That,' replied Lowson thrusting his face close to Gavin's, 'is my affair. You wouldn't co-operate with me in the beginning so from now onwards we'll work separately. The police were here earlier, suggesting we packed up and got out. I told 'em what they could do. It might not be a bad idea if the pair of you opted out though. The law doesn't want you, and I certainly don't If you want to stay then keep out of my way! '
'We will, don't worry,' Gavin snarled, motioning Liz to follow him. 'If that's how you want it Prof, from now on it's every man for himself. And we're staying!'
The inhabitants of Sutton had overcome their fear with the coming of the army, and the terrors of the previous night were almost forgotten with the excitement of having a tank stationed in the car-park of The Bull. The sight of the heavy artillery, a crate of Mills bombs and a few .303 rifles soon restored their confidence. The beast from the marshes was as good as dead!
'I wouldn't be too sure,' said Tom Southgate, making the most of his popularity in his crowded bar. 'This ain't no ordinary beast. Armour-piercing shells won't make any difference to it. You mark my words. I fired half of a box of BB cartridges at it last night. Every one was on target, full in the face, from no more'n twenty yards, and it never even blinked!'
The evening wore on. Scant attention was paid to the portable television set until ten o'clock. Then as the news came on everybody surged forward. They gazed open-mouthed at the picture of the very pub in which they now stood and fell silent as the newscaster's voice came over the air.
'A strange beast is believed to be on the prowl on the marshes of the Wash in the area of Sutton village. Two killings, previously believed to have been the work of a homicidal maniac are now attributed to this creature from the deep. In the early hours of this morning several villagers opened fire from their bedroom windows on what appeared to be a lizard but having marked human features. The beast killed an Alsatian dog and then escaped apparently unhurt, surviving a number of point-blank shotgun blasts. An army defence post has now been set up in the village anticipating a return of this monster. Gerald Watson. News at Ten. Sutton, Lincolnshire.'
A buzz of conversation broke out again in the bar-room and Tom Southgate switched off the set This was great. The longer the creature delayed its reappearance, the better. He made a mental note to telephone the brewery in the morning to ask for an extra delivery of bitter. This business could go on for a very long time.
Soon after dark Gavin and Liz heard Professor Lowson go out. They had not spoken to him since their earlier defiant exchange, and the tension which had built up since seemed to ease with his departure.
'Why don't we follow him?' Liz asked as they heard his footsteps dying away.
'No point,' Gavin replied, pulling on a thick polo-necked sweater. 'He's got no more idea of where to find the Slime Beast than we have. If he had he'd either have got himself killed last night or else brought it in alive. I reckon our best bet is to hide up somewhere down by the big creek where it flows out into the mud-flats. That's where we saw the thing walk off into the sea, and it's as good a place to start as any.'
Carefully he unwrapped the flame-gun and made sure it was in working order. Then he fetched a can of paraffin from the hall and filled the container.
'Seems just the job,' he murmured. 'You know Liz, I'd feel much happier if you stopped here until I get back. If this thing doesn't work or doesn't keep the Slime Beast off...'
'Just suppose the Slime Beast comes here while you're down by the big creek,' she countered, 'and finds me all on my own.'
'You win,' he sighed. 'Maybe, though, we just ought to leave it all to the army... and the Professor.'
But she did not reply and five minutes later they pulled the door shut behind them and set off into the night Once again the moon was sufficiently full to bathe the saltings in its silvery glow and enable them to see their way with ease. There was no sign of any fog. Instead a fresh sea-breeze blew into their faces, the salt making their lips smart
'There's the big creek ahead,' Gavin pointed to a swirling muddy channel amid the thick spike-grass. 'On second thoughts we won't wait at the mouth. If the Slime Beast should emerge on the opposite bank we won't be able to get within range. As it is, if we take up a position further .back I can leap across where it narrows if necessary.'
'Seems a good idea,' she replied. 'Let's get settled in somewhere. I shall be glad when this night's over.'
Professor Lowson smiled to himself as he arrived at the mouth of the big creek. The small hollow on the near bank afforded shelter and cover as well as an ample view of the mud-flats in front of him. Carefully he unpacked his roll of strong netting, folding it neatly into a small square with the iron hooks resting on the top. He tested its weight with his right hand. Heavy but manoeuvrable. He lit his pipe and settled down to wait.
CHAPTER TEN
THE tide flowed. Paused. Ebbed. Seldom did it reach beyond the line of zos on Shep White's except during spring tides and in gales.
It was high tonight, coming almost within fifty yards of the old blockhouse, and creeping relentlessly. Only once had it ever been inside the concrete building, fifteen years previously when two visiting fowlers had disregarded their tide tables and camped there. Both had been drowned.
The salt residue sparkled in the moonlight as the water receded. Somewhere wild geese gaggled. Yet the saltings were not deserted altogether. In front of the sea-wall crouching behind the trunk of a dead tree which had been washed ashore during the summer a man waited. There was nothing about him to invite the interest of a passer-by. He was of average build and clean-shaven, no different from any of the other sensation-seekers who preferred to conduct their vigil within the confines of the village, secure in the knowledge that the army would protect them from the perils of the night. Every so often he gazed affectionately at the expensive camera and flash equipment which hung from his neck. It had cost him an awful lot of money. With luck it could earn him a great deal more.
Something moved. He heard it rather than saw it. Way out to his left where the reed-beds began. Perhaps it was a coypu or an otter. Maybe even a seal venturing far inland.
It was cold and he was bored. He thought again of his camera. Magazines paid well for nature pictures. Not as well as the leading dailies would pay for some of the Slime Beast but what was to stop him trying for both.
He rose to his feet, and choosing each step with care in an attempt to avoid noisily slurping in the patches of mud he headed towards the reeds. He could still hear it. 'Somewhere on the banks of the narrow channel it was wallowing in the sticky ooze. It probably was a coypu. He adjusted his flash attachment and entered the tall reeds. It was darker in here. More shadows. Difficult to see clearly. Blast! That was twice he had squelched in a patch of mire. Surely his quarry must be aware of his approach by now.
Silence. Perhaps it had gone, drifted to safety with the currents. He could see moonlight reflecting on water through the edge of this reed jungle. Another couple of yards and he would be in the open. His finger rested on the button of his camera. He would have to be quick.
He stepped into the open, but saw nothing, just moonlight, mud and a slow-moving current. The banks were empty, totally devoid of life. He gazed down at them in disappointment. Suddenly he noticed something. He stooped down for a closer look; footprints. Or was it the impression in the mud of some creature, possibly a coypu, which had hopped from one place to another leaving the indentations of its body to mark its progress. The prints were certainly large enough: a good twelve inches long by five across, yet they resembled claw marks, webbed claws, pointing in the direction from where he had come. A stagnant smell hung in the night air.