The shop was at the far end of the street, right on the corner where this road met the next one. The street was deserted. I jogged along in the middle of the road. It made me visible to anything lurking nearby, but it also meant I’d have plenty of warning if something decided to come running at me.
Fortunately, nothing did. In no time, I was standing outside the shop. The sign above the door called it a “Supermarket”, but there was nothing super about it.
The whole shop area was barely as large as my living room and kitchen combined. There were two rows of shelves in the middle of the floor, creating three very narrow aisles that ran almost the full length of the building. On a good day, the shelves were half empty. On an average day, it was more like three-quarters.
At the back of the shop, a set of swing doors led through to the store room. I’d only been through there once, when I was much younger and needed to use the shop’s toilet. It was, if memory served, even more grim than the shop itself, with scratched and rusty metal shelving units and boxes stacked on every available surface.
The shop’s main door and window were set back into the wall, creating a little outside alcove area where the two supermarket-style trolleys were stored. I used to wonder why there weren’t more of them, until I realised the narrow aisles couldn’t handle any more traffic than that without a major pile-up happening.
Only one trolley was parked outside when I approached the window. The rotting paintwork of the wooden frame was rough beneath my fingers as I crouched down and peeked in through the grimy glass.
The shop looked no more or less messy than usual. There were wire baskets on the floor, but then there were always wire baskets on the floor. A cage stood at the far end of the middle aisle, stacked with boxes of crisps, washing powder, eggs, and more.
There was no blood. No bodies. No chaos. The shop looked like the shop always did – just a bit sort of... crap, really.
Confident there were no screechers inside, I approached the door. The handle turned without any problem, and I pushed the door open.
DING-A-LING!
The cheerful tinkle of the bell above the doorframe almost made my heart stop. The counter where Peggy stood to serve the customers was right in front of the window. I dived behind it, taking cover in case anything should come crashing through from the back store room.
I knelt there, down by the till rolls and the “Caution: Wet Floor” sign, listening to my breath rasping in and out. Idiot. I should’ve remembered the bell. If anyone was in here, then they knew I was here too.
But nothing happened in the shop to suggest anyone was here. Nothing moved along the aisles. Nothing charged through the store-room doors. Nothing at all.
I had just stood up when the hissing of radio static made me duck back down. I grabbed for the walkie-talkie. It was halfway to my ear before I remembered it was switched off.
The static continued to crackle. I searched around, eventually finding an old hi-fi system hidden behind a small sliding door beneath the till. It was switched to radio mode, but the numbers on the LED display were whirring past as it tried to pick up a signal to lock on to.
With a press of the big round power button, I switched it off. The static hiss died away, leaving the shop in silence once again. By leaning left and right at the till, I could see that all three aisles were clear. There were no screechers along any of them, and no Ameena either. All there was was the other trolley. It was down at the far end of the middle aisle, stacked high with items.
So, there was nothing interesting in the front shop, but there was still the store room. My hope of finding Ameena here was fading fast, but I had to at least go and check to see if she was through the back somewhere.
Creeping out from behind the counter, I made my way along the right-hand aisle where the frozen food was kept. I was barely past the fish fingers when the speaker on the wall above me hissed and spat.
I stopped and stared up at it, listening to the sound of radio static. A voice suddenly crackled from within the speaker. It was broken up and distorted at first, but then the radio locked on to the station and the shop was filled with a chillingly familiar tune.
If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise...
I felt my arms goosebump, as my skin turned as cold as the fish fingers beside me. No. No, it couldn’t be.
If you go down to the woods today, you’d better go in disguise...
That song. It was that song. But... how?
For every bear that ever there was, will gather there for certain because...
How many times had I heard that song? How many times had Doc Mortis played it to me when I was trapped in his hospital in the Darkest Corners? Although the more pressing question was...
Today’s the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic.
...why was it playing now?
I ran back to the till and punched the hi-fi’s power button. The display went dark and the song was cut short halfway through the next line. I watched the little display screen, counting in my head.
I had just reached “three” when the stereo system lit up again. The numbers on the frequency display rolled past. Then they came to an abrupt stop and a DJ’s voice chattered over the speakers.
‘...keep your requests coming in,’ he urged. ‘Got one here that’s just come through.’
My thumb was on the button again, about to switch it off, when the DJ stopped me.
‘It’s a message for Kyle Alexander,’ he chirped, ‘and it says “Not long now, kiddo”. Bit cryptic, that one. And that comes from... who’s that from? Where’s my—? Here it is, that’s from Kyle’s dad, and he’s asked us to play this. It’s Firestarter by—’
The radio shut itself off. I stared at the display, half-expecting it to kick in again, but the speakers stayed silent this time. Still, I was shaking as I approached the door leading to the store room. How had he turned the radio on? How had he turned it to that station just as his message to me was read out?
And why make it play The Teddy Bears’ Picnic? After everything I’d been through at the hands of Doc Mortis, just the thought of that song made my blood run cold through my veins. Had he played it to scare me? Or to tell me that Doc Mortis was somehow still alive?
A clatter from the back store pushed these thoughts from my mind, though. I was already crouching behind the counter, out of sight. I stayed there, looking around me for a weapon as the store-room doors swung open at the other end of the aisle.
Footsteps shuffled across the vinyl-covered floor. The wheels of the abandoned trolley began to squeak, reminding me of another trolley – the hospital trolley I’d been strapped to by Doc Mortis and his porters.
My heart began to race and my throat tightened, making breathing difficult. The footsteps and the squeaking were steadily drawing closer. No longer worried about drawing attention to myself now, I rummaged through the cupboards below the till, searching for something – anything – to defend myself with.
My fingers brushed against something metal. I grabbed it and stood up, holding my newly-acquired weapon out in front of me, ready to... to...
I looked at the object in my hand. Then I looked at Ameena, who was standing on the other side of the till.
‘Nice stapler,’ she said.
I let my hand fall back to my side. ‘Where the hell did you go?’ I demanded.
‘Here,’ she said, ‘obviously. And don’t worry, I’ve checked it over, there’s no one else here.’ She pointed to the laden trolley. ‘I was getting supplies. Food and stuff.’
I scowled. ‘What for?’
‘Well, you know. So we don’t starve.’
‘Yes, but...’ I shook my head. ‘You could have told me. I thought you were behind me.’
‘I did tell you,’ she protested. ‘I shouted after you, but you were screaming too loud to hear me.’
‘I wasn’t screaming!’ I said.
‘You so were,’ she smirked. ‘Like a thirteen-year-old girl at a
pop concert.’
I felt myself blush. ‘Yeah, well... I am a thirteen-year-old.’
‘But you’re not at a pop concert,’ she pointed out. ‘Or a girl.’ Her eyes went past me and her face fell. ‘Did you leave the door open?’
I turned and looked. The door stood halfway open. I’d left it like that when the bell had rung, deciding that getting to cover was more important than closing it behind me.
‘Must’ve done,’ I said. ‘Is it a problem?’
‘Probably not,’ she shrugged. ‘But come on, let’s load up and get out of here.’
I looked at her trolley. ‘I thought you already were loaded up?’
‘I was,’ she said. ‘But now you’re here, we can take twice as much.’
‘Right,’ I said. I started towards the door. ‘I’ll go get the other trolley.’
‘No, wait,’ Ameena said. She smiled and looked pleased with herself. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’
his is never going to work.’
Ameena turned to me and tutted. ‘Yes, it will. It’s genius.’
I lifted another few boxes from the shopping cart and took them outside. ‘I don’t see why we can’t just leave everything in the trolley.’
‘Because we can’t push the trolley through the snow,’ she said, stepping aside to let me back into the shop. As I picked up another bundle of supplies, she dumped her armful down on top of the plastic sledge she’d found in the store room. ‘This one’s nearly full,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and get another one. You keep watch.’
I sat the boxes down on the counter and looked out through the shop window. There had been no more snow, but the sky was thick with dark cloud. A mist seemed to be creeping its way through the village too, making it difficult to see more than a dozen metres or so in any direction. It would make our journey back to the police station difficult. And it’d make finding Nan even more so.
‘Right, here we are,’ Ameena said, barging through the swing doors. ‘I got you a nice pink one. I thought you’d appreciate...’
She stopped walking and stopped talking at the same time. She stood midway along the third aisle, the sledge in her arms, not moving.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I heard something,’ she said quietly. ‘I heard something moving.’
‘It was probably just me,’ I ventured, trying to convince myself as much as her.
Ameena shook her head. She was staring down at the gap beneath the shelving unit that ran along the wall. Little metal legs held the unit up at metre-wide intervals, but otherwise there was nothing but dark, empty space below the bottom shelf.
‘It was from over here somewhere,’ she whispered. She held the sledge out. ‘Here, come and hold this.’
Reluctantly, I moved to join her, keeping my distance from the shelves she was looking at. The sledge felt light and flimsy as I took it from her. It wasn’t until it slipped in my hand that I realised my palms were slick with sweat.
‘Is it one of them?’ I asked, my voice hushed.
‘Dunno,’ Ameena replied. ‘But it’s something.’
‘I thought you said you checked the place over when you got here?’ I said.
‘I did,’ she nodded. ‘But then someone left the front door open.’ She shot me an accusing glare, then slowly knelt down, first on to one knee, and then the other.
‘What are you doing?’ I hissed.
‘Taking a look.’
‘Why?’
‘Why not?’
I began to list off all the reasons why not, but she was already crouching down, crawling closer to the dark gap until her hands were beneath the shelves and her head was close behind.
‘Crumbs, it’s dark,’ she muttered. ‘But I don’t think there’s anything here.’ She slid forward, until her head and shoulders were lost in the gloom. ‘Nah, it looks OK.’
I smiled, relieved. ‘Well, that’s—’
‘Wait.’
I waited, expecting her to say more. But she didn’t. ‘What is it?’ I asked, suddenly nervous again.
‘There’s... I think there’s something...’
A strangled cry of shock from Ameena sent me stumbling into the shelves behind me. Tins and packets rained down on the hard floor as, at my feet, Ameena’s legs began to thrash around.
‘Help!’ she yelped. ‘Kyle, help me! Pull me out!’
I babbled something incoherent and grabbed her by the ankles. She was still kicking and squirming as I dragged her free of the gap, but her screams had stopped.
I let go of her legs as she rolled on to her back. Suddenly annoyed, I stood up and folded my arms across my chest.
‘I hate you sometimes,’ I told her.
She could barely speak for laughing. ‘I don’t know why I keep doing that,’ she giggled. Tears were running down her face and her whole body was shaking with laughter. ‘It’s just, you keep falling for it! Every time.’
‘I’m glad you think it’s funny,’ I scowled, watching her get back to her feet. ‘One of these days I’m going to have a heart attack.’
That just set her off again. Her face creased and she doubled over, holding her sides. I stood there, arms folded, not saying another word until she finally straightened up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘That was brilliant.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ I said. ‘I thought you were in trouble.’
She stopped herself laughing, but couldn’t keep the smile away from her face. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Bad joke.’
‘Yes, it was,’ I nodded. ‘Did you actually hear anything, or was the whole thing just one big wind-up?’
‘No, I did hear something,’ she shrugged. ‘That bit was real, but it was probably just a—’
The hands that shot out from beneath the shelves, they were real too. I saw them for a fraction of a second, and then they were around Ameena’s ankles. She didn’t cry out, just looked sort of puzzled as her bottom half was dragged backwards, sending the rest of her falling forwards on to the floor.
Her hands slapped the scuffed vinyl, trying to get a grip, but the hold on her legs tightened and she was dragged further into the darkness beneath the shelves.
‘Get off !’ she growled, trying to kick at her attacker. But the shelving unit was too low, making it impossible for her to move her legs enough to stick the boot in. ‘Let go of me!’
I caught her by the wrists. Her eyes met mine and I pulled. Whatever was holding on to her was strong. I planted my feet and leaned backwards, using my weight and all my strength to drag her free of the shelves.
Finally, I managed to get her all the way out. But she didn’t come out alone.
The screecher who had attacked Guggs at the crash scene had a hand around each of her ankles. His jaw dropped open and he lunged for her legs. She tried to kick, but her legs were pinned beneath him. His mouth looked wide enough to swallow the rest of his head. His black eyes glistened as his teeth began to clamp shut.
THUNK!
I rammed the end of the sledge between his jaws and his teeth bit into the pink plastic. Roaring with the effort, I shoved the sledge hard. His head bent backwards until I was sure his neck would snap. I pushed again and this time his grip slipped from Ameena’s ankles. She scrambled free just as the man’s teeth tore through the thick plastic.
Dropping the broken sledge, I backed away. Ameena was beside me, breathing heavily. She didn’t look nearly as amused as she had done a minute ago.
‘Man,’ she muttered, ‘I hate zombies.’
‘I call them... screechers,’ I told her. We were out of the aisle now, moving backwards towards the door. The man on the floor was crawling after us, dragging his injured leg behind him.
‘Why?’
As if just waiting for his cue, the man threw back his head and let out an ear-splitting screech.
Ameena looked at me. ‘Forget I asked. I think we should run. D’you think we should run?’
; I nodded. ‘I think we should run.’
And with that agreement reached, we ran.
A thick fog was closing in around us as we dashed through the snow in the vague direction of the police station. We were taking another route back to meet up with Billy and Guggs – one that didn’t put us too near the crashed cars, or the alleyways where I’d shaken off the other screechers.
‘I still say we should’ve taken the sledge,’ Ameena said, for the third time since we’d left the shop.
‘It would’ve just slowed us down,’ I said.
‘There was Battenberg cake on that sledge, Kyle. Battenberg cake.’
‘Well, I’d rather not have Battenberg cake and still be alive, wouldn’t you?’
It took Ameena a few seconds to answer. ‘Can I get back to you on that one?’
A scream came at us through the fog and we both slid to a stop. The sound had been a proper scream, not a screech or a roar or a howl. It had been human – normal human – and it had come from somewhere nearby.
‘Hear that?’ I asked.
‘Have to be deaf not to,’ Ameena nodded. ‘Any idea where it came from?’
We heard the scream again, but this time there were words along with it. ‘Help me! Someone help me, please!’
‘This way,’ I urged, continuing along the road we’d been running along. This time, I made sure I could hear Ameena’s footsteps behind me. I wasn’t going to lose her again.
‘Help! Someone... please, help!’
‘Someone’s in trouble,’ I said, racing in the direction of the screams.
‘Seriously? You think?’ she asked, the sarcasm obvious in her voice. ‘What gave that away?’
The voice screamed again, more panicked than ever. ‘No, no, please, no!’
KA-RUNCH!
Something large came rolling at us through the fog. Ameena and I threw ourselves in different directions. A dark blue car flipped through the gap between us. It bounced once more on the snowy ground, rolled again, then came to a stop on its roof.
A movement in the back of the car caught my eye. A girl hung there, upside down, struggling with the strap of her seatbelt. Her long blonde hair dangled down, brushing against the inside roof of the car.
The Beast Page 8
