by Jacob Rayne
‘I know. Thanks, Osmo.’
‘Did you find your family?’
Campbell’s downcast stare told him everything he needed to know.
‘I’m sorry, son. But at least no one else will have to go through this now.’
‘Yeah,’ Campbell said. Now that the ordeal was over, grief hit him like an iron bar. He sunk to his knees, sobbing.
‘Let’s get you out of here,’ Baz said.
‘It’ll get better, son,’ Osmo said, throwing his arm around Campbell’s shoulders and squeezing him in. ‘I promise you, one day this will all be behind you.’
Campbell nodded and let Osmo and Baz lead him off the farm to Baz’s waiting car.
Jones was sceptical when he first saw the blood-covered trio, but his doubts soon faded when Baz showed him the video he’d taken on his phone of Osmo dragging the monster round the field with the tractor.
‘What the hell was it?’ Jones asked.
‘Giant fucking bat,’ Osmo said.
‘Figures,’ Jones said. ‘Listen, Campbell, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, or to Osmo, but you do realise how crazy this all sounds.’
They both nodded.
‘We’re going to go up to that farm and have a good look around,’ Jones said. ‘Make sure everyone on their side is dead.’
‘You want to burn the fucking place down while you’re on,’ Baz cut in.
‘That too, once we’ve checked for any human survivors.’
‘There won’t be any,’ Osmo said. ‘Trust me on that.’
Osmo was right. They found only torn, mutilated bodies of animals and people. They also found the corpses of some strange, bat-like things the size of house cats. They didn’t know what to make of them, so they bagged them up and took them to show to Osmo.
‘Looks like the offspring of the thing that was in the barn,’ he said.
One of the tramps that they had in custody confirmed that this was the case. ‘The creature was trying to breed,’ he said. ‘It knew it was dying and was trying to ensure its race would carry on.’
The thought of more of the things running around made Campbell shudder. ‘We need to make sure the damn thing didn’t manage to breed,’ he said.
Jones and Osmo nodded in agreement. After a second, painstaking search of the barn they confirmed that there were no surviving bats.
‘Thank fuck for that,’ Osmo said. ‘Can you imagine the chaos that those things would cause?’
It wasn’t worth thinking about. One of the creatures had managed to slay dozens of victims.
They drenched the barn in petrol, making sure that plenty of it glugged down into the pit. They drew a trail of petrol out into the field, retreated to a safe distance and threw a lit match into the grass. The flames raced into the barn, consuming the building and belching out thick black smoke.
They watched the flames build, Osmo, Baz and Campbell all shedding a tear for those they had lost, then they went to drown their sorrows.
XI
Dwayne had got into one of the cars that had been kept at the outer edge of the farm. Over the years they had taken a lot of vehicles. They had scrapped most of them to get money for food when victims weren’t readily available. The remaining half a dozen cars were hidden in strategic locations around the farm for the specific purpose of fleeing in case things went south.
He hauled the body of the policeman’s wife into the back seat, taking care to lie it on its back so as not to damage the precious life that grew in her belly. She should be considered lucky that she was dead, as those things made a hell of a mess when they chewed their way out of the womb.
The vast majority of the creatures died upon leaving the host’s body, but he had high hopes for this breeding. The stomach bulged as the creature inside moved. He hadn’t seen such strong movements before, so he was confident that this one would thrive.
A couple of miles from the farm, he pulled over, hearing the wet chewing sounds that he knew heralded the arrival of the infant creatures. He turned into the back seat to see a mass of dark blood oozing out from between the legs of the corpse.
Less than a minute later, the creature’s pale head appeared. Its tiny grey tongue flicked at the congealed blood that lined the wound. It let out a mewling cry that made Dwayne smile. This one was strong. Its tiny, wing-like arms hauled it forward, a taste of the blood that coated its lips seeming to provide the strength it needed to emerge into the twilight.
Dwayne felt honoured to witness what was sure to be the first successful breeding of his master’s race in years. The puppy-sized creature was beautiful, and, with sufficient care, affection and feeding, would give him the eternal life that his dead master had promised.
While he watched the creature feasting on the meat of the dead woman’s thigh, he noticed her belly twitching. He watched in amazement as a second pale snout poked out of the ragged hole between the woman’s legs. It let out a high-pitched cry like its sibling and proceeded to yawn and sample the blood around the wound. Invigorated by the blood, it crawled out into the car.
Dwayne was amazed at the spectacle. Living twins were unheard of, as one always killed the other while they were still in the womb. He had something exceedingly special here. He watched the beautiful creatures feast for a while, then he pulled away and headed to the next town. He knew of an abandoned barn there that he could use to raise these vicious little miracles.
Walk in the Park
One
Debbie took in a deep breath of clean air as she wheeled her daughter’s pushchair into the park.
As she glanced round, she noted that she and Becki seemed to be the only people in the vast expanse of green that stretched away from them.
It was slightly eerie being absolutely alone in the park, but it was only two PM, what was the worst that could happen?
She’d later remember that thought and shake her head at her naivety.
Any time of day could change your life in ways you couldn’t imagine.
That was later though.
For now, she admired the serenity as she took the path that snaked down the side-line of one of the two football pitches, past the skating ramps to her right and through the bright red metal gate that led into the play area.
‘You ready to go on the swings, Becki?’ she asked, tipping the pushchair onto its back wheels so she could see her daughter’s face.
Becki’s gap-toothed grin let her know that she was indeed ready.
Debbie put the front wheels back on the floor and ran in to the playground.
Looking back, she would wish she’d saved her energy.
She ran past the big boy’s slide to her left, which wound round and round from a height that Debbie found nauseating, and up to the swings.
Like the rest of the park, the play area was deserted. It was nice in a way, but still a little creepy. Still, there was a security camera on a pole, so she felt like she was under helpful surveillance.
These little things that reassure us so much, she would later think. When really they shouldn’t.
She made an enthusiastic whooshing sound as she lifted Becki from the pushchair.
Debbie held her fourteen month old daughter above her head and stared into her eyes. Becki’s nose wrinkled as she exposed her two front teeth in an adorable little smile. Debbie held her at shoulder height and flew her over to the swings, again making the whooshing sound.
Becki giggled, warming her mother’s heart.
Debbie carefully put her into the seat, wincing as one of Becki’s legs got caught in the metal bars.
Becki could have cared less, she was already bouncing on her cute little butt, eager to get the swing ride started.
‘Two seconds, sweetie,’ Debbie said, struggling to free the twisted limb.
Becki wrinkled her nose again and started bouncing even more enthusiastically.
‘There we go,’ Debbie said, beaming from ear to ear. ‘Hey, no time to play woof-woofs,’ she laughed as Becki’s front teeth cl
amped down on her hand.
She gave the swing a little push. Becki’s smile somehow became even larger. Debbie looked at her in wonder for a few seconds while she swung back and forth.
The utter happiness on Becki’s face thrilled her.
It would turn out to be the last time she could remember being truly happy.
And that was the moment right before her life changed irreversibly.
A few minutes into the swing ride, Debbie was into her catching feet routine and Becki was giggling away with an adorable hurk-hurk-hurk noise that her mother found hilarious and cute in equal measures.
Debbie grinned and rolled her eyes, inciting further mirth from her daughter, then a scream pierced her ear drums and echoed around the park.
She spun round, trying to locate the source of the noise.
There was still no one in the play area or the part of the park she had passed.
Behind the play area, hidden by a thick hedge, was the second football pitch. The pitch was on top of a hill which sloped down to the perimeter of the park, guarded by a wrought iron fence, supposedly there to keep the drunken teenaged louts out.
The scream seemed to have come from the direction of this football pitch.
In a decision she would regret as long as she lived, she lifted Becki out of the swing and into the pushchair and set off to investigate.
Becki cried out, and in hindsight Debbie had the impression that even a toddler knew what she was doing was a bad idea, but she shoved a dummy into her daughter’s mouth and carried on.
Becki suckled the dummy contentedly, her protests all but forgotten.
A second scream came, louder and more forceful than the first.
‘Get the fuck away from me,’ a female voice shouted.
Debbie felt a shiver run down her spine but she found the pull of curiosity impossible to resist. She moved to the hedges, carefully parking the pushchair so that Becki wasn’t getting prickled, and moved to where there was a gap.
She saw a girl in a black trouser suit moving away from a group of three youths.
The closest was a young lad, who looked no older than twenty.
The knife he held in his pale fist looked large enough to be classed as a sword.
‘Help,’ the girl shouted.
Debbie was torn about whether to get involved, knowing her priority was to protect Becki, but at the same time not wanting to see the girl get hurt.
Muggings were the rule rather than the exception round here, it was a sad fact of life. Still, one didn’t expect to be held up at knife point while taking an afternoon walk in the park.
Debbie resigned herself to watching the confrontation, then calling the police as soon as she got home. She’d left her mobile in the TV cabinet, having not ever needed it on any of her previous walks.
She regretted her decision a second later when the knife went into the woman’s gut with a force that lifted her off her feet.
‘Have that, ya fucking slag,’ the lad laughed as the woman hit the deck.
Debbie was utterly stunned by what she had seen.
A second teenager ran in and put the boot to the woman’s head.
Her screams echoed around the park, terror laced with agony and despair.
Hearing them made Debbie wish she was deaf.
The second teenager snatched the bag out of the woman’s hands and ran off.
A third youth came in, and this was the part that Debbie found hardest to take – though she should have expected it in this town – this attacker was female.
The girl took the gore-stained knife from her friend and raised it high above her head, reminding Debbie of a vampire slayer raising the stake to impale the undead fiend in the final act of some shit horror movie.
But this was all too real.
The knife came down, plunging into the fallen woman’s gut. Her scream of pain was utterly deafening for a few seconds, before cutting off abruptly.
The woman slumped back to the ground, blood racing out of the stab wounds.
The two remaining teenagers laughed as they dragged the body down the hill and hid it near the fence.
Debbie was frozen for a second.
She had no desire to meet the murderous teens herself, especially with Becki in tow, but she couldn’t let the girl die without at least trying to help.
The teenagers disappeared from view.
Debbie gave it a minute then cautiously moved through the hedge and across the field. She took the pushchair with her, not wanting to leave Becki on her own.
The teenagers had fucked off.
Thank Christ, she thought. She was ready to turn back at the slightest hint of something being wrong, but they were nowhere to be seen.
The woman had been dumped at the bottom of the hill near some bushes. She looked as pale and lifeless as a rag doll.
Debbie ran down the hill, almost tripping and tumbling in her haste to reach the woman.
She felt for a pulse and was mortified to discover that the woman didn’t have one. Her eyes were blank and glassy, her blood slowly staining the mud beneath her a deep shade of crimson.
Debbie let out her own cry at the sight of the woman’s corpse.
Then she clapped a hand over her mouth, in case the louts responsible were still within earshot.
She patted down the figure, looking for a mobile phone initially, then anything that might help to identify the woman.
She found a mobile in the woman’s back pocket. The screen was smeared with a thin coating of blood. Debbie cried out as her palm sunk into the slick warmth.
She dropped the phone as if it was red hot and wiped it with her sleeve, unable to stomach the feel of blood on her hand again.
Her guts lurched like she’d started a drop on a rollercoaster, and in a way she had.
It was all downhill from there.
While she tried to figure out how to actually make a call on the phone – it was a failing of phones these days, she found, they did everything but it was so difficult to make a call on the damn things – she heard footsteps from behind her.
She hoped for a brave passer-by to take over from her as she was feeling distinctly queasy now.
Instead she got the lad who had taken the woman’s handbag.
Two
She stared at him dumbly for a second before cursing and starting to shove the pushchair back up the hill for all she was worth.
He shouted with a volume she thought reserved for megaphones, sirens and car stereos, letting his mates and accomplices know that someone had stumbled upon the scene.
He’d been sent back for the phone when the oldest lad had realised that it wasn’t in the bag.
The backs of Debbie’s legs burnt with the effort of pushing the heavy pushchair up the hill.
Becki started screaming as if she sensed the danger they were in.
The top of the hill came after what felt like an eternity.
The lad was almost close enough to touch her now, she could hear his breathing and the squeak of his trainers on the wet grass.
The raised voices of the other two teenagers came from the bottom of the hill. She cursed herself for getting involved, why the hell hadn’t she just gone home and called the cops from there?
She realised the lad was going to catch her, so tried to figure out how best to proceed. The closest thing she had to a weapon was the heavy key ring in her pocket, so she pulled this out, putting a few of the keys between her knuckles so they protruded like Freddy Krueger’s spikes, and swung her fist with all her might.
The youth’s eyes went wide, as though the last thing he’d ever have expected was for this meek-looking mother to turn and lamp him one.
The keys sunk into his left cheek, spattering blood on her hand.
The feel repulsed her, but she was willing to wade through gallons of it to get her and Becki to safety.
The lad wasn’t as tough as he seemed to think, as he stopped, his hands cupped to the wound that gouted blood down his w
hite Kappa tracksuit, and let out a couple of pained grunts.
Debbie came to her senses and resumed running. Her lungs were already burning from the exercise and she was deeply regretful that she hadn’t visited the gym since Becki was born.
She risked a glance behind her and saw the two grimacing teenagers reach the top of the hill.
‘I think she has a knife,’ the younger lad said, spitting blood over the faces of his companions as they reached him.
‘Fucking bitch,’ the girl spat and started running after Debbie. The bigger lad followed a second later.
Debbie reckoned these two were unlikely to be put off by a mere punch to the face, so she increased her efforts, using the grisly image of what had happened to the suited woman to spur her on.
She reached the hedges and ducked through, cursing as a branch scored a bloody furrow across her right temple.
If only that was the only scar I bear from the events of that day, she would later mourn.
As she cleared the hedge, her frantic eyes picked up that there still didn’t seem to be anyone in the playground.
She cursed and briefly debated running towards the camera, but then thought this was fraught with problems. Even assuming they saw the camera, it may not actually deter them from hurting her.
She crossed this off her mental list of options and instead turned towards the football field. She was stuck with running, it seemed.
The two youths weren’t far behind. Her legs were burning and close to giving up the ghost. She knew the feeling from her gym sessions, but these days it came shamefully quick.
Her mouth tasted like shit as she wheezed in another breath.
She knew she was seconds away from her body deserting her.
No more than a minute away from ending up in the same state as the woman.
She could see no witnesses, no one to help her, no one to even tell the cops what fate had befallen her.
Her body screaming at her to stop, she turned to face the youths.
As she turned, she clutched the keys tight in her hand. She applied the brake to the pushchair and stood in front of it. They’d have to go through her to get to Becki.