Hungry Moon (35 page)

^{Suddenly he knew that his father had wanted him to stay at home so that he wouldn't see what was happening now. He was pitifully glad of the dark: at least he wouldn't be able to see. Then he became aware that his father was glimmering with a maggoty sheen that clung to his tortured face and his hands and his body where it showed through the rents in his clothes. The door slammed, and what had been his father leaped.}

^{FIFTY SEVEN}

^{Just as the knocking at the front door began, Nick thought Diana was about to waken. She'd been lying on the postman's bed ever since Eustace had ushered him up and then withdrawn awkwardly, murmuring, 'I expect you two would like to be alone, but if you need anything I'll be downstairs.' He was assuming there was more to the relationship than in fact there was, Nick thought, wishing that Eustace were right, for Diana's sake: at least then he could remind her of experiences they'd shared, use them to try to recall her from wherever she was. He stroked her long black hair back from her clammy forehead and kept repeating her name. If it hadn't been for planning to drive her to the hospital at first light, he wouldn't have known what he was doing in Moonwell.}

^{When he realized he was straining his eyes in order to make out her face, he went nervously to the window. The moon was out of sight beyond the moor, though a glassy pallor lingered in the sky. He found his way quickly back to his chair by the bed. Would it just be dark once the moon went down, or would there be worse to cope with? He made for the bathroom while he could still see dimly, then hurried back to his vigil.}

^{He gazed at the glimmer of her face and her long legs; then he sat forward and found her hand, which was limp and cool. He was tempted to lie beside her in the gathering dark, but that seemed too much like taking advantage of her, too close to taking that risk. 'I wish we'd gone to bed together while we had the chance,' he murmured, and her hand closed over his.}

^{For a moment he thought she'd heard him. Affection and desire for her blazed through him, and suddenly he wasn't shivering. He leaned forward to lift her to him. But her grip tightened, bruising his hand, and he realized she was trying to waken, her head twisting back and forth on the pillow. 'Diana, you're only dreaming,' he said loudly. 'Wake up, I'm here, Nick Reid.' Her head jerked up as if she'd heard a sound outside, her nails dug into the back of his hand, and someone slammed the knocker against the front door.}

^{She couldn't have heard or sensed whoever was there, Nick told himself, yet he felt as if she had. He held his breath and stiffened his body to keep it still as Eustace hurried to the front door. When he heard a child's voice, he relaxed a little, until he heard what the child was saying. 'Don't worry,' Nick murmured, stroking Diana's hand as her head craned blindly. 'I won't let anyone take you to Godwin Mann.'}

^{When a man's voice joined the child's, Nick tried to pull free of Diana's grip, but she clung to him as if he were her only chance of awakening. 'No it isn't,' he shouted, for the man's voice had suggested that the evangelist was what she needed. 'Anything but. It's the last thing she'd want, Eustace.'}

^{Diana's other hand grabbed his. When he squinted at her face, he was just able to distinguish that her eyes were still closed, though the lids might be flickering. 'Shut the door, Eustace,' he murmured urgently, and a moment later the door slammed. 'So much for your saviours,' he said to Diana. Then something rammed the front door.}

^{The impact made the cottage shudder. More than one of the evangelist's followers must be trying to break down the door and carry Diana away. Why was the child screaming? Nick pried Diana's hands loose from his as gently as he could. 'I'm not going far,' he whispered, and almost couldn't leave her, she was craning toward him so blindly and, it seemed, helplessly. The floor vibrated under his feet as the front door shook again, and he groped hastily across the room. He had just reached the top of the stairs when the front door crashed open.}

^{Eustace must have been trying to hold it shut. He was flung backward, his shoulders thumping the wall with a sound like a side of meat thrown on a slab. He lurched forward, with pain or to block the path of the intruders. Then Nick saw him falter and retreat, almost falling, as a shape came at him through the doorway.}

^{From where Nick stood, it looked almost like a man, except that it was shining with a faint whitish glow like decay. It darted at Eustace and seized him with its long pale hands, lifted him struggling above its head and hurled him aside, into the front room. There was the sound of furniture breaking, the thud of Eustace's body, a groan that petered out. Then the shape raised its glowing face, of which Nick could see only the bulging eyes and bared teeth, and caught sight of Nick.}

^{As Nick stood clutching the banister at the top of the stairs, his body crippled by a loathing so intense he couldn't move, a boy appeared in the doorway. Only the glow of the shape in the hall made him visible. 'Miss Kramer, watch out,' he cried in a voice that sounded more like a sick old man's than a child's. 'It isn't my daddy, it's a monster.' Then he turned and fled sobbing into the dark, and the shape in the hall began to climb the stairs.}

^{Nick tried to shove himself away from the banister, but he felt as if his hands had merged with the wood. He could only watch as the shape climbed toward him, its arms dangling so that it was almost on all fours, the rotten light of its face thrust forward as though probing the dark for him. The grin seemed almost to be bursting through the flesh, dragging the face into a new and inhuman shape. The eyes looked more like blobs of rot than eyes, and whatever was glaring out of them was certainly no longer human. Nick had a sudden sickened notion that perhaps they couldn't see at all. Perhaps that was why the face was poking forward, searching for the sound or smell of him.}

^{Revulsion shuddered through him, up into his throat, and all at once he could move. He threw himself back from the stairs and stumbled across the landing to Eustace's room, trying frantically to think what was in there that he might use to defend Diana. He halted just inside the room and peered about, hardly even able to distinguish the furniture, and then he realized that Diana was no longer on the bed.}

^{'Christ, no,' he moaned. He could hear stairs creaking, closer and closer; a reptilian stench made his throat writhe. He twisted round to dodge across the landing, to look for Diana in the other rooms, but there she was beside him in the dark, just inside the doorway. It was so dark there that at first he hadn't noticed her, but now he could just see her - because of the glow that was seeping into the room, the pale glow of the thing that had reached the top of the stairs.}

^{Diana's eyes were still closed, but now that she was on her feet she seemed calmer: because she couldn't see what was coming, he thought - God help them both. He slammed the door in its face, if it still had a face, and tried to guide Diana toward the window. She wouldn't budge. Nor could he lift her, perhaps because the horror of what he'd seen had sapped his strength. He ran to the window and dragged the sash up, only to see that it would be no use: even if he managed to lift her and jump, they would fall on the rockery or on the stone path - they would certainly be injured when the thing in the cottage came for them. He was hanging on to the sash as if it were a weapon, and then he wondered if it might provide one. He pulled off his jacket and wadded it around his fist, and punched the glass of the window as hard as he could.}

^{The glass didn't even splinter. He stumbled back a few paces and lunged at the window, driving his fist into it. The sash jumped in its grooves, the sash weights rattled on their cords inside the frame, but the glass only vibrated. He could see it vibrating because it held a reflection of the seeping light that outlined the door. He was peering desperately about for a means to smash the glass when the room brightened. The door was opening.}

^{He reached Diana just as it swung wide. All he could do now was drag her out of the way, place himself between her and the thing, lure it away from her by making it pursue him - but all his strength couldn't move her an inch. She stood there as calm as stone when the thing came into the room.}

^{Before Nick could even step into its path, one long hand seized him. Fingers colder than a corpse's closed around his body, and his flesh shrank away in revulsion, seemed to wither from the touch. The stretched mouth bared its teeth, the white eyes bulged further, and then he was hurled across the room, against the wall beside the window.}

^{Nick managed to fling up an arm between his head and the wall. The impact still wrenched his neck, hammered agony into his skull. When he tried to push himself to his feet, the room seemed almost to turn over. He could only sway in a crouch and try to regain control of his body while the long hands reached for Diana - and then she stretched out her hands toward them. 'Brian Bevan,' she said, as gently as if she were addressing a child.}

^{She still had her eyes shut, Nick saw dizzily. She couldn't see the shape in front of her; Nick could scarcely bear to look at it himself now that it was reaching for her not only with its hands but, snail-like, with its eyes. But something stopped the hands a few inches short of her, perhaps her voice. 'You went to him, didn't you,' she murmured. 'What did he promise you? That he'd chosen you to be like him? You poor thing, all he wants is to make us suffer until he's tired of that and ready to do his worst.'}

^{Perhaps the thing understood, or perhaps it was the tone of her voice it responded to, but the long hands had given up reaching for her, the grinning head drooped. Nick found the sight of its defeat almost as horrible as its touch, especially the withdrawal of the eyes into the head. 'That's it, fight him, don't let him change you,' Diana whispered more urgently. 'You're still Brian Bevan, still Andrew's father. Where is he? Where's your son?'}

^{The head rose at the mention of the boy's name. All at once the face looked human, except for the rotten glow and the agonized grin that thrust between the lips. Then the thing spoke in a human voice, and Nick found that worst of all. 'Andrew, come back. It's me, it's your father,' it pleaded, and went loping, disconcertingly fast, toward the window.}

^{Nick grabbed the sill, hauled himself aside. The shape crashed through the window and fell in the midst of a shower of glass. Except for the glow, it looked like a man now, and perhaps that was why its leap failed. Its head struck the path with a sound so fragile that Nick's stomach writhed. As the body twitched into stillness, the glow faded.}

^{Nick couldn't look away from where it had fallen, even when it was quite dark, and so he didn't notice at first that Diana had come to stand beside him. At least his dizziness had given way to a vicious headache, and he no longer felt in danger of collapsing. Peering at Diana, he made out that she was gazing at him, rather sadly. How long had her eyes been open? Had she seen what she was talking to? He couldn't help feeling nervous of her, unsure whether he should touch her. 'Diana,' he said, so low he might not have wanted an answer, 'what in God's name is going on?'}

^{'I told you, Nick, the thing Mann stirred up. Only I know all about it now.'}

^{'How do you know?'}

^{The sharpness of his question made her face grow sadder. 'Don't be afraid of me, Nick, there's enough to fear without that. I had a vision while they were keeping me prisoner. Not having eaten for so long must have helped. Maybe someone had to know, to be able to do something, but it isn't easy for me. I hardly know myself anymore.'}

^{'You still seem like Diana to me,' Nick said awkwardly, and managed to take her hand, which was trembling. 'I'm glad you do. So what do you know? What are we up against?'}

^{'Everything we've been afraid of since we lived in caves, maybe since before we were even human. Everything we tried to believe we weren't afraid of any longer. It's just been enjoying its revenge so far, you see, but I think it's getting tired of that now, and when it does it'll stop playing with us.' Her trembling stilled as she stiffened, remembering. 'I don't know if I can head it off, but I have to try.'}

^{'You can count on me -1 mean, I hope you want to.' When she gripped his hand to tell him so, he said, 'First we have to see to Eustace. He's downstairs. That thing attacked him.' Now he had to ask what she'd meant, and}

^{he knew he would have to believe her: there was no scepticism left in him, only a raw, vulnerable hollowness where it had been. 'You talk about heading it off,' he said reluctantly as they made their way to the stairs, 'and while you were in your trance you kept saying you had to get somewhere first. Where, Diana? What have we got to prevent?'}

^{'I should have realized sooner. I was as blind as everyone else.' She sounded suddenly as unwilling to speak as he was to hear. 'I just wonder how much it was able to influence events before it came into the open. It seems too much of a coincidence that there's the means for it to destroy us all and feast on our souls within easy reach, or is that just the way the world is now?' She took a breath, and then she said, 'It's going for th6 missile base.'}

^{FIFTY EIGHT}

^{Eustace was giving the performance of his life for the best audience he'd ever had. He didn't need to be able to see them out there beyond the lit stage, he could hear their roars of laughter at everything he did. He had to struggle to keep his own face straight; a comedian shouldn't laugh at his own jokes. Now someone was calling to him from the unseen wings to make way for the next act, but Eustace wasn't about to leave the show while he was giving the audience what they wanted: he might never have another chance like this. When he opened his mouth and stepped toward the audience, they roared louder, and suddenly he saw steps leading down toward them, into the dim aisle. He stepped between the footlights, away from the voice that was calling his name.}

^{The audience cheered him on. He could see their wide smiles in the dimness everywhere he looked. He strode along the aisle, joking about them and their glinting teeth, and they threw back their laughing heads as if that could make their smiles even wider. Would the aisle never end? He didn't care: he could keep up his performance as long as they wanted him to, as he strode over the carpet that felt soft as moss, sloping downward now. All he had to do in order to stay out here was ignore the distant voice that was calling his name. When he glanced back, the lit stage was no bigger than the patch of light beneath a streetlamp.}

^{He'd gone too far to turn back. On either side of him, as far as he could see, pairs of hands were starting up, clapping above the heads, an oddly soft sound that reached into the deeper dark. They were urging him onward, downward, because he still had to face the most demanding audience of all. It was eager for everything he could give, and more. It was hungry for him, body and soul.}

^{He didn't want to go down there, not when he heard its laughter. Now that it was too late, he could hear it clearly, the glee of the lord of the dark, its laughter that was somehow coming from the uncountable mouths all around him. The laughter blotted out the voice that was calling his name. The audience crowded into the aisle, grinning facelessly. 'Don't let me die yet,' Eustace pleaded with the distant voice. 'If I've got to die, don't let it be here, anywhere but here.' But the distant light had gone out; there was only darkness full of laughter that gnawed at him, withered him. Hands seized him, dragged him into the dark.}

^{He struggled and lashed out with his fists, and then his arms were pinned against his body. He strained his eyes, desperate to see what had caught him and thrown him on his back. He jerked his head from side to side, though it felt like a bruise bigger than his skull. 'Don't say I'm blind,' he moaned.}

^{'You aren't, Eustace.' It was the voice that had been calling him. 'It's just the dark. You're at home. We brought Diana here, remember? I'm Nick Reid.'}

^{Eustace remembered altogether too quickly and completely. The darkness seemed to rush at him. 'What happened to Brian Bevan?' he whispered.}

^{'He's dead, Eustace. Killed himself.'}

^{That wasn't all Eustace had been asking, but perhaps it was all he wanted to know. 'Did he hurt Diana?' he asked, sitting up on what he realized was the couch in the front room.}

^{'No, she's fine.' Nick's voice turned away then. 'Is that you, Diana? We're still in here. Did you find Andrew?'}

^{'He wouldn't answer.' Diana sounded miserable as she talked her way to them. 'I just hope he found his mother before it got as dark as this. I'd still be out there looking for him if I weren't afraid of being overheard.'}

^{'Why should you be?' Eustace demanded.}

^{'Oh, Eustace, you're all right. Thank God for that, anyway. You must have hit the couch when -' She went on quickly. 'Just about anyone in town is liable to turn on any of us. I don't think they'll be able to pretend much longer that nothing is wrong. They're going to want scapegoats for what's happening, and that means unbelievers.'}

^{'Then we should get out of town. I've a flashlight upstairs, if it still works.'}

^{'That won't get us far, Eustace. What we need to do until it's light again is hide somewhere they won't think to look for us when they come hunting scapegoats.'}

^{'I'd like to have the flashlight, all the same.' Eustace staggered to his feet, and was glad when Nick supported him. 'I'll be all right,' he said after a while. 'No point in us tripping up one another all over the house.'}

^{He climbed the stairs, a hand on each banister. The flashlight he kept in the bedside drawer didn't work. It had been failing when he'd had to make his rounds in a bad fog several months ago, and he could tell the batteries had leaked. Was he hearing distant laughter? He made quickly for the stairs, his skin crawling. All the way down he felt as if he were back on the sloping aisle in his dream.}

^{'We're here, Eustace, wailing for you in the hall.' Diana put her arm round both men and whispered, 'I think we need to say as little as possible now and keep our voices down, okay? I don't know how much you know about what's happening, Eustace, but I guess you realize this is what Mann stirred up. As soon as it's light, we have to try and get to the missile base before it does.'}

^{'My God, you think -'}

^{She put a hand over his mouth. 'I know.'}

^{He didn't think he would be able to keep quiet for long. Talking seemed the only way to fend off the strength of die dark, the thoughts of what might be closing in unseen. 'There's nowhere to hide but Harry Moony hears where,' he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.}

^{'But it could be too busy elsewhere to notice us. If we don't get away nobody will. There's one place we might be safe,' she said, and put her lips against his ear, then Nick's, and stopped their mouths. 'The church,' she whispered.}

^{The glow from the hotel, where a crowd was murmuring, whitened the rooftops and left the street dark. As Eustace's eyes adjusted, he saw a man's body lying twisted on the garden path. The smashed head looked too large, not only because of the stain in which it lay face down. As he turned away choking, Diana murmured, 'It's Brian Bevan. We can't do anything for him.' All the same, she stooped to take hold of the shoulders of the corpse, and when she glanced at Eustace for agreement the men helped carry the corpse into the house, to the couch. Eustace swallowed and swallowed and tried to hold his breath until they were outside.}

^{The lane was deserted, and so was the High Street. The townsfolk must be clustering around the light again, but this time they weren't giving thanks; he didn't care to wonder what they might decide to do instead. He and Nick and Diana tiptoed quickly along the High Street, away from the hotel, until the road curved, leaving them in total darkness.}

^{'It's all right,' Eustace whispered. 'This is what I'm here for.' But it wasn't the same in the dark: he'd forgotten how uneven some of the paving stones were, how the kerbstones at the corners of side streets weren't quite aligned with each other. He was leading his companions in single file, Diana's hands about his waist as if in a blind ritual dance. His senses grew neurotically acute; he thought he smelled stale blood as he passed the butcher's. Once his hand, groping along the wall, plunged into an open doorway between shops, and he was terrified that something would touch his fingers in the dark. After that, every door felt like the entrance to a lair.}