James Herbert: ‘48

We both heard the double doors behind us burst open and the yattering rabble surge through, but neither of us bothered to look. I began to slow down though, popping the flap button of my holster as I did so.

Muriel made it to the doors, almost crashing into them in her eagerness to get through. She was sobbing as she grabbed the vertical handles on each side and pulled. I heard her cry out in dismay when nothing happened. She tried again, yanking the double doors with all her might, rattling them in their frame. Still they held tight

She looked over her shoulder at me as I drew near. ‘They’re locked, Hoke!’ she almost screamed. ‘Oh my God, they’re locked!’

I came to a halt and turned to face the advancing mob, drawing the pistol from its holster in a smooth, easy movement

‘Yeah,’ I said to her. ‘I know.’

SHE STARED AT ME as though I’d finally flipped and I guess my grim smile confirmed her suspicions.

‘We’re trapped,’ she said incredulously between hard-fought breaths.

‘So are they,’ I remarked, nodding towards the small army of Blackshirts, which was now beginning to slow down to a stroll as they realized our predicament.

S’far as I could tell, most of them were on the walkway now – a few were probably still climbing, but they’d be here soon – and their unhealthy faces were filled with weary triumph. Some were unsteady on their feet, others were being helped along by their buddies; one or two were holding on to the iron girders for support and sucking in great lungfuls of the high fresh air. They filled the footbridge, a shabby band of sick bigots and hopeful (and hopeless) parasites, stealing forward, coming to a halt when they saw the gun in my hand. Weapons were raised towards me.

I waved the Browning in the direction of Muriel and said, ‘She’ll be no good to you dead. And neither will I.’

Even the dullest of them got the message. They stopped shuffling forward.

‘Don’t shoot.’

I recognized the feeble, high-pitched voice easily enough, but wondered if Hubble was talking to me or his rabble army.

‘We have them now, they can’t escape.’

The crowd moved aside as he was helped through from the back, McGruder and another Blackshirt supporting him by the elbows. That pleased me a whole lot. Hubble had made it, and that had been my main concern.

Muriel had come away from the locked doors to stand closer to me and Hubble frowned at her.

‘Keep away from him, Miss Drake,’ he warned, fixing her with those fanatical eyes of his, the dark tints around them making him look like the villain in one of those old silent movies. He tried to straighten his body, an effort that was only partially successful, as if to assert his former power. ‘This man is a savage, but he won’t harm you. That’s right, isn’t it, Mr Hoke? You wouldn’t shoot such a fine young lady.’

‘I guess not,’ I replied, and pointed the gun at his forehead.

His unwholesome smile withered and he lost his grand pose: his body sagged to its old lines. He glared at me.

‘You can’t kill us all, fool,’ he hissed through his grimace. ‘One shot and my men will tear you to pieces.’ His eyes sought Muriel again. ‘Step away from him. Join us again, your friends, your true kind. I was desperate before, otherwise I would never…’ he left it unsaid, still smart enough not to spell it out for Muriel. ‘We have this one now, we…I…can use his blood…’

Unbelievably, Muriel took a step towards this degenerate. But she looked around at me before going any further, confused and uncertain.

‘Go ahead,’ I said, weary of the game. ‘Join them if that’s what you want to do. But he’ll bleed you, Muriel, he’ll steal your blood and leave you dry.’

‘But what else can I do, Hoke? How else can I survive?’ She looked beaten, her strength gone, her breathing still unsteady. ‘They’ll kill us right here if we don’t go with them.’

‘My dear Muriel, of course we wouldn’t do that.’ Hubble had dropped the ‘Miss Drake’ in favour of a more paternal address, and there was something obscene in the wheedling tone he mistook for charm. ‘We’re the same, you and I, and your father was a valued friend. Whatever your decision, I promise you’ll not be harmed in any way.’

And if you believe that, Muriel, I thought to myself, you deserve all the hell you’ll get from this ghoul. But the banter was okay, all this talk was giving the stragglers time to reach the walkway. Raising my head, I looked past those in front and saw two Blackshirts stumbling through the doors at the far end. They had to be the last of the pack judging by the numbers here. Okay. Time for the finale.

I lifted the canvas bag from my neck and flipped it open. Four steps took me to the girders on the inner side of the footbridge and, using a diagonal strut for support, I pulled myself up onto the handrail that ran along its length. Over their heads I could see a shadowy figure beyond the glass half of the distant doors. Good. Cissie had left her hiding place and was sliding an iron bar through the handles on the other side of the double doors, locking them good and tight. She wouldn’t have done it unless the stairs were empty, so I silently wished her God speed on her journey down.

The Blackshirts were watching me uneasily, unsure of what I was up to and waiting for their chance to rush me; I kept the pistol levelled at Hubble, hoping that would hold them back.

‘You got a choice, Muriel,’ I said, much calmer than I felt and keeping an eye on the crowd rather than looking at her. ‘Come with me, or stay with this vermin and die.’

That confused her even more, but there was no time for explanations. McGruder let go of Hubble to take a couple of steps towards me; the gun redirected at his head gave him second thoughts.

‘It’d give me great pleasure,’ I let him know, and his agitation settled. He was still too close for comfort though, and I decided it was now or never. But it was my turn to be surprised when Hubble began to make odd gagging noises, as though something was stuck in his throat

He clutched at his neck, his black fingers shivering, pulling open his shirt, his body starting to convulse. His eyes looked as though they were about to pop from their sockets, and they were bleeding from the corners; blood was pouring from his ears also, and then from his open mouth. He stooped even more as McGruder reached for him, and then began to squeal, an awful drawn-out sound that was more animal than human. His hands grabbed at his chest, then his stomach, then a shoulder, his body contorting as he tried to touch the pain. His black pants were drenched as liquid poured from his lower orifices, and I knew it was blood that was soaking them, that blocked arteries inside him were bursting, discharging their dammed-up load; soon other, smaller veins were breaking, discharging their flow, and we could see the darkness spreading beneath his sallow skin. His muscles cramped, major organs began to falter, then fail. The moment he had dreaded and had known was approaching fast was finally here. It was time for Hubble to die.

His squealing became a high, keening scream that ended when a fierce gusher of blood exploded from his mouth to splatter the floor and those close to him. His dying was violent and it was horrific, and we watched as if mesmerized. That is, we watched until I decided that no person, no matter how twisted, how evil, deserved such an agonizing death. I shot him between those leaking eyes and he dropped without another murmur.

Everything happened fast then, and I moved like a jack rabbit to keep ahead of it all. A howl went up from the crowd and McGruder went down on his knees beside Hubble’s blood-oozing body. Others hurled themselves at me and by the gleam in their eyes I could tell they wanted to drag me down and tear me to pieces with their bare hands. I lashed out with my foot, kicking one in the jaw – that same, healthy-looking guy whose face I’d slammed the door against downstairs – sending him reeling back into the mob and giving me time to pull something from the canvas bag hanging loose from my shoulder. Holding it in my left hand, I took careful aim along the walkway with my right, my elbow looped around the iron strut, the extra height on the rail giving me the angle I needed. I pumped three rapid shots into the blue-uniformed corpse on the chair surrounded by covered boxes.