The wind played merrily on the long stretch of London Road that led from Gallows Hill to Streatford, snapping and snarling at Jason as he strode head down, his fists balled up in the pockets of his worn leather jacket. Maybe he should have taken the back way, through the houses and coming out on Dulverton Road, but this was the better-lit route and the last thing he needed was some neighborhood watch fanatic reporting him for suspicious behavior. Even going this way, if he got stopped by a police car cruising on its rounds, he’d have a hard time explaining what he was doing heading into the village at eleven-thirty on a weekday night. But then, they probably wouldn’t bother stopping anyone but the likes of him. Even though he hadn’t been in trouble with the law for at least a couple of years now, memories died hard in Streatford. He knew that better than most.

  His breath hung in the air before him for a few moments before dancing off into the night, and his nose ached a little, letting him know that it was turning red. The rain of earlier had faded into a bitter chill, and the

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  idea that had been so great when it came to him an hour ago, now just seemed foolish. Just what the hell did he think he was doing anyway? He’d agreed with Rob that they’d leave it till tomorrow before they went to the house, so why had he decided to go down and take a look tonight? Suddenly, out in the cold, it didn’t make much sense.

  His lungs felt raw as he panted, and he quickened his pace in an attempt to warm up. As much as the cold made him question having left his flat, he knew that if he turned around and went back he’d remember well enough why he’d gone out in the first place. He was sick of sitting in that flat with nothing but booze for company, sick of thinking about the past. In fact, he was pretty much sick of thinking. It seemed that his brain had done nothing but turn over and over during the past couple of weeks. And anyway, he wasn’t intending to break into Syracousse or anything, he’d do that with Robster tomorrow night—hey, hey, it might even feel like old times—no, all he wanted to do now was take a look from the outside. Watch it for a while. What he expected to see, he didn’t know, but it had to be better than staying inside and going crazy. And he had a theory to check out.

  Sometime this afternoon, somewhere between his second Jack Daniels and his fifth, a thought had taken seed in his mind, and it had been growing there ever since. What if someone was in the house? Maybe Gina had come back. No one had been up there since the rape, so she easily could be there without anyone knowing. That solicitor bloke wouldn’t tell anyone, and if Gina were there, then maybe that would explain the shit that was happening. If she were this close, then maybe she could be doing it. Maybe she’d learned to control that weird power she had, maybe it had gotten stronger. So many maybes. And why the hell would Gina hole herself up in a house she’d abandoned for so many years? Even if she had come back to

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  her family home, why all the secrecy? It didn’t make sense, but then none of this craziness made sense.

  He reached the dark hulk of The Plough and noticed the welcoming bright lights were switched off, no after-hours drinking happening tonight; Jason crossed the deserted street and headed down the narrow alley leading to Horsefair Green. Within a few minutes he’d crossed the wet grass and took the leafy far turn onto Ousebank Way; Retirement Row, as it was known to those locals under forty. The streetlights were few and dim this far away from the village center, and they cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement of the wide street.

  By the time he reached the towpath across the tiny bridge, the darkness had swallowed him whole and he could barely see his feet as they moved beneath him. The walk having warmed him slightly, he unclenched his fists and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, the burning end giving off no light, saving its brightness for itself. Not that the dark bothered Jason. It never had. The dark always hid the things you should be afraid of, and anything that did that was all right by him.

  As he turned into the track leading down to the house, his stomach fluttered a little with excitement, and with the familiar crunch of gravel under his feet, for a few moments it seemed as if he was twelve again, heading down with his friends to the comfort at Syracousse. Why hadn’t he been down here in all these years? Why hadn’t he even come down to take a look?

  Throwing his cigarette butt down and grinding it out with his next step, he sniffed hard, listening to the deafening sound of his own breath, rough in his ears. This was no time to get sentimental. He hadn’t come down here because he couldn’t face the memories, didn’t want to face the memories. It was better to put them away and try to forget. And in the main he’d done that quite successfully,

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  despite the way they’d itched at the back of his mind, eager for attention. Yeah, he’d locked it all up: Syracousse, Rob, Carrie, Gina and even poor Teacher. He’d put them somewhere out of easy reach. Until the rape. Until Carrie. Until Robster came back.

  This was no time to get maudlin. He’d spend half an hour or so looking around, and then he’d head home. The adventure could wait till tomorrow night. Stupid though it sounded, he suddenly felt as if coming down here alone hadn’t been the best idea in the world; whoever had said there was safety in numbers had a point, and the idea of having Robster with him was a comforting thought. But then, he’d always felt good around Rob; he could admit that to himself out here in the open air with no one to hear it.

  Looking down in the gloom, he paused for a second, not sure whether to trust his eyes. It was pitch black under the overcast sky, but he could see his feet clearly. More than that, they seemed to be glowing, reflecting a blue-white light. Weird, too weird. Laughing slightly he looked up, puzzled as to where the light could be coming from. His breath caught in his throat as he stared, unable to take in what he was seeing. What could do that? What the fuck could do that?

  The house was in view up ahead of him and it seemed to be shimmering, radiating light like a beacon, as if it had swallowed the moon, and its brightness was seeping out through the tiny gaps in the brickwork and window frames. What the hell was going on? There was nothing natural about it, nothing at all, and he felt a chill run through him that had nothing at all to do with the cold air surrounding him.

  Standing there, his breath coming fast now, he knew it was time to go home, or better still, straight to Rob’s. They needed to talk about this, oh boy did they. Things were getting seriously freaky, but he had the feeling that at the same time they were getting clearer. Veils were lifting

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  in his mind. Carrie was right. They had gotten it wrong. His mind sparkled as if he’d been hit by a high-voltage shot of electricity. I’ve been asleep for such a long time. Thinking in a daze. Did it make me that way?

  ?You came down here, didn’t you, Carrie??he whispered aloud, still staring at his childhood refuge. ?You came down here just to make sure. I think you suspected all along.? He paused, a wave of grief flooding his system. ?Clever, clever girl.?

  He was about to turn, to turn and get the hell out of there, when something up ahead caught his eye. The small shape was visible by its absence, a patch of moving blackness surrounded by a halo of light, and he squinted, taking a few steps forward, his curiosity overcoming his eagerness to get away. It was too big to be a fox or a stray sheep and anyway, it was moving all wrong for an animal. It’s moving like a child. His feet started to walk faster, his synapses sending panic signals of realization to them before the thought found its way into words, flashing in his mind. It is a child. What the hell is a child doing out here in the middle of the night? The bobbing figure disappeared into an enormous shadow thrown down across the track like a huge black cape, and Jason broke into a sprint, all thoughts of home or Rob vanished in a second. It’s the old oak tree, that’s where she is. The old oak tree by the gate. Oh shit, she’s going into the house, please God don’t let her go into the house …

  ?Wait!?he shouted, as his sneakers threw gravel up behind him. ?Wait! Don’t go in there! It’s not safe! It’s not safe!?

  Clutching Mr. Pickles so tightly to her chest that she was sure he would be squashed forever, Tabby kept her eyes fixed on the brightness ahead of her. The coldness had seeped up through her slippers from the ground, her socks damp and icy next to her soles, and the big toe of her left foot throbbed painfully from where she had

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  stumbled a hundred yards or so back. She didn’t look down though, afraid that if she did, the light would leave her, and that thought terrified her more than the threat of a broken ankle or a bruised toe.

  She’d been so scared walking down here in the night, so scared she could barely breathe. She’d never walked anywhere on her own before, and even with her bear and the music inside her that’s how she’d felt, all alone in the terrible blackness that was eating her body up like it had the trees and the pretty fields and the river, replacing them with something else she couldn’t see, something horrible that lived in the darkness, stretching out for ever and ever, licking its lips and watching.

  Despite the reassurance of her invisible friend, when she’d been halfway down the gravel track she’d almost turned and fled, back to her house if she could find it, or back to anyplace where there was light to scare away the monsters. Then all of a sudden, when the panic was about to explode inside her, there it was, right there ahead of her. The house. Her house; all lit up to show her the way, waiting for her to get there. Oh, it was so beautiful, glittering and sparkling as she got closer and closer—so much prettier than in the dreams—but although the sight of it had calmed her down a little, she still wished it were daytime, bright and sunny and friendly. But at last she was nearly there, just a few more yards to go and then she’d be safe. Safe from everything.

  Hearing the man shouting behind her, Tabby let out a short yelp and whirled round, her heart bursting through her ribcage with fright. Not so far away someone was running at her, running quickly, screaming at her, a huge moving shape, lunging forward. It’s the monster. It’s escaped from the dark. The monster’s hungry, and he’s coming for me. Turning back, scared to take her eyes from the thing following her, but wanting to get to the house—get to the gate, that’s what the tune was playing, get to the

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  gate—she hurried onward, wishing her numbed feet could go faster, small, terrified tears forming in the corners of her eyes, blurring her limited vision.

  Brushing through the thin branches that felt like old ladies’ arms clutching at her, tugging at her hair, she reached for the wood of the gate and grabbed it with one tiny hand, the other holding Mr. Pickles secure. She pushed the gate forward and it swung open, as the sound of footsteps hammered the gravel so much nearer now. A silvery haze hung over the step across, separating her from the house, as if a barrier of water was reaching up from the ground, fluid and bright, not quite allowing a view through it. Tabby stared, unsure, not knowing whether to step through, but the monster was almost on her. She sobbed aloud, her fear confusing her.

  Don’t be afraid, Tabby. Come on in. I’m waiting for you.

  And the monster’s nearly here.

  The tree behind her rustled, and she could hear the raw breathing behind her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she jumped forward, passing through the warm, tickling air of the wall and into the glorious sunshine beyond, safe from the grasping touch she’d felt on the back of her jacket.

  Can’t let her go into the house, can’t let her get there … The little girl was so close that he could make out the yellow ears of the bear she was clinging to and the long curls that hung loose from her head. She pushed open the gate and seemed to hesitate there for a moment. That’s it, baby, stay there, please stay there. His breath ripped his lungs as he pushed himself, no energy left for yelling, through the old oak tree that seemed eager to hold him back. She was so close, so close, and he could almost feel her lifting one tiny foot, a toddler’s innocent foot, as she moved toward the insane light. Lunging forward, his jump simultaneous with hers, he reached out to grab her,

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  feeling the soft material of her jacket slipping past his treacherous fingers, and then she was gone, vanished into the garden, through the liquid air protecting it.

  Alone and exhausted in the gateway, sweat freezing against him beneath his clothes, Jason let out a wail of frustration as the blue-white light sucked itself back into the house again, taking the child with it.

  For a moment there was only the blinding darkness again as he stood, his soul empty, on the threshold of the gate he’d crossed so many times as a child, the wonder he had felt then replaced now with vehement hatred, as he stared at the building, the bricks and mortar as much a part of his life as his own flesh and blood. As he raged inside, at himself, at Syracousse, at all the memories, the air around him changed, charging itself up with electricity, crackling with it.

  The wind howled around him, whipping him painfully. What now? What the fuck now? Not sure how much more he could take, Jason watched with disbelief as the image of the house began to distort. It’s like a trapped bubble of air under the water. The blue light’s going to bubble outward. That’s what it’s doing. It’s getting ready to attack.

  The words were clear in his head, but he stood there frozen, unable to tear himself away. There was a rumbling deep in the ground as the bubble exploded, the energy surging outward like the Shockwave of a nuclear blast; powerful, angry and full of vengeance.

  He managed a weak ?Oh shit?before the power wave hit him, lifting him roughly from his feet, sending him tumbling through the air, and away from the house. I should have waited. I should have waited for Robster … He hit the gravel with a sickening crunch and pain exploded all over his body for a brief glorious moment of life, before the world went black from the inside. The only thing he was grateful for, in those last agonizing

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  seconds, was that he was facing away from Syracousse. He didn’t want to die with it in his eyes. But then, he thought as the darkness took over, he didn’t really want to die at all.

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  It was nearly nine when Rob reached for the phone to call Michael. He’d been up about an hour, clearing away from the night before, playing the evening’s events over in his head like a lovesick kid. At least thinking about making love with Kelly was a lot more pleasant than trying to make sense of the madness that was going on around him, but he had the rest of the day to ponder over that, and at the moment he was just enjoying the memory of soft skin and a passion that had surprised him. Yeah, she was special; there was no doubt about that. And what’s she going to think of you if you get caught breaking and entering tonight? How are you going to explain that? He shrugged the thought off like an itchy sweater, irritating to the touch.

  In the broad light of day, after such a fantastic night, he was in half a mind to cancel with Jason. It was a crazy idea, and he was getting too old for that kind of shit; they both were. All he wanted to do tonight was meet up with Kelly again, and he couldn’t see what could be gained by traipsing around that abandoned house, freezing their

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  arses off, when he could be curled up with a beautiful, fascinating woman.

  He’d dialed his agent’s number before he realized the line was empty of sound, and after a brief moment of confusion, remembered that he hadn’t plugged the phone back in before going to bed last night. He smiled, laughing slightly. What would Kelly have made of that? No doubt she’d have figured it was some kind of slimy ?not wanting to be disturbed while getting my action? move common amongst the male of the species, and he’d been guilty of using that one on occasions in the past. But not this time. This time, he just hadn’t wanted Jason throwing a spanner in the works by calling him with more tales of the unexpected.

  Sliding the connector into the socket in the hallway, the immediate ringing made him jump. Maybe Michael was getting telepathic. His heart beat quicker. Or maybe it was Gina. Hurrying back to the kitchen, he reached across the breakfast bar for the receiver.

  ?Hello??

  ?Thank God you’re there, I’ve been ringing all night. I even came around and knocked on the door, but I didn’t get an answer. I need to know if you saw anything strange on your way home last night, anything at all. Maybe just someone looking suspicious. Tabby’s gone missing, and we don’t know where she is or if anyone’s taken her.?

  It took him a couple of seconds before he realized the rambling, disjointed voice on the other end belonged to Jack Hollingsworth. He sounded exhausted and he wasn’t making much sense, but alarm bells started ringing in Rob’s head with the mention of the little girl he had yet to meet.

  ?Slow down, Jack.?He kept his own voice as calm as possible. ?Did you say Tabby’s gone missing??

  ?Yes.?The old man’s voice seemed anchored to the weight of that word of acceptance, as if it were dragging him down with it.

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  ?I’ll be there in five minutes.?Slamming the phone into

  its holder, he grabbed his jacket from the kitchen door, shoved his cigarettes and keys into his pockets, and was

  out of the house before he’d gotten his arms through the sleeves.

  The cold air conflicted with the heat inside him as he ran down Dulverton Road toward the crossroads, the muscles in his legs aching as they warmed up, but he ignored them. He had a crazy feeling inside telling him that somehow all this was his fault, that he was contaminated with something bad, and now it was taking its revenge on him for having the gall to think that he could be happy. Not stopping to check for traffic, he darted across London Road and headed into Horsefair Green, ignoring the swearing and strange looks from passers-by as he barged through them. His run eased up to a walk as the police car came into view, making Jack’s message a reality. Oh Christ, Tabby really had gone missing.