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To the obvious surprise of everyone, Jess’s small frame managed to get loose of Lucas’s restraining grasp and she leapt towards a nearby table snatching at the nearest thing she could find, which turned out to be an empty pint glass.  Harry watched in awe as Jess flung the object in a sweeping arc through the air, pitching it with all the aggression of a baseball player seeking their target.  It hit Kath’s with an almighty thonk!

Immediately, Kath hit the floor, clutching at her face and screaming, not like an injured person but like…

A furious person, Harry thought.

Without delay, Kath rose to her feet, almost like a boxer rising after being knocked down by a fluky sucker punch, ready to start swinging.  She was not happy and her blood-streaked face was a testament to it.  “I’ll kill you!” she vowed.

“Nobody is going to kill anybody!”

Everyone turned to find Steph coming out from behind the bar.  Damien was with her as she confronted them all.  “Now, what the hell is going on?  And why is Kath covered in blood?”

“The little bitch threw a glass at me.  She’s insane.”

Steph turned to Jess with such ferocity that the young girl took a step back.  “Is this true?  Are you causing trouble in my pub?”

Jess nodded and took another step back.

Steph pointed a finger.  “Go look after Peter, now, and if I see you move from there for the rest of the night I’ll throw you out in the snow myself.”

Jess moved so quickly it was almost a sprint.

Steph then turned to Kath.  “There’s a first aid kit in the back, sweetheart, and a little kitchenette with a sink.  Take a candle from the bar and clean yourself up.  Okay?”

Kath still bristled with fury, but her bile-filled hate was beginning to simmer down.  Not completely though.  “That girl should be locked in a padded cell.”

Steph sighed.  “Well, for now we don’t have that luxury, so the best I can do is keep you both separated.  Jess will be staying up here so you should come downstairs with the rest of us.  Now, go get that blood cleaned up before it freezes on your face.”

Kath nodded unhappily and left the room, while Lucas and Nigel went back to their tasks.  Steph and Damien approached Harry.

“What happened?” Steph demanded.

Harry ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t know.  I was trying to get everyone together so I could tell them something and it all kicked off.  Those two really don’t like each other!”

Steph shook her head wearily.  “Tell me about it.  I’d call the police if I could.  There’s no excuse for that kind of violence.”

“It wasn’t just Jess’s fault,” Harry told her.

“I don’t doubt it.  But violence is violence; and on a night like this everyone is tense enough already.”

“Speaking of tension,” said Harry.  “There was something I was trying to tell everyone before it all went haywire.  Come with me.”

Steph nodded and followed; Damien too.

Good, he can back me up.  He already knows about the fire and the crucifixes outside. 

The three of them made it over to the exit door in the rear corridor.  Harry pointed to the glass panel.  “Look through, but try to stay calm.”

“What do you mean?” Steph said.  “You’re worrying me.”

“Just…look, and then we’ll talk.”

Anxiety etched itself across Steph’s face, but she obliged nonetheless, moving up against the door and peering through the glass for several seconds.  “Jesus Christ,” she said finally.

“You see!  You see what I mean?”

Steph turned around to face him.  “Course I do.  The snow out there is getting insane.  We need to wrap up warm or we’re all going to freeze.  I don’t like this at all.”

Harry didn’t understand.  He pushed Steph to one side and peered through the glass himself.  The fire was gone.  In fact it was as though it had never been there.  The snow was deeper than ever and there were no shallow areas where the heat of a flame would have caused it to melt.  Everywhere Harry looked was cold, bleak, empty, and white.

But there was no sign of fire.

“There were flames!”  He shouted it.  “Flames everywhere.”

Steph looked confused and Harry didn’t blame her.

“Tell her, Damien.”

Damien shrugged.  “What you talking about?”

Harry blinked and shook his head in disbelief.  “What am I talking about?  You saw it too!  In fact it was you that showed me!”

Damien shook his head adamantly.  “Think there’s a stripe missing off your Adidas, mate.”

“No,” said Harry, still shaking his head and feeling more and more desperate.  “No, no, no.  You saw the flames too!  Why are you doing this?”

“Sorry dude!  I think you got me confused with someone else good looking.”

Damien walked away, leaving Harry alone with a confused-looking Steph.  He started to wonder if he’d imagined the entire thing.

No way!

“I swear it!” said Harry forcefully.  “Damien’s playing games.”

Out of the blue, Steph hugged Harry and whispered in his ear.  “If you say there was a fire out there then I believe you, okay?  Just don’t get yourself worked up, because I need you tonight.  I would have gone insane if you weren’t here.”

“You really believe me?”

Steph nodded.  “Yes!  Now go make yourself useful.  Old Graham was asking for you, so go see him.  I’ll get all the toilet paper and hand towels.  We’re going to get the fire going in a minute.”

Harry nodded and Steph left him there in the cold corridor, lost in thought about why Damien had not backed him up.  Just when I thought we were finally getting along, he makes me look like a lunatic, right in front of Steph.  Stupid, Harry.  Real stupid!  You should never trust a snake. 

But Damien wasn’t worth the time right now, not when Steph had made it clear she needed Harry’s support.  She was playing nursemaid, host, and authoritarian all at the same time.  It was unfair that she had to put everyone else first when all they did was bicker.  Harry wanted to take some of the strain off her, but for now he was being summoned to attend other business.  Old Graham wanted to speak to him and Harry wasn’t going to keep the old guy waiting.  He owed him too much already.  He started walking, but couldn’t help thinking along the way:  Why did Damien lie?

Before he exited the corridor something caught Harry’s attention.  At the opposite end of the rear corridor was a light; it was coming from the pub’s unused dance floor.

Is somebody in the back room?

Harry stepped forward cautiously.  It was probably just one of the others, looking for something to burn; the light probably coming from their candles.  He couldn’t be sure though.  He needed to check it out.  “Hey, who’s there?”

No reply.  The light seemed to get brighter, pulsing rapidly.

Harry continued down the corridor, creeping anxiously as he awaited a response.  Once he was certain there would be none, he called out again.  “I said who’s there?”

Again there was no response.  Harry was left with the decision whether to go back or not.  Tonight was a night where strange things were happening in abundance; retreat was likely the most sensible option to take, yet for some reason Harry felt compelled to investigate further.  His feet carried him forward.

The pulsing light was blinding now.  Harry had to shield his eyes with a forearm as he took the final few steps towards the backroom.  When he eventually reached the doorway to the dance floor, Harry realised he was hot, sweating.

Inside the cavernous room it felt like a sauna, sticky heat clinging to his skin.  After hours of freezing cold, the aura of warmth was wonderful, but Harry knew it was unnatural as well.  There was no rational explanation for the backroom of an English pub feeling like a Mexican beach resort, especially when it was snowing outside like the end of the world.  Something was wrong.

Rather than run away, Harry stepped onto the stiff wood of the dance floor; it creaked beneath his weight.  From the end of the room the bright orange glow continued pulsing.  It was coming from behind an elevated DJ’s booth built up against the far wall, but as Harry got closer the light began to weaken.  He hurried over to the booth and hoisted himself up the three steps that ran beside it.  The light was still diminishing, fading like a setting sun behind a forest.  Harry had the feeling that if he didn’t get a look at its source immediately, he would miss something important.  He unhooked the latch of the DJ’s chest-level door and pulled it open.