Terminal (32 page)

‘Looky here,' he said. Glass-fronted cabinets stretched the length of the wall. For the moment, Will forgot where he was, unable to resist a closer examination of the archaeological artefacts they housed. Fragments of glazed pots, tools and jewellery were all on display. ‘Roman,' he said, peering at the first cabinet, before heading to the second. ‘Greek, I think … yeah … and these vases might be Etruscan. Amazing,' he muttered over and over.

‘Yes, amazing,' Elliott said, although with little enthusiasm. It was clear that someone passionate about history had lived here, but this was hardly the time to dwell on it.

Particularly so because while Will walked from cabinet to cabinet, eagerly taking in the different items, Elliott had found something disquieting. She hadn't noticed before but several articles of furniture had been knocked over further inside the room, and her finely honed sense of danger went into overdrive when she spotted a dark trail on the polished wooden flooring. Examining it more closely she found that the trail was streaks of dirt and possibly blood, which traced a route from the front door to the staircase.

‘I'm going up to check upstairs,' she informed Will, pointing to the floor above.

‘Be with you in a minute,' he said.

She climbed the stairs, on the way up finding a discarded shoe and a set of false teeth. At the top of the stairs there was a wide landing that led to an equally wide corridor. Moonlight flooded in through large picture windows at each end, allowing her to see where the dark trail went.

She stuck her head into each room as she moved down the corridor, finding they were empty and the beds all made. But
then, halfway along the corridor, the dark trail continued up a small flight of carved wooden stairs to the next floor, which she assumed to be the attic. Pointing her rifle ahead of her, she began up the stairs.

However, as she reached the top, her foot caught against something and she toppled forwards. As she tried to stop herself falling, her finger twitched against the trigger, and her rifle fired.

The shot resounded deafeningly around the large room.

‘Shit!' she exclaimed, quickly picking herself up.

It was cold. The skylights in the steeply slanted roof either side of her were mainly broken, so the attic was exposed to the elements.

Which explained why she hadn't smelt the many dead bodies in various states of mutilation.

She'd been brought down by one of the cadavers stretched out at the top of the stairs, but they were everywhere.

Some were half eaten, and some very much full of life as Styx grubs burrowed away inside them.

‘Sh—' she said again, swallowing the word as she realised what she'd blundered into.

This was obviously where the Armagi had brought the occupants of the houses for breeding. Some of these poor unfortunates had been impregnated, while others were there for food. And many of the victims had been elderly – she could see that from the wispy grey hair and aged features. That explained why the old people's home had been empty.

A terrible wailing sound came from just feet away. She wheeled towards the area of roof closest to her.

One of the younger Armagi – a lizard-type creature some four feet from nose to tail – was clinging to it. Its head
swivelled towards her.

The head of a human child.

Its nostrils flared as its forked tongue flicked towards her.

It wailed again, then another lizard took up the cry, then another. The sound of her rifle had frightened them. She could see it in their shining eyes.

They were everywhere, probably as many as twenty of them, but there was no way she was about to stop and count. And they were all clinging to the roof timbers, watching her through their slit pupils, their mouths wet with blood.

In addition to the lizards, she glimpsed large objects tucked into the corners of the roof space They resembled the cocoons of moths or butterflies, but on a giant scale.

She heard Will calling her name, but she held absolutely still.

The lizard nearest to her was sniffing her, but it had stopped wailing. However, some of the others continued in a random pattern, much like chickens when they've been disturbed. And these young Armagi were still very clearly alarmed by her appearance.

The closest lizard sniffed her once more. Elliott braced herself, wondering if it was about to use its rows of needle teeth on her.

Then the most remarkable thing happened. It appeared to simply lose interest, scurrying up to the apex of the roof with a
tac-tac
noise as its clawed feet dug into the surface.

Elliott remained stock still, not even allowing herself to breathe.

Will's panicked voice came again from the floor below. Elliott heard a door slam – this seemed to agitate the lizards all over again, making them scuttle in every direction. Then
another door slammed on the floor below. Will was looking for her. Of course he was – he'd heard the rifle shot.

And at any moment he'd come up the stairs and into the attic.

Elliott had to do something.

She took a step backwards, then another, lifting her foot over the gored cadaver. Then she was on the wooden staircase. She spun around and threw herself down it, only to cannon straight into Will at the bottom.

‘For God's sake!' he cried. ‘Where have you … what happened?'

‘Just shut up,' she said, pushing him backwards. She kept going until he was up against the corridor wall, where his shoulder knocked a painting to the ground.

As it hit the wooden floor with a crash, Elliott pressed herself hard up against him, so that he was sandwiched between her body and the wall.

‘This isn't really the time or the pl—' he said, with a nervous chuckle.

‘Idiot,' she snapped, hearing the commotion from the floor above. She was petrified that they might swarm down the wooden stairs. But more than this, she knew – with almost complete certainty – that the calls of the frightened lizards were summoning the adult Armagi. She knew this because the wails of the lizards had been piercing to her, something she found impossible to ignore, as if those young creatures had been her own children, her own babies, crying out for help.

‘I think I can save you,' she said to Will. She was crying now, her breaths short.

‘You can
what
?' he demanded.

‘The Armagi are coming. They'll get you,' she shot back.

‘Me? Well, let's get out of here,' he shouted.

‘
You
won't be able to run from them,' she gasped.

‘What about you? Why not you, too?' he asked.

‘I don't know. I'll be okay.' She felt around Will's waist. ‘Where's your knife? Give it to me! Quick!'

Will reached to the scabbard on his belt and pulled it out.

Elliott snatched it from him, then whipped her mitten off. She held the knife over her palm, then pushed it down hard, cutting her hand open.

‘What – why?' Will gasped, seeing how deep the incision was. She reached for his face, wiping her blood over him, smearing it down his cheeks.

‘What the hell …?' he shouted.

‘Keep quiet,' she whispered urgently. ‘I can hear them.'

And he could too. Unless it was the wind, he was sure that there was a humming sound. Something
was
coming.

She continued to pump her hand to produce more blood, spreading it all over him, over his arms and down his thighs.

‘If I can just fool them into thinking …' she was saying as they heard a loud thump from above. Something had landed on the roof.

‘Is that one?' he asked. Without knowing what he was doing, he began to pull away from Elliott, trying to extricate himself from between her and the wall.

‘No, for God's sake, just keep still,' she said, gritting her teeth as she raked the tip of the knife across her palm again. Even more blood was flowing from it as she ran her hand all round his head, streaking his white hair with it.

‘Keep absolutely still,' she hissed at him again.

There were two crashes, the floor under their feet vibrating with each impact.

A pair of Armagi had flown in through the windows at either end of the corridor.

Will and Elliott hardly dared draw breath, let alone move.

They could hear and feel each impact of the Armagi's clawed, griffin-like feet as the fearsome creatures advanced down the corridor from both directions. And through his lens Will was able to make out more of their appearances as they came closer, their transparent feathers gleaming in the moonlight, the muscles in their limbs slipping over each other like slabs of polished ice.

One headed straight for the wooden staircase, the other closing in on Will and Elliott. She had her back to what was going on in the corridor and couldn't see.

But Will could.

The floorboards creaked under the Armagi's weight as it came towards them, and stopped right behind Elliott. The height of a tall man, it had compound eyes like an insect, and they now rested on Will and Elliott.

Its head was translucent, the wall of the corridor visible through it, but fluids pumped around inside its cranium, and something pulsed like a tiny black heart at the very top of its exoskeleton.

Will could see the Armagi so clearly through his lens. It had a beak like a bird's. But as it took another step closer to Elliott, Will could see that it wasn't a solid beak because it had opened up into four insect-like mandibles.

Elliott's body stiffened against Will's as the Armagi inclined its head and scraped the upper pair of mandibles along the top of her shoulder. All the time, it was drawing in air, sniffing.

Then it was still for a moment, as if it had picked up a scent.

Will couldn't breathe – he didn't dare.

The Armagi swivelled away from him and Elliott, making a quarter turn. It had a small pair of transparent sticks at the nape of its neck – they were the diameter of knitting needles. Will watched as they began to beat together, faster and faster until they were moving so quickly they became a blur. They were vibrating together, but he couldn't hear anything. He wondered if Elliott could. Then he realised that they weren't that dissimilar from the insect legs that sprouted from the same spot on the Styx women's spines.

But Will couldn't think about that now. For a moment he dared to let himself believe that he and Elliott were going to escape with their lives. Or, if Elliott thought that there was no danger to her, then
he
might be about to escape.

But then the Armagi swivelled back round towards them, its head jerking in the twitchy movement reminiscent of reptiles.

It sniffed at Elliott again. Then, for the longest time, it seemed to be just poised there, observing her and Will.

Will couldn't tell if Elliott's plan was working and the creature was confused, or if it was about to lurch at them and claw them both apart. It was rather like trying to divine the emotions of a heavy statue that was about to tip over and crush you.

Will could feel Elliott's heart pounding against his, and her blood dripping down his face. His eye with the lens was protected, but the other one wasn't, and some of her blood had run straight into it. It made him desperate to blink, but he couldn't.

Then, with another loud creak, the Armagi shot over to the wooden stairs, and disappeared up them.

Only now did Will dare to release his breath. ‘They've gone,' he whispered barely audibly, blinking his eye a few times.

Elliott didn't respond for a moment, then she replied equally as quietly, ‘We have to get out. Now.'

She moved back from him, and together they tiptoed along the corridor, then down the stairs and out through the front door. Once in the open, they clambered over the low wall at the front of the house, and kept going through several more drives until they'd reached one with thick undergrowth, where they could hide and catch their breath.

Will saw Elliott trying to move her hand and wincing at the pain. From a pocket of his coat he took out one of David's handkerchiefs that he'd helped himself to, and gently bound her palm. Then he just held her in his arms.

Eventually, as he began to relax, Will said, ‘Well, that was quite something.' He blew out through his lips at the sheer understatement, his relief so great that he wanted to laugh. But he didn't. ‘At least we know what an Armagi looks like now.'

Elliott mumbled something, but Will didn't catch it. ‘And I don't know quite
how
you knew to do that back there – that trick with your blood,' he added.

She remained silent.

‘But thank you,' he said.

As Drake lay on the ground, with his eyes closed, Jiggs was scanning the distant motorway through his binoculars. ‘There are a couple of lorries on the hard shoulder … then we've got an army transporter, and some cars in a small pile-up … but sod all is moving.'

As the horses grazed, one of them snorted loudly. Drake copied it, then said, ‘So if we swapped the horses for a car, we could be there in under an hour. If only those pesky Armagi didn't have a thing for engines.'