Influence (16 page)

Sully’s
words from Kara’s mouth hit Lizzie like a hammer blow to her heart, and it was
all she could do to stay on her feet. The assembled crowd laughed amongst
themselves and Void even shared a chuckle with Kara, until he looked round for
Lizzie and saw the horror etched upon her face. Void stopped laughing instantly,
confused at Lizzie’s reaction. His gaze and concern spread quickly and before
she knew it the room had gone deathly quiet, every eye was on her. Void started
to walk toward her, a few others closed in too.

The door
was now open, Lizzie noted, the panic in her heart gripped her, threatened to
cripple her, Lizzie’s world was blurring, all reservation left her and she ran,
one of the group pushed out a hand as she reached the doorway, she batted it
away, and she ran.

Lizzie took
the stairs two at a time, mostly guessing where to plant her feet in the near darkness.
She stumbled just as she reached the top of the spiral stairs and crashed her
shin painfully against the edge of the top-most step. She hobbled as she waited
for the worst of the pain to pass, and checked behind her as she tried to
recall her path into that place but only darkness chased her. By the time she
found herself in the courtyard once again her stride had returned. A heavy rain
pounded the cobbles beneath her feet. She headed straight for the exit but saw
the old man rise from his seat as she did, he stepped out of his booth and
Lizzie was sure he was about to try to stop her. She was preparing to throw her
weight into him when he stepped back realising she had no intention to slow up.
’You alright young un?’ Lizzie burst through the small door ignoring the man’s
question.

She thought
she might be able to retrace her route back to the Tavern, but didn’t think
that was the quickest way back to the train station. She stopped briefly and
tried to force herself to think, but when she heard the old man’s voice back in
the courtyard talking to someone else she flew once more, relying on luck
rather than judgement. Distance, she thought, just get some distance and work
it out later. She took lefts and rights arbitrarily, she was no athlete and her
run soon became a jog, a hastened walk and by the time she found herself in a
busier part of town she had to stop.

She checked
around her as she leaned her back against the wall of a shop, closed for the
evening the eaves sheltered her from the deluge. Hands on knees she tried to
catch her breath, her head swam as she gulped in oxygen. Saltwater ran down her
face, sweat mixed with rain. Her clothes clung to her like cellophane. A couple
of concerned faces glanced her way but only fleetingly as their more immediate
worry of getting out of the rain took precedence. She scanned the street up and
down looking, both, for something she recognised and for any sign of having
been followed but those few people hurrying this way and that under
outstretched jackets or umbrellas were not looking for her. Perhaps in daylight
and without sheets of rain battering the stone she might have been able to
place herself, to gain some bearing and make an informed decision, but as it
was she had to settle for best guess.

As Lizzie’s
heart returned to something resembling a normal rhythm, she decided to press
on, but something out of the corner of her eye made her pause. She flicked her
head round and stared down the street which curved gently, she saw a figure
standing there motionless. She tried to focus through the rain, and stepped out
from her shelter back into the downpour to help her see better round the curve,
nothing. Whatever it was, if indeed it was anything at all, it was not there
now. It had, however, made the decision of her route easy and she walked now up
the street in the opposite direction.

She pulled
her clothes around her in a futile attempt to fend off the weather. She debated
whether or not to ask for directions but decided just to keep walking, sure
something familiar was around the next corner or the next again. She checked
over her shoulder intermittently but it seemed clear. Her mind raced as she
marched on. Sully was a professor at Oxford, she knew that but head of some
cult or secret society or devil worshiping adolescents? She couldn’t believe
it, would not. Maybe whoever this
Curate
was just happened to use the
same cheesy turn of phrase, or maybe he was a student of Sully’s? And what the
hell had happened in that place? One minute she was scared to death, the next
she was chanting away with the rest of them and something had come over her,
something horrible, something amazing.

She knew
where she was now, maybe. A few of the shops certainly seemed familiar and if
she was where she thought she might be the train station was still a good ten
minutes walk, and shit, what time was it? She continued on somewhere between a
walk and a jog which did not seem strange since everyone else hurried around to
be out of the rain. The wide street she had been walking along narrowed and
then came to an end giving two right angled options. She judged, or guessed,
that the left hand lane took her back towards the main road away from the
pedestrian zone. However as she set off down the new path she almost instantly
stopped, so abruptly that her feet scuffed and slipped on the cobbles, she kept
her footing, just.  She stared down the dark alleyway, someone stood there,
unmoving. She waited for the figure to show some sign of life, but it remained
statue like. She couldn’t tell if this was the same figure she thought she had
seen earlier but her heart was full of dread. She backed up slowly, keeping her
eyes on the dark silhouette.

It started
to move.

It came
towards her, perhaps thirty or so feet between them. Lizzie didn’t hesitate,
she turned and ran but as she did so she saw the figure out the corner of her
eye breaking into a run also.

The
pounding rain played tricks on the ear. She couldn’t be sure if it was the feet
of her pursuer she could hear or just the relentless drum of water but
regardless she ran and did not stop.

A sharp
turn made her slow up to prevent her slamming into the side of a building. Just
as she righted herself and leaned forward into her running stride she felt
something glance off her shoulder, a hand?

She knew
for sure now where she was and where she had to go. The sound of traffic became
clearer and clearer. When the busy road came into sight she didn’t stop. She
adjusted her feet slightly with a skip while she picked a gap between cars
travelling at deadly pace. Headlights, rain, a blaring horn and the dreadful
noise of wheel rubber losing traction on the road surface. She ran anticipating
impact, but it did not come.

Once clear
of the road she allowed herself a look behind. No pursuer. A line of static
cars littered the road, all pointing at awkward angles. She hoped nobody had
been hurt, unless of course whoever had been on her tail was now under the
wheels of one of the vehicles. Her hands shook violently throwing off water in
large droplets. She sucked in air hard and fast and felt like she might be
sick. Saliva rushed into her mouth and a single heave produced nothing. It
seemed to settle her though and she could walk.

The train
station came into view and Lizzie took the stairs up to the main doors feeling
her thighs burn. She felt relief when the large clock told her it was quarter
to eleven, she hadn’t missed the last train. She checked the digital board for
her platform and her relief was murdered. She read

“CANCELLED
DUE TO LOCAL FLOODING – RBS IN PLACE”

‘What the
fuck?’ she said feeling like she could weep.

‘Problem
sweetheart?’ a man in a blue and orange jacket walked over to her.

‘Aye,
another replasy bus service?’ she managed between breaths. This was not an
uncommon occurrence. The merest suggestion of snow or, God forbid, a leaf or
two on the track and the whole system came apart like a dropped vase.

‘Afraid so
dear, it’s a nuisance I know. And you’ll have to be quick, leaves from Magdalen
Street in fifteen minutes. Sorry.’

It wasn’t a
far walk, and she had been made to do this before but the thought of going back
out there made her stomach want to heave again.

She stood
at the entrance doors of the station elevated above the street and used the
improved view to look carefully for danger. She had considered asking the
station attendant to call the Police, but what would she tell them? How could
she explain without having to give them the full story including the impossible
events in the library? She just wanted to get home and she didn’t want to
involve Janice, not if she could help it.

Coast clear
she set off. The rain was less heavy but still determined. As much as she was
able she walked next to others. She latched onto a group of noisy students who
argued about the best place to get a last drink this time of night, having
apparently been ejected from the last place. Certainly more alcohol was
probably the last thing a few of them needed, particularly one female whose
toes scraped limply off the pavement as two of her male companions carried her
between them. They were heading in Lizzie’s direction and she kept pace with
them, just far enough behind to ensure the group were oblivious to her
hitchhiking but close enough that anyone looking on would assume she was a
fellow reveller.

Lizzie kept
a watchful eye out and scanned the pavement ahead and behind. Once or twice the
group stopped to pick up pieces of dropped clothing or to allow one of the boys
to make use of a dark pissing opportunity and Lizzie would have to react
quickly to avoid detection, the boots she wore had no laces but she stopped to
tie them anyway at such occurrences. It was during one such mime that she
caught sight of him again, perhaps. A large figure, obscured by passing traffic
walked slowly down the pavement on the far side of the road. His lumbering
frame and his apparent frantic searching of the area left Lizzie in little
doubt. She tucked into the body of the group, sure of being noticed and
confronted, but to her surprise they either failed to realise or just didn’t
care. She vigilantly kept to the side of the group which protected her from
view, but it swelled and stretched like a drunken school of fish and she resisted
the temptation to abandon them and run. The crowd reached their destination and
as the first few entered the pub she was forced to decide quickly. She checked
around, but saw no sign of the figure but fear gripped her and she followed the
students into the building.

She
detached from them as they entered taking a seat by the window as the rest made
their way to the bar. It was a dark, slightly dingy little place. Lizzie had
heard Janice and Maggie talk about old man pubs disparagingly and she
considered that if you looked up the term in an encyclopaedia it might well
display a picture of this place. She looked out of the window watching people
pass, the rain fell as a drizzle now and ran down the glass turning the world
into a kaleidoscope of blurred lines and flared colours.

There was no
sign of him.

An
increasingly angry argument at the bar caught her attention.

‘I could
lose my licence, I can’t serve you if you’re drunk,’ a bearded bar tender stood
arms folded in defiance of the students.

‘That’s the
most ridiculous thing I ever heard,’ one boy spat at him, ‘and I’m not THAT
drunk.’

‘Come on
just the one, we’ll be good Mr Bartender you have our most solemnest promises,’
another boy offered, attempting a less aggressive approach. He held his hands
up in a prayer like clasp, which was his undoing as he had had to relinquish
his grip on the girl he had been carrying who toppled backwards in a perfect
slapstick thud. The barman said nothing, he looked at the students, arms still
folded and raised his eyebrows in an
I rest my case
way. All hope of
refreshment abandoned, the students picked up their fallen comrade and left.
The barman watched them go and caught sight of Lizzie as he did. His eyebrows
dropped to a furrow and Lizzie looked away attempting to blend into the mottled
and gaffa-tape repaired couch on which she sat. She checked the outside world
again watching the crowd go, she waited to see if they were going to continue
in her direction but when they headed back the way they had come Lizzie
remained seated.

‘Fetch
something for you miss?’ the barman stood before her. She could tell by the
look on his face that her refuge was about to be taken from her.

‘Just a
Coke thanks,’ her lucid, clearly sober request came as a bit of a surprise to
him.

‘Didn’t you
come in with that lot?’

‘Just
coincidence,’ the barman made to return to his bar, but turned back taking a
closer look at Lizzie.

‘How old
are you?’

‘Eighteen.’

‘And you
have ID of course?’

‘It’s just
a Coke.’

‘Yes, but
problem is I can’t serve-‘

‘Just a
coke,’ she repeated ‘then I’m gone. Please.’ There was something in her tone
that swayed him and something in her face. He returned with the red can and a
less than clean glass.

‘Thanks,
how much?’

‘Just have
it, and be gone when you’re done okay?’

‘Alright.
Thanks. You don’t have a payphone do you?’ She thought it was time to call
Janice.

‘There’s
one outside the gents, it’s a phone-card only.’

‘Do you
sell them?’

‘Nope,
sorry,’ the barman walked off.

Lizzie
sipped from the can, ignoring the glass. She looked around the bar for the time
and found a clock hung behind the bar – almost ten past eleven. Whatever she
was going to do it would have to happen now. She scanned the street through the
rain streaked window once more and left.

The
pavements were busier now with people ejected from their watering holes. Lizzie
walked quickly, but did not run, this seemed to her to be the best way to
progress without drawing undue attention. The students had taken her a little
off course but she was confident she knew where she had to go to get to
Magdalen Street. She stopped at the corner of one street, it was darker and
less populated than the well-lit street she stood on but this, she was sure,
was the quickest way to get back on track. She took a cursory glance in every
direction and set off. Her hands still shook and she tucked them under her arms
for warmth and to be rid of the annoyance of them.