by Tim O'Rourke
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” she quizzed, taking a seat in the armchair opposite me.
“I’m not sure even if I know the answer to that,” I told her. “The world has been pushed.”
“Pushed, how?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I stared, “but I first met you a few years ago. You were studying music...”
“I’ve never studied music,” she corrected me. “I’m a pathologist. I studied medicine.”
“You didn’t have blonde hair, either,” I half-smiled at her. “It used to be dark brown.”
“I dyed it.”
“Oh,” I said. “It looks good.”
“Cut the bullshit,” she said. “Just start explaining to me why you sent those letters.”
Looking into her eyes, I could see the reflection from the flame dancing in them and I said, “Before the world got pushed, whether you believe me or not, you did use to study music. I met you at college. I wasn’t studying anything really – I was just having a good time. Then, I met you and all that changed.”
“How come?”
“I fell in love with you and you fell in love with me,” I told her. “But one night I scared you real bad and you told me to leave. So I did. But I couldn’t forget you. I loved you, Soph...Caroline. I wrote you those letters trying to explain...hoping that I could win you back.”
Staring at me, she said, “So what did you do that scared me so much?”
“This,” I said, standing and taking off the scarecrow’s coat. I rolled back my shoulders and let my wings unfold. They beat up and down on either side of me. I locked my jaw as my fangs came through and splayed my fingers to release my claws. I looked at her and this time she didn’t look scared, just curious.
12
Sophie
To see him standing before me as I had seen him in my dreams – nightmares – made my flesh turn cold. Not out of fear, but in realisation that I must have known him before - how else had I dreamt about him? Why else would I have the feelings that I did for him? I felt as if I had once loved this man, but he had died many years ago and I had moved on with my life and fallen in love with another. But he had now returned. He hadn’t been dead at all but just lost, and all those feelings that I’d once had for him – which I believed were gone – now came rushing to the front. I felt overwhelmed, but I couldn’t show him that.
Although I had feelings of love for this man who stood before me, I didn’t know him. He was like a perfect stranger to me.
“So you’re no longer scared of me?” he asked, his black wings trailing behind him.
“Do I need to be scared of you?” I breathed, unable to take my eyes off him. I remembered the dream in which I had seen him standing in my bedroom as I screamed at him to get out.
He must have sensed something in the tone of my voice or in the way that I stared at him as he looked at me and said, “You do remember, don’t you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t want to tell him I had dreamt of him. To admit to that would mean I would have to admit to the feelings that I had for him. I couldn’t do that. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening to me. I had only ever had one life, the one where I lived with my mum and dad, where I had trained in medicine, where I had fallen in and out of love with a sweet guy called Marty, who was now dead...
“You’re lying,” Potter said, as he came across the gloomy room towards me.
“I’m not,” I said, looking away. I couldn’t look into his eyes. “If what you say is true – that the world has somehow been pushed, how come I received your letters?”
“I don’t know the answer to that,” he said, stopping in front of my chair.
I could hear his breathing in the semi-darkness and the humming sound that his wings seemed to make as they beat gently together. I wasn’t scared of him, not like I had been in my dreams. I wanted to reach out and hold him, to be close to him, but I was scared that if I did, it would feel like I was holding a perfect stranger.
“You know what I say is true,” he said.
“No, I don’t,” I said back. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“And that’s why I came back to look for you,” he said. “I was hoping that you might have some answers.”
“I don’t have any,” I told him, and then added, “Where have you come back from?”
“The dead,” he said. “I was murdered – you weren’t the only woman who has ripped my heart out. I died and came back.” He looked at me. “Why don’t you look surprised by that?”
“Do you know someone by the name of Kiera Hudson?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Yes, why?” he asked curiously.
“Because she was murdered too,” I told him, my eyes fixed on his. “I was the pathologist carrying out the post-mortem on her, when she came back to life and went running into the night.”
“You mean that it was you who...”
“Yes,” I cut in. “Two others showed up and...”
“Isidor and Kayla,” Potter said.
“Who?”
“My friends,” he said. “We’ve all come back from the dead. But we didn’t come back to the world that we once knew. The one where me and you had once been lovers, where U2 was called U2 and London was called London.”
“What are you talking about?” I gasped, getting up from the chair and going to the window.
“This is not the world that I once knew,”
he insisted, following me to the window.
“So in this other world you talk about, creatures like you roamed around free did they?”
Then looking him up and down, I added, “What are you meant to be anyhow, some kinda vampire?”
“A Vampyrus, actually,” he said, sounding a little pissed off. “And besides, we didn’t just wander about – people would have stared, don’t you think?”
“They don’t stare at the wolves,” I told him matter-of-factly.
“Wolves?” he said, gripping my arm again.
“You’re hurting me,” I said, pulling free of him. “The Skin-walkers, they’re wolves that steal the skins of humans.” Then, looking him up and down again, I added, “Wait until they get a look at you.”
“We didn’t just stroll about. We lived in secret, unknown to the humans,” he hissed.
“That’s why you were so scared of me, when you saw me like this. In the world before it was pushed – creatures like me existed only in books and movies. No one must see me like this – not here.”
I looked at him and he stared back at me.
Then as if reading my thoughts, he said, “Who have you told about Kiera Hudson?”
“Is she a Vampyrus like you then?”
thinking of what Marty had told me about her blood.
“Have you told anyone?” he barked, his eyes turning even darker, if that were possible.
“I gave Marty some of your friend’s blood to test,” I said sheepishly. “I also told him her name. But that doesn’t count, because Marty is...”
“Where is the blood now?” Potter snapped, gripping my arm again.
“A cop took it from me,” I started to explain.
“Cop!” Potter growled. “What cop?”
“The one I shot,” I said, trying to pull my arm free of his claws.
“You shot a cop?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You really have been pushed.”
“He made me shoot him,” I told him, squirming free. “And he knew all about you.”
“What did he know?” Potter snapped at me.
“How should I know?” I said. “But I don’t think he liked you very much. He said you were a wise arse.”
“Did you tell him about Kiera?” he asked me, his voice sounding anxious.
“He wanted to know about the girl who had come back to life in the morgue, so I told him her name,” I said.
“You did what?”
“He made me!” I shouted at him, feeling pissed off that I was getting the blame for all of this. “He a
lready knew about her and the blood – he just didn’t know her name that was all.”
“Who else have you told about Kiera?” he breathed, his fangs just inches from my face.
“Just Marty and the cop,” I said. “But Marty’s dead now...”
“Shhh!” he hissed, covering my mouth with one of his giant claws.
Then, from outside I could hear the sound of vehicles screeching to a halt outside. With his free hand, Potter opened the curtains just an inch and a spray of pulsating blue light lit up the room.
“Cops!” he groaned.
Pushing his hand away from my mouth, I peered through the gap in the curtains. “There is another thing I haven’t mentioned; most of the police force is currently searching for me.”
“I don’t think they’re after you,” Potter said, staring down at the mass of cops below and at an ancient old woman wearing a nightgown.
“Why would the police be after you?” I asked him.
Then, as if in answer to my question, I saw the little old lady point up at the window and shriek, “That’s the pervert I caught sniffing my knickers!”
“You did what?” I gasped, stepping away from him.
“I’m not a pervert!” Potter barked at me.
“Well there’s about five or six coppers down there who think you are,” I said.
“And they’re not going to catch me without a fight,” Potter growled, spreading his wings.
13
Potter
“Empty your bag!” I shouted over the thumping sound of the cops charging up the stairs towards the flat.
“Why?” Sophie – Caroline – said back.
“Just do it!” I snapped.
She pulled the letters, some clothing, and an iPod from her holdall. Holding out the rucksack towards her, I said, “Put the stuff in here.”
“Why?” she asked again.
“Because I need you to carry the rucksack. I can’t, remember?” I said, beating the wings that hung from my back.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, understanding the point that I was trying to make.
“Have you got any money?” I asked, as the cops started to pound on the door.
“Not much,” she said, stuffing the rucksack with her belongings and my scarecrow coat. “Why do we need money?”
“If we’re going on the run, we’ll need some,” I said, racing into the kitchen.
I knew that humans often hid cash at home, usually in a cookie jar or something similar.
When I’d been masquerading as a cop, I’d been to many burglaries where money had been stolen from such a place. I threw open Kiera’s kitchen cupboards, as one of the coppers started to order from outside that I open the door before they smashed it down. I pulled cups and plates from the cupboard and there, sitting at the back, was a small jar with “Cookies” written across the front. I ripped off the lid and tipped out the contents.
“Bingo!” I shouted, seeing a roll of notes spill onto the kitchen counter. I snatched them up, put them into my jeans pocket, and raced back into the living room.
Sophie threw the rucksack over her back and looking at me, she said “What now?”
“We fight,” I said, flashing my fangs and claws at her.
“But I thought you said no one should see you like this,” she reminded me.
“Don’t worry, they won’t be around long enough to tell anyone about me,” I said. “Now get behind me!”
No sooner had Sophie ducked behind my wings, the door to Kiera’s flat came crashing in.
With my claws up and wings spread, I leapt towards the coppers who came pouring through the doorway. Whoever or whatever they had been expecting - it wasn’t me - and I saw the fear in their eyes for just a moment before I removed two of their heads with one quick swipe of my claws.
The thump-thump sound of their heads bouncing away down the stairs meant nothing to me, but the coppers who watched them roll away began to scream. Bursting onto the landing, I pin-wheeled my arms and opened up the belly of the nearest copper. There was a plopping sound as his intestines burst out of him and spilt onto the landing. The cop looked at me, his eyes wide and mouth open as if he wasn’t quite sure of what had just happened to him. Then, realising that his guts were slipping out of him, he started to gather them up in his hands. I watched as the red and pink lengths of intestines slipped through his fingers like oily lengths of rope. He then staggered forward, his feet becoming entangled in his own guts, and he went sprawling down the stairs.
Although the final copper was screaming, I realised that he wasn’t screaming in fear, but in anger. I looked at him and could see his eyes were burning a hot white-yellowy colour. The last time I had seen eyes like that was when I was staring into the face of a Lycanthrope. Before I’d the chance to react, the Skin-walker bounded towards me, shoving me back across the room. Sophie spun away from me and landed in the chair by the window. From the corner of my eye, I saw the chair upturn, taking Sophie with it. The wolf came at me again, and as it did, it began to change.
Its face almost seemed to rip apart as a long, brown snout shot out. Its shoulders and neck grew, the buttons from its shirt spraying away.
The copper’s hands tripled in size and began to turn in to giant paws as it lunged at me. The paws struck me in the chest and sent me flying backwards through the window in a shower of glass. I spun towards the ground, my wings covered in shards of razor-sharp glass and splinters of wood from the window frame.
The roof of the police car crumpled like a sheet of tissue paper as I crashed into it. There was a groaning sound from inside. The car door flew open and another cop staggered out. I shook the glass from me, and slid down the windscreen and stood on the bonnet. From above me, I could hear Sophie start to scream. Launching myself into the air, I shot upwards and back through the broken window.
The Skin-walker was clawing at Sophie as she cowered beneath the chair. Its shirt had completely fallen away now, and its back was a mass of muscle which was covered in shiny brown fur. The wolf howled and barked as Sophie scuttled away on her back like a giant crab.
Jumping from the window, I landed on the wolf’s back and slid my claws into its huge neck. It spun around, whipping its tail, desperate to throw me off. I held fast, digging my claws deeper and deeper into its throat. The wolf’s blood felt hot and tacky as it poured over my claws. I sliced my fingers back and forth, until I felt the wolf’s head come away from its hulking shoulders. It slumped forward and then rolled onto its side. I flew backwards, snatching Sophie into my arms.
Before flying back out of the window, I looked back to see that the dead wolf once again looked like a human as it lay decapitated in the middle of Kiera’s living room.
No sooner had I swooped from the window with Sophie in my arms, the sound of gun fire boomed from below, as bullets went whizzing past me. Sophie clung to me, and I looked down to see that she had her head pressed against my chest, with her eyes shut tight. Spinning through the night, I perched on the roof of a nearby house.
Setting Sophie down, I said, “Hold on, I’ll be back in a moment or two.”
“You’re joking me,” she squealed, griping the roof with her fingernails.
Back-flipping off the roof, I circled in the air and spied the last of the coppers. He was shielding himself behind the damaged police car and firing wildly up at me. Rolling back my shoulders, I sped towards the ground, cutting through the air like an arrow. I was on him so fast that he was still pulling the trigger on the gun as I swept back up into the night with his head hanging from between my jaws. I looked back to see his headless corpse twitch then wobble as it collapsed onto the ground. I spat his head away, and span around in the air. It was as I banked right in the direction of Sophie on the roof that I saw the old woman, who was convinced that I was a pervert, standing in the street below. She was screaming.
Knowing that I couldn’t leave any witnesses alive, I flew down towards her.
I landed on the pavement as she threw her h
ands up as if to protect herself from me. I walked towards her. Gently, I took her hands in mine, and I knew I couldn’t kill her. I didn’t want to kill her. Leaning in close, I could feel her trembling.
Then, placing my mouth next to her ancient ear, I whispered, “You can’t tell anyone what you saw here tonight. Because if you do, I’ll come and strangle you with those pretty knickers of yours.”
I felt her head nod next to mine, as she stifled her sobs.
“Do we have an agreement?” I asked.
“Okay,” she said, her voice steadying.
Pulling away from her and wondering what kind of life she had lived alongside these Skin-walkers, I said, “There’s a beautiful world out there – I’ve seen it – and me and my friends will push it back for you, I promise.”
Then I was gone, soaring back up to the rooftop where Sophie was now hanging by her fingernails. As I raced towards her, Sophie lost her grip and began to plummet back towards the ground. Just feet from the pavement, I snatched her back into my arms and rocketed up into the night.
“You arsehole!” she screeched, pounding her fists against my naked chest. “You could’ve killed me!”
“And here I was thinking I just saved your life,” I half-grinned at her.
“That copper was right about you,” she shouted over the sound of the roaring wind. “You are a wise arse!”
“And that’s why you fell in love with me,”
I said, racing into the clouds with her.
14
Sophie
I thought the copper who had killed the happy-zapper in the police car had been violent, but the way Potter had killed those police officers back at the flat was something else. It had been like watching a wild animal. He had moved with such speed, agility, and skill – if that’s what you could call it. He hadn’t shown any reluctance in killing any of them and somehow I got the impression that he was enjoying himself – like a lion hunting down a zebra. The animal does it out of instinct – it knows nothing else – and that’s what watching Potter had been like. But unlike in my dreams, he hadn’t scared me. If there had been another Sophie in a world that hadn’t been pushed, as Potter had described it, then I was different now. Maybe because I had grown up in a world with monsters, and I was no longer scared of the one who held me in his arms as we raced through the night sky.