A “New
Captain Scarlet” story for Halloween
BY CAT2
“The Headless Woman,”
Mario read, as the building whizzed past them. “Wonder why anyone would choose
such a gruesome name?”
“Local legend,” Paul
Metcalfe, Captain Scarlet, replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “The story
goes that a witch was beheaded at the cross roads, and now walks there, swearing
revenge on the town.”
“That’s right; you’re
from round here originally,” Adam muttered, consulting the directions again.
“Turn right here.”
“You alright Adam?”
Serena Lewis leant forward; gently resting her hand on Captain Blue’s shoulders. “You seem a little
stressed.”
Adam sighed, annoyed
that his concerns were so visible. “It’s just...I called Julia 6 weeks ago,
when we first got the leave to see if she had anywhere we could stay. She said
she was booked up until Easter. Then last week she calls me and says she has
somewhere big enough for all of us.”
“Maybe she felt guilty
about bailing out on a friend,” Destiny Angel, Simone Giraudoux, suggested, from the back seat where she and two of the
other Angels were sitting with Serena and Mario.
Adam snorted. “Julia is
literally the lady of the manor. She runs her family’s estate, plus the boarding
business, plus is a chemist over at Adlerson.”
“The World Weapons
Development agency?” Scarlet asked, raising an eyebrow. If Julia was working
there, then she had to be good.
Adam nodded. “Trust me;
she’s no reason to be sentimental.”
Especially not about me, he thought.
“Who cares?” Mario
demanded, waving his hand at the countryside speeding past their window. “Two
weeks’ leave. No Mysterons, the heart of the English Countryside, what could be
better?”
“If the weather breaks
anything.” Adam glanced around. “This place looks pretty enough, and there’s
loads to do when it’s fine, but once it starts to rain...” He trailed off.
“So you know this area?”
You could hear the eagerness in Serena’s voice, at discovering more of Adam’s
past.
Adam sighed. “I was
stationed at Adlerson for a year.” He glanced down at the directions in his lap.
“This is the turning.”
The house loomed over
the high green hedges of the lane, glowing in the sunlight. Its red brick work,
interspaced with huge black beams, sat smugly under a grey slate roof.
“It’s beautiful,” Serena
gasped. Yoko apparently agreed, leaning forward to get a
better look. Adam was grateful, as it meant his face couldn’t be seen.
Scarlet carefully pulled
the car to a halt, as a man stepped out of the thatched porch to meet them. He
had black hair, and blue eyes that sparkled as they spotted Adam.
“Adam Svenson. Good to
see you.” He was American, but his accent had been softened and manipulated so
that it sounded like a strange cross between English and American.
“Don.” Adam forced
himself to smile, shaking the other man’s hand. “Looks like Security agrees with
you.”
The other man grinned,
his eyes sparkling. “And looks like Spectrum agrees with you.” He glanced
around, spotting Scarlet standing nearby looking amused by the exchange. “Paul
Metcalfe? You probably don’t
remember me, but we have met.”
“Commander Don
Sinclair.” He hadn’t actually remembered the man until Adam had said his name.
Then it all came flooding back. “How are you?”
“Fine thanks, though
it’s just Don Sinclair, these days.” At Adam’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged.
“Love makes a man do strange things, Captain”
“So where is your wife?” Adam asked, keeping
his tone light. He wanted to have a talk with Julia about her recommending this
house of all houses.
“At work. She’s furious
that she couldn’t be here to greet you, but,” He shrugged. “Duty calls. So what
do you think of the old place?” his question was directed at Yoko, Simone,
Serena and Mario, who had climbed out of the car, and were staring up at the
house.
“It’s huge.” Mario’s
voice had a hint of awe, backed up by Yoko’s “And so beautiful. I thought we’d
be in a tiny cottage that flooded when it rained or something.”
“Well, we do have a
couple of those, and I know the owners would be happy to swap with you if you
want to.” He could feel Adam’s eyes drilling into him, as he sighed. “Alright,
maybe not happy.”
He paused. “Look, I’ll
be honest with you. Jules and I kind of need you to stay here as a favour to
us.”
“Why?” Simone asked,
confused. “A beautiful house like this, in the middle of the countryside, I’d
have thought you’d have had no problems letting it.”
“Normally no.” Don
sighed, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, a gesture Adam remembered
being linked to extreme nerves. “It’s just...” He sighed. “Look, the house has a
reputation locally of being haunted. The last tenants claimed they saw
something, and they’re threatening to go to the media with it. So Julia reckon
that if we offered it to you guys, and were able to show that some Spectrum
agents had spent a couple of weeks there and seen nothing...”
He trailed off.
“Why are you so keen to
get rid of the rumours of a ghost anyway?” Mario asked, as Don reached down,
grabbing the bags. “Would have thought a ghost would be great for business.”
Don paused, looking at
the other man.
“This isn’t an ordinary
ghost.”
“There are three rooms
on this floor,” Don said, leading them up a massive oak staircase “And two
smaller rooms in the attic.”
“Smaller than this won’t
be hard,” Mario observed. “It’s huge.”
Don shrugged. “Big
families in those days. Plus most of the time the rooms aren’t used as bedrooms.
They act as gyms, offices, so on. Julia and I converted them back into bedrooms
when Adam confirmed you were staying.”
Mario wasn’t listening
though, he was moving around the room, examining the panels that lined the wall.
“Is this where the ghost
appears?” he asked, apparently oblivious to Adam’s angry glare. Don paused,
rubbing the back of his head again.
“Not exactly.” He
sighed, moving over to the window. “Look, Julia already told me to invite you
guys for dinner tonight, up at the manor. Professor Almond’ll
be there. He’ll give you the history of the house.”
“The manor.” Simone
moved over to begin digging through her bags. “Guess we’d best change then.”
“You’d never guess from
the outside that this house is less than two hundred years old.” Professor
Almond was holding court, stroking his beard and looking around the house like a
cat that’d got the cream. “Built in 1853, on the site of a much smaller Saxon
Manor house, known locally as Werburg’s Rest.”
“So the family hasn’t
actually been here that long?” Scarlet asked, attempting to be polite. Professor
Almond raised an eyebrow.
“Most assuredly not. The
family has been around in one form or another since at least the 12th
Century. In fact, if you have time, there is an excellent memorial in the church
to Peter Defy, who died on crusade.”
“So why did they have
this house built?”
Julia Sinclair Defy
bustled over, trying to pretend she hadn’t been listening. Her hair was dark and
cut short, and her fingers were covered in stains and scars. In spite of that,
she gave a sense of confidence and determination that he was used to associating
with Lieutenant Green.
“The Rectory, while a
beautiful and historic building, wasn’t very fashionable. The family had come
into money and was mixing with those who had more. They built the new house to
show their wealth and status to the surrounding countryside, rather than relying
on the old house, which was on land granted to them by Henry VIII after the
dissolution of the monasteries.”
“Why not just modernise
it?”
Julia smiled, dryly.
“Our ancestors were not sentimental. Indeed, given the time we were just lucky
that the building was not demolished. Instead it was given to the church as the
rectory.”
“Not that any of the
ministers remained there long,” Professor Almond observed.
“Because of the ghost?”
Mario interjected eagerly. Julia sighed.
“No, because the house
was ancient, and uncomfortable,” she began, sighing as she realised that
everyone was staring at the pair of them. “Look, can the ghost stories wait
until after dinner? Mrs Macgry is about to dish up,
and I don’t want to be the one to explain to mother why dinner gets cold.”
“The story goes,” Julia
said, as they gathered by the drawing room fire. The room was huge, lined with
oak panels and full of knickknacks and squashy arm chairs. Julia sat on the red
divan, with Don next to her. She pulled her jumper around her a bit more
securely. “That during the Civil War the house was occupied by an ancestor of
mine called John Defy. The family
were Catholics, recusants, but in spite of that John’s best friend was Paul St.
John, a Protestant. The St. Johns were in parliament, so they were rich, but
they lacked the pedigree of the Defys. The boys were
apparently inseparable, and vowed to let nothing come between them. And it
probably wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for a woman.” She got to her feet and
walked over to a curtained alcove.
“Jeanne D’Or.” A woman
with pale blonde hair hung in ringlets around her face stared out at them. She
was dressed in blue silk, and looked seductively out at the world. “Bet the
chroniclers of the time had a ball with that.”
Professor Almond took up
the story. “Arrived in England in 1640, to a country that was hostile to her and
all her countrymen. There were fears of Papist plots, and a lot of anger against
the king of the period, Charles I.” He smiled.
“Legend has it, that
while she was engaged to John Defy, even at that point there was evidence of an
attraction to his best friend, Paul.” He sighed. “In 1641, as part of
concessionary methods to parliament, aimed at securing funding for the king,
John Defy, along with others was exiled under sentence of death. He fled to
France.” He paused, chewing at his lip. “It’s unclear why John did not take his
new bride with him into exile, but he didn’t, unwisely.”
“I
kinda
feel sorry for her,” Don observed, lounging and looking at the picture. “She was
trapped in a strange country that was hostile to her and her culture; she was
newly married, but had no way of telling whether she was a bride or a widow.” He
shrugged, turning back to look at his wife. “I know it would be hard for her.
Remember, when you and I first met,” He reached out, gently
stroking her finger. “Only proof I had that you were still alive would be a
field postcard every six months. It was…” He shook his head. “Hell.” He glanced
around the room. “I’m not saying I agree with what she did, or is alleged to
have done, but…I don’t think it was as black and white as people claim.”
“Possibly not,”
Professor Almond agreed, “Certainly, there is no doubt that she was extremely
isolated. The only person she knew in the area was Paul St. John. He used to
ride over to the house.” The professor shook his head. “You can probably guess
how that ended.”
“In exile in France,
rumours reached John of his wife’s behaviour.
Or maybe he just decided it was too dangerous to leave her in England any
more.” Julia shivered, though she stayed silent. “The King had just been
executed, and England declared a commonwealth. Most Royalist supporters were
fleeing.” He shrugged. “Either way, he returned to England secretly in 1649,
eventually reaching The Rectory in April of that year.” He swallowed. “The story goes that he
rode all night, though a vicious thunderstorm, arriving in the house, soaked to
the skin.”
“He came in the house by
the old night stairs down, and walked up the stairs, his boots clumping on the
steps. He opened the door to the main bedroom and…” The Professor smiled around
the room. “Well the records claim they were in flagrante delicto, so I’ll let you guys
figure the rest out. John was enraged. He drew his sword and killed the pair of
them. He was tried and executed for the crime less than three weeks later.” He
sat back, taking a sip of his drink.
“Reliable sources tell
us this much,” Julia said, drawing the curtain over the portrait of Jeanne. “But
it’s only a few years later, not long after the restoration of the monarchy that
rumours began to circulate that the house was haunted. It varies and ranges
though the centuries, but the facts remain the same. A report of strange sounds
from the house and someone creeping around the house.”
“You said it wasn’t an
ordinary ghost. Sounds fairly straightforward to me,” Scarlet observed.
Julia shook her head.
“No. Most ghosts have a set…pattern for want of a better term. Ours doesn’t.”
She moved around the room “Some people have reported strange noises; some just
get a sense of being watched. Some have seen an actual replay of the events,
some have seen a man looking through the window, and it’s unpredictable.” She
sighed. “And that’s what makes our ghost so dangerous. A headless woman
wandering the crossroads wringing her hands, a black dog whose appearance spells
death, the churchyard watched over by the last person to be buried in it,
they’re all common, all safe ghosts. Our one is…unpredictable. Some people, some
psychics have claimed that we’re lying, that
there’s nothing there.”
“But you don’t believe
that.”
Julia sighed. “I’ve
spent nights in the house before now,” she said, softly. “And I’ve always felt
something, someone watching me.”
“I saw something,” Don
volunteered. “Once. A long time ago.”
Silence reigned for a
few seconds. “If you guys want to change your accommodation, Don and I
completely understand and we’ll try and help you,” Julia said, with a glance at
her husband, “But it is really a nice house, and there’s nowhere else big enough
to hold you all together, and…” She trailed off.
“You’re kidding right?”
Mario’s eyes were shining. “A genuine ghost. I’m not going anywhere!”
He glanced around.
Everyone else seemed less certain of the situation, but slowly they added their
voices to give consent. Julia smiled.
“Well, if you guys are
interested in ghosts, Professor Almond does a ghost tour around the village for
Halloween, which is always highly praised. I know it’s the wrong season, but
perhaps he would consider…?”
With what in other
circumstances would have been a laughable example of Feudal spirit, the
professor agreed that he would be more than happy to, and the talk turned to
other matters.
The horse’s flanks glisten beneath him, even as the rain soaks him to the skin.
The moon barely pieces the clouds, and while he would have once sworn he knew
these roads as well as he knew his own name, now the trees that line them become witches’ figures, which rip and tear at
his coat.
He wishes he had a guide, wishes he had accepted Old John’s offer to ride with
him, but the man is risking enough as it is.
If the bastard Cromwell’s soldiers find him…
Peering through the darkness, he could just make out the track, running off the
main road.
Carefully, he edged the reluctant beast towards it, staring as he did so at the
tree.
He resisted the desire to scream, as he realised that the tree was staring back
at him.
“Morning Paul,” Mario
said, sitting at the huge oak table in the kitchen, buttering toast. “Sleep
well?”
“Fine.” Paul grunted. He
had actually slept the whole night through, but his dreams had woken him in the
pale dawn light, sweating, panting and feeling like he’d been awake the whole
night. A quick glance in the mirror that morning had confirmed it, and he
expected Adam to call him on it. But the other man didn’t, just drinking his
coffee at the table.
“What’s for breakfast?”
“Toast.” Simone smiled
at him from the end of the table. “Mainly because Mario is in charge of
breakfast and activities today.”
“Prof Almond called
early this morning and said if we wanted to, he was free to do the ghost tour
today!” Mario said, his eyes shining. “Said he’d pick us up in an hour.” He
caught the glare Serena and Simone were throwing him and back pedalled. “But if
you don’t want to go, it’s no big deal. Yoko’s already said she’s not going to,
and Adam’s catching up with Julia and Don this morning. Said he might meet us in
the afternoon.”
“It’s O.K. Mario.” He
sighed. Normally traipsing around a village on a ghost tour would have been his
idea of hell, with the darkness and the cold and the guy deliberately trying to
scare everyone. But the sun was shining through the windows and last night’s
dreams felt like a mile away. “Should be fun.” Mario grinned like a mad man.
“Most of the work these
days is still for the military, though the focus has changed slightly,” Don
said, leading the way along the silver corridors of the Adlerson World Weapons
Research facility. He stopped by a window and tapped lightly on the glass,
waving as yellow hooded figures looked up. One of them held up a gloved hand in
thumbs up. Don nodded, and continued. “These days, it’s more about counteracting
the effects of the weapons, or the traces left by them.”
“Hence Julia’s role.”
Don shrugged. “You know
she was never that keen on chemical warfare.” They had reached the end of the
corridor. Don reached out, and placed his thumb on the small panel beside it.
A scarlet light ran up
and down the panel, before a light on the left beeped green.
“You guys still relying
on thumb prints for identification?” Blue said, trying to keep the unease out of
his voice.
Don snorted, pointing to
the panel next to the light. “DNA. Same as on Skybase. Don’t worry; we’re safe
from Martians here.”
“Martians?”
Don frowned. “Don’t lie
to me, Adam. I’m in charge of Security here. I get briefings from Spectrum every
week, which occasionally I actually read.” The sarcasm in his voice was audible.
“Plus since that bio weapons stint everyone’s been updating security.” He
stepped into the office, a desk piled high with books and papers and a monitor
and three sleek chairs the only modern furniture in the room. The white walls
were lined with small fume cupboards. Old oak cupboards containing ancient
looking books and conical flasks, sat next to silver cabinets with their fancy
tubes. A periodic table hung on the one bare wall, with an old fashioned hat
stand beneath it.
It was, Adam thought,
glancing around, very Julia and hadn’t changed all that much since the last time
he was in here.
Don he realised was
still talking. “Most of the precautions were already in place here. One
advantage of having been so close to the front line here with the bloody IRA.
Plus these things aren’t just useful to terrorists. There are a lot of drug
lords out there, who’d love to get their hands on half of what we ship.” He
shrugged. “Feels like half my life is spent checking facts and figures.”
He shook his head.
“She’s worried about you,” he said, softly. “Julia, I mean. Even if the Rectory
hadn’t come up empty, she’d have...”
He stopped short as his
wife entered, a white lab coat thrown over her ordinary clothes. “Adam. It’s
good to see you.”
In spite of Paul’s
earlier unease, the trip proved to be a good day.
Professor Almond, well
used to the vague and waning interest of students in a lecture hall, was an
excellent tour guide. He knew exactly how to make even a boring story of the
foundation of the church sound interesting, and his ghost stories were
spectacular, without being frightening, even in the sunshine.
They saw the churchyard,
guarded over by the spirit of Henry Noble, the last body buried in it. They
walked down Godman’s Lane, where Old Grim, the devil’s
supposed dog galloped to claim souls for hell.
They stopped for a drink
at the Headless Woman, where
Professor waxed lyrical about not just Matildia
Millar, who was beheaded in 1645, swearing revenge on the town, but on the whole history of English witchcraft,
going right back to the twelfth century.
They debated endlessly,
but ended up stopping for lunch beneath Tatiana’s Bow, just on the outskirts of
the village.
“Since prehistoric times
at least, this area has been associated with the fairies, though, of course the
title of Tatiana’s Bow,” Almond winced. “Is Victorian. There is no written
record of what the locals called the place before that.”
“What are these?” Simone
asked, reaching up into the branches, where small painted wooden objects hung.
“The eye of Horus.”
Almond smiled, indulgently. “Or at least an English equivalent. They’re hung
here every year at Midsummer, to
discourage evil spirits. Can give you quite a fright on a dark night if
you’re not expecting them.”
Scarlet walked away from
the group, barely listening to Almond’s lecture. The whole place was giving him
a creepy sense of déjà vu. He tripped, almost falling to his knees.
“You will
hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish
of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily
cantering through
The misty
solitudes,
As though
they perfectly knew
The old lost
road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods,” Almond
quoted, suddenly appearing beside him. “There used to be a track there, leading
up to the old Rectory, but it was planted over years ago, not long after the
first vicar arrived with his family. Had a bad reputation locally which is
strange as the tree is supposed to bring good fortune, especially to lovers.”
“Really?” Simone asked,
sliding her hand into Paul’s. Almond nodded.
“Indeed. It is said that
if you stand underneath it on Midsummer’s night, with your sweetheart, then you
will be with them forever and a day.” He fumbled in his pockets, like an old
pipe smoker. “Certainly seems to have worked for our lovely lady and her beau,
even though she was engaged to someone else at the time.”
“Who?” Green asked,
wandering over. She had been distracted all morning, hardly seeming to hear what
the professor was saying, so it was a bit of a surprise for her to be asking
that.
“Some chap in the US
army, can’t remember his name.” Suddenly Almond hit his knee. “Adam something,
that was it. I remember a joke being made at the time that her mother had really
wanted to call her Eve.”
He didn’t seem to notice
the sick look on Green’s face.
“Why did the road have a
bad reputation?” Mario asked. The Professor looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps we
should be moving on, a storm is forecast for later.”
“It’s connected with the
ghost of the Rectory isn’t it?” Simone asked, possibly to draw attention away
from Serena.
Almond dropped his eyes.
“They say it’s the road that John Defy
rode up. A lot of the villages reported seeing a horseman galloping down
it, especially after dark.”
He did stop to wonder to
himself why two of his party now looked like they wanted to throw up.
“It’s actually
fascinating,” Julia said, replacing the bottle on her desk. “Chemically, it’s
virtually identical to the Berklin gas, you remember
the stuff they used during the War?”
He did remember.
Remembered the almost unnoticeable burning as the stuff slid into your lungs,
remembered the visions of horrors it would create, some based on real memories,
some stuff of nightmares. Remembered the trembling and the pain that assaulted
its victims once the stuff was in their system, remembered the claustrophobic
feel of the gas masks they were issued to counteract it. Don remembered too,
heck he and Adam had served together a couple of times. So did Julia. She’d
actually designed the masks that had saved many lives.
She shook her head.
“From a weapons point of view, this gas, Vulcan gas we’re calling it, for want
of a better name, is a better bet than the Berklin
gas. Its effects are initially less noticeable, but ultimately more effective,
it disperses rapidly with oxygen, which reduces the risk to your own troops.
Also less need for the gas masks.” She shrugged. “the similarities to Berklin also help explain the immunity demonstrated.”
At Adam’s raised
eyebrow, she shrugged. “Like Don, I get the reports and like Don, I occasionally
read them”
“Nah, but how do you
mean about exposure having an effect on immunity? All of us were exposed, it was kinda impossible not be.”
The Berklins, a
group of Russian Separatists who were fighting for the freedom of their
homeland, had developed the gas initially as an attack method against the
Destnicks. Thrown in to the enclosed tank, the effect rendered the
capable vehicles virtually inoperable, until a filtration system was developed.
Unfortunately, by that point the Berklins’
chemists had not only refined their
formula, but had sold it on or joined forces (no one was entirely sure which)
with other groups, including the IRA, Al- Qaeda, and Chinese Liberation army.
The gas had quickly became everyone’s weapon of choice, and avoiding exposure as
Blue had already observed being borderline impossible.
Julia nodded in
agreement. “But you were all exposed to different forms. You and Captain Ochre,
if her service record is correct, served mainly in the Middle East and Asia, so
you were exposed to Berklin mainly in its gas form.
Captain Scarlet’s records indicate service mainly in Europe, specifically
Russia.” She paused. “You remember the mysterious sickness that struck forces on
the Russian Front in 2066?”
“Yeah,” Adam said,
casting his mind back to the rumours flying around the troops of an infection
sickening the men who had served in Russia. They suffered from shakes that they
couldn’t control and sickness and vomiting. Some reportedly at least, went mad,
attacking things only they could see and hear. “Thought to be some sort of virus
in the water.”
“Turned out it was
actually Berklin gas. This OH group.” She tapped it on
the monitor on her desk. “reacts with the water, forming a soluble, acidic
salt.” She shrugged. “The gas was
released, it reacted with the snow and contaminated the drinking water.” She
sighed. “ As a result, guys with service on the Russian front tend to have been
exposed to more of the gas, as they took it in through their water, through
their skin, through everything really,” She
continued. “High exposure, if they survived it, seems to give some
immunity to the gas. But it is worth noting that cases of psychosis are nearly
doubled in the case of Russian front, as the stuff can leave residue in their
system. The Vulcan gas sample you guys brought back, might be useful in helping
us find a cure, if the military don’t decide it’s more use as weapon.” There was
a bitter note in her voice.
Adam paused. “The guys
on Mars thought the mine was haunted,” he said, slowly. “Do you think, that
there’s any chance that...?”
Julia shook her head.
“Once we’d figured out how this stuff worked, how it affected the brain, I went
down to the Rectory and took samples. Samples of the soil, of the wood, of the
air, heck even left culture plates there for a couple of days, in case the gas
came from some bacteria in the soil. All results were negative.” She glanced at
her screen. “This stuff is definitely not responsible for what happened.”
The three of them fell
silent remembering past events. Suddenly, a beep interrupted everyone’s
thoughts. Don glanced down, swore and left, muttering his apologies.
“He works hard,” Adam
muttered, more for something to say than anything else.
Julia nodded. “Too hard,
sometimes,” she muttered, before turning to face Adam. “Adam, look, I never had
the opportunity to thank you. I know you could have made life difficult for Don,
after...what happened, but you didn’t, you were a real gentleman, so thank you.”
Adam shrugged, his eyes
roaming the room, before settling on the fume cupboard. “So what are you guys
actually doing currently?”
Julia rolled her eyes at
the obvious subject change and started discussing the work on the newer gas
masks for miners.
“Did you enjoy yourself
with your friends?” Serena’s voice was as near to a sneer as you could get
without actually doing so. The jealousy she was feeling towards Julia Defy
surprised even her. Adam shrugged.
“Yeah, Julia’s working
on the gas Gold found in the Vulcan mine. Interesting to see the stuff when it’s
not trying to kill you.” His joke fell flat. “How about you guys?”
Like a child oblivious
to the tension in the room, Mario began babbling about the ghost tour, giving
Adam condensed versions of all the stories Almond had told them.
“He was good,” Scarlet
agreed, glancing at his friend across the drawing room, where they had all
gathered. Outside the rain poured down, turning the sky black, but inside the
lights gave the room a rosy glow. “You should have come Adam.”
Adam shook his head.
“Thanks but I’ve heard them before.”
“How, Almond said he
only moved to the area a couple of years ago?”
Adam shrugged. “He and a
couple of his students were still running tours when I was stationed here, every
Halloween. Plus, my old man knew Julia’s old man. Think I spent about a dozen
summers here as a kid.”
“Really?” Serena hissed.
“You didn’t mention that!”
Adam finally seemed to
pick up on the tension in the room. “I told you Julia was an old friend.
Honestly, Serena what’s got in to you?”
A bang of thunder echoed
overhead. The light flickered, and died, plunging the room into darkness.
“What the...?”
“Easy.” A sound in the
darkness told Scarlet that Adam had got to his feet. “The wiring in this place
was done in the 2000s, when there’s a storm occasionally it gets knocked out.” A
bump and a muffled curse told him that Adam had attempted to move and knocked
into something, which sounded like a chair.
“Anyone got a
flashlight?”
Paul had. He turned it
on, the pale light spilling around the room, worsening the eerie feel of the
room if anything.
“The fuse box is under
the stairs,” Adam said, rubbing his leg where he’d bumped it on a small coffee
table.
“Course, could be the
power lines have come down in the storm,” Mario observed. Adam shrugged. “Possibly, but unlikely.
Come on, it’s this way.”
Paul turned the torch,
focusing on the women to check they were o.k. before he began to follow Adam.
The hall was in
darkness, worse than the drawing room as there were no windows there. Paul’s
torch moved over tables, hat stands and chairs, before resting on a door. Adam
pulled it open and began fiddling in the closet. Paul held the torch steady,
trying to shake the feeling of being watched. He was a Spectrum agent dammit, not a
kid to be scared by ghost stories.
“Storm must be bad,”
Adam muttered, withdrawing himself from the cupboard for a second. “Taken out
three fuses. Bring the torch around
will you?”
Scarlet grunted, moving
the light.
The lightning flashed
outside the room, making Adam swear even louder, as another two fuses fell
victim.
As the flash and the
sparks faded, a scream rang out across the house.
Adam jumped. “What
the...?”
“It came from back
there,” Paul said, spinning around with his torch. “Destiny!”
“I saw him.” Destiny all
but fell into Scarlet’s arms as he ran back into the drawing room. “Outside, in
the window, I saw him.”
“Who?”
Destiny’s eyes were
wide.
“Conrad.”
“Hate being the one to
ask, but what would Black be doing here?” Mario asked, moving alongside Scarlet,
as they walked though the soaking gardens.
“Adlerson is only a few
hundred metres away,” Paul pointed out, squinting into the darkness. The wind
and lashing rain was making it impossible to see more than few feet in front of
him. Adam had stayed indoors to try and get power back in the house, and to
alert Adlerson, while
Serena, Simone and Yoko tried to locate some candles.
“Maybe the Mysterons are
planning an attack.”
“Then what’s he’s doing
here, rather than up the road?”
Scarlet shrugged.
“Access codes?”
He paused, frowning as
the light from the torch fell on some steps, half hidden against the house. Ivy
covered, and soaked, they didn’t look like they’d been used for centuries,
glancing up in the darkness, he was able to make out the faintest outline of a
light above them.
“What are these?” He
asked.
“The night stairs,”
Mario said, coming up beside him. “You remember? Adam’s friends mentioned it.”
Adam cursed as the fuse
slipped out of his hand again, falling beyond the small circle provided by the
candle light.
“What?”
“Adam?” Don’s voice came over the comm., sounding concerned. “Quick question,
the Mysterons’ agents don’t have the ability to be in two places at once, do
they?”
“Not as far as we know,”
Adam said, leaning down and moving the candle forward, still searching for the
fuse. “Why?”
Don sounded more
agitated. “Because I just contacted your Colonel White to see if he could send
us some back up, I mean my guys are good, but we’d be out of our class, you
know?”
“Sinclair!”
Don sighed. “He was very
surprised to hear my report, as he’d just got a report of Black breaking into
the Chechnya Nuclear facility.”
There was a pause,
before Don continued. “Look, sorry to ask you this Adam, but was Serena involved
with anyone else when you met her?”
“No,” Adam said, the
horror of the situation dawning on him. “But Destiny was!”
“You have to get them
out of there.” Don’s voice was firm. “I’m sending a couple of my guys to help
you, but with the storm...”
“I’ll stop them,” Adam
promised, softly. “I’ll stop him.”
The stairs are slippery in the rain, but the stone gives no sound.
It is easy to persuade this one’s companion to wait at the bottom of the stairs,
so overcome by fear is he in this abysmal weather.
12 steps up. Once they would have been for the 12 apostles, guiding the monks
who slept above their eating hall downwards for prayers at midnight in the
church. Now they guide me and thee up to face the faithless creature in the room
above. Her outline is quite clear against the window curtains.
His hand grips at the ancient iron knocker, shaped like a cock, the bird’s beak
clasped around the knocker. The old oak moves as silently as it did that night,
in spite of the years that have passed.
It was lucky that Yoko
remembered seeing that candle box in her room, Simone thought, as she lit
another placing it on the table in Paul’s room, as though that simple action
could banish her fears, could keep Black at bay.
Not that the candle
seemed to be helping much here. In every other room they’d put a candle,
including the landing and the hall, it had helped, seeming to force the shadows
out of it. Here, it seemed to be lengthening and twisting the shadows into
horrible witches’ faces and monsters.
She shivered slightly,
moving towards the door, almost running headlong into a mountain of solid
muscle.
“Paul,” she said,
stepping back and catching sight of the mountain’s face “Thank God, I
thought...”
She froze, looking up
into the man’s eyes. They were dark and unfocused, like when he had been under
the control of the Mysteron Virus, except then the anger and the pain had been
directed inwards. Now it was focused on her.
She could only stare in
horror as he raised his weapon, pointing directly at her.
“Paul.” She could hear
Adam’s voice from the corridor as she backed further into the room, like a
cornered animal.
“She’s a Mysteron
Replicant Adam.” Paul’s voice was chillingly calm. “The Mysterons have killed
the real Simone. I saw her up here, with Black.”
“Paul. No.”
Then there was the soft
pop of the gun, and Paul staggered forward, as Adam burst into the room, his gun
still raised.
Paul blinked, his eyes
focusing back on his friend, confused and slightly scared. “Adam, what the..?”
Adam didn’t give him an
opportunity to respond, reaching down to grab the other man, heaving him bodily
to his feet.
“Come on. Let’s get the
hell out of here.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Julia
said handing out blankets. Sitting on sofas, on chairs and on the floor, all
soaked to the skin from the rain, wrapped in a variety of coats and blankets,
Adam was fairly certain that they looked less like Spectrum Captains and more
like refugees he remembered seeing in the Terrorism war. “But I was sure, if
there was any reason, that Adam would have mentioned it.”
She glanced, half nervously, half accusingly at him. “Especially after what
happened.”
“What did happen?” Paul
asked. He was lying half propped up on the
divan that Julia had been sitting on when they first heard the ghost
story, with Simone sitting on the chair opposite, her eyes still wide with fear.
Julia sighed. “It’s
complicated.” She sighed, moving over to stand beside her husband who stood,
leaning against the mantelpiece. “I’d heard the stories since I was a child, but
I never truly believed them until...” She paused, glancing first at Adam and
then at Serena. Don reached out gripping her shoulder.
“Until Adam and Julia
got engaged.”
“I will say,” Julia
said, glaring at her husband and glancing nervously at Serena, who was shaking
slightly, though not from cold. “That the event was more to do with our parents
than us.” She shrugged. “Adam’s parents thought being engaged would help his
career, and mine...” She shrugged again. “I never knew to be honest. I suspect
they thought he’d be a good catch.” She sighed. “It didn’t make a lot of
difference at first, we got “engaged” just as I turned 21, which was the year I
started at Adlerson, and the Terrorism war started, so dating
was fairly low on everyone’s priority list.” She paused. “Then Don came.”
“For the record,” Don
said, “I didn’t know she was engaged.”
“I know,” Julia said,
gently.” And Adam does too.” She continued: “Nothing happened. I mean there was
chemistry, but that was it. Until...” She shook her head. “Until things got
hairy. I worked on the gas masks, because I was in the group who detected the
fault.”
“The one that...?”
“The one that was reckon
to be “not significantly significant,”” Julia confirmed, bitterly. “Even though
it cost nearly a million men their lives.”
“They realised their
mistake,” Mario offered.
“Only after the deaths,”
Julia snapped. She shook her head. “I just...I wanted some comfort. Everyone,
scientists, security, was stationed at the Rectory. I went here when we heard
what they were saying about the fault we’d found, that they weren’t going to
withdraw the masks, I...I wasn’t taking it well.”
“I’d call attempting to
destroy your quarters a bit less than well,” Don observed, but there was no
malice in his voice and he pulled his wife close and kissed her hair. “I’d been
injured and along with a lot of my unit including Adam who was my CO,” he winced
slightly, “was stationed as security for Adlerson. I just came in, grabbed at
her, trying to calm her down. And...Adam came in.”
Scarlet risked a glance
at Blue who’d been unusually silent throughout the proceedings.
“What happened?” he
asked, his eyes fixed on the other man.
“Don let go of me,
babbling that this wasn’t what it looked like and...” She paused. “There was a
mirror on the wall opposite. An old Victorian thing with lilies carved into the
frame. We looked over, and we saw, we all saw...” She swallowed. “We saw the
scene, but it had all changed. Don and I...we were lying on the floor, beaten to
death. And Adam was standing over us,
covered in blood.”
“Hallucination,” Mario
suggested. Julia shrugged.
“I might have believed
that, if I hadn’t...” She shook her head. “There’s been no less than 10 murders
in that house since 1645. All the same thing, the eternal triangle.” She paused.
“I have a friend who works out probabilities for us. He’s a dick, but he did
tell me that’s statistically significant.”
“So what happened?”
Simone asked. “To Paul, to the others.”
“I don’t know,” Julia
admitted, sinking down into the arm chair. “I’ve got a theory, but it’s nothing
more.”
“Which is?”
“That when the elements,
for want of a better word, are present, then a reaction will occur. The closer
you are to the correct elements then the stronger the reaction.”
“So what?” Mario asked.
“You’re saying that Paul was possessed or something?”
“Or something,” Julia
replied. “I’m a scientist, so I define my terms. I’ve heard Almond refer to it
as past shadow, as though the events, the emotions involved in them, were so
powerful they had to play out again and again. I’m not sure, I...” She shook her
head. “I did some research after what happened and found an account of basically
what happened tonight. A monk climbed the stairs and killed one of his brethren,
claiming to have seen him conspiring with the devil.” She shrugged. “Maybe the
house is cursed by his actions for that scenario to be played out until the end
of time, maybe the brother really was conspiring with the devil and summoned
something up, I don’t know. I just know that house is a crucible for things like
that. For guilt, anger, jealousy to overflow. I know
I can’t prove it, but...” She turned to look at Scarlet. “You said that you
remembered climbing up the night stairs and going through the door at the top of
them.” At his nod, she asked. “Can you describe the door?”
Scarlet closed his eyes
for a moment. “A big oak one that made no noise as it opened. It had a weird
doorknocker, I remember that.”
“Something like this?”
Julia had got to her feet and moved over to the cabinet beneath Jeanne D’Or’s painting. She withdrew a door knocker, rusted with
age, but still identifiable as a bird.
“How did you...?”
Julia ran her fingers
though her hair. “This was dug up, nearly two years ago, in the grounds of the
Rectory, by Professor Almond and his students. If you’d looked at the door to
the night stairs, you’d have noticed it’s a modern white door that opens
outwards. Has to for fire regulations.” She shook her head. “This has been lost,
according to those who know about such things since at least the 1800s, and it’s
being here in the cabinet the whole time.” She paused. “There’s no way you could
have used it.”
“I’m sorry you don’t
want to finish your leave here,” Julia said, calmly, the next morning as they
finished loading bags into the car.
“Do you blame us?”
Julia shook her head.
“No. Not at all.” She sighed, and walked over to where Serena was heading out,
her own suitcase swung over one shoulder. Julia deliberately bumped into her and
clutched at the bag. “Listen to me,” she said, dropping her voice. “There is a
final part to the story I didn’t say last night, because it is no one’s business
but yours.” She swallowed. “Don still doesn’t know why what we saw in the mirror
that night didn’t come to pass, he thinks it’s down to noble sprit in Adam, but
I don’t.”
“Go on.” Serena’s eyes
had narrowed.
Julia glanced around,
making sure the others were out of earshot. “I caught Adam’s eyes for a second,
before we saw what was going on in the mirror. I know what I saw there, the
second he saw me with Don. Relief.” She let it sink in. “Because he wanted to
end the engagement, and now he could without being the bad guy. He’d met someone
else.” She paused, letting it sink in. “Adam had been to London that day,
meeting with Sir Charles Grey.”
With a shock, Serena
realised that she remembered that day as well. An American Captain had been in
Sir Charles’s office, giving evidence about the security measures taken to
protect Adlerson from attack. She’d been reprimanded
by Sir Charles, the only time in her entire career, as her notes of the meeting
had been so poor. The man had asked her if she knew anywhere good to eat at
lunch time and had invited her to join him. The captain’s name had been Adam
Svenson.
Julia watched this play
over Serena’s face.
“Adam has never thought
of me as anything other than a friend,” she said, softly. “He loves you. Just
has no idea how to show it.” Her eyes searched Serena’s face, like a child
looking for reassurance. “You do know that, right?”
Serena Lewis nodded,
looking towards the car where Don and Adam were finishing off securing the
luggage. “Yes. I do.”
Author’s notes:
My Thanks, as
always to Chris and Hazel who put up with my appalling spelling and grammar year
after year. The poem Almond quotes is “The way though the woods” by Rudyard
Kipling. I don’t own Captain Scarlet, I wish I was talent enough to come
up with something like it, but they belong to other people.
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