Shaun Jeffrey: Dead Man's Eye

She peered at Joanna for a moment until recognition dawned and she started to close the door. “Do you realise what bloody time it is? I told you once-”

Joanna leaned against the door. “I know what you told me, now you listen to me. I know you’ve seen them.”

“Seen what?”

“The shadows.”

Margaret visibly blanched. “Look, I don’t know what you’re on about. Now if you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

“That won’t do any good. You’ve got to listen to me.”

A baby started crying in the background.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Margaret said. “I’ll never get him off again.”

“Well if you love your son, you’ll listen to me. Please. You’re the only hope I have left.”

“What are you saying? Are you threatening my son? Where’s your friend? The one you came here with before.” She peered past Joanna, eyes flitting nervously in their sockets.

“He’s dead. They got him.”

Margaret’s expression hardened. “I don’t know what you want, but please, just go.”

“You’ve seen them haven’t you,” Joanna said. “The shadows that surround certain people.”

“Shadows.” She chewed her lip. “It’s just a problem with my eye adjusting to the new cornea.”

“No, it’s not. Where did you see them, the shadows?”

“At the hospital.”

“Anywhere else?”

Margaret shook her head.

“Well doesn’t that tell you something? You don’t see them everywhere, because only certain people are… infected, but if we don’t do something, you’ll see them spread.”

“Infected. I don’t understand.”

The baby started crying louder, the sound turning into a scream.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but you’re going to have to come in before he wakes the whole street.”

As she opened the door, Joanna entered. She knew that Margaret must be alone with the infant, otherwise her partner would have seen to it. She closed the door as Margaret disappeared up the stairs, reappearing moments later cradling a baby.

“Through there,” she said, indicating a doorway with a nod of her head, “while I make him some milk.”

Joanna walked through the door Margaret had indicated and located the light switch. Sparsely furnished, the lounge contained a settee, a television, a sideboard and piles of baby toys that looked well used, perhaps second hand.

“Sorry about the mess,” Margaret said as she entered and pushed aside a pile of building blocks to sit on the settee, cradling her baby as she fed him from a bottle.

Joanna rubbed her face. She imagined she looked as bad as she felt.

“You’re going to find it hard to believe what I’m going to tell you,” Joanna said.

Margaret looked up. The baby in her arms sucked on the bottle in its mouth.

“There’s a man at the hospital who lost his arm, and don’t ask me how, but something has invaded his body.”

“Invaded? What do you mean?”

“It’s as though he’s been taken over, possessed by something evil. But now he’s not alone. He’s infecting other people with whatever it is inside him.”

“You do know how crazy that sounds?”

“Yes, but you’ve seen them. The corneas we received came from a priest. Somehow, I think his eyes allow us see the people that have been possessed. I know how this sounds, believe me, but I need you to help me.”

“Help you what?”

“To convince the authorities that they exist. That I’m not mad.”

“And what makes you think they’ll believe me any more than they believe you?”

Joanna looked Margaret straight in the eye. “We have to make them believe. Peoples’ lives depend on it. If not for me, then do it for your son. Whatever these things are, they’re going to spread if we don’t do something about it.”

Margaret didn’t look convinced; more sceptical. “It all sounds…”

“I know how it sounds, but you’ve got to believe me. People are dying out there. Here, look at this.” She withdrew her mobile, turned it on and played the video she had shot in the basement.

Margaret watched without speaking. When the video finished, she said, “All I saw were a load of legs. It could have been anyone.”

Joanna turned the phone back off. “What about the conversation?”

“It could have been staged. A recording. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Stand up and be counted. Back me up. Two people shout louder than one.”

Margaret removed the bottle from the baby’s mouth and placed him across her shoulder, patting his back. “I’m sorry, but I’m not convinced about what you’re saying. You’re talking as though they’re monsters.”

“Oh believe me, they’re worse than monsters.”

The baby burped and Margaret cradled him in her arms and stared at him. “I’d like to help… it’s just… I’ve got a family.”

Joanna wanted to shout, to scream, anything to secure Margaret’s help, but realising the futility of it, she nodded, resigned to being all on her own.

Apologising for waking her, Joanna left the house and walked up the street. She needed to clear her head, think things through.

Moths flitted around the streetlights like lost souls. Joanna knew how they felt. Her world would never be the same. And people had to know what was going on.

Whatever it took, she was going to bring the bastards down.

“Well where will she go?” Malachi asked.

Jaasir, the demon using Stephen’s body shrugged. Blisters from the holy water scarred his face, appearing to have almost eaten through one of his cheeks, the flesh weeping.

Malachi didn’t like to acknowledge that his minions had a weakness.

“Her family lives too far away, but she has a few friends close by,” Jaasir said as he picked at one of the blisters, peeling the skin back to reveal the layers underneath. “She might go to one of them.”

Malachi nodded. Damn that girl. She was turning out to be more than an irritant. “Is there anywhere else she might go?” He suspected that she wouldn’t return to a church, not after last time. It had been blind luck that his minions checked out the holy places in their search. That luck wouldn’t last.

“She might revisit Margaret Jones.”

Malachi frowned. “And who is Margaret Jones?”

“Both Joanna and Margaret received corneal implants from a priest. That’s how they can see us. The priest has given them the ability.”

“So there’s another one with the power? Why wasn’t I told about this?” Malachi glared at Jaasir. “See to your face, then fetch me this Margaret Jones so that I can pluck out her eyes myself.”

Jaasir nodded and exited the basement room.

Malachi watched as his minion departed. The brief sense of glee he felt at possessing Joanna’s boyfriend with one of his creed had been short-lived.

With Jaasir gone, he turned to face one of the doctor’s in his group. “I need something to keep my vessel asleep so that I can be in control at all times. Your host will have the information in his memory files. Access them.”

The doctor nodded. “You’re talking about a barbiturate-induced coma.”

“And what’s one of those?”

“Basically it’s a temporary coma brought about by using a drug such as pentobarbital or thiopental. Humans use it to put a patient’s brain into hibernation so that it can recuperate.”

Malachi waved his hand dismissively. “And will it stop Lincoln from waking?”

The doctor nodded.

“Then get me the drugs.”

Malachi smiled. When he had total control, nothing would be able to stop him.

Unable to oust the demons for fear of being ridiculed – or worse – Joanna knew her only option was to kill them.