Spectre's Rest

by Nick Moseley

  ‘And how’s that strategy working out?’ Oscar asked, deadpan.

  ‘I’m playing the long game,’ said Trev.

  Oscar chuckled. ‘It’s going to be dark soon. You might not get the chance to see your “long game” through.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Trev admitted. He nodded across the room, to where Montano, Desai and Barton were involved in a heated discussion. ‘Shall we go and see what that’s all about?’

  ‘All right,’ said the cat, ‘but if you’re not dead in the morning we’re coming back to this conversation.’

  Trev grunted in response and they crossed the room to where the three Custodians stood arguing. They were trying to keep their voices down, with varying degrees of success.

  ‘–better to save some than none,’ Montano was saying. ‘If we could get the trucks open using a vapour weapon and put the prisoners inside, they’d be safe from the shadows for the time being.’

  ‘Wouldn’t work,’ Barton replied. ‘The locks on the prisoner compartments are electronic. If we cut the rear doors open the security system will register the break-in and lock them down.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing we can do except leave,’ Montano said.

  ‘An evacuation is one thing,’ Barton said, ‘but just abandoning the facility isn’t an option.’

  ‘Digging in overnight won’t achieve anything,’ Montano shot back. ‘There’s no way of protecting those prisoners. Whether we’re here or not, they aren’t going to survive the night. I don’t see the point in us dying with them.’

  I can’t argue with that, Trev thought as he joined the group. ‘What’s the plan, then?’ he asked them.

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to decide,’ said Desai, who appeared to have adopted the role of mediator. ‘Either we stay and do our best to fight off the shadows, or we get out while we can and leave the prisoners behind.’

  ‘Option “B” for me,’ said Trev. ‘I’m not keen on just leaving the prisoners to the shadows, but if it’s them or us…’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Montano. ‘And let’s face it, the inmates left here are the worst of the worst. Nobody’s going to miss them, and they won’t end up being a problem for the new prison either.’

  Trev raised an eyebrow. It was remarkable how quickly Montano had switched from her previous stick-to-the-rules-even-if-they’re-stupid-rules persona to this new “bollocks to it” mode. Trev had long since decided that he liked the latter version a lot more.

  Barton scowled. ‘We walk out and none of us will work for the Custodians again,’ he said. ‘The powers that be won’t stand for it.’

  ‘So? Would you rather be unemployed or dead?’ said Montano.

  ‘Neither, preferably,’ Barton said, though Trev’s salesman’s instincts told him the Custodian was wavering.

  ‘Same offer as before,’ Montano said, turning the screw. ‘I’ll take full responsibility. Come on, Ralph. Let’s save those lives we can save.’

  Barton made a show of thinking about it, raising his eyes to the ceiling and pursing his lips. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘Call the gatehouse and get them ready to let us out. Have we got enough vehicles in the staff car park to carry everyone?’

  ‘I should think so,’ said Montano. She spoke into her radio. ‘Grace to the gatehouse.’

  ‘There’ll be room in the back of our van if need be,’ Desai said to Barton. ‘Wouldn’t be comfortable, though.’

  ‘I’ll let you know,’ Barton said.

  ‘Grace to the gatehouse,’ Montano said again. ‘For God’s sake, what are they doing in there?’

  Desai and Trev exchanged a look. ‘You don’t think…’ said Desai.

  ‘We’d better go and check,’ Trev said.

  Montano nodded. ‘Come on.’

  They hurried to the front doors and looked across the huge lawn towards the gatehouse. Despite the daylight rapidly failing, the windows of both turrets were dark.

  ‘Grace to the gatehouse,’ said Montano into her radio a final time. There was no reply.

  ‘Think they’ve done a runner?’ Trev asked.

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Montano.

  ‘Then where are they?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know!’

  ‘Rhetorical question.’

  ‘Have you got a key to the gatehouse, Grace?’ Barton said, interrupting the bickering before it really got going.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Right, I’ll send a couple of my team to see what’s happened up there and get the gates open. In the meantime, let’s start getting people to the cars. Staff who aren’t on shift can go first.’

  ‘OK,’ said Montano, still staring at the dark gatehouse. She snapped out of it and produced a large bunch of keys from her pocket. ‘Here. The gatehouse keys are the ones with the red labels.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Barton got on his own radio and summoned Stewart and one of the other Custodians, a man called Matt, to whom Trev hadn’t been introduced. He was stocky with red hair in a very short crew cut. He looked like he spent most of his spare time in the gym; Trev reckoned that he was hoping a buff body would compensate for his strikingly ugly face, which resembled a startled ferret’s.

  Barton gave them a very quick briefing. ‘Whatever’s happened to the gatehouse staff,’ he concluded, ‘the important thing is to get those gates open. Call for backup if you need it.’

  The two men set off towards the gatehouse at a jog, cutting across the grass. Their footprints showed up as dark splotches against the frost, which was thickening as the temperature dropped. The sun had fallen below the level of the outer wall, leaving a fading red glow against the sky. Trev, Desai and Barton stood in silence for a while until Montano, who’d left them briefly to coordinate the transport, returned.

  ‘We’ve got enough cars if Mishti and Trev can take someone in the back of their van,’ she said.

  ‘No problem,’ said Trev. ‘We’re all right to take a passenger, right Mishti?’ Desai didn’t answer. She was watching the two Custodians, who were halfway to the gatehouse. ‘Earth to Mishti Desai.’

  ‘What the hell is that?’ Desai said, and the tone of her voice made everybody turn to look.

  Along the edges of the lawn to the left and right, the grass was darkening. Blackness was seeping up from the soil, creating a border that quickly spread inwards. Tendrils of it pushed through the frost like sprouting plants in a time-lapse video recording.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Trev. ‘You can’t be serious. The sun’s not even down yet!’

  Barton grabbed his radio and called Stewart and Matt. ‘Get back here now before you’re cut off!’

  Trev saw the two Custodians stop and turn around. They became aware of the darkness closing in around them and stood in shock for a second or two before breaking into a run.

  Trev and the others took a step backwards as the darkness began to leak onto the surface of the road as well. ‘How is this happening?’ Trev said. He unholstered The Twins and tried to force himself to stand his ground. The darkness wasn’t moving onto the tarmac as quickly as it was the grass, but it was still close enough to unnerve him. ‘Are there conduits under the lawn?’

  ‘No idea,’ said Oscar. ‘Maybe it’s just become powerful enough that it doesn’t need the conduits any more. If that’s the case, we might well be royally screwed.’

  ‘They aren’t going to make it,’ Desai said.

  At the far end of the lawn the dark energy encroaching from either side had met in the middle and was flowing towards the prison. Its speed was increasing, and it was gaining on the running Custodians, who were being funnelled down a narrowing “V” of white grass. Desai’s assessment of their chances appeared to be worryingly accurate. The spreading blackness was going to be covering the whole lawn before the two men could get back.

  ‘Think we can slow it down?’ Trev asked, holding up The Twins.

  Desai drew her own vapour weapon, the narrow green blade erupting from the hilt. ‘I don’t know, but we ought to try!
’

  Trev activated his swords and followed her lead as she ran to the edge of the grass and swiped at the tendrils of darkness at her feet. They recoiled from the blade, writhing in agitation. Trev moved in so that he was back-to-back with Desai and they worked to keep the gap from closing. The seething energy shifted in continuous waves, avoiding the glowing blades but always trying to flow back elsewhere.

  Barton and Montano, having used their radios to call for backup, joined the effort. Montano had a short-sword of some kind with a shimmering white blade, while Barton’s weapon was a one-handed battleaxe. Its crescent-shaped blade glowed a deep violet.

  Even with four of them hacking away, they could barely hold the darkness in check. It moved like a living thing, blurry tendrils of it lashing out to try and strike Trev and his comrades on their feet or lower legs. The battle quickly became less about forcing the darkness back and more about just holding their ground. Trev knew that they had seconds at best before they’d be forced to withdraw; for all their efforts the black energy was forcing them back.

  Shouts went up from the direction of the main doors as backup arrived. Stewart and Matt were only yards away, and Trev believed, just for a moment, that they’d done enough to save the two men. They were only twenty yards away when the leading edge of the pursuing darkness caught Matt’s heel. Unable to keep his balance with one numb foot, he went sprawling forwards onto the frosty grass. Stewart might still have saved himself if he’d abandoned his comrade, but he checked his run and grabbed the back of Matt’s body armour in an attempt to get him back on his feet.

  It was too late. The malign energy had already flowed over the fallen Custodian’s legs. He clutched at Stewart’s arms, his face white with shock. Stewart tried to drag him the rest of the way, but by then the darkness had reached him too.

  ‘No!’ shouted Barton. He slashed at the black tendrils in a frenzy, as if he could fight his way to his stricken team-mates.

  ‘Barton!’ Trev called. Not only was the Custodians’ leader making no progress, he was in danger of being cut off himself. ‘Barton! They’re gone!’

  They had a last glimpse of Stewart’s despairing face as he fell forwards and disappeared. Barton let out a bellow of rage and frustration and Trev thought that he might battle on. Fortunately he seemed to realise that the situation was hopeless and joined the retreat back to the road. Montano waved back the guards who’d come to help, and they were quick to disappear inside again.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Barton ran a hand over his head. ‘You told me it was walking shadows we had to worry about, not… that!’

  ‘We need to get back inside,’ Desai said. The darkness was still spreading, albeit more slowly now.

  Montano had her radio to her ear and it was chattering with panicky voices. ‘It came up in the car park, too,’ she told Barton, ‘out of the grass verges. They managed to get almost everyone back, but it got Smitty.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Barton again, accurately reflecting Trev’s own thoughts on the matter.

  They reached the front steps of the prison and stood next to the main doors, watching the advance of the darkness. If it began to flow into the building then they were as good as dead, but it didn’t. It stopped about halfway across the road in front of the prison.

  ‘It can’t cross the tarmac as easily as the grass, maybe,’ said Oscar.

  ‘Or it’s hemming us in, keeping us here,’ said Montano.

  Barton stared at her. ‘Are you saying that this stuff can… can think?’ he asked her. ‘It’s strategising against us?’

  ‘I’ve no bloody idea,’ she said, ‘but nothing about what’s happening here seems random, does it?’ She sounded lifeless and defeated, the flare of enthusiasm she’d had while organising their escape gone. Barton was in a state of shock, muttering to himself. Even the unflappable Desai seemed at a loss.

  The deaths of Stewart and Matt had stunned Trev as well, but he knew that they couldn’t stand on the steps all night. I’m the last person who should be the voice of reason, he thought, but if nobody else is going to do it…

  ‘We should get back to the library,’ he said gently. ‘If we’re going to be stuck here tonight, we ought to have a plan.’

  ‘A plan?’ said Montano, not turning to face him. ‘Against that?’

  ‘Unless you’d rather just throw yourself into it and end it all, I’m with Trev,’ said Oscar. ‘There are a lot of very scared people in there, Grace, and they’re going to be looking to you and Barton for some leadership. If we’re going to die, let’s at least do it with a bit of class.’

  ‘Not the best pep-talk I’ve ever heard, but it’ll have to do,’ said Desai. ‘Ralph?’

  Barton visibly shook himself, and some of his brusque manner returned. ‘Yes. You’re right. We need to plan. But we also need to know more about the thing we’re up against, and there’s one man in there who can tell us about it.’

  Thirty-Six

  The library doors were open and the guards not on duty were milling about, some talking, some staring into space and one or two crying. Barton strode past them, heading for the corner where Bookbinder sat. There was an area of clear space around him; the guards were unwilling to go near the man who’d robbed them of their means of escape.

  The old doctor was still staring at the floor, oblivious to his surroundings. Barton got his attention by grabbing the front of his clothes, dragging him out of his chair and slamming him against the wall. Bookbinder, his hands still bound and unable to defend himself, let out a shocked cry of pain.

  ‘Right, you bastard,’ Barton snarled, ‘I just had to watch two of my team die out there and I want to know why.’

  Bookbinder’s mouth moved but he didn’t say anything. His bleary eyes struggled to focus on the man assaulting him.

  ‘Why did you put the trucks out of action?’ Barton demanded. ‘Why have you trapped us here? TELL ME!’

  He punctuated the last two words by bouncing Bookbinder off the wall. The room had gone silent. Everyone was watching. Trev glanced at Montano, wondering if she’d put a stop to it, but she was standing with her arms folded and her face grim.

  ‘We can’t leave,’ Bookbinder gasped out.

  ‘Why. The hell. Not?’ Barton demanded, pinning him against the wall and shouting right into his face.

  ‘Because,’ Bookbinder stammered, ‘if we leave, then it leaves too.’

  ‘What?’ said Barton, genuine puzzlement blunting his anger.

  ‘I think I get it,’ said Oscar. He was up on the big table. ‘We’re this thing’s prey, right? As long as we stay here, it’ll stay here too. But it’s too powerful to be restrained by the conduits anymore, so if we leave, it’ll go looking for new prey. And there’s a town just down the road.’

  Bookbinder was nodding. ‘The needs of the many,’ he said, echoing his earlier conversation with Trev.

  ‘Let him go, Ralph,’ said Desai, who’d seen enough.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t he just tell us this in the first place?’ Barton growled, but he let Bookbinder go as he’d been asked. The doctor slid down the wall and onto the floor. A bloodstain on the brickwork showed where he’d banged his head when Barton had bounced him. Desai grabbed a first aid kit and set about bandaging the cut.

  ‘I can’t talk about it,’ Bookbinder said, and started to cry. Great heaving sobs wracked his small frame. ‘I… I can’t.’

  Barton turned away in disgust. Trev, for all his anger towards Bookbinder for leaving them trapped, felt a pang of pity for the old man. He was clearly being forced to do those things against his will, but by whom? Trev’s eye wandered around the library. Was it someone in the room with them?

  ‘We need to organise,’ Montano said. She looked up at the lights, which were still on. ‘We don’t know when the shadows are going to turn up.’

  Barton nodded. He was leaning on the table, his knuckles white against the wood. ‘Thoughts?’

  ‘I think we need to put the bulk of our resources in
the cell block,’ Montano said. ‘It’s doubtful we can save the prisoners but every one that dies becomes another shadow, so we have to try and protect them if we can.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Barton said. ‘I’ll call the Custodians and see whether they can get anyone else out here. Though even if they can, I’ve no clue how they’d actually get us out.’

  ‘We’ll just have to survive the night, then,’ said Montano. ‘Let’s work out how we’re going to allocate our teams.’

  It was decided that the majority of the available personnel would be stationed in Block A, where it was reckoned the shadows would show themselves first. The remaining guards – those who’d been on duty during the day – would hold the library and could be despatched as reinforcements if need be. Trev listened with some apprehension to the plans taking shape. He knew that they were going to want both him and Desai in the cell block, as they, along with Suzanne, were the only people with experience of fighting the shadows. He felt tired, cold and hungry. Not the ideal state in which to be heading into battle.

  The plans were finalised in haste and it was no surprise that Trev found himself heading to Block A with Desai, Barton and a group of guards who looked every bit as tired, cold and hungry as he felt. The conversation was minimal, though the guards aimed a few sidelong glances in Trev’s direction; he guessed that he was still something of an unknown quantity for them and they were wondering how far they could trust him. The feeling’s mutual, people, Trev thought. I wouldn’t trust anyone who works for Seth Lysander, so we’re about even.

  They were met at the cell block door by Mac. The guard was still clutching his outsize shotgun, heedless of the fact that it would be completely useless against the shadows. It’s his pump-action comfort blanket, Trev decided.

  As they entered, Mac took Trev’s elbow and pulled him to one side. ‘Can I have a word?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure,’ said Trev, warily.

  ‘You two,’ Mac nodded in Desai’s direction, ‘have actually had a scrap with these shadow things, right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Trev.

  ‘OK. Can you just do a quick briefing for the team then? Let them know what to expect, the best tactics to use, you know?’