“What?”
“Open the door.”
“Seriously, what is wrong with you?”
“Okay, you tell me how we’re going to get out, smart arse.”
“Having that thing coming in here is mental.”
“It wouldn’t be in here,” Wren replied. “What we do is un-wedge the barricade. We have the two benches with the locker on top, but edge it back, just a little so we can open the door just a crack for us to get a javelin through at the right angle.”
Robyn thought for a moment and looked at the barricade. “Actually, that’s a little less dumb than it originally sounded.”
“Careful sis, you don’t want me getting all big headed.”
Robyn and Wren walked to the end of the barricade, squeezed out the bundled-up magazines that were wedging the end locker in place, then dismantled the rest of the structure until it was just the two benches with the locker on top. As a trial, they tried pulling the barricade out of the way, but they could not move the heavy construction a single centimetre. Robyn smiled at Wren. “This should work.”
“What are you doing?” Kayleigh asked, finally rousing from her self-imposed isolation.
“Getting us out of here,” Wren replied.
“Erm, is it just me or is there still banging on the door? Doesn’t that mean they’re still out there?”
“There’s one of them still out there, and we can’t get at it through the hole,” Robyn said.
“How come?”
“We just can’t. So, we’re going to open the door a crack, then we’ll be able to reach it,” Robyn said as she and Wren carefully lifted down the tall metal locker from the top of the benches.
Kayleigh just watched as the two sisters moved the benches back one at a time, no more than ten centimetres, before placing the heavy locker back on top. “Okay, here we go,” Wren said, walking back up to the door. She could still see the agitated movement of the beast through the hole; she could still hear the guttural growls and the incessant banging on the door, but that would soon come to an end.
Wren stood at an angle to the door while Robyn got ready to open it for her.
“Say when,” Robyn said.
“When.”
The door opened to the full width allowed by the barricade, and suddenly, the giant creature that had once been Thomas Jack lunged with its left arm fully outstretched. Wren brought the javelin up as fast as she could, but it was deflected by the beast’s massive forearm. There was an ear shattering screech as the metal legs of the heavy benches dragged across the tiled floor and the door was forced inwards. Wren jumped back to avoid the monstrous hand, and the end of her javelin hit the wall, knocking it out of her hands. She stumbled back further, colliding with lockers as she frantically tried to regain her footing.
Robyn floundered too, as the whole barricade began to shift and the door opened wider and wider. What started as an arm became a shoulder, then half a chest, then a mouth full of gnashing teeth. The huge beast pushed and writhed, forcing the barricade to shriek across the tiled floor.
“Dad!” Kayleigh said taking a step towards the creature while Robyn and Wren were retreating. “Dad!” she said again, but the beast was completely oblivious to her calls.
“Where’s your javelin?!” Wren cried.
Robyn looked around, suddenly realising she had left it at the other side of the door, beyond the shifted barricade. “Oh shit,” she said.
Wren followed her sister’s eyes just as the benches made one final, deafening, metallic squeal, and the giant figure burst into the room. Without pause it ran towards Kayleigh who just stood there, calling out “Dad, Dad,” over and over.
The beast wrapped its mouth around her neck. There was no retaliation, only resignation, as another stream in a long flood of tears appeared in her eyes. A sound beyond a scream came from the back of Kayleigh’s throat. It was a howl, a howl of desperation, a howl of sadness; almost as if she was shouting to the gods, Why? But it ended a moment later as Kayleigh’s body flopped to the floor, leaving the creature standing there with a chunk of bloody flesh dripping from its mouth.
The two sisters looked on in stunned horror, but Wren quickly realised if they did not want to end up the same, she would need to act. She ran towards the monster, and as it clumsily reached out for her, she swerved and ducked low. What she lacked compared to the beast’s physical strength, she made up for in agility, and as she dived across the floor, grasping her hand around the base of the javelin, the creature attempted to regain its balance. It was only a split second, but it was all Wren needed to get to her feet. The hideous giant lurched towards her again. She backed up out the door, climbing over the small hill of the dead that she and Robyn had created.
The Thomas-creature continued after her, stumbling again as it made its way over the bodies of its fallen brethren. Its arms remained outstretched as if to compel its prey to submit. Wren placed her feet apart as the beast reached level ground and made to charge towards her. She took a deep breath and tightened her hands around the javelin. She’d done this many times before but never with a creature of this size. She felt her palms perspiring, and as the beast came closer, she shut out the sound of everything but her own breathing. If nothing else, her actions meant that her sister would be able to close the locker room door. It would give her a little more time to figure out another way.
Wren brought her weapon up just as the creature made its final lunge. It rose even higher off the ground, and Wren’s weapon pierced the beast’s thick neck. The beast did not fall; it continued towards her, and she could feel the tissue and cartilage parting as it propelled itself forward. She stood her ground, but she knew it was in vain. She had missed her opportunity; she had missed the chance for a headshot and now she would soon be in the giant’s clutches. She let out a small whimper as she felt the sleeve of the beast’s coat brush over one of her hands as it flailed. She looked into its eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. She did not want that to be the last sight she would take to her grave.
Wren looked away, finally giving in to the inescapable. She focussed on a poster; it was of a young girl with a bow, aiming towards a target. The banner read, Anderson’s Archery, bringing families together. At least it was something at least it was not those hellish grey windows that bored holes into her very soul. Finally, she clenched her eyes shut and waited for the end.
chapter 7
It was more of a roar than a scream that made Wren’s eyes jolt open. To say it happened in the blink of an eye was not strictly true, but as Wren blinked her eyes open, she saw the eruption of a sharp metal object from the beast’s right eye socket. The struggling stopped instantly and the colossus fell forward. Wren instinctively jumped back to avoid getting crushed, and as the frame of the massive creature fell, she saw her sister, standing behind it, the javelin still in her hands, the fierce, warrior-like expression still emblazoned on her face.
They both watched as the monster toppled. Wren’s Javelin, which was already more than halfway through the creature’s neck, hit the floor hard and popped out of the other end like it was attached to a small rocket. It landed on the ground, covered in gory residue.
Despite the stomach-churning image, they could not peel their eyes away, much less move from the spot. After a minute, the reality began to sink in. “You saved me,” Wren said.
“Thought it was about time to return the favour.”
The sisters rushed towards each other, Robyn dropped her javelin onto the ground and they hugged tightly.
“I thought I was going to die,” Wren said eventually.
“Don’t think about it. We made it.”
“We did, but I don’t know what we’re going to tell Isabel.”
“Oh god…I’d not even thought. Oh god, Wren! How do we tell her that her family’s gone? I mean, Jesus! I stuck this thing into her daughter’s eye before I came out here,” Robyn said, looking at the end of the weapon, “How the hell can I look her in the face?”
Wren finally let go of her sister. “I’m not touching that javelin again.”
Robyn looked down at it, “I can’t say I blame you.”
“I’ll need to find something to fight with, though, just in case.”
“Okay, but hurry up. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get back home. It will be getting dark soon.”
Wren looked everywhere, but there was nothing that she felt comfortable with. Eventually she picked up a quiver of arrows and put them over her shoulder. “Well, if it comes to it, I guess I’ll have to get up close and personal.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ll stab them through the eye with one of these.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Robyn replied. She picked up one of the more expensive looking bows, handed the javelin to Wren, and grabbed another two quivers, placing them over her shoulder. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”
They took one last look around and headed out into the late afternoon sun. They jogged down the windy lane that lead to the road, and as they reached the junction, they slowed and split up, one clinging to the hedge on the left, one doing the same with the right. They carefully peeked out to make sure the coast was clear. Wren nodded at Robyn, and she did the same. They stepped out onto the road and as soon as they were around the first bend, even though the journey had just begun, they felt a wave of relief flood over them.
“So, what are we going to say to her? We have like...until the end of this journey to tell her that her husband, her son, and her daughter are all dead,” Wren said, casting a look behind, just to make sure nothing was following them.
“I really don’t know…I suppose we’ll just have to tell her what happened. There’s not really a way to make it sound good.”
The two sisters carried on for a while without talking. They were lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the horror that had unfolded. Thinking about the horror that seemed to engulf them whenever they ventured out now. The sun gradually got lower in the sky, and by time they reached the turn for their own house it was almost dusk. The temptation to go straight home was overwhelming, but they carried on.
The moment they stepped into the farmyard, the hairs on the back of their necks and arms stood up. The farmhouse door was wide open and there was a dark red stain on the white stone chips in the yard. Wren’s fists clenched around the javelin and Robyn withdrew an arrow from one of the quivers, readying the bowstring against the nock. She knew she was by no means an expert, but it was an improvement on Wren’s idea of using the arrows as a stabbing instrument.
They walked towards the doorway side by side, their feet moving in unison, all the time scanning their surroundings. Wren placed her hand on Robyn’s arm. “Wait here. Cover the door,” she whispered as she made the last few feet of the journey by herself. She waited a moment, angling her head into the kitchen before pulling back out. She tapped on the door frame three times with the javelin and jumped back. When nothing came out, she did it again.
She turned around in a circle, looking for any sign of movement, or any sign of Isabel, but there was none.
“Where are the dogs?” Robyn asked.
“I don’t know, but the dogs will be safe. Those things only seem to attack humans. It’s Isabel I’m worried about.”
Robyn walked over to the doorway. “I don’t think we need to worry about telling Isabel what happened anymore, Wren,” she said looking down at the red patch on the stones.
“I can’t believe it. The whole family, all in one day. It’s horrible.”
“Well it is, and it isn’t.”
“How can you say something like that?”
“What I mean is, they didn’t suffer long without one another. Isabel never had to find out that her family died horribly. Her family never had to mourn their mother. They all went together,” Robyn said quietly. “I mean, it’s sad, very, very sad, but it could have been worse.”
“I suppose you’re right. The news alone could have killed Isabel. Where do you think it came from?”
“What?”
“Whatever did this.”
“My guess, when Thomas used the shotgun, anything in earshot would have started heading towards it. When there were no more shots, they would have just kept going.”
“Poor Isabel. So, what now?”
Robyn looked towards the vanishing sun. “We go home. We’ll come back here tomorrow, pick up supplies, and figure out what next.”
Wren closed the farmhouse door, and the two sisters began their journey home. When they walked up the track to their cottage in its picturesque setting and closed the large metal farm gate behind them, the place suddenly seemed a little less secure than it had been when they’d left that morning. They felt as if they were being watched from the darkness of the woods. It was just a feeling, but they both realised that they could never feel the same about this place again, or maybe about any place, ever again. In the space of a single day, everything had changed.
When they got through the doors, it was almost as if the girls had spoken telepathically. The first thing they did was go into every room and close the curtains. With the last remaining sliver of sun, they could make out shadows and shapes in the house. They took out a water bottle from the fridge. They each had a drink before picking at a bar of chocolate. Their bellies were empty and they were hungry, but they both felt the same thing. They did not want to start a fire. They did not want to put a light on. They felt a pervasive unease, something they could not put their finger on.
“I’m going to bed,” Robyn said.
“Can…”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
“Can I sleep in your bed? Head to toe like we did when we were younger.”
Robyn did not hesitate, “Course you can. If you hadn’t asked, I would probably have suggested it.”
The girls got ready for bed and climbed in. They did not sleep head to toe, but instead, Robyn draped her arm over Wren like they had when they were children, and they both lay there, staring into the darkness, reliving the horrors that had befallen them that day, eventually drifting off to sleep.
Wren woke with a start. Her eyes sprang open and adjusted to the darkness. The moon had risen in the sky, casting light through the gaps in the curtains. She put her head under the cover and pressed the light button on her watch. It was two a.m. She could feel her sister beside her, although Robyn had turned the other way now. Her breathing was heavy, and she was in a deep sleep, unaffected by whatever had dragged Wren out of her state of deep slumber.
Wren remained still, listening. What was it that had awakened her? Then she heard a sound. It was...scratching. She climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her sister, and picked up the torch from her bedside cabinet. Wren walked into the hallway and paused, holding her breath, and listened again. It was louder now. What was it? It sounded like…“Oh god no!”
Her mind flashed back to three years before. The council had been doing roadworks in the cul-de-sac where they lived, and one night when they had finished, one of the men had forgotten to put the cover back on the manhole. For several weeks after, the street had been plagued by an infestation of rats. One had got into their loft, and every night there was this frantic, incessant scratching. Many times, Wren would turn on her light and look at the ceiling expecting some huge black rodent with glowing red eyes to be staring back at her. Her dad laid traps, he put down poison, but to no avail. Each night it was the same thing until he finally gave into her mum’s demands, and he brought pest control in. The problem was resolved within a week, but that episode gave Wren nightmares for some time after that.
It did not help when she had asked the man from the pest control company how the rat had got into the house in the first place. He hypothesised that it had run up the drainpipe and crawled under the eaves. He went on to tell her how rats had an amazing ability to climb vertically, to squeeze through the smallest of gaps, to make excep
tionally long jumps, gnaw through wood, plastic, wiring...they were like these super intelligent creatures that were really hard to kill, and they carried all kinds of disease. Wren did not have a phobia about them until that conversation, but now—just the thought of them made her shiver.
She edged along the hallway, listening to the same scratching sound she had heard in her bedroom back at home. As it got louder, she realised it wasn’t in the loft, but in the cavity. Wren moved closer to the wall and put her ear up to it. Yes, it was definitely in the cavity. She crouched down, got onto her knees, and began to crawl along the hallway. Wren stopped where the scratching was at its loudest, rapping her knuckles against the wall in the hope that it would scare the rodent away. The scratching stopped momentarily, but then began again, louder than before. She hit the wall harder two more times and the scratching sound halted once more, before starting again. This time it was louder and more desperate than ever. She flicked on her torch and looked at the spot it was coming from. Her heart began to race, as she became convinced that any second a big black rodent head was going to force its way through the wall.
“What the hell are you doing?” Robyn demanded.
Wren looked towards the doorway of the bedroom to see her sister’s silhouette standing there. “We’ve got a rat problem.”
“What?”
“Listen.”
Robyn went to join her sister and the two of them knelt down, listening to the fevered burrowing from the other side of the plasterboard. Suddenly, the thick wallpaper began to bulge slightly.
“Oh my god!” screamed Robyn as the wallpaper moved even more. The torch light shone down towards it and Wren became paralysed with fear. The thick wallpaper finally tore, but it was not a rat’s head that came through, it was the same fat, grey fingers that that had tried to reach for Wren through the hole in the locker room door earlier that day. Here they were now in her own home, pushing through the wall with fragments of plasterboard and wallpaper tearing around them. Slowly the fingers became an entire hand, invading the darkness and the sanctity of their home.
The End of Everything Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3] Page 25
