Fallow Heart Page 6
“I have told your parents that I work for the Government,” Matilda explained, “and, technically, that’s true. My company does liaise with your government, when the need calls for it.”
“Your company?” Lori repeated.
“Demonicus Capitulum,” Matilda replied.
She wedged her thumb hard into the wallet, revealing another card beneath the first. Here, there was a logo bearing the letters DC in ornate script. Beneath that, however, the lettering changed to another style, one that Lori was beginning to find all too familiar. She saw it again, mingled in amongst other words, the curving capital E shape, the two j shapes, one dotted and one not. Lori leaned closer to see the new card, but Matilda was already snapping the wallet shut. She put it away, her face a picture of calm.
“My job is to represent the Sown, Lorelai,” Matilda explained. “It’s what you’ve become. I wish I could tell you that this was all some delirium caused by a real disease, but that explanation is only for those who can’t be told the truth. The monster that attacked you… it was real.”
It was a strange feeling, to be told what she already knew. Lori felt the leaden weight of truth sinking deep into her every limb, like the gravity of the world had increased ever so slightly. The flash of the sticky, fetid maw of the beast raced past her thoughts in full living colour, and the horrors which followed were a blur of blood. Lori’s mouth was dry when she next tried to speak, her words eked out in a whisper.
“Did that thing kill Pauline too?”
Matilda frowned, her eyes cast away for a moment.
“It would be remiss of me to confirm that before the full investigation takes place,” she replied, “but it’s safe to say that Detective Walker won’t find a human culprit, no matter how hard he looks.”
The door opened. Lori’s eyes snapped to it, terrified that her mother had been eavesdropping outside. She was surprised by the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man entering the room, closing the door swiftly behind him. He paused, shaking out his trouser leg, then came to his full height like a soldier at attention. Matilda gave him a nod, and he let his head bow in deference for a moment. His skin was dark as coal, one large hand gripping something that looked like a birdcage. It was covered in a plastic sheet, the same brown shade as the newcomer’s suit, and when the man laid the cage on the end of Lori’s bed, Matilda shook her head. He transferred it to the end of the spare bed instead, nearer to Matilda.
“Lorelai, this is Mr Allardyce,” she explained, “you’ll be seeing a lot of him whilst you adjust.”
Allardyce smiled, and there was a warmth about him that Matilda didn’t possess. The imposing figure did not step forward, but set his huge arms behind his back, waiting.
“It appears I’m early,” he said, the twang of an East London accent catching Lori’s ear. “Sorry boss. Would you like me to go back?”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Matilda replied. “In fact, it might be better to do this the other way around. Lori, do you think you could look at something for me?”
Lori’s eyes hadn’t strayed far from the birdcage from the moment it entered the room. She nodded, feeling her skin tingle as Allardyce leaned over the cage. His deft fingers pulled back the nearest edge of the plastic, easing it up over the dome to reveal the contents within. There was a cloud of silver smoke, sifting its way out between the black bars of the container, and it took several agonising seconds to clear. All the while, Lori leaned closer, her every nerve pushing her forward, until Matilda put an icy hand across her collarbones to keep her still. Amid the smoke, a shape was forming. And moving.
“Oh my God,” Lori breathed.
“We believe the creature that attacked you was of this variety,” Matilda said. Her tone never shifted. She could just as easily have been talking about what Lori had for tea last night. “Can you confirm it?”
Her stomach gave a tight twitch, but Lori stared on, aghast. The creature in the cage was about the size of a newborn baby, but it had oversized haunches where its arms should have been, and woolly, muscular legs like those of a bison. Its small face was covered in the same tough, black skin that dog’s noses were made of, and surrounded by wiry fur that concealed its closed eyes. Lori studied the face, looking at the forehead, where two tiny black stumps were beginning to poke out of the wiry fringe. The creature’s eyes flickered open and it was there: a flash of crimson. Lori pulled back sharply, taking in a breath.
“Do these things grow… horns, or antlers, when they get older?” she asked.
“They do indeed,” Allardyce replied, his head bowed.
The creature was beginning to cry. It made strange little wailing sounds, pitchy and irritating, and Matilda cast a concerned glance to the door leading back to the rest of the van. Allardyce rattled the cage a little, and the mini-beast grew quiet.
“How long?” Matilda asked him.
“I shouldn’t worry,” he answered with a small smile.
Matilda nodded, her gaze finally returning to Lori. A numbness had added itself to the leaden feeling, and Lori managed to slump back into her sitting position with Matilda’s guidance.
“I’m sorry if that came as something of a shock,” Matilda said quietly, “but I felt you could handle it, you see? You were very calm when I told you that the Cervinae was real. Usually, we use the young as a kind of proof that such creatures exist. We have to chase the Sown down a few times to convince them, after they run away screaming.”
Lori’s mind clicked back into place.
“So you get to the parents first,” she said, nodding slowly, “and tell them their kid’s sick. Bring your paperwork and your proof so the kid can’t argue.”
Matilda folded her sharp little arms.
“It seems cruel, but can you imagine the panic if everyone knew that demons were real?” she replied. “For your parents, it is easier to tell them that you’re ill. Having delusions, nightmares, sleepwalking, all the symptoms explained neatly. For you, the truth is much less easy to handle.”
Lori swallowed the invisible lump in her throat.
“And the truth is?” she breathed.
“That the Cervinae who attacked you on Friday has infected you,” Matilda said, with all the seriousness in the world. “A demon is growing inside you, Lorelai.”
Lori’s eyes raced back to the cage. The little creature within was wriggling onto its front, starting to cry again.
“Jesus!” Lori exclaimed. “I’m not going to give birth to one of those things, am I?”
“Nothing quite so human as that, no,” Matilda replied. “What’s pertinent right now is that you don’t panic. The DC is here to help you. Your parents have the details to send you to a treatment centre in Chester. It looks like a hospital, of sorts, and in some ways, it is. There, the DC will help you better understand your scar.”
Lori’s hand travelled before she could stop it, hovering over the crescent moon beneath her top.
“At the moment, it’s all energy, Lorelai,” Matilda continued. “The Cervinae’s blood mixed with your own in your heart, and now that blood is everywhere within you. There will be changes. The future, for you, is not what it once was, but the DC is here to help. For now, you must rest. Mr Allardyce will see you tomorrow at the treatment centre, and all will be well.”
Lori’s mouth was open. She wasn’t sure when it had fallen that way, but now she snapped it shut again. She looked from Matilda to Allardyce, whose smile was patient still. The little demon in the cage gave another cry, and Lori was surprised to see its tiny chest heaving deeply. It looked awful, suddenly smaller and greyer than a moment ago, its fuzzy skin growing hollow every time it gasped for breath. The creature was coated in slick sheen of sweat, struggling to cry out between its tiny gasps. Lori’s heart gave a sharp ache.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.
In reply, Allardyce covered it over again with the shiny brown plastic.
“I ought to go,” he said, “but I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Blake.�
�
Lori watched his tall form turning in her tiny little bedroom. He struggled to slide through the doorway sideways, the cage well out of sight before him. When the door shut swiftly again behind him, Matilda listened carefully for a moment. Then, she got to her feet. Lori did the same, almost bounding straight into the woman for the lack of space between them.
“You can’t go,” Lori pleaded. “There’s so much I don’t understand. Please Matilda, what’s going to happen to me?”
“The process of understanding begins tomorrow,” Matilda said, her voice soft and low once more. “Rest is key, Lorelai. Your parents will make sure that you rest between now and then.”
“But-” Lori interrupted.
A panic gripped her, the sensation of being marooned on a desert island. Matilda’s sharp gaze softened a little.
“One more question,” she conceded. “Then I must go.”
Lori took a breath, her mind whirling with everything that she wanted to know. There was so much that was so strange, so new, so terrifying. A lot of things didn’t make sense. One of them rose to the forefront of Lori’s mind, and she clung to it.
“How did you find out what happened to me?” she asked. “I thought I was alone in that alley when the… the Cervinae thing attacked me.”
Matilda shook her head, her perfect curtain of hair swaying.
“There was a witness,” she explained. She cocked her head to one side. “Has anyone approached you, Lorelai? Anyone new who might want to seek you out?”
Kasabian. How else could he have gotten hold of her bag? Matilda’s eyes flashed over Lori’s face. She looked away, down at her fidgeting hands. His warning might have been connected after all. If the ‘she’ he’d referred to was Matilda, then the tone of his voice told Lori they weren’t on the same side of this argument.
“No,” Lori said quickly. “It’s been normal. Well, you know, except for the murder.”
“See that it stays that way,” Matilda said. She reached for Lori’s shoulder with that icy touch again. “There are those who would use your newfound state to their advantage, Lorelai. You need to know who your friends are in this world, now more than ever.”
By the time Lori had sunk down onto her tiny bed, Matilda had left the room. It was only a moment later that her mother reopened the door, clutching a hot cup of tea. She sidled into the space silently, putting the tea down on the tiny table between the two bedheads. Lori’s father followed, his shoulders hunched, and the pair of them settled side by side, right where the cage with the tiny creature had been sitting. Dad had the file now, his fingers wedged in where he’d been reading it. Silence weighted the air. Then Lori gave an empty little chuckle.
“What?” said her mother.
“Well,” Lori said as the thought hit her, “this is the longest I’ve ever seen you two go without an argument. That’s something, I guess.”
Her parents exchanged an abashed look. Mum reached out, resting a hand on Lori’s knee.
“It’s all going to be fine,” she said.
Is that all she can say now? Lori thought bitterly. But what else was there?
“You’re sick, but you’ll get better,” her father added, his voice a little more forceful than before. He opened the file, thumbing through and shaking his head. “I… I wish I’d gone ahead and reported that mugging when you told me about it. Matilda… Miss Vane, I mean… She said it happened then? They broke the skin when they hit you… Exposed you to this… awful pathogen or whatever it is?”
Dad glanced up. He looked so hopeful, so full of the story Matilda had spun for him, that Lori couldn’t bear to argue. She only nodded.
“We could have caught this sooner if I’d reported it,” Dad went on.
“It’s done now,” Lori’s mother said firmly. “Let’s not worry. We’ll leave you to rest, love. Your father and I have a lot to read about this condition of yours.”
Lori watched her mother’s not-so-subtle nudge. Dad let his dark eyes linger on Lori a moment longer, and she had to look away. Grief and death and lies upon lies. It was way too much. Perhaps she ought to have run away screaming after all. It might have made her feel better. As her mum and dad got to the doorway, Lori felt that sudden abandonment again. She had to say something, something to stop them from leaving her alone with her thoughts.
“Thank you,” she said, hearing how weak and shaky her own voice was. “You know, for letting them in and everything.”
Mum quirked an eyebrow.
“Them?” she repeated.
“Yeah,” Lori said. “Miss Vane and Mr Allardyce.”
“Who’s Mr Allardyce, sweetheart?” her mother asked.
“The big man,” Lori answered simply. “The one with the birdcage.”
Lori’s chest gave a pang as her parents exchanged another look. To her horror, they still left her alone, closing her bedroom door, shutting her in. She heard her father’s voice beyond the door. He clearly wasn’t used to how thin caravan walls were, because Lori heard every word he said. And every one sank in with a sadness that she couldn’t escape.
“Poor thing. It sounds like the hallucination stage has started already.”
Shock, and the ways it strikes
The water was freezing. Lori awoke to the sudden chill and slosh, gasping wildly. Her head went under, a foul taste flooding her mouth, and she flapped and coughed until she was above the surface again. She was swimming, with no idea why, and the night sky above was black and void of cloud. She blinked desperately to rid her vision of water, taking in the diluted outline of trees and grassy banks to her left and right. Ahead of her was a bridge, one she knew well enough by day to recognise its shape at night.
The river. What the Hell am I doing in the river?
If this was a nightmare, it was a vivid one. Lori paddled hard, starting to kick her numb legs into action. Once she had some kind of balance back in the water, she rubbed hard at her eyes with soaked hands to clear her vision. Bare arms. She was in her pyjamas, on top of everything else. She scrambled to the tall, dark rushes lining a nearby bank, flattening them grab by grab as she pulled herself up onto land once more. Her fingers dug deep into the crumbling earth, her face inches from the bank. Heaving for breath, Lori’s mind raced for some explanation of what was going on.
“Gets pretty nasty when you swallow the water, doesn’t it?” said a voice nearby.
“Great,” Lori breathed, though she didn’t dare voice the rest of her anguish aloud. Of course it’s him.
Who else would be mad enough to be loitering around the riverbank in the dark but Addison? Lori heaved her wet, shivering form over, lying back on the bank. She found Addy in the darkness, a thin silhouette perched on the bridge, his legs dangling over the water like a spider’s. Lori couldn’t make out his face in the pitch of night, but she was certain he’d be grinning that weird little grin of his. She gritted her teeth.
“You didn’t think to help me or anything?” she asked. “You know, what with the drowning and all?”
“What are you, a damsel in distress?” Addy scoffed. “You were doing fine on your own up until a minute ago.”
Lori’s eyes widened a little. How long had he been here? More importantly, how long had she been here, and why didn’t she remember?
“It’s not strange for you to see me in the river, in the middle of the night?” Lori said, spluttering.
She couldn’t admit the truth, at least, not until she knew herself what the truth was. Her vision had adjusted, leaving the night sky inky blue instead of its all-absorbing black. Addy’s silhouette raised itself, walking along the bridge to join her on her side of the bank. For a moment, he was lost in the tall rushes, a predator stalking through the swish of the long grass. Addy crouched when he reached her, and Lori sat up straight again, hugging her wet knees up to her body. Her long pyjama pants clung to her even more than usual, and she could feel the stream of water coming off her long hair, trickling down into the gap where the waistband began.
Lori hugged herself tighter, trying not to think how the clinging clothes looked. She huffed to hide a sniffle. “This from the guy who takes a dip in his underwear.”
“Got me there,” Addy replied.
A strange silence fell between them. It was the first time Lori had ever exchanged more than two sentences with Addison, the first time they’d ever been close enough to see the detail of one another’s faces. Even in the inky dark of night, Lori could make out the thin shape of his lips as they curled up on one side. Addy’s half-smile was accompanied by a little laugh.
“You walked up here about ten minutes ago, in your PJs,” he explained. “I asked you if you were okay, and you ignored me. That’s what you usually do, so I assumed everything was normal.”
That little squirm hit Lori’s stomach. Bitch. The barb stung her, even though she was the one who’d thought of it. All the time she spent wailing about kids like Ryan Wade treating her like crap, and here she was, treating Addy the same way. And for what? Being weirdly obsessed with swimming, that’s all. Lori took a breath, the air turning her lungs to ice.
“All is not normal,” she said in a quiet voice. “I… I think I was sleepwalking.”
“Ah,” Addy replied. “Does that explain Friday night too?”
“What do you mean?” Lori breathed with another shudder.
“Well, I saw you. Outside your van.”
At the time, Lori had written that off as one of her mother’s drunken visions. Now, the thought came back to haunt her with ferocious reality. She turned to Addy, able to make out the shine of his eyes. By the lack of light, they were wide and silvery.
“Could you tell me what I was doing?” she dared to ask.
“Well I was coming back from a night out,” Addy said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ashamed to say I was pretty wasted. But I saw you walking up the path ahead of me as I was coming back into Fir Trees. You went up to your van, and you were carrying something. It looked like a cylinder.”