The Darkest Corners Read Online Free PDF Page B

boy,’ he spat; then he stopped talking as the sole of my shoe slammed hard into the centre of his weather-beaten face. He stumbled backwards on to the floor, and then I was past him, through the door behind the pulpit and scrabbling up the rusted ladder.
    I was halfway up before I realised I couldn’t hear Billy screaming, and all the way at the top before I realised I couldn’t hear anything from within the tower at all.
    As soon as I was through the hatch I focused on a spark and moved between worlds. To my relief, Billy was there, almost exactly where I’d left him. He was kneeling down, facing away from me, his hands hanging limply by his sides so his knuckles were almost touching the floor.
    He was half hidden by the shadows, but as I took a step closer I saw the spots of blood on the side of his face. I thought back. He hadn’t been bleeding after Ameena hit him, had he? In all the panic, I couldn’t remember.
    â€˜Are you OK?’ I asked. ‘What happened?’
    Billy didn’t answer. Up close I could see that his whole body was vibrating. His breath was whistling unsteadily in and out, and he gave the occasional soft whimper as I took another creaky step closer.
    â€˜I heard you screaming,’ I said. He flinched, but didn’t turn round. I took another step towards him. ‘What happened? Why were you screaming?’
    Billy’s trembling was becoming more and more violent, as if his body was going deep into shock. He flinched again as I laid my hand on his shoulder.
    â€˜What’s wrong, Billy?’ I asked. ‘What happened? Talk to me.’
    With a sob, he slowly turned his head. I felt my guts twist in horror. I stumbled away from him, swallowing the urge to throw up. His eyes bored into mine, ringed with red and filled with tears.
    I tried to speak, but no words came. Tried to scream, but my throat was closed tight. Instead I raised a shaking hand and pointed. Pointed at his face; at his mouth; at the thick black stitches that threaded through his lips, pulling them tightly together.
    He tried to say something, but the words came out as a jumbled mumble of syllables. His fingers brushed against the stitches, then pulled quickly away. His eyes bulged. His nostrils flared. He let out a high-pitched moan that would have been a scream if he could open his mouth.
    â€˜Wh-who…?’ I began, but a blast of music answered my question before I could even ask it.
    It came from the room below, loud enough to shake the floor beneath us.
    If you go down to the woods today, you’re in for a big surprise…
    â€˜No,’ I whispered. ‘Not him. Not here.’
    If you go down to the woods today, you’d better go in disguise…
    Of all the fiends I’d faced so far, Doc Mortis was up there with the worst of them. He was a sadist, a madman who believed himself to be a surgeon, and who kidnapped innocent people and performed grotesque operations on them. I’d barely escaped his hospital. I thought he was dead. It appeared I was wrong.
    A crash of breaking wood temporarily drowned out the music from below. One of the wooden boards that had been fastened over an opening in the tower wall was smashed in right behind Billy.
    Before he could even turn, a freakishly thin figure reached through the gap. I caught a glimpse of its bald head and its surgical mask. Eyes that were no more than buttons stitched on to skin flashed at me through the gloom, and I recognised one of Doc’s porters.
    A scarred hand caught Billy by the back of his jacket and dragged him towards the hole in the wall.
    Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic …
    â€˜Billy!’ I cried, reaching out a hand. His fingertips touched mine, but then he was gone, dragged out into the chill night air. I ran to the broken wood and looked out. Screechers heaved through the streets, but there was no sign of Billy or the porter anywhere. They couldn’t have