by Nick Moseley
‘There’s someone else on the site,’ said an edgy voice. ‘Request backup.’
‘What’s your position?’ asked McKenzie.
The radio hissed again but nobody spoke.
‘Jones, what’s your position?’ said McKenzie.
Silence.
‘Jones was on the eastern side, watching the perimeter,’ said Barton.
‘Take Young and find him,’ said McKenzie.
Barton nodded. ‘Young? You’re with me.’
A scream split the night air. It came from Trev’s right, somewhere away past the earth-moving equipment. He flinched. It was an animal sound of pain and fear, and hearing it was deeply unsettling. It lasted for less than a second before being cut off.
‘Ah,’ said Barker. For the first time, his composure had slipped a little.
McKenzie rounded on him. ‘Who’s out there?’
‘I can’t say for sure,’ Barker replied, ‘but we should prepare ourselves.’
‘We?’ said Trev.
Sarah looked around at the sound of his voice. ‘Trev?’
He gave her a half-hearted wave. ‘Hi.’
The Custodians eyed each other. ‘Take Coady as well,’ said McKenzie to Barton. ‘Find Jones.’
‘There!’ said Strachan, pointing.
Heads turned. A figure was approaching out of the darkness. It was outlined with purple light.
‘Oh shit,’ said Trev.
‘Who is it?’ asked McKenzie.
Trev gulped. ‘Jack Smith.’
McKenzie cursed under her breath. Trev couldn’t blame her. Two of the Custodians’ most feared bogeymen in the same place at the same time was a disaster scenario.
‘Whatever happens, keep Barker covered,’ she said to Barton.
Smith stopped just inside the circle of light created by the leaning streetlamp. His lantern hung by his side, the purple glow pulsing within. He swung his gaze over the group of Custodians and their prisoners, a thin smile on his face. His eyes found Trev and the smile became a grin. Looks like we have a new number one on the “worst day of my life” leaderboard, Trev thought.
He felt a light touch of something slide across his thoughts. Having been exposed to Smith’s power before, Trev recognised it immediately and braced himself; however nothing untoward happened. It wasn’t an attack. He’s reading us, Trev realised. Trying to work out who’ll be trouble.
‘Well, this is a nice little gathering,’ said Smith.
‘Jack Smith, you’re under arrest,’ said McKenzie.
Smith barked out a laugh. ‘You’d scarcely believe the number of times I’ve been told that. And yet here I am. Free as a bird.’
‘I doubt he recognises your authority,’ said Barker. ‘Hello, Jack.’
‘Would you look at that!’ said Smith. ‘Here’s another poor sod who once tried to arrest me. Why don’t you tell her what happened?’
‘I’d rather not,’ said Barker. ‘I don’t like to upset people unnecessarily.’
Smith laughed again. ‘That’s where you and I differ, then.’
‘What’s going on?’ Oscar whispered.
Trev started, having forgotten that the kitten was there. ‘Smith’s here. We’re buggered.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Oscar. ‘If I’d known it’d be this dangerous, I wouldn’t have let you bring me.’
Trev took a moment away from contemplating his own death to direct a disbelieving look into his pocket.
McKenzie now had her gun on Smith. ‘Why are you here?’
‘You know why I’m here,’ Smith replied. ‘The Key. Give it to me.’
‘I’d counsel very strongly against that course of action,’ said Barker.
‘If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it,’ said McKenzie. A flicker of irritation crossed Barker’s face.
‘You’re not getting anything,’ Barton growled at Smith.
‘That so?’ Smith held up his lantern. The glow pulsed brighter. Barton gasped, falling to his knees. ‘Have yourself a moment to think about it.’
Barton slumped onto his side. An anguished moan escaped from between his gritted teeth. The other Custodians stared at him, not understanding what Smith was doing. Trev, of course, knew all too well. The sight of Smith’s leering face as he tortured Barton caused Bad Trev to stir. Without thinking, Trev walked forwards.
‘Hey, Smith,’ he called out.
Smith lowered his lantern. Barton rolled onto his back and lay there, panting.
‘Hello, boy.’ Smith winked at him. ‘I’m pleased you’re here, as it happens.’
‘Wish I could say the same.’ Trev pulled Tyrfing from its holster. ‘Remember what happened when we last met?’
‘I do,’ Smith replied. ‘Gave me something to think about, that did.’
‘Good,’ said Trev.
‘So I made sure to bring help this time, just in case you were here.’
Trev paused. ‘Help?’
Behind him Barton was being helped to his feet. He was unsteady but appeared to be all right. McKenzie stepped up beside Trev, her gun aimed at Smith. While he appreciated the show of support, he didn’t think that bullets were going to do much good against a bloke who was, to all intents and purposes, already dead.
‘Oh yes,’ said Smith. ‘You might’ve heard otherwise, but I do have some friends.’
Something stirred in the darkness behind him. Whatever it was, it was quite large. Fear rose inside Trev. What sort of “friends” would a man like Smith have?
‘I suggest we move to a more defensible position,’ said Barker.
‘You’ll stay where you are until you’re told otherwise,’ said McKenzie.
Smith dropped a hand to his side and made a small beckoning gesture. A shape separated itself from the night and padded into the light. Trev heard McKenzie take in a sharp breath; he’d have done the same, but his lungs had stopped working.
The thing was a huge black dog, as tall at the shoulder as Smith’s waist. Its blue-black fur stuck out from its body in spiky clumps and its head was disproportionately large. Wisps of black essence boiled off it like steam, and its drool hissed and crackled into the snow. Where its eyes should have been there was just an orange slit, illuminated against the dark with a dying-ember glow.
‘What the hell is that?’ squeaked Trev.
‘That,’ Oscar replied, his head poking out of Trev’s pocket, ‘is a barghest. Colloquially known as a hellhound. Demons use them as hunting dogs.’
‘The Key,’ said Smith. ‘Give it to me.’
The slit in the barghest’s face opened, revealing it to be a single burning eye the size of a saucer. The pupil slid across the humans in front of the beast, marking them. Below the eye the barghest’s jaw sagged open, revealing a jumble of long, black teeth. More spittle dripped into the snow, sizzling. A rumbling growl that Trev could feel in his bowels emanated from the creature’s throat.
‘I’ve no intention of negotiating with you, Smith,’ said McKenzie. ‘Call off the dog.’
‘Who’s negotiating?’ said Smith. ‘It was a demand, not an opening bid. The Key. Now. Or you die.’
‘He intends to kill us all whether you give him the Key or not,’ said Barker.
Smith turned his gaze on Barker. He didn’t refute the statement.
‘Be sensible, Jack,’ said Trev. ‘With or without Fido there, you’re badly outnumbered. And your little magic lamp doesn’t work on me.’
‘Outnumbered, am I?’ said Smith.
He made the beckoning gesture again. A second barghest joined the first. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth. Trev stopped counting after that. It was too terrifying.
‘Move back to the house,’ said Barker. He twisted the handle of his umbrella and it came off in his hand. He threw the rest of the umbrella aside.
‘Do it,’ said McKenzie. The Custodians didn’t need to be told a second time. As one, they began backing up.
‘Any weak spots on those things we should know about?’ Trev whispered to Osc
ar.
‘They’re from the demon realm,’ the kitten replied. ‘Physical weapons won’t do anything except annoy them. Vapour weapons will injure them but they’ll heal rapidly.’
McKenzie caught this bit of advice. ‘Vapour weapons,’ she snapped.
The Custodians hurriedly drew their vapour weapons. Smith watched with an amused expression. Trev felt his pulse pounding. The wall of glowing eyes in front of him made it difficult to think, but he was convinced Barker was right. Smith didn’t intend to let them go. He gritted his teeth and activated The Twins. Caladbolg flared into life, its blade a three-foot bolt of lightning that writhed on the weapon’s hilt as if it were trying to escape. Tyrfing’s blade was shorter and composed of black flames which shaded to red at their tips.
What’s this then, lad? said a cheerful male voice in Trev’s head. Caladbolg spoke in a hybrid Celtic accent that could’ve been Irish, Welsh or Scottish at any given moment. In trouble again, I see.
Barghests, replied Tyrfing. Its voice was female, and spoke in clipped Scandinavian tones. Foul beasts. Do not let them bite you. The wounds are difficult to heal.
‘Last chance to walk away, Smith,’ said Trev. Holding the vapour weapons allowed him to shunt his fear to one side. He was still aware of it, but it was compartmentalised, like a museum exhibit in a glass case.
‘I was told not to kill you,’ Smith said. He smiled. ‘But do you know what I think? I think if I bring them the Key, they’ll forgive me.’
There was a fizzing sound as Barker activated his vapour weapon. It was built into the umbrella handle and had a liquid green blade.
‘I’d step back if I were you, Mr. Irwin,’ Barker said.
Smith lifted his lantern and the glow inside it flared.
‘Kill them,’ he said. ‘Kill them all.’
Thirty
The barghests sprang forwards in a flurry of glowing eyes, bared fangs and flying spittle. The night air was filled with the creatures’ guttural snarling and the panicked voices of the Custodians. For a moment Trev was all that stood in the path of the onrushing beasts. He didn’t fancy being flattened by a steamroller of teeth and claws, so he sprinted to his right. Most of the barghests ploughed straight on, fixated on the group of people behind him, but a couple of them swerved to follow Trev as he dodged.
The leading barghest leapt into the air, jaws agape. Trev spun aside, raking the beast’s flank with both weapons as it went past. Black essence erupted from the wounds and the barghest crashed to the ground, howling.
It won’t be out of the fight for long, laddie, said Caladbolg.
Trev didn’t respond as he had his hands full with the second barghest. Learning from its comrade’s mistake, it didn’t leap at Trev. Instead it kept its head low and snapped at his legs. Trev backed away, keeping the creature at bay with Caladbolg and waiting for an opening. The barghest lunged too far and Trev side-stepped, smashing Tyrfing down on its back. The beast collapsed, thrashing in the snow.
Having bought himself some breathing space, Trev looked around to see how the Custodians were faring. They’d formed a defensive wall with their backs to the burned-out house. The barghests were being held off by a flickering blur of vapour weapon blades, but Trev knew the Custodians couldn’t hold out for long. As soon as one of the defenders fell, the wall would fragment. Even if they stood firm, the Custodians’ vapour weapons would run out of energy sooner or later.
A flash of green caught Trev’s attention and he saw – to his surprise – Barker piling into the rear of the attacking barghests. They scattered, giving the Custodians a brief respite. In the confusion, with their guards distracted by glowing eyes and snapping teeth, Douglas and his minder decided to make a run for it. They shoved their way out from behind the Custodians and sprinted for the trees. A pair of barghests caught the movement and broke away from the pack to give chase. Trev swore and ran after them.
Unfortunately for Trev’s rescue attempt, the first barghest he’d fought had recovered from its injuries. It sprang at him from the side. Trev threw himself out of the way, losing his footing in the process. He managed to keep hold of his weapons as he went down, turning a dangerous fall into a controlled slide across the snow-covered road. He heard the barghest’s jaws slam shut inches from his head and got a waft of the creature’s hot, rotting breath to boot.
He swivelled and got to one knee. The barghest was on him again before he could stand. He thrust out with Caladbolg, simultaneously raising Tyrfing to protect his face. The lightning-blade found its mark. It slipped below the onrushing barghest’s lower jaw and sank deep into its chest. The creature let out a gurgling howl and crashed to the ground. Trev rolled aside as it slid past him, coming up onto his feet.
That’s how it’s done, boyo! said a gleeful Caladbolg. As usual, the Celtic sword was thoroughly enjoying the fight. Now, what happened to the two fellas who ran away?
As if in response, a pair of screams rang out from the darkness. Both were abruptly silenced. Trev ran towards the source of the sound, feeling sick. Coloured light spilled across the snow from the various vapour weapons as the Custodians resumed their defence. Two barghests shot out of the darkness and joined their fellows, streamers of blood trailing from their jaws. Trev knew then that there was no hope for Douglas and his companion. He came to a halt.
Bad Trev stirred again. Trev turned to look at Smith. He was still standing at the far end of the road, his lantern held high. It swayed gently in his grasp. Trev wondered why he hadn’t joined the attack. With the power of his lantern he could’ve paralysed the Custodians and left them easy targets.
Smith moved his arm one way, then the other. Trev saw the barghests veer away from the Custodians before rushing back in. He’s controlling them, he realised. That’s why he hasn’t used the lantern against us. There was a shout of pain as a set of teeth found their mark. One of the Custodians fell back, clutching his arm. The barghest that had bitten him tried to follow up its attack and Trev was surprised to see Sarah step out from behind the wounded man. She had an old-fashioned revolver in her hand that Trev recognised as Barker’s. The weapon boomed as Sarah shot the barghest in the face, and it yelped and fell back. The Custodians were able to plug the gap in their defence.
Trev became aware that he’d wasted several seconds just standing there. The wounded barghests were stirring. He set off to join the Custodians, glancing at Smith as he went.
The man was grinning. He was throwing wave after wave of bloodthirsty beasts against a group of strangers and he was grinning. The sight caused Bad Trev to erupt in Trev’s chest, tapping into the fear and anger he thought he’d controlled. His fists clenched around his weapons and his lips drew back from his gritted teeth.
‘All right,’ he growled, and he let the darkness take over.
Things became very clear. He had to kill Smith. The Custodians could look after themselves; they’d provide a useful distraction to allow him to do what needed to be done.
Trev’s boots crunched into the snow as he launched himself into a run. The two barghests he’d already fought ran at him. Trev snarled back at them. They jumped at him together, shoulders almost touching. Trev planted his left foot and pivoted, thrusting out with both arms. His vapour weapons skewered the nearest barghest, punching straight through its body and into its comrade behind. Black essence gushed from the wounds, evaporating into the cold air.
The barghests thumped into the snow, twitching. Trev put his boot on the uppermost one and pulled his weapons free. He turned to see Smith staring at him. He bared his teeth again and started running.
Smith’s grin widened. He waved the lantern and Trev heard barks and growls behind him. He kept running. The sound of claws on snow pursued him. As they got closer, he skidded to a halt and spun round. A barghest was soaring towards him, spittle streaming from its gaping jaws. Trev planted himself and swatted the creature out of the air like a cricketer hitting a hook shot to the boundary. Bad Trev was enjoying itself. Another barghest ca
me at him and found itself on the receiving end of Caladbolg. It crashed to the ground.
Smith wasn’t grinning anymore. Their eyes met and Trev thought he saw a flicker of worry in them. Bad Trev reacted with savage glee at this apparent sign of weakness. His pulse pounded in his ears and his breath steamed into the dark in a cloud. He was focused on his enemy. Smith was barely alive anyway; it was time to send him screaming into the afterlife he dreaded.
Another barghest ran at him and Trev smashed it to the ground without taking his gaze off Smith. He broke into a run again. Ruby and Franz had said that vapour weapons couldn’t hurt Smith. Well, what did they know? Trev reckoned he’d put the hypothesis to the test. He didn’t have a complicated strategy. He was just going to hammer the bastard into the ground and see if that would do it.
‘Trev!’
He heard the voice behind him and ignored it. He was busy. There was justice to be exacted. Smith was waving his lantern more energetically now, as if that would save him.
‘Trev! Please!’
Trev frowned. The voice was insistent, threatening to break through his bubble of homicidal focus. Irritating. Smith was close now. Trev couldn’t afford any distractions.
‘Trev! Help us! Please!’
The bubble burst. Trev skidded to a stop. That was Sarah’s voice. What was happening?
He turned around. The barghests were hurling themselves at the Custodians in a frenzy. Trev saw a bloodied body lying on the ground. Vapour weapons rose and fell. Black essence spurted. Spittle flew. His companions were seconds from being wiped out, and he was charging off on a one-man crusade to kill a man who couldn’t be killed? What was he doing?
Trev charged back the other way. The barghests he’d fought on his chase after Smith had joined their fellows in hurling themselves at the Custodians. That was Smith’s best defence, of course. While he was still controlling the beasts he couldn’t use his power to fend Trev off, but he could force him to go to his companions’ aid instead. The dark influence within Trev still cried out for bloody vengeance, but the danger facing his companions had pulled him back from the brink.