The Darkest Corners (15 page)

And then it stopped howling. I tossed the empty skin away, grabbed the baton and leapt back to my feet in time to see an entire army of monsters slowly closing in around me.

I turned on the spot, baton ready. How many of them were there? Dozens? Hundreds? I couldn't tell. They swarmed from every direction, filling the whole street. They looked like exhibits in some weird alien zoo, a few of them vaguely human-looking, but most of them too bizarre for words.

Eyes trained on me. Tongues flicked hungrily across bloated lips. Knuckles cracked and muscles twitched and on they came, closer and closer, nearer and nearer.

‘Stop.'

I recognised the voice. That was him. My dad. My head snapped up at the sound of his voice. He leaned on the ledge of my open bedroom window, looking down. At his command the circle of horror stopped closing in. He smiled at that, enjoying the power.

‘Leave him. He's mine.'

A disappointed murmur rippled around the crowd. It parted just enough for Ameena and the others to be shoved through. Billy stumbled, but I caught him before he could hit the ground. He looked like he wanted to cry, but he was doing his damnedest not to.

‘As we were saying,' Mumbles scowled. ‘“Look out, it's a trap.”'

A girl with her hair scraped back in a tight ponytail and blood across her face stepped forward. She looked to be about ten years old until she scowled, revealing teeth that had been filed to razor-sharp points. ‘What about the rest of them? What do we do with his friends?'

My dad tapped his chin. ‘Well… sorry, what was your name?'

The girl cracked her knuckles. ‘Leah,' she said. ‘Leah Wilson.'

‘Oh,' said my dad flatly. ‘Really? I expected something scarier. Never mind. Well, Leah Wilson, here's what I suggest.' A crooked smile parted his lips. ‘Kill them. Kill them all.' He fixed me with eyes filled with glee. ‘And be sure to do it slowly.'

Mr Mumbles snorted out a laugh. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the little girl. ‘What, Tinkerbell? Kill
me
? I'd like to see her try.'

Leah Wilson flicked her wrists. A long curved claw erupted through the flesh on the back of each hand and she let out an animal hiss.

‘OK,' said Mumbles, suddenly sounding much less confident, ‘maybe I wouldn't.'

L
ed by Leah Wilson, the crowd began to edge towards us. We all drew together in the centre of the circle. ‘Any ideas?'

‘Don't go running along the street like a mental patient?' Ameena suggested. ‘Oh wait, too late.'

Up on Mr Mumbles' shoulder, I.C. whimpered. Something bald and wrinkly lumbered a few paces forward and made a grab for the boy's dangling feet. Mumbles raised a foot and kicked the thing in the groin, then drove a fist into the back of its head as it doubled over in pain. Its nose burst noisily as its face hit the tarmac.

‘Ready?' asked the man in the hat.

I.C. nodded. ‘Sure am, Uncle Mumbles.'

Mumbles grabbed hold of I.C.'s ankles. ‘Please – call me Big Nose,' he said, then he glanced at me and the others. ‘On the ground. Now.'

We dropped down into the push-up position just as Mumbles began to spin. I.C. squealed as he was flung outwards, Mumbles holding his feet as he turned faster and faster on the spot.

Frost began to flow from I.C.'s fingers. It swirled like a tornado as Mumbles continued to spin, and I felt it chill my back as it rolled across the crowd.

The girl with the claws lunged, but immediately froze solid, her face still fixed in that animal snarl. The rest of the front row quickly began to frost over. Those behind, realising what was happening, began pushing into the next row back. Within moments the first fight broke out as something large bumped into something larger.

The night was split by a chorus of squeals and roars as fists and feet and claws began to fly. The army was turning on itself, even as the cloud of cold spread through its ranks.

‘We'll hold them,' Mumbles barked. ‘You lot go get
him.
'

I looked up to my dad and saw he was no longer leaning casually on the window ledge. He was standing straight, the smile falling from his face.

His eyes met mine. He gestured down at the front door just as it swung inwards. ‘Come on in, son,' he said. ‘Welcome home.'

I jumped up and started to run, dodging through horrific ice sculptures on my way to the door. Ameena caught me by the arm. ‘Take it easy,' she warned. ‘Be careful. It's bound to be another trap.'

Billy stepped up beside me. ‘But don't worry. We've got your back.'

‘Thanks,' I said, then I handed him the baton. ‘Take this.'

‘What? Why?'

‘You're better at beating people up than I am.'

He hesitated. ‘Was that a dig?'

‘Yes. No. Maybe.' I gave a sigh. ‘I don't even know any more.'

‘Just get a bloody move on!' Mumbles roared, his shout shoving us on into the house.

I stopped again just inside the front door, overwhelmed by the feeling of being back home, and the knowledge that this might well be the last time I ever would be.

The living room was trashed – even more so than the last time I'd seen it. The furniture was upturned or broken. The TV was smashed, the wallpaper was torn and the smear of blood the Beast had left across the ceiling had dried to a dark, dirty red.

More blood pooled on the patch of carpet where we'd found the dead policewoman, who'd turned out not to be nearly as dead as she looked. That had been what? A day ago? Two? A lifetime of horror had happened since then.

‘Come up, come up, don't be shy,' called my dad from upstairs.

I heard Ameena say, ‘This is it,' but my legs were already carrying me towards the stairs. I walked up slowly, expecting him or something else to appear at the top, but no one did.

Billy and Ameena stuck close behind me. We stopped at my bedroom door. My heart was racing, pounding like a hammer against the inside of my chest. My knee throbbed in time with my pulse –
boom-boom-boom-boom –
as I nudged open the door to my room.

Empty. He wasn't there.

I looked at the window, which still stood open. A few weeks ago Mr Mumbles had tapped against it, trying to get inside so he could kill me. How things had changed.

Further along the landing, I heard a door open. I knew without looking which door it was. My fists clenched and my jaw tensed. My mum's bedroom. He was in Mum's bedroom.

‘There you are,' he said when I stepped out of my room. ‘And you've brought your little school friend too, I see. How nice.' He flicked his gaze across at Ameena and I felt her wilt behind me. ‘And as for you,' he said. ‘Well, we'll get to you later.'

I took a step towards him and he held up a hand. ‘Wait!' he said, and to my annoyance I found myself obeying. ‘It's three against one. That's not fair.'

‘It's just me and you,' I told him. He laughed, a big deep hollow laugh that reminded me how much bigger than me he was.

‘No, I don't think so. Your little friends would jump in at the first chance they got.' His eyes gleamed. ‘Unless, of course, I could find some way of keeping them occupied.'

He looked very deliberately at the door across the landing from mine. It was the bedroom my nan used to sleep in before she went to the home. Ameena had slept there too, after my mum invited her to stay.

The door was closed now. A slide-bolt lock, like the kind you sometimes find on gates and sheds, had been fastened to the door. The bolt was in the closed position, making it impossible to open from the inside.

‘Not bad, eh?' my dad said. ‘I mean, I'm no carpenter, but not too shabby a job, if I do say so myself.'

‘Why did you do that?' I asked. ‘What's in there?'

‘Take a look.'

‘No.'

‘Aaaah,' he said, waggling a finger, ‘but I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to
you
, Billy.'

Billy's acne-scarred brow furrowed. ‘Me?'

‘That's right. You.' He gestured towards the door. ‘Take a look. I think you'll find it very interesting.'

Billy stared at the door.

‘Don't do it,' I told him. His head twitched and he looked away.

‘What, you think I'm an idiot? Of course I won't.'

The lopsided grin spread across my dad's face. He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and leaned against the doorframe. ‘Won't you? I think you will.'

‘Well, you're wrong.'

‘Really? Bet your life?'

‘Don't listen to him, Billy,' Ameena warned. ‘He'll mess with your head.'

‘Go on. Just a quick look,' my dad urged. ‘What harm could it do? Open, closed. Quick peek in, no harm done.'

Billy was focused on the door again, fixated on the lock. He cocked his head and listened to the sound of footsteps on carpet that now came from inside the room.

‘What is that?' he muttered. ‘What's in there?'

‘What do you think it is?'

Billy scowled. ‘How should I know? What is it?'

‘You mean
who
is it?'

A terrible quiet fell across the landing.

‘No,' I whispered, staring in horror at my father. ‘No, don't. You can't.'

‘What? What's he on about?' Billy asked. He looked the door up and down and shifted from foot to foot. ‘Who is it?'

‘Only one way to find out.'

‘Don't. Don't do it,' I said.

Billy kept staring at the lock, kept bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. Tears began to trickle down his bloodied cheeks. He knew. He knew as well as I did who was beyond that door.

‘Come on, Billy. She's just dying to see you.'

‘Don't listen to him,' Ameena said, but Billy was already grasping for the lock.

‘Stop,' I said, grabbing for him. ‘Don't open it. It's too late.'

The lock fell to the floor the moment he touched it. My dad laughed again. ‘Well, looks like I didn't do so great a job after all.'

‘Billy, don't!' I caught his sleeve, but he yanked it away and pushed the handle down.

And there she was, the little girl in the pink pyjamas. The little girl who Billy had abandoned to the screechers when they had first arrived. Billy's baby sister, Lily.

Only it wasn't. Not really. She was merely what remained of Lily.

She had been human, of course, but now she wasn't. Her body was twisted and bent, her knuckles pressed against the floor. Spiky shards of bone stuck out from the knotted muscles across her back and through the few scraps of the pyjamas that still remained.

Her mouth was a ragged cavern of teeth, with strands of saliva hanging like ropes from her wide jaws. Both eyes were a glossy black. I saw Billy reflected in them as he sank to his knees in the doorway and held his arms wide.

‘Oh, Lil,' he whimpered. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘Billy, no!'

I shouldered him out of the way and grabbed for the door handle. Lily lunged, but I hauled the door closed in time to stop her getting free.

‘No, no,
no
!' Billy sobbed. ‘Let me see her. Let her out.'

Ameena spun him round and drove a right hook across his jaw. Billy dropped like a sack of bricks. I looked down at him, lying unconscious on the floor.

‘Good call,' I said.

Ameena shrugged. ‘Been looking for an excuse if I'm honest.'

‘Oh, come on,' my dad said. ‘You spoil all my fun.'

‘Fun's over,' I said.

I tried to get to him, tried to reach him, but he raised his hand and I realised he was holding a gun. It was a semi-automatic pistol, if every action movie I'd ever seen was to be believed. I stopped when he levelled the weapon at my head.

‘This is the gun that killed your mother. And you're right, it is all my fault,' he said. ‘Thank you for recognising all the hard work I've put in. It makes it all worthwhile. Now stay where you are.' He glanced at Ameena. ‘And as for you… Excellent work, my dear. You've done well, bringing him to me.'

I turned to her, my heart rising up into my throat. ‘No,' I whispered as her eyes turned to meet mine. ‘Please no. Not again.'