The Beast

by Barry Hutchison

  Rosie’s face drew back into a snarl. She began to advance slowly. That was no use. I needed her running, charging at me, full speed. I’d hoped I might not need to put the second part of my plan into action, but it looked like Rosie was leaving me with no choice.

  ‘I just wanted to let you know...’ I began. With my free hand I grabbed Ameena by the front of her coat, pulled her in close to me, and kissed her. Her lips were cold and chapped and her eyes were wide with surprise. As first kisses went, it probably wasn’t an all-time classic, but considering the circumstances, I could be pretty sure I’d remember it for the rest of my life.

  I leaned back, flashed Ameena an apologetic smile, then turned to the Rosie-monster, ‘...you’re dumped.’

  That did it. She set off like a racehorse from the stalls, splitting the night with her terrible screech. The ground shook beneath us. The snow bounced into the air, as her colossal feet pounded against the pavement.

  With a final, blood-curdling scream she launched herself towards us, arms splayed wide. Shoving hard, I sent Ameena stumbling backwards. At the same time, I threw myself clear, leaving only the long broken spike of the Beast’s bone sticking up from the ground.

  Rosie’s black eyes widened as the spear-like point pierced the centre of her chest. There was a crack, then a scream, then the sound of something wet being torn in two. The bone burst through Rosie’s back and she hit the ground, face-first.

  For a moment, she flailed around, coughing and gargling as her life ebbed out on to the snow. And then, like that, she stopped.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Ameena said, her voice a hushed whisper.

  ‘We did it,’ I nodded.

  ‘What? Oh yeah, that,’ she nodded. ‘But I meant... You kissed me!’

  I turned to look at her, trying to read her face. ‘Yes. I did. Sorry.’

  She nodded. ‘So you should be,’ she said. She punched me on the arm, but I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t hit me nearly as hard as she usually did.

  ‘We did it,’ I said again. ‘And I didn’t even have to use my powers.’

  ‘Still the little problem of the infected villagers,’ Ameena reminded me.

  I sighed. ‘Don’t spoil it.’

  Billy ran up to join us. He was breathing heavily and his face was as white as the snow. ‘Did I do good?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘You were great, Billy,’ I said, but my attention was now on the creature that had once been my nan. Her breathing was shallow, her body awash with blood from her many gaping wounds.

  Before I could approach her, though, I heard a slow hand-clapping from somewhere behind us. I turned and an all-too-familiar face smirked back at me.

  ‘Bravo,’ my dad said. He was on his own, strolling casually through the snow towards us. ‘You did it, son. You actually did it.’

  ‘Son?’ Ameena muttered. ‘You mean, that’s...?’

  I nodded. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Oh, just to congratulate you, that’s all,’ he shrugged. ‘You said you wouldn’t use your abilities and you didn’t. You proved me wrong.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to help you. Face it. You’ve lost.’

  He nodded in the direction of the Beast. A grim smile played at the corners of his mouth. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one,’ he said. His expression became one of mock concern. ‘Did I follow things right? Is that really your grandmother trapped in there? I can’t imagine how upsetting that must be for you. Watching her die. As a monster. I can’t imagine.’ He cracked a smile. ‘Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I can imagine. I’m the one who arranged for her to be at your house, called the police, the whole thing. All so our little Rosie could turn her into that.’

  He blew on his fingernails and wiped them against his checked shirt. ‘Of course, you could always change her back.’

  I felt my stomach tighten. ‘What?’

  ‘With your special gift,’ he continued, smiling innocently. ‘You could change her back. Fix her. You could fix everyone. Your nan. His sister. Everyone.’

  I felt Billy go tense. ‘Lily? You could... you could help Lily?’

  I shook my head. ‘I... I...’

  My dad strolled over to where the Beast lay. She flinched, but only a little, when he rested his hand against her bruised and bloodied head. ‘Oh, what to do?’ he smirked. ‘What to do?’

  ‘Back off, scumbag,’ Ameena growled. ‘Go and crawl back under whatever rock you came from.’

  He fixed her with a long, lingering look. ‘You must be Ameena,’ he said, at last. ‘I’ve heard so much about you. In fact, I heard you got yourself bitten today.’ He scratched his head. ‘I wonder why you didn’t change,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that odd?’

  He took a pace towards her. ‘Then again, that’s not the only odd thing about you, is it, Ameena? It’s odd, for example, the way you just turned up out of the blue like that to save my son here from Mr Mumbles.’ He looked at me. ‘That’s odd, isn’t it?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, it’s—’

  ‘It’s odd how you became so loyal so quickly. How you would give your life for a boy you barely know.’

  ‘What?’ she muttered. ‘What are you...?’

  ‘It’s also odd that when he is scared, you are brave. When he is down, you raise him up. When he is lost, you’re there to find him. It’s almost like...’ A shimmer of dark delight shone behind his eyes. ‘...you were made for him.’

  He let the sentence hang there in the cold and in the dark.

  ‘And you,’ he said to me. ‘You trust her so much, and yet you know nothing about her. What’s her last name, for example?’

  I would’ve loved to tell him, to wipe the smug grin off his face, but I realised that I had no idea what Ameena’s last name was.

  ‘Don’t know?’ he asked. He turned to Ameena. ‘Go on then, you tell him. Tell us all. What’s your last name?’

  Ameena opened her mouth. A look of panic flashed across her face, but then it was gone, replaced by her usual sneer. ‘None of your business.’

  ‘When were you born, Ameena? What’s your date of birth?’

  She didn’t say anything, but there was that worried look again.

  ‘No? Let’s try something less challenging, then. Tell me, what were you doing before you hit Mr Mumbles with that baseball bat? Where were you going? Where had you been?’

  Ameena stumbled around for an answer. ‘I was... I was...’

  My dad turned and loomed over me. ‘In the garage, when you needed a light, you created a light. When you needed a weapon, you made one from nothing. A shield. A mattress. Even a dog. When you needed all these things most, your mind reached out and it made them. It made them.’

  He jabbed a finger towards Ameena. ‘Just like it made her.’

  I shook my head. I turned to Ameena, but she didn’t meet my gaze.

  ‘N-no,’ I stammered. ‘She’s real. She’s real.’

  Ameena’s mouth flapped open and closed. ‘I don’t remember,’ she whispered. ‘My name. Or... or how old I am. I... I don’t remember anything.’

  ‘No!’ I insisted. ‘You’re real. She’s real! She’s not... She’s not an imaginary friend.’

  ‘You’re damn right she’s not!’ my dad said, his voice raised. ‘I was an imaginary friend.’ He pointed to the fallen body that had once been Rosie. ‘She was an imaginary friend.’

  Ameena raised her head and looked my dad in the eye. ‘So... So what am I?’

  ‘You’re a thing,’ he told her, taking great delight in the way her face fell. ‘You’re an object, like the axe, or the lightbulb. You’re not a person, not even an imaginary one. You’re a tool designed to do a job. That’s all.’

  ‘You’re the only tool around here, mate,’ Billy said, but my dad didn’t acknowledge he’d even spoken.

  Somewhere, not too far away, I heard the howls of the screechers, and the roars they made as they mutated into Beasts. My dad heard them too. He stepped back. ‘If you’re g
oing to save your grandmother, then I suggest you get a move...’

  Down on the ground, the Beast’s body was completely still. ‘Oh,’ my dad said. ‘Whoops. It seems I’ve kept you talking too long. Still,’ he shrugged, gesturing to the whole of her twisted, malformed body, ‘I’m sure it’s what she would’ve wanted.’

  ‘N-nan?’ I said, my voice hoarse and my throat tight.

  Beside me, Ameena sat down in the snow. Her eyes were staring and her expression was blank. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear anything of what she was saying.

  A red mist of rage fell over me and I felt the sparks begin to race in anticipation. I swallowed hard and tried to remember how to breathe. ‘I know what you’re doing,’ I croaked. ‘But it won’t work. You want me to use my abilities to attack you, b-but I won’t. I won’t let you win.’

  My dad glared at me. I met his gaze and held it, not flinching, not letting him see how close I was to losing control.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said, at last. ‘It was worth a go, though, right? Can’t blame your old man for trying. But you win, son. You win. I’ll go, and I’ll leave you in peace.’

  He turned and began to walk away. I felt my heart race. I’d done it! I’d beaten—

  ‘Oh, just one thing before I do,’ he said. He turned back to face me and I saw he was holding the portable tape recorder in his hand. ‘You asked me about this earlier. Would you like to hear it?’

  I hesitated. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ he said. His thumb pushed down on the play button, and the sounds of chaos flooded out. It was just a noise to begin with, a big collective din that made no sense to my ears.

  After a moment, though, I began to pick out individual sounds. Screams. Shouts. And the beep-beep-beep of a life support machine.

  ‘...protect the patient!’ a male voice barked. ‘Don’t let him...’

  ‘...got a gun,’ a woman screamed. ‘For God’s sake, somebody—’

  BANG!

  I jumped as the sound of a gunshot blasted from the tinny speaker.

  ‘No, no, no!’ wailed the male voice. ‘Jesus Christ, someone help—’

  BANG!

  The tape went silent, aside from the beeping of the hospital machine. Then there came another sound. A voice. My dad’s voice.

  ‘Fiona,’ he said softly. ‘Fiona, wake up.’

  My whole body tensed at the sound of my mum’s name. My eyes went from the tape to his face. He winked at me and grinned his shark grin.

  ‘Fiona,’ the voice on the tape said again. ‘It’s time to get up now.’

  There came a murmur, soft and faint, and the beeping of the machine became faster.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ my dad’s voice continued. ‘Open your eyes now. Open your—’

  On the tape, I heard my mum groan. Her voice, when it came, was frail and weak, but I’d have recognised it anywhere.

  ‘Wh-where am I?’

  ‘Look at me, Fiona. Look at me.’

  I heard her let out a sharp gasp.

  ‘N-no,’ she begged. ‘Please, no, don—’

  BANG!

  Once again, the tape went silent. For a moment, there was only the sound of the cassette’s wheels squeaking around, and then he switched the machine off, and there wasn’t even that.

  I tried to scream, but no sound would come out. The sparks raged through me and the tape recorder exploded in his hand. He cried out in pain, but his face was twisted into an expression of demented delight.

  ‘Ooh, that’s it, son! That’s my boy! Punish me, make me pay for what I’ve done!’ He held his arms out wide and his whole body became engulfed by shadow. ‘Only thing is, you’re going to have to catch me first.’

  And with that, he was gone, retreating to the Darkest Corners where I had no powers, no abilities with which to protect myself.

  But I didn’t care.

  Ameena hadn’t moved. She was slumped in the snow, still staring blankly ahead. ‘Look after her,’ I told Billy in a voice that sounded nothing like my own. It wasn’t one voice at all, it was a hundred thousand voices, all talking at once, as if every one of the sparks were speaking alongside me.

  He had killed her. He had killed her right there in her hospital bed.

  I focused on a spark. The world around me became hazy and indistinct as I plunged myself into hell.

  He had killed her. He had killed my mum. And that meant only one thing.

  I was going to kill him.

  Whatever the consequences.

  Also available in the Invisible Fiends series:

  Coming soon:

  Copyright

  1

  Text copyright © Barry Hutchison 2012

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  ISBN 978-0-00-731518-5

  EPub Edition © DECEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007455393

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