Should Have Killed The Kid (12 page)

I put my hand in one of…
Dave’s eyes shot back up to the crater he’d formed in the mottled black belly of a body that decay had reduced to a sexless thing. If there’d been anything left in his stomach he had no doubt he would have vomited once more. As it was he merely gagged as he raised his hand in horror and stared at the muck coating the ends of his fingers.

Over and over and over. Endless gagging that Dave thought would never cease.

‘Oh goody, you’re awake.’

The lisping voice sounded from behind him and as Dave placed it, he realised that he’d been wrong. That there was one thing that could stop his gags in an instant.

As the image of Bruno Gallo’s head pulped across the bar seared through his brain, the flood of rage that gripped Dave had him abruptly whirling, roaring in anger as he turned to attack the old man.

He caught a brief glimpse of the same crumpled suit and the blazing eyes then the anger left as quickly as it arrived. As soon as he glanced down and saw the glittering blade in Monty’s hand, a switch flipped in his brain and his charge died out into nothing more than a sagging step forward, his eyes widening as the roar on his lips died out into a meek squeak.

The blade drew his eyes like a magnet. Closer and closer until it looked as big as a sword though in reality it couldn’t have been more than six or seven inches. Dave was so focused on its shining length that it took him a long time to realise that Monty wasn’t alone. Even when he did, Dave barely managed to spare a second glance at the naked boy that stood next to Monty, held in place by a hand at the back of his neck. Just a brief glimpse of pale skin, tousled brown hair and saucer eyes, then it was back to the metal blade.

Monty moved forward, pushing the kid ahead of him. Dave whimpered and took a matching step back.

Then another. And another, seeking to put a little bit of distance between the two of them.

‘Don’t move.’ Monty’s lisp suddenly rose in volume as he raised the knife. Instantly Dave froze in place. His breath hitched in his throat even though he realised the old man was just gesturing at something over his shoulder. ‘Behind you,’ Monty added in a softer tone and Dave couldn’t resist craning his head around.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he did a quick double take. On the wall above a stack of fairly fresh looking corpses – fresh enough that Dave could still discern gender – a strange thing had happened to the bluestones. It took a couple of glances to decipher exactly what it was.

And even then Dave wasn’t certain he got it correct.

The stone appeared to be swirling, as though a whirlpool had formed in the centre of the wall, turning it into a black, swampy soup that roiled and churned even as it spun around and around in circles. Within the darkness, something else seemed to lurk. Something that Dave couldn’t quite make out, just catch the occasional glint of as it darted to and fro like a knife flashing through a darkened alley.

Dave felt something run up the entire length of his spine as he watched the whirling for a moment and then somewhat unsteadily took a cautious step back away from it, the knife in Monty’s hand suddenly forgotten. Even the horrible stink of the room seemed to drop down a level or two as his reeling brain tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

Monty pushed the kid forward another step and Dave stared at the boy dumbly only realising how cold the room had grown when he saw the way his bony frame shivered. Though the kid wasn’t making any noise, the wide eyes were red-rimmed and it was clear he’d recently been bawling. Even as he watched, Dave could tell that the boy was trying to hold in more tears.

‘See? Do you understand a bit better now?’ Monty’s eyes burned into Dave when he glanced up from staring at the boy. There was a flicker of something that Dave could almost interpret as happiness in Monty’s gaze. ‘You do, don’t you. You do!’

Dave was pretty certain he didn’t but he kept silent, swaying a little as he tried to think through his confusion and the pulse of his headache. It wasn’t really working though and the longer everything went on, the more blurry it started to get around the edges.

‘Fifty five years this has been my life,’ Monty continued, spittle flying with the intensity of his words. ‘Do you have any idea what that is like? All of this. Day after day after
fucking
day. The kids. The blood. This room and those things.’ Monty jutted a finger at the roiling whirlpool on the wall. ‘Do you know what that is like? No one. No, nononono no one should be forced to do the things I have to do. No one should have to see the things I see. It’s too much. Far, far, far, too much. It changes you. Look into my eyes. See that? That’s gatekeeper eyes. Eyes that have seen things that would melt your brain. Eyes that have seen the truth and know what to do.’

Dave stared at Monty for a second as the man nodded.

RUN!
his brain abruptly screamed at him but Dave had barely done any more than flinch and immediately Monty was in action, moving with a speed that belied his obvious age.

‘Uh uh.’ The blade flicked up to rest against the naked boy’s throat while Monty shifted his grip, grabbed hold of a hank of hair and yanked the boy’s head back, finally forcing a whimper from the trembling child.

Dave stopped dead in his tracks and held his hands up placatingly.

‘It’s not fair that I should have to do this.’ Monty’s voice briefly cracked and Dave realised that the man’s cheeks were wet with tears. ‘It’s not fairnotfairnotfairnotfair.’ He muttered away, his words dying out into a guttural murmur for a second. ‘It’s not fair that I should have to do this. All of you out there, you don't even know what I sacrifice. I've seen the way they look at me. They don't understand what I've done. What I do for them. Nononono they just barge in here and want to change everything. Never mind if there are reasons things are the way they are. Never mind that I've been out here alone ever since Klara died. Never mind that I've been standing between them and the destruction of everything they've EVER FUCKING KNOWN!' Monty's voice abruptly rose to a roar and Dave recoiled as spittle splattered his face. He almost took another step back before he abruptly remembered what graced the wall behind him.

When Monty continued his voice had dropped back to its usual level.

'Years now with no one to talk to. No one to confide in. Nothing but this slaughter...' Monty's words petered out while he shook his head side to side. 'But no more,' he whispered softly. 'No no no no no more. I can't do another one. I told them that. I told them I can't do another one but they wouldn't listen. Wouldn't send a replacement... You should do it.'

Dave's heart thumped once, heavily then his blood turned to ice water in his veins.

'Excuse me?' He was amazed how calm and polite his words came out. Inside he felt anything but.

'Yeah, I want you do it.' A revolting grin spread across Monty's face. Not least because of the hope it conveyed. 'I can't do it so you need to.'

The knife dropped away from the boy's throat though Monty still kept hold of the kid's hair, holding the head jerked back at the awkward angle. For a second Dave just didn't know what to do.

'Yeah, come on.' Monty flipped the knife and caught it by the blade before holding it out to Dave. 'You do it.'

Dave stood motionless. His brain only working in fits and spurts. Things were moving too quickly for him. It seemed like only five minutes ago he'd stood at his window in the Gallo's hotel, lighting up a cigarette. Yet now here he was standing in the middle of a strange room, surrounded by the corpses of a hundred children with a madman in front of him asking him to kill yet another one.

'No... No I... cannot...'

Monty waved the knife and the kid whimpered again. 'Come on now, hurry up. They're coming through.'

Monty gestured with his chin and Dave glanced behind him.

The whirling vortex on the wall now appeared to be bulging out, extending and tapering to a cone like point.

'What the fuck is that?' Dave got it out calmly the first time. 'WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!' A calm that didn't last as the cone bulged out further and further and the glinting in its centre appeared more frequently.

'That? Ha! What's that!' Monty barked a bitter laugh that went for just a little bit longer than was comfortable. 'That's an old debt that can never be repaid. A debt as old as man itself. Something that can never be repaid. That's what it is. And old debts require old magic to keep them in check. The oldest there is. The most powerful of all. Sealed in blood.'

'What?!'

'It's the only way to keep them out.'

'WHAT?!'

Monty's explanation didn't help any and Dave felt reality slipping away as he stared from the expanding cone to the shivering child to the glittering blade held out toward him.

Panic fizzled and popped adding an extra layer of confusion to Dave's already overloaded mind.

'It was never ours to begin with and they want it back,' Monty spat and Dave felt his body start to shiver uncontrollably.

What is that glinting?

The whirlpool was hypnotic. Before he'd even fully realised what he was doing, he'd taken a step toward it, drawn forward even though his brain screamed to run and run far.

'You don't want to get too close.' Monty told him. 'They're more powerful than you can possibly comprehend.' Then Monty's voice trailed away again into muttering while Dave obediently halted and stared. His gut roiled and churned even worse than the whirlpool on the wall. 'They'll destroy everything. Everything and I can't stop them. Not this time. No no no no no, I can't stop them. I can't do another. You need to do it. You need to take this knife and cut the boy's throat.'

And for the briefest time, Dave thought,
Should I?

A second later it sickened him but he couldn't deny that the thought had crossed his mind.

What if Monty is telling the truth,
his mind flitted over the problem.
I mean there's the whopping great whirlpool in the middle of the wall. Something's coming through. What if Monty is telling the truth? Maybe I should–

What the hell are you thinking?
It was Naomi's voice that had cut through all the confusion that swirled in his brain. Cut right through in that same tone of voice she always used when he'd not paced himself the night before. When the drinks had gone down a little quicker than they should have and he'd pissed her off.

Dave's hand froze where it had been reaching for the knife and he locked eyes with the boy again while Monty continued to rabbit, 'Too much, too much, too much, I can't do another one...'

You cannot seriously tell me that you...
Naomi's voice didn't even have to finish the sentence before Dave decided. It was the boy's saucer like eyes. There was just no way he could ignore them.

It was the first time Dave had ever really punched somebody. The split second from thought to execution was riddled with doubt. Even as he put his entire body behind the swing, it felt horrendously uncoordinated and he could see his fist harmlessly grazing Monty's cheek. Or even worse, missing entirely, throwing him off balance and giving Monty more than enough time to go to work with his blade.

It took him completely by surprise when pain exploded up his arm and he realised he'd connected.

Boy, had he connected. Monty's head snapped up and back, giving Dave a flash of the whites as his eyes rolled back in his skull and the knife slipped from his grip. It clattered to the ground just as Monty toppled back, emitting a noise that sounded like a half sigh- half raspberry and his grip on the boy slipped.

Agony coursed up his forearm. Dave was already shaking his hand as Monty splatted wetly into a nearby stack of bodies that crumpled wetly beneath him. Squishing and squirting. A noxious odour, somehow even more foul than the one that already permeated the air, flooded Dave's nostrils. It made him gag horribly and as the kid finally found its voice and started bawling long and loud, Dave could do nothing to comfort him.

He could only stagger forward, one hand outstretched, the other cupped protectively to his chest, gagging as he tried to hold in a scream.

It was no wonder that the cops reacted the way they did when they kicked in the door a second later. Dave knew he must have looked horrendous. His face all twisted as he reached forward for the kid. He really didn't blame the cops for what they did.

After the first one through recoiled, hand to his mouth, eyes wide with shock, the second headed straight for Dave. He hit him and the wind whooshed out of his lungs as he went down hard, flat on his back on the sticky cobblestones with the cop hissing away in his ear, 'Just stay down, just fucking stay down.' His voice gradually going more and more hysterical as he took in his surroundings. The mounded bodies and the shivering naked kid screaming in the middle of the room.

Dave didn't resist, just lay there trying to get his breath back while the cop flipped him and went about slapping on some cuffs, relief washing through him when he saw that the cone seemed to have receded into the wall again.

It made it much easier when he looked across to where Monty writhed slowly into the muck of the ruined bodies he'd crashed into. Much easier to just write the old man off as a madman and tell himself he'd done the right thing while the cop above him ground his face into the filthy blue stones.