The Demon of Devilgate Drive (Skeleton Cove Horror Book 1) Page 4

  She threw her hands up in annoyance. 'Which is...?'

  I frowned. 'That's the trouble - I can't exactly remember. But I think he said it was one of those fan-festival things for people who love horror comics and movies. You know, like that Monster Mash thing we went to last year?'

  'Oh, yeah.' She nodded. 'But why wouldn't he put it to the wash?'

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. 'Jimmy doesn't get any pocket money so he can't tell his ma he bought it, can he?'

  'I thought he did little jobs and stuff for Harry? Doesn't he get paid for that?'

  'Course he does, silly, but his mother doesn't know about it so he has to keep quiet.'

  'Sounds like his mum's even worse than I thought.'

  'She is, believe me. Anyway, if it's not here, we're stuck.' I gazed around the room again but there wasn't anywhere else a tee-shirt could be hidden.

  'Maybe he was wearing it?' said Suzi.

  'Maybe.' I was studying the carpet and noticed a rather nasty Dandelion and Burdock stain that had started to go mouldy. Then I thought of something. 'Quick, give me a hand.'

  I moved to the side of the room and stood on the linoleum, signalling for Suzi to do the same, then we rolled up the carpet. We'd only pushed it a couple of feet when I found Jimmy's hiding place - underneath the rug lay a couple of sheets of newspaper. I guessed from the size it must've come from one of those free papers that got shoved through the doors of every householder in Skeleton Cove once a week, whether they wanted it or not. Pulling at the edge, I lifted it up. Sandwiched between two sheets of newspaper was the tee-shirt.

  We wasted no time getting out the house and didn't stop running until we reached Crucifixion Close.

  'Let's have a look at it, then,' said Suzi, panting from her exertions.

  I pulled the rolled-up shirt from inside my jacket. Standing under one of the streetlights, I held it up. The main image was just how I remembered it - a scary-looking skull with blood dripping from the eyeholes and rotten teeth in its grinning mouth.

  'Cool,' said Suzi. 'In a gross sort of way.'

  I studied the image for some clue to where Jimmy might have bought it, but there was nothing obvious. Just the legend underneath the skull that said:

  Blood and Bone, Then You're Gone

  'Give it here,' said Suzi. 'My eyesight's better than yours.'

  Holding the shirt up to her face, she peered at the fabric, studying every inch of the image. 'Wait...' Stretching the shirt widthways, she held it out to me. 'There - that wavy line underneath.'

  I looked at what I'd thought was a scroll under the legend, but now I could see it was made up of words.

  'Too small. What's it say?'

  She pointed out the individual words. 'From the Machinations of Demonic Devilry. Then something I can't make out, then...printed at Skins and Bones, Devilgate Drive, Skeleton Cove.' She looked at me. 'Where's Devilgate Drive?'

  I shrugged. 'Never heard of it. But Skins and Bones sound like it might be the name of a shop.'

  'We need a map, then,' said Suzi. 'Or a phone book.'

  I grinned. 'Or...someone who's lived in Skeleton Cove a long, long time. Come on - we've got to go the pictures.'

  'To see the movie?'

  'No, to find a really old man.'

  Revenge of the Sludge Monster should have been a popular movie, but the heating system in the ancient Skeleton Cove Film Theatre was like the rest of the building - outdated. The place had been popular in the Sixties and had garnered a whole new audience after Art Deco cinemas came back into fashion when I was small. Now though, most cinemagoers preferred one of the multi-screen Picture Palaces in the next town, to a sorry-looking place like this. Consequently, it was only die-hard film fans who braved the non-existent heating and threadbare seats - especially during the winter months. And those who did turn up, tended to wear big coats and woolly hats.

  Peggy the usherette sold us two tickets for the Circle and pointed out in a monotone voice that we'd missed half the movie but could still buy popcorn if we wanted. I thanked her and said we weren't hungry, then grabbing Suzi's hand, hurried up the winding staircase to the double doors that led into the cinema.

  Even though the movie was a good one, it was a different feature of the cinema that interested me. Dragging Suzi along the passage, I pushed through a door at the end marked 'No Admittance'. It led to a short staircase. Climbing to the upper level, I stopped at the small door and peered though the circular window.

  'He's here. Come on.' Pushing open the door, I coughed politely. The room reverberated with the clattering spools of the projector, as well as a spookily echoing soundtrack coming from the speakers in the cinema several feet below. The gray-haired man standing by the projector glanced round. On seeing me, his face darkened:

  'Ye dae realise ye've missed half the film, laddie?' Then he grinned and shook my hand.

  'This is Suzi,' I said. 'Suzi, this is Mr McTaggart, the projectionist.'

  'Always happy tae meet a pal o' Jeff's,' he said, shaking her hand warmly. 'Though I'd be happier if the pair of yous were down below watchin Revenge of the Sludge Monster. It's a guid one, ye ken?'

  'I know it's good,' I said, 'but we're not here to see the film, Mr McTaggart.'

  'Ye're not?'

  'No, we wanted to ask you about a place called Devilgate Drive.' I watched his face carefully.

  'Hmmm,' he said, rubbing his bristly chin. 'Devilgate Drive, eh? That's a place I've no heard of for a lang lang time.' He held up a finger. 'Just a wee minute.' Then turning his attention back to the huge projector behind him, he put his eye to the square window that looked out onto the cinema screen. With his other hand resting on a lever at the side of the machine, he counted, 'One, two and...' With a deft movement, he flicked the lever over and I saw the third spool of film spring into life.

  'There ye go, we'll be fine for twenty minutes or so now.'

  'So have you heard of it?'

  The old man peered at Suzi. 'Oh, Aye, I've heard of it alright.' He rubbed his chin again and looked up at the ceiling. 'Let me see...somethin like...Ribtickler Grove. Or Backbone Place...' His face creased up in thought. 'Carcass Close, maybe?' He shook his head. 'Nope. Cannae bring it to mind. Though I'll ken what it is when I see it.'

  'It's not called Devilgate Drive, then?' I said.

  'No, laddie. They changed it years back after that awfa business wi' Nathaniel Darke.'

  I looked at Suzi. She shrugged.

  'Before your time,' he went on. 'The Darke family were a strange bunch right enough - Darke by name an dark by nature, so I heard.' He screwed up his eyes. 'Nathaniel, if I remember right, he took over the family's construction business, but it didnae go well. Ran it into the ground, he did - literally. After he disappeared, they bulldozed the place ye're speakin about. Flat as a pancake. Council built somethin else instead.'

  Pulling out the T-shirt, I held it up for him. 'It says on here that this was printed in Devilgate Drive. How can that be if it isn't there anymore?'

  Mr McTaggart studied the shirt. 'Cannae rightly say, son, but it's maybe just someone that wants folk tae think it still exists, or wants a spooky name for an address.' He made a face. 'Probably one of those marketing ploys, ken?'

  I nodded, though I didn't really understand. 'So, if we wanted to go there...to the estate where Devilgate Drive used to be, how would we find it?'

  'I ken whit I'd do,' he said. 'Ask a postman.'

  Suzi tugged my sleeve. 'But they still might not know exactly where Devilgate Drive was,' she said.

  Mr McTaggart made a clucking noise with his tongue. 'Aye, I comprehend the problem.' Then he grinned. 'Yous need to ask someone that has access to old maps. Go an see Mrs Leggart.'

  Six

  By the time I got home, the late news was on telly. I sat down next to Mum as a reporter started talking about developments in the Harry McSpawn case.

  'Do they know who did it?' I said.

  'They're saying it might have been a heart at
tack.'

  'Didn't look like that to me.'

  Mum shushed me and leaned forward. The reporter was saying what a quiet town Skeleton Cove was but how the community had been shattered by the death of local businessman Harold McSpawn. The camera panned across the outskirts of the town, showing the lighthouse and the famous 'pirates' cave, before skimming through a sort of montage of scenes of the town: Haggarty Park, the pool hall, the blackened ruins of Fat Moe's. Then we were back with the reporter, closing in on his face as he finished his spiel. When the picture flashed back to the studio, the newscaster added that a young boy - James Brick - had also gone missing in Skeleton Cove, but police didn't think there was any connection.

  When the programme moved on to other news, Mum turned the sound down and looked at me.

  'What?'

  'You don't know anything else about this, do you?' Her eyes looked a bit funny, like she'd been crying.

  'No, just what Sergeant Potter said.'

  She nodded slowly. 'Suzi's mum came round earlier.'

  'Oh?' I swallowed hard and rubbed my nose. I didn't think I'd done anything to worry about, but me and Mum didn't always agree on what was important and what wasn't.

  'I think she just wanted a chat.' Mum put a hand out and stroked the side of my face. 'You know I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you...' Her eyes glistened and I thought she might cry.

  'I know, and I'll be careful. I promise.'

  'That's what your dad used to say.'

  We sat quietly for a few more minutes, then Mum turned the sound back up on the telly to hear the weather report. I said I was going to bed.

  My bedroom looked fine. Mum had washed the sheets and replaced them on my bed. They smelled clean, though there was a feint, barely discernible whiff of decay - as if whatever it was that'd stained the bedding still lingered. It reminded me of what Mr McTaggart had said about Devilgate Drive being bulldozed. Something terrible must have happened there for them to flatten the place like that. And who on earth was Nathaniel Darke?

  I got into my pyjamas and went to the toilet. Then I rooted out one of my old Action Man figures from the toy box in the cupboard and jammed his foot under the door to keep it open. I left the bedside light on as well. Just in case.

  When I woke up, I had the feeling something was wrong. It was still quite dark, just like the previous night, but there was something else. I blinked a few times and looked around.

  The bedside light was out and the door was shut.

  I sat up and gripped the sides of my bed. This wasn't going to happen again. Not tonight. I wasn't going to let it. This was my bedroom and...

  No, relax, everything's fine. I glanced at the poster of Nosferatu on the wall. There was nothing scary about it, not really. And of course the light was off and the door shut - Mum would have done that when she came up to bed. That's what she always did.

  But...that poster. There was something odd about it. I stared at the actor's features, trying to work out what had changed. Then I realised - it wasn't the poster that was different, it was the room. The room was lighter than the night before, almost as if a full moon had come to a halt right beside our house and was beaming its rays in through the curtains.

  I jumped out of bed and grabbed hold of the curtains, then with a sharp tug, pulled them back. There was a face at the window. Or to be precise, what was left of a face. A skull, in fact. A skull with bright, burning eyes of fire.

  For what seemed like the longest moment ever, I was completely unable to breathe, as if my lungs had suddenly ceased to function. It was only when the skull's mouth dropped open and spoke to me that I regained the ability to breathe, and more importantly, to create sound.

  And this time I did scream. Loudly.

  When Mum had finally calmed me down, she explained that there was a full moon (she'd heard it on the weather report), so it must have been the bright light that frightened me. She said if we looked out the window it would still be there. And it was - a huge pale orb. Apparently, it was a rare occurrence in Skeleton Cove for the moon to be so close and so bright.

  Even so, she couldn't explain how I'd seen a hooded figure and the face of a dead man (or woman) at my window. It must have been another nightmare.

  After a cup of hot milk, I made myself comfortable on the sofa and Mum promised she wouldn't turn out the lights again.

  But I didn't sleep any more that night.

  The next day was Sunday so I guessed there wasn't much me and Suzi could do in terms of our investigation. I went round to hers and told her about my 'nightmare'. This time she was more sympathetic. But there was a good reason for that.

  'It happened to me, too.'

  'What? You saw a skull?'

  She shook her head. 'No. But I heard something in the middle of the night.'

  'A voice?'

  'I think so. I woke up about two o'clock and it felt like there was something in my bed.' She licked her lips. 'When I turned to look, there was nothing there, but that's when I heard it.'

  Now she had my full attention. 'What'd it say?'

  'I'm not sure. It sounded like, leave here, or leave me.' She shrugged. 'But I might've imagined it.'

  I was desperate to believe her, to know she'd experienced what I'd experienced. Though that was hardly fair, since the whole thing had scared the pants off me, and I definitely didn't want Suzi to feel like that. But I did want her to appreciate what had happened to me.

  'Maybe it was cos of all that stuff going round in your head, you know, what I told you and everything. Not the sort of thing you want to be thinking about when you're trying to get to sleep.' I smiled, hoping she'd believe me. 'Anyway, one of us has to stay sane.'

  'What we going to do, then?' she said.

  'Dunno. We don't know where that place is so we can't really do anything until tomorrow.'

  We were sitting on her front wall as usual, watching one of Suzi's neighbours burn a pile of garden rubbish. From here, if I leaned forward and twisted round, I could look along the street and almost see into our kitchen window. If Dangerous Dan hadn't built a garage on the side of his house, I'd have had a clear view of Mum doing the washing up.

  'What're you looking at?' said Suzi.

  'Nothing.'

  'Yeah, you are.'

  'Alright, I am. But it's pointless telling you, cos it's boring.'

  'Oh.' She was quiet for a moment, then, 'Well I'm bored anyway so you may as well tell me.'

  It was one of the things I liked about Suzi - I could talk to her about anything, and she always pretended to be interested. Even when she wasn't. So I told her about Dangerous Dan and the garage and how if it wasn't there I'd be able to see Mum doing the washing up, and so on and so on.

  Suzi laughed. 'I don't suppose Mr Dangerfield was thinking about that when he built the garage.'

  'No, probably not.'

  'I like how you always give people nicknames.'

  'No, that's his name. I mean, his name's Reginald Dangerfield, but they used to call him Dangerous Dan cos he isn't.'

  'Isn't what? That doesn't make sense.'

  'Yeah it does - look,' I said. 'It's like one of those thingummys...antithesis.' She gave me a blank look, so I went on. 'Sort of like the opposite. They call him Dangerous Dan because he isn't dangerous.'

  'Oh.' She frowned. 'But why would he be dangerous?'

  I performed a mega sigh. 'Cos when he was a taxi driver he used to drive everywhere at 28 miles an hour.' I made a tah-dah gesture. 'Therefore, not dangerous.'

  'He was a taxi driver?'

  She was beginning to annoy me. 'Yes!'

  'So why don't we ask him?'

  'Ask him what?'

  'How to get to Devilgate Drive, of course.'

  I had to admit I was a bit miffed not to have thought of it first, but Suzi was always quicker than me at picking up on stuff.

  We walked down the street to the corner and crossed to Mr Dangerfield's house. I could see him standing at the kitchen window with
his wife. He was helping her wash the dishes. They both had big smiles on their faces. It reminded me of how my dad used to help around the house.

  It was Mrs Dangerfield who answered the door. She was holding an apron in one hand. I guessed she'd taken it off to come to the door.

  'Hello?'

  'Oh, hi Mrs D.'

  'Hi yourself,' she said, giving me a suspicious look. 'Not Bob-a-Job week, is it?'

  I shook my head. 'No, and anyway, I'm not in the scouts. We just wanted a word with your husband.'

  She folded her arms and looked as if she might be ready to stand there all day. 'Is that right? Well, it's funny, but I know all of Reg's mates, and I've never known him to hang around with you two.' She inclined her head and stared at me. 'You're Elaine Starkey's lad, aren't you?'

  I nodded.

  Mrs Dangerfield looked at Suzi. 'I know you, too - not leading you astray, is he?'

  Suzi moved her head from side to side. 'I'm not easily led.'

  'Well, you'd better come in.' She stood aside and we trooped into the hall.

  In the kitchen, Mr Dangerfield was wiping his hands on a tea towel. 'What's this,' he said, 'a delegation?'

  'Well,' I said, glancing at Suzi for support. 'We were wondering if we could ask you about when you were a taxi driver.'

  Mrs Dangerfield patted her husband on the arm. 'Don't forget, that film you want to watch is on shortly.' She picked up a pile of ironing and went into the front room.

  The old man pulled out a chair and sat down. 'Haven't done that for a while, you know? Taxi driving.'

  'Oh, we know,' I said. 'I bet you went all over the place, eh?'

  He grinned. 'Oh aye, used to know Skeleton Cove like the back of me hand. Not so much now though - place has changed a lot over the years.'

  'That's why we thought you might be able to help,' I said. 'We wanted to ask if you ever went to a place called Devilgate Drive.'

  You'd have thought I'd slapped him right across the face. His mouth dropped open and he went dead pale, as if someone had turned on a tap in his foot and drained all the blood away. He stood up and pushed his chair back under the table.