Hungry Moon (24 page)

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Authors: Ramsey Campbell

Tags: #Druids and Druidism, #England, #Christian Ministry, #Science Fiction, #Horror, #Evangelistic Work, #General, #Fiction, #Religion, #Evangelism

BOOK: Hungry Moon
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His body tried to fall back, away from the evangelist, but he couldn't move, not even his numb hands at the ends of his unfamiliar arms. He was helpless in the white light that was streaming into him, not from the lamp but from Godwin himself. 'You're the first of my true followers,' Godwin said softly, opening his eyes at last. Deep in the white sockets, reptile eyes no larger than shirt buttons gazed into Brian's.

THIRTY EIGHT

 

Diana was on the plane to New York when the windows filled with white light and the passengers began to scream. She woke in the dark of her cottage in Moon-well, and in a way the dark was worse than the dream. By her watch it wasn't even time to get up. The dark pressed in silently all around her, and she couldn't help drifting away from that, back to New York to stroll in Central Park, where all at once something huge and pale appeared above the skyscrapers, laughing with vast, cruel delight. Then she didn't know where she was, just somewhere grey and desolate under a sun like a lump of ash. People were dancing in a ring as wide as the horizon, but when she approached them she saw they had no heads. She woke feeling that it could be anywhere - could soon be anywhere, if she didn't stop it. Perhaps the dreams were meant to show her how she could.

She tried to relax as she'd learned to do at yoga. She sensed dreams waiting just beyond the edge of her conscious mind, waiting to lead her away, presumably back to the vision she'd glimpsed on the moor. Or might she be led physically up there? So long as she had time to grab a flashlight, she thought, already feeling more nervous. She couldn't relax while there were things she ought to learn. Surely it was time to go to the police station, she thought, having realized that her watch had stopped. At least that was something to do. At least she wouldn't feel she was waiting for Mann to find her in the dark.

She washed and dressed and made herself a meagre breakfast, feeling as if she were performing rituals whose meanings were almost forgotten, more irrelevant every time she repeated them. On the wall of the front room, Sally's and Jane's pictures were drooping. She fixed them back up and made for the High Street, and wondered why all the shops were shut, until she heard the singing at the church. As she crossed the square, she saw a whitish glow beyond the curtains of Mann's room at the hotel. The curtains looked like clouds over a full moon, she thought uneasily, and hurried to the police station beyond the square.

The policeman with a face like an old maid's except for the silvery moustache was behind the counter, frowning at Craig and Vera. 'You don't mean to tell me we can't leave Moonwell,' Craig was saying.

'Just until we've ascertained precisely what the conditions are, sir. You must understand it's for your own safety.'

Vera turned as Diana came in. 'They won't let us go home,' she complained.

'Maybe it's for the best,' Diana said, and reached for the bell push on the counter. The policeman glared at her. 'Just wait, please,' he snapped.

'You aren't on your own, are you?' Her sympathy turned to dread. "They didn't come back.'

'Who?' Vera demanded.

'It's entirely possible that my officers decided the best course was to abandon the car and continue on foot. The electrical conditions out there may have caused engine failure - they certainly cut off our radio contact. Perhaps now you'll understand why I'd like you to delay your journey, Mr and Mrs Wilde. The mountain rescue team have enough people to search for.'

His rapid speech must be intended to convey an impression of efficiency, but to Diana it sounded defensive. 'How many police were there in the car?'

'Two in the first.' Suddenly he turned on her. 'For reasons of your own, Miss Kramer, you seem to have set out to undermine people's faith. If you've none of your own that is your lack, but I warn you officially now that under the present conditions your behaviour may be seen as likely to lead to a breach of the peace. Now, what can I do for you?'

What peace? she wanted to shout at him. It wasn't peace, it was apathy, lack of awareness, a refusal to look. 'Did you find Father O'Connell's dog?' she said, having learned everything else she'd come to learn.

'I fear not. I suspect it's far away by now. If you're worried, I should keep inside your house.' He swung away from her. 'I'll make sure you know as soon as the roads are declared safe, Mr Wilde. I take it you'll still be at the hotel.'

Outside, Vera said, T don't want to stay at the hotel.'

'I really don't see what alternative we have.'

'Something about the hotel you don't like?' Diana suggested.

'Just the feel of it up there on the top floor. It's too cold, for one thing,' Vera said resentfully. 'I don't expect luxury in a place like this, but it's like being down a cave.'

'You could stay at my place,' Diana blurted.

'That's most kind of you, Diana.' Vera came forward impulsively and kissed her on the cheek. 'Would you mind if we let you know? Our daughter lives in town, you see. Perhaps her lodgers could have our room at the hotel.'

'Presumably another police car went looking for the first,' Craig said, to carry them past the awkwardness. 'Not the most intelligent response.'

'I'm sure they're doing what they think is best,' Diana said, already regretting having invited the Wildes to stay. She was taking on more and more responsibilities, yet they felt like a substitute for the real thing. Deep down she knew that if she was ever to do what she felt capable of doing, she would need to be utterly alone.

THIRTY NINE

 

'God see you safely home,' Miss Ingham said, and Andrew began to pray harder, inside his head. He was praying that his parents were somewhere safe and well lit. It must be the light that was keeping the things out of Moonwell, the things he'd seen crawling up the cave, the evil things that had lived down there until Mr Mann had taken God to them. Now they were crawling out like maggots out of a dead bird, and Andrew couldn't understand why God hadn't killed them all down there.

Maybe they weren't coming. Maybe they had to stay down there until it killed them, now that it was a holy place. Surely God wouldn't let them come down to the houses. Yet when Andrew thought of some of the things God let happen in the world, things that were nobody's fault except God's, he didn't feel sure at all.

The other children were flocking out of the classroom as if the dark was nothing to be afraid of, grumbling or fighting when Miss Ingham wasn't looking, behaving worse than they used to before it got so dark. They wouldn't believe what he'd seen at the cave. He wished he could tell Miss Kramer, but just today in the assembly hall Mr Scragg had said that nobody was to speak to her, because she didn't believe in God; she was only staying in Moonwell to try and turn people away from Him. Andrew still liked her, but there was no chance he'd be able to talk to her now. All he could do was talk to God and hope that God was listening, except that God must have zillions of people more important than Andrew to listen to, and why should He listen to Andrew when nobody else did? Andrew prayed a last prayer and stumbled to his feet, and realized that Miss Ingham was staring beyond him, at the classroom door. His heart was jumping painfully before he turned and saw his father.

His father stepped forward, beaming. Under the fluorescent lighting his pale face looked almost white, except for the shadows under his eyes. His cheeks seemed hairier than ever, his chin was sticking out so far he reminded Andrew of a cartoon. It was as though he were trying to look more like himself, Andrew thought, as his father gripped his shoulder. 'Come on, son, we've a special surprise for you.'

'You'll be taking Andrew home, will you, Mr Bevan?'

"That I will, Letty. No objection, I suppose, seeing as he's my son?' He was still beaming, showing all his teeth. 'We'll see you later.'

'Miss Ingham took us to church today,' Andrew interrupted. 'There were lots of people.'

'Have a good time, did you?'

'Of course we did, Mr Bevan. There's nothing that's more fun than praising God.'

'Just you wait, Andrew. Someone very special wants to see you.' His hand tugged at Andrew's shoulder, turning him. 'Going to church, that's nothing.'

Miss Ingham smiled at him, but her eyes looked hurt. 'May I know?'

'Well, I wanted it to be a surprise for the boy. He hasn't much excitement in his life.' He leaned past Andrew and whispered, 'Godwin Mann.'

Miss Ingham's face brightened. 'Wants to see Andrew?'

'Wants to see a good boy, and I don't know any better.'

'Neither do I. You go with your father, Andrew. You'll be glad you did.'

Andrew thought he might be. He could ask Mr Mann what God was going to do about the dark and the things in the cave. If anyone could stop him being frightened, surely Mr Mann could, particularly since going to see him seemed to have cheered up his father; Andrew had never seen his father so bright. He was suddenly so eager that he followed his father as far as the schoolyard before remembering that he would have to go into the dark. 'Take my hand, son,' his father said.

Andrew grabbed his hand and stepped into the yard. They passed through the light of the first streetlamp, and beyond it his father gripped his hand more tightly. He didn't need to hold on to Andrew quite so hard, but perhaps he'd forgotten how strong he was, or perhaps it was his way of showing he loved Andrew. They hurried past a line of lit shops that made Andrew think of tanks in an aquarium, and he bit his lip. His father's hand was tightening on his every time they stepped out of the light, tightening so much it didn't feel comforting. All at once he wondered if his father were holding his hand not to reassure Andrew but to try to reassure himself.

Andrew peered nervously at his father's face as it came out of the dark. His father was still smiling, baring his teeth, which the streetlamp made gleam. Could he be smiling so that Andrew wouldn't see how he really felt? Andrew tightened his own grip, to tell his father not to be afraid. They were going to see Mr Mann, and then they wouldn't need to be.

As they came in sight of the hotel, Andrew's father raised his head. He was gazing at the brightest of the windows under the steep roof. It must be Mr Mann's room, Andrew realized, a beacon in the dark. His father was beaming so hard that Andrew could see his gums; his mouth looked like a dog's, all teeth. They were both so intent on the window as they almost ran across the square that they didn't notice Andrew's mother until she stepped in front of them.

She stared at Andrew's father as she often stared at Andrew. 'Where have you been?'

'I told you where I was going.'

'You aren't telling me you've been with Godwin all day.'

'You don't notice time passing when you're with him.'

'I had to ask Katy to look after the shop,' she complained, and frowned at Andrew. 'Where's Miss Ingham? Where were you going with the boy?'

His father hugged him. 'We're going to see Godwin, aren't we, son? That'll show anyone who thinks you're not as good as their kids. We'll give them something to think about.'

'He's going to see nobody while he's looking like that. Have some thought for me if you've none for yourself. Do you want Godwin to think we can't even keep him clean? Cleanliness is next to godliness, my father always said.'

Andrew was trying not to pull away from his father just because his father's smell had changed. It must be something his father had handled in the shop that gave him a cold, stony smell. 'Godwin won't mind,' his father said, hugging him.

'He mightn't, but I do. Do you want us to be the talk of the town? Just you come with me this minute,' she said, and Andrew didn't know if she was speaking like that to him or to his father. Couldn't his father wash his face in the hotel? But then she demanded, 'Anyway, what does Godwin want with him?'

Andrew almost cried out, almost pulled his hand away from his father's. She'd halted under a streetlamp, leaving him and his father outside the sanctuary of light. He was scared of the dark, that was all, and troubled by the smell that made him think of the reptile house at the zoo. His father's hand couldn't really feel as it seemed to. 'I couldn't tell you,' his father said.

'Well, he won't be going until I know. And if he does I want to be there to make sure he's on his best behaviour.'

She turned her back on them as if they could only follow. They stepped through the light of the streetlamp, and the shadow of Andrew's father reached for her. It couldn't hurt her, Andrew told himself, any more than his father would. He clenched his hand on his father's as if that would make it feel as it ought to. He was just being silly, the way his parents said he was. He was too big to be scared of things that weren't true, especially when there was so much to be scared of that was.

His mother swung around again as his father's shadow shrank away from the next lamp. "The Booths are back in town, as if they didn't know where they're not wanted. Don't you dare go near them, Andrew.'

'I promise.' He wouldn't have time to see Geraldine and Jeremy, not while he was looking after his father. He tugged his father toward the shop. He was praying that his father would be better once they were out of the dark, but if something was still wrong with him - if the demon from the cave could still influence him - then

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