by Jon Jacks
Oh wow, that’s just what I wanted to hear, isn’t it?
Nowhere near Franky’s level!
I smile at him, like that’s the best news I’ve ever heard.
‘Thing is,’ he says, completely oblivious to how he’s managed to insult me, ‘Franky’s abilities were like, wow, amazing right?’
That’s it Jake; just keep on turning the screw!
I smile benignly.
But I could kill him.
Oh yes, I could cheerfully kill him.
‘So if Franky suspects anything about anybody, it makes me go back to the records and check them once again, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything first time around.’
‘Records? You have records on me?’
I point a finger back at myself.
Really, I want to be pointing it at him, saying ‘How dare you keep checks on me you…you…you…’
‘Sure,’ Jake says blithely, ‘we can’t just let anyone work here, can we? We have to run a check on your history.’
On my history?
So it’s not just keeping a record on me; it’s digging up my past too!
‘You…you checked everything about me? Is that legal?’
‘Nah, not even here! But not much we do here is legal, is it?’
Suddenly, I’m curious.
‘So, what do all the records kept on me say about me?’
‘Nothing out of the ordinary, thankfully. Well, nothing out of the ordinary going by other people who work here.’
‘Which means…’
‘Well, didn’t I say that most people here have had a near death experience? You know, waking up in a hospital and finding themselves looking down on their own body, that kind of thing. And yep, there it is in your records too.’
‘What? You mean I died – the came back to life?’
‘Sure; a car accident. Hit and run. When you were three.’
‘When I was three? But…but I can’t remember that!’
Wait, wait; isn’t that what gran had said?
That I’d died in a car accident?
But I hadn’t believed her; I’d thought she was confusing it with the later accident involving mum and dad.
‘You don’t have to remember it for it to give you the qualities we’re after, Twice; the ability to accept the presence of the spirit world.’
Then, wow, that’s great, isn’t it?
There really is a chance that I have similar qualities to Franky and everyone else here!
Jake chuckles.
‘Course, I hadn’t noticed first time I’d looked, because someone with a bit more sense had corrected the dates; but whichever doctor first recorded your death must have been half a sleep going by the dates he’d put down!’
‘Dates? What; do you mean they’d been corrected?’
‘Well, going by the original dates recorded, Twice – you’d have to have been dead for over five days, which would be impossible even for people here!’
*
Chapter 18
Around midnight, it’s so dark outside the windows that they act like mirrors.
We’re a couple of stories up from the ground, avoiding most of the glare of the street lamps below us. And, across the road, there a thin band of trees and parkland rather than other offices.
Seated behind the reception desk, I look back at my reflection in the window.
So, I really did die when I was younger.
But, fortunately, here I am; somehow, my spirit had decided to slip back into my body after all.
Had the car just knocked my spirit out of my body for a while?
Had I looked down on my little body, splayed out across the road?
Had someone been there on the borders, helping me move back into my body?
If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here now, staring at my own reflection in the glass.
My reflection waves back at me happily.
It smiles.
But I’m not waving.
And I’m not smiling.
The face moves to one side, leaving my reflection where it should be.
Oh no; I’ve invited a Nyxt to call!
*
The face drops out of view.
I rush to the window.
We’re a few floors above the street. Can the Nyxt die if they drop from–
Is that a stupid question or what?
By the time I’ve made it to the window, the slightly warped girl I’ve helped bring into being has moved across the road.
She’s waiting – hiding – in the shadows of the trees.
I’m expecting her to look back up at me, giving me an amused, challenging stare.
But she’s ignoring me.
Far as she’s concerned, I bet, I’ve done what she (he?) wanted me to.
She’s watching the main doors to our offices, like she’s waiting for or expecting someone to step through them.
Her head moves slightly, like she’s just seen someone exit.
She moves away from the trees, heading down the street.
I crane my neck, hoping I can see who she’s following.
It’s Jake!
The Nyxt is following Jake!
*
Chapter 19
I have to warn Jake that he’s being followed.
I’ve never taken his mobile number. But it will be on the list on the reception desk’s computer.
I dash back to the desk, call up the list on the computer, start searching for his name.
One of the girls I’ve finally got to know, Gillian, strolls into reception.
I’ve got Jake’s number, dialled it in, waited for the rings, waited for him to answer – what if he hasn’t got it switched on, or he doesn’t hear?
‘Gillian,’ I say before she disappears through another door, ‘sorry, but could you please just cover for me while I pop out for a minute? It’s urgent, honest!’
She makes likes she’s going to protest, but relents, smiles and makes her way towards the desk.
‘Thanks Gillian!’
I dash out the door without bothering to pick up my coat or bag.
I run down the stairs, forgoing the lift. (Too slow!)
I crash through the main doors, out onto the street.
It’s cold.
It sharpens my senses.
I break into a run, heading the way that I’d seen Jake and the girl heading. I’m being careful to ensure I’m moving as fast as I can without making any noise.
Damn! It’s impossible with these high heels!
I hop on one leg as I take a shoe off, hop on the other leg as I remove the second shoe.
I break into proper run, throwing the shoes into the wood as soon as I cross the road.
Soon, I catch up with the girl, seeing her walking alongside the road just up ahead of me.
I can’t see Jake; he’s obviously somewhere farther in front, the girl keeping her distance to make sure he’s not alerted by her presence.
Just as I keep far enough back to make sure she doesn’t know I’m following her.
If she sees me, it might make her attack Jake straight away, or whatever else it is she’s planning to do.
After a while, she takes the rough path leading into the trees.
Oh, great choice Jake!
Should I shout out to warn him?
And alert her that I’m here too?
Probably not.
The roughly surfaced trees, the tangled branches, the darkness broken by the light coming from the street lamps; it’s all a perfect landscape for seeing figures.
I have to control my fear; to make sure I’m not seeing things that aren’t really there.
Because as soon as I do see them, of course, th
ey really will be there!
A dog howls.
Like that helps!
It howls again, closer now.
There’s a crashing and breaking of branches off to my right.
Someone – or something – rushing through the undergrowth.
The dog growls menacingly.
And then, suddenly, it’s blocking my path.
The Hound of the Baskervilles!
*
Chapter 20
‘Jake!’
I cry out as loud as I can.
I know running won’t do me any good.
The massive, slavering dog standing before me would run me down before I’d gotten anywhere near the road.
If it’s not the Hound of the Baskervilles, it’s a Hell Hound.
It’s black, massive. Its eyes glow red as wet blood.
‘Help me Jake!’ I scream.
There’s no reply, no Jake rushing back through the trees to help me.
I’ve been tricked, haven’t I?
We were never really following Jake at all, were we?
Like an idiot, I’ve followed a Nyxt into the woods.
So I run.
*
I plunge into the undergrowth.
If I’d headed down the path, the dog would have been on top of me in a matter of seconds.
This way, I might get to live for a few terrifying minutes.
I haven’t got time to look over my shoulder and check if it’s following me.
I know it will be.
Yep; I hear it crashing through the bushes and branches behind me.
I’m trying that trick where you grab hold of any long branches and let them swing back like long whips.
Yeah, that will really hold back a Hell Hound.
I break through the last of the clump of bushes, coming out into a small clearing, looking about me for any tree I can quickly scamper up.
Whuumpphhh!
The dog’s leapt on to my back.
It’s like being hit from behind by a gigantic sack of coal.
I’m sent rolling across the ground.
I spin around, hoping I can get to see how far I’ve fallen away from the dog.
The dog jumps on me once more, straddling me with its legs, its slavering maw inches from my face.
‘We need to talk,’ the dog says.
*
Chapter 21
‘Nyxt, right?’ I say, at last recognising the dreadful stench of a dead, decaying body.
The dog moves back to let me get to my feet once more.
‘Yes; but I don’t intend you any harm, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
The dog’s voice is a harsh, tortured growl.
I dust myself down.
‘Why me? Why do you need to talk to me?’
‘A few of us have sensed something odd about you; we’d like to know where you stand.’
‘Where I stand?’
‘For the Nyxt? Or for the living?’
It’s one of those questions that you can guess what your answer should be, right?
Even if you don’t quite understand the question itself.
‘The Nyxt, of course.’
‘Then why are you still with the living? We draw closer to war every day.’
This has got to be something to do with this Half-Life thing, yeah?
Neither dead nor alive, yet both at the same time, sort of thing.
He’d only be asking me a question like this, like I had a choice between which side I chose, if – like Franky – he thought I was Half-Life.
‘The Half-Life announce their decisions whenever it’s convenient for them, not everyone else.’
The dog nods, like this is a considered answer, as opposed to something I’d quickly cobbled together in the hope it helps get me out of here alive.
‘Still,’ he growls suspiciously, ‘you ran from me?’
He says it like the Phantom of the Opera would say it, like it’s a big surprise to him.
‘I didn’t want to reveal myself just yet,’ I say sagely.
He nods again.
Phew!
There’s a fluttering of leaves and branches.
The girl I’d been following steps out into the clearing.
‘When I last saw this Jake, there was something…other following him.’
She’s talking to the dog, not me. Even so, I’m the one who replies, asking her a question.
‘Other? What do you mean by other?’
‘They were trying to look like us – but they weren’t Nyxt.’
I turn to the dog.
‘We have to help him.’
The dog stares at me quizzically.
‘Why? Why would you want to help the living, if you say you have chosen the Nyxt as your allies?’
Woahah, think quickly, quickly girl!
‘If they’re trying to look like Nyxt, the Nyxt will get the blame.’
Now if he’s working for one of the factions who are actually wanting war, then I’ve just ensured I’m dog meat, right?
*
Chapter 22
We’re running as fast as I can.
The dog could easily bound ahead of us.
Of course, the girl runs like she’s only as heavy as the the light and shadow she’s made up of.
Unfortunately, although the dog’s massive, he’s not exactly gigantic, so I couldn’t hitch a ride on him like you tend to see in the movies.
‘Stretch yourself ahead, Half-Life!’ the dog says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world to do.
‘And reveal myself to this Jake?’ I reply breathlessly.
The dog nods, I think. It’s hard to tell, as his head bobs up and down as he runs anyway.
‘Run on ahead; help him!’
I say it forcibly, like it’s a command.
The two rush on ahead.
Wait, wait, I think as they swiftly leave me behind.
I don’t know where he lives!
*
I continue running anyway.
My feet are sore.
My legs hurt.
My heart feels like it wants to jump out of my chest.
Then I hear the frenzied growling of the dog, echoing around the walls of an alleyway just ahead of me.
As I turn the corner, I get a glimpse of what could have happened to me back in the woods.
A man is crazily wheeling around, uselessly flailing out with his arms at the massive beast clinging to his upper torso. The dog’s huge jaws are riving piece after bloodied piece from the man’s arms.
Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have been able to even stand, let alone move around with the enormous weight of the dog hanging down on me. The man must be ridiculously strong.
Amazingly hardened too.
As more and more of his arms end up as bloody pieces of meat on the floor, he doesn’t scream or even cry out in anger.
Another piece flies through the air.
It lands by a darkened figure lying splayed across the floor.
I gasp, clutching my throat in horror.
Jake?
No no; the figure’s too big.
He’s also wearing an old coat and hat similar to the one worn by the man the dog is now successfully forcing to the floor.
I look around.
Jake, where’s Jake?
It’s the girl I see first, over by the wall. Leaning over a slim, limp body.
Like Mary; this is just how it happened to Mary.
I rush over to them.
‘Is he…?
’
‘With us now?’ The girl shakes her head. ‘No, he’s still on the side of the living.’
She points to a large bruise on his forehead.
‘Knocked out. Probably put up a fight.’
With a nod of her head and a wave of an arm she indicates more bodies lying around us.
They’re all the same kind of characters.
Large, overly tall, and wearing old coats and hats.
Much as the garbage guys who had attacked Mary had been.
Leaning across the rubble and garbage, I reach out for the hand of one of the bodies.
It comes away from his arm.
Chunks of meat fall out of the coat’s arms.
This guy’s aren’t made of garbage; they’re made from lumps of butcher’s meat.
*
‘They’re nothing but chunks of meat,’ I say in bewilderment to the dog as I show him what he’s been fighting.
‘What was making them move? What was keeping them alive?’ the dog asks.
‘Whatever it was, it obviously worked in giving the impression that one of our factions was responsible for the murders,’ the girl says bitterly.
‘Hmn, it doesn’t end the chances of all this ending in war,’ the dog replies. ‘We still don’t know who’s responsible.’
I’d moved on to studying what passed for the figure’s head. It was odd, the way pieces of ham, bacon and sausage had been used to give the impression of a face.
‘Why go to all this detail?’ I say. ‘Why make up a face when you can bring huge chunks of meat to life?’
‘To pass off the figure as one of us – as one of the Nyxt – it would need some idea of a face.’
The girl looks up at me.
Yes, she has a hazy face – my own face, more or less.
But it disappears if she turns side-on to me.
And that time Andrew had appeared in Franky’s apartment, his face only appeared as such when I caught him at the same angle as when I’d first mistaken the shadows falling around the curtain as a figure.
I take another look at the face made up of butcher’s cuts.
The mouth, in particular, is well formed.
There’s not just lips. There’s even a mouth-like hole beyond them.
And is that a–
It’s an awful sensation, putting my fingers between these pieces of cold meat. But it’s the only way to check if I’ve seen what I think I’ve seen,
Yes; it’s a tongue!
‘Why have a mouth and tongue?’ I say.
The two Nyxt swap intrigued glances.
I move the slice of folded ham that serves as the tongue.
There’s something there, beneath it, like a thin white stick.
I pull what I thought was the white stick out, realising even as it squeezes flat between my fingers that it’s actually a roll of paper.
‘Paper, a roll of paper,’ I say, unrolling it. ‘With some writing on it; in a language I don’t understand.’