Chris Simms: Killing the Beasts

They ran in and knelt down beside her. As one ripped open compression bandages the other hastily prepared an oxygen mask.

'Will she survive?' Jon asked, leaning over their shoulders.

'Yeah, if we stop the flow of blood immediately. Just give us some space.'

Jon backed out of the room and began to anxiously pace up and down the corridor, overwhelmed by an urge to do something. Seeing the answerphone icon on his screen, he called it up and heard his sister's voice. 'Hi Jon, little sis here. Just on the off chance, seeing as I didn't take you up on your offer to get me that Violet Crumble the other day… Alice gave me a pack of this really nice gum the other night. I can't find it for sale in any of the shops around here. She said she got it in some promotion at Piccadilly station. I'm hoping it might be for sale in the newsagent's there — it's called X-treme and it's citrus flavoured. I just thought if you were passing. See ya soon, bye!'

'Oh no, oh please God no,' prayed Jon, calling his home number, suddenly remembering that Alice got the train into Manchester, too.

After five rings it clicked on to the answerphone, but Jon was sprinting out of the front door before the message even started.

The weak November sun had now sunk from sight and fireworks screeched and screamed up into the darkening sky. He raced along Fog Lane, shouting pedestrians out of his way. In the recreation ground kids whooped and cheered as they let off strings of bangers. He careered on to Kingsway knowing that, from there, his house was only minutes away. A solid line of slow-moving cars stretched off in both directions and he leaped into the path of the nearest vehicle, arms raised up. As it went into an emergency stop he clearly heard the driver yell, 'You fucking dickhead!'

He darted into the next lane, barely registering the crunch of shunting cars behind him. On to Lane End and he raced along, knowing that as soon as he saw Heaton Moor Golf Course on his left, his own road was just ahead.

Tom checked the entry form and saw that he was on the correct street. He placed the briefcase at his feet, removed the bag of powder from his pocket and took a large pinch. Then he flexed his shoulders, took a breath in and looked at the number on the nearest house. He carried on along the road, then turned up a driveway. As he stood on the front doorstep, he looked down at the entry form again, thinking that the surname was vaguely familiar. But with all the whispering in his head, he couldn't concentrate on trying to dredge up where he'd seen or heard it before. He rang the bell.

There was a burning in his throat and he could feel his knees going numb as the heels of his shoes pounded on the pavement. He got to the end of his road and charged up to his house. The front door was shut and the sitting room light was on. He slowed to a halt, trying to catch his breath and calm himself. His hands were shaking as he pulled the keys from his pocket and they jingled slightly before he found the lock. The door opened. Silence. He needed to take in air, but didn't dare breathe because of the sound it would make. In a couple of strides he was at the living room door.

Alice lay on the floor, stretched out in front of the gas fire, Punch shivering on the rug next to her.

Wide-eyed and now able to gasp for breath, Jon said, 'Are you all right?'

Alice looked at him like he was mad. 'Yes. Why shouldn't I be?'

'What are you doing?' He stepped fully into the room and looked around.

'Trying to calm your dog. Firework night, remember? Bangs, whistles, explosions. What the hell are you doing?'

Jon swallowed hard and took in a lungful of air. 'You wouldn't believe it.' He let out a sudden nervous laugh and then went back to the front door to push it shut, saying over his shoulder as he did so, 'I honestly thought you were in serious trouble. I mean serious trouble.'

Tom watched as a wavery figure approached the frosted glass. A female's form. The door opened up.

'Good evening, 'Tom smiled. ‘Miss Ellie Spicer?'

He hung his jacket on the banister and paused in the living room doorway to wipe the sweat off his forehead and check again that she really was OK. Shaking his head in relief, he said, 'Oh God, that was horrible,' before carrying along the corridor to the kitchen.

With Punch slinking miserably along behind her, Alice followed him. 'Jon Spicer, will you just tell me what the hell you are on about?'

Jon yanked his shirt off and wiped himself down with it. 'I'll explain later. I've got to get back to Tom's house.'

'Tom's house? What's going on?'

Jon reached into the laundry basket and pulled out a rugby shirt. 'These murders. I hate to say this, but it looks like it was Tom Benwell.'

'Tom? The guy you used to play rugby with? But why? Why would he be killing people?' Not wanting to give Alice a glimpse of the insanity he'd just witnessed, Jon could only shake his head in reply. 'I don't know, but I've just come from his house. There's stuff there that… stuff there which is pretty conclusive.'

'What stuff?'

'Things. Things he used to select his victims. Listen, I've got to get back. I'll phone to get a car sent over here. Don't open the door to anyone who isn't in a uniform.' He pulled the rugby shirt on as a crackle of fireworks went off.

'Jon!' Alice said sharply, causing Punch to cower at his feet. 'You're not bursting in here with eyes popping out of your head, telling me a friend of yours could be killing people, then buggering off again. What do you mean by things to select his victims? Am I in danger?'

Jon looked towards the front door. 'OK, you picked up some gum in a promotion at Piccadilly station a few weeks back?'

She nodded in reply.

'And you filled out one of the competition entry forms?'

'Yes, 'Alice whispered, eyes going wide.

'That's what he's using to select his victims — everything he needs is on the bloody entry…' Alice was looking sick. Jon stepped towards her. 'Hey, don't worry. You're not in any danger now.'

The fingertips of one hand had gone up to her trembling lips. 'Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I didn't put my name on the form.' She grabbed him by the arm, started pushing him down the hall. 'Your sister. I thought she deserved the chance of a nice holiday.'

Jon was trying to turn around. 'Ellie's name and address are on the form?'

Tears were in Alice's eyes.

Jon shouted, 'Phone her!' He grabbed the keys to the spare car and roared off down the street.

The pops and crackles came thick and fast, sending flashes of multicoloured lights through the curtains.

'You sure I can't ring my friend, Alice?' asked Ellie, happily chewing away on the stick of gum. 'It's her writing on the entry form. She'll be so chuffed to find out. In fact, I'll take her with me. God, this is so exciting!' Tom smiled. 'It would be better if we confirm everything is in order first.'

'Oh right, my passport. Hang on, it's in here somewhere.'

As she started rummaging around in a set of drawers in the corner of the room, the phone started ringing outside in the hallway. Ellie stopped searching and straightened up, raising a hand to her forehead. 'Wow! I've come over all dizzy! I'll just get-'

Tom interrupted her. 'Please — if we could just confirm everything's in order first. I wouldn't want you to spill the good news to anyone before we're sure you can claim the prize.'

Ellie looked at him, then shrugged. 'OK. 'She turned back to the open drawer as the answerphone took the call. 'Here you go,' she said, handing him the passport.

'That's great,' said Tom, clearing his throat. 'Could I ask for a cup of tea before we get started?' 'Good idea!' said Ellie. 'I'd like one too; I feel a bit wobbly. How do you take it?' 'Milk and two sugars, thanks.' She disappeared down the corridor to the kitchen. Tom sat quite still, whispering replies to the voices.