"No, he didn’t have an attack,” she said. Her voice was scarcely audible. “He was attacked. We were going to leave. There wasn’t anything else we could do – we tried to warn the other villagers, but they wouldn’t listen to us – we decided to get out while we had the chance. We were so close. But it wouldn’t let us go. We were thrown back into the past – the night of the massacre. One of those bastards hurt him. I saw the knife go into him – he was killed with the others.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “But he doesn’t have any marks – ”
“It got into our heads,” she interrupted, her voice tremulous. “It can make the past real – it can hurt us.”
“It…?”
“The creature.” A tremor ran through her as she released Adrian’s hand. “It’s still alive – in the coalmine. They’ve been keeping it prisoner; they must need it to stay alive – they feed on it like their victims. All this time, it’s been in my head - using the dead to reach out to me – in my dreams.”
“What does it…?” Rachel hesitated. “What does it want from you?”
“To help it to escape,” she answered plainly. “I’ve got no choice.”
“No,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “For God’s sake, you can’t possibly believe that’s the answer.”
Kara stood and turned to her. “I’ve got no choice,” she repeated. “It’s got Adrian. It won’t let him go unless I do what it wants.”
“If it created these men, what do you think it’s capable of doing?”
“It can’t be worse than what these men have done,” she argued. “The creature created them. It may be the only thing that can stop them.”
"You're just going to walk in there," Rachel said. "They'll be waiting for you. You won't stand a chance."
"I do have a chance," she said breathlessly. "It’s going to happen tonight. They’re going to hunt and kill everyone in the village. I’ll have my chance to get into the coalmine. It might be the only one I get.”
"You can't go in there alone,"
"The police won't believe us."
Rachel’s face tensed. "I'm coming with you," she said.
"You don't have to," Kara breathed out. "I can't stop them from entering the village. There will be more deaths. Take your husband and get out - "
Rachel cut her off. "I'm coming with you,” she said firmly. “Luke is visiting his parents - he won't be back for two days. He’s out of this."
Part of her was relieved. "Thank you," she said honestly.
"So what are we going to do first?"
Turning back to the bed, Kara bent down and kissed Adrian on the forehead. She realized it might be the last time she would see him. If they failed, he would never wake, and the village would become a tomb for the dead again. There was so much at stake. If everything could be put right, she was ready to see it through to the end. If she could bring Adrian back, she was ready to die.
"We have to be ready in case they come back,” she answered, finally. “We arm ourselves.”
There had to be others.
The creature’s existence couldn’t be unique. There had to be other aberrations of life hiding in other derelict, abandoned places which had been forgotten or lost over time - places people wouldn't even think to look, or would pass without a second glance. There might be creatures who chose to be invisible and survived as best they could, and there could be others who only came out to hunt for food. People went missing all the time – she had read of thousands going missing every day in some countries. This was the reason why these men had escaped capture – no one was looking hard enough anymore; somehow the losses had become acceptable.
Soon.
They both started as a sudden wind caught and rustled the leaves around them. Lying low in a cluster of bushes and trees, afforded a narrow view of the coalmine entrance on the opposite side of the path, they were obscured from any searching eyes – at any moment they could fall back and be completely hidden. But it didn’t feel safe. It hadn’t felt safe when they had made their way to the mine, resisting the persistent sensation of being observed as they chose their own path, keeping themselves behind the trees and bushes in case their predators came out in the daylight – a risk they had to take.
They had been waiting for some time; it was almost eleven o’clock. But she didn’t mind the wait. The longer they waited, the less chance it was likely to happen. She wanted to be wrong – for the morning to come, because if these men left the mine tonight people were going to be killed. They had called the police before they left the village, told them they had overheard a group of youths planning to burgle the shops. If the police were keeping watch, the villagers might have some defence. If not, she had to hope releasing the creature would save them – it had promised.
And there was Adrian.
“I can’t believe they’re in there,” Rachel whispered beside her, “that we’re waiting for them to come out.”
“This has to be the right thing to do,” she said, and realized she had been trying to persuade herself.
“I know,” Rachel answered. “I trust you.”
Kara looked at her apprehensively. “I shouldn’t have drawn you into this.”
“I didn’t give you a choice.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said, struggling to keep her voice low. “I can’t protect you. You should get – ”
“Stop.”
A suffocated warning – the words died in her throat; and then Rachel’s eyes swept past her. Comprehending, suppressing a shudder as she placed her hand onto the duffel bag at her side, Kara followed her line of sight.
They were leaving the mine.
Thrusting the broken gate open, slamming it against the side of the entrance, they swarmed out – hulking black shadows clustered together as they shambled through the trees like a pack of beasts driven by a ravenous hunger, labouring against a physical degeneration which might have been caused by their close confinement, or been another influence of the contamination that had corroded their features. Slouching, shoulders hunched, necks stiff and convulsing as their eyes searched their surroundings, they reeled as they propelled their unwieldy bodies on, their limbs twisted and their feet crushed the ground. But they were impelled by a bloodlust –nothing was going to deter them.
Silently, they watched as the hunters wound their way through the trees and disappeared in the direction of the village. They would be there in less than an hour.
“Now,” Kara said.
Stumbling through the undergrowth, Rachel following behind her, they hastened toward the mine. Distorted by the dark, the trees and hillside pressed in; the wind lengthened and shifted the shadows around them - she couldn’t help noticing there were too many concealed places. At the corner of her eye, a sinewy, black shape scurried speedily through the trees with them. An animal, she realized, turning to look. But the relief failed to prevent her imagination from manifesting other entities in the murkier places, silent watchers waiting for the right moment.
They exchanged glances as they arrived at the entrance of the coalmine. It was pitch black inside. Without a word, Kara rummaged inside her duffel bag and retrieved two torches. One she handed to Rachel; the other she put into her pocket so it was ready when she needed it.
“Come on,” she whispered.
Rachel grabbed her arm. “No, wait.”
Listening, steadying herself, it took a moment to hear the sounds emanating from inside the mine - first the low reverberations, dull, intermittent thumps; and then unmistakeable footfalls approaching the entrance.
“Get back,” she exhaled. But she remained where she was, heart thudding erratically in her chest as she went into her duffel bag again and pulled out a bottle with a cloth fixed securely around the mouth – a preparation she had prayed she wouldn’t need. But there was no going back. Reaching into her jacket pocket for her lighter, she ignited the flame and held it inches from the end of the cloth in readiness.
He must have realized they were there. The footfalls stopped. There was a strained silence – he might have been listening to them as they listened to him – and then suddenly he leapt out and hurtled toward them. Steadying her hands, she set fire to the cloth and threw the bottle at his chest. The glass shattered. The flames erupted and enveloped the upper part of his body. The skin on his face melted as he thrashed at the flames with his fists, and then clawed at his neck in agony. But he couldn’t scream – broken, guttural sounds tore from his throat only to be strangled.
“Come on,” Kara yelled.
They both rushed toward the entrance. Even in his distress, he knew what they were doing. Stretching out his hands, he staggered toward them – a clumsy effort that sent him stumbling to the ground. They both looked over their shoulders as they dashed past him. As the flames gnawed at his skin and flesh, his teeth bared in a grimace, he proceeded to crawl after them on his hands and knees.
He wasn’t going to stop. Shaking, Kara reached into her bag for a knife as they entered the coalmine – her shoulder struck the side of the entrance and the supporting beam shifted in its frame – dust spilled out. The knife slipped back into the bag as she understood what she had to do.
Her eyes scanned the ground and seized on a large rock half-buried in the dirt. Grasping the rock with both hands, inhaling sharply as it loosened and unexpectedly threw her back a step with its weight, she swung it against the insecure beam with all the strength she could muster – vibrating, the wood cracked down the middle, and then the overhead beam slid downwards – a slight but discernible shift, enough to disturb the structure and release a shower of rubble and dirt over her head; and the same happened as she struck the beam another time, only the dirt continued to spill after the rubble stopped. They had to do more. “Help me,” she pleaded.
Alongside her, Rachel stooped down and shouldered the beam as she smashed the rock into the side – there was a tremor and it began to buckle into the entrance as rubble slipped down past it; the overhead beam swung sideways and slid down – and then the entrance collapsed. There was an explosion of dust as rocks tumbled into the entrance - Rachel grabbed her arm and pulled her away as the disintegration spread and part of the cave roof above them broke away.
The cave-in stopped. But the dust was in the air, smothering, blinding, stinging and grazing their skin, flooding their lungs and choking their breath. It took a moment to realize the light was gone. Recovering as the dust subsided, they searched for their torches and switched them on; and their attention was drawn back to the entrance, to a muffled but unmistakeable sound not far from it - rocks sliding from their place, scraping against each other, toppling away.
"He's trying to get in," Rachel whispered.
"We have got much time," Kara said. "Come on."
“Do you know the way?”
Kara turned. There were two tunnels. As she about to answer, the familiar thoughts slipped into her consciousness, incoherent but palpable, a pressure imploding repeatedly in her head. The taste of blood was in her mouth as she threw her hand out and pointed to the first tunnel.
“It’s through there.”
Entering the tunnel, holding their torches out in front of them, they made their way through. There was no doubt in her mind that it was waiting for them - even its presence was palpable. There was no going back, but she couldn’t help thinking that maybe she had made a mistake – what if her nightmares had been a premonition of her death. What if she was wrong? If she had made a mistake –
“Rachel, I’m sorry,” she said with regret. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”
"You didn't," Rachel admonished her. "I wanted to help."
"No, it was too much to ask of you," she said. "When I closed the mine, I made the decision for both of us. I didn't have the right."
"What else could you have done?" Rachel countered.
"I just wish I hadn’t … ”
Her voice trailed away. They had come to the end of the tunnel. The narrow beams of light from their torches were restrictive – they couldn’t see everything at the same time. But what they did see made them hesitate.
It was an open grave.
The fresh corpses she had seen in the circle in her vision of the past were still there piled on top of each other along the walls. After providing whatever sustenance the murderers wanted from them, they had simply been left to decompose, waste away to bone – dislocated skeletal frames collapsing into each other, becoming entangled, trapped together. But there were other corpses in varying states of degeneration scattered over the circle – the other victims they had collected over the years. The eyes of some of them were wide open with terror, frozen at the moments of their deaths. They had been stripped naked, and there were the familiar signs of mutilation she had seen before – flesh sliced away, parts of their bodies gnawed to the bone.
“God,” Rachel exhaled, stepping back, raising her hand over her mouth.
Kara followed her gaze. It was Prior. He was slumped on his back over a cluster of rocks - arm stretched out, his neck almost severed, less than half connected to his shoulders. His eyes stared up at them with surprise. His open mouth screamed out silently.
Swallowing the burning bile that rose in her throat, she looked away. “Come on,” she said, her voice shaking as she spoke.
The acrid stench of rotting flesh stung her nostrils as Kara stepped into the circle and swept the light from her torch around her; briefly gleaming in the light, the faces of the dead seemed to change expression - and then she caught a movement near the entrance to the other tunnel. Without a word, holding the torch out in front of her, she made her way through the corpses, and looked down at the creature, a helpless thing ravaged with hunger, emaciated, fragmented skin exposing raw flesh; a helpless writhing thing bound at its arms and chest and at its knees, reaching out, pleading with the dull glimmer in its blood-red eyes. But this helpless thing had violated her dreams and tormented her with the dead – it had attacked her husband and stolen his mind.
“Are you certain this is the right thing to do?” Rachel asked. There was a catch in her voice. “Are you really going to release this thing?”
“I’ve got to,” she breathed out.
No more thoughts were allowed to deter her as she passed her torch to Rachel and dropped onto her knees beside the creature. Reaching into her bag to retrieve the knife, she averted her eyes as it twisted its head to her in spasms, refusing to acknowledge its presence until she was ready – until she could steady and clench her trembling hand enough to grasp the knife.
“You don’t have to,” Rachel insisted.
She couldn’t speak. Tugging at the rope around its knees, raising it from the creature’s skin, she leaned down and worked fast at the threads with the serrated edges of the knife, pressing the metal hard against them to speed up the task, resisting the urge to shrink back as her skin brushed against the creature’s. The bind snapped apart and loosened. Unwinding and pulling the rope away, she guided the knife to the other restraint around its chest and arms, narrowing her eyes as the creature went on staring at her, writhing sluggishly against its confinement.
A faint light seeped into the walls as she worked at the rope with an increasing revulsion – her hand shook and lost strength once more; the knife sliced into her hand as she persevered - and then the threads started to break. As the rope split, she dropped the knife and scrambled back on her hands and knees, waited for the creature to react to its release. Quaking with the effort, the creature lifted its arms, arched its back into the air, and slumped onto the ground, shivering, feebler than before.
"Listen," Rachel hissed at her.
The entrance had been opened. Reverberating throughout the tunnel, entering the circle and rebounding off the walls, hollow footsteps progressed toward them, inexplicably keeping at a calm, measured pace; and in the footsteps, other lighter sounds, a heavy scrabbling, feet being dragged across the grou
nd.
There were two of them.
“Rachel, you’ve got to get into the other tunnel,” she ordered hoarsely, crawling back to the creature, examining its writhing form for a clue. There had to be something she was missing. “What is it?” she said under her breath. “What is it?”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Go,” she yelled.
“No,” Rachel shouted back. “If you’re staying, I’m staying.”
Her chest tightened as she noticed the outlines of the corpses in the circle emerging with the approaching light. They were running out of time. “You’re going to die if you stay,” she said, searching the creature’s eyes for any change. “Get out of – ”
Startled by a realization, the words choked in her throat. She glanced up at Rachel, and then began to take off her jacket.
“What are you doing?” Rachel said, shaking her head.
“Blood,” she answered. Her voice was breathless. “These men fed on the creature’s blood – drained it of its strength. They assimilated aspects of the creature – its cannibalistic bloodlust – self-created mutations.” Throwing her jacket aside, she snatched up the knife and crawled closer to the creature. “It needs blood,” she went on. “It needs to feed.”
Raising her arm over the creature’s open mouth, clenching her fist in readiness, she pierced her skin with the knife, wincing as she pushed deeper to open the wound. Blood welled to the surface and spilled onto the creature’s face; unable to stop her arm from shaking, she pressed the wound against its open lips – and restrained herself from pulling back as the veins twisted in its eyes and the muscles in its throat twitched – and again as its mouth opened and fastened onto the wound, drew hungrily on the blood.
"Take it," she spat out. "Take what you need. But we made a deal. You keep your promise. Do you understand? Do you - "
Kara flinched as the creature's teeth sank into her flesh – an excruciating pain seized at the muscles in her arm and paralysed them; burning her blood, the pain coursed to other parts of her body. Nausea flooded through her – it was too much. Drained of her strength, she realized she couldn’t pull free.
The Devil's Dead and More Tales Page 7
