by Philip Henry
Dave looked relieved and fumbled in his pocket and put a blue pill in Nicholl’s palm. “That’ll keep you going.”
“Is this OK? No headfuck or hallucinations?”
“Oh, right.” Dave took the pill back and replaced it with two yellow tablets. “Best take them instead.”
“You’re sure this time?”
Dave nodded quickly. “Oh yeah, they’re just caffeine.”
Nicholl threw the pills into her mouth and nodded her appreciation. When she joined the others in the hallway everyone was armed and ready to go. Rek walked in through the open door and gave Nicholl an everything’s fine nod. He armed himself from Chloe’s personal arsenal and everyone exchanged glances that said they were ready. They started to file out the door. The phone rang again. Chloe thought twice about whether or not to answer it. Every second they wasted Kaaliz and Sheridan could be killing more people. It could just be another annoying telesales person wanting to sell her double-glazing…or it could be important. Chloe grabbed the phone impatiently. The rest of them could make nothing out of the one end of the conversation they heard.
When Chloe hung up she told them. “That was Claire. The car I gave them ran out of petrol a couple of miles away. The Daves must have forgotten to fill it again. She and Tom are hiding in Dunluce Castle. What should we do?”
“She’s not a priority,” Nicholl said.
“She is a priority,” Rek said angrily. “If the prophecy is true, she and the boy are the only priority.”
“And if it’s not true?” Nicholl asked.
Rek paused before answering. “I believe it is.”
The two stared at each other. This was the first time Rek had asserted himself so strongly in Nicholl’s presence. She knew he really did believe in the prophecy. “Fine,” she said. “You go and get her. Meet up with us when she’s safe.” Nicholl led the way outside.
Lynda was last to leave. She turned to Frank and kissed him. “Sorry about bitch-slapping you in there. I really do know more about this, though. And I want you to be safe. I can fight better if I’m not trying to protect you at the same time.”
“A lesser man would feel emasculated by being told that,” Frank said wryly.
“I think my father will help us out there,” she said with a little smile.
Frank looked dubious. “Lynda, I know you’ve always wished you had a father but this guy doesn’t come highly recommended.”
“Don’t worry, I know what he is,” she said enigmatically.
“What do you…?”
“I’ll see you soon.” Lynda kissed him again and whispered in his ear, “I love you, doc.”
“I love you, too. And you owe me big when you come back so don’t try to get out of it,” Frank said without humour.
“I won’t.” She smiled at him and left, closing the door behind her.
Despite the darkness of the countryside and the chill of the November air, a small crowd had gathered around the abandoned bus by the time they got there. Nicholl had come with Lynda in her car and Chloe had followed them on her motorcycle. Rek had taken Nicholl’s car to go to get petrol and take it to Claire. The curious residents of the area went into a frenzy of whispers when they arrived. The police were doing a good job of keeping them back. Nicholl approached the sergeant in charge confidently and explained who she was. She led the two other women into the bus.
The victim’s skin was cold and grey. Nicholl lifted the blanket that the police had placed over him. She saw the wounds and immediately thought of Kaaliz. Chloe and Lynda recoiled when they saw the body. Nicholl replaced the blanket. She quickly scanned the rest of the bus and then went back outside. Lynda and Chloe followed her, glad to be leaving the corpse.
Nicholl found the sergeant again. “Have you run a check on the bus?”
“Yes,” the sergeant replied. He quickly pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped to the appropriate page. “They were all going to a Country & Western concert somewhere in…”
“How many?”
“A full load. Fifty at least.” The sergeant nervously waited for instructions and then asked what all his men had been asking him. “What are we supposed to tell people? These people, the press, what’s the official line?”
Nicholl was only half-listening. “What’s your usual cover-story?”
“A puma living in the wild, but we can hardly say a puma stole a bus.”
“You haven’t found any of the other bodies?” Nicholl asked, ignoring the sergeant’s concerns.
The sergeant shook his head. Nicholl turned back to the bus. Chloe and Lynda were standing behind her. “I don’t get it.” Nicholl shook her head.
“What don’t you get?” Chloe asked.
“Why would he do this? Where are the rest of the passengers? If he took them, then why did he leave one for us to find?”
The crowd had gone silent behind them, desperate to overhear something important. The police were quiet. And now as they all tried to fathom Kaaliz’s motives, the three women were quiet. Then everyone heard a low growl. The crowd gasped and looked around. Nicholl, Chloe and Lynda braced themselves and put a hand on their swords. The headlights from the police had created a small pocket of light on the road, but beyond that was only darkness. Complete darkness. Everyone held their breath. Another growl came, this time louder. Still no one could pinpoint where it was coming from. A few shrieks were heard from the crowd and some of them ran. The three women stood back to back in a triangle, ready for an attack from any direction. The third growl was accompanied by a crash and a huge bulge appeared in the side of the bus.
“The luggage compartment under the bus,” Lynda said breathlessly.
The three women drew their swords and ran back to the bus. They were barely halfway there when the door to the luggage compartment burst open and off its hinges. The women froze in their tracks. They watched with growing horror as the creature climbed from the compartment. The crowd screamed and ran. Nicholl alone knew what it was.
“What the hell is that?” Chloe shouted.
“It’s a Che’al. It’s a fucking Che’al,” Nicholl shouted.
Lynda turned to her. “How do we kill it?”
“Must be a half-breed. It’ll die same as a vampire, only a lot more armour to get through. And a hell of a lot stronger.” The Che’al spotted the fleeing crowd and ran at them. Nicholl charged, trying to put herself between the Che’al and the crowd but she was too late. The Che’al ran past as she swung, but it was moving too quickly and she only clipped its back with her sword. She ran after it. It was incredibly fast considering its size and bulk. Chloe and Lynda were right behind her. The Che’al ploughed into the crowd and grabbed a victim in each hand. It tore at their throats, one at a time and then drank. The crowd had mostly got off the road now and were running across the fields. The police finally had a clear shot and all the officers unloaded into the creature. The bullets had no effect. The Che’al continued its rampage forward. It discarded the two bodies it was holding and grabbed another man. The Che’al ripped his head off and drank from the neck.
“It’s getting stronger with every person it kills,” Chloe shouted.
One of the policemen had got into his car. He gunned the engine and pointed it at the Che’al. The three women stopped when they saw what he was doing, to give him a clear shot at it. They all waited as the car rocketed towards the hulking creature. The Che’al saw the car approaching, stopped and turned to face it. It threw away the latest victim and raised its fists in the air. As the car made contact, the Che’al slammed both fists down on the bonnet and the front of the car flattened under the impact. There was still enough inertia carrying the car forward so it did knock the Che’al off its feet and it was carried along on the flattened bonnet of the car ‘til the broken axle grinding on the road brought it to a stop. The Che’al punched through the windscreen and grabbed the policeman that was driving. The brave cop again drew his weapon and shot the Che’al in the face six times at point blank
range. He realised the futility of his actions only a split second before the Che’al crushed his skull.
The three women were running to the aid of the kamikaze policeman but did not make it in time. The Che’al killed him and didn’t pause to feed. It pushed through the hedge and ran off across the fields in the darkness. Nicholl and the others realised it was useless to try to follow on foot.
Lynda and Chloe looked to Nicholl for their next move. Nicholl stood with her back to them looking off in the direction that the Che’al had fled. Nicholl didn’t want the other two to see the doubt on her face. She didn’t know if they could beat a Che’al. There hadn’t been a recorded fight with one for over a hundred years. She wished she could remember how they had dealt with it then. She took out her phone and dialled. Lynda and Chloe looked at each other; clearly relieved that Nicholl was still in charge and with any luck, had a plan.
Nicholl spoke into the phone. “Ramone. Scramble the helicopter and make sure the Thermal Imaging System is online. Head towards Ballycastle. We have a Che’al on the loose. Use any and all means to destroy.”
divide…
Rek had gone to the nearest petrol station and filled a jerrycan. He raced towards Dunluce Castle. He saw the car about half a mile before the castle, abandoned on the grass verge. He slowed and checked that Claire and Tom hadn’t returned to the car to wait – they hadn’t. He carried on. He skidded to a stop outside the crumbling castle and looked around the darkened battlements for signs of life. The grounds were quiet as a graveyard. He shouted for Claire and got no response. “Chloe sent me,” he shouted. Something stirred in one corner of the castle. Claire emerged cautiously from the darkness shielding Tom behind her. Rek walked forward to meet them. Dunluce castle was having some restoration work done so he had to climb over some scaffold and there were ramps and wheelbarrows cluttering the inside.
Claire looked at him suspiciously. “Did Chloe really send you?”
“Yes, it’s all right. I’m not a vampire. I brought petrol. I’ll drive you down to your car and you can be on your way.”
Claire nodded for him to lead the way. They climbed over the builders’ materials and walked to the roadside where Rek’s car sat. Rek sensed Claire was still distrustful of him and that was why she wasn’t speaking. He didn’t push conversation on her. They stopped at the car and Rek reached through the passenger’s side window to grab the can off the seat. It wasn’t there! Rek stuck his head inside the car and looked to see if it had fallen on the floor.
“Mummy, look,” Tom shouted. Rek pulled his head out of the car and looked to where Tom was pointing. He saw Claire’s abandoned car half a mile down the road on fire. Petrol was being poured on it from twenty feet in the air and the flames were rising up the column of liquid. It was enough light to see a figure holding the can. Claire didn’t need twenty/ twenty vision to know who it was. Kaaliz dropped the can and the car exploded under him. He raced towards the terrified spectators.
Rek turned to Claire. “Back in the castle! I’ll try to hold him off.” Claire lifted Tom and ran back to the castle. Rek drew his sword and steeled himself for the fight. Kaaliz hit him head-on at high speed. Rek didn’t have time to swing his sword. He fell to the ground and his sword fell from his grasp.
Kaaliz stood over him shaking his head. “Pathetic. Where the hell did they find you?”
Rek rolled and grabbed his sword. He swung at Kaaliz but he wasn’t there anymore. He scrambled to his feet and looked around. Kaaliz dropped silently behind him and tapped his shoulder. Rek swung around and hit Kaaliz in the side of the head with his blade. Kaaliz didn’t try to defend himself. Rek pulled the sword from his flesh and lunged it forward into Kaaliz’s unguarded chest. Kaaliz looked Rek in the eyes and smiled. Rek pushed the blade forward but it wouldn’t move. It was as if Kaaliz literally had a heart made of stone that his blade wouldn’t penetrate. Kaaliz seized the blade and Rek looked at his face. The deep gouge he had made with his sword in Kaaliz’s head was gone. Kaaliz pulled the blade out of his chest with one hand and grabbed Rek around the throat with the other. He squeezed Rek’s neck, cutting off the air supply. He wanted to prolong his death. He wanted the young man to beg. Something was proving too alluring to resist, though. The boy, Xavier’s son, was in that castle. Kaaliz’s blood was boiling with anticipation. There was something about that boy. Rek’s attempt to kill him was only the briefest distraction from what he had really come here for. Rek was trying to speak and Kaaliz loosened his grasp slightly to hear what this paper hero’s final words were to be.
“I’m…going to…make you…pay…for what you did,” Rek managed to say. Rek punched Kaaliz in the face with so little strength that it almost made Kaaliz laugh. Kaaliz decided he would like to give this one a long drawn-out death. He slammed Rek’s head down repeatedly on the bonnet of the car until he was unconscious. Kaaliz let the limp body fall to the ground in front of the car. He would come back and have some fun with that one later, right now he had an urge he couldn’t resist any longer. Kaaliz picked up Rek’s sword, walked to the castle entrance and paused. The boy’s blood was so potent it was almost electrifying the air. Kaaliz smiled and went inside.
Ramone and his men had been making a methodical sweep of the countryside where the Che’al disappeared. The thermal imager had picked up the corpses of several recently killed sheep. When they took the helicopter closer to the ground they saw gates and hedges destroyed and were able to slowly follow the path the creature was taking. It had to be moving at incredible speed. Ramone consulted his map and it looked as if it was heading for the coast somewhere around Ballycastle.
“Sir,” one of his men said loudly. Ramone looked at the young man with the lap-top on his knee. “I’m afraid I can’t get online with the Ministry’s server. The HQ’s connection is…”
“The HQ’s gone. You’ll have to find the back-up or try to get in through Ministry Intelligence. If you can’t get an official line on how to kill one of these things go to the mythology and legend sites. Anything you can find to give us an advantage would be a help.” The young man nodded and the keys rattled frantically beneath his fingers.
“Sir,” the pilot shouted over the helicopter’s engines. “We have a visual on it.”
Ramone looked at the coloured image on the screen, pausing and charging in bursts across the landscape. “Light it up,” Ramone shouted. The pilot switched on the helicopter’s spotlight and guided it until it illuminated the Che’al, running far below them. Ramone looked around at the immediate area. Telegraph poles, trees, wetlands – in short, nowhere to set down. He referred to his map again. If it continued on its present course and at its present speed it would reach Carrick-a-rede in about fifteen minutes. That was their best bet. There was somewhere to put the helicopter down and they could get ahead of the beast and be prepared when it got there. He took out his satellite phone and called Nicholl. Nicholl agreed on the plan. They would meet the helicopter at Carrick-a-rede. They would make their stand there.
Nicholl knew where Carrick-a-rede was. When she was young her family used to go there on day trips and cross the famous Carrick-a-rede rope bridge that led to the island. It was a favourite with tourists who enjoyed the rustic charms and exhilaration of walking across the swaying structure with only rocks and the sea eighty feet below them at the bottom of the sheer drop. Carrick-a-rede means “the rock in the road” because the island and the adjacent narrow channel between it and the mainland act as a barrier to migrating salmon. They are deflected north into the nets laid by local fishermen who use the bridge to get to the fishery on the island. Many tourists who brave their way across the bridge have lost their nerve at the thought of going back and have to be ferried back by fishing boat.
When Nicholl was young she had been too scared to cross the bridge and had thrown a tantrum as her family tried to convince her it was safe. She later thought it hadn’t been a good idea to watch Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom the night before going. She hadn’t made i
t across that year and had sat with her mum while her dad took Mitzi across. Mitzi had called her a scared baby, and she hated that Mitzi was right, but it still wasn’t enough to get her to set foot on the bridge. She had stewed over it until the next year when she made sure she stepped onto the bridge first. Then she got her revenge by calling Mitzi a baby for having to take her dad’s hand to walk across when she had gone by herself. Nicholl hadn’t been back since her triumphant crossing. Later that year, 1986, her father had died. She always intended to come back and try to recapture those happy days spent at Carrick-a-rede. She never thought she would be going back there like this. She never thought she might actually die there.
Nicholl skidded the car to a stop next to the Larrybane Tea Room. It was dark apart from a few fire escape lights that were on constantly. Chloe’s bike roared to a stop beside the car. Nicholl and Lynda were out of the car immediately and arming themselves with the weapons on the backseat. Chloe got off, hung her helmet on the handlebars of the bike and joined them. They each took a sword and at Nicholl’s prompting took two grenades and hooked them onto their belts. Nicholl added more equipment than the other two: knives, emergency flares, and a small flask of holy water. She thought there was no point in burdening the other two down with these items, as they would probably never think to use them in the heat of battle. They could hear the loud chopping noise behind them getting closer. Nicholl laid out the remaining weapons on the boot of the car so they could be reached easily. There was stakes, knives, more grenades, hand-guns and two spare swords. Nicholl took out her phone and called Ramone.
“We’ll be there soon,” Ramone’s voice shouted over the background noise. “We thought we could beat it there, but I swear it’s chasing us. We see your lights. Our ETA is four minutes and it’s right behind us.”
“We’re ready,” Nicholl said.