by Amy Cross
That dream, she realizes with a sigh, is over.
Stopping in the darkness, she leans over a gravestone as her stomach suddenly seems to grind and churn. Finally, she throws up, quickly dropping to her knees as the night's food and drink is deposited onto the grass.
"Fuck," she mutters, wiping her mouth.
Slowly, and with an aching body, she hauls herself to her feet and turns to head back to the cottage.
And that's when she sees them.
She blinks a couple of times, convinced that she must be imagining the whole thing.
Finally she turns, but there are more.
Seconds later, she realizes she's surrounded. There must be ten or more of them, standing around her in a circle. Dark figures, their features hidden by shadows and their eyes burning with fire, they stare at Sam, as if they're waiting for her to make the next move.
All she can do, however, is stand frozen in place and wait for the inevitable attack.
Chapter Six
"Damn you!" Mayor Winters shouts, slamming his fist against the dashboard as the car coasts to a halt. He tries switching the engine off and on again, changing gear, pulling out the clutch... Nothing works, and finally the lights flicker off as the car comes to a complete standstill, just a couple of miles outside town.
Sighing, Winters sits in the darkness. Having kept the car stored in a private garage for a number of years, he'd assumed that it would be in pristine condition when it was finally required. He'd arranged for a mechanic to take a look now and again, but for the most part he'd been convinced that the vehicle would be perfectly reliable. Now, however, he realizes that something's gone horribly wrong and he's stranded on the dark, desolate road. Turning and glancing over his shoulder, he can just about make out Rippon in the distance, perched atop the large hill that protrudes from this otherwise flat land.
"Come on!" Winters shouts, trying in vain to get the car moving again. The engine, however, seems totally unresponsive, and all the power seems to have drained away. It's almost as if the entire battery has spontaneously emptied itself, leaving Winters sitting in a useless pile of metal.
"Right," he mutters, grabbing his mobile phone and bringing up the number of Rippon's only mechanic. "Let's see what you've got to say for yourself, you incompetent wreck," he adds, waiting for someone to answer. Finally, however, the call goes to voice-mail, and Winters slams the phone down onto the passenger seat.
Opening the door, he hauls himself out of the car and wanders around to the front. Although he's far from being a mechanically-minded man, he figures his best hope right now is to see if he can somehow work out what's gone wrong. Lifting the bonnet, however, he realizes that the task is hopeless. It's a cloudy night, affording precious little moonlight by which to work, and when he reaches out tentatively to grab a part of the engine, he merely succeeds in burning the side of his hand.
"Damn you!" he shouts again, slamming the bonnet back down. "What is the world coming to when a man can't even get a little help when he's in need? Am I to sit and rot on the side of the road?"
Turning, he looks once again at Rippon as he realizes that his only hope is to make the long, slow walk back. There are no other towns for miles and miles, and he certainly doesn't have the stamina for a long trek. At his age, and carrying a few extra pounds, even the walk up the steep hill back into Rippon is a somewhat daunting prospect, but he figures he has no choice. If he's lucky, he can get the mechanic out to the car first thing in the morning, and he can still be away by midday. Granted, his plan to get out of town without being spotted has been blown, which means he'll have to come up with some kind of excuse. Cursing his luck, he takes a deep breath before starting off on the long walk.
Hearing a noise nearby, he stops suddenly and turns to look back at the car. Although he's not usually a suspicious man by nature, he's certain he just heard something nearby, even though there's nothing to be seen. Then again, on such a dark night, it's almost impossible to make out anything. Although he's not familiar with the land around Rippon, Winters figures there certainly could be a fox or some other creature out here.
"Hello?" he says, immediately feeling a little foolish for entertaining such fears.
Smiling to himself, he turns and keeps walking, reminding himself to ensure he doesn't become too jumpy. After all, on a dark night -
Suddenly something large and dark slams against him, sending him flying across the road and bouncing along the tarmac until he comes to a rough halt. Winded and bruised, he tries to struggle to his feet, while looking back in a vain attempt to work out what, exactly, just collided with him. There's nothing around, but this time he's certain that something is out here with him on the dark road.
"Who's there?" he shouts, turning to see if anything's behind him. "Show yourself!"
Seconds later, something slams into his back, knocking him to his feet with such force that all the breath seems to be forced from his body.
"I'm the Mayor of Rippon!" Winters splutters as he gets to his feet.
Silence.
Turning, he starts hurrying toward town, only to be hit by the same invisible force, which this time sends him flying a couple of meters into the air until he comes slamming back down into the grass that runs along the side of the road.
Struggling to his feet, he's about to turn and look for his attacker when he's hit from below and sent flying up into the air. Moments later, he lands again, but this time the floor feels soft and sticky. Finding it hard to regain his balance, he reaches out and feels something large, moist and spongy beneath his feet. When he finally manages to stand up, he finds that there's some kind of soft, wet wall next to him, and quite suddenly there's an unbearable stench of rotten fish. He tries to turn around, but instead he slips and lands in a puddle of moisture. Rolling over, he looks up just in time to see the night sky appear before him, framed by a row of sharp-looking dark objects.
"Where am I?" he mutters, with a nervous laugh. "A mouth?"
After a moment, he realizes that this is exactly where he is. Reaching down, he runs his hand over the soft ground and realizes that he's on a giant tongue. He puts his hand out and touched the wall, which turns out to be the inside of the mouth, and when he looks at the night sky, he realizes that his view is obscured by rows of huge, razor-sharp teeth.
"Dear God," he says quietly. "I might not have been the most Christian of men, but I have long sought to do right by my community. I have helped many more than I have hindered, and I believe I have acted for the most part in the spirit of the common good. If a man such as myself is to be denied your love, what hope is there for the rest of humanity?"
He stares straight ahead, frozen to the spot until, finally, he realizes that he's slowly slipping down the tongue, away from the teeth. Looking over his shoulder, he realizes he's in danger of being swallowed.
"No!" he shouts, scrambling back along the tongue until, finally, he's able to reach out and hang on to one of the large teeth. Moments later, the entire mouth seems to tip up, as if the creature is trying to force him to fall down into its stomach. "Let me out of here!" Winters screams, hanging onto the tooth for dear life until, finally, the mouth slams shut, severing both his arms and sending him plummeting down into the darkness.
Despite his best efforts, Winters tumbles down a narrow, wet tube until finally he lands in some kind of small chamber. Feeling a burning sensation, he tries to get up, but blood is pouring from the stumps where his hands used to be and he has no chance of keeping his balance. He can feel his skin burning, and after a moment he realizes that the chamber is filling up with some kind of acid.
"Dear Lord!" he screams. "Why do you torture me like this? I am your loyal servant! I have never harmed another living soul! Deliver me from this cruelty!"
Desperately trying to crawl back up the tube, he quickly realizes that his bloodied stumps are preventing him from gaining any kind of purchase. As he continues to struggle, he finds that the chamber seems to be closing around him,
sealing him inside, and soon he's running short of breath. By the time he blacks out, much of his flesh has already begun to dissolve, and soon he's little more than a collection of bones and muscle, slowly being digested in the belly of the beast.
Chapter Seven
"HELP!" Sam screams, rushing toward one of the dark figures and pushing her way past. She clatters into the creature's shoulder, bouncing off and stumbling into a gravestone before losing her footing and skidding across the mud on her knees.
Without even turning to look back, she gets to her feet and starts running toward the cottage. Seconds later, however, she sees that there are more of the dark figures standing by the doorway. Coming to a halt, she stops and turns, and that's when she realizes that the entire cemetery seems to be full of these things, as if they're swarming all over the place.
Hearing a noise nearby, she spins around and sees that one of the creatures is just a few feet away. This close, she can see that it seems to have coal-black burned skin, with deep, bloodied cracks running through the surface. The eyes appear to be hollowed out, with flames burning deep within the creature's skull.
"Fuck," Sam mutters, turning and running a couple of paces before realizing that she's heading straight for another of the creatures. "Hey!" she shouts at the cottage. "Someone get out here!"
As she turns and tries to run in another direction, she realizes that the damn things are everywhere. Backing away, she reaches the cemetery wall, which at least means that there can't be anything coming up behind her. Her heart racing, Sam tries to work out what to do next as twenty, maybe thirty of the creatures slowly make their way toward her, their bodies making a kind of dry, crinkling sound as they walk.
"Anna!" Sam shouts. "Sparky!"
Turning, she sees that one of the creatures is coming closer. Flames are burning in its skull, their orange glow clearly visible through the eye sockets. There's something very calm about the way the creature seems content to come closer and closer to Sam, as if it feels completely in control.
"I'm not alone," Sam mutters, reaching into her pockets and hoping against hope that she might find something she can use as a weapon. "I've got friends in the cottage," she continues. "They'll be out any second to help me, so you should probably just give up and fuck off." Finally, she pulls the plastic bottle of vodka from her pocket. Unscrewing the lid, she briefly considers downing the remainder in a vain attempt to gain some extra courage, but at the last moment she has a better idea.
Stepping toward the nearest creature, she splashes the last of the vodka directly at its face. As she'd hoped, the vodka ignites when it hits the flames and the creature's head explodes in a shower of fire. Ducking out of the way, Sam races over to the cottage and grabs her spade, which she'd left propped against the wall earlier, and she turns just in time to see that the creatures are still following her. Even the one she attacked, its head still burning, is coming closer, as if the loss of its head is no big deal.
"I'm not afraid to use this thing," Sam says, strengthening her grip on the spade, before turning to the cottage and banging on the window. "Hey! Are you guys in there? I need some help!"
As one of the creatures gets closer, Sam swings the spade at it. To her shock, the blade connects perfectly with the neck and the creature's head is knocked to the ground. All that's left is the stump of the neck, and seconds later the creature drops to the ground.
"Great," Sam mutters. "One down, twenty or thirty to go." Stepping over to the cottage's back door, she tries the handle but finds that it's locked. "Hey!" she shouts, using the spade's handle to bang on the door for attention. "Are you guys in there? Open the fucking door!"
As more of the creatures start to come closer to the cottage, Sam realizes that she's once again being surrounded. There's something creepy about the way the creatures seem to be in no particular hurry, as if they're not worried that she might escape, and Sam can't help but worry about Anna, Sparky and Faraday. There's no way they wouldn't be able to hear her, and there's no way they'd have just got up and left the cemetery, so she starts to wonder if these creatures might have got to them first. While she was sitting in the restaurant, the others might very well have been being slaughtered.
"Fuck this," she mutters, climbing up onto one of the old trash-cans and then hauling herself up onto the cottage's roof. Holding on carefully, she moves around the side, and finally she looks down and sees that the entire cemetery seems to be filled with these creatures. They're standing all around the cottage, staring up at her with their burning eyes, and it's clear that there's no way she'd ever be able to fight her way over to the gate. Clutching her spade, she inches her way across the roof until she's on the other side of the building, but she still can't work out how the hell to get away. She's surrounded, and she knows that her spade isn't going to be much use.
Finally, figuring that she's got no choice, she decides the only solution is to get into the cottage. And if she can't climb down and go through the door, there's only one other option.
Balancing herself carefully, she turns the spade around and slams the handle down against the tiles that cover the cottage's roof. Sure enough, just as she'd suspected, the place is old and fragile, and several tiles immediately break away and fall down, smashing when they hit the ground. Bashing away at the roof, Sam quickly clears a small patch and finally finds herself facing a series of wooden boards. Determined to get inside, she takes a moment to gather as much strength as possible, and finally she starts trying to break through. This time, however, the cottage proves to be a lot stronger than it appears, and the boards don't seem to budge at all. The whole cottage is borderline derelict and falling apart, but unfortunately she seems to have found the one part that seems to still be firm and solid.
"Come on," she mutters, refusing to give up. "Just let me in!"
After a couple of minutes, and with no obvious sign that she's making any progress at all, Sam pauses for a moment and tries to catch her breath. Although she's relieved that the panic seems to have sobered her up, she can't help but glance down at the ground and see that the creatures are showing no sign of giving up. They're just standing around and watching her, although at least they don't seem able or willing to try climbing up after her. She figures they probably assume that she'll have to come down eventually. After all, there's nowhere else for her to go.
"Okay," she mutters, figuring that she needs to try a different approach. "Maybe if -"
Suddenly there's a loud creaking sound. It takes a moment before Sam realizes what's happening, and by then it's too late for her to grab hold of anything. Part of the roof starts to buckle, and finally the wood breaks beneath Sam, dropping her straight down and into one of the rooms. She lands awkwardly, immediately feeling pain in her shoulder, and she has to cover her head as pieces of wood and plaster come raining down on top of her. Finally, once she's sure that the main part of the collapse is over, she sits up and finds that she's actually landed on the kitchen table, while Anna, Faraday and Sparky are sitting nearby with shocked looks on their faces.
"Where the hell have you been?" Sam shouts.
"We were talking!" Anna replies. "What... Why didn't you use the door?"
"Didn't you hear me?" Sam shouts, turning to Faraday. "Haven't you seen out there?"
Frowning, Faraday hurries over to the window and stares out into the darkness.
"Volks," he says after a moment, before turning back to Sam. "They must have isolated the cottage so we wouldn't hear you calling for help."
"What the hell are they?" Sam asks, picking her spade up from the rubble that's covering the floor.
"Creatures of darkness," Faraday replies, making sure that the door's bolted shut. "They're harbingers of doom. When minions appear, it means they've detected the scent of great evil, and they're hoping to bathe in its glow."
"Not a good sign, then," Sam replies.
"Their appearance most certainly isn't a coincidence," Faraday continues. "Someone summoned them here. Someone lu
red them."
"How did your date go?" Anna asks.
"It wasn't a date," Sam snaps back at her.
"You smell funny," Anna continues. "Did you drink?"
"Does it matter?"
"I thought -"
"Do we really have to talk about this now?" Sam asks.
"I'll take care of this," Sparky says, walking over to join Faraday. His stone body makes a kind of grinding sound with each step, and he pauses for a moment as he reaches the door. "The rest of you should go through the hatch. I can't guarantee that there'll be much of the cottage left when I'm finished up here. This kind of job can become a little messy and I'd hate for there to be any collateral casualties."
"You can't take them on alone," Faraday replies. "There are hundreds of them out there."
"It'll take a little longer than usual," Sparky says, with no hint of emotion in his voice, "but I think we both know this shouldn't be too much of a problem."
"You can't just go out there," Sam says. "They're all full of fire and mean-looking."
"Fire and mean-looking are two things I can handle very well," Sparky replies, turning to her and smiling. "As I said, the only problem is that it might take a while, and the cottage might not survive. I'll do my best to cause as little damage as possible, but it depends how much of a fight they put up."
"Come on," Faraday says, grabbing Sam's arm and pulling her through to the bathroom. "We have to take cover. This could get very messy."
"Where are we going?" Anna asks, following as Faraday hurries to the bathroom and swings the hatch open.
"Hurry," Faraday says. "As hard as it might be to believe, we'll actually be safe down here for a while. As long as we keep out of the way, we can let Martello deal with things."
Hearing the sound of the front door opening, Sam realizes that she doesn't have any other options. Keeping hold of her spade, she starts climbing down the rickety wooden steps and finally she reaches the rocky platform below. Turning, she waits until first Anna and then Faraday have caught up. Holding a burning torch, Faraday seems particularly concerned as he looks up at the roof of the cave.
