Charlotte Sadler was glad she’d packed her waterproof phone case. The rain was coming down hard, the trees creaking ominously in the wind. She was soaked, she was cold, but boy, was she happy.
This was brilliant. Talk about atmosphere. She couldn’t have planned it better. Finding the right spot, she held the phone in front of her and adjusted the monopod so she was in shot. Checking that the night vision filter was on, she cleared her throat and hit record.
‘Welcome to Boggle Woods,’ Charlotte began in a stage whisper, a lapel mic clipped discretely to her dark bomber jacket. ‘It is quite literally a dark and stormy night. No one in their right mind would be out here in these conditions, but hey, you’re watching Cryptogal-UK. What do you expect?’
As introductions go, it was a bit corny, but she’d go with it for now. She could always edit in something new. Keeping her eyes on the camera, Charlotte took a tentative step forwards, walking the path she’d scoped out earlier.
‘This is going to be my best video yet, I guarantee it. I’m in Shining Man country. Yes, you’ve seen the videos, you’ve seen the photos, coming in from all over Britain … from all over the world … But nowhere have there been more sightings than here – Huckensall, near Manchester. This is Ground Zero, people, where it all began.’
She slipped, nearly losing her footing. She grabbed a branch, stopping herself from falling. That would play out well on screen, ramping up the tension.
‘Sorry about that. As you can see; it’s a little slippy underfoot.’ She showed the camera the wet leaves on the floor. ‘And, before you ask, I’m not talking about creeps in cosplay, but the real deal. Actual Shining Men, looming out of the dark.’
That was bordering on melodramatic, but her fans liked it when she went a bit Hammer Horror; the geekier ones, at least.
With the camera back on her face, she adjusted the head torch on her trademark beanie and wiped water from her eyes before continuing.
‘I’m going to take you right into the heart of the wood.’ She made a show of glancing over her shoulder, as if she’d heard something. She looked back to camera and gave her best nervous smile. ‘I have to admit; I don’t like it out here. It’s a spooky place at the best of times and, as you can see by the weather, this definitely isn’t the best of times. But that’s fine. I know you’re all with me in spirit, so let’s go.’
Charlotte tapped the screen, flipping the camera forward to record the path ahead. Speaking in hushed tones, she brought the viewers up to date with the Shining Man phenomenon, recommending her other videos if they wanted to find out more. She’d add links later in the edit.
After a while she fell silent, the camera recording her progress. Most of this would get cut, but she had to keep the camera running, just in case. If something was going to happen, she hoped it would be soon. While all this would make a great vlog, the rain was already seeping through her jacket. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so cold.
Charlotte stopped. ‘What was that?’ she asked the phone, panning the camera around.
There had been a sound up ahead, a weird electronic chattering; quiet at first, but soon joined by a wheezing, grinding bellow that rose to a crescendo. She’d never heard anything like it.
She broke into a run, charging towards the noise. There was a light as well, a pulsing glow that flashed in time with the raucous growl; on and off, on and off, sending shadows skittering through the trees.
She skidded into a small clearing just as the light and sound show came to an abrupt conclusion with a tremulous, thundering thump.
The wood was silent again, the only sound the patter of the rain that fell on the large box that hadn’t been there this afternoon when she’d explored Huckensall for filming locations.
It was tall, roughly the height of a telephone box and made of wood, painted dark blue. White light streamed from windows mounted at eye level. Charlotte peeked in, but couldn’t see anything through the frosted glass.
Stepping back, she circled the box, sweeping her phone up and down so the camera could take in the square panels beneath the windows.
‘OK guys, this is bizarre,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know where this box has come from, or even what it is. It certainly wasn’t here earlier today.’ She pitched the camera up to make out words that were printed white on black above the windows. ‘Police Public Call Box, whatever that is. Some kind of mobile HQ? Seems a little pokey.’
She reached out, brushing her fingers against the wood, only to snatch them away again. ‘It’s vibrating … like an electric current was running through it. What kind of wood can be electrified?’
There was a set of doors, with a handle. ‘Well,’ she said, summoning up the courage. ‘Only one way to find out what’s inside …’
She yanked at the handle. It wouldn’t budge.
‘Locked,’ she told the camera. ‘But there’s a smaller handle here.’ She read the words printed on a white panel for the benefit of her viewers. ‘Pull To Open. Police Telephone. Free for use of Public. Well, I’m a member of the public, so …’
She pulled open the panel to reveal an old-fashioned telephone nestled in a small cupboard.
‘Hey,’ said a voice inside the box. Charlotte sprang back as the door unlocked and was yanked opened from within. ‘Don’t do that!’
It was a man in his fifties with a heavily lined face, a crop of grey hair and steel blue eyes.
‘Who are you?’ Charlotte asked.
‘I could ask the same question.’ His eyes fell on her camera mounted on its monopod. ‘Are you recording me? You’re recording me, aren’t you?’
His hand went to his jacket pocket, as another voice rang out behind him: younger, female and sort of cockney. ‘Who’s there, Doctor?’
‘You’re a doctor?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Doctor of what?’
The angry man waved the question away. ‘A Doctor of ignoring inane questions. Now scram. Vamoose. Do one.’
A girl appeared behind him, pushing the Doctor aside with an affectionate nudge. She had dark skin with expertly shaped eyebrows and hair piled up high on her head.
‘Have you heard yourself? “Do one?” Seriously?’ She smiled. It was a good smile. A cute smile. She stepped out of the box and pulled up the collar on her shiny silver jacket. ‘Nice weather for the time of year.’
‘Oh, and what time of year is it, clever-clogs?’ the Doctor asked, looking mightily peeved to have been shoved out of the way.
The girl looked up at the sky. ‘September?’
‘October,’ Charlotte corrected her.
She was rewarded by another smile. ‘Thanks. I’m Bill, by the way. And you’ve already met the Doctor.’ She leant in conspiratorially. ‘Don’t worry; he’s not always that rude.’
‘Yes, I am!’ the Doctor argued, shutting the door behind him.
‘I’m Cryptogal-UK,’ Charlotte told Bill, only to draw a puzzled look from the Doctor.
‘What kind of name is that?’
‘What kind of name is Doctor?’
‘A good name. The best name.’
Bill grinned. ‘Don’t tell that to Nigel.’ She nodded at Charlotte’s phone. ‘What are you? Some kind of vlogger?’
Now it was Charlotte’s turn to grin. ‘Twelve thousand followers and counting!’
‘Wow!’ Bill looked genuinely impressed. ‘What do you do? Gaming and stuff?’
‘Gaming?’ the Doctor said. ‘In a wood?’
Charlotte ignored him. ‘Nah, I’m rubbish at games. I hunt monsters.’
‘That’s a coincidence,’ Bill said, pointing at the Doctor. ‘So does he!’
Charlotte swung the phone back round to the man. ‘You’re a vlogger too?’ It would explain the name, if nothing else.
‘Certainly not,’ he replied, peering into the trees. ‘Sounds awful.’
‘You do know what it means?’ Bill asked.
‘I’m not that old,’ he snapped. ‘Video blogging, on YouTube or what have you.’ He rummaged in his jacket pocket and pulled out a blue and silver device which whined as he swept it in the air, a green light flashing at its tip.
‘What’s that?’ Charlotte asked.
‘None of your business. What kind of monsters do you hunt?’
‘The real kind. Bigfoot. Nessie.’
‘Which one?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Which Nessie do you hunt?’
‘There’s more than one?’
‘I should know. I put them there.’
‘What?’
He spun on his heel to face her. ‘So you’re a Cryptozoologist. Hence the silly name.’
‘It’s not silly.’
‘And a Crypto-whatsit is …? asked Bill.
‘Someone who tracks creatures of myth or legend,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Life forms conventional science dismisses or ignores. Although most zoologists I know call them “cryptids” rather than “monsters”.’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘Monsters gets more hits.’
‘The question is,’ he continued, taking a step towards her, ‘what monster are you hunting tonight?’
‘There are other questions,’ Bill cut in as the Doctor peered at Charlotte with an intensity that made her want to run and hide, video or no video. ‘Like where we are?’
‘You tell me …’ he replied, as if setting a test.
Bill looked around her. ‘Well, I assume we’re on Earth, and by the look of that mobile—’
‘It’s a MeadowPhone 3,’ Charlotte told her, a little too eagerly.
‘Sweet. They were coming out in August, so it’s not far off when we left. Is it still 2017?’
Charlotte frowned. ‘Of course it is.’
Bill looked pleased with herself. ‘There you go. October 2017.’
The Doctor nodded in appreciation. ‘Not bad. As for where we are …’
‘Manchester,’ Charlotte offered.
He frowned at her. ‘Manchester’s a big place. Come on. The devil’s in the detail.’
‘Huckensall, on the outskirts. Near Sale.’
The Doctor gave her a tight smile. ‘See? That wasn’t too difficult, was it?’
‘Cool,’ Bill said, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. ‘Never been to Manchester.’
The Doctor shook his head, slipping his bizarre buzzing-tool-thing back into his pockets. ‘And this is what happens. I show them the stars and they get all giddy about Manchester.’
‘What’s wrong with Manchester?’ Bill asked as a scream broke through the trees.
The Doctor was already running in the direction of the cry. ‘I suggest we find out. Come on!’