Free The Beast by Barry Hutchison Page A

were closed over the narrow window. I eased two of the metal strips apart just enough to allow me to see out.
    The first thing I noticed was that the snow had stopped falling. The next thing I noticed were the screechers. The garden was full of them now. I counted fifteen before I stopped and came away from the window. Going out through the back door was out of the question. That was all I needed to know.
    Out front, the picture was brighter. I kept low behind the curtains of the second bedroom, looking out on to the main street. There were two screechers out there from what I could see, both well apart and shuffling in opposite directions.
    Through the window I could see almost the whole route to the police station. It looked like it was completely clear. A straight sprint and I could reach it in just a few minutes, as long as the snow didn’t slow me down too much.
    I decided that was what I would do. I’d get to the police station and meet up with the others. If I knew Ameena, she’d probably have headed there the moment we got separated. It would’ve been the sensible thing for her to do, and when it came to staying alive, Ameena was the most sensible person I’d ever met.
    Feeling suddenly hopeful, I left the bedroom and headed for the stairs. But a sound from beyond the closed door stopped me in my tracks. It was a soft padding sound – footsteps on carpet – and the high-pitched squeak of a creaky floorboard.
    I stepped back towards the stairs, getting ready to run as the handle turned and the bedroom door was opened from the inside.
    ‘Hello, son,’ said a man whose face I now knew all too well. My dad ran his fingers through his dark shaggy hair and flashed me a shark-like smile. ‘Long time no see.’

he last time I’d seen my dad, I’d smashed a rock into the side of his head. He hadn’t liked that much.
    I could still see a yellow-black bruise that ran across his temple and around one eye. The bruising seemed to bulge the eye outwards, making him look more deranged than ever.
    ‘ You ,’ I gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’
    ‘Just checking up on you,’ he said. ‘Making sure you’re OK. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t check up on you every once in a while?’
    He flashed me another smile, then turned and marched into the back bedroom. I held off for a moment, considering making a run for it and taking my chances with the screechers. But I had a lot of questions, and there was a very good chance he held the answers.
    ‘Quite a day, huh?’ he said as I entered the bedroom. He pulled the drawstring next to the window and the metal blinds rolled all the way up. He leaned on the sill and looked down at the garden, then whistled quietly through his teeth. ‘Quite a day.’
    ‘You did this,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you? You caused all this.’
    He turned from the window and leaned his back against the glass. ‘Me? No. Wouldn’t know where to start. But you have to admire the handiwork. The whole village? Wiped out in one night?’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘You have to admire the handiwork.’
    I stood my ground as he stepped towards me. ‘Oh, sure, there are a few survivors. A few stragglers still hanging around, but they’ll get them. Those things out there are nothing if not persistent. Am I right?’
    ‘Where’s my nan?’ I demanded.
    ‘I don’t have the first clue.’
    ‘Don’t lie!’ I snapped. ‘Where is she?’
    ‘My guess ? She’s out there somewhere.’ He jabbed a thumb towards the window. ‘All black-eyed and chomping teeth.’ He lunged towards me and clacked his teeth together just centimetres from the tip of my nose. I flinched and pulled back, which made him laugh out loud. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t resist.’
    ‘I swear, if you’ve hurt her...’ I told him.
    He waved a hand dismissively and sat on the end of the unmade bed. ‘So,’ he began. ‘How’s things?’
    I gawped at him. ‘What?’
    ‘How’s things? How’s life been