Eventually the man’s legs stopped quivering and all was quiet. The hags had done nothing but stand over him and watch, silent and patient. Now some of them reached down to dip their long, crooked fingers into the blood, lifting it to their lips.
Gwen started to crawl away, tears running down her face. She didn’t get far before one of the water hags picked her up as if she weighed nothing. Gwen felt her feet leave the ground and she hung in the air while Saskia approached. ‘Going somewhere?’
‘You’re sick,’ Gwen spat at her. ‘Twisted!’
‘I’m afraid not. We’re just survivors, like you. Only we’re better at it, obviously.’
The water hag let her go and Gwen crashed to the ground, crying out in pain. She rolled over and away, but she couldn’t get far. She was just too weak. She crawled another metre or so and then stopped, coughing heavily, and Saskia laughed. ‘And by the way, you’re the one who’s sick, remember?’
‘Why here?’ Gwen asked, panting. ‘Why Earth?’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we’re here. The human race. It’s our planet.’
‘Not for much longer.’
Gwen smiled and gave a little laugh, sinking to her knees.
‘What’s so funny?’ Saskia demanded.
‘Nothing. It’s just …’ Gwen laughed again. ‘It’s just … I can’t believe aliens are invading Earth … starting with Cardiff.’
‘I’m glad you find it so amusing.’
Gwen stopped laughing, straightened her face, bit her lip. ‘No, no, you’re right, it’s not funny,’ she said. ‘But this is.’
She brought the gun up, pulled the trigger. The shot echoed around the bay area, the muzzle flash lighting up the water tower like a camera flash. Saskia jerked backwards, lifted off her feet by the bullet. It probably wasn’t a killing shot. She hadn’t been able to take her time and aim properly. She had just managed to crawl her way over to where the gun had been lying half-hidden in the shadow of the tower, and grab it, shoot it. But it was enough. The other water hags hissed in shock, automatically turning to their leader as she staggered backwards.
And then Gwen ran, heading for the road, pointing the automatic behind her and pulling the trigger again and again. She didn’t care if she hit any of them, she just wanted to create a noise, a commotion, something that would attract attention. She couldn’t do this on her own. Toshiko slid the needle deep into Jack’s forearm and depressed the plunger. The contents of the syringe disappeared into his bloodstream as she looked up at him and smiled. ‘Just a little prick,’ she said with a shy smile.
‘Knew you’d say that,’ he croaked. He tried returning the smile but didn’t really have the strength. Instead he closed his eyes and sank back into his office chair with a sigh.
Toshiko bit her lip. She looked at the empty hypodermic thoughtfully.
‘What was in it?’ asked Owen. He had crawled across the floor, coughing fitfully and too weak to stand up. His eyes were red-rimmed, the skin around them a distinct grey colour. He knew, as Toshiko did, that every time he coughed now could be the beginning of the end. His lips were caked in thick, congealing blood.
‘It’s a cocktail,’ she told him. ‘A wide-spectrum antibiotic mixed with an emetic and a little something extra.’
‘Antibiotics are a long shot,’ whispered Owen. ‘Emetics won’t help. What’s the little extra?’
‘Oestrogen.’
As sick as he was, Owen still managed to raise an eyebrow. ‘Female hormones? Jack will be delighted.’
Toshiko looked back at Jack. He hadn’t moved and his breathing was shallow. He was paler than ever, deep shadows around his eyes and his cheeks sunken. She had never seen him look so bad.
‘I’m hoping the mixture will be enough to weaken the homunculus and cause it to exit early. That way it might not kill the host.’
With an effort Owen levered himself up on one arm and began to roll up his sleeve. ‘Give it to me as well.’
‘I can’t,’ Toshiko said. ‘It’s purely experimental. Jack’s taking the risk for you.’
‘Tosh … we can’t afford to wait …’ Owen was breathing with difficulty now, forcing air in and out of his lungs in huge, wheezing gulps. ‘If Jack can take his chances … then so must we.’
Toshiko helped him upright. ‘It’s a one in three chance of success, Owen. Not great odds.’
‘One in three? I’d call that perfect odds. Jack, Ianto and me. One of us will make it.’ Owen coughed, retching on his hands and knees, putting one hand up to his neck as the muscles bulged until the veins stood out like wires.
‘Everybody …’ Ianto’s voice, although small and weak, nevertheless carried right across the Hub. Perhaps it was the note of alarm that attracted their attention, but Toshiko and Owen both turned around to look at him. Ianto was leaning against Toshiko’s workstation, pointing at one of the CCTV monitors.
Toshiko hurried across for a closer look. ‘It’s Gwen,’ she said. The screen showed Gwen backing away from the water tower, gun in hand, surrounded by water hags.
Owen pulled himself up onto the seat. Jack was still unconscious, his head lolling back, exposing the skin of his throat. The flesh was moving as the homunculus inside began to stir.
‘It’s starting,’ Owen said.
TWENTY-FIVE
Gwen didn’t have nearly enough ammunition to shoot her way out of this kind of trouble. She counted half a dozen water hags in front of her, and, flicking her head around, counted another four or five behind her. They were closing in, slowly, inexorably. Their long, bony fingers waved slowly, vicious claws glinting in the moonlight.
Where was everybody? Where were the cops? Never around when you needed them!
The water hags in front of her parted and Saskia Harden walked through. There was a bullet hole in her raincoat, on the right-hand side, just underneath where her collarbone should be. There was some kind of dark stain seeping through the material around the hole, but it wasn’t blood. It was a deep, inky green colour. As she approached, she unbelted the raincoat and let it slip from her shoulders with a casual shrug.
She was naked beneath. She took three more steps and then, passing through a shadow, her body seemed to ripple slightly. Gwen stared as she walked back into the light of the street lamps and then, with sudden clarity, realised what was happening. Saskia was shucking her human disguise like she had her raincoat.
At first, it looked as though water was streaming over her skin, running down her face and body as if she was standing under a shower. The shimmering passed over her like a sudden glimpse of silver scales, a fish-like iridescence that coursed through her features, robbing them of all humanity, flowing down between her breasts and out beneath the rest of her skin. She darkened, quickly and permanently, as if she was burning up without any visible flames, the flesh crisping into a rough, gnarled texture full of cracks and fissures.
‘Keep back,’ Gwen said, her voice firm as she carefully aimed her gun. She felt as if, finally confronted with the hideous wrongness, a preternatural resolve was flooding through her. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. ‘I swear I’ll shoot if you take another step.’
The water hag smiled. Or at least that’s what Gwen thought it must have been doing. She could see a lot of teeth, but its facial expressions failed to correspond with anything Gwen recognised. All her natural, instinctive behavioural cues were missing. With dreadful fascination, Gwen realised that she was looking right into the eyes of a truly alien being.
The eyes were narrow, pus-yellow, with latitudinal slits like those of a goat. They were set deep in the face, surrounded by a thick web of shadows. The nose was little more than a jutting blade surmounting vertical holes like those in a skull. Beneath this was the wide, crescent-shaped mouth, parted to show the grey, needle-like teeth and a thin, flickering black tongue.
And when the smile came — and now Gwen knew it
