The Collector Book One: Mana Leak (47 page)

Jake coughed and winced, holding his side, before answering.

“He was, but then he gave up. I figured he’d come back to go after you. I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“I haven’t seen him either,” said Joe. “I don’t suppose he could have gone back, do you?”

The both looked at the blazing car.

“Be sweet if he did,” said Jake. “Maybe Frank knows something.”

Joe closed his eyes.

“Well…something happened in my grandmother’s house. Frank is…he’s…”

“Joe! Look!”

Joe opened his eyes and followed Jake’s pointing finger to the car.

The surface of the road flowed up the sides of the burning vehicle as it lowered. A hole swelled beneath it and sucked the car down. In seconds, only the top of the twisted windscreen frame could be seen just above the surface.

“If the door was blown shut,” said Jake, “shouldn’t the road be back to normal?”

“I…I presume so…”

The last of the car slipped beneath the coal-black surface. The road returned to a lazy whirlpool.

“It’s still there,” said Jake, looking at Joe with wide eyes. “And if it’s still there…”

“It’s still open,” finished Joe.

They both jumped in surprise as the front door of the Harper house flew open with a clatter.

13.

Anne opened her eyes at the sound of an explosion from outside. She blinked and scanned the dark landing from the floor. Her mouth had filled with a coppery taste. She spat on the carpet and licked her lips.

What happened?

Anne sat up. She raised her hands to her face and winced at the pain she found there. Her skin felt tender and swollen. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of her lip and down her chin. She wiped it away.

What happened last night? It’s not like Frank to just leave me lying unconscious on the landing. He would at least put me to bed to stop the kids from seeing.

The kids.

Anne glanced at the closed door to Bronwyn’s room.

Oh no
, she thought, climbing to her feet. The ground shifted, and the wall tilted before her eyes, but she stayed balanced. It all came back in an instant: the chase, the creature, the children.

Anne kicked the door.

“Get out here right now, Jenny!”

There was no reply.

“Fuck you,” cried Anne, kicking the door harder. She turned and headed downstairs, clutching at the banister to save diving down the steps headfirst.

A thin figure lay crumpled at the bottom.

“Eleanor!”

Anne rushed down the last few steps, jolts pounding through her fuzzy head. She crouched beside the still body of the old woman.

“Eleanor! Are you awake?”

Eleanor groggily opened an eye.

“Anne? Is…that you?”

“Yes! Are you hurt?”

Eleanor writhed slightly on the floor.

“Yes…but only a few bruises, I think. Nothing serious.”

“Where are they, Eleanor?” cried Anne. “My children! Where are they?”

Eleanor shook her head.

“I…I don’t know. That…thing threw me down the stairs and then…I don’t know.”

Anne stood up and spun away from her. She ran through the kitchen and into the back garden. No sign. She returned to the hall, and Eleanor had managed to sit up. Anne poked her head into the living room.

“They’re gone. There’s no sign of them anywhere!”

“They could be in the bedroom with Jenny,” Eleanor offered.

“That bitch won’t answer me,” said Anne. “I doubt she had the guts to open the door anyway. Eleanor, it’s…it’s…”

“Don’t think the worst,” said Eleanor. “There would’ve been some sign if it had…”

“If it had eaten them? Like the blood of my children splashed up the walls?”

Eleanor hung her head.

“I’m sorry, but yes. If there’s no sign upstairs, it hasn’t…well…you know…”

Anne dashed past her and clicked the lock on the front door open.

“Anne? What are you doing?”

“I have to go after them,” she wailed. “I have to find them.”

Eleanor held up a shaking hand.

“Wait. You can’t just go out there!”

“I have to get my kids!”

“Getting yourself killed won’t help anyone,” Eleanor shouted. “Anything could be out there.”

“My children are out there, that’s all I need,” said Anne. She swung the door open and stepped outside.

Sat on the wall, Joe and Jake looked back in surprise.

Thank God…

“What are you doing here?” asked Joe, shouting across the garden. “You’re meant to be gone!”

Anne ran over, tears cascading down her throbbing cheeks.

“Oh no,” said Joe. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

Anne tried to talk, but her sobs raked her body, leaving her words unformed. She released a long wailing noise.

“My mum!” cried Jake. “Is my mum all right?”

Anne just wept.

Jake jumped off the wall and ran up the garden, not looking at Anne as he passed her. He vanished into the house, calling his mother’s name.

Anne staggered over to Joe.

“Is it my grandmother?” pleaded Joe. “Please tell me she’s okay!”

Anne nodded.

“Speak to me!”

“They’re…gone,” she gasped. “My kids…they’re gone…”

“No,” said Joe. “No, they can’t…”

From behind them, Eleanor stepped out of the house.

“Joseph? She limped closer. “Joseph? Look at you!” She hobbled down the garden path.

Anne broke down in tears again.

“The children,” Joe said to his grandmother. “What happened to the children?”

“His creature, his pet. It got into the house and took them. Have you seen anything?”

“Only a few Prowlers, but then we blew up the car…” Joe nodded to the whirlpool.

Eleanor turned and set eyes on it for the first time.

“It’s the doorway,” said Joe. “It swallowed the car and stayed open. All this was for nothing.”

“Where are my children?” Anne screamed, falling against the wall. Eleanor slid her arms around her shoulders.

“We’ll find them,” she said. She looked around. “Maybe Frank knows. He’s not here so I presume…”

Joe shook his head and looked away.

“Joseph?”

Anne looked up through shimmering eyes. “Where’s Frank?” She sniffed.

Joe stared at the whirlpool, refusing to meet her eyes.

“They…they got him. Frank’s dead.”

14.

Jake banged on the bedroom door again.

“Mum, open the door!”

Looking at the state of Anne and the old woman, he was glad his mother had the sense to get to safety. He held her wedding ring tightly in his fist. He pounded the door again.

“Mum! Come on! It’s me!”

Unease stirred in his guts. His mum had always let him inside. What if something was wrong? What if she’d had a stroke or heart attack because of all of this? Jake was aware his mother was not a fit woman and her body might have finally given into the stress.

He knocked again.

“Mum. You’re scaring me. If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll smash it down!”

He held his ear against the door and listened for any sign of movement. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

“I’m coming in,” he called.

Jake took a few steps back and ran at the door. He leaned in at the last movement, smashing the wood with his uninjured shoulder. He hissed as the impact sent vibrations through his body, irritating his raw patches of skin.

The door shook in its frame. Another three barges and it loosened. Growling, Jake kicked the door just below the handle. The door swung open.

Jake stepped inside the bedroom.

He shielded his eyes from the sunlight that flooded the room. The door, which had previously been nailed against the window, lay on the carpet. It had been split in two. The glass contained a jagged hole, the edges catching the sun in pinpricks of light.

Jenny sat on the bed, looking out of the window. Her hunched back faced Jake.

“Mum?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “What happened?”

Jenny sat still.

“Anne’s outside going fucking hysterical, saying the kids are gone. Tell me what’s going on!”

He reached for her shoulder and squeezed it.

Jenny fell back on the mattress, and Jake sprang back. Her open eyes stared into space. A thin line of blood ran from the edge of her lip and down her chin, emerging from her open mouth.

“Mum? No!”

Her stomach shuddered. Looking down, Jake saw a large eye within the folds of her ripped T-shirt. With a squelch, it turned to look at Jake.

He froze.

A long and slender claw emerged from the hole the Prowler nestled in. A flap of ragged skin caught on its tip as it poked out. The Prowler’s legs, glistening red, slid from Jenny’s stomach. With a noise that sounded like a kiss, the Prowler popped its body free.

Jake slowly moved his hand around to the side and feeling the cold head of the hammer, tried to pull it out of his belt.

The Prowler stepped out of Jenny’s body, leaving behind a pulpy, wet pit. It walked across the bed, spattering blood across the mattress.

Jake slid the hammer upwards, out of his belt. He grabbed the handle.

The Prowler saw this quick movement and fled for the window.

Jake leapt forwards, the hammer raised.

The Prowler skittered across the wall and disappeared through the hole in the window.

Jake dropped the hammer and fell to his knees beside the bed.

She can’t be dead. She can’t be.

She’s my mum!

He raised his head and looked at her.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Jake trembled. He released a long howl.

“Not you,” he cried, punching the bed. “Not you!”

Jenny stared up at the ceiling, her mouth a perfect circle.

Jake wiped his soaking eyes with the back of his hand and reached towards his mother’s face. He unhooked her glasses and folded them neatly, placing them beside her body. He gently closed her eyes and took her hand. It felt heavy and clammy.

“I…I found this,” he said, holding up her wedding ring in his other hand. He sniffed. “I wanted to make you happy. I wanted you to be proud.”

He burst into tears and collapsed against the bed, his forehead resting on the edge of the mattress. Tears and mucus covered his face. He banged a fist on the floor.

“Why?” he sobbed. “Not my mum.
Not my mum!”

His cries erupted as hacking coughs. His chest tightened. He took a deep breath, sucking in enough air to fuel the next fit of weeping. He squeezed his mother’s hand.

Jake looked up as a sigh escaped Jenny’s throat.

He waited, unsure if he had heard the sound, or if his grief-addled mind teased him. He swallowed and gazed at the damage the Prowler had done to her. So close, he saw the dark pink and purple organs packed together. It smelled like tripe.

Jake dropped his mother’s hand and scooted back across the carpet. His back hit the wall, and he retched. A slimy string of spit flew from his mouth and dangled from his bottom lip. His stomach clenched again, but being empty, nothing more came out. He wiped his mouth and turned back to his mother.

What’s happening?

Blue light shone out of Jenny’s mouth as though from a gas-powered pumpkin head. The light grew intense in seconds, leaping out of her in blue flames. The fire rose from her face and gathered in the air above her, suspended like a flickering cloud. It burned in silence and drifted towards the window.

Jake quickly stood up.

Not my mum
, he thought again.
She’s not going to end up like the rest.

He approached the floating mana. It had reached the glass of the broken window. His hands passed through on trying to grab it, his skin instantly chilled by the flames. The fire began to seep through the hole, escaping outside.

“No,” Jake cried. More frantic attempts to grab it met the same result. He watched the last of the flames leave the small bedroom. He rushed to the window.

The mana glided through the air, attracting the attention of Joe, Anne and Eleanor, still by the garden wall. It drifted over their heads and towards The Collector’s doorway.

“Don’t let it,” Jake shouted, banging his fists against the window. “Please!”

Joe turned to look at him for a second and then returned to watch the mana.

“Please,” Jake screamed.

The blue flames spiralled down towards the centre of the whirlpool, sucked down, water going down a plughole.

“No,” cried Jake a final time.

The last of the mana slipped down into the swirling road.

Turning from the window, he approached the bed and pulled the bundle of duvet from the floor. He quickly draped it over his mother’s body, pausing to kiss her on the forehead. He covered her face.

Jake wiped his eyes, clearing his vision a little. He returned to the broken window.

I’m…alone,
he realised.
Adam and Mum are gone. There’s only me left now.

Mum…not my mum…

He rested his head against the glass, slumping against the window. Movement outside caught his eye.

There’s only one thing I can do for you now
, he thought,
watching the living darkness spread down the street. Just one thing…

15.

Joe grabbed Anne by the shoulders and shook her, fighting the numerous throbbing pains running through his body.

“Anne, you have to calm down!”

Anne gasped in huge, quick breaths. Joe didn’t know if she was asthmatic, but she was definitely having some kind of panic attack.

“Mana…” she choked. “Children…dead…mana…”

“We don’t know that,” said Eleanor. “That could have come from anywhere!”

Anne shuddered. “I know…they’re dead…”

Joe swallowed, his hands falling away from Anne as he looked over her shoulder.

“No, they’re not. Look!”

The tapping of hundreds of Prowler steps grew louder. They progressed down Penny Crescent. At the head of the black mass, The Collector walked with a wide smile cut across his face. Charlie and Bronwyn passively stumbled along either side of him. He held their hands. The children wore no expressions; they stared forwards like zombies. Their skin was pale, and their mouths hung open and loose. Their feet fell over each other as they ambled forwards.