by Tom Hoyle
Contents
CHAPTER 1 INTO THE WEB (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
CHAPTER 2 NEW BOY (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
CHAPTER 3 DOGS (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
CHAPTER 4 OLIVER (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
CHAPTER 5 ABBIE (PAST AND PRESENT)
CHAPTER 6 A GOOD SHOT (SATURDAY 1ST NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 7 ABBIE’S DISCOVERY (SATURDAY 1ST NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 8 THE VICTIM (SATURDAY 1ST NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 9 HARMLESS? (DAYS FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY 5TH NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 10 THE SNOW PLACE (SUNDAY 2ND NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 11 THE CEREMONY (SATURDAY 15TH NOVEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 12 BATS (SATURDAY 13TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 13 BOLLESKINE (SATURDAY 13TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 14 DOWNHILL RACER (SUNDAY 14TH AND MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 15 SPIDERS (MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 16 OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, INTO THE FIRE (MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 17 WATER (MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 18 COMING TO GET YOU (MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 19 ‘HELP’ (MONDAY 15TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 20 LEAVING AVIEMORE (TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 21 NO ESCAPE (TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 22 OLIVER VS ADAM (TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 23 HIDE AND SEEK (TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 24 PRISON (TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 25 THE END IS NEAR (DAYS FOLLOWING TUESDAY 16TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 26 INTO THE CAVERN (FRIDAY 19TH AND SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 27 SOMETHING IN THE PIPELINE (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 28 THE CAVES (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 29 THE CHIMNEY (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 30 MEGAN (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 31 BRITISH MUSEUM (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 32 EDINBURGH (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 33 THE FLY GOES TO THE WEB (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 34 GOING UNDERGROUND (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
CHAPTER 35 SPIDERS AND FLIES (SATURDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2014)
EPILOGUE A FEW WEEKS LATER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER 1
INTO THE WEB (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
‘Let me out! Please, please, let me go. I’ll do anything.’ The girl thumped hard on the glass. ‘Please!’
They wanted her to be happy, but they wouldn’t let her go. She had to stay until they could all make the journey.
Thick darkness hung on either side of the dual carriageway. A lorry sped past, throwing up misty spray, its driver focused ahead, oblivious to the surroundings.
No one noticed a vehicle turning down the narrow road that snaked through empty fields. The car followed the road through a barren valley, then climbed up to where rocks replaced grass, before stopping by Loch Dreich, a cold and windswept place, one of the highest and most remote locations in the Scottish mountains. Trees bravely clung to the soil nearest to the lake, and here, where the road met the water’s edge, the men left their car and took a track on foot.
One man carried a crowbar; another a hammer; the third, who was shorter and stockier than the others, had a large spanner along with six large plastic bags in his rucksack. Out of the night came the gentle lapping sound of water on rock. In the middle distance, perhaps half a mile away, they saw one glinting light and were drawn along the track towards it, like moths to a flame. Torchlight made pale circles in front of them as they strode closer through the misty moonless gloom. They were arrogant. Foolish.
Castle Dreich was an ideal target: isolated, grand, full of prizes. In this deserted valley, mobile phones did not receive: the residents would be helpless.
It would be easy . . .
Sneak : quietly approach, shrouded by darkness.
Crack : force the window open.
Thud : three thieves arrive next to the most valuable items.
The benefits of a prison education.
Greedy thoughts of rich jewellery and golden ornaments filled the men’s minds. Farmhouses had been easy targets. This would be better.
Their torches shone across a web of tyre tracks, but there were no cars, and not a sound came from the large building.
‘Look,’ said the short, stocky one. He pointed at a slightly open window and chuckled. ‘Fan-bloody-tastic. Easier than ever.’
For a moment the half-moon shone on the loch, reflecting off its iron-like surface, and a smear of light ran up the hillside. But the three men were interested only in the window and the rewards beyond.
Unseen figures in cloaks, briefly illuminated by the moonlight, watched the men. One breathed in through glistening teeth and licked his lips. Then the deep black returned and those on the hillside were invisible again.
The castle was more or less square, traditional in its turrets and reddish-brown stone, medieval-looking apart from modern garage doors on the side facing away from the loch. Thirteen broad steps led up to a large oak door studded with metal. The men didn’t know it – but the door was unlocked. To the right of it, along a narrow ledge, the open window tempted them closer.
Come in!
The men crept up the steps, rising above the lowest level of blank windows, and shuffled a few feet along the stone shelf to the opening. A quick flash of the torch revealed the treasure that lay inside. ‘Let’s do this,’ said the tallest, nudging the window wider. Within seconds they were in an Aladdin’s cave – a sitting room packed with valuables. ‘Whoever lives here is going to get one hell of a surprise when they find this lot has gone.’
The shorter man leaned against the thick interior door, listened intently and then eased it open. He saw the inside of the front door and a wide central staircase. It had the faint air of a hotel lobby rather than the entrance hall of a private house. He crept to the next door on his right and opened it; his torch flashed across long dining tables until it reached a dumb waiter, there to bring up food from the kitchens below.
Back in the entrance hall, he could see a door at the far end that differed from the others – it was larger, older and not the same type of wood. Something made him edge down the hallway towards it. It was unlocked.
‘Come on,’ said one of the others in the first room. ‘Let’s get this done.’ Items were smoothly swept into plastic bags from mantelpieces and tables: candlesticks, small twisted sculptures, dark paintings of mythical creatures.
Outside, figures surrounded the castle. They raised their hoods.
Inside, the shorter man opened the door at the end of the hall and peered into an old chapel that ran the entire length of the far side of the castle, bigger than most churches. Up and to his left, looking down on rows of chairs, was a sort of viewing gallery. And to his right a table, with something lying on it. The man frowned.
Two torches darted around the first room, beams crossing, as the men moved faster and more greedily. Then one stopped: ‘What the hell?’ He was looking at a picture inside a gold frame. It was of a baby’s body with a goat’s head and horns. ‘Weirdos.’ His torch beam fell on to the next picture on the cabinet: it was of a dead pig.
At the far end of the room a music box started playing a simple tune, making them jump. They trained their torches on the box and the music stopped with a long screech. The two men froze.
‘This isn’t right. Where’s Jay?’ In unspoken agreement, they started towards the window they had entered by.
There was a gentle hissing sound above them. They instinctively shone their torches upward. Carved gargoyles leered do
wn from the ceiling, words painted around them. The men read them aloud as each was illuminated: Welcome to the Castle by the Loch.
Then: ‘Let’s get outta here. Now!’
Suddenly the window snapped shut from the outside and a key turned in the lock of the door. For a moment there was light under the door, but then, bit by bit, it disappeared.
A peppery smell began to fill the room.
‘Smash the window!’ Neither one was sure who said it.
The crowbar was swung back, ready to come crashing against the glass and lead. But at that moment, melting out of the darkness, from behind the glass, came a face with wild eyes and an open mouth.
The smell was intoxicating – drugging the men.
Now the face at the window had horns.
The drug was taking effect.
Heads of snakes appeared from his ears, then slowly slithered out.
The man dropped his crowbar.
There was a voice: ‘We will empty you of yourself.’
Shadows appeared to move inside the room. Their hazy edges became sharper as the shapes gathered into human form. They swirled round and round, faster and faster, distorted, twisted and ugly.
The tallest thief started to whimper as he saw that every figure had snakes’ heads for eyes. The peppery-sweet smell in the room was overpowering. The man realized he was screaming. He sank to his knees as the faces came closer and closer until he was smothered by them.
Outside, someone laughed, the sound echoing off the hills and reaching out over the loch.
In the old chapel, the shorter man, Jay, edged towards the table. On the wall he could make out a painting of a large yellow circle with jagged spikes or rays firing out of it. Walking forward, he saw that a set of golden armour lay on the table. If he could carry this out, it would fetch a fortune.
Then he smelt something. Something sweet, even sickly, but also like pepper. Greed fought with uneasiness as the room started to swirl around him.
The armour twitched and spun. The hallucination had begun. Metal jolted and clanked.
‘What the . . . ?’ he slurred.
The helmet lifted off.
The visor was pulled up.
But there was no head inside – only bees gathering into a swarm. They were coming to get him.
The thin beam from the pencil torch made the patient’s pupils constrict only very slightly. The doctor shouted to make himself heard over the screaming: ‘Please sedate him.’
A needle was pressed into the man’s arm, but he still struggled against the restraints that pinned him to the bed.
‘Another dose.’
Eventually the man’s struggling faded away into just the occasional twitch.
‘Are the other two in the same state?’
Another doctor, holding piles of thick files against her chest, nodded. ‘They seem to be terrified – we can’t get them to speak or respond to more than basic stimuli.’
‘The brain scans?’
She shook her head. ‘Extraordinary. Very unusual brain activity. Some important regions of the brain are dormant, and others overactive. I don’t think the frontal lobe will ever return to normal.’
The man on the bed roared and tried to shrink away from the serpents that coiled down from the ceiling towards him. His world was a blur of terrible images. Fear clung to him like clothes; his blood was thick with treacly dread.
The three men had been found earlier that day on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. One month before, on the night they lost their minds, these same men had arrived at the edge of Loch Dreich in the Highlands, intending to burgle a castle.
CHAPTER 2
NEW BOY (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
YEAR 10 AT GOSPEL OAK SENIOR SCHOOL, LONDON
‘Incoming!’
The tennis ball bounced off the whiteboard. A good throw: via Megan’s desk, it made it all the way to the back wall and nearly hit the poster about the Highlands of Scotland.
‘Jake. Your go!’ There was a murmur of excitement and some cheering. Jake had broken the clock and a fluorescent tube already this term.
Jake Taylor had grown in all directions in recent months and now shaved daily. He pointed at a boy with plastic-framed glasses sitting near the front: ‘Leo, keep an eye out for Fanny.’ Leo trudged forward, reluctant to do Jake’s bidding but frightened to show actual opposition. Miss Frances was always late, especially when she had Year 10 for geography. As Leo peered through the glass panel in the middle of the door, Jake drew back his arm and let the ball fly.
It was one of those throws so strong and direct that the ball didn’t rotate in the air, right until the point where it hit Asa in the ear.
‘Ooooh! Sorry. I didn’t mean that,’ said Jake, clearly as the introduction to an insult. ‘I meant to hit your boyfriend.’
Adam, who was still waiting for his growth spurt, stood up and faced Jake as he had so many times before. ‘You’re such a knob.’
‘Please, please don’t hurt me,’ mocked Jake. ‘Please don’t throw me out the window, special one.’
As so often, Adam’s mind was dragged back to the events of the previous Christmas, captured by a cult, then fighting at the top of a London skyscraper, sending a man falling to his death . . . the police investigation that followed, and the attention – most of it unwelcome – that he faced at school. True, he enjoyed the admiration of the younger boys and the flattering attention of girls of all ages, but this was scant compensation for the lack of a normal life. He would have given up all of the flattery to just be normal. Worst of all, teachers were keen to be sympathetic to him and Megan.
Someone had passed the ball back to Jake. ‘Let me have another go . . .’
There was frantic waving from the door and Leo scurried back to his desk. ‘Fanny’s coming.’ This would usually have resulted in a leisurely and partial return to order. ‘With Sterling.’
There was an urgent return to an unnatural standard of behaviour. Miss Frances walked in followed by Mr Sterling, the deputy head, who mumbled, ‘I thought I heard a bit of noise. Must have been upstairs.’ He turned to the doorway. ‘Come in, Oliver.’
Oliver was blond and good-looking in the way that appealed to mums rather than to girls. He had large blue eyes and a round pale face. Adam’s mum would have called him sweet . He carried a brown leather satchel – not the usual rucksack – and a strangely shaped case that Adam feared contained a violin.
‘This is Oliver Arkwright,’ said Mr Sterling. ‘His parents have recently returned from Hong Kong. Oliver is a keen musician.’ Mr Sterling paused and looked at the boy as if he was an unusual specimen under a microscope. ‘I am sure you will fit in well, Oliver.’ Everyone could tell that this remark was more in hope than expectation. A boy like this would have to adapt very quickly to Gospel Oak.
‘Thank you very much, sir,’ said Oliver in a high-pitched whisper.
‘Why don’t you sit next to . . .’ Mr Sterling scanned the room, but the only spare seat was on Jake Taylor’s table. ‘Er – how about . . . ?’
Adam held his breath and tried to look away, but Megan was keen to catch Mr Sterling’s eye. She was even nodding slightly, indicating their table.
‘Megan!’ hissed Adam.
‘Yes, why don’t you join Megan and Adam over there? I’m sure they can squeeze one more on.’ Mr Sterling smiled faintly at Miss Frances and left the room.
Immediately there was a rush of noise.
‘Are you going to show us your big instrument?’ said Jake.
There was the usual sniggering from the back, but the silence that followed caught Adam’s question: ‘What sort of music do you like?’
‘The usual,’ said Oliver politely. ‘Bach mainly.’
The room fell about laughing, even Adam’s friend Leo, who was relieved that a wonderful gift – an even greater geek than him – had arrived.
Megan tried to help. ‘I’m sure you like modern stuff as well.’
‘Yeah – Megadeth and Slayer,’ sho
uted Jake.
Oliver might have been quiet, but he didn’t lack nerve. ‘Actually, I do like some of the heavy sounds.’
Thank God , thought Adam.
Oliver continued: ‘Yes, I’m rather fond of the Beatles.’
CHAPTER 3
DOGS (FRIDAY 31ST OCTOBER 2014)
Little warnings were all around Max.
Champion Swimmer Goes Missing shrieked the board next to the newspaper seller.
A boy was borrowing the book Kidnapped .
Special DVD offers by the door included Taken 2 .
He came out of the library and plugged himself into his iPod.
Max was a chess champion and had been in the paper under the headline New Scientist – The Best GCSE Physics Result in Britain . He had a free place at the poshest school in the north of England.
He walked in time with the beat of his music.
Behind, a man and a woman walked in time with him, but with slightly longer paces. Step by step, they drew closer. At the corner they waited to cross, all three together, closer than was natural. It was instinct that made Max pull the cords from his ears.
I’m safe here , he thought. This is my area. And there are lots of cars .
It was then he felt a tiny sharp pain on the back of his neck, like one single hair being pulled. But when he put his hand up there was nothing there. He glanced at the woman; she gave a fake smile, showing her teeth, but her eyes were blank, like a dog’s.
The man put the thin needle back in his coat pocket.
Max walked on, but despite speeding up and slowing down, he couldn’t get more than a couple of paces away from them. His wariness developed into fear and then something more like terror. He imagined sharp teeth set in protruding jaws.
He heard a yelp. Stupid imagination , he thought. Then, in the distance, he heard a howl.
When he came to the path after the bridge the people were no longer there, but his fear remained; it was like the fear that makes you check behind the sofa and under the bed after watching a horror film, the fear that makes people want to sleep with the light on. Every little sound was a threat.
Don’t be stupid! Why can’t you think properly?