Shades of Blood #7: The Bus To Hell

by Peter Ackers

But?"

  "Clothing. That always works. Stimulates the mind. You have some clothing we can use?"

  "We?" He couldn't help a grin.

  "You are my newest friend. We. Come on."

  She took his hand and led him home. He didn't speak during the return journey. Thankfully, Roswell was nowhere to be seen.

  He noticed that the living room was dark, while the bedroom light was on. He remembered that sometimes Alison enjoyed retiring early with a book.

  Lucy used the front door rather than the wall, which might have been habit, or a mark of respect because it wasn't her house. They climbed the stairs and stopped on the landing outside the door of the master bedroom. Lucy released his hand. He was meant to do something here, he knew; but what?

  "Talk to her," Lucy said as if reading his mind.

  He felt daft, and that itself was daft.

  "This won't work. I might scare her."

  "Don't be a child," she said with a grin. She passed through the door and was gone. Ricky steeled himself and followed.

  The moment he was inside the bedroom, Ricky froze with shock.

  Standing over Alison's bed - their marital bed - was something Ricky could barely describe, but he was sure of one thing: he was glad it was a ghost.

  For some reason he'd expected the Conductor to be the creature that had driven the bus he escaped from. But Conductors didn't drive buses, drivers did. Conductors made sure all the passengers paid their fares and completed their trips. And this new creature was here to do its job.

  17

  Like the driver of the bus, the Conductor wore a long robe or cope of a thin material that billowed at the bottom as if washed by a soft wind from underneath. The cope was armless; the appendages that protruded were thin but muscular and of such a dark skin tone they were not transparent like his own, but translucent, and when they moved they created a shimmering effect in the air, rather like a heat wave, that blurred Ricky's view of whatever lay behind. It was almost dizzying to watch.

  The head was covered by a tight hood rather like the sort work by a falcon. The strings were knotted tightly beneath the chin, the tails hanging low over the creature's shoulders. Lumps beneath the hood suggested the creature had a deformed skull. Maybe the hood kept the head from falling apart; maybe the beast was ashamed of its own features. The reason didn't matter.

  It turned its head and faced Ricky. It had eyes as black as jet. A large nose overshadowed a wide mouth whose teeth were small and flat, as if it had a mouthful of sugar-cubes. But the teeth didn't matter; the Conductor didn't eat those it was sent to retrieve. Consequently, the creature would have strengths in other areas.

  Lucy was stood on the far side of the bed, staring right at the creature, frozen like a cat sensing danger. Between she and the Conductor was the double bed and Alison, laying but not sleeping, and not reading as he'd thought. There were dried tears on her cheeks. She was staring up at the ceiling, unaware of those who shared her room.

  "Keep away!" Lucy screamed, but not at the Conductor. She was warning Ricky.

  The Conductor took a step towards Ricky, then stopped. It turned for Lucy, who backed off. Somewhat comically, she backed through the wall at a point just beside the window, teetered like someone on a high ledge, and vanished as if swallowed by the brick barrier.

  Ricky didn't waste time wondering about this. The Conductor was distracted and Ricky wasn't going to abandon this chance. He rushed the creature with a scream in his throat, a scream that became a grunt of pain as the beast swatted him aside with its bony brown arm.

  He felt himself flying through the air, towards the outer wall. He closed his eyes instinctively in preparation for the impact, but there was no thud of a body hitting a wall.

  Instead, the wall swallowed him as it had Lucy. All went black for a split second, then he was falling, watching the ground rush up at him. He landed hard in his own front garden, and felt tickling pain of a genus that he couldn't describe.

  He was on his feet in moments, obviously uninjured, except where the Conductor had hit him.

  He looked at the house, at the bedroom window. He tried to digest the fact that he'd just been knocked through that wall!

  As Ricky stared at the window, he saw the Conductor appear behind the glass, staring down at him. The beast stepped back until it was out of view.

  "We should go, right now!" Lucy yelled. Ricky thought that was the best idea he'd heard in a long time.

  He turned. Lucy yelled again. He tried to turn back, but was too late. The Conductor had literally jumped through the wall in pursuit. Ricky felt searing pain in his back as the beast landed on him. Down he went, face crushed hard, but again painlessly, into the soft earth. Strong fingers grabbed his hair, yanked up his head, pulling hard, threatening to break his neck - if that were even possible.

  He heard barking and growling. Roswell, back for another round. He watched it race towards him, teeth bared. It bore down on him with lightning speed, so fast that he had no time to think. He simply closed his eyes and waited for this rather unpleasant day to end.

  Roswell leaped. He sailed through the air, through Ricky's head. Ricky felt another sharp tug on his hair and assumed this was it, the end. But then the fingers that held him loosened and he fell flat on his face. He turned his head slowly, not daring a sudden movement, unsure of what was happening.

  Roswell and the Conductor were fighting like strays, the dog growling, the beast it fought snarling in a similar way. Ricky wondered why the dog was able to touch the Conductor but not himself, or Lucy.

  Lucy was by his side suddenly, urging him up, saying they had to leave, get somewhere safe, and quickly. She was full of good ideas, he decided.

  Roswell yelped and then he was running, running away just as fast as he could. And now the Conductor was again boring into Ricky with those evil black eyes. But it did not move towards him. Its breathing became ragged, its sneer angrier. But still it did not advance.

  Sensing something behind him, Ricky fought the urge to turn, fearing a trick. Now the beast was staring past him, at something behind, but still he didn't turn.

  "Oh my God," Lucy said. Ricky couldn't contain himself: he slowly twisted his head to the left and looked back.

  Flowing slowly down his street, emerging from the darkness like a mist, were people. Dozens and dozens, maybe hundreds. Some were dressed in modern clothing while others were attired in fashions from older times. They filed slowly, like a marching band minus the instruments. A car came at them, headlights cutting through the dark. But they did not move aside. The car momentarily splashed light across the vanguard and Ricky saw tight, scared faces, and haunted eyes. Then the car passed through them and was gone and the gloom shrouded them again, but Ricky had seen enough to know who these people were. Ghosts. The ghost of every person who'd died in this town; people from multiple decades and centuries. These were the people who lived their nights in Baxter Mine to avoid the Conductor. For some reason they had ventured out, headed here, here where their Nemesis lurked in wait for he who had most recently escaped it

  ``.

  Lucy took his hand and they ran for the garden gate, through it, out into the road, into the throng that had gathered before his garden. The Conductor didn't know what to do: it was used to hunting lone prey, not taking on an army of the dead.

  Ricky stared at these people in disbelief. So many! All dead! There were enough people here for a council, a government, even a society of sorts. Suddenly death didn't seem so final to him.

  A man in clothing befitting the 1970s stepped up. He was bearded, middle-aged, and mean-looking.

  "Lucy," this man said. "I hope you know what you are doing."

  Lucy tugged on Ricky's hand. "I'm sorry I ran out, but he's sad, Mr. Hamilton. Lonely and sad. He should join us."

  "There might not be an 'us' for much longer, if this goes wrong."

  He meant the Conductor. But the beast was still in place, probably still weighing up its chances of winning
this battle. Everybody stood fast, waiting. Nobody wanted to turn away lest that inspire confidence in their enemy.

  They waited.

  The Conductor yelled something at them. A meaningless roar or a word in its own tongue, nobody knew. Then it turned and fled. A cheer went up.

  Mr Hamilton silenced them. "That thing'll be back tomorrow night, and the night after. So let's thank our lucky stars for tonight and go home." He fixed Ricky with a stare. "You too, newcomer. Unless you have business here first?"

  "He does," said Lucy. She grinned. "But we'll wait."

  "Oh, will we?" Hamilton said, but he was grinning too.

  Lucy looked up at Ricky. "Go talk to her."

  Ricky took a breath. He was more nervous than ever.

  18

  She wasn't in the bedroom when he returned. The bathroom door was ajar, the light on. He considered waiting until she had finished her business in there, but decided that the longer he waited, the more chance there was he'd back out of this. It was now or never.

  "I'm sorry," he heard her say. "So sorry." She was crying. He figured she was on her mobile phone. Intrigued, he passed through the door and into the room.

  She was