Guy Smith - The Slime Beast

Gavin pulled her on to his knee and kissed the nape of her neck.

'Don't worry, love,' he murmured. 'Well give it one more day. Then, if there's no sign of the beast, you and I'll go back to London. If the Professor chooses to stay on here by himself then that's his business.'

She leaned back on him. 'Thanks. I shall be glad to get away from here. So long as we're together.'

For the next half hour not a word was spoken between them. There was no need. Their hands explored each other's bodies without any hint of embarrassment. Gavin let her do what he wanted her to do, his breath coming faster and faster until finally his whole frame shook with the release of his tension.

Afterwards they just lay there partially clothed forgetting for a time the horror which surrounded them.

'There's somebody coming!' Gavin struggled to his knees, pulling his trousers up as he did so.

Liz paled. They both listened. Footsteps, hurried, panic-stricken, coming from the seaward side of the marsh. Squelching and splashing, stumbling, laboured breathing then a violent pounding on the newly repaired door.

'Who ... who can it be?' Liz breathed. 'God, never a night passes in this place without somebody brings trouble.

'Well it certainly isn't the Slime Beast,' Gavin replied. 'Nor the villagers for that matter. Whoever it is, is badly scared of something. I'd better go see.'

'Don't. Please don't!' Liz caught hold of his arm. 'Every time somebody calls here it means trouble and terror. Don't open the door Gavin, Perhaps they'll just go away.'

Footsteps in the corridor heralded the approach of Professor Lowson. They saw him pass and then heard him tugging at the door. They moved to where they could watch fascinated, irresistibly drawn by the prospect of some fresh horror.

'Let me in! For God's sake, help me.' Clenched fists hammered on the woodwork even as the Professor tugged it back, then a man squeezed himself through the narrow opening. 'Shut it. Bolt it. Quick man or it'll get us all!'

'Glover!' Gavin exclaimed aloud. 'Mallard Glover.'

The wildfowler was trembling. In his hand he carried his long-barrelled twelve bore. His hair was awry and there was no sign of his woollen hat. His breath came in great gulps and his eyes rolled.

Professor Lowson forced the door shut and fastened it 'Whatever's the matter with you man?'

Glover appeared to be incapable of coherent speech for the moment. He leaned his back against the concrete wall and closed his eyes.

'My God,' he breathed. 'Oh my God!'

They led him into the living quarters and seated him on an upturned crate. Gavin found the medicine chest and poured out a liberal shot of cognac.

'Drink this,' he snapped. 'And then perhaps you'll be able to tell us what this is all about.'

The fowler downed the amber liquid in one gulp. He spluttered and coughed, then after a time he made an effort to pull himself together. All three of them looked at him. They said nothing. He would speak when he was ready.

'Bloody awful!' He blanched as he recalled his memories of the past half-hour. 'Never belongs to this world. That's what killed Hayward. No doubt about it. The villagers were right after all. A demon does guard the treasure.'

He paused for breath. Gavin and Liz looked at each other. Professor Lowson smiled triumphantly.

'The bastard nearly got me. Guns are no good against it.'

'Tell us from the beginning.' Gavin attempted to calm him in an attempt to extract the true facts.

'All right.' Glover accepted the cigarette which was offered, lit it and inhaled deeply before replying. 'I went across to the edge of the River Welland. There are a few geese moving about under this full moon and tonight was just right. I'd been there about an hour. Didn't see or hear anything so thought I'd move on, further up. I heard something moving up a deep creek. Thought maybe it was a coypu. Then I saw it! I'll never forget that moment as long as I live. Thought it was a man at first, some other fowler dressed up in sweaters and waterproofs, then the moon shone on it Covered in scales like a bloody reptile, and the face—bloody hell! You should've seen its face! Straight out of hell. Then it saw me. We were twenty yards apart. I let both barrels go. Heavy goose-shot I was usin' too. Should've cut it in two. It never even noticed it had been shot at. Then it started after me. There's only one thing to be said in its favour—it can't move very fast. Just shambles, but it won't let up though. It doesn't have to go round the deep creeks, just goes through them, submerges itself and comes up the other side. At last I got away from it. It changed direction and headed back to the sea-wall. Going inland probably. Thought I'd best come here.'

They sat in silence for some time.

'Well,' Professor Lowson knocked his pipe out. 'We'd better get out there and try and locate it Follow it to its lair. You lead the way Glover. You know where you saw it last.'

Mallard Glover recoiled in horror.

'Not me mister,' he snarled, 'not for a thousand quid. Not for ten thousand. Nobody'd get me out there again tonight. If you want to try and find it go ahead. But I'm not coming with you. That's for definite!'

Gavin and Lowson looked at each other. Liz turned her head away.

'We can't force you,' Gavin replied calmly. 'Anyway we can't take Liz with us and I don't like the idea of leaving her here alone with that thing on the prowl. So the only logical answer is for the two of you to stop here while the two of us go.'

Glover sighed with relief. A gleam appeared in his eyes.

'OK, then I'll stay here.'

'One word of warning though,' Gavin's lips were tight and bloodless. 'If anything happens to Liz here, I'll hold you responsible and then it would have been better for you if the Slime Beast had caught up with you.'

As they made ready to set off, Liz pressed her face close to Gavin's chest.

'Do you have to go?' she pleaded, close to breaking down. 'Couldn't we just take the Land Rover into Sutton and telephone the police?'

He shook his head.

'Once again we've got no proof. Don't worry love. All we want to do is to follow it at a distance and find out where its lair is, and once we've established that fact I'm going to phone the police. No matter what your uncle says. With any luck we'll be away from the Wash for good by this time tomorrow.'

'I can't wait. I never want to see this place again as long as I live.'

Their lips met, and she closed her eyes. She could not bear to open them again. As though in a trance she listened to the footsteps of the two men receding across the salt-marshes. Then slowly the silence came surging softly back.

AFTER another tot of brandy, handed to him by Liz, Mallard Glover began to feel a whole lot better. He stopped trembling. After all he was capable of outrunning this hellish thing which the archaeologists referred to as the Slime Beast. So long as it didn't corner you, you were all right. He grinned to himself. Suppose it did manage to surprise the two men who had gone out to look for ft, disembowelled them as it had done to Manton Haywood.

He glanced at Liz. Hell! He wouldn't have stopped that mob from the village if it hadn't been for her. And she didn't even realise ... She was lying on top of the sleeping-bag eyes closed, asleep. There were a couple of buttons on her blouse undone. She wasn't even wearing a bra. He leaned forward in order to obtain a better view. Now he could see a nipple. His eyes travelled down her slender form. There was a patch of wet on the outside of her jeans between her thighs. His imagination began working. She'd been playing around with that fellow called Gavin. He'd shot on to her. It brought back memories. He'd never had a woman properly, only Violet, the village pro, and everybody had had Violet She'd been charging a quid since before the war. No fancy playing about for your money. Never even took her knickers off. That was why she always wore wide-legged ones.