Joe Coffin [Season 4]

by Preston, Ken

  He pressed the jagged sliver of wood against Emma’s neck.

  Emma moaned and arched her head back and to one side so that she didn’t have to look in Gilligan’s face anymore.

  Wait, there in the undergrowth, was that Gilligan’s gun? It was right by her hand.

  Emma closed her fingers around it, the pins and needles making it difficult to hold. But she had it, and she lifted her arm, holding the gun clumsily. As she brought it around, the gun fired, the loud gunshot in Gilligan’s uninjured ear jerking him back upright.

  Emma grasped the gun as best she could in both swollen, tingling hands and pointed it at Gilligan, who was now upright and back on his knees.

  ‘Give me that,’ Gilligan snarled.

  Emma pulled the trigger, and the gun jerked in her hand, the bullet missing Gilligan again.

  Gilligan ducked, throwing his arms over his head. He straightened up again, smiling.

  ‘Now, you’re a terrible shot young lady, that you are.’

  Rage contorting her face, Emma screamed and pulled the trigger once more. Again the gun bucked in her clumsy grip, but this time Gilligan cried out as he was shoved backwards by an invisible force slamming into him. He hit the ground and reached up for his shoulder.

  ‘Fuck!’ he screamed. ‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’

  A scarlet stain blossomed out from underneath Gilligan’s hand where he was gripping his shoulder.

  Emma climbed shakily to her feet. Gilligan began to sit up, but Emma pointed the gun two handed at him and he sank back to the ground.

  ‘What, are you going to kill me now?’ Gilligan said. ‘Go on then, girl, let’s see you do it.’

  Emma continued holding the gun on Gilligan, her hands trembling almost uncontrollably.

  ‘You can’t do it, can you?’ Gilligan said. His face was white from the pain, and blood trickled over his hand and down his shirt front.

  He struggled back up to a sitting position.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ Emma hissed.

  ‘Ah now, if you want me to stay here you’re going to have to use that thing and shoot me, that you are,’ Gilligan grunted as he climbed on to his knees.

  Screwing her eyes down to tiny slits, Emma squeezed the trigger. The gun bucked in her hands as it fired, and Emma saw a piece of bark exploding on a tree trunk behind Gilligan as the bullet smacked into it.

  Gilligan giggled drunkenly. ‘You couldn’t hit the side of a barn, could you?’

  Emma fired the gun.

  She missed again.

  Gilligan took a step towards her, and another.

  ‘I’ve decided, young lady,’ he said. ‘This isn’t working now, is it? So, what I’m going to do is kill you first and then fuck you, while you’re still warm. It’ll be a lot less trouble for both of us that way.’

  Gilligan cackled.

  Emma pulled the trigger again.

  The bullet exploded from the muzzle and smacked into Gilligan’s abdomen. He screamed and doubled over, his knees buckling.

  He collapsed on the bed of leaves and grass on his side, curled up and moaning in pain.

  Emma stood over him, up close, the gun pointed at his head.

  She pulled the trigger.

  This time it clicked on an empty chamber.

  Gilligan started wheezing with laughter. ‘You’ve got no bullets left! Oh that is sweet.’ He coughed up some blood and spat it out. ‘Just give me a second and I’ll be with you.’

  Emma let the gun drop to the ground.

  The feeling was coming back to her hands. She flexed her fingers. The pins and needles were fading away.

  Gilligan coughed up more blood. His breathing had taken on a ragged, gurgling quality.

  Still, somehow, he was managing to get on to his feet.

  He grinned at her, exposing his teeth, stained red.

  Emma picked up the broken length of walking stick where Gilligan had dropped it. She held by its broken end and swung the head at Gilligan with all the strength she had left.

  The hard, knobbly grip connected with Gilligan’s skull with a sharp, wet crunch.

  His eyes lost focus and his jaw hung open. Amazingly he remained standing.

  Emma screamed and swung the stick again. The end smacked into Gilligan’s skull in the same place and a spray of blood splattered her in the face.

  This time Gilligan dropped to the ground.

  Emma straddled him and swung the stick again, smashing it into his face.

  Again and again she pounded the stick at Gilligan’s face, pulping his nose into a bloody mush, caving in his teeth and his cheeks, beating him until he was unrecognisable.

  Finally she paused, panting, her hair hanging over her blood caked face, her eyes wide and staring.

  Then she raised the stick in her hand, holding it high, and lifted her face up to the heavens and screamed.

  joe

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I was you.’

  Stilts eased the pressure up on Coffin’s jaw as both he and Gosling turned to see who had spoken. Coffin twisted his head to take a look.

  ‘You took your bloody time,’ he said.

  ‘We’ve been here a while, watching the fun.’

  Leola had a handgun in each hand, arms outstretched, one pointed at Gosling and one at Stilts. She was standing with her feet planted apart, all in black.

  She was smiling.

  The Priest appeared from behind Leola. He had a handgun in each hand too, but he looked more casual. He held the guns by his sides.

  ‘Put the shotgun down,’ Leola said to Stilts.

  Stilts didn’t move. Although he had moved back slightly, the shotgun was still trained on Coffin. One pull on the trigger and Coffin’s face would be obliterated.

  ‘Joe, who are your friends?’ Gosling said.

  ‘Tell the little guy to put the gun down,’ Leola said.

  ‘And y’all gone see the good Lord soon if’n you done put down that gasoline,’ the Priest said.

  Duchess lowered the jerry can to the floor. Put his hands in the air.

  Stilts had not moved, the shotgun still pointed at Coffin.

  ‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little stalemate, doesn’t it?’ Gosling said. ‘You see, Stilts has always been a little trigger-happy, isn’t that right Stilts?’

  Stilts said nothing, just stared at Leola blank faced.

  ‘And I’m afraid that if you shoot him that shotgun of his will probably go off, and then Joe here will lose his head.’

  ‘What do you think about that?’ Leola said to Stilts. ‘You prepared to die just so’s you can shoot Joe Coffin?’

  ‘Ah now, you’ve never met Stilts before, have you?’ Gosling said. ‘Thing is, Stilts doesn’t say much. You could say he’s a little short on conversation.’

  ‘Ohh, look at tha’, I’ve broke a nail,’ Duchess said, examining his fingernails. ‘I onny painted ’em yisterdey.’

  ‘Don’t pay any attention to them,’ Coffin said. ‘They’re just trying to distract you.’

  ‘Tell the little guy to put down the gun,’ Leola said to Gosling.

  ‘Well now you’re insulting him,’ Gosling said. ‘He’s not deaf, just mute. You should show a little more respect.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Leola said, and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit Stilts in the shoulder, twisting him around on the spot under its impact and causing him to swing the gun around. The shotgun went off, both barrels narrowly missing Duchess and splintering the bar apart. Duchess screamed and ran, his legs peppered with tiny lacerations from the shot. The petrol soaked bar burst into flames.

  Coffin leapt to his feet and yanked the shotgun out of Stilts’ hands. Stilts had discharged both barrels, and the gun was empty, but Coffin was able to club Stilts in the face. Stilts’ nose crunched under the impact, but he made no noise, no cry of pain. Coffin swung back around to face Gosling.

  The big man could move faster than Coffin thought possible. Gosling threw a punch at Coffin’s face, but C
offin stepped out of the way and slammed the shotgun into Gosling’s stomach. Gosling doubled over, grunting with the impact.

  Another gunshot. Leola, firing at Duchess who was running across the club being chased by a stream of fire.

  Gosling, still doubled over, head-butted Coffin in the stomach and wrapped his arms around him. The fat man kept his momentum going and propelled them over and down onto the floor slick with puddles of petrol.

  Coffin hit the floor on his back with Gosling on top. He dropped the shotgun as he fell and it had skittered across the floor out of reach. The big man had him pinned to the floor. Gosling was panting and his face was blotchy red and dripping with beads of sweat.

  ‘You look about ready to have a heart attack,’ Coffin said.

  Gosling grinned. ‘Don’t worry about me, Joe. Never felt better.’

  Suddenly the air was filled with automatic gunfire. Bullets shredded through furniture and walls.

  Duchess was screaming with laughter.

  ‘Duchess, watch where you’re aiming that bloody thing!’ Gosling shouted. ‘You almost took my bloody head off!’

  The air was thickening with dirty, oily smoke as the fires spread. Coffin had no idea where Leola or the Priest were.

  Coffin used the distraction by Duchess to shove Gosling off. The man was heavy, but Coffin managed to tip him enough that Gosling overbalanced and Coffin was able to crawl out from under him. He kicked out at Gosling and rolled on his front to stand up.

  And came face to face with tongues of fire dancing towards him.

  Coffin scrambled onto his feet as the flooring ignited beneath him. He ran to a section of the club untouched by fire, coughing and retching as his lungs filled with black smoke.

  All of a sudden, Coffin was aware of his feet growing warmer. He looked down and saw his shoes had caught fire and quickly kicked them off his feet.

  The smoke was growing thick enough that visibility was limited. Duchess started firing the automatic again, the bullets slamming into the walls and furnishing.

  Coffin got back down on the floor.

  Suddenly the sound of rapid gunfire stopped.

  ‘Duchess?’ Gosling roared.

  ‘The man-lady ain’t gone fire no gun no more,’ the Priest shouted and began cackling.

  Where the hell was Leola? Had she been hit? Overcome with smoke? She was a vampire, did she even need to breathe? There was so much about her that Coffin didn’t know.

  Coffin started coughing again. He had to find a way out before he was overcome with smoke inhalation.

  Coffin scrambled along the floor, following a line of skirting board to where he was certain the exit was located.

  There was a soft WHOOMPH! and the tinkling of glass as something exploded.

  In front of Coffin a shape began materialising out of the swirling smoke.

  Coffin tensed.

  It was Stilts, running through the smoke and clutching his injured shoulder. He ran straight past Coffin and disappeared again.

  Leola emerged from the smoke too and crawled up to Coffin.

  ‘We can’t go that way,’ she said. ‘It’s blocked off.’

  ‘Shit,’ Coffin said.

  ‘What happened to your shoes?’

  ‘Had to get rid of them.’

  Leola’s eyes widened as she looked above and behind Coffin.

  Coffin turned around. There was a large, dark shadow emerging from within the dirty, foul smoke.

  And it was much bigger than Stilts.

  ‘I’m going to kill you, Joe!’ the shadow shouted. ‘I’m going to skin you alive and eat your heart!’

  Gosling appeared from the cloud of oily smoke. His shirt was ripped and singed in places and his face was slick with sweat running into smudges of black.

  In each fist he was gripping a knuckleduster.

  Gosling swung his fist, connecting with Coffin’s cheek and opening up the flesh. Coffin managed to block the next punch with his arm and swung around, using his elbow on Gosling’s chin. The big man rocked back on his heels and Coffin used the moment to stab him straight handed in the throat.

  Gosling began choking. Coffin moved in to deliver a killer punch, to knock the big man on the floor, when he was pulled up short by a yell from Leola and a searing pain in his left calf muscle.

  Stilts had his teeth fastened on Coffin’s leg. Coffin roared and bent down and grabbed Stilts two-handed. Tried to yank him off.

  The little man increased the pressure, sinking his teeth even deeper into Coffin’s flesh.

  Coffin punched him on the back, right in his lower spine, and Stilts finally let go.

  Coffin picked Stilts up with both hands and threw him into the cloud of smoke. Coffin heard a clattering and smashing noise as the little guy landed.

  Turning back to face Gosling, Coffin threw his hands up, ready for another attack.

  But Gosling had gone.

  There was another soft explosion as something else caught fire. A black cloud of smoke began billowing towards Coffin and Leola.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Coffin said.

  With a tearing, ripping sound a section of the ceiling gave way. It crashed to the floor sending up clouds of dust and tiny fragments of debris. The smoke was forced outward in waves before swirling back in on itself, but in that moment Coffin saw a path to the exit.

  ‘This way!’ Coffin hissed.

  Before they could move, Gosling appeared from the black smoke. His clothes, his hair, everything was aflame. He had a burning length of wood, maybe a chair leg, clenched in his fist. His eyes were bulging from his smouldering flesh, his lips had already been burnt away exposing his teeth.

  When he saw Coffin and Leola he opened his mouth wide and let rip with an inarticulate roar of rage.

  Dragging Leola with him, Coffin ran for where he had seen the exit. The route was covered with flaming puddles of petrol. Coffin ran straight for it, his bare feet splashing through the pools of fire. They both kept their heads down, coughing hard as they inhaled more smoke.

  Suddenly they were tumbling down the stairs. Coffin was the first to pull himself upright. He grabbed hold of Leola and they both staggered outside. Coffin collapsed and Leola pulled off her jacket and used it to wrap around Coffin’s smouldering feet.

  They could hear Gosling inside, smashing at things, shouting and screaming.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ Coffin said.

  ‘Can you walk?’ Leola said.

  Coffin grimaced. ‘Yeah, just about.’

  They both looked up at the Punchline, at the smoke pouring from the windows.

  ‘What about your money?’ Leola said.

  ‘That’s probably on fire now, like the rest of the place.’

  ‘Wait, the Priest, I can’t go without him,’ Leola said.

  ‘Why, that’s almighty touching, girl,’ the Priest said, emerging from seemingly out of nowhere.

  Leola helped Coffin up on his feet and the Priest supported him on the other side.

  ‘You okay?’ Leola said.

  Coffin grunted. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

  The faint sound of sirens carried across the city to them. It was strange, a fire like this, there should have been a crowd, people fleeing the scene.

  But the city was deserted. Like a ghost town.

  Coffin looked up at the smoke billowing from smashed windows upstairs, and the flickering orange glow.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said.

  darkness falls

  Day turned into night and darkness crept over the city and, as it did so, the bats came out of their hiding places. They began filling the skies, turning the evening even darker and filling it with the sibilant rustling of wings beating at the night air. They filled the streets of the city, a black, undulating mass of winged bodies. How could there be so many bats here in Birmingham? Where had they been hiding all this time?

  When the first of the bats were seen, anyone outside soon got themselves back inside again
. Those that didn’t, the curious, the foolhardy, or the ones who lived on the streets and had no place indoors to go to, they soon realised they needed to find protection.

  These bats attacked, using their teeth and claws to draw blood.

  As the night drew in more and more of the bats came out of their hiding places.

  And with them came the vampires.

  Acknowledgements

  As usual I must thank Carrie Rowlands for her initial critique of the first draft, and her questions about where the story was headed.

  Also deserving my thanks are Jamie Few, Blanche Padgett, Julian White and Philip Daniel Angel.

  Thanks also due to Kerry Hadley-Pryce for her translation of Duchess’ dialogue into deepest Black Country dialect.

  And also thank you to you, the reader, for your continued love affair with Joe Coffin.

  More Books

  The Joe Coffin Series

  Joe Coffin Season One

  Joe Coffin Season Two

  Joe Coffin Season Three

  Joe Coffin Season Four

  Short Story Collections

  Population:DEAD! and other weird tales of horror and suspense

  Trapped Within

  Dark Designs

  Young Adult Books

  The Devil and Edward Teach

  Planet of the Dinosaurs Book One: Project Wormhole

  Caxton Tempest at the End of the World

  Writing as MJ Jackson

  Twenty Seconds to Free Fall

  Christmas in Paris

  Hollywood Adventure

  Lethal Injection

  The Ocean’s Slave

  Woman of Mystery

  To keep up with all my work and anything else I am up to please visit:

  kenpreston.co.uk