Dean Carter - Blood Water

‘But it was in Holland before. He was the first one it infected. Why didn’t it get the information from him then?’

‘Well, maybe it did. Maybe that’s why it came back here. But if that’s true, why is it messing about in here. Why doesn’t it just go and find the others? Maybe it was still learning how to possess other creatures, or it could see the others but couldn’t locate them… Does that make sense?’

‘God, I don’t know,’ Waites replied after a pause. ‘It’s clearly here for a reason. And if it got into your head, it might be able to locate its mates. Don’t tell me anything about their location then. Let’s just concentrate on this one; we can worry about the others later. Do you know how many there are?’

‘Quite a few, I think,’ James said; Holland had used the word thousands in his journal.

‘All right, we’ll worry about them later. Come on, let’s find this thing and kill it.’

James moved forward again, his way lit intermittently by flashes of lightning. He had the strange feeling of being in a horror film. Wherever the dog was, it was being very quiet. However, the thing inside it wasn’t stupid: it knew its host wasn’t ideal, so it was being more cautious now. James remembered Titus’s death in the laboratory. The man just fell apart when Sean kicked him, like there was nothing holding his insides together. He remembered too the cold, sickening sensation he’d felt at the sight of that thing wriggling into Sean’s mouth. It had been the worst feeling ever. What would happen to his brother now? Could he survive after even those few seconds’ exposure? James couldn’t bear the idea of Sean having to go through that agony. He knew that if the time came and there was no other option, he might have to—

He shook himself out of his morbid thoughts and tried to concentrate on the task before him. As he followed the bloody tracks, he readied himself to react to any attack. Waites managed to move silently behind him despite the pain he was in.

The drops of blood trailed along the kitchen floor to a space under the counter where there was a pedal bin and a couple of boxes of mineral water. Behind these James saw a glint from what looked like an eye. The dog didn’t stir. James kept his eyes on the space, beckoning Waites forward and pointing. He saw him nod, then look around for a weapon.

Waites slowly opened the cupboard in front of him: plates and a jug were all he could see. He tried the cupboard below: saucepans, frying pans and baking trays – much more like it. He chose a heavy iron frying pan for himself and gave James a sturdy saucepan. For a moment he felt ridiculous, but then told himself that they were simply doing whatever they could under the circumstances. They had no access to guns or… knives. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Although maybe blunt force was the best way to deal with this thing, and swinging a knife around in such a small space might be dangerous. At least with a pan the worst they could do was stun each other.

‘Right – how are we going to do this?’ Waites whispered, stifling a cry of pain as his foot protested.

‘OK… I’ll charge and scare it out. You hit it.’ There was a pause as they both thought this through.

‘Can he understand what we’re saying?’ Waites asked.

James thought about this. The creature had been inside several people now: it had talked through them, used their memories… It was now inside a dog, but could it still understand human speech? There was no way of knowing for sure, and they didn’t have time to test it out.

‘I don’t think it’ll make much difference,’ James said. ‘I mean, even if it does know what we’re going to do, there’s not much—’

The dog chose that moment to dart from its hiding place across the kitchen floor into the rest area. It scampered under tables and chairs, all the way to the windows at the far end.

‘Little bastard!’ Waites screamed.

Then they heard a thump, and when they turned to look back under the counter, they saw an arm. The hand was greeny grey, and the body it was attached to was surely no longer alive.

‘Jesus,’ Waites said. ‘Who’s that?’

‘I don’t know,’ James said after a shocked pause. ‘Should I check?’

‘You take a look, I’ll go after the dog.’

‘All right, but don’t tackle it without me.’

‘I’ll just keep an eye on it. Don’t be long. Just check if they’re alive or not. We’ll deal with them once we’ve sorted the dog.’

Waites moved painfully off after the dog, frying pan held firmly in his hand. James crept over to the storage space and knelt down. The body was that of a young woman in her twenties, though James didn’t recognize her. Her eyes were half open, her mouth agape, and James knew she was dead even before he checked for a pulse. She must have been hiding from Holland when he’d gone berserk – though it wasn’t clear what had killed her.

Poor thing , James thought. She was attractive, he could tell, even though she wasn’t looking too good right now. He was about to stand up when he saw her lower lip move. There was a sound too – air escaping from her lungs perhaps. Maybe she was still alive after all. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a light shake. Her mouth opened wider, as if to say something, and that’s when the slimy black creature shot out from between her lips and straight into his mouth before wriggling its way up into his brain.

What terrified Sean most wasn’t the fact that the creature’s memories lingered in his mind, or that he had some psychic link with it; he feared that part of it might have been left behind – which surely made it more likely that he’d succumb to that horrible death. He was staring through the window, unable to move or even remember what he was supposed to be doing, or where the other two had gone. He was stunned, immobile, consumed with dread; he suddenly wondered if it would be better for everyone if he just walked out into the night, never to be seen again.

Then he heard footsteps upstairs and was shaken from his gloom. No , he thought, I’m not going to run. If I only have hours left, I’m going to use them to put an end to all this. I’m not going to die alone and useless. He felt odd – his stomach ached and he was shaking too, but he walked purposefully out of the office and headed up to the first floor. Whatever task faced him now, he felt equal to it.

If he’d had time to think about it, James might have wondered why the creature had chosen to hide in the body of the dead girl instead of remaining in the dog. As it was, the alien entity quickly asserted its control over his consciousness. Everything was mixed up in his head – time, names, places – even smells burst from nowhere and confused him, while the creature adjusted everything to its taste. When things settled down again, James was aware only of a smothering darkness; sounds and movement came and went, reminding him that he wasn’t asleep or dead, merely locked away in his own mind while something else used his body.

Waites was stalking the dog when James came up behind him. The teacher heard movement under a table and saw the dog limp out, whining and looking up at him as if for sympathy.

‘It must be feeling the pain now,’ he said to James. ‘Bit late to appeal to our better nature though. What do you think we should do – jump on it? Might just squash that thing inside it at the same time.’

He glanced at James, who seemed unusually quiet. ‘You OK, James? What about the girl – was she dead?’

There was a pause before the younger man replied, ‘Oh, yes.’

‘Right, well, you get ready to catch this little bugger if it gets away from me. I’m going to—’