The Devil in Green (59 page)

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Authors: Mark Chadbourn

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BOOK: The Devil in Green
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'A curry,' Mallory said. 'Balti, preferably.'

'Jerk pork.' Daniels pulled out a crossbow and handed it to Miller. 'Let's
see if all that training paid off.' He handed other crossbows to Mallory and
Gardener.

'Won't they be annoyed at us for wasting ammunition?' Miller said.

'Don't worry, Miller. You can go out and reclaim them all when we're
finished.' Mallory drew the crossbow and fitted the bolt before looking
through the sight as he moved it in an arc over the rooftops. 'When you
really need street lighting . . .'he sighed.

The guard wandered up. He had the worn features of someone who had
worked too hard for too long. 'It won't do any good, you know. You can't
kill them. The best you can do is hurt them.'

'Hurting is good,' Mallory said.

'I don't know . . .'the guard mused. 'Maybe I should talk this over with
the captain.'

Mallory clapped a comradely hand on his shoulder. 'Look, we're all
under pressure here. This is just a bit of aimless
sport ...
a bit of
r'n'r and some way to show we're not a waste of space . . . we're not
beaten.'

'Thumbing our noses,' Gardener said in support.

The guard thought about this for a second, then nodded. 'Go on. Give
'em hell.' He wandered off whistling a Madonna song.

'Right,' Gardener said quietly, 'let's tear those bastards to pieces.'

They knelt down to rest their crossbows on the top of the wall, aiming at
the empty road ahead where the supernatural creatures would sooner or
later make their nightly appearance. After a while, Miller began to mutter
under his breath.

'For God's sake, Miller, what is it?' Mallory muttered.

'I'm not happy with this.'

The other three all groaned together. 'I'm having a post-traumatic stress
disorder flashback,' Daniels moaned. 'Didn't we go through all this in the
refectory? Didn't we talk
at length
before reaching a democratic agreement?'

'Yes, didn't we tell you you're a stupid bastard and to shut up?' Mallory
added.

'They're living creatures,' Miller protested.

'Debatable,' Gardener said.

'They are. They move, they think—'

'But they don't have souls,' Gardener said.

'Neither do dogs,' Miller said. 'But would you advocate sitting up here
shooting at a few pets running around out there?'

'If they were the enemy,' Mallory said.

'We're Christians,' Miller said. 'We shouldn't be going out inflicting

pain on any living creature. We turn the other cheek
. .
. that's what we
do.'

'Eye for an eye,' Gardener said. He cranked the bolt, ready to loose it.
'They should be coming out any minute, right?'

'Regular as clockwork, so the guards say.' Daniels armed his crossbow,
too.

'I want to bag one of those little bastards,' Gardener said. 'Those black
eyes they've got really give me the creeps. It's as though they're looking
right into you.'

There was a movement as if a curtain of mist had been peeled back
across the street. In an instant the road was filled with the army of tiny
people with their pale skin and large, black eyes. The manifestation was so
eerie in its silence and speed that they all felt a frisson. Gardener shuddered
as though the beings had come in response to his comments. Though they
had shown bravado when they climbed on to the walls, none of them could
hide the primal fear evinced by the army of alien men, women and children
in their odd clothes with their bizarre weapons of war.

It took a second or two for them to accept that the siege army was not
making any attempt to advance as it had on previous days. Instead, they
stood shoulder to shoulder, all hideous dark eyes turned towards the
cathedral. An air of unsettling apprehension hung over the scene.

'What are they waiting for?' Daniels asked with irritation born of fear.

Gardener's finger gently caressed the crossbow trigger. 'Praying to the
Devil,' he said. 'A Hallowe'en ritual. This is Evil's night.'

Mallory felt growing unease. 'I'm not sure
. .
.'

'They'll move soon enough,' Gardener said. 'Just wait till they get
within range, then let rip. I'm going for that little shit on the horse. He
looks as though he might be the leader.'

'Something's wrong,' Mallory said. He let his crossbow slip, then leaned
forwards so that he could get a better look. 'They're waiting for something.
It's as if they're listening . . .'

The white faces were turned up slightly, the moon making them glow with
a spectral light. Their complete lack of movement was as frightening as their
appearance. Gardener couldn't contain himself any longer. He loosed his
bolt, but in his tense state his hand shook and it flew off course, embedding
in a tiny wagon. The thud echoed across the silent street. Even then none of
the creatures moved, nor even acknowledged they had been attacked.

'What
are
they doing?' Daniels said insistently.

'I don't like this,' Miller whined.

'Wait,' Mallory snapped. He had heard a sound, lost beneath the wind,
something that had disturbed him, but it had come from his back, not
from the city ahead. He turned and looked across the darkness engulfing
the compound. Nothing moved. The only light came from the candles
within the cathedral.

'What is it?' Daniels asked.

Mallory strained to catch what lay beneath the wind. 'I thought I
heard . . .'

'Look at that.' Gardener's voice was so filled with repressed terror that
they all felt queasy to hear it.

He was pointing over the rooftops. In the distance, rising up like grey
smoke against the night sky, was the outline of a horned figure. It was
massive, insubstantial, suggestive of great power. It had barely reached its
full height when it began to break up and drift away. Instantly lights began
to flare across the Stygian landscape beyond the city boundaries.

'Bonfires,' Mallory said.

'What does it mean?' Miller whimpered.

'The Devil.' Dread had turned Gardener into a shadow of his real self.
'The Devil's here.'

The noise behind them was now unmistakable and growing louder as
voices rose up in support. Mallory heard terror, and disbelief, and grief. It
was like wildfire, jumping from one person to the next. It was hard to tell
which had the greater impetus - a desire to escape from the terrible threat
looming over Salisbury or to respond to the alarm behind them - but they
were all instantly in motion, skidding down the ladder and running across
the compound to the source of the cries.

They found a small group milling around the cathedral doors. They
were throwing their heads back and their hands up, wailing to the heavens.
Mallory and the others drove through them to find Julian slumped against
the base of the wall. Blood gleamed on his hands and face, so much blood
that they were sickened to look at it.

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