“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really. At least, not just yet.”
Her heart was still racing and, dream or no dream, she still had that rancid taste in her mouth. Spotting the mug on the mantelpiece, Lisa pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed it. The coffee that she’d made for Ben earlier was untouched. It was also, she swiftly discovered when she swallowed a mouthful, stone cold. Lisa put the mug back down and then turned her wrist so she could see her watch. “Oh shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Ben looked startled.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Pretty late.”
“It’s nearly three-thirty.”
Which meant she must have been asleep for at least four hours. For all she knew Alison could have tried to ring. The police might have called, only to give up when they failed to rouse anyone. Lisa put her hands to her face and massaged her eyes, guilty and angry with herself for not staying alert. She felt tightly coiled, ready to snap. Even though she knew what was at stake she had stupidly let her guard drop.
“You okay?”
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
Ben reached out to touch her elbow.
Lisa jerked away. “Don’t.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ve been awake all the time.”
“You have?” Lisa had assumed it was her screams that had woken him up.
“You dropped your mug.” Ben smiled and indicated where he had placed it on the floor at the side of the chair. “Hours ago. Frightened the shit out of me. I couldn’t go back to sleep so I just sat there, just in case … you know. But nobody has called and the police haven’t turned up yet. I’d have given you a shake if they had.”
Some of the tension drained out of her. “Thanks. I must have needed the sleep. And sorry I was sharp with you just then. I hadn’t woken up properly.”
“Guess the police must still be busy with that train crash.”
“I expect so,” Lisa said. “But that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Any chance of that coffee now? Seeing as you drank mine.”
Now it was Lisa’s turn to smile. She was still worried sick about Alison but she appreciated his attempt to lift the gloomy atmosphere. “Sure,” she said.
She took the two mugs through to the kitchen and rinsed them while the kettle boiled. Coffees made, she returned to the living room and handed one of them to Ben, who nodded gratefully as he accepted it. Lisa perched on the edge of her chair, feeling slightly groggy but determined not to let sleep ambush her a second time. By now it was close to four. She’d give it another hour and then call the police again.
“Nice place,” Ben said, looking around the room.
“Thank you.”
“Lived here long?”
“About five years.”
Ben grinned. “Listen to me. It’s like twenty questions.”
“I don’t mind,” Lisa said. “Talking like this helps keep my head clear.”
“I was wondering what a single young woman was doing living alone in the sticks.” Ben looked suddenly awkward. “That’s not a chat-up line, by the way.”
Lisa took a sip of her coffee while she decided what to say in response. Ben seemed a decent man but Lisa did not know him well enough to tell him that the reason this young woman was single and living alone was that her husband had been killed. It was too personal. For the same reason she did not want to describe the nightmare. Better to say nothing than to make up some weak story.
Besides, he too must have his secrets. There had to be a reason, something about his past or something he was involved with, to explain the events of last night.
“I want you to be straight with me,” she said.
“About what?”
“All of this started when we found you. That’s just too much of a coincidence for my liking. I know I wasn’t mixed up in anything weird and I’m pretty sure my sister wasn’t. That only leaves you, Ben. There has to be something.”
He held both hands out, palms upturned. “I honestly don’t know.”
Lisa felt like shaking him. “The hospital? The dog? This isn’t normal, Ben. This is wrong, very wrong. And it has something to do with you.”
“Listen to me. I don’t have the faintest fucking idea, all right? I don’t know what happened in the hospital. I really wasn’t with it. As for the dog, yeah, that was creepy. I’d have never thought anything that badly injured could still be alive.”
“That’s the point. It wasn’t alive was it? The thing was dead, probably the moment the van hit it, but that didn’t stop it. It kept on coming after you.”
Ben laughed incredulously, and gave her a look that suggested she was losing her mind. “Me? Why should it come after me?”
“I don’t know,” she said, voice rising. “I was hoping that you’d have a bit more of a clue. I mean, I was nearly killed tonight and my sister probably is dead, so the least you can do is have enough decency to give me some fucking answers.”
She lunged out of her chair and glared down at him. “Well?” she demanded.
Ben held her eyes briefly, then looked away. “I’m sorry for what happened. Really I am. And I hope your sister is still alive. I could do without having that on my conscience as well. But I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There must be something –”
Now it was his turn to raise his voice. “There’s nothing, all right? I’ve lived a pretty ordinary life. Apart from the small matter of being responsible for five fucking deaths, that is. What are you suggesting? That their ghosts are coming after me?”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting,” Lisa said softly. The fight had gone out of her. Whether she liked it or not, she had to accept that Ben was as confused by all this as she was. She sat back on the chair. “I don’t know how to handle this.”
“Tell me about the hospital,” Ben said. “I remember seeing something. And I sort of remember being scared. But it was like a dream, mixed up and blurry.”
And so Lisa told him. About the disembowelled child. And the young woman. But not the part about the King of all the dead. That was too reminiscent of her nightmare and she was still unprepared to share what she’d dreamt.
“Christ,” Ben said when she’d finished. He looked genuinely shaken, and Lisa was taken aback by how grateful she felt that he believed her. Then again, he had seen enough with the dog to know she was not making it up. “Fucking weird all right.”
“I don’t know what to do, Ben. It’s like the world has gone mad.”
“Maybe you’d have been better off letting me die.”
“Never,” Lisa said, and was surprised to hear herself say it. “Life’s always worth living, no matter how bad it seems.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Lisa let that one go.
“Tell me one thing,” she said. “Would you try it again? To kill yourself, I mean. After seeing what you saw tonight?”
Before he could answer, someone pounded on the front door three times, with such force that the entire cottage seemed to shake. Lisa bolted from her chair. “About bloody time,” she said, heading for the hall. “I thought they’d never get here.”
Ben frowned. “I didn’t hear a car pull up.”
“We have been talking.”
“Yeah, but even so. We’d have heard a car at this hour of the morning.”
Something in his tone made Lisa hesitate. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m not trying to say anything. I just think it’s odd, that’s all.”
Despite his words he looked worried. Lisa understood his unease. Neither of them could take anything for granted any more, not after what they’d seen. And when she st
opped to consider it, it was strange that they hadn’t heard a vehicle approach. There were no officers based in Holtford; the village was far too small to warrant its own station. They would have to drive here. So why park anywhere other than outside the cottage? There was plenty of room. It made no sense.
“You don’t think it could be Alison?” Ben asked.
Lisa was surprised to find the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Whoever had banged on the door had done so with such violence as to rattle it in its frame.
“No,” she said, backing away from the hall. “No, I don’t think so.”
Ben stood, then crouched in front of the open fireplace. To the left of it was a brass stand holding an old-fashioned poker and tongs. They were there for decorative effect rather than practical use. He lifted the poker and held it before him, swung it slowly back and forth a few times and finally nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t want to seem like I’m overreacting,” he said. “But after what we saw earlier …”
“You don’t want to take any chances.”
“Exactly.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Lisa said, “I don’t think you’re overreacting.”
Three more bangs reverberated around the cottage, making the pair of them jump. Lisa moved away from the hall, certain by now that it wasn’t the police. Surely no officer of the law would hit the door that hard. “What are we going to do?”
Ben looked over to the curtains. “I’ll check the window.”
“Be careful.”
“You bet I will.”
He stood to one side of the window, head pressed to the wall, one eye closed, squinting with the other through the gap behind the curtain. “Doesn’t seem to be anyone there,” he muttered. “But then again I can’t see the front door.”
Another three bangs followed. They were the loudest yet. Lisa chewed on her lip and started to tremble, blinking back tears. She was safe in the cottage, away from the woods and the hospital. Nothing could get to her while she was here. Or so she had thought. She closed her eyes and fought to control the shaking. When she opened them she could see Ben was moving away from the window towards the hallway, holding the poker with both hands at shoulder height like a baseball bat.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, though his intention was obvious.
“Finding out who the hell’s trying to kick the front door in.”
“Ben, no!” Lisa hated how frightened she sounded. The fact that he looked just as scared was little consolation. “Ignore them. Sooner or later they’ll go away.”
“Whoever’s out there, I don’t think they’ll leave without an answer.”
“At least let me call the police before you do anything.”
“Fat lot of good that’ll do. Haven’t exactly rushed, have they?” He dropped the poker on the sofa long enough to wipe his hands on his jeans, then picked it up again. “We’re going to have to deal with this ourselves, Lisa. We’ll be fine. Just stay behind me.”
Lisa swallowed. She didn’t want to do this. Really didn’t want to do it. Her stomach felt as if invisible hands were twisting it, and her breathing was painful and ragged. She tried to speak but her mouth was too dry. Instead she merely nodded.
Ben crept out into the hallway, with Lisa reluctantly following. If whoever – whatever – were to hit the door again, she felt like she’d jump out of her skin. Her body was rigid, ready to bolt at the merest hint of a threat. There was no telling what waited beyond the door; it was solid oak with no glass panes and no spy-hole. Lisa froze as she watched Ben grip and turn the lock. A metallic click was followed by the faintest protest of hinges. The door swung inwards an inch or two before Ben put his hand to the wood to hold it in place. “Ready?” he murmured, craning his neck to see her.
“Just get it over with.”
Without further hesitation, Ben yanked the door wide open. The air that rushed over the threshold was so cold that it instantly cleared the last remnants of tiredness from Lisa’s eyes. She watched unblinking as Ben took a hesitant step forward, raising the poker above his head. The tension was almost killing; she was braced for something – she didn’t even want to try to imagine what – to come charging through the doorway towards them. Seconds passed with such agonising slowness that she really felt like screaming, just to get the tension out of her system. Then she saw some of the tension lift from Ben’s shoulders. Well?” she whispered. “What can you see?”
“Nothing,” he whispered back, without turning round, words punctuated by small clouds of mist. “It’s dark but there doesn’t seem to be anyone out there.”
Lisa edged forward until she could peer over his shoulder. Cast on the grass was a rectangular slab of light on which her and Ben’s silhouettes were sharply delineated. Beyond it there was nothing but black, a stygian sea in which a whole army of the dead-but-not-dead could be hiding, waiting to surface. Just because she and Ben couldn’t see anything didn’t mean they were alone. Something had repeatedly struck the door, after all, hard enough almost to flatten it, and they couldn’t blame the village kids for that. Lisa shuddered, not knowing if it was because of the cold, fear or a combination of both. “Let’s go back inside,” she said. “I’m freezing.”
It seemed the sensible thing to do. If whatever had pounded on the door was indeed still out there, it seemed reluctant to show itself. And if it did decide to attack, they’d be better off with a few solid inches of oak to protect them from it.
Ben reached for the edge of the door. His hand stopped, wavering, in mid-air.
Lisa glimpsed someone moving out of the darkness, into the rectangle of light.
“Oh shit,” Ben gasped, making to push the door shut.
“Wait,” Lisa said, squinting into the night. There was something recognisable about the figure that hobbled towards them. It drew slowly closer, step by faltering step, until Lisa could make out long blonde hair, matted with dirt and leaves. Soon she could discern clothes, too; shorts that were ripped and darkly stained, a pale-coloured top that had been reduced to little more than filthy shredded rags. The flesh beneath it appeared a mottled grey. Light fell on its face, revealing ravaged yet familiar features.
Alison.
Lisa’s knees buckled. She had to grab the doorframe to prevent her from falling. When Ben slid an arm around her waist to hold her up she barely felt him.
It was Alison. But it was not her sister. Not any longer.
She looked as if she had been taken apart and put back together by clumsy hands. Her head did not sit straight but tilted to one side, so that she appeared to be studying the cottage with exaggerated inquisitiveness. A dark jagged line ran where head and neck met, resembling hurriedly inserted stitches. Her face had sustained massive damage, the nose crushed almost flat, one ear missing completely and the other partly so. Her eyes were as cold as starlight. She took one more shuffling step before halting, then raised her right arm towards them. One of the fingers had gone. Her other arm, Lisa could now see, hung loosely at her side. It ended in a crushed mess just above the wrist. The exposed flesh beneath her flayed top was criss-crossed with ragged lines, similar to that which encircled her neck. They appeared to shift and flow, as if illuminated not by a steady electric glow but by the flicker of candlelight. Even though the night was bitterly cold, no vapour escaped her lips. Neither was there any rise or fall of her chest. Her blue lips briefly contorted into a parody of a smile.
Lisa retched and turned away, hand over her mouth. Immediately she found her eyes drawn back to her sister – no, she amended, the thing her sister had become.
All through the long night she had comforted herself with the thought that Alison must still be alive. It was impossible to imagine a world in which she was dead. They would grow old disgracefully, each of them just about the only family the other had left in the world. Lisa and Alison. Together even
when they were apart. They could go weeks, months even, without visits, but when they eventually met up it was as if they had seen each other only the day before.
They had always been there for each other. They always would be.
Together, right to the end.
“Hello Lise,” Alison said. Dark fluid bubbled up between her lips when she spoke and she worked her mouth slowly, like an old woman having trouble with her teeth. The voice sounded the same as Alison’s, only wheezy, as if she had a cold.
Lisa felt Ben’s arm around her waist start to pull her back into the hallway, but she resisted when she heard her dead sister call out, louder this time.
“Better to give up now!”
“Fuck off and leave us alone!” Ben yelled back at her.
Lisa felt as if she, too, should say something, anything, a few last words to her sister, her friend for life, but her voice faltered then failed when she tried to speak.
“The King of all the dead –” Alison started.
“We’re not dead yet!” Ben cut across her.”
Lisa sensed pure bravado but nevertheless admired his defiance.
“You cannot run from us for ever.”
“Us?” Ben snapped back. “I don’t see any us.”
Alison turned her skewed head slowly to the left, then to the right.
Lisa suddenly glimpsed movements in the darkness. Something tall and pale loomed over Alison’s shoulder, just outside the confines of the light. Other shadowy figures stumbled across the lawn towards the cottage, the silence of the early hour disturbed only by the soft tread of many feet through wet grass. Indistinct shapes, too small to be human and too thin to be living, moved between them. These half-seen things halted as they drew level with Alison, as if deferring to her. Or, Lisa wondered, knowing she was clutching at straws, could it be that they were afraid of the light?
An infant crawled into view. It was mainly bone, the few rag-like shreds of rotting flesh it had left now falling from it as it inched across the grass. It looked straight up at the two figures in the doorway, gazing at them with tiny, empty eye sockets. Lisa stared back at it helplessly. Its jaws made a small clattering sound as it bit the air, over and over. Alison bent over and picked the infant up with her good hand, then held it to her chest. It was this, more than anything else she had seen, that undid Lisa. All her adult life, Alison had so desperately wanted children.
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