“I certainly hope so. I wouldn’t want to have to go through them.”
“Perhaps they’ve already finished the work on the roads. Afterall, there are only a few potholes on that stretch.”
The women continue to chatter until the road seems to disappear into a bank of trees as the road winds downwards. The car in front slows, its brake lights burning red. Tilly slows with a lurch, apologises as Mavis jerks forward, then stops. The car in front has come to a standstill. Beyond, the cars have stopped at the point where the road descends once more into the forest. Across the road is a barricade of steel panels that stretches from one side of the road to the other.
“What the very hell is that?”
“A ruddy great fence!”
The driver’s door of the car in front swings open, along with the doors of the other cars. Conrad Shelby is standing, hands on hips staring at the huge steel structure.
“Come on, Tilly. Let’s go and find out what’s happening.”
“But, shouldn’t we leave it to Conrad?” Tilly’s innards are suddenly queasy.
“Not on your Nelly!” Mavis retorts. “I want to know exactly what’s going on. You don’t find that out by cowering in the car.” Mavis is a resilient woman, becoming feistier with age. “Come on gal. Let’s go.”
Obedient, Tilly steps out of the car and quickens her pace to keep up with Mavis’ stride.
35
Conrad scans the forest and the road, checking for any sign of movement. All is quiet, seemingly normal, apart from a dirty great metal fence sitting across the road and stretching into the trees either side making an evacuation impossible. He wasn’t convinced of the wolfman hypothesis – it was too outlandish to be true – but that there was someone, or a number of people, attacking and killing the villagers, he is of no doubt. PC Latimer’s report of the destruction of the police team in the woods, and the further testimonies of attacks, had convinced him that he should lead the villagers out of the area until the police had apprehended the attackers. He had even mulled over the possibility of it being a peculiar terrorist attack; serial killers, after all, weren’t known to work in groups, although it wasn’t wholly unheard of.
“What on earth is this, Conrad?”
“It’s a blockade.”
“Obviously, but didn’t Latimer say there were barriers with workmen?”
“She did.”
“This isn’t any kind of roadblock I’ve seen before and there are no workmen.”
Conrad walks up to the fence. It reaches for at least another seven feet above his six-foot three frame. He taps. Solid. Massive bolts hold down the steel panels. He fingers them. It’s not the first time he’s seen such a structure; Nogales, Arizona, in 2015. He’d visited the US in his role as security consultant. After leaving the forces, he’d earned three times the money working in the private sector.
“Whoever put this up has no intention of letting us pass.” He peers through to the road on the other side. More construction was taking place, but the workmen were temporarily absent.
“Who the hell put it here?”
Someone with government backing, enormous influence, and perhaps military collusion. “I don’t know.”
Tilly steps beside him. “There’s a sign bolted on the other side.” She points to the edges of a white metal panel.
He pulls out his phone and swipes at the screen. That communications between the outside world and the village had been cut off for the past days was deeply concerning, but at least his expensive piece of technology wasn’t completely redundant. He clicks the phone’s camera on and holds it, lens upwards, through the barrier, and clicks.
Pulling it back, his scalp creeps and his belly knots.
“What does it say?”
He clears his throat. This is serious. “It says, ‘Biological hazard. Contaminated land. Entry prohibited.’”
“What?”
Other villagers have gathered now, and a group of at least fifty people is crowding to listen.
“Biological hazard! What does that mean?”
“Contaminated land? Has there been an accident? Isn’t that what they say when they find anthrax or something, or nuclear waste? We don’t have that around here!”
“They found anthrax years ago further south. They took it out of the area at night by train so no one knew.”
“What? Here?”
“No. In the north midlands, in a town near the Humber Bridge. They didn’t put a sodding great wall up and trap people on the land though.”
“We’re trapped?”
“Looks like one of those border walls they put up to stop migrants.”
“How can we be migrants? We live here.”
“Tsk! We’re not. I just said it looks like one.”
Conrad blocks out the excited chatter, focusing on his next step. Something was dreadfully wrong. Someone was attacking and killing the villagers in a most savage manner and they had now effectively been imprisoned along with him, or her. He needs - they need - to find out who is behind it, but making sure the gathered evacuees are safe has to be his number one priority.
“Everyone back in your cars.”
“But we’re supposed to be evacuating!”
The sun is beginning to drop in the horizon, the trees casting their shadows over the clearing, turning to black behind a lowering apricot sky. He checks his watch and, as he does so, notices the marks in the road and adjacent grass. Bullet marks. He scans the grass. Blood. Latimer had been telling the truth. Someone had been shot here. Shot perhaps wasn’t the correct word. From the spray of bullets and the blood on the grass, the body must have been shredded. There is no evidence of a body though, and he’s thankful for that. The area had been cleaned up. There were the marks of bullets but no casings, or remnants of flesh. He scans the fence once more, thankful now that whoever erected it is no longer here, and moves back to his car. Among the trees, a figure moves.
His heart palpitates. “Everybody back in your cars.”
Tilly, still at his side, catches his glance towards the forest. A mewl catches in her throat, and she grabs his sleeve. “Did you see it?”
“Tilly, would you please return to your vehicle?”
“But there was something in the trees. I saw it.”
“Just a deer, I think. It’s hard to see anything in the trees now.”
“But-”
Sweat is beginning to dampen his underarms. The sun is setting, visibility reducing in the winter’s twilight. “We can’t get through this way. It’s best if we turn around.”
“Back to the village?”
“Yes, back to the village.”
As Tilly turns from him, Mavis guiding her towards the car, he scans the forest again. Another figure moves among the trees, and then another. He makes an effort to focus in the diminishing light. Multiple figures seem to flit among the dark tree trunks. He turns his attention back to the evacuees. Cars have pulled up politely, one behind another. Many are too close for an easy, unimpeded, three-point turn and rapid escape. He makes a quick calculation; getting them to turn around won’t be too difficult if the car at the end moves back first. He turns to the group, ushering them back to their cars, requesting that the cars at the back move first, as the creeping sensation of being watched crawls over his neck and across his shoulders. From the other side of the fence, a vehicle comes into view through its bars.
Amy Carmichael tugs at her son’s arm as she ushers him back to the car. Her daughter stands close to her side.
“I need a pee, Mum.”
“You’ll have to wait until we get back to the village.”
“We’re going back?” Her daughter’s voice carries the pith of anxiety. She huffs. “There’s no Wi-Fi there, Mum,” she whines.
“Not now, Jasmine,” her mother retorts and turns her attention back to her son. He tugs at her grip on his sleeve.
“Mum! I need to pee. Now!”
“There are no toilets here, Caleb.”
; “I can pee in the trees. You say to do that when we’re on a walk.”
Amy glances at the crowds of people and the darkening tree-line. “That’s when we’re on our own. There are a lot of people here.”
“Do it behind the car,” Jasmine offers.
“No way!” His turn to look at the gathering of villagers. “I don’t want people seeing my tackle.”
Jasmine snorts. “There’s nothing to look at.”
Caleb huffs. “I’ll go to the trees.”
Amy checks around. The villagers are either returning to their cars or standing in groups, some obviously riled, debating about what to do next. Karen Jenkins is in tears – nothing new there – and Flight captain – or whatever – Conrad Shelby is standing with a smaller group pointing at the cars, and giving commands. A few people seem to be staring into the treeline fifty feet to the right. “OK,” she relents. “Go over to those trees.” She points to the other side of the road where the trees are about thirty feet away. “But be quick,” she shouts to his back as he runs towards the large pines. “We’ll be in the car.”
Amy takes another step closer to the car and is knocked against a front bumper as a woman runs blindly past. She grunts as dull pain moves through her thigh muscle. A hush descends. Instinctively casting a glance towards the villagers, she follows their gaze to the treeline. Among the trees, hugging the shadows, but easy to discern, are the distorted figures of numerous - what in God’s name are they? - creatures. She peers for a second, squinting for a clearer view, her head spins with confusion. She recognises one as a still curvaceous, but oddly deformed version of her beautiful friend Kelly. She swallows. Kathy had said that Kelly had been bitten, but surely to goodness there was nothing on this earth that could cause such a hideous transmogrification so quickly. She’d seen hideous diseases that destroyed bodies, deformed their victims into monsters, but nothing that could act so quickly, they took years. The thing shifts and dances among the trees and ferns, hopping from foot to foot in agitation. What is it waiting for? Caleb! She twists to see him, catching sight of his back still to her, obviously relieving himself against the ferns. She glances back to the creatures among the trees. They were waiting—anxiously, excitedly, each one stepping in and out of the shadows, among the trees, squatting, hopping, cackling. Her skin crawls at the noise of their shrieking chatter. Each of them is naked, or partially clothed with remnants of cloth, some with ripped t-shirts, or jeans that were nothing more than a waistband and a shred of denim. A thin layer of dark hair lies over their skin, very much thicker between their legs. Heart palpitating, she grabs Jasmine’s sleeve in a slow motion and urges her to step to the car.
These are the creatures that PC Latimer and Freddie Barnes had told them about. She hadn’t really believed them, there were no such things as wolfmen, or zombies, or wendigos, they were all myth. Sure, there was something in the woods attacking them, but she’d thought it was only logical to believe that it was someone dressing up, a weirdo serial killer, or murderous cult perhaps, but not wolfmen.
She takes another step towards the car, unsure whether to just pelt it down the road to reach it or walk slowly. Stay calm! How the hell can she? There are monsters in the woods staring at her and her kids … Caleb! She swings around. Caleb has his back to them, oblivious of the wolfmen on the other side of the road.
“Caleb!” Her voice is a thrown whisper that catches in her throat. Alternating between the monsters in the forest and her son, she calls him again, keeping her voice low as he does his zipper up. “Caleb, come on!”
“Coming, Mum!”
Too loud!
The creatures shriek as he calls.
She beckons him with rising panic. “Quick!”
There are three more cars to go before they can reach theirs. Caleb turns, pulling at his zipper. She panics and motions for him to be slow and steady, to be quiet as he walks to her. No sudden movements! In the forest the creatures hang back in the shadows, unafraid of being seen. Her stomach knots. What are they waiting for? Javeen had talked of how she and the other police officers had been ambushed, how they had seemed to track them through the woods. Hadn’t she said Max Anderson had been one of them? She scans the trees. She can’t see Max, but there are three women, a girl that could be Rachel, Jim Kendrick’s daughter and two males, neither of which bore any resemblance to Max.
As Caleb joins them, she walks with a quicker step, making efforts to keep her movements smooth, desperate not to trigger the creatures into action. Caleb opens his mouth to speak and catches sight of the creatures among the trees. His mouth snaps shut. As Amy grabs his arm with a firm grip and ushers him towards the car, movement catches her eye behind him. A large figure stands among the trees. Amy’s heart beats hard in her chest, a sudden need to defecate. The figure, a large male, steps out from the trees only ten feet from where Caleb had relieved himself. It’s Max Anderson. Amy tightens her grip around the car keys and pulls them from her pocket. They are surrounded. The man, the thing that had once been Max Anderson, locks its blood-red eyes on hers and its lips pull back over an elongated jaw. Incisors, bone-white and pointed, glisten with saliva as its head tips back. Amy can’t wait a second longer. “Run!” she hisses at Caleb and Jasmine. “Run!” She grabs their sleeves, tugs them to face the car, and pushes them forward as the thing that had been Max howls.
“Run!”
Chaos erupts as the creatures break from the shadows, guttural, primal howls burst from open jaws, and the monsters move with preternatural speed towards the convoy.
Screams. Shouting. Howls. Snickers. The air fills with noise.
36
Conrad twists from the vehicle approaching the fence to the galloping creatures as their ungodly howls fill the air. Their screeches fill his ears, the timbre of their howls vibrating in his chest. His heart pounds against it. He registers that the vehicle has stopped and that men are jumping out as the first creature reaches the convoy. For that second, he can’t move. There are so many people that need his help—too many people to help.
“Back to your cars!” he shouts again, his voice splitting as air is forced over his vocal chords. He grabs Tilly’s arm as the first villager is taken. The creature had run from the trees, down the slight incline to the road at lightning speed and just grabbed Allan Jenkins, lifting him from his feet and twirling him round, forcing him onto the floor. As the second creature grabs another victim, the first bears down on Allan, lips pulled back to reveal long, sharp incisors, and rips at his shirt. Flesh bared, it sinks its fangs into his shoulder. Allan bucks against the female as his wife punches at the back of its head. With a snarl, the thing turns on the wife, and pounces. Conrad turns from the sight of blood spraying from her jugular as he pulls Tilly towards the car. Mavis runs at their side.
As he urges them to run, a creature, another female, lands beside them. Tilly jumps away from the beast, knocking into Mavis. The older woman lands with a thud. The thing steps closer, its eyes, black at the centre, its whites filled with blood, and leans into Conrad. A shiver runs through his body as the thing bares its teeth and bends into his throat. It inhales then pulls away. Behind him screams, thuds, and shouting fills the air. Beside him Tilly scrambles to her feet as what was once Kelly Gray, leans closer, her breasts brushing against his jacket, and sniffs. She growls, pulls away and stares down at the women. For a second it watches, perhaps deciding between the two, then grabs for Tilly. She screams and staggers back. It pounces just as Mavis launches herself between the beast and Tilly. The thing’s jaws clamp around Mavis’ throat, incisors slicing through the flesh. She screams, beating her walking stick against the creature. It takes no notice and rips at her throat. Tilly screams.
Conrad has to take action. Saving Mavis, is not an option. The woman’s throat is being torn out and, as he reaches for Tilly, the creature has turned its attention to Mavis’ belly. He grabs Tilly’s arm, yanks her forward, and pulls her to run with him. Terrified and gurgling screams fill the air as he reach
es his car. Moira stares through the windscreen in horrified silence. A body slumps against the boot, its belly ripped open, its innards bulging. As he opens the door and throws Tilly inside, a creature, that was once a young girl, lands beside him. He kicks at her naked hip with his boot, launches himself inside the car and slams the door shut. As he locks the door the ‘girl’ drags a man out onto the road and hunches over his body. With rising bile, Conrad watches as she reaches into the thorax and pulls.
“God in heaven!”
From the back seat, where she’d dragged herself in through the back door along with Caleb, Amy scrambles through to the driver’s seat. Jasmine screams as a creature launches itself at the car.
“Lock the doors, Jasmine!” she shouts. Her plea goes unheard as Jasmine continues to scream. In the back seat, Caleb clasps his hands to his ears, then stares out at the creatures grasping and grabbing the villagers. The space around the cars, the road, the grass between them and the woodlands, is a chaos of running men, women and children. Everything happened so fast. The creatures were at the treeline and then they were upon them, slashing, biting, and then – Oh, God! – eating. Pain twists in her stomach as she slides into the driver’s seat, scraping her shin. She clicks the ‘lock’ button on the key fob, then attempts to push it into the ignition. Her hands tremble and it slips.
Thud!
A pair of eyes, pooled with blood, stare at her from the other side of the windscreen. The thing squats, muscular arms set either side on the bonnet, legs splayed as it leans forward, breasts hanging.
“It’s a woman! Mum, it’s a woman.”
Ignoring him, she pushes the key into the ignition and starts the car. The thing clings like a repellent spider, eyes locked on hers, its mouth salivating. It wants to eat them; eat her, and her precious children. Rage swirls. No way, bitch!
Amy revs the engine. Presses down the clutch, slips the car into first, then releases the clutch whilst pressing down on the accelerator. The car lurches forward with a squeal of tyres. The silver Mercedes-Benz belonging to Tilly Stangton sits fifteen feet in front of her. She slams into it. The force of the impact knocks the creature off. For the first time, she’s thankful that the car is too old to be equipped with an air bag. As the monster scrabbles in the grass, Amy slams the car into reverse, swings the car round, ramming into the creature as it stands, then powers the car forward, flooring the accelerator, and heads back to the village. Jasmine continues to scream.
The Kielder Strain: A Science Fiction Horror Novel Page 19
