High Moor 2: Moonstruck (10 page)

He was not comfortable with returning to the hospital. Too many people had seen them last time. He was certain that the police officer guarding Wilkinson would have been briefed on the two men and the red−haired woman who visited Marie before her disappearance. It would have made more sense for someone from Oskar’s team to take care of Wilkinson, while he and Gregorz joined the assault mission against Simpson. Oskar could show flashes of pure inspiration when planning attacks, but all too often his arrogance meant that he sometimes made bad decisions. As far as Daniel was concerned, this was one such instance.

He checked his watch. Gregorz had been inside the building for over an hour, posing as a hospital porter, and the lack of subsequent communication was making him nervous. The moon would rise soon and he could already feel its effects. He could smell the traces of cigarette smoke in the upholstery of the vehicle and make out fragments of conversations from the people standing in the hospital foyer. His limbs buzzed with power, while at the back of his mind he could feel his beast’s desire to run, hunt and kill.

It was a mistake to leave the assault so late. Wilkinson was comatose and crippled. Helpless. When the moon came up and he transformed for the first time, all of that would change. His wounds would be healed, and they would have to deal with a newborn, moonstruck werewolf in a crowded hospital full of CCTV cameras. Again, it had been at Oskar’s insistence that they delay the assault until the last possible moment. He feared that Wilkinson’s death, if discovered too soon, might jeopardize their attack on Simpson. Gregorz had argued with Oskar for over an hour but had eventually relented when Oskar had called Michael and asked for him to make a ruling.

His phone vibrated on the dashboard and he snatched it up to check the message. One word. Restaurant.

A grim smile played across his lips. “Finally.” He reached across and picked up the black canvas bag from the passenger seat, then stepped out of the car and made his way towards the main entrance of the hospital.

The foyer bustled with activity and people queued three−deep at the receptionist’s desk. Daniel made his way through the crowds and veered off to the left, taking the staircase to the second floor where the restaurant was located. Gregorz sat in the far corner of the room, with his back to the rest of the patrons. Daniel bought a coffee from the vending machine and threaded his way through the room, sitting on a table adjacent to his team leader.

He took a sip from his cup and grimaced, then put it down on the table and leaned back on the plastic chair. “I was beginning to worry about you, Gregorz. How are things looking?”

“It’s as we suspected. Wilkinson is in a private room, with a single police officer stationed outside. None of the cameras have a direct line of sight to the doorway, but there is one at each end of the hallway, and there is a nurse’s station almost directly opposite the room.”

“I take it you have a plan to distract the nurses and policeman?”

Gregorz took a drink from his cup and nodded. “I think a more constrained version of Connie’s plan will be the most effective.”

“So you are not intending to burn the hospital down? She will be disappointed.”

“I think a small, easily contained fire may serve our purposes better. We should be able to get to Wilkinson and deal with him in the initial confusion.” He nodded to the bag at Daniel’s feet. “You have everything?”

“Yes. We have some silenced nine millimetres and I made up the solution before I left the hotel. I have to say, though, just handling it makes me nervous. I almost wish that we could deal with Wilkinson in a cleaner way than injecting him with that foul substance.”

“Just remember who you are dealing with. Wilkinson has slaughtered our kind for decades, without any mercy. Connie’s daughter was only eight years old, and it didn’t stop the bastard from shooting her in the face. Silver particles suspended in acid is almost too good for him. If it were up to me, I’d simply lock him in a room with Connie for a few days and leave the manner of his demise up to her. Unfortunately, that is not my decision to make.”

Daniel checked his watch, and reluctantly took another drink from the plastic cup. “We have less than an hour before moonrise. When do we make our move?”

“We wait for Oskar’s signal. Once he’s sure that they have Simpson where they want him, we can take care of our mission.”

“Well, then let’s hope that Oskar doesn’t take too long.”

***

12th December 2008
.
Seven Bells Hotel, Durham City. 16.25.

Connie paced back and forth, then stopped by the door to the room and put her hands on her hips. “Can ye not get a bloody move on? The moon will be up in an hour, and ah don’t want ye changing in the fucking car.”

Marie picked up a towel from beside the sink and dried her wet hair, leaving dark streaks of dye across the white fabric. She was as keen to get out of the hotel room as Connie was. After spending almost a month inside it, with only Connie’s sparkling company and daytime TV to distract her, she felt more than a little claustrophobic in the cramped surroundings. “I’ll just be a second. Just need to get this eyeliner on and I’m good to go.”

A sneer played across Connie’s face. “Do ye not think yer a bit old to pull off the goth girlie look? Ye’d have been better off going for ‘middle−aged mum’. Ye’ve already got the arse for it.”

Marie gave Connie the finger and applied thick strokes of eye make−up to her face, giving her eyes a sunken appearance. Satisfied, she put down the eye−liner and picked up her jacket from the hanger. “OK, all done. Let’s get this over with.”

“About fucking time. The car’s parked across the street, and before ye ask, Ah’m driving.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

The two women stepped out of the room into the hotel’s dingy corridor and walked to the staircase, descending to the ground level. Marie was about to open the door into the foyer when Connie put her hand on her arm and shook her head. When Marie looked confused, Connie whispered. “Coppers. Outside. Ah can smell the bastards. Ye wait here and ah’ll see what’s going on.”

Connie stepped through the fire door, into the reception area, while Marie stood against the wall and peered through the glass. As Connie had said, there were three uniformed police officers standing at the reception desk, along with a blonde woman in a business suit. They turned to Connie as she walked through the door, and the woman stepped forward to offer her hand.

“Miss Hamilton? Or is it Mrs? I’m afraid that it doesn’t say which on your registration form.”

Connie spoke with a calm tone, all traces of her accent gone.”Yes? Can I help you? Is something the matter?”

The blonde woman smiled and shook her head. “No, nothing to worry about. I was just wondering if you would mind if I asked you a few questions?”

“Of course. I don’t mind, but right now isn’t very convenient. I’m supposed to be meeting someone and I don’t want to be late. Could we arrange something for Monday, perhaps? I’d be happy to come down to your station and have a chat at, say, 2pm?”

The blonde woman nodded and smiled again. “It really wouldn’t take very long. I just need to establish your whereabouts on the fifteenth of November, at around five thirty in the evening.”

Connie shook her head. “I’m sorry, but without checking my schedule I’m afraid I really couldn’t say. Things have been so busy that the days just seem to run together. Look, I really hate to rush, but can we do this later. I have a rather pressing appointment, and I don’t want to keep my client waiting. Can we do this on Monday?”

“Of course, I’m sorry to have kept you. I’ll be at High Moor station on Monday afternoon. Just come to reception and ask for DC Garner. Olivia Garner.”

Connie nodded and shook her hand. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll check my diary and let you know what I was up to when I see you.”

Marie stepped away from the door and made her way to the end of the corridor, then slipped out of the emergency exit into the dark alley beside the hotel. She stood in the shadows, watching as Connie left the hotel and walked along the road towards the city centre. The police officers stood by the doorway for a moment, speaking in low voices as they watched Connie glide through the crowded streets. The uniformed officers got into a police car and drove away, while the woman pulled up the collar of her coat and hurried after Connie. A few minutes later, Connie clambered over a stone wall at the rear of the car park. “Bastards have made us. Oskar and his crew better finish the job tonight, because it’s time for us to get the hell out of this shit−hole.” She started to walk across the road, to where her rented car was parked, then turned back to Marie. “Well, are ye coming, or do ye just fancy changing in the middle of the fucking town centre?”

Chapter 6

12th December 2008
.
University Hospital of Durham. 17.35.

The first thing that Steven noticed was the noise. Far away and indistinct, but insistent. It tugged on the threads of his awareness and punctured the peace of the darkness in which he floated. The next thing he noticed was the pain. A hot glow that started from the smallest coal in the centre of his back, growing in size and intensity until his body burned. It filled him, lighting up every nerve ending in a white blaze of agony. Fire crackled along his spine, fusing ruined bone and reconnecting the shredded nerves. He screamed, but the sound never left his lips. Instead, it reverberated inside of his mind, combining with the pain into waves of absolute torment. Consuming him. Burning away everything that he had ever been. Turning him into something else.

His eyes snapped open, and he gagged at the hard plastic pipe in his throat. His body was slick with sweat, soaking through the polyester pyjamas so the material stuck to his skin. An alarm rang outside: the air stank of death, even beneath the overpowering stench of disinfectant. He tore the ventilator tube from his swollen throat and, still disoriented, swung his legs off the bed and pulled the IV drips from his arm.

He was obviously in a hospital, but the reason eluded him. He tried to think through the drug−induced cloud in his mind, but all he saw were fragments. He remembered the school. He’d been doing something in a school with…

The memories surged back, memories of he and John Simpson sneaking into the school to confront the monster that had once been Malcolm Harrison. The short−lived battle, the terrible pain as the werewolf crushed his spine with its jaws. He looked down at his legs and wiggled his toes.

“Oh fucking hell. How long have I been here?” He stumbled to the window and pulled back the blinds. It was dark outside. The neon pinpricks of the city’s streetlights shining against a velvet background, while to the east the first sliver of the full moon rose above the cathedral.

“Oh no.”

His body began to spasm and he fell to the floor, dragging the ventilator with him. He tried to stand, to hold back the raging, alien presence in his mind. “God, no. Please. Not here.”

Bone daggers burst through his gums, filling his mouth with a bloody froth, while his jaw dislocated and the ends of his fingers split open in a spray of gore, to allow dark black talons to emerge. His skin itched and burned as hair burst from his pores and flowed across his body.

He was vaguely aware of the door to his room bursting open and two dark silhouettes standing in the doorway. Then the world turned red.

***

12th December 2008
.
Waldridge Fell Country Park. 17.35.

Marie removed her clothes and put them in the boot of the hire car. Connie’s were already in a crumpled heap next to the steel strongbox that held the team’s tactical kit. She stepped away from the vehicle and closed the boot, rubbing her arms to ward off the biting cold. Connie stood, stark naked, in the bushes that separated the car park from the open fell beyond. Clouds of condensation billowed from her body. She smirked at Marie’s discomfort.

“Are ye feeling the cold, petal? Ah thought your lot didn’t mind a wee chill. Get a bloody move on before some poor bastard catches a look at yer bare arse waddling across the car park.”

Marie jogged across the open tarmac to where the other woman stood. “Connie, I’m sure I’ve told you before, but please do me the favour of fucking off. I’m not in the mood for your shit.”

Connie puffed out her bottom lip. “Aw, pet. Are ye upset because Oskar and the others are putting yer little moonstruck boyfriend down? Ah bet he’s on his knees, begging for his life right this second.”

Marie shoved the other woman with both hands, sending her back a few steps. “I told you. Pack it the fuck in.”

Connie grinned and her eyes became two flat, green phosphorescent disks. “Ah, get over yerself. Ah’m just playing around. Come on, the moon will be up any second. Let’s get away from the road so we can change.”

Marie exhaled and nodded her acceptance. The two women made their way through the hedgerow into a small willow coppice bordering the moors. The ground was cold and wet under Marie’s bare feet. Twigs caught between her toes, and a patch of brambles left bright red scratches across her legs. Frost had begun to form on the open expanses of grassland. Each blade glimmered in the starlight and crunched under Marie’s feet. The lights of the city illuminated the sky to the south−east, while the first white glow of the new moon shone from the horizon.