The Collector Book One: Mana Leak (21 page)

“What is he doing here?” demanded Jake, roaring at his mother. “Did you bring him back here?”

“The pair of you just calm down,” she said. “Whatever he’s here for, it’s nothing to do with me. Jake, just because you’ve upset someone again, don’t go blaming it on me.” She sighed. “And someone turn off that damn music!”

The garage walls shook. Something had struck the side.

The CD in the stereo jumped and stopped, flooding the garage with silence. Shadows danced as the light bulb swung in a circle.

“What the hell was that?” whispered Jake.

Another tremor rattled the building.

Jake cried out and fell against his mother.

Adam staggered across the shaking floor to his family. They clung to each other for balance.

The rear of the garage exploded, rubble flying as it was smashed through. Fragments fell in Jenny’s hair and coated the trio in a fine grey powder. The hole that emerged through the cloud of dust was metres in diameter with a broken edge of stone and curled metal supports, like a screaming mouth with jagged teeth of steel.

All three screamed as the tall figure stepped through.

The sparkling silver creation ducked to gain access. A leg pounded onto the garage floor. It appeared humanoid in shape with a silver orb for a head.

Jenny clung to her boys.

The dust settled, revealing the creature’s intricacies. Cogs, pistons and hundreds of other tiny mechanisms all worked at once, the entire body of the machina giant a constant hive of movement. Compartments broke apart, only to be shifted around the body and reattached in another location. The immaculate polished components slid against each other, the reflections a hypnotic kaleidoscope.

The Megathon lurched forwards, scraping an arm against one of the remaining walls. Sparks sprayed out, the stone ground away simply by touch.

Screaming over the high-pitched whirring of the machine, Jenny grabbed her sons and dragged them backwards to the garage door. All three, seized by panic, pushed against the wood. Their red-haired visitor had locked them in.

The garage shook once more as the Megathon took another stride towards them. The sphere atop its shoulders spun, scattering light from the single bulb and casting a revolving light across the dusty walls.

Behind it, the dark hole of its entrance stood clear.

The boys clung to their mother, wailing in terror and gripping handfuls of her nightgown.

She tried to say something, but the dump of adrenaline warbled her words.

Both boys continued to shriek, casting terrified stares towards the approaching metal giant.

Releasing Adam, Jenny swung an open hand at Jake, slapping him hard against his cheek.

Jake blinked, his eyes focusing on his mother.

“Get out,” she cried.

She shoved to get him moving.

Jake grabbed the front of his brother’s tracksuit top and pulled him off their mother.

The Megathon had covered half the length of the garage. It walked into the makeshift table. The wooden top was instantly dragged into the machine, reduced to a shower of sawdust in seconds.

The flawless ball continued to rotate, and the creature walked on.

Jake, still tugging a hysterical Adam, clambered over the dog-eared sofa, keeping his back pressed against the wall.

Adam slipped and fell onto the green seat cushions. Jake pulled back him onto his feet.

“Come on,” Jake yelled, stepping off the sofa.

They crept alongside the Megathon, the giant steadily advancing towards the front of the garage, towards their mother.

“Mum,” Jake yelled.

Jenny stood frozen with her back against the door, the reflecting light from the Megathon dancing across her face.

“Go!” she shouted.

“No!”

“Get Adam out of here.”

The twins quickly sidled against the garage wall, arriving at the rear of the garage in seconds. Jake paused at the gaping hole and looked back.

“Mum, run!

She furiously shook her head. “Not until you’re both out,” she cried.

The Megathon stopped, its long arms dangling by its sides.

The seconds passed, and all three stared, mesmerized by the shifting silver network of mechanical complexity.

“Go,” hissed Jenny.

The Megathon jerked into movement, a hand reaching for her.

“No!” screamed Adam, breaking free of his brother’s grip and diving forwards.

2.

Adam dashed across the garage, skirting around the Megathon and ducking under a sweeping arm. He threw himself in front of his mother.

“Adam,” wailed Jake.

The Megathon’s hand reached Adam first. The razor sharp mechanics snagged and ripped through his tracksuit, plunging into the soft flesh of his chest.

He coughed, spraying blood into the air.

Adam convulsed as the Megathon tightened its grip, metal spikes as thin as needles erupting from its hand. The spikes penetrated between his ribs and pierced his lungs. It pulled the shuddering body free from Jenny.

Adam staggered towards the machine, blood trickling from his chin to join the spreading stain at his chest. A weak groan escaped from between his scarlet lips.

The machine embraced him.

His clothes ripped from his body, sucked into the Megathon and spewed from its back in a blizzard of fibres. His body exploded in a red geyser as he was yanked into the machine. Razor cogs reduced his face to a bloody mush, and gnashing gears ground his skull to wet powder.

Jake fell shuddering to his knees.

The skin tore from Adam’s stomach, and his intestines pulled free, unravelling from the dripping cavity and vanishing into the maze of silver. Body liquidised, the creature hauled in his legs and reduced them to gore in a blink.

The explosion of blood covered everything inside the garage. The walls and ceiling dripped. The pool on the floor deepened as more and more burst from the slowing Megathon.

Jenny slid down the door.

The Megathon roared into life once more, the silver orb, tarnished with red splatters, spinning faster. The spikes retracted into its hand. Delicate metal digits moved and realigned along with the rest of the workings.

It reached out for Jenny.

Jake staggered around the rear of the garage, arms flailing out. He attempted to blink the blood from his eyes. The stench of meat filled his nostrils, and an almost mineral taste soured his tongue. He heard the sobs of his mother beyond the robotic slaughterer.

“Mum?” he called, his voice a high-pitched and trembling whine.

“Get out, Jake,” she panted. “It’s me it wants. Save yourself.”

“I can’t leave you!” he wailed, darting to the side and spying her.

“It’s too late.”

The Megathon’s hand drew close to her chest, the twitching mechanical fingers trailing ribbons of torn flesh.

Jenny closed her eyes and dipped her head, hair blown by the air disturbed by the machine. Her nightgown snagged and pulled taut, suddenly tangled in the hand of the Megathon.

A loud
ting!
rang out, and her head jerked forwards.

The nightgown fell back against her chest. She opened her eyes and looked up.

The Megathon stood upright, towering over her. Its rotating head bumped against the garage ceiling, causing another rain of dust. It lifted its arms upwards.

Jake saw the machine wasn’t moving smoothly anymore, its motions marred by wrenches and shakes.

He glimpsed his mother’s wedding ring.

Caught in the mechanism of the creature’s hand, the ring sparkled among the blood-streaked metal. It vanished as the Megathon once again reconfigured, only to reappear at its shoulder. Jake watched the ring on its journey; disappearing in the stuttering cogs one second before emerging at another point on the silver humanoid.

The Megathon’s movement grew more erratic, still one moment, then thrashing its arms and stamping its feet the next.

Jenny flopped onto her front and crawled through the sticky mess on the floor, taking a wide arc to avoid the creature.

It scratched at its chest, fingers trying to pluck the diamond from the workings.

The ring lodged between two minute gears, the metal straining against the obstruction.

A cracking sound rang out as a spring popped free, flying out and hitting the wall. The sphere head spun faster. The machine appeared desperate to free the ring, ripping out small pistons and lattices of silver as it dug deeper.

The garage filled with noises of snapping metal and hissing, as pockets of pressure were released. Small parts blew away.

Jenny crawled faster, passing the Megathon and reaching Jake at the back of the garage. She grabbed the leg of his wet jeans and with help, managed to climb to her feet on the slippery floor.

“Mum!” he cried. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! Go! Go!”

He slid his arm around her waist and led her towards the gaping hole in the wall.

The head of the Megathon spun with a drill-like whine that echoed around the garage. Its wild lurching hammered against the walls, threatening to bring the building down.

Jake pushed his mother through the wide hole. The ascending noise of the machine inspired a fresh bout of panic that washed over his dulled senses.

Jenny fell in a heap on the cold grass, her soaked nightgown a clinging fabric lover.

Jake climbed through the hole and landed on his feet. Wasting no time, he grabbed Jenny under the arms and, roaring with effort, pulled her up. Together, they fled across the garden and towards the house.

From inside the garage, the music of destruction played on, reaching a crescendo with a deep explosion. The ground pulsed.

Jenny and Jake ran on, expecting the building to fall and to shower them with dust and metal at any moment. Clinging to each other, they passed the front of the garage and approached the house. Jake lurched to a halt, keeping hold of his mother’s nightgown and tugging her back.

“What are you doing?” she screamed, scrambling forwards and to break his hold. “We have to get inside and get help!”

“Look!”

She gazed up at the house.

The man in black stood inside by the kitchen window, watching their advance.

“No…”

Jake pulled at her arm. “It’s him. We have to go!” He struggled to move the weight of his mother.

“It was him,” she muttered. “He brought that machine…”

Jake grabbed her by the shoulders.

“I’ll kill him, Mum. I’m gonna fucking destroy him, for Adam. But not now.”

“His machine killed…it killed Ad-”

Jake burst into tears and shook her.

“We have to go!”

He dragged her past the snarling face of the man, down the side of the house and through the gates. They ran out onto the empty street.

“Where can we go?” Jenny bawled.

The McGuire house stood dark; all the curtains closed and the lights out.

“There,” Jake said, pointing down the street.

Frank Harper stood on the pavement outside his house, hand held over his eyes to block the glare from his porch light, watching them.

“Help us!” Jake shouted, hauling Jenny down the street. She limped along beside him, soaked red nightgown slapping against her belly as she ran.

“What the hell is going on?” Frank snapped. “Have you any idea what time it is? That damn music-”

“Get inside,” screamed Jake. “Get us inside and lock the door!”

Frank’s mouth hung open as they ran under the beam of a street light, showing the vast amount of blood covering the both of them.

“What the…?”

“Go,” gasped Jake.

Frank backed up a few steps then turned and ran back to the house. In the doorway, he yelled to Anne and stepped aside as mother and son dashed in. The hall instantly stank of raw meat.

“Lock the door,” howled Jake. “For God’s sake, lock the door!”

Prowlers

1.

Through the clear night sky, the glow of the moon illuminated Eleanor’s thin curtains, projecting a dusky light into the room. Her eyes, suffering from old age and her love for reading, struggled to focus. She stared at the furniture in her dim room. It all looked monochrome in such low light, like a photograph of a Victorian boudoir. Her wardrobe stood at the wall in front of her bed, tomorrow’s clothes already hung up and waiting. To its right, her chest of drawers, the surface full of glass bottles, jewellery boxes and packets of pills. Alternative medicines were all well and good, but nothing eased her arthritis like her little round friends.

Eleanor heard Joe’s bedroom door open and listened to him walk to the bathroom. She lay in bed, her back propped up by a heap of pillows. Even so mentally exhausted, sleep seemed a mere fantasy.

Though she’d waited for years for Arthur to come back, the events had rattled her.

And now I have James Elliot Hearnsworth to deal with…if that’s his real name.

His name made little difference, but his presence concerned her. Obviously, he had some knowledge on the strange events, otherwise why would he be here? And what of this mana he mentioned? She wondered what part it played in this phenomenon. The man left too many unanswered questions for Eleanor, even if she forgot about his photograph in the encyclopaedia.

Those big, blue eyes, so predatory
, she thought with a shudder.
He wanted something badly, and I don’t think we have it.

On the bright side, her headache had completely vanished. She hoped it wasn’t the start of something new, another irritation to add to her catalogue. She’d had her fill with joint pain and frailty. Migraines would simply be unfair. The pain had not returned, but she worried the painkillers merely kept it at bay.

Her biggest disappointment, which plagued her thoughts all day, was the wasted chance to contact Arthur. She refused to let this chance slip through her fingers, and no one could stop her. Not only could she be with Arthur again, but also her questions would be answered.

What lies on the other side?

If Hearnsworth wants this knowledge for himself, or just wants Arthur’s spirit gone, he’ll be in for a nasty surprise. I might be old, but I’m not completely helpless.