The Collector Book One: Mana Leak

by Daniel I. Russell

They didn’t even know I was in the garden, he thought, thinking back to Frank.

  He smiled. What had been a mere reconnaissance had turned into an opportunity; a chance to plant the seeds of doubt into Frank Harper’s mind. The Collector intended those seeds to take root on hate, to grow with jealousy and paranoia and to hopefully flower into violence and murder. Frank would be another of his agents, unknowingly of course. If he took out a major piece of the game, the ever-valiant Joe McGuire, what would that leave?

  Women, children and a fragile mind, easy as pie.

  The Collector frowned.

  Yet a woman and her children destroyed my Megathon, damn them!

  The smile fell from his face. The Collector knew a heap of trouble awaited his return to the City. He’d been given a Megathon as a favour, and he would have to inform the Founders of its destruction; a moment he dreaded.

  The Collector glanced down as his trouser leg was tugged.

  Montgomery had been feasting on Prowlers to pass the time and to temporarily ease his terrible hunger. The disappointment of being denied the boy seemed to have lifted. Black smudges of Prowler blood were dabbed across its pale skin, around the mouths The Collector knew lay beneath the surface.

  “Had your fill?” he asked the beast.

  It rubbed up against his leg, black eyes on the silent house down the street.

  “Soon, Montgomery…very soon…”

  The smile returned to his face, white teeth pressing together. He almost tasted this forsaken assignment reaching its end.

  This is what happens when people are involved with the mana, he thought, they become attached, unwilling to let go.

  He straightened and headed down the road, passing the groups of waiting Prowlers. His generals had done well. The mindless mob was organised, the units awaiting his command. The Collector himself had inspected the pathetic barricade the occupants of the house had built. The wood might hold, but not for long. This frustrating job would finally be over, and the end would justify the means.

  A little bloodletting never hurt anyone, he thought.

  He walked a little further, scrutinizing his army. They watched, eyeballs following as he passed. Those closest to him scuttled back as he suddenly stopped, his head snapping in the direction of the house.

  Something was happening. It felt like a tiny niggle in his head, the feeling that something had been forgotten and demanded attention. His nerves tingled and his hair quivered with static.

  He looked at the house.

  It’s there, he thought. It’s shown itself.

  The Collector licked his thin lips in anticipation, gazing at the house as a child would look upon a birthday present. It lay in his hands; all he had to do was unwrap it.

  Almost shaking with excitement, he turned to the Prowlers.

  The Swarming of Harper House

  1.

  Joe reached down, grabbed Frank by the armpits, then pulled him to his feet with Jake’s help. Frank’s skin felt stiff and ice cold.

  “Jeez, Frank. Are you okay?”

  Frank nodded, or maybe just shivered. He swept a hand down his face, clearing his eyelashes and lips of the particles of frost. His cheeks were flushed a deep red.

  “Think you can stand on your own?” Jake asked, keeping a firm grip on Frank’s other arm.

  He nodded again.

  Joe felt the room starting to warm up. The blue fire had sapped the kitchen of its heat and with the flames gone, it was returning to normal. The room seemed dark after such a blinding and brilliant light. Joe noticed the pans of water, blocks of ice moments ago, had begun to thaw: the heat of the cooker hobs was now unhindered.

  “Is…is it gone?” asked Anne.

  “I think so,” said Joe. He left Frank leaning on the wall, trying to rub some more warmth into his arms, and stepped into the area where the fire had faded away. He prodded the floor with his foot and stamped it down. The linoleum seemed solid enough beneath the springy sole of his trainer. “It’s like it was never here. There isn’t even a smell of burning.”

  He crouched down and stroked the floor.

  “Normal, not even cold.”

  Jenny wailed and slid down the wall, resting in a heap next to the door. Eleanor quickly joined her side with Jake.

  “Jenny? What is it?”

  “Mum?”

  She sobbed and hid her face in her hands. Her long cries made Joe shudder.

  “What the hell’s wrong with her now?” barked Frank. More colour had returned to his face and he stood up unaided. “She’s going to upset my kids.”

  “This,” she screamed from behind her trembling hands. “All this!”

  “Mum,” said Jake quietly. He stroked her head. “It’s okay. The fire’s gone and everything’s back to normal.”

  “Normal? You call this normal?”

  “Get her back upstairs, she needs a rest,” said Frank.

  “I know what I need.” She glared at him with glassy eyes. “I need my boy back! I need to get out of here. I need…I need…”

  She collapsed back into despair, her words masked by wet snorts and whimpers.

  “For God’s sake,” muttered Frank.

  Eleanor reached out and took Jenny’s hand.

  “Calm down, Jenny, for all of us. Things will be better come the daytime, I promise.”

  Jenny continued to babble and weep.

  Bronwyn, still cradled in her mother’s arms, started to cry.

  “Get her back upstairs,” Frank ordered, jabbing a finger in Jenny’s direction.

  “Only when she’s good and ready,” replied Eleanor.

  “Then get the kids out of here. They shouldn’t have to see this; they’ve been through enough already. Anne, take them upstairs.”

  Anne looked up, her eyes shimmering.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  She swallowed.

  “I think we should all stay together. I can’t believe you can be so…so…especially after what we all just saw.”

  Frank slammed his fist down on the work surface.

  “A fire was all I saw, nothing else!”

  Joe held his hands up.

  “I think we should all just calm down. Arguing isn’t going to solve anything. Why don’t we all go into the living room, sit down and discuss our options?”

  “All you ever want to do is talk, McGuire,” Frank snapped. “Anne, get the kids upstairs.”

  “No! I told you…”

  “Can you all shut the fuck up?” Jake shouted. “My mum’s upset and this ain’t helping!”

  “She’s upsetting my kids!”

  “We need to talk about what just happened here,” pressed Joe.

  “I can’t take this!” screamed Jenny. “Shut up! Shut up!”

  She snatched her hand back from Eleanor and covered her ears.

  The children both started to bawl and hug Anne tightly.

  “This is what he wants,” said Eleanor, struggling over all the noise. “If we fight amongst ourselves, he’s already won.”

  A knock pounded the front door, and they all snapped to silence.

  2.

  “Frank,” shouted Anne. “Whatever you’re thinking-”

  “Just stay back there.” He approached the front door.

  The rest of them gathered at the end of the hall, watching him.

  “Don’t open the door, Daddy,” pleaded Bronwyn. Her cries had subsided, yet her cheeks were still streaked with tears.

  “I’m not going to open it, honey,” he said, the sharp edge vanishing from his voice. “I’m just going to have a look.”

  “You really don’t have to do this,” said Anne.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” Frank hissed. “Well, do you? I’m not going to open the damn door, okay? But we can’t bury our heads in the sand and ignore it like you want to do. The police could be out there.”

  He turned and took another couple of steps towards the door.

  “It’s him,” w
hined Jenny. “It’s him it’s him it’s him…”

  Jake slipped an arm around her, and she instantly fell quiet.

  Frank reached the door.

  “Are they still there?” asked Anne.

  “I don’t know,” Frank hissed, struggling to keep his voice down.

  Joe squeezed Anne’s shoulder. “Let him listen.”

  Yeah, listen to lover boy, Frank thought.

  He pressed an ear to the door and after a few seconds, shook his head.

  “Nothing,” he whispered.

  The group remained huddled in the corner, all eyes locked on Frank.

  He crouched and very slowly lifted the metal flap that covered the letter box. Leaning forward, he peeked through the narrow slot, eyes scanning the street.

  “I don’t believe it…”

  “What?” said Joe. “What’s wrong?”

  Frank turned to them and smiled.

  “They’re…gone.”

  The group stayed quiet, as if refusing to believe the good news. A few seconds passed.

  “You’re serious?” asked Anne.

  “Deadly. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

  “It’s nearly dawn,” said Jake. “I knew the daylight would get rid of things. I fucking knew it!”

  “They’re…gone?” asked Jenny, dazed from all her crying.

  “I said things would be fine,” said Eleanor, putting a hand on Jenny’s arm.

  Thunk-thunk!

  Frank jumped back as the door shook. “Jesus Christ!”

  Everyone froze, listening to the echoes of the knock die away.

  “I thought you said there was nothing out there,” said Anne.

  “There wasn’t!”

  “Well something’s out there now,” said Joe. “I think you should get away from the door.”

  “In a minute,” growled Frank, leaning forwards again. “It could still be help.”

  “I don’t think-”

  Frank raised a hand, silencing Joe.

  “Be quiet! I can hear something.”

  They waited.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “There’s something on the other side. I can hear it.”

  A slender black claw ripped through the wood, inches before Frank’s nose. It wriggled back and forth, struggling to work itself free.

  The window in the living room shattered.

  3.

  Frank fell away from the door.

  The claw slid back out, leaving a hole the size of a fifty pence piece.

  Joe broke free of the stunned group and ran past Frank into the living room.

  The noise was deafening. The door nailed against the window shook with thuds and bangs.

  Joe saw with horror that a few more claws had punched through.

  “Quickly,” he shouted, running over to the barricade. “Someone get in here!”

  Frank fell in through the door. He looked at the damaged barricade behind Joe.

  “Oh shit…”

  He rushed over and joined Joe at pushing against the wood. Rapid blows thundered against the other side.

  “Anne,” Frank roared.

  She appeared in the doorway.

  “This won’t hold. Get the hammer and nails from the kitchen. We need to secure it!”

  “I can’t,” she said, with a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not leaving the children.”

  “Damn it,” Frank cried. “Then get someone else to do it. If we don’t nail this up more they’ll get in!”

  “Tell Jake,” shouted Joe, moving his hand sharply as another long, black claw burst through. “His mother will be safe with you.”

  Anne nodded and dashed back into the hall.

  “I thought you said they’d gone,” Joe shouted at Frank, straining to push the door against the onslaught.

  “They were! I didn’t see a single one.”

  “They must have been on the house, waiting. The bastards were here all along!”

  He grabbed a protruding claw, squeezing his hand tightly to keep it closed. With a quick tug, he pulled it free. It fell loose with a sickening wet snap and black blood sprayed from the hole. He threw the twitching claw on the carpet and pushed harder against the door.

  “Jake had better get in here quick. This thing won’t hold for much longer!”

  4.

  Jake watched his mother vanish upstairs, followed by Eleanor.

  He swallowed.

  “I’ll do it,” he told a frantic Anne. “Just make sure you look after my mum.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, already heading for the stairs. “Just get the hammer and nails. They’re by the window. And hurry!”

  She turned and ran up the stairs, two steps at a time.

  Jake dashed to the kitchen.

  Any sign of the blue fire had gone. The room was pleasantly warm, and the pans of water on the cooker boiled again. Columns of steam billowed up to the ceiling.

  His mind racing, Jake ran over to the worktop in front of the sink and looked through the assortment of kitchenware Anne had laid out earlier.

  “Come on,” he yelled, struggling to spot the hammer. He swept an arm across the work surface, knocking some of the knives to the floor.

  He spied the silver head of the hammer lying next to the wall and grabbed the rubber handle.

  “Yes,” he cried.

  The kitchen window exploded in a shower of broken glass, quickly followed by blows against the nailed-up dining table.

  Jake fell to the floor, covering his head from the falling rain of glass.

  “Guys,” he shouted.

  With the hammer still clutched in his hand, he jumped to his feet and turned to face the window.

  The attacking Prowlers stabbed through the wood. The table top shook violently.

  Jake ran to the doorway.

  “They’re getting in,” he cried.

  He bolted back inside and skidded to a halt.

  “No!”

  The table toppled down, hitting the worktop beneath with a crash. It flipped forwards, pushed by the swelling darkness behind it that spread across the walls and ceiling towards Jake.

  “They’re in!” he screamed. “They’ve got in!”

  5.

  Anne closed the door behind her.

  The kids sat on the bed holding hands, something which comforted and disturbed her in the same instance. Once again, their situation hit home, and she swallowed down the contents of her stomach.

  Jenny collapsed on the mattress on the floor, her knees clutched against her chest. Her face drained of colour, and she stared at the door, swaying.

  Eleanor stood by the window, her face solemn.

  “What do you think we should do now?” she asked Anne.

  “Nothing.” Anne swallowed to moisten her suddenly parched throat. “Not unless we have to. They did a good job of boarding up the windows. We just have to pray it all holds.”

  “I don’t think praying will do any good,” sighed Eleanor. “There isn’t anyone to hear us.”

  Anne released a nervous laugh.

  “Not a comforting thought. We need all the help we can get right now.”

  “If there is a God,” said Eleanor quietly, “he wouldn’t allow this to happen.”

  “Bad things happen all the time; it doesn’t mean we’re all forsaken. Besides, if demons exist, why not angels?”

  Anne closed her eyes as a series of crashes and shouts rang out below them.

  Eleanor turned towards the window. A thin sliver of light shone from beneath the nailed-up wood.

  “You have any idea what we’re up against? Any real idea?” asked Anne.

  “A few. I need more time to think.” She turned back to Anne. “I hope we get that time.”

  “Eleanor,” Anne whispered, “Keep still. Don’t move…”

  A shadow moved across the window. The narrow strip of light vanished.

  “There’s something at the window outside.”

  Eleanor closed her eyes.

&n
bsp; From the other side of the glass, they heard a noise: a sniffing sound.

  “What is it?” hissed Eleanor.

  “I can’t see. It’s big; it might be that thing again.”

  Charlie gasped.

  “It’s okay, hon,” she whispered. “It doesn’t know we’re here. Just don’t make a sound.”

  With a growl, the creature moved on across the wall. The strip of light appeared again.

  “It’s gone,” said Anne. “But we should still keep quiet.”

  “We should get Joseph and Frank,” said Eleanor.

  “I think they have enough to deal with—”

  As if to confirm this, an almighty crash of a window shattering sounded downstairs.

  Anne gasped. “They’ve gotten into the house!”

  “They can’t,” said Eleanor, looking at the kids who gripped each other tightly. “You said they did a good job of boarding things up.”

  “I have to go and check,” said Anne. “Look after the children and close the door behind me.”

  “Is that wise?”

  Jenny pounced from the mattress, seizing Anne by the T-shirt. They both fell against the wall, Jenny’s weight pinning her back.

  “No no no,” she cried, shaking Anne, causing her head to bounce off the floral-papered wall. “Don’t open that door!”

  Eleanor ran up behind her and tried in vain to pull her away.

  Anne raised a quick hand and slapped Jenny hard across the face. The harsh smack echoed in the small bedroom.

  Jenny released her and, nursing her face, fell back, whimpering.

  “Your son is out there too!” Anne said, keeping her voice quiet, yet firm. “Your hysterics won’t help him or us.”

  Eleanor stepped forwards. “Anne, if you must go, let me guard the door. We’re all worried about them. We can hear you call if there’s trouble.”

  Anne nodded. “But the slightest thing and you close it. No matter what. My kids have to be my priority.”

  “Agreed.”

  Eleanor stepped around Jenny, who fell back on the mattress in tears, her left cheek glowing red.

  Anne grabbed the door handle.

  6.

  Jake threw down the hammer and grabbed one of the sturdy table legs which Joe had sawn off from the work tops. He gripped it like a baseball bat. The weight did little to comfort him.