High Moor (34 page)

John knew that he was responsible for this. All of it. If he’d stayed away, then nine people would still be alive. The guilt gnawed at his already frayed nerves. More people were going to die today, and those lives would be on his conscience as well. He cursed himself.

They left the town and drove along a series of winding country lanes until they arrived at two huge metal gates that slid open to allow them inside. They pulled up to the farmhouse and Steven got out of the car. John was about to follow when Steven shook his head.

“You probably want to stay here for a minute, until I turn the security systems off.”

“Why? You worried I might sneak a look at your alarm code?”

Steven chuckled and then fought to suppress a cough. “No, the security system has a few special features. Just knowing the code won’t really help. Wait here and you’ll see what I mean.”

Steven opened the front door and stepped inside. A penetrating, high-pitched shriek rang out from the house. John gasped in pain and clamped his hands over his ears as the sound reverberated inside his skull. Three seconds later, the ultrasonic alarm cut out and Steven stepped out of the front door.

“OK, now you can come in.”

John got out of the car and followed Steven inside the house. His ears were still ringing, and he felt nauseated. “Can’t say I’m loving your anti-werewolf alarm. How the hell did you afford this lot on an ex-copper’s pension?”

“Carl. The old bastard left me everything in his will, on the condition that I carry on with his work. Ten million quid. And that was back when ten million was considered a lot of money. He knew I was screwed, financially. Laura had just left, and I was suspended without pay. Son of a bitch knew I wouldn’t be able to say no.” Steven pointed to a door, further down the hall. “There’s a shower in there. Get yourself cleaned up. No offence, but you smell like an abattoir. I’ll get some coffee on, and then we can try to figure out our next move.”

***

John emerged from the shower to the smell of frying bacon. He got dressed in a clean T-shirt and baggy sweat pants that Steven had put outside of the bathroom door, and followed his nose to the living room.

Steven looked up from his desk as John entered the room. “You took your time. My ex-wife was faster in the shower.”

John shrugged. “You know how it is. After last night, I needed to do a lot of scrubbing. Even then, the stain never really goes away.”

Steven turned back to the desk. “Well, there’s some bacon sarnies and coffee on the table. Help yourself and then come take a look at this.”

John took two bacon rolls from a serving dish and poured himself a large black coffee, then joined Steven at the desk.

Steven had spread out an ordinance survey land-ranger map of the area in front of him. Coloured pins with yellow Post-it notes beside each one adorned the map. He pointed to a red pin. “It looks like your friend changed while he was still at home, around six o clock last night. The next attack took place roughly four hours later, here,” he said, and pointed to a yellow pin in the centre of the Coronation Estate. “And then the last two happened here, in the town centre, just before eleven. After that, there’s no sign of him until he shows up at three a.m. in the woods. The purple pin is where my hide was located. The orange one is where he attacked your friend.”

“So, where did he go after that? Back into the woods?”

“I hope not, for our sake. I’m just not sure where else he could go. He can’t have gone home. The place will be crawling with police and reporters by now. He can’t have walked naked through a housing estate carrying an unconscious naked woman either. If he’s found a lair in the woods, then we’re screwed. Tracking him will be nigh on impossible, and he’d know we were coming long before we spotted him. You knew him. Can you think of anywhere that he might have taken Marie?”

John shook his head. “I knew him when we were kids, but I’ve only been in contact with him once since then, and it’s not like we talked about much. He was too busy kicking the crap out of me. I’ve got no idea where he might have gone.”

Steven pulled out a chair for John and took a sip from his coffee. “Well, grab a pew and let’s see if we can work it out.”

***

14th November 2008. King's Close School, High Moor. 11.14
.

Marie awoke to find herself lying on a cold, concrete floor. The back of her neck still ached, and she felt the sting of several open wounds across her naked body. Her arms and legs were bound so tight that her fingers and toes were numb. She ran a mental inventory of her wounds, and, when she was satisfied that nothing important was missing, opened her eyes.

The room was large, windowless, and constructed from rough concrete blocks. Metal pipes ran along the ceiling, and rows of steel shelves stacked with cleaning equipment and tools ran in parallel lines along the entire length of the room. An industrial gas boiler growled in the far corner. Opposite the boiler was a concrete staircase that led up to a single wooden door. The stink of bleach hung in the air.

She rolled over onto her side and then sat up, wincing as the electrical cable bit into her wrists and ankles. She ignored the pain and wriggled in an attempt to slacken her bonds.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Marie jumped at the voice and craned her head to find the source.

Malcolm Harrison squatted in the corner of the basement, behind the boiler. He was naked and covered in dried blood. His face was hidden in the deep shadows, but his eyes gleamed out from the darkness.

“Malcolm. You need to listen to me.”

Malcolm shuffled forward on all fours and grinned at her. “I don’t need to do anything, bitch. I’m the fucking alpha here, and you do what I say, or else. Got it?”

“I know what’s happened to you is confusing, Malcolm, but I can help, if you’ll let me. I work for some people. People like us. I find others and bring them into the family. Teach them about what’s happened. How to live with it. How to control it.”

Malcolm snorted and the bones of his right hand began to contort and stretch. “I can control it just fine. I don’t need your help or anyone else’s.”

“Do you have any idea what you did last night? The number of people you killed? The police will be looking for you. Everyone will be looking. Eventually they’ll find you, and then they’ll either kill you or dissect you in a lab. I can get you out of the country. Get you somewhere safe. But first, you need to untie me.”

Malcolm shuffled closer and brought a single talon up under her chin, pushing her head back. “This is my place. My lair. Let them come. I’ll kill them all.”

“You can’t kill everyone. I know you feel invincible now, but that’s just your beast talking. You’re letting it take over, and soon you’ll just be a little voice in the back of its mind. You say that you’re an alpha? You’re not even in charge of yourself at the moment, let alone anyone else. If you don’t take control of the situation, then you’re going to spend the rest of your life pissing against trees in the woods. This is your last chance, Malcolm. Let me go and let me help.”

Malcolm pushed his face forward so that he was almost nose to nose with Marie. His lip was curled up in a snarl as he spoke. “You’re going nowhere. You’ll see. I’ll kill your friend John, and then you’ll know that I’m the strongest.”

Marie shook her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

14th November 2008. Steven’s House, High Moor. 14.26
.

John slammed his fist against the wall. “This is useless. We’re getting nowhere.”

Steven sat back and cricked his neck. “Maybe we should take a break and look at it with fresh eyes. I need a smoke.”

John walked back across to the table and looked at the map again. The woods were bounded by the river to the north and a mixture of housing estates and open farmland to the south, east, and west. There were no obvious places where he could exit the woods without being seen. Nowhere that indicated where he might go. Perhaps Steven was right. He needed a break. He walked across to the table, poured himself a glass of water, turned on the television, and selected the BBC news channel.

The same woman that John had seen reporting on the initial attack was back in town and didn't look happy about it. She read her report with the expression of someone that had just been served uncooked road-kill in a five-star restaurant. “So far, no further bodies have been discovered. Mr Malcolm Harrison, a janitor at the local school, is still missing, and further missing persons' reports have been filed for several of his acquaintances. Police are, at this time, refusing to comment on any connection between the disappearances and the deaths that occurred last night.”

John turned off the television and checked the map again. King’s Close School, the place that Malcolm had burned to the ground as a child, lay nestled within a housing estate, but one side of the school field bordered Mill Woods. The school was less than half a mile from where Marie had been attacked. And all of the schools were closed. John ran from the room, out to the garden where Steven was smoking a cigarette.

“What? Can’t a bloke finish his ciggie in peace?”

John grinned. “You can finish that later. Come on. I think I know where they are.”

***

14th November 2008. King's Close School, High Moor. 17.44
.

John and Steven sat in the back of a white transit van, parked in a residential street close to the school. Steven had helped John prepare. He’d scrubbed himself raw with unscented soap, brushed his teeth with baking soda, and had been doused in a nasty chemical spray that burned his skin. He’d then been ushered into the back of the van wearing nothing but a towel, and Steven had driven to their destination.

John shuffled on the wooden seat. “Did I mention that this is a stupid plan?”

“You did. Several times. Unfortunately you didn’t come up with any better suggestions, so this is the one we’re going with. You know what you have to do?”

“Yeah. It’s not me that I’m worried about. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Steven laughed. “Like hell. Again, not really seeing an alternative. Come on, it’s almost time. Get your gear on.”

John removed an airtight container that held a full set of clothing, including boots. All the items had been sprayed with the scent eliminator after they’d been washed. John broke the seal and dressed as quickly as he could. Steven handed him a pistol.

“You sure that pop gun’s going to be enough? I’ve got plenty of guns with more punch.”

“It’s fine. I’ll stick with what I know.”

“OK. You ready?”

John fought down the butterflies in his stomach and managed a weak smile. “As I’ll ever be.” He opened the rear door of the van and stepped outside. “Good luck.”

Steven nodded. “You too, John, you too.”

***

14th November 2008. King’s Close School, High Moor. 17.57
.

Marie wriggled and tried to get comfortable. She couldn’t feel her hands and feet anymore, and she worried that if she didn’t get out of her bonds soon, she'd be damaged beyond her ability to heal. Dead flesh didn’t get better. It stayed dead.

Malcolm paced the basement. He’d been doing it for over an hour now, and it was getting on Marie’s nerves. She supposed that it was an improvement on the hours before that, when Malcolm had just crouched in the corner and stared at her.

“Malcolm, you need to undo these cables or I’m going to lose my hands and feet. Come on, please. What am I going to do? We both know that you’re stronger than I am.”

Malcolm stopped his pacing and looked at her with a feral gleam in his eye. “Do you think that I’m stupid, bitch? There’s no way I’m letting you go. Not until I’ve dealt with your little friend.”

Marie’s temper flared. She’d been trying to play nice and it was getting her nowhere. “Do I think that you’re stupid? Fuck yes. You're given an incredible gift and you waste it by hiding out in a bloody basement, holding prisoner the one person on the face of this earth that has a chance of helping you survive this. Stupid? Stupid doesn’t even come close. You’re a fuckwit, Malcolm. A pathetic excuse for a man and an even worse excuse for a wolf.”

Malcolm snarled and ran across the room. He towered over Marie and, for a moment, looked as if he were about to strike her. Instead, he reached down and grabbed her by the throat. “You know what your problem is? You’ve got no respect for me. Maybe it’s time I made you learn.”

Marie felt something brush against her leg, then realised in horror that it was Malcolm’s erect penis. She thrashed in his grip and tried to lash out, but Malcolm pinned her to the floor. “You touch me with that and I’ll tear it off. Get off me, you bastard. I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll…”

Malcolm relaxed his grip and stood up. For a moment, Marie thought that she’d gotten through to him. However, the look on his face told her otherwise.”

Malcolm sniffed the air and growled, then stepped away from her towards the stairs. Hair bristled from his pores, and his bones were already starting to shift and reform. He climbed the stairs and opened the door. “Don’t think you’re getting off, bitch. I’m gonna take care of our visitor, then I’m coming back to finish what we started.” He dropped onto all fours and let the transformation sweep through him. In less than thirty seconds, a huge grey werewolf stood at the top of the stairs. It snarled at her and then walked out into the corridor. The door slammed behind it.

“Visitor? What bloody visitor?” She sniffed the air and caught the scent as it wafted down the stairs.

“Old Spice? What the fuck?”