Death Day by Shaun Hutson Page A

rattling began again, louder this time, he squinted through the darkness, trying to clear his head, trying to see what was making the noise. He stepped closer and then, in the dull light which was escaping from the living room into the kitchen, he saw it.
        The handle of the back door was being moved up and down.
        Reece swallowed hard.
        Someone was trying to get in.
        If he had been sober, perhaps his reaction would have been different. Perhaps he would have noticed the dog, cowering in one corner, perhaps he would have noticed the deep cold which had filled the room. Perhaps he would even have called the police.
        As it was, he reached for the handle, his other hand turning the key in the lock.
        The rattling stopped and, through clouded eyes, Gordon Reece saw the handle slowly turn as the door was pushed open. He took a step back, rubbing his eyes, his heart thudding against his ribs.
        The door swung back gently on its hinges and the room suddenly became colder.
        Reece gasped, not sure whether he was asleep or not. Was he dreaming? Perhaps he was already dead and in hell. His dulled brain had no answer to give him this time.
        Standing before him, the dirt of the grave still clogging her empty eye sockets, was his wife.
        There was a blur of gold as the labrador bolted through the open door into the night and Gordon opened his mouth, not knowing whether to be sick or scream.
        The thing which had once been Emma Reece took a step towards him. Her lips slid back to reveal teeth dripping saliva and Gordon saw the savage wounds on her throat which had killed. her, the deep scratches around her eyes. Eyes? There was nothing there. Just the torn sockets, black and empty as night. But there was something more and now Gordon prayed that his mind was playing tricks on him. For in those twin black voids were two pin pricks of red light. Light that glowed like the fires of hell and, in his last moments, Gordon saw that red light fill her empty eyes.
        He had no time to scream before she was upon him.
        
***
        
        Lambert looked at his watch and then up at the clock on the police station wall. It was nine fifteen, Sunday morning.
        'Shit,' he said, 'might as well get it over with.'
        Hayes nodded.
        'What's Reece's address?' asked the Inspector.
        Hayes flicked through the files and found it. Lambert wrote it down. He looked around the duty room. There were only three constables on duty this morning. Three at the station at any rate. The other seven were out looking for Mackenzie.
        'P.C. Walford, you drive me,' Lambert smiled. 'Why the hell should I use my own petrol?'
        Walford followed him out into the car park and unlocked one of the four Panda cars which the force possessed. Both men got in and Walford started the engine.
        'It's a beautiful day,' Lambert observed as the Panda moved slowly through the streets of Medworth. 'Too nice to be doing this sort of thing.'
        Walford smiled. 'Where do you reckon Mackenzie is, guv?'
        Lambert shrugged. 'He's probably left the area by now. I mean, looking at it logically, if he was still around here we'd have found him by now.' Walford wasn't convinced. 'There's plenty of places to hide in the hills around town. There's caves that run for miles.'
        'Maybe. We'll see what turns up.'
        'My Mum's scared about all this, guv.'
        'You haven't been talking have you, Walford? I don't want too much of this getting out. In a small town like this panic could spread quickly.' He paused, looking out of the car windows. 'I just wish we could find the bastard before he has the chance to do it again. I'd rather people read about this sort of thing in the paper after we caught him. If there's too much talk before hand, it won't make our job any easier.'
        They drove for a little way in silence then Lambert asked,