Harry’s warning came too late. The rest of the hell hounds swarmed over Jerry in a never ending wave. Harry was unable to take his eyes away as flesh and fat were shorn from teenager’s bones like meat from a turkey. Razor sharp fangs pierced every inch of Jerry’s skin and turned him into a bloody skeleton. Harry thought his ears would explode at the sound of the boy’s agonised screams and was grateful that they only lasted a few seconds as the beasts tore out his throat.
Harry sobbed.
“Thank God!” Kath said finally, unlocking the door and pushing it open so hard that she fell to her knees inside. Harry couldn’t move, eyes transfixed on the beasts feeding on Jerry’s twitching body.
Harry tried to blink, but couldn’t. “They’re going to kill us all.”
“Maybe,” said Lucas, yanking him backwards through the open door. “But there’s no reason for us to make it easy for them.”
Harry took a long hard swallow. Lucas was right. After all the hits life had thrown at him, there was no way he was going to take a beating lying down. “No,” he said. “The last thing we’re going to do is make it easy for them.”
Kath locked the supermarket’s door behind them, whilst outside an army of robed demons surrounded them.
Chapter Thirty
“Damien…
“Damien, wake up.”
Damien opened his eyes, expecting light to stream in and burn his retinas; but there was only darkness. Gradually, he remembered the evening’s events. The unending snow, the power cut, and everybody freezing. He could remember no more than that at first, but when he found himself tied to a chair he began to panic as the rest came flooding back.
“Steph!”
“I’m here, Damien. I’m going to untie you, but you’ve got to stay calm. We need your help.”
“That son of a bitch knocked me out. Harry, I’m going to kill you.”
“Damien, I can only untie you if you calm down. The only reason Harry hit you was because he thought-“
“I was going rape you.”
“Yes,” said Steph. “We got it all wrong. It wasn’t you, it was-“
“Nigel!” Damien remembered finding the sick pervert about to stick it in an unconscious woman. Not just any women either: Steph. Damien was a lot of things, but he was no rapist. Sex offenders and nonces were a whole other level of scumbag, subhuman slugs. He wrenched at his wrist restraints, furious when they refused to loosen. “Where the hell is that fucker? I’m going to kill him.”
Nigel appeared from the shadows. There was blood dripping down his face. “I’m here, princess, and guess what? This time you get to watch.”
Damien strained against his ropes, unable to see what was happening as Nigel raced past him. He heard the monster taunting the girls, and them crying out in fear, but with his back to the fire place and sofa, he could see nothing more
Damien struggled at the ropes around his wrists. Come on, come on. Need to put a stop to this before it gets nasty.
The ropes were tight. So tight that the skin around Damien’s wrists was abraded and sore. Still, he began sawing his arms back and forth, trying to create enough slack that he could slip him free.
A wet slapping sound.
Damien flinched as a body fell down in front of him.
Steph lay crumpled on the floor, dazed and barely conscious, blood seeping from a wound on the bridge of her nose. She murmured something to Damien, but it passed him by. It sounded like the word ‘poker’.
Damien continued rubbing his wrists back and forth, feeling the ropes loosen a couple of millimetres.
Yes, come on. Come one!
At his feet, Damien could feel Steph squirming on the floor, slowly moving past his legs. At first he thought she was making a run for it, but a tugging sensation at his wrists made him realise she was trying to untie him.
The ropes began to loosen.
With the extra slack Damien shifted in his seat and blinked while his eyes adjusted to the scene in front of him. Nigel had Jess pinned up against the wall beside the fire, struggling back and forth as the girl held onto his wrists and did her best to keep his hands away from her. She was putting up more of a fight than Nigel had obviously expected, if his frustrated grunts were anything to go by. Damien almost smiled as he watched Jess spit and bite at Nigel’s face, doing everything she could to defend herself.
Girl was a fighter for sure.
Damien felt the ropes fall away from his wrists. A jolt shot from his knees and spread through his entire body as he leapt out of the chair. He threw himself at Nigel, landing hard against the man’s broad back. It felt like hitting a brick wall, but the blow was enough to send Nigel face first into the wall. Unfortunately, Jess was in the way and got squashed. The air exploded from her lungs in a great ‘Oooomph!’ as she fell to the floor like a puppet without strings.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Damien swung his fist.
And missed.
Nigel ducked and countered with a punch of his own. His large, meaty fist connected with Damien’s ribcage with an echoing thud! The air surged out of Damien like a whistle on a steam train; a drawn-out, strangled wheeze that seemed to go on forever. He fell to his knees in agony.
Nigel stomped towards him like a greasy-haired rhino, grunting and snorting. There was still too little air in Damien’s winded lungs to launch a defence, and he was about to resign himself to defeat when he spotted something.
The fire poker, lying on the carpet next to his feet.
Damien snatched the poker and held it in front of him. It seemed to glow in the soft light of the fire like a gift from the gods. It was salvation; a tool to knock Nigel back to the hell he came from.
Damien rose up, swinging the poker up and over his head.
The clanging sound of solid iron hitting Nigel’s skull was the most beautiful thing Damien had ever heard. It was music.
Head banging music.
Nigel staggered backwards, half-conscious already and legs wobbling like those of a flailing boxer. Damien watched the whites of the man’s eyes roll back in his head. Nigel stumbled in a daze, before losing his legs completely and falling backwards. He landed right in the open fire.
With an agonising scream, Nigel’s eyes rolled back into their normal position as agony forced his mind back into focus. The top of his head lay in the flames, as if the burning wood inside were a pillow. Immediately his skin blistered and his hair smoked. Like a greyhound out of the starting gates, Nigel leapt upwards, screaming in both pain and fury. The fire was only embers now and that was the only reason Nigel hadn’t been roasted alive. The whole thing happened so quickly that Damien couldn’t think fast enough to react to Nigel’s hurtling back towards him.
When the knife slid through Damien’s ribs, it felt like a bee sting.
Then the pain became unbearable.
***
“What in the hell is happening tonight? I mean FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck.” Harry felt like he was going to explode. He’d just watched a teenaged boy get ripped to shreds like minced beef. This on a night where the world was being consumed by a never-ending snow storm and demons stalked the streets. On top of everything, it all seemed to have something to do with him. Harry was ‘the sinner’.
“Seriously, can anybody tell me what is going on? I just watched Jerry get ripped apart by God-knows what, and now we’re trapped in a pitch-black supermarket surrounded by a bunch of homicidal monks.”
“I don’t think they’re monks,” said Kath.
“No shit!”
Lucas ambled over to the fire exit and looked out into the snow. There was movement outside, but for now the creatures outside seemed to be staying away. “I think it would be shrewd if we thought a wee bit less about what those things are out there and a mite more about how to get back to the pub with what we came for. The others need us.”
Harry let air flow slowly from his lips, trying to calm his beating heart. It didn’t work and only left him feeling more anxious. “We’re fucked,
do you know that?”
Lucas nodded. “Aye, but better to take a shagging standing up than to bend over and take it.”
The remark brought silence.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve obviously spent some time in prison, right?”
Lucas grinned. “You could say that, Harry Boy, and you wouldn’t be too far from the truth.”
“Okay,” said Kath. “Can we just do what we’re here to do? It’s even colder here than it was outside.”
Harry nodded and started moving. “Okay. Let’s get the coal, painkillers, and some food. Anything we need to take back, let’s get it all piled up over here.”
Kath and Lucas nodded and got to work. Before Lucas ran off into the darkness he saluted Harry and said, “Right away, Major Jobson.”
It was then that Harry realised something important; something he’d overlooked earlier, not once but twice. He’d never told Lucas his surname, or anybody else, so how did the man know it?
Harry looked over at Lucas and wondered if he’d been played from the beginning. Lucas knew more about Harry then he’d let on. But how?
And why?
Chapter Thirty-One
Jess finally managed to take a breath but it only make her nauseous. She’d watched helplessly as a badly-burned Nigel slid a knife into Damien’s stomach, and she was powerless now to intervene as Nigel heaved Steph’s groggy body onto a chair.
She scanned the floor for a weapon, looking for a solution, but the only thing she could see was the trusty fire poker, several feet away and out of reach. It lay near where Damien writhed on the floor, gritting his teeth against his pain. He’d tried to save her.
Jess need to reach the poker without being seen by Nigel. Even worse, she had to do it in such awful cold that her body had begun to shiver and spasm.
She would just love for Jerry and the others to come barging through the door right now and save her from this wretched nightmare. But, if tonight had taught her anything, it was not to hope for the best because things had a habit of just getting worse.
Jess started to move, crawling along awkwardly on her numb hands and trembling knees. She shivered constantly. The chill was bad enough that even the fibres of the carpet had begun to freeze. They were sharp and brittle like tiny needles digging into her palms.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Nigel said as he shook Steph by the shoulders. “I want you to be awake for this. No fun if you sleep through all the good stuff.”
Steph opened her eyes suddenly. She spat at Nigel. “Screw you!” But as soon as it arrived, the fight seemed to leave Steph. She was obviously too bruised and broken to keep it up. Nigel slapped her so hard, the sound bounced off the walls.
Jess stayed down in the shadows and winced. She continued crawling for the poker, just a few feet away now.
Nigel slapped Steph again, this time a backhand. “Spitting is very unladylike,” he shouted, “and anything unbecoming a lady will not be tolerated. If I wanted a bloke for entertainment then I would have tied Damien back up in the chair. Speaking of which, how are you big man?” Nigel turned to Damien who was still moaning on the floor. “Not such a hard man now, huh?” He took a run up and booted Damien in the chest, making him explode with fresh agony and gasp for air. Jess winced again, glad she wasn’t on the receiving end.
She carried on shuffling towards the poker. It was nearly at arm’s length now.
Almost there.
Almost…
Jess cried out as a heavy work shoe crunched down on her hand. She knew right away that she’d been too slow and that she would most likely pay for it with her life. Nigel twisted his heel and pushed down harder, cracking and bruising the delicate bones in Jess’ hand. She wailed in agony and struggled to get free.
Nigel laughed sadistically.
Jess’s screams increased as a rough hand tangled itself into her hair and yanked. The pressure on her hand was released as she was violently hoisted to her feet. She found herself face to face with Nigel. She tried to pull away.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. Now that Steph is nice and comfortable, you and me have some time on our hands.”
Jess fought to twist herself free, but it was like being held in a vice. “The others will be back at any minute,” she warned him. “You’re going to get your arse kicked, you sicko.”
Nigel smiled. “By who? Harry, the alcoholic? Jerry, the loser? Or Lucas, the thick mick? I don’t think so, sweetheart. They’re probably already dead, and if not then I’ll see to them later.”
The thought of Nigel killing the other’s filled Jess with rage. She decided to take a leaf out of Steph’s book and spat. Nigel flinched as the saliva hit his cheek and she used this opportunity to try and get free, driving her knee up as hard as she could toward Nigel’s groin. The blow missed the intended target but still managed to plant firmly in his mid-section. He staggered backwards, releasing her, as the air escaped from his lungs.
Jess made a grab for the poker, diving to the floor and reaching out with her hand. Her fingers closed around the metal and her heart skipped a beat as she realised she’d actually succeeded in getting the weapon. Now she just had to use it.
Jess leapt to her feet, poker in hand, ready to let Nigel have it.
But Nigel was gone.
Jess did a double take of the room. She knew Nigel was hiding somewhere, waiting to pounce. But from where? With the poker held out in front of her, she took a tentative step forward, expecting an attack to come at any moment. Her nerves were tattered and frayed by the constant jolts of fear. Moving past the sofa, she prepared to swing with all her might, sure that Nigel would jump out at her any second. She moved carefully, watchfully, deciding that the most effective hiding place for a killer would be behind the bar. There was only one entrance to the area behind it so, if she was quick enough, she could take Nigel out before he could manage to do anything to her. Jess slowed her pace, not relishing an encounter that was life or death.
The bar loomed closer, lit by a collection of dwindling candles. The struggling light shone on the liqueur bottles that lined the shelves, making them look like rows upon rows of crocodile teeth. The final few steps were nerve-wracking. Deep breaths, Jess. You’re ready for him. Armed and ready. Jess squeezed the poker in her right hand. Okay, here goes.
She took the final steps towards the bar and quickly sidestepped to see behind it. As she suspected, Nigel was crouched and waiting for her. What she hadn’t expected was how quick the big man would be – and how much it would hurt having a vodka bottle smashed over her head.
Jess felt the blood cascade from the top of her head in an instant. It ran into her eyes and into her mouth. She teetered backwards, legs folding as she hit the floor. Her ears picked up the heavy clunk of the poker skittering across the floor. Nigel was on her like a shot, pinning her arms down with his knees and straddling her chest. Held to her throat was the broken remnants of the Vodka bottle.
“Time to die, bitch.”
“See you in hell, you small prick mummy’s boy!”
The comment seemed to hurt Nigel and Jess started to laugh. Right now, the over-sized, sexual predator looked like an insecure little boy and she would take that satisfying image to her grave happily. Even as the jagged bottle descended towards her throat, Jess continued to cackle out loud, closing her eyes and waiting for it all to be over.
Jess had expected pain, but instead was jolted by a heavy force hitting her. She opened her eyes tentatively, and at first could not understand what had happened. Nigel had collapsed forward. Her face now buried in his fat belly. She punched and prodded at his lumpy body, trying to shove it off of her, but it wouldn’t budge. Nigel was unconscious.
What the hell had happened?
Jess finally managed to slump Nigel over to one side and slide out from underneath him. She still didn’t understand what happened, not until she saw…
“Peter! You’re okay?”
Her friend was standing over her, gripping a thick
length of firewood which dripped goblets of blood onto the floor. He smiled at her, although his ruined face made the expression look ghoulish and grim. He released the length of wood and dropped to his knees. From the floor he spoke to her. “You okay…Jess?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Thanks to you, that is.”
Peter nodded and his smile widened. Then he lost consciousness, pitching forward and hitting the floor. Jess felt like doing the same.
Chapter Thirty-Two
When Harry found a pile of children’s sledges, he thought that things were looking up, but only a little. Sure it would make getting the coal and other supplies back to the pub easier, but it didn’t change the fact that the supermarket was surrounded by monsters. To make matters worse, Harry had realised that Lucas was not who he said he was, but he decided to complete the task at hand before he confronted the man. Between the three of them they had managed to pile up more than enough coal to keep the pub fires going for a week, along with a bag full of over-the-counter painkillers. They’d even found a couple of torches and two dozen packets of batteries. Now that they were done and ready to leave, Harry was ready to confront Lucas about the secrets he was keeping.
“Lucas?”
“Yes, Harry Boy?”
“How do you know my surname?”
Lucas turned to Harry, confusion on his face. “What’s that now?”
“I said how do you know my surname? I didn’t tell you.”
Kath huffed. “Do we really have time for this, Harry? We need to get going.”
Lucas shrugged. “I didn’t realise it was such a secret, fella.”
“It’s not,” Harry admitted, “but I never told it to you.”
“The demon monks outside said it, didn’t they? They said, HARRY JOBSON YOU ARE THE SINNER. Or something like that.”
Harry thought for a moment. “No, Lucas, you knew before it before. You called me Major Jobson earlier at the pub.”
Kath looked pissed off, but at the same time seemed interested also. It appeared she wanted to see what Lucas’s answer would be.
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