Читать книгу The Darkest Corners - Barry Hutchison - Страница 10

I threw the church doors open and sprinted along the aisle. I was still in the Darkest Corners – it was too dangerous to jump back into my own world until I was up the ladder and inside the tower itself – and Joe Crow had almost finished pulling himself back together on the ruined church floor.

He was drawing himself up on his stubby legs as I ran towards him. The sackcloth mask he had been wearing hadn’t made the trip back with him, and his wrinkled, old-man face twisted into a scowl at my approach. He snarled, revealing dozens of tiny, shark-like teeth poking out from his pale gums.

‘I see you came back, boy,’ he spat; then he stopped talking as the sole of my shoe slammed hard into the centre of his weather-beaten face. He stumbled backwards on to the floor, and then I was past him, through the door behind the pulpit and scrabbling up the rusted ladder.

I was halfway up before I realised I couldn’t hear Billy screaming, and all the way at the top before I realised I couldn’t hear anything from within the tower at all.

As soon as I was through the hatch I focused on a spark and moved between worlds. To my relief, Billy was there, almost exactly where I’d left him. He was kneeling down, facing away from me, his hands hanging limply by his sides so his knuckles were almost touching the floor.

He was half hidden by the shadows, but as I took a step closer I saw the spots of blood on the side of his face. I thought back. He hadn’t been bleeding after Ameena hit him, had he? In all the panic, I couldn’t remember.

‘Are you OK?’ I asked. ‘What happened?’

Billy didn’t answer. Up close I could see that his whole body was vibrating. His breath was whistling unsteadily in and out, and he gave the occasional soft whimper as I took another creaky step closer.

‘I heard you screaming,’ I said. He flinched, but didn’t turn round. I took another step towards him. ‘What happened? Why were you screaming?’

Billy’s trembling was becoming more and more violent, as if his body was going deep into shock. He flinched again as I laid my hand on his shoulder.

‘What’s wrong, Billy?’ I asked. ‘What happened? Talk to me.’

With a sob, he slowly turned his head. I felt my guts twist in horror. I stumbled away from him, swallowing the urge to throw up. His eyes bored into mine, ringed with red and filled with tears.

I tried to speak, but no words came. Tried to scream, but my throat was closed tight. Instead I raised a shaking hand and pointed. Pointed at his face; at his mouth; at the thick black stitches that threaded through his lips, pulling them tightly together.

He tried to say something, but the words came out as a jumbled mumble of syllables. His fingers brushed against the stitches, then pulled quickly away. His eyes bulged. His nostrils flared. He let out a high-pitched moan that would have been a scream if he could open his mouth.

‘Wh-who…?’ I began, but a blast of music answered my question before I could even ask it.

It came from the room below, loud enough to shake the floor beneath us.

If you go down to the woods today, you’re in for a big surprise…

‘No,’ I whispered. ‘Not him. Not here.’

If you go down to the woods today, you’d better go in disguise…

Of all the fiends I’d faced so far, Doc Mortis was up there with the worst of them. He was a sadist, a madman who believed himself to be a surgeon, and who kidnapped innocent people and performed grotesque operations on them. I’d barely escaped his hospital. I thought he was dead. It appeared I was wrong.

A crash of breaking wood temporarily drowned out the music from below. One of the wooden boards that had been fastened over an opening in the tower wall was smashed in right behind Billy.

Before he could even turn, a freakishly thin figure reached through the gap. I caught a glimpse of its bald head and its surgical mask. Eyes that were no more than buttons stitched on to skin flashed at me through the gloom, and I recognised one of Doc’s porters.

A scarred hand caught Billy by the back of his jacket and dragged him towards the hole in the wall.

Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic…

‘Billy!’ I cried, reaching out a hand. His fingertips touched mine, but then he was gone, dragged out into the chill night air. I ran to the broken wood and looked out. Screechers heaved through the streets, but there was no sign of Billy or the porter anywhere. They couldn’t have gone far, though. I had to find him. Too many people had suffered because of me as it was.

The wind pushed against me as I squeezed out through the gap and on to the roof, which led down at a steep angle from the side of the tower. The roof extended a few centimetres past the top of the wall, and beyond that lay a dizzyingly long drop to the ground.

With great care I inched away from the tower, trying to get a better view of the roof. My feet slipped on the snow-covered slates and I had to grab for the broken board to stop me sliding off.

My legs kicked frantically, trying to back-pedal to safety. I dug in my heels and pushed until I was finally able to get back into a standing position.

I spent a few seconds getting my nerves back under control, then looked around for Billy. Aside from mine, there were no footprints in the snow. I craned my neck and looked at the top of the tower, but nothing moved up there in the dark.

‘Billy,’ I hissed. ‘Where are you?’ But only the wind replied.

Dozens of panicked screeches began to rise up from below. I leaned out, trying to see over the edge and down to the street. I held on to the wood with my fingertips, craning my neck in an attempt to—

Something slammed against my fingers from inside the tower. There was no time to turn and see who or what was responsible. My feet slipped out from under me and I began to slide towards the edge of the roof.

The sparks fizzled behind my eyes, and I had to grit my teeth and force myself not to give in. Billy had been right. Using my abilities was playing right into my dad’s hands. Was playing right into Ameena’s hands. He – they – were trying to make me end the world. He’d told me right from the start I was going to kill everyone on Earth. I wasn’t going to let him be right.

I closed my eyes and let myself go limp. It was the best I could come up with at short notice.

The edge of the roof came up quickly, the ground almost as fast. The snow was thin beside the wall, the church sheltering that spot from the worst of the snowfall. I landed with a crunch on icy gravel. The impact forced a yelp from me and a dozen deformed figures turned to look in my direction.

I climbed clumsily to my feet, using the church’s brickwork to pull myself into a standing position. A jolt of pain shot up my spine from where I’d hit the ground. I glanced frantically left and right, searching for a way past the screechers, but the screechers were busy with problems of their own.

Something that was more Beast than anything else pounded through the snow on all fours, its huge head lolling left and right. Hot saliva dripped from the monster’s mouth, melting the snow where it fell. It advanced slowly on the screechers, then occasionally leapt at them and snapped its vast jaws.

I pressed myself in tight to the wall, half hidden in a narrow alcove. The screechers who had seen me hesitated briefly, but the beast-like thing began to gain on them and their instinct for survival forced them to leave me behind.

I waited, holding my breath until this new Beast had herded the screechers away, then I crept out across the snow and into the street. The darkness was drawing in, and only a few of the streetlights were working. Staring into the gloom, I tried calling Billy’s name again – quietly, so as not to attract unwanted attention.

No such luck. A screecher appeared in the doorway of the church. Its black eyes scanned the street. Its nose, now elongated into a narrow snout, snuffled hungrily at the air. Its head snapped in my direction and I began to run, tripping and stumbling through the deep snow.

The house I’d hidden in with Ameena and the others was right ahead. The door was closed, but I knew it was unlocked. The howls of the screecher grew louder behind me as I slipped and skidded along the path. I grabbed for the handle and tumbled inside, kicking the door closed just as the screecher launched itself towards me.

There was a thud and the letterbox flapped open. My fingers were too cold and my hands were shaking too badly for me to work the lock. It took four or five attempts before I managed to slide the snib closed. Outside, the screecher gnashed and snarled as it hurled itself against the door.

Turning and running for the stairs, I took them two at a time until I reached the top. One of the doors on the upper landing was in pieces. The body of the screecher that had once been Billy’s cousin lay just beyond it. Gusts of icy wind blew in through the room’s broken window.

I picked another door and found myself in a small bathroom. The light switch was outside the room. I flicked it on as I ran past, and slammed the door behind me.