The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2)

by Neil Carstairs

  “Why are you just standing there?” she asked.

  Ben stripped and joined her. She rested into his arms. He held her, unsure whether she had tears on her face or not. He found some gel and washed her, his movements soft and gentle. When he knelt to rinse the last of the soap from her legs, she lowered herself down and joined him. Her first kiss was tentative, the second less so. She rocked back, looking at him.

  “Here?” she asked.

  Ben nodded. Whatever she wanted to do he’d let her. Kramer lost the uncertainty. She became fierce, as if all the bruises and cuts were gone. When his hands dug into her waist and she cried out in pain, he relaxed his hold. Kramer shook her head. She reached and pressed his hands tighter to her flesh. She pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “I need it.”

  Somehow, on the wet surface of the tray, Ben found a position, and she joined him. The water cooled, or maybe their bodies grew hot, and Ben watched the pain get wiped from her face as she climaxed.

  Later, in bed, Kramer said, “I used to think I was tough.”

  “You are.” They lay together, Kramer on her front and Ben close enough to kiss the knuckles of her spine.

  “No. That other world almost broke me. And then the things that came through with us. We’re the only ones who escaped. Everyone else down there died.”

  “But you didn’t break,” Ben said. “You got through it. What doesn’t break you makes you stronger.”

  “Nietzsche,” Kramer said.

  “What?” Ben pushed up onto one arm.

  “Nietzsche’s exact quote is ‘that which does not kill us makes us stronger’.”

  “He’s right.”

  “I still feel like shit, though,” Kramer said.

  “I guess I didn’t do a good enough job in the shower, then.”

  Kramer rolled onto her side. The bruising on her face had begun to yellow. Ben thought it made her more attractive in a kinky kind of way. She put a finger against his chest. “I thought you did okay.”

  “It got a bit slippery,” Ben said.

  “I guess that’s why you lost your grip a couple of times.”

  “Yeah, we’re dry now, though.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “That maybe you’ll feel a lot better in a few minutes time.”

  Kramer moved closer to him. “Only a few minutes?”

  Ben rolled onto his back, drawing her onto him. “It all depends on how demanding you are.”

  Nails dug into his chest. “Now that, Scarrett, is a challenge.”

  ***

  No-one in the playground knew that Emily had company. She stood in the farthest corner, away from the other children. Some of them glanced her way. She knew what they were thinking, that the American girl was an oddball or whatever the English term was. Emily made sure none of them saw her glance at what they’d think of as her imaginary friend, except Connor was not imaginary. She didn’t talk to him, either. Lucky for her he could ‘speak’ to her in her head, and she could answer the same way back. So she stood, ramrod straight, and listened as Connor explained she would need to be brave. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t ask. But if she looked over her shoulder, the sky looked awful black, and the air temperature seemed to be dropping a degree with every passing minute.

  Emily saw Hannah on the far side of the playground. The pretend TA had monitor duty with Mr Munro again. Emily knew enough about body language from watching her mom with Pete to know that Hannah and Mr Munro were maybe more than colleagues. She smiled about that. She liked Hannah, and Mr Munro seemed nice when he’d come to her class to talk about the Tudors.

  A little to the left and there stood the twins. From a distance, their eyes seemed almost black, like empty sockets full of hate. Emily tried to avoid them whenever she could, now. If ever her mom asked how the other children were then Emily just said ‘fine’ and tried to change the subject. Her mom seemed to know that not everything was rosy at school and put it down to new girl blues. It happens to everyone when they start a new school. It takes time to make friends; the gangs will want to check you out before they admit you.

  And what if they want to kill me? How about that, Mom? Did you ever meet a pair of bullies who wanted to tear out your heart and eat it?

  Emily closed her eyes. She shivered as the wind chill knocked another notch off the thermometer. Connor no longer stood at her side. Emily crossed her fingers that he would be back soon. The storm approached, and Emily knew she would need to be brave.

  ***

  “I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Tim said, with a nod to the horizon. It looked like nightfall on the far side of the school’s playing field. The brick-built games store seemed to vanish into the gloom.

  “It might miss us.” Hannah studied the clouds without too much optimism.

  “The problem will be the children. Some will be scared by the thunder and lightning, and the ones that aren’t will want to go outside to watch it.”

  “I’ve always wondered why they call it thunder and lightning,” Hannah said. “I mean, the lightning comes first, so why not call it lightning and thunder.”

  Tim stared at her in bemusement. “Don’t ask me,” he said. “I’m a teacher.”

  She laughed, and Tim’s heart raced again. Another date in a day or two and here she was, laughing at his jokes. He didn’t often get carried away when it came to affairs of the heart, but Hannah Davis almost made him want to run around the field shouting with happiness. He checked the time and said, “Back to it.”

  “Not before time.” Hannah saw the first fat drops of rain splash down onto the playground. The kids, for once, seemed to understand that inside was a good place to be as the sky grew ever darker. Some boys teased a couple of other kids who looked scared. Tim sorted them out as the lines of children were sucked into their classrooms. Hannah saw Emily dragging her feet as she walked as slow as she could back to class.

  “Come on, Emily, hurry up.” The girl looked at Hannah, and the TA saw fear in Emily’s eyes. Hannah put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. It’s just a storm.”

  “No,” Emily shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

  The way Emily spoke made Hannah pause. They still stood outside, the air colder now and raising goosebumps on their flesh.

  “What is it?” Hannah asked.

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling.”

  “Okay. Do I need to expect anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hannah nodded. “Okay, if you know, tell me. The Watch Team are three minutes away at all times. I can hit my pager, and they’ll be here. Yes?”

  “Yes.” Emily smiled as best she could.

  “Come on, then, let’s get inside.”

  The classroom lights seemed very bright in contrast to the gloom outside. The kids talked twenty-to-the-dozen, voices raised in excitement as the first flicker of lightning leapt across the sky. The ceiling lights dimmed for a moment, the children’s decibels edging up as well. Hannah caught the eye of Mrs Lynch, and the teacher gave her a reassuring nod. With clapping hands and her own, strident voice almost shouting, Mrs Lynch brought some order to the class.

  Boom.

  Light and sound as one. The school seemed to shake and in the blink of an eye the power dropped out, plunging them into darkness. The room filled with squeals of joy and fear. Hannah pulled a couple of boys away from the window where their breath fogged the glass as more forks of lightning snaked down to touch the playing field. Mrs Lynch’s voice rose in pitch as she regained some control over the class. A white safety light flickered on above the classroom door, and Hannah saw a similar pale glow in the corridor outside the class. Mrs Lynch came over to her,

  “School procedure is for all classes to gather in the main hall during power cuts. Mrs Rideout plays the piano, and we have a good old sing-song.”

  Another flash and bang made the kids squeal. Hannah checked on Emily and said, “You lead the way, I’ll be tail-end-Charlie.”
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  Mrs Lynch gave the class their instructions. Chair and table legs scraped as the kids bustled towards the door. Their teacher slowed them with a raised hand. “We are Year Six,” she said. “We have a responsibility to show all the younger children how to behave at times like this and yes, James, that includes you. Now, follow me. Miss Davis will make sure there are no slow-coaches.”

  Hannah saw Emily safe in the middle of the line as the kids filed out of the room. She glanced out through the window. Well, not out because all she saw was utter darkness lit by the odd flash of lightning. With the children concentrating on leaving the room, Hannah dodged around a couple of tables and grabbed her shoulder bag from behind Mrs Lynch’s desk. She caught up with the last boy as he stepped into the crowded, noisy corridor.

  ***

  A sharp-nailed hand grasped Emily’s arm as she passed a short spur corridor that led to a fire exit. She had no time to resist before Lizzy pulled her out of the line of children and spun her around. Emily stumbled, just about staying on her feet and hit the emergency exit. The steel push-bar crashed into her ribs and the glass felt icy cold from the storm outside.

  Before she could recover, Vicky pressed her back into the door.

  “You know what we’re going to do?” Vicky’s hands came up, and Emily saw the sharp edge of her nails catch the latest flash of lightning.

  Lizzy appeared next to her sister. “We’re going to scratch your eyes out.”

  “Get away from me.” Emily shoved Vicky, but the girl barely moved.

  Lizzy came for her with hooked fingers that swept at Emily’s face. She caught Lizzy’s thin wrists and deflected the attack. The girl’s face came close to Emily’s, and her mouth opened.

  “Bitch.”

  Something in the way Lizzy spoke and the shadow of her eyes scared Emily. The corridor seemed separated from the world. Cold and dark behind her, sisters before her. Emily pushed. Lizzy went back a scant few inches but enough for Emily to reach behind her. She found the push-bar and gave a huge shove down. The door opened and a bone-numbing wind sucked her out of the school and into the dark. The last she saw before a curtain of rain cut her off was Lizzy’s twisted face as the emergency exit swung closed.

  The storm crashed above her head, forks of light that splashed the world in a blue-white and exposed Emily to the elements. The wind and the rain spun her around. The school building seemed to vanish, replaced by a world of violent shadows. Lightning struck the playing field and she saw a plume of earth spring up. In the after-flash, the earth remained upright, taking the shape and form of a man. Emily stared at the figure. More flashes, more figures. They sprang up from the playing field like mushrooms. Another gust of wind drove her further onto the grass, slick now with the pelting rain. Through the dark she saw a glow, a soft gold that she recognised. Her angels came to her, and at that moment Emily sensed escape.

  And then the men attacked.

  ***

  Hannah looked at the dark, crowded corridor and tried to spot Emily. Normally it would be easy. The girl’s red hair stood out like a beacon most days but here, with the milling children from three year groups and only the feeble emergency lighting to see them, every child looked the same. Hannah wanted to push the kids out of the way, or at least get them to where they were supposed to be going. She spotted the twins, hand-in-hand as they pushed other kids aside. Her gaze swept across the heads, some tall and some short.

  There.

  No, a girl from Year 5, the only other ginger-haired child in this half of the school. Hannah glanced back down the corridor. She’d been last out, sweeping up the slower children like a shepherd with his flock. Her hand unzipped her bag, just in case. Hannah urged the last few kids into the hall and told them to settle down with their year groups. Now she had a better chance to check for Emily. Her eyes ran over Year 6. No Emily. Thinking she must have missed her Hannah checked again, slower this time. Her gaze settled on the twins and for a moment Hannah’s skin went cold at the sight of the smiles the two girls held.

  No Emily.

  Hannah started back up the corridor. A door opened, and a boy came out of the toilets. He stared in shock at her as she pushed passed without an ‘excuse me’ and went into the girl’s loo. A Year 4 girl stood washing her hands and singing to herself. She jumped as Hannah crashed the door open. Hannah told her to go to the hall, now. As the girl hurried out Hannah checked the stalls. Empty.

  Back out in the corridor. Hand in the bag, her fingers curled around the pager. More thunder seemed to shake the school to its core. A cold wind swirled around her legs as if mocking her. Hannah looked down, then right. An emergency exit door swung open letting in a blast of rain that peppered the carpet tiles with dark splats of moisture.

  Hannah ran outside. Egg sized rain drops assaulted her, saturating her top and jeans in a couple of heartbeats. Lightning filled the sky, and in the staccato flashes, Hannah saw movement out on the grass. She saw a field of men, dark forbidding figures who seemed to spring into existence with every bolt of light that fell from the sky.

  Oh, Jesus.

  Her hand found the pager and she triggered the alarm before unclipping another compartment and pulling out a Sig Sauer pistol. She shoved the automatic into the waistband of her jeans. The pager came out and went into her back pocket, the GPS signal it transmitted was accurate to three metres and would guide the Watch Team to her. Next out she brought two spare clips of ammunition, and these went into the other back pocket. Hannah dropped the bag onto the grass, drew the Sig again, and ran into the storm.

  ***

  Tim Munro had a hand on the blinds for one of the hall windows when a flicker of lighting illuminated a figure running across the playing field.

  Hannah?

  Tim stared at the now dark scene. He shook his head. The blonde TA was on his mind most of the time now, even when teaching in class, and he almost laughed at the thought of her being out in this storm. He looked to where Year 6 had gathered. He saw Mrs Lynch but no Hannah. Tim’s gaze returned to the playing field. Another flash, a discordant image that revealed dancing shadows and, yes, Hannah.

  What’s she doing out there? He could only think of one reason.

  “There’s a child out there,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” Mrs Grady, the Year 4 teacher said in surprise.

  “I’ve just seen Hannah, I mean Miss Davis, running across the playing field. It must mean that one of the children has gone out there.”

  “Well, I’m sure Miss Davis can deal with...”

  “I’m going out,” Tim said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he heard Mrs Grady say as he dashed around the edge of the hall.

  He burst through the double doors and out into the playground. Rain almost blinded him, filling his eyes and soaking his clothes. He slowed to an exploratory trot, stumbling over the kerbing between asphalt and grass. His shoes slithered over the waterlogged ground.

  “Hannah! Hannah!”

  Tim called her name. He wiped water from his face and turned around. The school buildings were near invisible shapes behind the curtain of rain. It seemed as if they belonged to another world.

  “Hannah!”

  The rain lifted for a moment as the wind died. Tim thought he saw movement again and ran towards it. A man rose up before him and when the next sheet of lighting lit up the field Tim saw a face masked with soil and lined with teeth. He tried to stop and his feet slid out from under him. It saved his life. The thing missed him, teeth clashing as Tim scrambled away on all fours. He saw more of them, and they moved with intelligence towards a single target.

  More lighting. Tim saw a child, lit by a golden glow and surrounded by the earthen men.

  Then he saw Hannah.

  ***

  The first man grabbed her, his slimy hands pulling Hannah towards a gaping mouth. She shot him through the head. He collapsed. At least these things could be stopped. The storm exploded overhead once more, and she flinched as she s
aw the number of creatures moving across the field. But it also gave her a chance to spot Emily, kneeling on the grass and surrounded by dark figures. Hannah sprinted across the slick surface. Close in, she saw Emily bathed in a golden light. Hannah didn’t have time to think about that. Two monstrous shapes blocked her path. She headshot both of them before sliding to a halt beside Emily. The child stared at her, wild-eyed.

  “Are you hurt?” Hannah put her free arm around Emily and then fired into the chest of an advancing shadow.

  “No.”

  “We need to move,” Hannah said as she pulled Emily to her feet.

  But where?

  Their attackers circled them. Hannah saw their teeth glow in the flashes of lightning. She shot three more down as they crept ever closer. The rain seemed to lift for a moment and Hannah saw a single spot of floating light about twenty metres away. She stared at it, mesmerised for a moment until she realised it was an emergency light over the door to the small brick building that held all the sports equipment. She pulled Emily, “Come on.”

  They ran together, dodging the grasping hands and snapping teeth of the dirt figures. As two more lunged at them, Hannah emptied the Sig into their faces. The field cleared, a straight run to the store. Hannah glanced back and saw their pursuers gathering. She looked forward in time to see the turf erupt and more of the man-shaped figures sprang into life. Still running, Hannah ejected the empty magazine and pulled a spare from her back pocket. Ten metres separated them. She got the spare in place and chambered a round when they were three metres from the men.

  Hannah put four down, and then she and Emily hit the store door. As they turned, a lightning bolt silhouetted the advancing shapes. Emily screamed. Hannah tried the door. Locked. She turned, feeling in the near dark for a clue to where the lock was located. She found it, a big padlock and chain.