Kiera Hudson & The Lethal Infected

by Tim O'Rourke

  So stomping down onto the brake, my car shuddered to a violent halt. Yanking on the gear stick, I threw the car into reverse and headed back down the road to where Nev still stood. My little red Mini shook as it wheezed and sputtered all around me. Reaching the kerb, I leant over and forced open the passenger door.

  “Get in,” I said.

  “Is it safe?” Nev beamed at me, climbing into the car.

  “Very funny,” I sighed, lurching the car forward again.

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” Nev asked, fixing his seatbelt in place.

  “Who says I’ve had a change of heart?” I smiled sideways at him. “I might have been playing hard to get.”

  “Do you want to be got?” Nev asked, a smile breaking across his face.

  “I want a friend,” I said, turning to look front. “And I don’t want to spend my birthday alone.”

  “What are you going to do?” Nev asked.

  “What are we going to do?” I said right back.

  With that smile still stretched across his face, Nev said, “I know this nice little place called The Light House. It’s a bit expensive, but I sold some paintings recently and…”

  “I’ll pay,” I said, heading out of the village. “So where am I taking you?”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, winding down the window and letting in some of the warm mid-morning air.

  “I’m heading back to the place where I’m staying and going straight to bed,” I said.

  “Sounds perfect,” Nev smiled.

  “Alone,” I told him.

  “I thought you didn’t want to be alone,” Nev teased.

  “Not on my birthday,” I reminded him with a half-smile.

  “I thought when you said you were heading home to bed it was going to be my birthday,” Nev chuckled mischievously.

  “You really are a flirt, aren’t you?” I scowled at him.

  “I try,” he said back.

  “Too hard perhaps,” I smiled. “So where do you live?”

  “This way,” he said, pointing to a narrow road that branched away to the left.

  My car rattled over the uneven road, the engine groaning. Nev gripped his seat as if fearing my car might just disintegrate into a pile of rust all about him. To drown out the sound of the labouring engine, I switched on the car radio. These Days by Take That started to play.

  “So where do you stay?” he asked.

  “The Crescent Moon Inn,” I told him.

  “Don’t you have a place of your own?”

  What did I say? That my real home was a room I rented back in Havensfield in a completely different where and when? “I’m in between places.”

  “Did he throw you out?” Nev asked.

  “Who?” I frowned, taking a narrow bend in the road at a crawl.

  “This guy,” he said.

  “No, I left,” I said. “I pushed him away. But I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Okay,” Nev shrugged.

  “What about you?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “What about me?”

  “What kind of place do you live in?”

  “Right there,” he said, pointing again through the windscreen.

  I peered in the direction he was pointing. A cottage sat back from the road. A sea of bright yellow rapeseed surrounded it. As we travelled the winding road, I could see that the cottage was made from a sandy coloured Devonshire stone. The roof was thatched and the building was squat, giving the appearance of something from a Tolkien novel.

  “That’s real pretty,” I said. “You’re lucky to live in such a place.”

  “I don’t live in the cottage,” Nev said. “I rent out the barn – the studio – that’s behind the back of it.”

  “Studio, huh?” I smiled.

  “Every artist has a studio,” he said, understanding I was teasing him.

  I slowed my car to a stop. I looked at the paved path that led up to the front of the cottage. The lawn was neatly cut and the flowerbeds were a spray of colour. “So who lives in the cottage?”

  “Mavis Bateman. She’s a widower. Her husband died a few years ago – sometime before I rented the barn – studio,” Nev explained. “I don’t pay much rent, but I do help her out around the place. She finds it hard to get into the Ragged Cove these days because of her arthritis, so I go and do the shopping.”

  “So you have a car?” I asked.

  “No,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “How did you get into town this morning?”

  “On my bike,” Nev said a little sheepishly.

  “So you’ve left your bike back in town?” I asked. “Why have you let me drive you all the way home if your bike…”

  “Because I wanted to get a lift with you, Kiera,” he confessed, his cheeks suddenly glowing red.

  “So how are you going to get it back?” I asked, feeling confused but also a little flattered by his confession.

  “I’ll walk back into town later and get it,” he said.

  Then looking at him, I said, “Where’s your crash helmet?”

  “I’d look a bit stupid wearing a crash helmet on a push bike with a basket on the front,” he said, cheeks glowing brighter still.

  “A basket?” I grinned.

  “I need something to put the shopping in,” he said. “Besides, it’s not even my bike, it belongs to Mavis.”

  “And you had the nerve to joke about my car?” I taunted. “At least my mode of transportation has an engine!”

  “Okay, okay,” Nev sighed with a smile.

  “So I take it I’ll be picking you up tomorrow night, unless you intend for me to sit in the basket,” I giggled.

  He sat looking at me.

  “What?” I asked, still trying to contain my laughter.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen you laugh since I met you,” he said. “You should do it more often. You have a beautiful smile.”

  “Thank you,” I said, now it was my turn for my cheeks to grow warm.

  Without saying another word, Nev leant toward me, planting the gentlest of kisses on my cheek. He then climbed from the car. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow night.”

  “Okay,” I said, starting the car again. “See you later, alligator.”

  “In a while, crocodile,” he smiled, waving his hand.

  For the second time that morning, I left Nev standing alone at the side of the road. But this time, I didn’t feel so bad.

  Chapter Three

  Pushing the door to the Crescent Moon Inn open, I stepped inside. It was quiet and the dining room was empty, with the last of the guests who had wanted breakfast now headed into the local countryside to enjoy the summer sun and the beautiful sights that the Ragged Cove had to offer. I still found it hard to reconcile how different the Ragged Cove was in this where and when. There was no rain, sleet, or snow. No howling wind buffeting at the eaves. The fire in the hearth lay dormant, black charcoal etched up the chimney. There were no garlic bulbs hanging above the bar, and no bottles of holy water or crucifixes for sale. Even the five-pointed star etched into the wall had gone.

  “Hey, Kiera,” I heard someone say.

  I looked up to see Phebe standing behind the bar. A leather-bound book, which I guessed was some kind of ledger, was open. Crossing the dining area, I made my way toward the bar where Phebe stood.

  “I thought you might have come straight back from Bastille Hall once we had got rid of the Leshy,” Phebe said. She spoke freely as we were alone. “Where have you been?”

  And although she smiled – Phebe and Uri always seemed to be smiling – I knew she asked the question out of more than just sheer politeness.

  “Here and there,” I said, choosing how much I would tell her.

  “Where about?” she probed, smiling again.

  “Just in the town,” I said, matching her stare and wondering what I might see beyond her constant smile.

  “Would you like me to rustle you up something to eat?” she s
aid. “Uri’s in the kitchen. I know he would be more than happy to…”

  “Thanks, but I’ve eaten,” I said.

  “Really? Where?” she came back at me. Did I see her smile falter? I couldn’t be sure. Or was I just being paranoid? Perhaps she was just being friendly. After all, Phebe and Uri were nothing like Roland and his mother who had previously owned the Crescent Moon Inn. Perhaps it was the memory of them and what had happened here before that was my problem, and not Phebe and Uri. After all, they had been nothing but welcoming and helpful to me. And they were like me. They were monsters too. We had that in common at least. But as I stared at Phebe across the bar, I couldn’t help but feel that she knew more than she was letting on. More about what, I didn’t yet know, but I’d felt that feeling before. The night I had arrived at the Crescent Moon Inn, she acted as if she had in some way been expecting me. Uri said that my room had been booked in advance, that’s how they both knew my name. But it had been more than that. It was like they already knew who and what I really was.

  “You knew I was like you,” I said.

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Kiera,” Phebe said, combing a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Her smile held in place better than her hair.

  “You didn’t seem too surprised in the woods last night when you saw my wings, fangs, and…”

  “Most of the temps the agency sends are like us,” Phebe cut in. “Some don’t work out, but most do.”

  “So how many Creeping Men are there exactly?” I asked. I’d tried to ask Uri such questions the night before, but had failed to get any real answers from him.

  “I’m not sure I can answer that,” Phebe said, closing the leather-bound ledger and placing it back beneath the bar. She took two glass bottles of Coke down from the shelves behind her. She opened them, then passed one to me across the bar.

  Picking up the bottle, I said, “Would Lois Li know the answer?”

  “I don’t know,” Phebe said, tilting back her head and sipping from the Coke bottle.

  “Lois Li runs the agency, right?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice even-tempered and friendly, like we were having nothing more than chit-chat, but I think we both knew it was more than that.

  “Right,” Phebe said.

  “Do you know how I can get in contact with her?” I asked.

  “You have a number for her?”

  “Yes, I’ve tried to call but I got no answer,” I explained.

  “Perhaps you should try again,” Phebe smiled, before taking another swig of Coke.

  I stood and watched her as I drank from my own bottle. The liquid was black and sweet. “And what if I can’t get hold of this Lois Li?”

  “Speak to Murphy,” Phebe said, nursing her bottle. “He deals with the newbies around here.”

  “Have there been any other newbies recently?” I pushed as carefully as I could.

  “They come and go all the time,” Phebe said. “I lose count.”

  “But there only seems to be me working out of the office in town – me and Potter,” I said.

  “Not everyone who arrives stays in the Ragged Cove,” Phebe said. “They get sent away.”

  “Sent away where?” I asked, wondering if perhaps I was getting Phebe to open up a little.

  “Jobs,” she said.

  “Jobs?”

  “Assignments. Investigations. Call them what you want, it’s all the same thing, really,” Phebe explained.

  “And will I get sent away?” I asked.

  “I think you’ve been partnered with Potter for now,” Phebe said. She glanced back at the kitchen door. I got the feeling that perhaps I’d misjudged her and she did want to tell me more, but was scared to do so. Scared of what I didn’t know.

  “So who am I replacing?” I asked her, stepping closer to the bar and lowering my voice just a little. “Who was Potter’s partner before me?”

  Dropping the level of her voice to match mine, Phebe glanced back once more toward the kitchen door and then back at me. “He had two. They were a pair. Brother and sister.”

  Kayla? Isidor? My heart started to race so fast, it felt as if it had shot up and become lodged in the back of my throat. “What were their names? What happened to them? Are they here in the Ragged Cove?”

  My questions came out in double time, like a series of throaty rasps. I needed to know if my friends – the two people I loved like they were my own brother and sister – were here. I would have given anything to see Isidor’s goofy smile and Kayla’s wild grin before she launched one of her ferocious attacks. What I would trade to hold them both close to me again.

  “You better ask Murphy about them,” Phebe whispered. “I’ve said too much.”

  “Please, Phebe,” I said.

  Searching my eyes, Phebe said, “Why is it so important to know who Potter was partnered with before you?”

  “I’d just like to know,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. But I couldn’t hide the sudden flush of excitement I felt at the thought that my friends might be close by.

  “Like Phebe has already said, you’ll have to ask Murphy,” a voice said.

  I looked up to see Uri standing in the now open kitchen doorway. He was wiping his hands with a cloth. Unlike Phebe, he wasn’t smiling.

  Chapter Four

  Kicking the door to my room closed with the heel of my boot, I looked across the room at the bed. It looked so inviting. I had been awake all night and I couldn’t remember a time when I felt so tired. It wasn’t just my muscles that ached with tiredness, but my head, too. Peeling off my coat, I dropped into the armchair placed by the window. Old habits die hard. I took my iPhone and headphones from my pocket. I ran my thumb over the track listings. Had I at some point uploaded the hundreds of tracks that were on the device? If I had I couldn’t remember doing so. The tracks were on the iPhone, just like the credit card in my purse, the key to the office of The Creeping Men, and Murphy’s crucifix.

  I selected Real Love by Tom Odell and went to the small bathroom with the music playing in my ears. Turning on the taps, I filled the bath with water. Stepping out of my clothes, I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror. I raised one hand before my face, and closing my eyes, I pictured myself as the creature that dwelt deep inside of me. I saw her like another person, coming forward out of the dark, placing one foot in front of the other. I flicked my wrist and my claws appeared like a set of knives. I seemed to have very little difficulty making them appear. Even though my eyes were shut tight, it was as if I was still staring at my own reflection. I saw the other Kiera come forward. Her skin was as pale and as smooth as marble. Hair so dark it shone blue about her shoulders, she came forward, lips bright red, long, black wings whispering about her heels and eyes a fiery hazel. Raising one claw, their jagged tips glistened in what looked like moonlight. I opened my eyes and looked into the mirror. And just like in the darkness of my soul, she was there. I looked like the creature that hid beneath my skin. I was that creature. She was a part of me as much as I was a part of her. We were one. Slowly I let the wings that protruded from my back engulf me like a feathered blanket. What would Nev say if he saw me now? I couldn’t help but wonder. Would he still find me so beautiful? Would he still think my smile to be as pretty on seeing my fangs? Only another creature such as me would find me beautiful. A creature like Potter. We shared the same secret. We had once shared so much more.

  With my wings, claws, and fangs withdrawing away, I stepped into the bath. With my eyes closed, I lay back in the water. It rippled over me. And however much I tried I couldn’t help but let my mind flood with memories of Potter and how we had once been. The thought of Sophie and him together was unbearable. It was like a crippling ache gnawing its way out from my core and ravishing me. I screwed my eyes shut, desperate to push him and her from my mind.

  “He’s not mine. Not here. He isn’t my Potter,” I tried to convince myself. But the tighter I screwed my eyes shut, the images of him and Sophie together flooded my mind. I
saw him kissing her like he had once kissed me – like he had kissed me in the dark in the corridor back at the offices of The Creeping Men.

  …best we forget what happened between us…I heard him whisper in my ear.

  How could he forget? How dare he? Had what we shared meant anything to him? But isn’t that what I had wanted? Hadn’t I wanted him to forget me so that he could be safe? So he could escape with the rest of my friends from that nightmare world the Elders had pushed us into? Hadn’t I wanted them to be happy? And perhaps they were. Maybe the Potter in this world wasn’t really mine. Perhaps my Potter – the one that would never be able to forget me – was in another layer. And if he was, how would I ever get to him again? How many layers were there? I could spend an eternity looking for the right one. I doubted I would ever find a doorway with a big sign above it which read ‘Kiera’s Potter this way!’

  …I don’t believe in giving people second chances. They should live with the bad decisions and the mistakes they make… I heard him whisper.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered out loud, my bottom lip trembling as I fought back the sense of loss and pain I felt. “If I could go back I would. I did make a mistake. I never thought that being without you would be so painful. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save all of you. That’s all I ever wanted – for my friends to be happy.”

  …live with the bad mistakes you make…

  And somewhere in the pit of my heart I knew that I would have to live with that mistake. But what other decision had there been for me to make? A lifetime of misery. Would it have been any more than the pain I was feeling now? I thought of the pain at seeing who I believed was Potter being beheaded in the town of Wasp Water. It hadn’t been him it had been Nik Seth, but the pain had been no less real. That pain matched the pain I was feeling now.