by Ian Woodhead
Gavin repeatedly tugged at his jacket while making a funny little moaning noise at the back of his throat. Had his companion caught the Mexican wave panic as well? If so, then why did he feel perfectly fine? Callum wasn’t exactly ready to chill out with a few beers but he certainly wasn’t running around like headless chickens like everybody else. Perhaps the foreknowledge had helped to prepare him for what was to come?
That skin lotion which cost enough to feed both Gavin and himself for a month would be staying in that basket, along with the rest of those inessential essential items forever. Nobody was coming back to put that and all the other crap on the shelves.
“Callum, you weirdo. What the fuck is going on?” He tugged at his jerked again. “Oh crap. What’s wrong with you, man? We need to move it!”
“Young man. Moving it is exactly what we are doing. Oh, hang on, these will come in handy.” Callum ran over to another aisle, picked a few chocolate bars from the shelf, and stuffed them in his pocket. He then grabbed a couple more and hurried back over to Gavin. “Do you know what’s really funny?” Gavin looked at him like he’d lost half of his marbles. “Thing is, I should have let you continue fleecing the normals. I mean, you know with what’s happening and stuff?”
“What is happening?”
“For crying out loud, man! Will you pull your head out of your arse and keep up with current events? That bloody great big Goliath must have turned up. You know, the one that Harry told us about just a few hours ago? Here, get this down your neck.” He passed him one of the chocolate bars. “Maybe the sugar rush will help you put your brain into gear.”
“Surely you can’t be serious.”
Callum grinned. “I am serious, and don’t call me…”
Gavin pressed his hand across the older man’s mouth. “That wasn’t even funny the first time around.”
Callum shrugged and pulled the lad’s hand away. “At least some of your brain is still functioning. That’s a relief. As for where we’re going, I figured we’d make our way down to Basin Street. No bugger goes down there. We ought to slip away easily enough.”
Gavin eyed the chocolate then looked back at Callum. The kid was obviously having trouble processing this utterly fantastic information and judging from the distraught expression spread all over the kid’s ugly mug, he wasn’t doing very well.
Callum simply grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the back of the shop. He had no time for niceties. He reached the stairway which led to the ground floor, the underground carpark, and the way out. “We’re almost there, Gavin. We’ve just these steps to go down and we’ll be at the fire exit.”
Gavin released another one of those weird noises when the three lights which illuminated the stairwell flickered twice before going out, plunging the area into darkness. The only light now came from behind them and from the twin spears of white light coming through the doors below them.
“I think that’s our signal to get the hell out of Dodge,” he said while wondering how long it would be before the other lights followed suit. Shit the bed, now that would be terrifying. The normals who spent their hard-earned cash on buying crap like scented clay designed to smooth out your skin and shampoo containing argon oil had no clue how terrifying it was to be stuck in a pitch-black enclosed environment. Gavin would freak out. That much he did know. Especially if… Callum shut his mind to the very thought of the other—things, Harry mentioned. No, that just had to be fiction.
He raced down the steps, reached the next set of doors, and peered through one of the windows. Even in full light, the very thought of the other part of Harry’s prophetic warnings turned him cold, and it took a great deal of effort not to burst out laughing at such absurdity.
So he was quite happy to believe that a huge monster had arrived from a parallel reality all set to turn Brandale into rubble, but he couldn’t get to grips with man-sized monsters, despite already almost dying at the claws of smaller versions that were just as nasty. What was wrong with him?
“You’ve got it all wrong, dude. It’s probably a bomb threat or something. Yeah, that sounds about right.” Gavin patted him on the shoulder. “Dude, it’s a bomb threat. It’s got to be.”
That kid’s sense of denial was far greater than his, that’s for damn sure. A bomb threat? Oh yeah, Callum would just love this to turn out to be something as benign as a bomb threat. Hell, even something more insidious like a bunch of terrorists shooting up the mall with Kalashnikovs would be preferable to stand here, looking through this stupid window, and checking for signs of any man-sized monsters that he didn’t believe in.
Callum pushed the door open wide enough so he and Gavin could squeeze through. “Don’t make a single sound,” he whispered and, to his utter shock, the kid actually nodded in agreement. That one action caused his heartbeat to quicken. Did that mean Gavin no more believed that this was a bomb threat than he believed that the Goliath’s familiars had already infiltrated this store?
He sneaked across the cream tiles, heading for the clothing section. Callum decided that cutting through was preferable to following the designated route. It was much quicker for one thing. His companion stayed a couple of paces behind. The lad sounded more scared than he should be for just a bomb threat. Gavin then grabbed Callum and forced him down to the floor. He nodded over to a large shoe display.
It took him a second or two to see what had spooked the lad.
“We are so fucked!” moaned Gavin.
Callum rested his hand on the younger man’s thigh and squeezed gently, hoping he’d take that as a comforting gesture. He did not want him to panic. That would get them both killed.
The display sign proudly announced that the Lin Tau trainer had lightweight cushioning and a visible air-sole unit which Callum couldn’t work out what the rest of the display said due to a segmented insectile creature, the size of a domestic cat, clinging on to the sign. It wasn’t quite man-sized, but it still posed a significant threat. Those hooked claws on its feet kinda told Callum that it wasn’t a grass eater. This was a hunter alright, and it was down here searching for a new three-piece suit.
Callum reached up and took a blouse off the rail.
“What the hell are you going to do with that?”
“Shut up.” Damn, the beast must have heard them! It clambered down from the sign and disappeared behind a shop-floor mannequin. He held the blouse in one hand while gripping the wooden coat hanger with the other. “Stay close,” he said before moving closer to the tiles. Perhaps he should have followed the route after all. At least this way, nothing could jump out at them.
He stopped. That thing skittered through the other side of the clothing, knocking down trousers and nighties. He spun around and pushed passed Gavin. “Get back to the door!” he said. “It’s coming right for us.” A carousel holding sale price clothing toppled over just as the little beast leaped from the floor towards Callum’s face. He yelped, threw the blouse at it then smashed the hanger on its head. It squealed then vanished again. Callum turned and saw Gavin hadn’t moved an inch. “Do you still think it’s a bomb threat?”
Callum didn’t receive any reply; the lad just stood in front of him, shaking like a leaf.
“Hey, calm down, Gavin. Don’t look so worried. It’s gone now and I doubt it’ll be back.” Frigging hell. If the kid was going to freeze up at the sight of that, how would he cope when they got out of here? “Come on, Gavin. We still need to make tracks. I don’t think the lights are going to stay on for much longer.”
Gavin shook his head. The kid then reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a kitchen knife. It still had a price tag on the handle. He’d swiped it from here.
“I hope you’re not thinking of using that on me.”
Gavin shook his head again. “Look behind you, man,” he moaned.
Callum turned to find another two were swerving through the clothing racks. These were larger, much larger. He remembered the description Harry gave them and found it fit these creatures exactl
y, and all he had to defend himself was a stupid coat hanger! The creatures moved apart and approached them from opposite directions.
He threw the coat hanger at the monster coming towards him then pelted towards the double doors, hoping to God that Gavin was right behind him. His worst fears were confirmed when he risked a glance over his shoulder to find the kid hadn’t moved an inch. To make matters even worse, more creatures were heading towards the kid now and he stood there, holding out that little knife of his, like that was going to save him.
“Gavin, get over here!”
“No, save yourself, dude. I got this.”
“You fucking idiot,” he snarled, running back toward him. Callum grabbed a bunch of glass reed diffusers as he passed a scented candle display, thinking they’d have to do for missiles. He threw the first one just before he reached his companion. The glass canister arced through the air and smashed on the monster’s back.
The overpowering scent of apple pumpkin blasted into their nose along with the stench of what smelled like burning meat. The monster jerked to a sudden halt, screeched out in agony, and dropped to the floor.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” gasped Callum. The stuff inside the glass had melted through the creature’s armoured plate, bone, and muscle like strong acid. A low growl then reminded him that there wasn’t just one of them. He turned his head and yelled out in shock when he saw the other one charging straight for them. All the reed diffusers fell from his hands in panic.
Gavin dropped to the floor and scooped up two of the unbroken ones. He then flung them at the charging creature. One broke against its face. The result was terrifying as well as spectacular. The liquid ate through everything organic, leaving it without a head. It collapsed and fell into a pool of the stuff.
Callum picked the lad off the floor. “Harry and the others need to know about this!”
Gavin nodded. “Yeah, too right. God, what a blast! Hang on, let me get some more. You know, just in case.” He raced over to the shelf. “Callum, what do you think, lemon lavender or clean cotton?”
“Seriously, does it fucking matter? Just pick some and get back here.” Callum eyed the rest of the room for signs of any more of those things while watching those lights, sure that a couple of them had just flickered. It wouldn’t matter how much of their new secret weapon that carried. If the lights did go, the pair of them wouldn’t stand a chance. “Come on, man! There’s other places in Brandale which stock them, you know. Get over here!”
He snatched one of the diffusers out of Gavin’s hand, ripped it out of the box, and wrapped his fingers around the glass. He had to admit, it did give him a small amount of comfort. Callum hurried through the clothing department and headed straight for the fire exit. The need to get back into the fresh air going more urgent as it became obvious that the lights down here really were flickering.
“Callum, I think I can hear something.”
“Forget about it, man. We know this stuff kills them. Stop looking for more targets.” He turned around to find he’d been talking to himself. Gavin was already rushing towards the baby section. “Get back here, you dickhead! The lights are about to go out.”
Gavin paid no attention to his yelling and continued to run across the floor. Callum heard him shout something intelligible before he let a surprised yell and vanished from sight. The vision of several monsters lying flat against the thick dark grey carpet and pulling the lad down to the floor and ripping him into tiny pieces refused to leave his mind. Callum glanced at the fire exit, now almost within reach to where Gavin had vanished. “Why are you doing this to me, you shithead?” he growled.
Callum took a deep breath, kissed the reed diffuser, and ran along the tiled route while praying to God that his wild imagination was wrong. He caught movement in the corner of his eye. He stopped and looked to his left. He wanted to run there and then, to get the hell out of here and forget this stupid heroic gesture. Callum counted nine more monsters clinging to the wall, right at the back of the shop. They were looking right at him too. “Gavin!” he shouted. “Get your arse back here, right now!”
He spotted more movement, this time from the floor, next to a section of new baby clothes. Gavin lifted his head up, grinning like a bloody idiot. He even had the audacity to give Callum a little wave. His fury at the boy acting like an arse vanished when he noticed Gavin wasn’t alone. A grey-haired middle-aged woman held Gavin’s hand. She wore a pale green Celador uniform.
“Miss, can you run?”
She nodded.
“Good!” The creatures were now scuttling along the walls, heading straight for them. “Then fucking run!” Callum raced straight for the fire exit, well aware that those things were gaining on them. He heard Gavin shout out a warning. Callum then felt someone push him to the side just as one of the monsters dropped from the ceiling. Gavin smashed one of the reed diffusers on it before picking Callum up.
The three of them reached the fire exit just as every light in the room died, plunging them into darkness.
“I can’t see!” shouted Gavin.
Callum felt his way up the side of the door, trying to locate the bar while listening to the sound of coat hangers falling to the floor as those monsters ran towards them. He found the bar and pushed it down. Weak yellow light took away some of that impenetrable darkness but only enough for Callum to see the two of those monsters had already reached them!
Gavin saw them too. He rolled onto his back and kicked out, his boots smashing into the face of one of those evil-looking fiends. Callum grabbed the woman’s wrist and tugged her to safety. “Gavin, move it!” He threw the glass canister at the creatures. It detonated and sprayed them all. The resulting howls of agony were music to Callum’s ears. He helped his companion through the open door and slammed it shut.
“Are you okay, miss?”
She gazed into his brown eyes and simply shook her head.
“Gavin, help our new friend up.” He ran over to the doors which led outside and pushed them open which filled the room with sunlight. He heard Gavin complain that he’d lost all of his grenades. He also heard the woman tell both him and Gavin that her mate, Stacy, was still in there and they had to get her out. Callum just gripped the metal bar and cried in horror at the sight of the gigantic, horrific creature rising over the city’s rooftops, its six massive legs holding up a body longer than an oil tanker. Callum sank to the floor, his own legs giving out on him. He gazed in utter terror while this living nightmare’s head snapped down and bit through the side of an apartment block.
“Come on, man,” said Gavin, helping him up. “Don’t lose your cool now. We need to get back to the flyover while we still can.”
Callum watched it rip off more concrete, the rubble plummeting to the ground and landing on the parked cars, while the flying things around the huge monster all flew forward and into the damaged building. Even from this distance, Callum heard the screams as the flying things dragged the people out of the building and threw them into the air, only to be caught in the Goliath’s open mouth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Malc did not want to be the bait this time. The old man had made that quite clear, but Harry would not take no for an answer. After a minute of grumbling coupled with Dosser going over exactly what Harry had just said, the old man resigned himself to the task and got into position.
Malc reluctantly handed his pride and joy to Dosser.
“For crying out loud, man. Stop it with the sad eyes! You’ll get it back.”
“In one piece?”
“Scouts honour. Anyway. That wasn’t my fault.”
“Sorry, I know. Well,” replied Malc, “it’s just that she doesn’t like anyone else touching her.”
Dosser sighed. “It’s just a rifle. It isn’t your wife.”
Harry could understand the man’s reluctance. He would feel the same. Only for him, the difference was more practical. His fleshmelta wouldn’t respond to anyone else.
“Yeah, well. Just look aft
er it.”
Dosser gave the man a mock salute before taking up position behind a blue automobile.
“Do not worry, Malc. Now that the Goliath has moved away, I am confident that their numbers around this part of the city will diminish.”
Malc took off his hat and scratched the side of his head. “I know,” he said miserably. “So are the people. It doesn’t take a genius to work out why. At this rate, they’ll be nobody left to hide in the tunnels. That is, if we even get to them without ending up as dinner.”
“That will not happen, my friend.” He flashed the man a rare smile then turned and ran over to his position. He crouched next to the corner of a brick building, in sight of his two new friends. Harry lifted his fleshmelta and nodded over to Malc. Everybody was ready to face the monsters.
He checked on Dosser to see if he was ready. The old man waved the gun. Harry suspected that, despite the last unfortunate encounter, of the two old men, it had to be Dosser who had taken to this new style of existence easier than his companion. Harry found that a little strange as Malc had previous military experience whereas Dosser told him that during the troubles in Northern Ireland, he had been a salesman in a computer store. Both men had to explain what the troubles were and what a computer did.
He lowered himself when the familiar noise of another collector reached his ears. Thankfully, Harry wasn’t the only one to hear it. Dosser had already gotten ready to blast it. He waited, unable to stop his heart from speeding up. The last time, Dosser had almost died when Malc fired and only wounded the creature. The only reason why the man escaped with just scratches was his quick reactions and the realisation that the rifle could be used like a club. Dosser had managed to disable his attacker before Harry could run over and turn it into mush. Seven of the collectors had attacked them on the last occasion. Harry hoped the number would be lower now. He hoped so. His fleshmelta had yet to recharge fully.