The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (84 page)

“
Where there
’
s a will,
”
Douglas replied, then glanced past her,
“
I think your lunch has arrived Jennifer. Nice talking to you.
”

“
Who was that?
”
Dillon asked as she slid back into her seat.

“
Just a customer I was talking to before.
”
she replied taking a glance back at the Englishman, who had returned to reading his paper. She
’
d never seen him in her life, yet there was something vaguely familiar about him, and him knowing her name, looking back she would swear he hadn
’
t looked at her badge. But maybe that was just a bit of paranoia kicking in. Mentally setting it aside she refocused her attention on Dillon and lunch.

The rest of the day passed quietly enough, Jennifer spent most of it on the tills, dealing with the handful of customers that came in. The place had definitely been getting quieter for the last year. Time, she thought to herself as she started for home, to look for a new job, before head office decided to close down an under performing store. Her canine friend didn
’
t appear for the first time in a week and somehow, that left her feeling a little lonely.

She
’
d just got home and pushed the key into the outer lock of the apartment block when a familiar voice said from behind her,
“
Hello Jennifer.
”

She spun, looking for the speaker, for a moment she could see no one then there was the kind of polite cough someone uses when trying to get your attention. There he was, standing in a shadow, twenty feet away, leaned against the wall.

“
Who is that?
”
she demanded, while she reached backwards and slowly turned the key in the lock. The figure pushed himself away from the wall and took a step into the light of the nearest lamppost and stopped. It was Douglas.

“
What the hell are you doing here?
”

“
Looking to talk to you, Jen,
”
he replied calmly.

“
You followed me!
”

“
Tonight? Na, I
’
ve known where you live for weeks, or at least my employers have. I
’
m here to offer you a job.
”

“
Get away from me! If I see you again I
’
m calling the Cops!
”
she shouted at him as she yanked the door open and darted through. Douglas didn
’
t move a muscle apart from his expression quirking into a slight smile.

Outside Douglas rolled his eyes.
“
Well what surprise, the direct approach didn’t work.
”
He said to himself as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. The target was what he expected: a bloody waste of time. Still no point leaving the job half done, with that thought he turned and disappeared into an alley.

In the common area Jennifer didn
’
t wait for the lift, instead she darted up the two flights stairs, it was only once she was at the door of her own apartment did she pause to draw breath.
Damn it, Damn it, Damn it!
The first seemingly nice guy in ages and he turns out to be some kind of creepy stalker, why the hell was it she seemed to attract them? From down the corridor there came a crash of crockery, then raised voices, the couple in Number Six were at it again and this time it sounded like a bad one. Come the morning at least one of them would be sporting bruises. Again. At some point in the day someone had pulled one of the peeling pieces of wallpaper off completely. The door of Number Five opened briefly, just long enough for a bin bag to be dumped outside before the door closed again.

“
What the hell am I doing here?
”
Jennifer asked herself, if it was time to change job, it was definitely time to move home. Closing the apartment door behind her, she turned on the light
…
and let out a yelp. Douglas was standing by the dresser looking at her photographs.

“
To be honest Jen, what are any of us doing here?
”
he said cheerfully as he turned to face her.

“
H
…
how did you get in here?
”
she stuttered.

“
In through the bathroom window. That waste of skin you call a landlord still hasn’t fixed it you know. By the way you might want to buy a new toothbrush - I think I might have trod on yours on the way in. Sorry about that.
”
he replied.
“
Anyway, as I said before, I’m here to offer you a job.
”

She snatched up the telephone from floor where it usually lived.

“
Get out or I’ll call the police!
”
she threatened.

Douglas
’
s smile got wider.

“
How are you planning to do that Jennifer?
”
he asked.
“
Your phone was cut off a month ago, when you didn’t
…
well I should say couldn
’
t, pay the bill.
”

The handset dropped out of Jennifer
’
s suddenly nerveless fingers and crashed to the floor.

“
As it advises in that great literary classic, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, DON’T PANIC! I’m not here to menace, molest or otherwise harm you. I am here - figuratively speaking of course - to headhunt you.
”

Jennifer didn
’
t answer, a quick glance had been enough to tell her the baseball bat - the only thing
he
had left behind when he robbed her, was still behind the door. She grabbed it, stepped forward, and swung it as hard as she could.

He was so fast she didn
’
t even see him move. One moment his hands were in his pockets, the next his hand was out to intercept the bat. There was a crack of wood on flesh, he didn
’
t flinch. He didn
’
t even blink. She tried to yank it out of his grip, his hand tightened and there was a faint sound of crunching wood as he stared into her eyes.

“
I represent an organisation that deals with the monitoring, control and policing of all aspects of what could loosely described as the paranormal.
”
he continued after a moment, as if she had done nothing at all.
“
My superiors believe you have skills that would enhance, and dare I say it, enrich our organisation and are prepared to offer you a position. The position comes with a pay and benefits package, substantially better than the one you are receiving in that supermarket.
”

“
Who are you?
”

Douglas studied her for a moment. Then, still holding the bat stepped to his left, with both of them still holding the bat they pirouetted around one another.
“
I believe you
’
re on the early shift again tomorrow. Meet me tomorrow evening and I
’
ll go through the job offer in more detail,
”
he said.
“
As for who am I? If I
’
ve learned anything Jen, it is that there is no single answer to that question for any of us. To some of my colleagues, I
’
m the one who want backing you up when it all goes runny. To others, I
’
m a loose cannon. To my youngest nephew, I
’
m the fun uncle. But you, here and now, I
’
m merely a devilishly handsome nut-job that has somehow managed to get into your apartment.
”
With his free hand he reached backwards to the door that was now behind him and opened it. He then took a card from his coat and slipped it into her blouse pocket.
“
So let me show you something that will give you a better idea of who I am, and keep the old grey matter buzzing.
”

Even as he finished speaking he started to change. His mouth bulged forwards into a muzzle, fingers shrank as the nails darkened and twisted into claws, and thick dark fur forced its way out of every pore in his skin. He dropped down onto all fours and shook himself out of his clothes. The bat clattered to the floor as she abandoned it and he not longer had fingers to hold it with.

“
Oh my God.
”
Jennifer whispered, as she backed away.

It was the dog that had been following her all week, except now she realised that this was no dog. The wolf that Douglas had become looked up at her at her shocked face, with blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence, and let out a sound very much like a snigger, before trotting out the door and down the corridor. Jennifer kicked the clothes out, slammed the door closed and spent the rest of the evening, staring at the door.

Edmond Barrett is a techno-phobic science fiction writer who is quietly proud to be British, while happy to acknowledge his entire ancestry is Irish. He copes with the contradictions in his life by not thinking about them too much.
The Landfall Campaign
is his third published work, he is currently working on the final book of the
Nameless War Trilogy
. A resident of Dublin, Ireland, he is life long fan of science fiction and fantasy as well as being a amateur student of military history.

You can find Edmond Barrett on line at:

http://edmondbarrett.wordpress.com/

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100003044323873

XXX