Scaly talons ripped through clothing and flesh simultaneously. Blood spouted. Greenish-grey scales became scarlet in a matter of seconds. Clawfuls of bloody entrails were crammed into cavernous jaws. The dripping slit-like mouth was incapable of taking it all, much of it running down on to the body and splashing in the mud.
The Slime Beast ripped at the original incision, widening the wound and enabling it to search inside for more. Methodical yet ravenous.
At last there was no more offal. Scraping claws yielded only bloody flesh. It grunted with rage. Suddenly it picked up the mangled human remains by the neck and held it up at arm's length. A clenched claw thudded down on to Glover's skull with the force of a steam-driven piston. Bone cracked, then split, and brains oozed out of the splinters.
The monster pulled its victim closer, into a horrific repulsive embrace. A long sliver of yellow tongue darted back and forth glinting in the moonlight, and within seconds there were no brains remaining in the pulped skull.
The corpse was cast aside; forgotten. The Slime Beast turned round and Liz pressed herself even closer to the ground. The thing's hunger was satisfied for the moment—or was it? Was it capable of remembering that it almost had two human beings within its grasp?
Liz vomited again. She hoped it could not hear her. She wondered if it had any powers of scent. Unconsciousness would have been merciful. She would have been unaware whether or not it discovered her. Yet the desire to faint had gone. Revolted as she was by the mutilation she had just witnessed she was thinking clearly, decisively.
Escape was uppermost in her mind. Yet she could not run again. Every muscle in her body refused to respond to the urge to flee. She would be incapable of outrunning the Slime Beast should it find her.
Her only hope lay in the fact that it might not detect her. Perhaps it would go away and then she could make her way back to the blockhouse. She felt no remorse over Mallard Glover's death. He had brought it upon himself. Had he not tried to rape her he would still be alive.
The Slime Beast remained stationary for some minutes, just standing there. Silent. Then it moved. Casually almost. A shuffling gait treading down the bullrushes before it Liz held her breath. It was coming directly towards her! She bit her bottom lip in order to prevent herself from screaming. She could not run. She closed her eyes. At least she would know nothing about it!
She felt the mud squelching over her. Something brushed against her head. That nauseating stench again. Burning into her nostrils and down into her lungs. She held her breath awaiting the crunch of the massive foot which would crush her head into the mud and into oblivion.
It never came. The Slime Beast advanced and passed on not even noticing her half-naked body in the rushes. A massive slimy footprint either side of her head was the only proof that it had passed by her at all. She had missed death by three inches!
A few minutes later she struggled to her feet. Every part of her body was trembling. She must head for the blockhouse, and find Gavin and her uncle. They might be back already. She must get help. Someone who would destroy this loathsome beast, and then she would be back in London.
These thoughts were uppermost in her mind as she set off back across the silvery marshes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
PROFESSOR LOWSON and Gavin Royle halted on the banks of the big creek. It had been their intention to cross it and gain access to the sea-wall a mile or so away, for from there they would have an elevated view of the saltings. Also there was the chance that if the Slime Beast did decide to visit Sutton village again it would have to pass this way.
Now their plans were thwarted. The tide had come in much quicker than they had expected probably because of the full moon. Eight feet of water swirled before them and it was rising every second.
Professor Lowson turned to his companion. 'We'll have to try that rickety old footbridge further up. I had a look at it yesterday. It should bear our weight all right provided we don't both cross together.'
The bridge had been constructed by fenmen before the war and now age was beginning to eat into its structure.
'I'll cross first' said the Professor, testing the rotting beams with his foot. They creaked ominously. He took another step. Two.
'Seems all right,' he commented, 'I'll.. .'
Had Gavin been much shorter he would never have managed to reach Lowson in time. The main supporting beam parted from the planks above with a pistol-like crack. The bridge swayed, vibrated and then collapsed.
Gavin's strong fingers caught the Professor's outstretched arm and pulled, allowing his own body to fall backwards at the same time. Together they sprawled in the mud, Gavin supporting the other with one hand while grabbing at a tussock of grass with the other. The steep bank was slippery, yet somehow he managed to hold on.
Together they watched the debris being swirled round the bend out of sight
'That was close,' Lowson breathed, 'too close. Thanks!'
'We shan't make the sea-wall tonight,' Gavin panted as he edged them both back up on to the safety of the comparatively firm spartina grass. "Guess we'd best keep walking.'
It was then that they heard the scream. Just once. Then complete silence.
'It-came from over that way,' the Professor snapped. "Somewhere by the bend in the creek, about five hundred yards away. Come on!'
Take it steady,' Gavin restrained him. 'We don't want to run headlong into trouble. Let's follow this path quietly through these rushes, and keep your eyes peeled.'
The path was soft and marshy and they were forced to move slowly. Every so often they paused to listen. Everywhere was still and eerie, the moonlight casting weird shadows.
'What's that?' Gavin pulled up abruptly and the Professor cannoned into him. They listened.
A slurping sound came from not very far away, then silence again. Something cracked and crunched like pieces of thin wood being snapped. A movement. They heard heavy determined footsteps, slow and measured.
'Get down quick!' Gavin snapped. 'It's coming this way!'
They dived back into the reeds, just in time. Seconds later they saw the Slime Beast as it crossed the narrow marsh path less than ten yards away from them.
'Christ Almighty!' Gavin breathed. 'Just look at that! You can smell it too. And those scales—they're dripping with something else as well as slime: blood!'
'Follow it!' Lowson snapped. 'Don't let it get out of our sight!'
That scream...'
'Whoever it was they're beyond help now. We mustn't lose it. Get going man!'
The Slime Beast's progress was not difficult to follow. The flattened rushes made the going much easier for them and the wind was blowing in from the sea. They retched as the beast's odour was carried back to them.
Once clear of the large reed-bed they had to hang back for they would be seen too easily on the flat marsh. However the Slime Beast forged steadily ahead never once looking back.
They followed it, keeping a distance of five hundred yards or so behind. In the moonlight they caught a glimpse of something which shimmered in the distance.
'The mud-flats!' Lowson hissed. 'Or rather, the sea. The tide's in. That's where the Slime Beast's heading.'
It was true. The Slime Beast was making directly for the mud-flats. It was taking a definite course out towards the tide-line.
'You're right!' Gavin snapped. 'Just look at that. It's walking straight into the sea. That's where its lair is: on the sea-bed!'