by Rich Hawkins
“Come on, mate,” said Frank. “It’s better this way.”
Ralph glanced at him and raised the crowbar again, but he faltered once more and stepped away. “I’m sorry. Can’t do it.”
Frank took the crowbar and raised it with both hands. He couldn’t look into the mare’s eyes so he closed his own. Her breathing was slow and laboured from the toil of crippled lungs.
Frank opened his eyes. “I haven’t got it in me either.” He offered the crowbar to Magnus and Joel, but they shook their heads and looked away. All three men walked back to their car.
Ralph stayed with the horse, stroking her mane, until her eyes glazed over and the rise and fall of her chest stopped.
He whispered to her as she died.
*
They tried to move the mare to the roadside, but she was too heavy, and in the end they were forced to leave her on the road. Ralph wiped his bloodied hands on the grass.
“You okay?” asked Frank him.
“Yeah, fucking dandy.”
“First there was the abandoned car,” said Magnus. “Then the farmhouse. Now this. This is some weird shit, fellas.”
“What do we do about our car?” said Joel. “Does anyone know how to fix it?”
“You must be joking,” said Frank. “The radiator’s shot to pieces. The bonnet’s fucked. We need a tow truck.”
Frank patted the Corsa’s roof. “We’ll have to walk to Wishford and get some help there. We still need to report the abandoned car.”
“You want to leave your car here?” asked Joel.
“I don’t see much option. Our phones aren’t working. I’ve tried calling the RAC and the police, but got nothing. Got any other ideas?”
“We could stay here until someone drives past.”
“No chance. I don’t really fancy spending the next few hours in the middle of nowhere waiting for another car to come along.”
Joel shrugged. “We might get lucky.”
“We might get arse-raped,” said Ralph, unhelpfully.
“How many cars have you seen on this stretch of road since we left the farm?” said Frank. “Do you want to wait all day and night for help that might not arrive?”
Joel fumbled with his phone. “It’s a long walk to Wishford. It’ll take a while.”
Frank began to unload their bags. “You’re welcome to look after the car on your own.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Good. Carry your own bag. Get a move on, lads.”
CHAPTER TEN
They were less than a mile from Wishford when the sound of church bells rose from the village. It was an irregular tolling. Like a warning.
“Those aren’t wedding bells,” Joel said.
Ralph scratched his face with one end of the crowbar. “Weird.”
“During World War Two,” Frank said, “church bells were to be rung if the Nazis invaded.”
Magnus almost laughed. “Do you think the Germans have landed?”
Frank didn’t answer.
Ralph wiped sweat from his brow. His fitness routine consisted of walking to the pub. He gulped water from a bottle and thought about the dead horse, hating himself for not ending its misery. When he looked at the crowbar, he wondered if he could ever use it to kill a living thing.
They came to another house. It was locked, silent and seemingly empty. No car in the driveway.
Ahead of them, a road-sign concreted into the grass verge: WISHFORD.
“At last,” Joel said. “My feet are killing me. Is there a public telephone or a mechanic around here?”
“Where’s the nearest police station?” Frank asked.
“Fuck knows,” Ralph answered.
They walked the main road flanked by rows of houses and trimmed lawns. Expensive cars upon gravel driveways. Trees and pruned hedges. Flowers in bloom.
No sign of life. No movement in any of the windows.
Frank paused near a discarded handbag on one of the driveways. Its contents were spilled over the gravel: a lipstick cylinder, a purse and a packet of tissues among other things. He moved on, shaking his head in vague confusion.
A bicycle lay on its side upon the pavement, the front wheel spinning. Nearby was a child’s red baseball cap.
They passed one house with its front door open. Ralph saw a thin shape huddled in a shadowy corner beyond the doorway, but he didn’t tell the others because when he looked again it was gone.
The bells stopped ringing. Silence. Indigestion burned in Ralph’s chest, fed by anxiety and a feeling of dread.
A shriek echoed down the street and around the houses. The men halted.
Magnus’s eyes widened. “Jesus Christ, what was that?”
“Maybe a dog?” Joel said, glancing around.
Frank led them on. “Keep moving, fellas.”
They continued to the centre of the village. Ralph and Frank entered the village shop, but no staff or customers awaited them. Tins of food had been stacked neatly on shelves. No signs of catastrophe or trouble. It was as though everyone had winked out of existence.
Frank grabbed some bottles of water and a few chocolate bars and handed them out to the others while they checked their phones for signal. The screen on Ralph’s phone was blank. He put it back in his pocket and turned to his friends, noting how their faces were too pale, too tight around their skulls. He ate his chocolate bar in two bites.
Frank stared down the street, while Joel sipped water and kept looking over one shoulder as if he was expecting an attack. Magnus was absently rubbing his mouth. Spit came away on his fingers. A muscle moved just below his right eye.
Ralph slapped the palm of one hand with the crowbar. An urge to hit something burned in his stomach and made him fidgety.
“What the fuck is going on?”
*
They heard the shriek again, louder this time.
“That ain’t a fucking dog,” said Ralph.
Magnus swayed on his feet and his face shined with sweat. “I don’t feel well.”
Joel took hold of him by the shoulders. “You okay, mate?”
“Not really.” His eyelids drooped. “Feel dizzy and hot.”
Joel touched Magnus’s forehead then looked to Frank and Ralph. “He’s burning up.”
“We keep walking,” said Frank.
“Where to?”
“Maybe the church, if whoever was ringing the bells is still there.”
“Fair enough.”
Magnus exhaled through his teeth. He held onto Joel.
The four men moved on. They kept to the middle of the road. Ralph held the crowbar like someone spoiling for a fight.
The sky turned darker as the sun dipped out of sight behind grey clouds. A humid thickness in the air. There was a deep, short rumble far away. Frank thought about thunder and how it was supposed to sound. Not like that. Not at all.
They rounded a corner and halted when they saw a young woman in a summer dress lying on her stomach in the middle of road ahead of them. She was trying to raise herself up with her arms, crying and mewling like a sick animal.
“Christ on a fucking bike,” Ralph said.
The woman looked up them, her eyes bulging with pain. Her mouth was trembling.
Frank took a step towards the woman. He held out his hands. “Are you okay?”
The woman sobbed.
He kept his voice low and steady. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“What’s that on her neck?” said Ralph, pointing.
Frank saw, about two inches below the woman’s left ear, a puncture mark weeping a clear fluid. The skin around it was red and sore.
“Looks like a wasp sting,” said Frank.
“It would have to be a big fucking wasp.”
Shuddering on her knees, the woman held one hand out to them. “Help me.”
Frank took another step towards her.
“What’s wrong with her?” said Joel.
“Please help me,” the woman muttered. She lowered her h
ead, breathing hard. A wheezing rattle rose from her chest.
The men backed away from her.
“What happened to you?” Frank asked her. But she didn’t answer.
“Fuck this let’s get out of here,” Ralph said.
“We can’t just leave her.”
Magnus let out a moan.
Ralph looked at Frank. “Can’t we? We’ve got our own problems. I’m not touching her. She might have a disease or something.”
“So compassionate, as always.”
“Ralph’s right,” said Joel. “What if she’s contagious?”
“She needs help.”
Magnus slumped on his feet. Joel and Ralph struggled to keep him upright. “If you want to help her,” said Ralph, “be my guest.”
“What happened to you?” Frank asked the woman. The wound on her neck had swollen to the size of an apple.
She raised her head again and tried to speak but her attempted words dissolved into murmurs and sobs.
The terrible shriek echoed around them again. It sounded like an animal. Something carnivorous.
“What the hell is making that noise?” said Joel. He was looking back the way they had walked.
Ralph raised his voice at Frank. “We need to sort out Magnus before we help the woman. We’ll come back for her.”
Frank didn’t believe Ralph, but he nodded. “Okay.”
“Good idea,” said Joel. “Let’s go.”
Frank hesitated. For some reason he felt responsible for the woman. He didn’t know why.
“Come on, Frank.” Ralph was shouting now. “She’s not our problem.”
Joel pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped Magnus’s bleeding nose.
Another shriek rang out from beyond the houses. It was closing in.
“Fuck this,” Ralph said. He grabbed Frank and pulled him away. Joel helped Magnus along.
“Please don’t leave me,” the woman said in desperation. “Don’t leave me here.”
Frank looked away and kept walking.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Frank looked back as the unseen thing shrieked again. He walked behind his friends. A stab of remorse pricked his chest when he thought of the woman crying and calling out after them.
His face flushed with shame. He should have helped her.
“Hurry up, Frank, for fuck’s sake.” That was Ralph.
“Feels like someone’s playing a joke on us,” said Joel. “Some kids or bored villagers trying to scare outsiders. This can’t be happening, can it? It has to be some kind of prank…”
“If it is a practical joke,” Ralph said, “I’m going to punch some fucker.”
Frank hurried forward. He glanced up at the sky when he sensed a presence above him, hidden in the clouds. Then the feeling was gone. He looked back at his friends.
Ralph was slapping Magnus’s face lightly, trying to keep him awake. “We need to stop. He’s dead weight.”
“What is making that shrieking?” said Joel. “I don’t want to be caught in the open when that thing shows up.”
Ralph pointed to the open front door of a house across the street. “What about in there? Magnus needs somewhere to rest. We can’t drag him much further.”
“We don’t know who’s in there,” Joel said.
“I don’t give a fuck. We can’t stay out here. What do you think, Frank?”
Frank looked at the open door inviting them inside. A grey dimness lurked beyond.
The shrieking thing called out again, wailing like a tortured creature. He tried not to imagine the mouth that made such a noise.
“Frank,” Ralph said, clicking his fingers at him. “What do you think?”
Frank looked back down the street.
“Frank!”
He looked at Ralph. “Okay.”
Ralph and Joel hauled Magnus towards the house. There was a blue car on the driveway.
Frank followed but stopped at the door. Joel was calling out to see if the house was occupied. No answer. Ralph helped Magnus sit down on the hallway floor, slumped against the wall.
Joel returned from the kitchen. He had already checked the living room. “Nobody’s home. Don’t know about upstairs, though.”
“Shut the door, Frank,” said Ralph.
“I’m going back.”
Ralph scowled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, mate. Why?”
“It’s not right to leave her.”
“Please don’t go,” said Joel. “Stay here, Frank.”
“I’m sorry. I have to do it.”
“Don’t be a dickhead,” Ralph said. “We have to look after Magnus, not some woman we don’t even know.”
Frank handed his bag to Joel. “I can’t leave her back there.”
Ralph stepped over to Frank and gave him the crowbar. “Get back here in one piece, you stupid twat.”
Frank nodded and then was gone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He gripped the crowbar and peered around the side of a white transit van parked by the side of the road.
The woman had disappeared.
Panic and guilt mixed in his gut. Maybe someone had come along and helped her. His body sagged and he rubbed his face with one clammy palm.
The patter of feet and the scrape of a limb on the road rose from the other side of the van.
Frank froze.
Something shrieked and the sound of it filled his head. He clenched his teeth and fought the urge to scream. A weight knocked against the other side, followed by the screeching of nails upon metal.
Frank crouched, looked under the van, and saw the naked legs and bare feet of a man. There were gangrenous lesions on his calves. Toenails stained yellow and cracked. Calloused heels and flaking skin. There was a stink similar to something dead left to rot in the sun.
Frank realised that if he could look under the van then the man could do exactly the same. He edged to the rear of the vehicle and hid his legs behind the wheel.
The man breathed through a gulping mouth. It sounded wet and rasping, becoming quicker until it stopped.
Frank watched as the man began to move around the front of the van and over to his side. He got onto his hands and knees and scrambled under the vehicle, keeping low, kissing the road. The tarmac scraped at his hands. He tucked in his limbs and held his breath. Sweat dripped from his face. His pulse thudded hotly between his ears.
The man stopped next to him and shrieked again, shockingly loud and bestial.
Frank closed his eyes. He did not want to see the man’s face leering down at him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ralph examined the blade of the knife he was holding. The promise of its sharp edge comforted him.
Judging by the framed photos on the walls, the house belonged to a young family: a mum and dad with a little boy no more than ten years old. Their car was on the driveway, but there was no sign of them, and despite a thorough search he hadn’t found the keys.
He wondered if they were dead.
Sprawled out across the sofa, Magnus was barely conscious but his nose had stopped bleeding. He was a limp shape, eyelids fluttering, muttering nonsense words and moaning gently. His head rested on a cushion. Joel laid a damp cloth over his forehead after cleaning the blood from around his nose and mouth.
Ralph found a Tupperware box full of chocolate bars in the kitchen cupboard. He gave one to Joel, saved one for Magnus and one for Frank when the foolish twat returned. He didn’t save one for the woman Frank had gone to rescue.
He took two for himself and ate them without pause.
“What’s happening out there?” Joel asked. “Where is everybody?” He let out a nervous, juddering sigh. “I’ve got work tomorrow…”
Magnus groaned.
“Fuck knows,” said Ralph. “Have you tried the television?”
“The power’s out. Do you think it’s only happened to this village, or do you think it’s happened elsewhere? Maybe the people were evacuated for some reason. What if this area is contaminated with some
thing, like radiation or a biological agent of some kind? We could be in the middle of a quarantine zone. The government might want to hush it up, keep it all secret. There could be squads of soldiers in bio-hazard suits executing anyone they think is contaminated.”
Ralph’s mouth turned sour. “We don’t know what’s happened. No point in jumping to conclusions.”
“What about the woman Frank went back to help? What happened to her?”
“Dunno.”
“What was that puncture wound on her neck?”
Ralph took in a deep breath. Joel eyed him nervously, hands held together like an old maid. “I don’t know, mate.”
“And what’s wrong with Magnus? Is he sick? Is there something worse than that wrong with him?”
Ralph thought exactly the same. “He’ll be fine. Once Frank gets back we’ll decide what to do, and we’ll get out of here. Calm the fuck down.”
“One of us should’ve gone with Frank. We shouldn’t have let him go on his own.”
“Frank will be okay. He’ll be back soon.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
“Just take it easy. We’re safe in here.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to see if I can find something to help Magnus.”
“Okay.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There were great booms in the distance, like the footfalls of a behemoth raised from the earth. The ground trembled from far away thunder.
Frank had spent the last hour hiding beneath the van, afraid to leave his hiding place. The daylight was fading and he didn’t want to be alone out in the dark. He had heard strange noises earlier – muted calls and voices that were no more than whispers in his ears. Footfalls down the street and the sound of running all around him. The shrieking man-thing had staggered away and vanished from sight.
With all the effort he could muster, Frank moved his limbs to coax the blood back into them. He composed himself and made a quick scan of the street at his level. No movement. No spindly legs waiting for him.