Chapter Sixteen

 

Tasty Bait

 

After Terry had smashed the device for communicating with the alien the rest of the day progressed disastrously. Little had been learned by Bernard’s experiment and time had been wasted. Anger and animosity prevailed between the three of them as they climbed into the car still wearing their PXIs; Hiram drove. No words were spoken for some time. Internally Hiram was fuming, boiling over with anger.

Suddenly he pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. They were beside a very slow river known in those parts as a drain.

Hiram turned to Terry who was sitting behind Bernard. “I want you out, you little shit. We don’t need you on this caper.”

“Now, now, Hammy,” Bernard said, intervening. “The more the merrier.”

“I don’t want this grey-haired, half-pint soda jerk working with us. Get out, Hardwick.”

Terry smiled. “I fink yous got the breeze up, cock. My plan will work an’ wivart me, there is no plan. I know where your jam jar is, I told you that.”

“I’m not paying you, not one red cent. You are off the payroll, off the case. Do you get my drift, short-ass?” Hammy snapped.

Again Terry smiled. “I fink your PXI is too tight, cock.”

Hiram grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “I’m going to punch your lights out, then throw you in that river.”

“Drain,” Bernard corrected. “Please, Hammy, have patience. I’m sure Mr Hardwick means no harm. I may need his assistance.”

“Right, guv. We’s all got to pull togever. I can get the Glee Club, you can get the fireworks. The free of us togever, we’ll knock their socks off. Togever we’s a match for any alien.”

Hiram let go. “I don’t like you, Hardwick. I’m not paying you any more money.”

“This one’s free, cock, on the ‘ouse.”

“I don’t like the way you speak or the things you say. If you’re coming with us, then keep your mouth shut, okay?” Hammy snarled.

“We should take our PXIs off and conserve power,” Bernard said. “I do not like the idea of spending another night in that house. What if the laird learns where we are?”

“He won’t,” Hiram growled. He put the car into gear and drove off roughly.

They all removed their headgear and sat in sullen silence as the car entered March by Elm Road. As they travelled along Station Road towards the town centre a police car rushed past them. It turned into Norwood Avenue. Following all the rules of the road, Hammy indicated his turn and slowed down. Just as the car cleared the corner they saw that the street was crawling with police. Quickly Hammy cancelled the indicators and began speeding up.

“Now what the hell are we going to do?” he said. “The place is crawling with fuzz.

“Quick,” Bernard said. “Everyone put on your PXIs. Hammy, follow this road. We’ll have to go to … to the other place.”

The fear was almost electric, as they all knew that life in a laird-controlled jail would probably be short but not sweet.

“This calls for a change of plan,” Terry said. “They’s obviously on to us.”

“Everybody got their hats on?” Hiram asked.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Good, now we can talk. It was your communicator that gave our position away, Bernard. It’s a good thing Hardwick smashed it.”

Bernard thought for a moment. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to go to Heacham, there is nowhere else.”

“Whatever,” Hammy replied.

As soon as they were clear of the town, Hiram stopped the car and asked Bernard to do the driving, then got in the back seat and sat in the centre. “I think I’m in agreement with your plan, Hardwick. But I’m the boss of this outfit – you do as I say, when I say it. Now, is that clear?”

“As you like, guv. We’s got to get movin’.”

“Well, I don’t see why I have to go in the house with the girls,” Hiram said.

“No,” Bernard agreed. “I cannot go into the mine shaft. I am … well, I do not like things like that. High up or low down … well, they do not go well with me.”

“He’s scared of heights,” Hiram added. “He wouldn’t go in the mine that last time we were there.”

“Or-right, or-right,” Terry barked. “The old geezer can do the stop fire in the cemetery. I’ll do the pit and you do the ‘ouse. If we each do our fing, we’ll be finished in a shorter time. I’ll work out the timin’ for all of us.”

They drove through the city of King’s Lynn looking like a carload of Martians on their way to a convention. Several people gave them a second look, particularly when they stopped at the traffic lights. At long last the car pulled to a halt at the little cottage by the sea. The three disembarked and one by one removed their headgear.

“I’m sorry it’s rather small. It’s all I have,” Bernard said apologetically. “You two will have to sleep on the floor or on a chair.”

“Never mind, Bernie,” Hiram said. “I’m hungry. It feels like I haven’t eaten since Christmas.”

“One of you will have to go to the village for food,” Bernard said, looking at his watch. “You know the fish shop is open, why don’t we have fish and chips?”

“Okay,” Hammy agreed. “I’ll go. Hardwick’ll have to stay here or we’ll never see him again. I still don’t trust him.”

As Bernard and Terry walked into the cottage Hiram climbed back into the car to collect supper. That night, after a good, greasy English meal, several phone calls were made from the corner phone box to complete the arrangements for the forthcoming raid. Bernard firmed up the date for the explosives, then Terry called the girls and completed the details.

“Well,” Terry said. “It’s all arranged. Saturday, the Glee Club will be in Lynn. They are going to stay at a ‘otel Friday night. Kawalski, you’ll be their driver. You’ll take them to Craig Manor. They don’t know nofin’ abart what’s gonna ‘appen. They fink they are on a job an’ you don’t enlighten them, or-right?”

“Sure,” Hammy said, “whatever you say, they’re your girls. But if anything happens to any of them, be it on your head.”

“Nah,” Terry said. “Me an’ the old geezer’ll follo’, keepin’ a safe distance. We don’t want them to know we’s there. I’ll drop the old geezer off at the stop fire and then I’ll go do the mine fing. Do we all agree?”

“Sure,” Hiram said.

“I suppose so,” Bernard said with a sigh. “And I am not the old geezer, my name is Bernard.”

Friday night Bernard drove over to see his friend on the Lincolnshire border. There, he collected a 25-pound case of MX-9, a new type of plastic explosive, and four electric remote detonators, all produced by his own manufacturing company. The explosive was far safer than dynamite or gelignite and could only be set off by use of the correct detonators.

When Bernard arrived back at the cottage, much to his surprise Hammy and Terry were playing cards instead of fighting. Excitement began building up as all felt that this time they would be able to deliver a fatal blow to this alien force.

“You know,” Bernard said, “we are the unlikeliest world-saving army. There are only three of us against an alien invader. I do hope that there is only one of them.”

“Sure,” Hammy said, humouring the old man. “There’s only one.”

Before they retired Terry made one more long-distance phone call. The other two listened in silence, just to make sure it was not a tip-off to the enemy. “Don’t worry,” Terry said. “We’s all in it togever, sink or swim. Whatever the outcome we’s all togever.”

“It doesn’t seem to scare you, Hardwick,” Hiram said as they walked back to the cottage.

“Nah! Takes more than a ghost an’ an alien to put the breeze up me.”

Very early the next morning the trio got up and began preparing for the long day. Hiram put on his PXI and Bernard bandaged his head to hide the instrument. The ensemble was completed with a Yorkshire Dale cap. Terry and Bernard had no reason to hide their devices. Zero hour arrived – Bernard drove the car to King’s Lynn and so to the appropriate hotel.

The girl’s bus had been parked in the car park at the back of the building. It was a dirty old blue Leyland utility, thirty-seater.

“We’ll leave yous to it,” Terry said, taking up the driver’s position in Bernard’s car. “We’ll see yah after the big bang. Remember, it goes at ten sharp.”

With that he closed the door and drove off. The idea being that they would not meet again until after the attack.

Hiram leaned against the locked bus, waiting for the next event to occur. After about fifteen minutes a very large, fat woman came strolling across the parking area. She stood about 167 centimetres tall and at least 90 kilograms, or as Bernard would say about 14 stone. Her hair was brunette and greying round the edges.

“You our driver? she asked in a rough Midland accent.

“Yes, I am your driver for this trip.”

“Gees, a bloody Yank,” she said. “Well, I suppose you’ll do. You know which side of the road to drive on, sonny?”

“Yes, I do, and I am a Canadian, not an American. You can call me Hammy.”

She laughed heartily. “Well, love, we ain’t going to Toad Hall, are we?”

The reference to Wind in the Willows passed clean over Hammy’s head. “Do you have the keys?”

She rummaged in her bag for a few seconds, pulled out the keys and handed them to him. “Drive well and no screwing around with my girls, Sonny Jim. You got that?”

Hammy unlocked the door and climbed in. He sat on the driver’s seat and began the wait for the other girls to arrive. Within thirty minutes all seven of his passengers were present and accounted for.

“I thought you broads were a barber’s shop quartet,” he commented.

Martha, the fat lady, sat by the door. “So, we’ve got spares. Now, you drive and we’ll do the singing, sonny.”

“Great,” Hammy agreed.

“Why is your head bandaged up like that? Terry never said nothing about no invalid. You haven’t had a brain operation, have you?”

“No, it’s alright,” Hammy said. “I had a lobotomy, yesterday. Should be able to stay awake. If I do nod off, give me a nudge, will you.”

“You nod off, sonny, and I’ll give you more than a nudge. This is going to be a nice outing for my girls at Hardwick’s expense. Now drive. First stop Boston, alright?”

“Sure.” Hammy put the old bus into gear and gently pulled away. The girls were having a wonderful time even before the bus left the parking area; they were singing and apparently making merry.

The journey to Boston took less than an hour. The roads were clear and the town just waking up when they arrived. Hiram stayed in the bus with his feet up on the steering wheel relaxing. The girls enjoyed themselves looking at the shops and visiting the church known locally as The Stump. The bus was parked only 30 metres from the church entrance.

Next stop was Holy Island, almost into the target zone. There in the village of Lindisfarne, Hiram left the bus and enjoyed the day. He had a meal at one of the nice restaurants and enjoyed the company of Mindy, a very thin 20-year-old blond, and Sally, a brunette, 25 and a little heavier than Mindy. Hiram showed off a bit as he had been there before and knew his way around the island.

They were fortunate that the tide did not turn until eight o’clock. By that time they would have to drive across the causeway back to the mainland or become trapped until the tide went out again. Unknown to the girls, the next stop would be Craig Manor. The idea was to merely gatecrash and hope that the laird would take the bait. As the girls boarded the bus for the departure, it was obvious that they were getting tired after a long day’s excitement.

“We’re going to a neat place now, I am sure you will all love it,” Hammy said.

He started the engine and pulled out of the car park. The journey across the causeway was easy and uneventful. On the other side Hiram noticed Bernard’s car parked along the causeway as if they were merely tourists.

Wearing the PXI and it being switched on he could already see the unnatural colour of the heavens. None of the girls noticed anything. They passed Coldingham Bay and what looked like Terry’s car was still parked down by the abbey, where it had been left a few days ago. Hiram began to feel uneasy as they approached the deadly little village of Craig. The giant plume was as big and as terrifying as ever. It was a sight that only he could see. Like some terrible volcano it belched clouds at a huge velocity in the darkened sky. For the first time he was able to see the church in daylight with a PXI on his head. It looked a disgraceful sight sitting there in ruins, with a broken roof, overshadowed by the noisy and weird colour of the stop fire.

“What a beautiful little church,” commented one of the girls as they drove past the derelict site.

Already Hammy could feel the fear of the situation creeping into his bones. He began to have doubts that he could carry out his side of the bargain. Slowing down, he turned the bus onto the dirt lane beside the cemetery. The roar of the stop fire seemed to thunder in tune with his heartbeat. Soon they reached the grove of trees and passed through and into the driveway of the dilapidated house.

“Oh, what a gorgeous house,” one of the girls said.

Hammy could not believe what he saw. In the light of the late evening the building appeared to be nothing more than an old shack with a few trees around it. He pulled the bus up to the only door. His breath began coming in short gulps, making him feel as though he would gag on his own breath. He could feel the sweat trickling down his face.

“Are you alright, love?” Martha asked. “You do look queer.”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright in a minute. This is the place that Hardwick arranged your, er ... your concert.”

Martha shouted. “Come on, girls, we’re here.”

Hammy switched the engine off and the girls began to disembark. The laird came to the front door and seemed puzzled at the appearance of the coach.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“We’ve come to give you a really good show. We are the Leicester Glee Singers,” Martha said with a big smile. “It’s all arranged.”

Hiram looked into his hands. His fingers were trembling uncontrollably. He looked at his watch, they were earlier than he had intended – ten o’clock was zero hour and it was only eight fifteen. Slowly and with all the determination he could muster he climbed from the bus. The blood froze in his veins when he actually clasped eyes on the laird; until then he had only heard his voice. One of the girls kissed it on what was probably its cheek. Hiram had great difficulty preventing his stomach contents from making an abrupt exit. The laird or whatever it was stood beside the entrance to the shack. It looked like a person who had been in some terrible industrial accident. All it’s skin had been removed and most of what was visible was rotting and disintegrating. It had no clothes but seemed to be draped in what looked like fresh raw liver. Its voice was that of the laird, but its form was that of a hideous monster.

“Come on, love. God, you do look real pale,” Martha said, helping to support Hiram before he fell to the ground.

The laird walked over, spotting the situation that seemed to be taking Hiram. “Are you ill, young man?” it said with a slight Scottish lilt.

“No, no. I’ll be alright,” gasped Hammy trying not to look at the thing.

It was most obvious that none of the women could see the dreadful sights that he could see. He felt like some madman in a world of lunacy. Though he knew the effect was being screened by the PXI, he felt like screaming and running for his life.

“Ah,” the laird-thing said. “You are back. Is it that you wish to make amends? Perhaps you bring an offering of peace.”

Trying hard to hold himself up like a man, Hiram looked at the disgusting object that spoke to him. “Yes. I’m here to make amends.” He did not want the thing to know that he could see reality and was not affected by the mind-bending stop fire.

They all walked into the house. The girls were pleasantly pleased by the splendid decor, as was Hiram on his first visit to the manor. This time as he walked in through the rickety front door he could barely stop himself from throwing up. There was a putrid smell of rot and decay in the air. The floor had no covering and consisted mainly of dirt and there was no carpet or even floorboards. The suits of armour were not there and there was no paint on any of the walls.

“Come,” the laird-thing said. “To the living room, you can give me a sample of your wares.”

They all followed through the decrepit back wall and into the open, overgrown garden at the back of the house. “What’s this place?” Hiram asked, visibly trembling.

“De yee no remember, laddie?” the laird-thing asked. “This is the room where you first sat wi’ me.”

Hiram looked around at the Alice in Wonderland world. It was nothing more than a dirty garden, yet the girls all acted as though it was a beautiful antique living room. Some sat on old boxes, thinking they were on elegant chairs; four of them formed a row at the far end near the dead oak tree. Hammy’s mind spun as he tried desperately to accommodate the unreality of the weird and dreadful world.

Martha stood up and announced, “Ladies and gentleman, I have pleasure in introducing the Leicester Glee Girls.”

The four singers began singing. The whole affair emulated a nightmare of hideous proportions. Insane singing in a deathly garden illuminated by the ghastly fluorescent clouds and accompanied by the roar of the stop fire. Hiram put his hands to his ears, hardly able to believe what he could see and hear.

“I’m going mad,” he said aloud.

“Don’t worry, love,” Martha said, sitting beside him, “just relax. I’m sure you’ll feel better in a while. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, for God’s sake, no.”

At the end of the song the laird-thing clapped as if it really enjoyed the performance. “Come,” it said. “We must repair to the kitchen for a bite to eat. I’ll feed you all.” Then it walked over to Hiram. “Will the ladies be spending the night or do you have alternative arrangements?”

It was as much as Hammy could do to look at the thing; it’s very existence revolted him. “Yes, what? I don’t know.”

“I said will the ladies be spending the night here?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“You really are ill. Perhaps I should call the doctor for you.”

“No,” Hammy snapped. “I’m okay, I guess I’m just a bit travel sick. It’ll pass.”

“What happened to your head?” the thing asked.

“Oh, er … I … well, it was an accident. Banged my head. It’s okay.”

“Come, ladies and gentleman,” the thing said. “Please follow me to the dining room.”

Hammy felt that he had begun to hyperventilate, the whole situation was beginning to wear him down. He could not imagine who would be eating what in the dining room. He glanced at his watch, there was still far too long before this terrible fiasco would be ended. Somehow he had to find Barbara, but where? The building was nothing like what he had seen before. Most of the walls were not even there.

The group began following the laird, who looked more like a blood sausage than a human, as it walked back into the shack. The thing crossed what should have been the entrance hall. The scene was strange as the blood sausage stopped to open a door that was not there.

“Come along,” it said, “this way, please.”

They all followed with Hiram bringing up the rear. Nervously he checked his watch again, it was still an eternity to zero hour. They walked into a dank earthen tunnel that sloped fairly steeply downward. Hiram did not recognize it at all. It smelled bad and the walls were wet. There were shelves similar to those in the castle tunnel and on both sides. Farther along there were the cobweb-covered corpses, except these were fresh. Hiram swallowed hard, trying to maintain his stomach contents.

Trembling and feeling sicker than a dog with distemper, Hiram felt the revolver he carried for reassurance. Soon they reached the kitchen or dining room. It was a cave with some crude wooden furniture. The girls were delighted at its beauty and antiquity.

“How wonderfully old-world,” Mindy, the good-looking skinny blond said.

Hiram looked around – he could see nothing old-world or quaint. There against one wall was the horror of horrors. It staggered Hiram so much he almost collapsed on the spot.

Martha grabbed him. “Are you sure you’re alright, love?” she asked.

“Can’t you see it?” whispered Hiram, keeping his voice as low as possible.

“No, love, what is it?”

“Never mind,” he said as she seated him on a wooden stool.

“This,” the laird-thing said, “is the Laird of Craigai Castle.” He walked over to the horror and patted it fondly.

Hiram’s jaw fell open with shock and disgust. The thing seemed to be alive. It looked almost like a 2-metre tall flea. It had dozens of very short legs all around the base. The eyes were similar to that of a fly with two protruding domes and many lenses. It had a proboscis like a mosquito and just below that, little crablike hands. One of the girls walked over to the monster and felt its side.

“What’s so famous about this?” she asked.

“Yah dinna ken aboot the laird?” the blood sausage said.

“No.”

“Och! I’m disappointed that Mr Kawalski has not enlightened you.”

Hiram was in no mood to enlighten anyone on any subject. He began to think that his PXI must have gone wrong and it was giving him horror-filled hallucinations. This could not be the same place he was in before, or could it? His mind was reeling from the shock and wrestling with the unreality of the whole situation.

The disgusting guide gave every one a tumbler of liquid to drink. “Let’s drink to friendship and peace,” it said.

Hammy could not bring himself to even touch the drink container, he wanted to throw up in a most urgent and desperate way. He spoke slowly, “I think I must be ill. I’ve gotta leave, there’s medicine in the bus.”

“Alright, lovey,” big Martha said. “I’ll get one of the girls to walk you back to the bus.” She walked over to the disgusting giant flea and touched it. “Oh, it’s warm,” she said then began to take off her clothes.

No one but Hiram seemed to notice this unusual occurrence.

“Stop her,” Hiram yelled, leaping to his feet. “Someone stop her.”

No one paid any heed – it was one of those nightmare situations where no one noticed you. Hiram had become invisible to those present. He rushed forward to where Martha was undressing.

“Stop it, for God’s sake, stop it!” he yelled. “Just what do you think you are doing?”

The laird-thing tried to pull him away. “Stand clear,” it said.

Martha stood completely naked then the flea thing spat a huge glob of frothy, sticky foam at her. It stuck to her and she fell forward. The ugly nightmare began manipulating her body with the crablike hands beneath its proboscis. Hiram was totally incensed by the terrible scene. He pulled out the revolver and fired at the monster. It had no effect whatsoever, the thing completely ignored him as if he wasn’t even there. He emptied the weapon then in panic fled from the room.