Hometown

by Luke Walker

  ‘I hate you,’ she said.

  His chin brushed her earlobe and Kirsty bit back a groan of disgust.

  ‘I know. It doesn’t matter.’

  Fully aware her words were nothing but a weak attempt at stalling him, Kirsty spoke as slowly as she could. ‘Why here? What’s so special about your school?’

  He was listening to something she couldn’t hear. Although there was only a little light in the back seat, she saw enough of his face to note the dreamy lack of focus in his eyes. Despite it, the pressure on her neck didn’t ease. An abrupt mental picture exploded in her head. Bringing her arm up, elbow smacking into Phil’s face as she jerked forward, then to her side and out the door.

  Kirsty let the image go. Even if she could move fast enough to injure him a little, he’d be out of the car and coming after her before she’d made it more than a few feet. He was fast. The bastard had proved that back in the house.

  In the rear-view mirror, she watched life slip back into his eyes.

  ‘She’s here. That’s why we are. Now drive.’

  Kirsty summoned Lucy’s little face and promised herself she’d keep it in front of her for as long as possible.

  ‘Drive,’ Phil whispered and the knife dug into her skin.

  Kirsty turned the key and drove towards the building. It loomed before her, an empty pile of bricks and windows with the occasional light stuck up high and offering no comfort. Even if there was anyone in the swimming pool, they were no help.

  She brought them to a stop right beside the edge of the pavement and killed the engine.

  ‘Very nice. And who says women can’t park?’

  Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

  The thought wouldn’t stop. It echoed as if stuck to her brain.

  ‘Okay. Here’s the deal. I get out and open your door. You try anything and I’ll cut your face. How about that?’

  Kirsty let out a sob. She couldn’t help it.

  ‘Good. What I hoped for.’

  He slid out of the car, stood straight and opened her door. The entire movement took him no more than a couple of seconds. She had time to look at the car keys still in the ignition, but not to reach for them.

  He hadn’t asked her for them. That’s how sure the bastard was she’d do what he wanted.

  Her body took over; she stepped out to the pavement and stood beside her car. He eyed her.

  ‘Fast, aren’t you?’ he said.

  Kirsty’s mouth stayed shut. Like her legs, it seemed to be acting without any conscious thought.

  ‘Come on.’

  He yanked her arm and pulled her tight against his body. The touch of his clothing, the stink of his sweat, they both pushed into her nose and mouth.

  ‘Stay close and don’t piss me off,’ Phil said.

  Moving with quick and oddly light steps, he pulled her to the main entrance. Dark pressed against the windows from the inside. Keeping her head motionless, Kirsty watched Phil scan the windows and doors. None were open, even a little.

  ‘Too much to ask for,’ he whispered. ‘Should have just driven the car right through the doors.’

  He gave her a smile and coldness enveloped her. He meant it. He actually meant they should have driven her car into the doors.

  He’ll kill me if it means getting in here.

  No argument came and that was somehow worse than the realisation itself.

  Phil pulled on her again; pain bolted up and down her arm and she bit back a shout. He took her around the side of the main entrance towards a path that led to the open grounds of the building. All of his attention appeared to be on the windows but Kirsty wouldn’t let herself seriously consider running. Not here when there wasn’t anyone else around.

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he said and spat.

  They’d reached the end of one side of the building. It opened into a wide avenue lined with young trees. Kirsty couldn’t see what was at the end of the avenue although she had an idea simply from the layout she’d often seen from the other side of the building. Cromwell Road ran alongside the far side of the building from where they stood. That meant they were close to the cafeteria.

  Phil shoved her to the nearest window. She bounced off it and stumbled. The impact winded her; she fought for breath and rubbed her chest.

  ‘Sorry.’ He smiled again. ‘My fault.’

  Kirsty found her breath and inhaled despite the throbbing in her chest and back. He pointed to the window she’d struck.

  ‘A lot of give there, was it? Old glass?’

  He stared over her shoulder, then met her eyes. A careful look had come to his face, one that said he was considering.

  A horror film image struck her as hard as it could: Phil shoving her to the glass she’d hit, bending her head by the neck and using her skull to smash his way into the building.

  It wasn’t a horror film image. It was a possibility. Right here in the shadows coating the ground of her husband’s old school, she was seconds away from having her head used as a battering ram.

  ‘The cafeteria.’ Her two words tasted like smoke. They burned. ‘It’s just down there.’

  ‘So what?’

  He glanced towards the darkness at the end of the avenue and understanding flowed into his face. Kirsty had no idea how long it had been since Phil had last been anywhere near the building but as he’d said, it had changed in recent years. The cafeteria had moved.

  ‘Glass all down one side. Windows. Big.’

  She could say no more. He was smiling again.

  ‘I like your thinking.’

  In one step, he was right next to her. His hands fell on her shoulders and spun her around to face the end of the avenue. He pushed her that way, the cafeteria rushed towards them and the moonlight shone on the glass Phil was still shoving her towards, faster and faster.

  Eighty

  Stu smashed into the door; it rattled but stayed shut. He kicked it, swearing. The door rattled again and remained locked.

  He ran to a nearby window and swore again. The room was empty. So was the next one. He span in a fast circle. They’d come to the side of the science department; wide windows stretched down to a high wall of hedges. They’d come here simply because it was the nearest section of the building. It looked as if they’d chosen the wrong area.

  ‘Where the hell is everyone?’ he shouted.

  ‘We need to get moving. Another door,’ Will said.

  Stu studied the side of the building and smacked his fist into the locked door. It was the only one he could see.

  Will ran to the next window and hammered on it. The glass shook and that was all. Will sprinted almost to the end of the block and stopped.

  ‘Fire exit,’ he panted. Stu ran to him as he squatted and pulled at the frame.

  ‘Take the top. It’s open a bit,’ Will said.

  Stu pulled at the top of the door while Will yanked at the bottom. Wood scrapped and the door slid open to expose a long corridor. Silence greeted them.

  Stu thought of the school layout and hoped the interior hadn’t changed too much since they’d last been here. Realising the mistake in his thinking, he barked tired laughter.

  ‘What?’ Will said and Stu shook his head.

  ‘In here, through home ec, then through to art, all right?’ he said.

  ‘All right.’

  They entered the school together and no voices greeted them.

  Eighty One

  Phil’s thought came over the noise of the breaking glass. Are you here?

  I’m here, she said. You’re close now.

  He punched at the last of the glass from the big window and stepped into the building. The echo of the impact shook in his head. He threw it off and gave the cafeteria a quick look. Not much to see in the dark.

  Broken glass and wood everywhere though; moonlight shining on the shards. And how long before the police arrived?

  ‘Up,’ he said. On the floor, Kirsty lay still. He bent towards her and her arm rose fast, hand extended to smack into t
he knife and her fingers were daggers aiming for his eyes.

  Phil jerked up his other hand, hit her in the cheek and she cried out. He squatted and pulled her close.

  ‘Try that again and I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk,’ he told her.

  Kirsty mewled and tried to pull back. A momentary thought came that she was faking her fear. A quick look into her eyes told him she was for real.

  ‘Up. Now.’

  He pulled her. Together they crushed glass as they moved into the wrecked cafeteria, Phil doing his best to disguise his limp. Pain filled his foot and much of his leg and he briefly wished he had shoved Kirsty through the window instead of kicking it in. Best to be safe, though. He might need her.

  ‘We’ll be there in just a couple of minutes,’ he said and shook his head to lose the last of the echoing crash.

  ‘Fuck you,’ she said dully.

  He laughed. ‘Keep your mouth shut. Move.’

  He pushed her ahead of himself but kept a hand on her arm. They took two steps further into the building and he noticed the stains on the wall.

  Pulling Kirsty close, Phil clamped a hand over her mouth. She squirmed against him and he ignored her to study their surroundings. The more he stared, the more shapes of stains were visible. Their colours were vague from the lack of light. He leaned closer to the wall and caught an unpleasant scent. He named it immediately.

  ‘Blood.’

  Kirsty pushed back against him and he tightened his grip until she was still.

  Bloodstains on the walls. He stared at the floor around them. Bloodstains on the ground, the broken glass covering most but not all. Nowhere near all.

  Phil moved backwards, dragging Kirsty with him. The shadows marking the paving slabs outside were too thick. It didn’t make sense. The moon was bright tonight, the sky cloudless. From what he could see of the grounds, almost no moonlight shone now.

  And there were broken windows.

  He stared at their surroundings.

  Broken windows. Bloodstains on the wall. The school was wrong. The school was—

  changed.

  ‘Where are you?’ he whispered.

  Here, she said. Keep coming, she said. Like you always did, she said.

  Phil grinned despite his apprehension. She always knew the right things to say.

  ‘This way,’ he said to Kirsty as if they were walking hand in hand.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked in her new voice he quite liked.

  ‘This way,’ he said again.

  They reached a long corridor and although a few windows lined it, only a little light came in. Phil gazed into the shadows and gloom. Something was wrong. Too dark. Too quiet. Where were the police sirens? Why weren’t the people who lived across the road coming to investigate the breaking windows? They had to have heard all the noise. There was simply no way they couldn’t, and this wasn’t the sort of area where people ignored things right outside their houses. For that matter, why the hell hadn’t any alarms gone off?

  He pulled Kirsty closer and listened. Nothing but the wind blowing through the massive hole they’d created. No voices anywhere.

  ‘You here?’ he whispered and Kirsty stiffened against him.

  Phil listened and heard his sister’s voice.

  I’m here, she said. Just keep coming.

  He moved on, arm rubbing against the wall and there was something unpleasant in the feel of his arm on the surface. Something like a secret whisper.

  Phil jerked his arm away and stared at it. Secrets. No time for secrets. Nothing on his arm.

  They moved on again and he heard his voice come from far away, far out of the night around the school.

  ‘You are here, aren’t you? I wouldn’t want to come all this way and be disappointed.’

  They passed a couple of doorways, the doors open wide and a little of the interior visible. Broken tables. Overturned chairs. Smashed windows.

  She murmured something he didn’t catch.

  ‘What was that?’

  I’m always here, she said.

  For some mad reason, fear made his insides squirm. And wasn’t that a joke. She’d never scared him. Never ever. Ever.

  ‘Are you ready for me?’ he said.

  Always ready.

  ‘Good. Glad to hear it. It’s been a long time.’

  Too long. Too big.

  The same fear, momentarily vanished, returned. He frowned. Too big? What the hell did that mean?

  ‘Forget about it,’ he told himself.

  They reached the end of the corridor and entered the cafeteria. The place was a mess of wrecked tables and stains on the floor.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ Phil said.

  She didn’t answer.

  Phil marshalled his thoughts. Who cared about this mess? This whole business was almost over. All he had to do was get upstairs to Block, hide from the law whenever the hell it decided to turn up and the job would be done.

  ‘Not far now,’ he said to Kirsty.

  She made no sound. With the faint illumination dropping through a skylight, Phil studied her. She’d been strong and happy and keen to help a stranger if only because doing so might have helped her husband. But that was before. That was back then. Now she was weak and scared and injured. The woman he’d met in Memorial Square was long gone. Someone new had come in her place.

  ‘Nice,’ he said and pressed himself against her. She pulled away; he yanked her by the hips and pressed against her again. She closed her eyes. Phil considered taking a break and finding a corner in one of the classrooms. It wouldn’t take long.

  Come on, she said. Hurry.

  ‘Hold on.’ Phil smiled in the dark. ‘I’m coming.’

  I hope so, she said.

  Phil smiled again and pulled Kirsty with him.

  Eighty Two

  Karen yanked on the door; it opened fast enough to smack into her foot. Not giving herself time to feel the impact, she dashed into the school and ran to the front desk, shouting as she moved.

  ‘Hey, you need to get everyone out.’

  Her words came to a halt.

  There was nobody in the reception. Chairs and desks appeared normal; there was a cup of tea on one of the desks and a bowl of fruit close to a window. But no people.

  ‘Hello?’ Karen called.

  This is wrong. Where is everyone?

  ‘Hello.’

  She raised her voice further, not caring if doing so made her look crazy. It didn’t make sense. Although she hadn’t run particularly close to any windows on the way from the field, she’d seen kids in classrooms. They’d been at their desks, working, talking to each other and probably thinking of nothing but the summer holidays. So where the hell was everyone now?

  ‘Where are we, Mick? You brought us here, so where the hell are we?’

  The answer was implacable and solid. It was like having Mick beside her.

  School, you stupid cow.

  ‘Thanks, Mick,’ Karen whispered.

  She heard, or thought she heard, a laugh touch her ear. Then nothing but her own panting breath.

  Karen dashed to the corridor which ran beside the office, shouting again. Nobody replied. She shoved open door after door, saw nobody and ran back to the reception. Sweat dripped into her eyes. Hissing, she rubbed it away and caught a snatch of children’s voices. They were moving somewhere close. Through the cafeteria.

  Karen sprinted through the reception to the connecting hallway and saw shadows on the ground at the other end. Two or three and the same number of excited kids’ voices.

  ‘Hey,’ she yelled.

  The shadows vanished around the corner.

  No time for this. You need to get everyone out.

  ‘What everyone?’

  No time to think about it. No time to chase kids through the school. She ran back to the reception and there it was on the wall close to the office window.

  The fire alarm.

  Karen struck it as hard as she could. The al
arm shrieked into life, the noise crashing around her and racing through the corridors.

  She raced from the reception, sprinting through long corridors towards the library and the steps beside it. As she passed a long window which showed Cromwell Road, she slowed, then stopped.

  ‘No.’

  Dozens of figures were in the street. The same figures that had chased them through the horrible nightmare version of Dalry. Same ragged clothes, same scarves covering their mouths, same makeshift weapons of clubs and bats.

  Karen ran again. Whoops and cheers flowed through open windows. Knowing they’d be on her any second, she threw herself into a classroom, smacked into the wall and slammed the door shut.

  She whirled around and came within a second of screaming.

  She was back in the classroom full of dead children.

  Eighty Three

  He’s fucking crazy.

  The thought wasn’t new by any means. The feel of it had been in Kirsty’s head for hours, circling in the background, but it hadn’t come to the front of her mind until now. Even after he’d revealed himself back in the house, she’d been secretly hoping that he was just mad with grief. The idea was nothing but a joke. He was crazy and she couldn’t get away from him.

  Who’s he talking to?

  She kept her eyes aimed ahead and listened to him talk to someone who wasn’t her. They moved through quiet corridors and Phil told someone he was coming, asked if they were there, if they were ready for him. Occasionally, he pressed his crotch against her. Equal parts fear, rage and disgust raced through her each time he did it, again bringing forth the image of lifting her hand and plunging her index finger deep into the soft muscle of his eyes.

  Blind him and leave him screaming and bleeding here in this fucked up school.

  Kirsty clenched her hands into fists and summoned Lucy’s face again. This was almost over. She knew it. And she wanted her daughter in her mind for as long as possible.

  Phil pointed.

  ‘Left at the end, then straight ahead. Then it’s just up the stairs.’

  Kirsty thought of her daughter and kept her eyes open.

  ‘Been a long time,’ Phil whispered. ‘But I’m ready for you. You ready for me?’

  He paused, then laughed.

  ‘Glad to hear it. Always liked you like that, sis.’