on, you’re supposed to be a scientist, think about it.”

Georgina watched helplessly as William writhed about, across the dusty floor, while Ethan desperately tried to reach the keys. “We’ve got to help him!” When she moved again, he grabbed her wrist and pulled Georgina back.

“Please, lady. You need to believe me. If we don’t get out of here, right now, he’s going do to us what that fucking mole did to him!”

Her husband’s body jerked once before lying still. She moaned softly to herself, just knowing that he was dead. He saw the boy quickly glance over at his body. He cursed then went back to trying to reach the keys. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wanted to scream out. This was a fucking nightmare. Her nightmare then intensified when her husband started to move his fingers. She watched horror struck as his fingers dug into the hard packed soil as if it was soft sand.

William shuddered once then slowly lifted his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. The man only looked towards them when Ethan cried out.

“Shit, I’ve got them!”

Georgina tried not to piss herself when the turned to look directly at her. His crimson eyes fixed the woman with a glare of pure hate. Georgina saw nothing of her husband left in those primal features. He got to his feet and started to advance. Ethan pressed the keys into the palm of her hand. He jumped up and silently charged into the man.

His sudden action took the creature totally by surprise. Georgina watched Ethan slam him into the back of the carrier before fumbling the key into the lock. The boy screamed out in pain but she didn’t turn around. She grabbed the handle and turned it, shouting in shock as the door actually opened. She spun around, swung her fist into the side of the creature’s head before dragging the boy off him and pulling Ethan out of the carrier.

She ran over to the door, trying to lock it before the creature could escape. As soon as she reached the door, the creature dived forward, smashing his fists against the door and laughing and it swung back, catching Georgina. She fell back dazed.

“The sun’s gone in!” cried Ethan. “Get up and run.”

She heard his boots hit the ground and saw his face lean over, blocking out what little light that was left..

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said.

She shrank back, watching his teeth change and elongate, sharp ridged formed along the surfaces. William’s mouth filled with blood.

“Oi, fuckhead!”

She saw him spin around, just as an intense blast of searing white light hit him in the face. It was as if somebody had scorched his head with a flamethrower. His flesh just melted and ran like boiling wax, down his shoulders. Ethan turned off the lamp; he packed it back into his rucksack before running over to help her up.

“I’m so sorry about William,” he said. “Look, we’d better find somewhere to hide. Those people must have heard that noise.” He looked up. “Besides, it’ll be getting dark pretty soon. You’ve seen what happens what the sun isn’t around.”

Georgina shook her head, “We are not hiding anywhere, lad. We find a car and get the hell out of here. We need to alert the authorities, Ethan.”

“I can’t leave! I’m a local. You heard what they said earlier about them not being able to leave. Georgina. I’m sorry, look, there’s no need for you to stay.” He fearfully looked towards the pub. “I can get you a car. Look over at that old Ford escort, parked outside the chip shop. That belongs to Mr Wilberforce. The door will be unlocked and the keys are in the glovebox.”

She shook her head. “No way, I’m not leaving you, Ethan.” She held him tight and kissed him. “You saved my life. We’re in this together.” Georgina looked at the boy’s rucksack. “How did you know that the light would do that?”

“I didn’t. I just couldn’t think of anything else to try, besides, none of them seem to be too crazy about the sun.”

“In that case, I suggest that we go back to the caverns. It’ll be the safest place.”

“I’m sorry; did I just hear that correctly?”

Georgina nodded. “Yes you did. We both know that those things are not hiding in there, if they were, my husband and I wouldn’t have got out alive. They’ll be out in the village tonight, hunting down the locals, besides, if your lamp does that to them, imagine what a dozen arc lights with do.”

They both looked up towards the pub at the sound of a door slamming shut.

“Shit!” cried Ethan. We need to move it.”

Georgina watched a large stocky built man in his early forties walk towards the horse carrier, she pulled Ethan around the corner and ducked behind a post box and waited for him to make the inevitable discovery.

“It’s Alison’s dad,” hissed Ethan.

Was she expected to know who Alison was? Georgina, assumed it must be a neighbour or an old girlfriend maybe. She heard Ethan crawl away and watched the man slowly walk up to her dead husband. He didn’t appear to be all that moved by the fact that he now had no flesh on his head. It surprised her to find that she felt exactly the same, she felt no connection to him now.

He nudged the dead man’s body with his foot before peering into the horse carrier’s open door. The man then spun around. This time there was urgency to his movements. Now that he’d turned his back, she felt a little safer. They needed to get out of here.

“He isn’t going to tell on us,” said Ethan, pushing past her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The boy stopped in the middle of the street and pushed the butt of a rifle into his shoulder.

“I’m going to drop the cunt,” he replied, taking aim.

She yelped as Ethan pulled the trigger and the man dropped to the floor.

“Got him,” he said. “This is so much more powerful than my rifle.”

Georgina grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the car he mentioned, hoping to god Ethan was right about the car keys and the unlocked door. She heard the pub door opening.

Chapter Sixteen

It took a big man to admit that he was past his prime. Tony Lane sat up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and patiently waited for his fucked up eyeballs to remember how to focus. At forty-eight, Tony knew deep down that if he didn’t stop the binge drinking, he’d end up under the dirt before he clocked this decade.

He had no idea how much he’d put away last night, nor could he remember how much the session had cost him. Tony decided to wait for a bit longer before he weighed his wallet. His eyes presented him with bright yellow floral wallpaper, a fucking horrible multi-coloured carpet that made him dizzy and a neon-pink quilt cover.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked, when out of sequence fragments of last night’s activity knocked on his brain-door and jumped inside. “There wasn’t a chance in hell of sorting out those memories into an order that he could understand, at least not yet. He sighed as a figure beside him shuffled closer to him.

None of those memories showed him just who he had fucked last night, Tony imagined his neck was an oiled ball-bearing and swung his head to the side. Pulling his eyes to the bottom of his sockets, he saw a slim human shape trying to cuddle up to his hairy body. Oh, this could be potentially embarrassing. Judging from the room’s décor, he’d gone and used his honey tongued words on another teenager.

Shit, that meant yet more cold stares and disgruntled looked for the rumour-spreading village fishwives. Whilst overflowing with ale, Tony’s schoolie radar must have just gave up the ghost. All he saw were a pretty smile, nice tits and a willingness to climb onto his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lifting up the cover. She looked barely old enough to drink, never mind performing bedroom sports. He dragged his rough hands down her side, not too surprised to see his cock stiffening when the girl beside him sighed and giggled in her sleep.

Tony pushed her dark brown hair back so he could find out just who he had picked up. Last night. The hope of finding a stranger who preferably looked over eighteen, flew out of the open window when he recognised the girl’s face. She was over the age of consent alright, thank fuck, but the good news stopped right there.

“You really have landed in the shit this time, Tony.” He quietly climbed out of the bed and looked on the floor, trying to find his clothes. He needed to get the fuck out of here and just hoped that his best mate’s pretty daughter was as pissed as he was last night. This was so fucking embarrassing.

He spotted his gear hung over a chair close by the door and hurried over, trying not to make a single sound. What the fuck was he playing at? The girl was just a fucking child, hell, he’d even changed her nappy and bottle fed her. Tony climbed into his boxers and allowed a smirk to play over his lips. He’d hadn’t done that last night of course, now that would have been weird and pervy.

Even so, why didn’t those warning bells go off last night? The bitch had come on to him a few times in the past, until last night, he’d managed to resist Emma Clark’s octopus like arms. Tony pulled his t-shirt over his muscular frame and nervously glanced back towards the bed, Now that he’d fully woken, he was absolutely terrified.

His terror increased when Tony saw just how late it was. Hell, they’d slept through most of the day. What the fuck will his wife think? She was used to him not coming back home. He took his trousers off the chair, almost feeling his heart burst in shock as the chair tipped over.

“Get a grip!” he muttered. What the fuck was wrong with him today? Tony picked up the chair, slipped on his shoes and quietly opened the bedroom door. Apart from his own ragged breathing that he just couldn’t keep under control, he heard no other sound. The rest of the household were either still asleep or weren’t in the house.

He should have greeted this news with joy, instead it only increased Tony’s fear. Hot salty tears dripped onto the carpet, between his feet. Tony grabbed hold of the banister and squeezed tight, watching his knuckles whiten. He lifted one hand off the varnished pine, he formed a fist and swung it into the wall beside him. The plaster around the impact cracked. Tony had left a few spots of blood on the pale green wall but that didn’t matter.

Tony gritted his teeth while he dragged his damaged knuckles down the wall, leaving an impressive trail of blood. The intense pain and the burning soon covered over that alien sensation of wanting to hide, shivering under the stairs. Fuck that, he was Tony Lane. He was the biggest and nastiest badass motherfucker in Colbeck. He was scared of nothing and nobody.

Let daddy say his piece. Fine, so Tony had fucked his slutty daughter. So, he might have overstepped the friendship line, but that Emma had been begging for a taste of Tony’s cock for far too long.

“As for the wife, well she can fuck herself as well.” He punched the wall one more time before making his way down the stairs. Tony needed to stuff his face, god, his stomach thought he had cut his throat.

As he wondered into the kitchen, he smiled as the memory of a little more his antics from last night finally decided to make an appearance. It annoyed him that the recollections were of some guy getting fresh outside the chip shop and not of him sorting out that Emma. He really did want to remember the sex bit.

Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a packet of cooked turkey. He opened the packet and pushed two slices into his mouth while looking for anything else to eat. Tony laughed when he spotted a scotch egg stuffed right at the back. It’s almost as if Emma’s mum knew he was staying. She knew that Tony loved them. He stood up and peered out of the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

Where the fuck was the girl’s parents? He found it pretty hard to believe that either Steven or Christina hadn’t noticed Emma’s new addition. He could understand his mate not disturbing him but not Christina. If that bitch caught an inkling that Tony had been inside her pretty daughter, she’d pushed a shotgun right up his arse and given him both barrels.

“That Christina wouldn’t mess around.” The only thing that made sense was they hadn’t come home last night, either. Tony checked the door and found it locked with the keys on the inside, he still couldn’t remember much of last night. He certainly didn’t remember Emma locking the kitchen door.

No, they couldn’t have come back, if they had, Tony would have probably woken up in hospital with his arse full of grapeshot. He stuffed half the scotch egg into his mouth and walked to the foot of the stairs, pausing to look into the living room. He just check the rest of the rooms before walking back into Emma’s room and climbing back into bed with her.

What’s the point of giving himself a headache, trying to remember what they got up to last night? If they had the house to themselves, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted to each other. Tony couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening. Christ, it was a lot fucking better than sitting on their tattered couch in his living room, watching the usual shite on the box. That cow of a wife would be there, right now, dipping her fat fingers into his chocolates while lost in some boring soap. She probably won’t even be missing him. More likely, she’ll be glad he wasn’t there.

Tony climbed the stairs and finished off the last piece of scotch egg. He tried to remember if Emma’s parents had something on tonight, nothing came to mind but that didn’t surprise him, his brain still hadn’t revved back up to first gear yet. “A quick dip into the girl’s sweet well will sort that problem out.”

Tony stopped outside her parent’s door and placed his ear to the wood, he heard no snoring and any quiet conversation. He opened their door and smiled at the sight of their empty bed. That suited him right down to the ground. He turned around and grinned, wondering if Emma had ever done it in this nice big bed. Knowing her reputation, Tony guessed he’d be able to tick that box straight away. The loose bitch hadn’t done it with him in there though.

“I’ll soon alter that.” He left their door wide open and pushed open the girl’s door, smiling when he saw that she’d woken. Emma wiped her eyes and yawned.

“Hey there,” she said, smiling. “I thought you’d sneaked off back home.”

He shook his head, “not a chance of that, baby.”

Emma giggled. “Good, then I think we should carry on from where we left off.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he replied. “Maybe we could do with a little more room?” Tony gestured towards her parent’s open door.

“You’re kidding, right? The pair of them would have a fucking heart attack if they found out we had used their bed.”

Tony had to stop and think about that one, was this girl for real? “Sweetheart, Do you not think they’d be a little more concerned about finding out about me?” Tony walked over to the bed and pulled off the quilt. “Oh, whoops, your quilt is on the floor, you must be so cold. Why don’t you let me warm you up.”

The girl leaped out of bed and flew into his arms. She ran her hands down his body until they reached his behind. Emma licked his chin. “I so need to feel you inside me,” she moaned.

He moaned too when she slipped both her warm hands inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his stiffening shaft. “Come on, you. No foreplay.” Tony grabbed her arm and dragged the giggling girl out of her bedroom. He pushed her onto the double bed and pulled down his boxers.

“Oh, Fuck me, she gasped when Tony climbed onto the bed. “I don’t remember it being so big last night.”

He positioned himself between her spread legs. “Babes, we were both pissed out of our heads. I can’t remember anything what we did last night. I intend that we both remember this time. Now shut up and relax.”

Tony grew harder when he saw Emma look down before placing her lip between those pearl white teeth. He used his thumb to guide his penis inside her, releasing a quiet moan as the girl caught her breath. He pushed his full length into her, pinning her thighs to the bed when she bucked.

“Oh god, oh fuck, Tony!” she screamed.

“Oh yes, bitch, shout out my name.”

Emma suddenly sat up and slapped away his hands. “You need to get off me!” she gasped. “I don’t fucking believe this.” She rolled off the bed and ran over to the door. “Can’t you hear them?” she hissed. “They’re come back home!”

Tony pushed her out of the bedroom and snatched up his boxers before he followed her back into her room. “They can’t be home, Emma. Your kitchen door is locked and the keys are still inside.”

“I know what I heard. Look, just get into my bed, baby.” She kissed him softly. Don’t you think you’re getting out of it that easily. I’ll just go say hello and make us a drink. I won’t be long. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe in here. They know better than to come in here.”

Tony nodded. “Emma? How do you feel?”

She shrugged, “I’ve got a banging headache and I’m more nervous then I should be. I’m putting that down to having you in my room.”

He waited until she left the bedroom before sitting on the edge of the bed. That sensation of uneasiness had sneaked back into his system. It remained him of a gnawing mild toothache or an itch that just couldn’t reach. It was driving him batshit. The need to service this girl had started to leave him as well. For the first time in years, Tony wanted to fall back into his old routine again.

“Come on, you sappy old bastard,” he muttered. “Get a fucking grip on yourself.” Tony wondered over to the bedroom door and silently opened it, trying to hear any sound coming from downstairs. Just like last time, Tony heard nothing.

He frowned and almost called out Emma’s name. He shook his head, blaming his lack of judgment on this stupid sensation, this nervousness was even worse than when his father had caught young Tony from stealing a tenner from his mother’s purse.

Tony leaned over the banister, catching sight of shadows moving from the kitchen into the living room, it bothered him greatly that he heard no noises. Where were the pleasant conversations? Her mum had a right gob on her, that woman didn’t know the meaning of shut the fuck up. Come to think of it, Emma promised him a cup of tea as well. Tony heard no evidence of cup clanking, nor had he heard the girl putting the kettle on.

This was just not right. He wasn’t about to dismiss this as another scaredy cat feeling, not this fucking time. He watched those shadows for another moment, becoming more and more convinced that none of them belonged to Emma’s mum and dad.

“Fuck this,” he muttered. Tony ran along the hallway and raced down the stairs, keeping his eyes fixed on that living room door. Nothing moved as he charged down the stairs. He looked into the living room and saw nobody.

“What the fuck?”

He went through the kitchen door, expecting to find Emma in there and again, the room was devoid of life, he shuddered as he turned and saw that the keys were still in the door. “Emma!” he shouted. “Where are you?”

Tony growled, this had to be some stupid teenage game, had the bitch set him up here? Had she secretly invited a few of her mates around when he’d left her bedroom? “Emma, I’m not fucking messing about here.”

He placed his hand against the kettle, not surprised to find it still cold. He felt his fury return, this would not end well. Tony didn’t like people fucking with him. “I’ll give you one last chance, Emma. I’m a reasonable bloke, if you come out from wherever the fuck you’re hiding and say sorry, we’ll forget this little prank even happened.”

The cupboard door by his leg moved, he jumped back before crouching down. He watched it open a little more. “Just what the hell are you playing at?” he shouted. “This is what kids do.” He grabbed the handle and pulled the door wider, crying out as Emma’s still body fell out and landed on his chest. Tony shrieked in terror when he saw that both her legs were missing.

“I had no choice,” growled a voice behind him.

Tony pushed the body off him, he jumped up and ran over to the counter top. Tony pulled a knife out of the block and spun around, swinging the blade in a low arc. He found himself alone again; he gazed at his blood stained top before reluctantly following the blood trails until he found the girl’s mutilated body. “Come out, you evil fucking cunt!” he roared. “I’m going to pull your legs off.” Tony ran into the hallway and dived into the living room, looking for any place where this murderer could be hiding. The only area where he could be was behind the sofa. Tony picked up a large porcelain vase and threw it, watching the ornament fly through the air before dropping behind the sofa.

He heard it crash into the carpet. Tony saw movement, he raised the knife up, ran towards the figure and slammed the blade down, grinning with satisfaction as he drove the knife deep into their leg. Tony triumph was short lived as he felt two pairs of hands grip his clothes and drag his struggling body back into the kitchen. The fury dissolved when he saw three naked middle-aged women sat around Emma’s body. They fought amongst each other like starving jackals fighting over a kill. Tony watched one of them duck under a thrown punch then use the curved scimitar like talons on her left hand to rip through Emma’s soft stomach. The growling woman then pulled out some of the dead girl’s soft organs and raced across the kitchen leaving the remaining women to tear into the gaping wound.

Tony felt a hand grab his hair, the sight of those things eating Emma disappeared and his world exploded with intense white light as somebody slammed the back of his head into cold tiles.

“Do I have your attention now, Tony?” asked a deep voice behind him.

He groaned, trying to focus on the blurred pink oval shape over his head. “I’m going to fucking destroy you.” He growled.

The blurred shape found focus, Tony found himself gazing in revulsion at the distorted face of a teenage youth. The shiny skin fought to keep the meat below from bursting through. He saw a dozen repaired rips, under the chin, below the eyes and across the cheeks. The crude stitching moved and undid as this abomination smiled down at Tony. “You really do have plenty of spirit inside your large frame. I cry at the thought of all that anger just wasting away. It should be put to a more profitable use. Just not by you, my excitable little goat.”

Tony flinched when this thing brushed the back of his hand along the man’s cheek. He glared at some young girl, pinning his left arm to the tiles. Oh hell, he knew her. This was Mrs Waterman’s kid. She used to teach Samuel, maths and history. What the hell had happened to her, god, he couldn’t even lift his arm. “Get off me, right now, kid.” Judging from the noise coming out of the thing’s throat, it was either choking or thought this was the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

“Yes, I have made the right choice with you.” The thing leaned even closer. “Three of my flock are consuming your mate and yet, I’ve yet to witness a single shed tear.”

“I’ll mourn for the poor girl once you and the rest of you fucking maniacs are dead.” He roared and tried once more to get them off his body.

“What do you want from me?”

“Mr Lane, I am a little insulted that you do not know. You should feel blessed. I need a new body and I have chosen yours.”

Tony then howled in terror as the creature slowly opened its mouth. He looked at all those uneven, jagged teeth, filling its ever-expanding mouth and felt his bowels let go. The creature sighed, lowered his head and fastened its teeth over the man’s face, muffling his shrieking.

Chapter Seventeen

Dan winced at the sound his mum’s body made as she tripped and fell against the bare floorboards. His dad rushed over and picked her off the floor. He brushed the dirt off her knees and sat her down next to Alison.

He hurried over to the open window and closed it, after checking to make sure there was nobody about. They hadn’t been followed, at least, Dan didn’t think anyone had seen the four of them escape from the house. He looked over at his mum and dad, watching them huddle. They would be still hiding from the others and stumbling through the darkened back streets of Colbeck, on the two-mile journey to the church hall if it hadn’t been for his parents.

His parents knew more short cuts and hidden footpaths then both Alison and Dan put together. It took a panicked dash through the village, avoiding their pissed off neighbours to realise that these two middle-age people had not always lived in his fucking kitchen.

“Mum, are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s only my ego that’s bruised. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Dan looked around the old storeroom; it hadn’t changed in all those years. He looked over at Colin, “Good choice, we ought to be safe, at least until we figure out what to do next.”

He and Colin had once broken in here back when they were still in secondary School. His mate had somehow persuaded him that the single upper floor window in the church hall was where they stored all the chocolate bars. Colin had overheard this from his father so it must be true. After almost breaking their necks, ripping up and cutting open their arms on the barbed wire, the boys had found the room not much different from how it looked now. Apart from a battered table pushed up against the wall beside where Colin sat and a bow full of dusty bibles, the room was empty.

“Wait, that’s different,” he said, walking over to the blue panelled door. The door was locked, on their last visit. He crouched and ran his finger along the door’s edge, where the lock mechanism should have been.

“It looks like somebody really wanted to get in this room,” said Colin. “I reckon somebody had the same idea as us and didn’t have a key.”

Dan nodded and pulled the door open a little wider.

“Son, do you think that’s a wise idea?” said his dad. “Remember, we came here because it was somewhere secure, a room where we could at least be safe.”

“I know that but it’s obvious that somebody recently has been in here. Look, there’s still a few bits of broken wood on the floor. I think we should at least go have a look.”

He didn’t bother to wait for the reply. Dan knew that he was right on this one. He quietly padded out into the corridor, thankful that there was a single low wattage lightbulb hung from the ceiling. It didn’t give off much light but it was enough to see where he was going. There were more boxes in the corridor than in that room. He brushed past pile of old banana boxes stacked with tatty paperbacks, plastic toys and ornaments.

He guessed that half of the villager’s unwanted bits of crap were in these boxes, all ready to be dragged out at the merest whiff of a jumble sale or gala. Dan reached the end door and turned around to see the others were following him. He glanced at the boxes and guessed that after tonight, all this stuff would probably end up on a landfill site after the authorities had finished tearing their village to pieces, looking for clues as to what happened.

His dad nodded and Dan grabbed the door handle and slowly turned it. He heard the sudden distant shouting before he had chance to open the door. For that moment, Dan contemplated just turning around and rushing back to that storeroom. In the end, the desire for information kept him from running.

The door led out onto the balcony, above the main hall. He opened the door just wide enough so he could crawl out. Dan made his way over to the edge and peered through two of the green painted wooden slats. There must have been nearly everyone in the village all crowded together on the village hall’s assembly room. What the fuck were they up to? He then noticed where the shouting was coming from. On the sage, at the back of the room, he saw Samuel and some old lady having a bit of a tiff.

“That’s Mrs Dando,” whispered his dad. “She’s the one who organises the church hall’s engagements. I guess she must be a bit pissed that the kid is muscling in on her patch.”

The old woman’s verbal protests increased when two of Samuel’s associates jumped onto the stage and dragged her backstage. What surprised Dan were the apathetic reactions from the other villagers. Only yesterday, an event like that would have kept the gossipers busy for weeks.

“Dan, we can’t stay here.”

He silently agreed with his father, staying in this building was just asking for trouble, they all wouldn’t stay down there. Now that the woman was gone, Samuel had walked to the front of the stage. Dan hoped that woman was okay. He turned away and shuffled back, desperately trying to think of another place where they could lay low.

His dad’s arm whipped out and grabbed Dan’s shirt. “Shit!” he hissed. “What is she doing down there?”

Dan turned back and saw that Samuel had climbed down to embrace a girl.

“We can’t leave now.” said his dad, getting onto his knees.

“Don’t be stupid, dad.” Dan pulled the man back down. “In case you haven’t noticed, Chelsea isn’t alone.” Of all the lads to choose, why the fuck did she have to go for him? He clenched his hand, feeling the urge to go down there and punch that bastard. She was a pain in the arse most of the time but she was still his sister. He saw the hurt spread across is dad’s face. He didn’t want to think what he must be going through. “Come on, dad, we need to find somewhere else to hide.”

“I can’t leave her down there.”

Dan watched the man give his sister a soft kiss before he climbed back onto the stage. “Yes we can. Look, Samuel is a complete dickhead but he seems besotted with her. You know he won’t let anything happen to the girl.” Dan’s placating words made him feel like something he’d just stood on. What other choice did he have?

His father closed his eyes. “If anything does happen to Chelsea,” he said, growling. “I’ll kill that boy.” He held his son’s gaze. “Not a word to your mother, okay?”

Dan nodded, he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

“Look at that,” said his dad pointing over at the double doors at the back of the room. “It looks like we have late arrivals.”

Two young men looked over at Samuel who nodded back. They picked up their shotguns and slowly walked towards the doors. Dan’s stomach knotted, they obviously weren’t expecting anyone. He nudged his dad. “We should get back to the others. It’s time for us to go.” The two men stopped a few feet from the doors, pointing their guns in front of them. All eyes were fixed on those doors.

Dan shuffled back and rolled over. His heart almost stopped when he saw a dozen human shaped figures crawling along the ceiling. He tugged on his dad’s shirt. The figures all stopped moving. He heard the unmistakable sound of somebody snapping back a shotgun’s barrel, and then the figures all dropped.

The assembly room erupted into a cyclone of shrieking, blood curdling screams and panicked shouts. Dan rolled back and watched the things jump from villager to villager, biting and scratching. One of the men holding a shotgun staggered back when one of them ran towards him. The man shouted out a few intelligible words before discharging his weapon. At close quarters, the shot literally disintegrated the creature’s torso, spraying liquid red gore across the room.

Dan moaned when he saw three blood drenched villagers collapse. Like the ones already bitten, they writhed and jerked, weeping and crying out. Two of the creatures looked up; they saw the remains of their companion and ran towards the man, fumbling two more cartridges into the weapon. He didn’t even get chance to snap the gun shut before they both fell on the shrieking man. Dan looked away, feeling sick. Thankfully, his screams didn’t last too long.

He watched in amazement as Samuel dragged his sister into the back. Two other villagers saw the pair escape and tried to follow them. The two remaining creatures scrambled up onto the stage and pulled the two villagers back.

Dan counted twelve people still standing up. He didn’t recognise any of them. He were all huddled together in the middle of the room, all quietly moaning and crying as the turned villagers now began to pick themselves off the floor. They formed a circle around the survivors and then all glanced over at the main doors.

A collective soft groan erupted from their mouths. Dan almost moaned himself when he saw a huge man dressed in black push through the double doors. The man looked around the room; he laughed and walked over to the two blood-soaked creatures still mauling the man who had shot their companion. He kicked them away, pushed his hand into the hole in his stomach and pulled out a lump of offal.

He dare not move. Dan knew that if he shifted just one inch, that bastard thing down there would know and they’d end up like the rest of the villagers. It had now found a larger body. He didn’t want to think what had happened to his friend, he only hoped that Terrence had now found peace. Some racial memory told him that his friend had been fully conscious while that monster used and abused his body.

Dan couldn’t stand Samuel Lane and the thought of his dirty paws on his sister made him sick. Even so, he was so glad he had managed to get away before he’d seen what that fucker had done to the man’s dad.

The monster snapped his fingers and two turned villagers ran over to him. They fell to the floor and started to paw at his feet. He bent down and wiped his bloodstained hands in their hair. “There are so many of you, this time,” he said. “The world has changed too much, I find it,” he paused. “I find it, uncomfortable.”

He looked over at the survivors and walked towards them. The villagers parted, as he neared.

A young man at the front, dressed in hiking gear raised his fists. “You have one minute to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

The monster grabbed the man, pulled him away from the others and forced him to his knees. His mouth opened wide, the jaw unhinged like a grotesque snake, his victim’s brusque attitude just melted away, he now begged and pleaded for the monster to spare his life. His voice stopped when the thing fastened his jaws over the top of the man’s head then snapped his mouth shut. When the man fell forward, the contents from his open skull spilled across the floor. Dan watched three of the turned villagers fall on the hands and knees then lap up the mess.

The monster smiled, “Okay, my flock, I’ve kept you waiting long enough.” He swept his hand around. “Enjoy my gifts to you.”

Every creature dived on the screaming people. Dan choked back a sob and followed his dad back towards the door. They raced along the corridor, stumbling over the discarded books and toys. Dan looked up when he saw Alison and Colin run out of the room.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Dan,” sobbed Alison. You need to turn around, both of you. We have to get out of here!”

His dad pushed past both of them and disappeared into the room. He heard his dad cry out before something heavy crashed into the other side of the wall. Alison grabbed Dan’s arm as he rushed passed.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It just took us by surprise.”

Dan snatched his arm away and followed his dad into the room. He saw him stood in front of his mother, who was slumped against the wall. He then saw the crumpled shape of another person on the over side of the room. He then saw the jagged teeth.  “Oh god,” he moaned. “Oh please, not my mum!” His dad pushed him back when Dan tried to get to her.

“No,” he threw Dan over to the window. “Get out of here,” he growled. His dad looked at the other two framed against the open door. “Both of you as well. Follow Dan out of the window.”

Dan opened the window, tying to hold back the tears when he saw the broken chair leg held in his dad’s hands.

Chapter Eighteen

He snatched the shotgun out of the trembling hands of the old farmer and swung the gun around. Before he could smash the stock into the stupid bastard’s face, Samuel felt a pair of arms wrap around his body, pinning his arms to his chest. “Get the fuck off me, or I swear to god, you’ll be the next one that I fuck up.”

“Oh god, Sami, leave him be!” Chelsea ran between them and put her hands on either side of his face. “Please, Sami, it wasn’t his fault.”

“Wasn’t his fault?” he growled, shrugging off the other man’s arms. “Because of that docile turd, we’re down to just four of us.”

He watched in disgust as his girlfriend picked the daft old bastard off the floor. He must be mellowing out in his old age to allow some bird tell him what to do. The woman and the infected fucker lay side by side, on the other side of the road. It well fucked him off that he couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. Samuel knew that she used to work in the library during the week but that’s about as far as he knew about her.

As for the infected fucker that took a bite out of the library girl, he knew the name of that cunt alright. Samuel looked down at it’s now dead face still contorted in rage. Samuel glared at the farmer. You see? Quick reaction for me took him out.” It had surprised him how easy it had been to kill the thing, it looks like the years of target practise had paid off.

“Bring that bastard over here,” he said. He watched his girlfriend and Alex drag the struggling man over the road. If he could get Alex away from Chelsea, he’d thank the guy in person from saving their lives. There was no fucking way, he’d do that in front of his woman, Alex would probably think he was trying to fucking queer him up. Samuel looked back towards the road where they’d just ran from. Still trying to wrap his head at how everything had gone to dogshit so fucking quickly.

He was so pissed. Samuel glared down at this cowardly bag of shit, shaking by his feet, he knew that if he didn’t do something about the fury, he’d end up doing something really stupid.

“You got this woman killed cos you dropped your fucking gun. Our Chelsea says that I’m not allowed to personally fuck you up.” He shrugged. “I ain’t gonna argue with her.” Samuel looked at the woman sprawled on the floor; he could see her eyelids flickering. He dropped to his knees, took off the old man’s boots and whipped out the laces.

“Oh please, no, don’t do this,” pleaded the man as Samuel wrapped the laces around the old man’s wrist.

Samuel tied the old man to the woman then stood up. “I think you have about a minute at the best, you fucker, before she comes around. I wish you lots of luck with those knots.” He picked up the shotgun and raced down the empty street, eager to get away from the pair of them.

“Why the fuck did you have to go and do that?” cried Chelsea when he ran behind a wheelie bin and stopped to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the cold metal and grinned when the sound of the old man’s dying scream reached his ears. “This is survival of the fittest, babes. The old bastard had already fucked up once. His yellow act killed that woman. He did it once, he would have done it again. Samuel opened his eyes and grabbed Chelsea’s shoulders. “You were both together, baby. It was just fate that kept you away from that thing’s teeth.”

“Samuel, What do we do now?”

He opened his eyes and looked at Alex. He had yet to ponder over their immediate future. Samuel’s blazing thought hadn’t allowed his mind to think past getting away from the church hall and then to dealing with the farmer. He looked down at his shotgun and tried to remember how many shells he had left. Alex had only fired off one shot he should still have his share stuffed in those deep pockets of his.

He peered around the bin and watched the turned farmer sit up. The creature then jumped to his feet, he howled before running back towards the church hall. Samuel knew for a fact that they sure as shit didn’t have enough firepower to take on the whole fucking village.

“Do you think we’re the only ones left?” asked Chelsea.

That question stuck fast in Samuel’s brain. He’d been pretty successful in getting most of the villagers together but he hadn’t got them all. Samuel pushed away the worrying thought that if he hadn’t bothered, then most of them would probably still be alive.

“No, we can’t be the last men standing. Our path is pretty fucking clear. We get more armed folk to join our cause. If those fucks think they can take down me, they’re in for a fucking shock,” he growled. “Samuel stroked the side of Chelsea’s face. “Don’t you worry, babes, we’ll make it through to dawn, you mark my words.”

Alex snapped open his shotgun and inserted two cartridges. The youth snapped it shut and looked back towards the creature that he’d taken down before he looked back at Samuel, “don’t you think we should try and find Karl?”

Samuel took one deep shuddering breath in order to calm down. He was surprised that it had taken this long to mention that traitorous fucker’s name. “No, I don’t think we should find him. If you know what’s best for you, Alex, never mention his name ever again. That cunt ran out on us, everything went to dogshit after he had fucked us over.”

He turned away from the them and marched away, knowing full well that the pair would follow him like a pair of fucking lost puppies. Samuel saw some movement in a shop window. He stopped and squinted, it the dim glow of the streetlight directly above the window, it looked a bit like a face. From across the street, it was pretty difficult to tell.

“Did you see that?” he asked.

Chelsea shook her head. “All I saw was you storming away in a sulk.”

Samuel refused to rise to that. He’d deal with her later. Right now, he had to keep his mood on a level, there was too much at stake to start going off on another rant. He turned back towards the shop, annoyed to see that the face was no longer there. “Come on,” he said, running across the street. Thinking about it, if that face had fucked off, it must mean that whoever was in there was hiding. If it had been a change villager, it would have smashed through that window to reach them.

He stopped by the door. “Chelsea,” he whispered. “I need you to open the door for me.” Samuel lifted his shotgun and watched Chelsea slowly turn the handle. She pushed the door open and stepped back. He nodded in relief, thankfully that she hadn’t decided to go in there first. He stepped over the threshold, and waited for his eyes to get used to the shadowy passageway before he quietly walked along the passageway, keeping his ears open for any unusual sound. All he could hear were Alex’s huge feet scraping across the lino.

Samuel winced every time Alex moved. The fat cunt sounded like a dancing elephant in a fucking window factory. If there was anyone in here, they were bound to have him them now. Samuel resisted the urge to slap Alex and hurried up to the end door. He pushed open the door and walked through, looking for any sign of his mysterious face. He was now in the front of the shop, behind the counter. There was nobody here. “Is anyone about?” he shouted. “Come on, don’t fuck about. I know you’re here, look we’re all in the same fucking boat here.”

He spied movement at the back of the shop and watched a kid of about fourteen raise his head up from behind a stack of newspapers. Samuel was impressed at the lad’s hiding ability, he wouldn’t have known someone was hiding in here if he hadn’t spotted the face in the window.

“Fuck me, Jacob, is that really you?”

The lad pushed his shoulder length brown hair out of his face and gazed fearfully at them, Samuel watched the boy’s eye dart towards the shotgun and lowered it.

“We ain’t going to hurt you, kid, honest.”

“How do I know that?” he muttered.

“Look, for fuck’s sake, don’t give me that bollocks, you know who I am, it’s your Karl’s mate.”

Chelsea pushed past him. “You really do have a gift for words, Sami.”

She smiled at the boy. “Hey there, Karl, don’t look so shocked. My mate’s younger sister showed me a pic of you on Facebook. She thinks you’re really cute.”

Samuel watched in amazement as the kid’s features softened and that distrust just melted away. Chelsea ducked under the counter and slowly walked over to the kid.

“Karl, would you like to come with us? Don’t worry, we can protect you from harm.”

He shook his head. “No, I ain’t leaving here. Besides, I can’t leave my friends and I don’t think they’d want to leave here either.”

Samuel ducked under the counter, he smiled, knowing that he must have hit gold. He looked around the village grocery shop and wanted to kick himself. This must be where the rest of the villagers were hiding. That made so much sense. He couldn’t think of a better place to hide. “Can you take me to them, Karl?”

The boy slowly nodded. “I can, but you’ll have to leave those on the counter.”

“No fucking way,” said Samuel, I ain’t letting go of this baby, no matter what.”

“Yes you are,” said Chelsea. “The isn’t a western.” She looked over at the boy. “Karl’s okay and he hasn’t a gun.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered the boy. “I meant no insult. It’s just that the others are terrified and if they see those shotguns, they’d all panic.” He leaned forward, “Most of the village kids are down there. We’re trying to keep them quiet.”

Samuel sighed and carefully placed the shotgun on the counter, then motioned Alex to do the same. “You’d better take me to them, kid.”

Karl nodded and hurried over to a door on the other side of the room. “Okay, Follow me.”

He led them into another room. The boy, smiled at them before turning on the light and shutting the door. “He’s going to be so pleased.”

He saw Chelsea’s eyes dart towards the ceiling. She screamed. He looked up and saw over a dozen of the creatures smiling down at him. He grabbed her hand then ran towards the door.

“No, Samuel, I think not.”

He skidded to a stop and looked into the face of his own father framed in the doorway. “Dad?” He stepped back as the man walked into the room.

“You have done an excellent job, Karl. You may go.”

The boy ran past them all, giggling.

“You’re not…”

The man smiled, “No, I’m not your father, Samuel, although some part of him does exist it me.”

He grabbed Chelsea and tried to push past the thing that had taken over his dad. Why the fuck did he leave his gun out there? He cried out as the all the creatures about him dropped down.

“You can have the other one.”

Alex shrieked as they all dived on the man.

“I don’t need him.” He gripped their necks and brought them up to his face. I’ll be taking my flock back in a few hours but I need my field full of livestock for when I return,” he said, grinning. You two are very impressive. Be appreciative, You’re going to be spared.”

Samuel saw those terrible teeth coming towards him. He tightened his grip on Chelsea’s hand then closed his eyes.

Chapter Nineteen

He ran his thumb along the sole of his boot, shuddering when he felt the huge craters that those things had bitten out of the rubber. Ethan wanted to cry, just thinking about how close that little brown terrier had come to changing him into a monster brought the tears flooding back.

“How are you doing, Ethan,” asked Georgina. She laid her arms on his shoulders. “We’re okay for the moment, I think.”

“No nodded, wiping his face. Ethan continued to watch the empty street, not wanting to turn around. If he saw her lovely face creased up in anxious concern, he just knew he’d wouldn’t be able to stop weeping. “The DIY store is on the end of this road. I’m sure they’ll have some powerful lights.”

They had done so well in avoiding the creature’s hunting for any remaining villagers. Only once had those things caught sight of them. Georgina had been trying to restart their knackered car when Ethan spun around and saw one of them scuttling over a roof. It had seen him and leaped from the roof onto the floor just a few feet from their car. Without pausing to warn the woman, he took the lamp out and shone the light straight in it’s face, grinning as it’s flesh boiled away.

It seemed ironic that the local wildlife almost killed them. Georgina hadn’t been able to restart the car but it didn’t matter, the caverns were only a short distance away. They encountered no more of the things as they ran towards the carpark. They only slowed down and finally stopped at the sight of the thousands of small animals packed into the carpark, it was like a moving carpet of dark fur.

Dozens of the animals had broke from the main pack and scurried towards them, they had ran back with Ethan sweeping the beam of light behind him as they raced back into the village.

“They’ll have some batteries at least,” said Ethan. Thanks to those bloody animals, the battery for his light was completely flat. If any of those creatures did spot them, Ethan didn’t know what he’d do.

“Okay, I think we’re safe, Ethan.” She got to her feet and leaned over the low brick wall that bordered the post office and a charity shop. She grabbed his hand and lifted him up. “Come on, Ethan, we need to get in that shop as soon as we can.” Georgina pointed at his lamp. “We’re helpless right now. Are you ready?”

He nodded and followed her across the street, feeling so exposed.

“How far now?” she whispered.

Ethan took her hand, feeling as if it was the right thing to do. “Come on, we’re nearly there.” He pulled the woman around the side of a telephone box and looked across the road, to a row of cottages, he saw no movement, although Ethan did notice somebody had left their patio door open.

“The store is over there,” he whispered. Ethan raced across the road, expecting one of those creatures to jump up from behind a garden wall at any second. He reached the front of the store and stopped dead. “Oh fuck,” he said, looking at the shattered window. “We can’t go in there now, it must be crawling with those things.”

Georgina, shook her head then pushed her head into the shop’s interior. “I can’t see anyone, she whispered, pulling her head back out. “I just think it will have been people like us, hunting for supplies.” She ducked into the shop, keeping hold of his hand then pulled Ethan inside.

He pulled the woman to the side and ducked down behind a freestanding display of emulsion paint. “I can see torch light,” he hissed. Ethan’s heart almost stopped when the woman jumped up.

“Hello?” she shouted, “Is there anyone there?”

“Who’s that?” answered a young man’s voice.

That sounded like Dan Wilson. Fuck, trust that mouthy little shit to survive. He slowly stood up and followed Georgina towards the torch beams, wondering who else was with him.

“Hey there, Ethan,” said Dan, walking towards him. The lad flung his arms around him. “I should have known the bastards wouldn’t have caught you. Heard about you and Samuel, dude.” Dan giggled. “Man, your bollocks must be full of concrete.”

“Either that or you really are fucking mental.”

Ethan turned to see Colin Grave grinning at him.

“It’s good to see you, man,” Colin said. “Hell, we thought that we were the only ones left. It’s good to see the both of you.”

Ethan felt an atmosphere of curiosity as the others gazed at Georgina. He felt her hand instinctively reach for his. Her friendship helped to dispel those awkward feelings when he saw Alison gazing at the pair of them. “Hi Alison,” he said. I’m glad to see that you’re okay.” He wondered if he ought to tell the girl that he took care of her father.

“Guys,” Dan said. Do you two have a plan?”

Ethan shrugged. “Apart from not to get eaten? To be honest, we don’t know what to do, anymore.”

Dan nodded. “Well, you’ve done well on the first bit.”

Ethan jumped back and raised his rifle when he saw a figure running out of the shadows.

“Relax, man. It’s just my dad.”

“We need to move,” hissed the man, grabbing hold of Dan’s shoulders. He quickly nodded at Ethan. “Come on, son, I think the bastards have followed us.”

Ethan heard the sound of something at the back of the shop crashing onto the floor. Georgina grabbed his arm. He turned and saw several figures climbing through the broken front window.

“We’re so fucked!” moaned Colin.

He lifted his rifle and fired into the crowd, grunting with satisfaction as one of the things dropped to the ground. Ethan fired again and cursed when the rifle failed to fire. Two of the things giggled and ran towards Georgina. He jumped forward, spun the rifle and smacked the nearest one in the side of the head.

The remaining one screeched and dived at Georgina. She snatched a screwdriver from the counter beside her and slammed it into the woman’s face. Ethan saw even more of them entering the shop and pulled Georgina away, they raced along the aisles, following the others.

Ethan grabbed Georgina back as one of them dropped down in front of them and landed on Colin’s head. He raised his rifle but Dan had already pulled the thing off his friend. Dan’s father slammed the creature’s head into the corner of the shelf.

“Leave him!” screamed his dad, when Dan ran over to Colin. “He’s one of them now” The man pulled his grabbed his son and threw the lad towards Alison.

Ethan gripped Alison’s hand tight and jumped over Colin’s twitching body, while keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling, just hoping that no more of those things were hiding up there.

Dan frantically looked at his dad. “They’ve covered both exits.”

Ethan pushed Georgina towards the others then threw his gun at Dan. “Keep her safe,” he shouted. “I’ll be just a minute.” He tuned out Georgina’s crying, skirted around Colin’s body and ran back into the shop. Most of the other creatures had already left the shop. He had no idea why, Ethan was just thankful that they had. Two remaining ones snarled at him as he accidentally booted a mop bucket. “Fuck you!” he snarled, picking up the bucket and throwing it in their direction.

He saw what he wanted and leaped over the glass counter. Ethan reached up and snatched a pack of batteries. Fumbling with the plastic cover, he ripped the two batteries out and pushed them into his lamp. They fell onto him before he had time to switch it on.

Ethan saw their jagged teeth reaching for his face, He struggled, trying to kick them off, it was no use, the bastards had him pinned to the floor. The one sitting on his chest giggled.

“Goodbye, you chicken stealing bastard,” snarled Mavis Corvin.

The other one was sitting on his legs, thought this was hilarious. “We’re allowed to eat you,” he said, giggling.”

His laughter abruptly ceased. Mavis snapped her head back. The crushing weight on his legs, vanished. Ethan bucked and wiggled, he couldn’t shift the changed woman off his chest but it did give his fingers enough freedom for him to reach his torch. Ethan turned it on and shone the beam straight into the woman’s face, feeling so gratified as the flesh on the woman’s face just bubbled and dripped onto the floor.

“My mum said your jam tasted like fucking sugary vomit!” He looked up to see Dan pulling a garden fork out of the other one’s head. “Thanks for coming back, buddy.” Ethan helped himself to a couple more packets of batteries and picked up another lamp similar to his own.

“You really are weird kid,” he muttered.

Dan helped him over the counter and they ran through the shop. He saw moving shadows everywhere but none of the creatures dare show their face, they weren’t idiots. Ethan saw the others standing on the first step that led upstairs. He gave the extra lamp and batteries to Dan’s father.

“You took a stupid risk there, son.”

Ethan shrugged. “No I don’t believe that I did, Mr Wilson. We have about five hours of darkness left. At least with the lamps we’ll stand some chance of making it through to see the dawn.”

Georgina pulled him towards him. “Well I think you took a stupid risk,” she sobbed. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

Dan backed into them, “Dad, get that lamps sorted. We’re not safe just yet.”

Ethan gasped as he saw dozens of the things climbing through the shop window, they didn’t move once they entered the shop. Dan’s father shut the battery cover shut and turned on the torch.

“Get up the stairs,” he hissed. If they are all here, we should be able to get out the back. Ethan, they know you have a torch, they won’t go near you, protect the others. I’ll hold them off.”

“No fucking way, dad, I ain’t letting you be the hero.”

“I’m not that daft, son,” he replied. “They won’t come any further into the shop, not with me holding this.”

Ethan saw Dan’s whole demeanour change when another creature climbed into the shop and pushed past the other.

“Oh fucking no, oh please,” moaned Dan. “Not her.”

Ethan stepped back, watching Dan’s older sister slowly approach them, he so felt for the lad and his dad, he didn’t want to think what must be going through there minds right now.”

“Stay where you are, Chelsea!” shouted her dad. “I’m not kidding about, I really will burn you.”

The girl laughed. “Oh, well fuck me, it’s just like one big family reunion, apart from mummy of course. Good work with that one, dad. I never thought you’d have the guts to murder your own wife.” The woman started to clap. “Now, here’s the deal. The one’s who are local, if you come over here right now, I’ll just give you a little nip and your pain will be all over and done with.”

Dan’s father turned on the lamp. “I think you know my answer.” He stood up. “No more warnings.”

The girl giggled, “Take your best shot,” she said opening out her arms and walking towards him.

The man sobbed and shone the beam of light straight into her face. Chelsea just laughed before racing over to him.

“I’m one of the chosen,” she said, knocking the lamp out of his arms. “She pulled his face close to her, opened her mouth and bit into his cheeks, ripping off of chunk of flesh. Chelsea dragged the shrieking man towards the others.

Dan ran forward, he snatched up the lamp and ran over to the howling creatures. He swung the light across their bodies, howling in grief while the smoking creatures tried to escape through the window. Dan picked up a metal broom handle and ran at Chelsea. She snarled at her brother ripped the handle out of his hands before following the others out of the window.

Ethan and the others hurried over to the sobbing boy.

Alison dropped to her knees and wrapped her hands around his waist. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Dan looked at them. “I know how to stop this.”

Chapter Twenty

Nearly everyone he had ever known was down there, with the exception of his parents. Dan forced the tears back, he couldn’t allow the grief to smother him. He needed to keep his wits sharp, before he lost them forever.

They shuffled in single file, along the middle of the road, towards the direction of the caverns. Their wretched expressions filled his heart with despair. These poor creatures all knew what was to become of them, they truly were damned.

Eight other villagers flanked the long line, only arrogance and hate filled their expressions. Like guards escorting prisoners, they ensured that the line kept its shape and weren’t slow at dispensing punishment to anyone who slowed down. Dan ducked as Samuel passed their hiding place; his spotted his sister directly opposite the big man on the other side of the line. Dan had noticed that they both carried matching cricket bats, that was so sweet.

Dan wanted to throw up. They had a good reason to be smug, these bastards were the chosen breeding pairs.

“I can take Samuel out,” said Ethan. “It’s an easy shot and can guarantee that the bastard wouldn’t get up this time.”

Dan pushed the barrel to the side. “Use your head man. What would be the point of that? They’d all run over here and fucking eat us.”

The front of the line disappeared into the cavern’s carpark. Dan heard the sound of a single loud sob. Icy fingers caressed his spine when that pitiful moan abruptly stopped. He knew that voice it belonged to Steven Corvin. Like Dan, that man had lost his family too. The memory of that turned boy from a millennia ago slipped to the front of Dan’s mind. He wondered if Steven’s sudden cry had just pushed him to the front of that monster’s menu.

“That’s it then,” whispered the archaeologist. “They’ll all disappear into the caverns and that’ll be it, we’ll never hear from them again.”

He attempted to shake off the paralysing dread, smothering his bones, and pushed away all the mental excuses for not following this through. Dan picked up his dad’s lamp and crouched in front of Alison.

“Please, Dan,” she moaned. “Don’t do this, there must be another way I don’t want to lose you.”

“There is no other way, sweetheart,” he replied. “We all know that.” Dan brushed his lips against hers. “I so love you, baby.”

Dan stood up. “Guys, no matter what happens to me, come daybreak, this will all be over. At least you’ll be safe.” He turned around and raced towards the Dog and Duck, this time he did allow the tears to flow.

He ran past the village pub and stopped, glancing behind him, making sure that none of the others had been stupid enough to follow him. After wiping his face, he sat on a low brick wall and opened Ethan’s rucksack. Dan took out the knife and the spare lamp then tucked the bag behind the wall.

From his vantage point, Dan could see the last of the villagers entering the carpark. He stood up, took a deep breath and ran after them. None of the fucked up animals that Ethan warned him about were visible, he shivered at the thought of a pack of changed tabby cats dropping out of the trees and ripping him to small pieces. He stopped at the main entrance, even from here, Dan could hear them moaning and crying in the chamber.

He saw no sign of his sister or the other ones that the monster had spared. That worried him a little, would they be guarding the chamber? Dad gripped the handle of his knife, that made no sense, guarding them from what, him and his fucking vegetable peeler?

Dan quietly entered the building, sure, that the chosen ones wouldn’t have followed the turned villagers. It still worried him that he hadn’t seen any of them leave. He ran over to a vending machine in the corner and peered around the side, looking into the gift shop. It seemed like years since he last sat on that stool behind the till, bored out of his mind.

He saw nobody else in the foyer. Dan turned on the lamp and hurried over to the gate, wondering if he had the guts to kill his own sister, if the girl was still here. He stopped outside the chamber, listening to them all quietly weeping. Dan closed his eye for just a moment, knowing that there was still time to leave. He knew the light had no effect on the chosen ones, there was a good chance that it might not fuck up the main monster either.

“Fuck it,” he muttered. Dan opened his eyes and ran into the chamber, the turned screeched in agony as the white light scorched them as he played the beam along the floor. He didn’t want to kill any more of them but he had no other choice when three turned villagers, standing by the hidden entrance leapt for Dan. He lifted the lamp and swept the light across their heads. As the bubbling headless bodies dropped to the floor, Dan spun around and found that all of the others had pressed their bodies up against the wall at the back of the chamber. He heard the occasional snarl but most of them just glared at him while sobbing.

“I don’t want to kill anymore of you, he said. “But, I swear to god, if any of you fuckers do move from that wall, I’ll melt every single one of you bastards.” Dan raced over to the hidden chamber and pressed his hands against the stone, feeling the disguised door shift. His heartbeat accelerated when Dan saw the table in the middle of the room, covered in a clean white sheet. He set the beam to high intensity and slowly walked up to the table. He gritted his teeth, grabbed the corner of the sheet and whipped it off, shining the light down.

The grinning face of Samuel Lane stared back at him. The man abruptly sat up and knocked the lamp out of Dan’s trembling hand.

“Oh man! I so wish you could see the look on your face!” he said, laughing. “You see, we just knew you’d pull a stunt like this, now my dad wanted to take you out as soon as you entered the cavern.” He jumped off the slab, picked up the lamp and smashed it against the wall.

Dan held the knife out in front of him and back away.

“Oh yeah, cos that’s got me all fucking scared, you daft little turd.”

“Where is he?” screamed Dan. Oh, fuck, he couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. He knew where the monster was right now, that bastard would be back in the middle of Colbeck, hunting down his friends.

“Thing is, Dan, I don’t think our master is too keen on going back to sleep, not yet anyway. I told him lots of things about what’s happened since he last slept. Proper upset him, it did.” Samuel reached behind him and pulled out a short thick blades sword. “This, you fuckhead, is a proper blade. Anyway, he’s fucked off and as soon as I’ve fucked you up, I’m gonna join him.” Samuel roared and charged Dan.

He dropped to the floor and rolled to the side when Samuel smashed his sword down. the blade missed Dan’s head by inches. He leapt back and threw his knife at the laughing man. It spun harmlessly passed Samuel’s ear.

“Oh, now you’re fucked,” cried Samuel, running at him.

Dan snatched up a fist-sized rock, he jumped out of Samuel’s way and slammed the rock into the side of his head. The man dropped to the floor, not moving. Dan kicked the sword out of Samuel’s hand.

“No fucking way,” he gasped, “It can’t be that easy.” The man had not moved. He ran over to the other side of the cavern and picked up his own knife. Dan mourned for the loss of his lamp. “How the fuck am I going to get out of here now?”

He picked up the lamps main body, and headed for the door, maybe they wouldn’t notice it was broken. Fuck, what other choice did he have? Dan had to get out of here. He pushed the door open and fell back in terror as the turned villagers pushed their way inside. None of them touched him, they all headed straight for Samuel’s stirring frame. Dan watched them, fascinated as they took a single bite each from the screaming man before falling onto the cavern floor. Before his eyes, the villagers lost their crimson eyes and their teeth returned to normal.

Dan jumped out into the outer chamber and raced through the building. As he reached the main door, he stopped dead, crying out in relief as dawn’s fingers lit up the roofs of Colbeck. Dan saw his friends stood at the edge of the carpark and ran towards them, flying into Alison’s open arms.”

“Is that it?” asked Ethan. “Are we safe now?”

Dan gazed at each of them in turn and shook his head. “No, the bastard wasn’t in there. I don’t know where he is.”

The archaeologist spun around and pointed at a blue range rover speeding through the village. “What do we do now?”

The End

Table of Contents

- Copyright
- Shades of Green
- Third Sight
- Duplicity
- Spores
- Rags and Bones
- Parasite