by Rich Hawkins
He pictured large wings of leathery skin and membrane.
“You all right?” Andy asked him.
Seth lowered his face from above and gave a shaky nod. “Thought I heard something.”
“Heard what?”
“Nothing, I think. It doesn’t matter.”
But as they walked on, Seth couldn’t help glancing up several times at the pallid sky. There was just the steady snow. That was all. He shook his head and exhaled deeply, the breath trembling out of him and misting in the air.
In the end, he forced himself to stop looking and faced straight ahead, placing one foot in front of the other and praying that the train station would appear soon.
CHAPTER THREE
They reached the train station as the pale sky began to lose its light, and by the time they’d trudged up the gentle slope to the platform they were ready to drop.
Seth hunched over, breathing through clenched teeth, his legs feeling like thin sticks. Andy rested against a pillar and belched wetly. Miles brushed snow from his coat and scanned their surroundings.
They gathered close together, shivering and looking about the two platforms, expecting a staff member to appear. But the platforms were deserted and no one came out to meet them. Bags and suitcases had been left behind, with no sign of their owners. The wind wailed and whispered under eaves and around metal beams, blowing snow under the roofs of the two platforms, where it gathered in dusted scatterings amidst and upon the discarded bags. A metal sign flapped and clanged.
The door to the ticket office had been left ajar by the last person to use it, and now thumped against its frame.
Andy’s eyes were watery and forlorn. He buried his hands in his pockets. “Where are all the people?”
No one answered.
*
They found a half-frozen trail of smeared blood running from the centre of the platform all the way to one end, where it stopped abruptly, as though whoever was dragged there had simply vanished.
“This can’t be happening,” Andy repeated several times, before he put his hand over his mouth. He stepped back, shaking his head.
Miles crouched next to where the blood trail ended. He reached out to touch it, but thought better of it at the last moment. He stood and moved away.
The three men looked at each other, then again at the blood, before retreating from the edge of the platform.
Seth thought again of the terrible thing he’d seen before the train crash, and bit down on his tongue to keep silent.
*
While snow pattered against the large windows, the men searched the ticket office and the waiting rooms, but found no sign of life. The heaters inside the main building were cold and the lights didn’t work. The ticket machines stood darkened and useless. The landline phones were dead, without even a dial tone.
They found no more blood.
Seth hugged himself for warmth. His insides felt loose. Andy kept shaking his head as he glanced around.
Miles said the power was down because of the weather, but didn’t sound convinced by his own speculation, and the expression that Seth glimpsed briefly on his face confirmed it.
*
They searched the rest of the station, but it was completely deserted in the deepening cold, a silent place of thickening shadows and abandoned luggage. Miles found a utility knife in a desk drawer and his eyes met Seth’s as he retracted the blade, but neither man said anything.
“Just in case,” Miles said. “There might be some bad people hanging around, somewhere…”
Seth didn’t reply.
The snow kept falling.
CHAPTER FOUR
Miles led them through the main doors out to the car park, which was empty save for a few scattered vehicles left in their spaces upon the snowy tarmac. The cars were uniform shapes slumping under a thick layer of snow, and the white-out shrouded the edges of the car park and the small town beyond.
The silence was oppressive, full of threats and portent, amplifying the tolling of Seth’s pulse inside his head. It was enough to subdue the men. Seth looked down at the red stains in the snow and put one hand to his mouth.
Andy crouched down to carefully pick up a discarded smartphone. He stood again, brushing it clean with the sleeve of his coat, and then he switched it on.
“It still works,” he said.
“Let me guess,” said Miles. “The network’s down.”
Andy nodded, his shoulders slumping.
Miles spat. “Fuck’s sake.”
Andy’s forefinger moved upon the phone’s screen. He looked at Miles and Seth. “Uh, fellas, there’s a video.”
“What do you mean?” asked Seth.
Andy was already watching it. His eyes widened. “Holy shit. You should see this.”
Seth and Miles stood either side of him as he pressed the ‘replay’ icon and turned up the volume. The small screen darkened and twitched as the video began to play. The footage was shaky, indistinct, with panicked voices and the sound of a child crying. Then it steadied somewhat to show glimpses of people hurrying through the waiting room inside the station. Seth thought he heard a scream from behind the people, perhaps out on the platform. Then the crowd emerged from the station and stumbled into the car park the three men now stood in. Snow fell heavily. The phone’s camera was raised towards the sky as a woman cried out and an immense shadow fell over the group. There was a glimpse of something gargantuan and awful with a nest of glowing white eyes, before the phone fell to the ground to record the screams, flailing feet and spraying blood.
A few seconds later the footage cut out.
“Jesus Christ!” said Miles. “What the hell was that?”
Seth shook his head slowly. He looked around at the shapes of half-frozen blood slowly being erased by the falling snow, and then put a hand against an abandoned car so he wouldn’t keel over. The world swayed around him for a moment.
“Was that real?” said Andy. “Was that fucking real?”
Miles gestured to the blood on the ground. “If not, it’s a hell of a prank.”
“It didn’t leave any bodies,” Seth muttered.
Andy looked sharply at him. “What are you saying?”
“What do you think he’s saying?” snapped Miles.
From out of the distance, beyond the car park and the falling snow, came the deep roaring of something monstrous and huge. It reverberated in the air then faded away, leaving the men in stunned silence. Seth backed up against the car as the breath hitched in his chest. His heart faltered for a moment. Andy dropped the smartphone and stepped back, his throat working, hands at his sides with nothing to do.
Miles didn’t move. He stared out into the white veil of snow and vapour.
The roar of the unknown thing was followed by a shrill wailing from a different direction, far away. It didn’t sound human, and it pierced the air, seeming to rear and fall into the sky, wavering in the falling snow, before it stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
Seth tried to picture what could make such sounds, but his imagination didn’t seem capable. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He remembered the massive, writhing shadow he’d seen before the train crash. Such things weren’t real. Couldn’t be real. It was preposterous. It was madness to even be contemplated.
He wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering and sniffling, aching in his bones.
Andy looked at them both, in turn. “We need to get back inside.”
Miles stared straight ahead, as if waiting for something to emerge from the nothingness of snow and fog. His hands were clenched into fists, the knuckles white, his brow creasing in wrinkled lines. He looked older than he had a moment ago.
“All right,” he said in a hushed voice, his mouth barely moving. “Let’s go. It’ll be dark soon.”
And as they turned to go back inside, other prehistoric cries and awful shrieks rose from beyond them. It sounded as if all hell and chaos had come to the world.
CHAPTER FIVE
> The three men sheltered in the waiting room, terrified and cold and mostly clueless. There was just silence except for the whisper of snow falling to cover the bloodstains in the car park.
None of them spoke for a long while. Seth slumped against a wall and dabbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He tried not to panic when he thought of his parents, but he was starting to be overwhelmed by trauma, shock and fear. He felt as though he was losing himself in the aftermath.
Miles stood by one of the windows that looked out upon the car park, keeping watch for whatever dwelt out there in the snow.
Andy sat in the middle of a row of seats in the centre of the room. He let out a low yawn. Bruises darkened the skin underneath his eyes, which were bloodshot and watery. He fidgeted and looked around, his expression vague and soft. He looked like a little boy hoping that everything would get better. Seth could sympathise. Everything had changed and the immediate future seemed hostile and uncertain. Cold dread ached in his gut.
The shadows in the waiting room were darkening and spreading as dusk began to fall.
“Monsters,” Andy said. “Fucking hell. That’s what we heard out there, yeah? That’s what we saw on that video? And all that blood was from people, right? People’s blood? Holy fuck.”
Miles turned away from the window and slumped into a plastic chair. “I think we’re in trouble.”
“No shit,” said Andy.
“What do we do now?” Seth asked, trying to keep his hands warm in his pockets.
Andy sniffled, wiped his nose, not taking his eyes from the floor. “Good question. What the fuck do we do?”
“I don’t know,” Miles said.
Andy turned his head towards Seth. “What do you think? Any ideas?”
Seth scratched at his mouth. “Maybe we should just get back to the train.”
“I’m not going back out there, mate,” said Andy.”
“We can’t just leave those people at the crash site. They’re relying on us to get help.”
Andy shook his head and gave a weak shrug. “Maybe there is no help.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?”
“Andy’s right,” said Miles. “We should assume that no one is coming to help us or the other survivors.” He let out a breath that seemed to deflate parts of him.
“So, what do we do?” Seth replied. “Just wait here and see what happens?”
“I don’t know.”
Andy wore an expression of dismay. “I’m not going back out there. Fuck all that.”
“We have to, eventually,” Miles told him.
“Not after what we’ve seen and heard today. No way.”I’d rather piss glass, mate.”
Seth wiped his stinging eyes and gave a sour laugh of desperation and bewilderment. “This is a nightmare.”
Miles rose from his chair. “I’m going to head back to the train.”
Andy looked up at him. “Did you not see that video?”
“We can’t leave them stranded. We can’t abandon them. Something has to be done.”
“You’ll die if you go back out there.” Andy’s voice was low and forlorn. “You’ll die for nothing.”
“I’ve made my decision,” said Miles. He buttoned the front of his coat. Then he pulled up his hood and fetched the first aid kit from the ticket office. “You’re both welcome to come with me, of course.”
Seth just shook his head weakly. His legs felt heavy and useless. He lowered his head, unable to meet Miles’ gaze. Shame warmed his face and burned in his throat and chest.
“Don’t go out there,” Andy muttered. “You won’t come back.”
Miles held the first aid kit under one arm and walked to the doors that led to the platform outside. He paused, looked back at Seth and Andy, and told them to take care.
But when he opened the door, he was confronted by a woman standing on the other side of the threshold. He stepped back quickly and flecks of snow followed him.
Seth and Andy rose and stared at the woman. The wind rose to a torturous keening, shaking the walls and the roof.
The woman was trembling, covered in dried splatters of blood. Seth recognised her from the crash site; she’d been the one trying to take care of the injured. Her mouth was wide open, gawping, and then she drew in a shivering breath and screamed until her legs gave out beneath her and she collapsed in the doorway.
CHAPTER SIX
“What happened, Ruby?” Miles asked her.
“All the others are dead,” she muttered, hunched over in her seat and rocking slightly. She couldn’t hold eye contact with anyone for more than a moment. The forefinger and thumb of her left hand fiddled with the small silver cross hanging from a necklace chain around her neck. Seth had cleaned her face with wet wipes from a packet he’d found in one of the abandoned holdalls on the platform. He sat beside her, but was afraid to offer anything more than comforting words.
Miles fetched a jacket from the ticket office and draped it over her juddering shoulders. She pulled the jacket around herself and then took a deep pull from the bottle of water Andy had given her. She wiped her mouth and looked at Miles, then Seth, and finally at Andy, who stood across from her in horrified silence.
“They came out of the sky,” Ruby said.
“What did?” replied Miles.
She hesitated. “Flying creatures with black wings and red eyes. Had to be half-a-dozen of them. Horribly thin and tall, shaped like an overgrown insects.” She put her hand over her mouth, muffling her words as tears filled her eyes. “Oh God. All the people died. They’re all gone. Jesus help me.”
“How did you escape?” Miles barely disguised the tremor within his voice.
Ruby shivered then let out a deep sob. “I hid in one of the train carriages – in a stinking toilet compartment – while the creatures fed. Once they were gone, I made a run for it, hoping to find you three.”
“At least someone made it out,” Andy said, before looking away and bowing his head.
“It’s OK,” Seth told Ruby, and placed a comforting hand on her upper arm.
“So, what do we do now?” Andy asked, slumping onto a chair. “Do we have a plan?”
“Considering what’s happened, maybe we should stay here tonight,” said Miles. “No point in returning to the crash site, and at least we can shelter here until morning. Any objections?”
There were none. Seth didn’t have the energy to walk to the next room, let alone the nearest town or village. He thought about his parents, and had to close his eyes against the pang of guilt.
“We need to secure this room as best we can,” Miles said. “I’ll look for some food and water while Seth and Andy barricade the doors. We might get visitors during the night.”
“Do you think a load of furniture will stop anything?” Andy asked bitterly.
“Probably not. Do you have a better plan?”
He shrugged. “No.”
“Then get it done. No time to waste.”
*
Seth and Andy pushed a low table against the door that led to the car park then piled it with chairs. At least if anything did try to gain entry during the night, the noise of it would wake them, he reflected.
The falling snow had lessened slightly, but it was impossible to see anything out in the darkness beyond the windows.
Miles had found a torch, which now served as their only source of light besides Andy’s cigarette lighter. He’d also recovered a crowbar and some musty blankets from the store room, and two chocolate bars from a rucksack in the ticket office. They shared the chocolate then settled down for the night. Ruby had passed out, lying across three seats with a blanket placed over her. She muttered in her sleep, her face wan, eyelids fluttering as she dreamed.
Seth, Miles and Andy sat beside each other on the floor with their backs against the wall, watching the door and the windows. They’d closed the curtains, but Miles kept the torchlight directed at the floor, just in case something was stalking in t
he night.
Andy offered Miles and Seth each a cigarette. Miles refused, but Seth took one after a moment’s hesitation. Andy lit it for him, and he pulled smoke into his lungs. The inside of his head swayed a little as he exhaled through his mouth with an exhausted sigh. He hadn’t smoked since his teenage years, and he coughed heavily into his hand. It soothed his anxiety though, and slowed the blood through his veins for a moment.
“Where did you find them?” Seth asked.
“Someone left them on the edge of a sink in the men’s toilets.”
“Oh, I see.”
“A lucky find.”
“Yeah, lucky us.”
“We can’t stay here,” Miles said. He sipped a small mouthful of water. The taps in the bathrooms had offered only drops.
Andy took a drag on his cigarette. “Couldn’t we wait here, in case the police arrive?”
Miles shook his head, staring at the crowbar in his hands. “I don’t think the police are coming, Andy.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“Look outside,” Miles said. “No one is going to save us. What if the snow and the creatures aren’t just a local phenomenon? What if it’s affected a greater area?”
“You think the snow and the monsters are linked?” asked Seth. He felt stupid for not making the connection earlier.
Andy tapped the tip of his cigarette into the old mug he was using as an ashtray. “How is that possible?”
Miles looked at him. “None of this should be possible. And yet here we are.”
“What the fuck caused it? A friend of mine is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. I remember him saying stuff about governments experimenting with weather control satellites. I thought it was bollocks at the time, but now…”
