‘Eleven o’ clock,’ said Will. ‘And nobody uses that word any more.’
‘What word?’
‘Shindig?’
‘Oh, what do they call it these days?’
‘Hop?’ offered Jake. ‘Hooley?’
‘Gig,’ said Will. ‘There’s a band playing, so it’s a gig, right?’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Mum. ‘Anyway, whatever it’s called, we’ll wait for you at the gates.’
‘Thanks. I don’t expect I’ll . . .’ Will broke off as a couple of motorbikes overtook the car. He peered out of the side window but couldn’t really make out any details and when he looked to the front again, all he could see were the blurry red taillights, accelerating away into the distance.
‘Poor devils,’ muttered Jake. ‘I shouldn’t like to be riding one of those things on a filthy night like this. Must be soaked to the skin.’
They drove on in silence for a while. Mum switched on the radio and a plummy-voiced female presenter came on in mid-sentence:
‘ . . .series of severe weather warnings in the North West region. Police are asking motorists to stay at home unless the journey is absolutely necessary . . .’
Mum looked at Jake. ‘What do you think?’ she asked him.
‘Oh, it’s absolutely necessary that you meet my friends tonight,’ he assured her. ‘I’m sure the police would agree with me. And we can’t let Will miss his big night out, can we? Ah, here we are . . .’
They had reached the school. Jake turned off the road, drove in through the main entrance and onto the quadrangle. Will could see a few cars parked up and he caught a glimpse of shadowy figures running for the main building.
Ah well, he thought, here goes nothing.
He was about to get out when Jake handed him a newspaper. ‘There you go,’ he said.
Will looked at it, puzzled.
‘What’s this for?’ he asked.
Jake mimed the action of holding it over his head.
‘You don’t want your makeup to run, do you?’ he said.
‘No. Thanks. See you both later.’ He got out of the car into the stinging onslaught of wind and rain and was instantly glad that Jake had given him the paper. He opened it, held it flat over his head and peered towards the school building.
A flash of lighting rent the sky, momentarily freezing the rods of rain in the air above him. Despite the downpour, he caught the sulphurous stink of the lightning and felt a stir of unease rise within him.
There was no time to think about it. He ran across the quadrangle, his feet splashing through puddles. Jake sounded his horn as he drove away. Will waved one hand wildly, but didn’t slow his pace.
It was only a short distance but by the time he had reached the school, the newspaper was turning to soggy mush in his hands. He bounded up the short flight of steps, pushed open the door and stepped inside. He threw the ruined paper into a litterbin by the entrance and turned to look along the corridor. It was completely deserted although he could hear the pulsing of distant music coming from the gym.
He shook his jacket to get the worst of the rain out of it and started to walk, his wet boots squelching on the parquet flooring. To his right, lay the cloakrooms. He was going to walk on by, but he paused when he heard a sound issuing from out of the darkness.
A soft, high-pitched giggle.
Will turned to stare into the gloom. He thought he saw something moving; something that shone with an unholy green glow.
‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Is somebody there?’
And then, with heart-stopping suddenness, the monster came lurching out of the darkness, arms outstretched to enfold him in a hideous embrace.
He had time for one scream before it was upon him.
TWENTY THREE
The thing slammed into him at speed and sent him sprawling to the floor. He landed on his back and slid up against the wall. His only thought was escape, but the creature’s long, bony arms were wrapped around his neck and its hideous, slobbering face was pressed against his chest, driving the breath out of him. And it was making these noises; horrible, grunting noises that sounded almost like some kind of demented laughter.
Desperately, Will twisted around in its grasp and got his hands up to the creature’s throat. He tried to push the head away from him. That was when he registered that the thing’s hideous, skull-like face was actually a latex mask and that the noises resembling muffled laughter were exactly that.
Realisation dawned in a mingled surge of relief and anger. He grabbed the top of the mask and yanked it upwards to reveal Terry’s laughing face.
‘You git!’ yelled Will. ‘You scared the bloody life out of me!’
Terry let Will go and pulled away a little. He was laughing so hard he was in danger of wetting himself.
‘Your face!’ he cackled. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought you were going to poo your pants!’
‘You bloody idiot!’ Will was almost incandescent with rage. ‘What’s the matter with you? Are you sick in the head or something? Christ! I thought I was dead!’
Another figure drifted out from the shadows of the changing room, a hideous crone in a black and purple witch’s outfit. It lifted a black-gloved hand and pulled off its own latex mask to reveal Asha, grinning her perfect grin, her dark eyes flashing with mischief.
‘Sorry, Will. I put him up to it. We saw you getting out of the car and we ran in here and hid. It was just too good to miss!’ She looked at Will’s angry expression and realised that the joke had misfired somewhat.
‘We . . . we thought you’d laugh about it,’ she said.
‘Oh yeah, really hilarious,’ gasped Will. ‘Tonight of all nights! You might have had more sense.’
‘But . . . it’s Halloween,’ protested Terry. He reached out and pinched Will’s cheek. ‘Trick or treat!’ he bellowed.
‘You spaz!’ Will pushed him away and got to his feet. His heart was still going like the clappers and if somebody had offered him an alcoholic drink at that moment, he would probably have downed it in one.
Now Terry got up off the floor, looking decidedly put out. ‘Well, honestly, if you can’t have a laugh at Halloween, when can you?’ he muttered. ‘You used to know how to have a laugh, Will. I mean look, I’m sorry about your dad and everything, but that was over a year ago. You’ve got to lighten up a bit.’
‘It’s not about my dad,’ snapped Will and then realised that in many ways that was a lie. ‘What I mean is . . . I’m just a bit . . . freaked. The weather and everything.’
‘It’s weird isn’t it?’ agreed Asha. ‘Like something out of the Bible. Cool outfit, by the way.’
‘What?’ Will had forgotten that he was in fancy dress. As if to remind him, the swing door at the top of the corridor opened and a bunch of kids came trooping in. They comprised a Count Dracula, a white shrouded ghost, a shaggy gorilla and a green space alien. They all made ghostly noises as they went by. Halfway up the corridor, they turned in through the open doors of the gym.
‘Isn’t Sophie with you?’ asked Asha.
‘No. She’s supposed to be meeting us here,’ muttered Will. ‘And before you ask, no, I don’t know what she’s coming as. It’s a surprise.’
Asha grimaced. ‘I think somebody got out of bed the wrong side this morning,’ she observed.
Will began to feel bad. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have had a good laugh about all this. But tonight was no ordinary night and he was totally unable to relax.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind. You both look great, really.’ He pointed at Terry. ‘You made that costume, Asha?’
‘Yeah. You should see him in the dark!’
‘I think I did,’ said Will. ‘About one second before he crashed into me.’ He sighed. ‘Come on, let’s go and see what’s happening.’
They made their way down the corridor to the open doors of the gym. They stood in the doorway, surveying the scene. The school had evidently worked
quite hard on this one. The theatre department had rigged up a light show and the flashing, flickering effects would have given the storm outside a run for its money. Up on the stage, a DJ was crouched over a couple of decks and was blasting out a hot tune. The dance floor was already packed. Although it was more usual at this early stage to have the girls dancing while gangs of boys watched in total boredom, the fact that everybody was masked and costumed seemed to have lowered people’s inhibitions.
The area in front of the stage was a press of flailing, gyrating figures dressed in a whole variety of weird and wonderful costumes. Vampires danced with witches, pirates cavorted with aliens, werewolves shimmied with monsters and just about every possible creature combination was out there strutting their stuff.
‘Cool!’ said Asha. She grabbed Terry’s arm. ‘Come on, I love this one!’
‘Can’t we grab a drink first?’ asked Terry as Asha dragged him in the general direction of the dance floor. Will followed, wondering if any of the female creatures out there might be Sophie. He wasn’t a big fan of dancing at the best of times, but he did his best to join in with Asha and Terry, shaking his arms about, wiggling his bum and generally doing all those things that people seemed to expect you to do on a dance floor. As he danced, he looked around, keeping an eye open for anything that might look suspicious.
The problem was that nothing tonight looked in any way ‘normal’. Over by the drinks table, for instance, he could see Mr Henderson, dressed as some kind of bat-like creature and there, dispensing fruit punch, was Mrs Dormond, the overweight French tutor, who had dolled herself up as some kind of medieval wench, complete with frilly lace blouse and crocheted shawl. The effect was fairly frightening but what it had to do with Halloween was anybody’s guess.
Other teachers prowled through the crowds, keeping an eye on the proceedings. Obviously they had all been told to enter into the spirit of things by dressing up for the occasion but some had been less than enthusiastic. Absolutely the worst effort had been made by Mr Ollerton, the physics master, who seemed to think that a pair of plastic vampire teeth and one solitary streak of red drool from the corner of his mouth constituted fancy dress.
As Will studied the scene, he was suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder. He turned in surprise to find himself looking at a slim, female vampire in a shocking white mask that covered her forehead and nose, leaving only her dark red painted mouth. She was wearing a long straight black wig, a tight black dress and a dark red hooded velvet cloak, which swept over her shoulders and hung down to her ankles.
She stepped up to him, slipped her arms around his waist and began to sway in rhythm with him, a dance that seemed designed to accompany much slower music than this one. He was immediately consumed by feelings of warmth and romance and his worries seemed to vanish in an instant. He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, ‘You look fantastic, Sophie.’
‘It’s not Sophie,’ said a familiar voice.
Will jolted in surprise.
He reached up and lifted the mask slightly to see Amy’s elfish features looking out at him.
‘What are you doing here?’ he gasped.
She smiled.
‘Just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone tonight.’ She spoke directly into his ear in order to be heard over the pounding music. ‘Expect to see some other familiar faces.’ She settled the mask back into place. ‘You’re a good dancer, by the way!’
‘Er . . . thanks. Look, I’m not being funny, but you’re making me feel weird.’
‘I have that effect on men,’ she grinned. ‘Catch you later, son of Adam.’ She released him and moved off through the crowd, still swaying to the music. Some of the other lads on the dance floor turned their heads to watch her. Will turned away and found himself looking at another woman, this time a wicked, fairy-tale queen in a brilliant red velvet dress. She, too, had a mask over the top part of her face, but her red lips were twisted into a frown of disapproval and her hands were placed indignantly on her hips.
‘Excuse me,’ said Will, trying to step past her to Asha and Terry. The Red Queen threw out a hand to stop him in his tracks.
‘Who was that you were dancing with?’ she yelled.
Will stared at her.
‘Sophie?’ he said.
‘Yes! Sorry if I interrupted something!’
‘What?’ Will stared at her in bewilderment and then understood what she was on about. ‘Oh, you mean that woman? Er . . . that girl? I don’t even know who she was. I . . . I thought she was you!’
Sophie clearly wasn’t convinced.
‘Oh, yeah? Is that why you were whispering into each other’s ears?’
‘Yes . . . no . . . I mean . . .’ He made a valiant attempt to change the subject. ‘You look absolutely amazing,’ he said. ‘Really, that costume, it’s . . . fantastic!’
Now Asha and Terry had recognised Sophie and they moved in to join the conversation. In the shouted comments, that ensued, the bad moment seemed to pass and it seemed that Sophie had believed Will because when he stepped up to her again she put her arms around him and allowed him to guide her around the dance floor.
The track finished and the DJ announced that Mr Henderson had a few words to say and in the silence, they could finally hear the terrible sound of thunder from outside. The decks were removed by a couple of stagehands and a curtain lifted, revealing a drum kit and a couple of amplifiers. Mr Henderson, dressed in his homemade bat outfit, approached a microphone and blew into it, making it emit an ear-splitting screech of feedback. When that finally settled, he began to talk in a frankly, embarrassing sub-Bela Lugosi accent.
‘Velcome, creatures of the night,’ he said. ‘To our fang-tastic Halloween Ball. You know, it’s wonderful to see so many vile, disgusting creatures on ze dance floor. Last time I saw such an ugly crowd, it vas in ze teacher’s common room.’ He paused and was met by a baffled silence. He pressed on regardless, abandoning his attempts at impersonation and continuing in something far more sinister; his own voice.
‘Now, boys and girls, it’s time for some live entertainment. I’ve got some bad news and some good news for you. The bad news first. The band who were originally booked to play tonight, the exciting local beat combo, The Creatures, have alas, had to cancel at the last minute . . .’
A groan went up from the crowd. The Creatures played regularly around the area and were extremely popular. Mr Henderson held up his large hands to quieten the audience.
‘However, I am delighted to announce that another . . . er . . . popular beat group were able to step in at the last minute. I have it on very good authority that this group really are the . . . the bee’s knees as far as rock and roll goes. They produce foot-tapping, high energy dance music that will get you all jiving and twisting the night away.’
Will and Terry exchanged looks. Judging by the way he was describing it, Mr Henderson had evidently stopped listening to music around 1963.
‘So, without further ado, I give you the rocking sounds of . . . The Watchers!’ He stepped down off the stage and scuttled away through the crowd and Will stood, staring open-mouthed as some familiar figures emerged from the curtains at the back. Reg with an electric guitar draped around his neck, Marc, carrying a bass, and shuffling along in their wake, Wormy, who immediately settled himself onto the drum stool. And finally, Amy, in her slinky vampire gear.
‘That’s the girl you were dancing with!’ said Sophie.
‘Is it?’ muttered Will.
‘Of course it’s her!’ Sophie fixed him with a withering look. ‘Who is she?’
Will could only spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. He couldn’t imagine what this bunch were going to sound like.
‘They’re all cripples,’ said Terry. ‘They should call themselves the Hunchbacks, not the Watchers!’
‘You shouldn’t mock the afflicted,’ Asha told him. ‘One of my cousins has a club foot and he gets an awful amount of nasty comments from people.’
‘Yeah,
but I bet he doesn’t play in a band with three other club-footed people.’
‘Pipe down, Terry,’ snapped Will. ‘Give them a chance, will you?’
The Watchers had been plugging in their instruments and checking their volume levels. Now Amy stepped up to the microphone and looked out at the ranks of expectant faces.
‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘We’re the Watchers. It’s nice to see you.’
Will noticed that all the boys near the edge of the stage were already gazing up at her in apparent devotion.
‘Our music is all about dancing,’ said Amy. ‘If I see anybody not dancing, I’ll be forced to come down there and administer some punishment.’ She paused for a moment and then smiled enchantingly. ‘This first song is kind of like an anthem of ours. I hope you enjoy it.’
She pointed at Wormy and the little man started hitting a steady four-four rhythm, the drums so loud they seemed to be punching Will repeatedly in the chest. Marc came in with a thudding bass rhythm and Reg struck a chord sequence that was so simple yet so totally compelling, that despite himself, Will felt his limbs twitching and moving to the music. And as he watched, others in the crowd started moving too. Finally, Amy came in with the lyrics, her voice lower and more sensuous than he would have expected.
Welcome to the game of life.
Raise your fist and throw the dice.
In everything you say and do
Remember, we are watching you.
Throughout each day and each dark night
We’re here to lead you to the light
When night falls hard and you feel blue
Remember, we are watching you.
They were brilliant. Will had to admit it. The song was insanely simple and they didn’t seem to be doing anything different to lots of other bands he could think of and yet . . . and yet, there was something so exciting in what they were saying and the way they were saying it, that he just had to obey the instincts their music was stirring within him. He had to dance. It was as though he couldn’t stop himself.
He looked around and saw that everybody else felt the same. If the dancing had been wild before, now it was ecstatic. People seemed to move with one accord, their hands raised, their heads thrown back, blissful smiles upon their faces. Will even saw Mr Henderson, over at the drinks table, dancing wildly with Mrs Dormond, who was in serious danger of bursting out of her wench’s blouse.
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