XXI - Josh
Josh made
his way along the empty factory corridor, unsure where he was going, or how he
was best to find Charlie, the now useless torch clutched in his hand. Like Paige, he hadn’t really wanted to split
up, not after what had happened in the hospital, but also like Paige he hadn’t
wanted to show his fear, although for different reasons. In his mind looking brave and acting the
leader was the only thing holding everything together, certainly for himself
and possibly for everyone else as well.
He was convinced that he needed to be strong if they were going to get
through this.
There was
also the issue of looking good for Paige.
He wanted her to be impressed with him.
There had been a moment back there, just a few seconds really, when he
thought she was going to try kissing him or something. It had been exciting, despite all of the
chaos that surrounded them and he had wanted it. For just a moment he had wanted it desperately, as if a little
sexual gratification would make all things better.
It
doesn’t work like that, he told himself, but he was now burdened with a
sense of sexual frustration which added an extra tension to his
exploration. Combined with his fear of
whatever might be about to happen next, the amount of adrenaline in his body
must have been impressive.
Josh
shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. They were there to find Charlie and then to find a way back out
onto the streets that would lead to the city centre. He had ten minutes to make the best of it before he had to meet
Paige again and there was no point wasting it running ideas around in his head
like bolting horses. he picked up his
pace and made towards another set of steps which rose to a pair of fire
doors. Daylight gleamed through the
cracks between them. There were no
other corridors on this side, nor other doors he could walk through, so he
climbed the steps and pushed the doors open.
Josh
flinched in spite of himself. He had
been expecting a day lit courtyard, part of the strange vision world they had
become a part of, but as soon as the doors swung open the world seemed to
change. There was a courtyard, but it
was dark and filled with fog. Behind
him the corridor was still lit with fluorescent strip lighting and covered in
80s health and safety posters, but outside the factory was a ruin once more.
What
the hell is going on here? he wondered.
There was nothing to do but press onward, however, so he stepped into
the courtyard and began to make his way around it to see if there was another
way out.
He had
only made it half a dozen steps when the doors behind him blew shut, though
there was no great strength to the breeze which stirred the fog. He quickly shot a glance at it over his
shoulder, but there was nothing there, only the same roiling, tenebrous vapours
that swirled before him.
Maybe
this time it’s nothing, he thought, trying to calm himself. His heart was already beating faster, though
and he didn’t really believe his own platitudes. How could it ever be nothing on a night like this?
He took a
deep breath, switched on his torch and proceeded across the courtyard. The artificial light illuminated nothing but
weeds and debris and combined with the echoes of his footsteps it created a
silent sense of desolation, but Josh didn’t feel alone.
There’s
something in the fog, he thought, I don’t know why I know it, but there
is. This courtyard isn’t safe. There’s-
A wall of
mist seemed to move ahead of him. It
didn’t move the way fog ought to, in vaporous, ephemeral tendrils and
drifts. It moved like something alive,
like tentacles of taut, firm muscle; peristaltic, organic, deliberate.
There
something in the fog! Josh screamed in his mind and started backing away,
but whatever it was knew he was
there. It moved towards him, its
grey-white form, like slick black skin covered in ashes, writhing, slithering,
pulsing towards him. Walking wasn’t
quick enough, Josh knew, but he didn’t want to turn to run, didn’t want to let
this thing out of his sight for any length of time.
A wave of
muscle movement swept forwards in a sudden jolt, sending some tentacle-like
mass towards him with incredible speed.
He ducked and rolled, saw only a momentary vision of teeth or tusks, serrated
daggers of bone and a silent noise, like an angry, wet nothingness; a whip of
spider silk cutting the air.
He turned
then; turned and ran towards the door he had left, not noticing the torch
rolling across the courtyard behind him.
Noises that were not noises erupted in the background, and he tried not
to imagine what gargantuan deployments were taking place.
And then
the door was before him. He collided
with it with enough force to shake it on its hinges, but it swung outwards, not
in and so he had to stagger backwards and claw at the handle to attempt to open
it.
It didn’t
budge.
Behind him some creature of
mist and malice was uncoiling, preparing to strike, but he was all alone and the
door was locked.
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