“Richard?” his wife crept to the door, he heard her moan when she saw the carnage.
Stanton stepped between the pools of blood and dragged the industrialist’s wife through to join his wife. “Look after her,” he said. “And lock the door behind me.”
“Where are you going?” she wailed.
“To see if the Prime Minister is safe.”
“But there are...”
“Quiet!” he snapped. “Lock the door behind me.”
He didn’t think she would, but finally, he heard the tumblers fall as she turned the key. Alone, he smiled. Think tactically. And pray that thing knows you deliberately jogged Reuben’s arm so he missed.
***
The quadrangle seemed to be a place of safety now. Two ranks of Viking warriors lined the gateway and others were climbing onto the high wall that bordered the area to take guard there. Standing in the centre, with more Vikings close by, the Prime Minister listened as McGrath gave her an abbreviated version of his story. She shook her head in disbelief, “And you?” she said to Hannah.
“Security services.” Hannah sat on the ground at the P.M.’s feet.
“You work for Douglas Congrave?” the P.M. asked.
“Yes, or at least worked for him. He went missing from his hotel in London, and our prime suspect appeared here. Her picture was taken by security cameras and facial recognition software triggered an alert.”
“And this was the woman I was talking with?”
“Morrigan.” Hannah didn’t want to talk. She wanted to lie down for a month and sleep.
“And Emily?” the Prime Minister asked. “You think the twins that John saw are girls from your school?”
“Yes, they are. They’re evil.”
“I know I’ve been briefed on many of the things your department deals with,” the P.M. said to Hannah and Emily. “But I’ve never taken it in. It’s not that I don’t believe it, it’s more that the information I hear is unbelievable.”
“A week ago, I would have agreed with you,” McGrath said. “But then I met a man who had been dead for six months.”
They all looked up as muted gunfire came from inside Chequers.
“Reuben,” Hannah said and struggled to her feet.
McGrath said, “Should we move?”
“No,” Hannah said. “This is a decent place to defend.”
“It was,” McGrath said as he saw a tall figure appear in the entrance to the house.
Hannah stepped in front of the Prime Minister, bringing her gun up to aim at the beast. The Vikings moved first, running to meet it as it came out into the daylight. The warrior’s howls were matched by an earth-trembling roar. Beast and warriors met in a clash of swords and claws. Hannah saw two Vikings go down before the first blade struck and opened a wound that bled smoke. More Vikings died, and the beast broke through their ranks, its face twisted in pain and hate. Hannah pushed all thought of pain out of her head and steadied herself.
The creature ran onto her rounds, the fifth and sixth smashing its jaw. It stumbled and fell as blades swept its legs out from under it. Once down it would never get up as the remaining warriors hacked and slashed until they separated the head from the body. When Hannah turned, she saw McGrath holding Emily close to him. The P.M.’s pale face told a story, but she seemed to be made of stern stuff. At least she hadn’t puked.
“Is that the last one?” the Prime Minister asked.
“I hope so,” Hannah said. What she didn’t want to think about was the beast being outside. That meant it had got passed Reuben. She closed her eyes and said a prayer.
She only opened them when she heard McGrath say, “Oh, God.”
Another seven-foot-tall beast came through the door. Wispy threads of smoky vapour drifted from wounds in its chest. This time it wasn’t just the Vikings who ran to face it. Now Hannah saw Emily’s angels again. The beast screamed, driven back against the building. Its claws lashed, cutting down attackers but failing to stop all of them as a sword stroke opened its abdomen and another took its arm off at the elbow. Rage gave it strength. It burst through the ring of warriors and angels and came at a sprint that covered ground faster that Hannah could think possible. Her gun came up, and the muzzle buried itself into iron-hard muscles as the beast drove into her. She pulled the trigger as she fell, muffled blasts kicking back into her hands as jaws snapped at her face. Then the demon was passed her, its lone razor tipped hand raising to slash at the Prime Minister.
McGrath dived into the P.M., and the two of them tumbled to the ground as the beast’s claws cut through air. It screamed again in rage and anguish, twisting to reach the Prime Minister before a Viking sword slashed and another hand fell to the ground. The beast stared at its stumps, smoke and ash poured from the wounds. It looked skyward, as if to seek escape, and exposed its throat to a blade that took head from body.
McGrath stood, helping the P.M. up, brushing dust and gravel from her clothing as he apologised for pushing her to the ground.
“No need to apologise. You saved my life,” the P.M. said, and then to Hannah. “You both did.”
Hannah shrugged. Maybe two months sleep would be better. Emily came and held her hand.
“Are you okay?” the girl asked.
“No. I think I need a doctor.”
“Don’t die,” Emily whispered.
Hannah would have laughed it if didn’t hurt so much. “I just need some painkillers and a rest.”
A voice made her turn. Sir Richard Stanton came out of Chequers, staring around at the warriors who lined the quadrangle. He came up to them and said, “Are those creatures dead?”
“Yes,” the Prime Minister said. “Are there anymore inside?”
“All gone,” Stanton said.
“And Reuben?” Hannah asked.
“I’m sorry. He died protecting my wife and me.”
Emily squeezed her hand. Hannah knelt and gave the girl a hug. There seemed to be a moment when they were the only people in the world.
Until they heard the screaming.
***
“Run,” Lizzie shouted.
Somehow, Vicky did as her sister said, following Lizzie along the driveway as the land opened up around them. There were only five wolves now. Their guardians and three others. The rest had died fighting through the Vikings. But now fear made them run. They sensed the world changing. And their mother changing with it. They tasted her anger, real anger that burned with a darkness that scared them and they heard her calling to them.
“Stop,” Lizzie said. The wolves gathered close, tongues lolling as they panted after the hard run from the field.
The big house lay at the centre of a swarm. Men with guns were running and shooting. Most of them seemed to be dying as well. They had no idea how to fight the strange, mythical creatures that stepped from one world to another. The girls moved again, Lizzie leading in a wide arc that would take them away from the house but aim to bring them around to the gardens on the far side.
But they were children and couldn’t run as far or as fast as an adult. They grew tired, alternating running with walking, hot breath scorching their throats. A man shouted at them. They saw him running across towards them, waving like a mad thing. When he got close, they realised he was a policeman and carried a gun that he aimed into the air and fired. Vicky knew he was trying to scare the wolves. Silly man. Vicky waited until he came close and could see the wrinkles on his face. Her mother’s rage came to Vicky. She pointed at the policeman and fired a thought as sharp as a lance into him. The cop double over as if he had run into a metal spike. Blood blossomed from his back, bursting through the body armour he wore as if it didn’t exist. His face came up, mouth open in shock. Vicky laughed and swatted him to the ground like a fly. He didn’t rise.
Lizzie waited for her. “How did you do that?”
“She’s so angry it fed me.”
“I want to do it,” Lizzie said.
Vicky looked around but couldn’t see anyone close enoug
h. Then she saw a group of figures running along the side of the house, heading for the gardens just like her and Lizzie.
“It’s them,” she said. “The ones we’ve been following.”
“I want to kill one.” Lizzie started after them.
“Wait,” Vicky shouted as she ran after her sister. “We need to find mother first. She will tell us what to do.”
Lizzie nodded. “Okay.”
“She’s waiting for us,” Vicky said.
The girls started out again, this time knowing where they were going.
***
“Stop the car,” Congrave said as soon as he and Ben were out of sight of Kramer.
Ben did as requested before asking, “Why?”
“I’ll drive, you may need to get out quickly.”
Ben hopped out of the Range Rover and hobbled around to the passenger side as Congrave changed seats. The Englishman had a smell about him, part unwashed body and part woodland. Ben guessed the poor guy would be stuck like this forever.
In the vehicle again, Ben watched Congrave drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The car seemed to be an oasis of calm with all the shit happening outside. Ben wondered why the creatures didn’t attack. “They’re not attacking us,” he said when something that looked like a cross between a lion and a hawk stalked passed.
“That’s because I’m in here,” Congrave said.
“Really?” Ben sounded impressed. “I must remember to stick close to you from now on.”
Somewhere in the leaves, Congrave smiled. “They know I’m connected to Morrigan. If I’m harmed, they risk her wrath.”
“And they can sense that?” Ben asked.
“Of course.”
Ben thought about it. Maybe his first idea wasn’t so good. “So if they can sense you I guess she can as well?”
“Yes.” Congrave put the car in gear. They eased forward, bouncing up onto the grass and heading diagonally away from the manor house.
“And this sensing thing,” Ben said. “It’s two-way, right?”
“Correct.” Congrave looked at Ben. “I feel her, and she feels me.”
“And does this ‘feeling’ let you know where each other are?”
“It does.”
“And so I take it we are heading straight for her?”
“Sound reasoning,” Congrave said.
“So why didn’t you tell Kramer? She and Geordie could have come with us. The extra firepower would have helped.”
“Because it’s better if she’s not here,” Congrave said.
The Range Rover bumped and rattled across the uneven surface. Ben stayed silent until the car neared a copse. “And what about me? I’d say it’s better if I’m not here as well.”
“I’m going to need your help,” Congrave said. He drove the car parallel to the group of trees, peering into the vegetation in search of something or someone.
Ben sighed, “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Congrave pulled away from the trees. Ben twisted in his seat to look back at it. “So she’s not in those trees?”
“She is,” Congrave said. “I just want her to think she has more power than me. She’ll follow us now.”
“And when she comes out we nail her?”
Congrave laughed. “You expect her to step out into the open? She’s a goddess, Ben. She can change the world around her. She took me from a hotel bedroom into another world simply by willing it.”
“So where’s she going to appear?” Ben asked, facing forward again.
“Behind you,” a woman’s voice said.
***
Kramer lay in a thorny bush and wondered for about the millionth time in the last few weeks about her career choice. Beside her, Geordie gave her one of his annoying smiles and said,
“I bet you’re sick of me cuddling up to you.”
“Rather you than those monstrous things heading our way.”
The monstrous things stalked across the grounds of Chequers. The rent in the sky they had spilled from had sealed up and now Kramer lost count of them as they advanced towards the building. Sprites, goblins and sand wraiths were the easy ones to identify. The rest seemed to be a half-breed mix of men and animals, plus some big mothers with the legs of goats and eyes the colour of piss. The creatures entered the Italian garden where Kramer and Geordie had taken refuge.
“So what would your boyfriend think of that? You cuddling up to me?” Geordie asked, his voice soft.
“I think if he was here, he’d join us.”
Geordie pulled a face. “Funny habits you Yanks have got,” he muttered.
“We learned it all from the British,” Kramer said.
Geordie pointed to their right, where a sand wraith drifted through a shrub with a hiss of disturbed vegetation. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.
“Only if it involves running away and hiding inside the house,” Kramer said.
“Pretty much.”
Kramer considered their options and running did seem to be the only one to make sense.
”You think inside is safer than out?” Geordie asked.
“Right now? Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
Thorns stabbed into the palm of her hands as Kramer pushed herself up. She ignored them, like all the other aches and pains, and followed Geordie over borders and pathways, up a set of brick steps and into the house. They used the window to get in that Morrigan had used to get out, and the first thing they saw were the bodies.
Geordie kicked an arm of one of the demons. “At least we know they can die.”
Kramer had kept her eyes on the window. “They saw us come through this way,” she said. “I say we get out of this room.”
Geordie did so with care. Anything could be lurking behind the next door or around the next corner. He and Kramer worked their way through the building in stages; one advanced while the other covered. Kramer had no idea where they were until they entered a kitchen.
“We’re lost,” Geordie said, as he grabbed a muffin off a plate.
“Took a left turn when it should have been right.” Kramer eyed the cakes and decided against one. Geordie had her share as they listened to screams coming from the upper floor.
“That’ll be the staff,” Geordie said. “I wondered where they all were.”
“We should try and help them,” Kramer said.
“With these popguns?” Geordie held up his pistol. “Maybe if we had serious fire power I’d think about it, but since your boyfriend persuaded us to dump our rifles, I’d say we are well and truly fucked.”
Kramer didn’t disagree. “So we stay here until they find us or try to get out.”
“Out,” Geordie sprayed a mouthful of crumbs onto the floor. “If Hannah and the others are still where we left them, then they’ll need us.”
“So let’s go.” Kramer led the way out of the kitchen.
They saw a sprite ahead of them. Kramer shot it without a thought. “Run!” she shouted.
They ran, and somehow Kramer thought they might make it out unscathed until they turned a corner and she ran headlong into a two-headed man. She bounced off him as he swung an axe. The blade whistled passed her face as she fell. Geordie shot the thing twice, once in each head, and grabbed Kramer’s arm to pull her up.
They were in a corridor littered with bodies. And one they knew. Kramer felt her stomach turn over as she looked down on Reuben. Some creature had torn him apart. Tears blurred her vision.
“We should move on,” Geordie said.
Too late.
Kramer’s vision filled with a swirling mass of bodies. Sprites and goblins rushed them, pressed together in a solid mass by the confines of the corridor. Kramer fired on instinct. At this range she couldn’t miss. The dying tripped the living as the creatures fought to reach them. Kramer reloaded…retreated…stumbled on Reuben…saw Geordie gun down more goblins…and then as his gun emptied, she opened up on two sprites that leapt at her with hate in their ey
es. She blasted them down, killed a goblin that followed them and then Geordie opened fire again and the corridor became a screaming hell of smoke and blood and bodies.
And then they were gone. The survivors scuttled away while Kramer stared after them and her lungs fought for air.
“That was close,” Geordie said, pushing a sprite away where it had slumped dead against his legs.
“Yeah.” Kramer took a breath and tried to banish the thought that they were all going to die in this Tudor manor house.
They heard a metallic snap and the rattle of a handle. Kramer and Geordie’s guns were aimed at the door as it opened. Anita Stanton stared in horror at the weapons.
“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.” She waved her hands as if they were white flags and fell back into the room. Kramer followed her and found she wasn’t alone.
“Are either of you hurt?”
“No, but Helen’s husband was killed by one of those monsters.”
“Outside this room?” Kramer asked as Geordie kept watch.
“Yes.”
“Look,” Kramer said. “You can either come with us or lock the door again.”
“We’re coming with you,” Anita Stanton said without hesitation.
“Okay, just do what we say.”
Kramer led the two women out into the corridor. She hadn’t thought much beyond getting them to a place of safety. It didn’t even occur to her that Helen’s husband still lay dead on the carpet. Helen screamed at the sight of the body. Her husband had been opened up like a corpse on a mortuary table and the damp meat smell of the body made Helen gag. Anita grabbed her arm and pulled her away, trying to comfort her as best she could as Geordie and Kramer looked towards another, more ominous sound.
Windows shattered. Helen fell silent. They heard thumping stone footsteps and the grinding snap of a door forced from its hinges.
“I didn’t think they’d fit inside this place,” Geordie said.
“Who?” Anita’s voice quavered behind them.
“Some old friends of ours,” Kramer told her. “How do we get to the front entrance from here?”
“It’s not far,” Anita said, as they heard a crash of furniture being overturned.
The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2) Page 32
