by Mike Mannion
“More magnesium ions, of course! That’s the answer,” he said with some excitement.
Beryl looked hopeful. “Are you saying you know how to fix it?”
“I think so, yes. All we need is a very subtle change to the chemical mix – the subject will be brought back the same age and with all memories intact.”
Beryl looked very please for a moment, but then her face became stern. “But you must get it right this time. We have a solemn duty to Her Majesty. She must be free of the curse. Are you really sure?”
“I am,” said Bill, who was thinking more of saving his friends than the Queen. “I must record it now. Have you a pen?”
Beryl handed Bill a pen and he turned to the page in his journal that recorded the complex chemical mix required for Feeder Jar Two. He scribbled out one part and written a subtly altered version underneath. Bill closed his journal and looked at Beryl with some satisfaction. “All done.”
“Then we shall move on to the next phase.”
“Yes Madam,” said Mordred. “I shall telephone the Taskforce at once.”
“What, pray tell, is this ‘Taskforce’?” said Bill.
Mordred went into the hall to make the telephone call.
“The Taskforce is our strong arm, our men of action. They are travelling to Underwood tonight to round up every Bane in the village. The plague of Iamia Daemonium had consumed Underwood and we must stop it before it spreads far and wide.”
Bill thought of Arthur’s parents, Ophelia, Lilith, Professor Jareth, and all the terrified people he’d seen in the village. “But what will you do with them?”
“They are to be taken to where they can do no harm.”
“Where?”
“No concern of yours! You are to go with the Taskforce and ask no more questions. You have a special job to do.”
“What exactly is this special job?”
“You are to guide the disconnection and delivery.”
“The what?”
When Underwood is cleared, and Brimstone Manor is claimed back then you will help move the cabinet.”
“You can't take it away. I intend to use it to cure everyone.”
“Your little box of tricks is a special circumstance... for Her Majesty only.”
Bill felt angry. “No! My cabinet is for everyone. Why should the Queen have special privilege?”
Beryl looked aghast. “It is not Her Majesty’s fault that she suffers so. The evil maid who infected her has been severely punished.”
“I don't care if they are rich or poor, all shall go inside.”
Beryl laughed. “How naive you are! The idea of a 'cure' is not something we even believe in, but we have our orders. You are the only person who has had the treatment and we do not know how much of Satan's blood still flows in your veins. Evil hides everywhere.”
Bill was shocked but managed to say, “But with Vita Dantis they do no harm.”
“Not all those cursed are the same,” continued Beryl. “Those infected by Lord Percy have a more aggressive hunger. Read some of the books I have at the Manor, those which record a secret history. There have been rare occasions when a pagan has been resurrected with pagan blood and governments have had to take very drastic action – the trenches of World War One massacred more than just soldiers. This type of creature is called an Iamia Daemonium and is a very dangerous thing. As he claims victims so his power grows, he can use strong and sophisticated mind control – what is called Mentem Vergentis – to make his victims do his bidding. He virtually consumes their minds. They become his army. He turns into the spirit of Satan, waging war here on Earth!”
“So that is why Lord Percy is so dangerous?”
“Of course! Underwood is full of Iamia Daemonium. Quite different from the snivelling vermin we have here in Middenmere. For many years these cowardly creatures have hidden in the shadows and taken Vita Dantis. They have been a grubby, seedy part of society for a hundred years. We have great difficulty in finding out who they are but we know they have no place in a God-fearing world.”
“I can seem them.”
“Yes, you can and that is your gift to us. You were once one of them and can see the Bestia Marcam – your fellow creatures! Over time you will help us root them out of society. This task will help redeem yourself in God's eyes.”
“But they do no harm. Professor Jareth-”
Beryl’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. “Without Vita Dantis they would consume the Earth! Who do you think manufactures all the Vita Dantis sold in Middenmere? The Apostles!”
“But I thought you want to destroy them, not help them?”
“We cannot fight an army of cursed and uncontrolled. If the city of Middenmere is turned, with its hundreds of thousands of inhabitants... we control the troublesome ones, those that choose not to take the drug, with culls or arrests. To think all these creatures could someone go into your cabinet is pure folly. They are being created faster than we could ever 'cure' them.”
“But there must be a way.”
“You possess a great scientific knowledge but are very naive.”
“But we could try. I could build more cabinets!”
“We still have no evidence that it actually works.”
“I went into the cabinet. I was cured.”
“But Bill my boy are you really cured? You can see the Bestia Marcam, no human can do that. And when you were stabbed in the gut we treated you with a paste of mashed human liver – as is the way of curing the wounds of those transformed – and your injury vanished overnight.”
Bill thought of Beryl’s words and felt a creeping horror well up inside. “So I’m still sort of cursed?”
“Your cabinet failed, but I consider it had some success – you no longer lust for victims. That is what has saved your life so far. But it has to be repaired, to work so the Queen does not become young. Do that and we will be satisfied. But be warned. The Queen will be watched closely, in case evil still lurks in the royal blood.”
There was a loud rapping at the front door.
“Ah,” said Beryl. “That will be the Inspector. You will be safe in the care of the Taskforce.” She handed him the journal. “You may need this when the cabinet is disconnected. You must help the officers. It is to be loaded onto a van and taken to Trident House. There you will repair it.”
Bill took the book. He didn’t know what to say.
Beryl smiled. “I still think of you as my young man,” she said and kissed him on the forehead. “Good luck Darling.”
Inspector Ferret came into the room, looming tall in his long brown mac. He glared at Bill with a pale earnest face that had bushy eye brows, large side whiskers and was topped with wiry ginger hair,
“Enough of the chit-chat,” he said in a Scottish accent. “We have work to do.”
He guided Bill out of the house, like a prisoner being arrested, and into the back of a pale blue Austin 1100 police car. A uniformed officer sat beside him in the back, and another sat up front in the passenger seat. Bill was shocked when he saw they were holding strange looking rifles.
“Thousands of volts. Very quick at putting them to sleep,” said Inspector Ferret when he saw Bill staring.
The car sped off and made its way through the narrow streets of Middenmere.
The Inspector got on his police radio and said, “This is Tango Three Zero, have picked up Boffin 1. All Pandas to rendezvous at Haymarket immediately.”
Bill gazed out of the window at the buildings speeding past. He had no idea where he was or what these people had planned for him. All he wanted to do was escape and find his friends. But how was he ever going to get back to Arthur? Was Ophelia at Brimstone Manor, under the influence of that foul creature?
They stopped at traffic lights and Bill looked sideways at the police officer sitting beside him. He was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, with a tight grip on his rifle, so Bill took the opportunity to reach out his arm and pull on the handle to the car door. His heart sank when h
e discovered it was locked.
As they approached a wide square the traffic got heavier but Inspector Ferret didn’t slow down. He switched on the siren and began dodging cars. Bill was buffeted around in his seat as the car swerved to and fro. He watched as a line of four police cars came into the square from another road and fall in behind them. As they headed out the square Bill could see they’d been joined by yet more police cars and a long line of Black Mariahs. By the time they’d navigated out of the suburbs of Middenmere and were travelling down a country lane they’d become a convoy.
It was now early evening but was already pretty dark, because of a low and oppressing blanket of cloud. Bill saw the red glow of the sun low behind a line of trees and noticed a light rain had begun to fall. His mouth became dry with fear.
The police convoy entered Underwood. Bill pressed his face to the window and stared. There were people out their houses, some being chased, families attacking each other and people lying unconscious by the roadside, their bodies red with blood. Bill could see halos of light everywhere he looked.
The convoy continued into the heart of the village and pulled to a halt in the square. There were more people here, lying unconscious or screaming as they were being bitten. Many were running or chasing others.
A young woman with chubby cheeks and a mess of red hair, damp with rain, pounded her fist on the glass next to Bill. Her angry yellow eyes stared directly at him. She bared pointed teeth and pounded again on the window, so hard the glass smashed. Her arm shot into the car and grabbed a shocked Bill around the throat and began to mumble a curse. She was very strong and Bill couldn’t stop her from pulling him towards her gaping mouth. He couldn’t breathe.
A policeman appeared behind her. She shouted angrily as he dragged her away from the car. Bill watched in goggled-eyed shock, clutching his throat, as the policeman raised his rifle and took aim. Something attached to the rifle by thin wires shot straight into her chest. She dropped to her knees and convulsed wildly. Bill saw her halo of light flicker. She fell slumped to the floor and the policeman picked her up and threw her into the back of nearby Black Mariah.
“Nasty business, eh lad?” said Inspector Ferret.
Bill coughed and rubbed his throat. “Is she dead?”
“That gun’s a new invention from H.Q. Shoots ‘em with a few thousand volts but doesn’t kill ‘em.”
A fat jowly man in a white apron came out of the butcher’s shop and began trotting towards them. He was red faced and angry. “Where are you taking my Jane? Get her out of that van!”
It was obvious the man wasn’t infected but he was heading straight towards the police officer with his fists clenched and a dangerous look.
“She’s not a criminal,” he bawled.
The man started fighting with the policeman. Two other officers came over and tried to handcuff the man but he was very strong.
“We haven’t got time for this nonsense,” said Inspector Ferret. “We need to get that contraption of yours out of the Manor. Now which way is it?”
Bill indicated a road across the square. Inspector Ferret nodded then got on the police radio.
“This is Tango Three Zero. We’re going for the pickup. Van One to follow immediately.”
Bill looked out of the window and was dumbfounded. Policemen were shooting their rifles at villagers and tossing them into the vans. Friends and family, who Bill could see were still human, were screaming and trying to stop the officers, but were being roughly pushed aside. Bill saw a policeman lying unconscious on the floor with blood around his face and another was trying to fight off six pensioners.
Then the cursed bikers, who Bill had seen up at the Manor, appeared in the square, riding their bikes in convoy. They drove straight past and circled the maypole, revving their engines loudly. When the bikers saw the police cars they stopped and got off their bikes. Bill could see that they were each carry a musket, which he recognised from the collection displayed over the fireplace in the Great Hall.
“Oh no!” said Inspector Ferret. “They’re armed!”
“This is Tango Three Zero,” Inspector Ferret shouted desperately into his radio. “We need reinforcements. Repeat – reinforcements. Devil’s Bane are armed, repeat, armed!”
A middle-aged woman fell on the car bonnet and screamed as her husband lunged over her and bit her face. The Inspector moved the car forward and swerved so they slid off. He spoke over his shoulder to Bill, “They’re vicious little bleeders! It’s carnage! We need to get that cabinet and off to Trident House.”
The panda car was joined by a Black Mariah and they took the road that led out of the village and into Bogmire wood. Soon they were surrounded by dark trees as they followed the lane that led to the Manor. In the rapidly fading light Bill could see six figures walking towards them. Their halos shimmered brightly in the gloomy light and their eyes were tiny pin pricks of yellow. The Inspector could see no lights so continued to drive without realising anybody was there.
“Don’t you see?” said Bill when they were pretty close. “Up ahead.” He looked again and realised it was Lord Percy and his devoted female followers – Ophelia was one of them! She was right next to Lord Percy, obviously under his spell. Bill was consumed by anger and jealousy.
Suddenly a huge dog loomed up out of the darkness, appearing as if from nowhere, bounding onto the bonnet of the car, barking loudly and gnashing huge pointed teeth. Bill’s heart froze. It was the same dog that had chased him and Arthur out of the wood behind the college. He gazed in terror at its ferocious eyes.
Inspector Ferret slammed on the brakes. The dog slid off the end of the bonnet. There was a huge jolt as the Black Mariah crashed into the back of the police car. Bill was thrown forward and hit his head on the seat in front. He felt dazed and his chest hurt.
“Stay here until we sort this out,” barked Inspector Ferret.
Bill could see blood tricking out of the Inspector’s nose. The policemen jumped out the car, each taking his rifle, leaving Bill alone. He heard a desperate shout from somewhere behind him, so looked out of the back window. It was dark and the rain was falling, so things were pretty indistinct, but the door to the Black Mariah was open and the cabin light was on so he could clearly see the huge dog inside the cabin, ferociously attacking the driver of the van. His arms were thrashing about wildly, but the dog had him round the throat and nothing he did stopped the creature’s attack.
Inspector Ferret and the two police men appeared beside the cabin door.
“We’ve got to shoot that bleedin’ thing!” shouted Inspector Ferret. He held up his rifle, took aim and missed.
One of the policemen unsheathed a knife and plunged it into the top of the dog’s hind leg. It yelped then turned on his attacker. The policeman tried to slam the door but the dog got out and began mauling the young officer. The other policeman was white faced, sweating and gasping with fear as he gazed at his partner being ripped open. A moment later he turned and ran away, disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Bill thought Lord Percy was going to chase after him but neither he nor the girls followed.
Bill could see that Inspector Ferret was panicked. Lord Percy was suddenly at his side, and Bill watched him bite the Inspector's cheek and suck his blood.
The rear door of the car opened and Ophelia popped her head inside.
Bill looked into her eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of despair. He could see no tenderness, not trace of feeling. Her lips were pursed tight and there was blood smeared on her chin. This scary, feral creature with long ears and cured horns was hardly recognisable as the girl he loved.
“Ophelia!” he stammered. “It’s me!”
“We have another one here Master, a frightened little mouse.”
“Ophelia! Please!”
Bill was filled with blind panic. He was trapped – about to be made bloody, about to drawn into the cult of Arddhu Og, transformed into one of those creatures. But then he remembered he wasn’t really Bill Blackthorne, the y
oung clueless student, he was William Whitebeam, a Fellow of the Royal Society, scientist extraordinaire. It was time to be brave and do something.
“Move back young lady, most pestilential beast, and let me out!” he said in the most commanding voice he could muster, “I demand to speak with your master, Lord Percy Valentine.”
Ophelia looked surprised but moved back. Bill edged his way out of the car. The rain fell lightly on his face and he could hear the patter of raindrops on the leaves of the trees. He heard the dog yelping and turned to see Professor Jareth pull the knife out of his leg. Lilith and Arthur’s sister stood watching, and a young girl he didn’t know.
The pagans moved into a circle and surrounded him, smiling at this little game of cat and mouse. Bill was trembling and his heart was pounding but he took a deep breath and looked Lord Percy in the eye. What he saw shocked him beyond words. The creature was barely recognisable as the man he once knew. His cheekbones had become very aquiline, his forehead was wider and contained two gnarled, curled horns and his skin was very strange, like white leather. He had grown a straggled goatee beard.
“Lord Percy, dear sir, it’s me,” stuttered Bill. “Doctor Whitebeam, your good friend from all those years ago.”
Percy curled his lip, exposing pointed yellow teeth. “Do not jest with me sir. Doctor Whitebeam was an older man, you are but a boy.”
Percy seemed to grow impatient, He turned his head and nodded at Ophelia who bared her teeth with some relish and began to creep towards Bill.
“Wait!” he said to Percy in a tremulous voice. “Don’t you want to hear about Rowena, dear sweet Rowena? I know what happened to her.”
Lord Percy held up a bony hand and Ophelia stopped. “Despite my better judgement sir, you have me intrigued. Speak now before impatience gets the better of me.”
Bill’s throat was dry and his mind was racing but he managed to say what he wanted to. “After the Apostles killed you, our dear sweet Rowena was overcome with grief. She feared for her own life so came to me for help. We went down to the Unicorn, hoping to catch the early stage to Middenmere. Unfortunately, in a fit of madness, she cursed and bit me. Then, overcome with grief at the hopelessness of life she went to the underground mausoleum in Briar Wood to kill herself. I am heartily sorry to tell such sad news.”