The Haunting of Peligan City

by Sophie Green

  Nedly looked panicked for a second but Lil continued. ‘I think that might be our only shot. Agreed?’ He nodded reluctantly. ‘All right then.’

  Trying to stay as small and quiet as possible, she crept out into the workshop, rolling her feet across the boards so they didn’t creak. She reached the poppet and bent down, taking hold of the little bell between her finger and thumb, and very slowly lifted it off the ground by its topknot. She held it dangling at arm’s length, like a bewitched and filthy sock, then carefully started to retrace her steps backwards to the shelves.

  Then she froze. Underfoot was something soft, something that had gasped when she trod on it. Lil knew with a terrible sense of foreboding what it was – she remembered seeing it there; she used to have one herself. Froggy the Gremlin, a smiling rubber frog in a dinner suit with a squeaker in its belly. Trapped where she stood, Lil tried in vain to lift her foot slowly from the toy without letting the squeak out too, but there it was, a tiny whining cry that cut through the air like a siren.

  Lil cut her losses, shot back to the shelves as quickly as possible, and joined Nedly by the paint pots.

  ‘He heard you!’

  Lil puffed out her cheeks. ‘I didn’t squeak him on purpose!’

  Neither of them took their eyes off the empty black doorway, but only Nedly could see what stepped into it.

  ‘He’s here.’

  Lil’s pulse started hammering her throat. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, gulping. ‘I’ve got the poppet.’ She gave it a quick shake and the bell sounded through the silence, sharp as a knife blade. ‘Grip,’ she said in her firmest voice. ‘Get back to bed.’

  She gave Nedly a sideways glance but he just shrugged fearfully. ‘Do you hear me?’ She shook the poppet again, more viciously this time. Its horrible head lolled about on its shoulders as the little bell tolled. ‘Go to sleep!’ Lil shouted.

  The front door slammed shut and then opened supernaturally fast and then slammed again over and over. Its glass window cracked and then it smashed and the shop bell tolled like a maniacal alarm. On the sixth time the door stayed open.

  Lil hunkered down behind the bench. Nedly joined her.

  ‘Why isn’t it working?’ She glared at the bead-eyed poppet, at its horrible straight slash of a mouth, and then shook it again.

  ‘Something’s changed.’ Nedly peered round the side of the workbench at the ghoul in the workshop and then he looked back at the poppet in Lil’s hands and turned as white as a sheet. ‘It’s the poppet,’ he whispered. ‘It’s not controlling him any more. He’s free.’

  It took Lil a minute to fully understand. ‘But … but if he’s not bound to the poppet, then how do we stop him?’

  Nedly blinked at her. ‘I don’t think we can.’

  Without warning the workbench shot away from them and then came back at triple speed. Lil folded her arms over her head, braced for impact but Nedly managed to flip it at the last minute so instead it came at them legs first, creating a shield for them to cower behind.

  It was just in time. Grip began firing all he could at them; spectral winds whipped around carrying everything that had once been on the walls and pelting them with it, but the bench held strong.

  The banging from downstairs started up again and went on and on, growing faster like a racing heartbeat, and joining it were shouts and yells. Lil’s heart swelled at the sound. She knew that her mum and Abe were trying to draw Mr Grip away from her, to divert his attention. But it was too late for that.

  The workbench strained away from them, juddering, but Nedly held it fast, his hands glowing fiercely, fingers splayed and trembling with the effort. Lil yelped as a cuddly teddy bear clambered over the wooden barricade, its features twisted into an angry scowl. She grabbed it by the paw and hurled it back over.

  ‘Why doesn’t he come nearer?’

  ‘I … I suppose … if he’s not bound to his poppet any more, then he’s vulnerable. He can’t be called back. If … if anything happens to him, that’s it.’ Nedly was thinking hard, still holding the bench. ‘He needs to be sure he can win.’

  Lil’s eyes widened. ‘So, if you beat him, that’s it – he’s finished.’ She ducked out of the way of a china doll as it hurtled past.

  A volley of miniature cars rained down on them like metal hailstones. Lil grabbed the lid from one of the nearby bins and held it over her head like an umbrella without a handle. ‘Listen, he’s not stronger than you, Nedly. He thinks he’s all-powerful because he frightens people to death, but I’m not scared of him, and neither are you.’

  Nedly’s eyes gaped, wide and dark as manholes. ‘But I am.’

  ‘No, you’re not. He’s nothing. You’re a hero – you saved Abe from the fire, remember; you squished this guy into a ball last time. You can beat him. I know you can.’

  ‘Can I?’ He gulped uncertainly and then hardened his eyes as he added, ‘I’ll try.’

  Lil’s leg had started shaking. ‘Even if we wanted to, have we got time to run?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Anyway, we can’t; we couldn’t leave Mum and Abe.’

  ‘I won’t leave them,’ Nedly assured her. ‘I won’t let him past.’

  He stood up and stepped forward through the bench, his slight figure burning brightly. He called back over his shoulder: ‘If you get the chance to get away – take it.’

  ‘I’m not leaving without you.’

  ‘You have to. It’s too late for me,’ Nedly yelled over the crashing and shouting from downstairs and the debris flying through the air.

  ‘Don’t!’ Lil yelled back at him. ‘Don’t ever say that.’

  He looked back at her again and grinned sadly as the debris rained through him. ‘But it is. I’m already dead, remember.’

  Lil squinted through the storm of sawdust and bear stuffing. She saw Nedly walk forward. As he moved he shook down his arms, like he was trying to get loose of something, and his hands started to glow more fiercely, the light growing until they sparked and shone like he was holding on to flares. He held them up in front of him, chin down, head low.

  The image of Grip from the newspaper flashed uninvited before Lil’s eyes: the black hair dragged forward into a blunt short fringe, the flat lifeless eyes, the thin slash of a mouth. Sweat made her shiver. Peligan City’s most notorious serial killer going hand to hand with an eleven-year-old boy.

  Nedly pulled his fists back and Lil saw him punch at something, one fist after the other, landing blow after blow and then one, an uppercut, hit the spot because the spectral wind dropped for a second and the toys that were held in it fell to the floor.

  Nedly ran forward, his face screwed up and determined. He jumped, but hit something mid-air, as if an invisible brick wall had sprung up when he was already in flight. Lil watched him slide down it and crumple. Stunned and shaking his head, he scrambled backwards.

  He’d almost made it to the workbench when he was yanked back and skidded across the floor, being dragged by something that suddenly whipped him into the air and shook him violently, and then it hurled him so fast and hard against the wall of shelves that all the jars on it exploded, raining glass, paintbrushes and dolls’ eyes all over Lil.

  Nedly lay there, balled up on the ground beside her, while all around ice grew on the plastic hair of the dolls, frosting the fur on the teddy bears and stiffening the silk pyjamas of the harlequin clown. A drawer sprang open and a clutch of jack-in-the-boxes leapt out at Lil, who smashed them away with the bin lid. The banging and shouting from downstairs grew even more frantic, but it was almost drowned out by the terrible clashing of the monkey’s cymbals and the low whirr of clockwork limbs as they moved back and forth. The china-faced dolls’ heads all turned.

  He’s stronger, Lil realised, without his poppet.

  ‘You can’t beat him,’ she yelled. ‘Stay down.’

  Nedly, doubled up on the floor, held his hand out to Lil. Their fingertips touched, softly like snowflakes, and even though he was crumpled up his body began
to glimmer.

  Then there was a crash and scraping across the boards and a toppled cabinet hit the wall opposite. Grip was having fun.

  ‘He knows he’s got us trapped,’ Nedly whispered.

  ‘Not you,’ said Lil quietly. ‘Just me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You should go; you’re the only one who can get out. Go, and get help. He’s after you; maybe if you go he’ll leave.’

  Nedly scrambled into a crouch beside her. ‘What if he doesn’t?’

  ‘Then we’re no worse off than we were.’

  ‘No!’ Nedly shook his head, panic crossing his face. ‘I’m not leaving you.’

  ‘You can’t stop him. He’s too strong.’

  ‘Neither can you.’

  ‘But you can get help.’

  ‘Who from?’

  Lil shrugged helplessly. ‘You’ll think of something.’

  Nedly shook his head. ‘Please don’t ask me to go.’ His eyes had teared up.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Lil said. ‘You did everything you could.’ Nedly’s body was trembling, flickering in protest, but Lil stood her ground. ‘Beat it, I said.’ She raised her voice into a shout, ‘Go on, get out of here!’

  Nedly just had time to give her a furious look, and then he vanished.

  Chapter 27

  The Ghost in the Machine

  Lil was alone.

  She pursed her lips. Nedly hadn’t abandoned her, she told herself. He was getting help. She poked her head round the workbench to get a proper look at the path she would have to take to get to the door, and then recoiled quickly as a savagely hurled rubber bunny dealt her a glancing blow. The door seemed so far away. Grip wouldn’t toy with her for long. As soon as he realised that Nedly had gone he would make his move.

  She sat with her back to the workbench while a barrage of doll parts broke against it, her hair stuck to the cold sweat on her forehead. She took a deep breath and tried to slow her heartbeat down. Fear was getting the better of her, stopping her from thinking straight. She tried so hard to swallow it. She wrapped her fingers round the pencil stub in her mac pocket and gripped it tightly. She had to make a run for it. With her free hand trembling uncontrollably, she picked up the bin lid again and held it against her shoulder.

  The workbench juddered violently like a pressure cooker about to blow. Suddenly it skidded away across the floor, pivoting on one leg as it smashed against the adjacent wall, leaving Lil with only the bin lid for cover.

  So this was it. Mr Grip knew she was alone. The game was over. Sick with dread, Lil drew herself up to her full height. Chills rippled her skin. Her heart was hammering in her chest. The toys stopped clattering their hands and spinning their heads and all turned to look at her while the spectral wind, carrying dust and wood shavings, whipped at her hair, blinding her as she took one step forward.

  An almost life-sized doll with long plaits and a tam o’shanter burst out of a cupboard and marched towards Lil, stiff arms and legs, lifeless eyes and lips in a pout.

  Lil gripped the pencil in her fist tightly and took another step towards the door and then another. There was a huge crash from the basement.

  The temperature was dropping again and the room was emptied of any remaining warmth. Lil could feel it being sucked away.

  ‘Nedly, where are you?’ she whispered. The pencil in her fist snapped, she felt the unmistakable touch of freezer burn on her throat and then, shockingly, a sweaty hand grabbed hers and swung her back. And there was her mother, standing in front of her, just as the tam o’shanter doll threw itself at Lil. Naomi swerved to block it and the doll’s hard plastic feet caught her above one eye, smashing the lens of her spectacles.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelped, using her sleeve to wipe away the blood that trickled down ‘Where did that come from?’

  Margaret skittered in and Abe staggered behind her. He was covered in crumbled plaster like a flour-dusted ogre, his reddened eyes blinking and chest heaving.

  Naomi squinted into the dark and dusty air. ‘Where’s the goon?’ Lil felt her mother’s arm tighten round her and hold on fast. With her other hand Naomi rootled around blindly and found the claw hammer, which she wielded like a bat.

  ‘Out there.’ Lil pointed towards the door. ‘He ran away.’

  ‘Good.’ Naomi nodded frantically for a second and then said, ‘What about the other one, Grip?’

  Lil’s breath plumed out before her as she whispered, ‘He’s still here.’

  The air turned arctic, so cold that it hurt to breathe. A fear began in Lil’s belly, growing quickly, spreading out its tentacles and wrapping itself around her bones.

  Margaret glared at a spot on the other side of the room. Her back fur punked up, her ears pinned back, and her little body was shaking. Her whole face was wrinkled up with the effort of baring all her teeth at once, trying to look more frightening than frightened. Abe followed her gaze and the colour drained from his face. He could feel what he couldn’t see. He laid his hand on the first thing it came to, a hard plastic doll with a shock of sandy curls, and brandished it.

  Lil flashed a sideways glance at him.

  ‘I just feel better with something in my hand,’ he muttered. ‘Where’s the kid?’

  ‘Gone to get help. I told him to.’

  Abe frowned at her in disbelief. ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘What do we do about what?’ Naomi looked askance at them. ‘There’s nobody here but us.’

  Lil couldn’t make her mouth speak, the words got trapped somewhere in her throat. She pointed, following Margaret’s stare.

  ‘Is he hiding?’ Naomi asked. She let go of Lil’s hand.

  ‘Naomi, wait! No!’ Abe tried to grab for her, to pull her out of Grip’s reach but Naomi was already striding ahead. Suddenly she stopped and raised her hand to her throat as panic and confusion hit her face.

  ‘NOOOOOO!’ Abe roared as he leapt forward.

  There was a blinding light, glass smashing and wood splintering as something huge crashed through the front entrance, annihilating the door and most of the shop window.

  Powerful magnesium headlights cut through the clouds of dust. The glass from the shattered window twinkled sharply. For a moment the only sound was the ticking of a cooling engine and then the zip of a sliding metal door.

  Three figures in white hazmat jumpsuits with helmets that looked like welders’ masks emerged cautiously and began crunching their way over the broken toys, trampling plastic heads underfoot. The headlights glanced off their reflective orange visors as they passed in front of Abe, Lil and Naomi, who were frozen in surprise. Margaret fled to her safe place by Abe’s shoes and sat on one of them.

  The jumpsuited figures stood in a line at what used to be the front of the shop. In their gloved hands they held what looked like consoles with roaming antennae.

  Lil saw the few remaining dolls on the shelves glance sideways to watch them.

  ‘Watch out!’ she shouted, but the jumpsuits’ feet were firmly planted, their fingers engaged with pressing buttons on the consoles – all except the middle suit, who held up a single finger as if to say ‘Watch this!’

  They flicked a switch and a net of green luminous laser light appeared, covering the whole room in a shimmering grid. Lil, Abe and Naomi all backed away as far as possible from the green rays that flared as they reached eye level.

  The finger went up again, the angle of it seeming to suggest ‘Don’t move!’, and they froze. The grid flickered over surfaces, casting the room in an eerie green light.

  ‘What’s happening?’ hissed Lil.

  ‘Beats me,’ replied Abe.

  Naomi still seemed to be in shock.

  They stared at the grid, hypnotised by the lines that sliced through the air. Lil squinted as she tried to focus on one area where the lines were broken, a dark shadow on the grid. The light blinked over the object it had located. Something man-shaped.

  Grip! thought Lil. They can see him.

  There was some excitable
elbowing going on and then the middle jumpsuit stepped forward. The dark man-shaped mass was moving ahead, blocking out the gridlines, rippling through as it passed them.

  The jumpsuit twisted a dial and the squares on the grid got smaller, the matrix contracted, focusing on the area where Grip was. The hum increased, the grid tightened and Grip’s movement became more erratic, thrashing as if trapped.

  The jumpsuit ratcheted it up a notch. Abe picked up Margaret and he, Lil and Naomi retreated as far as they could as the three figures moved forward as one, their net tightening. There was a high-pitched whine, like an electrical tone, and Margaret howled along to it. The whine got louder, the grids got smaller and then another noise joined the whine, an echoing cry of rage. Then – zoowp! Like a net being reverse-sprung, Grip, the grid, everything, was sucked back into the box and there was silence.

  Nobody moved.

  The ambient temperature rose a few degrees. The jumpsuit with the box inspected it carefully; it was leaking a thin black smoke, which smelt of sugar puffs and ammonia. After a few moments they gave a stiff nod of their bulbous glass-fronted heads and the tension seemed to snap like an old rubber band.

  One of the other suits yelled, ‘Whooop!’ and the third replied with an even louder ‘Whooo-hoooop!’ and threw a punch at the air. One gave a clumsy attempt at giving the others a high-five, and then a three-way hug that involved lots of awkward back slapping.

  Finally a jumpsuit took the box and disappeared with it into the back of the van. Then the other two began picking up material from the floor and stuffing it into hazardous waste bags and scanning it all with a device that looked like a hair-dryer, while the third reappeared and sprayed some kind of gas out of a canister over any toys that were still on the shelves.

  Lil, Naomi, Abe and Margaret still stood there, unmoving in the dust and rubble. No one spoke to them. It was as though, at least as far as the jumpsuits were concerned, they weren’t really there.