The Beast (8 page)

Halfway there she stopped as another squeal of rage shattered the quiet. Shapes moved through the snow all around us. They emerged from behind cars, from behind hedges, from behind walls. They staggered in our direction, flailing and screeching, eyes dark, faces stained with blood.

‘Meet at the police station,’ Billy said.

‘What?’

‘The police station,’ he said, his voice shrill with rising panic. ‘Meet there.’

The screeching and gnashing was all around us now. Fifteen, twenty or more of them, closing in, faster and faster. Guggs was already sprinting for a gap, iron bar raised, just in case. Some of the screechers were changing direction, trying to cut him off, but they’d never reach him in time.

Billy ran for another gap in the approaching circle of bodies, limping slightly. ‘The police station,’ he called back over his shoulder. ‘Meet there, and whatever you do – do
not
get eaten!’

ore of the screechers chased after Billy, hissing and snarling as they lurched through the snow. That left at least eight or nine other figures still closing in on Ameena and me. And they were closing fast.

‘This way,’ I said, taking the lead. I made for the widest gap, keeping as much distance between myself and the screechers as possible. I half-ran, half-stumbled, but made it past the first of them without too much trouble.

But then a shape lunged at me from the left. I staggered right, avoiding the clawing swipe of an outstretched hand. Peggy, the woman who ran the local shop, came at me, gnashing her teeth until rivers of foamy saliva ran down her chin.

She would’ve caught me, too, had another flailing shape not thudded into her, sending them both crashing down into the snow. I didn’t recognise the other person, but his dark eyes and blood-flecked face told me all I needed to know.

Peggy and the new arrival were up in a flash, howling and spitting as they resumed the chase. I raced on, hurdling the smaller snowdrifts, dragging my legs through the larger ones.

The air was a chorus of screams and roars, as more and more of the screechers broke cover. My heart thudded inside my chest. My leg muscles tightened with cold and with cramp. Despite protests from my brain, my body was slowing down, giving in to the cold.

A narrow path disappeared between two bungalows, dead ahead. If we could just reach it, maybe we could lose the screechers in the maze of lanes and alleyways behind the houses.

‘Down here,’ I panted, ‘quick!’

The houses had shielded the path from the worst of the snow, and the going was easier as soon as I reached it. I sped up, zig-zagging through the labyrinth of back gardens and passageways, listening out for footsteps behind me. I was relieved when I heard none, but the relief quickly faded.

I could hear no footsteps.

None.

I stopped at a junction between two paths. No footsteps. Not the screechers’, and not Ameena’s. I backtracked, searching the previous passageway, and the one before that, but she wasn’t there. Ameena wasn’t there.

‘Ameena?’ I said, as loudly as I dared. No reply came, except the soft
pit-a-pat
of the falling snow.

The next alleyway was boxed in by high wooden fences. I was halfway along it before I remembered the last time I’d been here. Ameena and I had hidden in one of these very gardens as Mr Mumbles hunted us down. The garage we’d become trapped in was somewhere nearby, and the police station not too far from that. I would get there and meet up with Billy, as per the plan. But not without Ameena.

I tried again, calling her name softly but hearing nothing back. I inched along the path, my breath clouding in front of my face, my feet crunching through the snow. I called again. No answer.
Where was she?

The path turned to the right up ahead. I pressed my back against the high fence and side-stepped up to the corner. Slowly, I leaned around it, twisting my neck to peek along the alleyway.

Gaaaagh.

I leaned back out of sight, already feeling my pulse quickening. There were two of them standing just four or five metres along the path. Had they seen me? Probably. Maybe. I had no idea. I held my breath, kept as still as I could, listening for any sign of movement.

They moaned a few times. Their feet shuffled back and forth through the snow. But there were no screams or howls to suggest they knew I was there.

Being even more cautious this time, I stole a look along the path. The two figures were no closer than they had been, but they were no further away either. They shambled from side to side across the path, bumping into one of the fences, then turning and shuffling back until they collided with the one opposite.

I watched them for a few moments, trying to figure out what to do next. This was the way I’d run, but they were blocking the path. If I wanted to get back to Ameena, I’d have to find another route.

With a final glance at the two men, I quietly turned away from the corner. Peggy from the shop stood a metre or less away. With a strangled cry she lumbered towards me, arms raised. I jumped back, but the fence was behind me. Her hands caught me by the shoulders. I felt her fingernails dig into my skin, watched helplessly as her mouth dropped open and she let out a piercing scream.

The fence behind me shook violently. I looked up to see another screecher clambering over it from the other side. Her spindly arms lashed out, grabbing for my hair, or for any other part of me they could reach.

Two more voices howled behind me as the men I’d been watching staggered along the path, their hands clawing for me, their jaws munching in hungry anticipation.

‘Get... off,’ I grimaced, pushing Peggy back. She was stronger than she looked, though, and her grip didn’t slip from my shoulder. Her mouth opened wider. She leaned in. I saw her black tongue, smelled nothing but death on her breath.

I drove my knee into her stomach. Once. Twice. She hissed at me from the back of her throat. Her teeth snapped shut just centimetres from my nose.
Clack-clack
.

Rough hands grabbed my face from behind, pulling me back. I twisted, pulled free, and fired an elbow sharply backwards. It hit something soft and fleshy, doing the attacking screecher no harm at all.

I yelped in pain as the fingers of the one on the fence finally found my hair. She pulled up sharply, trying to lift me off the ground and claim me for her own. Until then, I’d been keeping a lid on my panic, but that was the moment the lid came off.

The power buzzed at the base of my skull. ‘Don’t kill them!’ I begged, not quite sure who I was saying it to. And then sparks exploded inside my head.

The wooden fences on either side of me snapped and splintered. An invisible force batted the screechers away. They twisted and hissed as they were hurled through the air in every direction. The snow at my feet was blown up into the air, surrounding me in a cloud of dusty white.

The screechers landed on their backs in piles of dirty snow, but they were back on their feet almost right away. Their black eyes glared at me, their mouths still gnashing at nothing.

I spun around. The paths were blocked in every direction. My powers were tingling through me, waiting to be put to use again, but until I was sure of the consequences of using them, they were a last resort.

The woman who’d caught me by the hair was half-buried beneath the remains of the fence she’d been on. She was thrashing around, struggling to free herself. I leapt over her and landed in the garden of a mid-terrace house. The back door stood open. I dashed towards it, tripping and stumbling through the snow. The screechers scrambled after me. They were faster than I was, but I had a head start.

I reached the door and fell inside, landing on the kitchen lino with a
thud
. Rolling on to my back I kicked the door as hard as I could. It slammed closed just as Peggy bounded up the step. I heard the
crunch
of the wood hitting her face, then the squeal of wounded rage that followed.

The door shook as Peggy and the others hurled themselves against it. They scratched and clawed as I got up and looked around the kitchen.

‘Key.
Key!
’ Frantically, I searched the worktops and the windowsill. ‘Come
on
, there’s got to be – yes!’

I spotted the key, already in the lock. My fingers trembled as I wrestled with it, trying to get it turned. At last, with a faint
click
, I managed to secure the door. Outside, the screechers were still trying to batter it down, but I reckoned it would keep them out. For now, at least, I was safe.

Assuming, of course, there wasn’t already one in the house with me.

On the other side of the kitchen, the door leading through to the living room was shut tight. I approached it quietly and pressed my ear against the wood. With the racket the screechers were making outside, it was virtually impossible to tell if there was any noise from the room beyond this door. There was only one way to know for sure.

I pulled the door open a crack but was ready to slam it closed again if I had to. The living room was a mess. A couch lay on its back, its torn cushions spilling their stuffing out all over the floor. The frame of a coffee table stood in the middle of the room, its glass top shattered into diamond-like shards on the carpet.

Opening the door all the way, I stepped into the room and saw the full extent of the damage. Three deep gouges ran almost the full length of one wall. They tore through the wallpaper and through the plaster beneath. I poked my finger into one of the grooves. It sunk in right up to the third knuckle.

I remembered the footprint we’d found in Mrs Angelo’s house. I looked at the claw marks along the wall. More than anything, I tried not to think about what could be responsible for both.

There were two windows at opposite ends of the room, the curtains drawn over both. I decided to leave them that way, rather than risk attracting the attention of anyone else outside.

A second door in the living room stood wide open. Through it, I could see the house’s front door – closed, thankfully – and the first step of a staircase leading to the upper floor.

I made for the stairs. I could peek through a bedroom window and get a better idea of what was going on outside, hopefully without being noticed by anyone down on the ground.

At the bottom step I hesitated, one hand gripping the banister, the other pressed against the opposite wall. I stood there in silence, listening for any sound from above.

Nothing.

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Anyone there?’

Again, nothing.

Placing my feet at the outside edges of each step to minimise creaking, I crept up to the top of the stairs. Four doors led off from the upper landing. Three of them were open, one wasn’t. I looked in the first three rooms, but found nothing of interest in any of them.

One of the bedrooms overlooked the back garden. Blinds were closed over the narrow window. I eased two of the metal strips apart just enough to allow me to see out.

The first thing I noticed was that the snow had stopped falling. The next thing I noticed were the screechers. The garden was full of them now. I counted fifteen before I stopped and came away from the window. Going out through the back door was out of the question. That was all I needed to know.

Out front, the picture was brighter. I kept low behind the curtains of the second bedroom, looking out on to the main street. There were two screechers out there from what I could see, both well apart and shuffling in opposite directions.

Through the window I could see almost the whole route to the police station. It looked like it was completely clear. A straight sprint and I could reach it in just a few minutes, as long as the snow didn’t slow me down too much.

I decided that was what I would do. I’d get to the police station and meet up with the others. If I knew Ameena, she’d probably have headed there the moment we got separated. It would’ve been the sensible thing for her to do, and when it came to staying alive, Ameena was the most sensible person I’d ever met.

Feeling suddenly hopeful, I left the bedroom and headed for the stairs. But a sound from beyond the closed door stopped me in my tracks. It was a soft padding sound – footsteps on carpet – and the high-pitched squeak of a creaky floorboard.

I stepped back towards the stairs, getting ready to run as the handle turned and the bedroom door was opened from the inside.

‘Hello, son,’ said a man whose face I now knew all too well. My dad ran his fingers through his dark shaggy hair and flashed me a shark-like smile. ‘Long time no see.’