The Tide of Terror

by Stuart G. Yates

  She was determined not to cry, but this last thought brought her close. But then, from somewhere deep within, she mustered up something beyond courage. Sheer, unbridled anger. Leaping to her feet, she kicked and hammered at the door repeatedly, screaming out with all the venom she could muster, “Let me out of here!”

  The silence that followed was intense. For a moment she stood there, not daring to relieve that she was totally alone. The panic gripped her even more tightly now and she began to attack the door again, this time relentlessly, kicking, pummelling it, her voice almost breaking with hysteria, “Let me out, damn you – let me out!” Over and over, repeating the words until her throat, raw from the shrieking, finally gave out and she slid down to the ground, all the fight drained from her, and lay there, whimpering quietly.

  Sometime later – she had no way of knowing how long as her watch had been taken – the little oil lamp went out. It put up a brave fight, but now all of its fuel was spent, and the room plunged into darkness. The only light, a thin strip that seeped in along the bottom of the door. Jenny sat up, not knowing what to do, feeling the walls pressing in on her, imagining all sorts of terrible things. Spiders and rats, emerging from secret hideaways, safe now that the dark was here, would soon be advancing on her, walking all over her, nipping at her fingers, her toes.

  She screamed, jumping to her feet, swiping away the invisible, imagined beasts. Then she began to slap her face, both cheeks, over and over, increasing the tempo and the strength, accompanying this with a wild, incoherent rant, losing control of her senses, her mind a jumble of terrifying images and thoughts. Would she ever get out, was she doomed to die here, alone and forgotten? It was too much and she fell to the ground once more, broken and defeated.

  A voice came to her, a voice she knew. It was close, very close. In the room perhaps. At least, it sounded as though it was. But that couldn't be. She shook herself, like a dog from a bath, freeing herself of the constraints of fear that had shackled her. The voice was in her head, but it was calm, commanding. She felt better for its presence.

  “You are safe. Do not fear, soon you will be free. Trust me.”

  So she sat, on her knees, wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand and then the front of her sweat-shirt. She sat and waited, knowing that the voice spoke the truth and that soon she would be free. She didn't know how, but she trusted the words that had come to her and as she sat she gathered her strength, regained her composure, and began to think more clearly.

  It was with this clearer head that she began to hear the foot tread. It began from a long way off, steady and even, almost like the stomp of a soldier on parade. As it came closer, she found herself turning to imagination again. Not a soldier at all, more like a robot. A metronome of a walk. The walk of one possessed.

  Jenny shuffled away from the door. The walker was almost outside and when it stopped, directly outside the door, she was standing up, pressed into the furthest corner, staring through the blackness, the crack on the floor guiding her eyes to where the door was.

  The key juggled in the lock and with a solid clunk it was turned. A pause, awful and threatening in its silence. Then the door was pulled open.

  She shied away, closing her eyes as the brightness of the light momentarily blinded her. When she had recovered, she looked blinking at the silhouetted shape in the doorway. And as she watched, with growing disbelief, the figure turned and slowly plodded away without a single word.

  It took her a few moments before she summoned up enough courage to step over to the door and peer down the corridor. Down to the left, evenly distributed, windows, covered in thick iron bars, threw out grim, grey light, illuminating the stark, narrow corridor down which the figure was now retreating. Although she couldn't be absolutely certain, Jenny felt it was the younger of the two brothers. But he was different. Gone was his usual assuredness, replaced by a heaviness of the shoulders and legs, almost as if he were sleep-walking, his body controlled by someone, or something else.

  And that was it, of course it was!

  Without another thought she broke into a run, following the brother as he made his way to the main door and pushed it open. She eased past him and stepped out into a large courtyard. Jenny frowned as another realisation hit her. She was in an exercise yard. The place was a prison of some sort. But the burning question still remained, how did she get there?

  The brother had stopped and for the first time she looked at him more closely. His eyes were bulged, but remained unfocused and distant. His mouth hung open and his body had that heavy look, as if being dragged downwards, invisible weights dangling from his wrists, others pressing down on his shoulders. Locked in some sort of a trance, she had the slightly unnerving sense that he was going to topple forward, all control gone.

  A dark shape, blocking out the sun, suddenly descended and Jenny cowered away. It was the creature, or more accurately creatures, and they were descending from the sky, their great wings spread out, floating downwards as if from parachutes, silent, huge and immensely powerful. She watched, awe-struck, as they settled down in the yard, turning their eyes on her to study her with that intensity that she had come to expect but nevertheless dreaded. Her inner-being was once more being put through a thorough examination.

  One of the creatures stepped up next to the brother. It towered over him and she had a real sense of just how big it was. It was a fact that frightened her. These things were so imposing, so obviously powerful and this particular one seemed larger than all the others. Without warning, it leaned over towards the man, one of its arms shooting out, raking down his side with those long, evil looking claws. Jenny watched and she saw, first hand, what had happened to the animals which had been brought into the surgery less than a week ago. Four bloody stripes appeared on the brother's side. He didn't react, he was still in his trance. Perhaps it was for the best, for Jenny could see how the skin parted and the blood oozed out. If he had been conscious, he would have lost control, she was sure of it. She knew he would, it looked so painful.

  If Jenny had thought that this was beyond endurance, then what happened next was beyond any understanding. Without the man undergoing any perceptible change, save from the blood that which had been trickling down his side stopping, he simply disappeared. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

  Jenny gaped, then slowly turned to look at the assembled creatures.

  “Go to the tunnel. Awaiting there is truth, Jenny. And answers.”

  She nodded. Answers. Yes, she certainly needed plenty of those. And as the creatures drifted up into the sky, in that slow, effortless way, a door in the far wall opened, revealing the way out. With no hesitation, Jenny took it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Away from the actual courtyard, or exercise yard, Jenny could get a better sense of where she was. Now that her head was clearer and most of her fear had gone, she could try and piece together what she had seen and what it meant. The creatures, whatever they were, had considerable telepathic powers which they could use to control and, in her case, guide. The attacks on the animals were still a puzzle. Why would they do that? And what had happened to them afterwards? The younger brother had obviously been taken somewhere, of this she was sure. He hadn't been killed. The thought had begun to grow in her mind that the creatures were in some way collecting specimens. Why she had this idea she wasn't sure, but it seemed to fit. On the face of it, the creatures appeared benevolent, brought here by sheer accident. A 'craft' meant that they had come from a distant world, this much she had already surmised. But, if they were here accidentally, why then did they feel the need to take specimens?

  What a horrible word that was, specimen, and she chided herself for using it. It put human beings in the same class as, well, butterflies. Perhaps going into the tunnels would solve part of this mystery. She hoped that the opposite wouldn't be the case and that actually things became even cloudier and more indistinct.

  She took a look around. The prison, if it could be called
that, was surrounded by a large embankment and the complex itself was set in a wide, deep depression which would shield it from any passers-by. Someone would have to know it was there in order to investigate it, because its concealment was almost perfect. On the far side, away from the door that led into the complex, was another door, set in a high wall. Jenny tried the handle and was relieved when it turned down and the door opened. She now found herself in a large garden. But not just any garden. This was the garden at the rear of the Burks' home. Cautiously she made her way across the grass, between the well-tended shrubs towards the house. There was a very grand looking conservatory, a large patio with wooden table and chairs, a barbecue. It was all very tasteful and normal. Beyond all of this, however, was another world, a world of detestable practices. The Burks were involved in training dogs to fight, a seedy, shadowy world that attracted the very worst elements of society. A world that was on the edge of the law and which dealt in the making of money out of the anguish and suffering of animals. Jenny hated it, every facet of it, and if she could she was going to do everything in her power to bring the Burks to justice.

  The back kitchen door, which was adjacent to the conservatory, suddenly opened just as Jenny drew level with it. It was the mother and she looked angry. Quickly, Jenny dived down next to the steps that led from the patio to the lawn. She didn't think they'd seen her yet, but she knew that if she stayed there and the mother approached, then she would be discovered. Holding her breath she waited, hoping against hope that the mother would take another route.

  The mother stood there, looking across the lawn towards the door which led to the concealed prison complex. Deep furrows ran across her forehead; lost in thought, she gnawed at her lip, then suddenly turned to go back into the house.

  Jenny sighed in relief as the kitchen door slammed shut, and she stood up straight. All at once a hand gripped her shoulder. Her knees buckled and she gave a little cry of despair as she looked into the face of the person who had come up behind her and seized hold of her.

  The older brother swung her round, his big, beery face glowing red with rage. Lips pulled back over his broken teeth; he snarled viciously and brought his right hand back, ready to slap her across the face.

  Despite her fear, Jenny twisted away, the blow hitting air as she dodged. She managed to turn her whole body around, jabbing her elbow back into the man's side. He gasped, staggered back a little, releasing his hold on her. It was the chance she needed and she broke into a run, making her way quickly to the front of the house. Head down, racing past the pens where they kept the dogs, across the yard towards the path that would take her to the main road.

  But the path was blocked.

  It was the mother, standing legs apart, a shotgun pointing unerringly towards Jenny, who pulled herself up abruptly, breathing fast. No one spoke. Jenny thought better of trying to flee and simply waited for the nightmare to continue. She didn't have to wait long.

  The elder brother, now recovered, took her by the neck and frog-marched her straight past the mother and into the front part of the house. At the living room he stopped, then shoved her harshly inside, causing her to stumble and fall down onto her knees. The door slammed and Jenny looked up to see him standing with his back against the door, glaring at her.

  “How did you get away?”

  There was no point in trying to prolong the agony, so she sat back, still on the carpet, and tried to keep her voice even. “The door was unlocked. I didn't know until I leant against it.”

  He frowned, shaking his head, “No, that can't be right. I locked it myself.”

  Jenny shrugged. “The other one, your brother, he came back, opened the door, just to see why I was shouting.”

  “Yeah…yeah, he said he could hear you. But why wouldn't he lock the door.” He loomed forward menacingly, “What have you done to him?”

  “Nothing. I told you, he came in, saw that I was fine, said some harsh things, then went out. I think he must have heard something.”

  “Heard something? Like what?”

  “I don't know – but whatever it was, he went running off down the corridor. He left the door unlocked, but I didn't realise until I leaned against it. Then I just ran, came through the yard and out of the door into your back garden. That's when you caught me.”

  “And where is Tom now?”

  “Tom?”

  “My brother, you idiot! Where did he go?”

  “I don't know. I thought he would have come back here.”

  “Well, he hasn't.” He screwed up his lip for a moment, thinking hard. Jenny prayed that her quickly made up tale would convince the man that her escape was merely some freakish accident. He was scratching his head and wasn't looking too convinced when the mother blasted into the room.

  “We've got a problem.” She drew in a deep breath. “It's the police.”

  They got her out through the rear and bundled her into the back seat of a big four-by-four vehicle. The brother gunned the engine and slowly drove it out of the yard whilst the mother was busy with the young policeman who had called at the door. Jenny, ordered to keep her head down, had no intention of trying anything brave, not at that moment. So she lay face pressed against the wrinkled leather of the seat, and thought about what she was going to do next.

  Sometime later, Jenny chanced a look through the window as the big vehicle was thrown across the lunar-like landscape of the far part of the island. They'd left the house and the hidden prison complex far behind and in all the rush and the panic she had barely given a thought for her poor little dog, Scruffy. She bit back the tears. If anything had happened to her, Jenny didn't know what she'd do. Hold the Burks responsible, or herself? She would have been better just leaving everything well alone. What was it she had been hoping to achieve, what could she have possibly done? The whole thing was senseless and now she was paying the price for her stupidity. Scruffy lost. Perhaps worse. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think of it too much.

  A great weight landed on the roof of the vehicle. The elder brother, driving, gave a jump of fright, and for one horrible moment almost lost control as the car hit the bank. He grappled with the steering wheel, throwing the car back onto the rutted track down which it was roaring along. Jenny cowered in her seat, trying to make herself small. She had seen something, something that the driver hadn't. A single claw, like a knife, sliced through the roof, ripping through the metal as if it were a mere sardine can. Then more claws, taking hold of the jagged gap and forcing it open with as much ease as one would open an envelope. It was one of the creatures and when it looked down and spotted Jenny it let loose a terrifying call, high-pitched and frighteningly loud.

  The brother broke sharply, flinging everything forward, including the creature, which cart-wheeled across the roof and landed in the dirt some three of four metres in front of the vehicle. Cursing loudly, the brother put the vehicle into reverse, craning his neck to look back. Then he stopped, rammed the car into first and gunned the engine, tyres squealing, sending up great spurts of mud and dirt. All the time he was screaming, gripped by the enormity of the situation, terrified by what he saw before him. But his intention was obvious: to run over the creature, squash it flat.

  Reacting quickly, Jenny threw her arm around his neck, yanking him backwards with all her might. He yelped as her grip tightened and instinctively his hands sprang from the steering wheel and clawed at her. Instantly, the vehicle went into a horrible spin, pirouetting around and around, all control gone as the brother clawed at Jenny's arm, trying to prize himself free. She clung on, pulling with every ounce of strength, teeth clenched, determined to do whatever she could to avert what would have been a horrendous death for the creature.

  His nails raked down her hand and she screamed. Before she knew it, she'd released him. Gasping, he managed to bring the vehicle to a halt and was out of the door without a pause.

  Jenny, holding onto her right hand with her left, followed him, kicking open the door and tumbling out. She
looked around, frantic, then spotted him, bounding across the open fields, turning to look behind every few seconds, a wild, terrified expression on his face.

  When she went to the bonnet, she leaned against it, looking around in disbelief.

  The creature had gone.

  The pain in her hand throbbed, his nails having gone in deeply. She suddenly grew concerned that she might pick up some sort of infection, his hands were so dirty, but then the scream cut through her worries. She looked up and saw, in disbelief, the creature swooping low to seize him by the shoulders and lift him up into the air, like a small rodent caught in the talons of an eagle. The sound of his cries was sickening and she looked away, swallowing down the bile rising into her throat.

  Soon, the brother's screams grew faint and she turned to find that both he and the creature were mere dots in the distance. Slowly, legs heavy, every moment a struggle, she got in behind the wheel, fired up the engine took the vehicle in the direction of the cliffs and the tunnel that Mark Burridge, and the creature, had told her to go and investigate.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Everything appeared as before. After she descended using the rope ladder, she made her way along the tunnel, into the space where she had first seen, albeit briefly, one of the creatures. Pausing for a moment to rake a shaking hand across her brow where the sweat sprouted, she went through one of the doors. Here the passageway, although dripping with damp, seemed in a better state of repair. However, as she trained her torch across the walls, she picked out the details of crumbling plaster, old, forgotten ceiling lights, and a twisting passageway that snaked on into the dark.

  The sound of yapping dogs came to her from far away, and her heart rate soared as she realised she was close to solving the mystery of where the Burks kept their fighting dogs. The thought sickened her. Trained to maul one another, sometimes to death, and all of it for money. Side-bets, organised meets, the selling of the best fighters. There was a lot of money to be made, all of it illegal, all of it based upon the calculated cruelty of animals. Her determination to stamp it out, now bolstered by the idea that the creatures had led her here, meant she was fully prepared to see this through to end, and bring those people to justice.