Ultimate Supernatural Horror Box Set (184 page)

Lucas turned to Harry, confusion on his face.  “What’s that now?”

“I said how do you know my surname?  I didn’t tell you.”

Kath huffed.  “Do we really have time for this, Harry?  We need to get going.”

Lucas shrugged.  “I didn’t realise it was such a secret, fella.”

“It’s not,” Harry admitted, “but I never told it to you.”

“The demon monks outside said it, didn’t they?  They said, HARRY JOBSON YOU ARE THE SINNER.  Or something like that.”

Harry thought for a moment.  “No, Lucas, you knew before that.  You called me Major Jobson earlier at The Trumpet.”

Kath looked pissed off, but at the same time seemed a little interested also.  It appeared she wanted to see what Lucas’s answer would be.

But he gave none.

Harry took a quick breath, trying to stay calm.  “Lucas, I asked you a question.”

The Irishman scratched at his head before letting his arms loose to swing by his sides.  “Do you really want to do this now, Harry Boy?”

Harry’s stomach churned as he wondered whether he really
did
want to do this now.  He really had no idea who Lucas was, what he was planning, or what he was capable of.  Harry swallowed.  “Yeah, I want to do this right now.  Who the hell are you and how do you know me?”

Lucas walked over to the cash register and hopped up onto its surface, then took a long, deep breath.  “Who I am is something we really don’t have time for right now, but how I know you is a little easier.”

“Well, get started then,” Harry demanded.

Lucas nodded.  “I know you, because you’re the sinner.  Same reason them outside know you – who, might I add, have nothing to do with me.”

“You expect me to believe that?  You must have something to do with them.”

“I really don’t.  You have my word, for what it’s worth.  What happened tonight was going to happen whether I turned up or not.”

Kath stepped towards Lucas.  “Who
are
you?  What’s going on?”

Lucas looked tired of the questions already, but he still gave answers.  “Both questions we don’t have time for.  All I can say is that the fellas outside came for Harry.  Does the ‘what’ or the ‘why’ really matter?”

“It does to me,” said Harry.  It felt like his stomach was going to burst open and release his organs onto the floor.  The scar on the back of his hand throbbed; it always did when he was losing control, as though it were trying to remind him what could happen when he let his anger run away with him. 

“Why me?” Harry asked, trying to keep his focus on what mattered.

“B’Jaysus, we’re going around in circles.  Because you’re the sinner.”

Kath shook her head.  “Why is Harry ‘the sinner’?”

Harry would tell her why.  It was time to own up.  “Because I murdered a man.”

Lucas acted as though he knew this all along, but Kath recoiled in horror, stepping away from Harry and towards the door.

“Calm down, woman,” said Lucas.  “He’s not intending to kill
you.
”  He looked at Harry.  “Are you?”

“No, of course not!  The man I killed destroyed my life.  It was revenge.  So why is this all because of me?  There’re far worse people in the world,”

“I agree,” said Lucas.  “In the grand scale of things, you’re pretty low down on the Sin scale, but murder is murder.”

“But why did
my
sin cause all this?  If that’s what you’re suggesting?”  Harry felt dizzy.  This morning he’d woken up expecting the day to end in a drunken stupor just like the 365 days before it.  He never expected it to end like this.

Lucas stared at Harry intensely.  The man’s blue eyes seemed to light the darkness around him.  “Because
yours
was the last.  The sin that finally tipped the scales.”

Harry was about to demand what the hell that meant, but, before he could grab Lucas around the throat and force him to speak sense, the doors blew inwards.  Not a gust of wind swinging them open, but an actual concussive force that ripped them from their hinges and flung them across the room.  The wind and snow flew in through the gap like the breath from a dragon. 

Harry ran to Lucas and grabbed the man by the arm.  “What the hell is happening?”

Lucas had to shout to be heard above the howling wind.  “They’re coming to get you.”

Harry shook his head.  “But inside the pub we were safe, they left us alone.  Why are they coming inside now?”

“They couldn’t enter the pub, but they can enter here.  That’s all I can tell you, right now, but I can help you get out.”

“I’m listening.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow and smiled.  “Go and get all of the porno magazines.”

“What?”  Kath joined them over at the cash desk.  The wind had blown her dark hair into a freakish mess of tangles.  She looked like a homeless witch.  “This is no time for self-gratification.

“Just go and get me all the smutty magazines,” Lucas reiterated.  “You’ll see why.”

Harry lacked the energy to ask more questions.  The monsters outside would be inside any minute, led by the insidious dog beasts that had shredded poor, stupid Jerry to pieces.  He turned, ran, and then sprinted over to the magazine aisle.  It was closest to where the fire doors had been and the nearest racks were shedding their contents under the harsh wind attacking them.  Harry almost slipped on a Gardening Annual as he made his way over to the far end, where the shining images of bikini clad women lay three deep.  Why on earth Lucas wanted all the lad mags, he could not fathom, but it seemed as though the man know what was going on a lot better than anyone else.  Harry saw little choice but to do what Lucas asked.

He picked up a copy of
Nipples
and then quickly gathered up several more publications of ill-repute.  He clutched the pile to his chest and turned back in the opposite direction, making sure not to slip on the Gardening Annual as he ran back to Lucas.  When Harry got there, the Irishman was accepting what looked like cello tape from Kath, who’d obviously been sent on her own errand.

Harry stood in front of Lucas and waited.  “Well?”

“Set the pornos down on the counter, fella, and pass me that broom behind the counter.”

Harry played along, leaning over the service desk to grab the wooden handle.  “Okay, got it.  Now what?”

Lucas took the broom and placed it on the counter with the magazines.  Then he began to tear out the pages featuring naked women (as well as a few men).

“What are you doing?” Kath asked him.  “We need to hurry.  I can hear them growling out there.”

Lucas ignored her and carried on tearing the pages.  Once a modest pile of immodest pictures had accrued, he grabbed the cello tape.  What he did next was the most bizarre.  Lucas began to wrap the broom head up in the naked pictures, fastening them with the tape.  He wrapped the handle too in the same way.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore, the growling from outside was too close.  “Okay, Lucas.  I’m all for arts and crafts, but what is this helping?”

Lucas shoved the porno broom into Harry arms.  “You’ll see.  Right, that sorts out the choir; now something for the hounds.”
Harry raised an eyebrow.  “The choir?”

Lucas ignored him and disappeared into one of the aisles.  When he came back he was holding something in each hand.

“Salt?” said Kath.

“Aye,” said Lucas.  “It’ll deal with the growly fellas, trust me.”  He handed one of the tubs of salt to Kath and kept one for himself.  Apparently, the broom was going to be Harry’s weapon.

“Fine,” Harry sighed.  “Let’s just get out of here before those things get in here.”

“Too late.”  Lucas pointed over to the doorway at one of the ‘hounds’.  It sat watching them all, ears pricked up like an over-sized spaniel. 

Except spaniels don’t have so many teeth
. 

When the beast saw that it had caught their attention, it began to snarl; a low, buzzing sound that increased to a full-blown rumbling.

“What should I do?” asked Kath, holding the salt tub out in front of her with a shaking hand.

“Watch and learn,” said Lucas, who walked forward slowly, almost casually, towards the beast.  As he got nearer, the creature bunched up, muscles tensing as it prepared to attack.  Lucas was unconcerned and met the hound head on.

Harry swallowed in anticipation. 
Insane.  The man’s insane.

Lucas looked back at them and nodded, as if to say
‘
watch this’, then flicked the salt container back and forth, spilling out a long stream of granules through the air.  Instantly, the beast began to howl, its whimpers no different to a beaten puppy, weak and subservient.   Harry soon smelt burning and realised it was the animal’s flesh.  Like sausages grilling on a barbeque, but with a hint of something else.

Eggs?  No, something else.  I remember it from school…

The smell was sulphur
.

The hound bolted; turning and running back through the doorway and into the night, leaving behind a cloying puddle of dissolving flesh that made Harry want to retch.

“Now we can go,” said Lucas.

“What about the ‘choir’?” Harry asked.

“That’s what the broom’s for.  Make sure you use it when the time is right.”

“And how do I know when that is?”

“It’ll be when something starts trying to kill you.”

Right,
thought Harry
.  I’ll just use my broom kung fu on them.  Fuck sake, when we get back to the pub Lucas better have some goddamn answers. 

Unless he stabs me in the back before we even get there. 

“Okay,” said Harry, looking out into the freezing dark night.  “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Thirty-THREE

Jess held Peter in her arms, amazed that he was actually awake.  Nearby, Steph was looking after Damien, who was doing okay despite having been stabbed.  As things turned out, the blade had lodged between his ribs and hadn’t gone in more than an inch or so.  Damien said it hurt like hell but he’d be okay, despite the heavy bleeding.  She’d wanted to have a look at the wound but Damien was too macho to allow it. 

When Jess untied Steph, she’d had to wake her up and coax her from unconsciousness.  Once she’d snapped back to reality, though, Steph was visibly horrified by what Nigel had done.  She’d started weeping.  Damien had then sent her away to tend to her wounds.  Jess had a feeling that he’d only suggested it to give her something to concentrate on other than the attack. 

Nigel was out cold in the middle of the floor.  They would have to tie him up soon, but, for now, everyone would have one eye on him, ready to beat him down if he dared make the slightest move.  Damien stood over him now, poker in hand.   

After saving her, and losing consciousness, Peter had slowly stirred back awake, semi-lucid again.  Lay across Jess’s lap, his body-warmth pulsed through her clothing.  He was burning up badly and she worried about his temperature being so high.  She looked down at him now with more concern than she’d ever felt for a person.

“Did the nasty man…hurt you…Jessica?”

“No, Peter.  You saved me.  You’re my hero.”

Peter smiled a grim, broken-toothed smile.  “I am…sorry I let you go out alone.  I…looked for you.”

Jess smiled down at him.  “I know you did.  It wasn’t your fault.  No one could know what was going to happen tonight.  I think it’s the end of the world or something.”

Peter closed his eyes for a few seconds and Jess worried that he would not open them again.  The boy’s breathing was uneven and shallow.  She shook him gently.  “Peter, are you okay?”

He opened his eyes again.  “I am…fine.  The world is not ending, Jessica.”

“No?”

“No.  As long as there are still beautiful things, we will be…okay.”  He was looking at Jess and she realised that he meant her.  “Can I…ask you…something?”

“Yes,” said Jess.  “Of course you can.  What is it?”

“Can I…kiss you?”

Jess was taken aback.  After all Peter had been through tonight, the only thing he wanted was a kiss. 
And from me?
  Did he have feelings for her before all of this?  Or was he just delirious?  Of all the times Jess had thought about kissing Peter, the whole time he had perhaps been thinking the same.  It hurt her soul to a point where she felt like she couldn’t go on, that she was ready to just lie down and wait for death.  First though, she had a question from a dear friend to answer. 

“Yes, Peter,” she said, “you can kiss me.  Peter…”

Jess looked down at her friend and realised that he was dead.  The only thing stopping Jess from screaming was how peaceful he looked.  She was glad that his pain was finally over and smiled down at him one last, final time.  “Yes, Peter, you can kiss me.”  She leant down and placed her lips against the soft, delicate mouth of her friend, sad and angry that he would never get to be anything more.  “Goodbye,” she said, finally, placing him down on the floor.  Jess was surprised to find an empty, hollow place inside of herself.  Part of her had just died.

Jess stood up and Damien noticed her.  He asked if she was alright.

Then Steph came back from wherever she’d been and immediately noticed Peter lying dead on the floor.  She looked at Jess and shook her head solemnly.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

Jess nodded, feeling numb.  “It’s okay.  At least I got to say goodbye…in a way.”

Steph nodded.  “Can we do anything?”

Jess was about to answer when movement from the corner of her eye startled her.  “Nigel’s up.”

The three of them grouped together as Nigel staggered about like a wounded animal, his skin blackened and weeping pus.  Jess waited for him to run at them, wailing and screeching like a demon, but thankfully he hurried away instead, bumping into tables in an effort to escape.

“He’s trying to do one,” said Damien.

“Let him,” said Jess.  “He can go and freeze out there.”

Nigel bumped into more furniture and fled towards the door.  Jess wasn’t sure if he’d fully regained his senses from the blow to his head yet.  He certainly seemed disorientated and unsettled, but somehow he managed to find his way to the door, flinging it open and staggering outside.  Then he was gone, disappearing into the night.  Jess prayed never to see him again.