Joe walked down one of the aisles and ran his finger along the plain printed text that informed him of the contents of each box. Tuna, Ham, Dried Onions, Powdered Soup, Boiled Rice, Peas, Carrots, Stewed Steak. There didn’t appear to be any kind of order to the type of goods, there were no helpful labels on the boxes with details of the price or weight.
There was a deep freeze unit filled with plastic-sealed bacon and sausages. It looked as though boxes of the product had just been tipped in until it was full.
‘Tesco shares are safe at the moment,’ Joe thought. As he turned the corner he was surprised to see a woman picking a can out of one of the boxes down the next aisle. She looked young, probably Melanie’s age give or take a year. She drew a sharp breath when she turned and saw Joe.
‘Hi, good morning.’ Joe said and smiled. The girl stared back blankly, holding the can in her hand as though it were a mug of coffee. There was none of the look about her, in fact Joe thought her a little plain looking, a slight face and a straight cut fringe that underlined the rest of her thick black hair that was held up with an elastic band. She said nothing in reply and continued to stare nervously at Joe.
Whatever confidence had prompted Joe to talk to the girl now left him and he groped around in dark corners of his social repertoire for something to say.
‘I don’t suppose there’s a McDonalds around here?’
The girl quickly replaced the can and walked to the opposite end of the aisle, away from Joe, and hurried out of the store.
Joe stood still, feeling sheepish. ‘So much for communicating with the natives.’
He heard the sound of something heavy being dropped onto the floor further up and across from where he stood, perhaps two aisles over. A second later another Falls man appeared at the end of his aisle.
‘Just like shopping box guy!’ Joe immediately saw what he now thought of as the advanced Falls look.
Not even an apologetic strand of hair clung to this one’s head. It was the same oddly bulging shape and the face was almost identical as far as the eyes, nose and mouth could be considered. If there was a difference it was that this man blinked a little more, even without snow to bother him. He wore a large work coat that was probably once khaki but was now a perfect camouflage against the cardboard boxes being pale and worn.
The man opened his mouth to speak but what came out sounded more like a clogged drain trying to empty.
‘Whaaaghyouuuheeerrreforrr’ he said in the gargled manner Joe had heard Henry use.
‘Just shopping.’ Joe replied.
‘Nooothinggheereeyouhhh.’ Shop guy pointed at him. Joe stared at the thick finger that had a nail that looked grey and pointed, almost like a talon. He noticed a fold of skin hung from the base of the finger and melded into his knuckles.
‘Jesus does that guy have webbed fingers?’
‘I think you’re right mate.’ Joe answered. He nodded a farewell and like the young woman had done before him hurried out of the store.
He decided to carry on his adventure down the street, away from what he thought of as the Satanic Lidl. Between buildings gaps were filled with what he assumed was mostly sea fishing equipment. There was certainly a great deal of nets, piled up into snow covered domes like little Christmassy hobbit houses. He also determined that there were oars, long poles with nasty looking hooks on the end, broken crates with weights spilling out of them and other sea fishing supplies.
He came to a space between two unlit buildings that was occupied by a large tarpaulin, stretched from one side to the other. Snow covered it completely but the shapes of whatever was underneath showed up as ripples across the surface.
Joe decided to investigate this. He took a look around to see if anyone was walking by and seeing no one he pushed some of the snow away to find an edge to the tarp and upon locating one lifted it up. The weight of the compacted snow made it heavy and awkward but with a little pushing and shaking Joe was able to raise a sizeable portion above his head.
What he found under the tarpaulin was row after row of statues, no taller than three feet high and each sculpted in what he could only think of as a tribal style. They looked like the kind of thing Indiana Jones might encounter deep in a South American burial chamber. From what he could see they represented some kind of aquatic creature, or creatures in fact because he observed that whilst some bore a similarity they all appeared to be unique in overall design.
The object nearest him was set upon a ragged stone base. The figure had a vaguely humanoid shape to it but there its humanity ended. Folds of loose skin had been carved into the stone. A distended belly protruded out of them, moving up to a chest that had runes or sigils carved into it. The scene in the forest flashed across his mind although he couldn’t see the same design on this creature, and what a creature it was.
The head was large in comparison to the body, perhaps artistic license had been at work here. A gaping maw, filled with two rows of shark-like teeth, top and bottom, was surrounded by a hairstyle that consisted of snakes, or perhaps tentacles that writhed about it. Above the mouth Joe couldn’t see anything that might indicate a nose but there were widely spaced eyes, almost to the sides of the face. Those eyes appeared to glisten in the half light.
Joe peered a little closer. There was something decidedly unnerving about the sculptures. They were ugly little things, lined up in rows, disappearing in the darkness beyond the lifted portion of the tarp and it was like looking at an army of dwarven monsters. All of the statues had the same twinkle where the eyes were located. He stretched his free hand out and ran his fingers over them, they felt like metal, extremely cold to the touch but smooth unlike the rock they were set in.
He took his hand away and pushed the tarp further back to allow more of the weak light from across the road to spill onto the front row. He could see that one of them didn’t have the shiny eyes, just two dull sockets. Again the forest scene was with him for a moment but he managed to cast it aside.
He wet the corner of his sleeve with a little saliva and then manoeuvred under the tarp so that he could polish one of the eyes of the statue nearest to him. It produced a dull yellow patch. Joe rubbed harder at the metal revealing more of the same from under the tarnish. Where he had lifted the majority of dirt and grease the metal took on a rich shine. Joe was almost certain that what he was looking at was solid gold.
He looked around again, checking for sure that no bulbous eyes were observing him. The tarp was starting to get heavy but he quickly rubbed at the other eye producing the same result, a lusty gold orb set in the grotesque stone.
‘Fuck me. There must be a fortune here.’
He stepped away and let the tarpaulin drop sending a small avalanche of snow to the floor. His arm ached a little from holding up the sheet and he swung it around to get the blood flowing. He looked again at the area taken up by the tarpaulin sheet and the numerous little bumps in the snow. He reckoned that there must be thirty or so statues.
‘Why the fuck would they just leave them out here? Perhaps it isn’t gold.’ He thought, but he knew it was. He was no jeweller but he knew gold when he saw it. Perhaps most men did. The statues looked like relics, probably from an ancient civilisation and that alone would make them valuable. With gold for eyes Joe couldn’t even guess at their monetary value.
The Falls inhabitants made their living from the sea he wondered if maybe they had dredged them up at some point. But why would statues like this be off the coast of Scotland? Perhaps they were stored here only recently, after being shipped in, illegally maybe, ready to be moved on. Then the storm had come. Hadn’t Melanie said that smuggling had once been a big part of the economy around here?
Joe couldn’t convince himself of this sequence of events but it had some elements of sense so he left it at that for the time being. He mulled over heading back to the hotel. The store and the statues had crept him out already and he wasn’t sure that he was ready to deal with more of what Winter Falls might have to offer.
The snow had started to become a little more intrusive as well. Instead of just constantly falling it had begun to switch direction and dart about in little squalls. The wind was beginning to pick up.
Despite all of this Joe decided to press on. He had the whole of the afternoon to spend sat in his hotel room, worried and probably scared. If he continued to investigate the town at least it would keep him busy. He left the covered army of little monsters and continued on the path.
The rest of the journey was much of the same. Someone had walked by on the opposite side of the street but because of the snow Joe couldn’t make out a face. The person, whoever it was, had seemed stocky and walked with a familiar, awkward shuffling gait.
When he finally reached the far side of the harbour one building stuck out from the rest. It was taller by an extra floor than the two-storey units that flanked it but unlike them it was built from large solid bricks rather than decaying wooden planks. The frontage reminded Joe of the Masonic Lodge in London. It had tall pillars either side of a grand set of double doors but there the art deco similarity ended. The rest of the building was plain and dreary.
Joe approached it looking for clues as to what its purpose might be, but this was made difficult by the increasing strength of the wind forcing snow against him and a substantial amount of it already covered the building.
What was clear was that it had been used recently. The snow leading up to the door was much lower than everywhere else. A lot of feet had walked up those steps and turned the snow to slush. Only today’s flurry had settled on top of it.
Melanie had said that her father had to gone to worship on the other side of the town and Joe wondered if this might be the place. As he neared the entrance he looked for anything that might indicate its purpose or confirm that this was the Doctors place of prayer. There were no signs or notices set against the walls, at least none that were obvious with the snow cover. He listened carefully but could only hear the wind.
A couple of feet above the door a concrete lintel ran around the front and sides, and perched on these were various small statues or gargoyles. Joe couldn’t fathom what they represented as age had desiccated the stone and their features had crumbled away leaving only squat stumps. He considered trying the handle of the door but knew that if it opened he still wouldn’t go in and so let it be.
Something about this building more than any others disturbed Joe deeply. It felt wrong, as though all of the decay and degeneration of the town emanated from behind its walls. Joe knew that he was being fanciful, that the effects of the morning were still with him but he couldn’t shake a feeling of dread here.
No, not only would he not try to open that door he wouldn’t stay here any longer. He started back along the street the way he came.
After a short walk saw that he was near the second jetty and decided to take a look at it before he finished his reconnoitre. The other jetty, further down, had been obscured by the ‘local shop’ but the route to this one was clear other than the snow covered mounds of fishing gear. Along the both sides of the jetty boats gently bumped against tyres that dangled down on ropes which were almost rotted to threads. Like every single thing Joe had seen so far in Winter Falls the boats looked old and unused. They certainly didn’t look seaworthy.
As he carefully walked the length of the jetty he could see that some rudders and masts were chewed with rot and others had completely fallen away. Snow covered the decks but Joe imagined missing timbers and dangerously weak patches that would collapse into the deck below if any weight were put upon them.
At the very end there was one craft that looked as though it might be serviceable, a motor boat. There were only a couple of inches of snow inside it.
This appeared to be the only boat in this whole fishing port that had been in use recently, and it was the only one Joe would have trusted to sit in should he have to. He looked out at the sea but the snowfall only allowed ten or so yards of choppy dull water to be seen. As he watched the torrent of snowflakes assault the water, only to become a part of it, Joe felt like he might be standing on the edge of the world.
He turned and made his way back to the hotel, this time without stopping to examine any more of the town’s attractions. He felt he had not learned much from his adventure but some things had become apparent. The Falls look was real enough, and it was more advanced in the shopkeeper than it was in Henry. He had also met another person, another girl who shared none of the physical effects Kevin had listed, just like Melanie.
The weird statues were puzzling. How could such items, possibly priceless artefacts, be left outside under a tarpaulin, and where did they come from? The state of the waterfront and jetties suggested that other than the lone motor boat there wasn’t a single sea-worthy vessel in the harbour.
Joe would be the first to admit that he knew very little about the sea but he was certain that three foot tall sculptures didn’t come up from the sea easily if you were working from a little boat. More questions poured into his thoughts and he welcomed them if only to keep the scenes of the horror in the forest out of his mind.
As he approached the hotel he checked the time. It was three thirty and already the sky was darkening. The wind had begun to intensify, the new storm front was almost upon the town and the snow was dancing wildly as if in anticipation of its arrival. Joe picked up his pace as best he could and although not pleased to finally see the hotel door appear he was a little relieved.
He entered the reception and brushed snow off his shoulders, stamping his feet onto the worn carpet as he did so. Henry was sat at the reception desk and stared blankly across the room. Joe wondered if he had moved at all since he had left. He approached the desk and only as he drew to within striking distance did Henry appear to notice he was there. Automatically Henry reached below the counter top as before and produced the key to Joe’s room.
Joe took it. ‘Thanks.’ He said.
As he moved away from the desk Joe paused and turned back to Henry. He felt that he already knew what the outcome of his question would be but decided to give it a go just for completeness.
‘Is there a pay-phone or just a telephone I can use?’
Henry stared at him as though he was speaking in a foreign language, his mouth slightly cracked open. Joe raised his hand to his ear, thumb and little finger stretched out to perform the universally known ‘telephone receiver’ gesture.
‘Telephone...’ Joe said, as though he were communicating with a simpleton.
Henry shook his head slowly. Joe dropped his hand.
‘So this is a hotel in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t a phone? I’m supposed to believe that?’
Henry’s expression didn’t change but he tilted his misshapen head a little to the side and attempted a look of sympathy. In a breathy retort he answered, ‘Phones not working, lines are down.’
Joe nodded and returned an equally mock smile. ‘Of course they are. The storm I’m guessing?’
Henry nodded and shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
‘Thanks again.’ Joe said, and marched off to his room.
He pushed the door open. All seemed fine. The iPhone was still on his bed with the power cord snaking from it to the wall socket. His bags looked undisturbed. He had angled them in a way he thought would be difficult to copy had they been moved. He closed the door and locked it.
Once again he removed his boots and denims but when he went to the radiator to his surprise it was warm. In fact it was approaching hot. It was only then he realised the room itself was much warmer than it had been. He placed his denims across the top of the radiator and his boots beneath to dry them out.
He thought this over for a moment. Why had the heating had been turned on? To what end?
He decided that it was likely that the conclusion had been reached that Joe was going to be in the town at least until the storm stopped and the road out could be cleared. They were keeping him comfortable or at least relatively so. Trying to keep him calm and p
robably indoors. He slipped on his trousers and trainers, which were now dry. He checked his phone for a signal but there was nothing.
Sitting on the bed he realised how hungry he was. He hadn’t been offered breakfast, dinner-time had passed him by while he was exploring the harbour and he guessed that Henry would bring his McSedative Happy Meal up at around eight as he had done the previous night.
Joe thought there must be a kitchen in the hotel as Henry had been ordered to rustle up food by Macgregor. Joe decided to give Henry a job to do.
He made his way to reception where Henry upon seeing him reappear at the bottom of the stairs audibly sighed.
‘I’d like something to eat please.’ Joe said ‘What’s on the menu?’
‘No menu.’ Henry responded. ‘Meal at eight. I’ll bring it.’
‘Well I’m hungry now. I’ve had no breakfast or dinner. Do I need to go out into the town? Shopping for my bloody food?
Henrys big eyes almost narrowed and Joe realised that he had managed to get under the skin of the odd looking man. He liked the thought of this, it felt like a little revenge against Winter Falls for putting him through hell.
‘What you want?’ Henry responded grudgingly, his voice both sloppy and rasping at the same time.
‘How about some chips, an egg, some beans and sausage?’ Joe said and having come up with it really did want that particular combination right now.
‘Got beans.’ Henry replied. ‘Got mash.’
‘Beans on toast?’ Joe countered.
Henry shook his head. ‘No bread.’
‘No bread?’ Joe asked and as Henry began to speak Joe mirrored his words.
‘The storm.’ They said together.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Joe said dismissively. ‘Ok I’ll take the beans and mash, any chance you can make it from actual potatoes?’
Henry stared at him.
‘Ok. Beans and Smash. Thanks. I’ll be in my room.’ At this he left the harassed receptionist to it. Half an hour later a light knock on the door indicated that Henry had arrived with the goods. Joe took the tray and thanked him. Henry shuffled off and Joe watched him all the way to the stairs.
Winter Falls Page 12
