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Authors: Justin Richards

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BOOK: Creeping Terror
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M
ARIA LOOKED ALL ROUND. SHE DIDN’T WANT to check her phone. What if she was the only one who couldn’t see the woman now? What if even Knight had more ‘sight’ than she did – what use would she be then?

Gemma was close beside her. Maria liked Gemma – the girl reminded her so much of herself when she was that age and had first worked for Knight. But at the same time her presence was a constant reminder that Maria was getting older, that her powers were fading … that she was being replaced.

‘She’s gone,’ Gemma said quietly.

‘Yes,’ Maria said. ‘I can see that.’

‘I’m assuming she was a ghost,’ Knight said.

‘What did she mean, I wonder?’ Growl mused, tapping his chin with a thoughtful finger. ‘
Beware the green
– the pub, perhaps? The Green Man?’

‘The village green,’ Knight suggested. ‘Though I don’t see one.’

‘It’s quiet again,’ Gemma said. ‘The woman’s gone and all the ghosts have left.’

‘Even the birds have stopped,’ Maria realised.

Knight had his phone out again. ‘No signal. Typical.’

‘We received young Tommy’s information,’ Growl said.

‘It would have been sent when the phone got a signal again,’ Knight told him. ‘No one lives here. The army has its own communications. I’m not surprised the mobiles can’t connect.’

‘Makes it difficult to find out how Webby and the others are doing with their research,’ Maria said.

‘Let’s try the church,’ Knight decided. ‘Then I’ll go and get the car. I’m sure we had a signal outside the village. I’ll drive back and call from the checkpoint on the road if necessary.’

‘You don’t think the car will put off our spooky friends?’ Growl asked.

‘They’re not doing much for us now,’ Maria told him.

‘Tommy’s dad was driving a modern car,’ Gemma said. ‘And they saw more than we have.’

‘There must be a way to trigger it,’ Maria said thoughtfully.

‘It was worth a try, fitting in as best we could
with 1943, but there’s equipment in the car … things we’ll need. And I’d like to be able to leave in a hurry if we need to,’ Knight said. ‘Still, we’ll look at the church first.’

*

Maria kept her eyes focused on the church doors. All through the graveyard she looked neither left nor right. She knew what she would see. Sometimes she wished her powers would fade more quickly. But then she realised that would simply mean she couldn’t see what was really happening all round her. She knew how Knight must feel – knowing he couldn’t see whether demons were creeping up on him, possibly about to attack.

The church was in a similar state to the pub. A rat scurried away when Knight pushed open what was left of the door. The wooden pews were rotting and the floor was scattered with plaster and stone. A grinning gargoyle from the roof lay on its broken back and stared up at Maria as she followed Growl along the nave.

‘It’s like the pub,’ Gemma said.

‘There are echoes and ghosts from the past,’ Maria agreed. ‘But nothing that’s unusual for a church.’

‘If there are any records, they will likely be in the vestry,’ Growl said.

On the wall above a huge archway there was a painting. It was faded, the paint peeling away and the plaster turning to powder. All Maria could see was a confused mess of figures apparently lying in heaps. A river snaked between them. Flaking angels looked down from above. A devil with a pitchfork had lost half its face and one of its horns.

‘What is it?’ Gemma asked, following Maria’s gaze.

‘A doom painting,’ Growl said, looking up. ‘Probably very fine in its day. It shows the Last Judgement. Demons and angels separating the wheat from the chaff, the Christians from the sinners.’

Maria found it more unsettling than the ghosts she had seen in the pub. She quickly followed Growl and Knight.

The roof of the vestry was still in place and it seemed like a room in a different building. Everything was layered in dust and cobwebs hung from the window and walls, but the structure seemed intact.

A plain, dark wooden desk stood against a wall with an upright chair beside it. The whitewash on the wall above was peeling away in large sheets like paper. Flakes of white were scattered across the desktop and the floor. The tattered remains of a curtain hung from a tarnished rail across an
alcove. Behind it, several cassocks and surplices were rotting.

‘The choir has long since stopped singing,’ Growl said quietly as he examined them.

There was a safe in the corner of the room. The door was ajar and Maria pulled it open. She stood back to let them all see that it was empty.

Gemma was checking the drawers of the desk. The first was empty. The next contained a pile of leather-bound books.

‘Parish registers,’ Growl exclaimed as Gemma lifted the books out and put them on the desk. He rubbed his hands together. ‘Old and fragile, but mercifully not too damp. Now we’re getting somewhere. Anything else, my girl?’

In the last drawer was another book. It was less impressive than the registers – little more than a notebook with a stiff cardboard cover. Gemma opened it.

‘Parishioners of Templeton – February 1943,’ she read out loud.

She turned the page. There was a simple list of names down one side, written in bold capital letters. Against each was a neat address, followed by a signature. Some of the names had been signed simply with an ‘X’.

‘All the villagers who were evacuated,’ Knight said as he looked over Gemma’s shoulder.

‘Why the X?’ Maria asked. ‘Did they die or something?’

‘Either they couldn’t write or they were too young to sign for themselves, I imagine,’ Growl told her.

‘The names don’t seem to be in any order,’ Maria noticed. ‘They’re not alphabetical. Just in families.’

‘Most important first, perhaps?’ Knight suggested.

‘Maybe they just signed when they turned up to church,’ Gemma said. ‘The vicar signed first. Look. Reverend Josiah Oaken.’

‘Rector, more likely,’ Growl said. ‘Anne Oaken must be his wife. Then his son probably – James Oaken.’ He leafed through the book, reading off some of the names. ‘Jack Willow, Matthew Pine, Emily Heather …’ Growl clicked his tongue thoughtfully. ‘That’s interesting.’

‘What?’ Knight asked.

‘So many of these names are trees or plants. Anthony Beech, Belinda Appleseed, Marcus Wood … Coincidence or history, I wonder?’

‘Derived from a few common roots, maybe? If you’ll forgive the pun,’ Knight said.

‘Could be, could be.’ Growl dusted off the chair beside the desk and sat down. ‘Now this will
be invaluable if I am to build up a picture of life in the village before it was evacuated. We know who was here. The registers can give us dates of birth, or at least christening, as well as any recent deaths, marriages and so on. I might even be able to identify the people Tommy and his father saw. Gemma, you can help by reading out the names in the registers, then I’ll cross-reference them with this list of the parishioners in 1943.’

‘We’ll fetch the car,’ Knight said to Maria. ‘At least then we can start getting a bit more scientific.’

‘What did you bring?’ Maria asked as they left the vestry.

Knight’s answer echoed in the empty church: ‘The usual stuff. Digital video and sound recorders, thermometers, motion detectors …’

She didn’t fancy the walk back to the car. But it had to be better than looking through dusty old books with Growl, Maria thought. Gemma was going to be so bored.

*

The high hedges along the side of the narrow road made it difficult to judge how far they had come. But they had long since passed the painted-out village sign.

‘Can’t be far now to the car,’ Knight said. ‘If we
get to the checkpoint we know we’ve gone too far.’

Maria didn’t reply. She was bored and it was starting to rain. She wondered whether Gemma would be able to see the ghosts still leaving the village, walking with them along the road. Would she herself have seen them a year ago? A month ago? Had she lost the ability in the hour since they arrived?

She was tempted to get out her phone and see if the ghosts were there. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Knight knowing how weak she’d become. She couldn’t bear her own inadequacy.

The road curved, rising gently. Round the hedge, Maria at last saw the checkpoint – the wooden barrier lowered across the road.

‘Strange. We must have passed the turn-off where we left the car,’ Knight said.

‘I didn’t see it,’ Maria said.

There were two soldiers standing at the end of the barrier. They turned as they saw Knight and Maria approaching. One of them slipped his rifle off his shoulder and took aim.

Maria skidded to a halt. She recognised them – both the soldiers had been there when they arrived. She could see Knight’s car pulled in off the road beyond the barrier.

‘Careful,’ Knight said quietly, his hand on Maria’s shoulder. ‘I don’t like this.’

‘Who are you?’ the soldier shouted. ‘State your business and show us authorisation or I’ll fire.’

‘You can’t just shoot people,’ Maria yelled back.

‘It’s all right,’ Knight called. He walked slowly towards the barrier. ‘You remember us. We came through earlier. I have authorisation from Colonel Greene.’

‘Never heard of him,’ the other soldier said. He had his rifle levelled at them now. ‘And we ain’t never seen you two before neither.’

Knight stopped. ‘What’s the date?’ he asked.

‘You what?’

The two soldiers glanced at each other.

‘It’s a simple enough question,’ Knight said, backing away slowly.

Maria had a bad feeling about all this. She flipped open her phone, but it showed nothing unusual. And it still wasn’t getting a signal.

‘Stop right there,’ the closer of the two soldiers said. ‘You put your hands up and walk slowly towards us, right?’

‘Oh, don’t be stupid,’ Maria said. ‘You know who we are.’

‘You could be anyone,’ the other soldier said.
‘You’re in a restricted area without permission. Spies, that’s what you are.’

‘And we shoot spies,’ the first solider added.

‘You can’t shoot us,’ Maria said again. She was backing away now too.

The soldier gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t you know there’s a war on?’

‘All right, all right,’ Knight said quickly. ‘We’ll cooperate.’ He turned slowly towards Maria, his hands in the air. ‘Won’t we, Maria.’ Facing away from the soldiers, he mouthed, ‘Run!’

Maria smiled. ‘Of course we will.’

Then she turned and ran. She was aware of Knight close behind her. There was a crack like a branch breaking. Then another. But it was only when a bullet thumped into the road just in front of her that Maria realised the soldiers were firing at them.

‘They think it’s 1943,’ Knight gasped as he caught her up.

‘They’re not ghosts. And those bullets are real.’

‘Just like Corporal Rutherford. We can’t get out of the village that way.’

They slowed to a brisk walk.

‘Are they following?’ Maria asked.

‘Manning the checkpoint. They know we can’t get out.’

‘Because there are checkpoints on all the roads?’

Knight nodded. ‘Sooner or later we’ll meet soldiers. I wonder how far the effect extends. Too far, I suspect. We’ll have to try cross-country.’

‘Got to find a way through the hedge first,’ Maria pointed out. ‘There must be a field or something on the other side.’ She chose a point where the hedge looked less dense and tried to force the branches apart. ‘I can’t see through,’ she said after a while. ‘It seems to go on forever.’

There seemed to be a gate further along, close to the village sign, so they made their way towards it.

When they got there, they found the gate didn’t open into a field or on to a track. Instead, immediately behind it there was a mass of shrubs and greenery, as if the hedge had grown along behind it.

‘I thought it was open country through there,’ Maria said.

‘So did I.’ Knight checked his phone again. ‘Still no signal. And now no way out. You know, I don’t think we’re supposed to leave this village.’

‘Why can’t we get out? Are we trapped?’ Maria felt a wave of panic sweep over her. She still hadn’t caught her breath after running from the soldiers and now she was hemmed in by hedges. Even the sky seemed darker and lower.

‘We have to find out what’s going on – what’s causing all this to happen, and to happen now.’

‘Then we can stop it and leave,’ Maria added.

‘But we’re going to need the information Ben and Rupam get from Webby and Mrs Bailey.’

Maria sighed. ‘No way. We haven’t got a signal and we can’t find a way out. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me that the phone box in the village is still connected.’ She felt for a moment as if she wanted just to sit down in the middle of the road and cry. ‘We could be stuck here for
days
before anyone realises there’s a problem and comes looking for us.’

‘It’s worse than that.’ Knight’s face fell into shadow as he stared across at the church tower rising above the hedges in the distance. It was no longer a broken ruin. Now it was complete again. ‘Look. To some extent the whole village has slipped back to 1943, just after it was evacuated. First Tommy and his dad saw the village before the people left. We saw them leaving. And now this …’

Maria felt herself go cold as she began to take in the implications. ‘Just what are you saying?’

Knight turned back to Maria. ‘I’m saying that it could be nearly seventy years before anyone realises there’s a problem and comes looking for us.’

***

The sound of the doorbell reached Ben and Rupam in the large library of Gibbet Manor.

They were working their way through a heap of reference books and a pile of papers and documents that Mrs Bailey had provided – with no explanation of where they had come from. There were electoral lists, copies of the letter sent to every resident of Templeton and the posters that had been put up, even minutes of a Cabinet meeting at which the evacuation had been agreed …

‘Wonder who that is at the door?’ Ben said.

He was making notes on a large pad of lined paper, though he wasn’t sure how useful they would be to Growl or anyone else.

BOOK: Creeping Terror
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