“What the hell’s going on? Who was in charge here?”
Noel shook his head. “The agency nurse, Sandi – and it looks like she’s fucked off.”
Claire’s face was ashen. “Noel, everyone’s been overdosed. Not fatally but certainly enough to distract us and make it look like Ruby wasn’t singled out, which she most definitely was. If you hadn’t got to her when you did she would have died. Someone tried to murder her, do you realise that? She was given enough haloperidol plus a cocktail of other drugs to kill her.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Noel - oh my God, Noel.”
He put his arms around her and gave her a brief, firm hug. “I’ll call the police. Meanwhile, let’s get everyone stable and cleaned up. Come on, we’ve got a job to do - we can do this.”
It took the rest of the day. Noel called in the afternoon shift to come in early and both sets of staff worked solidly until six; one by one giving statements to the duty officers. By half past, Noel and Claire were sitting upstairs in the staff room drinking strong, syrupy coffee and wolfing chocolate bars from the slot machine.
Ewan sat hugging himself. “Man, I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”
Noel suddenly looked his way like he’d only just noticed his existence. “Shit! I forgot. You said there was a message from Amanda?”
“Oh Noel, let yourself off the hook – you haven’t had a minute,” said Claire.
“It’s unusual though – very - especially since I can’t get hold of Becky.”
He had Amanda’s mobile number on speed dial and got through straight away. “Amanda - I’m so sorry, but I only just got your message this afternoon, and we’ve had a terrible emergency–”
“Noel, it’s fine,” she whispered. “Sorry, only just got Ellie off to sleep. No, I couldn’t get you on the phone, that’s all, and I’d left loads of messages. In the end I had to ask Ewan to–”
“You left messages? Really? That’s odd. Seriously, I haven’t had any from either you or Becky. None.”
“Maybe your phone’s on the blink? Anyway, the message is from Ruby and she was very worked up about it so I have to pass it on. She wanted to tell Becky something, but of course Becky’s off now and I can’t get hold of her for love nor money – she’s another one not answering. It was one of her psychic things so I don’t know if it means anything to either of you, but here goes: ‘Tell Becky she must not be alone at the birth.’”
“What does that mean? Why?”
“I don’t know. Look, this is where I need you to bear with me because I don’t know what’s agitating Ruby so much, but she was getting increasingly frantic – drawing pictures of babies and swords…and a rose – someone sent her one, you know? Anyway, while I’ve been off with Ellie I’ve done a bit more research and Satanists mark a new-born child by taking his or her blood to use in black magic rituals. Well, what if it’s Becky’s baby they want? I know it sounds far-fetched but Ruby was extremely agitated, and all I can say is, will you please make sure Becky is okay? Just warn her to watch out. The birth is ages away so I don’t think any of this is urgent, but—”
“Amanda, someone just tried to kill Ruby. And after what has happened to the rest of us, I honestly wouldn’t discount any of what you’ve hypothesised; the fact that they believe this and act it out is enough for the rest of us to take it seriously. Okay, I’ll speak to Becky as soon as I can. To be honest, though, I’ve been trying to ring her and Callum all afternoon. In the end I called Toby, the officer who was in charge of the case last year. Apparently he’s been suspended for something and he’s very upset about it – he wouldn’t talk to me - but I know he’d do anything for Cal and Becky and I literally begged him to check on her. Anyway, I’ve got to get off the phone, Amanda. But thank you. Thank you.”
He turned to Claire and Ewan, who both had their mouths open, having heard the conversation on loud speaker.
“Claire you know what can happen with this lot. You saw what happened to Jack, to Martha, to Kristy?”
She nodded. “I just can’t believe this is real.”
“I’d agree with you, but something they do works, I swear to God.”
He was already phoning Becky’s house phone again; then tried her mobile, leaving yet another message to call back urgently. Again no answer.
He tried Callum. Again it went to voicemail.
Like a rock plummeting to the bottom of a well, his stomach plunged and kept on plunging. “Something’s very, very wrong, Claire. We’ve been behind the door here – they’ve got one over on us. Shit! I’ve got to find Becky.”
Claire put a restraining hand on his arm. “The worst thing you can do is go firing off across those moors on your motorbike before you know where she is. Let’s ring the hospitals and the police first.”
He jumped up while she rung around, pacing, thinking. This whole thing had been sewn up incredibly fast. So it was all about exacting revenge on Becky, was it? Christ, she’d have to leave the country. She’d have to take Molly and bloody emigrate. Christ!
Claire clicked off the phone. “Becky’s in Maternity. Looks like Molly’s coming early.”
***
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Doncaster Royal Infirmary
Becky opened her eyes to find a familiar face looking down at her.
“Oh hi! What are you doing in my bedroom?”
“This is the DRI, Becky.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, you were brought in this morning, don’t you remember?”
“No. I must have been out cold.” She looked at Sandi through a haze, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t know you worked here?”
“Jack of all trades, that’s me,” said Sandi. “Maternity, surgery, lunatics–”
Becky frowned. “God, I must have been really out of it – I can’t even remember how I got here.”
The room was small, whitewashed and windowless, her bed a trolley with rails around it. Instinctively she checked her bump, rewarded with a healthy kick from Molly, before another wave of contractions started and she grimaced, a fresh wave of sweat breaking out.
As she flopped back against the pillows the mask came back over her face. “That’s it, take deep, long breaths. It won’t be long now.”
Something’s not quite right.
Her brain searched frantically through a fog of confusion; crippling spasms of pain frequently axing through her thoughts, leaving her reeling and exhausted. The clock on the wall in front said five-thirty in the afternoon… so she’d been here, what, ten or eleven hours? No, that didn’t stack up. A blurred snapshot of memory flitted in and out of her mind – of the wind whipping back the hair from her face as she was carried into an ambulance, of the potholed lane bouncing the van from side to side, of worrying if the cottage door was locked properly, wondering where the hell Callum was… before the world had blanked out.
“Where’s my husband? Where’s Cal, Sandi? Is he on his way?”
Sandi had her back to her, busy at the medical trolley. Unresponsive, she faded in and out of focus. Hadn’t she heard? Becky took the mask from her face, biting back the screams as another contraction took hold. This labour had, must have, been going on all day? So where the hell was Callum? And Noel? They were supposed to be here.
She heard her own anxious shout pierce the air. “Sandi - I said, ‘where’s my husband?’ Hasn’t he been called? And where’s my phone? I need to ring him. Please.” She flopped back again, panting hard. “I wanted an epidural. It was agreed way back. I can’t take this level of pain. Will you please get the doctor? I need… I need… Oh God, it’s coming again–”
Still the other woman did not respond.
All wrong… something was very, very wrong…
Several more long minutes passed with zero response. At last the contractions eased off and she could think again. Why did Sandi have her back to her all the time? Why wasn’t she answering? How come she’d been unconscious all day but was now being left
in agony? Where were the other members of staff?
Suddenly Sandi appeared to finish what she was doing and swung round to face her.
What the fuck?
The woman’s eyes were entirely black. Becky stared in horror.
“I don’t understand. What is this?”
As she continued to stare, Sandi’s face started to dissolve into the ether – the familiar image of protruding teeth and frizzy ‘child’s drawing’ hair disappearing – until all that was left was a feeling of falling into a black, bottomless abyss.
“It’s nice they waited for me to come and see to you personally,” said a deep, guttural voice.
“What?”
“There are so many of us now but I wanted to be the one to do it. So, better late than never. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
“With what? Oh, yes – I get it. This is a nightmare, isn’t it? I’m at home and I’m going to wake up. I have to wake up…or the demon will get me. I was so tired, you see and I knew this would happen – that I wouldn’t wake in time?”
A chorus of voices laughed raucously.
“All I’ve got to do is wake up.”
Another wave of breath-taking contractions gripped and shook her. She screamed with the pain. “For fuck’s sake give me some fucking gas. Where’s Dr Faulkner? Where’s Debbie, my nurse? Where is everyone? Oh my God, Jesus Christ!”
“Isn’t going to help you now,” said the voice.
Sweat poured from her in rivulets as the pain racked through her body. She gripped the railings and yelled until her throat was raw. When it eventually subsided she flopped back, gasping and crying. “This is fucking real, isn’t it? And I’m going to die and you’re going to take Molly. So who the fuck are you, then? Tell me.”
The other woman seemed to float towards her now, a fuzzy image in a black cloak. Becky fought against the sedatives she’d been injected with. Oh no, dear God no… The thing, woman, whatever it was, was holding a scalpel. And it was then, in a sudden flash of understanding Becky realised what was going to happen. Of course, this had been planned ever since ‘they’ somehow knew she was with child. Something had been sent to watch her so the second Molly was ready to come, they would be waiting. And Callum had been deliberately removed from the scene….
Yes, it was all so bloody obvious now. Fuck, fuck and fuck… Tears squeezed out of her eyes. Had these bastards done something to him? And what about Noel? Had he drunk himself to death? Had a road accident? Oh God, no, please no… And now this bitch was going to kill either her or Molly or both of them. Life was over.
The black-eyed thing looming over her shook its head as if it had read her thoughts.
“We’re not killing the child. We just need her blood,” it hissed, spittle flying out, drool running down its chin as it drew back the blade. “She will be our future high priestess, won’t you, my dear?” Its icy fingers stroked Becky’s tummy. “Once we have her blood she’s marked, you see? We will watch and wait until she’s ready to start taking instruction, probably around the age of three. That would be about right.”
With superhuman effort, Becky ripped off the mask and frantically tried to unhook the bars of the trolley, which had been pumped as high off the floor as it could go. With her other hand she swiped at the scalpel, but Sandi was quicker and the blade struck her palm, blood spurting onto the sheet. Another series of contractions took hold, forcing her to slump back. They were so close together now the birth had to be imminent. Molly was coming. “No,” she whispered to the child inside, “not yet…not yet….” But the baby was coming now, the pain insufferable. With all her strength she kicked Sandi in the stomach, flailing her arms around to keep the knife away, oblivious to the gashes to her hands, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Get away from us, you evil cow. I’ll kill you first, I swear to God… aaaargh…Please, God, help us!”
Sandi had jumped back from the kick and Becky’s glance darted to the door. Where was everyone? My God, if she was really in Maternity, where were the other nurses? The obstetrician? The receptionist? The orderlies?
In that split second Sandi darted forwards, and an iron-hard shove on the forehead slammed Becky flat to the pillow, the other hand clamping round her throat, constricting her windpipe.
“If you move again or cry out I will slit your throat. Either way we will have this child. No one crosses Lucifer. We have this entire area in a stronghold, and the pathetic bit of Christianity you have left is being taken apart bit by bit. So if you want your shit life back you can have it, but it will be shit, and trust me it’s going to get worse and worse and worse. No one disrespects Lucifer. Got it? So lie still now, there’s a good girl.”
Becky had no option but to watch as Sandi then drew back the lancet. Oh God, please help us…
The pain of the next contraction was sudden and violent. Molly was coming and coming now.
The scream ripped from her lungs at the same time as the door flew open, and Toby Harbour burst in. Becky yelled, “The knife!”
Then with her eyes squeezed shut she heaved Molly into the world, vaguely aware of more bodies, shouting, a baby crying…And a horrible inhuman-sounding screech as someone’s head cracked against the wall.
***
Chapter Thirty
It was much later – nearly midnight - when Toby and Sid Hall cruised past the Mullins’ house. It sat in gloomy silence behind wrought iron gates, not a flicker of light in any of the windows.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” said Toby.
“Hmmm…Let’s take a wander round the back.”
With the headlights switched off, Sid drove the car quietly along the lane to the side of the house, hanging a right down a bumpy bridleway towards the rear. Eventually they came to a five-bar gate, leaving them no choice but to get out and walk. A wet, murky fog closed around the two figures as they clambered over a style and proceeded to tramp across the fields.
“I didn’t realise it was this foggy. Must’ve come down quick,” said Sid.
“I can’t see you, mate.”
The older man, stocky in his anorak and boots, waited for him to catch up, his world-weary face grim. “My guess is they’ve scarpered but we’ll take a look round, any road.”
“This fog’s a right pea-souper.”
“Aye, bloody cold an’ all. Come on, let’s get this done.”
“I don’t like this, Sid. I’ve got a really bad feeling.”
His words were muffled, and with a flicker of panic he realised Sid had already been swallowed by the fog. His feet were sinking into the mud. “Sid,” he said, standing still. “Sid, slow down, I can’t see a thing. Where are you?”
His partner’s muted voice replied from somewhere to his left, or so he thought. “It’s come down bloody quick has this, very peculiar.”
“Where are you?”
“Keep coming towards my voice. I think we’re at the back of the woods so we should be tracking downhill soon. You with me?”
He bumped into him. “Sorry, yeah. Don’t worry I’m not going to hold your hand but I am going to keep touching your shoulder. I hate this. I hate not being able to see owt.”
“Suppose it happens suddenly like this on t’ moors, specially this time of year. Give it a minute and it’ll lift again, you’ll see.”
“Have we got to do this? Couldn’t we just go back to the car and scout round the house from the front?”
Sid didn’t answer. Okay, it was a stupid question but Sid had no idea how evil these people really were. Nobody did.
“We haven’t got back up if they’re still here.”
“Aye and we’d look like a right pair of Charlies if we got the place surrounded and there were nowt ’ere but a couple of badgers.”
“Fair point.” They were dropping steeply now, stumbling down scree, the chill of the trees and the water mingling with damp fog. “Right,” Toby said. “Well, I’m definite that when I was here that night we walked out of the patio doors and along a path that led
directly into some woods, so–”
“Stop!” Sid came to an abrupt halt, holding up a hand to prevent them both walking straight into the lake.
Already their feet were sinking, muddy water swilling round their ankles as they realised too late they were mired in the reeds.
“Ah, shit, I’m up to my bloody ankles,” said Toby.
Struggling to backtrack, they grabbed onto each other’s shoulders to try and lever themselves out, lunging for dry land on hands and knees.
“Jesus, that was close.”
“Flaming Nora. You could be up to your neck before you know it,” said Sid, breathing hard. The black expanse of water lapped gently under a veil of fog, merging seamlessly into a quagmire around the edges. “This fog stops you hearing an ’all. Bloody hell, my poor, old heart’s going like the bleedin’ clappers. Come on, we’ll have to walk round it, see what we can see.”
As Sid headed west towards the woods, Toby instinctively hung back. That smell – something heady and sweet lingering in the autumnal air – immediately transported him back the night of the black mass, and the moment another hand had forced his to sink a blade into the heart of a freshly murdered human being. The taste of the man’s blood lurched into his throat and he swallowed hard.
“Come on, lad – keep up.”
Their boots stuck and squelched, the going hard, until all at once the clearing where the stage had been set was directly in front: a large but empty area of grass ringed by ancient oaks.
Sid turned to face him. “This where it happened?”
Toby nodded, desperately trying to clear his head. “I’m not likely to bloody forget.”
There wasn’t a sound; the fog so dense now it obscured all but their immediate personal space.
“Seriously, this whole place creeps me out,” said Toby. “They could still be here. Watching us.” He started to shake, looking over his shoulder, turning round this way and that. We should have had back-up.”
“And how do you think I get back-up when people are saying what they’re saying about you, soft lad? No one would touch you with a barge pole. I’ve stuck my big, thick neck out here. So shut up now and listen. These people – what they do is way too dodgy to hang around. They’ll know by now that we busted that woman at the hospital. My bet is they’re long gone, and my hope is they’ve buggered off a bit too quickly and left us a nice bit of evidence.”
Magda: A Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror Trilogy - Book 3 Page 21
