by Helen Harper
In case I’d imagined the entire thing, I inched back to the door and opened it so it was an inch ajar. Furious black eyes fringed with golden fur glared back at me. I raised one hand and matched her, glower for glower. ‘Change,’ I commanded. ‘Change back to Lizzy.’
She opened her jaws again and snapped at me before whirling round to slam her body against the nearest wall for no other reason than it appeared to be there. It was better than attacking me, I supposed. Slightly dazed, she shook herself and glanced at me then charged the wall once more, head-butting it so hard that fissures appeared in the plaster.
I drew myself up. ‘Stop that!’
Lizzy flicked her baleful, soulless gaze back on me but at least she stopped trying to knock herself unconscious.
‘Transform back!’
She snarled with a bellowing fury that was directed entirely at me. Okay. I wasn’t some all-powerful being after all. I nodded at her and closed the door and pressed myself up against it. My heart was thumping and I could feel myself shaking all over. I swallowed and continued to listen. I could still hear Lizzy huffing and puffing but her bout of self-destruction appeared to have stopped – for now.
I calculated the odds that Lizzy’s desperate predicament would get worse rather than better. It wasn’t looking good. She might be quiet at the moment, but I suspected this was only a temporary respite. I could flap and panic about what on earth had happened to her, not to mention why, or I could act.
There was no choice really. I simply had to find a way to save her – and fast.
Chapter Five
I drummed my fingers against the worktop. It had been hours, more than hours. Night had turned back into day again and, while no more crazy shit was happening outside, beyond the constant buzz of helicopters in the air and hastily departing vehicles in the streets, there was still plenty going on inside.
Even with both the kitchen and the living room doors firmly closed, I could hear the creature that was probably Lizzy grunting to herself. And Lizzy was the woman who’d made a snarky comment about my snoring. Honestly, I had nothing on her.
‘It’s serious, though,’ I said into the phone. It had taken an age to get through to someone so the last thing I wanted was to let them fob me off. The phones were still working but I’d not had internet access since before the fire rain incident. I couldn’t count on my landline working forever.
A few army vehicles had trundled down the street around midday. I’d almost flagged one down until I remembered that soldiers tend to have guns and their first impulse would surely be to shoot Lizzy in the head.
‘I don’t know what to do and…’
‘No one does, love. We’ve got calls from all over the city. It’s not the rats. Pet dogs and cats are going crazy. There’s a pink elephant on the loose and goodness knows what else. I’ll add your name to the list but if the animal is contained and safe for the time being it’s not a priority. Most of our officers in the area are unable to venture out. The army has given instructions that no one is to leave their home unless absolutely necessary or unless they’re being evacuated. You should stay put, keep an eye on it and wait for help to reach you in the next week or so.’
‘She’s not an “it” or an animal. I told you, she’s my housemate.’
The RSPCA operator sighed. ‘Your housemate who transformed into a furry cat-wolf-bear thing.’
I knew it sounded crazy but it was still the truth. ‘Yes. You’ve got it exactly.’
‘We’ll be with you when we can.’
‘Today?’ I bit my lip.
‘Unlikely. As I’ve already said.’
I persisted. ‘Tomorrow?’
There was another deep sigh. ‘Maybe by the end of the week. I’m sorry but—’
‘You’ve got calls from all over the city,’ I finished. Curses. It didn’t matter how much I persisted. I wasn’t going to get any help from the RSPCA any faster.
I muttered a vague thanks, because once upon a time I’d been brought up to be polite, and hung up. My biggest concern wasn’t that Lizzy had turned furry, it was that she was likely to do herself some serious damage. Every so often she worked up the energy to throw herself against the walls. I was sure I’d heard glass shattering earlier. Sooner or later her animal brain was going to work out how to get out of the room. If she hurt someone, she would never forgive herself once she turned back into her normal self again. And, of course, she would turn back to the Lizzy I knew; it was impossible to conceive that she wouldn’t.
I thought for while longer. If she could be taken somewhere safe where she’d be less likely to do herself – and others – damage, it would be for the best. Fortunately, I mopped the floors of such a place.
I quickly found the number I needed. Part of me hadn’t expected Anna to answer so, when she picked up on the third ring, I exhaled in sharp relief. Now I was getting somewhere. ‘This is Charley,’ I said perfunctorily. I wasn’t panicking. Not me. Nope. ‘I need some help.’
There was a momentary silence. I could hear shouts in the background and a siren wailing. DC Anna Jones was no doubt far busier than the RSPCA. I had to work quickly.
‘I’m the cleaner,’ I reminded her. ‘With the blue hair. I desperately need someone to come and help me with my housemate. It’s an emergency but I don’t know who else to turn to, and if you don’t help me then all hell will break loose, and it’s quite possible there will be deaths, and working as your cleaner has got to count for something, not to mention that time that you were vomiting all over the Situation Room and—’
‘I know who you are, Charley,’ Anna said drily. ‘After all, we were talking together yesterday. And I would rather not be reminded about the vomit incident, thank you very much. We’re incredibly busy at the moment, as you might imagine.’
‘But…’ I began.
‘But,’ she said, ‘you’re one of ours. Besides, with the army here and the city on lockdown, we’ve got plenty of back-up. We can spare someone to help you out. Text me your address and someone will be there within the hour.’
I swallowed. Praise be. Anna Jones really was one of the good guys. ‘With handcuffs. Please.’
She sniffed as if it were never in doubt. ‘Always.’
There was a dull roar in the background and she clicked off. Despite her brisk manner, she’d been too business-like and was too trustworthy not to keep her promise. I congratulated myself on my solution-focused approach. Apocalypse or not, I wouldn’t give up. Not on anything or anyone, no matter how horrific their halitosis was.
I ran my hand through my hair and opened the kitchen door, tiptoeing out. Using my knuckles, I rapped quietly on the living room door. ‘Lizzy? Someone’s coming to help soon. Everything’s going to be alright.’
I waited for a moment, listening for any kind of response. Apart from the continued snorts and ragged breathing, there was nothing. Perhaps she was finally calming down. That could only be a good thing. ‘Your throat must be red raw after all that shrieking. Would you like a honey lozenge?’ I called. ‘Or a breath mint?’
There was a single thump. I’d take that as a no, then. I was a risk taker at heart but this was unknown territory for me. For everyone. Waiting for the cavalry to arrive was by far the most sensible option.
***
An hour later, even though the Lizzy monster had remained relatively quiet except for the odd crash and short-lived bouts of minor destruction, I was ready to forgo the sensible option. I appreciated that I wasn’t the only person with problems, but I’d been banking on help arriving before now. If I’d had any viable alternatives, I’d have taken them.
I kept reminding myself that it was better to trust knowledge than luck. Unfortunately, my knowledge about what was happening to Lizzy was comparable to that of a slug.
When the doorbell finally rang, echoing tinnily through the large house, I all but sprinted to answer it. I heard a brief howl from Lizzy at the sound but thankfully it was short-lived; the last thing I needed was for
the police to be scared off before they even crossed the threshold.
I flung open the door, a ready smile on my face. It quickly disappeared; this wasn’t the cavalry, it was a lone woman wearing a grubby, over-sized T-shirt and jeans.
‘You’re not the police.’
She met my gaze head on. ‘I’m the Community Liaison Officer responsible for this locality,’ she said. ‘The police, as I’m sure you understand, are rather busy at the moment with the army in town and all the … strange goings-on over the last twenty-four hours. I’m here in their place until they can visit.’
Something about this wasn’t right. Even with my mind preoccupied with Lizzy’s situation, there was something off about it. I frowned at her. ‘Show me your identification.’
Her expression didn’t flicker. ‘I don’t have it on me,’ she told me, holding her palms up to admit the mistake. ‘It was eaten by a pink elephant.’
I blinked. Was that the same one from the television? Or was there a horde of the things rampaging round the streets? ‘You saw a pink elephant?’
‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘It snatched my ID and lanyard with its trunk and ran away.’ She leaned in. ‘I didn’t know elephants could run but that thing moved pretty darned fast.’
I recalled a holiday I’d had to Kenya a few years previously when I’d made a bet with our local guide that a young elephant calf wouldn’t be able to outrun the lioness that was stalking it. I’d lost. See what I mean about knowledge and luck?
The memory relaxed me. ‘They might not look graceful,’ I said, ‘but they can shift when they want to.’
I looked the woman up and down, noting her brilliant green eyes. ‘Hang on. I recognise you from the police station.’ So despite her dodgy tale about ID-munching mammals, she did work with the coppers. I breathed out. This wasn’t some badly timed minion of Max’s out for my blood. ‘I do know you. We met in the toilets.’
The green-eyed woman smiled. ‘Yeah. You told me that weight lifters can lift more in blue-painted gyms.’
I smiled back. ‘I’m full of odd facts like that. It’s amazing what a little knowledge can do when you’re betting.’
‘Betting? You’re a gambler?’
Careful, Charley, I warned myself. It was vital not to give too much away. ‘Only occasionally. And always legally, of course.’
‘Of course.’ The woman licked her lips, displaying a flash of underlying menace that was so brief I wondered if I’d imagined it. It wasn’t that she was directing any antipathy towards me per se, but I had the definite sensation that if I chose to cross her things could go very badly for me indeed.
‘So the reason you called the police…’ she said, almost purring the words in her strange accent.
Lizzy, I told myself. Whoever this woman really was, this was about Lizzy. ‘I’ll show you,’ I told her. ‘She’s this way.’ It would be easier to let her see what the situation was, rather than attempting to explain it.
‘Nice place,’ she said, once she was inside the hallway.
‘I won it,’ I informed her with a shrug as I led the way to the living room. ‘Poker. Although it’s more trouble than it’s worth,’ I lied. I didn’t want to appear too blasé about my house. I knew that my baked beans and instant coffee lifestyle didn’t match the bricks and mortar of my home. ‘I can barely afford the council tax and something is always breaking down. The plumbing is a nightmare.’ I bit my lip. ‘And now there’s this.’ I pushed open the door to reveal what was beyond.
I spotted what I reckoned was the first genuine emotion on the woman’s face. Her mouth dropped open in a mixture of horror, shock and, oddly, guilt.
Lizzy swung her head towards us. I tensed, worried that she was going to stage another attack. This time, though, she looked pathetically sad. Her large paws held an empty plate from one of the many snacks I’d thrown in her direction over the last hours.
‘I called the RSPCA,’ I explained, ‘but they’ve got their hands full. I have a few friends in the police force who said they’d send someone to help.’ Although my attempt at the truth had encouraged nothing more than disbelief on the part of the RSPCA call-centre operator, I felt like I shouldn’t lie. Not about Lizzy. Not when the green-eyed woman might try to kill her.
I drew in a breath. ‘Besides, I don’t think this is an animal. I think it’s my housemate. Unless it’s eaten her. That’s always possible.’
The woman swallowed. ‘Your housemate?’
‘Lizzy. She’s from Brisbane, Australia. She’s been studying in Manchester for a couple of years or so and I let her kip here. I’ve got plenty of room and the rent, when she pays it, is welcome.’ I hesitated. ‘Watch her lips.’
The woman tilted her head and frowned. ‘Uh…’
‘I’m an expert in lip reading,’ I said. ‘It helps with scoping out the lay of the land when I’m preparing for a big bet. I can read trainers’ words from a hundred metres away. I’ve managed to avoid several dodgy gambles as a result.’ I was aware that I was starting to babble but I felt an overwhelming urge to explain myself. ‘There was this one horse that—’
The woman held up her hand. ‘Perhaps another time.’ She pointed at Lizzy. ‘What’s it saying?’
‘She. Not it,’ I snapped. Then I remembered that I didn’t want to piss her off or come across as too crazy and I softened my words. ‘I think,’ I leaned over and whispered in her ear, ‘she’s saying Vegemite. We’ve run out.’
‘What’s Vegemite?’
At the mention of her favourite food, Lizzy’s eyes narrowed to slits. Her jaws opened wide and she began to shriek again. She lunged forward, her head down so that her lethal-looking horns were in prime slashing position.
I didn’t wait; I grabbed the woman and hauled her back, slamming the door shut so there was a barrier between Lizzy and us. ‘Don’t say it aloud in front of her!’ I warned.
‘What? Vegemite?’
Lizzy heard her through the door. She barrelled against her side of it, splintering the wood. I winced. I’d been fortunate that she’d not forced her way through so far but such illusory luck always ran out.
I glared. ‘You’re supposed to be helping.’
‘Sorry,’ the woman muttered. ‘This is my first time with an Australian monster.’
‘Lizzy’s not a monster. She’s just having a bad day.’
Her expression flickered. I watched her for a moment, despairing realisation eventually dawning on me. ‘You’re not with the police,’ I said. ‘I’m usually good at reading people and your air of self-importance suggested you were a copper – but you’re not.’ I sighed. ‘Great. Who are you and what do you want?’
I didn’t have time for any other problems beyond the ones I already had.
‘Okay, Charlotte,’ she agreed after a brief pause. ‘I’m not with the police.’
I grimaced. I should have trusted my initial instincts. I hoped this wasn’t about to turn sour. In a fight, I reckoned she’d take me down before I could so much as raise my fists, but I’d still try my darned best.
Her next words, however, surprised me. ‘But I reckon I can probably help. Or I know someone who can.’
There was an earnestness about her that strangely encouraged trust, not that I had much of a choice at this point. I took a deep breath of air into my lungs. ‘Charley,’ I said.
‘Pardon?’
‘Call me Charley.’ I folded my arms. ‘How long will it take to get hold of this someone?’
She smiled. ‘Give me a minute.’
Chapter Six
When the strange woman said she would only be a minute, she wasn’t kidding. A mere forty seconds later, she strolled back into my house. This time she wasn’t alone. Directly behind her was a tall man with short, dark-red curls framing his face and the sort of swagger that instantly put me in mind of Max. He wasn’t overly large but his presence seemed to fill my hallway.
Considering he must have been loitering outside in order to have arrived so quickly, I was s
uspicious. Despite his light, dancing-blue eyes and good looks – and the sudden, unexpected kick of lust that I immediately quashed – his resemblance to my current nemesis put me on edge. And that was before he spoke.
Lifting his nose and sniffing the air, an expression of disgust flitted across his face. ‘What is that?’ he sneered in a strong Scottish brogue. Then he spotted me. ‘What are you?’
I resisted the temptation to kick him out. Whoever he was and however he acted, if he could help Lizzy I could deal with his ego. That didn’t mean I was going to roll over or simper like a helpless damsel in distress, though. I knew his type: give him an inch and he’d walk all over me.
‘The woman whose house you’re in,’ I answered coldly. I flicked a look at the woman. ‘Is this the best you can do? This guy with the ego the size of a blimp?’
She had the grace to look embarrassed on his behalf. ‘Give him a minute. He has, uh, a sensitive nose. It’s probably affecting him adversely.’
The man pushed past her and walked towards me, his expression glinting with a predatorial glare that made me want to turn and flee. I resisted the urge to step back and held my ground.
‘Sunshine,’ he muttered. ‘You smell of sunshine.’ He smiled slowly, his eyes crinkling. ‘Despite your hair, you’re rather pretty,’ he purred. ‘I like the freckles.’
His words were probably designed to make me want to drop my knickers right then and there, but his arrogant manner did little more than rankle. ‘Be still my beating heart,’ I said irritably. ‘What a wondrous compliment.’
He moved back a few inches, providing me with the breathing space I needed. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t impress me.’
The first thing I’d learnt when I’d started gambling properly was never to tell anyone what irked me because it only encouraged them to do it even more. So, of course, that’s what I did. I raised my eyebrows as if bored. ‘Oh no. I’m devastated.’