Spectre's Rest

by Nick Moseley

  ‘There’s a big difference between unfriendly and homicidal,’ Trev pointed out. ‘What makes you think this thing wants to kill us?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain.’ Oscar fixed Trev with his mismatched gaze. ‘Normally when I sense something like this, a spirit or whatever, it’s a mash of conflicting sensations. Like that genius loci out at Nimley, remember?’

  Trev nodded. He remembered all too well. A genius loci was a spirit of place. They accumulated in locations with a high concentration of psychic energy, forming gradually over a long period of time. Trev and Oscar had run into one in a little village called Nimley, and had barely survived the encounter. ‘How’s this place different?’

  ‘It’s all bad vibes,’ said Oscar. ‘There’s no light and shade. Whatever’s lurking here, it’s purely malevolent. That’s very rare, and very dangerous.’

  ‘But what is it?’ Trev asked. ‘A genius loci?’

  ‘No, can’t be,’ said Oscar. ‘This place hasn’t been here anything like long enough for one to form, even if the conditions were right for it.’

  ‘What if it was already here when they started building the prison?’ Trev said.

  ‘Trust me, they’d have noticed,’ Oscar replied. ‘You can’t construct a huge building in the middle of a genius loci’s territory without getting a reaction.’

  ‘So what is it?’ Trev asked.

  ‘Buggered if I know,’ said Oscar. ‘All I can tell you is that it’s a bad idea to stay here. We need to get everyone out.’

  ‘Easier said than done,’ said Trev. ‘Mishti and I can have a word with Grace, but we’ll need to be specific about the threat. I can’t just tell her “a passing cat told me we were in danger”.’

  ‘Well, has anyone actually seen anything?’ said Oscar. ‘Anything that might give us a clue what we’re up against?’

  Trev nodded. ‘Yeah, I’ve seen some stuff.’

  He explained to Oscar about the wolf-thing, the shadow-figure and the creeping darkness he’d seen. The cat’s eyes widened as he listened.

  ‘So, does any of that give you a clue?’ said Trev when he’d finished.

  ‘No, but none of it sounds good,’ Oscar said. ‘We might be dealing with multiple entities, or one that can spread itself about a bit. Either way, it doesn’t change my original recommendation to get everyone out of here.’

  ‘Yeah, and it doesn’t change the fact that Grace thinks I’m either lying or insane,’ Trev replied. ‘How can we convince her?’

  ‘That’s your department. I’m just a cat.’

  ‘A talking cat, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of the supernatural.’

  ‘Grace won’t listen to me, if that’s what you’re buttering me up for.’ Oscar hopped down off the bed and stretched. ‘I can tell you from past experience that people don’t like taking advice from a cat. And from what I’ve heard, it’s going to take a lot more than some vague pronouncement of doom to shift Grace Montano.’

  ‘What do you suggest then?’

  ‘Buggered if I know.’

  ‘Stop saying that.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you were expecting from me. I’ve given you my assessment of the situation, it’s up to you to act on it.’ Oscar stared up at Trev with an annoying feline smile.

  ‘Right, so in summary,’ Trev said, ‘you’ve told me that Deacon isn’t going to get us out, which I knew already, and that there’s some evil presence here that wishes us harm. Which I also knew already. You’ve been a great help.’

  ‘Anytime,’ said Oscar, still smiling. ‘I’m glad I was able to set your mind at rest. Although from what I’ve seen, your mind is always at rest.’

  ‘This has been very useful,’ said Trev. ‘I’m off to find Mishti and see if I can get a sensible take on all this.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. I like Mishti.’

  Trev pulled a face and started towards the door. As he did so the lights overhead flickered and died. Somewhere deep in the building an alarm brayed for a second before cutting out, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

  ‘Oh shit,’ said Trev.

  ‘That’ll be your dramatic event, then,’ said Oscar.

  Twenty-Two

  Trev fed some energy into his hand, giving himself a dim glow by which to see. Oscar was standing by the door, head cocked, listening.

  ‘Is this what happened when Corbyn died?’ he asked.

  ‘Pretty much,’ said Trev. He found himself whispering. ‘Power went out and it took them a while to get it back on. By the time they managed it, Corbyn was dead in his cell and one of the guards, Jerry Phelps, had disappeared.’

  ‘He’s the prime suspect?’

  ‘Yeah. Though Grace doesn’t seem convinced it’s him.’

  ‘Then why’s he hiding?’

  ‘Good question. Latent agoraphobia?’

  Oscar considered this. ‘I’m not sold on that.’

  ‘I think it’s only Grace who thinks Phelps is innocent,’ said Trev. ‘He must have been a hide-and-seek champion as a kid, though. They’ve been pulling this place to bits looking for him but he hasn’t turned up.’

  Oscar nodded but didn’t reply. He moved his head from side to side, whiskers twitching. Trev had seen him do this before, and knew it meant that the cat was stretching out with what he called his “spooky senses”.

  ‘Is it safe out there?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s about as safe out there as it is in here,’ said Oscar. ‘I don’t think you can call anywhere in this prison “safe” per se.’

  ‘But are we in any direct danger right now?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I can sense that presence everywhere, but it seems to be concentrating somewhere further into the building. We’ll probably be OK if we stay here.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Trev. ‘If the presence is concentrating itself then something nasty is about to happen. Maybe another death.’

  ‘Yeah, probably,’ said Oscar. ‘Is there anyone in this prison that you’re particularly attached to? If not, I think we’re best off keeping our noses out of it.’

  Trev blinked. ‘Do you really mean that?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Oscar. ‘Why, is that a problem?’

  ‘Is this the kind of mentality you get when you’re the only one of your species?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not the only one,’ said Oscar. ‘It’s just that us talking cats don’t really socialise with each other.’

  ‘I see,’ said Trev, filing away that intriguing comment for future discussion. ‘But anyway, you seriously think we should just hide?’

  Oscar nodded. ‘I don’t think we can fight this thing, Trev, so our best bet is to stay the hell away from it until we can get out of here.’

  Trev frowned. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d have agreed with Oscar’s sentiment wholeheartedly. In fact, he’d have been the one to say it first. But now it felt… wrong.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ he said. ‘I think I’m coming down with a conscience.’

  ‘Get away from me, that stuff’s contagious,’ Oscar said, jumping to the side. ‘What’s it telling you to do? Go and throw yourself between the scary shadows and their intended victim?’

  ‘I said I had a conscience, not a death wish.’

  ‘So your plan is?’

  ‘Just go and tell the people with guns and stuff what’s happening and let them deal with it.’

  ‘Right. It’s not much of a conscience then, is it?’

  Trev indicated the lack of weaponry at his waist. ‘They took The Twins off me. It’s their own fault I can’t help.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Oscar. ‘We’d better find Mishti first. They’re more likely to believe us if we present a united front.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to show yourself, actually,’ Trev replied. ‘This place is supposed to be on lockdown. Grace’ll freak out if she discovers you’ve broken in.’

  ‘There was no breaking involved,’ Oscar said, with exaggerated hurt. ‘I just strolled past the fat guy.’<
br />
  ‘I don’t think Grace is going to see it that way,’ Trev said. ‘We’ll go and find Mishti, but you’ll have to hide in the background when we talk to the prison staff.’

  ‘Ashamed of me, eh?’ said the cat. ‘Now I know how your girlfriends feel.’

  ‘Sore point,’ said Trev, thinking of Sarah. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  They left his room and made their way up the corridor towards the library. The same deadness to the air that Trev had noticed during the first power cut was back; Oscar evidently sensed it too, because he went very quiet.

  Trev concentrated the energy into his palm and cupped his fingers, focusing the light from his hand into a rudimentary torch beam. As before the darkness was thick and cloying, with no light filtering in through the windows. Rain pattered against the glass, the sound muffled by the strange atmosphere. Trev was already having second thoughts about following his newly-found conscience. Oscar’s suggestion to stay put and out of the firing line seemed more sensible with every step.

  They reached the library doors and went inside. The tall room was freezing cold and deserted. Trev called out for Desai but didn’t get a response.

  ‘Where the hell has she gone?’ Trev said. He shone his “torch” around the library and shivered. ‘Maybe she went to see Grace after I left? I think she said she was going to.’

  Oscar said nothing. Trev looked down at him and saw that his head was trembling and his whiskers were twitching furiously. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Something’s happening,’ the cat said. ‘Can’t you feel that?’

  ‘Feel what?’ said Trev. His eyes flitted around the room. The library, for all its size, was beginning to make him claustrophobic. The darkness pressed in on them, and he forced more energy into his hand to brighten the light.

  ‘The presence, what else?’ Oscar said. All the casual cockiness was gone from his voice. Trev didn’t think he’d ever heard the cat sound frightened before. It made him even more uneasy. ‘It’s difficult to pin it down. It’s almost like it’s a part of the building itself. I can sense it moving, the energy of it. Can’t you?’

  Trev almost replied that he couldn’t, then remembered the persistent creepy feeling he’d been experiencing since first setting foot in the prison. Over the days he’d grown able to tune it out for the most part; Oscar’s words, however, brought it rushing back, and he realised that he could feel it shifting, changing, stirring like a long-dormant volcano beginning to rumble and smoke.

  Bad Trev clenched in his chest, triggering what should have been a fight-or-flight response but was purely fight. Despite his lack of weapons he shifted into a combat-ready stance, eyes searching for invisible opponents.

  ‘All right, I’m feeling it,’ he said. He fought his body for control and wrestled it back, forcing himself to relax. ‘Bloody hell, I thought something was going to attack me there.’

  ‘Don’t bet against it,’ Oscar said. ‘This thing is outside my experience. My senses are telling me its attention is elsewhere, but I have no idea what it’s capable of. We need to find the people with weapons as soon as we can.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Trev.

  They left the library and continued up the corridor. Rain beat against the windows, much heavier now. There was no sign of any of the prison staff. Trev and Oscar might have had the building to themselves for all they could tell.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Oscar said.

  ‘There’s only a skeleton staff left,’ Trev said. ‘Grace must have given them assignments in case of a second power cut. Some of them will be trying to get the generator back on, the rest are probably guarding the prisoners.’

  Oscar led the way, following his whiskers. Trev trailed along behind, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other and doing his best not to think about what might be lurking in the dark. They reached the end of the staff quarters and found themselves at a junction in the corridor. A left turn would take them towards Block A and the main staircase to the upper floors, the route along which Trev had staggered on his first night at Spectre’s Rest. Straight on led into the centre section of the building and Blocks B and D.

  ‘Which way?’ Trev said. He didn’t need to ask, as the creepy sensation doubled in strength when he faced the corridor ahead, but he wanted Oscar’s confirmation.

  ‘It’s straight ahead,’ the cat replied.

  Trev nodded. ‘Block B. That’s where most of the prisoners are.’

  ‘So that’s where most of the guards should be,’ Oscar said.

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ said Trev.

  They joined the main corridor ahead. A few steps into it and they both came to a halt.

  ‘Tell me you’re seeing this,’ Trev squeaked.

  ‘I am, and I wish I wasn’t,’ said Oscar.

  A thick shadow crawled up the wall in the light from Trev’s hand.

  It wasn’t the humanoid shadow that had tried to grab him in the library, for which he was grateful. What he saw instead was a mass of strands of darkness, emerging from the wall at floor level and snaking up the brickwork before climbing into the ceiling.

  The shadow moved like a thick, viscous liquid but left no marks on the wall. The unpleasant, creepy feeling was now almost overwhelming. Trev’s chest tightened to the point where he found it difficult to breathe. His fists clenched. He couldn’t bring himself to move forwards or backwards. The darkness continued to flow, unperturbed by his panicked reaction to it.

  ‘It’s like someone got all the bad thoughts and malice in the world, mixed it with treacle, and sprayed it up the wall,’ said Oscar. His tone was casual, though Trev could hear how much effort he was having to put in to keep it that way.

  ‘What is it?’ Trev rasped out.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Oscar. ‘It’s familiar, somehow, but I can’t pin it down. And it’s powerful. It’s making my brain itch.’

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s anything we can do, not directly. Grace and her staff need to see this though. Let them know what they’re up against.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Trev.

  ‘Right, come on then.’

  ‘Slight problem,’ Trev said. ‘I think I’m too scared to move.’

  Oscar eyed him. ‘Don’t be daft. You’ve been up against scarier things than this, surely?’

  ‘Yes,’ Trev agreed. He summoned all his strength and took a trembling step forwards. ‘But this stuff is having a weird effect on me. It’s like one part of me wants to run and another part wants to fight, and between them I’m getting stuck.’

  He knew that the part of him that wanted to fight was Bad Trev. He hadn’t told Oscar about that before, and he wasn’t going to now. It was one thing to admit that you’d done something of a fairly ordinary level of stupid; it was quite another to admit that you’d done something stupid enough to kill you. The knot of negatively-charged energy was slowly growing and he couldn’t get rid of it. Sooner or later it would drive him insane, he’d start attacking people at random, and someone would have to put him down.

  Trev thought he’d probably dispose of himself before it came to that.

  ‘Look,’ said Oscar. His attention was back on the wall. The flow of shadows was slackening. Within a few seconds it had dwindled away to nothing, the last few strands vanishing into the ceiling and leaving a blank wall in their wake. Trev’s tensed muscles relaxed and he took in a shuddering breath.

  ‘I think it was going into the cell block,’ he gasped. ‘We ought to warn the guards.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Oscar. ‘Try and remember where it was coming out of the floor. We need to come back and check that out. It might tell us something.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Trev. He walked up the corridor, moving somewhat unsteadily and staying right in the centre so that he was as far away from both walls as he could be.

  He turned the corner at the end of the corridor and was blinded by the light of a powerful torch aimed at his face.

  ‘S
top,’ said a male voice from behind the torch. ‘Show me your hands.’

  Trev shut off his own “torch” and held his hands out to his sides, palms towards the speaker. ‘I’m Trev Irwin,’ he said. ‘I’m here with the Custodians. Check with Grace Montano.’

  ‘Nah, I know who you are,’ said the man. He lowered the light and Trev blinked away the spots in front of his eyes. ‘It’s Mac. What are you doing wandering about? Aren’t you supposed to be confined to the staff quarters?’

  ‘Technically,’ said Trev. ‘But if you think I’m staying down there on my own in the dark with a murderer prowling around the prison, you’re having a laugh.’

  Mac shrugged. Trev noted that the guard’s torch was mounted under the barrel of a huge pump-action shotgun that looked powerful enough to shoot satellites out of orbit. He was relieved that Mac wasn’t the “shoot first, ask questions later” type, or Trev would have been in the awkward position of trying to keep up his end of the conversation while missing his head.

  ‘You on patrol?’ he asked.

  ‘Nah,’ said Mac again. ‘I’m guarding the entrance to Block B. Got to stay by the door on pain of death. That’s why I didn’t come round to investigate when I saw your light around the corner.’ He turned and strolled back up the corridor, carrying his weapon in the “port arms” position. Trev wondered if Mac was ex-military.

  Trev followed him through the cage door to the entrance to Block B. Oscar had made himself scarce as Trev had requested, which was a surprise. Things must really be bad if Oscar’s willing to follow orders, Trev thought. The cat’s attitude to authority was usually one of cheerful insubordination. It was quite funny when it was being directed at someone else; less so when you were the target.

  ‘I’m going to have to radio in that you’re here,’ Mac said with an apologetic expression. ‘Orders.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Trev said. He was past caring what Grace Montano thought of him, though he regretted the hassle that his latest excursion was going to cause Desai.

  Mac lifted his radio to his mouth. He was about to speak when it crackled and spoke to him first.