The Middlewych Experiment Read online

  Screaming, I shove him in the chest and send him toppling back, and he lands in the mud as I turn and stumble away. I can't move fast, not in this mud and not with my injured foot, and I clutch my arm as I bump against tree after tree. I don't dare to slow down, of course, and somehow I manage to keep going as I desperately try to get away from this creature. I still don't quite know what's happening, but I figure I can work it all out later. For now, I just need to get away.

  Feeling something wriggling on my hands, I look down and see maggots crawling all over my fingers, while smeared blood and flesh has been mashed against my knuckles.

  As I continue to run, I try to wipe my hand free, and I tell myself that the maggots will simply fall away. A few flies seem to have followed me, and they're still buzzing around my face as I push on through the forest. I feel as if that awful smell is filling my nostrils, as if it's part of me now, as if I'll never be clean again.

  Finally, after running for what feels like forever, I stop and lean against another tree. I'm completely out of breath and I feel as if my lungs are burning, and after a moment I look down at my injured arm and see that the bite isn't actually too bad after all. The teeth just about managed to break the skin, but it's not really much more than a graze. And it's not like that thing back there can have been a real zombie, because real zombies don't exist. I wipe the bite mark and I'm relieved that there's not even any slime or saliva.

  “Okay,” I say as I finally start getting my breath back. “Okay, let's deal with this. Let's get the hell out of here, away from these... cosplaying... weirdo freaks.”

  Because that's what this is. It's a bunch of perverts who apparently enjoy running around in the forest at night, terrifying innocent people. Obviously they take their fun far too seriously, to the extent that they're actually willing to hurt their victims. Sure, their costumes are insanely realistic, but that doesn't mean that they should be allowed to just act like complete assholes. And they definitely shouldn't be going around biting people.

  Suddenly hearing a rustling sound, I turn and look back the way I just came. There's no way the zombie could have caught up to me, not unless he picked up his pace dramatically, but a moment later I spot him again. He's still shuffling through the forest, still thudding haphazardly into almost each tree that he passes, but it's clear that I haven't lost him yet.

  “Damn you,” I mutter under my breath, as I turn and start hurrying away again. “I'm not gonna play the prey for some sick game. You guys can all go to hell.”

  Chapter Three

  The light on the horizon has dimmed a little, so I guess that wasn't the sunrise after all. I've been walking for about an hour now, since I last saw the zombie guy, and I think this time I really have managed to lose him. I'm cold and wet and hurt, and I haven't had any cellphone signal since I came into the forest, and I can't quite believe that I still haven't found my way out of this place.

  What if I die?

  What if, because of some bunch of idiots and their stupid game, I actually die all alone out here in the forest?

  For a moment, I imagine my cold, muddied body getting found by a bunch of cops with sniffer dogs. My parents would be heartbroken, and eventually the bastards from the cosplay group would have to come forward and admit what they did. I guess an autopsy would be carried out, which means I'd end up laid out on a slab while some guy in a white coat cut me open and removed all my organs. My brain'd get weighed in a metal pot and -

  No.

  No, I don't think I want to go down the route of thinking like that. There'll be time for that stuff later, once I've made it home. For now, I really just need to keep my chin up and make sure that I put one foot in front of the other.

  Suddenly something snarls right behind me, and I spin round.

  What the -

  A wolf is standing just a few feet away, staring straight at me as it bares its teeth and snarls. The vampire and the zombie might have been cosplayers, but this thing is definitely real, and I can see saliva dripping from its mouth as I try to figure out what to do next.

  Should I run?

  It might chase me.

  Should I act like I'm not scared?

  That might just make it easier for it to kill me.

  Should I go on the offensive?

  I'm not sure I can do that.

  Do wolves even attack people, anyway? I've never heard anyone mention wolves in this part of the world, and I'm pretty sure I'd know if there were supposed to be packs wandering around anywhere near Middlewych.

  “Give me a break,” I whisper as I take an involuntary step back. “Seriously, I'm so not in the mood for this.”

  The wolf snarls again and takes a step toward me, and I start looking around for something I can use as a weapon. A handy branch would be useful right now, but there's really nothing on the ground other than a bunch of leaves and twigs. This wolf is large, too large for me to even contemplate taking it on with my bare hands, so I quickly realize that my best shot is just to hope that I can calmly extract myself from the situation.

  “Okay,” I say cautiously, holding my hands up in an attempt to prove that I'm not dangerous. “I'm just passing through, yeah? I'm just a harmless, dumb kid who got a little lost on my way home. All I want is to get out of here. I'm not looking for trouble.”

  The wolf's snarl becomes louder, and it bares its teeth as more and more saliva drips down onto the forest floor. So far, I don't think my soothing words are having much impact.

  “I'm just a human,” I add, taking another step back. “You don't want to eat me. Look at me, I'm barely a meal for anyone and -”

  Suddenly the wolf takes a couple of steps forward.

  “No!” I gasp, stumbling back a little. “Don't do that!”

  The wolf snarls even louder.

  “Please don't eat me,” I continue, as tears start to fill my eyes. “I know it's tempting, you're probably really hungry, but I'm begging you to just not do it, okay? I've had a hell of a night and if you're starving, there are several complete morons just sort of back the way I just came from. If you want to eat someone, eat them.”

  I wait, terrified that by running I might just incite this wolf to attack. I swear, the wolf's bigger than me, and there's no way I can fight it off if it comes for me properly.

  Looking around, I spot a tree with some low, stumpy branches that I might just be able to climb. Can wolves climb trees? I have no idea, but I figure that I might be able to clamber up there and then wait until the wolf gets bored and gives up. The blood from my bites is probably making matters worse, and sure enough when I look back at the wolf I see that it's big, moist black snout is twitching in the moonlight. Making a run for the tree might actually be my best and only way out of this mess.

  “I can do this,” I whisper, as I prepare to bolt. “I will do this.”

  It's like the bathroom window all over again.

  Suddenly I make a break for the tree, screaming as I go. I don't even know why I scream, it certainly wasn't part of the plan, but I guess I'm hoping that I can scare the wolf away. Too terrified to look over my shoulder and see what the creature's doing, I leap up and grab the first branches, and then I start hauling myself higher into the tree. I'm not as fit as I should be, but sheer terror helps me keep going and I'm soon able to reach for another branch, then another, and then -

  I scream again as a pair of powerful jaws clamps tight around my right foot. Looking down, I see that the wolf has just managed to reach up to grab me, and now he's starting to tug me hard in a desperate attempt to get me down. I try to pull my foot free, only to find that the pain is too much, and a moment later the wolf starts pulling harder. There's no way I can stay up here, and even if I make it I'll end up losing a foot, but I don't know what else I can use against a wolf.

  In a flash, I remember the silver cross around my neck. It's not much of a weapon, but it's fairly sharp so I take it off and reach down, using the sharpest edge to slash at the wolf's jaws. The first few att
empts don't achieve much, but finally I let out a roar of rage as I try to dig the cross into the monster's gums. Mostly through luck, I manage to gouge a cut between two of its teeth, and I see a rush of blood before the wolf lets go of my foot and tumbles back down onto the forest floor.

  I immediately start climbing again, desperate to make sure that this time the wolf can't reach me. I almost slip a couple of times, but somehow – despite my injured arm and foot – I manage to push through the pain and haul myself higher and higher. I don't stop to check whether or not the wolf is following me, until finally I reach a spot where I can rest for a moment. Turning, I look down over my shoulder and to my immense relief I see that the wolf is snarling and trying to climb the tree, but that it's not having any luck.

  I made it.

  “Screw you!” I yell, even as I struggle to catch my breath. “You're not having another piece of me, asshole!”

  I slump back against the tree, and that's when I realize that I'm not necessarily safe yet. Sure, the wolf can't get to me, but I have no idea how long it'll keep trying. When morning comes, I'll still be stuck in this tree and I doubt many people come this far out into the forest. If the wolf decides to play the waiting game, I've still got a big problem.

  “Help!” I yell, unable to stop myself. Even if those cosplaying idiots are attracted this way, they might at least be willing to help me. Either that, or the wolf'll be so busy eating them, I'll be able to sneak away. “Somebody help me!”

  I'm pretty sure, however, that I'm basically just shouting into the void.

  Pulling my phone out of my bag, I desperately check for signal. Now that I'm up a tree, I should be able to connect to the network, right?

  Wrong.

  Nothing.

  “Come on,” I mutter under my breath as I try to call the police. “I'm begging you, just let this work.”

  After five or six attempts, however, I realize that all I'm doing is draining my battery, which is down to 33% already. I switch the phone off, so that I can try again in the morning, and then I look down and see that the wolf is still trying to get up here.

  Damn, my right foot has a few nasty gashes, although I think I came off pretty well considering it was in the jaws of a wolf. There's blood, but not too much, and so far I can just about live with the pain. I figure adrenaline must be masking the worst of it, and I'm in for an almighty dose of agony just as soon as I get down this goddamn tree. Wolf or no wolf.

  “Please just let me get out of here,” I stammer, as I feel myself struggling to stay conscious. “Please, please, I know I haven't always been the best person in the world but I'll change, I swear. I'll be a saint, I'll never do anything wrong ever again, if you just get me out of this tree!”

  I wait, in case the universe decides to answer.

  “I don't even know who I'm talking to,” I continue, “but...”

  My voice trails as I look up at the starry night sky. And then, just as I'm about to start pleading again, I feel a strange rustling sensation on my arms. I look down and see that the hairs are standing up, all the way from my wrists to my elbows, and a moment later I feel the same thing happening on the back of my neck. There's a strange fuzzy sensation in my ears as well, and then I hear a scrambling sound at the bottom of the tree.

  Looking down to the ground, I see the wolf racing away, as if it's panicked by something.

  Now my hair is starting to lift up from my shoulders, which is pretty weird. I try to hold it down, but then I feel a little spark against my hand, like a tiny static shock. I don't know what's happening, but I swear it feel as if the air all around me is alive, as if my skin is being hit with millions of little pinpricks.

  I think it's time to climb back down out of this tree.

  Suddenly a vast light fills the air above me, blasting down. I cover my eyes and look up, and I'm shocked to see a circle of intense lights hovering low in the sky, centered right above me. As my eyes adjust to the brightness, I realize that the lights are attached to the underside of what looks like a large, dark disc-shaped object. A moment later, some kind of opening appears in the center of the craft, and the trees start rustling loudly all around me.

  I turn to start climbing down, and in that instant the whole world seems to twist, as if down is up and up is down. I start falling up into the sky, and – although I manage to grab onto a branch for a second or two – I quickly lose my grip. I tumble up into the opening between the bright lights, and the last thing I see is the forest far below before the opening's doors start to slide shut.

  “Help!” I scream, as I hang suspended in some kind of chamber and the doors slam together, sealing me in darkness. “Somebody help me!”

  Chapter Four

  My eyes blink open, and I find myself flat on my front in bed, staring at the edge of my bedside table. I blink again, and then I see my alarm clock with the time in big red digits.

  11:50am.

  For a moment, I'm not sure what happened. I feel as if I had some kind of really crazy dream, and after a couple of seconds the details start floating back to the surface of my mind. I was at a party at Ronnie's house, I escaped through the window and began to walk home, then I got attacked by a vampire. I escaped from the vampire and got attacked by a zombie, and then I escaped from the zombie and ended up being chased by a wolf. Then, while I was hiding up in a tree, aliens came and beamed me onto their ship, and then...

  And then?

  Sitting up, I feel a little groggy. To my surprise, I find that I'm still wearing the dress from last night, which is odd since I really don't remember coming home. I'm stiff and sore all over, and then I reach up and touch the side of my neck. Sure enough, there's a slight mark, although it doesn't feel too bad. Clambering out of bed, I'm about to go over to the mirror on my desk, when I put some weight on my right foot and let out an agonized gasp.

  Sliding down onto the floor, I wait as the pain echoes and then fades a little, and then I look down and see that there's a small cut where the wolf bit me. I know none of that stuff last night can possibly have happened, but I certainly seem to have the injuries to match the memories, albeit they don't seem quite as serious as they should. I really don't know what happened to me, but I seem to have been through the wars.

  “Hey, guys,” I say, glancing up at the tank of pet newts on my desk. “You have it so easy. All you have to do is sit around in there and wait to get fed.”

  I sigh, and then I haul myself up and limp over to the mirror, where I take a moment to look at the bite on my neck.

  Well, something sure had a go at me. There are two small incisions, and then I notice that there's a mark on my right arm as well.

  Oh, yeah.

  The zombie bit me.

  “I'm officially losing my mind,” I mutter, as I realize that someone must have spiked my drink at the party. That's the only explanation, right? And then everything after that, including jumping out the window, must have been imagined as part of some kind of weird trip. As I peer closer at a discolored bump on one side of my nose, I can't help thinking that everything feels kind of weird right now.

  What actually happened to me last night?

  ***

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Mom says as I wander – or rather, limp – through to the kitchen in my pajamas. “What time did you get in last night? I didn't hear the door.”

  “Late,” I reply, hoping against hope that she won't notice my limp as I head to the sink. I've managed to cover all my other little injuries, but I just can't stop limping. “I'm not sure exactly what time it was.”

  “Annie, are you okay?” she asks. “Are you limping?”

  “No,” I reply, as I pour myself a glass of water. I take a sip, and then I turn to her. “Yeah. Kinda. It's nothing.”

  “Did you fall over?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You weren't drinking, were you?” She comes over to me and makes a meal out of peering at my eyes. “You know you're not supposed to drink while you're taking
your medication. Alcohol can inhibit its functions and cause you to get poorly again.”

  “Which is why I didn't drink,” I tell her. “I just had a late night, that's all.”

  “Mom,” my little brother Stevie says as he sits at the kitchen table, “I cut my thumb on the tin.”

  “I told you to be careful!” she replies with a sigh. She turns to go over to him, but then she hesitates. “You look absolutely exhausted, Annie,” she adds. “Did you get any sleep at all? You should phone in sick, tell them you can't work today.”

  “I got plenty of sleep,” I reply as I put some toast on and head to the fridge. “I'm not staying home sick. I need the money and -”

  Stopping suddenly, just as I open the fridge door, I realize that there's a really weird smell in the room. Or maybe it's not a smell, exactly, maybe it's more a kind of essence that's lingering in the air. I tell myself that it's nothing, that Mom's probably just cooking something weird, but the essence seems to be getting stronger and I actually feel as if I need to know what it is. And then, slowly, I turn and look over to the table, where Mom's wiping blood away from Stevie's cut thumb.

  Blood.

  That's what I'm picking up.

  The blood on my brother's thumb is somehow calling out to me. It's singing to me, it's trying to tempt me, and I'm starting to get filled with some kind of insatiable hunger. I try to tell myself that I just need some toast and jam, but after a moment I realize that I can't stop looking at my brother's bloodied thumb. It's almost as if all other thoughts are getting pushed out of my head, replaced by a burning need to get over there and...

  I want to lick the blood.

  As sick as it sounds, I want to lick the blood from his thumb, and from the tissue paper as well. I don't know what's wrong with me, I've never been weird like this before, but I'm really not sure that I can control myself much longer. The more I watch my little brother, the more I start thinking about all the blood that's just whooshing and circulating in his veins and arteries. The blood on his thumb is just the beginning, there's so much more in there, so much hot, juicy blood that's filled with iron and richness and the most intense taste, the most amazing strength that I could just take and have for myself and then I'd be better somehow and I just can't stop thinking about the fact that I want more blood on top of the blood that I already have and why shouldn't I have it and if I don't have it then I think I might die and then -