Simon Clark - The Fall

Now, was the furtive stranger another practical joke? This time one targeted at one Lee Burton?

Lee walked cautiously forward, his head tilting this way and that, trying to get a better view.

He walked faster as the figure moved backwards, deeper into the wood.

In the fringes of the wood, with the carpet of fallen red leaves crisp beneath his feet, Lee paused. He remembered what had happened to Sam Baker well enough. How he’d confronted the axe-wielding barbarian in 1944.

He glanced back towards the farmhouse. It seemed too far away now. If someone should rush at him from the shadows he wouldn’t stand a chance.

He gritted his teeth, imagining an axe crashing down against the top of his head, the pain ringing all the way down to the tips of his toes as if he were a bell.

Far enough , he told himself with a shiver. Don’t go deeper into the wood .

Besides, the figure had disappeared now.

Cautiously, he edged backwards, not wanting to present his own back to those shadowed depths of the wood.

His feet rustled through the leaves.

Nice and easy does it.

Don’t stay here.

Suddenly danger beat from the depths of the wood in near-palpable waves. He shivered more deeply; his skin tingled. He clenched his jaw as—

‘Don’t turn round.’

Jesus Christ .

‘Lee, please. Don’t turn round.’

Shocked, he was going to protest. ‘Why on Earth—?’

‘Lee. Just listen.’

‘Nicole?’ he asked in wonder. ‘Nicole? Good God, I thought you were dead! Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ she said in such a tight, strained way that a shiver ran down his back like a cascade of icy leeches.

‘Nicole—’ He turned round in time to see a blonde-haired figure duck back behind a tree just a dozen paces from him. ‘Nicole, what’s wrong?’

‘Lee, I asked you not to turn round.’

All he could see was a strand or two of hair being pulled by the light breeze from behind the tree where she hid, as coyly as if she were naked.

‘Nicole. Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘Listen. I just came to tell you something.’

‘Come down to the farmhouse… Wait! You don’t know about the farmhouse, do you?’ He spoke in an excited rush. ‘It’s all different now. Look at the clothes I’m wearing. Genuine 1865. I’m working at the music hall. Ryan got married. Married! Can you believe that? He’s working for his wife’s father who’s got—’

‘Lee. Lee ,’ she spoke anxiously from behind the tree. ‘Lee, please listen, there isn’t much time.’

‘Nicole? What’s the matter? Why are you hiding behind the tree?’ He took a step forward. It was as if she was afraid of being seen with him. Why? ‘Can’t you tell me what—?’

‘Lee! Don’t come any closer.’

‘But—’

‘Please don’t ask why. Just do as I ask, for my sake. Do you promise?’

‘Sure. If that’s what you want. But where have you been? We thought—’

‘Lee. All I want you to do is please listen to me. I can’t stay here long. Okay?’

‘Okay, Nicole.’

He found himself watching the tree as she spoke, remembering the beautiful blonde-haired girl whose ambition it was to become a lawyer.

‘You’re too close to the amphitheatre here.’

‘But we—’

‘Too close. In fact, you need to get away from this whole area. Away from Casterton. If you can, get out of the county.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s a storm about to break. A big one. There’s not going to be much standing after it hits, believe me.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t have to understand, not entirely. Just trust me, okay?’

‘But we can’t uproot just like that.’

‘Yes, you can. Uproot and get away from here. Look, Lee… You remember when Sam Baker was attacked by that man – a Bluebeard, they called him – remember?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, there’s thousands of men like him. Tens of thousands. They’re vicious barbarians, and we know they’re on the move.’

‘We? Who’s this we?’

‘The people I live with now.’

‘Nicole, can’t you spare a few minutes to tell—?’

‘No. I’ve got to go now. I took a risk coming here.’

‘Risk?’

‘Yes, they – the bad ones – could have followed me across the boundary. For crying out loud, I might have even led them here. They’re just waiting for such a break so they can cross over from Limbo. Once they do, whatever they can’t carry away with them they’ll smash or burn. No-one’s safe. No-one can protect themself.’

‘I don’t understand what you mean. What boundary are you talking about? And what’s this Limbo?’

At that moment he saw Nicole run away from him. She didn’t look back. She just put her head down as if a heavy downpour had started and ran.

He followed, caught her by the arm, then pulled to stop her.

The momentum whipped her whole body round.

‘No, Lee! You promised you wouldn’t try and look at me!’

He stared into her face. It was the Nicole Wagner he knew, but her eyes were big and frightened-looking; maybe they were a little older and wiser, too.

‘Why did you hide from me? You can trust me to… Uh, Nicole? ’ His eyes widened in shock. ‘Wait. You’ve got something on your neck… Ugh, what is it? ’

She looked up at him, her eyes not flinching from his. As if he’d suddenly found her in the nude and she was challenging him not to stare down at her body.

‘Don’t move, Nicole. Here… let me knock it off.’

Her next movement was defiant. Chin held high, still meeting his eye, she put her hand over the side of her neck and gave a little shake of her head.

Then, still maintaining eye contact, she backed off into the shadows where the trees grew closer together. ‘Goodbye, Lee.’ A second later she turned to run lightly away into the heart of the wood.

He stood there for a moment, his arm out as if she’d left behind some phantom image of herself that he could still hold onto.

He couldn’t shift from his mind what he’d seen on her neck.

It stayed there, biting deep into his memory. It shouldn’t have been possible. But he’d seen something very similar before.

Nausea suddenly gripped him. He fought it for a while. Then the struggle became too much.

He dropped to his knees and vomited onto the ground.

Ten minutes later he walked down to the river bank with the intention of finding Sam Baker. He had to tell him about his meeting in the wood with Nicole.

Poor Nicole… Once she’d been so incredibly beautiful… The image was still locked firmly there inside his head. He wanted it out, but it would take a long time to fade.

When he’d grabbed her and she’d swung to face him he’d looked into her face. Where her jaw-line reached her ear there’d been a fuzz of brown fur. It wasn’t large. He could easily have covered it with the ball of his thumb. But it had been enough to make him look more closely.

At that instant he knew he would wish he hadn’t.

With his eyes widening, he found himself staring at the fold of skin where the bottom of her ear joined the neck.

From a series of small puckered lumps in the skin something as long and as thin as matchsticks jutted straight out.

He’d found himself staring as they stretched out stiff, then relaxed. Then they began twitching sharply.

He thought for a moment some large (disgustingly large at that) insect with scurrying legs had landed on her neck.

But those legs that emerged from the puckered mounds of skin on her neck were, he realised, the legs of a mouse.

Delicate, grey-brown, sprinkled with fine white hairs, they each possessed tiny prehensile claws that opened and shut, sometimes catching her lovely blonde hair and holding onto it.