Hungry Moon (34 page)

^{It looked composed of pale light. Its wings shone brightest, blurred wings that kept it hovering. Craig couldn't see its eyes or what kind of beak it had. It was luminous with moonlight, he realized, or with the light he'd seen in the corridor at the top of the hotel. The realization clutched at his throat, held him speechless, and then he heard Benedict start the engine. 'What are you doing?' he managed to croak.}

^{The van moved forward, and the bird flew ahead, the large bright feathers of its wings coming into focus. 'Following,' Benedict said.}

^{The awe in his voice dismayed Craig so much that he could hardly breathe or speak. 'What do you think you're following?' he whispered.}

^{'Can't you see?'}

^{'It isn't what you think it is.' Craig managed to organize his shivery limbs enough to grab Benedict's arm and hang on as the man tried to steer. 'Don't trust it. It's a trap, it's evil if anything is. Let's just stop and wait until the moon comes up again.'}

^{Benedict pulled his arm free. 'If you can't see it for what it is, I pity you. Thank God some of us have faith.'}

^{Hazel leaned over Craig's shoulder. 'It's a sign from God, Daddy,' she told him, almost pleading.}

^{The van was gathering speed. Craig could just see Vera now, her face dimly outlined by the glow ahead. Her face looked old and dull, wanting to hope. The bird glided faster, the lit patch of tarmac receded. 'You don't even know which way we're going, do you?' Craig shouted at Benedict. 'You don't know which way the van was facing any more than I do.'}

^{'The difference between us,' Benedict said with measured gentleness, 'is that I have faith.'}

^{Craig felt brittle with panic. He imagined being carried helplessly onward by Benedict's faith until they reached wherever the bird that shone like the thing in Mann's room wanted them. He fumbled for the door handle. T won't go with you. Stop the van or I'll jump.'}

^{'Don't be preposterous. Just sit quietly and trust me. Everything's under control.'}

^{Craig opened the door loudly. 'Stop it right now,' he almost screamed, 'or I'm jumping.'}

^{He was never sure what Benedict tried to do then. The van jerked to a halt, then surged forward at once. Perhaps Benedict meant the door to slam and lock itself, but it slid all the way open and stuck. The lurch of the van hurled Craig out of his seat, out of the van into the dark.}

^{That's all, then, he thought with a numb resignation as he fell. He hadn't even had time for a last word to Vera. Then he struck the edge of the ditch. The impact made him feel his lungs had burst, and drove a spike of agony deep into him from his ribs. One hand that seemed to be all his brain could control clutched at the edge of the ditch and dragged him onto the verge, where he lay watching the van.}

^{At first he thought it wasn't going to stop. Then it bucked to a standstill, and the women clambered out, silhouetted against the hovering glow. 'Where are you, Craig?' Vera cried. 'Say you're all right, don't frighten me.'}

^{'I'm here. I'm alive.' Craig raised himself on his tottering arms, and managed to sit on the edge of the ditch, squeezing his eyes shut while the pain in his ribs subsided. 'But I'm not going anywhere in that van,' he said through clenched teeth.}

^{Hazel touched him gently here and there, felt him wince. 'You're hurt,' she said plaintively. 'Let Benedict drive you. You'll be all right, I promise. You said yourself you should go to the hospital.'}

^{"That thing won't lead .us to any hospital.' Craig was suddenly almost in tears because of her concern for him. 'Look, don't worry about me, I can walk. I'll just wait here until the moon comes up.'}

^{Vera knelt down by him. 'Won't you come even for me? You can't stay out here in the dark.'}

^{'I'll be safer here than going after that thing,' Craig said doggedly. 'We all will.'}

^{Benedict climbed out of the van and peered back toward them. Beyond him the bird hovered, its fat body absolutely still between two fans of light. Craig saw its beak like a long sharp icicle, and was almost sure the bird had no eyes. 'Come on, old chap, don't mess us all about,' Benedict called. 'You're scaring the women and wasting time. Act your age, for goodness' sake.'}

^{Vera clutched her forehead as Craig withdrew stubbornly into himself. 'Go on, Hazel,' she said indistinctly. 'I'll stay with your father. You two look after yourselves.'}

^{'We can't leave them out here, Benedict,' Hazel cried.}

^{'That's up to them, my dear. We prayed and we were given a sign, and turning our backs on that would be turning our backs on God. All I ask is that everyone make up their minds now about whether they're coming, because I'm not prepared to test God any further.'}

^{He stood gazing toward them for a few minutes, hands on hips. When they didn't answer, he turned sharply and strode back to the van. They heard his door slide shut, and then Hazel took a step away from her parents. 'I can't let him go by himself when he doesn't know where he's going.'}

^{'Go with him, child. We'll keep each other safe,' Vera blurted. As Hazel ran to the vehicle, her mother half rose from kneeling as if she would stop her; then she sank back beside Craig. Hazel's door slammed, and the van started at once. They watched as the vehicle sped after the shining bird, watched the bird shrink and vanish over the next ridge, and then the dark closed in.}

^{FIFTY SIX}

^{Eventually Andrew's mother said she was going next door to see how the old lady was, but he thought she wanted to get away from the smell. As soon as they'd come home from praying in the square, his mother had begun to sniff suspiciously and poke about under the furniture with a broom handle. 'What's died in here?' she'd demanded, glaring at her husband as if she blamed him for distracting her from finding out what was wrong with Miss Crane next door. She'd opened the windows to try to get rid of the smell and to gaze at the old lady's moonlit cottage. 'She's the kind who'd get to church even if she had no legs,' she'd said, but she hadn't seen the old lady in the square, nor on their way home. 'I don't like it. I'm going to see what's wrong.'}

^{Andrew's father and Miss Ingham followed her out. Andrew stayed in the living room, even though the cottage made him think of the reptile house at the zoo, the dim, cold, stony place that stank of things that lived in the dark. His mother hadn't liked that place at all: she'd hurried him out before they could injure themselves or have their pockets picked or suffer something worse that she'd refused to specify. He remembered being pushed out into the daylight, the warmth of the sun on his face, but that seemed longer ago than all the days of his life.}

^{'Go and get a ladder,' his mother called, so shrilly that Andrew thought she disliked asking his father to help. The boy went to stand by Miss Ingham on the garden path. His father was loping around the old lady's cottage when a man with 'Jesus' stitched on his breast pocket came looking for Miss Ingham. 'The teacher you replaced has had some kind of fit. She's in a coma at the postman's house. It was her own doing, you understand, in case anyone tries to say otherwise.'}

^{His father reappeared. 'Miss Crane's in there but she isn't answering. No need for a ladder,' he said, and lunged at the door of her cottage.}

^{As he passed into the moonlight that slanted across the garden path, he looked suddenly more powerful, crouching in a way that Andrew had never seen him crouch. He looked bulkier than usual, gathered together to spring. When he slammed into the door, it gave way at once.}

^{'You stay here,' Andrew's mother said, as if this wasn't fit for men to see. 'Miss Crane,' she called as she ventured in. Soon she fell silent, and then came out quickly, flapping her hand in front of her face. 'Dead. Starved to death, it looks like,' she said, and glared at Andrew for overhearing.}

^{'I'll get a doctor if someone tells me where to go,' said the man with 'Jesus' on his pocket.}

^{'I'll take you,' Andrew's mother said, and looked hard at his father. 'Make sure the boy stays away from her house.'}

^{Andrew wouldn't have dared go near, even though he wondered what the old lady looked like now; he'd never seen anyone dead. He scurried after Miss Ingham into his house. His father stared at the old lady's cottage, licking his lips; then he came after them. In the living room, where at least the dark had the shape of the furniture, Andrew managed to speak up. 'Daddy, what's a coma?'}

^{'What?' his father growled as if he'd been interrupted. 'It's like going to sleep and not being able to wake up.'}

^{'Miss Kramer's in one,' Miss Ingham explained. 'We should pray for her. Always pray for sinners, Andrew. They need our prayers most of all.'}

^{Andrew fell on his knees at once, clenching his eyelids to make the prayer stronger. He thought of Miss Kramer, waiting like Sleeping Beauty to be awakened. If only he could be the prince, he thought, or his father could be if that would help. Then he forgot to pray and almost gasped aloud, for he'd realized what they could do.}

^{'Amen,' Miss Ingham said, and stood up. 'That poor old lady,' she murmured. 'I wonder if there are any more like her, starving away.'}

^{'I wouldn't be surprised,' Andrew's father said thickly.}

^{'What I ought to do is organize some people to go round the town and check.'}

^{'Go ahead if you want to,' Andrew's father said in an odd, light voice. 'We'll be all right on our own.'}

^{'I expect you will,' Miss Ingham said, peering at him in the dimness. He's just my daddy, Andrew thought, he'll be all right if you leave him alone, you wait and see what he can do when people don't treat him like an ogre. . . .}

^{She made for the door, but glanced back. 'I won't be long,' she said, almost like a warning.}

^{As soon as the garden gate clanged behind her, Andrew said, 'Daddy, why don't we help Miss Kramer?'}

^{'I'm not a doctor, son.'}

^{'I know you aren't,' Andrew said, giggling at the thought, at his father's funny new voice. 'But you could carry her to Mr Mann, couldn't you? He'd make her better. People as good as him are supposed to be able to.'}

^{His father made a muffled sound. 'You're a good lad, but it's no use. I don't even know where she is.'}

^{'She's at the postman's house.'}

^{'Is she now.' His father seemed to crouch down as if he were trying to hide in the dark, and then he rose to his full height: for a moment it looked to Andrew as if invisible strings were hauling him up. 'Well then, I'd better see what I can do,' he said in that pale voice. 'You stay here where it's safe. Someone'U be back before long.'}

^{'I don't want to,' Andrew cried in panic.}

^{'Can't you be left even for a few minutes? Stop that wailing, you sound like a whelp. Just you keep your trap shut once we're outside or I'll send you back home by yourself.'}

^{Andrew didn't mind his roughness: it made his father sound more like his father. He held his father's hand tight as they stepped into the glimmering street. Most of the light was coming from the hotel now. The idea of Mr Mann shining like a saint in a picture made Andrew's throat grow dry, and so did the lizardy smell that seemed to have followed them out of the cottage. He was glad they were hurrying toward the square; they wouldn't be so close to the dark and whatever might be swarming there. Or had the light driven those things back into the cave? Of course, that must be why God had made Mr Mann light up.}

^{His father halted suddenly, in sight of Mr Mann's window, his eyes white as marbles. 'Look, son, I'd rather you stayed home. You'll only be in the way.'}

^{More than being abandoned, leaving his father alone in the dark terrified the boy. 'I won't. You said I could come. I'll be quiet, I promise, only don't make me go home.'}

^{His father turned his head and looked down at him. It must be shadow that made Andrew unable to see his face properly. His father tightened his grip and dragged him across the square, and Andrew kept his gaze on the blur of a face, rather than look at his father's shadow, which grew a long head and gangling limbs as they left the hotel behind. It was his father's face, even if it seemed to be reaching forward with eagerness to save the sleeping beauty. The dark and the reptilian smell closed around them, and the boy almost cried out with relief when they came to the postman's lane.}

^{'I'll knock, shall I, Daddy?' He pulled his hand free of his father's and ran ahead, rubbing his hand on his trousers to get rid of the cold, slimy feel that was only sweat, he told himself. He dodged into the postman's garden and grabbed the chilly knocker on the door. His hand was so slippery that he could hardly knock.}

^{The postman looked out of the front room, then came quickly to the door. 'What's up, Andrew? Are you on your own?'}

^{'I'm with my daddy. We've come to take Miss Kramer to the hotel so Mr Mann can make her better.'}

^{'I don't know about that, son.' The postman peered warily past Andrew. 'We're going to take her to the hospital when there's enough light.'}

^{'No need for that.' Andrew's father pushed past the boy, who shivered without knowing why. 'Godwin's what she needs,' his father said.}

^{'No it isn't,' a man's voice called from inside the cottage. 'Anything but. It's the last thing she'd want, Eustace.'}

^{'Thanks anyway,' the postman said, and began to close the door. Andrew saw his father crouch. He was going to knock the door aside, like Miss Crane's - and then the boy realized that his father wasn't merely gathering himself, for he heard the seams of his father's jacket tear, no longer able to contain his father. 'Don't, Daddy,' he screamed, hardly aware of what he was saying. 'Let's go home.'}