The BIG Horror Pack 2

by Iain Rob Wright

  Stevie snarled. “I don’t want your bleedin’ money. I came here because I thought we were family.”

  Liz laughed cruelly. “Family? That’s rich. When did you ever behave like family? All you ever do is take, take, take. Blake doesn’t want you here.”

  “Hey, hey,” said Blake, entering the room. “Don’t start making statements on my behalf.” He looked at his brother, who was trembling, but was it from alcohol withdrawal, anger, or just plain adrenaline? “Have you had a drink today, Stevie?”

  “No!”

  “Okay, then I don’t blame you for what happened. I know there’s a fox that lives in our field, and it biting Ricky is just incredibly unlucky.”

  Stevie nodded. “Thanks, bro.”

  “But I still think it would be better if I took you to the train station now. Liz is grieving and having a house guest is not helping her.”

  Liz grunted.

  Stevie nodded. Despite his eyes glistening with tears, he managed to smile. “I’ll get my things ready,” he said, then headed out into the hallway.

  Liz immediately set upon Blake. “Get him the hell out of here, right now.”

  “He’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Oh really? What do you call letting our son get mauled by a fox?”

  Blake shook his head and was about to let it go, but he found himself unable. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Liz? Ricky’s fine. Unless Stevie has picked up the ability to summon wild animals, this was no one’s fault.”

  Liz glared. “Get him out of my house now.”

  Blake turned and went into the hallway, fuming. He knew Liz was grieving, and that he was probably being an arsehole, but he’d always happily accommodated her family. Val had been no picnic, God rest her soul, but he’d always made the effort.

  Liz did have a point, though. The problem with Stevie wasn’t that he had done anything wrong. It was the fear—the almost certainty—that he would eventually. It was only ever a matter of time before an alcoholic let you down.

  Stevie had his coat on and was zipping up his holdall. It was early afternoon but the sky was a dark, foreboding grey. Blake felt guilty about not letting his brother stay at least one night, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

  “If you can just drop me at the station in Redlake,” said Stevie, “I can get a train back home from there.”

  “Sure thing,” said Blake. “What happened to your truck, anyway? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  “The old banger finally popped its clogs. Got a mate trying to fix it, but it’s probably time for me to get a new motor. You don’t want to help your brother out with that, do you? A beamer would make a nice early Christmas present.”

  Blake frowned.

  “Kidding, I’m kidding. I don’t need anything from you, bro. I just wanted to see you, that’s all. The truth probably isn’t something you’d expect to hear from me, but that’s it, right there.”

  Blake sighed. As much as he loved his brother, he was right, he didn’t expect the truth. He suspected there was something more behind Stevie’s surprise visit, but Liz and Ricky were his priority, not his brother’s myriad issues. “It’s just a bad time right now, Stevie. Any other time and we’d love to have you. We’ll arrange something soon, okay?”

  Stevie nodded, but looked like he didn’t believe it. He shouldered his holdall and limbered up. “Ready when you are, bro.”

  Blake nodded. He set the house alarm and went out onto the driveway, where he unlocked the Citroen with his key fob.

  As the two of them climbed inside, Stevie started chatting away. “You know, I don’t get it. You have all this money, yet you drive around in an ugly ass people carrier. Why don’t you get something nicer?”

  Blake flexed his hands around the steering wheel and examined the pragmatic plastic dashboard. “I like it,” he said. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s nicer than my truck, but then I’m a low-paid telecoms engineer. You’re a millionaire, according to NEWSCOM. You should be driving a Porsche at the very least.”

  “You read the article NEWSCOM did about me?”

  Stevie nodded. “Yeah, and the Guardian’s feature last year. I’m always checking up on you, big bro. Just because we haven’t hung out in a while, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you. Incidentally, you need to get a Facesnapper account.”

  Blake groaned. “Please, social networks are the bane of my life. As soon as I take the plunge with one, another opens up and replaces it. I gave up in the end.”

  Stevie shrugged. “It’d just be a nice way to stay in touch is all. Ricky’s growing up and seeing some pics now and then would be cool.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Blake started the engine. He switched on the headlights and reversed out of the driveway and onto the B-road. “I drive a Citroen because people pay attention to a Porsche,” he said. “I just want a quiet life. What is a sports car going to do for me other than make it less safe to drive my family around?”

  “You always were so rational. I tell you, if Cindy and I were millionaires, we would blow it in less than a year.”

  “Thank God you’re not, then. How is Cindy, anyway? I haven’t seen her since the wedding, and you haven’t mentioned her.”

  “Oh, yeah, she’s great. She wanted to come, you know, but I told her it would be a bit of an imposition, us both turning up.” Stevie pulled out his wallet and tugged out a crumpled old photograph of the two of them. He held it in front of the lit dashboard. “Our honeymoon in Spain.”

  Blake flicked his eyes between the picture and the road. “Yeah, I remember her. She’s a looker.”

  Stevie smiled proudly. “Ain’t she!” He went to slide the photo back into his wallet but, as he did so, another picture fell loose. Before Stevie was able to snatch it back up again, Blake saw it was of a suited gentleman getting into a posh-looking car.

  “Who’s that?”

  Stevie shoved the candid snapshot back into his wallet. “Nobody. Don’t worry about it.”

  Blake decided not to pursue it. It was none of his business. They drove in silence for a while until Blake started to feel awkward. It felt like sitting in the car with a stranger, not the brother he’d grown up with. All the nights they’d spent together, reading Beanos beneath the bed sheets with a torch while their drunken father argued with their selfish mother downstairs, seemed like they’d occurred in another life. He and Stevie had grown up together, yet they couldn’t have ended up further apart.

  “How’s work?” asked Blake, breaking the silence.

  Stevie looked out the window, even though there was nothing to see. “It’s okay. Just climbing up and down telegraph poles most days. Pretty dull.”

  “I couldn’t imagine climbing up one of those massive things; makes me sick just thinking about it. You always were fearless, though. Remember that big hill behind the supermarket where we lived? You went down it on your bike, but I was too afraid to. Upstaged by my little brother.”

  Stevie laughed. “I paid for it, though, remember?”

  Blake frowned. “No. What happened?”

  “Huh, maybe you weren’t with me that time. I went it one time and hit a brick at the bottom. Went over the handle bars and bust my lip on the ground. I buckled the wheel and Mum whipped my arse blue when I got home.”

  “No, I don’t remember that at all. You were always getting injured.”

  “I know. I was always trying to prove myself to you. The bigger the risk, the more I thought my big brother would like me.”

  “I loved you, Stevie. I always have.”

  “I know that now, but try telling that to a snot-nosed ten-year-old.”

  “Ricky reminds me of you.” Blake hoped it didn’t sound like a negative, because it wasn’t meant that way.

  “Ricky’s a great kid. Did you ever think about having more kids?”

  Blake gripped the wheel tightly and felt his chest get heavier. “Yes.”

&n
bsp; There was a brief silence before Stevie asked, “When?”

  “Liz was pregnant just before we moved to the country. We lost it.”

  “Wow… Sorry, bro. How come you never told me?”

  “It’s private. It hurt. No reason to share the misery.”

  “A problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “Sometimes a problem shared is a problem multiplied.”

  Stevie made to speak again, but Blake kept his eyes on the road and sighed. It was enough to make his brother move on from the subject. They sat in silence again until they neared the town of Redlake. The country roads gave way to floodlit thoroughfares.

  Stevie shivered in his seat. “Horrible afternoon, huh? Looks like it’s going to rain. It’s dark enough to be night.”

  Blake nodded. “It’s started to get colder the last couple days. Not looking forward to winter—gets chilly at the cottage. Maybe now’s a good time for a holiday, once everything’s sorted with Val’s funeral.”

  Stevie nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice. The only time Mum and Dad were ever happy together was when we went on holiday together.”

  “That’s because Dad could start drinking at 11am and Mum could flirt with the waiters.”

  “We had some fun ourselves, though.”

  Blake chuckled. “Yeah. Remember that time—shit!” He stamped on the brake, sending the car drifting sideways towards the ditch. He leant hard on the wheel, counter-steering against the skid and trying to keep them on the road. The car seemed to tip over slightly. There was a loud bang!

  Blake missed the clutch in his panic to emergency stop. The car bucked unhappily as the engine stalled. The wheels locked up and the tyres shrieked in protest, but they gripped the road and brought the Citroen to a stop, where it rested diagonally across the road, listing to one side.

  “Jesus sodding Hell,” shouted Stevie. “O’mother, o’mighty. I think I just shit myself. My bumhole is squeaking.”

  Blake was panting. He gripped the wheel like the bars on a rollercoaster. His heart was pulsing like a dance club speaker.

  “What happened?” asked Stevie once he finally calmed down.

  “Something ran out in front of us,” said Blake.

  Stevie frowned. “What? I didn’t see anything.”

  “I swear, it ran right out in front of us.”

  “What did?”

  Blake had to focus hard on getting the words past his lips. “A fox.”

  12

  “Bugger it!” Blake stared down at the burst front tyre with his hands on his hips. “What do we do?”

  Stevie patted him on the back. “Don’t sweat it. Nothing to changing a wheel. Open up the boot and we’ll get to it.”

  “You know what you’re doing?”

  Stevie looked at him. “Jesus, bro. How are you the successful one? Changing a tyre is easy-peasy. Let’s crack on. It’s bloody freezing.”

  Blake pressed the boot icon on his key fob and watched Stevie pull up the false floor to reveal the replacement spare wheel. “This is just a placeholder,” he explained. “You’ll have to get it changed at the garage tomorrow.”

  Blake frowned. “Isn’t it a spare?”

  “No. Manufacturers stopped putting in spares years ago. They just give you one of these crappy things, just about good enough to get you home. Can you get me the locking nuts?” When Blake looked cluelessly at him, Stevie rolled his eyes. “Seriously, big bro, you’re useless. There’s a little plastic container in the boot. Pass it here.”

  Blake located a purple container like a child’s lunch box and handed it to his brother.

  “First thing you do is find the winch spot underneath the car. You try to jack it up in the wrong place and you’ll go straight through the bodywork.”

  Stevie jacked the car up and installed the placeholder wheel in next to no time. Blake was genuinely impressed. When he checked his watch it was nearing dinnertime.

  Stevie brushed his hands together before wiping them on his jeans. “You’re all set.”

  “Let’s get back to the cottage.”

  Stevie frowned. “What about me? I need to catch a train, man.”

  “You won’t get home till late if you leave now. You’re staying in the guest room tonight and I’ll take you to the station tomorrow.”

  “You sure? What’s Liz going to say?”

  “She’ll probably give me hell, but I can hardly dump you off after you rescued me from my automotive ineptness.”

  “Think you could do a wheel on your own next time?”

  “Yeah, you’re a good teacher. Let’s get back while there’s still time to relax for a couple hours. I feel like all I’ve done today is stress.”

  Stevie laughed. “Isn’t that what you do every day?”

  “Good point.”

  They got back in the car and Blake switched on the heating full blast. When they pulled away, the steering felt a little stiffer than usual, and he wondered if it was the placeholder tyre or if the skid had done more damage than he thought.

  “So you really saw a fox, then?” asked Stevie.

  “I know, I know. After what happened to Ricky it sounds like an awfully big coincidence. I’m telling you, though, it was definitely a fox. Shot out of the hedge and almost went under the wheels. Maybe I should’ve just kept going.”

  “And crush the poor thing? Doesn’t sound like you, man.”

  “I’m beginning to make exceptions when it comes to foxes.”

  “You said you knew you had a fox on your land? Weren’t you worried?”

  “We’re in the countryside. There are foxes everywhere. I’m not going to start acting like some character from a Roald Dahl story and go nuts every time I see a wild animal. I didn’t even think foxes were dangerous.”

  “Me either,” said Stevie. “You hear about them attacking babies in the city sometime, but I always think, ‘hey, why you leaving your baby alone in the garden?’ I don’t like to blame the animals.”

  Blake nodded. “We have that in common, but things change when it’s your kid that gets attacked. If I’d have got hold of that fox right after it attacked Ricky, I would’ve throttled it.”

  “Me too. I still might if I see it. It was pretty amazing that the first thing on Ricky’s mind was whether you were going to hurt the fox or not. Kid’s got a good heart.”

  Blake nodded. He’d been surprised and a little proud that, even in pain, Ricky had found compassion for the thing that had hurt him. “I try to raise him right, to be a good man, but the truth is I don’t really need to try. He’s growing into one regardless.”

  Stevie smiled. “That kid’s going to rule the world, you’ll see.”

  “You barely know him. Sorry, that came out wrong.”

  Stevie didn’t seem offended. “No, you’re right, but that’s why I’m so sure he’s going to be something great. I fell in love with the kid after spending five minutes with him. Before the fox ruined our fun, he was teaching me football tricks. He wasn’t showing off, he genuinely wanted me to learn them, like it’d help me in life somehow. Kid’s going to be a leader.”

  “Thanks, Stevie. I hope you’re right.”

  “Course, I’m right.”

  They pulled onto the B-road, nearing Poe’s Place, and Blake saw light up ahead.

  Stevie leant forward in his seat. “Is that coming from your place?”

  Blake eased up on the accelerator. The light was bright orange and flickering.

  Fire.

  “Please, God, don’t let that be my cottage.”

  But it was. Poe’s Place was on fire.

  13

  Blake pulled on the handbrake before the Citroen came to a full stop, sending it sliding on the gravel several feet along the driveway. He was sound-minded enough to switch off the engine, but he raced towards the house immediately after. Stevie was right behind him.

  The fire was coming from the kitchen. From the driveway, Blake could see the flames crackling in the thatched roof above the anne
x. Once inside, he spotted the source. The oven was ablaze, the pizza boxes from the other night had been left on the hob and were now ash. The flames had licked high enough to ignite the ceiling. The fire was mostly overhead as Blake headed through the kitchen.

  “I’ll call the Fire Brigade,” yelled Stevie, plucking a mobile phone from his pocket.

  Blake turned on the kitchen taps and started panning water onto the flaming oven. The pizza boxes were easy to subdue, but there was no way to get at the flames taking hold of the roof. Smoke was everywhere. Bits of wood and burning flakes of plaster fluttered down like searing rain.

  Stevie grabbed a hold of Blake and pulled him away from the oven, while bellowing a plea for help into his phone. Blake fought him for a moment, but realised it was pointless. The fire wasn’t going to be beaten by one man and a potful of water. The only thing Blake could do was check on his family, so he shoved Stevie aside and headed into the main house.

  He found Liz in the family room, reclined in front of the telly. There was an empty bottle of wine beside her, along with a foil wrapper for a prescription tranquilliser. A doctor had given them to her after the miscarriage to help her sleep. It looked like she’d taken a handful, topped with the bottle of wine.

  “Liz, wake up, damn it! WAKE UP!”

  She was totally out, not even flinching at his shouts. He slapped her face and got a slight moan, but she still failed to wake. “Liz, the bloody house in on fire. Wake up now!”

  No response.

  Blake had never been as furious with Liz as he was right then, but he still loved her like hell and needed to get her out of there safely. He pulled one of her arms and managed to lift her forward. Drool escaped her lips and her eyes flickered. “Blaaaa.”

  “Yes, it’s Blake. Come on, we have to go outside.”

  “Blaa, I miyoo.”

  “You miss me? What the hell are you talking about?”

  She was gone again. Blake hoisted her over his shoulder. She didn’t weigh much more than Ricky. Had she always been so thin?