Damned

by Lynda O'Rourke

  Feeling confused, I asked, “Let what happen… what are you talking about?”

  “Watch and learn, Ben,” growled Quint, taking a step in the direction of where the voice had called out from.

  The creaking of the Cleaners’ aprons could still be heard. I peered over my shoulder, expecting to see them looming from the fog. But they weren’t there. Turning back, I could just make out the dark shape of a figure emerging through the fog. Inspector Cropper appeared, his bulbous eyes almost popping from their sockets.

  Seeming relieved to see me, whether because he was scared inside the fog or be it that he was worried I would get to his precious prize before him, he forced a smile and said, “Bloody fog… I swear this shitty weather has been following me ever since I left Strangers Hill.” He wrapped his arms about his chest and shuddered. “Can’t say I’ve seen fog quite like it before.”

  I raised my eyebrows and wondered where the fuck Cropper had been all these years. The fog had always been in or around Cruor Pharma. Had this dickhead kept his eyes shut to his surroundings each time he had visited Doctor Middleton?

  Feeling that Quint had given me free movement of my arms, I placed my hands into my pockets and glared, “Fog is fog… isn’t it, Inspector?”

  Sensing my agitation, Cropper let his arms swing down beside him and puffed out his chest. Returning my glare, he said, “Maybe you’re right, Doctor Fletcher… but that’s not always the case with people. What you see isn’t always what you get.”

  I stepped forward until our faces were just inches apart and continued to glare at Cropper. “A bit like you parading around in that uniform. You expect a certain service from someone dressed like that but at the end of the day, that’s not what you always get.”

  With a forced smile stretched across his square jaw, he towered over me and said, “I think Doctor Middleton is more than happy with the service I’ve provided him and will continue to provide him.”

  “You’re more twisted and corrupt than all the criminals from Holly Tree put together,” I snapped. I went to turn away from him but Quint had me stuck firmly to the spot. As I closed my mouth, my lips parted again and I found myself now talking from Quint.

  “Even the very bowels of hell won’t be punishment enough for someone like you, Cropper,” spat Quint. “No, I think your place is here, inside the fog…”

  Before Quint could continue, the sound of metal clanging and crashing could be heard from somewhere within the fog. Something or someone was attacking the gates of Langstone’s property. I felt Quint stir within me – felt his emotions seep through me – a rush of excitement had my heart racing as through the fog, a female voice cried out.

  “You’re not getting me today!”

  It was Kassidy. I turned in the direction I believed the voice to be shouting from but as I pictured Kassidy in my head her image was replaced by the young blonde lady Quint had earlier shown me. I heard Quint whisper, “Etta.”

  With the use of my legs still controlled by Quint, I found myself walking slowly through the fog. The clanging of the gates rang out, and as we got nearer, the creaking of the Cleaners became louder. Yet the fog made it impossible to locate where Kassidy was. It seemed that every turn we made just led us into more of the Cleaners’ thick, dark haze. I could feel Quint’s frustration and my own annoyance of not being able to get to Kassidy. It seemed impossible to break through the Cleaners’ domain. I looked at Cropper, who followed beside me. He had switched on his torch and was shining the beam in every direction, desperate to get to Kassidy before us.

  Turning to look at me, he said, “I think I can take it from here, Fletcher. This is police work and I have the authority to carry out my duties. Step away and let me do the job.” His eyes sparkled as he believed he was so close to gaining what he had come all this way for.

  Before even I or Quint could reply, a rush of dark shadows flitted past us. It was the Cleaners. In their rush to move, the fog threw up thick plumes of mist, sending it in all directions. Something had sent them fleeing away from the gates. They moved so fast that they looked nothing more than a blur.

  “What the hell was that?!” gasped Cropper, swivelling on his heels and shining the torch behind him.

  “You shouldn’t worry about them,” sneered Quint, “It won’t be too long before you’re acquainted with them.” I heard Quint laugh and felt his lust for Cropper’s death.

  I turned back in the direction from where the Cleaners had come from. But the fog was so disorientating, that with each step we took, it didn’t seem to get us anywhere.

  “Etta!” Quint spoke out loud, “I can’t find you!”

  Shining his torch in my face, Inspector Cropper, a look of confusion across his face, said, “Who the fuck is Etta?”

  “It’s not Etta,” I snapped. “It’s Kassidy!”

  “You said Etta…” argued Cropper. “What the…”

  But before he could continue, I felt my heart jump as the fog began to part. It shifted to the left and to the right, leaving a clear gap in between. In the distance I could see the tall, iron gates and fencing and standing just behind it was Kassidy. She stood rigid to the spot, yet her arms seemed to wave about like she was directing the fog – like it was her parting it. But how? Someone else stood just behind Kassidy with what looked like a large knife. It was Sylvia Green. As I tried to focus in on them both my head kept getting filled with images of Etta, the blonde lady who Quint seemed to be obsessed with. Sylvia was blonde. Could Quint be getting mixed up with her? Was he so heartbroken that any blonde lady would do?

  With no time to stand about and question it, Quint moved forward. But as he did, so followed Inspector Cropper. And it wasn’t just him who joined us. A horrible feeling of something looming up close behind had me on edge. That cold rush of dark shadows suddenly shot past us and smashed into the gates. I watched as the fencing shook violently, the silence exploding with the clanging of iron. The Cleaners wouldn’t give up. They had felt Kassidy’s presence – felt her empty body waiting to be consumed. They were starving for her and the others.

  I heard Quint call out again, “Etta… I’m here!” But it was too late. Kassidy and Sylvia turned and disappeared into the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Ben

  Although a path had somehow been cleared within the fog, enabling us to get to the fence, the Cleaners now barred our way. They were quite transparent at the moment – more like dark clouds shifting in the fog – clinging to the gates. They had paid us no attention so far, too consumed with reaching Kassidy and Sylvia. But now that Kassidy had disappeared from view with Sylvia, would they turn their attention to us? I looked at Cropper, who had just pulled out his police radio. He held it up to his mouth. The sound of static filled the air.

  “Bravo-Golf-24…?” said Cropper, his eyes never leaving me. There was no reply. Moaning under his breath, he tried again. “Bravo-Golf-24…?” He was met with more static and hissing. “For fuck’s sake!” He clipped his radio back onto his belt and said, “Looks like it’s up to me. I’m heading in. I suggest you stay put, Doctor Fletcher.” He rubbed his hands together and headed toward the gates.

  “Be my guest, Inspector Cropper,” shot Quint.

  “What are you doing?” I asked Quint. “Why are you letting him get in there first?” I could feel myself tense up. I felt angry – frustrated. Kassidy had been in my grasp. Surely if we got moving now we could catch up with her and Sylvia.

  “Calm down, Ben,” said Quint. “The Cleaners need a little distraction to allow us to get past them… Cropper will make an excellent commotion… don’t you think?”

  I could feel Quint’s excitement at the thought. He was knowingly letting Cropper walk to his death. A pang of guilt flared up inside of me as I watched Cropper get nearer to the dark mass that grabbed at the gates. But then that feeling was gone as I remembered all the things that Cropper had done or covered up over the years. He deserved everything he had coming to him. And besides, wit
h him out of the way, it left Middleton more vulnerable and cleared the deck for us to reach Kassidy and the others. Well, except for Doctor Langstone.

  Maybe Cropper sensed something as he got nearer to the Cleaners as he suddenly stopped short of the gates. I watched as he flicked on his torch and held it up to the shadows that swarmed in front of him. He took a step back and then another. As he turned around to face me, I saw the fear and confusion in those ugly bulbous eyes of his. But it was too late for him to change his mind – too late for plan B, if he ever had one. The Cleaners turned away from the gates, their dark shadowy forms took on a more solid shape. The familiar creaking became more prominent as they reached out and snatched Inspector Cropper from off his feet. His torch clattered to the ground and rolled away. Within seconds, Cropper’s body had disappeared – buried underneath the hungry Cleaners as they crowded him, pulling and tearing at his limbs. The silence of the fog was filled with screams – gut-wrenching cries of pain.

  “Let’s go,” said Quint, moving me forward along the gap in the fog. As we passed by the Cleaners, I couldn’t help but feel excited. Not because of what they were doing to Cropper – that was Quint’s enjoyment, but because I knew I would be seeing Kassidy very soon. I focused my attention ahead of me. I had no interest in watching the Cleaners, and although I hated Cropper, I still didn’t want to watch his death. Just the sound of his screams was enough to urge me on toward the gates.

  With the Cleaners’ attention on Cropper, I now stood in front of the towering iron fencing and gates. Beyond its border was nothing more than dead trees and shadows. Now out of the fog, the wind and rain continued to rush about and I longed for somewhere warm and dry. I took hold of the large iron handle and cringed as it creaked and groaned. Peering over my shoulder, worried that it would draw the Cleaners’ attention, I breathed a sigh of relief to see they were still busy with their new victim. I continued to turn it but with no luck.

  “The fucking gate won’t open,” I moaned at Quint. “It’s like something’s preventing it but I can’t see what that could be.” I peered between the bars and looked down at the lock. No, that wasn’t the problem. Looking up at the height of the fence, I wondered if I could climb it. But of course I could. Quint could climb anything. As I stretched up my arms and clung onto the iron bars, Quint spoke up.

  “You have to follow the path,” he said. “That’s the only way through. Langstone has certainly grown strong to have put something so powerful around his border. I can climb this fence easily, just not here. But there’s a break now and it’s in line with the gap in the fog.”

  Quint took the lead and walked a few paces to the right, then stopping in front of the fence, he said, “We climb up here.”

  Within seconds, Quint was over the top and climbing down the other side. My feet hit the ground and I turned to face the dead trees and the gravel path that Kassidy and Sylvia had fled down. The wind whipped through the lifeless branches, causing them to snap and fall to the wet ground. The air inside Langstone’s property stank of burnt vegetation. As Quint began to follow the path, I wondered what we would find. What would Doctor Langstone say when he realised that his border had been broken? And the more I wondered about what Quint and I would be faced with, the more my mind started to conjure up terrible scenarios. Had breaking in here put the volunteers at risk?

  “Of course it has,” answered Quint. “But they’re already at risk.”

  “From Langstone?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the rain.

  “From everything,” snapped Quint.

  A sudden flash from what Quint was thinking flared up in my head. He was killing the volunteers, breaking their bodies and tearing them apart.

  Feeling sick from the image I had just seen, I said, “You mean from you! It’s you they’re at risk from!” I stopped walking and stood in the middle of the path. “I thought you were going to help them… I really thought that maybe…”

  “Stop your fucking whining!” yelled Quint. “I’m a demon… I can’t help these thoughts that spring up inside my head. I didn’t ask to be this! This wasn’t what I used to be… before those fucked-up bastards sent me to my grave!”

  “Who were those people?” I asked.

  “A malevolent clan… they made me this when they forced me into my coffin and… enough! I don’t even want to think about them! I want the volunteers… Langstone and Middleton can go fuck themselves if they think they’re gonna have them.”

  I continued to walk along the path confused as to what Quint’s intentions truly were. Hunching my shoulders up against the wind and rain, I said, “Why go to all this trouble to get the volunteers if all you want to do is kill them?”

  Quint didn’t reply. But he hadn’t gone. I could still feel his presence – still feel him moving me on, although I did seem to have some control back in my legs. There was no point in me pushing him for answers. If he didn’t want to tell, then nothing could be done. And I knew that if I continued to question him, he would cloud my mind and then I would be useless to Kassidy and the others. All I could hope for was that Quint was just acting up – shitting me. He had done it many a time.

  We walked in silence through the trees and my thoughts turned to Kassidy. With my head still feeling clear, I remembered the few occasions where she had shown her interest in me. Did she feel that way toward me still even though I had pushed her away? Maybe she wouldn’t want to know me anymore. Perhaps she had come to her senses and realised that getting it on with a guy who struggled to control his life, whose very existence was only because he had a demon in him, was something that should be kept well away from. She was right to think like that. Anyone sane would believe the same.

  “Sane,” I whispered under my breath. Was Kassidy still sane? I had seen on many an occasion what VA10 and VA20 could do. I wondered how far the drug had spread within her. Feeling unnerved by my thoughts, I tried to push away images of past volunteers, climbing up walls and across ceilings. Volunteers ripping apart people and eating them. But I had just seen Kassidy, from a distance I know, but apart from her waving her arms about, which was strange, she hadn’t been attacking Sylvia, so maybe I was worrying for nothing. I prayed silently that Kassidy was all right and wasn’t turning into a monster. A monster that I had helped to create.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Kassidy

  As we rounded a bend on the gravel lane, the ruin loomed up in the night sky. It had started to rain again. The dogs growled and barked as they heard us splashing through the puddles. A single light could be seen coming from the room that Doctor Langstone seemed to always occupy. I looked to my right and could see the staff quarters. A small glow was flickering from the downstairs kitchen.

  I came to a stop and turned to Sylvia. Catching my breath, I said, “Listen… I want you to tell Raven and Max about Jude.”

  “What about you?” asked Sylvia. “What are you going to do?”

  Taking a deep breath and staring up at the staff quarters, I no longer felt scared, even though I knew I was about to confront Jude – Doshia. Instead, I felt angry and that was good. I needed to be angry. It seemed to make me stronger.

  Holding out my hand, a determined look across my face, I said, “Give me the knife.”

  Sylvia shook her head and whispered, “I might be crazy… those voices we keep hearing… I don’t think we should listen to them…” She lifted her hand and wiped away the rain that trickled down her face. “I know I’m mad but I can still think straight sometimes… and my voice – the one inside of me – is telling me not to kill Jude.”

  Still with my hand held out, waiting for the knife, I said, “Don’t you see… don’t you get it? He was at your drug test and tried to get you out but he failed to get away from Middleton. So then he tries again, a few months later at my drug test, only I didn’t realise that he had been a so-called volunteer already. I believed he was one of us just like you did. He’s not Jude – he’s Doshia – the one who wants control of the Cleaners.” I s
tared at Sylvia. Why couldn’t she see that we had all be manipulated here, to this very place? “All Jude needs now is Robert. But Doctor Langstone stands in his way. We have no idea where Robert is being held, and until we do what Langstone wants, Jude – or should I say Doshia – can’t get the Cleaners… Sylvia?” I stopped talking. Sylvia seemed to have drifted off into one of her silent modes. She rocked on the heels of her feet, mumbling quietly as if in some kind of trance. “Sylvia… can you hear me?” There was no response. My eyes fell upon the knife still clutched in her hands. Maybe I could ease it away without her realising. I stepped closer and took hold of her wrist. Gently, I lifted up her arm. There was no resistance. The knife was wet and slippery. I peeled back her fingers, and it slipped from her grip.

  The rain came down heavier now. I knew I couldn’t leave Sylvia out here by herself. So taking the knife in one hand and holding Sylvia’s arm in the other, I guided her to the staff quarters and opened the door.

  Max appeared in the hallway, a worried look across his face. “I was getting concerned… you’ve been gone for ages! I thought maybe you had found a way out and left us.” He stopped talking as he spotted the kitchen knife in my hand.

  I shook my head and whispered, “Take Sylvia. Jude is Doshia. He was a volunteer at her drug test, too. Where is he?”

  Max looked up at the ceiling and answered, “He’s upstairs – third bedroom on the right. What’s the plan?”

  “There is no plan – no time to discuss – all we can do is rid Doshia of Jude’s body, and…”

  “We?” asked Max, his eyes wide. “I can’t slice up bodies… I…” He screwed his face up like he’d just smelt something bad. “I can’t do it. What about Raven? She’s been acting all crazy… she’ll do it.”

  I rolled my eyes and said, “For god’s sake! Max, you’re gonna see a lot worse if we don’t do this…”

  Scratching his head and looking for an excuse, Max said, “Someone needs to watch Sylvia. I’ll do that. You and Raven… you’re both more vicious than me…” He took hold of Sylvia by the arm and started to walk her into the kitchen.