The Crowmaster

by Barry Hutchison

  I was bigger than the window frame, but that didn’t matter. In one shove he drove me through the old wood. I felt it splinter and snap; heard the final shards of the glass shatter and crack. And then there was nothing.

  Nothing but the birds.

  They flocked around me as I fell, swooping and diving, their sharp claws and beaks shredding through my clothes and ripping at my skin. Through the fog of screeching black I saw the Crowmaster. He was perched on the windowsill, laughing and pointing as I plunged backwards towards the ground.

  Although it must’ve been over in seconds, that moment seemed to last for ever. The pain. The fear. And then, the desperate flicker of hope as I felt a faint surge of power buzz through my skull. It all seemed to happen at quarter-speed, right up until the moment I hit the ground.

  WHUMPF. I bounced awkwardly off something soft, tumbled sideways in the air, then face-planted into the soil of Marion’s vegetable plot. The crows’ attack eased off, although I guessed they were just repositioning themselves for a fresh assault. Whatever, it gave me enough time to raise my head and look at what I’d crashed down on to.

  A mattress lay beside me. It looked brand new – aside from a dark red streak where my blood had sprayed across it during the fall. It was thick and it was soft – soft enough to have saved my life.

  And, without even thinking about it, I’d made it appear out of thin air. Despite everything that was happening around me, for a split second I just stared at the mattress. Had I created it? Or did someone somewhere suddenly have their mattress vanish out from underneath them? I thought again about Mr Mumbles and Caddie reappearing at my house. If I had somehow made the mattress, then maybe my theory was right. Maybe my imagination had brought both of them to life too.

  A shadow grew larger around me, snapping me back to the present. I flopped on to my back just as the Crowmaster’s boots crunched into the soil on either side of my head. From down on the ground he loomed like a giant; an unstoppable colossus, about to squash me underfoot.

  ‘Well lookee-loo at you, boy,’ the scarecrow spat. ‘Maybe you’s special after all.’ He took a few steps back and raised his skinny arms. The crows flew into formation above him. They circled round and round just over his head, flying faster and faster until they were a tornado of spinning black. ‘You scared of me, boy?’ he demanded.

  I shook my head. I was terrified, of course, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing.

  The grin on his face said he knew I was lying. ‘They are,’ he said. ‘My babies here, they’s afraid of me. They’s terrified, the lot of them. They’s so terrified they’ll do whatever I tell them to do.’ He gave another hiss of laughter. ‘Watch.’

  The birds broke formation and flung themselves towards me. I curled my arms over my head. If I could protect myself for long enough, there was a chance – a slim one – that I could find a way out of this. The last thing I saw before I shut my eyes was a flash of open beak, and the jagged curve of an outstretched claw.

  And then came an unexpected sound. The Crowmaster let out a roar – a furious shriek that echoed all the way from the house up to the forest, and back again.

  I peeked through a gap in my arms and realised the birds were no longer moving to attack. They banked left and right, spinning and tumbling as they struggled to avoid crashing into one another. A few of them couldn’t pull out fast enough, and collided clumsily in mid-air. Others thudded into the wall, flapped up on to the roof, or simply dropped like stones to the ground.

  The Crowmaster stumbled through it all, his long arms waving around. He shouted and screeched and gnashed his rotten teeth, but his control over the birds had been broken by… something. But what?

  It was then that my phone rang. I felt it at first – a sudden vibration in my jeans pocket that caught me by surprise and almost scared the hell out of me. A second later, the ringtone kicked in, shrill and tuneless, like the chorus of the crows themselves.

  The ringing whipped the birds into even more of a frenzy. Their movements were panicked and erratic. Most of them were fleeing, while those that remained were either flapping around on the ground, or fighting among themselves.

  Even the Crowmaster was affected by whatever had startled the birds. He staggered unsteadily on his feet and flailed wildly with his arms, as if feeling his way through darkness.

  Through it all, my phone kept ringing.

  My brain still felt like it was floating in soup, but as I watched him claw at thin air, something went click. The holes in his head were just that – empty spaces, serving no purpose whatsoever. He had no eyes of his own, so he relied on the eyes of others. The eyes of his birds.

  ‘I don’t know how you did that, boy, but I ain’t gonna let you do it again,’ the scarecrow seethed. ‘When I find you, I’m gonna hurt you. I’m gonna hurt you so bad you’ll beg me to slit your throat an’ be done with it.’

  He stopped moving for a moment and seemed to find his bearings. With two strides of his stick-thin legs he reached me. A boot crumpled into my stomach, rolling me over on to my back. He bent at the waist, until his face was hanging directly above mine.

  ‘Maybe I can’t see you right now, but that ringer in your pocket’s making enough racket that I can still find you just the same.’

  He brought his right hand down and felt through my hair, then down over my forehead until he reached my eyebrows. He flicked out his middle and index fingers and pressed the blackened nails against my cheeks until I gasped with the pain.

  Through it all, my phone kept ringing.

  ‘Maybe you stopped my babies taking your eyes, but you ain’t gonna stop me. You ain’t gonna stop me from scratching away them—’

  Something about the size of a small horse hit him from the side. One moment he was there above me, the next he was on the ground less than a metre away, kicking and scratching at the ferocious, slavering beast that had pounced on him.

  The animal was in a frenzy, using every part of itself to attack the fallen Crowmaster. It was moving too fast for me to make it out clearly, but I could see its gums were pulled back, revealing sharp, yellowing teeth. They snapped furiously at the scarecrow, who hissed and spat and swore, struggling to fend the creature off.

  A fist – or it could have been a foot – was thrown from the thrashing mass of teeth and limbs. It caught me across the ear – a glancing blow, but the final straw for my bruised and battered body. My muscles went slack and I began to feel as if I were completely weightless.

  Floating on a tide of incoming black, I could hear the Crowmaster squealing and howling as he fought with the animal on his chest. I heard the growling of the beast, the snapping of its wide, vicious jaws. I heard the wheezing of my own breath, flowing unsteadily in and out through my shattered nose. In and out. In and out. In and out.

  And through it all – through every terrible sound I heard as I finally lost consciousness – my phone never once stopped ringing.

  Chapter Twelve

  GUARDIAN ANGELS

  I woke up in near darkness, still lying down, but no longer on the ground.

  I was on my back on Marion’s couch, a blanket covering me from my feet to my chest. The room was draped in shadow, with only the dim light of the flames flickering in the fireplace to ease the gloom. In the half-darkness it took me a few seconds to realise I wasn’t alone. Over by the shuttered window, someone stood peering through a gap, their back to me.

  There was something else in the room too. I’m not sure how, exactly, but I could sense it there – lurking down on the floor right next to where I was lying. If I listened carefully I could hear the faint wheezing of its breath. It sounded like the breathing of something big, and I guessed it was the animal that had come out of nowhere and attacked the Crowmaster. I probably owed it my life, but the memory of those teeth put me off reaching down and giving it a hug.

  Something hit the window with a hollow thud and the figure by the shutters took a sudden step backwards, muttering
quietly. A sliver of light shone through a gap in the wooden slats, and I caught a glimpse of a face I instantly recognised.

  ‘Ameena?’

  She whipped round at the sound of my voice, and her face was lost to the flickering shadows again. On the floor beside me, the hulking shape of the animal shifted. I heard it yawn somewhere close by my ear.

  ‘Hey,’ Ameena said. Even in the dark, I could hear her smile. ‘You’re up.’

  ‘I’m messed up,’ I corrected, my fingertips cautiously exploring my broken nose and swollen eye sockets. My nostrils were choked up with dried blood, and my voice sounded weirdly nasal when I spoke.

  Thud. Something else smacked against the windowpane, making Ameena jump. Down on the floor, I heard the animal give a low growl.

  ‘Maybe I don’t want to know,’ I began quietly, gesturing towards the creature at my side, ‘but what in God’s name is that?’

  ‘A dog, what do you think?’

  ‘A dog?’ I spluttered, remembering the beast outside. ‘Are we talking about the same animal? Size of a bear? Teeth like a shark?’

  ‘See for yourself.’ Ameena shuffled through the darkness and flicked the light switch. The sudden glow from the bulb forced my eyes shut. I blinked rapidly until my vision adjusted, then glanced down into the trusting brown eyes of a very large Great Dane.

  It was the same animal, there was no doubt about it. The only difference was now it looked like a friendly – if a bit on the gigantic side – family pet. A far cry from the ferocious, slavering hell-hound I’d seen earlier.

  The dog’s rough, sandpaper tongue slobbered over my hand as I slowly reached for the little silver disk I could see hanging from its collar. The darkness made it difficult to see, and I had to angle the metal towards the window to read what it said.

  ‘Toto,’ I muttered. ‘So you’re Toto.’ I let the nametag fall from my fingers. ‘Huh. I wonder who the other little guy was.’

  ‘What little guy?’ asked Ameena.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said, pulling back the blanket and swinging my legs off the couch. Toto stood up, moved out of my way, then flopped back to the floor with a low grunt.

  ‘There’s a body upstairs,’ Ameena said gravely. ‘At least… I think it’s a body.’

  ‘I know,’ I nodded. ‘And it is.’

  THUD-AACK! We both heard the glass in the window crack. I didn’t really need to ask the question, but I asked it anyway.

  ‘What is that?’

  Ameena took a deep breath. In the light, I could see how pale and tired she looked. ‘A bird,’ she said. ‘It’s a bird. Been flinging itself against the window for the last ten minutes.’

  I moved to stand, but my legs weren’t strong enough to hold me up. I tried to act as if I’d just been getting comfortable on the couch, but I could tell from her face that Ameena wasn’t fooled.

  ‘Just the one?’

  ‘Far as I can tell,’ Ameena nodded. ‘Why? There aren’t more of them, are there?’

  I hesitated. ‘One or two.’

  She gripped her mouth and looked up to the ceiling. Her fingers pressed hard against her jaw, leaving even whiter marks on her already ashen face.

  ‘Great,’ she whispered. ‘Just great. It had to be birds, didn’t it?’

  ‘Not much of an ornithologist, I take it?’ I said.

  She looked over at me and frowned. ‘A what?’

  ‘Ornithologist. They study birds, I think.’ I stopped, suddenly doubting myself. ‘Or they might be a kind of dentist.’

  Ameena stared at me blankly. ‘Or is that an orthodontist?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she snapped. ‘There’s a dead body upstairs, a kamikaze crow out there, and you’ve got a face like a burst balloon. Why are you going on about dentists?’

  I thought about this for a moment. ‘I have no idea,’ I admitted at last. ‘Sorry. Think I’m still a bit dazed.’

  ‘Forget it,’ she sighed, slumping down on to the couch next to me. She sat forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her head in her hands. Her left leg bounced up and down, vibrating the old floorboards beneath her.

  ‘So. What happened?’ I asked her.

  ‘How should I know? I wasn’t here, was I?’ she bit back. ‘I found you lying out the front with Scooby Doo there trying to lick your face off. Been trying to call you for ages, but you didn’t answer. What’s up with that? What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even answer?’

  ‘I meant at home,’ I said softly. It felt like Ameena was teetering on a dangerous edge, and it wouldn’t take much to send her plummeting over it. ‘What happened with Mum?’

  Ameena’s leg stopped bouncing. The only movement in the room was the twitching of one of Toto’s ears.

  ‘He came out of nowhere,’ Ameena said. Her voice was sombre and quiet – matter-of-fact, almost – and it made my heart beat faster. ‘Your train had gone, we were just about to get back in the car and then… he was there. He was just there. Behind her. Smiling.’

  ‘Go on,’ I said.

  Ameena rubbed her fingertips hard against her forehead as she continued. ‘He picked her up like she was nothing. I tried to stop him, but I was on the other side of the car, and he… he was moving too fast.

  ‘There was a noise, like… I don’t know. Just a noise. Like a crash. The car alarm started going off. I didn’t realise what had happened to begin with.’ Ameena glanced at me, then quickly looked away. ‘But then I saw the blood on the windscreen.’

  I tried to speak, but my mouth felt full of sand. All I could do was listen.

  ‘He’d cracked the glass. With her head. He’d cracked the glass with her head, and I hadn’t even seen him move!’

  ‘What then?’ I asked, finding my voice. ‘What happened then? How is she? Is she OK?’

  Ameena’s eyes darted from side to side, as if she was watching the scene replaying before her. ‘He ran off,’ she said quietly. ‘Before I could do anything, he just turned and ran off. He just left her there, lying across the bonnet. Not moving.’

  She gave a little cough at the back of her throat and rubbed her sleeve across her eyes. ‘Someone must’ve called an ambulance,’ she said. ‘They turned up pretty quick. Took us to the hospital by the town.’

  ‘And what are they saying? Is she going to be all right? Have they said anything?’

  ‘She’s banged up, but she’s stable,’ Ameena told me. ‘They say she’ll be OK. I wouldn’t have left her otherwise.’

  That was reassuring to hear, but I wasn’t as relieved as I expected. I couldn’t quite believe it was that simple, that Mum was going to be fine. And I wouldn’t believe it, not until I saw her for myself.

  I’d done it again. Even when I was trying to keep her safe, I’d put Mum in danger. And Marion too. One of them hurt, one of them dead. All my fault. Mine.

  Ameena stood up suddenly and turned away. Her arms were tense by her sides, her bony fingers curled tightly into fists. ‘I swear, if I ever see that fat freak again, I’ll—’

  ‘You won’t,’ I said. She turned and I caught the confusion in her red-ringed eyes. ‘He’s dead,’ I explained. ‘Really, really dead.’

  This seemed to take the wind from her sails a little. She hesitated for a moment, then sat back down on the couch. ‘Oh,’ she nodded. ‘Well… good.’

  ‘He didn’t do it. The fat guy. It wasn’t him.’

  She was back on her feet again. ‘Yes it was! I saw him,’ she snapped. ‘Trust me, I know what I saw, and I saw a fat guy smashing your mum off—’

  ‘It wasn’t him,’ I repeated, more forcefully this time. I didn’t want to hear again what had happened to Mum. ‘What you saw – the fat guy – he wasn’t real. It was… I’m pretty sure it was, like, a costume.’

  ‘No, Kyle, I’ve seen costumes before, and this was real!’ Ameena argued.

  ‘Trust me,’ I told her, ‘you’ve never seen a costume like this.’

  She glared at me, still unconvinced. I he
ld her gaze, though, and eventually she shook her head, let out a long sigh, then flopped back down on the couch.

  ‘Well, if that’s true, who was wearing it?’

  It was my turn to stand up. My legs still felt shaky, but this time I didn’t fall down. Toto’s eyes followed me as I crossed to the window and looked out through a gap in the shutters. A crack ran the length of the windowpane from top to bottom. A series of smaller cracks spread out from the centre of the glass, presumably where the bird had hit.

  The world beyond the window was thick with gloom. A layer of ominous black cloud had rolled across the sky, turning the landscape dark. The trees up on the hillside moved stiffly, jostled and shoved by the wind. With each strong gust they seemed to bow towards the distant mobile phone mast, like ten thousand worshippers pledging loyalty to their god.

  I couldn’t see the bird that had cracked the window. In fact, for maybe the first time since I’d arrived here, I couldn’t see any birds at all.

  I felt a warmth on my elbow, and realised Ameena was standing beside me. She was so close her arm was touching mine.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, joining me in peeking through the gap, ‘crazy bird’s gone.’

  ‘Yep,’ I nodded. I smiled awkwardly at her, then turned away, feeling my cheeks flush red. Her warmth left my arm and I scurried to where Toto was sleeping on the floor. The dog made a cat-like purr as I scratched behind his ears.

  ‘That’s good news, right?’ Ameena continued. She was still staring out. She probably hadn’t even noticed that I’d moved.

  ‘Yep,’ I said again. ‘Sure is.’

  ‘Must’ve been scared off,’ she reasoned.

  ‘Must’ve been,’ I agreed. Had she leaned on me like that on purpose, or just so she could see outside?

  ‘Probably that scarecrow over there.’

  I nodded. ‘Probably.’

  Half a second later, my racing brain properly processed what she’d said.