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Authors: Ian Woodhead

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BOOK: Duplicity
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“How many of you are there?”

“There are four females in the tribe and about twenty males of various ages divided up amongst two of the females. Our queen has no males of her own, she just takes whom she wants.” He reached across and dragged William out into the garden. “I like being Henry. I have no intention of going back there. Whether you like it or not, you, my unfaithful friend, are going to help me get rid of them.”

The man’s head jerked up and down like a nodding dog. “Yeah, sure man. Anything you say. Wait, you just said that they couldn’t give a shit about you or your sister? Well, what are they really doing here?”

“I guess they may have started out searching for us in order to punish us for leaving the nest but their objectives have completely changed.”

He laughed. “The other woman, that thing who you were fucking was right you know. I was just a runt who definitely wasn’t used to rich meat. I had forgotten who and what I was. It’s all coming back to me now though.” He leaned forward. “There’s not many not us left, William. We hunted our food to extinction many years ago.”

“You mean, there’s more then just bats and bugs under the ground?”

Henry shrugged. “Probably not now but there used to be. That is beside the point. I believe that the others of my kind are now here to stay, and they only desire to do two things. They need to feed and breed. I sense that some of the yearlings have already hatched and you need to believe me, William. Our young are always very hungry.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

It had taken Thomas Brown over an hour to stop him from wanting to smash anybody and everybody who dared to come within a few feet of him. He’d lost a lot of custom and money because he daren’t do any pick-ups. By the time he pulled into the supermarket carpark, his raging fury had cooled down

He’d earn the money back, not that he’d lost that much, the afternoon drops were neither that busy, just the fact that, somehow, that bastard had managed to evade him twice really got under his skin. Thomas was a taxi-driver. He knew this town like the back of his hand. Thomas was positive that he’s seen that guy before; that meant he must be a local. He was a patient man, their paths would cross again, he was sure of that fact. He cracked his knuckles. The slime ball would regret the day that he pissed off Thomas Brown.

Thinking back, Thomas did find it a bit odd how the second time, the goon seemed to be a completely different person. That didn’t make sense, unless, of course, the time around, the fucker was off his tits on drugs when he’d decided to get into the back of his cab.

Thomas climbed out of his taxi and locked the doors. The poor pick-ups would soon change. In fact, tonight should be his most profitable one of the week. That certainly helped to lift Thomas out of his black mood. In just over a couple of hours, most of the town’s older population will be getting ready to leave the town in droves, all heading for the huge bingo complex five miles north. They’d opened the place a few weeks ago and as all the local dears all knew Thomas, the cash just rolled in.

He’d be guaranteed to be booked solid until past midnight. The prospect of some extra cash always made him a happy puppy. The blue rinse brigade weren’t tight with their money, especially after a few sherries and a good win. They’d give him a generous tip. Thomas could turn the charm on and off like a tap when he needed to.

A busy night though, meant that he’d have to sacrifice not having his usual meal. He’d not be able to stop for food until past one. That didn’t really bother Thomas too much as his favourite restaurant stayed open until three in the morning. As one in the morning approached, Thomas would be definitely ready for his chicken madras; in the meantime, he’d just have to keep his body fuelled with a generous amount of energy drinks.

He looked at the car driving into the parking spot beside his taxi. He hadn’t seen this motor around town. Not many folk round here could afford a bright yellow Aston Martin. Thomas had no doubts that the owner must have had it re-painted. No way was that it’s original colour. The bloke inside opened his door and grinned at Thomas. He smiled back. “That, sir, is one gorgeous looking car.”

The man smiled back. “Thank you. It’s good to find somebody who had an excellent taste in cars. I’m Derek,, by the way.”

“I’m Thomas.” He replied. “I’m guessing that’s not the original colour?”

The man climbed out of the driver’s seat. “No, mate. I had my baby re-painted last year.”

Thomas nodded, wishing that he had put enough money away to afford such a gorgeous car. He seemed like a decent enough bloke but a bit posh for the likes of him. Thomas couldn’t imagine the fellow having a laugh in the local boozer while knocking back pint after pint. “Like I said, it’s a nice car. Look after your self, mate.” Thomas turned and wandered through the double door before the man had time to respond. He picked up a basket and shook his head, sighing at the sheer number of people in the place.

His mind boggled at the vast amount of the nearly dead, slowly shuffling their way up and down the aisles. He walked into the foyer and nodded at the bored looking security guard, sitting on his platform between the doors. The place may have been busier than usual but it wouldn’t take him too long to get what he wanted.

Thomas knew where they kept the drinks and unlike his wife, he never felt the urge to walk up and down every single aisle. He hurried past the first two aisles, noticing quite a few familiar faces in the building. He’d be picking up a few of the old girls up soon and probably taking them back home too. Passing the self-service checkouts, Thomas saw three pensioners scanning bottles of cheap spirits. That made him giggle, it all made sense now. The blue rinse brigade must be loading up on booze before they hit the bingo hall. Bloody hell, he thought it was only teens and tweens who got up to that trick.

He stopped beside an ice cream cabinet and moved to the side to allow a pretty blonde employee to pass him. Thomas watched her progress as she walked over to the customer service desk. That bright yellow uniform did not exactly compliment her figure.

The guy from the sports car had also clocked the girl; her uniform would go nice with that car of his.

The girl reminded Thomas of his stepdaughter, in looks anyway. Tessa was as pretty as a picture but she really did have a vile personality. They hadn’t seen eye to eye ever since Thomas married her mother seven years ago. Thomas and her mother were due to bring up the dreaded word of ‘work’ tomorrow night with her. He knew that conversation would go down as well as a cup of cold vomit. The girl fully expected to live off her mother for the next few years.

She wouldn’t be seen dead working in a place like this. Although, knowing her, she’d probably have a go at chatting up the guy with the flash car. Come to think of it, so would his wife.

That reminded him. The woman promised Thomas that she would send him a text as soon as she got out of work. He couldn’t recall his phone vibrating. He took his phone out of his back pocket and stared at the no messages icon. His Maddie worked at the huge mill on the other side of the town, close to where they lived. She’d got the job as one of their operations managers a few years back. The money was good, a lot better than what he earned but she did have to put in a stupid amount of hours.

It was now past nine, the woman should be out of the mill by now. Maddie very rarely worked after eight. Thomas started to compose a text when someone pushed past him, jerking his arm. He looked up to see the security guard running up the next aisle. Most of the shoppers hadn’t noticed the running man but Thomas saw that several members of staff were hurrying towards the back of the store.

“May I have your attention? Could all customers please leave by the nearest exit, immediately.”

The posh bloke dropped a newspaper on the floor after the announcement was over. He didn’t run over to the door, instead, he saw Thomas and ran up to him. “Can you sense the atmosphere, man? Something weird is going on in here.”

He looked over to the doorway. “Why aren’t you leaving?

The man shrugged, “Dunno, why haven’t you?”

All the manned checkouts were now empty. The employees were running along the back wall, trying to herd as many customers as they could, towards the front of the store, but the over a dozen old folk were still queuing behind the self-service checkouts, patiently waiting to use the machines.

“Where did that security guard go?” The man brushed his hand through his thick black hair, “There’s no fire alarm going off, so we can rule that out. It’s a bit too dramatic for a shoplifter.”

Thomas nodded in the direction of the next aisle. “He ran up there.” He peered around the corner, an overturned shopping trolley lay across the aisle halfway up but there was no sign of the guard or anyone else.

“Oh bloody hell!” Derek gasped. “Can you see that?” He rushed past Thomas and dropped to his knees beside the trolley. “He looked over at Thomas. “I think the lad’s stuck. I need your help, man!”

Thomas jerked his head over to his side when a shrill scream blasted out from the far side of the checkout bays, it appeared to be two kids attacking an old man. The man was beating them with his walking stick while an employee was trying to pull one of them off the man’s back.

“Oh Jesus!”  Derek shouted.

Thomas watched his new friend jump back, shaking. His face had gone milk white. Derek glanced over at Thomas and shook his head.

“We need to get the fuck out of here.”

Thomas raced up the aisle and saw that Derek had managed to pull the man halfway out from under the fixture. He couldn’t see why he’d stopped. “Are you okay, mate?”

“He won’t be able to answer you.” The trembling man behind Thomas muttered.

It was definitely the guard, he saw the security firm’s logo embroidered on the man’s trousers. Thomas bent over, placed both his hands around the guard’s ankle and pulled him further out. A low moan escaped Derek’s mouth as Thomas’s exertions revealed more of the body.

Three kids ran down the aisle, screaming. Two of them pushed Thomas out of the way; their sudden appearance took him by surprise, they knocked off the guard and he wheeled back, falling onto the man behind him. The other kid leaped over the security guard’s body.

“We need to follow them out of here!” The man grabbed Thomas’s head and forced his gaze away from the fleeing kids. “Look at it, man. The man hasn’t got a fucking head”

Several ragged pieces of bloodied, wet flesh attached to the man’s neck were all that remained of his head. A dark lake of blood slowly seeped out from under the fixture. Thomas couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mess; his brain could not process the images. He started when he felt a single digit prodding his side.

“What the fuck are they?”

He followed the man’s shaking finger and saw a dozen small creatures clambering along the top of the fixtures, leaping up and grabbing hold of the pipes fastened to the ceiling. Two of the things were holding what looked like footballs. It wasn’t until one of the footballs spun around and Thomas saw a face when he realised just what they were carrying.

“I must be dreaming.” Derek muttered. “This can’t be real.” He thrust his hands deep into his pockets. “Bollocks, I’ve left my phone in the car. We need to ring the police.”

Thomas nodded, he then turned to watch the creatures run across the top of the pipes, the vague idea that these things were some sort of rare monkey escaped from a zoo vanished when one of them stopped directly above the two men and hissed at them. “Okay, so the supermarket’s been invaded by flesh-eating leprechauns.” The creature scuttled away. “You’re not the only one who’s fucking dreaming, mate.” He got off the floor, averting his eyes from the mutilated body. Thomas looked down at the man; then helped him up. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The man sighed and nodded. Thomas then saw Derek’s eyes look over Thomas’s head. He pushed Thomas to the side and put wrapped his arms over his head. Thomas heard a high-pitched squeal and saw a flash of pale cream skin as one of the creatures jumped off the top shelf and landed on Derek’s face.

He growled and grabbed its body when it tried to crawl down the man’s chest, shuddering at the repulsive slug-like texture. Thomas ripped it off and slammed the creature into the edge of the shelf, feeling an enormous sense of triumph when its body went limp. He threw the disgusting animal onto the floor and wiped his hands down his clothes.

Thomas ran across to the other side of the aisle and pulled a wooden brush handle off the shelf. “Derek? Look at me, man.” When he turned his head, Thomas threw him the improvised weapon. “It isn’t a shotgun, but it’s better than nothing.” He pointed to the roof. “We won’t make it out of here unarmed.” Thomas grabbed one for himself.

The whole situation was just fucking not possible. He’d got out off his car and wandered into the twilight zone. Thomas watched one of the little bastards drop onto the face of another woman by the self-service checkout. She fell to the ground beating her head. It didn’t matter though, what did matter was just how close he’d been to bottling it. Thomas had almost died. He ran his closed hand along the smooth wooden pole. “No fucker is getting one over on me.” He hissed.

He watched the other man walk in the direction of the exit. “Derek. You’re going the wrong way.”

“No I’m not.”

Thomas turned and ran to the other end of the aisle. There were dozens of the things dropping down form the ceiling; they were mainly attacking the older people. He looked to see Derek was now behind him. “These folk need help, man and I can’t see anyone else stepping up to the task.” He raised the brush handle over his head and slammed it down on one of the creatures trying to hide behind a display of breakfast cereal. The boxes exploded, showering their contents across the shelves and the floor. He savagely grinned when as the thing made a sound like a dog’s chew toy.

“I got the little bastard.” He shouted. Thomas looked at the end of the brush it was now covered in thick red blood, lumps of hair and cornflakes. “These fuckers ain’t so tough.”

BOOK: Duplicity
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