primal storm raging down the lane. It was as if the diva of weather was throwing an almighty tantrum. Sheets of cold rain slanted at an angle, driven by a fierce banshee wind. Rose’s eyes watered making it difficult to penetrate the dreadful night. She could barely make out the figure before on the doorstep that was only partially illuminated by the outside security light. But her immediate concern was focused on maintaining her grip on the front door while the squally wind tried to prise it from her.
“Evening” she had to raise her voice over the roaring tempest. Her eyes adjusted and she noticed the visitor was dressed in the black and yellow uniform of a fireman. Rain splashed heavily off his faded helmet under which his face was shrouded in darkness. Rivulets of rainwater streamed down his shinny jacket and trousers splashing into the water-logged car park. For a moment it looked like there was a second fireman silhouetted behind him but it was probably just shadows from the trees overhead. It was difficult to see anything clearly out there beyond the pale illumination of the house lights. The fireman cleared his throat loudly and without any preamble gave his muffled assessment: “The River has broken its banks by the bottom of the lane so we’ve got to get everyone out”. The storm was so strong Rose had trouble hearing him over the white noise of wind rushing through the trees that surrounded the driveway. As a result the distortion lent his voice a rough gurgling quality. So maybe she had misheard him because, she observed, there were no vehicles behind him on the driveway to evacuate anyone in. Plus, he clearly didn’t know the nature of the kids who lived here and ‘just moving them out’ would not be straightforward. Rose promptly made him aware of this fact, having to raise her voice over the howling wind.
“Just bring the children downstairs and we’ll deal with them, love”. He coughed again.
Love? Rose would respond to most names and she’d been called just about everything under the sun, but Love was a pet hate. Her disquiet momentarily forgotten, she drew herself up to her full imposing stature – there was a reason she wore the number one jersey in the pack. She explained again, wincing into the driving rain, that she couldn’t just get the kids!
“The river’s burst its banks and the water is heading down the lane” the stranger burbled again punctuated by an impatient cough. “I’ve come to help evacuate everyone here. How many children are in the home?” he pressed her, stepping past her into the porch. Rose briefly considered pushing him back out of the door. He may be taller but she had the weight advantage. Although, saying that he was here to help them, apparently. Love!
The blustery rain chilled Rose and she wanted to shut the door again. But the drip drip drip of uneasiness that had been slowly rising all evening was now warning her not to shut the door. Suspicion now lapped at the forefront of Rose’s mind, carried by her encounter with Hayden earlier. His words about Riverman coming now returned to unsettle her further. God, she could do with a pint, or six, of Stella. She had to get rid of this man, for some reason he wasn’t being straight with her. Where was his fire engine?
“I’m sorry you can’t come in here” Rose asserted herself, blocking the inner door that led from the porch into the hallway. He wasn’t getting past her into the house. The shadows cast by the outside light danced in the porch again lending Rose the brief sense that the stranger was not alone. It lasted less than a second and was gone like before. But Rose had seen it twice now.
“I can’t just evacuate everyone” Rose stated again. “I’ve got vulnerable children here and I’m… I can’t allow anyone to enter without ID”. She almost said she was on her own with the kids but some paranoid instinct told her keep that fact to herself.
The fireman hovered. He could at least take his helmet off – Rose didn’t like talking to someone without seeing their face. Then she saw that shadow again, just to the stranger’s left. It was like the afterimage you get when you stare at a bright light. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. There had been something and she could have sworn it had looked directly at her. Her growing unease would need some kind of release soon before it flooded her completely. Something wasn’t right. She sensed movement behind her, felt someone silently creeping up on her. Things were about to kick off! A chill, like spiders running down her spine prickled her flesh. She tensed, ready for the fight. Rose was about to turn around when the power went out. The house was plunged into an electrifying darkness; the hallway flooded with menace. She managed to move backwards away from the visitor before her limbs froze in the tense static silence.
Bizarrely, in the darkness her first thoughts went to Hayden again. Although there was so much that he didn’t understand about the world, he did seem have an unnatural insight into both life and death. He had a disturbing intelligence; he knew things that he couldn’t possibly know. In split-second clarity Rose recalled the day her dog Benny had to be put down and Hayden’s words to her. She hadn’t said anything to anyone at work and was doing her hourly room checks. When she had looked in on Hayden to check he was sleeping when he suddenly sat up in bed and looked directly at her.
“Benny’s gone away. He doesn’t hurt anymore”. Rose, stunned had just looked at him. In the morning she’d asked him how he knew Benny but he didn’t answer. His black expression told Rose his mind was elsewhere again. He was no doubt puzzling over another incomprehensible detail of everyday life. Some detail that most non-autistic people accepted instinctively as the norm.
The memory vanished as Hayden wailed loudly from the stairs. The sound bringing a sense of relief, for once, that it was only him behind her.
“It’s OK Hayden” she said without conviction, warily keeping her eyes on the outline of the intruder by the door. “You’ll wake the others. The back-up lights will come on in a minute… there” as she spoke the dim emergency lights came on. “Stop being a nosey-parker and get back in bed”. The shallow glow illuminated the hallway and, to her concern, Rose saw the fireman had taken another step closer. He now stood, dripping, inside the hallway. Behind him, a second figure hovered, clearly visible, but just for a moment before it vanished again. Something was in the house that shouldn’t be. From nowhere the word Groac’h splashed into her mind. She had no idea what it meant or where it came from. It was probably something she’d heard Hayden say.
“Where are the children?” the intruder demanded, his wet phlegmy voice beginning to annoy Rose and she decided she needed to end this, now.
“You need to wait outside” she told him firmly, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder searching for the source of that weird flickering shadow. “You can’t come in. I need to phone my manager to let her know what’s happening”.
“No time” the fireman said flatly in a voice that left no room for debate. “The water’s coming for you all”. Odd choice of words, Rose thought with a grimace as the fireman noisily cleared his throat yet again. Then Hayden started shouting.
“No, Flicker” he suddenly yelled in a voice charged with emotion. “No!” Rose turned her head a fraction and out of the corner of her eye she half glimpsed the reflection of the shadow again. Hanging in the hallway above the phone was a birds-eye photo of Hillside Grange. Reflected in the glass; Rose saw the dark shape she had glimpsed earlier. Only she could see the sinister apparition clearly now: It’s thin and gangly form was all limbs and long fingers as it flickered in and out of focus. It was almost rippling as if viewed from underwater. Its nightmare form was creeping into the hallway. The phantom image faltered, flashed and, flickered again. Rose guessed this spectre was Flicker.
Above her on the stairs Hayden was shouting and Rose realised the boy could see this thing and he was scared of it. Somehow Hayden knew what Flicker was, Rose realised, and he knew what it wanted. But more worryingly, Flicker was coming for her.
In the reflected image of the hallway Flicker was almost upon her. She spun around from the picture expecting to come face to face with it. But as she turned, she was just met with the empty space between her and the fireman. In that brief moment o
f confusion everything seemed to stop. She was aware of the now silent rainfall lashing in from the open door behind the intruder. The mute wind tossed the curtains about along the wall. Nothing else moved in the hallway. There was no sign of Flicker, at first. But then she felt it: A cold torrent suddenly flowed up her arm, as if she’d dipped it into a bucket of freezing cold water. Then the sensation leaked up her arm and spread into her chest, filling her stomach. She bent over coughing violently as the cloying sensation took her throat. Her vision swam and the hallway wavered for a moment and she coughed again sharply. There was something in her throat. Disorientation spun her around as if she were in a whirlpool. Before the hallway lost its focus her eyes caught sight of the fireman’s features for the first time. Confusion quickly turned into horror. She couldn’t dwell on it otherwise she would lose the plot. But she could not un-see what she had seen. The fireman or whatever he beneath that helmet had a pale bloated face was streaked with blue veins. Lifeless milky-white eyes started at her vacantly. Some kind of algae or pond weed was draped over his clothes in slimy green loops. Thankfully her