by Ian Woodhead
Shades of Green
By Ian Woodhead
Copyright Ian Woodhead April 2010
This eBook may not be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted or shared, without the author's written consent.
Edited By: Doree Anne
Proofed by Daz Pulsford
The monster had returned to Holburn.
This time, Alan Tyler knew there would be no respite, no second chances and no salvation. The town’s occupants had maybe twenty fours left to enjoy their safe, predictable lives.
He tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind his ear, then bit his lip, before he turned toward the bedroom window.
The dawn sun cast a soft, radiant light across the sleeping townscape. Its illuminating fingers exposed his brother’s favourite coffee shop, and Holburn’s only pet shop where his mother once bought Alan a pet hamster when he was seven. As the fat disk rose higher, he saw the postman slouch past their local supermarket. Alan gazed at his watch and forced out a slight smile; the postman might have a face like a slapped arse and an attitude to match, but nobody could fault the miserable bastard’s timekeeping.
He heard his brother moan in his sleep. Reluctantly, Alan drew the curtains. He stared at the thick, plain blue material for a moment before he strode over to Damien’s bed.
The town would carry on waking from its slumber whether he watched it or not. Even so, it would have been a comfort to see his six-year long tradition through to the end.
His family thought he spent all his waking hours plugged into his games console. Alan spent all of their waking hours doing just that, but when they were asleep he watched the town life unfold through three house windows. This one, though, was his favourite.
He hadn’t left the safety of his house for six years now, even with the onset of Armageddon that situation wouldn’t change. Alan sighed, and then pushed away a damp lock of Damien’s dark brown hair before gently placing his gloved hand upon Damien’s forehead. He wanted, no, he needed him to spend some time in Alan’s shoes. Damien’s empathy towards his older brother’s condition left a lot to be desired, not that Alan blamed the lad. He did have a life of his own to lead.
Alan closed his eyes and searched through Damien’s memories, looking for one particular scenario that he could use to convey his message. He smiled to himself when he found just what he was looking for.
“Playtime is over, little brother,” whispered Alan.
Damien was a tough little nut, he may have been only a shade over five foot six but what he lacked in height, Damien made up in breadth. Alan smiled, thinking back, before the incident, when Alan had been normal. He used to taunt Damien, telling him he’d been adopted. He’d probably survive the oncoming apocalypse more or less unscathed but if his brother failed to understand just how limited Alan’s assistance would be then the boy would surely perish.
Alan dug into his pocket and brought out a flattened disk of metal; he placed it gingerly on Damien’s quilt then used his teeth to pull off the glove. He’d probably be able to do this without assistance from that hateful artefact but Alan had to make sure he reached him. Alan grabbed the disc and squeezed it tight, and as its unearthly power surged through his soul, he pushed his other hand down and reached into Damien’s sleeping mind.
Chapter One
When Damien Tyler unclenched his gloved fist, he had to fight back the torrent of tears that threatened to overpower his already battered psyche. Apart from a few drops of sweat, his hand was empty. There’d be no point rechecking the pockets; one tour around the lining was enough. His mother had cleaned them out again.
All those random objects, each one collected to prove to other people that he was as normal as they were, gone forever. In the coming weeks he’d mourn. In particular, his half chewed caramel toffee. The look of disgust from his school friends’ faces had been far more therapeutic then any of his brain doctor sessions.
He’d have to get to grips with this disaster; otherwise he’d lock up and engage in a session of constant screaming. The objects he had expected to pull out were his two never used tissues. They would have been perfect for helping him sort this mess.
Damien kept his eyes glued to the mottled bark of the oak tree in front of him and took in a deep breath. He held the breath, then let the air out in four slow stages, just like his brother had shown him. He felt a little of the panic draining away. He performed this action twice before feeling composed enough to take another look at his previous immaculate hiking boots.
Despite wishing otherwise, the cause of the catastrophe was still there, clinging to the bottom of his boot like a squashed lump of vile, brown organic Velcro. He wanted to murder the person who had let their dog do this, choke the life out of them and then wipe his boots all over their clean clothes. If possible, he’d steal their shoes too. He’d already considered taking them off, and would have done so if he hadn’t deep in Holburn woods, three miles from home.
He placed the boot over an exposed tree root and scraped the thick of it off. He was in admiration of the amount of self-control he was displaying today. As Damien carried on with the cleaning program by rubbing the boot in a clump of long grass beside the tree, he wondered if his calm demeanour was down to his breathing exercises, but then he concluded that it was probably due to today’s company.
If it had just been him and his brother, Alan, he was sure that by this time he would be catatonic, shivering and shaking. He’d be wrapped in Alan’s coat whilst his brother gave him a piggyback ride home after either burning or burying the boots.
Today, the brothers were joined by Tony and Jennifer Patterson. Their family had moved in over the road a couple of weeks ago and Alan had been desperate to show them the local haunting grounds when he saw just how hot Tony’s sister was.
Alan had fallen in love, or lust. Damien wasn’t sure which one it was yet. He guessed that it was lust by the way that he kept dropping her name into every conversation and by describing in vivid detail just what he wanted to do to her fabulous body. Damien knew that his brother would end up with her; it was almost a foregone conclusion.
Damien wished him the best of luck, he was just glad that he now had someone else who he could hang out with who wasn’t aware of his previous history. For the past six years, the local boys hadn’t let up over their remorseless teasing over his condition. It had gotten to the point where he rarely left the house.
Alan had put a lot of effort into persuading Damien to come down to the woods today. Damien wasn’t an idiot. The main reason was to keep Tony occupied so Alan could get her alone. If last night’s stories were anything to go by, he was still no closer to getting her mobile number.
Tony wasn’t his friend, he didn’t have a clue how the lad would react in Damien’s presence. The uncertainty lodged fast when Alan asked and begged him to accompany the group. While his brother and Jennifer skipped off together, he’d be stuck with the big lad. No doubt, Tony would want to climb trees and build dams, activities that were now alien to Damien. How long would it take before the first barbed comment erupted from Tony’s mouth? The first insult would definitely lead to a continuous stream of horrible put downs, they always did. Damien would not be able to cope with that level of aggression.
When Alan had gone downstairs after failing to persuade him, even after promising him two new games, he clicked his bedroom door shut and wandered over to his book-case, determined to forget about Alan’s pleading as soon as possible. He ran his finger along the titles of his extensive collection of video games, looking for one that would keep him amused for a few hours.
When he heard the outer door open, he looked out of the window. Tony and his sister stood there. With her grey suede ankle boots and tight black jeans, she looked adorable but it
wasn’t what Damien would class as rugged outdoor wear.
From out of the blue, his little used teenage hormones cooked up a scenario that didn’t seem all that fantastical.
Maybe Tony and Alan would want to climb trees and build dams. He’d be able to keep Jennifer company; they might end up holding hands, even kissing. Damien tried not to look down her top.
His mother followed Alan out. Jennifer asked where Damien was. That made him smile, she remembered his name, and then his mother ruined it all by explaining that Damien wasn’t good with dirt. Damien grabbed his hiking boots before opening his bedroom door and rushed down the stairs.
He was so engrossed in the removal of excrement from his footwear, he failed to notice the ragged breathing and looming shadow until it was too late.
When he felt the sharp prod on his shoulder, Damien jumped and spun around. He tripped over his own feet and fell backwards into a pile of damp leaves, his hand missing a long streak of dog shit by millimetres.
“Have you gone deaf, guy?” asked Tony. “I’ve been calling your name for ages.”
Damien lifted one leg to show the remains of the stuff on his boot.
“That’s just wrong.” Tony shook his head. “Look man, your brother’s wondered off with our Jen. He said something about showing her the den. Where’s he taken her?”
He grabbed Damien’s arm and hauled him up out of the leaves. Damien’s mind was close to locking up, he now had decaying plant matter contaminating his clothing, and those leaves could be infested with maggots or beetles or even spiders. He threw that thought out straight away, if he got started on spider thinking than he’d be no use to anyone.
“Is there anything on my back?” he said.
Tony brushed the leaves off the back of his jacket. “Do you know where this den is?”
He nodded. There was no way that Tony would have given his back a thorough brushing down but he didn’t want to upset him by checking. The tight weave of his blue denim jacket should prevent most many-legged monstrosities from burrowing through the fabric.
Talk about stuck between a rock and a hard place. He really wanted to calm Tony down, explain to him that his darling sister would be safe with Alan. The lad’s face was caught between hope and anxiety, and he looked to Damien for answers.
What an odd sensation, to have someone rely on him instead of the other way round, it made him feel useful. Bollocks to Alan, he was supposed try and keep Tony occupied for at least half an hour. Well his brother’s thirty minutes had just been shortened.
He grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”
Damien felt proud of how he was acting in this situation, despite knowing Alan would be a little pissed off for not keeping the worried brother at bay, his brother would forgive him when he told him he’d fallen in dirt and was only a little bit bothered. Alan would be dead proud.
Damien led him towards where he thought his brother would have taken Jennifer. It had nothing to do with playing in a den.
Holburn woods had just one stain to its character. Six years ago, three young boys had come to play in here. One had been found screaming hysterically and the other two were missing. They had never been found.
Alan guessed that the Patterson’s wouldn’t have heard about the local legend just yet so he’d suggested using the word as a code to tell Damien where he had really gone.
“How far is it now?” Tony asked.
The far side of the woods backed onto a huge apple orchard. It was fenced off; even in the tourist-rich, low-crime haven of Holburn the farmers weren’t idiots. They knew how much damage a horde of local kids could do to their potential cider crop. Alan wasn’t an idiot either, he knew of more than one way through the fence and he also knew that it was the best place in Holburn to bring a girl to impress.
At this time of year, the branches were covered in tiny white flowers, drifting down and carpeting the floor. Perfume filled the air when crushed under foot. Alan informed him that the girls loved all that romantic nonsense. Considering the smouldering looks she was giving him before they entered the woods, Alan was expecting more than just a mobile phone number from her.
Damien froze, his eyes fixed on what was next to his foot. Tony, who wasn’t looking where he was going, stopped short of walking into him.
“What’s up?”
Damien found himself unable to speak, he just pointed down. If he hadn’t been checking the ground before putting his feet down, he’d have walked straight past it. Tony leaned over and followed Damien’s finger.
“Holy fuck! It’s someone’s ear!”
Damien crouched down for a closer look; Tony muttered a curse while going through his trouser pockets. Had Tony’s mum cleared out his pockets too? Tony then grinned and pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking a photo of it.” he replied. “This is so cool.”
Damien had no idea how anybody could find a piece of disembodied anatomy to be cool. A group of small black ants clustered around the torn flesh, proving to Damien that this was genuine.
He was about to ask Tony what to do with it when he heard the phone fall to the floor. Damien spun around, but Tony was nowhere to be seen. The phone had landed into a pile of dead twigs, the handset still open. He picked it out of the twigs before standing up. He assumed that he was hiding from him.
Tony’s disappearance thrust to the back of his mind when he saw the devastated landscape in front of him. Bracken, heather and bushes were flattened down creating a six-foot wide path up the embankment. That wasn’t like that a minute ago. The floor along the path was thick was ants. They appeared to be floating on a river of crimson sludge.
Tony stood at the top, the sludge coming up to his knees. Hundreds of black ants had rampaged up his legs onto his jumper and travelled towards his face, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Damien minded; he minded a lot. He had no idea what was going on nor did he wish to. All he could focus on was all those tiny little animals crawling into his ears and mouth. A barely human howl burst from Tony’s mouth.
The phone fell from Damien’s hand and he stepped back, almost losing his balance when he stood on the ear.
Tony waded through the red muck towards Damien. The black shape started to fill out then began to change shape, becoming more dog like.
Damien turned around and raced towards the apple orchard, sprinting through the trees and hoping whatever Tony had turned into wouldn’t chase him. Damien was very upset and confused. He needed his brother.
A wild shriek echoed through the woods, bringing him shuddering to a halt. That came from in front of him. The thing behind him howled again; the noise seemed closer, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he could hide here, the foliage screened off the rest of the woods. He cocked his head, trying to listen for any noise other than the sound of his heart trying to beat its way out of his ribcage. If it was following him, he’d be able to hear the snapping of twigs and undergrowth being torn aside - it didn’t strike him as being a subtle creature.
He took in a lungful of air, held it, then let it out in five short breaths. The last one exploded out of him. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He wanted to go home, he wanted his brother and he wanted his Xbox. He was too confused to care about anything anymore; he slumped down on a tree-stump, sobs wracking through his chest.
Damien had no idea how long he’d been sat on that stump. It could have been minutes or even hours. He lost all sense of time when his brain decided enough was enough and called time out. The sun had moved position, resting on the hills, instead of above him.
When he stood up, he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from screaming out in agony. The top half of his legs felt like they were on fire. He must have been here for ages, his whole body ached from having been still for so long.
It had been many months since he’d had an attack of that magnitude. His memory was fragmented, all jumbled up. What he could remember didn’t gel.
He
’d feel better once he got home, perhaps everything would click into place when he was in familiar surroundings. A little sleep after a hot chocolate sounded brilliant. If it was as late as he thought it was his mother must be worried sick. He wondered where Alan was.
The pain in his legs had almost gone and the aches in the rest of his body had receded into the background. He turned around in a tight circle, trying to get his bearings. He didn’t have a clue where he was but wasn’t that alarmed. Holburn Woods wasn’t large; all he had to do was to find a footpath, and they all led to exits. He saw where he must have come in; the ferns had been trampled down.
The woods were silent, except for the occasional bird song and the creaking of branches. Damien had second thoughts on whether this was the way out or not when he was confronted by a dense barrier of heather. That creaking noise was beginning to unnerve him now. He wasn’t going to be defeated by a load of stupid plants. He must have come this way; the stuff must have sprung up again, concealing his way in.
He parted one of the plants and glanced down, he couldn’t see anything suggesting that he’d trampled through this but now he didn’t care. This was the way he was going to go and that was that. He lifted the first leg and dropped it into the heather followed by the other one. He was now surrounded by green foliage, unable to see his legs and feet.
There could be any number of creepy crawlies ready to jump onto his clothing and he wasn’t bothered one bit. He was almost tempted to take his gloves off. He took a couple of steps and was relieved to see the edge of a council made designated path just in front of him.
A flash of white caused him to look up. There was something moving back and forwards through the trees like a pendulum.
He stepped out of the heather, shook the bits off his jeans and stood on the path. He was tempted to ignore it. If he hurried, he could be home in less than an hour, safe in his bedroom with a game-pad in his hand and trying to clock his latest game: Biogenesis 4 on his Xbox.