“What happened here? You’ve got to tell me.” She rolled her eyes when they both refused to look at her, crossed the shop and crouched down in front of them so they had no choice but to meet her gaze. “Look! Look at me! Do you honestly think I’m one of them?” she rasped. Her voice didn’t sound like her own, as if the words were coming from someone else’s mouth. “I’m not one of them – I want to help. Now, what happened?”
The two men still didn’t believe her and gave her guarded replies. It was frustrating but they were sensible to be wary. “The same things that’ve happened all over town.”
“Liatruz,” she croaked to herself, not needing any more proof. Amber-Louise hadn’t uttered that name in a long time, yet it was as familiar to her as her own. She took a quick glance around the ruined shop. The counter had been snapped at one end, there were some shelves on the floor and the cash register had been ripped from its settings and now hung empty. The door swung from one hinge and the lock had splintered – my damage so I’ll pay for that. I’ll ask Dad for an advance on my allowance… again. “Have they done this everywhere?”
“Most places. They’ve left a few places alone.”
“They’ve taken a lot of people, and one day I’ll get them back.” That last part was to herself, a promise to the people. “Where am I?”
“Standing in the middle of our shop,” said Wright Senior, seriously.
“I’ve been away for a long time; humour me. What town am I in?”
“Oldlingham,” the younger of the two men told her. “Where do you want to be?”
“Ideally, Deep Space. But, Millford. Any ideas how I can get there?” She knew that it was well over a hundred miles away, but it would take her a day to get there on foot and just a few hours by car. She wanted to complete her journey while it was still dark if she could but it was already nearly midnight. Ironically, for all the darkness Liatruz was unleashing on them, his zombie-like creatures were afraid of the dark – or more specifically, the moon and stars.
“Have you got a car?” They didn’t, but someone outside did. Amber didn’t exactly hijack the red sports car, but the young man driving did end up standing on the street corner. She slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.
“Right, how do you drive this thing?”
The porch steps seemed a nice place to spend the hours before sunrise, but Alex soon got restless and started walking around the neighbourhood.
Night. The time he could pretend that things were a mottled, sickly shade of normal. The only things that moved in the dark were some scrapping cats and dogs. He had gone out many times at night before, but he hated going out in the day. In daylight, the people he had dubbed the Black Masses trawled over the city like swarms of bees, though at night he might only see the odd one or two drifting about.
This was his town. Alex Watson-Jones wasn’t just going to sit back and watch the monsters take over. “The other way lies suicide. Guess which one I’m gonna choose?”
But what was he going to do about it, anyway? He didn’t know magick but for a few tricks; he couldn’t put the same edge on his fighting as his best mate; and he was change-of-underwear scared. That didn’t really make for a good sidekick. Which is all he was – a sidekick, a lackey, a hanger-on.
On his way back to his house Alex saw one of the Black Masses huddled in the alley, hiding from the moonlight. He opened his mouth to laugh at the sight, then stopped as he realised that the action could easily get his head torn from his shoulders. He wanted to know how his family and friends could be perfectly nice one day and more or less evil the next. It was also quite weird – and strangely funny – to know the big bad Black Masses were scared of the dark – like kids. It was satisfying to know that even they had weaknesses, just like everyone else. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something for him to work with.
Alex was the only one who really knew what was going on. He didn’t know how to stop it – fighting evil wasn’t his job – but no-one else was going to try.
“Too much thinking,” he mumbled. “I’ve gotta try… just don’t know how. Still, that never bothered her. She didn’t always know what she was doing – she just went for it. That’s what I need to do – find him and do whatever I can.” Nothing was ever that simple, he knew, and he might get killed right off. He would rest and think about it properly in the morning.
It was only when he was in his kitchen drinking warm chocolate milk that he remembered he had been watched on his way home. With any luck, the figure from the alley would’ve forgotten where he lived by daytime. Despite his best efforts to stay awake and alert, Alex began to drift off to sleep.
It was nearly an hour past dawn when the sound started outside the window…
Chapter 3
The car had been dumped after an hour – not the most inconspicuous mode of transport anyway. Amber-Louise had had to get out to blast her way through a literal wall of zombie-things, and had found the car wouldn’t start again. It had no petrol left in the tank. At first, she thought the engine was stalling but then she checked the gauge and closed the door, grumbling a whole paragraph of expletives. She left the keys in the ignition, knowing that it wouldn’t matter if the Porsche was found. Her fingerprints would be found and she might get arrested, which, to her shame, had happened before.
So, she had been forced to travel the last 20 or so miles on foot. It had only taken a couple of hours, even though she walked part of the way. She was absolutely wrecked and was glad that she hadn’t run into any other nasty surprises on her journey.
Alex awoke the very second the gentle tapping on the window started. His first thought was that the Black Masses had come for him already… but no, that was stupid. Why would they bother knocking, giving him warning, when prior experience told him that they usually just barged in, uninvited? Something inside told him that the person outside meant him no harm. A few seconds after the tapping had stopped, a short, sharp knock came on the glass pane in the door. Yawning, he got up to answer.
Standing on the porch was both the most wondrous and the most heart-rending sight he had ever seen. His heart went out to the haggard and dirty figure on the doorstep, and he smiled warmly.
“Hi,” she said, then collapsed, unconscious, over the threshold.
The beauty lying on Alex’s couch did not move except for the occasional twitch as disturbing images floated in and out of her mind. She looked appalling, with torn clothes and numerous minor injuries but under all the dirt, grime and dried blood was something beautiful. A thing to be treasured, and only Alex could see it. He hated to think about what she might have been through over the last half a year, but just looking at her brought home to him how lucky he had been. To have remaining relatively untouched by the sweeping horror; and to know someone strong enough to get through it, still smiling. For she wouldn’t let this get her down,
He had been watching her in her dreams for a while and, though he didn’t like the though, he desperately wanted to know what was going on in her head. Alex grinned as he remembered how she used to call him a perv for watching her sleep - good times. They might not have any of those for a while. Her dreams were always a mystery to him, and she hardly ever told him about them when he asked. Dreams were private so he didn’t push it, but things went on in her head that he couldn’t understand. Still, maybe if she told him things anyway, it might stop her from withdrawing into her own world so much. Secrets. They shared a lot of secrets and kept some too, though, granted, not as many as she kept from her father. From the movements she made in her sleep, Alex could usually guess whether she was having a good dream or a nightmare – the nightmares had become more common in the weeks before she went missing. And the movements she was making now suggested that it was another one. She looked beautiful, just lying there, asleep on the couch but for the trembling and Alex again wished he could do something to take that ever-present fear away.
r />
“My very own Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured.
The vision on the sofa stirred at the sound and ran a hand through her long, dirty hair. “Hey! D’ya miss me?” she yawned.
Alex whipped his head up at the familiar voice and hugged her, thanking God that it wasn’t just one amazing fantasy. It had been so long since he had heard that voice and, even though it was heavily tinged with hurt and pain, he knew that everything was going to be alright… one day. “Oh, Amber-Lou! I thought I’d lost you forever!”
“Why? You know you can’t keep a good witch down for long.” Amber-Louise pulled away from his warm, solid grip and lay back on the cushions. “I’m kinda hungry. Got anything to eat?” She sat up and proceeded to munch her way through half a packet of chocolate chip cookies that Alex had fetched her from the kitchen. “God, it’s been ages since I had anything decent to eat.” Which was true. She’d eaten a yoghurt the day before but that was a lifetime and 27 hours ago.
“What happened to you?”
“I really looked like Sleeping Beauty?”
“Yeah. But prettier. What happened to you, kiddo?”
“I’m prettier than a fairy tale character. That’s something to be proud of,” she mumbled absently, staring down at the packet of biscuits in her hand. “Cool.”
“Amber, tell me what happened?”
“I’m not going to tell you. It’ll give you horrible nightmares for the rest of your life, and you’re not ready for that. You keep reliving the same horrifying things over and over and over. And it’s not just when you sleep – it’s every time you close your eyes and blink. You’ll end up to scared to sleep, and do anything you can to stay awake. And you’re not ready for that,” she repeated.
You’re almost a year younger than me, Amber, so how did you get so much older? But, she was right, he wasn’t ready to hear it. “You’re right,” he admitted, at length. “I’m not ready for it, and I probably won’t handle it. But you have to understand that I need to know.” If she didn’t tell him, how was he meant to help?
“I’ll tell you when I’m ready, Alex. I’ve gotta get this all over with first; I need to make everything right before I worry about myself.”
“I’m here whenever you need me.” They hugged again and, this time, neither one of them wanted to let go. They had come so close to losing each. “Amber? Why did you come here instead of going straight home?”
“Please!” she scoffed, as if were a stupid question. “You think I can go home looking like this? My Dad’ll have a flippin’ heart attack.” She glanced down at her herself, disdainfully, and winced as she ripped the makeshift bandage from her arm. “Barbed wire,” she explained. “I was climbing over the fence and they started chasing me. Leg – glass. Lip – emergency brake.” She gasped and drew back as he tried to wipe some of the glass shards from the congealed leg wound. “Sorry – sore.”
“You should get this checked out.”
“I’ll be alright. I just had a few run-ins with the zombies. I think I need a shower and some clean clothes.”
Upstairs, Amber-Louise stood beneath a scalding hot shower, feeling the hot jets of water hit her skin. Washing away the sickly stench of failure, something that had been haunting her for the past 3 ½ months. She had failed in her duties; left the people she was sworn to protect vulnerable to this attack. Never again. She needed to make this right again – if only to prove herself worthy of the honour the Sisterhood had seen fit to bestow upon her. Amber-Louise knew that the Sisterhood could get rid of her, take away her special powers, at any time and she was determined not to let that happen. She couldn’t lose that.
Part of her, though, felt entirely responsible for what had happened. She hadn’t just failed the Sisters or the people, but herself too. She hadn’t stopped it before, at the right time, and she might not be able to now. Even if she did, it might be too late. And that was a scary thought. A tiny voice in her head told her that she shouldn’t feel so guilty. After all, Liatruz had caused the deaths of many other Sisters who were older and more experienced than she. There was no shame in defeat. “But he’s not going to defeat me.” It didn’t sound very convincing but, at least, she had now made that decision. “I can’t lose this fight.”
Unwilling to leave the warm cocoon of the shower, Amber stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Using another towel to dry her hair, she cast her mind back to something Alex had said. I’m here whenever you need me. He could have meant a lot of different things when he said that, like whenever you need to talk, but what he really meant was pretty clear. Alex wasn’t nearly as powerful as she was, he himself had said that they were in different leagues, but he was willing to try and that meant a lot. More even than if Amber-Louise could beat Liatruz by herself.
It meant that she wasn’t alone.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked the mirror, hoping that there would be some kind of answer hidden in her reflection. If she could just talk to some-one who had faced him before… But there was no-one; they were all dead. “I don’t know what to do?”
She left the bathroom and dragged her feet into Alex’s room. She threw herself onto the bed and shouted into the pillow. She was frustrated.
“Hey. Guess I must’ve looked a bit of a mess when you saw me,” Amber said as she skipped down the stairs dressed in a pair of his old jeans and a baggy t-shirt. She could change into her own clothes when she got home.
“On the outside, yeah,” Alex admitted. “You did look a bit wrecked. You look tired; why don’t you stay here and rest a bit longer?”
“I better get home and check on Dad.” She wrapped her finger round a clump of her wet hair and fiddled with it, leaning back against the wall as her legs tried to remember how to work.
“Hey, what about your injuries. Don’t they hurt?”
“A little bit. You know, I think that shower did the trick. Plus, I feel awake now.” That was a lie. She wanted to sleep, just for an hour or so, but nightmares kept her awake. Fed-up of talking about herself –like I’m the most interesting person in the world, or something – she changed the subject. “Did they get your parents?”
“Who? The Black Masses?” Something dulled his eyes. “My family, my friends. They got them all. When they came, I hid in the basement so they wouldn’t find me. I wanted to stop them but… I was scared.”
Amber-Louise took his had and looked at him. “Alex, hiding was the best thing to do.” She wanted to add, “the safest, too,” but quickly thought the better of it. “I’m sorry, and I wish I could have stopped it. If I’d just done my job properly –“
“Ssh.” He put his finger to her lips to silence her. “It’s not like you didn’t try. And you’ll do it – I know you will.”
“One half of the city has been turned into these Black Masses, and the other half are scared stiff. It’s not our city any more – it’s theirs.”
They were both quiet as they thought about how true that was. Hardly anybody left their houses any more, day or night. “Speaking of, you’d better get home before they come back.” He smiled weakly and saw her out.
As he closed the door behind him, he realised that, what he thought was, his worst nightmare had come true.
Shayla Pincent was in her 30s, but as her life flashed before her eyes, she realised that she hadn’t done much in those years. Got married at 22, had a couple of kids (twin boys), got a steady job as a receptionist, followed by a car and a mortgage when they were financially settled. That wasn’t how she wanted to be remembered – safe, but boring. She wanted to be remembered as the woman who did something with her life, who lived each day to its fullest.
She’d never done any of the things she now wished she had. Never been bungee jumping, never took that second honeymoon to St Lucia, never learnt how to scuba dive. Always too scared that she might die doing these things, and now she was certain that
she would die without having the chance to do them. And that was worse.
She had bought a silver Metro instead of the black Jaguar she’d always wanted. She’d taken a family holiday in Devon most years, rather than missing a few and splashing out on a month in St Lucia with her husband. They’d bought a three bedroomed semi in the country, and not the large flat in the city centre which was only just within in their reach. Got a full-time job as a receptionist at the clinic where she’d been for over a decade; never took those acting classes she dreamed of.
Safe.
Always planning ahead, always making sure they lived within their budget. They’d never taken a chance; never bought something that might put them in debt; never done anything that might be considered in the least bit dangerous or risky. That was her problem, she realised, she was afraid to take risks. She wanted to live on the edge and made all these spectacular plans, but she never went through with any of them. She was safe.
As she struggled and strained against the leather gloved hand covering her mouth, these thoughts rapidly turned into regrets.
Chapter 4
A short time before, Richard Tully had been peering through the thick blue curtains, watching the sun rise to its highest point in the sky. The sun had long since passed that point and he’d grown bored of watching the same people pacing the streets. He had seen the scene a hundred times before, but always found himself oddly compelled to watch. He had come to a conclusion on the unnatural activity outside. It was about control, authority and ownership.
He was folding laundry, thinking about nothing in particular, when the door opened. For a brief instant he thought it might be his imagination when the form of his daughter came to rest in the kitchen doorway. He was surprised to see her, especially in the middle of the day, but he didn’t let his shock show. “Hi, sweetpea.”
“Hi, Dad. How are you?” She didn’t feel like she was talking to her dad, but a stranger. She hoisted the too-large jeans up and fixed her hands on her hips to hold them there. “I’ve, um, been staying with Aunt Kathy.”