Luke knew that now would be the right time to leave. He’d seen first-hand what he’d set out to discover. Were they practising Satanists? He couldn’t prove that of course. But he’d seen enough in those brief minutes to convince him that Lena and Alexander had been on to something. Did a hybrid race exist? No. He couldn’t go that far. Did these people belong to some sort of elite paedophile ring?
That much he could go along with.
He waited for another ten minutes, watching the door to the mansion and its surrounding grounds, looking out for perhaps another rogue procession. When none came he made the decision to leave his cover and head for the mansion’s turreted tower. He could see that the lights were on in the very upper floors. Entering the mansion via the front door would be too risky. He started to walk across the driveway, only once glancing behind to check he wasn’t being followed. He’d had a nagging feeling since leaving Tommy behind that the boy would try something stupid and follow him to the house. Thankfully, he was wrong. The pathway behind sat empty as did the woods on either side.
Reaching the tower, Luke allowed himself to rest against its stone walls. He was breathing heavily now, the adrenaline pumping around his veins at full pelt. The door to the tower sat a few yards from where he’d stopped. As with the previous day, it still stood open, its hinges busted and worn.
“To hell with it,” he then mumbled to himself, pulling open the door and stepping inside for the second time. Once again, as he raised his head to the rooftops, he could see the rickety flight of steps winding their crooked way to the very top of the tower. There were no figures moving around at its summit this time, only the faint glow of what he took to be flickering candlelight. Tentatively, he began his first steps. Soon, he was climbing the staircase at a reasonable pace. It wasn’t long , perhaps only three minutes, before he found himself standing near the top of the flight. He took his time at that point, listening carefully for the sound of voices with each new step. None came. The vestibule at the top appeared empty. He continued his way carefully until, like yesterday, he found himself looking directly into the tower’s secret nest. There was nobody to be seen. Luke walked to the centre of the room, his eyes scanning the surrounding shadows for any sign of movement. When none came, he strolled over to where the telescope sat and placed his left eye over its viewer. At first he could see a collection of stars. As he panned the telescope slowly to the right, a small red planet came into focus. He was no astronomer, but even Luke knew he’d stumbled across Mars.
“The Nazis believed their beloved Aryan race originated from that little red planet.”
Luke spun around to find Chatterton and Marshall. Across the room, from within the shadows opposite, a tiny door was standing open, a narrow and candlelit corridor falling away behind the two men.
“You should have been more observant Luke. This house has many secret rooms and passageways,” Chatterton now spoke. He was dressed from head to toe in a long, purple robe. Marshall was dressed in the same costume. The only difference between the two men was that Marshall had pulled up his hood so that his face was almost completely hidden from view.
“You have a habit of turning up when you’re not wanted Luke. It’s an unfortunate habit you seem to have,” Chatterton went on. From Beneath his robe, Marshall had pulled out a long, wooden baton. He tapped it gently against his thigh as Chatterton continued speaking.
“Sergeant Blake told me about your encounter with him the other day. My daughter tells me that Lena is at Rose cottage as we speak too. It seems you’re not a man who can be trusted. I trust you had a good look at our friends outside Mr McGowan. I’m holding a little party this evening. We didn’t anticipate other guests.”
“Lena told me everything,” Luke whispered.
“Lena is ill.”
“I don’t think she is.”
“It’s a pity you see things that way.”
“She told me about the abuse too.”
“You really should learn to turn a blind eye Luke. What goes on in this house is of no concern to you.”
“I’m going to find out the truth Chatterton. You don’t scare me.”
Chatterton made a tiny gesture with his left hand. On cue, Marshall started towards Luke. He was grinning from ear to ear as if he’d been waiting all weekend for this very moment.
“I had a feeling you were going to say something foolish like that. It’s a shame. I was beginning to like you. I respect a man who stands up for his beliefs. You’re the sort of chap you’d want next to you in the trenches.”
As Chatterton finished speaking, a succession of men each dressed in the same red robes began to spill from the corridor behind and into the room.
“Give yourself up, Luke. You are outnumbered. There’s really nowhere for you to run,” Chatterton continued.
“I don’t give up that easy Chatterton.”
Marshall raised the baton and swung it at Luke. By a few inches, Luke managed to sidestep the attack and throw himself behind the telescope’s base. Marshal followed, tapping the baton against the telescope’s frame as he approached. The other men, eager to join the assault, began to step forward. Seeing them, Chatterton held out his hand and brought them to a standstill. It seemed Marshall had already been promised Luke’s scalp. It was only fair. Both men had previous.
“I’m going to smash you into tiny little pieces, McGowan,” Marshall sneered as he neared Luke. Luke was still cowering behind the telescope, his brain working overtime.
“I’m going to enjoy every second too,” Marshall continued, once again raising the baton high above his head. At that very moment, Luke, using all the force he could muster, kicked out at the telescope’s heavy base. It swerved violently and quickly. It moved so rapidly that Marshall did not get the time to move, the telescope’s entire weight smashing wildly into his unprotected kneecaps. Suddenly, the room filled with the sound of cracking bone. Marshall’s screams could be heard in the entire house. He collapsed on the floor, dropping the baton and clutching at his legs.
“Get him!” Chatterton ordered, waving his remaining men forward.
Luke was already climbing out the window and onto the ledge as the men sprinted across the room. The ledge was very narrow and Luke had to flatten his back against the wall of the house so as not to fall off. Far down below he could see the driveway. He could also see the pathway and the woods which surrounded the Chatterton House. He spotted something else too. He could see the figure of a young man standing at the beginnings of the driveway not a few feet from where the trees began. It seemed Tommy had decided to follow him after all. The teenager was looking directly at him. For a moment, as Luke tried to balance himself, he thought of trying to wave the boy away. He quickly abandoned the idea when he noticed Chatterton’s men scrambling onto the ledge with him. There was no time to stop. The boy would have to fend for himself. Luke began to edge himself further along the ledge, his fingers forcing themselves into the tiniest cracks to help him stay balanced. The wind was picking up now. A light rain had begun and soon, Luke feared it would grow into a wild storm. His only hope now was to reach the rooftop. Once there, he would look for some kind of stairwell that would lead him back to the driveway.
“Give yourself up, McGowan!” Chatterton now ordered, having popped his head out the window. Three of his men, the bravest, were in pursuit only a few yards behind. Like Luke, they each clung to the wall for dear life. One by one they carefully edged their way towards him. Luke ignored Chatterton’s command and, turning his head from his pursuers, continued along the wall.
“I have men everywhere, McGowan! You’re only postponing the inevitable, young man!” Chatterton continued to bellow. Seconds later, as Luke carefully rounded one of the turret’s corners, a tiny metal ladder appeared.
“Thank God,” he muttered beginning to force himself along the ledge with a little more conviction. Luke could see the ladder led up onto the rooftop. He could also see that several of its steps, having been worn down by the ele
ments over the years, had simply fallen away. He would have to take his time. Cautiously, he edged himself towards the metal ladder. Once or twice his foot would slip, break off a piece of the ledge and send a cascade of tiny rocks into the driveway below. The driveway was no longer empty. Some of Chatterton’s men were now present watching the unfolding scene play out above their heads. Luke was sure that every one of them was willing him to fall. He was damned if he was going to give them that pleasure and pulled himself further along the ledge. Quite soon, having reached the ladder, he began to haul himself up. He was almost halfway when he felt a hand grab his ankle. He turned sharply almost losing his grip to find one of Chatterton’s men holding onto his foot.
“Get the hell off!” Luke yelled driving the heel of his boot into the man’s face. For a split second, the man’s hood fell away. As it did, Luke took in a sharp intake of breath not quite believing what he was seeing. The creature below him snarled, its forked tongue suddenly lashing out in every direction lapping across its pointed teeth and scaled lips.
“Jesus Christ Almighty!” Luke screamed this time driving the heel of his boot even harder into the creature’s face. “Get the hell off me!” he finished, gripping the ladder as tight as he could. He smashed his foot into the beast’s head again. This time the assault worked. The animal released its grip and gave out a pitiful cry of pain. Taking his chance, Luke kicked the creature’s chest. At once the animal lost its grip and, having made one last desperate attempt to grab Luke’s heel, fell off the ledge. Luke watched as the beast plummeted to the driveway thudding into the cold gravel far below. Chatterton’s other mercenaries simply stood and watched as their comrade had landed yards from them, a large pool of blood splashing across the driveway as the animal’s body had made contact with the gravel. It didn’t appear to phase them one bit. They simply raised their collective heads back up towards the roof. Life, it seemed, appeared to be very cheap.
Luke began to throw up his stomach just as soon as he reached the rooftop. He dropped to his knees and didn’t stand again until he’d been sick at least five times. He then staggered towards one of the three skylights and sat himself down. Whatever he’d seen had shaken him to the very core. Alexander couldn’t be right, could he? Had he been hallucinating? There was no disputing what he’d just witnessed. Whatever had just attacked him was not human. At least not fully human. A hybrid? Perhaps Alexander had been telling the truth after all. Luke could hardly draw breath. His body was in shock. He tried to stand but found his legs were unwilling.
“You should have given up when I told you to do so,” Chatterton’s voice then sounded. Luke raised his head from his folded arms to find Spencer and four of his cronies now standing directly in front of him. He could hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind this group as others had stepped onto the rooftop. They were already making their way across the rooftop to where Luke was sitting.
“To hell with you Chatterton. To hell with you all,” Luke calmly replied. Not waiting to be captured, he began to crawl across the skylight on his hands and knees. Far down below, through the skylight’s frosted windows, he could see a bedroom, a luxurious suite with where many golden ornaments were present. They glittered through the frosted glass. Luke thought how pretty they looked.
“What now, McGowan?” Marshall then questioned. Luke turned to find the ageing soldier standing next to Chatterton clutching a walking stick to stop him from toppling over. The fact that he was still able to stand amazed Luke.
“Don’t look so shocked Luke. We heal quicker. It’s in the blood, you see,” Marshall continued, the same slimy grin appearing across his face.
“Are you…Are you one of them?” Luke asked, already knowing the answer.
“Of course.”
“Give yourself up Luke. There’s no point in running,” Chatterton continued.
“I don’t fancy being snake food if it’s all the same,” Luke snapped back, hauling himself to his feet. At once the glass beneath him began to splinter. “If you want me you’re going to have to take me kicking and screaming.”
Chatterton smiled and said, “I don’t think there will be any need for that, Luke. You seem to have found yourself in a very precarious situation.”
“I’ve been in worse,” Luke lied, bits of glass now beginning to crack beneath his weight.
Chatterton shook his head.
“Very well young man. If you really want to do things the hard way.”
Chatterton drew out a large, grey ornament from his pocket. The statue was that of a snake’s head.
“The Indians call this chap the Nagras. According to their myth, the Nagras had the ability to shape shift between lizard and human. I’ve always kept this little fellow close at hand. I’ve had him since I was a boy. I suppose he’s become a sort of security blanket in a strange way,” Chatterton rambled on. Marshall and his cronies giggled.
“You know, it’s funny. Up until now I never thought he had any real use. Well, I was wrong!”
With that, Chatterton hurled the statue towards the glass skylight. Luke made a desperate attempt to catch the flying object but missed it completely. The statue smashed into the skylight. Suddenly, the glass beneath Luke’s feet shattered. Within seconds he was falling through air.
“Land well McGowan,” Chatterton mumbled waiting for the dust to settle. “I hope you don’t hurt yourself.”
10 - Blood Brothers
The men in robes were no longer standing next to the door. Each one had retreated into the centre of the room now that Luke had forced his way past them. He stood with his hands against the door’s frame, his left ear pressed up against the wood listening for any sign of movement. He could only hear the child’s whimpers. The sound of engines, screeching brakes and startled crowds had all gone. His dream, like always, had moved on.
Slowly, Luke pushed the doors open. He found his brother asleep. Strewn across one of the room’s many sofas a myriad of toys and other collectables littered about the white, marbled flooring. Only his brother wasn’t asleep. Luke knew that of course. A pool of red liquid had formed not far from the toys. The blood had congealed. One of the toys, a walking, talking monkey, had become stuck within the pool. Its legs and arms moved helplessly, trapped and unable to progress even an inch forward.
“Lee?”
Luke knelt beside his brother.
“Can you hear me, Lee?”
He ran his hand through his brother’s fine, blonde hair, feeling the blood as it oozed through each of his fingers. Luke began to weep.
“I should have saved you Lee. I should have stayed with you, little brother. Please, please forgive me.”
The doors to the room slammed closed. The lights suddenly went out. Luke could now see the outline of several men in robes standing by the doors. They stared back at him unmoving and emotionless.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Luke asked. “Can’t you see the boy needs help?”
“Get up McGowan. Get up, man,” one of the men ordered. “You can’t stay here. You have to wake up.”
Luke could feel a hand grabbing at his shoulder. He couldn’t understand at first how the men in the robes had crossed the room so quickly.
“Get your hand off me,” he replied. The men had gone. The room had changed too. The doors were no longer visible and when he looked around there was no sign of the sofas, the white marble flooring or, more importantly, his brother. There were only shadows and the outline of a large man looming over him.
“Get up Luke. Come on, man! We have to get you out of here. The others will be here in no time,” the voice continued.
Luke sat himself up. He was in a cell of some kind. He could feel all manner of cuts and bruises riddling his body as he moved. His left hand was bleeding badly and when he ran this same hand carefully through his hair he discovered that it had become matted with blood.
“Can you stand?” the large figure in front of him asked.
Luke wanted to wait until his nig
ht vision returned before answering. The large figure in front however was in no mood for patience. He took out a cigarette lighter from his trouser pocket and flicked it into life. Luke squinted. He raised his injured hand to his face to stop the burning light hurting his eyes.
“We have to get you out of here, Luke!” the voice repeated in the same thick Russian accent. “Can you hear what I’m saying?”
Luke forced his eyelids to stay open. He could see Andre clearly now squatting in front of him, the cigarette lighter waving his way.
“Andre?” Luke then mumbled. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I have no time to explain. I was wrong about everything, okay? Is that going to be enough for you? I’ve seen Chatterton and his men for what they really are too. Now I must get you out of here.”
“I thought I was going to die,” Luke rambled on, checking his body for wounds. “Do I look okay?”
“You will be fine,” Andre replied. “You have a few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. I will help you, okay?”
Luke didn’t have the energy to argue. He looked around the cell and could see that there were other men slumped against the walls.
“Forget about them, Luke. They dead already.”
“How did you get in?”
“I’ve been hiding out in the woods. I’ve been watching everything. The Russian military prepare you well for survival. I watched you arrive. You are braver than I thought.”
“Where’s Chatterton?”
“They have left for the ritual,” Andre continued trying to get Luke to stand. “Come on now. You have to get to your feet.”
“Ritual? When? Do you know when it’s going to take place? I have to find Claire and the boy,” Luke persisted. Ignoring him, Andre managed to force Luke to his feet and was thinking of flinging the smaller man across his vast shoulders.
“You want me to carry you, man?” Andre complained.
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