‘There’s no mistake. This is exactly where Meadows said it would be.’
Morrow stared into space. ‘Where is it?’
‘Oh, I’d love to know that too.’
Shadows in Our Blood
1
Kempston, Bedfordshire
Kate had cried herself out, there were raw blotches around her puffy eyes and she sat staring at the grimy wall of the police interview room. She did not respond when Reeves entered with two steaming, plastic cups of coffee. ‘It’s piss, but at least it’s hot,’ he grinned, sitting down opposite Kate. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know.’
She turned to look at him, her grimace tainted with irony. ‘Nothing to worry about for someone who has just seen their town destroyed, you mean?’ She slid down into her chair.
‘I’m sorry – I just meant that you’re safe in here,’ Reeves said.
Kate laughed, before biting down on her lip. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, but I beg to differ.’ She sniffed away a tear.
Reeves could see she was upset, and he slightly resented it, not having the imagination to comprehend the depth of her sorrow. ‘Morrow’s an old pro. He’ll get to the bottom of this.’
‘For his sake, I hope he doesn’t,’ Kate replied.
Deep down, even Reeves knew how wrong things had become. He also had a vivid memory of the huge winged mass bolting through the smoke-stained skies of Walton.
His thoughts were broken by a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ he said.
An officer popped his head into the room. ‘Sir, Doctor Ridley’s here.’
‘Right.’ Reeves stood up. ‘Sit tight, drink your coffee. It’ll warm you up a bit. You’re lucky you didn’t catch a cold being outside for so long.’ He could not be more relieved that Ridley had reached the station. She could be someone else’s responsibility. All he wanted to do was to get out to Weepington Woods and prove to Morrow he could cut it with the big boys.
Ridley had already taken his coat off when Reeves got to the reception and asked the desk sergeant to buzz the doctor through the security entrance. ‘What took you so long?’ Reeves asked.
‘I have a family, detective. They are just as scared as everyone else. Where is she?’ Ridley tucked his trench coat tight over one arm, as if it were a restaurant waiter’s napkin.
‘This way.’ Reeves led him through the corridor to the interview rooms.
‘How’s she doing?’
‘She’s upset,’ Reeves said.
‘Upset?’
‘Hey, you’re the doctor.’ Reeves opened the door to the interview room, and as before, Kate did not move a muscle.
Ridley stepped around the table to face her. Her eyes never flickered to acknowledge his presence. He’d seen this look so many times before – an emotional detachment born out of an unwillingness to face a terrible truth. He had seen it in Jerrico’s eyes when the shivering boy first sat in his office. ‘Has she been like this since you brought her in?’ he asked.
‘She’s spoken, but she doesn’t make an awful lot of sense. She keeps drifting in and out,’ Reeves said.
‘Have you heard from Detective Morrow yet?’
‘No, not yet, but if I can leave her in your charge, I’d like to get to him.’
‘Sure – we’ll be fine.’ Ridley sat, placing both palms down on the table.
‘I’ll tell Sergeant Ludlow to keep an eye on things. Just shout him if you need anything,’ Reeves said.
‘Thank you.’
Ridley switched his focus entirely to Kate. ‘Kate, can you hear me?’
‘I know who you are. Jerrico talked about you a lot,’ she replied, never taking her eyes from the dirty wall behind him. ‘You were like a father to him.’
‘I still am,’ he smiled.
‘No. No, you’re not.’ This time, Kate did make eye contact, but the same blankness remained. ‘He has a different father now, a different family.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Ridley said.
Kate shook her head and more tears welled up in her eyes. ‘I’ve made a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. He’ll be coming for me soon.’
‘Who, Jerrico?’
‘No.’
The strip lighting above their heads flickered violently. Then a crashing sound rolled around the station. It sounded as if it was coming from the roof of the building, slicing its way down to each room.
‘What on earth was that?’ Ridley said. The lights were back on, and within seconds, two disturbed looking officers appeared at the door with Reeves, who turned and pointed towards Ridley and Kate. ‘Wait here,’ he said, and closed the door behind him.
The pounding came again. This time, it was closer, on the second floor. Whatever it was, it was heavy. Reeves took the two officers out of earshot of the interview room. ‘It could be Flynn and this cult he’s involved with. They may be attacking the station to get Miss Meadows back.’ Reeves put his hand on the shoulder of one of the officers. Feeder was experienced and seemed to be holding it together better than his colleague. ‘You come with me. We need to get to the firearms locker as quickly as we can,’ he said.
‘Keys!’ The shout came from Ludlow, the desk sergeant. He sprinted along the corridor holding a hefty bunch of keys above his head.
Reeves looked back to the other young officer and took pity on him. ‘Bentley, isn’t it?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Guard this door, Bentley – no one in or out, okay?’
‘Yes – okay,’ he replied nervously.
Ludlow reached them in a sweat. The short sprint had taken it out of the big man. He passed the keys to Reeves, who gave the desk sergeant a friendly tap on his back. ‘Go back – out front. See if you can see anything outside.’ Reeves waved him off. ‘And call help in,’ he shouted. Felston station was only twelve miles away. They could hold off whoever it was until then.
‘How did they get on the roof?’ Ludlow stammered.
Reeves did not want to consider his question. He knew the image he would conjure if he did.
‘Shh – listen.’ Bentley pointed to the ceiling. The others heard it too – the booming steps and the scraping of walls. It sounded like a wild animal crawling around in frenzy.
‘Wait for Ludlow to get back. We’re going for the guns,’ Reeves said. Bentley nodded, feeling his chest contract.
Feeder gave Bentley an envious glance as he followed behind Reeves, aware he’d drawn the shortest straw.
The locker was situated right at the back of the station. As they crept through the records room and the canteen, they were aware of how empty the station felt. Their steps echoed down the corridor to the office of Superintendant Amundson. Reeves had used to picture himself sitting behind Amundson’s desk in his comfortable high-backed chair, but not anymore.
Everything turned black all of a sudden – no flicker this time. ‘Oh, shit!’ Feeder said. The lights had gone completely. They both clung to the walls for stability and waited for their eyes to readjust.
A bright burst of light caught Reeves off guard and he shielded his face. ‘Jesus, Feeder, point that thing somewhere else,’ he said.
‘Sorry, sir.’ Feeder pointed the slim-line torch that hung from his belt in the other direction.
A crashing rang out from upstairs. They felt the structure buckle above them, as if something had just carved one of the foundation beams in two. ‘Bollocks!’ Feeder said.
‘Keep moving, and shine that torch down here.’ They were getting close to the firearms locker. Reeves fumbled through the large ring of keys, trying to read the sticky labels on each one.
‘Have you got it?’ Feeder asked, staring above his head, half-expecting something to fall through the ceiling on top of them.
‘Yes, I’ve found it.’ Reeves held the label, which said, F Locker, in the torchlight. He forced the door with caution and was greeted by darkness and the smell of damp. The sets of lockers backed onto the wall to their left. There were four in total, slim but tall, r
eaching two thirds of the way to the ceiling. Each one was padlocked. Reeves got to work, opening the nearest with a hexagon-shaped key he’d found. Another groan of destruction came from above. This time, a human scream followed. It sounded like Ludlow, but they couldn’t be sure. The locker door shuddered as he wrenched it open, and he began to remove the three MP5 machine guns. ‘Don’t just stand there gawping, constable.’
Reaching up to the higher compartment, Feeder retrieved the ammunition and the two Glock pistols stored there. He dropped the magazines and handguns carefully to the floor.
Reeves grabbed a magazine and slammed it into one of the machine guns. ‘Load those Glocks, will you,’ he said.
Feeder stood still. ‘I don’t know how to.’
‘Fine, just keep the light on them and watch the corridor.’ It did not take him long to lock and load all five weapons. He tucked the two pistols into his trousers and carried an MP5 in each hand. He passed the remaining one to his reluctant counterpart. Wide-eyed, Feeder looked on as Reeves ran through some quick pointers on what to do if he needed to use it.
Once both men had gathered all they could carry, they hurried back to the interview rooms and saw four figures waiting for them at the end of the corridor. ‘I thought I told you not to let them out of there,’ Reeves snapped.
Before Ludlow or Bentley could reply, Ridley stepped in. ‘Miss Meadows is severely traumatised. I’m not about to keep her locked up where she can’t even see her hand in front of her face. At least out here, there’s some light from the windows.’ Ridley held Kate close to him. She was cowering, almost on her knees, gazing straight up in the direction of the crawling death.
‘Okay then. Bentley, I want you to escort the doctor and Miss Meadows out of the station,’ Reeves said. Bentley stayed silent. ‘Bentley?’
‘Not a good idea, sir,’ Ludlow said, now fully recovered from his exertions.
‘Why?’
‘We heard screams coming from outside, so I sent Bentley to take a look.’
‘And?’ Reeves looked to Bentley for an explanation. The young officer’s colour had been drained from him. He was shaking, like a child standing in the rain.
‘There’s something out there.’ Bentley’s voice trembled. Whatever he had seen, it was clear that his mind had no idea how to process it. The something that he’d seen lurking by the entrance next to the entrails of his dead colleagues couldn’t be verbally communicated. If Reeves wanted any more information than that, he would have to go out there himself. Bentley certainly wasn’t prepared to walk down that particular corridor again.
Reeves didn’t press the officer on the subject. He’d experienced enough of this case to know. ‘Right, we make for the back door – all of us,’ he said.
‘There’s a van out back,’ Ludlow replied.
Reeves gave one of the MP5’s to Ludlow and placed a pistol into Bentley’s trembling hands. ‘Let’s go. Doctor, you and Miss Meadows stay between us. Ludlow, bring up the rear with Feeder. Bentley, you’re up front with me.’ Reeves didn’t entirely trust him with a weapon and wanted him as close as possible, in case he lost it and started shooting at thin air.
Their eyes had gotten used to the dark, and they found their way around without the aid of the torch. They managed to get as far as the canteen before the ceiling came crashing through behind them. Everyone froze, fearing the plaster would crack right above their heads.
‘Fuck, it landed in the records room.’ Ludlow crept towards the door in question. He could see the dust from the collapse seeping underneath the gap at the bottom of it.
‘Sergeant, wait.’ Reeves tried to wave him back, but Ludlow was already there. If something had fallen through and landed inside, it was not moving around. Ludlow could hear occasional drips from the loose plasterboard falling to the floor. He lowered his gun to his side and pressed his ear to the door.
‘Ludlow, get away from there,’ Reeves whispered.
Feeder was struggling to keep his weapon trained on the records room as it slipped in his sweaty hands. ‘I think you should listen to Reeves, Sergeant,’ he said.
‘Shh.’ Ludlow strained to hear some kind of movement – a faint clicking sound, the kind an insect would make.
‘Ludlow?’ Feeder came again.
Something slashed through the thick wood of the door, from the top right corner to the bottom left. It sliced away the crown of Ludlow’s head, halving his brain and severing the toes on his left foot as it struck the ground. The cut was clean, like piano wire cutting through a slab of butter. Ludlow, minus his body parts, collapsed to the floor in a heap, spraying fountains of blood. Feeder let rip with his MP5, peppering what was left of the door with a frenzy of bullets. His finger jammed down the trigger and he screamed over the bursts of fire with utter panic as the door continued to disintegrate under the strain.
The others could only shout out to warn him of the black, hulking mass that crawled across the ceiling from the far side of the canteen and descended to the ground behind him. Feeder could not hear a thing over the gunfire and his own screams.
The black mass landed and began to rise up when Bentley stepped forward. He held his pistol steady for the first time and fired two shots. A trained firearms officer could not have aimed more accurately, but the bullets passed through the mass as if it were an apparition, striking Feeder between his shoulder blades. Feeder stopped firing and fell like a stone onto his face. Lowering his weapon, Bentley stared at the bodies of his fellow officers in dismay.
‘Go!’ Reeves pushed Ridley and Kate in the direction of the entrance and then ran back for Bentley. Taking hold of the officer’s sweater, he yanked him away from the mass. In shock, Bentley allowed the pistol to slip out of his hands. Reeves knew they didn’t have time to go back for it. What use would it do, anyway? he thought.
The two men paused, mesmerised by the mysterious force in front of them. Although it did not have eyes to speak of, it seemed to regard them for a second, emitting a low, guttural humming sound. The sound began to resonate in the records room and on the floor above. Soon, the whole station was humming the same ominous tune. Pulling Bentley with him, Reeves turned and ran for the entrance. Neither of them dared look back, but they could feel it behind them, crawling back across the ceiling.
On reaching the next corridor, Bentley saw the exit and pushed his way past Ridley and Kate to get to it first.
‘Bentley, wait!’ Reeves couldn’t react quickly enough. As Bentley flung open the doors, something sliced him across his waist and he fell in two bloody pieces – cut down like a blade of grass. The terrified group started to backtrack.
‘This way.’ Reeves directed Ridley and Kate left, towards the holding cells. He had no idea if the secured doors would keep out the horror pursuing them, but there was nowhere left to run. Morrow was right after all. He wasn’t cut out for this. He fiddled his way through the key chain, as the volume of the humming increased and the shadows grew up around them.
‘Hurry up, hurry up,’ Kate screamed. Two pockets of the black mist emerged from either side of the corridor. They slid along the walls until they reached the ceiling, then began to stream for the holding cells.
Reeves found the right key to open the heavy deadbolt. He shoved Ridley and Kate inside and slammed the door shut behind him just as the mist descended to ground level.
Kate peered over the detective’s shoulder through the small circle of reinforced glass. The black mist retreated, leaving a trail of smoky light.
‘Looks like they can’t get in here – for now,’ Reeves said. To calm himself, he rested his forehead against the metal door that formed a barrier between them and their fate. ‘Any ideas what to do from here, doctor? I’m all out.’ Reeves could see for the first time why Morrow would get so frustrated with him. He never listened, never appreciated an experienced mind enough to learn anything. ‘Ridley, are you still with us?’
In reply, Reeves felt a dull stinging sensation at the back of his head. Kate scre
amed out and clung to him, trying to hold him upright, but his legs were giving way. The back of his head was on fire, as if someone had set light to all of his hair. His vision blurred. When he looked up into Kate’s panicked face, he realised what was happening to him. He was in the process of dying. Using the last drop of strength he had left, he reached down to the MP5 hanging from his neck by its strap and passed it to her.
Kate did not have time to get a grip on the weapon before Ridley lashed out, knocking her against the wall. She cried out, and watched as Reeves slid to the floor, a surgical scalpel sticking out from the back of his head. She was certain that the person standing over her smiling was not Ridley. She’d seen enough of the other world to know when she was staring at a piece of it. Ridley was dead.
The doctor clutched the top of his head with both hands and began tearing the skin away from his scalp. It was already loose, sliding off the-bone with ease. Kate couldn’t scream – she was too numb with fear to open her mouth. After the ripping and tearing was over, the discarded skin slithered to the ground with a wet slap and the oily body of the Ceron began closing in on her.
Sealed
1
Briaridge Orchard, Bedfordshire
The police searched in teams, sweeping every inch of Weepington woods and the fields beyond four times over. Morrow insisted upon it. Night descended, and they came across nothing suspicious except for the singed tree line, which nobody could explain or account for.
The search parties even missed the mutilated body of the master huntsman that Clover had strung upside down from the branches of the highest birch.
‘Right, that’s it – we’re wrapping this up. Your suspect has used his little girlfriend to take the piss out of us, and most importantly of all, wasted my time.’ Graystock’s patience had been stretched to its limits. He wasn’t about to entertain Morrow’s indulgencies any longer.
‘She wasn’t lying,’ Morrow said.
Infanticide (Fallen Gods Saga Book 2) Page 18
