The Collector Book One: Mana Leak

by Daniel I. Russell

  Left alone, Anne and Joe glanced around the bathroom once more, searching for the elusive Prowler.

  “I’m just happy no one got hurt,” said Anne, peering up with sparkling eyes. “Not one scratch.”

  “Let’s keep it that way,” said Joe.

  “I’ve sealed the hatch,” said Frank from the landing. “Would you like to come and check it?” Frank poked his head into the bathroom. He glared at Joe, then his wife. “Or are you two cosy in here?”

  “We were just checking if that thing was hidden in here somewhere. I hope it went back into the attic and outside,” said Anne. “Aren’t you supposed to be with the kids anyway?”

  “I can see them from here and his grandmother’s with them. They’re fine, both asleep.”

  “We’ve got to get them out and away,” said Anne. “Nowhere is safe around here with him and his creatures outside. What did we ever do to him? What does he want from us?”

  “My grandmother has a few ideas about that,” said Joe.

  11.

  The search for the Prowler lasted about an hour. Jenny watched over the sleeping children upstairs, something that had caused another argument between Frank and Anne.

  “I don’t want that lunatic looking after our children!”

  “She is not a lunatic. She’s just been through a lot, more than most of us because she lost her son. Besides, we need to find this thing if it’s still in the house!”

  Jake’s arrival in the room had ended the discussion. Frank knew they’d team up on him, and he couldn’t get his point across to a bunch of raving idiots. Hell, he’d tried all night.

  Reluctantly, he’d left the kids in the fragile care of Jenny Dean while the rest of them searched the house.

  They moved quietly, trying to catch the creature unawares by swinging cupboards open and pulling up furniture. With every minute that passed, Frank grew ever more confident the thing was long gone. It probably had scuttled back into the attic and gone out the way it came in. He conducted his search in a casual haze; floating through the task as if it was a dream. Frank knew he suffered from a massive hallucination. After securing the attic hatch, he’d changed into jeans and a black T-shirt. Anne had taken his Prowler-soiled clothes, shoved them in the washing machine and immediately started a cycle. The absurdity of the situation had rocked him to his foundations. The memory of Anne kneeling in Prowler bodies as she closed the machine door and added the washing powder brought on the giggles.

  Anne glanced up from the sofa. One half was covered in a blanket, masking the bloodstains from Jenny earlier.

  “Are you okay, Frank?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Ahem…yes. Why?”

  “I thought you said something.”

  “No, not me…”

  She cast him a concerned frown then returned her attention to her hands that nervously rubbed over each other in her lap.

  I’m watching you, Missy, Frank thought. If he touches you…

  He thought back to the kitchen, finding the Prowler about to slash through the back of McGuire’s leg.

  Should’ve let it, he thought with a smile, cut that bastard down to size, it would! But then, that would have denied me the pleasure…

  He giggled again and instantly clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the rest from escaping.

  Joe looked over. He met Frank’s intense glare and returned to the peephole. Eleanor sat beside him, watching through the other.

  “Anything happening out there?” asked Jake from the armchair. The boy had been crying in silence; two glistening tracks ran down his cheeks like the trails of a snail.

  Joe shook his head.

  “No. Nothing really. There’s been a few Prowlers go past, but not in the same size groups as before. I think we took a good chunk out of his army.”

  “We sure did,” agreed Jake, stroking the handle of his hammer.

  Maybe I’m not the crazy one, thought Frank. He fought the urge to laugh, knowing it would take a while to stop. Think about the kids. Think about them. Think about what McGuire has coming…

  The smile fell from his face and he studied the carpet between his feet.

  “No sign of him or his pet either,” Joe continued. “What the hell did he call it? Montgomery?”

  Eleanor nodded.

  “How can you call something like that Montgomery? How could you even give it a name?”

  “He’s a very strange man,” said Eleanor, now moving away from the window. “A very strange and powerful man. No matter what he brings here, it’s him we’re up against and him we must concentrate on. I think it’s time for a little house meeting…” She swallowed. “…while it’s quiet. Frank? Would you like to start?”

  Frank blinked, like a school child caught napping in class.

  “What?”

  “My goodness, Frank. Are you all right? You look very pale.”

  He huffed.

  “I am sick to death of people asking me if I’m okay. If I’m not okay, I’ll tell you!”

  “I was just concerned that…”

  “I’m fine,” Frank shouted. “I’m so fucking fine, it’s fucking unbelievable!”

  The others watched his tantrum, their mouths hanging open.

  Frank took a long breath in through his nose and blew out through his mouth.

  Relax, don’t do it…

  Don’t you fucking dare…

  “I’m fine, really,” he said calmly. “Now, Eleanor. What did you want to ask me?”

  “I…I just wanted to hear what you know about the man in the bowler hat,” she said, casting sideways glances to Joe. He patted her on the arm.

  “I don’t know much,” he said. “He came to the house and I asked him to leave.”

  “Yeah, and the rest,” said Anne quietly.

  “Okay. We might have had a slight argument outside.”

  “You head butted him, Frank,” said Anne. “It’s no wonder he’s angry.”

  Frank shrugged his shoulders.

  “That’s it, that’s all I know.”

  “You haven’t had any more contact with him?” asked Eleanor.

  Frank rubbed his head; another headache loomed on the horizon, an approaching breaker of pain.

  “No,” he said. “No, I haven’t.”

  “He said his name was Mr…erm…Blundsford,” said Jake. “We chased him on the bike for a laugh, you know. See Adam…” He swallowed and gripped the hammer tighter. “Ad liked chasing people on the bike. That’s when we knew something wasn’t right with him.”

  “Go on,” said Eleanor.

  “He…he got into Adam’s head, found out loads of stuff that only we knew. There was no other way he could have found out. It hurt Adam like hell, said it felt like a mental rape.”

  “Yes,” said Eleanor, pointing to her forehead. “Right here. I also experienced this…mind probing. Frank, did you feel anything in your head during your encounter? Did he know anything he shouldn’t have?”

  Frank stared at Anne.

  “Go on, dear,” she said.

  “No,” he said. “Nothing like that. I don’t believe a word of it! I’m now supposed to believe he’s psychic on top of everything else? This is impossible.”

  “Please calm down, Frank. We’re only brainstorming here,” said Eleanor. “Going back to what Jake said, he told me his name was Elliot Hearnsworth and he was a supernatural investigator, so he’s obviously lied to each one of us. He asked if any strange events had occurred close by. What did he want at your house, Jake?”

  He sighed.

  “I don’t know really. You should speak to my mum. He was going to help financially I think, but he wanted something in return.”

  “Did anything strange happen before that?”

  “Yeah, someone locked us in the wardrobe. We thought it was you,” he said, nodding at Joe.

  Joe smiled.

  “What about you, Anne?” asked Eleanor. “Anything strange happen here on the run up to all this?”
>
  Frank looked at his wife and saw she shook badly.

  “I…I didn’t want to say anything, I thought I was going crazy, but…” She wiped her eyes. “The other night, in the garden, I thought I saw…that I saw Katie.”

  “Anne,” Frank snapped. “Don’t you dare-”

  “It was her. I know it was.” Anne started to cry.

  “How dare you bring Katie into this madness!”

  “Did you see her, Frank?” said Eleanor.

  “Certainly not. And I don’t appreciate us discussing my daughter like a…like a goddamn ghost story.”

  “But that is exactly what I think this is,” replied Eleanor. “A ghost story. The spirits are walking among us, Frank.”

  He pointed a finger at her.

  “Just the thing I’d expect from an old witch like you,” he raged. “I think you’ve spent too much time with your spell books, woman!”

  Joe stepped in between them, holding his hands out.

  “Just hear her out, okay?”

  Anne continued to weep on the sofa while Jake, slumped in the chair, fidgeted with the hammer in silence.

  Frank snorted and leaned back against the wall.

  “I think we’ve all experienced something these last few days,” said Eleanor. “We’ve all felt something a little off, even before he showed up on the street. I know that I’ve seen things: my dead husband for one, and that blue fire. We all witnessed that.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from all except Frank, who stood with his arms tightly crossed across his chest.

  “And we all saw what was in that fire. The man in the bowler hat, this Collector, is after something he calls mana. He thinks we’re keeping it from him, which explains the persistent attacks. He’s trying to scare us enough to give it to him.”

  “Mana?” asked Anne. “What is mana? We don’t have any here, whatever it is.”

  “But you do, Anne. That’s the problem. After his visit, Joseph and I found a photograph in a book. It showed a figure with red hair, in a suit and a bowler hat, standing next to a blue fire.”

  “So you think the fire is the mana? That’s what he wants?” she asked.

  Eleanor sat on the sofa beside Anne, perching herself on the edge to avoid sitting back on the blanket.

  “I don’t know what it is, or where it came from, but yes, I think the fire is what he’s after.”

  “Then let’s give it to him,” said Frank from the back of the room. “If all this nonsense is true, let’s get it over with! Go out and give it to him.”

  Joe laughed, resulting in another glare from Frank.

  “And how do you suggest we do that, eh? We can’t exactly pick it up and carry it out. We don’t even know where it’s gone.”

  “There’s another issue,” said Eleanor. “Whatever this thing is, it has to be linked to the spirits of our loved ones. Could we hand that over to him?”

  She looked around at the others, who hung their heads in thought.

  “Then screw it,” decided Jake after a few seconds. “We carry on as before. We did a good job of taking him on, so why don’t we do it again? You said yourself we seriously cut the number of those things. He can’t send them in forever. Eventually, we’d win!”

  Joe nodded. “Yes, but we have to think in the long term. We can’t be trapped in here forever and we don’t know what other tricks he’s got up his sleeve.”

  “Then we wait till dawn! Someone will come.”

  “I don’t think that will do any good,” said Eleanor. “I think we should find out more before we make any decisions to tackle him directly. I think…I think we should talk to him.”

  “Are you insane?” shouted Frank. “After all he’s done? You want to talk to him?”

  “No way,” said Jake, shaking his head quickly from side to side. “No way, man. Not happening.”

  Joe sat on the arm of the sofa.

  “I agree with my grandmother,” he said quietly. “I believe that if he really wanted to kill us, he would have done so already. Talking to him might work. Anne…”

  She looked up with shimmering eyes.

  “Two against two. Looks like you have the deciding vote.”

  “Oh God…” She wiped her eyes.

  “Do the right thing, for the kids,” ordered Frank.

  “Whatever you think is right,” said Eleanor.

  Anne stood up. “We stand and fight. To go out there or allow him in here… I have Charlie and Bronwyn to think about.” Her shaking hands clenched. “While this house still stands, I will fight.”

  The lights flickered out, plunging the group into complete darkness.

  12.

  “They have spirit,” said The Collector, stroking Montgomery’s head. “On one hand, I appreciate such a trait, but on the other, it can get quite tiresome.”

  Montgomery grunted as one of its mouths coughed up a mangled Prowler leg.

  The Collector stood up and marched down the street. The creature loped along behind him.

  “Spirited indeed,” he continued. “Yet annoyingly so. I’ve never had so much defiance on a job, never! What a terrible inconvenience. I’ve half a mind to let them starve in there, but that simply won’t do. I am once again reminded that time is an issue…”

  He looked up at the sky, which had lightened slightly. Dawn was on the way.

  “The Founders will be concerned by now, and the less they interfere the better. It approaches the end game, Montgomery.”

  The Collector stopped outside the dark Harper house. He turned his back on it.

  “Glad to see our uninvited guest has made itself useful and taken out the power.” He smiled. “Time to lower morale further, I think.”

  He crouched and ran a long finger down the crack in the middle of the road, which vibrated and squirmed under his touch. Hooking his fingers inside, The Collector pulled, again spreading the crack out into a large hole, the tarmac folding beneath his touch like dough. The hole reached the size of a manhole cover, and he pulled back his hands and peered over the edge.

  The scents of the desert rose to meet him: the salt of the sand, the sun-bleached stone and the baking heat. He heard the machines of the city carried on the hot gust.

  “Come on now,” he said. “Up here.”

  Within, the shadows moved and rushed up to meet him, all eyes and twitching claws.

  13.

  “What the hell?” demanded Frank, groping in the sudden darkness.

  “Is everyone okay?” asked Joe’s disembodied voice.

  There was a murmur from everyone, signalling his or her presence. Following a click and sudden orange glow, everyone looked to the corner.

  Still sat in the chair and clutching the hammer, Jake grinned in the glimmering flame of a gas lighter. He’d turned the flame on full, and it reached three inches above the metal top.

  “And they say smoking is bad for you,” he said. “Ow!”

  The light blinked out.

  “You okay, Jake?” asked Joe.

  “Yeah, just burned my finger. This thing heats up real quick.”

  “Leave it off for now. Anne, where is your fuse box?”

  “In the hall,” said the deep voice of Frank. “Same as in your house. They’re all designed the same, you know.”

  “Thank you, Frank. Your knowledge is as helpful as always.” Joe waited for a response, but when none came, he addressed Jake. “Put the flame back on so I can see you.”

  Another click and Jake appeared again. The other occupants of the room appeared as their own ghosts in a faint golden glow, the dancing flame spreading their flickering shadows across the walls.

  “Good,” said Joe, approaching him and grabbing hold of his T-shirt. “I have you now. Turn it off, save it getting hot again.”

  Jake quickly obliged, plunging them all into darkness again.

  Anne cried out, and everyone talked at once, demanding what was going on.

  “Calm down,” shouted Eleanor over the ruckus. “It’s jus
t me! I grabbed her hand.”

  “Jesus Christ,” moaned Frank. “As if we aren’t all on edge enough…”

  “Jake,” said Joe, once everyone had calmed down, “think we can find our way into the hall?”

  “Yeah,” replied Jake. “You want the flame back on?”

  “We’ll feel our way, save burning your fingers.”

  “But what if…what if that thing is around?”

  Joe had completely forgotten about the missing Prowler. His mind had taken the easy route and believed it had gone.

  “Jeez, you’re right. Use it, but only in bursts.”

  “Christ,” said Anne. “The children are in the dark with that thing!”

  “They’re okay,” said Joe. “The door’s closed. We’ll get to them as soon as we sort out the fuses. I’m sure it’s just bad luck and one’s blown. It’s the last thing we all need. Come on, Jake.”

  He tugged on the teenager’s T-shirt and blinked at the sudden light as Jake used the lighter. They both rushed through the living room to the hall, Joe near enough dragging the boy, who held the bouncing lighter out in front of him.

  “Come on,” said Joe. “I think it must be near the front door.”

  The wide, shimmering circle of light glided down the wall.

  “I think it’s down near the skirting board,” said Jake. “Can you see it?”

  “Not yet,” said Joe. “Lower it more.”

  He watched the lighter sweep from side to side, showing only more cream wallpaper.

  “Go lower. That thing could be close,” said Joe. He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder into the total darkness of the hall. He imagined the Prowler sneaking towards them in silence, claws high, ready to strike.

  “Oh shit,” said Jake. “I think things have just got a hell of a lot worse.”

  Jake looked back to the golden glow cast by the lighter.

  At the base of the wall, the plastic fuse box had been ripped to pieces. Frayed wires hung limply from between large, splintered cracks. A small pile of debris, torn plastic, connections and tiny dials, sat on the carpet.

  “Ouch!” said Jake, the lighter guttering out in a flash.