Lycanthropic (Book 4): Moon Rise [The Age of the Werewolf]

by Morris, Steve

  He had to be realistic though. Leanna may not be a bag of laughs, but she was a highly gifted young woman. A werewolf and a genius too. Almost certainly mad, but that was easy to overlook in one so talented and ambitious. All things considered, Leanna Lloyd might just be his best bet.

  At least they both had clothes to wear now, even if they were slightly torn and bloody. And his belly was nice and full, thanks to the previous occupants of the clothing. Oh yes, things were definitely looking up.

  ‘Are you sure we’re heading the right way?’ Leanna asked him.

  ‘Yes. I already told you. I know these sewers like the back of my hand.’

  ‘These tunnels all look the same to me.’

  ‘That, my dear, is because you are woefully uneducated when it comes to the workings of the underworld. Don’t worry. Most people are. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say, and that has never been truer than when it comes to sewerage.’

  ‘Whereas you –’

  ‘Yes, my dear, I am a connoisseur of crap.’ He gave her a wink. ‘Did you ever imagine that the London sewer network could be so extensive? It is, quite possibly, the greatest infrastructure project of the nineteenth century.’

  Leanna said nothing, feigning disinterest, but listening to him with rapt attention nonetheless. His old gift for teaching hadn’t deserted him. He felt like a magician, pulling rabbits from a hat, each white rabbit a nugget of knowledge. Or perhaps rabbit poop would be a better metaphor in this case. Whatever. He continued with his lesson.

  ‘The original architect of the network was Sir Joseph Bazalgette. What a wonderful name, don’t you think? He constructed more than ten thousand miles of pipes, tunnels and drains. Think of that – ten thousand miles of sewer in a city measuring just ten miles across. The system joins up with the capital’s lost rivers, the tributaries of the Thames that were buried underground as the city rose above the plains. We may see some of them on our journey, if we are lucky.’

  ‘Just as long as we get out of this horrible place as soon as possible.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you are in good hands. We are in the middle level sewers right now. No doubt the deepest levels are completely flooded. Our route will take us west beneath central London. And then …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The sewer system won’t take us all the way out of the city, only so far. Then we’ll have to find another way. But don’t worry, I have some ideas about that.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me this before.’ Leanna’s voice was heavy with suspicion.

  ‘Well, I’m telling you now. When we’ve travelled as far as we can through the sewers, we’ll cross over into one of the near-surface railway lines, probably the Piccadilly line, and that will lead us right to the very edge of London. Anyway, I thought you’d be glad to leave the sewer behind.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I can’t promise you safety, however. I don’t know what we’ll find when we reach the surface.’

  ‘No.’

  They both fell silent for a while, consumed by their own thoughts. For all Canning knew, when they emerged from the sewers they would find themselves in a nightmare world. Fire, devastation, radioactive fallout. Hell might prove to be above ground, not below. He pictured a scorched earth, black clouds boiling overhead. A place of death, all traces of life wiped clean. On his own, Canning would perhaps have been tempted to remain underground with the rats and the perpetual stink of shit. At least it was safe here. But Leanna was desperate to escape from the city.

  ‘So, tell me about your plans,’ he said. ‘When we eventually reach our destination, what will you do then? You talked of becoming queen.’

  ‘I already am queen,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t ever forget it. I started all this. It was my idea. I brought lycanthropy from Romania and spread it all around the world. I raised and commanded a great army. I came so close to victory, I could taste it.’

  ‘But you were betrayed at the last moment,’ he prompted. ‘Your commander-in-chief abandoned you.’

  Leanna refused to respond to him, and Canning knew he was treading into dangerous territory. He mustn’t ever remind her of her failure, or mention the name of the traitor who had deserted her. Warg Daddy’s name would push her over the edge. Leanna wasn’t half as strong as she believed. She was brittle, and unable to face the truth of her own shortcomings. He had seen school bullies who were just the same. To suggest that she was weak was to invite violent retribution.

  ‘So you plan to rebuild your army?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Of course. I will gather all the surviving werewolves together. I will wipe any resistance from my path. And then I will do as I please. This time, I will be unstoppable.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said, noting her constant use of the word “I”. He had never before encountered such unbridled megalomania. ‘Your plan is to rule the world. I like it. And how do you see me fitting into this picture?’

  ‘You?’ she said, as if noticing him for the first time. ‘Do you wish to help me, then?’

  ‘I desire only to serve,’ he said, bowing low.

  He wondered if his flattery was too much, if she might suspect him of mocking her, but it seemed to have the desired effect. ‘I shall need a new deputy,’ she conceded. ‘Someone loyal and capable.’

  ‘And ruthless and cunning too?’ Mr Canning grinned in what he hoped was a suitably Machiavellian way. ‘Look no further, my dear.’

  She nodded slowly in acknowledgement.

  He considered the opportunity that Leanna presented. Serving her would certainly offer him a means of advancement, and a ticket out of the ruined city. It was not like he had any better opportunities, and he disliked the idea of going alone. But he would have to watch his back, and strive to contain her worst excesses. He must not thwart her ambitions, but he ought not to feed them either. With every new scheme and victory, she would become more dangerous.

  They walked on along the brick tunnel. The water in the central channel was running against them now, showing that they were heading uphill. It would not be too far to go until they reached the end.

  ‘Why do you always wear that eye patch?’ Leanna asked suddenly.

  ‘I prefer not to talk about it.’

  ‘Have you always worn it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then what caused you to lose an eye?’

  Mr Canning stopped walking. He had no desire to relive the memory of being stabbed in the eye by one of his own Year 10 students, Rose Hallibury, armed with a ball point pen, of all things. Oh, the indignity! ‘Perhaps there’s nothing wrong with my eye. Perhaps I just wear it to frighten little girls,’ he said, leering at her. ‘Anyway, while we’re discussing our ailments, what caused that scarring on your skin?’

  The red blistering across one half of Leanna’s face had bothered him ever since he’d first laid eyes on her. It wasn’t the ugliness of the affliction that troubled him, but his inability to discover its cause. He had asked around, but no one had been able to tell him. It was a major gap in his knowledge, and Mr Canning detested gaps. When he had been headmaster at Manor Road Secondary School, he had tried his best to instil a love of learning in his young charges. ‘Lift your head out of the sand and gaze at the heavens,’ he had beseeched them, to no avail. They had been far more interested in their Netflixes and their Snapchats and their Minecrafts. Snivelling, ungrateful wretches. They were probably all dead now. At least, he hoped they were.

  Leanna grabbed his shoulder from behind and twisted him around. Her grip was like iron, far stronger than he had ever suspected. She forced him onto his knees and pushed her pockmarked face up close to his. With her spare hand she brushed her long blonde hair to one side to reveal the full extent of the scar tissue that covered one side of her face. Her red lips parted to reveal sharp white teeth. ‘Take a good long look,’ she said.

  He did, through his one eye.

  She drew back, allowing the curtain of golden hair to fall back into place.

  ‘Never,’ she sai
d, in a voice like the cracking of ice crystals, ‘mention my scars again.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Gatwick Airport, West Sussex

  Vijay Singh sat on the edge of his bed, staring silently out of the hotel window. He rocked gently back and forth, seeking comfort in the repetitive movement, studying the world outside his window, yet seeing nothing.

  One thought kept looping through his mind. Where was Rose?

  He couldn’t believe that she was dead. She must have escaped from London. She must be out there somewhere. But where?

  He couldn’t see much from the hotel window, just a multi-storey car park, almost full of cars.

  Could Rose be here in the airport somewhere, along with all the other refugees? He didn’t think so. She had last been seen heading west out of London, not south.

  Then where was she? She could be anywhere.

  ‘Vijay, come and help me with my knitting.’ The voice of his grandmother cut across his thoughts. ‘Come,’ she commanded. ‘I wish to see my favourite grandson.’

  He had never been able to resist his grandmother’s wishes. He slunk over to the chair where she was knitting, and sat on the floor in front of her.

  The knitting needles flew in her fingers, their tips moving so quickly he could hardly see them, let alone follow the patterns they made. Knitting was a mystery, as impossible to fathom as what had happened to Rose.

  ‘Enough of this moping,’ said his grandmother sternly. ‘This girl, Rose, has gone and no amount of miserable staring out of windows will bring her back.’

  ‘What should I do then?’

  ‘Go and find your friend, Drake. He will help to cheer you up.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Yes. That is what friends are for.’

  He didn’t have to go far to find Drake. He and Mihai were coming along the hotel corridor as he left the room. The pair made an odd couple. Drake, tall and muscular, with his fair hair clipped almost to his skull. Mihai, small and skinny, with chestnut eyes and a great mop of messy dark hair that had surely never been near to a pair of scissors.

  Drake greeted him excitedly. ‘Hey, Vijay, just the man we wanted. Come and see this. It’s awesome.’

  Mihai beamed at him, as if he had just won a medal. The Romanian boy was only a kid, but he wasn’t much shorter than Vijay. He and Drake seemed to have become good friends during the time Vijay had spent gazing out of his window, thinking of Rose. Two whole days must have gone by already since they came to the camp, but Vijay hadn’t left his room.

  He followed them reluctantly up the stairs of the hotel. The hotel’s lifts weren’t working now that the electricity had gone. Neither were the lights or the heating. It was funny how quickly you could grow used to it. He had almost forgotten what electricity was.

  ‘You are not gonna believe this,’ said Drake as they reached the top floor of the hotel.

  ‘What?’ asked Vijay glumly. Unless they had somehow managed to find Rose up here, he couldn’t imagine what could be so amazing.

  Drake led him along the corridor on the top floor, then through a door marked “Staff only.”

  Vijay regarded the sign and hesitated. ‘We shouldn’t be –’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Drake. ‘We shouldn’t be here. Just come on through before someone sees us.’

  On the other side of the door a staircase led up one more level. Drake and Mihai climbed it and pushed out onto the open roof of the hotel.

  ‘Ta da!’ said Drake. ‘What do you think?’

  Vijay stared in amazement. The flat rooftop was no place for hotel guests. There wasn’t even a wall or a barrier at the edge. You would literally fall right off if you weren’t careful. He hung back reluctantly, staying close to the safety of the stairwell.

  ‘How did you get up here?’ he asked. ‘Wasn’t this door kept locked?’

  Mihai nodded eagerly. ‘Yeah, door locked. But unlocking no problem.’

  Drake beamed at the kid. ‘Mihai can pick locks like your gran knits cardigans.’

  ‘You picked the lock?’

  ‘Is very easy,’ said Mihai. ‘Grandpa Kevin, he teach me how.’

  ‘Come and have a look,’ said Drake.

  Vijay made his way cautiously across the windy rooftop. He wasn’t really afraid of heights, and after a minute he lost his fear of falling. He joined the other two, and sat with them right at the very edge, dangling his feet over the side.

  ‘How far down do you think it is?’ he asked.

  Drake peered over. ‘Dunno. A hundred feet?’

  ‘Is very long way,’ agreed Mihai. ‘Best don’t fall off.’

  It was scary, but exciting. From up here, Vijay could see a lot further than from his hotel room. In front of the hotel stood the south terminal, and beyond the terminal building were the runways, and the gates where the planes were parked. He was surprised to see that the planes were still there. They looked like they were just waiting to fly away. But where would they go? Not a single plane had taken off all the time he had been here.

  ‘Look over there,’ said Drake, pointing.

  The army had set up camp on the grassy fields beyond the runways. Rows of tents were surrounded by military vehicles, including tanks and armoured cars.

  ‘That must be where Corporal Jones and the other Welsh Guards are staying.’

  Vijay nodded. He hadn’t seen the soldiers since they’d come to the airport. He’d almost forgotten about them, but he guessed they must be on duty, helping to keep the camp safe from werewolves.

  ‘You ever been in a plane?’ Drake asked Mihai.

  ‘No. Only car, train and boat. And horse, of course.’

  ‘You’ve ridden a horse?’

  ‘Small one. More like donkey.’

  ‘If you could fly anywhere, where would you go?’

  Mihai thought. ‘America,’ he said brightly. ‘I like to see big skyscrapers. Eat popcorn and watch Dallas Cowboys win Super Bowl.’

  Drake chuckled. ‘Maybe one day, yeah? What about you, Vijay? Where would you go?’

  ‘There’s only one place I want to be, and that’s wherever Rose is.’

  Drake sighed loudly. ‘Mate, you gotta forget about this Rose thing. She could be anywhere.’

  ‘I can’t forget about her,’ said Vijay. ‘She’s all that matters.’

  ‘Rose is name of girlfriend?’ asked Mihai.

  Vijay shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t really talked about Rose with anyone else, apart from Drake. To call her his girlfriend wasn’t strictly true. Perhaps it wasn’t true at all. Perhaps she had only ever been his girlfriend in his mind. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said, hoping to shut down any further discussion. ‘You’re just a kid. You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Rose is hot girl?’ persisted Mihai.

  ‘Cheeky,’ said Drake. ‘But yeah, she is.’

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ said Vijay, thinking of Rose’s pale skin, red hair and green eyes. ‘She’s just perfect.’ He gazed dreamily into the distance, lost again in his imagination.

  Drake gave him a rude shove, almost making him fall off the roof. ‘Listen, mate, the only way you’re ever gonna see her again is if you start paying attention to what’s going on right in front of you. You’re lost in a dreamworld, yeah? Life’s a hundred times more dangerous than it used to be. You gotta keep your wits about you, or you’re not gonna make it.’

  Vijay nodded. As usual, Drake was right.

  ‘And you should count your blessings,’ Drake continued. ‘You still got your friends, your family, and a place to live. That’s more than a lot of people have, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Vijay reluctantly.

  ‘My family all dead,’ said Mihai. ‘Just Liz and Grandpa Kevin now.’

  ‘And my family are all gone,’ said Drake. ‘No idea where my mum and dad are. But you, Vijay, you’ve got your mum and dad, your sister, and even your grandmother. You just don’t know how lucky you are.’

  They were right. He was lucky. And
he did need to pull himself together. But … ‘At least you have Aasha,’ he said to Drake. ‘You have a girlfriend.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Drake, ‘but to be honest we’re not really getting on too well right now. Things between us are kinda awkward.’

  ‘I know that Aasha can be difficult sometimes,’ said Vijay. That was a polite way of putting it. His sister had always been argumentative and stubborn.

  ‘It’s not just that. I wonder if the two of us really have that much in common. I wonder if she’s worth all the constant fireworks and hassle.’

  Mihai looked puzzled. ‘But Aasha is hot girl too, yeah?’

  Drake laughed. ‘I’m beginning to think that they’re the worst kind. Aasha, Rose … they’re driving us both mad. Anyway, what do you know? You’re only ten years old.’

  Mihai shrugged. ‘Sure, is only ten. Is just little kid. But still, I know this for sure. Aasha, she is very hot girl.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Norbury Park, Surrey

  The red kites circled slowly overhead, riding effortlessly on the wind, screeching eerily as the light faded. They watched Colonel Griffin from on high as he sat strapped in the mangled helicopter cockpit, staring up at them helplessly. A whole night and day had passed and still no help had come. Now, as evening fell, the Colonel was finally ready to accept the truth that the birds had known all along – that no help was coming, and that if he did not act soon he would join the pilot and co-pilot as food for the carrion eaters. The red kites knew he was dying. They must suspect, and perhaps hope, that his death would come quickly and that they could soon begin their feast.

  No food had passed his lips since the day of the crash and he had already drunk his meagre supply of water. The cockpit provided no shelter and little warmth. He had a life-threatening injury, had lost a significant amount of blood, and was at severe risk of hypothermia. He had to get himself out, and quickly, or else the twisted wreckage of the Wildcat would become his tomb.

  But how to proceed?

  If a major blood vessel was severed, then dislodging the embedded metal spike from his leg could cause a rapid and untreatable loss of blood. He had already lost a dangerous amount, and lack of fluid had not helped. Whatever he did next, he must do it quickly and decisively. By morning it would be too late to do a thing.