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Authors: Ramsey Campbell

Tags: #Druids and Druidism, #England, #Christian Ministry, #Science Fiction, #Horror, #Evangelistic Work, #General, #Fiction, #Religion, #Evangelism

Hungry Moon (27 page)

BOOK: Hungry Moon
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Andrew clasped his hands together so hard that his fingers ached. He could tell by the murmur that passed through the square that everyone wanted the prayer to be granted as much as he did. His father had already closed his eyes and was muttering fervently, almost growling. He glanced about warily as he realized everyone else was silent, and hushed himself. There was utter stillness as the crowd waited for Mr Mann to speak, and he was lifting his face to the sky when Miss Kramer ran into the square. 'Don't listen to him,' she cried.

FORTY FOUR

 

When the second lamp went out Nick ran to the window and pushed up the sash. A third lamp failed as he leaned out to see. He felt as if the dark were flooding down from the moor to find him, to teach him not to think he'd got away. He turned to Diana, almost hoping she would be as nervous as he was so that he could cope with his own feelings by trying to calm her. But she looked resigned, which was even more disturbing. 'The lamps are going out,' he said harshly - anything to make her speak.

'I know.'

Her unexpected gentleness made him feel more trapped than ever. 'What are we going to do?' he demanded.

'What do you want to do, Nick?'

'Something, damn it. Not just wait for it to come for us.' He wished he hadn't said that, especially since he wasn't sure what he meant: surely only the dark. He craned out of the window again, and realized he was staring at Diana's car. Couldn't they outrun the dark that way? He was about to propose it when the car vanished.

For a moment he thought he'd gone blind, and then he knew that the light had failed in the room behind him. The lit windows of the cottages across the road turned black, and people screamed. Diana was suddenly beside him, reaching for his hand. 'It's all right, Nick. This had to come. It's been too late to stop it for a while, I think.'

'Your car's still going, isn't it? Give me the keys if you don't want to drive,' he said urgently. 'If we get out we can bring people back. We can't save your kids all by ourselves.'

'I wish it were that simple.' She was holding his hand in both of hers as if that might reassure him. 'People have tried to drive out, but they've had to turn back. You had a taste of why up on the moor. And those who were supposed to come back haven't - I hate to think why not.'

He felt worse than helpless, he felt crushed by the dark. 'Christ, Diana, this is just rucking ridiculous,' he said, a curse seeming the nearest he could get to a prayer.

'Poor Nick. I'm sorry I made you feel you had to come here. Maybe when we see what's going to happen. . . ' Her voice trailed off. 'I want to know why it isn't darker.'

How could she want it to be darker? She leaned out of the window, and Nick saw what she meant - saw the street and the houses, so dimly that at first he thought he was hoping rather than seeing. People were opening their front doors as they realized that their neighbours' lights had failed too. Somewhere a man shouted impatiently, 'Try it now. They're new fuses. It must work.' Now the people from the cottages opposite Diana's were stepping forward on their paths to gaze along the street, and Nick craned past Diana to see.

A glow bright enough to outline the roofs sharply was rising from the town square. Doors were slamming, townsfolk heading for the square, almost the whole streetful as they saw the light. He thought of moths heading for a flame, and the paleness of the glow made him even more dubious. 'It's like the light I followed on the moor.'

Diana's hands tightened on his. 'Of course,
that's
what the dark is meant to do - make people desperate for light, any light. Come on, or stay here if you'd rather,' she said, peering apologetically at him. 'I have to try and stop this.'

'You know what the light is, then.'

'Yes, but I've no time to explain now.' When he wouldn't let go of her hand she leaned close to him. 'Really, Nick, you don't have to back me up.'

'Try and stop me.' He let go of her only while they felt their way along the hall and stepped out of the cottage.

All the streets were emptying, the townsfolk heading for the sound of a hymn. An old man stood on his doorstep and tried to light a candle to see by, cursing because matches wouldn't stay lit, although the air was still. Diana avoided the crowd and headed for the square along a street that was already deserted except for a workman who was fiddling with the timers in the street-lamps, his face so determined it looked like a mask. Nick found the sight incongruous and touching, but it made him feel vulnerable, nervous that the glow would go out as it had on the moor and plunge them all back into the dark.

But the glow was stronger when he and Diana came in view of the town square. The square was already full of people, most of whom were kneeling. The glow made their faces look carved out of ice, their eyes too, staring up at something he couldn't yet see from the side of the square he and Diana were approaching. 'You'd think the moon was up,' he muttered in a rage at the way the spectacle dismayed him. 'They used to say at this time of year the moon could drive you mad.' The closer he came to the light, the more he felt he might almost prefer the dark. At least the way the glow filled the eyes of the crowd, they were unlikely to notice Diana.

He and Diana hadn't reached the square when the hymn ended. Those who were still standing fell to their knees as the silence drained of echoes. Had the light intensified? Ranks of faces, bloodlessly white, stared up at it. Nick told himself fiercely that he'd wanted to do something - maybe now he had a chance. But when he edged round the corner of the hotel and saw the source of the light, he could only gape.

For one reassuring moment he thought that someone had managed to run power from a generator in the hotel to a spotlight in an upper window, and then he saw the figure in the window, a figure that looked thin as a filament from which the light was streaming. He saw the face thrust forward almost fleshlessly, as though the icy light were searing it to the bone. It seemed less like a human face than like the lingering idea of a face. 'Is that Mann?' he said incredulously.

'I don't think it is,' Diana whispered, 'not any longer.'

Nick wasn't sure that he wanted to know what she meant, and this was hardly the time to ask. She took a step forward as the figure in the window spread its shining hands. The stillness made the soft voice sound so close it might have been behind Nick. 'We must pray now for light,' the voice said.

'That's it,' Diana cried. 'God, of course.' She lurched into the square, in front of the crowd. 'Don't listen to him,' she shouted.

Every face turned instantly to her, the light going out of their eyes. Nick had stood in the midst of waves of hatred between police and pickets, but he'd never felt a flood of hostility as dangerous as this. He went forward quickly to stand beside Diana, not so much from the absurd notion of protecting her from the crowd as in the hope that someone else might join them.

For a few moments nobody moved, though there were mutters of hostility that Nick thought could rise to shouts and then to violence. Diana ignored them and gazed up at the figure in the window. She drew a breath Nick could feel in his own chest, and said loudly but evenly, 'Tell them what light you want them to call.'

The figure craned its head forward. Nick didn't remember the evangelist's neck as having been nearly so long. 'Miss Kramer the school-teacher, isn't it? I'm sorry if losing your job to someone more godly has made you bitter. All light is God's light, Miss Kramer.'

'Which god?' Diana challenged, and faltered as a chorus of hisses and groans rose from the crowd. 'You know what I mean,' she said defiantly, 'even if you've got these people so they can't tell the difference.'

Mann folded his arms across his chest, almost as though he was holding a burden there inside his voluminous jacket. 'If you feel you can enlighten us, Miss Kramer,' he said in the soft voice that seemed to glide like mist into Nick's senses, 'I'm sure we can take time to listen.'

Titters went through the crowd, and sounds of impatience. Diana glanced about at them and waited until they petered out, as she might have done in a classroom. 'I want to tell all of you one thing first,' she said. 'I'm as much a victim as you are.'

That earned her blank, hostile stares. 'We're trapped here,' she said, and glanced up at Mann. 'Something has us where it wants us.'

'Something called the devil,' a large red-haired woman shouted, 'that's as anxious to see the back of Godwin as you are, but neither of you will.'

'It isn't as simple as that, Mrs Scragg, and I can't believe that everyone here thinks so. Some of you must have noticed what's happening. You shopkeepers must have, you've had no deliveries for days. And we've lost most of our police and the mountain rescue team out there. We're being systematically cut off from the world and losing all the people who might have taken charge.'

'That's a cheap trick, even for you,' a man leaning on a stick said, his face darkening with anger. 'Trying to use our losses to win your argument. I haven't given up my son for lost yet, and if he is then it was in the course of doing his duty, just like the rest of the police.'

'We don't care if we are cut off from the world,' a young woman cried. 'The world is evil. If it's trying to isolate us then that's the devil's doing, to make us give up our faith. It doesn't realize we know we're better off. We can be self-sufficient; there's enough livestock and farmland if it comes to having to survive.'

Some of the crowd looked taken aback. Now's your chance, Nick thought fiercely at Diana, and wondered if he should speak up himself. Then a woman shouted, 'And we don't want our children taught by unbelievers. We don't want them going out of town and mixing with the faithless. Godwin brought us all the teachers we need.'

'Real teachers, not like you,' an old woman yelled at Diana, to the support of a chorus of jeering. I thought you were supposed to be Christians, Nick thought angrily, and would have said so except that the soft voice came seeping down. 'It looks as if all you have to offer is doubts and darkness, Miss Kramer.'

'I'll tell you one thing I have my doubts about.' Diana's voice rang out, clearer and calmer than ever. 'Perhaps it's all that stands between me and believing in you. I'd like to hear what happened when you went down the cave - what you found there and what you did.'

Quite a few faces turned toward Mann's window. Perhaps they were curious rather than doubtful, but wasn't that preferable to blind faith? The figure in the window drew itself up. Surely it was a trick of perspective that made the evangelist look taller than he had been at the rally, but it made Nick feel as if Mann was preparing to show them something in response to Diana. He could almost believe that as the light appeared to swell, the figure had begun to swell too.

Then Mrs Scragg intervened. 'Anyone with an ounce of godliness in them can see what happened plain enough,' she cried. 'Our man up there's a saint if ever I saw one. Now that's enough. We're here to pray, not listen to your godless prating,
Miss
Kramer. If you don't shut your lying mouth there's plenty of us here to shut it for you.'

Nick stepped closer to Diana. 'Perhaps there are folk who'd like to hear her out. You'd be well advised to listen.'

'Her bodyguard,' Mrs Scragg sneered, as a policeman with a long, prim face and a thin moustache pushed through the crowd to Nick. 'Who are you, may I ask,' he demanded, 'and where have you come from?'

'I'm a newspaper reporter, a friend of Diana's. I'm here because -'

As soon as he mentioned Diana, there was uproar. 'Another outsider come to try and shake our faith,' cried the young woman who didn't need the world, and someone yelled across the square, 'Or tell lies about us to outsiders so they'll try and corrupt us.'

'I must ask you to leave,' the policeman said to Nick. 'You're likely to cause a breach of the peace.' He must have seen how uncooperative Nick felt, for he raised his voice. 'Otherwise I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the police station.'

'I'll help you.' A beefy man who smelled of raw meat swung Nick round before he knew what was happening and wrenched his arms up behind him, almost dislocating them. 'Move,' he growled. 'Any trouble and I'll break your arms easy as wringing a chicken's neck.'

FORTY FIVE

 

Diana watched the butcher drag Nick away, the police inspector striding alongside, and wondered desperately what she ought to do. She wanted to go with Nick to make sure he wasn't harmed, but she couldn't shake off the impression that she was being lured away from the square. The face in the shining window turned toward her, and for a nightmarish moment she saw the moon where the head should be, a smiling moon with pits for eyes. Was Mann's face a mass of blotches behind the light? All she could be certain of amid the pale glare was his smile, a victorious smile that might look like a benediction to the waiting crowd. She ran after the three men and dodged round the inspector, into Nick's path.

Nick was being forced forward, head down, arms twisted up to his shoulder blades. When he saw Diana, he tried to look as if the butcher weren't hurting him. 'Sorry I wasn't much help,' he muttered, peering at her from under his brows. 'I didn't realize things had gone this far.'

The butcher jerked Nick's arms. 'No talking.'

'I don't think that's necessary,' the inspector intervened. 'Just ensure he doesn't try to give you the slip.'

The butcher eased his hold on Nick, slightly and reluctantly. They had to trust the policeman, Diana told herself - had to believe there was some decency left in him. 'Go with them, Nick. Don't make any trouble. I'll know where to find you.'

'What about you, Diana?' he said, wincing as he tried to raise his head. 'Where will you be?'

‘I just want to watch what happens. I won't put myself in any danger,' she lied. The butcher shoved him toward the police station, and Diana turned back to the square.

Those who'd stood up during the altercation were on their knees again. The square was full of rapt white upturned masks and black shadows, motionless as ice. If she tried to interrupt again they would only silence her; sooner or later Mann would have his prayer. She could only watch and hope that the awareness that was hovering at the edge of her mind might prove to be of some use. But she hadn't stepped into the square when Mrs Scragg heaved herself to her feet and bore down on Diana. 'No you don't, miss. I knew you'd come sneaking back to try and spoil things.'

'I've said all I had to say.'

'And a load of rubbish it was. I think we'll just make sure you aren't heard from while we're praying. Are there two strong men who'll help me put this perverter of our children where she can't do any harm?'

Two men stood up next to their sons, Ronnie who'd always had too much in his pockets, Thomas who'd been full of feeble jokes that only Mann's brood could object to. Both boys were staring at Diana with loathing. They'd been made to feel that way, she told herself, glancing about for others of her pupils, but the children she could see didn't want to see her. She felt suddenly beaten and hopeless, at the mercy of the pale shape perched above the square, and then the fathers grabbed her, bruising her arms. 'You don't need to do this,' she said as calmly as she could. 'This is England, right? You don't do this to people just because they disagree with you.'

'Not to our own,' Ronnie's father said, leaning so close to her that she could smell sour milk on his breath, and the other muttered, 'You want to stop people praying, stop our lads praying. We aren't having that, so shut your gob.'

'My God,' Diana cried in a voice that sounded far too small, 'can't you see anything wrong with what's happening here?'

Mrs Scragg struck her across the face. 'Don't you be soiling the name of the Almighty. That's the kind of blasphemy she was teaching your children. Bring her to my house now and I'll keep an eye on her. I've dealt with her kind before.'

The men shoved Diana out of the square, so violently that she would have fallen except for their grip on her. She had to run in order to regain her balance, her toes scraping on the tarmac; there was no use struggling. She twisted her head round to look back at the hotel. Again the face in the window looked blotchy as the moon, but it was smiling, a smile that seemed almost as wide as the head. Presumably only she could see that, for a murmur of relief went through the congregation as the soft voice said, 'Now there are no unbelievers here, let's make an act of faith that the dark will become light.'

Mrs Scragg glanced back, then glared at Diana. The woman must resent not being involved in the prayers. The crowd was chanting, blotting out the voice that must be leading them. 'God of our ancestors, lighten our darkness,' they prayed three times. 'We offer ourselves to you.'

Diana tried to struggle free then - anything to stop what she sensed approaching - but the men dragged her out of the High Street into a lane that faced the school. It was much darker here, out of sight of the hotel. Her captors tightened their hold on her, and Diana thought they weren't just making sure she didn't slip away but taking out on her their unacknowledged dread of the dark. Then Ronnie's father looked up beyond the looming blocks of darkness that were cottages. 'God be praised, do you see that?' he whispered.

Diana raised her head, and her heart faltered. She could see the roofs and chimneys, outlined whitely. It wasn't just the glow from the hotel; the dark was drawing back like a fraying veil, revealing a night sky stuffed with dark clouds. A white blur crawled behind the clouds, creeping toward a gap of clear sky. She knew it was the moon, but deep down she was afraid to see Mann's face peer gigantically between the clouds, grinning triumphantly at her. There was no need to invent nightmares like that, she realized, trying vainly to relax so that her captors might slacken their grasp. The moon would be just as terrible.

'Show us your light, O God of our fathers and our forefathers,' the crowd was chanting, excited now. Mrs Scragg stared at the sky, where veins of white light were stretching out from the gap, outlining the clouds. Diana poised herself to jerk free and run - she would have only one chance - and then Mrs Scragg turned on her. 'Let's get this one locked away safe and then we'll have time to give thanks.'

BOOK: Hungry Moon
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