“I’ve been watching them. Running up and down. Every night there’s more of them.”
“I’m taking the villagers up to the castle. We’ll be safer up there.”
“He’s been back you know.” Emily raises her arm and points out through the window.
“Who?”
“Max. He’s been back to see her.”
Javeen remembers Laura’s terrified eyes when she’d visited her after the police team were attacked in the woods, the first day she realised they were trapped with the monsters. The woman had hardly been able to speak, almost catatonic from the terrible nightmares she’d been having. Sweat had trickled down Javeen’s temples as Laura had described her terrifying dreams. Javeen had baulked at telling Laura that the dreams were perhaps memories. In her dream, and it had to be a dream she’d insisted, although it had seemed so real, Max was transformed into a monster with fangs and eyes filled with blood, but it was still him, her husband. He’d pulled back the bed covers and … She’d stopped then, her pale skin tinged red. ‘It was just a dream though. It had to be.’
Emily lies back on the pillow exhausted, her chest heaving. Javeen reaches for the oxygen mask and places it over her mouth. She sucks at the gas greedily.
“Doesn’t matter how much I suck, I just can’t get enough breath in me.”
Javeen’s chest tightens in sympathy. She shudders at the thought of ageing. “Emily, I’m helping everyone I can to move up to the castle. I’ll come back for you later.”
“Me, love?”
“Yes. I can’t leave you here. They’ll be back tonight, and …” Javeen can’t finish the sentence.
“Not me love. I’ll stay here.” She takes another massive suck of oxygen.
“But, there’s no one to look after you now. Kathy’s gone and-”
“No, love. Cyril won’t know where to find me, and I’ve promised him that I’m coming. Don’t worry. I won’t be alone. Reverend Baxter is coming to sit with me later.”
Javeen shudders remembering Emily’s insistence that Cyril had told her not to be long, to hurry up and join him on the other side. She glances from Emily’s pallid face to Max Anderson’s house opposite.
“I’ll be back to collect you later, Mrs-” The woman snores cut through Javeen’s words. She strokes the paper-thin back of Emily’s hand. “I’m sorry, Emily, but I can’t leave you here. I’ll be back later to collect you.” As another snore rumbles at the back of Emily’s throat and her lungs rattle, Javeen locks the backdoor, slips the key under the pot then makes her way across the road to Max Anderson’s home.
The door opens and Laura stares at Javeen though her eyes appear uncomprehending. Her hair is unbrushed and she’s still wearing her nightdress though there are no signs of a break-in. “Mrs Anderson, can I come in for a moment?”
Laura widens the door and Javeen squeezes through. She notices her almost furtive glance outside and quick close of the door. As she steps away, Laura rubs a hand across her stomach and grasps a chair, her knuckles whitening as she grips it. She waivers and Javeen grabs her elbow giving her support. “Sit down, Mrs Anderson.” Her skin is pale, her eyes seem glazed, the lids dark. “You look exhausted. Can I get you a glass of water?” A frown of confusion, but she nods.
She gulps down the glass offered then asks for more.
“Mrs Anderson,” Javeen continues as the second glass disappears. “The village has become unsafe.” Laura stares at her now. “We’re currently evacuating all surv- … all remaining villagers up to the castle.” Laura nods. “Are you able to pack some essential items? We’re taking clothes, toiletries, and bedding, along with as much food as possible. If you have any camping beds that would be ideal. We do have cooking and washing facilities-”
“Max …”
Javeen catches her breath.
“Max will want me here.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs Anderson. Do you know where Max is?”
“He’s here.”
Javeen’s heart thumps and she pushes the chair from the table, scraping it across the floor, spinning to look around the kitchen.
“Not now.”
“Jesus! Sorry.” Javeen sits back down. Calm it, Latimer. Stay in control.
“He’s been back.”
“He has?” Javeen’s skin creeps as she remembers her last sighting of Max Anderson; his fangs and blood-red eyes were terrifying even from a distance.
“He visits at night.”
Sickness swells in Javeen’s belly. “He does?” Such incisive questioning, Latimer! “Could you … could you tell me what happens when he visits, Mrs Anderson?”
“He lies with me.”
“Lies?”
“Yes. I think he misses me.”
“Does … You must have heard what is happening in the village—to the villagers. Don’t you feel afraid?”
“No … yes … I think he … Max is different, but he’s still in there.”
Javeen remembers the glimmer of insanity raging through Jenny Oldfield’s eyes as she’d thrashed with agony after being bitten. How much of the victim did the infection leave?
“He doesn’t try to hurt you?”
“I think the part that loves me is keeping him from killing me.”
“It’s not safe for you to stay here.”
Laura grunts then curls forward.
“Are you in pain.”
“Just a stomach ache.” Her frown smoothes. “There. Gone now. Maybe just time of the month.”
“Paracetamol and a hot water bottle?”
Laura grimaces again.
“Do you drive?”
“Yes, my car is parked in the driveway.”
“Good, then pack what you need and drive up to the castle. We’re locking the gates at three-thirty pm.”
“Three-thirty?”
“We want everyone in before twilight. We believe they’re becoming nocturnal and twilight is when they become active.”
Laura nods. “I’ll be there.”
22
Javeen checks her watch. Three-twenty-five pm. There are only five minutes before the gates close and are locked for the night. Laura Anderson still hasn’t arrived. She pulls the door open, lets Freddie and Hayley pass. They clash in the doorway, their heavily packed rucksacks blocking its width.
“Sorry!” Freddie laughs and pulls back, allowing her to pass. She directs them to Moira who is busy organising sleeping arrangements whilst Andy and Conrad draw up their defensive plans. She checks her watch again. Three-thirty. She’ll have to bring them in herself. Rain spatters her cheek as she steps out. The sky is overcast, the day already seems at an end. Her belly gives a watery roll.
At the back of the Anderson’s house, Javeen raps at the door. Her hand trembles and she stuffs it deep into her pocket as Laura answers the knock. On the kitchen table are two large bags and a washbag. All are full.
“Do you need any help, Mrs Anderson. It’s gone three-thirty.”
“Oh, hell! I didn’t realise it was so late. I just have something to sort out upstairs.” She turns, strides out of the room and disappears.
A howl pierces the air and Javeen’s guts twist as her heart hammers painfully against her ribs. They can’t be here! Not yet! “I’ll load the car!” She grabs a bag. It is deceptively heavy and she grunts as it drags her arm. She pulls another from the table and lugs the over-filled bags outside. Another howl breaks from deep in the woods. Javeen yanks the boot open and throws the bags in with a grunt. Across the road, Emily Carmichael lays on her bed, the glow of her bedside lamp illuminates the scene and Javeen takes comfort from it: the oxygen mask cupped to her mouth, the Reverend sitting at her side, his hand holding hers, in the other a small book, presumably the bible, his lips moving as he recites.
Leaving the boot open, Javeen runs back up the driveway, jumps through the doorway into the kitchen, and closes the door. Laura still hasn’t appeared. Another howl.
“Laura!” Her shout is louder than she expected.
“Coming!”
Grabbing the final bag, Javeen waits, moving from one foot to the other until Laura’s footsteps sound on the stairs. “Meet me at the car!”
Laura strides into the kitchen as Javeen turns for the door. “I’ll take that PC Latimer.”
“No, it’s OK, and just call me Javeen.” As she opens the door, the howl comes again. This time she has an urge to empty her bowels. This time the ungodly noise is in the village.
“They’re here!” Laura’s voice is hoarse.
“Not yet.” Stay calm. “We’ll take my car. It’s parked outside.”
An icy blast of wind-driven rain spikes at Javeen’s cheeks as she steps outside. The sky is a mottled dark grey.
“I thought you said they only come out at night.” Laura says as they take quick steps down the driveway.
“That’s what I thought. Perhaps it’s just the light they don’t like. It’s so overcast now it might as well be twilight.”
As they reach the end of the drive, the sight at the end of the road sends shockwaves coursing through her body, and she stumbles. A large group jumps, runs, and jostles near the corner. Javeen freezes. Laura knocks against her back, sending Javeen staggering forward. She drops to her knees, keeping her eyes trained on the pack. “Get back,” she hisses. Heads turn towards her position. Laura whimpers but steps back.
“Now what?”
A heckle. A cackle. The clacking of claws on the tarmac.
Javeen takes a deep breath. Stay calm. Got to stay calm. Think. Going back into the house would be suicide. “Get in the car!” She hisses.
In the next second, she leaps out from behind the brick column and sprints for the car. The creatures spot her, screech, and lurch forward. Thigh muscles ripple as lips pare back and they bound forward. To her right, Laura sprints to the front of the car and throws herself round to the other side. The noise of cackling and snorting monsters, scratches at Javeen’s eardrums and she yanks the door open, throws herself inside, and pulls it shut. A body thuds against the car door as it clicks to closed. Laura crashes onto the passenger seat and slams the door. Javeen fumbles in her pockets for the keys.
“Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” She slips the key into the ignition.
Laura screams as a creature appears at the car’s bonnet, its face hideously distorted as it snarls and gnashes its teeth. A thud comes from above and metal tears.
“They’re cutting the roof open!”
Another thud at the back of the car and something clambers up its side. The sound of tearing metal continues. Javeen twists the key in the ignition. It turns but doesn’t start. Calm down, Jav. Just calm the fuck down! She tries again. The ignition catches. Lights illuminate the creature standing at the front of the car. She shifts the gears into first and releases the clutch. The car jerks forward then stalls. “Shit! Fucking shit!”
Laura places a firm hand on Javeen’s shoulder. “Stay calm. Breathe.”
A figure appears at Emily Carmichael’s window and bangs on the glass. A sickening lurch fills Javeen as she realises the Reverend is banging at the window with his bible. The tearing stops and the creature at the front of the car twists its head to look. Javeen turns the ignition and the engine bursts into life. Slowly this time, she slips the gear into first and releases the clutch. The car moves forward. The creature in front leaps towards the Reverend.
“No!” Laura gasps as within a second the pack is in Emily’s front garden.
Javeen slams the accelerator to the floor and shunts the car forward before doing a quick three-point turn and speeding past the horde, and the Church, before careening onto Main Street.
The car’s boot clicks shut.
23
Reverend Baxter’s breath catches in his chest as the monsters lurch across the road, jump Emily’s wall and slam against the window. Great trails of slather swirl over the glass.
Thud!
A clawed fist slams against the glass.
Thud!
Another fist slams, and then another. The entire window rattles, plaster cracks around the frame. The room darkens as bodies push against the glass, each forcing themselves in front of the other. On the bed, Emily takes great sucks of oxygen, her bony hands holding the mask tight to her face. The last two hours have been spent reading to her. She’d requested some favourite passages, some of the most beautiful in the English language she’d said, that she had to hear for the last time. Like him, her time was near, and she’d confided in him, with tears welling along her lashes, that she didn’t think she’d get to see the peonies beneath the lilac next spring. She didn’t mind though, because Cyril was waiting for her. He’d taken her hand then, placed his other with a gentle touch across her paper-thin brow and told her the truth—that this life was merely the journey, beyond its final gate was their true home, with the Almighty, in the loving light of His Son. She’d smiled, closed her eyes, and asked him to read. He’d attended many deathbeds, soothed the desperate, given them succour in their time of need, and accompanied those who embraced it, and he had a sense for when their time for passing was near, and Emily’s time was close, perhaps this afternoon, or early evening.
Thud!
Faces press up against the pane, incisors scratching against the glass, eyes pooled with blood stare madly at him. The car disappears past the church and he steps back to Emily’s bedside and sits back down. With a shaking hand he opens the book and reads aloud.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not-”
The chattering, screeching and gnashing intensifies, drowning out the Reverend’s voice. He raises it. “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness …” The chattering subsides, the horde of creatures thins, and grey light returns to the room. At the back of the house the door handle creaks. He hadn’t locked it! Heart palpitating, he turns to Emily. She lies deep in her pillow, eyes closed, chest heaving despite the oxygen mask. He removes it. The door slams open. His hand visibly shakes as he takes hold of hers. “It’s time to go now, Emily. Cyril is waiting. The Lord is waiting.” She takes a great rattling breath as the cackling from the kitchen rises to a crescendo and the bedroom door slams open.
The Reverend strokes her hand with his, resting his shaking hand on her belly. “I commend you, my dear sister, to almighty God …” The room fills with their stench. “And entrust you to your Creator.” Teeth gnash. One pushes from behind the others. A screech rises and jaws snap. “May you return to Him.” Emily’s eyes flick open. She pulls her hand from his and flings her arms out as though in an embrace and lifts her head from the pillow.
Hot breath, sour and rank, brushes against the Reverend’s cheek. The room has filled with monsters, the small space claustrophobic. He continues. “…who formed you from the dust of the earth.”
The heat and stench of their bodies fills the room. A large female bends to his neck and sniffs, growls, snaps, then pulls back. The noise of their snapping and snarling drowns out his voice. He shouts the prayer as they close in around Emily’s bed. “May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life.” Emily remains silent, eyes closed. Her lungs exhale, do not inhale. Pain in his shoulder, knives dig deep into the muscle, he sinks beneath the pressure, old knees unable to resist. “May Christ,” he shouts as the pain intensifies and Emily disappears beneath the horde. “Who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace,” he screams above their excited chuntering. “Amen.” Emily makes no sound as the creatures fall upon her.
The car’s tyres squeal as it careens from the road onto the castle’s driveway. Javeen slams it down into second, forcing the engine to power forward. Picnic tables disappear in a blur and the heavy double gates of the arched entrance looms. She beeps the horn then slams on the brakes, checks the mirrors for movement, then slams a fist on the horn once more. A face appears in the Watchman’s window at the side of the entrance. Andy! He gives her a quick thumbs up then disappears. She checks the surrounding area for mov
ement. Nothing. Her chest remains tight. There is no sense of relief. She grips the steering wheel and shunts it into first as a narrow strip of light appears between the gates. She rolls forward, the headlights almost touching the gates as they open. The car rolls into the cobbled yard and the gates swing closed behind her. Engine off, door swung open, she stumbles from the car.
“That was close!” She grasps at her belly, a dull pain spreads across her middle. “that was just too fucking close!”
“What the hell were you doing, Jav?”
“I had to get Laura.”
Andy glances at the woman, unsmiling. He grabs Javeen’s shoulder. “No bloody heroics, Jav.”
She pulls his hand off. He’s right. She knows it. “These people are my responsibility, Andy. What happened to ‘we’re all one big family’?”
Andy pulls back, shaking his head. “We are. We look out for each other, but you told everyone that the gates would be shut at three-thirty. You risked your life going out there-”
“I didn’t think they’d come out this early. I thought they were nocturnal.”
“You were wrong.”
“It’s just the light.”
“Whatever it is, she should have been here by three-thirty. You’ve put us all at risk by going out and coming back the way you did. What if they’d gotten in?”
The pain across Javeen’s belly intensifies as she remembers the pack of snapping, gnashing monsters that had attacked the car and then … oh, God … and then jumped into Emily Carmichael’s garden. What had she done? It was her fault. Poor, poor Emily. And the Reverend! He could be dead now, eaten alive-
“Jav. If we’re going to survive this … this … their attacks, then we’ve got to follow the rules.”
“I didn’t know there were rules.”
“There are going to have to be rules. We’re all going to die otherwise.”
She sags, weary after the shock of adrenaline pumped through her body. A howl splits the air. Another creature answers with its own. Javeen’s belly cramps and she leans against Andy as the cacophony reaches a crescendo then fades. Yaps and snarls carry on the wind.
Caged: An Apocalyptic Horror Series (The Wolfmen of Kielder Book 2) Page 13