Andy closes the door and joins her in the car. The banging of the door thuds in her ears and his voice grates at the pain in her head. She was heading for a migraine. Taking a packet from her pocket, she takes a pill, and downs it with water.
“You shouldn’t drink water that’s been kept in your car. The plastic leaks poison.”
“My head is leaking poison right now.” She leans back against the headrest, the chalky pill bitter on her tongue, and takes another swig. “Migraine,” she explains.
“Let’s just sit a minute. The past hour has been … God, it has been unreal.” Andy fidgets in his seat, checking up and down the road.
“Sure.” Javeen takes another swig of water then takes out Andy’s map from her pocket and crosses out Kathy’s name.
“Jav.”
“Yep.”
“If Kathy got up after being bitten and disappeared … does that mean she’s one of them now?”
Javeen’s head throbs. “Yes, I think it does. Here’s my take on it. They’re hunting—in packs. Some people they kill and drag off somewhere to eat, like Anita and Jimbob. Others they just bite, like Rachel Kendrick —I’m pretty sure it was her with Max Anderson and Lois Maybank in the woods, and Conrad said he thought one was Kelly Gray.”
“What about the others—the ones they don’t kill or bite?”
“Well, I think they don’t attack them because they’re sick. Reverend Baxter has cancer, and Ben is riddled with it too.”
“Guess they can smell it or something.”
“Dogs can. Even some humans can. Diabetics smell different. I remember my uncle Mike. He’d smell like he’d been drinking Jack Daniels even though he didn’t touch a drop, but it was the sugar in his blood leaking out. He ended up losing a foot and going blind in one eye.”
Andy remains silent, runs fingers through his hair. Infection and disease were smothering the village. Javeen releases a long breath and her memory flits back to the laboratory at Kielder Institute and the scene that had greeted Stangton and herself the morning after the activists had broken in and attempted to destroy Anderson’s research. It dawns on her that Marta had lied. If the research assistant, Sally, had seen Dr. Anderson’s car in the carpark, then she must have too. Her only reason to lie was to cover something up. An image of the dogs, both dead, one the result of ‘blunt force trauma’ (she remembers the phrase with sadness along with the frowning figure of PC Stuart Stangton as he’d stood over the mess), the other euthanised with the empty syringe sticking upright from its stiffening body.
“We should go to the Institute.”
“What?”
“They’ve got drugs there that will kill them and-”
Javeen’s reply is stifled as movement along the road catches her eye and a motorbike, complete with rider, passenger, and obviously full panniers, rolls out of a driveway further down the road. The bike is followed by another, also with full panniers and pillion passenger. What on earth are they doing? She checks along the treeline for movement - all is still - and opens the door. The noise from the engine thrums at her already pounding head. She waves to catch the rider’s attention. The engine revs and the bike moves closer then pulls to a stop beside her.
“Freddie, what are you doing?” She gestures to the panniers and Hayley in pillion.
“We’re getting out of here.” Hayley shouts above the sound of the bike’s engine.
“I’m riding as far as the boundary and then taking the forest track out of here.”
“It’s too risky,” Andy responds.
Freddie’s eyes flit to Andy. “I can go faster than them. I can get there no problem then its just a mile through the woods. We can make it.”
“Freddie, the forest is infested with them.” Judy, the pillion passenger behind Craig on the other bike looks from Javeen to the forest, her face pale inside the helmet.
“So is the village.” He casts a wary gaze at the houses along with street. “The Armstrongs are all infected. We found them this morning—curled up in their bedroom, like rats in a lair.”
“It was gross to see them, Andy. We only just made it back to the house.”
“And Eric, their shitty little Jackshit, has been bitten.”
“Jackshit?”
“One of them designer cross-breed fuckups. It’s a Jack Russel crossed with a Shitzu. It was out of its mind even before it was bitten. Fucking rat came at me like a hell hound. Red eyes and gnashing teeth-”
“So we’ve got to fight weredogs now too?”
“Not us. We’re out of here.”
“The Armstrongs—they came after you?”
“We disturbed them. They came out of the house. I thought they’d chase us, but they went across the road and into the woods—just over there.”
The close proximity makes Javeen shudder.
Freddie looks to the sky. “Time we were off.” He revs the engine, slips it into gear, and with a final nod disappears down the road and out of the village.
Javeen takes out the paper and holds her pen over the square that is Freddie’s house. Andy grabs her hand. “No, Jav. He’ll make it.”
He won’t. “If he does, it will be a miracle.”
“Then we have to believe in miracles.”
13
Freddie powers the bike forward, passing through the village boundary, quickly gaining speed until the speedometer reads one hundred and five miles per hour. When he’d escaped them before, he’d been doing over seventy so he is confident that, even if they do try to chase him, that the bike will outrun them easily. As the miles pass, he grows in confidence. The journey to the edge of the forest, passing roads hugged by trees, and those with open grassland and streams either side, is a breeze. Their bikes are the only vehicles on the road and they make good progress. By the time they get to the turn-off for the trail that will take them to the very edge of the forest, they have experienced no incidents, no attempts by naked and hairy beasts to run after the bike, and not a single sighting of the monsters that Javeen had insisted infested the forest. Their lair, he is sure, is close to the village. It would make sense for the creatures to stay close to their hunting ground. He shudders at the thought; the village was a larder; the creatures’ guaranteed supply of meat—free-range, though perhaps not strictly organic.
He turns off the main road, Hayley’s arms hugging his waist, Craig and Judy close behind, and heads for the sign pointing out the trail. Much of it is tamped down so won’t be an issue for the bike. It will only be the last section, where they have to take one of the smaller tracks, that the bikes could struggle. At that point, they will have to make it out on foot.
The light has faded to grey within the forest, dark clouds blot the bright November afternoon sun as rain falls on its canopy, dripping down to the damp earth. The air in the shed is warm, filled with the heat from them all … their lair … their flesh, curled together. She can smell each one; their odour, their sweat, their breath, their balls, their soft and salty lips, their dark places. Kelly snickers … their deep, dark places. She leans into the One, taking in his scent, and an ache spreads through her, a dull, delicious throb. Kelly shivers as the ache deepens. She wants him to take the ache … to ram at it, to bang at her, to thrust and to lick and to … she groans as her fingers slip between her own legs. She is slippery, the place warm and swollen. She is ready. She needs him. Only him.
Kelly pushes closer to Max, pressing her naked flesh into his, fingers between her legs, fingering her bud, aroused and driven to make him fill her, to fornicate, to thrust together until they howl in their ecstasy. She will claim him. She slips an arm over Max’s chest, lets it slide down his belly, as her need pulses, and strokes at the soft flesh between his legs. She curls her fingers through the hairs, stroking, teasing. He groans in sleep, but the soft flesh begins to harden. Grow hard … fill Kelly with your seed. Fuck Kelly … Fuck Kelly hard. She strokes the rod. Wants his rod. Only his. The ache deepens between her legs, and she strokes harder, pulls at the rod. P
ain sears her shoulder. She yelps as sharp claws dig into her flesh, pulling her back, forcing a gap between herself and Max. Kelly twists her head with a quick jerk, still holding Max, and snarls, teeth bared at the woman behind. Lois pulls up to a squat, snaps her jaws at Kelly, her snarl low and rumbling; a challenge. Max shifts next to her, growls in his half-sleep, and snorts. Lois continues to squat, legs apart, her genitals bared. She gnashes her teeth, shuffles closer to Max, and slips a hand over Max’s thigh, digs sharp nails into Kelly’s wrist, drawing blood.
Kelly places a hand on his shoulder. Lois bares her teeth, and, still squatting, moves a leg over his sleeping form, eyes locked to Kelly’s. Ignoring Lois’ claim, Kelly slides her arm across Max, hooking hers over his chest. He murmurs in his sleep. His throaty grunt mingles with the inhale and exhale of the others. “Lauuura … Lauuura.” His teeth gnash and his eyes flicker to open. Eyes still locked to Kelly’s, Lois smirks, bares her teeth, and pushes her hips along Max’s thigh, forcing him to roll to his back, squashing Kelly to the floor. She yelps. Lois snickers and rocks her hips, sliding her heat over Max’s rod until he groans. She rises, lowers herself down and rocks against him. He gasps, grabs her breasts, lifts her into the air, and flips her to face the shed floor. Fully erect, he takes her from behind. Their grunts and moans fill the small, muggy space, waking the Others as Kelly scuffles to the corner. She watches as Max thrusts into Lois and snarls as the woman giggles and gnashes, howling her triumph over Kelly. Rage grows within her, but she bites back the need to gnash and tear at the woman. Later, Max would be hers. Later, Lois would cower.
As Lois and Max finish their rutting, Kelly stands and moves to the door. Max pounces, gnashes his teeth and blocks her exit. She takes a step back as he stands over her, teeth bared, and waits. The hunger in her belly is overwhelming. The drive to gnash and bite, to slice her teeth into soft, pulsing flesh, growing with each second. Max gives the signal to leave and she bursts out of the door, followed by the Others
A large male brushes past her. He is strong. She could bed with him, be his mate, if he is strong enough. She follows him to a hanging tree. Above, high in its branches, arms and legs dangle, and hollow torsos rest against the boughs. She clambers high, crouching on the branch, legs parted, and tears at the fabric covering the flesh. Her genitals gleam pink at the Other waiting below. His rod grows. She snickers, locks her eyes to his, then bites at the buttock of the Hanging One. The flesh is cold, already with the stench of rot and poison. She jumps back down. Grunting at the Other. She needs fresh meat, fresh bleeding, throbbing flesh. She pushes close to the Other, stroking her hand down his back, watching the reaction of He, Max, the Only One. She slides a hand down the Other’s belly. He hardens and pushes her to the ground. The Only One leaps to them, pulling the Other from between her legs, throwing him to the forest floor. He snarls at the Other, it doesn’t growl back, but squats, cowers. Not strong enough. Kelly bares her teeth as Max turns back to stare at her. His eyes gleam hard and red in the forest gloom. He steps forward, raises his hand, scratches nails down her arm. Blood seeps from split flesh, pain dances through her muscle, and she yelps, shuffles back, crouches beside the tree, eyes averted, waiting for the pain to stop, the flesh to heal. Lois snickers. Kelly’s rage grows.
In the distance an engine roars. She recognises the sound, each revolution, each thrust of its pistons. The Uncaught. The rabbit … she licks her lips … the rabbit that had run away, that had bolted down its hole. Their eyes had met. She had wanted him then. Wanted him to take her. Wanted to be his. The strong one riding. Ride Kelly. Take Kelly. Love Kelly. Fill her. Her genitals throb, her vagina contracts. Her need is overwhelming. This time she will catch He. No more running, little rabbit. This time she would bite, sink her fangs into flesh, this one she would keep, make hers, and leave the Max, leave the Others. Make her own place … hole … lair. She snickers … fill Kelly’s hole. The Uncaught would be hers to keep, to fill her, hunt for her, make her swell with his seed.
As Max gives the order to run to where the lights burn, to where tender flesh and beating hearts hide, to where blood pulses ready to be swallowed. Kelly’s mouth waters and memories of the village, of hunting among the houses, dances in her mind. But a greater need fills her and she darts to a moss-covered root ball and crouches behind the thick ferns that grow from its upturned base. As the Others and The One run down the slope and disappear between the thick scratching trunks, and waving green leaves, Kelly listens to the engine, then turns to follow the sound. Run rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run!
14
As Kelly sprints with ease through the forest, jumping roots, darting between trees, and vaulting across trickling streams, towards the pulsing engine, Freddie leads the group deeper into the forest. They reach a crossroads and he slows the bike to a stop, removing his helmet. The enclosed space, and the sweat of fear, has made his hair damp. Checking around, the space is silent, and he gestures to Hayley to dismount. Noticing Craig’s frown, he gestures to the trees. “There’s nothing here. Those things live closer to the village.”
“How do you know that?” Craig scans the trees, his frown making deep lines across his forehead.
“It makes sense for them to do that. The village is their hunting ground, why come out here,” he gestures to the surrounding forest with its host of ramrod straight trunks, and fallen, rotting, moss-covered trees, “when it’s empty? There’s nothing in here but a few squirrels.”
“He’s right. How often have you seen anything living in the forest?”
“If there is anything it hides well.” Judy scans the forest, her cheeks pale though a red flush shows at her collar. “Can we just get out of here, please? The forest gives me the creeps anyway, but now I know it’s infested with … with ‘wolfmen’ I-”
Her eyes dart to the trees where a branch quivers. From its boughs, a bird flaps its wings and launches into the sky. She takes a gasp of breath. “Hell,” she pats her chest. “I thought that was one of them.”
Freddie attempts a smile, fails. “Don’t worry, Judy. I told you, there’s nothing at this end.”
“Maybe, but I’ll feel a whole lot better once we’re on the other side.”
“What if we get there and it’s fenced off like PC Latimer said it was?”
“It’s not just PC Latimer who’s seen it. Conrad said there was a twenty-foot steel fence across the exit road.”
“Yes, he did, Hayley, and it was at the barrier that the … the wolfmen attacked the convoy, so they do come over to this side.”
Freddie swallows. Another bird flutters from the overhead branches and then another bolts into the air as though launched from a spring. Freddie resists the urge to pull an imaginary rifle up to shoot and watches as it flaps into the greying sky. Rain, filtered through a thousand pine needles, spatters against his cheeks and he blinks it from his lashes. A crack, deeper in the forest, pricks at his awareness and he turns his head to listen. The noise mingles with the flap of the bird’s wings and seems to fill the space as he waits. His heart palpitates a beat faster.
“OK.” Freddie turns a careful smile to Craig, Judy, and Hayley, sensing their need for his reassurance. “Let’s go.” He swings his leg back over the motorbike’s seat and waits for Hayley to join him then twists the key in the ignition. The bike’s engine roars, more birds burst from the canopy and hurtle into the sky. He waits for Craig’s thumbs up, then manoeuvres the bike onto the path that will take them through the last, but most difficult, part of their journey to the edge of the forest.
They ride for five minutes, before a mass of worming roots rises across the path, Freddie slows, moves to the edge of the track, ploughing through ferns, dodging felled boughs, and manoeuvres the bike to the other side. Here the track narrows. Bowing fronds brush against the motorcycle’s wheels as he moves the bike forward. Achieving any kind of speed will be difficult, if not impossible here. He looks ahead, searches his memory of past hikes through the woods. If he is correct, they are ne
arly at the edge of the forest, and this track should lead them to open moorland where the going would be tough, particularly on these bikes, but not impossible. What if there’s a fence, Freddie? Can’t be. How could they fence an entire forest? He rounds another corner, heads to a bank of ferns between a wide gap in the trees and jerks as the bike’s front wheel loses contact with ground. It spins mid-air for a second as the forest floor gives way to a steep bank, then crashes down, pulling the bike forwards. The bike wavers, the wheels spin, slip, and the bike falls. He grasps the handlebars and leans into the bank. Hayley, used to riding pillion, does the same, and the bike stalls as it slides down the bank coming to a stop as the wheel catches against a thick sapling.
Heart pounding, he pulls his boot from beneath the tank, and twists to help Hayley. “You OK?” he shouts.
“Leg’s caught!”
At the top of the slope, Craig is dismounting, Judy already taking side-steps towards them.
“Are you alright?” she calls.
As Freddie calls back, a figure flits between the trees at the top of the slope. Freddie’s startled expression alerts Judy and she stops in her tracks.
“Christ, no!”
Another figure jumps behind Craig.
“Craig, run!”
“There’s two of them!”
Startled, Craig twists his head to see, helmet impeding his peripheral vision. Behind him, two figures, almost camouflaged against the dark brown bark of the pine trees and the gathering gloom of the spaces in between, move between the trunks. Craig freezes. Freddie’s feet are locked to the ground. Should he shout to Craig? He doesn’t want to startle the beasts into action. Freddie raises an arm and slowly beckons for Craig to move forward as he crouches to his own bike and unbuckles the long bag of his hunting rifle. The creatures creep a little closer to Craig. He takes a step towards the slope. Freddie raises the rifle. And peers down the sights.
Caged: An Apocalyptic Horror Series (The Wolfmen of Kielder Book 2) Page 7