Rockferry, Chapter 1

Crickets rustled and chirped in the bushes that lined the Coyne family home’s backyard. The house was dark and empty, and a tranquil stillness hung with the summer’s heat, lingering still deep into the night. Somewhere inside a grandfather clock chimed eleven-thirty. And shortly thereafter a navy-blue sedan rolled quietly up to the garage and clicked off.

Ryan had been sleeping most of the way home from the airport in Liverpool but had woken up in the last quarter of the drive to find the Mersey River docks on his right, and the old rowhouses and spindly naked trees on his left, giving him a sigh of relief. He squished his cheek against the window and craned to see the full moon and Venus rising high above. His father, driving slow and steady, glanced back and smiled. Ryan caught the gesture in his periphery and remembered how his dad had always said: ‘Ever a chance you get to look up and see these wonders of space, do it. It always reminds me to be thankful for life and realise there’s so much more to it than we can even imagine.’

In the rearview mirror he saw his mum, with her strawberry Irish hair, stare distantly on a point. The corners of her eyes were misty and she looked in need of rest. Ryan puckered his lips and craned back at the bright moon, which looked so big and stunning.

I wonder if Nana’s watching me, he thought with a little shrug. It was hard to be sad when he’d only met her a few times. They didn’t often get the chance to visit Belfast, but one never wished to schedule a long-awaited vacation for the tossing of ashes.

The sound of tires rolling slowly into the driveway of their two-storey house was oddly comforting. It was familiar; it meant home at last. An audible sigh escaped from all three of them, each intoned differently. His mom’s with sadness, his dad’s with fatigue, and himself, of course, with relief.

The chirping of the crickets made him smile as he lugged his trunk behind his parents to the door. He struggled to pull its weight but also tried to keep from losing footing while craning his neck again to ogle at the moon for as many seconds as he could.

The house had managed to stay regulated whilst they were gone, and the warm lights were soon all flicked on to welcome them back. ‘Tea, anyone?’ Dad asked.

‘Yes, please,’ both he and his mum replied. She set down her trunk by the base of the stairs and proceeded to unload her purse on a small vanity table in the wooden hallway. As he settled in, he watched her expression and felt her driftwood feeling in his young heart like an echo.

In the flash of a moment, she stood up straight, blinked strongly, and swallowed the bowling ball in her chest. She had felt her son watching her closely.

Ryan had barely hooked his jacket when her sweeping arms wrapped around him and held him tight. He felt safe again. She sank her knees halfway to level her head with his and met him green eye to green eye. ‘I love you, no matter what. To the moon and back.’

‘Love you too,’ he whispered in return.

‘Let’s have tea!’ She led him by the shoulder to their cozy family room, a plush enclosure of dark-toned sofas and armchairs situated around a grand fireplace. Between the open living room and their large kitchen was the glass back door to their chirp-filled backyard. The grandfather clock chimed quarter to midnight.

‘Hot chamomile-mint for all!’ cheered Dad, who swung a tray with a hot kettle and teacups over to the central coffee table like a waiter.

‘Thank you, honey,’ Mum said, giving him a kiss.

Dad joined them and relaxed in his favourite armchair and winked at Ryan over his first sip. ‘Blimey it’s late. Aren’t you glad you’re not in school right now?’

Ryan laughed along and savoured his tea. ‘I’m so looking forward to trigonometry next fall.’

‘Oooh, sarcasm—I like it!’ Mom said. ‘Proud Mum moment.’

Dad swung his head playfully. ‘Oh, lord, Kim, he’s fifteen! I’m just glad he doesn’t use the f-word.’

‘Yet,’ Ryan said.

She gasped comically. ‘Ryan!’

The grandfather clock chimed midnight, and in a tired flurry they unpacked, readied for bed, and turned out all the lights.

Ryan lay awake in bed, unable to define the reason for his restlessness. It wasn’t the tea that woke him up—it should have made him sleepier. But it was as if it was too quiet. There was something missing, something wrong. What was it?

He crept out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs to the living room. A floorboard creaked under his foot. There was a sound. But why was it too quiet, so much so that he could begin to hear the blood rushing in his ears?

Then his attention focused on the back door and realised: the crickets had stopped chirping. He sighed with relief and chided himself for being so anxious. He shook his head and started back for the stairs.

A flick of a large shadow ran across the beams of moonlight which spilled across the room and hallway. He snapped around, frozen. The backyard was empty. Still.

He heard a branch snap.

He ran to the back door and tried to see what was out there. Just as he squinted, a dark cloud passed over the moon and made it too dark. He cursed.

His short, lean body trembling, he lowered his breathing to listen for more sounds. Suddenly, it became very loud, very fast.

Thumps against the house walls. Scrapes like rodent claws on wood but bigger. And for just a moment he wondered: did he just hear a growl?

Eyes wide as saucers, he broke into a run up the stairs and shouted, ‘Mum! Dad! Wake up! There’s something climbing the house!’

They burst from their bedroom with frantic expressions.

‘What is it? What is it?’ Dad demanded.

Mum’s eyes swam with terror. ‘Everyone to the car. Now.’

‘What is it, Kim?’

‘Just do it. Go!’ she pushed Dad forward in the back and ushered Ryan down the stairs. Her descent was faster than he’d ever seen—like the Devil himself was at her heels.

They hurried shoes on their feet and made for the inside garage door. Mum’s hands shook violently as she unlocked it. ‘Go, go, go!’ she whispered.

‘What’s going on, Mum? What’s out there?’

‘Kim, tell me!’ Dad demanded, engaging the ignition.

She refused to answer, only muttering, ‘Come on, come on, come on’ to the garage door as it opened. ‘Drive! Just leave the garage door open, I don’t care—just go!’

Dad screeched out of the neighbourhood and headed down a thoroughfare tracing the docks. He pulled over into a dockside parking lot and set the car to idle in a spot facing the water.

‘Wait, what are you doing? Keep going!’

‘No!’ Dad snapped. ‘Kim—tell me what’s going on. You’re acting like you know and I’m not driving any further until you tell us.’

She turned to Ryan. ‘You trust me, right?’

Afraid to say no, he nodded yes.

She took a deep breath to gather herself, her eyes darting left and right through the windows at the darkness.

‘Peter, you remember how I told you I was in a terrible relationship?’ she asked Dad.

‘Uhhh, yeah…’

‘He’s… beyond dangerous. And I thought I was rid of him.’

‘Honey, I know all this already. He’s a criminal and he’s got connections and just all around a real monster of a guy.’

‘No—he’s a real monster.’

Ryan shuddered, remembering the claw-scraping sounds on the walls. ‘Mum, what is he?’ he squeaked.

‘I’m sorry, baby. I was sure he’d never find us.’

Dad suddenly did a double take out the rear window. ‘Holy shit!’

He tore out of the parking spot with a peal of rubber. A dark figure grimaced right behind them. Ryan gasped. His heartbeat drilled faster than a bird’s wingbeat. ‘Mum, what is that?’

‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Oh my God, no!’

The figure stood still as Dad floored the pedal. It was hard to be sure at such a time of night, but it was taller than any man he’d ever met. It was strong and very muscular. Its skin was greenish-black and shiny, like the wet monitor lizard he’d seen in the riparian section of the zoo.

But this was no lizard-man. There was something crueller than that about the face. It was almost human. It was wrinkled in a permanent scowl of an enraged predator, and white fangs glistened in its grimace. Its fingers were tipped with wickedly long claws which waggled impatiently at its sides.

‘What the devil was that?’ Dad exclaimed. His expression was contorted with terror and fury in a way he’d never seen before.

Three miles down the freeway Dad parked them in the lot of a twenty-four-hour diner and they all caught their breath. After a moment of silence, he looked like himself again and asked very softly: ‘What kind of criminal looks like a demon straight from Hell?’

Mum burst into tears and leaned into his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry! I tried to keep all of this from you, but I was a fool.’

‘What’s done is done,’ Dad said. ‘Just tell us now and we’ll deal with it as a family.’

‘He’s… he’s not from Hell… but he is a demon. And I mean a real demon. A very old, very vicious, very evil being.’

Ryan’s blood ran cold. ‘What does a demon do, Mum?’

‘You don’t want to know. I didn’t even know that’s what he was until it was too late. He looked as human as anyone and was a handsome gentleman.’

‘Oh, well that’s brilliant! So, he’s a shapeshifter too, then?’ Dad said. ‘Bloody hell, I can’t believe this. Can’t even believe we’re even having this conversation. I mean, I can’t unsee what I saw back there, but—you, you put us all in—’ he broke off with a groan. ‘Never mind. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. We’ll have some food and coffee and find a hotel in Liverpool.’

They ate quickly their eggs and bacon and travelled across the bridge to Liverpool where they found an open room near Newsham Park. The streets were quiet and flat and lined with old brick buildings; the residences looked well-kept but the shops were declining. A nice line of greenery divided the traffic by a wide median and gave a sense of mediaeval suburbia despite the size of the city.

Sitting in yesterday’s clothes on the clean hotel beds, the three of them took turns staring at the ceiling, trying to relax while the threat of a monster lay thick in the air. No safe harbour. No assurance they’d wake up from their sleep, if they could manage sleeping at all.