Darkmouth (4 page)

Read Darkmouth Online

Authors: Shane Hegarty

BOOK: Darkmouth
13.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
7

F
inn turned onto a street that featured a row of apparently derelict houses on one side, windows bricked up or boarded, some painted with childish images of flower boxes in an attempt to brighten them up a bit. A couple of trees sprouting from the sidewalk softened the view a little, but a long blank wall on the other side of the street gave everything an inescapably austere look.

In a town with street names that spoke of Darkmouth's violent past, this one had no name. Finn's house was the last in the row, ordinary looking and unremarkable.

As he approached, Finn could see a police car parked just behind his father's. The front door to the house was open and he could make out the figure of the local sergeant just inside.

Finn scurried to the low wall that hemmed in the small patch of grass outside his house. Out of sight, he crouched and listened.

“You know we appreciate what you do, Hugo,” Sergeant Doyle was saying. “And we know you've got to teach the boy.” The sergeant was a large man who used to be barrel-chested, but that barrel had slumped into his belly with age. “But this is the third time in only a few weeks.” There was a pause. Finn peered over the wall into the open doorway and saw Sergeant Doyle flip open a notepad and begin reading. “Two walls pulverized in Fillet Lane. A car half-destroyed by your boy at the Charmless Gap—”

“Okay, Sergeant,” said Finn's dad, raising his hands. “We'll be sure to—”

“Two people treated for shock.”

“We can cover whatever costs—”

“The real cost is to you, Hugo. The people here are already scared stiff of the monsters; they don't need to fear the people who are supposed to be protecting them.” Sergeant Doyle never looked pleased to be in Darkmouth. This day was no different.

“I have to train him, Sergeant—” began Finn's dad.

“We
know
you need to teach the boy, but there must be a better way than giving him a weapon and letting him loose,” said Sergeant Doyle, stepping away from the door. Pressed against the wall, Finn felt the heat rise in
his face. The sergeant walked right past Finn without noticing him, got into his car, and rolled down the window. “Hugo, you and I both know people here wonder why Darkmouth is the last place left where these attacks still happen. They're beginning to blame you. Some of them are even asking if you keep letting the monsters in deliberately to keep your job.”

“Ah now, Sergeant . . .”

“There are people in Darkmouth who wonder if they might be better off dealing with this themselves. It's the twenty-first century, Hugo. They think they can buy monster-killing kits on the internet.”

Finn's dad sighed. “They're called Legends.”

“What?”

“See you, Sergeant.” Finn's dad watched Sergeant Doyle drive off. “Close the door on your way in, Finn,” he remarked as he reentered the house.

Finn groaned. He should have known it was pretty much impossible for him to snoop on his dad. Even his childhood games of hide-and-seek had been ruined by his father's inability to even
pretend
he didn't know where his son was.

As Finn started toward his front door, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a blur farther back
along the street, moving quickly from one doorway to another. It was smaller than him, but tall enough, and he caught a glimpse of what might be fur. Red, flaming fur. Either that or . . .

Finn hesitated, opened his mouth to call his dad, then decided against it.

He held his palm out but felt no rain, turned his head toward home but heard no alarm.

He looked at his house, then back toward the figure. Quick and deft, it disappeared around the corner.

This was one chase Finn needed to do himself.

He followed it.

8

A
s he turned the corner, Finn got a better glimpse of the figure he was pursuing.

He felt a shot of relief as it confirmed what he had hoped from the moment he saw it. He was confident now that he would not need any help, any armor, any weapon. Nor would he need any of the courage his father kept insisting he would one day find.

It wasn't a Legend but a person. And, if a person was going to be sneaking around, a mass of blazing red hair wasn't much use for blending in.

Arriving onto the next street, he saw her right away. She hadn't even attempted to hide, but instead appeared to be waiting for him, leaning against a wall, her eyes only half-visible behind her hair. Finn had felt those eyes trained on the back of his head throughout the school day, but whenever he had glanced back at her she hadn't been looking at him.

“What do you want?” he asked, realizing he didn't know the new girl's name.

“You're Finn, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” said Finn crossly. “And you are . . . ?”

She didn't answer.

“Why are you following me?” said Finn. “I mean, have you seen my street? We don't exactly get many visitors.”

“That's not what I heard.”

“Then you should know that you're better off staying away.” He took a deep breath so he could stand a bit taller. “I deal with a lot of things far worse than you every day of the week, and it usually doesn't work out well for them.”

“That's not what I heard either.”

Finn immediately deflated. “You seem to have heard everything then,” he said, betrayed by a squeak of hurt in his voice. “Now leave me alone.”

He turned and started marching away.

“Emmie!” she shouted after him. “My name's Emmie. Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. First-day nerves, I guess.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Finn paused, but he still didn't know what to say.

“I mean, my dad moved here because of his job and I never thought I'd end up in a small town because, you know, I grew up in the city and I've never had to be the
new
girl, not that I had that many friends back home anyway, but I had a few and now they're there and I'm here and this town is kind of weird because, you know, I wasn't even allowed to bring Silver with us because he'd get hurt just climbing the walls because—oh, Silver's my cat, by the way—because of all the glass on them. I mean, what is the story with this place and its high walls and all the glass and these narrow mazy alleys? Do people actually like living like this? Because it seems like, I don't know, kind of depressing. I mean, another few weeks and I'll probably just go completely . . .”

Emmie stopped, suddenly aware of how much she had blurted at him.

Having been blurted
at
, Finn was a little stunned.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “It's to stop those, erm, things, isn't it? I heard all about it. In school.”

She stepped forward, her hair parting a little to reveal green eyes that were wide with enthusiasm. “Tell me, do you see many of them? Did you see one this morning? Are they dangerous? What are they like? Have you ever
killed
one?”

Self-awareness reasserted itself and she stepped back, tucking her head down so that her face again retreated behind her hair. “Sorry. I shouldn't be so nosy,” she said.
“It's just, well, it's kind of
cool
.”

A flush burst across Finn's cheeks. Emmie looked around, seeming a little uncomfortable. “I've blabbered on too much. I'd better go.”

“Oh,” said Finn, still a bit dazed by all of this.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she said brightly.

“Whatever. At school, I suppose.”

“I'll see you before that, on the way there.”

Emmie opened the door of the house they were standing in front of and disappeared inside.

Finn remained where he was, somewhat bemused by the encounter. He looked at the house for a few seconds. It was a standard town house, nothing special. His was similar, of course—from the outside at least—so he knew how deceptive looks could be, but Emmie's was on an ordinary street, lined with busy houses and cars and a sense of life. It wasn't the ruin that his street appeared to be. He envied that.

Finn turned to make his way home. As he did, he noticed the twitch of a curtain in the downstairs window, but whoever was there was gone just as quick.

9

F
inn sat at the desk in his bedroom, below a windowsill cluttered with coins, batteries, broken pieces of an old phone, and a frayed stuffed animal with eight arms and soft fangs that he'd never been able to bring himself to throw out. His goldfish, Bubbles, picked around the stones in his tank, occasionally darting in fright at his own reflection.

In front of him was a large hardcover book:
The Most Great Lives of the Legend Hunters, From Ancient Times to the Modern Day, volume 18, From Rupert the Unwise to Sven Iron-Tooth
. Finn was supposed to be studying it, but his eyes were not on the book. Instead, they were on the now dark, quiet street outside, which still glistened with the wet of the day's rain.

His
mind
was somewhere else entirely.

It was replaying the sight of the car that morning, crumpling like a tin can. The disappointment on his
father's face. The moment when the Minotaur had cornered him. The smell of its breath still clung to Finn's nostrils, forcing him to run the scene over and over in his head, and he felt his shame grow with every replay until it formed a large knot in his chest.

From deep within the house, he could hear dull thuds and whirrs. His father had been making something for weeks now, sometimes long into the night. Since returning home, Finn had seen him only briefly—when he walked into the kitchen while Finn was doing his homework, telling him what section of
The Most Great Lives
he had to read that night, while prizing a blade from the blender, before leaving again without explanation.

There was a thump so loud it sent a shiver through the house and shook Finn out of his self-pity. Then silence.

Finn tried to clear his mind. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the curved, diamond-like object that had been in the Minotaur's nose and held it up to let the streetlight catch its edges. Before he could study it further, his door opened. Finn quickly threw the crystal into an open drawer.

“Mam! You're supposed to knock before coming in.”

“Sorry, Finn,” his mother said, entering the room. “I was just worried about you. I heard you had a tough day.”

They sat on the edge of his bed together. “How was work?” he asked her. His mother was a dentist and, as she did most days, she had brought home a faint odor of chemicals and ground teeth. This was more comforting to Finn than he had ever stopped to consider.

“Not as exciting as your day, thankfully. Although everyone was talking about the Legend that came through this morning. Luckily, all I had to do was wave the drill at them and they shut up pretty quickly.” She put her arm around Finn and went to give him a kiss on the top of his head.

Finn smiled, but squirmed away. “I'm not a baby, Mam.”

“You're still
my
baby,” she replied quietly.

He groaned in protest. He didn't want to admit that it warmed him when she said that.

There was a
phwump
from deep in the house, followed by the long
squeeee
of a drill. “I wish he'd hurry up and finish whatever it is he's building down there,” said Finn's mam. There was another thud. “Have you talked to him? About . . . this morning?”

“Not much. It's fine, really. Stop worrying.”

Finn's mam looked at him. “I knew what I was getting into when I met your father. You never had that choice.”

“Sometimes, I wish you were a Hunter too,” said Finn. “You'd be a really good one.”

Finn's mam grinned. “I don't think my parents would have let me marry your dad if I'd been expected to do
that
. I don't think
I
would have married him. Anyway, you know the rules. Civilians can't become Legend Hunters, Finn. You've got to be born into it.”

Finn and his mother were quiet for a few moments, the only sound the goldfish pecking at pebbles.

“I mean it, though, Mam. You'd be a great Hunter.”

“I could give them a good flossing until they succumbed. Or threaten them with a root canal.”

Finn smiled weakly, sending another trickle of warmth through his chest, loosening the knot a little.

“I'll talk to your dad,” his mother said, standing up. “Get him to go a bit easier on you.”

“No!” snapped Finn, before quickly calming down. “Please don't. I'm trying really hard, it's just . . .”

“I understand.” His mam gave him another kiss on the head before she left. This time he didn't squirm so much.

Finn got up and locked the door after her, then went back to his desk and took the diamond from its hiding place. He heard the front door of the house open and looked out of the window to see light spilling onto the sidewalk.

His father's long shadow knifed across the street. Finn could see that his attention was focused on the far end of the road, where a parked van started up its engine and, without even turning on its lights, slowly pulled away.

His father turned back to the house and there was the heavy sound of the front door being bolted.

Finn wrapped the diamond in an old pair of pants and placed it at the back of his underwear drawer where it would be safe. He didn't know what he was doing with it, only that it felt too late to admit to having picked it up in the first place. It was his souvenir. No one would need to know.

He sat back down at his desk and flipped through
The Most Great Lives
, only half registering the text, until, from beneath it, he pulled out a smaller, thinner book. On its cover was a man in blue medical scrubs holding a dog by the jaw. It might not have been too clear whether he was about to help the dog or punch it except for the title, half-obscured by a school library stamp:
So You Want to Be a Veterinarian
.

Finn read a few pages, poring over the images of dogs, cats, birds, and lizards, with instruments pointed at their ears, and confident-looking people in scrubs holding down their tongues, combing through their fur, feathers,
or skin. He imagined himself in those scrubs rather than a fighting suit. He closed his eyes and saw himself tending to an animal rather than blasting one, healing creatures rather than shrinking them into little balls.

His daydream was interrupted by the sounds again, deep in the house. Finn placed his head on the desk, the page of the book cool on his cheek, and listened to the noises, feeling the vibration tickle his face.
Khrump, khrump, khrump
. Silence.
Squeeee
.

They didn't stop him from quickly falling into a deep sleep.

 

From
A Concise Guide to the
Legend Hunter World, vol. 2,
chapter 65:
“The Infested Side: A
Guide to What We Know and What
We Don't” (published by Plurimus,
Magesterius, Fortimus & Murphy)

 

Over the years, there
have
been instances of Legend Hunters traveling to the Infested Side, either to wage an attack or because they were abducted by Legends. There was even one infamous attempt to make peace with the Legends. And, in at least three recorded cases, people simply tripped and fell into a gateway.

The experiences of those who have returned from the Infested Side are largely unverified. However, there are consistencies in their accounts: They each arrive home with vivid descriptions of a scorched world, poisoned and poisonous, where death clings to every bare tree and every shard of burned scrub. They also arrive home with a really, really bad smell.

So, over hundreds of years of such visits, added to the words and screams of thousands of interrogated Legends, we have learned many things about the Infested Side.

Some of them may even be true.

Other books

Back on Solid Ground by Trueman, Debra
Breakwater by Carla Neggers
Steps For A Taboo Roadtrip by Nadia Nightside
Hotel Ruby by Suzanne Young
Grizzly by Gary Paulsen
Bluestocking Bride by Elizabeth Thornton
Weep No More My Lady by Mary Higgins Clark
The 14th Day by K.C. Frederick
Behind the Walls by Merry Jones
Guns Up! by Johnnie Clark