“I take you to where you ask to go!” he barked. His CB radio crackled violently at that point, which sent shivers down the back of Sam’s neck – she’d always hated screechy-scratchy sounds.
“Then why are you taking me out of town?!” she demanded to know. “Don’t you know where you are going?” Her finger hovered over her panic button. A voice at the back of her mind screamed, “Push it!”
“This is the right way – you look at the Sat-Nav!” he demanded. “Do you want to bloody drive? Do you?!” he shouted.
“Oh, I…” she started to apologise after looking at the electronic map. Her face flushed. “I’m sorry…I thought…”
“Please, let me do the driving!”
“Jesus, you don’t have to shout. I was just worried you were taking me the wrong way, that’s all.” She zipped her bag closed as violently as she could, which did little to stem her rage. “Fucking bastard!” she said under her breath.
He said nothing, just stared ahead with a hard gaze.
He’s going to think I’m nuts! Let him. Once I get out of this fucking car, I’m gone. History. He’ll never hear of or see me again.
When he signalled off the main road, her heart started to race once again, but then she saw a sign indicating the way to the mansion. Soon after, they turned onto a housing estate, which led to her destination.
Night has settled in fast, she thought after getting out of the car and paying the cabbie. Storm clouds had gathered above her – a rumble of distant thunder could be heard. Flickers of lightning followed shortly afterward.
“Jesus, it looks like Frankenstein’s guest house!” she said just as a crack of thunder ripped the heavens open – this gave way to fat drops of rain, which started falling rapidly. She pressed the buzzer on the gate that caused it to open for her. A static voice followed.
“Please, enter!” The tone sounded joyless.
“Wadsworth?!” she said into the speaker, but nobody answered.
Stepping through the gates, she rushed up to the house. Before she rang the bell, Samantha tried to steady her racing heart as she fluffed her hair and straightened her dress. An image of Crystal filled her mind. Her legs turned to jelly. She’ll fucking kill me! she panicked. She straightened and turned away from the door. I don’t think I want any part of this.
Before she could make her way down the steps and back to the path, the door opened behind her.
“Why, Miss Saunders, do come in. I’ve been expecting you!” a lame voice croaked. She expected a burst of harsh laughter, but it never came. “Please, step inside – I’d hate to see that dress ruined.”
Turning slowly, she was almost too scared to face the person who stood at her back. A scream lodged in her throat, but it would have been wasted, as a slim, plain-looking man smiled at her.
“You’re normal!”
“What were you expecting, Frankenstein’s monster?” he asked. She gaped at him. “Please, come in. You’re the first to arrive.” Stepping backwards, he pulled the door wide.
When Sam disappeared into the large house, the door closed. The next guest was awaited.
* * * *
Getting out of the shower, Norm slipped into a pair of clean pants and socks after towelling himself dry. He hated that sticky, clingy feel clothes had on the skin after showering. It caused him to sweat profusely, which led him to soak through a shirt or T-shirt rapidly.
In preparation, however, he’d opened all the windows in the room, which had worked a treat, as it allowed his body to cool-off before starting to dress. There’s nothing worse than trying to put socks on damp feet, he thought.
With his pants and socks on, he stood up and got his trousers on, followed by his shirt. As he did up the bottom buttons, he suddenly realised he hadn’t put any deodorant or aftershave on, and so he moved to the bathroom to do so. Once done, he finished with his shirt and moved back out to the main room.
Once there, he slipped his jacket on and pocketed his room key. Looking about, he made sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Spotting the money, he went to it and put it in the opposite pocket to his room and pickup keys.
He didn’t really know what to do with the clothes he had taken off, as he probably wasn’t going to see them again after tonight. Once I have Angharad back in my arms, I shall be taking her home. Then again, why not take everything with me – I have the pickup? Nah, I’ll need to pop back here to checkout anyway. I’ll get them then.
Happy with his choices, Norm eyed his watch and left the room. I need to get going – I hate being late.
Outside, the sky had turned dark – storm clouds were moving in. A chill stirred the night air. If the mansion wasn’t such a distance, I could have walked it, Norm thought as he trotted over to his pickup.
I can’t wait to see my Angharad…
Getting into his truck, Norm adjusted his rear-view mirror before putting his seatbelt on. Once he was ready, he kicked the engine to life, which started on the first turn of the key.
Smiling, he pulled out of the car park and headed out of town. With his Sat-Nav on and set to take him to the last place he had driven to, Norm got moving. But he was surprised at how little he needed the map’s help, as he pretty much remembered the route.
Before making the turn for the housing estate, fat drops of rain started to pelt the windshield, forcing Norm to activate the wipers. After driving through the estate, he soon came upon the mansion. The poor lighting and rain gave the old-looking mansion an eerie effect, Norm thought as he drove up to the gate’s buzzer.
“Yes?!” a voice croaked on the intercom.
“Er, it’s Jenkins, Norm,” he said, used to having to say and hear his name in reverse at the hospital. The outside world was lost on it.
“Ah, Mr. Jenkins – we’ve been expecting you!”
“Is Angharad with you?” he asked, his voice shaky with panic.
“Please drive through the gate, Mr. Jenkins. All will be revealed…”
“I’m doing no such thing! I want to know if my wife is there.”
The voice on the intercom sighed. “Mr. Jenkins, what further proof do you need? I’ve already told you she’s here – what would I have to gain from lying? Why would I break you out of a hospital for no good reason?”
“I…Er…You’ve got a point, I guess.”
“Please, drive through the gates and park at the front of the house – we’ll be at the door to greet you.”
“You said ‘we’?”
“Correct,” the voice said, irritation evident.
“Who’s we?!”
“Mr. Jenkins, please, just drive up to the house. I wish you no harm, only to reunite you with your wife.”
The intercom cut off, leaving Norm to stare at it through the now hammering rain. “Hello?” he tried, but nobody spoke back. When the sound of clanging metal filled his ears, Norm looked out the windshield – the gates were slowly opening.
Putting his hands to the wheel, he gulped and shifted the pickup into first gear. He took it slowly, as the path before him was poorly lit. The only light available shone from the windows of the mansion.
Not even the lights on this pickup are doing that much! he thought as butterflies fluttered around inside his stomach.
Deep breaths, he told himself, as he breathed in and out, in and out…It’s only Angharad and a few of her friends. But why here? Why not lead me home? His fevered mind tried to search for answers, but couldn’t. I’m sure she has her reasons.
Content, Norm parked as close to the front door as possible without hitting a wall or potted plant. Happy with where and how he was parked, Norm switched the engine off. For a moment, he just sat there and looked up at the lighted windows before him. It looked inviting.
I wonder if Angharad is behind that one? he pondered. I shouldn’t be just sitting here like a lemon! My beloved is awaiting me.
But he couldn’t move. Not yet. He found the sound of the rain on the roof rhythmic and calming. It helped clear his head a
nd saw off the butterflies. Counting to three, he closed his eyes and took in a deep gulp of air before releasing it and getting out of the truck.
He didn’t bother locking the pickup as he made a run for the stone steps leading up to the mansion’s main entrance. As he reached for the brass knocker, the door opened a crack, causing Norm to take a few steps back.
The doorway filled with a warm, glowing light, which spilled out of the house and covered Norm. He squinted slightly, but soon the bright light was obstructed, as a man filled the entrance.
“Mr. Jenkins?” the figure asked.
“Yeah…yes!”
“Would you like to follow me into the drawing room, please?”
“Wadsworth?” Norm asked, not really sure where the name came from.
“At your service,” Wadsworth said, giving Norm a slight bow.
“You’re not what I was expecting!” Norm said. He was scared. What was he doing here? Where were his doctors and nurses? He started to shake. “Where’s Angharad?”
“She’s waiting for you in the drawing room, sir. Please, step this way,” Wadsworth said, opening the door fully. “Don’t keep her waiting any longer.”
Hesitant, Norm stepped over the threshold. The door closed at his back, which gave him a start.
“My, you look a trifle wet, Mr. Jenkins!”
“Huh? Oh, I’m okay. Honestly. My wife?”
“Firstly, can I ask – were you treated well by my loyal servant Hob?”
“Er, yes…He was very pleasant.”
“Splendid. That makes two out of three happy campers!” Wadsworth said, a wide grin on his face. “Please, won’t you come through and dry off, sir? Your wife and one other are waiting.”
“I—” Norm was about to say with his hand up in the air to protest, but Wadsworth turned and walked away, causing him to follow in a tentative way – his footsteps were child-like as he followed after the well-dressed butler.
When Wadsworth reached a door in the massive reception area, he opened it and invited Norm over. “In here, Norm, please. This is where the guests will be gathering, so you can mingle before dinner.”
Walking over to the door and peering into the grand room, he could see a scrawny woman standing by a roaring fireplace. She held a glass of sparkling white wine in her bony hand.
“That’s not my wife!” Norm said. Rage built inside his guts, which knotted into a ball of fire-ice. “You said Angharad would be here!” His voice rose as he got into Wadsworth’s face, but the butler didn’t seem fazed.
“Please, Norm, calm yourself! She’s over there,” the butler said, nodding in the direction of the window.
Turning to look, Norm could see his wife in her wheelchair. She had her back to him as she watched out the window. “Angharad!” he gasped.
“I was wondering when or if you were going to turn up!”
“I wouldn’t have missed this opportunity for the world…They told me you were dead. That you were all in my mind!”
“Will you stop your sniffling and get over here? You really are quite pathetic, aren’t you? Just like all men – they need neutering. Looking after. I’m not sure little boys become anything more than little boys!”
Norm lowered his head as the other two looked at him in astonishment. “Sorry, Angharad,” he murmured as he shuffled over to her.
“And no more womanizing, you hear me?!”
“No, of course not, Angharad. You’re all the woman I need.” Standing over her shoulder, he looked down at her. Her toothpick-like body was covered with an ugly brown-yellow colour, which saddened Norm – even the substitute limbs he’d given her had withered. No hair remained on her head, which was nothing more than skull. The bone didn’t shine white, as it was mottled with an earthy radiance – her clothes were a tattered, moth-eaten mess. “Oh, my love, you have not been looking after yourself as you should,” he told her.
Behind him, Samantha spoke to Wadsworth. “What the hell is wrong with him? Doesn’t he know she’s de—”
Wadsworth stopped her in her tracks. “Please, my dear, can’t you see Norm is having a tender moment with his wife?”
Norm faced them. “Who are you?” he asked Sam.
“Er…Sam. Samantha, that is!” she said, taking a nervous sip of wine.
“All will be revealed, Norm, I can assure you – let’s just wait until the others arrive,” Wadsworth said.
“You do realise my sister and I are going to go at it, don’t you?! I plan to kill her on sight,” Sam said.
“My dear, it will not come to that – I have not gathered you so you can kill one another.”
“We shall see about—”
“I can assure you, it won’t!”
“What makes you so sure?” Sam asked.
“For a start, I will not tolerate it! Secondly, I know something about you all that you will all want to know. Secrets will be revealed!” he said, and a huge smile graced his face. “Many a surprise awaits you.”
“Norm, what the fuck is this crack-pot talking about?!”
“I have no idea, love. What do you mean, ‘secrets’?” Norm asked.
“All in good time, Norm…” Wadsworth said. “Now, would either of you like another drink? I need to check on the cook and preparations for this evening.”
“No thanks,” Sam said.
“I’ll have a beer, if you have one?” Norm said.
“Coming right up, sir!” Wadsworth said, then left the room.
* * * *
As Crystal walked through the fair with Harry tucked under her arm, people swarmed about her like flies. The stench of sweat mixed with candyfloss, frying onions and meat was overpowering her sense of smell and crushing her nostrils.
“Fuck sake, haven’t people got anything better to do than hang around a child’s amusement park of an evening?!” she uttered as people shoulder-barged, elbowed and shoved past her with excitement.
Crystal wasn’t interested in the rides, prizes, bright lights or food – all she wanted to do was get to Mr. Tickles so she could get him into the van and moving. The party would be starting in just under an hour, and she hated being last in line.
“Do you have to fucking rush?!” Harry asked. “I’m getting hit left, right and fucking centre here, woman!”
“Please, Harry, we’re almost there. I hate this shit as much as you do!”
“Didn’t you know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, love?!” someone called from the crowd. A few whoops went up around them.
“Very funny, dickhead,” she muttered under her breath.
Harry giggled.
As she continued to storm through the fairground, the big top came into sight, which gave here a feeling of relief. Not only were the crowds getting thicker the deeper she moved into the fair, but spots of rain were starting to fall.
“Fucking marvellous!” Harry said. “This rain will fucking ruin my outfit!”
“Mine too!” Crystal said as she made her way around the back of the big top and entered Mr. Tickles’ tent. The smell of incense immediately replaced that of the disgustingly mixed odours of the fairground. It was much darker inside the tent, as only a candle here and there flickered. A cold rain-laden wind blew through the opening to the tent, giving Crystal a chill. Gooseflesh prickled her arms.
“Hello?!”
In the distance, a bird screeched and beat its wings in alarm. “Intruder, intruder, intruder!” the bird yapped.
“What the fuck is that squawking all about?!” Harry bellowed.
“Who’s there?!” came a heavy voice. “Answer me, or you’ll feel the sharp side of my sword!”
“It’s Crystal!” she said.
“Who’s the man that’s with you?”
“It’s Harry!”
“I thought you said he was just a puppet?”
“He is!” Crystal protested, stepping back against the tent’s entrance.
“Show yourself, woman. Now!”
Crystal stepped out of t
he gloom and revealed her tightly wrapped body – the dragon dress had been a perfect choice for her voluptuous figure. She looked directly at Mr. Tickles, who stood at the other end of the tent with his women either side of him. As promised, he had a sword in hand. A Samurai, which made Crystal shudder.
I wouldn’t want a poke with that thing! she thought, eyeing the clown and his deadly duo. The female clown, Miss Sideshow Necrotic, stood slightly behind her master and held a hammer so big, it looked as though it belonged in a comic book.
The other one, Miss Sideshow Nightshade, AKA Parris, was also in full view. She too had a collar around her neck, with a thick length of chain attached to it. Unlike Sideshow Necrotic, Sideshow Nightshade had an eight-inch Bowie knife in her hand, with another strapped to her hip. Also unlike her colleagues, she didn’t wear a jester or clown outfit – she still had on her black busted jeans, patched leather jacket and biker boots.
“Phwoar!” Harry growled. “Dark meat, and she looks good enough to eat!”
Sideshow Nightshade bared her sharp teeth and hissed at Harry and Crystal.
“Harry!” Crystal barked. “You’ll have to excuse him, he gets rather excited around new people and er, em…women…” She let herself trail off, worried she was sounding like an idiot.
“I can’t help thinking she’s a tasty bit of arse!” Harry said, then boomed with laughter. “The other one ain’t too shabby, either.”
“Harry!”
“However, I don’t fancy yours much!” he said, then started laughing again.
“I am so, so sorry!” Crystal said. “He’s such a rude boy!”
The atmosphere inside the tent felt heavy after Crystal stopped speaking – the only sound came from the rattle of the chains that bound the ladies to their master.
Crystal gulped.
“Whose fucking mother died?!” Harry asked.
“Ha—”
“Shut it, bitch, and light me a cigar!”
Obeying Harry, Crystal lit a cigar and placed it in Harry’s mouth.
“Now, are we going to stand around here all night, bitches, or are we going to rock’n’roll?!”
Escapees and Fevered Minds Page 13