Dawn of the Demontide

by William Hussey

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jake smiled, ‘I thought for a moment you were a ghost.’

  ‘Cool!’

  ‘You’d like to be a ghost?’

  The boy considered. ‘I guess it would be fun, maybe for just a day. Spying on people and scaring them stupid, that’d be a laugh. I dunno though. I think it would be pretty lonely. Not like vampires—they’re dead, too, but in lots of stories they hang out together in gangs. Being a vampire would be wicked.’

  ‘Do you read many vampire stories?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got books and books at home. They’re my favourite monsters.’

  ‘Mine too,’ Jake laughed.

  ‘But they’re pretty weak, really. There’s loads of ways you can kill a vampire: put a stake through its heart, cut off its head, drown it in holy water … ’

  ‘Ah, but not all the legends are the same. Did you know that, in many stories, you would have to stake a vamp, then cut off its head and stuff its mouth with garlic to make sure it didn’t come back?’

  ‘Wow.’ The boy looked genuinely impressed. ‘Someone told me you knew loads of stuff about monsters, and you really do!’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Might’ve been your Aunt Joanna.’ The kid shrugged. ‘Or your dad. He comes to the Hollow sometimes to visit my mum. I like your dad a lot. Sometimes he brings me comics, horror comics like the ones you’ve got.’

  ‘You’ve met my dad?’

  ‘Course. But he’s not been around much lately. Where is he?’

  ‘Abroad, so they say … ’ Jake realized that the boy was still waiting for his outstretched hand to be shaken. ‘Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to leave you hanging. So, what’s your name?’

  ‘Eddie Rice.’

  ‘What are you doing up this early, Eddie?’

  ‘I’m always up early. I’m like a backwards vampire.’

  Jake laughed again.

  ‘Anyway, I saw you passing my house a few minutes ago and I thought I’d come and say hi. Sorry if I scared you. Though I am pretty psyched that I managed it, you being a hardcore horror fan and all. Which reminds me, will you come and have a look at my comic collection? I don’t think I’ve got as many as you—your dad told me you’ve got, like, millions—but maybe I’ve got a few you haven’t.’

  ‘Sure, why not?’

  Eddie Rice grinned from ear to ear and led the way down the path.

  The boys turned right out of the churchyard gate and onto a country lane. Leaving the village behind, they walked into open countryside. Cattle grazed in the fields while crows pecked at the blackberry bushes on either side of the lane.

  ‘I know why you called me Luke,’ Eddie said. ‘You know about my uncle, don’t you?’

  ‘Your uncle?’

  ‘Luke Seward. He was my mum’s brother. My mum says I have to call him “uncle” when I speak about him. Which feels strange, because I never met the guy. He died years and years ago.’

  Jake nodded. ‘I saw a picture of him in my aunt’s photo album. You really look like him.’

  ‘Your dad says I’m Luke’s “double”. They were best friends, your dad and my Uncle Luke. I reckon that’s why Adam comes and sees me whenever he’s in the Hollow. I remind him of the friend he lost.’

  ‘How did your uncle die, Eddie?’

  ‘He was murdered.’ The kid’s voice was calm, even. ‘He was thirteen years old on the night they came for him … ’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The killers. My grandparents were away for the night and the housekeeper didn’t hear a thing. They dragged him from his bed and took him down to the bay. The police said, from the footprints, it looked like there were three of them. They took Uncle Luke to Crowden’s Sorrow.’

  ‘Crowden’s … ?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s a huge cave in the bay. The killers dragged Luke into the cave and cut his throat. There was a big investigation, but they never found out who did it or why.’

  He was a sacrifice, Jake thought, butchered by Dr Holmwood and the Elders to prevent the Demontide. But how could the death of an innocent boy have stopped the Crowden Coven from achieving their victory? Having said that, how was the ‘Incu’ weapon supposed to have stopped them?

  ‘I never knew Luke but his death makes me sad,’ Eddie continued. ‘It makes me sad because it makes other people sad. My mum’s never got over it. I think that’s why my dad left us. And your dad, he really loved Luke.’

  It was so strange, this secret life Jake’s father had led. There had never been any mention of Hobarron’s Hollow or Eddie Rice, and yet it was obvious that Adam Harker had often visited the boy here. He had even brought Eddie comic books, treating him like a second son. Maybe Jake should be jealous but he couldn’t help liking the kid.

  ‘Here we are,’ Eddie said, bringing Jake out of his daydream.

  The Rice house stood at the end of a dusty track. It was a big old building made out of the same kind of irregular grey bricks as the church. On the roof, a weathervane in the shape of a cow turned in the breeze. As Jake and Eddie approached, a woman emerged from the house.

  Mrs Rice wore a tatty black dress. Fearful eyes stared out from her gaunt face.

  ‘Who is your friend, Edward?’ she asked.

  ‘This is Jake,’ Eddie said, brushing past his mother. ‘Dr Harker’s son.’

  Mrs Rice focused on Jake. Trembling hands covered her heart.

  ‘May God preserve and keep you, Jacob Harker,’ she murmured.

  * * *

  Dr Holmwood blew cigarette smoke down the receiver. The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

  ‘Saxby residence.’

  ‘Malcolm? Gordon here. You’ve reached the Hollow safely. Good. Now, we’re sure this is a secure line?’

  ‘Absolutely. There’s only Rachel in the house and she’s still asleep. No risk of anyone overhearing us.’

  ‘Excellent. Have you had a chance to assess the situation?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m afraid the initial reports were accurate, sir. The first Omen has arrived.’

  ‘Toads,’ Holmwood grumbled. ‘I hate the bloody toads! Almost as bad as the monsters, but at least their activities are restricted to the cavern. So, anyone outside the village see the beastly things?’

  ‘No one other than Jacob Harker—if you can call him an outsider. Apparently Susan Daniels and a few others made a bit of a scene in the post office, talking about omens and portents … ’

  ‘Oh God,’ Holmwood groaned.

  ‘Drake tried to cover it up as best he could. I don’t suppose it really matters: the boy must have guessed a lot of the story by now.’

  ‘I heard he was injured.’

  ‘One of the toads bit him,’ Saxby confirmed. ‘He managed to make it back to Joanna’s cottage. Alice Splane removed the poison and dressed the wound while he was sleeping. He won’t suffer any further effects. Must have had a few unpleasant dreams, though.’

  ‘Hmm. He’s damn lucky that a magical infection expert was on the scene.’

  ‘It was lucky for all of us. If his blood had been contaminated … ’

  ‘There is still hope that we may not need his blood, Dr Saxby.’

  ‘A very slim hope, sir—and growing slimmer by the hour. We’re expecting the second omen some time today; the third possibly tomorrow. This means we have only about three days until the Demontide.’

  ‘And with that in mind, I am bringing Adam Harker to the Hollow.’

  ‘What? Sir, I would strongly urge you to reconsider. Adam is not stable. What if he escaped and found the boy? What if they disappeared together? Then all would be lost.’

  ‘Adam must be there,’ Holmwood insisted. ‘He is the second-in-rank Elder. Whenever the Demontide falls, all of the Elders have to be present. You know the rules.’

  Saxby grunted. ‘Very well. But he must be kept drugged and out of the way. Especially if we need to … take desperate measures. How will you bring him?’

  ‘In a convoy of three armour-plated vehicl
es. We’ll have standard issue weapons as well as magical protection and … ’ Holmwood stopped. He thought he had heard the faintest of clicks on the line. ‘Saxby, you’re sure no one is listening in?’

  ‘Positive.’

  ‘Hmph. Probably just my nerves. Anyway, we’ll bring Adam across country via back roads. There is only one place on the route vulnerable to attack. Wykely Woods. I want several Elders to meet us at Steerpike Bridge and escort the convoy through the forest.’

  ‘When will you bring him?’

  ‘Midnight, the day after tomorrow. Be ready. Oh, and one last thing: you’d better spread the word about the second omen. Although its effects will be limited to the Hollow, we must make sure the villagers have taken the traditional precaution. God help anyone still outside when the mist rolls in.’

  Holmwood hung up.

  The doctor stubbed out his cigarette. He left his office and took the lift down into the bowels of Hobarron Tower. Leaving the lift, he walked along a long, grey corridor with fluorescent strip lights buzzing overhead. At the end of the corridor he stopped, took the keycard from his pocket and pressed it against the panel on the wall. A cobwebbed door marked—

  —groaned open.

  The doctor paced around the old laboratory. Floor to ceiling, the room was filled with scientific equipment, all of it switched off, shut down, and covered in plastic sheets. The doctor thought to himself: this place is full of ghosts. He could remember Claire and Adam Harker as young scientists, working happily here. In those days they had loved each other very deeply, but the gradual pressure of their work had destroyed that love.

  Holmwood turned and faced the box.

  It stood on a metal table in the centre of the room, numerous cables and wires snaking out of its back. The doctor approached and ran his fingers over the transparent lid. This machine had once contained their only hope of defeating the Demontide. Now Holmwood saw that it had always been a false hope. The weapon had failed, and so only one option remained.

  ‘Saxby’s right,’ Holmwood said aloud. ‘There is no other way. Jacob has to die.’

  Chapter 13

  Eclipse

  Eddie led Jake into a large hall decorated with faded portraits and tatty old tapestries. The floor had been pieced together from a jigsaw of roughhewn stone. A wooden staircase made a rickety path up to the first floor. There was something familiar about the layout of the place.

  As if answering an unasked question, Eddie said, ‘Years ago, this was the Holmwood manor house.’

  Of course. Although the construction materials were far more traditional and ancient than those used in Dr Holmwood’s luxurious house, this place had obviously been the blueprint for Green Gables.

  ‘Dr Holmwood’s family home,’ Jake said, as if speaking to himself.

  ‘He still comes here sometimes,’ Eddie nodded. ‘Says he likes to remember his roots, where he came from.’

  Holmwood, Dr Saxby, Walter Drake, my dad—they all visited this place regularly, Jake thought. The old families coming home. I wonder if the Institute organized bus trips!

  ‘That’s the man who built the house. Tiberius Holmwood.’

  Eddie pointed to a portrait at the head of the stairs. Jake immediately recognized the cropped beard and hooded eyes of the first of the Hobarron Elders. At that moment, sunlight dazzled through the windows that overlooked the great hall and shone on the dusty painting. Fascinated, Jake climbed the stairs.

  ‘After my dad left us, Dr Holmwood let me and my mum stay here rent free,’ Eddie said, following Jake up the stairs. ‘He’s been very kind to us. But … ’ Eddie blushed. ‘But I don’t … ’

  ‘You don’t trust him.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  Jake didn’t answer. He had reached the top of the stairs, his eyes rooted on the portrait.

  The trill of a telephone echoed around the great hall.

  ‘I’m just going to see if mum’s OK,’ Eddie said. ‘She’s a bit uncomfortable around strangers.’

  He trotted down the stairs. From somewhere far away, Jake heard Mrs Rice’s voice.

  ‘Holmwood Manor … Oh, it’s you. What do you want … ? Yes, I’m fully aware of what happened in the square yesterday … ’

  A door slammed and Mrs Rice could no longer be heard. Had Jake been less obsessed with the portrait, he might have sneaked within earshot of the conversation. As it was, he could not tear himself from the picture.

  The painting appeared to be an exact match for the one hanging in the corridor at Green Gables. The expression on Tiberius Holmwood’s face—prim and haughty—was the same, as was the period costume. The colours may have faded a bit, making the scene significantly darker, but that was only natural considering the painting’s age. Jake figured that this was the original from which the Green Gables version had been copied. However, there was one major difference.

  This had once been a portrait of two people.

  The second figure stood to the left of Tiberius Holmwood. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, a plain shirt, and a three-quarter length jacket. Behind the man stood a tall box, like a magician’s cabinet. That was all Jake could make out. Someone had vandalized the portrait, using black paint to mask the stranger’s face.

  Eddie bounded up the stairs.

  ‘Mum’s cool. So, you want to see my room?’

  ‘Eddie, who was this man?’ Jake pointed to the ruined face.

  ‘Beats me. I’ve asked Mum and Dr Holmwood, no one knows. Least, they say they don’t. Anyway, history’s dead boring. Come on!’

  Eddie’s room was in the attic where the servants had once slept. There was a skylight in the roof and, on a glorious summer day like this, the bedroom was warm and cosy. Jake could only imagine what it was like in the winter, with a cold wind howling off the sea and rattling the roof tiles. Apart from a bed, an old wardrobe, and a wash basin there was a plasma TV, a DVD player, and a stack of films in one corner. The modern appliances looked very out of place in this musty, cobwebbed room.

  Jake sat on the bed while Eddie dragged boxes of comics from the wardrobe. A few movie posters tacked to the wall caught his eye.

  ‘Nightmare on Slaughter Avenue, Psycho Town, All Hallow’s Eve,’ Jake said. ‘Your mum lets you watch this stuff?’

  ‘Sure,’ Eddie grinned. ‘Well, to be honest, she doesn’t know I watch ’em. She doesn’t take much interest in what I do.’

  ‘They’re a bit scary for a ten year old.’

  ‘Hey, I’m twelve.’

  ‘Sorry. But even so.’

  ‘I bet you’ve seen them.’

  ‘Well, yes, but I’m fifteen.’

  ‘And those movies are eighteen certificate. So we’re both too young.’

  ‘Touché,’ Jake smiled. ‘So, your mum. Has she always been … ’

  ‘Strange?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to say that.’

  ‘It’s cool. It’s like I said, she never got over Luke being murdered. She was only eight when it happened. They were inseparable, her and her brother, and then, one day, he wasn’t there any more. And he didn’t just disappear. He was killed in just about the most horrible way you can imagine.’

  ‘And you say they never found out who did it?’

  ‘I think my mum knows.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think it was someone close to the family. Sometimes I even think Dr Holmwood might have had something to do with it.’

  This kid’s as sharp as a tack, Jake thought. No wonder he doesn’t trust Holmwood … Must be scary for him, all alone in this house, surrounded by memories of his uncle.

  Jake imagined himself as a young kid, curled up in that bed, alert to all the strange noises of the old house. He wondered if Eddie stayed awake at night, watching the bedroom door, waiting to see if the handle would turn. One night they might come for him—the killers who had abducted and sacrificed his Uncle Luke. It struck Jake as a lonely, fearful kind of existence.

  ‘Look at these! Pretty wicked, right?’


  Eyes agleam, Eddie displayed his comics like a pirate showing off his treasure trove. Jake was quite impressed. There were a few nice reprints of Chamber of Darkness, a couple of House of Mystery editions wrapped in plastic, and a full boxed set of the Haunt of Fear. For the next hour, the boys chatted about their shared passion.

  ‘It’s a great collection,’ Jake said, picking up a copy of Haunt of Fear.

  ‘Thanks,’ Eddie beamed.

  ‘Are your mates into comics too?’

  ‘Don’t have many friends.’ Eddie’s smile died. He concentrated hard on packing his comics back into their boxes. ‘Kids at school don’t seem to like me very much. They call me names—think I’m creepy because I like horror stuff.’

  No friends. A distant, emotionally detached mother. Even an absent father. The likeness was not lost on Jake.

  The clock of St Meredith’s church struck noon. Jake swore under his breath. He had allowed himself the luxury of believing, just for a moment, that he was a normal kid again. In truth, his life was no longer normal, and he couldn’t waste time pretending that it was. He had to focus on stopping the Demontide.

  ‘Sorry, Ed, I’ve gotta make a move.’

  The boy’s face fell. ‘Really? I thought we could get some lunch and then go down to the bay. I could show you Crowden’s Sorrow.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea. What about tomorrow?’

  Eddie’s grin flashed back into place. ‘Sure. Where are you off to now?’

  ‘The Saxbys.’

  ‘Are you going to see Rachel?’

  ‘You know Rachel?’

  ‘Course. She’s my cousin.’

  Eddie explained as they climbed down out of the attic. Rachel’s mother, who had died giving birth to her, had been Eddie’s aunt. They weren’t all that close, but Rachel always popped in to see the Rices whenever she visited the Hollow.

  The boys left the dingy chill of Holmwood Manor and strode out into the sunshine.