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<h2>28</h2>
<p>Old Mrs Williams saw the bike approach in the distance, just a
blur in the morning mist. She tottered along the road, moving as
quickly as she could, faster than she had moved in years. The
urgency drove her on. Her heart was speeding up, clamouring now in
twists of effort, each beat loud in her ears with the sound of the
sea on a stormy shore.</p>
<p>All she knew was the compulsion to protect the baby. Her stick
dropped form her gnarled hands and she got both arms around the
burden, hugged it tight, and bent her head forward.</p>
<p>A burning sensation ignited under her breastbone. Her breath
plumed out, fast, irregular pants and gasps. She hurried on,
ignoring the creak of ancient muscles and the painful twist in old
tendons that had not been used for so long. Under her ribs, her
heart was thudding away, each beat now a burst of heat. She could
not stop, though her body demanded that she slow down. All of her
was hot and then cold, ripples of alternating temperature bands
flowing down from head to foot.</p>
<p>A sweat broke out and dripped from her pores, and in her ears
she could hear the distressed triple-thud of her pulse.</p>
<p>On another five paces and she gasped for breath, hauling for
air, now almost doubled over. She took another two paces, reached a
hand to steady herself against the wall. Her whole body was
trembling with the enormous effort. The sky darkened, lightened,
darkened again. For an instant her vision failed her, then slowly
came back. The only sound she could hear was the wet and gurgling
pulse in her head.</p>
<p>She tried to walk on, to get to shelter, to see the baby
safe.</p>
<p>Inside her chest something broke with a terrible snap. Instantly
she spun to the left, against the wall, thrown by the force of it.
Her heart kicked once, very hard, a hammer-blow against her ribs,
and then vibrated like a tuning fork. Blinding pain twisted through
her and a blinding light burst all around her, fading away to tiny
sparkles of luminescence that jittered in front of her head. All
sensation faded and the old woman toppled to the ground, her heart
burst from the enormous effort of running with the child.</p>
<hr />
<p><em>Utter desperation flared inside him.</em></p>
<p>It had happened too fast for his primitive reasoning to cope and
now he was in acute danger. The dogs had come at him and he had
needed to dispose of that threat and to do that he had turned his
mind away from the mother and she had betrayed him for a second
time. He had screeched in fear and alarm as they had tumbled from
the wall and the ground had come rushing up at him., he had tried
to get back into her head, to make her stop, and then she had spun
in the air, they both had twisted and had landed with a colossal
thump which for an instant had shocked his senses numb.</p>
<p><em>Move move move!</em> This command had blared, a desperate
and urgent shriek They were coming for him. The mother had moved,
but he had sensed the numbness in her mind and the fear had looped
up again. Above, the sounds of pursuit were loud and confusing.
Here he was exposed and the mother would not move. He dug at her,
put his thoughts deep inside her, felt the broken places and the
hideous pain and he knew that she could not move, no matter how
much he pushed. He reached further, touched the other one, far
overhead. The heat of want hit him, even then, but he had no time.
She was too far away and there were others with her, others who
would kill him. He sensed the hate of the dogs and the little
sparking pulses of anger and fright from the tiny minds of the
crows and he knew that if the pursuers saw him they would hate him
even more and they would destroy him.</p>
<p>Frantic with fear, he turned, squirming in the confines of the
shawl.</p>
<p>And he touched another mind. Instinctively, and without
hesitation, he hooked it. He focused all of his attention on this
new one and grabbed wildly. He felt the connection, locked, and a
huge relief washed through him. The new one was coming, she would
take him away. Even then he sensed her barren emptiness, but that
was no concern,. Flight was the only thing he needed, flight and
protection. He would find the protection later, somewhere to feed.
She was reaching for him and the mother had spasmed, twisted and
tried to crush him...</p>
<p>...and then he was free, swooped up from the mother&#8217;s
grasp, into the air. He had pushed then, pushed hard and the old
one had reacted to protect him from harm. He felt the violence of
her blows, forcing her to move beyond her strength, an act that
started to drain her immediately. The mother fell back to the
ground and he pushed again, knowing he had to be away from
here.</p>
<p>She held him in weak arms and he sensed the ruination of her
body and he knew he had to find a mother, find one fast. This one
could not last long.</p>
<p>And then, to his utter, feral dismay, she started to falter.
Something inside her broke with a violent crack of vibration.</p>
<p>He screeched aloud, a thin, whistling, metallic sound that got
lost in the mist coming off the canal. In desperation he dug his
mind into her, reaching for something to command, touched the
damaged part and knew she was finished. The blood was pooling in
her abdomen, pouring out from her ruptured heart, even as she began
to slump.</p>
<p>His mind bawled in desperation while behind him, he knew the
killers were coming.</p>
<p>_____</p>
<p>Little Kirsty Cameron came down the road on her brother&#8217;s
bike which was too big for her and if he knew she&#8217;d taken it
out in the snow, she&#8217;d be in trouble, but he had been in bed
with a cold since Christmas Eve and that&#8217;s why she was out on
a winter&#8217;s morning, heading down to the baker&#8217;s shop
for bread while her mother attended to Kirsty&#8217;s younger
sisters. The girl had been one of the youngsters haring down the
slope of the hill on the day Ginny Marsden had left the station and
ponderously ascended the road up to old Mrs Cosgrove&#8217;s house.
On that day, something had snagged her attention and she had turned
her head, almost falling off the bike in the process. On this
winter day, at ten years old, she was just big enough to reach the
pedals as the bike trundled down the gentle slope, crunching the
snow beneath its treads. She reached the flat, brown pigtails
swinging, eyes down, trying to avoid the piles of slush, tongue
sticking out of the corner of her mouth in a grimace of
concentration. Ahead of her, through the thin veil of falling snow
she saw someone walking quickly, huddled close to the wall. She
braked, slowed, careful lest she hit a pedestrian. It was only when
she got to within twenty five yards that she recognised old Mrs
Williams.</p>
<p>Immediately she slowed further. The old lady didn&#8217;t have
her trolley, or her stick. She was carrying something in her arms
and walking in jerky, speedy steps. Kirsty stopped her bike. She
was a bright girl. Old Mrs Williams was never without her trolley
and her walking stick, and she always walked at a snail&#8217;s
pace, each step an effort on her ancient heart. Just as Kirsty
stopped, the old woman&#8217;s head arched upwards to face the sky.
She uttered a groan and spun sideways to hit against the wall.
Without hesitation the girl laid the bike on the ground and ran to
help.</p>
<p>The old lady hit against the wall. A terrible, futile little
moan came blurting out of her slack mouth and she crashed backwards
like a falling log. Her head hit the concrete with a sickening
crack. She did not even twitch.</p>
<p>&#8220;Are you all right?&#8221; Kirsty asked, suddenly scared.
She did not know what to think, or what to do, and she was
frightened in case the old woman was dead. She did not want to look
into a dead person&#8217;s eyes.</p>
<p>She got to within three paces of the body and stopped. The old
woman was lying with her head to the side. Her scarf had pulled
back from her freckled head where the scalp showed through the
thin, scant hair. A few snowflakes landed on her face, as they had
landed on Kate Park, and quickly melted. The woman&#8217;s mouth
was slackly open and her top row of false teeth had slipped out,
giving her a graceless, somehow imbecilic appearance.</p>
<p>On her chest, something moved.</p>
<p><em>Mother me</em></p>
<p>A voice whispered inside her head, not quite in words, but in a
context she understood.</p>
<p>&#8220;What?&#8221; the girl asked. She leaned forward, nerves
making her hands shake. She thought she should call an ambulance,
or at least get across to the baker&#8217;s shop and tell someone.
Old Mrs Williams stared at the sky through the open eye. The other
was closed in a ghastly, humourless wink. Kirsty knew she was dead,
but didn&#8217;t want to believe it.</p>
<p>&#8220;Are you all right?&#8221; she asked again.</p>
<p><em>Mother me! Mother me!</em></p>
<p>The pulse came stronger. The bundle was moving and for an
instant Kirsty thought it was a small dog wrapped up. Maybe Mrs
Williams&#8217; great grandson was staying for the holidays and had
brought his pet spaniel. She bent down, suddenly curious, drawn to
the thing. She pulled back the coverlet.</p>
<p>A face stretched out from the cloth and she jerked back in
terror. Lizard eyes blinked then closed. Her heart thrummed in
shock. Her mouth opened and then the thing reached and took her. It
looked into her head and in that moment her vision crackled and
everything wavered. Just as abruptly, the world came back into
focus again and she saw the baby.</p>
<p><em>No No No,</em> she told herself. It&#8217;s not a baby
it&#8217;s <em>something else</em>...</p>
<p>Despite her denial and the swelling fear, the girl lifted the
thing, grunting with the effort of hoisting its weight. It poked
into her head and she tried to shy away from it. It reached and
stabbed and dug and Kirsty tried to scream but found her mouth
would not work. It was a baby and it was a freak, both at the same
time.</p>
<p>It held her in mental manacles, trying to insinuate itself, but
she fought against it, her mind swinging between sudden need and
dreadful loathing.</p>
<p><em>No No NO</em></p>
<p>It&#8217;s glands pulsed, exploded weakly, denuded of their
potency by the effort of taking the old one. The scent surrounded
them but the wind blew it away.</p>
<p>Little Kirsty squawked. Twin pains flared under the skin on the
front of her chest and a different, more agonising tearing
sensation hooked in her belly. She swung away, still holding the
thing, part of her trying to clutch it tight, the other attempting
to throw it away. It pulsed again, giving its last and the girl
cried out in utter terror.</p>
<p>Little breasts budded and started to swell on her narrow,
childlike ribs. Flesh gathered, immature glands suddenly expanded,
dilated, sent hormones flooding her system. Pain twisted on her
skin as it ballooned, forced out by the preposterous growth. Down
between her skinny hips, her ovaries began to enlarge, draining
oestrogen and progesterone into a system that was not yet ready for
it. Instant and devastating puberty came crashing in on the little
girl. A dreadful flush of heat sizzled inside her. She cried out in
real pain and real fright.</p>
<p>Somebody called from down the street. The little girl staggered
and crashed against the railway wall. On her chest the thing glared
at her and tried to make her move. Kirsty stumbled forwards, unable
to cope with the sudden, urgent flood of chemicals in her veins.
Her heart was fluttering like a bird&#8217;s. The thing was poking
and prodding at her head, but she was too young for it. She was not
yet a woman and for that reason alone, it could not completely
dominate her.</p>
<p>The girl staggered on, trying to free her mind from it while
inside her the catastrophic physical reactions were beginning to
tear her apart. Without warning she spun and was instantly, very
violently sick.</p>
<hr />
<p>David and Helen came hammering rood the corner under the bridge.
Behind them, on the main road that went through the centre of
Barloan Harbour, they could hear the wail of sirens. Over by the
wall, hardly more than a hundred yards away the old woman was lying
flat out. They reached her in seconds.</p>
<p>&#8220;What the hell?&#8221; David started to ask. The old woman
was clearly dead. Her hands were both arched up from the body,
fingers hooked at the air. Helen remembered the dead cat in Celia
Barker&#8217;s house before it had got up and danced.</p>
<p>&#8220;Where is it?&#8221; she blurted, getting to her feet. At
that moment, the old woman did not matter. She was out of this
fray, finished her long innings. There was nothing they could do
for her. A wide snowflake floated down and settled on the
bloodshot, blinkless eye where it melted and ran.</p>
<p>&#8220;There!&#8221; David bawled. He was already moving across
the road, to the patch of grass along the side of the canal. Just
beyond them, the vast arch of the road bridge loomed. On the grass,
moving in a crouching, staggering run, a little girl was ploughing
through the snow. Just beyond the old woman&#8217;s body, a
boy&#8217;s bike lay on its side on the pavement, its back wheel
still spinning slowly.</p>
<p>&#8220;Jesus,&#8221; Helen spat. &#8220;It&#8217;s got her.
She&#8217;s only a kid.&#8221;</p>
<p>The small frame, making heavy going, was clutching a bulky white
cloth which fluttered with the motion. David was halfway across the
road, feet splashing in the slush. Helen started to follow just as
two patrol cars came roaring round the corner. The leading driver
only saw a shape on the road, hit the brakes. He missed Helen by
three inches. Her heart leapt into her throat as the wind of the
car whooshed past her. The policeman had stamped hard and the car
spun round, pirouetting on the slick surface. Its off-side tyres
hit the pavement beside the woman&#8217;s body, burst
simultaneously with thunderous cracks. The car mounted the kerb,
completely flattened the bike and crumped itself against the wall.
The second car fared better. It managed to stop three inches form
the first. Its driver got out, hands shaking. By this time Helen
and David were running along by the edge of the canal. The three
police officers, two of them women, followed on after checking the
fourth, who was lucky to have got off with a bruised nose and a
staved little finger. He had however, pissed his pants and he did
not want to walk. Two of the other men who had been with them as
they trailed Kate Park through the trees came running out from
under the railway bridge.</p>
<p>The little girl was crying. She was screaming in a high-pitched,
pitiful way, but still she continued to stumble along on the grass.
It pushed and chivvied and she could feel the alien touch of its
mind on the surface of her own and there was nothing she could do
about it. Every time she tried to throw the thing away from her an
intense pain knifed into her head. Her chest was sore as the skin
stretched beyond its elasticity, swelling too quickly, tearing
under its surface. Her little nipples were points of fire and she
could not comprehend what was happening to her. Even if she had
been older, she might not have understood either, but little Kirsty
was only ten.</p>
<p>She tried to stop and it made her move and all the time she was
sure it would kill her the way it had killed old Mrs Williams. She
ran on, unable even to slow down, heading through the thick mist on
the canal side.</p>
<p>David reached her first, tried to get a hand to her collar. She
swerved and he almost fell headlong. Helen had kept up with him, an
enormous black apprehension beginning to build up in her, the
anticipation of catching the thing and a fear of getting close to
it. With that newfound sense she had felt its touch again when it
had reached out from down on the street after Kate Park had jumped
and after that she had felt the pulse of its mind as it grabbed the
old woman. There had been another flare, hot like the updraught
from a brush fire, and she knew that&#8217;s when it took the girl.
Each time, she had sensed it and it had sparked the loathing and
the other, dreadfully hot and frightening want deep within her.</p>
<p>Behind her footsteps clattered on the road then became muffled
thumps as the rest of the pursuit reached the snow of the grass.
David reached, missed. The girl swerved to the left, went through
an ornate clump of azaleas, diving between the thick bushes like a
small animal. David&#8217;s passage was thwarted. He and Helen went
to the left. The others went round the side closest to the
canal.</p>
<p>The girl shrieked and every one of the pursuers heard the
appalling fear in her cry. The two of them swung round just as a
policewoman held her hand up to stop the girl.</p>
<p>Everything happened at once. The child spun, tumbled as the
policewoman grabbed for her, and the officer&#8217;s momentum
carried her forward in a stumbling trip which sent her flat on her
face. One of the uniformed men came barging through the bushes,
cursing hoarsely. Kirsty Cameron got to her feet, moving fast
despite her burden. Helen got a glimpse of greyish pink, just the
curve of a head under the cover of the shawl. A slither of thought
reached out, touched her and she rocked back under the force of it.
A powerful sensation twisted deep in her pelvis.</p>
<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t get close,&#8221; David bawled, suddenly
aware of the reach of the thing. He had felt the sear of energy
radiate outwards and had not known what it was. But this close, he
could feel the mind-burn like a singe on the edge of his
consciousness and the power of it both amazed and appalled him, In
that instant he realised how this thing snared the mothers. The
policewoman either ignored him or did not hear his blurted warning.
She reached again and without warning, the girl ran onto the ice on
the surface of the canal. David grabbed at her, got a finger to her
collar, almost caught her, and then they both plunged through the
thin covering and down into the freezing water. The thing in her
arms was tumbled away onto the ice. It spun on the surface. A
small, thin arm reached out and something screeched with the sound
of cracking glass.</p>
<p>The girl went right under. Her scream was cut off instantly.
David was right behind her and the shards of ice slashed at him as
he went through. Instant cold froze him to the marrow. He gulped,
took in a throatful of slimy water, coughed. The water was black
down there. He reached out, turning as he did so. His feet were
down in the mud and he couldn&#8217;t free them. Panic flared at
the thought of being trapped down here under the ice. He&#8217;d
never get out. That thought galvanised him. He spun quickly and his
feet came free. In front of him a pale shape floated. He reached
for it, inadvertently stuck his little finger up the girl&#8217;s
nose. She bucked, he caught her, grabbed, lifted her above him. Her
head broke the surface and she hauled in a desperate gasp of
air.</p>
<p>Helen saw the thing spin away on the ice, travelling five yards
to settle close to the bank where a stand of reeds stood up from
the surface. Without a thought she went after it. It screeched
soundlessly and a note of singing pain lanced between her temples.
She leapt off the bank and crashed through the reed bank, up to her
thighs in mud and decaying stalks. She got a hand to the shawl,
dragged it towards her, pulling herself back as she did so. She
lifted the bundle, feeling its weight, the powerful squirming of
the thing inside. She turned it round in her hands.</p>
<p>A red eye opened and speared her.</p>
<p>&#8220;Oh my god,&#8221; she managed to blurt.</p>
<p>And then it reached and took her. A force reached right inside
her, touched her depths, and she was lost. Her mouth opened, stayed
that way. It touched again, suddenly strong.</p>
<p><em>Move move move</em> it demanded. The command speared into
her and she reached out to it and it had her. A pulse of pure
energy flooded her mind and she recognised the alien scrape of
mindless hunger yet she was completely powerless to fight it. The
sky went black. The thing closed its eye and locked itself into
her. Helen stumbled back under the force of its command. One of the
men reached for her and she batted his hand away, pushing herself
out from the bank into deeper water. It came up to her waist.</p>
<p>&#8220;What the hell?&#8221; the man blurted, but Helen did not
hear him. Behind the man, a policewoman burst into sudden, braying
hysterics as she picked up some of the pulses blasted out from its
panicked mind. In the water, Helen reached for a floating branch
and held it up.</p>
<p>David got the girl to the bank, literally shoved her up onto the
firm ground. He hauled himself out, gulping for air, gasping with
effort. The other policeman was down at the girl who was crying and
spluttering hysterically. David got to his knees, staggered
breathlessly to his feet, heard a commotion in the water and saw
Helen wade out backwards. In her arms a grey thing was squirming
away from the light.</p>
<p>&#8220;What in the name of fuck is that?&#8221; the policeman
bawled and David could hear the bewildered loathing in his voice.
The shape of the thing rippled and wavered, its lines undefined. It
could have been anything.</p>
<p>But there was a mad look in Helen&#8217;s eyes. His heart
flipped over and a sudden fear shook him. She brandished the thick
piece of wood, warding the others off. Her eyes were wide and
flashing and her teeth were clenched and she looked like an animal,
like a ferocious panther protecting her cubs. In that awful
instant, he knew it had her. Whatever it did, however it achieved
it, it had reached out and taken her.</p>
<p><em>What kind of baby steals a mother</em>?</p>
<p>Now he knew. This ugly, wavering thing had stolen a new
mother.</p>
<p>He did not hesitate for a second. That sudden desperation drive
him on. He ran along the bank, past the floundering policeman and
leapt right in again, pushing through the thin layer of ice beside
the reed-bed. She saw him coming and swung the heavy branch in a
vicious swipe, catching him hard on the ribs. Pain exploded as
something inside cracked, but not as much as it would have done had
his whole body not been already numbed by the freezing canal water.
His momentum carried him forwards, carried him onwards. He landed
with a terrific crack and a huge splash. His full weight hit Helen
and drove her under.</p>
<p>She saw him coming and only saw threat. The other man was
pulling away out of range of her swipe and then she had seen the
shadow in the corner of her eye and she had snarled, knowing this
was an attack. Her lips drew back over clenched teeth and she spat
in animal fury.</p>
<p>He had leapt and she had struck him and then his weight had
cannoned into her and she had screamed. Water went down her throat
and an appalling anger erupted inside her. She reached for him,
trying to scratch at his face and his eyes, trying to claw and rend
to protect her burden.</p>
<p>The water blinded her. She held the baby tight against herself
and shoved at the attacker.</p>
<p>David reared back and slapped her so hard her head whipped
sideways. With his other hand he grabbed at the thing she clutched.
It was shrieking, a strange high and alien quiver of sound, as if
the very air was being torn apart. He reached for it and she turned
and clawed at his face, hissing like a cat. Her nails ripped on his
eyelid and raked down his cheek. Blood poured into his eye,
blinding him on one side.</p>
<p>The thing screamed again, a mental blast of energy that felt
like nails on glass, yet sounded as if it scraped right in the very
centre of his brain.</p>
<p>Anger exploded. Bright hot feral rage erupted inside him,
completely uncontrollable. The thing&#8217;s mindblast had touched
that male part of him and catapulted him right into absolute and
savage frenzy. All he wanted to do was destroy this. The automatic
response to the parasite was to kill it, break it and tear it and
rend it. He reached to drag it from her.</p>
<p>Helen screamed, the sound of a pig in a slaughterhouse. She
lunged at him, mouth wide and all her teeth showing. In that
instant she looked more animal than human. The thing in her arms
was just a blur, its shape rippling and shifting as if it had no
definition. David tried to hit it. She pulled back and he went
flying into the water. Some of it went down his throat and he came
up spluttering.</p>
<p>One of the policemen ventured a foot into the reeds, appalled by
the sudden and incomprehensible violence, unable to understand it.
Just then, the other policewoman began to scream and he turned,
just in tome to see her launch herself at him, both hands hooked
into claws.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hold mother...&#8221; he managed, before her weight
slammed into him and threw him into a dense thicket of scrub
willow. The woman came tumbling after him, trying to hook his eyes
out, driven by the thing&#8217;s foul appeal for protection.</p>
<p>On the bank, young Kirsty Cameron&#8217;s body arched backwards
with such violence the ligaments actually creaked like old wood,
and every muscle in her body shivered as if a powerful electric
shock had surged through her.</p>
<p>In the water, David got to his feet, lunged again for Helen and
the thing in her arms, She saw him coming, screamed wordlessly at
him, desperately trying to reach the bank and be away. He dived
full length, got a hand to her jacket, pulled her back violently.
She slipped, fell, he reached and snatched at the thing, jerked as
hard as he could, and it came tumbling out of her arms.</p>
<p>Helen screamed and then the dreadful contact of its touch
snapped she went spinning backwards, along the side of the bank,
out of the reeds and into deep water. A hand came reaching for her
and hauled her back up again and she gulped, coughing slimy liquid
which ran down from each nostril. The baby was calling for her,
sending out its shivery demand and she tried desperately to
respond, but David shoved her away. She was crying and shrieking at
the top of her voice, in between coughing splutters. Another hand
reached down, strong and steady and lifted her straight out of the
water. David went spinning away out of view with the small thing in
his hands.</p>
<hr />
<p><em>He was dragged down in the water</em>.</p>
<p>The mother was screaming for him as she was pulled away and
there was nothing he could do. The man had hit him, almost hard
enough to break his neck, and a dreadful realisation had burst on
him. He had been caught and there was no mother and the one he
wanted was gone.</p>
<p>Under the water, his glassy eyes opened and he tried to squirm
away. It was no use, he was caught in the fronds of cloth and he
could not move. His glands opened wide and they filled with water,
drenching him in cold. He pushed at the man&#8217;s mind but could
get no response. He could sense hate and loathing and beneath it,
an awful anger. Underneath the anger there was a sea of fear that
mirrored his own. It was the primitive and mindless fear of the
alien.</p>
<p>Down they went down into the dark of the mud. He pushed and
squirmed, but the weight kept him down.</p>
<hr />
<p>It had tried to take her and it had almost won. David knew that
as he pushed down under the ice. The creature was in his arms,
twisting and turning, all arms and legs and bones, a scrawny yet
powerful thing. He could feel its shape through the cloth and knew
it had no right to exist. It was a spidery, reptilian gargoyle of a
thing. It was a parasite.</p>
<p>The sizzling anger still suffused him, a desperate, mindless
lust to kill. It was such a primitive need that it by-passed all
his other conditioning, everything he had learned. It was simply a
basic drive.</p>
<p>The thing pulsed at him, sharp shards of thought, glassy blades
of mental energy that stabbed in is head, searing the back of his
eyes, making the nerves in his teeth jump and tingle, sending
corkscrews of hurt into his bones. But he could not help himself,
he had to kill it. The pain was somewhere inside him, but the anger
flooded the hurt and smothered it.</p>
<p><em>Take me take me take me</em>. The creature&#8217;s wordless
command blasted out. He felt it reach and touch, on the inside of
his skull, and it felt like some rotting poison, some dreadful
infection trying to find a way in. He shuddered, drawing away from
it. It sensed retreat, pulsed harder.</p>
<p>The awesome anger surged up inside him, he shook his head,
unable to control himself. In that instant he was locked with the
creature. Nothing else existed except he and it and the need to
destroy it. He twisted his body and forced himself downwards, right
under the surface at the far end of the reed bed where the water
swooped to its canal depth. It was freezing cold, but he did not
care, did not even feel it. For the past eleven days he had
followed its trail of feeding, its trail of destruction and he knew
that this was beyond any natural law, or any law of man. This was
beyond any nature he had ever heard of. It had almost taken Helen
Lamont and that would have been enough for David if any form of
rational thought could break through the ramparts of his monumental
anger.</p>
<p>He went down to the bottom of the canal and pushed the thing
right into the mud, forcing it down into the ooze and kicked his
feet hard to force it further, shoving hard, shoving with all the
strength of his body. He kept it there, down under the silt until
it stopped moving.</p>
<p>The mind scream went on and on, but it was weakening all the
time. He pushed, up to his shoulders in mud down in the dark, until
the shivering stopped and the mental pulses died away. Whatever
life was in this thing guttered and failed. David stayed there
until everything began to fade away and just before the cold came
and took him, a wonderful surge of triumph swept through him at the
knowledge that he had beaten this thing. His last sensation was one
of dim regret that he would not see Helen again, for in his fading
consciousness he realised that indeed, she was the one for him.</p>
<p>He knew that she had been worth dying for.</p>
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