Dead Night

by Tim O'Rourke

  Then, from not too far away came the sound of howling, and we all turned to look at each other. At first I wondered if it was just the wind screaming up the hill. But as it got closer, I recognised the sound to be that of wolves.

  18

  Sophie

  Something wasn’t quite right and it wasn’t just the sound of the wind howling around the tumbled down farmhouse. Potter and this police officer – if that’s what he really was – seemed to be convinced that Marty had been killed by one of the Skin-walkers, staring into his eyes, hoping to find out what he had discovered while testing Kiera Hudson’s blood.

  But as they stood and tried to convince me, my flesh turned cold, breaking out in tiny goose bumps. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the sound of someone chuckling.

  Then they spoke, as if whispering into my ear.

  “Oh, Sophie,” the voice said.

  Then, like a broken reflection in a cracked mirror, I saw a long, pointed face looking back at me. His cheeks and eye sockets were sunk deep into his face, like caves. He wore a navy blue baseball cap on his head and a red bandanna was tied about his scrawny throat. But it was his eyes.

  They burnt in his face, like two seething suns.

  Who are you? I whispered, inside my mind.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he smiled back, his lips a twisted scar. “You won’t remember me.”

  Then he was gone, snuffed out like a light bulb inside my head.

  Murphy was shouting at Potter again.

  “Help me wedge this against the door!”

  he roared, nudging a woodworm-infested cupboard across the room with his dodgy hip.

  Potter lifted one end off the floor and pressed it against the door. Then, looking at the guy with the pipe hanging from his mouth like a child’s soother, he said, “I don’t want to piss all over another one of your plans, Sarge, but a few armchairs and cupboards aren’t going to stop those wolves.”

  “Got a better plan?” Murphy shouted over the sound of the howling and the barking that was growing ever closer outside.

  “Well anything’s got to be better than this,” Potter snapped back, pointing at the flimsy-looking cupboard they had pushed against the front door.

  “What’s wrong with my plans?” Murphy asked, yanking the pipe from the corner of his mouth and staring at Potter.

  “Well, for starters, what about when you had us dress up in disguise at Hallowed Manor...”

  Potter started.

  “That was a great plan,” Murphy cut in.

  “It would have worked if it hadn’t have been for you!”

  “For me?” Potter said in disbelief.

  “You wrapped bandages around your head for fuck’s sake! That was never part of the plan!” Murphy roared, as the howling grew louder from outside. “Jesus, you were prancing about the place like the Invisible Man on crack!”

  “I’ve never done any crack,” Potter shot back.

  “Yeah?” Murphy said. “You could’ve fooled me.”

  With the sounds of snarling and howling just outside the door, I stared in disbelief at Potter and his friend and said, “Are you two going to stand there bitching at each other all night long or -” but before I’d the chance to finish, one of the chairs that Murphy had placed in front of the window flew across the room in a shower of glass.

  Unable to stop myself, I let out an ear-piercing scream as a giant black snout poked its way through the window and sniffed at the air in the room.

  As if I hadn’t made a sound, Potter pointed at the splintered armchair, and looking at Murphy, he said, “See, I told you it wouldn’t work.”

  The wolf forced its colossal skull through the window, tearing out the frame in a shower of brick and dust. Thick lengths of foamy, white drool swung from its jaws as it howled in fury. Working its claws through the hole it had created, the wolf tried to scramble into the farmhouse. Moving so quickly that he seemed like a blur, Potter shot from where he had been arguing with Murphy and was now attacking the giant wolf.

  Potter’s claws were like a set of knives as he slashed and ripped at the wolf. The creature howled in agony, and its breath was so strong that my hair blew back off my shoulders. From the foot of the stairs, I watched as Potter wrestled with the beast as it fought its way into the room. I glanced at Murphy as the front door began to shake in its frame. The sound of crashing was deafening as the wolves outside threw themselves against the door, desperate to get at us. Murphy stood before the door, and I watched with my mouth open wide as he slowly unbuttoned his police shirt, and placed it neatly to one side. I had called him a granddad, but in fact, with his shirt off, he looked anything but. His body was pale and slender, and what meat he did have on him was toned with muscle. He had the body that any twenty-year-old guy could only dream of having.

  I glanced back at Potter, who was now on his back, kicking upwards at the gnashing jaws of the wolf. “Any time you feel like joining in will be fine with me,” Potter yelled at his friend.

  “Aren’t you going to help him?” I shouted, unable to believe that Murphy seemed more interested in folding his shirt.

  “Just got to kick off the old slippers,”

  Murphy said, sucking on his pipe.

  The front door was now hanging from its rusty hinges, and the sounds of the wolves’ claws scratching against wood panels filled me with fear.

  I glanced at Potter; the wolf had managed to work one of its boulder-sized shoulders through the window and it was now swiping at Potter, who still lay on his back, driving the heel of his boot upwards into the jaws of the beast.

  If Murphy seemed to be taking his time in helping Potter, I knew that I just couldn’t stand by and watch him fight for his life. Spinning around, I looked for anything that I could use as a weapon. I spied the broken armchair and raced across the room, and gritting my teeth together I wrenched free one of its legs. It came away in my hand, jagged and sharp, looking like a giant stake.

  Now that the wolf had its head just inches from Potter, I got a true understanding of the size of it. Its head was as big as a bear, but it was sleeker looking and its eyes blazed yellow. Its ears pointed upwards and silver whiskers sprung from its dripping snout. Charging across the room, I brought the stake up above my head; then, with all my strength, I sliced it down through the air in a sweeping arc and buried the splintered point into the top of its skull. There was a crunching sound as the wolf’s skull fractured. Gripping the stake with both hands, I forced the splintered chair leg deep into the wolf’s head. Blood jetted from its nostrils in thick, ropey streams and splattered the floor. The wolf jerked its head left and right and made a howling noise deep in the back of its throat.

  Seeing that the wolf was panicked and in pain, Potter leapt to his feet, burying his fangs into the wolf’s throat. The wolf paddled its mighty claws in the air as it frantically tried to knock Potter away. But with every swipe, it began to lose strength until it finally fell still, hanging half in and half out of the window like a blood-stained rug.

  Potter withdrew his fangs from the wolf’s throat, and wiping away the blood and fur from his chin, he looked at me and said, “Thanks.”

  I pulled the stake from the beast’s head, and as it came away, it made a sickening squelching sound that made me want to puke.

  Standing by the window with blood dripping from the jagged tip of the chair leg, I watched the wolf shrink in shape and lose its fur as it returned back to its human form. The body that now lay bleeding on the floor was that of a young female. It was difficult to tell exactly how old she had been, as by removing the stake from her head, a loose piece of scalp had fallen across her face. Her naked skin was smooth and creamy white and I guessed she couldn’t have been too much older than myself.

  Before I’d had any chance to feel pity for the human woman that she had once been before being matched with the wolf, the front door exploded inwards in a shower of razor-sharp splinters. I spun around to see Murphy fly backwards into the stairs, t
he banisters snapping like matchsticks. Before Murphy had even hit the ground, a set of black leathery-looking wings sprung from his back. With a set of fangs and claws that a prehistoric monster would have been proud of, Murphy launched himself at the wolves that were now scrambling over one other, desperate to get inside the farmhouse.

  Potter saw the wolf before I did, and with a sweep of his arm, he set me spinning backwards towards the fire. With the heat of the fire prickling at my skin, I watched the wolf clatter into the wall, where I’d been standing only moments before.

  Dragging myself to my feet, I watched as both Murphy and Potter set about the wolves as they charged through the door. They moved with such lightning speed, that it was almost impossible to see them. They became nothing but a series of shadows as they flitted about the room. Clumps of wolf fur and flesh sprayed up into the air and stuck to the wall like jelly. With my stomach lurching, I watched the lumps of meat slowly slide down the damp-ridden farmhouse walls and splat onto the floor in raw-looking piles. The howling, barking, and snarling filled the room, and it was so loud it was like someone had cranked up the bass.

  Their growls vibrated off the walls and made me tremble.

  Through the haze of blood and shadows, I caught fleeting glances of Potter and Murphy as they hacked, sliced, and bit their way through the wolves. Despite their constant bickering they now worked as a team – a team that had trained hard together over many years. It was almost like each would anticipate the move of the next. Potter would lunge one way, as Murphy kicked and ripped in the other. For the first time that night, Murphy didn’t look or act like some old grandfather with his pipe and comfy slippers. As I watched him fight, I realised that Murphy was a sleek predator, designed to kill, as was Potter.

  As the butchery continued all around me, a wolf broke free of the fight. It rolled onto the floor before the fire, and I couldn’t tell which burnt more fiercely, the hissing knots of wood, or the wolf’s eyes. Spotting me, the wolf rolled its foaming pink tongue around its snout and came towards me. With his ears pinned backwards, he snarled and leapt into the air. I raised the stake before me, but I was too slow, and the wolf pawed it from me. With the window behind me as my only means of escape, I gripped the arms of the girl hanging half in and out of the window and pulled. There was a tearing sound, as her stomach snagged on a shard of glass that stuck from the window frame like a broken tooth. With the wolf snarling at my heels, I hoisted the dead female from the window, where she rolled across the floor to the wolf. Smelling the fresh blood, the wolf paused and dragged its fleshy pink tongue across the loose flap of scalp that still covered her face.

  Throwing my hands to my face, I watched as the wolf buried its snout into the opening of her skull and began to lap up her brains.

  Unable to watch, I knew that while the wolf paused to feed, I had a few precious moments in which to make my escape, so I scrambled out of the window. The cold night air hit me like a slap in the face and within moments, my nose had started to turn numb. From inside the farmhouse, I could hear the continued roars and snarls as Potter and Murphy continued to fight the wolves. Now that I was free of the farmhouse, I looked around for somewhere to hide. The moon was high in the sky and made the long grass shine as if it had been sprayed with silver. On the other side of the farmhouse I could see the silhouette of the burnt-out barn. Then, there was a scratching sound coming from behind me. I glanced back to see the wolf who I’d escaped from leaning out of the window. Its snout glistened in the moonlight, smeared with the brains of the dead Skin-walker.

  It sniffed the air; then, as if finding my scent on the wind, it turned and looked at me with its seething eyes. Howling, it bounded from the window and raced towards me.

  Blind with panic, I screamed Potter’s name as I raced away from the farmhouse and back along the coastal path that weaved its way down Black Hill. My heart felt as if it were going to explode in my chest as the long, brown coat and tree-hugger dress flew out behind me and I raced along the path. The sound of the wolf’s breathing thundered behind me, and I started to cry with fear. With my arms working like pistons, I raced forward, drawing in lungfuls of icy cold air. I wanted to scream for Potter again, but I just couldn’t draw enough breath into my lungs.

  The wolf was so close now that I felt its teeth snag at my dress, and I stumbled forward.

  That was all that the wolf needed, and I felt the weight of its paws on my shoulders as it dragged me to the ground. I lay there waiting for its ferocious jaws to sink into me, when suddenly it felt as if it had disappeared. I rolled over in the grass to see the wolf soaring away from me and up into the sky. Screwing up my eyes, I just caught sight of Potter and his pointed wings as he dragged the wolf upwards and away from me.

  “Run Sophie, run!” Potter roared.

  I staggered to my feet and not knowing in which direction I was heading, I just ran. With the sound of the wolf howling high above me, I raced across an open field. The ground was uneven, and I stumbled and fell as I made my way across it. In the distance I could see a slate stone wall.

  Believing that it would offer me a place to hide, I headed towards it, all the while the wolf barking and woofing overhead as Potter fought with it.

  I reached the wall, and hitching up my dress, I scrambled over it. I found myself standing on a hard surface, completely different to that of the field that I had just raced across. I looked right and could see that I was standing in the middle of a narrow country road. I glanced left, and that’s when I saw the car bearing down on me. It was swerving left and right, but before I’d had a chance to dart out of its way, it hit me and I was spinning through the air. Then everything went black.

  19

  Potter

  The wolf’s blood sprayed into my mouth and it was hot and sticky. It dribbled off my chin and splashed onto my chest. It made one last swipe at me with its claw, which swished over my head. Thrusting my claw into his chest, I gripped its beating heart and popped it. With it twitching in my arms, I ripped out its heart and watched as it spiralled away from me back towards the ground, its tail jerking from side to side. Throwing its heart over my shoulder, I looked into the distance to see Sophie racing away into the dark, and I went after her.

  With my wings folding backwards, I lost altitude and skimmed just inches above the field towards her. The wind snagged at my hair, and as I sped towards her, I saw Sophie scramble over a wall that lined the edge of the field. Glancing to my left, I saw two cones of bright light racing through the dark and the sound of a car engine revving at speed. I looked back at Sophie and saw the danger she was in. I opened my mouth to call her, but before the words had even worked their way up my throat, the car struck her. As if in slow motion, I watched Sophie cartwheel over the bonnet of the car and land on the road with a sickening thud.

  “No! ” I roared, bracing my wings, and landing in the field on the opposite side of the wall from where Sophie now lay motionless in the road.

  The car screeched to a halt, and I started over the wall. Then, I was grabbed from behind and thrown into the ditch.

  “No, Potter,” Murphy growled in my ear.

  “You’ll be seen.”

  “I have to help her,” I hissed, pushing him away from me.

  “Look!” Murphy snapped, pointing over the wall as he crouched behind it.

  On my knees, I peered through the brambles and nettles that lined the wall. A man climbed from the vehicle and walked back up the road towards Sophie’s body. He lent over the body, as if examining her. Then, the passenger door flew open and a teenage girl staggered onto the road. She fell to her knees, and then losing a shoe, she stood and weaved her way up the road towards the man and Sophie. I could see that the young girl was pissed.

  “They’ll help her,” Murphy whispered.

  “Now let’s go.”

  “I can’t just leave her,” I said.

  “Potter, we can’t risk being seen,” he snapped at me.

  “I can hide my wings and claws
. I could look like one of them.”

  “We can’t risk being seen with or without wings. It won’t be long before more Skin-walkers come and find the bloodbath that we’ve left up at that farm,” Murphy insisted. “If these people see us, then they might...”

  “I’ve got to help her,” I told him, looking into his bright blue eyes.

  “Find a way of pushing the world back,”

  Murphy said, “and you will help her. None of this would ever have happened, and Sophie will go back to being that young woman who was studying music, the woman who ignored your letters...”

  “But can we push it back?” I asked him, desperate to know the answer.

  “I don’t know,” Murphy stared back at me. “But we’ve got to try. Not just for Sophie’s sake, for all of our sakes.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, as the man on the other side of the wall started to shout at the drunken girl.

  “Let me show you,” Murphy whispered, as he started to crawl away from the wall and back towards the farmhouse.

  “But Sophie...”

  “If you want to help her, we need to push back,” Murphy said over his shoulder.

  I glanced one last time over the wall, but Sophie’s lifeless body was hidden from me by the man and the drunken girl who stood over her.

  There was a part of me that was glad I could no longer see her. I didn’t want to remember her lying face-up in the road, her arms and legs splayed at unnatural angles from where the car had crushed her body. Turning away, and hoping Murphy was right about being able to help Sophie by pushing the world back, I followed him up the hill.

  Careful not to step in the fur-covered remains of the wolves that Murphy and I had slain, I made my way across the living room. I snatched up the rucksack that I had taken from Kiera’s flat.

  In it, I found one of Sophie’s dresses, her iPod, and the letters that had somehow seeped through into this world. Holding them in my hands, I looked at Murphy and said, “I sent these to Sophie before I died and came back.”