John Halkin - Squelch

‘Let’s hope we don’t find out,’ he said tersely.

They were approaching the village. Already the church spire was visible above the trees. Ginny bit her lip, trying not to betray her nervousness as she wondered what they would find when they arrived. Perhaps they were behaving stupidly even to go anywhere near the place. Neither of them might get out alive.

Rounding the last bend, the sight of two ambulances and a couple of police cars at the roadside, their lights flashing, was reassuring. A policeman flagged them down and seemed to recognise Jeff.

‘I’ve three two-litre cans of pesticide in the boot — back-packs with hand-sprays,’ he called out through the window. ‘And Miss Andrewes here also has experience of dealing with these caterpillars.’

‘Moths,’ the officer said. ‘Church is swarmin’ with ’em.’

‘No caterpillars then?’

‘Yes, them too. You’d better have a word with the Chief Inspector.’

They parked just ahead of the police cars and Jeff opened the boot. From a small cardboard carton he extracted a surgical mask which he handed to her.

‘Here, put this on under that net thing you’re wearing, to cover your nose and mouth,’ he instructed. ‘And always spray well away from yourself. This is more potent stuff than they were using yesterday.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because we want to kill them, not just frighten them off. Or didn’t I tell you? Yesterday when it was all over, we discovered one thing was missing — dead caterpillars. Oh, there were a few, but nowhere near the number we’d expected. Same with the moths, too. They may have crawled off to die somewhere else, but no one’s certain.’

As it turned out, Ginny was not one of those involved in the spraying. The Chief Inspector chose two of his tallest men, both dressed in overalls, riot helmets and Civil Defence gas masks. Her first impression that everything was under control had been wrong. Most of the victims were still inside the church; only eight or ten had so far been brought out and taken to the village school hall where an emergency centre had been set up.

‘It’s different from yesterday’s attack,’ the Chief Inspector said, his voice cool and brisk. ‘This time the moths hit first, blinding people. Then the caterpillars followed. So watch out in there, won’t you, miss?’

A couple of young ambulance men came running back from the school, preparing to enter the church again. Ginny went with them, silently swearing at herself for not having stayed in safety with the Reverend Davidson. Why did she always have to stick her neck out? Now here she was, scared and probably no use to anyone.

It was like entering some mysterious temple in which an orgy of sacrifice had recently taken place. The sun was soaking through the tall, narrow stained glass windows behind the altar and along the length of one aisle, casting long, straight beams of red, yellow, green, blue… Dozens of giant moths fluttered through the air which already carried a musty odour from the first whiffs of pesticide. Among the straight lines of pews their victims lay twisted grotesquely, for the most part silent, their faces and arms a mass of open wounds.

Ginny refused to be sick, however insistently her stomach churned. She must do something to help, she knew — but how? This whole, hellish sight had an enervating effect on her. The two young ambulance men were attempting to ease a woman out from between the pews, managing well enough without her. Two others, older men, dashed past her as they carried someone out on a stretcher. In the transepts on both sides Jeff and the police officers were busy spraying, moving slowly towards the main body of the church. But she merely looked on.

Moths came to investigate her, constantly colliding with her net face mask. She did not even push them aside. But at last she stirred, hearing a whimpering from near the front of the block of pews. Brushing the moths away with her arm, she went to see what it might be. She found a small girl, maybe about eight or nine years of age, hiding her face in her arms and shaking with terror.

‘Come on, let’s get you out of here!’ Ginny said more brusquely than she’d intended.

In response, the child raised her head and screamed violently, leaving her face exposed to the moths which surrounded them both.

Ginny picked her up but she wriggled, hitting out with her fists, still screaming. Attempting to hold the girl’s face against her own shoulder, she hurried back down the aisle towards the door. A moth spat at them, splattering both with its saliva. The patterned tiles were crawling with caterpillars. Her foot slipped on them as she felt them squash beneath her boots.

But she got the girl outside at last and it was only then in the full glare of the sun that she saw the caterpillar at work on her leg just above the little white ankle sock, already streaked with blood. Ginny grasped it firmly with her gloved hand and killed it.

‘Put her down here!’

A policewoman indicated a rough trestle table which had been set up beside the path near the lych-gate. Each of the casualties was placed on it in turn to be checked for caterpillars before going on to the emergency centre. Ginny helped her examine the girl; miraculously, that caterpillar on her leg had been the only one.

‘Right, take her into the school now,’ the policewoman instructed as the two young ambulance men approached with a badly-wounded man who might have been dead already.

Ginny hoisted the little girl up in her arms again to carry her over to the school hall. Inside, gym mats had been laid out against one wall for the survivors. A policeman with his shirt sleeves rolled up was applying a tourniquet to one man’s leg, while a woman helper prepared dressings for another.

The girl’s screams had subsided by now, but she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her thin arms clutched at Ginny’s neck as she tried to put her down on one of the mats.

‘Here, let me have her!’ The policewoman had followed her for some reason Ginny could not at first grasp. ‘It’s all right. The Chief Inspector asks if you can take over at the table while I work in here. He’s discovered I did a year’s nursing before joining the Force.’

Ginny nodded. ‘If that’s what you think.’

‘That’s right, it was my suggestion.’ The voice was young and businesslike, with a slight lilt to it. Turning, Ginny recognised Dr Jameela Roy. It was the first time they had met again since that evening in the hospital mortuary. ‘If you don’t mind, Ginny. The main thing is to make sure no caterpillars get in here.’

The policewoman took the little girl, gently untwining her arms from Ginny’s neck.

‘Now, let’s see who we’ve got here,’ Jameela went on, going over to the line of patients on the mats. ‘I understand the local GP was among those in the church?’

Outside, it was clear that the whole operation had entered a new phase. There were more police, and a fire engine had arrived. Its crew in full protective gear were on the point of entering the church. One of the two ambulances had already left but there was a blare of sirens as others approached.

The two young ambulance men had returned with a frail old woman on their stretcher. Her mouth was working busily, trying to say something as they half-lifted, half-tipped her on to the trestle table. The reason for their haste was obvious. At least three caterpillars were visible on her legs and arms, and there were possibly more.

Ginny began to pick them off, making sure each one was dead before throwing it aside, while the younger of the two men attempted to hold her face still as he took out her false teeth. The moth-saliva must have caught her full in the eyes, which stared upwards with a glazed, unseeing look.