Witchslapped in Westerham
Page 3
I put my ear to the door for a last-ditch check. The only thing I could hear was the blood swooshing past my eardrums. After a deep breath, I carefully opened the door a crack and peered through.
She was curled up on the floor in the foetal position, her hands, palms together, supporting her head. And was she snoring? Oh my God, she was. I laughed quietly—no sense in risking her waking up. It was likely my spell would last until tomorrow, but if my magic was weak, the spell would finish early. I’d tell Angelica before then and have her check that Olivia was going to stay asleep.
But what did we do when she woke up angry? I crossed my fingers that the anger would be gone by then. I went to her room and grabbed her doona and put it over her. I bit my lip. I really should give her a pillow too, but I was too scared she’d wake up. Best to let the bear sleep.
I ducked downstairs, grabbed my phone, and called Angelica. It rang a few times before she answered, which was unlike her. She was usually Quick Draw McGraw when it came to her phone. “Hello, Lily.” She sounded out of breath, and there was shouting in the background. “I’m a bit busy right now.”
It sounded as if she was in the middle of an angry mob. “Is everything okay?”
Someone screamed, “Kill the copper scum!”
“Can you just get to the point? I'm in a situation at the moment.”
“Sorry. Can you check Olivia when you get home? She went nuts and tried to beat me up, and I had to put her to sleep.”
“Is she still breathing?” Her question was posed as calmly as if she were asking me if I’d like jam and cream with my scone. Nothing fazed her.
“Yes, of course. She’s snoring on the hallway floor outside my bedroom.”
“Okay, as long as she’s alive. I have to go, dear. See you in a few hours.” A scream came through the line just before she hung up. What the hell was going on out there? Was this the apocalypse?
I showered, got ready for bed, and locked myself in my room, just in case. I turned my laptop on. It was time to see what I could find out. Fear squirmed in my belly. Please don’t be chaos all over the world—well, more chaos than usual. I mean, the world had been going to hell lately, but this was the underworld on steroids.
I googled “outbreak of violence USA.” A few articles on mass shootings from the past couple of years showed up but nothing unusual. I shook my head at the fact that I thought that amount of horror wasn’t unusual. I sighed. Now wasn’t the time to get upset about all the things I couldn't change. I typed in the same phrase for Sydney. Nothing. Thank God my home city was okay. After a bit more research, it seemed as if the unusual amount of violence was concentrated in Westerham and a few other villages in Kent, with a small uptick in London. I’d love to see the police stats. They would probably point to Westerham being the centre with the problems radiating out in a diminishing circle. I’d bring it up with Angelica later.
I sent a quick email off to my two best friends back in Sydney, letting them know I was okay, just in case they’d seen anything on the news over there. Not that they were likely to. I shut my laptop and got under the covers. Hopefully when I woke up, this disaster would be over.
Unfortunately, hope was a slacker when it came to actually fixing anything. But right now, it was all I had.
Chapter 2
“You stole my ice cream!”
I woke up, unsure if I’d been having a nightmare or if the shouting was real.
Thump, thump, thump. “I know you’re in there, Lily. I’m going to kill you!” The door shook with each strike.
Okay, it was real. When was Olivia going to give up on wanting to hurt me? A massive bang landed on the door, accompanied by a crack. Looked as if my door wasn’t going to survive her attack. There was only one thing to do.
I jumped out of bed and hurried to the door. Once my palms were against the timber, I repeated my spell from last night but with a minor change. “My friend, Olivia is banging on my bedroom door. Put her to sleep until this evening, and let her fall gently onto the floor.”
Thud. Silence. I listened for a moment, then carefully unlocked and opened the door a crack, ready to slam it again if need be. I smiled. Sleeping Beauty was snoring again. I opened the door all the way. There was a depression at about thigh height and a hairline crack in the wood. She must have kicked it—she hadn’t removed the sneakers she’d been wearing yesterday.
How long would this episode last? What if she never calmed down? I swallowed as nausea bubbled up from my stomach into my chest. What if none of the angry people ever turned normal again? Was it a virus, kind of like when people became zombies? Okay, zombies didn’t really exist… or did they? I’d never thought witches existed till I found out I was one.
Crap.
I shut and locked my door again, just in case, and checked the time. Five thirty. Argh, I hated getting up early unless I had something fun to do, and protecting myself from a crazy person was not my idea of fun. I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and grabbed a cardigan. It might be summer, but you never knew when the UK forgot what season it was supposed to be, unless it was winter—the UK was good at winter. I grabbed my knapsack with my camera, phone, and wallet. The hallway was still quiet, so I opened the door and stepped over Olivia. “Sorry,” I whispered.
All of the noise this morning should have woken Angelica, provided she was even home. I knocked on her bedroom door. Nothing. I opened it to an empty room with an immaculate bed. Things were not going well if she hadn’t come home. It was obvious the PIB needed all the help it could get.
I called Angelica. She answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Lily. You’re up early. How’s Olivia?” At least there was no war going on in the background this time.
“She woke me by banging on my door and threatening to kill me. I guess that answers your question. I’m coming into the PIB to help. I’m sure you could use an extra pair of hands.” I didn’t particularly like the place. If being arrested and spending time in their gross toilet-scented cells weren’t bad enough, the boss, Drake Pembleton, and Agent Dana were enough to turn me off for life, but James, Millicent, and Angelica needed me. Westerham needed me.
“Thank you, Lily. We could definitely use your help. I’ll see you here in a minute. Your usual rate of pay applies.”
“Oh, but I’m not doing anything special.”
“Doesn’t matter. Everyone’s on extra pay because they’re working double shifts, and like I said: we need you.”
Well, if she wanted to pay me lots of money, who was I to argue? “Okay, thanks. Bye.” I hung up and made my door to the PIB reception room.
I looked through the small glass square on the reception-room door. A familiar middle-aged face stared back at me, one I hadn’t seen for a while. The door opened. “Hello, Gus! Long time no see.” I smiled as I stepped into the hallway.
He smiled and shut the door. “Welcome back, Miss Lily. I see you’ve learnt a thing or two since I saw you last.”
“That I have. How’s your wife doing?” Last time I’d seen him, his wife had just had her gallbladder removed.
“She’s doing rather well. She can’t eat rich foods anymore, so black pudding Sundays have gone out the window, but what can you do?” He shrugged.
I tried to keep my face from scrunching. Ew, black pudding, which was essentially coagulated blood. If someone handed me some, it would definitely be out the window. She’d just done them both a favour, and he didn’t even realise.
Gus started walking down the corridor. “I’ll be taking you to Ma’am. She’s in the control centre.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Gus.”
“My pleasure, Miss Lily.”
We took a few turns and came upon a lift I hadn’t seen before. It was at the opposite end of the complex to the other lifts, although that was a guess on my part, taking into account where we’d walked. These corridors had no windows, so I could’ve been turned around and not realised. Gus waved his security tag across a sensor, and within half a minute, the lift arrived.
We stood there, waiting. And waiting. Hmm, white floors, check. White walls, check. White ceiling, check. La de da da. I caved. I didn’t do well with standing quietly in confined areas with people I hardly knew. “So, Gus, no more black pudding, huh.”
He nodded, his face sad. “Aye, miss, no more black pudding.”
“Has your dog been vomiting lately?” I hated small talk, but being in this enclosed space with no sound was really getting to me.
“Actually, he vomited yesterday, but he did it on the tiles in the kitchen. Lucky for me, he ate it again. I just had to give the floor a quick mop.”
I gagged and covered it by coughing. “That’s great news.” Why had I instigated this conversation? Oh, that’s right: I was feeling uncomfortable. How had I managed to make it worse?
Then, a rectangular section of wall, the size of a door, moved backwards a couple of inches, then silently slid across, revealing Ma’am. She was in her PIB gear: white shirt, black pencil skirt, and jacket; however, her tie was missing. Her hair was in its usual immaculate bun, but there were dark circles under her eyes. “Hello, Lily. Welcome to the control room. Thanks for bringing her down here, Gus.”
“My pleasure, Ma’am.” He gave a respectful nod, then turned to me. “It was lovely seeing you again, miss.”
“Likewise, Gus. See you later.”
As Gus strolled back down the way we’d come, Ma’am led me into the room, and the door silently closed.
The room was quite large, probably four times the size of the conference room. Grey carpet covered the floor, and the walls were standard PIB white. Several manned workstations lined the walls, each one with a desktop computer and phone. A conference table surrounded by eight chairs took up the middle of the room, and the far wall was covered with TV screens, each one showing a different scene. Some were outside, in downtown Westerham—I recognised Costas in one of the pictures—a couple of screens showed what looked like interrogation rooms or cells, and the others showed the streets of other villages, some from fixed cameras, and a couple from what must be body cams. Unfortunately, most of them showed people hurting other people or damaging property. You would have thought that at six in the morning, not much would be happening, but you’d be wrong.
The low hum of voices buzzed through the room along with a sense of energy borne of action and purpose. People hurried from one end of the room to the other, handing each other documents, asking questions, or pointing to one of the screens. Phones were answered and hung up and answered again. I didn’t spy any familiar faces. “So, Ma’am, what do you need me to do?”
“It would be wonderful if you could give me some of your magic and replenish my energy, but since that’s impossible, I’ll get you to answer the phones. At the moment, we’re dealing with whatever overflow the police send us, which is a damn lot, to be honest.” She must be feeling the stress since she never let loose like that. And yes, that was Ma’am letting loose. She lowered her voice. “If we don’t get things under control soon, we’ll have to call the army in. I’ve never seen a situation like this before. It’s unheard of.”
She led me to the only vacant desk with a computer and phone. “The calls we’re getting are straight from outside, so you’ll be talking to the public. Make sure to answer the phone, Kent Emergency Services. What is your emergency?”
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Once you’ve answered the phone, remain calm, no matter what they tell you. Ask for their full name, their location, and what their emergency is. Each time you answer the phone, a page will come up on the computer. I want you to type in all the details there, and make sure to ask how to spell all names—we don’t want to go to the wrong house, for instance. Once the call has ended, click on the Process button, and that will send it through to the next stage. You’ll also have to decide which type of emergency service they need and tick these boxes.” She pointed to the screen, which had either a Police, Ambulance, or Fire next to each box.
My brain raced. What if I got something wrong and didn’t get help to the person in time? I licked my bottom lip. This was a lot of responsibility.
“You can do it, Lily. It’s easy. If I didn’t think you were capable, I wouldn’t have asked you to help. Besides even someone making a mistake is better than no one, and we’re quickly running out of agents to replace the exhausted ones.”
“I’m nervous, but I’ll be fine. You can count on me.” I smiled.
“Good. Now, quickly, before you start, what happened with Olivia?”
I told her about this morning, and she frowned.
“I was hoping it would have worn off sooner.” She blew out a heavy breath, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose before composing herself. “We’re either dealing with a virus or magic that only affects non-witches. But that’s about as much as we know. We’re holding some of those arrested because Kent police have run out of cells, and they can’t put people together, or they attack each other.” She shook her head. “We’ve been doing what you did and putting sleep spells on everyone so we can have more than one in a cell. It’s getting tricky because we’re running out of space too.”
“So you don’t know how long this thing lasts or where it came from?”
“No. We’re running various tests on the detainees here, so hopefully we’ll have an answer soon. Okay, Lily, time to get to work. If you need anything—food, drink—just press this button on your phone”—she pointed to a blue button at the bottom of the landline phone—“and Felix will come on the line and take your order.”
“Who’s Felix?”
“He runs the cafeteria upstairs. He’ll send someone down with whatever you want.”
“Okay, thanks.”
A short, wiry man in a PIB suit and tie appeared at Ma’am’s shoulder. His front teeth stuck out, and when he gave Ma’am a jerky nod, he looked like a rat. I expected him to cup his hands and use them to clean his ears and face at any moment. “Ma’am, can I see you for a moment, please?”
She turned to him. “Of course, Agent Wilson.” They walked away, and I sat and answered my first call. My mind blanked. Crap. Oh, that’s right. “Good morning, Kent Emergency Services. You’re speaking with Lily. Can you state your name and your emergency?”
“Myra Wilson. My husband got a knife and slashed my favourite curtains. Now he’s threatening to cut up our quilt covers.” She sniffed as if she’d been crying. “I don’t know what to do. Please help. He’s never liked those curtains, and he says the floral print on the bed is too girly, but I never thought he hated them enough to kill them.”
Kill them? Whilst murdering curtains wasn’t illegal, this was a tough one. On one hand, he had a knife and wasn’t afraid to use it, but on the other, he was only attacking inanimate objects, except what if he got angry enough to use it on her? “Can you spell your name please and give me your address. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible.” Whether this would be deemed an emergency or not was someone else’s decision, thank goodness.
She gave me all the details, which I typed into the computer. I pressed Process, then answered my next call. Before I knew it, four hours had passed. I tilted my head to one side, then the other to stretch out the kinks. And was that a grumble coming from my stomach region? I did believe it was.
I held the receiver to my ear and pushed the blue button. Felix came on the line, and I ordered a cappuccino, a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich, and a chocolate-filled croissant. That should keep me going until the afternoon.
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Ma’am stood in front of the wall with the TV screens. Grrr. My least favourite person was standing next to her: Dana Piranha. “I’m going h
ome to have a couple of hours’ sleep. While I'm gone, Agent Lam will be in charge.”
Oh, great, just what I wanted, to be lorded over by that b—
“We’ve also had news that the people the police locked up yesterday morning, when this whole thing started, have calmed down. They remember what happened but claim it felt like a dream. Most were shocked to discover they’d been violent in real life. We’ll have a meeting when I come back in later this afternoon. Great work, everyone. Now back to it.” Angelica said something to Dana, walked towards the doorway, and left.
Piranha threw me a narrowed-eye gaze. Was that supposed to intimidate me? I smiled and waggled my fingers in a sarcastic wave. She curled her lip into a sneer. Good, I annoyed her. While that had been my goal, I couldn’t totally shut out the voice that whispered, “Don’t poke the piranha.” Fine. I took heed of that inner voice and turned back to my computer.
Just as I was about to answer a call, a tray popped onto my table with my food order. Oh my God, yum! The coffee was in a large mug. I brought it to my nose and sniffed. My eyes practically rolled into the back of my head. I so needed this caffeine fix. I took a sip. Mmm, so good.
“What are you doing?” Piranha stood next to my desk, her arms folded, fin… ah, foot, tapping on the floor.
“Having lunch. I haven’t eaten at all today. Ma’am said I could order food and drink when I needed to.”
She glared at me and pressed her lips together. She was probably trying to figure out how to get me into trouble, and I bet she would’ve taken my food away if she could have. I’d dropped Ma’am’s name into the conversation to let her know I would totally be telling her boss about anything horrible she did to me while there were no witnesses.
“Well, hurry up. You’re not paid to eat lunch.” She turned with an exaggerated sweep of her head, her glossy straight hair flinging around like in a shampoo ad. All she needed was a galloping horse, and the scene would be complete. Drama queen.
After finishing my food, I got back on the phone. The calls had slowed somewhat, but that was probably because three-quarters of Westerham’s population was already incarcerated. Would everyone have a criminal record after this, or would the police agree it had been an anomaly and let them off with a warning?