Marc Chadbourn - The Devil in green

'Steady on, Miller. They'll have to hose you down when we get back.'

The woman stared at Miller, her brow furrowing; she'd obviously caught him watching and talking about her. Miller blushed furiously and looked away. Mallory jabbed a thumb at him, then raised one eyebrow at the woman. She shook her head wearily.

'Mallory!' Miller protested. 'She thinks I'm after her now!'

'That'll teach you to stare.' Mallory chortled to himself before downing the remainder of his pint in one go.

'You're such a lad.' Miller sighed, becoming gloomy as memories surfaced. 'Did I tell you I was going to get married?'

'Yes.'

'Sue and me had been going out since we were at school. I thought we'd always be together. No great beauty… not too smart, either… but that didn't matter. She really made me laugh. She didn't mind that I was a brickie's mate, didn't nag me to get a better job.' He was staring at the floor, lost to his thoughts. 'You know how it is when you're with someone so close it's like you're with yourself?'

'No.'

'You don't have to put on any act,' Miller continued dismally, 'you can be the same sad loser you know you are without pretending to be anybody else and they still love you.'

'I said, no.' Mallory pretended to concentrate on his glass while surreptitiously watching the woman, wishing he were in a position where he could talk to her.

'At least, I thought it was like that,' Miller continued to himself. 'But I was just fooling myself, wasn't I? Maybe if I'd acted like somebody else she'd still be with me… and everything would be all right again.'

He mumbled something else that sounded as if he thought it was important, but Mallory's attention was deflected by sudden activity outside the window: a flash of a figure running by in the dark, then another, then several people sprinting. It was a perfectly mundane image, but a tingle of apprehension ran up his spine nonetheless.

Others had noticed it. An old man in a window seat pressed his face against the glass. Someone else ran out into the street, grabbed hold of a passing teenager who at first struggled to get free before pointing behind him, gabbling animatedly.

Miller's chattering in his ear was a distant drone; Mallory was drawn by the scenario unravelling outside.

As the teenager ran off, the man who had emerged from the pub looked back down the street. A subtle change crept across his face, amused detachment giving way to incomprehension, then a dull, implacable fear.

'I think we need to see this,' Mallory said quietly.

As he replaced his glass on the table, other drinkers were already making their way out on to the street. Mallory pushed his way into the centre of the road with Miller trailing behind him. They were instantly transfixed.

Though it was a dark, moonless night with heavy cloud cover, the sky was filled with light. Flashes of angry fire illuminated the clouds, every now and then bursting through to form pillars of flame that rammed down to the earth. Occasionally, it limned a shape moving with serpentine grace on large batlike wings that beat the air lazily. Mallory thought he glimpsed the shimmer of jewels on its skin, rich sapphires, emeralds and rubies; echoes of another image surfaced from the depths of his subconscious, of fire in the dark. Whatever it was, it was filled with power, but there was something in the way it moved that suggested a terrifying fury: it was hunting.

But that wasn't the worst thing. Behind it, along the horizon but sweeping forwards, Mallory could make out something he could only describe as a presence: a thick white mist was unfurling like cloth, billowing at its central point and folding around at the edges so that it had an unnatural substance and life. It moved quickly across the landscape towards the city. Occasionally, the mist would take on aspects of a face — hollow eyes, a roaring mouth — before some other disturbing shape appeared; Mallory saw something that resembled an animal, another that looked like a bird. Gradually, it coalesced into a smoky horned figure towering over the city, insubstantial but filled with primal fears.

'The Devil,' Miller whispered, terrified, 'and the Serpent.'

The air was infused with a palpable sense of dread. Everyone standing on that chill, dark street could only look up at it and remember years of religious imagery, laid on them since childhood, of damnation and torment. Whatever it was, it had come from the outer dark to the city, and its intent appeared apparent. Those of a Christian bent crossed themselves, and some who had not called themselves Christian for a long time did so, too.

Miller was whimpering quietly, whispering, 'The Devil… the Devil…' until it became a mantra of Evil rippling through the crowd.

Even Mallory, who thought he was numb to most things, felt a crackle of fear as he looked up at the ancient image. He didn't know what it was, or tried to tell himself he didn't, but he knew he could feel the presence of a cold, alien intellect, and the threat it brought with it.

'The Devil's come to town.' Someone laughed, though without humour.

It drifted for a moment in the thermals above the cooling city before breaking up as something dark at its core drove forwards with a monstrous purpose. Screams rang throughout Salisbury, one voice lifting up in terror.

Mallory glanced back in the direction of the cathedral. Miller's sagging expression showed they both shared the same thought: even if they got back to the gates, there was little chance they'd be able to get inside in time.

'Come with us.' The voice at Mallory's shoulder was low, warm and accentless, though insistent. He looked into the face of the woman he'd been admiring, and for the briefest instant he was so dazzled by her large, dark eyes that the threat faded into the background.

'You've got a concrete bunker with ten-foot-thick walls?' he said.

'Something like that.' Her gaze felt as if it was cutting through all his carefully prepared defences and he quickly looked away.

A teenager with dreadlocks bleached a brilliant white appeared beside her. 'Come on, let's move.' His eyes flickered furtively towards the Devil in the sky.

The group Mallory had decided were New Age travellers headed quickly down the street, the woman at the heart of them, pausing only briefly to see if Mallory was following.

'What are we going to do?' Miller asked anxiously.

'Stand here or run.' Mallory didn't wait to see Miller's choice.

They veered away from the cathedral along Crane Street, over the river bridge to Queen Elizabeth Gardens where the tent city sprawled. The cries had become a nerve-jangling chorus, rising up all around as though everyone in the city was aware of what was bearing down on them. The horned shape had dissipated, to be replaced by a rushing wind that had substance and its own inner darkness screaming in at roof-height. Chimney pots crashed down, sending slates showering into the street. The glass of streetlights exploded as if crushed by a malicious hand.

As they ran towards the tents, they were all knocked from their feet by the Shockwave of a powerful blast. Rubble rained down all around, most of it reduced to less than the size of a fist. With ringing ears, Mallory looked back to see part of the shopping quarter on fire, a column of thick black smoke rising up to the serpentine winged creature, now clearly visible.

'A Fabulous Beast.' The woman sat nearby, rubbing at her temple, which was now streaked with brick dust. 'And it's angry?' She threw off her daze and hauled Miller to his feet, urging him to move. Mallory was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy for the touch of her hand. 'We need to get within the camp,' she said, which Mallory found faintly ridiculous when the only shelter there was a thin covering of canvas or plastic.