by Tim Flanagan
Tracker could see the creature that had just scratched Steven had already turned and started its dive back towards them. He refilled the shotgun whilst all the time keeping the creature in his sights and calmly waited for it to come closer.
Near Steven a black figure lifted itself from the base of a tree and began pulling itself awkwardly towards him. It was the first creature that Tracker had shot through the wing and as it could no longer fly straight, it was ready to resume its attack from the ground. The crash into the tree must have damaged it in other ways as it was dragging one leg behind it and partially pulling itself with its arms and the hooked fingers across the ground. Georgia rushed over to Steven, picked up a fallen branch from one of the trees and swung it as hard as she could into the side of the creature’s head. As the branch exploded into splinters, the creature twisted in the air, lifted off the ground by the force of the strike to land motionless back on the ground. At the same time she heard Tracker’s gun go off with a loud echoing boom that repeated itself as it bounced from tree to tree far into the distance. There was silence for a second before it was followed by a dull thump and a rustling sound made by something heavy skimming across the ground into a dead heap.
Tracker slid over to Steven and Georgia, keeping a careful eye on the sky above. There was one more creature circling, but it didn’t look like it was getting ready to attack. Suddenly a piercing screeching noise cut through the air making Georgia cover her ears. Whether the sound was in sorrow for the fallen creatures or not, they didn’t know, but Tracker had a feeling that it was more likely a call for help and guessed that reinforcements would soon be on their way.
‘Quick, we have to move,’ he said forcefully to Georgia. ‘Help him up; the ice house is not far. It’s the nearest place for shelter. They know we’re here. We’ve got to move!’
With Tracker holding Steven under one arm and Georgia under the other, they managed to lift him off the ground and stagger forward along the path. Steven had to walk with his back bent forward because every time he stood up straight, the wound opened again and pain shot through his chest.
The three of them stumbled together along the path until the trees cleared and they came out alongside the lake. Around the edges of the lake there were muddy banks with tree trunks clinging to the soil, their thick roots exposed but somehow succeeding in stopping the tree from falling into the water. Whilst they walked, Tracker kept his shotgun raised towards the sky, keeping a careful eye on the remaining creature as it watched them from its perch in the top of the trees. No further attacks happened but the creature continued to make more ear piercing calls.
The path through the woodland now joined onto a better tended path that was covered with a sandy gravel and edged with wood to hold the earth back. Steven's feet slid on the loose gravel, but luckily he was starting to recover from the shock of the attack and although the wound on his chest still stung he was starting to regain his strength.
As the path wound alongside the lake, the ground to the left of the path became raised and they eventually reached a small brick-lined opening that cut into a mound of earth with a thick wooden door almost like it was the entrance to someone’s house. Moss had grown on top of the mound but occasionally the surface of a brick could still be seen where the soil and moss had been washed away.
‘This is the ice house,’ said Tracker as he propped Steven against one of the sloped brick walls that held the earth back from the entrance.
At that point a loud chorus of screeching came from the distance, answered by the remaining creature that had watched the humans as they walked along the path. Steven and Georgia turned round to see a dark cloud coming across the top of the trees in the distance. It moved quickly and as it got nearer they could distinguish the numerous black shaped creatures, their leathery wings flapping rapidly towards them. The creature that had survived the earlier attack now leapt from its perch on the top of one of the trees and was circling in the air above the ice house.
The flock headed towards them.
‘Quick, we better get under cover,’ Tracker said desperately to Georgia.
Tracker handed the shotgun to Steven whilst he took a bundle of keys from his pocket and started sorting through them trying to find the right one for the lock. The large ring held many different sizes and shapes of keys and Tracker was now trying each one individually inside the rusty lock of the door. The now familiar sound of wind rushing towards them began again as the creatures started to dive at them once more. The mound of earth gave them some protection from the sides and back so the creatures were unable to dive down as close to them as they had done in the woodland, but still they kept swooping. Tracker tried key after key until finally one of them slotted into the lock to turn it, but it had been many years since the ice house had last been opened and the rust had fused the door stiff. Tracker repeatedly pushed with his shoulder trying to loosen the door from the frame but the door wouldn’t move. With every attack from above, the creatures seemed to get nearer and nearer. Steven and Georgia pushed themselves as close as they could to the door of the ice house, Georgia instinctively ducking every time one of the creatures came near.
Suddenly they all became aware of a different sound other than the air sweeping and whooshing around them. There was a breathy gurgling sound coming from above them, but not in the air. As they all looked up they stared straight into the moon-like eye of a creature that had landed on top of the mound of earth and was perched on the ground high above the brick arch that went round the door. It clawed at them with one arm whilst holding itself steady with the other. They managed to dodge the claw as it came for a second grab at them.
Georgia screamed.
Whilst their attention had focused on the creature above them they hadn’t noticed that some of the others had now started to land on the path in front of them. Another creature was now walking awkwardly towards them, using its legs and the claws on its wings for balance, whilst the attack continued from the sky. They had nowhere to go; they were trapped between a brick wall on either side and a door behind them. All around were creatures, possibly thirty or forty, some on the ground and some still in the air. Steven felt the cold steel of the trigger of the shotgun underneath his finger and he remembered that he still had a chance for survival. At least he could kill a few more of these creatures before they got to them.
He levelled the shotgun at the creature approaching them on the path and pulled the trigger. The force of the shotgun pellets knocked the creature off its feet and a pool of yellowy liquid erupted from the hole in the middle of its chest. As soon as he pulled the trigger, the force of the gun pushed him backwards against the door which gave it the push it needed to release it from its rusty frame and open the ice house. Tracker, who had been pushing against the door with his shoulder, stumbled forward but the other two who were facing the other way fell backwards and were now lying on the floor half in the ice house and half out of it. The creature on the roof jumped down and was now standing where Steven and Georgia had just been. Steven let off another shot from the gun knocking the creature backwards. They then scrambled backwards while Tracker pushed the door back into its frame.
As Tracker found the key to lock the door, it was suddenly pushed inwards, knocking him once more to the floor. In the doorway stood two of the creatures silhouetted against the night sky scratching their clawed hands on the ground. Instinctively the three of them jumped up and ran at the door pushing it with all their combined strength and forcing it against the creatures and into the frame while Tracker turned the lock.
They all sat exhausted on the floor gasping for breath as they took the stale air of the ice house into their lungs. Inside the ice house it was pitch black. Thuds came from above as more creatures landed on the roof of the building outside.
Tracker reached to his belt and took out a pocket flashlight which he shone over to Steven and Georgia then checked the area around him. Hanging on the wall beside the inner door he saw a storm lamp which
he removed. Striking a match he lit the lamp, hoping there was still some paraffin inside, and a warm orange glow filled the chamber.
‘Let’s move through into the next chamber,’ Tracker instructed as he pointed to a second door.
Again Tracker worked his way through the keys until he found the one that opened the door and they entered another chamber. Here the air was damper and old, like it had been trapped inside the building for years. Locking the door behind them, they now had two barriers between themselves and the creatures. This chamber was a lot cooler than the first. Tracker moved the lamp over to Steven so that he could check his wounds. Georgia took a bottle of water and a clean tissue from her bag and used it to clean Steven’s wounds.
They stood and looked around their surroundings. Apart from the area they were currently in, there was a red brick chamber which had some steps leading down to the bottom and was dominated by a large domed roof. Tracker put the lamp down.
‘This is where the ice used to be put to keep this chamber cold. There’s a small drainage hole at the bottom that leads out to the lake,’ he told Steven and Georgia.
‘Apart from the drain and the doorway, are there any other ways the creatures could get in?' asked Georgia with a nervous quiver in her voice.
‘No,’ replied Tracker.
‘But there’s also no other way for us to get out,’ added Steven sarcastically.
‘So what are we going to do?' Georgia asked in a panic.
‘Stay calm,’ Tracker said forcefully. ‘Let’s just sit and wait. While we recover from the attack, we can work out what to do next. You never know. They may give up and leave us alone.’
Even though they were inside the second chamber they could still hear the persistent bangs and scratches on the main entrance door as well as the high pitched screams of the creatures.
Tracker turned the lamp off to save the paraffin.
They sat down and waited nervously in the dark.
32. One Way Out
As the night progressed, the thuds and bangs from the creatures that tried to get into the ice house continued. So far the entrance door with its rusty lock had managed to hold up.
‘How are we going to get out of here?' asked Steven from the darkness.
He could hear his two companions breathing on either side of him and could tell which was which by sniffing the air; the fragrant perfume Georgia used was on his left, whilst on the right, was the heavier smell of Tracker which reminded Steven of overly dry earth after a shower of rain.
‘I’m not sure,’ replied Tracker after a while. ‘The door won't survive for too much longer. They're certainly persistent creatures.’
‘If this old building is built of bricks, couldn't we try taking some of them out to escape through the roof?’ Georgia suggested, her voice echoing inside the enclosed chamber.
‘The creatures would soon be able to jump onto the roof and get into the ice house through the hole before we had chance to get out. The only way out is through the front door.’
There was a strange peaceful silence inside the dark despite the sounds outside, and sitting on the floor was starting to make them feel quite cold. Without warning a light appeared from the dark casting a yellow glow around the chamber, Tracker had lit a match and was trying to ignite the Storm Lamp. The sudden change of light made them squint their eyes but they soon adjusted to the change.
‘What do you think we should do?' asked Steven.
‘We need to head towards Butterwick Hall,' replied Tracker. 'It’s not far from here, just a short walk from the lake. It would probably take about three minutes walking, but maybe just one minute if we ran. When we get inside, there are food stores as well as more weapons.’
‘Is it secure?’
‘It should be. It’s an old house, so the windows are made up of small leaded squares, the doors are thick wooden ones, reinforced with steel hinges and studs. It’s not a fortress but it’s better than being in here,’ Tracker said. ‘What’s in your bag?' he asked Georgia.
She unzipped the bag and emptied the contents onto the floor at their feet. As well as the other handgun, additional ammunition and boxes of antibiotics, there was also her purse, some test tube shaped sample bottles, car keys and a make up bag.
‘Where’s your car?' asked Tracker.
‘Not far from where you saw us. It’s parked outside the Fox and Hound Pub in the village,’ she replied.
Tracker picked the make up bag off the floor and looked inside it. He pulled a travel size aerosol deodorant can out of the bag and shook it close to his ear so that he could hear how much was left inside.
‘How accurate are you at shooting?' he asked Steven, 'Have you ever been clay pigeon shooting?’
‘No, but I'm fairly good. What have you got in mind?’
‘This aerosol can could be our way out of here. Aerosols are made of compressed air and contain gases that burn and explode easily. If we threw the can outside and shot it, the explosion may injure a few of the creatures, but the main effect would be shock and that might just give us enough time to get out and make a run for the main house.’
‘But we would have to open the entrance door to do it,’ said Steven. ‘We’d only get one chance. Maybe you should take the shot at the can rather than me,’ he told Tracker, unsure in his own ability with the gun.
‘Alright, but I will need your gun to do it. You would have to cover me with the shotgun.’ Tracker loaded the last two shots into his shotgun and clicked the barrels back into place.
Georgia packed everything back into her bag including the additional cases of bullets and pulled the straps over both shoulders.
‘Well, there’s no time like the present,’ said Tracker cheerfully.
Georgia took the lamp from Tracker whilst he found the keys again and unlocked the inner door to the chamber. Tracker cautiously opened the door with guns at the ready. He checked it was secure before moving into the section behind the outer door. They could see that splinters of wood had been torn away from the sides and base of the door and the dark shadows of the creatures moving around outside were silhouetted against the night. Georgia placed the lamp on the floor and took the bunch of keys from Tracker. He held one of the keys out separately to the others so she knew which one was the key to the outer door.
‘We need to be ready to protect ourselves from the explosion by pressing up against the door to prevent the blast from pushing it in,’ whispered Tracker to the other two, who nodded. Georgia quietly slid the key into the lock ready to turn it when the time was right. Tracker had now begun examining the holes that had been made around the door, one of which, around a hinge, was big enough for him to shoot through. At the base of the door, chunks of wood had splintered and been torn away. He reached down and placed the aerosol can on the floor on the inside of the door but lined up with the hole. He jumped back with fright as long clawed fingers poked under the door towards the can and began scratching deep lines into the dry ground. Tracker stamped his heavy booted foot down onto the fingers resulting in a high pitched scream as the fingers quickly pulled back. Tracker put the can nearer to the hole then nudged it through with the toe of his boot. He then looked out of the hole near the hinge, raised his gun ready to shoot, but couldn’t see where it had gone. Some of the creatures had now moved away from the door and over to the right hand side of the path distracted and drawn towards the can.
‘I can’t get a clear shot at the can,’ he whispered to the others. Georgia’s hand was held tightly around the door key ready to turn whilst Steven held the shotgun in both hands, his back pressed firmly against the door.
From behind them the bricks began to fall into the large chamber of the ice house near to where they had been sitting.
‘We have to hurry!' whispered Georgia, ‘they must be starting to break through the roof!’
‘Can you see the aerosol yet?' Steven asked Tracker impatiently as the sound of a larger number of bricks crashed into the bottom of the chamber.
/> Feeling the need for urgency, Tracker decided to create a diversion to move some of the creatures away from the can so that he could see it to shoot it clearly. He carefully looked straight down the barrel of the gun and aimed it at a creature that was on the outside of the gathering of creatures. As he pulled the trigger and released a bullet into the head of the creature, the bang of the gun coincided with the heavy thud of a creature as it squeezed through the hole in the roof behind them and landed at the bottom of the deeper chamber of the ice house. It wouldn’t take long for it to climb out and attack them from within. Outside the creature that had been shot had fallen to the floor and the rest of the group had instinctively flown away like a flock of frightened birds. By the side of the dead creature Tracker could now see the purple coloured canister of deodorant lying on the ground. He knew that the creatures wouldn’t have flown far away and were probably waiting in a tree or further along the path. They wouldn’t stand a chance if they tried to run for the house without the element of surprise. If he was going to shoot the can, it would have no effect if the creatures were at a safe distance. He needed to tempt them back before the one that had now got into the chamber came through and attacked them from inside. Tracker thought quickly.
‘Lock the inner door,’ he instructed to Georgia.
‘But we’ll be trapped between the two doors!’
‘Do it and do it quick! There's a creature in the chamber and I’m not ready to be breakfast just yet!’
Georgia stepped away from the door and slotted the key into the inner door and locked it. They were now sandwiched between two wooden doors with creatures on both sides.
‘Take off your shirt,’ Tracker said to Steven. 'We need to tempt them back so that the explosion from the can will be effective.’
Steven nodded, understanding that the blood on his shirt would draw the creatures back towards the ice house entrance.
