The Middlewych Experiment Page 7

  Heading to the sidewalk and then along the street, I set off for Moolio's, determined to end this mystery once and for all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So... Hey,” I say, standing in the kitchen and watching as Fletcher starts opening another box of bread. “Working again, huh?”

  “I got six hours at home before I had to come back in,” he mutters, before casting an annoyed glance at me. “Thanks for disappearing on me last night, by the way. I was only gone, like, half an hour. If Dean had turned up and found the place completely unmanned, he'd have fired your ass.”

  “Yeah, totally,” I reply. “Thanks for not telling him.”

  “What was so important that you had to rush off?” he asks.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “It can't have been nothing.”

  “Girl things.”

  “Gross.”

  “So Dean's not in at the moment?”

  “His brother called and said he's staying home sick today.” He shrugs as he starts taking packs of bread out of the box. “That man is so goddamn lazy. If one of us is sick, he demands a note from the doctor, but he's allowed to just take off whenever he feels like it.”

  “True,” I reply. “I didn't even know he had a brother.”

  “Plus, the back door's busted.”

  “It is?”

  “I don't know what's wrong with it, but I think someone drove into the dumpsters last night. Fixing it's not my job, though. Dean can get some other poor bastard to do that.”

  “Sure,” I reply, thinking back to all the damage that the bear caused. Even that sentence feels ridiculous, but then I remind myself that there's still no proof that the bear was here.

  I pause for a moment, wondering exactly how to play this. After a few seconds, however, I realize that Fletcher's already getting on with things, and that he actually doesn't give a damn that I'm here. I take a step back, and then I go through to the office, which – as usual – has been left unlocked.

  Taking a seat at Dean's desk, I quickly find the post-it note with his log-in credentials. Once I'm into the system, I pull up the files from the cameras, but I'm immediately disappointed. Out of fifteen supposed cameras here at the restaurant, a grand total of two are actually working, and those are both in the employee rest room. In fact, one of them's in the changing room, which is kinda wrong but also totally typical of Dean.

  Sighing, I lean back in the chair, and then I spot a series of books piled next to the monitor. Apparently Dean has some serious issues, because he has a lot of self-help titles, covering a wide range of problems. One book in particular, however, catches my attention, and I slide it out and take a look at the title on the cover: Coping Strategies For the Unloved Only Child.

  If Dean's an only child, then how could his 'brother' have called in this morning to say that he's sick?

  ***

  As I stop outside Dean's apartment building, I already know that this is highly inappropriate. For all I know, the man on the phone was Dean's boyfriend, or the book was just loaned to him by someone, or there's some other explanation for this weirdness. Still, I've got a strange tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach, and I can't shake the feeling that something's very wrong here.

  I glance around, to make sure that I'm not being followed by those goons who came to the house earlier, and then I make my way to the building's front door, which has conveniently been left wedged open. I swear, people in Middlewych are so dumb, one day they're all gonna just get robbed or murdered. Once I'm in the stairwell, I start heading higher up through the building. Each door has a little name plaque, and finally I get to the top floor and see Dean's name.

  And guess what?

  His door has also been left open.

  This whole situation is starting to feel extra creepy, and strangely filled with coincidences, but I can't back away now. I carefully push the door open and look through into the apartment, which seems pretty empty.

  “Hello?” I say cautiously, tapping gently against the door. “Uh, Dean? It's Annie. Annie Mackenzie from work. Are you here?”

  I wait, but there's no reply. It's pretty obvious that nobody's home, and I know I should just turn around and get out of here. Just as I'm about to do that, however, I hear a brief, faint gurgling sound coming from one of the rooms, and I'm filled with the sense that I'm not alone here. It's as if some extra awareness has flicked to life somewhere in my mind, because I swear I can almost feel a presence in the apartment. There's another mind here, close to my mind, and it almost seems to be waiting for me.

  “Okay, Dean,” I call out, “I'm coming in to check that you're not in trouble.”

  I try to take a step forward, but to my surprise I find that something seems to be stopping me. I try again, and the result is the same. It's not that there's any kind of barrier in front of me; instead, it's as if some deep-down part of me simply feels that I can't enter the apartment unless...

  That's weird.

  I feel as if I can't enter unless I'm invited.

  “Hey,” I continue, “Dean, do you mind if I come in?”

  I wait, but there's no reply.

  “Dean,” I say after a moment, “if you don't want me to come in, let me know in the next five seconds.”

  Again, I wait, while counting to five. Then, finally, I manage to force myself to step forward. I still feel as if I shouldn't be doing this, but my body's absolute refusal to walk has at least abated.

  If you'd told me even a day ago that I'd ever willingly come to Dean's home, I'd have assumed you were insane. Right now, however, I find myself stepping cautiously into his hallway, at which point I can't help but notice a strange, fusty smell in the air. There's totally a part of me that wants to turn round and get the hell out of here, yet I still take a couple of steps forward, as if I'm drawn to whatever's lurking in this apartment. As I reach the door to the front room, I feel my chest tightening with apprehension, but I force myself to keep going until finally I spot a pair of legs coming into view.

  “Dean?” I say, realizing that he seems to be flat on his back, down on the floor. “Are you okay?”

  When he still doesn't reply, I take another step forward, entering the room.

  “Hey, Dean,” I continue, even though I'm starting to spot what looks like blood soaked into the carpet, “what -”

  Suddenly I let out a shocked gasp and take a step back as I see Dean's body. Or, at least, what's left of him. His legs and waist are still intact, but the rest of him has been torn away. Thick, dark red tendrils are attached to the torn meat, and those tendrils lead up to a large, round mass of muscle and blood that's lurking high up in the corner of the room. As my eyes open wide with horror, one of the tendrils twitches and I see that it's slightly translucent, and I watch as a chunk of Dean's corpse is sent up through the tendril and into the main mass of this creature.

  It's eating him.

  I turn to run out of the room, but at that moment the door inexplicably swings shut. I grab the handle, but something's holding it on the door's other side, sealing me in here.

  “Hey!” I yell, banging my fists against the wood. “Let me out!”

  I try the handle again, and for a moment I almost manage to get it to turn, but then it sticks. I swear there was nobody else out there in the hallway, but it's as if someone's deliberately keeping me in this room. Maybe that same person also made sure that the doors were all open for me when I came to the building.

  Something bangs against my left foot, and I turn to see that one of the tendrils has lashed out toward me. I step out of the way, away from the door, and the tendril rolls and flicks on the floor. I can see a ring of tiny, sharp teeth set around a gaping hole in the tendril's end, with thick, goopy saliva dribbling out onto the carpet. A moment later, the tendrils twists and moves toward me again, but I'm able to once more step out of the way. This thing might look nasty, but it doesn't seem to be particularly fast, so I hurry to the window, which turns out to be locked.

&nbs
p; Grabbing a chair, I smash the glass, and then I look outside. There's a long drop down to the parking lot, but a moment later I spot a drainpipe that I figure I can climb down.

  I start climbing out, and then something sharp slices into my neck. I turn to see that one of the tendrils is attached to me, and it's already chewing through my skin. I pull it away and throw it to the floor, and then I carefully climb out and take hold of the drainpipe. I steady myself for a moment, before shifting off the ledge and grabbing the drainpipe properly.

  Instantly, the entire drainpipe breaks away from the wall, and I cry out as I fall. My cry is broken a few seconds later, however, as I slam into the concrete far below.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That hurt.

  Rolling onto my side, I feel a sharp pain running all the way up my chest and into my shoulders. Did my head hit the ground? I'm not sure, but when I look up toward the window I see that I fell five storeys, which means I should definitely have more than a 'sharp pain'.

  I should be dead.

  Gasping, I haul myself up. I feel kinda dizzy and light-headed, and I quickly have to steady myself against the wall. I swear, it's as if all my bones are vibrating, to the extent that I'm worried my entire body might start shaking itself apart. I guess that's what happens when you fall five floors and land on a patch of concrete, although to be honest that part still doesn't quite make sense. People don't survive falls of that magnitude, and they certainly wouldn't get up and start walking around.

  Something's not right here.

  A moment later, hearing the sound of vehicles approaching, I turn and see three cars pulling up in the parking lot. Two of them are police cruisers with flashing lights, while the third is a dark car with tinted windows. My vision briefly blurs, as if some part of my brain is busy resetting itself, and then I watch as several figures start stepping out of the cars. At first I can't really make the figures out very well, but then – as they start to come closer – I realize that I recognize the two men who came to the house earlier.

  How did they find me here? Have they been following me this whole time?

  “Good afternoon, Anne,” Charles says, stopping a little way from me. “Please don't take this the wrong way, but I have to say that you look a little out-of-sorts. Do you think we can maybe help you out?”

  “I'm fine,” I murmur, although my voice is slurred and I feel as if I might be going to pass out at any moment. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Did you take a tumble?” he asks, stepping a little closer. “That's okay, Anne. We all take tumbles now and again. What are you doing here, anyway? You're on the wrong side of town, aren't you?”

  “I'm fine,” I say again, although I feel more light-headed than ever. I squint, trying to focus my blurred vision a little more clearly. “I'm just... I just need to go home, that's all. I need to go home and sleep. I haven't been sleeping very well lately.”

  That's an understatement. I've barely slept at all over the past two nights, although I seem to have been knocked unconscious a few times. Does that count?

  “I don't think I'm comfortable just leaving you here,” Charles says, coming closer and reaching a hand out toward me. “Anne, how about we -”

  “Don't touch me!” I scream, suddenly stepping toward him and snarling, letting out a deep hissing sound.

  Immediately shocked by my own behavior, I step back again. I don't know exactly what happened, but for a moment there I actually seemed to lose control. When I look at Charles, I see genuine shock on his face, and then he turns and gestures toward the police officers, as if he's warning them to stay back.

  “I'm sorry,” I stammer, reaching up and touching the side of my face, finding that it's a little clammy. “I'm not feeling too well, I think I need to go and rest at home for a while. I'll be fine, I just... I need to rest.”

  “Let's take this nice and slow,” Charles replies. “Real slow, do you understand? Nobody needs to get hurt here, Anne, but we do have to work together. Do you think we can do that?”

  “Annie,” I whisper.

  “What was that?”

  “Annie,” I reply, as I feel myself getting weaker and weaker. “My name... Annie...”

  “Okay, fine,” he says, holding his hands up, “I'm sorry, obviously I got that wrong. So, Annie, do you want to come and have a little chat with us back at our base? It sure would be good to figure out exactly how things are going.”

  “I want to go home,” I tell him.

  “And you will. Eventually. But right now, we -”

  “I'm going home,” I say, stumbling forward but immediately having to steady myself against the wall again. I feel as if I'm starting to panic, and for some reason I really don't want any of these people to touch me. The sun is irritating my skin, and I'm getting hungrier and hungrier, and after a moment I look up at the sky and try to spot the moon. Sometimes that moon's visible even in the middle of the day, and I swear I feel as if I can feel the moon tugging at me, as if it wants to pluck me up off the ground and pull me close for a deep embrace.

  “Annie?”

  Startled, I turn to Charles again, and I realize I was letting my mind wander. He's come closer again, and I can finally see his face properly. To my surprise, I realize that he actually looks scared.

  Of me.

  “You're going to come with us,” he says firmly. “You don't want to make this awkward, do you? I'm sure you want to cooperate and just do exactly what I ask. Agreed?”

  I try to tell him – again – that I just want to go home, but I can't get the words out. I feel as if everything from the past few days has finally caught up to me: the bites, the injured ribs, not to mention the fall from a high window just a few minutes ago. Focusing really hard, I look around, and I see that there are now at least half a dozen cops starting to spread out as if they want to encircle me. This Charles guy is trying to act friendly, but he's come prepared and I don't think he's going to take no for an answer.

  They want to hurt me.

  “Nobody's going to hurt you, Annie,” he continues, stepping even closer as I struggle to keep from sliding down to the floor. “We're all on the same side.”

  “Leave me alone,” I snarl, as I feel the anger and panic starting to rise in my chest. “Stay away.”

  “We're here to help you. I understand that you're scared, but being scared won't change anything. We're going to take you to a place where you can get exactly what you need. You want to understand what's happening to you, don't you?”

  “Please don't touch me,” I continue, and now my body seems to be absolutely buzzing with energy, even as I feel that I'm about to collapse. “Just leave me alone. I can figure it out.”

  “You can't, Annie,” he replies, sounding very calm now. “We're going to help you.”

  He reaches out to grab my arm.

  “Don't touch me!” I say firmly.

  “Everything's going to be alright.”

  “DON'T TOUCH ME!” I scream, and suddenly I turn to him.

  In a flash, everything changes. My scream gets louder and louder, until something seems to explode all around me. I briefly spot Charles staring at me with a shocked expression, but then I drop to my hands and knees as I feel the energy erupting from every cell in my body. I'm still screaming, I can't stop myself, and the ground is thundering beneath me like some kind of roller-coaster. For a few seconds, maybe longer, it's as if all the power in the world is somehow flowing through me and then radiating out, and I feel a slow pain starting to build in my chest until – as suddenly as it began – the sensation ends.

  Letting out a pained “oof”, I drop down onto my side.

  It's over.

  Gasping for breath, and not really understanding what just happened, I blink a couple of times as I stare down at the dirt beneath me, and then I look over at Charles.

  Or, rather, at the spot where Charles used to be standing. He's gone, and after a moment I realize that the cars and the cops are gone too. Now there's nothing a
round me except scorched, barren soil. Even when I turn and look over my shoulder, toward Dean's apartment building, there's just nothing to see except the wrecked ground spreading to the horizon. The building's gone too.

  And that's not all.

  I turn and look the other way, but I still don't see anything except the ground. My head feels fuzzy, but I force myself to get to my feet. I reach out to steady myself, but there's nothing to steady myself against so I fall back down a few times before finally managing to stand. Even then, I'm swaying like crazy, and I have to really focus on staying upright as I start to look all around.

  It's gone.

  All of it.

  Not just Charles and his friends, not just Dean's apartment building, but everything. I tell myself that I'm wrong, that I have to be delusional, but as I continue to turn around and look for something familiar, I feel a growing sense of panic as I realize that there's not a building or a landmark in sight. As far as the eye can see, to the horizon in every direction, there's nothing but flat, bare land.

  The entire town, all of Middlewych, has been destroyed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Hello?” I call out, as a light breeze blows dusty rubble along what used to be Main Street. “Is anyone... I... Is anyone here?”

  I've made it back to the center of town, but the center of town isn't actually here anymore. Every single building is gone, and there isn't even much rubble; instead, the bricks seem to have been vaporized, leaving nothing much behind except vague lines that form the grids of the old roads. All the trees are gone too, as are the streetlights and the trashcans and the cars. It's as if some kind of huge force ripped through the town, destroying everything that used to stand here, and leaving nothing but wasteland.