The Hill (The Spread, #1)

by Iain Rob Wright

“There’re gangsters everywhere, pal. You should know that.” “Because I’m black?” “Nah, because you’re a shady bastard.” “I’m a fully qualified veterinarian.” “Exactly. What kind of geezer studies eight years to stick his finger up a dog’s arse? Shady is what that is.”

“We’re here all weekend, mate. No need to rush.” “Sod that!” Sean reached into his jean pocket and produced a baggie filled with white powder. He dipped a finger in and rubbed the contents on his gums. “Ah, that’s banging. Anyone want a taste?” Everyone declined. While none of them were saints, this was a weekend on the lash, not a re-enactment of Trainspotting.

It’s not even meant for parties usually, but I found it cheap online and convinced the landlord we’d behave.” Sean pulled a face. “What you mean it’s not meant for parties?” “It’s a spiritual retreat or something.” “That would explain the spooky-looking cross over there,” said Loobey, pointing to a circle of white stones, within which stood a large wooden cross. The only thing lacking was a sacrificial altar. “Another thing we’re not supposed to mess with,” said Ryan. “It’s like a hundred years old. The landlord said it would be a crime to damage it.” “I’m climbing it,” said Sean, pupils already like dinner plates.

“We’re not rapists,” said Loobey, wounded. “Jesus, you make it sound like we’re dangerous.” They all looked at Sean. “One of us has already talked about chopping up bodies,” said Brett. Sean tutted. “I ain’t gonna kill nobody, am I? I’m just excited.” “Good to know,” said Ryan.

What happened to us? We used to go up town every weekend. Now we’re all too busy.” “We grew up,” said Tom. “We’re not teenagers any more, Ryan. You’re about to get married. I’m settled down with Amanda. Loobey has a daughter.” “Brett sticks his fingers up dog’s bumholes,” Sean added. Brett rolled his eyes. “You’re really on form today, aren’t you? Are you going to be like this all weekend?” “There’s a strong possibility.”

Brett was a different animal, though. Driven, determined, and desperate to show that a black kid from Manchester’s mean streets could achieve anything an entitled white kid from Hampshire could. To his credit, he had done just that.

Ryan turned to him. “You can stay down here, mate. Don’t worry about it.” “What? And face Sean taking the piss out of me for the rest of the weekend? No thanks. Shite, here I go.” Loobey hurried towards the hill, cursing the entire way. “You’ll be the bloody death of me one day, Sean.” Tom looked between Brett and Ryan. “He’s not wrong. A cracked skull is better than Sean heckling us relentlessly.” Brett looked towards the top of the hill and shrugged. “How hard can it be?” Ryan sighed. “Come on, then. Let’s go kill ourselves.”

“D’you think this is what caused the earthquake?” asked Loobey, staring down at the strange black object. It was shaped like a spiral – a giant corkscrew. Its black surface appeared metallic and wet, but there had been no rain. Deeply lodged into the ground, it rose six feet into the air before them, widening at the top.

Ryan tried to reassure him. “I don’t think there’s anything strong enough to permanently stain your skin. Try to chill out.” Sean eyeballed him suspiciously. “What about tattoos and that? They stain forever.” Loobey shook his head. He was leaning over the counter, slightly out of breath and still wearing his coat. “The ink goes underneath the skin, on like the deeper layers or something.” “He’s right,” Brett shouted from the lounge. “The outer layer of your skin sheds constantly, so nothing can stain it permanently. Not unless it’s some kind of dangerous chemical that alters your DNA. Can I have that drink now, please?” Sean’s eyes widened. “Alters my DNA?”

Still embracing Sean, Tom let out a chuckle. “You’re a certifiable nutcase, Sean, but you’re our nutcase.” “You fucking wot?” Sean reared back, surprising Tom with the sudden aggression so much that he did nothing as Sean lunged back in and clamped his jaws around his ear. Tom squealed in pain.

All Ryan had wanted was one last weekend before becoming a fully fledged adult. He had wanted to laugh and joke one last time without a ring on his finger. Sophie was his future, but he wanted to give a proper goodbye to his past. Now it seemed like the past had ended without him realising it. He was trying to recreate something that was already dead and buried.

At first, Loobey learning he had cancer had been the scariest thing ever – nothing was scarier than dying, right? – but then he learned that being alive with cancer was even worse. Despite the doctors telling him that his odds of surviving were constantly improving, he had grown weaker and weaker, until he barely felt like himself any more. He was closer to death than ever, even as he fought to live, but it was what lay ahead that worried him most. Health was no longer a straight line, it was a rollercoaster, and he never knew when the next drop was coming. His biggest fear was that he would eventually start fearing life more than death. If that happened, it would all be over. The only light in his life was Lucy, and the thought of leaving her behind caused him even more pain than the cancer.

I came here to escape death. Just one weekend without black clouds hanging over me.

Sean looked at himself, taking a moment before he spotted the strange growths all over his stomach. Patches of green fuzz had sprouted just above his belly button, forming a patchy line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxer shorts. A clump of it also covered the back of his right arm. And both hands. Loobey shifted himself backwards on his bed, pulling his legs up. “What the hell is that stuff?” Brett shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Brett shrugged. “Dogs, people, it’s all the same. Keep them calm and they won’t bite you.” “Wonderful, you’re comparing me to a dog.” “You’re right, I apologise. You’re far too prissy to be a dog. You’re more of a cat. A Persian Longhair perhaps.”

Ryan remembered trying to get up, but the ex-paratrooper had kicked him in the head. Then, at some point while he was unconscious, Ryan’s arm had been bent backwards and snapped at the elbow. It took six months to fully heal. Ryan’s mum had been furious, distraught, and had wasted no time in calling the police. The man who had attacked her boy was Neil Mitchell, and he had received eighteen months in HMP Wakefield and a nasty newspaper article written about him in the Manchester Evening News. Aaron had gone to his bedroom and had stayed there for the next nine years, surviving on Pot Noodles and video games. Ryan’s stupid antics had traumatised his younger brother, who was already reeling from the loss of an uninterested father.

“I don’t think he meant to hurt Tom.” “Me neither.” “No, Ryan, I mean he wasn’t in control. When he bit Tom, it was after he’d got that green stuff all over his hands. What if it was already messing with his brain?”

Ryan shuddered. “Are they some kind of beetle?” “No.” Aaron spoke confidently as he leaned over to examine the lumpy creatures about the size of an unshelled peanut. “They only have four legs. That doesn’t make sense at all. Insects have six legs. Arachnids have eight. Only mammals have four, but no mammal is this small.”

Ryan grunted. “Fine, but it’s on your head if that thing escapes.” “It’s just an insect, Ryan.” “No, little brother, you said it yourself. It’s something else.”

“Just go away, Sean. Please!” “I ain’t going nowhere, our kid. I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna get you all.” Ryan screamed as Sean’s face appeared in the broken window diamond. His flesh dripped away from his skull, a green and brown slop. Both of his eyes were gone, replaced by writhing insects, his nose a pair of sunken pinholes. Sean was gone. A monster had taken his place.

Sophie literally saved my life that day.” “I doubt the goose would have killed you,” said Brett, tears in his eyes from laughing. “It was probably defending its young; they’re highly territorial. When you stopped to catch your breath, it must have felt threatened.” “Trust you to take the goose’s side,” said Ryan.

I’m ready to run. I’m ready to leave the past behind.

“It’s dark,” said Aaron, looking around as they walked slowly down the centre of the road. “Quiet.” “It’s the middle of the night.” Aaron shook his head. “No, I mean all of the lamp posts are switched off. None of the houses have their lights on. You’d think at least one would have left on a landing light, or a bathroom. There’re no lights anywhere. Look around.”

“Something’s wrong.” Aaron nodded. “I know. What is it?” “I don’t know.” The shadows moved.

At first it was unclear what Aaron was indicating, but then Ryan’s eyes adjusted enough to discern a dim silhouette of a corkscrew. No. His eyes flicked to the right, and he spotted a second corkscrew, further away but easy to see due to the way its metallic surface caught and reflected the moonlight. No!

The Cartwright brother raced towards the church. The whole time, Ryan couldn’t help screaming madly inside his own head – The corkscrews landed everywhere. Everywhere.