Mother's Boys

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Mother's Boys Page 25

by Daniel I. Russell


  “Keep still,” Johan called. “Richie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get that flashlight on. Quick.”

  He listened to the fumbling from within the wire mesh. Closing his eyes made no difference. Johan imagined how Spence must feel, out there on his own.

  The light blinked on, and the beam darted around the floor. It found Spence’s boots and rose up his body, finally revealing his face. His eyes narrowed. The beam reflected in his lenses as burning circles of light.

  “There you are,” said Johan. “Rich, find the bag.”

  The beam lowered and explored the floor. The plastic pipe appeared in the light.

  “That’s it,” said Johan. “The bag’s underneath. Spence, go and get it.”

  A figure dashed through the beam without a sound.

  Richie darted the light around.

  “I’m coming back!” said Spence, sounding on the verge of panic.

  “No,” said Johan. “Keep very still. It’s that fucking tramp again! I knew he’d follow us. If you can’t see him, he can’t see you.” He released the wire mesh. “Simon, drop it. Let’s sort this out here and now. Rich? Find the bum.”

  Holding out his arms, Johan wandered across the chamber. He aimed for the last spot he saw Spence. The light continued to drift around the room, revealing dank corners, dripping mould and skeins of rust on the walls.

  “Spence, go and get the bag. I’m close.”

  The light beam shot up one of the pillars.

  “Rich?” asked Johan and stopped.

  “I told you I heard something earlier.”

  “Just find him. He’s a retarded tramp in a striped jumper, for fuck’s sake!”

  Footsteps echoed close by in the darkness.

  “I think I’m at the bag,” said Spence. “I can feel the wall, but I can’t see it.”

  “Richie,” said Johan, “point the flashlight his way.”

  He looked back as the beam found Spence. “Spence! Look out!”

  “What?” Spence paused, his hand inches above the bag.

  Behind him, the short figure raised a knife that glinted in the light.

  “Spence! Move!” Johan cried.

  The figure whipped its arm down.

  Spence froze, face caught in the light. His mouth dropped open and a wailing scream echoed around the chamber.

  “Spence!”

  The figure behind Spence leapt and shot straight up. Somehow, it managed to turn in the darkness and dropped in from the side, feet first and pressed together. It struck Spence hard in the shoulder. He fell into the shadows.

  Bang!

  The noise boomed in the chamber.

  Hisssssssssssssss…

  That’s impossible, thought Johan. How…?

  The flashlight beam whipped around the room for a second and found another of the short creatures clinging to the wall. Suspended upside down, it grinned at Johan, showing off long and pointed front teeth.

  Oh shit, there’s two of them!

  Behind him, Richie shrieked. Darkness swallowed the creature.

  Johan struggled to remove the gun from his inside pocket. His friends yelled from the tunnel mouth, and the strange hiss continued from the corner. He looked up while his hand pulled on the gun handle.

  In the corner, the circle of light centred on him, Spence lay over the pipe. The old plastic had cracked. The back of Spence’s coat was slit down the middle. Blood gushed out and flowed over the black leather.

  “Fuck!” Johan screamed. He tugged the gun free and held it out with both hands. “Richie, find the damn things!”

  The flashlight beam slid away from the motionless Spence and slid along the shit-caked floor.

  Johan stepped back and brought the gun closer to his body. In the total darkness, one of the things could be standing inches away, ready to strike the pistol from his hand. The hissing had grown louder, and Johan smelled something other than the suffocating stench of the room.

  “They won’t be on the floor! The walls… the walls!” he yelled.

  Whimpering, Richie raised the flashlight. The light snaked across the wall. Exploring the darkness to the left revealed one of the creatures lurking on a pillar. It scuttled away with the grace and speed of a spider.

  Simon and Kev began to shout.

  “Shut up!” said Johan.

  They immediately fell quiet. Despite their hushed moans and sobs and the hiss from the broken pipe, Johan strained to hear anything else.

  “Spence?” he tried, praying that his friend would reply.

  “Mmm?”

  “Spence!” Johan cried.

  “What’s…?” He sounded dazed but alive.

  Johan readjusted his sweaty grip on the pistol. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

  “My back hurts, Johan.”

  “I bet it does. One of those bastards has a knife. You’ll be fine, Spence. Just stay there.”

  Richie shone the trembling light back on Spence. He’d straightened up some but still leaned over the busted pipe. His glasses lay cockeyed on his face. He coughed.

  “That… smell…”

  “I know,” said Johan, quickly advancing. He kept his head tilted up, expecting one of the things to leap down at any second. “Something’s leaking out of that pipe. Smells like gas,” he said, keen to keep Spence talking. “I’m nearly there.”

  Johan began to cough, too. The gassy smell overpowered the low, dank stench of shit and stuck to the back of his throat. The gun held out in one hand, he clamped the other over his mouth.

  A cry nearly made him squeeze the trigger.

  Back at the tunnel, Richie pointed the flashlight at Simon. Both he and Kev screeched.

  Simon grappled with one of their attackers, each gripping one another’s shoulders. Despite towering over the creature, Simon’s face contorted in effort. He gritted his teeth.

  The creature hadn’t held a knife after all. Sticking out from its hands, close to Simon’s face, long, hooked claws ended in sharp points, one streaked with dark blood. The creature’s face had a flat nose and severely slanted eyebrows. The pointed chin and its hair gave the face a triangular look. The protruding teeth reminded Johan of Nosferatu or one of the countless disease-ridden rats that lived down here.

  Johan aimed the gun.

  “No!” cried Kevin.

  Behind Simon, barely visible in the beam of light, the second fiend dropped down and lowered its hand in one smooth motion. It jumped and disappeared. Simon roared and dropped to his knees. The first creature slashed a claw across his face, opening Simon’s cheek, before leaping away.

  “Simon!” Johan lowered the gun.

  “Get Spence,” gasped Simon. “Before they come back.” He took a deep breath and coughed. “Get him!”

  Richie shone the flashlight over to Spence.

  Careful not to slip, Johan quickly crossed the chamber. The overpowering reek of gas hung heavy in the corner. Johan felt the gas rushing out as he passed the wide crack in the pipe. The colour had drained out of Spence’s face, and Johan wondered whether it was the halogen-yellow of the flashlight or loss of blood. He remained lurched over the pipe, spluttering and hacking.

  “Come on,” said Johan, grabbing Spence’s arm. He slung it around his neck and placed an arm around his back.

  “Aargh!” cried Spence, his body jerking.

  “Suck it in,” said Johan, his arm slipping on the blood-smeared leather jacket. He pulled Spence off the pipe. “Come on! You gotta help me here. We’re going to suffocate if we stay in here much longer…” He glanced up into the darkness. “Or worse.”

  Spence staggered against him and took a few steps away from the pipe. Johan dragged him along. Shadows jumped in and out of the light.

  Spence slipped. Johan hoisted him back up.

  “Come on, Spence!”

  He groaned but continued. “My back… it hurts too much…”

  “We’re almost there.”

  “Here!” said Simon. The
flashlight found him. Clutching the back of his right leg with one hand, he strained to lift the wire mesh with the other. His cheek was washed with blood. It flowed from the neat line running from ear to nose under his eye.

  Johan tugged Spence a little further. His boots slid on the floor.

  “I can’t hear them!” he said. “Where are they?”

  “We don’t know,” said Simon. “Just keep moving.”

  In Johan’s hold, Spence jerked to a stop.

  “Spence? Keep going! Keep moving!”

  The flashlight beam moved and illuminated Spence’s face inches away. Eyes wide, he blinked once and coughed. A thick jet of blood sprayed out and dripped from his bottom lip.

  “Spence?”

  “Oh my God!” cried Richie. “Behind him!”

  Johan looked over his shoulder.

  One of the creatures grinned back at him, hand buried deep in Spence’s back. It snapped its arm back, revealing a dripping claw, a red, glistening coil hanging over the hook. Spence wobbled and spat out another stream of crimson.

  “No,” said Johan. Spence’s body fell limp. “No!”

  Two hands shot down out of the darkness and clamped down on Spence’s shoulders.

  From the tunnel, the others screamed anew. Johan stared upwards. The creature’s eyes shimmered in the shadows. It clung to a pillar.

  “Let go of him,” Johan growled and tightened his arm around Spence. He pointed the gun upwards.

  Spence rose in the air, the creature effortlessly lifting him up. Its claws penetrated Spence’s coat and sank in deep.

  Johan wailed and, forgetting about the gun, used both hands to grab onto his friend. Even leaning back, the creature managed to pull both of them up.

  Spence jerked free and shot up in the air. His butcher knife, freed from his belt and, without a chance of use, fell to the floor. Johan fell back and landed on his hip. Pain flared down his leg.

  “No!” He held out a hand.

  In the flashlight’s glow, Spence’s legs dangled, his feet swinging back and forth.

  “Johan! Get over here!” screamed Simon.

  Johan clambered to his feet.

  Suspended above, Spence’s legs began to spasm, like a marionette dancing a jig. A wet ripping sound accompanied the dance and almost drowned out the hiss of gas. Blood poured down in abundance.

  Johan froze and stared at the scene a few feet away.

  “Johan!” Simon bawled.

  Fingers tight around the handle, Johan raised the gun. His hand shook.

  “Bastards!” he screamed into the dark. “You fucking freaks!”

  Simon continued to scream to Johan, joined by Kev and Richie. The flashlight beam darted around the chamber, flitting between Spence’s twitching body and the figure on the wall, slicing chunks out of their friend while his companion held him from the pillar.

  Lubricated by blood, Spence’s glasses slid down his nose and fell from his face.

  Johan grabbed him by the ankle, choking on the fumes.

  “Bastards!” he screamed again. The cascade of blood showered down. “Fucking bastards!”

  The creature performing the butchery glanced down and smiled. It plunged a hand into the hollowed-out body and pulled out a fist-sized lump of dripping red meat. With a chuckle, it flung the organ down. It struck Johan across the forehead and flopped off his face.

  He cried out and rubbed the blood from his eyes. Arms around his waist brought on a further bout of cries. He beat the gun handle against the hands of his attacker.

  “Let it go,” Simon yelled in his ear and tugged him away by the waist. “He’s dead.”

  “Fuckers!” Johan screamed and levelled the gun.

  “No,” Simon placed a hand on the pistol and forced it down. “You might set the gas off!”

  Simon pushed him past Spence’s hanging body and towards the tunnel. Johan flopped against the wire mesh, eyes still blurred by blood and tears.

  “Get him in,” cried Simon.

  Richie and Kev attempted to lift the metal. Achieving a few feet from the floor, they held it steady.

  Using a hand against the back of Johan’s head, Simon forced him down. Kev grabbed his arms and hauled him through.

  “Spence,” he pleaded. “We can’t leave him!”

  “He’s dead,” said Simon, crawling through. “No way could he still be alive. They’ve… they’ve fucking carved him out!”

  Something struck the wire mesh and landed on the floor with a splat. The creatures laughed, a high-pitched chatter.

  “We need to move,” said Simon. “Spence is doing us a favour keeping them occupied.”

  Johan gagged.

  “Carry him,” Simon ordered. “Quickly!”

  Kev, his face bright red and shiny with sweat, bent down and grabbed Johan. He picked him up over his shoulder.

  “Shit,” Richie murmured. “Oh shit!”

  “What?” shouted Simon.

  “Look.”

  Richie directed the flashlight beam in the corner. One of the creatures, done with carving up Spence, stood over the discarded bag, in front of the broken pipe.

  “The flashes,” said Simon and shook his head. “We forgot about the flashes!”

  In the dark, something hit the ground and the second creature joined his partner.

  Over Kev’s shoulder, Johan lifted his head. He imagined Spence’s corpse landing on the floor in a tangled mess of broken limbs, face lying in the shit. His head swam, his vision doubled.

  “Damn them,” Johan said, voice weak.

  “Move!” said Simon.

  Kev started his dash down the tunnel.

  Head still raised, Johan bobbed up and down on Kev’s wide shoulder. Richie lingered, flashlight pointed at the monsters in the corner. One of the things reached into the bag and removed one of the black, short cylinders. It seemed to frown and look to the other.

  “Run!” said Simon, tearing down the tunnel.

  Johan dropped his head, his chin striking Kev in the back. His fat friend didn’t seem to notice and carried on running down the tunnel.

  “Keep moving,” said Simon.

  Richie also fled. He shone the flashlight ahead, revealing a bend further on.

  Their frantic footsteps echoed off the tunnel walls, the sound of hissing gas more and more distant.

  “How… much… further…?” Kev gasped.

  “Keep going,” replied Simon.

  Johan lifted his head again and looked back down the tunnel.

  “Spence!”

  The end of the tunnel flashed.

  “Wha…?”

  The ground lurched.

  Kev fell, spilling Johan onto his back. Simon toppled forwards. Busy staring back, Richie tripped over him and rolled onto the floor.

  Whoosh!

  Gritting his teeth, Johan raised his head from the floor.

  The end of the tunnel had erupted into a giant fireball. Blue at the core, yellow flames licked along the walls of the tunnel, heading straight for them.

  Johan flopped back and closed his eyes.

  Got them, he thought, his mind hazy. We got the bastards…

  The hot air rushed across his face.

  ,

  31.

  Nat snapped awake, feeling the last of the tremors ebb away beneath her.

  “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Max beside her. “It didn’t feel like much. We’re right above the machine room. Maybe one of them kicked in.”

  Nat sat up and wiped her face.

  “You nodded off,” said Max. “Seemed to be having a hell of a dream, but I figured you needed your sleep.” He placed an arm around her.

  “I miss anything?”

  Max chewed on a nail. “Not much,” he said, his words slightly muffled. “It’s been about two hours. Surely something should have happened by now. I mean the twins, Jacob… how can something not have happened? They were all ready for tearing them to pieces.”

  “It�
��s a big network down there. Maybe we lost them.”

  “My brothers know the sewers better than anyone. We’ve had our entire lives to explore. They wouldn’t lose them.”

  The hatchway looked the same as before.

  “We could go down,” said Nat. She snuggled deeper into Max, enjoying his warmth. “Alcazar is in the machine room, isn’t he? It wouldn’t take long to head down there and see what he knows.”

  Max shook his head. “Watch. It started while you were asleep.”

  Nat waited, unsure of where to look.

  Her answer arrived by the flapping of wings. Seconds later a bird shot out of the hatch. It circled the open space of the warehouse before gliding out through the open door. It screeched into the night. The moment it left the building, two smaller birds flew inside. They headed straight for the hatch and disappeared inside.

  “My brother seems to be keeping an eye all over,” said Max. “I think if we were needed, he’d send a message. We should sit tight.”

  “And do what? We aren’t helping anyone just sitting here.”

  “We have to be patient,” said Max. “Play the waiting game. Hopefully, we can let them have their fun and we won’t get involved.”

  “But I thought you wanted revenge?”

  “I do, but my brothers are so much better at this than me. I can get my vengeance through them. Keeping you up here, keeping you safe, that’s my priority.”

  His hand sought hers and their fingers interlocked.

  “So, what did you dream about?”

  “I can’t remember now,” said Nat. “Something about giant rats chasing me in a maze. Weird, huh?”

  “Did one of them have white hair?” said Max, all trace of humour sapped from his voice.

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Good. Then it wasn’t a prophetic dream then.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Come on,” said Max. “Let’s give our legs a stretch.”

  They stood, still holding hands. Max pulled her in close to him.

  “Just around here,” he said. “I still want to be within earshot of the hatch.”

  They walked slowly, careful not to stand on any of the discarded wood or rope that lay scattered on the floor. Heading up the ramp that led to the raised platform, they both turned and looked out across the empty room. More birds flew into the hatch, passing those on their way out.

 

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