by Adam Slater
On the other side of the glass door stood a boy of medium height and rugged build in his early teens. There was nothing eerie about this boy, apart from the fact that seconds earlier he had been a monster. Callum saw a face with broad cheekbones and tangled brown hair that was too long and standing up at the back. The face looked a little anxious around the eyes, with a crease of worry between the eyebrows. But it was just a face. A normal face.
It was his face.
Callum stood trembling in the dark, staring through the glass at a perfect replica of himself, even down to the expression of wide-eyed horror and revulsion. It was as if the creature was giving Callum a moment to realize what he was seeing.
Beware the dark reflection …
The creature that was not Callum moved suddenly, reaching for the handle of the door. Callum met the movement frantically, grabbing at the handle from the inside to make sure the door was locked—something both he and Gran often forgot. Matching hands met on the door handles on opposite sides of the glass and Callum braced himself for a desperate struggle.
At that moment a long, wild howl cut through the silence of the night, deep and powerful and rolling like thunder, and Callum recognized the voice of Doom, the Churchyard Grim.
For the first time, the creature outside produced an expression that did not reflect Callum’s. Instead, it frowned. It narrowed its eyes, glanced over its shoulder quickly, and took its hand from the door. Its look was cold and angry. Then the thing met his eyes again and smiled.
The smile turned Callum’s blood to ice. It was a look of ugly promise and anticipation. But for now, it did nothing more. Slowly, never taking its eyes off Callum’s own, the monster backed away down the garden path. Callum noticed that now the thing had taken his face, it cast a shadow too. He shivered.
Finally, with a triumphant, taunting grin, the thing with Callum’s face vanished in the black tangle of trees at the bottom of the garden, as if it had never existed.
Chapter Fifteen
Friday. It was Friday morning, thank God.
Callum trudged wearily through the corridors, hardly noticing the other kids that rushed past on either side of him, laughing and joking. His body might have been in Marlock High School, but his mind was still trapped in the moonlit cottage garden. His brain seemed stuck in a loop, replaying over and over again the terrifying moment when the monster had stolen his face. He had hardly slept, apart from an hour’s fitful dozing around dawn. The walk to school had been a waking nightmare—with imaginary monsters lurking behind every tree. But he had made it in one piece, and at least now all he had to do was get through one day of school and then he had the weekend to try to figure out what was happening to him—and how to stop it.
“Bolton’s looking for you, Scott,” Baz hissed in Callum’s ear on the way into English.
Typical. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about without having to avoid Ed Bolton—who, Callum imagined, had not spent the evening chasing ghosts and demons out of his garden. No, Ed had probably been sleeping soundly, dreaming of what he would do to Callum when he finally caught up with him. Because this morning, he was definitely on the prowl.
Callum barely avoided him between lessons, ducking into an empty classroom at the last minute as Ed marched past, his beady eyes scanning the crowd. In the middle of history, Melissa passed Callum a note that said, Don’t go to the canteen at break. Heard Ed making plans to come and find you there. Meet me in the library.
She dropped the message on Callum’s desk with such cool and quiet calm that Callum was sure no one could possibly have noticed. He was impressed by her yet again.
Then, after the lesson, Callum went to his locker and found a fearsome scrawl of ketchup still dripping down the door. Ed’s DIY decorating job was simple and ugly, but the message to Callum was crystal clear. It also brought back, harsh and sharp, the shocking bloody message of his dream, and Jacob’s warning.
“Bolton’s stylish signature, right?” said Hugh Mayes sympathetically as he arrived at his own locker. “Want a hand, Scott?”
“Thanks, but you’re better off out of it,” Callum said. He shook his scruffy hair out of his face and went to get a paper towel to wipe away the mess before one of the teachers saw it. Never in all his life had a school day dragged so slowly.
Just as there were more ghosts on the streets of Marlock lately, they also seemed to have multiplied in the halls of Marlock High School that morning. Callum saw one that must be hundreds of years older than the school itself; a man in a homemade peasant smock digging what looked like a grave outside the gym. Even from a distance, Callum could see that the man’s face was covered in sores, like a plague victim, and the cold wind that seemed to swirl about him carried the faint scent of rotten flesh.
Why were there so many of them? Why now? Callum smashed his fist against his locker in frustration, prompting a hail of giggles from a group of year eight girls on their way to lessons. Owen, the rugby team captain, slapped Callum lightly on the back. “Cool it, Scott. Nearly the weekend!” Callum nodded and forced a smile. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He didn’t want Ed to notice him.
Callum made his way quietly to the school library. Melissa was waiting for him at one of the tables, books already stacked in front of her. She looked up as Callum came in and shrugged her shoulders sadly.
“There’s a ton of stuff here about Cheshire during World War Two. But nothing about chime children. Or big black dog ghosts. You didn’t manage to bring your gran’s scrapbook, did you?”
“No such luck,” said Callum, shifting awkwardly. “I, er, couldn’t get to it.”
Truth be told, he had completely forgotten about the old book. Although it was less than a day since they had found the hidden library, the excitement of that discovery had been completely blotted out by the late-night prowler. He shivered at the memory of the moonlight glistening on its skinless body, and Melissa gave him a curious look, widening her big eyes in a wordless question.
Callum tried to excuse himself.
“I’m totally spooked by all this.”
“Yeah, I can see why. And I guess you’re not telling me the whole story either.”
“Have you tried the obvious?” Callum asked, ignoring Melissa’s probing comment. “Have you tried looking up ‘chime child’ on the Internet?”
“Yes I have, Old Smugs, and the school has got blocks and parental controls set so high that I can’t even get a search on ‘ghoul.’” It won’t let me on any sites that have anything to do with the occult. You have to get special permission from the librarian to access the BBC news, for goodness sake.”
“Huh.” Callum frowned. “Have you got a computer at home?”
“Mum has a laptop from work, but it’s about as easy to get hold of as your gran’s books. But don’t worry. How about we try Marlock Library after school? Computer access is free there, yes I have a library card, and yes they do have user restrictions, but it’s not as bad as here. Plus they probably have back issues of the Advertiser available, and they’re much more likely to have a section on local history. The school library is just too general. Not very big either. I could meet you at the end of the day.”
“Sure,” Callum agreed, wishing he could share her optimism.
He moved to his next class, his skin still crawling, counting the minutes until the school day was over. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched—of someone standing close behind him, boring into the back of his head with a fixed stare, or falling into step behind him in the halls. And it wasn’t Ed’s gang who was giving Callum this feeling. They were there, for sure, and watching him. But they weren’t being secretive about it. Whenever one of them passed Callum in the hall, they went out of their way to give him a shove with a shoulder or a gym bag; Harry pinged a rubber into the back of his head during math. No, there was something else.
At lunch, Callum went into the cafeteria at the last possible minute before the hot food finished. He hovered in the do
orway for a moment, scanning the faces at the tables. Most were half empty now, and he couldn’t see any sign of Ed through the milling crowd. But wait … for a split second, Callum thought he saw a glimpse of a familiar face. His pulse quickened. Was it Ed? He craned his neck. Then two year eight girls moved aside and suddenly he could see.
Sitting alone on the other side of the cafeteria, Callum saw himself.
He blinked and looked again. The boy’s head was turned away now. Maybe he’d been mistaken.
Then the boy turned back and met his gaze. Callum stood frozen, staring back in disbelief. It was the creature from last night—here in the school, in broad daylight.
As Callum watched, Ed’s mate Craig walked past the thing wearing Callum’s face, giving it a shove as he went. The creature didn’t react. It never took its unblinking eyes off Callum. Its stare was open and mocking, its mouth twisted in the same malevolent smirk it had fixed on its borrowed face the night before.
Callum backed slowly out of the cafeteria. Pins and needles stabbed at his palms as the creature rose to its feet and began crossing the room towards him. He waited for people to realize they were seeing double—to ask themselves how Callum could be in two places at once—but then he realized there was no chance of that. He’d worked too hard to make himself invisible to the other kids at school. They probably hadn’t noticed there was even one Callum Scott in the room, let alone two.
The monster was halfway across the cafeteria now, striding confidently forwards. Callum had retreated into the corridor. He looked right and left, his mouth dry. Whatever it was, the creature was coming for him, and this time there was nothing to protect him. There were even fewer people out here, no one to help. He turned on his heel and set off at a fast walk, his shoes squeaking on the polished floor. Maybe Mr. Gower would be in his office. Glancing over his shoulder, Callum saw his doppelganger emerge from the cafeteria. As it caught sight of him, Callum could have sworn he saw its evil smile widen in anticipation.
Callum gritted his teeth. No, whatever this thing was, it wasn’t going to be frightened off by the pompous deputy head. He quickened his pace.
Empty classrooms and closed doors whipped past. Callum glanced backwards again. The thing was still there, matching his speed. Maybe even closing in. Callum could see the rest of the school outside, enjoying the late autumn sunshine. He wanted to scream and bang on the windows to attract their attention but he didn’t dare stop.
The thing on his heels was closer now. Its eyes gleamed in the shadows of the dimly lit corridor. This corridor was off limits to students, mostly storerooms and old classrooms awaiting refurbishment. Every step was taking Callum farther and farther away from help. With a sudden jolt, he realized that this was what the creature wanted—to get him out of sight. Dread clutched at his heart. He wasn’t just being hunted, he was being herded.
A staircase was coming up fast on his left. But going up would be suicide. Callum’s only hope was to get outside, into the crowd. He felt certain now that the monster wouldn’t follow. It wanted to catch him here, where it could do whatever it wanted to him unseen. Hurrying past the stairs, Callum turned a sharp corner.
Into a dead end.
A few meters ahead, the corridor ended in a blank wall. Callum’s heart plummeted. He should have taken the stairs when he had the chance. Now he was trapped.
Or was he? At first he hadn’t noticed the peculiar ridge running across the wall at waist level. A second later, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see that the ridge was a narrow metal bar, broken in two in the middle, and that a thin line of light ran down the center of the wall, like a seam of gold.
It was a door!
Behind him, Callum heard the monster’s pursuing footsteps break into a run, as if it had sensed its prey was about to escape. Without hesitating, Callum raced forwards himself as the creature hurtled around the corner behind him.
Throwing his arms forward, Callum slammed his hands into the bar. With a metallic scream, the double doors flew open and Callum stumbled out into the bright sunlight—right into a group of startled first years.
Panting, he spun around. The monster had come to a halt just inside the door. For a moment it glared at Callum, its eyes glowing with fury. Then it turned on its heel and vanished back into the gloomy corridor.
Callum thought he saw the thing two or three times again throughout the afternoon—a fleeting glimpse of his own face on the stairs, in the hall, across the playing fields. Even though he made absolutely sure he was never left alone, by the time the last bell rang he had still been reduced to a jangle of nerves. His concentration in lessons was nonexistent. He’d even thought about skiving off the end of the day and going home early—but what would be the point? He’d probably escape Ed, but Callum didn’t think he’d get away so easily from the creature. There was safety in numbers. Ed certainly wouldn’t dare try anything while they were in a crowd, and it seemed that the face-stealing monster was also publicity-shy. Besides, Melissa would be waiting for him when classes were over. He didn’t like to think that he might be dragging her into danger, but Callum had to admit he was looking forward to her company.
She was waiting at the gate, staring into the distance as though her mind were very far away, but she snapped right back to reality when she saw Callum.
“Made it safe and sound?” she asked.
“So far,” Callum answered.
“That Ed’s a lout. Good thing he’s so dim, or he’d be frightening.”
Callum couldn’t bring himself to admit that Ed was the least of his worries. Instead, he nodded with a weak grin.
“Yeah. Let’s get moving or he’ll catch up with us.”
Hordes of ghosts were clustering in shop doorways and on the footpaths of the town—even more than usual. Melissa couldn’t see them, of course. Callum wondered if he ought to describe them to her, but decided against it. No point in making her think he was any weirder than he’d already admitted to being.
“I want to pop into the store and get a new notebook,” Melissa said. “Then we can make proper notes.”
“Are you training to be a librarian?”
“Ha-ha,” Melissa retorted sarcastically.
Because it was just outside school hours, there was a queue of kids lined up outside the store—the shopkeeper was being as rigid as always about his “two schoolchildren at a time” rule. Callum was uncomfortable about hanging about, but a few moments probably wouldn’t hurt. They were still in a public place after all. Even if Ed turned up, the shopkeeper wouldn’t let a fight take place on his stretch of pavement without calling the police. He’d done it before.
But still, it wasn’t easy to stand about in the street when you knew there was a shape-shifting monster tailing you. The tingling in his hands had faded since the nightmare chase through the school corridors, but it hadn’t gone away entirely. Callum felt sure that the creature was as hot on his trail as Ed. He looked around as he waited, searching the faces up and down the line of uniformed students. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, no face he didn’t recognize, all of them living and none of them his.
Callum wasn’t even aware he had heaved another sigh until Melissa patted him kindly on the shoulder.
“Cheer up, it’s our turn next.”
The little shop seemed empty after the jostling crowd in the street. Callum slouched by the cold drinks cabinet where he could keep an eye on the kids passing by outside. There was still no sign of Ed, or Callum’s phantom double.
“I’m finished,” Melissa said, appearing at his shoulder. She held out a Mars bar. “Got you a chocolate bar.”
Callum forced a laugh. “Typical girl—you think chocolate cures everything!”
“Can’t hurt. Come on, let’s get to the library before the enemy turns up.”
The shopkeeper-turned-bouncer stepped back to let Melissa and Callum past on their way out and beckoned to the next pair of lucky shoppers, growling the unnecessary warning: “Two. Two of you only.
”
The bell above the door chimed as Callum opened it, and as if in answer, the Friday afternoon was shattered by a piercing scream of agony.
Chapter Sixteen
The Hunter walks among the living crowd, wearing the face of its chosen victim.
Rage burns though its inhuman veins. The Hunter had its prey within its grasp, only for the victim to slip through its fingers again. What is it about this boy? He is different from the others: more cunning, more elusive. And oh, so much more powerful. The Hunter yearns to feed on that power.
It is too hungry to wait any longer. There is another chime child whose nourishing spirit the Hunter can trace. It is not as strong as the boy whose face the Hunter wears. It is one of those weaker beings born close to dawn, hardly aware of their own abilities. It will not be a satisfying meal. But it will strengthen the Hunter for the longer chase to come.
Here, now, the other victim approaches—the feeble, fearless one, escorted by another boy. Its fury still boiling within it, the Hunter confronts the human, smiling its borrowed smile.
“Look! It’s Scott, just waiting for you, Ed! And grinning like a dope. Hey, Scott, been looking for us?”
“I guess you got my message, Scott,” says the one that will make a nourishing morsel, with a nasty smile of its own. “Thanks for waiting. You coming for a chat with us? We want to hear about your freaky girlfriend. And your gyppo gran.”
The angry words mean nothing to the Hunter. It can use human speech if such speech serves a purpose, but its purpose now is simply to feed. It savors the moment when its victim stands willingly within reach, so foolishly unafraid.
“Answer me, Scott!”
A fist whips out. The Hunter brushes the flimsy hand aside.
“Come on, Ed, don’t do it here. Let’s take him along to the engine shed and give him a kicking.”
The Hunter is too hungry to toy with its prey any longer. In an instant, faster than either of the mortals can react, it attacks. Its claws rake the boy’s throat, biting into the warm flesh. Red blood sprays like a fine mist, the salt taste seeking out the Hunter’s lips. The boy staggers back, his eyes wide now with terror.
