Creeping Terror

by Justin Richards

  ‘I’d rather keep a low profile,’ Morton said. ‘He outranks me. I don’t want to intimidate him or upset him into ordering me about if I can avoid it.’

  ‘Plus, very few people know about Captain Morton’s liaison role with us,’ Knight added. ‘I’d like to keep it that way. Greene doesn’t know and doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway. Which is why I’m going to see him. Tomorrow.’

  ‘Do you need moral support?’ Growl offered.

  ‘Just Gemma, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘This guy’s an army officer,’ Maria said. ‘You need to impress him. You should take someone else as well.’

  ‘Feeling left out again?’ Rupam murmured.

  Ben didn’t think he had intended Maria to hear, but she glared at him.

  ‘I suppose that’s a fair point,’ Knight said. ‘All right, yes.’

  Maria smiled in satisfaction and glanced again at Rupam. But her triumph was short-lived.

  Because Knight said, ‘Ben, you’ll come with us. We can squeeze you in the back of the Morgan. Straight after breakfast, please. Make sure you look presentable.’

  *

  The clock by his bed said it was two in the morning. Ben didn’t know what had woken him, but he was instantly awake.

  ‘Did you hear something?’ Sam was standing at the closed door, listening. ‘There it is again.’

  Ben struggled out from under his duvet. It had become wrapped round his legs in a tangle. ‘Don’t I get any time off?’ he grumbled.

  ‘From the school or from me?’ She didn’t expect an answer. ‘Come on, let’s see what it is.’

  The sound was louder when Ben opened the door. Metallic. A clanking noise from downstairs. He tiptoed into the corridor and along to the landing.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ Sam said. ‘They might hear you.’ She spoke in a whisper, even though nobody would be able to hear her.

  Someone was in the hall. A dark figure, dressed entirely in black. Ben looked down between the banisters on the stairs, keeping out of sight as he watched. Whoever it was had knelt on the floor, facing away, their upper body in shadow. There was a large leather bag open at their feet. The metallic clanking sound came from inside as they rummaged round and rearranged the contents of the bag. The faint light gleamed on metal tools …

  It was a woman. The black bodysuit emphasised her figure as she closed the bag and stood up. Ben couldn’t see her face, but he knew who it was immediately from the collar-length white-blonde hair.

  Mrs Bailey let herself out of the house, closing the front door quietly behind her. A few moments later, Ben heard the sound of a car crunching on the gravel forecourt.

  ‘What’s she doing?’ he wondered out loud.

  But there was no one else there to hear him.

  4

  THEY WAITED FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR IN THE canteen at the army base. Soldiers came and went. Most of them ignored Ben, Gemma and Knight. But some stared openly at them, obviously wondering who they were.

  One woman in khaki uniform came over and asked them if she could help.

  ‘We’re waiting for Colonel Greene,’ Knight told her. ‘He knows we’re here, but thanks for asking.’

  ‘You might have a long wait,’ the woman confided. ‘The colonel doesn’t hurry to keep appointments with people he doesn’t want to see.’

  ‘How do you know he doesn’t want to see us?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Because he didn’t invite us to wait outside his office,’ Knight said. ‘Am I right?’ he asked the woman soldier.

  ‘Not for me to say, sir.’ Her smile said it clearly enough. ‘They’ll give you coffee if you ask.’

  Gemma and Ben chatted quietly. Knight sat in absolute silence, his eyes focused on nothing. Thinking.

  Finally, it seemed that Greene was ready to see them. A young soldier marched purposefully across the canteen straight towards them.

  ‘Call my mobile,’ Knight said quietly to Gemma. ‘Don’t let him see you do it.’

  The soldier stopped in front of the table where they were sitting. Gemma turned away, thumbing her mobile.

  ‘Mr Knight? The colonel is ready to see you now.’

  ‘So soon?’ Knight yawned, stretched and stood up. Then his mobile rang. ‘Excuse me.’ He took out his phone and checked the display, angling it away from the soldier. Beside him, Ben could see the word ‘Gemma’.

  ‘The colonel is waiting, sir,’ the soldier said with evident impatience.

  Knight flipped open his phone. ‘Sorry, I have to take this. It’s the Secretary of State. I imagine he wants to know how we’re getting on.’ He covered the end of the phone with his hand. ‘We’ll find our own way. Tell Colonel Greene we’ll be along as soon as we can. You know how these politicians like to talk.’

  Turning away, Knight lifted the phone to his ear. ‘They really don’t care who they keep waiting,’ he said. Then his tone changed to a hearty greeting: ‘Jeremy, how good of you to call … No, we haven’t yet. The colonel is very busy … apparently.’

  Knight glanced back to see the soldier marching stiffly away again. ‘Priorities, yes, I’ll be sure to mention that,’ he said loudly, before closing the phone and slipping it back into his pocket. He smiled at Gemma and Ben. ‘We’ll let the colonel wait for a bit, shall we? See how he likes it.’

  *

  After ten minutes, Knight decided they’d let Colonel Greene wait long enough. He accosted a private who led them to the colonel’s office. The soldier who’d come to get them was sitting at a desk in a small office outside. He glared at Knight and dismissed the private with a growl of reluctant thanks.

  ‘So many dead people,’ Gemma whispered to Ben as they waited again. ‘Even in the canteen. Can you feel it?’

  Ben shivered. ‘No,’ he whispered back. ‘Well, maybe.’

  The door to Greene’s office flew open to reveal the colonel standing in the doorway. He was so broad his shoulders almost touched the sides. His hair was cut close to his scalp and his huge hands were clenched into impatient fists.

  ‘Are you Knight?’ he demanded. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes.’

  ‘Thank you, Colonel.’ Knight followed Greene into the inner office, gesturing for Gemma and Ben to follow. ‘But I doubt if that’s going to be long enough.’

  ‘Long enough for me to tell you this is all baloney,’ Greene retorted. He sat behind his desk and gestured for Knight to take the seat on the other side. ‘You brought your family?’ he said, nodding at Ben and Gemma, who had taken chairs at the side of the office.

  ‘Colleagues. We recruit them young.’

  Greene frowned but made no comment. ‘You have friends in important places, Mr Knight,’ he said, angling himself so he was obviously ignoring Ben and Gemma. ‘My superiors tell me that Templeton is off limits. They tell me that even more important people in government have told them that no one goes into the village until you say so.’

  ‘If that’s what they tell you, it must be true.’

  ‘Because of a few spooks? I don’t buy that. My men aren’t scared of ghosts. They don’t run from shadows, or believe everything some halfwit tourist who got himself lost tells them. If my men go into that village, what’s the worst that can happen to them?’

  He leaned back in his chair, smiling thinly as he waited for Knight’s reply.

  ‘Tell him, Gemma,’ Knight said quietly.

  Gemma’s chair was so high her feet didn’t reach the floor. She kicked her legs as she spoke, her girlish attitude at odds with what she said.

  ‘They might see ghosts. Apparitions. Demons. But that isn’t a problem. People see them all the time. Usually kids. Probably the younger soldiers … Maybe the ghosts will see them. Maybe they’ll come after your soldiers. Maybe they’ll put ideas and thoughts in their heads, drive them crazy.’ She sniffed. ‘Perhaps they’ll make them forget who they are or why they’re there. Make them get lost, or have fits, or shoot each other.’

  The colour was slowly draining from Colonel Green
e’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Gemma hadn’t finished.

  ‘Probably we’ll never know. You’ll just find the bodies. Or more likely you won’t find anything at all. They’ll just disappear. Like ghosts. It happens. They might end up back in 1943, or they might fall through the same crack in reality all the way to Hell.’

  There was silence for several seconds. Then Greene laughed. ‘You expect me to believe that childish rubbish?’

  ‘I expect you to obey your orders and keep away from the village until my team have inspected it and declared it safe,’ Knight said. He made a point of looking at his watch. ‘Actually you were right. It didn’t take that long, did it?’ He stood up.

  ‘Wait,’ Colonel Greene barked. ‘I’m not closing down important training and manoeuvres just on the say-so of some suit and a couple of kids.’

  Knight sat down again. ‘There again …’ he murmured.

  ‘I got my orders last night, when they told me you jokers were coming. But I’d already sent a patrol into Templeton to check out what that crazy tourist and his son said.’ He leaned forward and pressed an intercom button. ‘Jenkins, has Corporal Rutherford reported back yet?’

  The reply was distorted by the speakers, but it was clear enough. ‘Just a couple of minutes ago, sir.’

  ‘Have him report to me here at once.’ Greene turned back to Knight. ‘We’ll soon find out if there’s anything weird going on in that village, Mr Knight. And since I spent a few nights of a training exercise sleeping in the churchyard there just the other week, you can take it from me – there isn’t.’

  *

  Corporal Rutherford’s uniform was spattered with mud and one sleeve was ripped. His face was scratched and dirty, with a couple of days’ stubble on his chin. He marched up to the space beside Knight in front of Colonel Greene’s desk and saluted smartly.

  ‘At ease,’ Greene said.

  ‘Sir.’ Rutherford visibly relaxed.

  ‘You and your team were in Templeton for a while, Corporal. These people are keen to know if you witnessed anything unusual.’

  Rutherford shook his head. ‘All seemed normal. Quiet of course. You’d expect that under the circumstances.’

  Knight leaned forward. ‘How did you hurt your face?’

  Rutherford’s hand went instinctively to his cheek. ‘Just a scratch, sir. Had a fight with a bramble.’ He grinned. ‘Most eventful thing that happened, actually.’

  Ben glanced at Gemma. She was frowning. Something was wrong. She caught Ben’s eye and shrugged. Something, only she didn’t know what … Ben eased his mobile phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. But there was nothing unusual about the image of the corporal on the screen.

  ‘Satisfied?’ Greene demanded of Knight. Then he spoke curtly to Rutherford. ‘Dismissed. And let me have a full report soon as you can.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Rutherford turned to go. As he did, he saw Ben holding up his phone. ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Ben quickly closed the phone and put it away. ‘Sorry. I was just …’ His voice tailed off as Knight held up his hand.

  ‘You object to being photographed?’ he asked Rutherford.

  The soldier looked at Greene, who remained impassive. ‘No problem, sir. Is that – can I ask? – is that a camera, then? Must be new. For spies and agents, is it? SOE?’

  ‘SOE?’ Greene echoed. He was frowning now too.

  ‘Special Operations Executive,’ Knight said quietly. ‘They trained and ran agents during the Second World War.’

  ‘I know,’ Greene barked. ‘You being funny, Rutherford?’

  ‘Sir?’ He seemed genuinely surprised at Greene’s anger.

  ‘Get out!’

  ‘No, wait.’ Knight’s voice was full of authority, making Rutherford freeze. Knight was holding his own mobile phone – almost identical to Ben’s. ‘You don’t know what this is, do you?’

  Greene stood up and walked slowly to the window, staring out across the base towards the woodland beyond. ‘Answer Mr Knight’s questions, soldier,’ he said. Ben could hear the tension in his voice.

  ‘It’s a camera, sir. You just said.’

  ‘I said it takes photographs. But it’s actually a mobile phone, isn’t it?’

  Rutherford’s astonishment was obvious. ‘A phone, sir? But it’s so small. There’s no connection – no wire. Like an RT, is it?’

  ‘A bit like a radio telephone, yes. Now tell me, where have you been for the last twenty-four hours or so?’

  ‘On duty in the village of Templeton, sir.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  Rutherford looked to Greene, who turned from the window and nodded. ‘Checking everything was all right. That’s it really, sir. The village has been evacuated, there’s no one there now. All quiet and normal, like I said, sir.’

  ‘You see?’ Greene said. ‘Exactly as I told you.’

  ‘It’s a funny way of saying it, though,’ Ben said. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but he’d been struck by Corporal Rutherford’s words.

  ‘Go on,’ Knight prompted.

  Ben swallowed. ‘Well, just the way he said it. “The village has been evacuated” – like it only just happened.’

  ‘And when did it happen?’ Knight asked Corporal Rutherford. ‘When exactly was the village evacuated?’

  ‘On 27 February 1943. The village of Templeton was evacuated and handed over to the War Office for training and manoeuvres.’

  ‘Satisfied?’ Greene asked.

  ‘Your man is very well informed,’ Knight said. ‘He even knows the exact date of the evacuation. Which is more than I did.’

  ‘Of course, sir,’ Rutherford told them. He gave a short, nervous laugh. ‘I mean, it was only a couple of weeks ago.’

  There was silence. Greene’s mouth had dropped open. Gemma stopped swinging her legs. Knight nodded.

  Embarrassed at the silence, Rutherford went on,

  ‘The village is empty and quiet, sir. Ready for our lads to start training properly. And now the Yanks are getting properly involved, we can really stick it to Jerry, like Mr Churchill says.’

  Knight stood up. ‘Thank you, Corporal Rutherford. That’s very helpful.’ He turned to Greene, who was looking pale. ‘I suggest you give this man and the rest of his patrol a complete medical.’

  ‘They’ll probably be fine after a good night’s sleep,’ Gemma said. ‘So long as they stay away from the village.’

  ‘But keep an eye on them anyway,’ Knight added. ‘And as I told you before, I want that village cordoned off, completely out of bounds until my team has been in and inspected it.’

  Knight strode across the room, with Gemma and Ben following close behind. He paused as he pulled open the door and turned back towards Greene.

  ‘Unless you still want to argue that there’s nothing weird going on?’ He barely paused for a reply. ‘I thought not. We’ll see ourselves out.’

  5

  BEN WAS LIVID.

  ‘There’s no point arguing with him,’ Sam whispered.

  Ben hadn’t realised she was there. His anger and frustration were focused on Knight. They were standing on the steps that led up to the front door of Gibbet Manor.

  ‘You are staying here and that’s final,’ Knight told him. ‘I need Gemma, but for this someone with more experience is essential.’

  Maria was already getting into the car – not Knight’s Morgan but a large hatchback. She gave Ben a sympathetic smile, but he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it.

  ‘After all that stuff with Colonel Greene, I want to see the village.’

  ‘Maybe you will,’ Knight told him. ‘But not just yet. Besides, I need you here. I need you and Rupam to find out everything you can about Templeton. Its history, parish records, local stories, the families who lived there – everything.’

  ‘I thought all that was classified,’ Ben grumbled.

  ‘Talk to Mrs Bailey. I asked her to see what she could dig up. And get
Webby to search the Internet – public access sites and the restricted ones too. There must be something.’

  Reverend Growl pushed past them. ‘I’m hoping there will be some records remaining in the church,’ he said. ‘I see that there’s a village school as well, which might have kept registers or local documents. From what little we do know, everyone cleared out in rather a hurry. Maybe they left a few clues behind.’ He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. ‘Can’t wait to get started.’

  Ben watched the car pull away. Gemma gave Ben a wave, but Maria, Growl and Knight ignored him.

  ‘No use standing here sulking,’ Sam said. ‘Why don’t you find Rupam and make a start on this research?’

  ‘Rupam’s probably memorised it all by now.’

  ‘Probably,’ Sam agreed. ‘But he needs you to help him understand what it all means. You’re the one who can work things through, see the connections, make the links.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Course I do. And so does Knight. That’s why he’s asked you to do it.’

  ‘He just wants to keep me busy.’

  Sam shook her head. ‘He doesn’t need to do that. There are plenty of other children here just carrying on with their classes. He could have sent you back to school. Instead he’s given you a job to do. So stop moping about and do it.’

  ‘I still wish I was going with them,’ Ben said, staring down the drive. The car was passing through the gates and disappearing out of sight.

  Sam laughed. ‘A haunted village? I bet they’ll have a really boring time. Probably won’t even see that many ghosts.’

  ‘And how many will I see, stuck here?’ Ben turned to go inside.

  ‘Let’s not get personal,’ Sam told him.

  *

  Gemma felt like a schoolgirl. Knight had told them all to dress in neutral clothes that would not have been too out of place in 1943, so she was in dark trousers and a plain white blouse. Knight had frowned at her trainers but said nothing, so she kept them on.

  The only consolation was that Maria looked just as uncomfortable in similar attire. ‘It’s all right for the men,’ she told Gemma in the back of the car.