by G R Jordan
“There was a scream. No wait, that sounds too human. There was a noise like a cross between a fog horn and white noise. Painful and penetrating, yet having a deep enough resonance to believe there was an intelligence behind it. Then something hit my back. I was wearing the backpack and that probably saved me because the pack was sliced in two, dropping my other weapons, ammunition and various tools onto the floor. I knew where Austerley was, and I fired off a dispersed pattern into the dark, seeking out my attacker.
“Something grabbed my leg just below the knee, and I fell to the floor, scrabbling in the dark. Austerley was still alive as I could hear his squeals. I desperately fumbled around for a flash-bang, calling out to Austerley to try to make towards my voice. He answered in pain and panic but was sensible. So I searched the immediate area and found a flash-bang, closing my eyes and pulling the pin. Tossing it I cried out ‘fire in the hole.’
“Austerley, to my knowledge, has never been a military man. Everything about him told me so, but I still expected that he would understand my call. But he didn’t. The flash-bang went off and there were shrieks from whatever was out there and also from Austerley. He became wild, shouting out all sorts of things in languages I didn’t understand. I could just about see him at the edge of my goggles’ range. He was screaming something about a place called Rayleigh-a, he had his arms thrashing, but was entangled by some tentacles.
“I could have left him. No, I should have left him, and the world would probably be a better and safer place, but I’m a professional and he was my client. So I ran forward but slammed into something which then sprayed a liquid over my face. As it bounced back off me, I saw a half digested face and was taken aback, for I knew the face.
“When we had been in his office, Austerley had talked about the two men whom he was following. One was Carter, but the other was Harley Warren, the man who had been the driving force and also the member of the party to not return. He perished down the same hole more than an hundred years before. Yet, tell me Officer, how is it that I saw half of his face, six inches away, down that cursed hole? Yes, I see you think I’m crazy, lost the plot. But I’m a pro, I hold my nerve in these things, and I know a face. I don’t know how, and strike me down if I’m wrong, but that was the long deceased Harley Warren.”
Battling Blind
“My pack was distributed all over the floor, and as I scrabbled in the dark, I managed to pick up various items. Finding a pistol and a spare magazine, I was able to fire off rounds for about fifteen seconds which kept whatever was out there from me. Warren’s face was imprinted on my mind, but the infra-red goggles meant I had some idea where the attacks were coming from. At this time they were tentacles that whipped towards me from the dark, and I rolled and fired with moderate success.
“Then I was caught behind the head which pitched me forward but also knocked my goggles from my face. I heard them hit the floor in a despairing crunch and was completely blind. Fortunately, I was able to find a knife on the floor and began wildly slashing all around me. Austerley’s screams could still be heard, bizarre chants, and wails interspersing full-on shrieks.
“The next period of time was a mad slash and hack for survival. Several times I was caught on my torso by a whipping action, I assume a tentacle, and was hurtled across the open space. Thankfully, I never collided with the wall. Thoughts of Austerley were gone as I couldn’t locate him, and I was wondering how I would get out of this hell-hole. Suffice to say, I was operating purely on instinct at this time until I was hit by something massive.
“I was tense when it hit me from scouring the dark for the next attack but I wasn’t expecting to be gorged on my back. I don’t know what it was, but it felt like an artic, sorry you’re American, a juggernaut smashed into my back. Sailing through the air, I thought I was a goner. My right ankle collided with the wall first, and I reckon I pivoted it slightly so that my elbow connected hardest with the wall. The elbow was smashed, as you can see here, and my ankle felt like it had been broken too. I had good quality boots on which probably saved my ankle to a degree.
“Normally, I would react by getting clear in any direction, but I now knew the wall was near me and it was my only escape route. With my right hand, I searched the floor around me and found a flash-bang. The pin wasn’t easy to pull, but a combination of my knees and right hand extracted it, and I quickly tossed the device into the dark, shutting my eyes.
“Howls, wild howls in voices I have never heard before, followed its detonation. I’ve been in many bad situations and seen some horrors, but I have never felt like I did then, yet it was only an audible terror. Getting to my feet, I tested my ankle which screamed at me. Dropping down again, I felt for my laces, pulling them clear down to the ankle before wrapping them tightly around it. Standing again, it was still painful, but usable.
“I leant against the wall and began to half-run, half-stagger along it, hoping to avoid the creatures, praying they wouldn’t recover from the blinding light of the flash-bang before I was able to put some distance between us. But there was something on the floor, I don’t know what, which I tripped over. I was able to break my fall with my right arm and a half-roll. Reaching down with my good hand to stand again, I happened upon a small device. A quick feel alerted me to the fact it was the activation device for the beacons I had dropped.
“There were scraping sounds in the dark and howls and grunts, but I ignored them and pressed the beacons into life. Surprised to see only some eighty percent of the beacons ahead, I glanced back to find the rest behind me. In their light, I could see Austerley being held by a creature of some sort. It seemed bulky, even in the poor light and possibly had others congregated around it. Austerley was in pain but was making no sound. His eyes were wide open and showed such a profound horror, there was no need for a cry to express it.
“I should have left him. They seemed more interested in him anyway. Nothing was chasing me at that point, as far as I could tell. I could have snuck away, just left the insane fool to a well-deserved fate. But I’m a professional, like yourself Officer. I might not have a badge, but there’s an internal code.
“The contents of my pack had been scattered, but in the poor light I recognised the shape of my grenades. There was also the shape of my gun close by as well, hopefully with a clip that wasn’t empty. I’d say there was a plan forming, but really, it was a gung-ho moment. Three grenades. One after another. In a direction that was away from the wall and would cause most damage I hoped to the creatures holding Austerley. I turned my head from each blast, shielding my eyes.
“Following the last explosion, I ran towards where Austerley had been and found him lying on his back. His eyes were wide open, the whites reflecting the beacon’s light, but there was no motion in them. I slapped him hard and he responded. Grabbing his hair, I pulled him up and told him to run. But he shrieked in a language I didn’t understand, so I pointed him in the right direction and booted him in the arse. What? Yes, ass as you say. It was then I threw up. Man, the stink. I realised I was treading on the insides of creatures and was thankful for the poor light. But we couldn’t wait, so I drove myself after Austerley.
“A good job that I did, for I heard other creatures stirring and coming after us. Whenever I saw shadows behind us, I fired into the dark. As we reached the last beacon, I dove to the ground seeking the twine. My fingers found the blessed cord and shouting at Austerley to follow, I started along the string’s path. But the stupid fool didn’t follow. He was wild and hysterical. I hadn’t got this far to now leave him, so in the little light the beacons gave at this distance, I managed to run round Austerley catching him in a loop of twine and headed up the string’s path again, pulling the crazed professor behind me.”
Something’s Coming up the Stairs
“I think I had a strength heightened by the terror. It’s the only way I can imagine that we covered the ground at such a good pace. As we were heading away from the beacons, the blackness began to engulf again, and I was running
in total darkness. Behind me, I heard the gibbering of Austerley between his deep breaths. But farther back there were other sounds. Unholy voices, shrieks, howls, and even laughs, if I was to guess at them. And a thumping. Like hundreds of feet pelting after us. There was no rhythm to it, nothing to which my imagination could grab and produce a picture in my mind. Maybe I should have been thankful but, in honesty, it chilled me more than anything else I have ever fled from.
“I believe Austerley knew what it was, because from the moment it started, he was easier to pull along, in fact, I was only steering him. He said so many words at the time, many of them in that strange language, but he did say that word again. Said it a lot. Shoggoth. So maybe it was that. It’s easier to put a name to it, as it makes me less fearful, but in that dark, I knew no names. Just the sense of an approaching terror, a devilish chaser, a Satan on our backs. And we ran, beaten bodies, broken ankles and lacerations a-plenty hindering us for sure, but Officer we ran!
“I knew it was a risk. Somewhere in the back of my mind, something said, Kirkgordon, my son, don’t forget the stairs. But the terror was such that I was just running, and I ran smack into the very stairs that were meant to carry us to safety. It was my shoulder that hit, and I tumbled to the floor. Austerley tripped over my legs and I think he landed on the bottom steps, for he started to try to climb up them.
“The pounding noise of supposed feet got closer and closer and pumped even more adrenalin into my system. Desperately, I fumbled around to locate the stairs, trying to use Austerley’s voice as a guide. My heart almost stopped, for it took me a good fifteen seconds to locate them. I eagerly took to my flight and covered some four steps before I tumbled over Austerley who must have fallen trying to negotiate the stairs in the darkness.
“And then it hit. I felt the stairs shudder and something wet splatted across my legs. It was then that I was cut across my thigh by something sharp which drove me onward. Calling to Austerley to follow, I made a start. But I heard nothing human follow me. I called him by name again. No reply. But I heard something trying to squeeze itself into a narrow space. There was a grating of skin on stone, and a noise that sounded like pain from a forced effort. Not that the noise had anything human about it.
“Bending back down the steps, my hands found Austerley. He wasn’t moving and I had no idea of he was alive or dead. There was no time to check, with our pursuer so close, so I grabbed him by the collar and prepared to drag him. That was when I felt the breath of whatever had pummelled into the stairs. Like acidic snotty mist, its breath blew across my face, and I can imagine that was inches from me, squeezing its way up the stairs.
“I didn’t think. No yells or cries of terror were uttered. In my core I was numb, frozen in feeling. Thank the Lord that my trained reactions took over and my hands seized Austerley’s collar, and I dragged him with all of my might. I didn’t stop, just pulling and pulling, energy sapping from me but terror driving me on. Never before have I praised the dawn such as I did then.
“Dropping Austerley beside the entrance to the grave, I limped my way over to the car and popped the boot, sorry trunk, although boot is proper English, you know. Yeah, I popped the boot and grabbed all the weaponry I had left. It wasn’t an enormous amount; a couple of grenades, some magazines, flash-bangs and a few explosives. Carrying them back to the entrance I began tossing them in.
“Austerley opened his eyes beside me, and he began to get agitated. He asked what the hell I was doing. ‘Ending it,’ I told him, ‘bloody ending it.’ Do you know what the stupid arse then says? Just put the lid on. ‘The lid?’ I says to him. ‘The lid? There’s a thing coming up the stairs that tops the tentacled horrors that nearly sliced us apart, and you just want to put a lid on it? Just why?’ I asked him, ‘just flipping why?’ Now wait for this, Officer, he tells me he wants to go back down, another time to study these things. Can you imagine what I was thinking? The man wants locking up. So I said to him, ‘Indiana Jones, that’s what you are, a sick Indy-clone. But it’s not flaming antiques you’re hunting. It’s the damned, the unholy, Satan’s own!’
“I told him, that as far as I was concerned, stuff like this should not be messed with. It was the stuff the good book told you to steer clear of, the evil you shouldn’t embrace. Any passing acquaintance with a church would have shown him that. And I said to him, ‘Indy, people like you need protecting from yourself before you dump us all in your own filthy nightmares.’
“A Churchy telling me what to do. That’s what his response was, and he tried to grab some of the gear and throw it clear. But I’d had enough. Also, who knew how long we had before that thing squeezed up the stairs? So I dropped him with my nerve grip, shut the stupid fool up. I tossed the rest of the weaponry into the hole, leaving myself one explosive to throw in and ignite the inferno. After toying briefly with tossing Austerley in as well, I dragged him clear and blew the explosives. When the dust had settled, the stairs had collapsed and there was no way down anymore. I drew the stone back across. Despite being exhausted and losing blood, I thought the stone important to cover any traces. This stuff doesn’t want looked into, Officer. Promise me that, if nothing else, promise me that.”
Epilogue
“And that is about that, Officer. I went to drive the car, but I didn’t have any keys, lost them down below, I think. Hot wiring it came to mind, but to be truthful, it’s not a skill I have in abundance. Austerley was in a bad way, as was I, both losing blood, and I could feel my overall capacity reducing, both mentally and physically. Listening intently, I located the nearest road and dragged the lunatic and myself over to it. It was less than a kilometre, I reckon, as I took the direct route.
“By the time we were found, I think I was delirious and Austerley, well he was delirious too but that may have been difficult to deduce if you had known him before. Ranting is a speciality of his, especially in other languages. And I do mean other! So that’s it, Officer. And to be honest, I no longer care what anyone thinks or what happens because I damn well capped it, and it ain’t coming out that hole. So do the decent thing and send me home and that space cadet to the asylum he deserves.”
The officer crunched up his plastic cup and picked up his notebook before leaving the room. Outside, he took a right into the small viewing room and looked at the smartly dressed man in a grey overcoat, polished black shoes, and bowler hat.
“Crazy story, but he tells it like he believes it,” said the officer.
“Yes, he most certainly does,” agreed the bowler-hatted man. “Well, I do thank you for letting me watch. On behalf of Her Majesty’s government, I am glad that we have come to an agreement on how to proceed. Mr Kirkgordon needs some rest and recuperation, and letting him seek it at home is a most excellent accommodation. As for Mr. Austerley, the asylum at Arkham should suffice. A man like that certainly needs to be observed for all our good.”
“Nice working with you,” complimented the police officer shaking the man’s hand. “Take good care mister…mister…what did you say your name was again?”
“Farthington, Mr Farthington at your service.”
V
Austerley & Kirkgordon Origins 2
Cally
Prologue
The wet hair caught his eyes first. He traced a drop of water from the top of her forehead as it slid down the side of her face. Despite gradually slowing, it had enough momentum to fall down her cheek and then gently splash onto the top of her bare shoulder. There it formed a thin icy streak. His eyes continued to her pale white arm loosely positioned across her chest, before drawing breath at her exposed belly and the white towel wrapped around her waist and legs.
“You could’ve dressed.”
“It’s not like you hate the view.”
The woman turned her back and grabbed the towel, pulling it loose. After swinging it over her shoulder, she strolled down the hallway, hips jigging from side to side in time with her long, black hair.
His eyes lingered on her buttocks until she tur
ned the corner into her room. The shopping bag in his hands, somehow still there, was cutting into his hands and snapped his attention back to the cold night outside and his need to go indoors.
Dammit, Cally, you pretend you’re teasing, but we both know where you’d like to be—and we both know I can’t go there!
Entering the kitchen, Kirkgordon removed the groceries and set them down on the kitchen table. Flour, eggs, cereal, milk and that cheese that Austerley likes (whatever foreign muck it was). Not to mention bread, enough to feed an army.
You’d think we could get a gofer to fetch this stuff.
It had been two months now since they had left the island, and the routine was well established. Austerley, now a cripple due to the loss of his foot, was looked after alternately, a fortnight at a time, by Calandra and himself. The eccentric, former professor of Occultic Affairs had constant nightmares and flashbacks which were proving to be quite a handful. Still, at least he got two weeks with his estranged family away from Austerley.
And the time had been good. Well, kind of good. He had seen his children. He had played with them. But he had also screamed in the night, battling his own demons, his own recollections of that place. No child should see or hear their father going through something like that. Alana, his wife, was more understanding but there was still a rift between them. Struggling to cope with his troubles, she went from being engaged to wanting to walk away.