Stephen!
How could she have let it happen?
She should have realised that he hadn’t followed her out. Should have gone back for him.
But it was no good dwelling on it now.
She was all alone. No one else knew what was happening, and there was no one else she could trust.
Her phone rang, startling her a little. She pulled it out of her pocket. It was her mum.
She wiped her nose and answered the call.
“Joanna, what’s going on? Where are you?”
“Mum, I-”
“The police are here. They want you to hand yourself in.”
Joanna bit her lip. “Don’t believe what they tell you. It’s not true. None of it.”
“Joanna… Jo, please, just come home.”
“I… I love you mum.” She disconnected the call and stared at the phone. In all the excitement, she had forgotten about the video she had recorded from her hiding place in the cupboard. She pressed a few buttons to access the video clips, scrolled to the one she wanted and pressed play.
The view from her vantage point had been pretty poor, and most of the shot only showed people’s legs. The best thing about it was the conversation, but even she knew that without hard evidence to back it up, people wouldn’t believe any of it.
Her phone rang again and she turned it off, afraid that they could trace her by triangulating the signal somehow.
She shivered; tried to think what to do next. She wasn’t going to give in without a fight. Not now. But who could she turn to? Who in the world would believe her?
That’s when the inspiration struck.
There was someone. A person who denied it all, but someone who Joanna felt was lying.
The other cornea recipient.
Margaret Jones.
Without Stephen to drive her there, and being early in the morning, it took a combination of buses and taxis to reach Margaret’s house.
When she arrived, Joanna didn’t hesitate. She stormed up the path and knocked on the door. She continued knocking until a light came on.
“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Margaret said as she opened the door. “You’ll wake Charlie.”
She peered at Joanna for a moment until recognition dawned and she started to close the door. “Do you realise what bloody time it is? I told you once-”
Joanna leaned against the door. “I know what you told me, now you listen to me. I know you’ve seen them.”
“Seen what?”
“The shadows.”
Margaret visibly blanched. “Look, I don’t know what you’re on about. Now if you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”
“That won’t do any good. You’ve got to listen to me.”
A baby started crying in the background.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Margaret said. “I’ll never get him off again.”
“Well if you love your son, you’ll listen to me. Please. You’re the only hope I have left.”
“What are you saying? Are you threatening my son? Where’s your friend? The one you came here with before.” She peered past Joanna, eyes flitting nervously in their sockets.
“He’s dead. They got him.”
Margaret’s expression hardened. “I don’t know what you want, but please, just go.”
“You’ve seen them haven’t you,” Joanna said. “The shadows that surround certain people.”
“Shadows.” She chewed her lip. “It’s just a problem with my eye adjusting to the new cornea.”
“No, it’s not. Where did you see them, the shadows?”
“At the hospital.”
“Anywhere else?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Well doesn’t that tell you something? You don’t see them everywhere, because only certain people are… infected, but if we don’t do something, you’ll see them spread.”
“Infected. I don’t understand.”
The baby started crying louder, the sound turning into a scream.
“I know I’m going to regret this, but you’re going to have to come in before he wakes the whole street.”
As she opened the door, Joanna entered. She knew that Margaret must be alone with the infant, otherwise her partner would have seen to it. She closed the door as Margaret disappeared up the stairs, reappearing moments later cradling a baby.
“Through there,” she said, indicating a doorway with a nod of her head, “while I make him some milk.”
Joanna walked through the door Margaret had indicated and located the light switch. Sparsely furnished, the lounge contained a settee, a television, a sideboard and piles of baby toys that looked well used, perhaps second hand.
“Sorry about the mess,” Margaret said as she entered and pushed aside a pile of building blocks to sit on the settee, cradling her baby as she fed him from a bottle.
Joanna rubbed her face. She imagined she looked as bad as she felt.
“You’re going to find it hard to believe what I’m going to tell you,” Joanna said.
Margaret looked up. The baby in her arms sucked on the bottle in its mouth.
“There’s a man at the hospital who lost his arm, and don’t ask me how, but something has invaded his body.”
“Invaded? What do you mean?”
“It’s as though he’s been taken over, possessed by something evil. But now he’s not alone. He’s infecting other people with whatever it is inside him.”
“You do know how crazy that sounds?”
“Yes, but you’ve seen them. The corneas we received came from a priest. Somehow, I think his eyes allow us see the people that have been possessed. I know how this sounds, believe me, but I need you to help me.”
“Help you what?”
“To convince the authorities that they exist. That I’m not mad.”
“And what makes you think they’ll believe me any more than they believe you?”
Joanna looked Margaret straight in the eye. “We have to make them believe. Peoples’ lives depend on it. If not for me, then do it for your son. Whatever these things are, they’re going to spread if we don’t do something about it.”
Margaret didn’t look convinced; more sceptical. “It all sounds…”
“I know how it sounds, but you’ve got to believe me. People are dying out there. Here, look at this.” She withdrew her mobile, turned it on and played the video she had shot in the basement.
Margaret watched without speaking. When the video finished, she said, “All I saw were a load of legs. It could have been anyone.”
Joanna turned the phone back off. “What about the conversation?”
“It could have been staged. A recording. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Stand up and be counted. Back me up. Two people shout louder than one.”
Margaret removed the bottle from the baby’s mouth and placed him across her shoulder, patting his back. “I’m sorry, but I’m not convinced about what you’re saying. You’re talking as though they’re monsters.”
“Oh believe me, they’re worse than monsters.”
The baby burped and Margaret cradled him in her arms and stared at him. “I’d like to help… it’s just… I’ve got a family.”
Joanna wanted to shout, to scream, anything to secure Margaret’s help, but realising the futility of it, she nodded, resigned to being all on her own.
Apologising for waking her, Joanna left the house and walked up the street. She needed to clear her head, think things through.
Moths flitted around the streetlights like lost souls. Joanna knew how they felt. Her world would never be the same. And people had to know what was going on.
Whatever it took, she was going to bring the bastards down.
CHAPTER 27
“Well where will she go?” Malachi asked.