by Denis Hughes
The hideous head was slightly bowed, almost as if its ponderous weight was too great for the small, slender frame that supported it. Then: “That is something I cannot answer, Tern. This hate that rides me is deep, sending me mad so that I am compelled to slay if the need arises. I do not want life, you understand; but now that I have it I shall keep it, punishing the mortal world for giving it to me.”
“I see…And us, Vivienne and I? Where do we figure in these ghastly plans?”
Again the monster was silent for a space. “Has it dawned on you,” it murmured, “that so far you are the only human beings I have spoken with at any length? I am almost inclined to look on you as friends—if such things exist. I’ve been hunted and hounded like an animal. Even now the police, working in co-operation with the military, are trying in vain to follow my trail. You, on the other hand, have learnt that it is best to show me no violence. You have that in your favour, and the fact that the woman’s brother died to give me life may be something to do with it as well. The fact remains that I do not want to kill you. Such a course would only be forced on me by circumstance. Not that I should hesitate, of course, but those are my sentiments. Of all human life, yours are probably the only ones that have any tangible meaning to me. That is all I can tell you.”
Tern considered thoughtfully. It seemed incredible that this man-made being could discuss such things so lucidly. He began to wonder if it really understood its own feelings. And wondered, too, what he himself could make out of them. If there was a weak point in the monster’s armour he must find it at all cost. Their very lives would eventually depend on overcoming it.
The creature interrupted his train of thought. “Now that we know a little better where we stand. Tern, you will oblige me by starting the engine and driving this car exactly where I tell you to. Do not forget either, that at the first sign of a trick I shall use this peculiar weapon on Vivienne.”
Tern elbowed round, facing the front. His jaw was grim and he was horribly aware of the thing that sat behind him. Aware too, of Vivienne’s silent terror at his side.
He pressed the starter button and throttled up, then glanced over his shoulder at the shadowy form of their uninvited passenger. “Where to?” he demanded curtly. “And what happens if you’re spotted in the back through no fault of mine?’’
“You will drive towards London and turn off when I tell you to. As for the rest…I hope for the girl’s sake we are not stopped. I can look after myself.”
Tern scowled, selecting second and letting in the clutch. He picked up the main road a short time later and drove at a steady thirty, blessing the darkness, for it prevented the Blue Peril being seen. Vivienne sat tense at his side, hardly daring to move a muscle. Tern stared ahead through the windscreen, driving with all the caution he knew.
“Take the next fork on the left,” came the brief command. “It is what you call a secondary road. Seven miles along it you will come to a garage. Stop there. I shall be out of sight underneath this rug so thoughtfully provided by the hirers. You would be well advised not to draw anyone’s attention to me.”
“Why stop at the garage then?”
“Because you will need a full tank of petrol; there is a long drive ahead of us, Tern.”
Tern did not inquire how the monster knew of the garage, nor of how it knew so much about the countryside as to navigate without a map. There was no need to ask because he already knew the answer. This creature was omniscient if it chose to use its powers. There was a wealth of terror in the endless possibilities opened up by that single realisation.
Tern began to pray that before long something would happen to bring an end to it all. He even toyed with the notion of crashing the car in the hope of throwing the monster off its guard for long enough to overcome it. Only the risk to Vivienne, and a sneaking doubt in his own mind that he could move swiftly enough, deterred him from trying.
The garage loomed in sight ahead, just as he had been informed it would. He glanced over his shoulder. There was no sign of the monster beyond a humped shape under the travelling rug. But a small tense hand thrust Brooking’s automatic through the narrow space between the two front seats.
“Fill up with petrol and behave quite naturally, Tern,” came the whispered order.
Tern gave a curt nod. A tow headed youth appeared in the lighted forecourt of the garage as he stopped in front of the pumps. Tern glanced at the fuel gauge; the tank was half full.
“Petrol, sir?” inquired the youth politely.
“Four please,” said Tern. From the sound of his voice it was impossible to tell that he was doing anything more than taking his girl out for an evening. But his mind was a turmoil as he struggled with the problem facing him.
The youth started one of the pumps, leading the hose to the filler cap. Tern was thinking fast, appearing relaxed. He felt the pressure of Vivienne’s knee against his own. The girl was quivering like a fettlesome horse. Then the whirr of the pump ceased and the youth came round to the driving side.
Tern felt for his wallet, racking his brains for some way of making their plight understood without letting the monster realise it. In his heart he knew there was none. And then he discovered with a shock that his wallet was missing.
Tern felt himself growing hot under the collar. He was searching his other pockets frantically now, but there was still no wallet. He only had some loose change in his trousers. Helplessly, he shot a glance at Vivienne.
“Have you got any money on you?” he said uneasily. “My wallet’s gone!”
“I haven’t!” she gasped.
The youth eyed him suspiciously, growing restless. “You mean you can’t pay?” he said flatly.
“You’ll have to take my name and address and trust me. I had several pounds but I’ve lost it. Can’t think where.”
“We’ve had your kind ’ere before,” the youth said bleakly. “That’s an old dodge, that is.” He stood close, but Tern saw him reach behind and press a bell-push three times in rapid succession. The trouble signal, he thought desperately. At any moment someone else, someone prepared to deal with shysters, would appear.
“Where do you think you lost it?” asked the youth. “Is it on the floor, or between the seats, or in the back?”
He’s keeping me talking till help arrives, thought Tern. And then to his horror the youth produced a large flash-lamp and turned on a brilliant beam of light, shining it straight into the car.
Tern acted instinctively, not waiting to consider the consequences. He had kept the engine running. It was the work of an instant to snap into gear and drive off with a violent lurch. The youth yelled some unintelligible string of invective that was drowned by the noise of the exhaust. Then the car was bounding down the road flat out as Tern pressed it hard through the gears. At any moment he was terrified he would hear the crash of the Blue Peril’s gun in a vengeful shot. Instead the creature threw off the rug that had covered it and leant over the back of the seats.
“You are a fool,” it said coldly, “but that action was at least commendably rapid. I need hardly say that it saved that person’s life in the bargain, a small point to me but more important to you. It also undoubtedly saved Vivienne. You may now proceed according to plan.”
Tern compressed his lips angrily. “Before long we shall have the police on our tail!” he snapped. “You don’t think that yokel and his friends will let us get away scot free, do you? They’ll be on the phone by now, and the odds are that he took our number as we left. He wasn’t all that dumb! You’d better think fast and make it good!”
“I am already doing so,” came the answer. “Take every turn I tell you to. We shall avoid all police activity in that way. And drive as fast as you can.”
Tern needed little encouragement. They raced on through the darkened side-roads, twisting this way and that at the direction of the Blue Peril. It was incredible how the creature did it, but certainly by the end of an hour they had seen not a soul on the roads, let alone a searching police ca
r or check point.
“I think the danger is over for the time being,” said the Monster quietly. “And what is more we have gained a lot of mileage in the right direction. You may now slow down a little and relax your nerves.”
Tern was completely lost; he had no idea where they were or where they were heading, so often and so sharply had they altered course during the last sixty minutes.
“Where are we going?” he demanded irritably. “If you’re involving us in your plans you might as well be more communicative about them.”
The hideous being leant forward between them so that Tern could see the electrode terminals on its neck and the gleam of the dash-lamp on its shining skull. He suppressed a shudder.
“We are almost at our destination,” it said. “You human beings seem to lack patience to an appalling degree.”
Tern went on driving. They were right out in the open country, fifty miles from London for all he knew. It was a long time since he had glimpsed a signpost, and even then had been too busy to read it.
Presently he was told to stop. He saw a white painted gateway alongside the selected place. A rough, unkempt drive angled off into the darkness. The monster peered out through the side window. Tern braced himself, but before he could strike it turned its head and smiled sardonically.
“Don’t try anything,” it warned. “Your thoughts are transparent. I keep a check on them occasionally.”
Tern said nothing, he was too depressed. His eyes met those of Vivienne as she stared at him helplessly.
“Drive up that track till you come to the house,” ordered the monster quietly.
Tern did as he was told; he had little choice. About a hundred yards up, standing well back in a spinney of trees, was a two storied farmhouse, gabled and half-timbered with ivy thick on its chimneys as they climbed to the sky.
“Draw up in front of the door, Tern. Keep the engine running.”
The house appeared to be in darkness. Tern stopped and waited grimly. His heart was racing and he wondered what was coming next. Whose house was this? Why were they here?
The monster opened the door and stepped out, standing by Vivienne’s window. Then he opened her door and grasped her by the arm. She gave a little cry that was bitten off short. Tern twisted round and across, only to find himself facing the gun.
“My hostage, my safety precaution, Tern,” murmured the monster. “I am going to leave you in the car for a few moments. The girl will go with me while I complete what I have to do. If you stay here and do nothing she will come to no harm. Otherwise…”
He and Vivienne started away from the car, passing in front of the radiator, heading for the front door of the farmhouse. Tern was helpless. He put his head out of the window and called.
“Wait! I’d rather come with you!”
The monster, dimly seen in the gloom, paused. “You will remain where you are,” it said flatly.
Tern stared miserably at Vivienne’s figure beside that of her captor. It did not appear to be hurting her, but retained its grip on her arm so firmly that she had no chance of breaking away. And then they had reached the door and the Being was turning the handle. The door was locked. A distant pealing of a bell from somewhere inside told of what was happening. Presently a light gleamed in the window nearest the door. A moment later there was a clatter as a bolt was shot back.
Light spilled out across the porch. Framed in the half open door was the shawled figure of an old woman. Tern heard a gasp of fear, then the monster had shot out a hand and stifled it before it rose to a scream. The old woman sagged weakly against the door jamb, slipping to the ground unconscious.
So incensed was Tern that he started to leave the car. But the monster looked back over its shoulder. The light shining on its face was sufficient to remind Tern of Vivienne’s plight. He sank back in his seat and cursed at his own impotence.
Vivienne was thrust through the doorway with the monster close on her heels. The crumpled shape of the old woman remained where she had fallen, senseless and pitiful in the patch of yellow light from the door.
And from inside the house came a swift succession of noises that jangled Tern’s nerves. A man cried out in open fear. There was a muffled report, like a shot being fired at close quarters. Furniture crashed and Tern distinctly heard Vivienne scream. He was getting out of the car again when Vivienne appeared at the open doorway of the house.
She was sobbing brokenly, still firmly grasped by the monster. And the monster was dragging another figure behind it, a figure that struggled and thrashed about like a landed fish on a line. Not that its efforts at escape seemed to worry the monster in the slightest. The immense power of its artificial muscles seemed inexhaustible.
Tern opened the car door, peering narrowly to see who the latest passenger was likely to be. With an almost physical shock he recognised the pinched features of Brooking.
CHAPTER 8
NIGHT OPERATIONS
Brooking was forcibly bundled into the back of the car. He was in a state of gibbering terror. Vivienne took her seat beside Tern again. She was so pale he thought she would faint, but her fingers closed on his hand in a reassuring way. The Blue Peril itself insinuated its diminutive form into the back alongside Brooking. The great bulbous head and cold eyes seemed to fill the entire car with an atmosphere of pure malignancy.
“Turn the car and drive off,” came the sibilant command. “Right on the road, first left, then first left again.”
Vivienne crouched in her seat, trying not to listen to the terrified mutterings of Brooking. The man seemed to sense that he was in dire peril, but was half crazed in more ways than one. Tern himself kept his peace, grim faced and full of hate against this Being in whose power they were. The night road unwound before him as he followed instructions.
Brooking fell suddenly quiet for a space. Then there was a violent convulsion in the back of the car, a cry, the sound of a sickening blow. Brooking was even quieter.
Tern glanced over his shoulder, to see the man slumped with his head lolling back against the seat squab.
“What foolish things fear puts into a man’s head,” said the monster coldly. “Imagine trying to overpower me. He will give no further trouble for some time now.”
“Have you killed him?” whispered Vivienne nervously.
“Not yet. Why do you think I went to the trouble of picking him up from his country hideout? Because I have other plans for his eventual disposal. My revenge will be complete when it comes. In the meantime he will remain with us, part of my circus of performing humans, one might almost say!” A thin, piping laugh came to them from the darkness. “You have behaved very well so far, Tern,” the voice went on. “Let us have no disappointments in the future.”
Tern permitted himself a cynical smile, unseen by his companions as the car took the second left hand bend. “Our ideas of disappointment are slightly at variance,” he replied. “Where are we going now? Or is this one of those ‘mystery rides’ so beloved by seaside charabanc proprietors?”
“Your levity is out of tune. You will continue to drive where I tell you to. And since we have a journey of several hours ahead of us I suggest that you take it steadily and conserve your strength for what is to follow.”
“You’re a sardonic devil, aren’t you?” grunted Tern.
“The next right fork will take us to a trunk road,” said the monster quietly. “We shall bypass London that way, going north. Carry straight on once you reach it. I will give you further instructions later on.”
It was one a.m. before Tern recognised approximately where they were. St. Albans lay ahead. And beyond that the great northern arteries, now alive with their constant streams of heavy transport thundering to and fro like convoys on the move.
But the monster had no intention of joining such a stream. Tern was directed to branch off, taking quieter secondary roads that were not so direct but led in the same general direction.
Tern was growing sleepy now. He only kept his mind on the ro
ad with an effort, realising that he had been on the go consistently for far too many hours without sleep. A sidelong glance at Vivienne showed that she had already succumbed. Her head lay sagged against the door beside her; her hands were limp in her lap, relaxed and at peace. He was glad, but wondered at the same time at the physical miracle that can come to the human body and bring release from strain when it reaches a certain pitch of exhaustion. He did not need to look at the monster to know that it never slept, that its vigilance was forever on the alert.
The car thrummed on through the night. Once the monster in the back told him to turn down a narrow lane. He did so obediently, not knowing the reason, hardly caring now, he was so tired. The monster said: “There is a police block along that other road. We are merely bypassing it.”
Tern summoned wakefulness enough to give a sour grin.
“You know all the answers, don’t you?” he grunted. “What happens when I fall asleep? Sort that one out!”
“You will not fall asleep,” came the answer. “If you do there will be an accident and Vivienne will die. Her life is in your hands, Tern.”
Tern grunted disconsolately.
“We have not much further to go now in any event,” went on the Blue Peril. “You will hold yourself ready for any emergency. There is likely to be some slight difficulty in the near future, but I think we shall manage. Keep driving.”
Weariness sloughed off his mind as he listened. What were they heading for?
The road unfolded in front, a grey ribbon in the flare of the headlamps. The car sped out from between long lines of fir trees. On one side now was a vast flat expanse of open land. Tern caught sight of a red flashing air beacon away in the distance. Then the bulk of a hangar showed up as well. The dark cluster of aerodrome buildings lay off to the left.
Tern furrowed his brow. This was a big R.A.F. bomber ’drome, he knew. Being a weekend pilot himself the surroundings were far from strange. He could even hear the thunder of engines away in the distance as a kite warmed up for a training flight. And a new fear expanded in his mind like a balloon being inflated,
