Hunters: A Trilogy (77 page)

Instead, the young woman found herself face-to-face with the Demon. It had been a while, but even through the huge, red face of Jeremiah, the young woman had immediately recognised the Dark One. She said, angrily: ‘It shocked me! I knew the time for confrontation was near, but I wasn’t ready for him, I just stood there and watched him. I was so scared – I knew I was done for!’

Jeremiah had clambered up the stairs and stared at her for a while. Tilting his head to one side the beast had looked her up and down, giggled and licked his lips. Although she had never heard Jeremiah talk, Tori knew that no earthly being would ever sound like that. ‘His voice rustled like dead leaves,’ she said. ‘It sounded like a bag of rusty nails being shaken – it was awful because I could definitely hear Red’s voice inside him!’ She struggled to find the words to adequately describe the obscene rasping sound, which the man’s voice had made. ‘I just can’t explain how horrible he was!’ she said, looking apologetically at them.

Jane knew exactly what Tori meant, she remembered only too well from her own dream…
‘Aww, c’mon, Lady Jane, where’s your sense o’ huumorrrr?’
She shuddered as the awful sound echoed in her memory. Yes, Jane remembered all right. Smiling at Tori, she told her not to worry as they were all able to imagine the noise, easily.

Tori said that Jeremiah laughed at her, and had then said something about: ‘Me being fresh out of friends’ and about how he had something that would keep me ‘real good company!’’ She blinked, eyelids fluttering several times. ‘Then he attacked me, he just leapt on me like an animal, he was so big, so heavy, I just can’t tell you!’ The memory made her eyes widen with shock as she relived the scene with them. ‘He put one hand around my throat and lifted me clean off the floor – I knew then that I was dead, for sure I was dead! I kicked him in the balls, but it was like kicking the wall and only made him laugh even more, the filthy bastard!’ She had tears in her eyes now, tears of anger.

She paused, as if to clear her mind, before continuing. ‘And then Michael turned up,’ she said, with a huge smile. ‘My knight in blue jeans had arrived. Riding a black-and-red Harley, too – Mike always was a cool customer!’ Her emotion turned to one of joy as she remembered her brother. ‘Then there was a fight, I never knew Michael was like that! He smashed that thing to the four walls of this place!’ She waved her hand in an indication of the general area. ‘It was the most fearful thing I have ever seen, Jeremiah was so incredibly strong, he threw Mike around like a rag-doll! I was so scared, but Mike just laughed and kept on coming back at him, he was like a terrier and I think he scared it, I don’t think the Demon expected that!’ She looked at them and they saw the pride she felt for her dead brother.

Then Tori told them what had happened when her other ‘Love’ had duly arrived, it was how Tori referred to Red, and was the first time she had bared her true feelings for the young man. Jane had been half-wondering if Tori’s relationship with Red had merely been part of the act…collateral damage, so to speak…but, by the sound of things, she was thankfully wrong.

Tori said Red had flown up the steps and lifted her onto his shoulders – she had been trapped, crouching in the corner with disbelieving eyes, watching the insane melee of battling men before her. Red had carried her to the truck and told her to stay put, before bounding back up the steps to join the fight.

Tori said that he, Red, had grasped his father around the neck from behind and then slung him sideways. Jeremiah had crashed into the wall beneath the kitchen window, his huge bulk causing such a shock to the wooden wall that the glass in the window had shattered. The man had instantly bounded to his feet and, ignoring Red, launched himself towards Mike again. As he rushed past, intent only upon Mike, Red had barged into his father, sending the cursing man staggering once more. This time, Jeremiah didn’t ignore Red, turning around he snarled at his son and then punched him. It was an almighty blow, one that Red only half-managed to avoid – as he ducked, Jeremiah’s fist smashed into the top of his head, Red collapsed where he had been standing, the ring on his father’s finger having cut his head to the bone.

‘There was blood everywhere!’ Tori said, looking around as if in an attempt to see the terrible reminder of their ferocious battle. With her voice lowered, she told of how, when Mike had seen the felling of Red, her brother had turned to Jeremiah and swung a blow of his own, his extended knuckles had expertly lanced into the Dragon’s throat.

With the brittle sound of snapping cartilages, Mike’s blow had stopped the man in his tracks. Jeremiah fell to his knees on the wooden floor with his face turning, as she put it: ‘…an almighty purple’. Tori told them that she had thought it would be the end to it, nobody would possibly be able to come back from such a crippling blow as the one Mike had delivered to the Beast – nobody except the Beast himself, it seems.

She said that Mike had grabbed Red, and with a jerk of the arms, hefted the young man to his feet. But, as he looked into Red’s eyes, Mike had failed to see the man behind him stagger to his own feet, whilst reaching unsteadily down to the outside of his left boot.

Tori said that Red had screamed at Mike to move, and then pushed him to one side. As his father lunged at Mike, Red had grasped Jeremiah’s arm and swung him violently, the action sent the huge man staggering past them. Jeremiah’s rushing bulk made the movement even more effective; he crashed shoulder first into the solid oak banister. They had all heard the loud cracking sounds. One came from the shattering wood, whilst the other, more sickening noise, came from the snapping of bones in the Demon’s upper arm as he crashed through the barricade and fell onto his dangling, broken limb. Tori said the sound of bone scraping upon bone, sickening crepitus, was horrifying.

Jeremiah had uttered a long, horrible scream. Then they had all seen the long knife. It twinkled in the sun, sharp blade pointing first at Mike and then at Red, Jeremiah seemingly unable to make up his mind as to who he should attack first. Then, like a giant, injured baboon, Jeremiah had leapt up the stairs.

Tori blinked, saying: ‘I can’t really think about what happened next, it was so quick…’ She stopped again, and sat there in silence for a while, trying to remember. They watched as she stared at them, her own mind rolling back the hours. Then she said, ‘Mike stood up to him, I can remember seeing the knife flashing in the sun, Jeremiah’s arm was like a piston… I saw it going into Michael and he screamed!’

She looked away, and they saw her struggling for control. After composing herself slightly, the girl continued. ‘I saw Red, he leapt onto the bastard and the three of them went down in a heap. Mike was on the bottom and I heard him yelling at me to run, he was screaming: “Get Ken, Get Ken!” I tried to get up the stairs to see if I could help, but Red turned and told me to run, his mouth sprayed blood all over me …’ Tori shuddered once more.

She shook her head and said, ‘I heard Mike scream again and…and then I did run!’ She breathed deeply. ‘The stupid thing is…’ she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement of the wicked irony. ‘…is that I was sitting just inches from your gun, it was right there in the door of the truck, I could have saved him, I could have… I didn’t think – I never knew this was going to happen, I wasn’t ready!’ She moaned, just the once, and then stood up.

After a few seconds, she calmly said, ‘The rest is history. I’m thirsty; would anyone else care for a drink?’ Without another word, Tori turned and walked into the house. She was never to speak another word about the traumatic events.

Fetching some fresh coffees and another two beers for Ken, Tori re-joined them on the veranda, where together they sat and watched the night come to them. It brought with it a slight chill and Ken disappeared to get some wood for the brazier. Dragging it over to the porch, he soon had a healthy blaze going. The grieving foursome dragged their chairs nearer to its welcoming glow. It warmed their bones and pushed the chill from within their hearts.

Jane had made the other women a stiff drink – her personal favourite was chocolate milk, served piping hot with lashings of brandy. Stirring another tot into the mixture, she thought: ‘What the hell, life’s too short,’ and splashed a bit extra of the golden alcohol into their mugs. She raised her own drink in a toast to Mike. ‘Cheers Mikey!’ she said. After having a quick sip, she carried the drinks outside and re-joined the others on the patio.

Ken had pulled some sausages from the fridge and was busy grilling them on the fire. He looked at the women, saying: ‘Yeah, I know, I know… but we still have to eat!’ He passed each of them a sizzling sausage, which they happily tucked into.

What had started off as a horrendous day was now seemingly in the process of becoming slightly more amiable. Alcohol is such a wonderful thing, sometimes. Talking of wonderful things – Mike’s departure was more than merely wonderful, it was truly amazing.

At bang on five minutes before midnight – 23:55hrs exactly – as they sat watching the sky and sipping on their drinks, a barely discernible whistling noise started to fill the air. The gathered humans never heard it at first; the pitch was far too high. However, what they did hear was every dog, wolf, fox and anything else with even the slightest trace of the canine gene in its blood, beginning to howl. They didn’t bark or yelp, and there was no yapping or whining, either. No, they howled. Every single one of them howled. The wailing chorus floating through the still night air and echoing across the dark fields like some strange warning siren was one of the most eerie sounds that any of them had ever heard. It was almost as though the animals were singing.

And then, at a single stroke, their moaning choir stopped. The unexpected silence left in its wake seemed to be almost louder than the noise the beasts had been making in the first place. Ken looked in disbelief at the women next to him, then, more jokingly, stared at his beer. The women laughed at him, shaking their heads and using the moment to remove some of the madness from the bizarre situation. Sitting there laughing, they all began to sense the slight vibration that pulsed through the house. It was only a fleeting moment, like imagining the beginning of an earthquake.

‘What was that?’ Jane said, looking at the ground in surprise.

Ken had felt it too, and quickly checked upwards to make sure the roof wasn’t coming down or something.

Maggie smiled at them and said, ‘Michael is leaving, look at the sky!’

Turing their faces to the sky, they did as she had said.

Mike started with a faint glow, it came from down by the apple tree, its luminescence gradually brightening the air surrounding the tree. The light didn’t really have a colour, as such, it was merely a faint glow, sitting there, pulsing softly for a while. Then there was that familiar ‘Rrrrriiiippp’ feeling – its passing wobbled the air around them. They felt it in their heads; it was as though they were standing on the platform of an underground railway station as a train came hurtling past. The buffeting vacuum almost feels like it will suck everything along with it into the blackness of the tunnel. With very much the same sensation, the strange, ripping sound seemed to pass straight through them; the feeling almost took away their breath, and certainly blurred their vision.

Before any of them had a chance to say a word, Mike’s gentle glow began to lift magically into the air. All trace of passiveness was now long-departed, the soft orb now turning into a ball of the most brilliant, blue light – it was laser bright and crystal clear. The light was so bright that it very nearly forced the onlookers to turn away, but it was so fascinating that they were unable to. They had to watch, had to. Unbelievably, as though it was being sucked into an invisible pipe, the light began to stream upwards, gradually at first – dripping aloft in gentle pulses – then it began to accelerate at an increasing rate, before turning into a solid, upward-pouring stream of light. The speed at which it climbed was almost mind-boggling, like a blue fireball, the light rocketed into the heavens.

As Mike disappeared, the four spellbound onlookers saw that his passing had left behind a faint halo of light, the strange substance hung in the atmosphere like a giant smoke-ring. They heard a far off rumble, and then the sky darkened.

Tori shouted: ‘I’ll see you later, Michael, my baby – see you, Mikey!’ Then, no longer able to hold back her deepest emotions, she burst into floods of uncontrollable tears. The others gathered round the girl and let her sob, holding her tightly until the pain had faded.

When it had disappeared, gone into the night, disappeared like Mike had disappeared, Tori looked up at them, smiling through reddened eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I…well, I guess that I don’t really need any more words, do I?’

They nodded in understanding and hugged her once more. Tori looked at them and smiled weakly. Jane kept hold of her hand and remained sitting next to the young woman, their grip intertwined so tightly that it seemed as though they might never let each other go.

As the foursome sat on the porch, the silence hanging over them broken only by the sound of logs spitting in the brazier, the mood seemed to lift a little. As one, they looked up into each other’s faces and smiled, the orange firelight glowing against pale skin, flaring like candles in their glistening eyes.

As if jolted by the noise of the spitting logs, Ken rose to his feet and threw some more wood on the fire. ‘Well, I don’t know about you guys,’ he said, ‘but I’m gonna sit here and have a few drinks on Mike. That was one damned-fine light show – I’ll bet that I don’t get one anywhere near as good!’

Laughing at his sick humour, the women picked up their own drinks glasses. In no time at all, Ken’s last farewell to Mike had managed to become a very drunken, emotional evening.

It was a long time later – two whole years, maybe even longer – before they began to recover from the terrible loss of Mike. Months of coming to terms with all the things that had passed, two long years of looking at the sky and wondering. Red had been returned to them in one piece, sporting only some neat scars on his barrel-chested body, but it was his mind that needed far more healing. He didn’t know, nor would ever fully understand, the complete picture. It took several months of helping Red to try and understand the situation, long hours spent letting him to deal in his own way with the fate of the man he had become so fond of – perhaps even loved.