But he gave none.
Harry took a quick breath, trying to stay calm. “Lucas, I asked you a question. Answer it, please.”
“Do you really want to do this now, Harry Boy?”
Harry’s stomach churned as he wondered whether he really did want to do this now. He had no idea who Lucas was, what he was planning, or what he was capable of.
Harry swallowed. “Yeah, I want to do this right now. Who the hell are you and how do you know me?”
Lucas walked over to the cash register and hopped up onto the desk. He took a long, deep breath. “Who I am is something we really don’t have time to get into right now, but how I know you is a little easier to explain.”
“Get started then,” Harry demanded.
Lucas shrugged. “I know you, Harry Jobson, because you’re the sinner. Same reason them outside know you – who, might I add, have nothing to do with me.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Not really, but you have my word, for what it’s worth. What happened tonight was going to happen whether I turned up or not.”
Kath stepped towards Lucas. “Who are you? What’s going on?”
Lucas looked tired of the questions already, but he still gave answers, despite sounding like he was doing them a favour. “Both are questions we don’t have time for. All I can say is that the fellas outside came for Harry. Does the ‘what’ or the ‘why’ really matter?”
“It fucking does to me,” said Harry. It felt like his stomach was going to burst open and spill his organs onto the floor. The scar on the back of his hand throbbed. It always did when he was losing control. It reminded him to keep his temper. “Why me? Why do they want me?”
“B’Jaysus, we’re going around in circles here, man. Because you’re the sinner.”
Kath shook her head. “Why is Harry ‘the sinner’?”
Harry sighed. “Because I murdered a man.”
Lucas acted as though he knew it all along – perhaps he did – but Kath recoiled in horror.
“Calm down, lass,” Lucas told her. “I’m sure he’s not intending to kill you.” He looked at Harry. “Are you?”
“No, of course not! The man I killed destroyed my life. It was revenge. There’re far worse people in the world than me,”
“I agree,” said Lucas. “In the grand scale of things, you’re pretty low down on the sin scale, but murder is murder.”
“But why did my sin cause all this? If that’s what you’re suggesting?” Harry felt dizzy. This morning he’d woken up expecting the day to end in a drunken stupor just like the 365 days preceding it. He’d never expected it to end like this.
Lucas stared at Harry intensely. His blue eyes seemed to light the darkness around him. “Because yours was the final sin. The sin what tipped the scales.”
Harry was about to demand what the hell that meant, but before he could grab Lucas around the throat and force him to speak sense, the doors blew inwards. Not a gust of wind swinging them open, but a concussive force that ripped them from their hinges and flung them across the room. The wind and snow flew in through the gap like the breath of a dragon.
Harry grabbed Lucas by the arm. “What the hell is happening?”
Lucas had to shout to be heard above the howling wind. “They’re coming to get you, Harry.”
Something didn’t make sense. “But we were safe inside the pub, they left us alone. Why?”
“They couldn’t enter the pub, but they can get at you in here. Don’t worry, though. I’m going to help you out.”
“I’m listening.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Go and get all of the skin mags.”
“What?” Kath joined them over at the cash desk. The wind had blown her dark hair into a freakish mess of tangles. “This is no time for perversions.”
“Just go and get all the smutty magazines,” Lucas reiterated. “You’ll see why.”
The monsters would be inside any minute. Harry almost slipped on a Gardening Annual as he raced over to the magazine display. On the top shelf was a long row of bikini clad women stacked three deep. Harry saw little choice but to do what Lucas had asked. He grabbed a copy of Nipples, then quickly gathered up several more rags of ill-repute, clutching the pile to his chest.
“Set the pornos down on the counter, fella,” Lucas yelled, “and pass me that broom.”
Harry did as asked. “Okay, now what?”
Lucas took the broom and placed it on the counter along with pile of magazines. He began tearing out the pages, piling up shiny images of naked men and women.
Kath had her hands on her hips. “What are you doing? We need to hurry. I can hear them out there. They’ll be in any second.”
Lucas ignored her and continued tearing pages. Eventually he stopped and grabbed a roll of Sellotape from a display. To everyone’s confusion, he then began to wrap the broom with the naked pictures before fastening them with tape.
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, Lucas, I’m all for arts and crafts, but how is this helping?”
Lucas shoved the porn-wrapped broom into Harry arms. “You’ll see. Right, that sorts out the choir. Now something for their lapdogs.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “The choir?”
“Aye, the choir. Somebody get me some salt.”
“Salt?” said Kath.
“It’ll deal with the growly fellas, trust me. Stop asking questions and get me some.”
Kath returned ten seconds later with a plastic tube of salt. She tried to offer it to Lucas, but he told her to keep it. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes,” was all he would tell her.
The sound of howling wind merged with the sound of growling.
Harry clutched the broom tightly. “Let’s just get out of here while there’s still chance.”
“Too late.” Lucas pointed over to the doorway as one of the hell hounds padded inside. Its ears flattened against its skull as it stalk towards them, snarling.
“What should I do?” Kath was holding the salt tube in front of her with a shaking hand.
“Give us a pinch,” said Lucas. He offered his open palm and waited while Kath sprinkled a pile of salt into his hand. Then he closed his fist and strolled, almost casually, towards the snarling hell hound.
The beast lowered his head, its rippling muscles tensing. Lucas carried on approaching.
Harry swallowed in anticipation. Insane. The man’s insane.
Lucas glanced back at them and nodded, as if to say ‘watch this’, then he flicked the salt from his hands, letting loose an arching stream of granules.
The beast howled like a beaten puppy.
The smell of burning filled the air, like sausages on a barbeque, along with something else...
Eggs?
No, something else.
It was sulphur.
The hound bolted, turning and running back out into the snow. It left behind a cloying puddle of dissolving flesh, sizzling like bacon the grill.
“Now we can go,” said Lucas. “We have a window.”
“What about the choir?” Harry asked.
“That’s what the broom is for. Make sure you use it when the time is right.”
“And how do I know when that is?”
“It’ll be when something starts trying to kill you.”
“Okay,” said Harry, looking out into the freezing dark night. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jess held Peter in her arms, amazed he was awake. Steph was looking after Damien, who was doing okay, considering he’d been stabbed. The blade had lodged between his ribs but hadn’t gone in more than an inch or so. Damien said it hurt like hell but that he’d be okay. He was acting too macho to let anyone take a closer look, but he had bled an awful lot to begin with. Still, he was up and about.
Nigel was out cold in the middle of the floor. They would tie him up once they’d caught their breath. For the time being, she, Steph, and Damien were ready to beat h
im down if he dared make the slightest move. Damien was currently standing over him with the fire poker in hand.
After having saved her and losing consciousness, Peter had eventually stirred back awake, semi-lucid again. Lying across Jess’s lap, his body-warmth pulsed through her clothing. He was burning up badly and she worried about his temperature being high.
“Did the bad man…hurt you…Jessica?”
“No, Peter. You saved me. You’re my hero.”
Peter smiled a grim, broken-toothed smile. “I am…sorry I let you go out alone. I…looked for you.”
“I know you did. It wasn’t your fault. No one could know what was going to happen tonight. I think it’s the end of the world. Nobody is saying it, but I don’t think the snow is going to ever stop.”
Peter closed his eyes for a few seconds and Jess worried that he would not open them again. His breathing was uneven and shallow. Jess shook him gently. “Peter, are you okay?”
He opened his eyes again. “I am…fine. The world is not ending, Jessica.”
“No?”
“No. As long as there are still beautiful things, we will be…okay.” He was looking at Jess and she realised that he meant her. “Can I…ask you…something?”
“Yes,” said Jess. “Of course you can.”
“Can I…kiss you?”
Jess was taken aback. After all Peter had been through tonight, the only thing he wanted was a kiss. And from me? Had he had feelings for her before all of this? Or was he just delirious?
“Yes, Peter,” she said, “you can kiss me.”
She leant forward but then stopped.
“Peter?”
Jess looked down at her friend and realised that he was dead. She leant down the rest of the way and placed her lips against his soft, delicate mouth. “Goodbye,” she said.
Damien noticed her tears and came over and asked if she was alright.
Steph was the one who noticed Peter lying dead on the floor. She shook her head solemnly. “I’m sorry.”
Jess nodded. “It’s okay. At least I got to say goodbye…in a way.”
Steph sighed. “Can we do anything?”
“No it’s…Shit, Nigel’s up.”
Nigel leapt from the chair, staggering about like a wounded animal. His skin was blackened, making him look like some nightmarish monster as he headed for the door.
“He’s trying to do one,” said Damien.
“Let him,” Jess said. “He can go outside and freeze.”
Nigel barged past the sofa and headed for the door. Then he was gone, disappearing into the night. Jess prayed never to see him again.
Jess snarled. “Good riddance!”
Steph put an arm around Jess. “Come on, sweetheart. We should get ourselves downstairs in front of the fire. The fire here’s about to go out and that broken window is going to freeze us to stone. Old Graham will be wondering what’s going on. I’m surprised we haven’t heard him shouting.”
“Probably still passed out drunk,” said Damien in a laboured voice.
“We’d best get down there,” Jess said. She took two steps when Damien doubled over against the bar, taking in long, laboured breaths.
“You’re still bleeding?” Jess said, spotting the blood dripping on the floor.
Damien waved a hand dismissively and Jess saw that it was soaked with blood. “Just a flesh wound,” he said and then laughed. “I always wanted to say that.”
“It’s not a joke, Damien. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.”
Steph didn’t seem convinced. Jess wasn’t either, but what could they do? Jess suspected the wound was worse than Damien was letting on. “Let’s go downstairs,” she said finally, deciding there was nothing she could do.
They gathered candles from the bar and entered the rear corridor. The air seemed no warmer there, even though it had been filled with a warm air current flowing up from the stairs for most of the night. Now it felt as cold as the rest of the pub.
Steph led the way down. They reached the bottom and darkness greeted them. Both the fire and the room’s candles had gone out. Steph quickly re-lit them with her lighter.
Old Graham’s body shone into view. Even in the poor light, the waxy blue tinge that travelled the lines of the old man’s face were clearly visible. His eyes were dull like stones.
Steph fell to her knees, dropping her candle on the cement floor where it quickly extinguished. In the darkness, Jess and Damien had no choice but to listen to her scream.
***
Outside it was as Harry had feared. They were surrounded. In all directions, the robed figures loomed over them, standing motionless, shoulder to shoulder, a towering wall of bodies. Their hounds sat in front of them obediently.
“What do we do?” asked Harry.
Lucas shoved him forward. “Just swing at the first bastard that gets near. Kath and I will handle the mutts.”
Harry willed his legs to take him forward. After several false starts, he got going. The monsters remained in place but watched him with great interest. He felt like a lowly ant beneath their stares. A low growl emanated from the hounds but they made no attempts to attack, held at heel by their robed masters.
Did Lucas really expect to take on this army with only a broom and a salt shaker? They were going to die; any other outcome seemed impossible. Still, Harry wasn’t going down without a fight. If they wanted him, they would have to take him, kicking and screaming.
Once Harry was within a dozen metres of the robed figures, the hounds at their feet became agitated, their hackles rising as they paced back and forth.
Harry glanced back at Kath. “Ready with the salt?”
Her face was as white as the snow, but she nodded.
“Bring it on,” said Lucas. He grabbed a handful of salt from Kath’s shaker and flung it into the air. The granules caught on the wind and dispersed in a thousand directions, disappearing into the blizzard.
Nothing happened.
Then the hell hounds squealed. Their skin smoked and burned, sloughing off into the snow. They hustled backwards, colliding with their robed masters, before fleeing completely into the night.
“Your turn, Harry,” said Lucas. “You need to take on the big fellas.”
Harry raised the broom like a pike. Images of naked men and women fluttered in his eye line, making him think again about how absurd this was.
The robed figured stood like giant monoliths. When one of them finally made a move, Harry’s bowels almost loosed. The very air itself seemed to shake.
The tallest of the robed figures – almost ten foot tall – approached Harry and held out a hand. Curiously, Harry noted the creature’s outstretched arm was human, yet twisted and bird-like. It pointed a finger at Lucas and hissed. “WORMWOOD.”
Lucas was grinning ear-to-ear, but not out of good nature. The expression was more of a malignant grimace. “How you doing there, Mickey? Been a while?”
Kath’s eyes went unnaturally wide. “Y-You know this…this thing?”
“Aye. We go back a ways. It’s complicated.”
“It always is with you,” said Harry.
“Now would be a good time to sweep up the trash, if you get my meaning.”
Harry looked at the broom in his hands and took a gulp of air. Here goes nothing. He stabbed the broom forwards like a lance, aiming for the robed figure’s torso. The blow got nowhere near and that seemed impossible. Harry’s target had dodged aside with an unearthly blur of speed; a glowing wisp of light that didn’t actually seem to move so much as simply disappear and reappear somewhere else.
Harry cursed out loud. “Damn it! I missed.”
“No, you didn’t,” said Lucas. “Get your bloody arse moving!”
Harry realised that his attack had left a gap in the wall of bodies. The three of them hurried, stumbling through the deep snow, clawing themselves along. Before leaving, Harry had filled his pockets with lumps of coal, and he wished he could toss them aside, but he could no
t.
Despite their earlier lack of movement, the robed figures gave chase. They screeched and wailing as they drifted through the snow. Harry swung out with his broom as one drew closer. Like its friend, it blinked out of existence and reappeared somewhere else.
“What the hell are they, Lucas?”
Lucas looked back at Harry and smiled. “They’re angels, Harry Boy
“Angels?”
“Aye, Angels, with great feathery wings, but now’s not the time. Keep on moving.”
The three of them continued making their way through the snow. The ‘Angels’ continued to screech and wail but they kept a distance. They seemed in little hurry to catch up.
“Something’s up ahead,” said Kath.
Harry saw the shadow looming ahead. “Ready with the salt?”
“Yes. Ready with broom?”
They slowed down as the shadow became clearer. It was a person, heading towards them quickly.
Kath stated the obvious. “It’s coming right at us.”
“I think it’s…a person.”
“Nigel!” Kath shouted the word gleefully. “Are we glad to see you!”
Nigel staggered through the snow, huffing and puffing and wheezing. The man had dried blood on his clothes and terrible burns on the left side of his face.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked him. “You’re hurt.”
Nigel acted feral, like an injured fox. His words were erratic and slurred. “Fwine! I’m fwine. Jush hash an asshident.”
Lucas stepped forward and placed a hand on Nigel’s shoulder. “You don’t look fine to me, fella. In fact, you look and sound worse than a chorus of drunks. What have you been up to, lad?”
Nigel lashed out, shrugging free of Lucas’s grasp. “Get sh’fuck offsh me.”
Harry didn’t like the way Nigel was acting. “What happened to you? Is Steph okay?” Nigel’s face scrunched up in a snarl at the very mention of her name. Harry spotted the bloody knife in the man’s hand. “What did you do? Did you hurt her?”
Nigel raised the knife towards Harry.
Lucas made a gesture for calm “Whoa, whoa, there, fella. We just want to know the lass is safe. Is Steph okay?”
Nigel spat blood into the snow. “You tell that bitch I’ll be back to finish what I started. I’ll slice her fucking fingers off one by one and add them to my collection. I’ll hang them from the rear view mirror of my lorry. You think she’s the first bitch to fight back. I’ve killed a hundred whores just like her.”
The BIG Horror Pack 1 Page 60
