They came for him, sweeping in like ghosts in a horror movie. Stanton turned to run and his feet slid from under him, the broken glass acting like ice. He fell against the Land Rover, and a strip of torn body work impaled his ribcage, skewering him like a kebab.
Stanton screamed as the wraiths fell upon him in a vicious sandstorm of movement. They didn’t bite or claw at him. They eroded. He thrashed on the torn metal as hair and skin and blood vessels were stripped from his body. Sand filled his mouth, forcing its way into his throat and lungs, stifling his final cries of pain and terror. His eyeballs popped, and the wraiths were into his skull, consuming Alec Stanton until only his bones remained to crumple in a heap upon the ground.
***
Congrave’s arms were tied off to the low branches of two yew trees. It made him form a ‘Y’ shape with his knees on the ground and his upper body stretched to breaking point. Pain and exhaustion made it almost impossible for him to keep his head raised. He wanted to watch this woman, this goddess, as she strode back and forth in front of him. Something had her on edge. He could sense both anger and uncertainty as she paused for a moment. He took a peek through narrowed eyes. She wore a frown as if listening to a conversation that Congrave could not hear. With Moira distracted, he straightened his spine to relieve the tension on his shoulders. Muscles had begun to spasm, drilling pain down his back.
Moira stepped close to him, and his head snapped back as she grasped a handful of his hair. She put her beautiful face close to his and whispered into his ear,
“You think you are so strong.”
He didn’t reply, couldn’t reply, as she bent his head further back. His neck twisted and bolts of agonising heat flared up into his brain.
“Are you strong?”
Through gritted teeth and with sweat running into his eyes Congrave stared into her face and made no sound.
“Hah!” she released him, throwing him forward against the ropes that bound him. “You are the one. Perfect for me.”
Congrave regained his breath, not trusting himself to speak. He heard movement and raised his head enough to see two of the half-men half-goat figures appear out of the woodland. They came to Moira and offered her a cluster of small objects that tumbled into her hand. Moira brought them to her face, sampled their aroma, and said, “Sweet.”
She came to him again and held out her hand. Congrave focussed on the objects she held. Seeds? She must have seen the uncertainty on his face because it made her smile. A wicked, knowing smile of power.
“My last tribute lasted a hundred years, sustained by the tree of life. I want the same of you.”
Now Congrave had to ask. “What do you mean?”
In answer, she knelt and dug her fingers into the soft loam soil. Half a dozen times she did this, and into each one she dropped a seed. Congrave twisted to watch her as she circled him. Seeds? The tree of life? Moira wiped her hands down his back to clean them. She came around in front of him.
“Are you ready?”
Congrave wanted her to go, to leave him alone and let him die. He stared blindly at the disturbed earth where Moira had planted the seeds. He didn’t see the first tender shoots appear out of the soil, tiny green stems that twisted in the air as they sought light and life. The first leaf formed. Now he saw them, and thought the pain that stripped every nerve bare had made him hallucinate. How could they germinate so quickly? How could they grow fast enough to see the movement and stretching of the stem? He watched and wondered.
The answer didn’t take long to come.
***
Moira watched the seedlings develop with a smile of pride. Her power lay within them, and they sought the tribute to both feed off him and to nurture him. The shoots continued to lengthen, sensing the heat and strength of the man. They wavered in the air, trying to find the best place to reach. Two went towards his thighs. Four for the thick muscle of his buttocks. Three stretched for his groin and the blood rich testicles. The final three lengthened enough to aim for his stomach and the food they sensed still being digested within.
“No.” Congrave looked up at her in realisation of what the seeds were attempting.
She laughed a jackal’s laugh. “Yes, my love. My tribute. They will feed from you and feed me.”
The first thrust into his flesh made him gasp in shock. She saw him look from seedling to seedling. The first to enter his groin made him cry out in pain. Moira smiled and clapped her hands in delight. He looked at her in horror.
“A thousand years,” she said. She came close to him and planted a kiss on his forehead.
“No.”
Moira retreated, leaving Congrave trapped between the yew trees and the seedlings. If she looked closely she could see some of the shoots as they threaded their way through muscle close to the surface of his skin. Offshoots would be working their way deep into his body, finding the liver, kidneys and stomach. In a few days, others would sprout through his flesh and seek sunlight. He would be one with the tree of life, and he would be hers for a thousand years.
She reached the shadows of the woodland and stopped. Here, her confidence ebbed a little. She looked at the tree canopy overhead. The branches mingled, a network of shapes that reflected her thoughts. Confusion. Stanton’s soul came to her. She held it and caressed it.
How had he died?
When?
Who?
Moira returned to Congrave. The loathing in his eyes amused her for a moment before she remembered the feelings that came from Stanton. The images and thoughts that showed her how he had died.
“How did she get back?” Moira asked.
Congrave stared at her. “Who?”
“The blonde one. I banished her and yet she is back. How?”
He flinched as a shoot drove into one testicle. Through his hiss of pain she heard him say, “You’re mad.”
“No. I am a goddess, and you are nothing.” Anger flared within her. She wanted to kill him. “The blonde one is back.”
“Joanne?”
“Yes. Joanne.”
“She will come for you,” Congrave said.
“Not if she is dead.”
“There are others,” Congrave’s voice faltered.
“Of course there are,” Moira said. “But only one can find me. And I have my plans for her as well.”
***
“So are you trying to tell me that you don’t know your boyfriend’s phone number?”
“I just go to his name in my contacts,” Kramer said, her eyes still focussed down the stairs to the ground floor of the pub.
Geordie snorted in disgust. “Well, it’s lucky some of us have got brains in their head.” He walked towards the civilians clustered together in the centre of the upper restaurant. “Oi, you lot. Has one of you got a phone?”
Four were offered. He took an iPhone 7 and tapped out a number. Kramer glanced back for a second. “Who are you calling?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“You know, Geordie, you can be annoying sometimes.” Kramer resumed her watch of the stairs.
“Only sometimes?” Geordie asked as he listened to the ringing tone. “It better not go to...Hello, Tiny, how you doing?...Yeah, it’s me. You thought you’d got rid of me but here I am, back again, like a bad case of piles...Cheers to you, too. Listen, where are you right now?... Cool. We’re in a bit of a fix down here. You know the pub by the Anomaly. Me and the Yank are stuck on the top floor with a bunch of civilians and a bucket load of monsters outside who want to eat us.... Yeah, I know, usual shit.... Anyhow, can you get down here asap? Yeah, bring one of them.... Thanks, mate, I’ll buy the next round.... Okay, and the one after that.... See you in a jiffy.”
Geordie ended the call, flipped the phone back to its owner and wandered over to Kramer. “Now that,” he said, “is how to mount a rescue.”
“A rescue?” Kramer asked.
“I told Tiny and Macca that if ever anything went tits up down here they should stick as close a
s possible to the transport guys. So he embedded himself into their unit to provide security.”
“What kind of transport?”
“The helicopter kind,” Geordie said with a grin.
“Seriously?” Kramer stared at him in disbelief.
“Right now a Merlin crew are spooling up to come and lift us out of this fucking nightmare. It’ll mean going back outside but Tiny’s got his MP5A and between us we should be able to hustle this lot out and jump on board for a one-way ticket to freedom.”
Kramer wanted some of Geordie’s optimism. She listened to him whistling as he looked out of a window at the car park and street. “Still there?” she asked.
“Yup. They’re milling around a bit like they don’t know what to do.”
“They can stay that way.”
Silence descended. If she listened hard enough Kramer could hear the grunting of the creatures outside. At least they hadn’t come into the bar area of the pub. She eased her legs into a more comfortable position.
Geordie came over and said, “It might be an idea to get down there and clear the ground floor. Once the chopper gets here we need to hustle.”
“I take it you’re asking me to lead the way?”
“I always say ladies first.”
Kramer stood and stretched her back. “You’re such a gentleman.”
Geordie winked. “You know me so well.”
“Make sure you’ve got me covered.”
“Will do.”
As Geordie told Greg, Katy and the others their plan Kramer started down the stairs. Although she hadn’t heard any sounds from the bar she couldn’t be certain it would be safe, so she proceeded with caution. Gun up tight to her shoulder she took each step with care. The expanse of the bar area opened up with each descent. She paused, checked, moved. The fifth tread from the bottom creaked and doubled her heart rate. Kramer waited. No movement. She took another step. The view of the bar showed the piles of rock and sand where the intruders had been gunned down. Tom still lay there as well, a lost and lonely figure. Kramer reached floor level and moved out into clear space. She did a three-sixty turn. Saw no threats.
Geordie stood halfway down the stairs. Kramer waved him on. He came down as she scooted over to the broken door. She pulled the splintered wood aside and looked out. Rain clouds filled the sky but no helicopter. Behind her, the civilians came to the ground floor in a muted rush, clustered together like a flock of sheep. Kramer said a little prayer that they wouldn’t scatter like sheep before a wolf-pack of goblins. She held up one hand to keep them in place.
Geordie came over, peering out. “Anything?”
“Not in line of sight,” Kramer said.
“Me or you?” he asked.
“Gotta be your turn.”
He grunted, took one last look and dashed out across the pub garden. He kept low, running with his legs bent until he reached the boundary wall. Kramer watched him peep over with quick glances to take a full view of the road. Geordie looked back at her. He held up one hand with fingers and thumb outstretched, closed it and opened it the same. Kramer grimaced. Ten monsters. She sighed and saw Geordie look skywards. He smiled. The sound of rotor blades reached Kramer. She took a half step out and saw the Merlin coming in fast, the deep roar of the three turboshaft engines reaching her now. Geordie gave her a thumbs-up signal and pointed to the pub’s car park. She nodded.
Back inside the civilians could hear the approaching aircraft, they buzzed closer to the door, and Kramer had to shout to get their attention.
“Listen up. The helicopter will come into the car park. We need to move fast but with care. No trips or stumbles. We get one go, and it has to be clean. Katy, you lead. Gregg, you and I will sweep up the stragglers.”
Kramer stepped outside. The Merlin made one fast circle of the pub and then came in hard and steep. Geordie stood at the edge of the garden, where a low chain hung between foot high posts.
“Go,” Kramer shouted into the pub. “Go. Go.”
They came out in a stream, sudden panic on their faces as the helicopter’s downdraft blew dust and loose debris across the garden. Geordie shouted at them. Katy hurdled the chain. Kramer saw the cargo bay door slide open and Tiny appear. He jumped out as the chopper settled. Gregg came out of the pub.
“All done,” his voice barely reached Kramer.
She pointed him to the helicopter and ran to the wall. The goblins seemed frozen by the size and sound of the Merlin. When she turned back, she saw chaos. Someone had tripped on the chain and they’d brought down four others in a pile-up that saw men and women struggling to untangle limbs. Geordie and Gregg hauled a couple clear. Tiny came halfway to the chaos and Kramer saw him kneel and shoot.
She went back to the wall. Goblins rumbled forward. One died to Tiny’s fire. Kramer sighted onto another and dropped it to a pile of rubble. She took out a second and glanced right. The civilians no longer formed a heap on the floor. Gregg and Geordie carried a woman with a leg injury. The others were being urged into the chopper by Katy and the loadmaster. Kramer ran as Tiny retreated, covering Geordie and Gregg.
Goblins appeared in her vision, forced close to her by Tiny. Kramer slid to a halt. They didn’t see her as she ducked behind a rhododendron bush. She stayed there for all of five seconds as the turboshaft engines spooled up.
You are not leaving without me.
Kramer replaced the magazine in her MP5A. She switched to single-shot, pulled the vegetation aside. Geordie stood on the asphalt of the car park, staring back toward the pub, searching for her. Everyone scrambled aboard, and the loadmaster seemed to think they could go. So did the pilot. Tiny and the loadmaster reached out and hauled a kicking Geordie into the cargo bay. Kramer ran at them. She headshot three goblins from behind and that gave her a gap to aim for. The others just watched her run by. One reached out and snagged her arm. Not enough to stop her but enough to make her stumble.
The Merlin rose. One metre, two metres, four and six.
Oh, fuck.
Geordie appeared in the bay door. He disappeared again as Tiny pulled him back from the edge and the loadmaster hauled the door closed.
No.
Kramer slowed and stopped, staring at the helicopter as it power climbed away from the pub. Her breath came in great, heaving sobs that threatened to tear her apart. The footfalls of the goblins came closer, making the ground tremble. Kramer turned. They seemed to smile; gross rocky smiles that chilled her heart. With every step they took towards her Kramer took a step back. She didn’t want to run. She wanted to keep them in her vision.
A shadow appeared, blotting out the sky. Noise and violence rained down as the Merlin cut in over the treeline. The goblins died as Geordie and Tiny fired down on them. Kramer ducked as the pilot turned the huge helicopter and dropped it alongside her. She dived in, Geordie grabbing a piece of her ass as the aircraft rose again and she almost slid out. Kramer scrabbled to a safe place and lay, staring up and wondering what she’d done to deserve all this. Geordie appeared in her vision,
“You looked a bit panicked back there,” he said.
“Only a bit?”
“Well, maybe a lot.”
Kramer held out a hand. “Thanks for coming back.”
Geordie grinned. “First round is on you.”
Chapter Nine
When Daisy heard the sound of the approaching helicopter, she stepped out of the stateroom that formed a temporary reception and looked up for it. The Merlin made a single circuit before landing just of out her view around the west wing of the house. She waited for a couple of minutes until the first people came into view, walking across the gravel drive and skirting the now out-of-use fountain. She didn’t know most of them and only looked out for one person in particular. When she saw her, Daisy trotted back inside, grabbed a phone and dialled a three-figure extension number.
“She’s here,” Daisy said and hung up.
Walking back to the magnificent French windows, Daisy beckoned the group to her.
“In here,” she said. “We’ve got the decorators working in the main reception at the moment.”
Everyone filed in and Daisy got a good look at people still coming to terms with the disaster down in Cornwall. Her eyes found Joanne Kramer’s and Daisy gave her a reassuring smile. One of the other intelligence officers at Sheddlestone appeared and took the civilians off to be processed and debriefed. They needed to understand that the events they had witnessed were not to be revealed to anyone. Counselling would be provided. That left four service personnel. They already knew the score. Geordie took Gregg and Katy off to the military wing of the stately home which left Daisy and Kramer standing in the stateroom looking at each other.
“Decorators?” Kramer asked. “It looked okay last time I was here.”
“A slight mishap with a replicating demon and two hundred rounds of ammunition,” Daisy told her.
“Sounds like you need more than decoration.”
“It did get a bit messy,” Daisy said. “I think the insurance bill is going to be quite high.”
They were making small talk. Daisy because Kramer looked battered and worn. Kramer, because she couldn’t bring herself to ask if Scarrett was at home. She found out when a door opened and he came into the room. Daisy made up a reason to be outside for a moment. She closed the French door behind her and leant against it.
Inside, Ben said, “You got out.”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. I need to get cleaned up.”
“I’ll come up with you.”
They walked up two flights of stairs and along arrow straight corridors to their room. Kramer walked straight into the en-suite bathroom and stood looking at the shower enclosure. When she didn’t move for a minute, Ben set the water running and waited for it to get to temperature. When he turned, Kramer had undressed. She stepped under the water and let it flow over her, washing the dirt and grit from her body and hair. Kramer remained there, dirty water pooling around her feet. She faced Ben again. He looked at the bruises and cuts that littered her skin. She just stared at him as the water cascaded down her body.
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