Chapter Eighteen

 

Rescue

 

Having planted all the explosives Terry again inspected his watch as they reached the top of the mine shaft.

“We’ve got about three minutes,” he hissed. “I don’t want to be in ‘ere when that shock wave gets ‘ere. Let’s get artside. If there’s any reception committee, keep ‘em busy while I go in the ‘ouse and get the old geezer.”

Cautiously Hiram opened the outer door. The sky was glimmering with its unearthly message spewing from the stop fire, illuminating the dirt driveway like an early evening sun. “Okay,” he said and led the way out.

Suddenly and unexpectedly people appeared and some were carrying hurricane lanterns that they had been shielding. Before Hiram could give the alarm the enemy opened fire. By reflex action he returned the fire. Several of the opposition went down. Terry fell face down in the dust. Hiram stood his position and fired back, determined kill them all. For several seconds it was the gunfight at the OK Corral.

The clouds blinked, then the pithead shuddered from the shock wave of the pipeline explosion. Then suddenly the sky went black – there came a roar like a rapidly approaching express train. With the sound like an aircraft breaking the sound barrier the pithead succumbed to the blast from the stop fire. Pieces of wood and shrapnel, dust and dirt all took to the air followed by the enfolding cloud of dark orange fire. The pieces began noisily raining down all around the near-totally destroyed building. The fight, for the time being at least, was over. Some of the enemy climbed to their feet and began wandering aimlessly away. The yellow flames that were consuming what was left of the pithead illuminated the pitiful scene.

Stunned and at first confused, Hiram stood silhouetted against the burning building. He looked around trying to comprehend the situation. The stop fire had at last stopped. The sky was dark, the terrible unearthly clouds dispersing for the first time in centuries. Hammy knelt down to examine Terry.

“I’m or-right,” he protested. “I got it in the leg.”

Hiram examined Terry’s leg. To him it looked very bad. The spunky detective had taken a shotgun blast in the upper part of his leg, just above the knee

“Can you walk or do I have to carry you?”

“No. You’ll ‘ave to get the jam jar an’ bring it over ‘ere. We gotta stop the blood.”

“Okay. But while it’s all quiet I’m going in the house to get Bernard. Will you be alright till I get back?” He stood and carefully reloaded the revolver.

“You do that, cock. I’ll be or-right. I’ll use me belt to stop the bleedin’. Don’t be long, I ain’t got much fight left in me.”

“I’ll take you over to the house, so’s you’re close to me. Okay?”

“Righto.”

Hiram helped the injured man across the road. No enemy were around except two who lay quite still on the grass verge.

“I’ll take the gun. If you hear or feel any danger, call me. I’ll hear you, there’s almost no wall to speak of.”

Terry nodded his head in agreement and Hiram walked to the entrance hall of the derelict mansion.

“Come on out, you bastard,” Hiram yelled at the top of his voice.

The laird-thing emerged from the tunnel that led to the kitchen. In its hand was a hurricane lamp. It looked around and pretended not to notice anyone. Quickly Hammy attracted its attention by firing his pistol into the air.

“I’ve come for my friends,” he shouted then walked into the entrance hall. “Don’t try anything, I’ll shoot to kill if I have to.”

“You cannot win against the master, you foolish little human,” said the blood sausage.

“You’re wrong there, but either way you’re finished. If you try anything I’ll blow you away – in any case you’ll be the first to go.”

The laird-thing sat its ugly mass on a wooden chair and placed the light on the floor beside him. The sight of the thing by the light of the lantern was unnerving. Carefully Hammy kept the weapon trained on the disgusting apparition.

“Where’s Bernard?”

“Who?”

“Where’s the old man who came here with me and Terry?”

“He is safe and well.”

Hiram felt nervous, this thing seemed too calm, almost too confident. “Where are the girls?”

“They are safe too, except for the one you killed.”

“I killed? I didn’t hurt any of them.”

“She was in the bus with you, but died of her injuries later. Nonetheless the master will use her. Wasting food is sinful.”

“Where’s Barbara, you pile of shit?”

“She’s safe, too.”

Hiram became excited and shouted at the ugly monster. “Where the bloody hell is she?”

“Safe from your intervention.”

With a bang the revolver went off and the laird-thing calmly looked down at its arm where blood began to flow. Hammy fired again, then realized that the thing was under the control of the master and probably could not feel pain. With resolution and accuracy, he shot the thing in its other arm.

“Now, you bastard, you’ll speak or die.”

The laird-thing laughed and sat calmly bleeding what looked like human blood. “Your time is limited, young man, make the best of it while you still can.”

Hammy rushed back to where he had left Terry. Terry had the spare PXI with him. “Gimme that,” Hammy said, snatching the device. He ran back to the laird and placed it on the monster’s head, then turned the device on. Instantly the laird could feel the terrible pain in its arms, but could not raise them to remove the PXI. “Now, you bastard,” Hammy snarled. “If that thing falls off your head I’ll shoot to kill. Now where’s the village cop?”

“The policeman is on his way here,” the laird said with difficulty.

“If he comes here I’ll shoot him, and you. Now where’s Bernard?”

“Professor Nightingale is in the Edinburgh Infirmary.”

“Good, now, where’s the girls?”

“The master has them. They are preserved for later use.”

“What do you mean?” Hiram snapped.

“They have been cocooned, it preserves them.”

“Are they dead?”

“No.”

“What about Barbara, is she cocooned, too?”

“Yes, her and the other one.”

“Show me, I want to take her away from this place.”

“It will do you no good, you cannot defeat the master. His power is all-encompassing.”

“If you haven’t noticed I have defeated it and now I rule the day.”

“No,” the laird said. “You have stopped the moragnus, but the master still has his mind and can destroy you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The moragnus only pacifies the warm-bloods, you and your friend have silenced it. Now the master can and will control people with his great mind. He will hunt you down and destroy you. No one can defeat the master.”

“Really,” Hammy snarled. “What the hell are you?”

“I am a human, like yourself.”

“Oh, no,” Hiram snapped. “Not like me. Why do you look like a pile of blood sausage?”

“I am over 400 years old.”

“Really. So where’s Barbara?”

The thing looked at him with its miserable bloodshot eyes. “I will give her to you if you release me from this mental bondage.”

“Where is she?” Hiram repeated, waving the weapon menacingly.

“I am in great pain and cannot last very much longer. Release me and I will give her to you.”

“Give her to me then I’ll release you.”

“No. You best kill me now.”

Hiram thought for a few seconds – the situation was beyond his understanding though he felt that he was winning the war. Carefully he walked to the ugly monster that sat and bled. With a quick movement he snatched the PXI from its head. “There,” he said and jumped back.

“Thank you,” It stood up. “I bless you, my son. The master is benevolent, not malevolent. He wishes you and your kind no harm. He has been here for hundreds of years and today is the first day of violence and bloodshed.”

“Cut the crap. Where’s Barbara?”

“I wish to tell you about the master and his love for the people of this planet. You must not harm him. Even after all the destruction you have wrought he is willing to exchange knowledge with you. Live and let live. Praise be the master.”

“I said, cut the crap. Where is she? Quit stalling before I blow you away.”

“She is in the tunnel with all the other samples.”

“Lead the way, ugly. One false move and I’ll blow you away,” Hiram growled.

The laird-thing moved slowly to the tunnel that led to the kitchen. They passed several of the silken cocoons, then the laird stopped and looked at one.

“This is her.”

Hiram didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There was nothing to be seen except the huge cocoon device. He heard noises farther down the tunnel.

“If that’s one of your buddies,” he said, “I’ll kill the bloody lot of you.”

“It is the master. He will not face you. Take your woman and leave. If you wish to commune go to the church.” The thing then walked off into the tunnel in the direction of the kitchen leaving Hammy standing with gun one hand and a lantern in the other.

Placing the lantern on the floor Hammy opened the revolver and replaced the spent cartridges. He felt sick to his stomach. Fear gripped him like a cold hand on his heart. He slipped the revolver in his pocket then attempted to pick up the fuzzy bundle. The material was quite strong, almost like fibreglass. It was white and slightly sticky. With great difficulty he managed to get the bundle onto his shoulder. Fortunately Hiram was strong and the excitement of the moment gave him the adrenaline he needed to complete his task. Quickly he marched out of the dimly lit tunnel to the entrance hall with the cocoon on his shoulders. Unable to comfortably reach the doorknob on the rickety old door with his hands he kicked it out, knocking it off its rusty hinges. In only seconds he found Terry still lying on the side of the driveway.

“Are you okay, Hardwick?” Hammy asked.

There was no reply. With difficulty he placed the fuzzy bundle on the ground then knelt beside Terry to examine him. The man’s heart was still pumping and he seemed to be breathing freely, but there was no conscious response. Hiram decided to run on foot and fetch the car to his two helpless companions. He riffled Terry’s pockets until he found the ignition key and then after a brief release of the tourniquet, he took off running towards the car.

Looking about for obvious dangers, he made a dash for the wooded grove with his gun in hand. The night was dark without the light of the stop fire. The old mine building was still burning but gave very little useful illumination. With his heart pounding and his lungs burning from the exertion he reached the concealed vehicle. Moments later he brought the car to a screeching halt beside his two helpless companions.

Hammy had great difficult loading the cocoon into the back seat. It barely fitted and there was no living person to help him. Getting Terry into the front passenger seat was almost as difficult. He slammed the door and ran round to the driver’s side, jumped in and started the engine. He was about to drive off when he realized he had left the PXI in the tunnel where he had found Barbara.

Cursing, Hammy climbed from the car, took a quick look at his passengers then re-entered the deadly old house. The dim lights still burned in the tunnel that led to the master’s lair. With a deep breath and a shrug of his shoulders he began to hurry down the passage. At length he found the PXI. Snatching it up he ran back through the galleries to the entrance hall. He was not opposed by any living thing. With a sigh of relief, he flicked on the headlights and floored the accelerator. The car shot off round the circle and towards the trees. Thoughts of every varied type flushed through his mind. The primary thoughts were: where to go? What to do next?

As the car reached the highway, just past the wrecked bus, he decided to enlist the help of Jock Willox. A sharp left turn then full throttle to Coldingham Bay. The drone of the engine seemed comforting – doing something was always better than doing nothing. It seemed an unholy night and far from over. Bernard and the Glee girls were still missing.

There was no light in the cottage as Hammy parked the car as close as possible. He walked up the path to the front door and banged loudly. After awhile the light came on, then the door opened. Jock stood there in his long johns, with a shotgun under his arm.

“What the hell d’yee want at this hour?”

Hammy didn’t like the look of the shotgun. “Come, quick, just over there,” he yelled, pointing.

Jock stepped forward, his sleepy eyes straining to see. Quickly Hammy pushed the man and grabbed the shotgun. While the Scot was still reeling from the shock Hammy kicked him squarely, knocking him well clear. In a synchronized movement he pulled out his revolver and threw the shotgun into the bushes.

“Move a muscle and I’ll blow your head off,” he growled at the Scot.

“Yee dinna have to get violent, laddie.”

“I need your help. I’m in a jam.”

“You look like it. What have yo’ been d’ing with y’self?”

“No time for chit-chat. I declared war on the master. I’ve got an injured man who needs help.”

Jock was not sure what to make of this wild man with the American accent. “So what d’yah want from me, laddie?”

“Help me, Jock, help me. It’s your fight, too.”

“Let’s see this injured man.”

“To the car, then,” Hammy snapped, waving the revolver.

Together they walked to the vehicle parked down the hill a short distance away. Hammy opened the door and the interior light came on. Jock could see that there was most certainly a wounded man in the front passenger’s seat.

“Why, it’s that nosy bugger who was here afore. He left his car around hereaboots.”

“Yes, help me get him into your shack, but first put this on your head.” Hammy handed him the spare PXI.

Jock eyed him up and down for a few seconds. “Is this some Hogmanay prank?”

“No. Put the bloody thing on, or I’ll have to shoot you where you stand.” He switched it on and held it out to him.

Slowly Jock took the PXI and reluctantly placed it on his head. “Now I look as daft as the rest of yo’. What the hell is that in the back seat, laddie?”

“Never mind that, let’s get Terry into your house.”

They picked the unconscious private detective up and carried him up to the cottage. Inside they placed him on what would have been Jock’s bed. The shack had only one large room with maybe a small kitchen off to one side. In the light of the cottage Terry’s wound looked even worse than it had outside.

Jock examined the injured man. “This fellow’s going to die if you don’t get him to a hospital.”

“I can’t take him to a hospital. Sit down over there and don’t make any sudden moves. I’ll explain what happened.”

“Go ahead then, laddie.” Jock sat, he had no intention of enticing Hammy to shoot him.

“Well,” Hiram began, “you know the stop fire?”

“The what?”

“Morag o’ whatever’s tomb, in the cemetery at Craig.”

“Aye. I doo.”

“Well, it’s not a tomb, it’s a thing that puts mental waves in the air and controls people. It’s what you call the ghost of Jeffrey DeScagmore.”

Jock laughed. “You’re addled, laddie.”

“No matter what you think, we blew it up. It don’t work any more. The master is an alien from another world and it can control people’s minds. It can make you see whatever it wants you to see.”

“While you’re telling this daft story, your oppo there is dying. We should get him to a hospital and the sooner the better.”

“You’ve got to believe me. This alien came here, he crashed in the sea. It was that meteor you told me about. It was after that that things began to happen. It caused all these things to happen, it controls people.”

“Soo, what if I do believe yeh, then what?”

Hammy shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve got to go rescue Professor Nightingale. Then I’ve got to find a way to kill that alien before it repairs the damage to the stop fire.”

“Alright,” Jock said, patronizing Hiram. “I’ll believe what yee are tellin’ me. I’ll even help ye’. What yee gonna doo now?”

Hammy thought for a few seconds. “I’ll have to go to the Edinburgh Infirmary, that’s where they’re holding Bernard.”

“Alright, laddie. I’ll take care of ye’ oppo here, you go get your Bernard. Now, what if your alien wakes up again?”

“It’s not asleep. Never mind, one thing at a time.”

“You toddle off and find your other friend and I’ll stay and nurse this one.”

“Oh, no,” Hammy said. “I’m not that stupid. As soon as I’ve gone you tell the master what, when and where. Oh, no, if I go, you are coming along with me and you’ll keep that PXI on your head.”

Terry moved with a groan. Jock looked at him then poured a glass of whisky. “Here,” he said, handing it to Terry, “drink this, it’ll ease your pain.”

“How are you, Terry?” Hiram inquired.

“Bloody terrible, cock,” he winced. “Did we win? Where are we?”

Hammy smiled. “We won the first battle, but the war’s still on. I feel sick, I put my hands on that Devil – I actually touched it!”

“Where are we?” Terry asked.

“We’re at Jock Willox’s place. How’s the pain?”

“Bloody awful. But I fink I can survive.”

“Okay,” Hammy said. “Jock, you come with me.”

He left the cottage and walked to the car. There the two of them pulled the cocoon from the vehicle and carried it up to the cottage.

“What is this thing?” Jock said.

“It’s the girl I’ve been looking for. That alien does this to people.”

Jock was thoughtful as they carried the thing to the cottage and laid it down on the uncarpeted floor. “I remember seeing one of these somewhere before,” he said. “It’s funny, I’m beginning to remember strange things.”

“The PXI on your head will allow you to remember, because it protects you from the alien’s thought control,” Hammy said. “You’ve probably been under its influence for too long.”

“Remember, aye, remember, but remember what?”

“I can’t waste any more time,” Hammy said. “I have to get Bernard back. Terry, could you guard this man if I take his PXI for Bernie?”

Terry rolled his head to one side. “I’ll watch ‘im.”

Hammy gave Terry the revolver. “If he moves, blow him away, I’ll be back as quick as I can. Hopefully before daylight.”

Terry winced with the pain and stress. “For Gord’s sake, don’t be too long.”

“Now listen here, Jock, if anything happens to Terry while I’m away, I’ll hunt you down like a rat and exterminate you. You get my drift?”

“Aye, I do, laddie.”

“Good. Give me that PXI.”

Mr Willox cautiously handed over his PXI. Hammy turned it off and for a few moments watched Jock to see if he was going to do anything. “Okay,” he said to Terry. “Just watch him, I’ll go get Bernie then I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Hammy was uncomfortable about leaving Terry with Jock Willox, but he felt there was no alternative. To win the war they had to have Bernard back, he was the only one with enough contacts and knowledge to defeat the master. Wasting no time Hammy jumped into Terry’s car, checked the fuel gauge and drove off at high speed towards Edinburgh.

The infirmary was in the suburbs and close to the A1(M) highway. Following the signs, Hammy was soon in the parking area at the front of the main building. There was no parking attendant and at that ungodly hour there wasn’t a soul to be seen. Surreptitiously he parked the vehicle as close as possible to the main door and then tried to tidy himself up in the rear-view mirror. Turning off the engine and the lights he climbed from the vehicle.

Hammy grabbed the PXI and marched boldly into the building. The only person to be seen was the receptionist. Hammy walked over to her.

“My uncle was brought in here a short time ago, could you please tell me which room he’s in?”

She looked him up and down suspiciously. “Visiting hours ended at eight o’clock,” she said slowly and deliberately.

“He wasn’t here then. All I want is his room number. It’s Bernard Nightingale.”

“Well, Mr Nightingale, please come back at a more favourable hour.”

“No, I’m not Nightingale, he is. I’m catching a ship,” he looked at his watch. “In three hours, in Clydeside. I won’t be back for six months. Now you wouldn’t want to cheat me out of my inheritance, would you?”

“Please come back during visiting hours, sir.”

“I can’t. I told you, I’ll be on board ship. Look, I won’t cause you or the hospital any trouble. I won’t even wake him. All I want to do is place the present in his room,” he said, holding up the PXI.

“I’ll see that he gets it.”

“Please, let me see him. I promise I won’t wake him, or anyone else. I will only be there for ten seconds. I’ll just write him a little note.”

She punched a few characters in on the computer. “Nightingale, B. Yes, he came in with a minor head injury and a broken finger. Apparently we only kept him for observation.”

“Yeah,” Hiram said. “That’s him, poor old sod, always having accidents. Will you let me see him? He’s the only relative I’ve got left.”

“Alright, but I want you back here in exactly five minutes. If you’re not here I’ll call security and have you thrown in the castle dungeons, alright?”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“It’s room 215. Second floor, turn right at the lift.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Dashing across the hall, he pressed the button on the elevator. The door opened and he walked in. Moments later he was walking down the corridor looking for room 215. He opened the door; the room was in near darkness. Slowly he approached the bed. Bernie lay fast asleep.

Carefully checking that there was no one in the vicinity, Hiram switched on the spare PXI. A second check that he was alone, then he grabbed Bernie roughly by the scruff of the neck and pushed the PXI on his head. The old man woke up. Before he could utter a sound Hammy clapped his hand over the prof’s mouth.

“Quiet, you silly old bugger,” he hissed between his teeth. “I’m going to take you home.” Roughly he dragged Bernard out of bed. “Now don’t give me an argument, you’re coming with me.”

The professor was confused and slightly disoriented. It had been a very bad night for him. He had been captured by the master, banged around in an old bus and now he was being kidnapped in the middle of the night.

Moments later both men were at the emergency stair exit. “Other lives are at stake here, Bernie, so you’d better do as I say, okay?”

“Yes, Hammy, yes, but what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain as soon as we are free of this place.” They walked down the stairs, Bernard still in his hospital gown. At the bottom stood the door that led into the reception area. “Now listen, I’m going to distract the receptionist. When I do, you walk out of the hospital, straight out of the front door. You got that?”

“Yes, Hammy.”

Hiram walked boldly to the girl at the desk. “Thanks a million,” he said. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. Oh, look,” he said, pointing, “you’ve got mice in here.”

She jumped up with her back to the counter and looked in the direction that he pointed. Bernard took the cue and walked out of the access door, across the hall and out the front door unobserved.