27 July 2011 / 02:56
The gate was closed. Securely locked, a new password keyed in to keep them safe. The front door fitted with a new lock.
His parents had gone to bed but Maddie’s door was open. So was his. ‘Please, Noah,’ she’d said, ‘don’t close your door.’
‘You can sleep in my room, we can bring in a mattress,’ he’d offered.
‘No, it’s fine. As long as I know you’re right next door.’
‘I’ll hear you, Mads,’ he said. ‘I’ll hear you breathing.’
And now he was at his window, awake in the dark, restive, on edge.
The sound of light breathing from the room next door signalled his sister was finally asleep.
Down at the end of the driveway, the gate was closed.
The smell of the men had gone with them, the meatiness of GreyEyes’s breath, the acid tinge of fear on GapTooth’s body, his cloying aftershave.
Noah pressed his hands against the windowpane. It was cold under his touch and as he watched two ghostly handprints formed. 5 fingers on each hand. He pulled his hands back and let each of them curl into a fist.
He ran his tongue over his teeth. It was still sore where he’d bitten it.
Outside the window, down the drive and beyond the gates, shadows shifted and shivered in the darkness and each was a shape, a man in black. They were still there and always would be; 3 bodies becoming 1 and then 3 and then 1 again, formless and forming, pushing hard against the wrought iron. Eyes flashed silver, orange. Strong fingers pulled at the iron bars and there was a grin, a quick baring of fangs. Then it all slid away, melted into nothing and the night folded back on itself. Still, Noah stood at the window, all 5 senses on high alert, ready to react at the smallest hint of danger. He would stand there all night if he had to.
Such a pathetically sad image. Noah Groome taking on the Dark.