Blood Moon (22 page)

Anna’s eyes flicked nervously to her right, and Helen followed her gaze to her fifteen year old daughter, weaving her way across the dance floor with four bottles of WKD in her hands. And wearing the slutty outfit she’d been ordered to remove earlier. That, as far as Helen was concerned, was the last straw. She set an intercept course and stormed across the dance floor. Mandy spotted her at the last moment and her eyes widened with mute horror. The bottles fell from her hands, exploding into four fountains of blue liquid and glass shards. She turned to run, but it was too late. Helen’s hand whipped out and closed around her daughter’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

Mandy tried to pull away, her face a mask of mixed emotions. Helen tightened her hold until her knuckles went white and pulled her daughter away from her friends, towards the hallway, where the music faded to a dull roar.

“Where are your clothes? The ones you left the house in?”

Mandy’s eyes darted around as if looking for some escape route, then resignation set in and she looked down at the floor and mumbled a response.

“Look at me when you talk to me, young lady. Where is that nice dress your Grandmother bought you?”

“Outside. In a bag. I stashed it under a wheelie bin.”

“Right. We are going to go out there to get it, right now. Then you are coming back in here, getting changed out of those rags, and we are going straight home.”

“But Mam…”

“But nothing. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

Mandy glanced up to where Chelfyn stood with Ian, her older son. Ian caught her gaze then looked away as her eyes burned into him. Oh yes, he was not going to escape her wrath either. He’d clearly known all about this and had decided to stay silent. Big mistake.

Helen strode outside, past the groups of drunken young men and women. “Where are they? Where did you leave them?”

Mandy’s voice hitched in barely restrained sobs. “Out the back of Poundland.”

“You’d better pray that nothing has happened to that dress. I don’t know what we’ll tell your Gran if it’s been stolen.”

Helen and Mandy tottered through the driving snow around the side of the pub. The snow seemed to glow under the distant street lights, providing at least a degree of illumination as they slipped and slid across the car park. After what seemed like forever, they finally arrived at the rear of the shop. Helen said nothing and stood back with her hands on her hips while Mandy began pushing the snow aside. Moments later she retrieved a rather soggy looking carrier bag from beneath the green plastic bin.

“There,” Mandy said with a touch of defiance in her voice. “Got it. Safe and sound.”

Her tone managed to annoy Helen even more. “Well, that doesn’t mean you are in any less trouble. You’re fifteen years old. You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested, or worse. Now, get back in those toilets and change out of those clothes. You look like a bloody slapper.”

“But Mam, this dress is soaking. I’ll freeze!”

“Well, you should have thought about that before…”

Helen’s tirade was cut off by a polite cough from behind them. She turned around to find a young man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, standing a little too close to them for comfort. “Excuse me, ladies. Don’t suppose I could trouble either of you for a light?”

“No, I’m sorry. Neither of us smoke. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m having a conversation with my daughter.”

The man smiled with a grin that sent a shiver down Helen’s spine. She was suddenly very aware of how far they were away from the pub. “Mother and daughter, eh? Now you mention it, I can see the resemblance. Thought you might have been sisters at first.”

Mandy stood close to her, her hands gripping her arm. “He’s some perv that was hassling me earlier on.”

The man’s smile widened and he took a step back with a mock flourish, bowing as he did so. When he stood back up, the smile was gone, and a knife glinted in his hand. He shrugged. “You know what they say. Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed. Now, I’ve got a van parked just over there. Why don’t you two lovely ladies come with me? You scream, or try to run, and I’ll slice up those pretty faces. Starting with your gobshite of a daughter.”

Helen’s limbs went numb as her body dumped adrenaline into her veins. There was no way that either of them would be able to outrun the man. Not wearing heels. And the bass thud of the music from the pub would drown out any cries for help. She looked around frantically for anyone that might be able to help, but there was no one visible through the driving snow.

The clock on the town hall began to chime. Each peal ringing in the New Year. She could hear the muted cries of people counting them down from the market square and from the pub, which was only just visible through the white blanket. At this moment in time she would have given anything to be with them. Warm, happy and safe with Chelfyn and Ian.

The clock chimed nine… ten… eleven… twelve.

And then all of the lights in High Moor went out.

Chapter 14

31st December 2008. St Paul’s Church Hall, High Moor. 23:59

Sharon glanced at the clock, praying that the night would end soon. What had started off as a distraction from worrying about Phil had, as the night progressed, become an exercise in endurance. Even the children that had been well behaved and polite earlier in the evening had become belligerent, grizzling balls of mucus, tears and temper as the sugar rush subsided and fatigue kicked in. Tonia and Angela’s demeanour seemed to be slipping as well, with a few genuine looks of irritation breaking through the smiles.

The children had been gathered together in a circle, holding hands as they waited for the clock to strike twelve. Then, after the obligatory singing session, all that remained would be the uncomfortable wait for the parents to arrive and take their offspring away. Sharon really hoped that Helen had some booze back at the house. All she wanted to do now was put her feet up and do some real damage to a bottle of Chardonnay.

All eyes were on the clock at the rear of the church hall as the seconds ticked away. A few nervous giggles escaped from the children. Bella’s face was still creased into a scowl over the tuck shop incident and she refused to hold the hands of the two little girls to either side of her, something that neither of the other children seemed to be bothered about.

Angela caught her eye, raised her eyebrows and gave her an encouraging smile. The message was clear. One last push. We’re almost done. She forced her most cheerful smile onto her face as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

Tonia’s voice held a tiny, almost imperceptible strained edge as she spoke. “Alright, Children. It’s almost time. Ten. Nine.”

The children joined in with a weary monotone, all of them presumably as ready to go home as the adults. “Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

The lights went out, plunging the church hall into pitch blackness. Even the comforting orange glow of the streetlights outside was gone. Children squealed in alarm and Sharon heard Tonia curse under her breath from across the hall.

“Okay, everyone, it’s just a power cut,” Angela shouted above the screaming children. “Stay where you are and behave. I’ll go and get the torch from the kitchen.”

Quite predictably, the children neither stayed where they were, nor behaved. The little blonde girl to her left released her hold on Sharon’s hand, although when Matthew tried to do the same she tightened her grip on his wrist.

Squeals and laughter echoed through the darkness, despite Tonia’s exasperated pleas.

“Woooooooooo!”

“Johnny poo’d his pants! Johnny stinks!”

“Get off, you booger!”

“Miiiiisss! Someone just hit me!”

The removal of sight seemed to sharpen Sharon’s other senses. There was a faint, musky odour to the church hall that had not been there before, and beneath the squeals of misbehaving children she could make out another sound. A snapping, tearing noise, as if someone were cutting through an old hessian sack with a fistful of sharpened twigs.

The children heard it too. The jubilant cries of mischief lapsed into an uneasy silence as the strange sounds continued at the rear of the church hall. Sharon tried to visualise what could even make a noise like that, or what could possibly be happening in the darkness. She tightened her hold on Matthew and tried to open her eyes wider in the hope that she would see something – anything.

The noise stopped and, for a moment, there was silence. Then something let out a savage animal growl.

1st January 2009. Sandpiper Public House, High Moor. 00:01

The town was plunged into darkness and silence. Mandy didn’t stop to think, adrenaline and alcohol coursed through her body and she just reacted, lashing out with her foot to where their would-be assailant had been standing. She was rewarded with a satisfying crunch of shoe against something soft and a cry of pain. She grabbed her mother’s wrist. “Come on, Mum. Run!”

Her mother didn’t need to be told twice, and they both kicked off their shoes and ran towards the relative safety of the pub. The music had stopped, but that had not apparently dampened the spirits of the
Sandpiper
’s patrons. A rowdy chorus of Auld Lang Syne, interspersed with cries and cheering, echoed across the empty car park.

Mandy lost her footing, tripping over a buried kerb that sent her sprawling. Pieces of gravel shredded the palms of her hands and knees, but she barely felt it.

Her mother reached out her hand. “Come on, love, we’ve got to get inside before…”

Helen didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as the man who’d called himself Joseph Austin crashed into them. Mandy tried to scramble to her feet – to get away from their attacker – when her stomach exploded in agony and the breath was forced from her body. She collapsed back into the snow, desperately trying to suck air back into her lungs.

“You fucking little bitch! How do you like that? Did you really think you were going to get away with kicking me in the bollocks?”

She heard the whoosh of air as what she assumed was a booted foot connected with her left side, sending another bomb-burst of pain through her. Her mother let out a scream of rage and hurled herself at the man, but he seemed to have anticipated the attack. His fist lashed out and connected with the side of her mother’s head with a loud crack that seemed to resonate around the car park. Her mother collapsed face down in the snow and did not get back up.

The man wiped his hand across his face then kicked Mandy again. “You two are going to pay for that. I swear to God, I’m going to make you wish you were dead.”

Mandy found her voice and screamed for help, praying that someone from the pub would come to their rescue, but her cries were lost in the cacophony emanating from the building. She crawled to where her mother lay and wrapped her arms around her. “Please. Leave us alone. We won’t tell anyone. Just don’t hurt us.”

“It’s too late for that, you little cunt. I’m going to fuck your bitch mother, then I’m going to cut her while you watch. I’m going to…”

The man’s voice faltered and he took a step back, away from them both. Mandy couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but she didn’t need to. It was clear from his body language that Joseph Austin had just seen something that had terrified him. Something that was just behind her. She had to see. Mandy forced down the wave of terror that threatened to drown her and slowly turned her head.

Two glowing green eyes shone out from the darkness, and a deep, guttural snarl echoed around the empty car park. Mandy got the impression of immense mass and power from the shape. Given recent events in the town, it really didn’t take long for her mind to realise what it was she was looking at. A werewolf. Less than ten feet from her.

She let out a small whimper of terror, draping herself over her mother’s prone body as the creature bunched its muscles and pounced.

Mandy squeezed her eyes tight closed, waiting for the terrible pain of the werewolf’s fangs rending her flesh. She felt the air displaced by the monster’s passing, but the expected agony did not materialise. The thing had leaped straight over her and her mother and was stalking towards Joseph Austin, who backed away from the creature, waving his knife out in front of him.

“Stay back. Get away. I’m fucking warning you!”

That, apparently, was all the prompting the werewolf needed. With a roar, it hurled itself at the man, knocking him to the ground. Talons tore through fabric and flesh as if they were as insubstantial as gossamer. Jaws crunched through bones, and within a matter of seconds, the man’s screams had turned into little more than wet gurgles, while the snow beneath him blackened and steamed.

Mandy was in no doubt they would be next. She shook her mother, desperately now. “Mum, wake up. You’ve got to…”

Her hands were sticky and the air was filled with a thick, coppery stench. She looked down at her mother and saw that her eyes were wide open, an expression of surprise on her face. Black ichor dribbled from an inch long hole in her temple. Austin hadn’t just punched her mother. He’d plunged his blade into her skull. Her mother was dead.