The Collector Book One: Mana Leak

by Daniel I. Russell

  Joe stepped over the duvet spread on the floor, two dark stains ruining the fabric. He lingered at the doorway.

  “If anything happens—”

  “I’ll shout,” said Eleanor. “Joseph?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful down there.”

  He managed a nervous smile.

  “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  4.

  Occasionally Joe stopped at shadows on the landing, seeing something creeping towards him across the carpet or scuttling across the ceiling. He pressed on, heart in his throat.

  He arrived at the top of the stairs. The black blood on his hand and arm was drying into an itchy second skin. He flexed his fingers. Some of it flaked off.

  More knocks, crashes, and worst of all, more chirping by the spider-like creatures, sounded from beyond the hall.

  Joe swallowed and winced as the first step creaked under his foot.

  The sounds of destruction below continued.

  He tiptoed down the next few steps and crouched halfway down the stairway. Through the slats beneath the banister, he gazed into the hallway.

  It appeared undisturbed: the front door closed and secure, the grandfather clock continuing its sullen tick-tock.

  The source of the noise appeared to be the living room. The door stood open a crack, allowing Joe a narrow view of the darkness inside.

  Another loud smash, like shattering glass, followed by a chorus of chirps and clicks, and Joe nearly bolted back up the stairs. He tried to steady his trembling limbs, wrapping his arms around his chest in a self-embrace.

  The door to the living room swayed slightly.

  5.

  “We can get to the front door,” Joe said, entering his grandmother’s bedroom, “but I think there are more of those things in the living room.”

  Eleanor had dressed in his absence in a grey skirt, green pullover and sandals. She even had a string of pearls around her neck. If not for the tear-streaked face and wild hair, she looked ready for a day trip.

  “There must be a better way out,” she muttered.

  “Unless you want to jump out of a window, this is our best bet. The phone’s out of the question too, being in the living room.”

  “What about the back door?”

  “The kitchen could be swarming with them,” said Joe. “It’s a big risk when we know the hall is clear. Plus, we might get stuck in the back garden. At least going through the front will give us a clear run onto the street.”

  Eleanor stared at him.

  “Shouldn’t you get dressed first?”

  “There’s no time.”

  As if to confirm, another crash exploded from downstairs.

  “More of those things could venture up the stairs any minute,” said Joe. “We have to go now.”

  Eleanor nodded and stood, side-stepping around one of the curled bodies on the floor.

  He led her out the room and along the landing. Following a ripping sound from below, he snuck on, unwilling to lose more time within the house.

  They reached the stairs without incident. Eleanor trembled again. The sounds of destruction were clearer. Joe grabbed her shoulder.

  “Look,” he whispered and pointed to the front door down the stairs. “It’s still clear. We’ll go together.”

  Keeping an eye on the door to the living room, Joe began his descent, holding his grandmother by the hand. An encouraging tug broke through her fear and got her moving. She stared at her feet, concentrating on each step.

  The din from inside the living room had intensified; tearing and the clicking of claws joining the music of carnage. Joe guessed there’d be nothing left after the creatures had finished, the furniture, books and television all torn to pieces.

  They arrived in the hallway, stepping off the last step and onto the Oriental rug.

  Joe pointed down the hall to the front door. He leaned in and whispered in his grandmother’s ear. “Unlock it. I’ll keep watch.”

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

  “Go. Please,” he mouthed.

  She nodded and shuffled to the door past the grandfather clock. Her knees shook so much, Joe feared she wouldn’t make it. At the door she worked at pulling the chain loose. She froze as the lock clicked open.

  Joe shot a glance towards the living room. The loud clack! hadn’t alerted the creatures.

  Eleanor unlatched the door and opened it. Night air blew inside. Penny Crescent lay beyond the garden, silent and empty.

  She turned and gasped.

  Joe’s muscles tightened as his grandmother’s stare pointed directly above him. He lifted his head, gazing at the ceiling.

  The creature glared down at him, its legs stuck to the plaster, suspending it upside down. It dropped, landing on Joe’s shoulder.

  Eleanor screamed.

  He heard the claws snap shut, close to his ear. With a yelp of panic he grabbed at the thing, snatching a couple of its long legs. He swung the creature away, throwing it down the hall towards the kitchen.

  The living room door smashed open.

  “Get out!” he screamed.

  “Joseph?”

  “They’re coming! Run!”

  He bolted for the door as twitching darkness poured out of the room like a living black river. Dozens of the creatures ran through the doorway, some scuttling along the walls, others dashing across the ceiling.

  Joe reached out and toppled the grandfather clock. It fell behind him, lying across the hall.

  The advancing horde flowed over this slight obstacle with ease.

  Running into her, he nearly knocked Eleanor over. Quickly scooping up her thin frame, he carried her over his shoulder. He burst out of the house and fled across the porch.

  He jumped the few steps down onto the garden and sprinted across the lawn, ears full of his grandmother’s cries and the furious chirping of their pursuers.

  Instinct led him to the car, but realising the keys were still in the house he veered to the right, his bare feet slapping the cold surface of the road.

  “Joseph,” shouted Eleanor, her voice distorted as she bounced around on his shoulder. “Behind you!”

  He skidded to a halt and glared back towards the house.

  Standing on the lawn, the man in black grinned. He held out his arms like a messiah. More and more of the creatures scurried outside. They congregated around his feet.

  The small beasts covered the front of the house, all the single eyeballs studying Joe and Eleanor.

  “There…there’s hundreds of them…” he gasped.

  The thin man walked towards them, his loyal followers forming a black tide behind, keeping up with his strides.

  “Put me down, Joseph.”

  Joe shook his head.

  “No…no, I can’t. So many…”

  “Joseph,” she said a little more firmly. “Put me down!”

  He bent over, lowering Eleanor onto her feet.

  The man stepped out of the garden and onto the street. The creatures covered everything behind him. Even Joe’s car lay hidden beneath a mass of twitching bodies.

  “Dear, dear Mrs McGuire. We meet once more…” exclaimed the man, stopping in the middle of the road. He dipped his bowler hat. “One requests your company to discuss a very serious matter. May we?”

  He held out his hand.

  Eleanor stayed rooted to the spot.

  The man sneered.

  “Still holding out, are we? Very well. Maybe more persuasive means are in order…”

  The shadows flurried around him.

  “Murderer!” screamed a voice from further up the street. “You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you!”

  “For God’s sake, Frank. Get him back inside.”

  The man in black stopped, staring past Eleanor and Joe.

  The front door of the Harper house stood open, spilling light across the garden. A lean figure marched out, fists clenched at his sides.

  “I’ll fucking kill you…”
>
  “Jake! No!”

  The hulking figure of Frank ran up behind the boy, tackling him around the waist.

  “Get off me,” Jake yelled. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

  He kicked and punched and screamed, but Frank held on, dragging him back towards the house.

  The man tilted his bowler hat and smiled, his attention returned to Eleanor.

  “Mrs McGuire, let me introduce myself once more. I am The Collector, and we have business to attend to…”

  The creatures chirped and clacked their claws, growing restless.

  Eleanor stepped backwards.

  The Collector glowered.

  “Unless you want your grandson ripped to pieces by my Prowlers right in front of you, you will immediately cease this cat and mouse game and tell me what I want to know!”

  “Eleanor,” called a female voice behind them. “Get inside. Both of you!”

  Anne stood on the doorstep, frantically waving her arms.

  “I think we should do as she says,” Joe said.

  Eleanor nodded.

  “No,” said The Collector. “This ends now!”

  Joe picked up his grandmother again in a fireman’s lift and headed for the relative safety of the Harper house.

  “No,” shouted The Collector. “You get back here right now!”

  Joe reached the open front door, and Anne helped Eleanor inside. Jake still screamed somewhere in the house over crying, so much crying…

  Joe gazed back down the street, expecting the tidal wave of scuttling monsters to sweep down the road, but Penny Crescent was deserted. The Collector and his army had gone.

  With a shaking hand, he closed the door.

  Love Thy Neighbour

  1.

  Pandemonium had moved into the Harper household.

  Anne guided them down the hall and past the living room. Inside, Jenny Dean sat hunched in the corner, taking up the better part of a small sofa, dressed in a baggy nightgown. It clung to her sides, stomach and hanging breasts, soaked in blood. Deep scarlet stains covered her face and arms. She stared at the wall in front of her, lips trembling. Surrounded by streaks of blood, the stark whites of her eyes stood out.

  Jake, similarly decorated in red, sat in a sodden black T-shirt and jeans, as though he’d taken a shower in an abattoir mid-slaughter. He still kicked and thrashed with an angry Frank, who pinned the boy against the wall, forearm across his throat.

  “Get off me! Get the fuck off me!”

  “Listen to me, you little shit,” Frank spat in his face. “You go out there and he’ll kill you too. Now settle down before I save him the bother.”

  Anne turned away from the scene. “Eleanor, are you okay?” she asked.

  “I…I’m coping. I don’t think it’s all registered yet. One minute I’m tucked up in bed, the next…”

  “I know, I know,” agreed Anne. “It’s utter chaos. We tried to phone the police as soon as we knew, but the lines are down.”

  “Knew what, exactly?” interrupted Joe.

  Anne stared at him for a moment before lowering her eyes to the floor. “You don’t know about Adam?”

  Eleanor and Joe shook their heads.

  “They saw it happen. The man came and…and…the blood…”

  “You mean the blood on Jenny is…?”

  Anne nodded. “The same happened to our dog, they were…butchered.”

  She glanced to her side and watched Jenny sway back and forth, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  “How did this happen? Was it the creatures?” demanded Joe.

  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t seen anything unusual, well, apart from our visitor earlier. Frank thinks he has something to do with this.”

  “What did he look like?” asked Joe.

  “Black suit, bowler hat, red hair?” said Eleanor.

  Anne nodded.

  “It’s him,” said Eleanor. “It’s him that’s responsible for all this. The Collector.”

  “The Deans seem to think so too,” said Anne. “We don’t know for sure…” She swallowed. “We don’t know for sure what killed our dog, but Jenny said the man was there when Adam…when Adam…”

  She shook her head.

  Jenny rocked to and fro. Jake had calmed slightly, no longer shouting or putting up a real fight, but still squirming.

  “What exactly did happen to Adam?” Joe asked.

  “We didn’t believe it at first. The things they babbled on about when they came in…but then, look at them.”

  Jenny continued to mutter to herself, the drying blood staining the sofa brown.

  “They said that he - the red haired man - came to their house and brought some kind of…well…a walking blender the way they described it. It killed Adam and then went for Jenny.”

  “My God,” said Eleanor.

  “Then they destroyed it and escaped. Crazy, isn’t it?”

  Joe and Eleanor glanced at each other.

  “I mean, obviously they’re in shock,” Anne continued, “and it might take a while to get the truth from them, but this is complete nonsense!”

  “Not after what we’ve just been through,” said Joe.

  Anne glanced down at the thick patches of black slime all over his body, paying close attention to the coating on his right fist.

  “I was going to ask,” she said. “Did you strike oil or something?”

  “Didn’t you see what was outside just then? When you called us?”

  Anne shrugged. “It’s dark. I saw you two stood out in the street but I couldn’t see much further. Why? What was there?”

  Joe shook his head. “Never mind. Can we sit down somewhere please?”

  “You’d better go into the kitchen. There’s a pot of coffee brewed if you want any. It was the first thing Frank made me do. If you want anything, I’ll be upstairs with the kids. They’re very upset with all this commotion and keep saying there’s an old man at the window. Even now they’re trying to wind each other up. I don’t want to leave them alone for too long. I’ll get you some clean clothes too.”

  Joe nodded and led his grandmother down the hall, leaving weeping and threats in the living room. They found the kitchen easily; the house had an identical layout to their own.

  Anne quickly headed upstairs.

  2.

  Joe washed at the kitchen sink using an old dishcloth to dry, and sat at the round dining table in silence for a while, glad for the moment of privacy with his grandmother. The coffee was hot and tasted expensive, but did little to calm the nerves.

  Draining his mug, Joe stood from the table and closed the blinds over the window. The darkness of the garden beyond the glass unnerved him. He expected to see a wall of overgrown eyeballs staring back. Feeling slightly more comfortable, he returned to his seat, groaning as he lowered himself onto the hard wood.

  “I think Anne’s dealing with all this very well,” said Eleanor as she refilled his mug with steaming black coffee.

  “Only because she hasn’t seen anything yet. I don’t think she believes what the Deans told her.”

  “Oh, the Deans…” She sighed. “That poor boy. I know he had his faults, but this is terrible! And for them to witness it…”

  “Do you believe them? That some kind of walking machine killed him?”

  “Don’t you? After what happened to us? Who knows what tricks that man has up his sleeve?”

  They peered into their drinks for a little while, listening to the children crying upstairs.

  Joe slammed his fist on the table, nearly spilling his coffee and startling Eleanor. “We should be doing something. That madman’s roaming the street and what are we doing? Playing good neighbours!”

  “What do you expect us to do, Joseph? Anne said the phones are down and like you said, that madman’s roaming the street, but with God knows what at his command. Do you want us to venture out and see what surprises he has in store?”

  Joe covered his face and shook his head. />
  “No, I didn’t think so,” she said.

  “But we’re trapped in here.”

  “That depends on your position, Joseph. You can look at it that way, but I see it as being safe. At least for the time being.”

  “But those things… He could have us surrounded.”

  “And if they do try and get in, we’ll be ready this time. We’re not alone either. They haven’t tried to get in yet, have they?”

  Joe realised they’d been in the Harper house for nearly twenty minutes now without incident. Maybe they were safe in here with the others.

  “No matter what he tries,” Eleanor continued, “it’s us that have the upper hand.”

  “How come? Hundreds of speedy little killers, deadly machines? I know which side I’d rather be on.”

  “But he wants something from us: the mana, whatever that is. If he could just take it, I think he would have by now. Otherwise, why stick around? He thinks we know where it is.”

  “Do we?”

  “No…not at the moment, but I’m sure the answer will reveal itself in time. We don’t even know what it is, but as long as he thinks we do, he won’t risk losing that information.”

  Joe sniffed. “Try telling that to Adam Dean.”

  “Yes, well,” said Eleanor, cupping her mug with both hands, “maybe he did that to show us he means business.”

  “He did that already.”

  “I think we should speak to the others, see what they know about this man, if that’s what he is.”

  Joe scratched his head.

  “I don’t think Jenny is capable of talking sense anymore. I mean, did you see her? It’s like she’s turned her mind off or something.”

  Both fell quiet as Frank entered the room. Flakes of dry blood clung to his hands, arms and shirt from handling Jake. He clutched a bundle of clothes, apparently not bothered about getting them dirty. He dumped them on the table in front of Joe.

  “Anne told me to give these to you,” he said, heading for the cupboard containing the mugs. “Can’t have you wandering around my house almost naked.”

  “Erm…thank you,” said Joe, standing up and beginning to dress.

  “How are they?” asked Eleanor.

  “Fine.”