The Killing Moon

by A. S. French

  When gunfire erupted at the rear, she lifted the shotgun as the dogs howled. She knew she shouldn’t leave her post, but Grace’s scream drew her from the window.

  In that instant, the front door burst open, and a man swivelled towards her. He pointed the gun at her face as she brought the shotgun up and smacked the weapon away. She dropped her hand and blasted him through the foot. He shrieked as he crumbled, just as two others rushed inside

  Astrid crouched as the bullets whizzed through the spot where she’d been; then more bounced off the chair as she ducked behind it. She rolled into the skirting board, gun pointed up in anticipation, but all that came was the sound of snarling and frenzied animals pouncing. The screams followed from two different sets of lungs as one of them managed to get a shot away. The dogs barked as she imagined those sharp white teeth biting through human flesh.

  As the noise grew, something crashed into the back wall before everything spun around her. A shot was fired, a man screamed, and bones were crushed and broken. The stink of fresh blood swallowed the space above her as she peered over the sofa: one of the dogs was bending over an intruder and ripping out his throat. The bloke she’d blasted in the foot was missing, a trail of blood leading out of the front door. The other dog and attacker were also absent.

  Astrid pushed herself up, the ringing continuing in her ears as she reached for her face. Red dripped from her forehead, and she placed her fingers on the wound. She wasn’t sure what had happened, perhaps a stray bullet had grazed her before she found cover, but the pain wouldn’t stop her.

  Her feet were unsteady, her body unable to stand correctly before the attacker hit her in the side.

  They tumbled over and rolled through dust and dirt. A steam train bowled through her head as he punched her hard in the ribs; the agony was great, but she was used to it. A tall bloke loomed over her, a lopsided grin on his face not distracting her from his right ear flapping away from his head. He was going to kick her in the stomach when she moved to the side and swung her hand around. The trousers he wore were light enough for her to dig her nails into his leg and tear at his flesh. He howled in unison with the dog.

  Astrid reached up to punch him in the groin, but he brought the pistol down and cracked it across her cheek. Her jaw twisted into an unnatural angle as she stumbled into the wall. The runaway train of pain in her skull had split into a hundred different carriages, and every one of them sped through her blood and bones. She watched him raise the gun and aim it between her eyes. She waited for the aching to end and thought of all the people she’d let down, focusing on an image of Olivia as he grinned with his finger on the trigger.

  Then the dog leapt at his throat.

  Man and beast crashed to the floor next to her as she rolled away, unable to do anything but watch the hound chew through his flesh.

  When he stopped moving, she pushed herself up. She left the dog chewing on fresh meat in an increasing pool of gore and moved to the window. The trail of blood led outside and into the distance, but there was no sign of life.

  Grace’s howl of anguish forced her towards the rear of the house.

  She stumbled beyond the feeding dog and into the back room, where she found the other hound, with Grace cradling Manny’s head in her arms. The large hole in his chest was hard to miss. She moved past them and checked outside, which was as empty as the front. There wasn’t one part of her which didn’t throb, but she ignored it all.

  Grace held on to Manny and wiped away her tears. ‘I’ve called for an ambulance.’

  Astrid could tell from the look on their faces that it was a forlorn hope. She left them and returned to the living room, where the dog sat on its hind legs and looked pleased with itself. She went to the front porch as the roar of an aeroplane shattered the silence. She stepped down onto the path and followed the drip of red from the cabin. She tracked it back to their car, where it disappeared into dust and a set of tyre tracks.

  Then she returned to the house and waited. It was forty-five minutes before the ambulance and the police arrived.

  Five minutes later, Manny Burns died in Grace’s arms.

  16 Shadowplay

  There were so many officers crawling through the cabin Astrid wondered if the town’s criminals were having a field day everywhere else. Even Police Chief Roscoe Tanner arrived, quizzing Grace while Cope and Wylie peered at the dead thugs on the floor.

  ‘Death by dog,’ Dr Brianna Jones said to the two grim-looking Detectives as she finished examining the bodies. Astrid joined them as Grace pulled away from her boss, the look on her face as unpleasant as the corpses at their feet. ‘But the most interesting thing is,’ Dr Jones paused for effect, ‘these men have no fingerprints.’

  All four of them looked at her with a mixture of surprise and astonishment.

  ‘Burnt off?’

  ‘Indeed, Ms Snow.’ The glint in Jones’s eyes sparkled like a shooting star. ‘The skin was removed with acid by the look of it.’

  Astrid resisted the urge to peer into a dead man’s mouth. ‘There might be dental records on the database or identifying markers in the blood or DNA.’

  ‘You’re a suspect here, Snow, not an investigator.’ Detective Wylie pushed a stray hair from his bloodshot eyes and scowled at her.

  Astrid watched the hackles rise on the back of Grace’s neck. ‘They attacked us, Wylie. Why is she a suspect?’

  Detective Peter Wylie stepped towards her. ‘It’s Detective Wylie to you, Crowley, so watch your mouth.’

  He jabbed his finger an inch from her face, but she never flinched. His partner placed her hand on Wylie’s shoulder.

  ‘What Pete is trying to articulate in his ham-fisted way is we need to know more about why you two were here.’ Julie Cope was the opposite of her partner, all sweetness and light. She gave Astrid the warmest of smiles. ‘Is all of this destruction to do with your search for Alex Sanchez?’

  Grace was about to reply when Astrid stopped her. ‘We haven’t found any leads. I thought Burns might have seen the girl in these woods. That’s why we are here. And then someone started shooting at us.’

  ‘Well, you only have one day left, Officer Crowley, before you return to your normal duties.’ Chief Tanner joined them around the bodies. ‘Maybe this unfortunate incident has something to do with Ms Snow’s life before she arrived in town.’ He stared directly at Astrid. ‘I don’t see why else a group of assassins with no fingerprints would be here if there wasn’t a connection to the British Secret Service. What about you, Ms Snow?’

  ‘One day and one night,’ Astrid said to him.

  He removed his hat and scratched at his bulbous forehead. ‘What?’

  ‘Grace still has tonight and tomorrow with me, according to our agreement, Chief.’

  He squashed the hat back on to his head. ‘And what if my Detectives want to spend tonight questioning the two of you about this debacle?’

  Astrid smiled at him and stepped over the closest body. ‘We already gave statements to your uniformed officers before you arrived. Now I have to get cleaned up before exploring the rest of this lovely town of yours.’ She moved past Dr Jones and the Detectives and headed towards the door, watching the Coroner grin at her.

  Grace followed her outside. ‘We need to go to the hospital. You can’t do anything in your condition.’

  The laugh burst from Astrid’s ribs like one of those creatures from the Aliens movies. She picked at the dried blood on her forehead.

  ‘Most of this is superficial and worse than it looks.’ She flexed her shoulders and stared at her partner. ‘I’m more concerned about you.’

  Grace narrowed her eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

  ‘What happened with you and Manny while I was out front?’

  Officer Crowley crossed her arms as she leant to the side. ‘They never got inside, not with the bullets we sprayed out those windows.’ Her lips trembled as she spoke. ‘I don’t know how he got hit.’ She released her arms. ‘I should have prote
cted him.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Grace.’ Behind then, Dr Jones was organising the removal of the bodies. ‘None of this was.’

  ‘If we’d stayed away, if I’d stayed away, this wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘We don’t know that.’ Astrid watched as a man with no throat was lowered into a vehicle. ‘Until we find out who those people were, we won’t know the reason for any of this.’

  ‘Do you think Tanner is right, and there’s a connection to your work with the Agency?’

  Astrid shrugged. ‘I doubt it, but hopefully Jones will get something from the autopsies to identify them. Now we need to head back and prepare for tonight.’

  ‘What are we doing tonight?’

  They walked from the cabin, avoiding the Forensic team checking the grounds, and towards their car.

  ‘Have you forgotten about our rendezvous at the bar?’

  Grace puffed out her cheeks. ‘You think that kid can tell us something useful?’

  Astrid twisted her head to the side, watching the police dismantle all of Manny’s traps.

  ‘She was hiding something from us earlier. Perhaps she’ll feel more comfortable talking at the bar. I want to know if she’s aware of those tunnels Manny mentioned.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell them what he said about seeing Katie coming out of the ground and running from someone, plus the fact Alex Sanchez was at his place? He might have been the last person to see her.’

  They reached the car as the temperature dropped a few degrees. Astrid’s fingers tingled as she put her hand on the car; either all the pain had vanished from her, or her mind was doing its usual excellent job of hiding it.

  ‘The less they know, the better. The only people I trust are you and me.’

  Grace closed the door behind her and started the engine. ‘Okay, we’ve got a couple of hours before hitting the bar. I don’t know about you, but I need coffee and a shower. Do you have a clean change of clothes?’

  Astrid peered at the blood on her shirt and trousers, none of which was her own.

  ‘Only what I wore yesterday that you put in the wash. Are you going to lend me some of yours?’

  The car skidded out of the dirt as Grace laughed. ‘We’d have to take a pair of scissors to them first. No, we’ll stop at the store and buy you some new ones, and then I’ll make sure the others are dry.’

  ‘Are you trying to get me out of my clothes, Officer Crowley?’

  Grace ignored the loaded question. ‘We can go to the bar early and have something to eat there. How does that sound?’

  Astrid leant into the seat and contemplated a hot shower, fresh clothes, junk food, and a few drinks. She didn’t give a thought to who had attacked them. That would come later.

  ‘That sounds great, partner,’ she said as they sped out of the woods.

  Two hours later, they sat in one of the worst bars Astrid had ever visited, and she’d been in a few. Grubby posters advertising groups with terrible names, lurid strip shows and karaoke nights covered the walls. She was wearing the tightest jeans she could find in the shop, a fine Paisley shirt from a discounted rail, and a black leather jacket. Grace had paid for everything.

  They hadn’t spoken about what had happened. There was so much for Grace to process, with the revelation of the events at the well, her parents’ death, and then the attack and Manny’s passing, that Astrid didn’t want to create an emotional overload in her. She’d decided the best thing to do was focus on finding Alex and checking out the Valhalla bar, hoping Polly turned up or it would all be for nothing.

  She swept the sawdust from the table and glanced around the establishment. The place was pretty full when they got there, and it was only Grace’s towering presence that helped them get a spot.

  Grace scanned the room.

  ‘It bothers me to see so many underage kids in here.’

  ‘But not the one we came for,’ Astrid said as a doe-eyed waitress brought them the food they’d ordered twenty minutes ago.

  A giant burger and fries sat on a plate far too small for them. Astrid didn’t care; her stomach roared, and she fed it as quickly as possible. Grace only picked at her steak. In the mirror opposite, Astrid glanced at the scar on her forehead and considered who it was that had attacked Manny’s cabin: had they been there for him or them? Could Chief Tanner have been right about a connection to the Agency? She didn’t think so. Her only friend in the UK, perhaps the world, was in charge of the Agency, and he’d promised to keep her whereabouts known only to him.

  She turned from her reflection as the girl approached the table.

  ‘Can I have some of those?’ She took the empty seat and scooped half of Grace’s fries into her mouth.

  Grace frowned. ‘I need to have a word with the owners of this place.’

  Polly spat bits of food on to the dirty floor as she spoke. ‘Don’t bother. They won’t serve alcohol to kids, no matter how much we try and get it.’ She reached out for a bottle of beer, but Astrid snatched it from her. ‘It’s easier and cheaper to buy booze in town anyway. We only come here for the music, and it’s safer than anywhere else for people like us.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Astrid said as a group of scowling youths clambered up on to the stage with their instruments.

  ‘All the misfits and the freaks the respectable peeps don’t like have to find their community somewhere. It might as well be here.’ Polly finished speaking and chewed through the steak Grace had left. Astrid stared at them and wondered if this was the start of a beautiful friendship. ‘I thought you two would know something about that.’

  ‘What?’ Grace said.

  Polly spoke through a mouthful of food. ‘You must have been bullied all your life, being so tall. And I heard about what happened to you as a kid, falling down that well. I guess all the kids had a right go at you after that.’ She picked a piece of meat from between her teeth. ‘And English here, I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about her which I’m sure gets up people’s noses. I bet she’s taken plenty of grief in her time, and I can see why.’

  Astrid emptied the bottle and signalled the bartender for another. Grace glared at her as she clung to her orange juice.

  ‘Was Alex Sanchez one of those people, one of those freaks, or Katie Spencer?’

  Polly chewed on a fry. ‘Lots of peeps come here. I can’t keep track of everyone, especially when the band is playing.’

  As she said that, Riversludge started: two skinny kids on guitars and an even thinner girl bashing the drums as if her life depended on it. They played like a freight train crashing through a wall, combining the Ramones and Husker Du. The first song lasted no more than sixty seconds, and there was no gap as they blasted straight into the next one.

  Grace screwed down her eyes and put her hands over her ears. ‘Is it always this loud?’

  Polly bobbed her head up and down and ignored the oldies. Astrid pushed against the seat, focused on the show, and let her mind drift back to her teenage years and plenty of other bars not too dissimilar to this one, but a world away. The kids shouted about kicking against the status quo and starting a revolution. About forty people in front of the stage, both young and old, bounced around on the floor. There was no sense of aggression, no threat of violence, and she understood why some would feel safe and connected there. Even the stink of sweat and stale beer put a smile on her face.

  She leant into Polly so she could hear her over the din.

  ‘Did you ever see Alex or Katie in here?’

  Noise washed over them as the girl thrashed through the drums as if she was a bear on a rampage, while the two on guitars thrust against the strings so much, they dripped blood on to the stage.

  ‘Katie loved it here,’ Polly replied above the racket. ‘She was always talking about starting her own group. I never saw Sanchez here. I guess she was too busy trying to change the world.’

  She said it without malice as if it was an afterthought. On the stage, one of the girls d
ropped her guitar to the floor and knelt in front of her bandmate, pretending to lick the strings on the bass.

  ‘Did that bother the other kids, Alex’s activism?’

  Polly’s mouth creased into laughter, but Astrid couldn’t hear it above the music, which reached an ear-piercing crescendo. It lasted for a minute before the band collapsed, including the drummer who threw her sweaty body onto her colleagues. Astrid reckoned they must have played twenty songs in fifteen minutes.

  She asked Polly the question again.

  ‘Why would any of us care about that stuff? She kept out of our way, so we left her alone.’

  She had her fingers around the bottle of beer before Astrid realised and snatched it from her.

  ‘What about the adults in the town? Did she bother any of them with her protests and videos?’

  Polly projected a sneer worthy of Sid Vicious at his best; or worst. ‘Maybe some of them did, I don’t know, but I always felt Sanchez was more concerned with what effect she was having in New York than what she was doing here.’ A spontaneous round of applause erupted around the bar as the group tumbled off the stage.

  ‘What do you mean about New York?’ Astrid said as Grace moved closer to her.

  ‘She went there every weekend, sometimes during the week, that’s what I heard. So she could meet up with other Social Justice Warriors and make her videos and internet posts. Angel Falls wasn’t big enough for her, and she made that clear to everyone she met. It doesn’t surprise me she ran away from this dump. I think you might be looking in the wrong place for her, English.’ Polly slipped out of her chair, ready to leave them and head back to people her age. ‘And anyway, there are worse things here for kids than whatever Sanchez was mixed up in. Just ask your friend over there.’ She pointed towards the bar and the woman staring at them.

  Astrid was both surprised and pleased to see Detective Julie Cope smiling at her.

  17 She Floated Away