by Colin Garrow
The Demon of Devilgate Drive
By Colin Garrow
Distributed by Amazon
Copyright 2017 Colin Garrow
Amazon Edition, License Notes
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for Calum
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
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About the Author
One
Jimmy Brick wasn't like other kids.
For a start, he didn't go to school, or at least, not often enough to be considered a regular attendee. Our English teacher used to say Jimmy Brick was a very bad egg (whatever that meant), and would come to no good. On the days Jimmy didn't turn up for school, Mr Taylor would sigh heavily, tuck the register under one arm and trudge off to the headmaster's office to report yet another absent child.
Don't get me wrong - most of the kids who should've been there, were there, it was only Jimmy who went missing on a regular basis. But let's be honest - he wasn't really missing. Mr Taylor (and everyone else for that matter), knew exactly where Jimmy Brick would be - down at Harry McSpawn's pool hall on Nightmare Alley.
Okay, I know what you're thinking - there isn't really a street called Nightmare Alley. But actually, there is. And that's one of the funny things about this town - nothing's the way you expect it to be, and it isn't only the street names that're weird. But I guess you'll realise that before much longer.
Normally when Mr Taylor gets back from reporting Jimmy for being absent, he'll launch into some story about the perils of wilful children. And there'll always be one of those morals at the end of it, intended to inspire in us the errors of rebellious attitudes - like if you're stupid enough to take a long walk off a short pier, you'll get wet, and so on.
But on this particular day, the one I'm telling you about, it was different.
I was sitting next to Idle Billy as usual, just in front of Fat Bob and Davey Spitt, and as we were in the middle of double-geometry, I was bored before the lesson even started. Having already used up half an hour drawing a tolerable sketch of Harriet Slackbottom in the back of my exercise book, I'd moved on to passing notes across the aisle to Suzi Q. Suzi winked at me and slipped the latest missive under her jotter.
Me and her passed notes to each other all the time and I'm sure Mr Taylor knew about it, but usually he didn't take any notice. And it wasn't as if our notes said anything bad, like 'show us your knickers' or anything like that. In this case, I was reminding Suzi about coming over to mine for tea. Which I didn't really need to do, cos she only lives two minutes down the road from me and we nearly always walk home together.
So I was a bit surprised when Mr Taylor blew a total fuse.
'Jefferson Starship!' he bellowed. 'What in Damnation's Almighty Universe are you up to now?'
I bit my lip. Mr Taylor only called me Jefferson Starship when he was really mad about something.
'Nothin sir.'
He glared at me and I tried to stare at the bridge of his nose the way Dad had told me to do, so it would seem like I was gazing steadily into his eyes. But then I got distracted by the glare from his bald head and before I knew it, my eyes were all over the place, a circumstance that was bound to make me look suspicious.
In three long strides, he was standing over me, hand outstretched. 'Give.'
I looked up at him, all innocence. 'What, Sir?'
He blew out his cheeks and made that Baaaaah sound he always does when he's annoyed. He glared down at me, then swivelling his head, turned to Suzi.
'Miss Charlton?'
I'd been giving Suzi lessons in the art of deception, instructing her on how to appear innocent of all charges, but Suzi hadn't quite got the hang of it yet and consequently her pale blue eyes flicked straight to the exercise book on the desk in front of her.
Taylor grabbed the book and extracted my note. 'Ah. The guilty are undone. Mwah, hah hah.' (He always said Mwah, hah hah when he thought he'd got the upper hand). Then turning back to me, he crooked a finger in a come-hither motion.
I followed him out into the corridor amid muttered jeers of You're dead! and Jeffy's a gonner.
Closing the classroom door, Mr Taylor let out one of his longest sighs ever. I could smell coffee on his breath and a hint of the peppermints he'd sucked after having a crafty cigarette outside the school gates.
Keeping his gaze on me, he unfolded the note then lowered his eyes for a second to read it.
'Hmm. Hardly a literary masterpiece, Mr Starkey.'
I shrugged.
He sniffed and handed the note back to me. 'Sorry about the subterfuge, Jeff, but I need you to do something for me.'
I glanced at the door and caught sight of Fat Bob's grinning visage through one of the lower panes. When I looked back, there was a hint of desperation in my teacher's face I hadn't seen before.
Inwardly, I groaned. 'Again?'
'Headmaster's going mental. I don't know what else to do.' He inclined his head to one side in a way that reminded me of a puppy hoping for a treat. 'He's acting like it's all my fault. I mean, how can it be my fault - I'm only a sodding teacher?'
'I'll talk to Jimmy if you like,' I said, 'but it won't make any difference.' I shook my head. 'It'd take somethin bigger than both of us to get him back into school.'
He laid a hand on my shoulder. 'Thanks Jeff, and...' Lowering his voice, he leaned forward. 'And don't tell your mother, eh?'
After school, I made a dash for the gates. Suzi was already there, tapping her foot in mock annoyance.
'Where were you?' she said. 'I've been here half an hour.'
'I've told you a million times, stop exaggerating.'
She laughed, even though she'd heard it on four hundred and twenty previous occasions.
As usual, she slipped her hand in mine and as usual, I shook it off until we were out of sight of the gates and the hordes of kids pouring out behind us. We turned left and headed down the lane that led to the beach, knowing almost everyone else would be going in the opposite direction.
Living on this side of town made it easier to avoid the others and their snidey comments. Besides, walking home was one of the few times me and Suzi got the chance to have a proper chat without grown-ups being around. The only problem was it meant walking past Haggerty's Park, and at this time of year when the nights were drawing in, the place gave me the jitters.
'So what was all that about?'
'I'm sure you can guess,' I said, taking her hand.
'Jimmy Brick?'
I glanced behind to check we were alone. 'I said I'd speak to him.'
'Why? Taylor should do it. He's the teacher.'
'I know, but it's not his fault - it's that new head. Cracking the whip, by the sounds of it.'
'Serves him right -
shouldn't be a teacher if he can't control the class. And that new bloke...' She blew a raspberry. 'Grumpy git told me off the other day for not wearing a regulation head band. Tch.'
I wasn't going to argue with her - when Suzi got on her high horse about something, it was best to shut up. We walked in silence for a while then she said, 'So are we going to see Jimmy, then?'
I made a face. 'Nah. We've got the whole weekend to do that. And anyway, Give us A Quizzing Clue's on tonight. We can watch it after tea.'
Suzi stopped walking and gave me one of those looks. The ones that confirm I've been busted.
'Aw come on, Suzi,' I said, waving my hands around as if that would somehow make a difference. 'We'll be better off going tomorrow. When it's light.'
She nodded sagely. 'I know what this is about - you don't want to walk through Haggerty's Park in the dark.' She grinned in that sly way she has. 'Not scared, are you?'
'Course not, but you know what happened last time?'
She stared hard at me for a long moment, her eyes fixed on mine. 'It wasn't me that ran away.'
'Well, no, but...'
'But nothing, if we cut through the Park it'll only take ten minutes to get to Jimmy's and we can be back at yours in time for tea. So what's the problem?'
She was right about it being me who ran away last time, but that was only because of the thing at the edge of the cemetery - the thing I'd imagined was floating above the ground and silently gliding towards us (as any ghost worth its salt would be bound to do). I'd like to think that deep down I'd known it was an old pair of overalls hanging from a tree. But it was dark.
'You were scared as well,' I said, trying to save face.
'You're flippin' right I was - because you left me standin' there in the middle of the cemetery like an idiot. Anyway, that's not the point.'
Five minutes later, we'd clambered up the steep incline and over the wall on the east side of Haggerty's Park. I'd always thought it strange the cemetery was so high up - if Skeleton Cove had been a mining town, this would have been the slag heap, rising above the community like a forlorn reminder of its past. I preferred to think of it as the ruins of a some sort of medieval fortress, where pagan chieftains carried out ancient rites.
Normally, we'd be able to see all the way down to the beach from up here, but even though it wasn't totally dark yet, there was a gloom hanging over the place that made me feel uneasy. Just like in those old horror films, a low mist slithered over the ground as we dropped down onto the grass. I took a deep breath and told myself there was nothing to be scared of - that I was only nervous at the thought of all the dead folk poking their bony fingers through the earth and reaching up towards us, ready to drag our young bodies down into the –.
'Jeff!'
I jumped at the sound of her voice, then gave her a playful punch. 'Don't do that - I nearly filled my pants.'
Suzi giggled and took off across the grass towards the central path that ran between the two main sections of gravestones.
We reached the other side without incident and clambered over the wall.
'There you are - what did I tell you?' said Suzi.
'Whatever,' I said, and crossed over Stranger's Lane to the junction of Lonely Walk Road. 'Come on then, if you're coming.'
Jimmy Brick lived halfway along in a house that stood by itself. On this side of the street, all the houses had long front gardens, whereas the ones on the other side were bounded by high walls and wooden gates. Jimmy used to say that was because the posh people over there didn't want the scroungers from over here looking into their living room windows and watching them eat their posh food.
I stopped at number 15 and walked up the overgrown path, kicking aside the occasional tree branch or dustbin lid. Suzi stayed behind me while I banged on the door.
The woman who answered looked a bit peculiar, then I realised it was Mrs Brick with her hair in curlers and a cucumber face-mask on. She looked at us, sniffed and pulled her bathrobe around herself. 'Yeh? Whatcha want?'
'Is Jimmy in?' I said.
She sniffed again and shook her head. 'Course not, he's at school.' She jerked her head at Suzi. 'Where you two should be an'all.'
I glanced back at Suzi and pulled a face, then assuming my bog-standard 'serious' look, I said, 'School's over Mrs Brick. Didn't you know?'
Her mouth dropped open and the cigarette perched on her bottom lip dropped to the ground. She muttered something I couldn't hear, then shrugged. 'Be on his way home then, won't he?'
'I expect so.'
'Bleedin better be, or he'll get what's comin to him and that's a fact.'
I could tell from the way Suzi was digging her fingernails into my hand that she was irritated. Any minute now, she'd come out with some snarky comment we'd both regret. I squeezed her hand and hoped she'd get the message.
The woman was still staring at me. She raised an eyebrow. 'That it?'
I nodded and she slammed the door shut.
'Cripes,' whispered Suzi, 'what a cow! Looks like her face fell off and somebody stuck it back on with sellotape.'
Giving her a push, I started back up the path. 'Good thing this is Friday, then.'
'Why?' she asked when we were back on the pavement. 'What happens on a Friday?'
'She puts her teeth back in.'
Suzi thumped me. 'So what now?'
I looked at my watch. 'Haven't time to go anywhere else. We'll have to look for him tomorrow.'
I ignored my friend's pained expression and turned towards home, as the rain began to fall.
Give us a Quizzing Clue had just started as me and Suzi slid our dirty plates into the kitchen sink.
'Thanks Mrs Starkey, that was fab.'
My mum patted Suzi's arm. 'You're welcome, love. Now why don't you go and watch your programme while Jeff does the washing up for me?'
'You what?' I said, astonished.
She waved the tea towel at me and winked. 'Go on, then. But mind I'll expect your bedroom tidied up this weekend.'
The jaunty theme music was fading away as we flopped down onto the sofa in the living room. On any other day, while the host - Frank Davidson - introduced the contestants, we'd do the voices and come up with silly names and occupations for them.
'The name's Arnold Flange,' I said in a Yorkshire accent. 'An this is me wife, Petticoat Flange.'
I laughed, but Suzi didn't seem to be listening. She was staring out of the window, chewing her bottom lip the way she always did when she was thinking.
'Flange,' I said again. 'Arnold Flange.'
'You think he's still out there?'
I turned to follow her gaze, but it was proper dark now and we couldn't see a thing. 'I dunno. Who?'
'Jimmy, of course.'
'Nah. Be down at the pool hall, I expect.'
She shook her head. 'It shuts at six.'
I glanced at the telly. Frank had finished his bit of banter and was getting ready to ask the first question. 'Then he'll be away home, won't he.'
She rolled her eyes. 'You've seen his mother - if that was your house would you be going home tonight?'
I suppressed a sigh and shuffled round to face the TV again. 'Come on, look, they're starting.' I could feel Suzi's eyes boring into me. Gazing straight ahead, I tried to concentrate on the quiz. I held out as long as I could, but knew it would only be a matter of time, so finally, I gave in. 'What d'you want to do?'
'We'll have to go down there. To Nightmare Alley.'
Two
'Keep to the main road, mind,' warned Mum as we let ourselves out the front door. It was sensible advice, especially on a Friday night, although as Suzi's house was just up the next road and round the corner, we could hardly get lost. In any case, me and Suzi weren't going to her house - we had things to do and sticking to the road wasn't one of them.
It was pitch black outside. This was one of the few occasions I'd have been happy to see a full moon, but if there'd been one that night, it was doing a great job of hiding behind the clou
ds.
At the end of my street, we turned right and headed for the line of shops that ran alongside the ruins of Fat Moe's, which had burned down the previous winter. At this time of night there'd only be a couple of places open. The welcoming lights of The Cod Piece and Tuck Inn made me feel a little less nervous about where we were going. Still, the neon signs wouldn't light our way for long and soon we were round the corner and into Crucifixion Close.
From here we had two choices - going left led to Jimmy's house; right would take us to Nightmare Alley. I looked at Suzi. 'Which way?'
'I really don't think he'll be at home, but I suppose we should check, just in case.'
That's what I wanted to hear, even though I had to agree it was unlikely Jimmy would have gone home - at least not while that fierce mother of his was up and about.
Suzi grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers rather more eagerly than I'd have liked. I noticed a couple of the streetlights were out, making the Close a lot darker than usual. Pulling Suzi across to the other side, I stayed nearest the lamps that were still working.
It took us five minutes more to reach Jimmy's house.
Apart from a single light bulb burning in the kitchen, the place was in darkness. We made our way up the garden path as before, taking care not to trip over any of the rubbish littering the path.
At the door, we moved to the side and worked our way along to the window at the corner. Though the night was quiet, there was the faint hum of music coming from somewhere.
I knew from the last time I'd been in Jimmy's house that the small round window on the corner was the pantry. I remembered there was no door on it, so we should be able to see through the pantry into the kitchen itself.
Keeping low, I raised my head to look inside. Sure enough, the pantry door still hadn't been replaced and I could see Mrs Brick sitting at the kitchen table swathed in clouds of cigarette smoke. There was a bottle of some amber-coloured liquid on the table and a glass next to it, half-full of the same stuff. An old transistor radio sat on a grotty-looking Welsh dresser, churning out dirge-like rock music.