Kiera Hudson & The Lethal Infected (2 page)

Chapter Two

Glancing up into the rear-view mirror, I watched Nev standing alone beside the road, hands thrust into the pockets of his grubby denims, hair blowing about his unshaven face. Why was I treating him so mean? The pain I felt wasn’t his fault. It hadn’t been caused by him. All Nev had wanted to do was be my friend. He also wanted me to pose for him, but I doubted very much that I would ever find the confidence in myself or our friendship to let that happen. But for now, he was the only friend – or the only person that wanted to be my friend in this new world. Could I really risk throwing that away? However much I feared the consequences of me befriending a human, it didn’t mean I had to marry him. What would be the harm in sharing the odd cup of tea with him? Taking a walk every so often along the beach? Could there ever be a problem in doing such things? What if I were never to be
pushed
again? What if I were to stay in this new
where
and
when
for the rest of my life? Could I bear not to have a friend? Could I really spend it alone? There had been a time when I’d happily sit for hours in my chair and stare out of the window, but I had changed. That girl didn’t exist anymore. I had found adventure – I had found love – and going back to sitting by the window and watching the world go by was no longer enough for me. I doubted Potter was sitting by some window and staring out of it. No, he was with Sophie and they were probably… I didn’t even want to start thinking about what they might be doing together. I pushed thoughts of them from my mind. I might not be that naïve, young girl anymore sitting alone in her flat surrounded by paper clippings of the missing, but I was still Kiera Hudson. And I’d learnt how precious friendship was. I had died because of it, but friendship had also saved me. In my dream, Jack had told me that if I were true to myself, then I would be okay – I would get through this. It wasn’t in my nature to turn down the hand of friendship. I couldn’t be ungrateful and I definitely couldn’t ever be unkind or cruel.

So stomping down onto the brake, my car shuddered to a violent halt. Yanking on the gear stick, I threw the car into reverse and headed back down the road to where Nev still stood. My little red Mini shook as it wheezed and sputtered all around me. Reaching the kerb, I leant over and forced open the passenger door.

“Get in,” I said.

“Is it safe?” Nev beamed at me, climbing into the car.

“Very funny,” I sighed, lurching the car forward again.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Nev asked, fixing his seatbelt in place. 

“Who says I’ve had a change of heart?” I smiled sideways at him. “I might have been playing hard to get.”

“Do you want to be got?” Nev asked, a smile breaking across his face.

“I want a friend,” I said, turning to look front. “And I don’t want to spend my birthday alone.”

“What are you going to do?” Nev asked.

“What are we going to do?” I said right back.

With that smile still stretched across his face, Nev said, “I know this nice little place called
The Light House
. It’s a bit expensive, but I sold some paintings recently and…”

“I’ll pay,” I said, heading out of the village. “So where am I taking you?”

“Where are you going?” he asked, winding down the window and letting in some of the warm mid-morning air. 

“I’m heading back to the place where I’m staying and going straight to bed,” I said.

“Sounds perfect,” Nev smiled.

“Alone,” I told him.

“I thought you didn’t want to be alone,” Nev teased.

“Not on my birthday,” I reminded him with a half-smile.

“I thought when you said you were heading home to bed it was going to be
my
birthday,” Nev chuckled mischievously.

“You really are a flirt, aren’t you?” I scowled at him.

“I try,” he said back.

“Too hard perhaps,” I smiled. “So where do you live?”

“This way,” he said, pointing to a narrow road that branched away to the left.

My car rattled over the uneven road, the engine groaning. Nev gripped his seat as if fearing my car might just disintegrate into a pile of rust all about him. To drown out the sound of the labouring engine, I switched on the car radio.
These Days
by Take That started to play.

“So where do you stay?” he asked.

“The Crescent Moon Inn,” I told him.

“Don’t you have a place of your own?”

What did I say? That my real home was a room I rented back in Havensfield in a completely different
where
and
when
? “I’m in between places.”

“Did he throw you out?” Nev asked.

“Who?” I frowned, taking a narrow bend in the road at a crawl.

“This guy,” he said.

“No, I left,” I said. “I
pushed
him away. But I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay,” Nev shrugged.

“What about you?” I asked, changing the subject.

“What about me?”

“What kind of place do you live in?”

“Right there,” he said, pointing again through the windscreen.

I peered in the direction he was pointing. A cottage sat back from the road. A sea of bright yellow rapeseed surrounded it. As we travelled the winding road, I could see that the cottage was made from a sandy coloured Devonshire stone. The roof was thatched and the building was squat, giving the appearance of something from a Tolkien novel.

“That’s real pretty,” I said. “You’re lucky to live in such a place.”

“I don’t live in the cottage,” Nev said. “I rent out the barn – the studio – that’s behind the back of it.”

“Studio, huh?” I smiled.

“Every artist has a studio,” he said, understanding I was teasing him.

I slowed my car to a stop. I looked at the paved path that led up to the front of the cottage. The lawn was neatly cut and the flowerbeds were a spray of colour. “So who lives in the cottage?”

“Mavis Bateman. She’s a widower. Her husband died a few years ago – sometime before I rented the barn – studio,” Nev explained. “I don’t pay much rent, but I do help her out around the place. She finds it hard to get into the Ragged Cove these days because of her arthritis, so I go and do the shopping.”

“So you have a car?” I asked.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head.

“How did you get into town this morning?”

“On my bike,” Nev said a little sheepishly.

“So you’ve left your bike back in town?” I asked. “Why have you let me drive you all the way home if your bike…”

“Because I wanted to get a lift with you, Kiera,” he confessed, his cheeks suddenly glowing red.

“So how are you going to get it back?” I asked, feeling confused but also a little flattered by his confession.

“I’ll walk back into town later and get it,” he said.

Then looking at him, I said, “Where’s your crash helmet?”

“I’d look a bit stupid wearing a crash helmet on a push bike with a basket on the front,” he said, cheeks glowing brighter still.

“A basket?” I grinned.

“I need something to put the shopping in,” he said. “Besides, it’s not even my bike, it belongs to Mavis.”

“And you had the nerve to joke about my car?” I taunted. “At least my mode of transportation has an engine!”

“Okay, okay,” Nev sighed with a smile.

“So I take it I’ll be picking you up tomorrow night, unless you intend for me to sit in the basket,” I giggled.

He sat looking at me.

“What?” I asked, still trying to contain my laughter.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you laugh since I met you,” he said. “You should do it more often. You have a beautiful smile.”

“Thank you,” I said, now it was my turn for my cheeks to grow warm.

Without saying another word, Nev leant toward me, planting the gentlest of kisses on my cheek. He then climbed from the car. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow night.”

“Okay,” I said, starting the car again. “See you later, alligator.”

“In a while, crocodile,” he smiled, waving his hand.

For the second time that morning, I left Nev standing alone at the side of the road. But this time, I didn’t feel so bad.

Chapter Three

Pushing the door to the Crescent Moon Inn open, I stepped inside. It was quiet and the dining room was empty, with the last of the guests who had wanted breakfast now headed into the local countryside to enjoy the summer sun and the beautiful sights that the Ragged Cove had to offer. I still found it hard to reconcile how different the Ragged Cove was in this
where
and
when
. There was no rain, sleet, or snow. No howling wind buffeting at the eaves. The fire in the hearth lay dormant, black charcoal etched up the chimney. There were no garlic bulbs hanging above the bar, and no bottles of holy water or crucifixes for sale. Even the five-pointed star etched into the wall had gone.

“Hey, Kiera,” I heard someone say.

I looked up to see Phebe standing behind the bar. A leather-bound book, which I guessed was some kind of ledger, was open. Crossing the dining area, I made my way toward the bar where Phebe stood.

“I thought you might have come straight back from Bastille Hall once we had got rid of the Leshy,” Phebe said. She spoke freely as we were alone. “Where have you been?”

And although she smiled – Phebe and Uri always seemed to be smiling – I knew she asked the question out of more than just sheer politeness.

“Here and there,” I said, choosing how much I would tell her.

“Where about?” she probed, smiling again.

“Just in the town,” I said, matching her stare and wondering what I might see beyond her constant smile.

“Would you like me to rustle you up something to eat?” she said. “Uri’s in the kitchen. I know he would be more than happy to…”

“Thanks, but I’ve eaten,” I said.

“Really? Where?” she came back at me. Did I see her smile falter? I couldn’t be sure. Or was I just being paranoid? Perhaps she was just being friendly. After all, Phebe and Uri were nothing like Roland and his mother who had previously owned the Crescent Moon Inn. Perhaps it was the memory of them and what had happened here before that was my problem, and not Phebe and Uri. After all, they had been nothing but welcoming and helpful to me. And they were like me. They were monsters too. We had that in common at least. But as I stared at Phebe across the bar, I couldn’t help but feel that she knew more than she was letting on. More about what, I didn’t yet know, but I’d felt that feeling before. The night I had arrived at the Crescent Moon Inn, she acted as if she had in some way been expecting me. Uri said that my room had been booked in advance, that’s how they both knew my name. But it had been more than that. It was like they already knew who and
what
I really was.

“You knew I was like you,” I said.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Kiera,” Phebe said, combing a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Her smile held in place better than her hair.

“You didn’t seem too surprised in the woods last night when you saw my wings, fangs, and…”

“Most of the temps the agency sends are like us,” Phebe cut in. “Some don’t work out, but most do.”

“So how many Creeping Men are there exactly?” I asked. I’d tried to ask Uri such questions the night before, but had failed to get any real answers from him.

“I’m not sure I can answer that,” Phebe said, closing the leather-bound ledger and placing it back beneath the bar. She took two glass bottles of Coke down from the shelves behind her. She opened them, then passed one to me across the bar.

Picking up the bottle, I said, “Would Lois Li know the answer?”

“I don’t know,” Phebe said, tilting back her head and sipping from the Coke bottle.

“Lois Li runs the agency, right?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice even-tempered and friendly, like we were having nothing more than chit-chat, but I think we both knew it was more than that.

“Right,” Phebe said.

“Do you know how I can get in contact with her?” I asked.

“You have a number for her?”

“Yes, I’ve tried to call but I got no answer,” I explained.

“Perhaps you should try again,” Phebe smiled, before taking another swig of Coke. 

I stood and watched her as I drank from my own bottle. The liquid was black and sweet. “And what if I can’t get hold of this Lois Li?”

“Speak to Murphy,” Phebe said, nursing her bottle. “He deals with the newbies around here.”

“Have there been any other newbies recently?” I pushed as carefully as I could.

“They come and go all the time,” Phebe said. “I lose count.”

“But there only seems to be me working out of the office in town – me and Potter,” I said.

“Not everyone who arrives stays in the Ragged Cove,” Phebe said. “They get sent away.”

“Sent away where?” I asked, wondering if perhaps I was getting Phebe to open up a little.

“Jobs,” she said.

“Jobs?”

“Assignments. Investigations. Call them what you want, it’s all the same thing, really,” Phebe explained.

“And will I get sent away?” I asked.

“I think you’ve been partnered with Potter for now,” Phebe said. She glanced back at the kitchen door. I got the feeling that perhaps I’d misjudged her and she did want to tell me more, but was scared to do so. Scared of what I didn’t know. 

“So who am I replacing?” I asked her, stepping closer to the bar and lowering my voice just a little. “Who was Potter’s partner before me?”

Dropping the level of her voice to match mine, Phebe glanced back once more toward the kitchen door and then back at me. “He had two. They were a pair. Brother and sister.”

Kayla? Isidor? My heart started to race so fast, it felt as if it had shot up and become lodged in the back of my throat. “What were their names? What happened to them? Are they here in the Ragged Cove?”

My questions came out in double time, like a series of throaty rasps. I needed to know if my friends – the two people I loved like they were my own brother and sister – were here.  I would have given anything to see Isidor’s goofy smile and Kayla’s wild grin before she launched one of her ferocious attacks. What I would trade to hold them both close to me again.

“You better ask Murphy about them,” Phebe whispered. “I’ve said too much.”

“Please, Phebe,” I said.

Searching my eyes, Phebe said, “Why is it so important to know who Potter was partnered with before you?”

“I’d just like to know,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. But I couldn’t hide the sudden flush of excitement I felt at the thought that my friends might be close by.

“Like Phebe has already said, you’ll have to ask Murphy,” a voice said.

I looked up to see Uri standing in the now open kitchen doorway. He was wiping his hands with a cloth. Unlike Phebe, he wasn’t smiling.