Doctor Who_ The Bodysnatchers - Mark Morris [72]
And I've seen a dragon too, the length of four men, with teeth as long as my hand.' He held out his hand to demonstrate his point, then stared at it, fear swirling in his eyes, as if his memories were threatening to engulf him once more.
A murmur ran round the room, part superstitious dread, part disbelief. Then a youth hovering at Henry Peterson's shoulder, perhaps emboldened by Jack's sorry state, piped up/I've seen such creatures oft-times myself.They reside at the bottom of my glass.'
There was a smattering of nervous laughter, a release of tension more than anything, but Jack was not amused. With a sudden roar, he barged Henry Peterson out of the way and launched himself at the youth. Before the youth knew what was happening, Jack had grabbed him around the throat with one huge hand and slammed him up so hard against the bar that his back bent like a bow. With his free hand Jack snatched up a half-full glass and smashed it into the startled youth's face.
Blood poured from the youth's lacerated mouth and from Jack's cut fingers, but the big man seemed oblivious to his own wounds. He forced the gurgling youth's mouth open with one massive, grimy hand and started shoving chunks of broken glass into it with the other.
'Don't you mock me!' he roared.'Don't you ever mock me! I'll have your tongue out, you bloody maggot!'
The youth's eyes rolled and blood poured down his chin and spattered on the bar. He began to squeal as best he could as Jack selected a large and viciously sharp chunk of glass from the debris, and holding it in his blood-slippery fingers started hacking away inside the youth's mouth.
No one moved to intervene in the one-sided contest, partly because they were too afraid of Jack Howe to do so, and partly because they were enjoying the show. Indeed, a number of Jack's cronies clapped and cheered as Jack suddenly straightened up, holding aloft a sizeable portion of the youth's tongue. After milking the applause for a moment, Jack tossed the bloody gobbet of flesh aside and turned away from the youth, who slid to the floor, barely conscious, blood spilling from his slashed mouth.
'Gin,'Jack ordered, not even bothering to clean the blood from his hands.
When the drink arrived, he knocked it back as before, then immediately ordered another.
His cronies gathered around him, eager to bask in his dangerous aura.'What about these creatures you saw then,Jack?' someone shouted.
'What about 'em?'Jack growled.
'Where did you see 'em?' someone else asked.
'In the basement of Seers's factory, down by the river. Poor old Albert and I had a bit of business there, if you get my meaning.'
Though Jack was not exactly his old self, his encounter with the youth, who was still lying unattended in a widening pool of his own blood, had restored his spirits a little.
'It seems to me that something ought to be done about 'em,' Henry Peterson said.
There was a drunken ripple of assent.
Jack looked around at his cronies and after a moment he muttered, 'That factory's a place of evil. I say we burn it to the ground.'
This time the ripple raised itself to a roar. Glasses were clashed together.
Jack grinned, tilted back his head and threw another gin down his throat.
***
All in all, it had been a quiet night on the manor. The light but incessant rain had persuaded those with homes to stay indoors. As PC Harry Bowman undertook his nightly patrol along the river bank he reflected that there was an added chill to the air this evening. Surely it would not be too much longer before the first snows of this so-far mild winter would begin to fall, casting a cold white blanket over the