“Mike,” called a voice from behind him. He turned. Becks was standing in the doorway between this world and the real one. “I love you,” she called to him. He took a step towards her.
“Really?” said the demon. “If you love her, you’d better leave her, or else she’ll end up dead because of you.” Mike stopped.
“Mike, you don’t have to believe in God. Just believe in GOOD” Becks said holding out both of her hands to him. He took a step towards her.
“Don’t do that Michael,” warned the demon. Mike ignored it and walked to Becks taking her hands in his.
“I’ll do a deal with you Michael,” said the demon, a hint of desperation in its voice “Amanda Poole’s soul for yours.” Mike stopped dead and looked at the demon over his shoulder.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do anything Michael. I can give you the chance to make it right.”
“But why would you do that?”
“Because she is of little consequence compared to you, a man of God. Your immortal soul is worth a lot more than hers.”
“But I’m not a man of God anymore,” Mike replied grimly. “You said so yourself, it doesn’t make sense, so no deal.” Mike stepped through the door with Becks and the doorway vanished leaving just the nightmare landscape and the boiling black sky.
“Bollocks,” said the demon.
With a lurch Mike was back in the church, he was down on one knee and Becks had her arm around him. Tom and Gregor were still chanting furiously at the demon. Mike picked up his bible and handed it to Becks. He scooped up a handful of salt from the circle with one hand and the phial of holy water with the other and hauled himself to his feet.
“In the name of God I command you to leave,” he yelled, throwing the salt at the demon. The demon pulled back his hand as if scalded.
“In the name of God I command you to leave,” they roared in unison. Mike threw the entire contents of the phial of holy water at the demon. It roared in anger, for a split second it became an outline that was a hole in the air to somewhere else, then it imploded. There was a sound like thunder in the church, several of the overhead lights shattered showering them in glass. Hymn books exploded filling the air with shredded paper. The church door slammed shut with a loud crash. Then silence.
Nobody said anything for a minute or so. Mike made sure Becks was OK before switching on what was left of the church lights. It was like standing in a giant snow globe, the shredded hymn books fluttering down, covering everything in white. Gregor produced a hip flask and took a swig before handing it to Mike. He then looked on in alarm while Tom and Becks also took a swig before returning it to him.
“Thought you were flagging for a second there Mike,” he said gripping Mike’s shoulder.
“A second? I must have been out for longer than that,” replied Mike shaking his head. Tom and Gregor looked at each other quizzically.
“No,” said Tom, You just dropped your bible and went down on one knee for a second. Becks said something in your ear and you were back up and swinging again. What did you say to him Becks?”
“None of your business Tom Preston,” said Becks coyly. She surveyed the chaos around them. “Fancy cleaning up?” she offered without enthusiasm.
“No I bloody well don’t,” said Gregor indignantly. “I’m knackered, I fancy an Indian take away and some beer.”
“Sounds like a plan,” offered Tom. They all agreed. It was a plan.
They ordered a takeaway and Mike went to collect it, calling in at the village shop for some beer and wine on the way. They were soon sitting round the kitchen table eating and chatting. Mike told them about the vision he’d experienced with the demon.
“So it was after you all along,” mused Gregor.
“I found myself walking towards it,” admitted Mike, “But Becks called me back.” He looked to Becks who did her best to smile with a mouthful of onion bhaji. “She told me she loved me.” He paused before continuing. “And that I didn’t have to believe in God, just to believe in good.” He looked to Tom and Gregor for their reaction and was relieved to see both his friends nodding their assent.
“Yep, faith in good will do the trick,” said Tom smiling.
“It offered me a deal Gregor, Amanda Poole’s soul in exchange for my own.” Mike said bitterly looking directly at his friend. “I said no, basically because I was scared, but I wonder if I should have said yes. I wonder if I had the chance to make things right.”
“No,” replied Gregor firmly. “Demons are liars, they will tell you anything. I don’t actually believe that a soul can be brought back once it’s been taken. You did the right thing Mike. She cannot be saved now.” Mike nodded sadly and carried on eating. They finished the food and Mike and Becks took Cookie for a short walk. Back at the vicarage Tom and Gregor were debating how to write up today’s events in a report for the bishop without being excommunicated.
“I’m too tired to walk up the village with Cookie,” announced Becks, “Is it OK if I crash in one of your spare rooms?”
“Of course,” replied Mike, “but you’ll have to make the bed up.” Becks made sure Cookie had enough water and biscuits, then made herself a coffee, kissed Mike and went to bed. Mike stayed up for an hour or so chatting with Tom and Gregor then turned in himself. He lay awake, turning over the day’s events in his head. Was he a coward? Had his failing faith brought death to his new parish? Difficult questions with no easy answers. He heard Tom and Gregor come up the stairs and go to their rooms and still he lay awake. Suddenly he heard a noise. A floorboard creaked from out on the landing. He listened harder, another creak, this time directly outside his door. He looked over to the bedroom door. The door handle started to turn slowly. Suddenly the door opened and Becks stepped inside.
“Only me,” she giggled shutting the door.
“You scared the crap out of me,” hissed Mike.
“Just glad I got the right room,” whispered Becks as she undressed by the bed and slid in beside Mike. “Oooh vicar, you’re naked,” she giggled with mock outrage.
“I always sleep naked,” said Mike, “Pyjamas are for wimps.”
“So how do you keep warm?” purred Becks.
“Come here and I’ll show you,” said Mike, pulling Becks to him and kissing her hard.
Chapter Eleven - Sunday
He woke to the sound of the wind howling past the vicarage windows. Becks was still asleep beside him and he let her wake up herself before kissing her good morning. They lay there for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth.
“Be a busy one today,” said Mike absently.
“Why?” replied Becks frowning.
“Four deaths in the village this week, the more people experience death, the more they want to make their peace with God.” Becks nodded. Cynical but true. Suddenly footsteps were heard on the landing, stopping outside the bedroom door. There was a loud knock on the door.
“Shit,” hissed Becks.
“Just a minute,” called Mike. Becks jumped out of bed and leaped naked over to the linen cupboard, squeezing herself in and pulling the door shut.
“OK,” said Mike. The door opened and Gregor leaned in, mug of coffee in hand.
“Me and Tom are doing breakfast,” he beamed. “Be ready in ten minutes.”
“Oh thanks,” said Mike “I’ll let Becks know.”
“Oh it’s OK Mike I’ll do that,” Gregor smirked and looked towards the linen cupboard. “Breakfast in ten minutes Becks, how do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled please Gregor,” replied a sheepish voice from the cupboard.
“See you guys in ten,” Gregor winked and shut the door.
“How did he know I was here?” said Becks stepping still naked from the cupboard. She was quite a sight thought Mike.
“Oh Gregor knows lots of things,” laughed Mike. “He certainly knows that those pants on the floor aren’t mine.”
Breakfast was a leisurely affair, plenty of tea, coffee, food and goo
d natured banter between friends.
“I’ll e-mail you a copy of the report we do for the bishop,” said Tom. “Make sure we’re all singing from the same hymn sheet, so to speak.”
“Better send it to me,” warned Becks “Mike will probably delete it.”
“True,” admitted Mike. “Are you staying for my sermon?”
“We bloody well have to,” snorted Gregor, “We can’t pick the car up till tomorrow.”
“What my colleague meant to say,” corrected Tom. “Was that we would love to stay and hear your sermon old friend, there is nothing we would rather do.”
“Oh yes, obviously, what he said,” said Gregor waving a hand at Tom. “But I’m going up the pub to watch the old firm derby afterwards.” They were interrupted by a frantic knocking at the kitchen door. Mike opened it and found an agitated Harold Farnsworth standing on the step.
“Come in Harold,” said Mike, introducing Harold to Tom and Gregor. “Whatever’s wrong?”
“Vandals,” said Harold sternly.
“What?” said Mike.
“Vandals,” repeated Harold. Getting no response he added, “In the church.”
“Ah,” said Mike suddenly understanding.
“Broken lights and torn hymn book everywhere, it’s a right mess,” continued Harold.
“Well if we all muck in, I’m sure we can get it cleaned up,” said Mike reaching for his coat. They all grabbed their coats and prepared to follow a still muttering Harold over to the church. Tom tapped him on the arm as he was about to go through the door and pulled him to one side.
“You know you’re going to have to keep your eyes peeled for anything unusual from now on, don’t you?”
“How do you mean?” asked Mike.
“Well once you have had contact with paranormal entities, it can leave a trace.” He thought for an example. “Like a website leaves a cookie on your computer, so it can more easily make contact in the future. Well you’ve had contact with this one twice now. So just be careful OK?”
“Right,” said Mike following Tom out the door, “Careful it will be.”
The sky boiled black, the flames from the refinery belched skywards. The demon finally turned from the place where the doorway had been and stepped into the barge. The barge pulled away and slid out into the blackness.
“Maybe another time Michael Cunningham, maybe another time,” it muttered.
The Haunting of Winter Hill Page 10
