‘Are you okay?’
‘You know what, Matt? I think you’re wrong about this spirit stuff. This demonology thing. I’m thinking there’s something to it.’
‘Even when the poltergeist was faked? He turned up in the mask, climbed up on her roof. Got into the house and stole stuff, turned sofas over. Said if she told anybody she’d be in trouble. There’s nothing supernatural about—’
‘Don’t you get this feeling, though?’ He was looking at one of the strip lights above them. It was flickering. He put his fingertips against his chest. ‘In here, I mean. That Holly’s at peace now. Does that sound ridiculous? That I feel like she’s … like she’s resting now? That she got him to stop?’
Matt kept quiet.
‘We informed Steph’s husband, Greg, of what happened tonight … which reminds me. Josh Ellis gave me a message for you.’
Matt sat up. Pictured himself with the kid sitting in front of Scooby Doo. ‘Yeah?’
‘He says …’ Larry dug into his inside pocket and pulled out a sliver of torn paper, about the size of a train ticket. A note was scrawled in kid’s pencil. Larry squinted to read it out. ‘Thank you for killing the bad thing.’
Matt still said nothing.
‘Well …’ Larry said, spotting Matt’s discomfort, and raised the tiny dregs of his bottle. ‘To Steph Ellis and Jo Finch and to Holly Wasson. Rest for ever in peace, girls.’
‘And to Lee …. what was his second name?’
‘Bradshaw.’
They held up their bottles and clinked them together. ‘To Lee Bradshaw.’ Then they swigged and winced.
‘By the way, that bottle Pastor Todd was carrying … it was holy water.’
Matt closed his eyes and chuckled for some reason.
‘He still thinks he and his clan were furthering the cause of the church. The cross, the note under your wiper. Anyway …’ He shifted in his chair. ‘And Matt, I want to thank you. I mean really thank you. If you hadn’t gone down there tonight and found them …’ He went to stand. ‘Are you going to be okay, on your own?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Matt, I’m serious.’ He felt Larry’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you okay, mate? Do you need anything?’
‘Wren’s on her way,’ he smiled at him. ‘It’s gonna be a long night explaining all of this.’
‘Maybe that’s because some things are unexplainable,’ he said. ‘See you later, Matt. And thanks again.’
He nodded and watched Larry walk down the corridor; he slowed only to look back at the flickering light for a few moments. Then he buttoned his jacket and vanished through the door.
The doors slid shut and Matt was alone in the cafe. Tea steaming while silent zombies scratched at a farmhouse on the silent screen. He wished he could find the remote.
He checked his phone again, and read the text from Wren that he’d been reading over and over since he got it an hour back.
Amelia’s sleeping in her own room with the light off! Says the shadow’s finally gone. Result! xxw
He stared at that for a long moment, wondering if Amelia’s bad thing was the same as Josh’s bad thing. The black rabbit demon that Joyce had said fuelled Jerry. He felt a prickle of cold and heard the echo of Larry’s voice.
Don’t you get this feeling … that Holly’s resting now? That she got him to stop?
Then Joyce in his ear … Matthew … what if there are such things?
‘Yeah, right,’ he said to the empty room, then looked up at the TV on the wall. He could call a nurse in to change the channel. Sit in here and watch mindless chat shows until Wren turned up to whisk him away to normality. But just as he turned his wheelchair, the lights of the cafe flickered more frantically than before. Then after a click, they went out. All of them. The TV too.
The windows lost all their reflections.
The cafe was suddenly black.
Now he just saw darkness outside and the much clearer strip of trees and bushes, and the hill swooping down. He saw a gravel path winding near a tree. And standing in the treeline, he saw a black figure emerge. Thin and spindly. He slapped his hands on his wheels instantly and went to back away.
But he frowned. Despite himself, he pushed himself forward towards the window. Because he knew it couldn’t be Jerry again.
Joyce’s voice again: It’s not Jerry. It’s what was in Jerry. And is now out of Jerry. The black rabbit needs a new home.
Trick of the light. Trick of the dark. Whatever it was, the shadows fell in a very particular way. He knew that in essence they were random patterns of light and shade. Shapes that if Joyce or Bob or Rachel had been here, would have had them squealing rabbit and running for the door.
His heart started to pound. God, that did look like a tall rabbit. Which made him shake his head.
It’s nothing. It’s you reading order into chaos.
It was moving. Swaying from side to side. A tall black figure.
You skipped rabies and got apophenia instead.
It took a step forward and he thought he might be trembling.
A cloud crossed the moon, and the shadow moved a little. Like an arm rising up and pointing across the grass at him. He felt the blood in his veins turn slowly to sludge.
The breeze threw leaves against the window, and the breeze said his name.
Maaaaaaattttthew. His mother’s voice. Or rather something trying to sound like her. Mama neeeeeeed.
He lost a breath.
There are such things.
Then he heard an electric buzz and a mechanical click, and the lights flickered back into life. A nurse with John Lennon glasses suddenly popped her head in.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Got someone fixing it now. You okay?’
He didn’t
